#THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!

[erwinsvow]

uuuh love the kook!best friend idea??? the trio would be so overprotective of her??? at keggers she would just make small talk with some pogues and they'll be 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️like right next to her!

- 🔮

rafe is getting weirdly possessive over you, you think for a moment, standing near the keg and waiting patiently for your turn to get a drink. you don't think he's ever been so.... territorial. or maybe he has been, and you've just been ignoring it, thinking that he's been a really good, really close friend—looking out for you the way he does.

you can feel eyes burning holes into the back of your head, three sets of eyes in particular. your friends are funny—charmingly stupid, annoying arrogant, and a whole host of other things, but they've always been funny. it's why you guys get along so well, you return their jokes and comments at the same pace, more often than not even cracking jokes that make rafe break his stoic facade.

but he has been, you reflect, stepping up to whichever pogue is pouring the beer today—breaking his facade. you thought you were going a little crazy, thinking that he's actually being nicer to you, until kelce and top comment on it too. even today, he picked you up from your place first, letting you crawl into the front seat even though the other boys complain about being smushed in the back endlessly. he complimented your dress, even asked if it was new, which it was. he even got you your first drink without you asking for it, the strawberry seltzer that you're sure the pogues hosting didn't have lying around.

you feel surprisingly giddy about it—after all, you're still a girl, still their newer friend. like any other girl, you worry your new friends won't like you or that there's some ulterior motive going on. rafe's being a little weird, but he's always thinking about something that he doesn't talk about until days later. you think it'll pass like it always does.

"ah, ah," the blond pogue boy says—the cute one some of your girl friends buy weed from occasionally, when rafe can't deliver. "what's the magic word?"

you giggle at his antics, your worry about rafe floating away. you keep chatting with him, reaching in for the red cup twice, that he pulls up and over his head—impossible for you to grasp.

fifteen feet away, rafe watches jj tease you with the beer cup, jaw clenching while top and kelce see what he's staring at.

"see, boys. now that is not okay." he gestures to you with the cup in his own hand, watching your tiny dress ride up as you jump to get your beer from jj. "that pogue is disrespectin' our girl."

"rafe, i think it's just a joke-" top interjects, but he gets interrupted himself.

"nah, nah, man. these pogues. they think it's funny. i'll show him funny. c'mon." rafe stalks over, and the two boys follow. you don't notice but jj does, lowering the cup and staring at something—or someone—behind you.

"havin' fun, huh?" rafe questions, and you spin around. the jerk scared you—kelce and top surrounding you like bodyguards.

"guys, what are you-"

"i think she's all set, pogue. you can fuck off now."

"don't you have some store to rob?"

"guys, c'mon, it's a beer-"

"it's alright, princess, i see these three musketeers have an issue, so i'll just catch you around, hm?"

jj walks away, leaving the beer he poured for you on the log. you smile apologetically at him, fist clenching in anger at your stupid, stupid friends.

"you idiots. what the hell was that? i can't even talk to someone now-"

"what the hell's that mean, i'll catch you around?" rafe says, cutting you off. "you talkin' to that pogue?"

you pick up the beer and splash it over rafe's head.

"no, you asshole. it's a figure of speech and we live on the same island. jesus christ."

[unnamednarrator]

rockland always felt very second chance romance everlark to me

broke your every heartbeat

‘I’m glad you came,’ I say, taking a step towards her.

One corner of her mouth quirks up. ‘You only turn twenty-one once.’

surprise! gracie song everlark oneshot! now see, if you had excellent taste like me & anon you would get how culturally significant this was!

thanks for beta reading this on super short notice @thesunpersists 💗💗

read on ao3 now

[thevalkyriesshadow]

🦴 for Azriel

🦴 I think it’s broken...for Azriel

Oh anon, I put Az through the ringer in this

TW: for depictions of broken bones and small medical procedures

I'm practicing my whump so send me any tips or tricks so I can give you all the best gwynriel whump of your life 😈

Also this may or may not have turned into a two parter soo.....

💖 Enjoy! 💖

The cold, blustering winds batted the strands of hair that fell from Gwyn’s braid. The sounds and smells of battle assaulted her senses. The fae Courts fought the fae from Rask. 

The war they'd been preparing for was in full force. 

Every court was working day and night to rally their warriors. After the Raskan’s first attack on the Dawn Court where they destroyed the Palace on the eastern coast, forcing thousands of fae to evacuate and running either inland or into Day Court. 

A High Fae meeting was called immediately and a plan was hatched.

Each court was to have a unified force ready to defend the coast at a moment’s notice. The Valkyries and Illyrians were ordered to split up and send out six separate battalions that would aid the other courts in their war efforts. Day sent a legion of Pegasus scattered along the coast. Autumn Court infantry, known for their brutal hand to hand fire fighting, were sent in droves. Winter Court sent two giants and bear riders to each court’s front. Summer Court provided each coastal front a fleet of ships. Wild beasts hid and waited to pounce out in every woods along the eastern seaboard. 

The Illyrians and Valkyries had been training together for two years before the order, a short time for the span of their lives, but they moved together with the practice of a hundred years. They had to. Or else everything they loved, their homes, would be gone. The Illyrian’s quarrel with the Night Court was snuffed out with the joint efforts of the Valkyries that led to Azriel’s newfound leadership amongst them. They trained long and hard, combining their fighting techniques in unique ways. Making them a formidable front. The assault from the Eastern lands was brutal, quick, and unforgiving. Their ships loomed on the horizon. Never sailing in further or making a move. Just waiting. 

All along the coast this was reported. The day they moved, was the day everything kicked off. 

That was yesterday morning. They’d fought all day and into the night. Now, on the dawn of the second day, things seemed to finally be coming to an end. The fae of the courts appearing victorious. Gwyn wiped the sweat and dirt, and blood from her face and glanced around. Nesta and Emerie were back to back, facing a small group of eastern fae, easily handling them.

Gargoyles soared above. Their massive bodies, formed with rock from the eastern mountains, dwarfed the Illyrian warriors who fought them. Cassian was cutting through the stone beasts effortlessly, his sword and magic blazing left and right.

And Azriel….

Where was he? 

Gwyn didn't see the brilliant blue streaks flying through the air, didn't see the wisping tendrils of shadows thwarting enemies. 

Her heart raced. Her stomach turned.

There.

There he was. Popping in and out of the shadows of the low clouds that hung in the dark gray skies. A winter storm was rolling in, looming like a massive beast over the ornate, white stoned castle between the Winter and Autumn Courts where they fought - The very center of the battle.

With battle dissipating around them, Gwyn took a moment to breathe and watch Azriel, her mate, soar through the sky and fight every single foe effortlessly. Azriel may not realize they’re mates yet, but every fiber of her being knew it. She could feel his triumph through the bond as he knocked another gargoyle to the ground.

Gwyn looked away for one moment when she felt it, searing pain running through the bond and filling Gwyn with dread.

She spun back around searching the skies. Her heart leapt in her throat, her stomach dropping as she watched a gargoyle - who had Azriel in its stony hands - throw the Shadowsinger through the air. He slammed against the castle wall near them, pain shot through the bond again.

Then Azriel fell.

Gwyn waited for one heartbeat, but the Shadowsinger didn’t return.

She turned swiftly and ran over the ridge behind the battlegrounds where the Valkyrie’s pegasi were kept. Her mare stepped out from the equestrian group, as if sensing its rider was close. Her long, dark gray mane swayed in the breeze, her charcoal wings flapped behind her. The muscles rippled under the powerful body as the white and gray speckled mare ran towards Gwyn.

Fear. Pain. Helplessness.

She was feeling all of Azriel’s anguish, his emotions. It pulled at her like a tether, urging her to run faster to push harder. 

“Fly Mistie, Vilya!” 

Gwyn guided Mistie to the castle, towards the steep precipice Azriel fell into. The pegasus swooped down gracefully and with stunning speed, following Gwyn’s touch on the reigns with immaculate precision.

She pushed through the bond, feeling for any sign of him. 

A pulse.

A small twinge on the bond. She followed it, pulling Mistie down further to the snow covered logs and earth below. To the dark shadow that lay crumbled amongst the fallen branches from trees above. 

Gwyn’s heart pounded against her chest, in her ears. He wasn’t moving, his siphons a soft glow. She dismounted before Mistie had even fully touched the ground, and began to climb over the logs and branches to Azriel. To her mate.

“Azriel…AZRIEL!” Her panic began to rise, to crest as the Shadowsinger made no movement. She’d know. She’d know if he was dead. She’d feel it.

Another faint pulse through the bond. “I’m here, Azriel - I’m here!” She tried to control the fear that rippled through her - her fear, and Azriel’s…

She jumped over a large tree trunk, landing gracefully on her feet and stilled. 

Azriel lay face down, his wings and limbs all at odd angles. Gwyn stumbled forward onto her knees, next to Azriel, placing delicate hands on him.

“Azriel,” She breathed. Azriel sobbed, relief washing over her through the bond, an all encompassing feeling that wrapped around her and she felt her fear begin to eddy away. 

“I’ve got you, shadowsinger - I’ve got you.” Tears slid down Gwyn’s cheeks as she assessed the situation. If she could roll him out from between the two small tree trunks he landed on, she could get him flat on his back -

Gwyn reached for Azriel’s right arm and hip, but as she applied pressure to pull, he screamed, his hands clenched into fists.

“Sorry -” her voice wavered as the pain washed over her as well.

“I think it’s broken…” Azriel gritted out.

“What is?”

He breathed heavily and grunted as he tried moving his right wing, “Everything…everything on my right side.” He winced.

She looked closer at his extremities. His elbow was bent at an odd angle and although she couldn't see any broken bones, his leathers were torn along his upper thigh, a deep cut underneath. Then there was his wing. It was crushed, crumbled against him. The beautiful curve and slope of it mangled. His other wing hung limply over the trunks and logs. 

“Okay - I’m going to need to splint your wing before pulling you off the logs. It’s going to hurt for a moment, but then I’ll be able to heal you after we set and tend to your injuries.”

Azriel took a few deep breaths, his brows furrowing. His amber eyes were swimming with anguish until he looked up at Gwyn and nodded. Only assuredness gleaming back at her. 

“Do it,” he ground out.

Gwyn didn’t hesitate. She tore her cape off and ripped a few thin strips, using them to hold his broken wing steady. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the branches beneath him and groaned through his clenched jaw as she moved his wing, setting it into a stable position and wrapping it firmly. 

This time, when she went to turn him over, she placed a flat palm on his chest, the other his middle, Gwyn heaved Azriel off the debris that littered the ravine floor. He let out an agonizing cry that echoed all around them. With Azriel tightly in her arms, his back to her chest, she walked slowly backwards, pulling the shadowsinger with her. His sobs and groans of pain shot straight through her, chilling her veins and seizing her heart. 

She pressed the side of her face to his, “I’ve got you. Just a few more steps.” His scarred hands clutched at hers, wrapping around her wrists. Steadying himself. 

They were both panting as Gwyn set him down. She rushed over to Mistie and tugged her healer’s kit from the saddle, her bedroll, and waterskin.

She placed the bedroll beneath Azriel’s head and tore more cloth from her cape for his arm. She silently thanked the gods for all the available wood to use. Finding two sturdy sticks Gwyn gingerly handled his elbow, placing the sticks on either side of his swollen and crooked arm. 

Azriel watched her with intensity, marking every move she made. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, wincing as she slid the fabric of her cloak beneath his arm. 

“Yes. Well, comparatively - I got hit a few times, but I’m okay,” she replied, tying off the makeshift sling around his shoulder. She shuffled back to tend to his leg. The wound wasn’t gushing blood, thank the gods. It had just missed the major arteries, and her healing may negate the need for stitches.

Grabbing the fabric, she ripped open the leg of his pants and gasped. Realizing now that the deep gash was in fact due to his upper femur breaking. Gwyn could just make out the white of jagged bone protruding from beneath layers of muscle and skin.

“That bad?” he asked.

“Well, you were right. Everything is broken and you’ll need stitches.” She grabbed the healer’s kit, pulled out the gauze, and pressed it against the wound. Azriel cried out, his back arching at the pain. 

He let out a breathy chuckle, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were enjoying my pain, Berdara.”

She smiled, grateful he still had his humor, “Only now that I know you’re alive,” she teased. She uncorked her waterskin and poured the water over his wound, washing out the dirt and debris that gathered in the sinews of muscle that showed. Azriel hissed in. His fists clenching at his sides. 

Working quickly, she pushed his legs together and wrapped the remaining fabric of her cloak around his legs, binding them.

“How are you going to get us out?” Azriel asked as Gwyn kneeled next to him, placing a hand on his chest, the other just under his ribcage.

“We’ll figure that out after I heal you. I’m pretty spent so It won’t be much, but it’ll at least help you feel a little better.”

Azriel lifted his good hand then, placing it on top of the one she had laying on his abdomen. Her gaze drifted up to his and he smiled, “Thank you, Gwyn - for a moment,” his words wavered and cut short. He cleared his throat and held her hand tighter, “For a moment I thought nobody saw me fall and I’d be - I’d still be sprawled on a stack of sticks bleeding out, alone…” Tears swam in his eyes.

Gwyn reached up, cupping his face in her hand. He sighed into the touch, his tears pooling under her fingers. She leaned forward, resting her forehead to his, “I’ll always come for you, Azriel.”

She went to pull away, but his hand came up to hold the back of her head, pulling her back down to him. She met him with no resistance, their lips crashing into each other’s. 

It was soft and sweet, that first touch of their lips. Until it wasn’t and it was all consuming and greedy, passionate, like it was their first and last kiss ever. His fingers curled in her hair, her hand, now free, slid up his torso and came to rest on his chest as their kiss deepened. 

The bond pulsed and expanded, growing bright between them, tugging relentlessly at their souls.

Gwyn pulled back, their mouths a hairsbreadth apart. Their breaths mingled together in the cold air and she could’ve sworn she heard music between them.

Azriel’s cheeks were flushed, tears and adoration welling fresh in his eyes as he gasped out, “Mate.”

To be continue…

Surprise! The mate thing just kind of happened and then I decided this needed to be a two-parter…👉👈 hope that’s okay anon 👉👈 …the next part will be full of caretaker!Gwyn! 😉  ​tehe

[arvandus]

Helloooo~

This goes without saying but congrats on your followers and you deserve every single one and more 🖤

For your follower event may I request Alkaline By Sleep Token with either Inumaki (jjk) or Dabi (mha) whichever one you’re feeling- dealers choice!! Tysm and as always- thank you for writing amazing things!

Inumaki didn’t know what to do with you. You were a wrinkle in his organized life, an anomaly that caused his mind to glitch whenever you were near.  You were a distraction, a problem, and yet he couldn’t deny that a deep, secret part of him enjoyed it. There was something about you that brought color into his world of sorcery and curses, that eased the crease that rested between his furrowed brow and lightened the weight of his shoulders.

You liked him; he knew it in how you acted around him, the way your gaze always caught his with your affection for him framed in the laugh lines around your eyes.  It was evident in the way your hand lingered on his arm when you touched him, in the closeness of your body when you stood next to each other.

It both terrified and excited him.  It made his mind fog over, made his eyes stare too long at the shape of your lips, and his flesh to goosepimple at the feel of your fingers against his skin.  It was a guilty pleasure, and torturous.  So very, very torturous.

Because he could never bring himself to give in, to reciprocate your affections. Not with the cursed speech tattooed across his tongue, a cage of lines and circles that kept him isolated, separate from others.  It forced the burning words of love and wanting to sit behind his teeth, souring his palette until he thought he would choke on them.

Inumaki would have to learn to be content with what he had (or in this case, didn’t have).  You were with him now, as a friend, and it was enough.  It had to be enough.  That was what he told himself, at least.

Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t a sentiment you shared.

It was a star-filled, cloudless night as you two sat upon the rooftop.  Inumaki often came up here by himself to enjoy some alone time, and to relax from the constant pressure of having to be cautious with his speech.

Except this night, you had found him.

“Can I join you?” you asked.

He didn’t have the heart to say no, despite his logical brain warning him of the dangers, so he nodded.

You sat yourself by his side and looked up at the stars.  You didn’t engage in conversation; you didn’t ramble about your day, talk his ear off, or force him to answer questions he couldn’t answer.  Instead, you were quiet company, and Inumaki felt himself shift from alert to relaxed within a matter of minutes.

After a long while, you finally spoke, your voice quiet so as to not disturb the night.

“I see why you like to come up here...” you commented as you stared at the sky.

“Salmon,” he affirmed.

“Thank you for letting me be here.”

He stared at you for a long moment, the tips his fingers humming with the desire to follow the curve of your jaw, to memorize the angle to memory.  Instead, he returned to gazing up at the night sky as he fought the flush that threatened to creep across his cheeks and paint his ears in the moonlight.

After some time, he began to stand in preparation for leaving, allowing his body language to speak for him. Let’s go in.

But instead of following him, your hand reached out to his, your fingers interlocking.  “Please... can we stay just a little longer?” your voice was soft, your eyes slightly downcast.

Inumaki returned to his seat next to you, his eyes watching you carefully.

You sighed as you fiddled with your fingers.  “I guess... I wasn’t entirely honest about my reason for joining you... but there’s something I wanted to talk about.”

Inumaki’s heart skipped two beats before quickening to a battle drum pace beneath his rib cage.  No... surely you weren’t going to...

“Toge, I—”

“Stop.”

Your words stuck in your throat and you stared at him in shock, your eyes brimming with hurt tears. He’d used his cursed speech on you.  You, his best friend, stripping you of your agency.

Inumaki instantly cursed himself.  “Caviar...” Shit.

He hadn’t intended to use the ACTUAL word.  But he panicked, and it escaped out of his mouth before he could catch himself.

This was all wrong.  It was all going wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all.

You stood up to leave, but his hand shot out to catch your wrist.  You turned to look at him, and he could only hope that the apology in his eyes was loud enough for you to understand.

I’m sorry.  Stay.

Through some blessing, you understood and sat back down; but Inumaki’s cursed speech was still in effect.  He needed to release you.

“Speak.”

“I love you.” The words blurted out of your mouth before you could shape and mold them to your liking, yanked forth by the power of his cursed speech.

You stared at each other dumfounded – none of this was going how either of you had hoped.

This was why Inumaki never spoke.  There was too much room for error, and the consequences could be far worse than a love confession.

Your eyes began to water as you looked down in shame.  “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this...” you whispered. “I didn’t mean... I didn’t want to...”

Guilt twisted every nerve in Inumaki’s body, and all he wanted was to figure out how to fix this, how to make it right.  He kept your hand in his and placed it on his chest as his other hand tilted your chin up to look at him.

“Tuna.”  Look.

You did, your eyes meeting his.

“Tuna mayo.”

Your face scrunched up in puzzlement.  To communicate his point, he let his thumb lightly ghost over your lips, his gaze soft. Your mouth parted slightly as you gasped.

“... Really?” you asked.

Inumaki nodded.  A slow smile spread across his lips, and he tapped his own lips with his index finger.

“Whaaa?” you flushed.  “Here?  Now?”

“Salmon.”

Your heart was dancing somewhere between your chest and your throat.  You leaned in towards him and he waited patiently.  But you hesitated halfway, your lips inches from his, as you began to second guess yourself.  Were you sure that’s what he meant?  What if you translated it wrong? What if he meant something else-?

Your thoughts were cut short when Inumaki closed the remaining distance between you, his lips capturing yours.  You leaned into it, allowing the soft feel of his mouth to chase away your doubts, like the sun chasing a morning fog, leaving nothing but warmth in its wake.  After a moment, he pulled away slowly, his nose inches from yours as he looked into your eyes, his thumb on your chin.

“Tuna mayo.” He repeated.

“Tuna mayo.” You replied back.

[literateowl]

hey there, i’m trying to spread some positivity after yesterday’s news, here’s a nice ask for you

what kind of tea do you think is each character’s go to?

Hellooo thank you so much for this delightful question 🩷���🩷💜

Starting with Marjan because our home girl is probably the QUEEN of tea, like she is of many other things. She likes all of it and definitely has at least a mint plant for cooking and tea brewing, if not more of a little tea/herb garden going on. She has her own Moroccan Mint recipe that she tweaked and experimented with. I also just came up with the hc that she's the reason TK and Carlos have that large box of tea selection when they're setting up to talk to officiants. She gave it to them as a housewarming/glad you're not broken up anymore gift. Also she got almost everyone to expand their tea horizons too.

We know TK and Owen like to drink green tea. And I can totally see Owen with a whole fancy matcha set up that he uses at home on his days off.

TK's favorite is jasmine green or white tea with honey and lemon or Marjan's Moroccan Mint tea (<-that's very cute alliteration I just did)

Carlos also likes a variety but I imagine his favorite is something spiced with cream or milk like Chai or Thai tea

Mateo is obsessed with Marjan's mint tea recipe but he likes it iced and Marjan lets him do it even though she thinks it's weird because he's her little brother now.

Nancy likes a chamomile or Earl Grey blend with vanilla. She adds only a little bit of honey.

Paul's favorite is either ginger tea or sweet tea. Depending on the vibe.

Tommy drinks a hot toddy after a stressful day or when she feels like she's starting to get sick. (Link to a recipe if you don't know what that is)

Grace canonically loves English breakfast (or she did when she was pregnant at least) but she bothered Judd until he got her a peppermint plant too on Marjan's suggestion.

Judd only likes Texas sweet tea. He thinks all hot tea just tastes like grass even though he is polite and will try it again if offered to him.

[figthefruitfaeth]

zoey yknow i GOTSTA ask for some words for caller, you're on air!!! mwah!!

KK!!! and i gladly give it to thee <3 MWAH! an extra long section cause i couldn't bear breaking it up

Caller, You're On Air (chapter one)

The one cardinal rule of music radio is to never let it go dead. That means a song, an ad, a jingle, god even an on-air hold up before silence. To Eddie, who talks even in his sleep, that’s a job he can handle. But, of course, on principle, he does like to push the boundaries.  Eddie kicks at the counter, sending his chair into a tailspin as he introduces the next section of the night. The mics here are pretty good for community radio, but he knows there’s a chance he’s still cutting in and out with every rotation, and an even greater chance that Dug (not Doug, Dug), the station’s night manager, will give him shit for it.  But, in both the good and bad of running an alternative pop-rock emo adjacent community college radio station between the hours of 1am and we-live-in-a-simulation-c’clock, is that nobody fucking cares. Dug—asleep. The approximate three to five people actually listening—so wound up in their own shit that even a perfectly enunciated Eddie comes out as nothing more than static before the show.  So, Eddie spins his chair. Just long enough not to throw up.

[giggly-squiggily]

Hello!! I saw that the candy heart event is back so I just gotta make a request to my favorite writer🤗 Do you mind if you could do 💚Cutie & 💙Smile with Reo and Nagi from blue lock?

Aww! Thank you so much anon! I appreciate it! And jlaerjkajklrjaerj Heck yes!!! I really like these two! I've gotcha covered! :D

Cutie: "I'm gonna get you!" + Smile: "I didn't know you were ticklish here!"

“Reo.”

Silence.

“Reo, stop ignoring me.”

More silence. The purple haired soccer player turned his chin up when Nagi tried to peek at him.

“Reo.” Nagi poked his back. Then he poked his shoulder. Then he poked his hip.

“Ah!” Reo yelped, slapping at the hand with a glare. Nagi blinked.

“No way…” He poked again. Then again. Each jab earned him a smack and a glare. “I didn’t know you were ticklish here. Hell, I didn’t know you were ticklish at all.”

“Nagi, stop it!” Reo fumed, turning to catch the pale haired boy’s hands. “I wanna be mad!”

“I don’t want you to be mad.” Nagi responded, easily breaking out of Reo’s grip before pushing him on his back. “I’m gonna get you to stop being mad!”

“No! No, Nagihihihiihiihi!” Reo yelped, his scowl starting to turn into a smile as he pushed at the hands massaging his hips. “Gehehhhet ohohohohoff! I’m ihihihihihgnoohohohring youhuohohohu!”

“Nope. I don’t wanna be ignored anymore.” Nagi climbed up on him, sitting on Reo’s thighs as he clawed at Reo’s belly. “Besides, you’re done ignoring me anyway.”

“Nohohohohoho I’m nohohoohohoohot!”

“Sure you are. If you were really still ignoring me, you’d have left the room when I came in. Instead you huffed. Repeatedly.” Nagi smiled, enjoying the squeaks and squeals he got out of his boyfriend. “I take it you're mad I was face timing Isagi?”

“Shuuhuhuhuhut uhuhuuhhp! Dohoohohohon’t brihihihihng him uhuuhhuup!” Reo whined through his laughter, kicking his feet against the couch cushions.

“Bingo.” Nagi nodded. “If it counts, I was only helping him plan a present for his boyfriend. No need to be jealous.”

“I’m noohoohoohot jehehahahhhahalohohoohohus!” Reo lied through his titter fits.

“Sure you aren't.” Nagi mused, shoving a hand up Reo’s armpit. “Ready to stop ignoring me?”

“FIHIIHIHNE!”

“Wanna watch a movie with me?”

“OHOHOOHKAY!”

“....Can we order pizza?”

“YEHEHHEHS ANYTHING YOU WAHHAHANT NOW STAHHAHAP!”

“Heh, yay.” Nagi smiled softly as he pulled his hands back, giving Reo a much needed break. “Glad to have you back, Reo.” He went to get up, but a hand grabbed the front of his hoodie, pulling him down. “Whoa!”

“Eheh…hehe…sthahay awhile.” Reo huffed, wrapping his arms around Nagi’s body, hugging him close. “I mihihissed you.”

“You’re the one who wouldn’t talk to me.” Nagi rolled his eyes, burying his face into Reo’s shirt with a gentle sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~Send me a pairing and a candy heart phrase~

[carmenlire]

First Comes Love

read on ao3

Nearing the entrance to the park, Sangwoo looks over at his boyfriend.

Jaeyoung has that look in his eye, the one that says he’s committing the scene in front of him to memory to draw out later. That’s something that took Sangwoo by surprise in the beginning, the way Jaeyoung can find beauty even in the small things, the mundane.

For early December, the weather is balmy. There’s not a cloud in the sky and the two of them had ventured out of their apartment a little while ago keen to take advantage of one of the last nice days Seoul will offer until spring arrives.

It’s mid-morning now and they’d just stopped by their favorite coffeeshop to grab a drink before they’d headed over to one of the larger parks across town.

Bringing his own white chocolate mocha up to take a sip, Sangwoo leans into Jaeyoung as they start meandering down one of the paths that crisscross over the grass.

Jaeyoung pulls him closer still as he looks down at him. “Cold, Jagiya?”

Shaking his head, Sangwoo looks up to see Jaeyoung smiling at him. “Just want to be close,” is all he offers and is treated to the sight of Jaeyoung’s smile brightening even further.

One of Sangwoo’s favorite things has become Jaeyoung’s smile– whether it’s an infuriating smirk or the small smile that curves his mouth whenever Sangwoo does something that makes him particularly fond, seeing his boyfriend happy never fails to make Sangwoo’s heart warm.

He looks back down to the path in front of them, hears Jaeyoung huff out a, “Well, then,” and Sangwoo would bet a million dollars that his boyfriend is doing that thing he does– smiling so big it crinkles the corner of his eyes as he bites down on his lip in an attempt to tame it.

Sangwoo feels a kiss dropped to the top of his head and his lips turn up into a smile of their own.

The conversation between them ebbs and flows as they take their time exploring the park. Sangwoo appreciates that he can enjoy involved discussions with Jaeyoung or companionable silence. For long moments, the only sounds come from the laughter of children at the playground in the distance, the excited shouts as a group of guys play football in an open stretch of lawn.

“What movie do you want to see tonight, baby?”

As Jaeyoung asks, the ice in his cup rattles as he guides them down a side trail that will pass the playground where a dozen or so kids seem to be having the time of their lives, if the sheer noise is any indication.

“We could see that historical drama? I showed you the trailer last week,” Sangwoo offers. “I know you like the actress playing the lead.”

Jaeyoung hums in thought. “I liked that it looked like it actually had a plot. I can check the times and see if there’s something for after dinner?”

Sangwoo opens his mouth to respond but before he can say anything, he catches sight of a child walking over to the two of them, tears running down his face.

Handing Jaeyoung his mostly empty coffee cup, Sangwoo quickly steps out from under his arm and drops down to one knee. The kid– who doesn’t look older than four years old– roughly tries to wipe the tears from his face as he looks up at Sangwoo.

“Hyung,” he says, voice quivering. “Can you help me?”

Sangwoo smiles softly at the little boy, resting his arm on his thigh as he leans a little closer. “Of course,” he nods decisively. “What do you need help with?”

The little boy’s bottom lip trembles and he sucks in a harsh breath. His eyes fill with fresh tears. “I can’t find my eomma,” and his voice breaks on a sob.

Feeling his own heart break a little at the child’s despair, Sangwoo takes a moment to scan the playground over the boy’s head, looking for a frantic parent or someone who might be looking for a wandering child. Unfortunately, no one stands out.

Keeping the small smile on his face and hoping it comes across as reassuring, Sangwoo reaches out a gentle hand and uses the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe the tears from the boy’s face. “I know it must be very scary to not know where your eomma is,” he says quietly, “But we’ll find her soon and then you’ll be back to going down the slide in no time.”

The boy’s tears have slowed as he reacts to the steadiness in Sangwoo’s voice. Jaeyoung, for his part, just watches on in a mix of surprise and pride as his boyfriend seems to have the situation very much in hand.

Sangwoo’s voice is comforting on a good day, low and warm. Its effects seem to be working on the child as Sangwoo asks, “What’s your name? I’d like to know who I’m helping with such an important task.”

The boy sniffles a little. “Seojun. My eomma calls me Jun-ah.”

Nodding gravely to show he understands, Sangwoo replies, “Thank you, Jun-ah. My name is Sangwoo but you can use hyung.”

Sangwoo stands up, scanning the park. “What is your eomma wearing today?”

Jaeyoung hangs back, content enough to let Sangwoo take the reigns as he studies the adults he can see around the playground. He turns back to Seojun and Sangwoo just in time to see the boy reach up and quietly take Sangwoo’s hand.

Oh, and there’s Jaeyoung’s heart in a puddle right in the middle of the walking trail.

Sangwoo doesn’t flinch or startle at the sudden hand in his own. No, instead Jaeyoung watches as his boyfriend holds Seojun’s hand securely as he starts walking slowly around the playground.

“She was wearing a purple dress. It had flowers on it.” Seojun’s voice is steadier now and he walks with Sangwoo, seems happy enough to follow wherever Sangwoo wants to take him.

Jaeyoung is mildly concerned and wonders if he should tell Seojun’s mom that a reminder on stranger danger might be needed.

Sangwoo’s gaze switches to the boy for a moment. “That’s very helpful, thank you. Do you like flowers?”

The question kicks off Seojun’s chatter and both Sangwoo and Jaeyoung let the boy talk about his favorite flowers and the ones he doesn’t like and the ones that make him sneeze and the prettiest ones and the scariest ones– “did you know there are plants that eat bugs, hyung?”-- while they search for his missing parent.

To the last question, Sangwoo looks down at Seojun and Jaeyoung bites his lip to keep a laugh back at the twin looks of disgust on their faces. “Are you talking about Venus Fly Traps?”

Seojun’s eyes widen. “You mean there’s more than one?”

That leads to Sangwoo spending the next few minutes talking about all the carnivorous plants he knows and he helps Seojun count up to six when the boy stumbles over understanding how many they’ve mentioned.

The three of them aren’t having much luck finding Seokjun’s eomma but Sangwoo keeps the little boy distracted as they look and thankfully, there are no more signs of tears.

It’s been ten minutes or so since Seojun first came over to them when the child pulls on Sangwoo’s hand to get his attention.

Sangwoo immediately looks down at him. “Seojun-ah?”

When Seojun just pulls his hand again, Sangwoo gets the hint and leans down.

Jaeyoung watches as Seojun looks back at him uncertainly. He tries his best to put on his most calming, friendly smile.

“Who’s the ahjussi that’s been following us?” Seojun’s tone makes it clear that he’s trying to be inconspicuous no matter that he’s talking in a voice loud enough for Jaeyoung to hear without straining. Jaeyoung would be endeared if he wasn’t affronted at being called an ahjussi.

For God’s sake, he’s only a year older than Sangwoo so why does his boyfriend get hyung while he gets–

Sangwoo doesn’t smile but his eyes have that gleam that means he’s amused and trying to hide it.

“His name is Jang Jaeyoung and he’s my boyfriend,” Sangwoo calmly replies.

Seojun looks back at Jaeyoung. Jaeyoung offers a little wave. Seojun frowns and looks back up at Sangwoo.

“Your boyfriend is too tall, hyung.”

Jaeyoung scowls. Aish, this kid–

His scowl deepens when his boyfriend looks back at him, studies him for a moment, then nods solemnly over at Seojun.

“You’re right,” Sangwoo replies, pensive. “He really is too tall, isn’t he? What is he trying to be, a giraffe?”

That earns a peal of laughter from Seojun who can’t help but repeat, “giraffe ahjussi,” a few times, chortling anew each time he says it.

Jaeyoung bites back a smile at hearing the kids laughter, instead focusing on Sangwoo and glaring.

Sangwoo just shrugs and mouths, “giraffe hyung,” at him, shocking Jaeyoung as he sticks his tongue out at him. Sangwoo’s smile widens at his boyfriend’s affront.

The three of them are still smiling as they start toward the picnic area immediately adjacent to the playground. Sangwoo is starting to genuinely worry about where this kid’s mom is whenever he hears someone call out behind them.

Turning around, a woman in a purple dress is rushing towards them– or more accurately, towards Seojun.

“Seojun-ah,” she cries, immediately falling to her knees and wrapping Seojun in a firm hug. “I told you not to wander off! Where were you?”

Seojun’s voice is muffled as he answers, “I lost you so I went to find a hyung to help me.”

At that, Seojun’s eomma looks up and smiles gratefully at Sangwoo and Jaeyoung. She stands up and bows deeply to both of them, still holding her son’s hand ight in her own. “Thank you so much,” she starts. “My work called and I swear I turned away for just a moment to hear over the kids and when I turned back around Seojun was gone. Thank you for helping him and staying with him.”

Sangwoo nods in her direction. “It was no trouble. Seojun is an excellent conversationalist and had a lot of interesting things to say about flora.”

The mom nods distractedly and Sangwoo goes to say goodbye to Seojun but the little boy has his face turned into his mom’s dress, still hugging her. Reaching for Jaeyoung’s hand, Sangwoo starts leading them back down the walking path.

Jaeyoung follows where he leads but it’s not more than a minute later that they hear the sounds of running feet coming towards them.

Sangwoo turns just in time for Seojun to barrel into his legs, holding tight. It takes a moment but eventually the boy eases his grip enough for Sangwoo to crouch down until they’re eye level.

It’s quiet for a moment, Sangwoo’s expression serious, and Jaeyoung watches as slowly a smile softens his boyfriend’s features. Sangwoo reaches out, straightening the boys jacket.

“Seojun-ah,” Sangwoo starts, and Seojun perks up to watch Sangwoo intently. “Be more careful from now on, okay? I know it’s a lot of fun to play with other children but try your best to also be mindful of where your eomma is. Can you do that?”

Seojun nods slowly, looking both chastised and like he’s taking Sangwoo’s words to heart. Suddenly, Seojun leans forward, wrapping his arms tight around Sangwoo’s neck and hugging him with all his four year old might. “Thank you, hyung,” he whispers to Sangwoo.

Sangwoo hugs him back. “You’re welcome, Seojun. I’m happy we found her. Remember what I said, okay?”

Seojun nods against his shoulder. Sangwoo lets the hug continue for a moment longer and then pulls back and gestures towards Seojun’s eomma, who’s been watching the exchange from a little ways away.

“Your eomma’s waiting for you,” Sangwoo says and Seojun starts running back to her.

On his way, he calls back, “Bye Sangwoo-hyung, bye giraffe-ahjussi!”

Standing up to his full height, Sangwoo's immediately pulled into Jaeyoung's space. Wrapping his arms around Sangwoo, Jaeyoung can feel his boyfriend’s laughter. “You’re so mean to me,” Jaeyoung pouts. “A kid thinks I’m an old man and too tall and all you’re doing is laughing at me. The nerve,” Jaeyoung mutters, kissing the top of Sangwoo’s head.

Sangwoo raises his head so he can see Jaeyoung’s face. “It’s okay,” he says, face serious. “I love you no matter what, giraffe-hyung.”

Jaeyoung tries to glare, though it doesn’t last long in the face of the amusement he can see radiating clear as day from his boyfriend.

They start walking again, Jaeyoung’s arm over Sangwoo’s shoulders, Sangwoo huddled close.

Jaeyoung plays back the past half hour. Most of him is surprised. He didn’t know that Sangwoo was so good with kids but he can’t deny it– Sangwoo was able to calm Seojun down and keep him distracted. Seojun responded to him wonderfully, too, and definitely hung on his every word.

Jaeyoung’s heart has grown at least three sizes this morning. They’ve never talked about kids and a part of Jaeyoung didn’t think it was in the cards for them, no matter that he himself enjoys them and had hoped to have some one day before he met Sangwoo. He thought children would be too messy for Sangwoo, too chaotic and unpredictable for his routine-loving boyfriend.

Now, he’s rethinking it all.

Looking down at the man who’s always so full of surprises, Jaeyoung sees Sangwoo is still smiling as he studies the trees at the edge of the park.

He’s always beautiful but something about today, right now– Sangwoo takes his breath away. The quiet contentment in his eyes, the way the sun warms his cheeks, the curve of his mouth all add together to pull Jaeyoung in even deeper.

Voice quiet in the winter air, Jaeyoung opens the conversation tripping at the tip of his tongue. “I didn’t know you liked kids?”

Sangwoo doesn’t look away from where he’s watching a pair of birds flying in the distance. “I’ve always liked children,” he replies matter-of-factly. “Their intentions are pure and they’re almost too honest. There’s less guesswork than with adults. Plus, you can have conversations with them that you can’t have with grown-ups.”

“Carnivorous plants,” Jaeyoung laughs.

“Yeah,” Sangwoo responds, laughing a little, too. “I think it’s fun to listen to a kid talk about what they’re interested in. I wish I would’ve had a grown-up listen to me like that. So, even if I don’t know a lot about it or if I’m not really interested– I like making them feel like I am, you know? Kids need someone to listen, whether it’s serious or whether they just want to talk about all their favorite superheroes.”

Jaeyoung looks down at Sangwoo and something shifts in his chest at the earnest words, at the truth lurking in the spaces between them. “You’re something else, Chu Sangwoo.”

The tips of Sangwoo’s ears turn red as he refuses to look at Jaeyoung. “It’s just the bare minimum, hyung. It’s nothing.”

Jaeyoung shakes his head a little but lets it lie for now. Instead, he debates on whether they’re ready for the question that’s really burning on his tongue– if it’s not too soon, too much.

He can’t see a better opening coming, though, and he’s dying for an answer, to finally know with certainty what they’re future might look like.

“Do you,” Jaeyoung starts, voice quiet with a tentative edge. “Do you want kids?”

Sangwoo is silent for a long moment and Jaeyoung holds his breath as they start wandering down a gravel trail with wildflowers growing alongside. Turning his head, Jaeyoung focuses on a rabbit nibbling on a flower a few meters away.

Whatever Sangwoo’s answer, he knows nothing will change between them. He’s spent the past couple of years assuming that his boyfriend wasn’t the kid type and he’d accepted it. He wants Sangwoo in whatever way he can have him and in the face of that, children will never be a dealbreaker.

Still.

Now that he’s seen Sangwoo with kids, that door he’d thought closed and locked has creaked open and he can see with startlingly clarity how their life could look with a bigger family. It’s almost overwhelming in its potential.

Finally, Sangwoo looks up at Jaeyoung, eyes serious. “I do,” he says, voice steady. “I know we’re too young now and aren’t in the place for kids but I would like them someday. With you,” Sangwoo adds, voice warm and sure. “If you wanted, that is. I respect your choice, hyung.”

Jaeyoung stops them, moves until he’s standing in front of Sangwoo. “Baby,” he says, voice full with awe and love and maybe a small bit of relief. “One day,” He promises. Leaning down, Jaeyoung lays the gentlest kiss on Sangwoo’s forehead, trails a path down his nose, along his cheeks, across his jaw.

He stops when he gets to Sangwoo’s mouth just to hear his boyfriend’s breath catch. “I love you,” he whispers in the space between them.

Sangwoo surprises him by closing the last bit of distance. It’s a slow kiss, heavy with intent. When he pulls away a few minutes later, Sangwoo watches him with warm eyes that glow with happiness. “I love you too, hyung.”

The rest of their walk is filled with conversation that flits from topic to topic. They decide to see that movie after all and plan their grocery list and bicker over who was supposed to take the trash out today.

Neither of them can stop smiling for a minute.

---

That night, when Sangwoo goes to get a garbage bag for the kitchen trash can, he sighs in annoyance as he sees Jaeyoung placed the box on a shelf that’s just out of his reach.

“Hyung,” he calls out. “Can you come in here and help me?”

A few moments later, Jaeyoung appears, hair damp from his shower, as he leans against the doorway. Sangwoo knows as soon as he sees the expression on his boyfriend’s face that he’s going to say something ridiculous.

“Why,” Jaeyoung starts, voice full of shock. “Am I not too tall, after all? In fact, it looks like I’m the perfect height to reach what you need and you’re just too short–”

Sangwoo’s long suffering sigh cuts him off. Jaeyoung grins, unrepentant.

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Sangwoo mutters as he reaches for one of their dining room chairs to bring over to their cabinets.

He doesn’t get a chance to before Jaeyoung’s brushing past him to get the bags. When Sangwoo reaches over to take them, though, Jaeyoung just holds the box over his head. Jaeyoung raises a brow, expectant.

Sangwoo sighs again, this time something softer and more resigned. Resting his hands against his boyfriend’s waist, Sangwoo leans in to kiss him in payment.

“Because you love me,” Jaeyoung says, expression serious even as his eyes dance with amusement.

Putting the trash bags where they actually belong– under the sink– Sangwoo smiles, just enough so that he knows it bleeds into his voice. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Because I love you.”

A couple of hours later, Sangwoo leaves their bedroom looking for Jaeyoung. He finds his boyfriend laying on the couch, sketchpad out. His attention is solely focused on whatever he's drawing and Sangwoo lets himself watch his boyfriend for a few minutes.

It never gets old, seeing Jaeyoung lose himself in what he loves. His pencil moves with sure strokes and he feels a thousand miles away for all that he's in their living room.

"Hyung," Sangwoo calls out softly. "Are you coming to bed?"

Jaeyoung doesn't reply right away and Sangwoo wonders if he didn't hear him. Stepping into the living room, Sangwoo walks over until he's standing behind Jaeyoung. He rests his hands on Jaeyoung's shoulders, leans down to lay a soft kiss on his boyfriend's hair. "Hyung?"

Humming a little, Jaeyoung slowly returns to the land of the living. He tilts his head back to see Sangwoo, smile warm and slow with sleep already curling its edges. "Hey, baby. Are you waiting up for me?"

Sangwoo leans down a little until he can wrap his arms around Jaeyoung's shoulders, until he can kiss the curve of his cheek. "Up to you," he replies easily. "If you want to keep working, I'll go to bed but I won't say no to going together."

Blinking slowly, Jaeyoung studies Sangwoo for a minute. The look in his eyes settles something in Sangwoo and it's warm enough to make him shiver. "Let's go to bed, Jagiya."

With that, Jaeyoung tosses his open sketchpad onto the coffee table and stands up with a groan. He reaches for Sangwoo's hand and pulls him toward their bedroom. Sleep suddenly weighs him down and he wonders how long he was sketching before Sangwoo came to him.

Letting himself be pulled to bed, Sangwoo glances back over his shoulder. He always loves seeing Jaeyoung's art and is curious as to what it was this time that made hos boyfriend lose track of time.

There, on the coffee table, a mostly finished picture sits.

It's two people, an adult and a child, viewed from behind. A playground looms in the background. The little boy holds the man's hand, looking up at him like he holds the answer to any question the boy could think to ask.

The man looks down at the child, the barest hint of a smile tilting his mouth.

Sangwoo turns back to Jaeyoung. His smile is an echo of the one in the sketch-- something small and private and just for him.

[demonangelgarden]

"Um, hold up, Astro One."

The space station seemed to constrict around your body, the stale, metallic air scratching your lungs. Your legs ache for the support of the ground, but you make yourself stand still and wait for further instruction, even though every fiber of your being wants to leave.

"We've done a scan of your ship, standard protocol, and we found something. I'm calling for a more thorough investigation."

"Wha...why? For what?"

You hear someone sigh on the other end, and you can practically see the operation rubbing their forehead in exhaustion. It's been a long decade, for everyone involved. All you want is to see your husband again, have some real food instead of the colorless, flavorless shit that you've been consuming.

"We've found an Unidentified, Avery."

Your heart drops into your stomach. The only time Mission Control uses and astronauts real name is when something really goes down. Trying to compose yourself, you nod and inhale another gulp of the rust-tinted air.

"Okay. What do you need me to do?"

"Stay on the ship, Astro. My team is coming on now, and they'll just be searching the area where the blip showed up."

There was a silence on the other end, just a beat too long, so that you start to think they've disconnected.

"Have there been any odd things you've noticed? Any voices, or seeing things that weren't there?"

You think for a moment. You've heard the stories of deep space astronauts who've gone crazy from the loneliness, but you've prided yourself on not joining that club. The only thing you've done to help the loneliness is....

"No, I don't think so. But I have, um, started talking to someone. An imaginary friend of sorts. Just to keep me company."

You wait for the operator to continue talking, to assure you that everything is going to be okay, that you can go home and be with the people you love for a long time. You know that finding an Unidentified on your ship would surely doom you to at least another year on this hellhole, but at the same time, it won't happy. It can't happen.

"Mission Control? You still there?"

The phone was silent.

"Is this imaginary friend a little less than 6 feet tall with red hair?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

Another silence, this time longer.

"Shit."

You’re an astronaut sent on a solo deep space mission. To combat the loneliness, you’ve created an imaginary friend who you interact with every day. Upon finally returning, mission control stops you. An unidentified lifeform has been detected on your ship.

[almondpiglet]

ppl were drawing mikus from all over so heres habesha miku and her lil twin sibs rin and len!!

[kyle1]

Jesus holds hands with trans people during their hrt shots sorry

No apology is necessary. He absolutely does... because HE loves all of [you], but do not disregard that HE also does this -and gives His love in these moments with tears of pain pouring from His firey eyes

-because you are willfully choosing to abuse HIS SACRIFICE , His shed blood, given to absolve you and me both of such sordid mistakes and lessons in morality and faith -just so you could engage with and/or enable the trans-delusion & all the depths of self-hate that you wittingly glorify by doing so...

It breaks HIS heart that you would still choose to hurt yourself when you are so loved and cherished in such ways- because the act of transitioning it is not a spiritual dying TO self, but a vicious, painful, murdering of the Spirit of the self, AND the adopting of a deceptive, false, limiting persona & traditions in a ghoulish reanimation of the dead[name] -specifically meant to spread confusion and sow discord and virtually create hell on earth,

-and furthermore being in every way a vehicle for hitting the mortal accelerator on a fast track to death in a direct, contrarian affront to one of the original laws of the Old Testament in <Deuteronomy 22:5> which have been further expanded on by our salvation from sin by Jesus' death and resurrection ...

Truly, Jesus is for everyone, and God's love touches us all with each and every breath... But you simply cannot bite the hand that feeds and still expect to live a blessed life. There are still rules... And so to all who willfully disregard the times about them~ God have mercy upon your souls. . . unless-

its never too late to repent . .

today..

tomorrow..

a month from now when you call on Jesus begging for a way out of your own life when it doesn't love up to all you've been dreaming of...

Anytime is a good time to come to Jesus.

Sooner is better.

..but Jesus saves.

just call on Jesus' by name. . .

amen. 🙏

[officialspec]

modern au but set in brisbane. is this anything

[black-quadrant]

sometimes all you need is one passionate person who goes berserk for your work to keep you creating

[umblrspectrum]

i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character

[ear-motif]

fanfic is so good bc the premise of some genres of fic are just inherently funny. I want these two grizzled crime drama protagonists to have some fucking fun for once, so they go to a water park. I dont care how i have to logic my way into them going there i dont care who has to drag them Theyre Going

[demonic0angel]

Court Story Idea

TW: the Joker

Where the Joker is being prosecuted for his crimes within the Ghost Zone and each side (defendant and plaintiff) is able to choose the lawyer for the other side. So that means that the Joker is able to choose an attorney for the plaintiffs AKA Jason, along with other victims, both alive and dead. (For drama’s sake, let’s say that the Justice League is there too, along with the younger generation of heroes.)

When everyone hears this, they’re like ??? Because isn’t that just going to help the Joker??

And the Joker, realizing this, is looking for the most weakest, most vulnerable person to exploit within this ghostly court room and he looks at the back of the room…

And finds Jazz, who’s sitting in a corner behind King Phantom, head down, trying her best to be unnoticed, nose in her papers as she’s writing down what’s said as the court reporter.

And the Joker picks her.

Nobody understands why everyone from the Ghost Zone is suddenly either 1) flabbergasted, 2) completely delighted, or 3) laughing so hard that it’s like they’re about to die a 2nd time.

Because the Joker chose the only person in the room with an actual law degree who is not only the big sister of the literal Ghost King, but also loves children, is fiercely protective of them, and most importantly, has never gotten the opportunity to show off her hard earned degrees in criminology, psychiatry, or law until now.

(Inspired by this post where someone says that Jazz would be the court reporter)