#Barry is wondering how much something that big might eat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mlmvoreconfessionals · 1 year ago

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Since it’s now spooky month how about some more Bob Velseb vore? Maybe a few dates in for the his newly acquired boyfriend and him, showing off just how much he meat he can handle. Or if you don’t wanna how bout just some mass vore, with oral, pec and pit vore with weight gain and disposal?

I can make both of these the same thing, easy stuff. Obviously, this a follow-up to the old V.elseb asks, but I don't feel like searching for them to link.

Barry had to admit, he didn’t think things would go so...well? When the giant, cannibal serial killer basically told him they were dating, Barry figured it was just a little game and he’d be dinner himself sooner or later. But then he survived their first date...and the next...and the next...and the next. And now, a year later, Barry is starting to wonder if it’s not really a game.

Sure, tons of other guys have died over the course of their dates. Like...a lot, a lot. But not Barry. Bob licks him a lot, yeah, and might stick a hand or his head into that slimy, deadly maw...but he always lets Barry go again with a chuckle. Now, it’s Halloween again. Their one-year anniversary. And Bob wanted to do something special. And it involved the large house party that is happening tonight.

Bob is wearing his usual outfit, a thick red sweater and his devil face. Barry had let Bob do some face paint for him, too, so he’s a skeleton this year. A joke, since Bob likes to mention how he ‘has no meat on his bones’. Barry is only half confident that, if he did bulk up, Bob wouldn’t eat him.

Right now, at least, that drooling grin is much more focused on the house they’ve walked up to. Music blares out from inside, door open and already a few people milling about. Everyone is dressed in costumes of some kind and is in some state of tipsy. Barely anyone is even paying attention to them as they walk up...which really just makes the next part easy.

Bob yanks a guy dressed as a superhero up off the porch stairs by the back of his shirt. Maw opened wide, Bob lowers the guy right in, a few wet slurps and gulps sending him away. He barely even got a yell out before Bob’s jaws clack shut and his belly sloshes with live meat dropping inside. The killer slurps over his lips with a groan and pats his gut. “Mmm...now that’s good eatin’...”

Barry can’t help the slight chuckle that comes out of him. The guy didn’t even bulge Bob’s gut out, and it’s gurgling thickly around him. “How many people do you plan on eating, anyway?”

Bob slurps over his lips and looks down at Barry with wide, hungry eyes. “All of ‘em, darlin’.”

“...what?” Barry knew that Bob is a big eater. But he’s usually careful about where he goes to eat and how many people it is. He’s never seen the big guy go for more than ten meals at a time, and even that is when he’s being indulgent. The party is way more than that. “You can’t be serious.”

“Just watch.” Bob chuckles and pats his gut, the porch stairs creaking under him as he walks up. Three more people are lingering around the porch, and Bob does the same thing to each of them--hefts them off the ground and into his drooling jaws, slurping them away with practiced skill. By the time a pair of twitching cowboy boots are disappearing down his gullet, his groaning guts have begun to bulge out his shirt, peeking out of the bottom ever so slightly. Bob looks to Barry, blasts out a thick belch into the smaller man’s face, and then waddles into the house. Barry can only follow in stunned silence.

Bob’s massacre continues inside. The loud music helps to muffle a lot of what happens. Sure, people are more likely to notice Bob devouring others. It’s hard not to when he’s snapping his jaws down on people mid conversation, or walking up to clusters or people and just shoveling them down the hatch. But the yelling doesn’t do much, and no one is able to get away from those drooling jaws.

People try to grab onto their friends, and it gets them sucked down right after. Other try to rub, but Bob’s size makes it hard to get away from him, and he always grabs them and pull them into his maw. A few braver or larger guys try fighting him, but getting close enough to do so all but confirms their fate as food.

Before long, the living room of the house is mostly empty. Bob huffs, pushing a pair of kicking legs into his gullet. He doesn’t even swallow, just sends them down with a long push. “Nnf...there...” Bob slurps over his lips and pats his gut. It’s heavy, sticking out before him several feet and nearly on the ground. It’s bulging around the various people inside, limbs and heads and awkward shapes from costumes stretching him out. His sweater has ridden up on him completely, exposing the pale, hairy flash. It’s churning and rumbling wetly, working hard on all of the meat inside. Bob belches deeply, a couple stray bits flying out of his jaws--a plastic gladiator’s helmet, a boot, and a bone that definitely wasn’t a prop, among other things.

“W-Wow...” Barry murmurs, just staring at that massive gut. He’s never seen it this big. He reaches out, pushing on it and finding it taut. He gives it a rub, earning a content huff from Bob. If it wasn’t for the face paint, Barry’s blush would be very obvious. “Okay...you were able to eat a lot, I’ll give you that.” The gut gurgles thickly against Barry’s hands, as if agreeing. “But you’ve got to be full now, right?”

“Hm...” Bob taps his chin, looking down at Barry over the curve of his gut. “...I s’pose I could give my gut a break.”

“Alright. Maybe we should go before anyone else shows up then, just so--” Barry stops when he watches Bob pull his sweater off and casually toss it onto the couch he just cleared of its occupants. “...what are you doing?”

“I said I’d give my gut a break, darlin’.” Bob stretches his arms out, definitely showing off a bit--his gut has always been round and soft, and while his arms and chest had a bit of that softness as well, he had some well built muscle mass. “Didn’t say I was done.”

“But...” Barry trails off as Bob goes waddling off, towards the kitchen. A few more people are inside, making food or getting some that’s been left out. Barry stands in the large doorway, watching as Bob hoists up a couple of guys.

The two men find themselves getting shoved face first into thick, furry pits. They start to kick immediately, but Bob gives their heads a good shove, and they slip right in. Then they’re sinking deeper, disappearing into his body. It wasn’t just his jaws that he can eat with, after all, and while he had his preference...Bob was hardly far from full. In no time at all, a couple pairs of twitching feet disappear behind black pit fur, and Bob’s arms are bulging out slightly more than usual.

He moves right on, grabbing a guy rummaging through the fridge. He’s dragged up and over the curve of that bulging, stuffed gut. He gets out a surprised yell before his head is crammed between Bob’s pecs, and just like before, the man is simply sinking into the muscles with little resistance. A few tight flexes, and the man is gone, leaving Bob’s chest slightly more bulky than it had been.

The few remaining people in the room are put away just the same. Bob makes eye contact with Barry, arms folded behind his head, a blindly grasping arm and a twitching leg disappearing into each of his pits. “Think I can’t handle my meat anymore?”

Barry shakes his head quickly.

Bob chuckles and heads out back. The backyard has a lot more guys around, sitting by a fire or drinking on the patio. Just like the living room, the eating continues with no issue. Except it goes much faster, with three spaces to stuff with squirming meat instead of one. Bob’s arms and pecs continue to bulge out with each guy he sends in. They all kick and squirm, but the second they get pushed between his pecs or into the fur of his pit, it’s just a matter of time until they’ve been slurped out of sight.

Barry only stopped watching so he could help. He went back into the house, going through each room and telling any stragglers to head to the backyard. “There’s a fight!” “I think I saw your boyfriend kissing someone.” “Someone’s calling for you.” Whatever he could think of to get them to head out, he said it. By the time he’s double checked the house and returned to the backyard, Bob is already coming back inside.

The killer looks down at Barry, who walks directly into his gut. Barry had to back up just to properly see Bob’s face. His gut is still massive, but digestion is already taking its toll, the mass inside getting more compact and growing smaller. His pecs and arms are also massive now, bulging and flexing as they try to contain all the squirming meat. Barry can see an arm or even a head surface from between Bob’s pecs or his pit hair, but a single flex sucks them right back into place. If it wasn’t for the massive double doors, Bob wouldn’t even be able to fit inside.

Barry can’t even say anything. He just stares, and it makes Bob chuckle. The smaller man is gently ushered along, back to the living room, and Bob settles onto the couch. It breaks almost immediately under him, but he just settles in and pats his gut. “Happy anniversary, darlin’.”

“You...did this for the anniversary?” Barry asks. He slowly raises his hands to start rubbing along Bob’s gut, then up to his pecs and along his arms.

“What can I say? I wanted to show off a bit.” Bob pats the top of his gut with both heads. He tips his head back and lets out a deep, rumbling belch into the air. Barry swears it makes the entire house shudder. More bits of costume bounce around, and at least a few bones, too. “Figures I’d put on a show for ya.”

All these people are digesting for Barry, then. Some...god, fifty or so partygoers who were just trying to have a good night are now just food. Packed into Bob’s hellish guts, or stuffed into his tight, musky muscles, doomed to die, just so Bob could ‘show off’ for Barry. The smaller man pushes his hands a bit deeper into Bob’s gut, finding more resistance, and even getting another wet belch out of the killer. “...thanks, Bob. This was...wow.”

Bob chuckles and settles back. “Glad ya enjoyed it. Happy anniversary, lambchop. Now then...” WIth a mighty yawn, Bob closes his eyes. “I’m gonna sleep this off. You have fun down there.”

Before long, the sound of heavy snoring is joining the thick rumbles of Bob’s gut and the crunches and snaps coming from his muscles. And Barry enjoys it all, rubbing over every inch of the man’s body, feeling it work and process all of that meat. Up until he fell asleep against that rapidly softening gut.

Come morning, Bob was up first, yawning and blinking sleepily. He can feel his little lambchop sleeping against him, a rather familiar feeling at this point. Bob would have stayed like that if not for the wet rumbling in his bowels demanding attention. So, with a bit of effort, Bob grunts and rises to his feet.

Bob’s stomach wobbles as it drops in front of him. It’s always been heavy and round, but it’s gotten at least twice as large, hanging out at least a foot before him. He notices that his thighs and ass have had a similar shift, given how tight his pants are on him. But he also has a lot more strength to pair with that. His arms are bulky now, all solid muscle. His pecs are about the same, large and strong, resting slightly on top of his gut.

Bob smirks and scratches his gut gently, getting a wet groan in response. “Bet lambchop will love this...” He looks over at the man in question, seeing Barry still sleeping on the ruined couch. Bob grabs his sweater and pulls it down over his head. It only half covers his gut, and his arms and chest are straining the fabric. He huffs and lifts up Barry next, simply holding the now much smaller man against his gut with one arm. The other arm helps get his pants down enough to let his ass hang out. Bob squats slightly and begins to push.

There’s a bassy fart at first, one that rumbles out for a good while. The only reason it stops is because of the solid mass that starts to stretch him out. Thick, dense logs of shit are all but overflowing Bob’s bowels, and they’re sliding out with a bit of urgency. A heavy thump sounds out when the first log hits the couch, and it’s quickly coiling up. The mass only breaks from its own weight, letting more dung heap up regardless.

Plenty of solids have gotten out of Bob’s body. Bones are the easiest to see, specks of white that break up the dark brown and awkward shapes that stick out every so often. Entire skeletons are likely baked down into every log, given the sheer amount of people making up the mess. But along with that is all of the costumes parts. Masks, plastic armor, cheap suits and accessories--they also pepper the logs of shit, all of them worn down or slightly ruined by the acid bath or being compacted.

Despite all of the awkward shapes, the thickness of the logs, and the sheer mass of shit, Bob is having little issue. Other than the occasional grunt or grumble, his dump continues with little interruption. And the mass of shit behind him keeps building up. The couch is smothered fast, the pile rising hire, some hundreds of pounds of shit heaping in the room. Bob has to move forward every so often, just to give himself more space to work with. By the time he feels the last of the crap slop out of him, he’s moved halfway across the room.

Bob lets out a deep sigh and stands up again. He yanks on a curtain to wipe himself clean and pulls his pants back up with a bit of effort. Behind him, the living room is filled with a pile of crap that would put manure farms to shame. It’s tall enough to reach the ceiling at its peak, smothering most of the back wall and sloping down. Furniture has been knocked over or smothered under the thick logs. The smell is almost overwhelming, and it’ll likely never come out of the house. And of course, countless amounts of bones and costume parts stick out all over. In one night, an entire Halloween house party was reduced to crap, and all with no effort.

Bob doesn’t even look back at the pile he made. He walks off, squeezing through the front door, all while Barry sleeps against him. Bob can’t help but grin looking down at him. Nothing cuter than seeing the little guy sleeping against his deadly guts. Must’ve been up for hours, Bob figures. He’ll probably just return to bed once he’s back home, let Barry sleep in.

By the time anyone notices the smell and investigates, the killer will be gone, likely back home to spend the day with his boyfriend. For everyone in town, it’ll end up being a Halloween that’ll never be forgotten. For Bob, it’ll just be the anniversary he has to one-up next year. His cute little boyfriend deserves it, after all.

#v.ore #male vore #mlm vore #m/m vore #gay vore #oral vore #pit vore #pec vore #mass vore #digestion #fatal vore #disposal #vore story #bobvelsebvore #slashervore #ask

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lesbianalanwake · 1 year ago

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Re: dark presence rehabilitation, I was wondering... like, what's the goal? (this is based on my personal understanding which might be wrong.)

overall its goal seems to be to escape the dark place? but at the same time it seems like it wants to turn the outside world into something similar to the dark place, a neverending nightmare fueled by people's subconscious. specifically Scratch seems like a bit of a megalomaniac (I will make the entire world worship Alan's (my) writing forever!) (so much fun, geez...) - but... what's the point of escaping then? Scratch himself says in AN smth along the lines of a drop of darkness being absolutely inconsequential in the dark place, but so noticeable and fun in our mostly light world.

so, my suggestion is that the dark presence can stay outside but it ?should limit itself to smaller horrors. spice of life. a nightmare here, a nightmare there. Cats 2 (2025).

FHGHSKGHS drip-feeding the Dark Presence with minor horror allowances to keep it happy. it can ruin Hollywood. for Barry's sake.

it depends on what the Dark Presence and the Dark Place actually are. that could go a couple of ways. I could not even begin to guess which direction. scattered thoughts:

I prefer an explanation like "x entity became corrupted" over anything "inherent." it is man who is evil.

I'm continually wondering if the Dark Presence is, or is part of, a greater entity that got lost/corrupted.

AW2 describes the Dark Place as a mirror. I think the place that we see and experience might only be a sliver - a cracked and corrupted shard, if you will, because it doesn't always produce only suffering and misery and madness. just most of the time. so maybe Presence and Place are both parts of some greater ocean that got metaphysically landlocked.

maybe the Dark Presence is some kind of spirit of the Dark Place, and corruption in one leads to corruption in the other. so where did it start, if they weren't always like that?

the green/red Polaris/Hiss color scheme is all over AW2. Scratch is red like the Hiss. why is the Dark Presence so similar to the Hiss. what does it FUCKING mean, Sam.

(I have been thinking "the Hiss wasn't originally Like That" since I first played Control. something something the Hiss being embodied in Dylan who wasn't originally Like That either. so that makes me wonder even more about the Dark Presence, when they share those similarities. I cannot stop thinking about the apparently dead world that Hedron et al. came from. about the implication that something is eating away at the Oldest House, that its roots are withering. about the apparently empty world of the Quarry and the City. about how empty and occasionally extraordinarily violent the Astral Plane is when we see how full of life and personality the Altered Items are and how many of them don't really mean harm. about what might have made the Dark Place like that. what the fuck is happening out there in the conceptual reality behind this reality.)

there is the possible implication that the Diver had some hand in creating Scratch? maybe? but that goes back to the question of what the Diver is - Zane, the light/Bright Presence, something else. and what the goal is there. who knows.

I've said this elsewhere but I think Scratch in AWAN is more like. a ghoulish sliver of the Dark Presence mimicking reality like Jagger does, a finger of a giant hand trying to manipulate things. whereas Scratch in AW2 is the Dark Presence more fully embodied and also lost in the sauce. and it has fucked up big time by trying to use Alan to escape, tying itself too closely to him, to the point that even its grand escape is distorted by details of Alan's life. I don't think Evil Deerfest is necessarily what it might have originally wanted, but rather a sign that Dark Presence and Alan have overlapped to the point that Alan is changing it. like it's stuck in the Scratch persona now. has put on a skin that it struggles to take off. (but that's just a game theor--)

like. maybe it wasn't always a rabid beast of an entity and the Dark Place wasn't always a nightmare hell world, or maybe it's always wanted to get out of the Dark Place and doesn't necessarily have roots there. but over time Dark Presence/Place have absorbed and reflected so much of whatever corruption is going on that now Presence/Place want to make a distorted fun house mirror out of everything.

except. now the Dark Presence is not solely mirroring and reflecting corruption and "darkness" anymore. it's starting to mirror Alan even after it jumps out of his body, and, like Dylan being the narrative focus of physical embodiment for the Hiss, Alan is a (relatively) normal person who has been trapped and isolated for a very long time, which does strange things to a person. Barbara was just a sweet woman who got very unlucky. maybe the Dark Presence used to be similar. Evil Deerfest is strangely bright. we've seen it change, a little bit. something is going on there.

so I would like to see something a little more nuanced than "killing the evil" or whatever. (especially when it was all that Jesse and Polaris could do just to shut the door on the Hiss. ain't no way it's that easy.)

#alan wake 2 #control game #alan wake #alan wake 2 spoilers #idk i'm just wildly throwing darts at the board and hoping that something sticks fhgshg. it's enrichment for my enclosure #i love this lore so much. i want to eat it #remedy posting #*posts

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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 3 years ago

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Late Nights

Caitlin Snow x Reader

Request: maybe a Jealous!Frost x Female!Reader? Maybe Cisco sets reader out on a date to try and get frost and caitlin to admit their feelings for reader, and when reader is about to leave Frost comes out and shyly admits both hers and Caitlins feelings for reader? I think shy & jealous frost is cute. Maybe finish it with a kiss?- @idontloveher

A/N: So I did switch up the request a little bit and I know the writing isn’t the best but I hope you like it. It’s been a hot second since I’ve turned on The Flash, I feel like I may have captured Caitlin’s character incorrectly but this is my first request for The Flash so please excuse any mistakes!

Warnings: Swearing, Innuendos, tell me if you see anything else

———————————

Caitlin Snow wasn’t even aware that Y/n L/n was going on a date that night until N/n asked her to come over to help pick an outfit.

Frost almost blew Cisco out of a window when she figured out that he’d set it up. Caitlin was done working, merely helping Barry with something, when Y/n had walked in to ask her if she would leave with her then, to help her find an outifit.

“ Caity bell, Cisco set me up with a date. Care to help me pick an outift?”

She was leaning against the door, typing away at a computer pad, presumably finishing up her work for the day, and her hair was hanging like a curtain infront of her face.

Y/n looked up at Caitlin after a moment of silence and tucked her hair behind an ear, “ Caitlin?”

She looked so wonderously glorious in that moment, a smile to her face, the furrow of her brows, Caitlin’s heart leapt at the sight of her.

But Barry, no Barry was preparing for the blow Cisco was about to recieve from Frost. In those initial moments after Y/n had walked in, Caitlin’s eyes changed and he could see Frost take a look into the world for a moment. It was at that moment when he knew, Cisco was in a deep pile of shit.

Well, not really a pile of shit, he’d more or less just have to deal with Frost and Caitlin complaining about setting their friend up on a date for the rest of the week.

Y/n began to smirk at the look on Caitlin’s face. She was being pouty but smiling nonetheless. N/n knew that Caitlin would dress her up in something casual yet elegant, because Caitlin knew how Y/n looked in everything, Caitlin knew what made her eyes sparkle and what made her cheeks flush, she knew what looked flattering on her and what complimented her smile.

Caitlin knew everything about Y/n and Y/n knew everything about Caitlin.

Caitlin, Cisco, Barry and Y/n the original four.

But Caitlin and Y/n? They were the original two, the original set, the two people of their group who’d known each other for longer than anyone else did.

They’d always told each other their secrets, their every thought, but they never told anyone of how they felt for one-another. No, that secrect, those thoughts, were meant only for themselves. Their feelings were something that went unspoken between the members of Team Flash, but neither of them knew that, neither of them wanted to make a move, they didn’t want to seem too ‘desperate’ but unbeknownst the them, they’d been desperate for each olther since day one.

“ You look stupendous Y/n, don’t worry about anything, Frost and I both think you look beautiful as always. Some random person meeting you at Jitters can’t bring you down.”

“ Are you sure Caity?” she asked, earnest in her voice.

Caitlin was sure that she looked stupendous, oh she was very sure.

It wasn’t just another day when her best friend went on a date, no it was a very, abnormal day when that happened.

“ I’m quite sure N/n. Now hurry off, there’s a person waiting for you.”

Caitlin wasn’t mad at Cisco, no, quite the opposite. She was pleased that he’d gone and set her up with someone because Y/n had been looking a bit down lately. Although knowing it could help her friend feel better, Caitlin, and Frost, couldn’t help but be disheartened at the idea of N/n going out on a date, even a blind one, with someone else.

Oh how she wished to be the person Y/n went to meet, how she wished to greet her with a warm smile and a peck on the cheek every morning, Caitlin wished the best for her friend but still wished she would turn right back around and tell her the meet up was cancelled. Caitlin was sadenned, yes, but she couldn’t help but be happy for her friend, no matter how much it hurt her inside.

Caitlin wished she hadn’t gone out on the date but she wasn’t in charge of her best friends decisions, and she never wished to be.

Everyone should have the right to make their own decisions for themselves.

Frost handled her emotions differently than her counterpart did. When she’d heard Tech-Boy had set their friend up with someone she’d been infuriated with him. He’d known that Caitlin and I like Y/n and had still gone out of his way to arrange plans?! She was okay with Y/n doing what made her happy, although she couldn’t help but feel jealous of the person meeting her forever love at Jitters.

Caitlin nor Frost had felt good watching their friend leave the building, they’d each felt uneasy and all they’d wanted to do was reach out, grasp her by the arm lightly and plead with her to stay rather than leave. Caitlin and Frost wanted her friend to be happy so they helped her prepare, dressed in the dress that they’d always favored on Y/n, those sandals that they’d picked for each other; so they might be able to ‘accidentally’ match shoes at work for the day. Caitlin dressed Y/n in all of her favorites, the clothing her and Frost had always thought was their favorite from Y/n’s closet. So that maybe someone else might see the beauty both inside and outside of her, so that maybe one day someone else would come to think those clothes were their favorites on her.

So that maybe once day Y/n would have someone for herself, someone to cherish like Caitlin and her had always cherished each other.

And then Caitlin (and Frost) knew exactly what she had to do, because it wasn’t someone else whom she wished Y/n would love and hold with a tenderness so tender it’d be like holding a newborn babe, it was herself whom she wanted Y/n to see that way, it was her who had loved Y/n with that gentle gracefullness ever since they were young. And it was herself whom she wanted Y/n to love with that gentle gracefullness for the rest of their lives.

Caitlin and Frost were one in the same, but there were things they disagreed on. However what Caitlin was about to do, was a mutual agreement between them both.

Caitlin wanted to be with her best friend, she wanted to be with her for as long as Y/n liked. All she wanted was to rush off and catch Y/n before the date and whisk her away on a plate of ice. But she would wait until afterwards, because Y/n seemed happy when she left earlier. She would talk to her about it after her date, whenever after would be, as for the then and now, Caitlin would go to Y/n’s apartment and get the board games and Netflix and snacks set up for when she would be back.

One of her favorite things to do after going out with someone, which had always been the thing they’d done, was to come to Caitlin’s (or her own) home, watch movies, play games and eat a shitload of junk food.

Caitlin was surprised when she unlocked her door and found Y/n laying on the couch, Barry sitting next to her, and a bunch of Big Belly Burger bags surrounding them.

Y/n turned, leaning against the armrest to peer at Caitlin. Caitlin’s heart nearly broke when she saw the glistening tears on her friends cheeks.

She set down her purse and cautiously walked towards the couch, glancing quizzically at Barry when he stood to leave.

“ Y/n what happened? Why are you back so early? Did something happen? Why are you crying?”

“ No—no Caity nothings happened I just.. I just realized I have something to tell you.”

Y/n looked down, sniffling and waited until after her best friend had sat beside her to talk.

“ Caitlin I—“

“ N/n are you hurt? Take of your blanket, let me see your arms for any bruises—she grasped her face and turned it from side to side— N/n you know how I get worried—“

A soft kiss was planted on Caitlin’s lips, an un-rushed, passion filled kiss.

Y/n let go and smiled tentatively at Caitlin, her finger on the underside of her jaw where she’s pulled Caity’s face closer to her own.

“ That was what I had to tell you.”

Caitlin’s face flushed and Y/n went on to explain, “ Well you see— I was opening the door to Jitters and— and well I walked in and I ended up rushing out because, because well I didn’t really want to go out on a date with anybody per say, anybody but you.”

Caitlin’s face remained unreadable so Y/n went on, “ I called Barry on the way back t—“

“ so why were you crying?”

Caitlin looked depressed in that moment, her eyes were sad and the corners of her mouth were turned down, she reached her arm in front of her to wipe a single tear away and off of her cheek.

“ Because, well I didn’t think you wanted to go on a date with me is all.”

The smile on her face was meek, the smile a child would wear had they been caught stealing cookies.

She reached out and wiped the tear from Caitlin’s eye.

“ there’s no reason to cry my love.”

Laughter, light and bubbly, came from Caitlin’s mouth and she popped her arms around Y/n’s neck, pulling her in for a kiss. One last kiss.

One last kiss. It would be all that she would take.

Turns out, Caitlin didn’t really want to stop at the last kiss. So it was no surprise when morning came and there was the smell of food wafting through the bedroom door, it didn’t take her by surprise at all. After all, it had been a late night.

———————————————————————-

Drink some water, Eat some food and Remember You Are Loved!

^-^

#caitlin snow #killer frost #cisco ramon #barry allen #caitlin snow x reader #the flash #the cw flash

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tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar · 4 years ago

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Too Late | JJ Maybank

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: When JJ friends figures out what he wants, it's too late for him to have it.

Warnings: Underage drinking, drunk and driving, car cash, death, cursing.

Note: THIS IS VERY ANGST. This is somewhat mostly based on Sarah point of view since I wanted to talk about how she might be dating John B, doesn't mean she knows JJ unlike the others, you know? This idea came to me at 1am while listening to Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol and still not being over reading 'Bury A Friend' by @pogue-writings. I don't know what else to say besides I hope you love it and feedback is very welcome.

─────

Kiara, Pope and John B are used to it. But Sarah? She isn't. She doesn't understand why or how they don't check on their friend. JJ hasn't shown his face in two days.

"He will say everything is fine if you ask."

"He won't tell you what happened."

"Don't bring up the bruises or cuts." John B says and she wonders out loud, "How do you his dad hurt him again?"

Pope takes a big sigh, "JJ does this everytime it does. He blocks us out. Then when he shows up, he acts like evening is fine and nothing happened."

"He doesn't like us going to his house." Kiara doesn't say home, Sarah notice. "But we can go if his dad isn't there."

Sarah only knows pits and pieces about his father. Like his name and is a drunk, does drug deals with Barry, and how he beats his own son. John B makes sure he doesn't tell her anything that would get his best friend from third grade and life mad.

She knows her boyfriend cares from him. He doesn't get mad if he finds JJ sleeping on the pull out couch, he wakes him up and tells him to pull his ass to the guest room. They have a special bond. She doesn't want in the middle of it, but she wants to be there for JJ and not as his best friend girlfriend. She- and everyone else who takes the time to notice - knows that he cares about his friends more than himself and see them as a family he got lucky to be apart of. The jokes he comes up with make everyone laugh or shake their - Kiara - heads and tell him to shut up. Drunk, high or even sober, he has so much cracked head energy going through him that he is always a life of a party. She misses him yelling at John B and her to get a room when they're just sitting next to each other. It has only been two days and she misses the blonde idiot. The others don't say it out loud either, but everyone notices when Pope looks beside him when he isn't there, how Kiara doesn't as many side comments as much, and how John B looks down at his phone for a long time.

"Okay,yup, that's it. If he gets mad, just tell him to get mad at me. John B, grab the car keys."

─────

"He's dad truck is gone, so that's a good sign." Pope opens the van door for himself and Kiara to get out.

"Should we knock?" Sarah asks right before John B opens the front door and walks in first. She follows after him. The small of beer is so strong that she feels like her clothes will smell like it. Following him down a hallway, he knocks on what she guesses is JJ's bedroom door.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" She flinch at the tone in his voice from the other side of the closed door. Kiara does too.

"JJ, it's me. Well, me and everyone." John B moves enough to let Pope stand beside him. "Let us in, JJ."

"No- leave me alone!"

"JJ, please." Kiara pleads. Sarah lay a hand her shoulder as she adds, "We just want to make sure you're okay."

The doorknob turning is what they get in response; they take it as a small win and walk in.

It's not how a normally messy teenage boy room should look like it. It's worse.

It look like a hurricane came in his bedroom. His bed is a mess, blankets, sheets, and pillows thrown at every direction. The walls are now bare, the posters ripped and the pieces are on top of the clothes from his closet and dresser- two drawers- that got thrown. His small desk is cleared off, everything on the floor.

JJ is standing right in the middle of it all, arms out. "I was in the middle of redecorating." A dry laugh gets caught in his throat.

Kiara trips over things as she rushes over to him but stops when he jumps back.

Sarah puts a hand over hear beating heart when John B let's out a broken, "JJ? What the hell happened?" He gets closer to him than Kiara did. She's trembling slightly, a hand covering her mouth.

Pope slowly moves to stand near John B. He gulbs. His friends cheecks are sallow, eyes red with dark circles underneath. "Talk to us,JJ."

"I-I just did," he mutters.

Sarah steps up towards. "Whatever it is, I'm sure we can help-"

"NO! YOU CAN'T HELP ME! NO ONE CAN HELP ME!" His voice echos and no one say or move. "It's too late! I can't- I can't fix it! She's gone and I-fuck!" He tugs on his hair and his shoulders are moving up and down with his heavy breathing.

"She?"

This isn't about this his dad? Then who is it-

Sarah remembers what happened two days ago and it makes her own breathing getting heavier. How did she not figure it out sooner?

JJ, Pope, John B and Sarah decided to hangout at The Wreck while Kiara was working. Pope was trying to get JJ to stop throwing French Fries at him by throwing them right back. John B was smiling at his friends with a arm on the back of Sarah's chair. She stopped drinking her shake when she saw Kiara walking up to them, looking like she just saw a ghost.

"Kie? What's wrong?" JJ stands up and walk over to her, putting her at arm reach to see if he can see if he got psychical hurt.

"My dad, he just told me that he was happy that we are all okay and when I asked him why- he told me that there was a car accident last night? The driver, Blake made it luckily but barely but Y/N-" She doesn't need to say the rest.

Kiara legs give out on her as she cries, pulling on the matching homemade friendship bracelet. She was supposed to meet up with her later at the beach for their weekly clean up. She always brings her Bluetooth speakers and plays songs she reccomends.

"Oh my god," John B is frozen in his chair. He knows her from school. They have the same consular and when they find themselves in the waiting area at the same time, they talk about everything else but why they're there. It always makes him nerves calm down.

"Are you sure?" Pope asks, voice cracking. He just talked to her a couple of days again, giving her tips on how to dress and talk for her own scharoship interview. He told her to be just herself and she laughed and said, "no one can handle that."

Sarah never really had a real conversation with her besides the one time in a bathroom one year during Midsummer. She was sitting on the counter, scrolling through her phone. When she laughed out loud, Sarah thought she was probably laughing at her. "What? No! I'm laughing at this meme, look!" They spent the next hour sitting on the counter.

JJ kicks the door of The Wreck open before storming off.

"JJ, are you talking about-"

"No. Don't say it. Not say her name. Don't." His finger shakes rapidly as he points at Sarah, glaring at her as tears steam down his face.

"How could he so fucking stupid? He got behind the wheel drunk! He knew he was drunk still let her get in the car with him! Did you know they were only a couple of miles away from her home? Yeah, he drove right into one of her neighbors front yard and their tree." He wails as he falls on his knees.

"I should've gone. She even asked me if I wanted to come with but I said no and called her crazy to think I would go to a Kooks party. But I would've- I would've gone with her if I wasn't nervous! I- I was thinking on how to tell her when she texted me. Now I'll never be able to tell her I loved her."

Saying 'loved' instead of 'love' out loud for the first time is what breaks him and everyone else.

Kiara let's out a wet hiccup and pulls him close, his face on her chest as she puts her chin on top of his head. His fist gets covered by Pope' hand, holding on tight as he sits next to them.

John B curses under his breath and makes a metal note in his head to never ever take his best friend for granted ever again. He knew. He knew about JJ silly school girl like crush on her and even told him to ask her out and hyped him up. Somehow he stupidity forgot, too busy in his own grief. He thought that when JJ ran away and never came back, his dad probably did something.

"I can't act like everything is fine and nothing happened!"

John B wraps his arms around the others and whispers, "I'm so sorry, JJ. We're here. It's okay, let it out. We got you buddy." Over and over again.

Sarah joins the group hug and swears to herself for now on, JJ must be protected at all costs.

When they all get back The Chateau, they all grab the bags and boxes they filled up with JJ things.

"Thank you." It's soft and quiet, but she heard it and gives him a small smile.

"Anytime, JJ."

─────

Tagging the amazing people who normally likes the other stuff that I write (don't be offended if I didn't tag or did tag you) @skatespitfire @sadserenadex @sexualparkour @jenahbell @snkkat @perfektionsmakel @boobear729 @latenitewolves @kiarasflowr @afterglowsb-tch13 @baby3456 @pixelated-pogues @immbabyyygracieee @afrikitten @ckline35 @i-want-to-eat-all-the-fries @katerosexx @maybanksbaby @nawels @lolepiclydabs @harrysbbby @tomhardybby

#jj outer banks #jj imagine #jj maybank #jj outer banks imagine #jj one shot #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #jj x reader #jj x you #jj x y/n

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aaliyah-babe · 4 years ago

Text

Pilot: Part One

Pairing: eventual joey x reader

authors note: i do not own anything from friends, all credit goes to their respective owners. feedback is always appreciated.

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together!

the group of five sat in the coffee house, monica and pheobe on the long sofa with chandler on the arm of it, and then joey and y/n sitting on the chairs next to it, as monica explained her ‘not a date’ date,

“there’s nothing to tell! he’s just some guy i work with,” she explained,

“come on. you’re going out with the guy, there’s gotta be something wrong with him,” joey pushed her to tell him, which made y/n hit him on the back of his head,

“now, now, joseph. play nice,” she warned before turning to monica, “does he have twelve fingers?” she joked,

“so does he have a hump? a hump and a hairpiece?” chandler joked which made everyone laugh at his comment.

“wait, does he eat chalk?” pheobe asked, which made everyone stare at her in confusion, once she noticed the stares she explained her question, “just ‘cause i don’t want her to go through what i went through with carl- oh,” she sighed at the memory.

“okay, everybody relax. this is not even a date. it’s just two people going out to dinner and not having sex,” she said which made chandler speak up,

“sounds like a date to me,” he said which made everyone nod in agreement,

time had passed and they hadn’t left the coffee house, but moved seats, monica and chandler were still on the couch, pheobe was on the ground, joey was sat on the green chair, and y/n sat on joey’s lap.

“i’m standing in the middle of the cafeteria, and i realise i am totally.... naked,” chandler explained,

“oh yeah,” joey nodded, implying that he’s had that dream,

“i’ve had that dream,” monica laughed,

“then i look down, and there is a phone.... there,” chandler explained further.

“instead of?” joey questioned him,

“that’s right!” chandler yelled, which made everyone shake their heads no this time,

“cant say i’ve had that dream, bing,” y/n sighed,

“all of a sudden, the phone starts to ring. and it turns out it’s my mother, which is very, very weird because, she never calls me!” he said, making everyone laugh a little.

it was a while later and they were still in the coffee house, joey and y/n we’re talking,

“okay so if i win, you have to buy me a cookie,” y/n explained,

“yes, but if i win, you have to buy me a cookie,” he said holding out his hand,

she shook it before replying, “deal!”

“or you two could just eat the cookies chandler bought,” monica motioned to the plate of cookies, y/n and joey shared glances before reaching over and taking one each.

the coffee house doors opened and ross walked in, with a sad look on his face,

“hi,” he said sadly, and joey leant over to y/n,

“this guy says hello i wanna kill myself,” she pushed his head back to ross and the rest of them,

“are you okay, sweetie?” monica asked her brother,

“i just feel like someone reached down my throat, grabbed my small intestine, pulled it out my mouth and wrapped it around my neck,” he said walking over to chandler’s side of the room, where chandler raised his plate of cookies to him,

“cookie?”

“carol moved her stuff out today,” monica explained for ross,

“oh, i’m so sorry honey,” y/n said to him,

“let me get you some coffee,” monica said, getting up,

he thanked her before sitting down, pheobe immediately gasped, and started cleansing ross’s ora,

“no. oh, no. no, don’t!” he yelled at her, making her stop for a second, “stop cleansing my ora,” she continued anyway, “no just leave my ora alone,” making her stop ross said,

“i’ll be fine, all right? really, everyone. i hope she’ll be very happy,” ross lied,

“no you don’t,” monica said from the counter,

“no i don’t. to hell with her she left me,” ross declared,

joey shook his head before asking, “and you never knew she was a lesbian?”

“no. okay? why does everyone keep fixating on that?!” he asked angrily, “she didn’t know, how should i know?”

“sometimes i wish i was a lesbian,” chandler said, still focused on the paper, he looked up before realising, “did i say that out loud?”

“alright ross, look. you’re feeling a lot of pain right now. you’re angry, you’re hurting. can i tell you what the answer is?” joey asked him and he nodded, “strip joints!” he said which made mos of the group roll their eyes. “oh, come on. you’re single. have some hormones!”

“see, but i don’t want to be single, okay? i just, i just, i just wanna be married again,” he stuttered, just as he said those words a woman in a soaked wedding dress ran into the coffee house, frantically looking around.

“and i just want a million dollars!” chandler motioned to the door,

y/n noticed something about the girl, very farmiliar and she saw that monica noticed too, monica looked at y/n, “is that?” and y/n nodded excitedly, her and monica getting up,

“rachel?” they both asked,

“oh god, guys, hi!” she smiled looking at the two, she hugged them both before continuing, “i just went to tour building and you weren’t there and then this guy, with a big hammer told me that you might be here and you guys are! you are,” she hugged them again, before y/n walked back over to the couch couch,

“can i get you some coffee?” the woman behind the counter asked,

“decaf!” monica pointed at rachel before walking her over to the couch,

“okay, everybody this is rachel another lincoln high survivor,” monica introdouced everybody to her before she introdouced ross.

“and you remember my brother ross,” monica said in more of a question tone.

“sure!” she smiled, and held out her hand,

ross got up to shake it but when he did the umberella popped open, invading the space between them, making them jump.

rachel sat down, as if she isn’t wearing a wedding dress,

“so you want to tell us now?” monica asked her,

“or are we waiting for four wet bridesmaids?” y/n laughed a little at her comment.

“oh, god. well, it started about a half an hour before the wedding. i was in this room where we were keeping all the presents, and i was looking at this gravy boat; this really gorgeous limoges gravy boat. when all of a sudden,” she started but the lady walked up with her coffe, “sweet and low?” rachel asked, the woman nodded so rachel continued.

“i realised that i was more turned on by this gravy boat than by barry! and then i got really freaked out and that’s when it hit me; how much barry looks like mr. potato head. you know? i mean, i always knew he looked farmiliar but.. anyway, i just had to get out of there and i started wondering, why am i doing this and who am i doing this for? so anyways i just didn’t know where to go and i know that you, you and i have drifted apart but you guys are the only people i knew that lived here in the city,” she said pointing at y/n then at monica,

“who wasn’t invited to the wedding?” monica asked her and y/n raised her eyebrows,

“oh, i was kind of hoping that would’nt be an issue,” she said.

they decided to head back to the apartment and watch some tv, while rachel was on the phone to her father.

on the tv was a spanish telenovela,

“so i’m guessing that she bought her the big pipe organ, and she’s really not happy about it,” monica guessed,

“daddy, i just. i can’t marry him. i’m sorry, i just don’t love him... well it matters to me!” rachel said to her father over the phone.

there was a woman on the stairs of the show and she was wearing pants that she should not have been wearing,

“oooh, she should not be wearing those pants.” chandler said,

“i say, push her down the stairs,” joey said and everybody started chanting,

“push her down the stairs! push her down the stairs! push her down the stairs!” and when the woman pushed the other woman down the stairs everybody cheered.

“come on daddy listen to me!” rachel said which made monica turn off the tv and everybody turned to her,

“it’s like all of my life, everyone has always told me, your a shoe. you’re a shoe, you’re a shoe, you’re a shoe! and then today i just stopped and said, what if i don’t want to be a shoe? what if i wanted to be a purse? or-or-or a hat?!” rachel frantically said, “no i don’t want you to buy me a hat, i’m saying i am a hat- it’s a metaphor daddy!” she yelled into the phone,

“you can see where you have trouble,” ross said walking back and sitting down next to y/n.

“look daddy, it’s my life. well, maybe i’ll just stay here with monica!” rachel yelled into the phone and everybody turned to monica,

“so i guess we’ve established she’s staying here with monica,” monica said, and everybody turned back to rachel,

“well maybe that’s my decision. well maybe i don’t need your money. wait, wait! i said maybe!” rachel yelled before placing the phone down, her father had hung up on her.

the guys were in the kitchen while the girls sat in the living room with rachel, who had a brown paper bag over her mouth to calm her down,

“okay, just breathe. that’s it,” monica soothed her,

“don’t worry rach, just keep breathing,” y/n told her,

“just try to think of nice calm things,” monica told her,

“raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, doorbells and sleigh bells, and- something with mittens, la la la something with string, these are a few...” pheobe began singing, poorly when rachel cut her off.

“i’m all better now,” rachel told her, making her stop singing and smile,

pheobe turned around and faced the guys, “i helped!” she smiled.

“okay, look, this is probably for the best, you know?” monica asked her, motioning for y/n to help her,

“yeah! independence, taking control of your life,” y/n side-hugged rachel.

“and hey, you need anything you can always come to joey,” joey said, putting his hand on rachel’s shoulder, “me and chandler live right across the hall, and he’s away a lot.”

“joey!” y/n hit him on his arm,

“joey stop hitting on her, it’s her wedding day!” monica reminded him,

“what? like there’s a rule or something?” he said.

the intercon buzzed so chandler checked who it was, “please don’t do that again it’s a horrible sound,”

“uh, it’s-it’s paul!” paul shouted through the speaker,

“buzz him in!” monica told him and he did,

“who’s paul?” joey asked her,

“‘paul the wine guy’ paul?” ross asked from behind her,

“maybe,” monica smirked,

“wait- so this whole time your ‘not a date’ date was with paul the wine guy?!” y/n screeeched excitedly,

“he finally asked you out?” ross asked her,

“yes!” monica exclaimed,

“ooh this is a ‘dear diary’ moment,” chandler joked,

“i can’t believe this!” y/n said excitedly,

“wait- rach, i can cancel,” monica said to rachel,

“please, no, go! i’ll be fine,” rachel insisted and monica turned to ross,

“ross, are you okay? i mean, do you want me to stay?” monica asked him,

“that’d be good,” ross said,

“really?!” monica and y/n said,

“no! go on! it’s paul the wine guy!” ross exclaimed, and right on cue, paul knocked on the door,

she opened it and said, “hi! come in,”

he walked in and everybody stood watching him, “paul, this is... everybody,” monica introdouced,

“everybody this is paul,” monica then turned back to paul,

“paul the wine guy!” everyone yelled,

“i’m sorry, i didn’t catch your name. paul, was it?” chandler asked him,

“sit down, i’ll be two seconds,” monica said running into her room,

y/n, joey and chandler went to sit down with paul,

“so paul, long time no see huh?” joey asked him,

“you’ve never met me before,” paul said making y/n and chandler laugh a little,

“right,” joey said embarrassed,

“so, how’s working in the restaurant?” y/n asked him,

“good, it’s uh, it’s good,” he stuttered,

it went silent and awkward until joey pulled y/n away, leaving chandler on the couch,

“what’s up, joey?” she asked him,

“nothing, just didn’t want to be there for any longer,” he told her, handing her a beer,

they stayed in the kitchen as ross talked to rachel, before chandler joined them,

“anyway, if you don’t feel like being alone tonight, joey and chandler are helping me put together my new furniture,” ross said to rachel,

“yes and we’re very excited about it,” chandler sneered,

“thanks, but i think i’m just going to hang out here tonight, it’s been a long day,” she said walking to the bathroom,

“hey, pheebs? you wanna help?” joey asked her,

“i wish i could but, i don’t want to,” she said which made y/n laugh,

“y/n/n, what about you huh?” joey asked her, squeezing her shoulder,

“meh, okay i guess, but i got to leave early though, because i got these new bath salts i want to try,” she smiled

“can we join you, or...” chandler joked, and she laughed, pushing him away,

it was later on and the guys and y/n had headed off to ross’ apartment, and started putting the furniture together, which was not working out so well,

“i’ve finished with the bedside table,” y/n told ross and everyone looked at her with their mouth open, as they were not close to being finished,

“okay, great! thank you! go take it in that room, please,” ross told her and she nodded, walking into the bedroom, she placed the table next to a bed, probably ross’ bed.

she walked back out, “anyone need any help?” she asked them and instantly, three arms flew into the air,

“okay...” she walked to ross since joey and chandler were working together,

“so what are we doing?” y/n asked him,

“well, i’m supposed to attach a brackety thing to the side things, using a bunch of these little worm guys. i have no brackety thing, i see no worm guys whatsoever, and i can not feel my legs,” he said standing up,

ross walked over to the kitchen and y/n joined chandler and joey,

“what’s this?” y/n picked up a piece that wasn’t on the bookcase,

“i have no idea,” chandler told her, while joey shook his head and shrugged,

joey grabbed it off her and tossed it into the plant pot before shouting, “done with the bookcase!”

ross walked in sadly, holding a canned beer, “this was carol’s favourite beer,” he told them,

they looked at eachother, before looking back at ross, “she always drank it out of the can, i should’ve known,”

“hey! wait a second, i drink out of the can and i’m not a lesbian,” y/n said grabbing her beer, “see, look,”

she took a sip of her beer, from the can, after she finished she turned to joey and grabbed his face, pulling him in for a kiss, the kiss only lasted a few seconds before she pulled back,

“see!” she smiled at joey who was smiling happily at that,

“okay, uh ross, let me ask you a question.” joey started after he stopped smiling, “she got, the furniture. the stereo, the good tv. what did you get?” he asked him,

“you guys,” ross told them,

“you got screwed,” joey replied,

“not a good trade,” y/n said at the same time,

“oh my god!” chandler exclaimed.

“well kiddos, i’m going to head home, take that bath,” she said and saw chandler about to say something so she interrupted him, “alone!”

“let me walk you out,” joey said, walking with her,

they got outside of the apartment and joey closed the door, “well, that was... interesting,” joey smirked,

“oh joey! shut up!” y/n smiled at him,

“i’m just saying, you’re a good kisser!” he smiled at her,

“thank you, you are too,” she said.

joey called a cab and y/n got in it, waving at joey who started walking back to the apartments.

she got back to her apartment which was next to monica and rachel’s, before walking in.

she took her coat off and set it down on the kitchen chairs and got changed in her room, before watching tv.

there was a knock at her door, she got up and turned the tv off, opening the door to reveal rachel, a sad rachel,

“honey, come in,” y/n hugged her and she layed with her on the couch for a bit.

“want to talk about it?” y/n asked her and she shook her head no.

“well i’ve got something that might cheer you up,” y/n said running into her room,

she went into her closet and pulled out a black dress, that she didn’t like on herself, but knew it would suit rachel,

“i’ve had this dress for quite some time now, and it’s not my style, so here, take it,” y/n handed her the dress and rachel thanked her,

“oh it’s beautiful, thank you so much y/n/n!” rachel hugged her greatfully.

it was later on and rachel had went back to her apartment and y/n had decided to go to sleep.

read Part Two here!

#friends #joey tribbiani #rachel green #chandler bing #monica geller #pheobe buffay #ross geller #x reader #friends series

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banshee-cheekbones · 4 years ago

Note

i loved your recent fic about snyder cut!barry allen, would you ever write a shipfic with that barry allen/iris west? their meetcute in the snyder cut was soooo cute

hey nonny! I loved this prompt and took a crack at it! I ended up going with nonbinary Barry again, using they/them pronouns. please enjoy!

also used for the fluff square on my @transbingo card.

~1800 words, on ao3 here.

second chance at a first impression.

At first, when Barry steps into the coffee shop at the edge of campus, they don’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

It’s just a normal coffee shop, part of a chain with two dozen locations spread across the city. Most of the tables are occupied by students, surrounded by textbooks and papers and laptops. While most of the customers are wearing headphones, there’s still a steady murmur of conversation filling the air, weaving perfectly with the lo-fi music playing over the speakers. The place smells absolutely decadent, like fresh roasted beans and sugar and chocolate, and even though they ate a full pizza for breakfast (after going for a quick run to Gotham and back in the hopes of burning off some of the nervous energy fluttering through their body), Barry's stomach still rumbles loudly.

It’s unlikely that eating anything other than the full contents of the glass display case lining the counter is going to have any impact on their hunger, but at the very least, maybe it’ll keep them satiated long enough to keep their stomach from interrupting their first class of the semester.

They get into line, absently glancing down at the time on their phone, only barely aware that there are a handful of people queued up in front of them. They still have half an hour before they have to get to class – plenty of time to get some coffee and enjoy a muffin (or three). Realistically, it could be a minute before class and they’d still have time to eat and end up in a front row seat, but they want to avoid using their powers on campus if possible. It’s probably not completely possible to keep their two identities separate, to keep The Flash from bleeding into Barry Allen, college student, but if they don’t try, then they’ll regret it.

They make a note to ask Clark about it, the next time they have a League meeting. They’re closest with Arthur, but seeing as he doesn’t give two shits about his secret identity being known, Barry doesn’t think he’s the best person to consult in this case.

Once they’ve decided on which three muffins to get, they turn their attention to the intimidating drink menu hanging above the counter. By the time they parse through the options and settle on something that sounds packed to the gills with sugar, they’re second in line, and they lower their eyes from the menu just in time for the person standing directly in front of them to turn around.

Barry’s stomach drops to the floor, but this time, it has nothing to do with hunger.

Standing in front of them, eyes wide, mouth partially open, dark curls spiraling away from her face, is the woman. The one that they saved a mere month ago (although, with everything that happened after that, with them resurrecting Clark and saving the world from Steppenwolf and discovering that, if they run enough, they can completely destroy the flow of time, it feels more like a year has passed since that day). The one that Barry has thought about almost every day. The one that they thought they would never see again – Central City may be small compared to Gotham or Metropolis, but it’s still a damn city, big enough that Barry has a hard enough time running into people they actually know, let alone people they’ve encountered for a handful of seconds.

They were long seconds, though. Long enough that Barry noticed how beautiful the woman’s dark eyes were, noticed how the smile that spread across her mouth once she was out of harm’s way lit up her round face, noticed how soft her hair was when they moved it away from her eyes.

They may have been mere seconds, and Barry may not have found out her name, but that hasn’t stopped them from thinking about her.

And now, here she is. Standing right in front of them.

Barry is faintly aware of the barista speaking to them, probably asking them to move forward and order, but for the first time in years, even though their brain is screaming at them to do something, to move, they feel physically rooted to the spot.

They don’t know what the chances of meeting like this are, but they’re sure that, if they asked Vic to run the math, his answer would be something like astronomically low.

They need to move. Not only because they’re holding up the line, but because this has to be weird for the woman. They only had a few seconds together, and Barry would be surprised if she remembers them in any real detail, which means that she’s probably wondering why she’s being openly stared at by some weirdo when she just wanted to get some breakfast.

And yet, despite the energy they can feel flickering through their body, Barry can’t move. They can’t get over the sheer unlikeliness of the situation, can’t stop themselves from flicking from one what-if situation to the next.

If they had decided to skip coffee and a snack, if they had decided to wait until the last minute and then bolt across the city straight to class, if they had been delayed for any reason, then this wouldn’t be happening.

Why is the universe so unfathomably strange?

Just when they think that the only way to move forward is to give into the Speed Force, shoot through the plate glass window at the front of the shop and hope that the crash causes enough of a distraction that everyone in the nearby vicinity forgets that they were there in the first place, the woman speaks.

“It’s you.” Her voice is soft, influenced by the smile curling her mouth, nearly as bright as the gold, silk scarf tied around her neck. She steps away from the line, over to the small counter stocked with sweeteners and lids and stir sticks, and Barry automatically follows her. Even though they're definitely moving, it still feels like they’re walking through molasses, like time hasn’t fallen back to its regular pace yet.

“You remember me?” they ask, still not entirely convinced that this isn’t some wild kind of fever dream or vision. Maybe they lost their concentration on the way to campus and got mowed down by a truck, and this is a last gift from their brain to make up for the whole dying thing.

If that’s the case, it might be the nicest gift Barry has ever received.

The woman nods. “I do. You saved my life.”

She’s right – Barry may be full of self-deprecation, but even they know that their abilities are the only thing that saved her from certain death. But still, hearing her say it so frankly, so gratefully, makes them feel off-balance, like the world is tilting right underneath their normally so sure feet.

“I was just in the right place at the right time,” they manage to stammer, seizing one of the pronoun pins decorating the front of their black denim jacket and twisting it back and forth, trying to keep their fingers moving at normal human speed. It’s a poor substitution for running, but for the time being, it’ll have to do. “Sorry I couldn’t save your car. It, um, looked like a nice one. I think. I don’t really know much about cars.” Instinctively, they wince at their own words – it may be a true statement (they've never been a car person, even before they gained their powers), but still, it being the truth doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.

Thankfully, the woman just shrugs.

“It was a nice car. But that’s what insurance is for. I have a better one now.” She waves out the window at a yellow convertible, long and blocky and definitely older than Barry is, parked outside the shop, before she says, “I looked for you, afterwards.” As someone approaches the counter, she takes a step forward, so that she’s out of their way. It puts her close enough to Barry that they can smell her citrus perfume, see the flecks of gold glitter mixed into her burgundy eye shadow. “I wanted to thank you. But it was like you disappeared into thin air.”

Close enough, Barry thinks.

“Sorry about that. I… I had to run.” It’s a lame excuse, but it’s not an entirely inaccurate one - they had unfinished business with the dog groomer after all.

(Even if their business didn’t end with a job offer, they got to feed the dogs some sausage from the vendor whose cart got destroyed, which was, frankly, almost as good as landing a job.)

“Well, it’s not too late.” The woman’s full lips turn up into another smile. “Could I buy you a drink? If you have time, I mean. I don’t want to keep you if there’s somewhere you need to be.”

Barry’s heart stutters as they glance at the clock behind the barista counter and confirm that there’s still plenty of time until they’re supposed to get to class. Not that it matters, really - even if they’re late, it’s only the first class. They probably aren’t going to miss anything more exciting than the instructor reading through the syllabus, which is something they can do later (not to mention faster.

They don’t intend on slacking off on their degree – they want to make their dad proud – but they’re pretty sure that the universe has given them a pass for today.

“Okay,” they say, feeling their own lips curl up into a smile that mirrors her. “Yeah, I’d, um, I’d really like that.”

“Me too,” she replies. Waving at the lineup, she says, “After you.”

The line has grown while they were talking, reaches almost all the way to the entrance now, but Barry is more than happy to wait – not only because they’ve completely forgotten what drink they planned on ordering and need to look at the menu again, but also because it means they get to spend a few more minutes with the woman.

Whose name they still don’t know.

“Hey,” they say, looking away from the menu, all thoughts of coffee forgotten for the time being. She’s a few inches shorter than they are, and when she tilts her head up to look at them, they lose their train of thought for a few seconds. Thankfully, they’re able to snatch the train before it completely leaves the station and ask, “What’s your name?”

“Iris.” She shifts her coffee and the bag containing a muffin into one hand and holds out the other. “And you?”

“Barry.” They take her hand and quickly shake it, trying not to notice how soft her skin is, how glossy her deep orange nail polish is.

“It’s nice to properly meet you.” Fingers trailing across their palm as she lets go, she says, with a teasing glint in her eyes, “Don’t run off on me again. Not before I can buy you a coffee at least.”

“Don’t worry,” they reply. Their stomach is fluttering again, but this time, it’s less from hunger and more from the butterflies swarming through it, butterflies that aren’t going to go away anytime soon. “I won’t.”

#transbingo #barry x iris #dc fanfiction #justice league fanfiction #mine #mine: fic #thank you so much for this prompt!

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callmeelle22 · 4 years ago

Text

Snow

Gifted to @dameintoyland for the Flash Holiday Gift Exchange @theflashholidaysgiftexchange

Pairing: Barry Allen x Iris West

Word Count: 5912

Rating: M

Summary: Softly falling snow, spiked hot chocolate, and some light smut for the holiday season.

I want a snowfall kind of love, the kind of love that quiets the world.

When the snow starts, Barry recognizes how ridiculous it was to decide to walk to the store in the middle of the night. But, in the end, he’s sure it had been worth it.

It’d been because of a mere case of insomnia, that and the gnawing need for sustenance. A look into his refrigerator had revealed only a carton of expired eggs, an empty jug of orange juice, and a ridiculous amount of condiment bottles, so he’d stuffed his socked feet into a pair of sneakers, zipped himself into a coat, and jammed a beanie on top of his head before he’d ventured out into the cold.

When the snow starts, he’s only a few minutes into the fifteen minute walk to the grocery store. His collar is pulled up and his hands are stuffed into the pockets of his sweatpants as he takes cursory glances at the world around him. The snow is just flurries, tiny drops that appear more like rain before it hits the ground, but Barry knows how picturesque this place will look when the snow gets going in earnest. The little neighborhood he lives in, one they’re calling the arts district, is filled with tiny shops owned by rich women and their Etsy jewelry, restaurants where the food speaks, murals painted on every single building that depicts a sort of effortless diversity that isn’t actually true for the area. That’s even more notable when he looks at all of the Christmas decorations in the windows of the shops, sparkling garland wrapped around every available column, bright green wreaths chock-full of shiny gold ornaments, brilliant red bows on door handles and lamp posts. It’s all been up, much to Barry’s chagrin, since the season apparently started on November 1st, and it’s why he’s survived on work, take-out, and The West Wing since.

He curses his own absurdity as he enters the small grocery store and picks up an arm cart with a half frozen hand. The store is one of those small ones, the ones that sell mostly single serving portions at regular prices, the store’s bright lights and gleaming floors convincing customers it’s worth paying five dollars for a half a carton of eggs. They’ve been bit by the Christmas bug too, a song he doesn’t know, I want a snowfall kind of love, that lights up the sky from below; I want a snowfall kind of love, that brings people to their window, playing in the background. They’ve managed to plop a tree smack dab in the middle of the store and the aisles are full of what he’s sure the manager thinks are only subtle odes to this godforsaken holiday.

He tries to be quick, to hurry home before he has to start sliding through the snow. He throws a loaf of bread into his cart, some cheese and eggs, packages of bacon and deli ham. He remembers that they’ve got a pretty decent frozen pizza section too, so he grabs a couple of those, trying not to focus on the fact that he’s 27 and lonely and still eating like he did when he was in undergrad—and let’s be honest, in grad school too. He rounds another corner to decide on a six-pack, or two, of beer. And that’s when he sees her.

She’s a petite thing, shorter than she normally looks when Barry sees her hightailing it from the apartment across from his, in pencil skirts and shoes with heels like spikes. Her hair usually falls straight against her shoulder blades, soft looking and shiny, and he’s only ever seen her mouth painted in shades of purple and red. Tonight, this morning, she’s as dressed down as he’s ever seen her. She's only in a pair of gray leggings, a tight white t-shirt that cups her firm chest, a faux fur-lined coat thrown over it. Her hair is in a curly wavy style that falls right at her shoulders, and he likes it, how soft and sweet it makes her look.

When he sees her in the mornings, as she’s leaving their building, it makes him a little tongue-tied, especially when she’s in those tucked in blouses that show off the deep curve of her waist. The look of her like this, though, makes Barry wonder what it feels like to have heart palpitations and if he’s having them.

He’s watching her, probably a little creepily, and so when she turns, she catches her eyes. Now, Barry really can’t breathe. Her face is improbably pretty: deep ochre skin, dark chocolate eyes, a full pouty mouth that calls for his attention as she bites at the bottom one. He thinks, for a moment, of what it might be like to be beside her, naked, her lovely brown skin next to his paler body, her small, soft hands laced in his. He wonders, in the same moment, what it might be like to kiss her—her mouth, the soft heat between her legs—her long-lashed eyes closed in ecstasy. It paints a pretty vivid picture and Barry is sure he loses a bit of time.

“Oh, I know you,” she says, a hint of passion in her voice.

Barry blinks, looks behind him at the freezer full of overpriced beer, and then back to where there’s more than a hint of a smirk on her face.

“You mean me?”

“Yeah. You’re the one with the lab coat.”

Barry would like to note that as long as she’s been living across from him, a few months now, he’s been hoping for glimpses of her each time he’s left his own apartment. It’s a bit astonishing to know that she’s noticed him too.

“I, uh, yeah,” he mumbles, reaching up the rub at the back of his head. “I, I wear a lab coat.”

“Nice,” she says, and there’s some honey in the way she says the word, the way it drips down off her tongue.

Barry tilts his head, a bit incredulous. “Lab coats get you off?”

It isn’t what he meant to say, but her grin gets wider and there’s no doubt that Barry’s face goes bright red.

“I didn’t mean…” he starts, but the words get stuck.

She doesn’t seem offended. If anything, her grin gets wider, turns dirtier, and she winks at him as she starts to push her cart away. “See ya, lab coat.

“Wait,” he calls, and she turns, neatly shaped eyebrows raised.

“It's, uh, it's Barry, Barry Allen," he manages to get out.

“I'm Iris West," she tells him. And then she—and Barry admits he could be hallucinating, admits that he might be high off the scent of her, of shea and coconut—gives him a slow, long look over, taking in the length of his legs and his slim torso, his broad shoulders. She lingers, in a few places he’s sure, at his crotch and somewhere around his throat, and then she's looking at his face again. She licks her lips. "I'll see you around, Barry Allen."

That should be it, Barry thinks, as she leaves the aisle and he presses as much of himself against the cold freezer glass as he can. Good lord. But then Barry pays for his food with the scowling person they’ve convinced to work the night shift at a 24 hour grocery store, and then he’s walking out of the store, clutching his purchases, prepared to make his way back home. And then Iris West is calling out for him, her car idling at the corner beside him.

“Just taking a late night stroll?” she wonders.

He licks at his lips where they've suddenly gone dry. "Yeah. I got hungry and there wasn't any food in my apartment."

“So you thought a quick walk in the snow would do it?"

Were it anyone else, he thinks he might have been annoyed at her for goading him. But she's pretty and he likes the way her dark eyes sparkle with mirth, and something a bit deeper, darker, when she looks at him.

“I feel like you're judging me," he says, his own mouth quirking up.

“Of course I am." She pauses as she turns back into the car. She seems to be moving things around. “Get in, Barry Allen."

They don’t make much conversation on the short ride to their apartment building. The night is quiet on the empty streets, made quieter by the radio turned off and only the hum of the heater as noise. He wants to talk, but he doesn’t know what to say, or if she even wants to speak, so he let’s the ride soothe him. It reminds him of time spent with his parents, years ago. He’d always had trouble sleeping, a condition that has no true origins. But, sometimes, when he couldn’t get to sleep and he’d started to get grumpy because of it, his parents would bundle him up, sit him in the back of the car, and drive around until easy listening jazz and soft falling snow had lulled him to sleep. It’s one of many memories of his family, of the parents he’d lost when he’d been old enough to register their absence. He tries to keep them at bay, those memories that could turn overwhelming and crippling were he to let it.

Christmas doesn’t help. They’d been big Christmas people, spending the Friday after Thanksgiving picking out a tree and dusting off ornaments that had been sitting in the attic for the year, baking cookies as they let him throw tinsel everywhere. The last year he'd had with them, when he was seven years old and had just begun wearing those hideous coke-bottle top glasses, had been the biggest one yet. He'd been allowed to do more: actually pick the Christmas tree, carefully put the cookies in the oven, write out the full thank you for Santa Claus. It'd all been so exhilarating, until the day after Christmas, when date night had turned into a crushed car and stoic police officers and a bull faced woman who'd made him throw clothes in a duffle bag he hadn't owned; when he’d been stuck with the reality that the last time he would ever see his parents was through the window of his old house, Christmas lights blinking back at him.

“Hey, we’re here."

It’s only when she speaks that Barry notices they’ve stopped and she’s parked in one of the spots designated for their building. He looks at her, blinking back into the present. He answers the question written all over her face.

“Oh, yes. I'm," he shakes his head, trying to clear it. He swallows. "Yeah, I'm good."

This time, the smile she gives him is kind.

“Sure?"

“Yeah." He rubs at his eyes. "Let's get inside before the snow starts falling more."

Later, Barry will give half a thought to what makes Iris West invite him into her apartment. They both schlep up the stairs to their third floor apartments, bags in hand, Barry trying not to wish her coat would rise a little higher as he follows behind her. He grabs his key from the pocket of his sweatpants, poised with a hand at the door, and when he turns to tell her good night, she’s staring back at him, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. If he didn’t know any better, he might think she was nervous.

“Chances you’d want to come in?” she blurts, “for some hot chocolate?”

Barry has two choices here. He can say thank you and go into his apartment, where the snow will still be falling and he’ll drink at least two of the beers he bought, and he’ll think about what he and his parents might’ve been doing for this Christmas holiday. Or he can go into the apartment of the woman he’s been drooling after for months and share some hot chocolate.

So really, there’s no choice at all.

************

The clock on Iris’s microwave reads 1:15 when he finds himself standing beside her stove.

When they’d first come into the apartment, she’d left him awkwardly at the door while she’d gone to change. He’d kicked off his shoes at the door, placed his coat on one of the hooks near her door, and then he’d taken a casual glance around the room. Her apartment has the same layout as his, an open floor plan with a large living room and nice sized kitchen, a large island separating the two rooms in lieu of a dining area. A hallway off the living room leads to two bedrooms and a separate bathroom. That is where the similarities end, though. Her place is cozy, the living room featuring an overstuffed couch in a robin's blue fabric and a cream colored loveseat. A large rug under a distressed cream coffee table in a swirling pattern of blues and golds and greens ties it all together. It's a far cry from the hand me down-albeit comfortable-sectional that takes up most of his living area and the hardwood floors he hadn't bothered to cover when he realized that any decent rug cost his grocery bill for a couple weeks.

Even more is the fact that it's decorated for Christmas. There's a neat tree in the corner, teeming with shiny ornaments and blue garland and strings of white lights. There's some gold and silver tinsel thrown artfully in a way that Barry would never be able to manage, and even his cold, anti-Christmas heart can admit that with the giant blue, gold, and cream bow at the top, the tree is beautiful. Other knick knacks find their places around the room: two stockings on her mantle, a few blue bows tied on various pieces of furniture, an intricate figurine of a black Santa Claus. He’d thought that he should have figured her for a Christmas person.

When she'd come back, it’d been confirmed. She'd thrown on a pajama short set, the top with buttons and a collar, the bottoms showing the expanse of legs that look too long for her short stature, all of it in candy cane stripes. Barry doesn't always love the symbols of Christmas, especially those that remind him too much of the last one he had with his parents, but nothing in Barry's body objected to seeing her walking out like that, not even the reindeer socks covering her feet and ankles. He's glad that he'd showered and thrown on clean clothes after his Netflix binge.

Now, he stands beside her as she whisks cocoa powder into a large saucepan full of milk and sugar. Her kitchen is neat and clean, with bright yellow accessories and framed quotes that claim her love of coffee.

“Did you ever make cocoa with your parents?”

He glances down at his socked feet, and then over at her. She's still whisking, her small hands and nude nails gently gripping the base of the whisk. His heart clenches at the question, but when she starts speaking without his answer, he thinks maybe it expands, just a little bit.

“My grandma swore by homemade hot chocolate. Homemade everything, really. She'd only ever make it in December and only on Sunday nights. It was a thing to look forward to, I guess, a sort of tradition.”

“Does she still make it every Sunday in December?”

She shakes her head, her answering smile only a touch sad. "No. She died when I was 15."

Barry wonders how she does it, says the words without the pain of death overtaking her, without the memory of drinking hot cocoa with her grandmother sending her running away from milk and chocolate and sugar.

“I,” he says, and decides that this must be the way people feel when he used to tell them about his own parents, full of pity and sympathy. “I’m really sorry, Iris.”

“Thanks. She was ready to go, so I think I made peace with it early on."

Barry stays leaned against the counter as he watches her, the stirring methodical, an easy, constant clockwise motion. “Did your grandmother teach you how to make anything else?”

“She tried,” Iris tells him, laughing up at him. “But it never took. I am woefully inadequate in the kitchen.”

There’s something about a woman like Iris, beautiful and seemingly kind, that intimidates him. She seems so self assured, so well-adjusted, that he seems too good for him, like he’d only manage to bring her down into the depths of his own grief if he wasn’t careful.

“Can you cook?” She wants to know.

He shakes his head. “I literally just bought frozen pizza and eggs.”

“Good.” She gives him a sharp nod. “If you could cook on top of being this cute, I’m not sure I’d let you leave this apartment.”

Barry leans down and catches her eyes. “I could learn, if you wanted me to.”

Iris hums, holding his eyes, and hers flash, white teeth biting into her bottom lip. It feels like heat, swirling around them, taking over, settling in the middle of the kitchen. It feels tight, his entire body, the result of a strange mix of swirling thoughts and deep-rooted emotions. There’s the underlying feel of heartache, a steady companion since his childhood. The loneliness that usually accompanies has taken a backseat to the growing lust flooding his system, the tightening of his chest and the tingling in his hands he gets when he looks at her. He isn’t normally a flirt, is normally a fumbling mess when he gets around beautiful women. But it’s her, this woman, that makes him feel a touch bolder, a touch daring, a bit more like he would be if he didn’t live so much in his head.

“It’s time for chocolate chips,” she announces, and it’s the only warning Barry gets before she’s suddenly pressed against him. In reality, it’s quick, he knows it is. She merely reaches over him to grab a package of chocolate chips from the cupboard above his head. But god, if the world doesn’t stop moving as he feels the full length of her, supple thighs flush against the hardness of his, her flat belly and firm breasts almost molded to him. The smell of her is overpowering, the coconut and shea butter, the cocoa powder she’d stirred into the milk.

Barry swallows as she steps back into her own space. He would think that the moment would be gone, that her dropping those chocolate chips into the pan and stirring them to melt them faster would calm him down. It doesn’t.

It’s there, festering, as she finishes the hot chocolate, pouring the sweet drinks into giant mugs and topping them with a bit of Bailey’s. That earns him a wink, the gesture even more potent than the boozy cream he’s drinking on a mostly empty stomach. He follows her to her living room, where she sits down on the couch and motions for him to do the same. She grabs a blanket from the top of the couch and spreads it out with one hand, placing it over her lap and his, closing the distance between them just a little. He sits with his back fully against the sofa, but she’s cross-legged facing him, her attention on him intense. The room adds to it all, the Christmas tree providing the only light in the room, the small white lights casting shadows across her face. It doesn’t help, or it doesn’t hurt rather, this smooth setting. It brings it all to the forefront, the lust flowing as easily through his veins as the blood tends to do.

The following order of events he’ll give more than half a thought. He’ll question, but certainly not complain about, how they go from talking to falling against her bed, naked and twisted in her sheets.

The questions start innocently enough: how old are you? What’s your career? What are your hobbies? He finds that she’s 28 to his 27, a journalist to his research scientist, loves hiking to his personal science experiments. It’s almost like a date, the way they laugh with each other over their mugs, the spiked chocolate the invitation they need to go deeper than he imagines either of them would on a first date, to bare secrets he’d probably never speak aloud.

He learns that she’s been watching him, waiting for a chance to speak to him, except the combination of her rushing and his own grumpy morning face kept her from reaching out. He tells her that the feeling was mutual, that he’d had improper thoughts of her after seeing her in those skirts, that he’d figured she’d never go for a guy like him so he’d just kept his distance. This takes them into deeper, dirtier waters. She wants to know his type, and he tells her, between warming sips of chocolate, that “I didn’t know, until recently, my love for women with deep brown skin and wide set eyes, and a mouth I want to sink into.” It’s the Bailey’s, he knows, but it’s her too, and him when he’s with her, and he likes the way the words tumble from his mouth, the way she pulls the words from him.

If she were lighter, he figures there might be a touch of red at her cheeks, but she only looks down for a brief moment, a long pink tongue swiping over that bottom lip, and he watches as much as hears her say, “I always wonder if those moles are just on your face, at your throat, or if they’re everywhere else,” and Barry swallows at how her eyes drop down, as if she can see beneath his t-shirt where more moles are peppered, as if she can tell that they’re dotted on his thighs too, right around where he’s slowly growing thick and hard.

It’s after this revelation, that the tides turn.

He watches her, for signs that this isn’t just the talking of strangers drunk of chocolate and each other. There is the rise and fall of her chest, the parted lips, her eyes that keep caressing the length of him. There is her leaning towards him, her body titled enough that he can look down the front of her top, where the mounds of her breasts are free, calling for his teeth and tongue. He swallows the rest of his drink and sits the mug down on her coffee table. Iris’s moves are similar, yet more deliberate. Barry finds himself enamored by the column of her throat as she drinks, by her nude brown nails as she wipes the excess from her mouth. She stands, her shorts riding high up on her hips, and time slows again as she plops her mug down and then comes to stand in front of him. He sits back, so that he can see all of her, until she’s sliding into his lap, and then he can really see all of her, just in the curve of her smile. And then she kisses him.

The taste of her is unbelievable, like the cream she’s been drinking and like something else warmer, something else sweeter. It’s been months since he’s kissed anyone, and the times had been few and far between before, but Barry knows that nothing has ever, could ever, compare to the feeling of kissing Iris West. She’s so soft on top of him, so much warmer than he would have thought, and he’s so overwhelmed with the feel of her, that he doesn’t know what to do outside of kissing her.

Iris takes the lead. She grips both of his hands in hers, placing one at her waist and the other at her hip, and then she sinks her fingers into his hair. The kiss turns deeper, the slide of her mouth against his, the slip of her tongue between his lips, the soft clash of teeth as they figure each other out. He tries to learn her, to adjust. She likes when he nips at her bottom lip, when he brings into his mouth to suck, so he takes advantage of that, swallowing the sounds of her moans. He likes the way her fingers tip down his throat, her nails lightly digging into his skin.

It is the sort of kiss that is written about, odes to the shape of her lips, sonnets that praise the taste of her tongue. There are songs, made for nights like this, for faint lights. and warm hands and hearts pounding. If he had the ability, he would pen poems about her, about her thick thighs spread over his lap and the heat of her body he swears he can feel through the fabric of their clothes.

She pulls back, her lids lowered, those chocolate eyes more black than brown now. She licks her lips again, as she watches him, as if chasing the taste of him, and Barry groans low in his throat. Her response is to smile at him, easy and seductive.

“Want to go into my bedroom?”

Barry’s hands tighten on her hips. “I want to go anywhere with you.”

It becomes, Barry decides, the best night of his life. She climbs off of him, and takes his hand, pulling him down the hall. He only takes enough of a glance around to know that the blues and the yellows and golds extend to this room too, accents to the soft white comforter over her queen sized bed. He sees the matching dresser and bookshelf, and it’s all pieces of her that Barry hopes he gets to explore.

She instructs him to take his clothes off, and he does, peeling off his shirt, his sweatpants, his boxers and socks too. Her clothes come off in quick and elegant movements, and Barry laments not being able to stare at her for longer, at the even, deep brown skin and the full breasts hanging heavy, her nipples like the perfect pieces of chocolate chips she’d melted earlier. Her belly is flat, hips round, calves shapely, and the look of her warms him from the inside.

He has very little control, and he happily gives it up, falling onto his back when she pushes him down and crawls atop him again. She uses the sharp tips of her nails and the wide flat of her tongue to trace constellations into his skin, to connect the dots across his chest, the dots at the slight v of his hips; to stamp her name on the imperfections marring the skin of his thighs. It’s a heady feeling, only multiplied when Iris takes the length of him into her hand and then into her mouth. His head drops back onto the pillow, her mouth warm and wet. She takes as much of him as she can and then she pulls back to the tip. She gathers the spit in her mouth, letting it drip down his dick, and then she’s sucking him with purpose, her hands sliding up and down where her mouth can’t reach, the suction of her lips glorious. She swallows him down, the slight gag when he hits the back of her throat releasing something primal in him.

“Fuck, Iris,” he says and it’s something more like a growl, the feel of her indescribable. She hums around him, and then pulls away with a pop, giving her attention to his swollen, aching testicles. He lets her suck him until his breathing grows labored, and then he’s pulling gently at her curly hair, stuttering, “want, want to come in you.”

She stays on her knees in front of him, for moments longer, and then she smiles, the sultry one she’d thrown at him in the grocery store, the one she’d thrown him in the kitchen, the smile that’s got him in her bedroom.

“It’s insane how beautiful you are,” he tells her, and he likes the way it makes her body flush, a red tinge to her skin. He motions for her now, and she crawls back up, settling her crotch over him. He notes the warmth of her pussy on his belly, and it makes his own grin a touch sordid.

“Is this because of me?” He finds himself asking. “Did sucking me off get you wet?”

Her eyes flutter closed briefly.

“I like it,” she says, “when you say these dirty things I’m not expecting.”

“It’s only because of you,” he says, and then he curls his finger around her neck and brings her down to kiss him.

This kiss is wet, open-mouthed, filthy. Barry wonders how he got here, how a short walk in the snow led to this gorgeous person writhing atop him, mumbling increasingly coarse things in his ear. He touches her where he can: fingers tipping down her spine and over her hips; hands kneading her breasts, pinching gently at the hardened peaks of her nipples; thumbing her swollen clit until the wet of her is dripping down her thighs.

Then Barry flips her over, under the insatiable need to have her spread out beneath him, and he watches her tiny hands cover the length of him with a condom.

When he’s finally inside of her, Barry swears that, when she kicks him out of her bed, he’ll do everything in his power to be worthy of her. As her thighs clamp at his hips and he swivels them until he’s buried all the way inside her, he vows to work to be enough for her, and for him too.

She’s so wet, as he rocks into her, and he tells her so, murmuring into her ear, “god, you’re so wet, baby; you feel so good around me.” She talks back, as she digs her nails into his skin enough to leave scars. “I, I never,” she whispers, her voice is soft like white falling snow and sweet like warm, melting chocolate. “I never guessed you’d feel like this.”

She milks him, gripping him in her heat, clenching around him as pulls out, letting her wetness flood him when he pushes back in. Their rhythm is steady, rocking and sliding, rocking and sliding. He holds onto her thigh, hiking it over his hip, and he tangles his hands in her hair enough to hold her steady, enough to take her mouth again. His mouth is gentler on her, mimicking the slide of his body. This feels deeper somehow, their bodies so close he’s touching every single part of her. She pulls away only enough to gasp against his mouth, “damn, Barry Allen,” falling off against his lips, followed by a laugh that turns into a low, slow “ffffuuuucccckkkk.”

When he comes, it’s at the same time that she’s clenching around his dick, their bodies slick with sweat. He falls on top of her, and their breathing mellows out. Eventually, he tries to move away from her, but she holds him there, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face into his neck.

“You okay?” he whispers.

He feels her nod against him. “Perfect.”

************

She doesn’t kick him out after.

Instead, they clean up and then she asks Alexa to play a song, I want a snowfall kind of love, the kind that keeps you in bed all day; oh I want to walk through with you, and watch it all melt away, and she curls into him, her naked breasts pressing against his side, her leg thrown over his thigh. He’s in the space between exhaustion and awareness, his eyes heavy lidded as he comes back down from the high that was being inside Iris West.

There’s a sort of ambiance to the room now, one that makes this all seem more romantic and intimate than he knows what to do with. The blinds are open to the wall length windows that make these apartments worth it, and the night is dark, any stars in the navy blue blanket overshadowed by the softly falling snow. The flakes are thicker now, sticking to where they drop. It has the makings of a storm, especially in how much faster it’s coming down than when he’d been walking in it.

He can imagine them, in only a few hours, when the sun has barely crested the horizon and the cold is settling into the room, being wrapped up in Iris again. He can imagine even more, when the snow melts and the sun is on its way back down again, holding Iris’s hand in his as she walks beside him, in red high heels that match his shirt, in an easy smile that looks like his own, as they head to where they’ll talk and laugh and flirt over red wine and candlelight.

And because he can imagine it, because he wants to imagine it, to make it a reality, he finds himself telling her all of it: about The West Wing marathon he’d been watching since the start of the month because he remembers it had been his parents’ favorite show and he’d seen that it was on Netflix; about his attempts to befriend one of his colleagues, Cisco, because he’s never really had a friend and he thinks that he can be one, if he tries hard enough; about the crashed car that changed his life and the pain of Christmas lights and shiny tinsel that he’s begun talking to someone to alleviate.

For a moment, he thinks he’s said too much. Sure, she’s pretty and she’s sweet and she makes him feel like no one ever has before. But he’s only met her hours ago and it’s this, this kind of baggage, that’s kept him from reaching out, from trying to get close to anyone.

She still doesn’t kick him out. Instead, she tells him about her own childhood, about how distant parents had turned into divorced ones and how the strained tension hadn’t left just because they were no longer in the house yelling at one another. She tells him the struggles she’s had at work, at having to write whatever the paper deems as “black issues,” and the double edged sword that comes with wanting to write universal stories, and also wanting to take those black stories for fear no one else will write them with as much care and nuance. She explains how unlucky in love she’s been, how her thoughts are dismissed because men think she’s too pretty or how her well-earned independence is far too independent for them to see her seriously. It makes her more real to him, and Barry ponders how quickly one could fall in love.

They talk, until the sun does rise over Iris's window sill. And Barry rolls onto his back to pull her atop him, fingering into her until she’s dripping down his wrist. He sheathes himself and pushes himself into her, wet hands holding onto her hips as she takes over, grinding down onto him until they’re both a simpering, moaning mess, soaked and sated. After, Iris cuddles on top of him again, her mouth against his throat as she tells him, “of course, we’ll go out later,” when he whispers the question into hair.

They fall asleep to the still quietly falling snow.

Won't you bury me in your quiet love, oh bury me in your quiet love, bury me in your quiet love, and we will blow away.

#westallen fanfiction #Barry Allen #iris west

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Did Republicans Riot After Obama Was Elected

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Did Republicans Riot After Obama Was Elected

Undocumented Kids Are Saved By Obamas Executive Order Daca Which Would Put A Halt To Deportation For Those Whod Entered The Country Before Age 16 And Yet In A Bid To Get The Gop To Come Over To His Side On Immigration Reform The President Has Also Deported A Record 15 Million People In His First Term

A Family Caught in Immigration Limbo

When Belsy Garcia saw her mother’s number appear on her iPhone on the afternoon of June 15, she felt what she calls the “uncomfortable fluttering” sensation in her chest. She knew that daytime calls signaled an emergency. The worst one had come the previous year, when her sister told her ICE agents had placed their father in federal custody.

Garcia was attending Mercer University in Macon, Georgia, when her father was marched out of her childhood home. As an undocumented immigrant — like both of her parents, who are from Guatemala — she couldn’t qualify for loans. She financed her education through scholarships and a stipend she earned as a residential assistant. Now she wondered if her mother was calling to say her father had been deported, which might force her to leave school to become the family’s breadwinner.

But this call was different. “Go turn on the television,” Garcia’s mother said. “You’re going to be able to work, get a driver’s license.”

Onscreen, President Obama was announcing the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program. Undocumented immigrants who had arrived in the United States as children could apply for Social Security numbers and work permits. Garcia qualified: Her parents had brought her to this country when she was 7 years old. DACA transformed her into a premed student who could actually become a doctor. “It was like this weight was lifted,” she says. “All of that hard work was going to pay off.”

In The Next Hundred Days Our Bipartisan Outreach Will Be So Successful That Even John Boehner Will Consider Becoming A Democrat After All We Have A Lot In Common He Is A Person Of Color Although Not A Color That Appears In The Natural World Whats Up John Barack Obama White House Correspondents Dinner

And Then There Were Three

The first woman to argue a case before the Supreme Court did so in 1880. It would take another 101 years for a woman to sit on that bench rather than stand before it. Even then, progress was fitful. Over the 12 years that Sandra Day O’Connor and Ruth Bader Ginsburg served together, their identities evidently merged; lawyers regularly addressed Ginsburg as “Justice O’Connor.” When O’Connor retired in 2006, she left the faux Justice O’Connor feeling lonely. Ruth Bader Ginsburg warned of something far more alarming: What the public saw on entering the court were “eight men of a certain size, and then this little woman sitting to the side.” They might well represent the most eminent legal minds in America. But there was something antiquated, practically mutton-choppy, about that portrait.

How many female justices would be sufficient? Nine, says Justice Ginsburg, noting that no one ever raised an eyebrow at the idea of nine men.

Seal Team Six Kills Osama Bin Ladenraiding His Secret Compound In Abbottabad Pakistan While Obama And His Top Advisers Watch A Live Feed Of The Mission From The White House Situation Room The Picture Of The Assembled Becomes The Last Supper Of The Obama Era

Poop Feminism

For me, it’s one moment. All the bridesmaids have come to the fancy bridal shop to see Maya Rudolph try on wedding dresses. This should be a familiar scene: The bride emerges from the changing room and … This is the dress! The friends clap. The mother cries. Everyone is a princess. Go ahead and twirl!

But when the bride emerges in Bridesmaids, almost all of her friends have started to feel sick. Sweat coats their skin. Red splotches creep over their faces. They try to “ooh” and “aah,” but it’s already too late. It starts with a gag from Melissa McCarthy, followed by another gag. Then a gag that comes simultaneously with a tiny wet fart. It’s the smallness of the fart that’s important here. It’s the kind of fart that slips out — a fart that could be excused away, a brief, incongruous accident. Women don’t fart in wedding movies, and women certainly don’t fart at the exact moment that the bride comes out in her dress. This can’t be happening. Melissa McCarthy blames the fart on the tightness of her dress. We breathe a sigh of relief.

Then sweet Ellie Kemper gags, and the sound effect is surprisingly nasty. Ellie’s face is gray. Melissa’s face is red. They look bad. They are embarrassed. How far is this going to go?

The camera cuts. We are above now. We look down from a safe perch as the release we have been anticipating and dreading begins. It is horribly, earth-shatteringly gross. A woman has just pooped in a sink. The revolution has begun.

The Government Acquires A 61 Percent Stake In Gm And Loans The Company $50 Billion The Auto Bailout Will Eventually Be Heralded As A Great Success Adding More Than 250000 Manufacturing Jobs To The Economy

The Auto Industry Gets Rerouted

“The president was very clear with us that he only wanted to do stuff that would fundamentally change the way they did business. And that’s what we did. There were enormous changes. For example, General Motors had something like 300 different job classifications that the union had. If you were assigned to put the windshield wipers on, you couldn’t put tires on. And we wiped all that stuff out. We basically gave back management the freedom to manage, to hire, to fire. People stopped getting paid even when they were on layoff. We reduced the number of car plants so that there wasn’t so much overcapacity. So now, when you have 16 million cars sold , they’re making a fortune.”

Black Lives Matter Activists Are Arrested In Baton Rouge Louisianaprotesting The Murder Of Alton Sterling; More Than 100 People Are Detained In St Paul Minnesota Protesting The Murder Of Philando Castile

What Is the Point of a Quantified Self?

Melissa Dahl: The Fitbit was introduced at a tech conference eight years ago. It’s kind of incredible to realize that, before then, this idea of the “quantified self” didn’t really exist in the mainstream.

Jesse Singal: I feel like it’s the intersection of all these different trends: Everyone plays video games these days. You got smartphones everywhere. And people are realizing that solutions to the big problems that lead to sleeplessness and anxiety and bad eating — unemployment and income inequality and yada yada yada — aren’t gonna get solved anytime soon.

MD: That’s interesting, because all of this self-tracking is also, according to some physicians, giving people more anxiety! A Fitbit-induced stress vortex.

Cari Romm: It feels like productive stress, though. I’m talking as a recovered Fitbit obsessive, but it does make you look at Fitbit-less people like, “You mean you don’t care how many steps you took today?”

MD: Oh, God. I don’t care. Should I care? Sleep is the one thing I obsessed over for a while. Which does not really help one get to sleep.

JS: Do you think an actually good and not obsession-inducing sleep app could help, though?

MD: There’s some aspect to the tracking idea that really does work. I mean, it’s just a higher-tech version of a food journal or sleep journal, right? Ben Franklin 300 years ago was tracking his 13 “personal virtues” in his diary.

JS: Would Ben Franklin have been an insufferable tech-bro?

Officer Darren Wilson Fatally Shoots Michael Brownin The St Louis Suburb Of Ferguson Sparking A National Protest Movement And Setting Off Unrest That Will Remain Unresolved Two Years Later

On the Triumph of Black Culture in the Age of Police Shootings

In the two years since Mike Brown was fatally shot by the police in Ferguson, and the video footage of his dead body in the street went viral, we have seen the emergence of a perverse dichotomy on our screens and in our public discourse: irrefutable evidence of grotesquely persistent racism, and irrefutable evidence of increasing black cultural and political power. This paradox is not entirely new, of course — America was built on a narrative of white supremacy, and black Americans have simultaneously continued to make vast and essential contributions to the country’s prominence—but it has become especially pronounced. And it’s not just because of the internet and social media, or the leftward shift of the culture, or black America’s being sick and tired of being sick and tired. In fact, it is all of these things, not least two terms with a black president. In the same way that black skin signals danger to the police , his black skin, to black people, signaled black cultural preservation. African-Americans didn’t see a black man as the most powerful leader in the free world; we saw the most powerful leader in the free world as black. This is what comedian Larry Wilmore was expressing at the 2016 White House Correspondents’ Dinner when he said, “Yo, Barry, you did it, my nigga.” It was a moment of unadulterated black pride.

Militants Attack American Compounds In Benghazi Libya Killing Us Ambassador Chris Stevens And Three Other Americans There Will Eventually Be Eight Congressional Probes Into The Incident

“I Know I Let Everybody Down”

“Before the debate, David Plouffe and I went in to talk to him and give him a pep talk and he said, ‘Let’s just get this over with and get out of here,’ which is not what you want to hear from your candidate right before the debate. We knew within ten minutes that it was going to be a debacle. We had armed him with a joke — it was his 20th anniversary, and he addressed Michelle — and it turns out Romney was expecting just such a line and had a really great comeback. And Romney was excellent — just free and easy and clearly well prepared and showed personality that people hadn’t seen before. Obama looked like he was at a press conference.

We had a meeting at the White House and he said, ‘I know I let everybody down and that’s on me, and I’m not going to let that happen again,’ and that was his attitude. We always had debate camps before, where we’d re-create in hotel ballrooms what the set would look like, and all of the conditions of the real debate. When we went down to Williamsburg, Virginia, for the next debate camp, he seemed really eager to engage in the prep. We had a decent first night. That was on Saturday. On Sunday night, Kerry, playing Romney, got a little more aggressive and Obama a little less so; it looked very much like what we had seen in Denver. It was like he’d taken a step back.

Scott Brown Is Elected Massachusetts Senatorturning Ted Kennedys Seat Republican For The First Time Since 1952 And Suddenly Throwing The Prospect Of Passing Obamacare Into Jeopardy

Plan B

“I’m talking to Rahm and Jim Messina and saying, ‘Okay, explain to me how this happened.’ It was at that point that I learned that our candidate, Martha Coakley, had asked rhetorically, ‘What should I do, stand in front of Fenway and shake hands with voters?’ And we figured that wasn’t a good bellwether of how things might go.

This might have been a day or two before the election, but the point is: There is no doubt that we did not stay on top of that the way we needed to. This underscored a failing in my first year, which was the sort of perverse faith in good policy leading to good politics. I’ll cut myself some slack — we had a lot to do, and every day we were thinking, Are the banks going to collapse? Is the auto industry going to collapse? Will layoffs accelerate? We just didn’t pay a lot of attention to politics that first year, and the loss in Massachusetts reminded me of what any good president or elected official needs to understand: You’ve got to pay attention to public opinion, and you have to be able to communicate your ideas. But it happened, and the question then was, ‘What’s next?’

Sheryl Sandbergs Lean In Hits Bookstores Making The Feminist Case That Women Should Be More Aggressive And Ambitious In Their Careers And Making Feminists Themselves Very Angry

The “Mommy Wars” Finally Flame Out

After decades of chilly backlash, we find ourselves, these past eight years, in an age of feminist resurgence, with feminist websites and publications and filmmakers and T-shirts and pop singers and male celebrities and best-selling authors and women’s soccer teams. Of course, as in every feminist golden age, there has also been dissent: furious clashes over the direction and quality of the discourse, especially as the movement has become increasingly trendy, shiny, and celebrity-backed.

Perhaps the most public feminist conflagration of the Obama years came at the nexus of policy and celebrity, of politics and pop power. It was the furor over Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg, who gave a viral 2010 TED Talk about women in the workplace who “leave before they leave” — who alter their professional strategy to accommodate a future they assume will be compromised by parenthood — which led to the publication of her 2013 feminist business manifesto, Lean In.

It’s a lesson of the Obama era: One approach to redressing inequality does not have to blot out the others. Sometimes, attacking from all angles is the most effective strategy.

Texas State Senator Wendy Davis Laces Up Her Pink Running Shoes And Spends Ten Long Hours Attempting To Filibuster A Billthat Wouldve Imposed Statewide Abortion Restrictions

“The Concept of Dignity Really Matters”

“I was given an enormous degree of latitude. I did communicate with the White House counsel on occasion about high-profile cases, but it was much more in the nature of just giving them a heads-up, to calm any nervous feelings they might have. There’s only one exception to that, and it was on marriage equality, in the Hollingsworth v. Perry case in 2013. We were contemplating coming in and arguing that it was unconstitutional for California to refuse to recognize the legal validity of same-sex marriages. But we didn’t have to do it . And because it was a discretionary judgment, and it was such a consequential step, that was the one matter where I really sought out the president’s personal guidance. I wanted to make sure the president had a chance to thoroughly consider what we should do before we did it. It was really one of the high points of my tenure. It was a wide-ranging conversation about doctrinal analysis, about where society was now, about social change and whether it should go through the courts or through the majoritarian process, about the pace of social change, about the significance of the right at stake. He was incredibly impressive.

A Golf Summit Between John Boehner And Barack Obama Stirs Hopethat Perhaps The Two Parties Will Come To A Budget Agreement And Forestall A True Crisis Secret And Semi

A Grand Bargain That Wasn’t, Remembered Three Ways

“The president of the United States and the Speaker of the House, the two most powerful elected officials in Washington, decided in a conversation that they both had to try to make something happen. Maybe it would be the way it worked in a West Wing episode in a world that doesn’t work like a West Wing episode. That’s how it started — two individuals saying we’re going to try. I think they both shared a belief in the art of the possible, and they both did not think compromise was a dirty word.

When our cover was blown — a Wall Street Journal editorial came out saying that Boehner and Obama were working on this and attacking the whole premise — that was devastating. It resulted in Cantor being a part of the talks. Cantor and Boehner came in, and I think it was a weekend private session with the president in the Oval Office, and they were talking about the numbers. At one point Cantor said, ‘Listen, it’s not just the numbers. There’s concern that this will help you politically. Paul Ryan said if we do this deal, it will guarantee your reelection. If we agree with Barack Obama on spending and taxes, that takes away one of our big weapons.’ There were so many obstacles, some of them substantive — how much revenue, and what about the entitlements? — but there was also this overlay of ‘This is going to help Obama.’

Illustrations by Lauren Tamaki

The Obama Administration Unveils Its Plan For Regulating Wall Streetwhich Is Then Introduced In Congress By Senator Chris Dodd And Representative Barney Frank

MJ=JC?

Lane Brown: Michael Jackson’s death was a big deal for lots of obvious reasons, including the surprising way it happened and the fact that he was arguably the most famous person on the planet.

Nate Jones: He was an A-lister with an indisputable body of work; he was 50 years old, his hits were the right age — old enough that every generation knew them, but not too old that they weren’t relevant anymore.

LB: But it was also the first huge celebrity death to happen in the age of social media, or at least the age of Twitter.

NJ: MJ’s death came alongside the protests in Iran, which was when Twitter went mainstream.

LB: It also meant that so much of the instant reaction was to make it all about us.

Frank Guan: In a lot of ways, the culture prefers the death of artists to their continuing to live. Once an artist gets launched into the stratosphere, there’s no way to come down, and that permanence becomes monotonous. They run out of timely or groundbreaking material and the audience starts tuning out. At some point, their fame eclipses their art, and then the only way to get the general audience to appreciate them anew is for them to die.

LB: People seem to like the grieving process so much that even lesser celebrities get the same treatment.

Congresswoman Gabby Giffords Returns To The House Floor For The First Time Since Being Shot In A Massacre In January Casting A Vote In Favor Of The Debt

A Rare Moment of Unity

“I was doing intensive rehabilitation in Houston at the time but was following the debate closely, and I was pretty disappointed at what was happening in Washington. I’d seen the debate grow so bitter and divisive and so full of partisan rancor. And I was worried our country was hurtling toward a disastrous, self-inflicted economic crisis. That morning, when it became clear the vote was going to be close, my husband, Mark, and I knew we needed to get to Washington quickly. I went straight from my rehabilitation appointment to the airport, and Mark was at our house in Houston packing our bags so he could meet us at the plane.

That night, I remember seeing the Capitol for the first time since I was injured and feeling so grateful to be at work. I will never forget the reception I received on the floor of the House from my colleagues, both Republicans and Democrats. And then, like I had so many times before, I voted.

I worked so hard to get my speech back, and honestly, talking to people who share my determination helped me find my words again. I’ve been to Alaska, Maine, and everywhere in between. Best of all, I got back on my bike. Riding my bike once seemed like such a huge challenge. It seemed impossible.”

Miley Cyrus Twerks At The Mtv Vmassetting Off A Controversy About Cultural Appropriation That Soon Ensnares Seemingly Every White Pop Star On The Planet

• Karlie Kloss wears a Native American headdress and fringed bra at the Victoria’s Secret fashion show.

• Justin Timberlake is accused of appropriating black music when he tells a black critic “We are the same” after praising Jesse Williams’s BET Humanitarian Award speech about race and police brutality.

• DJ Khaled gets lost on Jet Ski, snaps the whole time.

• Two UW-Madison students snap their meet-cute as the entire student body cheers them on.

• Playboy Playmate Dani Mathers films and mocks an anonymous woman in the gym shower.

• A Massachusetts teen records the sexual assault of a 16-year-old girl. The video is later seen by a friend of the victim.

Prior To Going To War In Iraq Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld Optimistically Predicted The Iraq War Might Last Six Days Six Weeks I Doubt Six Months

What’s more, Vice-President Dick Cheney said we would be greeted as liberators by the Iraqi people after we overthrow Saddam.

They were both horribly wrong. Instead of six weeks or six months, the Iraq war lasted eight long and bloody years costing thousands of American lives. It led to an Iraqi civil war between the Sunnis and the Shiites that took hundreds of thousands of Iraqi lives. Many Iraqi militia groups were formed to fight against the U.S. forces that occupied Iraq. What’s more, Al Qaeda, which did not exist in Iraq before the war, used the turmoil in Iraq to establish a new foothold in that country.

The Iraq war was arguably the most tragic foreign policy blunder in US history.

In 2012 Republicans Predicted That Failure To Approve The Keystone Pipeline Would Send The Price Of Gasoline Sky High And Kill Large Numbers Of Jobs

Despite the fact that the Keystone Pipeline was not approved, the price of gasoline continued to drop below $1.80 per gallon, millions of new jobs were created and unemployment dropped from 8% to 4.9% by early 2016. The most optimistic predictions say that the Keystone Pipeline would only create a few dozen long-term jobs and would do nothing to lower the price of gasoline.

Eric Cantors Stunning Primary Loss Suggests No Politician Is Safe From The Rage Of The Tea Party Not Even The Tea Partys Canniest Political Leader

From Party’s Future to Also-Ran in a Single Day

On the day his political career died, Eric Cantor was busy tending to what he still believed was its bright future. While his GOP-primary opponent, David Brat, visited polling places in and around Richmond, Virginia, Cantor spent his morning 90 miles away at a Capitol Hill Starbucks. He was there to host a fund-raiser for three of his congressional colleagues — something he did every month, just another part of the long game he was playing, which, he believed, would eventually culminate in his becoming Speaker of the House.

The preceding five years had brought Cantor tantalizingly closer to that goal. In the immediate aftermath of Obama’s election, he’d rallied waffling House Republicans to stand in lockstep opposition to the new president’s agenda. In 2010, he’d helped elect 87 new Republican members, giving the GOP a House majority and making Cantor the House majority leader. He became the champion of these freshmen members, stoking their radicalism during the debt-ceiling fight and working to undermine Obama and John Boehner’s attempt to strike a “grand bargain.” His alliance with the ascendant tea party was strategic — it gave him leverage not only over Obama but over other Republicans who might also have had aspirations of becoming Speaker. It never occurred to him that the wave he was trying to ride might crash on him instead.

In 1993 When Bill Clinton Raised Taxes On The Wealthiest 15% Republicans Predicted A Recession Increased Unemployment And A Growing Budget Deficit

They weren’t just wrong: The exact opposite of everything they predicted happened. The country experienced the seven best years of economic growth in history.

Twenty-two million new jobs were added.

Unemployment dropped below 4%.

The poverty rate dropped for seven straight years.

The budget deficit was eliminated.

There was a growing budget surplus that economists projected could pay off our national debt in 20 years.

Republicans Predicted That We Would Find Iraqs Weapons Of Mass Destruction Even Though Un Weapons Inspectors Said That Those Weapons Didn’t Exist

The Bush administration continued to insist that WMDs would be found, even when the CIA said some of the evidence was questionable. As we all know, the WMDs predicted by the Bush administration did not exist, and Saddam Hussein had not resumed his nuclear weapons program as they claimed. Ultimately, both President Bush and Vice President Cheney had to admit that there were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.

Republicans Predicted That President Obamas Tax Increase For The Top 1% In 2013 Would Kill Jobs Increase The Deficit And Cause Another Recession

You guessed it; just the opposite happened. In the four years following January 1, 2013, when that tax increase went into effect, through January 2017, unemployment dropped from 7.9% to 4.8%, an average of more than 200,000 new jobs were created per month, Wall Street set new record highs, and the budget deficit was cut in half.

Over 5.7 million new jobs were created in the first two years after that tax increase. That’s more jobs created in two years than were created during the combined 12 years of both Bush presidencies.

In 2001 When George W Bush Cut Taxes For The Wealthy Republicans Predicted Record Job Growth Increased Budget Surplus And Nationwide Prosperity

Once again, the exact opposite occurred. After the Bush tax cuts were enacted:

The budget surplus immediately disappeared.

The budget deficit eventually grew to $1.4 trillion by the time Bush left office.

Less than 3 million net jobs were added during Bush’s eight years.

The poverty rate began climbing again.

We experienced two recessions along with the greatest collapse of our financial system since the Great Depression.

In 1993, President Clinton signed the Brady Law mandating nationwide background checks and a waiting period to buy a gun.

Apple Announces That It Has Sold 100 Million Iphoneswithin A Few Months It Will Overtake Exxonmobil As The Most Valuable Company In The World

Earthlings Gain a New Appendage

What if we had the singularity and nobody noticed? In 2007, Barack Obama had been on the trail for weeks, using a BlackBerry like all the cool campaigners, when the new thing went on sale and throngs lined up for it. The new thing had a silly name: iPhone. The iPhone was a phone the way the Trojan horse was a horse.

Now it’s the gizmo without which a person feels incomplete. It’s a light in the darkness, a camera, geolocator, hidden mic, complete Shakespeare, stopwatch, sleep aid, heart monitor, podcaster, aircraft spotter, traffic tracker, all-around reality augmenter, and increasingly a pal. At the Rio Olympics you could see people, having flown thousands of miles to be in the arena with the athletes, watching the action through their smartphones. As though they needed the mediating lens to make it real.

This device, this gadget — a billion have been made and we scarcely know what to call it. For his 2010 novel of the near future, , Gary Shteyngart made up a word, “äppärät.” “My äppärät buzzing with contacts, data, pictures, projections, maps, incomes, sound, fury.” Future then, present now. His äppäräti were worn around the neck on pendants. Ours are in our pockets when they aren’t in our hands, but they also sprout earbuds, morph into wristwatches and eyeglasses. Contact lenses have been rumored; implants are only a matter of time.

Let’s face it, we’ve grown a new organ.

Republicans Said Waterboarding And Other Forms Of Enhanced Interrogation Are Not Torture And Are Necessary In Fighting Islamic Extremism

In reality, waterboarding and other forms of enhanced interrogation that inflict pain, suffering, or fear of death are outlawed by US law, the US Constitution, and international treaties. Japanese soldiers after World War II were prosecuted by the United States for war crimes because of their use of waterboarding on American POWs.

Professional interrogators have known for decades that torture is the most ineffective and unreliable method of getting accurate information. People being tortured say anything to get the torture to end but will not likely tell the truth.

An FBI interrogator named Ali Soufan was able to get al Qaeda terrorist Abu Zubaydah to reveal crucial information without the use of torture. When CIA interrogators started using waterboarding and other enhanced interrogation methods, Zubaydah stopped cooperating and gave his interrogators false information.

Far from being necessary in the fight against terrorism, torture is completely unreliable and counter-productive in obtaining useful information.

In 2008 Republicans Said That If We Elect A Democratic President We Would Be Hit By Al Qaeda Again Perhaps Worse Than The Attack On 9/11

Former Vice-President Dick Cheney stated that electing a Democrat as president would all but guarantee that there would be another major attack on America by Al Qaeda. Cheney and other Republicans were, thankfully, completely wrong. During Obama’s presidency, we had zero deaths on U.S. soil from Al Qaeda attacks and we succeeded in killing Bin Laden along with dozens of other high ranking Al Qaeda leaders.

Game Of Thrones Arrives On Televisionwith An Assemblage Of Dragons Torture Nudity Incest And Despair A Show The Whole Family Can Enjoy

Explaining Kale

ADAM PLATT: Many things in Foodlandia, these days, have a political element to them, and if you want to emblazon a flag to be carried into battle, you could do worse than a bristly, semi-digestible bunch of locally grown kale.

ALAN SYTSMA: To eat kale is to announce you’re a person who cares about the matters of the day.

AP: The idea of kale is much more powerful than kale itself. In short order it went from being discovered, to appreciated, to being something that was parodied. Frankly, I’m all for the parody.

AS: The same thing happened to pork. Remember bacon peanut brittle? Bacon-fat cocktails? There’s bacon dental floss.

AP: Ahhh, bacon versus kale. The two great, competing forces of our time.

AS: Do you think one gave way to the other?

AP: What we’re really talking about is artisanal bacon, and the more sophisticated-sounding pork belly, made from pigs that were lovingly reared at upstate farms and fed diets of pristine little acorns. Bacon is the great symbol in the comfort-food, farm-fresh-dining movement, a kind of merry, unbridled pulchritude. Kale is the righteous yin to pork’s fatty, non-vegan yang.

AS: But pork has an advantage: People like the way it tastes.

AP: That’s a huge advantage, one that will hopefully see it through to victory.

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backtothestart02 · 4 years ago

Text

Mixed Drink - 19/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: This one was harder to write, but I hope you enjoy it!

Commissioned by @andromidagalaxie

...

Chapter 19 -

A few days later, Iris found herself still at work an hour after her shift had ended, gnawing on her lip and still unsure of what to do.

She still hadn’t called or texted Jesse. She had to give the girl credit. She hadn’t bothered her once. She’d waited patiently for Iris to contact her. She had said she’d contact her in a few days though, and a few days it had been.

Tell her everything?

How dangerous would that be? And what would she do with that information? She said she wouldn’t share it, but would she cave and tell Wally, or worse yet, Joe and Francine? She might have the best of intentions, but some of the worst things in the world happened with the best intentions.

She was so occupied staring at the floor with her chin propped in her hand that she didn’t even register the presence of someone walking towards her.

“Made a decision yet?” the voice asked, and when Iris looked up, she saw the object of her thoughts staring down at her softly. She didn’t look angry or annoyed, just curious.

“Jesse, hi.”

“Hey. May I?” She gestured to the other side of the booth Iris was sitting at.

Iris nodded, forcing a smile on her conflicted face.

“How’ve you been?” Jesse asked, as if the real question she wanted to ask wasn’t plain as day written on her forehead.

“Alright,” Iris played along, needing the small talk somehow. “You?”

“I’ve been fine. School, you know. And Wally…”

Iris’ brows furrowed. “Are things all right with Wally?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, they’re fine. It’s just…” She licked her lips.

“You want to know my answer,” Iris finished for her.

“It has been a few days,” Jesse said weakly, as if she was afraid to remind her. “That is what you asked for.”

Iris nodded. “It is.”

“Have you…thought about my proposal?”

“Is this a school assignment?” Iris asked, only half-joking.

“I am taking a journalism class just for fun, but no, it’s not an assignment.”

That’s how it started for me too, Iris thought to herself. A journalism class for fun.

She’d developed a passion for writing and reporting so fast, investigating, finding out the truth and sharing it, letting justice prevail. But her love for it had also quickly become the downfall of the entire West family. Ever since then she’d wandered in the wilderness of her life, never succeeding at what she loved so much.

Every place of employment she went to, her heart ached too fiercely, her passion bending the rules before she’d elevated to a place where she could bend them. She was never promoted, never praised, and in the end fired for reasons that sometimes seemed like they came out of thin air. Sometimes they were legitimate – not sticking to assignments ever or sneaking into places where her badge did not allow, places that were dangerous apparently. But sometimes she would be fired without a reason and without any warning, and with no recommendation letter either, which left her truly wondering if she was cursed to have such a love for something she couldn’t seem to succeed at.

“Iris?”

She blinked and found Jesse looking at her with furrowed brows again, a concerned expression if she ever saw one.

“Um…”

“If your answer is no, it’s okay to say so. It’s eating me alive not being able to do something as I see your family continue to fall apart, but…I won’t push you. Like you said, some things just can’t be fixed.”

Iris eyed her suspiciously.

“You don’t strike me as someone who gives up that easily.”

Jesse hesitated. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions – not related to your past?”

“Okay.”

That seemed safe enough.

“Why are you working at Jitters, of all places?”

Iris raised her eyebrows, amused.

“Jitters is a nice place.”

“For a first job maybe,” Jesse said. “Or a job to hold you over while you’re going to school or until the next big thing comes along.” She paused. “Is there a next big thing coming along for you?”

Iris didn’t like how unsettled the question made her. She hadn’t actually thought much into the future except making her part of the rent and having Barry in her life. Eventually she wanted to try being a reporter again, but right now she was so depleted from all her failed attempts that she didn’t even want to think about it.

“Not yet,” she finally said. “But for right now it’s enough.”

“Do you have someone special in your life right now?”

Iris grinned at that. She was shameless about the man in her life. She didn’t mind sharing that aspect one bit.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Jesse looked surprised, but Iris ignored her.

“Really? What’s his name?”

“His name is Barry.” Iris beamed.

“How long have you known each other?”

“Just a few weeks, but I feel like I’ve known him my whole life.” She sighed happily.

“Where did you two meet?” Jesse asked, slipping into girl talk mode more than investigative reporter.

Iris hesitated. “…in a bar.”

“Ah.”

“A one-night stand I’ll never regret.”

“Mm.”

Iris could feel the waves of disapproval coming off of Jesse and immediately got defensive.

“How did you and Wally meet?” she asked, crossing her legs beneath the table.

“Well…as much as I’d like to say a study group or something of that nature, it was also a bar.”

Iris’ jaw dropped. Maybe she’d judged too quickly.

“No way.”

“Way.” She laughed. “Celebratory drinks after a successful Math and Science Club competition. Wally apparently saw me across the room where he was with his engineering buddies and had a drink sent over. I invited him to do karaoke with me and the rest is history.”

“You’re telling me my baby brother didn’t so much as make a move the night you met?”

“Well, there might have been some making out in the women’s bathroom after we sang karaoke. He was apparently shocked I could sing, on top of math and science genius.” She lowered her voice to confide. “I graduated high school at 16 too.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Iris asked, even though the look on her face told Jesse that she was.

“Wally was.” She smirked.

“So, what are you now, 18?”

“Nineteen,” she said. “Close though.”

Jesse’s energy was contagious, and Iris found herself smiling. She liked this girl. She liked her a lot. She didn’t know if she trusted her with such a precious secret, but she liked her. She approved of her brother’s girlfriend.

Iris sobered up.

“Tell me why I should trust you, Jesse.”

Jesse grew serious too.

“Because I’m the only tie to you and the other West’s that genuinely has the best intentions at heart. I want to see your family whole again.”

“And if I tell you, you’ll what? Tell Wally and hope the information makes him instantly forgive me and we can tackle our parents together?”

“Something like that. Though I intend to make more of a game plan before just dumping all the information on him, especially given what he thinks of you right now.”

Iris stiffened. “Right.”

“Iris?”

“Mm?”

“He’s wrong. I know it.”

“And if he’s not?”

“We’re not family yet. I can choose to give you a second chance without Wally’s permission.”

“You’re gutsy, I’ll give you that.”

Jesse waited a beat then asked, “So? What do you think?”

Iris took a deep breath and then jumped in with both feet.

“Okay. Tonight. Meet back here five minutes after we close. I’ll let you in, and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Promise?”

Iris hesitated, but then nodded.

“Promise.”

…

Shortly after Jesse left, Iris decided she’d spent enough time at Jitters and wanted to go home.

Maybe Tom would be parked outside to take her to the hotel. He had been the past few days, but she was running out of clothes to change into for the next day at work. She should probably go home first and meet Barry at the hotel room later. They could have room service bring them a candle light dinner like they had last night and spend the night just relaxing with each other before inevitably having sex.

Well, maybe the sex would have to be delayed until later if she was going to come back to Jitters around 10 that night in order to talk to Jesse.

In order to talk to Jesse.

Wow. She couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed to that. This would change everything.

A heaviness settled over her that she quickly shook off. She could think of the gravity of all of this when she came back later. Now she had to get some clothes and-

She paused. Because right there behind one of the glass windows was her tall, handsome man, Barry Allen.

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she hurried outside to greet him by jumping into his arms. He laughed and held her tight before setting her down and kissing her.

“What a greeting,” he said, smiling wide.

“I’ll say.”

Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks were flushed.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and swept his curled finger across her nose, cheek, and chin. She was smiling wide when he finished.

“You take my breath away, Mr. Allen.”

“That’s at least one good thing I can do today,” he said.

Iris started to frown.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

He sighed.

“I have to work late tonight, really late. You can still come to the hotel if you want to, but I don’t know how much I’ll be around.”

“I thought you’re only on call for late nights, not actually scheduled.”

“Yeah, well, this one unfortunately was scheduled, and I just was not informed until today.”

“I see.” Her face fell.

“I’m sorry.”

He weaved his fingers through her hair, and she looked up at him.

“I still want to go to the hotel. We can have dinner together at least, yeah?”

He forced a smile. “Sure, Iris.”

“Oh, but first we need to stop at my place. I need more clothes to work in for the rest of the week.”

“Don’t you ever get a day off?”

She laughed. “Day after tomorrow is my day off, so I guess technically I only need one more dress.”

“You like wearing dresses?” he asked, sneaking his arm through hers and guiding her across the street to where the limo was waiting for them.

She nodded as she stepped into the vehicle, smiling at Tom as she went.

“They’re fun to wear.”

“Easy to get out of too, I imagine,” Barry murmured, and Iris knew they’d only half be eating dinner that night. The rest of the time would be taken up with losing themselves in each other in the best way they knew how.

“You’ve learned that easily enough that week, haven’t you?” she teased.

He chuckled. “It’s been a fun lesson to learn.”

“Then come here, Mr. Allen,” she said, pulling him near her. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

He went with her and plastered a sexy grin on his face.

“Gladly, Ms. West,” he said, and slipped his hand up her dress to squeeze one ask cheek underneath.

Iris yelped, and Barry swallowed it with a kiss.

Just beyond them, Tom brought up the partition and turned on the music.

…

In the middle of the night, adorned in all black, Barry stepped into the shadows of the museum in downtown Central City.

He’d taken down the security system and the laser defenses and was now lying in wait for the criminals to come and take their prize – or attempt to take thei, the stunning painting with a usb inside that detailed important government information that was best kept out of their hands.

“Are you in, Barry?” Felicity’s voice said directly into his ear.

He pushed the com in closer and lowered his voice to almost silent.

“Yeah, I’m in. It’s quiet as a mouse in here.”

“Not for much longer. Look to your left.”

Barry pushed himself further back into the shadows and looked to his left as Felicity had instructed.

“I see him.”

“He has two guns on him. See the bulge at his ankle?”

“Yeah, I see.”

“We have to catch this guy and whoever’s with him. I’m your back-up, Barry. Follow him to the painting.”

“On it.”

And so, Barry waited a till the man started to move, foolishly right into the moonlight on his way to the painting. He followed him then, discreetly. From room to room he waited, making sure he didn’t make a sound with each step he followed him.

Then they were both inside the room where the painting resided, and Barry pulled a gun out of his pocket.

“It’s over, Slick.”

The man spun around just as he was about the reach for the painting.

“Who are you?” he gasped, and Barry realized at that moment that this wasn’t the guy they were looking for this. This was an amateur. And why would a professional use an amateur to come steal his prize possession?

Unless he knew someone would try to stop him…

“Hello, Mr. Visier.”

Barry turned around, the name he’d put on his job application familiar to him.

“I knew it was a mistake hiring you, but I did it anyway.”

Barry’s brows furrowed. “Wha-”

The man punched him to the ground, and then a few more times until he was unconscious.

“Barry! Barry, are you all right? Barry?” Felicity’s voice sounded in his ear, but neither men heard it.

The sound of Barry’s bulletproof vest being unzipped was heard in Felicity’s ear as well as a gunshot following it. Her eyes widened in a panic. She clutched at her speaking device.

“BARRY!”

…

After a romantic, steamy early evening with Barry, the last thing Iris wanted to do was go and tell her dark life story to Jesse Wells.

Still, a promise was a promise, and since Barry was gone when she woke up from her post-coital nap, she decided to get ready in the clothes she’d come in and head over to Jitters.

What she didn’t expect was the brunette not to show.

Iris waited over an hour and actually fell asleep waiting until a pounding at the door woke her. She sat up immediately, expecting it to be Jesse, but the sight before her stole her breath.

It was Wally.

Unsure of what was going to happen, she reluctantly made her way across the shop and unlocked the door for him.

“Wally, what are you-”

“So, this is your meeting spot, huh? With my girlfriend?”

She froze. “She told you.”

“No. She came over and this fell out of her pocket.”

He dropped the small recorder on a nearby table. Iris’ eyes widened. She’d had no idea Jesse had been recording her.

Wally pressed play on what he presumably wanted her to hear.

“Okay. Tonight. Meet back here five minutes after we close. I’ll let you in, and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He stopped the recording.

“So, what exactly were you going to tell her?” He took a seat at the table. “Because I’d love to know too.”

Iris bitterly sat back down and glared at him.

“You came late for someone who was following instructions.”

“Who said I was following them?”

“You had a fight,” she deciphered.

“You had no business getting my girlfriend involved.”

Iris scoffed. “She got herself involved. Sought me out. Twice!”

“You should’ve denied her.”

“Why? You afraid I’ll tell her the truth?”

He laughed. “And what is the truth, Iris?”

She was about to answer, about to spit something truly awful back in his face, but her phone rang in her pocket. She saw it was an unknown number and ignored it, but then it called back again and again, and so she stood up and answered it, much to Wally’s dislike.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is this Iris West?”

“Who’s asking?”

“My name is Felicity Smoak. I’m a co-worker of Barry’s. I was with him during his… During his shift tonight.”

Iris got a nasty feeling in her gut. She slowly sat down at the next table over to gain some privacy from Wally’s glaring eyes.

“This is Iris,” she said, her voice quivering.

There was a pause before the woman continued.

“There’s something you should know.”

...

*will be posted on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.

#westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #mixed drink #chapter 19 #fic commission #for andromidagalaxie

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years ago

Text

Facing the Unknown

Characters: Spencer Reid x Winchester!Reader, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, demons

Word Count: 3,583

Warnings: supernatural/criminal minds crossover, angst, fluff, nothing too bad

Summary: A case pops up to the infamous BAU city. Demons doesn’t mix well with real FBI agents, but you manage to save them all just fine.

Squares Filled: crime scene for @cmbingo // flattery will get you nowhere for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo // bleeding through the bandages in @badthingshappenbingo // enochian for my first heaven and hell bingo card // case fic for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

You can figure out a lot of things: why you don’t have the body you really want (you love pizza too damn much), why Dean doesn’t like to talk about his feelings (daddy issues), why Sam drank demon blood (Ruby made him do it), and why you can’t ever stop hunting (there will always be monsters). The only things you can’t figure out are angels and demons, more so the former.

Out of all the monsters you’ve dealt with, angels are the worst. They have a tendency to stick their noses in everyone’s business whether they are involved or not. Demons have a reason to do the exact same thing: they are spawns of Satan himself so they love to cause trouble and chaos. Angels just do it because they have nothing better to do. The only angel you like is Castiel, and even then it’s 50/50.

You’ve learned to love hunting. You know you’re going to spend the rest of your life doing it, so you may as well get along with the lifestyle instead of fighting it. Sam and Dean have learned the same lesson as you, so you’re not fazed when Sam says, “so get this”. You’ve adjusted to spending a few hours dedicated to sleep that having back to back hunts don’t even faze you anymore. However, this hunt, this specific hunt, has already drained your batteries and you’ve just started.

You stare at the dead body in front of you inside the morgue. There are three dead bodies with Enochian carved into their skin. Each of them is males and each of them has the same symbol on their chests. Castiel swears the angels have nothing to do with what’s been happening in this small town. Only men have been dropping dead for no reason. The angel thinks the demons are responsible for it, but you don’t know why they are carving Enochian symbols on their chests. They must be getting ready for some kind of ritual or spell, but Castiel doesn’t know what kind of ritual or spell that would need Enochian symbols on humans.

“How many more people have to die for us to understand what these demons are doing?” you ask with a sigh.

“This symbol means to summon death,” Castiel informs.

“Summon death? What, they can’t use speed dial? What do they want with Death?” Dean asks.

“If I knew that, then we would be able to stop them,” Castiel says. “However, the demons aren’t showing themselves until it’s too late. If we are going to try and stop them, then we need to get inside their heads before they make their next move.”

“Well, we have pictures of everything, so I say we grab some take out and beer, and think about this at the motel,” you suggest.

“I second that,” Your eldest brother grins.

“Shotgun!” you yell as you race to the car.

“Hey!” Sam scoffs.

“Sorry Sammy, you snooze you lose!” you stick your tongue out at him and get in through the passenger side.

After everyone is in, Dean peels out of the parking lot and heads straight to the best burger joint in this city. Something you and your brother like to do is to scope out the best burger places before starting the case. You’d cruise with him throughout the town and gather intel from the locals before trying the top three. The best, so far, has been Joe’s Burger Joint that has the juiciest meat you’ve ever tasted. You’ve begged the owner to give you the recipe so that Dean can make it back at the Bunker. However, he hasn’t given it up just yet.

Once you have the food in your possession, Dean heads back to the motel room. Castiel doesn’t eat (that’s another thing you couldn’t figure out) so he just sits on the bed while you and your brothers take up the small tab;e by the window. He’s staring intently at the pictures while you eat your burger. The TV is on a news channel, but it’s at a low volume so it’s not too distracting. You thought it was a good idea to put it on in case there might be another death regarding your angelic symbols.

“I can’t believe you don’t like meat, Sammy,” you groan after swallowing the delicious bite.

“I do like meat. I just don’t treat it like it’s going out of style,” he says in disgust as you and Dean scarf down your food.

“More for us,” Dean says with his mouth full.

It’s all smiles and jokes now until you get a glimpse at the TV. On the news is a headline stating there has been another body. However, it’s all the way across the fucking country. All the deaths so far have been in Texas, so why is there a new one in Virginia?

“Guys, look,” you state once your mouth is clear of food.

All heads turn to the TV and you turn it up.

“FBI officials have stated that the recent deaths in Texas may be linked to the newest one. Authorities haven’t commented on what’s been going on, but that doesn’t stop the public from speculating. There are a bunch of questions still left to be answered, so all we can do now is wait. Jim, back to you,” the female reporter states.

“Why are they targeting people in Virginia now?” you wonder.

“Maybe we’ve been looking at this wrong. Maybe it’s not the town they are interested in, but the people,” Castiel says.

“Let’s hope that by the time we get there the FBI hasn’t already contaminated the crime scene. I may act like one, but they are the real dicks,” you scoff.

“I can get us there in a few seconds if you prefer,” Castiel stands up.

“That’s one of the very few good things about you,” you smile. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” Dean declares.

Dean made Castiel bring baby along since he didn’t want to be thousands of miles away from her. It was a lot harder to conceal a big fucking car as it appears out of thin air, but Castiel picked a good spot to go to. The crime scene isn’t that far from where you are, and you’re thankful you got dressed in your FBI get up before leaving. You know you’ll be here for the rest of the night, so you went online and bought two rooms at a small hotel that’s near the crime scene. One for you and the other one for your brothers. Castiel doesn’t need one since he doesn’t sleep. It’s best to think ahead.

Dean rushes over to the crime scene which is thankfully still intact. A handful of FBI agents are still inside, but it looks like most of the general population has lost interest. There is only one standard FBI car in the driveway, so you’re not too worried about having to trick only a few of them. Your surrogate dad is only a phone call away if these guys question who you are. You get out of the car and make your way inside.

“When I said that the FBI are dicks, I forgot to mention hot because damn, he is fine,” you whistle lowly to your eldest brother when you spot a very attractive agent in the room.

He has brown curly hair that looks a little messy, but a put-together messy. He’s very tall but not as tall as Sam. He’s probably the same height as Dean. You can’t hear what he saying to his fellow agents, but you can hear the sound of his voice. It’s not deep at all, but it does make your knees weak. You have never seen a more perfect human being on this planet. If things go south, then you’ll be sure to protect him.

“Keep it in your pants, sister,” Dean grumbles just as one of the agents noticed the newcomers.

“Who are you?” a black man asks as he reaches for his gun.

He, the very attractive man, and a petite blonde woman all stare at you, the angel, and your brothers.

“This is a closed crime scene,” the blonde woman says.

“We’re agents Barry Young, Frank Bartley, Madison Grey, and Jason Brown. We’ve been sent here to check out the crime,” you state and show them your badges as does everyone else.

“We weren't informed of another team coming down here. You mind if I speak to your supervisor?” the black man asks.

“Sure,” you say and hand him Bobby’s card.

He takes it and steps off to the side.

“Who are you guys?” you ask.

“I’m Jennifer Jareau, that’s Derek Morgan, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re from the BAU right here in Quantico” the blonde says.

“Ooh, the cute one has a cute name. And he’s a doctor,” you grin.

“Excuse me?” Spencer stutters.

“You’ll have to excuse her. She can’t seem to put a cork in it,” Dean chuckles.

“What?” you scoff and turn to Spencer with a sweet smile. “So, what are you a doctor for?”

“It’s PhDs, actually. Three of them, not a medical one.”

“So, if I collapsed right here and now, you wouldn't give me mouth-to-mouth?” you pout teasingly.

“I know CPR,” he mutters and you just smirk.

“You’re cute when you blush,” you comment and turn to Jennifer. “I hope he’s not your boyfriend.”

“No, I’m married,” she chuckles.

“Do you have a girlfriend, doctor?” you ask.

“No,” he chuckles.

“This must be my lucky day then,” you grin.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he states.

“Then I guess I’ll have to work extra hard for your attention.”

“I don’t know who you guys think you are, but you’re not FBI,” Derek says when he steps back into the room.

Both Jennifer and Spencer tense when they realize you’re pretending to be FBI agents.

“That’s a federal offense, do you realize that?” he says with a hard glare.

“Look, we can explain,” Dean starts to say.

However, every single light in this house turned off, shrouding you eight in complete darkness. The only light available is coming from the moon outside.

“Are there more of you?” Derek demands to know and takes out his gun.

“They’re here,” Castiel says.

“The demons? Why?”

“I’m not sure. We’re on their territory.”

“Okay, listen,” you turn to the real FBI agents. “We’re not FBI, but we are going to save your life if you listen to what we say. These bodies that have been turning up are because demons are carving Enochian symbols on these people’s chests. We don’t know why, but they’re up to something big. So, for your safety, listen to what we say,” you explain quickly.

“Like hell we’re taking orders from you,” Jennifer growls.

“Castiel,” a demon says from the corner of the room where the body is. “Surprised to see you here.”

“You’re carving Enochian symbols. Of course, I’d be here.”

“Where did he come from?” Derek demands.

“Okay, we need to go. Please, just follow me,” you urge and grab Spencer and Jennifer’s wrists.

You drag both agents to the door but stop short when another demon pops up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he chuckles and walks inside.

“This battle is between you and me. Let them go,” you glare.

“I don’t think so,” he growls.

He clenches his right hand into a fist, and your throat starts to close up. He raises you off the ground using his demonic powers, and you have no choice but to take it.

“You see, we have a few more people to claim as our own, but I can see you brought us some toys to play with,” he grins maliciously.

“How is he doing that?” Spencer whispers to his colleagues.

“Go to hell,” you bite back.

“Been there, done that. But I’ll send you,” he laughs and throws you across the room and into the dining room table.

“Leave her alone!” Spencer yells and raises his gun at the man. He shoots him in the head, but it does nothing. The host inside the body is already dead. “What the hell?”

The demon uses his powers to lift all three people and throw them in the same direction as you. They collide with the wall in a loud thump.

“No!” you grunt and force yourself to your feet.

“What the hell is that?” Derek yells.

“A demon! I wasn’t lying before. They’re here for the body. My brothers and I are hunters. We deal with this shit all the time. Come on, follow me!” you urge and help them up.

They don’t argue with you after seeing what just happened. You lead them to the kitchen and rummage through the cabinets until you see the salt. You grab a few containers and gather the agents to the middle of the room. You begin to pour a circle around their feet despite them yelling at you to tell them what’s going on.

“Just stay in here! Do not pass over the salt line. They can’t get you in here. I promise,” you beg.

“That’s not going to stop me from getting to them,” the same demon grins from the door.

“Dean!” you yell.

“We’re kind of busy!” he shouts back, but the shout turns int a groan at the end.

There must be more demons now than the two that showed up.

You reach behind you to take out Ruby’s knife since you’re the one who holds onto it. Your dad trained your brothers how to shoot guns, and he trained you how to fight with a knife. You know how to shoot guns, but your specialty is knives, so Sam trusted you with Ruby’s knife. You barely have a grip on the handle when the demon flings you across the room and into some cabinets. You feel something pierce your side, and you look back to see the knife block containing the kitchen knives have fallen. One fell right int your side, but you have to ignore the pain if you’re going to help the agents. Spencer starts to move out of the circle, but you put your left hand up to stop him.

“No! Don’t leave the circle!” you yell and yank out the knife.

“I can make you come out, you know,” the demon chuckles as his eyes turn pitch black.

“Get the hell away from them!” you yell.

You grab one of the kitchen knives and throw it at the demon. It lands right in the middle of his back, and he just sighs and turns to you. You grab some paper towels and press them against your wound, using the waistband of your pants to keep it in place. Spencer’s eyes widen when he sees the man isn’t affected by the knife in his back. You reach for Ruby’s knife and reveal it, twirling it in your hands.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you grunt.

Your wound is bleeding profoundly, but you’ve lost more blood than this and still could fight. You’re going to be okay.

“I wasn’t trying to, but maybe I should,” he growls.

He runs at you, and you swipe the knife across his arm as you pass by him. He yells out in pain, but that only makes him angrier. You almost slide right into the salt circle, but Spencer reaches out to stop you before you had a chance to ruin it. Without saying anything else, you charge at the demon once more and pounce on his back. He struggles to get you off him, but you’re not in the mood to play games. You swing the knife right into his chest, and he cries out in pain. His entire skeleton glows bright orange as he dies, and he collapses to the ground like dead weight.

“Dean!” you yell.

“We’re okay. We took care of them. One of them got away with the body, but the rest are dead,” he says as he, Sam, and Castiel walk into the kitchen.

“You guys came come out now,” you whisper as you fall back into the kitchen table.

Spencer rushes over to you and lifts up your shirt to see your blood staining the paper towels.

“We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No. There are too many dead bodies here. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re bleeding out, Madison.”

“My name is Y/N Winchester. It’s only fair that you know,” you cough.

“Come here,” Dean says and helps you sit on the table.

“Is she going to be okay?” Jennifer asks.

“I’ll heal her,” Castiel says and walks over to you.

He presses two fingers to your forehead, and your wound disappears. Your side is only bloody from your blood, but the wound is gone. Spencer, Derek, and Jennifer back away slowly.

“That’s not possible,” she says.

“It is. You’ve just been living inside a bubble for your entire lives. You deal with serial killers and human predators. We deal with the supernatural and monsters. We’re not so different. Those were demons and they’ve carved angelic symbols into the victim’s chests. Castiel is an angel. Monsters do exist, but you don’t have to worry about that because we take care of it. I’m sorry we brought the battle to you,” you reveal.

“What are we going to tell Hotch?” Derek asks his team.

“Tell him or don’t. I wouldn’t. The supernatural isn’t something that needs to be broadcasted. If people find out, then they panic, and panic and chaos are made for monsters. People become vulnerable. If you want to know more about how you can help or if you want to determine if your case is human or not, then we’ll tell you more, but leave the supernatural to us.”

“Come on, we got to go,” Dean urges.

“I’ll take care of the bodies,” Castiel says and touches the dead one on the kitchen floor.

He disappears with the body and all three agents jump back from shock.

“I’ll be right there,” you say to your brothers.

“Good luck with this one,” he scoffs at Spencer before taking his leave with Sam.

“I need to call Hotch anyway and tell him why we’re going to be late,” Derek says and leaves as well.

“I’m going to go with him,” Jennifer smiles and exits the kitchen so it’s just you and Spencer now.

“It’s a shame that I won’t have more time trying to woo you, but here’s my number. Call me whenever you’re curious,” you say and hand him one of your cards.

“I can’t believe this is all real.”

“Believe it gorgeous. The world is a scary place. You know this because humans are ruthless. Monsters are worse. Don’t let it get to you.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I could walk. Don’t waste your tears on me. My family is all sorts of messed up, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t want to see a frown line on that pretty face.”

“Okay,” he chuckles.

“Damn, you really have it all. Great hair, gorgeous eyes, and a stunning smile. You must get all the ladies.”

“It’s less than you think.”

“Well, official count me as one. We have more hunts to do, but we are spending the night in this town. It’d be a shame if I didn’t get to say goodbye to you properly. I’ll be having my own room away from my brothers. I’d hate to spend it alone,” you flirt.

“That’s good to know,” he chuckles nervously.

“I know we just met, but I’d beat myself up if I didn’t do this,” you say.

You grab his cheeks and pull him down to you, placing your lips over his. It’s not weird for you to kiss someone you just met. Meeting guys in bars and playing pool with them does have its advantages. Apparently, this isn’t something new with Spencer because as soon as your lips touched his, his whole demeanor changed. He grips your hair in his hands and kisses you with passion. He doesn’t know why he’s behaving this way to a woman he just met, but there has been fire between you two ever since your initial contact.

His lips move smoothly over yours, and you open your mouth to grant his access. His tongue slips in for a brief moment before you pull away. There are about two inches of space between you two, and you look into his lust-blown eyes.

“You really know how to kiss,” you whisper.

“That’s not the only thing I know how to do.”

“Please come to my hotel room. I bet I can get my brothers to stay an extra day. I’m staying at the Suburban Extended Stay Hotel room 318. Do you need me to write it down?”

“No, I got it,” he shakes his head.

“Then I’ll be waiting,” you smirk and lean up to his ear to whisper to him. “Bring your handcuffs.”

You pull away from him with a wink and leave the kitchen. He doesn’t know who you are, but he likes the kind of woman you are. He normally doesn’t go out with women like you, but there is something exciting inside you. He’s definitely going to visit you tonight, and he’s definitely going to make sure you remember him well after you two have already parted ways.

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

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jasontoddiefor · 5 years ago

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Batfam Fanfic Rec Sunday!

I’ve decided to do something worthwhile with my 1400+ Batfam bookmarks, therefore I welcome you to my first Fanfic Rec Sunday. Every Sunday I guess I’ll recommend fanfictions for a specific theme, AU, trope, etc.

Feel free to request specific themes or AUs and I’ll do my best to search for fitting fanfiction!

(”Oh, I’ve always wanted to read something like a Brooklyn 99 crossover!” ”I’ve got your back, young reader.”)

This week’s theme is Time Travel & Batman Beyond!

And I’ve got 28 amazing fanfics for you below the read more!

Have fun and don’t forget to leave these lovely writers a comment!

Title: A Gift to Cherish Summary: The wonderful thing about being hurdled through time and space is that Jason doesn’t have to deal with the fallout of not listening to Bruce. The awful, terrible, no good very bad part of hurtling through time and space is that he has no idea where he is. It’s all up to wormhole he was thrown into to decide where he gets spit out to. In which Jason is thrown into a future he never came back to, and gets to heal, just a little bit. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20226775

Title: A Good Place Summary: Damian Wayne is kidnapped and sent back years through time. Together, he and Father – who's only been Batman for a mere six months –must figure out how to return him to his own time. Over the course of the next week, Damian discovers that Mexican gangsters do not mess around, that social workers find Bruce annoying, that Bruce might be a little messed up, and that crystal chandeliers create the fondest memories. Oh. And Alfred has hair. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13515501

Title: A hundred miles through the desert Summary: Finding himself nearly three decades into the past hadn't been part of Jason's plans for the day, but he could manage. Having no idea how he got there, no clear path home and a recently orphaned Bruce Wayne determined to drag Jason into his search for his parents' killer - that might be a little more complicated. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18197330

Title: And They’re Only Getting Better Summary: 90's!Tim Drake wakes up in his Red Robin body. Exhausted from a YJ mission, he chooses to focus on getting through a normal day so as not to disrupt things for his future self. But, y'know, his way. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10522401

Title: A Time to Reflect Summary: Bruce finds himself stuck in the past, and while waiting for the league to pick him up, struggles to get along with his past self. Plus being in a practically empty manor is a bigger adjustment than he'd like to admit. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20156707

Title: Back to the Past Summary: Bruce is Robin, his dad isn't Batman though, despite how similar the outfits are. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237258

Title: Careful what you wish for Summary: Sometimes, Batman can’t help but miss the time when Dick was the one and only Robin. In a world with magical imps, he should have known better. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15009647

Title: Choose - Lose Summary: Tim looked to the empty space where the time traveler had stood, a forgettable man with a forgettable face in a forgettable shabby brown suit, and had made his unforgettable offer. You can save him. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18320876

Title: Cocoa in April Summary: There are strict rules when it comes to time-traveling. But when Dick is faced with an adorable young Bruce when he's accidentally sent back to 1988, he can't resist a conversation. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16888914

Title: death sucks (and then you live) Summary: Red Hood is starting to put some serious plans in motion when he's attacked by a not-so-welcome blast from the past. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15532380

Title: Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep Summary: I am not here I do not sleep. Terry wants to say he's okay with cemeteries. But taking your kinda boss, kinda mentor, kinda surrogate father-figure to his creepy family cemetery does not make him feel good. He didn't realize just how much Bruce mourns. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19378990

Title: In my arms Summary: There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could change. Those were the rules of the past. Besides, babies cried all the time, even if this was less a cry and more of an angry wail from a little one pushed past its limits. But still. He should have been on his way. He likely would have been, had this been a different home. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20728655

Title: Innocence and experience Summary: What starts as a normal patrol ends up shaking up the world of Young Justice when a boy claiming to be a future Robin drops from the sky while chasing after a man in white. The Team struggles to deal with Damian and the future he represents all the while trying to return him to his rightful time. But for what purpose is this new villain in the past and can Damian and the Team stop him? Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224534

Title: I Used to Be an Adventurer Like You, Then I Took an Arrow to the Knee Summary: Stephanie was just on patrol and now she’s stuck somewhere, sometime, with Bruce. They bleed and bond and mostly try to keep each other alive— you know, just a Tuesday. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16437716

Title: life, if well lived Summary: Jason wakes up from a time-travel mishap to find Thomas and Martha Wayne hovering over him. Just another day in the life, right? ...Not quite. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378512

Title: Lost and Found Summary: Bruce is dying. Slowly, painfully. Not going out in a blaze of glory and defiance for a greater purpose. He's caving under the weight of his own age, under the damage he's done to his heart through the years. Terry can't be by his side constantly to do damage control. More than that, he can't watch it happen with no reprieve. But there's no one else. Terry needs help keeping vigil by an ill Bruce's bedside. But the old man had kids once, didn't he? Are the bridges he burned unable to be rebuilt? As he observes, Terry definitely starts to wonder how this family used to be. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12214692

Title: meet the robins Summary: sad little orphan bruce travels to the future and meets the family he’ll have one day :) too bad he can’t stay forever :( Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2685095

Title: Mint Chocolate Chip Summary: Summer vacations have been going on just long enough for Jason to start getting bored, when he gets an unexpected visitor. From the future. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860545

Title: no one seems to go Summary: “Father,” Bruce mumbles, “I am something of an outlaw.” “Were you always this dramatic, son?” Thomas asks, the bed beneath them shaking as he shifts. “Alfred.” Bruce snorts, shaking his head. “Theatrics are his speciality, remember?” Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663957

Title: Of your own making Summary: Jason died. Then he came back, forty years too late. It takes time to adjust. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20211523

Title: One Big Batty Family Summary: In which Billy Batson and the McGinnis siblings join the present day Batfam. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1133567

Title: Oops I did it again Summary: "You're insane." Or possibly an insane dream from eating chili dogs before bed. Which one Jason wasn't sure since he had yet to pinch himself. "I'm a member of the longer existing Dead Robins Club that doesn't even give you a lousy shirt. Not shocking Jay." Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/936921

Title: Raisin Delight Summary: A year after Jason Todd dies, Tim Drake and Bruce Wayne take on the case when they notice strange occurrences in Gotham city. This has disastrous consequences, but so do most things that Tim gets caught up in, so what's new, really. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15644082

Title: Realization Summary: Bruce makes a discovery while conducting a check-up on Terry. Takes place midway through the "Splicers" episode. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/377468

Title: Strange Manor Summary: Bruce let his eyes close to wallow for a moment in worry and fear for Jason. One second, two, three. He opened his eyes. Time to act. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474308

Title: The Incandescent Rose Summary: Terry McGinnis (the new Batman) impulsively asks marriage proposal advice from his mentor and grumpy father figure Bruce Wayne. When the older man describes a proposal in which he had been yelled at and abandoned, Terry can't help investigate the matter by seeing some of Bruce's most knowledgeable friends and family members. This search prompts someone else into action. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19414228

Title: The Time Travel Problem Summary: Barry Allen and Clark Kent, follow Bruce around during a time travel mission through Gotham City's recent past. If only Bruce would stay focused. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21143081

Title: Younger Bruce, Older Jason Summary: Jason wakes up in the dead of night to an unexpected visitor. (Like you’ve never heard that one before...) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14867975

#dc #dc comics #batman #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #terry mcginnis #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Stephanie Brown #batfamrecs

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longitudinalwaveme · 4 years ago

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Smoke and Mirrors

Dramatis Personae

Wally West, the energetic, enthusiastic, and confident third Flash

Iris Allen, the wife of Barry Allen and a daredevil reporter

Mirror Master, alias Sam Scudder, a talented inventor and the de facto second-in-command of the Rogues

The Top, alias Roscoe Dillon, an arrogant elitist who is suffering from a mysterious disease

Weather Wizard, alias Mark Mardon, a rather dimwitted thief with an obscenely powerful weapon, the weather wand

The Trickster, alias James Jesse, a charming con man with no fashion sense

Script

Act I

(Enter Wally West and Iris Allen, who has just arrived to the Flash Airport of Central City)

Wally: Hi, Aunt Iris! How have you been? It’s so nice to have you back!

Iris: Hi, Wally. It’s good to be back. How’s your Uncle Barry been?

Wally: He’s been great. Really slow since he lost his super speed, of course, but otherwise, he’s fine. He even took down the Trickster all by himself!

Iris: I heard. It made a great story. (Pause) How have he and Bart been doing since I went on my trip?

Wally: Bart’s still really impulsive, and he scared Uncle Barry half to death when he ran to New York City and watched an off-off-Broadway show without telling anyone, but overall he’s been doing great. Uncle Barry enrolled him in sixth grade and he’s become friends with this girl named Carol and this boy named Preston, and he’s finally kind of adjusting to life outside the speed force. He’s still not crazy about Irey and Jai, though-he thinks they’re annoying tagalongs. Oh, and he discovered anchovy pizza for the first time, and, for some reason, he loves it! He’s eaten 45 slices in the past two days, and Uncle Barry says that he thinks he’ll single-handedly keep the neighborhood pizza place in business. (Pause) How was your trip?

Iris: I loved it! There’s nothing quite like the thrill of investigating the government of Kandaq.

Wally: But isn’t Kandaq led by Black Adam?

Iris: Yes. That’s why it was so much fun to investigate what he’s been up to! Before I did some snooping around, no one knew what he was doing because everyone was too scared to check, so I was able to write the biggest exposé of my career and take down a supervillain at the same time. It was awesome! I even got to interview Captain Marvel after he rescued me from Black Adam.

Wally: No wonder you won a Pulitzer. (Pause) So, besides risking your life, did you do anything else in Kandaq? I’ve heard it has delicious food.

Iris: (Laughs) Of course you would focus on the food.

Wally: Well, is it as good as Dick told me?

Iris: Actually, yes. The spices in particular are delicious-and unique to the country, too!

Wally: I’ll be right back. (Wally exits, then rapidly re-enters) That was delicious!

Iris: That’s my Wally. (Pause) And to finish answering your question, besides eating and investigating, I did a lot of sightseeing and even more souvenir-buying.

Wally: Sounds fun!

Iris: It was. (Pause) And in speaking of souvenirs….. (Pulls t-shirt out of bag) This is for you.

Wally: (takes shirt, reads) “I stood in the presence of the all-powerful Black Adam and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.” (Laughs) Thanks, Aunt Iris! I love it!

Iris: I thought you might. I also got a doll of Isis for Irey, a book on Kandaq’s history for Jai, a longer book on the same subject for your Uncle Barry, a necklace for Linda, a fan for Joan, a scrapbook for Jay, and Captain Marvel’s signature and promise to visit our house for Bart.

Wally: Sweet! (Pause) Do you have all your bags?

Iris: Yes, I do.

Wally: Then let’s get you home! (Pause, then in “official” voice) The West Delivery Service will get you there in three seconds, or your money back!

Iris: (Laughs) Definitely my Wally.

(Both Exit)

Act II

(Top is onstage, sitting at table and talking on the phone)

Top: (on the phone) Greetings, my darling. How are you? (Pause) Excellent. I’m glad to hear it. How fares the mission? (Pause) What sort of complications? You know as well as I do that I haven’t much time. If you do not find a cure soon, my powers will quite literally be the death of me. We do not have time for failure! (Pause) I’m sorry, honeybunch. I did not mean to snap at you. I am simply anxious. Even I cannot come out on top in a battle with the grave. (Pause) Of course I trust you, sweetums. Remember though, my darling, if my calculations are correct, I only have a month left. We must get the cure! (Pause) Well that, at least, is good news. If Allen likes you, it will not be long before he is willing to trust you enough to help you find the cure. (Pause) I love you, dearest. Farewell. (Puts phone away and puts on earmuffs) And now to enjoy my meal in peace.

(Enter Trickster, Mirror Master, and Weather Wizard)

Weather Wizard: So, how’d you guys find me?

Trickster: It’s simple, Wiz! We followed the reports of snowstorms in July.

Mirror Master: You aren’t exactly subtle, Mardon.

Weather Wizard: Fair enough. I guess being able to control the weather doesn’t leave much room for subtlety. (Pause) So, what do you two want?

Mirror Master: Your help. If there’s anyone who can keep the Flash away from our heists, it’s you. You’re more powerful than all of us-even me.

Weather Wizard: I know.

Trickster: And you’re modest, too.

Weather Wizard: Hey, if you could control the weather with a flick of the wrist, you’d be a little arrogant, too.

Trickster: Fair enough. (Pause) Say, last I heard, your wand was busted. How’d you get it working again?

Weather Wizard: (Defensively) None of your business. I just did, okay?

Trickster: (Suspiciously) Oh, really? Then let me see the wand.

Weather Wizard: No! You can’t touch it!

Trickster: Why not?

Weather Wizard: Because it’s mine, and you aren’t gonna touch it!

Trickster: (Grabs wand) Too late! I already have it!

Weather Wizard: Give it back! (Tries to grab wand, but fails and falls on his face)

Trickster: All right, Mr. Weather Wand. Make it rain! Bippity boppity boo! (Waves wand, nothing happens) That’s funny. I thought you said you fixed the wand, Wiz.

Weather Wizard: (Gets to his feet and grabs the wand back) Okay, so I exaggerated about being able to fix it. I’ve used the weather wand long enough that I was able to do a patch job and get it to make some snow, but it’s pretty much useless for any other form of weather. I can’t even make it whip up a decent blizzard!

Mirror Master: All you can make is snow? (Trickster notices the Top)

Weather Wizard: (Weakly) Yeah.

Mirror Master: Well, that’s just great. Here I was thinking that we had tornadoes, lighting, and hail on our side, and all we have is a glorified snow machine! (Pause) And when were you planning on mentioning the fact that you can’t make anything but snow, anyway? When the Flash showed up to take us to jail?

Weather Wizard: Well, to be honest, I hadn’t really thought out that far. I was trying to save face, not come up with a battle plan.

Mirror Master: (Despondently) There goes my Ferrari.

Trickster: Don’t give up on the Ferrari just yet, Sam! I have a way to salvage our heist!

Mirror Master: James, I already told you. I am not going to use a “whoopie cushion of doom” to stop the Flash. Unlike you, I have some dignity.

Trickster: First, the Whoopie Cushion of Doom is high comedy, and you should be honored that I offered to let you use it. Second, that’s not it.

Mirror Master: Then what is it?

Trickster: It’s the Top! He’s sitting right over there! (Points to Top)

Mirror Master: (Surprised) So he is.

Weather Wizard: What’s he doing here? I thought he and Golden Glider were in Hawaii on the fifth anniversary of their first date or something.

Mirror Master: Who knows with those two. Maybe they came home early.

Trickster: Came home early ? They never went ! They’ve been in Central City this whole time!

Weather Wizard: They have? But then why did they tell everyone that they were on vacation?

Mirror Master: Probably so they could spend time together without Captain Cold breathing down their necks. Given how overprotective he is, if I was dating Lisa, I would probably pretend to be out of the city, too. It’s hard to have romantic moments when you know that her big brother’s watching and will maim you if you look at her funny.

Trickster: Nah, that’s not it. If Roscoe was afraid of Captain Cold, he wouldn’t challenge his authority all the time. I think they’re planning something, something they want to keep secret from the rest of us, and I want to find out what it is. (Taps Top on shoulder) Hiya, Top!

Top: (Takes off earmuffs; Aside) Why me? (To Trickster) What do you want?

Trickster: Well, Mirror Master wants a Ferrari, and I want some excitement, so we need your help to rob the jewelry store on Fifth and Main.

Top: I am afraid that you will be disappointed. I am quite busy, and am being pressed to the top of my bent. I have no time for frivolities, Giovanni.

Weather Wizard: Giovanni? Who’s Giovanni?

Trickster: Me.

Mirror Master: You gave the Top an alias when he asked for your real name?

Trickster: (“Offended”) No! I’d never do anything like that! (Pause) I didn’t give him an alias when he asked for my real name. I gave you two an alias!

Weather Wizard: Your real name’s Giovanni?

Trickster: Yep! Giovanni Giuseppi. My family is Italian.

Mirror Master: Then why do you always go by James Jesse?

Trickster: Because Jesse was our family’s stage name from the circus. Since we used an alias in our performances, I got used to being called James, so I eventually decided to just start using it as my regular name. Besides, it’s easier to say than Giovanni Giuseppi.

Mirror Master: Well, whoever you are, clearly, your plan failed. Dillon doesn’t want to get involved in our plan, and so it’ll be a bust.

Trickster: (Aside) Oh, ye of little faith. (To Mirror Master) I’ll be able to get him to come around. Trust me.

Mirror Master: Forgive me if I’m less than convinced. (Trickster walks over to Top)

Trickster: (To Top) What if I told you that there would be something in it for you?

Top: I would still refuse. As I already told you, I am quite preoccupied. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going home.

Trickster: (Stopping Top) Top, old buddy, just hear me out. If you don’t like it, I promise you can leave, but you’ve gotta at least learn what it is.

Top: We are not “old buddies”, but, since you seem determined to annoy me until I listen to what you have to say, I suppose I will give in to the inevitable and allow you to speak. But be quick about it. I am giving you five minutes- tops .

Trickster: You know what? Never mind. It was silly of me to think you would be motivated by something as small as an engagement ring. (Moves out of Top’s way; To Mirror Master and Weather Wizard) Come on, guys, let’s go. I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with something else.

Top: What was that about an engagement ring?

Trickster: Oh, you wouldn’t be interested in it, I’m sure.

Top: You are mistaken. Do tell me what you think I will get out of this heist.

Trickster: Are you sure? If you really are busy, I don’t want to bother you.

Top: No, no. I am fine. Please, tell me what you mean.

Trickster: Well, if you insist…..A few months ago, Lisa told me that she saw the perfect engagement ring at the jewelry store that we’re planning to rob, and that she would be thrilled if you proposed to her with it. But like I said, if you don’t want to help us….

Top: (Quickly) If it will please Lisa, I would very much like to help ensure that you come out on top .

Trickster: Great! Glad to have you aboard, pal!

Mirror Master: (Draws Trickster aside) How could you have talked to Glider “a few months ago”? You spent the last six months on a cross-country swindling trip and didn’t get back until three weeks ago!

Trickster: (Aside to Mirror Master) That’s right…..but he doesn’t know that.

Mirror Master: (Aside to Trickster) Clever.

Trickster: (Aside to Mirror Master) I know, right? (Aloud) So, what’s the plan?

Act III

(Enter Wally and Iris)

Wally: Is there anything else you need me to do, Aunt Iris?

Iris: Wally, you’ve already gotten me home from the airport, unpacked all my bags, put everything away, pulled everything out when you put everything away wrong, put everything away in the right places, delivered my letter to your Grandpa Ira in Florida, fixed my car, and repainted the garage. You’ve done enough.

Wally: Aww, it was nothing, Aunt Iris.

Iris: It wasn’t nothing. That was a lot of work, and I really appreciate it. (Pause) By the way, you haven’t eaten much since you brought me home. You should probably get some food.

Wally: Good idea, Aunt Iris! (Wally exits, then quickly re-enters) I love Japanese food!

Iris: Did you really run all the way to Japan just to get food? Wally: Why not? I can get there and back in three seconds!

Iris: (laughs) Oh, Wally. You’ve gotta stop doing that before it rubs off on Bart.

Wally: I think it might be too late for that. He’s already running to New York City to watch off-off-Broadway, after all.

Iris: I know, but now that Barry doesn’t have his super speed, we need to dissuade him from doing that again. We can’t be calling you all the time because we can’t bring him back when he disappears to another continent. Without at least one parent with super speed, he needs to stay close to home so that we can help him if he gets into trouble.

Wally: I don’t mind bringing him home.

Iris: Yes, but I’m pretty sure your boss will mind if you have to keep leaving work to bring Bart home from Namibia or Laos or Bithynia.

Wally: But he knows I’m the Flash! I have to leave work all the time!

Iris: True, but there’s a difference between leaving work to stop crime or save people and leaving work to track down your cousin who went on a joyride.

Wally: Yeah, you probably have a point there.

Iris: As soon as he and Barry get home from their trip to the park, I’ll have Barry sit him down and have a little chat with him about running off to other states or foreign countries-assuming that he can focus long enough to get the message, that is.

Wally: Hey, do you mind if I stick around until they get back? I wanted to talk to Uncle Barry about the Rogues’ latest escape from jail.

Iris: Of course you can stay here! (Pause) And why didn’t you tell me that the Rogues escaped? That always makes for a good news story!

Wally: I don’t really know a lot about how it happened yet, so I guess it just slipped my mind.

Iris: In that case, I’ll have to do some investigating to find out how….after Barry, Bart, and I have our little chat, of course.

Wally: Have I ever told you that you’re awesome, Aunt Iris?

Iris: Not lately.

Wally: Well, you’re awesome. (Phone rings) Sorry! I have to get that! (Pulls out phone) Hello? (Pause) Oh, hi, Mrs. Rowen. Why are you calling? (Pause) Suspension? Why? They’re only kindergartners! (Pause) They did what? (Pause) Well, yes, I’m sure that the school having all its windows broken by dual sonic booms would be problematic, but they don’t know how to control their speed. I know they didn’t do it maliciously. (Pause) $600,000? Wow….That is a lot of money. I’m really sorry. I didn’t even know they were moving at supersonic speeds yet. Did anyone get hurt? (Pause) Two teachers are going to need stitches? Oh, no. I’m really sorry. I’m really, really, really sorry. (Pause) Yes, of course I’ll come meet with you. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. I’ll be right there. Bye. (Puts phone away) Looks like I won’t be able to talk to Uncle Barry. My kids shattered all the windows at the elementary school when they accidentally created a sonic boom, and now I have to meet with their principal. I swear, parenting super-powered children is a million times harder than fighting supervillains. At least with supervillains, I don’t have to pay for the damages that they cause. I’ve gotta run. Bye!

(Exit Wally)

Iris: It’s at times like these that I’m glad Bart stayed in the Speed Force until he was old enough to know how to control his speed. (Pause) In speaking of Bart, there he and his dad are now. Hopefully, Bart will cooperate with the limits he sets on his travel, because if not, I’m not sure that Barry and I will be able to enforce them. Even Wally wasn’t as impulsive as Bart is.

Act IV (Enter Top, Trickster, Mirror Master, and Weather Wizard. Trickster is wielding a fearsome rubber chicken and a kazoo)

Mirror Master: Did everyone make it through the Mirror Realm all right?

Top: I feel more than a little nauseous, but otherwise, I am fine, since we managed to arrive at our intended destination.

Mirror Master: What are you implying?

Top: Nothing. It is simply that I would feel far more comfortable if I knew that the realm through which we traveled so shortly ago was controlled by a man who had at least completed his secondary education and who hailed from somewhere other than the part of town colloquially known as “Skid Row”. In all candor, your credentials do not inspire confidence.

Mirror Master: Hey, I might not have your fancy education, but I’m just as smart as you. How else do you think I discovered an entire alternate dimension?

Top: My supposition would be that the goddess Fortuna smiled upon an unworthy candidate with the freakish caprice for which she is known.

Mirror Master: Are you saying I just got lucky?

Top: Indeed.

Mirror Master: You’ve got some nerve, Dillon! I worked for years to learn how the Mirror Realm worked! Just because I’m from Skid Row doesn’t mean I’m stupid!

Top: My experience, and the experiences of my father, would suggest otherwise.

Trickster: Girls, girls, girls . You’re both pretty. Now, let’s start the heist already! I already deactivated the alarms, but they’ll come back on eventually. And besides, I’m bored!

Weather Wizard: Trickster’s right. I already created enough snow to slow down the cops, but that won’t hold them forever, and it won’t hold our friend in the red pajamas at all. We need to hurry.

Mirror Master: Well, if the Top is ready, so am I.

Top: I was not the one delaying us, but I am quite prepared to proceed in our enterprise. (To Trickster, as Weather Wizard and Mirror Master start grabbing jewelry) Where is the engagement ring that my beloved desires?

Trickster: (Looks around at the various rings) Let’s see…..I know it’s around here somewhere ….. (Finds a particularly ostentatious ring and points at it) Oh! There it is!

Top: Are you certain that that is what she desires? It seems a bit gaudy for her tastes.

Trickster: Of course I’m sure! (Aside) And I’m not lying. I’m sure she’ll hate it, and I’m sure that learning that he got outsmarted by a circus brat will take Mr.Phony British Accent down a few pegs. He’s smart, but he’s not nearly as smart as he thinks he is.

Top: You have my gratitude, Giovanni. (Takes ring) Is there nothing that you are inclined to take?

Trickster: Not really. I’m here to put on a show, not to take money. (Pulls out bottle of paint) Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to replace the bathroom sinks’ water with paint.

(Exit Trickster; Top analyzes jewelry and slowly begins to select the sophisticated jewelry)

Mirror Master: (To Weather Wizard) I know I said that I was getting a Ferrari, but I’ve been thinking it over, and I think I might get a Lamborghini instead. What do you think?

Weather Wizard: Which one’s faster?

Mirror Master: I’m not sure. Except for a three-day period where I was in possession of W. W. Wiggins’s stolen Ferrari, I’ve never actually owned a car.

Weather Wizard: (Surprised) You’ve never owned a car? How’s that possible? Before I became the Weather Wizard, I was the world’s biggest loser, and even I had a car. I mean, granted, I crashed it into a tree, but I had one!

Mirror Master: (Defensive) I grew up in the inner city. Have you seen the traffic in the interior of Central City? It’s a nightmare! There’s a reason everyone takes the subway to work. The traffic gets so jammed that cars are basically useless.

Weather Wizard: But you still live in the inner city. If there’s no use for one, why do you want it so bad?

Mirror Master: (Angrily) Because I’m tired of being poor! I’ve spent my entire life either in jail or in tiny two-room apartments on Baker Street, and I’m sick of it! I’m sick of always being behind on rent, I’m sick of wearing other people’s cast-offs, and I’m SICK of Roscoe implying that I’m stupid! I want a car because it would be a sign that I finally have enough money to get off of Skid Row! People would have to give me some respect then!

Weather Wizard: If it makes you feel any better, without the weather wand, nobody gives me any respect, either. The only reason that I’m here right now is to earn back the reputation I lost when it broke. I don’t really need the money.

Mirror Master: You don’t?

Weather Wizard: Nah. I won a $20,000 poker game a few weeks ago.

Mirror Master: But you’re terrible at poker!

Weather Wizard: (Shrugs) I was playing against an 18-year-old who had just inherited his daddy’s company and had never played a game in his life.

Mirror Master: And Dillon says I’M the one who gets lucky!

Weather Wizard: Don’t take it personally, Sam. He’s a jerk to everyone-except Lisa, that is.

Mirror Master: What does she see in him, anyway?

Weather Wizard: That, my friend, is one of the great mysteries of life. He’s not even that attractive!

Top: (Comes over) It is not so mysterious as that. Unlike the rest of you ruffians, I am a man of birth, breeding, and education. Our relationship is a great boon for her social status, especially given the “trailer trash” from whence she comes-to use a colloquialism, of course-and I am certainly better company than any of you could hope to provide. Her selection of me as a paramor proves that she, alone among you “Rogues”, has taste.

Mirror Master: (Sarcastically) Yeah, you’re a real prince, Dillon.

(Alarm goes off)

Weather Wizard: Oh, no! The alarm! We must’ve lost track of time, and now the Flash is gonna show up and make me a laughingstock all over again!

(Enter Trickster)

Trickster: Where’s the Flash? He should be here by now!

Mirror Master: Who cares? Let’s get outta here!

Trickster: Wait! I want to fight the Flash! It’s no fun if I don’t get to fight the Flash!

Mirror Master: Trickster, we got what we came for! Now let’s go!

(All exit quickly, Mirror Master dragging a flailing Trickster)

Act V

(Mirror Master, Weather Wizard, Top, and Trickster are onstage, sitting. Trickster is pouting)

Weather Wizard: We...we actually did it?

Top: Obviously. We are here and not in jail, are we not?

Weather Wizard: I know that, I just can’t believe that we actually did it! We never get away with heists this big!

Mirror Master: You’re right, Mardon. It’s been over four years since we had a heist that the Flash didn’t stop….and we got away with it!

Weather Wizard: So, what do we do now?

Mirror Master: I….I don’t know. It’s been years since we got away with anything, so I haven’t had a plan beyond “get away” in years.

Weather Wizard: I guess you can buy your car now.

Mirror Master: Yeah. I guess so. (Sighs) It’s so weird that we’re not in jail right now.

Weather Wizard: Tell me about it. I haven’t had a run of luck this good in ages!

Top: It is not so peculiar as you are treating it. After all, I accompanied you on this heist, something I have not often done. It is not, therefore, terribly surprising that you were successful-I enabled you to come out on top .

Mirror Master: Dillon, do the world a favor and shut up. I’m not in the mood for your attitude.

Weather Wizard: (To Trickster) Hey, James, why are you so upset? We just got away with a million dollars! You should be on cloud nine!

Trickster: I’m upset because the Flash didn’t show up! He’s what makes crime exciting! Since he wasn’t there and we did it at night, I didn’t have an audience, and it wasn’t any fun! Besides, escaping changes up the game. How are we supposed to start the game over if we don’t get captured and have to escape again?

Weather Wizard: Now that you mention it, I did feel like our heist was lacking in that rush. It’s hard to feel excited when there’s no danger that you might be stopped.

Mirror Master: Yeah. It’s not enjoyable to beat him when he doesn’t even show up. (Pause) But hey, at least we’re rich now, right?

Weather Wizard: (Without confidence) Right. And I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something to do. It’ll be great!

Trickster: (Petulantly) No, it won’t. The game’s been ruined!

Mirror Master: How has it been ruined? You don’t need the Flash to trick people.

Trickster: No, I don’t, but it’s not the same. I came back to Central City to play the game, and now the game has been ruined because the Flashes won’t play!

Weather Wizard: (Too cheerfully) Hey, why don’t we go get some ice cream? That’ll make us all feel better.

Mirror Master: Sure, why not?

Trickster: I guess so. But only if I can get gummy bears and rainbow sprinkles.

Top: I will pass on that offer. I have fulfilled my part of the agreement and must get back to work.

Weather Wizard: Okay. More for us, I guess.

Mirror Master: (Mutters) Good riddance.

Trickster: I had better get two dips, too.

(Exit Trickster, Mirror Master, and Weather Wizard)

Top: Ahh. Peace and quiet at last. (Pulls out cell phone) Hello, Lisa, darling. This is Roscoe. How fares the mission? (Pause) Allen is willing to help you get the cure? Good. Good. Very good. You, my sweet, are a veritable Sarah Siddons. (Pause) Oh, my apologies. I thought that was common knowledge. Sarah Siddons was a famous Shakespearean actress who was renowned for her life-like portrayal of Lady Macbeth in the 19th century, and you are quite as talented an actress. (Pause) Oh! I almost forgot. I have pleasant news as well, honeybunch. I appropriated the engagement ring that you so desired! (Pause) Wait, you never picked out a ring for that purpose? My profuse apologies, sweetums. It seems that I was misinformed. (Pause) Don’t worry, my dearest darling. The pain has been quite manageable, and given what you have just told me, I have no fear for my life. (Pause) Thank you, darling. Your snuggle-bunny loves you, too. Good-bye. (Puts phone away) TRICK-STER!

(Scene change. Enter Wally, in jewelry store)

Wally: Aw, come on! I’m getting sued by the school district AND I let the Rogues get away? Man, this just isn’t my day! (Pause) Oh, well. If there’s one thing that Uncle Barry’s taught me, it’s that a true hero never gives up. I’m sure to find them eventually-especially since they aren’t exactly subtle. (Pause) And if there’s one good thing about all this, it’s that things can’t possibly get worse! I’ll go get a quick snack, and then I’ll find Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry so that we can take down those Rogues- in a Flash!

#wally west #flash rogues #dc comics #fanfic

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aluthorand-asupercorp · 5 years ago

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Prompt from: carterkane008

Can u write one where lena goes to the wave rider (set post hour 2 of the crisis)Like everyone is worried about kara since she didnt cry or anything after see her planet and the universe gets destroyed then alex and lena teleport into the waverider and when everyone talks to alex about how worried they r about lena. And lena getting angry about how so many people knew kara for years,and alex is like kara is very strong but to everyone's surprise she breaks down in front of lena hugging her.

Kara leaned over the screen, watching it again and again: the disappearance of Argo and her Earth. The same wave of antimatter erased her people every few seconds, and she restarted it when it finished. Her home, her world, what was left of her homeworld, all erased like they’d never existed. The reverse of the big bang, right before her eyes. Kara swiped the screen and made it begin again. People were speaking behind her, but she paid them no mind. She tried to imagine her mother’s last moments. Had she been scared? Had she been brave? Had she thought about Kara before she had gone? Clark had told her about how Alura told he and Lois to save Jon while they could, but Kara really hoped her mom had a moment to worry about her. Just one. The first tear tried to fall. Kara squared her jaw, ground her teeth, and waited for the moment to pass. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t.

“You know,” the Waverider drawled, “watching it doesn’t change it. You might as well stop.” Kara swiped the screen again, and a small crack appeared where she pushed down too hard. “Easy there, Superpower girl. I didn’t mean it.” Kara had had just about enough of Leonard Snart’s Snark™. She stared at the crack in the screen and considered pushing down on it, just out of a need to cause more damage to something, to even let an inanimate object feel a fraction of what she did. Oliver and Barry had known these things were coming for years. Last year, when they met The Monitor, she knew something was coming, but if she had been able to prepare, she would have done something, anything. Now almost everyone was gone.

“Hey,” a low voice asked behind her. “Are you okay?”

Kara cleared her throat before she turned. She knew who was there. Kate had abandoned her cowl, knowing it served no purpose in this group of strangers. She trusted Kara, so if they knew Supergirl’s secret identity, Batwoman’s must be safe as well. “I’m fine,” Kara lied. She could see the pity on Kate’s face. Kate Kane, the Dark Knight, the fierce protector of Gotham, pitied Kara. Kara wasn’t used to being pitied, not since she’d sent away Mon-El.

“That sounds like a lie,” Kate said quietly, making sure not to draw attention from those around them. “Trust me, I am the Royal Highness of saying I’m fine when I’m not.”

Kara nodded. She didn’t want to lie to Kate; she didn’t want to tell the truth either. Not right now. “I am no stranger to losing those close to me. There’s work to do, though.”

Kate leaned a little closer to Kara. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but everyone is kind of watching you.” Kara looked over Kate’s shoulder just in time to see Clark looking away. He was the only one who could hear what Kate had said, but she accidentally caught the eyes of Iris, Lois, and Barry. The four of them had been huddled together, talking about Kara. She had been so focused on the screen she hadn’t even heard them.

“Of course, they are,” Kara mumbled. She raised her voice, “I’m fine, okay. Everyone can stop watching me like I might explode!”

Mia folded her arms and smirked at Kara. “Yep, that will convince them.”

Kara heard a portal closing in the hall of the Waverider. “Uh oh,” Leonard Snark mumbled through the speaker system. Everyone’s attention left Kara as they waited to see who was in the hallway.

“Just calm down!” Alex’s voice drifted into the bridge, “Don’t be so angry with us, please!” Kara heard heels clicking closer, along with two racing heartbeats.

The voice Kara had been hoping to hear entered the room before its owner did. “Where is she? How dare you? I could be helping J’onn. I could be guiding the refugees. How dare you bring me here?” Lena turned sharply into the bridge of the Waverider.

“This looks like trouble,” Leonard gloated.

Lena’s eyes searched the room, landing quickly on Kara by the main computer. She took in Kate, and how close Kate was standing to Kara. “Supergirl,” Lena growled, storming through the groups milling about the bridge. “What is the meaning of this?”

Kate stepped in front of Kara, blocking Lena’s way to her. “I don’t know who you are-“ Kate began, but Lena cut in.

“And I don’t care if you ever find out, Bat Lady.” Lena sneered. “But if you don’t move, you’re about to find out exactly how long I’ve put into combat training.”

Kara put a gentle hand on Kate’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Kate,” she said quietly. Kate stepped to the side, arms crossed angrily over her bat symbol. She growled, “It’s Batwoman, thanks,” but no one but Kara could hear it over Lena’s rage.

“Those people are afraid, Supergirl,” Lena continued, zeroing in on Kara and pushing angrily on the symbol of the House of El. “You don’t get to have your sister fetch me. There is so much to do, and I didn’t help those people just to end up on some fucking ship while you all hide from this crisis. Are you safe here? Is that what this is?” Kara looked at the ground. “I knew you could be cowardly,” Lena raged on, “but taking all your closest Superfriends and hiding them here?” Lena looked at the people she didn’t know. “I’ve got to say, you seem to be missing a few people.” Lena locked eyes with Kara. “There’s more room here, why don’t you grab a few more precious people while the rest of us suffer in fear?”

Sara looked ready to step between Kara and Lena, but Kara raised a hand and shook her head. The motion did not get by Lena. “Oh, I see. You’re in charge of everyone, right? And all of these people know who you are, don’t they Supergirl?” Lena indicated Ray and the Superman that looked just like him. “These two?” Kara nodded, and Lena continued. “Let me guess, them too?” She gestured to Mia, Lyla, and John, who’s eyes were still red after the loss of Oliver. Kara nodded again. “How long did it take you to tell them? Ten minutes? Maybe an hour? Because they’re not Luthor’s, right?”

Alex had had enough. “Lena, too much.”

“Why, Alex? Because you know this is your fault too? Director of the DEO?”

“We didn’t bring you here for this,” the Monitor’s heavy voice intoned. “You may be the key to helping the paragons save the universe.

“What?” Lena growled, crossing her arms while she glared at Kara, who had still not said a word.

“The Paragons. The heroes who are our last hope. We need your help to determine who our other paragons are. We have four of them.” The Monitor pointed at each of them in turn. “The Paragon of Truth,” he indicated Earth 96 Superman, “the Paragon of Destiny,” Sara Lance, “the Paragon of Courage, and the Paragon of Hope,” The Monitor finally swept his arm towards Kate and then Kara.

“Big surprise you’re not the Paragon of Truth,” Lena cut in. Kara met Lena’s eyes and didn’t look away.

“I believe that together you and the ATOM can find our last three paragons. Together, with them, we can save the Universe.” The Monitor continued like Lena had never cut in.

Lena took a deep breath and let it out heavily. “Okay.” She still stared down Kara, and Kate made a fist. “I’ll help.”

“I’ll show you where we’re working,” Ray said cheerfully, breaking the tension. Lena finally looked away from Kara and followed Ray to the other side of the bridge computer. He began explaining the algorithm they were working on, and Kara let out a shaky breath.

The rest of the bridge cleared out. Most of the heroes spared a glance at Kara, wondering if they should say something to her. “What was that about?” Kate asked as Alex approached them.

“Nothing,” Kara said, eyes down.

“That is not nothing,” Kate glared at Lena, where she and Ray stood side by side, typing into the panel.

“I hurt her. That’s all.”

“Did you break up with her?” Kate asked.

Alex choked on air. “Break up with her? What? They’re best friends.” Alex thought for a second. “Or they were.” Alex rubbed Kara’s shoulder. She missed the disbelieving look Kate gave her. “Are you okay? I’m sorry. I tried to warn her not to go in on you, but you know Lena.”

“I’m okay. I get why she’s mad.” Kara kept her eyes turned down. “I’m gonna go get something to eat while they work.”

“You want us to come with you?” Kate asked.

“No, I’ll be fine. Let me know when they’re done.” Kara left the room, eager to escape the eyes of everyone who was watching her. She didn’t see Lena look at her either.

Kara sat in the cargo hold, knees pulled to her chest, her body as small as she could make it. She was tucked between a box and a wall, with only a few inches left for her to move freely. They’re gone, she thought to herself. They’re all gone. The child Mon-El saved. Her childhood best friend. Her mother, The council. Every Kryptonian in the galaxy except for Clark was gone, and there was no coming back this time. Kara refused to let tears fall, as they tried to fall again. She took a deep, shaky breath. There’s not time for this now. The multiverse needs me. I am the Paragon of Hope. I have to stay hopeful.

“Are you hiding from me?”

Kara scrambled to her feet. Lena was leaning in the doorway of the cargo hold. “Not just you,” Kara mumbled.

“So you can talk.”

“You had a lot to say. It seemed better to just wait.”

Lena watched Kara with scrunched up eyebrows. Her eyes flashed dangerously. “But you had nothing to say for yourself, Paragon of Hope?”

Kara slumped, leaning against the box she’d been sitting behind. “I’m not feeling much hope right now.” Lena eyed Kara. Kara could hear Lena’s heart pounding, and she knew the woman was still angry at her. “Lena could you just-“ Kara paused, worried she was about the make things worse, but Lena didn’t interrupt her. “Could we fight more later? I know that you’re mad, and I do understand why, but I can’t do this right now.”

Lena uncrossed her arms and finally really, truly looked at Kara. “We saved as many people as we could, Supergirl.”

Kara nodded, but her eyes started to water anyway. “Not everyone.”

“We can’t save everyone. Believe me, I’ve tried.” Lena’s eyes flashed a bright green as she thought of Hope, locked away somewhere. Lena realized her plan was foolish, considering that a bigger threat was upon them.

“We couldn’t save Krypton.”

Lena tilted her head. “Krypton has been-“ it finally hit Lena. Krypton might be gone, but not all of it was. “Argo?” Kara nodded. “Oh no, what about your-“

“They’re all gone.” A single tear rolled down Kara’s cheek. “My mom is gone. Everyone is gone.”

“Oh, Kara,” Lena said quietly. She realized it was the first time she had called Kara by her name since the Crisis had begun. Kara swayed and Lena stepped closer to her, throwing her arms around the hero’s waist. Kara put her arms around Lena’s shoulders and let the smaller woman support her wait.

“We’re all that’s left, Clark and I.” The tears fell freely onto Lena’s shirt. Kara burrowed further into Lena’s neck.

“Oh sweetie,” Lena said softly, rubbing Kara’s back under her cape. Lena turned her head, just a bit, and gave Kara the softest kiss on her tear-stained cheek. “I am so sorry.”

Kara froze under Lena’s attention, and she pulled back just a bit. “You don’t have to be here, you don’t have to do this. You’re angry at me, and I understand why.”

“Shhhh,” Lena murmured, as she pulled the woman back into her arms. “There’s time to be mad at you tomorrow, as long as we all live that long. But right now, I’ve got you.”

Kara gripped Lena tighter, and finally cried freely, allowing herself to mourn those she had lost. For the first time since the crisis had begun, she truly felt like the Paragon of Hope. They could do this, all of them.

@carterkane008 I did it!

#crisis on infinite earths #kara danvers #supergirl #kara zor el #kara zor-el #lena luthor #sara lance #supercorp #arrowverse #i write stuff

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everlock101 · 4 years ago

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Invisible

I recently received some compliments on this story so I decided to post here as well as fanfiction.net. This is just a fun little story I had in my head one day. Hope you like it.

I do not own any Flash characters.

.........

Summary: Allie Allen has always felt invisible as Barry Allen’s sister. But two thieves may just alter her life in a big way.

Being able to become invisible is perfectly fitting, I thought to myself as I watched Cisco, Caitlyn, and Wells fuss over Barry. He’d just fought against a metahuman that could control mechanical bees and Caitlin was worrying over him.

Not me. Because I could create force fields and I hadn’t been stung so obviously I hadn’t been hurt.

Except for my dislocated shoulder from where I’d been dropped from about fifteen feet up.

It shouldn’t have surprised me that nothing had changed. Barry was the one who had seen our mother die. Barry was the one who was so smart. Barry was the one who had gotten the scholarships, who had always excelled, who had always been a go-getter.

I just wasn’t like that. I’d been a straight C student, had gone to local community college and worked as a custodian for the university. I hadn’t been the one to have nightmares about our mother’s dead body.

I trudged through the streets, cradling my injured arm, thinking that invisibility seemed moot since no one really noticed me anyway.

Sure, I knew most people felt that way at some point in their lives and sure, I knew I would be missed if I ever did act on the dark thoughts that crept into my mind sometimes at night.

But sometimes, the simple idea of nonexistence was really appealing to me.

Laughter broke me from my rather morbid thoughts. I glanced up to see Saints and Sinners and, seized with a reckless impulse, I walked inside.

This definitely wasn't my scene. Everything was gritty and dark and a cloud of smoke seemed to hang over everything. I coughed and wound my way to the bar.

I wasn't dressed for bar-hopping either. I still wore the loose pants and wrinkled shirt I wore under my super suit. I ordered a drink and downed it, welcoming the numbing sensation in my arm.

And then I heard their voices.

“Well well well, if it isn't Miss Allen,” I groaned quietly before I turned to see Snart and Rory plopping down on either side of me. Despite their criminal nature and the multiple attempts on my life and my brother’s, I actually felt surprisingly safe with Rory's bulk on one side and Snart's icy gaze on the other.

“What do you want?” I asked tiredly as I downed my second shot. I waved for more.

“To know what a pretty thing like you is doing in a place like this,” Snart continued, sipping his beer and gazing at me curiously.

“This ain't your scene, doll,” Rory added in a grumble.

“How do you know?” I shot back. I finished three more shots in rapid succession and felt pleasantly buzzed. The alcohol made me feel warm and fuzzy and the pain in my arm was a distant memory. Fortunately, my powers hadn’t stripped away my ability to be drunk.

“Because you're a goody-two-shoes like your brother,” Rory grunted. I let out a derisive laugh.

“Let's not bring up my brother,” I said darkly, polishing off another shot.

“Touchy subject?” I didn't respond as I downed another drink.

“What happened to your shoulder, kid?” Snart asked. I shrugged without thinking and let out a hiss as the pain flared back briefly. Suddenly, Rory’s hand landed on my dislocated shoulder. I winced.

“Dislocated,” Rory grunted. Snart’s brow furrowed and he leaned in behind me to examine it.

“I’m fine. I can take care of it,” I replied.

“Take a deep breath,” Rory ordered.

“Wha-” A second later, there was a crunch and pain flooded through my arm, shoulder, and chest. Snart’s hand clapped over my mouth and I screamed into it.

I dropped my head on the bar as Rory let go of my arm. I breathed deeply for a few moments until the pain subsided to a dull throb.

“You’re a dick,” I groaned.

“You’re welcome,” Rory shot back. Snart waved for some more shots and I eagerly downed another.

…

An hour later, I hung off of Rory as Snart picked the lock on my door. I giggled.

“I'm so glad you know how to do that,” I slurred. “Finding my key sounds like a headache.” The door opened and Rory hauled me inside. I giggled again as my feet left the floor.

“Wheee!!” I laughed as Rory carried me through my small apartment to my bedroom. He sat me on my bed where I flopped back and blew hair from my face.

Snart pulled off my shoes and Rory undid my braid, his hands surprisingly gentle for their size. Carefully, they maneuvered me out of my jacket and overshirt so I was left in my jeans and a tank top.

I tried to think of the last time anyone had treated me so gently but couldn’t. Tears pricked my eyes as I thought of waking up to a cold, empty apartment and a cold empty life.

My loneliness came swiftly, sweeping over me like a dark, heavy blanket. Tears dripped down my temples.

“Kid?” Snart had asked me something. I just turned away from him. I didn't want them to see me cry.

“Kid?” Snart’s voice softened and I felt a hand touch my hair.

Rory came to my other side and touched my hand lightly.

I blamed the alcohol.

All of it came out in a rush of choked tears. All the dreadful feelings of being perfectly completely invisible, even without my powers in the mix. I cried and cried until I felt empty but clean.

“Please don't leave.” The words slipped from my tongue before I drifted off.

…

I woke with a dull headache but I was warm and comfortable. I cracked open an eye. The room was dim which I was grateful for. Someone shifted in the bed beside me and I blushed, remembering what I had asked Mick Rory and Leonard Snart of all people.

What was even stranger was that they had listened.

I looked over my shoulder to see the broad, bulky outline of Rory. He was still asleep, his warm breath fanning over my neck and shoulders. Snart was nowhere to be seen.

I carefully got out of bed and left my room, stopping only to hit the bathroom quickly.

Something smelled wonderful, coaxing me through the apartment. I stepped into the kitchen to see fresh croissants and double chocolate chunk muffins steaming on the counter.

Snart stood at the coffee maker, one of my Flash mugs held to his lips. He quirked an eyebrow at me over the cup and held out another steaming mug to me. I eagerly accepted the coffee and the aspirin he pushed my way. I took two pills, grabbed a chocolate muffin and leaned against the counter beside him.

It seemed terribly domestic; the two of us standing here in soft silence, drinking coffee and waiting for the morning to fully rise. It felt nice. Snart’s presence filled the little kitchen making the usual lonely room feel a bit brighter. I suddenly snorted.

Snart, who seemed perfectly content to communicate nonverbally, quirked his eyebrow at me again.

“I'm just imagining Barry or Joe's reaction if they walked in right now.” I laughed again but it was a bit bitter this time (they hadn't visited my apartment since I'd moved in) and Leonard snorted as well.

Rory stumbled in, eyes still closed. He banged his hip against the counter but still managed to fumble his way to the third mug of coffee. He gave us a grunt of greeting before bumping his lips against Snart's in a short good morning kiss. I stared in amazement as Rory, a convicted arsonist/murderer/thief curled up on Snart's shoulder and Snart, convicted master thief and murderer let him, and drank his coffee.

“This is so weird.”

…

When I returned home from work, I wasn’t expecting to step into the smell of chicken and rice. I sniffed curiously as I hung up my jacket and purse.

I paused and just took in the scene that greeted me from my kitchen. Rory was crouched in front of my oven in flannel pajama bottoms and no shirt. Snart sat on my counter next to a rice cooker that definitely hadn’t come from my kitchen and sipped a Coke.

“Aw, welcome home,” he greeted. Mick glanced over his burned shoulder at me.

“Um, hi?” I dropped my keys into the little mason jar on the counter.

“Mick’s making baked chicken with rice and we’ve got some mixed veggies in the microwave,” he explained. “Hope you like it.”

“Sounds...great…” I blinked a few times as if expecting the scene to suddenly vanish. Snart just raised an eyebrow.

“What? You asked us to stay.” I stared at him and felt my lips turn upward.

The food was delicious. My powers, like Barry’s, required a lot of upkeep. I burned a lot more calories than before the accident even when I didn’t use my powers.

I polished off my plate and eyed the last bit of rice and veggies.

“You can have the rest,” Rory told me. I eagerly scooped them onto my plate and devoured them. I was still hungry and tried to think about what else might be in my fridge.

“Are you still hungry?” Snart asked. I flushed.

“I have to eat a lot to keep up my powers. Barry has to eat more though.” My jaw clicked shut. I was letting myself get too comfortable with criminals who had it out for my brother.

“How much a day?” Rory asked, sounding curious. I shrugged.

“Well, I usually don’t eat enough so I can’t be sure.” Rory sat back tapping his fingers on the table, looking thoughtful.

“Looks like you just gave Mick a challenge,” Snart chuckled.

“What do you mean?”

“Mick loves cooking. He’ll enjoy figuring out how much you need to eat.” I glanced between them hesitantly.

“So...you two are...I mean...you’re gonna stick around.” I pushed the carrot around my plate.

“What better way to learn about our enemy?’ My head jerked up but Rory and Snart both had amused glints in their eyes. I threw my napkin at them.

....

We quickly settled into an routine. Rory and Snart slept over most nights, letting me know whenever they couldn’t make it over. It was easy to feel comfortable with them and I often worried that I was going to hell.

But Rory’s cooking was probably worth it. He prepared huge meals, figuring out how much I needed to eat on a regular basis and what I liked to eat. They made me laugh and I felt more comfortable with them then I’d felt with Barry in years.

...

The fight had been bad. A new meta-human had nearly killed Barry and me.

“Barry?! Barry?! Are you alright!” Caitlin’s voice was the loudest but everyone was asking about Barry. I shut my comms off and walked away, not even having to turn invisible to avoid being noticed.

I slumped into my apartment and sagged against the door. Everything just hurt: my three broken fingers, my fractured cheekbone, my dislocated knee, and every scrape, bump, and bruise.

“Doll?” I jerked upright then hissed in pain as my broken ribs twinged. Mick stood in the doorway to the kitchen holding a mixing bowl. He stared at me for a moment.

“Len,” he called. Instantly, Len appeared from the living room. Worry filled his face as his eyes landed on me. He started forward and gently wrapped an arm around my waist.

“Come on, sweetheart.” I almost wanted to cry as we started toward the living room. When Len saw how bad my limp was he simply scooped me up into a bridal hold.

Len carried me into my bathroom and settled me on the closed toilet. Mick appeared a moment later with a first aid kit.

“Ok, we’re going to get you out of this suit, sweetheart.” I nodded and let them maneuver me out of my ripped and blood stained clothes. My fractured wrist gave a particularly nasty twinge.

“Who did this to you?” Mick demanded roughly. I looked up at him and realized that my left eye was beginning to swell shut.

“Meta,” I mumbled. “Jeremy Briggs. He had super strength.” Mick nodded and exchanged an unreadable look with Len.

I sat there in my undergarments as they worked in tandem to get my cleaned and patched up. Thankfully, they gave me some pain pills that worked quickly.

“Alright, come here sweetheart.” Len scooped me back up after he had finished. Mick led us back into my bedroom and pulled some sleep clothes from my dresser. Carefully, gently, they got me into them and settled me into bed. They smoothed the blankets up over my chin.

“Get some rest, doll,” Mick rumbled. I fumbled for their hands.

“Please…” I swallowed the rest of my plea down nervously. They both just smiled.

“I gotta clean up the kitchen,” Mick told me.

“And then we’ll be back, alright sweetheart?” I nodded and Mick gave my uninjured hand a gentle squeeze.

I dozed for a while, listening to them working in the kitchen. Finally, they returned wearing their own pajamas. I stirred as I felt them slipping into bed on either side of me. Their arms crossed over my waist. Len nuzzled his nose into my neck and I felt Mick press a warm kiss to my forehead. I sighed in contentment and easily slipped into sleep.

…

The next morning, I woke abruptly. I sat up, instantly looking for danger. My injuries all protested and I gasped, bending over.

My bedroom door opened and Mick rushed to my side, helping me ease back into the pillows. My bed was empty. That’s what had woken me up.

“Easy, doll. Easy.”

“Where’d-where’d you go?” I gasped through my aching ribs. Mick brushed his fingers through my hair until I finally relaxed.

“Len went out. I was just working on some food for ya.” My stomach clenched painfully. I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. Mick chuckled lightly.

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed my forehead and slipped from my room.

I adjusted myself up against the pillows. He returned a few moments later with a tray full of food and several cups of water and orange juice.

He set the food on my nightstand before sitting beside me.

“Open up,” he said with a teasing glint in his eyes. I smiled weakly as he bgean feeding me. Mick had planned well; preparing only soft foods like eggs and oatmeal and fresh toast.

Eating helped me feel a lot better and I started getting out of bed.

“Hey, what’re ya doin’?” Mick tried to push me back down but I batted his hands away and got to my feet.

“I’m ok. I need to go to the bathroom.” Mick huffed as I started toward the toilet.

When I returned from the bathroom, Len was talking with Mick. My brow furrowed as they quickly stopped when I walked into the room.

“What evil plan are you two concocting?” I asked, with a small laugh.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Len drawled.

“I had to pee,” I huffed. Len pointed and I sighed, sliding back under the covers. Len sat beside me while Mick cleaned up my empty plates and took them to the kitchen.

“How are you feeling?” Len asked quietly. I shrugged. My powers helped me heal faster than normal, but not quite as fast as Barry.

“Not terrible. Really sore but I’m healing up, especially after eating.” Len nodded.

“Good.” Len reached out to touch my chin, his icy eyes carefully examining the healing bruises on my face. “Gave us a good scare there.” I chewed on my lip as his hand fell back to the bed.

“Why?” I asked quietly.

“In case you missed the past few months, we’ve invested a lot into keeping you alive.” He gave me a smirk and a wink. “We’d hate to see that go to waste.” I snorted.

…

Two days later, I heard Jeremy’s name on the news. Curious, I turned up the volume on my TV.

“Jeremy Briggs, a recently captured meta-human, was found dead in his cell last night.” I turned it off and looked toward the kitchen where Mick and Len peeked out. I arched an eyebrow at them. They just looked back innocently and I rolled my eyes.

...

I wasn’t sure when I fell in love with them. But I knew when I realized it.

It was just another day, seven months into this new routine. I woke and shuffled my way into the kitchen. It was Saturday and I’d slept in past even Mick and yet there was coffee and breakfast still waiting for me. I eagerly gulped the hot drink and started munching a doughnut before following the noise of the TV to the living room.

Mick was lounging on my couch, his bare feet propped up on my coffee table, snoring lightly. Len lay across him, focused on the news playing on the TV.

Suddenly, the doughnut stuck in my throat. They looked perfect here in my apartment. The idea of crawling under Len’s legs and curling up against Mick’s side with my coffee sounded so normal and amazing.

My heart dropped to the floor and so did my coffee mug. The shattering sound startled Mick and Len and they both shot up, eyes roving wildly over the scene, always ready for danger. I inhaled sharply as my eyes began to burn. I pressed my now empty hands to my mouth (my doughnut had fallen as well) and clamped my jaw shut to seal in any sob that might escape me.

Because it would be just my luck to fall for two people already in a committed relationship. With each other.

“Kid?” Len asked.

I bolted before he could say anything else. I yanked my purse and keys off their hook and ran outside, my bare feet skidding on the damp metal stairs.

“Allie!” Len and Mick had apparently given chase. I nearly tripped as I hit the pavement and I felt something cut my foot.

“Allie, stop!” They’d gotten closer. They were faster. I’d never make it to my car.

I threw myself off anything that would make my footprints stand out and felt energy rush over me as I became invisible. I quickly stepped out of reach as Len and Mick came to a halt, their heads whipping from side to side.

“Allie!?” They both began to call. I stuffed my wrist to my mouth to muffle my cries and hurried away.

…

I ended up at the police station. I avoided Joe or Barry and managed to get into Singh’s office without being noticed. He was on the phone but his eyebrows furrowed when he saw me. I was sure I looked a mess with my red cheeks, bleeding feet, swollen eyes, and pajamas which included one of Mick’s shirts and some sleep shorts.

“What happened to you kid?” Singh asked after hanging up. I trembled as I sank into a chair. He grabbed the first aid kit from his desk then came to patch up my feet.

“It’s-it’s complicated,” I rasped. I shuddered with another sob and buried my face in my hands. Singh, thankfully, didn't ask any more questions, just finished patching me up, then patted my shoulder, and let me cry.

…

Avoiding my own apartment was a nightmare. I’d never given them a key but Mick and Len didn’t need one, even if I changed the locks. So I pretended that my apartment’s laundry was broken and stayed at Joe’s.

No one seemed to notice my misery. Something was up with the Reverse-Flash and no one had time for my pathetic little problems. I’d never spent much time doing the hero stuff so no one really noticed my absence.

Apparently Len and Mick did though. There was evidence of them looking for me all over. They blew up my phone with calls and texts and when I’d asked Joe to take me to my apartment, I’d glimpsed them watching from down the block.

But I couldn’t face them. I couldn’t bear it. It would be better this way. Eventually, they’d forget about me and I’d go back to being invisible to everyone.

…

Two weeks passed in utter misery. Joe and Iris were gone all the time now to help Bear. I missed my brother. It hadn't been so bad when we were kids. He had helped me with my homework, gone on imaginary adventures with me. We'd had fun.

I missed him sometimes.

….

The night was quiet except for the creaking of the house. I stared up at my ceiling too lethargic to do anything else.

And then I heard something. A click that was out of place. I sat up and strained my ears. Nothing. I was about to go back to staring into the void when I heard a stair creak under the weight of a foot.

Instantly, I turned invisible and crept from my room. I knew the places to avoid so I was completely silent as I went to the top of the stairs.

A man in a ski mask was creeping up. I could see his gun glinting in the moonlight.

I tiptoed back to my room and dialed Joe's number.

"Joe, there's someone-"

"I'm sorry, Allie. I'll call you back." The phone went dead and my heart seized.

Ok. Ok. It's fine. You're invisible and you can create force fields. You're fine.

I went back to my door and peeked out. The man was stuffing a silver figurine into his shoulder bag. I slipped out behind him, focusing on keeping myself invisible.

Too focused.

My foot hit a loose board. The man whirled and I startled out of my invisibility. Before I could throw up any kind of defense, he raised the gun and fired.

Being shot wasn't like the movies. The gun was much louder, making my ears ring. I didn't fly backward. Instead, it felt like the bullet just tore through me. There was a brief moment where everything seemed to slow and I just stared at the robber in shock.

I toppled backward and everything sped up again. Footsteps pounded back down the stairs. I heard a commotion, what sounded like a fight, but the shock was settling in, cold and hard.

A voice swam over me. I looked up into familiar eyes.

"M-Mick?"

"Stay still." Pain suddenly exploded through me as he pressed down on my wound. I screamed. Bright spots flashed over my vision.

“Leonard!” Mick sounded...afraid. But that couldn’t be. Mick wasn’t afraid of anything. I heard footsteps, heavy breathing, voices, and then I just…

Faded.

…

I woke to a rather annoying beeping sound. I fumbled for my alarm, desperate for a few more minutes of sleep.

Blazing pain shot down my arm. I sucked in a sharp breath. My eyes flew open as a warm hand caught mine.

"Easy, easy doll," Mick rumbled. I blinked at him, slowly relaxing into the pillows, the pain fading away to a dull ache. Len appeared by his side, worry gleaming in his eyes.

"Hey kid, you're gonna be ok," he told me.

Tears filled my eyes. I was so tired of hurting, of being in danger, of fear.

“Hey, hey,” Mick rumbled. His thumb swept over my cheeks. I continued to cry. I was wrung out, miserable from my revelation about loving the two men, and in pain again. My heart was too heavy.

“We’ve got ya,” Mick grunted. “We’ve got ya.”

…

I was able to return home after a few days. None of my family members or friends, had returned my calls. None of them knew I was in the hospital. When Mick and Len finally drove me home, I felt numb and miserable.

“Kid-” Len started but I just walked past them and into my bedroom. I shut the door and locked it. I knew they could pick the lock but I hoped they would give me my space. I buried myself under my blankets and cried some more.

…

I finally shuffled out a few hours later, expecting Mick and Len to have cleared out. I wasn't expecting to see them asleep on my couch. I stared at them and couldn’t help but smile as Mick snored loudly. My smile dropped and I shuffled into the kitchen. There were Tupperware containers sitting on the counter with food. I plucked one open and began eating dully.

“Kid?” I sighed and put my fork down. I turned around to see Leonard. “You should be resting.”

“I’m fine,” I groused. Len’s brow furrowed and Mick walked up to me. I tensed as he reached for me. He let his hand drop.

“What’s wrong, dollface? Other than the injured wing?” I sighed and pressed my palms to the cool countertop.

“I love you.” The words slipped from my mouth quietly. “Both of you and I’m tired. I’m tired of hurting and I’m tired of being afraid and I’m tired of hiding how I feel from you both. I’m in love with you both and I know that you two are together and that we can’t be-”

Mick kissed me. I sucked in a sharp breath as his large, warm hand came to cup my neck. My eyes fluttered shut. Leonard’s cool fingers brushed hair from my neck and then his lips brushed over my pulse. I trembled as they pulled away. I blinked rapidly and looked at them. Both of them smirked at me.

“What were you saying?” Len asked. I could only stare at them. Mick leaned in and began kissing my throat, giving Len a chance to kiss me properly.

“Wait,” I mumbled, pushing away from them only barely. “Does this mean…” Len rolled his eyes and Mick grunted.

“Yeah, dollface.” Sparkles of warmth flooded my blood. I let out a watery yet happy giggle before kissing them again.

#Snart x Rory x OC #TheFlashfanfiction #OC

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calypsoff · 4 years ago

Text

Fifteen.

I am so glad Robyn didn’t put me in for an early flight, I was busy playing 2K and I ended up going to sleep at four in the morning now I had to rush to pack, I used a suitcase because I am going to be gone for a while, not like it’s a weekend so I had to take the necessary things with me for this, I don’t know what Robyn is up too or what she is doing but I am taking my laptop with me so I can you know, maybe do some work while I am out there, took some of my own clothing line stuff so I can wear but I am ready, I am nervous but ready. I am going to leave my ego here, well try too but I am leaving it here and enjoying myself for whatever is to come, I just made my bed and tidied up my room so it’s going to be clean for when I come back, but I am ready. Grabbing my suitcase and dragging it out, I am so excited. I have never felt like this before about something, the excitement is not for the things to happen but to see Robyn, I really missed her. I can’t wait to see her face, I am going to be in her territory and that alone scares me, but I am going to let her take care of me, as she wants too. I have trimmed my pubes, shaved my beard that was growing and coloured my hair blonde, I think it looks good, according to my barber’s wife I look handsome so I will take that, she called me a model and said I have good cheekbones, I thanked her again so it must look good on me “Sisqo!” TJ spat; TJ is still here. Robyn told me to leave him be, I am. Things are rocky, but I deal with it, TJ was really the nigga to help me escape that shit I guess. We do get a long as we do but he always apologises for what happened which I appreciate because he did fuck up bad, it wasn’t good what he did. Seiko is heartbroken according to TJ, I blocked her on everything, I am done with her now. And he thinks she will get rid of the baby but it’s not my problem, Robyn said mind my business, so I am “y’all are goofy, I look good” they both dumb “you really gone blonde, it’s wild” Barry keeps looking at me crazy.

Barry cooked me lunch, he out here being a chef “salmon? Wow, you upping your game” shuffling my seat in “well we ain’t going to see you for a while, we will miss your birthday so I went all out. I love cooking so here we are, I have dessert too, I made your favourite bro. Cheesecake” my smile grew “y’all mushy as fuck, thank you” this is sweet of them “oh and here, me and TJ put in for this” he pushed the spare dining chair back and grabbed something “gift!? For me?” I am shocked “you missed many birthday’s bro, this is the first one that you’re here, you just missed out on the other one, so here. We put in together for you” he placed a neatly wrapped box and a card “these some love letters in this? You both are being very mushy for me, my mom was saying she wanted to come here for my birthday, I declined and told her why” opening the card first “who cried a little writing in the card?” pulling out the card, they are so sentimental. Looking at the front of the card “yooo, look at us niggas. Man how old were we? This is like thirteen? My jeans were too big bro, oh god. Good memories, we always been down” opening the card “this is weird, to be out and opening gifts, emotional” I sighed out “I know this is TJ’ writing, can’t write for shit” I chuckled “my brother from another mother, the nigga I look up too. I am appreciative of you, I don’t deserve to have a friendship because I do fuck up, I am the Eddy of the gang and I believe that. You protected me a lot and I am happy you are out, happy birthday breezy. Aww, TJ. Did you cry?” He waved me off “Barry, Breezy and Breeze, the three Bs. I am not writing shit else but happy birthday” I laughed at Barry being blunt, putting the card down “you were also crying; you both are emotional for me. Nigga might think you are gay for me” putting the card down “thank you for the card, it’s nice. I am smiling but it’s really hit my heart in a good way” TJ clapped his hands together “gift next” he seems excited.

Ripping open the wrapped gift, I am excited to see what it is “what this, a box!?” I spat, placing the paper on the table. Opening the box to see a gold chain, my eyes widened “jewellery!?” I spat “it wasn’t cheap, like that is real gold bro, no cheap shit. Can you tell how pure it looks; it holds weight. Like it’s slim and stuff but it holds weight, like we put money into it for you and got it you. It was expensive” I am shook, like this is so nice “I seem like a girl getting all excited but wow, I love it. I really do, I never looked for gold like that. I am just me, you know me. I love it. I promise to wear it” getting up from the chair “bring it in” Barry got up from his chair, hugging him “I love you Chris, you know I got you” he patted my back “always, I got your back like you got mine” moving back from the hug “you for real got my ex pregnant” TJ put his head down laughing “something I got to live with, I pray she gets it gone” hugging him either way “don’t fuck up on me, you rode for me when I was down, niggas was talking shit saying that I was a bad name but you was there and that is what means the most, you not here for highs’sbecause I ain’t got that yet. Just think, yeah?” patting his chest as I sat down “TJ is like our little brother even though we the same age, it’s wild. Like he’s a child the way he acts” Barry is right “I believe in us, I want us to win together. You both never turned your backs on me, and I won’t do that to you, so we got this. And this, thank you. I did not expect a gift like this, wow. My first piece of jewellery, real gold too. You can tell it is too, thank you” I am in awe with what they did for me, they didn’t have too.

Robyn has set out rules for me and then told me see you tomorrow, she hasn’t even messaged me but she did say she would be busy today to tie up some loose ends and she will call me when things are set “you think Robyn will like me, like do I look good?” I have to ask, the buzzer went off “I will get it but yes, you look so much better. The hair is wild, in a good way” TJ said as he jogged off, I sighed out feeling nervous but I can’t wait to see her “look at you, you’re like a nervous bride” Barry snorted laughing “nervous bride, nigga fuck you” I chuckled “but did I lie” I feel it “bro it’s for you” TJ said seeing this guy in a suit “Chris?” he said, who the hell is this “uh yeah, who are you?” TJ let’s anyone in “I am your driver to take you to the airport, Robyn sent me to collect” TJ gasped “oh shit! You are being collected! Bro, that is crazy. Have fun, like we are living through you” Robyn really got a driver to pick me up “uh yeah, I am ready. I was about to call an uber” the guy smiled “no need too, I will wait for you outside” Barry and I just looked at each other, we are shook. Robyn really planned all this, no wonder she was upset when I said I wasn’t coming.

The last SUV I rode was in the back of a undercover police, when they caught me and I drove in the back with them, I had two officers at each side of me, like I was a criminal, I mean yes I did bad but that is the last time I rode in one and look at me, I am in the back of a SUV with a driver. This shit is beautiful “is this all paid for?” I have to ask “yes sir, everything is done. I will drop you off at the private charter” this is crazy “thank you” I am so fucking excited; Robyn is about to blow my mind and I know it. I am so thankful, good friends too “do you know who the person that booked this?” I am wondering if he does “I am sure you know who it is sir, I will say Robyn and you know who” I am guessing he does “have you met this person?” I have to ask “yes indeed when they came to Texas, they use the company I drive for all of the time” nodding my head “privacy is key, do you have your passport?” he asked “I do, it’s in my duffle bag” picking it up from the floor of the car “that is fine, you just need to show it when we arrive” I am so excited.

I am mind blown, I mean I have seen a private jet before but that was just me dropping Robyn off, this jet is huge though and it’s only me, she really got me on a jet, shook right now “hey” I said to the driver “my case!?” I spat, he smiled at me “it’s already been taken to be put onto the jet, have a lovely day” letting out an oh, they take my shit they self. I swear I wish my niggas were with me, we would be getting hype together, I can only do this on my own. I need to video this shit, memories. Getting my phone from my pocket, I don’t care if I look crazy, but I need to keep this for myself. Tapping on video, pressing record as I videoed the jet “birthday just started, this is crazy” making my way to the jet still recording “welcome” the pilot smiled at me and got his hand out to me “hey” shaking his hand “welcome aboard” he gestured for me to get on board, this is wild. I am such a tourist “good afternoon Chris” I nearly fell back down the steps “oh yeah, hi” the flight attendant, of course there would one here “take a seat, would you like me to put your bag away” shaking my head, looking down the aisle of empty seats and a whole couch, this is wild. This is how the rich ride; I want it myself.

I sat next to the window seat, all to myself “sir would you like anything to eat?” looking away from the window “uhm” I paused, and the thought came into my mind, Robyn wants me to eat fruit. She said my cum was bad, I don’t know but let me do that “erm, fruit. Just some fruis, I am not bothered the kind” she smiled walking off, I am really on Robyn’ jet like this is her life. She just jumps on this shit and rides off without a care, I like it and I appreciate that she even do this for me, I am being more open to letting her do this because I would actually just make my own way there, I am really going to see the rich, I mean do I look the part. Are my clothes expensive enough for that, least I have a gold chain. Is my gold Casio watch too cheap, I like this watch it’s cool but do I look the part for that, will I even fit in to what she has. I mean the luxury; you can smell money. Like I can ask for anything, they will do it to make me happy. I am not sure if that is a life I want, I mean last time I let money get to me and I don’t want that to happen again, it won’t but I just hope I fit in to Robyn’ life without is being a struggle to settle down.

I haven’t been here before, I mean I have heard about the city of dreams but here I am inside of LAX, I am shook and it’s already how imagined, horribly busy. Robyn called earlier, just checking on me, but we were landing, I am so excited to be here. Dragging my suitcase along seeing a man in a suit with my name on a paper, we locked eyes “Chris?” he rushed over to me “uh yeah, that is me?” he looks relieved “bit land with landing, that is why” he smiled “that is fine, your ride awaits” he pointed at the SUV, another SUV Robyn is really spoiling me already, she has made sure I wasn’t without a ride, I mean if I use my brain she hasn’t told me where her home is, I am so slow. Of course she planned it, where the hell was I going with no address, I am dumb “let me” he took my suitcase from me, wild times ahead of me. Following behind the guy, opening the door myself to get in “sorry I would have opened it for you” he doesn’t need to do much.

I didn’t ask the driver where we are going, it seems like a long ride there. It’s been about fifteen minutes and we been just driving, he put music on for me, but I am sick of riding around now, I am bored of it “hey” I said out loud “yes sir?” he looked at me in the rear-view mirror “where are we going?” I mean I could be getting kidnapped “you don’t know?” he chuckled “uh no, I never really verified who you were, you could be kidnapping me “you are from the country, welcome to California. I am taking you to your destination, which is West Hollywood” oh wow “really? Hollywood?” he keeps laughing at me “yes, our client lives there” nodding my head slowly “been there before?” I asked, I keep asking these drivers if they have driven Robyn before “oh yes, I am always driving her around. The home is beautiful just a new purchase for her, very big. She is very kind too, I would usually drop her off at the apartment but she moved from that” that is Robyn, she is kind “cool, first time I am going there” I laughed nervously “meeting her too?” he asked, it was such a simple question, but it feels like I am meeting her for the first time but it’s like, I am meeting her in her own bubble, so I am seeing that Robyn now “erm, I have met her a few times. Just never come to California before” I mumbled.

Rich folk alert, these homes are for the rich, oh my god this is fucking wild to me. These homes are for the rich and famous, these are mansions, private property shit. I am in awe, she lives around here “we have arrived!” he half shouted before buzzing in, oh shit this is really Robyn’ place but I thought she had no home, this is crazy “I have Chris in the car” that voice isn’t Robyn, what if I have been kidnapped, this is wild “this home is twelve thousand dollars, very beautiful” the driver drove down the drive ever so slowly, a long drive down. As the greenery moved from the eyesight I lay my eyes on the home she is in, the biggest front yard, well I think this is parking space but it’s huge “and here we are” he stopped his car.

Now I am outside this home and she is nowhere to be seen, is she kidding me. What if I have been kidnapped, now I am doubting myself. The left side of the tall door opened, I am just stood here from afar confused, this small Chinese girl appeared “Tina here, come” she waved me over “who are you?” I mean we may have met but I don’t remember “Rihanna’ assistant, come in. She is inside” letting out an oh, maybe we did meet. Dragging my suitcase as she opened the door wide for me to enter “thank you” looking up at the high walls as I entered the home, the door shut behind me “she is coming, and there” looking behind me seeing Robyn, she is running to me. Letting go of my duffle bag and suitcase “you came!” she jumped on me, I caught her, picking her up as she wrapped her legs around my waist “I did! I missed you” I admitted, Robyn squeezed her arms around my neck “I am so fucking happy you are here! And you see this?” she moved back, placing her hands over my face “I have a home now, I been so busy. My poppa is here and your hair!!! Wow baby” she pressed a kiss to my lips “I hope you didn’t go all out for me now?” I grinned “to shut you up yes, god. I am so fucking happy you are here, I been busy Chris, now you’re here” she hugged me again.

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