#Wally if he knew how to make jokes: “No I blinked it out of existence” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

paperwayne · 5 years

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if you insist.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”➡ 7. Lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise.

Pairing: YJ!Wally West x Reader

Word Count: 1,137 words

Warnings: None

The front door slams, accompanied by the groan of a dying walrus. You look up just as Wally drags himself into the living room and flops onto the couch.

"Ughhh."

"’Ughhh’ what?"

The boy tilts his head back on the couch cushion to look up at you tiredly, answering you with another ungodly groan. His legs dangle over the armrest as he pushes his shoes off with his feet, which drop to the floor with a dull clatter.

“Bad day at the secret lair, Sneakers?” you ask wryly, prodding his forehead with your pencil eraser.

He sighs loudly. "Mandatory training sucks," he tells you miserably, eyes screwing shut. "Black Canary totally whipped my ass today. And not in a good way."

"Aw, I'm sorry."

You place your pencil down and reach over to pat his shoulder. The boy practically basks in your touch, humming pleasantly as he squirms to get more comfortable; when you feel his muscles flexing underneath his shirt you nearly falter.

(Right. Sometimes you forget how strong Wally is becoming. Sometimes you think that he’s still the scrawny, dorky kid that stole your glitter glue in first grade, and then things like this happen and he’s suddenly taller and faster and muscular and … well, a hero.)

“Y’know, this would be a hundred times better if I had maybe two or ten of your aunt’s amazing cookies right now.”

(But somehow still incredibly dorky.)

“Nice try. We’re all out.” After a few more seconds of indulging, you pull back and let a smirk spread across your face when he opens his eyes. "You know, I thought you’d gotten used to the defeat by now."

Wally’s blissful smile morphs into a pout. "Hush, you," he grumbles, poking your leg. "I save lives."

"And my AP Chem grade. Which, by the way, is why you're here in the first place. So chop, chop, man."

"I'm injured!" he exclaims, arms waving and nearly hitting you in the face. "Lemme rest for a sec. I have bruises in places I never even knew existed before now."

"Gross.”

But now that he’s mentioned it ...

You give in to curiosity and glance at his arms. Long sleeves. It really isn’t surprising; Wally’s always worn them underneath his shirts at school when the bruises were too heavy to fade away quickly, and no one’s really paid any mind. On the rare occasion of being asked why he has a sweater on in June, you’ve always backed his excuse that he looks good in long sleeves (or as he once said, “sexy,” even though you told him that sexy’s probably not the best word because he was sweating buckets outside) – both because of necessity and because it’s true.

Of course, there’s no reason for him to hide them right now. Turning your attention back to his face, you raise an eyebrow at him when he stares back with That Look.

"What, want me to kiss it better or something?”

A grin splits his face. You roll your eyes, trying and failing to resist the contagiousness of it.

"Why, if you insist, babe,” he purrs, swinging his legs over the armrest and scooting over until his side is flush with yours. "If you do that I'll heal in no time."

You know what’s going to happen before it does. His head leans in close, and his breath hits your jaw – and just like that, your heart jumps in your chest.

This has been happening lately. A lot. And each time, you would laugh it off; you would snort and push him away and call him a dork, like you had countless times before, and Wally would whine and push back and everything would go back to the usual banter and jokes. You would brush off his flirting, because Wally flirts with everyone, not just you.

But for some unknown reason today, you don't laugh or change the subject. Instead, you shrug and say, "Okay."

Wally's grin fades a bit. He blinks owlishly. "Wait, really?"

"Sure. Gimme your arm."

“O ... kay.”

The barest hint of pink spreads across his cheeks, freckles fading underneath the flush as he rolls up his sleeve and holds his arm out in front of you.

You purse your lips at the sight. No matter how many times you’ve seen them, these particular souvenirs of the trade always make you grimace. Several purple splotches litter the outside of his forearm down to the back of his hand, and when you accidentally press over one, Wally hisses in pain.

"Sorry," you murmur, more sincerely this time. Wally snorts, but it cuts off abruptly when you lean forward and lightly kiss the bruise on his knuckles. Your lips barely brush his skin. "Poor Wally –” another peck, this time on his forearm, "getting his ass kicked in training every day." A kiss near his elbow. “RIP.”

"H-Hey," Wally's voice is almost a croak, and you don't dare to glance at him lest you lose your nerve, "it's not every day … Just today." A second of hesitation. “I-I mean, it could be every day, if you did that. Every day.”

I wish I could. God, Wally, don’t just say stuff like that.

“… If you say so, speedster.” The heat already traveling to your face increases tenfold and you swallow roughly, plastering on an awkward smile and letting go of his arm. His gaze locks onto you, almost palpable, as you pluck up your pencil once again.

When you resume writing, Wally’s brow furrows.

“So does that mean you’re. Like. Cool? With that?”

“Cool with ...?”

“Y’know.” He scratches the back of his head. “With the – with what I just said. About the ... kissing ... and stuff.”

The scribbling of your pencil halts completely. Your eyes widen, mind on the verge of blanking out. “O-Oh,” you say. “Oh, wait, you were – you were serious about that?”

“Well, y – I mean, are you serious?”

You glance at him. He’s still staring, but this time it’s with an earnestness you can’t explain away. Your response is painfully awkward and painfully genuine. “Yeah.”

“So am I.”

“Okay.” You nod slowly. “That’s good.”

“Awesome.”

Wally leans back into the couch, falling silent for once, as do you.

Your watch beeps. Licking your lips with the faintest smile on them, you swivel your head back down to look at your textbook, copying down another formula. Next to you, Wally inhales deeply and you think that he's leaning just a little bit more into your side.

That Look returns as you reach down for your flashcards. "So ...” you start despite the sudden distraction, shuffling the cards as nonchalantly as you can, “um, you feel rested enough to start studying, Wally?"

"[Y/n]?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I can feel a bruise forming on my lips too."

[50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You” prompt list (requests using this prompt list are openCLOSED)]

#wordless ways to say i love you #source: @50-item-writing-prompts #wally west x reader #wally west imagine #wally west #young justice #yj #young justice imagine #kid flash x reader #kid flash #dc #dc fanfic #reader insert #fanfic #romance #best friends to lovers #this trope is the love of my life #black canary

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zombiesbecrazy · 5 years

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rushing headfirst at top speed

Summary: He was back in the Speed Force, back in the bright and flashing void that he had been trapped in for an impossible amount of time, stuck between timelines, struggling to keep up and not be lost into oblivion.

AO3

(takes place during the Titans 2016 issues 15-18 arc)

Everything was tilting sideways and fading to black, thoughts quickly disappearing and yet slowly grinding to a halt all at the same time.

“Couldn’t… let y-you… die…” Wally gasped, words halted as he clutched his chest, dizziness overtaking him as he fell to his knees. It felt like he was being electrocuted from the inside out instead of the other way around, and all of his organs were burning up in a painful way that he couldn’t have imagined in any universe, and he had been struck by lightning as a kid before he had his powers.

Now he has gone too fast, much too fast, rewinding time to save Dick, just by a few seconds but it was enough. His pacemaker was fried and now...

“Wally! Wally, No!” Dick’s voice was strung tight, and Wally wanted to comfort him, tell him that everything would be okay, maybe make a joke to make him smile, but his mind and consciousness were like a sieve and he could only smile weakly as he closed his eyes for the final time. He could hear Dick's scream, but he couldn't do anything about it.

He was going to die, but it was fine. Good even, going out the way he did. Saving Dick was worth it. The world needed Nightwing. The Titans and Bats needed Dick. It was worth it. No one remembered or needed Wally in the same way, not in the way that it had before Flashpoint had wiped everything away.

His best friend was going to live because of what he had done and would do it again if he had the chance for a do over.

Worth it. Totally worth it.

He could feel the moment that he died. The moment when the searing pain subsided and he could breathe fully again, which was strange because why should he have to breathe when he was dead? He could tell that his body was gone, that his consciousness was floating on its own, but he still felt like he could feel it from the tips of his toes to the hair flowing in the breeze. He was filled with a peacefulness, knowing that he had done the right thing, interfering the way that he had. Maybe it was the entire reason that he had come back in the first place. Maybe this was what everything had been building to. A great master plan of sorts.

He hadn’t felt so at peace since Barry had pulled him out of the Speed Force months ago.

That was until he opened his eyes and saw a familiar swirling light, rushing past in him rainbow colours, that made him want to throw up. He shut his eyes, squeezed them tight, praying as hard as he could to any potential god, being or power how could possibly listen. Any moment of serenity evaporated into a void of nothingness.

No. Not this. Anything but this.

He cracked his eyes open again, hoping that something had changed but nothing had, lights travelling faster and faster past him or perhaps it was the other way around; he had never been able to figure it out after all his time there. This was hell. This had to be hell. His own personal hell, precisely tailored for the thing that he feared most in his existence because he was dead and there was no other way that this is where he had ended up otherwise.

Dead. Not dead. Maybe dead. Whatever his living status was he knew exactly where he was. This wasn't hell. He was back in the Speed Force, back in the bright and flashing void that he had been trapped in for an impossible amount of time, stuck between timelines, struggling to keep up and not be lost into oblivion.

Wally wanted to take it back. He wanted to take it all back because he couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t be trapped with no way to get out, all alone for infinity and beyond. Not again.

He started to scream, because there was nothing else that he could do.

Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me all alone again. Not here. Anywhere but here notherenopleasedontleavemehereihateithereimscaredofbeingtrappedalonethespeedforceagain

The thoughts were racing in circles, round and round they went, driving him to simultaneously hyperventilate and forget to breathe entirely as he screamed himself hoarse and just kept going. He couldn’t do it again. His body was dead but his mind was trapped in the Speed Force. It was going to break him this time.

He had no idea how long he wailed for, trapped in the void of his own personal torture when something started to change.

There was a warmth that started in his chest, where the pain had been when he had died. It was a dull feeling at first, but it grew hotter and hotter, spreading outwards until it was filling everyone of his disembodied molecules.

It was pleasant, but somehow still felt like he was dying all over again. Could he die again in the Speed Force? Wally decided that he didn’t care because anything would be better than being trapped there for a second longer. He would take anything over screaming into the void forever, so he relaxed and let himself fall into the feeling of warmth that was over taking him.

Where ever it took him would be fine with him as long as he could breathe normally again.

There was a painful shock and he jolted up, back in his body, sitting on the ground in the HIVE headquarters in Delaware, fight going on around him. It seemed so long ago to him, years, but it had been mere minutes if he had to guess based on what was going on, his friends knee deep in battle, fighting for their lives again people who had come through a portal.

Arms behind him helped to prop him up and Wally had to blink a few times to clear his head to figure out who it was. “Kid Flash?” Wallace hugged him tight before coming around to crouch in front of him, eyes and hands looking over him, making sure that Wally was unharmed after previously being dead.

Wallace’s eyes were wet, and Wally could feel that he was trembling with relief as his hands checked out Wally. “I could feel you through the Force, so I came. You were dead.” Wallace whispered, more to himself than actually to Wally. “I… uh… jump started you?” He looked at Wally like he was a miracle, disbelieving that the leap of faith that he had taken had somehow worked.

“Like a car?” asked Wally, still confused but glad as hell that he still wasn’t trapped. He couldn’t have stayed there forever. There is no way that he would have been able to. He rubbed his chest carefully, where Wallace’s hands had been. The pain that he had felt for the longest time, the heart problems that he had been having seemed to have vanished. What had Wallace done to him? “With Speed Force booster cables?”

“I used my hands as defibulators.”

“Sounds fake, but alright.” Wally pulled Wallace into a tight hug clinging to him in thanks in a way that no amount of words would ever be able to. He had risked his life for Wally and they barely knew each other. How had he not known him before? How had such a kid not existed in the previous timeline? Bart was great, and Wally missed him like crazy, but Wallace was wide eyed and excited like Wally had used to be and he saw a lot of himself in him. “You are completely my favourite cousin right now.”

Hugging him back just as tight, Wallace laughed. “Aren’t I your only cousin?”

“Details. You alright, Kid?” Wally pulled away and Wallace nodded, but he looked a little drained. Wally glanced back towards the fight that seemed to still be building around them. Things had gotten worse in the minutes of eternity that he had been dead; Mal and Gnaark still fighting with Nightwing and Garth, possessed by Psimon, but the leader who wasn’t there before Wally had died was hitting Donna blow for blow, rising up bigger and stronger with each hit. Something click in Wally’s brain and it registered what was happening. He knew that stance anywhere. “Is Donna beating up... Donna over there?” What had happened when he was dead? Why were there two Donna’s? Whatever it was, he was back now, and had to fix things.

No rest for the newly resurrected.

“Yeah. I’m not sure what’s going on but apparently it’s a whole thing. Cape Donna seems like a real jerk.”

“We need to get in there, fast.” Wallace helped Wally get to his feet, a little unsteady but getting better by the second. He could push through. He always pushed through. “Two Wally West’s are better than one. Especially when they are both alive. Let’s do this.”

Silver and gold lightning sparked through the air and they took off at top speed, rushing headfirst into the fray.

Just as Flashes did.

#whumptober2019 #no.17 #wally west #wallace west #a smidge of dick grayson #titans

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cakeandpi · 5 years

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(some other unfinished, unpolished stuff, featuring artemis and kaldur and candles, but not the romantic kind)

---

The day after she joins the team, a storm surges across Happy Harbor and takes out the power the Cave. Kaldur mutters something about circuit breakers and leaves the group, while Robin hunts down flashlights. M’gann immediately claps her hands and gets far too excited about telling ghost stories. Wally tries to say something about not needing to be scared while he’s around - Artemis elbows him and he doubles over dramatically. “Oh no, M’gann, I think I need medical help.” He gasps, and Artemis rolls her eyes.

Kaldur returns - the circuit breakers have been tripped, but flipping them hasn’t fixed anything. “Weird that the generators didn’t kick in.” Robin muses, flicking on a flashlight and setting it on the floor, pointing it at the ceiling so they could all see.

Artemis folds her arms. “I am not going into some dark basement, I know how these sorts of stories end.”

“What stories?” M’gann asks, eyes wide. Artemis turns to Conner for help, who just shrugs. She doesn’t know what she really expected, in retrospect.

“Just bad horror stories, mostly.” Artemis says at last. She blinks as Kaldur sets something down beside the flashlight.

“A candle? Can’t you see in the dark what with being part fish?” Wally asks. Then yelps as Artemis elbows him again, less gently than before.

She scowls at Wally. “Don’t be rude.”

“Yes, I thought it would be nice.” Kaldur answers Wally’s question with more patience than Artemis feels it deserves. “Though I suppose the flashlights are more practical.”

“Well, I like the idea! Can we light it?” M’gann asks. “I’ve only ever seen this on TV.”

Robin returns - Artemis squints at him; how had she not noticed him leaving? - with matches and lights it. Taking the flashlight, he points it at his face and says, “Sure thing Miss M. And now, why don’t we tell stories? It is a dark and stormy night, after all.”

---

Years later, Artemis “dies” and Tigress takes her place. She kisses Wally goodbye, lingering because while she’s made the decision to back Kaldur up, she also doesn’t want to go. “I’ll be fine.” She whispers between kisses. “Try not to worry too much.” She doesn’t tell him to not worry at all because she knows that’s a useless request.

“I love you,” He tells her. Then, “You should go,” and she knows how hard it must have been for him to say that, because she knows how hard it is for her to actually go.

She shoulders her bag and follows Kaldur out of the building, pulling her new mask down over her face. The Manta flyer waits out in the bay, and it doesn’t smell like blood but the metallic scent of it fills her nose anyway.

---

The training session ends early, when her sparring partner gets violently sick. Tigress escorts them to the infirmary, listening to their assurances of being all right, they just ate something bad. She hums in non-commital agreement and doesn’t say a thing about how she’s all but carrying them down the hall.

After dropping them off, she returns to the quarters she and Kaldur share. It’s not until after she closes the door that the scene before her actually registers and she freezes. Kaldur, too, freezes, eyes wide and something like apprehension in his face. It takes her longer than she likes to think about to find something to say. “Doesn’t that hurt?” She asks, finally, gesturing weakly at him.

“Only a little.” He admits. The candle in his hand isn’t lit, but it obviously had been, given the wax dripping from it onto his arm. Artemis makes herself stop staring and goes to stow her gear, as if she had simply caught Kaldur reading or something equally innocuous. A door closes hastily; when she looks, Kaldur’s absent and she can hear water running in the tiny bathroom adjoining their quarters.

Leaning her forehead against the wall, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply. Whatever that was, it isn’t any of her business. Not as long as their mission isn’t jeopardized.

---

She’s not really sure how long it is after Wally’s ceasing. She knows it’s some amount of time, because it’s someone different spending time with her each day. M’gann brings her a ridiculous amount of food, and at any other time Artemis might have joked about stress baking. But for now all she can do is smile wearily at her.

Dinah makes her go to her house to eat dinner with her and Ollie and that is the weirdest, most awkward dinner Artemis has had in a long, long time, and she doesn’t want to repeat that experience.

Dick visits, and that one ends in a shouting match because things weren’t supposed to turn out like this. Maybe one day she’ll apologize for some of the things she said. Maybe not. Roy brings her beer and they get drunk and belligerent and shout at the world inside her tiny new apartment (because she can’t stay in the one she and Wally had shared, she just can’t). She vaguely remembers her neighbors banging on her door and something about noise complaints.

Even Kaldur takes a turn in babysitting her. Given that he’s somehow talked her into going outside, on a walk, like some sort of normal person who didn’t have their boyfriend just zap out of existence, she’s glad that’s after she’s mostly recovered from her hangover.

And that if she has to have company she’s glad that it’s Kaldur, because she’s tired of being angry and tired of being sad and tired of having to put up a front. Kaldur might have opinions if she acts weird, but he’d at least keep it to himself unless she hurt herself or him.

Speaking of -

“Can I ask you something that really isn't any of my business?” She blurts out.

She can almost feel his hesitation. “I cannot promise an answer,” he warns.

“It's about your candle. Thing.” She says before she can think better of what she’s asking. “Why do that?”

He's quiet for so long that she thinks he's not going to answer. The ground crunches under their feet, dry brittle grass and gravel and dirt. “Stress relief.” He says at last.

“Huh.” She rolls that over in her mind. She doesn't get it. “Think most people's go to for stress relief is sex.”

Kaldur snorts. “Have to like that for that to be an option.”

She starts and stares at him, flabbergasted. “And you don't?” She asks, as if there was any other way to interpret his statement.

He glances at her, then away, as if he's uncomfortable, and it belatedly dawns on her that she’s asking about Kaldur’s sex life, heaven help her. “It's not… quite that. But it's …” He shrugs, as if that should explain it. And it should, she’s just got a bad case of foot-in-mouth, one that she can’t excuse with grief or her hangover. “It's just not my first choice of activity.”

“So you do candle stuff instead?” She can't see getting the same rush or release of endorphins from that. “Er. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry that much.”

Kaldur snorts, and he bumps his shoulder against hers. “It is fine, don’t worry. Just not used to talking about that stuff with anyone.”

She smiles wanly and bumps his shoulder back. “You could always tell me to fuck off, or whatever, you know. Don’t have to put up with my rude ass.”

He laughs, full bodied and head thrown back. She doesn’t stare, eyes wide with surprise, because she made Kaldur laugh like that? Wow. “Artemis, you’ve met our teammates. You’re a saint in comparison.” Her lips twitch, and she snorts and soon joins Kaldur in his laughter. It doesn’t turn to tears until later, when she’s back in her new place and alone and she has time to think about how Wally won’t ever get to hear Kaldur laugh like that.

---

It’s months later and she rejoins the team, this time in orange rather than green. She’d have come back sooner - immediately, even - but Raquel and Zatanna had sat her down and looked at her. “We aren’t going to make you talk about it, if you don’t want,” Zatanna had said.

“But you’ve been on that mission for months now, and you intend to just throw yourself right back into the fray? Do you even know how you want Tigress to operate as a hero yet?” Raquel asked, arms folded and face stern.

Artemis had wanted to argue. Had argued, even. Told them that she’d figure it out along the way, because how else did people do these things? And she might have won that argument, if it had been just one of them. But the pair of them, working in tandem against her? She found herself somehow agreeing to ease her way back to being a full-time member of the team.

From the anxious, worried looks the newer, younger members had given her the first time she ran a mission post-Wally? She still wasn’t sure if it had been a good idea.

Slowly, she found her footing again. More quickly with the older team members who knew her, not just knew of her. It helped that her old teammates treated her as they always had, letting the newer heroes pick up on their cues.

---

The mission didn't go well. The team is back all in one piece and uninjured but definitely a bit rattled. As they debrief Black Canary on the mission, Artemis keeps a watch on Kaldur from the corner of her eye. He's tense, even here at the Watchtower where it's safe, his muscles taut and his movements jerkier than normal.

When the team is dismissed, most of them disperse, going home or going out as the case may be. Home sounds good, as does a hot shower and sleeping for hours, but Kaldur worries her.

So she stays and follows him down through the hallways to his quarters. “Did you have need of something?” He asks, pausing outside his door.

“No. You're going to do that thing, right? From the undercover mission?” She jams her hands into her pockets. She shouldn’t be asking this, but she also doesn’t want to just leave knowing he’s about to go hurt himself, in private, without anyone knowing. “May I watch?”

He turns to look at her then, and she tries not to squirm under his scrutiny. His frown is intense, and it’s all she can do to not take a step back. “And if I say no?”

There’s an almost apprehensive note to his question, and Artemis realizes with a start that he’s worried about what she might do in response. “Then you say no and I go home. I'll worry, but that's my problem.” She shrugs, trying to fake an uncaring calm she doesn’t really feel. “I do complicated trick shots to de-stress, sometimes. Don't always want to be watched, cause then someone might think it’s how I usually do things. But sometimes it's fun to show off too, you know?”

His mouth quirks as if she's said something funny. “What, not sex?”

Oh. Their previous conversation about this. Her face flushes hot. “Well. That too, but it's more complicated now.”

He examines her for another moment, though what he’s looking for she can’t say. “Okay, but you're just watching. All right?” He holds open the door for her.

“All right.”

It's a lot more mundane than her imagination had built it up to be. “Actual burns are not the point,” he tells her. “It's about the sensation, not to cause harm.”

“Oh.” She knows she's a bit of an unwanted outsider here, so she does her best to make her presence unobtrusive, leaning against the far wall from where Kaldur is setting up. “But you said it does hurt some?”

“Only briefly, and only a little.” He reappears from the bathroom, dressed in sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, candle and a box of matches in hand. “And far less than blocking one of Superboy’s punches during a sparring match.” He sets it down and lights it, flicking the match out then dropping it in a nearby glass of water.

“Took so long to get him to understand what pulling a punch meant.”

“And now he’s taken charge of training our newer members.”

Artemis smiles fondly. “Remember when he was so angry about everything? But now, you actually have to genuinely work at it to get him genuinely riled up.”

“He really has come a long way. All of us have.”

“Yeah.” She ducks her head so he doesn’t see her smile waver. She doesn’t need to bring the mood down by tacking on ‘all of us that survived’. The light flickers - or rather, stops flickering - and she looks back up. He’s holding it over his outstretched arm and the wax drips out and down and onto him. Artemis swallows, watching as he slowly, bit by bit, builds up more and more wax on his arm. After a few minutes, he sets the candle down and relights it.

“The first time I did this,” he says, making her jump at the sudden break in silence, “the first time, I was thinking to test my heat tolerance.”

“Turning up the thermostat would’ve been easier.”

He graces her with a small smile. “Ah, but this was before the team formed - I lived solely in Atlantis back then. And, well. I suppose I could found a hydrothermal vent and tested my limits there. Shayeris uses some for power, but those are guarded. And beyond that, heat feels different here on the surface. More sharp.”

“Yeah?” A twinge of guilt pricks at her. “Bialya must’ve been rough.” Sure, she had only just been part of the team for a month back then, and they had all lost a full half year of their memories; she literally didn't know that she knew he existed until M'gann put the team’s memories back together. And she hadn’t realized at the time just how vulnerable Kaldur was to heat. Had believed far more in that confident, invincible aura he projected, for all that she would poke at it to, ostensibly, remind him that he was human.

“At the time, it was. Dry heats like that are … unpleasant. Though I’d call that undercover mission rougher.”

“Not the same, and you know it.” He simply hums a non-response. “So are you, like, still testing your heat tolerance or something?”

“No.” She supposes the candle’s built up enough wax to his liking because he snuffs it out once again. “No, I discovered that I… like this. I’m not sure if I can articulate why.”

This time, instead of just drops it’s one long, thin stream. He trails it down his arm and over his hand, letting it pool in his palm and drip over the webbing between his fingers. With a start, she realizes she’s moved across the room to within arm’s reach of him and she has to stop herself from touching the wax decorating his skin.

“Artemis?”

She swallows. “Um. Can I see? What it feels like?”

He pauses, then gestures for her to hold out her arm. “It cooler, the higher up it is.” He murmurs. “Your arm okay?” She nods, trying not to tense up, watching as he tilts the candle slowly to let a tiny bit drop on her skin. It flares, hot but not burning, and by the time she’s breathed in and out again it’s barely an afterthought of warmth, the wax already hardening on her arm.

“That… was not what I was expecting.” And to be honest, she hadn’t really thought about what she was expecting. Something with more bite to the heat? More pain? She steps back, picking at her arm - it peels and flakes off under her nails. “You only ever do your arms like that?”

He’s looking at her oddly. “That’s right.” He says finally.

---

“So.” Artemis scrubs her hands against her jeans nervously. They’re sitting at her dining table, and it feels smaller than it usually does with a visitor. Her entire apartment feels smaller. Not that it shouldn’t feel smaller, because this one is just meant for one person, as opposed to the one she had shared with Wally. But with Kaldur sitting across from her, hands cupped around a glass of ice water, she can feel the difference in space more acutely than usual.

She’s stalling, and that won’t help the weird nervousness prowling under her skin. “How would this work? Do we make a standing appointment or just kind of wing it or…?”

Kaldur makes a face. “I don’t know.” He admits, clearly not wanting to admit that. “I do not think, given our lives, that a regularly scheduled session would work out. For that matter, it is not something I actually do terribly often, so it may be best to play it by ear.”

She nods. “Okay, that sounds like a plan.” She exhales heavily.

---

They sit cross legged across from each other on her kitchen floor, a cheap folded up tarp beneath them, and a towel across his legs to keep his clothes safe. “Tell me if I’m not doing this right, okay?” She says, twisting a candle between her fingers. The flame on the wick flickers.

“You have to actually do something to have a chance of being wrong.” Kaldur smiles at her, amused.

She snorts. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I trust you.” He sounds so certain and confident of that. She swallows, something warm settling in her chest. “Artemis, you can hit a spot on the wall from fifty feet away regularly with barely a glance. This is simply a much easier variation on that kind of precision and control.”

“A big variation.” She mutters, but picks up the candle and blows it out. “Okay, which arm?”

“Left.” He holds it out for her obligingly.

She breathes like she does for her archery, letting the wax drop between heartbeats. Her eyes flick to his face every few moments, watching for the smallest signs of discomfort. There’s none - he’s not relaxed, per se, but neither is he tense. His gaze is fixed on his arm and what she’s doing to it. “Don’t keep it all in one spot.” He tells her after a moment.

“Oh, oh sorry.” She looks back down and aims higher up his arm.

#cake and writing tag #young justice #yj #artemis crock #artemis #aqualad #kaldur #kaldur'ahm #searrow but brotp #if i ever finish this i'll make it a proper fic on ao3 #but in the meantime let me let you guys suffer with me

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jaybirdxarsenal · 6 years

Text

Him (Wally West X Reader)

I just wanted some Wally ‘cause he’s a sweetheart.

Words: 1339

Permanent tag: @redrobynhood, @jasonsredhoodie, @fangirlnova (If you want to be tagged just let me know)

You checked the watch on your left hand and yes, it's been an hour now. You've been waiting and waiting even though you knew he won't come.

But you hoped that maybe this time it would be different, that maybe this time you will find someone and you will be finally happy like everyone around you.

"I guess it's just not meant to be." You thought trying to make yourself feel better.

You looked into the waitress' eyes as you asked her for the bill. It was just water and a glass of wine, you needed some alcohol so you won't cry in front of so many people. She was pitting you, knowing from the look on your face that someone ditched you.

"He doesn't deserves you." She told you as she handled you the bill. You just nodded, trying to keep yourself from crying in front of her. You didn't wanted to show her that you were weak, that you were hurt.

As you left the restaurant, you let the tears ran on your face as you thought how much you wanted to be that girl.

The girl who is always in the center of attention. The kind of girl who never gets a ticket for parking in a wrong spot because the cop thinks she is just too beautiful and hot for a ticket. That girl who all the boys want, the prom queen with the perfect body and the prettiest face. That kind of girl who can have everyone and everything, every time.

But that wasn't you.

You were the other girl.

The one who is always left behind when she asks her friends to wait for her. The kind of girl a boy would date only to make a favor to his best friend who wants to date one of her friends. The one who never gets invited anywhere because everyone just forgets about her existence. The ugly duck that never got to prom because no one invited her. The one whom her relatives tells her that she is "cool" because they can't call her "beautiful."

The sidekick.

But not the cool one like Robin. No.

The one that everyone made jokes about.

You didn't wonder why he ditched you tonight. But you were just so excited about this. You finally had some courage to step out from your comfort zone. It was finally the day when you felt just a little bit pretty. When you looked into the mirror and thought some nice things about your body.

The cold of November made your ears freeze and it hurt, but you didn't cared. A red flash ran next to you and you blinked twice to see if it was real, but it was long gone. You held your hands on your arms squeezing tightly, trying to keep yourself warm.

You sat down on a bench because you didn't wanted to go home. That place was too lonely. Your tears were so warm on your frozen red cheeks and your mascara was making it's way down with them.

"Waterproof my ass." You whispered looking at your hand, seeing the traces of mascara as you wiped your tears away. You tried to remove the black thing that wasn't meant to be on your face, but you didn't bothered to check if you succeed.

Your red lipstick was still on your lips, but it wasn't as bright as it was when you left your apartment an hour and a half ago. You didn't even liked red lipstick. But he did. You thought he might like you more if you wore red lipstick.

"Oh my God! Are you that actress from that movie?" You raised your head up, looking confused at the man in front of you.

"Sorry! I'm pretty sure you're confusing me." You said disappointed, looking at the ground.

"I was just trying to get your attention." He laughed. He was holding a bouquet of red roses in his hand. You loved red roses.

"The girl who he bought that for it's lucky." You thought.

"Why would you want my attention?" You asked confused. Why was he talking to you, when clearly it was someone there waiting for him? A beautiful girl that wasn't you.

"Well, I saw you crying and I hate to see people sad." He started. You narrowed your eyebrows. You didn't wanted his pity too. You had enough from the waitress.

"Look, you should go to that girl who is waiting for you. Don't let her wait to much. I'll be fine." You squeezed your body tightly, trying to give your body some heat.

"There is no girl waiting for me." He laughed and you couldn't notice how handsome he was. His ginger hair with freckles, green eyes and a really beautiful smile.

You always had a thing for gingers.

Even though he was wearing a coat, you could see that under that there is a really toned body. And did I mentioned that he was tall? You looked away, trying to wipe his face away form your mind.

"He won't ever look at you, [Y/N].'' You told yourself.

"Hey? Earth to, I am sorry, what's your name?" He waved at you and you woke up from your little fantasy.

"I am sorry. [Y/N]. My name is [Y/N]." He nodded.

"It's a beautiful name. But not as beautiful as you." You laughed at his affirmation. "My name is Wally. Nice to meet you! And no, there is no girl waiting for me."

"Then what about the flowers?" You asked confused, looking at the bouquet in his hand.

"Oh, this? I bought this for you. I hope you're not allergic or anything." You raised an eyebrow and when he saw you hesitate, he gently took your hand and wrapped your fingers around the bouquet.

"Why would you buy me flowers?" You asked confused.

"You don't like flowers? I am sorry I'm not really good at presents." He scratched the back of his head looking to the ground.

"Oh no! I love flowers. Actually red roses are my favorites. But I don't understand why would you get this for me?" You said looking at the flowers in your hand.

"I just...wanted to. I guess." He said. "Why were you crying?" He asked, taking a place next to you.

"Uhm...it's just..."

"A guy?"

"Kinda. He ditched me. I waited an hour." He grabbed your other hand when he saw how disappointed you were.

"I'm sorry! He's an asshole and he totally doesn't deserve you." He squeezed your hand gently and you smiled.

"Yeah."

"But hey! There is a good part in everything. If he came tonight you would've been now with him instead of this beautiful dude that's in front of you." He smirked pointing at him and you laughed.

"I guess you're right."

"Well I am!" He exclaimed. "Now, I now this place and they have the best hot chocolate in Central City. Would you let me have the honor of taking you on a proper date?"

You couldn't believe that this was really happening. You thought that he is probably feeling sorry for you and he was only trying to be kind, but there was something in Wally that made him different. You knew deep inside that he was serious, even through your insecurities were telling you different.

"I'd love that." You nodded and he smiled. A real and honest smile, a thing you haven't seen in a while.

"Now, did I told you that you're really beautiful?" You laughed as you wrapped your hand around his arm.

‘’You're unbelievable!"

‘‘I’m only telling the truth!’‘ He raised his hands in defense, making you giggle.

It was one hell of a night, but in the end you realized that maybe life isn’t that bad after all. And even though bad things happened to you there will always be a sunshine making it’s way out through the grey clouds to brighten up your life.

Your sunshine had a name and flames instead of hair.

Wally West.

#wally west #kid flash #the flash #wally west x reader #wally west x y/n #kid flash x reader #kid flash x y/n #young justice #wallace west

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ediblenapkin-moved · 6 years

Text

That’s The Thing About Dreams- Chapter 1

A/N: holy fucking shit why. Why am i doing this nobody asked for this

What the fuck

uuuuuuuUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH i’m actually doing this

I’m almost 90% sure this idea already exists somewhere, but I can’t find it. If anyone knows who the fuck first made it then please tell me so i can direct people there. If not then holy shit i had an original idea????? (hahahahahahaha yeah no.)

Anyways, I don’t quite have any good names for this fucking fic so prepare for utter and complete BS no matter what I settle on. I mean, the entirety of this fucking AU is just summed up with the words What If Joey Got Drafted (i’ve officially called it the Animator Reversal Au but that sounds dumb) (someone with creativity: help) (the title is shit. sorry.)

And finally, i have no fucking skill in writing certain things. You know, like a proper intro and all that jazz. So i apologize ahead of time. I’ll probably go back later and edit this. maybe. whenever i can open my eyes for a minute.

Here is the ff.net link.

Enjoy.

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

“Joey? You doing alright?” Henry leaned into his friend’s office, but froze.

The man was sitting at his desk, staring at the wall. A letter laid loftily on top of all the varied sketches and designs that were scattered across the overused workspace. An inkwell had been tipped over, the ink dripping lightly into a puddle. As Henry spoke, he turned and stood, shoving all the paper further up on the desk.

“Ah! Henry! Yes, yes, I’m doing fine. I was just taking a break, as a matter of fact. Care to join me?”

Henry frowned. Something was off, but he couldn’t quite tell what. “Yeah…”

“Great! Come on.”

Joey walked off, but Henry stayed in the doorway, staring at the desk. Soon he found himself pulling down one fold of the letter, and scanning it. He knew it would probably be fine- Joey read most of the letters he got.

As he read, though, his face went pale. He folded the letter, slipped it back on top of the other paper, and walked to the break room.

This probably wasn’t going to end well.

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

Within twenty minutes, Joey was slumped in a chair in the break room, and already the contents of the letter were out and already spread through at least three floors of the studio.

“You? You are getting drafted.”

Joey sighed. “Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s what it said.”

Henry shifted in his seat. As soon as he’d made it down to the break room, he’d pulled Joey aside and asked him about the letter. Of course, in an animation studio with this many people and only one break room every three floors, there were at least two people taking their breaks no matter when you checked. And it just so happened that Sammy was taking his break in the ground floor break room.

Currently, the music director was leaning against the wall, eyes shut. “So now what?”

“Yeah, now what?” Wally, sitting in a chair propped by the doorway, looked up. “How’s this supposed to work out? It’s already crazy enough with you here- if you leave, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to keep this place in one piece.”

A chorus of agreements filled the room from the various staff who had already made their way upstairs. Susie had been one of the first, and instantly she began firing off questions one after the other- but as more and more people arrived, it’d just gotten louder and louder- until finally Sammy got everyone’s attention and forced most of them to go back to work. Quite a few remained, though, and they were finally using up the chairs that had been haphazardly placed in the break room.

Something that Joey didn’t really enjoy, but….

“So, how many days?”

“Four. Four days.” He put his head in his hands. “And just when I had the perfect idea…”

“What, you were gonna give me a raise?” Several people chuckled, and Joey raised his head just enough to glare at Sammy for a moment.

“Seriously, though, what are we going to do? Are we going to take a hiatus…?”

Silence. Then, Joey shook his head. “No, no stopping now. We’ve gotten this far- even if I’m not going to be here, things shouldn’t stop here.” He stood. “Alright, here’s the plan- Henry is officially in charge.” The animator blinked as Joey pointed at him. “But, Sammy- you’re in charge of making sure Henry doesn’t screw up anything major. You know what, Franks- you’re also in charge of Henry.”

“Hell, just put everyone else in charge of Henry and call it a day,” Thomas muttered.

Henry groaned from his seat. “You don’t trust me to run this place, yet you call me the co-owner.”

“Don’t worry. I knew you didn’t want to really do anything business wise, so I’m pushing it on them.”

“And you’re the one who spent an outrageous amount of money on a whole toy factory, but I’m the untrustworthy one…”

“Hey, that toy factory’s got a nice profit.”

“And I don’t?”

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

Three more days saw Joey Drew on his knees, tracing ink onto the floor slowly and carefully with one hand, the other set against an open book.

Finally, he finished, and stood, picking the book up.

A fully drawn pentagram laid on the floor, still gleaming and fresh. It was surrounded by lit candles and a ton of uncapped, full inkwells.

Joey took a deep breath, bringing the book closer. He only had a little bit of time left. If this worked, it could keep the studio afloat while he was gone. It would last long enough for him to come back. Because he would come back. (He had to think he would because if he thought he might then that left room for doubt and that meant he believed, at least a little, that he could very much die out there and bleed out in a foreign place with nobody recognizable in sight and all his dreams stuck in his head where nobody can reach them-)

Joey would return.

He reopened the book, flipping to the correct page. The page he’d handwritten, having used well over thirty different books as a reference. The entire book was basically one giant reference for the varied things he wanted to do.Some pages filled with pentagrams, some with character sketches, some with rants and ramblings about anything he could think of.

Due to one of the thoughts he’d had when writing, it had the thought provoking title of The Illusion of Living sketched on with a bit of white pencil. Not that it would ever be published, of course.

Joey paused for a moment- allowing the doubt to seep in. It’s not going to work. It’s going to go wrong. Something doesn’t feel right.

Then. he shook his head. No, this would go right. It had to.

He took another breath and began chanting. As he spoke, he noticed the lines on the circle beginning to darken- and then the ink moved. He stuttered, nearly botching a word, but managed to catch himself and continue.

The ink pulled itself from the inkwells, gathering in a point in the middle of the circle. It began to rise, forming a shaky pillar that nearly reached Joey’s shoulders. As Joey spoke the final words, it sunk back down slightly- and began to form a definitive shape.

Joey finished the chant- and the ink paused.

Then it collapsed.

Joey cried out, looking at the page- then put the book down and kneeled next to the circle.

The ink broke the confines of the circle, but remained inanimate. It didn’t move any further, simply remained a pile of ink on the floor.

For a while, Joey waited. Maybe he’d said one of the words wrong. Maybe there wasn’t enough ink. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

But soon enough, a clock chimed- and he checked his watch. His shoulders sagged.

His time was up. This was his last day in the studio- his last chance. But it hadn’t worked.

He shut the book, and set it back on the desk. Blew out the candles. Then, silently, he walked out, not turning back, leaving the ink puddle on the floor.

He shut the door just as the ink rippled.

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

A/N: So for some reason, whenever I think of an actual image of Joey now, all I can see is Cave Johnson. The younger one. The one that thinks he’s got all his shit together and he can test on Olympiads and astronauts!!! Yeah that one. That’s what I imagine Joey looks like. So when I write Joey, I can’t help but imagine this guy that looks a lot like Cave Johnson. If, ya know, Cave failed to raise enough money for Science™ and had to settle for cartoon business instead. And decided to dabble with magic because he couldn’t afford Science™. Because you know what, fuck Science™. what did it ever do for him.

So there’s that.

Anyways there’s probably a million and one errors with this but i cannot care enough to fix anything at this point so

On a side note, i sometimes regret putting certain songs in my playlist.not because i don’t like them, but because i really do not need that mood when writing this story. Like, i love the sound, but i do not need this mood. This is supposed to be a SERIOUS scene, not really silly. Stop making me crack dumb jokes with little taste.

Something serious. I’m pretty sure Henry knew the toy factory existed- where else could the plushies have come from- but never got to see it or anything. Just found out that it was there and was like joey why

So, there’s chapter 1. Who knows when chapter 2 will arrive????.... I sure don’t hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha sorry

#my writing #batim au #animator reversal au #fuckin #who did it #first #batim #joey and the motherfuckin ink machine #h e h #i am so sorry #please help #fanfiction #that's the thing about dreams #that's the thing about dreams chapter #writing tag #allagenda

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