#both defyed law and logic to find them too

[flaringgoosebumps]

No one's talking about Joyce swearing that Hopper is still alive, literally doing everything she can to get to him and pairing up with someone she met under weird circumstances in order to do so being a parallel to Mike in season 1 trying to find Will.

[perfectsunlight]

14 ⸺ JISOO

warnings: emotional cheating, closeted affection, jealousy, rejection

word count: 2.4k

part of the series: LOGICAL

kim jisoo knew who she was at an early age. the kims practically gave her everything on a silver platter, allowing her to have whatever she desired, whenever she wanted. being an only child, she grew up in a world where elegance and grace were as natural as breathing. her parents, prominent figures in business and law, ensured she had the best education, the finest clothes, and exposure to high society from the moment she could walk.

from the time they first met in 5th grade, chaeyoung was mesmerized by jisoo. 

even as children, jisoo exuded a rare kind of perfection—graceful, polite, and effortlessly charming. chaeyoung, too, came from wealth, her family owning a chain of prestigious hotels known for their opulence and impeccable service. yet, despite their similar backgrounds, chaeyoung felt as if jisoo was a princess from another planet.

“i like your headband,” chaeyoung timidly complimented as she looked at jisoo who was standing beside her. it was after school and the two girls were waiting for their drivers to pick them up. the raven haired girl slowly turned with a smile.

jisoo’s smile was warm, but her reply was as brief as ever. “thanks,” she said softly, her eyes flickering with a hint of curiosity as she took in chaeyoung’s earnest expression.

embarrassed by her own audacity, the young girl cast her gaze downward, fiddling with the straps of her backpack. chaeyoung had summoned all her courage to speak to jisoo, but now that she had, she didn’t know what more to say. still, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the delicate features of the girl beside her—the way the sunlight caught in jisoo’s dark hair, the slight breeze that played with the edges of her school uniform.

out of the corner of her eye, chaeyoung saw jisoo reach up and touch her headband self-consciously. it was a simple accessory, yet it looked effortlessly stylish on jisoo, complementing her perfectly.

“here,” jisoo said suddenly, surprising the other girl. she gently slid the headband off her own head and offered it to chaeyoung. “you can have it. it suits you.”

chaeyoung’s heart fluttered with a mixture of gratitude and nervousness. she hesitated for a moment, then carefully accepted the headband from jisoo’s outstretched hand. “thank you,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing pink with pleasure.

jisoo nodded in response, her smile widening just a fraction before she glanced down the street where her chauffeur-driven car was pulling up. “i have to go,” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of regret. with a small wave, she turned and walked towards the waiting car.

chaeyoung watched jisoo’s retreating figure, clutching the headband in her hand as if it were a precious gift. 

in high school, chaeyoung and jisoo continued to move in similar circles, their paths intersecting in classrooms, at school events, and occasionally in the corridors between classes. despite being in different social circles—jisoo effortlessly popular and chaeyoung finding her niche among athletes—they still often spoke with each other.

park chaeyoung had grown into her own during high school. she was no longer the shy girl who could barely muster a compliment; she had become a confident and accomplished volleyball player, known for her tenacity on the court and her warmth off of it. her classmates admired her athletic prowess and her easy going nature, but the blonde remained focused on her studies and sports, always trying to excel in both realms.

jisoo, on the other hand, continued to excel in academics and extracurricular activities with an effortless grace that seemed to defy the usual high school dramas. she was involved in student government, led various school initiatives, and was often seen at social events surrounded by friends and admirers. 

despite her outward success, jisoo remained somewhat reserved, her interactions with others polite but distant.

it was during their sophomore year that chaeyoung began to realize her feelings for jisoo were deeper than mere admiration. she found herself lingering in hallways just to catch a glimpse of jisoo passing by, or scrolling through her parent’s socials to see glimpses of her in their posts.

her heart raced whenever jisoo smiled at her or spoke to her in passing, and chaeyoung would replay those brief moments in her mind, searching for hidden meanings in jisoo’s words and gestures.

it was also around this time that chaeyoung started to notice her attraction towards girls in general. 

she had always felt a sense of closeness with her female friends, but now there was a newfound awareness—a fluttering in her stomach when she saw certain girls, a quickening of her pulse when they brushed against each other during practice or shared a laugh over lunch.

but there was also something else that she soon quickly discovered about her feelings.

chaeyoung had found out jisoo was attending one of her volleyball games. it was the most anticipated game of the season so far, and the blonde was eager to not only win, but to impress jisoo with her skills on the court. as the game progressed, the athlete couldn't help but steal glances at her crush in the stands. she spotted her amidst the crowd, looking as effortlessly elegant as ever, her eyes focused intently on the game.

with each spike and serve, chaeyoung poured her heart into the game, fueled by a desire to impress jisoo. she felt a surge of adrenaline every time she scored a point, her determination driving her team towards victory.

after a particularly intense rally that ended in a spectacular kill from chaeyoung, she glanced up at the stands, catching jisoo’s eye. to her surprise and delight, jisoo smiled—a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached her eyes and made chaeyoung’s heart skip a beat.

the game ended in a resounding victory for their own team, and the blonde was engulfed in hugs and congratulations from her teammates. as she made her way through the crowd, she saw kim jisoo standing near the exit. her heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness as she approached.

but her footsteps slowly came to a halt when she saw the group of people surrounding the girl she liked. 

the crowd of fans and players started to gather more, congratulating the athlete and vying for jisoo's attention. amid the chaos, a guy from the opposing team’s school walked up to jisoo, striking up a conversation. chaeyoung's heart sank as she saw the boy laugh at something jisoo said, placing a hand on her arm in a gesture that felt far too close for the blonde’s liking.

a pang of jealousy hit the volleyball player hard. she clenched her fists, trying to suppress the emotions swirling inside her. without another word, she clenched her sports bag and turned and walked past jisoo, her steps quickening as she sought to escape the scene that was causing her so much pain.

jisoo noticed chaeyoung's sudden departure and quickly excused herself from the conversation. she followed the blonde, weaving through the bustling crowd until she found her sitting alone in a quiet hallway near the fire escape, her head resting against the cool wall, eyes closed.

“chaeyoung?”

the mentioned girl opened her eyes, her expression a mix of surprise and sadness. “oh,” she replied softly, not meeting jisoo's gaze. “hi.”

“you look upset,” jisoo said, concern evident in her tone. “everything okay?”

“i just needed some air," the blonde muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned her chin against her knees. 

without another word, the school’s sweetheart took a seat next to her. chaeyoung felt her stomach doing flips at the smell of jisoo’s signature perfume filling her senses. the silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken emotions and lingering tension. chaeyoung's mind raced, unsure of how to express the storm of feelings inside her. she wanted to tell jisoo everything, to spill her heart out, but the words seemed stuck in her throat.

“i only came to see you play,” jisoo said softly, her words simple but filled with sincerity. it tore the athlete away and out of her own thoughts, causing her breath to hitch and her heartbeat to quicken.

“wait, really?”

the kim heiress nodded, a small, reassuring smile playing on her lips. she could see the confusion written all over the other girl's face. “of course. i wanted to see you play.”

the blonde felt herself biting her lower lip, the overwhelming emotion too much to contain. she wanted to say something, to tell jisoo how much those words meant to her, but before she could, jisoo leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her cheek.

the kiss was soft and fleeting, but it sent a jolt of warmth through chaeyoung's entire being. as jisoo pulled back, she gave chaeyoung's hand one last gentle squeeze before standing up.

“good job today.” jisoo said quietly, her smile lingering before she turned and walked away, leaving chaeyoung alone in the hallway. 

they never dated at all, jisoo couldn’t afford tainting her image at all. she became increasingly absorbed in her responsibilities and expectations. the pressures of her family legacy left little room for personal matters, and any potential relationship between her and chaeyoung remained unspoken and unexplored.

however, the two remained extremely close. chaeyoung would often sleepover at jisoo’s house, where the two would occasionally kiss and hold hands secretly while her parents were away. sometimes, they’d even go out together on dates.

well, jisoo never called them dates, but the chaeyoung always felt like they were. it was nice, it was intimate, and it was everything the blonde could ever want. but all of that changed once jisoo got into ygu’s renowned criminal justice program. 

determined to keep jisoo close, she made a decision that would shape her future. 

she tried out for ygu's volleyball team, pouring all her energy and skill into making the cut. the thought of attending the same university as jisoo, of keeping those precious memories alive, fueled her every move on the court.

when she received her acceptance letter and learned she had made the team, the blonde felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety. she was thrilled to be at ygu, to be near jisoo, but she also knew that jisoo's life had become increasingly focused on her future place in the kim family business.

despite the changes, chaeyoung clung to the hope that their bond would remain strong. she often sought out jisoo on campus, relishing their conversations and the brief moments of closeness they shared. 

however, it was clear that jisoo's feelings had shifted, her attention consumed by her demanding studies and ambitious career plans.

chaeyoung sat at a table, her books spread out before her, but her attention was focused on jisoo, who sat across from her, engrossed in her studies. despite her own assignments, she found herself captivated by the sight of jisoo's determined expression, her brow furrowed in concentration as she diligently worked through her notes.

the volleyball player couldn't help but admire jisoo's dedication and intelligence. she had always been drawn to jisoo's strength and ambition for years now, but now, at university, those qualities seemed even more pronounced. the blonde watched jisoo for what felt like hours, the world around her fading into the background.

“chaeyoung?” jisoo's voice broke through her reverie. the mentioned girl blinked, snapping out of her trance. 

“hmm?”

dark irises looked up from her notes, a small smile playing on jisoo’s lips. “you've been staring at me for the past fifteen minutes. everything okay?”

chaeyoung felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. she hated how obvious she was sometimes. 

“sorry, i was just thinking.”

jisoo chuckled softly as she thumbed through a few pages of her notes, still stealing a few glances at the girl in front of her. 

“about?”

taking a deep breath, chaeyoung decided it was now or never. she leaned forward slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “jisoo, i still have feelings for you.”

jisoo's smile faltered, her expression turning serious. she quickly glanced around the library, ensuring they weren't being overheard, before focusing back on chaeyoung. “chaeyoung, we've talked about this–”

“i know, i know.” the athlete quickly responded, putting her hands up in defense, “but i can’t help how i feel. jisoo, i still like you. you’re always on my mind.”

the heiress sighed, her eyes softening with sympathy. “look, i care about you a lot. you’re my best friends, and i don’t want to lose that. but my priorities have changed. my family expects so much from me, and i need to focus on my studies and my future career.”

the athlete nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of her own emotions. all she could do was sit there and think to herself: i’d wait forever for you, kim jisoo. even if it means just being your friend now, i’d wait until you’re ready.

chaeyoung kept her word, but she was growing quite discouraged with the lack of affection from jisoo. she wanted jisoo to be obsessed with her, just like how she was with her. everything in the athlete’s mind was full of jisoo, even in the simplest things.

but then there was lisa.

lalisa, with her infectious energy and unwavering attention, became a bright spot in chaeyoung's life. despite having a girlfriend, lisa made no secret of her affection for chaeyoung, often texting her late at night, sharing inside jokes, and spending every available moment with her. lisa didn’t see it as cheating—she saw it as a deep friendship.

chaeyoung, on the other hand, reveled in the attention. she loved how lisa was obsessed with her, how she made her feel special and important. it was something she desperately craved from jisoo but rarely received.

“do you ever think about what we’re doing?” chaeyoung asked suddenly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “i mean, you’ve got a girlfriend and all.”

lisa shrugged, her smile never wavering. she nudged the blonde gently, “we’re just close friends, right? i don’t see anything wrong with that,” the thai girl took a sip of her water before continuing to speak.

“besides, you make me happy, chaeyoung.”

chaeyoung's heart fluttered at lisa’s words. she loved the attention, the way lisa’s eyes lit up when she saw her, the way she made her feel special. but deep down, her heart still ached for jisoo, the girl who held her heart captive for so long.

“yeah, i guess you’re right,” chaeyoung replied, trying to push aside the lingering guilt. she didn’t care if it was selfish, she was going to do what made her happy. and right now, she could have her happiness, even if it came at the expense of someone else's.

TAGLIST ⸺ ✭ @silantryoo @rosiehrs @niniwhiskers @cwpiqwon @jisooftme @1luvkarina @scarfac3 @santasbitch @lisas-earlobe @wallfl9wer @aerihiltonn @unforgivenangel @uzumakioden @skydreamed @haerinfangs @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @haerinkisser @giginings @lilsvx @milanlaia @pandafuriosa60 @wifey-badalee @slowlyturninggay291 @dreamingst99 @7daysronnie

CLOSED.

[witchofthesouls]

You know the film Who Framed Rodger Rabbit where humans and Toons live there together?

Imagine the sheer chaos to occur if any Transformers iterations landed on that type of Earth. No one knows who the fuck these giant robots are as they definitely aren't Toons. Meanwhile the bots can't help but be confused by these strange creatures living alongside the organics.

The Toons however see both factions as perfect targets for mischief. Starscream crashing into a wall via a super realistic painting, poor Optimus getting flowers full of dynamite or Bumblebee having multiple 'Kick Me I'm Fake' signs plaster on his bumper by Toon cars. Megatron feels like they landed in a looney bin as he fails to intimidate the 50th cartoon rat on the ship.

This probably lead to kidnapping a human cause no one is making progress when they're constantly getting menaced by law defying entities.

Oh man, the childhood nostalgia is so real here 🤣🤣

Look, the Toons would break the Autobots and the Decepticons. Cybertronians are not strangers to special powers, but beings that regularly defy all sense of laws in such a blase, hilarious manner without one ounce of logic yet yield so much damage?

The factions' respective medbays will be constantly full of mecha with processor crashes and circuit burnout. Soundwave, Prowl, and Red Alert will have to be put into long-term stasis for their mental and emotional health.

You want peace? Or a long-term armistice? Send in Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck as Trojan Horses.

There is no escape from their antics. Those creatures are everywhere.

Land. Sea. Air. Fucking space in a random astro-suit.

(Mechs would be driven mad trying to find who the hell is Marvin the Martian in any database. Including the Galactic Alliance.)

Even Megatron will break.

He will become hollow mech, desperate for respite, and beg for mercy. A new phobia for the fear of the sound of carrots being crunched and chewed would be implemented in their disorders. As well as Daffy's crazed laughter once they can reliably track it.

But the biggest kicker? All the humans would just chuckle or outright laugh at their declarations. Aliens? Really? Are you sure? What's the gimmick?

Many humans shake their heads, elbowing people around them because there's a new joke going around. Apparently, the Toons caught into the mecha anime explosion, so now they have sentient Gundams walking around with an epic battle of good versus evil.

(Que some Americans shouting things in Japanese. Some want to improve or keep up their language skills. Others just want to be dicks. It would be funnier if humans had so much experience picking out the robots in disguise from the Toons' general mayhem and shenanigans.)

The Toons know that those are real aliens but are too delighted by the sheer potential chaos of having fresh meat, ahem, new neighbors.

[lesbians4armand]

on the technical side of things, maybe armand is intersex. he was often described as being beautiful like a girl! he couldve been born with a boys body but as he got older and hit puberty, perhaps he had a hormone disorder he didn't know about/coupled with sexual trauma/being turned he never really got to go through a full hrt puberty.

i know armand slept with numerous vampires in his coven, but he DOES have a tendency to not fuck human beings. maybe vampires CAN get pregnant, but they need a living counter part to make it work. immortal children are banned under vampire law, so i can see why female vampires aren't having children of their own (for fear of their child/them dying/the child being unable to progress physically or mentally) but wouldn't it just be like armand to be pregnant and not know until it's too late to do anything with?

or he gets pregnant and daniels the first to recognize the symptoms? the eating, the mood swings, how feral he's gotten during sex. i assume it would be jarring to wake up and find your vampire boyfriend projectile vomiting the 70 units of blood he gorged on 3 hours prior.

INTERSEX ARMAND!! YES!! The vampires of the vampire chronicles have always defied gender in its social ways but to have it completely blur binaries of biological sex is so so good, they already have so many differences to their biology and anatomy its not too much of a stretch.

And you’re right, armand is always described as being very androgynous, and bringing that along with his limited memories of his youth and the trauma that he went through, he could very well be intersex and not even realise it, though lack of memory or some other factor. I love exploration of Armand’s gender identity a lot due to his lack of self identity in general, I’ve considered genderfluid armand before and even transgender armand (t4t devils minion… real) but intersex is a new concept to me that’s super fascinating.

(shout out to that one fic where armand IS alice because he can literally change his gender and sex at will btw been thinking about that since i read it… very good very delicious very gender)

On logistics of vampire specific pregnancy, i also agree that one participant must be a living human, i doubt that vampires can get one another pregnant (both being dead things, as well as the law to not create vampire children). I think male vampires who do sleep with human women (cough cough, lestat) would be able to get them pregnant, and that human men can get vampires pregnant too. Someone has to be alive to create life in this scenario.

Who knows if these pregnancies would be entirely viable without specific requirements. Would the fetus need blood in-utero if half-vampire?? or is the baby just human as its created with living dna regardless? how does the vampire reproductive system work?? if their hearts still pump blood and their lungs still breathe, and their brains are still alive, their reproductive system may still be functioning even if other processes shut down? Iirc the VC universe later established that vampirism is kind of like a ghost-alien parasite infecting a dead human body but keeping some parts of it living. maybe this does include reproduction, I think all grounds of logic went out when we first got to aliens.

In the tv-show universe (in which im basing this crazy au), the vampires can have sex (though they could not in the books), so this implies a working reproductive system.

Anyway yeah! I think intersex Armand COULD be getting pregnant here. Admittedly I’m not super familiar with intersex people and how this would work but I’d love to learn more and it’s definitely a way of getting mpreg to work here. I think im too scared to commit to omegaverse so this is a very fun dynamic and solution.

On to the other parts of this ask as I have gone on a bit, Armand does seem the type to neglect his own wellbeing to the point he doesn’t realise he’s pregnant until months along when there is little to be done, but I also think he wouldn’t want anything to be done. He might not have very good experience or track record with children or kid-vampires (see claudia), but he would love the evidence of love from daniel. It’s a part of daniel and a part of him, I think he’d be obsessed with that, that they can bring something that is alive and good and both of them to the world.

The idea of daniel realising like “oh my vampire boyfriend is actually very strangely, almost like he’s ill, but vampires can’t get ill! It’s weird it’s like when Alice was pregnant with… Oh! oh that’s it. okay.”

thank you for the ask this was very interesting.

[stareena]

The Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer

My rating: 4 of 5 stars Recommended to me by my Mother, The Executioner's Song was an in depth look at the justice system in America in the 1970s. Gary Gilmore is paroled to Utah from Oregon. He meets a girl and that's when it goes all wrong. Two people are killed and the state of Utah is baying for blood. When he is convicted, Gary Gilmore accepts his fate and demands to be executed for his crimes, making America blanch. With executions still legal in Utah (at this time), it still have been some years since the last person was executed in America, creating all sorts of powerful reactions. To be honest, I was bored for most of the story. It is based upon true events and the way it was presented was, bizarre. For me there seemed way too much backstory for a lot of the minor characters that had very little to do with the overall story. Yet there were times when I found myself backtracking pages trying to figure out when a new character came on the scene and what their story was, only finding no backstory for them. Looking back I wonder if they were people that didn't offer information beyond their involvement with the cases. If you read this book, make a flow chart of all the people names, especially in the second half of the book. I believe there are about 17 lawyers that are mentioned throughout and if you are not paying strict attention, you'll be lost. Also a lay person's knowledge of law is helpful, though that was handled VERY well in the book, explaining the legality and how it differs in Utah. Now, all that said, the book has something like 1100 pages, (not a light weekend read) yet it wasn't until the last 50 pages (and Acknowledgement) that I really go into the story. It was very fascinating watching how so many people that were involved with the main character changed and how they ended up. The events at the end of the book were eye opening to say the least. A front row seat to something I never thought to witness. Yet despite the horror of the events of the book, there was a feeling of respect for everyone. Killers and victims alike. I will say that I have never read any true crime novel that handles both sides of the crime with that level of humanity, acknowledging that while some criminal acts defy logic, everyone is human. Do I think the book is worth it? Yes. I've been complaining to friends that every time I picked the book to read, it grew another 100 pages. I feel if nothing else, it offers the most interesting insight into the legal system of the time, capital punishment, belief and humanity. View all my reviews

[astaroth1357]

IT'S RAINING (DEMON) MEN!!!

I asked my sister for a prompt to get my creativity going. She played this song. Nuff said.

Intro:

It's been two months since the MC went back to the human world, and the demon boys are getting desperate to see their human… How desperate are we talking? Desperate enough to try their hands at some questionable sanctioned magic to get themselves to the human world... Good news is, they'll get there!

Just probably not in the way they expected. 🤷‍♀️🤭

Lucifer

He is going to KILL Mammon the next time he gets a hold of him…

He had no intention of taking an impromptu trip to the human world. He actually has clearance to go there when he needs to, thank you, so he didn't need to use any underhanded tricks to go between realms...

But he had made the mistake of walking too carelessly into Mammon's room while looking for a book he stole and stepped on a sigil half-obscured by an old pizza box…

...which is how he ended up falling from the Devildom to the human world at an unimaginable speed. It was like someone was yanking him to the Earth by the goddamn foot!

The unsuspecting MC was just out window shopping when suddenly an empty parked car across the street was utterly decimated by his falling body…

Of course, HE was fine, but that poor car never stood a chance… 😣 They had to help Lucifer pry himself out from the caved-in metal…

While he watched the MC fuss and try to brush all the broken glass off of him, Lucifer had only three things in mind:

(1) They look so cute when they're worried about him for practically no reason...

(2) Since he's already here, he may as well keep them company for… oh, a couple days at least?; and

(3) He was going to punish Mammon slightly less brutally than usual this time… May just fling him into a car too and leave it at that. 😌

Mammon

Okay, Mammon isn't stupid. He can do magic, he swears!!

He's just… rusty. Yeah. That. 🙄

That's the only reason the sigil that he haphazardly drew in his bedroom flung him to the human world like a catapult instead of neatly teleporting him like it was supposed to...

When the MC woke up that morning, they heard something familiar… Sad, pitiful little cries for help from outside their bedroom window….

Really only one person sprang right to their mind.

When they ran out to check, they indeed found Mammon tangled up in a tree like a wooden spider's web... He wasn't even facing upright!

It took them a half hour to detangle their poor demon from the tree… They almost gave up halfway through and had to call the fire department to pull him out like a trapped kitten... 🤦‍♀️

To say that Mammon was pretty clingy after they got him down hardly covers it. They were now his savior! (Yet again)

They had better not have any plans for the next day or two because he's going to want to spend every second he can with them… 

Or at least until Lucifer finds him and drags him back home by the back of the neck… 😰 (Hope they don't mind housing this figurative fugitive for a while…)

Leviathan

So in his defense, he didn't actually think the "Return to Lover" spell he saw on TSL would work, but he got so desperate to see MC again that he half-jokingly tried it one night...

Unfortunately for him, he also forgot that Simeon tends to use a lot of real-world influences in his writing, so… 😥

He hadn't wanted to be dragged to the human world quite so violently, and let's say he is NOT a graceful faller (arm flailing, girly screaming, spinning all over the place, etc.). 

Only when the smell of beach sand and sea salt hit his nose did he begin to calm down a little and get a good look at the surroundings he was hurtling towards… The ocean!

Video game logic dictates that if you land in water, you should be fine, right?? (Well, that's not how it works in real life, but when you're in a super sturdy demon body, there can be expectations 🤷‍♀️)

The MC was not expecting someone to splash down into the water next to them like they fell out of Heaven, nor for them to enter the water with the poise of an Olympic high diver…

They REALLY weren't expecting to see Levi surface beside them, demon form in the all it's sea serpent-y glory, totally stoked that the stupid thought he had actually brought him to them!

… Of course, he also has no idea how to get back, but who actually cares about that?? Lucifer will figure out he's not in his room eventually. For now, there wasn't anything in the ocean or beyond that could separate the MC from their adorkable otaku… 🤭

Satan

Okay. Teleportation magic is hard. Very, very hard. It basically requires bypassing several different physical laws by breaking down one's essence into a transmigrational-uh...

Whatever, the point is it's difficult, and mistakes happen even to the best of us.

Satan genuinely thought he triple-checked the symbols on his sigil… He must have made a crooked stroke or forgot a step in completing the seal properly… Either way, the spell he intended to bring him right to MC might have made a… slight miscalculation.

Rather than effortlessly stepping out beside them, he found himself hurtling towards the human world like a falling comet… If he hadn't known a few spells that could slow down his fall, he'd have had a pretty nasty meet with the ground... 😣

The MC was visiting a local park when pretty much everyone in their vicinity heard the sound of trees rapidly snapping nearby. At first, they were concerned it was a large animal… and then Satan stumbled out covered in twigs and leaves!

They, of course, ran over to see if he was alright, and the cheeky bastard just denied that anything had gone wrong. "Apparently," this was all according to plan… 

(Truthfully, he'd rather call Mammon some unsung genius than admit that he got the spell wrong, even if it was complex… 🙄)

Truthfully, Satan wasn't going to try making a return sigil for a while, so at least he and MC could be together for a time! Do they know if there were any cat cafes nearby??

Asmodeus

Asmo was PISSED at Solomon, furious even because he wouldn't help him sneak away to go see his beloved human! Didn't he know how hard the distance was on him?? The nerve!!! 😤

So, to him, it only seemed fair to steal some of the sorcerer's tomes and equipment… If he wouldn't help him in person, he could at least (unknowingly) do so in spirit!

… He just wasn't expecting the spells to be that difficult. Asmo is decent enough at magic, but some of those explanations were honestly beyond him… They bordered well into Satan or even Lucifer territory...

He tried his best, he really did, but the gentle teleportation that he was after actually flung him to the human world like he had been shot out of a cannon…! And while it was raining in the human world too!! 😫

The MC was walking home in the rain, umbrella and everything, when they heard screaming from the sky...

Thankfully, Asmo remembered just enough magic to cushion his fall… But that didn't save him from landing right into a massive puddle right next to the MC, effectively soaking them both.

On any other day, he'd have been angry that his expensive clothes were covered in rainwater, but that day? The second he saw the MC was there (and also tastefully soaked in water 😏), he just flung himself at them with a squeal of delight!

The MC had to convince him to let them get inside before they got too cold, but every step of the way was full of laughter and cuddles between the two of them...

Asmo would have to call Solomon to fess up to his theft, but hey, he got to see MC out of it! The bruised tailbone and ruined clothes were more than worth a treat like that.

Beelzebub

Beel genuinely wasn't intending to go to the human world; he really wasn't. He hated the distance like everyone else, but he knew better than to mess with magic that dangerous…

What happened was that he was walking by Satan's room one day and he smelt something inside… apples. A lot of them. He just couldn't help himself…

He didn't know that Satan was using those apples as test subjects for his teleportation magic… Unfortunately, the first fruit that he grabbed actually put him right smack dab in the middle of an incomplete sigil…

Beel kind of blacked out for whatever happened during the next part, it happened really fast, but it was the smell of more apples that woke him back up… and pears, peaches, pineapples, plums-

It's a farmer's market. Beel fell into the apple stand of a farmer's market….

The MC was out shopping there when they heard two things: the screams of shock and horror from the end of the market and a familiar voice shouting, "I'M HUNGRY!!!"

Of course they ran towards the screaming, defying all survival instincts (because who else are we talking about here?) and found Beel, mid-rampage, eating every scrap of food he could get his hands on…

But he actually stopped when he heard them shout his name. That's right, he stopped eating right then and there to turn and see them in the crowd... Oh, the smile that popped up on his face could have reignited a sun!

Beel had no idea how he got there and even less idea of getting back, so the MC had to eventually call Lucifer. They did get to spend the day with their gentle giant, though! (Just don't mention the massive bill for all the fruit he ate… 😣)

Belphegor

So here's the story. Belphie was sleeping in the library, as he sometimes does, and the next thing he knew, he was free-falling through the sky.

No, he didn't know what happened either. Maybe he rolled onto a stray sigil Satan left behind. Perhaps he was accidentally summoned to the human world. Mayhaps he even dreamed about MC so hard that it broke a rift in space-time to try and bring the two together... 

Who the hell knows? His more pressing concern was less how he got up there and more where he would end up.

Unfortunately for him, all he could see below him was a human residential area, and even worse yet, it looked like he was hurtling towards someone's roof… The MC's roof, to be exact!

MC was incredibly lucky to have already been up and starting their morning routine when the seventh-born came crashing onto their bed. Who knows how much damage he could have done if he had landed on them...??

That didn't change their shock to see Belphie, covered in plaster and wood fragments, sitting himself up while looking more annoyed to have been woken up than that he… you know... crashed through their roof...

He was grateful to have popped up close to them because it would have been pretty awkward to land in some random human's room. The MC was… less enthused that they now had some significant repairs to do.

Smooth-talker he is, Belphie not only managed to convince them that Lucifer would take care of the payment (which he would) but also not to call him just yet. Not until he could get himself cleaned off and maybe have a nap or two… Say, they weren't going anywhere today, right? Good. 😏

Check out my Masterlist for more wacky ideas.

[yandere-wishes]

Dr.Frankenstein

💀Yandere Idia Shroud x Reader

💀Summary: Idia wants to prove the world wrong. To show that there is more to life than good and bad, villains and heroes. But somewhere along the way, he falls in love with what he is trying to prove. 

💀Warnings: Dead reader, delusional tendencies, gore,

💀Edited by my beloved Peri!! @tealyjade-libran

💀 Alternative title: Dr. Frankenstein falls in love with his monster. 

Idia had known, from an all too young age that his heart was fashioned to be enraptured with misery and sympathy.  

Once before, a few thousand eons ago, Idia had been a meager child, boyish, shy and happy with life. Sitting on his mother's lap, as her thinner than bone fingers ignited themselves on his scorching hair. He'd listen as her sunken lips recited story after story from forgotten books and dead myths. content, long ago he had known the feeling of contentment. 

And yet said feeling had died so long before Idia even comprehended the narrative behind death. His joy at hearing tales about daring heroes and bewildering gods ran dry all too soon. He'd grown numb to the stories of good and evil, the same formula used over and over and over again. Good won, good prevailed; evil lost, evil vanished. It lacked logic and sense. The probability behind mindless heroes saving the day each and every time was astronomical. It couldn't happen. Yet the history of their world and his darling mother's tongue told a different tale. 

-Not only could it be done, but rather it had been done on endless occasions.-

There had, however, been one story that stood out amongst the rotten batch. An anecdote that lacked morals and didn't defy a single law of nature. One would never think that a god born would find solace in a tale of a simple human trying to play god. The only story that sunk deep into his arteries like fragile needles, swimming through his blood before pricking manically at his heart. The only story mama told with faint nostalgia and a distant voice. The spiel of a scientist, whose mind was both his greatest ally and worst foe. A man who looked at the heavens with neither admiration nor hope. A mortal who wasn't satisfied with what good and bad had to offer. Dr. Frankenstein, whose one true desire was to do what gods did, to prove that he too could accomplish what the heavens claimed a miracle. 

It was then and there among the pitch black of his parent's room that the oldest -no the only- son of the Shroud family proclaimed in a hoarse voice that cracked at each interval. That he too would be like Victor Frankenstein. That he too would live in a world of his own, a world with no room for good and evil. A world free of wretched stories that filled the minds of jovial children. And on that day, fate had the gall to listen to the claims of a brainless brat. 

Even after countless millennia, Idia Shroud had not changed, he'd only grown into the role he forged for himself some centuries ago. 

Yet nobody ever said it would be so hard to suffer the pain of a once maddening genius. The stories made it seem easy, made Frankenstein’s pain into pretty poetry that held only a fraction of the weight. Idia came to question time and time again, what it really was he was trying to suffer for. Why did he bestow upon himself the endless torment of alienation from a world that he too longed to be a part of?

Victor Frankenstein had something to prove, he longed to be a god in the most unclassic way. All the frenetic doctor wished was to shout at all mankind and the heavens above that he was the greatest. For in his suffrage he had discovered the antidote to what sets men apart from gods. That he, the overlooked boy, the forgotten pupil had -with solely his intellect- created life. 

-Idia too desired to do just that. To scream at this fairy tale world that he, the cursed heir, the villain, the monster, was superior to every prince and hero in existence.-

Somewhere along the line, in the space between todays and tomorrows, he'd somehow lost the method behind the madness he had come to cage himself within. He lost purpose, lost hope, forgot why he'd declared to earth and Olympus that he too would be a genius akin to Dr. Frankenstein. 

Idia didn't know what spark had flared his senses, what made him realize what it was he lacked from the hopeless doctor. He liked to think it had been the moment glacial fingers rinsed in fair blood and washed away gold and been stripped from his pale clammy hands. Phantom kisses had waltzed away from his burning cheek to float back into the spiral from which they had risen. 

The dead marching back to the land of the deceased.

Leaving him to crawl back into the dark pits of his self-made hell.

Only this time, he'd understand why Frankenstein had dedicated his life to seclusion. Why he'd taken gulps of anguish, rather than air. 

It was so painfully obvious, sitting in front of him on a golden throne this whole time. How in Hades' name had he been so blind? How had he forgotten?

Although admittedly his chagrin of forgetting far outweighed his elation of finally remembering. Frankenstein hadn't suffered for not, he had suffered to build, to create. His isolation wasn't of choice but rather out of necessity. 

-The monster-

 The Monster was Frankenstein's raison d'être, The final fruit of his endless labors. He had risked everything to build him and that's exactly what Idia would do too. 

Victor Frankenstein had his monster. 

Idia Shroud would have his monster.

//

It was on a dreary night that Idia beheld the accomplishment of his toils. anxiety burned through his fragile body, amounting ever so quickly to agony. Thoughts of do's and don't's flooded his body, pilling on top of each other like corpses after a genocide.

Inside the lights were just barely surviving, every few minutes they would flicker breathing in a final breath before a short death, only to be revived minutes later, spilling their artificial glow throughout the chamber. The room itself reeked of rotting flesh and something so sickly sweet, it almost made the dorm leader of the nearly deceased heave. 

Idia's eyes remain static, seemingly stitched to the thing on the metal slab of a table. The body lays limp like a porcelain doll. No, not a doll, Idia thinks, like the monster, Frankenstein’s monster before it arose from its deathly slumber. 

Outside A flash of lightning crackles through the night sky, rough sparks of electricity flow through the murky air. They jolt and dance before dying in the night's void. 

After it, the world falls still, trapped behind the iron bars of an endless minute. The once meek god feels a surge dance through his core. The levity of his dreams prancing about. He's close, all so close. A breath away and it will be done. A minute away and all the world will see that there's never been any need for good and evil. Morals are merely prejudice beaten into every living thing, a simple way to keep mortals in their place and gods ruling above them. 

The bloody needle in his hand slips through his leather-covered fingers, chimes as it hits the blood soaked ground. Idia's mind races through the odds and ends of everything. Through the fairy tale that is his life. He wonders, would they be proud of him? Would His darling dead brother whose soul now rests in a metal body, shut down and laid to rest in a forgotten corner, advocate what he's about to do? Would his mother's sickly lingula sing praise to him, retell the glory of her son's endeavors to the children of the accursed isle? Probably not, it's a bitter thought, but as true as they come. What parent or brother on this damn earth would be proud of their monster trying to fabricate an abomination? Who, in the millennia to come would look back on him and declare with pride that Idia Shroud had been a genius, one who stood above the heroes and villains and gods? Who would ever call him something better than a hero, better than a villain, better than a god? 

In hindsight, Idia likes to think he always knew what he was doing. Always knew that he wanted the world to remember him as the one who broke the rhythm that the universe had been dancing to for endless years. To show this story-obsessed world, that good, and evil were merely perceptions of broken minds. Ideologies fabricated to justify meaningless actions. 

Good could be bad.

Evil could be nice. 

But science prevailed over all else.

Idia's knees quivered as he bends down by the table, his pale blue lips hovered above his creation's stitched-up forehead. He knew it was wrong, so, so wrong. But it couldn't be helped. For some ungodly reason, as the days ticked by and he began to sew together the bag of mismatched limbs. Idia had, in some way, come to love his creation. He wouldn't call it love per se. But he did long to hold his fragile creation in his arms. To kiss their reddened lips as their torn tongue invaded his mouth. 

In the dead of night as he laid beside his still dead lover, no monster, not lover, not yet. He began to wonder, had Frankenstein fallen in love with his abomination somewhere along the road? Had fate once again played its silly little games and twisted their paths to forever meet? Did Victor Frankinstine ever wish to kiss his creation, to have them kiss him?

It may have been wrong. The storybook-bound people of this world may even call it evil. But it wouldn't be that way for long. Idia's fingers curled into his palm, the shards of his bitten-off nails dug deeper into his flesh. His chest tightened with a foreign sensation. A feeling that made cold sweat run down his thin neck. 

Using what little strength he had left, Idia pushed himself off the ground and wobbled over to his mainframe machine. He braced himself on the heavy machinery trying to regain a semblance of his balance. He could do this, he had to do this. 

His bony finger coiled around the silver leaver, the patched of rust bite into his skin. He held the power to defy everything. To make a new world. His golden pupils land on his fingers for a second. a faint memory of his mother slither back into his mind. It's murky and foggy but he remembers the way her boney fingers use to trail down his hair and arms and legs. How she traced ghosts and blood splatters on his chubby wrists, as she retold the story of the mad scientist. Comically enough she had been the reason why Idia had fabricated this self-induced prophecy and now he'd grown to be her spitting image. A carbon copy of the person who fueled his obsession with defying the laws of good and evil. 

The leaver budged forward, clicking in protest as Idia pulled it lower and lower. Outside thunder boomed through the air, louder and louder. Maybe the ancient gods knew what he was doing. Maybe this storm was their warning to him. Yelling and shrinking to get him to stop. Threatening him to give up this game he had played for so long. 

No.

Not this time. 

Idia had operated by the book, he'd done everything like Victor Frankenstein. No ancient deity or prized warrior would be able to stop him. The gods' threats were the last part of his plan, all he needed was the lightning, the stray string of electricity. Then you would come alive. You'd be his to hold, to love, to cherish. To show to the whole damn mindless world. 

A crackle shot through the air, twisting itself around the rod connected to the device and to an extension, you as well. It slated around the iron, like a wild tiger trapped in a cage. Squawking and fighting to free itself as it slid downwards. The moment it came in contact with the larger body of the machine, it roared, a deafening white noise that reverberated off the stone walls. It pierced Idia's ears, causing a thin line of blood to drool down the side of his head. The apparatus buzzed to life, bright lights filled the chamber and the wires attached to your corpse began to stir. 

The once still carcass began to jerk violently, its head and arms and feet shaking, twisting in inelegant gruesome movements. Its torso would lift from the table only to crash down once more, with a force that surely fractured a few bones. Amid the madness, the mouth of the monster began to open, popping the loose stitches around the edge of her lips. Its long tongue darted out like a snake. And though it was mostly hushed by the hissing of the loose electric bolts and the harsh rain that had started to pour outside. Idia swore he heard her whisper his name.

The fire-haired boy ran across the room, tumbling to the side of the metal table. His large arms wrapped around your tiny ones. His eyes bore into yours. Watching as your inconsistent eyes stared into his. Your face was soft and tender, painted in an innocence only worn by young children. You were his now, his perfect creation. Something began to build inside of him, a forgotten feeling. 

Contentment; this was contentment, something he hadn't felt for a long long time. 

What are gods if not humans who possess a secret no one else could obtain? With you by his side, in his arms, Idia could finally, finally triumph overall. He had made life, he had defied all else, surely now everyone could see he was superior to all else in this make-believe world. 

But the moment ended all too soon. Your eyes began to dull over, darkening with every blink until they shut permanently once more. The thumping of your borrowed heart began to slacken. Pounding slower and slower until it stilled. The patched up body came next, falling limp, dead again, floating back to the yonder of the grave. Out of his grasp, out of his life.

The world didn't stand still this time, instead, it scrambled forward at aching speed. No sooner had you taken your first breath had you taken your very last. You'd left without ever saying "hello".

Maybe in the midst of all the chaos, glorious altering chaos, he screamed, maybe he cried. Maybe it finally dawned on him why Dr. Frankenstein was merely a myth. A fable told to accursed children. Because Victor Frankenstein wasn't good or evil. He neither harbored joy nor malice. He wished only to be the best. And for so long Idia had wished the same. Searched for the same purpose in his meaningless life. 

What is a scientist if not a harbinger of grief and pain? 

Someone who devotes their life and loin, riddle and reason, in search of true purpose amongst the forces of the universe. What's a scientist if not a god in their own right. 

Had he been a god just now, Idia was left to ponder. For two glorious, astonishing, baffling moments Idia had been better than any god in existence. He had prevailed where every hero had failed. He had accomplished what villains went mad trying to achieve. He had been victorious.

Yes, Idia Shroud had fulfilled his dream. 

If only for a couple of inert moments. 

Gods were merely that, humans who had created something from the very soil they too were made of. 

And he too had done it. 

But alas in the end, maybe the legends and the myths had been true, credible good always won and evil did always vanish. Barring you had been so young, so new, you didn't even comprehend good or evil, you hadn't been alive long enough to understand what those two defining forces even were. The world didn't yet know if you were even good or evil. But it matters all so very little because you were his creation, his monstrosity, his, and Idia Shroud had always been and would always be evil, a villain in his own right. Just another gear in the predominant forces of the universe.

He'd been a fool to think he could defy the structured narrative this world had come to accept as law. 

Although, no narrative could ever change how much he had loved you, dead or alive. It wouldn't change how he had almost, almost, became Dr.Frankenstein. 

Although at the final page just before he closed the book. In the back of his mind, Idia was sure he had become the doomed doctor. 

For he too had both fallen in love with his creation and driven himself mad over it.  

[pure-kirarin]

The rose left unwatered (Law x f!reader)

Heyo guys ! this is my first multi part fanfiction and I hope that you will all like it =w=.  No TW for now apart for coming smut in next chapters~  This was originally a request by @soul-stealer-reaper​ . Thanks for requesting :) originally you asked for a scenario with rough NSFW where Law has a crush on a girl that the government is afraid of and that has high bounty. As this will have some parts, everything you asked for will come in the next chapters so no worries :’) ! I won’t hide that wrote quite freely tho, I hope that it’s fine.  Synopsis : You have felt unwanted for so long that you forgot the last time you felt like you belonged. Quite paradoxical, when you are one of the most wanted “criminals” in the new world. You cross paths with Law after joining the strawhats at Fishman Island to “kill some time” and you both feel a weird connection from the moment your eyes met, curiosity, hatred or desire, did it really matter as long as feelings were involved ? ---------------------------

A rose left unwatered will wither, A heart left unloved will rot, A sweet dream left untouched will go bitter,  A love left unspoken will be forgot. Nemo -  Murder in Venice

The first time that Law saw you, he found you extremely annoying. He remembered that he saw your wanted poster somewhere, with one of the highest bounties that he has ever seen. Seeing such a high bounty made him raise an eyebrow at first, what could you have done to have the whole world on your back ? The second thought that came to his mind was that of detachement, then he flinched at that thought.

The first time that Law saw you in person was after his Allience with the strawhats. You stayed at the ship the whole time, you didn't even bother to follow others to punk Hazard or to help them with their plans. He thought that you were an extremely selfish person and you reminded him of the person that he hated most. That way you had of doing what you wanted without caring about others, the smirk you had on your lips at all times, never submitting, always acting so sure of yourself, it irritated him.

How could someone get such a strong reaction out of him ? He didn't even know, he always eyed you from afar and it was enough to know that you prfoundly, passionately got on his nerves.

You joined the strawhats in the Fishmen Island, finding your way to them and just asking to join. Luffy's simplistic demeanor meant that he accepted right away, not caring about who you were and not flinching at your high bounty.

You made it clear that you were just staying to be entertained, in fact, you didn't want to fight, you didn't want to help anyone, your curiosity was just peaked by Luffy, by that man that defied the world government, by that man that defied everyone at Marineford. You weren't impressed, but you just felt sympathy towards him and wanted to find some company.

You found what you were looking for, in fact, life with the strawhats was enjoyable, you didn't get along with Usopp or Nami. The former thought that you were « too scary » and would kill them in their sleep, the latter hated how little you were willing to cooperate.

You had your own reason, but nobody on that ship was able to grasp your personnality, you just had your own way of thinking, your own internal logic that nobody seemed to get. Who were you ? Why were you there and why was the whole world on your back ? All these questions were provoking Law, teasing him endlessly. His curiosity was growing day after day and you were always there, on a lounge chair enjoying the burn of the sun on your skin, not caring about anything else, not caring about him, not that he cared...did he ? You got on his nerves just by being there, he felt obseverd yet, he wasn't the kind of people to get flustered but your gaze was so intense, feline.

It was a soft night on the sunny, a few days before getting to Dressrosa.  On this night, the strawhats decided to gather around after dinner like always. They enjoyed socializing and spending time together, telling stories and playing silly games.  It was quite late so Momo was already sleeping. Everyone was on the deck enjoying some drinks and you were on the crow's nest, peaceful.

« Y/N-chaaawn~ » Screamed Sanji, making you look down. « Come have some fun with us, don't stay there on your own ! »

« - Yeah Y/N ! We're all having fun here. »  Said Luffy.

You jumped gracefully from the crow's nest just like a cat. You then looked around circularly before taking place between Law and Robin as she silently made some space for you. The atmosphere was light and everyone was enjoying themselves. Zoro was drinking bottle after bottle as Sanji was screaming at him. Usopp was telling you all for the tenth time about how he took down a sea king with his little finger and Luffy and Chopper were captivated by how cool that was.

You were just silently enjoying that sense of peace till Nami asked you out of nowhere

« Oh true Y/N, I actually never asked but I am curious, why is your bounty so high ? What have you done ? »

For a second your expression changed and everyone's eyes were on you. You just decided to tell them some kind of lie and you said that you killed a celestial dragon. Everyone looked at you in awe, killing a celestial dragon means that you had to escape from admirals. You excused yourself then saying you were tired, therefore going to sleep.

After hours of partying Strawhats went to sleep. You got out of the girl's quarter wearing only a night gown. Your thoughts were waltzing since earlier's events and you were looking melancolically at the ocean. The sound of the waves was so calming, you got close to the board of the sunny, placing your elbows on the wooden surface. You didn't notice it when Law came your way, he wasn't sleeping either, his sleeping schedule was always herractic. He was still intrigued by the lie you told earlier and by your overall attitude, something about you drew him towards you like a magnet.

-(Y/N)-ya...You didn't kill a celestial dragon, did you?

His voice was low and hoarse, stealing a murmur out of your lips. Your eyes met his, gray, icy. It was the first time he said your name outloud, actually, you briefly ever interacted since he got on this ship.

-Trafalgar ?..

You were wondering why did he bring this up, he never ever showed interest in you and you in him. In fact, now that you looked at him more in detail, you could say that he was an exceptionally handsome male with soft dark hair and a gloomy but all the more seductive cast of demeanor.

He could obtain any female he wanted at a snap of his fingers. You looked away and added :

-I thought that you disliked me. Why do you even ask ?

He raised an eyebrow, but got back to his stoic expression almost immediatly. He didn't know that it showed. However, you were wrong, he was starting to get intrigued by you, by your high bounty, by the detached way you acted. He was usually the one to observe and analyse people, but something about you...He couldn't put a finger on.

-I don't like lies.

-I have my own reasons...I'm sure there are a lot of things that you want to keep secret.

You hesitated then looked his side. He seemed calm still and just shrugged, ready to go back to his spot but then you added ;

-I lied because I didn't want to involve anyone in this...When I was just a child, I was a part of a dozen kids that were selected to take part into a « government experiment »...I don't want to go into details but...you clenched your fist, eyes fixed on an imaginary point in front of you I am the only survivor of that experiment...Therefore I'm being tracked... We were given power...To this day I don't know its extent...But I know that with just a blow of my fingers I could...you gasped How could a child be granted such a power ? Why did they have to choose for me ? I didn't want any of this....I never wanted to fight, I don't want to fight. I just wanted to be normal, to have a family, to feel wanted...haha...your laugh was bitter I mean, I know that I am the most wanted person you probably met, but I didn't mean it in that way. I hope that this satisfies your curiosity, Trafalgar Law.

Your eyes met, he looked in them, deep, searching for traces of honesty. You were telling the truth, there wasn't a doubt. He liked the way his name sounded out of your lips, it was the first time that he heard these three letters murmured by you. It's as if his first name sounded different, you had that way of saying it, almost like a whisper. You looked so vulnerable in your nightgown, so fragile despite your usual arrogant carapace. The fiery tigress looked like a sweet kitten and he was surprised by the way he just wanted to reassure you. He brushed that thought quickly and added, stoic ;

-I see, why did you tell me ?  

-You just asked me to, no ? I just felt like we were a bit alike...Ah. Also, quit asking me questions....This is starting to feel like a doctor examination...Now it's my turn to ask. Why do you even care ? I didn't think that the surgeon of death was such a curious person.

He scratched his chin, hesitating for a second, but then he just said bluntly ;

-The first time I saw you, I thought that you were extremely annoying.

- Ah ? you looked at him with a straight face, but still a bit offended If we're playing first impressions then...

-But I get it now.

He wasn't annoyed, in fact, he was just fascinated. It wasn't animosity that he felt but desire to know more about you. It wasn't that he was making sure that you're not endangering anyone, he wanted to look at you, it was just excuses upon excuses, rationalization for a case of irrational fascination. Now that the diagnostic was there, he could understand his emotions more clearly.

-You are talking in riddles but well...Whatever...Why did you form an alliance with Luffy by the way ? I wonder how you're able to handle all of his energy if you can't even stand mine haha.

-Let me correct you ; I don't hate you. He stops for a moment then he adds. There is a man that I would like to kill.

You turn now, back against the wooden border of the ship. You had an amused look on your face, wondering who was that man that he wanted to take down ;

-Now that's interesting ! Let me guess, who is it ?

-You are quite curious yourself, (Y/N)-ya...

He thought it was only fair, you opened up to him, he opened up to you, but telling you the details wasn't for now.

-So you are using the strawhats ?

-I am not sure who is using who. And what is your reason for joing the strawhats ?

-Luffy, you said with dreamy eyes, it's the D in his name...I have been drawn to people with this letter in their names like a magnet...I don't know...I just believe it's fate...

He was startled by your answer, so you knew about the « D » letter ? He also had this letter in his name...He just added then, with a face that didn't betray his surprise ;

-Oh , a girl like you believes in such romantic stories ?

-And what is a girl like me like ? You added, amused. I mean, apart from annoying.

-...Quit it already.

His tone was stable as always. He didn't show it but he thought that it was cute of you, how you insisted and played along. You faced him, your eyes looking right into his and you weren't one to look down, oh no. Irisis into his irisis, looking for him and digging something into him. He didn't even know what you meant by such a look, once again, feline.

The salty smell of the ocean's water mixed with the odor of your fruity perfume made that moment a bit more enjoyable and he wasn't even the type of person to enjoy chatting.

Check mate, you made up for that horrible first impression. You added then ;

-You avoided my question by the way, why wouldn't I believe in « such romantic stories » ? What do you think you know about « a girl like me » ?

You got a bit closer, amused, and he thought that it was getting a bit dangerous. You had a fake woeful look in your eyes. His limbs were filled to the brim with that ocean perfume of yours mixed with that sweet taste, and for a second it was as if that odor operated some kind of spell over him, because a surprising thought occured to his mind ; what would your lips taste like ? Certainly salty like the ocean and a tad like peaches.

Unsettled and unfocused he said ;

-Shouldn't you be sleeping ?

In reality, he didn't want these thoughts to make a nest out of his head and decided to cut the conversation quite abruptly. Your rocked your body back, almost like a child and rose your eyebrows in a semi-sarcastic semi-dramatic way.

-I'm a bit too old for a bed time don't you think, Trafalgar ?

-Just Law.

-Yes yes ! L-a-w...See you tomorrow ! You're not as uptight as I thought.

-(Y/N)-ya.

He just said your name in a strict way, probably indicating that you needed to go. His tone was firm, stop teasing already.

You looked at him with a diminishing smile, pronouncing every single letter so slowly, stretching his name on your lips so that these three tiny letters seemed endless. You tossed your hair, and something about the whole situation, about your feminine charm, something about the breeze of the night made the both of you feel unbearable tension. The type of tension that happens between a man and a woman at three in the morning, that tension that makes every little detail, every look in the eyes, every brush of the fingers feel indecent.

The eyes of a woman can't lie, his ego was stroked as he thought he had a glimpse of your hidden desire.You turned to go back to the girl's quarters, his eyes still hanged on your silhouette. ----------- I hope that you liked this first part. Please tell me what you think. It is a great motivator to know that I’m writing and being read. <3 I wish you all a nice day !

[little-cereal-draws]

Random Marvel Headcannons. How about who's sleeping with who headcannons?

I haven't read a lot of the newer comics (aside from Moon Knight) lately. I used to be big into them. So let me ramble a bit while I think about this.

Many years ago Punisher had a van (Battle Van) and Micro (the tech guy that sat in his van and helped him get intel while he fought his war against everything. They were good...I won't say friends because Frank doesn't have friends, but they were close. Until Micro went evil (as most of the things Frank enjoys end up doing I guess). But he was a good van wife for Frank for a while. I miss that relationship.

Frank also adopted a kid once. Not like, adopted adopted. But this teenage kid found Frank and ran with him for a while. His name was Henry. Kid turned turned out to be the son of Billy Russo (Jigsaw) and Frank kicked him out, even though the kid hated his father and legit liked Frank. I miss that relationship too. Headcannon is that Frank adopted Henry and they became a found family and it was nice. Frank was a good father figure to him (as much as the Punisher could be a father figure anyways).

Headcannon Spiderman has dated everyone in the marvel universe. As Spiderman. See Spiderman and Daredevil getting ice cream cones together. See Spiderman and Frank Castle going to the batting cage (and Spiderman hitting the ball into the next city over, Frank is impressed). See Spiderman and Moon Knight going to the same movie three times because all Marc, Steven, and Jake wanted a turn. See Spiderman building a car in Tony's garage as they figure out a way to make it fly until they crash it.

NONE of them know who Spiderman is. Peter Parker hanging with MJ and is like, "Aw crap. Frank just got arrested again. I don't want to call Matt." And she's just, "Who?" and he looks over the news paper at her sheepishly. "My ex...and my other ex."

And then Matt shows up at the prison, pissed off because he has to get Frank, his own Ex, out of jail AGAIN. That's right. Frank and Matt are also my headcannon. But I mean, Matt is a slut (sorry to use that but he's a catholic slut in the most catholic way I can use that).

Now, in terms of dating (Comics only), Marc has dated everyone. Jake dated Frank because they both enjoyed the same diner and they both know the same people out on the streets. Jake picked him up in a cab once and helped him chase down some scumbag. Steven dated Dare Devil briefly. He then moved on to Tony because they met at some fancy social gathering, but Tony was too much and Steven was too uppity. Now he's in a relationship with Namor and he has no idea how it happened or how to get out of it because Namor is scary.

Jake dated Matt a few times. Matt is his lawyer and if you ask Matt, Matt will deny it, but Jake is constantly calling him to ask for advice and Matt's advice is "STOP BREAKING THE LAW ASSHOLE". ;) Jake just makes kissy faces at him and sends him terrible emoji texts with LOL at the end of them all.

I once wrote an incredibly long fic about Marc dating Bob (The Sentry), but I won't get into that because no one knows who The Sentry is. But trust me... It worked.

Deadpool? If you ask him, he's dated EVERYONE. They all deny it. Except for Cable, who insists they are married in some timeline somewhere but he doesn't want to talk about it. Deadpool and Spiderman have a bromance that defies logic. Marc pretends to hate Deadpool but he calls him up now and then and they go 'pretend to fight' so that he can let out some pent up anger on the man that can't be killed. "Same time next month?" Deadpool calls out each time Marc leaves.

Deadpool and Taskmaster slept together once. It's not something Taskmaster likes to talk about. He learned skills there that he wishes he could forget. Deadpool still has his sword.

Taskmaster once tried to get close to Steven Grant in an effort to get to know Moon Knight so he could find a weakness and get rid of him. He thought Steven might be the easiest side to break.

He was wrong. Steven is scary. Now when Taskmaster fights or comes across Moon Knight, he prays that Marc or Jake are the one in charge because if it's Steven he's going to have nightmares for months.

....Tony and Bruce bang. All the time. Constantly. Every change they get. Tony calls it BFF with benefits. Bruce calls it therapy.

Marc and Hulk are friends. Sometimes they go to those 'break everything' places and rent the place out. Then Hulk smashes and Marc lets loose. They've been banned from at least five of them. Hulk understands Marc's rage and mental health issues. Hulk has his own problems. They don't talk about them, but they sometimes sit in silence together and they find it calming.

Scott and Logan are in a poly relationship with Jean (when she's alive) and Emma. They don't like to talk about it. Emma doesn't give a shit. Logan once had a huge man crush on Captain America way back in the day during WW2. He had all his posters and lunch boxes and things. Steven is aware of it, but he won't bring it up out of respect for Logan. But he does think it's cute.

Jake made friends with Clint by accident. They go drinking together and shoot the shit when no one's around. They like to trash talk and gossip it up.

Doctor Doom and Namor are a power couple. (Seriously. Go look up the old comics. Dr. Doom kidnaps Namor SO MANY TIMES and is constantly begging Namor to join forces with him.)

Dr. Strange? He's had a one night stand with Tony, Bruce, Dr. Doom, Deadpool, and Nick Fury. Spiderman was a week long engagement.

In fact, no one is really sure when or why they broke it off with Spiderman. It's part of his charm. One moment they found themselves dating him and the next they weren't. No one's bitter about it (except for Deadpool who often shows up outside his window crying and playing bad guitar).

Everyone claims Natasha is the hand me around of the Avengers but she is the one that actually started that rumor. She finds it gives her some sort of street cred she can use in her missions. She's actually been in some pretty exclusive relationships that were serious. The REAL hand me around is Bucky. Bucky is proud of it. If you ask him, he'll tell you about the super romantic date he went on with Falcon last week. No one one night stands Bucky. It's all wine and dine. If he's going to sleep with someone, he wants to be treated right first. Steve just rolls his eyes and pretends not to notice.

.....am I forgetting anyone? Probably.

Why is this all so accurate??? Especially Spiderman dating everyone but breaking up with all of them somehow lol He just has those vibes. And Tony and Bruce... yeahhh. And the ENTIRE last paragraph is so so spot on! That's literally what happened and I'm so glad that other ppl have that characterization of Nat and Bucky lol

[themonsterblogofmonsters]

Love your blog, just curious about one thing. In canon, all cold water merpeople are considered to be less beautiful according to fantastic beasts, including selkies. But you’re interpretation is completely different of them, along with the addition of beautiful cold water mer like rusalki or morgens. Doesn’t that defy the laws of the HPverse?

That’s an interesting way to put it. “Defy the laws of HPverse”. You could call that for my inclusion of Fae and Yokai, for Arsatum, for magical substances, for my more non-canon classifications. For the times I’ve outright gone “NOPE” on some of JKR’s more ableist or transphobic worldbuilding.

I’m genuinely kind of curious why you’ve gone for the Mer here, honestly.

But, to answer your question in good faith - I think there’s a few directions to take it.

Firstly, I think that it’s interesting how it’s phrased. “Considered less beautiful”. That says to me, for one, that Newt disagrees, which makes sense given he dedicated his life to researching magical creatures and in the films, at least, seems to love them all so, and, for two, that it isn’t uniform or absolute across all wixes. “Considered” very much says that this is subjective, that this is a matter of belief... and consequently that this can vary quite a bit depending on who you were to ask.

Secondly, as well as the classical platitude of “beauty is in the eye of the beholder” I’d also say that “less beautiful” hardly means ugly. There’s Hollywood beautiful, there’s model beautiful - there’s homely pretty and striking aesthetics and people with desperately interesting faces that capture some and weird out others. Given that the statement is a generalisation, I prefer to take it as warmer-water Mer have more reason to interact with wixes and consequently have become more conventionally attractive. But conventional attractiveness in warmer water mer in no way precludes the possibility of people finding some form of beauty in their cold-water cousins.

Thirdly, I’d point out that the two cold water Mer you chose to specify are ones that are also Fae and ones I very much drew from their folkloric origins for. Rusalki especially are said to be beautiful and in a number of ways they bear similarities to the Vila from which JKR developed Veela and which are called beautiful in folklore and are stated to be so in canon. Morgens, I’d also point out, are found in France and Wales... and so are in (somewhat) warmer waters than the Black Lake Mer at Hogwarts, the Merrows around some of Ireland, or the Selkies in the North of Scotland. If we assume water temperature does definitively equate to the conventional attractiveness of a merperson, surely it would also be logical to assume a gradient - especially given the British Isles are warmed by the Gulf Stream, and so would quite certainly allow for the warmth to make some mer prettier, if it is so absolutely tied to temperature?

Fourthly... HPverse is built on themes. A lot of it is supposed to deliberately mirror our world, amplifying the good and the bad. There’s a reason I get narked when people (…Americans, it’s usually Americans) try to claim that their nation would have a better magical ministry than Britain and that Britain’s is just closed-minded and isolationist. The way that the Ministry of Magic is shown to be in HP is deliberately modelled on some of JKR’s own supposed experiences with Britain’s government. The whole magical world is, the good and the bad. Consequently, so too should every magical nation resemble their muggle counterpart in the good and the bad. Following that, I suspect that the idea of warmer water Mer being more attractive is kind of following another common belief in Britain at the time - the whole idea of beach babes, California girls, holidays to Ibiza and all that. Hot countries, hot girls and all that rubbish. That hardly makes it true.

Like I said - both good and bad. Belief does not create reality. It just shapes how we interpret it.

Fifthly - My goal in this blog was not to outright contradict canon; when information we’re given is from an individual who may be sharing an opinion, a generalisation, a second-hand story, when they may be mistaken or confused or outright lying (not that I think Newt is lying; I am simply stating options in general) - then I see no reason not to consider alternative interpretations or possibilities in order to build the world out. I’m generally not trying to say “canon is wrong and I know better”, not least because I think that’s crass and arrogant. Like I said with regards to this question, so too with canon’s worldbuilding: I try to take it in good faith. Sometimes I can’t. That doesn’t make my every twist away from canon a bad faith choice. Sometimes I just think it’s fun.

Sixthly, I’m kind of interested by your claim that my interpretation is “completely different”. I hardly say that the Black Lake Mer are stunning beauties. I don’t call them Selkies, because I wanted to include the folkloric Selkies and I loved the GoF depiction of the Black Lake Mer too much to just toss their design away. So I said “both exist, and they’re distinct”. I certainly write this blog in the perspective of someone who tries to find the wonder and brilliance in every part of the magical world, even the grosser and more horrifying parts, but I mean... this is The Monster Blog of Monsters. Semi-mickey-take of The Monster Book of Monsters. I’m not claiming to be an absolute or unbiased source; there’s a reason I try to frame things as claims from here or there or elsewhere entirely. There’s a reason I’ll listen to criticism and rewrite things and try to improve from my past creations. There’s a reason I’m taking a long-as-heck hiatus right now (honestly, there’s several of them and JKR’s recent nonsense is only a part of it).

And lastly, Seventhly, for seven is the number of magic - it’s JKR who created those rules. JKR. Outright transphobe. Some of you (TERFs) are going to say I shouldn’t dismiss her for just that - but okay, what about the ableism in Illness & Disability, the homophobia in how she handled Lycanthropy, the antisemitism in her depiction of Goblins or the flat out racism in her depiction of Native Americans in her Ilvermorny piece? How much she intended all of those (I am personally inclined to believe she did not intend it for the first three, I am less sure about the fourth given she blocked people who offered to help her improve the piece and make it less racist) only matters so much when she has so much influence and that influence has so clearly shaped people’s lives and opinions. There are people who compare modern real-life politics to Harry Potter events, for crying out loud. JKR has plenty of money and she can (and I do believe has) funnelled that money to groups that are kind of terrible! Consequently I consider her to be kind of terrible. And sure, she rules HPverse. She decides, she lays down the lore, as it were.

But you know, this is headcanon - fanfic of a kind and thus transformative and thus I can do what I want - and also, why should I obey the rulings of someone who believes that certain actual living people that exist shouldn’t have the rights and healthcare they need to have wonderful, fulfilling lives?

[trashyswitch]

Jeremy Meets Helpy

Chapter 2: Helpy Visits Jeremy Again

Jeremy wakes up one day to Helpy being not only alive and well, but even homeless. So Jeremy takes the little bear under his wing and keeps the bear as a child-like friend.

Jeremy waited patiently for Helpy to return. He worked, came home, and grew a little disappointed everyday that Helpy didn’t come. Tonight was another one of those nights. Helpy didn’t return and Jeremy, again, felt hurt by it. It’s been 3 weeks since Helpy left him. And every day felt more and more sad. Jeremy decided to just hop into bed and sleep his sadness away. He wanted Helpy back really badly, but he knew he was probably very busy.

So...he slept the day away...waiting for Helpy to return...

[The next morning]

Jeremy groaned and slowly started to wake up. The sun had woken him more than he expected.

“Mornin’ Jemy!” something said to him.

Wait...Jemy?!

WAIT A SECOND-

“HELPY?!” Jeremy got up, pulled his covers off and ran to the kitchen. But…

The kitchen was empty.

“Mmmmph! Mmm mmmph!” something said all muffled.

Jeremy turned around and immediately noticed that the blankets were moving. The blankets were flopping around and...shaking like a dog?

Jeremy walked up to the pile of blankets that he just threw off himself, and removed the covers.

The purple bear that was standing there, threw his arms up. “JEMY!”

“HELPY!” Jeremy picked up the bear and spun around with the bear up in the air. Helpy let out little cheers and whooos of excitement as the bear flew around in Jeremy’s arms. Then, Jeremy brought Helpy into a BIG bear hug. “I missed you so much!” Jeremy told him. Jeremy removed him from his arms. “Don’t ever leave like that again! I didn’t know when you were gonna come back! I didn’t know what happened to you, or if you were broken, lost, hurt-” Jeremy was tearing up and starting to cry. “Don’t do that again...please.” Jeremy begged.

“Helpy okay. Helpy here.” The bear told him, placing both its hands onto Jeremy’s. “Helpy miss you.” The bear admitted.

Jeremy smiled through his tears. “Jemy missed you too…a lot.” Jeremy admitted back.

“Helpy home. for ever.” Helpy told him.

“Really?” Jeremy asked, not fully believing it.

“Yeah! Helpy stay now for ever!” Helpy declared.

Jeremy looked at him with some hope in his eyes. “Are you sure? Don’t you...have a home?” Jeremy asked.

“Jemy home. Henry friend.” Helpy said.

Henry? As in…

“Henry Emily?” Jeremy asked.

Helpy looked at him with his eyebrows raised in...sadness. Then, the bear looked down. “Henry…”

Jeremy blinked and realized that Helpy was feeling more than just sad...he was distressed!

Jeremy quickly grabbed this week’s newspaper from the table and opened it to look for some clues on the matter. Anything to tell him what he was sad for. But all he could find was an article on...a building fire that killed two people and...roughly 50 animatronics?!

Jeremy gasped and covered his mouth...Henry was one of the deaths…

And Helpy was mourning him!

“Oh Helpy…” Jeremy wrapped his arms around Helpy and hugged him tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Henry...Henry dead...Helpy sad…” Helpy told him.

Jeremy held onto him and cuddled him as he mourned for a while. Helpy was holding onto Helpy for a while, looking sad. Jeremy wasn’t sure if Helpy was actually feeling sadness, or whether his sadness was simulated. But that didn’t matter to Jeremy. He knew that Helpy was experiencing sadness and needed time to mourn.

“Okay. Helpy better. Home with Jemy!” Helpy declared.

“I...Really? You’re actually over it now?” Jeremy reacted.

“Helpy better. Play play play!” Helpy declared happily.

“Play?! Already? I need to eat some breakfast first, little man!” He reacted.

“Picky ups?” Helpy asked.

Jeremy giggled and nodded. “Okay.” Jeremy picked up Helpy, carried him to the kitchen and grabbed a banana for breakfast.

“Nana!” Helpy reacted.

“Yup...a banana.” Jeremy replied.

Jeremy carried Helpy around while he ate the banana bit by bit. The banana was a little soft and brown, but it was at its best state: with spotted brown on the yellow peel.

As soon as the spotted peel was thrown into the garbage, Jeremy lifted Helpy up, and cuddled him into his arms like a baby. While being held, Jeremy tickled the animatronics little belly. “Tickle time for Helpy!” Jeremy declared.

“Tihihihihicklehehes fohohor hehehelpyhyhy!” He reacted, covering his mouth with both his hands.

“Kitchy kitchy kitchy kitchy koo!” Jeremy teased him.

Belly giggled and rolled all around like a little panda bear. He looked so happy to be tickled like this! It was evident on Helpy’s little cheeky grin. Helpy looked to Jeremy with appreciation in his eyes.

Then, he got up. “Oh oh oh! Cuddle tickles!” He declared. “Cuddle tickles cuddle tickles!”

“Oookaaay!” Jeremy grabbed Helpy into his arms and started skittering his fingers all over Helpy’s sides and belly. Helpy squealed and giggled loudly. He wiggled and clapped his arms around while kicking his feet like a wild animal.

Oh…wait…he’s supposed to be modeled after a bear.

Riiiiight.

Jeremy booped Helpy’s little nose, and jumped in surprise the moment his little nose made a squeak! Helpy’s nose squeaks too?! What a surprise! Helpy was seriously an entire package of cute created to fit one being! And it was such a joy!

Jeremy resumed tickling Helpy for a little bit longer. He went for his sides like he usually did, and even went for his armpits for a few minutes.

“EEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! JEHEHEHEMYYY!” Helpy laughed.

“What? Ticklish much?” Jeremy teased.

“YEHEHEHEHES! VEHERY TIHIHICKLIHIHISH!” Helpy laughed.

Jeremy nodded and moved down to Helpy’s rib area. “Here. Is that better?” Helpy asked.

Helpy nodded and leaned his head against Jeremy’s chest. “Yehehehah. Behehetter.” He replied calmly.

Jeremy held onto Helpy for a little while and started singing a little tune he remembered from when he was younger. He was so happy and thankful to have Helpy back with him. It was like a big brick fell right off his shoulders and into the abyss. Any sign of the brick had fallen away. He felt like a feather...He felt like he could maybe even fly with Helpy around him.

Helpy was more than just a companion for him. Helpy was like the best friend he’s been yearning for since he was younger. It was a big blessing to have such a complicated robot as a best friend. You wouldn’t be able to tell if any of the feelings were true or simulated. So, you’d just handle them like you’d handle any human emotion: With love and understanding.

“Hehehehelpy tihihicklehed ohohout nohohow.” Helpy told him.

Jeremy snapped out of his thoughts and very quickly stopped tickling him.

“My turn to tickle!” Helpy moved to Jeremy’s belly, lifted the shirt up, and blew a BIG raspberry onto his belly.

“eeEEEEEK!” Jeremy squealed, falling flat onto his back.

“Tickles tickles tickles!” Helpy fluttered his left hand fingers on Jeremy’s sensitive tummy and squeezed his left side with his right hand.

“OHOHOHO MAHAHAHAN! YOHOHOU GOHOHOT MEHEHEHE!” Jeremy declared.

“I gotcha! You my tickle me Jemy!” Helpy told him.

Jeremy laughed even more at that. Did he just reference those Tickle Me Elmo’s?!

“Oh, I’m your tickle me elmo now?” Jeremy asked.

“Tickle tickle tickle!” Helpy declared, tickling his belly again.

“EEEhehehehehahahahahahaha! Yohohou’re juhuhust mahahakihing uhup for lost tihihime!” Jeremy reacted.

Helpy nodded and took in a deep breath. He blew a big raspberry onto Jeremy’s belly, defying all the laws of animatronic logic in 5 seconds or less.

“EEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEHEY! HOHOHOW AHAHARE YOHOHOHOU-” Jeremy yelped as he fell to the floor from all the tickles.

“Surprise!” Helpy yelled happily, standing in front of Jeremy’s face. “Lost time tickles! Jemy tickles!” Helpy shoved his hand into Jeremy’s armpit and skittered all over.

Jeremy was a cackling, wiggling mess…

Indeed, Jeremy was a big wig-waggling mess…

And we all know Jeremy was a wabble-jabbling mess of a being then…

[That night:]

Jeremy was groaning and covering his ears. There were so many people honking their horns in the middle of the street that night...

Wait...Where was Helpy?

Jeremy took off his eye cover and looked around for the bear. “Helpy?”

He looked around the room while more beeping sounds went off on the road from the living room window. He groaned and slowly covered his ears again. The beeping sounds were getting louder and closer to his room…

Wait…

Jeremy looked up and noticed the bear standing at the door. “Oh...Hi Helpy.”

Another honk went off from the window.

{HONK HONK} Helpy’s horn went.

Jeremy groaned and covered his eyes. “What are you doing honking this time a night?”

Another honk went off.

{HOOOOOONK!}

Jeremy growled and held his head. “Stop honking at the cars!”

“They honk first!”

“They’re-...They’re honking at the cars to go faster. They’re not honking at you-”

{HONK HOOOONK!}

*Honk!*

Helpy laughed. “Hahahaha! I honk first!”

Jeremy growled and walked up. “Come on Helpy. Off to bed.”

“No!” Helpy honked his horn in his face.

“OOW! MY EARS!” Jeremy yelled, dropping the bear.

Helpy fell onto the ground with a loud crack sound filling the room for only a second…

Jeremy sighed. His neck broke again. “Greeeeat. Come on Helpy...Fix your neck.” Jeremy ordered. “Then let’s sleep for a while. And no more honking.”

Helpy nodded and snapped his neck back in place like he usually did. Then, Helpy walked himself to Jeremy and raised his arms up. “Up up up?”

Jeremy smiled and knelt down, picking up the bear and placing him on his hip like he would for a toddler.

“Ready for beddy bye?” Jeremy asked. “Would you like me to read you a story? I might have some old classic books in my bookshelf to read to you.” Jeremy asked.

Helpy nodded his head. “Story! Story!”

Jeremy grabbed an old fairytale from his bookshelf and dusted it off a little. It was an old copy of the Paddington Bear story.

Jeremy sat his pillow up and sat down with Helpy in his arm. “A Bear Named Paddington...By Michael Bond and Peggy Fortnum.” Jeremy read the cover.

“Bear!” Helpy reacted, pointing to the bear on the cover.

“Yeah, that’s a bear. A brown bear, to be specific. He used to ride a train and would stop at Paddington Station in London, England, in the UK.” Jeremy explained.

Jeremy flipped to the first page. “Mr. and Mrs. Brown first met Paddington on a railway platform. In fact, that was how he came to have such an unusual name for a bear, for Paddington was the name of the station.” Jeremy read.

“Choo choo!” Helpy said as Jeremy paused.

“Yup! Choo choo!” Jeremy imitated before resuming to read. “The Browns were there to meet their daughter Judy, who was coming home from school for the holidays. It was a warm summer day and the station was crowded with people on their way to the seaside…”

Jeremy kept on reading the book for a long while till he finished it up. He had grown quite fond of such an old classic, and had forgotten how nostalgic it made him feel. Jeremy closed the book and found that Helpy had shut himself down halfway through the book. Jeremy smiled and laid the bear down, before placing the book onto the bedside table and laying down. With Helpy being a new roommate of sorts, Jeremy treated him like a special little Paddington bear of his own. Despite the robotic features, Helpy was a little like a toddler in his eyes. And Jeremy wa so glad to have him...forever now.

Also, this is now a series, known as Jeremy Meets!

[sweetestlamb]

Sweet Like Honey

A Haniri story

The repetitive pangs of Moonlight Sonata cascade from the grand piano as her fingers dance across smooth black and white keys, dadadadadada she hardly thinks about where to place her fingers because the song is so deeply ingrained in her memory. It was her mother's dream to be a pianist but then she'd come along kicking and screaming and that dream evaporated just like her father who was just a boy himself, both at the tender age of seventeen. He'd gone across town for work and just never returned, her mother never spoke about him but her sobs were more than audible at nights.

So she started playing the piano to drown out the sorrowful sound and eventually just to see that hopeful smile that would glide across her mother's tired face whenever she played. She was good, better than her mother had ever been. And when her mother would ask her if she wanted to be a pianist she would shake her little head in agreement, even though the book on coding she hid under her pillow pressed into her shoulder when she slept at night.

Vincenzo's sharp alpha scent knocks her from her reminiscing, the mafia member flooding her nostrils with his overbearing smoky scent it made her sniffle and wipe futilely at her nose. She could pick up Cha-young pungent vanilla scent cutting through the fire and smoke and creating an aroma that was perfectly them. She'd never met a double alpha pair before them, there were no regulations but most alphas couldn't stand the scent of another, and especially not enough to date. But the two seemed to gravitate towards each other on a level that defied logic. She'd caught them scenting each other several times so it was evident that contrary to science they enjoyed the other's smell enough to drench themselves in it. It was difficult sometimes for her to deal with but she had gotten used to their unusual mingling scent.

But then her nose twitches again. There's something else. Sniffing the air she stands up almost in a trance because there's another underlying scent that she's never smelled before.

Honey and oatmeal and something saccharine sweet that she can't explain, can't put into words but it's the most deliciously invigorating scent she has ever had the pleasure of inhaling in her life.

Walking quickly she tugs open the sliding door of her piano academy, urgently needing to know where that intoxicating scent is coming from and as the door slams open she comes face to face with him, the ex- fake Babel CEO turned Jipuragi understudy and the one that Cassano-nim has taken to calling "hyung". It isn't the first time she has noticed him, since the death of his brother he'd practically moved in. He was pretty, distractingly so with long curling lashes that covered huge siren eyes and those plush pink lips. She'd avoided him for that very reason. She didn't need any complications and that's all relationships were.

But something was different today, he had never smelled like that before. She would have noticed and probably jumped him or at least propositioned him. Begged him to left her do anything he wanted.

She looks over at Vincenzo, confused by her own thoughts and Han Seo's new scent but he gives her a sharp piercing look that does nothing to answer her question.

"Were you the one playing the piano? That was moonlight sonata right? That was one of my mom's favorite songs." The sweet smelling man speaks either truly oblivious or ignoring the tension between the two alphas as they stare each other down. For some reason Vincenzo standing so close to the wide eyed man makes her skin tighten, her alpha brain growling threateningly. She has to suppress a deep groan, barely containing the sound of warning. Reprimanding herself she takes a deep breath, she doesn't want to challenge Vincenzo despite what her body thinks.

"Are you okay?" Why are you both so quiet?" Han Seo tries again pouting now as both alphas ignore him.

"I'm fine." She chokes out faltering in the face of his displeasure, she desperately wants to replace that frown on his face so much it's making her head spin.

"You don't look okay. Do you have a fever? You're pretty red."

And the man must not know correct etiquette or how to interact with alphas because he reaches out a hand to palm her forehead, unconsciously offering his wrist and she can't help but scent him drawing in a nose full of that enticing aroma but at the first touch of his hand on her skin a current of lighting courses through her blood stream. 

Mate. Mate. Mate.

It punches the air from her lung. The longing is so immediate and visceral, she lunges for him needing to be closer, to hold him and taste him; makes him submit to her. But then another scent snuffs her in the jaw.

Fear. Bubbling rotting fear.

When her vision she sees his face scrunched up in terror, his hand drawn back against his side as he backs away from her.

But how could that be? He should have felt it too. I'm his mate, why is he scared of me?

She stares at him trying to make sense of everything that is happening. How could she have been the only one to feel that electricity? It was so powerful she was still feeling it.

"Miri-ah. I think you should go back inside. I don't want to hurt you." Vincenzo steps in front of her mate and her hackles raise instantly, the urge to fight overwhelming her and she takes a step forward in clear challenge. Vincenzo is strong, a true alpha but she has no doubt that she can take him in this moment. Her mating rage giving her newfound energy and boundless strength, she would do anything to protect her mate. Anything.

She bares her teeth viciously but then a soft whimper assaults her ears and it drains all the fight out of her body.

He's scared. She's scaring her mate.

Taking a deep calming breath she shakes off the fog, finally regaining control. Without a word she backs into her piano studio, proverbial tail between her legs. Staring at Han Seo the entire way unable to look away from his beseeching gaze, his quivering glossy eyes are watching her too. It takes very ounce of her control not to attack Vincenzo as he casually places a hand on the man's shoulder to steer him away, too far from her.

She watches them disappear down the long hallway moving to follow her mate. It's obvious from his gesticulating arms that he's asking the other alpha animated questions but she can't hear them.

Just as they reach the law firm, Han Seo suddenly stops and looks back at her over his shoulder. His eyes are searching and perplexed. She would hack whoever was necessary to help him find the answer to any question he ever had. Despite their circumstances not even a minute ago he unexpectedly smiles at her, a small confused thing before he disappears behind the doors.

What the hell was going on?

[theonethatwatchesalotofshows]

Ranking every teen drama I've watched

I have gotten really into teen dramas lately, because it's quarantine I can't go out and have fun, but I can still watch other people my age going out and having fun and doing things I don't get to do. Anyway I haven't seen all teen dramas, I was never interested in supernatural ones, so you won't find Vampire Diaries and similar shows on this list.

From worst to best:

The Secret Life of the American Teenager

I will never understand how this show ran for five seasons. It will forever remain a mystery to me. This show is so bad it's good. The writing resembles a wattpad story, Amy's pregnancy is inconsistent (like how was she five months pregnant for like five or six episodes, aren't the episodes supposed to be set a week apart?), the acting is bad (that is not to say that Molly Ringwald or Shailene Woodley are bad actresses, obviously they're not, I'm talking about Amy's sister that has the same facial expression no matter what her mood is supposed to be), some of the views this show expresses are very old-fashioned and damaging (the madonna-whore binary, the fact that they can't even utter the word abortion) and every single male character on this show is a creep and a cheater. I can't believe I watched like thirteen episodes of this. I will never get that time back.

Weirdest moment: "I'm a whore!" "Well, you're my whore." (Was this supposed to be romantic??)

Best moment: none

Glee

This is going to be unpopular and don't get me wrong, I like Glee, but I feel like the writers put much more thought into the musical numbers than the storylines. Again, Quinn's pregnancy is inconsistent (but I'm starting to think TV shows are always inconsistent about pregnancies), the characters don't look like they're in high school at all, the cheerleaders wear their uniforms 24/7 for no reason (Quinn even wore it to her sonogram, like seriously?) the whole celibacy club thing is weird and Mr Schue is a terrible teacher. However, the visuals and the musical numbers are great, Sue Sylvester is iconic (albeit also a terrible teacher) and some of the scenes are really emotional (Kurt singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand made my sister cry) so overall, it's pretty good.

Weirdest moment: Finn praying to grilled cheese (what??)

Best moment: Quinn giving birth to Bohemian Rhapsody, Kurt singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand

Dawson's Creek

I LOVE their 90s' outfits and Joey and Pacey are really otp material, but I just can't stand Dawson! He got mad that Joey didn't tell him about his mother's affair, as if it was her place to get involved. She was 15! It's understandible she didn't want to get tangled into that mess. He also slut-shamed Jen in a really gross way. He literally stopped talking to her for a day when he found out she isn't a virgin. Why are both Joey and Jen into this guy?? This would've been a much better show if it was called Joey's Creek or Pacey's Creek.

Weirdest moment: the way Dawson's mom confessed her affair to her husband. I don't think any irl human would use this choice of words. Also that scene where Dawson's father was teaching him how to kiss while Joey was watching. Cringe.

Best moment: any time Joey and Pacey are bickering. My shipper heart!

Pretty Little Liars

I loved the book version of this, but the TV version seems way too dramatic. First of all, they romanticized Aria and Ezra's relationship (ewww) and made the whole thing seem much more overdramatic. I don't know how to explain it, I mean the books are also dramatic but the TV show somehow took it to a whole new level. None of the girls look like they're in high school, but I love the way they dress and do their makeup. It's almost as though the writers put more thought into their outfits than storylines. I still loved watching it until Netflix took it off, though.

Weirdest moment: Spencer somehow trying to block A's number from her laptop in the middle of a park and then being confused that it didn't work. Weren't you supposed to be the smart one, Spencer?

Best moment: Haleb in the shower, hiding from Hanna's mom.

Skins

This is a classic. Effy is iconic (I somehow heard about her even before watching Skins) and the musical number at the end of season 1 was out of nowhere but still somehow fit perfectly into the story. I also give this show point for being one of the few TV shows where teen characters are actually played by real life teens. They look their age, talk their age (no "I reject reality" or other cringy lines like that) and aren't unrealistically perfect like characters from American teen dramas tend to be. They look like people you might actually meet in high school. However the show loses points for all the continuity errors (are 8 episodes supposed to be the whole school year??) and the number of unneccessary death/tragic accidents. It seemed kind of over-the-top and unneccessarily dark and brutal at times.

Weirdest moment: Chris's graphic death

Best moment: Wild World

Euphoria

The Gen Z American version of Skins, but with better visuals. Much better. I loved the aesthetic, the colors, the lighting and glitter. Zendaya's a great actress and I give this show points for casting an actual trans actress in the role of Jules. However I find it weird that all guys on this show are complete irredeemable assholes (except of Jules's dad and Ethan that is). Are we supposed to just root for the girls and not the guys? Also I find it hard to believe that any of these characters are actually 16/17. They have sex all the time (yeah teenagers have sex sometimes but on this show they treated Kat as some kind of a chaste nun for being a virgin at 16) and have seemingly no rules and no curfew. It would've been much more believable if they were in college.

Weirdest moment: Nate breaking into Tyler's house, beating him up and then taking a shower. The audacity this guy has!

Best moment: "You did this to me!" and Rue having an anxiety attack on the stage in theater class

Gossip Girl

I know this is also an unpopular opinion, because many claim Gossip Girl is the best teen drama ever, but for me it just got way too soapy as the seasons went on. The first two seasons were believable, even though they didn't really look like they were in high school, but after that it was just more and more weird plot points. I will give this show points for the fashion (I mean Blair's headbands and school uniform inspired a fashion line), the acting ("I killed someone"- iconic) and the choice of background music (Nate and Serena kissing to Paparazzi, Thanksgiving with Watcha Say). Despite the wild twists and turns of events, I just had to keep watching because this show had me hooked.

Weirdest moment: Bart Bass somehow flying off the building for no reason (seriously, what he did there had no logical explanation and defied laws of physics), Dan being Gossip Girl, Bart faking his death and returning more evil than before, Serena becoming Gossip Girl, the affidavit, everyone randomly stopping going to college... there are so many but Bart takes the cake I guess

Best moment: the Thanksgiving flashbacks from season 1, Dan placing a plastic crown on Blair's head

Freaks and Geeks

This is one of the few shows where high school is depicted realistically. It's not all glitter and parties and not everyone has sex and does drugs. Okay, I admit, the bullying was over the top and it was weird how no adults cared but other than that, it was pretty spot-on. It was emotional without being too dramatic and far-fetched and also had funny moments. Yes some of the characters may have been stereotypes but at least the show seemed self-aware of that. It's truly a shame we only got 18 episodes of this show, while The Secret Life of the American Teenager somehow got five seasons??? I don't get it.

Weirdest moment: when Cindy suddenly got super mean once she started dating Sam

Best moment: Daniel showing up at Kim's doorstep, Sam breaking down in tears in the end of 'Garage Door'

Gilmore Girls

I'm not sure this one counts as a teen drama, maybe it's more of a dramedy but I'm still including it here. It's funny, the dialogue is witty and full of obscure pop-culture references and the relationships between generations complex. Same as with Freaks and Geeks, the portrayal of high school is pretty realistic. Characters are shown studying and taking tests and not just partying all the time. However the show loses points for getting weirdly soapy in the 7th season. The dialogue wasn't as good and the camera angles were soap opera like and the storylines weren't very good either. You could really tell the show changed show-runners. The earlier seasons are the best. It's hard to explain but something about them feels cozy like a warm blanket and a cup of hot chocolate on a rainy day.

Weirdest moment: Lorelai marrying Chris and then making the whole "you're the man I want to want" speech, Lorelai defending and loving Dean for no reason

Best moment: Rory's graduation speech, Rory yelling at Chris and calling him out for not having been there for her, Then She Appeared, "Yes Emily, you may go first"... there are so many!

[neonponders]

I FINALLY uploaded again to my first Harringrove fic ever, so here’s an easy way to read ch. 1 since a lot of people here don’t know me from Dracula Has a Mullet haha

Read on ao3 here ~

💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋

The discovery that Billy Hargrove is a vampire came at a weird time in a weird way. It’s just not everyday that you walk in on someone fingering Alexandra O’Neil with their teeth—fangs—in her tit.

There were stranger things in Hawkins, unfortunately. Unfortunately? How fortunate is a vampire?

“For fuck’s sake. Really?”

Billy has the grace to extract his freaking teeth with a semblance of being surprised. “I didn’t know you had that kind of mouth, Harrington.”

Steve waves a scolding finger at him with all the gusto of a drunk, and he has the solo cup to justify it. “Put those away! She was homecoming queen last year. Jesus, have some class.”

“You serious?”

Steve downed the last of his beer and Jäger with a grimace, his voice going raspy. “Look, I’m not one to judge a lady’s standards, but really, Alex…Alex?”

The lady in question was so blissed out she looked like one of those unnaturally stupid women in every Dracula movie. Billy actually moved aside as Steve pulled her away from the wall—away from Billy—to try and talk to her. Righting her dress with quick yanks, he covered her gorgeous, if small, breasts and gave her a shake. “Alex! Hey!”

He could hear—could feel it, more like—Billy moving behind him in the dark room. Steve had come up here hoping to claim the guest room before someone used it to hookup from the party downstairs. It wouldn’t be the first time he woke up from a mid-party nap to someone being blown, but sometimes it’s the price one pays for free liquor and an ounce of decent sleep.

“What’s wrong with her standards? Huh, King Steve?”

The voice is right behind him, so close that the damn vampire has to rear backwards when Steve whirls around. “What kind of vamp name is Billy? Wait, that’s short for something—”

“If you call me by anything else, I’ll hang you from the ceiling by your teeth.”

“You’re not charming like vampires,” Steve practically complained. “Gotta work on that. Everyone gossips here. Folks will know you’re toothy like…” He fumbled a clumsy but sharp snap of his fingers.

Billy made a derisive sound before his voice crooned, “Seems like I’m flying just fine under the vampire radar, then.”

He was heaving Alex back up from where she had slumped against the dresser when Steve released her. Steve raked a hand through his hair, thinking. It was a slog through the alcohol, but he surmised that he could not take her away from this guy. Case being: Steve was far too drunk to logically drive, and to where? It was her house.

“You. You gotta go.”

Billy huffed one of his low, mirthless laughs. Instead of setting Alex nicely on the bed, he just kind of dumped her there. She let out a sort of dumb-giddy moan as she face planted a pillow and he faced Steve. “Excuse me?”

“You’re, like, biting people at a party!” Steve realized somewhere between his tone and his slight—or perhaps exaggerated, it was hard to tell at this point—sway, that Billy was far more sober than he felt.

Not the time to play hero but whatever.

Billy slowly stepped toward him. “There’s plenty worse at this shit house than me, Harrington. Worst weed I’ve ever had. And that shit whiskey’s been so watered down, it’s nothing but wheat water.”

“Hey!” Steve was poking two fingers at him before he meant to. “They just renovated the place and I got well paid for the tiling and paint!”

“So you’re the reason everyone’s been tripping over the same spot in the kitchen?” Billy huffed.

“And the whiskey’s not so bad if you chase it with grape juice. It’s like toast and jam water. Whatever, no one’s here for your holier-than-thou, California bullshit!”

Billy was caught by surprise that time. His whole expression lifted, brows and eyes widening as he repeated, “Holier. Than. Thou. That’s the kind of shit you pick up from books. I didn’t know the king could read.”

“Fuck off,” Steve grimaced, really just wanting to get Alex tucked into bed and maybe join her. “You’ve been riding me ever since you got here.”

“I definitely have not been doing that,” Billy retorted and then smiled. “What, you offering?”

“Was she?” Steve cornered, drawing himself up to his full height. Admittedly, not much taller than Billy, but small victories lead to great heights or something.

Billy wiped his mouth and Steve’s eyes plummeted to those lips. “Yeah, she was. She pulled me upstairs, or is that so hard to believe, blue balls?”

“It kind of is, yeah,” Steve said with his hands on his hips. “Alex has asthma. Like, inhaler tucked in her bra at prom in case the slow dance was too much. She’d never get with a chain smoker like you.”

“She would if her high school sweetheart cheated on her with the first college bitch he found.” One of Billy’s eyebrows perked up with his shrug. “I’m a favorite for ladies looking for a rebound.”

Steve grimaced. “Derek cheated? How do you know that?”

“That’s between her and me,” Billy said, stepping forward again. “But I hear you’ve been due for a rebound for a while, Harrington.”

He didn’t want to talk about Nancy. It wasn’t even Nancy, really, but he didn’t want to talk about anything regarding his sex life or lack thereof. Steve diverted, “I want you to leave. Go find someone else to—whatever the hell this is.”

“Well. You’re right here.”

“Not me, dumbass. I told you to leave the house.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Billy smiled. “What? You’ll let me beat the shit out of you again? We had an audience last time too.”

“I wouldn’t be too cocky about last time,” Steve groaned, beginning to take a step back. “The way I hear it, Jonathan had to mop you off the floor after—”

Billy wasn’t listening. His eyes were on Steve’s neck and the only gut wrenching, instinctive thought Steve had was weapon. It came in the form of a glass lamp, which he wrenched out of the wall to break over Billy’s head.

The hard thud of thick glass hitting before the shatter and glass raining over the floor had Steve gaping at him. Billy stood very still. Way too still. Steve wondered if he had knocked him out, but his legs hadn’t unbuckled yet.

Then Billy lifted dark eyes beneath his mess of a fringe, pupils blown wide. Steve continued to stare at him with the mechanical parts of the lamp still in his hand. “Holy shit, you didn’t even flinch! You’re supposed to dodge when furniture’s coming at you—”

Billy gripped the wrist holding the parts and wrenched him so far that Steve couldn’t react to Billy’s other hand on his pants. Heaving him up by his belt, he slammed Steve onto the table from which the lamp had originated. Music thrummed around them, the very beams in the walls vibrating. Steve defied the laws of his denim pants by folding his leg against his side to kick Billy in the gut. Ragged sounds from both of them went unheard by the party below. Steve slid like a heavy tablecloth to the floor with Billy likewise winded and crouched in front of him.

“Why…” Steve tried, rubbing his chest and hoping his talking lasted long enough for him to decide whether running or trying to pin Billy down was the best decision. “…can’t you just…not do this? Whatever alpha bullshit game you think life is.”

“Some of us don’t want to go through life with your dashing prince crap,” Billy spat.

“You think I’m dashing? I couldn’t tell, I passed out the last time you punched me in the face.”

Billy laughed. “Yeah. You’re just as soft as I remember.”

He was moving again and Steve felt a wild, foolish—downright stupid—thrill to try something else. “You need to leave, man. Really. I know a party of blackout graduates might seem like easy pickings, but Hawkins is different.”

“You don’t know shit about different,” Billy growled. “You’ve never seen grass outside this bum fuck of a town.”

“I’ve been to Disney World. And New York City. There’s gotta be some hospital nurse you can swoon into letting you raid their blood bank?”

He couldn’t tell if Billy was getting angrier or not. The man was always angry, seemed like. “I’m not drinking from a freezer. Now shut the hell up. You’ll enjoy this like your homecoming queen.”

A last ditch effort, diving in the direction of the door, but it wasn’t the first time Billy had been on top of him with murder in his eyes. Steve’s hands fumbled at Billy’s face, but then his wrists were pinned above his head and a panicked whine escaped as Billy’s hot, humid breath found him.

Steve went slack. They always do. Billy had figured out that something in his teeth or saliva sedated those he bit, and more. A whole lot more. It made a good flirt into a hell of a time. Alexandra of the Hawkins Homecoming Court had already come on his finger when Steve, of all people, waltzed right in.

It made hunting annoying. It made hunting fun. He had to be picky; didn’t want anyone he couldn’t look at for longer than three minutes moaning all over him while he tried to feed. His looks did most of the work. The right dash of charm here, a nice compliment there, and then his fangs did the rest.

Steve was hard under him. Billy felt the distinct push of his jeans against his own ass while he slid his fingers under Steve’s nape. Lifting his neck, he made sure the moron’s windpipe stayed open, as well as lifted his meal closer to his mouth—

A strange sound came from Steve. Billy’s eyes flicked to his face, but when that labored breathing sound happened again, he sat up and stared. Steve was crying.

This had never happened before. Those doe eyes that all the girls had ranted about when he first drove into Hawkins were red and squinted as moisture slid over his temples. Billy even checked to make sure he wasn’t sitting too heavily on his dick or something, but the gears of his brain slid into place.

Steve usually wore sunglasses at parties. Billy couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “Are you a drunk crier, Harrington? Hey, I’m talking to you.”

He gripped Steve’s jaw, but his whole head lolled, those eyes barely finding him through the daze. “I just wanna sleep,” he said quietly. Fresh tears raced into his hair as he passed out.

[westallenfun]

Two's Company (1/3)

Westallen secret santa gift

For: Lauren (@backtothestart02) (I hope you like this fic!)

From: Lina (@cheryls-blossomed)

A/N: A special thank you to my beta, Caroline (@ginandweas). 

Inspired by Jane Austen’s Emma, and the blissfulness and hardship of tumbling into true love. On the eve of publication of the most important article of her professional career thus far, Iris West realizes that she is head over heels in love with her best friend, Barry Allen, but grapples with revealing her true feelings, for fear of completely ruining their friendship. But a weekend trip to Metropolis sets in motion a series of events, with romantic mishaps and conundrums abound, that may in fact force both Barry and Iris to face some long-awaited, romantic truths. 

Rated: T (Warnings: Mild language)

Perhaps the most notable visual extravagance at wedding receptions is the abundance of balloons, flowers, and the chiffon backdrops, draped like curtains, framing the table whereon sat the wedding cake. 

Iris is already trying to determine how she might steal away a few balloons, because really, nobody would miss them, and she had, after all, been the one sitting with the wedding planner for days on end, painstakingly selecting a theme for the reception and agonizing over every detail. Surely, after all her efforts, a few balloons going missing at the end of the party would be forgiven, if not unnoticeable. And she would be surreptitious about it too, seeing as how she would wait until the final guests, likely pleasantly drunk on champagne, rosé, and Prosecco, stumbled their way out of the Central City Gold Hotel. 

            “Nice work, West.” Iris looks up to see her heavily pregnant sister-in-law take a seat next to her, while cradling a rather magnificent sundae in her hands, spoon hanging precariously atop the hazelnut fudge.

            “Thanks, but don’t you call my brother ‘West?’ Could get confusing,” Iris says, raising one eyebrow. 

            “Yeah, but I’m married to Wally. Have been for three years. And so, it doesn’t have the same effect with him anymore. That’s the troublesome thing about marriage.” 

            “Classic Linda Park logic,” Iris murmurs, before once again focusing on the balloons. They are all the same shade of ivory, which made them particularly functional. For gift-giving purposes, that is. Gift-giving, Iris knows, is all about the presentation.

            “No, but seriously, Iris. I’m impressed. Joe and Cecile deserve the best, and this is, honestly, the best.”

            “Thanks, Linda. Dad deserves a perfect wedding day. As does Cecile. To be honest, I didn’t expect it to come together as beautifully as it did, but I’m still praying we see this thing to the end without any hiccups. We’ve got…” Iris taps the screen of her phone to check the time, “About three hours, at least, left.”

            “And it’s probably especially important to you. You know, because you played matchmaker for Joe and Cecile,” Linda says, while spooning a generous amount of ice cream, topped with fudge and sprinkles and coconut flakes, into her mouth. Iris’s brow furrows,

            “I did not ‘match-make’ my dad and Cecile. We’ve been over this Linda…” Linda begins to interrupt, but Iris shakes her head, “I know you seem to think that because I introduced my dad to Cecile that somehow this is my doing, but that’s untrue. To be honest, I didn’t expect them to hit it off so well, let alone date and get married within a year of my introducing them.” Cecile owns an interior design shop, which Iris had visited when she was helping Barry decorate his new apartment— a memory which immediately brings a smile to Iris’s face, for she fondly recalls Barry frantically searching eBay for a bed and a couch, and the way she had persuaded him that that was a terrible idea and instead found her way to Cecile’s trendy furniture boutique, which was also quite affordable. Cecile was so friendly and sweet, and Iris remembered her father struggling to date again, as it had been nearly a decade and a half since her mother had passed away, and so when she had thrown Barry a housewarming party, Iris figured that there was no harm in inviting Cecile, who had become friends with both Barry and Iris after hours spent together at the boutique, and introducing her to her dad. That had been a year ago. Now, they are at Joe West and Cecile Horton’s wedding reception.

            “Well, we can debate semantics, but you definitely match-maked Wally and me. You can’t deny that,” Linda says, matter-of-factly, before eating another scoop of her sundae.

            “I wouldn’t call it match-making. More like I have a sense for people that I know well and then introduce them, thinking that they may potentially like each other.”

            “You set Wally and I up on a blind date six years ago, and now we’re married and have twins on the way. I would say there’s a diabolical matchmaking side to you. Don’t tell me you don’t feel accomplished every time you successfully match-make a couple.”

            “Linda, I’ve only successfully match-maked— to use your word, which I still find objectionable, by the way— two couples. One was my brother and you. And you’re my best friend. The other was my dad and Cecile. That’s hardly a track record of successful matchmaking.”

            “But it could be. Think about it. This could be a lucrative side hustle.”

            “As if I would have time for a match-making side hustle, even if that was something I was interested in doing. I finally got my news site up and running, and The Citizen needs all hands on deck and then some. Besides, a matchmaking business is an exploitative way to make money.”

            “Mmm, maybe,” Linda seems to ponder this, momentarily, before changing topics, abruptly, “Speaking of which, I’m your best friend now? Thought that was a privilege exclusively afforded to Barry,” Iris has heard this before and rolls her eyes, exasperated,

            “My friendship with Barry is different. You know that.”

            “Actually I don’t know that. But I would love to be enlightened about that.” Linda’s response is far too smug for Iris’s liking, but before she can retort, she hears a familiar voice behind her, a voice that unquestionably wraps Iris in a cocoon of warmth, so that she feels instantly home,

            “I heard my name.” And although she cannot see him yet, she knows he’s smiling. 

            “Was wondering where you were, Allen. It’s a rare sight that you and Iris would be separated at any point, when in the same vicinity.” Barry chuckles at Linda’s quip, settling into the chair on Iris’s right and brushing away a few plastic flowers that had come undone from the upholstery. Iris glances up at him, smiling widely, which he’s reciprocating in equal measure. He sets a plate, containing a chocolate fudge brownie topped with mint chocolate chip ice cream, in front of her. Iris’s eyes widen, as she glances from the plate to Barry; her face alight with unadulterated joy. 

            “My hero,” she gasps, squeezing his hand and then truly taking in the scrumptious display of gooey chocolate and ice cream goodness.

            “Always,” he whispers, gazing at her, affectionately, before continuing, “I was wrangling the last brownie from old Mrs. Rogers, who apparently wanted to share it between herself and her cat. Although I don’t know,” Barry pauses for a moment, glancing around the reception hall, “if her cat is even here. Doubtful. Regardless, it took a great deal of speed, stealth, and possibly defying Newton’s first law of physics, because I could have sworn that I willed the brownie in my direction without even touching it, to retrieve this dessert.”

            “Don’t lie, Bear,” Iris says, her eyes sparkling with laughter, as she eagerly grabs her dessert fork, “Mrs. Rogers would never argue with you, if you wanted that brownie. She loves you.” 

            “Yeah, it was just my regular, old charm. And by charm, I mean, because I tutor her grandson, Matt, in chemistry.” (Linda snorts at that.) “Still, I think defying Newton’s first law makes for a better story. But nobody was getting this brownie except for you, Iris. You know, we wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t for you. I mean, just look at this place. It looks fantastic,” he raves, gesturing towards the décor, “The work you put into this is amazing. You’re amazing.”

            “Thank you, Barry.” She’s touched, not just because Barry managed to negotiate the last brownie from poor, old Mrs. Rogers with his rather endearing, tripping-over-his-feet-type charm, but also because he is being, as usual, so disarmingly complimentary of her. Barry never expects her to be amazing; he just thinks she’s amazing always, even when she’s at her lowest or when she is mistaken, and when Iris reflects deeply on that, it overwhelms her. It forces her to dwell on feelings untold; on how, whenever she sees him, she can’t help but smile, almost as if by instinct. 

But she can’t think about it. She won’t think about it.

            “Before you got here, Barry. I was telling Iris how she should really get into a matchmaking side hustle,” Linda says, forcing Iris to focus on the conversation taking place and not on… well, a place where she refuses to go. A place which she cannot explore. 

            “Matchmaking?” Barry leans back, resting his arm on the back of Iris’s chair. “I don’t think that’s even remotely close to anything Iris-like.” Iris is acutely aware of how close his arm is to the bare skin of her upper back, but she ignores this. Or tries to.

            “Exactly. And so I was telling Linda how that’s an awful idea, and how I am pretty sure a matchmaking business, where I have zero actual knowledge about strangers’ interpersonal relationships, could be fraudulent. I can’t possibly claim to be an expert. I mean, no guarantees, right? Seems like a colossal waste of people’s money,” Iris remarks, still trying not to think about Barry’s arm on her chair, right near her back. And how (she thinks she had just imagined it but, no, it was real) he had seemingly shifted his arm, so his fingers are now grazing her skin; his touch is feather-light, equally comforting as it is emboldening. 

            “That could be the genius of it, though. Enough people want to pay money for a matchmaker, even if it’s probably not going to be any more successful than a dating app. Throw in some good, old Cosmopolitan level astrology knowledge for marketing purposes. And there you have it. A potentially incredibly lucrative endeavor. Maybe I should start it myself,” Linda says, while still enjoying her sundae.

            “Why waste money on a matchmaker? Sometimes something incredible is right in front of you, and you just have to tell yourself it’s time to throw caution to the wind. A matchmaker can’t tell you that, only you can know that,” Barry sounds wistful when he says this, and Iris turns to him, abruptly, studying his expression. He’s looking straight ahead, but his gaze is demonstrable of clear desire, and upon hearing such longing in his voice, her stomach drops. Because that’s the face of someone in love. That’s the sound of someone in love. That’s the sound of someone who’s found their someone. But who could her Barry have found? When did he find someone? 

Iris is contemplating this, her stomach churning with her every thought, when the conversation shifts to pregnancy, as Linda comments how she’s always hungry and moody thanks to,

            “…These two whom Wally impregnated me with.” To which Barry laughs, his fingers still softly grazing Iris’s back, while Iris forces herself to smile along and even joke that Linda had talked her ear off about how much she wanted babies and how maybe she shouldn’t have gotten so ahead of herself. But Iris’s mind is still on Barry potentially having found someone. She knows she should be happy, monumentally happy, because Barry is happy, so she cannot fathom why she feels like she’s about to vomit. Suddenly, she has no appetite for her brownie and ice cream, but she eats to evade suspicion, because Barry would surely know something is wrong if she fails to eat her dessert. But from the way he’s carefully watching her, maybe he does know something is wrong already, and Iris wishes, not for the first time, that they did not know each other’s every fidget and expression, signaling a mood shift, so well.

When the wedding reception is over and after Iris has said goodbye to every guest and promised her father and Cecile that she would be at their house the next day for their family dinner, she manages to take three ivory balloons with her to her car, without a single guest noticing. The decorator who had stayed to help her wrap up tells her that she can take any number of balloons that she would like. Or, perhaps more practically, however many would fit in her car. 

*

More accurately, perhaps, Iris thinks she had not been noticed by anyone, when she’d successfully managed to fit all three balloons in her car two nights ago. She’s standing on line at CC Jitters, the local hub for Central City citizens to get their morning coffee and pastry fix, and holding a basket, which contains baked goods, a carefully wrapped red scarf, and a small, navy blue bag. Tied onto the handle of the basket are the three balloons, still inflated. 

            “For the boyfriend?” 

Iris turns to meet the friendly disposition of a blonde woman she’s never met before. Startled for a moment, Iris realizes, that the stranger is referring to her basket, and she smiles, shaking her head,

            “No, for a friend.” Although, given her thoughts lately, friend seems far too simple a word. She feels like she’s perjuring herself by saying friend, but best friend who I’ve known since childhood and with whom I think I might have feelings for, but who is possibly in love with someone else seems far too complicated, especially when Iris is not ready to admit this to herself, let alone to a stranger whom she meets for the first time on the queue for coffee. 

            “Well, they’re lucky. You clearly put so much work into that. No friend has ever given me a gift like that. Actually nobody’s given me a gift that thoughtful before,” the stranger continues, before visibly cringing, “I’m sorry, I’m oversharing. I’m Patty, by the way.” 

            “I’m…”

            “Iris!” There it is again, that feeling of home settling upon her shoulders, like a velvet cloak, shielding her, protecting her. Barry is walking towards her, holding two mugs of coffee, and when he stops before her, he presses his lips to her forehead briefly, a typical form of greeting between the both of them. But if he could hear the way her heart hammers against her chest whenever she feels the soft brush of his lips on her skin, then surely the ruse would be up. He would know how she feels, and so Iris is grateful, not for the first time, that her heartbeat is inaudible to anyone but her. 

            “Hey Bear, that for me?” she asks, nodding at one of the two mugs.

            “Yep. One Americano with an extra shot. Got here earlier and figured we could beat the line,” Barry grins, and he’s looking at her as if she’s the sun, and it’s almost too intense, perhaps because of all of those pesky feelings that she’s been feeling lately, so Iris breaks their gaze, remembering herself as well and turning back towards Patty.

            “Patty, this is my friend, Barry. Barry… Patty. We just met on the line.” Barry nods politely, as Patty says,

            “Nice to meet you.”

            ��Likewise,” Barry responds. “New around here?”

            “Is it that obvious? I’m just about to start at CCU as a grad student. And so I’m trying to get used to the city. I’m originally from Midway.”

            “Yeah, understandable,” Iris smiles. “Takes awhile to get used to a new place, but CC Jitters is the best, so you’ll never be wanting for good coffee, that’s for sure.” Patty laughs, then,

            “Well, I’m glad for that. Anyways, I won’t keep you two. Thank you, Iris, for just chatting with me.”

            “Of course.” The three exchange polite goodbyes, and Barry and Iris make a beeline for their favorite booth in the farthest corner from the entrance to the coffee shop; a rather secluded, cozy spot that Iris had first started occupying, when she was a journalism student at Central City University. Barry had been a chemistry major, and they met up every morning for breakfast and would come to study nearly every weekend, armed with cookies, coffee, and blankets. Iris remembers long afternoons spent in this booth, her feet propped up on Barry’s lap, his hands massaging her calves, as they studied in companionable silence. 

            It was in this booth that Iris had written article after article for The Central Brief, CCU’s university-wide newspaper, including her famed paper on the state of land rights of women, globally, that had won her the Scholastic Student of Journalism Prize and had given her the chance to speak in The Hague at an international conference on human rights. As Iris agonized over her field research, including research accumulated from summers of backpacking, Barry, while studying for his Protein Crystallography final, had been effusive in his support for her. He was constantly breaking from his studies to be her sounding board, should she need one, despite her reminding him time and again that he ought to concentrate on his own finals and not on her. He never listened, though, not that it in any way affected his marks. And so sure was he that her work would be honored that he’d planned a party, months in advance, before she had heard back from the National Committee for Excellence in Student Journalism and before she had been invited to The Hague. 

            Indeed, it was Barry who had remarked then that Iris ought to consider starting her own news media site after university, stating that she already had the credentials to draw in a large audience and investors. 

            “How are you feeling? About the exposé, I mean. Today’s the big day and all,” Barry says, as they settle into the booth, referring to what Iris considers to potentially be the most groundbreaking piece of journalism of her career thus far, namely an article exposing the rot of the biotechnology company, McCulloch Technologies. Its CEO, Joseph Carver, has been using the corporation as a front for a highly dangerous and illegal weapons trafficking scheme. The exposé, which is due to be published later today, will be a highly contentious article, no doubt, but Iris had long since decided that she will not rest until she sees justice through and the thousands of innocent people, caught in the crosshairs of Carver’s inhumane crimes, are safe.

            “Okay. I’m trying not to think about it, honestly,” Iris replies, and Barry takes her hand for a moment,

            “Hey, I get it. It’s hard not to be anxious, especially given the magnitude of the article and the far-reaching consequences it’s going to have. But I am so proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself as well,” he says, running his thumb over her knuckles slowly, before releasing her hand. Iris smiles softly, deeply touched by Barry’s faith in her,

            “Thanks, Bear.”

“Of course,” he says, before gesturing towards the gift basket, “So, are you going to tell me who the basket is for?” Iris adopts a playful expression, then.

            “Hmmm, it’s for this friend of mine who just submitted his dissertation for his DSc.”

            “How did you know I submitted today? I told you my deadline was next week, which it is,” Barry states, apparently incredulous that Iris could have known that he had submitted his paper this morning. 

            “I have my ways. And by that I mean you drooling on my couch last week and mumbling, half-asleep, that you are definitely submitting your dissertation on Tuesday. Well, today’s Tuesday, Bear,” Iris teases, chuckling at the memory of Barry entering her apartment last week in need of caffeine, which culminated with him staying the night, when he fell asleep on her sofa. 

            “I really can’t keep anything from you,” Barry sighs in mock frustration. “Although I really wouldn’t want to, anyways.” 

            “Good. And think about it, now you have this nice surprise.” Barry takes the basket from Iris’s hands, admiring her handiwork, before giving her a sly smile,

            “Well, I guess I know why you took those balloons from the reception on Saturday.”

Okay, so apparently she had not gone completely unnoticed. One guest had noticed her attempt to fit three inflated balloons into her car. Unsurprising, she now reflected, given who that guest happened to be.

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Iris. I may not be able to keep anything from you, but you definitely cannot keep anything from me either.” Are you sure about, Iris thinks momentarily, before banishing the thought immediately. For she will not dwell on those feelings again, not when she stands to lose too much if they start consuming her. When Iris looks up again, Barry is looking through the basket, marveling at the baked cake lollipops and banana bread and brownies (Iris can only bake sweets, and she would never subject Barry to her cooking, although he claims it’s not as bad as she seems to think it is), before he takes the red scarf from the basket. “Iris…” he whispers, her name like a prayer on his lips, and there goes her heartbeat again, pounding against her chest. “You knitted this.” And she knows that he already knows that she did, but it’s the way he’s looking at her now, like there are not any words currently discovered to express to her how much this means to him. She gives him a comforting smile, hoping to diffuse some of the intensity of the emotions that are radiating off of Barry. 

“Open the rest,” she encourages, and he’s now holding the small, navy blue bag, and removing a velvet box from it. Encased in the box is a watch, which she’d been saving up for, because all of his watches are for some reason broken, and she can hear his gasp, nearly inaudible, and then he’s looking at her, solemnly, gravely.

“Iris… I don’t know what to say. I don’t… thank you,” he says, his tone soft and tender.

“Of course, Bear. I’m so proud of you, and I don’t think this simple gift basket really can quantify how proud I am of you.”

“It’s not… it’s amazing. You’re amazing,” he says, and there it is again. How definitive it is to him that she’s amazing. And perhaps she forgives herself a little for her feelings then, for how can she not feel as she does when he says things like this to her every single day. He’s already wrapping the scarf on his neck and remarking how comfortable and warm it is. “I couldn’t get better knitted scarves at the store. I’m pretty sure you’re a superhero. You can literally do anything.” She listens to him wax on about her many, unbelievable talents, which she’s sure only he seems to think she possesses, before shaking her head, affectionately,

“The scarf looks good on you. Red is your color.”

“Always has been,” he jokes, although the emotion is still evident in his voice. “Come here,” he says then, reaching his arm towards her. She leaves her side of the booth to come over to his, and the moment she’s at his side, he wraps his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair, breathing deeply. She has one arm around his back, the other clutching his sweater, and her head is tucked into the crook of his neck, and Iris is sure that now he must be able to feel how rapidly her heart is beating. She’s cloaked in warmth and in comfort, and all she can think of is home. And all she can feel is love. The kind of tumbling, head over heels into a field of daisies type of love that Iris’s college friend, Cynthia Reynolds (now a hotshot litigator who works in BigLaw and who also is the Citizen’s unofficial legal counsel), claims is simply mushy, fairy-tale nonsense that couldn’t possibly exist outside of movies. Iris had laughed then, telling Cynthia that maybe she shouldn’t be so cynical. Cynthia had been unmoved, steadfast instead in her sentiment that people can fall in love, but that kind of ‘I want to go gallivanting in a forest somewhere and run towards you in a field, as if this is some damn terrible romantic drama’ love does not and cannot actually exist in real life. 

Well, Iris is feeling that mushy, fairy-tale type of love now (a fact which shocks her, despite the fact that she’s very aware of her growing pesky feelings), while wrapped up in Barry’s arms, so clearly, Cynthia had gotten it wrong. Oh fuck.

*

There are approximately fifteen different photos, capturing different angles of the McCulloch Technologies building, sitting on Iris’s desk when she walks into The Citizen that morning, after saying goodbye to Barry at Jitters, and all Iris can think about is the fact that she’s in love with her best friend. And as if her life could not be more complicated in that very moment, Barry is potentially in love with someone else.  

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

She cannot think about her feelings nor Barry being in love with some mystery human being right now, though, for she’s on the verge of publishing the explosive piece on Joseph Carver, who has been using his internationally successful technology company to peddle a highly intricate and complex hub-and-spoke conspiracy involving arms trafficking. He had managed to slither under the radar of inquiring agencies by acquiring different sorts of obscure technology, including ballistic software and parts that are often used to construct robots for laser guidance, under the guise of developing cutting-edge bio-technology. When Iris’s source had informed her that Carver’s labs were combining methane and ammonia, she knew that there was an underbelly of weapons-related criminality within the globally recognizable technology company, and armed with her pen, pepper spray, and sheer gumption, she and her photojournalist, Kamilla Hwang, had obtained press passes to Carver’s unveiling of robotic limbs. While there, Iris had asked janitors, low-level software engineers, and other personnel about why Carver’s labs were having methane and ammonia react with oxygen and how this in any way ameliorates existing biomedical technology. Iris and Kamilla eventually obtained access to a private press tour of Carver’s labs, where they noticed how jittery the staff had been, and after Iris had slipped her card to some of the employees, she had found herself, three days later, with nearly fifteen whistleblowers willing to come forward about nefarious activities in the labs.

As it turned out, Carver’s labs had been trying to create and had indeed succeeded in creating a gun that releases hydrocyanic acid, which they are currently selling on the black market. This is the latest of extraordinarily dangerous weapons that Carver sells both domestically and internationally. Indeed, several politicians are in cahoots with Carver; Carver having made them rich men, in exchange for avoiding Congressional inquiries into McCulloch Tech. 

Now, Iris stands poised to publish the most explosive exposé of her career thus far, and the thought is both exhilarating and terrifying. 

She studies Kamilla’s photos of the McCulloch Tech building, now having to decide which one would accompany the headline that is due to go up right before noon. One photo stood apart among the rest: a shot of McCulloch Tech at night, illuminated by the lights of the city, but with only one floor of the building, the top floor, indicating any activity: the lights of the top floor were on, and the rest of the building was largely camouflaged by the night sky. That top floor contained the only working laboratory at headquarters and is where hydrocyanic acid is processed. This is the photo, Iris thinks, just as she hears a commotion at the door and sees her newest hire, Allegra Garcia, forcefully wrangle open the door, rather dramatically, before slamming it shut.

“Hey, boss,” Allegra says. “We have got to get that door fixed. I’m telling you; it’s trying to kill me every time I arrive.” Iris chuckles fondly at Allegra’s dramatics,

“You’re the only one who seems to be constantly battling the door, Allegra. There are four other people who work here who seem to have no trouble getting in and out of the office.”

“Well, I don’t know, but this door has had it out for me since I began working here. And so… oh! Are those the photos? How much time have we got until noon…?” Allegra pauses momentarily, as she taps her phone, which she was holding in one hand, “Forty minutes. Fantastic.” Iris smiles, watching Allegra race up to her desk, excitedly. Two of the reasons that she had hired Allegra was for her enthusiasm about reporting and for her passion for ethical journalistic integrity, both of which she demonstrated every day on the job.  

“This is the one I want to use to accompany the article,” Iris explains, while pushing the photograph towards Allegra, whose eyes widen when she sees the photo. 

“Yeah, this is incredible. I know Kamilla must have camped out awhile to get this shot,” she exclaims, before looking up at Iris, “We’re really gonna do this, boss. We’re gonna expose Carver and who knows? You might win a Pulitzer from this.” 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have to publish the exposé first, and our legal team has been sending me messages since this morning about how she is obligated to warn us about frivolous defamation suits that Carver might file in the immediate aftermath. But the truth is more important. Let Carver sue us; if he does, he’s going to lose anyways.” Although, to be completely accurate, the Citizen’s unofficial legal team, comprising of one Cynthia Reynolds, whose texts to Iris consisted of, “Carver is definitely going to sue you for defamation, so I’ve got to warn you of that, but screw that guy. Publish and destroy him once and for all,” were certainly more emboldening than averting. Iris is also quite certain that that is technically not sound legal advice, in the least.

The door opens again, and in walks Kamilla, joined by the two other reporters at The Central City Citizen, Kara Danvers and James Olsen. They’re all chatting animatedly about the exposé and the explosive ripple effects its publication might have. 

“He’s an absolute monster,” Kara tells James, no doubt referring to Carver. “I mean, hydrocyanic acid? The sheer inhumaneness of his crimes just to fill his coffers…” 

“Evil folks will do absolutely anything to satisfy their greed, including murdering people,” James observes, and Iris knows this is perhaps a fundamental truth of which every investigative journalist must be aware. Kamilla walks up to Iris’s desk and grins when she sees Iris scanning the chosen photo onto her computer,

“That’s the one, isn’t it? When I captured it, I knew I had gotten it. It took me, I think, nearly five hours of camping out, and it was 2:45 AM yesterday when I finally had managed to take that photo.” 

“It’s incredible, Kamilla,” Iris praises. “All your photos are great, but this one is fantastic. It captures exactly what we need to accompany the article.” When Iris had taken this on by herself, she had been wary about putting any of her reporters in danger, but Kamilla had insisted that she accompany Iris in order to take photographs. In hindsight, Iris is incredibly grateful to have had Kamilla by her side through it all, for her calm, steady demeanor was vital amidst the insanity of taking on Joseph Carver. Kara and James, who have caught up to the others, both make approving noises, congratulating Kamilla on her photography, as Iris continues to work to format the article. 

When she is satisfied with the formatting, she taps her phone, seeing that there is roughly twenty minutes remaining until the deadline, and while her reporters are chattering excitedly, the door opens once more, and Iris is greeted by the sight of Wally carrying two champagne bottles in one hand and precariously balancing a few glasses in his other hand. On his heels is Barry, who is carrying a large white box with the words ‘Zulma’s Pastries’ emblazoned on the top, and Iris is flooded with that fairy-tale, gallivanting in a field of daisies feeling again, to which she now finds she is already getting accustomed, which is a somewhat terrifying thought. 

While Iris has some idea as to why both of them are in her office, she is also aware that Dr. Wally West is supposed to be at work at Central City Hospital, and Barry is supposed to be meeting the Dean of Graduate Studies at CCU about a potential professorship. 

“What are you two doing here?” Iris asks, smiling nonetheless, for she is touched that they likely took time out of their busy days to celebrate the publication of the exposé. She had not mentioned the details of the publication to them, in an effort to protect her sources, but Linda had let it slip to Wally that Iris is publishing the article on Tuesday at the wedding on Saturday, and Barry… well, Barry knows everything about Iris, just the way she knows everything about him, so his appearance in her office twenty minutes before she is meant to publish the most important exposé of her professional career is even less surprising than Wally’s.

“I can’t believe you thought we weren’t going to come and crash this… pathetic party, quite frankly,” Wally says, frowning as he takes in the Citizen office, which while buzzing with the excitement of determined reporters, is not exactly set up for any sort of impending celebration. “You have nothing here to celebrate, Iris. No food, no drinks, nothing.” 

“We haven’t even published, and we have no idea of the repercussions of a piece like this, Wally. I think our sheer grit as reporters is celebratory enough.” 

“We knew you were going to say that,” Barry chuckles, placing the box on a desk adjacent to Iris’s, and then helping Wally with the champagne glasses. “But Linda and I wanted this to be a surprise. We managed to get Wally to help, which is good…”

“Linda’s not feeling well,” Wally cuts in. “She was having awful morning sickness, and I told her I didn’t want to go and that Barry could do the heavy-lifting, but she threatened me and sent me away with two of our best champagne bottles.” Iris begins to protest, but Wally continues on, “And honestly, Iris, before you say anything, I’d rather get an earful from you about leaving Linda at home for this— and by the way, she’s feeling much better, thanks to the fact that I’ve finally perfected the art of making a ginger and mint smoothie— than defy her orders.” 

“Glad to see your theatrics are still in top form,” Iris deadpans, before turning to Barry, pointedly, “Thank you, Barry. You and Linda really didn’t have to do all of this. I haven’t even published it yet.” 

“Excuse me, I helped!” Wally interjects, and Barry is laughing now as Iris reaches up to give him a quick hug, which he returns immediately. As they break apart, Barry’s hand lingers on her arm.

“You’re welcome,” he says. “I wanted this to be a surprise and that’s why I didn’t mention earlier coming by later on. And I knew you could have used a distraction this morning from thinking about the exposé.”

“I did need a distraction,” Iris smiles, still keenly aware of his fingers slowly brushing against her arm, gently, tenderly. 

“I imagine you did. But to reiterate what I said earlier this morning, I’m so proud of you. So, so proud of you.” He cups her face with one hand, gently caressing his thumb against her cheek, and he’s gazing at her with so much emotion in his eyes, and she knows that the same intensity that had radiated off of him when she’d gifted him the basket earlier this day is emanating from him now, and she cannot help but wonder if he feels what she feels, because in these moments, she’s sure he must be. 

Wally clears his throat loudly, while pouring out the champagne, and both Barry and Iris break away from each other quickly. When Iris looks up at Wally, he’s giving her that same look Linda had given her at the wedding reception on Saturday, when she had clarified that her friendship with Barry was different. Unwilling to entertain the idea that Wally and Linda have discussed her feelings for Barry, she turns to her reporters, who were already opening Barry’s box of sweets.

“Brownies!” Kara yelps, eyeing the chocolate chip, fudge brownies and quickly grabbing paper plates from the Citizen’s supply cupboard. 

“Thank you, Barry! We really needed this,” James agrees, while Kamilla and Allegra join their colleagues in helping themselves to the scrumptious sweets and expressing their gratitude. 

“We’re not going to get any work done today, but it’s fine. Thanks, Bear,” Iris laughs, as Barry hands her a glass of champagne. They clink their glasses together, before sipping their respective drinks.

“The Citizen can use a break. Especially you,” Barry says after a few moments, giving Iris a pointed look. “You’ve had countless sleepless nights over the research for this, and now it’s ready for the public to read. You deserve a whole week long break, at least.”

“The news doesn’t stop for me to catch up on sleep, unfortunately. I have three upcoming potential stories, including the ways in which exam software companies have violated the privacy of examinees.”

“Sounds like you’re about to become the hero of every university student everywhere. I can’t believe the vagueness of some of those disclaimers that exam software companies put out, as if students have any choice but to use them, when they have examinations online.”

“Yeah, exactly. And if nobody holds their feet to the fire, they think that they can get away with anything. That’s why I’ve got to do it.”

“Iris West saves the world yet again. That should be a headline. Maybe I should pitch it to Central City Picture News. Think Scott Evans would run a headline on his biggest rival?”

“Scott would definitely do it, if it brings CCPN good business. Besides, our rivalry is more friendly than anything else. That said, ‘Iris West Saves the World Yet Again’ sounds more like I’m saving the world with superpowers, not the power of a pen and a public audience. I think you might be overselling me just a little bit.”

“Absolutely not,” Barry says, affronted. “Iris West is my hero, and she always has been, so I think you’re underestimating her. She’s a total superhero.” 

“Doubtful.”

“Don’t try to tell me that you’re not a superhero, Iris. You’re definitely not going to win this argument.”

“Fine, I’ll level with you. Because you know what they say, right? Every superhero has her own hero? Well, if I am a superhero, then I have a confession to make: my hero happens to be this guy I know… superheroes need strength to be invincible, right? So yeah, this guy is my constant strength. Maybe you know him? Name’s Barry Allen?” Barry blushes furiously at that, ducking his head bashfully, and Iris thinks, Success! She knows she’s rendered him flustered, and he’s so adorably handsome, as he fidgets with his hands, as if searching for something to hold. But even despite his flustered state, he remembers the ongoing debate, and he manages a,

“Alright, alright. You win, Iris.” Iris smiles at him, radiantly and triumphantly, just as Wally makes his way over to them, holding a champagne glass of his own, and he’s got a rather sheepish look on his face, which immediately makes Iris suspicious.

“I know that face, Wall. What’s going on?” 

“Nothing. Not every expression of mine means something,” Wally says, immediately defensive. “Although, I do have to ask you a small favor. But really, it’s not a favor, because it’s actually going to be great for you. So it’s technically a favor, but a favor that you’ll enjoy.” 

“Of course you think so. What is it?” Iris asks, tiredly, knowing immediately that she probably was not going to enjoy this favor as much as Wally seems to think. 

“Okay, so you know Cecile’s godson, Eddie Thawne? He couldn’t come to the wedding, because he was away on an emergency business trip?”

“Yeah, I know Eddie,” Iris responds, confused as to what he had to do with whatever Wally was asking of her. Eddie Thawne was the son of Cecile’s best friend, a wealthy hotelier, and he’d been friendly enough in the few interactions that Iris had had with him, but she could not claim to know him all that well.

“Right, so he’s hosting this gala in Metropolis for dad and Cecile this Saturday. It’s very last minute, found out last night, actually… and well, I’d told dad I was going to go, because you know, one of us should go, right? Technically, both of us should, but dad didn’t want to trouble you, because you’ve been so busy with work, and it’s not a big deal. In fact, I think dad didn’t want you to know, because he thought you might get the wrong idea and think that this gala was going to upstage all the work you put in for the actual wedding and reception, which I kept insisting to him you wouldn’t think at all. And I don’t want to leave Linda, even for the weekend. She keeps telling me she’ll be fine, and I know she’s not due for another two months, but I’m not comfortable going.”

“So, you want me to go,” Iris says, knowing exactly what her brother was asking of her. On the one hand, traveling to Metropolis for the weekend for a gala made Iris nervous, because she did not want to leave Central City for at least a week after the McCulloch Tech article was published, but on the other hand, Wally could not be expected to attend, and it would be wrong if both of them missed a gala that was being held for their dad and Cecile. 

Wally is apparently under the impression that Iris might need some more coaxing, so he puts his champagne glass down and reaches into his coat pocket, brandishing four plane tickets.

“Here, the flight tickets are on me. Eddie is putting people up in rooms at his family’s hotel, and he apparently booked four rooms between the two of us, so we could each bring some guests. With Linda and I not going, you’ll have at least three rooms to fill.”

“It’s fine, Wally. I’ll go. You’re right; we should go for dad and Cecile, and you honestly cannot and should not go. I just have to find people who can take a trip with me, last minute…” Iris knows whom she would want to invite, and so she turns to Barry, immediately. “Look, Bear, I know it’s short notice, but…”

“Yeah, I’ll come,” Barry agrees quickly, before she can even finish posing the question, and Iris notices that he has a slightly agitated expression, which worries her. His hand clenches the edge of her desk, rather forcefully, and so she places her own hand over his, reassuringly, and this seems to relax him, at least momentarily, as she can feel some of the tension in his muscles evaporate slowly. He smiles, then, perhaps trying to mask his sudden agitation, “My weekend’s free, and we were just talking about how you could use a break, Iris. This’ll be good, as it’s a vacation of sorts.” 

“Thanks, Barry. I’ll also ask Cynthia; she could always use a break, and Bear, why don’t you invite someone?”

“I’ll ask Cisco.” Iris glances up at Barry, and they both share a knowing look: they had been trying to get Cynthia and Barry’s old college roommate and engineering genius extraordinaire, Cisco Ramon, to meet for ages (So much for swearing off match-making, Iris thinks then), but they had not had the chance to introduce the two of them yet. This trip might just provide the long-awaited golden opportunity.

“Perfect,” Wally says, considerably relieved, but before Iris can respond, she finds herself surrounded by her fellow reporters who are telling her that it’s just before noon. She nods, waiting until everyone is gathered around her, and Barry’s arm comes around her shoulders, providing her with both comfort and strength. And while a sudden, rather dignified silence, perhaps to mark the solemnity of this publication, descends upon the Citizen, Iris can feel the soundless excitement of Kamilla and of Allegra and of Kara and of James, as she publishes the exposé on the Citizen’s website. 

*

Thus, late that Friday afternoon, Iris finds herself boarding a plane with Barry, Cynthia, and Cisco, in tow, and she’s only half paying attention to Cisco’s exuberance in describing his latest inventive feat at S.T.A.R. Labs, the product technology company he works for, because Barry is acting… odd. He has been acting odd since he had accepted her invitation to come along to Metropolis, and she cannot fathom what it is about this trip that has him so on edge. He is fidgeting so much, and every time he notices that she notices, he gives her a forced smile, as if to divert her suspicions away from his agitation, but that only serves to increase her worries. Whatever is bothering him so much is something that he apparently is unwilling to share with her. 

“…It’s insane. I mean, if we get this right, we will be revolutionizing tablet computers and robotic interpreters,” Cisco is saying, and Iris is sure that if Cisco is put to the task, he and his team certainly would get it done, for she had witnessed his genius first hand before, when, during a birthday party for his best friend, Caitlin Snow, a few years back, the power had blown and there had been no backup generator, and Cisco had managed to create a temporary power source seemingly out of thin air. Iris is sure that there were numerous devices at Cisco’s disposal, and he’d had the aid of Caitlin’s then boyfriend now husband, Ronnie, also an engineer, but it was the sheer ingenuity of Cisco’s engineering ability and the sheer determination to get this done and to ensure Caitlin had the party that she deserved that was so impressive. 

“If anyone can get it done, though, it’s Cisco Ramon,” Iris voices her thoughts, and Cisco smiles proudly,

“Thanks, Iris. It’s definitely going to be a lot of work, but I definitely think we’re headed in the right direction. Hopefully.”

“Hmmm, it all sounds impressive, but what are the patenting ramifications that come with such a unique project. Surely, you’re worried about somebody trying to build upon your product once it’s out in the market. How stringent is your patent going to be?” Cynthia, ever the cynic, adds, eyeing Cisco.

“I don’t want to hog all the spotlight, honestly. We want other people and companies to be able to build on our findings and develop even better tech. There’ll be a patent, but it’s not going to be exclusive.” 

“You’re way too nice.”

“I’m just here to improve tech. Being nice isn’t a crime, I hope,” Cisco laughs, and Cynthia shakes her head fondly, clearly believing Cisco to be naive, but apparently endeared to his naiveté nonetheless. Cisco and Cynthia, still playfully arguing about the stringency of a future patent, take their seats in the middle row, and Iris and Barry, the latter who is still distracted, sit by the window across the aisle. 

“Bear, what’s going on?” Iris sighs, finally, turning to him, once they’ve taken their seats. Barry looks up at her, startled and guilty, and immediately starts deflecting,

“Nothing. I’m fine, Iris, really. I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit out of it. Just… I don’t know, I’m fine.” Iris can tell that he’s not going to be forthcoming with her, no matter how persistent she is, but she is not ready to drop the issue entirely.

“I’m not going to press you, but you know that if something is bothering you, I’m always here, if you want to talk. You know that, right?”

“Of course I know that. Of course I do,” Barry says, his voice tender. “And I’m the luckiest guy in the world for it. I’m sorry that I’ve been out of it the last couple of days, I just… I don’t want you to worry about me. That’s the last thing I want.” Iris can tell he’s struggling between telling her and being evasive, so she takes his hand in her own, their fingers interlocking almost instinctively. She squeezes his hand, as his thumb brushes against her knuckles. 

“I’m going to worry, because it’s you, and so I can’t not worry, but I don’t want you to tell me anything when you’re not ready to.” Barry’s free hand comes to cup her chin, as he brings her closer to him, and she basks in the warmth of his hand against her skin. When his lips meet her forehead, she closes her eyes and relishes in his lingering kiss, and she knows… she knows that she’s unequivocally in love with him, and she’s sure that she has been for quite some time, and all she wants to do is lift her face and coax his lips to hers, but she can’t. She knows that she can’t. She can’t ruin their equilibrium, because if she were to admit her feelings and lose Barry’s friendship completely… that is a possibility that she cannot risk. 

“I know how deeply you care. And I love you for it,” he whispers against her forehead. And I love you for it. 

He’s told her he loves her so many times over the two decades that they’ve known one another, and she knows that he means it platonically, as he always has, but that doesn’t stop her from imagining that he loves her in the same way that she loves him. 

And when Barry falls asleep, after the plane takes off, and drops his head, so it rests comfortably on her shoulder, his face turned into the crook of her neck, so that she can feel his steady breaths fanning against her skin, Iris leans her head against his, and she thinks that this is what true tranquility feels like. 

And I love you for it.

[anamatics]

so i’ve been watching rwby

and as I’ve been doing so I’ve been posting reactions to my friends. After S5, S6, and S7, in particular, I had a lot of thoughts and opinions. More under the cut. I’m going to write fic aren’t i?

Season 5:

1. Where is the first/autumn relic?! Like, we've established that Ozpin hid it well, yet for some reason it doesn't feel like that's the whole story - given where the relic was hidden this time, in some sort of n dimentional desert (where, if you looked closely you could see similar ##chemtrails - could people just walk through that desert to get to all of them? 2. I find it hilarious that Weiss just got out of Atlas only to go back, I'm very curious as to what sort of ~~damage this reveals about her in the coming seasons, but I'm also very intrigued by how reintroducing her to her father with the rest of team RWBY will shift/alter the narrative of powerlessness that he seems t be pushing toward her. I'm esp. intrigued as to what his reaction will be to Blake (as he seems very anti-faunus). 3. WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN FOR THE #YANGST. 4. The show has been pretty constantly showing us that most of Ruby and Yang's family seems like chill folks, but the ##absentmother trope is strong here. Given that it seems like only Blake has a mom, does Blake's mom adopt everyone? 5. Blake having a fairly functional nuclear family is fascinating to me, because it makes a lot of her choices seem way more political (at a very young age) as opposed to just a kid who got in over her head with a boy who was a bit older. I'd love to know more about this. 6. as a multishipper, I hurt all over.

xx

Season 6:

Item the FIRST: Weiss barely making it out of Atlas only to be dragged, albeit somewhat willingly back to the source of all of her ~ trauma & family drama ~ I am curious to see how this plays out and generally hope that Weiss somehow stabs her shitty dad and Draco Malfoy rip off brother while being reunited with her 100% Cooler Than U sister. Also that Cooler Than U sister works on the unresolved sexual tension she CLEARLY had with Qrow.

Item the SECOND: The show's thoughtful handling of Qrow's alcoholism and Ruby's gentle efforts to push toward sobriety without like being annoyingly moralistic about it. It could have been handled so differently and I really, really enjoyed that it was handled in the way it was.

Item the THIRD: Weiss' new red scarf. adsfajshfaksdjfhthatsgayweissaksdfhaksdjfh

Item the FOURTH: The various Poor Life Choices Salem made during our brief sojourn to the Department of Backstory. Also Jinn is amazing let's keep her around. She can join Jaune, Ren and Nora as a 4th member of their team and just hilariously be naked all the time. 10/10 would watch for hijinks adventures.

Item the FIFTH:  Ozpin sulking that he got all his relationship drama put on main like that

Item the SIXTH: Jaune's gay sister and sister-in-law and their baby and and and and (idk I just loved this).

Item the SEVENTH: BLAKE AND YANG HELD HANDS AND MURDERED THEIR TRAUMA TOGETHER PRAISE JESUS AND CAN I GET A HALLELUJAH? NOW KISS.

Item the EIGHTH: My multishipper ass saw that moment between Weiss and Yang when they were stuck in the basement and I'd just like to say I would be happy to see that too.

xx

Season 7:  Item the First: Weiss has a mother. Which we all logically knew she did but that scene with her in Jacques' office was just... a lot. Also raised some very interesting questions. When will Weiss and Ruby bond over alcoholic parental figures, I ask you. On this front, I am also now supremely, supremely curious about Winter's relationship with her mother. 

Item the Second: Leftist Weiss. Well we all knew that Weiss wouldn't have voted for her dad anyway, but I think the tension between Weiss's clear orientation toward helping people and government for good and her father/sister's appealing to/embodying other forms of authority (corporate/military). This also raises an interesting point of contention between Weiss and Winter, as Winter's sort of this embodiment of what I'd maybe call a conscientious soldier – where she’s clearly in possession of independent thoughts and opinions, yet also seems to want to appeal to a higher authority whenever she feels conflicted (e.g. “Ironwood is making the hard decisions so we don’t have to.”). This actually draws a very stark line between Winter and Weiss – as Weiss has always been a freer thinker, who can and does think for herself and operate from her own moral compass. The moment at the end of the season between Weiss and Winter was just so delicious as I hope (HOPE HOPE) that they’re setting up for a ~~moment of clarity~ for Winter where she has to make a decision on her own that defies orders in some way for the greater good that Weiss can see so easily. (Also, please, my good gay sisters: Hug. It. Out.)

Item the Third: Leftist Bees (well really, leftist Yang, Blake was always a revolutionary). I absolutely loved the Everyone Is Lying moments in this season, and I do hate that the Bees were the ones caught out in it first. Black and Yang telling Robyn the truth also struck me as something that the pair of them would do anyway – the only other character I could see possibly slipping and letting info get to Robyn is Weiss, but I also got the sense that Weiss understood the politics of the situation better than anyone else and because of this was playing it pretty close to the vest. The Bee’s decision really jives with their partnership. As did getting to watch them fight together so much this season, they’re evolving together, and seeing them fight in tandem is a delight.

Item the Fourth: Splitting whiterose. I like Penny. I actually love Penny. I love Penny and Roby’s dynamic. And their friendship. And how ridiculous they are. But it really struck me that how the whiterose partnership kept on getting split until the final fight against the Spice Force Five. I’m sure there’s a reason for this but I don’t like it and I won’t hear it or respond to it.

Item the Fifth: The Not Spice Girls/Spice Force Five. Love these idiots, but they’re all cops. Marrow is the most delightful of them and seems like he’s about to go on a journey similar to Winter, Harriet sucks a lot, Clover was a delightful almost rip but also mmmwhatchusay. I sort of hated the juxtaposition between team RWBY and them, with the ‘just following orders’ mentality and the lack of friendship/cohesion between these guys. I guess now Winter can join them and they so they can have their Posh Spice.

Item the Sixth: Schneewood Forest. I feel like I could write a whole elaborate backstory with these two. There’s something there – the unstoppable force meets immovable object of it, plus the idea of someone who challenges Winter’s entire belief structure just by being an okay person ~with a merry band of queers~. I feel a lot of things. I want to explore this. Stop me I am in a PhD program. 

Item the Seventh: The Tinman’s Heart. Having read all of the Wizard of Oz books, as well as the Wicked series, I actually appreciate that this series is taking nods from both sources for these characters. James’s decisions are … not great but I can see his logic – well right up until the part where he shoots poor Oscar. That was just rude. Also I do love watching him fight because he’s so very, very good.

Item the Seventh: Bisexual Bobs. How very Bi of you Blake. And how useless lesbian of Yang to be all flustered about it. Please kiss.