#gives you so much to talk about and analyze

[enhaflixer]

HARD HOURS - Enhypens reaction when you ask them a sexual question

cw: Explicit mentions, choking, spanking, spitting, dirty talk, shower sex, anything else? wc 8.2K TL: @ziiao @beariegyu @naurwayyyyy @ijustwannareadstuff20 @somuchdard @ddolleri @jinnibug AN: HEY YALL KINDA CRAZY BUT THIS WHAT IM BACK WITH, my fav was jungwons for surrrreeee but pls lemme know who's you liked the most in the comments! this is the post to this ask!

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠

Heeseung was sprawled out on the couch, completely locked into his game, fingers tapping furiously at the controller as the sounds of gunfire and explosions filled the room. His brows were furrowed, his jaw set in focus. You could tell by the way his leg bounced slightly that he was fully immersed—until you sat beside him and nudged his thigh.

“Hee?” you murmured sweetly.

“Mm-hmm,” he responded absently, eyes never leaving the screen.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, babe. Just give me a sec,” he murmured, dodging an in-game attack and letting out a satisfied laugh when his opponent went down.

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “It’s a deep question.”

“Okay,” he said, distracted, “Gimme one more—” He froze as soon as the words fully registered. His head turned slowly, one brow arching in mild suspicion. “Wait. What?”

“It’s a philosophical question,” you continued, fighting back a smile.

“Philosophical,” he repeated dryly. He paused the game, setting the controller on his lap as he gave you a long, unreadable look. “What kind of philosophical question? Like, the meaning of life or something?”

You bit your lip, doing your best to keep a straight face. “Not exactly. It’s about… choking.”

Heeseung blinked. His fingers twitched against the controller. “Choking,” he repeated, his voice suddenly much lower. “Like, uh… the kink?”

“Mhm,” you confirmed, stretching out your legs like this was a casual conversation. “I’ve been thinking about why people like it. Is it about trust? Control? Or maybe something more primal?”

Heeseung stared at you. Then he sighed, dragging a hand down his face before leaning back against the couch. “Are you serious?”

You shrugged. “I think it’s an interesting topic.”

“I was literally about to beat that level,” he muttered, pointing at the paused screen. “And you want me to sit here and analyze the philosophy of choking?”

“Well, you can still play,” you teased, nudging his arm. “I can talk while you game.”

He gave you a long, unimpressed look before picking up the controller again. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Think about it,” you continued, grinning at how flustered he was. “Why do we want to give up control like that? What does it say about our trust in each other?”

Heeseung groaned, pausing the game again and dropping the controller onto his lap. “You’re seriously not going to stop until I answer, are you?”

“Nope,” you said brightly, leaning closer to him.

His eyes closed briefly as he let out another sigh. When he opened them again, there was a glint of amusement in his gaze. “Fine,” he muttered, setting the controller aside completely. “If you want to talk about trust and control or whatever, I guess we can do that. But just remember—you brought this on yourself.”

The corners of his mouth twitched upward, and despite his initial exasperation, you could tell he was starting to enjoy this. He leaned toward you, resting his forearm on his knee, and smirked. “Alright, philosopher. Let’s hear it.”

You blinked, slightly taken aback by his sudden shift in attitude. “Wait—are you actually interested now?”

Heeseung’s smirk grew. “No,” he said flatly, crossing his arms, “but you’re clearly not gonna let this go. So go ahead, hit me with your big philosophical choking theory.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at how serious he looked. “Okay, well, I think it’s not just about the physical act, you know? It’s about trust. You’re giving someone that much control over you, and you have to fully trust them not to hurt you. That’s kind of beautiful, don’t you think?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Beautiful?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. It’s like a dance—one person leads, the other follows, but only because they trust that the other person knows exactly when to stop. It’s not just primal. It’s… intimate.”

Heeseung snorted. “Intimate,” he repeated, shaking his head. “You’re really turning choking into some kind of love poem?”

“I’m just saying!” you protested, throwing up your hands. “It’s more than just physical. Don’t you ever think about why we’re into the things we’re into?”

He let out a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, not really. I just figured you liked it rough sometimes.”

You couldn’t help but grin at how casually he said it. “Well, yeah, but it’s not just that. It’s the trust. The dynamic. That feeling of giving up control in a safe way. Don’t you ever think about what that means?”

Heeseung looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a dramatic groan, he reached for his controller again. “I think it means I’m never gonna get to finish this game if you keep talking.”

You laughed, lightly swatting his arm. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you’re overthinking everything,” he shot back, though there was no real bite in his tone. “But fine. If it means that much to you…” He paused, his gaze flickering down to your lips before he leaned in closer, just barely brushing against you. His voice dropped slightly as he added, “Maybe I’ll show you exactly what trust feels like later.”

Your breath hitched, the teasing smirk on his face making your pulse race.

He pulled back quickly, though, laughing as he turned back to his game. “But only if you let me beat this level first.”

Heeseung’s fingers lingered against your jaw, his thumb moving in slow, deliberate circles along your cheekbone. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, flickered over your face, lingering on your parted lips. He was watching—reading you—taking in every shaky breath, every nervous flick of your gaze, every small movement that gave you away.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice lower now, a velvety, teasing hum. His lips hovered just inches from yours, and you could feel his breath ghosting over your skin. Close, but not close enough.

Your pulse jumped. He wasn’t even touching you properly yet, and somehow, he had you completely at his mercy. “You’re the one making me wait,” you managed to whisper, though your voice lacked the teasing edge you intended.

Heeseung chuckled softly, the sound deep and knowing. His grip tightened slightly, his fingers sliding down the column of your neck, grazing your collarbone before settling just above your waist. He held you there, his touch grounding but unhurried—like he was savoring the anticipation, like he knew exactly how worked up you were and was in no rush to give you what you wanted.

“That’s because I like seeing you like this,” he admitted, his tone smooth and unbothered, yet threaded with something darker. “All needy. Barely keeping it together.” His thumb dipped slightly, brushing against the waistband of your shorts before retreating—just enough to make you twitch under his touch.

Your breath hitched, and his smirk grew.

“You keep talking about trust,” Heeseung continued, his fingers toying lazily with the fabric at your hip. His movements were slow, agonizingly slow, as if daring you to break first. “But you already know you trust me.”

Your body leaned into him instinctively, searching for more, but his grip tightened just enough to hold you still. “Then prove it,” he whispered against your jaw, his lips finally making contact. “Let me do everything.”

The words sent a shiver through you.

His mouth moved down, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his tongue tracing the faintest heat against your skin before he pulled back—leaving you aching for more. His other hand slid under the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing over your ribs before drifting lower. Every touch was calculated, purposeful. Just enough to make your stomach tighten, just enough to make you want to beg.

But you didn’t. Not yet.

Instead, you dug your fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as if he were the only thing tethering you to reality. Heeseung chuckled again, the sound vibrating against your throat.

“You’re holding on so tight,” he murmured, his voice dipping even lower. His lips hovered just beneath your ear. “Afraid I’ll let go?”

You swallowed hard. “No,” you whispered.

His teeth grazed the sensitive spot on your neck, just barely. “Then stop thinking,” he ordered softly. “Just let me take care of you.”

Your breath came quicker now, your body already burning with anticipation. And Heeseung—Heeseung could feel it.

His smirk deepened as he pulled back slightly, dark eyes flickering over your face. He was still taking his time, still making you wait. His fingers skimmed lower, trailing along the waistband of your shorts once more before slipping underneath.

You gasped softly, your fingers tightening against his skin.

Heeseung grinned, satisfied. “That’s better,” he murmured. “Now let’s see just how much you really trust me.”

And then, finally—finally—he gave you exactly what you needed.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

Jay was so patient with you.

Your husband spoiled you endlessly, let you crawl into his lap whenever you wanted, kissed you lazily even when he was exhausted, and held you close like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. But tonight? Tonight, he was actually trying to work.

You should’ve let him.

But then, you didn’t.

Instead, you climbed into his lap without warning, straddling him like it was the most natural thing in the world. He froze immediately, hands still hovering over his MIDI keyboard, his body going stiff beneath you.

You could feel his exhale against your neck. Slow, steady, knowing.

“…Bored?” he asked finally, his voice warm but very clearly suspicious.

You hummed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Not really. Just wanted to sit here.”

Jay let out a slow suffering sigh, but his hands settled on your waist instinctively. “Baby, you know I’m—”

“Can I ask you something?” you interrupted, tilting your head.

His fingers drummed absentmindedly against your back. “Okay…” He gave you a very skeptical look. “Is it normal?”

You pursed your lips, pretending to think. “I’d say so.”

Jay narrowed his eyes slightly, still not trusting you one bit. “Go on.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his jaw before whispering, “Why do you think I like sitting on your face so much?”

Jay’s entire body locked up.

His grip on your waist tightened immediately. His lips parted slightly, his pupils dilating as his brain fully shut down.He blinked once. Twice.

“…What?”

You smirked. “Do you think it’s about power? Like, I like being in control? Or do you think it’s more about trust?”

Jay just kept blinking.

You could see the exact moment his brain tried and failed to process what you had just said. His brows furrowed slightly, his jaw tensing.

“…Are we really having this conversation right now?”

You grinned. “Yes.”

Jay let out the deepest sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “I—what? Why?”

“Because it’s an interesting question.”

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping firmly. “Baby, I was literally working. And you just decided now was the best time to talk about why you like—”

“It’s psychology, Jay.” You lifted your hips slightly before settling back down, just enough to feel the way his breath hitched beneath you.

Jay’s fingers flexed, hard. His grip on you tightened instantly. His jaw clenched, visibly trying to keep it together.

“…You’re actually insane,” he muttered.

“But you love me,” you teased, shifting slightly again.

Jay inhaled sharply, his patience visibly wearing thin. “Okay,” he muttered, voice lower now. “You want an answer?”

You nodded, biting back a smirk.

His fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your hips. “I think,” he murmured, his tone dipping into something dangerous, “you like it because you know I’d stay there for hours if you let me.”

Your breath hitched.

Jay’s smirk deepened, his hands gripping tighter now. “Because you like having me at your mercy. Because you like seeing me fall apart underneath you.”

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

He leaned in, his lips just barely brushing against yours. “But if you wanna talk about trust,” he whispered, “then let’s test it.”

Before you could react, he rolled his hips up into you.

A sharp gasp left your lips as the friction sent a rush of heat straight to your stomach. Jay’s smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it grew as his hands guided you—slow, lazy movements, just enough to tease.

“Still wanna keep talking?” he asked, voice all silk and sin.

You barely managed to swallow. “I—”

He rolled up again, his grip tightening.

You whimpered.

Jay chuckled, leaning in until his lips brushed against your ear. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands guided you over him again, the friction sparking a dangerous kind of heat between your legs, your thighs trembling slightly as you gripped his shoulders. You could feel everything. The way he fit against you perfectly, the heat of his body radiating through the thin layers between you.

Jay’s lips brushed your jaw, his voice a low murmur. “I want you to feel it.”

You barely managed a reply before he rocked you down against him again, harder this time. A choked moan left your lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your body already burning.

Jay’s hands didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down.

His lips curled against your ear. “See?” he whispered. “You don’t even need my mouth to fall apart.”

You let out a desperate, broken noise, gripping onto him as your stomach coiled tighter and tighter, the slow, deliberate grind of his hips sending waves of heat through you.

“You wanted to talk about trust?” Jay muttered. “Then trust me. Let go.”

And then, he pushed up into you just right.

Your body gave in instantly, the sharp, overwhelming pleasure ripping through you too fast to stop. You trembled in his arms, your breath catching, your nails biting into his skin as you came right there, just from the way he moved you.

Jay let out a low groan, his hands gripping your waist as he kept you steady through it, watching you come undone in his lap.

And when you finally slumped against his chest, shaky and breathless, he just chuckled, his voice filled with pure satisfaction.

“That,” he murmured, lips pressing against your temple, “is the real answer to your question.”

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

Jake was completely at peace.

Sprawled across the couch, his laptop open in front of him, he was deep into some ridiculously long YouTube documentary about deep-sea fishing. His head was resting comfortably against the couch cushions, his arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other settled comfortably around your waist. You were leaning into his chest, tucked perfectly against him, the warmth of his body pressing into yours as he absentmindedly traced slow, light circles over your stomach.

It was comfortable. Domestic.

It was also about to be completely ruined.

He hadn’t even realized what he had done, how carelessly he had set himself up for failure, until it was far too late. Because when you walked in, when you settled so easily into his lap, nuzzling into him like you belonged there, he greeted you without thinking.

“Hi, my angel.”

The moment the words left his lips, his entire body tensed.

The realization hit him immediately.

A slow, creeping pause settled between you, as if even the air had stilled. His fingers froze mid-trace against your stomach. His breath hitched, sharp and slow, and you—you little menace—smiled. Sweetly.

Jake blinked once. Then twice. He swallowed hard, his grip on you tightening slightly. His brain was already trying to calculate how to undo his mistake, how to steer this moment back into something safe.

But it was too late.

His breath came slower now, more measured, more cautious. “Wait…” he murmured, his voice tinged with immediate regret.

You tilted your head up, still smiling. “Can I ask you something?”

Jake let out a slow, suffering sigh. “Oh, here we go.”

You ignored him, shifting slightly in his lap, settling in closer. “Why do you think dirty talk is so powerful?” you asked, your tone almost innocent. “Do you think it’s more about power dynamics? Or is it psychological?”

Jake’s entire body locked up.

Every single part of him—his hands, his breath, the subtle rise and fall of his chest—all of it stopped.

Like a deer caught in headlights, his fingers, which had been resting lazily on your stomach, stiffened completely. His jaw went tight. His chest barely moved.

Then, after a long, long moment of absolute silence, he sucked in a slow, sharp inhale.

His head tilted back against the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if asking the universe why it had forsaken him.His hands dragged down his face, his frustration so tangible you could almost taste it.

“…What the fuck.”

You giggled. “It’s a valid question.”

Jake turned his head so slowly it was almost painful, his eyes narrowed in pure disbelief. “No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s fucking not.”

Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, gripping your waist like he was trying to ground himself. “Baby,” he said, his voice so strained, “I was watching a fishing video.”

“And now we’re talking about something even more interesting,” you chirped, shifting in his lap just slightly.

Jake’s fingers flexed instantly. His grip on your waist tightened.

He exhaled through his nose again, sharper this time. “You are actually the worst,” he muttered, his jaw clenching.

You grabbed his hand, lifting it to your lips.

Jake immediately stopped breathing.

You kissed his fingertips softly, the warmth of your lips pressing against his skin before slowly, purposefully, slipping two of them into your mouth.

Sucking.

Jake let out a low, shaky breath. His entire body tensed.

His hand, which had been resting casually on your stomach just seconds ago, was now twitching in your grasp, his fingers pressing lightly against your tongue, his pulse quickening beneath your fingertips.

“…What are you doing?” he asked, voice dangerously lower.

You pulled his fingers out with a soft pop, tilting your head. “Getting them wet.”

Jake’s pupils dilated instantly.

His breath hitched as he swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His entire system was malfunctioning.

“For what?” he finally croaked, voice hoarse.

You guided his hand back down, slipping it beneath your waistband.

Jake’s breath hitched violently.

“Oh, fuck.”

His fingers twitched, and his entire body went rigid.

You turned your head slightly, your lips brushing his jaw. “Go on, Jakey.”

Jake let out a low, shaky exhale. “You are—” He cut himself off, sucking in a breath.

Then, after a second of pure hesitation, his fingers finally moved.

A soft whimper escaped you, and Jake lost it.

His arm tightened around your waist, his lips brushing against your temple. “You wanna talk about power?” he whispered. “Let’s test it.”

His fingers pressed deeper, teasing, purposeful, unhurried. He was taking his time, dragging the moment out just to see how long you could last.

Your hips jerked slightly, seeking more, but Jake just chuckled darkly.

“Patience, angel,” he murmured, so smug. “Since you wanted a full analysis, I think it’s only fair I take my time.”

His fingers dipped lower, spreading you apart as he dragged his touch through your slick. His movements were infuriatingly slow, feather-light strokes that had your thighs tensing instantly.

Jake hummed, his breath warm against your ear. “Shit, baby. You’re already this wet? Just from that?”

You bit your lip, breathing uneven.

His fingers stilled. “Use your words.”

You swallowed hard. “Y-yeah, Jakey.”

Jake let out a low groan, his lips pressing to the side of your neck. “Fuck. I should’ve known. My needy girl just loves being talked to, huh?”

You nodded quickly.

Jake chuckled darkly, his fingers suddenly pressing deeper, rubbing slow, deliberate circles.

Your breath hitched, your legs tensing.

“You’re so easy to ruin,” he muttered, his tone filled with pure, filthy amusement.

His fingers picked up the pace, dipping inside you before pressing back up to rub exactly where you needed. Your hips jerked helplessly, a soft moan spilling from your lips as you gripped his arm for support.

Jake smirked. “Oh, you love this, don’t you?”

And then, he ruined you.

His fingers pressed deep, rubbing fast, relentless, filthy, perfect. His free hand tightened around your stomach, holding you down against him as you squirmed helplessly.

Jake groaned, his voice low and pleased. “That’s it, angel,” he murmured. “Just like that. Let me feel you.”

Your stomach tightened as the pleasure crashed over you too fast to stop.

And when it was over, when you were spent and shaking in his arms, Jake just smirked, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Philosophy lesson’s over, angel,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Now you’re just mine.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

Sunghoon had one simple goal: take a shower, relax, and get some goddamn peace.

But no. That was never an option when it came to you.

The second you waltzed into the bathroom, planted yourself on the closed toilet lid, and smirked up at him like you had something evil brewing in that brain of yours, he should’ve just turned around and walked straight out.

But instead, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he peeled off his shirt, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He should’ve ignored you.

But then—

“Babe, have I told you that you look suuuuuuper sexy right now?”

His fingers froze mid-motion on the waistband of his sweatpants. His entire body stiffened. Slowly, too slowly, he turned to look at you, his jaw already clenching.

He squinted, suspicious. “What do you want?”

You gasped, so dramatically, placing a hand over your chest like you were some old-timey actress in distress. “Why do you assume I want something?”

Sunghoon exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. He knew you. He knew exactly where this was going.

Your grin widened. “Can I ask you something?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “No.”

“You haven’t even heard it yet!” you pouted.

Another sigh. "Fine. What?"

You tilted your head, studying him like he was a puzzle you were trying to solve.

And then—you ruined his entire night.

"Why do you think I like it so much when you fuck me in the shower?"

Silence.

A long, painful, unbearable silence.

Sunghoon just stood there, blinking, processing, trying to comprehend the absolute nonsense you had just said.

Then, without a single word, he turned to the shower wall and banged his head against the tile.

"Are you fucking serious?"

You burst into laughter, delighted. "What? It's a valid question!"

His jaw clenched. His fists curled at his sides. He inhaled deeply, through his nose, struggling for self-restraint.

His patience was hanging by a thread.

“Why,” he muttered, voice painfully flat, "why the fuck would you ask me that right now?"

You shrugged, still grinning. “Just curious.”

His eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not. You’re trying to start shit.”

You giggled. “I’m not! I just think it’s interesting.”

Sunghoon dragged a hand through his hair, his muscles tensing, his biceps flexing slightly in frustration. “I hate you .”

"No, you don't," you chimed, voice way too smug.

Sunghoon tilted his head back against the tile, exhaling sharply, as if praying for patience.

And then, you made it worse.

You stretched, arching your back slightly, batting your lashes up at him, letting the steam from the running shower kiss your skin.

"You're so dense sometimes," you teased, voice syrupy-sweet, laced with pure mischief.

Sunghoon’s head snapped toward you instantly.

His eyes darkened. His fingers twitched.

You smirked. "Maybe I just want you to fuck me in the shower."

That was it.

That was the final straw.

Sunghoon full-body froze.

For a second, he didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even breathe.

And then, his patience snapped.

In two quick strides, he was in front of you, gripping your wrist and yanking you up onto your feet. His other hand grasped the back of your neck, tilting your head up until your breath hitched.

His eyes? Dark. Sharp. Absolutely wrecked.

His thumb brushed along your jaw, teasing, firm, unforgiving.

"Say that again."

Your stomach flipped violently.

His grip on your waist tightened.

You smirked. "Maybe I just want you to f—"

You never got to finish your sentence.

Sunghoon grabbed you, lifted you effortlessly, and carried you straight into the shower.

Your scream of protest barely made it out before the water crashed over both of you, drenching you instantly.

And then—

"WAIT—LET ME TAKE MY BRA OFF FIRST!"

Sunghoon froze.

His grip on your thighs tightened slightly.

Then, slowly—so painfully slowly—he lifted his head, staring at you like you had just spoken a completely different language.

“…What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You whined, struggling in his grip, water dripping down your face. "Hoon, it's new! I don't wanna get it wet!"

Sunghoon let out the most exasperated laugh, shaking his head like he was physically restraining himself from throwing his head back in frustration.

"Baby. It’s just a bra.”

Your jaw dropped. "It is NOT just a bra!"

Sunghoon groaned, tilting his head back, breathing deeply like he was trying to find the strength to not completely combust.

Then, after a beat, his grip on you changed.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he muttered, voice darker now, rougher, wrecked beyond belief.

Then, before you could even react, his mouth latched onto your collarbone, biting, teasing.

Your protest turned into a sharp gasp.

His hands slid up your soaked body, fingers hooking under the bra straps, dragging them down, his teeth grazing against your skin.

And then, he sucked.

Hard.

Your breath hitched violently, your back arching instinctively.

Sunghoon groaned against you, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, teasing, tugging. His grip tightened, pressing you further into the tile.

"You're whining about a bra, but you're already falling apart," he muttered against your skin.

Your fingers clawed at his shoulders, legs trembling in his grasp. "H-Hoon—"

He grinned against your skin, completely in control now, completely in his element.

He licked a slow stripe over your nipple, sucking it into his mouth again.

Then, with a groan that sent heat pooling between your thighs, he sighed against your skin.

His mouth was fixated on your chest, his hands squeezing, kneading, his lips sucking bruises into your soft skin. His teeth scraped lightly, tongue flicking, mouth warm and wet as he groaned against your body.

His grip on your thighs tightened, pressing you further into the cool tile, the contrast of heat and cold making your breath hitch. He was obsessed, hyper-focused, like he was trying to commit every inch of you to memory.

And then—you ruined him all over again.

Between sharp gasps and breathy whimpers, you let out a teasing, mock-thoughtful hum.

"Hoon… if you had to choose, my tits or me… which one?"

Sunghoon’s movements completely stopped.

His teeth grazed over your nipple, pausing mid-bite. His fingers flexed against your waist, gripping you tighter. His breath stalled.

Then—so, so slowly—he lifted his head.

Water dripped from his soaked hair, running down his sharp jaw, over his kiss-swollen lips, and down the defined slope of his collarbones. His eyes flickered up, meeting yours—dark, dazed, completely wrecked.

And then, he let out the most exasperated groan of his life.

"Are you actually insane?"

You giggled, wiggling slightly in his grasp. “It’s a simple question.”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes.

And then—just to make you suffer, he exhaled slowly, dragging his hands over your curves, squeezing your waist, before moving right back up to your chest.

His thumb brushed over your nipple lazily, teasing, deliberate. Then, he leaned in again, mouth hovering right over your skin, his breath warm, smirking against you.

"Hmm," he murmured, mock considering. "That’s actually a really hard choice, baby…"

Your stomach flipped violently.

He tilted his head, exhaling sharply through his nose, like he was really thinking about it. "I mean," he continued, squeezing your breasts again, licking a slow, teasing stripe over the sensitive skin, "on one hand, your tits are literally perfect."

His tongue flicked over your nipple, making your breath stutter.

"So soft, so fucking pretty, fit right in my hands," he groaned, his voice dropping lower, hungrier.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders. "Hoon—"

"But," he interrupted, grinning against your skin, pressing another wet, open-mouthed kiss, his teeth nipping at the skin right above your breast.

"You’re also really cute."

You snorted, shoving at his shoulder. "Really cute? That’s the best you’ve got?"

Sunghoon grinned, squeezing your thighs tighter. "I’m literally worshiping you in the shower, and you’re worried about my choice of words?"

You huffed. "You didn’t answer the question."

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, tilting his head, mock-considering again. Then, with zero shame, he muttered, "Honestly? …I might have to choose the tits."

Your jaw dropped. “HOON!”

He broke instantly, laughing against your skin, his grip on you tightening as you squirmed against him.

"I’m kidding, I’m kidding!" he choked out between laughs, pressing hot, teasing kisses back over your chest, dragging his tongue across every inch of skin he could reach.

Then, as he pulled you even closer, mouth ghosting over your ear, voice dripping with amusement and something darker, something heavier, he murmured—

"Don’t worry, baby."

He nipped at your earlobe, grinning against your skin.

"I’d never survive without you."

And then, he sank back down, lips wrapping around your nipple again, sucking deep and slow, like he was tasting something addictive.

This time, he looked up while he did it.

His big, dark eyes locked onto yours, wide and intense, watching every tiny shift in your expression. The moment your lips parted on a shaky moan, his grip tightened on your waist, his tongue flicking deliberately against the peak before closing his lips around it again, sucking harder.

His eyes never left your face.

Every time you gasped, every time your brows furrowed slightly in pleasure, he noticed. His breath came out faster, rougher, his pupils blown wide as if he was getting off on watching you unravel.

He pulled off with a wet pop, lips pink and glossy, tongue swiping over them as he tilted his head.

“Fuck.”

His voice was wrecked. Raspy. So deep it sent a sharp pulse straight through your core.

“You look so pretty when I do that,” he murmured.

His mouth was right back on you, sucking even harder, his eyes heavy-lidded, unwavering.

His fingers kneaded your other breast, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers, his hips pressing forward, pinning you completely against the tile.

The look on his face was pure hunger.

"I swear, I could do this forever, baby."

His voice was low, hoarse, slurred around his next breath. His thumb brushed over your nipple, teasingly slow. His lips pressed soft, wet kisses down the swell of your breast, dragging his teeth slightly as he went.

And then, as if the realization just hit him, he let out a soft groan, his head dropping briefly against your chest.

"God, I hate you," he muttered, his breath warm against your skin.

You let out a breathless laugh. "Yeah?"

Sunghoon lifted his head, grinning slightly, but his eyes were still dark, still drunk off you.

Then, with zero hesitation, he leaned down, kissing between your breasts, nipping lightly at your skin, before whispering—

"But I love your tits. I can’t live without them."

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

Sunoo was thrilled.

Not because of the movie playing on his laptop, not because he had finally gotten comfortable on the couch with his oversized blanket. No.

He was thrilled because you had just turned to him, eyes glinting with curiosity, and asked—

“Why do you think I like being praised so much?”

Sunoo blinked once.

Then, his entire face lit up.

“Oh, finally! A topic I actually care about!”

You snorted immediately. “What does that mean?”

Sunoo sat up straight, pulling the blanket off his shoulders like he was preparing for a TED Talk. “It means I have thoughts.”

Your lips twitched. “You’ve thought about this before?”

"Obviously." His tone was borderline offended. “Baby, do you realize how much you fish for compliments? If I don’t tell you you’re pretty at least three times a day, you start getting restless.”

You gasped, scandalized. “I do NOT!”

Sunoo arched a brow.

You pouted. “…Maybe a little.”

He grinned, smug. “See? And that’s why I already have a theory.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Alright, genius. Enlighten me.”

Sunoo’s eyes practically sparkled.

“It’s because you like validation, but not just any validation—you like earned validation.”

Your brows furrowed. “Go on.”

Sunoo tilted his head, clearly enjoying this way too much. “See, if I tell you you’re beautiful just because, you’ll accept it—but if I tell you that you’re beautiful because you just made me lose my mind in bed? That’s what gets you going.”

You froze.

Sunoo smirked immediately. “Ohhh, I’m right, aren’t I?”

You swallowed. “…Continue.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice turning softer, smoother. “You don’t just want to hear that you’re good at something—you want proof. You want me to tell you how good you are, how perfect you are, while I’m literally falling apart because of you.”

Your entire body felt like it was heating up.

Sunoo’s eyes gleamed. “You want to be the best. You want to feel like you’re irreplaceable.”

You bit your lip, suddenly very aware of how close he was getting.

And then, as if he was reading your mind, he smiled sweetly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

“You like being praised because you like knowing you’re ruining me.”

Your breath hitched.

And Sunoo caught it immediately.

His smirk turned positively sinful. “See? I told you I was right.”

You swallowed, trying to recover, but the knowing glint in his eyes had you spiraling. “Okay, fine. Maybe you have a point.”

Sunoo grinned, entirely too satisfied.

Then, just to push you further, he tilted his head, watching you closely. “Do you want me to prove it?”

Your entire body shivered.

And that was all the confirmation he needed.

Sunoo was still sitting, his posture perfectly relaxed, but his eyes? His eyes told a different story. They were dark, glinting with something sharp, something playful, something completely devastating.

And you?

You were fully spiraling.

Your breath hitched, barely noticeable, but Sunoo caught it immediately. His lips twitched into the softest smirk, like he was already celebrating his victory.

Then, with the slowest, most deliberate movement possible, he reached forward, his fingers brushing against your chin, tilting your face up slightly.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” he mused, voice velvety smooth, teasing.

Your heart slammed against your ribs. “I—I’m just…” You swallowed. “Thinking.”

Sunoo smirked. “Mm. Thinking.”

And then, without warning, he closed the space between you.

The first kiss was soft, teasing, just a hint of pressure. Just enough to make your breath stutter.

But then?

Then he tilted his head slightly, deepening it—just barely.

And that was your first mistake.

Because the second your body melted into him, the second your fingers gripped onto his sweater slightly, he smiled into the kiss—fully in control, fully aware of the power he had over you.

His hand slid up your jaw, fingers pressing lightly at the hinge, guiding you into the kiss the way he wanted.

Slow. Controlled. Completely devastating.

When he finally pulled back slightly, his lips were already kiss-swollen, his breath uneven.

But his eyes?

Smug. So, so smug.

“You like it when I take my time, don’t you?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Your stomach flipped violently.

Sunoo grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

And then, before you could even respond, he was on you again.

This time, no hesitation, no teasing.

Just deep, soul-stealing kisses, his lips moving against yours slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring every second.

His free hand slid down, gripping your waist, pulling you closer, until you were practically pressed against him.

You let out a soft, breathless sound, and that was all it took.

Sunoo groaned softly against your lips, his fingers tightening on your waist as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss even further.

His tongue traced along your bottom lip, slow, unhurried, teasing, and when you gasped softly, he swallowed the sound immediately, taking full control of the kiss.

And just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he pulled away—just barely, just enough to make you chase his lips.

His breath fanned against your mouth, his lips grazing yours as he whispered—

“See, baby?”

His fingers slid along your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You love it when I praise you.”

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

It had been one of those weeks. Jungwon was exhausted, and all he wanted was a night of uninterrupted sleep. But you had other plans.

You’d been tossing and turning beside him for nearly half an hour, sighing loudly, shifting closer and closer as if waiting for him to acknowledge you. He didn’t. He stayed still, kept his eyes shut, and prayed you’d get tired and fall asleep.

Instead, you whispered, “Jungwon?”

He ignored you.

“Jungwon,” you tried again, your voice sweet and teasing.

A sharp sigh escaped him, and finally, he muttered, “What.”

You smiled, pressing yourself closer. “Can we talk about something?”

“No,” he said flatly, eyes still closed.

“But it’s important.”

“It’s never important.” His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it.

“You don’t even know what it is yet,” you said, undeterred.

Jungwon opened his eyes just enough to glare at you. His expression was entirely unamused, but the annoyance in his face was matched with a weariness that made his sharp tone almost flat. “Fine,” he muttered. “What is it?”

You bit your lip, trailing your fingers lightly over his stomach. “It’s about sex.”

He stilled, his hand twitching against the blanket. “…What about it.”

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, drawing out your words as you brushed your nails down his chest, “about why I always want you to fuck me until I cry.”

His jaw clenched, his body going rigid. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Then, with an exaggerated exhale, he rolled over and faced the wall.

You gasped. “Oh my God. You’re actually ignoring me?”

“Yes.”

“But I need you.”

“You always need me.”

“And you love it.”

Jungwon let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard. After another moment of silence, he rolled onto his back again, dragging a hand down his face. His eyes were half-lidded, heavy with exhaustion and exasperation.

“You have no self-control,” he muttered.

You grinned. “Mhm.”

He shook his head. “No, because let’s really talk about this. You’re constantly like this. Always touching me, always saying things like that. Do you have any idea how impossible you make my life?”

You giggled softly, your fingers moving lower. “I do.”

“That wasn’t a compliment,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

“But you love me.”

“…Unfortunately.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience hanging by a thread. “I have been told I have a very high sex drive, but baby, I do not have the facilities to go three times a day. I have things to do. I need sleep. I need to—”

His voice cut off mid-sentence as he noticed where your hand had gone. His gaze dropped, and his lips parted slightly as he registered the slow, deliberate circles you were making against yourself.

“Are you seriously doing that right now?” he asked, his voice low and clipped.

You smirked, letting out a soft moan. “Mhm.”

Jungwon’s jaw tightened. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling it away. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, his voice quiet and controlled. “You really have no shame, do you?”

His free hand trailed down to your thigh, pausing just at the edge of your hip. “You’ve made my life difficult every single day this week. And now you’re doing this.” His fingers brushed against you lightly, making you shiver. “Fine. If you’re going to be this much of a problem, then count every single time you’ve made things harder for me.”

“Count?” you repeated, your breath catching.

“Count,” he ordered, his voice calm but firm. He paused just long enough for you to hesitate before delivering a sharp slap against your center.

You gasped, your back arching slightly at the sudden sting.

“One,” you murmured, your voice unsteady.

Jungwon hummed softly, satisfied. “Good. Now keep going. Let’s start with Monday—when you woke me up two hours early because you were ‘bored.’ I told you to wait until I was actually awake, but you just wouldn’t stop until I gave in.”

Another slap.

“Two.”

“Tuesday,” he continued, his voice still low and even, though his grip on your wrist remained firm. “I had a meeting, and you climbed onto my lap, whispering in my ear, making it impossible to focus. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

The slap that followed was harder this time, the sharp sound echoing through the room.

“Three.”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady on you. “Wednesday. I was trying to work, and you walked in wearing that shirt you know drives me insane. You didn’t even have a reason—just stood there, stretching, pretending not to notice what it did to me.”

Another slap, this one leaving you breathless.

“Four.”

“Thursday,” Jungwon continued, his tone remaining measured. “I came home late, exhausted, ready to collapse. But you were waiting in bed, saying you couldn’t sleep, that you missed me, that you needed me—like I didn’t have the right to rest after a long day.”

The next slap made you whimper, and you barely managed to whisper the number.

“Five.”

“And Friday,” he said, his voice calm and thoughtful, as though he were simply recounting facts. “You walked in while I was on the phone, saying the filthiest things in my ear, completely throwing me off.”

Another slap, another gasp, another quiet number.

“Six.”

Jungwon smirked faintly, his expression unreadable as he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “Six times,” he murmured. “Six times this week you’ve pushed me too far. I wonder how many more it’ll take before you finally learn.”

And then, without warning, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck before he parted them. A single strand of saliva dripped from his mouth, landing directly where his hand had just been. The warmth of it sent a shiver through you, and your thighs instinctively shifted.

Jungwon watched your reaction, his gaze dark. “You don’t listen,” he muttered, his thumb moving to spread the wetness over your heated skin. “But that’s fine. I’ll just have to remind you again.”

With that, he leaned down further, his mouth finding its way to your skin. His lips pressed lightly, his tongue dragging along the sensitive area. And when he finally took you in his mouth, the warmth, the pressure—it was too much. Your breathing quickened, your hands clenching the sheets as he worked, his actions slow, deliberate, and relentless.

Jungwon pulled back slightly, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He glanced up at you, his expression still composed, though his eyes burned with intensity. “You’ll count properly next time,” he said quietly, his tone steady, “or we’ll just keep going until you do.”

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢

The private court was quiet, except for the sound of sneakers skidding across the pavement, the steady rhythm of the basketball bouncing, and the occasional swoosh of a perfect shot hitting the net.

It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

Because you were bored out of your mind.

At first, you had been entertained—watching Riki drip with sweat, his muscles flexing subtly under his shirt, his jaw clenched in focus as he moved effortlessly across the court. You could’ve sat there for hours.

But now?

Now you were kicking at the pavement, sprawling yourself dramatically across the bench, watching him ignore you like it was his job.

You sighed loudly. "Ni-ki."

“Mmm.” He didn’t even glance at you, lining up another shot.

You huffed. "I’m bored."

“Okay,” he said, still not looking.

Your eye twitched. “That’s it?”

He smirked slightly, dribbling the ball lazily. “What do you want me to do? Call the circus to entertain you?”

“I don’t know,” you grumbled, watching as he effortlessly sunk another shot before catching the ball again.

Riki finally turned, spinning the ball in his hands, giving you the laziest grin. “You literally begged to come watch me play.”

“Yeah, because I thought you'd be entertaining,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Instead, I’m just sitting here, staring at you running around in circles.”

He grinned. “So basically, you just like watching me be hot.”

You snorted. “I mean… yeah.”

Riki’s smirk widened. “I knew it.”

You rolled your eyes, but then, an idea hit you.

A terrible, wonderful, completely deranged idea.

“Actually,” you started, stretching your arms above your head, watching him carefully, “I have a question.”

Riki blinked, dribbling absently. "Why do I feel like this is about to be something weird?"

You ignored him. “Why do you think I like it so much when you spit in my mouth?”

Silence.

Riki’s hands literally stopped moving. The ball bounced off his foot and rolled away.

Very, very slowly, he turned to stare at you, expression completely blank.

“…I’m sorry?”

You grinned. “Like, psychologically. What do you think it means?”

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

Nothing came out.

You waited. Smiling. Expectant.

Riki exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

You gasped, mock-offended. “That’s rude! It’s a normal question!”

“That is not a normal question!” He threw his hands up, fully spiraling now. “Who the hell sits courtside, watches their boyfriend play basketball, and then just—just casually wonders about the deeper meaning of spit kinks?!”

You shrugged, completely unbothered. “I just think it’s interesting.”

Riki rubbed his temples like you were giving him a migraine. “Jesus Christ.”

Then, after a long pause, he squinted at you. “…So, do you actually want an answer?”

You grinned. “Obviously.”

Riki groaned, shaking his head. "You're actually insane."

But then—he actually thought about it.

“…Okay, fine.” He crossed his arms, looking at you like you were a science experiment. "You like being spit in because you’re gross."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, Mr. Psychology Degree."

He smirked. "No, seriously. It’s the ownership thing, isn’t it? It’s about control. You like it because it’s filthy and degrading, and that’s what gets you off."

Your stomach flipped violently.

Riki caught it immediately.

His grin widened. "Ohhh, that’s totally it."

You crossed your arms, trying to play it cool. “I—maybe. Continue.”

He tilted his head, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “It’s primal, isn’t it? Something about me doing something so demeaning, but you still loving it. Like you’d take anything I give you.”

Your thighs pressed together involuntarily.

And of course, Riki saw.

His smirk turned wicked.

"You like it," he murmured, stepping forward, bouncing the basketball once before letting it roll away.

Your back straightened. “I never said that.”

"You didn’t have to," he said smoothly.

Then, before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, yanking you up from the bench effortlessly.

You let out a surprised squeak, your hands instinctively pressing against his chest.

"Riki—"

"Shh," he murmured, backing you up until your spine hit the court wall.

Your pulse skyrocketed.

His arms caged you in, his body pressed just barely against yours, not touching but close enough that you could feel his warmth.

"So," he mused, tilting his head, his eyes flicking between yours. "You like it when I’m in control, huh?"

Your breath caught.

Riki grinned, teasing. "What was that thing you said earlier? You like it when I spit in your mouth?"

Your face burned. "I didn’t say I liked it—"

"Oh, no, no, baby," he murmured, leaning in, lips ghosting over yours, breath hot and sweet. "You love it."

You whimpered.

Riki’s grin widened. "Should I prove it?"

Your stomach flipped so hard you nearly collapsed.

And before you could answer, his hand tilted your chin up, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

His eyes darkened, lips parting slightly as he ran his thumb along your tongue.

"Open," he murmured.

And when you did?

He spat, slow, deliberate, watching with parted lips as it slid over your tongue.

And then, just to make it worse, he whispered—

"Swallow, baby."

Your head spun.

And before you could even process what was happening, his lips crashed against yours.

The kiss was hot, messy, completely unhinged.

His hands slid down, gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him, until you were trapped between his body and the cold wall of the private court.

You gasped softly, and Riki swallowed the sound immediately, deepening the kiss just enough to make your legs weak.

"See?" he muttered against your lips, his voice dripping with amusement.

"You just like letting me win."

Then, with zero hesitation, his hands slipped lower, gripping your thighs.

And before you could say another word, he lifted you effortlessly, pinning you against the wall completely.

The feeling of his hot breath against your neck, the firm press of his body against yours, the way he had you completely at his mercy. It all proved his

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: What's Your Future Spouse's Best Personality Trait? ✮⋆˙

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How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

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MY MASTERLIST🫶🏻

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⊹₊⟡ Pile I

Resilient & Emotional

Romantic & Deeply Intuitive

4 of Cups + 9 of Wands + 8 of Cups?! Babes, your future spouse has been through the wringer. they are a tough cookie. This is the kind of person who’s faced rejection, disappointments, and emotional letdowns that could make even a main character in a tragic romance novel say, "Damn, you good?" 😭 But instead of being bitter, they’ve built a fortress of emotional resilience around themselves. The 9 of Wands is telling me this person has been knocked down 100 times but got up 101—they don’t give up on life or love, even if they’ve been burned before. The 8 of Cups confirms that they’ve walked away from things that no longer serve them (toxic exes, dead-end jobs, situationships that made no sense—all of it). They’re not the type to dwell on "what could’ve been." Instead, they cut their losses and move forward.

This is someone you can depend on. When life gets tough, they’re not crumbling into a puddle of existential dread—they’re standing tall, supporting both of you. They know how to handle loss, hardship, and setbacks without bringing negativity into the relationship. Instead of complaining, they’ll problem-solve and protect your peace.

Okay, now let’s talk about the Knight of Cups—aka, the walking romance novel protagonist. This person is charm on legs, but in a deep, thoughtful way. They’re not love-bombing for funsies—they actually feel things intensely and express love with heartfelt actions and words. while they are romantic, they also have a depth that makes them super self-aware. They know real love isn’t about grand gestures alone—it’s about emotional connection. So while they might not be showering you with gifts every five seconds, best believe they’ll know exactly when you’re feeling off and how to comfort you without even being asked.

They’ll write you long-ass texts about how much they love and appreciate you🥺. They’re the type to listen to your late-night yapping and actually remember what you said. They have a poetic way of expressing love, even if they don’t try to be poetic, they just naturally speak in soft boy/girl energy. MY TYPE MY TYPE MY TYPE😭

This person doesn’t do "surface-level love." They love in a way that FEELS SAFE—like you can fully be yourself without judgment. No breadcrumbs, no mixed signals—just pure, heart-centered love. Your future spouse is giving "strong but soft" energy. They’re emotionally intelligent, resilient, and romantic, and they don’t play about their love life. They will love you deeply, protect your peace, and keep the romance alive—all while being a grounded, stable, and emotionally evolved partner. ✨ You won’t have to second-guess this connection. They’re mature, romantic, and strong-willed—a whole package deal. 🥹

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⊹₊⟡ Pile II

The "Master Strategist With 3000 IQ" Energy

The "Zen AF, But Knows When to Strike" Energy

Okay, listen—this person does NOT make impulsive decisions. The 2 of Wands + The Hanged Man combo? This is the chess master of life. They calculate everything, they analyze their next steps like they’re planning world domination, and they don’t move unless they’re absolutely 100% sure it’s the right decision.

They’re not the type to rush into things—whether it’s a relationship, a career move, or even a casual Friday night out ("What’s the vibe? Who all is gonna be there?"—yeah, they need to know first 💀). The Hanged Man energy tells me that they take their sweet time weighing all the options, and the 2 of Wands? That just screams "I’ve got a vision, and I’m making it happen."

They strategize, they plan, and when they commit, they COMMIT. They won’t be the type to rush into things, but the second they decide, "Yeah, this is my person," it’s game over for everyone else.

What this means for you? No confusion, no mixed signals – You will always know where you stand. They will plan your future together – And I mean, really plan it. This is the person who will randomly say, "Hey, do you want to move to Paris in five years? I’ve already looked into real estate options. They don’t do dumb drama – If problems come up, they handle them maturely and efficiently (and probably before you even notice). They are your safe place – Because their whole aura just screams "I got this, don’t worry."

This person is unbothered and calm 95% of the time. They have this aura of serenity and wisdom that makes you feel so at peace when you’re around them. But that 5%? That’s when they see someone messing with you, and suddenly, you realize... oh, they could actually destroy a person if they wanted to. 👀

You will feel SAFE and protected at all times – They’re not aggressive, but they are calculating AF. Anyone who disrespects you? They’re already mentally plotting the most strategic way to make that person regret their existence. You get the best of both worlds – A partner who is peaceful and chill, but also deadly if necessary. It’s like dating a hot mastermind who meditates but could also lead an army.

They will never embarrass you with childish fights – They know how to shut down drama with just one sentence ("That’s an interesting perspective. Too bad it’s wrong.") and keep it moving.

WHEW the most FICTIONAL PARTNER EVERRR. This is the type of love that makes people jealous because it’s just so stable, deep, and fulfilling. This person is smart, protective, emotionally intelligent, and devoted—honestly, what more could you ask for? 😭They are the calm before AND after the storm, the architect of your dream life, and the silent but deadly protector who will love you with the power of a thousand well-thought-out strategies. And let’s be real… dating them is basically winning at life.

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⊹₊⟡ Pile III

Hardworking & Devoted

Fearless in love

This pile is the MOST romantic of all three.

Ohhhh, you are about to marry someone who does NOT play when it comes to their goals.This is giving "I put in the time, I put in the effort, and I get RESULTS." Since they’re naturally hardworking and disciplined, they approach relationships with the same level of commitment and strategy they bring to their personal goals.

They’re not the kind of person who gets discouraged easily. If something takes time, they understand that’s just part of the process. They trust the grind, and they know that as long as they keep working, keep improving, and stay consistent, they will get to where they want to be. (The type to be in the gym every day, rain or shine, because discipline > motivation💀.) They’re insanely reliable—if they say they’ll do something, THEY WILL. They probably have a strong work ethic—career-driven, passionate, maybe even a little obsessed with self-improvement.You will never have to second-guess if they’re serious about you, because once they decide to invest in something (or someone 👀), they are in it for the long haul. This is the type of partner who builds an empire with you. This person has BIG main character energy—they embrace life with open arms and are always down for an adventure. They don’t get stuck in endless “what-ifs.” Instead, they’re like "Screw it, let’s do it."

Okay, so here’s the fun part—this person? Totally the type to act all logical and practical, but deep down? THEY ARE A SOFTIE. 😭

Hey do romantic things without realizing it – You’ll casually mention something you like once, and BOOM, two weeks later, they surprise you with it (and play it off like it’s no big deal). Sir/Ma’am, just admit you’re obsessed already.🤓 Their love language is thoughtful actions – Expect things like fixing something before you even ask, getting your coffee just the way you like it, or remembering the exact way you like your blanket tucked in at night. It’s the small details for them.

They have that “quiet but deep” love – They’re not the type to scream “I love you” in public, but the way they look at you, protect you, and always think of you first? UGH. Heart-melting levels of devotion. They are soft for YOU and YOU ONLY – The world sees them as chill, independent, and maybe even a little reserved… but the moment they’re with you? They turn into human teddy bear.

They’d never admit it, but you are their weakness, and honestly, That’s HOT.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[thesirencult]

Messages For The Divine Feminine 222

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Dear Divine Feminines,

I've never felt called before to share this kind of message as I was always skeptical abaout collective messages and saw them as nonsense. This evening though, while doing a personal tarot reading I felt the energy of two important Divine Feminine archetypes: Aphrodite and Cleopatra.

As I was wrapping up my reading I felt called to share some messages with fellow Divine Feminines on their journey to ascension and spiritual fulfillment.

Think about tomorrow as the first day of a new life. If you want to welcome the new you have to let go of old stories and negative beliefs who are holding you back from reaching your true potential. New perspectives are opening up and the truth is available for you to uncover.

You've strayed away from your path and got carried away by attaching yourself to your current situation. You forgot that your goal should be manifesting your heart's desires and not getting stuck on emotional rollercoasters. You hold the reigns. Detaching from the situation doesn't mean letting go of a beautiful vision of the finale, it means not paying attention to the immediate responses of your environment. Also have this in mind when it comes to your relationship with your destined Divine Masculine.

You are choosing yourself now. You are choosing your own vision of a better future. You're crafting the grand finale! Remember, you are currently living in the energy you seeded yesterday, so if you want a better tomorrow start with "good seeds" now. Congratulations, you have cut the cord and cracked the code of what manifestation and alignment means. Don't destroy tomorrows dreams by analyzing them from the viewpoint of yestarday's broken thoughts. You are more powerful than that.

Hoarding won't bring you results. On the contrary, sharing yourself and your gifts with others and being generous with your time and energy will yield better results. This will help your energy flourish. Growing means being generous with the fruits of wisdom. Stop trying to "save yourself" from the future because it scares you, the future is much better than you think and you're just self-sabotazing. You are safe. This tower moment was needed because it is better to build on solid foundation. Goddess wants you to know that your Divine Masculine is also undergoing the same process. No, when I'm saying Divine Masculine I'm not talking about the dusty next door, but about your true pure soul connection, the one that demands growth and love from you, not hate, frustration and games. These are low vibrational connections. Games won't work when it comes to soulful connections. Drop the mask and share yourself bare... Step into the mindset of abundance. You're enough, you are safe and you have enough love to be vulnerable with it.

When it comes to your love life, you're currently learning to believe in love. You are in the energy of manifestation, mid-manifesting. You next connection will be a soul connection. You're NEW to this, cut yourself some slack. Focus on how you can grow and prepare for them. Your person will love the fact you're both learning how to love eachother properly, they won't make fun of your eager nature or you trying to do better, they ar eon the same boat.

Think about what YOU want, feel it and give it a shape. Create the mold and the Goddess will fill it in. Do not try to fit the clay in the mold. Even if you are in a relationship with your true soul connection know that he is and he becomes the product of your manifestation. Create the mold. Create the mold and they will follow. The situation holds lots of potential to grow into something beautiful-if you let it unfold. Roses bloom when the time is right, the moon holds different shapes each night, time runs in circles and cycles, cosmic timing...

Trust. Time, faith and belief are the solutions to your problems. How can the seed of love grow inside you? How are you going to water it? Are you even watering it my gorgeous Divine Feminine? Work your way up and let yourself grow into the ideal state of love. Let your vision of love adapt and change.

In a pure soul connection each one builds on the work of the other. A sacred entaglement of two equals with a common goal. Both alternate between leading and being lead. Swaying in the dance of mutually beneficial promises. If you want your love life to heal, seek to be helpful, seak to lead spiritually. Together you will bring to life something much greater than what you would create alone.

My Divine Feminine, let go of your doubts, accept yourself as a whole, mind-body and soul and water your potential.

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 68 + shima analysis // spoilers

acceptance of the monster: how facing the past is necessary when the goal is a brighter future

i think that those who have been following me for a while have seen all my analyses and random insights about shima. i have immense affection for him and he will always be one of my favorite characters ever. and chapters like this remind me of how important he is in my life. 

chapter 68 is very straight to the point, but it also hides some small and big changes that started to bubble up from previous chapters. for the first time, we no longer have small, not very explicit scenes from shima's memories or him being so afraid of finally facing the past: now we have the naked truth, laid out in front of us, so that we can understand a little more about how the childhood that shaped shima's entire life until now was.

unlike what i imagined, i didn't get angry with taiga now that he was introduced. of course, i don't think his actions were right or that he didn't influence shima in a negative way, but his appearance at that moment served as both a salvation and a tragedy for shima's life.

there are many layers to be analyzed. we know very, very little about taiga, but we can understand that he didn't have a very good relationship with his family either — the moment he talks about his parents' disappointment in him for giving up acting shows us that he was probably also forced to do something he didn't want to do. he is also the result of a desire imposed on him, causing him to rebel as the years went by.

in a way, meeting shima is like meeting your past self. i don't see much evil in his actions or see it as something malicious. i think he recognized in shima's face the same nervousness that he himself felt every time before his rehearsal, thus proposing that he also have an act of rebellion to feel a little freer.

however, the evil of all this is that taiga, without knowing anything, ends up entering shima's life at a time when he is most fragile and hurt by everything he has been facing (whether it be his abusive relationship with his mother or his growing fear of acting). shima sees taiga as an equal, someone who understands all the pain he has faced but managed to escape from it, while he’s still a prisoner. he sees the older boy as an inspiration, as a friend he longed for, who would show him what a life away from cameras and rehearsals would be like.

shima is still too young to understand everything that is happening around him, and too young to see any kind of problem in following his new friend. having a destructive act at a time of such fragility gives him a certain strength, because he understands this as the only way he has to face his mother and go against everything that is imposed on him. going out with taiga, even if secretly, is a message to his mother: you no longer have control over me.

unfortunately, we have known the result of these escapades for a long time. ririka, also worried about shima, decides to follow him and ends up being targeted by several online attacks. even though shima was the one who “took” her there, ririka, a beautiful and successful girl, is the perfect target.she is the one who suffers the direct consequences, and of course this is closely linked to the sexism that is rooted in society and how much people wait for a girl to make a small mistake so that they can destroy her in some way (i talk more about this in my exclusive ririka analysis).

now shima no longer has to face just two monsters: they have now multiplied into a thousand, becoming even stronger. the consequences of his rebellion come in an aggressive form, with his mother’s abuse and the new tarnished image he obtained in his artistic circle. his mother’s anxiety comes from the fact that shima would no longer get big roles, either because of this transgression or because he missed so many rehearsals, which did not lead to any improvement in terms of acting. blinded by all the anger she feels inside, shima's mother's direct response is no other than to attack her son.

child abuse is extremely common in the arts, whether by parents, the press, the public or co-workers. shima is just one of many young actors who have had to suffer the wrath of a parent who is disappointed by a dream that they themselves forced their children to have. and of course, this would result in years of being afraid to be who they are, to speak out and to live a normal life without carrying immense guilt. the prison that he has placed himself in for all these years is the evolution of the bonds imposed by his mother.

the turning point does not happen in this chapter itself, but in a sequence of long events that led him to where he is. it is impossible for shima to change overnight: it takes a lot of work and a lot, but a lot of analysis (even if it is self-analysis) to finally understand and be able to heal all this pain that he has been held hostage by for so many years. and the second part of the chapter shows exactly that.

shima is no longer afraid to face the monster of the past because he is no longer alone. he finally understands that there are people around him who care about him and fight to stay by his side. having people's support and love gives him the strength to move forward and continue this arduous battle of growing up. shima now understands what it is to be loved to the point of being happy about a past fight, as it resulted in an even closer relationship with mitsumi. he understands that being loved is being able to look back on the past and no longer feel pain or guilt, but to recognize the one who suffered so much, with no one by his side.

he now takes on the role of the monster, but no longer to affirm his guilt, but to be able to show his past self and all the other monsters around him how it is possible for him to be happy. how it is possible to decide things for yourself and follow your heart. how it is possible to love so many people and be loved in return. how it is possible to look at a person and feel an immense warmth, an inexplicable desire to keep fighting, all so that he can be by their side. 

shima is finally reaching out to his past self, so that they can form a new future together.

before i finish, i would also like to touch on an important point that i see the possibility of being discussed in the future: shima's current relationship with his mother. chapter 67 brought something very important, which was shima's recognition when he admitted that he felt a certain pity for his mother, due to all the comments he heard about her. deep down, he feels a certain empathy for his mother and no longer sees her as an unbeatable villain. he has been slowly trying to change his relationship with her, and the first step is to invite her to watch the play he chose to be in. this in my opinion shows shima's desire to forgive his mother in order to move on, but also seek some kind of forgiveness from her (which can be a result of many years of manipulation, since he still thinks he is guilty for a lot of his mother’s pain). i feel that we will still see a type of closeness between them and a deeper conversation, so that shima can finally feel like he belongs to a family again. this can be a triggering moment to a lot of readers, so if it does happen, please be mindful of it. 

the layers that not only this chapter but this whole new arc has are much deeper than we imagine. building a character requires love, patience and conversation. you need to listen and understand what your character wants. respect is needed so that the story can grow. takamatsu misaki has a huge affection for her characters, for her story and for everything she has been building since 2018.

we're so lucky to be able to follow such amazingly beautiful story.

thank you so much for reading ����💛!! don't forget to support sensei if you can! always here to discuss more about the chapter!

[columbusfirefighterdiaz]

Even before Buck answered his question, Eddie knew what he was going to say. This was Buck. Of course he was going to say yes to taking care of someone. Just as the cliché goes, this is a man that would literally give his shirt off of his back for a stranger. Eddie had actually seen it for himself a couple of times. Buck's generous nature was one of the many things that Eddie loved about the other man, but it also was one of the things that made Eddie worry about him as well. It was a trait that people could take advantage of, and there were a few times that Eddie had to second guess his own actions to made sure he didn't do that as well.

That was the predicament that Eddie currently found himself in. He desperately wanted to ask a favor, and calling it a favor didn't seem to do it justice, which he knew Buck would most likely say yes to. However, Eddie wanted to make sure Buck agreed to it for the right reason because what he wanted to ask would forever change the nature of their relationship. And while Eddie had dreamed of evolving their relationship into something else, preferably something romantic, he wasn't sure if now was the right time to even attempt to pursue it. While he had six months to adjust to being single, Eddie wasn't even sure if things were 'officially' over with Buck and Tommy. It seemed like it was, but that could all just be wishful thinking on his part.

After all these months of analyzing every detail of his life and knowing how good it felt to finally get the confirmation that he was indeed gay earlier tonight, Eddie wasn't sure if he could put confirming one more thing off too much longer. While going to a club and getting a stranger to fuck him was one thing, there was no way he'd ever trust a stranger or even an acquaintance to dom him. In fact, there was only one person in the entire world that he would trust to do that, and that person just so happened to be sitting on the couch with him.

Before he could think himself out of it, Eddie decided to just shoot his shot. "I'm going to ask you something else, but before you say anything, I want you to actually think about it first. I know I'm probably asking way to much of you, and this will probably change our whole relationship, so if it makes you at all uncomfortable, I want you to be honest with me and tell me. I'm not going to think any differently of you if you do say no... But, as I told you earlier, I'm wondering if I'd be better suited as a sub. The only way I'm ever going to know if that's true is if I actually submit to someone. You're pretty much the only person I'd ever feel comfortable being that vulnerable around though, so would you ever consider doing a scene with me? I know the timing is horrible since you're still probably technically with Tommy, and you just find out that I'm gay and single, so again, it's totally fine if you say no..." Eddie knew he was rambling, which was something he never did, but it just seemed like once he made his mind up that he was going to ask Buck, the words just rushed out of his mouth before he could think about them. Finally, he forced himself to stop talking and took a big swig of his beer as he let Buck process what all had just happened.

If Buck thought that the brief intermission to grab another couple beers would be a good soft reset on the intense feelings coursing through him, he was only correct for a minute or two. The beer was refreshingly cold down his throat but nowhere near enough to take edge off the heat that felt like it was flushing his whole body. His body had gone through quite the little rollercoaster in the last few hours and as comfortable as he was around Eddie at all times, that was more on an emotional level right about now. And anyway, "uncomfortable" is not a word he'd use for the keyed up feeling he had simmering.

The second beer was half gone by the time he cradled it near his chest, against his neck idly. It gave him goosebumps, made his nipples stiffen under the sheer white button up, and while he wouldn't describe it as good, it was probably needed. If he was going to get so heated that he accidentally poured his heart out when Eddie very much didn't need to be dealing with anyone else's feelings, it was the right move.

Buck almost answered automatically, because the answer was on his tongue before it had even fully formed in his head, but he miraculously was able to stay his tongue, in what to him felt like a Herculean feat in retrospect, but the way Eddie asked it... answering automatically felt like the wrong move. The way he asked made Buck feel he needed to be very deliberate with his answer, so as to not be seen as flippant or not really knowing what he was saying. Turning his head, he held Eddie's gaze for a moment, though his eyes did briefly dip to look at the other man's lips, moistened from the drink. He licked his own lips in reaction before flicking his gaze back up.

When he spoke, his voice was deep, quiet, sure. "Of course I would. I hope you know I would. You're one of the, if not the most, important person to me. I wouldn't let you doubt that."

[sweetmoons]

Narratively how do you think the QSMP should end?

Obviously this is VERY far away (thankfully, I'm too invested) but I was thinking about the story of the QSMP and what potential endings it could have. Do you guys want a happy ending where everyone leaves the island with the eggs? Or maybe a more tragic ending? Or if you think every character and egg should have their own personal ending like Q!Max, what ideas do you have? I JUST WANNA HEAR YALLS THOUGHTS IM SO CURIOUS

[bread-that-draws]

Flowey’s so funny and has me so fucked up like he’s a talking flower. He tries to kill you upon your first interaction. He is ten years old. He is damaged beyond repair. He’s a flower named Flowey. He’s become friends with every single character. He’s killed all of them countless times. He knows everything about everyone. He doesn’t care anymore. He takes care of his mom when she can’t take care of herself. He’s killed her before. He doesn’t care if you kill her. He thinks she’s trying to replace him. He just wants to be himself again. He wants to destroy everything. He hates you. You’re the only one who understands him. He wants his best friend back. He’s terrified of them. He believes in kill or be killed because he died by giving mercy to the wrong person. He believes himself to be the wrong person. He doesn’t understand when you show him that kindness he showed others, even when you know he could kill you for it. He’s tried every route. He asks you if you have anything better to do when you try to do the same. He’s a direct reflection of the player. He’s a fucking talking flower named flowey and his only voice line is by Ronald McDonald and his officially licensed plush does a little dance for you

[spacedlexi]

maybe if i just put these screenshots together youll understand why i think their relationship just Works so well as it pertains to the characters and themes of S4 in general

neither of them know what theyre doing, but theyre figuring it out Together. the old ways are dead. and together theyll build a new future thats worth fighting for

[daincrediblegg]

personally I think the best thing that the joker sequel did for me was expose the exact degree to which how much of internet/public criticism is not based on genuine analysis of the content using social and cultural resources to support an actual argument but is actually adult children whining because someone took their batman toys and put them up on a high shelf for once and they, as a consumer, feel like they're entitled to throw a tantrum about it

[jambo-rat]

I need to subject you all to my analysis on Odysseus and specifically the line " I see a man who makes it home alive, but it's no longer you " in " No longer you "

Cutting for Wisdom Saga spoilers, and also it's fairly sad. With the accompaniment of my theory on what the last bit says in ' No longer you '

OKAY SO

Odysseus has changed in many ways from " No Longer You ". He finally decided he would become a monster to make it home to his wife and son. He made the choices he could to make sure as many people could make it home (like sacrificing 6 men to Scylla so the rest could survive.) he's tired and worn, both physically and mentally. But he can't rest until he makes it home. Everytime he let himself rest something has gone wrong. So when the God of Thunder tells him to either kill himself or kill his crew. Be changes. Not only was he betrayed AGAIN from Eurylochus in the entirety of Mutiny, but now he has to make the choice to kill his brother. It changes a man.

If the lyrics really ARE " Island Love ". We hear how worn Odysseus is in " Love in Paradise ". He still hasn't let himself rest, because this Goddess is tormenting him. Not only that, but he is haunted. He is haunted by his crew, his friends, his brothers. Even his mother. Before he couldn't close his eyes because he would see them. But now all he wants to do is close his eyes. He's all but given up. He's accepted he can't see Penelope. This Island is his end.

I don't know about you but ever since those really intense suicidal thoughts I have changed. Now I was given a second chance I fight harder. He hasn't gotten his second chance yet, but he's about to, with the Goddess of Wisdom "risking her life" for him.

[airenyah]

Hey so do you know where I could find this acting manifesto of yours?

I usually try and avoid publicly expressing my opinion on things like this but I recently saw some people commenting negatively on his acting again and I’m starting to doubt my own judgement.

I’ve truly never had a huge problem with his acting but I keep seeing people using really harsh words to describe his prior and current work. I genuinely think he’s doing a good job in THK but these comments sometimes make me think I’m missing something.

That conflicts with the fact I know at least three people he worked with on THK specifically had positive things to say about his acting too and I trust people who do this for a living to know what they’re talking about for the most part.

I guess I’m just looking for your post to have a more detailed perspective of the opposite viewpoint to “he’s a terrible actor” to help affirm some of my thinking so I’m more confident in my positive opinion of his acting.

Overall though I’m enjoying everyone in this show but for me I’m specifically enjoying the four mains the most. Kudos to them honestly.

(Disclaimer: Obviously everyone is entitled to their opinion but the harshness of some of the opinions took me off guard a little.)

fuck these people. they don't know shit.

(mind you. this manifesto was written based on his performance in just star in my mind and hidden agenda. his 2024 shows weren't even out at that point. in fact, thk hadn't even been publicly announced yet. you can see from the start there is talent in this boy if you actually know what to look out for)

bonus: i rant some more in the last reblog

[xlivr]

alexis vi and Allyssa the selfhsip fairies istG

[good-beanswrites]

Hi Beans, I’m finally here. Diluting the sad with fun and very OOC.

I don’t really have a lot of ideas about what to write, but I remembered that I shared my idea of Es with the chivalrous Argenti's personality. So. AU in a vacuum (maybe an actors AU, maybe not), where Es thought that it would be funny to surprise the prisoners with the behavior of a knight(maybe Jackalope came up with that idea, maybe just strange sense of humor). What about the prisoners' reactions? (gallantry and compliments to plants attached) I think Mahiru would have joined the drive even if she didn’t really understand what happened. Fuuta would probably say "ugh, cringe" and that would make him a great target for the rest of the day.

YESS ahahaha, this is such a fun idea! I wrote a little scene with a few characters, but honestly it's hysterical picturing any of them trying to figure out how to react to this new and sparkling Es... I went for a version where not even Jackalope was prepared, but I can certainly see him suggesting something crazy like that to shake things up omg. Thank you so much for the request! The original meme was made by Mug, and I couldn't help but do a doodle myself ✨🌹

Amane was the first to witness it. She fled as soon as possible, finding sanctuary in the common room. The others were surprised as she stumbled in, face pale and eyes wide. Very little could frighten the girl; it was not a good sign.

Yuno moved to comfort her. “What’s wrong?” 

Her eyes went distant with the harrowing memory. “It’s Es,” was all she said. 

“Did they do something cruel?”

“No. Worse.” Amane shivered. “They were… nice.”

“They were what?”

Amane opened her mouth, but paused at the sound of heels clicking down the hallway. 

She stiffened. “If you need me you can find me in my cell.” She disappeared as quickly as she came. The others, who had been listening in on the odd conversation, gaped after her. They tried to piece together what had been so unsettling. Still, Es’ boots approached. 

All eyes landed on the doorway. 

And Es appeared. They looked very normal. Jackalope hopped up behind them. All shoulders sagged in relief. Es surveyed the room, slightly surprised to find everyone staring. 

Then, they smiled. 

It was a genuine, bright smile. The blue-gray of their eyes sparkled with a new light. Their lips parted to release a lighthearted laugh, unlike anything the prisoners had heard from them before.

They glided through the room, heels clicking lightly behind them until they came to Muu. The others stood frozen in place.

Es swept their cape aside with a grand flourish of their arm. They held both her hand and her gaze with warmth.

“Why, hello, Muu! You’re looking as positively lovely as always. Has this fine morning treated you well?”

“Um…” She looked to everyone, her face pleading for a little guidance. They were too busy looking eagerly to her in astonishment. “Uh… yes?”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” They reached behind themself. The room let out a soft gasp as they produced a pale pink flower from underneath their cape.

“For you, my dear.”

They didn’t wait for her to finish stuttering a confused ‘thank you’ before they turned to whoever was standing closest. Mahiru’s own face lit up as Es turned their glimmering gaze her way. Fuuta scoffed, muttering something about this being the lamest, cringiest thing he’d witnessed. Es pretended not to hear.

“Shiina Mahiru… a smile like yours is rare to find in a place like this. I thank you for it.” They pinched their chin and angled their head, thinking. “The meaning of your name has to do with light, correct?” 

She nodded, unable to keep the giddiness from her face. The others watched as Es moved their glove behind once more. Surely there was no room for any more flowers hidden there…

Surely they were all mistaken – Es flicked their wrist to present a small gathering of yellow blooms.

“Something radiant for someone as bright as you.”

She fell over herself with gratitude and giggles. She tried to tuck it into her hair, and Mikoto stepped over to help her. The pair raised their eyebrows at each other in disbelief. 

This time, Es retrieved their gift before turning to their next victim. A classic red rose. They caught a prisoner’s gaze. 

“Oh, no. Nope. No way.” Fuuta held up his hands, as if it could ward them off. “I don’t want your stupid-ass flowers.” 

“Now, now, I see you’re playing hard to get, as usual.” They brushed their thumb along the thorny stem. “You know, the rose has a very similar approach.”

Fuuta’s face now matched the flower’s color. “Wha–” He stumbled backward, then took off running to the door. “I don’t know what weird mind games you’re trying to pull, but I’m staying out of it!” 

Es only clicked their tongue gently when he disappeared. “Always making things difficult, that one. All part of his charm, I suppose.” 

They followed to the entrance. Turning briefly, they flashed their smile once more.“It was wonderful to see you all! I will await our next meeting eagerly.” 

With a fluttery wave, they vanished. 

Everyone’s attention shot to Jackalope, who had paused in the doorway. No one could understand his voice, but his little rabbit face seemed to say, Hey, don't look at me. I have no fucking idea.

[monodive]

.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

i think it's about time that we acknowledge that, no, that character would Not change their name in a groupchat! especially not to that. and, no, that character would not change everyone else's names! especially not to that.

[mymp3]

I had a lot of the same issues with reload as I see you’re having, and I do think most of it is from the new team’s inexperience. They’re trying to recreate a game that made very purposeful decisions in its mechanics and cutscenes without understanding why those decisions were made, which really undermines the experience.

If the team had more experience under their belt, or had full creative decision on an entirely new game, I feel like they could make a really good game! Reload is not that though.

I completely agree anon. It's a shame too, because it's not an awful game, just a different one. I wish they hadn't tried to recreate FES as a test project on a shoestring budget when it was literally the benchmark for our modern Persona games. It changed so much, it's iconic, a cult classic.

I really wish they wouldn't have lied about not planning EpiAi beforehand so they could cover the fact that the game doesn't look all too good. I wish they hadn't charged $200 for an "Aigis Edition" and not include the dlc. I wish they hadn't sanitized and scrubbed the game about death and grieving of all things that were slightly upsetting. That's what ended up happening though, and as you said, they're trying to recreate a game that was very purposeful in its creation.

Reload was a cheap quick test that they knew would work because it has a wonderful story and dedicated fans. As long as they make it a fun popcorn game, they don't have to put in those purposeful additions or think about it much at all.