#yeah one article literally called it a ''romantic friendship''. you know what a romantic friendship is anon?

[subbyenbywitch]

[tv review] tng 5x17 “the outcast” (1992)

yeah, i have kind of a lot to say about this one.

so, if you’re watching this for the first time sometime in the 2020s, you’re probably thinking something like, “um, wow? this is shockingly good trans representation for something that was made 30 years ago? like, yeah, there’s some rather irritating gender essentialism on display, and it’s kind of ironic that the bad guys are basically enbies before it was widely understood that enbies were a thing, but still!” and you would be right if this was supposed to be about transgender people, but actually what actually happened is much sadder and much more hilarious.

you know that thing where misogyny was so ingrained into every aspect of victorian society that men and women were kind of forced into almost exclusively homosocial friendships, and consequently a lot of victorian literature now accidentally reads as hella gay? this is like that, but it’s so homophobic it accidentally reads as a shockingly modern depiction of a transgender character.

i’m gonna get into all the reasons why this sucks, and it really does suck, but i do want to pause for a second and enjoy the fact that bigotry is so unnatural and so governed by context that it can literally have trouble surviving in static artifacts of media because society is evolving around it. i know there’s plenty of counterexamples, but i just want to enjoy this one for a second.

so, yeah. what actually happened here is tng was trying to finally make good on gene roddenberry’s broken promise to feature gay characters and stories on the show. apparently they had been receiving fanmail pretty regularly about how awkwardly obvious this omission was by this point in the franchise’s history. if you’ve read my article about blood and fire, the fact that they didn’t just… straightforwardly present a character as gay probably comes as no surprise.

what they ended up doing instead was having a planet where everyone is functionally nonbinary and asexual (though, again, those being legitimate identities people can have wasn’t really a well-understood fact at the time, and i find it almost impossible that anyone in the writers room was approaching it that way) and, omg, what if heterosexual people with binary gender were the ones being discriminated against???

star trek can be really infuriatingly gutless and liberal sometimes, guys.

there is one good guy in this situation, though, and that’s jonathan frakes. apparently he strongly lobbied behind the scenes for them to at least have his romantic interest in the episode be played by a man instead of a woman, but rick berman was having none of it. and to frakes’ further credit, he also went public with his criticisms, saying, “i didn’t think they were gutsy enough to take it where they should have. soren should have been more obviously male. we’ve gotten a lot of mail on this episode, but i’m not sure it was as good as it could have been – if they were trying to do what they call a gay episode.” riker is increasingly becoming one of my favorite star trek characters thanks to how awesome jonathan frakes is, y’all. this is just the year of me finally realizing that riker is the fucking best.

anyway, the episode is about commander riker falling in love with a member of an androgynoous species called the j’naii. aside from my aforementioned frustrations, i find it really frustrating that stories like this often locate other forms of gender expression within an individual species where that’s just kind of… their entire deal? like, basically every species should have whatever kind of dominant gender narrative they have, and then all kinds of variations on that gender narrative. that’s really something that not even nutrek is really living up to in my opinion, and it’s probably the biggest thing i’d like to see change going forward.

the reason i still have this episode ranked so highly in spite of my obvious frustrations is that it’s actually just a damn good tragic love story? i usually cry when i watch it, but this time i rather intentionally distracted myself at key moments to try to keep myself emotionally insulated from it, and it did actually work unlike when we watched “the offspring.” but, yeah. there’s also a ton of nice little touches like riker seeking counselor troi’s blessing to embark on the relationship, and worf barging into riker’s rescue mission and demanding to help. everything really does frame this as a very important relationship for riker, and it would’ve been honestly terrific if they had just had it be an actual gay relationship instead of this weird tangled allegorical web. even captain picard, who initially warns riker that he can only protect him so far, is a consummate bro at the end of the episode when he asks riker if their business with the j’naii is concluded before proceeding on their next mission.

so, yeah, i have some pretty profound frustrations with this episode but it’s still kind of impossible to say that it isn’t a good episode. it’s not one i’m necessarily going to go to bat for if i see people (understandably) hating on it, but on the whole i actually do think it’s a pretty good episode in spite of all the things working against it.

b-rank

#star trek #star trek the next generation #star trek tng #tng #tv review #reviews #tv #queer media #trans character #so homophobic it's accidentally trans representation???

[fadewalking]

Yes!! Also, in the BTS content, the crew and the actors refer to wwx and lwj as boyfriends and talk about their romantic relationship and the feelings between them, so the series was definitely 100% written as a gay romance, not a friendship or a bromance or whatever.

Ahh, really? Knowing that.. helps, immensely. So thank u for telling me that lol. That def soothes some of the frustration I have about it, lmao . It’s better to know that they intended gay. And that the homoerotic subtext was not done with the intention of queer bating, but rather to just actually represent in a sneaky, censorship-approved way, that they are in fact gay.

#ooc #Anonymous #Asks #not gaming #not dragon age #yeah one article literally called it a ''romantic friendship''. you know what a romantic friendship is anon? #it's literally *all* romantic relationships #unless ur trying to do a hate ship thing. #lit all romantic relationships are also friendships. #so that cracked me up lool #what kind of twilight zone absurd world are we living in #that people would rather explode rather than call something gay #remarkable. #The Untamed

[thornedrose44]

Prompt: "Do it. Take a chance, I'm begging you. You don't want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been."

Read on AO3

“What is it?” Kara huffed out, her frustration finally reaching critical mass.

“What’s what?” Alex replied, playing dumb by pretending to study the DEO’s monitors far too intently considering Kara had literally just dispatched the rogue villain of the week.

Kara crossed her arms, hip cocked forward slightly as she leant against the central console, blue eyes observing her sister's profile closely.

“Whatever you’re not telling me because you think it will upset me.” The superhero clarified bluntly, her social hesitation and uncertainty having dampened over the last few years.

She had learnt the hard way how important it was to never shy away from the truth and avoid speaking around the heart of the matter. It was a lesson she had absorbed completely, and it was one she refused to forget - needing to prove she had evolved, had bettered herself from the version that had required teaching in the first place.

“I’m not…” Alex refuted, shrugging dismissively but keeping her gaze trained forward, “There’s no-“

“Look, I’m asking you out of courtesy,” Kara cut in, “but you and I both know that I could just as easily ask Nia, and she would fold almost instantly.”

Alex grumbled irritably under her breath - Nia still had yet to build an effective resistance to Kara’s puppy dog eyes and this particular weakness had caused no small amount of trouble for Alex over the last five years.

“It is Lena related, right?” Kara checked, though it was completely unnecessary.

For Alex to actively try and keep a secret from her, it couldn’t be about anything else. And it had been more or less confirmed by her sister's reaction to her threatening to go to Nia.

“Just because I’m keeping a secret, doesn’t automatically mean it’s to do with Lena.” Alex tried, though the conviction behind her statement was weaker than wet tissue paper.

The redhead side-eyed her and Kara merely had to arch an unimpressed eyebrow in return for the DEO director to deflate.

“Okay maybe it’s a little to do with Lena.” Alex admitted with a wince, rubbing the back of her neck in defeat.

Kara threw her hands up in exasperation. “It’s been over five years, okay? I’m fine!”

Her bellowed declaration of stability, made the nearby DEO agents look over with a mix of curiosity and concern. Kara grimaced at the reaction and as such didn’t resist when Alex grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the central room and into her private office.

Alex turned to face her fully, lips pressed tight together and hands firm on her own hips (it had always annoyed Kara that Alex managed to make her signature superhero pose far more intimidating than her own attempts).

“Yelling I’m fine, definitely helps your case.” Alex retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Kara had the good grace to look suitably embarrassed for a moment before launching into the same variation of the speech she gave every time there was a morsel of Lena news to be had. “I screwed up, okay? Big time screwed up - ‘regret it for the rest of my life’ screwed up!” Kara declared prompting a beleaguered sigh from her sister who knew the blatant lie that was coming next. “But I’ve made my peace with it. I won’t spiral into another depressive episode when I hear how happy she is.”

Alex shook her head, not even remotely convinced - not that Kara could blame her, the last time Alex had been pestered into telling her a Lena update, Kara had spent a weekend on a drinking binge that had successfully proven that there were limits even for a kryptonian.

“I don’t think-“ Alex began.

“What is it?” Kara demanded. “Is she getting another medal from the president?”

Alex shook her head, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Kara, you don’t want to know this.”

“Her and Kal save the world again?” Kara barrelled on, her lips curling into a jealous snarl. “The greatest Luthor and Super duo continue to make the world a better place?”

That particular news article had been printed and burned by Kara’s heat vision more times than she dared admit to anyone.

“Kara, please-“ Alex begged, expression crumpling as Kara relentlessly pushed.

“Tell me, I can take it.” Kara proclaimed, voice coming out high pitched and strained. “Is she dating someone again? Another famous actress? That Olympic male gymnast? What-“

“She’s getting married.”

A bomb must have gone off, Kara thought to herself.

A kryptonite bomb.

It was the only thing that could explain the ringing in her ears, and the way everything just… hurt.

A shard of kryptonite must have pierced her chest and cut her heart into jagged pieces. That was the only thing that could explain it.

“What?” She questioned, barely above a whisper. She didn’t quite recognise her own voice - it sounded shattered and unfamiliar. She also didn’t know what she was asking.

Didn’t know what ‘what’ was all about.

What just happened?

What did you say?

What post-apocalyptic reality are we living in now?

“Next week, she’s getting married.” Alex explained, giving Kara answers she no longer wanted. “Sam, Ruby, Kal and Lois are invited.”

She knew it should sting. Not being invited even though they hadn’t spoken in nearly five years. That she should feel something about the fact that Lena had omitted Alex, Brainy, Nia and J’onn as well - it further reinforced how Lena believed them to be Kara’s friends and never hers (which was one of the things Kara regretted most - how her poor treatment of Lena had infected and destroyed everyone else’s friendship with the youngest Luthor).

“To who?” Kara asked, tone cold, hollow… empty.

“Kara,” Alex murmured softly, reaching out to comfort her sister, “this clearly isn’t good for you.”

Kara jerked backwards so fast that the papers on Alex’s desk shot into the air, fluttering down around the sisters like snow.

“Just tell me!” Kara ordered, hands turned into white knuckle fists at her sides that would be capable of tearing through the strongest of metals. Her eyes heated but she managed to stave the fire in them as she glowered at her sister.

Alex slumped back, leaning heavily against her desk, running a frantic hand through her short hair. “Does it matter?” Alex muttered defeatedly, brown eyes filled with pity and sympathy as she stared up into Kara’s eyes.

“Of course it fucking matters,” Kara snapped in outrage before she had a chance to stop and think , “because it’s not me!”

The admission hung heavy and rotting between them. It wasn’t a revelation to either of them, though the fact that the intensity of Kara’s feelings hadn’t dampened despite the separation of half a decade was.

“Kara…” Alex breathed, standing back up and moving towards the blonde with the obvious intent of hugging her.

“I should get back to CatCo.” Kara mumbled, cheeks a fiery red with shame. She stepped hurriedly away from her sister and was already halfway out the door before she halted, turning back to call out a sad yet sincere. “Thanks for telling me.”

Xxx

“I genuinely don’t get why you love these films so much.” Lena remarked, hands cupping her just made cup of cocoa, nose adorably scrunched up as she snuggled back down on the sofa beside Kara, who didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her best friend’s shoulders.

“They’re sweet and romantic.” Kara replied with a happy sigh, turning to nuzzle into the side of Lena’s head for a fleeting moment as the film’s lead started her joyful march down the aisle. “It makes me hopeful.”

“Hopeful?” Lena repeated curiously, leaning away slightly so she could meet Kara’s blue eyes.

Kara shrugged, ducking her head bashfully, “It’s stupid.”

“Hey,” Lena murmured gently, freeing a hand from her mug so that she could interlace her warmed fingers with Kara’s, “you could never be stupid, especially not about something like this.” Her best friend asserted, before asking seriously, “You want the classic big white wedding?”

“Uh…” Kara blushed, cheeks pinking as her mind struggled to kick into gear.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena that the reason she loved weddings more than any other event is because they so closely resembled Kryptonian Bonding ceremonies. That the exchanging of rings, polished everlasting metal, reminded her of wonderfully crafted bracelets clasped on wrists. That it was an occasion for family to join together across generations, for the rare flashes of art and music on Krypton to take centre stage over cold science.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena that after being alone, abandoned and lost - ripped away from her home in the cruelest of ways - that the idea of belonging to someone else, of having a home in someone else regardless of time or location was what Kara wanted more than anything else.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena because it would require admitting the truth of who she really was, it would require taking accountability for years of lies.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena without losing her forever.

“Yeah.” Kara coughed awkwardly, “I want the whole thing. Beautiful dress, surrounded by family… the love of my life at the end of the aisle. Everything.” She shot Lena a side-long glance, “I’m guessing you don’t?”

“Never really been my thing,” Lena admitted readily and Kara’s heart twisted at how Lena didn’t hesitate to bare herself, how she gave all of herself when it could be argued that Kara - at best - only gave half, “probably because I can’t imagine I have enough people in my life to invite and feel ‘surrounded’.” Lena pursed her lips thoughtfully, “I also don’t get the need for the spectacle. Just the idea that there’s someone out there that would want to…” Kara watched her best friend deflate, expression wistful and pained, “be with me, love me like that… that’s more than enough.”

Kara’s eyes stung with barely suppressed tears at how little Lena thought of herself. Whoever had the privilege of marrying her best friend would be the single luckiest and most fortunate person in the universe and Kara wished Lena knew that, wished she believed it. But when she opened her mouth to say it, to proclaim it, her breath faltered and her courage abandoned her… like it always did with the youngest Luthor.

“So no white dress?” Kara muttered instead, voice meek and lacking the lightheartedness that should have carried the question.

It didn’t matter, though, Lena let out a quick exhale that resembled something on the edge of laughter. Kara’s escalating heart rate settled at that, however, it did little to alleviate the pang of regret that was steadily accompanying all her interactions with the CEO.

“Well, I guess I could be convinced by someone special.” Lena teased, shooting Kara an overtly salacious wink that wouldn’t - on the surface - be considered genuine.

“Anyone that marries you will have to be special.” Kara replied, the statement tumbling out instantly.

It wasn’t the heartfelt confession that Kara wished it to be and it wasn’t quite light enough to be dismissed as a friendly reassurance. Instead, it was yet another thing that fell into the ethereal greyness that lied between them, something to tuck away and think back on late at night when they tried to work out if the other meant it the way they wished they did.

“Yeah?” Lena whispered, piercing green eyes studying Kara’s face closely.

Kara swallowed thickly, “Yeah.”

Xxx

Lena found out less than six weeks after that movie night. They defeated Lex and Kara had been on the edge of breathing easy, of being able to simply relax back into her life when it all came crashing down.

They had been at Games Night and Kara had been antsy, waiting for her best friend to arrive. The thought of pulling Lena into a hug had been what she had been looking forward to most all day.

Kara was at peace, laughing and drinking with her friends - her family - when Lena had arrived. Kara had beamed up at her immediately and for a second Lena’s entrancing green eyes lit up in return before turning dark and distant.

Kara’s smile faltered, crinkle appearing between her brows when-

The wine bottle smashed into the wall behind Kara’s head.

Deathly silence fell over the area.

Kara looked into hollow, emptied out versions of her favourite green. She would have preferred anger, fury, rage… the defeated nothingness staring back at the Kryptonian was far worse.

Lena turned and left, grinding Kara’s heart to dust and taking the sand particles left with her.

She knew.

She knew because Lex had told her.

She knew because she had gone to stop her brother, intent on saving the world like always only to find out that those she was saving the world for didn’t view her as their equal. That the people she treated as family had kept her on the outskirts. That her best friend had lied, had manipulated, had-

xxx

It was Lois that found out everything from Lena.

When the fallout had happened, as Kara and the Superfriends realised what they had lost, the blonde hero sent notice to her cousin that his identity was probably known as well (mostly because she remembered how hurt she had been when Kal shared her secret without her consent). Kal and Lois had arrived almost immediately, frantic and terrified (especially with baby Jon to consider) at the concept of a Luthor knowing their identity.

Kara, joined by all the Superfriends, quickly put their minds to rest, sharing Lena’s actions from before, her dependability, kindness and inherent goodness. Kal and Lois were convinced their secret was safe but they were horrified to hear how Lena had been isolated and kept at arms length after her considerable good deeds. Alex and the others had squirmed uncomfortably and tried to weakly talk around their hesitancy.

Kal and Lois had simply looked at Kara for an explanation but she had none. Yet again the words would not come.

It was Lois, therefore, that had sought out the youngest Luthor and through her incredible tenacity was able to gain access where everyone else was rebuffed and harshly rejected.

It was Lois that comforted Lena, gave her support and sympathy.

It was Lois that relayed Lena’s demand that they give her space.

It was Lois that suggested Lena return to Metropolis - presenting it as a way to celebrate how L-Corp, after Lena’s repeated sacrifices and heroism, was fully rehabilitated and ready to reclaim its once home.

It was Lois that encouraged Lena and Kal to work together becoming an unstoppable force that Kara and Lena had always danced on the precipice of.

A Luthor and a Super. Saving the world.

xxx

Kara did as asked. Gave Lena space. Or at least the semblance of space.

She checked in constantly, hovered nearby throughout the days and nights leading upto L-Corp’s departure and Lena along with it. She followed Lena’s jet to Metropolis, a sentinel ensuring safe passage.

She kept her distance for three months. Three months of stony silence before she broke.

Snapped, more like.

Landing on Lena’s new balcony in Metropolis that had been specially built for Superman this time - not for her, though Kara, at the time, had hoped that she had been considered consciously or unconsciously as well.

Kara couldn’t remember the exact words.

She remembered crying from beginning to end.

Remembered ‘I loved you’ - past tense.

Remembered finally breaking through Lena’s cold, hardened shell to the raw, bleeding wound hidden underneath and regretting it almost immediately.

Remembered how seeing Lena’s agony was worse than kryptonite, worse than watching Krypton burn…

Remembered Lena saying she needed time to heal, for Kara to stop hovering nearby - because she knew, she sensed Kara’s presence even without seeing her once - and to give her time to stop thinking of Kara and feeling only pain when she did so.

Remembered promising to do just that.

Remembered a timer starting to count in her head - the seconds that she would be condemned to purgatory.

Remembered the hope that just refused to go out - the hope that whispered give it time, give it time, give it time with every beat of her heart.

Remembered thinking that given enough time Lena would reach out and they would get the chance that Kara had almost destroyed for them.

Remembered flying zig-zagged and dangerous to Alex where her endless stream of tears returned to full flow as she sobbed into her sister’s shoulder using words and phrases like ‘heartbroken’ and ‘I love her’ and ‘I can’t survive this pain’ and ‘what do I do?’ and ‘I can’t breathe’.

Remembered a hollowed out shell of Kara Danvers moving through the motions for a year, for two, three, four… five...

Remembered taking up drinking to excess whenever she saw Lena’s life flourish and grow - not because she didn’t want Lena to be happy, that was what Kara wanted and wished for more than anything - because she wasn’t there with her for those life-changing events.

Remembered Alex and Kelly’s worries growing with each occurrence, intervening more and more to such a degree that they encouraged Kara to consider AA meetings - she did eventually, and found destroying entire junkyards to be a healthier coping mechanism, external destruction rather than internal.

Remembered Brainy at the behest of Alex, setting up Kara’s phone and computer to prevent searching for any keywords affiliated to Lena and to alert Alex if Kara ever managed to stumble upon a news article.

Remembered listening to Kal and Lois skipping large parts of stories where it was clear that Lena was involved - it was nice in some way to know Lena was getting the credit she deserved, but it hurt when Kal’s stories started to involve gaps at Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year (events that made Kara’s loneliness even more acute and her longing intensify).

Remembered her life without Lena.

Remembered regret and guilt and loss.

Remembered-

“She’s getting married.”

xxx

Kara shouldn’t have been there. Shouldn’t be anywhere in the vaguest vicinity of where she currently was.

The bride was dressed in a simple silky white shift, sipping intermittently from her champagne glass as she stared contemplatively up at the designer white dress hanging off the door in front of her. Raven locks were pinned up, so tight and intricate that it made Kara wince sympathetically at how it must tug and pinch at the bride’s scalp - she’d always preferred it down, loose and curling… soft and inviting. The bride’s make-up was artistic with a dramatic edge that would captivate but made her look… not like herself in Kara’s opinion.

Or maybe after five years it made Lena look more like herself - the version of herself she had become once free of Kara and all the pain she brought into her life.

She was hovering outside the dressing room window, trying to work out how far she was willing to take this. If it would be better to leave without saying anything, to try and leave some part of Lena’s life unspoiled.

It was the fear that she had always given into when she was best friends with Lena that made her decision for her. Like speaking her truth and learning to ask for what she wanted - Kara had also promised herself that she would never allow that bone deep fear to stop her ever again.

The window was open and it was as good an invite as Kara was ever going to get.

“Lena?”

The beautiful bride-to-be jerked in her place, champagne glass nearly tumbling to the floor but saved at the last second.

She didn’t turn around for a beat… then two…

Kara was just about to escape back through the window when Lena exhaled slowly and pivoted round to meet her.

“Kara?” Lena breathed out, green eyes closed off and wary.

The kryptonian studied the love of her life for a moment, taking in every little detail - soaking it all up as if accepting that this would be the last time she might ever get to see it again. That the timer that had counted past five years would stop after this moment, the hope powering it gone forever.

“Don’t marry them, please.” Kara requested, no flowery language, no build up. Just the honest truth.

“What?” Lena’s jaw dropped and the champagne glass didn’t survive the second shock, crashing to the ground - released by trembling fingers.

“Don’t marry them.” Kara repeated, uncaring of how the carpet below them soaked up the amber liquid.

Lena’s expression flitted through an array of emotions before settling on indignant rage, “And why the hell not?!”

Kara didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat, instead she stood taller, the crest of her super suit catching the early afternoon light. “Because it should have been me. It still should be me.”

Lena scoffed in disbelief, “You can’t be serious. Now? You’re doing this now?”

Kara pursed her lips, fighting back the regret that always came with the reminders of countless missed opportunities. “Yes.”

The straightforwardness of Kara’s answers seemed to be throwing Lena, leaving her wrong-footed, clearly expecting the blonde to talk around and hint and imply like she used to.

But Kara had learnt. (The lesson had been too painful not to.)

“You had years, Kara!” Lena argued, “Years where I…. I threw myself at you. Practically begged you to love me… to trust me…”

“I know.” Kara replied sadly, wanting desperately to reach out when Lena’s pretty green eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. “I know. But I’m here now.”

“I don’t want you to be.” Lena muttered, arms crossed over her chest and head ducked downwards to hide her expression.

“I know that too.” Kara assured, fingers twitching with the desire to make contact, to comfort and coax - even after all these years her body remembered, the pathways of hardwired instinct related to her best friend were still there, still active even if temporarily closed for service.

“Then why are you here?” Lena murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Lena’s head snapped up at that, green eyes like saucers.

Kara’s single biggest regret was that she had never said those words to Lena before, had alluded and pointed at them during their final interaction but had never outright said them. And Lena had deserved to hear them then and deserved to hear them now to forever vanquish the doubts that had always been with her.

“Because I’m in love with you and we didn’t get our chance.” Kara affirmed, taking a half step closer to the bride, her red heeled boots and Lena’s bare feet meaning the younger woman had to tip her head ever so slightly back to maintain eye contact. “We didn’t get our chance because of me. Because I was afraid, I was so afraid of losing you. Of doing even the slightest thing that could mean you weren’t in my life. And in the end every action I took out of fear of losing you ensured just that. I’ve spent five years without you, Lena, and I can’t bear a single day more.”

“Kara,” Lena whispered, “I’m getting married.”

“I know.” Kara smiled sadly before adding, “Don’t.”

“What are you suggesting? Seriously?” Lena sighed, shaking her head mournfully and Kara knew she was losing her then.

“I’m suggesting that we have our chance now before it's gone forever.”

Gathering the small amount of courage Kara had left, she tentatively let her hands nudge forwards, brushing against Lena’s cool, pale fingers. That small contact was everything. Made it easier to breathe, made the colours of the world more vibrant, made everything just more.

“I let fear hold me back from the person that made me happiest in the entire universe and I won’t let it hold me back again.”

“Kara…” Lena whimpered, glancing back over her shoulder at the closed door that her wedding dress was displayed on, though she didn’t pull her hand away from Kara’s touch, didn’t flinch or retreat.

“Do it.” Kara pleaded, stepping across that final slither of distance between them, her forehead leaning forward to rest gently against the side of Lena’s, “Take a chance, I’m begging you. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been.”

Lena inhaled shakily, head returning to forward facing - foreheads pressed against one another, breathing in the same air - and then… and then…

Lena’s hands slipped fully into Kara’s, fingers intertwining together.

#supercorp #supercorpfic #i feel no remorse for this #tempted to do a part two

[redxblueihateloveyou]

Hey i really love your blog!!! I just plucked the courage to actually send u an ask fhdjhd but GOSH i love your video edits and your gifs and your meta article posts, you're so articulate and you can explain/describe moments in a way that makes me go "oh wow, i cant believe i haven't seen it that way before!!" Haha ANYWAYS i'm just here to say that i completely agree with what all u said, Free creators might do a lil fanservice here and there for the 25 ships that exists within the fandom's circle, but rinharu's storyline is clearly the most romantic one! And i'd argue it's the one closest to being canon esp after part 1, i mean the fact that they put such an explosive emotional outburst right at the end of the second to the last movie means a lot. It's like reinforcing the fact that this series has always been about them, and everything that has happened only happened either because they met or they grew appart and miss eachother. I kinda feel like maybe.. juust maayyybe there's a chance KA wants to make the ship canon, since it's the last movie and they want to end it on a highnote maybe (bcs honestly i think the only reason they've been holding back is purely bcs of the merch sales, since they don't have a problem showing a wholesome lesbian love story in kobayashi maid dragon) butt i could be wrong, maybe i'm just overly optimistic and delusional, they could somehow ruin it and give an ending that panders to all the ships again 😅🥲, but at least there's a clear-cut guarantee that part 2 would dedicate a large portion of it fixing rin and haru's fight!!! Oohh how can i wait another 6 months now!!😭😭 (sorry for the long ask btw!! 🙏🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️)

OMG thank you so so much!! For watching my vids too! ❤️❤️❤️ It really means a lot to me! Ahhhh wow, thats the longest ask I've ever recieved! 😍 I'm trying to explain myself so hard lol I'm glad its appreciated, bc sometimes I'm like "I don't fucking know how to say this" xD

Well, you know me, I only care for one ship, which is the only one with confirmed info that they're both actually gay and have mutual feelings for each other. There are some other ships in free! I'm fine with (those do not include Rin or Haru in them xD), but I just mostly don't care, bc after reading all the stuff, you can see that in some of those to one the other one is actually like his second option, which I just do not like. Others I just don't even see, bc again to me who witnessed great close male friendships and having two sisters who I'm very close to, I just do not see anything romantic in that.

It's not just Free! tbh, it's like any sports anime these days. They see two guys walking together, it's a ship. And like no one cares if they're just bros. Like I'd get i they did some fanservice fanservice, but like I never saw anyone in Free! crossing the line the way rinharu do. I can without thinking much name you 10 rh moments that no matter how hard you think can't be explain as being bros, but can't name one when it comes to others. I just find some ppl shipping everyone with everyone weird sometimes. It's like western fans see like some eastern actors or singers slap each other ass lovingly and they're like "oh they're fucking" I'm like "yeah, ofc all 500 of them, you're absolutely right". And Free! doesn't do anything even like that, I just do not get sometimes like what moment even brought on some ships. I'm genuinely confused. Albert and Haru? You fucking fell from a sakura tree or smth? I'm...

I'm especially confused when it comes to guys, whose character type is who I call "I only want this one and if I can't have it, then I'm ok" xD. It just always surprised me, when they try to pair up them with someone else, it's like a complete ooc.

I'm also not into this whole "well, if there are gays in this anime, than everyone there is gay". I'm like... huh. It's like with KNB and MDZS I had same feeling. It's like you have already couples there who are canon/borderline canon, why do you need another 10 who don't even interact or just don't even go there? I'm always so confused in those situations. Or like wangxian is married and some are like "no, I actually don't like it, let me write a fic when they're with other ppl". Lan Zhan... being in love or having sex with someone else? Yeah, that's not Lan Zhan, dude, you're writing about someone else. Might as well change the name at this point.

But last time I went to twitter someone had a thread about how if they make s4 of Free! they should mainly explore there Momo's angst (and no, it wasn't a joke), so I'm already like, I'm just.. nothing will surprise me no more. But I'm forever gonna be confused.

Yeah, I eel you about "going there". I mean seeing part of it, it just kinda cemented my confusion, bc I do not get how it can be considered platonic. We were just discussing since yesterday with @freeseafirefly how I now even more perplexed and do not understand how they will resolve it without going into relationship territory. It's just our point here is that like... no one forced them to go there (I mean its not like this whole fandom has some wild expectations or anything already), we were waiting or our usual friendship and swimming and maybe tiny conflict about struggles of pro-careers and some usual rh implications (maybe all the rh gay in dramas as always). Not some pure fanfiction coming to life here haha.

Like why I'm laughing is bc I twice used in my "fics" bringing up him leaving Haru as a force to push the confession, bc there's no way if he adresses this it won't lead to this. And now we not only have this (bc Haru just basically layed it out there), but an actual scene of him playing on their feelings for each other and a literal image of Rin leaving and "taking Haru's heart with him" to the point when he's for the first time in his life openly crying on the ground. And it's not like this scene can be interpreted as anything else, the whole fandom talks same, bc the whole fight was just about them, what Haru said was just about them, there's a literal boom of his heart getting out of his chest, before he falls and now he's heartless.

So our question is like... why go there?

It's like some say that they might still resolve it with "they're special to each other" and swimming, but still like we already knew that, there was no reason to go that far is what I'm saying. And to think that it was planned since forever giving the clues is like... ???

The whole spoon theme also throw me on the loop because like, lets be honest, it's wedding themed. And that part of the interview about part 2 there also made me go...?????? Because I mean, huh?

This is just all in all very interesting turn of events to say the least. I do not see the point of all of this if its not what I think it is, esp after seeing tweets like "even I see a rh wedding and I'm mh T_T". It's just all very unsubtle, that's why we're confused.

Like who knows, maybe we'll really by some magic turn of events get lucky and they really decided that since its the ending, it's okay to go for it. But I also don't wanna to hype myself much, I'm already really happy with it, just bc again, this scene already proves all of my points.

And yeah, I'm sure they'll pander to everyone, bc it's the end and etc and we have to handle everything on the good note and there's a whole line of ppl who's obsessed with us, esp with Haru xD, but like bromance pandering and romance pandering are different things, you know *wiggles eyebrows* and u know who always gets the second one.

#answered #a-girl-with-a-ponytail #rinharu #harurin #free! the final stroke #free! #free #rin matsuoka #haruka nanase

[mythologymondays]

It’s that time again, the time where we all gleefully sit down on the nearest mound and regale ourselves with totally normal Welsh tales of magical women and horses and enchanted bags, because that’s just how the Mabinogion is. Fun sources and FACTS beneath the cut, as always.

Press J on your keyboard if you hate stories about Medieval etiquette, liminality, and magic mounds.

The Prince and the Horse Girl: a temporally disconnected romance for the ages

So, the last we heard of Pwyll, he had successfully cockblocked himself into becoming best friends with Arawn, the Lord of the Underworld, which sounds like a pretty average Friday night in Cardiff, let me tell you. Anyway, Pwyll at this point is just kind of riding high on the fame that being best pals with Arawn brings, and he’s showing his friendship bracelet to everyone he meets and saying stuff like “yeah, it’s great to have the Lord of the Underworld Arawn-ed whenever I need him,” and everyone just sort of rolls their eyes good-naturedly and thinks about death.

One day, Pwyll is at his court at Arbeth, which is one of his most important courts. There’s a huge feast in front of him and all of his courtly pals are there, just chewing the fat. Pwyll tears off the leg of another whole roast pig, probably his eighth of the session, and he’s about to bite into it when he realises that everyone sat around the table is staring at him, so he puts down the pig leg really gingerly and says, “do I have hog spleen around my mouth or something?” and one of his courtly crew, who doesn’t get a name in the original text and so will henceforth be known as Brad, says, “no, my lord, but you do have practically an entire herd of pigs in your stomach, so maybe it’s time for a walk?”

Pwyll blinks at him and he’s like, “I don’t really see why I would want to go for a walk in the yucky outside when I could be sitting here and savouring delicious morsels of tenderly roasted flesh,” and Brad shrugs and says, “well, I read an article about nutrition in this scientific journal last week, and apparently it’s not actually that good for you to just eat constantly and never go outside ever,” and Pwyll is like, “no, but it’s super fun,” and Brad sighs and he’s like, “look, I wasn’t going to tell you this, just in case you got too excited, but there’s actually a mound outside,” and then Pwyll’s eyes go as wide as dinner plates and he cries, “a mound? Seriously? You’re not just fucking with me to get me to go outside?” and Brad is like, “no, there’s seriously a genuine, 100% organic mound outside, and it’s only a short walk away,” and so Pwyll pushes his chair out from under the table and he’s all, “lead the way, pal, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner that there was a fucking rad mound outside, you know how much I love mounds.”

So, they all traipse outside on horseback, and lo and behold, Brad wasn’t lying. There really is an absolutely incredible mound outside, all earthy and hilly, and… look. I’ll level with you. It’s hard to get excited about a mound, but Pwyll manages it. I have no idea how. God knows I’ve tried. But anyway, he leads his merry band of lads up to the top of the mound, and they’re all about to sit down when Brad puts out a hand and stops Pwyll from doing so. Pwyll is like, “dude, stop crushing my vibe, I’m about to become sedentary on this sediment,” and Brad just shakes his head and he’s like, “bro, I need to tell you something about the mound, because I may have undersold it.”

Pwyll is obviously in complete disbelief at this point, just like, “mate, there’s no way you undersold it. It can’t get any cooler than this. It just can’t. Have you seen it?” and Brad is like, “yes, it’s a really interesting geological formation, and the topography also makes it look a bit like a butt, which is obviously super rad, but I didn’t tell you that it’s also a magic mound, because if a nobleman sits on it, one of two things will happen: either he’ll see something absolutely fantastic, like the original The Mummy film starring Brendan Fraser or a cool dog, or he’ll get maimed and mortally wounded. It’s 50/50, to be honest with you.” 

Pwyll just blinks at him, and he’s like, “dude, those are two very different things, but you know, I really can’t pass up the opportunity to see a cool dog,” and Brad says, “I need you to know that the dog was just a random example, I make no canine promises here, I can’t stress that enough,” and Pwyll just shrugs and scoffs, “whatever, dude. Anyway, if I do get totally maimed, I’ve got my posse here, and you’ll do first aid on me, won’t you?” and Brad just sort of nods nervously, because they haven’t even invented antiseptic in Medieval Wales and all their bandages are just, like, old socks drenched in ale, and they don’t have St John Ambulance to teach them all first aid because there isn’t even a J in the Welsh alphabet, and then Pwyll grits his teeth and sits down.

Almost immediately, this brilliant white horse just zooms past them, and Pwyll is like, “oh, that’s fucking sick, my dudes! I thought a dog would be cool, but a horse? Are you kidding me? It doesn’t get much better than this! Equestrian displays are my jam!” and then Brad rolls his eyes and he’s like, “my lord, did you not notice that there was a phenomenally sexy and almost certainly magic lady in gold riding that horse?” and Pwyll is like, “honestly, no, I was kind of distracted by the fetlocks, but now you come to mention it, she’s pretty attractive, I guess. Hey, do you think I could catch up with her and ask her where she got her cool horse?” 

So he gets back on his horse and he tries to catch up with the lady, but even though Pwyll’s horse was sold to him as being the fastest ride on four legs, he can’t even come close to her. He walks back to his lads, his metaphorical tail between his actual legs, and he’s like, “dudes, we’re going to formulate a plan tonight,” and then a random guy in the posse is like, “oh cool, I brought Sharpies,” and they go back to Arbeth Court and spend literally all night just drawing diagrams and equations on a tapestry of England, because that’s probably the best use for it.

The next day, they put their plan in action. Pwyll gets his youngest, fittest lad, plops him on his biggest, muscliest horse, the one that’s like an equine version of that man in Game of Thrones who keeps breaking weightlifting records and is almost definitely earmarked to play Atlas in some big budget Greek myth film, and sends him after the lady. But still, no matter how fast they ride, she’s always one step ahead of them. At one point, they almost catch up with her, but when Pwyll reaches out to stroke her silky blonde hair in a totally normal and cool way, she pulls forward again and he just fucking eats dust. It’s humiliating. 

And this goes on for three days, because princes don’t have, like, hobbies in Medieval Wales, or apparently any princely duties that would make galavanting after a magic horse woman for half a week kind of inconvenient for the general populace, and gradually, Pwyll’s men all bow out one by one, probably because they’ve all developed an absolutely stonking case of piles from being on horseback for three days solid, and then Pwyll is alone in his romantic and also literal pursuit. 

Exhausted, starving and probably desperate for the loo at this point, Pwyll throws his head back and howls, “what the fuck is going on on this day? I’ve tried everything! I’m absolutely stumped. I don’t know what to do about this. I’ve considered it from every possible angle. I chased her, and that didn’t work. I got my wingman to chase her, and that didn’t work. Those are my only two options in the entire world. I just don’t know what else I can do. It’s completely fucking futile, I wish I’d just seen a dog instead,” and then a flash of inspiration comes to him, and he just calls out to the woman, “erm, could you maybe just, like, stop?” and, like a miracle, she does.

When he catches up to her, she glares at him, and says, “I’ve literally been waiting three whole days for you to just ask me to stop, why did it take you so long?” and Pwyll is like, “I sort of thought that it was implied, to be honest with you, what with all the chasing and me crying loudly about my unending solitude and the futility of love,” and she shrugs and says, “well, if we’re to be marred, we really have to work on our communication,” and Pwyll is like, “wait, what, who said anything about marriage?” and she just rolls her eyes, like, “look, I’m a sexy Medieval maiden and you’re a prince with some land and gendered expectations, so of course we’re going to get married,” and he’s like, “well, if we marry, that means I get to ride your horse whenever I want, right?” and she nods, like, “yes, that’s definitely the primary appeal of marriage.” 

But just as he’s about to get down on one knee, she looks at him again, and says, “I should just tell you something super quick, in the name of true love and Medieval marriage etiquette,” and he’s like, “what, your name?” and she says, “no, not that, although it’s Rhiannon, but mostly I’m thinking of the fact that you actually have to wait a whole year to propose to me, because I’m almost engaged to someone else, who I hate, and I need to sort that all out first.” 

Pwyll frowns and says, “hang on, is this going to be another one of those weird magic things where I have to wait a whole year and then conveniently murder someone in a previously determined location?” and she’s like, “what the fuck, no, there’s not going to be any murder at all, just a lavish engagement feast and some nuptials and probably some awkward standing around with the in-laws to-be,” and he’s like, “so why do we have to wait a year?” and she just waves her arms around and says, “temporally disconnected Otherworld shit, my love, I don’t make the rules. Just come to the court of Hyfaidd Hen in exactly a year, and we’ll do the whole ball and chain thing. It’ll be great.” 

So he agrees, because of course he does, and the next thing he knows, it’s a year later, and he goes to Hyfaidd Hen and Rhiannon’s there in this beautiful McQueen wedding dress, looking all Kate Middleton but without the colonial royal associations, and there’s an absolutely exquisite feast laid out, with a whole array of delicious Medieval food, like unseasoned meat pies and room-temperature ale that looks like piss, and Pwyll just thinks to himself how cool it all is, but he also secretly harbours a lingering regret for the previous year, where he was forced after a blunder of etiquette to kill a random man in a duel, and although he feels bad about it, a part of him longs for the decadent adventures of his bachelorhood, when murder was more than just a six letter word. 

They’re all just kind of milling about on the dancefloor, listening to the bards spit some absolute club classics like Y Gododdin by Aneurin, which really gets the toes tapping, when this random dude with a chiseled jawline and a playful glint in his eye comes up to Pwyll and extends his hand for Pwyll to shake. Pwyll, who is completely head over heels for manners and etiquette, shakes the man’s hand, and says, “hello, new friend! What can I do for you?” and Rhiannon elbows him in the side, and hisses, “be careful, fiancé dearest, don’t let him tangle you up in a web of etiquette from which there is no escape,” and Pwyll waves her off, saying, “my sweet darling, I am a prince of Wales; manners are my middle name,” and he turns back to the man. 

The man grins at him, and he says, “I’ve come to ask a favour of you, Pwyll, prince of Wales,” and Pwyll, still enamoured by this man’s manners, is struck by an overwhelming desire to just do whatever this perfectly polite man wants, so he spreads his arms wide in a benevolent gesture, conveniently using it as an excuse to set down his glass of lukewarm piss ale on a nearby shelf, and says, “literally anything you want, my friend, I’ll give you!” and then the stranger’s grin turns into a smirk and he says, “by your word?” and Pwyll is like, “fuck yeah, man, by all of my words, as God and all these noble guests are my witness!” and the stranger is like, “sick bro, I want to marry Rhiannon, and I also want your wedding feast.” 

And Pwyll has no idea what to say to that, because he just promised this man anything he wanted, so he decides that maybe silence is his best bet here, and the man grins at him, and stalks off, knowing that there’s literally nothing that Pwyll can do now except reconsider all of his life choices up to this point.

When the man has left, Rhiannon groans, “you phenomenal dick, that man was Gwawl and he’s the complete bag of dicks that my parents tried to marry me off to, and you just got me affianced to him!” and Pwyll just grits his teeth and hisses, “well, dear, you might have told me that before I told him I’d do whatever he wanted,” and Rhiannon sighs and says, “you’re right, but look, we can work through this. Here’s the plan. Firstly, we’ll tell him that he can’t have the feast, because it’s not yours to give, but mine, and we’ll prepare him an equal feast instead. Then, we’ll tell him that he can marry me a year from today, but here’s the thing - on the day of the wedding, you’ll secretly turn up in disguise with a very tiny magic bag and you’ll ask him, very reasonably, for just enough food to fill the bag. He’ll obviously say yes, because even he can’t turn down something that reasonable, but the bag will be enchanted to never be filled, so you’ll just take all the food, until he asks you how he can help you fill the bag, and you tell him that a fine nobleman has to step on it to seal it, and then he’ll step on it, and then you jump on him and pull the bag over his head and tie him up in the bag and hang it from a rafter, and then you’ll blow your hunting horn to summon your posse of lads and you’ll all beat him to a bloody, pulpy death in the bag.”

Pwyll just blinks at her, and says, “sweetheart, love of my life, light of my existence, did you perchance dream up that oddly specific plan a while ago, because if not, then your imagination terrifies me,” and this small, maniacal grin plays on her lips, and she says, “darling, you know how you asked me last year if you’d have to wait a whole year and then conveniently murder someone in a previously determined location, and I told you no?” and he’s like, “yes, I do remember that,” and she says, “well, ask me again,” and so he says, “babe, do I have to wait a whole year and then conveniently murder someone in a previously determined location?” and she’s like, “yes, sweetheart, but I’ve got it in the bag,” and then they high five each other and do a vengeful murder jig for like ten minutes.

And of course, a year later, they do it all over again, this time with a tiny enchanted bag and a goddamn point to prove, but that’s a story for another time.

My other retellings can be found here, and my Mythology Mondays Facebook page is here. My book is here. Yay.

I’m going to level with you: I typed out a whole bunch of super cool academic stuff and then my turdwallet of a laptop crashed and deleted all of it, and I honestly want to perish very slightly at the prospect of typing it all out again, but in a nutshell:

Some people think that Rhiannon was a horse goddess who was undeified by the Christian dudes who wrote down the pagan Welsh myths all those years later. While the Christian dudes did almost certainly sanitise the source material, we just don’t have any real proof of what they left out. The main argument for Rhiannon being a horse goddess is that she’s a woman and there was, erm, a horse. Not the most compelling argument. Some people also think she may be a cognate to the Gallic horse goddess, Epona, but this is basically extrapolated from the fact that they’re both female and somehow linked to horses, which I don’t think would fly in a court of law.

If you’re wondering why Pwyll didn’t just tell Gwawl to fuck off, it’s because he’s bound, as a nobleman, by a very strict code of honour and morals. By giving Gwawl his word, even before he knew what he was agreeing to, Pwyll made a binding promise. If he goes back on his word, Gwawl is well within his rights to challenge the fuck out of him.

Welsh myth and the Otherworld is super interesting. The Otherworld was generally believed to only be accessible at certain times and via certain places, called ‘liminal spaces’, such as bogs, bodies of water, and caves. Liminal spaces are essentially a sort of sacred space which exists in the in between, where the boundaries between worlds are porous and can be crossed, provided certain ritual conditions are met. The mound in this particular narrative is likely a portal to the Otherworld, which explains why Pwyll was able to access the magical realm of Rhiannon through it. The Otherworld, although not explicitly an Underworld, does have links with death and the afterlife, as do mounds, so that strengthens the connection. Bet you never knew mounds were so fucking cool.

Primary sources:

Davies, Sioned (2007) The Mabinogion, New York: Oxford University Press

Secondary sources:

Goldwasser, Michele (1994) What Drives the Mabinogi? Proceedings of the Harvard Celtic Colloquium, 14, 49-57

Linkletter, Michael (2001) Magical Realism and the “Mabinogi”: an Exercise in Methodology, Proceedings of the Harvard Celtic Colloquium, 21, 51-63

Wachsler, Arthur (1975) The Elaborate Ruse: A Motif of Deception in Early Celtic Historical Variants of the Journey to the Other World, Journal of the Folklore Institute, 12(1) 29-46

#mythology mondays #celtic myth #welsh myth #pwyll #rhiannon #mythology #mabinogi #mabinogion

[cutegirlmayra]

I know you did a prompt a while ago about Amy having a fan and Sonic told him to basically get lost. So could you do something like that but make the guy feel more entitled to Amy and she owes him her love. And when she rejects him he gets really aggressive so it justifies Sonic being more aggressive in turn? I love how your depict protective Sonic soooo cute!

So, I have MANY jealous and protective Sonamy stories XD Shifting through them, I think you meant this one? (x) For future reference, if any of you lovely Anons want to maybe just... link?... the actual prompt I would be very much appreciative since I have over 900+ lol

(Preview prompt image provided by ArtsyAnnieRose (x) Please support the artist :)b)

As I mentioned when reviewing this Prompt on my youtube --> Pajama Blogs Ep. 1 Prompt Requests (x) Timecode: - 54:21 - I try and not do the same prompt twice, which means I like to rewrite things so that I don’t just keep making the same stories for different requests. So with this one, I’ve thought a lot about how to present it, and I think this will be fun! (Also, side note: I’m not making this cute and parody-like, I’ve changed my mind XD I have the right to do that! lol)

***TRIGGER WARNING***: (now you know it’s gonna get good.) I have subtly littered red flags throughout this story, if you have experienced stalking or manipulation strategies in your life please be aware they will be showing up in this fic. Due to the subtle nature of these traits, please be informed that I am in no way trying to downplay the danger of these situations, but showing that to the main character currently in these situations, her view of them is naïve and she sees no danger. Therefore, the gravity of the situation seems friendly and kind, but in no form am I saying these techniques are alright or acceptable. The ‘stranger’ character in this story is a creep, no matter how ‘charming’ or ‘sweet’ he may be portrayed in the innocent main character’s view. (If I write this correctly, hopefully, that message will be more clearer towards the end of the story.) I encourage any who recognize these toxic behaviors to please question your relationship with that individual and find safe, healthy relationships to pursue/keep instead. Whether your relationship with these kinds of people are platonic, friendship, or romantic in nature--please keep yourselves, families, friends, and other such loved ones safe. I will not be listing or detailing all occurrences of these moments within the story; however, with some psychology basics or google searching, you can find these common red flags or complexed manipulation strategies and how to better identify them.

Prompts are on shutdown! Do not send in any prompt requests at this time. Thank you!

Okay... let’s dive right in.

                                                 DIVE, DIVE, DIVE.

Note: This is another unconventional, more mature-themed story that I- well...

But my hope is that it’s still a story worth telling, so if you choose to, please enjoy.

Prompt:

Upon a rather dark and greying sky, as though the mentions of brief rainfall and storm weren’t apparent, many citizens in this bustling city were making their usual rounds around the mall. Carrying a thin jacket with an umbrella’s strap swinging at her side, Amy light-heartedly mused over a recent magazine’s article on the most eligible men, and read the chatty writer’s remarks on how Sonic The Hedgehog seemed to be away when the interviews for them were called.

She thought that so like Sonic, always away, but secretly just close enough to still keep tabs on what’s going on with the many locations in the world.

Eggman seemed to have a base everywhere, and while things had been pretty quiet as of late, she looked up from her magazine and once again wondered where in the wide, blue world he could be.

Was he bored? Off on another adventure? ... Napping? Eating? Was he eating enough?

She sighed with a dreamy look on her face, lost in her thoughts before a stranger flicked his wrist as he approached her, and a charging wind blasted in her direction. Blowing her back, it swiftly hit against her loosely closed umbrella, since Amy wanted to be prepared for any sudden downpour, and triggered it’s spring to further yank her back.

“Ah!” Amy tried to turn around to catch herself, the strap around her wrist forcing the sudden about-face as she grabbed her umbrella’s long steel pole to try and counter the pull.

“Woah!” the stranger that was passing her from the front suddenly stumbled at the sight and quickly rushed behind her, leaning over and grabbing where her hand was on the open umbrella as the wind suddenly stopped. His hand lingered by her side as though to brace with her and help, before noticing the wind stop and looking dumbfounded at the umbrella.

There was a silence as Amy felt the stranger was almost holding her, and turned to him with blinks, “Heh-heh... umm... Thank you.” her body was bent as she tried to use her heels against the pavement to counter-force the sudden rush of heavy wind, but with it’s immediate halt, she stepped forward and away from the strange, intimate moment to close her umbrella.

He stood more straighter, fixing himself up too before smiling kindly to her, “Does this happen to you often? Sudden, emmmm...” He swirled his palm-facing upwards hands around as he held the long, hummed note. “Bursts of photo-aesthetic air through your hair?”

Amy chuckled lightly, briefly looking back at him before continuing to fix her umbrella, worried it may be broken as the spring wasn’t going down well enough. Realizing it was probably jammed, she blew up some air to her bangs, figuring the worst, “Yeah, real convenient for a photoshoot. Maybe the photographer will settle for a water effect?” she gestured humorously up to the clouds, “All I need is a chair,” she teased, “Thanks again for the help. Really! You came out of nowhere!”

“Much like wind.” He joked back, putting his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to her. “You... wouldn’t mind if I take in the view of that shot, would you?”

“Huh?” she didn’t quite understand what he was making reference to.

He smiled as if realizing she didn’t get it and shook his head, “Nothing, nevermind. I’m clearly wasting your time,” he took out his own umbrella, looked at her a moment, then back to it. His long, brown and heavy jacket then flopped back to his side as he offered her it, “No offense, but I did just meet you. I would offer you my umbrella, but I’m worried I may never see it again. However, I have a solution,” He opened the umbrella and then gestured his hand to a restaurant near him. “So that we’re not strangers anymore, and I can trust you with something so dearly precious to me as an old, fifty cent umbrella I literally picked up from a second-hand store... might I entreat you to a meal?”

Amy smiled, relieved he was being so gentlemanly. “I wouldn’t mind at all!” she cheerily perked up, looking at her umbrella and tossing it in a garbage can. “I’m Amy,” She took his hand, curtseying. “Amy Rose.”

She did notice he was probably older than her, but he did a little bow and she realized she hadn’t notice his real height until his eyes matched her level. He held his eyes with her sights... and she wondered why he was pausing so long, “I know...” He finally whispered out, tilting his umbrella over her head, “You’re pretty famous, you know. Anyone would be lucky to help you out in a pinch. I’m Oscar, I work around here.”

Guiding her into the outdoor restaurant, he sat her at one of the white tables with it’s own umbrella on it and closed his, settling down on the opposite side of her. “Well, then! Do you mind this spot?”

“Oh, it’s my favorite, actually!” Amy chimed, knowing the location very well.

“Really?” He seemed a little less intrigued at that than Amy would have normally supposed someone would, but then after putting his umbrella away, leaned forward as though very attentive and putting his fingers together, his elbows on the wooden round table of white and letting his nose press down against his hands. He had gotten comfortable, and Amy, thinking this was his way of showing interest in what she meant, continued to sweetly respond.

“This is so funny, but I come here almost every Thursday and Friday for the new deals at my favorite store! I usually order the same thing too,... I really love ice cream.” Amy felt a strange new energy at meeting someone for the first time, and continued to feel refresh at this new-found friendship.

“Ice cream? No way! That’s my favorite too!” Oscar parted his fingers as though excited to hear this. “I have a sweet tooth. I know, I know, so silly of a man like me.”

“Oh, no! Not at all!” Amy waved her hands out, “What’s your favorite kind?”

“Well,...” He thought a moment, before smiling back to her and holding a wink, “I have an idea, you tell me yours first. I bet it’s probably very different.”

“I’m a simple girl, Vanilla is mostly my cup of tea. But... whenever I’m feeling adventurous, I go for it! Scoops of Vanilla and Chocolate with some random new flavor of mint or cookie flavored and then I top it with all sorts of stuff!”

He coughed as though shocked, “...That’s literally my favorite too!”

“What!?” Amy was excited to hear this, “I thought I was the only one that eccentric!”

“I know! That’s why I thought your answer would be completely different!” As Oscar continued to review Amy’s interests, he kept nodding along and reaffirming that they shared many similar interest and hobbies before the waiter appeared. “I love to chase certain thrills and excitements. I’m sure, being an adventurer, I figured that may be the reason why you place yourself in such perilous circumstances as well.”

“Your orders, lady? Sir?” The waiter asked, trying to kindly cut in as Oscar pulled out his wallet.

“Strawberry sunday with a hint of vanilla, you?” he looked back to her.

“Ha! That’s my Thursday order!” she giggled into her hand, “Same here, please!”

He shook his head, a little theatrically, “It’s almost like... where have you been all my life?”

“I mean, I know, right!? And you work around here! That’s so weird that I’ve never seen you before... where-”

“Ah, there’s really nothing interesting about me. I’m much more fascinated in the adventures you take. What with your friends always weighing you down and everything.” He basically ignored the waiter as he tried to ask any follow-up questions, and Amy just looked between the two and then smiled politely to the waiter, showing that that was all they were going to have.

“Weighing me down..? Oh no, without Sonic and the others, I couldn’t do anything as big as saving the world! We all need each other, you know?” She happily confirmed before he spoke again, sighing.

“I guess they would have you think that way, huh?” a offhanded comment that made Amy’s eyebrows furrow, but she just continued to speak about the wonderful traits and abilities of her friends, in which case, he kept shaking his head as though she was wrong.

“What?” She finally asked, “You don’t seem to like Sonic, Tails, or Knuckles...”

“I just think you could do with some different friends.” He shrugged, “Some that wouldn’t constantly leave you behind or undergrade your merit.” In that moment, the waiter came back to place down their orders.

“U-undergrade..?” She looked down a moment, “N-no, no one’s holding me back or anything. I choose how I help out, I can’t always keep up with Sonic and the others so-” she stopped a second and shook her head, getting frustrated, “I-I mean, I can go with them whenever I want!” she retorted, and noticing her shift in demeanor, he took some ice cream and then held out his hand.

“Oh no, no, no. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t keep up. I meant that you’re invaluable and they don’t treat you as such. But don’t worry, I’m here now, and I’ll show you how a true heroine should be treated. This meal is on me.” he gestured to her ice cream, “After this, I’ll show you some places that you probably haven’t been to before.”

“O-oh... T-That does sounds exciting!”

For a few weeks after that, Amy began to hang out with Oscar frequently. They would text back and forth, and she couldn’t help but smile when he always called her beautiful and made her feel so special. However, although the places they first went to weren’t so bad... he started showing her back alleyways with clubs and other ‘themed’ places that made her slightly uneasy.

She knew he was older than her, but would decline any invitation if he stated, “But I know a guy, he’ll let you in.” and continued to protest and remind him of her age.

That being said, the parks were lovely though!

He would often bring her little gifts and flowers too, stating that the next time she came with him, he’d bring some home-made food and had a habit of patting her head or brushing something off her hair if it landed on her. Though, Amy never noticed the ‘leaf’ that had fallen on her shoulder, or the ‘bug’ that was buzzing around her headband.

He also would usually lead her when they walked and talked, if they came to a corner, he would lightly put his hand to her back, until one time she mentioned his hand went just slightly lower than normal and he apologized profusely.

All was going very well, he even carried her bags and offered to take them home with her, but she insisted she would take the train and that he needn’t worry.

Finally, on a Friday when she was heading down for her sale, texting Oscar, a familiar wind picked up and almost brought up her dress.

“Oh, look out!” Oscar appeared and grabbed her dress, pushing it down. “Phew! Close one, aye?”

“W-where did you come from?” Amy adjusted her dress as he held his hands to the rim of her dress still, but when she looked up at him, he immediately released them.

“I suppose I just naturally come when you need me.” he scratched the back of his head, looking away as though shy. “I don’t know... sometimes, I can’t sit still, I get this feeling like you need me, and lo and behold!” He gestured to her, “You really do need someone looking after you twenty-four seven, huh?” he squatted down to look up at her, then his face turned to concern. “It’s a shame you don’t have anyone to look after you... especially in moments like this.”

“W-what are you talking about? I have Sonic!” Amy placed her Miles-Electric away and gestured for him to stand upright, but instead, he took her hands and placed them on his cheeks, acting cute but a lot younger than he actually was.

“But he didn’t save you, I did~” he whined, squishing her hands to his cheeks and rotating them around as she thought him slightly weird and took them away, pushing him back as he stumbled. “H-hey!”

“Oh, you! Sonic is just the same way! He can’t sit still when he senses someone needs him... hey, that reminds me of my article...” Amy remembered the magazine she was subscribed too, and looked over to see that within his usual trench coat, was a page of that article sticking out. “Ah!” She pointed to it, amazed, “You read ‘Famous Quips’ too!?!”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he seemed to speak quickly, before shoving the magazine back in deeper. “Ehem, kinda a girlie magazine... promise not to tell anyone? I don’t wanna lose my street-cred!”

She laughed, “You are like Sonic! Always acting so cool...” she shook her head and took his arm, what she had started doing since he offered it so many times, and they walked down the street.

He bought anything her eye rested on, which made her beg him to at least let her pay for food, as he mentioned a concert happening at the club he kept trying to get her to go to.

“Come on, you’ll love this band! We adore the same music too! I know a perfect spot in the back where no one will see us and the bouncer is my friend!” his voice was enthusiastic, nudging her every now and then with his elbow as she looked away and rolled her eyes. “You’re not a babe anymore, Amy! You’re gonna end up going to clubs eventually, might as well be with someone you know, right?”

“I don’t know...” Amy looked down,... and he gently stopped walking to look away from her.

“...Do you not trust me?”

“W-what?” Amy let go of his arm, “What do you mean? Of course I do!” she was very hurt by his accusation, “I mean, we’ve hung out so much, I just don’t really think clubbing is my thing...”

“You never want to do what I suggest.” He looked down, “I go to your favorite store with you and help you bargain hunt, I take you around the park... I’m just saying, the one time I want to go and do something, you keep saying no.” he folded his arms, and Amy began to panic that he was really offended by her.

“T-that’s not true, Oscar! I...” she looked away a moment, and he looked back at her.

“...Ah, I can’t stay mad at you.” He pulled her into a hug, holding her there. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, hey, let’s go get ice cream and talk about it later, okay? I’ll pay again.”

Her eyes shifted about, not sure what that was all about. “N-no, I’ll pay.” she tried to move away but kept an arm around her and led her on.

“I wouldn’t be considered a man if I let the woman pay!” he insisted, and ended up paying for the meal.

As it got late, he offered to carry her bags home again, and whined in a goofy way when she kept saying it was too late to have guests over, but maybe sometime.

“If you won’t see the concert with me, at least take me to your place sometime. It’s the least you could do for me.” He gave her the bags, then stroked her hair again, “You really shouldn’t be taking the train at night, you never know what sicko might be on it. You’re tough, Amy dear, but you’re still a girl and you know how you’re prone to cause problems.” he laughed, but that stung Amy’s pride a bit.

She held her bags and looked away a moment, “...Is that... how I come off to people?”

“Oh sure!” he then continued to stroke her head, “...You ... didn’t notice?”

“...That I look weak?” Amy shook her head and he instinctively removed his hand.

He held it in the air a moment, before letting it rest on Amy’s head again, as though realizing she wasn’t doing that to make him stop.

“No... the part where I... gave you a new nickname.” He smiled, tenderly and squatted down to her level again, keeping his hand on her head. “Amy dear. I think it’s cute!”

“...O-oh, I mean, I don’t really like how it could appear though.” Amy had a bead of sweat form and he abruptly got up, looking upset.

“Don’t like how it could appear!? What does that mean!?” He snapped.

She flinched at his sudden uproar, as he grabbed a bag from her, “I’ve been wanting to introduce the nickname to you all day! And that’s how you think about it!?” he looked as though he was going to either smash or rip the bag, but just looked furiously away from her, “I thought about it a lot, you know! It was suppose to mean something!”

Amy grew slightly afraid, but not taking this sudden mood-swing again, she opened her mouth to say something.

He interjected and looked dead in her face, “You really don’t trust me, do you, Amy?”

Thinking she didn’t want to hurt him, she shook her head, “I-I never said that!”

“Don’t yell at me,” he looked downhearted suddenly, even though she wasn’t raising her voice that much, not like he was.

“I’m not-”

“You are, and it’s really making me feel like you’re just... you don’t consider me a friend. I told you people usually reject me,... I was vulnerable to you!”

“Oscar, calm down a moment and-”

“You’re the one who’s not ‘calming down’ you can’t do a single thing I want to do! You’re being... selfish!” he flopped the bag down in front of her, startling her as he took off stomps and a hissy-fit.

Not able to process that sudden shift in behavior, Amy was lost to her thoughts and... slowly... proceeded to get the bag and head to the train station.

Numerous texts came flooding in that week as she hadn’t gone back to the plaza and mall, and she kept wondering how he knew she wasn’t there. They had hung out multiple times, maybe he was just expecting another hang out without actually asking this time...

Still, she felt somewhat obliged to text back: Sorry, I’ll see you Friday. This Thursday, I just felt sick.

Oscar: Do you need anything? Send me your address, I’ll bring you medicine and make you some food! I really am sorry if I scared you, I shouldn’t have done that. You’re beautiful and I’m just insecure. You know how I can be, just like you, I get really attached to people and just want to be accepted. I’m really sorry, please don’t not see me again! I promise I’ll get myself under control, we’ll do whatever you want to do this time! Honest!

Amy didn’t text back...

Oscar: The concert is next Friday, I won’t mention it again but... it would be really awesome if we could see Pop Pinkies together... I know it’s my favorite band and our favorite music is what they play so... just think about it at least, alright?

That Friday, Amy was wearing something that made her almost blend in with the crowd. Unlike her usual bubbly skip in the streets, she was hiding beneath her umbrella and coat, as though not wanting to be spotted.

A sudden burst of wind and she panicked, darting behind a corner and putting her umbrella away. “Dumb wind.” she mumbled, looking around to make sure Oscar wasn’t there...

The wind suddenly shifted as she poked her head out, “That’s odd, wind doesn’t usually change direction unless...” she turned and gasped as she saw Sonic, leaning his head towards her and looking confused.

“...Since when did you start taking the back-alley ways? Don’t you know that’s dangerous, Amy?” He blinked, furrowing his brow as he straightened up and folded his arms, “Heh, long time no-”

Amy’s mind was suddenly triggered by something Oscar had said, and she tuned out Sonic completely, her world going dark...

“I just think you could do with some different friends. Some that wouldn’t constantly leave you behind or undergrade your merit.”

“You’re tough, Amy dear, but you’re still a girl and you know how you’re prone to cause problems.“

“Is that... really how I appear to you?” Amy’s voice quaked as she spoke it, “Do I really look weak... even to you?”

Sonic was taken aback by the tears forming in her eyes, and immediately dropped the friendly banter, “Amy? What’s wrong? Weak?” he didn’t know where she got that notion from. “N-no, I-... Amy, is something wrong?” he moved forward to reach for her but pulled away, something Amy wasn’t used to as she really did--for a brief moment--think he was going to place his hand on her head.

Almost as if expecting that, she leaned her head in a strange way and then back, not sure why she did that.

He didn’t notice the action though, but she hugged herself, also remembering that after the light head pats was usually a strong and forceful embrace...

“...Amy?” she hadn’t responded to him, and now, Sonic was noticing a very clear change in Amy.

“N-no, of course you wouldn’t think that... I’m sorry, I really don’t... I don’t want to be around people right now.” she looked away, “I... I made someone feel really bad and I don’t know what to do.”

“Really? What did you do?” Sonic lifted his hand and she immediately looked at it, which made him pause. “...Umm... I was just gesturing... Amy...” His ears bent back, not sure why she looked so squarely at his hand. “Is everything okay?”

She really thought he was offering her hand, but she didn’t want to take it... not this time.

“I made a new friend, and he’s mad at me. I’m worried... if I hurt him again, he’ll really be in a bad emotional state, and it’ll be all my fault.” Amy put her umbrella up and started to walk away from Sonic, “I want to take a new route, I didn’t even want to come out today...”

“...Amy, you don’t control this new friend’s behavior, they do.” Sonic corrected her and walked beside her, focusing heavily on the signs of uncomfortability Amy was showing. “...What happened with this ‘new friend’ of yours?” He directly asked, and Amy relayed to him how she met him, then how he liked all the things she liked and agreed with everything in the beginning, how charming he was before the more time she spent with him, he seemed to change and start acting funny... but not in the good way.

“...He likes everything you like?” Sonic lowered his head a little, honing in on some things Amy briefly mentioned.

“Yeah, isn’t that crazy? He’s a guy but he totally loves sweet things and a popular girl’s magazine I enjoy.” Amy smiled, closing her eyes as though cheering up when thinking about it.

“...And he knew your order before you even made it?” Sonic folded his arms, putting two and two together.

“Yeah...” Amy suddenly slowed down in her steps, her eyes widening.

Sonic closed his eyes, matching her speed as he began to help her focus on the more important parts of her story, “And this... strange wind that passes by here... only comes at you and blows your dress up or opens your umbrella?”

She stopped.

He continued to walk, “And you say he works around here... which means he may have seen you come and go multiple times... and probably watched you ordered and heard what you liked, and saw what you read, and knew about you from the news and press... he disliked your friends and took you places and then entitled himself to being in charge over your Thursday and Friday venues... then, to really top it all off with the icing on the cake and all that jazz... he’s been insisting you go to a adult-themed club with him and throws a tissy-fit when you say no?”

Sonic stopped, his fists had already tightened into such hard balls of fury that he had to take silent deep breaths just to contain himself.

“And worst of all... he’s tried to copy me and put it in your mind that your friends don’t respect you the way we should... isolating you,” He put out a finger, “Grooming and manipulating you... Amy, you should have written this guy the moment he snapped at you... and probably sooner, but I’ll take that as you were just seeing the best sides of him... and not the dirty kind.” he didn’t turn around, but he felt Amy lingering behind him and knew if he said anymore, she may just start crying. “...Where do you think this creep is now?”

“He... He’s not a creep.” Amy lied, feeling in her heart that she just did lie, for Oscar’s sake...

Sonic tsk’ed and turned around, “How can you stand there and defend him!? Do you even know what Grooming is!?”

“...I... I don’t.” she wiped her eyes, “I don’t think I know anything...”

The manipulation had really set in on Amy, she was denying something she knew was true and didn’t know why. She was defending a man who clearly was up to no good, and yet... she cared about him still.

“Sonic... I think... I think I’m sick.” she held her stomach, the realization setting in. “You don’t think... he wanted me to take him to my house to..?”

“He wanted to what!?” Sonic lunged forward, holding his fists back and to his sides as he tried to remain level-headed, pulling away from her. “Amy, you know the truth now, it’s time to end this... ‘friendship’ you two have.”

Amy fell to her knees, “That’ll kill him!”

Sonic immediately looked behind him, Amy almost begging him not to make her do it as Sonic couldn’t stand to see her this broken and twisted up from Oscar’s scheming.

“Amy...” he wanted to say so many things..! But instead, just turned around and held a strong look, “You have to face this... but you won’t be alone.” He offered her his hand, “I won’t leave your side, and I’ll be there the whole way through. You deserve to go out and have fun without someone telling you that it can only be ‘their’ way of fun.” He looked so serious... but she felt a peace wash over her at how she knew his words were never lies or deceits for something devious. His words were for her and her well-being... not once did Sonic ever yell or enforce his way about things at all. He listened to her, even though she knew he must be raging inside at his friend’s predicament... it’s not like she purposefully got herself into this mess.

“You know how you’re prone to cause problems.“

She placed her hands up against her eyes, crying. “Am I... being a burden to my friends, Sonic?”

He immediately scooped her up into a bridal-style hold, “Which store did you want to visit today, Amy? Or do you want to just go home?”

“Please, I want to go home.” Amy held onto him as without a second word, he zoomed off.

The next few days, Sonic instructed that Amy block the number, but text messages seemed to not be the only thing Oscar knew... He called her home number, which surprised both of them, and the phone never stopped ringing.

That next Thursday, Sonic accompanied Amy everywhere she went, and they didn’t spot Oscar anywhere. But come that Friday...

Sonic was carrying some of Amy’s bags, she didn’t look fully recovered from anything, but at least she was wearing brighter colors in her coat she wore that day, and a nice sun hat as Sonic held the umbrella up for her.

He looked a little bored, but kept his eyes peeled when a sudden wind shoved him to the pavement.

“Ah! Sonic!” Amy turned around but was immediately grabbed around the waist, pulled back. “Gah!”

“I can’t believe you let him back into your life!!!”

Amy’s ears rang with Oscar’s voice, before shoving him back and falling down beside Sonic, who quickly shook off the wind blast and spun around to pick up Amy’s things, placing the bags by the store’s window.

“So, this is the wind-manipulator, eh?” Sonic rotated his shoulder out, having landed on it pretty roughly, “Look, I don’t know anything about you, and neither does Amy, really! So either get the hint and quit bothering Amy, or I’ll have to take matters into my own hands!” he hunkered down, getting ready for a fight, but... he also seemed not to be putting on airs or a show.

Sonic... although smiling a bit as he spoke to him, suddenly took a darker and more focused attention on how Oscar was holding himself.

Oscar looked to Amy, not even talking to Sonic, “I told you everything about me... What does that lying Sonic know about you!? I’m the one that’s been with you this whole time while he’s been off, probably with some other girl!”

Amy thought that ridiculous, and seeing him in a new light, she was able to at last come to fact with this pervert in front of her. “You... you were never my friend... were you, Oscar?”

He bit his teeth down, “Is that what he made you think?!”

“No, that’s what he made he realize!” She threw up her hammer and blasted wind at her.

She was forced to slide against the concrete, “I don’t mean to hurt you, Amy dear!” he cried out, “We’ll settle this when he isn’t around!”

“I think you’ve got it backwards, Oz!” Sonic, seeing that his hands controlled the wind, kicked it away from Amy’s direction and then spun in a rotation within the air to punch him down.

He stumbled, as though not used to physical fighting and tumbled all the way over into the street.

“I’ve known Amy much longer and deeper than you have! You’re just some creep who takes advantage of little girls!” Sonic’s fists was shaking, clearly, he didn’t want to just leave it at one blow. “Amy, get behind me!” He gestured out his hand and Amy immediately got up and moved behind him.

“I can... I think I can fight him!” She tried to state, but Sonic looked behind his shoulder and she put her head down. “I... I want to but...”

“...You still care about me, don’t you, Amy dear?”

“Quit calling me that!” Amy threw her arms down, “You used me! You weren’t my friend! I can’t believe I trusted you!”

Sonic turned to the man, “Why are you even answering him, Amy? He’s not talking to you, he’s talking to some Amy Dear girl he’s been building in his mind. You were never anything to him... it was the girl he was crafting that he was interested in.” Sonic slowly walked towards him as the man started to scoot back, clearly not able to fight Sonic The Hedgehog.

“Let’s play a new game...” Sonic suddenly lifted up a device, “Is your real name Warner Windstrom? You’ve got a bounty on your head that the cops are just dying to claim...” he pressed the button as suddenly an alarm went out, and from around the corners, police vehicles blocked his way of escape. “Oh, and that club? A typical place where your old ‘hostages’ claimed they were drugged. Trust me, pal, I’ll personally make sure you don’t get out of jail again.” Sonic let the police start moving in but Warner immediately shoved air beneath him and flew into the sky, shocking everyone as Sonic held up a arm over his eyes and moved back to Amy, shielding her as well.

She was in shock, that kind man she knew was suddenly a criminal and had previously hurt and abused other women... She didn’t know Sonic set this all up, but she probably wouldn’t have let him if she had known.

“I thought we were just gonna talk to him!” she cried out, putting her hand on his shoulder before shaking her head, “I’m defending him again... aren’t I?”

“Amy shouldn’t be with a loser like you, Sonic!” Warner cried out, “You can’t always save her! You can’t always be around to-!”

Before he could finish, a hammer slammed into his gut.

“Nice one, Amy.” Sonic complimented, as Amy stood up beside him.

She didn’t say anything, but judging from the neutral expression... and tears streaming down her eyes...

He just looked back at Warner, “I know this is a lot to take in... but trust me on this one... You’ll be alright.”

Amy summoned another hammer, “Want to give me a lift?”

“Certainly.” Sonic spun into a ball that lifted him up into the wind, then uncurled to reach out for Amy as she jumped, “Hit him hard!” he encouraged as he threw her up the rest of the length.

She pushed her dress down as he extended his arms to her, “Amy, please! You know me! I love-!”

She just growled and let out a piercing war-cry, slamming her hammer down on his face, “I’m not your friend, I’m not your anything, buzz off!!!!”

He slammed to the ground, and as the wind ceased, Sonic landed and caught her immediately, and the two watched as the police immediately took him.

He kept trying to call out to Amy but she didn’t say anything back, just ducking her head into Sonic’s shoulder.

Sonic’s eyes never left Warner’s face... but leaving the scattered bags around, he took her to the park near by and sat her down.

He waited there... as Amy was just frozen in her thoughts... unable to speak.

After some time, she got up and walked to stand beside him, “What about the bags?”

“Not concerned.” Sonic stated, then looked back to her, “You okay?”

“No,” Amy admitted, “You were right. It’s gonna take time... but I wish it would all just go away now.” she placed her hands on the side of her arms, “How... how did you know? When I was telling you about him... how did you know he was no good?”

Sonic tilted his head back and forth, then tapped his head. “When you’ve been around the block a few times... helping justice here and there... you learn a thing or two about red flags, Amy... you don’t have a lot of dating experience--or just knowing bad dudes are like that--in general! I don’t blame you... but I do think that you should be careful who your friends are.”

She scooted closer to him... then tilted her head to his shoulder.

“..Can you help me get better?”

“No,” he lightly tilted his head to hers, “But I can be with you while you figure it out.”

There was a long moment of silence as they held that comforting moment...

“Will I ever be me again?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

“...No,” He responded, tenderly, as though a whisper as he looked up at the rain being to slowly drop all around them. “But I can be with you as you learn to accept her.”

Amy closed her eyes, feeling the small drops of rain before it all at once, speedily came down on them.

“...Will you still love me? At the end of it all?”

Silence...

“I already do.”

Rain scattered as Sonic held his eyes straight up into the clouds... the storm in his heart subsiding as Amy cried and her shoulder’s bounced beside him.

#sonamy #sonamy au #sonamy prompt #sonicxamy

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

This Christmas - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 10)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar? 

Read these first    Prologue   Part 1    Part 2   Part 3    Part 4   Part 5  Part 6 Part 7   Part 8   Part 9 

**

Once again, you woke up next to Harry, this time in the little writing hut. When you and the girl’s came home from your mother’s, Harry snuck out to see you. Harry was laying on his back currently and you smiled over at him. You planted a kiss to his forehead before climbing over him and off the bed.

As much as you wanted to stay in bed and cuddle with him, you had a lot to do. You had to finish the final chapter of your book and go do your last minute Christmas shopping. You pretty much had everything for everyone, but you needed to get Harry something. You two didn’t exactly discuss exchanging presents, but this was technically your first Christmas together, even though you weren’t really together.

Speaking of which, you two probably needed to have that conversation because you were more than ready to take that step. You knew there were things up ahead that you two would have to worry about, but you would face them whenever they arose. You made yourself a cup of coffee and sat down at your desk, opening your computer and getting to work.

Harry woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. He rolled over seeing you sipping a cup of coffee while typing away. He smiled watching you do what you loved and how focused you were on your writing. In that moment, he felt himself falling even more in love with you.

After a few minutes, he got off the bed, pouring himself some coffee before walking over to you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss on your head.

“Hm, morning,” you smiled up at him.

“Morning,” he smiled, planting a kiss on your lips.

“Sooo, guess what,” you said.

“What?” He asked.

“I’m almost finished,” you smiled. “I have like a few hundred more words and I’m done!”

“Does that mean we get to spend all day together?” He asked.

“Actually,” you said. “I have to go do some Christmas shopping.”

“Still procrastinating I see,” he smirked.

“Oh hush!” You laughed. “I only have to get a few things. I may not be gone all day.”

“Can I come?” He asked.

“I’d love for you to come, but no,” you said.

“Ooh, are you getting a present for me?” He smirked.

“Perhaps,” you said.

“Can’t wait for that,” he said. “So, tonight’s your last night here, right? Before heading to your Mum’s?”

“It is,” you nodded. “Which is why I really wanted this book to be finished. I feel bad not spending more time with her, you know.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “How did last night go?”

“It was fun. We drank wine and hot chocolate. Mum made cookies and we watched cheesy Christmas romance movies and just had some girl talk,” you said.

“Were we any of the topics of conversation?” He asked.

“Of course,” you laughed.

“Oh god,” he laughed, shaking his head.

“It actually wasn’t that bad,” you said. “They mostly talked about their support for whatever we decide to do and I quote they’re happy we finally came to our fucking senses.”

He laughed, “Let me guess, Gem?”

“No, my mother,” you laughed.

He laughed, “Well, I agree with her.”

“Me too,” you smiled.

“So, since tonight’s your last night, I want us to spend it together,” he said.

“It’s not like I’m going away,” you giggled. “And we’re going to be back over for Christmas.”

“I know,” he said. “But I want us to have a little Christmas moment for ourselves.”

“I think I can fit that in my schedule,” you said, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You better,” he smiled. “I guess I should let you get back to writing, now, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you sighed, dramatically.

He smiled giving you a quick peck on your lips, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “I’ll see you later?”

He nodded giving you one last hug before walking out and letting you get back to your writing.

**

Later that day, Harry was out in the garage looking through the many boxes of leftover Christmas decorations.

“How does she have this many decorations still?” He mumbled to himself as he pulled out extra lights and garland.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Gemma asked, crossing her arms.

“I’m on a mission,” he said.

“And it involves Christmas decorations?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes it does,” he said. “It’s part of Y/N’s Christmas present.”

“Please tell me you’re not giving her old Christmas decorations,” she begged.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Of course not. I’m just setting the scene.”

“What’s the plan here?” She asked.

“Why are you so nosey?” He groaned.

“Because I want to make sure your plan isn’t shit,” she said.

“I love your faith in me,” Harry scoffed. “But if you must know… I was going to deck out the guest house with Christmas lights and other decorations. I’m going to order takeaway and have it all set up for when she gets home. And we’re going to have our own little Christmas together… and since you’re going to ask anyway… I was going to see if we could make things official,” he blushed.

“That’s actually really adorable!” she smiled. “You knew you had it in you.”

“When are you going back to London?” He joked.

She rolled her eyes, “So, besides asking her to be your girlfriend, what else did you get her?”

“Some stuff… but I also thought it would be nice to take her on a little holiday if she has the time for New Year’s,” he said. “I think it would be beneficial for us to have some quality alone time.”

“And on that note, I’m done asking questions,” she joked. “But if you need any help setting up, I’m happy to help.”

“Then grab a box and let’s get to work,” he smirked.

**

You walked around in all the shops still unsure of what to get Harry. You knew he would be happy with anything, but it was hard finding something the man doesn’t already have. So, that’s when you knew you would have to get a gift that was a little more sentimental. You went to a nearby store with crafting items and got all the supplies you needed before heading to your parent’s house.

When you got there, you went into your old bedroom and started pulling out old boxes with pictures, letters, and other little random items from your childhood. You searched through finding everything that represented your and Harry’s friendship over the years. You made a little scrapbook of the photos and added in little stories of the memories. You also included the years you two weren’t really speaking.

All the articles, pictures, and achievements he experienced over the years and you followed. When the book was finished, you wrapped it up in a box and took the other, empty scrapbook you purchased. You decorated the front of it and the first page, leaving the rest of them blank.

You knew this was cheesy and he would probably tease you, but this was from the heart and you were really proud of it. Once you wrapped everything else up, it was later that afternoon. You knew you needed to head back, but you needed to make one last stop.

**

Harry put the final touches on his surprise thanks to the help of his sister and mother. Now that it was getting closer, he noticed his hands were shaking. He wanted the night to go perfectly and really wanted this romantic gesture to go well.

“Everything’s going to work out fine,” Gemma said. “Stop worrying.”

“I know, but I’m nervous,” he said.

“Why? It’s Y/N,” she said.

“That’s the point,” he whispered. “I’ve thought about this night for a while and the fact it’s finally happening… I just want it to be perfect.”

“It will be,” she said. “Unless she says no…”

“Really, Gem?” He groaned.

“Sorry, sorry,” she laughed. “I’m gonna head back to the house and grab Mum. I figured you two need some alone time.”

“You can stay in the house,” he rolled his eyes.

“No, no, it’s fine,” she said. “Oh before I go… Mum wanted me to leave this with you.”

Harry held out his hand where Gemma placed a perfectly wrapped box in his hand.

“Please, tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” he winced.

“Ew, she wouldn’t,” she groaned. “Mum’s a cool mum, but she’s not a mean girl’s Mum. Besides it’s for Y/N.”

“Well, I’ll make sure she gets it,” he laughed.

**

When you arrived back at Anne’s house, you brought the gifts in with you and you noticed that Anne and Gemma were gone.

“Hello? Harry?” You called out, walking into the house.

You saw a bouquet of flowers sitting on the kitchen counter with an envelope with your name written on it. You put the boxes down to open the envelope, where you saw a letter from Harry.

“Happy Christmas! It’s time for your special Christmas surprise. Meet me in the guesthouse.”

You smiled taking the boxes and heading out to the guest house. When you opened the door, all you could see was the bright colored christmas lights lighting up the room. There were decorations everywhere and it literally looked like a Christmas department store threw up, but it was perfect. Harry stood in the middle of the room and you let out giggle seeing him wearing an ugly Christmas sweater.

“You did all of this?” You smiled.

“With a little bit of help,” he smiled. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” you smiled, walking over to him.

You wrapped your arms around his waist when something dawned on you, “Wait a minute… You… this is a scene in my book! You read it. How the fuck did you read it?”

“Don’t be mad!” He said, quickly. “I may have snuck in and read a little bit. I remembered how you talked about your writing and your stories being a reflection of what you wanted, so I thought I’d try and recreate a little something.”

“That’s really… sweet,” you smiled. “I’m still mad you read it, but I can forgive you.”

He smiled leaning down to kiss you, “Oh, and we’ve got dinner from our favorite restaurant and tonight is all about us.”

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled.

**

After the two of you ate dinner, you decided on exchanging gifts.

“You first,” Harry said.

“No, you first,” you said.

“How about this? We take turns. I open one, you open one and we keep going,” he said.

“Fine,” you said. “That works, but you’re still going first.”

He rolled his eyes, taking one of the boxes from you, “Okay, okay,” he said.

You smiled nervously as you watched him open the first one. He ripped off the paper, revealing a heavy envelope. He took out a stack of papers and looked over at you.

“It’s uh… my book,” you told him. “I’ve already sent it to my agent and editor, but I wanted you to be the first one to really read it. It’s not great, yet because it’s just the first draft, but I really and truly believe that you and being with you here inspired everything in there. Just like with everything I’ve ever done, you’ve been the inspiration behind it.”

“Wow,” he whispered. “Thank you. This… this means a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled.

“Now, it’s your turn,” he said, handing you a present.

It was another envelope and you opened it revealing a pair of plane tickets… well, fake plane tickets.

“Um…” you laughed, showing him.

“Okay, let me explain,” he said. “I want to take us on a little holiday for New Year’s wherever you want to go. I didn’t know if you’d want to go or where you’d want to go, so I haven’t made any arrangements yet.”

“Really?” you smiled.

“Yes, really,” he smiled. “I want to spend more time with you… alone.”

“Oh, do you now?” You raised an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes before taking another box and unwrapping the next box. He took out the scrapbook, looking over at you, suspiciously. Opening it up, he smiled looking at all the pictures and memories from throughout your childhood. He laughed a bit and kept flipping through the pages before coming across the last few years.

“Wow, you kept these things?” He asked.

“Of course,” you smiled. “Yeah, we weren’t talking, but you were still important to me. I was proud of you… I am proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “I love this.”

“You’re welcome, I know it’s a little cheesy, but I thought it would be nice,” you blushed.

“It’s perfect,” he smiled, kissing your cheek.

Now, it was time for your last gift from Harry. It was a small box making you curious as to what was inside. You unwrapped it and pulled the top off seeing a wooden heart ornament inside. But there was also an engravement.

‘Will you be my girlfriend?’

“W-What?” You whispered. “Wow.”

You looked over at Harry, his hands were shaking, as he looked back at you.

“I know we both agreed on taking things slow,” he whispered. “But I know you’re it for me Y/N. You always have been. These past few days have been amazing and I think I’ve fallen even more in love with you. I know we still need to work on and figure out things, but I know we can still be together because as long as I have you by my side we can do anything.”

“I-I wow,” you whispered, sitting speechless.

You felt slightly like you were being overdramatic at that moment. It wasn’t like he was proposing to you, but it felt so surreal, something you’ve always wanted finally coming true.

“Open your gift,” you answered.

“Wait? What?” He asked.

“Just do it,” you said, quickly.

Shock and disappointment ran through him that you didn’t answer his question. He tore at the wrapping paper, revealing another scrapbook. One that was empty except for the first page.

“Our past is filled with good memories and bad. But now it’s time for us to make new memories together.

Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Oh my god, we’re the cheesy fucking couple ever,” he laughed.

You giggled moving over to sit on his lap, “Yeah, we are, but it works for us. So, what do you say?”

“Well, I don’t know, what do you say?” he smirked.

“How about we both give our answer on the count of three?” You suggested.

“That works,” he said.

“Okay, 1...2...3,” you said.

“Yes!” you both smiled before sealing it with a kiss.

**

Next part will be uploaded tomorrow! :)

Sooo... since they’ll be going on a little holiday for New Year’s... should I do a companion series? Maybe like a 5 parter? 

#Harry Styles imagines #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Fanfictions #Harry Styles Fan fics #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Christmas Series

[westallenfun]

Two's Company (3/3)

Westallen secret santa gift

For: Lauren (@backtothestart02) (Happy holidays! 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 she grapples with revealing her feelings, for fear of ruining their friendship. But a weekend trip to Metropolis sets in motion a series of events, romantic mishaps and conundrums abound, that may force Barry and Iris to face some long-awaited, romantic truths.

Rating: T (Warning: Mild Language)

The mezzanine just above the ballroom of the Time Metropolis is a well-furnished carpeted landing with at least seven chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and a wide, glass balcony supposedly for onlookers to look upon the dancing masses below. There are refreshment stalls, serving a variety of beverages, and waiters carrying platters of an assortment of appetizers, including chili lime shrimp cups, fried okra, and goat cheese bites.

When the elevator arrives at the floor of the mezzanine, Iris steps out alongside her father and Cecile and sees that most people are milling around, chatting with one another. It would seem that no one has yet headed down the stairs to the ballroom, which holds the promise of a night of dancing. Furthermore, nobody seems to have noticed Joe, Cecile, and Iris’s arrival yet, as they are several feet away from everyone, which comes as somewhat of a relief for Iris, as she scans the room quickly, her eyes searching for one person only. Sure enough, she finds him, seated at a table, head pressed into his palm, a glass of wine before him, and wearing a distinctly melancholy expression. He is seated beside Cisco and Cynthia, who are conversing with one another, but looking over at him every few seconds, worryingly. Iris swallows, twisting her fingers behind her back, as she feels her sadness and anger dissipate, upon seeing how utterly torn up he looks, and she knows she must speak with Barry. She feels a hand on her shoulder and looks up to see her father giving her a reassuring smile, which she returns. When she looks back, she sees that Barry has seen her, as have Cisco and Cynthia. Cynthia appears jovial, leaving the table to come greet them, followed by Cisco, just as other guests begin noticing the new arrivals and start walking over to congratulate Joe and Cecile.

But Iris cannot tear her gaze away from Barry.

Because he’s regarding her like he never has before, as if the wind has been knocked out of him, as if he’s been rendered utterly speechless by her mere presence, gazing at her utterly wide-eyed, and the sheer intensity of the number of emotions his look conveys is too much for Iris, so she looks down at the floor, breathing deeply.

“Hi, Iris,” someone says, and Iris glances to her left and smiles politely when she sees Patty approaching towards her. She appears to be alone, which strikes Iris as odd, but perhaps what is even stranger, now that she thinks about it, is that Eddie is nowhere to be found.

“Hey, Patty,” Iris replies. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you. I think I just needed to get some rest. Between traveling and then going out last night, I think I was just over tired.”

“Yeah, of course. I’m glad you’re feeling better now.” An awkward silence descends upon them, and Iris is unsure how to progress the conversation, but she can sense that Patty wants to say something further.

“Are you here by yourself?” Iris queries, intuitively determining that perhaps Patty’s odd behavior might have to do with Eddie’s conspicuous absence.

“You noticed, huh,” Patty bites out sardonically. “I’m supposed to be here with Eddie. In fact, Eddie is literally supposed to be here, because he’s hosting the night. But I waited for him for like thirty minutes in the lobby, and he never showed up, so I came here, thinking perhaps he’d forgotten to meet me— wouldn’t be the first time he’s done that —but he’s not here either. I’ve been calling him and texting him, but he’s being absolutely unresponsive.”

“You’re not worried, are you? Because I’m sure he’ll turn up. As you said, he is hosting this.”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Patty says. “I asked at the concierge if they’d seen him, and they said he had stepped out earlier today. And that Katie was with him.” Iris’s eyebrows raise, as she takes in this information. For she now realizes that Katie is also not present, and after she and Eddie had acted so bizarrely around each other yesterday, it is not particularly surprising that there is more to that story.

“So, they��re likely not coming here tonight,” Iris concludes, and Patty shrugs,

“So much for being a great host. Anyways, how am I supposed to tell Cecile that her god son might not be attending the gala he’s throwing in her and her husband’s honor?”

“Just tell her the truth, but don’t make it seem like Eddie abandoned her. I mean, we honestly don’t know where he is or why he is so delayed, but he could still make an appearance later tonight, after all.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Iris.” Iris nods, smiling reassuringly, as Patty heads over to Cecile who is standing a few feet away, chatting with one of the other guests. For a few moments, Iris is alone, as she mulls over Eddie and Katie’s absence, wondering what was so urgent that they had to leave right before Eddie was meant to begin hosting this gala for Joe and Cecile. Apart from his apparent inability to be a good host, it just seems so sudden, especially since Katie had been clearly trying to goad Eddie last night, by paying him no attention, and he had taken the bait with all his fuming and glowering.

A proffered glass of champagne enters her line of vision, and when Iris looks up, she sees Barry, handsome as ever in his tuxedo, holding the glass in front of her. His eyes are warm, conveying an abundance of emotions, and he’s smiling at her softly.

“Hi,” he says, almost a whisper.

“Hi,” she breathes, her voice also very quiet. They’re both gazing at each other, neither saying a word, before Barry lets out a small laugh, remembering himself.

“You look incredible,” he murmurs, as if in absolute awe, and the way he says it, with such reverence, makes her heart soar.

“Thank you, Barry. You look very handsome.”

He blushes, ducking his head, slightly, before continuing, “Uh, this is… this for you. I wanted to save a glass for you, because it’s elderflower and… you know, I realize now that there’s a bar, which I’m sure is probably stocked, now that I think about it… yeah, I’m sure it is, but at the time, I thought they might run out of glasses of champagne, because it didn’t seem like they had too many left being passed around. But I definitely wasn’t thinking about the bar. So, well, this is… for you, if you want it, of course. Do you want it? Because I can take it back and then…”

“Yes, I want it,” Iris chuckles, interrupting his rambling, which she finds utterly endearing, as Barry nervously runs a hand through his hair. “Thank you, Barry. I do love elderflower champagne.”

“Yeah, I know,” he answers softly. There’s something in his voice at that moment… an emotion that Iris cannot quite pinpoint, but it nonetheless ignites an intense warmth within her, and when she glances up at him, he’s regarding her almost sadly, like he wants so very much to tell her something, but he is unable to. She wants to tell him that it’s okay, that he can tell her anything and everything that he wants, but before she can, he whispers, “You’re wearing the necklace.” Her hand comes up to touch the wedding band, and she nods, smiling,

“Of course, I am. My best friend gave it to me.” He breathes out harshly, taking a step closer towards her, reaching his hand towards hers, almost as if by instinct.

“Iris, I need—,” he begins, but he is cut off by Cisco and Cynthia racing up to the both of them, having just congratulated Joe and Cecile and chattering about Eddie Thawne’s absence, of all things. Iris has half a mind to stare them both down for interrupting her moment with Barry, but decides against it, because she knows they didn’t exactly mean to tumble in on a private moment. Barry, on the other hand, does not seem to agree with this sentiment, for he is shooting Cisco a dark look, although Cisco, thankfully, seems oblivious.

“Can you believe Eddie isn’t even here?” Cisco asks immediately, shaking his head in apparent disbelief.

“I’m actually very surprised by him not turning up on time,” Cynthia replies. “I cannot imagine Eddie Thawne missing a gala that he, himself, is hosting. This is completely and utterly his element.”

“Katie isn’t here either. Apparently, she and Eddie went off somewhere earlier today and didn’t return. Patty told me,” Iris says, and Barry’s brow furrows at that, before he adds,

“I knew something was off between those two yesterday. It would maybe explain why the vibe was just completely off last night, like something just wasn’t adding up.” Iris catches Barry’s eye at that moment, and she feels her pulse race, upon the realization that Barry was apparently as completely befuddled and equally bemused about what was going on with Katie and Eddie as they all were. And that could only mean one thing, right?

“I think that much was obvious to all of us,” Cynthia replies, rolling her eyes. “Those two are a pair of absolute paragons of etiquette and normalcy when they’re around each other, aren’t they?” Everyone laughs at that, likely recalling the rather odd behavior both Katie and Eddie engaged in the previous night, which strengthens Iris’s resolve that perhaps she had been completely mistaken about what she had witnessed between Barry and Katie, although that betraying voice reminds her of the dinner at Marano’s, much to her chagrin. She is aware, though, that that is a question that needed answering. Eventually. Because at the moment she is certain that she wants to find that equilibrium again with Barry, before diving headlong into conversations that would likely change everything.  

Quiet orchestral music begins to play, and a man steps up onto the mezzanine, gesturing with his hands towards Joe, Cecile, and the rest of the guests.

“I am the manager of the Time Metropolis. Mr. Thawne is unfortunately detained tonight, although he hopes to make an appearance later on. He asks that we host this night in his absence, and so if I could invite the guests of honor, Mr. West and Ms. Horton, and everyone else to please head to the ballroom, then we can officially commence the festivities.”

“Thank you,” Joe says, holding out his hand to Cecile. After she takes his hand, and the two of them begin to head down the double staircase to the rather ornate ballroom, apparently modeled after some Baroque-style palace, the rest of the guests follow. Iris can feel Barry’s eyes on her as they walk down the stairs, even though she is a few feet in front of him, and a feeling of great anticipation washes over her, as she ponders how the night might unfold.

As they reach the bottom of the staircase, Cynthia stumbles on the second to last step, and Iris lurches forward to steady her friend, but in doing so, she too loses her footing momentarily, and she thinks they might both end up tumbling down together, but just as she catches Cynthia’s arm, one hand comes around her waist, the other on the small of her back, preventing her from falling. Indeed, Cynthia is able to catch her balance, with Iris steadying her then, and she smiles gratefully up at Iris.

“Thanks,” she says, and Iris nods with a smile,

“Of course.” But her concentration is on the two hands holding her, for they’re Barry’s hands, and she is extremely aware of his touch against her bare back, his fingers gripping her gently, but firmly. She turns to look at him, just as he asks,

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Bear. You saved both of us from tumbling down stairs in our gowns,” she replies, chuckling slightly, as Cynthia smirks, watching both of them closely,

“Yes, of course Barry did.” Noticing Cynthia’s knowing look, Barry and Iris smile sheepishly, seemingly embarrassed, but Barry does not step away from Iris, still holding her, the imprint of his hands hot against her.

The live orchestra is situated near the end of the large ballroom, and the conductor raises her baton, signaling that the musicians are about to begin performing a piece. Cynthia quickly says,

“I’m going to go see if Cisco wants to dance. Bye!” Before she walks away towards Cisco who is already near the center of the room. Iris shakes her head fondly, before Barry asks,

“Do you… would you like to dance, Iris?” His tone is soft and full of longing, and Iris recognizes the gravity of this moment.

“I would love to,” she replies, her face shining with a number of emotions, and she is uninterested in attempting to mask everything that she is feeling. She wants Barry to know. He smiles, releasing his grasp around her waist and back, and holding out his hand to her, which she takes in her own. As his fingers enclose around hers, she shivers for a moment, not of any cold air, but rather because of the intensity with which she knows that she loves him.

They make their way slowly into the ballroom, where the orchestra is playing a sultry musical piece, and Barry’s left arm comes around Iris, his hand settling at her waist, while he holds her left hand in his right. Her free arm goes around his neck and for a few moments they simply sway in each other’s arms, gazing at each other. Barry leads her around the other couples, but Iris barely realizes that they are in a ballroom full of other people, for she feels, within his arms, as if they are the only two people in the world. His eyes do not leave hers for even a moment, and it is hard not to mistake what he’s feeling in that moment, for his emotions are visibly ablaze upon his face. She wonders then how she possibly could have misread one night, when there had been so many signs telling her that he feels in their most intense moments all that she feels, but she supposes that the tricky thing about loving her best friend was the debilitating fear that he may not feel the same way. The fear that if she voiced her feelings, she could lose the safe harbor of their friendship forever. But change is sometimes not only good, but imperative. And perhaps that is the most integral part of what they shared; their need to trust each other in order to fully realize that their friendship was perhaps never simply platonic ever.

Iris moves closer to Barry in his arms, as they continue to dance, laying her head against his chest, feeling the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear. She closes her eyes, savoring his touch, while Barry’s arm tightens around her, his lips brushing against the crown of her head in a soft kiss. The music crescendos as they dance, coming to a natural end, and applause from the other couples erupt around them, but Barry and Iris, break apart only slightly, both of his hands now holding her waist, while his forehead comes to rest against her own. Iris’s hands slide up his chest, resting just below his bowtie, and they both breathe deeply, trying to mentally navigate what they are supposed to do next. It is apparent to Iris now that they cannot possibly put off the inevitable any further.

“We should talk,” she says, brushing her nose against his.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, dazed. She smiles, feeling his breath fanning against her lips, and realizes then just how physically proximate they are to one another.

“Privately, Bear,” she urges softly. He nods, seemingly coming back to his senses and registering that they are currently in a room full of other people. They move apart, slowly, his hands caressing her as he backs away, and Iris immediately misses the warmth of his arms around her.

“Right. I’m sure we can find somewhere private away from all of this. It’s a hotel after all.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” she replies, raising her eyebrows. He grins lopsidedly at her, and without another word, he takes her hand and leads her out of the ballroom, and she wonders if anyone has noticed them, but finds herself not particularly caring if everyone is indeed watching their abrupt exit. Once they climb up the stairs and reach the mezzanine again, nodding politely towards a few members of the hotel staff milling about there, Barry looks around searchingly, and Iris is aware that he is trying to determine where they ought to go. She squeezes his hand, before saying, “Let’s just go to my room. Otherwise we’re going to be running around this whole hotel searching for a quiet place.” Barry lets out a breathy chuckle,

“Yeah, good idea, otherwise we’d be something like a pair of high school teenagers at prom, running around the venue for somewhere private.”

“We did miss out on prom, though. Together, I mean,” she replies wistfully. Perhaps there’s something distinctly poignant about her tone, because Barry pulls Iris closer to him, his hand settling gently at the base of her neck, and he’s regarding her, adoringly.

“But we did get our dance, even if it is thirteen years later.” She smiles, her eyes glistening with unshed tears,

“Yes, we did.” At that Barry drops his hand to hold hers once more, and he presses the call button for the elevator, and as they await the lift, all Iris can feel is both deep contentment and love.

*

            When Iris enters her hotel room with Barry, it is with an internal sigh of relief, for the short journey from the mezzanine to the third floor of the Time Metropolis felt torturous, as they both were jittery with anticipation, but unable to truly voice anything until they were within the safety of a private room. Upon entering the room, Barry immediately begins pacing, while Iris busies herself by pouring them both glasses of water from a jug situated on the bedside table. She proffers one to Barry, and he stops fidgeting for a moment to take it.

            “Thank you,” he says, gratefully, and they both sip from their glasses. Iris figures that she ought to convince Barry not to resume walking around the room, so she sits down on the edge of the bed and kicks off her heels. “You make it looks so graceful,” he sighs, coming to sit next to her, clutching his glass tightly.

            “What do you mean?” she asks, and he turns, so that he’s facing her fully. Iris carefully places her hand over his, loosening his hold on his glass, hoping to help alleviate some of his nervous energy.

            “Everything you do. It’s so graceful. So beautiful. I just…”

            “Bear,” Iris starts, but Barry shakes his head quickly,

            “You don’t have to say anything, Iris. I know that I messed up yesterday, but the truth is I’ve been messing things up for years now.”

            “No, Barry, you haven’t,” Iris counters, while Barry puts his glass down on the floor beside his feet. Determining that they have now arrived at the point where all their cards are about to be laid out before them, Iris does the same with her own glass. When she places her now empty hands back on her lap, one of Barry’s hands encloses one of hers, gently prying her fingers open, so that her right palm is facing upwards, resting on her knee, before he interlocks her fingers with his. He brings their joined hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles, slowly, reverently. “Bear…” she whispers, but she is unsure what to say, recognizing that they are on a precipice of change.

            “I owe you an explanation. I owe you so much more than that, but perhaps I can start with an explanation. But first, I am so sorry, Iris. About last night. I didn’t… I obviously was taken aback when I saw Katie again, and her over-friendliness was a source of confusion for me, but I guess I didn’t have the wherewithal to deal with everything she was saying, but I shouldn’t have even let her say anything. And if I’d been unable to stop her, I should have shut down all of the absurd insinuations she was clearly trying to make. I was put on the spot, not that that’s an excuse, but when I saw you… when I saw your face, I knew I’d screwed up really badly. Because to see you look so upset and to know that I was the reason for it, I don’t… god, Iris, it felt like a knife to my chest, and all I could think about was how much of an absolute idiot I am,” Barry begins, speaking rapidly, voice trailing off at the end, and he’s looking at her so earnestly, as if the worst thing in the world to him is being the cause of even an ounce of her sadness, and goodness she just wants to take his face in her hands and tell him that he is her happiness. But she stops herself, because she knows they have to get through this conversation.

            “Bear, I’m not upset or angry with you now. But I was, especially right after Katie said what she said, when we had had that moment in my room just hours before, when you came to give me this.” And here she picks up the wedding band sitting between her collar bones to emphasize her point. “It just felt like everything we had shared had been rendered insignificant in that moment. Like it was nothing. And then I thought I had maybe read the moment wrong, but whenever I go over what happened in my head, I know that you were feeling what I was in that moment.”

            “You weren’t reading that moment wrong, Iris. Not for a second,” Barry says, using his free hand to cup her cheek. She leans into his touch, closing her eyes for just a moment. “We almost kissed in your room, and I… there is nothing more that I wanted to do than kiss you. And then Cynthia interrupted, which wasn’t her fault, obviously, but I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t extremely frustrated, especially because we seem to have been interrupted throughout our lives a countless number of times.” He chuckles ruefully then, but Iris’s breath hitches, as she mulls over his words, particularly, there is nothing more that I wanted to do than kiss you. If only she could ask him then how he truly feels about her. If only she could tell him how she truly feels about him.

            “But what about the dinner at Marano’s?” she queries, instead, for that betraying voice in her head refuses to let her move past that. Surely, Katie did not completely make that up, for even if she was simply saying all that she did to get a rise out of Eddie, telling complete falsities seemed a step too far. And there was the added anxiety that Barry had not corrected her then.

            “Yeah, yeah, that was… Katie completely mischaracterized that dinner. I know it was dinner at Marano’s, but what she failed to mention is that Matt, who’s her cousin, as you know, was there as well, and the whole thing came about, because Katie showed up when I was tutoring Matt, and Old Mrs. Rogers was adamant that we all go out to dinner. But she was feeling unwell, and nonetheless insisted that we go, and it was impossible to say no, especially because Matt really wanted to go. I’m… I should have set the record straight last night, because I knew what Katie was trying to imply, and she was completely wrong on that account,” Barry replies, all in one breath, and he looks so pained that he’d let this fester, without correcting Katie’s white lie immediately, but Iris lets out a soft laugh, then,

            “If you could have seen the scenarios I’d somehow managed to cook up in my head… Looking back, I realize they were probably irrational, and I should have just asked you, myself, but I was devastated and angry, and I think I just needed time to myself at that moment.”

            “Iris, I am so, so sorry. Just the thought that you’d been in any kind of pain, because of me… god, I’m such an idiot,” he says, his fists clenched on his lap, and his tense form causes Iris worry. She frames his face with her hands, caressing his cheek with her thumb, hoping to soothe him. She leans in to rest her forehead against his, and for a few moments, all Iris can hear is their breathing, as she feels some of the tension in Barry’s muscles dissipate.

            “It’s okay, Barry. This is not your fault. We just both stumbled into a series of romantic mishaps, because of someone else’s lies. But we’re here now,” Iris soothes. Barry grins at that, fully relaxing then.

            “Romantic mishaps, huh?” he teases gently. She moves away from him just slightly to look at him properly, chuckling,

            “Would you characterize it otherwise?”

            “Not at all. Especially because Cisco said that you and I have been constantly tumbling into romantic mishaps throughout our entire adult lives. I was so mad at him, both last night and today, because he kept saying that I couldn’t call you or text you… and you should have seen me today. I was oscillating between walking around like a zombie and ranting at Cisco about how he could put me through this. He wouldn’t budge, though, repeatedly telling me that I needed to give you a day’s worth of space and that I’d see you at the gala. And I was going out of my mind the entire day. But now,” he says, bringing his hands to her waist, slowly, tentatively. “I think maybe he was right.” Iris silently agrees, because despite her initial frustrations over Barry having not reached out to her today, Cisco was probably right in refusing to allow him to call or text her. They both clearly needed the day to work through their emotions by themselves.

            “Well, Cisco is quite wise,” she remarks in response.

            “Drove me insane today, but yeah, he has his moments,” Barry jokes, and Iris laughs. “God, I love your laugh.” Iris raises an eyebrow at that, as she simultaneously runs her fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes for a moment, as if relishing her touch.

            “You love my laugh?” she asks in jest, but his expression becomes solemn, and he pulls her closer to him, his hands remaining on her waist.

            “Always have. I remember,” he begins, slowly, carefully. “…When we first met. My mom had brought me to the playground when I was ten, and I’m pretty sure I was upset about the new move to Central City, so she probably took me there, so that I could blow off some steam. And I’d somehow managed to swing myself so aggressively that I’d tumbled headfirst into the dirt. I was so angry and annoyed, and I’m pretty sure about to start crying, but then there was this small hand…” At this, one of his hands release her waist, and he grasps her hand, intertwining their fingers. “…Reaching out to me. That was when I’d first met you, and you were smiling and asking if I was okay, and I’m sure I said something stupid, because I was kind of in awe. But you laughed and told me that I was funny, and I’m quite sure… no, I know that that was the moment that I fell absolutely in love with you, Iris. Or maybe it was a year later when my dad died, and you found me crying in a corner, hours after everyone had left, after they’d all come by to pay their condolences, and you stayed up all night with me, holding me. Looking back, I knew I loved you then. But when you’re a kid, you can’t truly fathom love, but I knew I had a total crush on you, and when I was about sixteen years old, I identified that what I felt for you was love. I was in love with my best friend, but I didn’t know how to tell you, because I was so afraid that I would completely ruin our friendship. And yet, the years that have past since our childhood and young adulthood just strengthened my feelings. I’m more in love with you today than I was when we were children.” As Barry speaks, he holds absolutely nothing back, wearing his heart on his sleeve, and Iris tells herself to steady her breathing. Because she is aware that if she is completely honest with herself, she has known that Barry reciprocates her feelings for a long time, but to have him tell her, to have him say that he’s in love with her… there is nothing that could prepare her for this moment.

“You’re incredible, Iris,” Barry continues. “I don’t think you even realize how amazing you are. You jump headlong into seeking the truth, with little care to your own safety, because you so innately believe in the importance of preserving justice and saving lives. You see the best in people, no matter what, but most of all you inspire people. I’ve told you time and again that you’re my hero, Iris West. But more than that, whenever I see you, it’s akin to coming home for me. I’ve struggled with the concept of home and where that might be for me, especially after my dad died when I was a kid, but I’ve realized that home is not a place. It never has been for me. Instead, it’s a person. It’s you. Whenever I need to get away from the rest of the world, my safety net is you. You’re whom I always run to. Because you’re my home, Iris, and you always have been. I love you deeply. And I promise that I’ll dedicate every day to loving you… if you’ll have me of course.” Tears spill from Iris’s eyes then, which Barry immediately catches with his thumbs, gently brushing them aside, as he cups her face. He’s smiling so widely at her, his own eyes glistening, and she finds herself contemplating how surreal this moment truly is.

“You really have quite a way with words, Barry Allen,” she says, her voice shaking, slightly.

“Only for you. You’re the storyteller, after all. I’m just the boy luck enough to love you,” he replies, and Iris’s heart soars, completely overwhelmed with love for the man sitting before her.

Then she begins,

“Well, I suppose I should tell you about the day that I am quite sure was a moment of exceptional clarity for me. We were in the eighth grade, and I was overworked as Editor of the Central City Junior High Gazette, because none of my fellow cub reporters were completing their articles on time. Unfortunately, not all fourteen-year-olds took their responsibilities as junior reporters in training as seriously as I did mine. It was nearing the end of the day, and I still was short two articles, and I was nearly in tears over the stress of the realization that I was going to need to cover two stories, myself, in a matter of twenty-four hours, because we needed to fill the page quota necessary for publication. The door of the classroom opened, and you enter, and I didn’t know what it was about seeing you then, but the moment I saw you, the dam broke, and I was sobbing. And you raced over and hugged me and asked me what was wrong, and when I told you, you simply said that we were going to find two stories to cover together and that you’d stay over at my place for the entire night, if you had to, helping me. And in that moment, I knew everything was going to be okay.

Because the truth is Barry, you are my rock. You’re always there for me no matter what, and I didn’t know then why I finally cried only when I saw you, but I know now. I felt safe to fully release my frustrations and anxieties, despite still being in school, because you were with me. Whether you’re entering Jitters to meet me or racing through the doors of the Citizen with Big Belly Burger take-out, I’m home the moment I see you. I love you, Barry. I love you so, so much, and I’m completely yours. I always have been, and I always will be.” At the end of her declaration, Barry is gazing at her both lovingly and ardently, and he says,

“And I am totally yours.” With his hands still cupping her face, he surges forward and captures her lips with his, kissing her hungrily and passionately. This kiss is years in the making, and there is no easing into it, as Iris gasps into Barry’s mouth, her hands climbing up his chest, until one hand settles at the nape of his neck, while the other remains near his heart. She presses herself even closer, wanting to be as physically proximate to him as she can, and he evidently wants the same, for he secures one arm around her back, pulling her smoothly into his lap, until she’s straddling him underneath her long gown. There are vague warning bells in her head, reminding her that she might tear her dress, but she is hardly concerned about that, figuring that her dress can certainly weather a night of her finally kissing the love of her life.

Meanwhile, Barry’s hands have bunched up the skirt of Iris’s dress to her hips and are roaming the smooth skin of her now bare legs, and his mouth leaves hers and moves to the skin below her earlobe, before slowly kissing the side of her jaw and then her neck.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” he murmurs huskily, then.

“I think you might have,” she chuckles, breathlessly.

“Well you look absolutely beautiful,” he responds, before kissing her again, this time more languidly, taking his time to really explore her mouth. Iris responds, cupping his chin with one hand, equally enjoying his more relaxed kisses as she did his passionate kisses moments ago.

She then pulls away for a moment, and Barry groans, chasing her mouth, but instead she undoes his bowtie, with nimble fingers, and takes in his flushed lips, dilated pupils, and mussed up hair, and she’s sure she has never been more content than in this very moment.

“I love you,” she says, as he buries his head in her chest and mumbles something incoherent. “Bear?”

He turns his head to the side, so that she can hear him when he states, rather hoarsely,

“Iris, when I said I was yours, I meant it. Seriously, I’d literally do anything for you.” Iris smirks at that, maneuvering his head gently away from her chest, so that they were eye to eye, before replying,

“That could turn out to be a very dangerous statement, Barry Allen.” Barry grins, rising to the challenge.

“I’d be more than happy to indulge in a little danger where it involves Iris West,” he responds. Iris raises her eyebrows at that and brings her lips to Barry’s, coaxing his mouth open with hers. He wraps his arm tightly around her lower back, while his free hand dips under the hem of her gown, bunched up at her waist, brushing his fingers teasingly against the soft skin of her abdomen, while she runs one hand through his hair, as the other unbuttons his dress shirt. Her hips buck against his, as she caresses his bare chest with her thumb, soliciting a moan from him, which she quietens by deepening their kiss.

Barry lifts Iris, then, and in one movement lays her on the bed, as he hovers over her, before gently moving his lips from hers to trail soft kisses down the length of her neck. Just as he reaches her collarbone, there is a loud banging on their door, and Barry groans loudly, dropping his head to her chest. Iris sighs, running a hand through his hair, when a voice that most definitely belongs to Cisco yells out,

“Barry? Iris?”

“If we ignore him, do you think he’ll go away?” Barry mumbles, just as Cynthia says rather loudly,

“We know you two are in there, so don’t pretend you can’t hear us.” Barry audibly grumbles, while Iris chuckles,

“Baby, I admire you wanting to ignore those two, but I really don’t think they’re going to leave.” Barry lets out a puff of breath that fans against Iris’s skin, and he slowly rolls away from her, sitting up and placing a pillow in his lap, perhaps in an attempt to be discrete, although privately Iris knows that Cisco is absolutely going to comment gleefully on his friend’s state of disarray. Meanwhile, she gets up and adjusts her dress, so that it falls back over her legs and walks over to the vanity mirror, grabbing a make-up cloth to wipe off her now smudged lipstick. She’s quite sure that she’s already sporting love bites on her neck and shoulders, but she cannot seem to bring herself to care about concealing them.

Once she’s satisfied that she’s as presentable as she can possibly be, given the circumstances, she opens the door of her hotel room and sees Cisco and Cynthia standing by the threshold, both wearing similarly smug expressions.

“Iris!” Cisco says, clapping his hands together, dramatically, while Cynthia scrutinizes her, before asking,

“What’s that on your neck?” Although her tone suggests that this is no innocent question, and she’s simply trying to put Iris on the spot, Iris refuses to take the bait, instead querying,

“Are you two going to come in? I imagine you’re here to deliver urgent news.”

“Patience,” Cisco replies, jovially, as he enters the room and spots Barry, sitting on the edge of the bed. At this sight, Cisco seems positively gleeful. “Nice pillow, Barry.”

“You are an ass,” Barry mutters darkly, not bothering to greet his friend.

“Love you too, man. And by the way,” Cisco chuckles, throwing his arm around Iris. “It’s because of me that this happened.” He gestures between Barry and Iris. “Without me apparently putting Barry through absolute misery today, the two of you would have continued your decades long song and dance of refusing to acknowledge that you are madly in love with each other.” Iris shrugs off Cisco’s arm, rolling her eyes, fondly.

“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Cisco,” she says.

“Mmhmm, forget West-Allen Matchmakers. I think Ramon and Sons, Experts in Match-Making is the real success story.”

“Is that so? Because I’m pretty sure the two of you have been clearly enjoying each other’s company, and Barry and I can definitely take some credit there,” Iris replies, raising an eyebrow, and Cisco blushes at that, tucking his shoulder-length hair behind his ears.

“Well, for two people who apparently are champions at setting everyone else up, you sure took a ridiculously long time getting your respective acts together,” Cynthia retorts. At this, Iris saunters over to the edge of the bed, sitting next to Barry and leaning her chin on his shoulder, while he takes one of her hands in one of his.

“Maybe. But we’re here now,” Iris replies, as Barry kisses her forehead.

“Y’all are cute, I’ll admit,” Cisco says, and Cynthia smiles at the sight of them together.

“So why are you here?” Barry asks, stroking Iris’s knuckles with his thumb. In response, Cisco grabs a chair near the vanity and sits down, while Cynthia seats herself in a cushioned armchair by a round coffee table.

“So…,” Cisco begins, pausing for dramatic effect, although his anticipation is not reciprocated by either Barry and Iris, who do not prompt him. “Alright, so, guess who showed up just now, roughly halfway through the ball?” Cisco does not wait for an answer, however, the question apparently rhetorical. “That’s right. Eddie Thawne, accompanied by Katie Rogers. Their appearance so late in the game is not even the real crazy thing, because you’ll never guess what happened when they arrived. Okay, so the two of them show up, and they’re dressed for the occasion, and they head over to Cecile and Joe, where Eddie apologizes profusely, naturally, but then seems to reveal something to Cecile which makes her absolutely ecstatic. And she’s crying and hugging Eddie. Needless to say, we were all quite curious as to what could possibly be going on, but Eddie dispels the suspense quite quickly, when he and Katie head over towards the orchestra, and he abruptly stops the musicians and conductor, before taking a mic and claiming he has a big announcement.

He apologizes sincerely for being so late, but explains that he has a reason for being late, and this reason is that he has big news that will bring everyone at this ball great pleasure. And he proceeds to announce that he and Katie just eloped and got married.” At this, Barry and Iris exchange flabbergasted looks, before turning back to Cisco.

“Excuse me?” Iris says, as Barry’s brow furrows contemplatively.

“They got married,” Cisco repeats, shrugging his shoulders. “I know, I know. But that’s where they were today, apparently. Getting married. I’m ninety percent sure, though, that this was a decision made on the fly.”

“But they clearly were having some sort of argument yesterday that we all were not privy to.”

“Yep. I still don’t know what that’s all about, but I have a theory from talking to Katie afterwards. I obviously went up to congratulate them, because what the hell else are we supposed to do, and I was like, ‘Oh this is very nice and all, but this seems sudden.’ She was really cagey, but kind of let it slip that she was pissed that Eddie was keeping their romance a secret from his family, who wouldn’t approve of his involvement with her or some crap, so Katie had given him an ultimatum of her own that if he didn’t get serious with her, she was going to leave him. Guess that kicked his ass into gear.” Iris notices Barry watching Cisco closely, as he takes this in, nodding along. Cisco’s explanation appears to have given him some clarity on the situation.

“That makes sense,” Barry sighs, shaking his head. “I think I may have somehow ended up as the scapegoat, while Katie was trying to make a point to Eddie. But it’s just… god I’m such an idiot, because all the while, Iris was hurt by all this mess, and that is on me… I should have been clear about setting the record straight.”

“Hey, Bear, it’s okay,” Iris soothes. “It really doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Barry exclaims. “It does matter, because all of that hurt you, Iris. And it’s just… god, this is my fault, and…” But Iris has heard enough, and she grasps both his hands in her own.

“Barry,” she says firmly. “We’ve been over this. What happened last night was not your fault. None of this is your fault. You couldn’t possibly have known about Katie and Eddie’s romantic drama. It seems like nobody knew that they were secretly dating.”

“You’re right,” Barry replies. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten so angry, but just the mere thought of Katie’s callousness, by trying to insinuate what she did about me and her, all because she was trying to make Eddie jealous, having hurt you is so infuriating.”

“I love you,” Iris whispers, brushing her lips against Barry’s jaw, just as Cisco clears his throat loudly,

“Hey, I know y’all are in that insufferable, just got together officially phase and all, but we’re still here, and I haven’t even gotten to the best part of the story.”

“Yeah,” Cynthia interrupts, clearly fed up with Cisco’s prolonging. “Patty dumped a glass of wine over Eddie’s head.” Barry and Iris turn to each other, sharing a surprised look, as Iris observes,

“And here Barry and I were thinking that we’ve had our fair share of romantic mishaps. Seems as if we don’t really know what actual romantic mishaps encompass, after all.” Cisco, however, is clearly affronted that Cynthia had botched his story-telling,

“That’s not how you tell a story, Cyn. You have to ease into the best part to build up the anticipation.”

“Please, there’s no building up anticipation with Barry and Iris, other than them anticipating our departure.”

“True,” Barry says, chuckling. “And also, I know Eddie definitely didn’t deserve to get wine poured all over him, but that’s undoubtedly a sight that I’d have liked to witness.” Thus, Iris is reminded of one remaining mystery, namely the prickly nature of all of Barry and Eddie’s interactions that she has witnessed, so she inquires accordingly,

“By the way, Bear. Why do you dislike Eddie so much? I don’t recall you two having spent all that much time together to have developed animosity towards each other.” Barry’s eyes widen at that, and he resembles a deer caught in the headlights, which Iris, naturally, finds incredibly endearing.

“Oh my god, you never told her?” Cisco cuts in, looking positively maniacal at this discovery. Barry begins shaking his head frantically at Cisco, but his attempts at preventing his friend from talking are of no avail. “So, the first time Barry and Eddie crossed paths was at some garden party Cecile hosted, and you took Barry as your guest or something. I don’t know the details, because I only have secondhand information from Barry, but basically Eddie tried to insinuate that he might be interested in you to goad Barry, probably, because he, like everyone else except for you two, knew how you both felt about each other. Anyways, Barry had some really harsh words for Eddie, and since then the two of them can’t stand the sight of each other. Talk about the world’s fastest rivalry for no real, concrete reason.”

“I hate you,” Barry groans, burying his face in his hands, but Iris refuses to let Barry wallow in embarrassment, so she nudges him with her shoulder, leaning into him.

“I think you having… how did it Cisco put it?… Harsh words… is hot, Bear,” she says. He turns to her, with a small smile,

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He cups her cheek with one hand, his fingers burying into her hair, and kisses her soundly.

“Ugh, okay, okay,” Cynthia interrupts, getting up. “We’re leaving. Have fun, you two.”

“See ya!” Cisco yells, as Cynthia takes his arm and pulls him to the door. “And remember, this is because of me. I’m the real matchmaker around here.” Once they exit the room, Cisco still chattering away, Barry releases an audible sigh of relief and mumbles,

“Thank god.” Iris laughs, leaning her forehead against his, closing her eyes, before stating,

“You do know that I was never interested in anyone but you, right? I could never really make it work with anyone else, because I was so in love with you. I am so in love with you.”

“I know. And I never could be interested in any other person other than you, not when you have always had my heart,” Barry replies, before continuing, “Also, just to clarify, Eddie and I don’t despise each other or anything; we’re just never going to be friends.”

“Mm, well, I don’t think you two will be seeing each other very often outside of occasional social gatherings.”

“Yeah.” They stay like that, foreheads resting together, taking comfort in each other’s arms, before Iris says,

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am in this moment.” Barry smiles widely at that, adjusting so that he’s holding her face in both of his hands.

“Iris, you have no idea how deeply happy you make me,” he whispers against her lips, his tone reverent as he acknowledges the depth of his love for her. “I love you. I love you so, very much.” A tear escapes him then, which Iris wipes away gently with her thumb, before pressing her lips to his, as she delights in the knowledge that he is hers to love and she is his to love for the rest of their lives.

*

One and a half years later

            Iris sighs contentedly, leaning back against Barry’s chest, his arm wrapped around her waist. She is seated in his lap, like a bride (which, in fact, she is), her white tulle skirt fanning around both of them. All around her there seems to be a flurry of activity, as she assesses the myriad of guests in attendance at her wedding reception.

            Wally and Linda are attempting to feed their baby twins, and despite their bemoaning that they cannot quite get this parenting thing down, they seem to be doing a wonderful job at soothing their agitated twins and getting them to eat some mashed foods, which they had brought with them in portable Tupperware. Every time Linda manages to feed a twin, Wally gives her an exaggerated kiss on the cheek, which seems to highly amuse the babies, who giggle uncontrollably at this.

Her father, with whom she had recently danced the father-daughter dance, is regaling some folks with stories about when she was young and how he always knew she was going to grow into an absolute journalistic star. Usually, Iris would be embarrassed by her father’s bragging, but today she lets him sing her praises, for it is her big day after all. Cecile is chatting with friends at a table, and seated near her are Eddie and Katie Thawne, whom Cecile requested be invited, much to Barry’s chagrin, and who are also expecting a baby, as Katie is already sporting a baby bump. Patty is also in attendance, which Iris had initially worried might be awkward, given that there is a good chance that Patty would run into Eddie, but Patty recently reconnected with an old boyfriend, and she brought him as her date. Plus, Patty has managed to completely ignore the Thawnes, at least thus far. Cisco and Cynthia, who have been dating for over a year now, appear to be in their own little world together, heavily flirting with each other at their table. Caitlin and Ronnie are sitting next to Cisco and Cynthia, but they don’t seem particularly concerned with the other couple’s flirting, for they are preoccupied with entertaining their two-year-old daughter.

Allegra, Kamilla, and James are all laughing about something, and Iris is glad that they are enjoying themselves, for she knows that last week was a highly stressful time at the Citizen, because they had finally published a piece, on which all the Citizen’s reporters worked for weeks on end (now a team of nearly fifty reporters, for the amount of positive publicity that had resulted from the McCulloch Tech exposé had catapulted the Citizen into journalistic stardom, particularly after Iris had been awarded a Peabody Award and Kamilla a World Press Photo Award for their work on the article), exposing a massive eviction scam, which implicated three local politicians. So, Iris is grateful that the three reporters seem to be relaxed and happy, the stresses of last week hopefully dissipating. As for Kara, she appears to have discovered the scrumptious doughnut display near the dessert buffet and is evidently in heaven. 

Iris’s Great-Aunt Esther sits at the head of the West family table, friendly, but reserved and still ever so beautiful. Barry and Iris are seated one table down from her, and when Great-Aunt Esther catches Iris’s eye, she winks at her favorite grand-niece, perhaps reinforcing the sentiment that she had voiced to Iris earlier that day that she is the happiest she could ever be to see her dearest grand-niece marry the love of her life.

“Your Mama, My Francine… she would be so proud of the woman you have become,” Great-Aunt Esther tells Iris right before Joe arrives to walk her down the aisle. Tears roll down Iris’s cheeks, as her Great-Aunt gathers her into her arms. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

“I miss her so, so much. Every single day,” Iris whispers.

“She is always, always with you.”

The memory from this morning is one Iris knows she will cherish deeply, but while she relives that moment, she notices that there now appears to be trouble, for Barry’s mother, Nora, joins Joe, and they both start telling the tale of how they knew Barry and Iris were always going to get married from the moment they witnessed the two interact as young children. Surely, the two of them would somehow manage to recount the numerous occasions on which Barry and Iris play-acted getting married as children, usually with a stuffed dinosaur presiding.

“When Barry came home from the playground that day after meeting Iris,” Nora says loudly, “He went running up to his dad and said, ‘Dad! I met the most beautiful girl in the world today. I think I want to marry her.’ And my late husband said, ‘Well, slugger, love is about reciprocity. Focus on getting to know her. And who knows, maybe one day, we’ll be attending yours and Iris’s wedding.’ And here we are.” Upon hearing his mother retell this particular story, Barry drops his forehead to Iris’s shoulder, groaning quietly, so that only she can here.

“It’s bad already, and they’re just getting started,” Barry mutters, kissing his wife’s shoulder. “I think we should make our great escape right about now.” Iris smiles, running a hand through Barry’s hair, as she feels Barry’s lips move upward, slowly beginning to trail kisses from her shoulder to her neck. 

“Bear, if you’re trying to get me to agree to leave with you right now…” Iris whispers, attempting to maneuver herself discreetly so that the guests cannot see her husband kissing her neck.

“Is it working?” Barry asks, looking up at her and smiling.

“You know it is,” she sighs, and he appears supremely smug at that. “But we do have to stick around for a while longer, after all this is our wedding reception. We can’t just cut out early.” Barry mumbles his half-hearted assent, although he seems unconvinced, before caressing his fingers against Iris’s arm, gazing at her, suddenly contemplative. “What is it?” she queries, softly.

“I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe we’re here, finally, at our wedding reception. I think it really only hit me that I’m marrying you when I saw you walk down the aisle, and you are so, so beautiful and amazing and wonderful, and I realized that I’m truly lucky enough to marry the girl of my dreams,” Barry replies, and Iris frames his face with her hands, leaning forward gently, so her forehead rests against his.

“Those tears were real huh?” she teases, gently. Barry chuckles, and because they are so closely pressed together, she feels the reverberations of his laugh against her own chest.

“Completely real.”

“So were mine,” Iris says, her lips just a hair’s length away from his. “Because just as it was overwhelming for you to watch me walking down the aisle, I was incredibly overwhelmed with happiness and love seeing you standing at the end of the aisle, looking so dapper, and knowing that I finally get to marry the love of my life, who is the most amazing man that I know.” Barry’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, touched by her words, and he brushes his nose against Iris’s, murmuring against her lips,

“I love you, Mrs. West-Allen.” Iris responds by kissing him once gently, and they are silent for a few moments, foreheads still touching, and contemplating the depth of their love for one another. Then, Barry shakes his head fondly and remarks, jokingly,

“You and I are complete saps.”

“Eloquent saps,” Iris corrects, laughing. “But that’s why we’re perfect for each other.”

“Mm, true,” Barry says, taking her hand in his own and bringing their joined hands to his lips and kissing her fingers one by one. “I love you so much, Iris.”

“I love you,” Iris replies, before her expression becomes more mischievous. “It’s a shame we don’t have balloons at our reception.”

“Why? Were you planning on wrangling some into our car? Personally, I’d be game. I only got to witness you successfully fit those balloons into your car last time, an admirable feat, I might add.” Iris shakes her head fondly, feigning mild exasperation, while Barry laughs.

“Spoken like someone who has never had the view from his rear mirror constantly marred by inflated balloons,” Iris sighs. “And so no, I do not want to attempt to take any inflated balloons with us in a car, but I guess I was just feeling slightly nostalgic, because it was at my dad and Cecile’s wedding reception that I think I realized that I’ve always been in love with you.” Iris looks down at their intertwined hands, while Barry’s gaze becomes solemn, then, as he tucks an errant strand of hair that had come undone from her elaborate bun behind her ear.

“Well, that was also the night I first really told you how I felt,” Barry replies, and Iris glances up at him, surprised. “Yeah. Do you remember when I said that something incredible has always been in front of me, and I just really should throw caution to the wind?”

“I remember. You were talking about me. About us,” Iris whispers, and Barry nods, caressing her cheek gently, his touch warm and comforting against her skin.

“Yeah. I guess that was one of the many times I really came close to spilling my heart out to you, but Linda was also there, and I figured your dad’s wedding reception probably wasn’t a good place to tell you how I feel. Although I do think the spirit of weddings prompted that particular confession that night.”

“It’s silly now, looking back, but I remember thinking that you were talking about someone else at the time, and that’s when I truly realized that I am absolutely in love with you and have been for years.”

“I know that was all cleared up quite quickly, but I could never have been ever talking about anyone else,” Barry says, and Iris smiles, turning her face into his hand and placing a soft kiss on his palm.

“I know, Bear,” she replies, but from his expression, she can sense his adamancy about providing abundant clarity.

“It only has ever been you, Iris. It only has ever been you,” he whispers, and she lays her head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat underneath her palm, before murmuring,

“And you’re the only one. You’ve always been the only one. And you and I have the rest of our lives to tell each other every day.” Barry adjusts, so that she is completely encircled by his arms, while he presses his lips to the crown of her head, as she, in turn, wraps her arm snugly around his waist.

“The rest of our lives,” he echoes, as his arms tighten around her. Iris smiles, glancing up at Barry, and remarks,

“Sounds pretty amazing, doesn’t it?” And he grins widely, bending his head towards hers and whispering,

“Absolutely incredible,” against her lips, before kissing her soundly.

#westallen #westallen secret santa #submission

[myglogic]

Priceless | Bang Chan | 05

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Pairing: rich kid! Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x female reader

Genre: Crime, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, fluff

Word Count: 3,8k

Summary: After Chan found out who you are, he seeks advice from non other than you own father.

DISCLAIMER: Everything in this fanfic is fiction - that includes Chan’s fictional father who of course does not represent Chan’s real father! ♥

As you managed to get all of flour off your hair, you had no idea that Chan was snooping in your room. You were still feeling a little giddy from the little flour war and you found yourself wanting to spend more time with Bang Chan.

You finished cleaning up fast just so you can spend more time with him but when you left the bathroom and didn’t find him in the living room, you got an uneasy feeling. Then you saw your bedroom door, wide open. Maybe he just wanted to have a look, right? You then walked in the while drying your hair with your towel, hoping that he would just look at your decoration. But no.

He was looking at a dress. No. The dress, from the gala.

You dropped your towel in shock and the first thing that came to your mind was saying, “I can explain.”, with a shaky breath.

Chan stood there eerily calm, still staring at the dress. “You can?”, he said in a tone that was creeping you out.

You didn’t notice the tears flowing on your face. “I can! Chan, please. Let me explain this calmly to you.”

He then looked at you with glance full of disappointment and anger. “Oh, really?! What the hell do you want to explain, huh? Do you want to explain the fact that you have been basically stalking my father? Or the fact that you were the girl who exposed everything to the public at the gala and ruined my father's reputation?! Where do you want to start?”, Chan literally exploded and you felt burned by his words. Everything he said was true.

“I-I’m sorry. But I have an explanation!”, you said while crying and trying to calm him down as you were walking towards him.

“No. Y/N. I don’t want to hear it! You have been using me! And to think I fucking trusted you!”, he took a step back from you.

“Chan, please…”, you sniffed.

“Don’t cry ‘cause you brought this on yourself! Just… leave me alone. I need time to think.”, he said as he harshly brushed your shoulder to take his things. “Don’t call me.”, Chan then left with a loud slam of the door.

You sat down on your bed, now fully crying. This wasn’t normal. You should be crying because you lost Chan as an informant for your article. However, you were sadder about the fact that you lost Chan as your friend.

♥.

Chan was furious and he knew he didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself. But it was obvious that you wanted to harm his family. Otherwise it wouldn’t make sense why you would spend so much time with him. Chan sat in his car, running his hands through his hair, almost ripping them out.

He felt hurt. For the first time in forever it seemed like someone truly cared for him. He was wrong once again. Chan tried to get his act together and decided to go to a nearby restaurant. He was really hungry and couldn’t think straight at the moment.

It was a Korean BBQ restaurant and Chan sat down to drink some soju and eat to calm down. He felt horrible after what happened. It wasn’t like Chan to lash out on someone like that. Did he go too far? Did he hurt you? Thoughts like these were plaguing his mind. He knew that he had every right to be angry. But maybe he should have given you a chance to explain yourself.

“Oh…I know you!”, a man, who was Chan’s waiter, said and looked at him with a fond smile on his face. The older man who was serving him his food looked familiar.

Chan sighed, normally he isn’t that well-known but some of the older generations knew him and his family. He really didn’t want to be recognized now. “Do I know you?”, he asked politely, trying to be respectful.

“No, but I know your father. I recognized you immediately.”, he said while smiling at Chan. “You don’t look good, though. I should bring you some more meat!”

“You don’t need to do that, sir. I just ordered.”, he said, trying to convince the man.

“A young man like you needs to eat. I know that I need to eat a lot when I feel down.”, he said and quickly brought him more meat.

“How do you know that I feel down?”, Chan asked the man who looked very wise. He seemed to know what he was talking about.

“Can I sit down for a second?”, the man asked and got a nod in response. “The name is Byungho, by the way. You know, I see it in your face. I see a lot of young people here with that expression. My daughter often has that look on her face too. She is always so worried but still tries to be positive.”, he then took out his phone to show a picture of her. “This is my daughter Y/N. Despite the fact that I couldn’t give her the best life, she was still so grateful…”

Chan’s eyes widened. Now he remembered why he seemed so familiar. In your apartment he saw a framed picture of you and your family. Maybe this was what he needed. To talk to your father. “I guess you’re right. I got… some problems with a friend. She lied to me and I don’t know how to deal with it.”, Chan sighed.

Byungho gave Chan a warm smile. “Friends can give you a tough time, that’s true. But you know what? You can find a solution to be happy. Let me tell you about my friendship with your father. I bet he didn’t tell you about me.”

Chan turned to Byungho, giving him a look of curiosity. “You know my father personally? I thought you recognized me from the media or something.”

“Actually, your father and I were best friends back then; Chan.”

January 1993

“Hey, Byungho! Try to catch the ball!”, Kevin Bang said as he dribbled the basketball.

“Oh, you bet!”, Byungho said excitedly as he took the ball from him. “Loser needs to pay for the food.”

Kevin smirked at his best friend. “You think I’m gonna pay? I don’t even have money, man!”

“As if I have the money. Come on!”

“We would always play basketball together and went through thick and thin even in school. We would always help each other. Your father actually helped me to date my wife.”, your father said and remembered the fond memory.

“Come on, Byungho! She won’t wait forever. You need to ask her out. Otherwise Kyungsoo will and we don’t want that, do we?”, Kevin patted his best friend’s back and shoved him towards the girl he liked.

“Okay, Okay!”

“Wow, he did that?”, Chan said, not expecting his father to be so romantic.

“Yes. He did that. I do have to thank him for that.”, Byungho said.

“What happened? You both are obviously not talking to each other anymore. Why?”

Your father sighed. “I don’t know if you want to hear this. But a lot of things happened. This is not exactly the nice part of the story.”

March 1999

“Byungho! I invested in my first property!”, Kevin said excitedly as he sat down next to Byungho. “I will be rich in no time!”

“Congrats, mate! I hope that you will be successful. And I got accepted to culinary school. I will hopefully become the best chef in Seoul and serve the best food!”

“Dude, I will be your sponsor and you will cook me some nice meals!”, Kevin said and shook your hand. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

Chan looked at Byungho, confused. “This restaurant doesn’t belong to you, right?”

Your father shook his head with a sad expression on his face. “No. But I did have one back in 2004. I also had a lot of customers.”

Chan seemed overwhelmed by all this new information. “What happened?”

July 2004

“Kevin?”, Byungho asked the man in the expensive suit who just entered his restaurant. “I didn’t see you for a while. You must have been busy.”

Kevin took off his glasses. “Huh, you’re right. It’s been a while. Can I have a table for the two of us?”

Byungho nodded and quickly prepared a table to sit down and talk to his old friend. “I’ve seen you all over the news. Your business is really taking off, huh?”, Byungho smiled at Kevin as he poured him some soju.

“Yeah. The restaurant’s looking nice too. But it’s still a little small, don’t you think?”, Kevin said as he accepted the glass of soju. “You could have more. So much more.”

Byungho shook his head. “For the time being I am happy like this. I will hopefully expand more in the future.”

“How about now?”

Byungho sat up straight. “Is this a business proposal? Are you going to sponsor me?”

“Something like that. But think bigger. Not only 2 or 3 three restaurants. Think about franchises in the whole world! Korean food for the world.”, Kevin said with hand gestures that emphasized “think bigger”.

“You know I can’t afford that, Kevin. Are you insane?”, Byungho said, confused.

“I will not sponsor you. But I am doing something big right now and I want my best friend to be involved too. This is going to make both of us filthy rich.”, Kevin said and took a piece of meat in his mouth.

“Aren’t you already pretty well-off?”

“I am. But this will make everything better and bigger.”, Kevin leaned closer to his friend and started whispering, “This isn’t exactly legal. You see, I know a few guys who work very well with drugs. Heroine, ecstasy, molly. Anything you can think of. The money I get from that I will invest in more real estate.”

Byungho’s eyes widened and he immediately stood up in anger. “What the hell are you saying?! Since when do you deal with that shit?”

“Sit down! It’s been a short while but I want to share my method of earning money with you.”, Kevin said calmy as if this was a normal conversation.

“Kevin, you know this is highly illegal. I don’t want to be dragged into this. Leave me alone, I have a family. What if you get caught? I can’t go to jail and not see my wife and my daughter.”, Byungho said angrily.

Now it was Kevin’s turn to get angry. “Oh, really?! It was very selfish of me to think that you’d want to earn money! I thought we were friends.”

“Friends don’t do that to each other. Supporting each other doesn’t mean doing illegal things together! You have a child too, don’t you think about him? About what will happen if you get caught?”

“He has nannies who can take care of him. And I will not get caught.”

“This is stupid, Kevin! Leave me alone with this or I will report you to the police. I can’t believe that money and fame changed you this much. I can’t even recognize you.”, Byungho said, dead serious.

“I guess you aren’t the guy I used to be friends anymore. How can you threaten me right now? You will regret this, Byungho.”, Kevin spat and he got up. “I hope this restaurant goes to hell with you.”

Chan’s eyes widened in shock. “Drugs? My dad deals with drugs?”

Byungho shrugged. “I don’t know if he still does that but he wanted me to deal those drugs with him. I just couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to.”, he said, still thinking about the past. “I lost my friend then. I tried to find a solution but in this case the solution was to let him go. But he didn’t let go of me yet.”

June 2004

It was a normal workday at the restaurant. Byungho didn’t hear anything from Kevin after that day but he still had an uneasy feeling. He knew what Kevin was capable of so he was trying to be cautious.

On that day, the police came to his restaurant out of nowhere. Some of the policemen and women were regulars at his restaurant, so Byungho thought they came to eat. “Hello. Do you want to stay or take out?”

The policeman looked at him with a serious expression. “Mr. Y/L/N, we aren’t here to eat this time. We got a tip that you are hiding something in your restaurant.”

You were sitting at one of the booths, as you were a little child you didn’t understand a lot. You were drawing some pictures for your father as the police arrived.

Byungho was confused. “Hiding? What are you talking about?”

The policewoman looked at your father with a sad expression on her face because she knew your family well. “It’s serious, Mr. Byungho. We got a tip from an anonymous source. They said that you were hiding drugs.”

“This is ridiculous. Of course, I don’t have such a thing. Please, have a look at the restaurant, I can assure that this is a misunderstanding.”, Byungho said and assured them that everything was fine.

But it was not.

On that painful day, the police found drugs hidden in some cabinets of the kitchen and in the freezer. It was a big amount and nobody knew where the drugs came from. You clearly remember the day they took your father away, with big teardrops falling from your eyes.

“Mommy, where are they taking daddy?”, you asked while crying.

“Somewhere safe. Nothing will happen to him darling.”, your mother said, panicking on the inside as she watched her husband in handcuffs walk past her. Your mother was holding your closely, trying not to cry but miserably failing at doing so.

Your father was convicted of drug possession and was sentenced to 2 years in prison. The restaurant was closed shortly after that because no one wanted to go to a prisoner’s restaurant.

Chan couldn’t believe his ears. “…If I am connecting this right, the drugs didn’t belong to you?”

Byungho looked sadly at his surroundings. “No. I hired a new employee a few weeks before all that happened. Turns out he used to work for your father and that he was the one who hid the drugs and was hired by your father to do so.”

Chan started shaking again but this time it wasn’t because of you. “How do you know that?”

“I was released six months earlier for good behavior and because they found evidence that I wasn’t behind it. The employee got arrested but not your father. Nothing was linked to him but I know it was him. Because on the day of my release, I saw him. He was eyeing the whole situation.”

Chan was in shock. After all the thing his father did to him, your father still talked to him as if he was not the son of the man who destroyed his life. “Didn’t you get your restaurant back?”

Byungho shook his head. “No. It was hard for me to find a job, especially if you have a criminal record. I guess you could say that my best friend betrayed me the worst way possible. So, please. Talk to your friend. It cannot be worse than my situation.”

Chan wiped his eyes quickly. “I’m sorry. On behalf of my father. No one deserves that.”

“I don’t want your apology son. I want your father to be rational and to find his sanity. What he did to me is unforgivable. But son, you aren’t your father. Do something with your life.”

“How can you be so… civil with me? I am-“

Your father interrupted him. “You aren’t your father. I will not repeat myself.”

Chan understood now. Of course, you would hate his father. His father was the reason why your family lost everything. You just wanted justice. You wanted the world to be aware of what kind of person his father was. After all, Chan apparently didn’t know his father at all.

“Thank you, sir.”, Chan thanked the man. “You helped me a lot. I know what to do now.”

“Come back here if you need to talk to an old man. You know where to find me.”

“I will.”, Chan smiled gratefully at Byungho. “Thank you!”

♥.

As Jisung came home, he saw you crying. He immediately started hugging you and comforting you. You told him everything from the beginning. He listened to everything, then made you some tea to calm down.

“Do you like him?”, Jisung asked after taking a sip from your tea.

“No. It’s not like that.” At least that was what you thought. “I betrayed him. I don’t know.”

“It’s not about the article anymore.”, Jisung concluded on his own.

“I guess it is. You know what happened to my family, Ji. This feels like an opportunity to get justice for my family but at the same time I hurt someone who wasn’t involved at all.”, you said as you sipped on your tea.

“Y/N, you know what’s wrong and what’s right. You should sleep and get your mind off this whole situation for a bit.”, Jisung said and put an arm around you. “You don’t know what you’re doing, right now.”

“I know… Thank you for listening to me. You are the best roommate ever.”

Jisung chuckled. “I know.”

The next morning you woke up with a headache. As if you have drunken a whole bottle of vodka on your own. You then sloppily got ready for work, not really in the mood to go. And you had to take the bus because obviously Chan wouldn’t pick you up.

As you went outside, you saw a familiar car standing in front of your house. Your heartbeat quickened as you spotted the driver. Maybe, he was here on accident. As you approached the car hesitantly, you noticed Chan glancing at you. He then made a head gesture to tell you to get in.

You didn’t know what to do at first but you still got in the car. Chan started driving without saying a word. You were confused because you didn’t know why he was here.

Chan cleared his throat. “I still have to drive you to work. Since, you don’t have a car.”

You then turned to him, even more baffled than before. “What are you doing, Chan? Why are you here?”

Chan sighed. “I am here to make things right. I didn’t hear you out yesterday.”

“You… want me to explain?”, you said in shock.

“Yes, please.”, Chan insisted in a calm voice.

Your hands were fidgeting and you looked at the quiet boy. “Okay. I was the girl from the masquerade ball, that is true. I mean… you figured that out already.”

Chan stopped the car at a quiet place and fully turned to you. You took a shaky breath. “I also admit that I was behind the plan. I guess I have a personal vendetta against your father.”

Chan then stopped you and looked down. “I met your father yesterday. It wasn’t on purpose. He told me what my father did in the past.”

“So, you know. You know why I hate your father and what he did to us.”, you concluded. You tried to look in his eyes but Chan was looking away in shame. “My father lost his restaurant, his passion. He loved to cook for everyone and he was a walking sunshine. After his jail time, nobody wanted to talk to us. Nobody wanted to hire him. He had to do shitty jobs to make sure that we had something to eat and a warm place to stay. And it was your father’s fault. So, it’s true that I researched all that to show the world his true face. Because I know he has the media in his control.”

Chan took a deep breath and finally looked at you. “Is that the reason why you started spending time with me? Was all of this a set-up?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t plan on seeing you at all. When you crashed into my car, I took the chance. You have every right to be mad at me. Because I did continue seeing you because I wanted more information on your father. But I didn’t get any. At first, I didn’t like you because I thought you would be just like him.”, you said but then reached over to his hand to hold it. “But you are the sweetest person I have ever met. You are nothing like your father.”

Chan squeezed your hand. “I understand your anger. I really do. After talking to your father, I realized that I never really knew my dad at all. I would do the same if I were you. I would want justice.”, Chan said and gave you a concerned look. “If you want clarity, I can help you. This is the least I can do.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked him, confused.

“I want to know if there were more incidents like these. Especially if there were more illegal things involved. If I want to take over his company, I need to know if there is more dirty money involved. I want a clean company and I want justice for people who were hurt by my father.”

Your eyes widened. “You want to help me?”

You were shocked. What did this mean? Did Chan decide to turn his back on his father?

“Yes. I don’t want to get the media involved. At least for now. But I want to solve this. With you, Y/N. Because I know you have a lot of information about my father already and with my help, we can maybe find a way into his office and find more evidence.” Chan looked at you with determination in his eyes.

Right at that moment, you wanted to bring up the article and your job. But you couldn’t. Chan wanted justice for everyone his father hurt including your family. He wanted to do the right thing. If you brought up that you were journalist who wanted to publicly destroy his family, he would probably never talk to you again. Right now, however, you didn’t care about your job or the article. You found someone who was willing to help you and who cared about you.

You were questioning if you should even write that article. Minho would probably still let you write it because he knew how interested you were at writing the frontpage article. But for now, with the help of Chan, you could finally find out the truth behind Kevin Bang and his illegal businesses.

“You aren’t mad at me anymore?”, you said with a worried look on your face.

Chan sighed. “I was mad that you lied to me. But I understand why you did what you did. You were in a tough position and I honestly acted like huge dick yesterday.”

“No. I should have told you. So… everything is fine?”, you asked him for assurance.

Chan nodded. “Yes, Y/N. I am not mad at you, I am mad at my father. That is why I want to work with you on this. So, are we doing this? Like detective partners?”, Chan asked, once again squeezing your hand as if he was saying that everything is going to be alright.

“Like detective partners. Let’s do this.”, you nodded at him with a smile on your face.

#bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan x reader #chan x y/n #chan #chris bang x reader #chan x you #chris bang x you #chris x you #chan x female reader #skz chan #skz #skz x reader #skz x you #chris bang #christopher bang #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids han #chan stray kids #stray kids x you #stay #Minho #lee know x reader #lee minho #seungmin #felix #jeongin #i.n

[ashistrashhh]

here are some fic recs!! including sakuatsu, bokuaka, kuroken and matsuhana bc i couldnt help myself

if you want, ask me about a certain ship and ill give you some recs!

-sakuatsu-

Marble and Sandstone by red_camellia

rating: G words: 12,937 chapters: 2/2 

author summary: Miya Atsumu only cares about volleyball and nothing else. That is, until he develops a strange obsession with the marble statue of a young man that seems vaguely familiar in his university's arts department. One day that statue comes alive as the very real Sakusa Kiyoomi, and they are left with the mystery of why Sakusa Kiyoomi was turned into a statue and only came back to life when Atsumu touched him. Their new-found connection and the strange mystery turns Atsumu's life upside down, not least because of his growing feelings for Sakusa.

my notes: this was a rlly cute fic!!! 11/10 would read again!!

let it go (paint my body gold) by lunarism

rating: T words: 3,272 chapters: 1/1

author summary: It becomes a routine for them. Sometimes they go grocery shopping and make dinner together, other times they end up talking until Sakusa feels like his own shower and bed is calling him. Every single time Sakusa gets home, shrugs his coat off, balls it up, and proceeds to scream profusely into the fabric for a few minutes.

my notes: pining!!! sakusa!!! also casual painter!atsumu!!! and they paint together!!!

craft a miracle with these hands, lips, (silence) by chrysanthe (sonderesque)

rating: T words: 4,252 chapters: 1/1

author summary: ‘Someone is here to ruin your night,’ his door tells him. ‘You should let them in.’ “I’M HOMELESS OMI-OMI. HOMELESS,” yells the one here to ruin his night. “LET ME IN.”

(What does Kiyoomi sell his sanctuary for?)

my notes: hnnn rlly fuckin cute,, and domestic,,,,

Clipped To You by littleboat

rating: T words: 8,174 chapters: 1/1

author summary: It starts with Hinata Natsu, of all people.

Well, if Atsumu’s being honest with himself, it started way before that, but he’s not, so that’s besides the point. And thankfully, he’s just petty enough to blame all of his problems on a thirteen year old girl.

or Sakusa starts wearing hair clips and Atsumu is more than a little obsessed

my notes: minor kagehina, bokuaka // god these fics rlly make me simp for fictional characters even more than i should. but!! sakusa!!! in hairclips!!! and a pining atsumu!!!

learn how to lay me down in something other than danger, other than fury by rosevtea 

words: 34,211 chapters: 1/1

author summary: All of the ways fellow college TA Miya Atsumu reinvents Kiyoomi's definition of normal.

my notes: god i loved this. it’s a fake dating au and like,, even though they’re “dating” sakusa keeps letting his guard down little by little around atsumu and it surprises everyone. komori and akaashi just know  that they’re were genuinely pining for eachother

among probabilities and a thousand fates by aalphard

rating: T words: 15,675 chapters: 1/1

author summary: prompt fill for “in a world where the red string of fate exists, person a’s finger always twitches when person b, who can see the string, tugs on their string” | or sakusa thought he had a tic and atsumu liked to see his confused expression when it started to happen exclusively when he was around.

my notes: i! loved! it!! so basically atsumu and osamu have the rare gift of seeing the red string of fate, so they know its real but sakusa, like most other people dont believe it exists. so atsumu gives sakusa a (kinda) hard time. rlly cute!! i love soulmate aus!

-bokuaka- 

love in the time of wifi by dalyeau

rating: G words: 4,177 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Akaashi is coming to terms with the fact that he might be romantically interested in his volleyball captain. Hence, doing what any sixteen year old with a problem should do. He asks about it online.

my notes: really cute fic about akaashi asking what he should do about his crush on a site similar to reddit. its kinda a “i didnt know it was you” kind of fic and it made me happy

steam by orphan_account

rating: E words: 8,474 chapters: 1/1

author summary:

 bokuto: why is he so hot bokuto: why am i so gay kuroo: LMAO you mean your vice captain right bokuto: yeah

The coach blew the whistle for practice to begin, and Bokuto drummed his fingers against the bleachers, awaiting Kuroo’s reply. He was about to walk away, when his phone buzzed in his hand.kuroo: i got this bro bokuto: what bokuto: wtf does that mean

Bokuto started to panic.

my notes: explicit!!! but really wholesome. kuroo is honestly the best wingman. i also think this is my favourite bokuaka smutfic?? 

just to miss the sun by rosevtea

rating: T words: 15,126 chapters:1/1

author summary: Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

my notes: akaashi is a booktuber and bokuto crashes one of his streams. fans begin to speculate. rlly fluffy and can u tell i like bokuaka

brain fish by iceblinks

rating: T words: 12,026 chapters: 6/6

author summary: Akaashi wakes up to a string of texts from an unknown number. 

my notes: i love text fics and i love wrong number aus so u can tell how much i loved this. really fluffy and i come back to it time to time

-kuroken-

us three by honey_s

rating: T words: 5,137 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Kuroo’s gaze flits over to the utensil. His eyes bulge out of his skull. “Wh—is that a meat hammer? Put it back!” Akaashi’s head recoils back in confusion. “I don’t understand the problem here.” “Why on Earth have you got a fucking meat hammer? We aren’t going to kill somebody!” “Well,” Akaashi begins, clearly taken aback, “I apologise for assuming. I had heard Kenma-san had been hurt in school and after getting a message from both of you to meet late at night, I merely filled in the blanks and assumed we were going to beat someone up, for lack of a better term.” “Not literally! I meant metaphorically, or figuratively, or something!” “Idiomically?” “That isn’t a word, Bokuto-san.” “Jesus Christ,” Kuroo groans, dropping his head into his hands. “We're going to jail."

my notes: bokuaka and kuroo are ready to beat someone up for kenma!! and we stan!! 

Cherry Pits and Cat Tattoos by strawberryriver

rating: G words: 6,141 chapters: 1/1

author summary: 

Kuroo has been in communication with his soulmate ever since they were kids. They've known each other for so long that he never really worried about when or how he would meet them. At least, not until he meets the roommate of Bokuto's soulmate.Soulmate AU in which things written on your skin show up on your soulmate. Companion piece/same AU as Serendipty

--------------------

Kuroo Tetsurou liked to write on his arms. Despite his mother's half-serious warnings about “ink poisoning” or staining his skin, he insisted on marking his arms and legs wherever he could. Not like his best-friend-since-always Bokuto Koutaro, who had to write on his arms or he’d forget to breathe, but artfully. He’d draw designs, animals, the occasional chemical compound. The whole idea behind soulmates fascinated him: how one person could mark their arm and someone potentially thousands of miles away, would have that same mark appear. The amount of articles, studies, and books he’d read about the topic, even at a young age, could put an undergrad researcher to shame.

my notes: again with the soulmate au bc i cannot help myself. but really cute!!! probably gonna read this again later!

Boom, Toasted by protostar (hearthope)

rated: T words: 6,782 chapters: 1/1

author summary:

 FROM: yuuji any bets on who hes texting??

FROM: eita He's smiling at his phone. Kuroo, probably

FROM: kentarou Kuroo

TO: fake family Have any of you ever once considered not prying

FROM: eita You deserve it

FROM: yuuji how can we not when ur in love!!

Kenma gets a text from an unknown number. He'd be lying if he said the guy behind it wasn't kind of endearing.

my notes: again, i love wrong number texts. it focuses more on kenma’s friendship, but kenma’s pov with texting kuroo is more than him realizing feelings and stuff. really cute, ive read it multiple times. 

Japan's most subscribed by NeverNothing

rating: T words: 3,631 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Kuroo Tetsurou @blacktetsurou changed his bio : volleyball player, co-owner of Bouncing Ball Corp. and so much more ;)

my notes: i! love! social media! fics!!! really cute and basically people wondering who the mysterious kuroo is to applepi. 

MATSUHANA!!! the underrated gem

texting (with a capital S) by parenthetic

rating: M words: 2,119 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Hanamaki breaks his No Texting In Class rule, and it's all downhill from there.

my notes: honestly more funny than it suggests, but its matsuhana, they’re meme lords.

rated m for by orphan_account

rated: T words: 10,692 chapters: 1/1

author summary: He should have known that there was a Specific Reason™ why it was so absolutely vital that he and Matsukawa specifically meet for a reading of the script. He should have known that there had to be some evil catch beyond sitting in a tiny, cramped studio with his newly sworn enemy.

Hanamaki stares at the title of the script he’d so gracefully neglected the night before.

FORBIDDEN PARADISE

“Excuse me,” Hanamaki starts, raising a pen in the air while staring blankly at the packet in his free hand. “Just to clarify, you want me to record a boy's love CD with Matsukawa?”

my notes: a very good voice actor au. there is some misunderstanding on hanamaki’s part bc he didnt finish listening to matsukawa, and this is really cute and i love matsuhana. 

In A Quiet Night, All Sounds Carry by levyovochka

rating: E words: 4,794 chapters: 1/1

authors summary: “Ah, ah, Too—!”

Hanamaki hates his university dorm.

“—ru, let me cum, please!”

Hold up. That’s a fucking understatement. Let him rephrase it: Hanamaki loathes his university dorm with passion. Detest the damned abomination, abhors it—

“—ru! Coming, coming—”

It has only been a month and Hanamaki already wants to die.

my notes: as u can guess minor iwaoi // rlly well written and bottom hanamaki rights and maybe my favourite matsuhana smutfic??? and hooh boy i simp for matsukawa

call me maybe by totooru

rating: T words: 33,689 chapters: 14/14

author summary: Hanamaki texts the wrong number when trying to extort tips out of Oikawa in order to defeat Iwaizumi in arm wrestling, and then continues to text the witty stranger who had answered.

my notes: minor iwaoi, daisuga, bokuaka // god i think this is my favourite matsuhana fic overall, maybe in general, but my god is it great. this is probably a common rec, but its understandable as to why it is. basically au where makki texts matsun (who goes to karasuno) instead of oikawa for tips to beat iwaizumi at an arm wrestling match. but they keep messaging. and holy shit i love their conversations. please read this, it is 256/10

there we go!! i might go a part two with more ships (kagehina, tsukkiyama and iwaoi) but this took up way to much time lol. i have an essay due in a couple hours. but hope u like these fics as much as i do!!

#haikyuu fic recs #fic recs #bokuaka #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #kuroken #kuroo tetsurou #kozume kenma #sakuatsu #sakusa kiyoomi #miya atsumu #msby black jackal #matsuhana #matsumakki #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei #kagehina #daisuga #ash's ramblings #hinata shouyou #long post

[notbang]

thoughts of you subside, then i get another letter

[Facebook Messenger window: Nathaniel

   THUR 12:07

hey!

are you there?

   12:13

the little green light is on next to your name that supposedly means you’re online so I kind of feel like gatsby right now jsyk

…that may have been a little dramatic

definitely feeling like this is some kind of glitch because I know you think social media is a productivity suck and it’s the middle of the work day so the chances of you not being knee deep in the environmental law equivalent of guatemalan jungle mud right now are slim to none

but I’m bored and restless and kind of having a shitty day (phone call with the mother this morning… ugh… enough said) so if it’s all the same to you I’m just going to continue to send my thoughts out into the internet ether where you’ll probably never see them

   12:32

https://www.buzzfeed.com/25-times-red-pandas-were-relatable-af

what are your thoughts on red pandas? I love their bushy tails and how they’re kind of like little red raccoons??

okay so I just googled guatemalan wildlife and here are some animals I think you should consider wrestling when you get bored of your monkeys:

a quetzal - national bird of guatemala, could possibly get you thrown in jail? also endangered. maybe don’t wrestle so much as gently tussle

an armadillo - they’re armoured and weird and cartoons lead me to believe they roll up into balls? please confirm

VAMPIRE BATS - self explanatory

an ocelot - looks like a house cat but will rip you to shreds. a comical misdirect

a toucan - why are their beaks so big? just feel like it would be funny idk

a FREAKING BASILISK - oh my god BASILISKS ARE REAL???? I don’t know what to do with this information. fuck.

   12:48

still reeling about the basilisk agenda

anyway I’m supposed to be writing but I just keep scrolling and I know I should just close my browser but I CAN’T because writing is the worst it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done

remember when I told you breaking up with you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done? WRONG that was a walk in the park my friend

(sorry to rehash old wounds)

   12:59

I know I owe you a letter btw but in case I haven’t made it clear writing is currently my mortal enemy and I am currently only capable of charming streams of consciousness

wonder if I could harness that somehow. I could be, like, the virginia woolf of songwriting.

morbid thought: your little icon thing-y at the top of the window kind of makes me feel like I’m having a one sided conversation with your portrait at your wake

I don’t know why I said that wow that’s such a weird creepy thing to say??

but also I stand by it

nathaniel plimpton iii: mauled by monkeys. may he rest in peace

(I know we’ve covered this but please don’t die)

you’d think I would have learned my lesson joking about that since the last time but turns out I decidedly have Not

   13:07

I love how I don’t even need you here for this conversation, really, because I already know exactly what you’d say. something about my pervasive inability to focus on work, probably

you’d be wrong, though - the reason I felt so free to focus on other things was that practicing law was easy. I could argue municipal code in my sleep! but writing songs? god, you have no idea. you’re lucky you don’t have a creative bone in your objectively aesthetically pleasing body because being creative is the fucking worst

it’s just occurred to me that perhaps you’re ignoring me because of the aforementioned letter-owing

and in response to that I’d say: who’s keeping tabs, really? should friendship be about keeping score?

so I just checked and it has been literal months since you wrote me and since the last time we went this long without corresponding it turned out you’d been in hospital recovering from a monkey mauling, I want to make it clear that I’m not in hospital, I’m just terrible

I’ve been working hard at being a more reliable friend lately but turns out that’s easier when it mostly consists of responding to impromptu facetimes with your friends that have moved to different law firms and cities and states and not so much the physical act of handwriting to words to your ex boss slash boyfriend that moved to a different country.

we draw the line at political borders, apparently!

this electronic word vomit DOES have me considering the merits of switching to email, but I’m also really attached to how romantic the act of letter writing is?? Who needs immediacy, really

to be clear, I mean romantic in the byronesque, whimsical idealism sense of the word. I’m not, like, coming on to you via Facebook messenger.

hahahahaha because that would be so wired right

*weird

yeah.

   13:22

anyway speaking of weird I’ve had my notebook open on the table next to me for well over an hour now and yet somehow this song hasn’t written itself which is basically a hate crime at this point

do you think in the future they’ll have some kind of technology that can extract images from your mind and adequately express them on the page for you? elon musk and his waifish canadian baby mama should get onto that

because these songs are always so clear in my head - we’re talking costumes, set pieces, montages - and the second the pen is in my hand it’s like crickets chirping

🦗🦗🦗

what would you say is the natural soundscape of guatemala btw? are there bug noises? I always imagine it with bug noises

   13:39

do you need bug spray? I could send you bug spray

   13:52

it has since occurred to me they probably have bug spray in guatemala which is probably for the best because they’re always weird about mailing aerosols since they might explode or something

hey. if your sabbatical had a theme song, what do you think it would be? right now I’m picturing a duran duran - hungry like the wolf kind of deal but you’re like… hungry for new opportunities or something

how do you feel about dressing like indiana jones?

idk I’ll workshop it and get back to you

anyway time to actually focus on my song writing so… sayonara I guess. or, as one might say in guatemala:

nos vemos 💩

   16:37

ok ok ok so I maaaay have just googled 'elon musk mind reading’ instead of song writing and that maaaay have lead me down a terrifying two hour long rabbit hole where I learned way more about the future of technology than I care for bUT BUT

https://www.thecorset.com/article/4372-elon-musk-grimes-rococo-basilisk

thanks, baader meinhof phenomenon. basilisk agenda CONFIRMED.

okay, actually signing off now but for realz. I’ve abandoned any delusion of you ever actually reading this which is probably for the best at this point but thanks for inadvertently keeping me company in my procrastination 💕 - strongly slash apologetically worded letter to follow.

maybe. hopefully. if I ever actually remember how to write.

bunch out!

💩]

#crazy ex girlfriend #rebecca x nathaniel #thoughts of you subside then i get another letter #my fic #shows up 6 months later with starbucks and a format change

[buzzykrueger]

A quick note about linguistics, translation and meta

I know that translating words that are difficult to apply to different cultures or to our concepts of relationships can be really frustrating or even hurtful (yeah killugon nation I’m talking about us), and I want to talk about it.

First of all, I know Gon always called Killua his tomodachi or tomodachi with some addition. And yeah, the separation scene broke everyone’s hearts for many reasons and by calling him his nakama (though I DO have a literary insight about this moment that makes me more optimistic, but I’ll save it for later). 

Now, I am no Japanese expert.  Actually I think I’m lower than a basic learner but, as a linguistic student myself, I know the word needs to be analyzed into context, preferably in its own culture, investigating practical applications and interviewing people. We call this our research corpus. 

We must understand that sociological relationships are built differently for each culture, and the structure of a language is a reflection of these patterns. Some literal translations, specially the “Japanese-to-other language” ones, might not pass what a word truly means in social contexts, because dictionaries are not the most effective way to analyze words by a linguistic/practical perspective. You need the social application of a word to analyze it properly. Dictionaries are a quick way to understand the etymology or the “instant translation” of a term, but not the best way to understand how it is often used (and sometimes focusing in way too literal meanings). Take the shinjuu as an example. It IS often used in a romantic context and probably will be interpreted like this if you use it in front of people acquainted with this word, even if it means literally just “double suicide” in translations. So, if Japanese people use it more in a romantic context, they are more a reliable source to understand it than a dictionary. The same goes for nakama, tomodachi and other similiar terms when it comes to friendship.

I say that because the social application of a word is the most reliable source for an analysis, the dictionaries (same-to-same or same-to-other) are just one of the tools. And more, language changes over the years, by people’s demands and desires. (calling all transphobes who say “you can’t make up a new pronoun”: uh, actually yes, you can. We make new words and give new meanings every now and then.) 

So, if it’s useful to my fellow meta-writers, I’ll leave this quick research here. Even though is about how adults see their nakama relationships, the article includes some sociological insights of how certain groups perceives the words shinyuu, nakama and tomodachi, and has a very specific part about etymology, application of those terms, intimacy and how teenagers mostly use them. Including also very good references at the end, too.

EDIT: “so you’re saying Killua said the shinjuu word with a romantic tone” yes, I am, fight me. We choose in our heads the words we’re saying, they are not random, and this goes for both the author and the characters. If you have other terms meaning “dying together” with no romantic tone but chooses to use that specific famous term, I don’t think it’s unplanned.

I hope this was helpful! :)

#hxh #linguistics #meta #killugon

[faemytho]

I’m not really in the hazbin hotel fandom ((I love the show don’t get me wrong I’m just not in the fandom)) but I kinda wanna see what you mean? Also I figure you’re still okay with people shipping him just either the fact that people ignore that canonical he is aroace sex repulsed or use it as a “oh we just have to fix him” trope (which fuck that trope)

Same asker that admitted to not really being in the hazbin hotel fandom but liking the show- thought it over and i actually don’t know how you could do Alstser (can’t spell bare with me) without having him as aroace sex repulsed without having him look barely anything like the original- maybe apart from that fic you made a while back

-

okay so, in regards to this post i made earlier about aroace romantic/sex repulsed alastor, that was a headcanon. (i said, and i quote, its canon bc i said so, but in reality ive fooled u all it was just a headcanon i even said so in the tags)

my headcanons aside, alastor IS canonically ace, as referenced by this tweet below (and hey, canon bi character!!! we love that!!)

there is also a footnote on the HH wiki that says alastor is aromantic as well, but the footnote links to a four hour stream video, and i do not actually have the patience to comb through it to see if that's true or not (or if it even came from the mouth of vivzie)

uh, yeah. here's the link to the stream, in case anyone wanted it/was curious.

canonicities aside, lets get one thing out of the way:

i am all for ignoring canon, using fandom to do whatever you want, ect ect, all power to the fans and whatnot, do what you want and be free because its fiction

which means, yes, i am 1000% okay with people shipping alastor with whoever they want! with angel, with charlie, with husk, with vaggie, with nifty, ect ect ect, i don't care, ship what you want, be free, live your best life.

my problem, though, is this: literally nobody in this fandom knows how to write an ace character. and when they do write him as "ace", its OFFENSIVE.

i cannot COUNT the amount of alastor fics ive read where he's supposedly written as asexual (and its usually even tagged in the fic tags, "asexual character"), then ends up sexually attracted to his given partner for that fic, and when they actually go to do the deed, alastor is infantilized to, well, hell and back. and by that, i mean a few things.

he either:

doesn't understand his sudden sexual attraction and/or sexual feelings

doesn't understand what's going on during the sex scene

doesn't know the proper terms for body parts and sexual processes

is HIGHLY feminized and is categorized as "submissive" while the partner becomes the "dominant" and continues on with the sex scene

not only is that fourth one misogynistic and homophobic (an entire other can of worms about how feminine sub/masculine dom in homosexual relationships enforces toxic heteronormativity, aka, the idea that one must "be the girl" and one must "be the man"), but all four of these together are aphobic when you realize, "hey, alastor is an ace character".

off my point a little bit, but ANY relationship (gay, straight, and/or otherwise) should not be using sub/dom as a model to follow - sub/dom is a BDSM kink thing; it should NOT be the normalized sex model for ANY relationship.

there's nothing wrong with kink! but doing BDSM wrong can severely hurt/mentally damage either partner if done incorrectly. normalizing it means that so many young people don't actually understand what sub/dom actually means, and even less the consequences if done wrong.

but back to my point: asexual people get infantilized. and we get infantilized often, because people think "oh, you're not interested in sex/you've never had sex, so you must not 1) know anything about it, 2) know anything about the real world and how nitty gritty it is to survive out here"

basically, ace people get treated like children. a lot.

here is a fantastic article that explains the rampant infantilization of both aro and ace people, and why it is aphobic to do that.

i highly recommend you all read the article, because it is fantastically well written and concise. here's my favorite paragraph:

"Society conditions us to believe that a lack of romantic or sexual attraction is a transitory period. This viewpoint assumes an inevitable progression from a nonsexual to sexual state of being that marks entry into adulthood. Similarly, engaging in romantic relationships is recognized as a milestone of maturity. This stereotyping results in the infantilization of all aromantic and asexual spectra people, especially those who are entirely romance and/or sex-averse. It also incorrectly characterizes asexual people as sex-negative, even though personal sex-aversion and general sex positivity are not mutually exclusive. Moreover, the idea of “being ready” to progress from friendships to romantic and sexual relations undermines the value of platonic relationships, which are integral to our community."

i'm going to move on to one more point, because i know if i don't, i'll get SO many alastor allo-pologist authors whining and screaming about how ace people can have sex too

and yes, here's the thing: asexual people can have sex, can want to have sex, can be sex positive... but that doesn't change the fact that to be not-asexual (or allosexual, if you'd like to use proper terms), you have to be sexually attracted or experience sexual attraction - WHICH IS NOT THE SAME THING AS HAVING A LIBIDO, AND ITS NOT SOMETHING ACE PEOPLE CAN DO/HAVE.

what ace people can have:

a libido

sex

sexual arousal

sex drive

kinks

a partner they're not necessarily sexually attracted to, but trust to have sex with them anyways

what ace people can't have (unless they're not actually ace and are instead allosexual):

sexual attraction to someone

wanting to have sex with a specific person because of this attraction (a partner, celebrity, people they find explicitly attractive)

still confused? don't be!

here's a post where i better explain the difference between sexual attraction vs sexual drive and what that means for ace people

to close this out, im going to attempt to summarize why im so pissed about this.

alastor is canonically asexual.

he may be sex negative, sex neutral, or sex positive; we don't know, but this is fandom and we're allowed to headcanon him however we wish - we can even headcanon him as not asexual!

which is great, yea, but when the ace character is the fan favorite...

people constantly and consistently write alastor as "ace".

which would be GREAT! if they ever did it correctly.

here's what i see most often. instead of headcanoning him as not asexual, they've heard something about how ace people can have sex anyways!

so for woke points, they slap their alastor ship/sex fics with the "asexual character" tag, and write alastor in one of two ways

uwu baby "ive never said a bad word in my life and i dont understand how the world works" asexual

allosexual, but call him ace anyways

both of those are aphobic. i have yet to come across ONE fic where alastor's asexuality (negative, neutral, or positive) is written, and labeled, CORRECTLY.

you know, it actually hurts MORE when he's written as "ace (actually allo)" than it does if people just headcanon him as not asexual.

alastor is a successful serial killer. he has spent decades in hell.

ALASTOR IS A SUCCESSFUL SERIAL KILLER. HE HAS SPENT DECADES IN HELL.

and you cowards are going to write him as inexperienced, ""innocent"", sexually uneducated?? i think the fuck NOT.

NOT ONLY THAT.

alastor lived through the roaring 20s. the flapper movement. the harlem renaissance. AND the sexual revolution of the 1920s. HE LIVED THROUGH ALL OF THAT. and you're going to act like he doesn't know what sex is?? we even KNOW he lived through all that because he says it himself, "i havent been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929", and 1929 was the end of all those movements and the beginning of the great depression - and then alastor died in 1933 after living a successful serial killer life in louisiana.

tell me again, why wouldn't alastor know what sex is or how it works? and if you can't, THEN STOP WRITING HIM LIKE THAT.

please please PLEASE educate yourself before you write an asexual character. ESPECIALLY if you're going to write them with a libido, and actually ACTING on that libido.

thank you.

sincerely, an exhausted sex positive asexual.

#hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin alastor #i am at my limit #asexual #asexuality #fae rants

[historyofshipping]

The “Bellarke shouldn’t get together romantic because close m/f platonic friendships are rare on tv” pisses me off

 Ok so now I’ve seen three articles in the last few days talk about this and I’ve seen countless ones over the years and I just really feel the need to address it. (I literally woke up from a nap angry about this, so that’s where I’m at in life.) 

First, as I’ve said before, I (female) have a (male) platonic soulmate. We’ve been best friends since high school (basically half our lives now), he lived with me and my romantic partner for about 4 years, and I can’t quite explain how our relationship goes beyond friendship into soulmate territory - it just does. But we’ve never, ever felt an ounce of romantic feelings towards each other. I’ll even do typically couple-y things with him like go out to dinner with just us, occasionally use his lap as a pillow on the couch, I’ve fallen asleep in his bed, etc. But these acts aren’t intimate and don’t look intimate - unlike what you see with Bellarke. 

So not only do I know that m/f platonic soulmates exist but I love seeing them on TV because they are rarely portrayed. I think that m/f platonic friendships should be more normalized on TV but I digress. 

Here’s why this especially pisses me off - The 100 is one of the few shows that has VERY good m/f platonic friendships. Like jfc - Jasper/Clarke, Monty/Clarke, Bellamy/Raven (yeah they slept together, but does anyone really think they were ever romantic?). Raven/Murphy (I completely ship this though), Emori/Bellamy, Miller/Clarke, Octavia/several members of the 100, the list goes on. I mean sure, there are always people who will ship some of these pairs but there’s a reason why there aren’t large communities of them. It’s because they’re not written as romantic. 

I mean, when was the last time you saw Bellamy gaze longingly at Raven from across a campfire? Or have Clarke radio literally any other male (or female) on the ring? Why is Bellamy’s reaction the only one we really see when Clarke dies (we see a little of Madi’s too)? (Hint think about who else’s reactions are specifically shown when characters die - Finn - Clarke and Raven broke down, Lincoln - Octavia broke down, etc) Why is it that Bellamy is specifically targeted when people want to hurt Clarke? Who else has been accused of loving someone or referred to (incorrectly) as a romantic partner? These things are not accidents. 

This is exactly why if they leave Be/cho as canon and Bellarke as “platonic” it will feel like an epic failure as a story. It has been written as romantic from the start and for all of that to be wasted with a Be/cho endgame is just bad writing. We have no reason to see Be/cho as romantic and nearly every so-called romantic scene between them can be directly paralleled to a Bellarke scene that is infinitely more intimate and believable. 

It’s just so frustrating. 

#bellarke #bellarke rant #anti becho #antibecho #antiecho #anti echo #rant #tw strong language #cw strong language

[litakino]

I was asked by @floraone​ about my personal experience about Sailor Moon, so enter at your own risk, it’s a reaaaaaaally long post. There’s a lot of ramblings, and some pictures 😅

Alright, some context. I'm from Buenos Aires, Argentina, 31 yo, born in 1988. When I was a kid (7 or 8 y/o), during the summer break (which is December - March on this side of the equator) I attended what in Arg is called "colonia", which essentially is going on the weekdays to a club or school, meeting with other kids, and doing sports and going to the pool, supervised by teachers. It's the place your parents sent you in the summer in place of regular school, because they had to work. All this to say, I started watching Sailor Moon on TV after these summer classes.I came rushing home, and while one of my parents fixed me lunch, I would turn on the TV to watch an episode of Sailor Moon.

I found it! Thank you, internet. It aired from 1996 to 1998, first in a channel called "The Big Channel" and then in "Magic Kids" https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_Kids If you go to the 1996 seccion in "cronologia" you'll see the mention of Sailor Moon being aired for the first time.

People my age, from my country, who had access to paid cable TV will remember these logos fondly:

About the dub: Some of the names were changed for the latin american version. Rei and the outter senshi stayed the same, but Mamoru was called Darien, Usagi was Serena, Minako was just Mina, Ami was pronounced Amy, and Makoto was Lita (hence my handle, Lita Kino). I believe these names were the same as the English translations. Well, also, no one called them "senshi", instead they were "guerreras de la luna" (moon warrior, in it’s feminine form). Also, they were called "Sailor Scouts" (yes, in English), but I have no idea where this came from, probably from the English version? Oh, and The Dark Kingdom was called "Negaverso", also no idea where they got this name.

Also, it's worth noting, when I say "latin american version", I mean that usually, voice overs are made in a neutral voice? accent?, that it's not from any particular american spanish speaking country. So it's not Mexican, nor Chilean, nor Argentinian, but a mix of all of them, and not one of them in particular. We all have a specific way of speaking the spanish language, not the meaning per se, but kind of the sing-song quality of the tongue. So, to spanish speakers, someone from Venezuela and Colombia sound really different, even if we all understand what is being said. So most movies and series in latin america are usually "voiced-over" in a way that will sound native to no one, and "neutral" to all. (These are not made for Spain, that voice-overs are made in a distinctive spaniard accent)

About censorship

Recently, I've read about some episodes that were cut or smashed together in the english dubs, and from what I've read that was censored, that never happened in the Latin American versions. I know that Michiru and Haruka were made to be cousins in some translations, but not in the latin american one. Though I know their dialogue was often modified and "softened" to imply their relationship, instead of saying it front and clear (this was modified in the Crystal dub, that they are more literal and use the word "novia", meaning girlfriend, in a romantic context). The only outright censorship the classic anime had, as far as I know, was making Zoisite a woman, dubbed by a woman voice actor.

Daily life? Back then

In regards to my friends at that time, I know most of them were aware of Sailor Moon as a series, but I don't remember any of them being big fans.

There were tons of SM merch like school supplies (pencils, backpacks and such), but I don't think most of it was officially licenced. This is an example of a fannypack from around that time, that I found in an online market page:

Oh, a really really cool thing we had was these magazines that came monthly (starting in 1996), that had a bunch of cute articles about the series and characters, a central page with a "poster", and a comic version of the anime series (that's based on a manga, yeah, I know 😅) With these magazines sometimes came the movies in VHS format, and this is how I realized the movies existed. Also, there was this book called "the friendship book", that had a bunch of quizzes and questions to write about your friends, all SM themed. Oh, I also remember it had a brief explanation of the "I Ching", and a simplified version to "play" with your friends, and try and predict your love life. I have no idea where my copy is, it's possible I lost it :(

Here’s the short comic in one of the issues:

I believe we had the manga, translated to spanish, and flipped so it would read from left to right, but honestly I was too little to care about it, so I can't give you a detailed description of the manga story in this country. I only have only one edition from that time, that I bought when I was little, a 1998 Spanish (from Spain, not Latin American) edition of "The Lover of Princess Kaguya". I was little so please don't judge me, but I found that this "comic book" (as I saw it at that time) being in black and white was the perfect place for me to practice colouring so yeah. I defiled it 😅:

About Crystal, I just found out it was dubbed in latin american spanish, I never knew  It was never aired in Argentina as far as I know. Turns out, some of the voice actors are the same that did the original series, mainly Usagi / Serenity / Queen Serenity / NQS (whose voice actor is the same that dubbed Lisa Simpson in the LA version of The Simpsons xD)

You can find more info, in spanish, in this page: https://doblaje.fandom.com/es/wiki/Sailor_Moon_Crystal  

I have no idea about an Argentinian fanbase, though I'm sure there are tons of fans here. As I said, none of my school friends were particularly fond of the series, but as I grew up, I found tons of people who love SM as I did. Specially in the conventions world, there a lot of fan-made goods.

In regards to daily life nowadays, as a lot of my friends now are small-shop owners, and entrepreneurs, I've come to know and love a lot of people who make art for a living, sometimes SM related. Here are some of my favourites:

This is my favourite tattoo artist in the world. She’s an AMAZING ilustrator too. Would you look at that half sleeve? 🖤🖤🖤  https://www.instagram.com/bazanjara.tattoo/ Also, if you want to see the tattoo she did on me: https://www.instagram.com/p/Bykswm4AoWm/

She makes everything piggy  🖤🖤🖤 https://www.instagram.com/mundochanchan/ https://www.instagram.com/chanchanglobal/

She makes tons of stuff in air dry modeling clay https://www.instagram.com/poteitos.cosaslindas/

He’s an ilustrator, sometimes makes pins and sticker with his art. It may look cute, but most of what he draws is scalotoglyc humor 🤭🤭🤭 https://www.instagram.com/brunancio/

I even had some friends make me a SM mate 🇦🇷:

In regards to SM being a big LGBTQ+ representation, I know Haruka and Michiru are big parts of that here as well. I know someone who has Neptune and Uranus' symbols tattooed as a nod to that part of her identity, for example.

I'm sure there's a lot more to SM in Argentina, but this is as far as I know. Hope it helps!

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

APH College AU: Vietnam!

AU Intro | Tag is #college au musings!

Also, a disclaimer that I don’t know how law school works (besides that it’s really cut-throat and scary and very hard). Apologies if any of this is inaccurate, please correct me!

— Vietnam’s in Law School with an undergraduate degree in sociology

— She has a lot of interest in psychology but decided not to pursue it as a profession. However, she still reads studies, academic papers, and the latest psychology news to keep track of new discoveries and theories.

— On the debate team in undergrad with Alfred; they often debated against each other during practice (their views differ a lot and most times they’re polar opposites), but at competition, when they’re arguing the same case, they’re a force to be reckoned with.

— Speaking of Alfred, they’re frenemies; whether they’re friends or sorta enemies varies based on what dumb thing Alfred’s just done. Mostly they’re at least ok with each other though, although Alfred’s done stuff that she can’t really forget or forgive him for.

— Needless to say, she’s really smart.

— She’s also really clever (and subtle) when she needs to be, but prefers to be blunt and honest with most people. The exceptions are Yao, Alfred, Kiku, and possibly Francis.

— If you get into a debate with her, she’ll cut you to pieces every time.

— She avoids talking about her love life at all times and hasn’t been in a romantic relationship yet; most people just assume she’s ace or lesbian (she’s actually asexual biromantic so they’re half right)

— She does ok under pressure, so she holds up fine during cold calls: doesn’t get flustered, brain doesn’t go blank, able to make stuff up on the spot if needed, etc. (//for those who don’t know, cold calls are getting randomly called on to analyze assigned reading)

— Becomes super unavailable during midterms and final exams; she refuses all invitations to parties and social gatherings with a short, slightly impatient “No, thanks.”

— Takes digital notes, will send you stuff that you missed if you’re a friend. Her spelling is impeccable and her notes are good quality stuff: really detailed, organized in logical sections, main points bolded, etc.

— She has a reputation as a Big Brain so she gets a lot of requests to tutor people or send them her homework and stuff. Most of the time she says no; she knows some people who ask are just lackies and not putting in effort; she can see some of them are genuinely struggling but she doesn’t have time or energy to help them (also she doesn’t really feel like tutoring strangers...). She feels guilty about it sometimes but her friends talk her out of it.

— Most of her professors know her as someone who pays attention, does well, and has a lot of interesting takes on the material (she likes playing devil’s advocate). They like her; she doesn’t cause trouble, and although she’s not very funny, she often stays after class to continue talking about a different perspective of the topic they were discussing in class. They like her engagement with the material

— Likes most of her teachers, but if she thinks they’re boring or give too much redundant, monotonous homework, she won’t hesitate to moan about them.

— Best subject is history, and she doesn’t have a worst subject because she’s kinda a God Tier at everything (she didn’t like science though, but took a few semesters in her first year at undergrad just because)

— Straight As (90-100). In law school that changed to the B to A range (83-96) but she’s accepted it with resignation

— Does literally everything on her laptop, but her handwriting is very messy. She doesn’t care; she doesn’t feel like putting in the effort to make it neat and Pretty™ like Taiwan’s

— She’s friends with Romano and Belarus (they’re both on the law school path) and they like to go to coffee shops on a weekly basis to study and complain about the professors they don’t like.

— Taiwan takes her clothes shopping a lot; she thinks it’s a waste of time but her wardrobe increases by a few sweaters and jeans every time they go.

— She and Belarus met at one of America’s parties, and they have a friendship based on black coffee and acidic wit. A lot of people think they’re a couple, and they don’t really do anything to subvert that rumor either. They think it’s funny :)

— She and Thailand are childhood friends and they’re still super close. They share an apartment (they’re not dating though) but sometimes go to China’s place to hang out with his siblings

— Regularly writes opinion articles and submits them to the college newspaper under the pseudonym “Coffee and Taxes”; they’re often calls to action or her scathing opinion on the most recent Dumb Political Decision, but she mostly writes about college stuff and things she’s noticed taking root around campus

— Always cooks her own food in her and Thailand’s apartment (neither of them feel like buying from restaurants or eating the rather bad school food); they argue over who has to go buy groceries every week (but like, in a friendly way)

— Dresses super modestly; she rarely shows her arms or anything above her knees, and practically lives in sweaters, leggings or jeans, and wool socks.

— To that end, it helps that she has a really high heat tolerance; often times she’ll still be wearing a long sleeved t-shirt while everybody else is sweating profusely

— Unintentional dark academia aesthetic. She doesn’t go out of her way to buy stuff that fits the aesthetic, but it just happens to fit her style (idk if that makes sense but yeah)

— She sings (or hums, or whistles) quietly in the shower sometimes, usually sings traditional folk tunes and short, plaintive songs that have deep meanings about life. They’re usually in Vietnamese or don’t have any lyrics

— She doesn’t talk much around people, but when she chooses to open her mouth, you better be listening because whatever she says makes an Impact.

— Adding to the above, she’s mostly quiet, even around her friends. She’s just more content to listen rather than say things.

— When she gets angry, she either bottles it up, becomes super bitter, and chooses to avoid you for a week until you ask, or she just tells you bluntly right away, however she’ll still hold a grudge for a pretty long time.

— Small friend group but everyone knows her name somehow

— Good at reading the atmosphere; very often, she can detects subtle messages and double meanings. Good for gossip, but she doesn’t do that kind of thing.

Next is Taiwan (probably)! Thanks for reading!

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