#and i kinda should have by now if i was ever going to :/

[kitkatscabinet]

TAKE ME TO YOUR BEST FRIEND'S HOUSE

Pairings: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne x fem! reader.

Summary: So, he might be going against "bro code". He can't help it, though; his best friend's sibling is just too cute.

A/N: Reader can be imagined as biological/adopted/found family.

DICK GRAYSON & WALLY WEST

How Dick hadn't learnt to not leave his phone unattended was beyond Wally, especially when, for a vigilante, the man had such lax security for his personal phone. Nor should he have ever trusted Wally with the password.

Already drafting his absolute PR nightmare tweet on Dick's account, he's mentally rubbing his evil little hands together when his thumb hits the banner notification that pops up on the top of the screen.

My Heart: Thinking about you, come home soon xo

Alongside the text is a photo, a very suggestive photo of a woman dressed in nothing but one of Dick's hoodies. Wally knows because he bought Dick that hoodie, he's also very familiar with the woman in the photo on account of it being his baby sister.

He shrieks, the phone slipping from his slack with shock grip and landing on his big toe.

He doesn't hear the ringtone over his sudden stream of pained expletives, hopping on one foot, until he hears your voice from the speaker.

"Hey babe! You left your hoodie at - "

"YOU!" Wally screams, blubbering incoherently, pointing an accusing finger at the phone like you can see him.

"Jesus Christ," he can practically see you recoiling away from your phone, "Wally?" You've heard enough of your brother's meltdowns over the years that you can recognise him from just a single word.

"YOU, YOU - YOU HARLOT!" You snort at his words, staying silent until his stream of consciousness is finished.

"You done?" You hum, completely unphased at the tantrum Wally's just thrown for the past seven minutes.

"Am I, am I done? No, I'm not done." He squawks, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!" There's a beat of incredulous silence on your end.

"Excuse me? What have I done to you?"

"DEFILED THE SACRED BOND OF BROTHERHOOD IS WHAT YOU'VE DONE, HE'S MY BEST FRIEND"

"The sacred bond of brotherhood? I'm your fucking sibling, you're supposed to attack him, not me!" Wally can't help but notice how you don't deny his words.

"Oh, believe me, Dickhead is gonna get what's coming to him."

"Yeah, whatever, I'm hanging up now, tell Dick I'm getting pizza for dinner."

"Don't you dare - " He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before you've followed through.

"Hey Wally, have you seen my ... phone?" Dick trails off as he spots the item he's looking for in his agitated friend's hand.

"You don’t fuck your best friends younger sibling. That’s like the number one rule of bro code!” Wally shrieked, not greeting him like a normal person, and not giving Dick even a second to realise what was happening before he was being grabbed and shaken by his shoulders.

"I love her." No explanation, no apologies, just pure earnestness and the softest look Wally had ever seen on his friend's face.

The declaration takes all the wind out of his sails, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He drags a hand down his face slowly,

Finally, he groaned and dragged both hands down his face. "Ugh. I hate that you’re so genuine. It ruins my ability to stay mad. Barry's not going to be happy you kept this from him though."

The mental image of the Flash going protective uncle giving him the slightest bit of sick satisfaction, until Dick shatters his dreams by casually saying, "he already knows."

"He what?! Am I the last to know?" Dick makes a show of thinking about it before shrugging with an unapologetic grin.

"Kinda, yeah."

"I'M SURROUNDED BY TRAITORS!" Wally yells, sinking to his knees in defeat.

JASON TODD & ROY HARPER

Nobody had ever accused Roy of being a detective. He might not be as smart as the bats (an impossible hurdle in Roy's opinion), but he wasn't completely fucking stupid.

An unfortunate reality for his sister, who he'd caught sneaking into the Titans Tower at the ripe time of 4:47 am, wearing a familiar leather jacket with a bullet hole in the sleeve. A jacket that could only mean one of two things.

You had joined a biker gang.

You were dating Jason Todd, AKA, his best friend, AKA dead fucking meat.

Because while option one terrified him, he'd still prefer it to the option he had a sinking suspicion about was actually correct.

The next afternoon, he finds Jason working out in the Tower's gym, and he grins wickedly. Bastard didn't even have to make Roy track him down.

"Hey, Roy." Jason greets, never once faltering in his reps, entirely unbothered, like he hadn’t committed emotional treason.

Roy thinks he could be forgiven for his following action, he could have done a lot worse than picking up the nearest kettlebell and throwing it at his unsuspecting friend.

"WHAT THE FUCK ROY?" Jason screeched as he dove for cover.

"YOU’RE DATING MY SISTER?!"

"Um, what?" He squeaks, before clearing his throat, "I mean... I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't try to gaslight me!" Roy jabbed a finger at him, seething. "You're supposed to be my best friend, and you went and... and started... canoodling my sister."

Jason’s brows shot up in amusement despite himself. "Canoodling?"

"Don't try and deflect either." Roy flushed as red as his hair.

"I’m not—well. Okay. I am. But in my defense, it wasn’t like I planned to fall for your sister."

"Have you kissed?"

Jason contemplates lying but bites the bullet and nods.

Roy gasped like an old lady hearing someone say cunt. "ON PURPOSE?!"

Jason gave him a flat look. "No, Roy, I tripped and fell. Of course, it was on purpose. More than once, too." He smirks, unable to stop himself from prodding the bear.

Roy spasms.

"Ok, let's not make this weird." Jason huffs.

"Make this weird? It's already weird, we're neck deep in it, NAY!, We're drowning in it!"

"Oh dear god," Jason sighs, squeezing his eyes shut and speaking before he can think better of it, "I love her."

Roy chokes, Jason startles, clearly surprising, even himself, "Oh my god, I love her."

There's a heavy, pained silence before Roy croaks "... Bro"

"I know." Jason tugged at the roots of his hair.

"…BRO." Roy was trying to prevent a panic attack, his panic fuelling Jason's.

"I know."

"You love me?" A slightly giddy voice breathes from the doorway.

Both men groan for different reasons as they spot you bouncing toward them.

"Babe, I -"

"I love you too," you beam, throwing your arms around Jason's neck and kissing him like your life depends on it.

Roy gags, forcing you to pull away. "God, this is gonna ruin every group hang for the rest of my life." He whined.

"Nah. You’ll get used to me kissing your sister in front of you."

"I SWEAR TO GOD —"

TIM DRAKE & CONNER KENT

Conner's knee is jiggling furiously. From across the room, Cassie raises a questioning brow, but Conner makes no effort to stop as he checks the time for the fourth time in less than three minutes.

You're late. So is Tim, but it's not him Conner's worried about. You're never late; you've always been a perpetually early person, and you always get so anxious if you aren't. Conner knows, having been on the receiving end of your time-anxious meltdowns more than once.

"Dude, calm down, they're not even five minutes late yet," Bart says, looking at him as if he's the weird one here, when clearly, something terrible has happened to you.

You've been in a car accident (you don't drive), you've been shot, (you're bulletproof), you've been taken hostage by Lex Luthor (plausible), you've -

"Hi guys, sorry I’m late, I slept through my alarm." You laugh bashfully, avoiding Conner's gaze, which narrows in suspicion.

"That never happens." He scowls, his enhanced hearing picking up the slight stutter in your heartbeat.

"Well, it did today." You rolled your eyes, crossing the room to sit next to Cassie.

Barely two minutes later, a harried-looking Tim scurries through the door, brushing his sweaty hair from his face, and in doing so, accidentally reveals a hickey just beneath the neckline of his shirt.

It's only for a second, but that one second is all he needs to connect the dots.

"No." He says, glaring at Tim as everyone else, including you, watches in confusion.

"No?" Tim repeats.

"NO!" Conner snarls, jumping up from his seat and pulling down the neckline of Tim's shirt to display not one, but three love bites.

"YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER?!"

"Technically, there wasn't much sleeping involved - " Tim mutters, with absolutely zero regard for his well-being.

"I trusted you with my life, and you go behind my back to DEFLOWER MY INNOCENT BABY SISTER?!"

"You're the same age?" Tim mumbles at the same time you scoff.

"Deflower? Innocent? Are we living in the Middle Ages? Are you my owner?"

"Stay out of this!" Conner whirls on you, his gaze dangerously red.

"Stay out of my own sex life?" You guffaw, ignoring the way Conner puffs up like an angry cat. "Besides, Tim's hardly my first."

Your words are enough to shock your brother enough that he drops Tim, reeling back with a hand on his chest like he's suffering a heart attack.

You take the opportunity to scoop your partner into your arms, flying away before Kon can recover, until you reach the safety of the bed you've both only just left.

"I think he's actually going to kill me." Tim mumbles, burying his face in your chest.

"Hmm, guess you''ll just have to keep me around forever, for protection."

"Sounds perfect." Tim dreamily says, clutching you even tighter in contentment.

BRUCE WAYNE & CLARK KENT

Once, there would have been a time when interviewing Gotham’s Bruce Wayne would have left him an anxious wreck, but now, Clark relished in the opportunity. Giddy that his best friend, no matter how much the man denied it, would turn to him (him! A Metropolis interloper), instead of someone like that tart Vicki Vale.

(That thought has him mentally apologising to his ma for his crudeness, but what she wouldn't know, couldn't hurt her.)

Needless to say, Clark was excited to have been given the chance, and he refused to squander it.

They were in Bruce's "office," a room they both knew he hardly ever even stepped foot inside, but had occupied to keep up the facade.

A brilliant facade it was, Clark thought in amusement, as he watched Brucie Wayne ramble on earnestly. Nobody would ever suspect the man, reaching for his wallet to pull out a picture of his kids in an interview on Wayne Enterprises' newest ventures, to be the fearsome Batman.

Clark, ever affable, just smiles, nodding along until a second picture flutters onto the desk. Bruce freezes, his perfected mask slipping just a fraction, but enough for Clark to notice as the unshakeable man's eyes widen in sheer panic.

Bruce was composed. He was always in control, a master of self-control. Bruce was unflappable, he had a plan for everything.

Bruce, evidently, did not have a plan, beyond freezing in horror, for when an intimate Polaroid of his girlfriend, Clark's sister, landed face up on the table between them.

You're wearing one of his button-up shirts, seated sideways across Bruce's lap, the man's large hand clasped over your thigh, as you stare up at him like he's your whole world.

Clark paused, staring at the photo on the desk like it was a live grenade.

Bruce, very carefully, snuck a hand out to retrieve it. Only to be thwarted by Clark's superspeed. He holds it between his thumb and his index finger like it might bite him, the blinding grin never once fading from his face.

Bruce thinks it's the most terrifying Clark has ever looked.

There's a long pause, with Bruce mentally calculating how long it will take before he has some Kryptonite on his hands and whetehr or not Clark will flatten him before then.

"Oh my god," Clark said.

Bruce grimaced. "It's not what it looks like."

"It looks like you're dating my sister."

"Ok, it's exactly what it looks like, but—" He cuts off once more as Clark speaks with surprising giddiness.

"You carry her around in your wallet. Like a real boyfriend, it's sickeningly sweet."

Bruce opened his mouth, closing it and opening it again repeatedly like a stunned fish as he blushed a brilliant red.

Clark wasn’t finished; if anything, he looked like Christmas had come early.

"Is there more?" Bruce stiffens, "There is! Do you have a shrine? I bet you have a shrine!"

"Clark."

"Is it in the batcave?"

"Clark."

"What about a scrapbook? Is she on the manor walls yet?"

"Clark."

"Do your kids know? Wait, am I the last to know?!" He seemed genuinely hurt by that thought.

Bruce looked up at the ceiling like it could save him from the confrontation; he thinks he'd rather fight than... whatever the hell, it is Clark's doing.

[harpnotes]

At first, I was angry.

But now, I'm just sad. Imagine if this guy had been given the education when he was younger. Imagine if he'd been taught this in school.

It's easy to scoff at this kinda thing, but just Remember- there are children out there right now who don't know. You feel bad for them right now, right? Well, imagine them in 50 years. Will you no longer feel bad for them? Will you say "oh, well you should have known, you should have been taught"? At what exact moment does your "I am angry because nobody is teaching you" turn into "I'm angry at you for not knowing"?

More importantly, think about all the stuff you don't know. One day, you're going to be 65 years old, and you won't know everything. Are you saying that when that day comes, you give everyone full permission to ridicule you and call you stupid? Or will you suddenly say "well, nobody ever taught me that; it isn't my fault"?

[monzabee]

breathe (2 AM) - s. reid

criminal minds masterlist ||

Summary: it’s 2 AM and you are out of breath. oh, and you really have something important to tell your best friend. 

Pairing: postprison!spencer reid x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.1k 

Warnings: kissing, kinda angsty but also not, running  

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Breathe, you remind yourself as you push your legs to run faster, breathe. 

Then, you look at the watch on your wrist–it reads, 2 AM. Nothing good happens after 2 AM, you think. You should turn back, go home, forget about everything you’re about to do.  

It’s pure madness.  

The type of crazy you never go for under normal circumstances but nothing about this situation is normal anyway, so why dwell on it unnecessarily? Your mind is still swirling with Spencer’s words earlier that evening, and Penelope’s words from moments ago which has you running through the streets of downtown Virginia–something Spencer is probably going to scold for you, though you’ve always been an avid believer in asking for forgiveness rather than permission.  

“If you don’t tell him now, when will you tell him?” That was the last thing Penelope asked you before you made your way out of her apartment. Simple, blunt even, as if the answer should have been obvious. And maybe it should have been. Maybe you should have done this hours ago when Spencer was looking at you, almost pleadingly–or even days ago, maybe even months ago. But fear has always been a comfortable excuse, and love?  

Love is terrifying. 

“But isn’t love worth it?” Emily asked when you told her just how much you were afraid of messing things up. Because that has always been the problem, hasn’t it? It’s always you that messed up, never the other person, but always you. And messing up with Spencer means losing him, which could never be an option.  

“You could never lose Spencer,” JJ assured you, not hesitating to also point out, “he’s the most stubborn person I know, and he wouldn’t let that happen.” 

Yet, the fear still lingers, curling around your ribs like a vice. Because what if they’re wrong? It’s easy to say it in your mind, but what if saying it out loud changes everything?  

You push the thought away as you turn the last corner, Spencer’s apartment now in sight. The building is quiet, the streetlights casting long, lonely shadows on the pavement. Your heart is pounding, not from the run, but from the sheer weight of what you’re about to do. 

Breathe, you remind yourself as you force yourself to walk up to his building. It’s 2.08 AM now. Breathe, you force yourself as you inhale deeply, closing your eyes for just a second. You can do this. 

Your hands are shaking as you reach for the door, the cool metal grounding you for a brief moment before you finally push it open. The hallway is dimly lit, eerily quiet at this hour, and each step toward his apartment feels heavier than the last. The doorman gives you a small smile, and you try to return it as best as you can.  

Your lungs burn from running all the way as you force yourself up the stairs, practically skipping every other step. This is Spencer, you remind yourself. Your best friend. The one person who has always been safe. So why does this feel like the scariest thing you’ve ever done? You couldn’t have imagined the look he’d given you before you left work, right? That look; the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the way his lips parted like he wanted to say something but never did – it’s what got you here in the first place. 

You reach his door before you can second-guess yourself again. Raising a fist, you knock–soft at first, then firmer when there’s no immediate response. 

For a moment, nothing. Then, footsteps. The faint sound of locks clicking open, revealing Spencer in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, his hair a disheveled mess. He blinks at you, sleep still evident in his eyes, but the second he registers that it’s you standing in his doorway at–he glances at the clock, 2.10 AM, his brows furrow in concern. 

“Are you okay?” His voice is rough, a little breathless like he wasn’t expecting you, but his brows furrow, scanning you for any sign of distress. “What’s wrong? You are shivering.” 

For a moment he looks like him again, the Spencer who didn’t spend three months in prison, who didn’t see his girlfriend get shot right before his eyes–the Spencer, who wasn’t forced into a drug addition by one of the unsubs.  

He calls your name, and your eyes focus on him again, “Hey.” His voice is softer now as he takes a step closer to you, “Talk to me.” 

You swallow hard. Breathe. 

“I–” You stop, shaking your head. No more stalling. No more running. You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. Say it. Just say it. Just say it, goddamn it. “I couldn’t wait until tomorrow,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “I tried, but I–” Another breath. Another step forward. “I love you, Spencer.” 

The words hang between you, heavy and fragile all at once. Spencer blinks. His lips part slightly like he wants to say something, but for a long moment, he just stares at you. And you start to panic. 

What if I read everything wrong? What if I just ruined everything? 

But then; so softly, like he’s afraid of breaking the moment, he exhales your name. 

“You– ” He swallows hard, his voice almost shaking. “You love me?” 

You nod, your heart beatin in your ears. “I do.” 

He takes another step forward, so close now you can see the exact moment his breath hitches. His hands hover for a second–like he’s giving you one last chance to pull away before they gently frame your face, fingertips barely pressing into your skin. 

“I love you, too,” he murmurs. “I think I always have.” 

Your heart stutters. “You do?” 

Spencer lets out a soft, breathless laugh. “I was going to tell you tomorrow. But I’m really glad you didn’t wait.” 

And then he kisses you. 

It’s hesitant at first, careful like he’s trying to memorize everything, the way you feel, the way you taste, the way you sigh against his lips. Then, he deepens it, arms winding around you like he’s afraid you might disappear. His arms envelope you as his hands thread through your hair, holding you even closer to himself. 

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t believe you ran here,” he murmurs, amusement laced in his voice. 

You laugh softly; breath still uneven. “How’d you know?” 

“You’re out of breath,” Spencer presses another lingering kiss to your forehead before whispering, “Breathe.” 

[karikarasuno]

part ten | part eleven | part twelve

the library is hosting career week this week, so cora invited law to speak with some of the kids. law agreed even though he's not really good with kids. they kinda scare him. they're unfiltered and often times loud and law has a difficult time understanding them when they talk too quickly.

law has never even held a baby besides his little sister. and that was a very long time ago. but he agrees to it anyway. especially because cora is sneaky, conniving, and manipulative. he purposely asked when you were around. that cunning son of a bitch.

"so, law, i have a favor to ask," cora says as the three of you lounge in law's patio late one evening. you're playing some game on your phone beside him while cora stretches out in a lounge chair.

"no," law says without hesitation.

"that's not very nice. you don't even know what it is," cora pouts, but not really. he's a faker. and definitely up to something when his eyes quickly flick over to you.

"babe, just hear the poor man out," you say, eyes still locked on your phone screen. you always pity cora for some reason. you have a soft spot for him that law doesn't really understand. he should appreciate that you two get along so well. except for when it doesn't work in his favor. which is often, much to law's frustration.

"yeah, listen to her, she knows what she's talking about," cora nods slyly. law could strangle him.

"fine," he begrudgingly agrees. "what do you want?"

cora smiles, close-lipped and smug. like law has already agreed to whatever favor this is.

"so i was wondering," cora starts slowly, carefully picking out his words, "if you could stop by the library for career week and speak to the kids about what its like being a doctor."

law groans. cora is aware of law's discomfort around children. cora thinks it's funny. law doesn't understand the joke.

"no," he reiterates with a tone of finality. but his no doesn't last long. not when you gasp beside him and set down your phone to look over at him.

"why not?" you complain. "that would be so cute!"

"i don't think i'd ever describe it as 'cute'," law huffs in his seat, refusing to look at you because he already knows the face you're making. one that he has a really hard time saying no to.

"aw, come on!" you place both of your hands on his forearm and lightly shake him. he glares at cora. "just think about it. all those little kids sitting around listening to you talk about how cool it is to be a doctor. it'll be fun."

"again," he reinforces, "not exactly a word i'd use to describe this particular situation."

he feels you scoot closer to him and you prop your chin on his shoulder. his resolve is in shambles right now. he cannot stand his brother. "if it makes you feel any better i'll go with you."

"why would that make me feel better?" he grumbles, glancing down at you from the corner of his eye.

"because i'll be there for moral support. just say yes, i promise it won't be that bad."

"i don't know." this is a yes disguised as a no with an air of indecisiveness. law is losing. and he's annoyed by it.

"don't be such a grouch." you lightly slap his chest before turning your focus to cora. "we're going."

the look on cora's face is triumphant. he didn't even have to work for it. law makes a silent vow that next time they're alone, he's going to punch his brother.

and that's how he ends up at the library at 10am on a saturday. the last day of career week and therefore the fucking busiest as families crowd every corner. it's also hot outside. law's sweating and he wants to blame the sun, but he knows what it really is. anxiety.

"thanks for coming!" cora's voice rings out in the busy entrance. his arms open wide as he greets you two. he's wearing the glasses chain you bought him for his birthday, and law doesn't miss the flash of excitement on your face.

"well thank you for the invite," you say, offering cora a quick hug before reaching back to grab law's hand. you don't recoil when you feel how sweaty it is which he appreciates. you just drag a soothing thumb over the back of his hand and pretend as if you cannot feel the wave of nerves that's surely emitting from law. he feels radioactive. especially after he takes one singular step further into the library and a child that barely reaches his knees runs straight into him.

"ope, careful there," you say with a light laugh, reaching down to help the young boy from the floor. he giggles and you smile and then his mom comes to collect him. but law doesn't miss the look on your face. it could be longing or appreciation or something else entirely. something he's never felt before.

"we're in a place where you have to look down," you whisper to him. "tiny people walk amongst us."

you wink. he rolls his eyes, but smiles nonetheless. however small it may be.

it doesn't go as horribly as law thinks it will. the children are actually well-behaved as they sit criss cross applesauce in front of him. he's managed to squeeze himself into a chair that's far too small for him. he doesn't know how cora lives like this. and when he's done talking about his job the children ask questions.

"is it icky cutting people open?" the boy is no more than 6 and he's missing his two front teeth.

"sometimes, yeah, but you get used to it."

"is there a lot of blood?" a young girl with a head of chunky curls asks.

"well, yes," law answers, confused because it's an obvious one.

"blegh." she sticks her tongue out with disgust. "what happens if you're a vampire? can you still be a doctor?"

law looks around for you. you're sitting in the back beside a mother and her baby. positively amused. he doesn't know if he should burst the young girl's bubble and tell her that vampires aren't real. but what if that's like telling her santa isn't real? the last thing he needs is a crying child. but he can't fight the urge to be honest. so he goes with "in books and movies, sure they can. in real life i think that would be a health violation."

you snicker behind your hand when he glances at you. and his chest fills with fondness. so maybe he answered the question correctly. the young girl seems satisfied enough.

and when it's over he almost misses all the innocent curiosity. but he can't ignore the relief he feels when he sees all the kids file out of the room and onto the next fun activity cora has planned for them. you're speaking with the mom who was sitting behind you when it ends. and instead of disrupting your conversation he decides to go to the bathroom while he has a free chance.

but law doesn't expect to see you, alone in the center of the entryway holding a baby and a diaper bag, when he exits the bathroom. you're cooing at her. fussing over the bow in her hair. bouncing her slightly in your arms until she giggles.

law also doesn't expect something akin to yearning that fills his chest. that makes his heart race. that unlocks something strange and unfamiliar in his mind. he can't approach you just yet. instead he stands out of your view and watches you. the baby plays with the pendant on your necklace. and you whisper something to her that law knows she doesn't understand. but you say it anyway. and you smile all the same.

well, law can't stand the sight. and he realizes that it's because it's a temporary one.

“where’d you get that?” he asks when he finally approaches you. the baby decides she's tired and rests her head on your shoulder. it's cute. and also weird how natural it looks. law's uncomfortable.

“are you referring to the baby?” you laugh incredulously. it shakes the baby but she doesn't seem to mind.

"yes," he says slowly accompanied with a single nod.

"her mom had to go sign some paperwork for her son. she's somewhere around here with cora and i offered to watch her until she was done," you answer easily. like it's a normal occurrence for you to be holding stranger's babies.

"and she trusted you?"

"i'm not gonna kidnap her!" you say with another laugh. "even though, she is cute enough to steal."

the baby reaches for law. her hands are tiny and chubby and she's trying to grasp his necklace. she seems to be fascinated by them.

"aw, she likes you," you gush but feeling his tension you angle her away from him. he's grateful for it. but he doesn't stop staring at you. he can't. since when are you so good with babies? this one hasn't even cried and she just met you.

"ah, thank you so much!" her mom returns, scooping her child from your arms and offering you a relieved smile.

"it was no problem. she was an angel," you grin, leaning over to tickle the baby until she giggles. "we're kinda besties now."

and the whole way home, law thinks about you. the baby. you and the baby.

you with his baby.

that's his last thought before he pulls into the driveway.

"i was thinking pasta for dinner," you say flippantly as you get out of the car. he can't answer because he's distracted.

"maybe pesto?" you ask as you unlock the front door to your house. you two spend most of your time here because of chopper. but he doesn't mind because he likes the smell. and being surrounded by you.

what would you look like pregnant?

he stops abruptly behind you and you don't even notice. you just flit around your home like everything is normal. and for you it is. but law is somehow dying inside? or maybe this is the most alive he's ever felt...

"you alright, weirdo?" you finally notice how he's just standing there as you set your purse down on the dining room table. and he looks at you, glances down at your belly, eyes your hips, and suddenly his thoughts are vulgar and wholly unnecessary.

"do you want kids?" he blurts out, hands balling into fists before his fingers flex.

"what?" you say stunned, pausing your approach towards him. you blink up at him as if you're stuck in a glitch. and your lips are stuck somewhere between a smile and grimace.

"today," he starts, taking a measured step towards you, "when you were holding that baby you looked happy."

"i like babies," you titter.

"do you want one?" he asks again, but closer to you this time.

"i'd prefer a ring first," you reply shrewdly. "but i'm not opposed to practice."

"i wasn't coming onto you," he shakes his head amused, backing you up against the table.

"just in," you whisper, delighted with yourself. "at least you were thinking about it."

"and what gave me away?" his hips press into you, his hands finding your waist and bunching up the fabric of your shirt.

"well for one," you glance down, "you're hard."

"and two?" he slips his hands under your shirt, splaying his fingers across your stomach.

"you're asking me about babies." you hop onto the table, lifting your skirt to rest above your knees and spreading your legs. "and we've never talked about babies before."

"maybe not," he says, leaning over to bury his face in your neck. "i've never really thought about them. about having kids."

your hand cards through his hair as he breathes in the scent that's sunken into your skin. and for as turned on as he his, he can't stop his muscles from relaxing into you. he bears most of his weight down onto you. and he knows he's heavy. but you seem to hold him up regardless.

"and what's different now?" you're breathless. he hasn't even begun touching you the way he wants.

"you, obviously," he taunts, kissing your collarbone and you tug his hair at his tone. he nips at your neck in retaliation.

"no, i wanna know what you're thinking." you pull his face out from where he was so comfy against your shoulder.

"tell me." your hand covers his where it rests on your stomach. your lips ghosts his when you whisper, "please."

he kisses you, but not because he has a choice. but because your pull is too strong. he'd do anything you asked. it would be an issue if this was one sided, but law knows how infrequently you say no to him.

"i want to have kids, but only with you," he says between kisses. "want to get you pregnant. want to see you holding our baby."

you gasp and your head falls back. "do you want that too?"

"jeez, law," you whine, "you can't just spring this on me. not like this."

he's referring to the hand that's traveling up your thigh. to the hand that's gripping your skirt and shoving it over your hips.

"i think this is the perfect time to discuss children," he smiles against your lips, wiggling your underwear down your thighs until it drops to your ankles.

"fine," you admit, "your babies. i'll have yours, but i expect a good push present."

he chortles despite himself. laughs as he unbuttons his jeans. "whatever you want. its yours."

he kisses you harder as he frees himself and lines up with your entrance.

"wait, you're not gonna-" you break the kiss to stare down between your legs. there's not much to see since your skirt is covering up the real view.

"no, we're practicing." he pushes you onto your back, bringing your hips to the edge of the table. and without a second thought. without an ounce of regret. he sinks into you for the first time without anything separating you.

god, he's not gonna last. you pulse around him and you're so wet. so warm. he nearly chokes. a dam has been broken. thoughts flood his mind. he needs to fill you. he needs to cum inside you. to see you round with his baby. to see you coo and giggle and fuss over his baby.

perfect. you're perfect. he can't imagine life without you. and as his thrusts quicken-- as his strokes deepen-- a future he's never considered but now consumes him flashes through his mind. you. a wedding. a pregnancy test. building a crib. watching as you babble over tiny clothes.

you. here. with him. moaning as you fist his shirt and grind down on him. begging for more. locking your ankles around the small of his back.

"wanna feel you." you smear the words slurred and moist across his cheek. "want you to cum inside me."

his grip tightens on your hips. you don't wince, even though he knows it's gonna bruise in the morning.

"yeah?" he replies, not thinking properly. just needing to give you exactly what you want.

"yes, yes, please," you nod. you're whinier than you've ever been. desperate. clawing at his clothes.

"oh-k," he stutters when you clench around him. "i can do that for you."

the air gets knocked out of him. or maybe it gets stuck in his chest. maybe he's suffocating on it. as he comes inside of you hard and hurried and hopelessly.

he doesn't know how long it takes for him to calm down. to feel his toes again. to get rid of the tingles that ripple down his body and then back up again.

all he knows is that you're fluttering around him and squirming beneath him. releasing short, yet satisfied noises directly into his ear.

"every time i think i know you," you simper, still catching your breath, "you go and surprise me."

he's confused. law didn't really think of himself as unpredictable. "how?"

"i mean, underneath all that seriousness and bravado, who would've thought you'd be into this?" you slip your hand down between your thighs. you lift your skirt. showing him the mess he's making. he's leaking out of you. and he's still inside of you. he's almost impressed.

"i should start tracking my cycle, though." you gather some of his cum on your fingers. "wouldn't want any accidents."

and then you lick them clean. law has no idea what he's gonna do with you.

[songwithnosoul]

#i always imagines his shoes to be cowboy boots underneath it all. the lightning mcqueen of character designs

#its that all of them are equaly wild and it balances out

#and he wears the sunglasses at night too

#trying to explain to non-artists how absolutely fucked up it is trying to draw this man#like the line from this man’s cheek fo jawline is so weird for me?? shit just sticks out somehow#Mans always in contrapposto#the ‘huh??’ face#also. i am obsessed with sissel having a New York accent so consider- those aren’t vans they’re timbs#it takes a certain kind of deranged to go around in ghost white timbs

#I read his shoes as uhh the word escapes me. but patent leather dress shoes. like gangsters wear in movies.

#it’s the dead guy rizz

#i should dress like this to prom

#that. that design#it calls to me#tumblr approved man

#who is this man? not even he knows#sissel: i don't know why i made these fashion choices but i'm stuck with em now#he looks so stupid and so rad at the same time

#he looks so so stupid i love him#the fucking hair

#AND he’s got amnesia so he can’t even remember why he made those fashion choices in the first place lmaoooooo

#on anyone else it would look bad. but he has the Swag.

#the sunglasses and the way his sprites are drawn help#like both art style and posing#god the character design is so good in this game#he’s so lively for a character with static sprites#like the art style in general makes most everything look good#except the curry prisoner guy

#it's been forever since i played ghost trick but nonsense that makes perfect sense was jus part of the game which yknow good for them

#he has banana hair a red suit with white loafers and is wearing sunglasses constantly#he looks like a giant douchebag but it’s still the best thing ever#ghost trick

#who is this man#yeah sissel wishes he knew that too

#the character design and art direction in this game is just off the charts awesome#and Sissel is like on the milder end of the scale too

#genuinely when i first saw the hair i thought#what the fuck is this game that i’m playing

#truly he goes from what the fuck kinda design in your eyes to best character design so fast

i can't believe im saying a banana dressed like a ketchup bottle looks hard as fuck but he does. he fucks. what STYLE what GRACE i want his GENDER

#wanna hit him w my car#affectionate. ur cool sissel

#Uhm actually those are the dirk strider glasses *I am shot and killed immediately *

#he's so cool and so awful to look at

#the nature of following people in different is that every so often#you run into cherry flavored present mic with not a clue as to why or who that is#and it's just a normal occurrence

#the whole reason I ever even considered playing Ghost Trick#this weird man's incredible design#what the heck#it's a work of art

#Truly one of the designs ever

#also the banana hair is supposed to emulate the tail of a spirit/soul#trust me if you saw the other ideas for his hair

#fr hes got a perfect colour palette

#play ghost trick for more successful fashion failures

#love him or hate him he exudes an energy of mystery from his first appearance

#the sheer audacity and smugness is what ties it all together#nobody would be caught dead in that fit but this man rocks it#ALSO WHITE FUCKING SHOES

#i need to steal his clothes#Just missing the white tie and white shoes

#its cool when u dont think about how his everyday life must be#how much hair gel does he use??#him with his hair down is cursed and Not Him#the banana hair is important#just dont think about it too hard

#Honestly when i was watching the playthru a million years ago i would totaly forget that his hair has an end#u know cuz the icon screen cuts it off#bezerk sword hair in my heart

#it's called confidence baby and it comes from fucking cluelessness as all confidence should

#he doesn’t realize how insane he looks due to REDACTED and amnesia

#i wrestle with this conundrum ever damn time i look at him

#Looks like a sci-if Ronald McDonald

#imagine waking up dead looking like this and not knowing a thing about why you look like this

#it's even funnier when you learn his occupation#like oh. you do that? and you go to work dressed like that?#ok dude

#especially how the expressions work on it too....#like with his Completely Dumbfounded and :0 expressions you feel like it shouldn't work but it does!!!!

#simultaneously silly and actually kinda cool. very distinct.#and you have to take it seriously during the emotional scenes anyway#i like the sunglasses at night though thats the finishing touch

#idk who this man is but with any wacky outfit you need confidence to carry it off. and he’s got panache in *spades*

#yeah#design that in any other context would make me go oh dirk? but they shot straight past it into a whole new loser#and it rules

#a fucking muppet that's what he is

#‘who is this man’ this character design for this game? gets you asking the right kind of questions#literally perfect no further notes necessary

#hey guys if you're on mobile open the sissel image and make the guy zoom around your screen :)

#if vash and wolfwood had a baby this is what he would look like

#absolutely nothing about the designs in ghost trick feels like they should work#they're all categorically insane#and yet they work SO well

#its about confidence. the swagger of a man who has lost everything

#he looks like an exclamation point

#also notably ghost trick was on the ds originally and this man is SHAPED. you can see him no matter how low poly he is

#He should’ve been a tumblr sexyman I’m so serious

sissel's character design elements are so deranged individually yet somehow they all end up working together to make the most baller design youve ever seen. i really dont know how to describe it ive never seen anything quite like it.

[hans-wh0re]

FRICTION

Synopsis: There's something seriously wrong with your boyfriend, and it's called chronic humping syndrome. or the one where Changbin literally cannot stop grinding against you (or anything that smells like you) for even five minutes, and tonight he's more desperate than you've ever seen him. W.C: 2.5 K Pairing: changbin x afab reader smut tags: humping kink, desperate grinding, dry humping, clothing ruining, thigh riding, clothed sex, possessive behavior (kinda?), multiple orgasms, begging, whimpering, precum soaking, rutting, unprotected sex, cream!pie, overstimulation .... A.N: this has been sitting on my drafts for a while. I'm not 100% satisfied with it, but i haven't written anything these past few days due to health issues, so i figured i'd post something. Anyways enjoy.

--------

You've barely put your key in the lock when you hear that familiar, telltale whimpering from behind your apartment door.

"Fuck" you mutter, already knowing exactly what you're about to walk in on.

The door swings open to reveal your living room and, more importantly, your boyfriend Changbin on your couch. He's face-down, fully clothed, desperately rutting against what appears to be—yep, that's definitely your favorite hoodie wadded up beneath him. His hips pump frantically, the fabric of his sweatpants stretched tight across his ass as he grinds his cock against your clothing with single-minded determination.

He's so lost in it that he doesn't even notice you standing there, watching as he humps your hoodie like a teenager who just discovered what his dick is for. The little desperate whines escaping his throat make your pussy clench involuntarily, and pathetic as it is, the sight of him grinding against anything that smells like you never fails to turn you on.

"Couldn't even make it to the bedroom this time?" you ask, dropping your bag by the door.

Changbin's head whips around, his eyes wide and glazed with arousal. His hips don't stop moving though, not even for a second.

"You're home," he gasps, his voice strained. "Early."

"And you're humping my clothes. Again." You kick off your shoes, oddly calm about finding your grown-ass boyfriend dry-humping your hoodie on the couch. This isn't exactly a rare occurrence.

"Missed you," he groans, still grinding. "Needed—needed something."

You approach the couch, taking in the state of him. His hair is disheveled, forehead glistening with sweat, and there's a large wet spot at the front of his gray sweatpants where his cock has been leaking. He looks wrecked, and judging by the stuttering rhythm of his hips, he's close to coming but trying to hold back now that you're here.

"How long have you been at this?" you ask, genuinely curious. Sometimes Changbin can go for hours, just rutting against various surfaces like a dog in heat.

"Since—fuck—since you left for work," he admits, his hips still moving in desperate little circles. "Been so hard all day. Couldn't stop thinking about you."

Nine hours. He's been humping your stuff for nine fucking hours.

"Have you even eaten?" you ask, though you already know the answer. When Changbin gets like this, everything else ceases to exist.

He shakes his head, whimpering as a particularly good thrust sends a visible shudder through his body. "Just needed this. Need you more though. Please—"

The desperation in his voice makes your core throb with arousal despite your better judgment. It should be ridiculous, pathetic even, to find a grown man humping your clothes this hot. But there's something about the raw need Changbin displays and the way he completely loses himself in seeking friction, that never fails to ignite your own desire.

"Let me change first," you say, stepping back. "And you should probably drink some water if you've been at this all day."

"No," he whines, reaching for you. "Please, just—just let me—"

You know what he wants. What he always wants. With a sigh that's more for show than actual exasperation, you step closer again, presenting your leg.

Changbin abandons your hoodie immediately, scrambling to position himself against your thigh with an urgency that would be comical if it weren't so genuinely desperate. He hooks one leg over yours, pressing his sweatpants-covered cock against you, and groans in relief.

"Fuck," he breathes, his eyes falling closed as he starts to move. "Needed this so bad."

You stand there in your work clothes, your boyfriend attached to your leg like some kind of horny koala, rutting against you with an intensity that should be embarrassing but is somehow just… Changbin.

"Better than my hoodie?" you ask, unable to keep the amusement from your voice despite the heat building between your own legs.

"So much better," he whimpers, his movements growing more frantic. "Nothing feels as good as you. Nothing."

His hips work against your thigh in a desperate rhythm, his cock hard and leaking through his sweatpants. You can feel the dampness seeping through to your skin, evidence of just how worked up he truly is.

"Please don't stop me," he begs, voice breaking. "I'm so close. Been edging all day. Need to come so bad."

You reach down to stroke his hair, oddly tender despite the absolute filth of the situation. "Go ahead, baby. Make a mess for me."

That's all the permission Changbin needs. His hips stutter, his rhythm faltering as he grinds himself hard against your thigh. A broken moan tears from his throat as he comes, his body shuddering against yours. You can feel the warmth spreading through his sweatpants as he pumps his release against your leg, his face contorted in pleasure.

For a moment, you think that might be enough to take the edge off. That maybe, just maybe, you can now change clothes and have a normal evening with your boyfriend.

You should know better by now.

Changbin's hips slow but don't stop, his cock still hard against your thigh despite the impressive wet patch spreading across the front of his pants. He looks up at you, his eyes dark and hungry.

"Need more," he whispers, almost apologetic. "Still so hard."

You sigh, resigned to your fate. "Let me at least change first."

Changbin whines but reluctantly detaches himself from your leg, already palming his cock through his soaked sweatpants as you walk toward the bedroom. You know without looking that his eyes are fixed on your ass, tracking your movements like prey.

The second you're in the bedroom, you hear him behind you, his breathing already labored again. You don't even make it to the closet before his front is pressed against your back, his cock grinding insistently against your ass.

"Binnie," you warn, though there's no real heat in it. "At least let me get out of my work clothes."

"Take them off," he agrees, but makes no move to step back, continuing to rut against you as you attempt to unbutton your blouse. "God, your ass feels so good."

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he grinds himself against you in tight circles. You can feel how wet his sweatpants are from his earlier orgasm, the dampness transferring to the back of your skirt.

"You're ruining my clothes," you point out, finally managing to shrug off your blouse despite Changbin's octopus-like attachment to your backside.

"I'll buy you new ones," he promises, his voice strained. "Need this more than you need that skirt."

You can't argue with that logic, not when his desperation is so palpable. You reach back to unzip your skirt, letting it fall to the floor and leaving you in just your underwear and bra. Changbin moans at the increased access, his cock now grinding directly against your panty-covered ass.

"Much better," he groans, his movements becoming more frantic. "Fuck, you feel so good. Been thinking about this all day."

"I can tell," you say dryly, reaching back to unhook your bra. "You couldn't even make it five minutes without humping something."

Changbin doesn't deny it, too far gone in his pleasure to formulate a defense. His hands slide around to cup your breasts as soon as your bra falls away, earning a small moan that went straight to his cock, his hips never ceasing their relentless grinding against your ass.

"Can't help it," he admits, his voice breaking on a particularly good thrust. "Just need it so bad. Need you so bad."

You turn in his arms, pushing him back just enough to get a good look at him. His sweatpants are absolutely ruined, soaked through with cum and precum, clinging obscenely to his still-hard cock. His t-shirt is rumpled and damp with sweat, his pupils blown wide with arousal.

"You're a mess," you tell him, but there's fondness in your voice. "Take off those pants first."

Changbin scrambles to comply, shoving his sweatpants down his legs with such urgency that he nearly trips. His cock springs free, angry red and glistening wet, bouncing against his stomach. It's clear from how swollen and sensitive it looks that he's been playing with himself all day, probably edging for hours before finally letting himself come against your thigh.

"Your shirt too," you direct, stepping out of your own panties and moving toward the bed. "Since you can't keep yourself under control for even five minutes, we might as well do this properly."

Changbin nearly rips his shirt in his haste to remove it, his eyes never leaving your naked body. The moment you sit on the edge of the bed, he's there, positioning himself between your legs, his cock sliding against your inner thigh.

"Can I?" he asks, breathless with need. "Please, baby, I need to—"

"Yes," you cut him off, spreading your legs wider. "But you're going to make me come first."

Changbin nods frantically, dropping to his knees in front of you. But instead of using his mouth like a normal person might, he grips your thighs and pulls you forward until your pussy is pressed against his cock. Then he starts to rut, sliding his shaft through your folds without entering you, the underside dragging against your clit with each movement.

"Fuck," you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. Changbin might be obsessed with grinding, but he's perfected the technique over countless sessions.

"So wet already," he groans, his eyes fixed on where his cock slides through your slick heat. "Love how wet you get for me. Fuck. Love how you let me hump you wherever, whenever I need it."

His shameless admission should be a turn-off, but instead, it sends a fresh wave of arousal through you. There's something undeniably hot about how completely gone he is for you, how he can't control himself around you or even things that remind him of you.

Changbin's hips work in frantic circles, his cock sliding through your folds with increasing urgency. The tip bumps against your clit with each pass, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

"I-i'm gonna come again," he whimpers, sounding almost pained. "Fuckkk. Can't hold back. Feels too good."

"Wait," you command voice barely audible over Changbin's moans, gripping his shoulders. "Inside me this time."

You don't have to tell him twice. Changbin surges forward, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance and pushing in with one smooth thrust. But instead of pulling back to establish a proper rhythm, he grinds deep inside you, his pubic bone pressed firmly against your clit.

"Fuck," he groans, his head dropping to your shoulder as his hips work in tight circles. "Nothing feels as good as this. Nothing in the whole fucking world."

The constant pressure against your g-spot and clit has you seeing stars, your hands clutching at his back as pleasure builds rapidly. Changbin's movements grow more desperate, his cock twitching inside you as he fights to hold back his orgasm.

"L-let me feel you-fuck- come," he begs, his voice wrecked. "Need to feel you squeezing my cock. Please, baby, come for me."

His words, combined with the relentless grinding, push you over the edge. Your walls clench around him as pleasure washes through you, pulling a broken moan from your throat.

Changbin follows immediately, unable to resist the feeling of your pussy pulsing around him. He grinds deep into you as he comes, whimpering your name against your skin, his entire body shaking with the force of his release.

For a moment, you both stay frozen, catching your breath. Then, almost imperceptibly, Changbin's hips start to move again.

"Binnie!," you groan, oversensitive. "Seriously?"

He looks at you with an expression that's half apologetic, half desperate. Again. "Can't help it," he admits, his cock somehow still hard inside you despite coming twice already. "Just need a little more."

You fall back on the bed, resigned to your fate. "Fine. But I'm not moving. You do all the work."

Changbin's face lights up, as if you've just offered him the greatest gift imaginable instead of grudgingly allowing him to continue rutting against—well, inside—you.

"Thank you," he breathes, positioning himself over you, his hips already resuming their grinding motion. "Promise I'll make it good for you too."

And somehow, he does. Despite the absurdity of the situation, despite the fact that your boyfriend seems physically incapable of not humping something for more than five minutes at a time, he knows exactly how to move to bring you pleasure.

His grinding continues, relentless in its precision, hitting spots inside you that make your toes curl. His hands find your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples as his hips maintain their circular rhythm.

"Could do this forever," he groans, his face contorted in pleasure. "Just grinding inside you, feeling you so tight and wet around me. Nothing better than this."

You believe him. The single-minded focus with which Changbin approaches humping, whether it's against your thigh, your ass, your hoodie, or now, inside you—borders on religious devotion.

"You're so fucking weird," you tell him, but your body betrays you, responding to his movements with building pleasure.

Changbin just laughs, breathless and strained. "You love it," he counters, grinding particularly deep. "Love how desperate I get for you. How I can't control myself."

He's not wrong. There's something deeply flattering about being wanted this intensely, this constantly. About having a boyfriend who's so obsessed with you that even your laundry can get him off in a pinch.

"Gonna come again," he warns, his rhythm faltering slightly. "Fuck, I can't—can't stop—"

"Do it," you urge, your own pleasure mounting as his grinding becomes more erratic. "Fill me up again."

Your words send him over the edge, his cock pulsing inside you as he comes for the third time. The feeling of his release flooding your sensitive walls triggers your own orgasm, less intense than the first but longer, leaving you trembling beneath him.

Changbin collapses on top of you, his cock still buried inside you, his hips still making tiny, involuntary movements even as he fights to catch his breath.

"Thank you," he mumbles against your neck, pressing sloppy kisses to your skin. "Needed that so bad."

You stroke his hair, that is stuck on his forehead from the filth of the past hour. "I know you did, baby. Feel better now?"

He nods, then hesitates. "Maybe… maybe one more time? In a little bit?"

You can't help but laugh at his endless appetite. "What are you? A humping machine?"

Changbin lifts his head to look at you, his expression surprisingly earnest. "Only for you," he says. "Nothing else feels right. No one else feels right."

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten with unexpected emotion. Because as ridiculous as his humping habit is, as inconvenient as it can be, there's something undeniably special about being the sole focus of such intense desire.

"I love you," you tell him, meaning it despite everything. "Even if you're a horny little freak who can't keep his dick to himself for five minutes."

Changbin grins, unashamed. "Love you too," he says, already beginning to harden inside you again. "Now, about that one more time…"

As his hips start their familiar grinding rhythm, you resign yourself to another round, and probably several more after that. Because that's life with Changbin.

And honestly? You wouldn't have it any other way.

[inkdrinkerworld]

You wake up when a cramp in your abdomen gains a little too much force. At first you ignore it, then it happens again and you know, in your heart, that you’ve just started your period.

You groan, open your eyes and are about to stand when you remember you’re over at Peter’s.

You nibble on your fingers as you weigh your options: stay in bed and risk a bigger bleed or wake Peter up and be embarrassed that you’ve bled on his sheets.

In the end, Peter makes the decision for you when he reaches for you and finds you near the end of the bed.

“Angel?” He’s all groggy with sleep, hair standing in a few different directions as he props himself up on one palm.

“Pete,” you start, better to get it out now than to waste time. “I think I bled through. I didn’t know my period was coming, or well I did but it’s not due for two more days.”

Peter nods along, following the best his sleepy mind can. “Do you want me to check?” A yawn breaks through his words as he reaches over to flick on the lamp on his bedside.

“Isn’t that kinda gross?” Peter rolls his eyes now, stamping a kiss to your cheek.

“No, baby. Now, up.” You lift your hips and Peter takes a peek under you and it’s more intimate than it should be. “There’s only a little bit of it, wanna switch sides?”

You’re aghast at the suggestion. “I’m not letting you sleep in blood Peter!”

“Stop acting like you’ve bled out on the sheets baby. I don’t mind switching, I can wash it in the morning.”

You stand from the bed almost immediately at that and head to the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and come change the sheets.”

Peter shakes his head, “Make sure the water’s hot enough, still want you to sleep after this.” Peter stretches out of bed, immediately stripping the sheets. “Leave your shorts in the sink, I’ll put it in with the sheets.”

Peter really is an anomaly of a man. You’ve bled through his sheets and he wants to wash the blood out for you. He wants you to shower in hot water so you don’t stay up longer than you have to.

It nearly brings tears to your eyes.

“Don’t overthink it baby,” Peter says when he realizes you’ve stopped, frozen in place. “It’s not an issue. Now go shower, I wanna get ahead of the cramps too.”

Peter loads the washing machine, brings out new sheets; burnt orange ones, that smells like lilacs. He’s also got pyjamas out for you, and set your medicine and water on your bedside table.

By the time you come out, it’s like nothings happened and you’re only now getting ready for bed.

“I’m really sorry Pete.” You murmur as you slip into your new pyjamas. Peter rolls his eyes, and tugs you carefully into bed, right into his lap.

His hand falls into your hair, combs it back as he brings the glass to you. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he reaches for the pills too. “Take it baby,” he rubs your back slowly.

You lean your head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry I woke us up.”

Peter chuckles, you always get like this. Near weepy and almost constantly apologetic. “Angel,” you hide your face under his chin. “It’s all good. I’m gonna hold you all night and cuddle the shit out of you.”

You sniff. “Thanks for taking care of me Pete.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m always gonna take care of you.” Peter shuts off the lamp. “Close your eyes, pretty girl. Let’s try to get you some quality sleep before the red lady really sets in.”

You giggle, kissing under his neck as he slides you both down the bed. “I love you,”

Peter tips your chin up and kisses your lips. “I love you too, so much. Don’t ever think you’re gross for a little bit of blood. Next time, we can just switch sides.”

You scoff, “I’m never letting you sleep in my spot if I bleed through, Parker.”

He rolls his eyes, pulling the covers up over you both. “So you say, but I can just use my senses against you.”

You yawn, Peter’s hand tracing your back lulling you to the sweet spot between sleep and wakefulness. “Oh like you used them tonight?”

Peter’s hand pauses, flat and still on your back till you whine. “That’s so mean, I was asleep and I was having a very good dream.”

“Oh yeah?”

Peter nods, softening his voice as he notes the slur in your words. “Oh yeah, you were there, quite like this actually. Except you were playing with my hair, while I read you Pride and Prejudice,”

He’s only halfway through recounting his dream when he hears your first snore. Peter smiles to himself, kissing your forehead one last time before shutting his eyes.

[valictini]

@askoverkill Overkill au is kinda living rent free in my brain right now and my need to theorise is getting unmanageable hfjdj here's something I've been wanting to talk about, regarding the blacked out words on the Director's ref sheet

This is what I could decipher:

The first square I won't talk much about. We now know for sure that the Director is ISAT Siffrin and I'm not confident in my guess for the missing word. So not much can be really gleaned from it, since idk if I'm right.

NOW THE SECOND ONE: I am 100% sure those are the words!

"Powered by [...] dead Siffrins" You say...

Of course, the missing bit in the middle could give us more precise info on what exactly dead Siffrins provide that get the Director going (my bet is their body, with how many cannibalism allusions the Director's made) but yeah! This implies that dead Siffrins are the Director's fuel, in one way or another!

The Director HAS been calling Siffrin the meat for the meat grinder after all. Does this mean we can stop the meat grinder by simply not putting meat in it?

Is everyone around Siffrin right? Should they just stay behind and make sure they dont die near the Director? Is it that simple? Knowing that ISAT and SASASAP could have ended the loops by just talking with the party, I think it is possible.

What makes me doubt it a bit is that Loop gave this option immediately, kind of giving the vibe that they told that to other Siffrins before, and I want to believe that at least one of them (aside from ISAT ofc) already took up on their offer, and the loops didn't end... but for all we know, literally no one else did that ever again. Exactly like when Loop suggested to ISAT Sif to just talk to the others at the very beginning (the actual answer to all his problems) and Sif went nah and never thought about that option ever again.

What im saying is that we are not safe from another catastrophically self sacrificing Siffrin doing everything but the one thing that would save them (affectionate)

But even if it's the answer, and Dawn actually stayed behind for a loop, Dusk probably will always go into the labyrinth and get killed... so does that mean that he's providing a dead Siffrin, thus giving strength to the Director regardless? So many questions...

I have Other Thoughts, regarding Loop, Dusk, Lupus and the role of past Siffrins... But for now, I wanted to share that partial deciphering. Maybe I'll find the strength to work on the evil wordle that is the blacked out text under the Director eventually...

[misfxtteam]

Bucky can’t help his smile, seeing Tony happy like this about working on the new arm and getting to work with the Wakandans made it hard not to. He glances at his arm when Tony starts explaining the process, ignoring the lump in his throat at the process of going under. It all made sense as much as it could, he appreciated Tony using layman’s terms to explain it. He looks a little surprised, he hadn’t realized it was going to be removable, his arm had never been removable and he had never thought about it before. But it made sense, it would make all of the maintenance and upgrade work a lot easier just like Tony said. And even though he was worried, knowing that Tony was going to be there while he was under and would be part of the surgical team does a lot to set his mind at ease and he breathes easier after he mentions that.

He laughs a bit at the mention of the Met Gala, “Like I would ever be invited to that, isn’t that for celebrities?” he grins, leaning against the work table as Tony worked, “But yeah, you did answer a lot of the questions I have, and I do feel a bit better now. Thanks for explaining all that Tony, it helps to know that you’ll be there working on it too. Being at that hands of strangers, even though obviously they’re not bad people, is what was causing me the most anxiety probably. But you’ll be there so I feel a lot better about it,” he admits, and it’s clear that he’s much more relaxed after hearing all that. He watches Tony work for a minute, he really did love seeing the genius at work, before he can’t help but smirk, “Oh I have plenty of ideas for fun things we could do,” he teases, reaching for his book, “But I can just read while you work, would hate to mess up your work flow. I mean, my arm kinda depends on it right? So I should definitely not be distracting you.” he says innocently, flashing Tony a charming smile

He says this but also does not put his shirt back on, letting it stay bunched up on the table as he looks down at his book. Even as he starts reading or pretending to, the teasing smile barely fades.

“I should’ve come down before tonight. You did tell me I was always welcome, but it took a second to break out of my nightly habits to remember that this was an option. I’ve been watching movies to pass the time but I didn’t want to do that tonight,” he says with a weak smile. He was anxious but also looking forward to going for the first sessions with the therapist, hoping that it would help with all this fear he had especially regarding medical care and work on his shoulder. He feels a shiver travel down his spine, starting from where Tony’s fingers had caressed his aching shoulder. Just his touch was enough to soothe him it felt like, as ridiculous as it probably sounded.

He is quiet for a moment as Tony works, keeping his metal arm still and trying to make sure he kept his other hand to himself. The urge to just pull Tony against him was strong but he genuinely didn’t want to disrupt him from his work flow. But after hearing that they were already close to switching out the arm, he goes a little tense. He hadn’t realized it would be so soon, honestly he had expected it to take a few more weeks at least. He looks down for a second as he tries to process it but then looks up at Tony again, “They already..I mean you guys worked a lot faster than anticipated, I guess I should’ve paid more attention in those meetings,” he tries to chuckle but it’s half-hearted, clearly just trying to hide his anxiety.

“You mentioned the first time you worked on my arm that it would require surgery, that’s what your friend Helen would help with? Fixing my..my shoulder so that it can heal better with the new arm?” he asks, wanting to understand the process a little better. He figured that if he got rid of some of the ambiguity within his own mind about it, he would feel less worried about it.

[gay-dorito-dust]

More demon brained Vergil?? (The chokehold this man has on me. It's unimaginable.)

I will live and die by demon brained Vergil. Seriously this man has no clue what he’s doing when it comes to human flirting but demonic courting? This man is knowledgeable on all fronts.

Vergil bites and he scents you, his ‘mate’ or ‘partner’ for possessive and territorial purposes. This is well known enough for it to have been an inside joke, especially with how often you walked out of your shared room with almost painful bite marks upon your neck and shoulders, only to tell people that they were ‘love bites.’

but that was mainly stuff that many people got to see the aftermath and not what this man does behind closed doors.

He makes nests! Yes! Vergil makes a nest of your clothes when you leave for a mission if your a demon hunter or for work in general, he takes clothes that you had in your wardrobe and make a nest of them upon your shard bed with your pillow being the first piece to be added.

His demon side wanted to be closer to you and if he couldn’t do that with you literally, then he’d gladly use your clothes, more specifically clothes that you have worn beforehand and still held your scent and warmth, as a substitute and rub himself against them. Even going so far as to fall asleep in them becuase while he might not admit it, he did indeed miss you and will get huffy when your clothes stop smelling like you and loose your warmth.

Vergil is a clingy half demon, he knows this and doesn’t want to admit to it, but everything that you’ve ever lost place of or just thought was long gone was in this man’s possession instead. Anything that had your essence on was his by association, nobody else’s.

He’ll growl and his eyes will become even more icy blue when someone touches your stuff, getting it muddied with their ugly scent that smelt like acid to him, where as yours was sweet, unique and something that could put him at ease at a simple sniff.

Another well known one is that he purrs, growls and or chirps depending on what you were doing, it’s not like he’s actively doing it because this is all natural to him and his demonic heritage, if anything he found anything human too foreign for him since his long, long stay in hell. (I will literally never let anyone forget this fact)

So Vergil does this really unique noise just for you, it’s a noise he’s noticed that demons onto did towards their mates, something made only for them to find the other should they be at long distance from one another, letting them know that they were there and were okay. A meaning to being the two mates together and differentiate themselves from other demon mates nearby doing the same thing.

And so Vergil would make this noise, which was like a chirp and an almost howl like nose that only you would recognise and come looking for him, an act that itches his demon brain greatly, seriously if his demon tail was out it would be wagging happily at the attention of his mate recognising his sound and coming towards him.

His brain: ‘my mate is coming! They heard me! They recognise me! My mate! My beloved mate whom I’d kill and slaughter for! They’re here! Hi! Gimme kiss! Gimme kiss! Gimme my mate! MY MATE!’

Him: 😐 I’m glad you’re not hurt. Now let’s go.

Will show off his demon wings and spread them as far as they can go in order to impress you when he devil triggers, it’s adorable seeing this hulking blue demon stand before you, showing off his big ass wings in hopes of impressing you with the array of colours that went into them.

This is something he’d do pre-relationship kinda like a preening peacock but don’t be surprised when he does this when he’s your mate/partner, encouraging you to touch them and trace the patterns there.

Demon grooming! Again try imagining this blue demon combing his claws over you, preening/grooming you on the odd occasion now and then before silently asking for you to do the same for him, looking at you with those almost puppy dog like demon eyes of his.

Or just imagine Vergil straightening your clothes, making sure clothing was out of place, making sure your shoes were properly tied so you wouldn’t hurt yourself. This was his version of demon grooming outside his devil trigger by making sure you’re looking presentable before you leave the house. It’s cute watching him act so serious about removing that one stray fluff on your clothes to the point he growls in frustration, but it only him showing his care through his unique way.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 71

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Pearl's pov*

You made an habit of walking trough the gardens, the plants seems to be looking better then ever with you passing through so often and it is relaxing... somewhat.

You have also made an habit of meeting up with Gem here, with you visiting so often and her working here it was expected... And It's not the worst person to meet in the regular, different career choices aside, as much as you appreciate Scott and Cleo you don't think you could stay at your apartment with them all day long, not now. With Cleo currently away from the city that has become even more obvious.

In other news, you have started stealing the sea pickles Gem is trying so hard to transfer to the acquarium. As Scarlet you found it would be the easiest way to goad her hero persona into confronting you, it doesn't make sense (the news are having a field day trying to find what villanous plans you have that requires them) which will make her curious and It's personal to her enough that it might make her feel threatened.... Gem- or, well, Tay has been the first hero to ask you why you are a villain, she is different... And that's why you need her to be interested in you, if she's ready to listen to you then she might end up agreeing with you and if she does she might end up helping with getting rid of the corruption problem...and, well, you don't plan on telling Grian this but you can admit it is pretty fun too.

...

Sigh

...

Of course simply thinking of Grian reminds of a relatively new problem: he has started following you.

You were at the park when you noticed him.

You don't know why he's doing this, you don't know what he thinks he's doing, you aren't sure if he believes he's being sneaky or if he already knows you are aware that he's there.

You didn't call him out at first because Gem would be unsettled and or angered by the strange man following you but it's frankly getting embarassing.

It's not even the fact that he's chaos itself and that you can feel his presence clearly from behind you, even though that is important too... It's just... he's really really bad at... whatever he's trying to do.

You almost let out a disappointed "mate" escape the second time you see him. He tried to hide behind a pole. A POLE. You don't believe in Cringe culture but this...this is definitely cringe.

"Grian. Mate. What the hell are you up to?".

"Oh no Grians here, just a pole making...pole noises. Yes."

.

.

.

What???

"I can see you..?"

"You can't"

He goes invisible, you have to wonder why he didn't do that from the beginning.

"You know mate, You should have probably done that before I called you out."

"Yeah but that takes out all the fun... I mean, pole pole pole pole pole-."

"What in the world are you doing?"

"Pole noises."

"Poles are silent, they don't say the world pole again and again, they are not pokemon"

"What's a pokemon?"

"Not the point m-... Hmm...Actually I should probably show you later, the number of things you don't know about human culture is still-... You are trying to distract me aren't you? This whole pole thing was never meant to work."

"What? Me? No no no ..."

"You might be an idiot but you are also a god, you know what a pole is...I think... Hopefully...if not I really worry about the fate of the world."

He returns to being visible.

"Ok, fiiine. I just had a question."

"Ok?"

...

...

Is he not going to ask?...Is he waiting for you to ask? Why?

"What is the question Grian?"

"What did you do to Scott?"

... What???

"What did I do? What are you talking about?"

"Was I not clear enough? Let me try to be more clear"

He turns invisible, again. That was really bad but you do snort.

"Ok ok, you got a pun in, good job... now actually tell me what you are talking about. And turn back visible"

He does.

"The uh... So, Scott, realized Sheriff was his ex and then kinda forgot? Or magically changed his mind. I know you have something to do with it."

...Oh, It's that. You expected him to find out eventually, it took him a surprisingly short time though. It's fine, you can explain now.

You look around.

"It's a long story so follow me, this isn't the best place for this"

[karikitdemonrp]

Kari slowly relaxed as Inuyasha spoke, his hand on her head giving that slight pressure helping ground her a bit. She sighed softly after a moment. "I... I wish I knew his name. I only ever knew him as Gramps or other similar nicknames." She muttered softly. "He... He was kind and he really did care." She muttered softly after a moment. "I'd probably be dead if it weren't for him. But aside for that he still did a lot for me."

The child looked up at Inuyasha, seeing his expression shift and listening to his words. How he couldn't promise anything about tomorrow but that he could promise he would be here in the present. That he would be with her as much as possible. That she wouldn't be alone if he wasn't there and that she would have someone. Not only that but Inuyasha promising that he wouldn't tell anyone about what she said was refreshing too.

Her body relaxed again as she let the half demon's words settle in the silence. Then Inuyasha spoke again with his playful threat, ruffling her hair. It made Kari snort, only to start laughing a bit. It was a childish laugh, genuine and pure. One that many would consider contagious even. "Maybe I will be annoying just to get on your nerves and see if you actually will!" Kari managed, still laughing at the thought of Inuyasha carrying her like that.

It didn't take long for Kari to calm down, taking a deep breath while letting a few lingering giggles out. "... I... Thank you..." She managed to say after collecting herself. "Things are really confusing and kinda scary but it's nice not being alone. Somethings are hard to... open up about but I'm trying to get there. It's weird, cuz I wanna talk about some stuff but I also don't. I guess I'm... I dunno, but my body won't let me talk about some stuff, it's weird to explain." She muttered, trying to think but didn't dwell on it. "I should wash my hair to night, I don't wanna have mud in it when I go to bed. That was a pretty stupid idea." She huffed, trying to get as much remaining mud out of her hair as she could. "Blegh, now it's starting to dry and-- ugh what was I thinking. Cant dye your hair with mud cuz it'll dry into dirt and just fall off."

Inuyasha blinked slowly, watching Kari with an expression somewhere between patient and deeply thoughtful, the kind he didn’t often show unless something really hit him in the gut. He didn’t interrupt once—not when she called herself not smart, not when she started talking about the old man, and especially not when her voice got small and that faraway look crept into her eyes. He just stayed still, listening.

Only when she started to panic did he finally move.

“Oi—hey, hey, calm down, squirt.” He gently reached out and placed his hand on top of her head again, this time with a little more pressure. Not rough, but grounding. “You didn’t say anything wrong. And I ain’t gonna tell a soul. Promise.”

He could feel the shift in her aura—like something inside her was starting to spin up. He recognized that wild, shaky energy well. It was like his own, back when his heart would start racing and he didn’t know if he needed to fight or run or hide. So he knelt down a bit, leveling their gazes, voice lowering to that rare gentle grumble he only ever used when things really mattered.

“Let it out, it’s okay. You're not too much. Not for me.”

He gave her one small, reassuring shake of his head.

“You know… that old man? Sounds like he was a good one. Bet he cared about you a hell of a lot. I can tell, just from how you talk about him.” His voice faltered for a second, just for a second, but then he pushed on, his grip tightening slightly. “I know what it’s like, losin’ someone like that. Someone who actually gives a damn. Makes it hard to open back up again… You think, if you let anyone else in, they’re just gonna disappear too.”

He sighed. “Kari… I can’t promise nothin’ about tomorrow. I’d be a damn liar if I said bad things don’t happen. But what I can promise is this: I’m here right now. I ain’t leavin’. And if something ever did happen, you wouldn’t be alone again. Kagome, Shippo… hell, even Miroku and Sango—everyone would look out for you. We’re not gonna vanish just ‘cause things get hard.”

He let a silence hang for a second before adding, a little softer, “It’s okay to be scared. Means what you’re feeling is real. But don’t let that fear stop you from having good things again.”

Then, with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he ruffled her hair again. “Besides, if you do get too annoying, I’ll just toss you over my shoulder and carry you around upside-down until you shut up.”

[perseephoneee]

you always did like clint eastwood [kol mikaelson x f!reader]

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange information ↳ taglist

synopsis: you and kol get stuck in 1800's western america

cw: era typical violence, surface level wild west research

authors note: this fic is for my friend (who wishes to remain anonymous) as a delayed birthday gift hehe. love you darling.

Understanding Kol Mikaelson was like a rainbow; sometimes it happened, but rarely ever. And when you really saw him, you found a sort of beauty people would never see. Today was not a rainbow day. Today was actually a really, really bad day. 

You're tired of being the Mikaelson's go-to witch. All it does is ruin your day and cause you too many bumps and bruises. And then there's Kol…Kol, who enjoys teasing you but will never let you get close enough to see what's going on beneath. It makes it hard to trust him. But you really need to trust him, especially right now. Because the latest spell in Klaus' hair-brained schemes has caused both you and Kol to end up in 1800s western America. Right in cowboy country. 

You really could kill him. 

If he hadn't distracted you, this portal spell wouldn't have sent you here. Instead, it would've brought something useful to you. But now you're stuck in an era where they really hate women, and they really hate witches. 

"I'm going to kill you," you hiss out. You're blinking back at the sun shining high above you. You're standing under the entrance of 'Willowbrooks'– a western town from Kol's understanding. The dust swirls around your feet and gets in your throat, not helping your sour mood. It didn't help that the name sounded familiar; you were trying to think about why.

"It could be worse," Kol laughed. He put a hand over his eyes as he observed a vulture flying overhead. "I never had the chance to be a proper cowboy."

"Probably for the best. You'd be a nightmare."

"I take offense to that," Kol smirked. "C'mon."

"To where?"

"This sign might be here, but that town is still a while away. We should get there before nightfall," Kol started walking without you, and you groaned as you ran to keep up. He would occasionally whistle, which would only aggravate your mood. Sometimes, he shared a joke that would make you wish for a quick death from wherever you were heading. Your walk took the rest of the day into the evening until you eventually entered an old western town. You both stuck out like sore thumbs. Kol, ever the lover of breaking the rules, immediately went toward a clothesline at the back of a building. He tossed you some articles of clothing haphazardly, with you barely catching them. 

"What are you doing?" you whisper, afraid to raise your voice. Kol starts undressing before you, and you quickly avert your gaze. 

"Blending in," he replies. You catch a glance at his body, abdomen toned in a way that wasn't entirely fair. Your cheeks burn as you look away. Standing around waiting for him to be done seemed foolish, so you find another place to hide as you quickly dress. The clothes didn't exactly fit, but you made it work. It was just a simple blue blouse with a long tiered skirt. You kept your combat boots, hoping that no one would notice. You didn't want to worry about locating your shoe size as well. By the time you went back to Kol, he was also clothed. Between the dark blue tunic and the black vest, he looked like the kinda devilish character that you'd want to avoid in one of these old Western movies. But to you, he was the safest thing around. 

"If anyone asks, darling," he gives you a look. "You're my wife, and we're visiting on our way to see family."

"If I'm your wife, don't expect me to be too nice about it," you smile. He just grins, fangs flashing. 

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Going to a saloon seemed stupid and cliche, but the only inn in Willowbrooks happened to be a saloon. You followed behind Kol, and despite his cavalier attitude about your adventure, he kept close to you and seemed to be observing everything that moved. He didn't feel safe here either. 

Unlike the movies, the saloon didn't come to a grinding halt when you both entered. A few stares were thrown your way, but fortunately, it wasn't as dramatic. You forgot that Kol lived in this time, which you guess was helpful because you probably would've gotten yourself killed if you were alone. He sidled up to the bar with no problem and requested a room, slipping into a western drawl that you didn't realize he had in him. You tried to observe your surroundings without being suspicious. Above the bar, a piece of paper advertised the special as a drink called "coffin varnish," which sounded as appetizing as one could imagine. The smell of the establishment left a lot to be desired and made you miss the glory of modern plumbing. But the thing that caught your eye was the glittering sheriff badge on a man sitting at the other end of the counter. He was in hushed conversation with another, maybe a deputy or just a friend, but you still managed to overhear some of it. 

"That damn Foley coven is getting on my nerves," the sheriff sighed, taking a swig of dark liquid. "Especially Elizabeth. It's bad for business."

"Lincoln already freed the damn slaves; what else do they want from us?" the other man shook his head, looking at his cup. 

"Easy. They want our heads," the sheriff chuckled, but it was an empty laugh of a tired man. 

"Whatcha going to do?"

"What I always do," the sheriff finished off his drink. "Take care of it."

You jolted as Kol wrapped an arm around your waist, distracting you from your eavesdropping. He raised a brow but didn't say anything, and you gave him a look that you'd tell him later. He took the hint and nodded towards the stairs that led to the rooms, with you following behind. The floor creaked beneath your feet as you ascended to your room, a tiny thing at the end of the hall with a washroom across from it. You sighed as you saw the one bed, but didn't have the mental capacity to deal with it. 

"This must be like one of your romance novels," Kol snorts as he takes in your tiny room. You sat down at the edge, undoing your shoes and ignoring him. "What, no witty comeback?"

"What if we're here for a reason?" you question, the thought circling your brain since leaving the bar. 

"What reason, this was a spell gone wrong," Kol leaned against the wall, looking at you inquisitively. 

"The sheriff down there wants to take out a coven of witches in the area, the Foley coven," you sat forward, hands on your knees. "I thought the name of this town sounded familiar, and now I remember why. The Foleys wanted to free the rest of the slaves on the western frontier, in addition to giving women more opportunities to work. But the town of Willowbrooks didn't want that. They ended up burning the head of the coven and set the two parties into a civil war. No one knew what happened to the Foley witches, and even today, if you visit the town, it's a ghost town. Literally."

"And this concerns us…?" 

"What if we're here to stop the fight from happening, to save a witch?" you looked at him, hope and fury in your eyes. "What if that's how we get home? By righting a past wrong?"

"You read too many stories," Kol sighed, running a hand over his face. 

"I don't know if we can save the witch that burns, maybe we aren't meant to. But I can't shake the feeling that we're here for a reason, and my witch's sense hasn't led me wrong yet." Kol continues to look at you with hesitation and tiredness. As you know, it wasn't in his nature to help. You were going to make him do it anyway. "Please?"

The internal battle waging war in Kol's mind made his eyes cloudy as he thought about what you said. He swore under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. 

"We can…talk to the witches tomorrow," Kol said. "But we might not be able to change anything. Okay, darling?"

"Okay," you smiled, without malice for once since landing in this shitty town. "And Kol?" He looked at you. "Don't get handsy in the bed, or I'll cut them off." 

He grinned. 

~

Kol didn't touch you during the night, although he snored, which was fairly annoying. You woke up to the sight of him curled into a tight ball on the other side as if he was stopping himself from intruding on your personal space. It was the most respectful thing you've ever seen him do. 

By the time he woke, you had gotten dressed in some clothes you had stolen from another room (sorry, unsuspecting patron) and used the wash basin across the hall. You still felt dirty, and the heat from outside wasn't helpful, but it was better than nothing. You wish you could have a toothbrush, though. You also ventured downstairs to the main saloon. You tried to be inconspicuous when asking where the closest food place was. Fortunately, they had a kitchen right in the establishment, and you were able to eat some eggs, beef, and beans. You even had coffee, even if it tasted like dirt water. You debated saving something for Kol but remembered he wouldn't want any. 

You came back up the stairs to him, still lounging in bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Planning to stay here all day?" you inquired, leaning against the doorframe. He smiled at you, not as flirtatious as usual. "What's wrong?" you narrowed your eyes. Kol wasn't usually this silent. 

"It's…strange," he shrugged as best he could while lying down. 

"Strange?"

"Being in the past," Kol sat up a little bit. He had taken the vest off before bed, and the blue shirt underneath was crumpled with sleep. "I've forgotten so much of it."

You take pause at that statement. "Do you remember much of your life?"

"Bits and pieces, like anyone looking back on childhood, I suppose," Kol played with the bedsheets between his fingers. "I… don't think I was very nice during this era."

He sounds so sad about it, and the feeling leaves an uncomfortable ache in your chest. Was it regret in his voice? Or just commentary about who he was. Sometimes, you couldn't understand whether Kol was warning you away from him or explaining his actions. His statement also came with the startling realization that of the Mikaelsons, he was the one you feared the least. Strange considering his reputation, but it was knowledge you tucked deep inside for later. 

"I think you're nice," you shrugged. Kol looked at you with barely veiled surprise. "I mean, you kept to yourself while we were sleeping. That was pretty nice."

Kol grinned at that, and it made you smile. There was the devilish vampire you remember. 

You departed quickly after that, making your way to the outskirts of town. Relying on your own sixth sense, you allowed yourself to be drawn to the magic farther past the confines of Willowbrooks. Kol made up for his somber morning mood by singing 'Cotton-Eyed Joe.' It was the first time on the trip you wished for a white oak stake so you could stab him. 

You stopped atop a hill and narrowed your eyes at a dilapidated building below. 

"That's where the witches are," you pointed. Kol put his hands on his hips. 

"Well, darling," he sighed. "Let's meet your brethren."

You walked up to the building, the sun beating against you. You felt sweat beading on your forehead, rolling down your cheeks and not helping your already disgusting appearance. When you approached the door, you did what any sensible person would do– you knocked. 

"Very polite," Kol murmured. 

"Shut up."

The door opened, but no one stood behind it. You cautiously entered, taking in the darkness. You gasped as all at once, hundreds of candles flickered to life. A small group of women huddled in the corner, their faces illuminated by the flames. The one closest to the door, an older woman with braided long white hair and eyes the color of storms, stepped forward

"We've been expecting you," she smiled. 

~

The woman was revealed to be Elizabeth Foley, the one the sheriff (who you learned to be named Sheriff Dunn) had complained about the day before. Apparently, one of the witches foretold the two of you showing up that day. You should really be less surprised. 

"There has to be a way to stop this before too many innocent lives are lost," you said, sitting at a wooden table with Elizabeth. She ground a mix of herbs with a mortar and pestle. 

"Innocent lives will always be lost as long as men are involved," Elizabeth said, glancing at Kol. He stood by the wall, watching the other witches work around him. He seemed uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry for bringing a vampire into your home," you apologized. Elizabeth grabbed your hand, squeezing lightly. 

"I do not fear him, neither should you."

You didn't know how to respond to that. 

"I will go into the town tomorrow and talk with the Sheriff," Elizabeth returned to grinding her herbs. 

"He'll kill you."

"Perhaps," Elizabeth shrugged. You found her to be rather calm despite the circumstances. "But this town isn't lost yet. Perhaps it will take someone like you and your friend to convince them of that."

You went back to the inn by nightfall, finding yourself staring up at the ceiling instead of Kol this time. Maybe you both had issues with dissociating. Kol flopped on the bed next to you a second later. 

"What do you think she meant by 'convincing the town?'" you turned to look at him. His hands were tucked behind his head, causing his shirt to slide up a bit. You ignored the sight. 

"Get them to stop the sheriff? Who knows" Kol quirked a brow. 

"But it might not stop a witch from dying."

Kol had nothing to say to that, and you didn't expect him to. You chewed your lip in thought. Eventually, you turned on your side to face him. 

"Thank you," you murmured. He glanced at you.

"For what?"

"For helping me."

"I just want to get home," Kol snorted.

"I don't believe that," you replied, shaking your head. Kol looked at you, warmth in his otherwise dark gaze. 

"You always see the best in people, don't you?"

"I have to," you glanced away. "Otherwise, no one else will."

Kol turned to face you, brows furrowed in thought. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair that had fallen across your face, tucking it delicately behind your ear. The warmth from his fingers made you close your eyes. His hand went to your neck, grazing the collarbone before dancing over your shoulder. You tried to keep your breathing even as he lightly touched you.

"Do you see any good in me?" he whispered as if afraid to ask the question. You opened your eyes, looking at the furrow of his brow to heavy lashes as he refused to make eye contact. 

"I do," you hummed. "When you let me."

That seemed to settle something within Kol, who leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. It was barely anything, but you leaned into it, and that was enough to let him get rid of his reservations. His hand cupped your face, disrupting the hair he had been so gentle to tuck away. Your hand went to his waist, feeling the skin you had pretended not to eye earlier. You let out a gasp as his teeth nipped your lower lip, deepening what was already becoming something you knew you wouldn't want to run away from. Kissing Kol felt like a slow fire burning within you, growing in size until the only thing you could feel was his touch and his tongue on your body. His lips traveled along your jaw, kissing the delicate skin of your neck. Your mouth parted as blunt fangs dragged along the skin, nipping at your collarbone. You wished he would leave a mark. 

Kol couldn't stay away from your lips for long and returned to them with a fervor that insinuated that he'd been waiting to do this for some time. You let yourself be pulled on top of him as he rolled onto his back, his lips never leaving yours. You parted to breathe, nose nudging his and safety flooding your body as his arms wrapped securely around you. 

"Kol," you whispered. He hummed thoughtfully. Your hands brushed through his hair. "I've always seen you."

He grinned, kissing your cheek. "I know, darling. I know."

~

Unlike the night before, you let Kol hold you that night. You woke in warmth and a sense of belonging you'd been hoping for for a while. You didn't know what to expect today about the town of Willowbrooks, but you knew you wouldn't be alone through its trials. 

When you stepped outside, the town was already waiting with bated breath. Elizabeth stood facing down Sheriff Dunn, her skirt billowing around her ankles and her gaze steely. Sheriff Dunn glared. 

"Let this go, William," Elizabeth said. She seemed unhurried in her approach. "This town has suffered enough."

"Suffered because of creatures like you."

"No," she smiled, a faint thing. "Because of people like you."

The town shuffled uncomfortably on their feet, unsure what to do. You and Kol circled closer. 

"Elizabeth Foley, I charge you with crimes of disrupting the peace, and punishment must be served," Dunn announced, reverberating across the desert. Elizabeth didn't look shocked by this at all. You watched as Dunn removed his belt, wrapping it around his hands. Elizabeth got down on her knees, and you started forward. Kol grabbed your arm, yanking you back. 

"What are you doing?" you hissed, his grip a vice.

"You can't stop this, not by running forward."

"She's going to be tortured."

"It'll be worse if you intervene," Kol looked around at the people around you. You looked as well and took in the faces of horror and fear flickering across everyone's expressions. A half-baked idea started to form in your head just as the first whip sounded. Elizabeth didn't scream, even as the blood started to show on her shirt. Not even as Sheriff Dunn hit a second and third time. You watched the townspeople flinch, people of different backgrounds and colors watching with a tension that only came with disagreement. You wrenched your arm out of Kol's grip and approached the citizens. 

"Are you really going to stand by and watch as this man continues to hold your freedom hostage?" you exclaimed, voice loud. People looked at you in shock, Kol included. "When this woman is fighting for all men and women, regardless of circumstance, to have the same rights as the white man?"

"She is ready to take the belt if it means protecting people like you, people who never protected her," Kol yelled, joining you in your protest. He sent you a wink as he faced the other side of the town. 

"You have the power to do something! You have the power to put your foot down!" You walked closer, making a point to look at each person individually. You saw a few nods, and you let your voice get louder. Each exclamation between you and Kol drowned out the held-in whimpers of Elizabeth and the sound of the cracking skin. You watched the light ignite within more and more people and, for once, started feeling actual hope. 

It wasn't until Elizabeth was a heap on the ground, barely holding herself up, that the sound of a rifle being cocked reverberated throughout the courtyard. One of the men was aiming at the sheriff, who looked at him in shock. 

"That's enough, William. Let her go."

"Let us go," another man said, his own belt off and wrapped in his hands. More people kept joining in, saying similar sentiments. Sheriff Dunn hissed, stepping away from the approaching mob. He reached for his own gun, but the sound of several others being pointed his way was enough to set him running instead. As dozens of townspeople chased after him, you watched in satisfaction as metaphorical pitchforks arose. You spent only a second in that feeling before rushing towards Elizabeth. You slumped on the ground, pulling her into your arms. 

"Elizabeth," you gasped, your hands covered in the blood seeping through her clothes. She looked up at you with dazed eyes, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. 

"You did it, sweet girl."

"I-I didn't do anything," you stammered. 

"You brought hope," she coughed. "The most precious gift of them all."

Kol ran up next to you, biting into his wrist as he skidded to a stop next to Elizabeth.

"Drink," he demanded. "Let us help you."

"I don't need your blood, Mikaelson," she chuckled. You don't remember telling her his name. "My coven can heal me just fine. It's time for you two to go."

"Go? How?" you inquired, looking at Kol. He shrugged. 

"Take care of her," Elizabeth said to Kol, nodding. 

You couldn't get another word in as you felt your body dissipate into sparkling atoms. By the time you re-materialized, you were back in the Mikaelson compound. Rebekah startled from her place on the couch, glancing at the two of you, hand-in-hand on the ground. She took in both of your outfits and snorted. 

"Well, Kol," she drawled. "You always did like Clint Eastwood."

[tessenpai]

Kono Oto Tomare Chapter 142 Scans and Rough TL

Disclaimer: Please DO NOT use this translation to make your own TL of the chapter!! The KOT TL group works very hard to give you the most accurate translation, that does as much justice to the original script as possible. This is a ROUGH translation. That means is faulty and there must be mistakes in certain places. This is just for impatient people like myself to get a grasp on what is going on in the chapter! You can REFERENCE my TL if you want to discuss the chapter but never USE it as it was your own.

Scans: Kono Oto Tomare! Chapter 142 – Rawkuma

Page 1 Event assistant: We'll collect the evaluation sheets here once for score tabulation.

Side text: As the lingering emotions remain…

Judge: I believe we just...

Judge: heard something truly incredible...

Judge Kurokawa: Certainly...

Judge Agata: ....

Judge Tatsumi: ---I

Page 2

Judge Tatsumi: This is the first time I’ve ever not wanted to rank them.

Judges: We feel the same.

Page 3

Kota: Haaah, all the performances are over now.

Sane: It feels like it all went by in a flash.

Mittsu: Damn... I feel kinda sad now...

Sane: Don't say it...

Hiro: There’s about an hour and a half until they announce the results, if I remember correctly.

Sane: Seriously!?

Chika: So, what do we do 'till then?

Sane: Wanna hit up some tourist spots nearby?

Takezou: No, there's a social event next...

Chika: Social event?

Satowa: You guys really don’t know anything, do you…

Mashiro-senpai: Takezou!!

Page 4

Takezou: Senpai!?

Mashiro: Congrats on the performance!!

Senpai 2: It was the absolute best--!!

Takezou: Eh- Why...?

Takezou: Wai- Wha-? You all came to hear!?

Mashiro-senpai: Of course we did!!

Page 5

Kota: Mashiron-senpai---!

Sane: Long time no see!

Hiro: Then… does that mean the others are also—?

Takezou: Ah, yes! They are my senpais!

Takezou: Guys, these are the Tokise Koto Club OGs!

Sane: Uoooh for real?

Chika: Hello!

Senpai 3: Waah, you're making me blush. Hello there--!

Senpai 1: You guys were amazing!

Senpai 2: Yeah, I was bawling my eyes out!

Senpai 3: I was so moved---

Page 6

Senpai 2: And you, Takezou--- you’re so strong and mature now~~

Senpai 3: You've grown way too much since the last time we saw you---!

Takezou: Ah- Wai-

Senpai 2: I honestly could've never imagined it… That the Tokise Koto Club would give such an amazing performance on the national stage.

Senpai 2 & 3: We didn’t even have the slightest clue that Suzuka-chan had a talent for composing.

Kota: Ooooh, Suzu-chan looks like he is feeling awkward.

Mittsu: What a rare sight...

Suzuka: I'll smack you.

Page 7

Mashiro: Takezou

Mashiro: And everyone else, too

Mashiro: I truly thank you,

Mashiro: For taking the Tokise Koto Club with you to such an amazing place.

Page 8

Mashiro [memory]: Takezou!

Sign: Aiming for Nationals!!

Takezou: It's because of you Senpais...

Takezou: Because this is what you senpais passed on to us.

Page 9

Senpai 3: Come ooon, stop making me cry

Senpai 2: You've grown, kouhai--!

Page 10

Tweet: Tomo "I'm a member of a koto club. I don't want people like this to play. I don't want to be near them. They're a nuisance."

Audience stalker guy: Maaan, Tokise was amazing--!

Audience stalker guy 2: Who would've though I could be this moved by a koto performance!

Audience stalker guy: Dude, you were crying.

Audience stalker guy 2: You're one to talk, your nose was all runny and all.

Page 11

Audience stalker guy 2: Still, what was that whole scandal even about in the end?

Audience stalker guy: Who knows? I mean, people forget stuff like that pretty fast, right?

Audience stalker guy 2: True.

Tomoe [thoughts]: They forget pretty fast

Tweets/Comments:

"People like them are trash to society. The world’s better off without them."

"Idiots like that should just disappear already."

"Ban them from participation"

Satowa [memory]: You haven't done anything that warrants an apology, have you?

Page 12

QRT of previous Tweet:

"I heard Tokise’s performance at the High School National Cultural Festival today.

It was

Page 13

QRT of Tweet (cont):

"It was a very sincere and earnest performance.

It was the

It was the sound of countless hours of practice

I don't know if that video was real or fake

I don't know that, but

Surely

Surely

There is no lie in that sound."

Page 14

QRT of Tweet (cont):

"I acted like I understood everything just from a single video…

I'm ashamed that I joined in on the hate and slander

I'm taking back the comment I made quoting it.

I'm sorry."

Page 15

Tomoe's friend: Tomoe!

Tomoe's friend: What are ya doin' here? Everyone's lookin' for y--

Tomoe: Eh? Ah... Sorry.

Page 16

Tomoe's friend: What a nice day...

Tomoe's friend: The world our eyes have seen is still very small

Page 17

Tomoe: Yeah...

Isaki: Huuuh---? Where are Chika and the rest--?

Tetsuki: They stand out so much, you'd think we would find them right away...

Tetsuki: Ah, there they are.

Isaki: !

Isaki: Brother, could you hold my things for a bit?

Chika's father: Eh?

Isaki: So you can't run away with them.

Chika's father: ....

Page 18

Takezou: We should head back to our seats soon.

Chika: Okay---...

Isaki: Chiiika!!!

Isaki: Great job on the performance!!!

Chika: Isaki!!

Kota: Isaki-san---

Isaki: You guys, too. Good job, good job---!

Isaki: Man-- It was so good I cried myself dry.

Sane: Thanks!

Isaki: Over there.

Page 19

Isaki: Also, Chika...

Page 20

*No text*

Page 21

Chika: -----

Page 22

Chika's father: Holding a purse and CHIKA Cheering fan

Chika: Pwah-

Page 23

Chika: Ha... Um... Wha....

Chika's dad: ???

Chika: What's with that fan...

Chika's dad: Ah-

Chika's dad: Th- that's not it, this is---

Chika: Ha--- So weird---

Page 24

Chika: It doesn't suit you

Chika [memory]: Dad!

Chika's dad[memory]: Aaah... That's right.

Page 25

Chika's dad: ---...So you can laugh like that...

Gen: So you could laugh like that...

Page 26

Chika: Gramps said exactly the same thing.

Page 27

Chika's dad: ...I'm glad I came to hear your performance...

Page 28

Isaki [memory]: You see, after you guys finnished your performance, my brother was the very last one to stop applauding you.

Page 29

Isaki: Uzuki, your fan was incredibly useful in the end!

Uzuki: Eh?

Isaki: It brought out Chika's smile, didn't it?

Isaki: That's all thanks to your support.

Isami [memory]: It brought out Chika's smile

Page 30

*No text*

Page 31

Isaki: You're gonna burst into tears now---!!? Hahaha good for you!!

Isaki: This is good, all good

Chika: This is amazing

Page 32

Sane: ...Looks like he's fine

Takezou: Yeah.

Page 33

Sign: Judges room

Page 34

Contest official: The total scores from all the judges have been calculated!!

Contest official: Here they are.

Judge Tatsumi: !!

Page 35

Contest Official: …… Please discuss the final ranking based on the total score you see there

Page 36

Judge Tatsumi: Haha... Sigh... This has...

Judge Tatsumi: Turned out to be quite a bit of a situation.

Side text: A storm brews behind the announcement...

---Kono Oto Tomare will continue in the next issue!---

[alien-ally]

Now, idk how but here goes a few things that were dragged out of me, as i witness the split opinions on heesu in class 2. let me start out by saying: i'm a fan of the show :) and i know next to nothing about the manhwa. just so it's clear from the get go.

i haven't watched kdramas in a long while, so i suppose i'd been in the bl bubble exclusively for that entire time. i dont prefer kdramas, or uh straight romances very much personally. hence while watching the first couple eps of heesu, i had pretty much the same reaction. annoyance, disappointment, what more, my interest dropped steadily for a bit until i decided i would drop the show entirely if it dint focus more on the queer storyline, essentially our mc's plot more, in the following episodes. I got on tumblr like i usually do whenever i'm watching one of my bls, and boom, instantly more perspective unlocked. 'thematic foil' the phrase that stuck with me the most. a set of characters in a story getting focus and being followed along their journey apart from the mc, to serve as a foil that demonstrates what exactly the mc could be having, or how it usually goes for the majority of people, a majority our mc clearly isn't a part of. Several characters going about crushes in their own ways, what i enjoyed the most is how the show doesn't subtly pin any of them as 'right' or 'wrong', something i was worried they'd do. Heesu is always supportive of his sisters, no matter what errand he's in the middle of running, he always makes sure they're fine first before heading out. and most importantly, the best advice received by one of the sisters, was in fact not given by the mc but by another sister itself, heejeong to heejae. which i thought was really cool.

Admittedly, i wasn't a fan of the sisters in the beginning, but i guess that's just more on my own cynicism towards dating trends in general. as time passed though, they grew on me significantly. i mean, there's a charming sort of integrity to each sister's ways you can't ignore. another thing: the complaints about no kissing. i hardly ever find this argument to be nuanced, probably the most irritating reason people put out to dismiss an entire show as 'bad'. we see the formation of 2 straight high school couples, along with the boys, now had they been shown kissing or even toeing the lines of any other kind of physical intimacy other than holding hands or hugging, i would've extended that expectation to heesu and seungwon. but here, these kids just are not doing that yet. is that such a hard pill to swallow? bruh, it doesn't become straight washing cause the gay couple dint kiss or cause the straight couple got equal (note: equal) screen time. heesu is not a bl, sure. But it IS a queer kdrama. with a QUEER mc and his QUEER pining classmate (soon to be boyfriend) who has TWO moms. the third thing isn't focused on a lot but man i loved that scene in the last episode where seungwon's mom asks how much she should disclose at the meeting. and his reply, 'if you start lying, i'll have to continue it'.

Now. the last scene, which the non-fans seem to hate the most. but in fact the scene i loved the most. heesu looks back at chanyoung and jiyu walking close behind them, watches cy put his arm around jy with something like yearning flickering in his eye, he turns around, blinks it away and goes back to smiling. seungwon notices, puts his arm around heesu and when heesu kinda hesitates, asks him not to worry (about getting outed basically) cause people are just gonna assume they're close friends or some shit. like all throughout history, this has been used to erase queer people and their relationships. why not use it to your own advantage now? my favorite thing about his dailogue tho, is that it's meant to be reassuring. Seungwon is reassuring Heesu that he's proud about their relationship and wouldn't mind making it public. that he's fine with people finding out. how great is that to hear, when you've been shouldering all this turmoil alone for years, like how Heesu has been doing? Wonderful scene. episode 8,9 and 10 were my favorites and i would totally recommend this show to anyone looking for a wholesome little QUEER teen kdrama experience.

[eyeslikemirrors]

They mention their 5k, but it very quickly becomes clear what's happening. Heart sinking, Arden watches as Teagan tries to push back the wave of emotions after thinking about the accident. She shakes her head at the apology, “no, it's okay.” It's soft, quiet, trying to offer some sympathy or reassurance while still assessing the situation, offering Teagan some space. And she tries to push through, so they play along, trying to ignore the strain in her voice and the tremor in her hands.

“Okay, noted,” she replies to the comment about the tattoo, giving Teags a small, wry smile. “I've got another on my thigh. Tends to poke out a bit if I'm wearing shorts, so I'm sure you'll get a peek in a few months.” She offers the information with some uncertainty. She wants to give Teagan the option of continuing on with a silly conversation, but doesn't know if she should say more than that.

She likes Teagan. Obviously they hadn't been close when they were younger, but they'd shared space, and Efa used to talk about her siblings often– Teagan especially. And, from this short interaction, Arden feels like she's the kind of person they could be good friends with. She seems bright and kind and playful, even in the face of such grief. Seeing her trying to hold herself together, it makes the cracks inside of them pulse and ache.

Efa had wanted to go to college. They'd all talked about what it would be like if they got into the same school, left town together. But she remembered Efa's uncertainty, how she had ultimately decided to stay home and help on the farm. It was nice to hear she'd taken some classes. “I mean, it's nice to hear we made it look easy, but I remember a lot of it being stressful; science always gave me trouble, much to the chagrin of my mother.” It's more life rafts, attempts to lighten the mood. “But, you know, I can always try to help with stuff if you do decide to go that route.”

When Teagan apologizes this time, Arden doubles down. “It's really okay, you don't have to apologize. You're dealing with a lot, and grief–” she lets out something between a laugh and a sigh, “it– it fucking sucks. I mean, I think you were there with my dad; I dunno if you really remember it, but I was a mess for a while.” She's still a mess now, but that wasn't the point. “It was part of why I left town.”

“All that to say, you know, I kinda get it, and it's okay, and I'm here if you ever need someone to emote at,” they chuckle. “Or go for a run with… or just talk to.”

“Oh,” she exclaims, holding a finger up. “Don't really get a ton of use out of these anymore, but…” She reaches into her pocket and produces her wallet, fishing out an old business card that she hands to Teagan. It's nothing extravagant, but she had paid her artist buddy Zack to help her have something simple that also wasn't just a generic design with her info and clip art of a fountain pen. “Now you have my number.”

“Right, bouquets.” They purse their lips for a moment before, “I guess four?” She had decided she was going to stop at the cemetery on her way back, leave some flowers for her father, Efa, and her parents. And one for her… or maybe the shop? But if someone knocked over the vase, the water could be an issue… Whatever, her place could use the greenery.

"How far d'ya run? My, it's been..." Since the accident-- "Months since my last run. Just don't have the time I used to. You know with--yeah. Um, sorry." Teagan's brows stitch together with discomfort and she breathes shakily. Stop it, she thinks to herself. Her hands begin to tremble quietly, but Teagan keeps them moving, not wanting Arden to notice.

"Tattoos...tattoos." She latches onto the subject like a life raft, refusing to look Arden in the eyes while she tries to compose herself without making everything awkward. What was wrong with her? She's supposed to be stronger than this. People need her.

"Tattoos...um," She sighs, "Got one!" Her voice, still trembling, manages to sound bright again. "Just the one. But it's hidden, you see." Teagan chuckles, though it doesn't carry any actual humor. Nor does it msst her eyes. "If you want to find it, you'll have to search." She sounds nervous and on the verge of tears, but by some miracle, Arden cuts through the tension and calls her their friend.

Teagan looks sharply up at Arden at that, moved how genuine they sound when they say it. She knows her eyes are glossy and red, but she doesn't really care. Arden saw her at her lowest at the funeral and she saw them in the same state too, when their father passed. She knew loss like Teagan, and a part of her wishes they didn't.

"She was the business one. She took those classes. Efa, I mean." Her head tilts side to side, memories bouncing around. "Maybe I will do it--try 'em too. She just made it look so easy. You two always made school look easy." Teagan chuckles halfheartedly, realizing that she's bringing a perfectly good mood down. It just feels so easy to talk about it with her--at least about Efa. They knew her sister, likely mourning her too. Grief didn't like to stew alone. "I'm sorry, Arden." In a blink, she wipes the tears away and flashes Arden a bright smile. After a few awkward sniffles, she tries to behave normally again. "Where are my manners? Bouquet, yes?"