#in the way of like he thinks he's so naturally funny that he doesn't have to try

[kelparty]

Madoka Magica x Arcane parallels

I keep saying it, but I'll say it again: JAYCE/ HOMURA PARALLELS IN ARCANE SEASON 2? MORE LIKELY THAN YOU'D THINK!

I love Madoka Magica, I love Arcane, and I can't stop drawing connections in my mind about how Jayce and Homura, despite being very different people in very different settings, go through a very similar situation. So, here are all the ways that Homura and Jayce parallel each other, and where the biggest difference lies!

1- Both Homura and Jayce spent a great deal of time and effort trying to save someone dear to them, defying the laws of nature without thinking twice (and ruining their own lives in the process). Homura traps herself in a time loop for Madoka, defying time and fate, and Jayce turns to the arcane for help to revive Viktor, against the law of nature. They put aside everything else for those two, chasing an end goal that is doomed from the start.

2- Both do this with single-minded focus and without thinking about possible consequences, which ends up leading to more pain for the very people they're trying to save in the long run. Each one of Homura's attempts to save Madoka tied more and more karmic strings around her, ultimately sealing her fate. In hastily using the hexcore to save Viktor, Jayce ends up fusing him to it, which permanently changes him, physically and mentally, in ways he would never have agreed to before.

3- Both Homura and Jayce have to face their loved ones leaving them behind and ascending to Godhood, against all of their attempts to save them and make everything go back to how it used to be. And although both Viktor and Madoka had noble goals in mind and were doing what they thought would be best for everyone, Viktor is misguided in his ideal of evolution, while Madoka is actually vindicated by the narrative. Also, Viktor's change comes less of his own will, while hers is entirely her own. Also 2, both have that ethereal space imagery tied to their God forms. Funny.

The conclusion reached by Homura and Jayce differs. Since Madoka was a benevolent force, Homura's defiance of her will is a selfish act, and she becomes a villain by the end of Rebellion. She decides she doesn't care what it takes, as long as she can still have Madoka, with no regard for her own feelings. But Viktor's actions were wrong, so the moral thing to do was stop him, and Jayce is in the right at the end of their story. He finally accepts his own mistakes and is able to help Viktor, and chooses to face the consequences of their actions alongside him.

Homura can't accept this ending after chasing after a goal for so long, while Jayce finally understands what he had to do, and embraces it. They parallel each other in their stories, but arrive at different conclusions; That is why Homura is a villain, while Jayce found redemption. Thanks for listening to my insane raving, I had a blast writing this.

[s-e-v-e-n-24]

Hello hi friend (@knight-says-nanana) recently made this post referencing our conversation on Jervis Tetch having Wonderland nicknames for everyone but with actual Meaning to it, and I am here to share my List of them

Edward Nygma/Riddler - Dormouse

Not only could he physically resemble a dormouse (Shorter, they tend to have reddish brown/Orange coats I think?), but again, it's more about the sleepiness. The Dormouse is depicted as asleep/Always falling asleep, and only really waking up to correct Alice. Jervis's likely first or longest first meeting with Ed would be in Arkham. Arkham, where his cell has been shown to have "Keep sedated" on it

Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow - March Hare

A hare matches Jon's aesthetic. Long gangly creepy looking bunny. Typically depicted with straw on his head. It's cute if Jervis refers to him as "My dear Hare". March Hare and Hatter are friends!

And also the Hare is routinely depicted as nerve wrecked or delirious, and in adaptations, often dies or suffers

Harley Quinn - Queen of Hearts

The red and black look, the cards aesthetic already there. Plus, Queen of Hearts is childish, bad tempered, quick to overreact, very feared character (Also has a mallet). And also rarely Actually executed people. This one does play on the negatives more, due to the fact she's an antagonist (More obstacle for Alice to clear) But the queen Does have some better traits

Selina Kyle/Catwoman - Cheshire Cat

Obvious, only major cat themed rogue, but Does have deeper implications. Cat dissapears often and without a trace, seemingly or literally invisible, can go places most do not dare to. And also friendly with both the protagonist and antagonist characters. Inherently chaotic neutral force. It does what it wants for it's own entertainment. It may like Alice and act sorta as a guide sometimes, but that in no way means it sticks on her side

Hugo Strange - Gryphon

Somewhat overbearing, dismissive of the obsession and Sorrow of other characters, says they have no fact. Orders around Mock Turtle. This may not fit the greatest, but I like it

The Batman - The Jabberwock

Some unknown and all around feared cryptid? Yeah makes sense

Oswald Cobblepot/Penguin - Dodo

Flightless bird depicted with a cane. Odd, but good natured. Mostly. Does try to burn down a house as a solution to Alice being stuck in it. Organizes the Caucus races. The Dodo character/Races are meant as a critic on systems that lack clarity and decisiveness, who's actions are ultimately unhelpful or pointless

Now there are a couple I'm not entirely sure about yet. It's actually suprisingly hard to make everything fit well

Victor Fries/Mr. Freeze - White Rabbit

Because. He. Y'know. Is running out of time? I do like this one, mostly cause it's a lil funny to me. And also Freeze is mostly only an antagonist to work for his goal, the Rabbit is only "antagonist" Because he has to work for the Queen

Basil Karlo/Clayface - Mock Turtle

Melancholic, sad that it's no longer a real turtle/Just a turtle

Pamela Isely/Poison Ivy - King of Hearts/The Flowers

She is So hard to pin down. I could say Kimg of Hearts to match Harley (Moderate, calm, the one that pardons the subjects, calms the queen, later revealed just as juvenile and willing to execute), or, I could go with the flowers to match her vibe. I really do not know

Waylon Jones/Killer Croc - Jabberwocky/Duchess

Kinda hate both of these for him. Jabberwock because. The obvious. Duchess kinda due to starting off nice to the queen, then transitioning to friendly and respectful with Alice. Major temper (Nervously agressive) but not inherently bad even though she starts/Is Queen aligned?

Harvey Dent/Two Face - Tweedle Dee & Dum/The Walrus & The Carpenter

Tweedle Dee and Dum seem like the obvious answer but I kinda hate it so much. It doesn't feel like it fits and kinda feels insulting. Nothing Truly fits Two Face. Walrus and Carpenter is the closest I got. Walrus (Two Face?) The leader, conniving moocher, con man, yet hopeful of the future. Carpenter (Harvey?), believes getting an honest job will be better, still goes along with the plan, acts before he thinks, quick to anger

Joker - King of Hearts/Knave of Hearts

King to match Harley but also I dislike most adaptations so mm. Knave because he's a coward/j

[cheshiresense]

Oh my God, you mentioned wanting to write a thing about when Starrk finally let's his reiatsu out, and honestly, I've been thinking about that so much!!! Like here is Starrk, who has been keeping his reiatsu down to around average, who sleeps all the time, so doesn't stand out, who stands beside Ichigo, Ichigo who crazy stands out, also Starrk who joins the 4th, the 4th who everyone else considers to be weaklings!! You imagine the look on everyone's face the first time he let's lose!?! Maybe some bullying goes too far, and Starrk, who nobody thinks much of, just smacks them down hard!!! And everyone is like WTF lol 😆

sorry, I just love the idea of when people realize that Starrk is actually strong like Ichigo!! So 😁 funny!! Anyway, thanks for sharing your thoughts about this. I love reading them.

Lol yes it's one of those scenes that you see happen in so many different ways and all of them would be fun. I'm undecided on how I want to do it Officially so I'm putting it off (or maybe I'll just write several of them lmao).

I imagine it would have to be very serious bullying for Starrk to take that much action, cuz like he really isn't the sort to step in for every little thing. If it happens to someone he considers one of his, he might note it down and then quietly go and prevent it from happening again from behind the scenes, but in real time, he'd rather diffuse the situation or leave it to the "victim" to handle it and only step in if it looks like they really can't, and even stepping in would just be a sharp word or two to run the bully off. He's not a straightforward bleeding heart the way Ichigo is, cuz the hit-the-problem-so-it's-no-longer-a-problem method is def Ichigo's go-to strategy, he would absolutely smack the shit out of someone bullying Asuka or Rangiku in front of him and be done with it right then and there, prob flaring his reiatsu without even meaning to cuz his control's a lot better these days but it's also kind of 0 to 50, well-hidden or flashing neon sign, no in-between unless he really concentrates 😂 It's another reason Starrk would have little reason of his own to act, cuz like Ichigo would absolutely beat him to it.

For me, I could prob imagine him unleashing his reiatsu/revealing his strength if someone's about to die and the threat is big enough that he actually has to flex. He's just not someone who'd easily show what he can do, and hiding it from the likes of Aizen and the Quincy wouldn't even be his top reason. It's more like lingering PTSD--his strength doesn't bother him anymore now that he's had years of proven control under his belt, and he's even needed every last bit of his power over the past decade of war, but subconsciously, he's still not 100% comfortable with just letting anyone feel it, even tho he has enough control now that it wouldn't hurt them unless he wants it to because what if? So like, his first instinct will always be to keep it locked down, and for minor stuff (altho minor is relative for him I guess lolol), pulling out that much power is def a last resort.

Again, it contrasts what Ichigo would do. Ichigo's just used to overkill. Like even before he got his powers, he learned that an overwhelming show of strength would solve most of his gangster-related problems very easily, plus he lived in a household where Isshin only backed off from kicking him into a wall or something by kicking first or kicking back. And then after he got his powers, it's not even really his fault that he internalized a "might is right" kind of mindset /points at the entire fucking SS invasion arc and honestly every arc after that/. And also he spent his first years of Shinigami-ing running around with an unsealed Zanpakutou and zero reiatsu control, being in a constant state of Shikai is natural for him, and (moving into this AU's headcanon territory) it took him several months into the Quincy War before he finally learned to seal it away and actually have other ways of fighting that isn't just flinging Getsuga Tenshous around. He uses Bankai the way other people use hand-to-hand combat or Kidou spells, so even now, his first instinct is to just hit the problem hard enough so that it won't get back up to do more harm, and for him, that applies to everything from schoolyard bullying to fighting monster-gods. And on top of all that, his actions are largely driven by emotion. More than anything else, his first reflex is to protect, and that often leads to him throwing way more power at a threat than he actually needs to. He knows how to be more subtle these days, but it's not his preferred method and def not a reflex either the way it is with Starrk.

Of course, Starrk also understands "might is right" just by dint of being a Hollow, but he's basically spent a thousand years as someone too strong for anyone to fuck with just by existing, so he doesn't have the same kind of exposure to physical conflict that Ichigo grew up with that would make violence his first instinct.

Aanndd omg this ran away from me lmao sorry, you get a speedrun analysis on Starrk and Ichigo instead 😅

TLDR I'm still not sure of any exact scenarios that would force Starrk to show his hand, I don't want to wait until a Sternritter shows up or a final showdown vs. Aizen happens because that would take forever before we get there (I mean I could just jump right in there since this isn't a whole fic, but in-universe-timeline-wise, I'd prefer it happening earlier), but it's difficult for me to imagine that something in everyday life or even just a Hollow extermination mission would be enough to make him reveal even a bit of what he can really do.

Case in point, if you remember that mission in SP canon where Shunsui brings Ichigo and Rangiku along on a mission into the Rukongai to gain experience, and Ichigo sees a Hollow about to attack Shinji who hadn't spotted it yet, but he also didn't want to leave Rangiku unprotected, he went straight for unsealing his Zanpakutou and basically hand-delivering a shopping list of unusual or downright unique abilities to Aizen via Gin. In this AU, if Starrk goes along, he would never do such a thing, and in fact, he'd stop Ichigo and just fire a damn Byakurai or something across the clearing and kill it that way. Even if Ichigo doesn't have the finesse to pull off a low-numbered Kidou spell on the fly, he could've chosen a higher-numbered one and that would've still revealed far less to Aizen than unsealing his Zanpakutou would. But again, subtlety isn't his strong suit. He now at least has the presence of mind to think about the consequence of leaping into the fray without thought, it would leave Rangiku wide open, but his first instinct is still to use overwhelming strength to protect the people he cares about.

In contrast, Starrk may be a soft touch compared to basically every other Hollow and quite a few Shinigami, but he has the maturity and just the general personality to go for the strategic option. He has a far more tactical mind, implied even in canon to rival Shunsui in that department, so rushing in just isn't in his nature.

The only other way imo is if someone just... asks. Reikaku (reiatsu-sensing) is a thing Shinigami learn. In canon people can sense exactly who's coming just by their reiatsu (if they know them), not just if they're a Shinigami or a Hollow or even a Human, but it doesn't really expand on how. So I imagine you have to have a good feel for the person's reiatsu, it's the same as my age headcanon for reiatsu, not only can someone halfway decent at sensing reiatsu be able to get an idea of the other person's age, they would also be able to recognize and associate that reiatsu signature with that person since everybody's is different, but obviously they would have to be exposed to it a few times to learn it. Starrk's reiatsu is very unique so once or twice would be enough, and I can see a situation where the kids might ask to feel it for that reason, or a mission might require the team leader to ask, etc. etc. So yeah, that's all I got.

[criminal-sen]

Warning: I've already made a post about this, I only know this bc I got INTENSE deja vu as I was typing, so uhhhh. Here, (re?)read thru my thoughts (again, probably?) on some silly little guys:D

Okay no one's even arguing about this, but if they ever do!!!! I will always defend Mayuri for stabbing Zaraki in Pernida fight. He quite literally saved his life by doing that, and Zaraki is honestly really fucking lucky to have the ONE guy there with the ability to paralyze, who was smart enough to intuit 'ah, it's attacking the nerves' and deploy it on time. Might be hard to admit, but he does deserve that little hero's welcome he gets at the end.

It IS pretty funny tho when you remember - Mayuri absolutely doesn't NEED to stab someone for the paralysis to work. I'm 99.9% sure he just needs to puncture the skin (and the .1% confusion is bc I don't think I've ever actually seen it used this way, as he VERY much likes to do. a stab. But iirc he does explain it during Uryu fight)

In conclusion: yes Mayuri saved Zaraki's life😌👏👏👏👏but☝️😬 he did it in the most pissy and bastardly way possible😈... ... and then, on TOP of that, did a VERY nerve-grating monologue about his associate's noble sacrifice, knowing full-well said associate could still hear him (right? I'm assuming? I mean, it doesn't rly make sense, but he could move his eye and he looked REAL mad so🤷‍♂️)... so uhhh. No u know what I think? I think he's ensuring Zaraki doesn't thank him, or feel even remotely iffy as to the nature of their relationship as fuck buddies rivals<3

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Heyy Nausicaa!!

I love all of your fics, you're an amazing writer!

So, could you do a fic about mop era James hetfield and the reader? They r best friends and the reader gets a bf and James doesn't like him bc he's toxic but the reader doens't see him as toxic. They get in a fight outside the bar she told James about her bf and James is drunk telling the reader how he could be a better bf than her current bf is. The fight ends when the reader starts walking to her bf's house and James runs to her bc he doens't want her to go there. Soo they walk to james' apartment. At the apartment James agrees to sleep on the couch so the reader coul sleep in his room. They go to sleep but James can't sleep so he sneaks in his bedroom where the reader is sleeping and lays next to her and cuddles her. The next morning they wake up in each others arms and the reader finally comes to her senses about her current bf that he's toxic. Then she breaks up with him over the phone. James is real happy and then they cuddle some more and then... Suprise suprise they get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 😏🤭

Thank you so much, I hope you like it!❤

Warnings: mature themes, sexual content, emotional intensity, toxic relationship,

Breaking Through

James Hetfield had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We’d been through it all together—the wild nights, the heavy conversations, the laughter, and even the silence that spoke louder than words. Our friendship had always been easy, natural, and unspoken in a way that felt comfortable. We didn’t need to say it, but we both knew we’d always have each other’s backs.

And then there was him. My boyfriend.

It started innocently enough, just a guy who caught my attention. At first, he seemed perfect—charming, funny, easygoing. We fit together, or so I thought. But James hated him. And that wasn’t something I was used to. James wasn’t a guy who hated easily. If anything, he gave people the benefit of the doubt. But not this guy. And at first, I didn’t get it. I thought he was just being overprotective. But the more I ignored his warnings, the more I started to feel it in my gut—something wasn’t right.

I should’ve listened to him.

Tonight, the tension had reached a breaking point. I found myself outside a bar, feeling a little too buzzed from the drinks I’d had, standing in front of James, ready to tell him everything about the latest drama in my relationship. I thought I could keep it casual, tell him I was fine, but James had other plans.

We stood under the glow of the streetlight, the night air crisp against my skin. James leaned against the brick wall of the bar, cigarette in hand, but he wasn’t smoking. He was just looking at me with those blue eyes that seemed to see straight through me.

“Hey,” I said, trying to break the silence.

“Hey,” he replied, flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. His gaze didn’t leave me. “What’s going on? You look... off.”

I shrugged, playing it off. “Just the usual stuff. My boyfriend’s being weird, but you know, it’s fine.”

James pushed off the wall, stepping closer. “You’re not fine, Y/N. I can see it. You’re not fine.”

I froze. There it was again—his ability to see straight through me. He always had it, but tonight, it hit differently.

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to mask the nerves in my voice.

“Don’t lie to me,” James said, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m your friend. I know when something’s wrong.” He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’re with him, but you’re not happy. Why are you staying in something that’s pulling you down?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. How could I explain it to him? How could I tell him that I didn’t want to face the truth? That maybe, just maybe, he was right?

“Y/N,” James continued, stepping closer again, his voice lower now, “You deserve better than this guy. He doesn’t care about you the way you think he does. I can see it, and you can too, if you’d just let yourself.”

I felt a lump form in my throat. “You don’t know him like I do, James. He’s not perfect, but he’s mine.”

James took a sharp breath. His expression was tight now, frustrated. “That’s the problem, Y/N. He’s dragging you down. And you deserve better than this. I care about you more than he ever will, and I’m not gonna sit here and watch you get hurt.”

His words landed like a slap, but they weren’t angry—just raw. And for the first time, I realized just how much he really meant it. This wasn’t about him wanting me for himself—this was about him wanting me to be happy, wanting me to be free from something that was suffocating me.

I stepped back, the words on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. My heart pounded, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

“You know I’m right,” James said quietly. “I could be a better boyfriend to you than he ever could.”

My breath caught. Was he serious? He had always been there for me—sure, he’d always been my friend—but this was different. This was… something else.

“James…” My voice faltered. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

But James shook his head, a frustrated, pained expression crossing his face. “I’m not drunk, Y/N. I’m not. I’m just telling you what I see. And what I see is you settling for someone who doesn’t care about you the way I do.”

I felt a sharp sting in my chest, my mind reeling. I had no idea how to respond, so instead of saying anything, I just turned away. The cold night air hit my face as I started walking, desperate to get away from the conversation, away from everything.

But James wasn’t having it. “Where are you going?” he called after me, his voice urgent.

I didn’t answer, just kept walking in the direction of my boyfriend’s house.

“Y/N, don’t do this,” he said, his footsteps loud behind me. “Don’t go there. Please.”

I felt my frustration rise. “I’m fine, James. I’m going to him. It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business,” he said, voice firm. “You’re my best friend. I care about you more than anything, and I won’t just stand by and watch you walk into a situation that’s gonna hurt you. I’m not letting you go there.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to process the weight of his words. Everything inside me wanted to keep going, to ignore what he was saying, but a part of me was scared. Scared of what I was doing, scared of what James was saying.

“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking a little. “Don’t go there. Please.”

I stopped walking, my body trembling with the weight of everything. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was scared. Scared of the relationship I was in, scared of how tangled I had gotten in something that wasn’t good for me.

I turned around slowly, looking at James. He was standing a few feet behind me, his hands clenched at his sides, his expression softening. For the first time in a long time, I saw it. The care, the love, the pure concern in his eyes.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I won’t go.”

James exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. Without a word, he started walking toward me. “I’ll take you back to my place. We’ll talk it through. I won’t let you go through this alone.”

When we reached his apartment, James didn’t push. He just opened the door and let me step inside. The familiarity of the space, the comfort of it, felt strange in the best way. I was used to this place, but tonight, it felt different.

“You can sleep in my room,” James said, gesturing toward the door. “I’ll take the couch. I won’t push you to talk if you don’t want to.”

I nodded, too emotionally drained to protest. I needed space, but I also needed comfort. I slipped into his room, wrapping myself in the warmth of his bed, but sleep didn’t come easily.

Eventually, I felt the bed shift. A warmth spread beside me, and I froze. I looked over my shoulder, and there he was—James, his face relaxed as he laid down beside me, his arm gently around my waist.

I didn’t pull away. I didn’t want to. It felt right. It felt safe. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe.

I closed my eyes and let myself rest, my mind swirling with everything that had happened, but somehow feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the window. I turned over slowly, and there he was—James, still holding me close, his arm wrapped around me protectively. For a moment, I just lay there, taking in the peacefulness of the moment.

I didn’t know how to put it into words, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. My relationship had been toxic. I had known about it for a while, but I hadn’t wanted to face it. Now, with James here, so close, so real, I finally understood.

I reached for the phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number.

When he answered, I didn’t hesitate. “It’s over,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m done.”

 The phone call had ended, but the weight of my past relationship still hung in the air like a fog. I felt lighter, yes, but also raw—exposed in a way I hadn’t been before. And there James was, standing close, his gaze never leaving mine. The intensity in his eyes seemed to say everything, everything I hadn’t been able to put into words. At that moment, I didn’t need words.

His arms pulled me close, his chest rising and falling against mine as he held me tightly. His warmth was intoxicating, grounding me. And with every breath I took, I felt a part of me slip away—the burdens, the doubts. But what remained? That unmistakable pull between us.

“You don’t have to carry that anymore, Y/N,” James murmured into my hair, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers trailed gently down my back, soothing and steady.

I nodded, the words a comfort, even though they didn’t fully capture everything I was feeling. The relief was there, but there was also something else—a deep, almost dizzying awareness of him. The way his body felt against mine, the heat that seemed to radiate from him, pulling me in closer with every passing second.

And then, without thinking, I tilted my head up, closing the distance between us, and kissed him.

It started slow, tentative, as if we were both testing the waters. His lips were soft, but there was an urgency behind them, a hunger that matched mine. I felt myself melting into him, responding with equal intensity. His hands found their way to my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. My body pressed flush against his, and I could feel every inch of him, the warmth of his skin, the solidness of his muscles. It sent a shock of electricity through me.

When we pulled back, James stood before me, his eyes locked on mine, a question lingering in his gaze.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he says, his voice low, almost hesitant, as if he’s giving me room to decide.

I smile, my heart racing a little faster with the closeness between us. “You’re not,” I reply softly, taking a step toward him. My fingers hover over the collar of his shirt, and I slowly unbutton the first one, the motion deliberate. Each button undone feels like the quiet shedding of a barrier between us, a promise that we’re both ready for this.

His eyes follow my hands as I slowly remove his shirt, the fabric sliding off his shoulders and falling to the floor. There’s a moment where we just stand there, looking at each other, as if taking in the enormity of what’s happening.

I reach for the hem of my own shirt, pulling it off slowly, the cool air against my skin sending a shiver down my spine. I can feel his gaze on me, warm and searching, but there’s no judgment. Just a deep, unspoken understanding between us.

James steps closer, his hand brushing against my bare skin as he tugs gently at the waistband of my jeans. He pauses for a moment, looking at me, asking for permission with just the look in his eyes. I nod, my hands moving to help him, pushing the jeans down over my hips.

The sound of fabric hitting the floor fills the room, and for a moment, there’s nothing else but the warmth of his body just inches away, the air heavy with anticipation. His hands move to my back, slowly undoing the clasp of my bra, his fingers light but sure. I feel a flutter of nerves in my stomach, but they quickly settle as he brushes the straps off my shoulders. We’re moving slowly, methodically, as if neither of us wants to rush this moment.

I slide my hands up his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart under my fingertips as I trace the lines of his body. I can feel the heat between us, the way our bodies naturally gravitate toward one another. The last of his clothes fall to the floor, and we’re both standing there, exposed to one another, the air thick with something deeper than just desire.

He pulls me close, his lips finding mine in a soft kiss, a slow exploration that speaks more than words ever could. I press closer, my hands sliding up his back, feeling the heat of his skin, the way his muscles shift as he moves.

Slowly, I guide him toward the bed, crawling beneath the soft covers, my heart racing as I feel the weight of him beside me. He follows, his body pressing against mine in the most comforting way. The warmth of his skin against mine feels like the world stopping, like everything has led to this moment.

 The room is warm, the air thick with the heat of our bodies pressed together. James hovers just above me, his chest rising and falling quickly, and I can feel his presence in every part of me. His body against mine is a perfect weight, pressing me into the soft sheets, and I can’t help but respond to every tiny shift of his.

His gaze locks with mine, dark and intense, and his lips are just inches from my neck. There’s a brief pause as he takes in the moment, making sure I’m comfortable, his fingers brushing over my skin as he adjusts himself, moving just a little closer. His breath falters, and I feel the subtle tension in him.

And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he shifts—his body fitting against mine, his breath hot against my skin as he thrusts, just enough to send a wave of heat through me. The feeling is intense, unexpected, and before I can even catch my breath, a soft moan escapes my lips, my body reacting to him instinctively.

James freezes for a split second, his breath shaky, eyes searching mine. His hands move to my waist, guiding me gently as he shifts again, adjusting himself to settle into a rhythm that feels even better, deeper. He looks down at me, and I can see the flicker of desire in his eyes, the way he’s trying to hold back, but can’t help but let his body respond to mine.

“You okay?” His voice is strained, barely above a whisper, and I feel the weight of his concern, the tenderness in his touch.

I nod, my voice barely audible, “Yes…” My fingers dig into his shoulders as I pull him closer, urging him to keep going, to keep moving.

James moves again, this time just a little deeper, his breath coming quicker as he adjusts, finding that perfect place where we’re both completely connected. My body reacts, my muscles tightening as I gasp softly, a quiet moan escaping my lips at the sensation.

His breathing becomes faster, more ragged, and I can feel him trembling slightly as he moves again, his hips shifting in perfect rhythm with mine. Every motion, every touch feels like it’s pulling us deeper, and I feel every inch of him, the way his body presses into mine, the way his hands hold me gently yet firmly.

I let out another soft moan, louder this time, unable to hold it back. My body arches up to meet him, my fingers digging into his back as he moves in a slow, deliberate rhythm, deepening the connection between us with each shift. His breath is hot against my neck, his chest pressing against mine, and the sensation is overwhelming, making my heart race even faster.

His voice is low, strained as he leans in, brushing his lips across my jawline. “You feel so good,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire, and I feel a jolt of warmth race through me at the sound of it.

I pull him closer, my hands tangling in his hair, as my body responds to him with every slow, deep thrust. The pressure inside me builds, every shift of his body sending waves of pleasure through me. And with each movement, I can hear the soft gasps and moans slipping from my lips, the sound of our breathing quickening as we move together in perfect sync.

I can feel him tremble slightly as he adjusts again, his movements becoming more deliberate, more urgent. He shifts again, deeper, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes me, my voice breaking slightly as my body reacts to him, the intensity building between us.

“James…” I gasp, barely able to get his name out, and my hands tighten around him as the tension inside me becomes almost unbearable. The way he moves, the way he adjusts to match me, brings us closer, and I feel myself getting closer to the edge with each thrust, each movement.

And then, as the pressure inside me reaches its peak, I let out a soft cry, my body shuddering as I reach that moment, that release. James follows closely behind, his breath shaky as he moves with me, his hands gentle on my skin, holding me close as we both come undone.

We stay like that for a moment, breathing heavily, our bodies still connected, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. His forehead rests against mine, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, a steady reminder that we’re both here, together.

He brushes his lips over my forehead, a tender, gentle kiss. “Are you okay?” he asks again, his voice soft, almost a whisper now.

I smile softly, my fingers tracing the lines of his back as I nod, my voice breathless. “Perfect.”

James pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me as we lay there, tangled together in the quiet aftermath. The world outside seems so far away now, and all that matters is the gentle rise and fall of our chests, the warmth of his body next to mine, and the quiet peace we’ve found in each other.

But then, just as the last remnants of the moment linger between us, James lifts his head slightly, his eyes searching mine with a new intensity. His thumb gently strokes my cheek, and his voice drops to a hushed whisper.

“You’re mine, Y/n,” he says softly, the words full of promise, raw with emotion. “And I won’t ever let anyone harm you. Not now, not ever. You’re safe with me.”

His lips meet mine in a slow, lingering kiss—full of tenderness, full of everything he’s just spoken. And in that kiss, I feel the truth of his words, the depth of his emotions, and a quiet certainty that nothing could ever take this from us.

As the kiss ends, I whisper softly, my voice full of gratitude, “Thank you, Jamie…”

He smiles against my lips, the warmth of it reaching all the way to my heart. His hand rests on my cheek for a moment, then moves to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Slowly, he lowers his head, resting it on my chest, his body curling into mine.

I run my fingers through his hair, gently stroking it, savoring the quiet peace between us. The sound of his breathing slows, becoming steady and calm as I hold him close, and for a moment, the world feels perfectly still, just us—together.

[cementcornfield]

What's the best way to talk to [Ja'Marr]?

You just talk- I mean he's a really smart football player, so you just go and...I mean we're- we're really good friends. We're not- what's understood doesn't need to be said between us. We give each other a look...

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[menodoramoon]

She can't help but give a half-humored smile. Almost fair, they had said. Understandable. It was always somewhat uneven. Though, she knows what they mean. Perhaps she had all the magical defenses, but he could kill her easily. She could not come close without corrupted intervention.

The inside of her wrist begins to sting again, pangs of dread echoing in Menodora's heartbeat.

She can see the way he shifts as he touches to the wound on his shoulder. The one she had left there. Her loss of control haunts her now, the way that she had let go of her restraint enough to threaten him. Would she have done the same to anyone else who brought those harsh -- maybe -- truths upon her? Her feelings had been hurt but shouldn't be enough to want to cause harm to anyone. To kill or maim or injure. What kind of Countess was she to do something like that, to someone she at one point had sworn, as a person of Mjaunie, to protect.

Once upon a time, she had sworn to them that she would be a different sort of person.

It felt like that grief was mine, Moon doesn't say, because to replay those memories wouldn't be worth it. It brings them back to that cycle and she doesn't want that. Of harm to each other -- her oblivious nature which irks him, his vicious tongue. How had the two of them ever been friends with these key differences in who they are as people?

She'd looked up to him. They'd been under her power, even if she hadn't realized it at the time. The civilized monster of Mjaunie, aiding the lords and ladies by leveraging their understanding of history and politics. He was a good Monster, she was told. When he turned on her, it felt like a personal betrayal. But it's not so easy, is it?

He rejects her offer to pay for the damages, and while she opens her mouth to protest, she can sense it's far from a mere formality. The refusal is not a performative action, asking Menodora to come back and insist. Tófi was never that way anyhow.

Simply, Menodora nods, accepting. If they were to ask, she'd acquiesce immediately. But for now, she would leave it alone.

Moon's face burns with a subtle shame as she tries to steady her previously rage-filled breathing. As she tries to settle her elevated heart rate. She is angry and angst-ridden but it's not fair for her to feel so hurt when she had quite literally stabbed Tófi for stating things that, while having strung, were true. At least to the degree that Tófi believed them to be true.

"I'm not asking for an apology," Menodora says, meaning it. She flexes her fingers, where her daggers had begun to burn the inside of her fingers. Or at least gave the illusion of such a thing.

He steps towards her as that anguish takes over and she can't help but flinch slightly, taking a half step back. They made no move to hurt her, yet that didn't mean they couldn't. They had done so with their tone and harsh words. She is still reeling, but it's her own mistrust that betrays her. And for that, Menodora is deeply frustrated.

'I should have some ibuprofen somewhere in the kitchen,' they say as they rest their hand on her shoulder. Funny, she thinks. The same one with the phantom scars. But that's not something she'll bring up. It was merely a dream.

Has the darkness spread further up her arms? She feels a slight despair as the stains remind her exactly what she's traded to get them here.

Yes, her and Tófi's friendship, but any semblance of her sense of self as well. Every time she thinks she could be a better person, she's dragged back to the memory of that day.

Isn't that so self-pitying? Tófi wouldn't approve, and neither would mother, she expects.

Still, it hurts. It leaves a slight burning in her fingertips, unrelated to the knives. And pricks under the skin, like it was magic wanting to spill out the same way light does.

It's not shadow magic, something she could control if she only dedicated herself. It's something deeper, a flow of magic that feels unnatural within her body.

"I suppose I attacked you more literally," Menodora murmurs. They don't apologize. It doesn't evade her notice. They'd always been that way, the implication of a thing that was not meant.

Even now, they're concerned for her. She nods, a bit unsteadily. Instead of the half-sob, she's now wracked with an aching headache. Was it the feeling of being weighed down by that old magic, or simply an over-excited over-exertion.

Menodora glances around, looking for something to steady herself. It's only Tófi that she can learn on at this moment. So, she swallows her pride and does so, trying to relax her body and lean slightly into the hand that rests on her shoulder. Trying not to sway slightly. She feels ill and unwell and guilty. Not so bad as to see stars or small, dancing lights, or to see the edge of consciousness, but she feels the need to close her eyes.

She won't. Not yet.

"And what, dear Torvald," She murmurs, wincing slightly at the pinging headache that was forming, "makes such a biting performance necessary?"

She's not exactly looking for an answer, but it's an interesting consideration.

"I'm feeling… a little dizzy, Tófi," she says. finally bringing a hand to press against her temple. "Would you mind terribly if I rested for a moment so long as I promise not to set any more of your possessions ablaze…?"

@ofseptarsis

genfødte sandheder || Tófi & Moon

[worstloki]

mu qing you deserve so much better

[trans-xianxian]

sorry but the guy playing the ratfish on game changer was truly So fucking annoying

[swordmaid]

thalia is so growing on me i love my rich woman who has Problems.. i gave her ice powers for like. the elsa vibes.

[magentagalaxies]

re-editing some stuff for the buddy cole doc trailer rn (bruce sent me his notes and they were all very good just a few changes to make it even better) and i keep thinking about how one of my professors who knew kith last year one time interrupted me in the middle of telling him a toronto story after class and was like "y'know you actually remind me a bit of bruce. you have very similar speech patterns" and now as i'm having to hear my voice and bruce's voice back to back on this editing timeline i'm like oh shit we do talk similarly

[joycrispy]

Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.

[shadowtraveled]

"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

[bbokicidal]

Hand Placement - [OT8]

quick summary : where the skz members like to lay their hands on your body during different scenarios.

warnings : suggestive content (18+, MDNI), sexual themes, casual (? ish, ig.) groping

notes : the order of the scenarios goes: casual -> intimate -> sensual so the pictures for each member will be placed in that order for visual reference!

if you like my content and want to see more, be sure to follow & reblog!

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ bangchan

casual - he can't help it, if he's honest. he knows that actions speak louder than words, and when you're stubborn enough to deny the beauty he tells you he sees through his eyes - well, he hopes that the touch of his hand lingering over your jaw will guide you to see yourself the way he does.

intimate - always holding your hand, chan can't deny that he feels a protective nature over you. he can't let you get lost - can't fight the panic he finds filling his chest when his fingers aren't laced with yours. so do him a favor and just hold on tight, yeah?

sensual - having the need to constantly be using his hands, chan likes to knead that plush of your thighs any chance he gets - and the feeling of the warmth under his fingertips is all the more alluring when you're sitting above him rocking your hips down against his hardening cock.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ lee know

casual - never one to hurt you, his grip is always gentle when he grabs hold of your wrist. it's a subtle but sure way to make sure you drop the bratty, teasing nature that riles him up all too quickly - and it's a surefire way to get jisung giggling off to the side at your antics.

intimate - he isn't sure when his love for resting his hand on your lower back appeared, but minho adores getting to hold onto you in such a soft way. it's - again - subtle, but his gesture and guide is firm as he brings you to walk in front of him or lures you away from the counter so he can step forward and pay.

sensual - call him sappy - maybe even a bit romantic - but minho needs to feel your hand in his when he's making love to you. both so he knows you're present and with him in that moment, but also to keep you grounded when he's kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. <3

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ changbin

casual - bin loves the feeling of having you in his arms. he can't resist the urge to hug onto you most times - use to being the clingier one in the group and loving that you'll accept his affection with no questions asked.

intimate - and since we're on the topic, who doesn't want a hug with bin's big strong arms wrapped around them? better yet, who doesn't want a strong hug from behind while also getting to play with his fingers and rings? he'll chat away with the others, swaying carefully back and forth with you huddled nice and close, twisting his rings and pulling at his bracelets.

sensual - having a thing for - what do we call it, grabbing? we've seen him do it with seungmin multiple times and you'd be wrong if you think he won't do it to you as well. at first it's gentle caresses along the nape of your neck to guide you into a kiss - but once he's comfortable enough and knows what you like, he'll grab you by the throat, dragging you to him to steal a kiss before guiding you to your knees so you can take his awaiting cock in your pretty little mouth.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ hyunjin

casual - thinking it's more funny than anything, hyunjin developed a habit of pressing a hand over your mouth when you got snappy towards other members, namely being minho. because he knew for a fact that you would also get the airfryer-tissue treatment as soon as minho got out of his seat.

intimate - call him romantic, call him a sucker. hyunjin can't get enough of the warmth your body offers him, hands sliding under your shirt when you kiss him so he can squeeze at the softness of your sides and maybe, if he's feeling frisky, trail his fingertips up a bit higher.

sensual - call him a whore. if you're alone together, or you're in the group and everyone's been drinking a bit so he's what we'll call 'loose' in this situation - he's resting a hand right over your center. whether you're wearing pants, shorts, a dress, or nothing at all - he's always got his hand loitering there. maybe even rubbing small circles with his fingertips.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ han

casual - jisung is... a sweetheart when it comes to your body. his favorite thing to do no matter where you are, how many people are around, what time of day it is - is play with your hair. he loves the feeling of running his fingers through it and getting to twist it into fun hairstyles. he'll do his best not to rat it up, though.

intimate - his hand being in your back pocket is something he could put on his hobby - because that's a full-time job for him. you're standing beside him? hand in your pocket. you're sitting in his lap? hand under your ass in your pocket. you're standing in front of him in line? whoop - hand in your pocket. maybe squeezing here and there, too.

sensual - did you see this one coming? han jisung is an ass man and i will stand by my word. any time you're alone he's always, always, always touching the tooshie. he'll slide his hands over the soft skin and dig his fingertips in as much as he can while you're in his lap, his lips attached to your throat to muffle his groans. he gets more pleasure out of it than you do, i'd assume.~

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ felix

casual - ever the sweetheart and gentleman, felix does his best to keep his hands to himself with you in public. but if you're more comfortable and don't mind him holding onto you or being affectionate, he'll often times find himself holding onto your hands or bringing you closer so that you can hold onto his arm.

intimate - it's common this appears at awards shows - felix enjoys showing you off. his hand is consistently resting on your hip, gentle but firm in nature and not necessarily guiding you but moreso just resting there so that people get the hint. you're taken, and he's proud to be your boyfriend. (all days of the week, but when you look this gorgeous? he's bound to adore you just a tad bit more, pride swelling in his veins.)

sensual - felix's hands commonly rest on your sides during moments together. partially because it gives you stability - and partially because he needs to hold onto you while he stares up at your bouncing form above him, his lips parted and eyes fogged like glass with adoration.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ seungmin

casual - seungmin's almost always touching you more than he is the others. he'll nudge you with his hip to get you out of his way (playfully, of course) or give you a shove when you're being bratty - even though he's the exact same way. nuisances, i swear. <3

intimate - it's subtle, and soft. but seungmin has a love for linking his pinky with yours, letting his thumb rub over the back of your hand while you sit beside each other. there's no looks or words exchanged - just brief, sweet, quiet moments filled with a dull hum of love.

sensual - contrary to everything i just said, he's a grabber. grabbing your thighs, your hands, your sides - your hair. he has a love for holding your hair back for you while you swallow around his cock, or pulling on it to make you look back at him when he drills into you from behind so hard it almost hurts.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ jeongin

casual - there's little to no casual contact with jeongin, simply because skinship isn't his thing. he'll hold your hand or arms here or there in passing, but it isn't often he'll be affectionate with you in public.

intimate - when he is feeling softer, feeling safer when he's alone with you and out of the teasing eyes of his hyungs - jeongin likes to cup your face in his hands. he mentally huffs out a laugh at the way his palms seem to envelope your cheeks completely, but on the outside he's just gazing at you, smitten and soft and falling apart just by the simplest touch.

sensual - his hands tend to wander. they'll caress over every curve of your body when you're splayed on the sheets for him, so willing and wanting and ready for what he has to offer - but they travel along your back most often. you think he just has a want to feel the way your back arches away from his touch, chasing the warmth of his body and writhing with pleasure all because of him.

[januaryembrs]

BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader

request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.

description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined

word count: 1.1k

main masterlist

authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))

Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 

It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 

You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 

“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 

“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 

“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”

“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 

“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.

“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 

“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 

You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 

“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.

“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 

Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 

The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.

He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 

“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 

“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”

“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 

Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 

“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 

“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”

A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 

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