#but the lack of action as a whole is like. ok so you WERE all talk abt those rights huh. damn. ok. what the fuck lol

[slaaverin]

First, thank you for this in-depth reading and your bravery for making it.

I took a few notes which I'm gonna lay out and comment on.

It's crazy how accurate the cards are.

First about the family aspect of tkkers and them being represented by monkeys is so funny to me because what they do is so absurd that they became "circus monkeys" for jikookers, people who perform, are loud, silly and overall amusing to watch. Ouch xD

What I found interesting with the communication card in the jikooker side is that it aligned perfectly with my own observations. The bond that unifies jikookers seems to go beyond the physical sometimes. I've seen many jikookers having similar dreams and it's like we are so in tune (even if there are some differences) that we are in telepathy and overall - with our connexion to unconditional love - it's like we share one heart even. All of our hearts are connected with love and we celebrate it whether within the community but also with Jimin & Jungkook. This is really heartwarming and beautiful.

About truth and the way it can either destroy tkkers or their own truth can destroy something it's very much what I have been saying for a while. What they do with their truth in action can very much stay online but in a cult as you said it takes only a few individuals that would be willing to go to extremes and this whole mess could turn in a VERY DANGEROUS situation for Jimin & Jungkook in real life. I pray and hope that this never happens and that this truth will destroy them instead but this is a real possibility and everyone needs to look out for all of that. The company especially when it comes down to security of the artists (but they have no qualms feeding tkkers sometimes apparently which to me is playing with fucking fire but it's a topic for another day)

About the wheel of fortune and jikookers expanding and things unfolding in a new way I think that is the vibe - even if we weren't sure we were right - that all the jikookers are getting. End of military means new chapter, more freedom. And Jimin's letter also is hinting at this in a heavy way so I'm like ok wait&see but this inkling in our intuition is hard to ignore tbh. I have absolutely no idea what will happen or even if something big will be happening but we can all feel change and expansion coming.

And finally your view on the 3 of swords in very interesting if we talk about reinforcement. Because jikookers have always had this healthy level of skepticism and level-headedness and every time we try to be "reasonable" jikook come in and just smash it and they REINFORCE what we've been feeling intuitively. Which leaves us with the cup (the award) lol so the fact that's a future potential doesn't suprise me at all because that's basically what they've been doing all along.

Now if it's about something "bigger" that could potentially come it remains to be seen.

Your analogy about the car is interesting because it made me think about some jikooker's belief that something very big will be coming right after military but this idea of delay and still going on the journey I guess makes sense if their belief is not fulfilled at this particular time. It would be a setback, a delay in the journey but ultimately we'll still continue on the road and wait for Jimin & Jungkook to have the right conditions to move how they wanna move. And we'll follow along lol

I've been saying on my blog that the main problem of tkkers is lack of awareness and I think everything else stems out from this.

Overall their situation is sad and concerning and I hope someday they'll be able to leave all of this behind.

Your comment about jikooker's support is very important at this time and I totally agree. When they come out of ms, however they present themselves to us we need to support the hell out of them and leave a ton of positive messages and encouragements. I think they will need it more than ever.

Thank you so much it's very informative to break it all down like this 💜

TaeKookers VS JiKookers: Thoughts, Analysis, and Vibes - Tarot & Oracle Readings for The Communities

Catch the vibe, it's an interesting one regardless, I swear!

The manipulation chart and images are below the cut for reference. When I get the website back up, I'll include the notes and everything as well in a full post with the video.

[dkettchen]

trying to figure out how to draw these fucks

[yukimiyum]

the empty threats from liberals in this post-election social media hellscape is gonna drive me absolutely insane actually

[oatmealwrites]

A Night To...Forget? Ch.6

Aizawa x Eidetic memory! Law student! F Reader

Part 5 | Part 7 -> coming soon!

[a night to forget masterlist here]

Synopsis: You take up Shōta’s offer on crashing at his place as you wait for either Kiego or maintenance to be available in the morning to let you back into your apartment. Though the extremely clean state of Shōta’s flat is enough to make you raise an eyebrow. Ok, maybe he didn't plan on having you locked out, but it certainly seems he was well prepared just in case any company happened to come over. ;)

Tags: reader is a little tipsy but not too bad, insecure shota, jealous shota, french kissing, hickies, students being a cockblock, use of quirks, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, slight cum eating, titty sucking, protected! sex, p in v, multiple rounds, missionary, doggy, mating press, shower sex, cockdrunk, pussy drunk, horny & kinky ass shota, fluff ending, still a situationship, kayama being sneaky hehe, 18+, MDNI

word count: 11.7k [im so sorry] also not entirely proofread so im sorry if the grammar/spelling is off a bit

a/n at the end: enjoy~

~~~~~~~

“You can stay with me tonight, if you want.” 

You look up from your phone the moment the words leave his lips and raise your eyebrows in shock. Shōta’s face flushes slightly and he searches your face for a few moments before sitting back in the driver’s seat and running an embarrassed hand along the back of his neck.

“N-Not like that– I didn’t take you out to dinner just to…” His voice drops a bit and he coughs slightly before speaking again with more confidence. “I don’t want you to think I’m simply offering because I want to have sex with you, y/n. I want to make sure you're safe, and not sitting on the floor of your apartment lobby all night.”

Blinking a few times, the phone screen goes dim from your lack of interaction and you gently gulp the surprise that lingers in your throat. It did sound better than waiting for Keigo or maintenance to let you inside… Though this was probably Keigo’s stupid plan all along. 

Maybe it’s the alcohol or simply just the amazing date this man has already taken you on, but you tilt your head and smile gently. “I understand… if it’s ok with you, then yes. Yes, I’d like to stay over.”

Shōta’s expression softens and he bites the inside of his cheek to avoid the cheeky smirk that wants to splay across his lips; it’s also to reign himself in when his cock twitches slightly in his trousers. He grips the steering wheel and takes a  deep breath, “Alright… then let’s head back to my place.”

The car slowly leaves the parking lot and drifts back to a main road with light evening traffic making the journey just a little longer. Within your spot at the passenger seat, the atmosphere of the car is a bit heavier than before as the radio idly plays in the background. Shōta keeps his eyes painfully respectful at the road ahead, not bothering to tear his gaze away; a complete 180 from the way he drove you to the restaurant with his focus barely on driving the vehicle. 

Sure, it’s a big step– you two haven’t even completed one date yet and now you’re spending the night at his apartment. You reign yourself in slightly and watch the whir of streetlights that pass by outside the window, it’s not like you two were inherently going to be doing anything explicitl anyways. The whole point of staying over was a pity invitation to make up for your lack of house keys and idiotic best friend who ensured you would be locked out. 

Rationally speaking, you should be feeling awkward. A work colleague who you’ve kissed a few times and took you to dinner is now letting you crash on his couch– it’s the perfect situation for you to never show your face around him again from the mortification. But you’re not. Maybe it’s the alcohol, months of not getting any action, or just the dashing man driving you, but you’re relaxing into this situation a lot easier than you expect. 

“Shōta.” You call out, positioning yourself to face him.

He blinks and deftly turns the car down another road. “Hm?”

“Why are you so nervous?”

Shōta pauses and holds the air in his lungs an extra moment before finally turning his attention to you. He glances down at you beside him before peeling his eyes away as soon as his gaze had reached the section of your dress neckline that was dipped just a bit too low. 

“I’m not… I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”

You hum and tap a nail against the car console and shrug before smiling and leaning over to his side a bit more. “I’m not. In all honesty, I've had a really great evening so far; you’ve been a total gentleman.”

A buzz rushes through your skin and you can feel the heat of your cheeks flushing from the heightened blood alcohol content coursing through your veins. The man at the wheel looks back down at you before scrunching his brows with a conflict expression and looking back at the wheel.

When he doesn’t respond, you lift yourself upright and place a hand on his bicep. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Shōta sighs slightly and gently begins breaking for the line of cars stopped ahead. “I shouldn’t have let you drink so much…especially in this situation.”

You blink and take your hand from his arm. Had you not already said you were ‘ok’ with his invitation? Shōta continues to be at war with himself inside his mind, as if he was doomed regardless of what he did. There was no way he would just leave you without keys at your apartment, but you were also drunk, and taking you to his place seemed as if he was trying to take advantage of the situation. 

“You’re over thinking.”

Shōta pauses but keeps his head forward, his eyes not leaving the red glow of the taillights from the car stopped ahead. “What do you–”

“–I would’ve just had you taken me home if I didn’t trust you. Give yourself more credit, please.”

“But you can’t properly assess this situation given your state… and I hmpfh—”

You tug his chin to face you and connect your lips to his; it’s not messy and hot like the ones you’ve shared in these seats, instead it’s slow and gentle. Despite his recent shave, a few stray stubbles of hair tickle the flesh of skin on your cheek and you pull back with as much delicacy as you had initiated it with.

Shōta’s face remains hovering by your own as soft exhales leave his lips as dark eyes trace every detail of your expression. He’s silent when he removes his hands from the wheel and snakes one to cup your cheek and the other to rest at the space where your ribs meet your waist; immediately he leans to meet your lips again. 

The moment is dissolved of awkward tension as he pecks your lips over and over again as if he were scared that too much pressure would break you like porcelain. You bring a hand to rest flat against his chest above his heart and meet every rhythmic wave of his lips, eager to taste the lingering bitterness of wine on his mouth. 

After a few more gentle pecks he peels back to scan your eyes again, his own pupils blown wide, before leaning down to kiss you with more force and longing. Shōta’s hands remain in their position, but his tongue runs a testing swipe across your lips before slithering into your mouth and groaning from the mixture of wine, breath mints, and honey lip gloss that he tastes. 

God, it’s so hot. You grip the fabric of his jacket and button up with fervor and arch slightly as arousal tingles down your spine and pools in your core. The panties under your dress have been soaked ever since you first stepped in the car hours ago, and now they’re fully saturated and leave a slick between the plush cushion of your thighs. 

This kiss, his tongue suffocating you of all air while you rock and sway for more, more, more is one you’ve had before– but this setting changes the intensity. Shōta’s hand slips down to the inward curve of your waist before dropping down even further to play with the bottom hemline of your dress. 

It would be so easy to lift it up even 2 more inches and get full access to the flimsy fabric of panties covering your dripping cunt. And with a gentle graze, he pinches the fabric of the hem between his thumb and index finger before a ‘BEEEEEEP’ rings out from behind you both.

Peeling backwards, Shōta peers into the rearview mirror momentarily before realizing the traffic has begun to move ahead of him. With a sheepish cough, he moves his foot from the brake to accelerator and continues the drive while you pant slightly and scowl at the cockblock car behind you through the back window. 

Shōta laughs slightly and nudges you to spin back around and face forward again; you hesitantly move back into your original position and note the lighter atmosphere of the car. Admiring the man for a few extra moments, you reach over to grab one hand from the wheel and intertwine it with your own, taking note of every callous, bump, and freckle that adorns the skin. As well as the extremely large size of it. 

Shōta doesn’t say anything, but watches you play with his fingers and knuckles through the corner of his eye with an amused smile. The crease of his life line is long, his ring finger is slightly bent– maybe from previously breaking it, and his middle finger is the longest. Dirty thoughts come and go as you examine it for a few more moments before setting it on your upper thigh and placing your own hand over it to ensure he won’t move it away. 

He doesn’t. The soft and plush flesh of your thigh is pinched a few times as he runs his fingertips over the skin to accommodate himself with the sensation; he toys with your hemline and thigh in the same playful and gentle manner you had just done to his hand. 

“Mmm, do you have a TV? We can start that reality show I was talking about at dinner.” You suggest while tapping on his knuckles and becoming quickly addicted to the sensation of his skin against yours. 

Shōta chuckles and turns down another road; the city lights slowly thinning out as you get closer to his apartment. “Oh, yea? You want to watch it that bad?”

You suck in your bottom lip and flush a bit before turning your attention back to the hand on your thigh. The length from the base of the palm to the tip of the middle finger can nearly envelop the entire top of your leg from the sheer size; it leaves you wondering how it would feel inside you– how something else might feel. 

Nipples hard through your dress, your cunt gushes again in a desperate desire that leaves you wondering if you’ve ever been more horny in your life. You need this man. You need this man badly.

“Yea… I think it would be cute to start a show together. Besides, I’m locked out till morning anyways.” You tilt your head back up and blink a few times, putting to use any of the flirting skills you’ve managed to acquire in your life. 

“Starting a series together sounds like quite a commitment. You sure that’s something you want?” He hums before turning back to the road.

Ah, right. That was the other goal you have for the evening– to get some sort of definition of what this currently was. The alcohol makes you complacent for anything if it means you would get him in bed, though your heart tugs that while for tonight, sex would be satisfactory, there’s more than his warmth in the sheets that you want. 

“It is.” You confess, the underlying implication that this wasn’t an evening you only wanted to concur once.

Shōta peers down at you and hums with a smile. “Me too.” His hand closes to squeeze the flesh of your thigh under his fingertips and you have to use every ounce of resolve to avoid tugging the man into the backseat and crashing the car.

The ride continues with light banter and flirty remarks, his hand never leaving your leg, before you roll through parking security and drift into a parking spot marked for staff. Ah, right, his place. Aka, the student dorms filled with rowdy high schoolers; somehow in the heat of his invitation and your acceptance that little fact had slipped your minds. 

The familiar tower of the dorm glows a bit down the walking path from the parking lot to the dormitories and stepping out of the car, you shiver slightly. Shōta shuts his own car door and uses the headlights as enough illumination to walk around the hood and shimmy off his blazer and swing it around your shoulders. 

Cologne fills your sense of smell and you tuck into the jacket a bit more from the intimacy of the act; everything he does seemingly makes you fall harder for him… in addition to raising your desire to him as soon as possible. Tugging the bagginess of the large fabric around your frame and offering a ‘thank you’, Shōta clenches his jaw and promptly spin around; a brief glimpse of the erection in his slacks now within view. 

The dark interior of the car shielded you from seeing much, but with the LED headlights of the vehicle shining on him before the timer flicks them off, you can see this man is just as pent up as you. Cock hard in his slacks, chest puffing with increased heart rate, and flush to his face not from alcohol, Shōta is faring just as poorly as you are given the tension. 

Taking a few steps forward, you sling your arm around the bend of his elbow and lean into his torso as you walk the stone path the dormitory ahead. Shōta knows this is probably the least romantic place to bring someone back to of all time. It’s filled with over energetic teenagers who scream and run wild and also his workplace by technicality. 

Shōta’s dreamed about this moment more times than he can count, but he’s never solidified the plan if he actually got to spend an evening with you. In the back of his mind, he always figured he would take you home, you would offer him a ‘coffee’, and then he’d take you as many times as you’d let him. Maybe the couch, then living room floor, eventually the bedroom, and maybe the shower? Running on little sleep has left him with a stamina only useful on the bathfield and the bedroom. 

“This is a nice walk.” You interject, looking at the surrounding greenery that bordered the simple pathway.

“Oh, yea… it’s not bad.”

You chuckle at his sheepish behavior and lean your head against his shoulder and sigh in contentment; Keigo is going to freak out when he hears about this– after you kill him for locking yout first.

You pause slightly, and look up at Shōta who holds your gaze with a comfortable smile on his lips, looking absolutely beautiful. You’ve always known that, but the way the moon lights up his raven black hair with a silver glow leaves you breathless as he raises an eyebrow and leans down to peck the top of your forehead.

Tugging his bicep to your chest, you lean further into him and smile, “You know.. You really are–”

“–Two more laps, Midoriya!”

Immediately you both pause and Shōta’s expression drops to one of deadly frustration. Releasing your grasp on the man’s arm, you peer around the open courtyard and spot a familiar head of green hair panting heavily while turning the corner to the same energetic young man with glasses you saw last time. 

You drop your hold on Shōta’s arm as he furrows his brows in annoyance and pivots to examine the small group of 5 students that stand outside. “Tch, I told Yamada the curfew was 10pm, so what are these idiots doing?”

Pivoting slightly to peer beside him, you watch the young man with glasses give Midoriya a hard slap on the back for completing some sort of training regime; Todoroki stands beside two girls, one with short brown hair and another with long black. 

“Seems like they’re eager to be heroes.”

Shōta scoffs. “More like eager to be in trouble.”

Teacher-mode switches on as the man steps away from you and begins to walk over to the group before faltering to an awkward stop. Right, he had you with him… late at night… and you’re both heading to his apartment. 

Dragging a hand down his face and tugging his under eyelids down from the force, Shōta exhales with frustration before turning to you. “Um, I can go deal with them but…” He works the words out in his mind, trying to find the best way to word his request. “Can you wait a few minutes and then go through the…back entrance? I can meet you at the stairwell.”

“Like some sort of sneaky fling?”

Shōta sputters and raises his hands but you laugh and nudge his shoulder. “I’m kidding. I’ll give you 5 and meet you at the stairs.”

He sighs in relief and returns your nudge, half-grateful for you not being mad at him for hiding you from a group of nosey teenagers, and half-exhausted from the emotional duress he was already under.  

“Thanks,” he leans down to peck your lips and gently give your shoulders a squeeze before turning to speed walk towards his students.

Pivoting to stand beside a tree and obstruct their view if the students happened to look over, you watch the way Shōta yells over at them from across the courtyard. Giggles escape your lips as you watch the way they scurry together in apology and frantically explain themselves; you can’t hear the conversation, but you can just barely make out their sheepish facial expressions. 

After a few moments, the group lines up and walks around the building towards the front door with Shōta in the rear as he continues talking about some sort of disciplinary warning for breaking curfew. Pausing an extra moment, you push off the tree and tip toe towards the back door as quietly and quickly as you possibly can with a bottle of wine in your system and heeled boots on your feet. 

It feels like how you imagine field work for heroes must be, and for a brief moment you regret taking up a career in an office building rather than patrolling the streets with your best friend. Padding across the lawn and making your way to the concrete back porch steps, you scurry up the final stairs and gently push on the unlocked door. 

Poking your head through a crack, you survey what looks like a laundry room to your left and communal showers to the right. There’s a hum of a washing machine in use and a gentle patter of a shower head, but there’s not a soul insight; you slip through the door the rest of the way and scurry down the hallway towards the first stairwell door you see. 

By the time you gently click the door shut, a pair of steps coming down the stairs towards you, leaves you rushing to find something to hide behind; crouching behind a large rolling laundry bin is your only option. 

Knees aching from the cold hard flooring, you cover your mouth to avoid the labored breathing before the cart is slowly wheeled to the side.

“You know, most people would’ve just left the stairwell rather than hide in plain sight.”

You raise to your feet as Shōta extends a hand and pulls you up, a coy smirk on his lips as you shove his shoulder back; he doesn’t move from his position next to you. 

“You could’ve announced that it was you coming down.” you mumble while ascending the stairwell with him at your side.

“Mmm, but if it wasn’t you hiding behind the laundry bin, it would’ve been strange.”

You grumble to yourself in defeat and continue walking up each flight with a slight burn in your thighs from the workout and an ache in your feet from the lack of proper footwear. Reaching the 4th floor, Shōta pivots to kneel slightly in front of you, “Get on. It’s obvious you’re struggling.”

Sputtering slightly with a bruised ego, you cross your arms and push past him to continue up another ungodly amount of stairs before an arm pulls your knees out from underneath. 

“Woa– hey!”

Strong forearms are cradled underneath your ribs and knees as Shōta ascends the next set of steps with you tucked in his arms. A grin on his lip as you nudge him with fake annoyance and wrap an arm around his neck to better steady yourself. 

“Mmm, my hero! Saving me from this villainous set of stairs, how can I ever repay the favor?” You joke with sarcasm as he tosses your body up slightly in his arms to reposition the angle at which you lean against him.

“Just doing my job. No need to thank me.” He responds with equal sarcasm as he quickly moves up another floor as if the weight in his arms wasn’t there. 

You throw your head back and tug his jacket on your shoulders a bit tighter before leaning down to his neck and planting a small kiss to his jaw line. Shōta shivers at the sensation and exhales through his nose before peering down at you with an eyebrow raised. “You always give heroes a kiss like that?”

“No~, just the ones I’m especially grateful for.”

Shōta chuckles and doesn’t release his grasp on you when he finally reaches the correct floor; he pivots to open the door with the hand tucked under your knees and kicks it open wider so you both can slip out and into the hallway. Long strides to his apartment door, Shōta gently places you on your feet before feeling up and down his pockets with a frantic expression.

Gasping slightly, “Wait, don’t tell me you forget–”

“–my keys?” he finishes the question before tugging out a keyring from his back pocket with a smug expression. “Nah, I wouldn’t forget that.”

Sputtering slightly and furrowing your brows, you follow him inside and wait for the door to click shut before pushing him with annoyance. “Geez, you’re such an ass.”

Shōta smiles coyly at you and removes his shoes before offering you a balanced arm of support while you kick off your heeled boots. When you’re back steady on your aching feet, he steps ahead towards his kitchen while you take in the layout of his apartment. 

“I’ll grab you some water.”

You hum and watch him click on a tall standing floor lamp in the living room before heading for the faucet. Immediately to the right of the front door is a small sofa with a coffee table and TV to make up the living room; on the left was a coat closet and small table for keys and miscellaneous items. The hallway continued straight into an open kitchen with a wooden table in the center and a set of glass patio doors to a small balcony. 

Padding further into the apartment, the hallway splits to another walkway on the left with two short steps up into another hallway; this one leading towards a bedroom and ensuite bathroom. The whole scene is small, neat, and comfortable and the air smells like a mix of fresh laundry and musky cologne. 

Pivoting back towards the sofa, you shimmy off his jacket and place it gently on the back of the cushion before admiring the nice warm glow of the floor lamp. The whole place is clean…too clean.

Every throw pillow is placed in a perfect position, every shoe by the door [except your boots] are neatly organized, and even the paper towel roll has been recently replaced. Humming to yourself and dragging a hand across the underside of the TV, you raise an eyebrow at the lack of dusting residing on your finger tips. 

“Here’s some water, it’s best to drink if you want to avoid a headache tomorrow.” Shōta offers a glass while returning from the kitchen and ushering you to sit on the sofa. 

Taking the spot beside you, he relaxes back into the cushions and rubs the back of his neck, “And sorry about my students, they can be a handful most of the time.”

The water is refreshing against your throat, and you take a moment to finish nearly half the glass before placing it on the coffee table. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just thankful you’re letting me stay here.”

“Of course.” Shōta replies, as if it was the easiest decision of his life and as if he wasn’t having an internal crisis about it in the car earlier.

Now that you’re both in his apartment, there’s another wave of awkward tension between you both as neither one makes a move to discuss what exactly was the plan next. Do you say goodnight and just lay on the couch? Or will he offer you the bed? Would he offer you a set of pajamas, or just leave you in your dress?

Sucking the flesh of your check between your molars, you reach forward to his TV remote and turn to him. “Well, would you want to actually start that show?” 

Shōta swallows and blinks a few times before nodding. “Sure, I’d be happy to see what seems to be so interesting about this ‘real housewives’ you’ve talked so much about.”

Chuckling slightly, you lean back into the cushions to pull up a streaming service and load the first episode of the most recent season; Shōta watches with a suspicious expression as the opening credits begin to roll. 

“Ah, I might have a few spare blankets– let me get them.” He rises to his feet and shuffles to his bedroom leaving you alone in the living room.

‘Might’

The word leaves a weird feeling in your mouth that isn’t just the overpriced red wine still on your tongue. Looking around the apartment you’re met with the same strange feeling as the word; something is off, but you can’t seem to place exactly what. 

Peering over the back of the couch and confirming he’s still preoccupied with ‘searching’ for a blanket, you stand up and pad into the kitchen and look around the counter top. Coffee beans are normal, a fresh paper towel roll is convenient, but a bottle of wine on the very end catches your attention– especially the two wine glasses placed beside it.

Taking the bottle in your hands, you spin the label around and blink a few times to clearly read the description in the dim lighting; you don’t even notice the set of returning footsteps as Shōta approaches from his bedroom.

“I was able to find one– are you looking for something?”

You pause slightly, but keep your back to him as you run a thumb across the label, “You bought wine?”

Shōta tosses the blanket over the back of the couch and looks at the women on the TV arguing and shrugs slightly, “Yea…? I got some last time I went to the store…”

“No, but you bought this wine.” You lift the bottle over your shoulder before bringing it back in front of you. “It’s the same kind, the same exact brand, and the one I ordered the first time I met you… the first time I met all of the UA staff.”

Shōta’s silent behind you for a moment as the argument of two women on the screen are the only thing filling the air as you idly recall the moments of this bottle.

“What–” he begins.

“–It was for dinner!” you repeat, seeing the memory clear as day in your mind. “You sat on my left at the table…. It was 7pm, on a Thursday, at the French restaurant across town…but I didn’t want a whole bottle and offered to split it with yo– ah!”

A cold shiver runs down your spine as the memory is torn from your mind and you’re left idly blinking and grasping at the rest of it. Placing the bottle on the counter, you furrow your brows and try your hardest to remember the rest of that evening before you spin around with an awkward tingle in your nerves; a pair of glowing red irises pulls your attention to the man.

“I can’t– Shōta!” You gasp while trudging towards him. “Turn my quirk back on, now.”

He avoids your attempts at pawing his eyes to cover his vision and tugs your hands together within one of his own. “No…” he grumbles.

Ah, so this is what was off. 

Memory or not, you look up at him with a cheeky grin, ignoring the reality show playing idly in the background. “Shōta…” you begin, “Did you plan on having me come back home with you?”

He pauses slightly and the pressure holding your hands together lessens by a fraction before his eyes flicker back to their usual dark color and awkwardly stare at a corner of the room. “No…”

“Really?” You tilt your head closer to him and survey the room, the tipsiness of your state creating a wave of confidence despite the submissive position you're physically in given the mass of a man in front of you. “Then you always keep your living room this clean?”

Shōta shrugs and peels his eyes back to you, unwilling to be called on his bluff. “I’m a clean man.”

“Right, and you always ensure to dust and stock up on essentials?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“I sneeze when debris builds up.”

Pushing even more, you tilt your head to his. “Ok, and you always buy the wine I drink, with two glasses out? Tell me, are you sure you didn’t plan to have me over, or is there a form of company besides me that you bring back here?”

Ah, you got him. You haven’t even seen the rest of the apartment and you caught on already. 

Shōta’s jaw tightens, but the pressure on your wrists is released as he brings his hands to his sides; dark eyes glance between your own. “Just you.” He quickly breathes out. “It’s always been just you.”

The admission makes your coy act falter, and the way he concedes that you are the only person he would plan this for makes your heart beat even faster. Shōta stands hovering over you, and for the first time since you’ve stepped inside, you’re reminded just how much bigger he is than you. 

Yes, you can act coy and tease that maybe he had cleaned his apartment in hopes of getting lucky, but now that you’ve played your hand, you realize you’re out of moves. Shōta breathes unsteadily a few times and doesn’t release his stare, “I mean what I said earlier— I didn’t plan to get you drinking and take you back here…”

He takes a few more deep breaths before stepping back and coming fully clean, “I just… you know– wanted to be prepared just in case something did happen. Not that I was expecting it.”

Maybe it’s a moment of clarity from your previously tipsy haze, but the implication of everything is crashing down on you, hard and fast. Here Shōta was, admitting to cleaning his apartment, buying wine, and most likely preparing himself for if you were to come back to his place. The meaning of ‘come back to his place’ doesn’t rely on the factor that you would forget your keys, it would be under the pretense that you were coming back to his apartment for more. 

A tingle rushes down your spine and you find yourself turning your attention to the TV screen in an awkward attempt to fully acknowledge what was going on. An awkward cough escaping your lips, you pivot to move back towards the sofa and pat the spot next to you as casually as you can. “Right, well… that’s uh fine.”

Shōta doesn’t move for a moment, unsure exactly how to take your usage of the word ‘fine’ before slowly moving to sit beside you and pretending  to care about what was happening on the screen. He sits stiffly against the cushions and opens his mouth a few times before pivoting to face you. “I just… didn’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

You turn your head to peer at him. “I get it…”

He raises his hands to attempt at wording it out. “Ok… that’s good. It’s not in my plans to have sex with you.”

“What…” you sit upright and a blush rushes across your face as Shōta peels back in frustration at himself.

“Not like that! I mean I would love to have sex with you–”

“Huh?”

“I just–” he runs a hand on his face and takes a moment to calculate if jumping off the balcony would be a fall high enough to end his misery. “You’ve been drinking, and you’re only here because you’re locked out, and my students are downstairs, and–”

“–Shōta.”

You take his hand from his face and chuckle at the embarrassed twinge of pink on his cheeks despite the stubborn expression on his face. Yes, you might’ve played your cards a bit earlier at calling out his preparation, but there’s one more thing– a phrase by Keigo of all people comes to mind.

‘He’s still a guy.’

Yes, because at the end of the day Shōta is just a man– not just a hero and school teacher– and you are the woman he’s been dreaming about sitting dolled up all pretty on his couch. 

The man in front of you sighs and turns his attention to the TV screen with a hardened look on his face. “I’ve fucked this whole thing up, haven’t I?”

You tug his hand to rest your thigh once again and tilt his chin to face you. “You know… you never asked what I wanted.”

Shōta swallows and relaxes into your touch, sliding back into the cushions and looking down at you with interest. Running a hand along his knuckles, you look up and continue. “You’ve gone this whole evening at war with yourself worried that you were forcing something onto me, without ever asking what I even wanted in the first place. You keep backpedaling and worrying that you’ve coerced me here against my will, despite the fact that I gratefully accepted your invitation for helping me out.”

Shōta runs a tongue along his lips and hangs onto every word you say. He was a gentleman all dinner, asking you questions and learning more about your interests, but as soon as his own insecurities bubble up, he can’t seem to find the rationality to simply ask you openly what you wanted. 

Eyes never leaving your own, Shōta tilts his towering frame down slightly. “Ok. So what do you want?”

A smile on your lips, you drag your gaze over the frame of the large man beside you– his physical statue engulfing you despite the fact he was wrapped snugly against your pretty little finger. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Your gaze dips down to linger on his lips before he races forward to meet your mouth with his own; a force of desperation you’ve never felt from him. Your hands reach to tangle in his hair and gently tug out the half bun while one of his hands holds your face to angle your lips against his while the other is squeezing the flesh of your thigh. 

There’s no timid gentle pecks between each kiss, instead Shōta forces his tongue into your mouth to run his taste buds along your own to drink in the flavor of your mouth over and over again. It’s messy beyond belief as saliva drips from the corners of your mouth and his teeth clink against yours once or twice from the sheer force of the rocks of his head. 

Biting his bottom lip and tugging slightly on it, Shōta shakily exhales through his nose before tugging his lip from the pinch of your teeth and running his mouth along the side of your neck. The sensation of his nose tickling the flesh under your ear as he sucks and bites on the pulse point of your throat mirrors the same feelings as when he would do this in his car.

But you’re not in his car anymore, you’re in his apartment. 

Sighing at the gentle nibble of his teeth along your neck before his lips find another spot to suck and mark, you tug on his hair playfully. “Hmmm, isn’t this where you stop? Just like in your car…”

Shōta doesn’t fall for a shallow tease and instead removes the hand that was cradling your jaw to entangle in your hair and tug it roughly to angle your head back; the increased exposure of flesh leaves him rushing forward to mark a new, untainted area.

The sting of your hair follicles while his tongue runs across a new hickey before his lips suction onto another spot leaves your cunt once again gushing and clenching pathetically around nothing. Slick accumulating between your thighs has your hips twitching in a plea for the hand on your thigh to do something.

“S-Stop moving..” he pushes pressure on your leg and leans down more over you to continue sucking the other side of your neck. “Couldn’t….” he pops his lips from your throat and moves to another spot. “Couldn't do this in my car…”

You wither in his grasp from the sensation and groan at the arousal building inside you for uptenth time this evening, “huh…nghh ‘this’”?

His lips trail down to your collarbone and Shōta’s kisses get softer until his mouth is hovering right about the low neckline of your dress; a flimsy piece of fabric between his face and your breasts. Peeling back slightly, he leans into your neck and inhales the scent of your perfume deeply before running a few apologetic kisses along the fresh bruises now painting your neck. 

“Tell me to stop, please…” a few more chaste kisses litter under your ear where your flesh and hairline meet. “Please, you have to tell me no…”

Running a hand to now tug on his scalp, Shōta doesn’t move from his position nuzzled into your neck despite the force tugging his follicles; he’d sooner go bald than move away from you. Sighing airly, you release your pull and instead place your hand flat on his chest, tracing the top button of his shirt. 

“And if I say, I don’t want you to stop? Then what…?”

Shōta sucks in a hollow breath of air and groans slightly while continuing to lick and suck the section of skin exposed to him, not bothering to answer while he attempts to reign himself in.

Unclasping the first button, you run a cold hand along the small sliver of exposed flesh and sigh when the heat of his skin warms your fingers. The atmosphere is too much, and it feels as if you’re melting from the way his lips continue their ministrations under your ear. 

Biting your tongue, you angle your vision as best you can, Shōta’s mess of hair blocks a majority of your view, until you see the tent throbbing in his slacks. A mind clouded by desire, you arch your back and push your tits forward into his chest while rolling your hips forward; his hand on your thigh prevents you from getting any closer.

“You said you wanted me to tell you to stop...” You mumble with a slight chuckle at the trembling hand that’s keeping you still. Pulling your hand from his small patch of exposed chest, you trace down the seam line of his shirt before quickling reaching forward to palm his erection.

“F-fuck!” He hisses from his spot at your neck before sitting back and moving to hold both of your hands back.

Heavy pants leave his lips as dilated eyes watch you with a predator’s stare, once again reminding you just how much larger this pro-hero man was. “You don’t know what you’re doing… you’ve been drinking and–”

“–I want you. How many times do I need to tell you to stop assuming things on my behalf?”

Shōta swallows and shuts his eyes in an attempt to listen to the variety of voices swirling in his head. Yes, you were telling him right here and now that you were attracted to him, but the nagging and self-deprecating voice within him kept pestering on. He was a high school teacher for fuck’s sake, he couldn’t give you an exciting life outside of monitoring a class of rowdy teenagers and drowing in tedious paperwork. He wasn’t highly ranked, highly regarded, fuck he wasn’t even good at communicating… so it was only a matter of time before you got bored and realized he isn’t what you wanted.

A part of him was ok with that though; so desperate for your approval that he would gladly take a position of ‘quick fuck’ or ‘rebound’ if it ment you would grant him even a fraction of your time. 

“Stop doing that.” You tug his chin to face yours. “You keep going somewhere…”

Shōta exhales and blinks at the way your hand had somehow come free from his grasp before stiffly tilting his head down; his cock throbbing painfully in his slacks. He could still stop this, tell you that when you were fully sober you would regret it, and he could live with blue balls and embarrassment.

“I’m just… thinking.”

You frown before cracking a half smile. “Okayyy, well stop that.”

“Huh–?” He blinks as you back up slightly and position yourself on the edge of the sofa.

Spinning to face him fully, you place a hand on his knee and rub it a few times before dragging your fingers to tap against his belt buckle. “Stop thinking.”

Shōta watches as you tug the leather fabric up and through the buckle before slowly sliding out from around his waist loops. “Wait.” He places a hand on yours, and you immediately stop.

“Shōta– listen. I want you, ok?” You look between his eyes and lean in. “Now, what do you want?”

The man breathes deeply a few times and drags his gazes across your lips, down the dozens of bruises on your neck, shamelessly across the upper flesh of your tits, and down to the plush round curve of your hips before returning to your face. “You. Fuck, I need you.”

The moment you’ve been aching for leaves a steady heartbeat pounding in your chest and pussy as his hands slowly remove from their position keeping you at bay. Leaning up slightly, you plant a lingering kiss against his lips before sliding to the floor and nudging his knees apart to kneel between them. 

Shōta watches with lidded eyes as you pop the button of his slacks and slowly tug the zipper down; he plants his feet firmly on the floor and flexes his thighs to raise his hips up, allowing you to shimmy the waistband down just below the swell of his ass. 

The sight is mouth watering, and you can feel your cunt pulsing in desire to have the cock in front of you inside already. But you take your time, awing at the way it’s pushing so desperately at the fly of the boxer briefs that the swollen tip is poking through. 

Gray fabric is darkened in a lewd patch of pre-cum as his cock twitches as you trace the outline of it through the material. Dark pupils never leave your figure as they scan the way your fingertips trace the length of his shaft, up and down, until you pry the fabric of the fly open just a bit more to let a portion of his length slip out. 

Shōta sucks in a breath at the change in temperature and wishes he could sear this vision into his memory like you. Looking back up at the man and ignoring the slight burn in your knees, you lower your mouth down to lick a small strip over the slit of the swollen cockhead; a hum escapes your lips as salty pre-cum lingers on your tongue. 

It’s an absolute vision, having him huff above you, completely at your use and disposal for whatever you wanted to do. Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, Shōta reaches forward to trace the outline of your jaw before tapping on your lips once and sinking his hands into your hair to tug it away from your face before shimmying his boxer briefs down the rest of the way to fully free his cock.. 

Ever the gentleman indeed. 

You smile and tilt your head to kiss the pulse point on his wrist before ducking your head again to now plant a variety of little pecks along the apex of his thighs, the curve of his heavy balls, and around the base of neatly trimmed shaft. How convenient he just ‘happens’ to shave before this– not like you could judge though, you’ve prepared for this evening more than you have any other date in your life. 

A low grumble emits from his chest as you take too long and Shōta guides your head back to where he needed you the most. Smiling to yourself, you lick along his dripping slit once more before flicking your tongue to rub against his frenulum. 

“Ahh, s-shit…”

Fingers scratching your scalp harder, you take the heavy weight of his cock in your hands and lick the entire shaft to the head a few times to lubricate the flesh before opening your jaw and inching him inside slowly. Instinctively, his hips jerk forward to get even deeper into your mouth.

“Haa, just like that… fuck baby–”

The pet name isn’t lost on you, and you’re sure to asking him about it later; for now you flatten you tongue and ignore the sting in your jaw as you take what you can and use your hand to slowly jerk what won’t fit. Even if Keigo was joking about the ‘measurement’ hand motions, the exaggerated distance wouldn’t be far off from the length bullying it’s way into your mouth.

Heavy with a decent thickness and delicious length, you can feel tears prick in the corner of your eyes as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head. A few more rhythmic pulses and you ‘pop!’ the length from your mouth to give your jaw a break and spit down onto his cockhead and jerk him off with a messy handjob. 

“Oh my– FUCK!  D-Don’t stop.. Ngh please…”

Shōta digs his hands into your scalp before flexing his thighs again and jerking up into your dripping hand; you lick the swollen tip as it bobs up and down before releasing your hand and sliding it back into your awaiting mouth.

Careful to relax your jaw and avoid grazing the flesh with your teeth, you let him guide your head to his own rhythm when the flex of his hips grows erratic and needy. You work your lips with enough suction that you aren’t just trying to milk him dry, you’re trying to suck the soul out of him.

One hand leaves your hair and digs into the cushions beside him before Shōta throws his head back momentarily and pushes your head away from his cock. Your hair falls messily back down as a pout works its way onto your lips and Shōta grimaces as his eyes take in the fucked out expression on your face. 

Pupils blown wide, hair thrown around haphazardly, and swollen puffy lips that were just latched around his length are the only thing he sees before pumping himself a few more times and cuming. Hard. 

A gasp escaping your lip when he groans your name and hot spurts of semen dribble on your cheeks, lips, and along the upper swell of your breast from the low neckline of the dress. Shōta continues stroking himself through his orgasm with his head thrown back against the cushions of the sofa and twitching his hips a few more times as he comes down from his high.

Curious, you swipe a line of cum off your cheek and pop a finger into your mouth to sample his flavor; it’s more watery than creamy, and there’s a slight salt flavor that tingles on your tongue. The viscosity is a bit lower than that of honey, and the ropes of semen that litter your flesh begin to slide with gravity and pool at the bend of your collarbone and down the valley of your tits. 

“Ah, shit… sorry I should’ve… should’ve warned you…” Shōta pants out as he sits up a bit straight and releases the hold on his softer semi. 

You swipe another line from your chin and slip it between your fingers with a shrug while Shōta groans at the sight. Pulling you to your feet, Shōta pushes you to sit against the sofa before he rises to his feet and tucks himself back into his boxer briefs and pads into the kitchen. 

“What are you–”

“–I gotta clean up the mess I made.” He immediately responds, taking a fresh paper towel and dampening it before returning to wipe the rest of his cum from your upper chest. 

Blood now circulating evenly, Shōta cleans you up with a gentle touch before tossing the towel into the trash and returning with a gentle rub on your red and swollen knees. His face is apologetic while you take a few gulps of water from your glass; placing it back on the table, you pull his chin to meet your lips. 

On instinct he groans into your mouth, savoring the way your tongue tastes like a mixture of your breath mints, wine, and his own cum. Your lips chase him as he breaks the kiss to run a few pecks down your neck before spinning on the couch to push you back against the armest with him positioned between your thighs. 

Wary hands knead and squeeze the plush flesh of your thighs as large black eyes peer at your face, watching for any sign of discomfort. “Let me return the favor, yea?”

You blush and nod once before he gently bunches your dress to your waist and runs his thumb over your pelvic bones above the flimsy lace thong bands. A tongue wets his lower lips as he traces the material down to the mound of your cunt and drinks in the way your slick has saturated the gusset of the fabric to the point your inner thighs are glistening in arousal. Of course, nothing is ever easy and the thin material of your tights leaves him pawing at the waistband to tug down.

A few accidental snaps of the elastic against your navel, Shōta cuts his losses and pinches the threads to tear a hole big enough for his satisfaction. He hums a promise to buy you new ones when you squeal at the sound of fabric ripping and turns his attention back to your semi-clothed cunt.

“All this.. f’me?” he wonders out loud, dragging an index finger up and down the wet material along the slit of your pussy.

“Ah, y-yes…all for you…baby”

Shōta scoffs slightly at your tease for his pet name and peels the gusset down and out of the way; he had planned on pocketing, but those damned tights just had to ruin his fantasy– ‘he’ll just get them later’, he thinks to himself. 

Shōta shimmies to sit on the floor and lean against the base of the sofa while positioning your thighs to rest on his shoulders; hot breaths fan your cunt as he inhales the intoxicating scent of your pussy.

“Ah, so you have jokes now?”

A whimper escapes your lips and your hand tangles in his hair, desperate to have him closer to where you need him the most.

Long hair tickles the inner flesh of your thighs and Shōta keeps his lips just above your weeping cunt. “Come on, sly girl. Tell me what you want– you’ve been pestering about it all evening.”

Swallowing your saliva and any ego, you lean your head back against the armrest and wiggle slightly, “Y-You… please need you…Shōta”

Satisfied enough, though he would’ve preferred to hear you beg a bit more, Shōta plants a small kiss to the inner apex of your leg and turns his attention to the pussy he’s been desperately dreaming about. Laying his tongue flat and running a few long stripes over your folds and puckering entrance, he pushes his weight forward, addicted to the taste. 

The sounds are vile and filthy, the sounds of him kissing your cunt in a nasty French style before biting and nipping your outer labia and delving his tongue back into the opening of your core. His nose ruts against your puffy clit and your fingers are scratching at his scalp as the waves of pleasure are mind numbing. 

Pulling his tongue away, Shōta rocks back slightly and pops a long middle finger into his mouth before dragging it up and down your folds before slowly sinking it into your cunt. 

“A-ah! Shit….nngh…”

You twitch at the delicious stretch of his finger as Shōta watches your expression for any sign of pain before slowly rocking his finger in and out to a steady rhythm. Fluttering around his finger, he slips in another and massages the walls of your pussy in search of the rough little patch that makes your hips shake in pleasure. 

“Here? Right here?” he murmurs while scissoring his fingers against the spot over and over again and leaning back down to suck and lick at your clit.

You’re a mess against the sofa, biting your lips but not muffling the pornographic sighs and whimpers that escape your throat as the wet gushy sound of him fingering you fills the air. It’s better than your own hand and any toy you’ve owned, and when Shōta ruts his thick fingers against your g-spot over and over again, you wince your eyes shut and grab onto his hair.

“Ohh, fuck… you’re gonna make me cum… haaa I’m gonna..”

He peels his lips from your clit and keeps his pace on your g-spot even, coaxing you through the rush of pleasure as your muscles clamp onto his fingers as if your cunt could milk it dry. “Thaaaat’s it… come on baby you got it… cum f’me, yea?”

The deep pur of his voice has you cuming on his fingers and your hips rutting against his hand in a desperate attempt for even more; a few tears escape your eyes as the pleasure creates a mind reeling haze to wash over you.

Fucking his fingers into you a few more times to ride out your orgasm, Shōta slowly slips them out as you whimper and pops them into his mouth. He’s never been particularly keen on sweets, but the syrupy candy flavor of your cum is making him quickly addicted to the flavor. 

A light afterglow settles on your skin as sweat drips down your temple from the rush of heat coming from the moment as Shōta sits back up on the sofa and rubs reassuring hands over your pelvic bones.

“You alright?”

Alright, doesn’t even begin to describe the euphoric feeling, but you’re too fucked out to propose a better word. 

“Yea…” you pant before pushing yourself up to rest higher against the armrest. “You’re a little too good at that.”

Shōta chuckles and leans down to capture your lips and feed you the taste of your arousal in a similar manner you had with his own cum a few minutes before. He pecks your lips a few more times before leaning back and tucking a lock of hair away from your face and absorbing the glow on your skin.

“Well it’s just luck then…I don’t exactly get out much” he chuckles, eyes beaming gently as he stares at you with starstruck admiration and cum coating his chin. 

You giggle and sink into yourself before tracing a hand down his chest and palming his renewed erection in his boxer briefs. Shōta’s breath hitches slightly, and the insecure doubts that had clouded his mind prior have since been replaced with a dirty primal desire for more.

“We don’t have t–”

“–bedroom?” you cut him off and trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

Shōta doesn’t need to be told twice for that; he rushes to his feet, ignoring the dull hum of the reality show that still plays in the background and pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

“Woa, hey!” you squeak as he tosses you up once to adjust the distribution of weight and power walks down the hallway to his room. 

The view of his round ass is cut short as he flops your back onto his plush mattress and moves to kick his door shut– as if he had to worry about a roommate. Dark eyes don’t leave your figure as he saunters back to the bed and begins peeling off the buttons of his dress shirt; you watch in a trance before glancing around the tidiness of the bedroom.

“You really prepared, huh?” you jest, smirking at the way the pillows are perfectly arranged, the floor lamp is already on to a warm glow, and you can see a set of extra towels sitting on the counter of the sink of the ensuite bathroom. 

Shōta shuts his eyes and groans slightly before tossing the fabric to the floor and peeling off his slacks the rest of the way and kicking them off his ankles. You sit back on the bed and lift your hips up slightly to slide the waistband of your ripped tights to the floor and peel your soaked thong to join it. 

The man standing saunters a bit closer to the bed and assists in tugging your dress up and over your head, taking a moment to kick your saturated panties under his bed to retrieve later. Nipples pebbling at the cool sensation of being freed, Shōta doesn’t waste a moment to dip his head and latch his lips to the swollen nub.

His force has you laying flat on his mattress as he climbs over you and sucks the perky flesh while his other hand kneads and massages the fat of your other breast. The tongue rubbing against your nipple is hot and wet while sharp teeth occasionally bite; a wet patch from his boxer briefs ruts against your hip as he grinds his clothed erection into you.

Shōta places a few extra hickies around the swell of your tit before moving to suck on the next one, repeating his action of squeezing the flesh of the breast not receiving his mouth. It feels like you’re on fire.

Back arching and pushing your chest closer to his mouth, you whine and tug on his hair, desperate for even more. Ignoring the way you paw at his face, Shōta places a few more pecks on your tit and rocks back to slide off the bed and trace a hand down your thigh; silently, he flashes a gentle smile and moves to open his nightstand drawer.

And of course, there’s a box of condoms conveniently placed right at the front of the wooden drawer. The thought of him potentially doing this with other women makes an uneasy feeling course through your veins, but the sight of him biting the plastic wrap indicating the box had never been opened qualms your insecurity. 

Ripping a perforated foil packet from the line of condoms, Shōta keeps the box readily available on the nightstand and tears open the material. 

It’s happening. Fuck, it’s finally fucking happening.

It’s wrong to feel a little giddy, but the thought of you finally being able to have sex with this man after months of pathetic pining is beyond satisfying. 

As he kicks his boxer briefs to the floor and gives a few pumps to his cock, you lean over and notice a full length dressing mirror facing the bed. The angle gives you a view of his sculpted ass and chiseled back muscles, before the man in question taps your ankle once and climbs up on top of you.

“You sure?” He murmurs, planting delicate kisses to the bruised flesh of your throat.

You wrap your hands around his shoulders and nod. “More than anything.”

It feels like he’s died and went to heaven, but Shōta doesn’t wait any longer; rocking back to sit on his knees for a moment, he tugs a spare pillow under your hips and splays your thighs open. Arousal drips from your cunt along with remnants of your prior orgasm and his saliva and he drags his latex-coated cockhead up and down a few times to coat it thoroughly.

“Alright, just breathe…” he gently pushes in the tip and rocks forward. “Bit of a stretch.”

He isn’t lying. Your hands steady yourself on his rear deltoids as a slight burn pushes through you as he slowly sinks inch after inch into your cunt. Nail digging slightly into his flesh, Shōta slowly pumps in and out to edge his way deeper and deeper inside. 

“F-fuck… haaa relax, please… you're so – ngh tight…”

It takes a few moments before he bottoms out completely and his balls tap against the round swell of your ass; you both stay still for a moment, taking in the moment of being so intimately connected before he slides partially out and rocks back in. 

“Ah– mhpf… feels good.. Shōta” you moan into his ear as 8 delicious inches slip in and out, kissing your cervix with each snap of his hips.

The man in question fares no better above you, with one hand on your hip to guide your cunt back to his cock and the other supporting his weight as he hovers over you in a partial plank. Your pussy is hot, wet, and mind-numbingly tight to the point he’s wondering if it feels this good with a rubber, he can’t even imagine how it would feel to hit it raw. 

Though maybe you’d let him do that later. 

Later? Just the thought of being able to fuck you again and again has him about to prematurely ejaculate.

Shōta groans when you tilt your head to bite into neck and plant a few small hickies to his own skin while his dick stirs up your pussy from the inside out. The bed creaks and the headboard slams into the wall with the same rhythm of the ‘plap! Plap! plap! ‘ of his balls hitting your ass with each stroke. 

At least he didn’t share a wall with a student, because then he’d have to resign and never show his face at work again.

“K-kiss me…” you whimper out, tugging his face to look at you once more, almost sensing he was lost in thought during the moment. 

Shōta uses the short pause of connecting his lips to yours as a cheeky way of slowing down to prevent from cumming, though you have no patience for that. Flexing the muscles of your pussy around his cock, nearly feeling the swollen vein that runs along the bottom of his shaft, his resolve crumbles further. 

He needs to make you cum.

Pulling his lips from yours, he pushes your thighs further apart and stands upright with his knees; the angle now allowing for the base of his cock to smack against your puffy clit with each snap of his hips. Pushing your head back into the pillows, a wave gushes from your pussy as the sensation tightens the coil building in your abdomen.

You look better than all his dreams, and Shōta digs in his mind to think of something, anything to prevent him from spilling into the condom before you cum. Toshinori asked him to review a few files during lunch yesterday. The traffic leaving UA at 6pm today was particularly bad. Yamada wants to know if he wants to see a baseball game this weekend…

Tugging a hand from your hips and guiding his fingers to your clit, Shōta snaps back into the moment to focus on the withering expression on your face as your hips twitch and grind up into him further. Understanding the silent request, he runs a gentle circle over the nub of your clit and groans when your lips fall open to whine in pleasure. 

Tits bouncing with every stroke, your eyes hazy and staring up at him, and the delicious squelch of your pussy with each thrust is too much for the man; with a canine pinching his lip, Shōta leans forward and cums.

“Ah… c-cumming… fuck i’m cumming ngh–” 

His hips keep pounding forward, the tip of his cock that would be freely filling up your cunt with his seed is being saturated by the walls of the rubber condom keeping his semen inside. Right when he’s about to slow down, you grasp forward to scratch on his arm and twitch forward.

“W-wait! Please don’t…. Don’t stop– i’m gonna cum”

And who is he to ever deny you?

Ignoring the twinge of overstimulation, Shōta keeps pounding his now semi back inside over and over again; gyrating his hips slightly to grind against the rough patch of your g-spot with each movement. The sensation is overwhelming, and with a whine, your jaw goes slack and a pleasure begins to wash over you– until it stops. 

Fluttering your eyes open and panting as you come down from your high, you pause and bring a hand up to push sections of your hair away from your face. You just came…right? Removing your palm from your forehead, you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch the way Shōta slowly slides his length out of your cunt with a soft hiss.

Wait… what just happened? Did you cum so hard you blacked out–

Red irises glow above you and a small smirk is plastered on his lips as your eyes open in shock.

“Wait, hold on a minute…Shōta– did you just erase my quirk?”

The red hum of his pupils cools back to their dark color as the man slides off the bed and pads over to the bedroom trash can and tosses the soiled condom into the bin. You sit further upright now and furrow your brows in frustration. It was the best orgasm of your life… or so you thought. 

The memory of him pounding into you and leading you right up to the edge ends with an annoying blur as Shōta saunters back to the bed with a new gush of confidence radiating from him.

“Mmm, what if I did?”

“You–!” sitting upright, you shove his shoulder and sit back down on the comforter which is now soiled in a puddle of cum that’s leaked from your cunt. “Why would you do that?!”

He shrugs slightly in feigned ignorance before moving to tilt his floor mirror slightly and returning to the night stand to pick up another small foil packet. Sitting in silence, you watch the way he takes a few breaths and strokes his semi to eventually build into another full erection. 

Shōta leans forward and connects his lips to yours so sweetly, as if he wasn’t just fucking the shit out you to then erase the memory of the best part. Pecking your jaw once, he crawls behind you and gently pushes your upper back to go down into the mattress and tugs your hips upright into a doggy position; you're directly facing the floor mirror and your own reflection.

With a hiss, he slides on a fresh condom and gently massages the globes of your ass before once again, gathering your slick and cum with his covered cockhead. 

Shōta peels his gaze from the twitch of your awaiting pussy and looks at you through the mirror, “I just want to make you remember it regardless of that quirk....” he pauses and sinks in the tip through the first ring of muscle, “Is it wrong of me to fuck you so well that it makes even my erasure not work? That even without that quirk, it’s seared into your memory?”

***

His proposition of having sex so many times that his erasure doesn’t work on wiping your memory of the sensation is a horny and kinky one you’d never think a reserved man like him would have. You go from doggy, to mating press, and then when his dick is sensitive from cumming so much, he fucks you on his fingers twice more for good measure. The evening ends with an attempt at shower sex that simply results in taking you on the bathroom floor when you complain the tiled walls were too cold to be fucked against. 

Your body is sore beyond imaginable belief, and you can’t recall how many times you’ve cum because somebody can’t seem to let you. Despite the rough and desperate sex, Shōta softens when it’s time to dress you in his spare boxers and t-shirt and climb into bed. It’s a weird form of intimacy that feels more vulnerable than the position you were tangled in just moments ago; in the back of both of your minds, you’re wondering when the best time to have the ‘what now’ conversation really is. Though this late, neither one of you makes a move to address it.

He doesn’t mind when your hair still damp from the shower creates a small stain on his nightshirt; tugging you in closer and inhaling the way your scent and his merge together. It’s an awkward few giggles at first, before you nuzzle into his chest and plant a few soft kisses to his pulsing heartbeat while Shōta tightens around your waist that keeps you close. 

It’s late. The alarm clock on his night stand reads 3:17am when you shut your eyes in his arms; the both of you having work in the morning but neither one of you bothering to mention it. Your breathing steadies out before he ever does, and a few gentle combs to the crown of your head and pecks to your forehead make Shōta wonder if maybe this was a dream. 

The air is silent, and right when he’s about to doze off, a soft ‘ping!’ rings out from the night stand beside him. Normally, he would ignore it and return to his slumber, but the late notification makes him wonder if it’s something more important. 

Begrudgingly moving his hand from your waist, careful to avoid waking you up, he turns around and taps on the screen to see not a text message– but a date reminder. Blinking the drowsiness away, and clicks it open and sighs at the note.

Upcoming event from user KAYAMA: Friday 8am

He can practically hear the woman’s voice through the phone from the memory.

‘If you don’t make a move, I'm giving it to Keigo by Friday morning.’ Too tired to deal with it now, he tosses his phone back on to the nightstand, face up, and turns back over to sleep with you in his arms.

a/n:

it's the moment we've all been waiting for, the chapter where you guys finalllly bang hehe

this chapter, while it was pre-written, took sooo much longer than I thought to finish [almost 12k words of pure sexual tension and smut]

the story continues on a bit more from here, wrapping up the loose ends with more added smut scenes littered here and there [maybe one or two more chapters which is crazy to think its almost over]

im so glad you guys like this series and i hope this filthy vile slutty chapter makes you happy [and horny] <333

likes/reblogs/comments all appreciated :)

and i love reading ur comments, you guys are so fucking funny I LUV U POOKIES -oatmeal

taglist: @idkidk32 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @aizawasbaeee @smashley351 @beachaddict48 @lynnesm @lashaemorow @kriscr0ss @hotvillianapologist @loverofdeepspace @lainlovelain @shslvampy @siraxealot

[rmbunnie]

It's most likely just Starlin trying to get to Jason dying faster because he did not like Robin, but the whole "Jason's spiraling because of his grief for his parents" thing they were trying to spin was honestly really weird, not supported by the rest of the run INCLUDING the parts Starlin wrote, and kinda reads like an unreliable narrator situation because all of the information supporting it is given through Bruce's narration, him speculating on Jason's thoughts and actions.

The plot thread of Jason's grief for his family affecting his behavior shows up like TWO issues after Jason first becomes Robin back when Collins was writing, and gets sorted out after one conversation where Jason gets to confront Bruce about hiding his father's death from him for 6 months. After that Jason is behaving normally until they encounter three predators in a row, and each time Bruce insists that they can't do anything because of The Rules and assorted red tape/diplomatic immunity plotlines. (The sister of a woman who got dismembered actually tricked the violent-misogynist killer who dismembered her sister (and then got his serial killings dismissed through a technicality) into attacking her, and ends up killing him in self-defense, and then Jason's like "seems fair" and Bruce is like "no. it's NOT. we need to follow laws and not take justice into our own hands. which like wtf Bruce! you are a vigilante who just used a custom tank to fight an evil televangelist! who then got ripped to shreds by his followers while you watched!)

Bruce kinda just decides with Alfred that it must be grief upsetting him and not the dozens of brutally killed women and their predatory killers who the law inexplicably protected, (all written by Starlin, so retconning it for DitF like five issues later would be an odd move) but the only text claiming that's why Jason was upset is from Bruce's POV and through Alfred's dialogue. Jason himself doesn't display any signs of grief in the story itself, or even act or speak in a way that alludes to Catherine and Willis beyond looking at a picture of them and smiling fondly while he sorts through their possessions. He kinda just happens upon the box with his mother's info by chance, and is like ok i guess we're doing mom searches now. He was only going for a walk through his old neighborhood, not actively searching out info on his family. When Jason is deciding whether or not to run off without telling Bruce, he considers telling him and then goes "no, all he cares about is being Batman, he wouldn't even understand why I want to see my mom." Which, I mean, "Bruce wouldn't get it" is a REALLY odd angle if the sole motivator for spiraling, then getting benched* and running away to search out his bio-mom, was because he was mourning his dead parents, a thing he notably has in common with Bruce. That statement only really makes sense if he's thinking about a different thing that was greatly upsetting to him that Bruce brushed past, like maybe a combo of hiding the murder of his dad for half a year and allowing several cases involving sexual violence to freely develop body counts in the name of the law.

Lots of people have written about how Jason's stay in the manor might have seemed dependent on being Robin with how he was kinda just scooped up, but (if we're including Detective Comics in our characterization,) Bruce had offered to let him resign from Robin and just live with him (a little late, but still. It's worth noting Batman proper shows Jason afraid and uncomfortable at the thought of Dick taking Robin back, which lends more merit to the housing-dependent-on-Robin-misunderstanding interpretation, but canon is pick and choose anyways.) The lack of trust involved in his choice to search out his mom kinda reads like it was bred by more than that alone, and Bruce's prioritization of the law over the protection of the people it ignores is notably upsetting to him in the prior issues. tbh I really do believe the outcomes of those cases could have informed Jason's stance that Bruce's method of justice is ineffective right alongside his own murder and his experiences in Lost Days.

It would make sense for Bruce to not consider his own actions while he's thinking through things that would upset Jason, because from his point of view the things there that were bothering Jason were the criminals alone, not the way that the methods with which they were approaching their crimes continually led to the perpetrators evading actual justice. During the point in DitF where he's thinking through motivations for Jason's running away because something isn't adding up for HIM, the idea doesn't so much as cross his mind. It would also add another layer to Jason's sulkiness upon Bruce's arrival if he held the belief that Bruce is ignoring the consequences his brand of justice has on victims (and the way it's affecting him to helplessly watch it play out), starts to hope that Bruce actually can understand his thought processes/relate to him when he shows up, only to be told to his face that Bruce is prioritizing his style of justice over Jason again. With the way everything that led Jason to his bio-mom was comically circumstantial and the context of the previous issues, it's kind of the ONLY way Death in the Family makes sense to me. Tldr: I feel like the grief claimed as reasoning for Jason's actions leading up to his death is mainly speculation from Bruce and Alfred and the more textually-supported reason for his erratic behavior and lack of trust in Bruce is the lack of intervention in several sensitive cases that led them to worsen unobstructed and eventually permitted them to escalate into casualties in 2 out of 3 cases.

*Also, side note, but the idea that Jason got benched for the Filipe situation, while perfectly reasonable, is not quite spot on. The Filipe situation escalated into the fight in the junkyard where his dad is crushed by a car and Bruce is all "everything you do has consequences" which is kinda big words for a guy whose lack of action indirectly lead to a girls death earlier in the storyline, but true. Jason actally gets benched because he jumps directly into gunfire while fighting the third set of predators and Bruce starts to worry he's getting a little suicidal with it. He baits a guy into shooting at him on purpose again trying to protect mom prospect number 1 later on in DitF, so Bruce might have had a point with that one.

[reiderwriter]

Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️

Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.

My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!

It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.

But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.

You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.

Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.

You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.

You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.

You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.

“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.

When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.

On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.

You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.

–X–

It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.

You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.

But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.

It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.

The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.

Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.

–X–

It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.

Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.

You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.

You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.

Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.

You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.

“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.

“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.

“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.

“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.

–X–

It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.

It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.

Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.

“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.

He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.

It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.

“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”

“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.

“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.

“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”

“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.

“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”

–X–

For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.

You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.

You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.

“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”

“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.

“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.

“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.

“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.

“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.

“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.

The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.

Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.

“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.

And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.

He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.

“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.

“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.

“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.

“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.

“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.

“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.

“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”

“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.

“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.

“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”

“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”

You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.

“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.

“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.

“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.

“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.

He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.

It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.

[shanblackrx]

Ok, first of all, I have just rewatched the special episode and although I already knew how it'd end, the moment the credits went up I literally buried my face in my hands and SOBBED. It's not that hard to make me cry with media, but I usually just tear up and nothing more. The last time I remember sobbing like this was with the end of Chimera Ants arc of Hunter x Hunter manga, which is a completely different type of story and media whatsoever, back in 2012. And I didn't know the end. Spectacular manga btw go read it

That said, I'm freshly out of it so here's a few of my considerations, personal opinions and also my theory. I'm not diving into the analysis of the episode itself for now, as I like to make these for more specific things I find in the work so they deserve a separate post for each, though I will be analyzing the post-credits scene because we don't have answers so we need to speculate.

Looooong text with almost no pictures ahead, just my yapping:

I expected the special episode to be really just Jack and Joke's cute little established relationship, which we did get to see (they're so disgustingly sappy, oh my god. I love them) for a good chunk of the episode. But we all also expected the wedding which, technically, did happen, just not how we wanted.

I think a lot of us just wanted only the happy part of it, maybe just a small conflict that would resolve within the story, which is what special episodes usually offer, especially because the original series wraps up perfectly and doesn't really give that much room for a continuation. And I think that because a lot of people expected this, they were utterly disappointed with it, even mad (that and also killing off one of the leads, like. Yeah I get it lol).

And I understand. Jack & Joker is perfectly balanced, with a nice and perfect ending. If I could choose, I wouldn't want a continuation either - you know, the chances of ruining a perfectly good show increases if you extend it for more than it should, and J&J is already perfect the way it is.

But I was offered the special episode, and now I have to work with it.

The first time I watched it I thought it was a bit rushed and confusing, albeit very intense (in a positive way). In my much calmer (as one can be), much less stressed out and anxious mood of my rewatch, I could feel it better. And I think it's way more seamless than I thought at first. Curiously, I also had the same feeling with the og series; it got so, so much better once I've rewatched it, and it kept getting better with all the small details I caught in every new watch.

It still has all the essence of J&J. The absurd comedy, the action, the romance, the heavy angst, the visuals, the lack of canon tattooaran even if it's heavily hinted. So all in all it was still a complete J&J experience.

I really do like the fact Save is not a perfect boss - he's basically just a math kid. He's not prepared to take care of a whole neighborhood like he did with bank accounts. Variables - people - were not in the system of his little bank computer. Taking care of a whole community is no easy task, especially since he is no mafia, he doesn't have the kind of experience and intimidation to keep bad apples in check. And even so, he still worked his hardest; and even so, it's still not enough.

So having criminals that were under Alice's thumb but now scattered like cockroaches searching for another ditch make having control over these fires they set even harder. I think it's a nice and coherent touch, and stuff happening because of it makes sense.

Also, although the uwu language JackJoke used throughout the moments they were out and about making everyone unwilling witnesses of their disgusting love was extremely funny and cute, it was really nice to see their heartfelt conversation when they were alone in Jack's room. It felt much more like they were baring their hearts for the other to hold, a genuine moment of intimacy, especially since they were making their wedding invites individually and by hand. It bore such a huge significance to their relationship I really can't begin to tell you how much I loved this scene. (they're also wearing shirts of complementary colors 😭💚)

I wasn't really expecting Carbon to make a comeback. But his explanation on why makes sense, and once again it hints that money and power walk together. It also gives him a more definite end (dying, finally. bitch) to take him out the picture for good since he could just eventually walk out the prison and go after them once again.

The casino mission was SUCH a delightful surprise to me! It's such a heavy wave to the pilot episode and it was really thrilling. Joke playing and cheating on poker was one of the sexiest things he could've ever done in his life lmao also even when he's cheating he manages to be gay af with his little ace and jack cards.

Admittedly, I was a bit underwhelmed with the fighting scenes. A lot of them were subpar compared to the ones in the og show, it not only lacked intensity but it was also awkward to see people in the background waiting to join the fight instead of throwing themselves into it, much like Jack's rampaging into Boss' office, which is one of my absolute favorite scenes in the og show, that's what I was expecting of them. However it was super nice to see the other piggies fighting with what they had, showing they were better prepared. Aran here takes the cake for me.

After that it was downhill. Joke not letting other people decide his destiny is one of the most Joke things in the entire show. With all that was happening it was rather predictable, but then again J&J does its thing and takes the predictability for a twist. "กูรักมึงที่รัก" ???? Using tirak in this situation when every other situation it was used was extremely, sickeningly sweet? Devastating. These words in that tone will be branded on my brain forever.

The whole thing with Jack going through the stages of grief and the ghost wedding destroyed me, even more so in my rewatch. Once again I'm here EATING UP Yin's crying scenes (one of my most favorite scenes in any BL ever is Vee crying under the rain at the bridge). I know everyone talks about War's acting when it comes to crying and obviously he always nails it, but I still think Yin should have more recognition in these kind of scenes too, because he always manage to make it so heartbreaking, and it wasn't different here.

The swings scene with him hallucinating Joke to be able to accept his presumed death was one of the most beautiful, most heartbreaking 'endings' I've seen in a Thai BL.

HOWEVER. I absolutely refused to believe they'd actually end in that note. It could be as devastatingly beautiful as it gets but I genuinely thought if they ended it like that it'd be SUCH a huge stab in the back of fans. Jack and Joke barely managed to live a happy life to then be yanked from it. It really didn't feel fair, that they gave us such a perfect little ending in the og show to then just say 'how about no?'. I was honestly in shock and denial. I was really thinking like 'I really, genuinely don't think they'd do this. I will only believe it ends like this when the episode reaches the end and stops playing by itself.'

And I'm glad I thought like that because they really didn't let me down. Some Marvel level of post-credits scene this is. The relief to see Joke isn't actually dead. The enormous cliffhanger.

I still am of the opinion that J&J didn't need a continuation, but now that it's out there, I just hope it's as good as the og show. And that maybe we don't have to wait for another 2 years, although I will gladly do so if that means they will deliver another sublime experience.

But I also hope it ends with that and they manage to move on to other, new things, because they've already proven they can do anything they want and it will be good. I really, really want them to take over the Thai BL world as a power couple with their independent productions, because they showed everyone they can.

Now, to the post-credits scene. Here goes my theory:

Reading all theories and also frying my brain to come up with what will they do with that cliffhanger, I thought of something that might make sense. This, however, would only work (well) in a full 10-12 eps season rather than another special episode or movie.

First of all, I think it's a new character (and that's why I think this will only work with a full season, because introducing a new character just for a short episode will give no substance to it). It's no one we know and I tell you why I think that: Joke had someone specific in mind. I don't think he's talking about Carbon here. Especially because everyone in the conversation knows Carbon very personally, he could just say his name.

So having this in mind, he might've been referring to this new character. So the fact this person is the one... 'housing' Joke, and who tended to his wounds, and also for his shock, this person might be either an old cellmate or someone else that's been incarcerated and Joke knows about or personally. Maybe a rival thief. So he's talking about this person here.

Also, VERY important missing information in the subs: Joke says "someone like me" in the sense of 'has the same abilities/did/does the same things'. This is crucial information that is in several other subs but not in the English one. Because the English subs on this ep are dogshit, lbr.

So I think one option that could happen:

This person wants Joke to either work for or with them. After all, you can't just wipe an alias like "legendary thief" in a year. Whatever it is that they want him for, it might be convenient for them that Joke's deemed dead, or they actually needed Joke to "die" for it to work. They might be in cahoots with someone we already know, or they might be acting alone.

This can be a double-edged sword because the person can be good, neutral or evil and we might not know until the very last minute.

Now one thing that caught my attention: The black shirt in the background.

Absolutely nothing when it's about clothes is Just There in J&J. There's always a lot of subtle storytelling in their clothes, especially when it comes to black and white. And specifically a black shirt hanging in so openly there and no other piece of clothing while Joke is wearing white? This is deliberate.

Do you remember Jack's red ticket? When the joker turns black to white, etc? This might be the opposite of that. This might mean starting from square one, undoing everything up to that point, or it might also mean Joke's darkening arc. Joke's wearing white, so washing this away to taint it black. It might also mean someone who's opposite of him if the shirt is referring to this new character, but I'm not too sold on this idea since black is mainly Jack's motif, especially in relation to Joke. Also, maybe this is the 'enemies' Nang was talking about.

And maybe because Joke has no choice but to do what he's told, whether if it's under threat or because maybe Jack would be in danger if he doesn't because that's their thing, or both, probably both, he can't show up to Jack or any of the piggies, and that is the main conflict of the season.

This can tie with the whole 'moving on' thing about Jack that everyone is terrified of. I don't think that even if it might seem so to add to the tension, Jack will ever actually move on; not FROM Joke at least. He can move on from the pain, make peace with the idea he's not coming back, but not from what he feels for Joke. If Joke appeared in front of him be it tomorrow or in 10 years, he'd probably just resume their lives together (after coming back from the shock of seeing him alive which can take some time). He himself said Joke is the one he loves the most. And some people change you so viscerally and completely that they'll always mean the same to you, forever, which is definitely the case for both.

Maybe if we're going through this route because J&J's classic angst and pain, Joke's gonna watch him from afar going on with his life, then that lack of self-worth he has that I'm pretty sure doesn't just vanish in such a short time even if he's found love and some healing, might keep him from approaching Jack even if he wants to and can do so; he wouldn't want to ruin whatever Jack has built without him so far.

If that's the case, if this really happened, I'd want Jack to find out and tackle Joke on the ground when he's being watched just like their first encounter after the 5 years. It'd be one of the most poetic cinema cycle closing one could pull off with this possible new season. But that's just my wishful thinking.

It can also be something completely different and I'm all for it as long as it retains J&J vibe, quality and unpredictable turns.

And also many more YinWar kissies, there's never enough of those.

[ghostiequill]

Sanji x anxious eater reader

No, shut up this is not me projecting (but i know he'd be so sweet about it)

You have a troubled relationship with eating your whole life

No one was the pinpoint cause of it, but seeing all the other people with their ripped abs and perfect hourglass figures caused hesitation everytime you decided to indulge yourself in food

With your sweet tooth, it was even more difficult. Everything delectable delight you would indulge yourself in, you felt a tsunami of guilt afterwards staring at the empty wrapper, devastated at your lack of control

When you decided to join the Straw Hats, you were shocked to see how forward the cook was, despite how you felt about your figure. He would constantly gush over you, how well you fought, bending to your will and would lather you in constant compliments 

The problems came when he tried to spoil you with his cooking, he would go out of his way to serve you first, despite the various teasing protests by the rest of the crew . Every bite was sinful in every sense of the word, the flavors dancing on your tongue as you swallowed both it and the anxious feelings threatening to bubble up. You could feel your stomach rebelling against the contents as you excused yourself early from dinner, not the first time

Unknownst to you, Sanji was hyper aware of your presence on board. He would notice every time you would leave the table early and the smaller portions you would give yourself compared to every else’s, your furrowed brow and anxious looks when he would cook something more decadent for you

He finds you alone one night after he finishes tidying his kitchen and kicking out Luffy for attempting to steal leftovers. He walks up to you gently laying a hand on your shoulder to try not to spook you.

“Hey, are you ok?” He asked

You forced a smile, “Yeah, why wouldn't I be?”

“If there's anything you want to talk about, you can come to me. We’re a crew, we can confide in each other, you know that right?” Sanji’s eyes are full of concern as he squeezes your shoulder 

“Of course, I know that. You've always been so sweet to me, I really feel like we’re a family here” You claim

“I've just noticed you seem really anxious around food, anything I can do to alleviate that pain for you I will do in an instant” Sanji says, his voice eager to please and full of care 

“…It's just been really hard sometimes. I can't help but feel every calorie that passes my lips and I feel like I haven't done enough to earn it”your eyes looking anywhere but his as you force out the confession

Sanji looks taken aback, grabbing your shoulder and gently making you face him.  “You don't have to earn food. You need calories to do things you love. Your body deserves to be nourished and cared for. You don't earn the right to eat. Every meal is an opportunity for self care. There's no conditions to self love. Food is a vital source of life and love that we shouldn’t take for granted. It is my sworn duty as your friend to help protect you from any enemy, including yourself. If you’ll allow me, I can do my best to help” 

Your eyes are full of tears as you finally break down, head in your hands as you start crying. Sanji doesn't say anything else as he rubs your back

The next day for breakfast, he prepares for you an easier meal of eggs and sausage, healthy but still getting in vital calories. It’s like that for every meal, just for you. He would gently introduce richer ingredients in your meals, easing you in with words of affirmation, small touches and toothy smiles

You couldn't help but feel the love prepared with every meal prepared specifically for you and witness Sanji’s affection and see his smile with every bite. 

The following days were filled with nothing but affection, tender gestures, and thoughtful culinary choices. Through his actions, he conveyed a deep love of your body and soul, easing you into a life of indulgence.

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Enhypen's Thoughts on Being an Idol Part 2

Disclaimer: No facts, just a girl with cards, just had to say this. I expected them to give me wild answers and my boys didn't disappoint. It gets weird, dark and a bit uncomfortable, so if you are into that, keep reading.

Okay, I have been wanting to start this second section of this series for so long, but had other readings so had to push it back, as I am noisy and want more tea in the industry, so decided to go back with more questions for this. I also set intentions for some cards to pop out for specific reasons, so if they do, I will elaborate more, now I tend to get lots of insight from this group, so let’s see what I get here. Also, this is a lot, so sorry for the long read lol

Heeseung

Thoughts on Company? (Ace of Swords/2 of Swords/Page of Wands) This doesn’t seem too bad. Why do I always get their company is messy with their ideas and I get this here. I can also see he doesn’t always agree with their ideas. It is like they have an idea. It is like what he thinks and what the company thinks don’t align, so what he wants to do doesn’t always come about, or if they have an idea for him, he doesn’t go for it. He sees them as very timid and unwilling to take action on things or not comfortable stepping outside their comfort zone or bubble, lack of risk taking. 

Thoughts on Industry? (3 of Wands/The Devil/The Hanged) Well, one of the cards I set an intention for popped up, which was the Devil. I set an intention if the environment is toxic for this card to pop up, so yeah, he finds the industry toxic and dark. Lots of things lurking in the shadows and that are hidden. Sinister shit, he can’t really do much about it, with that Hanged man card is like giving me see no evil, here no evil, just trying to remove himself from that. But what is it though? That I can’t tap into. Ok man, don’t hate me here, but with that 3 of Wands, he is giving me you might have to do some dark shit to expand globally as an idol. 3 of wands is about expanding and moving overseas. And with the hanged man, he had to do this, his hands were tied. Don’t shoot the messenger please, no facts, just a girl with cards. I am crazy lol

Effects Industry has on him? (Ace of Cups/9 of Pentacles/4 of Pentacles) Ugh, knew this would kind of be hard, so before I pulled the cards and asked the question, I got mental clarity and distortion. He may have found clarity about things, but can also have a distorted view on things now with this ace of cups, it gives me drinking. I sense this boy drinks a lot from the vibes I got in my past readings, but I can be very wrong. There is a lot of emotions and vulnerability and exposure he has felt as well. I was pulled to the birds in both the cards, which signify hope, love, freedom, happiness, joy and community, so he may have felt a sense of that as well, so it isn’t all bad. He has also learned to conserve and save and to protect his assets. 

Thoughts on Fanservice/shipping? (The High Priestess/Knight of Wands/Temperance) Okay, overall see him having no problem with either. So, I did set an intention for the High Priestess to pop up if there is a ritualistic element to things, so I am getting they do fanservice to put a spell on the fans, to get them to be more invested in them. I mean, it doesn’t have to be sinister, it makes sense to make fans believe they are their whole world, so they can keep following them. He definitely pursues fans, flirts with them, we know this. I say he enjoys the love he gets and what he receives. I had to ask about shipping, because I felt this was more fanservice, and got Queen of Pentacles. I can say he may be cautious about it, but sees it as part of the job.

Jay

Thoughts on Company? (The High Priestess/7 of Cups/3 of Swords) Well, as I mentioned about the high priestess, they do some of that in the company. He is the third HYBE person to give me some indication of rituals they do there, what it is, who the fu** knows. They also squash whatever dreams, ideas and fantasies they have. He has definitely felt hurt, betrayed and slighted by the company. 

Thoughts on Industry? (10 of Swords/The Lovers/Knight of Cups) I think he hates the industry to be honest. I get a sense he feels betrayed a lot, or he has been stabbed in the back a lot. The Lovers in this deck always gives me being shipped or contactually forced to do so and with the Knight of Cups moving away from it, he is like I want no part of it. So, if he adores members of his group, it isn’t for show, he sincerely just adores them, but we’ll see when I get to that question. So, I am getting binding spells for the Lovers card, if someone can tell me what that is, I tried looking it up, but that could be a thing too. I might be stepping into something here, because I do not feel good. Ya’ll are not stopping me with this! Your dirt needs to be exposed, although no facts lol I legit feel they put spells around these idols, so readers can’t go in deeper, this is why I get sick, they make you sick, so that you stop. I am starting to get it. But these industry heads aren’t stopping me, but I will need many breaks between this. 

Effects Industry has on him? (King of Pentacles/8 of Wands/The High Priestess) Let’s just take a shot to see how much the high priestess comes up in this reading lol I am having a hard time thinking, man these guys are good, but I will push past this. I feel he is pushed to do a lot of things. He has learned to be as successful as he wants to be, I see him wanting to be this KOP’s, he will have to do all these activities, play along in a sense. This is so weird, he may have a book of secrets and spells, they may give them this, Idk, maybe he has learned to do spell work. This sh** I am getting is even too wild for me, this makes no sense. I mean it does, but didn’t think I would get weird sh** like this to be honest. 

Thoughts on Fanservice/shipping? (Ace of Wands/The Tower/The Star) This makes no sense lol Let me try to make sense of this, so when he ignites some sort of shipping scenario, it creates chaos for him and he feels vulnerable when this happens. It is like he acts sweet with members out of kindness and when people take it out of context, he doesn’t like that. I need to ask about fanservice, because this was only about shipping to me, he gave me the 9 of Cups, in this deck, I see it as dissociation, so when he does fanservice, he doesn’t really do fanservice, he is just kind to the fans, he is sincere. I just sense a disconnection there, like he doesn’t do that, or believe in that, he’s just going to be himself. Alright, that was tough, moving on. 

Jake

Thoughts on Company? (Queen of Cups/8 of Pentacles/Ace of Wands) Interesting, he sees them a bit favorably. I feel he believes they encourage him and give him a lot of love and support. They help him out when need be. They inspire him to take action on things. They encourage his growth. Just my opinion here, not going off cards, but I feel they may favor him, because he just goes along and doesn’t really fight back, so I can see him seeing them in a better light, but could be wrong here. I will admit being biased, I think the company is a piece of crap, but he favors them, they help him a lot, so I respect his opinions on this. I don’t hide what I get even if I don’t like it or goes against what I feel. 

Thoughts on Industry? (The Lovers rv/6 of Cups/Knight of Cups) Okay, I don’t think Jake knows about any of the dark sh** that goes down to be honest, he seems oblivious, naive, and way too innocent. I don’t even think he looks too deep into things. I don’t see him involved in the ritualistic stuff. I feel nothing here, so I don’t feel any spellwork is on him. With the Lovers rv, it gives me he isn’t really binded or anything. The 6 of cups just gives me very naive energy. Honestly it may be better to not know, sometimes ignorance is bliss. He could be spiritually guided, so he may intuitively know which is the right direction to go in, so he doesn’t fall for traps. I just see him being oblivious to things, kind of in his own world. I always get positive cards for him when it comes to his career, unlike the others and now I may see why a bit.

Effects Industry has on him? (3 of Wands/Page of Pentacles/10 of Swords) Okay, didn’t expect it to be bad from the first two questions. I feel like it may be too slow of a process for him to expand. He may not like the work put into what he does. There could be some backstabbing and betrayal here with this 10 of Swords. I do feel he is kind of blocked or stunted here, this makes no sense though. I am just a messenger. I don’t get clarity on everything here. It is like he has a vision and wants to work towards something, but ends up being betrayed and gets very down when it doesn’t happen.

Thoughts on Fanservice/shipping? (10 of Swords/7 of Cups/Ace of Pentacles) He may like to fill the delusions of people, it brings in the money for him, or an opportunity for him. The 10 of swords may have to do with shipping, he may very well hate it. Not really understanding why that card came out, it seems a bit dramatic for this question. I got a clarifier and got the 7 of pentacles, and got it limits what he can do, this could go for shipping and fanservice. I don’t understand this boy and have no patience to go further.

Sunghoon

Thoughts on Company? (The Empress/Judgment/Temperance) He feels they helped create him. Did his Mother get him in the industry, know the company? Wtf is this I am getting. Also, I was pulled to look at the water in all these cards and got water therapy, so not sure what that means for him. He blends well with the company. They come to good compromises and conclusions. I am getting a weird message, but it is like two people, maybe his Mom, or someone who agreed with the company to get him there. Do we know how he came to be an idol? And should we believe it? lol I am also getting he is a bit caged in and stifled. I feel a lot of people pull the strings for him, going to be real, well as real as I can get with just reading cards, no fact, got to stress that.

Thoughts on Industry? (The Empress/2 of Wands/6 of Pentacles) Who is his Mother? I think she may have some pull in this industry, or knows someone. I don’t know how to put this, because this is not a good look I am getting here from his Mom’s end. I hate that I am getting this. I am just saying it in the best way I can, she may have pimped out her son, no facts. I am not going further, not liking this energy at all and I feel bad for Sunghoon to be honest. 

Effects Industry has on him? (Ace of Swords/Page of Wands/King of Swords) To be cautious in how he approaches things. To be clear with his intentions. Maybe to detach a bit. He may have learned to repress his creative potential or curiosity. To approach things or see things intellectually. He also learned to defend himself and his ideas. I say he mostly tries to intellectualize things, rather than go with his passionate curiosity he may.

Thoughts on Fanservice/shipping? (Queen of Pentacles/4 of Pentacles/4 of Cups) It is all business and money to him. He is pretty detached to the idea of both. He doesn’t really care about either. I can tell he doesn't care, because he isn't saying much here lol

Honestly, this just made me really sad. I know there is more to the story for him, but I will be real, I don't think I want to dig further, I don’t think I want to know what he is hiding, because honestly I don’t see it malicious on his end, it is more on what others did to him. Kind of makes me sick. I hope I am completely wrong with this. There is a reason he may come off detached.

Sunoo

Thoughts on Company? (2 of Pentacles/The Moon/The Magician) There is uncertainty when it comes to them. I am getting they are hiding or repressing his potential. I am getting annoyed with this 2 of pentacles, not sure why I am getting this, I just get from that card that they don’t know what to do with him, like juggling what they should give him, honestly fu** them, I am annoyed. I see the moon card and the magician, and all I see is the moon (hiding) and the magician (potential/skill set), those two together, give me hiding his potential. He has the skillset to do a lot of things, but that is left in the dark. I can just sense his annoyance with the company in the energy.

Thoughts on Industry? (7 of Pentacles/4 of Wands/The Hanged Man) He is concocted how they want him to be like. He feels stunted and limited by the industry. It is a nice community, he enjoys the community, maybe the other idols. I got they commune with one another, so the other idols understand one another. He feels held back, tied up, and can't really do much. He’s learned to accept his situation. 

Effects Industry has on him? (Page of Wands/3 of Cups/Justice) This is a weird message, but to go out and explore, but to be cautious who one is friends with, be rational, make good decisions. Have a good moral compass. It is like he likes to have fun, but he also needs to be cautious and not do any wild stuff. I am also seeing he may not want to engage in drinking or partying too much, because that can distort his thinking. To always have a clear mind. I am seeing that he may be tempted to do some wild stuff, maybe people tempt him, but he does not do it, because that could be used against him.

Thoughts on Fanservice/shipping? (3 of Cups/Page of Wands/7 of Cups) He may think people pay too much attention to it, put too much focus on it. He is cautious about being a part of a ship. He may feel some people are deluded, or he doesn’t want to be part of that narrative or fantasy. He also enjoys being around fans. I don't think he sees fanservice as a job, he sees fans as his friends, he enjoys their company, they inspire him in some ways.

It is hard to extract information from this boy. I have to sit much longer with the cards and his energy, which I do not like, to get any information.  

Jungwon

Thoughts on Company? (3 of Swords/2 of Cups/Justice) It seems like they could have ended a partnership he was in, could be romantic, but maybe a partnership, okay now I am getting broken promises, so they may have promised him something, but they could have broken a partnership he may have wanted. I look at the Justice card and get wielding their power. I asked why the Justice card, because the Emperor would show that more, and was pulled to the little mouse on the bottom at the foot of the man in the deck and I got the message to balance the scales, so I will take this as they wanted to put him in his place, because he may have an upperhand on them, maybe he imposed too much power for them. Weird, but going with it. My brain will explode if I think too much of this. 

Thoughts on Industry? (King of Pentacles/4 of Swords/The Chariot) Ugh, I really hate the messages I get here sometimes, because I lowkey don’t want to say this, but have no way else to move around this, not saying he does this, but what I see, is someone pampering the KOP’s, so this gives me you have to cater to the higher ups, and then I have the 4 of Swords, with a person naked, which can be seen as a bed, so you may have to lay in bed with them, there it is. I can’t take this any other way else. I just can’t unsee it. I was trying to figure out something else to describe this. Also, the person looks passed out in the card, so are they coherent? ugh god. The Chariot would mean further advancement, so to move ahead, you may have to do that. Why did he show me this, why did I get this message? This is what they do in the West, so do they do this sh** here too wtf I don’t see this happening with him in particular. He doesn’t give me that vibe, but could have happened to others he is aware of. I felt he may have gathered this information as he is a very observant person always looking for information. This could be why he was put in his place. He may know too much. Because this boy gave me a lot here, not going to lie. I want to know where he gets this information, how he knows this, and why did you tell me this!? lol I know I asked. Anyway, I got the message corporate ops when I asked how he knows, and my brain hurts, because I don't get what that means. This is how channeling works, you only get a word or two, or a sentence and you have to figure out how to interpret it, but this has me stumped.

Effects Industry has on him? (3 of Wands/King of Pentacles/The Sun) Well, he has learned you got to appease the higher ups to get to where you want to go. The child on the The Sun card speaks volumes to me, I get stolen youth, steal the light of the youth, they feed off youthful energy. I also see it as if you appease them, you find success. I am also getting they want them to depend on them, like they want you to be a child forever, so you can depend on them and not go any further. They give you everything and then act like you are ungrateful if you defend yourself and speak up for yourself, but the reason they do everything is to keep the upper hand, not out of kindness. 

Thoughts on Fanservice/shipping? (6 of Pentacles/Knight of Pentacles/3 of Pentacles) It is all about money and work for him, it is part of the job. I feel he was told this could happen, so he was prepared. I feel he is all fine with fanservice, but shipping between members could make him uncomfortable, but he will push that aside if it benefits him in any way, success wise and financially. Not sure it does, but if it does, he may be all for it lol

I am surprised I didn't feel any discomfort with him with the information he knows. I would think he would have these spells on him too, so that intrigues me. I think he is very smart and knows how to maneuver around that. Very interesting.

Ni-ki

Thoughts on Company? (Page of Cups/The Hermit/4 of Cups) The first thing I heard was they ain't sh** lol They sold him a fantasy, he came in hopeful and optimistic. Maybe took that energy for granted. Now he seems pretty detached and avoidant from them. He is kind of closed off, doesn’t take many offers, if any, from them, or he isn’t emotionally invested in them. Pretty much a lone wolf(this kept popping up in my head), just trying to stay afloat this company. They may try to do things to make him happy, but it never really works or nothing they offer gives him any hope or excitement. He may not even want to be a part of this company anymore with this energy. 

Thoughts on Industry? (3 of Cups/5 of Wands/10 of Cups) Boy does not like the idol life that much. The first word that popped up was cult when I saw the 3 of cups, so take that as you like. Maybe cult-like thinking as well. He doesn’t like the competitive energy, the drama, the fights. I was wondering why I got the 10 of cups, then I was pulled towards a pyramid on the card, never saw that, and got a pyramid scheme, so that exists, no facts though. I don’t really understand how that works, and not going to try to explain what that means, but that was the message I got.

Effects Industry has on him? (King of Wands/10 of Cups/6 of Wands) It fuels a strong passion within him. It can be a creative outlet for him. It allows him to shine. There is a burning passion there with him. It gave him confidence in his creative abilities. There is a goal he is focused on achieving, more on an emotional level as an idol, a sense of fulfillment, so that is why he may deal with the drawbacks of the industry. It brought out a competitive spirit in him. It is like the achievements he has, gave him more confidence in his abilities. He is able to shine and show his true creative potential as an idol.

Thoughts on Fanservice/shipping? (7 of Cups/3 of Wands/The Empress) I am getting he doesn’t care, if people want to fantasize, let them be, why do I get he sometimes plants the seeds or puts ideas in people’s heads to fuel it. I am not getting a clear answer. I just get a sense he doesn’t care. 

Okay, this was a wild ride. It may take some time for me to get to TXT’s one. I do want to do them next, because I want to see if their answers align, being in a similar company environment.

[thoughtsofatransboy]

I hope you know you're really worth it.

Hello fellas!! Are you guys doing well? Sleeping and eating? I hope yes! I'm happy to be back writing by my own will, not just for full fill requests (something my little burnout brain can't do perfectly) There's another MCR fanfic, since this fellas are the reason I smile everyday 👾

Warnings: This fic contains pet names such as: angel, sweetheart, darling and pretty thing; multiartist!reader, sex, gn!reader, implicit afab!reader (I'll try my best to not describe genitals), kind of dom!Frank Iero, grammar mistakes cuz my English sucks. Some angst and a scar (implicit SH) mention. If any of this things can make you feel uncomfortable, feel free to leave and maybe read something else from my blog

1st of August, another month, another week, another day. Honestly, your life's being a stupid watercolor blur, the hours and the moments and the pain just mix with your emptiness.

You've been feeling real down, a horrible self-esteem and lack of creativity. Basically, you're experiencing a severe burnout. Being an artist, you know how much the quality of your creations tends to decrease when you're going through something like this.

But... in the middle of your chaotic situation, you have someone who can always make you laugh, flush, giggle, smile and have pleasure. Your beloved one, Frank Iero. Which you call as "Frankie"... You can't understand how you got so lucky in your life to have someone as sweet as him to love and take care of you.

Well, as sweet and adorable as it looks like, you've been having struggles with him too. Not because of his actions, but because of your fear of losing him. Anytime you went to a walk with him, and you see him looking to someone, you couldn't help but feel insecure, afraid that he might be desiring them.

You know it's just some paranoia and he would never do something like this to you, at least is what your rational part wants you to believe.

8 p.m, you're laid down on your sofa, with a small blanket covering your legs. You're waiting for Frank to arrive home. You're looking around your living room, trying to distract yourself from the scars on your arm, they really aren't helping your self-esteem. You notice that your cat is there, she seems happy, meowing around and chasing a little fly. God... How much you wish you were happy like a cat.

You couldn't do anything but feel overwhelmed with your pain. Your work, art, family, your partner, yourself. Before you could notice, you're collapsing into tears, and so focused in your crying, you don't listen to the key turning in the door. Frank arrived, but instead of a happy partner, he finds you crying and hopelessly on the couch.

"Sweetheart! Are you ok?" Frank said, no taking too long to go towards the couch and hug you. "Shh... shh... it's ok... I'm here, it will be fine.." Honestly that's all you needed. You let yourself focus on the moment, while he strokes your hair gently. After some minutes in completely silence, he decides to ask. "What happened angel? Why were you crying?" You really want to answer him, but all you could say was "Frankie, am I worth your love?"

Frank was surprised, there wasn't many questions in this world that would make him feel so sad as he was now. He wasn't showing his partner enough love? How could he be so fool to let his own partner think something like this?

"Oh sweetheart... you are the prettiest person I ever met in my whole life. Of course you're worth it" You finally could feel yourself calming down a little, In the heat of the moment, he kisses you on the lips, sweet but really sloppy.

What was supposed to be an innocent little kiss turns into a make out session, with some naughty hands and pleasure moans. Your tears couldn't even be noticed anymore, they're drying more and more as Frank caress your face with so much caring and love.

Your senses are filled by his scent, your body sensitive to his hands caressing through your favorite spots. He breaks the kiss, not gasping for air, but on the way to kiss and suck at your neck.

His kisses send shivers down your spine and his hickeys makes you feel something else down there. He seems more desperate than you, alternating between kissing you mouth and your neck.

Noticing that you're aroused, Frank finally decides to act, passing his hands through your body, until he arrives your waistband, lowering your pajama pants down. Getting on top of you, he starts grinding against your crotch in anticipation.

"Darling, I wish I could give you my eyes... My ears... My thoughts, so you could understand that everything you do is incredible, so you could see yourself the way I see you" His soft words making the perfect contrast with his hands lowering your underwear in a quick movement, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

"Frankie, I love you so much" he smiled to you. He starts to undo his belt, getting rid of his pants and underwear, not bothering in looking where he threw it at. Oh, how could you hold yourself when he is stroking his cock while looking in your eyes? You left out a desperate whine. "Please! C'mon Frankie!"

Who he is to deny you your pleasure? He aligned himself to your entrance, before pushing in slowly and delicate, making you let out sweet moans and some curses. You and Frankie mostly fuck, but not today, today he was making love to you, passionate and pleasuring love.

His thrusts delicate but deep, a sensual pace that made him be able to touch all your sweet spots. Your hole clenching around him, your bodies so connected and heated, his sweating face, your moans, his whines. All of this was too much for you, you couldn't help but let it out go, cumming without advise.

"Hell yeah! Pretty thing... so beautiful when you cum" his attention suddenly goes to your neck, once again he decided to use all his effort to mark your neck. Despite he never stops the rhythm of his thrusts while he goes to your neck, his legs are shaking a little, his moans are getting louder. A sign that he's going to cum very soon.

After some minutes, he couldn't help anymore, cumming inside of you. Collapsing over the couch, next to you. "Hey sweetheart... I hope you know you're really worth it" with a small giggle, you let yourself fall asleep slowly next to your love. Maybe you still going to have troubles to create and maybe you still feel a little sad... But at least you have the sweetest lover in the world, right there for you.

[0aurelion-sol0]

My Arcane Season 2 criticisms:

Things I actually disliked:

How the Hextech plot turned out, I though it was very badly executed especially in terms of Viktor's evolution through the whole show. Lack of proper explanation about what was actually happening, unnecessary and horribly executed twist at the end, clumsy established rules and dissapointing payoff for anyone involved in this plotline. Final battle was cool and I like the Commune's designs but dear god, was this storyline confusing...

Ekko's community plus the tree's state at the end of the show. You really couldn't put a 15 seconds shot of the community being well and tree being ok ?! Seriously I know you had to make choices given it's animation but come on now... It was like one of the main driving points to stop Hextech for him & one of the safe haven of Zaun & Piltover and it's completely shoved to the side but no, we have to see minutes of Loris, Steb and Sky being there just being a representation of our characters' inner conflicts as if them doing it and/or saying it out loud wasn't enough...

Ekko convincing Jinx to not kill herself by telling her what he experienced, Jinx rallying the undercity to protect Piltover & Zaun from Noxus & Viktor and a proper conclusion to Sevika's story regarding all of this. WHAT THE HELL ?! We needed to see this, this is so important & it's completely ignored. IN WHAT world, did anyone think cutting this was a good idea ?! We needed to get a proper closure & development about Ekko & Jinx's relationship which was already thin to begin with. We needed to see Sevika affirm what she truly thought about Jinx and a moment about Isha regarding the two of them even if Sevika wasn't super close to the kid, we needed to see Sevika get to see the Undercity finally rallied together after spending the ENTIRETY of the show trying to do that and see how that whole thing came about for them to fight with Piltover. It is ridiculous to that me that this was cut... It was so important!

Things I didn't necessarily dislike but I have mixed feelings about:

Jayce not getting a single scene with his mom. I know she was there at the end, in the crowd, mourning him but come on, not even one scene with her before the end where she could allow him a form of reflection and comfort before putting his life in danger or after, I don't know... DISSAPEARING FOR WEEKS IF NOT MONTHS! I know you could interpret it as Jayce being so lost on his mission that he forgets about her and her importance but she was one of the reasons they ended up in Piltover in the first place. It's of course not as vital to the story but it could have provided some breathing in this fast-paced season.

Vi's character arc this season. While there are some part that I like, I feel like it wasn't explored as deeply & as fully as it could have been. The foundations are there but aspects like her relationship with Vander, violence and Zaun could have been pushed far more than they were in this season.

Caitlyn's arc and how the most important bit happened off-screen, again, just like with Vi, the parts it would have been better to see or being more developped weren't as much as they could've been. I am not of the conclusion she didn't face any consequences or was let go by the narrative of the things she did, but her coming to terms with her actions happened mostly off-screen and that is a shame because it was one of the more interesting parts of Season 2.

Singed's characterization. Now I understand why he was developed the way he is, in terms of what he represents for Caitlyn and for the show, but I don't think it was as compelling to me to have him be yet another parallel for the themes of the show or being a reminder of them was completely necessary for me. We got it the other times, I understand why, it had it's purpose; I just prefer how evil Singed was in the original lore & the story he had back then. I understand humanizing antagonists & reinforcing the theme of your story but sometimes it's nice having an element that's a bit of an outlier and explore other themes to give some variety to the story.

[changbinsboobs]

haii can you do skz ideal types? like physique and personality. thank youu

Hi:) since i want to do those readings properly im gonna do them one by one and since i already have some for individual members i'll use this ask to start with chan:)

So, i originally started doing an Ideal Type reading but it got hijacked😅 so i guess im reading on his current energy. I'll try to still add something about his ideal type if i manage getting past the bitter energy but i think ill have to redo it some other time since i believe his opinion would be very influenced by his current feelings right now.

Take it with a grain of salt!!!

Chan's current energy / Ideal Typ

For his physical type i got pretty weird cards ngl, 3 of them are the tower, 5 of cups and 5 of wands, the 4th one's queen of pentacles. Tbh i didn't really get any hints about anything physical. He seems angry and bitter.

I think this reading is gonna be hijacked by something else he wants to talk about. I sense he has had a bitter experience thats still fresh in his mind, i think he got dumped tbh!

Like im seeing a situation with lots of bickering. Ogmg ok wait i have so much to say about it this situation has so many layers!

He feels like he lost something great and regrets his stupid actions.

At the same time tho he thinks its that persons fault and if they were better he wouldn't have acted in a way that would get him dumped.

But then again he feels like he's at fault and regrets it a lot.

But he's also so angry cuz they kept having fights, and she kept exhausting him and he kept not being enough. He feels horrible when he's not enough! He doesn't want to feel like that. He wants to live up to her expectations, to peoples expectations. But he just couldn't in this situation with that person.

It seems like he actually got himself a high quality girl - the he couldn't keep obviously. And he's in so much distress with all his conflicting feelings and thoughts. Im sry but im getting a bit angry at him here🙄 its that male stupidity with lack of accountability whatsoever! You cant expect to give the bare minimum, to be an excuse of a "man" and except to get all the perks real man and masculinity gets you! Deal with the consequences bro🙄 -> not necessarily meaning him, im just seeing the picture from his view, so idk how "horrible" he actually was, i was rather talking about the general population of useless men that just have the audacity to expect the best when they themselves aren't worthy of it and then get mad when they can't keep it.

Anyways back to chan - im also getting mommy's boy vibes here omg its getting worse😩😭 i feel like with this situation he's like "forget her bro, she's not worth it. Your mom used to cook and clean, and take care of 3 children and do everything by herself and she didn't whine and was always so giving. I want a woman like that! This girl wasn't lie my mother - she's not worth it, get over her and stop feeling guilty." Don't take that monologue word for word i was rather training to paint the feeling behind his thoughts.

So yeah we have that...tbh i didn't expect him to have a reaction like that like with the comparison to his mom. The rest i expected, but this? Damn🥲

Also this whole situation seems very dramatic, but what I've noticed in the male population overall is that they tend to blow things way put of proportion, and so knowing chan and his tendencies for a victim-complex, pick me, delulu and stuff - im pretty sure this situation might've been not dramatic at all. Just 2-3 little discussions (not full blown arguments and fights as he depicts it) or even just opposing opinions, where he just felt attacked in some way just by her disagreeing or something...and then after a few dates or weeks of dating she politely told him she doesn't want to see him anymore cuz they don't see compatiable and he broke down.

Again idk how things are for real cuz i haven read the other girls energy nor have i read just the energy itself, im just reading HIS energy and perception, but it feels really needy and excagerated so thats whats leading me to believe that it might not be nearly as bad.

So i managed to get some cards on his ideal types personality only and i got those: 3 of cups, 6 of pentacles, page of cups & king of wands.

His types a younger, more innocent and inexperienced girl he can take care of and teach and lead.

She likes a girl that's social but shy. Someone he can take with when meeting his friends and show of. But as i said - social enough for him to be able to do that - but but also shy so he stays sure that theres no risk of her "going wild" (goddamn bro u forreal?🫠)

Im actually getting something about physical appearance - slender, middle hight, like just a bit shorter than him, prefferably forreign with lighter skin and ginger or light brown or dark blonde hair. Im also seeing big head? Like yk this type of body with very slender narrow shoulders, long lanky arms and legs, but a bigger head where it also seems disproportionate to the body? Its so specific i almost think thats what his last girl looked like.

And he also wants a girl thats submissive and will see up to him and make him feel like a boss or a king or a ...daddy (🤢 im sry i just cant hold in the cringe)

In conclusion - i think this ideal type i got from the cards isn't his true ideal type but rather something that came out of spite. Like if i had to guess he's describing the girl he lost, but without her empowering qualities so that he doesn't get hurt.

Judging on the energy of this reading and previous ones ive done i think he has had a think for strong dominant women because he's fascinated with inner strength and power and always wanted to conquer a woman like that because in his head it meant he has that amount of power and strength the said woman had and even more - since he has managed to tame and conquer her. Now that he's tried tho he got met with the cold reality and got a slap in the face realizing he might not be fit for the task just yet and is just sour about it😃

As weird and unexpected this reading was i really enjoyed it cuz it was really shocking to me actually and even gave me a bit of a slap in the face, reminding me how he's just a man...and that he apparently does stupid things like any other guy too.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode (backstory)

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.7 K Warnings: none Prompt: Of the unopened letters and your first day at Hogwarts. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Rainy days and Mondays

July 10th, 1974

Dear Sirius, 

My mom gave me your address. She feels really bad about the whole situation, but that does not justify her actions. She and Dad were awful by keeping their mouths shut, awful, and I’m terribly sorry about it. If only they’d said something, maybe then they would’ve changed the outcome of the situation. 

I tried asking her to write a letter to your parents, with the truth behind the trip, you know, that it was MY IDEA, but she refused to do it. I’m sorry I can’t do anything to help you avoid the wrath of your parents. Our families are a bunch of cowards. 

Thanks for the necklace, It’s beautiful. I put it on when I got home, it’s got a strange weight to it, but I like it, it reminds me of you. I’m writing a copy of the instructions of you know what on a letter and I’ll send it to you once we’re back in school. I’m really upset our trip was cut short. It would’ve been nice to stay in the moment a bit longer. Anyway, I really wish you’re well. Hope to hear from you soon. 

Love,

(Y/N)

July 15th, 1974

Dear Sirius, 

I hope my letter finds you alright. I’m writing again since perhaps my last letter got lost in flight, my owl Reese can be very clumsy sometimes.

 I just wanted to apologize for everything that happened. I’m sorry for having the idea to go to Xplore (not for what happened inside the park, but yes what happened after), I’m sorry your parents found out, and I’m sorry we trusted Regulus to have our backs. I’m sorry my parents were cowards and didn’t back me up when I said the truth. And I’m really sorry for whatever your parents do to you. 

It was really fun spending our break together. I get the chances of it ever happening again are zero, but it’s nice thinking we got to meet. 

Also, I wanted to thank you for the necklace. I've been wearing it every day since I returned home, I really enjoy having it around my neck, it reminds me of our adventure. 

Hope to hear back from you soon, 

(Y/N)

July 25th, 1974

Dear Sirius Black, 

I’d like to be able to assume my letter was lost in the mail again, but since the lack of response from the previous two, I can only imagine you have decided to ignore my letters. 

Which, to be honest, I don’t understand. YOU were the one that decided to take the blame for yourself. If you HAD backed me up, and told your parents it had been me, then you wouldn’t have gotten in so much trouble. 

Last night I received a letter from Regulus, I did not care to read it and threw it straight to the fire. I do not want to hear his apologies, mom told me it was him that spilled the soup. Traitor, like you’d call Slytherins in the past. I guess once a snake, always a snake.  

I don’t want to sound like I’m begging, but please talk to me, if anything just tell me you’re alright. I just want to know you’re ok. 

(Y/N)

August 3rd, 1974

Sirius, 

This is the last letter I write. I’m sorry for bothering you with my insistence, I will not write any more letters. I’m sorry we met, and I’m sorry I caused you so much pain that you decided to completely cut me out of your life, or whatever, I don’t even know what happened. 

I really thought we could stay friends, even after everything that happened. But I guess we can’t always get what we hope for. Either way, a promise is a promise, and I will send you the instructions for you know what once we’re back in school. I don’t want your parents to accidentally find them by opening your mail. 

I really hope you’re alright. 

Goodbye Sirius, 

(Y/N)

After writing that letter you cried like a baby and considered burning it instead of sending it several times. But you knew writing more letters was useless –and that it would be worse if you went on without any closure– still waiting for an answer from him that you would never receive. So you tied the letter to Reese and sent him off. Once the school year started, and after you made a copy for yourself, you bent the old piece of parchment and put it inside an envelope alongside a note. 

August 14th, 1974

Sirius Black  Dear James Potter,

This is something I promised to give Sirius. He is currently very angry at me and will ignore all my attempts to contact him. But this contains something that will be very useful for him, I know he really wanted it. So I appeal to you instead, his best friend, to knock some sense into him. 

Please receive this letter and give him the parchment. He’ll recognize it. If you must, lie to him, tell him you found it in a restricted area of the school library or whatever (Hogwarts has one of those too, right?). 

Yours truly,

Someone who disappointed your best friend. -and was disappointed by him too.

You closed the envelope, waving your wand with a small spell to make sure it was properly sealed and wrote in thick black ink:

TO: James Potter

Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

2 years later

September 1976

You walked to Kings Cross with your cart in between your hands. Your dad had left you just outside the station. The idea of moving to a new country had been fascinating in theory, but once you arrived there, alone and with no one to talk to, you’d felt incredibly lonely. 

Your mom told you about your dad getting the position in the British ministry on your last day of school, you didn’t even have enough time to say goodbye to all of your friends before going back home to find all your stuff had already been neatly packed in boxes. 

Just two days after that you were in London, lonely as ever. You spend your entire break exploring the muggle part of the city. The muggle museums were pretty interesting, but you felt alone non the less. You kept in touch with your friends through owl mail but it wasn’t the same as being able to actually hang out with someone. 

In the middle of the summer break, your mom took you to Diagon Alley, and nothing made you feel more isolated than Hogwarts students hugging their peers as they saw each other for the first time in a while. The only thing that somewhat cheered you up was the stunning Dark Nimbus your dad had bought as an apology for making the move so sudden. They did care about you, a lot, they just had different priorities than yours.

As you walked through the large corridors of the station you spotted a couple of younger kids walking beside their mother, while carrying trunks similar to your own, one of them had a huge cage with an owl in it, which was a dead giveaway that they were actually wizards, even in their attempts at a muggle outfits.  

You discreetly followed behind them and saw them walk in right through a wall in between platforms nine and ten. You imitated them shortly after and found yourself in a very wizarding-looking space. A huge scarlet train with the words “Hogwarts Express” painted gold on its side pumped smoke through its chimney. As you stared at it, someone bumped against you from behind and pushed you forward a bit. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, turning towards you apologetically “I didn’t see you there.” 

You looked at the boy, he was tall and lean and had a fair share of scars all over his body. Made you think of a pirate from those spicy romance novels your mom had on her bookshelves.

“No problem,” You answered honestly. 

He then gave you a strange look, he was wondering whether he’d seen you before and was about to ask you about it when a girl called for him from the far distance “Remus! We’ve got to go, we gotta care for the first years!”. 

“Coming!” He shouted back at her and turned to look at you one last time before giving you an apologetic smile and leaving. 

You stared at him for a minute, Remus, the girl said. The name was oddly familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint why. Perhaps it was the name of a book character you read a while ago or something. 

Then you continued to push your bags to the baggage administration system, keeping with you only a small trunk with your uniform. 

As you walked inside the train you realised most of the carts were full, and sighted when you realised how awkward it would be to invade some already-made friend group by showing up uninvited, even if the curiosity of meeting the new kid was in your favour. 

You decided to open one of the doors where you’d seen kids that looked about your age walk in earlier but regretted it the moment the door was fully opened. 

Most of them had given you scornful looks. Especially an unhinged-looking boy, but that wasn’t even the worst part. Right there, in the middle of all of them was Regulus Black. The traitor, Regulus Black. 

He stood up the moment he saw you, letting some candy fall from his lap as he stared at you in disbelief. “What are you…? How–“ 

You took a deep breath and decided the world had been a better place when you didn’t even remember his existence. So you simply closed the door and left to find a different place. 

As you continued walking through the train you saw many groups of people hanging out in the different sections of it. Laughing students that talked to their friends, a small little brunette girl, who must have been a first year since she was crying about missing his parents while another girl, that looked just like her but older, comforted her. There was no one else in their cart so you gently knocked on the door. 

The two girls turned towards you and the smallest quickly wiped the tears from her face. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” you said as you closed the door behind you “I’m trying to disappear before someone I really don’t want to see finds me.” You sat down in front of them “I cried too when my parents first put me on a carriage to school.”

“I wasn’t crying,” the little girl said defensively. 

“A carriage?” Asked the older girl, clearly curious now that she started paying attention to you “You weren’t at Hogwarts,” she said as she took your appearance in.

You denied with your head “I’m a transfer student, this will be my first year here,” you said and then turned to the smaller girl “like yours.”

“Does that mean she doesn’t have a house?” The smallest girl asked as she looked up at her sister “But she’s old.”

“Old?” You asked, diverted.

The little girl covered her mouth “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s all right, I was just teasing. But I’m not that old either. Only 16.”

“Oh, like Marlene,” she said pointing at her sister “maybe your guys will end up taking classes together.”

“Year 6?” Marlene asked you.

You nodded and held your hand towards her “ (Y/N)(Y/LN).”

“Marlene McKinnon,” she said while shaking your hands, she was strong and had slightly rough palms, which indicated she flew a lot “And this rude little girl is my baby sis, Margo.”

“Nice to meet you.” You said with a smile.

“I’m not rude,” mumbled Margo as she crossed her arms and started munching on some candy Marlene had handed over to her. 

“You fly a lot?” You asked, when she looked puzzled you showed her your palms “I felt the broom marks when we shook hands, I have them too.”

She smiled and nodded, “I’m on my house’s quidditch team, I’m the best beater they have,” she said with a smile and then whispered, “Just don’t let the other guy know.”

At that, the two of you laughed, at that moment you figured perhaps life at Hogwarts wouldn’t be so bad, as long as you got to meet more people like Marlene. You talked about quidditch for most of the trip back, she told you about the new broom her parents had bought her last year and you told her about your new Dark Nimbus, which she made you promise you’ll let her take a ride on. Margo seemed rather bored with your conversation and grabbed a book from her backpack, something about care for magical creatures. 

Once the train was close to the destination a tall brunette boy knocked on your doors “Are you (Y/N)(Y/LN)?” You nodded to answer and he smiled “Great! My name is Alexander Wood, Head Boy in Hufflepuff, I was asked by Professor McGonagall to escort you to Dumbledore’s office as soon as the train arrived.”

“Oh, all right,” you said as you stood up and grabbed your small trunk, “Hope to see you around,” you said to Marlene with a quick wave before following behind Alexander. 

“You can call me Alex,” he said as he continued walking towards the doors “Professor McGonagall said it was immensely important you arrived before everyone else, apparently they want to get you sorted before the feast,” he explained. 

“Sorted?” You asked confused.

“Into your Hogwarts house,” he explained “There’s four of them, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor-“

“-and Slytherin.” You concluded. 

“Yes! Exactly!” he said without noticing the bitter tone which you had used to say the latter “you’ve done your research.”

“More like I met someone once,” you said as you continued to follow him. “There’s a sorting cap, right?”

“Sorting hat,” he corrected. “Don’t dare call him a cap, or he’ll be offended.”

“The hat?! He’s sentient…”

“Very much so,” he said with a nod “and very touchy too.”

“How do you know in which house he’ll sort you?”

“You don’t,” he said as the two of you stood next to the doors “Sometimes you get sorted the same way as your parents, kind of like a family line sort of thing, other times, like in my case, your family gets sorted into all different kinds of houses, my mom’s a Gryffindor, dad’s a Ravenclaw and my sister was a Slytherin. But then again, your parents didn’t attend Hogwarts, did they?”

You responded by shaking your head “Mom studied in Ilvermorny, Dad in Beauxbatons.”

He nodded, and then the train came to a halt, you grabbed the railing to stop yourself from crashing against him and then the door opened swiftly right in front of you. He quickly got down and motioned for you to follow. On the train, everyone else was starting to grab their things to prepare to get off. You followed behind him towards a couple of carriages without any horses. 

You got in and then started to move towards the castle at a relatively fast pace. "Do you normally take new students to the director's office?" You asked Alex.

He shook his head "We don’t get many new students unless they’re first years, and their sorting is public."

"Why won’t mine be?" You asked, genuinely curious. 

"Haven’t a clue," he said honestly and pulled a transparent bag from his robe "You want some?" He asked as he offered the bag to you.

"Are those Fizzing Whizbees?" You asked as you grabbed one of them, he nodded "They’re my favourites!"

"Mine too!" He said with a smile before popping one into his mouth. 

Soon enough the two of you were already entering the huge castle. As you looked around he drove you towards the famous moving staircases. You had heard of them in some of your history classes, but you never expected you’d see them in person, they were as magnificent as the books described. 

"Come on, they won’t wait for you to stop admiring them before they change," he said motioning for you to follow, "you’ll have plenty of time to look at them later on." 

You nodded and followed right behind him. Soon enough you were just outside of an office, a giant golden eagle stood there. A very elegant-looking lady in a green gown walked from the hall towards you "Thank you very much, Alex, for bringing (Y/N) here, I’ll take it from here, you should go to the banquet, help the first years that get sorted into your house." Alex nodded and left, then the lady turned towards you "My name is Minerva McGonagall," you said, you were surprised, up until then you had thought the professor McGonagall they kept referring to was a man. "Follow me please."

You nodded and followed her, as she stood right in front of the eagle it started twirling and unveiling a set of stairs. The two of you walked up the staircase and you found yourselves in front of a large office, filled with magical gadgets, and astronomy tools. An old wizard with a very large white beard stood in the centre "This must be (Y/N)," he said. 

"Nice to meet you, sir," you said to the old man. 

He smiled kindly "My name is Albus Dumbledore, you may call me Professor Dumbledore, I am the director of Hogwarts." You nodded in response "We brought you here to sort you, after talking about it we decided it would be a lot easier to sort you here instead of the banquet hall, we thought you could perhaps feel uncomfortable being the only 16-year-old student being sorted along the first years."

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," you responded. 

"And we also wanted you to have enough time to get your uniforms ready before walking to your classes tomorrow." Then he motioned for you to sit on a chair in the middle of the room. Professor McGonagall picked a hat from a pillow and placed it over your head.

"Interesting…" you heard the hat speak, in a rather low tone. Your breath hitched "You’re old to be sorted… it won’t be easy to decide where you’ll fit in best."

"It’s… speaking to me…" you said as you looked at McGonagall. 

"It does that often, just let him ramble."

You took a deep breath and continued to listen "ambitious, clever, brave." He said "Many qualities from many houses in one person…" 

"Ambitious no…" you whispered back "Not cunning, not a traitor."

"You’ve got preferences," He responded to your words "You don’t want to be a Slytherin."

"I’m no snake." You responded. 

"Slytherin are not all traitors, besides, other houses can harbour them too."

"I… I don’t want to see him every day." You admitted, thinking of Regulus. 

"There might be things you don’t know about him… or the other boy."

"I just–" you started.

"–Gryffindor!" The hat roared before you even had time to elaborate. 

Professor McGonagall smiled as Dumbledore told her "She’s one of yours."

She walked towards you, took the hat off your head and set it on the pillow again "I had a good feeling about you," she said with a smile. 

"Nimbletwist," called the old man, soon enough a house elf appeared, "Please take (Y/N)’s robes to the laundry elves, that way they’ll have her house colours before her classes in the morning." The house elf nodded. 

"Please follow us," said McGonagall as they guided you out of the office and towards the great hall. In the middle of the way, the same boy you’d seen on the platform walked towards her. 

"I was told you were looking for me or Lily, she stayed with the first years, and sent me here."

She nodded "This is (Y/N), she’s new, the hat just sorted her in Gryffindor, and she’s in your year. I was hoping you could introduce her to your classmates and keep her out of trouble until the end of the day." The last remark seemed to be directed towards him specifically. 

Remus, as you remembered, just gave her a flashy smile and nodded "I’m always out of trouble." He responded before turning towards you and offering his hand "Remus Lupin, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you." You shook his hand and smiled back. McGonagall and Dumbledore were gone in an instant, and you were left alone with yet a new Hogwarts student. 

"I saw you at the station."

"You ran into me at the station," you corrected teasingly. 

"You’re right," he said with an apologetic smile "I wasn’t looking where I was going."

"It’s ok, I can tell you’ve got very many responsibilities around here."

"I’m a prefect, that’s why I’ve been so busy today," He explained and changed the subject "I didn’t see you on the train."

"I stayed in a cart most of the way there, met a girl called Marlene, she’s lovely."

"You met Marlene?" He asked, surprised. "She’s also in Gryffindor."

“Our year too, right?” He nodded in response. “Where are we going?” You asked as you walked alongside him. 

“Great hall, I just need to meet with some of my friends first.” You nodded and followed him all the way to a hallway, two boys waited there for him. 

“Moony!” Said the tallest of the two as soon as he saw Remus, he was wearing a pair of round spectacles and had relatively long messy hair “Took you long enough.”

“And you brought company,” said the blond boy, he’d been the first one of the two to notice you. 

“Yeah, guys this is (Y/N), she just transferred here, McGonagall asked me to take her to the great hall and introduce her to everyone.”

You waved awkwardly from behind Remus and the shorter boy walked towards you “Peter Pettigrew, nice to meet you.”

“(Y/N) (Y/LN),” you responded with a smile as he shook your hand. 

“Hold up,” said Remus turning towards you “Your last name’s (Y/LN)? Same (Y/N) (Y/LN) Pads couldn’t shut up about on 5th year?” 

Pads? You wondered in your head as the only boy who hadn’t introduced himself spoke “She fits the description,” he said as he looked at you with curiosity “Hair, eyes, complexion, has to be her.”

“Do you by chance speak Spanish and French too?” Peter asked. 

Still slightly confused, you nodded. “It is her! Pas will go crazy when we tell him,” said Remus with a smile. 

“Right, I was forgetting,” said the boy with messy hair “I’m James Potter, nice to meet you,” he said with a flashy smile as he offered his hand for you to shake. 

You took his hand, and that’s when it downed you. These boys, they were all Sirius’ friends. “It’s nice to finally meet you, James,” you told him with a smile.

“Finally?” He asked, confused. 

You quickly remembered the letter you sent him hadn’t been signed with your name and decided perhaps it would be better to leave things as they were “Ah… Sirius told me a lot about you.”

“He’ll be thrilled when he sees you,” said Peter excitedly, to that you wondered which kind of thrilled? “That may not be today tho, if he’s in position.”

You shrugged “In position?”

James smiled mischievously and handed you a small umbrella “Can you take care of this for me? Until we see each other again?”

You grabbed the umbrella and nodded. He winked at you and turned to Remus who spoke to them “So, everything’s ready right?”

“Yes, Pads’ll do the heavy magic, we just need to make sure the lasting jinxes are not countered too fast,” responded James. 

“Fantastic!”

“Off to your prefect duties then,” Said Peter almost shoo-ing Remus “You have to be in position, too.”

Remus nodded and turned around to walk to the other side, turning back to you shortly “Come on,” he motioned for you to follow “I gotta introduce you to some more people,” he said with a smile.

When you arrived at the great hall it was almost already full of people. You saw Regulus staring at you from a table with kids all wearing green, he looked like he wanted to approach you but when Remus guided you to the Gryffindor table he sat back down “Hey everyone!” He said with a smile “This is (Y/N), she’s new.”

Marlene smiled and waved towards you “Here, sit with us.” She said as she and the red hair girl that had called Remus at the station both opened some space for you. 

“Mind taking care of her while I focus on some other prefect duties?” He said looking at the redhead. 

“Of course,” she said with a smile and turned towards you “Lily Evans,” she then pointed at a girl, “You’ve met Marlene, yeah?” She asked to which you nodded, “this is Mary,” she said pointing at a girl with the most beautiful curls you’d seen in your life. “That over there is Tom”, she said pointing at a boy with brown hair “And that’s Beth,” she said pointing at another redhead. She continued naming other students and then she started talking to you about the teachers, who all sat on a table right in front of the four tables with students that wore different coloured robes. 

“Do we always sit colour coded?” You asked as you stared at the other tables.

“Oh… yeah, we sit at our house’s table at meal times.”

“So houses don’t really mix?” 

“On classes we do.”

“But never on meal times?” She shook her head “So you only make friends in your house.”

“Not at all, I used to have a Slytherin friend, but sometimes the values of the people in their houses can become stronger than their original self.”

“I’m sorry,” you said when you noticed that the falling out had clearly hurt her. 

“Don’t be,” she said with a smile, slightly forced. “But you can make friends with other houses, it’s just a bit harder to get close to them.” She explained and then her face lit up with an idea, “You know, Remus and I, we started a study group last year, you could join us if you wanted to, that way you could meet more people.”

“That’d be lovely, thank you Lily,” you told her with a smile. 

By then the sorting ceremony had ended and Dumbledore stood up from his seat in the centre of the teacher’s table. 

“Hogwarts has always been a place of wonder, where magic comes alive and friendships are forged. Whether you are starting your magical journey,” he said glancing towards the first years “or returning to continue your studies, this is a place where dreams are nurtured and knowledge is expanded. We know we’re living in dark ages, the magical community is filled with hate and discrimination at the moment, but the school will not tolerate any instances of said hate or discrimination to be brought inside these walls. We are all witches and wizards, our precedence does not change that fact. We must remember the core values that make Hogwarts shine. Respect, compassion, and loyalty shall be the guiding principles that shape our interactions. We are a community, a single organism, and we must understand that an organism at war with itself is doomed.”

“Embrace the thrill of discovering new spells, uncovering ancient mysteries, and weaving your own story in the tapestry of magic, but remember to be kind, and loving towards your fellow classmates.” He paused and clapped his hands with a smile “May your time at Hogwarts be filled with magical moments, lifelong friendships, and unforgettable experiences. I have no doubt that each and every one of you holds within you great potential, waiting to be unlocked. Welcome to Hogwarts!”

At that moment plates started appearing right in the middle of all the tables and students started to indulge in them. It was truly a feast. “Is Muggle-born prejudice as bad in the UK as the media claims?” You asked Lily who cringed slightly. 

“Worse,” responded Mary instead “Some pure-blood kids’ parents are death eaters,” she explained “They follow in their parents' steps and spread hate among the school. Last year a muggle-born boy was tortured so badly he ended up in St. Mungo’s, they never discovered who had done it.” She explained. 

“We always make sure to walk in groups,” Marlene explained “That way no one's ever completely alone, you don’t want to become a target of their hate.”

“But she’s a (Y/LN)? Your family’s pure blood right?” Asked Beth from the other side “I read about the history of Pure Blood wizards for a project last year,” she explained when everyone gave her a look.

“Uhh.. yeah.” You said with an awkward smile, remembering how your parents had made such an effort to hide your non-wizarding great-grandmother origins from all the records. 

“Still, she’s new, we’re better off if we stick to each other.”

You nodded “You girls know best,” you said with a smile and looked around, you wondered what would happen when you eventually saw Sirius. Would he even want to speak to you? He ignored your letters so I’d seem he wouldn’t, and you had gotten over him, or you hope you had, it’d been over two years. 

By then you looked around. Wondering where Remus and the boys he’d introduced you to had gone too, maybe they were going to skip dinner together or something. And then you felt it, a small drop of water falling on top of your right hand as you were taking a bite of mashed potatoes. 

You stared at it for a second before looking up and feeling another one fall right on your cheek. On the ceiling, the clouds were quickly turning grey, and more droplets of rain started to fall. Eventually, you heard the rumbling of some far-away thunder and saw some of the clouds shine with lighting. In the span of a minute, rain started pouring. Some students got under the tables, others walked in panic towards the doors of the hall. 

You took out the umbrella James had given you and opened it, covering yourself and Lily under it. 

“Why do you have an umbrella?” She asked you,  suspicion evident on her face.

“I… came from Wales, before taking the Hogwarts Express,” you lied “You know how it’s always pouring there.”

She nodded and huddled closer to you, and the two of you both stood in front of the table as you saw the rest of the chaos ensue. Some teachers were trying to use a spell to avoid getting wet but it did not seem to be working. McGonagall was desperately trying to stop the rain while Dumbledore stood there with somewhat of a diverted smile. He stood up and with a wave of his wand said “Finite Incantatem.” The rain stopped, you pulled the umbrella down and shook it to get rid of the small droplets still coating it, but only minutes later it started pouring again, even stronger this time. 

Dumbledore seemed puzzled, but that satisfied smile wasn’t gone, almost as if he was proud of the elaborate spell his students had created. 

Lily looked around suspiciously “I knew they were up to something. That’s why James didn’t even try to sit with me on the train!”

“James Potter?” You asked.

“You’ve met him?” She asked, puzzled.

“Remus introduced me to him and Peter before bringing me here,” you explained.

“Did they look suspicious?” She asked.

“I… wouldn’t know.” You responded. While you were pretty sure it had been them who caused the ruckus you were going through at the moment, you didn’t know how close Lily was to them, and you didn’t want to give her more reasons to think it had been them, which she already did. Who knows? She could’ve been the kinda person who would tell a teacher. And you certainly did not need to add any more reasons for Sirius to intensify his animosity towards you any further. 

“Witches and Wizards, this marks the end of our feast, please retire to your dorms,” Dumbledore’s voice boomed through the hall when he placed his wand on his throat to amplify it. 

Seraphina Nightshade, who Lily had identified as the head of Hufflepuff, walked towards her table "Alex, find the other prefects and take the first years to their dorms."

Alex nodded and went off to tell the rest. "I have to go find the first years,” Lily told you urgently. You nodded and walked alongside her. 

Out of nowhere, Remus caught up with the two of you "Hey again," he said with that dashing smile of his. Lily gave him a look and continued calling the first years. Once outside of the great hall, you closed the umbrella, bending it back to its small state while Lily and Remus made sure all the first years were ready. The Gryffindor head boy, Teddy Hawthorn, had given the prefects the new password to enter their house common room and sent them all but Remus and Lily, who would take the first years, to find the rest of the Gryffindors. Lily was at the front, guiding everyone while Remus and you stayed at the back, making sure none of the new kids were left behind. 

"I get it this isn’t what normal dinners look like?" You said, motioning to the chaos all around you. 

He laughed, "Let’s say it’s a bit of a special one."

As the entire group approached the grand staircases, you spotted Marlene and Mary, who walked along a couple of stairs above you. They were soaked, like most people around you, leaving the stairs very wet behind them. 

"Mind your step," Lily told everyone from the top of her stairs "The stairs are quite slippery, we don’t want anyone to trip."

Just as she said that a small girl that walked just in front of you tripped, her ring falling back a couple of steps. Remus quickly held her up, but the moment she realised her ring was gone she panicked. "It’s a family heirloom!” She said distressed. 

"It’s ok, I’ll get it," you told her as you walked back to find it. 

"(Y/N) wait!” You heard Remus warn but it was too late, the stairs were already moving. Remus jumped before the gap between the stairs was too big but by the time Lily saw what was happening it was too late. It would be impossible for you and Remus to catch up with them unless the stairs aligned themselves again. 

"It’s ok," Remus shouted at Lily, who stood a couple of metres away "We’ll catch up with you in the tower.”

She nodded and motioned for the children to follow her, but the little girl was still distressed looking towards you. You finally found the ring between a crevice and showed it to her. She seemed relieved, you then made a small spell and the ring started levitating, sooner than later it was swiftly landing on her palm. 

"Thank you," she said before running behind Lily and the rest of the first years. 

"That was really nice,” Remus said as he saw the little girl go "and reckless, you could’ve gotten lost"

You turned towards him "and here I thought recklessness was a particular Gryffindor trait."

He laughed lightly as he shook his head "Come on, we should arrive at the dorm room before curfew."

You nodded and followed behind him to another set of stairs, eventually, you found yourselves in front of a dead end. The stairs had also changed on Remus’ planned path “damn it,” he whispered under his breath.

"Plan B is not gonna work, aye?" You asked, leaning against a wall. 

He exhaled, "You don’t seem particularly preoccupied by being lost and not getting to the common room on time."

 "I’m new, I got lost, they’re not gonna punish me."You shrugged “Besides, it’s not as if I had planned the entire prank that got us here in the first place," you said that last bit with a knowing smile. 

"Are you trying to imply something?”

"Me? Whatever could I be implying?" You responded innocently “So… what’s plan C?”

“There’s a way to get there. But you mustn’t tell anyone about it.” You nodded and he guided you through a door a couple of steps behind, then he turned towards you again “Would you allow me to blindfold you?” 

You raised your eyebrows at that, with a little smile on your face “Buy me dinner first?” 

“Not like that!” He responded, surprised. “We’re gonna take a shortcut, it’s a secret passage.” 

“Mm… and if I know where it is, it won’t be so much of a secret…” 

“So…?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Of course you’re not gonna blindfold me Remus!” You retorted “A girl’s gotta know how to sneak around the castle too.” He stared at you for a second, as if trying to decide whether to trust you with the location of his secret passage. “Hey, if it makes you feel better, I solemnly swear I’m telling no one about your passage.” That line convinced him on the spot, but you didn’t know it yet, so you kept talking, presenting your hand in front of him, with your smallest finger raised and an innocent smile “Pinky promise?” 

He laughed at that. “This isn’t the Japanese Mafia,” he nodded towards your finger. 

“Why? You wouldn’t want to cut it off?” You said as you raised your finger to look at it up close, then swiftly brought it back down and turned to look at him “Anyway… Am I gonna have to excuse myself for getting lost, or are we going to take your secret passage?”  

He smiled at that, he kind of started to understand why Sirius was absolutely obsessed with you when he came back from that summer in 5th year. “All right, let’s go.” You smiled at that and followed behind him. He took you all the way to the end of the hallway where a giant painting stood. Besides it, a shield with two swords crossed in the middle, like a coat of arms. 

“Sneaking about again, Mr. Lupin?” Asked the old wizard staring at us from the painting “And you bring company,” he added suggestively.

“Not today Oliver,” Remus complained as he pressed a button on the hilt of one of the swords, causing the shield to separate from the wall, opening a relatively small hole. 

“That’s the secret passage?” You asked, looking at the dark passageway that seemed to extend from the other side of the window-like hole. 

Remus nodded “Is either that or we go wait until the stairs decide to change for us.” 

“Fine then,” You said as you climbed through the wall and pulled your wand from your pocket, whispering “Lumos.” Remus was just behind you and once he was inside, the shield closed the hole in the wall. 

“So…” you said, scooting out of the way to let him take the lead “Which way to go?”

“It’s easy, we’ll have to go up some stairs tho,” he explained before he started walking, with his wand raised high to show you the way. He took a couple of lefts and then you went up a rather long spiral staircase. “We’re almost there,” he said. “We need to get out of this passage and take another one before we get there.” 

“Do I have to swear I won’t tell anyone again?” You teased, he gave you a look and then shook his head with a small smile forming on his lips. “Just wanted to make sure.” 

By then you had reached a dead end, he whispered something onto the wall and it moved, letting the two of you out. But just as you got out of the passage and onto the hall, you crashed into something. But there was nothing really there. Until there was. Somehow you had stepped on Jame’s cloak and it had slipped off of him and Peter. 

You were very surprised when you saw them appear out of nowhere until you noticed the cloak on the floor. Picking it up, giving it a look and handing it over to the two of them. James took it. “You’ve got an invisibility cloak?! Where did you get it? I’ve been trying to get my hands on one for ages, but the spells on them are rarely any good, I’ve never seen one as good as yours.” 

“Uh… it’s a family heirloom…” 

“Oh, you’re so lucky!” You said and then, you realised how the rain prank had lasted so long “It all makes sense now! That’s how you managed to counter Dumbledore’s spell. You were close to him! You used your cloak to hide from the people and did a close-range counter spell, Dumbledore’s magic didn’t even reach all the way to your spell caster.” 

“You told her it was US?!” Peter asked Remus, looking completely betrayed. 

“Remus? No! I assumed it was you when James’ umbrella became useful!” You told them, and then looked at Peter “You confirmed my theory now, tho.” 

James punched him lightly on the arm in reproach “Ouch.” Peter complained and rubbed his arm as Remus walked closer to you. 

“You cannot tell anyone about it,” he said seriously. 

“Why would I? It was a great prank! You could’ve added chaos by having toads raining too but I guess the spell would’ve been a bit more complicated.” 

“That would’ve actually been great!” Peter agreed, forgetting all together he had been the one to out them. 

Then you heard steps from the end of the hallway “Someone’s coming,” you warned.

“Quick, let’s get out of here.” Said James as he pulled a tapestry from the side and motioned for you to get in. 

Once deep in the small aisle, you decided to ask the question you’d been thinking about since Remus guided you through the first passage “So… How do you guys know so many ways to sneak about? Are you in some kind of secret club?” 

“We’re making a map, so we explore the castle a lot,” Peter said casually which earned him another punch, this time from Remus. 

“Might as well tell the new girl all of our secrets, right mate?” James complained.

“I guess I’m trustworthy like that.” You said with a smile, even if the dark passage wouldn’t really let any of them see “Besides, it was you who gave me the umbrella.” 

“Yeah James, you gave the girl the umbrella,” Peter retorted. 

“I was trying to be nice,” he explained, “she’s new.” 

“It’s ok, I won’t tell anyone, about your prank, or about the fact that I was sneaking about with the… What? Hogwarts gang of pranksters?” 

“That’s a terrible name for a gang,” Remus said. 

“Says the guy with MOONY as a nickname.” 

“I swear she’s been here for like 3 hours and she picked up on half the things we’ve done,” James said, pinching his nose. 

“Also Sirius mentioned his friends and he liked making pranks in the school at some point,” you said remembering how he’d told you about a particular prank a few days before you sneaked onto the zip line park “When we were on talking terms.” 

“On talking terms?” Asked Peter, but by then you had already arrived at the end of the hallway and Remus got ahead of him, shushing him before looking around and motioning for the three of you to follow behind. 

“Mystic whispers,” he said to the portrait of a fat lady who opened up to let the three of you into the Gryffindor common room. 

Regulus’ letter, 

Burned by (Y/N) without opening. 

July 23th, 1974 Dear (Y/N),  I know you may not want to hear a word from me, but beseech of you to do so, for it is imperative that you lend me your ear. First and foremost, it was never my intention for my progenitors to discover our clandestine affair. I had resolved to provide a cloak of secrecy to shield you and Sirius from their prying eyes. However, an owl arrived to my father, telling him his offspring had been seen in a witchcraft emporium within the city limits, it enraged him. With righteous indignation, my father directed his scrutiny towards me, inquiring as to your whereabouts. I resorted to our story, how you’d gone to a broomstick race with Sirius, as we had plotted. Yet, to my great chagrin, he had already acquired knowledge of the falsehood, detecting the mendacity inherent in my words. Compelled against my volition, I found myself partaking of a draught, undoubtedly Veritaserum, rendering me incapable of withholding the truth. At that moment, the weight of guilt settled upon my conscience, eclipsing any previous instances of remorse in my life. Providentially, I managed to refrain from implicating your involvement, particularly as the collective assumption posited the culpability of dear Sirius.  Despite your impassioned plea, reverberating across the wooden deck, beseeching their cognizance of your agency, I, alas, found myself bereft of the fortitude to voice your pivotal role. The notion of subjecting you, dear (Y/N), to the punitive machinations my progenitors habitually employ proved an insurmountable ordeal. I could not bear the prospect of witnessing my parents inflict their customary retributions upon your personage. I know their punishments. I do not want you to know them too.  Perchance I observed my mother consigning some of your letters to Sirius to the scorching fire, ensuring that he refrained from indulging in the forbidden act of writing you back. They harbour an unwavering resolve to preclude him from "exerting undue influence" upon your vulnerable disposition. "For as long as you dwell within this house, the act of inscribing correspondence to her shall be verboten," Mother uttered with resolute conviction. Devoid of alternative recourse, Sirius succumbed, he was forced, a spell was cast on him. Ah, Mother, she can be wicked if you do not abide by her volition.   I beseech your clemency, dear (Y/N), for the manifold grievances that have befallen us. I fervently pray that you shall not harbour enmity towards Sirius and myself, for the prospect of such estrangement would be anathema to my very soul. I hope this letter finds you in good spirits and the finest of health. With utmost sincerity, Regulus Arcturus Black

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A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

so for a decent chunk of time now i have been thinking to myself that i need to like really enter the phase of my life where i read seriously for artistic purposes ie read as a writer, which i have kept putting off for various reasons including what taking that goal seriously requires admitting to myself, but this year is the year, i have decided, and am doing ok at this so far. one of the strands of this process is that i am trying to catch up on some of the holes in my reading by reading for example authors considered major that i have thus far totally ignored. the mental list of shoulds has been percolating for longer than i’ve been back into reading. all of this is a long way of saying that not without feeling weird about it i am currently for the first time reading a book by alice munro, who was revealed last year to have treated her daughter with monstrous callousness after being informed of her daughter’s sexual abuse at the hands of munro’s husband. this post is not about that or about my weird feelings (mostly not about those), i just think that with this information still so new and munro’s reputation still so huge it would be off to talk about her without mentioning it. for what it’s worth i’d avoided her since well before then because as i have expressed before i tend not to love short stories and nothing about the way people talked about her fiction made it seem like she would be the exception, except maybe for the fact that everyone in the world is crazy about her stuff.

anyway. so i went with hateship friendship courtship loveship marriage bc that seemed to be the famousest one. the first story i liked a lot and really really admired from a craft perspective. it’s structured like a perfect little music box and the plot is wacky but somehow step by step feels totally believable, so that by the end you feel like someone has played a trick on you but in a good way. i was like ah fuck i do get it. and also i was like, ah see but the thing about her quiet sparing prose style is that this story is actually incredibly plotty and intricately designed and full of action - quiet character based action but action nonetheless. this is a story where things actually happen, which is what a lot of stories lack. ok i have cracked the code! i am ready to read the rest of these stories and probably then not read her anymore because while she’s undeniably very good i simply do tend to prefer writers with different styles and preoccupations and that coupled with the situation makes me feel like i don’t need to prioritize diving in any deeper but perhaps my mind would change. either way ok. i get it. i get the munro thing.

however! then the next several stories were exactly the kind of boring “well observed” nothingburgers i usually harbor such distaste for. and i could still see that she was in many ways better at doing this kind of thing than a lot of people. (her characters feel distinct from one another, which, you know? they don’t always. and her ear is not bad. i would not say i enjoy the way she uses language but her ear is not bad.) and there was the occasional detail i appreciated. but overall it just did not add up to enough for me to give a shit. i didn’t get to the end and think “ah, a magic trick” or “wow, real life.” i didn’t have any feelings at all and was also pretty bored. and actually i have started to kind of suspect that maybe i have more strongly negative feelings about certain traits in her writing than “don’t get it, not for me,” but i have to think about that a little more and maybe finish the collection before i can articulate that grievance. i mean she did win a nobel prize. for reasons of my own intellectual integrity i should read a whole book before i decide i think maybe she’s [redacted].

anyway. mostly i made this post because i decided to read or at least start her next story while treadmill strolling and i got as far as the bottom of the first page and read “in the countryside where i lived as a child, wells would go dry in the summer” and was like “fuck you.” and i wanna be clear that i know this is not a meaningful criticism and in fact possibly reflects poorly on my incurable city bitch blinders. i’m just sharing that i had such a strong aversion to you want me to read about fucking wells??????? that for the time being i simply could not bring myself to keep going although at some point i will because i am building readerly discipline. but. my god. 30 pages ahead of me of quiet spare unobtrusive (read: uninteresting) prose and you want to talk about fucking wells.

[loaffofbred]

ok, RAMBLE TIME! recently catched up to the realm smp and i have so much thoughts about how tr!foolish's death went. a lil note, proceeding to this post, all names that i will be discussing here is RP/characters (unless otherwise specified), therefore i wont be putting tr everytime just to keep it consistent

anyways, i will be mostly discussing foolish's reactions and actions and maybe even small theories or what if's i'd like to explore even further! this might get long and unorganized, so buckle up!

LOST YET SATISFIED

a fascinating thing about foolish that was revealed even further in his death is his passive nature of losing a life and losing to a game. as he's said multiple times, hes a gambler, and wouldn't be opposed to risk even it costs larger than what he'd gain. slowly throughout his thought process while talking to owen, you can hear his realization, and reveal his perceptions once he can tell owen was more defensive. once the whole thing was revealed, i couldn't help but notice that he just kept smiling. like, even losing was something he'd look forward to. he looked invigorated, and his voice sounded proud and excited. similarly said as some posts ive read say it, it was practically the embodiment of 'curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back'. but this felt familiar to me, a similar feeling of chaos and excitement; the feeling felt the same way as his past (dsmp & qsmp specifically).

i always thought foolish's strategy and approach had changed quite a bit from what he'd do in the past. he felt more, pacifist, even more open to emotion and connection. if anything, valued it as one of the main reasons for being king. to be the 'light' and the 'hope'. it was optimistic, a stray from his former chaotic neutral self. thats when i realized that that chaotic neutrality never left him, this shows that part of him still remains and controls his actions.

he was there to know what was behind green's plans and he did, but ultimately lost by going right into their trap. yet, he was happy and even gave credit where credit's due. if anything, excite him to his ultimate demise. he lost a gamble he knew the risk of, and even with that, his voice held no particular regret for taking the game. he wasn't afraid of losing, its all part of the game after all. deaths didn't feel as important to him compared to the past, and has even looked forward to seeing it from time to time. i love how foolish stays consistent with his reactions and intentions, and isnt even afraid of being a victim to his own gambling ways.

but what about his death?

DEATH AND CHANGE

something that every character seems to notice about foolish is his lack of reaction to death. pili and aimsey are the main ones who were curious and questioned foolish's reaction to death, and him being nonchalant over it. one of his main responses is an analogy, 'its as simple as opening a door'. he didnt have fear of death but curiousity, especially on the outcome of his death in the realm. he wasn't bothered and carelessly threw away his life for satisfaction, sacrifice, or glory. he almost seems complacent, as if respawning once more to the world is predictable. no changes, still himself.

but what if that doesn't happen?

what if there is a change? well, the primary changes that can happen is his memories or his demeanor entirely. consistently, everytime he loses all of his three lives, nothing has changed from him unlike the others. as an immortal being, maybe thats one of the perks of it. but! what if that changes? the most likely change that can happen is his memories, since (ooc)!foolish doesnt like to stray too far from his usual behavior. so what if he forgets? these are some of the scenarios and possibilities i can think of! assuming all his memories are lost altogether or significant parts of it are lost:

he doesnt know he's king but simply declares himself to be one once again, continuing the cycle!

loses memories of significant individuals like the yellow members, but remains open to repair and remember once again

memories are lost but not too much and he acts like he lost his memory of bad just out of spite! landduo smh

loses memories of who killed him, not knowing who owen is or their history

these are just speculations ofc, but i do like to think and hope that (ooc)!foolish plays with it a lil more in his character's future or current death. while i dont think he'll ever dabble on changing his demeanor or behavior for lore, here's possibilities:

being kind to bad (LMAOOOO i kinda wanna see this just to see bad's reaction)

being more violent to green, more spiteful to them, and neutral to his own members

qsmp/bolas behavior, values collective but much much more chaotic

backstabber! a similar vibe to foolish's federation arc

ill probably edit this if i got more to add but for now, thats all ill ramble, hope my thoughts and small what ifs come true at a certain point ^^

[jp---v]

Part of me wishes that Midoriya never received One For All. As a disabled person, it always seemed like Quirks and the lack of Quirks were (in some ways) a metaphor for disability. The whole "Can someone be a Hero without a Quirk" just read as "Can I be Someone if I am disabled". And the answer was no. The answer was "You're useless, but I can fix you". I know that it would make so many arcs and part of the story either way more difficult or probably just impossible, but I wish that Midoriya stayed quirkless. He was built up as being incredibly smart and I wish we got to actually see that instead of. Big Punch. Big Kick. Fight Win. I wish that instead we saw him be resourceful and intelligent, I wish he was a bit more like Eraserhead or Nighteye, where they have weapons to help them fight. I wish we saw him fall behind physically and get support from teachers in the areas he was failing, see him go from just barely scraping by to succeeding because he has support, anything other than just handing over the cheat code to being a "Good Hero". I wish Midoriya's story was actually about if it's possible to become a hero without a quirk, and I wish the answer was yes.

Sorry for the big chunk of text, I've been thinking of this for. A while.

Ok, first thing first. Minor notes.

Paragraph breaks are your friend

You probably could've made your own post and more fully fleshed out your thoughts without having to worry about the ask character limit.

Now onto answering.

Yes. The series would've been completely different if One for All wasn't in play. Several arcs would have been impossible for Midoriya to participate in the Big Final Fight, and an action series where your protagonist can't join the fight, isn't set up for success.

But there are different avenues that could've been taken. A bigger focus on Underground heroics. Behind the scenes info gathering, undercover work, stake-outs, and all the dirty side of heroics people don't get to see. Eraserhead is an Underground hero himself, there's no way he couldn't have done with a quirkless Midoriya what he did with Shinsou and more, because he's his homeroom teacher. Weapons, tactics, Underground contacts. Then there's Midoriya getting to use his brain to design support gear and strategize his way around his opponents. Why set him up as this super analytically-minded person if it rarely comes into play? He's just another 'hit 'em till they stop fighting back' hero in the end.

But him losing One for All sucks too because he never even actually got to master it. The thing he's been trying to do since he got it. The series set this huge, important goal with easily trackable benchmarks(the percentages) and tosses it to the wayside, only for him to still fail at saving Tenko(because Tenko's been gone for years. A memory isn't a person).

On a wider scale, the series could've explored the themes of discrimination against quirkless people instead of brushing them away almost entirely. The fact that by the end of the series everyone was acting like quirkless discrimination never existed, and were instead focused on heteromorph discrimination, may have partially come from the fact that Bakugo is a 'fan favorite' gag me and Horikoshi didn't want to acknowledge him being the bigot he was pretty clearly shown to be early on. So it all got swept under the rug and "never happened." Because that would also require recognizing Midoriya's trauma, and the series has never once acknowledged it or taken Midoriya's pain seriously. Like honestly, Midoriya being so starved for human contact that he let's Uraraka call him Deku, even after explaining that it's an insult with years worth of weight behind it(and her still calling him that after he explained it), then making it his hero name? This terrible insult you've been called for pretty much your entire life, that's what you want to be known as for the rest of your life and beyond? And after Bakugo's alleged "apology" he switches to the overly-familiar Izuku, as if they're actually close friends and he still isn't violently screaming and insulting him like he has for years.

And as far as "support from the teachers" goes... UA actually sucks, just, as a school. He couldn't get support when he had more power in his pinky than most teachers have combined, even when he kept breaking that pinky. Eraserhead doesn't want 'students' to make into 'heroes' he's making paranoid little child soldiers. Despite having high grades, a 'saving people' mindset instead of wanting to be a hero for fame or money, which should put him pretty high on favorability compared to most of his classmates, but no, he's the Problem Child because he can't control his quirk. But does he ever get any actual help? Extra training? Quirk counseling? Nope! He gets thrown to the fucking wolves until Gran Torino sees what's happening and comes out of retirement to help this poor child no one else is helping. Crazy how Midoriya spent a couple of months at UA and his control never got any better, but just a week with someone actually training him and he can finally use OfA without hurting himself.

I forgot where I was going with this tbh.

Anyway... the story could've been completely different if Horikoshi acknowledged Midoriya's trauma, showed the effects of quirkless discrimination, and actually let the teachers teach in a series with the word 'Academia' in the name.

If Midoriya had had any kind of suppprt from anyone in his life, and was less hyperfocused on quirks specifically so he could think about support gear, then yes. He could've been a hero. Not the bright, shining spotlight kind of hero, but still a hero.