#not inertia sorry yall

[kidflashimpulse]

second half of the “last chapter” of An Anomaly In Time is up, hope u enjoy it :)

Chapter summary:

This was not the family reunion that Bart was expecting.

Meanwhile Barry and Cisco realise their fanboy hopes and aspirations featuring Harrison Wells.

(or)

The (not so) last chapter of AAIT

[diodellet]

cw: sorry for writing more bedroom shenanigans, it will happen again. unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. probably some scientific inaccuracies, except for the inertia bits, that i understand. established relationship things and some light swearing. it's all lighthearted 😇

who needs morning alarms when you're partners with naga!jamil?

the first thing to wake you up is the cold press of his scales against your skin. which is the beginning of the end, sad to say. being part-reptile, of course his instincts bring him to search for the closest heat source. as the warm-blooded one in the relationship, you will make do.

which leads to your current predicament - not the comforting feeling of sleeping in his arms, the upper body situation is all fine and dandy on this side, you like the fabric of his sweater, you (both) deeply crave this kind of skinship, it's all good up here! - his coils are twined around your legs, heavy enough to pin you in place, leaving you vulnerable to the cold of the room. as your eyes crack open, what greets you is the dim blue glow of dawn. of course.

in this world of magic, you'd think they'd have created a kind of blanket that doesn't become utterly useless after several hours of shifting in one's sleep. with your limited movement, you manage to free one arm.

"jamil." you shake his shoulder.

"hmm?"

"can you get up, please? i need to shut off the ac."

to your dismay, he makes a vague sound of protest, curls his arms more protectively around you.

"jamil." he can't seriously be going back to sleep.

"it's still early, and you're all nice and warm..." and wasn't that the twisted miracle of this situation? the fact that you woke up before his alarms?

his languidness has got to be a joke. you've seen him move quicker than a bullet. snakes can haul ass when the situation calls for it. you weigh your options, you could yell 'spider' and risk the consequences of a freshly-awoken-and-panicking jamil.

or you could just freeze. who needs legs? who needs to move? the way his fingers idly stroked against the flesh of your stomach was nice and comforting -

"bullshit, you're also freezing...!" he just liked to see you struggle, didn't he? you try kicking your legs in a last bid to free yourself only for his coils to shift and properly entrap you in their grip.

oh that was unfair, being comprised of mostly muscle and having quick reflexes even when half-asleep. damned naga anatomy.

you heave an exasperated sigh through your nose, not even bothering to hide your annoyance.

jamil's breath fans across the back of your neck. "didn't you want to spend more time together like this?" he asks, faux-dejection creeping into his voice.

the skin of your nape erupts in a flurry of goosebumps, definitely not from the cold. you feel like you're burning, and you're not sure if that's a good thing.

so you decide to roll off the bed and take him down with you.

tagging my fellow jamilnatics: @viperwhispered @twstgo @crystallizsch @jessamine-rose @just-a-little-silly

(if any yall wanna be tagged for future jamil writing, just lmk through the replies. i know in my bones he will strike again)

[persephoneflouwers]

Lucky Again

I spent the last few days thinking about this song quite a lot. I haven’t paid much attention to it at first, probably the excitement felt a bit mitigated by the fact we knew the song already, but I’ve been binge listening to the album for a month now and every week it’s a new week obsessing with a different song, so now it’s Lucky Again turn. I haven’t read many analysis or opinions lately, because I’ve been pretty busy, so I’m sorry if this is something someone already wrote about or if it doesn’t really make sense. It does make sense in my head tho, so I’ll hope I can articulate my thoughts well enough to convey the message lol.

I think Lucky Again is a very comforting song, more like self-comforting. It is a love song, but to himself. And since when I started reading at it like this… Lucky Again has been hurting more than any other song in the album. Yeah, I said that about All this time too but yall know what I mean lol. They are very very very personal songs. Louis is so good at writing about himself and being so open to fucking stub your heart with a single word, but sometimes it goes a bit unheard. Not here tho, not here.

Anyway. Let’s start!

You give and give until it's gone away, Just tell yourself you've got another day

Starting with a bang. I usually read deeper than necessary but the incipit feels a bit tough, doesn’t it? He’s saying life can get consuming. It consumes you, your time, your energies, sometimes your feelings. You give and give until everything is gone and you go though your day by inertia, one day after the other.

You've lived that life, you just don't see it yet

Truth been spoken. When you are in your darkest place, it’s hard to appreciate what you have and usually you miss it when it’s gone (oh wait! Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it 🎶)

I see how hard you've worked to be yourself

When I tell you I sobbed the first time this line clicked in my brain. Just imagine Louis saying this to himself… argh! I don’t know how to react. It’s like absolutely amazing he appreciates and values how much he has grown as a person and how many steps forward he has taken and how rough some times were. It’s amazing to see him acknowledging he came out of his own dark places or at least he has tried. I was wondering what Louis meant when he said in some interviews he doesn’t like when people pity him, and I see why. There’s nothing to pity here, it’s just congratulations for how strong and tough he is. Hard work always always pays off.

If you believe that guy is Superman, They're selling tickets at the cinema

The interpretations of this line are potentially endless, but it always hit me for how real it is. It spoke to me like the best way to say ‘it’s bullshit, but you do you’. It’s a recurrent concept in FITF, the disillusionment and the concreteness of reality. He’s not a dreamer in this album, always very optimistic, positive, mature but never not pragmatic. He sounds jealous at some point, like one of those things you say to your partner when they make a comment about somebody else, right? But it’s the way he sets this in a specific direction, he sets the tone with two words: superMAN and cinema. So it feels to me like he is talking about a famous person who usually gets idolised, and by extent fame, popularity in general. I am not a teacher, but I would say this is a rhetoric figure called Synecdoche and I absolutely adore it! So does Louis, by the way. The choice of words is interesting and telling. He’s using believe as something a bit negative here. That’s ironic for an abum called FAITH in the future, isn’t it? But it’s his way apparently. He wants to create a paradox, a contrast and it’s clear since the cover of the album, since it doesn’t strike as a faithful cover to me lmao

Whatever gets you through the darkest night, Just find the light, Out in the madness, hold tight

Now that I’m writing about it, every line in this song feels like a ring of a chain and everyone references the other like it’s 🤯. Sometimes when I listen to songs I imagine how the singer would speak to someone else. For this part, I clearly see future Louis talking to present Louis and that applies to any other timeline, it’s an inception of Louis talking to himself basically. He’s encouraging to keep going no matter what (whatever gets you).

Through the night… isn’t it a-m-a-z-i-n-g how consistent this theme is in Louis songs? He’s been singing Through the dark for months and look at her, coming back in disguise! Self references are hot, but this one gets the cake. Is he by any chance saying «whatever gets you through the night… we will find a way through the dark» etc etc? Love it. 10/10.

'Cause I'm a hard man to lose

This has always felt a bit… weird. Like imagine you go “im hard man to lose” in a song where you are basically saying you are happy you’re together again or something. It feels… arrogant? A bit? And honestly that’s not a ‘songwriter Louis’ move. I just don’t see it. And I know, it’s always about the layers with him, but what if it’s literal this time? What if he is saying “I am not the one gives up, I am not the one losing”? After all, he’s been pretty open here about how hard he worked, he has just said he has to hold tightly.

But I figured it out then made my way back To a life I would choose

He settled it for me in this line. He is not one to lose, that’s how he went back to the life he chose and he says it as proudly as he can because the thing is… it doesn’t matter how crazy it is (the madness and all that) but he would do it again. Despite all the shit, he would do it again. You can take it as a nod to his relationship of course. He changes the line second time with ‘I'm a hard man to find, but you figured it out and I love you for that’, almost pushing for a love story interpretation. But to me it feels more like he is talking about second chances, specifically in his life and work opportunities . The life I would choose part screams career to me and hits you in the face pretty hard if you think of how many obstacles he has been going through since the start of his solo career and even before during the band.

We were lucky once, I could be lucky again

He’s been using only you/I form til here. Now, I know this we can be misleading. It’s very natural to conceive a we as an us, like two people in a relationship or something, but see… that’s very Louis lol. He writes songs like stories and here he’s storytelling. Sometimes it even feels like a plurale maiestatis! I use it an embarrassing amount of time especially for non-formal conversations, and probably this is my bias of interpretation since English is not my first language but it’s curious the way he switches from a We (in past form), to I (possible future form). That’s why I think the we is used only to help with the story he’s writing about, the past he’s recalling while writing the song.

Before the world had got so serious, Before the time it got away from us

Layers againnnnn! Is this about his past maybe in the band or before that? Is this about… I don’t know, the pandemic? The world got pretty serious in 2020 didn’t it? And stunt-wise things haven’t been looking pretty bright since the second half of 2020 so… yeah. But actually I consider this a description of more innocent times. He seems nostalgic of. Still… he doesn’t seem to be willing to go back then again. He misses simple times, but has faith the future would make him feel lucky again.

It got away from us… is so strong. It’s powerful the way he never really blames anyone for the bad or the wrong. It’s just that time goes away. Very Heraclitus of him with the panta rei and all (an usual recurrent theme in Louis songwriting) and very it is what it is too. He’s very coherent in his songs, I love it.

I meet you at the favorite subway stop, We grab some food then meet the lads for one

Storytelling king strikes again. He’s so good in describing moments from the past. Like Saturdays is a song born entirely from past memories, so I really shouldn’t be surprised he does it in Lucky too, but still! Look, lines like this are seriously meant to paint a scenario in your head and he does it so well. Meet, eat and smoke with friends like a Netflix and chill ante litteram. It’s so straightforward. 11/10.

Look back on a time, I was lucky once, I could be lucky again

I love love LOOOVE the way he uses look back on a time, because he really kinda confirms how all he just did was recalling moments from a past life through lyrical narration.

What a gem of a song.

Also special mention to The unfiltered version of Lucky again with the “I’m lucky/I’m in love” whatever the fuck you meant by that, Louis, that was pretty sick and it should have survived the final revisions.

[paralianprince]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　where the hell have i been　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ���

HI YALL I MISS MY SONS (AGAIN) AND IM GOING TO TRY TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT (AGAIN) heaven help me

anyhoozys sorry about my literal year of total radio silence lmfao i moved to the middle of nowhere in the woods and took so long to get my shit set up that i just. accidentally cold turkeyed my own hobby inertia to a complete halt. by the time we had internet of any kind it was 2 late.

unfortunately i still miss rp like burning and unfortunately i also basically work 12 hour days and also got rly into cooking elaborate meals for no reason so im literally always holding spare half hours in my shitty, frail, writing-super-slowly hands. i also accidentally started making a heartgold romhack for the past nine months because i still needed to create SOMETHing but didnt need a decent internet connection to do that (our internet is still god awful because again, i cannot emphasize enough the extent to which we live in the middle of the fucking woods)

i kno ive done this like twice already (tried to get into writing again) so if i fail again then im pre emptively sorry lmao but i want to TRY

please pray for me im so non-committal send me your spirit energy so my intent to create collaboratively can overcome my shitty brain thx. HOW HAVE YOU ALL BEEN I MISSED LIKE......... SO MANTY PEOPLE IT HURT. MY HEART. A LOT

[watchmegetobsessed]

Señorita - Shawn Mendes (pt 2)

yall went crazy for my senorita imagine, thank you for the love you showed it, now im bringing you part 2!! im having an amazing time writing about bad boy shawn, not sure how long this will turn out  to be but i hope yall will stick with me during this journey! literally spent my last 24 hours writing it so i can bring the second part as soon as possible and im sooo excited about it!!

5k of angst, fluff and pure anxiety

ALSO for that nosy ass anon, i inserted a keep reading function, hope your life is happy now :)))))))))) (though its not showing on the app for me only on pc and this is why i dont fuck around with these kind of stuff)

part 1 - part 3

masterlist

Three days. It has been three day since you spent the night with Shawn. He promised to come by the diner the next day but he never showed up. By the end of your shift you were basically a nerve-wreck, hoping to find him leaning against his bike outside, but the parking lot was painfully empty.

You don’t even have his number. For fuck’s sake, you don’t even know if he has a phone! These three days just gave you a million opportunities to think about how stupid you were to fall for his games. He probably never thought of you as more than just a one night stand. It even crossed your mind that you might have just been a bet with his stupid friends and you willingly gave his victory to him. Anger, hatred, disappointment and regret fueled your body that night when he failed to show up as promised. You wanted to cry, scream and shout, but at the end you felt like it’s just… not worth it.

“Rosie, you know I love you, but I can’t keep up with my and your tables as well,” you tell your favorite co-worker once you are back in the kitchen and find her sitting on the counter top, scrolling through her phone.

“I’m sorry, but this is just blowing my mind,” she tells you, her eyes wide at the screen while you put the dirty dishes into the sink and start rinsing them off, something you always do to make the work of the kitchen staff easier.

“What’s so important that you can’t do your job?” you ask a little annoyed, but more curious.

“There was a huge scuffle downtown like an hour ago.”

“What?” you snap, your stomach immediately dropping. You squeeze yourself up to her side as she scrolls through the short news article. It doesn’t say much, only that the police was called because probably two rival gangs had a fight and someone heard a gunshot as well. Two guys were caught, but you know neither of them is Shawn because they would have already made sure everyone in town knows Shawn Mendes was caught.

“Damn it,” you mumble, your thoughts racing faster than ever.

You might be hating on the guy, but you definitely don’t want him to get hurt. That gunshot makes your stomach churn when you think that the bullet might have ended up in him for all you know.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” Rob’s voice makes both of you jump as he stares at you in disbelief. His mouth in a disapproved grimace under his rather disgusting mustache, his hands on his hips. “I’m not paying you to chit-chat in the kitchen. Get out and do your job!”

Rosie and you rush out, leaving the steamy kitchen behind as you quickly start pretending like you are so busy with work, just until Rob disappears in his office again, not giving a flying fuck about what’s going outside.

You take some orders and bring out some drinks before going back to the kitchen to hide behind the fridge. Pressing your back to the wall you slide down and hug your knees to your chest, not able to get Shawn out of your mind. The painful inertia is just killing you, not even knowing where he is and if he is okay.

Your mind leaves your body by the end of your shift. You keep messing the orders up and you can’t stop apologizing, but you just couldn’t get Shawn off of your mind and you hate him for that. The thought of going to bed seems like heaven to you when you arrive to your house. You slide your key into the lock, but you notice the door is not locked and you freeze.

Can it be that you forgot to lock the door this morning? You were pretty tired, it would make sense, but it’s not something that has happened before.

Reaching into your bag you grab your pepper spray, ready to defend yourself against anything that’s waiting for you inside. You slowly open the door, walking inside as quiet as possible, holding the spray up as your eyes scan the room. Nothing seems to be odd, Gordon walks out of the bathroom so calmly that he almost convinces you there is no one else in the house, but you’re still not sure about that.

Brushing himself against your leg he purrs for you before moving to the couch and curling up on one of the pillows. You are just about to believe that the place is clear when you hear a noise coming from the bathroom.

You glance at Gordon as if he could tell you what it was, after all he just came out of there and didn’t seem to be bothered. You make your way towards the bathroom, still holding the spray up. Pushing the door open you step inside and suddenly a hand wraps around your wrist.

“Fuck!” you scream, your finger missing the top of the spray and you even drop it, almost pissing your pants.

“Hey, it’s just me!” you hear a familiar voice but it can’t stop your body from shaking like a leaf.

You finally make Shawn’s tall figure out in the dark, his large hands taking yours as he pulls you closer to him and you let him do so.

“Shit, Shawn!” you gasp on the verge of tears. You’ve never been more scared for your life. His arms wrap around your body as he holds you tight, your face pressed against the hot skin of his chest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispers gently stroking your hair as you slowly calm down, recovering from your heart-attack.

Once you are back, mind and body functioning again you firmly push him away from you, letting your frustration explode out of you.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” you snap at him, but your anger quickly disappears when you see his face turn into a painful grimace as his hands cover his ribs on his right side, close to where you just pushed him. “Oh my God, what’s wrong?” you panic, quickly reaching for the light switch.

You can’t believe your eyes when you see the huge bruise on his side. It’s as big as his hand twice and the colors are not too promising either as his skin is painted in blue, green, purple and red making up a galaxy-like patch on his torso.

“Shit, I think it’s broken,” you gasp taking a better look at it.

“It’s alright, I just need some ice on it,” he breathes out, trying his best to cover up his pain, but you see right through him.

“Come on.”

You pull him out of the small bathroom, making him sit on the couch. Gordon eyes him curiously as he holds his hand to his side while you jog to the fridge. You grab the icepack from freezer and return to him, kneeling down in front of him, gently peeling his hand off of his wound.

“How did you even get into my house?” you ask as you gently put the icepack to his side and he hisses from the sudden feeling.

“Keys under the flowerpot? Pretty predictable,” he smirks at you between two grimaces as his hand takes up your hand’s place on the pack and he holds it to his side. You mentally note to look for a better hiding spot for your spare key.

“And what were you doing in the bathroom in the dark?”

“I uh… I wanted to lay down in the bathtub, hoping it would feel nice and cold.”

“But I don’t have a bathtub.”

“Yeah, I figured it out right when you got home.”

Leaning back on the couch he keeps his eyes closed and you’re not sure what you should do now. Should you kick him out? Or ask what the fuck happened in the past few days? You realize you are not even in a real relationship to question him about his whereabouts.

Standing up you are about to go to the kitchen for some water maybe when his eyes pop open and grabbing your hand he pulls you down next to him.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some water?”

“No need for that,” he smiles at you tiredly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, trying to make you cuddle to his side that’s not beaten up, but you move back. “What’s wrong?”

“Shawn, you can’t just appear after days and pretend like nothing really happened.”

“Are you mad because I disappeared?”

He tries to pull you back to him, but you need space. You hop to your feet and he follows you, putting the height difference to your list of anxieties. You can’t think straight when he is towering above you with his defined jawline and hazel eyes.

“You disappeared, got into a fight and then broke into my house bruised up, expecting me to just pretend like it’s normal. It’s not normal for me, Shawn.”

“I know,” he sighs and for the first time you see him anxious, though he is doing a good job hiding it. You almost missed it. “And I’m sorry. I really am.”

His fingers brush against your cheek, leaning closer his nose touches your forehead and you are determined to avoid looking into his eyes knowing well you’d just get weak.

“Shawn, I can’t do this,” you say, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“Do what?”

“This. You and me. It’s just not working, okay?” Taking a step away from him you lose physical contact with him as he stands there, staring at you a bit confused.

“How do you know it’s not working if you don’t even give it a chance?”

“I gave it,” you snap, finally finding the courage to look at him. “That night when I was at your place, but it went to nothing when you disappeared for three days.”

“Y/N, I told you, that I’m sorry,” he repeats as if saying it again and again solves everything instantly. It’s obvious he has never had to work for anyone like this which kind of makes you proud of yourself, but you don’t let him know that.

“Saying that you’re sorry is not changing anything,” you tell him. “Not that anything should be changed, this whole thing was over before it could start.”

“Don’t say that!” he suddenly snaps, raising his voice. You’re quite taken aback from his reaction and it must be showing on your face because he quickly holds himself back, lowering his tone when he continues. “Don’t just give up on me so easily. Please.” Closing the distance between the two of you he throws the icepack to the side so both his hands are free to hold your face in them.

“Why don’t you give up on me?” you whisper feeling yourself reaching your breaking point. His forehead rests on yours, the physical contact is basically making you see sparkles.

“Because I know that I just can’t. I don’t know why. Please, just… give me one more chance.”

There is something in it when he starts begging. You don’t know if he is doing it on purpose or not, but it’s putting a spell on you whenever he says the magic word, please. Your brain wants to send him away, teach him a well-deserved lesson, but your heart takes over this time.

“Okay. But we need to lay out some rules.”

“Rules?” he asks, his face lighting up.

“Yes. And please, take them seriously,” you firmly say, wanting him to know that this is important for you.

“I will. Promise. Let’s talk about those rules, Señorita.”

  You make them clear and easy.

One, he has to let you know by the end of every day that he is alright. For this you finally exchange numbers, which just feels ridiculous if you think about how this should have happened at the very beginning if it was a normal relationship. You don’t ask for much, just a text is enough, the best if he comes by the diner, but you can’t expect him to spend all his time around you.

Two, no more sneaking into your house. You just can’t risk attacking him because you think it’s an intruder.

And three… Be honest.

“I’m already honest with you, Y/N,” he says narrowing his eyes at you, not really understanding what you mean.

“Uhuh, like the other time when you said you didn’t know those guys who started the fight. They called you by name, I’m not stupid, you knew them.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh he presses his lips into a thin line. You push yourself up, looking down at his lying figure on your bed. His side still looks horrible, but he keeps telling it’s fine even though you are pretty sure his ribs are broken.

“There are some things that are best if you don’t know about.”

This uneasy, bitter feeling is back. You sit up, turning away from him. You were dumb enough to think that he wants to change for the better for you, but it seems like he is not willing to leave his lifestyle back anytime soon.

“What did I say this time?” he sighs pushing himself up, wincing a little at the movement.

“Nothing,” you mumble, making your way into the bathroom. You pray he doesn’t follow, but you are out of luck. As you grab your night shirt you see him in the mirror, appearing behind you.

“Y/N, honesty goes for both of us. What’s gotten you upset?”

You refuse to look at him, just take your shirt and pants off, acting like he is not even there. You sleep in an oversized t-shirt, so you just throw it on and then take your bra off from under it. You see the smirk on his lips from your little maneuver and you know he is aching to comment on how he has seen everything under that shirt, but you’re glad he keeps it to himself.

“Y/N, please answer!” He turns you by your chin to face you and you are just silently fuming, not wanting to give the words into his mouth. “Baby, what did I do wrong this time?”

Why does he has to be so persistent? You know he is not letting it go and it’s obvious you are not getting out of the bathroom until you tell him what he wants.

“I just thought that you are going to give up all that dangerous stuff.”

You expect him to laugh at you. You feel ridiculous, so you are sure he thinks the same of you, but instead, his eyes soften at you as his hands slide down your side and to your waist.

“It’s not that simple,” he sighs, his voice laced with guilt. “I’ve tried to leave it all behind. Many times, but it’s not that easy.”

“But you can try at least,” you growl at him crabbed, taking a step back from him as you lean your back against the cold wall.

He stands there, clearly torn between two worlds. You hate giving ultimatums to people, it’d piss you off if it would be you on the other end, but Shawn seems to be calmer than what you expected. You could almost see the little devil and angel on his shoulders, whispering into his ears and you realize you are putting too much pressure on him. You can’t redeem the world in one day and he already agreed to a lot of other small things. Change doesn’t come over night.

Pushing yourself away from the wall you step closer to him, your hands slide up his chest to the base of his neck, the silver necklace rolling under your touch.

“I’m sorry, I was being greedy,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his. “I have to be more patient with you.” He closes his eyes, arms around your body and you swear he is sniffing you, but you let it pass.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better. For you,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowed. Your lips brush against his and he quickly kisses you before another word could be said.

You moan into his mouth once you feel his tongue against yours. His fingers tangle into your hair and he starts to push you slowly right until your back hits the wall again. When your hands wander down on his naked torso you make sure not to hurt him around his wounded side, but it’s a little hard to contain yourself when his lips are traveling down on your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on your heated skin.

Desire is burning between your legs and you just want to forget about everything that happened today, but you both know Shawn is not fine enough physically to deal with your endless lust right now.

The kisses slow down, panting echoes in the small bathroom as you try to catch your breath.

“Let’s get you to bed, okay?” you whisper, barely finding your own voice. He nods and you tangle yourself out from him.

Lying on the bed you curl up to his healthy side as he wraps his strong arms around your figure, his thumb repetedly caressing your shoulder as you listen to his steady heartbeat.

“Shawn?” you speak up after a while hoping he is not asleep just yet.

“Mmm,” he hums as a reply.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

His fingers stop for a few moments before he holds you tighter to his body, kissing into your hair.

“I’ll try.”

“So, I haven’t seen Mr. Danger around here lately.” Rosie arches an eyebrow at you while you are counting the fat tip you just got, tugging it away into your apron’s pocket.

“Who?” you ask, pretending not to know who she is talking about, but Shawn’s handsome face immediately pops up in your mind, almost making you smile.

“You know who I’m talking about,” she gives you a look as she fills up three cups with lemonade, but she keeps looking out for Rob. Apparently, he told her that she is skating on thin ice with her working attitude and needs to put more effort into her work if she wants to keep receiving her paychecks.

“Why would he come here?” you keep up the act.

“Oh, cut the shit, Y/N. What’s up with him, have you talked lately?”

You sigh, giving in, not wanting to torture her any longer, but just when you open your mouth the door of the diner flies open, the small bell rings in warning and you both turn just in time to see Shawn walk in, his usual leather jacket on, hair perfectly messy from probably riding his bike and he unhurriedly takes his aviator sunglasses off, his eyes lazily looking around the place until they find you and a smug smile plasters across his face.

“Holy shit,” you hear Rosie mumbling under her breath and you show an elbow to her side, making her lose balance for a moment. She shoots you a look, but you shoot it back.

“Show your tongue back into your mouth,” you tell her as you walk out from behind the counter, meeting Shawn midway between the tables.

“Hey there, Señorita.”

His large hands immediately slide to your side, holding you firmly as you throw your arms around his neck, your fingers finding his soft curls at the back of his head.

“Hi,” you whisper as he leans down and kisses you softly, making you forget about everything else that’s around you in this moment.

“You hungry?” you ask as you lead him to his usual box.

“For you? Always.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, but you can’t push a smile down as you look down at him.

“Anything from the menu?” you ask, and quickly add: “I’m not on the menu.”

“What a pity,” he sighs. “Then scrambled eggs with bacon, please. When are you going on a break?”

“Um, in about twenty,” you say checking the clock across the wall.

“Perfect,” he grins at you as you turn around and go back to Rosie behind the counter.

You give the order to the kitchen stuff and face Rosie’s questioning and shocked face.

“What the fuck was that?”

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“Um, you eyefucking with none other than Shawn Mendes, the Greek god of town.”

“Rosie, do you ever filter what you say?” you ask gasping. You definitely did not eyefuck him. Or… did you?

“Is this like an official thing now?” she asks following you into the kitchen as you grab a Corona from the fridge for table 4.

“Kind of,” you shrug, making it look like it’s not a big deal, but your inner self has been jumping up and down for days now, screaming in happiness.

“Okay, you are telling me everything on the way home,” she demands before disappearing from your sight, not even giving you the chance to protest.

Bliss. Utter bliss. This is how you can describe the past few days.

You can tell Shawn has been doing everything he can to make things work for you. He spent the night at your place a few times and when he couldn’t, he made sure to call you before you go to sleep, just asking you about how your day has been, genuinely interested in everything you had to say. You spent another day off with him yesterday, just lazily chilling in bed, watching movies and having some steamy and hot sex, which is kind of your favorite part every time he is over.

He refused to go to a doctor with his side though, said he has a cousin who’s a doctor and that he checked it out, gave him some pills and said it’ll be alright. You’re skeptical about that, but you didn’t want to start a fight about that. It’s starting to look better anyway and he is not wincing anymore when you accidentally touch it.

You still worry about him whenever he is away, not really knowing what he is doing and that’s just too troublesome for you, but you are learning to deal with your own dark thoughts.

You feel like a giddy teenage girl as you move around the diner, doing your job, but sneakily keep glancing at Shawn who has his eyes glued to you the whole time.

“I can’t work like this,” you sigh stopping at his table and he blinks up at you angelically, pretending to be the most innocent guy in the world.

“What? I’m not doing anything!”

“You are basically stripping me with your eyes,” you whisper leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You can feel eyes on you, some local women have been eyeing you enviously after seeing you and Shawn kiss, but you’re kind of enjoying it.

Yeah, bitches, take that! The town’s sexiest guy is all over me! You think to yourself.

“I’m sorry, but this skirt is just… making me feel things,” he sighs taking a good look at your work clothes. It’s a typical, light pink waitress uniform, the skirt might be a little shorter than the average, but Rob thinks that’s just bringing the tips in, so you don’t have anything against it. Apparently, Shawn shares the same thoughts as Rob, enjoying the view.

“I’m off in two. Wanna go outside?” you ask checking the time.

“Sure.”

You go back to the kitchen and grab your phone from the dressing room. You pull out the elastic from your hair, gently massaging your scalp where your bun was before.

“I’m going on my break!” you tell Rosie who is behind the register this time.

“Don’t want to hear moaning from the back, oh wait, maybe it might be hot. I like it, do what you want,” she smirks at you and you just give her a disapproving look.

“Filter, Rosie. Think about what you say before saying it!” you tell her walking away.

Shawn is already at the door, he opens it for you as the two of you walk out to the back of the building for some alone time.

His bike is parked by the wall, not far from the little bench you have there for those who smoke on their breaks.

“I missed you,” he mumbles into your neck, pulling you close immediately when you are out of the sight of the people on the road that runs in front of the diner.

“You mean in the twenty minutes that I had to work while you were staring at me?” you giggle, hands on his broad shoulders as you try not to moan from the way he is kissing your neck.

“Yeah. Hardest twenty minutes of my life.”

He backs you until you bump against the wall and he locks you there with his hands on each sides of your head. You hide yours behind your back as you blink up at him, biting into your bottom lip. His eyes are so much darker this time, lust burning in them as he takes his time looking you up and down.

“You are so fucking sexy, Señorita. You have no idea what you are doing to me.”

Desire laces through his voice, making your lower part catch on fire. Oh, how bad you wish you weren’t behind this building but home, in your bed, with no clothes on.

You tilt your head, your lips gently brushing against his arm, he smells like some kind of sweet cologne that you like so much. Pressing your lips to the inside of his arm you lightly suck on the thin skin, earning a satisfied moan from him, but it also throws him off the edge, dropping his hands to your waist and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

One of his hands travel up to the back of your head, holding you in place while the other wanders down to your butt, rolling your skirt up so his palm is touching your skin instead of the fabric of the dress. You blindly pray no one is around to see this, you wouldn’t want anyone else to see your almost bare butt but on the other hand you just don’t want him to stop.

The sound of a bike approaching makes you push him away, afraid it’s coming near you. You quickly roll your skirt back down, just in time. A redhead guy appears on a bike, similar to Shawn’s. You’ve seen him before, he is one of Shawn’s friends for sure, but his face is making your stomach churn, the expression is making you want to run because you are sure he has bad news.

“Brian, what are you doing here?” Shawn asks, one arm around you protectively. You hug his waist, eyeing the guy with suspicion.

“You need to come. Wade and his rats are at Connor’s, they are saying one of us beat Wade’s nephew up last night.”

“What?” Shawn snaps. “Everyone was at yours last night, it couldn’t be us.”

The mentioning of Wade Salazar makes you sick to the stomach. The guy is a walking criminal record, spent at least five years in prison by the time he turned twenty-five, the police has been trying to catch him for good for so long, but somehow he always slips out of their hands for the big stuff. The most serious thing they could convict him of is drug trading, but somehow he managed to get away with most of the stuff even in that case. You always knew Shawn is rivals with him, but you refused to think about him getting involved with such a monster as him.

“Yeah, try telling that to Wade,” Brian scoffs. “We need you, he wants to talk to you.”

“Don’t go!” you find yourself saying it before you could hold yourself back.

You feel Brian’s burning gaze on you, but you ignore it, only focusing on Shawn and his clenching jaw.

“Give us a sec,” he tells to the redhead and pulls you a bit farther from his friend.

“Shawn, please don’t go,” you beg, feeling the tears dwelling in your eyes. Something in you is just screaming to make you stop him.

“I have to. These guys are like my brothers. Wade wants to talk to me and if I don’t go he’ll rip off Connor’s place.”

You can see the guilt in his eyes and you know he would rather stay with you, but he is also too protective over his friends and there is nothing you can do about that.

“It’ll be alright, okay? I’ll smooth it out, no fight involved. I’ll be at your place by the time you get home.”

“You promise?” A hot tear runs down your cheek and his thumb catches it right before it could reach your jawline. He kisses you hard, holding your face between his palms as you grab a fistful of his shirt in your hands.

“I promise,” he whispers kissing your forehead before letting you go.

You watch him jog over to his bike, your knees are shaking as you see him get on it and start the engine. He glances in your direction one more time, giving you a promising smile as you try not to sob, before he and Brian roll out of the parking lot and disappear from your sight.

“Woah, you look like shit,” Rosie grimaces at you when you come back from your break.

“Thanks for the support,” you mumble. You managed make the signs of crying disappear from your face, but you are definitely not feeling better.

“What did the fucker do to you?” she asks, ready to go full tiger mode on anyone.

“Nothing. Can we just… work?” you request tiredly and probably for the first time ever, Rosie just nods without a word.

The rest of your shift feels like hell. You keep checking your phone if there is anything from Shawn and you find yourself staring at the door many times, hoping to see him walk in, but nothing happens. Thankfully Rosie decides not to question you about Shawn on the way home, she just hugs you goodbye, telling you to call her if you want company when she gets off the bus.

When you turn the corner and start walking down your street your stomach drops when there is no sight of Shawn or his bike anywhere near. As your last string of hope you pray he is inside, he just didn’t come with the bike this time though you know it’s impossible.

Opening the door the only thing you see is darkness. Gordon welcomes you with a lazy meow from the couch as he lifts his head up for your arrival. You can’t stop the tears from flowing as you shut the door behind you and collapse on the couch. Grabbing a pillow you bury your face into it, trying to suffocate your desperate sobs as Gordon sniffs you worriedly, not really knowing what you are doing. You reach to scratch his head gently as he stares down at you as if he is questioning if you are alright.

But you are not. Shawn promised to be here and he failed to show up again. It’s breaking your heart ten times harder than last time and you just don’t know what to do with the situation anymore.

Minutes pass by, your sobs come to a halt as you sit in the dark without moving, staring at the same spot on the floor. You know you won’t be able to sleep tonight not knowing where he is or if he is alright. Last time when he didn’t come you just gave up, but you don’t feel like you can do that again. You have to do something, you can’t just sit around and see if he ever shows up again.

You are going to find out where this Connor guy lives and go there yourself. Tonight.

[sarahghetti]

call me in the morning [part one]

Series Summary: One year after the death of his wife, Barry has just begun to piece his life back together. Then, his superpowered doppelganger shows up, kidnaps him, impersonates him, and mistakenly brings him and Detective West to this so-called “Earth-1.” 

As if it couldn’t get any more complicated, in this world -

You’re still alive.

Part One: E2!Barry is reminded of the past and finds it staring back at him.

We used to walk in the night, watch the city lights changing Now I look in your eyes and feel like a stranger

Word Count: 3334

Warnings: Major character death (it’s you. you’re the dead wife)

A/N: an e2!barry/e1!barry x reader and uhhh this ain’t a happy one yall. perspective will alternate between e1!barry, e2!barry, and the reader, so keep on the lookout for the subheadings to know who we’re following!

E2!Barry

All things considered—Barry’s having an awful day.

He’d slept through his alarm, scrambled into work with his sweater inside-out, spilt coffee all over his desk. An intern had misplaced his case files the night before, leaving him to reorganize his entire cabinet for the first (late) hour. Then, just when he thought he had survived the worst of it all—a momentary power outage had interrupted his assay, forcing him to restart the analysis.

Oh, and there was another Zoom attack.

The name still sends chills down his spine. Barry’s mouth dries up at the mention, fingers rapidly twisting his wedding band as he rides out the fear and panic. Captain Singh had dismissed him from working on any case involving that speedster, that monster, after the incident, but that doesn’t stop the other officers at the CCPD from talking about Zoom when they think he isn’t listening. If anything, the pitying looks and sudden silences when he makes his presence known is somehow worse.

No one dares to bring it up. There had been the initial shock once everyone caught wind of the verified casualties that day, the not-so-subtle glances his way when Singh went down the list. Barry remembers everything in that moment—he had been standing near the back of the group, by the doorway leading out to the main atrium. You had picked out his bowtie that morning, a deep navy blue to match his grey blazer, pecked him on the lips before he left for work.

And Singh had read out your name. Softly. Carefully. Let the syllables roll off his tongue and be eased by the air and yet, they still echoed across the room. Barry remembers repeating it over and over ever since you said yes, testing out his last name in relation to you; he had loved how it sounded but now didn’t know how he’d bear to be called Allen when you were gone.

The last thing you said to him was be safe.

“You don’t have to do this,” Iris murmurs.

He’s crouching in the midst of a burnt down department store, carefully collecting samples of the ash and soot. Pointedly ignoring her, Barry seals the plastic bag and adds it to the rest inside his briefcase. Scans the footprints in the ground, makes a mental note that Zoom had accompanied Firestorm after the storefront came down.

There’s a pressure on his shoulder and he jumps, flinching back to see Iris’ hand hovering in the space between them. “Barry, really, I’m sure we can get someone else on this if you want.”

They really can’t. Three of their CSIs are sick with the flu, the others swamped with a backlog of tests. With, admittedly, the highest calibre and most experience in the field—Barry is the only one left.

Reporters clamber behind the barricades, microphones pointed in his direction for a statement. It’s the same thing every time—an attack, a promise made to stop Zoom, not being able to stop Zoom, repeat ad infinitum. Iris is about to continue but another officer waves her over, and Barry doesn’t try to stop her from leaving. Barely glances her way at all before he gathers his things to deliver another hopeful message to the people in order to prevent total and utter desperation.

“We will stop Zoom,” Barry says, his eyes locked with the camera. Immediately, he feels claustrophobic. He had had enough with the media after that list of victims was released to the public, his decline to comment spun into a Greek tragedy in the news. There’s a lump in his throat as he hastily excuses himself to leave, knuckles white around the handle of his bag.

He’s too focused on making it back to the station to react when something, someone grabs his upper arms. The streets around him start to blur. Wind presses his glasses painfully against the bridge of his nose. Barry opens his mouth to say something when his feet hit solid ground again, the inertia rocking his body forward.

The first thing he feels is fear. Wonders if Zoom has finally come for him too, finally decided that he was too meddlesome to have on the CCPD’s side. The thought of you in this same position makes him sick to his stomach.

Barry turns around and deduces swiftly that if he’s in danger, it’s not from anything he already knows about. It’s an office, large and well-kept. Likely for someone important. There’s an awards shelf to his left and monitors line the walls all around him. His gaze falls on the three figures in front of him and he nearly thinks he’s dreaming.

He doesn’t recognize one of the men. The other, well—meeting Harrison Wells had always been on his bucket list; you had looked at that line and claimed that Harrison Wells should be excited to meet him.

Then there’s him.

And it is him. It’s a Barry Allen with his hair styled the other way, glasses missing from his face. His jaw clamps shut with all the frustration and pain he’d felt that day and it takes everything in him to not walk out of the room. “What is going on here?”

Dr. Wells ignores him, turning to his duplicate. “Allen, what are you doing?”

“Hey!” Barry shouts, scowling. Their heads snap to attention. “I am this close to just leaving unless someone cares to tell me what’s happening right now.”

“Wow, this you is a dick,” the unknown man mumbles under his breath, earning himself a glare.

Dr. Wells steps forward. “Listen, Mr. Allen—”

“Dr.,” he snaps, if only to assert some control over the situation.

“Dr. Allen, I assure you that everything is under control. Allow me to welcome you to S.T.A.R. Labs.” Wells opens his arms, gesturing around the room. “Obviously this isn’t the most ideal way of getting you here, but, desperate times.”

His eyes narrow. “What do you need me for?”

“Well, you see,” Dr. Wells steps around his desk and Barry makes the mistake of tracking his movement.

Because the next thing he feels is a sharp pain in his torso, his muscles contracting all at once, and his vision goes black.

-

When Barry wakes up, his legs are bent at awkward angles and the ache in his neck is killing him. There’s an impressive crack as he stretches it out, but there’s resistance when he moves to sweep the hair out from his eyes.

“Are you kidding me?” The handcuffs restraining his hand to the wall jingle mockingly as he slumps his shoulders. He’s also been changed into different clothes, but thankfully his wedding band remains untouched. “Hello! Hey! Is anyone there? I swear when I get out of here…”

He tugs his hand uselessly. Looking around, he’s been put in some sort of utility closet, but nothing around him looks promising to aid in an escape.

The door swings open and silhouetted in white light is Dr. Wells and the same man from before. Barry clenches his jaw.

“Are you with Zoom?” If Harrison Wells, the man he’s looked up to ever since he was a kid, has been working with Zoom this whole time—he’s going to lose it.

“Am I with Zoom—don’t be insane.” Dr. Wells unceremoniously unlocks his handcuff, discarding the key somewhere on a shelf. He doesn’t spare him a glance before leading him out into a main office space.

“How long was I in there for?”

“Barely a day,” Dr. Wells shrugs.

Barry laughs bitterly. “‘Barely a day.’ Don’t be too sorry about it.”

“You need to leave,” He insists, but Barry steps in his path.

“Not before you tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Barry, it’s a really long story—”

“Ramon, there is no time—”

As if on cue, an alarm goes off, and the screens around them flash red with an alert. Dr. Wells freezes, lips parting.

“He’s here,” he murmurs. Barry doesn’t have to ask who he’s talking about.

Zoom is here, Zoom is here. The blood runs cold in his veins. Iris was right—he’s not ready to face this, face him. His knees are on the verge of giving out when Dr. Wells grabs both men by the collar, dragging them down a corridor. “We need to go.”

Barry doesn’t try to fight him. Drags his feet across the floor before they stop at some random strip of hallway, can’t find the strength to react when part of the panelling slides open to reveal a secret room.

He’s pulled to the far end and nearly collapses against the wall. His breath comes in short bursts, his mind blanking as he gets more and more lightheaded. The other man—Ramon—grabs him by the upper arms, and frowns. Barry’s shaking like a leaf.

A vibrating, gloved hand shoots through the wall of the secret room and he nearly faints on the spot. Ramon presses his hand against his mouth to muffle his incoherent rambling, but Zoom is as terrifying as he’s ever been. Blue lightning crests off his body, his inhuman eyes scanning the area. A low rumbling comes from his chest and Barry swears that he’s looking right at him.

Then, he leaves just as fast as he entered.

Ramon lets him go but he still can’t breathe, clutching helplessly at his chest. That vibrating hand—he’s seen that trick before. Done to civilians, to his colleagues, to his friends, to you. Iris had told him that he shouldn’t watch the security footage from that day, but Barry couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing what happened to you and now—

Did it hurt? Did Zoom know who you were, targeted you specifically because of him? His chest is tightened so much that he feels as though a thousand-pound weight was pressing down on it. His ring is painful around his finger.

Zoom killed you. Drove his hand through your chest like it was nothing.

Wouldn’t have hesitated to kill them, too.

“We need to move.” Dr. Wells already starts his way towards the exit, Ramon beside him. “We need to find a different place to hide and make a plan.”

“No.”

His voice is so weak that he doesn’t know if he’d made a sound at all. They turn around to face him and Ramon’s face softens into concern. “Barry, you okay?”

“No, no—no, I can’t—” Barry gasps for air and Ramon places his hands on his shoulders, steadying him. “I can’t go against Zoom. Please don’t make me go against Zoom.”

Ramon shoots a helpless look at Dr. Wells. He sighs, slings the gun over his shoulder. “You’re one of, if not, the best crime scene investigator in the city, Dr. Allen. We need your help.”

“You don’t understand, I—” Barry’s eyes start to water and he grinds his teeth to stop his voice from trembling.

“Zoom”—he flinches at the name—“has my daughter. I don’t know where. I don’t know if she’s still alive.” Dr. Wells’ gaze is steady and determined, but Barry can see the worry underneath it all. “So let me rephrase that. I need your help.”

We’ll lose. Barry bites back the words, instead nodding mutely. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “We can go to my lab in the CCPD; you can explain everything on the way.”

They switch off on the storytelling. Another world. Another Flash.

Joe is dead.

During it all, Barry can see their glances at him through the mirrors but refuses to make eye contact, fumbling with his hands. He can’t handle anything more right now.

“Barry!” Iris calls out as they walk out of the elevator. “I didn’t think you were coming into work today. Are you sure you want to be here?”

“No,” he responds flatly and makes his way up to the lab without looking back. Every step he takes fills him with dread.

Barry slumps into his chair, letting them find their own places to settle down in. He rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes as Cisco—Cisco and Harry, they had properly introduced themselves in the car—tells a shortened version of their story to Iris.

“So that’s why you weren’t wearing your wedding ring yesterday.” Barry swallows thickly and nods.

“They want your help to find Zoom,” he explains. Hopes that Iris can come up with some miraculous solution to this problem so he doesn’t have to. “He has Harry’s daughter and their Barry.”

Iris’ words are quieter now. “I’ve done everything I could to try and track him down. The only person who would know where he would be hiding someone would be a meta that’s worked with him.”

“Like Killer Frost?”

“Even if you could get her to help us, finding her would be just as hard as finding Zoom,” she states. “But, if anyone can do it…”

Iris lets the sentence hang in the air. Barry shakes his head, takes off his glasses to dig palms into his eyes. “You know I can’t.”

“What is your problem with Zoom?” Harry asks, crossing his arms. “It’s not a general dislike nor anger at his actions you feel—what did he do to you?”

Cisco raises a hand to stop him. He takes a slow step forwards. “Barry—our Barry—was torn up about something last night, but he wouldn’t tell us what.”

“Yeah, I can imagine why,” he mutters. Barry stands up, walks over to his desk to where papers are strewn about the surface but he knows what he’s looking for.

Framed beside his monitor, you’re beaming at him from in front of the camera. Neon lights from the carnival colour your hair; if Barry had been a little further, he would have gotten the teddy bear you had just won in the shot as well. He twists his ring.

“Last year, Zoom attacked the city square. It had been a few months since we last saw him, so some people started to believe that he was gone for good,” Barry exhales shakily. “Too much hope, he called it.”

Iris’ hands are folded tightly on her lap. Harry and Cisco shift to see what Barry’s looking at. There’s a quiet gasp.

“My wife was on her way to work. She loved that route because whenever she had spare change in her pocket, she’d make a wish in the fountain. Said that it had come true when I came home safe that day.

“Then Zoom showed up. Told the world to remember that we were at his mercy.” There’s rustling behind him, a hushed conversation that Barry can’t quite pick up aside from a firm: not a word, Ramon. “She was gone before the CCPD even got there.”

“What was her name?” Harry asks.

“Y/N.” Barry smiles sadly when he says your name. “She was the best person I’ve ever known.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Harry comes to stand beside him, averts his eyes from the photo of the person he spoke to not forty-eight hours ago. “My wife was a force of nature. Smarter than me, more cunning, more charismatic.”

He knows the story; the death of Tess Morgan had been covered all over the news when it happened. For the first time since Barry’s met him, Harry has a shadow of happiness on his face.

“No matter how much time goes by, we never really stop thinking about them, do we?”

Barry sighs. His heart still aches, but for now, at least, it’s motivation. “I can locate Killer Frost. Just… give me a minute.”

-

“Get out of here.”

Iris presses a hand on his shoulder, urging Barry forwards. Jesse and Cisco are beside him as they make their way to the entrance, but he can’t help to look back at Killer Frost—her hands outstretched, freezing Zoom to the floor of the cavern. He remembers her expression when the name Ronnie was said, the clench of her jaw.

Zoom killed him, too.

When they get back to S.T.A.R. Labs, Harry immediately starts scrambling for supplies. The others prepare to travel back through the breach they came through and Iris shoots him a look, a helpless shake of her head. What happens to them now?

“You guys need to get out of Central City, alright? Any place you think you’ll be safe from Zoom?” The other Barry walks up to them.

“We have some friends in Atlantis that can—”

The alarm goes off again. Barry’s blood runs cold and Iris grabs his arm. “We need to go.”

“We can’t,” he realizes, dread washing over him. “Zoom is faster than us, stronger than us. We’ll never make it out of the city, much less the building.”

“What are you saying?”

He tries to speak but nothing comes out. Barry turns towards his doppelganger, who nods empathetically in understanding.

“You have to come with us.”

“Just like that? Barry”—she steps in front of him, holds his gaze—”we can’t leave Zoom to terrorize our world.”

“You stay here and you won’t live to save it,” Harry states. Nods towards them. “Dr. Allen is right.”

He doesn’t want to be. For all the horrors and pain and devastation Barry’s been through, this is his home. Where he grew up, went to school, met and married you. He swallows down his nerves. “Let’s go.”

First Cisco and Jesse, then him. When he emerges to the other side, the first thing he hears is someone calling his name, arms extending to pull him away from the breach.

Iris is looking up at him, worried, but—it’s not her. She’s out of uniform and her hair cascades unusually over her shoulders. A quick glance around sees a woman who looks suspiciously like Killer Frost, and—

“Joe?” He murmurs, dazed. The man claps his shoulder and brings him into a hug.

“You’re going to have to tell me everything that happened, later,” Joe flicks his glasses for emphasis and he recoils.

“I’m—I’m not—”

The energy warps and phases behind him. Iris, his Iris, comes out. The other Barry follows behind with Harry in tow.

“Close it! Close it now!” Confusion sweeps across the room as eyes fall between him and his doppelganger, but Cisco is fast and throws a device at the breach.

What happens next is a blur to him; the Flash from his earth is there, then, isn’t, as Zoom reaches through to pull him back to their world. Someone screams, a hand pushing him behind them. Footsteps come running into the room.

“I saw what happened—is everyone okay?”

Barry stops breathing.

He knows that voice. Heard it say good morning and goodnight nearly everyday for the best years of his life; I love you and I do. He wants to turn around. Wants to see your face and smile again, hear your laugh. There are so many things he didn’t get to tell you that it hurts him to think about it.

But Barry’s dreamed of this for so long that he fears that it’s just his mind playing tricks. That this whole experience of doppelgangers and other worlds has just been one huge dream that he’ll wake up from at any moment now. He also knows that, logically, you aren’t his Y/N. You might not like or love him like you did in the other world. Might barely know him to begin with.

All of that gets pushed aside when he turns around.

“Y/N?”

His voice is barely above a whisper. You’re as beautiful as he remembers and he chides himself for ever thinking that all those photographs could ever do you justice. His eyes well up. Barry wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms again, and the only thing stopping him is the last scrap of rationality he has left, as weak as how he’s felt for the past year.

“You’re alive.”