#seeing him being so physically affectionate but also knowing he was alone for decades...

[nenoname]

stan putting his hand/arm over his family's shoulders compilation!!!

+ ford returning the favour

[bettsfic]

I think the world is in desperate need of your analysis on ZoLu (and perhaps write a lil fantastic fic while you're at it teehee)

FIRST of all, having seen nearly mackenyu's entire filmography (he doesn't have a ton of stuff and some of it is unwatchable but god i tried), i can confirm that he's always typecast as some kind of angry/sardonic brother figure. that's the key: he is always a brother whose conflict has to do with brotherhood. in one of the very few things where he plays a romantic part, it is with that character's sister figure (but who is actually a cousin).

so here i was, innocently expecting more of the same. but instead i get

i have no frame of reference for the canon material, but i do have a frame of reference for mackenyu's Range, and i can assure you this expression hasn't shown up anywhere.

their dynamic is my kryptonite. goofy boyishness meets unwavering loyalty and reverence. i'm doomed.

unfortunately, i ship them in a very fucked up way no one will enjoy, and i'll probably end up walking into some kind of decades-long fandom discourse i wasn't aware existed.

i started writing a modern AU where baratie is a pseudo-fancy franchise steakhouse. the first part is sanji/nami. the second part is zoro/luffy (zoro is a bartender, luffy is a dishwasher; they're also roommates). i don't know if i'll finish or post it but here are some highlights from the zolu fic, which branches off at the halfway point of the sanji/nami fic. so we see this same scene from sanji's pov earlier.

note this is a very early draft, and it's only in reference to the live action. tw for alcoholism.

It’s Employee Appreciation Day at Baratie. Having been offered an open bar which he does not have to tend, Zoro feels amply appreciated. Luffy is on one side of him, crawling over him to talk to Usopp. Across the table, Sanji has just joined them. Nami, shit-faced, leans against him, and if Sanji doesn’t do something about this tension soon, Zoro is going to kick his ass. Fucking coward, he thinks, but the thought is cut short by Luffy crawling back to his seat, pointy knees and elbows digging into Zoro in the process, like a giant puppy that has no idea how heavy it’s gotten. Luffy’s leg remains crossed over Zoro’s thigh. They’ve been living together so long that Luffy no longer smells like anything. They share the same detergent, soap, shampoo. Zoro’s pretty sure Luffy even uses his deodorant. They have separate toothbrushes though. At least there’s that.

Zoro is less a roommate and more just a piece of playground equipment for Luffy to climb on. At some point these past three years, Luffy’s perspective of where his body ends and Zoro’s begins became skewed. What’s frightening is that Zoro doesn’t care. In fact he enjoys being Luffy’s plaything. He doesn’t have to bear the brunt of existence when Luffy is carelessly snuggling him like a beloved stuffed toy. 

[took a few paragraphs out]

The truth is that he can’t be alone. Doesn’t want to be alone. Those years of his life after Kuina died, wandering through life just trying to make enough money to get blitzed every night, he’d managed to convince himself he was a loner. He doesn’t remember much about that time. It might’ve been the next day or the next year that he downloaded a hookup app. He’d never liked sex—men, women, didn’t matter—but if he could find some sweet shy girl to fuck or a pretty twink, he’d do his duty and then he’d earn his place beside them in bed, hold them, fall asleep with them, maybe even wake up with them. Some of them liked him, wanted to see him again, but he never fucked the same person twice. He needed to be surrounded by people but he couldn’t be close to them. 

Luffy was kind of perfect in that regard. He was physically affectionate to the point of being literally clingy, but emotionally he stayed lightyears away. He was capable of meaningful conversations but he never made himself vulnerable. It was an admirable act. He could look you in the eye and convince you to follow your wildest dreams, could listen thoughtfully as you gutted yourself open in front of him, spilled your darkest secrets and greatest fears. But he’d never reciprocate. In fact, you'd think he didn’t have any at all. That he was living one step to the left of reality, and you could be there too, fearless, if only you followed him.

[rrr-is-gay]

HORNY DOSTI FIC: COMPLETE

Indulge me for a moment. I had been lurking in fandoms for over a decade, because I've had some very bad experiences with fandom and fic spaces being, for lack of a better word, toxic as fuck. The RRR fandom, specifically RamBheem, has been such a healing experience for my relationship to this style of writing. This is the first fic I've published since the livejournal days! And while I don't necessarily think it's objectively good (I am rusty, after all) I'm proud of it and find some moments to be really cute. So here's a big fat POST giving context to each chapter relative to where it falls in the montage.

ENTWINED IN FINDING YOU ONE DAY

(All these titles are Nightwish references. Can't help being a metalhead!)

Chapter One: Away from the World in a Dream Ram gets misty-eyed about Bheem making him feel at home for the first time since he was a child. Then they play-fight and splash each other while doing dishes because they're insufferable.

Chapter 2: I Weep to Have What I Fear to Lose This is actually my favorite chapter. Ram grapples with his feelings for Sita, and Bheem tries to offer support but only causes more confusion. Ram's emotions boil over and he physically needs to get them out, so he challenges Bheem to a foot race. At the end, Bheem picks Ram up and throws him over his shoulder. And Ram, well... uh.... Ram gets a boner, okay?!

Chapter 3: Come Cover Me SMUT TIME! The boys pull over from their ride to take a break in the shade. Bheem spills his guts about how much pain he can sense in Ram and offers him a massage. And then it gets steamy.

Chapter 4: Walk the Dark Path, Sleep with Angels Angsty Ram reflects on his sexy time in the meadow with Bheem and what it all means. He takes a bath and giggles to himself about all the things they did, then tortures himself about the implications. He's a mess. All he wants is to see Bheem again.

Chapter 5: Dear One, Here I Am MOAR SMUT! The boys reunite for an evening stroll through the fog, but Bheem has a surprise waiting for Ram. He cleaned and decorated the inside of an abandoned building so they could be alone and, you know... fuck. Very, very schmaltzy and affectionate but also just a lil bit nasty.

Ngl, I ended the last chapter abruptly because I was tired of writing and reading the name "Akhtar." That's why I called him Bheem here. I didn't even realize until I was balls deep in this fic how attached I am to Bheem's name. All my future fic will be with his real name.

[compassionatereminders]

I met a guy again last year who I fell for almost a decade ago but never dared to speak to back then. This time around we quickly became friends and I fell right back in love again. I don't know how to describe this without sounding like I've lost my mind, but in absolutely every way he is the most beautiful, kind and cool person I have ever met, even though he himself thinks he's mediocre at best. Every time we're together I feel like I'm floating and every time I don't see him for a while he consumes my every thought. At some point along the way I opened up about my feelings and he said he's worried a romantic relationship between us might ruin our friendship, so I agreed to keep it platonic. I don't know how aware he is of how much I still love him and I don't want to let him know because I'm scared to destroy our relationship, but every time we're alone together he gets weirdly quiet, then again he also lets me crash at his place overnight and has told me on multiple occasions that he's glad he met me, and when we're not alone he's incredibly physically affectionate despite usually being pretty touch averse. I just don't know what to do with myself, I'm so head over heels and so afraid of losing him.

If you're really serious about this dude, you might dare to tell him that while you love being his friend, you are willing to take the risk of pursuing something more. He may not reciprocate, but there's also a chance that he is just looking for a little encouragement, and you won't know before you make your own intentions clear

[baya-ni]

The Queer Appeal of Sk8

Recently @mulberrymelancholy reblogged a post of mine with a truly galaxy brain take about how Sk8 “is a show made for queer fans” and generally how sports anime often depicts love and relationships in a way that’s more accessible and relatable to ace/arospec people than other mainstream media does.

Just, *chef’s kiss* fucking brilliant. I urge you to read their post here (note I’m referring to the reblog not the actual post).

And basically, it got me thinking about this concept of Sk8 as a Queer Show, and the kinds of stories and dynamics that tend to attract queer audiences in droves, regardless of whether its queerness is made explicit or hell, whether that queerness was intended.

And that’s what I’ve been pondering: What are the cues, markers, or coding, in Sk8 that set off the community’s collective gaydar?

I obviously can’t speak for the community. So here’s what aspects of the show intrigued me and what, for me, marks Sk8 as a Queer Show beyond the subtextual queer romances: a punk/alternative aesthetic, Found Family, Shadow as a drag persona, and The Hands.

1.) The Punk Aesthetic

All three of the above screenshots are taken from Ep 1, and every single one of them depicts background characters. They’re nameless and ultimately unimportant characters, yet each of them designed so distinctly and so unique from one another, one could mistake each of them for the main character(s) of another story.

Of what little I know about Punk subculture, I do know this: that the ethos of Punk is heavily built around a celebration of individuality and non-conformity. Sk8 seems to have incorporated this ethos into the very fabric its worldbuilding, and the aesthetics and culture upon which it takes inspiration appeals specifically to a queer audience.

I don’t really need to explain why Punk has such deep ties with the queer community. For decades, queer people have found community and acceptance within punk spaces, and punk ideology is something that I think is just ingrained in the queer consciousness as both lived experience and a survival tactic.

Therefore, a show that adopts punk aesthetics is, by association, already paying homage to Queer culture, intentional or not.

Queer fans notice this- like recognizes like.

2.) Found Family

This also needs little explanation.

Too often, queer individuals cannot rely on their “born into” families for support and acceptance. Too often, we are abused, neglected, and abandoned by those who we were taught would “always be there for us.”

And so, a universal experience for queer people has been redefining the meaning of Family, having to build our families from scratch, finding brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers in people with whom we have no blood relation, and forming communities tied together by shared lived experience rather than shared genetics.

And this idea of Found Family is also built into Sk8′s narrative.

Like, for example, the way that Reki promises MIYA that he and Langa will “never disappear from [his] sight,” filling the void that MIYA felt after his friends abandoned him.

And in the way that JOE becomes a paternal figure for Reki, teaching him ways to improve in skateboarding, and ensuring that Reki doesn’t self isolate when he’s feeling insecure.

And in the whole Ep 6 business with Hiromi acting as babysitter to the Gang.

Hell, even ADAM (derogatory) is associated with this trope. Abused as a child, he finds solace in an underground skateboarding community and culture he helped create- his own found family (or some powertrippy version of it anyway).

Again, queer fans see themselves depicted in the show, but this time in the way that the show gives importance to Found Family relationships between its characters.

3.) Shadow and Drag

This is one that’s more of an association that I personally made. But I was intrigued by the way that Hiromi adopts his SHADOW persona. He wears SHADOW like a mask, and adopts a personality seemingly so opposite to his day-to-day behavior.

Further, the theatricality and general “gender fuckery” of his SHADOW persona, to me, just seemed so similar to a the characteristics of a drag persona (I don’t know a whole lot about drag but enough that I’m drawing superficial similarities).

There’s also this aspect of a “double life” that he, and actually all the other adult characters of the show, have to adopt, which is a way of living that I’m sure a lot of queer viewers see themselves reflected in.

4.) The Hands

Ohhhh the Hands.

One of the things I noticed very early on is the way the show constantly draws our attention to Reki’s hands, which I thought was a little strange for an anime about skating. After all, skating doesn’t really involve the hands, or at least the show doesn’t really draw attention to hands within the context of skating.

I count 3 times so far between Eps 1-9 in which hands are the focus of the frame.

First, when Reki teaches Langa how to fist pump after Langa lands his first ollie, second, when Reki and Langa make their Promise, and finally, when Langa saves Reki from falling off his board.

And you know what they say, twice is a coincidence but thrice is a motif (no one else actually says this I think I’m the only one who says this lol).

I’m not really certain why hands seem to be such a shared fixation among queer people (at least among those I interact with). All I know is that gay people are just fucking obsessed with them.

I have a Theory as to why, and at this point I’d love for other people to chime in and “compare notes” if you will, but I think it basically has to do with repression. And in the same way that queer people have had to redefine the meaning of family, we’ve also had to redefine intimacy.

Being overtly physically affectionate with someone of the same sex, even if they’re your significant other, or often specifically BECAUSE they’re your significant other, can still be dangerous, even now despite the “progression” of society. Queer people know this, this vigilant surveillance of our environment and ourselves, always asking ourselves, “Am I safe enough to be myself?”

Already, Western culture is pretty touch-averse. That is, it’s considered taboo to touch someone unless they’re a family member or a romantic partner. And to touch a person of the same sex in any way that could be misconstrued as romantic (which is most things tbh) is a big no no.

There’s just A Lot to unpack there.

But basically I think that queer people, by necessity, have had to learn to romanticize mundane or unconventional ways of being physically intimate so that we can continue to be romantic with one another without “being caught” so to speak.

Kissing and hugging is too obvious. But a handshake that lingers for just a second too long is much more likely to go unnoticed, braiding someone’s hair can easily be explained away as just lending a helping hand, touching palms to “compare hand sizes” is just good fun.

But for queer people, these brief and seemingly insignificant touches hold greater meaning, because it’s all we are allowed, and all we allow ourselves, to exchange with others.

God, I’ve gone off and rambled again. What’s my point? Basically that the way the show draws attention to Reki’s hands, and specifically how they’re so often framed with Langa’s hands, is one of the major reasons why I clocked Sk8 as a Queer. It’s just something that resonated with me and my own experience of queerness, and I know that I’m not the only one who noticed either.

~

So in conclusion, uhhhh yeah Sk8 the Infinity is just a super gay show, and it’s not even because of the homo-romantic subtext (that at this point is really just Text).

Because what’s important to understand is that Queerness isn’t just about same-sex romance.

Queer Love isn’t just shared between wives/girlfriends, husbands/boyfriends, and all their in-betweens. Queer Love can be two best friends who come out together, queer siblings who rely and support one another, a gay teacher who helps guide one of their questioning students, a queer community pitching in to help a struggling member.

And that all ties with another important thing to consider, that what we refer to as the “queer experience” or “queer culture” isn’t universal. In fact, it wrongly lumps together the unique experiences and struggles of queer BIPOC all under one umbrella that’s primary White and middle class.

So I think what drives a lot of my frustration about labeling a show like Sk8 as Queerbait is this very issue of considering queerness and queer representation within such narrow standards, and mandating that a show must pass a certain threshold of explicit queerness to be considered good representation.

I get that someone might only feel represented by an indisputable canonization of a same-sex couple. That’s fine. But labeling Sk8 as Queerbait for that reason alone ignores the vast array of other queer experiences.

The aspects of Sk8 that resonate most deeply with my own experiences of queerness is in the way that Reki and Langa share intimacy through skating (intricate rituals heyo). For me, them officially getting together ultimately doesn’t matter- I’ll consider Sk8 a Queer show regardless.

Similarly, @mulberrymelancholy​ finds ace/arospec representation in that very absence of an on-screen kiss. A bisexual man might find representation in Reki, not because he enters a canon relationship, but in the depiction of Reki’s coming of age, growing up and navigating adolescent relationships. A non-binary person might feel represented through CHERRY’s androgyny.

That’s the thing, I don’t know how this show will resonate with other members of the queer community, and it’d be wrong to make a judgement on Sk8′s queer representation based on my experiences alone.

That being said, Straight people definitely don’t get to judge Sk8 as Queerbait. Y’all can watch and enjoy the show, we WANT you to enjoy these kinds of shows, and we want you to share these shows and contribute to the normalization and celebration of these kinds of narratives.

But understand that you don’t have a right to tell us whether or not Sk8 has good or bad queer representation.

And even members of the queer community are on thin ice. Your experience of queerness is not universal. Listen to the other members of your community, and respect that what you might find lacking in this show may be the exact representation that someone else needs.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Riddick

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Okay so Vin Diesel was like really hot when he was young)

- Considering who Riddick is, you knew of the man far before you’d actually met him. Stories of him had been circling from planet to planet for the past decade or so, so yeah, he was pretty popular by the time you; just so happened to, board the same ship as him.

- Well, we all know how the story goes: you board the ship, it crashes, and you’re subsequently deserted on a planet with three suns alongside a missing murderous psychopath. Just a regular ol’ Saturday, ya know?

- Riddick likes you the minute he sees you, though he obviously doesn’t approach you; given his personality. And, like a normal person would, you try your best to keep some distance between you and the muscled murder man.

- You did so up until you wound up falling behind as everyone else walked; mainly because you weren’t exactly friendly with anyone there and were in no mood to be squashed between people in that heat. 

- At some point, the sand below your feet had slid and shifted on the incline that was there and you’d stumbled a bit, preparing yourself for the fall; onto your knees, which was going to happen.

- You hadn’t realized just how close to the dangerous man you’d ended up finding yourself so it was a bit of a shock when a hand gripped your arm, holding you up as though you weighed nothing at all.

“Thanks.” you’d somewhat whispered, a bit embarrassed and nervous. He didn’t say anything, though you were also interrupted by Johns approaching you both in a sort of warning towards the man. 

-There is IMMEDIATE sexual tension between the two of you and it only gets stronger the more time you spend together. He finds himself drawn to your side, his body itching to be clos to yours, his eyes locking on you whenever they can.  

- There’s an understanding between the two of you, an alliance of sorts, created as more time passes; something akin to a connection. So when you’re preparing to leave the planet and you make it to the ship after him, you’re offered the chance to join him. 

- Whether you’re “selfish” and flee without the others or if you go back in an attempt to save them is up to you; he doesn’t blame you either way. 

- Regardless, you find yourself in the ship with him, flying off and away from that eternal hell of a planet. And when you’re able to leave each other and he makes it known that you “could stay” with him, it doesn’t take you long to decide that you would. 

- The two of you kiss before your relationship is made official. You’d been on the run with him for about a month or so, both of you obviously attracted to each other and getting into highly suggestive scenarios though neither of you ever following through; mainly him. 

- You suppose that you could consider some of the times you’d been around each other as dates, though; at the time, they were more so “god I wish you knew how much I love you” and/or “I’m pretending that we’re on a date and every time I can’t just lean over and kiss you physically hurts me” types of hangouts. 

- But, he finally kissed you as the two of you were returning back to your ship after a trip into town; or wherever he’d decided that the two of you needed to go. You’d just finished pulling off your jacket or boots and you’d turned to find him nearly chest to chest; or chest to face, with you.

- You’d chuckled somewhat awkwardly, stumbling back and making a joke before your eyes met his and an intimate tension filled the air; one you hadn’t anticipated. He walked towards you, forcing you to walk backwards until you hit a wall in the cramped area. 

- The closer he came, the more you anticipated it and right as his face neared yours, you’d closed your eyes. He waited for a moment longer, staring at your face, contemplating his decision, and just as your eyes were about to open, he’d pressed his lips hard against yours. 

- Your hands fisted into his shirt and his own hands moved to both cage you in and pull you closer at the same time. After some time, he’d moved his hands low, grabbing at your thighs and ass before he picked you up.

- It’s up to you to decide just how far you want things to go. But regardless of your decision, you’re now going to have a pretty hard time getting rid of him. You’re his partner in crime from this point forward. 

- He tries his best to keep pda to a minimum since he’s got a reputation to keep up and because he doesn’t want you getting tangled up in his issues. When you’re alone he’s much more touchy and since you’re not in public very often, his dislike for pda isn’t much of an issue. 

- Though he isn’t affectionate with you in front of people, he is pretty much always close to your side whenever he can be. He likes being there in case there’s something he needs to protect you from. 

- Please hold his hand. He probably won’t do it himself but he secretly loves whenever you do. He likes how small and soft your hands are compared to his. 

- One armed hugs. He’s big and strong enough that it’s pretty much the same as a actual hug; though he does give you those on occasion as well. 

- Temple kisses. 

- His kisses are sort of rough, purely because he’s a rough person. If it were anyone else then they’d probably just be considered normal kisses but because he has strong lips and a domineering personality they’re on the rougher side. 

- Kisses between the two of you usually start out slow before becoming more heated. They’re the deep, drawn out types of kiss that end with an abrupt pull before the two of you snap back to each other once more. 

- Soft, barely there touches; whether with his hands or with his lips. They’re so soft that you’re sometimes not even sure if they touched you or not. 

- Sitting on his lap. 

- He likes leaning down, close to your side to talk to you, as well as seeing you lean up to speak in his ear/get close to his face yourself. 

- Considering the fact that you’re usually not staying in the most comfortable of places, you’ve taken to falling asleep with your head on some part of him. You usually start out just sleeping near each other but throughout the night, you’ll drift close and end up cuddling. It’s usually you who does so but on occasion, you’ll wake up to his arm around you and his body pressed up against yours. 

- He likes pinning you to things when he kisses you. 

- He’s sort of obsessed with your thighs and butt. He’s constantly grabbing or picking you up by them, usually to carry you off somewhere so that he can kiss you better.  

- He’s sort of like an animal in regards to how your scent drives him wild. There’s been so many instances of him drawing near you or burying his face in your neck that you can’t deny that he’s trying to smell you.

- Good girl, princess, sweetheart; he mainly uses them in a sarcastic way but it makes your heart race every time and he takes notice of that.

- Getting thrown over his shoulder whenever he pleases. Make a fuss and kick or hit his back all you want, he’s not letting you down until you’re away from whatever he wanted you to be away from; or just wherever he wanted to take you.

- He lets you do things, giving you the illusion of being in control while you’re both pretty much fully aware that he’s only letting you lead him places or letting you touch him. Don’t be fooled into thinking that you have the upper hand, he always knows exactly what you're doing. 

- Living in close quarters together. He in particular is always squeezing around you or using the excuse to press himself against you.  

- He secretly likes when you try to tease him or are otherwise soft with him. Trying to go up on your tippy toes to kiss him, leaning in close to his face as you speak, lingering touches; things like that. 

- He pretends like he doesn't know certain things to humor you. He notices everything so if you think you have a secret or are going to surprise him, you’re wrong; but he may pretend like he’s sort of surprised for your sake. 

- Getting your stuff stolen by him. 

- Getting a bit of a scare whenever he just pops up behind you. He sort of likes being able to scare you, he thinks your reactions are sort of cute. 

- Stargazing. You probably convinced him to do it though he mainly just stared at you like a big softie while you were distracted. 

- His only regret about changing his eyes is the fact that he can’t see you properly, and judging from what he’s able to see, its a damn shame. 

- Bonfires and camping out places.

- Hunting together. 

- Occasionally dropping into some far off planet, maybe going to a bar or him stealing from a liquor store so that the two of you can sit and drink together. 

- You're pretty much constantly hiding out or on the run, well, he is at least. You may have to go into town for the two of you on occasion; especially if it’s a town that he’ll be recognized in.

- Little, somewhat morbid gifts; though he does get you ones that aren’t on occasion, both made by him or stolen from somewhere. 

- Well, it’s a known fact that he can smell period blood so he’s always able to act accordingly and a bit sweeter than usual when it’s that time of the month. 

- Tracing and/or hearing the stories behind his scars. 

- Bandaging him up and him doing the same for you, trying his best to be as gentle as he can. 

- Getting taught how to fight or shoot. He likes hoisting you up from the ground by your clothes or pinning you down, showing you just how much stronger he is. It’s kind of his kink. 

- Getting taught survival tactics, card games, and so on. It’s a fun way to pass the time and a way to do it around each other.

- While he can certainly be rough, we all know that he can also be soft and caring; especially with you. 

- Teasing; whether its with ominous connotations or not. He may use his teasing to gauge whether or not he can trust you or to find out your true opinion on something. 

-  He only ever wants to help you. Everyone else can be damned but the minute you need something, he’s right there to assist you. 

- He pretends like he isn’t as worried as he really is by making his concerns sound threatening. Like after you put yourself in danger, he’ll make some comment like “you do something like that again and I’ll fucking kill you”. It’s the way he shows he cares; he isn’t used to giving a shit about anyone. 

- He’s one of those “you don't have to apologize for anything” types of boyfriends. He wants you to be unapologetic with people like he is.

- Lots of jealousy; he doesn’t particularly like you being around other men though he does trust you. It’s not about him thinking you’d cheat on him, its about the one person who truly cares about him and the only person he can trust being taken away from him or liking someone else more than him. 

- Somewhat overprotective. He doesn’t underestimate you but he does all that he can to prevent you being in any pain; emotional or physical. Whenever you mention a stupid, little fear of yours, he’s reminded of how vulnerable and precious you are and how much he has to keep you safe. 

- He’s blunt, aggressive, sarcastic, and somewhat demeaning so yes, there’s going to be quite a few fights in your relationship; though most aren’t ridiculously serious or completely relationship threatening. 

- After you’ve had a fight, he either doesn’t apologize and the two of you just move on or he watches you and let’s the guilt fester until he finally approaches you, putting his hand on your arm and kissing your temple. If you were outside of the ship, he’d pull you to your feet gently, giving you an earnest “I’m sorry, alright? C’mon” and guiding you back on board. 

- He doesn't say that he loves you very often but you do “get one” on occasion, usually grunted/grumbled out and passed off as being no big deal. 

- You’ll be his mate for life if he can help it. He wants to be with you for as long as he can, maybe start a family or just live out your lives alongside each other. 

[blu-joons]

DATING GOT7 HEADCANON A⇴Z ⇴ Mark Tuan

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Mark is incredibly shy with his affection, he loves to wrap his arms around you or offer you a kiss, but he’ll always do it with a red glow to his cheeks. You can always tell when he’s getting coy as you’ll hear his giggle in your ear.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

It takes him a long time to build up the confidence to really talk to someone, and you were no different. You were the first to say hello on your third time of meeting at the studio, Mark was so relieved that you’d made his job easier. It surprised him more than anything how comfortable he quickly felt talking to you, trying to know as much about you as possible.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

An impulse came over him one night as the two of you met up for drinks, he wasn’t sure what suddenly prompted him to tell you how he felt, but if he didn’t follow the impulse, he never knew when he’d find the confidence to tell you again. It definitely took you by surprise, completely out of the blue, but you were more than pleased to hear how he felt. As his cheeks blushed at the end of his speech, you happily let him know how you felt too.

D ⇴ DATES

He works hard on making every date night special for you both, he’ll often greet you at your door with flowers or something to eat. He loves to do something active, he’s not one for sitting around in a fancy restaurant and talking. Your dates usually consist of something sporty, ice skating, rollerblading, anything that Mark can show off to you doing is a good thing with him. You can’t lie, you love seeing how athletic and sporty he is, even if he’s not super competitive, he’ll hate when he loses to you at anything.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

There had been a couple of dates in school whilst he was in America, but since he came to Korea, he’d never been phased about dating, and instead wanted to focus on his career. He knew he was starting to reach an age where he had to think about the future, and that was something he really started to consider whilst with you. He had goals in his life that he wanted to achieve, he’d achieved a lot with his music, but also, he wanted to be married within the decade. He’d never focussed on anything but his career, but when he met you, he really began to consider a little more about his long-term future too.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

His temper definitely isn’t what it once was, but that still doesn’t stop the two of you squabbling from time to time. He’s become a lot more sensitive and understanding in recent years, and that definitely shows with you. He hates arguing with you, especially when he’s supposed to be the one that loves and supports you. If the two of you argue, he’ll usually take himself away from the situation to calm himself down, and then when he feels relaxed again, he’ll come back and talk things through with you, and quickly forget about the argument.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

You knew how close he was to his family, but they quickly took a liking to you despite that. Seeing that Mark had someone with him whilst he was thousands of miles away was a huge comfort for them, each time he arranged to head home they pleaded with him to take you too so that they could get to know you better.

H ⇴ HOME

He was quite keen on moving you into his place quickly, he enjoyed the company of having someone around too, even if the two of you were sat in silence. Milo also bonded with you as well, seeing the two of you curled up on the sofa when he’d come home late at night was his favourite sight, one that he knew he wanted to be able to see forever.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Mark was the first to say, ‘I love you,’ at the end of one of your dates. You were convinced you’d be able to beat him on the air hockey table, but when you didn’t, and started to whine, he was quick to try and make you smile. Like his confession, it was a bit of an impulse, but he knew how he felt, even if he wanted to admit it in a more romantic setting.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

There are definitely times where Mark can get jealous, he’s very protective of you and your relationship. It’s usually when someone around you gets loud and he begins to feel pushed aside, he has a lot of pride, and if someone is capturing your attention more than he does he’ll definitely feel sensitive about it. If Mark gets jealous, he’ll get quiet, which you’ll quickly catch onto. You’re very quick to reassure him and shut out whoever else is around you so that you can go back to focussing on Mark instead.

K ⇴ KIDS

He was very open about wanting children in the future, with his three nieces already, he was keen on adding to the family. Mark wanted to do things the traditional way, once he was married, then he’d consider a family. His family loved to tease him about when he’d start settling down with you, as they could see how happy you both were, but also, he knew they were desperate to have more grandchildren running around the house.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

Mark’s laugh was one of your favourite things about him from the moment that you met; it was the sweetest sound that always brought a smile to your face. At times he was quite quiet, so his laughter was reassuring to you to know that he was alright. He found himself laughing a lot more when he was around you, he loved to tease you and tickle you, which also brought plenty of laughter out of you. You could hear his laughter often, especially when he was playing games with Joey which would always make your heart very happy.

M ⇴ MISSING

He’d had no choice for many years but to get used to being away from his family but being away from you made him feel sixteen again. He really struggled being away from you, he hated the lonely feeling of not having someone constantly around to laugh and joke with. It was hard on him, he’d try and call his family often, but also make time for you too, he never wanted to upset anyone when he was on tour. You’d send him Milo updates as often as you could to try and make sure he was happy, but he’d only smile properly when he came back from tour and went back to lazing around the apartment with the two of you.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Neither of you ever really settled on a nickname for each other, you tended to just speak whatever came to mind. Both of you had tendencies to use, ‘love’ more than anything else which others loved to tease you about.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your smile, he loved being able to physically see that he was making you happy, especially when he’d be able to hear you laughing away too.

P ⇴ PDA

PDA wasn’t something Mark was huge on, he’d often hold your hand or keep a hand against your waist in public, but that was usually about it. He loved to care for you though, he’d often offer you a sip of his drink or a bit of his meal, and he’d always try and make sure he was opening doors for you and keeping you safe.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

The question Mark often asks is to see if you and Milo are alright. He often feels like he burdens you by caring for Milo, even though you always remind you love to look after him, but if anything ever is wrong, he’ll be straight home in a heartbeat.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Whenever he’s streaming or playing a game, he’ll write down all the comments he sees written about you. Once his stream ends, he’ll sit down with you and let you know all the things that the fans said about you. Not only does it make you feel more comfortable around the fans, but it also makes him feel a lot happier that the fans are so accepting of you both.

S ⇴ SEX

It very much depends on the mood who takes control of these moments, Mark loves to assert his dominance sometimes, but other times he’ll be more than happy to sit back and let you do the work. Regardless of who’s in charge, sex will always be a very affectionate affair. You both like to take your time, and make sure nothing gets rushed, which often leaves the two of you with blushed cheeks by the end.

T ⇴ TEXTS

He’ll text you often throughout the day, so it feels like you’re there with him. He likes his own mind sometimes, but he doesn’t necessarily like enjoying that alone, so if he can receive a text from you whilst he’s lost in his head, it’ll always make him feel better.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

Not many people truly appreciated how amazing his personality was because he was so quiet, but no one valued it more than you did. You made him feel special every time he was with you, because best of all, you understood him.

V ⇴ VACATION

Since he began dating you, he loved to try and use his holiday time for you both, but you had other ideas. Whilst he was talking to you about a trip to China, you were busy organising a trip back to LA for you both. Not only did it mean the world to his family, but also him, knowing you were willing to make such a huge effort for him.

W ⇴ WHINING

The only time you’d ever hear him moan was when he was playing games, if he ever lost, you definitely knew about it, even from the other side of the apartment.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Kisses are definitely frequent from Mark, whenever the two of you are laid together, he’ll love to kiss you, whether it be the top of your head, the back of your hand, or against your cheek. You can always feel his smile whenever he kisses you, whenever his eyes meet yours, he’ll always end up with a horrendous blush which you’ll definitely tease him for. He’ll never stop kissing you though, he’ll just hide his face whilst he does.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his rock, no one was there for him like you were.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

It was a battle most nights for Mark’s attention against Milo, you’d often roll over to feel Milo’s paw resting up against you. When you’d wake up the following morning and complain to Mark that Milo stole you, all he’d ever do was laugh.

---

Masterlist

[dent-de-leon]

Mollymauk, 4, 5, 11, 13, 14, 15, 21, 22 :D (feel free to trim down if this is too many)

asksjkdf I'm sorry in advance because I got a little carried away so this got a little long, but thanks for the ask! I love any and every excuse to talk about Mollymauk...

4.) Best places to kiss on their body

I think Molly is actually very partial to forehead kisses! I feel like he uses that to ground Caleb in part because it’s something that’s always been very comforting to him--for instance, when Yasha finally gets to embrace him again, she also kisses his forehead. I think I remember Molly doing this for the twins back at the carnival too, so I feel like it’s a habit he picked up from the circus? Just the kind of little thing you do for someone to show you love them.

Aside from that, I think he would really appreciate a kiss on the neck, where most of his blood hunter scars--and that haunting red Eye--are. A bit of loving tenderness to soothe the pain.

5.) Guilty pleasures

Oh I love this pick for Molly cause boY does he have a lot of these!! He builds a life off joy and hedonism, so he’s got this in spades. I forget where, but I’ve definitely seen someone theorize before that the reason base pleasures are so appealing to Molly is because he started out just feeling like an “Empty” body, so anything that’s very stimulating on a physical level is very grounding for him? I really like the idea of that. I think wanting to feel like he was really “alive” and “whole” is part of why he gravitated towards decadence and indulgence, anything that made his heart beat faster.

The episode where we get the famous “Long may I reign” scene definitely covers a lot of his favorite indulgences. But as much as he loves being spoiled, I think he also likes making sure the people he cares about are pampered like royalty too. Taliesin mentioned before that the reason Molly likes gold so much is because he’s got this very childish perception that money is Good because you can use it to get Nice Things that make other people Happy. Since Molly’s been alive for only two years, I feel like a lot of his guilty pleasures actually stem from this sort of sentiment. The fact that he’s still so young and everything in the world is very new and exciting and he just wants to be as happy as possible--and make his loved ones happy too. It’s a very endearingly innocent sort of view.

11.) Bad or petty habits

Hmmm I feel like the one thing that makes Molly the pettiest is when someone tries to tell him his tarot readings are bullshit lmao. Even if he mostly thinks so himself, he adamantly refuses to hear it from anyone else.

13.) What gets them flustered

I think whenever someone is being very genuine and having a real heart to heart with him. Molly is perfectly at ease talking bullshit or telling pretty lies. He’s also very comfortable being very sincere and compassionate when it comes to comforting others, like the little ways he’s always trying to cheer up Jester, the forehead kiss for Caleb, promising Fjord the Nein won’t let him die, bringing Yasha a four-leaf-clover with the wish that one day she’ll feel happier.

But whenever people are openly affectionate and trying to have an honest conversation with him? I think that makes him tense up and panic a bit. He’s not good with letting himself be vulnerable, dropping his showman’s performance. We actually see a lot of this when Molly is resurrected and starts going by Kingsley. He knows he has feelings for the Nein, but he’s definitely a little nervous and overwhelmed when he confronts that.

Several times, Caleb assures King he’s still welcome in the Nein, and that always makes Kingsley either defensive or very quiet, keeps catching him off-guard. “Well for starters, you are with friends.” “Perhaps this is your first time meeting us. It's our second time...Stick with us.” “We have a habit of taking in strays.” “This is the newest member of the band.” Being accepted just like that, loved by all the Nein so unconditionally, just like that? I think it leaves him a little shaken, because he doesn’t feel like he’s done anything to earn it. Like he doesn’t deserve to be this missed and wanted and loved.

14.) Ingrained habits/forces of habit

I think there are some nights where he keeps looking over his shoulder and feels like he’s being watched--when the Eyes of Nine start to itch and burn, when it feels like something’s crawling under his skin--and he looks at the mirror and swears he sees a face that looks just the same but somehow isn’t his. And for a while after he first wakes--and again when he’s resurrected--I think there are still moments when he’s scared or panicked and he’ll just keep repeating Empty over and over.

I also really like how Taliesin used to just pick a random card from his tarot deck to decide what Molly should do. I can definitely see Mollymauk doing something similar--just pulling a random card from his deck on a whim, trusting it’ll lead him in the right direction.

15.) What it takes to make them cry

I feel like Molly rarely cries, mainly because he hates feeling sorry for himself or ruminating on any bad memories. He’s kinda funny that way; he refuses to let himself be unhappy, especially when he feels like he’s always living on borrowed time. The one thing I can see really making him break down is seeing his loved ones hurting--he literally spits at the face of his own death, but I think he’s really terrified of losing someone else.

If there’s one scene where I can really see Molly crying, it’s when Jester falls in that final battle. When Caleb makes this desperate plea that breaks through to Molly for a single heart-wrenching moment, “You’re killing her, you’re killing her! You love her. You’re killing her!” The absolute horror of that shakes Lucien’s control for just a moment, and Molly claws at his own face in retaliation. You can just tell how much his heart is breaking just then, how scared he is, how much he must hate himself. I could definitely imagine Molly shedding a few tears right then, if he had enough control of the body to do it.

Having to watch Lucien use his body to kill Jester and Caleb, the amount of pain Lucien caused Yasha and all the others, the nightmares of his death and black chains that forever haunt him after--I think those are the kinds of things that would bring Molly to tears in his lowest moments. And when he finally reads Beau’s book and finds out about how Yasha suffered a similar fate under Obann? Yeah, I think he’d get choked up over that too.

21.) Turning points in their life

Oh, there’s so many interesting twists and turns Molly’s life takes in just a few short years. Undoubtably, I think every life, death, and rebirth left the biggest impact. The fact that he woke all alone that first time--and then found himself surrounded by so many loved ones a lifetime later--I think that had a profound impact on his sense of self worth and his attachment to others.

That first life, Molly convinces himself that he must have been someone awful before, to have been left alone in an unmarked grave on the side of the road. With no one who missed or mourned him. He believes he somehow deserves that fate. And when he’s taken in by the circus? Taliesin mentions he never spends more than 24 hours alone. He’s...very lonely, I think. Someone who can’t bear to be isolated again. So when he wakes up again to a whole family of people who love him? Who welcome him wholeheartedly and insist they’ll love him unconditionally, no matter who he is? It’s beautiful, and it means the world to someone like Mollymauk/Kingsley. “I’m looking forward to the future. And I hope to deserve to have woken up surrounded by such people.”

Molly’s also mentioned that it was the Moonweaver who helped guide him when he first woke, who gave him comfort in having a new start in life. “Can you imagine what it would feel like to not feel anything about anything that had happened to you so far?...It’s very freeing. It’s the best thing--It’s the thing that happened to me. It’s not the best thing that happened to me, it’s the thing that happened to me. I found peace in building a new person. The Moonweaver--” However he came to worship the Moonweaver, I think it was definitely one of the most formative experiences in all his lives. I also like to headcanon the woman in a red coat Molly/King met in his dream was another visit from the Moonweaver, and she was either trying to return his memories or offer him another chance at a fresh start.

22.) People who’ve influenced them greatly

Oh, pre-campaign I think Molly modeled a lot of his behaviors and mannerisms after others in the circus, especially Gustav. He’s the one who named Mollymauk and presumably the one who spent the most time raising him and caring for him in that Empty period.

Molly has his own set of morals he feels very strongly about, and it’s entirely learned from the circus, “Things came back quick, and the circus helped. They were good people. They did a lot for me, and joy can fill an awful lot of a person’s life.” “I may be a liar, but I’m never a betrayer. I’m honest in my work and I believe in doing a good turn...I stayed with that circus for two years, and I know how people treat each other. It’s important.” When Molly is resurrected again, I think all of the Mighty Nein have very much the same effect on him.

[subbing-for-clones]

She Who Walks the Line Between Part 4

Maul x GreyJedi!Reader

Word Count: 3103

WARNINGS: Child abuse, night terrors, fluff

PREVIOUS         NEXT          MASTERLIST

       Six weeks had passed since your ship went down and Maul 'rescued' you. Thanking him with a kiss to his cheek that neither of you mentioned after that night. Since he was rebuilding muscle that used to be there rather than starting from scratch, he built himself back up fairly quickly. Especially because you were constantly nagging at him to eat if he didn’t take the initiative to do it himself at least three times a day. His face was fuller and his arms and chest much more prominent under his trademark deep v tunics. His thighs were also thickening up quite nicely you thought often to yourself. His eyes still glowed gold but it was a honeyed glow like a sunset, so much softer than they once were. No longer bloodshot and raging.

    Some days he would push his progress much too far and require soaking in an unbelievably hot bath. You would’ve been almost frightened if he hadn’t told you his core temperature was much higher than yours. You always offered massages to which he would try to turn down but you never really let him refuse. You could tell he wanted them. His entire demeanor would change if you only brushed against him let alone actually dedicated time to rubbing the strain from his muscles. Whatever horrors he dealt with as apprentice to a Sith Lord he had no comfort to turn to before, that much was apparent. Followed by a decade of forced solitude, you always made him melt with ease.

    He was a worthy sparring partner to say the least. Despite having new legs, he was incredibly nimble. His muscle memory was powerful at worst, awe striking at best, but he was still easily flustered which was his downfall. Every. Single. Time. Just recently you dodged a swing of his crimson Saber by dropping into a split and throwing your head backwards. The sight of it caused him to lose his footing. One of the goats bleated at him like she was laughing which of course sent you into a giggle fit of your own as you stood back up to your feet clutching your sides.

    Today you two would be doing something different though, assuming he would accompany you, which was a safe assumption. The two of you sat at your small table by the kitchen drinking caf, Maul was eating waffles you had freshly cooked while you flipped through an encyclopedia you yourself had written on the planet.

"What are you looking for?" He asked, trying to see what you were reading from the other side of the table.

    Leaning back in your chair you took a long drink of your caf, finishing the mug with a sigh. "Well, there's a particular ocean species that lives here that migrate through this side of the planet once every few years. If I remember right, because I can't find my notes..." You stood and walked to refill your cup. "If I remember correctly, they should be passing right by us today or tomorrow or… sometime soon. Honestly I don’t know why I write anything down if I can’t look back on it when I need it.”

Maul suppressed a smirk. He had come to realize that with all your brilliance and various talents you could be unorganized and forgetful. Just the other day he caught you frantically looking for a seventh goat, having to remind you that you only had six. Six goats, seven chickens, one rooster.

    Still wearing your dangerously short sleeping shorts and with your back to him, Maul had a moment to admire your legs without threat of you noticing. "What creature is it?" He asked while eyeing a scar on your inner thigh he hadn't noticed before following the curve of your backside.

"Well, they don't have a name, from what I know anyway but they look a lot like the Purgill that live in space. Not nearly as big cause, you know, space is a lot bigger than the ocean here." You stirred cream into your brew and sat back down crossing your legs.

Now he leaned back in his chair, shoulders shaking lightly with a silent chuckle, “you know I did know space was bigger than the ocean here.”

You playfully pointed your spoon at him in a mock warning before smiling and continuing.

"I'm gonna go down to the beach and see if I can find them. They're one of my favorites on this planet. We're nearing the mating and migration time of a few species actually so wildlife is gonna be more apparent around here."

"I'll have to flip through that book of yours and study up." He smiled at you.

"Well you're lucky you have someone like me who knows this planet pretty damn well. Even if I can’t find my notes." You flashed him a returning smile and stood. Your hand ran over his scalp affectionately as you made your way to your room to get dressed for your adventure.

 ~~~~~

      Maker, did she realize exactly what she did to him he wondered. He swore he could still feel her touch after she had left. He was indeed lucky to have her, not just for her knowledge of this strange world. A now familiar knot grew in his belly once again, the same one that never failed to show up when she touched him. He wasn't sure what it was.

    He stood and cleared the table, washing the dishes from their breakfast in the sink. The first time he did this she had actually flustered almost embarrassed 'thank yous' saying she had meant to do them herself. Since that moment he made it his job. After all she did everything else for him. He ran fingers over his hearts down to his belly and gripped where the invisible knot formed. Most of her books were educational, breeching just about every topic at least fundamentally. She did however have a small collection of fiction. One of which he had read that held a romantic theme. Was this what love felt like? Happiness? Is this what Lord Sidious had kept from him his entire life? Or was it simply admiration?

    Not ever having felt anything like it before he couldn't say but one thing he did know for a fact. He hoped against all hope that in a way he'd never 'fully recover' fearing once the scale she talked about was perfectly balanced again she'd send him away and continue her life of solitude. She had sought this out. She had chosen this life. This planet, purposefully unpopulated with sentient life. As far as he knew and saw she was the only person here.

    His brows furrowed and as if she could sense his distraught increasing, he heard her call to him. "Darling," she mewled just loud enough for him to hear. Possibly too quick he made his way to the door of the fresher where he heard the water running. Darling he thought, he had never heard her call him that before, he was sure.

"There’s a pack hanging from the door, could you fill it with snacks for us? It'll probably be a while on the cliffs." He silently carried out her will, obsessing over the name she had called out from the shower. Thoughts of her naked body dripping with warm water, calling out to him filled his mind. He had to physically shake his head to focus. Just as he finished packing the last Meiloorun she entered the room wearing her usual training garb, barefooted as usual when she dressed in it.

    He watched as she added her encyclopedia and another small notebook to the pack along with a pair of electrobinoculars and a blanket. Swinging it over her shoulder she beamed at him obviously excited to see this strange creature.

    Once they were out the door she started sprinting calling out "race you!" Maul smiled and gave her a few more seconds head start greedily watching how her body moved so gracefully before taking off after her. Allowing himself to fall into the role of a hunter once again. This however being the only prey he ever really wanted to catch. This was his element. This is where he was most comfortable, chasing, hunting. His legs propelled him forward while his arms pumped at his sides, feeling the wind push him onward towards his goal. It was a long race but her speed never let up, she was incredibly fast but not so fast that she could escape him. Just before she reached the cliff's edge preparing to jump, he darted in front of her and caught her in his arms, spinning from the velocity alone. His arms latched tightly around her waist and hers wrapped around his neck pulling his face to that sweet spot just below her ear.

    They sat like that for what felt like only a second but also an eternity before a shaking hum rang through the air. Remembering what she had come for she pulled away excitedly.

"I thought we would be early but maker we made it just in time!" He released her and she jumped off the cliff, falling 200 feet before using the force to slow her fall lowering her safely to the sand below. Maul followed suit and met her where she stood, her toes wet with the tide rolling in over the sand before pulling back out to sea. Salt was heavy in the air but he could still smell her. Making her way back to the rock and clay cliffs she laid out the blanket and took a seat, spreading out her books and setting the food to the side. He joined her, sitting where he hoped wouldn't be too close.

    Before his mind could roam too far, she gasped and pointed to the sea clutching his arm in excitement. Breaching out of the depths a giant creature almost took flight but just for a moment, calling out in a singing hum. They had massive heads and rounded teeth with four tentacles that trailed behind them. They were all painted in the same deep blue but had uniquely shaped and colored markings. Unlike their space brethren they didn't have bioluminescent streaks on the inside of their tentacles.

    Maul watched in amazement as the creatures sang to one another, jumping and diving back down below like they were dancing for Y/N and his eyes alone. Looking through her electrobinoculars with one hand and sketching furiously with the other in the smaller of the two notebooks, never taking her eyes off of the Sea Purgill, she was entranced.

 "Have you ever seen such a beautiful, mysterious creature," she inquired utterly enthralled.

    Now he was watching her, smile plastered on her face, cheeks rosy with excitement and salt flecks sticking to her hair. "I can honestly say no, I have not in all my life witnessed such a beauty." She closed her notebook and put away the electrobinoculars, pivoting her head to look into his eyes again; softer than she had ever seen them.

    She scooted closer to him so their hips touched and leaned her head against his shoulder. Cautiously, he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer and rested his cheek on the top of her head. Together they sat like this for hours, not moving, not speaking, simply watching the mighty creatures frolic through the waves on ahead.

~~~~~

    You didn't want to move from this spot. He hadn't touched you since he pulled you from your crashed shuttle yet you found every excuse to make fleeting contact with him. Now, with his strong arm wrapped around you, hand gripping your waist, your head nestled into his chest you could hear his tandem hearts beating. Beating hard, it both soothed and excited you. Falling for this tattooed warrior was not on your original agenda. Falling for anyone at all was never something you craved or saw yourself doing. Not because of the same reasoning as the Jedi you had tutored under. No, you didn’t fear attachment. It had always just looked like a distraction or a nuisance.

    Yet you found yourself falling for him nonetheless. Selfishly you had hoped that the scales would never again be balanced because once they do, once he is completely and utterly healed... he would leave. Wouldn't he? Why would he want to stay here on this unpopulated world with you and you alone? He had been forced into his solitude while you had searched for yours. You no longer craved silence; no longer did you wish for the seclusion of this lovely planet. All you wanted was to listen to the velvety melody of his voice, to feel the almost impossible heat he radiated.

    If you asked him to stay, would he? If he would ask you to leave with him, would you? You didn’t think you could leave. Not with the war raging across the galaxy. This was the only place where you couldn’t hear every scream of every person torn from life by mindless violence that wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place. Feel every tear through the fabric of the force every time a Jedi either fell to the dark side or was killed. You can’t leave, and if you can’t leave for him; how could you ask him to stay for you?

    The sun was starting to set and the creatures' appearances became less frequent. A realization dawned on you. Sensing your change Maul lifted his head to look at you, brows furrowed.

"The night of every migration a storm follows these beings. We should head back, whether it's rain or snow or wind it will be brought down on us soon." You watched him stand and extend a hand to you, taking it, he pulled you into a tight embrace. Both arms around you securely he whispered a thank you, lips just brushing against your ear. You didn't ask him what he was thanking you for, simply returning the hug with an equal fervor.

    The two of you quickly packed up, leaping up the cliffs and making your way back home. Just as the cottage was in your eyeline the dark sky opened. Temperatures plummeting, snow fell from the heavens with a savage determination. Running now, you locked your animals in the barn and cranked up the heat. Power was hard to come by here with only the infrastructure that you had installed yourself, allowing only one heater for your homestead. Giving it to the animals was an easy decision.

    Maul took your hand and ushered you inside, 6 inches had already stuck to the ground and your exposed skin was cold to the touch. Your bare feet no exception. He lit the hearth himself to take the chill off the room and wrapped you in a warm blanket. Before you could even think to ask, he brought you a hot cup of your favorite tea. He glowered over the fact that you still shivered.

    He took your blanket and gathered you up into his arms, draping the blanket around the both of you. Holding your freezing feet in his hand. The heat he put off was almost burning against your form but you were more than grateful, sinking into him. You both fell asleep in each other’s arms but the dreams you had that night weren't your own.

 A darkly hooded figure stood tall above a scarlet whimpering child. Tears streaked the red and black face of the young boy until the figure spoke. "Did I say you could eat yet?" He asked calmly but with venom in his tone. "N-no master I'm sorry I'm just... so hungr..." the boy was cut off when bolts of electricity shot out of his master and punished the boy. He screamed in agony, his cells burning. "YOU WILL NOT TAKE FROM ME APPRENTICE!" eating in front of the starving boy he screamed and continued to shock him. "YOU WILL KILL AND EAT WHAT YOU ARE HUNGRY FOR!" The boy still screaming managed to reply. "Yes master... I'm sorry master... Forgive me... PLEASE." He begged. He was attacked until his body started smoking "WHAT ARE YOU!" His master demanded as he finally released the child. The boy's claws dug into his forehead until he bled, sobbing. "I said WHAT ARE YOU?" his master demanded, shocking him again.

"I AM HUNTER... I AM FEAR... I AM FILTH... I AM NOTHING!" Screaming in torment he fell over, silent. He was tossed out carelessly onto a burning terrain surrounded by fiery pits of lava.

    You awoke first, tears falling from your own eyes and you looked upon the man that lay next to you. He was still asleep but he was shaking, whining, nails digging into his own arms. You took his wrists and begged him to wake up.

"Maul... Maul darling please wake up!"

     His eyes shot open blown out in fear and snarling, sitting up ready to kill until he focused on you. You softly pushed him down on the couch so he rested on his back. You leaned over him, wrapping your legs around his waist and running your hands soothingly over his body. Peppering his face in kisses whispering "you are safe... you are cared for... you are my joy... you are cleansed... you are everything." Tears welled in his eyes threatening to spill over. He gripped you with bruising fingers as if you would disappear should he let go. "I have you... you're with me... he can't find you here.." you continued to sooth him between tender kisses.

    He looked up at you with those shimmering gold eyes, one hand entangling in your hair, he pulled your lips onto his with a desperation. He needed proof that he was in fact awake and not in a different dream. You brushed one of your hands against his cheek and gripped the back of his head, horns between your fingers and deepened the kiss. He slightly opened his mouth in a pleasured moan; eyes rolling back. Taking it as an invitation you glided your tongue over his teeth and against the tip of his tongue which he immediately responded but not the way you expected. He broke the kiss and pulled your body even closer to his as if to turn the two of you into one. For the rest of the night, you held one another, he had never been so thankful for his night terrors.

[spices-and-cherries]

SFW alphabet for Joe Bang

I’ve actually been working on this bad boy for a while now. Surprisingly, some of these were pretty hard to write and required some thinking...

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Warning: mention of explosives and sex

A= Affectionate (How affectionate are they?)

He’s super affectionate all the time with you. He calls you ‘baby doll’ or ‘sweet thang’. He’s a believer in PDA and always has an arm around you (it’s probably more of a possessive thing than anything else).

B= Beginning (How would the relationship start?)

You’d kinda already be dating before either one of you asks the question. You were introduced by a mutual and hit it off - before you knew it you were going on car rides in the middle of the night or drinking together at Duck Tape. No matter what, though, if someone asks, Joe will tell them it was love at first sight.

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Joe really loves his cuddles on the couch. He enjoys having you either laying on top of him or snuggled into his side while watching TV. He also doesn’t care if he’s the little spoon.

He doesn’t really care if there are other people around either. Joe will just pull you down with him or tug you closer mid-conversation.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does his fair share of the work without complaining. He comes from a big enough family, so cleaning and cooking comes naturally to him. That being said, his cooking does leave much to be desired seeing as hard-boiling eggs is his only forte... 

At the beginning of your relationship, you kept sleeping over at each other’s places so it was the obvious decision to move in with him. You help with yardwork and maintenance.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He doesn’t seem like the type to end things unless its really bad or if there’s no way around it (like you got a job far away). In all honesty, you’d probably leave him.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It would take a while - you’d have to be together for almost a decade before he even thinks about it. Either way, he likes things the way they are and doesn’t feel the need to hurry anything up. It kinda already feels like you’re already married. 

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Joe, to put it kindly, is rough around the edges. He’s soft and careful one moment and acting tough the next. That being said, he knows his own strength and always makes sure that he doesn’t accidentally hurt you. He may act nonchalant about it, but everyone can tell he treats you differently than everyone else. 

In terms of emotions, he’s not the one you want to go to for a heart to heart. That’s not to say he can’t have one, it’s just that he doesn’t like it when conversations get too serious.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He’s a one-armed hug kind of guy, especially in public. He’s not much of a hugger. 

Joe also really, really loves it when you hug him from behind - his face lights up and he smiles when you poke your head from under his arm. 

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) 

A few months - a year at the most - will go by before he says anything. When he does say it, it’ll be out of the blue. You’ll probably be out on his porch drinking beer and talking. Joe would just pause and turn to you as he says it. It might also be while you’re causing some mischief or doing something wild. 

Joe shows his love through action and presumes you already know.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Joe gets jealous very easily. If the two of you are out and he sees someone getting a little too close to you, he’ll come up from behind with his arm around your waist or back. He’ll either divert your attention to him by whispering some nonsensical jokes in your ear to make you giggle or tell you that something’s happening and you should come with. Near the beginning of your relationship, Joe might’ve been quick to try and show off (if it worked, you’d never tell).

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Joe is an all or nothing kind of guy. If you try to be cute by kissing him on the cheek, he’ll pull you to him and tell you that you hit the wrong target. That being said, he really loves it when you kiss him on the cheek - there’s just something about it that makes him feel fuzzy inside. 

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

Kids love him, but their parents don’t. Since he’s on the same wavelength as a five-year old, it’s easy for him to connect with children. The problem is, leave them alone for half a minute and he’s trying to teach them how to light a match or make a molotov. All that being said, he doesn’t want his own kids. They’re too much of a hassle and he doesn’t think he could ever settle down like that.

M= Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Cuddles and sex.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Cuddles and sex.

O= Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s super open about somethings and super not about others. His family, for example, is something that he’s fine talking about and does it often. But any trauma or bad memories are things he doesn’t want to dwell on.

The first time that you did have a long heart-to-heart was on the porch of Duck Tape while drinking. The two of you were just leaning against the railing, looking at the stars, talking about this and that. Something about the air that night made it feel as though that you were the only ones in the world, so he was a lot more open than usual. 

P= Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Unless he’s in a hurry for whatever reason or just got up on the wrong side of the bed, he’s pretty chill. When he does get annoyed, he tries hard to not direct it at you, but that doesn’t always work out. That being said, you almost never fight. You’ve built up a steady rhythm and have learned how to spot the tells when one of you is not doing too good.

If he drops something or is tired, I would not suggest helping him out. He’s just fine and what ever it is, it’s nothing a few curse words can’t fix.

Q= Quizzes (Who much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

His memory is surprisingly good. It’s not the best (selective even), but not ban considering. He doesn’t remember every little thing by a long shot, but he does pay attention.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you took him to a tattoo parlor to get matching tattoos as a surprise or when the two of you went on an impromptu road-trip and got lost.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Joe is super protective, especially at the beginning of your relationship. As a big brother and being slightly stronger than the average man, he feels somewhat responsible for your safety. He can get aggressive if he needs to, but he tries not to, especially when you’re around. That doesn’t always work of course and you might have to keep some band-aids in the glove compartment...

Your presence alone is all he needs. As long as he knows that he can fall back into your arms, he’s fine. You don’t have to do anything - in fact just setting his eyes on you has helped him more times than you realize.

T= Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

When it comes to gift giving, he’s not very good. Like at all. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t try, but let’s just say that his brothers should be the last people he needs to go to for brainstorming... 

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Those damn eggs. Also, he thinks it’s funny when he tries to kiss you while he’s all sweaty from working out.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? Do your looks bother them?)

He’s pretty confident in his looks and definitely thinks that his tattoos make him look sexy. 

Joe loves it when you dress up for him - it makes him feel special. Besides that, though, he thinks that you can wear whatever you want to. 

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He might not at first, but that changes pretty quickly once he realizes that you’re already pulling out of the driveway. Even if you’re gone for one night, please call him. He’ll be eying his phone all day.

X= Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He’s both spontaneous and not. Joe likes doing things for the sake of doing things, but if you’re planning on doing something, he likes to make sure that there’s an agenda. It can be super short, sweet and simple, he just needs to know that everyone’s on the right page. You don’t even need to tell him what it is half the time, just that it exists.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He likes people who are smart and have personality. Joe doesn’t really understand why anyone would want to change themselves for others. 

He also doesn’t appreciate having his food taken...

Z= Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs? Does it change around a partner?)

He snores pretty loud and has a bad tendency to steal the blankets. Besides that, he doesn’t move around a lot and sleeps like a log.

Please send me any and all constructive feedback as well as requests! I love seeing your comments as well! Side note, I just started watching Hotel Splendide with Daniel Craig and Toni Collette. It’s good but I don’t think Craig and yoga do well together... Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this and, as always, see you in the next one!

- Simpy

[vampiremourning]

8, 11, 17, 25

otp asks (not currently accepting) 

8. What were their first impressions of each other?

Nines was actually under the initial impression that Katerina was a Toreador. She was letting this ruse go on intentionally; it’s not that you never see a Ventrue leave the Camarilla, it’s just a relative rarity and usually met with some suspicion (particularly in LA at the time). He didn’t particularly trust her or the vague history she offered up, but she was interesting and mysterious and sharp. She was confident and timid at the same time, someone who held herself like she was powerful yet somehow didn’t quite believe it yet. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find her attractive--the physical chemistry between them was fairly pronounced from the jump. Overall, he was just unbelievably curious about her, and was incapable of leaving it alone. 

Kat wasn’t really looking for any sort of attachments when they met. She was less than a year out from freeing herself from life under Apollonnio’s thumb and slowly discovering who she was as a Kindred. Other Camarilla cities across America seemed just as frustrating and stifling as New York, and LA’s environment was about as far from that as you could get. Nines was somewhat of a threat to her at first--he kept getting to close, felt too eager to poke holes in her assumed identity. But there was something refreshing about the honesty of the suspicion, that willingness to meet her at a point that also told her that he respected what she was potentially capable of. She found him to be intelligent and hardworking, and perhaps a bit idealistic too, but after what she left behind, it was a welcome relief. 

11. What causes them to fight?

Many things oh jeez. 

For real though, they do tend to bicker quite a bit. It’s not in a mean or aggressive way, it’s actually quite affectionate! Sometimes it can be mistaken for something for serious from the outside, but if Kat’s allowing herself to be needled by someone, it’s actually a really good indicator that she’s comfortable with them. 

That said though, they’ve had their share of serious spats and disagreements over the years. For one thing, Kat’s cageyness when it comes to the relationship itself. Thanks to a slew of unresolved (and unspoken of until more recent years, so there was genuinely no real way Nines could have known) trauma, she had a habit of getting close, getting on the verge of letting him in, and then panicking at the last minute & skipping town for a few months (or years in at least one case). Understandably, this is hurtful, and it takes a few decades before she’s actually able to be honest about her reasons for being like that. It’s not instant forgiveness, and she doesn’t think she deserves that either, but at least it wasn’t just some heartless whim. 

There’s also the question of vampire politics. Their end goals are largely the same, and they’re both very much Anarchs at heart. But Kat craves structure by nature, and while she detests the Camarilla as it stands, she also knows that having some sort of system in place is needed if you’re going to have any sort of staying power. Anarchy is a fantastic concept, but if everyone is scattered to the winds and the only people willing to defend your domain from the Sabbat and the Camarilla are clueless neonates, you’re kind of screwed. Nines isn’t totally opposed to this in theory, but the implementation of such makes him wary when he considers how the other Anarchs might react. Also, during Bloodlines in particular, he’s pretty checked out. She might not be around a ton for personal reasons during that time, but she definitely goes in on him for not taking the action she sees as necessary.

Other than that though, it’s all very mild. He thinks it’s funny to get her riled up about being a Blue Blood and also five feet tall. (He’s right. It is funny.) 

17. What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

We’re going to do some vague aesthetic-y things for this one. 

Things she associates with him: Motorcycles. The scent of gasoline. Dive bars. The tang of metal in your mouth. The sound of a gun being loaded. Worn denim. Fresh soap and aftershave hanging in the air after a too-hot shower. Callouses on fingertips. 

She thinks his vitae tastes like warmth, the heat of the sun beating down on your skin in the middle of the summer, like battery acid and hard cider and something savoury-spicy under it all.

Things he associates with her: Wine-red lipstick begging to be smudged. Intense stares that find you in a crowded room. The sensation of your pulse skipping a beat. Summer evenings spent sitting on the hood of a car. Expensive perfume. Heels on a tile floor. Black silk. City lights in the distance. 

He thinks her vitae tastes like something tart, sharp with a vinegar-like snap but also fresh citrus and the salt that rolls off the ocean after a storm.

25. What moves do they know work on the other?

Vaguely NSFWish maybe. 

True to her clan, Kat can be a little bit... demanding, at times. Actually, she’s a bit of a brat if we’re being honest here. She likes, blatant, over-the-top public flirting that’s only meant to rile him up (but doesn’t actually go into PDA territory). She’s exceptionally fond of tugging on him in one way or another--into a dark corner for a hint of what she wants to see more of later, pulling at his belt looks to bring that hips together, yanking him into a bedroom, etc, you get the idea. She’s perfectly capable of taking the lead, but prefers to initiate and reap the fruits of her labour in other ways. 

Fortunately for Nines, she’s also easily persuaded. But there’s one thing in particular that completely makes her short circuit and stops any coherent thought she might be having. It’s a deliberately casual brushing of his hands across her neck, very brief and nonchalant, yet full of promise for later if you know.

[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.

[brooklynislandgirl]

💖 either, both, neither lol all good!

Dream a Little Dream || Accepting

Pools of Sorrow-Waves of Joy|Anikeni

HOW LIKELY THEY ARE TO ENTER A RELATIONSHIP WITH THEM:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

If she wants to be poetic, Melakeni would say that they share a soul within the force and were staggered in their embodiment so she could get a head-start in learning the things she would need to know; kindness, mercy, compassion, understanding, and patience. She would say that every step of her life has brought her closer to Anakin and there was never a time that they were not one with each other. Keni would say a lot of things, if only she could do so without fearing for Anakin, for them being separated, from a host of fears that she does her best to suppress. It is sufficient and understood whenever she tells him she loves him, or even merely sends the weight of her love to comfort him through the Force.

~*~

WOULD THEY…

MAKE THE FIRST MOVE? Yes | No Neither of them is actually certain who made the first fumbling and innocent moves toward the other, save that it likely had something to do with the games they played, the things they read and explored with one another, and just the blossoming of two young people who have been together more or less for more than a decade.

SAY “I LOVE YOU” FIRST? Yes | No

It was defensive. Reactionary. He'd been surprised when she agreed to something likely foolish and absolutely dangerous, and when he asked why, her response was simple. "...Because I love you." Or perhaps it was softer, quieter still when she flung herself into his arms that first time she thought she'd lost him to one of his master's missions and he held her close. "I will always come back. I love you." Maybe both are the truth. CHEAT ON THEM? Yes | No BE THE JEALOUS TYPE? Yes | No PLAN THE DATES? Yes | No INITIATE THE FIRST KISS? Yes | No REMEMBER ANNIVERSARIES? Yes | No ~*~ BOLD WHAT APPLIES: THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS: friends to lovers | rivals to lovers | enemies to lovers | still just enemies | mutual pining | star crossed lovers | old married couple | perpetual honeymoon phase | stable and boring | stable but not boring | secret lovers | best friends hiding their feelings | and they were roommates | friends with benefits | coworkers avoiding HR | one-sided affection | weird sexual tension | it’s complicated | toxic relationship | a secret affair | an actual dumpster fire | other PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION: hand holding | kiss on the hand | kiss on the cheek | kiss on the forehead | kiss on the lips |  cuddling | hugging | affectionate messages or comments | pet names | pictures together | no displays of affection {with the exception of rooftop trysts, hiding behind pillars, hiding below the Temple...} PRIVATE DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION: hand holding | kiss on the hand | kiss on the cheek | kiss on the forehead | kiss on the lips |  cuddling | hugging | affectionate messages or comments | pet names | pictures together | no displays of affection | Biting | Licking | Murder-Suicide Plots | Boot Appreciating | Actual Sleep | Food Sharing | Cybernetic Limb Teasing | Other

DO THEY STAY TOGETHER? yes, this is endgame | yes but someone is gonna die tragically | something is keeping them apart | they part ways as friends | they part ways as enemies | they’re on-again-off-again | they have a super messy breakup | it was just a fling | other BONUS:

WHAT TERRIBLE PET NAMES WOULD THEY GIVE EACH OTHER?

To Anakin she is Tiny Phantom Salad. To Melakeni he is Za'lali, and the heart that beats outside of her chest.

~*~

Hell or High Water Orphans|Anibeth

HOW LIKELY THEY ARE TO ENTER A RELATIONSHIP WITH THEM:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Anakin took Beth by surprise. She'd been content to live alone, licking wounds, and trying to recover her health and sanity when he turned up on her doorstep one winter night three-quarters dead, suffering from total body-sepsis, starvation, and a whole host of physical, psychological, and addiction issues. She could never turn him away, not when she was confident she could at least keep him alive long enough to figure out where he needed to go. And then she realised he was an Orphan with a tremendous destiny on him, and on the verge of Awakening. Even in the best of circumstances Beth knew that he would be easy prey to the wrong kind of person. So she decided to keep him and help him figure out where he best belonged. Little did she realise how that was going to turn out.

~*~

WOULD THEY…

MAKE THE FIRST MOVE? Yes | No SAY “I LOVE YOU” FIRST? Yes | No CHEAT ON THEM? Yes | No BE THE JEALOUS TYPE? Yes | No PLAN THE DATES? Yes | No INITIATE THE FIRST KISS? Yes | No REMEMBER ANNIVERSARIES? Yes | No Beth and Anakin are very self conscious and very self aware people. Making the first move so to speak is really seeing how close they can come to the other before needing to find a reason not to, as their situation is complicated by the fact that Beth is older than Anakin, and is his current Mentor. And while she has 99 reasons to try and push forward, there's 100 reasons not to. And I think Anakin understands why Beth can't say those words, even if they radiate off her like heat on summer asphalt. Also... Beth plans dates to things that will expand Anakin's horizons; orchestral music, civic debates, charitable events, people and animal shelter volunteering, and Anakin plans things that will allow Beth to see the Nola that he knows, and together they come away with a deeper appreciation for one another's passions. ~*~ BOLD WHAT APPLIES: THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS: friends to lovers | rivals to lovers | enemies to lovers | still just enemies | mutual pining | star crossed lovers | old married couple | perpetual honeymoon phase | stable and boring | stable but not boring | secret lovers | best friends hiding their feelings | and they were roommates | friends with benefits | coworkers avoiding HR | one-sided affection | weird sexual tension | it’s complicated | toxic relationship | a secret affair | an actual dumpster fire | other

PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION: hand holding | kiss on the hand | kiss on the cheek | kiss on the forehead | kiss on the lips |  cuddling | hugging | affectionate messages or comments | pet names | pictures together | no displays of affection PRIVATE DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION: hand holding | kiss on the hand | kiss on the cheek | kiss on the forehead | kiss on the lips |  cuddling | hugging | affectionate messages or comments | pet names | pictures together | no displays of affection

DO THEY STAY TOGETHER? yes, this is endgame | yes but someone is gonna die tragically | something is keeping them apart | they part ways as friends | they part ways as enemies | they’re on-again-off-again | they have a super messy breakup | it was just a fling | other BONUS: WHAT TERRIBLE PET NAMES WOULD THEY GIVE EACH OTHER?

Anakin: ??? Beth: There's just a kind of way that she can drawl out "Anakin" that can give the boy heart-palpitations. And when she writes about him, she would use: koʻu ʻuhan.

[sortavibing]

hi! i’d love to request a matchup ☺️

my name is kayla (she/her). i’m a 5’2 female with long golden brown hair and light brown eyes. curvy figure. baby faced with long eyelashes. i’m an INFJ and enneagram type 2. gemini sun, pisces moon, leo rising. i’m quick witted and clever, with a very sweet natural disposition. on the other side, when i’m irritated or upset, my bite is extremely sharp. typically levelheaded and slow to anger. i’m a bit too realistic and i don’t sugarcoat anything. i enjoy sarcastic humor and playful battles of wit. i’m not clingy in a relationship and i value my alone time but i can be very affectionate. i’m passionate about meteorology/storm tracking and i’ve been a ballerina for over a decade!

what i look for in a partner: someone who can take my sass and give it back to me, someone who isn’t too sensitive. i’m a naturally anxious person and i prefer at home dates or something lowkey if not. i shy away from people who are loud and crowds. more than anything, i just want someone to peacefully coexist with. someone who’s okay with being in the same room, doing different things, and still considers that spending time together.

i hope this was enough info for you 💕 thank you for doing these!

hi kayla! thank you for requesting! it was a lot of fun to match you up with someone! here’s your matchup!

i match you up with kenma!

like you, kenma doesn’t need to have constant physical contact with his s/o, or does he need to be talking constantly to feel like you guys are together, and he really likes that he can just play video games while you do something else in the same room, and it still will feel like you guys are spending time with each other.

for your first date with kenma, he took you to a local park, and set up a telescope and some blankets and snacks, and you guys stargazed and just vibed for the rest of the night, hand brushing against yours, and with nothing but the crickets and each other as company.

kenma can easily take your sass, (have you seen how he treats lev-) and he will always be sure to respond to one of your comments with a shady reply, or just a facial expression that says it all. you guys can go on with these “conversations” for a good amount of time, leaving people around you to wonder if you guys are actually dating, or if you just barely tolerate each other.

kenma really likes watching you dance, because he thinks you look like one of his video game characters, so whenever you are practicing, he will give you his undivided attention, and throw in some compliments here and there. the first time he saw you fully dressed up (? sorry i don’t know much about ballet), he was just stunned because you are just so pretty :)

he doesn’t like to sugarcoat anything, so he really likes that you don’t try to cover the truth to make it seem better. honesty is a very important part to your relationship, and both of you know this and respect it, which has led to both of you trusting each other a lot.

when kenma first introduced you to the nekoma team, it was a little overwhelming, because they all started getting really excited and energetic (especially lev), because they were surprised that kenma got a girlfriend, and kuroo was a little grumpy that kenma was able to get a s/o before him.

along with quality time, i think another one of kenma’s love languages is gift giving, so throughout the day he will get you little snacks, and sometimes small trinkets that he thought reminded him of you. one time you got him a little keychain, and he immediately attached it to his switch and hasn’t taken it off yet.

kenma invites you to play video games with him, and his 2 favorite games to play with you are minecraft, because he can put his bed next to yours and give you flowers, and plasmaphobia, because he gets a little enjoyment of watching you be afraid when you see the ghosts in the game.

if he’s feeling affectionate, he likes to cup your face in his hands and just tell you how beautiful you are. it’s a really rare occurrence, but when it happens it’s literally like heaven on earth. after he does that he just goes back to whatever he was doing, pretending nothing happened, while you just stay there and try to process what just happened.

overall, you guys are just a really chill couple, and you both trust each other a lot, so a lot of people are a little jealous of how easy it is for you guys to vibe and just enjoy each others company. also, as his girlfriend, you can see a soft side of him that not many people get to see, so enjoy that :)

i hope you enjoyed!

btw this is a repost bc the last one wasn’t showing up in tags :l

[0h4thel0ve0f]

could we have headcanons for aizen and his long term partner? pre anything sweet even though we all know hes pretty trashy

Hi anon! I have a feeling this isn’t exactly what you had in mind but I couldn’t help myself. I hope you’ll still like it!

Aizen used Kyoka Suigetsu to make you fall madly in love with him so you would be easier to control. To him, you are nothing more but a tool he can use to make sure no one gets suspicious of him. After all, who could be suspicious of a polite, humble man who’s in a perfectly normal and harmonious relationship?

Making sure people see him somewhere far from any incident he caused is always an essential step in his plan, but you are his second line of defense, someone who can provide a strong alibi if he ever needs it for some reason.

He’s usually annoyed when the two of you are alone and you act too affectionately for his liking, but every time he reminds himself that it’s the result of his zanpakuto’s hypnosis so he goes along with it.

As time passes, he slowly gets used to you and being in such a “romantic relationship”, and he eventually has to admit he grew quite fond of you along the way. It’s certainly not love, at least not the type most people usually think of. No, it’s more like the almost intoxicating feeling of being like a puppet master, having such power over another person’s mind and actions. Even though after a while he manipulates and controls Momo almost the same way, you’re still different, after all you also satisfy physical needs he didn’t really feel like paying attention to before you.

To ensure people are aware of his relationship with you, he often takes you on dates and they’re as real as they can get. Aizen acts the way everyone expects him to based on the personality he usually shows them: the quiet, respectful man who always thinks of others before himself.

He keeps asking questions as if listening to what you have to say would be far more important than anything he could possibly say. His eyes are constantly scanning your face, taking in every little detail as if this was the very first time he laid his eyes on you. Without even noticing, he often reaches out to trace your skin with his fingertips, exploring every inch even though by now he probably knows your body better than you.

Sometimes when you see him do some research, you sit down next to him and take a look at all the books and notes he has on his desk. He’s never mad at you for interrupting him, instead he offers to explain things you don’t really understand about the subject.

Being alone with you, despite how much he hated it in the beginning, becomes something he looks forward to once he’s done with his official and private work for the day. A single kiss is always enough to cloud his judgement and with your help he temporarily becomes just like every other man in the world. No secret plans, no secret researches, no scheming… He even tends to forget that it’s all a lie.

But then he remembers and wonders if he should end things with you. He has Momo to be his main pawn, after all, so he could just as well let you live your life without him. It’s not an easy decision to make after all those decades spent together, though.

In the end he comes to the conclusion that he can’t let you go just yet. Well, he’s not even sure if he could ever let you go. As it turns out, he became honestly sentimental about you. It wasn’t an act or even a part of his plan. His plan was to keep you around even though he had no feelings for you. But now he has and this is a problem. A big problem.

Eventually Aizen decides to make some changes to the hypnosis you’re under because he wants you to see the real him… but he obviously doesn’t want you to tell anyone about it. So he makes sure you only remember everything when he’s alone with you, but forget everything the moment either someone joins you or he leaves.

When he tells you the truth, he only talks about his secret research and leaves out the part about using you for such a long time. His explanation of not telling you sooner is simple: he didn’t want you to misunderstand his intentions and be scared of him. This is enough to convince you to believe him and he’s honestly relieved to hear it.

Things go well after that but everything changes when it’s almost time for him to leave Soul Society. Taking you with him to Hueco Mundo is out of the question but he doesn’t want to leave you behind either. So about two months before his upcoming “betrayal” he comes up with a solution: when you’re on a mission in the World of the Living, he secretly goes after you and simply kidnaps you. This way no one could be suspicious of him, after all you disappeared long before he revealed his true intentions to the others.

By the time he once again modifies your hypnosis, everything’s ready for you have a fresh start as a simple human being. The basic rules remain the same, you can only remember him when the two of you are alone. But what you remember about him is completely different. Aizen wants to make sure you believe you are human, whether he’s around or not, so he locks away every memory you have about the world of soul reapers. This means you think he’s also human and he’s not around most of the time because he has to travel a lot because of his job.

The fact you don’t remember him when he’s not around means that even if someone found you and asked you about him, you would have absolutely no idea who they are talking about. They could show you a picture of him but you wouldn’t recognize him. They could even drag him to you but you wouldn’t know who he was.

[rocknvaughn]

New Review of Colin's play A Number

Link here:

(some plot point spoilers, but mild)

The Bridge Theatre is having far greater success with revivals than it has with new plays, and no problem attracting talented cast and crew to star in them. Both of its immersive Shakespeare productions – Julius Caesar and A Midsummer Night’s Dream – have been excellent, while big productions are on the programme for later in the year including wunder-director Marianne Elliott’s version of They Shoot Horses Don’t They and Ibsen’s John Gabriel Borkman. First though, the Bridge joins both the National Theatre and, as of last week, the Donmar Warehouse in celebrating the work of Caryl Churchill with a short but superb performance of A Number.

It’s notable that two theatres have chosen to stage One Act pieces that, unusually in our era of three-hour-plus marathons, stand alone allowing audiences to be well on their way home by 8.30pm. Far Away at just 45-minutes practically feels over before it has even begun, while here at the Bridge, A Number is just an hour long. Perhaps surprisingly given ticket prices of up to £55, nothing else is scheduled alongside it, with both venues choosing to allow the singular work to speak for itself. It may not feel like value for money based on time spent in the auditorium, but in this case Churchill’s play is definitely small but mighty.

Yet, her work can have a marmite quality, creating quite divisive effects on audiences, so much of the time either you get it or you don’t. But A Number is one of her most straightforward pieces, a fairly simple narrative about a family discovering their eldest son has been cloaned. While the science-fiction surface is an examination of the effects of science on society, a premise Churchill uses to think about the apocalyptic nature of man’s own self-destructive impulses, A Number is really about lies. Across just five scenes, the writer explores the nature of deceit as a father (Salter) betrays his sons in several different ways as information about the true circumstances of their birth and early life is drip-fed to both men and the audience.

It is a clever and well executed premise, one designed to wrong-foot the audience at every turn, opening with an affectionate conversation between father and son taking place soon after the latter has discovered that clones exist. This first scene suggests a terrible miscarriage of justice in which an unknown other has effectively stolen cells from the boy and used them to make unauthorised replicas now living openly and blindly in the world, unaware of each other’s existence. Nothing about this early interaction is suspicious and it seems that Churchill’s intention may be to examine the faceless demands of scientific progress that harvest humanity’s innocence for nefarious purposes.

But that is only half the story and it soon becomes apparent in Polly Findlay’s thriller-like staging that nothing is quite what it seems in this household. A similar tactic occurs in Far Away with book-ended scenes set in a familiar domestic normality that hides (and lies about) the seamier activities beneath the surface, where the corruption of innocence is a major theme. The same occurs in A Number as the son referred to as B2 is forced to know more of his father’s choices as well as the existence of his duplicates which has terrible consequences.

Findlay quite effectively uses a square-shaped rotating set to explore the play’s themes with each new scene set at a 90 degree angle to the one before. In doing so, the audience sees every perspective on the single room in which the entire piece is set, and crucially, each of the four walls that provide the limitations to this domestic sphere in which Salter has maintained a bounded span of control for some years. Designed by Lizzie Clachan the room is exceptionally normal, a living room / diner filled with soft furnishings, family photos and some tiger prints on the wall, all warmed by a bar fire, and unlike previous adaptations that veered towards the clinical, this is a domesticated tragedy in progress. Churchill is interested in the casual monstrousness that lurks beneath the chintzy surface of suburbia, the banality or perhaps more appropriately the thoughtlessness of evil.

Findlay and Clachan’s rotating set does two important things, it changes the audience’s perspective as each new scene brings further revelation that build into a clearer picture of the people it concerns. So by the end of the play we have seen the room and the circumstances of family life from every angle. But it also reinforces the much discussed effect of cloning in which the created being is the same but different. Salter is asked by each of his children about comparisons with their brothers, and we see they are quite different personalities in the same form. And so it is with the rotated set, what we see in each scene is the same room from a different perspective, creating an increasingly disorientating effect as the story unfolds.

Findlay’s control of the tone is particular impressive, there is something unnerving about the scientific discussions being had in this bland and unexpected environment in the first scene, yet the affectionate relationship between the men seems genuine, encouraging us to feel concerned that their rights have somehow been violated. Over time, Findlay changes the temperature introducing darker notes that build into something far more sinister as the result of the initial revelation is felt across the play. As each new slant is revealed, the mood shifts with it, so worry turns to desperation, anger and foreboding as Churchill slowly and often unceremoniously reveals one crucial revelation in each scene. The return of the room to its original position in scene five is a reset in every sense, with what now seems so clearly a cycle of hope and destruction ominously about to begin again.

At the centre of A Number is the ambiguous figure of Salter, a man who seems racked with concern for the pain his sons newly endure and whose initial instincts are to comfort while demanding legal justice for the misuse of his son’s DNA. Yet, it is never entirely clear whether Salter is telling the truth or why he tells the specific lies he chooses, so many he can barely keep track of them; which son is the original, the fate of his wife, his knowledge of the cloning process and the exact chronology of his son’s childhood are all subject to interpretation as he continues to give deliberately evasive responses. He appears to lack any genuine remorse for his mendacity and there are also suggestions of cruelty to B1 whose night terrors he ignores, a child that Salter decides is not up to scratch by the age of four and simply replaces with an improved copy.

Yet, Salter is also sympathetic, a father desperate for a second chance to put things right – an outcome at the start of the play he appears to have achieved as he and B2 express a mutual love for one another and happy life to date. Salter’s later confrontation with his original son B1 leads to revelations of grief at the death of his wife and a loneliness that haunts the play as a father grapples with his own positive legacy, a need to create a good relationship with his son to guarantee his own future. The momentary pauses between the five scenes which leaves Salter alone in each room configuration offer a contemplative pause, a man isolated and perhaps even abandoned with little left to lose.

The pairing of Roger Allam and Colin Morgan is a savvy one, two dedicated and respected theatre actors who have found a valuable chemistry well ahead of this week’s press night. Allam easily connects with the many conflicting layers within Salter’s character, he is at once a man trying to find a good outcome from past mistakes and someone who lies with astonishing ease. Under pressure, Allam’s Salter runs on, saying almost anything to dilute the confrontation and his culpability for the existence of multiple children, Allam ever treading that fine line between selfishness and parental love by mixing half-truths and outright lies with genuine emotion and bewilderment.

The audience never quite knows if Salter is a good man led astray by grief and a good sales pitch decades before, selling the soul of his child to answer some deep call of fatherhood, or a mercenary man using a disarming scattiness, a failure to remember exact details to malevolently excuse himself from blame while perhaps willfully bringing about a wider destruction to rid himself of the problem. Allam is careful to offer both interpretations within his performance, that keeps the audience guessing about his real motives.

As his antagonist throughout, Colin Morgan offers an equally layered presentation of character, rising to the challenge of playing three different versions of the same man. In each of the five scenes, Morgan alternates between personas, changing accents from two variations of London to play B1 and B2 as each man separately confronts Salter. And it is a play that wastes no time, with Churchill introducing the characters post-revelation requiring the actors to begin mid-argument, already at a pitch of exasperation and confusion.

Each man is given distinction by Morgan with B2 the nervy innocent, trying to accept the new-found truth about his cloned-selves and, at first, trusting his father’s explanation with a credulousness that is increasingly naive. The confounded approach hardens in Morgan’s creation of B1 who introduces an important note of latent violence, of the possibility of physical harm as he intimidates the father who betrayed him. Each of the characters is given two scenes so Morgan finds consistency in his characterisation, switching between them relatively quickly as the responses of both men to their father creates further tension once the brothers become aware of each other’s existence. The subtle hints of the Cain and Abel struggle in Churchill’s work and man’s desire to be somehow individually unique are brilliantly elucidate by Morgan in a varied and gripping performance.

A Number packs a lot of themes, meaning and ideas into just an hour of stage time in a production that asks big questions about scientific progress, human regeneration, parenting and legacy. Churchill is concerned here with the mysteries lurking beneath a sheen of civilisation and how quickly things unravel once the veneer is shattered to reveal further deceits. With performances by two very fine stage actors, Findlay’s production asks us to look beyond the simple dichotomy of nature or nature because the advent of medical interventions into the reproductive process, designer babies and genetic modification leaves us wondering whether human individuality exists at all, and how do we control who we become?