#in case the cut doesn't show rip

[cordeliawhohung]

You created a monster in me with underboss!Simon and now you must take responsibility.

Please feed my new addiction with relationship headcanons 😩😩😩. I love him and Shy!reader.

i've created so many monsters y'all gotta stop biting at my ankles or at least start paying rent or smth <3 also i'm still trying to work out a lot of the dynamics of the relationship between them so this is still a little bare boned but i hope you enjoy!

mafia!141 masterlist <3

warnings: mostly fluff :3 simon is a bit of a prick lol, fem!reader,

just in case anyone missed it, this is how underboss!Simon and shy!Reader meet <3

it takes a brutally long time for the two of you to start dating. a brutally long time.

and it isn't for lack of trying on Simon's end. he manages to get your number somehow (i hear Soap is very tech savvy...) and asks you out the week after the dinner at John's house, only for you to decline.

which is fine. he can take rejection. but this is... different. you're too kind when you say no. you're not saying it because you think you're too good for him, you're saying it because of something else, and Simon can tell the difference but can't exactly tell what it is.

it drives him nuts for a long time. you were supposed to be just another number in his phone for a booty call. he's used to getting pretty much anything he wants, after all, but even then it shouldn't have bugged him as much as it did. maybe it was because he liked the way you looked at him. not with disgust. not with some lustful intention. you were... soft. kind, even.

as for you? you think it's crazy how this 6'4", ripped, and kind guy showed interest in you. you, someone too anxious for her own good, someone who said no because it was less scary than committing to something. and you hate yourself for rejecting him.

so in an effort to stay close to him, you text him pretty often. you send him pictures of things you see or run into during your day. something funny at work, a cool rock you found in someone's garden, the spider that decided to make its home in your shower. and sweetheart, you have no idea what you're doing to the poor man ):

this goes on for a long while. just simon being a stupid man, not wanting to push your boundaries after you already rejected him, and you being too anxious to fix things and ask him yourself.

eventually, by some miracle (that i might write more about later because like i said BARE BONES) the two of you get together. and it's... interesting. simon isn't really used to dating. like properly. he's used to buttering a girl up, going back to her place for a quick fuck, and then only seeing her whenever either of them are too bored and horny to function. but with you it's nothing like that at all. there's no sex on the first date, not even a damn kiss, and he finds himself craving you more than ever because of it. wanting to be around you all the time, wanting to hear about your day.

man is fucking obsessed.

he treats you like a princess. he only ever really spent his money on stupid shit but now he can spend it on you! you never ask for anything, but god forbid if you express that anything, be it clothes or otherwise, looks cute because he will buy it for you, no matter how awkward you are at receiving gifts.

also! because he's so big and somewhat brutish, no one fucks with you when you're in public together. annoying kiosk clerks trying to aggressively sell you something? one look from him and they're gone. someone messed up your order but you're too anxious to ask them to fix it? he's advocating for you.

because of him, you find yourself growing less afraid and anxious of things. he teaches you how to be brave, and you teach him how to be soft. there's nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you <3

oh also btw he's in the mafia. he might have forgotten to mention that... hope that doesn't freak you out or anything. don't worry about the blood on his shirt or the bruises on his face or the cuts on his arms or... oh god you look like you're going to cry. it's nothing, sweetheart! promise! stop trying to take him to the hospital!

also, some sorta unrelated comments: i think shy!reader is def a hostess at a restaurant. i feel like simon would hang out at the restaurant too just to be around you. he'd also slip you a tip, even though you tell him you make hourly and don't depend on tips.

"consider it my way of saying thanks for sitting us at the table with the best view."

the view is you, btw.

AHHH i'm sorry this was such a mess? i have so many jumbled thoughts but i'm glad i was able to get some of them out and i hope they were somewhat enjoyable al;kdjf i'll be working on a short drabble/oneshot for him over the weekend, so i'm hoping that'll make up for this <3

[agentmarvel]

Can we have headcanons of fem!reader wife x 141 guys and how they each handle her leaving for girl’s night out in a really skimpy dress?

I think they’d all have hilarious reactions.😂

Omg yesssss

NSFW under the cut

MDNI - 18+

♡ Price:

Oh lord, that man is NOT letting you out of the house.

"Where ya think you're going in that?"

gets a little pissy when you remind him you have one girls night a month, and you have every right to wear whatever you want

"Doesn't mean you have the right to show anyone else what's mine, love."

will physically block the door with his whole body, knowing you won't be able to move him unless he allows it

he isn't mad - no, quite the opposite! it's taking every ounce of his self-restraint not to rip that damn thing in half and have his way with you right there on the foyer floor

"John, move. I don't want to be late!" - "Shame... You should've thought about that before you put on something you know damn well I can't resist."

he thinks it's cute when you argue with him, but you both know this ends up with your front pressed up against the door, panties pulled to the side, and his cock buried to the hilt inside you

after he cums, he pulls your panties back into place and gives you a harsh swat on the ass, not caring that your make up is a little smudged or that your legs are jello while he's giving you that smug look he wears so well

"Enjoy your night out, Mrs. Price. Hurry home."

♡ Gaz:

he's on you before you even walk out of the bathroom after you finish your hair

wraps his arms around your waist, puts his chin on your shoulder, tells you how pretty you look

"This dress new? Haven't seen it on the floor before."

ohhhhh, he is so down bad for you, even after as long as you've been together

makes it a point to grab a quick selfie bc he knows it's a solid confidence booster, and he wants you to feel as beautiful as you look

it doesn't really cross his mind that anyone would try anything on you - you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and he knows who you'll come home to; he knows who's bed you'll be in tonight, who's name you'll be calling in the dark

he even helps you pick the right shoes, even though you know he picks his favorite pair in hopes of seeing you in just those when you get home

ever the gentleman, he walks you out to your car, reminds you to drive safe, call him if you have too much to drink, etc.

he does, however, make it a point to send you some downright raunchy texts and a photo of his more... physical reaction, just in case you needed some motivation to come home a little early

when you get home (early), he's still riled up; he's too impatient to wait for you to make it upstairs, much less to unzip your dress for you, so you end up riding him on the landing until he's too tongue-tied to keep telling you how hot you look

♡ Soap:

you're not making it out of the house. Period.

the SECOND Johnny lays eyes on you, it's over

he's grabby as hell, digging his fingers into any part of you that he can - squeezing your ass, your hips, your thighs, tits, tummy, anything - while he navigates you to the nearest surface

"Yer so fuckin' pretty, baby. Never seen something so fuckin' perfect in my god damn life."

it doesn't matter if you end up on the couch, the kitchen counter, in the back yard; he's eating your pussy like a death row prisoner's last meal until you're crying, trying to wrench his head away with the hair tangled in your fist

he has your dress bunched up around your waist, straps pulled down so he can play with your nipples, but uses the whole garment as leverage while he fucks you stupid

you should've known better than to put a t-bone in front of a starving dog and expect it not to bite

"Go ahead, bonnie; text your little friends, tell them you're not gonna make it, yeah?"

♡ Ghost:

"'course, love. Have fun, be careful, call me if you need a ride."

Simon isn't too worried initially; he knows there isn't going to be a single soul in that bar willing or able to face his wrath should anything untoward happen. but then he actually sees what you're wearing, and all bets are off

that's why he follows you, he tells himself, it has nothing to do with the insatiable urge to destroy your ability to walk tomorrow

nothing trumps your safety, in terms of his priorities. he's simply here to look out for his wife, right?

wrong. he spends the next hour and a half watching you from a darkened corner of the bar while his palms itch with a need to touch

opportunity knocks when you excuse yourself from the table, and he follows you into the restroom, slipping in before you have a chance to lock the door

you're not surprised to see him (duh, you know him better than just about anyone), but you are surprised to find yourself bent over the sink, looking Simon in the eye through his reflection. he's fucking you mercilessly, spewing absolute filth while he pulls your head back by your hair

"My perfect little whore, hmm? Waltzing around in that tiny dress, wearing my fuckin' ring, rubbin' it in everyone's faces that you only open those pretty legs for me."

he wants to cum on your face, but you pout about the possibility of it getting in your eye, or worse, on your dress, so he settles for letting you swallow it instead

his impulses return not much longer after you return to your table; instead, he texts you that he's ready to head out, and you are all too quick to oblige

[miinatozakiii]

can we get even closer?

detective!jihyo x spiderwoman!reader (pt. 3, finale!) ; smut, fluff

synopsis: spiderwoman becomes 10x more alluring AND convincing, detective park is completely disregarding the chief at this point.

wc: 11.7k

warnings: blood ; mentions of wounds, cuts, bruises ; smut!!!

pls read for context: pt.1, pt.2

the crime scene was a messy tapestry of deception and disorder.

jihyo scanned the mess of a venue. there were flipped-over tables, pieces of chairs, and debris scattered all over the venue—even a light had fallen from the ceiling—it was a sight.

the cluttered, frenzied scene wasn't even the worst part; to tell the truth, what made it worse was seeing her colleagues all stuck together tangled up in spiderwebs against the wall.

the chief included in the mess.

the chief was tangled up alone, arms and legs restrained with only his head free. he seemed infuriated; this does not help your case. the chief will hate your guts even more, and if he catches you, he might rip them out.

jihyo has her final conclusion made up in her head after fully processing the mess in front of her: you have one functioning brain cell.

the officers and chief aren't the only ones captured, there's an apparent culprit tied together in a large, thicker layer of cobweb: the lizard.

it's green, it's ugly, and it's huge—jihyo furrows her brows at the sight—but her face lights up when she sees the familiar silhouette of the special spider-like "hero."

you stand there in front of the grotesque reptile, gazing at it with slumped shoulders and heavy breaths. you're exhausted and aching from the very physically demanding task. on the bright side: there are no broken bones or any limbs missing—that's a plus—though there are a few scratches that rip the new suit you had just gotten. you sigh at the thought of having to face your suit designer nayeon. you really don't want to hear her complaints again.

the thought of nayeon yelling in your ear distracts you from the blood that seeps out the cuts on your body and the pain from the sore areas that will surely be dark, annoying bruises—though the thought of that nayeon pulling at your ear and bickering with you doesn't distract you forever, the discomfort in your abdomen returns and you almost fall over.

screw that ugly ass lizard.

jihyo runs over to your side, looking at your weary state.

"y/n-" jihyo catches herself, immediately quieting down when uttering the last part of your name. she watches her words even if she's not in the field of vision of the officers, they still have ears afterall. "spiderwoman, are you okay?" jihyo asks, looking at the cuts in your suit.

"yeah." you respond, and you're lying your ass off because you think you might fall over soon. "just a bit beat up, could've been worse."

“you think a stab to the stomach is comparable to a paper cut. " the detective sighs, “that doesn’t make this any better.”

it’s evident in her tone that she’s worried. your heart feels heavy knowing that she feels like that for you, but you don't want to overwhelm her anymore. you put your hand on her shoulder and her eyes soften. her look almost hurts more than that stupid pain in your stomach.

"park," you say softly, "i'm fine."

“you’re not.”

"i need to change back and leave, keep an eye on the lizard?"

"y/n-"

"it's spiderwoman." you say sternly. your voice had lost any hint of playfulness, now it’s more of a croaked-out, low tone.

"sorry, i just-"

"let's talk later, yeah?" you urge. jihyo nods with disappointment. 

you smile as you shoot a web up, looking at her with the same softness before pulling yourself and swinging away.

jihyo's jaw tightens up.

you don’t break into jihyo’s house or even show up at the department for four days and counting. that’s 96+ hours of jihyo not seeing you, of her having all these questions swarming in her brain with no answers and 96+ hours of missing you. detective park is running out of patience.

jihyo spins the pen in her hand while examining the papers related to the “lizard” case, i mean, there’s not much to do since the lizard-man had been captured after turning back to normal, but jihyo had to do a brief check before going back to the prison to interrogate the human form of that nightmare.

the identity of the lizard was found after it had transformed back into a slender, fragile man: dr. watanabe, lead scientist at minatozaki industries and former friend of the chief.

the chief seemed to be slowly losing it after the whole event—who wouldn’t be after having to ask your detective to cut you and the rest of your coworkers out of the spiderweb that was shot from the wrists of the person you went on a whole tangent about not trusting—exactly.

it’s been hectic.

the detective shoves the papers back into the folder before heading into the room that holds the visitation booths, which is empty and only has one guard present. she runs a hand through her hair before nodding at the guard and sitting at booth three.

her foot taps at the ground as she waits—not because she’s anxious—it’s just a habit she’s had since college.

there’s the sound of the door opening and not even five seconds later the scientist sits in front of her. he looked terrible: bags under his eyes, brows creased, and hair disordered—that’s not like him at all. jihyo takes out a paper from the folder and holds the black telephone handle close to her ear.

“you’ve finally agreed to talk.”

“against my will, where’s the chief.” watanabe spits back through the line. jihyo shoots a look that has the scientist shrinking in his seat.

“not here.” she says sternly, “now i would really appreciate if you could be competent since you’ve caused so much trouble.”

“bring me that damn chief and i’ll talk, they said he’d be here.”

“he’s not here, so quit whining. i have some questions that you need to answer, i’d advise that you respond well and with a compliant attitude.” the detective warns threateningly.

the scientist makes eye contact once with jihyo then looks back down, ready to answer with his hand clutching the telephone handle tightly.

jihyo ends up leaving the visitation booth with sluggish shoulders and a paper with rushed, messy jotted-down notes of the criminals’ answers and puts it in her bag. once she steps outside into the afternoon light, she’s quick to stretch out her arms, groaning at the relieving sensation.

“hi.”

that voice is very familiar.

the detective turns and her eyes widen at the sight of you. you’re standing there with a smile, warm and friendly.

a dark, navy sweater sits loosely on your figure, and your hair is tied up. you look beautiful, and not as beat up as jihyo figures you should look (i mean, you literally had a whole wwe match with a lizard a couple days ago, so it’s surprising to say the least). you seem content, you seem perfectly fine and jihyo hates that you haven’t bothered her. where have you been?

jihyo stares at you in awe, well, maybe with some confusion and a hint of anger too. she wants to ask where you’ve been, i mean, it’s been days and you haven’t knocked on her window, she had even waited by that stupid window of hers with the hope that you’d barge in. she wants to ask how you’ve been doing, if your injuries been bothering you maybe and if your cuts healed. jihyo wants to know everything, from how you’re doing physically to what’s going on in that smoothed-out brain of yours. (jihyo has many questions, too many, and it has her silent in her place while she gapes at you.)

you play with the neckline of your sweater. “it’s getting pretty cold, huh.”

jihyo thinks you’re unbelievable.

“where have you been?” jihyo asks, walking up to you and pushing you playfully (fighting the urge to hold your and look at you with desire like in those cliché romance movies where the leads love interest shows up after being missing—or something like that at least. [park jihyo watches too many dramas]) she furrows her brows a little, looking at you with a tad of shock in her expression.

you tilt your head and ask, “why are you looking at me like that.”

“you’ve been gone for what, four days?” jihyo says, raising her brows. a couple people passing by glance in your direction when jihyo raises her voice, but she doesn’t care, that’s the last thing she cares about. “you haven’t called, texted, or even showed up to your own uncles workplace! you haven’t even-“ and jihyo cannot believe she’s about to say this: “you haven’t broken into my apartment or anything!”

a short silence fills the air before your eyes soften the same way they did before leaving jihyo at that venue—right after finishing up your business.

you let out a brief, soft sigh. “i’m sorry, it’s a lot.”

“yeah, it is.” jihyo huffs, losing the worry in her tone as relief fills in.

a grin plays at your lips, “i did say i would explain everything,” you start, “and i did say i’d take you out, and on me too…”

jihyo crosses her arms and mumbles, “you did.”

“that’s only if the detective would let me…?”

the weight on jihyo’s shoulders is completely knocked off and she chuckles at your response, quickly losing the serious façade.

 “i have to drop this off at work, maybe i’ll let you once i do.”

you grin. “great.”

you end up as passenger princess in jihyo’s white, glossy bmw.

saying the car is nice would be a huge understatement. the interior is even more fascinating compared to the exterior, and that says a lot. the seats are clean, comfy, and from the texture, you can tell it’s authentic and expensive leather. the car is pretty spotless other than the water bottle in the cup holder and that reusable tote bag that seemed to have been thrown at the backseats blindly. the car smells fresh—something woody, minty, and there’s also a hint of apple—it’s welcoming and really fits the detective.

“comfy?” jihyo asks, turning on the engine.

“yeah.” you reply, feeling a little intimidated for no reason.

jihyo chuckles at you and shifts the stick, lightly steps on the gas, then looks at the screen in the car as she backs up. there should be no reason for this to be so attractive, i mean, you’ve seen many people back up a car, nothing special, but when jihyo does it you find yourself wanting her a little more.

the two of you end up at the department less than ten minutes later. despite how unbelievably close and flirty you’ve gotten with the detective; the whole car ride was way too intimate for your liking, and your nerves were a mess.

the car was so nice it had you feeling tense, jihyo was driving with such ease and looked so damn good with those sunglasses she had on. you felt small in the passenger seat. thankfully, you’re a few turns away from the department.

“i need to tell you something.” you say, making jihyo hum.

“what is it?”

“i can’t go into the department, i’m, well… i’ll tell you later but long story short my uncle cannot see me and i’m technically kind of on house arrest.”

“you’re what?”

“long story.”

the light turns red, the detective breaks smoothly then turns to look at you, curiosity and disbelief making her brows furrow.

“why am i not surprised that the chief would do something like that.” jihyo sighs, looking back at the stoplight—it’s green now. “he’s been on edge lately ever since the incident, he’s probably just anxious.”

you chuckle and shake your head, “he’s something…”

not too long later, the two of you find your way over at a café nearby and situate yourselves in the balcony area on the second floor.

jihyo holds a mint-colored latte cup in her hand that’s filled with a simple, hot mocha. she takes a sip and a bit of the steamed milk coats the top of her lips, she licks it off subtly. you smile before taking a sip of your own drink, some type of seasonal latte that has hints of apple and cinnamon.

“i missed you.” you say, looking down at the slightly distorted latte art in your cup. jihyo looks at you then smiles, a tint of pink dusting her cheeks as she turns her head to take in the view of the farmers markets nearby.

“me too.” she sighs, “i was… i haven’t been as tired lately, so i waited near my window for some spider to knock on it—she never came.”

you frown. “i wanted to. i’m always one to help people and try to not break the law, but i can’t help it when it’s you.” you respond jokingly.

jihyo smiles at your playfulness, happy to be spending time with one of the people she’s grown close with, as well as the hero she’s been secretly crushing and interacting with.

“can i ask how long you’ve been, you know…”

“couple months.” you reply, “remember how i told you about getting bit by the spider?” you ask, jihyo nods and you begin again, “i got bit a week after i moved here, and then i started sticking to things, accidentally broke my doorknob—oh! i was also watching this scary movie one time and got scared, after that i couldn’t see myself in the mirror.”

“that’s a lot.”

“yes, too much.”

“so… what happened with you and your uncle?” jihyo questions, wondering why she’s been spiderwoman-deficient for the past four days.

“oh yeah,” you respond, “well, he found out that i got hurt—not because i was y’know, doing my little hero thing—but he saw the blood and some of the injuries. he went on this tangent about me staying safe, he’s just been on edge and very protective. he doesn’t want me leaving the house. i’ve been working from home.”

“you couldn’t sneak out?”

“he had detectors, it took me a bit to mess with it. i took some engineering classes in high school and had some mischievous friends, so i ended up cheating the system.” you explain. jihyo nods, raising her brows at how capable you are; you’re quite impressive even if someone were to snatch your spider abilities away. “so, what’s been going on with you detective? fill me in.”

jihyo sighs, shaking her head softly.

“your uncle has been on edge, it’s strange.” she says, “usually these types of cases don’t phase him, but he’s shaken up.”

“maybe it was me trapping him in cobwebs—too much?”

the detective shakes her head again. “no, i don’t think so, but that was stupid on your end. he’s just been terribly paranoid; i’ve never seen him so tense.”

you furrow your brows and take another sip of your beverage before raising your brows as if you had an idea, “maybe it has something to do with the scientist?” you suggest, and you ponder before speaking again, “i remember my uncle having lunch with the scientist a couple months ago, he came back from the lunch all tense and a bit angry—even snapped at me for something. it was strange.”

jihyo’s expression lights up, “you’re on to something… that scientist did ask me to see the chief multiple times… and watanabe is clearly hiding something.”

“you think we should reunite them? maybe find out more of what’s between them?”

“it might be a good idea.” the detective mumbles, swirling remnants of her drink in the cup. you bite the inside of your lip and hum again,

“let’s try it, i can talk to the chief.”

“you’re on house arrest.”

“spiderwoman can do it then. she’s not on house arrest.”

jihyo’s eyes widen at the suggestion, and she looks at you like you’re crazy. “you’re insane.”

“maybe chief l/n will listen to me if i’m sweet with him.”

“he could body slam you to the ground.”

“maybe he could do that to y/n, but not spiderwoman.” you beam.

“no, maybe spiderwoman too.” jihyo shakes her head and simply sighs, “you’re actually the dumbest person i know.”

“you into that?”

the mask on your face is new, so is the suit (you were able to contact your suit designer via email and after seeing jihyo you got your much more durable suit—that is, after getting scolded by the fashion designer.)

you spot chief l/n in the office alone, it’s quite late anyway, a little past when you’d usually have dinner. your uncle examines a paper with furrowed brows and a pen in his large, aging hands. he looks pretty focused—you take it as your cue to invite yourself into his large office.

when the chief hears a small thud, he’s immediately on guard. he puts his hand over the gun strapped under his desk and scans the room: there’s no one, nothing, but he’s not convinced.

“i’m not fucking stupid.” he says coldly, “show yourself or you’re going to regret a lot.”

his voice is low, deep, and threatening. it’s worse than when he scolds you, much worse and you think you might be lucky that his most angry tone with you is less frightening than how he’s talking to you now.

you’re invisible, he can’t see you at all. the chief pulls out his gun from under the table and holds it with precision, aiming and scanning the room once more for any sign of someone. the gun in his hand is knocked out with a spiderweb and the chief halts, stiffening in his place.

you unveil yourself and the chief spots the familiar vigilante stuck to the ceiling, though that same vigilante who had terrorized him a couple days prior is wearing a new suit.

“hello chief.” you greet, making sure you alter your voice.

the tall, bulky man grimaces when you release yourself off of the wall and land on the floor of the room.

“spiderwoman.”

“nice to see you too.” you say, “i’m not going to hurt you or anything, i’m just uneasy around guns.”

“yeah, sure.” he scoffs, “you’re up to something.”

“god- no!” you groan, losing patience. the chief drops his stern demeanor for a second when you pinch the bridge of your nose, it almost convinces him that you’re just a simple human under that suit. “i’m trying to get more details on the lizard, and i need your help.”

“that lizard… he’s behind bars.”

“but that’s not it and you know it.”

“get out my damn office. i’m not afraid to fight you, i don’t care how many webs you trap me in.”

you sigh again, growing even more impatient. the chief glares at you when you do so.

“look—the people, the citizens, families and friends—they’re all in danger if you’re not competent,” you explain. your uncle drops his serious expression and his shoulders relax just barely.

“and i should just tell you why, huh? so you can do who knows what with this information? i’m not stupid.”

“you’re getting on my fucking nerves though and you’re being a prick that’s what you are.” you respond with irritation, and the tone of your retort reminds the chief of a certain someone he knows very well. “you think i saved that whole venue for shits and giggles? i left there with a broken rib and more bruises and cuts than i can count on one hand. i don’t know how many people i have to save or buildings i have to stop from collapsing to get you to understand that i’m not the fucking villain. look, watanabe is eery, there’s something i’m missing on this whole case because that damn scientist has been reluctant to give answers due to some tall ass man-baby of a chief that not only refuses to see the what, barely average height scientist, but the same chief who won’t fucking comply to this ‘vigilante’ because of his foggy little brain.”

the chief looks at you with surprise now, mouth slightly agape.

“i’m—i’m sorry?” he says with uncertainty. your uncle decides to swallow up his pride and prejudice, you sound like his niece and he starts to soften up. “fine. only if it helps.”

so rambling was the only thing that you needed to get him to comply? you’ve been wasting your time, too much time.

“why does watanabe want to see you.” you ask, observing the way your uncles eyes hesitantly avoid your gaze.

it’s quite strange seeing your uncle so sheepish looking, so submissive and not in the way he looks when your aunt scolds him for not eating, but he looks almost vulnerable.

“we-” he pauses and his shoulders drop just barely, “we used to work together. now that he’s behind bars i can’t compromise my position.”

“how does it compromise your position?”

“i’m a big guy, a big, bulky guy. watanabe and i used to be friends and… he asked for my dna samples and whatnot. look, i might’ve…” the chief sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “i gave him some and i don’t know what he did with it, but now that he’s behind bars i think it’s something bad. i don’t know, i’ve never been a science freak.”

“okay so he has your dna, what are you looking so scared for?” you ask,

“i’m just wary… i don’t know what he can do with it—what he has done with it.”

you ponder for a bit and look at the anxious chief in front of you, who looks less intimidating than ever in front of you. why would watanabe need his dna?

“well, he’s behind bars, so no need to worry about anything for now yeah? i’ll investigate this myself.” you assure. you expect an inquiry, a response or something—but the chief simply nods and huffs.

“yeah alright.” he sighs. you shoot a thumbs up and hide yourself in transparency, that’s when you hear small—but noticeable in the silent ambience—words of gratitude. “thanks for taking a weight off my shoulders.”

you really have to stop breaking into jihyo’s home—well, it’s more of you jump scaring her and then her letting you in—so is it really a crime if there’s implied consent to enter?

jihyo opens the window for you and sighs, “i have a door you know.”

“too much work.”

“and swinging to the tenth floor of my apartment building is less work?”

“more exciting!” you beam, “and i like your little reaction, it’s cute.”

jihyo rolls her eye at your little remark and you climb in. she watches you pull off your mask and tuck some of your messy hair away, her eyes linger a little before she turns and walks back to her stove.

“whatcha cookin’?” you ask, sitting on the counter of the little kitchen island.

“avocado toast with eggs.” jihyo responds, not turning around.

“how healthy.”

“did you need something?” she asks, sliding the spatula under the eggs before flipping it over and cutting the heat.

“do you wanna break the law?” you ask. jihyo turns around and the expression plastered on her face screams:“are you dumb or stupid?”

“you’re seriously asking me this?”

“okay technically it’s not fully breaking the law,” you start, “just… doing something that might be an invasion of privacy.”

“that might be breaking the law, stupid.” jihyo snickers, smiling at the idiot in front of her.

you’re wearing something comfy yet professional looking: a pullover with a dress shirt under and some simple dress pants. the detective wonders if people saw you swinging around like that—the only thing masking your identity being the mask you had taken off, and without the mask jihyo can see you with the nerdy-looking glasses you put on earlier, and the smile plastered on your face. you’ve got a cute grin.

“you never said no.” you shrug.

“i’ll lose my job.”

“no you wont. just let me explain?” you plead. jihyo sighs, crossing her arms while leaning against the counter next to the stove; all of the detectives’ attention is on you now.

“thanks lovely.” you say, and the little remark makes jihyo’s cheeks flush just barely. “okay so i had a little talk with the chief last night, turns out watanabe has his dna and my uncle’s on edge because of that.”

“okay…”

“i work for the same company, meaning i have a keycard. that also means we can investigate a little more and find out what the hell he wanted to do with the chiefs dna.” you explain, “it’s technically your job to do all this investigating and if you think about it: i’m just a loyal citizen helping out the hottest detective in the force.”

jihyo uncrosses her arms and puts her hands on the counter gripping the edge. you watch the way her arm tenses and wow she’s toned. the detective looks down and shakes her head, smiling.

the shorter woman turns back around and pulls out a piece of bread from the toaster, then uses the spatula that rested on the plate to put an egg on the toast. she hands you the plate and you turn your head, but take it nonetheless.

“eat up, gotta have energy to ‘kinda’ break the law.”

your eyes light up and you almost gasp, “you’re going to do it?”

“you get me to do the craziest things.”

you smirk and respond, “and if i were a crazy thing?”

jihyo looks you in the eye and smiles. “i could put you on my to-do list then.”

you had offered to swing out her window with her, but jihyo denied, and you teased her the whole way down to the parking lot.

now you’re playing passenger princess (pt. 2) and watch jihyo shift out her parking space, which is a sight. there’s something enticing with her movements, the way she carries herself, and her confidence.

when you reach the building—the large, modern-looking building with a café that keeps your coffee addiction thriving—jihyo gazes for a bit, clearly impressed.

“never been here?”

“no, i have, just never had time to fully take in everything.” she says, “it’s very nice.”

you smile and open the door for her, she rolls her eyes and walks in—you follow behind.

there are a few familiar faces in the building, some people rushing around and others conversing—it could be mistaken as a lobby at some college, jihyo looks around and is taken aback by the lively atmosphere.

“there you are, where have you been?” a recognizable voice scoffs. you turn to your left and see nayeon, smiling cheekily as she walks towards you and jihyo. you roll your eyes playfully and scoff playfully,

“been avoiding you.” you respond jokingly, and nayeon just laughs.

“who’s this? your girlfriend? been skipping work to be with her or what?” nayeon asks. her inquiry takes both you and jihyo by surprise, making both of you blush.

words stick to the tip of your tongue for a moment and jihyo puts out her hand for nayeon while you compose yourself. “detective park.” she introduces.

nayeon raises her brows and shakes her hand, then looks at you with a quirked brow and the look in her eyes seem to convey an “ooh~” before she responds to jihyo. “im nayeon.”

you clear your throat after they shake hands, “it’s nice to see you again i guess.” you say to nayeon, “but i have to go up and grab something, i’ll see you.”

“yeah yeah, see you. i was on my way out anyway—don’t blow up anything.” she sighs, and you scoff playfully. the two of you smile at each other mischievously before nayeon heads out the doors.

jihyo laughs and you raise a brow, watching her as she shakes her head.

“got all flustered from her asking if i was your girlfriend? what happened to the confidence from before?”

“shut up.” you respond, “let’s just go.”

jihyo laughs as you walk towards the elevators—she can’t see you, but she knows you’re blushing like an idiot.

the two of you reach the 7th floor and jihyo follows you out the elevator.

as you and jihyo make your way down the dimly lit corridor, a sense of anticipation fills the air. the tension is palpable as you approach the lab room. fumbling in your pocket, you retrieve a keycard, silently emphasizing the need for caution as you unlock the door. "stay by my side and stay quiet. we're not supposed to be here," you mumble, voice low and careful.

entering the room, you both are immediately struck by its sheer size. you’ve been here once with another scientist from the company, though only for a brief moment to retrieve information for your article. it's not just a regular room; it's an enormous space dedicated to housing the scientists' most precious possessions—their files, research, and invaluable data.

as your gaze scans the shelves, your heart skips a beat before settling on the section that holds the coveted information you seek. the lights are dim, making it difficult to distinguish one folder from another, but thankfully you’re spiderwoman; your senses are already much more advanced than any person.

with each folder you come across, you murmur the words written on their labels. jihyo watches you intently, captivated by your unwavering focus. there's a certain charm in the way you immerse yourself in the task at hand, it's adorable and there's an undeniable allure to your commitment that draws her in.

“they’re all in alphabetical order… t… u… v… hmmm—ah! w!” you beam. you snatch the folder that reads “watanabe.” a contagious smile dances across your lips, your elation mirrored by jihyo.

“is that what we need?” jihyo asks, turning her head.

“yeah, this is one of the more important files, it has a lot of his research and experiments. i’m also going to look for-“

before you can finish your sentence, an unwelcome intrusion slices through the air, mingling with the palpable fear creeping into your senses when you hear the low tap of footsteps outside the room.

 the threat of being caught floods your mind, driving you into spontaneous action. quickly, you take jihyo’s wrist, urgency pulsating through your grip, and scan the room frantically. from the corner of your eye, a small closet appears. you bolt toward it and drag jihyo with you, then close yourselves inside.

you’re in your head trying to listen to the sound coming from the corridor that you don’t realize the compromising position you’re in.

silent seconds stretch while you two stay cautious and awareness dawns upon you, and your breath halts. one hand is unintendedly situated on the curve of jihyo’s slender waist and the other still grips her wrist. her back is pressed against the closet door, and your senses collide with her proximity, faces and bodies inches apart.

(with how quiet it is in the room, you wonder if whoever was lurking would catch you just from the pounding of your heart.)

you loosen your grip on her wrist and whisper, “sorry.”

“you’ve got a good grip.” jihyo mumbles, “and it’s okay.”

the air hangs heavy, thick with tension. you glance downwards and you’re captivated by the intensity in jihyo's eyes—intimidating and enticing even in the darkened room—and an irrepressible impulse surges within you.

jihyo lets out a shallow breath and peeks at your lips, you take a quick glance at hers before you two gape into each other’s eyes again.

now it’s jihyo’s turn to hold your wrist, and without conscious thought, your heart pounding an adrenaline-fueled rhythm, you lean forward, closing the remaining distance until your lips press against hers.

it’s soft and tender at first, then warm and thrilling. you pull away for a brief moment to utter and apology, which is muffled after jihyo crashes her lips back to you with a doubled intensity. you hum in response and she pulls you closer, making you lean down to match her height.

in the muffled silence of the closet, time becomes a mere afterthought, eclipsed by the pulsating intensity that engulfs you both. the world outside fades into oblivion as your lips meet again and again after parting to tilt your heads in the other direction after a few kisses, and after a couple more you’re changing kissing angles again.

jihyo’s hands trace over your chest, then to your shoulders and at last: your neck. she grips at your hair, tugs and pulls while simultaneously leading the kiss—she’s naturally one to take control. she swipes her tongue against your lip and you let her tongue explore your mouth, earning various hums and small groans.

you pull away to catch your breath and jihyo stops you before you can kiss her again, placing her hand on your chest and adding pressure to it to restrain your eagerness.

“sorry,” you say, cheeks flushed and breath heavy. “too much?”

jihyo laughs softly and shakes her head before responding, “not at all, y/n. it’s just, we should be careful… don’t want you to be too loud—yet. let’s continue later.” your cheeks flush from her remark and jihyo laughs lowly after hearing your breath quiver. “do you think whoever was walking is gone?”

“i- um, i’ll have to listen closer.” you mutter.

jihyo’s hand still rests on your chest, right above your heart—which is beating at an unhealthy pace—and jihyo doesn’t comment on the noticeable pounding against her palm. you pause for a moment and really concentrate your sense of hearing, listening on anything going on outside. jihyo lets you work your magic and smiles when you hum.

“no one outside, it’s clear. i’ll turn invisible and you know, check it out. i’ll let you know if you can come out; when i knock three times then that’s your cue to leave the closet, yeah?” you explain.

jihyo nods and says, “sounds good spiderwoman.” which earns a small chuckle from you. some light seeps in when you open the door, letting jihyo have a glimpse of your face: cheeks tinted pink, your ears are a darker shade, and the smirk on your face is smug.

you plant a kiss on her incredibly soft lips before disappearing from her sight, and jihyo hears a small “cute,” before the door closes. she’s left in the dark closet alone with a warm feeling in her chest—though it’s soon replaced with the realization:

oh my god… i just made out with my boss’s niece.

when you and jihyo reach the floor of the lobby, you two act like you haven’t just violated the privacy of a (now criminal) scientist.

there are two folders, a binder, and some samples from who knows what that were hastily placed inside your bag when you first got into the elevator. the two of you head towards jihyo's car, acting as if nothing has happened, despite having committed something slightly very illegal.

the detective closes her doors and you mirror her action once you sit down, and as you both put on your seatbelts jihyo scoffs, “i can’t believe you got me to do this.”

“it’s for my uncle, and you know, just in case.” you assure, looking at her as she grips the steering wheel a little tight. “in the end i think he’ll be grateful, and it’ll help with the case.”

“i know.” jihyo says, “he can be scary.”

“i’ll take care of him, okay?”

“okay.” she responds before shooting you a small smile, which makes you smile back in return.

when you reach jihyo’s apartment, you take off your jacket and hang it on the hooks on the wall. jihyo does the same with her own jacket and you meet at her kitchen island.

you take out the stolen goods from your back and drop them on the marble counter, jihyo turns on the lamp above to make it easier to read and see. jihyo stands across from you as you take out each file and skim through them, watching your eyebrows crinkle from concentration.

four pieces of paper are taken out of one of the binders—three of them being stapled together—and you quickly read through them. then, you place them on the counter, and your eyes scan the title of a sample before laying it next to the papers.

“this is it.” you sigh, looking down at the messy tapestry of notes and diagrams.

jihyo tilts her head and questions, “what?”

“my uncle’s dna. there’s notes on it and everything, it’s all scribbled here—look.” you respond, flipping the paper over and pushing it towards the detective. jihyo’s eyebrows reflect yours and furrow as she reads the text. her shoulders relax and she turns the paper over to read more, eye’s widening a little as she reads.

you pick up the sample and examine it a bit more as jihyo reads through. she looks back at you and says in disbelief, “watanabe tried to make human lizards?”

“pretty much.” you reply, “my uncle’s a big, bulky guy… watanabe probably tried to fuck with the lizard dna and his genes to make something relatively close—but thankfully, it didn’t work. here, this paper shows the trials and whatnot.” you add, handing jihyo the non-stapled paper.

jihyo sets the small packet down and reads through the one handed to her, examining the various angrily crossed-out sentences, numbers, and notes. she hums at the sight.

“so there’s nothing to worry about?” the detective asks. you nod and respond,

“no, thankfully. i’ll probably show up as spiderwoman and leave a little note to the chief, i should probably get to that soon—tonight.” you admit, leaning against the counter. “i’ll leave you alone for now, sorry for making you do all of this.”

you don’t want to leave, that’s the last thing you want to do. the small silence after you utter your last sentence urges you to pack up and leave, even if the thought of continuing whatever happened in your closet flooded your mind.

“wait,” jihyo says as you start to trudge away towards the window, and you pause in your place as soon as you take a step on the carpet on the floor.

you raise a brow in confusion (hoping jihyo read your mind). “yes?”

“just stay, the sun is already setting.” she says boldly.

 “my uncle would kill me, i’m on house arrest.” you sigh, “getting these to him as spiderwoman would get me off house arrest.”

jihyo frowns and you mirror her expression. “you really can’t stay?” she asks, brows creasing just barely.

“i would if i could.”

“well,” jihyo starts, walking over to you. “before you jump out the window,” she mumbles, now one step away from you. she places her hand on your chest and looks at you with a warm softness in her eyes. she tilts her head, then leans up to press her lips against yours, less aggressive than in the closet, but just as nerve-racking—making your heart beat quicken just from the simple contact.

you practically melt when she kisses you, and your hands instinctively reach for her cheek, cupping it gently. time seems to hesitate when she puts her arms around your neck, and you make sure to savor the taste and feel of her lips on yours.

jihyo pulls away first, but only a little so your lips still brush against each other.

“jihyo…” you mutter, and you can feel her smiling against you—her grin spreads to your own lips.

“if you’re off house arrest tomorrow… we should—”

“yes, please.” you say, “anything you want.”

“didn’t know a kiss was enough to have you so eager.” jihyo snickers gently.

you smirk and press a quick peck. “oh i can be eager—if that’s what you want?”

jihyo rolls her eyes at your stupid (yet tempting) response and pulls away so she can see your face clearly. she gazes at you for a bit, simple appreciating your presence and the faint dimple that appears on your cheek as you smile at her. jihyo fixes your hair, pushing away strands that fall over your face.

“you’re an idiot.”

“you love that though.”

“a lot.” jihyo responds, then presses a kiss to your cheek and smiles. “now go get yourself off house arrest.”

you grin. “yes detective.”

the chief stands at his desk and puts on his coat, then gathers all the papers he had already gone through in his bag. on his desk, a folder suddenly drops down with a smack and the chief jumps, letting out a small yelp.

“hi chief.” a voice says. the chief looks up and he watches the familiar vigilante become translucent, then fully visible after unveiling herself. spiderwoman releases herself from the ceiling and lands on the ground with ease. “gotcha’ some things you’d probably love to look through.”

“what the hell spidergirl—”

“please, i know i’m supposed to mask my identity, but spiderwoman is better. c’mon man, i’m in my twenties.” you groan. the chief looks at you and shakes his head, then picks up the folder that had scared him half to death earlier.

your uncle furrows his brows slightly as he reads the papers (same as jihyo did, you note. at this point everything is reminding you of her—even the bulky man in front of you).

“where— where did you get this? how—”

“told you i’d check it out. nothing to worry about chief, just wanted to ease your worries.” you shrug, “i told you i’m not the bad guy.”

the chief examines you for a moment, looking you up and down before his shoulders drop. he puts the papers back in the folder and stares at it for a couple seconds, exhaling in relief.

“thank you.” he says, “i was… really on edge.”

“anytime.” you say, smiling from under the mask. the chief walks up to you, looking down and narrowing his eyes before softening his gaze. he puts his hand out and you look at it in surprise—as well as confusion.

“let’s keep contact, spiderwoman.” the chief says, “maybe you’re not so bad.” he adds. you hesitate for a moment and stare at his hand for a moment longer before shaking it. the chief doesn’t break your hand, doesn’t pull you in and throw you to the ground—he shakes it professionally and nods. “you’ve earned my trust.”

you want to lift your mask up and show him your proud smile, and a part of you wants to reveal yourself.

“i’m glad. i’m just your friendly neighborhood spiderwoman after all, harmless!” you beam.

“that’s debatable. i saw what you did to that monster.” he responds. you catch the faint twitch of his lips: an almost smile.

“how else could i save everyone?”

“i guess you’re right, get going kid, sun is setting.”

“i told you i’m in my twenties!”

“you really remind me of someone i know spiderwoman.” he says with a breath of amusement, “have a good night, thank you again.” he finally adds before grabbing his bag. the chief walks past spiderwoman without body-slamming her or anything like that; the tall, hefty man simply walks out and leaves spiderwoman speechless.

that’s all it took to get on his good side?

jihyo walks into the building and the routine is the same as always: she greets the front desk lady—rachel was her name, she’s sweet and always has a smile on for anyone talking to her. after her usual friendly greeting, jihyo walks over to her desk and greets the rest of the team.

as jihyo sets her bag down, a familiar face appears and greets the detective.

“hello park, morning.” francis beams, smiling softly at jihyo. francis was one of the newer cops, he was pretty young for one—but great at his job. jihyo was quite fond of him, he was nice and competent.

“morning, how are you?”

“good, good.” he says before yawning, “glad it’s friday.”

“me too.” jihyo responds with a laugh, taking out a few reports from her bag and turning on the computer in front of her.

the detective turns back to the monitor in front of her and gets to typing, looking down at the paper and back up to the screen as she types various letters, numbers, and who knows what at this point.

her mind is completely foggy, she tries to get some work done, tries to copy down the reports and examine them. the only thing she can really focus on is the memory of your lips on hers, and whether you’re off house arrest because she really needs a continuation of what happened in that damn closet.

jihyo flinches at the sudden sound of the voice she’s been missing most and looks down at her desk to see a 16oz paper coffee cup on her desk.

“morning detective.”

“jesus!” jihyo yelps, “don’t do that!”

“i thought you’d get used to it by now.” you snicker. jihyo smiles as you pull a chair up next to her and sit down, sipping on your own beverage. “i’m off house arrest.”

“i can see that.” jihyo sighs, though the tone of her voice doesn’t match the way her heart warms upon your arrival. “shouldn’t you be at work?”

“technically it’s an internship,” you respond, “but i guess it’s my job now, seeing they pay me more than some of the actual employees.”

“well whatever it is you should probably be at the building, no?”

“i have work in less than forty minutes. do you hate my presence that much?” you question, a pout forming. “didn’t hate it that much yesterday—"

the detective punches your shoulder and you wince playfully before jihyo rolls her eyes and takes a sip of the coffee you brought her. “you’re loud, too loud for someone who’s my boss’s blood relative.” she scolds you lowly and sets down the beverage before redirecting her attention back to the screen. “and no, i don’t hate your presence, just don’t want you slacking or getting scolded.” she admits, a smile threatening to form on her lips.

you laugh and gaze at her for a moment, taking in the slope of her nose and catching a glimpse of the small mole on the tip of it. your eyes trace the sharp curve of her jaw, and then your look sets on her lips—the taste and feel lingers in your mind. jihyo pretends to ignore your blatant stare.

“i’ll stop bothering you for a bit, should probably get going anyway and let my favorite detective get to work.” you mumble. jihyo turns as you begin to stand up and furrows her brows. she looks to around quickly and grabs your wrist, making you turn and hum in confusion.

“wait,” she starts, trying to keep you close to her for just a while more, “i just printed something, you should come with me before you go.” you smile at her suggestion and set your coffee down on her desk, then nod.

the walk to the printing room is quite silent, nothing is said or heard other than the click of jihyo’s boots reverberating. when you get to the small room, a man walks out and smiles at jihyo before holding the door for the two of you. the detective smiles back before going in, with you trailing behind.

jihyo goes to the screen of the printer and taps at a few buttons, then sighs, “out of paper, come with me to get some.”

“yes ma’am.”

the paper and supplies room are two rooms down from the printing area, and so the two of you walk down the hall then into the room.

jihyo opens the door and you enter first—what catches you completely off guard is the way your senses are quickly overwhelmed.

without warning, your back is pushed against the closed door and you’re immobilized by jihyo’s body pressing against you. before you can comprehend what’s happening, her warm, soft lips press against yours with a slight aggression and it makes you groan immediately.

your hands find their way to her waist, the other on her upper rib to push her closer into you—craving the warmth and feeling it gives you.

something about making out in a dimmed, small room feels right to the two of you; you’ve made out twice so far and both times have been in relatively similar spaces. this won’t be the last time you make out in a small space.

jihyo pulls away and your brain is hazy, you immediately move yourself closer to capture her lips again.

“fuck,” you sigh in between kisses, “what’s with the sudden—” you get cut off with another harsh kiss, making you groan louder into her mouth. jihyo’s tongue finds its way into your mouth and your hands find their way to her skin, and it makes her shiver from the contact.

every nerve in jihyo’s body wakes as soon as your lips come into contact with her neck, and she stifles a groan when you start to nip at it.

“no marks, not now.” she says dissapointingly.

“later?”

“maybe.” she says, and immediately, a sharp breath leaves her lips when you add a bit of pressure on her waist, squeezing it gently.

a sudden shift in the atmosphere tingles your senses, making your lips detach and actions halt. you shiver at the feeling, instantly pulling away from jihyo and trying to compose yourself.

“someone’s coming, act busy.” you mutter quickly before turning on the light and pretending to busy yourself by reaching for papers on the shelf.

the door opens and you almost flinch at the familiar voice that greets the two of you.

“y/n? jihyo? what are you two doing here?” the chief asks. both you and jihyo stiffen at the sound of who had almost walked in on you. jihyo clears her throat abruptly.

“ah, l/n. i was printing something out and y/n decided to help me out.”

the chief chuckles, “y/n, when do you have to clock in?”

“thirty minutes, figured i’d waste a bit of time with park.” you shrug, “i always make it on time.”

the chief laughs and jihyo tenses her jaw slightly as she smiles at him, fixing her hair and jacket she has on. “well,” the chief starts, “grab me some sticky notes while you’re over there, i’ll let you two converse.” he adds. you nod and grab a stack of pink sticky notes—his favorite color—and toss them at him.

“there you go old man.” you tease.

“watch it,” he says playfully, “and are you sick? your cheeks are so pink.”

again, you and jihyo tense up—you clear your throat before responding, “there’s dust here, i sneezed and rubbed my face too hard.” you lie, almost stumbling over your words when you glance at jihyo.

the chief nods and sighs, “well, don’t get my detective sick.” and with that he exits the room, shutting the door harshly (he’s oblivious to his strength at times), which lets you and jihyo sigh out in relief.

“we need to get a room.” you groan,

“yeah.” jihyo laughs, “are you free tonight?” she asks, and it makes you look at her in surprise, cheeks warming up once again.

“only if you are—and if no one tries to rob a bank.”

jihyo laughs and responds, “i am, and i might just have a room.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” jihyo says, smirking. “if it means anything, my window will be unlocked if someone wants to swing by.”

“hmmm, i’ll keep that in mind.”

jihyo’s jaw tenses and she looks at you in a way that fills your nerves with temptation. “good. now let’s print these out, i need to hand them to the forensics.”

jihyo hums along to a tune playing from her phone as she wipes down the counter next to the stove—it’s a slow melody, something fitting for the dimmed room and quiet night.

she hasn’t seen you in a few hours—though it seems like decades—so she’s cleaning up and wandering around to pass the time.

when she finishes cleaning her countertops she walks over to the sink to wash her hands, still humming along to the melody that fills the room with a soft ambiance. jihyo turns off the sink and the unexpected feeling of two large hands on her waist makes her shriek and turn around quickly.

she calms down when she’s met with your grin, but her irritation quickly replaces the relief and she punches your rib lightly; you wince at the feeling dramatically, clutching your side and pouting.

“hey! what was that for?” you groan, and it makes detective park smile.

jihyo crosses her arms and leans against the counter. “you’re going to kill me one day y/n.”

“aw, am i making your heart beat that fast?”

she punches your shoulder again and says, “oh shut up.” you grin at her cheekily.

jihyo takes a moment to examine you and somehow you’re cuter everytime she sees you. you’re wearing some comfy looking navy sweatshirt paired with black sweatpants, how adorable.

the mood in the air shifts when you run your eyes up and down jihyo, and she seems to have gained some of her own powers from the way she reads your mind. you lick your lips swiftly and smirk—it’s not a big one, but the slight curve of one side of your lips is noticeable.

“i told my uncle i’d be staying with a friend for the night,” you explain, and the tempting look in your eyes is replaced by curiosity with a hint of wonder. “i brought some drinks, got a sweet tooth?”

“i can’t pass down drinks from you.”

“you like strawberry soda?” you ask—jihyo hums. “good. i um— thought… maybe we could watch a movie—or just talk? i don’t know honestly, i’ve just been wanting to see you.” you admit, “i realized we haven’t really had time to you know, go on a date and just hang out without any of it being work or crime related… i wanted to be with you.”

jihyo laughs and she feels her heart thud against her chest. “you’re cute.”

“thanks, but you’re cuter,” you reply, which makes jihyo blush and she tries to hide it by walking over to her living room area. you follow behind and she sits down on her couch, patting down a space for you.

“didn’t know spiderwoman was so romantic.”

“hey hey… spiderwoman is a lot of things.” you huff.

you and detective park—no, just jihyo, sweet, genuine, and crazily pretty jihyo—talk for an hour. it starts off with you explaining that you earned the chiefs trust, then it goes on to complaining about said chief, nothing too new though laughs are shared. jihyo complains about her job and the paperwork that’s been piling on her desk and you complain about your side hustle; jihyo is attentive, listening to you ramble about your spiderwoman story of the recent (and very pretentious) group of high school boys who tried to rob a gas station.

talking with jihyo feels easy, it’s not like you have to force yourself or exaggerate anything; conversing with jihyo feels right.

the whole hour of you two simply sharing sodas and drinks leads to scooting closer, shoulders touching and heads leaned back against the top of the touch.

when silence floods for a bit after you share another anecdote, jihyo takes this time to blatantly admire your face—keeping her look on your lips for a couple seconds longer than the other features.

it’s you who closes the distance this time, no words need to be exchanged when you finally do what the both of you have wanted to do: simply lock lips.

“fuck i missed this,”

jihyo smiles when she pulls away. “it’s been a couple hours, y/n.”

“one minute is already too long.” you mumble before kissing her again.

this time your kiss is slow and soft, not the same crashing of hungry lips against each other, it’s soft, sweet, and you two take your time since there’s no risk of being caught. no rush at all.

in contrast to your previous (rushed, aggressive, and heated) kisses, you both take your time to really appreciate each other’s intimacy.

the new comfort and absent feeling of cautiousness lets you savor the feeling of jihyo’s lips on yours: warm, soothing, and everything you didn’t know you needed. you taste the faint hint of strawberry off her while she cups your face, sliding her fingers to the back of your neck and rubbing her thumb against your skin.

a few minutes (you guess it’s been a few minutes, cant be that long, no? it’s been thirty minutes) pass and the two of you have your hands roaming around, the kisses get needier by the second.

hunger hurriedly takes over and you’re practically eating other’s mouths in no time. despite the change in pace and intimacy, you’re perfectly fine with it; if anything, it’s perfect how it escalated from a simple sweet kiss to whatever is making your cunt throb.

you blindly shift yourselves and jihyo backs up to lay down comfortably on the cushions of the couch. one thing you that made your breath uneasy was the way jihyo tangled her fingers in your hair, especially the way she tugged at it occasionally. her hand rested on your neck at first, then she moved it down to your waist and slid her nimble fingers under your sweatshirt, making contact with your skin. you whimpered unintentionally at the sudden contact, which was not only amusing—but also incredibly alluring to jihyo.

“you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you?” she mumbles, pushing a strand of your hair out of your face. “i think it’s cute how you’re on top of me, but you seem much more shaken up.”

you try to respond to jihyo, but a lump forms in your throat when she pulls back a little more and looks at you like you’re the cutest thing in the world. jihyo slides her hands further up near the middle of your ribs, making your breath hitch.

“didn’t know you’d be this easy to rile up spiderwoman.”

before you can try to respond, she closes the gap you groan into her mouth. with a swift press of her fingers against your skin, you part your lips for her to explore your mouth, then push yourself closer to her. her touch sends a shiver down your spine and the way her tongue takes over in your mouth drives you fucking crazy.

she makes her way down to your neck with soft kisses serving as a trail, then nips at your skin softly, eliciting a soft, breathy “fuck” from you.

jihyo pulls away and you whine. she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and looks into your eyes before mumbling, “you’re cute.”

you smile and your lips meet again, you pull away to murmur against her lips softly, “bedroom?” and jihyo hums in agreement.

the two of you get up from the couch, but your lips are almost unable to part from one another for more than five seconds. you bump into the walls clumsily, which makes you two laugh even as you groan into each other’s mouths—it’s all so heartwarming and cute—and soon you manage to make it to jihyo’s room.

now it’s jihyo’s turn to press you against the door again. you curse lowly as she marks up your neck again and try to feel for the light switch against the wall; you manage to light up the room despite your eyes closing from the overwhelming feeling of jihyo’s skilled lips.

she pulls away for a second and asks, “are you sure you want to-“

“fuck yes, please.” you answer immediately, then cut her off with a hungry kiss that leaves her stumbling back. you kiss her needily and fumble with the edge of her shirt before slipping it off, and when you pull away to gaze at her body you let out a breath of amazement.

jihyo laughs. “you kept teasing me about how i could undress you, but look who’s so eager to have me naked.” she asks, catching you staring at her in awe. you part your lips at the sight of her tremendously toned core and she snickers. “you like what you see?”

“love what i see,” you sigh, “shit, you’re beautiful.”

“let me help you out, i wanna see what’s under there again.”

with a swift movement, she slips off your sweatshirt and you’re both standing close to each other topless.

you were confident enough with your words and jihyo seeing your skin when you had that mask on, but now that it’s just you; you feel a little shy now that you’re a bit revealed in front of jihyo—despite still having a bra on—and you avoid eye contact.

her eyes soften. “you’re so pretty.” she sighs, then kisses you swiftly and sweetly.

the detective is a natural leader, and it’s showing now. she guides you to the bed while exploring the curves and grooves of your body, then she’s straddling you on her queen sized bed.

you pull away and jihyo looks at your dilated pupils—completely taking over your eyes.

“can i— can i take your bra off?”

“of course.” jihyo responds.

your fingers work to unclasp jihyo’s bra and holy shit you’re stunned. your eyes widen and you exhale in amazement.

as embarrassing as it is to admit, you’ve fantasized at the ungodly hours of the night and also during those boring moments at work about seeing jihyo like this. you thought you’d be fine in a situation like this seeing you’ve daydreamed about it—but fuck it’s better than anything you can imagine now that it’s really happening. you pause in your place, halting any action.

“cat got your tongue?”

“i— fuck you’re so pretty jihyo.” you sigh, “can i touch you?”

“of course,” and right after her approval your hand slides up from her waist to her chest.

the way she gasps as you brush your fingers over her nipple is music to your ears, and it does not help the way your cunt throbs. something about the way she groans roughly when you pinch her bud slightly makes you groan in response, muttering a small “holy shit” in response.

you press a chaste kiss on her breast and trail down with your tongue to swirl around the peak of her breast, taking note of what kind of action makes her breath shake the most. the only thing you want to do right now is make her feel good, make her feel the same as you.

“your tits are so fucking nice,” you say, and jihyo lets out a sound that’s a mix of a laugh and a moan.

a couple minutes pass of you shamelessly indulging in jihyo’s tits (something that you could get used to—something that you need to do often) and your lips find their way back to each other. then, jihyo pulls away and she look at you with lidded eyes.

“can i—”

“please,” you interject, “please.”

“whatever you’d like,” jihyo says amusingly, “let me take care of you. i’m gonna make you feel good, okay?”

you nod eagerly and she unclasps your own bra, biting her lip at the new territory revealed. she mutters a compliment and you simply whimper at her words. needless to say, your reactions have jihyo surprised and invested.

she works at your tits for a while, leaving a couple marks in between, under, and on them. you grip at her bedsheets and arch your back at the way she swirls her tongue skillfully around your sensitive areas, you’re practically drowning in bliss and she hasn’t even touched you where you need it most yet.

her lips leave a trail of pecks on your body as she lowers down, and when she reaches your soft tummy her hands tug your pants down.

“hyo, p—please…” you groan, “please touch me.”

jihyo hums and she presses a finger against your underwear, it makes your hips twitch.

she kisses your inner thighs and leaves you breathless, your eyes shut as you press against the mattress. she pulls away and slides your underwear off, tossing it aside carelessly and biting her lip when she meets your core.

a soft peck is pressed on your clit and you let out a stifled moan. gently, she slides her fingers along your walls. she smiles at how aroused you are, feeling the slick that dampens her fingers.

“god, you’re so wet y/n.”

“shut—shut up.”

“excited aren’t you?” she teases, “i like this side of you more than spiderwoman to be honest.”

before you can respond, she latches her mouth onto your pussy and the surge of pleasure makes you groan so loud that it even takes you by surprise. you bite your lip the more she lashes at your dripping center, sucking, slicking, and savoring the sweet slick that seeps out.

your hand immediately reaches for her hair the more she indulges in your pussy, and she groans against you.

you’re not sure how long it’s been since she went down on you, but you’re feeling that knot forming in your stomach the more she tongue fucks you and the more you whine. you’re completely lost in pleasure; a few points of contact from her nose to your clit and tongue to your walls and you’re sent over the edge.

a hoarse, strangled sound between a cry and a moan is heard from you, jihyo continues to savor your sweetness. you push your head back into the mattress and jihyo trails back up to you with kisses.

“holy shit,” you say breathless, jihyo grins while you recover.

“how was it?”

“i— think you know the answer.” you sigh as you prop yourself on your elbows. “i’ve um, i’ve thought about you like this before and— this is better than anything i’ve ever imagined.”

jihyo chuckles and you cup her cheek, then kiss her fervently. she hums into the kiss and you pull away, stroking her cheek with your thumb.

seeing as you’re spiderwoman, you’re naturally quick to recover. your hand moves back to her breast and you brush your finger over her nipple, earning a sharp breath from her.

“my turn to make you feel good.”

with a swift motion, you flip jihyo over and pin her down on the bed. she gasps at the sudden change, and before she has time to process much—you’re already occupied with her boobs.

blindly, you slider her pants and panties off with a quick motion and slide your hands up and down her legs. jihyo’s moans are on the louder side, and they’re strangled too.

you’re so eager to hear her come undone, so eager to leave her a mess. with thumb her clit once, then twice, and then stick your fingers inside—which has jihyo’s nails grasping at your shoulder and her breath shaking.

the more you pump in and out, the closer she is to breaking. you savor each and every moan that reverberates against the walls in her room, making sure the target the spots that make her curse louder than ever. her hands uncontrollably grip at your tricep, then your shoulder, and soon she’s gripping your hair, which has you groaning against her chest shamelessly while you mark it up.

“y-y/n, oh— i’m close, i-i’m— keep going,"

with the overwhelming sensation of your tongue swirling around her nipple and the way your thumb presses against her clit—she’s breathing heavily, shaking, and soon enough she’s trembling after a loud yelp. she mutters a string of curses and does what you had done before, sinking into the mattress and once you pull away from her chest to gaze at her; she pulls you in for a messy, sensual kiss.

the two of you stay like that for a while, kissing tiredly and sloppily before you fall over beside her on the bed.

“god, y/n…”

“did you like it?” you ask. the smug smirk on your lips makes jihyo sigh amusingly and she shakes her head playfully.

“of course i did.”

“we should…” you begin, “do this more often—if you’re fine with that.”

jihyo laughs and you lay your head on her chest.

“i’m more than fine with it, spiderwoman.”

when jihyo wakes up, she feels an extra warmth on the left side of her body.

she looks down and looks at the face squished in her chest which makes her smile immediately. you’re breathing gently and one arm is draped across her body, loosely resting above her waist.

“like my boobs that much?” she chuckles softly, tracing her finger along your soft skin. you grumble into her and sigh, waking up to the low sound of her voice.

you blink three times—though the first two times were slow and lazy—then shift closer into her. your hand presses her against you more, and you tangle your leg with hers before mumbling, “morning.”

she laughs at the lower tone of your morning voice and kisses your forehead. “good morning y/n.”

after rubbing your face against her shoulder, you push yourself up and prop yourself up on one elbow. jihyo laughs at your squinted, tired eyes before you tickle her with kisses on her jaw and neck.

“jihyo,” you begin—she hums in response. “do you think we rushed this?” you ask, referring to whatever relationship you two have now as you slide your along the skin over her ribs.

“hm, i don’t think so. you’ve already been saying a lot of suggestive things prior to this.”

“you liked it though.”

“maybe.” jihyo says, rolling her eyes. you drop back down onto the bed and return to nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck, kissing it once before closing your eyes again. “y/n,” jihyo says again, this time with a tone that makes you open your eyes again.

“yes?”

“what would your uncle say if… if he knew his detective slept with his niece?”

now your eyes widen and your body tenses. “shit.” you groan. jihyo laughs and you sit up quickly. “how bad did you mark me?”

“let’s hope there’s a store nearby that has concealer in your shade y/n.”

[ddejavvu]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE can we get reader being harassed by some guy in an alleyway and hotch is walking by with the team (perhaps going to get drinks after wrapping up a case) AND HE LIKE STEPS IN AND THREATENS THE GUY?? MAYBE EVEN FLASHES HIS BADGE OR SM. Basically I'm thirsty for some protective!hotch <3

You're reminded of how unpredictable life can be when you're yanked backwards unexpectedly, tugged into the darkness of a shadowed alley between two buildings. Five seconds before you'd been thinking about dinner, and now you're not sure you'll live to see another meal.

"Cash," The man grunts, his mouth pressed to your ear as his arm cuts tight around your neck, "I need cash."

"My- my bag," You whimper, frozen stiff in fear and rendered useless, "I- I don't have much, but you- you can take it."

He throws you forwards, ripping your bag off of your shoulder in one fluid motion. He rifles through it while you relearn the art of breathing, but before he can pull your measly collection of bills from the inside pocket of your wallet, there's a gun over your shoulder pointed at his head.

For a moment, you're so dazed that you honestly think you might be holding it. But you don't have a gun, and your wrist doesn't have the dark, wiry hair on it that you see beneath a grey sleeve of whoever's got the weapon.

"Drop the purse, and the knife." A voice booms through the alleyway, deep and firm. If it was directed at you, you'd spook like a horse, and your assailant looks properly terrified.

"It's just a little cash, man," Your attacker tries, "I- I know her! She's my girlfriend."

Your savior knows he's lying before you shake your head vigorously, but you do it anyways, because sitting there and doing nothing feels wrong.

"You've already assaulted someone in front of a federal agent, don't make it worse for yourself by lying about it, too. You're lucky I don't have my cuffs with me or I'd haul you into the back of my SUV and take you down to the station right now. Instead, you're going to drop the purse, and the weapon, and run as fast as you can, because the more time you sit there and let me look at you, the better my chances are of describing you to a sketch artist and placing a warrant out for your arrest."

By the middle of the man's speech, your attacker is trembling just as much as you are. He drops your bag and his knife on command, barely avoiding tripping over the edge of the gutter drain as he flees the scene.

As soon as the gun isn't necessary anymore, the man behind you stashes it in a holster, but you can't see, your back feels permanently adhered to the wall you'd backed up against.

"You're okay," The man assures you, and his voice is much more soothing at a softer tone. He bends to gather your purse, tucking a tube of chapstick back into its confines before holding it out as a peace offering to you.

"He's gone," He promises, ducking down where your eyes are stuck to peer worriedly at you. He has a handsome face, but it's pinched in concern, big brown eyes dripping with care, "And I will put that warrant out for his arrest. Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"No," You breathe, still pressed to the wall even as you shake your head, "No, he- Thank you, I- I don't know what I would have done without you."

"I usually show up to these things a little late," He grimaces, dropping your purse back down to his side and holding out an empty hand instead, "Can I help you get where you were going?"

"Home." You mutter, "I was- I was going home. After work."

"I can drive you there, if you'd like." He offers, pleased when you reach out with a shaky hand to take his own, "Or we can walk, whichever you prefer. I just want to make sure nothing else happens."

"Um, I- I can pay for a ride. Here," You take your purse back, tugging a bill out that you're lucky to still possess, "If- it's just down the street, if you really don't mind."

"Keep it," He pushes your hand back towards your purse, "I just stopped a guy from taking your money, I'm not gonna do the same. My car's right outside, okay? Let me help you there. And- uh," He rifles through his jacket, "I wasn't lying about being an agent." He showcases a black-covered badge, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner written in bold lettering beneath his name, "You'll be safe with me."

"Okay," You nod, accepting the hand that he holds your arm with to ease you off of the wall and onto your shaky legs, "Uh, thank you, Agent- Hotchner."

"No need." He murmurs, eyes scanning the crowd to make sure there's no sign of your assailant, "Let's just get you home safe, honey."

[mary-kasexual]

In honor of lesbian visibility week, I present a full list of female characters from Total Drama who have canonically shown no attraction to men! (as far as I'm aware)

Staci - Only present for one episode and only spoke for one episode, having no lines in the finale. None of these lines hint at Staci displaying any interest in men.

Dawn - The closest thing I could find was the "I didn't know you were a beetle whisperer!" scene, but even then, that could easily be read as platonic. Svetlana - Similar case to Staci in that her lines are pretty limited due to being actively suppressed by Mike or Mal. However she has not, in fact, said anything that hints at her liking men in those few lines.

Sammy & Amy - Other than that one "Topher thinks you're fat" line of dialogue (which could easily be played off as Amy trying to mess with her), neither of them have shown any on-screen interest in men.

Scarlett - The only extensive interaction she has with men are Max, whom she DESPISES, and their alliance is only romantically framed for the sake of a gag.

Sugar - Nothing in canon hints at her liking men. She admires Leonard, but this is most likely due to his perceived magical abilities rather than any sort of attraction as she displays a similar interest in Max later on.

Tammy - Similar case to Staci, she only had a very brief speaking role in episode 1 and never in these lines was it implied she was attracted to men.

Mary & Ellody - Only here for a short time (with Mary only having dialogue in the episode she was eliminated in rip), but neither of them express interest in guys.

Laurie & Miles - Same deal as Mary and Ellody, they go pretty early overall but haven't been shown to like men.

Jen - You'd expect someone of her character archetype to mention looking for 'cute guys' or something similar, but surprisingly no? The closest thing she has would be her friendship with Tom, which is treated as 100% platonic by the show even if you don't take into account the fact that Tom is gay.

Taylor - Another surprising one imo, it's never stated or implied that she likes guys in the show, not even a passing mention from what I've seen which I could've sworn happened on first watch. Mandela effect I guess 🤷

Josee - Similar deal to Jen as far as I'm aware, being that her closest relationship to a guy is with a gay man and treated as platonic throughout the race.

Sanders - Pretty clear-cut, no scenes of her expressing interest in men or romance in general.

MacArthur - "What about Brody?" The only time she's shown to return his affection is during the finale and she's actively trying to throw him off his game by using his crush against him. She only asks Brody to call her in the Surfers ending, which she doesn't do at all in the Cadets ending implying that she's most likely only in it for the money.

Scary Girl/Lauren - While she does hold an interest in Damien, nothing in canon says she's attracted to him, only to the sound of his screams.

Nichelle - Too busy having no lines to talk about boys. seethingwithrage

Millie - Zero attraction to men in canon, the most interactions she has are with and about Priya. She's sorta friendly with Damien, but it doesn't rise anywhere above platonic (probably because she shoved him into a meat grinder but who knows) and actively seems to be disgusted by or otherwise pretty averse to most of the male cast.

MK - Has never been shown to be interested in guys or even romance in general. In fact, she actively seems to dislike it as seen in the episode where Caleb and Priya kiss where she goes “Yeah, that was sweet, but it’s also how you get mono” (this is ace mk propaganda btw). There was also Nichelle's intro in season 1 when she was looking at her starry-eyed, clearly a joke but yk still noteworthy.

Julia - My favorite lesbian <3 zero attraction or hints at attraction to men in canon + listen... we all watched season 2 you know what I'm talking about don't lie. The closest things she has to romantic interactions with men in canon are at most one-sided and always with her actively disliking said man on the other side (Wayne + maybe Ripper in season 1).

[akajustmerry]

I didn't really like the helmet grab by Michonne in towl. I didn't think it was necessary for them to make her do that even though I know they were trying to show how angry she was. Am I overthinking this?

forgive me but I actually think you're not thinking enough. You're not thinking about what's happened from michonne's perspective. even if you were, you're not extending her any empathy because writing off her as just "angry" does not cut it here

....Michonne had to carry on believing rick was dead for FIVE YEARS, raising their kids despite that grief and then when she was given the smallest hope he was alive she gave up another 2 years with her kids, risking her life in the wastelands, surviving chlorine poisoning, and enduring more fucking trauma with nothing keeping her going but the fact that she loved him and would not give up looking...... AND THEN she finds him against all those odds and rick had the CAUCACITY to try and trick her into ABANDONING HIM and insinuate that she DOESN'T TRULY LOVE HIM UNLESS SHE DOES??? of fucking COURSE she rips that dumb fucking helmet off his head!! she wants him to say that nonsense to her FACE, hear how insane it sounds, and be greeted with the only appropriate response to an assertion so ludicrous: silence.

When my dad and I watched that episode we both agreed rick actually got off easy for trying to pull that shit after what michonne had been through. My dad even left the room when rick was bragging about his stoopid plan to trick michonne into leaving to jadis because my dad is very sensitive to second hand embarrassment and rick was so fucking idiotic for trying to do that to michonne and thinking it would work.

ALSO.....something that I've ranted about before is this idea of an empathy gap between how people see white characters and characters of colour (ESPECIALLY Black characters) because such is the racism of the world that people simply don't empathise or even sympathise with characters of colour because they've been conditioned not to. Years of racist media conditions you to empathise with white characters almost instinctively even when they're wrong. In this case, rick was wrong. Totally wrong, despite his intentions. He was dishonest, condescending, and inconsiderate. Michonne had every right to be angry and every right to show him how angry she was. The fact that you're uncomfortable with that maybe means you haven't really paid mind to what michonne has been through and maybe you haven't done that because she's a Black woman. Personally, I loved that scene so much and I also love all the scenes in ep4 where she's pissed off because michonne isn't just rick's love interest she's a protagonist in her own right and she's NEVER not once accepted less, even from him.

anyway, hope you don't think I'm being mean! I've just seen weird discourse about that scene that is so unnecessary. It simply wouldn't be a thing if people actually cared about michonne as a character, rather than just as one half of a ship.

[blackphanto]

Trying to overanalyze Lucifer's design

The Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale was fucking insane. I loved everything and especially Lucifer, whom I am dedicating this post to.

Let's begin with his "normal" form

Lucifer wears a ringleader costume bc Hell is one giant circus and he's the ringleader, but did you know that there's actually more to it?

A ringmaster, -mistress or -leader is like the opening act of a circus. They show you around, introduce the other acts and keep you hooked. They are essentially the glue that keeps the circus together. Another definition of a ringmaster, -mistress or -leader talks about an actual leader who leads a group of people, mostly through the act of doing illicit or unlawful activities. A role that would suit Lilith better than Lucifer. Sins could be seen as unlawful activities in Heaven's eyes and Lucifer is the cause of how evil found its way to earth, one could say that he was the one to lead the sinners in their sinful behavior in life. Yet, in death - if we go by Charlie's storybook - Lilith was the one leading the sinners to rise up against Heaven, another illicit activity that has led to their eventual doom.

Luci also wears a top hat with his crown on top of it. The hat gives him some extra height so I doubt that he wears it for any other reason. His crown is mostly covered with a snake and a red apple on the side. The snake can have 2 meanings: 1) how the word 'seraphim' in Hebrew can be translated to 'fiery serpent', due to his six wings, Lucifer is likely a seraph. 2) he was the serpent that tempted Eve, although never confirmed in any religious text, this idea of him being that snake is really popular in every reiteration of that story. This would also be why there's an apple motive following the Morningstars. Now let's move on to...

Angelic/demonic form

I don't think what we are seeing here is his full angelic/demonic form, but considering that the other Princes' forms aren't as scary either it is likely the case. The first thing that caught my attention were the horns and overall resemblance this form has to Charlie's, but let's focus on the differences.

In the first image, the snake and apple have turned into some sort of halo, a nod that his actual halo has disappeared when he fell and unlike Vaggie his wings probably didn't get ripped off, but I do believe they were different to how they were when he was behind the Pearly Gates. He has a tail and horns, classic demon imagery, there are 6 eyes at the end of his coat and there's one more on his bowtie, which makes a total of 8 eyes on Lucifer's design. The eyes are a common returning motive in Heaven and with angels.Luci also has a flame in-between his horns. This honestly reminded me of Baphomet, but they would likely be a Candle head from the Sloth ring. In the Bible, fire is often depicted as the presence of God, but I'm a firm believer that Hazbin has a deistic God view (see my other post), so I doubt that's the case here. The fire was likely chosen because Hell is associated with fire and he's the king of Hell so they thought it would make sense.

Like father, like daughter

As stated before, Lucifer and Charlie share a lot of similar elements. She's essentially him without wings and with longer hair. They both have a red sclera with a yellow iris. Their tail is pitch black with a heart cut out at the end and despite having white skin, Lucifer's arms are greyish. I always thought they were gloves, but no, man's face doesn't match his hands. I really like this shot of them right here, they look so badass!

Charlie also seems to be getting a new ability which has to do with her arm getting bigger and blocking Adam. This might be a callback to whatever was going on with her arm in her first design.

That was it thanks for reading <3

[adventuringblind]

Pieces From You

Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

Genre: Ghoulverse Hurt-comfort

Summary: Carlos catches fleeting moments of pain through his mating bond. When he finds her being cut open, Carlos has to act fast and choose between revenge and saving the girl he loves.

Warnings: Blood, Ghouls eat people and is a major plot point, gore, Jos Verstappen's A+ parenting, abuse, anxiety, hospitals, mentions of sexual things, Landoscar being chaotic, protective big brother Max

Notes: For 🏍, I loved getting to write for my ghoul boys again, so I really hope you like it! T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not like he was planning to run around the paddock like a maniac. It was the last thing he wanted to have on his agenda for today. However, the tie between him and his mate has him searching for her.

Whatever is causing her this pain needs to be eliminated. Carlos is doing his best to keep himself steady as he searches. He has a feeling he already knows what's happening. Or, at the very least, has an idea.

Max's baby sister had been on the unfortunate end of not receiving whatever gene makes them ghoul. Despite being pureblooded and the rest of her family having it. An anomaly that's made her different; a black sheep in her own home. That being said, Max has always been obnoxiously protective of her despite their fathers wants.

Carlos had seen the scars and bite marks. He'd seen the way she'd offered herself up on a silver platter when Max first introduced them all those years ago. It was customary for her, apparently, to let ghouls take a piece of her body. It hurt knowing even her father has taken bites out of her. Most likely, that’s what is happening now despite the fact she has his bonding venom seeping through her veins.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realize the what was happening between them. That the mating call was there. Max was just a protective batard that wouldn’t let him anywhere near her until he proved himself. Which - considering her situation - made Carlos feel a little better.

Max had tried his best; he’s still trying his best. The piece of horn Max burned off for her rests against her neck. Carlos’ joined beside his while they were dating. He discovered how bad it hurts to lose a piece of the bone. Yeah, it’ll grow back, but in the moment he was a blubbering mess and she was the one holding his hand.

With two horn pieces and a scarred over bonding mark, this shouldn’t be happening anymore. Nobody should be laying a finger on her; on his mate.

Carlos makes his way to the Redbull garage. He’d spent the last hour in debrief and already searched all of his. If she’s not there, then she’s probably around Max. Or was trying to be around him and got separated. Worse - max could be the source of her pain. Prince of the ghouls or not, he won’t hesitate to rip him apart if that’s the case.

He dives into the Redbull garage and follows his nose. Not the best of his species but it works. It’s his ears that work better and as he turns a corner, he finds he doesn’t need his nose anymore. Carlos can hear her wailing for either himself or Max. the latter must not be around if he’s not already fighting whoever has the audacity to try and hurt Carlos’ lover.

He slides around the corner and snarls at the, ironically, human offender. She's wailing at the man, trying to shove him off but failing despite her best efforts. It doesn't help this guy has gravity on his side with a knee in her chest. He's carving out pieces of her, slowly and methodically.

The red on the floor and the tang of metal burning his nose. He has to do everything in his willpower not to make a show of it. If he risks himself, he can't help her.

He settles for dragging the man backwards, wrestling the knife away from him. "Funny, I thought humans didn't eat people." Carlos tosses the struggling body to the side and makes for the girl on the floor.

"Pretty bite mark on her neck, wouldn't you say?" The cocky smile on the mans face nearly sends Carlos into a frenzy. "Figured I should show her what's gonna happen eventually."

"Ah yes, hurt the innocent because that's how to win them to your side." This time - he does abandon the original plan and flashes his elongated canines at him. Carlos' eyes darken when the man shrinks backwards and hauls ass in the other direction. Carlos will deal with him later.

With nothing else around to try and stop the bleeding, Carlos sheds his own shirt and wraps it around the gaping wound in her. He should not be able to see that much of the under part of her skin.

"I tried to get him off-"

"I know, you did so well amor. Just keep your eyes on me now, yeah?"

He pulls out his phone and rings Lando. He silently pleads that the Brit picks up because there is no way Carlos is going to get into emergency with her like this. Not when it's standard to test everyone who walks through the doors.

"Hola~ You've reached Lando!"

"Need you in the Redbull garage."

Carlos can hear Lando's chipper mood fade away. "Everything alright?"

"Need your human self to get her to emergency. Also, bring Oscar with you." The girl underneath him whines as he tries to keep pressure on the wound.

"And why would you need my mate for considering he can't get into emergency either?"

"Well - I'm going to need him to stop me and Max from doing anything stupid."

~

Carlos and Max are pacing the floor. He feels like he's explained the situation to the Dutch a hundred time now and he's still not computing.

"But he was human?"

Oscar knocks his head against the door. A smart move, considering it's the only exit. "He was proving a point."

"It was the wrong one," Max huffs and crosses his arms. Twenty-six now and Max still has the ability to look like Carlos' seventeen year old teammate who pouted when his voice cracked. His sister had been younger then and Max wouldn't let her near the track; not until she was an adult. Even then it was a pain.

His phone rings with Lando's contact. The Facetime call makes him hope that he'll get to see his girl awake.

Lando's face fills the screen, a little smile on his face. "I figured you would want proof of life." He pans the camera over to her and the blinking heart monitor and her blinking eyes. She tries to smile at him, but it's lopsided. "Her arm is pretty messed up and they are getting ready for surgery, but she'll be alright."

Carlos' heart settles a bit. He won't be able to calm completely until she is back in his arms. It helps know that she is at least okay and breathing.

Max throws himself in front of Carlos’ phone screen. “Thanks for being with her Lando.”

“I can’t have my emotional support tribe human dying on me! I would die with the three of you all alone! Oscar could dick me down for days and I still would be stressed!”

“Are you saying my dick isn’t good enough?” Max and Carlos turn to look at Oscar as Lando is now blushing furiously on the phone screen.

“That’s not - you know that’s not what I meant!”

There is nothing more terrifying than Oscar's calm expression with the slightest hint of a smirk. "Uh-huh, nice try. If you can walk tomorrow, then you're not walking anywhere until you can't do it without stumbling."

There is a slurred laugh of Carlos' love echoes through the speakers of the phone. "Maybe Lando will be in here with me."

Carlos can't help but lose it. All he wants is to wrap her up in his arms. Let Lando try to outrun Oscar and laugh when he's limping to the airport and can't sit right on Max's jet.

Really, he just wants her.

"When will the surgery be done?"

"They are estimating late tonight, depending. Might be faster than that."

Carlos looks at Max and Oscar. "I think we have time to do some hunting, wouldn't you say?"

He receives a couple of smirks in return.

~

She cracks her eyes open, disoriented, and groggy. Her arm hurts, and the memory of being pinned hits her harder than ever.

She sits up in a hurry, franticly looking to see if she's alone. Lando appears in the corner of her eye and gently pushes her back down. "You're alright now. Doctors got you all patched up." He smiles at her gently despite the hesitancy in his eyes.

"Where's Carlos?" Her voice is in shambles and makes her cringe.

Lando keeps a hand on her bicep. "He's with Max and Oscar. Want to see if he'll pick up?"

She nods her head yes, excited to see her savior. Though her plans are foiled when her doctor cones in. Her eyes widen at seeing the male, not the same one, but similar to her attacker.

She stays small and quiet as he goes about his work, checking her charts. He leans down to listen to her heart and whispers. "I saw the mark, don't worry, I'm one of them. I know how to get your mate in here if you would like?"

Both her and Lando are nodding frantically. The waiting is miserable, but they pass the time with light conversation and cartoons.

The doctor comes back in with the three ghouls in tow. They are chatting away like nothing is the matter. He does another once over if her vitals before leaving them to their own devices.

As in, she drags Carlos into the bed with her. He takes the side that has her good arm and cradles her injured arm gently. He gently runs his fingers along the bandages. "He's gone now. You won't ever have to worry about him again."

She peers up into his eyes. "Why's that?"

The three ghouls share a look, and Lando gives Oscar a skeptical glare. "What did you three do?"

"Revenge tastes delicious sometimes." Max giggles and winks at her. To most it be unsettling. To her, it brings a sense of comfort.

Later into the night, when the other three boys are asleep, she lays away on Carlos' chest. He's been trying to get her to sleep for an hour now, but there is an unsettling anxiety after today's events. There are too many possibilities.

"Sleep, mi amor. I can feel you thinking too much."

"I'm scared... it's not just my dad anymore. I thought I would be able to flash my mating mark and be safe. It's the humans, too, though. Am I... am I like them now? If I'm not giving myself to solve the problem, then am I adding to it?" It feels to say it aloud. All those heavy thoughts finally lifted off her chest.

Carlos continues his soothing motion on her head. He tucks her closer to his chest. "You never have been and never will be a problem. It's others who fight amongst themselves over mindless disagreements and differing opinions. You are someone who can understand us. You don't intend on hurting anyone." She can feel his love for her radiating through her veins as he continues. "What happened today wasn't your fault. That was someone else being cruel because they were scared."

"You are my everything, Carlos. I just want to help."

"You help me by being alive; by being yourself. A fighter who isn't afraid to throw herself in front of an apex predator if it means protecting them."

Carlos looks at her with adoration in his eyes. He cups her face gently, fingers brushing over the bite mark on her clavicle as he moves upward.

"I couldn't have chosen anyone better. You are perfect, and in time, I think you're going to make this world a better place."

With the need for reassurance her mind was craving now sated, she rests peacefully. Immune to the world around her and safe in Carlos' arms. It's a good feeling to know that he's not just protecting her; she's doing the same for him.

... Even if it isn't always the outcome she wanted.

[thatfreshi]

Little Stars and Such (Astarion x Reader)

It's here, the piercing fic, in which body-modded Tav gives Astarion hella piercings. I made a previous post with his piercing map in case you guys don't know the terms (I basically didn't until yesterday)

Tw - needles, implied sex

Recommended Song: Gregg's Woods - Alec Holowka

For the past couple of days, Astarion has been asking quite a few questions about your piercings. You had adorned your nose and face in tiny pieces of metal, all done by hand. Your little collection has grown over time, most recently with an eyebrow piercing once you settled down in Baldur's Gate once again.

"Do they hurt?"

"Like, when you pierce them? Yeah. You get used to it though. Surprised you don't have any honestly, elves are known for having the most elaborate piercings."

He stays silent for a moment, and you realize he wouldn't know that.

"Wasn't exactly a thing Cazador just let us do. Body modifications were mostly limited to demonic scars and being cut up for fun."

"Right... sorry."

"Don't be."

The conversation ended pretty abruptly, but picked up the next day while you were swapping out your nose ring.

"Do you ever get scared that your little ring will get caught on something and rip out of your nose?"

A sudden question, but a welcome one.

"I mean, sometimes, but not many people are that close to my nose. Unless you're planning on ripping out my piercing?"

You eye him suspiciously and he smirks.

"Oh, I would never."

This goes on for days, little prodding questions about all your accessories. One morning, while the two of you are lying in bed, you catch him staring at the helix on your ear.

"Astarion do you... do you want a piercing? Because I can do them. I mean I did these to myself."

"I've been thinking about it. I'm just a little nervous is all."

"Why my love?"

"I mean, I've never really had the freedom to do what I want with my body, in a lot of ways. That's one of those things I never got to explore, all the body modifications people are oh so familiar with. I suppose I could've done one with an embroidery needle if I was desperate, but that's just not something I had the liberty to think about."

You move a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"Well, you have the freedom to do whatever you want now."

"Then perhaps I'd like a couple."

"A couple? You don't wanna start with one?"

"Nonsense! One would be sad and pathetic, and we know I am a man of extravagance."

"Alright, if you insist."

You then grab a notebook sitting on the bedside table, and begin to draw out a plan for his piercings. Astarion insists that he only wants them on his ears, because he doesn't want anything to ruin his perfect face. As you're sketching, you continue to talk.

"You know this is gonna suck, right? Since your ears are so sensitive?"

"Sensitive? What makes you say that."

You blankly stare at him until he gives up.

"Okay fine, but I'm sure it can't be that bad!"

"I don't know. I mean I'm going to stab multiple holes through your ears. You barely like them being touched."

"I've been through enough pain. Nothing compares to jagged cuts in your back, I promise."

There are many moments like that, where he says something tragic that you just can't bring yourself to argue with. Without another word, he curls up against you, and the two of you discuss the options he has. Eventually, you settle on five on each side, because he INSISTED they be symmetrical.

"Tav, what kind of idiot would I look like if I had one ear with a bunch of shit on it, and one just, empty?"

"I guess you're not wrong."

He decides on two helixes, two lobe piercings, and a daith. You're a little surprised that he's going all out on this, but you don't mind. Everyone has that thing that lets them feel free, the thing they finally do to show the world 'I'm my own person.' Besides, if he didn't like them he could simply let them heal back up, forget this ever happened.

You go to grab your little makeshift piercing kit, full of fine needles you've collected over time, just in case you ever lose some.

"Now, you'll have to wear some of mine since you don't have your own earrings yet, but I'm sure you won't mind because my collection is amazing."

He sits up in bed, his shirt sleeve softly draping off his shoulder. If he could still be in the sun, you'd imagine a beam of light coming through the window right now, illuminating his face. You sit beside him, gently placing the box of needles by your feet.

"Alright, I'm gonna walk you through this as I do it, and if you want to stop at any time we can."

"Thank you my love."

The thought crosses your mind, that he'd probably not let any other soul on the planet do this kind of thing. Any time he's let someone else have control over his body, it's been riddled with sin and scars. But you? You've always been kind, soft, present. That's one thing he loves most about you, that he feels like he can be present. Not drifting off somewhere else, not closing off his mind to defend himself, not playing a chess match in his head. It's, easy. Life is easy now, and isn't that something wonderful?

"Alright, we're gonna start on the lobe. You feel the needle?"

You hold it lightly against his ear, and he shivers a little.

"Mhm."

"Alright, don't tense, but it's gonna hurt."

You hear the air escape through his teeth as the needle goes through. A pretty clean job if you do say so yourself.

"Well?"

You put in a dangling gold moon, waiting to see how he feels.

"Painful, but not horrible."

"Want to go again?'

"Of course."

He says it a little suggestively, and you give him a playful push.

"Save it for later imp."

You continue with his piercings, taking small breaks in between for conversation. You've continued adorning his ears with astral-themed jewelry, little stars and such. By the time you've finished the last one, you're quite pleased with your work. Astarion almost doesn't let you put the last earring in since he's so excited to see what you've done. He had Gale teach him mirror image a while ago, so he could finally see his reflection whenever he wanted. After casting it and giving his ears a look, he smiles.

Astarion laughs at your comment, giving one of those genuine smiles you used to rarely see. You silently curse the people that took that smile from him, wondering how anyone could see this specimen and torment him. He's like a pixie, a little trickster, someone you could pick up and hold forever. You know you're probably the only one who sees him that way, the only one who would call him cute, but he is. He enjoys it, being viewed as something that isn't devious or sexual, but a bright presence. You told him once how it's ironic that he can't be in the sun, because he was probably sunnier than the sun itself. He'd never let you tell anyone else that though.

"I... I think I quite like them."

"I do too. It's fitting."

You plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Worth the pain?"

"Most things are my love. Like you."

His hand meets your face, taking you into a deep kiss. When you break away, you whisper in his ear.

"I think they make you sexier too."

A chuckle under his breath, lips meeting again, and the morning is soon wasted away in bed. What a joy, to wake up every day with him, with someone living their life anew. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Neither of you know, but it's exciting none-the-less.

[youwouldneverbreakthechain]

I don't like the Found Family trope.

There, did I get your attention? It's true, but the question is, why is Guardians of the Galaxy still one of my favorite stories in any medium ever?

Something really clicked for me with the ending of Vol. 3 (spoilers ahead, natch). The team broke up and that kind of development is usually heartbreaking, because we love the team, they love each other, now that they've found each other why should they ever part ways?

The answer is that they're a family, and that's what families do. Growing up means leaving the parents who raised you and finding a path of your own, maybe to someday continue the cycle with kids of your own, but never losing what you got from your first family. Those people, who you can't choose, will always be a part of you.

Each of the Guardians, aside from Drax, had their childhoods interrupted by traumatic events. They didn't get to finish growing up naturally, and that loss hounded them all their lives. When they found each other they began to heal, but here's what I didn't realize until the end of the trilogy: the family that they found with each other wasn't the kind that you make when you grow up. It's the kind that you grow out of.

From the beginning, Peter has shown signs of "Peter Pan Syndrome," acting like a little boy even though he's highly skilled, courageous, and compassionate. His maturity gradually began to show through, but one quirk that kept coming up was his refusal to return to Earth. No good reason for it except that he couldn't bear the reminder of his mother and he was ashamed to face his grandfather. He can handle it now because his life with the Guardians gave him the stability he needed to become a true adult.

Gamora's new incarnation doesn't need the Guardians because she found the Ravagers instead. We don't know much about them but I expect that what they did for Yondu, they'll do for her too. In the meantime, Nebula's had a few good years of being loved and now she can follow the footsteps of the Gamora who was lost, aside from falling for Peter, because that's unlikely to ever work again.

Groot's been the most fortunate, not having his youth cut short or taking any serious trauma since he sprouted. Eventually he may want to strike out on his own, but until then it's good that he can stick with Rocket.

Mantis seemed more aware than anyone of their internal struggles, including her own. Which is appropriate, her being an empath and all. She really made the boldest possible move, going it alone, and I'm proud of her. Hoping she'll make an appearance in The Marvels or something else before reuniting with Peter and/or the Guardians.

Drax is a special case and the one who I thought was most likely to die, since it seemed like his arc was all wrapped up: he had his childhood before we met him and it was his adulthood that was ripped away from him. Revenge was his entire deal and Ronan and Thanos are dead now, so what's left for Drax? Well, it turns out revenge doesn't have to be his entire deal and now I'm embarrassed I ever thought otherwise.

Rocket...oh, Rocket. We always knew that he was something other than what nature had intended, and that was on top of the nonstop physical and emotional abuse, but now it turns out he already lost the only three people who put anything good into his sad little life. Since there was nothing to salvage from his upbringing, he was the one who needed the Guardians the most, so he's the only founding member to stay. But no mistake, it matters that he's staying as the leader. He's not alone, but he's not under anyone's control, either. He knows who is now and he knows his worth.

The "don't call me a raccoon" running joke always bothered me a little but I never dreamed it would have a payoff like it did in Vol. 3. Rocket claiming his full name is much more than a nod to his comic origins. It's his understanding of where he began and the injustice that was done to him, his acceptance that he wasn't at fault for the deaths of his first companions and that he does deserve to be loved by the Guardians.

That's the foundation that lets everyone part ways without having to ask each other if this means their relationships are over. As far as I've seen, no other found family in fiction has reached this point - the team is generally the endgame, and if someone leaves, things will never be the same again.

In a real family, a good one, when someone leaves we celebrate. Congratulations on your first apartment. Good luck at college. Blessings on your union. Just remember, you can always come home again. Our arms are open for you.

[hazelnut-u-out]

Do you think about the whole Rick Prime thing? Did it kinda feel anticlimactic???

Yeeahhhhhh, but... I think that's the point!

At first, I was a little bit disappointed with how they handled the arc. I really thought Prime was going to be the Big Bad! Having the whole climax of C-137's arc with Prime as a mid-season episode felt oddly... dismissive? It was like it wasn't even a major event.

After sitting on this for a bit, I think I actually love how they've handled it. I think this is the first time I've really seen the show take something that perfectly fills a 'Television Run' format (i.e. big events at the ends of the seasons for cliffhangers, and so on) and subvert those expectations into something more like 'Real Life.' In my opinion, a lot of the show is shown as how characters involved view the events, especially in terms of tonality. That's why so much of the show fits these media formulas-- Rick views his life as a show.

I often refer to the majority of the show as 'Rick's Director's Cut' because we get events skewed from his warped perception of his own actions. (You can even think of 'Morty's Mindblowers' as Rick literally editing footage into a better story.) Of course, we see why he's sympathetic. As the viewer, we understand why he's doing what he's doing, even if we don't agree with it. He views himself as the 'sitcom dad'-- comically fucked up and abusive, but secretly caring. Rick believes that he's got just enough heart for his actions to be excusable, forgetting that the people he hides his intentions from aren't getting the 'full picture' like the viewer is. From Morty's perspective, Rick does these things for no reason-- unless you count not liking, caring about, or valuing Morty. Of course, we know that's not the case, but Morty doesn't. His family doesn't.

The Prime arc is fascinating to me because of the contrast between how Rick viewed it versus how it happened from the perspective of the viewer. Rick went into the Prime arc thinking it would be a massive, badass epic where the underdog comes out on top and the audience is satisfied with the conclusion. As the audience, this is probably the first time we haven't really been able to click with that, you know? It was unsatisfying, even for Rick, and now he's sort of saddled with, 'Oh, shit. This is real life. What comes next?'

Sure, they're little guys on our television screens. To them, though... that's real life. Real life is messy. Real life is unsatisfying. Real life is disappointing, the editing is sloppy, arcs aren't linear, and dysfunction and substance abuse aren't silly character traits.

The whole point is: What happens now?

In real life, what happens after your abusive parent passes away or you finally get revenge on the person who tore your life apart? In real life, what happens after you beat the shit out of the guy who assaulted you? Or after your dad apologizes for walking out on you?

There's actually a Malcolm in the Middle scene reminiscent of this concept. Francis was blamed by Lois from the time he was born for ruining their relationship. Throughout the entire series, his arcs deal with their broken relationship. When she finally apologizes, the pinnacle of his hopes and dreams-- the only thing keeping him alive, it doesn't help. It doesn't fix the years of psychological abuse he suffered, or the fact that he's as broken as he is because of her failure as a parent.

Another great example is in Adventure Time, when Finn thinks he's ripped Martin's arm off for causing him to lose his own. The revenge doesn't help. (Sorry, not digging for a link to the scene lmao.)

Those things aren't satisfying on their own. The fantasies and daydreams we barter through aren't feasible cures. That's real life. What happens afterward is what you do next. That can be a tough pill to swallow. There's no quick 'fix-all' for everything that's fucked you up. What helps? Hard work. Dedication. Time. Therapy. Grief. Acceptance.

Rick never really worked through the grieving process, you know?

There was Denial and Anger:

And where he got stuck... Bargaining:

After Prime's death? Depression:

Four decades later, we're finally on the cusp of Acceptance.

That's what that look into the hole was. That's what putting up Morty's picture was. That's what choosing to walk away was.

Acceptance.

In conclusion of my long-winded rant, I liked the Prime arc. Fits nicely into the season after the finality of 'Fear No Mort.'

Well done, writers.

Thanks for asking! <3

[starrycassi]

Au where Ambrosius's and Ballister's friendship actually starts when, very stressed and about to cry, fourteen year old Ambrosius breaks into Bal's room because his hair looks horrible and they are supposed to be in a ball in two hours and he's too ashamed to go all the way down to the girls dorms looking like that (because I KNOW that boy regularly got invited to the girl's sleepovers when they were teens/younger I'm sorry Ambrosius is such an honorary guest. I would SO invite him over to do my nails) and Ballister is the only boy with long hair that was close enough for him to try and talk to.

He's about to rip his eyes off. His suit looks too weird on him (latest growth spurt fucked his proportions up), his hair isn't working, the makeup doesn't seem to be able to hide a very prominent bruise that training left him, he doesn't know what perfume to use and he's supposed to give a speech that he can't memorize.

Cut to Ballister, fifteen year old mess, still working on an essay they're supposed to turn in in like a week and with pure actual motor oil in his hair because he was tinkering with something a couple of minutes before but he remembered to do the essay and just washed his hands and got to it, eating crackers and not even sure of what he's going to wear.

He's hunched over in his chair, happily bouncing his head to some song and writing a draft of his assignment when his door is opened wide, and it's so incredibly funny to see Goldenloin with a full on face mask just standing there, looking ready to burst into tears.

It stops being funny when Ambrosius ACTUALLY bursts into tears because "what the fuck, Ballister. This is literally unacceptable. Go take a bath and get changed NOW and get me a hair curler I'm literally about to KILL MYSELF if I don't make my hair look good get your ass up and move please Delilah won't let me hear the end of it if I show up looking like this"

He ends up helping and they kinda go together to the ball because Ambrosius lends him one of his old suits (again, growth spurts) and Ballister tries to stay close in case Ambrosius has another attack

[eponastory]

I'm gonna hash out some arguments that don't work here.

Make it make sense.

The colonizer/colonized argument was the first thing that was brought up. If that were the case, then why is Aang willing to accept and be friends with Zuko even though Sozin wiped out the Air Nomads? Why is Sokka friends with Zuko when he experienced the loss of his mother just like Katara? Like... come on, people. Make it make sense.

Then we go into the whole attraction argument... because Zutara shippers apparently don't like that Aang is shorter than Katara.

Height has nothing to do with it (hey, I dated a guy who was shorter than me, we were pretty good together). This argument relies on Katara and Zuko being the most attractive characters in the show... nope. That's not why we ship them. It's literally their personality and disposition that we like. That and Zuko let's Katara be Katara. He doesn't see her as someone who is supposed to be forgiving and at peace. That isn't in her nature either and she doesn't have to make that choice if she doesn't want to. Aang wants her to be forgiving, but that is not his choice to make.

Then, there is the whole childhood trauma argument.

Yes, they both have trauma, but guess what, they both overcome that trauma.

I'll start with Zuko, who not only had a narcissistic sociopath for a father, but had to deal with emotional and physical abuse from said parent. Ozai literally told his own son that he was lucky to be born because he was not the prodigy like Azula. Ozai played favorites (which is something we see Aang do with his kids later on), and that damages a child more than anything. In Book 1, Zuko is trying to please his father and be the heir that Ozai wants him to be. He is frustrated and angry because of this. This is something Zuko overcomes later on in Book 3 when he actually confronts Ozai. It's a really good scene where Zuko addresses the abuse from his father. This is where Zuko starts to heal from that trauma. He let's it go and does the right thing, ultimately learning he was trying to fill a mold his father made for him.

On to Katara's trauma... loss. Loss of a parent. Something that she and Zuko share. However, Zuko does get his mother back in his life (along with another little sister, and I love his relationship with Kiyi). Katara does get closure and is able to accept that killing Yon Rha is not going to bring Kya back. However, she doesn't have to forgive him. It's possible that she believes the man is already suffering for his actions. It's not the best way to deal with it, but for her it is. Katara is very maternal, which is a great aspect of her character. The reason she is like this is because she lost her mother. Her innocence was ripped from her the day Kya died. Her childhood was cut short.

Does this make trauma a facet to a toxic relationship? No. It doesn't. Because they both dealt with their trauma the way they needed to before they could truly become friends. Katara also helped Zuko come to terms with his trauma as well.

So, would Zutara actually work?

Yeah, it would because they have mutual respect for each other. Once they get past the past, they really don't have a problem with communication, boundaries, or expect to hold up an image of each other. Those are the foundation of a good relationship. It's all there. Even if it's 'just friends'.

Kataang, on the other hand... oh boy.

[bonniesfamiliar]

Time Travel Fic: HOTD

After Lucerya falls into the ocean and drowns, she's taken in by the Stranger who shows her the past (Otto making Alicent visit the king and 'offer him comfort'), the present (her family's reaction to her death) and the future of House Targaryen (Daenerys Targaryen). The Stranger gives her a mission to fix her house so House Targaryen doesn't die out. Lucerya wakes up in DragonStone a few days AFTER taking out Aemond's eye and gets to work. She asks Daemon to train her with Rhaena and Baela so they aren't helpless. Lucerya asks her mother for more dragon riding tips and devours every book she finds relating to House Targaryen. She writes letters full of apologies to Aemond hoping to reconcile with him and get back on her good side because they used to be friends before the pig incident and taking his eye out. *cue wince. He doesn't reply obviously but Lucerya has dragon's blood in her veins and is stubborn so she writes to him daily.Years have passed and she's improved with her sword training so that she can disarm even Daemon Targaryen, her bond with Arrax has improved as well as her dragon riding and her letters to Aemond still haven't stopped. The day she goes back to King's landing for the trial and the dinner, she goes to her Grandfather Viserys's chambers to speak to him. Basically, the conversation: GRAMPS ME AND AEMOND TECHNICALLY GOT MARRIED THE DAY I TOOK HIS EYE OUT. Viserys who wants payback on Rhaeynra and Daemon and peace in his family: YES GRANDDAUGHTER LET'S GASLIGHT THEM ALL INTO THINKING YOU AND AEMOND GOT MARRIED THAT DAY. At the dinner, Viserys stands up and announces how happy he is that the young couple, Lucerya and Aemond are reunited after so long apart. Cue Horrified Looks from everyone in the room. Lucerya plays her part and stands, thanking her grandfather for the nice speech and talking about how wonderful it is to see her husband again. Aemond has had enough and basically demands what games Lucerya is playing. LUCERYA: GASLIGHT, GATEKEEP, GIRLBOSS. AEMOND: MANSPLAIN, MALEWIFE, MASNLAUGHTER. So Lucerya explains how the House of Targaryen marriages work. (SHE IS LYING OUT OF HER ASS RN BUT SHE'S APPLYING THE FIRE AND BLOOD TRADITION TO HER LIES SO IT SOUNDS REAL) Basically, the blood of the two getting married is spilt or cut or ripped out from each other- blood is taken. In this case, the blood he spilt from breaking her nose and the blood she spilt from taking out his eye. And the dragons of the two getting married breathe fire. In their case, Vhaghar and Arrax. But they were too young to consummate the marriage and tensions were HIGH at the moment so Viserys kept them apart and now they're back so they can get married properly YAYYYYYY

[hairmetal666]

EDIT: ao3 should be back so you can read this now 😭😭

Robin rips the cream-colored polo out of Steve's hands. "Hey!" his surprise makes him shriek.

"Absolutely not." She jams the hanger back on the rack. "We're in a boutique in Paris. You are not buying a polo shirt here."

Steve pouts. "But it's my size."

"No. I'm putting my foot down." She stomps to get her point across. "C'mon, they have sunglasses in the back."

He leaves the shirt behind, allowing Robin to lead him towards the table of over-sized, dark-framed sunglasses.

She gets lost in trying them on, vamping in the little mirror, leaving him to card through a rack of silk scarves, until a case of vintage wrist watches by the register catches his eyes. He studies the them—Omega, Rolex, Cartier, Patek Philippe—bands of finely tooled leather and steel, inlaid with gold, silver, diamonds; things Steve could never afford for himself in a million years.

He's so lost in contemplating the fine jewelry and the state of his life, everything that will change once he gets home, that it takes him a second to register the increasing noise coming from outside. At first, it's excited voices exclaiming in rapid French, but it quickly becomes near-hysterical screaming.

Steve’s first impulse is to locate the danger, block Robin from whatever might be coming. Before he can move, though, the most beautiful man on the planet skids through the door, long, dark curls flowing behind him like they’re caught in their own breeze.

"Kiss me," the man says. His voice is deep and breathy, and he has the biggest, brownest eyes Steve has ever seen. He loses himself in them—they’re so dark he can see his reflection in their depths—and it takes too long for the words to register.

"What?" Steve mumbles.

This gorgeous guy—long limbed and slender, a cropped cut-off t-shirt showing acres of pale skin punctuated by dark swirls of tattoos—can’t have actually asked to kiss him. This is a lust-based hallucination, it has to be, because this guy has a belly-button ring and wears pants so tight they have to be cutting off his circulation.

"Kiss me. Please?" the man asks again. The shouting from outside is louder now, people are crying, and Steve is sure that, this time, there's a definite note of desperation to his words.

This is a dream, for sure. There’s no way this breathtaking man is actually asking Steve for a kiss. Even so, Steve hears himself agreeing in a voice that doesn't sound anything like his own. The guy—the impossible, beautiful guy—smiles all gentle and soft, cupping the back of Steve's head in his large hand.

He's kissed a lot of people in his life. Like a lot. But nothing like this, not ever. Their mouths slot together, and he's expecting it to be chaste, and it is, but. Something electrical fizzes in his blood, goes straight to his brain, because his mouth is pressing harder and the man moans, grips Steve closer, pulls him until they crash against a clothes rack.

It's wanting and hot, but their tongues barley brush together before the embrace is broken. Steve wants; it infuses his blood stream, becomes a delicious ache in his lower abdomen.

"Thanks, sweetheart," the man whispers, pupils blown and eyes glassy. He brushes his thumb along Steve's cheek, then spins on his heel, disappearing out the door.

Steve can’t move, doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe, mouth still hanging open in bemused shock. What the fuck.

"STEVE," Robin screams.

He jumps, the noise stark in the quiet store and the now ringing silence outside, whatever commotion from earlier gone as though it had never been.

"Robin, what?" He snaps.

"Do you know who that was??"

His face flames crimson. "Uh. Just some guy?"

"Steeeve, dingus, you're hopeless."

"Who was it, then?"

"Oh, only Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson, Billboard number one for sixteen weeks? First album sold out at stores around the world? Didn't you wonder what all that screaming was about?"

"Oh my god,” Steve says. Hand going up to touch his kiss reddened lips. “Oh my god."

Read the rest on ao3!

[sweatytimetravelearthquake]

How to kill your husband

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Warning: there are scenes of domestic violence, murder scenes, blood. 18+

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It was a very sweet relationship at first, but Sanzu started picking on you and your surroundings. He started forbidding you to communicate with other guys. You violated the ban by going with your best friend from university when Haruchiye saw this. He roughly dragged you into the car, drove off a long time ago, picking up speed. When he brought you home, he beat you, not being shy in his expressions, showing his disgust. After several such cases, you decided to break up with him, but he only got even more angry. A strong slap in the face made you fall, and then he grabbed your silky hair, it seemed that he would pull it out.

"You'll find out how to want to break up with me, bitch!"

"But for what? .. You stopped loving me yourself! Let go!" — The neighbors don't care. Everyone knew the pink-haired man's connections, no one could dare to help you with this relationship. The guy got angry and hit the corner of the table, which could have ended in death, but he knew how to count the force. Your blood was running down your temple, and your whole body was buzzing. He pushes you, and then comes closer, putting his hands, which breathed tobacco on your neck. Haruchie squeezes them on your throat, the smell of alcohol comes from him, and you were sure that in addition to alcohol, he sniffed out two tracks.

"You have no right not to love me.. If you don't like it, I'll make you start."

"I hate you..."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" — Pushes you away, and then squeezes your hands, trying to twist them behind your back. Your resistance irritates Sanza, and he hits you with his hand in a rage: you fall to the floor and remain lying there, cowering in pain and horror. He's standing on top of you, looking at you with disdain. All you can do is keep quiet, feeling like you're about to lose consciousness. — "I'll go, don't fucking enter my office" — you clearly knew that another prostitute would come to him soon, he would cheat right in front of your eyes.

Sanzu has never loved you. Taking his loyalty to Manjiro, it was fashionable to conclude that he was very loyal only to someone he truly loved. And I only kept you around out of a sense of possessiveness. You feel sick. Your whole body hurts and your limbs are shaking. The moans of that dyed blonde are heard, all the hatred for both people is felt, but that girl is not to blame. But you didn't give a damn about her, you have the right to hate everyone, hate Sanza, hate all his whores, hate Sano, who founded this Bonten, hate the damn Haitani, Haruchiyo's friends. You get up on shaky legs and take a knife from the bedside table. It's time to end this all. The door to his office opens, you see how he pushes a girl you don't know into the table with sharp thrusts. He doesn't hear you coming at him, stops only when you stick a knife in his back. A man's blood drips onto the prostitute's stomach, causing her to scream. With sharp movements, you make the wound deeper, long and pulls out the blade. He can barely stand on his feet, turns around, and for the first time fear and pain are visible in his face. This is the first time you've seen them. It's like being on powerful drugs. You push him and stick the knife in again and again, piercing his stomach and chest. Hot scarlet liquid stains the table, you, the girl whose throat you cut, that scum screamed painfully. Sanzu is still living out his last seconds. Your hand slides right into the wound on his stomach, rips off his kidney and puts it in his mouth. There is a stench of various liquids, and the painting makes you want to vomit. Your boyfriend is already dead, lying on the floor, naked, laid out girl on the table.