#but considering how awful Barry's life is at the moment he might as well try | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sterekruinedme · 4 years ago

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It's been a long time (without you)

on AO3

"You trust him. No, it's more than that. It is worse than that! You believe in him."

Barry was still staring at the door where Snart had just left when Iris' voice cut through him. "Iris-", he tried to placate her, but she cut him off. "He kidnapped Caitlin. And Cisco. And he hurts people! And yet you still believe in him!"

Barry sighed. He was suddenly very exhausted. "It is not like that, okay? We have a deal. He even saved my life!" Barry wasn't sure why they were even fighting about this. It's not like he was teaming up with Captain Cold again. Cold had just been there to warn him of Madon and the Trickster.

"Oh yes, he saved your life! And then he betrayed you!"

Barry sighed again. "Why are we fighting about this?", he asked. Iris's shoulders slumped and she finally uncrossed her arms. The fire in her eyes was still burning, but she seemed calmer now. "I just don't trust him."

Barry could feel his lips twitching. "I appreciate the concern. But Cold put himself at quite a risk to break into the house of a metahuman and a cop, so I'm just gonna trust him on this. Plus, he owed me one, and despite everything Cold has a codex. And he hates being in someone's depth. This is probably just his messed up way of saying thank you for saving his sister's life."

Iris huffed but relented. "He was right about the hot chocolate, you know? It's not the same without marshmallows."

Barry couldn't help but feel slightly smug. Leonard Snart had joined the Legends. Barry knew there was good in him. He knew it! The news made something warm expand in his chest. He inhaled sharply when he realized it was pride. He was proud of Snart for doing the right thing.

"What are you so happy about?", Iris asked from where she was sitting on the couch. For one ridiculous second Barry wanted to hide the postcard he had found in the post from her eyes. But then he reminded himself that it was just a postcard. And this was Iris he was talking to.

"Oh, uhm, it's a postcard. From Snart." He couldn't help but fidget as he watched Iris's eyebrows shoot upwards. "Captain Cold sent you a postcard?!", her voice went high with disbelief, and Barry winced.

"Yes?", he didn't mean for it to sound like a question. "He joined the Legends. The postcard is from 1989, I guess he thought it would be funny." Barry looked down at the postcard again, warmth flooding his chest at the caption: I guess you were right. Don't let it get to your head, kid. Cold.

When he looked up from the postcard again Iris was studying him silently. He knew that look on her face and he really did not like it. "He wrote you a postcard. And it is from the year you were born?" Barry could feel his cheeks flame. "Uhm yeah?" The hand that wasn't holding the postcard was now awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. It was a nervous habit he had wanted to get rid of, but apparently he couldn't. It took all of his willpower not to start fidgeting under Iris's scrutinizing gaze anyway.

"Look, I know you don't like him, but it is just a postcard, okay?" He tugged the offending piece of mail into his pocket and crossed the room to sit down on the couch as well. Iris was still looking at him like that. Like he was a mystery she wanted to solve, a particularly interesting piece of information she had not considered before. She looked at him like she sometimes looked at a piece of evidence for one of her articles.

"Of course, sorry. Let's just watch the game, okay?", she asked but her voice was still off. She let Barry pull her close, but he could tell that her thoughts were miles away.

"Barry?"

He had not noticed that Iris had entered the room. If she was back from work already then he really must have been sitting here for a while now.

"Barry? Are you okay?" He hummed and turned to look at her. Something about his appearance must have thrown her off because suddenly Iris hesitated to come closer to him

Maybe he should get up from the floor. His knees were starting to hurt from kneeling for so long.

"What happened?", Iris asked and Barry knew that fear in her voice all too well. She was expecting bad news, the kind of news that would leave him powerless on the floor of their bedroom.

"It's just-", his voice sounded raw even to his own eyes and he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. It wasn't "just" Snart's death. He swallowed and forced himself off the floor. "Snart's dead."

Barry saw the moment the words registered with Iris, saw how surprised she was to see him in this state over his dead enemy. But he wasn't just an enemy, was he? Cold had become an ally.

"Oh." Iris was staring at him with that look again and then her eyes flickered to his hands. He was still holding the postcard Snart had written him. "Oh", Iris repeated again and something shifted in her eyes. "He meant something to you, didn't he?" Her voice was careful now like he was a spooked animal that needed to be soothed.

"I-", Barry's first instinct was to deny that, but that would be ridiculous. "He was an ally, of course I care if he is dead. Especially if it is because I pushed him to become a hero." He said, his shoulders sagging under the realization that if maybe he hadn't pushed Snart to become a hero, he might still be alive.

"Barry, whatever happened to Cold is not your fault. He made his own choices, you know that better than anyone."

"I know", Barry mumbled and refused to look Iris into the eyes.

"Why HIM?", Iris had asked and Barry was asking himself the same thing now. He tried to justify his actions with the fact that Snart was the best thief he knew and that time was running out, but he had also missed the older man. He had missed their banter and the slow drawl of his voice and-

And he knew that he could trust him.

Snart proved him right when he refused to let Barry murder King Shark and he knew that he would be grateful for that when the dust had finally settled. The fact that Snart could read him so well, actually knew him well enough to know what he was planning and to come up with a different plan made something warm settle in his stomach.

Barry couldn't leave him in there with ARGUS agents sure to arrive any second and King Shark still on the other side of the door. No matter how much Snart taunted him, he could hear how scared he was in his voice, in the way it shook when he said his name. It felt an awful lot like he had to choose between Snart and Iris, but he just could not bring himself to leave him there. He had promised Iris he would do anything to save her, but he could not do this.

And Lyla just had to call him out on it, didn't she? She might be fooled into thinking that Barry was just a good person, a hero, too good to sacrifice somebody for his own gain. But Barry was not so sure about that. If it had been somebody else behind that door, somebody he cared about less, he might have left them there. He felt sick just thinking about it, but he couldn't stop. He didn't recognize who he was becoming.

Snart hit too close to home when he called Barry on it as well. He had not been sure if Barry would save him and that cut deeper than it should have. "I see the bad in you", he said but it almost sounded admiring. Almost. But then Snart put his hand on his shoulder and looked at him with that intense gaze. "Call me sentimental, but I think the Flash should always be a hero." Barry swallowed and had to avert his eyes, a private smile playing around his lips.

He suddenly wished he could just tell him. Tell Snart how he would die, save him somehow but he knew that that was impossible. "Be careful, Snart."

"There are no strings on me", Snart drawled and Barry smiled sadly at him. He knew how untrue that was, how attached to his team Snart would become. Attached enough to sacrifice himself for them.

He heaved a sigh and turned away from him, suddenly aching to get back to his own time, to get away from Snart's piercing gaze.

After everything was over and the dust had finally settled, after almost losing Iris, after having thought her lost, Barry felt completely drained. He dreaded the conversation he would have to have with Iris. About who he had almost become. He dragged himself out of bed with a sigh.

Iris was sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop, but she looked up when Barry entered. They had been tiptoeing around each other for a few days now, the air between them always charged with too much tension.

"Hey", Barry mumbled, awkwardly rubbing his neck.

"Hi", Iris closed her laptop and took a deep breath. "I think we need to talk." Barry huffed and sat down across from her. "I think you are right." "Look, there is something I didn't tell you. When Snart and I broke into ARGUS, things went really wrong for a second and I had to make a choice. I had to choose between leaving him there to fend for himself and getting back to you." Barry trailed of and hesitated, flicking his eyes to Iris and back down.

"Barry, I am not mad that you didn't sacrifice Captain Cold for me, if that is what you are worried about. Everything worked out and I am fine", her voice was soft and reassuring, but Barry swallowed hard and forced himself to look at her. "It's not that. I-, if it was anybody else, I-" He took a shaky breath. "I considered it. I considered leaving him there but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to do it. But if it had been somebody else in there with me, I think I would have. I would have sacrificed them. And that scares me."

"Do you have feelings for him, Barry?", Iris asked after a beat. "Is that what you are trying to tell me?"

Barry shook his head so fast, he was sure Iris only saw a blur. "No, my feelings for Snart don't matter." And shit, that-

That was not what he had meant to say at all. "I mean I don't have any! And that's why they don't matter." Didn't he though? A small nagging voice whispered in his mind, sounding annoying familiar but no-

He would deal with that question later. Not that it really mattered, because Snart was gone and he wasn't coming back and Barry should have warned him, he-

He put his head in his hands and just focused on breathing for a moment before he looked at Iris again. "What scares me is what I would do for you. Savitar only existed because I turned to darkness after you died. I would have killed somebody to save you. Since I was a little kid, I always thought that you would be the answer to all of my problems, that if we would be together everything would be alright."

He smiled sadly at Iris, who was staring at him with sad eyes. "I love you, I do! I just think I was so blinded by the fantasy, so in love with the perfect future I imagined for us that I became obsessed with it and that made me dangerous."

"You love me. You just aren't in love with me." Iris concluded with a bitter twist to her mouth. She had always known him too well. There were tears in her eyes and Barry could feel his own emotions welling up as well.

"Not anymore. I don't know what happened. But I do know that I love you."

"Just not like that", Iris finished for him and Barry nodded.

Iris slid the ring of her finger, the tears were running down her cheeks now. "I am so sorry", Barry whispered, but Iris shook her head. "It's not your fault. You can't help how you feel."

The weeks after the break-up were a blur. Joe didn't understand and his team treated him like he was fragile or perhaps going insane, so he mostly spent his time alone to avoid the pity and confusion and awkwardness.

The postcard had somehow found his way onto his nightstand when he had unpacked after moving out. He had used it as a bookmark at first, but now it was permanently residing there with the text facing upwards.

Admitting to himself that Iris had been right had been uncomfortable at best. Somewhere along the line, Barry had developed feelings for Snart. Sometimes he stared at the postcard and mourned what could have been. But he always shook himself out of it, because no matter what he might have felt, he was still an enemy to the older man. So instead, he focused on figuring out his sexuality.

He googled a lot and found some ridiculous buzzfeed quizzes before he found a forum for the lgbt community. The members were welcoming and open to answering his questions and he soon found a label that fit; bisexual.

Coming out was surprisingly easy. Joe simply hugged him tight and promised that this didn't change anything. Cisco simply said "cool" and high-fived him. Iris smiled sadly at him but gave him a hug nevertheless.

Months later Barry found himself at Saints and Sinners of all places. His feet had somehow carried him to the bar. The same bartender who had been here all those months ago was still behind the bar and Barry sat down with a heavy sigh. The bartender eyed him for a second before her face dawned with recognition. "Oh hey kid, Cold isn't here today."

Barry swallowed and tried his best to smile. No, of course he wasn't. He wouldn't ever be here again. "No, yeah, I know." This was probably a stupid idea. What had he been thinking? He could get into seriously trouble with his boss for just being in this bar. Barry shook his head. "I don't know why I'm here, I should probably go." He hadn't even ordered a drink yet, not that it would make a difference, but he left a tip anyway and turned to leave.

On his way out he bumbed into somebody and looked up to apologize only to freeze. Standing before him was Lisa Snart. She was eyeing him suspiciously and fuck- Barry really hoped that Len had kept his word and also that Lisa hadn't figured it out yet. "Oh, you're Cisco's friend", she said after a moment. Then her smile turned sharper and she cocked her hip. "How is Cisco?"

"Fine, he's fine. Excuse me", Barry mumbled and stumbled out of the bar.

Shyla was just bringing him his drink into the backroom when Lisa sauntered in with unmasked glee on her face. "Cisco's cute friend was just here. You know, the one that looks like bambi? Do you think he might bring Cisco with him sometime? Or maybe I should ask him for Cisco's number if he comes back?"

"Bambi? Oh yeah Len, the kid that bothered you a few times last year, do you remember him? He left when I told him you weren't here", Shyla cut in and Len saw the gears turning in Lisa's head. Oh no.

"Wait. Those bambi eyes. THAT kid is the Flash?!", Lisa exclaimed as soon as Shyla was gone. Len rubbed his temple. He could feel a headache coming on. "Yes."

Lisa had crossed her arms, but she was smirking now. "I can see why you were so obsessed with him. He is exactly your type, isn't he?" Len only glared at her. "Does he know that you are", she trailed off and vaguely waved her hands in his direction.

"Back from the dead?", he finished her question. "No."

Lisa frowned. "Why not?"

Len sighed heavily. He swore he could feel the headache intensifying. "Let him enjoy his wedded bliss before the announcement of his nemesis returning ruins his fun", he drawled but he knew that Lisa had always been able to look straight through him.

"He looked really sad, you know?", she said carefully. "There must be a reason why he came to Saints and Sinners. He could have gone anywhere."

Len knew what Lisa was implying but the thought of the Flash missing him was simply absurd. He remembered the last time he had seen the man vividly after all, remembered the fear and betrayal he had felt when the hero had nearly left him in the cell with that horrifying shark creature, remembered the resignation that of course the Flash would sacrifice him for his precious fiance, hell he had taunted him with his ruthlessness just moments before.

He also remembered the bone-deep relief when Scarlett had turned back for him.

Len snorted. "He is probably glad I am gone." He tried to sound cold and aloof, but his voice betrayed him halfway through. Lisa only raised her eyebrows at him.

"He is not married. He is actually very very single", Lisa announced when she strolled into his safe-house days later.

Len had been on the verge of taking a very much deserved nap, but now he groaned and sat up on the couch. "What?"

Lisa smirked. "He is single."

Len sighed. "Ramon? Congrats. Now, if you would be so kind", he made a shooing motion with his hand.

Lisa's smirk only widened. "No, your little Bambi. He isn't married." Lisa sat down on the couch next to him. "He is very single."

Len only gaped at her for a moment, before he exploded: "I'm sorry WHAT?" For a moment he was afraid that something had gone wrong, that Iris had died. It certainly would explain why Barry had been so sad.

"They called the engagement off a while ago", Lisa continued. "So Iris-?"; Len asked with bated breath.

"She is fine", Lisa confirmed and then just looked at him.

Len couldn't help but feel irritated. So he had risked his life to save Barry's precious fiance and then they hadn't even tied the knot?

"Are you okay?", Lisa asked tentatively. Len looked at her flatly and forced himself to smirk. "Peachy."

Maybe he would feel better if he checked on Barry, saw the situation for himself. It's not like he was worried for the speedster, he just wanted to know what had happened. One little visit to Starlabs surely couldn't hurt-

No. He had promised himself he would stay away from metahumans and heroes. He had no desire to get himself killed again.

"Bambi is here again", Shyla announced as she entered the back room where Len was going over some plans.

"I told you to stop calling him that", Len grit out but the bartender only looked amused. She had known him for way too long to feel threatened by him and they were both keenly aware of it.

"I think he is looking for something." Shyla's tone was poignant. "He isn't going to find it here", he grumbled.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. Something keeps him coming back. Or someone." Len ignored her raised eyebrow and glared at her. Shyla glared right back. "He doesn't know I'm-", he gestured vaguely, "back."

"Back from the dead, you mean? Oh, that's right, because you had a second chance at life and you spent it hiding away and planning small robberies you never actually go through with. What are you so afraid of?"

Len gritted his teeth. "Thank you Shyla, that will be all."

In the end, Len couldn't stay away. He had never been good at denying himself the things he wanted and he wanted Ba-

He wanted to see what was up with the speedster.

Looking back he really should have known that following a metahuman -and it wasn't stalking, shut UP Lisa- would be a bad idea. Barry had him pressed against the alley wall before Len could even register what was happening.

"Who the fuck are you? Why are you following me?", the speedster hissed, making Len raise both eyebrows.

"Now, now Scarlett. What a very rude way to greet an old friend." Len smirked as he lowered his hood, but he was wholly unprepared for the sound Barry made, a choked gasp followed by an angry, feral growl. "Do you think this is fucking funny? What the fuck are you, huh? A shapeshifter of some kind?", he sounded breathless.

"Hey, Barry, it really is me." Len made sure to keep his voice gentle. This certainly was not how he had imagined their reunion. Not that he had imagined it.

"No, you died. They told me, you-" Barry sounded as breathless as Len felt.

"Surprise?"

Barry narrowed his eyes at him. "Prove it. Prove that you are him."

"I wrote you a postcard. Sent it to you from the year you were born", Len said quickly, still pinned to the wall by Barry, but the other man only scoffed.

"You could have just broken into my apartment and seen it there."

For a moment Len was speechless. "You-" He swallowed. "You kept it?"

Barry's grip on him loosened some, but he was still eyeing Len suspiciously.

Len sighed. "Fine. The last time I saw you, I told you the Flash should always be a hero."

Barry's arms fell lifelessly to his side and he stumbled a step back. "You're alive", Barry whispered and Len laughed because duh-

"And you're not married. What happened there, huh? After I risked my life for your precious fiance...", Len trailed off. He had not been able to keep the venom out of his voice.

Barry flushed and ducked his head. Len observed with great interest as his blush spread down his neck. "Yeah, Iris and I didn't work out."

Len tilted his head to the side. "Mmh, it's a shame really. The least she could have done after you saved her life, was not break your heart."

"She, uh, she didn't." If anything Barry flushed an even deeper shade of red and Len needed a second to catch up with what the speedster had implied.

"YOU broke HER heart?", he all but yelled. Then, forcing himself to calm down and not get his hopes up,"Oh my, it seems like we have a lot of catching up to do, Scarlett."

Barry couldn't believe it. Leonard Snart was alive. They were sitting at a table at Saints and Sinners of all places. Snart had ordered them both a beer, although he knew that would not do anything for Barry, and there was a plate of fries on the table. It almost felt like a date. That thought made Barry want to laugh just a little hysterically. After all, they had been in this exact position before, and that had definitely not been a date.

Snart had suggested this bar to "catch up" and Barry hadn't even thought about saying no. But now the older man was just looking at him, studying him, while Barry felt like vibrating out of his skin. "How did you-, When-, I mean how long have you been-"

Snart smirked at him. "Breathe Barry."

If he heard the way Barry's breath caught at the use of his name, Snart ignored it. "I've been back for a while now", Snart said, but didn't offer any other information. "And you never thought to mention that you were alive? We all thought you were dead!"

Snart levelled him with a cool look. “Why? So I could let myself be dragged into the superhero life and die again?” His voice was controlled, but there was an emotion in his eyes that Barry could not decipher.

Barry shook his head. “No. Just so that I could know you were alive. I was sorry to hear that you had died.” He hesitated. “I missed you, Snart.”

Snart snorted and shook his head. “I know you are a hero kid, but even your heart cannot be so pure that you missed your archnemesis.” There was a playful lilt in his voice, but the same indecipherable emotion was still in his eyes.

Barry swallowed. “You know you were never my archnemesis. That was Thawne”, he said, aiming for playful but missing. “I’d like to think that we weren’t even enemies, at the end.” Barry stared at the table, fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. Maybe that was all that Snart ever thought of him; that he was his enemy, the annoying metahuman that always thwarted his plans.

“What would you call us then, Barry? Friends?” Barry didn’t have to lift his eyes to know that Snart was smirking unkindly. His voice had hardened. Barry didn’t know what he had done, but he was certain that he had pissed the older man off somehow.

Still, he swallowed nervously and said softly:” I’d like to think we could have been.”

Snart scoffed. “Wake up, Barry.”

“Don’t treat me like some dumb little kid”, Barry growled and finally looked into Snart’s eyes again. He had enough of the older man acting like he didn’t care. “You’ve been calling me Barry all night. What’s up with that?”

For a second Snart’s carefully crafted façade broke, before he was back to smirking at Barry.

“That is your name, isn’t it?”, Snart asked innocently.

Barry huffed. “Yes. My first name. No ‘Scarlett’ or ‘kid’ or even ‘Allen’. You’ve been calling me Barry since we sat down.”

Snart glared at him and shifted in his seat. His gaze flickered across the room, before landing on his beer. He shrugged and drained what was left of his drink in one go, before turning back to Barry. “You really want to go there today, huh? Alright, fine, let’s go there. Tell me, Barry. Why aren’t you married?”

That wasn’t a conversation Barry was ready to have, not with Snart, and definitely not sober. He sighed and looked sadly at his beer, wishing desperately that he could get drunk.

Len didn’t know what he had expected when he had suggested that Barry and he should catch up, but it certainly wasn’t this. Barry looked like he wanted to drown himself in alcohol or run away. Or both. If Len hadn’t been feeling like things were about to spiral out of control, he might have enjoyed this. Still, he couldn’t help but fluster the speedster just a tiny bit more. “Oh, and call me Len”, he said and winked at Barry.

For a moment Barry just stared at him, opening and closing his mouth as if unsure how to even begin answering Len. Then, he dropped his gaze back to the table and shrugged. “Iris and I just didn’t work out.”

Len snorted unattractively. “The love of your life? And it just didn’t work out? Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

Barry blushed and mumbled something that Len didn’t catch. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

He could see the speedster’s jaw clench in frustration, but then Barry finally raised his gaze again and stared straight at Len. Oh, how he had missed the fire in Barry’s eyes. “I said she is not the love of my life.” He shrugged, but levelled Len with a smirk. “I figured out that I wasn’t in love with her. I was in love with this perfect idea of her, but she deserves better than somebody who is obsessed with this perfect marriage because he saw it in a stupid time machine.” At Len’s confused frown, Barry shrugged. “Long story. Anyway, you actually helped me figure that out.”

Now it was Len’s turn to be speechless. He stared at Barry, waiting for the younger man to explain what he had meant.

“You know when the door closed and you were locked in with King Shark, I really scared myself. For a moment I hesitated. If it had been anybody else I might have left them there and-“ Barry sighed, a frustrated and helpless little sound, and raked his hand through his hair, before catching Len’s eyes again. “That is just not somebody I ever wanted to be. It put a lot of things into perspective. Made me re-evaluate a lot of things.”

Len had barely heard the last part of what Barry had said, his mind going in circles. “If it had been anybody else?”, he blurted out, hating how breathless he sounded, but unable to stop it.

Barry smirked humourlessly. “Told you we could have been friends.”

Friends? Maybe in a different lifetime. But Len knew that there was something else between them, something else hiding at the edges of their complicated relationship. He leaned forward, suddenly driven by impulse and desire. “Is that what you want Barry? Do you want us to be friends?” Without his permission, one of Len’s hands reached across the table. Barry gasped softly at his touch, but he didn’t pull away. “Is that really what you want?”

Barry shook his head and pulled his hands out of Len’s reach. In a blur, he was standing beside Len. “I don’t want us to be friends”, he panted and the next moment Len had a wide-eyed speedster in his lap.

“Correct me if I am wrong, but I don’t think that is what you want either.”

Len gripped Barry’s hips tightly, keeping him steady and secure in his lap. “You’re not wrong.”

Kissing Barry was nothing like Len had expected. Not that he had thought about it often. But the meta-human kissed gently but deeply, hungrily but never demanding, claiming him but also making him feel cherished.

Len knew that he could easily get lost in Barry Allen. After all, he had done it before, had gotten lost in his obsession with The Flash. But now things were different. Maybe it would not be such a bad thing to get lost in this Barry, in the Barry that climbed into his lap and kissed him until they were panting for breath, the Barry that had followed him into Saints and Sinners without a single complaint, the Barry that had missed him, that was happy to see him alive and well.

Yes, it would not be a bad thing to get lost in Barry Allen.

#ColdFlash #coldflash fix it #leonard snart #barry allen #coldflash fanfic #flash fanfic #The Flash #My writing

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backtothestart02 · 4 years ago

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Remember That Night - 2/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Another chap for you! The chaps will be longer after Barry and Iris meet again, but the first several chaps are the in between time and so are a little shorter. Enjoy!

...

Chapter 2 - The Day After

Numb.

That was the only word Iris could think of to describe herself.

The entire rest of the day after Barry had gone, she felt like she was walking around like a ghost. No purpose, no direction, no heartbeat. She moved through the kitchen stopping at places he had been, touching counter surfaces, dishes, remembering. Barry Allen wasn’t dead, but he’d so surely ripped himself from her life unexpectedly that it felt like he was. She was in shock.

Eventually, she found her way to the bedroom and laid in his bed, sleeping on and off. No one came to check in on her. Her aunt and uncle were no doubt busy with the work during the day and they might not even know she was still there. They hadn’t been blind to Barry and Iris’ relationship over the past couple months, but they also hadn’t gone out of their way to be nosy about it. Only Iris’ dad would’ve done that, and he was two states away.

Her best friend, Linda Park, was at a summer-long internship on the other side of the country. Any other friends Iris had were superficial, and they didn’t know about Barry. Linda knew some details but not all. Her life in New York City had become busy and her replies to Iris’ texts were few and far between. Iris didn’t have to be lonesome for long though, because soon after she and Barry shared their first kiss – or kisses rather, and after that it was down the rabbit hole she went.

The day after Barry left, the tears came.

Iris was okay at first, other than a massive stomach ache come morning, since she hadn’t eaten any lunch or dinner the day before. Her heartbreak told her she didn’t have an appetite. Her stomach disagreed.

She sighed, not really wanting to combat keeping tears at bay and unbearable stomach pain for a whole day or longer.

Forcing her eyes open and the sheets off her body, she looked up to find a silhouette in the doorway. For a moment the light played a trick on her, and she thought it was Barry – in the flesh, returned to her, ready to explain and beg for forgiveness and stay with her.

The look on her face must’ve given her away, as had her little gasp, because seconds later her aunt Cora stepped into the room with a sad smile.

“It’s just me, honey. I wanted to check on you.”

Iris’ shoulders slumped, and immediately she started to sob. One tear came and then another, then another, until they were pouring down her cheeks and cries were getting louder and louder. She couldn’t register when, but soon her aunt had come to her on the bed and held her close, letting her cry, letting her sob and get all those awful emotions out.

By the time she’d drained herself of both tears and the energy to cry out, she was so exhausted that she fell back asleep again.

Vaguely, she recalled her aunt tucking her in and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Then her presence was gone, and Iris was asleep.

The next time she opened her eyes she was in her uncle’s house, a smile on her face and balloons all around her. She was dreaming. She knew that much, but she didn’t care. She let herself experience it and forget the reality.

This dream – this memory – was much more pleasant than what she’d be waking up to.

“Iris.”

She spun around to face her uncle, a smile on his face as well – a beaming one in fact. His hands were hooked into his suspenders, barely holding his stomach in beneath the plaid shirt. His jeans were a little dirty from being outside, but his ‘party boots’ were shiny and gave the impression of grandeur, as did that toothy grin of his.

“Uncle Jesse.”

Her eyes sparkled as she went to him, about to hug him tightly as her blue and white summer dress swayed around her hips when she realized he was trying to introduce someone to her.

She turned to look at the man beside her uncle, and her heart nearly stopped.

He was tall, several inches taller than her uncle, who she’d always considered a great deal taller than her. She felt tiny in front of this new stranger. She also couldn’t hold eye contact with him for too long. His eyes were penetrating. A deep green that you either fell into or avoided entirely. She’d just barely escaped the former.

“Who is this?” she heard herself asking politely.

Jesse squeezed the shoulder of the taller man beside him.

“This is Barry Allen. I’ve hired him on as a ranch hand over the summer. I thought I’d introduce you so you’re not startled if you happen to see him here when you come during your summer break. If you do, of course.”

“You know I will, Uncle Jesse. I love spending time with you and Aunt Cora.”

Jesse couldn’t stop the smile that spread further across his face.

“Jesse! More guests are arriving!”

“Oh, excuse me. Iris, Barry, why don’t you two get to know each other while I welcome our other guests. The party should be starting soon!”

Barry and Iris hid secret smiles, their eyes locking for the briefest of moments before Jesse parted from them and headed towards where his wife was calling by the front door.

“I’m coming, honey. I’m coming,” he said hurriedly. They could hear him even from a distance.

Barry chuckled lightly.

“He’s quite a character, your uncle.”

“Mm,” she said, her breath suddenly stolen from her as he took a step closer and stood beside her.

“How old are you turning today?”

She forced herself to focus on his question. He was just a guy. A very tall guy with gorgeous green eyes she was in danger of drowning in, but just a guy nonetheless.

“Nineteen,” she said, with a smile.

“Wow, practically an adult, aren’t ya?” he teased.

She scoffed, smiling wide despite herself.

“Well, how old are you, Mister Allen?”

He chuckled. “I am an adult.”

“Eighteen?”

He gave her a look that turned her to jelly.

“Twenty-one.”

“Just because I can’t drink doesn’t mean I’m not in an adult. Here in the states adulthood starts at 18.” She paused. “Where are you from?”

“The States,” he said easily.

“More specifically?”

He shrugged. “Around.”

Her eyes sparkled in amusement.

“Shrouded in mystery, aren’t you?”

He laughed.

“I just like to keep to myself is all. I never stay in one place for too long.”

“And why is that?”

He smiled by way of an answer.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile continuously tugging at her lips just by being near him. And the way he was looking at her. God.

“Iris!” she heard her uncle call, and she looked in his direction, her face hot and her focus blurred but still trying. “I have some more guests for you to meet!”

“Okay!” she said cheerfully, then stepped to the side and glanced at Barry before saying, “I should go.”

“Of course. Happy birthday, Iris.”

Her tongue swelled up in her mouth and she swallowed before nodding and smiling tremulously.

“Thanks.”

“Iris. Iris. Iris!”

Her eyes flashed open. She was breathing heavily, sweating, back in bed, the party disappeared from her sight. Aunt Cora was sitting beside her.

“Oh, child, you scared me.” Her hand flew to her chest. “I couldn’t wake you up. You’ve been asleep for hours. Didn’t you sleep at all last night?”

She had. She’d slept too much.

“I guess I just needed a little more, Aunt Cora.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re all right now. Will you come eat some lunch?”

“Barry left-” She was about to say pancakes, but stopped after his name tumbled out of her mouth, her whole world ceasing to exist all over again.

“Now, now, no more tears today.” Cora dabbed at the two that trickled down her cheeks. “I’ll never get you to the kitchen at that rate.”

Iris fixed her eyes on her aunt, swallowed and licked her lips.

“I wish you’d come over for dinner last night, darling.” She pushed the locks framing Iris’ face out of her eyes. “We had no idea you were still here. We thought…” she trailed off. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter what we thought. You’ll come stay in the guest room tonight and then head back to your little apartment in the city tomorrow.”

Iris frowned. “I have two weeks till classes start again, Aunt Cora.”

“And you want to stay here? With all these memories?”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she admitted softly.

Cora pressed her lips to the side of her face.

“Then you shan’t be.”

Iris felt warmth spread through her body, a comforting warmth, what always settled in her when she was being comforted by her aunt.

“You can stay as long as you like.” She pulled back. “Now come eat, so that stomach of yours stops grumbling. I could hear it even in your sleep.”

Iris managed a soft laugh, then shifted out of the bed and followed her aunt to the door. She paused in the doorway to look back at the bed, and the memory of last night flitted before her eyes, she and Barry in bed laughing and smiling and holding each other.

“Iris?”

It was her aunt again. She blinked and finally made her way back into the kitchen to the scene of the crime.

...

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

#westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #remember that night #chapter 2

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saiilorstars · 4 years ago

Text

Rise Up

Ch.3: Lonesome Rogues

Previous Story: It Had To Be You || Current Masterlist

Pairings: Barry Allen x Female OC

Chapter Summary: The Snarts have made their way back to STAR Labs only this time they're in need of help.

Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog

Maritza Palayta knew by now not to expect many visits for her, from anyone. She counted herself lucky if Belén decided to stop by once a month. Having her mother sitting in front of her now was something beyond shocking.

"Mom?" the word tumbled from Maritza's mouth before she could even finished thinking.

Veronica stood on the other side of the glass, her facial features not as readable as they once were. She didn't know what to make of her eldest daughter now. She'd been there for Maritza's sentencing, head held high but nothing but disapproving of Maritza. Never in Veronica's mind did she ever consider her daughter becoming a metahuman and much less a criminal.

"I didn't expect you to visit me..." Maritza said after a minute of awkward silence. "At all."

"Should I?" Veronica's tone was cold, but Maritza knew she deserved it. In her mother's perspective, she ruined their reputation in the police department both in Central City and in Starling City.

"I don't know," Maritza answered honestly. "I don't let Axel visit, and I'm lucky if Belén decides to give me the time of day, so...to what do I owe this visit?"

Veronica closed her eyes, sighing. "If you haven't seen Belén already, I think you know what my situation is right now..."

"Ah," Maritza slightly raised her head. "Are you still bothering Belén about my son's custody? You know I left instructions, written out legally, of who I wanted to look after my son, right?"

"Maritza, we both know that Belén is neither ready nor has the means to sustain herself and a child," Veronica remained adamant in that aspect. She viewed this as logically as she could and it was the simple truth. On her own, Belén was able to pay for herself and do her own things, but having a child was something completely life-changing. "You and I, we had our children at a decent age. At a time where we were physically, emotionally and economically ready to care for a child."

"Well, one of us was," Maritza corrected coldly. "Because I may have gone down the wrong path, killed people, but I was always there for my son no matter what. Can you say the same? Where the hell were you?"

"I accept my faults," Veronica lowered her gaze, surprising Maritza for a second there. She'd never won a small disagreement like that, ever. "And after seeing how each of my children have ended up...I realize I should've been there more. It's why I want to try and get close to Belén."

"Your words are nice but your actions say something else," Maritza sighed. "You want Belén, fine, but on your terms and that's not going to work, Mom. And that's the problem. Mom, I love you, I really do. In your own way I know you love us back but you are making the biggest mistake of your life. You lost Dad, Rayan, me...do you really want to lose Belén too?" Maritza so desired for her mother to see the errors she was making. She would want nothing more than the last remaining family of hers to be together.

Veronica swallowed hard and looked down. "I am trying-"

"No, you're fighting," Maritza corrected her softly. "Mom-" she laughed softly, "-stop fighting and help Belén instead. You think it doesn't kill me to know she's struggling because she has to raise my son? I wish nothing more than to change what I did, but I can't. But you...you still have a chance to mend your errors. You want to have a relationship with Belén? Prove to her that you are committed to seeing her perspective for once."

Maritza hoped her mother would heed her words because she was sure if Veronica kept going forth with her plan, Belén would never forgive her.

~ 0 ~

"So my mother has filed for custody of Axel," Belén sighed as she explained to Barry. The two were sitting on the steps of her front porch. Little by little, they had scooted closer to each other. "Like, she actually filed for it. I thought she was angry and bluffing but she wasn't. And you know she did it because I said 'no' to going back with her to Star City."

Barry was honestly shocked to hear what Veronica did. He never had the pleasure of meeting her and actually talking with her in a full conversation, but this was enough to put her on his bad list. "I'm so sorry Belén..."

Belén sighed and glanced at him with a sad smile. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to spread my depressive news to you."

Barry smiled back for a moment before assuring her everything was fine. He'd come by with the intention of asking her to lunch since they still hadn't had the chance of going on a date since their break up. But as soon as he'd taken a look at her face - which was after asking her to lunch - he saw something was wrong. And boy was he right.

He took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss. "We'll figure something out, Bells."

"C'mon. I'm 26 I don't know the first clue about being a pseudo-mother to a four year old. I'm selling my childhood house to keep up with bills. Maybe, on some level, my mom's right to file for custody..."

"You're doing everything you can, and you know what? If your mother is truly concerned then maybe she could help instead of doing...this!" Barry couldn't help the anger lacing his words the more he thought about Veronica's actions. "If she wants to fight, then let's make sure our fight is a damn good one."

Belén was smiling softly, and he had no idea why. The way he'd automatically joined her side with 'our fight' made her feel...warm. She missed that. A lot. "I'm glad you're around again."

The smile that came to Barry's face was automatic. His hand gripped hers and there was a moment where he thought he couldn't ever let go of her hand. "So am I."

"And...I'm sorry about the whole...date thing...I'm-"

"-I get it Bells," Barry reassured her again. "We can go another time."

"Are you sure?" Belén asked, still mighty guilty. It'd been some time since they technically were trying to be together again and it was rather hard to do when there were no dates involved.

"Yes! C'mon," Barry stood up and, with his hand still holding hers, made her get up as well. "Let's go to STAR Labs. Cisco might be done with the breach search, remember? Portals into another world might be something fun to see, you know..."

Belén dramatically sighed. "For nerds, I guess." Barry deadpanned her until she laughed. "Alright, let's go see this breach thing. I need to pick up Axel anyways."

~0~

Indeed Cisco had finished with the breach search and found quite more than he would've thought. Down in the basement of STAR Labs gathered the group save for Stein, Iris and Joe to look at the biggest breach of them all...which turned out to be out of 53 in the entire city. It resembled a blue, moving blob suspended in air over a small platform.

"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" Cisco couldn't stop looking at the breach.

"It looks like a blob," Belén crinkled her nose. Cisco immediately shot her a look of offence for diminishing the breach's worth.

"Still can't believe what I'm looking at," Jay admitted.

"52 breaches in Central City, and the biggest one just happens to be in our basement," Caitlin remarked, totally unsurprised by the turn of events.

"We need a name for it," Cisco popped a finger in the air.

"It's not a pet, dude," Barry's words meant nothing for Cisco who was already on a brainstorming path.

"No," professor Stein walked in carrying a squared monitor hanging on a strap, "It's a wormhole."

Caitlin immediately turned for the man. "Professor Stein, what are you doing? Your blood pressure is 147 over 82! You could pass out again."

Stein didn't look the least bit worried over his condition despite the fact he had collapsed a few days ago while giving the group a lecture. "Oh, it's merely a few points above the 140 average for someone my age. Besides, I have some ideas I would like to contribute to this discussion, Dr. Snow."

"And I want to hear them. This isn't just a wormhole. It's my way home," Jay reminded them all. "Back to Earth Two."

"Jay, you really think that we can use this as some kind of bridge from your world to ours?" asked Barry.

"Zoom uses the breaches. Why can't we?"

"We don't know how. Everything I put through just bounces back," Cisco sighed.

Axel, who had been left sitting at a nearby desk looked up from his drawings he was working on. "Can we throw more things!?" he excitedly asked.

Not even waiting for the answer, he grabbed his crayon box and hopped off his chair to run for the breach. He and Cisco had taken turns throwing things into the breach earlier to see if they would come back and he was mighty disappointed when Caitlin came in to tell them not to do it anymore. He liked seeing everything they threw be bounced back at them.

"Cisco!" Belén exclaimed as the boy made a beeline for the breach, his arm already raised to throw the crayon box.

"Got him!" Cisco snagged Axel of his feet as he passed by him.

"Aw," Axel frowned. Everyone laughed at the young boy.

"I can't believe you," Belén shook her head at Cisco for yet again teaching something wrong to her nephew.

"If Zoom's using these breaches to transport people from Earth Two, maybe it takes a speedster," Barry suddenly theorized and gave a smirk.

"Barry don't-" Belén didn't get to finish when he sped out of the room. "He wouldn't…" she dared to think that Barry wouldn't be that impulsive.

But...Jay knew better. "Yeah, he is," he answered with eyes shut.

A second later, Barry sped into the room straight for the breach only to be thrown backwards. He landed in a small roll on the floor and groaned. "Maybe I'm not fast enough."

This time it was only Axel who burst into laughter. "Boom! Barry went boom!"

"Yeah!" Cisco gave him a high-five, missing Barry throwing them a mini-glare as he got back on his feet.

"I don't believe your speed is the entirety of the issue, Barry. It might be the breach's stability or lack thereof," Stein hypothesized more correctly.

"He's right," Jay nodded. "We need to think of the breach as a door, and on Earth Two, there's another door. In between, we have a hallway, but the hallway's constantly shifting, twisting, collapsing upon itself. And the doors keep moving with it."

"So we stabilize the door, we stabilize the hallway," Cisco understood the idea.

"And then I can jump through it," Barry beamed.

"Exactly, it would serve as a kind of cannon," Jay smiled but no one like Cisco.

"A speed cannon. Mm. We should hang out more," Cisco pointed at him, making the others laugh.

"Alright," Stein cut into the laughter. "No more tests today. All of you are leaving now, as am I. Cherish the gift of youth as I will go cherish my much needed nap." He motioned the entire group to get going. "Clarissa's already on her way to pick me up. Why not go get some coffee?"

"That is a fantastic idea!" Cisco agreed, already rubbing his hands together at the thought of some sweet coffee. "Jitters anyone?"

"You paying?" Belén teased.

"Can I get some chocolate milk?" Axel rushed up to Belén with his own hands put together. When Belén saw that she sighed do deeply.

"You have got to stop spending so much time with Cisco, buddy."

The others snickered while Cisco let out a mighty offended gasp with a hand over his chest.

~0~

Iris joined the group for some midday coffee and was excited to hear about the breach discovery, though not so much after she learned there 53 in their city. While Barry went to get their coffee, the others remained at the table chatting. Belén, however, was pulled away from the conversation when her phone started ringing. Seeing it was her mother calling, she dumped her phone into her purse and decided to go help Barry bring back their drinks.

"Need some help?" she asked him.

"Still waiting," Barry motioned to the barista running behind the counter. "You okay?" he noticed her anxious expression.

"Yeah," she said a bit too fast to be convincing. "Mom's calling and all."

"And you're not going to answer?"

"Not if I don't trust myself not to shout."

Barry thought that was fair enough. He pressed a kiss to her temple and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer to him. Belén smiled to herself and got to thinking about the fact they hadn't really kissed either.

What kind of getting-back-together is this? Belén wondered if Barry had thought about it too. If he had, then he was being really good about it.

"Order 20!" A barista slid a coffee on the counter then hurried to continue with other orders.

A blonde woman leaned on the couple's side to reach for her drink then offered a shy smile at them once they could see her clearly. Only a couple days were needed to learn that Patty Spivot was a shy woman.

"Hey guys," she greeted with a wave of her free hand. She seemed far more cheery than when they first met her (separately). It stemmed from the fact she was finally on the metahuman task force at the precinct.

"Hey, Patty," Barry greeted. He looked down at Belén and realized he never introduced them, not that they didn't know each other already. "Oh, this is-"

Belén chuckled and lowered his gesturing hand before he could finish. "We already know each other, don't we?" she looked at Patty who laughed as well.

"Yeah, she's the one that gave me the advice to continue hassling Joe for a spot on the task force."

"I've been meaning to congratulate you, actually," Belén said. "Barry told me Joe let you in. I'm sure you'll be great."

Patty sheepishly smiling. "I'm hoping." Her smile sort of faltered when she noticed Belén's injured arm was...no longer injured. "Sorry, um...how's your arm?"

"Hm?" Belén quickly looked at her perfect arms. Her metahuman abilities kicked in and aided her in healing quicker than a normal human.

"Oh, um, it's fine. It's still a little sore but since the bullet didn't actually hit my arm it healed quicker," Belén cleared her throat and looked at the counter that was being filled with their drinks. Patty seemed to buy it since she gave an 'oh' and smiled about it.

As Barry tried gathering all of the, together, Belén laughed and decided to help. "Bells, it's hot," he said and then motioned to her hands.

"Oh shut up," she playfully rolled her eyes and took at two cups. She glanced back at Patty who was taking a sip of her coffee. "Do you want to have some coffee with us?"

Patty's eyes snapped back to the two. "Hm? Oh, no thanks," she shook her head. "I was stopping here on my way to work. Another day? I owe you for your help."

"Sure," Belén beamed at the idea.

"Great," Patty stepped aside to let the two get on with their coffee.

"C'mon," Belén led Barry away. "I like her."

"I do too. She's lively and she knows her way around a crime scene," Barry said, missing Belén's sarcastic glance.

"Hmm, young, pretty, blonde and a nerd? Should I be worried?"

"Wh-what!?" At that point he nearly did dropped the cups in his hands. "I-I no! That's...that's not at all what I meant, Bells!"

Belén laughed as they approached their table.

"What's with you two?" Iris eyed them.

"Oh, nothing, just teasing Barry on his new girlfriend," Belén said calmly as she took her seat next to Axel.

"She's not-" Barry began rather adamantly before he realized this was just another play of hers. He sighed and shook his head. "That's not funny," he pointed at her with a stern finger.

"Seems pretty funny from my end," she said slyly and picked up her coffee.

"Hey, you guys think Professor Stein is okay, right?" Caitlin didn't even pick up her own cup before thinking yet again on Professor Stein. "I mean, Clarissa would call if there was anything wrong."

"Yeah, of course," Barry said to her, but apparently it wasn't enough to convince her.

She grabbed her phone and started getting up. "All right. I'm just gonna call and check in. I'll be back."

"Uh- I don't see that call going well," Cisco said right before he started imitating Stein. "Young lady, these repeated intrusions are interrupting what should be a speedy recov-" but in the midst of his mockery he bumped into a passing brunette woman. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

The brunette looked up and revealed herself as Lisa Snart who answered in her usual flirty tone. "Don't apologize. You can bump into me any day, Cisco."

"Lisa Snart," Cisco's eyes widened.

"Oh, hell no," Belén said outright annoyed. Meanwhile, Barry tried hiding behind his coffee cup.

"You here to double-cross us again, or are you and your big bro holding up coffee shops now?" asked Cisco.

"Auntie Belén," Axel once again tugged on her good arm. "Who's she?"

"Someone who needs to go," Belén answered loudly for Lisa to get the point. "I would think you and your brother would stay away from places where there's children present."

Lisa didn't respond in her usual snarky tone. "I need your help," she said instead.

"In your dreams, Sister Cold," Cisco nearly laughed.

"I think her brain was finally frozen," Belén stared at the woman. "You do realize we could call in the Flash and the Azalea at any moment, right?"

Lisa nodded. "Call him. I know you two have a thing, so call him."

Barry nearly choked on his coffee while Belén gaped. Iris just smirked - she kinda liked this Lisa Snart.

"Unbelievable," Belén looked away, her face rather warm. "Was it that obvious?"

Her response was a very loud scoff from Iris.

Cisco had been studying Lisa in the meanwhile and had noticed something was just off with her. There was an actual shred of fear sitting in her eyes, and...concern? Was that even possible in a Snart?

"You really want us to call then," he said in realization.

"I need their help too," Lisa confessed. "My brother's been kidnapped."

~ 0 ~

Of course very curious to see what Lisa meant, the group took her back to STAR Labs to get the full story. However, both Belén and Barry made the excuse they had to go take Axel somewhere else - they may have forgotten their excuse as soon as Lisa was gone with Caitlin and Cisco. Instead, they let Iris take Axel and the two beat the trio to STAR Labs to get changed.

"I saw it happen," Lisa swore. She stood in the middle of the cortex, explaining her situation to the group before they would send her off. "Last night, Lenny, me, and Mick were knocking over the cashier's cage at Central City Racetrack-"

"Does it physically pain your family not to rob people?" Belén blamed herself for being so surprised when she knew she was dealing with a family of criminals.

Lisa rolled her eyes. "I never finished the job. After Mick torched through the side entrance, I looked back for Lenny and saw him getting thrown into the back of a van."

"And why didn't you and Mick follow?" asked Barry.

"I would have. Someone hit me from behind and knocked me out," Lisa gestured to her head. "When I came to, Lenny was gone, and Mick already made off with the cash."

"How do we know this isn't some kind of a trap?" Cisco logically wondered.

"If Lenny wanted Flash dead, he would have let Mardon, Simmons, and Bivolo take that honor, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Barry mumbled, thinking of it as yet another logical reason not to help them again.

"Good. Then you'll also recall that you owe Lenny a favor for saving your life. Time to make good on that debt."

"Even if we wanted to help, how are we supposed to find him?" Barry asked honestly.

Cisco turned on his feet and walked for the desk. "Not a problem. See, when I rebuilt the cold gun, I didn't have time to place a tracker on it, so I devised a method of locating it by borrowing some military technology." He started typing on the computer. "See, the gun works the same as thermal imaging, only instead of infrared heat signatures, it's looking for ultraviolet cold signatures. Whoa, look at that. The gun's UV thermal reading was last picked up at 5th and Hoyt eight minutes ago."

"All right. Let's see if you're a liar," Barry said to Lisa before speeding out.

"I'm not," Lisa argued but he had already left.

"That's debatable," Belén said under her breath, but not as quiet as she thought because Lisa had heard perfectly.

As it turned out, Cisco was right on where to find Snart. However, they did not account for Snart being with his father. As a result, Barry ended up being nearly frozen to death. Thanks to Cisco's new addition to the suit, the ice melted into nothing and he was able to return to STAR Labs where he had half a mind to tell Lisa Snart off.

"So your brother was not kidnapped. He was pulling a job with your father," he sourly informed Lisa upon arriving.

Lisa was nothing but confused. "What? No, Lenny would never do that."

"Oh, just like he would never try and kill The Flash with his cold gun?" Belén pretended to think. "Do you know your brother?"

Lisa still couldn't get over the confusion. It was the first clue that perhaps she wasn't lying to them. "Are you sure it was my dad?"

Cisco pulled up a reference file of her father. Caitlin walked over to the computer hanging on the wall. "That's him. Lewis Snart. Convicted of larceny, armed robbery, aggravated assault, assault with a deadly weapon."

"You have to believe me," Lisa pleaded. "Lenny would never work with him," she then added, like it was a secret no one in the room knew, "He's a bad guy."

"Did you miss the memo or something?" Belén honestly wondered if Lisa was just pretending she and her family weren't criminals. She was aware she was being ruder than usual but when it came to the Snarts she had no control.

"Why should we trust anything you say?" Caitlin crossed her arms.

Lisa stared at them a minute and then pulled on her jacket and blouse's collar to reveal a long scar running around the side of her neck. "I didn't get this scar being a criminal. I got it being a daughter," she mumbled and walked away.

The others, feeling a bit guilty, meant to follow her and get her back when Cisco stopped them. "Let me go. I got this," he made a gesture and left the room.

"I have to get to work," Belén knew she couldn't last long in the same room as a Snart. She was going to crack. "Every time I see a Snart all I think of is my sister's secret. Maybe the Azalea can take a rain check here."

"Don't worry," Barry said, understanding this wasn't one of her best moments. "We'll call you if something comes up."

Belén thanked him for it and took her leave. However when Barry got to thinking what she was planning on doing at work, he followed her out to the elevators.

"Uh, Bells, hold on a minute," his call stopped her in time. "About that article you, Linda and Iris are doing..."

Belén nodded, already knowing where this was going. She'd talked to him and the others about what they were doing and needless to say he was a little concerned with her decision.

"Barry, it'll be fine," she tried to say but he just couldn't agree so easily.

"I just don't think it's a good idea looking at where we are right now," he sighed. "You wanting to be the Azalea isn't the problem here, you know..."

"I do," Belén agreed, crossing her arms. "But if I live my life in fear because someone from another world decided to hunt me down...I'll never be happy."

"Datura is hunting you down for whatever reason and you letting the city know that the Azalea is alive might just give her more fuel to hurt you."

"Either way, Barry, she's coming to hurt me," Belén stepped closer to him, putting on her best encouraging smile for him. "Might as well let her know who she's dealing with."

Barry's lips briefly quirked into a smile. He loved hearing her so brave and sure of herself. He didn't want to be the reason it disappeared, but he just wished he could stop worrying so much.

~ 0 ~

Belén met with Linda to look over their almost finished draft. Since it was Iris' day off, they wanted to have everything finished for tomorrow so they could just give it another proofread and turn it in.

"This is really good," Linda said after reading some of Belén's lines. "Your perspective on the Azalea's disappearance is really interesting."

"Thanks," Belén felt a little ridiculous for taking a comment about a piece she did about herself. "I just think the city should wonder if this woman was away for so long then maybe it's for a big reason."

"I think they'll believe it," Linda said with absolute certainty. "And you know what, maybe reading this might encourage the Azalea to come back."

Belén smiled at their draft. "I think so."

"Belén?"

Belén inwardly groaned when she heard her mother's voice. "Mom," she turned away from her desk to find Veronica approaching her. "Seriously? You can't do this at my job-"

But Veronica calmly raised a hand to stop her. "I'm not here to argue. I want to talk. For real."

Admittedly this did stump Belén for a minute. Her mother seemed calm, calmer than any time she'd seen her as of late.

"You can talk in the conference room," Linda suggested, nodding her head towards the empty room behind her. "No one will bother you there."

"Thank you," Veronica told her before walking towards the room, leaving not much of a choice for Belén.

"I'll be back soon," Belén promised Linda then followed her mother. She closed the glass doors and readied herself for whatever her mother threw at her.

"Bells, your mother's here…" Caitlin's eyes were widened as a gesture that she was pretty nervous of Veronica's appearance.

"Belén, please. I have a proposition," Veronica came out with it in one go, however Belén had a different idea of what she meant by a proposition.

"If it's me and Axel getting out of the city then you can forget-"

"I want to stay," Veronica surprised Belén so much that for the next minute Veronica had free range in the conversation to say what she needed to. "I've been going wrong about this, and I get it, and I'm sorry. I'm just...I've lost my kids, and not just from the divorce, but from life. Rayan's gone, Maritza's gone, even David's gone. And I thought that staying away was the best thing. I've always done better when I'm alone..."

"How'd that work out for you this time?" Belén crossed her arms, unable to keep her resentment at bay. "Because for us it didn't go too well."

"I was wrong," Veronica knew those three words would become part of her daily vocabulary. "I have never been very good at expressing my feelings and when I do they're always in the wrong manner. But you just have to know that I do love you, okay? You're my daughter, how could I not?"

"I have never doubted that," Belén said quietly, shifting on her feet. "But you have never, ever, tried to see things from another person's perspective. Everything always has to be your way or it just blows up."

"I know, I see that now," Veronica nodded her head. "That's why I want to stay here in the city, and change, so that I can be that mother you need. I know things will never be perfect, but I want to try."

"You say that now but by Sunday you'll be back to your regular self," Belén remarked.

"Not this time. I mean it. I already made calls to SCPD to transfer here."

Belén's eyes widened. "You...you did that?"

"Mhm. I'm hoping to get transferred here, at the CCPD. And look," Veronica went back to her purse where she pulled out a manila folder, "this is something else I think could be good for both of us." She walked up to Belén and held out the folder.

Eyes glued on her mother, Belén took the folder and opened it up. She skimmed a couple of lines which resulted in a contract...and proposition?

"What the hell is this?" she looked up.

"I want to buy the house off you," Veronica declared. Belén's mouth fell open once again. "It's clear you and I can't live together, and maybe it's for the best now. You're a young woman who, as you've said, is trying to make her life now. You're selling the house and I would like to buy it."

Belén's eyes nearly popped out from her head from how wide they were.

"And-" Veronica continued with a gesture that Belén should keep looking through the papers, "-I want you to sign Axel's custody over to me, but-" she raised a finger when she saw Belén opening her mouth to argue, "-with conditions. I honestly don't think you are ready to take on the responsibility of a child. It's not that I think you are incapable. I just think you're too young for this."

"I am-"

"Belén please just stop being stubborn and view things logically for a moment," Veronica pleaded. Belén snapped shut the folder but adhered to the request. "You're at the starting point of your life. You just had an accident, your job is barely beginning, and I even hear you're starting a relationship again, and all that gets complicated when you have a child to look after. Tell me you haven't gone crazy looking for babysitters? Axel goes to school now and that can't be easy when it's only three hours a day. Plus, I can't imagine the sleepless nights you've had trying to look after him. He's four and he doesn't have his mother anymore. I know you're trying, but...it has to be hard for you, right?"

Belén bit her lip, her initial annoyance subsiding when she got to thinking. Of course there'd been days where she just couldn't find someone to look after Axel while she went to train for the aerial show or even just to go to work. There were sleepless nights that often had her nearly falling asleep at work. Then there were moments that she just didn't know how to talk to Axel, especially when he asked about Maritza.

"I'm not trying to take Axel away from you. On the contrary, I want to stay here in the city, live in the old house with Axel where you and I can make plans to see each other more often. I'm going to get old eventually," Veronica smiled lightly, "And when that time comes, you'll probably have a family of your own and then you'll know how to care for Axel and your children. It'll be your decision to have them."

Belén re-opened the folder to look things over again. Her mind was fumbling with different ideas but they were all screaming at her to agree. This was the closest thing her mother had ever done to benefit her and Belén couldn't find it in her to disagree when her mother seemed to be honest. Because in the end, she did love her mom and she did want to form some sort of relationship before it was too late.

~ 0 ~

Returning to STAR Labs (as the Azalea), Belén came to quite a sight. Lisa was sitting on a stool with Barry and Caitlin, the former as the Flash and holding some sort of whirring device in front of Lisa's neck.

"What in the hell is going on here?" Belén walked over to them.

"There's a bomb inside Lisa's that her father put," Caitlin responded then moved on to tell Barry, "Once you hold it steady with the magnet, I can surgically excise it."

Cisco came running into the room shouting for them to stop. "Put the magnet down! This is a really concentrated bomb. It's gonna combust if it's exposed to magnetic friction and an oxidant."

Caitlin and Barry retracted one large step away from Lisa who shared the same confused face as Belén.

"In English please?" Belén asked them.

"Air. Uh, the bomb will explode if it comes in contact with air," Barry replied.

"Scientific minds. Can we confer, please?" Cisco motioned to be followed into a side room.

"Yeah, I'm not scientific but I don't want to be near her," Belén mumbled and flashed an apologetic smile at Lisa. "This time no offence."

For once Lisa smiled back.

"What if Flash speed extracts it?" Caitlin wondered once they were in a separate room.

"Nope, it's too risky," Cisco shook his head. "I'm gonna find a way to get it out. I just need a little time."

"But you could lose track of Snart and his dad," Belén pointed out.

"I wish we knew what he was gonna steal next and when," Barry said, thinking. It only took a moment for an idea to pop into his head. "Maybe I can get them to tell me. Their tech guy is dead, so I'm betting they're gonna need a new one. I should infiltrate Lewis' crew."

Belén burst into a fit of laughter but abruptly stopped when she met Barry's offended face. "Oh, you weren't kidding?"

"No, I wasn't," Barry frowned.

"You're gonna pretend to be a criminal?" even Caitlin was surprised of the idea.

"How hard can it be?" Barry shrugged, not thinking about it too much.

"How do I say it nicely…?" Belén mumbled, thinking for a minute before coming up with, "...you're kind of a dork."

Barry tilted his head at her. Was this the best she could come up with? And she was trying to be nice. "Well, as long as you're being nice."

Belén smiled. "You know I mean that affectionately, but...you just have a thing about you that screams…"

"Nerd?" Cisco finished, or blurted.

Belén laughed again. "That's the word!"

Barry shook his head at them. "Thanks guys, really."

"Oh, c'mon," Belén couldn't stop laughing however and so Barry left the room before they added more to his apparent persona.

~0~

"He actually went through with it," Belén couldn't say she was surprised Barry went through with his idea to pretend to be a criminal and tag along with Snart and his dad.

Caitlin laughed as the two walked for the cortex holding respective cups of coffee in their hands. "I think he might have done it just to prove us wrong."

When the two women returned to the cortex Cisco had devised a new way to retrieve the bomb from inside Lisa. He had fashioned a gun-like device with a fitted clear tube sticking above from it.

"What exactly are you gonna do to me with that thing?" Lisa hadn't stopped staring at the big gun she knew was going to be aimed at her pretty soon.

"Operating pressure on this is over 1,000 PSI. This will easily suck the micro-bomb out of your neck and into the barrel of this with one high-powered sho," Cisco tapped the top of the gun. "There is one slight risk."

"Besides shooting a high-powered weapon directly against my neck? "

"The gun does use compressed air," Cisco admitted and looked at the other two women.

Lisa reached a hand on his arm and softly said. "I trust you, Cisco."

"Maybe that's one thing we have in common," Belén smiled at Cisco. "Do your thing. But, uh...we'll be over here," she gestured to herself, Axel and Caitlin.

Cisco nodded a thanks and moved a bit to the side to finish the last bit of the gun. Almost at the same time, Belén's cellphone went off. She took it and walked to the side to take Iris' call, not that she had much of a conversation since Iris was in a fit.

"Bells? I need you!" Iris blurted frantically, worrying Belén she was in trouble.

"What? What is it!?"

"It's just...my dad told me that...that my Mom was actually alive and-"

"He what?" Belén's mouth fell open. "She's...like...breathing-alive?"

"Oh yeah, the whole thing. Please, I just...I really need someone I can talk to with 'mom problems'. Didn't even know I could have those," she mumbled in the end.

"Y-yeah, don't worry. Are you home?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll be right over," Belén promised and hung up. "I have to go but I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Is everything alright?" Caitlin asked once she detected something was off in Belén's tone.

"Yeah, um...I hope," Belén pushed herself up from her chair. "I'll be back later, promise."

"We'll handle things," Caitlin assured.

Belén thanked her once more and hurried to find Iris. Like the woman had said, Iris was sitting at home completely alone. She had Axel coloring at the dining table actually quiet. She had pulled up several of her old albums that happened to contain some of her mother's pictures. It was all completely crazy to her. First, she thought her mother was dead and now apparently Francine was more than alive. But then...her father told her that Francine was dying. How was she supposed to think when there was all that behind it?

She nearly jumped from the couch when she heard someone knocking. She opened it up and was relieved to find Belén on the other side. "Thanks for coming, Bells."

"Yeah, of course," Belén walked in but not before giving her a hug. "I can't believe your mom's alive."

"Me neither," Iris said and closed the door. "I didn't have anyone to talk to about this. I mean, I tried getting through to Barry but he wasn't answering-"

"Oh, he's off being a criminal," Belén waved that off and headed into the living room. Iris made a face behind but filed that under 'ask later'.

"Bells, I'm so confused. I saw her today," Iris stopped by the couch, allowing Belén to sit down first. Belén reached for an open photo album with a picture of a baby Iris and her mother. "Like...she was there, and…" Iris shook her head, still unable to believe it.

"How is she?" Belén thought to ask.

"She's...put together," Iris took a seat beside her. "My Dad said that...she used to be a drug addict. She was put together and I told her...to go away. That's what I said to her."

"I think that's completely understandable. I mean, if she left…"

"Oh, she left," Iris said with a bit of resentment in her tone. "She just got up and left and then suddenly decided she wanted to see me again." But even then Iris knew that wasn't the complete truth. "She's...sick. That's what she told my dad. But...I don't know if I can believe her. She's made my dad lie this whole time who knows what comes out of her mouth now."

"Well, you're a reporter, research her," Belén instructed. "You're the daughter of a cop, and a badass of a reporter. This is your perfect talent. Use it."

"And if it turns out to be true?" Iris asked quietly. "If my mom...is dying...what do I do?"

"I can't tell you what to do," Belén shook her head. "I mean, you see the problems I'm having with my own mother, but if Francine came back at this moment...she probably wanted to make amends before she…" made a gesture and sighed. "But you have to be really committed. You can't do it out of guilt. It's okay if you don't want to know her because the truth of the matter is, while biologically she's your mother...she was never A a mother to you. I think she would understand that."

Iris nodded. "Yeah," she mumbled.

Belén stared at her for a minute before reaching over and hugging her again. "Come here!" Iris smiled as she was rocked a bit by the woman. "If you want we could research together."

Iris truly thought about it for a minute but went against it in the end. "I need to do it alone. But thank you so much."

"Don't worry, I understand," Belén nodded her head. "But you also need to understand that I'm gonna hug you for five more minutes."

Iris laughed.

~ 0 ~

At one point in the heist he was being forced to pull, Barry wondered how he would rub it in Belén's face that his plan had gone right so far. She thought he was too dorky to actually play off being a trained techy criminal. She so owed him, that much he knew.

Now as the Flash, he appeared to Snart and his father right at the end of their heist, ready to stop them. Both of them were getting ready to leave the vault with all the diamonds they found.

"Only place you're going is back to Iron Heights, Lewis," Barry spat at the older man he really disliked, and not just because he had shot him five minutes ago.

Snart raised his cold gun at Barry but did not shoot. Lewis, on the other hand, just smiled. "Ah, you wanna bet?"

That was the question wasn't it? Barry raised a hand to his earpod. "Do I wanna bet?

"Do not bet!" he immediately heard Cisco's shout. "Give me a minute."

"Tell me this, what kind of man puts a bomb in his own daughter?" Barry started to ask, hoping Cisco wouldn't be too long.

"A very rich man," Lewis smirked. "Shoot him, son." But as Snart failed to do so, Lewis pulled out a small, silver device that Barry assumed was the controller of the bomb inside Lisa. "Kill him or you'll never see your sister alive."

Barry wondered how this could play out where both he and Lisa got out alive. Thankfully, he didn't have to think for too long before he heard Cisco's 'okay'.

"Lisa's safe," he told Snart. Almost on reflex, Snart redirected his cold gun at his father and shot him square in the chest.

Lewis fell on his knees with nearly his entire body covered in ice. "You're working with The Flash? I thought you hated him?"

"Not as much as I... hate you," Snart responded, almost trembling from the hatred he felt for the man now dead on the floor.

Barry cautiously moved up to Snart and gently pulled the cold gun from his hands - to which the other man didn't even fight for. "Lisa was safe. Why did you do that?"

Snart looked up with cold eyes. "He broke my sister's heart. Only fair I break his."

~0~

With the Snarts' dilemma finished - however badly it was - the rest of the team called it a day. Belén hadn't stopped by STAR Labs anymore due to the time, so she left Iris' place with Axel and returned home. She put Axel to bed, with the promise that things would be looking better for them now. He was certainly excited to learn his grandmother would be staying in the city. His excitement deterred his sleep but eventually, after two or three bedtime stories, Belén got him to fall asleep.

She had to admit, the idea of having her mother around - on good terms - was something that made her smile.

Her thoughts about the new arrangement were interrupted when she found her dining table decorated with candles and dinner she'd most certainly hadn't cooked. (She may or may not have bought Axel take out and called it dinner).

"This is a surprise," she admitted when she saw Barry standing next to the table. He was holding one azalea in his hand and was wearing a nice outfit.

"The many perks of being a speedster means I can basically be a ninja," Barry smirked which just made her laugh. He moved up to her and held the azalea out for her. "I know we didn't have a chance for a nice date outside and I know it's just harder for you right now, so...I thought maybe a house-date might work better."

"House date," Belén repeated with a soft chuckle. "Thank you for that." She took her azalea from his hand and gave it a sniff. "And thank you for my flower. My deadly, poisonous flower."

"Yeah, keep that away from Axel..."

Belén playfully rolled her eyes and gazed at the dinner table. "Thank you for this. All of it. I really love it. I'm just sad I'm not better dressed."

"What are you talking about? You're looking lovely as usual," Barry dramatically gestured at her.

"Barry, stop," Belén laughed but Barry continued on with his compliments, from her hair to her shoes. Eventually she managed to quiet him down only to keep Axel from waking up.

The two sat close to each other at the table and started on their dinner. It was from the same restaurant they visited on their first date.

"Good points, Mr. Allen," Belén pointed her fork at Barry. "Only this time I'm not going to spit anything out."

Barry nearly laughed when he remembered her spitting out a spicy meal she'd ordered on their first date. "I thought it was cute."

"It was awful. I'm surprised you didn't walk out there and then," Belén reached for a sip of her drink.

"Why would I? You were gorgeous then, and now I know you're the best thing that could ever happen to me."

Belén lowered her fork for a moment to smile at him. "You're smooth tonight. Thanks."

"I'm just glad you're smiling again," Barry passed a finger under her chin, widening her smile.

It was then that Belén realized she hadn't told him about her mother's latest visit that day. "My mom stopped by again..."

"Oh, Belén..." Barry figured Veronica pushed her again and was prepared to comfort her.

"No! Um...things actually got better," Belén felt weird just saying that sentence about her mother. She was so used to always having problems with Veronica. "She um, she...she made a proposition. She's buying the house from me. She's going to live here, actually, with Axel."

"She still made you give up custody?"

"No, uuh...I agreed," Belén nodded. She drew in a big breath before explaining her reasoning. "I love my nephew, I do, but I'm fully aware that I'm not ready to take care of him nor any child for that matter. I'm trying my best but if things keep going the way the were...I'm going to drown, Barry. I'm just...I'm not ready for it and I just want Axel to be okay..."

Barry set his hands on her shoulders to keep her from going into a long ramble that would eventually turn her face purple due to lack of oxygen. "I get it. You don't need to explain it to me."

"I don't want you to think I'm giving him up like if he were nothing."

"I would never think that. I've seen firsthand how much you love him. If you're making this choice it's because you're sure Axel is going to be okay. He's going to be good."

"I think he will be," Belén said with absolute certainty. "Mom's transferring to the precinct so she'll be around. Who knows, maybe this is our chance at actually having a relationship."

"I'm really happy for you, Bells," Barry said, taking his hands off her shoulders. "I'm glad Veronica finally came to her senses."

"Well..." Belén cleared her throat. Barry noticed her shifting on her chair and wondered what else she had to say. "She didn't come up with it entirely on her own. Maritza...actually inspired her." Barry's eyebrows raised together in shock. "I know," Belén chuckled lightly. "I was just as surprised as you were. Mom told me she visited Maritza and that Maritza basically called her out on everything."

"I mean...that was..." Barry couldn't even find the proper words to commend Maritza for her actions. It certainly brought a lot of happiness for Belén and that made him see Maritza in a new light.

"I'm thankful," Belén bit her lip nervously. "I'm basically getting a second chance with my Mom thanks to Maritza."

"I'm happy for you, a lot," Barry smiled.

Belén stared at him for a minute with a soft smile. "Yeah, things are finally getting better for me."

She got up from her chair and surprised Barry by sitting on his lap. She looped an arm around his neck and pressed her lips to his for a kiss. It was a much awaited kiss that was filled with feelings - some of those feelings were from the very day they'd broken up. Barry wrapped an arm of his around Belén's waist, keeping her steady as well keeping her close to his body. His free hand came to rest on her cheek and repeatedly stroked circles over her skin with his thumb.

They remained like that for a couple minutes until they felt their feelings for each other had been rekindled.

They gazed at each other with the same dazed smiles until someone spoke up.

"I need more dates like this," Belén spoke for the two of them.

Barry thought the same thing and went ahead and kissed her again.

Dinner was pushed back for a couple minutes.

#ocappreciation #arrowverseocs #the flash #barry allen #the flash fics #barry allen fics #barry allen imagines #the flash imagines #oc: Belén Palayta #oc: Belen Palayta #oc: datura #fic: rise up

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mesaylormoon · 4 years ago

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The Rocky Horror Picture Show: Let’s Do The Time Warp Again - A Review

With the 41st anniversary of The Rocky Horror Picture Show on the horizon, it no doubt made sense for 20th Century Fox to capitalize on the lucrative nature of such an iconic property. Their 2016 remake of the cult classic would offer old and new fans increased production values with an all-star cast, better set designs, energized music and dance numbers, a more flowing narrative, and a special appearance from Tim Curry as the criminologist. In spite of all these additions to this updated version of the midnight movie sensation, however, it still falls fantastically flat.

Films often suffer greatly if the actors involved are incapable of presenting believable, compelling performances, and this remake employs nothing but terrible actors. Ryan McCartan and Nickelodeon starlet Victoria Justice fill the roles of Brad Majors and Janet Weiss, and they are what absolutely destroys the potential of this version of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Both performers fail to capture the endearing personalities of their characters, and neglect to pay homage to the offbeat charm of their predecessors Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon. McCartan’s nervous, stiff attitude is apparent throughout, and contrasts distractingly with Bostwick’s friendliness, confidence, and eagerness to socialize with others. Brad Majors was not a particularly special character, but even in his dorkiest moments, Bostwick was able to convey a laid-back, likable energy for his role that this new actor could not.

Even worse than McCartan’s performance is the acting of his co-star, Justice. Words cannot express how unprepared this young woman was for film acting. This remake presents a terribly strong case for why her career should not have expanded beyond tween sitcoms, as her forced delivery and dramatically flighty behavior does not at all recognize the sweetness of Sarandon’s character. Janet Weiss was undeniably a damsel-in-distress, but in spite of her overreactions to meeting the Transylvanians, she was innocent, polite, gentle and wanted nothing more than a simple life with her fiance. Nothing about Justice’s acting echoes this sentiment, as she opts to shriek her lines at every opportunity and cower behind her love interest. While this behavior is similar to Sarandon’s characterization, Justice is clearly uncomfortable with naturally expressing fear. She always appears to lack direction, looking lost no matter where she is on set, and is too confident in real life to make a performance for a character like this believable.

Laverne Cox, Reeve Carney, Christina Milian, and Annaleigh Ashford play Dr. Frank-N-Furter, Riff Raff, Magenta, and Columbia, respectively. In spite of obvious attempts to respect the performances of the original actors, Carney as Riff Raff is the only person who seems to be trying to properly convey his character without losing the personality expressed by Richard O’Brien. He slithers, gives creepy grins, delivers his lines nasally, and perfectly captures the persona of the original Riff Raff. Unfortunately, however, the rest of the cast characterize their performances by role-reversing. Cox is a whiny, fay flailer who utterly lacks the seductive and suave charm of Tim Curry; Milian submits an overly energized, overly happy performance of the hot-headed, mischievous, subdued Patricia Quinn; and Ashford is hideously miscast as a disinterested Nell Campbell. Ashford’s performance is particularly disappointing, as Columbia is a vivacious, bubbly, and lovestruck girl who is likable in spite of her sometimes annoying behavior. Ashford is purely annoying throughout, pandering to an audience of angsty individuals who would have loved her acting in the 90s. Stanz Nair and Ben Vereen are about as obnoxious as their co-stars, but considering what small roles and little impact they make in the remake, they aren’t worth focusing too much criticism on.

The humor in The Rocky Horror Picture Show: Let’s Do The Time Warp Again is as desperate as the film itself. Instead of allowing hilarity to originate from character interactions or witty remarks, characters will often flail, scream, and suddenly widen their eyes. None of these moments are funny and just make the film seem as if it’s pandering to a younger audience.

While we’re dissecting less significant complaints one might have with this movie, the sexual content is disappointingly erased from this reimagining of the source material. Perhaps this could be considered a good change, but part of the reason The Rocky Horror Picture Show appealed to adult audiences was because it was such a shamelessly sensual movie. The filmmakers were not afraid to show scenes of characters having sex, and audience participation screenings have always featured raunchy references. One could argue that this is a defining feature of the film. Considering the convservative nature of 1970s attitudes, this is definitely a quality that helped The Rocky Horror Picture Show stand out.

However, because the remake was filmed for television, this material had to be largely scaled down to the point of non-existence, and there is little to nothing appealing about characters’ more intimate moments. It’s a bit disappointing considering there are some particularly funny scenes in which characters mistakenly have sex with people they thought were their romantic partners.

The increased budget of The Rocky Horror Picture Show remake allowed the crew to create beautiful setpieces and conduct highly stylized music and dance numbers. Each of these updates added a surprising amount of credibility to the source material that the original did not have. The choreography of every dance is much more complex and engaging than the original, and excites viewers in a way that the first film couldn’t. As much as I enjoy The Rocky Horror Picture Show, the dances were quite basic, employing little movement beyond awkward kicks, unimpressive jumps, and slow steps. The remake, however, requires more physical and challenging demands of dancers, who must be much more synchronized and ready to move at a fast pace. It’s easiest to appreciate when watching the film for oneself.

The songs, thankfully, are all derived from the original movie, but instead of retaining the ear-grating sound quality of decades-past, group recordings sound much more harmonious, and individual singers are allowed to shine as a result of a more carefully chosen vocal ensemble. If there are at least some things I can appreciate about this reimagining, it would be these things.

As much as I would like to continue acknowledging these improvements, I also believe that focusing on the polishing of the singing, dancing, and casting of conventionally beautiful actors is one of the biggest problems with the remake. The improvements that are made in this iteration of The Rocky Horror Picture Show are superficial, showing less concern for the quality of the narrative and characters and more concern for the quality of the “show-stopping” production elements. The cast of the remake are all attractive singers and dancers, but the original actors were not. They were average-looking people in a film that performed poorly upon release. Everything about the first movie - from a critical perspective - was awful, but that was the reason it found such a dedicated following. The source material relished in its awfulness. The actors, their performances, the narrative, the set designs, the songs, and the choreography never endeavored to be masterpieces. Midnight audiences could simply enjoy the community they found by participating in something of a “bad movie night.”

In any other remake, the beautifying of cinematic elements would not be an issue, but The Rocky Horror Picture Show was not meant to be a grandiose work of cinema. It always felt more like creator Richard O’Brien’s passion project - a project that, although it appeared insane on the surface, was a body of work that was not meant to conform to societal expectations. It was - and continues to be - a film that unites midnight moviegoers by the very nature of its strangeness. Audiences fell in love with it because it likely encouraged them to be themselves, unapologetically. The original film even seems to embody this philosophy, as nothing about the story nor set direction makes any sense in the first film.

In spite of my harsh criticisms of most movies, I have to admire how unafraid creator Richard O’Brien was of sharing such incredibly unusual ideas with a massive audience. Given the mass walk-outs he witnessed and how he most certainly knew how odd his film would be, it was a courageous feat on his part to not modify his vision to pander to people who would have wanted to see something different - something that made sense.

This is why an “upgraded” version of The Rocky Horror Picture Show will never satisfy fans. Fans appreciate the original film for silently encouraging them to embrace their strangest selves, and for being an insane piece of work they can enjoy and share with others. This is the reason why it continues to be a sensation of midnight screenings and enthusiastic shadow casts. Most producers of entertainment don’t recognize that inserting their ideas of what would make a movie or TV show “better” often ends up disappointing the audiences they are trying to captivate. If the source material was good enough to earn a loyal following, it is likely because they fell in love with what they originally saw.

The producers of The Rocky Horror Picture Show remake, unfortunately, lacked an understanding of these principles. As a result, audiences new and old were left with a superficially polished experience that disregards the most important elements of filmmaking - as well as what made The Rocky Horror Picture Show so special to so many people.

#rocky horror picture show #2016 movies #movie reviews #remake

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pluviophile-bookworm · 5 years ago

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AWAE 1x2 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

It has now been two weeks without new AWAE content, and the fate of the show is still uncertain, no matter what Moira might have said recently. She did say, however, that “you can return to it and it will always be here for you”, so let’s dive right into what I remember to be one of the darkest episodes in the whole series...

I said dark, and it’s dark, alright - even just in terms of lighting. The cold open is almost black and white (with a lot more black than white), and fully deserving of the modifier “cold” (although that is just a technical term and there have been quite a few beautiful cold opens throughout the series). I’m not sure how I’m supposed to make it through this, but well, I made it once before, so why not?

I cannot imagine the intensity of the negative emotions Anne must have been taken over by in order to be rendered completely speechless. Not after she spoke some of her “25-cent words” even when she claimed to be in the depths of despair. Imagine how much worse she must be feeling now. Imagine that if you can, because it is beyond me.

You know, one of the most horrific things about this episode in my memory of it was the man that claims to have been sent “by her family”. I mean, it is horrific to think what would have happened to Anne if she had gone with him, it is utterly horrific that there must be other kids out there who might fall prey to him, but something I hadn’t considered before is how horrific, though lucky at the time, it is that she doesn’t believe him because she has no family at the time. I mean, as much as I am... at odds with my family, to say the least, I couldn’t ever imagine a life without them. It must be so terrible, I don’t even have a word for it in my vocabulary of four languages.

I don’t even want to think about what must be going through poor Matthew’s mind right now. The man has never been a parent in his life, thought he might become one to Anne for a little while, and now he seems to be losing her again. I do not want to watch my favourites suffer so much, and yet I will have to. I sent myself on this journey, and now I’ll have to go through with it.

You know how much worse it feels to return to something bad after you’ve seen better? Anne might have survived the orphanage with at least half her sanity, but not after she’s seen Green Gables. We saw the way she viewed it and every single thing within it. Going back to that nightmarish place again after that...I don’t want to think about it. Gosh, even seeing her go back just to investigate her past in season 3 was so frightful, imagine how she must feel now that she thinks she’ll have to live there indefinitely...

You have no idea how relieved I am to see this horrifying cold open is finally over. I might have to go back and watch the 3x5 cold open with Beekeeper Gilbert to fix me after this. Not that the rest of the episode promises to be much brighter... might as well focus on the intro.

As dark as this episode is, seeing my tiny boy Jerry for a minute brightens it a bit for me. See, this is what rewatching is for. When I was watching the episode for the first time, there was no way for me to know that Jerry would go on to become one of the little bright lights that this series would bring into my life. And now just seeing him in the middle of all the tragedy and drama of it all, just being there, not fazed by the whole situation... his neutral presence is kind of grounding for me.

As Marilla delivers her worried speech, I’m getting flashbacks of 3x9, where she is in a similar situation - except she already saw Anne as her daughter at that point. Here, Anne still hasn’t quite grown on her, and yet she is so worried - but I mean, after all, it was Marilla who sent her away, only to realise her error immediately afterwards. That last one kind of reminds me of Anne in 3x10 ripping up Gilbert’s letter and then running down to put it back together. It’s kind of on a lower scale of importance than what is happening in this episode, but I can’t help seeing it as an Anne/ Marilla parallel. They really have much more in common than it might seem at first.

Sure, Rachel might be there to try and calm Marilla down and give her hope, but... “Boy!” He has a name, you know. Wouldn’t hurt to learn it, even if he’s just the hired boy (of course, he’s not “just” anything, he’s a honorary part of the family - even if he’s in no way there to replace Anne). Rachel has good intentions, but she annoys me most of the time.

That one shot of Anne peeking through the leaves and branches... this episode might be dark, but it still has moments that are 100% my aesthetic.

[Image credit: kissthemgoodbye]

Mr. Avery? Isn’t he the one who unknowingly helped Ka’kwet escape in 3x8? I don’t know much about this man, but what I know is he’s given a ride to both Anne and Ka’kwet, this being one of many similarities between the two. Seriously, I need a season 4 in which Ka’kwet is saved from that school.

Seeing Matthew go through all this when he doesn’t even know for sure if he’ll ever find Anne... heartbreaking. He really does love her already. A true kindred spirit. But seriously, that girl didn’t look like her at all, even from the back. She did remind me of season 3 Anne, though.

Seeing Anne so cheerful and her usual talkative self brightens my day, except I don’t know how long it’s going to last, and at this point I’m completely lost as to what she’s planning to do. But that’s what rewatching is for.

Poor Matthew went through more in a couple of days than he’s been through his whole long life... possibly. I certainly hope so. And Marilla can’t even bring herself to speak (which isn’t as striking as when it was Anne, but still), and she’s going out of her way to take care of Jerry, as if to make up for how she treated Anne. The girl really shook up their lives in just so little time, didn’t she?

I will never forget what I thought when I first watched Anne recite poems at the station. I could never do that, I thought. People frighten me. But there is Anne, who has been hurt, abused, neglected by so many, and yet she keeps that bright big smile on her face and goes on reciting with the truest passion I’ve ever seen. I have no words to describe my admiration for her.

I cannot to this day believe Anne was willing to turn her back on Matthew - all until she heard the word “daughter” - spoken with such sincerity that she must have felt it in the depths of her soul. Poor old Matthew, who went through all this trouble just to find her again... and she was going to turn her back on him because having a family seemed too good to be true. Because she had been hurt one time too many. But this little word changed it all. It warms my heart, you know - seeing Anne find family in the Cuthberts, then in other people around her. I’m not crying, you are.

At several points after Anne came back, I could see Marilla was trying to apologise for accusing her of stealing the brooch - but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Because she’s obviously still overwhelmed with guilt over what happened to Anne after that. And my, you could cut the tension between the two of them with a butter knife. Just resolve this quickly, will you? It’s obviously making Matthew feel very uncomfortable.

Jerry’s attitude to Anne is killing me... in a positive way. As in, it makes me laugh. These two are such typical siblings - they just don’t know it yet. There’s a heartbreaking moment to it, though, and it will always be there: after seeing him so destroyed, so insecure in 3x7, every instance of him just being a shameless little deadpan snarker will be a slap in the face reminding me of the one single time he wasn’t. I’m not even sure if an apology on Diana’s part would fix this completely, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, now would it? #renewannewithane

Speaking of Diana, there she is now. And she’s so openly happy to see Anne back... I say openly because Marilla flat out refuses to show any emotion about it, and Matthew isn’t exactly know for his eloquent expression. And Jerry was all like “leave me alone, I’m trying to sleep here, and I stayed up late because of you”. So yeah, it sure is nice to hear someone openly express joy about seeing her back.

And of course, the Barries just have to ruin it all, don’t they? It’s surprising how open-minded Diana is with parents like these. I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had turned out like Josie. And yet she’s not. How do these things happen?

I see Billy Andrews did not start out much better than he ended up... in contrast to Prissy, who did start out at the very bottom - “Doesn’t she have awful red hair?” Well, to say it in Diana’s tone, she didn’t choose to have red hair, did she? And she’ll try to change it with disastrous results. But there’s time for that. And for Prissy’s great character development.

That scene where Marilla finally apologises to Anne... it was a glimmer of gold in the pitch black atmosphere of this episode. I think Jerry deserves an apology scene at least half as good as this one. And Diana deserves it too, as she didn’t mean to hurt him so bad. The season 3 finale did us dirty in pretending like nothing ever happened between them. But as I said a little while ago, Diana was raised by her parents, so it’s understandable why she acted the way she did. I just think she deserves her character development to be acknowledged by getting a good apology scene with Jerry. We must make that happen. #renewannewithane

Oh, I had forgotten this happened in this episode! But what a beautiful, bright end to a dark and frightful chapter it is... Anne becoming an official Cuthbert. And there are all those little details hinting at the future... the cordial, the pen... my heart is melting.

“Anne Shirley- Cuthbert of Green Gables, nee Halifax” Goodness, Anne, you’re not marrying Green Gables! Speaking of marrying, it’s such a pity we’ll probably never get to see Anne add Blythe to her list of last names. But when that happens, I believe she won’t drop the Shirley- Cuthbert. I mean, it’s so beautifully symbolic. Shirley, her past and origin; Cuthbert, her present and the first real family she’s had (just because her birth parents were robbed of the chance to raise her); and Blythe, her future, her soulmate. Three whole families that she belongs to - the girl who once didn’t have any family but herself. I think that’s beautiful.

To sum up, in this episode we saw: lots of impenetrable darkness, literal and figurative; Matthew nearly getting himself killed while looking for Anne; Marilla nearly falling ill from worrying for both of them; Anne keeping her head up and earning her wages by performing poems and stories at the train station; Matthew calling Anne his daughter for the first time; Jerry’s grounding semi-detached presence amid the drama; Marilla coming to terms with what she did and apologising beautifully; most people of Avonlea not being quite convinced about Anne yet; Anne becoming an official Cuthbert.

#anne with an e #anne with an e season 1 #anne with an e s1 #awae #awae season 1 #awae s1 #renew anne with an e #renew awae #anne shirley cuthbert #matthew cuthbert #marilla cuthbert #jerry baynard #diana barry #jnk watches awae

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stillthewordgirl · 5 years ago

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CaptainCanary fic: With Eyes Wide Open (ch. 1 of ?)

In a world where Rip Hunter never formed the Legends, Leonard Snart is trying to mend his ways and work with Team Flash, though sometimes it's easier than others. Meanwhile, Sara Lance is gradually dealing with the blood lust left behind by the Pit and trying to get used to being a hero again herself. When they encounter each other one day in Central City, it seems like a match that just might be meant to be.

But nothing with these two is ever easy.

This is going to be an accidental pregnancy fic, one in which both contributors to said pregnancy decide to continue their relationship and do their best with it. If you don't like such things, be warned.

I don't usually write this trope, but an idea grabbed me. Hope you enjoy. And happy birthday to Tavyn and crazygirlne! (And many thanks to Pir8grl!)

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

Leonard Snart doesn’t really want to be here.

Sure, he’d been kinda working with the Flash and the other heroes for a few years now. He’d done that of his own free will, even, driven by the need for something new, for a challenge, for yet another way to prove that he wasn’t (and would never be) his father. And while the CCPD (and some of the more general populace) still weren’t sure what to make of the change in Captain Cold, he was generally accepted as being more or less on the side of the angels these days.

(Of course, he kept his hand in. Wouldn’t do to let the old skills slide. But as long as Team Flash and the CCPD don't know, no harm done. Right?)

Still, even though he’d been one of those who’d helped quash this newest threat to the city—a tech-talented meta who’d gone the giant-robots-for-world-domination route—this celebration at STAR Labs is a little...squeaky clean for him. Boring, even. Heroes from a couple of different cities earnestly rehashing the fight, comparing notes and costumes and tech, exclaiming as they run across old friends. (They all seem to know each other. It’s a little creepy.)

Someone had acquired beer and pizza—they’d probably even paid for it, given this lot—and Ramon’s put on some music. Nothing to Len’s taste, of course, just modern crap with an awful lot of bass and no intelligible words. It’s become a real party, with a few people dancing (if you can call it that) and a great deal of laughter.

Ugh.

Leonard himself is slouching in a chair off to the side of the cortex, watching them all from hooded eyes, abandoned beer at his side. He kind of wishes that Mick was here, just to have someone to help him mock the whole thing—but he and Mick are on the outs again, over the fact that Leonard’s still hanging on to this “weird hero gig” (in Mick’s words) and hasn’t given up and gone back to a life of crime.

It’s not going to happen—at least, Leonard’s pretty sure it’s not. But Mick won’t accept that. (It’d hurt, if Leonard allowed himself to actually think about it. He doesn’t. Much.)

He’s not sure why he hasn’t left this stupid party. Maybe because Lisa’s still here, teasing Ramon out on the “dance floor,” and he wants to keep an eye on that. Maybe because it’s entertaining, at least, to be the one to puncture Allen’s high spirits over a fight that’d gone so well.

Maybe because he’s a little bored lately, looking for a new challenge and occupation, and at least this keeps him from backsliding. Maybe he’s...actually a little lonely.

Maybe it’s partly her.

He’s never seen her here before, the blonde in white who seems as alone as he is, just on the other side of the room. She’s just a little on the short side, lean muscle and long, golden hair and fierce blue eyes, and she’s fought like he’d never seen before. No powers short of being an utter badass, as far as he can tell, but that just makes her more interesting.

She’d been assigned with both him and that Atom nitwit to the city’s South Side, and he hadn’t caught her name. Some sort of a bird-themed hero moniker? He doesn’t recall, mostly because the incredible shrinking schmuck hadn’t shut up enough to let either of them get a word in edgewise. But once they’d been on site and the fighting started, she hadn’t needed words.

Her actions did plenty of talking.

Leonard gives his head a shake, chasing away the recollection of poetry and mayhem in motion, and stood, stretching and glancing across the room again. She also looks like she’d almost rather be anywhere else, and he’s not too sure why she hasn’t left yet.

Maybe the same reason he hasn’t.

Which is to say, maybe neither of them is really sure.

He should probably leave. Insult Allen one last time, scare Ramon, say goodbye to Lisa, and get outta Dodge.

But he doesn’t. In fact…

“I don’t recommend that stuff. Don’t know who bought it, but I’d suggest waterboarding them with the crap.”

The blonde looks up from her perusal of the beer as Leonard strolls toward her. She lifts an eyebrow, but he also sees her lips twitch just a little, and she puts the unopened bottle back down in its nest of ice.

“Suspected as much,” she says smoothly, folding her arms and considering him. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Least I could do.” Leonard parks his hip against the desk beside her, pauses, then inclines his head. “Didn’t catch your name earlier. Our ‘teammate’ was talking too much.”

“He’s prone to that.” Her lips twitch again, but she nods, considering him. “Sara Lance. White Canary.” She glances away, across the room, toward said “teammate.” “From Star City, like Ray. When Barry called for help, there was a lot going on. I...my sister asked me to come.”

Sister...he’s heard of Laurel Lance, even met her once. He hadn’t realized there was another Canary. “And was it all you’d dreamed?”

That gets a low laugh, one that sounds sincere. (He feels vaguely victorious.) Sara glances around, then shrugs, looking back at him. “Well, it was nice to get to hit things for a while. I’m not really sure I fit in with this gang though. They’re just so...so...”

“Shiny? Annoying? Heroic?”

“Hmmm. All of the above?” Sara studies him. “I know you’re Captain Cold,” she admits finally, “but I didn’t catch your name either.”

Leonard bites back a surge of dismay that she hasn’t heard of him. He’d thought his heel-face turn had made enough news, both publicly and in the circles these people moved in, that he was quite recognizable, in more ways than one. Still…

“Leonard. Leonard Snart,” he says smoothly. “Nice to meet you, Sara.”

That gets an actual smile. “I have heard of you,” she admits, “but I wanted to be sure.” A pause. “I’ve been…out of town, out of touch, a lot, of the past few years.”

It’s mentioned in a way that’s curiously both apologetic and oddly confrontational, and Leonard cocks his head at her, wondering. “OK,” he drawls. “Well. I’m me.” He holds his hands out to either side and smirks at her. “Central City’s most wanted.”

Sara gives him a wry look at the innuendo in his tone. “I thought you reformed.”

Her tone is teasing. Leonard lets his smile grow. “Well,” he returns, folding his arms. “I did. Sort of.” He pauses. “As far as any of the heroes know, anyway.”

“Well, you’re telling me.” Her tone is dry.

“Are you a hero? You said you didn’t think you quite fit in this lot.”

He regrets the flippant words nearly immediately, though, because a shadow crosses Sara’s face—although she seems to try to force it away nearly immediately. She shrugs, glancing away and toward the others, then back at him.

“Maybe not,” she says quietly. “But I’m trying.”

Sympathy is unexpected. But there it is, and Leonard finds that he doesn’t want to fight it.

“Yeah,” he admits, even more quietly. “Me too.”

And then, after another moment of quiet in which the two of them regard each other, he abruptly, uncharacteristically, takes a chance. “Wanna get out of here?”

Sara lifts her eyebrows at him. “And…what?”

It’d been so much a whim that he’s not sure, but he’ll be damned if he lets on. “Some decent bars around here. Bars that aren’t so…stuffy. Cheap beer that’s better than this shit. High chance of punching.”

He’s right. Her eyes brighten. “Yes. Please.”

Sara lurks in the corners, watching as this Leonard Snart bids a laughing young woman…well, a woman about her own age…farewell, glaring at Cisco Ramon in the process, then fades away into the crowd. She shakes her head, amused, then heads for one of the exits herself.

She can’t help smiling about it, though. This Snart—god, that name—has managed to intrigue her more than she’d ever expected. He’s hot, that helps…those eyes, that lean, muscular build--but Sara hasn’t really thought much about that sort of thing since the Pit. It’s a surprise that the knowledge keeps nagging at her, stirring her awareness and attention.

And to be honest, the sheer degree of understanding in his expression was even more of a draw. He just seemed to get how she was feeling, an assassin—former assassin--there in the midst of all those heroes. Given his own origins, Sara can understand that, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate the understanding all the more.

Briefly, she wonders if Snart knows who she is, beyond her name and maybe her connection to Laurel. Likely not. Since she’d arrived in Central City, it’s become apparent that although Barry and co. know the basics of what had happened to her with the Pit, the Laurel and the others in Star City had stayed quite close-mouthed about any details.

And Snart, while seemingly accepted and welcomed into the group here, seems to linger on the outside enough that he probably doesn’t know even that.

Sara pauses outside the building, listening carefully, then turns at the faintest of sounds, watching as Leonard strolls out of the twilight toward her. He moves quietly—though more, she thinks, by habit than any desire to surprise her—and she sees the appreciation in his eyes as he realizes just how quickly she’d marked him.

By all her instincts, it’s mingled with other appreciation too—she hadn’t missed him watching her across the room earlier or the smooth and thorough once-over as he’d introduced himself. But her instincts are telling her something else, too, and given how long it’s been since she’s felt this growing ripple of attraction for someone, it’s something she wants to be clear on.

“So,” she asks him innocently as Leonard starts sauntering away from the building and she falls into step besides him. “How’s the gay scene in Central? I haven’t been out here much.”

Those blue eyes flicker her way, and Sara sees a smile touch his mouth. But he doesn’t stop, and he doesn’t seem surprised.

“Not bad. I’m told,” he says in that sexy drawl. “It’s not really my style. I tend to keep to myself.” He pauses. “Excellent gaydar, though. I’m pan, if you’re looking for a label.”

Ah ha. Sara nods, accepting both the tacit confirmation that he could very well be attracted to her and the suggestion that he’s not usually one to just...hook up randomly. She finds she’s rather pleased at both.

“And you?” The tone is curious and cordial. They’re both testing the waters here.

“Ah.” She glances his way. “Bi.”

That doesn’t make his gaze so much as flicker. Instead, he just nods, and they walk on.

Was that question the gentle bit of fishing for information that he thinks it was, instead of an actual query about the scene? He’s pretty sure it was.

Or was she just suggesting she’d rather go somewhere like that, the queer bars down on Morse Street? But then why would she just drop it instead of asking? Although he had said it wasn’t really his style...

There are reasons he doesn’t really do the dating thing, Leonard thinks grumpily. He’s not used to second-guessing himself like this. He’s not used to caring enough to second-guess himself.

Why does he?

But Sara’s speaking again, as they walk, and he listens.

“So,” she says, "I get the impression you wanted out of there as much as I did. Why’d you even hang around? After the fighting was over, of course. You live in Central; presumably you have a place to go.”

“Mmmm.” He turns left at an intersection, crosses the street with Sara pacing him, still considering his words. “Good question. My sister was there...”

“Golden Glider.”

“Mmhmm. And that meant I was...obliged...to put the fear of me into Ramon.” He smirks at her as she rolls her eyes. “What?”

“The ‘protect the baby sister’ act? Really?” She flashes a grin at him. “Would you do it if it was a girl she was flirting with?”

“Would. And have.” He points at her. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Sara chuckles. Leonard finds he really likes the sound. Enough that he wants to get her to do it again.

What the hell is happening to him?

But there’s no more time for confessions at the moment, though, because they’ve arrived at the very dive bar he’d had in mind. It’s not Saints & Sinners—people know him there, and he finds he doesn’t really want to be known right now—and frankly he’s not even sure it has a formal name. But there’s neon in the dark windows, a whiff of cigarette smoke about the place although Central has banned smoking in restaurants for years, and a scarred, heavy door with a handle polished smooth by years of hands. So many of the harbingers of a “good” local dive.

Sara hums in appreciation, looking at it. She reaches out and pulls open that heavy door, and they move inside.

The bar looks, Leonard thinks, rather like a throwback to the ‘70s. There’s a jukebox in the corner, faded posters on the walls, and more of the scarred, heavy wood like that of the door…the tables, the bar, the support beams. There’s even a disco ball hanging from the ceiling. And, of course, there are the incurious eyes of a dozen or more biker-ish types, all denim and bandanas for the men and short-shorts and crop tops for the women.

And here’s Sara in her white leather and him in his black, sauntering in like ying and yang, and oh hell, this is going to be trouble.

He finds he welcomes it.

Beers are acquired—not so much better than that crap at STAR Labs, but that doesn’t seem to matter anymore—and Sara takes a sip of hers, giving Leonard a thorough once-over of her own as someone messes with the jukebox behind them, starting up a song that seems vaguely familiar.

“You want to dance, Leonard?” she asks then, gaze challenging.

Don’t mess around…

“You go right ahead,” he tells her. “I’ll watch.”

There’s a gleam in her eyes, and she hands him her beer. “Suit yourself.”

And she walks out, into an empty space that could barely be called a dance floor, and starts to move.

Hell.

Ain’t gonna set you free now…

Leonard keeps the smirk on his lips and his eyes on her steadily, doing his best not to let on to the intensity of his reaction. It’s inexplicable, really. He barely knows her, and he tends to need to know someone before being truly attracted.

But both body and mind and…he won’t admit to heart being a part of this…are. They’re attracted. Very much so.

Then the inevitable happens. The burly man who accosts Sara clearly isn’t politely offering a drink—and her response, glancing toward the dark-haired woman he’d left at the bar, is just as clear. And—just as inevitably—he grabs her.

Crack.

The man yells. Several of his buddies converge on them. And Sara glances over her shoulder at Leonard.

“I got this,” she assures him.

Of course she does.

When those girls start hanging around

Talking me down…

Watching her fight is even better than watching her dance. Leonard tries not to be obvious about swallowing, working some moisture into his dry throat.

He almost glances over his shoulder involuntarily, to give Mick that “are you seeing this?” look. But Mick isn’t there; Mick doesn’t understand why he’s doing what he’s doing these days, doesn’t want to understand why Leonard wants to change, and that hurts—it always hurts—but maybe it hurts a tiny bit less, because—he suddenly thinks, with the shock of realization--Sara does.

She gets it.

Hear with your heart and you won't hear a sound…

She’s amazing, but either the first idiot had a lot of friends or there are simply a lot of people up for a barfight tonight. No sooner has Sara swept the floors with the first lot than more are converging.

She glances at Leonard again. “Now I could stand for a little help.”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice.

'Cause I really love you

Stop, I'll be thinking of you

Look in my heart and let

Love keep us together…

“Dad?”

Joe West looks around as he shrugs his coat on, smiling at his daughter. However, that smile quickly runs away as he digests the concern on Iris’ face. “What’s wrong?” “Oh....” Iris shrugs, but the concern is still there. “Nothing, probably. Have you seen Sara?”

“Sara Lance?” Joe glances around involuntarily, but the blond woman, of course, isn’t in sight. The celebration has started breaking up a little, but most of the assorted hero types in Central City to help Team Flash with…what had Cisco named that guy? He forgets…are still there.

“Not in a while.” He studies her. “You worried about something?”

“She was really quiet. And you know, she’d been gone for so long…” Iris bites her lip, then shakes her head. “I’m sure it’s fine. She probably just went for a walk.”

“Who’s she staying with?” One of the drawbacks to getting so much help was then trying to find couches for everyone to crash on.

“Caitlin. Who also hasn’t seen her in a while. And Sara doesn’t have a key to her place.”

“Hmm.” Joe sighs. “I’ll keep an eye out. But she probably just needed some air…or decided she wanted to go get some rest.” He winks at his daughter. “I don’t think the lack of a key would stop Sara.”

Iris smiles reluctantly. “True.” She hugs him. “ ’Night, Dad. Say hi to Cecile.”

“Of course I will.”

His daughter turns away, moving back to where Barry, Ray Palmer, Professor Stein and Jax are good-naturedly debating something, and Joe sighs, giving the rest of the room one last scan. And then another, because his mention of breaking-and-entering has called another “hero” to mind.

He’s still not completely convinced that Leonard Snart has changed his spots, though the man was certainly helpful enough today—and has been for a while now, honestly. Barry’s tendency to see the best in everyone is source both of amusement and occasional consternation, but maybe (Joe admits) he had it right this time.

Maybe.

The former criminal had probably ghosted out the door earlier with some of the better booze Joe knows perfectly well that Wells has tucked away. That’s not Joe’s hill to die on.

He’s no sooner out of the door from STAR Labs, though, when his phone—his work phone—rings. With a sign, he answers, getting into his car and leaning back against the seat.

“What now,” he says, closing his eyes. “After everything…”

Then he listens.

“Yeah, I’m near there. I’ll stop. But…OK, OK. Just a few minutes.”

It’s a dive bar not so far from STAR Labs, really. Joe’s not sure it even has a name that hasn’t been lost to time. He sees the flashing lights—a few patrol cars, an ambulance—and finds a parking spot, then leaves his car and walks toward the scene, wondering again why the lieutenant had called him.

He finds out soon enough.

“Hi, Joe!” Sara Lance says, sounding much too chipper, a smile on her face as she leans against the brick wall of the abandoned house next to the bar. She’s still in her White Canary outfit, which is presumably how the lieutenant had identified her. Joe stops in his tracks and stares at her, then allows his gaze to drift slowly sideways to the smirking visage of Leonard Snart, who inclines his head slowly toward the detective.

Joe takes a deep breath. Thanks his lucky stars that at least the lieutenant had called him rather than simply arresting two people hailed as heroes earlier in the day in the city. And then fixes his gaze on Sara and decides to ignore Snart for the time being.

“What,” he says carefully, “did you do?”

Sara’s chin goes up. “Just wanted a drink. And someone wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Joe takes his hat off and runs a hand over his face. “You sent…eight? Nine?...people to the hospital with mild to moderate injuries. And there are more who wouldn’t go.”

“Yes?” Sara’s tone is a mix of obdurate and innocent and oddly pleased with herself. It’s a strange combo. “It was all self-defense.”

“Of course it was.” Joe shakes his head, then looks at Snart. “And you,” he says with a sigh. “You get your record clean and this is what you do with it?

Snart’s smirk grows. “Didn’t do anything,” he drawls. “Just helped the lady here take out some trash.”

There’s an interesting note in his voice. Is he...

Joe glances back and forth between the two briefly. Oh, hell. If this isn’t trouble in the making, he’s not sure what is.

But he��ll be damned if he’s going to give Leonard-friggin-Snart a lecture on hooking up with a cop’s daughter—or Sara Lance a lecture about doing the same with a “reformed” crook.

Joe draws in a long breath again, then lets it out and jerks his thumb away from the scene. “Get outta here.”

The pair look at each other, then back at him, faces unreadable.

“Seriously. I’m not explaining this to your father,” he says to Sara. “And I’m not explaining to the press why you got locked up for…self-defense…just hours after helping save the city.” He glances at Snart. “And, oddly enough, the bar owner doesn’t want to press any charges.”

“Imagine that,” Snart drawls, inspecting his nails.

“Right. Imagine. Now, get outta here. And Sara, text Iris. She’s worried about you.”

Sara: Hi. Im fine! Don’t worry.

Sara: Joe told me to tell u.

Iris: OMG you just vanished! Where RU?

Sara: Out. Having fun. Don’t wait up

Iris: Alone?

Sara: Nope. 😊

Iris: Sara Lance…

Iris: Did U hook up????

Iris: With someone from here????

Sara turns the sound off on her phone and tucks it away again, grinning to herself. She turns to Leonard, who’s been watching her without comment, and lifts an inquiring eyebrow, a clear “What’s next?”

His lips twitch. They’d moved off into the shadows after Joe had turned away, but neither of them had, quite clearly, wanted to go back to STAR Labs. Sara had obliged the detective’s request, but now she’s watching Leonard with another gleam in her eye and a challenge in her expression.

Leonard doesn’t, quite frankly, want another bar brawl, no matter how much fun it would be. (He’d slipped the bar owner enough cash to keep his mouth shut, but he doesn’t particularly want to do that again either.)

But there’s something both a little wild and a little longing about the woman with him; Leonard doesn’t know quite what it is, but he’s not going to let her down now. So he leans a little closer and says, “Wanna see the Central City Museum?”

It’s not what Sara expects. She considers him momentarily until a smile suddenly lights up her face, the gleam in her eyes brightening. “After hours, I take it?”

“In a…manner of speaking.”

“Isn’t that across the city?”

She’s right. It’d be quite a hike, and Leonard had left his motorcycle back at STAR Labs. Still, he smirks at her. “Wasn’t that guy whose nose you broke wearing a Nickel City Swords hat? The one who went to the hospital to get a possible concussion checked out?” That hadn’t, as a matter of fact, been his or Sara’s fault. The guy’s buddy had intended to break a chair over Leonard’s head and…missed.

“Yeeesss?”

He takes a step toward the street. “What would the odds be?”

Sara looks…and grins at the sight of a Nickel City Swords bumper sticker on the small red car there. “And he’s not going to be looking for it right away, if I know the emergency rooms this time of night.”

“Indeed.” Leonard stretches his fingers. “I can…”

“No need.” Sara’s already moving toward the car. “I got this, too.”

Leonard’s impressed. Obviously impressed, although he doesn’t say a word and lets Sara go to work on the car without more than a raised eyebrow and look of appreciation. And she likes that, she finds, likes his assumption of competence without even question. Instead, he stands guard, watching her back, and only takes the driver’s seat when she asks him to, after the engine roars (well, sputters) to life a few minutes later.

It’s…alluring.

She’d had no more than a sip of weak beer, Sara thinks, looking out the window of the “borrowed” car as the city slips back around them, but she feels a bit drunk. Giddy. Part of it’s because the bloodlust hadn’t taken over in the barfight, and she thoroughly pleased and relieved by this. Part of that is because she’s with a handsome man who seems quite impressed by her skill set and doesn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about her past.

Of course…he doesn’t really know about all of it.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Lovely timing. Sara turns her head at Leonard’s low murmur, studying his profile. And then she takes a leap.

“League of Assassins,” she tells him baldly, counting on the likelihood that a former career criminal will know of what she speaks. “Kind of a long story how I got there, but I was with them for years. Not anymore, though.”

The league doesn’t—generally—let its people go, and he’s likely to know that, too.

There’s a moment of considering silence. Sara, watching, sees Leonard lift his eyebrows. He doesn’t seem concerned, though, and there’s no moment of disbelief or revulsion—both of which she’s seen far too often in people who are supposed to be on her side.

A drawled “impressive” is the only comment.

Sara smiles.

Oh, Leonard’s impressed all right. Impressed, and curious, and more than a little turned on.

OK, well, he’d been that already, but he’s always found competence sexy, and danger nearly as much. Sara is very distinctly both competent and dangerous, and combined with her obvious intelligence and other attributes, it’s all one very gorgeous package.

Down, boy.

No wonder she seems to get him, the crook who’s trying to find his place amidst heroes, if she’s an assassin who’s trying to do that same. And he hadn’t missed the look on her face when he had simply accepted her words without judgment or distaste.

He gets it.

He parks about a block away, and they leave the car, Leonard leading the way toward the museum—not the front entrance, of course, but one of the little-used side entrances for employees. He hadn’t really been prepared to do a little breaking-and-entering tonight, but…

Oh, who is he kidding? He’s always prepared.

They find a place nearby to watch unseen, and Leonard waits until he sees a security guard appear in the small pool of light by the door. The woman pauses, glancing around, then radios in to report the all-clear to the main security office. Leonard knows how it works. He makes…made it his business to know how it all works.

Then she continues on her route, going around the corner, and Leonard moves, Sara right on his heels. He pauses behind a pillar as the overhead camera sweeps by, then moves again as it turns slowly in the other direction, pulling out his lockpicks.

He has a minute. He only needs…let’s see, 42 seconds. And then they’re in, the door closed securely behind them.

Sara lets out a breathless, near-silent laugh—but she gives him an inquiring look before saying anything. Leonard nods, and she laughs a little louder, shaking her head.

“That was amazing,” she tells him, glee in her voice. “We’re OK in here?”

“Yep. They don’t have cameras on most of the areas inside. And indoor security guards only during the day. Gotta love budget cuts.” He glances at her, then decides it doesn’t make sense to ignore what she’d told him not long ago. “Picking the lock, you mean? I’d think maybe that’d have been something you learned in your…previous line of work.”

Sara’s lips curve in an expression that’s not quite a smile.

“Not really,” she demurs, looking around the entryway. “We generally went…other routes.” Her eyes are serious again as she looks at him. “I like your way better.”

Ah. But Leonard leaves the implication alone. Instead, he just holds an arm out with a slight flourish, inviting her into the museum at large. “Now. What would you like to see?”

Iris is studying her phone as she walks down the corridor in STAR Labs. She really would have rather been home by now—it’s been a long day—but the puzzle of Sara’s whereabouts is still nagging at her, especially since she thinks she has all those who’d been at the lab earlier accounted for. She glances up briefly as she emerges into the Cortex, registering that Barry is standing there waiting for her, but glances back down nearly immediately, sending one more annoyed text before putting the device away.

“I don’t get it,” she sighs, looking up at her husband. “She’s still ignor…”

The look on Barry’s face makes her stop. “What? Is everything OK? Barry…”

He holds out a hand hastily, though, reassuring her although that dubious expression is still there. “It’s OK. I think. Just…” Barry lets out a long breath. “Um. Well. Snart’s motorcycle is still parked outside. And no one’s seem him in hours. He was here, with everyone else. And then…he wasn’t.”

Iris stares at him, absorbing that. “You think that…”

“Erm.” He shrugs, giving her that kind of sheepish grin she usually likes so much. “Well…I suppose if you think about it…I could see them hitting it off…”

Iris frowns at him, just digesting this. “I always…I guess I thought Snart, well, liked guys.”

Barry blinks at her. “No? I…why would you think that?”

His voice is honestly perplexed. Iris stares at him a moment longer, then closes her eyes. After a long minute, she opens them again. Her beloved, sweet, clueless husband—whom Snart flirts with madly whenever possible—is still looking baffled.

“Never mind,” she sighs. “Well…I guess Sara didn’t say she was hooking up. I just got that impression.” She thinks a moment. “Although, Sara likes girls too, so maybe he’s similar. Makes sense.” A reluctant smile crosses her face. “He’s pretty flirty with almost everyone, actually. And he is kinda hot.”

Now Barry looks vaguely appalled. “Snart? Really?”

Dear, sweet baby. “Really.” Iris pauses. “You text him. Ask if Sara’s with him. I just want to be sure she’s OK.”

Barry shakes his head again, but he pulls out his phone.

Barry: Is Sara w/U???????

Barry: C’mon, Iris is worried

Barry: Snart…

Leonard: Yes.

Barry: good

Barry: U guys ok?

Barry: Snart?

Leonard: Fine.

Barry: good

Barry: what u doing?

Barry: If u don’t mind saying.

Barry: Iris thinks your hooking up. hahaha

Barry: Snart?

Leonard shakes his head, turning his phone off entirely and putting it back in his pocket before glancing at Sara.

The blond woman is standing just a few feet away, studying a painting intently. Leonard’s no kind of fan of modern art, but the colors of this piece are appealing, and Sara certainly seems to be intrigued. After just a minute, though, she turns, grinning at him, and he smiles back.

“I think we’ve seen most of the largest exhibits now,” Leonard says quietly. “Except for the jewelry exhibit.” His smile grows a little. “They did put a camera in there.”

“And why do I think you had something to do with that?”

“No idea.”

Sara laughs at the innocence in his tone. “Yeah? Like sparkly things, do you?”

“I like beautiful things.”

They hold glances for long enough that it feels distinctly warm when they both look away. Leonard clears his throat. “Is there anything else you’d like to see?”

Sara’s lips twitch, but she doesn’t take the (mostly unintended) bait. “We can head out.”

Getting out of the museum is much like getting in, except that no lock-picking is necessary. The two stroll away as if they’ve never thought of such a thing, and Sara keeps a straight face until a block away, when she busts out in giggles.

“Ahhh,” she says, spinning in place. “That was fun. Thank you.”

“Always nice to show off the skills,” Leonard acknowledges. He glances around. “Hm. Want to get a drink now? Without a barfight.”

Sara nods, but gives him a curious look. “Where? I’m presuming we’re leaving the car where it is.”

“I know a place nearby.” It’s on the way back to his apartment, too, but he’s not going to presume.

“Lead on.”

It’s late enough that Saints & Sinners isn’t full, but there are people there. Still, Leonard—despite his…newer occupation—is known, and people don’t fuck with him. Especially since his times on the hero gig tend to be helping the Flash and co. in dealing with metas and bigger problems, not the smaller-time crooks that often congregate here.

They find a booth, and Leonard, after a quiet query, makes his way to the bar, returning with two glasses of a rather nice scotch, if he does say so himself. He pushes one over to Sara without comment, smiling a little as she takes a sip and hums in pleasure, looking back at him.

“Thanks,” she says, then takes another sip, glancing around. “Saints & Sinners, eh?”

“Truth in advertising.” Leonard takes his own drink. He honestly doesn’t drink much, but when he does, it’s the good stuff. (The scent of stale beer, the funk of cheap liquor…these still scream “Lewis” at him, make him want to vomit.) “You good?”

“I am.” Sara studies him, taking another sip. “Tell me. What led you to…to ask me if I wanted to get out of there before? STAR Labs, I mean. Just then.”

Ah. Leonard inspects the amber liquid in his glass, takes another drink. “I was curious,” he admits. “I’d enjoyed watching you fight. And you didn’t look…completely comfortable there.” He pauses. “Rather like me, I guess.”

It strikes a chord; he can tell it does. Sara very nearly takes a gulp of her scotch, coughs, then regards him.

“Thank you,” she says again after a moment.

“You’re welcome.”

The scotch is very good.

Sara gets them both a refill after a bit, raising her eyebrows at the cost but paying without a qualm. She takes the glasses back to the table, and they continue talking.

She learns that his sister, Lisa (vaguely to Leonard’s horror) is just about Sara’s age. She learns that the last mark on Leonard’s record before it’d been expunged was the killing of his own father—and why, a tale he tells without a flinch, watching her with calm eyes that nonetheless seem to be watching for any sort of revulsion.

Revulsion Sara doesn’t show. Because she gets it. In fact, she thinks, watching Leonard’s still face, if Lewis Snart was still alive, she very well might go looking for him herself.

To get that look off his face—how has that face become so important to her, in such a short period of time?—she speaks up herself. She tells him more about the League. And then, almost to her surprise, the Amazo. Lian Yu.

At some point, Leonard gets them another drink. Then Sara—a little buzzed and more than a little reckless--gets them another.

Someone follows her back to the table.

Leonard stands as the other man—a weaselly sort wholly unlike the brawny thug back at the other bar—grabs her arm as she goes to sit down. But he doesn’t butt in, waiting to see what happens.

“You don’t wanna stay with this guy,” the newcomer says, not even looking at Leonard. “He’s a cop squealer, now. If you’re one of us, babe, you’ll want to come with me.”

The look on Sara’s face is incredible.

Leonard isn’t sure whether to smirk or sigh as she darts that “are you fucking kidding me?” gaze at him. He keeps his expression mildly interested as he glances at the nitwit holding her, one Ethan Kozarovich, a not-so-bright and relatively small-time thug who’s always thought he was far more than he actually was.

The question in that gaze is unmistakable. And Leonard can’t deny Sara the chance to fulfill it.

“Got your back. But take it outside,” he says quietly, before downing the drink she’d brought him. “Got an agreement here.”

Sara nods. Then she turns that look on Kozarovich—who seems like he’s suddenly, vehemently regretting his life choices—and snaps, “Outside.” Then she downs her own drink, slamming the empty glass down on the table.

“Here is…”

“Outside.”

Kozarovich looks like he wants, quite suddenly, to wet himself.

Not so long later, Sara and Leonard are strolling away from Saints & Sinners, both trying (and somewhat failing) to keep from outright laughter.

It shouldn’t feel so good to knock down a minor-league jerk-ass like the Kovarovich, Sara thinks. But it does.

It does because the bloodlust hadn’t taken over. It does because the asshat who’d dared to grab her is still alive, just slightly damaged. It does because Leonard is looking at her with a gleam in his eyes that says just how very impressed he is, and that gleam is doing things to her, things she knows, knows she wants to explore.

It’s been a very, very long time since she’d truly wanted anything like that.

They’re cutting through a park, and Sara spins around in the night air, taking a deep breath and letting it out, then turning to Leonard, who’s watching her intently, pausing in his own stroll.

“I feel alive,” she sighs with a deep, completely pleased sigh, then continuing immediately, recklessly as he watches her. “No, you don’t understand. Leonard…I was dead for a year.”

His steps slow. “Pardon?”

“Dead,” Sara tells him recklessly, looking up at the stars to avoid seeing his face. “Cold and dead. Three arrows to the chest and abdomen. Dead before I hit the ground. I was mourned, I was buried. I…well, presumably I did what dead things do.”

She looks at him, then. “My sister...well, she found a way to bring me back. About two years ago. But I wasn’t...I wasn’t myself for a long time afterward. I’m only starting to feel that way again. But I felt more alive tonight than I have in a very long time.”

If he shows any disbelief…any sort of revulsion…

He doesn’t. He blinks, slowly, and considers her, but years of familiarity with the oddities of Central City—and maybe his own instincts--seem to lead him to believe her.

“That’s amazing,” he says after a moment, as Sara watches him. “But…you’re OK? Now?”

Concern wasn’t what Sara had expected. Of all the possible reactions to this story, she finds she likes that one best.

“I’m OK,” she agrees, then impulsively reaches out and takes his hand, pulling him toward her a little, putting it over her heart, which is beating strongly. Leonard studies her as she looks up into his face, smiling a little, her hand over his own. His own face is very serious, but not in a way that seems problematic.

“Alive,” she repeats. “And happy. And not at all cold.”

After another moment, Leonard cracks a smile.

“No, you don’t feel cold to me,” he says quietly, moving even closer. “And I know cold.”

Sara snickers. “Now, that’s a line.” She pauses, studying serious blue eyes. “You don’t feel cold to me, either.”

“Good.”

And he kisses her.

That first kiss is, perhaps, just a little tentative. Exploratory. Both of them seeing if the spark they’ve been feeling is really there.

It is.

The second kiss, after a brief pause for air, is a good deal less tentative. In fact, Leonard, much later, finds bark from the tree he’d been up against pressed into the soft, broken-in leather of his jacket. (It falls to the floor as he shakes the jacket out. In a rare display of sentimentality, he saves a few pieces. Later, they sit in a small bowl on his dresser, with the gold locket Lisa had worn as a kid, his grandfather’s lucky silver dollar, a pack of matches filched from Mick’s coat, and a few other things.)

By mutual agreement, they head for his apartment, the one in city center, acquired by a much-younger Leonard Snart before the area started toward gentrification and still owned today under an assumed name. It’s after midnight, now, and the building is mostly quiet; they don’t see anyone in the hallways or the elevator.

Which is good, because he decides it’s his turn to take the lead, boosting Sara up against the mirrored wall and continuing the kissing.

When the elevator door opens, neither of them is inclined to separate, so Leonard simply carries her down the hallway toward the door, as Sara wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders and keeps kissing his neck, his jaw, his mouth, caresses passionate and just a little bit rough in a good way. Somehow, he managed to her his keys out and into the lock, then maneuvers them both into the apartment.

If not quite all the way to the bed.

Iris: Sara? Ray’s here. Says u were gonna ride back to Star w/him

Iris: Should he wait?

Iris: Sara, pls let me know your OK.

Sara: I’m good! 😊

Sara: tell him thanks, but I’m staying around here a few days

Iris: OK

Iris: Do I wanna know where?

Sara, having fished her phone from the tangle of clothing strewn across the floor, bites back a laugh at the suggested irritation in Iris’ words. She chooses not to respond, putting the phone safely on Leonard’s dresser before turning back to the bed (where they had, ultimately, wound up).

The man in question is sprawled across the surface, nothing more than a sheet tugged over his hips, watching her from hooded eyes, a smile/smirk on his face. They hadn’t fallen asleep until early morning, and although it’s now after noon, he doesn’t look at all inclined to go anywhere. Sara runs her eyes over him, smiling herself, content and relaxed in a way she hasn’t been in a very long time.

They had been very well suited.

“Everything all right?” he drawls.

“Mmhmm. My ride is planning to head back to Star City soon.”

Leonard’s face shows a flicker of…something…but he quickly conceals it. “Ah,” he says quietly. Sara, watching, sees his shoulders tense before he sits up smoothly. “You have to go?”

There’s very definitely disappointment in the words. Which makes it easier and somewhat less awkward to stroll back toward him, smiling, and admit, “No. I said I wanted to stay around here a few days.” She pauses, suddenly feeling awkward anyway. “I mean, I can stay with Caitlin, help Team Flash clean up…”

But there’s a smile in Leonard’s eyes too, and he lowers his lashes again, watching her.

“Or,” he says smoothly, reaching out, catching her wrist gently, pulling her toward him, “you could stay here.”

Sara laughs, relief coursing through her. “But whatever would we do with our time?”

“I’m sure we could think of something.”

#with eyes wide open #captain canary #sara x leonard #the flash

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years ago

Text

I Like Him

They might have gotten off to a rocky start, but near the end of 'Flashpoint' Thomas Wayne comes to think highly of Barry Allen. Enough so that he comes around to the idea that the speedster is in love with his son. He never so much as said it, but it was obvious to someone like him - the best detective in his reality.

So when somehow he comes back - with his son in tow - Thomas needs to let Bruce know how much he approves of their relationship.

Only Bruce doesn't have feelings for Barry Allen... right?

(ao3 link)

Bruce knows he should say something, his stare unnerving in most circumstances, but any attempt stalls in his throat as if stopped by some immovable barrier. Still, Thomas doesn’t say anything to turn him away. In fact he seems calm, like they weren’t standing guard at the lip of the Cave’s entrance waiting for their coming attackers.

“You know,” Thomas starts, “When Barry told me about you… about who you were and what should have been… I thought he was crazy. During the entire time we worked together every rational part of me screamed that it wasn’t going to work. That we were going to die. But a tiny piece… it had hope.”

He nods. “Barry does a great job of making a little bit of hope go a long way.”

Thomas agrees, glancing between him and the aforementioned speedster.“He’s a great man… I think he’s good for you.”

Bruce startles, thrown for a moment. “What are you…”

“I like him,” Thomas says, facing Bruce. He smiles like he knows a secret that Bruce is privy to as well. “And knowing you have Barry in your life… well, it gave me some comfort while the world ended all around me. To protect you when I couldn’t… to make you happy.”

Taken aback, Bruce breaks away from his father’s gaze. Unfortunately his eyes settle over to the other side where Barry’s blur zips around the Cosmic Treadmill. Bruce imagines what he must look like trying to put it together. Brows furrowed over blue eyes steely in their focus, and his jaw set - tongue peeking out as he’s seen countless times when Barry fully devotes himself to a task.

“I don’t,” Bruce fumbles, “We’re not -” A heavy hand falls on his shoulder, cutting him off.

“Son,” his father says, “believe me, the fact that he’s a guy is the last thing I’m worried about.”

“But -”

A crash sounds from far off, forcing their conversation to stall on an unfinished road. “They’re coming,” Thomas says, “You ready?” He pulls two guns out from holsters on his side, Bruce aware enough to notice the motion.

“No killing,” Bruce tells his father.

“It’s not like they won’t have it coming -”

He doesn’t waver. “No.”

They’re chopping away at the grandfather clock, seconds away from breaching the first line. While Bruce might not have enough ability to navigate the murky waters of relationships, there are a few things he can still strongly hold onto. And his unwillingness to kill is one of them.

Thomas flicks the safety off. “Fine, but you can’t stop me from maiming them.”

Soldiers leap down the steps, closing the distance between them and the Waynes. A tall, dark-skinned woman tackles Thomas, letting two of her friends circle Bruce. He pulls out his bat-a-rangs, body twinging from Thawne’s earlier abuse. Bruce stamps down the pain, however, and allows adrenaline to lead him through the choreography.

He drops down onto his back, kicking the first woman who charges him into the one waiting behind. Then, flipping back onto his feet, he launches the barrage of bat-a-rangs watching them explode in front of the waiting legion. Their shields can’t protect them from the concussive blowback, and one of their numbers falls into the deep chasm.

Bruce gives them no room to breathe, rolling a few pellets onto the ground before blocking an uppercut. The strike hid an even fiercer knee kick that rips a few of his stitches open. He staggers back a few feet, a hand pressed to his side. The group regains their bearings and readies their attacks. Luckily the pellets hiss and blast open, a growing foam washing over them.

The woman in front of him curses, her long red hair swaying as she stalks towards him. Her axe raised, Bruce readies a dodge for when she swings. She never does; the woman who attacked his father slams into her and sends them both crumbling to the floor.

Bruce looks at his father, a few cuts across his chest being the only injury. “Are you okay?” he asks him, hands relaxing from rock-like fists. Bruce tries to tell him ‘yes’, only the pain in his side rears back and has him biting back a gasp. He collapses into his father’s ready arms.

“Guys! Guys, I think I’m done!”

They turn to see Barry waving for them, a rebuilt treadmill to his side.

“Like I said,” Thomas whispers, carrying Bruce over, “he’s a real good one.”

Bruce blames the overwhelming hurt on his inability to give a response. The growls and shouts from the Amazons fade into the background as Thomas leads them both over to where Barry waits. He hands him over to Barry, Bruce straining to stay with his father.

“That was a scouting party,” Thomas says, “There’ll be more coming without a doubt. You two need to leave now.”

“No,” Bruce gasps, “You… what about -”

A loud rumble shakes the earth beneath them, cracking fissures in the cave walls and knocking stalactites into free falls. One shatters a few feet away, and Barry’s grip on Bruce tightens. “Bruce,” Barry shouts, “This place… it’s starting to tear itself apart!”

“But what about -”

“Bruce,” Thomas speaks over him, voice firm and face set with grim determination, “Bruce, please… this place was never meant to exist. I… I wasn’t supposed to live. But you can. With your family, your son, and…” He pauses, gaze briefly flitting over to Barry. “Stop letting the bat control your life… choose to be happy.”

Amongst the noises of the world ending Bruce hears the Amazons from before ripping themselves from their entrapment, alongside the echoes of even more flooding in. Barry pulls him towards the treadmill, one foot on it. He continues to fight, calling for his father.

“Barry,” Thomas addresses the other man, “Please look after him. Keep him safe.” The words weigh heavily on Bruce’s heart, he and Thomas the only two aware of what exactly his father asks.

“Of course,” Barry says, both him and Bruce on the treadmill. He runs, the electricity flying off the machine with each step. Bruce feels the lightning coursing through him, sparks flying every which way. Thomas watches them with a calm acceptance, shoulders set back and chin held high.

The scene fades from view the faster Barry runs. Thomas, the Amazons, and the Flashpoint reality disappears, and yet Bruce cannot calling for his father. He returns to that little boy in the alley, forced to sit in a dirty puddle while his trembled cries go unanswered. So distraught he barely notices the other speeding blur that passes them until Barry shouts his name.

“Thawne!”

Up ahead he sees the yellow-clad speedster chasing an unseen force, button in hand. Barry pounds into the treadmill with reckless abandon, Bruce’s hold on him tightening so he doesn’t fall off.

They chase for what feels like years but could possibly be seconds, never coming close enough to catch Thawne. Barry tries his hardest, reaching out and straining to snag the tiniest scraps of fabric. Before he could Zoom bursts forward with the aid of a second wind, tearing into some other facet of reality. The tremors of his speed causes the already shaky treadmill to come apart under them. Unable to travel further, he and Barry become spectators as Thawne confronts some so-called ‘god’. Stare in terrific awe because the villain disintegrates before their eyes, an unseen shadow proving his might. All that remains of their foe is a haunting scream.

“Bruce,” Barry says, now focused on the predicament at hand, “Bruce I need you to hold on. If you let go, we’re going to be lost -” The treadmill shatters, and they’re thrown more into the strange energy around them. Bruce, numb and exhausted, can only sense Barry fly away because the warmth at his side disappears and a rush of cold replaces it.

His last thought before the shock overtakes him is how he never appreciated how nice Barry’s presence made him feel.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bruce cannot sleep. In these instances he would usually slip into his costume and swing from the rooftops or sit at his computer and pull pieces from a crime scene and assemble the puzzle. With his injuries from Thawne and the wreckage of his equipment, all he’s left with is his mind and the window of his study.

There’s a lot stirring inside his head that he shouldn’t be bored - the figure that killed Thawne, the button, the mysterious man who saved him and Barry. But they all pale in comparison to his reunion with Thomas Wayne.

He has much to unpack about what they spoke about. Sitting in the very spot where the idea for Batman was born, Bruce considers following his father’s advice. Hanging up the cowl and stepping out of the shadows.

“Happy,” he mumbles to himself, “Can I really be…”

A montage of a life without Batman flashes, where he turns Bruce Wayne into the hero he was meant to be instead of the misdirection he uses to keep up appearances. Imagines what it might have been if he never took to the cowl in the first place.

But then he remembers what his father said, about his family. Bruce would never have had them without help from the Batman. He might embody the night but Batman was responsible for hanging each star in his sky.

�� “I’d have no sons…” Bruce says, “No friends - real friends. I never would have met -”

His father’s approval comes to mind, and Bruce shakes his head. He wills the blush away from his face, dragging a hand down his cheeks to stem the flow of blood.

He thinks about Barry, considers him the way his father did. It’s true that he and the other man had always had a special bond - one of mutual respect, both master detectives who can only discuss their skills with the other. True equals. But there was never anything more to it.

Sure Bruce may smile more in his presence, but Barry can crack even the most petrified faces. Sometimes he would overstep boundaries others have that sent Bruce spiraling into a bad mood in the pace; however it only conjured up some fond exasperation when Barry did it. And seeing him in danger did grip at his heart in the cruelest of ways, driving him to keeping the speedster safe.

But that didn’t mean he liked Barry in that way.

Shaking his head, he casts those thoughts to the side. “You’re tired Bruce,” he says to himself, “Overthinking… he has Iris and you…” Chuckling darkly, Bruce lets the words drop off.

As the sun crests over the hills Bruce decides to follow his father’s advice. He will be happy. There is someone he can be happy with.

He thinks his father would have liked her… even if she wasn’t Barry.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue:

Thomas considers Bane’s offer, weighing the options in his mind. While it was a cruel and sadistic plot against his son, there were enough loose ends that he could leverage to give his son the family and happy ending he deserved. But he needs to play his cards close to his chest.

“I want to see Batman die as much as anyone,” he starts, “But I may need some time to think it over. I’m still getting used to this reality… it’s only been days since you found me.”

Bane nods. “I understand. I hope you know, though, that I won’t stop my plans for you either. Everything needs to happen at the right moment, and we’re working on a very tight schedule.” He smirks, “Why in a few days I’ll be ruining your son’s wedding.”

He frowns, “He’s getting married?”

“Yes, it would have been a lovely affair - a truly happy moment. But unfortunately I can’t have a happy Batman.”

Thomas sighs, thinking of Bruce standing at an altar in a black tuxedo. Imagines him waiting for someone who would never come. Pictures Bruce believing that the love of his life had run out on him. As much as he wanted for his son to be happy, now that he’s here Thomas can take over.

“I won’t stop you,” he tells Bane, “I do ask though that whatever you do to Flash, it’s no serious harm.”

Confusion settles clearly across Bane’s face at Thomas’s request. “What?”

“The Flash? To stop the wedding - I don’t know what you have planned but I’d hate to see the poor boy killed -”

“Why do you think I would hurt the Flash?”

“...Because that’s who my son’s in a relationship… isn’t he?”

Bane laughs, a cruel bellowing sound that grates on Thomas’s nerves. “Well that would be a complete shock to everyone!”

Thomas scowls at him, leaning forward. “What is it you’re trying to say.”

“I hate to break it to you old man, but your boy isn’t marrying the speedster,” Bane says, “He’s planning to tie the knot with a thief named Selina Kyle - otherwise known as Catwoman .”

Settling back into his seat, Thomas takes in this new information. Somehow adjusting to the idea he was no longer in a world that was crumbling all around him seemed easier than accepting that his son wasn’t dating Barry Allen. Immediately his loose plans for the future adjust, roping Barry into them. If they weren’t together, Thomas would at least like to know why .

Bane, ignoring Thomas’s silence, continues on, “Flash though? I didn’t consider adding him… but if there is something there for you to see I might just have to expand my operation out to Central City… and I know the Gotham Girl for the job.”

#Batman #Flash #Bruce Wayne #Barry Allen #Thomas Wayne #Batflash #Batflash fic

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westallenfun · 6 years ago

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A Twisted Christmas Carol, Chapter 2

Author Notes: For the amazing @backtothestart02 from @jade4813. I hope you don’t think I forgot that I owed you one! Merry Christmas to one of my favorite people in fandom. I hope you like it!

Title: A Twisted Christmas Carol

Rating: PG-13

Synopsis: Nora wishes she could change the past. Iris longs to embrace every moment of the present. And Barry wonders about a future that yet may be. The Candlemaker shows them the lives they could have - all they have to do is make a wish. But not all wishes should be granted. Loosely inspired by The Christmas Carol.

Chapters: 2/5

Chapter 2 Nora’s Wish

The egregore smiled as he wrapped himself in the thoughts and memories of the mind in which he inhabited. A child of the future, lost in the past, desperately wanting to change history as yet unwritten. It would almost be too easy to lure her into his trap.

He saw what she wanted – the lives she wished her parents could share. Lives without heroism. Without loss. He could give her this. From the darkness in the back of her mind, he whispered. How easy it would be for him to wrap the threads of fate around his finger and tug gently. Change the past, and it would change the present. With nothing but a simple twist of fate, he could unwrite the future.

He would show Nora the life that could have been – that perhaps would have been, if only…

~~~

Iris groaned Linda came bounding through the door. “Hey!” her friend greeted her brightly. “You’re still in bed?”

Groaning, she threw her pillow over her head, trying to block out the rest of the world. “I was out late,” she muttered into its downy softness. “Awards show.”

“Oh, I know,” Linda replied, sounding entirely too smug. “Maybe I should say everybody knows you were at an awards show last night.”

Frowning into the pillowcase, Iris pondered her friend’s words. Actually, it was less her words and more her tone. She seemed entirely too self-satisfied, like she knew something Iris didn’t. Pushing aside the corner of the pillow, she threw her friend a suspicious glare. “What do you mean, everybody knows? Why did you say it like that?”

Flopping back onto the bed, she answered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she proclaimed. When Iris just continued to stare, she threw a wicked grin in her direction. “Unless you mean your interview. People can’t stop talking about it online.”

She froze, casting her mind back to memories of the night before. As was common with awards shows, Iris had faced a bevy of reporters from the moment she arrived at the venue. It had taken almost an hour just to get past the red carpet, as she was stopped every few seconds by paparazzi asking the same questions, time and time again. “What do you mean, the interview? I didn’t say anything interesting last night, did I?”

Lifting her eyebrows, Linda asked, “Didn’t you? If you say so.” Grabbing her phone, she pulled up a video and tilted the screen for Iris to see.

“Is there any actor you’d like to work with?” a reporter asked after getting Iris’s attention on the red carpet.

She laughed, brushing her hair back off her face. “I’d love to do anything with Barry Allen…Oh, God. You’re recording, aren’t you?”

“They really were recording?” Iris yelped, sitting bolt upright in bed. “The light wasn’t on! I hoped they didn’t catch that!”

Linda laughed. “Oh, they caught it, all right. You’re trending on Twitter this morning. People can’t stop talking about how cute you and Barry would be together.”

“I am? They are? Oh, my god.”

“Anyway, your personal humiliation is fun, but it’s not the only reason I’m here. Come on, sleepyhead. Get up. We have work to do.”

Iris groaned, throwing the pillow back over her face. “No. Never. I’m never getting out of bed. I’m too humiliated. Just let me die here.”

Linda snorted. Unperturbed by her friend’s dramatics, she replied, “All right, then I’ll just talk business with your corpse. I think I know which project you should do next.”

Tossing back her pillow again, Iris accepted that she wouldn’t be allowed to die in peace and sat up once more. “You know, you are my best friend. A little sympathy wouldn’t kill you,” she grumbled.

“I’m sympathetic!” At Iris’s skeptical look, she offered sheepishly, “My laughter is…totally…sympathetic!”

Rolling her eyes, Iris grabbed for the script Linda had placed on the mattress next to her. “Uh huh. So what is this project you think I should do?” Seeing the title, she lifted her eyebrows. “Lin, I thought we said I shouldn’t do any more romcoms for a while. I’m on the verge of being typecast as it is!”

Linda nodded, “I know, but you’re going to want to be in this one. You’ll be playing a woman who asks her friend to pretend to be a date at her ex-boyfriend’s wedding. But your character ends up going with his brother instead. And she doesn’t know it, but he’s had a crush on your character for years.”

Wrinkling her nose with a skeptical grimace, Iris started flipping through the script. “I don’t know, Lin. Doesn’t this just sound like every other romantic comedy? What’s so great about it?”

Linda threw her an innocent smile. “Well, did you happen to catch any late night talk shows after the show?” Rolling her eyes, Iris shook her head. “Then you’re going to want to watch this.”

As Iris stared at her, she pulled up a video on her phone and then turned the screen so that Iris could watch. “They taped last week sometime, but it wasn’t aired until last night.” Barry Allen was talking to a talk show host who was known for his boyish charm and the games he played with his guests.

Iris watched as a clip of the two of them playing a variation of Truth or Dare began to play. Linda had skipped through the first minute or so of the game, so Iris didn’t see how Barry ended up with egg in his hair, his pants drenched with water. But she watched as the final round began to play.

“So, you lost the last round. That means it’s time for a Truth Card,” the host – who wasn’t in any better shape than Barry – prompted. “You’re not nervous, are you?” he asked.

Barry laughed. “A little. I know what kinds of questions you’ve asked before.” But he gamely walked up to a giant board with envelopes pinned to it, chose one at random, and handed it to the host.

The host opened the envelope. “There are three questions on this card, and you have five seconds to answer them. First question: Your celebrity crush?”

“Iris West,” he replied, blushing red.

The host’s next words were drowned out by Iris’s gasp, and Linda paused the video. With a huge grin, she rewound a few seconds and hit play again.

“-stion: Your celebrity crush?”

“Iris West.”

“Aw, look. He’s so adorable. He’s blushing when he says your name and everything! Now do you see why everyone is talking about you guys today?” Iris was still staring at the paused screen, unable to believe it. Barry Allen had a crush on her? The way he’d blushed when he’d admitted it, too! She just wanted to bask in this moment.

But Linda continued, “The fact that your slip and this interview aired on the same night? No wonder the Internet is losing it. And not just them. Apparently, the director of this movie already thought the two of you would be perfect for his picture. Last night just sealed the deal for him; he’s determined to capitalize on all this buzz and cast Iris West and Barry Allen opposite each other in their first romantic movie together.”

“I see,” Iris mused, giving the script a considering look. “Well, if he’s that determined to cast me, I’d hate to let him down.”

With a sly smile, Linda remarked, “You know, I thought you might say that.”

A couple of months later, Iris was trying to project an air of confidence as she walked towards the set. This was it; the first day of filming. It was also the day she was going to meet her costar for the first time. A chemistry test had been scheduled for a few weeks before, but problems on another project forced the director and producers to cancel at the last minute. Known for his preference for ad-libbing and changing things on the fly, the director had then decided that he wanted to capture their first scenes together as strangers, hoping it would add something to the shoot. Iris just hoped she actually would have chemistry with Barry and that it would shine through.

Well, that and she hoped he wasn’t a huge jerk. She’d had a little crush on him, herself, ever since she’d seen him in his breakthrough role as the prince in the modern fairytale Glass Slippers. Though she’d die before she admitted as much to him. Still, in her business, she knew it wasn’t unusual to admire someone from afar, only to find out they were an arrogant narcissist behind the scenes. It would break her heart if she found out Barry Allen was the same.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Barry’s assistant, Gretchen, until she was almost upon her. “Hey,” the other woman greeted her warmly. “Um, I was just looking for you. The director wants to do something different this morning. He wants to start with the ad-lib shoot.”

Though Iris hadn’t worked with the director before, he was known for having a very particular style. He liked to shoot each scene two to three times. The first time, he would always shoot the scene word-for-word according to the script. His actors were not allowed to deviate from the page at all. The second take, he would incorporate his own changes to the script – tweaking lines he didn’t think worked the first time, for example. But he would also always do a third take, in which he asked the actors to ad-lib and have fun with it. To play through the scene as they saw fit. He would then choose the take that he liked best for the final cut.

It was unusual that he would choose to do the ad-lib first, but Iris suspected she understood what was behind it. “I take it we’re not supposed to meet before we start?” He had said he wanted to capture the genuineness of their response to each other.

Gretchen nodded. “You got it,” she said with a small chuckle. “But the thing is, Barry has a thought for something he wants to try for the scene. He wanted me to make sure it would be okay with you first, though.” With a shrug, she explained, “He won’t tell me what it is, but he said it pushes the envelope.”

Surprised and intrigued, she shrugged. “Tell him I said to go for it. I’m curious to know what he has in mind.”

An hour later, Barry sucked in a deep breath as the director called places. It was the scene in which Iris’s character was to show up at her friend’s apartment to pick him up for the wedding only to find that he had left town, claiming an emergency. Upon finding that he’d been asked to join her instead, the two were supposed to argue in the living room until, realizing she had no other choice, Iris’s character begrudgingly agreed to let him join her.

For this take, however, Barry had something else in mind. He’d come up with the idea when he remembered that his character was supposed to be in love with her, though she was oblivious to that fact. He was certainly nervous enough to pull it off. But this being their first meeting in real life, he could only hope that he didn’t completely alienate her.

The director called for action, and he hid behind the corner as he heard Iris enter the set. She called out his character’s brother’s name – Travis. After waiting another second, he strolled nonchalantly around the corner onto the set. Though his smile was a little nervous at first, it became more genuine when he saw her for the first time. It transformed into a wide grin when she turned and saw him for the first time.

Oh my god. Iris turned and caught sight of Barry for the first time, and those three words were the last coherent thought she would have for several seconds. Her higher mental function seemed to abandon her completely as soon as she realized three distinct things: First, he was dressed in nothing but a pair of blue jeans, which hung intriguingly low on his hips. Second, his chest was beaded with droplets of water, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. And third, Barry Allen was even more gorgeous in person than he was on screen.

“Hey, beautiful. Good to see you again,” he greeted her with a sexy grin.

His greeting finally kicked her mind back into gear, reminding her that she was a professional, damn it. “Oh, god!” she blurted, trying and failing to tear her eyes away from his chest (seriously, she was dying to know his workout routine – for as lean as he was, he had amazing abs). “What are you doing shirtless? I mean here?” she babbled, wishing she could get a hold of herself. It was a good thing her character was supposed to be surprised and a little discomfited by him, or this would be downright humiliating.

“Travis is my brother, remember? And this is his place…”

“Yes, of course I know that,” she interrupted him. “But where is he? He’s supposed to be my date to this wedding…?”

He shrugged. “He said he had some sort of emergency. Something to do with work. I was in town visiting anyway, so he asked me to take his place.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. I can’t – you can’t be my date. You’re not…you’re not even dressed.”

Barry laughed and looked down, as though realizing his lack of shirt for the first time. “I do have clothes, you know.”

Remembering that their characters were supposed to be at odds at first, she snapped, “Well, then, can you go put them on?” as she turned to walk away. However, she was so rattled that she’d forgotten the placement of furniture on the set and banged against the island separating the living room from the kitchen.

“Why?” he asked, his voice all innocence. “Does this bother you?”

She snorted and kept her face averted to hide her blush as she darted around the island, trying to put some distance between them. “No, of course not,” she lied. “It’s just that this isn’t going to work, you know. Nobody will believe we’re dating. We’ve argued every time we’ve spent more than five minutes together. We don’t even like each other!”

As she’d known he would, Barry followed. She could feel him behind her, and when he stepped close to her, Iris turned and caught her breath. She was captivated by the flecks of gold in his eyes, and she had to clutch the edge of the island behind her to stop herself from reaching out to see if he felt as good as he looked. With that smile that had captured her heart the first time she’d seen it on screen, he leaned down and murmured, “Well, I hate to tell you this, but beautiful, it’s too late. Travis left hours ago. If you’re determined to take a date to this wedding to show up Billy the Weasel, it’s me or nothing.”

Then, reaching out, he gently captured a lock of hair, sliding it between two fingers. “So how about it? Still want a date to this thing? I can pretend to be desperately in love with you if you can.”

Iris’s eyes fell to his lips, and she felt herself lean almost imperceptibly towards him as she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Before she could forget herself (and a good fifty pages of script) and give in to temptation, the director yelled cut.

She startled, and Barry jumped away from her, his smile turning sheepish and a little shy. Iris looked to the cameras and crew to find that everyone had stopped what they were doing and were just staring at them. More than one mouth was even agape. “Um…was that okay?” she asked as she straightened, pretending it had all been an act.

The director stared at the two of them, and then a slow smile spread across his face. “Are you kidding? Honey, that was magic.”

“Hey,” he greeted her with a warm smile when she joined him at the craft table between takes. “Listen. About this morning. I hope I didn’t go too far?” He had to force himself to tear his gaze away from her face; it was hard to believe that she could be even more beautiful in person than she was on his screen. It was enough to take his breath away. If he wasn’t careful, he was afraid he’d make a fool of himself.

She grinned up at him, seemingly not noticing his response to her. “No, it was great,” she acknowledged. “But just so you know, I’ll be getting you back for that one of these days.” He laughed and pretended to occupy himself with picking out the perfect muffin as he wracked his brain for something to say. He wanted to keep talking to her, to get to know her better, but she made him feel nervous and tongue-tied.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Iris added some cream and sugar to her cup of coffee. To forestall her walking away, he blurted, “So, um…” But no further words came to mind, so his attempt at conversation faded into nothingness.

But when Iris turned to face him, he could see the blush staining her cheeks. “So, listen. You didn’t – uh – you didn’t see my interview, did you?”

He didn’t have to ask which interview, and he’d only watched it a dozen times or so. But he threw her a sheepish grin. “Not if you didn’t see mine.”

Iris laughed; it was the most beautiful sound in the world. “It’s a deal. Anyway, it’s all so silly, when you think about it. Imagine being nervous about…I mean, it was a joke, right? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, right,” he agreed a shade too quickly, unsure if she meant his interview or her own. “Definitely.”

But before their conversation could continue, they were called back to set.

The next morning, when Iris came to set, she found Barry there waiting for her. He was holding two cups of coffee, and he held one out to her. “Five am shoots. Gotta love ‘em, right?” he joked as they headed to their places.

Iris groaned as she took a giant swig of her drink. It would take several more minutes for her brain to wake up enough to realize that he’d made it just the way she liked it.

Handsome, sexy, and conscientious of the people around him? Iris really was in trouble.

“So, you’ve got a thing for my daughter, huh?”

Barry spun around to see Iris’s dad in the doorway of his trailer. They had never officially met, but he’d seen the older man on set several times before. “What?” he breathed.

Joe chuckled. “It’s pretty obvious,” he pointed out. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“Well, s-sure,” he stammered. “I mean, we’re acting, right? That’s what we do. We act.”

Throwing him a level look, Iris’s dad pointed out, “Son, nobody is that good of an actor. Not even her.”

“Wait, what? It’s that obvious? I mean, you think I – that she – are you saying she –” Joe just chuckled and shook his head as he walked away.

“All right, places, please! Places!”

Iris and Barry put aside the script pages they had been studying for the next day’s shoot and headed for the set. We’re ad-libbing this one, right?” Barry asked as they fell into step next to each other.

Iris nodded. “Yeah. Actually, I have an idea for what to do this time. You okay with going with me on this one?” It was an early scene in the film. Their characters had just checked in at the bed and breakfast with the rest of the wedding party, and they were awkwardly trying to get used to their pretend relationship. The scene in the script was sweet, a little touching, and a little humorous but Iris felt like there was something missing.

Without a second’s hesitation, Barry nodded. “Absolutely,” he agreed.

They took a moment to establish where they wanted to start the scene, and then they took their places as the cameras began to roll. “All right, so, if we’re going to pretend to be in a relationship, we should get our stories straight. How did we meet?” she asked as they busied themselves by unpacking.

“Why not stick to the truth? I’m your friend’s brother, and we first met a couple years ago when I came into town for a visit. We’ve seen each other a few times since, and recently, we realized there was something more between us.”

She nodded. “I suppose that works. So you asked me out, and –”

He grinned over at her. “Oh, no. You definitely asked me out.”

Pausing in her task, she turned on him with an indignant look. “What? No! Why would I ask you out? If anyone is going to believe we’re together at all, they’ll only believe you asked me out first.” Throwing him a smug smile, she added, “In fact, I made you work for it.”

He snorted, dropping his clothes on the bed and scooting around the side to stand in front of her. “Look at me. You know you can’t get enough of this. You asked me out.”

His grin made it clear he was teasing, but Iris refused to give ground. Smiling up at him sweetly, she shot back, “You asked me out. I finally accepted. Mostly out of pity.”

He laughed and bent down until their faces were only an inch part. “Oh, yeah? Well, I think –”

He was so close; he couldn’t have set up the moment any better if he’d known what she was going to do. “I think we should kiss,” she blurted.

Even though he knew this was all an act – they were filming, after all, Barry still jumped at her suggestion. He took a hasty step backwards, bumping into the bed he’d forgotten was there, and had to recover his balance before he could continue. “Wh-what?” he responded, his shock and confusion genuine. “I mean…now? Here? Now? Why?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she cocked her head to the side and tried not to laugh at his reaction. “Because of what just happened. We’re supposed to be in love, after all. How are we going to pull off the charade when the time comes if you act like the thought of kissing me had never crossed your mind before?”

Oh, it had crossed his mind. Several times. But his character wouldn’t tell her that at this part of the story, and he certainly wasn’t going to admit to it, either. Iris seemed to be enjoying letting her character have the upper hand for the moment, because she stepped close to him and slid her hand down the line of buttons on his shirt. “What’s the matter? You’re not going to chicken out on our agreement, are you?”

Before he could second-guess himself, Barry turned and grabbed her around the waist. Iris had put her purse on a small side table in front of the window, but it fell to the ground when he walked her backwards until she bumped up against its edge. Almost belatedly, he remembered not to block the view of the camera as he lifted her easily and rested her on the table’s edge. However, all thoughts of work fled from his mind when he heard her catch her breath as he stepped between her legs and pulled her in close.

“No,” he growled, giving himself over to the assertiveness in his character that he would never dare risk in real life. “But if this is going to be our first kiss, I want to make it memorable. That way, if you’re ever asked about this moment, you’ll have a story that’s worth telling.”

Perched on the table, she was taller than him, so she rested her hand on the cheek that was away from the camera. Then, tilting her head so her hair would form a curtain to frame the moment, Iris bent and pulled him in for a kiss.

Barry lost himself in the moment and the feel of her lips against his. He was so wrapped up in the taste of her kiss that he almost didn’t hear the director yelling cut. At the sound of his voice, however, Iris broke off the kiss, but she didn’t pull away right away. In fact, they didn’t break apart until the director cleared his throat loudly. “Uh, you guys…we’re done with the scene, you know. You don’t have to keep staring at each other like that.”

Before Barry could step back, Iris grinned at him and whispered, “Got you back.”

“Oh my god. I thought this morning’s shoot would never end. I can’t wait to get back into my own clothes. I just want to go home and crash,” Iris moaned, rubbing her neck with one hand. When she saw Barry’s face fall, she dropped her hand and asked, “What? Did you have something else in mind?”

Running a hand through his hair, he suggested, “I thought we could grab a cup of coffee together. Maybe do some Christmas shopping? I haven’t had a chance to go yet, and I thought maybe we could…”

Her exhaustion melting away, Iris straightened. “You know what? That’s a great idea. Give me ten minutes; let me get changed and we can go.”

When she returned several minutes later, Barry was already there, waiting for her. Smiling, she looped her arm in his and headed to the car. “So, Barry Allen. Where to first?” she asked.

“First we get that cup of coffee. I know just the spot,” he said, pulling into traffic.

But things didn’t go as planned. Everywhere they went, they drew attention to themselves. People whispered when they spotted them together at the coffee house. Others openly gawked when they ducked into a store to do some shopping.

“You know, you would think I’d have gotten used to this by now. Never a private moment, huh?” Barry asked wryly.

“It’s all right,” she mused, linking her fingers in his. “Let them stare. At least we’re together.”

“Hey, you two! Come over here! There’s someone I want you to meet!” Filming had just wrapped through the end of the year, and Iris and Barry were attending a Christmas party at the producer’s house. Forcing smiles, they headed towards where the producer was talking to a beautiful blonde in a red dress.

“Iris, Barry. This is Cheryl. I’ve been telling her about your new project. She’s eager to do a piece on the two of you. I think it’ll make good press. Make sure to carve out a few minutes to give her an interview in the new year, okay?”

From the producer of their film, it wasn’t a request. Barry and Iris dutifully nodded and exchanged greetings as he walked away. Before they could make excuses and escape, however, Cheryl fell into step next to them and asked, “So, everyone’s been saying the two of you have incredible chemistry. Where does that come from, do you think?”

They exchanged a glance, bother blushing as they chuckled nervously. “Oh, you know. We just…I guess it comes from just being really good friends. I feel like I’ve known Iris forever,” he offered.

“So what do you –” Cheryl began, but her question was interrupted by a party guest’s shout.

“Hey, guys! Look! You’re standing under mistletoe!” Iris looked up to find they’d wandered under the mistletoe hung in the doorway.

Giving them both a sly smile, Cheryl pointed out, “You know what that means, don’t you? Come on; it’s tradition.”

“Oh, ah…” Barry stammered. “Th-that’s not…I mean, we don’t have to –”

“Don’t be silly,” Iris murmured, throwing her arms around his neck. “It’s Christmas.” Drawing him toward her, she ignored the cheers of the crowd. In fact, she forgot about everyone around them as she drew him in for a kiss, tilting her head back and leaning into the warmth of his body.

When they finally broke apart, she shivered at the caress of his warm breath against her cheek. “Barry, there’s something I should tell you,” she whispered, pulling him aside. “I –” But standing close to him like this, lost in his green eyes and the warmth of his smile, she lost her nerve. “I just…do you ever…I wish we could have met each other sooner. We could have spent our entire lives together.”

He smiled down at her. “You know, we still can.”

~~~

This could be their lives, the voice in her mind promised as Nora watched her parents fall in love all over again. Like something out of a movie. No fear. No pain. No Flash. All you have to do is make a wish, and this can be theirs.

But Nora remembered her mother’s words in the dream – “I wish we could have met each other sooner. We could have spent our entire lives together.” She thought about how her parents’ faces lit up every time they talked about the lives they’d shared together. As hectic, terrifying, and incredible as their life together could be, Nora knew without a doubt they’d never trade it for anything.

Nora wished they never had to face potentially losing each other, but she couldn’t take away the memories of the life they had built together. With only a tiny stab of regret, she responded to the voice whispering in her mind.

No.

#the flash #westallen secret santa #westallen #barry allen #iris westallen #iris west #jade4813 #fanfiction #the flash fanfiction

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suddenrundown · 6 years ago

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All the Time in the World: Chapter 7

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She hadn’t seen Barry all day.

It wasn’t that Lup was worried about him; there were plenty of days that their paths just didn’t cross for whatever reason. Today she had been out scavenging and looting the ruined areas of the city with Taako while Barry did... whatever he did when she wasn’t around. Probably sciencing the shit out of something. It was his job after all, and while she definitely got a kick out of working with him, he obviously wasn’t going to stop just because she wasn’t helping him out.

But on those days, she missed him.

Continued under the cut, or you can read it on ao3

Well, there was really no reason to sit around missing him if she could just do something about it. She hopped up from her spot at the Starblaster’s cafeteria table and looked down at the hunched over blob that resembled her brother. Running around scavenging took a lot of out the guy. She poked his arm.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Taako gave some sort of muffled garbled response, and she got nothing intelligible out of it except for “effort”.

She gave him a smile he couldn’t see and a pat on the back. “I’m not asking you to go, I’m just telling you.”

A noise that sounded like a question. She was feeling restless now for some reason. “Just gonna go talk to Barry.”

Taako moved and turned his head, peeking up at her. After a moment, he shifted back, hiding his face once more. Another mumble.

“Love you too,” she laughed, sing song, as she turned and left the room.

Now to find that nerd.

He probably wasn’t that far. They’d given up on finding the Light here months ago, and after seventeen years of knowing him, she knew he didn’t tend to stray too far from the ship if he wasn’t looking for it. And if he did, he’d take someone else. Normally her. At this point, it just made sense.

Paying no attention as she headed for the Starblaster’s exit, she rounded the corner and bumped straight into Merle, knocking him over. At least Lucretia was there to catch him.

“Shit, I’m sorry Merle!” Lup exclaimed, reaching out to offer him a hand.

He took it. “Geez, where’s the fire?” he asked, rubbing his head a little.

“No fires,” she promised, still apologetic. “I was just thinking. Speaking of, have either of you seen Barry around here?”

Lucretia shook her head. “I’m pretty sure he’s still out working. Merle and I have been just outside the Starblaster for a while now, so we would have seen him.” She held up a light blue journal for Lup to see, excitement evident. “We’ve been going over some of the stories that the robots have told us about this world and their history, it’s really fascinating.”

“I bet it’s kick ass, Lucretia dear, and I want to hear all about it soon.” Lup smiled. “Right now, I’m off to find our science man.”

“Try not to run over any bots while you’re at it,” Merle quipped.

“I’ll do my best,” she promised.

As she continued on her way, Lup smiled to herself. She was grateful for the friendship she had with Barry. No doubt, she’d definitely say the same about everyone else in the IPRE; they were all pretty rad in their own ways. But it had taken a hell of a lot longer to get to any sort of relationship beyond formal colleagues with Barry than it had with some of the others, which sort of made sense. Barry kept to himself a lot, especially in the first few years of their journey.

Actually, that wasn’t really fair or accurate; Barry was always there. Lup often watched and she could tell that he was always engaged with what was happening around him, it was more like he kept his thoughts to himself. He didn’t always speak up, even if he had something to say. Understandable; there were people much louder than him who did a fair share of talking. Herself included, she could admit. That was no one’s fault.

She could also admit, however, that the teasing probably contributed to his reserved nature, and she could take some responsibility for that one. While she never meant to be cruel, she loved to tease, and she sure did a shit ton of that to Barry. As did everyone else, but she didn’t think anyone got such a kick out of the way he blushed and stumbled over his replies like she did. It was sort of adorable, she thought, but probably not from his perspective. She had, after all, called him a nerd that first day at the IPRE conference all those years ago. A little over the top and definitely unnecessary, and looking back, probably influenced how he seemed to tip toe around his words when she was nearby. Unfortunate, but she definitely tried to make up for it, which only made him blush and stammer more, which encouraged her, and on and on the pattern went.

The turning point, as far as she could tell, was back when she found him crying during that fucking awful fifth cycle. She definitely didn’t think less of the guy for having a breakdown (hell, if she didn’t have Taako around, she might have had one herself), but it completely broke her heart to see him that way. She was glad she was there, though, and happier still that he trusted her enough to let her be.

That night changed something about their relationship, and it was definitely for the better. Lup still teased and Barry still turned the color of his IPRE robe, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable anymore. It felt good-natured, even if Barry still had moments when he didn’t say much of anything back. That was just Barry, and she could appreciate that. But for all the moments he was silent, there were just as many where he wasn’t. As it turned out, Barry liked to talk when given the chance, especially if the subject was science related. He knew a lot of shit, and what he didn’t know, he was eager to find out. His enthusiasm rubbed off on her, and she quickly got involved in hypothesizing and running tests and hypothesizing some more. The two of them learned about whole societies that way, and figured out the Hunger’s deal, too. Who knew being a science nerd was so cool?

They didn’t just talk science though; they talked about everything else too. As a good science nerd, he knew how to ask questions, and Lup was more than willing to give answers. She liked telling him about her life, and she also liked learning about his. They talked about the worlds they’d been in, the people they’d met, the days they’d had. Maybe it wasn’t exactly special, but she treasured his friendship nonetheless.

“Hey Lup!”

Lup looked up to find Magnus coming towards her. “Magnus, my dude! What’s up?”

Magnus stopped in front of her. “Just headed back to the Starblaster to eat. Was down a tier finishing up that robot arm for the ship,” he told her, pointing his thumb over his shoulder back towards the way he came. “Barry’s still down there, I think.”

“Awesome, that’s who I was looking for!”

“Well then you’re in luck. I’ll see you in a bit.” He held his hand up over his head.

She held hers up as well and jumped a bit to reach his, making a satisfying smack. “See ya!”

Magnus chuckled, then continued to trek back up to the ship as Lup headed down.

After seventeen years, the IPRE were more than just her fellow crew members. The seven of them were the only constants in this crazy life they led, and Lup considered them to be more her friends than her colleagues. She would go so far as to say that she loved and cared about all of them, which she never thought would be the case when she and Taako signed themselves up for this whole adventure. It had never been all that difficult for her to fit in with other people back in their home world though, so the fact that she got along so well with the five other people in the ship she wasn’t related to didn’t necessarily surprise her. Like she said, they were all rad.

It was just somehow different with Barry. She liked the moments he was quiet just as much as the moments he wasn’t. She liked his capacity to care about literally every living soul he came across. She liked the work they did together, tiring though it was at times. There was just…something about Barry.

Something.

Well, who really cared what it was? Analysis was for nerdy stuff, not friendships.

Now down a tier, Lup stopped and surveyed the area. Most of the buildings here were still standing, but they were showing signs of decay. Vines crawled in and around them and some of them looked to be crumbling in places. Everything was still. It was kind of cool, honestly, and made scavenging with Taako feel like some kind of adventure. But that wasn’t her mission at the moment.

Barry probably wasn’t far. She hesitated a brief moment before heading towards the left side of the dilapidated town, not knowing if she was going the right direction but feeling drawn towards it anyway. She walked for a few minutes passed rows of houses, being careful not to trip over debris, when she suddenly heard a familiar voice not too far off.

Score. Giving herself a mental high five, she walked past another building and into what looked like an old marketplace. Shops were arranged in a wide circle, giving plenty of room for past inhabitants to mingle, and a non-functioning fountain in the middle. And sitting on that fountain’s edge, next to an unfamiliar-looking robot, was Barry.

Lup didn’t remember feeling tense before, but she let out a breath and felt herself relax upon seeing him. She felt kind of silly about it, but shook off the feeling as she neared, listening to Barry as he talked at the robot.

“Look, you aren’t being all that helpful,” he chastised, gesticulating with what appeared to be a screwdriver in his hand. “And if I’m out here trying my best despite having no clue how to fix this issue, then the least you could do is just, you know, not do that.”

“What are they doing?” Lup interjected by way of announcing herself.

Barry turned quickly towards her, only slightly startled, and smiled as he pushed his glasses back up. “Oh, hey Lup. I’m trying to fix them, a hinge in their gears is loose, but every time I start making progress, they keep—Shit!” Barry jolted, pulling his hand away. “Shocking me!” He turned toward the robot. “Stop that.”

Lup raised a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her amusement. “Maybe they aren’t doing it on purpose?”

“Well, they’re getting an awful lot of entertainment out of it for that to be the case.”

The robot did, in fact, look pleased with itself, as much as a robot could look. The screen displaying the eyes look squinted in delight, and it made continuous beeping sounds that sounded like it might be laughing.

“Give up, maybe?” she suggested.

“I’m about to,” Barry replied, looking pointedly at the robot, who stopped beeping immediately. He sighed, and stuck the screwdriver back in.

Lup stifled another chuckle, and knelt down on the other side of the robot.

“So, what brings you here?” Barry asked without looking up, concentrating on his task.

Lup hesitated, suddenly self-conscious for no real reason. She didn’t really have a need to be here beyond seeing Barry, but admitting that sounded stupid. Thankfully, she suddenly remembered something else she wanted to tell him.

“Taako and I found this sort of weird energy back down at the lowest tier we can get to while we were out scavenging today. So we asked the bots about it and apparently, it’s coming from this place called Underton.”

“Oh yeah?” Barry asked, interested.

“Yeah, and we talked to Davenport about it, and he said that we should probably make our way down there and figure out what it is. Maybe we can take it with us, so that whatever it is doesn’t get swallowed up by the Hunger when it comes next week. No clue what it is or what it does, but definitely don’t want the Hunger to have it.”

Barry nodded. “I definitely agree with that. But you said it was passed the lowest tier that isn’t covered with water, right?”

“Right.”

“So…how would we get to it?” Barry asked nervously.

“Swimming down to it, I guess,” Lup laughed. “Taako was talking about using the Water Breathing spell, so apparently, we’re all gonna sprout gills and swim down there!”

Barry didn’t laugh with her. “Maybe someone should stay with the Starblaster?” he asked.

She laughed again. “I don’t think that’s really necessary. Besides, who’d want to stay behind from that awesome field trip?”

He looked up at her then back down quickly. “I mean, I will.”

“Aw, really? But why?” Lup pouted, disappointed.

“It’s just that I don’t—I mean, I just think someone should stay in case there’s a problem, you know?” Barry stuttered out. “Someone has to pilot the ship out of here.”

“I mean, I guess,” Lup said, cocking her head to the side. “As long as you’re sure you’re fine with staying.”

“Mhm, yeah, definitely,” he replied, sounding suspiciously nonchalant.

Lup wasn’t sure what that was about, but decided not to press the issue. It probably was a good idea for someone to stay behind anyway.

Barry jolted again, dropping the screwdriver on the ground. “What the hell?!”

The robot beeped in laughter again. Lup snorted, and then covered her mouth when Barry looked at her.

“You’re just as bad as they are, you know.”

“Hey, I didn’t shock you,” she replied innocently.

He picked up the screwdriver again and pointed it at the robot. “Last warning, my friend. I’ll just leave you to deal with your problem by yourself if you do it again, alright?”

The robot let out a quick beep and then fell silent, and Barry sighed and went to work once more. The three of them sat in silence, the only sounds coming from Barry’s work.

Lup broke the silence after a moment. “Oh, so while Taako and I were out, guess what I found?”

“What did you find?” Barry asked with amusement.

“Another gun. It was sick as hell.”

Barry chuckled. “Was it, now?”

“Hell yeah! Added it to the collection, obviously.”

“Of course. Never know when things like that might come in h—holy shit! Damn it!” Barry threw his hands up in the air as the robot beeped loudly. “Hey, this isn’t funny!”

Contrary to his words, the robot continued its noisy beeping, and Lup was unable to help herself this time. She leaned backwards and laughed louder than the robot, so hard her sides hurt.

“Actually, Barry,” she howled between laughs. “It sort of is!”

After a moment, Barry laughed, as well. “Maybe a little.”

Lup wiped a tear from her cheek, trying to steady herself. “Are you alright?” she asked, slightly apologetic.

“Truthfully, nothing really hurt but my pride.”

“I think you gave that up when you gave them a third chance.”

This time, Barry was the one to laugh hysterically. “That’s probably right!” he cackled.

She watched as Barry, red faced, pushed his glasses up once more as he laughed. A normal habit, but her heart suddenly skipped a beat, and Lup stopped laughing immediately, stopped moving altogether. The gesture, familiar though it was, made her feel something completely unfamiliar.

No, not entirely unfamiliar. She recognized the hitch in her breath, the quickening of her heart, as something that probably happened before, a lifetime ago. But here, now, as she sat watching Barry completely lose his shit, she could hardly concentrate on anything else but the overly warm, fuzzy feeling that she could feel quickly spreading outwards from her chest.

Holy shit.

Barry got a hold of himself and looked over at her, and then suddenly seemed concerned. “Lup? Are you okay?”

She had no idea what her face looked like, but she quickly tried to fix her expression to something normal, so that maybe he’d stop looking at her long enough for the fire she hoped wasn’t entirely evident on her face to die down. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. “Super fine.”

She didn’t think she sounded entirely convincing, but the answer seemed to satisfy him anyway. He looked up at the sky. “It’s getting dark, I think we should probably head back.” He looked down at the robot. “You can come and see if some other brave soul will fix you.”

The robot beeped happily, and the three set off in silence, comfortable for all except Lup.

She was quiet, but she felt like each step she took screamed that something was different, that something had changed, but that was stupid. With the fire gone from her face, surely none of the feelings she was currently being bombarded with were obvious to anyone but herself. She was sure she needed to keep it that way.

Barry was her friend, her science buddy. Her colleague.

Who she might be in love with.

And she didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

#the adventure zone #taz balance #blupjeans #barry bluejeans #lup #taz fic #barry x lup #lup x barry #all the time in the world

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cheetahsprints · 6 years ago

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Fest Fill #4

Prompt: Cisco finds out he’s pregnant while Harry’s gone. @heckyeahharrisco

Words: 1717

A/N: This takes place after Season 3/Sometime early season 4.

Harry goes in last after everyone else has filed out. He can see signs of perspiration in Cisco’s face, though his hair has been pushed back. He holds close his tiny bundle, while Harry keeps a respectful distance.

Inside, he furiously resents whoever the mysterious impregnating individual is for not being here for Cisco. At least he has his friends.

Harry feels he’s somehow done something wrong. Cisco discovered his pregnancy apparently a few weeks after Harry left, however Cisco didn’t think to inform him. Not even after his inevitable return. Harry didn’t actually find out until Cisco was in labor.

To be fair, he should have realized. Cisco complained of various pains and constantly asked Harry to get him strawberry milkshakes. But he could still breach. Harry thought he wouldn’t be able to do that if he was pregnant. Turned out wrong.

Harry can’t resent him for it. He doesn’t blame him. He hasn’t always treated Cisco very well, and he regrets that. But he hadn’t known the brightness that Cisco was capable of shining into his dark recesses.

He looks soft and bright post-birth. Gorgeous.

Harry remarks, “Incredible. Isn’t it?”

Cisco grins proudly at the new life in his arm, lighting up his face and the room. It reminds him painfully of a similar scene in his life. It seems like yesterday, but also a lifetime ago. Cisco’s head lulls to the side, his eyes and expression drooping from his exhaustion.

Almost too quiet, Cisco unexpectedly utters, "HR."

"What?"

“He’s the...Er, sperm donor, more or less. Don’t pretend it wasn’t killing you inside."

"You had this sadness in your eyes - I thought he hurt you. But it was none of my business."

"But you wondered." It's not a question at all.

"Yes," Harry admits. He exhales slowly. "... How did you two get. Together? Was he... Good to you?"

"He - yes he was very - caring."

He doesn't understand how Cisco could overlook safety measures and get pregnant. He doesn't understand because he didn't think Cisco was fond of HR in that way.

Harry didn't know Cisco wanted to be with HR, he didn't know Cisco had slept with him. Harry supposes none of that is his business. They could’ve been trying on purpose for all he knows. And it wouldn’t have made being in love with Cisco any easier if he knew Cisco was taken.

He is insanely jealous that his doppelganger of all people had the privilege of experiencing that kind of intimacy with Cisco. But HR was sweet, kind-hearted, and earnest. Nothing like Harry. More deserving of Cisco than Harry.

Breaking through his bitter thoughts, Cisco asks, "Wanna hold him?"

Harry doesn't, but he carefully plucks the newborn from Cisco's chest. It isn't that he is against holding babies, even those half spawned by someone that he wishes he could’ve been. When Jesse was born, he had flat out refused to hold her right away. It's probably ridiculous, but he was afraid his tiny daughter would break.

Horacio Jonathan Ramon blinks up at him. He's adorable and unbearably small. Tears form in Harry’s eyes. His dusty memories rejoice at this special moment. Harry could swear he sees the Harrison Wells nose on him. It certainly doesn’t look like Cisco’s. He hopes the baby will get Cisco’s eyes. At least the color, if not the fascinating combination of innocence and wisdom held within their depths.

"Hi.”

He's in awe that this baby carries his DNA. That's the fact, even though he wasn't the one to plant the seed. For all intents and purposes, he’s technically holding his son -- Harrison Wells and Cisco Ramon combined. It’s a frightening and awesome prospect.

"You should see your face," Cisco remarks. He doesn't elaborate, and Harry doesn't want to know what his expression is betraying.

“To think I didn’t know you could get pregnant. How did everyone manage not to mention it for months?”

Harry must be fatigued too. He’s not sure what he’s trying to say. Thankfully, Cisco responds with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah... I have a uterus.... shocker. I’m more surprised that you managed to say nothing about my... obvious bun in the oven. Until my water broke...”

They had been eating Big Belly and having a movie marathon, nothing unusual. Then Cisco dropped a bombshell. All the air had gone from his lungs. He had asked quite stupidly, “You’re having a baby?!”

He can still clearly picture Cisco’s irritated expression. He muttered sarcastically, “Do you wanna talk about this now while I give birth on my couch?”

Cisco proceeded to have severe contractions and squeezed the blood out of Harry’s hand. It was a relief for both when Cisco could safely vibe, and Harry left him and his understandably nasty attitude to the doctor. He made it clear he wanted no other witnesses.

Harry couldn’t think properly or function while waiting for news. Iris had to sit him down and wrap his hands around a coffee-filled cup. Barry patted his back as though he was an anxious father again. Might as well have been, he worried for both their lives.

It wasn’t that Harry had not considered that he was pregnant - it was that everyone seemed to dance around it. No one mentioned his apparent weight gain... or said anything that would’ve confirmed whether he was pregnant, or had just become rather (adorably) chubby. Harry didn’t examine it too closely. He thought it was inconsequential because either way did not affect his feelings.

Whoever potentially knocked him up did not appear to be in the picture.

“I was... married. Prior to that, tact was an unknown for me. She’s the only reason I could - I would’ve ran Star Labs into the ground with my personality alone if she hadn’t ever been in my life. If had asked you if you were pregnant, but you weren’t? Awkward.”

Thinking logically, he realizes Cisco would’ve recovered. But Harry wasn’t willing to risk hurting his feelings, regardless of how it affected their relationship.

Cisco sits up, wincing a bit. “Wise teachings. I appreciate that I suppose.”

He starts to eat from the plate of food left by the bed. Harry sinks into a chair, content to hold the baby for now.

After he finishes eating, Harry can feel him staring and looks up. Cisco fidgets, turning a little red in cheeks.

"I didn't answer the other part of your question," Cisco says into the silence. Harry tilts his head, not following his train of thought.

“About. How HR and I - how that happened,” Cisco clarifies.

"You don't have to." Harry was just being stupid and envious. Something suddenly occurs to him. "When you said to Lothario - that you haven't seen it - were you -"

"It wasn't a lie. When we... Lights off, pants down, nothing fancy."

Harry shakes his head in shock. Cisco deserves more than that, much more. He should have someone to care for him as Cisco would no doubt reciprocate, and to have every beautiful inch of him adored.

"I'm not judging if that's what you wanted but -"

Cisco cuts him off. "It is. I approached HR and I -"

He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. He appears to be preparing something Big. Harry waits. Cisco doesn’t meet his eyes. He twists the corner of the blanket with his hands.

"I asked him - I wanted him to pretend to be you. In bed. He was pretty good at it. But I couldn't - there were lines. That I kept. Things that I only wanted to share with the real you. He thought fair's fair, so there wasn't oral - or seeing anything unless absolutely necessary."

Tears have slipped down Cisco's cheeks while he spoke. Harry stands, careful not to jostle little Horacio. Somehow, he just can't see that name sticking though. Maybe ‘Johnny’ will end up suiting him instead. Not that it isn’t a fine name - he just has a weird hunch.

He hands Cisco's child back to him. Cisco looks at him tearfully.

"It was purely physical," Harry deadpans.

"Yeah. Surprisingly, he never offered or pushed for more. Sometimes I think there might have been more to it - that he wished I loved him - and I felt guilty. Ultimately, I came to terms with it being his choice. And I’ll never know for sure."

"You just wanted to have sex with. Me?" Harry needs the clarification out loud. He can already feel his heart breaking.

He might not have much self worth but he won't stoop to settling for Cisco's body and nothing else. He wants his love and affection, or bust. HR might have been able to do it, if he did possess romantic feelings for Cisco. But Harry can’t fathom making that kind of compromise with himself. It would burn him from the inside out eventually, destroy him.

"Well. Asking HR to pretend to date me as you seemed like a little much, and could potentially get awkward."

Harry can't believe his ears. Numbly he repeats, "Date?"

"Do I have to spell it out?"

Harry starts to answer when Horacio whimpers. Cisco rocks him and hums to him, soothing him down from a full blown cry. Harry's heart aches. Cisco is amazing at fatherhood already. And it's such a precious sight. He wishes he had a camera.

HR is gone, but Harry will give Cisco and his child all the love he can muster in his doppelganger’s place. He knows HR would’ve been over the moon. And while he’s never particularly liked him, he can honor his memory.

He loves Cisco's mind, his intelligence, his sense of humor, his big and wholesome heart. Perhaps someday... Cisco will love him back.

"OK." Cisco turns to Harry once his son has calmed. "I'm in love with you. Easy enough, right?"

Harry is filled to the brim with unbridled joy at that statement. Such a laugh escapes him that he doesn’t immediately recognize the sound as his own. Cisco looks indignant for a second prior to Harry gently kissing him on the lips.

“Get some rest,” Harry murmurs. He kisses Cisco’s forehead.

“You’ve earned it. I love you.”

He says the last three words to both of them.

#harrisco #harriscofest2018 #my fic #past male pregnancy #trans Cisco #referenced childbirth #Mentions of sex #nothing graphic #past HR/Cisco #past unrequited love - implied #past 'canon' character death #couldn't think of a title :/

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thefutureisplywoodbikes · 6 years ago

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The “My Top Films of 2018″ post positively no-one has been crying out for

Hi friends, it’s been a while. I’ve been meaning to do a little monthly film round up / review thing for a while now (A suggested enterprise that I should say I have received specific encouragement for) but it felt a bit weird starting in the middle of the year so maybe consider this a warm up for that. I HATE spoilers so rarely read any kind of detailed review for anything I feel inclined to see until after I’ve watched it, so the usual format here will be a sentence whether you should bother to go see a film, a few films that might have a similar feel of characteristics if you’re still undecided or looking for more of the same, and finally I might give some extra details or specific opinion. If you’re a spoiler pedant like me you might want to skip this last part but I imagine most of you will be OK.

As what follows are what I consider the best films of the year, it should be a given that I suggest you seek them out and watch them. If you can’t be arsed with or don’t want the details and discussion, of which there’s a lot below, skip down; I’ll put the list near the bottom, along with a selection of other highlights that didn’t make the cut.

Anyway, onto the business at hand. To qualify for my long-list films had to be new releases that I’ve seen in a cinema this year. I’ve not counted any Netflix or Amazon fare, or any classics, some of which obviously are some of the best films I’ve seen in the cinema this year, but you shouldn’t really need specific encouragement to go see Rear Window, Once Upon a Time In The West or The Apartment if you get the chance. I did have a solid 10, but had forgotten something important, so you’re getting a top 11 and a best of the rest section instead.

11 (also 10)

- You Were Never Really Here (Lynne Ramsay)

- A Woman’s Life (Stéphane Brizé)

Two very different films share 10th place. You Were Never Really Here is a bruising tale of a damaged person not so much seeking redemption as just getting by. Set in contemporary New York, it features a superb central performance from Joachin Phoenix and is beautifully shot by Lynne Ramsay. Has a similarly feel, in terms of the editing at least, to her earlier film We Need To Talk About Kevin. There was a lot of talk about this being a modern day Taxi Driver which is an understandable comparison given the subject matter but might unfairly raise expectations if you’re not careful; it isn’t and it isn’t trying to be. It does however have a bit of a Paul Schrader feel to it so if you enjoyed First Reformed this would be worth a look. Currently on Amazon Prime, if you’re not boycotting Bezos.

A Woman’s Life I saw pretty much solely on the strength of how much I liked Stéphane Brizé’s previous film, The Measure of A Man which covers similar territory to I, Daniel Blake but with considerably more subtlety and sharper focus and is for me more successful for it. An adaptation of Guy de Maupassant first novel, Une Vie, the story as the title suggests, takes you through the life of a woman in 19th Century France. It‘s a slow, measured and intelligent film, sympathetic, naturalistic and moving and slyly shines light on the inherent cruelty of the pervasive limitations of the patriarchal society of the time. Not sure what to recommend for comparison since it was early in the year I saw it and I don’t think I’ve seen much else like it. If you’re a fan of Bresson give it a look. If you enjoyed Jacques Rivette’s The Nun maybe. If you liked Barry Lyndon but think it needs toning down in terms of flair and mood. Tolstoy was a big fan of the novel if that floats your boat, Mostly I’d say watch Measure of a Man and maybe track this down if you liked that.

Let The Corpses Tan (Hélène Cattet, Bruno Forzani)

From the Brussel-based French duo behind Amer and The Strange Colour of Your Body’s Tears, if you’ve seen either of their earlier films you’ll have some idea of what you’re getting here. It’s not going to be to everyone’s tastes; if you want a straightforward plot, narrative resolution or ultimately to fully understand what the fuck is going on, you’re in the wrong place, but if you like the sound of a pristinely crafted and gorgeously shot amalgamation of spaghetti western and Poliziotteschi aesthetics, this is likely very much up your street. If you liked Mandy as a film that is effectively an homage to the mood a variety of 80′s films, I think this does similar for a different period more smoothly. If you’re not sold by now I’m not sure what else to say but you can watch it on Amazon Prime if you’re curious.

Lucky (John Carroll Lynch)

On paper this shouldn’t be as good as it is. Not a lot really happens. It’s competently shot but not visually exceptional. It would seem to unashamedly be a vehicle to showcase the enduring charm of Harry Dean Stanton in a role that I would be astonished if i were to discovery it wasn’t written specifically for him. And yet it’s HUGELY endearing. It’s sweet without ever approaching being mawkish or saccharine. Stanton is an irascible, charming and poignant delight as a man doing his best to defiantly maintain his independence while coming to terms with his encroaching mortality . David Lynch is less convincing as a man bereft after his tortoise has escaped from the garden, yet still it all kinda works and has context. If you’ve liked Harry Dean Stanton in anything else, but particularly Paris, Texas. You’ll likely enjoy this. If you’re a Twin Peaks geek, liked The Straight Story, St Vincent (As in the 2014 Bill Murray movie), Mystery Train or maybe even On Golden Pond you’ll likely be OK too.

Filmworker (Tony Zierra)

You’d be forgiven for not knowing who Leon Vitali, the subject of this film, is. Some of you with better memories may place him as the actor who portrayed Lord Bullingdon in Barry Lyndon, likely because at some point you’ve looked him up after watching his superb performance wondering whatever happened to him. What you’re unlikely to be aware of (unless you’ve already seen this) is his immense contribution to, and sacrifices for, the work of Stanley Kubrick, an ongoing commitment that will likely persist until his dying breath.

In awe of the auteur on the set of Barry Lyndon, he effectively abandoned his acting career at the moment it was set to take off, to work with Kubrick in whatever capacity he could, over time becoming his most trusted, and woefully overworked, assistant. There is a sense that this a tale of one man being exploited in another man’s ruthless pursuit of their vision, which in part it is, but Vitali’s devotion is effectively religious and so he commands more respect and admiration than pity for the extent he has given over his life to his passion. If you like Kubrick, have seen and loved any on his films at the cinema, on video, DVD or blu-ray you have a responsibility to see this, because it is extremely likely that Leon is the man who has personally checked the prints and colour gradings to ensure they are precisely as they should be. It should also be a reminder that there are hundreds of thousands of others unsung who’ve had a hand in making the films you love.

If you’re a film geek, serious cineaste or fan of any of Kubrick films but particularly the last four (Barry Lyndon, The Shining, Full Metal Jacket, Eyes Wide Shut), you should see this.

Lady Bird (Greta Gerwig)

At heart Lady Bird is a simple story, very well told. It has suitable faith in its script to keep things simple and in doing so delivers 95 breezily delightful minutes of cinema. I saw this immediately after having endured The Shape of Water (Superficial, predictable, indulgent, emotionally-manipulative dross, with some insultingly shallow politics shoe-horned in to bolster its credibility) so the contrast may have inflated my enjoyment but after that, this was a breath of fresh air. It has a lean, clever script flawlessly delivered by it’s stellar cast, led by primarily by the equally excellent Saoirse Ronan and Laurie Metcalf but also featuring Timotheé Chalamet and the reliably remarkable / remarkably reliable Lucas Hedges in supporting roles. The result is a film full of well-rounded, flawed and relatable characters. The depiction of teenagers seem particularly sharp; the traumas of negotiating the trials of burgeoning adulthood are treated sympathetically but you’re also shown achingly absurd moments of pretension that’ll likely spark a pang of amused recognition in anyone over 20.

If you liked 20th Century Women or Greta Gerwig’s other cinematic outings (I don’t think I’ve actually seen many others but it stands to reason.) you’ll likely get a kick out of this not really sure what else compares suitably.

It’s a nice film. Give it a go if you haven’t already.

Phantom Thread (Paul Thomas Anderson)

The latest offering from Paul Thomas Anderson, Phantom Thread is a curious creature and a bit of departure for the director, stylistically at least. On the surface a dry tale of a celebrated English tailor discovering a new muse and lover and the shifting of power and negotiation of compromises as their relationship develops, I’d say the real meat here is in the subtexts but I don’t want to prejudice your viewing with my half-baked theorising so I’ll say no more. Visually sumptuous, pristinely photographed and with a deliciously acerbic and quotably witty script, you also get a trio of marvellous performances from Daniel Day-Lewis, Leslie Manville and Vicky Krieps in the lead roles. A wry treat for all who like seductive subtlety at a steady pace and one that’s sure to benefit from repeat viewing. (I’ve yet to rewatch myself but am keen to and in the course of writing this list I’ve been compelled to bump it up a few spots and suspect it may well have faired better if I had)

If you’re a PTA fan you’ve likely already seen this but if you need specific prompting I’d say it’s closest in spirit to The Master, but it’s still more idiosyncratic among his output than similar to the others. If you like the barbed charm of the writing of the films of the British New Wave, or Pinter’s script for Losey’s The Servant you'll also likely find this worth your time.

Climax (Gaspar Noé)

Despite it's place here, I have a hard time recommending Climax. Watching it was possibly the most queasily unnerving experience I've ever had in a cinema, which is entirely it's intent.

Following the events that unfold one snowy evening at an isolated rehearsal hall where a group of dancers having a final night party fall victim to an LSD-spiked sangria, what starts out as a mesmerising display of dancing skill and exuberance slowly shifts into a hellish, decadent descent as innermost fears and desires surface and are enacted.

The film is technically spectacular, largely composed of a single twisting shot that woozily drifts among the action and skilfully approximates the helpless intoxication of the characters. Prior to this the film opens with a series of interviews with the dancers, shown on a tv flanked by videos and books, the theme of which would appear to be transgression in its various forms. It's a simple, smart device that foreshadows events to come but also lays out the story's influences and inspirations. The overall result is the sense that experience you receive has been carefully and precisely crafted, something all films obviously aim to do but that this actually delivers, extraordinarily well. Even when things slow and drag in the last 20 minutes (which they undeniably do) you feel like you're being made to endure the comedown of the preceding proceedings. It's not going to be for everyone and I'm not sure the visceral unease of seeing this in the cinema will translate to small screen viewing, but it's a brilliant affecting piece of cinema for those prepared to brave it.

If you didn't like Enter The Void, you're probably not going to like this but if you did, you probably will. The content isn't necessarily especially graphic but there's a sense of callous disregard and cruelty that made for uneasy viewing for me at least, similar to the darker moments of Henry Portrait of a Serial Killer or Man Bites Dog. You probably know by now if you're gonna watch it or not, so let's move on.

Utøya: July 22 (Erik Poppe)

Not to be confused with the Paul Greengrass Netflix film (Which went into production a year later than this then stole it’s working title) Utøya: July 22 is the second film on this list to centrally feature an extended tracking shot. This one was shot in one interrupted take and, much like Climax, is a harrowing film elevated by the directorial decisions that informed and shaped its creation.

Unfolding in real time the film shares the experience of Kaya, a teenage girl attending the summer camp on the Norwegian island of Utøya during the 2011 terrorist attack there. It’s a heartbreaking watch. Less generous reviews suggest it to be manipulative, others, which I am obviously moreso inclined to agree with, feel that the films choices place the victims in the forefront of the story and in doing so highlights failings within the usual handling of such events on film and more broadly in the media, failings which, while I haven’t seen it, I have heard the aforementioned Netflix film is guilty of. While the characters in this film are fictional, their stories are based on the testimonies of survivors and survivors were heavily consulted both during the writing of the script and the filming. The terrorist is not named and is only shown once in the distance which, given the intention of his murderous assault was to draw attention to himself and his toxic political views, is very effective at both resisting unwitting complicity in advancing these aims and preventing the victims and the horror of their experiences from being shifted into peripheral significance. They are not merely a notorious individuals tragic statistics and they, or any other victim of mass murder, should never be allowed to be seen in such terms. This film has been painstakingly and thoughtfully constructed to honour them and the gravitas of their suffering and is intelligent and powerful film that deserves far greater attention.

It feels somewhat ridiculous to offer comparative suggestions for this one; it’s not an enjoyable viewing experience, so if you’re not already moved to watch it maybe you shouldn’t bother. If you’re still undecided this does feature perhaps the most effective and emotionally involving uses of the single shot proximal viewpoint, a technique employed in a number of titles of recent years (Birdman, Victoria, The Revenant, Gravity etc.) that I’ve seen. It something which Son of Saul was celebrated for, where the intent was similarly a claustrophobic immersion, but which, in that instance, I found somewhat distracting. This succeeded for me where Son of Saul did not.

Cold War (Pawel Pawlikowski)

I still haven’t seen Pawlikowski’s previous film Ida but the strength of esteem that it garnered led me to see this without knowing anything about it. (And if you really want to enjoy it, you should skip the rest of this and do the same. Actually you should do that anyway, because I likely create an unreasonable high expectation by the end of this.)

The film covers a love story as it unfolds and transforms over the space of 20 years under the shadow of the Cold War. At various points the romance is frustrated either by the ubiquitous demands and expectations of the Soviet state apparatus or by the lovers diverging fates negotiating it. Given the tale is loosely based on the story of his own parents, one would be forgiven for fearing this might be a melodramatic tale of predictably plucky triumph, but the nuance and complexity of the central relationship, challenged as it is by not only external forces but internal conflicts, has a suitable quantity of bitterness and disappointment to feel like a truthful portrayal. It’s refreshingly unsentimental, as is the depiction of life under totalitarian rule and in some ways this is as much a film about the potential for lives to be crushed by oppressive regimes as it is about loves ability to resist them.

Also of note; the film is gorgeous. The black and white photography is pristine throughout and subtly shifts with the films location. The soundtrack comprises Eastern European folk and 50s Jazz and, with music forming a central role in the plot, the scenes where it features most heavily stand out and are at times breathtaking. The acting too is great with Joanna Kulig proving a particularly enchanting screen presence. It’s a manifoldly beautiful film.

If you still need persuading (though you really shouldn’t, because by this stage I’m just over-egging the pudding) if you liked Ida obviously this’ll be up your street, if you’re a Tarkovsky fan in general you’ll likely appreciate some of the framing and pacing here but if your especially fond of Ivan’s Childhood (And if you’re not you probably should be) the look and feel of this should prove particularly appealing.

Shoplifters (Hirokazu Kore-eda)

It’s unlikely that I’m alone in placing this at the top of my list. I don’t think I’ve spoken to anyone who hasn’t liked this film. Most have loved it. This is very rare. In fact, if you haven’t yet seen this, don’t bother reading further, just go see it in the cinema while you still have the chance. (I don’t want to hear any shit about spoilers or whinging about missing it.) If you’ve seen any of Kore-eda’s other recent films (with the possible exception of The Third Murder) you will have had some idea of what to expect with this. He is a master of tender, low-key tales of everyday life and the drama contained within. Our Little Sister was my first encounter with his work and was my favourite film of 2016. It features the intertwining lives of three sisters who live with their grandmother and the half-sister they effectively adopt when their estranged father dies. It’s a simple, wonderfully uplifting film that unceremoniously shows you the progressing lives of a loving family in rural Japan. After The Storm looks at another family, this time in Tokyo and more fractured and dysfunctional but still observed with compassion and though flawed, prove deeply sympathetic and relatable. In Shoplifters we are again presented with a family, this time a gathering of humble misfits and miscreants predominantly bonded by solidarity in the face of poverty, hardship and neglect. Their love for each other is evident in their actions but as the film progresses it is brought into question by figures of authority and more broadly a society that though unwilling to help them when in need is more than prepared to judge and condemn them regardless of their circumstances.

This is both an overtly political film and a deeply philosophical one but fundamentally it’s an achingly sensitive and compassionate drama. It brings to light rarely discussed economic disparity in Japan and the difficulties of those struggling to get by. It examines what constitutes a family and questions the value of traditional familial and societal bonds when they don’t encompass a duty of care. It lead you to reflect on you own fortunes compassion and morality. And it does all of this simply by presenting you with a group of characters with complex stories. Acts that might be considered otherwise outrageous are given suitable context to leave you entirely capable of empathising with the decisions to undertake them.

A devastatingly moving and humane film, this is beautifully shot, scripted, edited and brilliantly performed by a hugely talented cast. An irrefutable masterpiece. Must watch.

Right, below is a recap of the list then below that will be a list of notable highlights that made the long-list, for those of you not already bored shitless

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OK, welcome back slackers. Here’s the list.

10. - You Were Never Really Here (Lynne Ramsay)

- A Woman’s Life (Stéphane Brizé)

9. Let The Corpses Tan (Hélène Cattet, Bruno Forzani)

8. Lucky (John Carroll Lynch)

7. Filmworker (Tony Zierra)

6. Lady Bird (Greta Gerwig)

5. Phantom Thread (Paul Thomas Anderson)

4. Climax (Gaspar Noé)

3. Utøya: July 22 (Erik Poppe)

2. Cold War (Pawel Pawlikowski)

1. Shoplifters (Hirokazu Kore-eda)

And now for the best of the rest. You should maybe try to watch these before reading the details too

The Rider (Chloé Zhao)

This was unquestionable beautiful and does an excellent job of showing the limitations of investing in an outmoded code of masculinity, in this instance that of the cowboy. The amateur cast effectively play versions of themselves in the thinly disguised the story of lead actor Brady Jandreau’s struggles to adjust after a severe rodeo injury curtails his career and hopes. Why it’s not in my top 10: This is a cinematic love letter to Brady and while it’s effective in display the depth of the directors affection for him and his, admittedly very endearing, family, it’s less so as a means to convince you to share it’s viewpoint if, like me, you don’t share Chloe Zhao’s unquestioning sympathy from the outset. Questions about animal welfare, the validity of cowboy traditions, practices and iconography in the modern world and whether that imported culture dominating life on a Lakota reservation can ever be anything but a toxic cul-de-sac, all go unasked and unanswered.

The Wild Pear Tree (Nuri Bilge Ceylan)

This probably should be in my top ten. It’s absolutely spectacular. Beautifully naturalistic and expansive in scope and ambition. One regular customer at the cinema where I work said it authentically encapsulates the experiences of everyday Turkish life and so if that sounds up your street and you have a spare three and a bit hours to invest this is richly rewarding watch.

Why it’s not in my top 10: It’s just soooo long. It’s 188 minutes but feels like longer, which I’d actually say is a good thing because it covers so much ground at such a measured pace you’re surprised when it’s over that you’ve experienced so much in such a, relatively, short space of time. But it’s still exhausting. While lengthy discussions work within the context of the film their inclusion teeters on the brink of indulgence and the main character, a youthful and arrogant would-be intellectual, is frankly a bit of a dick, and that’s a long time to spend in the company of someone you don’t necessarily like. So in essence, while this is a masterpiece, it is a demanding one, and it’s because I found the physical experience of watching this to be more challenging than either enjoyable or invigorating that it slipped into the runners-up. Once Upon A Time in Anatolia, which I rewatched earlier this year, manages to cover similar territory but still leave you enlivened so I was hoping this might do the same.

Leave No Trace (Debra Granik)

A well-paced, great looking and emotive little drama featuring exceptional central performance from Thomasin McKenzie and the dependably compelling Ben Foster as a father and daughter living on the margins of society in contemporary America. Comparisons with with the work of Kelly Reichardt seem justified.

Why it’s not in my top 10: It’s a great film, I just personally think I saw at least 10 better ones this year. You might feel otherwise. (But you’d still be wrong)

The Miseducation of Cameron Post

I found this to be really sweet and engaging and similarly effective to Lady Bird in giving dignity and truth to the voices of youth. It felt a bit like a modern day update of a John Hughes film (but with the startling misogyny and casual racism excised obviously)

Why it’s not in my top 10: It’s good, but not that good.

Marlina the Murderer In Four Acts

Indonesian. Feminist. Western.

What more do you need to hear. A great little film that deserves a wider audience.

Why it’s not in my top 10: You’ve got the gist of this by now surely?

A Fantastic Woman

I think this did a really good job in highlighting the various forms of conspicuous everyday cruelty that hinder the lives of trans women and more broadly the harmful prejudices that nestle within normative society. The film is far from perfect and is not without it’s justifiable criticism; I have heard it said that this represents a CIS gendered persons idea of what trans experience is like rather than the reality and it is true that the central character is pretty much entirely defined by her victimhood rather this being a more nuanced portrait. So, yes, it’s maybe more than a little melodramatic but the central performance of Daniela Vega is i think still suitably engrossing to warrant your attention.

Why it’s not in my top 10: and nor are the films below

Faces / Places (Agnès Varda, JR)

This was a really lovely film. I tend to overuse the word charming (You’ll likely notice a bunch of equally overused synonyms of it where I’ve attempted to avoid doing so above.) but it’s really apt here. This is a delightfully playful look at the collaboration and friendship of it’s creators, filmmaking legend Agnes Varda and photographer/muralist JR as they travel around France making work. And that pretty much it. It’s smart, fun and funny but mostly it’s nice. Refreshingly and unashamedly pleasant.

This was one of 3 Agnès Varda films I saw in the cinema this year and I’m deeply disappointed both that I didn’t catch more but also that I’m so late in being introduced to her work. The other two I saw were Cleo From 5 to 7, a truly stunning piece of work that effortlessly makes many of it’s French New Wave contemporaries look painfully austere, and One Sings, The Other Doesn’t, whose first 5 minutes alone are so deliciously, guilefully political as to make this, and discovering Varda’s films in general, one of my highlights of the year.

While the ship has sailed for the folks of Manchester to catch the Gleaning Truths season, the lucky folk of London still have a chance to catch them all and suitable time to plan as they’re all showing in early 2019 at the Prince Charles Cinema. I heartily recommend you do so (or at the very least see Cleo From 5 to 7 then see how you go) Link here.

Lastly I want to mention a trio of horror films that stood out this year.

Hereditary was hokey, divisive and derivative of a bunch of late 70′s horror but had a great cast, some surprising twists and I found it to be a great deal of fun. Others did not. The choice is yours.

Mandy was a more maniacally entertaining treat, again derivative but as it’s effectively an adoring pastiche of 80′s genre films it can’t be judged too harshly on those terms. I still think Let The Corpses Tan covers similar territory better, but this has some spectacular visuals, a superb soundtrack and a gloriously unhinged Nicholas Cage to keep you amused along the way.

The new Halloween marked an entertaining return to for the long-suffering franchise and, pleasingly, a box office success but what I found most interesting about it were the sly touches in the screenplay that suggest changes may be afoot in Hollywood. The key protagonists are all women, they’re surrounded by a parade of shitty men who show themselves to be either abusive, untrustworthy or impotent when the time comes to face up to the embodiment of senseless murderous misogyny, Michael Myers. There was a similar vibe in Widows, and with both it was encouraging to see politics being injected into successful mainstream offerings. Lets hope it persist.

Celebrated films I haven’t seen that may be notably absent above:

I’ve heard good things about both Wajib and 120 BPM but haven’t seen them, so obviously can’t comment on them. Also I haven’t got around to watching Cuarón’s Roma yet. Or Sweet Country. I missed that one too.

Alternative facts

In the interest of fairness and balance and the spirit of sharing here’s an alternative top 10 from my learned colleagues at HOME: https://homemcr.org/article/top-10-films-of-2018-ushers-choice/

(Just because their reviews are more thorough and better written, it doesn’t make them right)

And a 2018 highlight podcast if you’re really keen:

https://homemcr.org/media/the-home-film-podcast-special-2018-round-up/

Things I’m looking forward to seeing next year:

The Favourite looks deliciously vicious and entirely up my street so I can’t wait to see that. Green Book I very much like the look of too and is an intriguing shift for Peter Farrelly that I hope pays off. I also have high hopes for If Beale Street Could Talk, like the sound of Destroyer, the look of Vice and am intrigued by Burning. Anyway that’s more than enough for now. I’m gonna go do something else. So should you. See you in the new year.

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tony-luvv · 7 years ago

Text

(SuperIron) First Impressions

Prompt: Clark thinking back on the first time he met Tony Stark and just how wrong his guess was as to just who Tony was (arrogant, selfish, playboy, etc) and how that all changed little by little when he is forced to work with the avenger to stop a villain as per Batman’s request. He couldn’t help but smile at the man standing in front of him now, teary eyed as Clark slipped the ring onto his finger.

AN: this took for ever to write and it went one direction and then another but I finally did it. Thank You @raquel6354 for this prompt and sorry for the wait.

Ao3 and Fanfiction Links available

He knew his mother would be disappointed in him, and he tried. He really tried to not let the media influence him but for some reason, Tony Stark rubbed him the wrong way and got under his skin. Of course he never met the man, only saw him in passing when he was doing his work as a reporter or saw him on TV but for the most part he was basing his opinion off of gossip rags and it bothered him.

It wasn’t until Bruce and the Justice League that his opinions started to change.

“I don’t understand why we have to work with Mr. Stark.” Clark was not throwing an adult sized temper tantrum no matter what anyone said.

“Honestly Clark, I don’t understand what the problem is, Tony’s a good guy. Did he sleep with your girlfriend or something?” Bruce had his back turned, looking over some stuff while he prepared for Tony to come by their headquarters. That was another thing, why did Tony Stark know that Bruce Wayne is the Batman? The team had decided a while ago that it was easier to know one another’s identities for missions (mostly so they didn’t have to sit in costume and act stupid around one another all the time). Otherwise the Justice League is pretty tight about keeping their identities under wraps. But when Bruce told him about this meeting with Stark regarding collaborations among the Justice League and the Avengers he made no move to protect his identity.

Well now it seemed he was going to get some answers.

Loud hulking footsteps were coming from the entrance to the bat cave. Bruce turned away from the computers and smiled at the Iron Man armor walking towards them. The mask looked pretty intimidating with its blank metal stare. When Iron Man was about four steps from a casually dressed Bruce and a fully decked out Superman the armor open up and Tony Stark stepped out dressed as casually as Bruce. It was different from how the man normally looked out in public. Instead of Armani suits that cost more than his life savings and expensive designer shades he had on some well-worn jeans and a long sleeve tee.

“Batsy!” Stark stopped in front of Bruce and thrust out his hand. From where he was standing off to the side and slightly behind Bruce he didn’t see his teammate’s reaction but he did reach out for the other’s hand. Tony was smiling and shaking the others hand when suddenly Bruce tugged him forward into a bear hug. “Brucey-kins nooooo! You’re messing up my image.” He grumbled and attempted to push himself away from the other man who seemed to be smothering him.

Clark was speechless, he never thought of his teammate as affectionate. Bruce just let of this vibe that screamed Don’t Touch and he always seemed so serious that seeing him smother the Avenger’s billionaire like this was downright strange.

It took a lot out of Clark to keep his jaw from hitting the floor at this moment, watching Tony pout as Bruce rocked and petted his head in the comforts of the taller man’s arms. “Are you done yet?”

“No.” Clark honestly didn’t know if he should leave the room or not, Bruce was rubbing his face in Tony’s soft hair and making happy sounds. Footsteps were approaching and Clark had to drag his gaze away to see who it might be.

Alfred was entering the cave, drinks set on his serving tray. “Master Wayne please release Anthony, you’re upsetting him.” Bruce grunted but didn’t make any moves to let go. “Don’t forget you have another guest present and Anthony did come for other reasons than getting smothered to death.”

“Right!” Bruce allowed Stark a bit of leeway but kept an arm around his shoulders as he turned them to face him. “Superman, Iron Man. Tony, Superman.”

“Hey man, I’m normally cooler than this but it’s really nice to meet you. Thanks for all you done for the world and keeping this idiot safe.” Clark was thrown by how genuine the guy was with him. He reached out for the hand Tony was offering him and returned the sentiment.

Now that greetings were out the way they all went to gather around the meeting table and set to work. Again he was left shocked on the side lines as Bruce and Stark got to work hashing out the collaboration details. Working on guidelines that calls for interference or borderlines for what each team considered their jurisdiction. Often enough the genius would ask him for his input or if he had any arguments towards his ideas. For the most part Tony Stark was considerate and professional about their work as superheroes.

He even found himself enjoying the meeting, him and Bruce normally butted heads on a lot of things which made problem solving a bit difficult and meetings were a drag to deal with. But Tony made it different somehow, they bantered but casually, shooting ideas around the three of them and making suggestions that would benefit everyone involved. Tony took into account everyone’s fighting styles and their strengths and try to pair them up according to those traits. Overall he learned a lot about team dynamics and was actually a little excited about this collaboration effort.

Maybe he did judge the man a little too quickly.

Three months later and things were going great. The Justice League and Avengers had a few sit down meetings where the teams got to meet the other’s they’d be working with and ran a few drills together. They learned that even though Aqua Man and Thor got along swimmingly, they didn’t work well together when it came to combat. Particularly their fighting styles, their unique powers hindering instead of helping one another.

Wonder Woman and the Hulk were a power house team that could take down any army by themselves, plus Hulk thought strong lady’s hair was super soft and Wonder Woman adored Hulk. Both came to an agreement that Wanda needed more training with her newly acquired powers before she took on some bigger missions. Vision worked well with everyone but volunteered to stand by until he two could learn more about his powers.

Steve and Wonder Woman didn’t do well together on the field, and neither did Clint and Clark so they worked around it.

A few missions came up where they brought in some help from the other team depending on who was available and who needed the help but for the most part everything was going fine.

And then it wasn’t.

The people weren’t happy. Super powered individuals running around doing as they pleased wasn’t sitting well with the governments. Bruce and Clark both knew this was an issue. It’s how they met. People were afraid of Superman and wanted him to face the courts. But it seemed as though America was the loudest to voice their questions or complaints. While the Justice League was off the radar in Superman’s hide out, the Accords were being served to the Avengers front door.

And for most we know how that turned out.

The League had been sitting around Superman’s hideout or as Aquaman liked to call it, The Fortress of Solitude, when he heard it. Zoning out of the meeting and focusing on his super hearing he pushed all the unnecessary chatter away. Using all his concentration on focusing on that voice, Stark’s voice.

“-se……” There was a hitch in his voice, was he hurt? In distress? He was starting to wor – “…Bruce, somebody. Help me.” He was–he was sobbing.

“Bruce!” He quickly turned to the other man, completely cutting off the conversation the others were still engaged in.

“Bruucee? FRI-FRIDAY? Please…” another broken sob.

“Clark what’s–”

“We need to go, it’s Tony.

“WHAT!?” Bruce jumped from his chair, marching over to the alien. “What’s going on?”

“I can hear him, he’s calling your name.”

“Take me to him. Take me to him now.”

Diana stood from the table, “I’ll follow in the jet. Just keep your tracker on you.” Everyone quickly jumped into action. Clark and Bruce took off to put their gear on before taking off. Diana and Arthur following behind them in the jet, Arthur coming along in case for any reason they might need back up. Barry and Victor staying in the lair on standby and to prep medical (you never know with these kinds of things).

Bruce and Clark arrived first to an abandoned base, stranded in the middle of a snowy tundra. The second his feet hit the ground Bruce was racing into the base, “TONY! TONY WHERE ARE YOU?” His shouting echoed and bounced around in the empty concrete walls. Clark was following behind Bruce when they came across these pods with five people sitting in them. Bullets shot into their skulls and a single screen resting in the middle of the room, static running on the screen.

“TONY! DAMN IT TONY ANSWER ME!” He took off again. Clark took another look around the room, “TONY OH MY GOD. CLARK!” Running off in the direction Bruce went he ran down a corridor and then turned the corner into an open room.

His breath caught in his throat, tucked in the corner suit crumpled and broken was Tony. Left arm curled in tight, right had free of armor and holding his head down, sobs wracking his entire frame. Bruce was crouching down next to him, trying to get the other man’s attention. It took a little but it seemed Bruce finally got through to him.

“Come on Tony, please look at me.” Finally Tony peaked up at him, he looked awful. A bruise consumed his right eye, blood trailing down his face from the gash on his left temple and busted nose, mixing with the tears streaming out of his eyes. Bruce was mask free, inching closer to his friend. “Tony…”

Tony’s eyes finally started to get some focus and fixed themselves onto Bruce. For a moment everything was still, Bruce was holding his breath, waiting for Tony to react. “Bru-” the name got caught in his throat but it must have been what the man needed because he was quickly on top of the other man. Hands never stopping as they ran over the other. Checking him for injuries while trying to pull him close for a hug. “Bruce, you-you’re here. Wha-Ah! Ow ow oww.”

“Shit, Tony, fuck. I’m sorry. You’re hurt. Where? Is it your arm? Jesus. What happened!? Tony, who did this? I’ll-” Bruce was bouncing between emotions, nervous concern, guilt, then he was back to being worried. When he started asking the real questions his voice dropped into something dark.

“Bruce. I wanna go home…. Please.”

After that everything seemed to go in a blur. Carefully they worked together to remove the disabled armor from Tony except for the part wrapped around his broken left arm. Bruce asked him to get Tony to the jet while he gathered the suit remains. As carefully as he could he lifted Tony into his arms, said man was quite aside from a hitch in his breath. His right arm clung to his neck, face hidden in his shoulder.

They made their way through the base and outside to the jet where Diana had just landed. She was lowering the ramp when she noticed Tony in her arms.

“Superman, does he need medical.” Diana’s face was coated in concern, you could tell she wanted to check on the man that had become a friend to all of them over the past few months.

“I’d gather the supplies, Bruce is going to want to take a look.” Diana nodded and then briskly climbed back into the jet. He looked down at Tony, the man hadn’t moved since he picked him up. He was trying to figure out if the man was still conscious when the breeze picked up and caused the man to shiver. Not wanting Stark to get sick on top of everything else that’s happened to him Clark quickly carried him inside. Arthur was standing in the arch way to the cockpit, eyes questioning but not pressing for answers.

Suddenly Bruce was boarding the jet and dropping the broken armor off to the side. His strides brought him quickly to Clark who handed over the injured man. Despite what pain he must be in Tony was quick to reach for Bruce and settle in his arms. Bruce sat against the wall in one of the seats tucked off to the side, Tony securely in his arms. For a moment he took a second to just sit a breath, knowing Tony was alive and safe now in his arms.

The next month was crazy, if Bruce wasn’t with Tony he was in the in the gym or in the streets, fighting off his aggression. Clark found himself spending more and more time with the genius. Tony didn’t like being alone after what happened. His nightmares were awful and sometimes it got to be too much for Bruce. Seeing his friend in this condition and not having been there to prevent it, Bruce really started to beat himself up. So Clark stepped in, he cared for Tony, not as deeply as Bruce (he didn’t think anyone would top Bruce’s love for Tony) but enough that he would lay in bed curled around the genius while Bruce terrorized the villains of Gotham.

With most of the Avenger’s on the run from the Accords, the Justice League with Batman and Wonder Woman in the lead took on the responsibility they had so foolishly hid from. While Tony was healing, Bruce, as Batman, worked hand in hand with the Accords council, attempting to navigate the laws in place and fix them to help, guide and protect the Super Hero community while also taking the people into account. Diana there and helping him through it all.

Of course Bruce was still there for Tony but without the outlet of Steve Rogers face to take his aggressions out on he wasn’t being much help to the other man.

But Clark didn’t mind, sitting with Tony watching movies and making him coffee didn’t bother him. When Tony got quiet Clark would talking about the story he was working on, making jokes on how egotistical he must be to write stories on himself.

When this would happen Tony would make his way closer to him on the couch, until he was basically curled under his arm, looking down at his notes with him.

The longer Clark and Tony spent together, the less his nightmares haunted him. Yes they still happened but Clark’s presence eased his mind, cutting back their frequency.

It had been three and a half months since they found Tony in Siberia when he asked to go to the compound.

“Clark.” Said man looked up from where he was making them sandwiches at the breakfast bar. It was lunchtime and it was just him and Tony today. Bruce caught in meetings, Diana off doing what she did, and Clark had the day off. Tony was sat across for him in one of the bar stools, watching him make ham and cheese sandwiches.

“Yes Tony?”

“Will you go with me to the compound?” Clark was surprised, since they got back Tony had been avoiding all things Avengers related. Only accepting calls from Rhodes and checking on his braces, making sure they were helping him. He would text with Vision but never accepting his calls, his voice got to be too much sometimes. Happy was monitoring some Parker kid for him, sending him daily reports even though Tony hacked his phone so he could see all the messages Parker sent Happy.

“Only if you want me to,” he waited, Tony nodded a quiet I do whispered, “okay then. When would you like to go?”

“Do you have time this weekend?” He was almost timed, the way he asked.

“This weekend is perfect, I’m all yours.” Clark didn’t miss the little smile that formed on Tony’s face, nor did he miss the way it made his heart flutter.

Clark drove them, Tony’s arm is still casted and he was content to sit in the passenger seat and watch the scenery. When they pull up to the building it’s weird. Clark would relate that experience to pulling up to a haunted house. It’s eerily quiet. The breeze is nearly none existent. The building big but empty, the Parker kid never lived here from what Clark could understand. Rhodes was staying somewhere else while he was going through physical therapy, and Tony had told him not to long ago that Vision was with Pepper. Educating himself while traveling with the CEO, helping her out when he was able too.

Clark gave it a moment, silently watching Tony take in the building and process whatever was going through that head of his. Taking his time, he climbed out of the car they borrowed from Bruce, walking around to the other side he opened Tony’s door. “You ready?”

Tony closed his eyes, probably burning the image into his mind before sighed. Climbing out of the car he stood beside Clark who closed the door for him. Both men looking at the building like it would eat them alive and spit their bones out. Clark was so caught in the moment he almost startled when Tony grabbed his hand, he looked to the other but Tony continued to look straight ahead, “Let’s go.”

Together, hand in hand they entered the building, walking the empty halls. A fine layer of dust had started to appear but there was still things lying around, showing that a team once resided here. Sam’s running shoes by the door, Wanda’s jacket laying there on the back of the couch. Natasha’s weapons everywhere and Vision’s recipe book still open to whatever he was ready to try cooking that day Ross came to their doorstep.

Clark and Tony took it all in, walking passed it all until they got to the hole in the floor. The one Wanda created using Vision as nothing more than a tool. Tony’s hand squeezed his own. “I’m selling the building, handing it over to the accords.”

“I think that’s a good idea, it’s not your job or responsibility to take care of it.”

Tony looked at him, smiling, and “Thank you.” Clark smiled back, giving their connected hands a light squeeze. He leaned forward, projecting his movements and allowing Tony every chance to move away. When he didn’t, Clark leaned in those final few inches and kissed him.

“You’re welcome.” He stayed close, taking in those beautiful brown eyes that he so greatly misjudged all those months back. Tony was nothing like he pictured, yes he put up a display to the general public, but he had too. Seeing the way he was beaten and let behind, hurt by his team. It was a shield, to protect himself, he saw the difference now. When he would go out and act a certain way for the crowd but stand there and fake pout when Bruce smothered him.

How he handled the press, saying everything that was needed to protect himself while giving them what they wanted. It was different from seeing him in an interview versus the man that encouraged the team to work through issues in meetings and work through every opinion. He, like many, had been blinded by what Tony wanted the people to see. If he weren’t part of the Justice League he would still be living under the notion that Tony Stark was just some arrogant billionaire playing at being a super hero to boost his ego. He would have missed the amazing man he is. The one whole loves his friends with all his being. The man that works like a leader but is treated like an add on. A man that has been wronged left and right so many times but still finds the strength to get up and help others, even though they’ve never given him a reason to do so.

And Clark loved him. He only hopes he can do right by Tony and maybe one day be worthy of being loved back. But for now, they’ll take it one day at a time. “Come on, let’s wrap this up, this place gives me the creeps.”

Tony laughed, soft and sweet as Clark started dragging him away, “Yeah, okay. Let’s go home.” Clark’s heart swelled, hearing Tony say that. He was ready to say the hell with it, pick Tony up and fly out of their but a sudden tug on his hand stopped him in his tracks. He looked back at Tony who was looking across the room, “There’s a box.” Clark followed his eyes. Across the room, on the floor was a box that sat innocently on the ground outside Tony’s office door. Quickly using his x-ray vision he looked inside the box, a paper and phone. Nothing dangerous and he told Tony such.

For the first time since they exited the car, Tony dropped his hand in order to go investigate the box. “There’s no return address.” He flipped the box over, inspecting it. “Help me open it?” With his cast, Tony wasn’t able to pry the box open so Clark quickly came over and opened it for him. Just like he saw, there was a paper and old flip phone in the box. He gave Tony the letter without much thought and grabbed the phone, looking it over and opening it up. When he looked up Tony’s hands were shaking.

“Tony, what’s wrong? What’s it say?”

“It’s from Steve.” Tony’s voice was empty, no emotion. The only reaction being the subtle shake of his hands where they held the letter. Clark was going to say more, turning to Tony, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say but they were interrupted. Almost like a summoning, the phone rang, an old basic ring tone and the screen lighting up. Steve flashed on the screen. It rang, the sound echoing around the empty room as it blared with noise. So badly did Clark want to answer the question, demand answers of Rogers. Ask him what nerve he had to do this. But that option was taken from him.

On the fifth ring Tony snapped, with his good hand, Tony snatched the ringing device from his hand. Without another thought, he turned, pulling his arm back he threw the phone as hard as he could. Watching the device fly into the wall, and break into pieces, Clark watched. Tony was panting, the rage coursing through him making him look as though he was vibrating.

“FUCK YOU!” He screamed at the broken phone, he dropped the letter. Letting it fall to the ground as he turned and walked away. Presumably back to the car. Clark bent down, picking up the letter and reading it. He too felt rage build the longer he read the words on the page. This wasn’t an apology, it was bullshit.

“The Avengers are yours, maybe more so than mine.” WHAT AVENGERS!? Rhodes was in therapy, Vision is still learning to be human. Who’s that leave? T’Challa and Spider-Man were never made members, Thor and Banner have been MIA since after Ultron was dealt with. Everyone else is with Rogers.

“My faith is in the people, I guess.” You mean the people that listen to you right? Because the people of the world are afraid of you. The letter continued, more bullshit that Clark couldn’t believe he thought was needed to be said. Before he knew it, his eyes were glowing and he was burning the remains of the letter. Tony didn’t need that, speaking of…

He ran outside, looking for the other man when he finally turned and saw him. He was crouched low against the building, head in his arms. “Tony …”

“Fuck him! Fuck him and his half ass apology. FUCK!” Clark got his good arm loose, grabbing it he pulled him up and into his arms. Tony immediately changed his hold so he could wrap his arms around Clark’s neck. In return Clark wrapped his arms securely around Tony’s waist, allowing the shorter man to hide his damp face in his chest.

While Tony breathed, attempting to calm himself down, Clark gently lifted them into the air. The hovered over the ground and when Tony didn’t make any protests, even though it was obvious he feet were literally no longer touching to ground he continued up. He brought them higher, clearing the roof of the compound and high above the trees that surrounded it. They were a good thirty feet above the compound when he stopped. Leaving them suspended above the ground a good three to four stories up.

“Tony, no matter what they say or what they do, I will always be here to lift you up.”

A laugh punched out of Tony, it was sad and weak but it was still a laugh. “You know,” he brought his good arm down to whip at his face, “most people would mean that theoretically, not literally.” Now he was leaning far enough back that they could see each other. Tony’s eyes were red and wet, eye lashes clumping together from the tears that were drying on his cheeks.

“Well I’m different.” He smiled, gazing down at Tony as he laughed at him. They were going to be okay.

A year and a half had nearly passed since that day. The Rogue Avengers were still Rogue, the Justice League was a united front with Iron Man. Every day super heroes and super villains were coming out of the works.

But today, today was about them. Today was Tony Stark and Clark Kent’s wedding day. It was a beautiful event, private with only friends and family. A guest list that remained under a hundred people. Clark stood at the altar, suit sharp. Diana stood tall as his best woman, while the other Justice members stood in line behind her as his grooms men. Minus Bruce, who was walking Tony down the aisle like a proud papa bear. Barely holding himself back from crying. Rhodes stood as Tony’s best man, Pepper, Happy and Vision in line behind him.

Parker and his Aunt were among the guests in the crowd, along with his mother. The warm spring day was beautiful as they read their vows.

Tony was staring up at him, talking about how Clark had been the rock he needed when times were hard. Clark listened, smiling the whole time, “… but the moment I knew I loved you and wanted to spend the rest of my life with you was when you told me you would always be there to lift me up. Clark Kent, I promise to love and hold you for the rest of my days, as long as you continue to lift me up.”

Teary eyed, Clark gave his vow. Explaining how like so many others, he judged you without really knowing you. That he was blessed the moment you stepped out of that Iron Man armor and let Bruce ruin your image by smothering you like the mother hen he is. The crowd laughed along while Bruce blew rather dramatically into a tissue. Alfred, rubbing his back with resignation. “Since that day I’ve only found myself falling more and more in love with you. I promise you, I will lift you as high as the heavens as long as you promise to love me like I love you.”

The priest went through the rest of the ceremony and then they were slipping matching wedding bands onto their fingers.

“You may now kiss the groom.” The cheers of their friends and family was nothing compared to the love they poured into that kiss. But that one kiss was just a promise of more.

#luvvswrittng #superiron #clark kent x tony stark #first impressions #prompt fill #prompt me #this is long #4k words #plus #bruce is a mama bear #bruce wayne and tony stark friendship #justice league and avengers #post cacw #ignores infinity war #not a fix it for avengers #submission

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spaztronautwriter · 7 years ago

Text

The Proposal (an Olicity fic)

Summary: When Felicity Smoak finds herself in a bind, she enlists the help of her assistant Oliver Dearden to help her keep her from being deported and losing her job. The problem is, in order to do so, they kind of have to get married...

A/N: I'm so close to finishing the next chapter of The Donor I can taste it, but I figured I'd post this in the meantime. I've literally had this sitting in my Google docs since August 2016. It was originally one fairly large first chapter that I've broken down into three. After these three chapters are posted I don't know when the next update will be, but I will circle back to it. Promise :)

Read on AO3

###

Felicity Smoak ignored the burning of her muscles, pushing herself harder as early morning sun began to bathe the living room in its pinkish-yellow glow. The mechanical sounds of the elliptical created a harsh juxtaposition to the sunrise outside the floor to ceiling windows of her apartment. She hated cardio, but it was a moment of peace at the start of what would no doubt be a very busy day. A moment to herself.

Felicity wasn't the type of woman who got many moments to herself. She took what she could get, but, honestly, she liked it that way. She was career-oriented and rarely had time for anything—or anyone—outside of work. Her mother had never understood. "That's all you do is work," she'd argue. "Work, work, work, work, work, work, work." But that's just who Felicity was. It's who she'd always been. Since college, since... Cooper. She'd turned to work to keep her busy and, well it made her happy, she enjoyed it. Why wouldn't she? Work was a constant, it was always there for her, unlike many of the people in her life. And Felicity was good at it. Her recent promotion to Vice President of Palmer Tech had won her a spot on a 30 under 30 list. She was a well respected genius in her field who was currently dominating a very testosterone rich environment and she was happy.

Felicity quickly finished up on the elliptical and headed for the shower. She had plenty of time before work, but she wanted to get there early. Today was an important day, and she was, after all, a busy woman.

###

She’d no sooner stepped off the elevator onto the executive floor, than her assistant was handing her a cup of coffee. It was a to-go cup from her favorite coffee shop and she took a long sip before reaching for the files he was holding.

“Are these the reports from R&D?” she asked, heels rapping on the tile as she moved quickly towards her office.

Oliver pulled the door open for her, following her inside. “Yes. And the latest Gideon update—the one you asked for—is on top.”

Felicity nodded, dropping the folders onto her desk and taking another sip of coffee. She placed it on the desk, followed by her bag. The folders from last night’s paperwork joined today’s folders on her desk, then she pulled out her tablet and sat down to get to work. That’s when she noticed a loopy, flowing script on the side of her coffee cup. She picked it up, looking at the message.

"Who is Carrie Cutter and why does she want me to call her?" she asked, glancing up at her assistant.

Oliver actually blushed. "Sorry," he said ducking his head. "She must have thought that one was mine."

"Would you like me to save it for you?" she asked, with a teasing smile.

"No. Thank you," he laughed with a roll of his eyes.

He always did that when women hit on him. And they hit on him a lot. Whether they were out to lunch or in the middle of a meeting, women—some single, some not so single—always found an opportunity to flirt with her assistant. Felicity had gotten used to it by now. The man was gorgeous. She couldn't exactly blame them.

"Did you call Kord's assistant? Whatshername? The one with the... you know, the ugly hands?" Felicity asked, sorting the paperwork she'd gotten done last night into a pile for Oliver to take.

"Taiana," Oliver said. "Yes, I called her. Kord is coming in at 1:30pm and I've got lunch from the food truck you like being delivered. Also your immigration lawyer called, he said he really needs you to—"

"I'll get back to him," Felicity dismissed, already pulling up her notes for the Kord meeting on her tablet. "I added a few points I'd like included in the presentation. I sent them to you last night, so please make sure they're in there. We need this meeting to go well."

"I know and it will. And when it does..." Oliver drawled, circling her desk to pick up the stack of folders that now needed filing, "will you look into Curtis Holt's powercell project again?" "Oliver," she sighed. He was a good assistant and she considered him her friend, but his obsession with Curtis's side project, a battery that could theoretically store enough energy to power an entire city block for five years, was testing her patience. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the idea—she thought it was incredible—but it was a high risk project that the company just didn’t have the money to fund at the moment. "You know I can't just okay a project like that. It's expensive and time consuming. Curtis is working on other things..." "Ms. Smoak, the benefits of something like that... Have you even read his proposal, really read it?" He turned to a small filing cabinet behind her desk and began to open it. "Oliver," she snapped. She didn't have time for this. Not today. "Benefits or not, the answer is no. Maybe in the future, but not right now." It was like he deflated, his shoulders slumping, and he shook his head. "Fine. Do you need anything else, Ms. Smoak?" With a shake of her head, she looked away as Oliver turned to leave. She felt awful about always turning down his ideas. Since he'd started working for her she'd realized that Oliver wasn't just an assistant. She honestly didn't know how he'd even gotten that job. Oliver Dearden seemed to be better suited for the board room than his small office in the cubicle outside of her's. He was charismatic and charming, a hard worker who loved big ideas. He was always pulling projects he thought would benefit not only the company, but the world. Unfortunately, most of Oliver's projects—like Curtis' powercell—required money and attention the company just couldn't spare right now. Maybe if they got this joint venture with Kord locked down...

Felicity shook her head. She couldn't make promises to Oliver, even in her own head. She was the Vice President of a struggling company. She had to be realistic, and with their budget… They were just lucky they weren't at the point where layoffs were necessary.

After an hour and a half of reading over project proposals, most of which would never see the light of day, she decided to head down to Barry's lab to see where he, Caitlin and Cisco were at on their Gideon interface. It was a huge aspect of this Kord project, and the more she knew about its status the better.

Just as she was getting up Oliver's voice rang through her intercom.

"Ms. Smoak, Mr. Palmer would like to see you in the conference room in ten minutes."

"Of course," she said, taking a moment to gather all of her notes for the Kord meeting. She assumed Ray wanted to meet to go over all of the last minute details. This meeting was only the first of many, but it was important it all go according to plan.

When she stepped out of her office Oliver was on the phone, so she gave him a brief smile before turning to leave.

"I'll try, Thea," he sighed. "It's the best I can do. Fine. Bye." She heard him stand up and start to follow her. "Ms. Smoak?" "Yes, Oliver?" she said, turning to see him matching her pace as they headed for the conference room.

"It's my sister's birthday this weekend."

"This weekend?" she asked, coming to a stop. "No! Not this weekend."

"Well," Oliver deadpanned, "I can't exactly stop her birthday from being this weekend."

"Oliver, no. This meeting with Kord is preliminary. We're going to be working all weekend to have everything sorted out for the meeting with the board next week. You know that."

"I do," Oliver said, "but it's also my sister's twentieth birthday. Let me take Friday afternoon and Saturday and I'll be back Sunday to—" "No!" Felicity said again, starting to panic. "Oliver, I need you on this. You know I don't trust anyone else." Oliver closed his eyes for a moment and when he glanced back at her it was with annoyance. "Why can't Palmer help you? It's his company." Felicity scowled. "Ray is helping. He'll be here all weekend, too." "Oh, so what? I'm just here to fetch you two things while you awkwardly flirt with one another?" Oliver grumbled. "That is so not what is happening," Felicity said. "Ray and I do not—" "Don't finish that sentence if it's going to be a lie," Oliver said, raising one hand in front of him. "And it's fine. I'll just disappoint my sister on her birthday. No big deal." He shrugged. "At least it gets me out of seeing my parents." "There you go. There's always a silver lining. Besides you can make it up to her after this deal is done." Felicity smiled thinly, ignoring his tone and trying not to feel too bad about forcing him to work. She needed him, it was for the good of the company. With his help, this joint venture might go smoothly, and if it did it could mean saving a lot of jobs in the long run. Oliver missing one birthday wasn't that big a sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.

They stopped in front of the conference room doors. Felicity did a mental check of the rest of her afternoon and said, "I don't know how long this will take, but let me know if it's getting close to 1:00pm or if anything major happens or—"

"Felicity," Oliver said, a small smile tugging at his lips. He almost never called her by her first name, and Felicity found herself wishing that he would. "We've got this. Go study up with Palmer and then you two can wow Kord this afternoon."

Felicity gave him a quick smile, which he returned with a wink, before she pushed through the conference room doors.

#olicity fanfiction #olicity fanfic #olicity au #the proposal (an olicity fic)

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mosylufanfic · 7 years ago

Note

I request prompt 22nd; Happy birthday month!

Thank you! Also requested by a nonny, although you might see another reply for that, nonny! I keep thinking these are going to be short and cute and I look up four pages later and go, “. . . shit.”

Best Laid Plans

Caitlin heaved a sigh, dropped her head back, and told the ceiling, "I'm trying very hard not to see all this as a metaphor for my life."

The smoke alarm shrieked. The lasagna that she'd worked on all afternoon was a scorched-black lump. Her pan was probably ruined too.

She sniffed and wiped away tears. "It's just a lasagna," she scolded herself.

But it wasn't, and she knew it. The lasagna had been a single but critical cog in a carefully crafted plan, and now it was trash.

Cisco was due any minute, and she was still in her robe, with no makeup and her hair barely blow-dried. Her main dish was completely ruined and there was no time to throw together something new.

She sniffed again and then pulled a chair over and climbed up on it to turn off the smoke alarm. When it had been silenced, with a last surprised tweet, she rested her head against the top of the door frame and mourned briefly for her ruined evening, which was supposed to end with her in Cisco's arms.

Sometimes it seemed like her dating life since Ronnie's death had been nothing but trying to feel more than she did, or disastrous breakups. Or both. Often both. But Cisco had always had a place in her heart. Sometime after he'd first gotten together with Cynthia, she'd realized that the place he occupied had transformed from platonic to romantic without her noticing.

She'd told herself then that it was hopeless. He had a girlfriend, one he was madly in love with. She'd hated herself for the ember of hope that had blossomed when he'd told her that they'd broken up. "Too different," he'd said, sagging in her comfy armchair with his third or fourth stiff drink. "We love each other, but we don't want the same things. And the things we want - they’re kind of all or nothing."

"I'm sorry," she'd said, and gotten more ice cream out of the freezer.

She'd counseled herself to wait, to let him heal, to watch for signs that he was ready to risk his heart again.

In the past month, she'd been seeing those signs, and more, signs that he might be already willing to risk it with her. Casual touches that lingered longer than usual. Banter that leaned toward flirtation. Small, thoughtful gestures, that wouldn't have seemed out of place in Cisco's history of thoughtful gestures except for the smiles he gave her along with the cup of tea he brought to her desk, or the candy bar he picked up when he was out. Long text conversations about nothing in the middle of the night.

But if they were ever going to be anything more than text buddies, one of them was going to have to move things along, and she'd decided it was going to be her. Except that her meticulous plan had gone off the rails the moment she turned on her hair-dryer and missed hearing the over timer go off.

She looked over and saw the wine on the counter. She hopped off the chair, grabbed a corkscrew, jammed it into the cork, and worked it out of the bottle with a pop. Without bothering with a glass, she took a deep chug straight out of the bottle.

It was a nice red wine, and it would have been really nice with her burned lasagna.

She was considering another chug when the doorbell rang. With a gasp, she stuck the bottle back on the counter and bolted for the door.

"Hey - what burned?" were the first words out of his mouth when she opened it.

"Lasagna," she said, letting him in. "I was drying my hair and I didn't hear the buzzer."

"Awww," he said. "I’ve been there. Sorry." He gave her a quick hug and she told herself to let go when he did, not to cling to him, not to snuggle close and bask in the smell of his shampoo and the feel of his body against hers. "You didn't have to make dinner. I told you I'd bring something over."

"I wanted to," she said. "But I screwed it up."

He squeezed her upper arms to comfort. "Look," he said. "Why don't I go get a pizza? Will that work with the rest of your menu?"

"Sure," she sighed. "Go for it."

"Be right back," he said, and opened up a breach in the middle of her entryway.

When it sucked itself closed, she went back into her bedroom to put on clothes. Half her closet was scattered over her bed - pretty ruffled skirts that showed off her legs, low cut tops that showed off her decolletage, dresses in a fine-gauge knit that clung to her curves. They'd all seemed not quite perfect for the intimate dinner she'd had planned.

They definitely wouldn't work over pizza.

She put on a soft, drapey t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants, then pulled her hair into a ponytail and put on basic makeup. She started to put on a simple, sheer pink lipstick, then paused, wiped it off, and selected a redder shade.

Even if she couldn't seduce him tonight like she'd planned, that was no reason not to make him think about her lips if she had the chance.

She shut her bedroom door behind her and went to see what else could be salvaged.

By the time he knocked again, she was feeling more cheerful. Yes, the charred lasagna was occupying a place of dishonor on the back of her stove, but that wasn’t the only thing she’d prepared. She did swap out her table settings, though. Thick-crusted, cheesy, greasy pizza just didn't go with her fine china. She let him in with a smile.

"All right," Cisco said, bearing a heavenly-smelling cardboard box toward her table and setting it down in the center. He plopped two twenty-ounce bottles next to the box, one orange soda and one iced tea. “We’ve got a large sausage and mushroom, because I ain’t looking at pineapple on pizza tonight, you Hawaiian-loving weirdo.”

Although sausage and mushroom did go better with the rest of the meal, she scowled playfully at him. He always gave her grief for her taste in pizza. “Keep talking like that and you won't get any caprese salad.”

“Any what now?” he asked, transferring slices onto her red Fiestaware plates.

She shifted the box and showed him the plate. Fat chunks of mozzarella alternated with tomato slices, garnished with basil leaves, and all of it drizzled in olive oil and balsamic vinegar. She’d assembled it and put in the fridge before jumping in the shower earlier.

His eyes lit up. “Fancy!” He nudged his two slices of pizza aside to make room on his plate.

“Okay,” she said after serving herself. “Are you ready to plan?”

“Born ready,” he said, twisting the cap off the orange soda. “Hit me. What are you thinking?”

She pulled out her notebook. “I’ve jotted down some ideas. This is Iris’s thirtieth birthday. It’s a milestone. We want it to be special.”

He cut up a slice of mozzarella and swabbed up balsamic vinegar before popping it in his mouth. “Remind me why we’re planning this and Barry isn’t?”

“Because it’s supposed to stay a surprise for more than thirty seconds,” Caitlin said.

“And he folds like a cheap suit when she cocks her eyebrow. Right.”

She should feel guilty, using a party planning session as a pretense for luring Cisco into her clutches. But Iris, who’d listened to her agonize a few times, would more than understand. Anyway, Caitlin had ditched that plan.

Mostly.

She watched Cisco lick pizza grease off his lips and grin at her as he suggested a country western theme (which she shot down with a quickness) and reminded herself that she wasn’t going to jump him.

Which was too bad, because in that shirt and those pants, he was looking really good. And he was having an incredible hair day.

They settled on a private room at Iris’s favorite restaurant the Saturday after her birthday. Caitlin wrote herself a note to check availability, and to figure out backup restaurants if that one didn’t pan out.

“We should have a decoy celebration,” Cisco suggested. “Like, tell her to meet us for lunch on Sunday.”

“Right! If we all just pretend to have forgotten, she’ll know something’s up. A decoy sounds perfect. Now, who are we inviting to the real thing?”

Cisco pulled up Facebook on his phone and went trawling through Iris’s friend list. “I’ll take care of contacting everybody,” he said, scribbling names down. “Hey, have you got contact info for Linda Park?”

“I can get it,” Caitlin said, writing herself another note. “Iris would love it if she made it from Coast City for this.”

By the time they’d eaten half the pizza and all the caprese salad, they had the beginnings of a really nice party. Cisco closed the box. "Want to keep the rest of this?"

"You take it home," she said, hopping up. "But I do have a new recipe that I tried for dessert."

"I'm going to get fat if you keep making me all your finds," Cisco said, not sounding terribly worried about the prospect. "They're gonna start calling me Jello instead of Vibe."

She grinned at him. "Maybe it's awful. I did burn the lasagna."

"Yikes," he said, and loaded her dishwasher while she pulled the dessert out.

He tilted his head to study the mound of white dessert that she set in front of him. "Is this flan? Because I have to tell you, it’s on the pale side."

"No," she said. "It's panna cotta. Taste it."

He did, and made a noise in his throat that made her skin buzz. "Holy shit. What's it called again?"

"Panna cotta. I made it last night." She tasted it herself and almost sighed. It had really turned out well. Good choice to garnish with raspberries. Next time, she would have to do the mint chocolate variation she'd found.

"Just for funsies?"

"Well, I found the recipe and I really wanted to try it out."

"And you knew I'd be here to help you eat it," he said, taking another bite. "So how did you make it?"

She launched into an explanation of the recipe, how the cream had to just simmer, not fully boil. How you had to let the gelatin dissolve just right, why you had to warm the mixture and let it cool in a particular pattern so the chemical reaction could happen properly. How you could add vanilla or almond or tea or anything, really, to flavor it and then add even more things on top when it had chilled overnight, and then - if you chose - unmold it onto a plate before garnishing. It was her favorite kind of recipe - scientific precision on the one hand, endless flavor choices on the other.

He watched her, smiling as he ate his panna cotta. “Maybe you should make it for Iris’s party,” he suggested.

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I’m up to making this for that many people, and the restaurant might have something to say about it.”

“Okay,” he said with a laugh. “You’ll just have to make it for me again.”

She looked up to see him smiling at her, and her heart skipped a beat. “Okay,” she said, telling herself that her voice wasn’t breathier than Jessica Rabbit’s. “Sure. Anytime.”

Their gazes locked and held until her heart fluttered again, and his lips parted. He blinked, breaking the spell, and set his spoon in his empty dish. “I’m gonna - “ He gestured vaguely in the direction of her bathroom. “Um.”

“Sure,” she said, and had to sit for another five or ten seconds, catching her breath, before she could get up and take the panna cotta dishes to the sink. They had to be hand-washed, but she couldn’t do it now. She’d probably break one.

She cleaned up the rest of the table, checked that Cisco had loaded the dishwasher properly (he had) and was considering how salvageable the lasagna pan was when Cisco called out, “Hey, Caitlin?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can you come here a minute?”

She went to the living room to see him studying her coffee table. “So, what’s this?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. She’d forgotten about that setup. “Um, candles. And wine glasses.”

“Fancy candles,” he said. “And your good wine glasses. And I couldn't help but notice there was a pretty nice red wine breathing on the counter all through dinner.”

“Oh,” she said. “I forgot about that. Yes.”

“And I know you’ll probably be mad and I’m sorry, but I may have slightly snooped in your bedroom on my way to the bathroom and I noticed your closet had exploded.”

She felt herself go red to the hairline. “. . . Yes,” she admitted. “It did, kind of.”

He tilted his head. “Did you have a plan for tonight?”

She nodded slowly. Her face felt hot enough to cook an egg. “But I burned the lasagna and spent too much time looking for the right outfit and ruined it.”

He smushed his lips together. “That’s an easily ruined plan.”

“You know how I am about my plans,” she said.

“Yeah,” he admitted, and picked up one of the wine glasses. “Too bad. This looks like it would have been pretty nice.”

She stood looking at him twisting the wineglass in his fingers, and thought, I’m on Team Flash. Plans going wrong is where we live. I should be able to improvise.

She curled her toes against the carpet. “Do you want to know what end I was planning toward?” she asked.

He looked up at her. “Kinda would. Yeah.”

“Okay,” she said. Whispered, really. “Okay.”

She reached out and took the wineglass from his hand. Setting it down on the coffee table, she rested her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward to kiss him.

He went still, and she thought, Oh, oh no, I’ve misread everything, I -

Then his arms slipped around her waist and he kissed her back. Cautious at first, learning how they fit together, what she liked, what he liked. Then the kiss became more confident, hungrier. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed up against him, and he hummed in his throat the way he had when he’d tasted the panna cotta. This time, the sound thrilled her right down to the marrow.

They had to break for air eventually, and leaned together, panting. “So,” he said, his thumb rubbing against her rib cage through her thin shirt. “That was the end of the evening? In your plan?”

“Well,” she said, stroking her fingers through the baby-fine hairs on his neck. “No. Not necessarily.”

He smiled at her, his big joyful Cisco smile that she’d always loved to see, and said, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

FINIS

#Caitlin Snow #Cisco Ramon #Killervibe #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #birthday prompt party #gang aft agley #Caitlin honey breathe #it'll be fine #the flash #thapnbkrsnowvibe

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sherlockwaatson · 7 years ago

Text

mistletoe.

title: mistletoe. author: jeanette or caitlinsbarry. summary: in which it is a wasted christmas if there is not at least one kiss under the mistletoe. set post-1x09 of the flash ; the man in the yellow suit. author’s note: this is the first time i’ve published anything on tumblr, so here’s hoping it goes well !

. . .

Caitlin Snow was a lot of things. Perceptive was one of them.

She watched as everyone else began to slowly exit the Wests' home. Eddie kissed Iris goodnight, and Caitlin wasn't the slightest bit surprised to see the way Barry looked away, feigning interest in the Christmas tree, as if the sight of them together burned his eyes. Iris lightly pushed Eddie away, kissing his cheek and whispering a simple goodnight.

If she had to guess, she would say Barry had finally confessed to Iris how he felt. Considering her comfortable state with her current boyfriend, Caitlin would reckon Iris didn't reciprocate his feelings. And for that, her heart broke for Barry.

She saw the way he looked at Iris. Like she had put the stars in the sky, and done so with a smile brighter than every constellation combined. Sometimes, it filled Caitlin with an unspeakable pang. She wrote that off as sadness and nostalgia over Ronnie, a name that still caused a flash of pain to shoot through her.

Emotions were, of course, all scientific reactions to stimulation.

It was just kind of hard to remember that when those emotions, scientific or not, completely overwhelmed a person.

Rejection wasn't anywhere near as awful as death. She knew this, and not in a self-pitying way, but in a practical sense. She knew the death of her father when she was younger was far more painful than romantic rejection in high school.

But she also knew that being in love with someone who didn't love you back could easily shatter a person into a million little pieces. Not that she had ever fallen in love before Ronnie. She was simply as certain of this as she was that her hair was brown, Barry had super speed, science explained everything, and Cisco had an unhealthy obsession with Star Wars.

(She wouldn't dare admit that maybe, just maybe, it was because she was slowly but steadily falling for someone who didn't love her back. Someone who had just been rejected by somebody who didn't love him back. That was irony at its finest, and she had no interest in allowing herself to feel those things.

Not openly, at least.)

Cisco and Eddie both departed within a few minutes of each other, bidding everyone goodnight while Caitlin observed from the sidelines. Iris said an awkward goodnight to Barry before darting up the stairs to her bedroom, and Joe retired to his room for the evening with an ominous glass of eggnog.

Leaving Caitlin with Barry. Alone.

At first, he seemed startled to notice her hesitantly hovering by the Christmas tree. As if he had been so lost in his thoughts that he had entirely forgotten her presence. Then a minuscule smile crossed his expression, filled with so much light that it made the sun at its very brightest appear dim.

"Cait. Interested in more eggnog? I'm not sure there's that much left, but--"

She shook her head, and he shut up. It was often like Barry to ramble on and on, especially when he was stressed or nervous. But he was neither of those things now, nor did he have any reason to be. It wasn't like she made him nervous, that was the territory of Iris West.

After a fleeting moment of silence, she finally spoke up. "You told Iris how you felt, didn't you?" Despite it being a question, it sounded more like a statement. Firm yet understanding.

A beat passed. She wondered if he was going to try to lie, despite the fact that his emotions were written across his face. Except, lying had never been Barry Allen's forte, not really, not unless it was necessary. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"I'm gathering it didn't go well?"

He let out a short laugh. "No, not particularly. I mean . . . I don't know." He chuckled again, ducking his head. She couldn't help but find the movement oddly endearing. "I'm happy for her and Eddie, honestly. I'm happy she's happy, it's just . . ."

"You would prefer it if she was happy with you." This time, it was a statement, through and through.

Barry smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. The realization of that, that the light was dimming in his eyes at least for tonight, hit Caitlin with the force of a punch. "You know me too well, Dr. Snow."

She found herself smiling back, as she often did around him, though she worried it was just as halfhearted as his.

Barry Allen's ability to always bring a smile out of her was something that still came as a surprise, even after how much time had passed. They were friends, that was true, but she could still perfectly recall what he had said to her a short while after they first met.

I just noticed you don't smile too much.

Life was always changing. Evolution was apart of everyday life, and this shouldn't have come as such a shock to her. But he had been entirely correct -- she hadn't smiled too much. Or ever, really.

Until he came along.

Caitlin tucked a loose strand of light brown hair behind her ear, not thinking of the way his gaze darted up to settle on her face as she did so. "You looked like you needed someone to talk to," she said softly. "So I thought I would stay for awhile longer. If you want."

Always trying to seem happy in even the worst of situations, she was hardly caught off guard when Barry smiled again. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind that." He sat down on the edge of the Wests' cough, patting the empty space beside him. Caitlin hesitated, glancing at one of the nearby chairs, but he shook his head, patting again.

Persistent little speedster, wasn't he?

With a quiet little sigh, she took a seat next to him. Keeping a safe amount of space between them, of course. Not that it mattered either way, because they were just friends. "So what did she say?"

Barry exhaled, the smile slowly slipping from his expression. She hated to see it fade. "She didn't say anything at all, that's the thing. I was just talking and talking, spilling everything I'd kept bottled up for so long, and -- and what could she say, Cait? She's in love with Eddie. It's fine. I'm fine."

Caitlin would totally believe that. If it didn't seem like he was trying to convince himself more than her, that is.

The thought that Iris could have apologized, or talked to Barry about it did occur to her, but she saw no sense in suggesting that. It would only hinder Barry's process of accepting all of this. "Well, at least you finally let it all out. That's a good thing, isn't it?"

He nodded, glancing down at his lap. The colorful holiday lights surrounding them, almost ethereally lovely with their soft glow in the near dark, caused his brown hair to appear almost reddish. She couldn't help but think it was rather . . . beautiful.

Caitlin was not a particularly touch-y person, never prone to excessive hugging or public displays of affection. A hug here or there when it was meaningful, a hand to hold in times of distress, but nothing over the top. It just wasn't her style.

For that matter, neither was comforting people who had just had their heart shattered by the person they had spent almost their whole life hopelessly in love with.

Despite all of that, she was prone to being there for those who needed her. Especially the people she cared about. And she had come to care about Barry Allen (perhaps too much, but that was a realization for another night). Quite a lot.

Hesitantly, Caitlin intertwined their fingers, responding to his startled look with a half-smile that she hoped appeared reassuring. "Everything will be okay in the end. If it isn't okay, it isn't the end."

"With sayings like those, you could be a motivational speaker."

"I think we both know I prefer science over emotions."

Barry chuckled, his attention dropping to their hands, so messily yet carefully tangled together. "I can definitely understand why," he muttered. There was still a certain sadness about him, easy to sense, and Caitlin felt her heart physically ache from the thought of him being in any kind of pain.

She wasn't certain when her protective nature over him had shown up. All she knew was that it had, and there was no getting rid of it now. Not that she wanted to.

But truly, how could she possibly protect him from this?

"Thanks for staying," he said suddenly, their eyes meeting once more. She felt something in her chest, not the usual pang she was accustomed to, but something that felt more like a skipped heartbeat. Highly illogical, but-- "And for everything."

Caitlin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Everything?"

"Helping me become the Flash," Barry clarified. "I couldn't have done any of it without you. O-Or Cisco and Dr. Wells, of course, but . . . still. You've helped a lot, and I can't count the number of times you've saved my life, and dozens of other lives in the process. So, thank you for that."

There was that strange feeling in her chest again, far more prominent than before. Almost as if it was attempting to swallow her whole. She tried to ignore it, instead plastering a small smile on her face. "You don't need to thank me, Barry."

"Yes, I do," he insisted. Always stubborn, always sticking close to what he thought was right, always following through with it. Even if his entire world was crashing down. It was one of the things she admired most about him. "I do need to thank you. I might be the Flash, but . . . the reason I am is you."

Another beat passed, this one longer than the last time.

(It felt like her heart was going to pound right out of her chest, and at this point, she would have gladly allowed it to. Anything to stop these unwanted feelings. She wasn't ready to fall in love again, wasn't ready to feel anything like this again.)

Barry paused, clearing his throat awkwardly. "And, uh, and the others. Without you . . . guys, there is no Flash."

This time, Caitlin glanced down at their twined hands. Her hair brushed in front of her face, thankfully hiding her quickly warming cheeks. "Well, then. Thank you for always saving the day."

She had never been particularly skilled with words. She couldn't give long, sentimental speeches that left people flushed, not the way that Barry did. But the meaning was just the same, and she hoped he could sense that.

It seemed that he did. His fingers gently grazed his jaw, eliciting a startled sort of yelp from Caitlin, before he tucked her hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek. "You know, no one's Christmas should pass without at least one kiss under the mistletoe."

Caitlin blinked rapidly. "I don't recall ever hearing that rule before."

Barry's eyes glinted mischievously, in a way that suggested she had never heard it because he had just thought it up. Suddenly, the light pressure against her skin was gone, leaving her feeling cold even with the heating, as he vanished in a blur. He was back before she could consider standing up, the Wests' front door cracked slightly open, letting in even more cold air.

She was about to chastise him for that, before noticing what he held in his right hand.

Mistletoe.

"We wouldn't want to break holiday tradition," Barry said, with a hopeful smile that caused butterflies to flare up in her stomach. (Which was such an unrealistic expression, those feelings were clearly due to chemistry, but she was too shocked to focus on that right now.) "Would we?"

Caitlin blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

And then she stood up, a smile filled with the same kind of child-like adoration she often saw his expressions reflect. There was something crazily bright and hopeful about Barry Allen, something that inspired Caitlin to continue searching for the good things in life, keep moving forward, no matter what. "No. No, we wouldn't."

With a steady slowness (such a drastic difference from his typical brisk pace), Barry took a few steps closer to her. She felt her heartbeat quicken with each step, the pulse in her wrists hammering from pure adrenaline, and then his left hand cupped her cheek and his lips were pressed softly against hers and she could hardly breathe.

For a kiss that couldn't have possibly meant anything to him, other than a show of gratitude for her being there for him, it certainly meant a lot to her. Too much.

It ended far too soon for her liking, but Barry kept his forehead lightly leaned against hers. His dark eyes were sparkling, and perhaps not just because of the twinkling fairy lights hung throughout the living room.

He was tragically beautiful, she realized with a pang that felt far too familiar to her.

(So much for not falling in love again.)

"Merry Christmas, Dr. Snow."

She swallowed hard. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Allen."

(We are quite the pair, Mr. Allen.

Yes, we are, Dr. Snow.)

#snowbarry #snowbarry fanfiction #snowbarryfic #snowbarryedit #flashfrost #snowallen #the flash fanfiction #fanfiction

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