#for this I was thinking about Arthur on his back and talking Allen through things while he’s a little more passive and needs to be taken | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morgansunflower · 10 months

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So Much Love

Wally West X Wife! Batsis! Reader

Warnings:suggestive content, past child abuse mention, explicit language and angst.

Words:1463

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V

Y/N is 5 months pregnant with Wally's baby. She confronts her husband after he becomes distant from her.

The news of her pregnancy was a complete delight to not only the Wayne family(adopted included) and the Allen's but also to the team. During the news of her pregnancy Wally was overjoyed but as she began to show more..

He barely touched her. Barely even looked at her. She had enough and she needed answers before she exploded at him. Y/N stands with her arms folded looking to Wally who had guiltily expression on his face.

"do you even want to have a baby Wally? Because these last few weeks you barely even look at me. You avoid talking about names. You haven't gone with me to my appointments in weeks... You have to be honest with me!"

"I.. I..I.. I know" he didn't know what to say or how to form the right words of how truly scared he is "I.. I don't know how... To say.. "

"well until you do. Don't sleep with me!" she snapped tears running down her face

Wally feels absolutely sick. Damaged as she slammed their bedroom door shut.. He speeded out of their home. He stood in front Roy's house. He knew Grayson would worry too much and is too close to Barbara who is close to Y/N. Barry was currently off planet with a justice league mission. Roy was more of his older brother figure over the years. He didn't feel like running his emotions out.

It's 2:45 a:m. He moved his hand to ring the doorbell. He then stopped realizing Lian is probably asleep right now.. Oh right Lian. Best she doesn't see her uncle like this. He sits on the step to the porch.

"get your shit together West" he sighed to himself with a bitter laugh while pinching the bridge of his nose.

Donna Harper maiden name Troy wakes as she heard footsteps on their porch. She shakes her husband's shoulder

"hmm already ready for round two Don" he yawned with a smirk

She roll her eyes scoffing "not that! I hear someone on our porch Roy"

"what?.." he said still not registering what his wife said.

"oh for the love of--" he cut her off

"relax Don I got it now"

Roy sat up and pulled up the security camera to the front porch.

"Wally?" the couple both said

Roy quickly gets out of the bed. She followed suit putting on her robe as Roy put on his sweatpants. Roy and Don step to the kitchen. He opens the fridge grabbing two drinks with a box of cold leftover pizza. Don kisses his lips.

"you know the drill"

Wally hears the entrance door open and then heard the door shut.

"couldn't have called us West?" he asked with a soft laugh "you ok kid?"

He sits next to him and offers the drink to him. He gives Wally the box of pizza! He snatched the box opening it and grabbed a piece. He began to devour the pizza. Wally swallow hard and put the empty box behind him. Wally drinks some of the beverage

"what's going on kid?" Roy further questioned his deeply stressed friend

Wally ran his fingers through his short red hair "I'm not in the mood to fucking talk about my feelings Roy" Wally scoffed lying. He did, he needed to confide in his brother.

"when you gonna stop lying to me kid? I told you can trust me" Wally then began thinking back to when he was getting abused by his dad.. The source of what was bothering him.. Roy was there for Wally. He always is.

Angered he extend his arm glaring off in the distance "it's not that fucking simple Roy. I promised her I was happy but--" he sighed heavily his throat shaking

"Wally you two will work things out" he said with a shrug to his shoulders "she loves you enough to put up with you"

"I don't want to be him ok" Wally said shallow breath "I look at her and I think about the baby. Then my joy is absolutely ripped away as I think about..."

"West.. You're--" he cut him off

"don't, just don't." he hissed "I'm fine Roy. I acted like a complete dumbass. I deserve to feel like this" his voice broken

"no your not and no you don't. Wally listen to me man. Just tell her what's going on. It's not gonna stop hurting but it will get easier" Roy promised him.

"I am so fucked up right now Roy. I keep having nightmares of me turning into.. Him" Wally lightly shakes his head being honest with himself "I don't know how.. " he feels so broken. Like he's sick. He takes another gulp of his drink "I am going to lose her" he strutted clenching his face.

"go home West, be honest with her.." Roy yawns taking the empty drinks and boxed pizza. Wally gently nodded taking his friends advice "well I'm exhausted some kid-idiot woke me up" he sarcastically said Roy stands ruffling Wally's hair like he did when he was a kid "go home, talk to your wife. Fix this. You're gonna be a great Dad Wallman. You're great with kids and honestly you're not ever going to be like him"

As he opens the door "you got me out of the storm again Red" Wally thanked

"I'm always here to be your therapist but try to come at normal hours.."

It's 4 o'clock in the morning. Y/N sits on the recliner chair rubbing her bump lovingly. She had fresh tears running down her face. Y/N feels a gush a wind seeing Wally with food from her favorite restaurant. He knew the baby always was kicking at this time of night and she would be having cravings.

"I know I've severely fucked up, I know this won't fix it"

He fixes her a plate and a glass of water. Wally gave her the plate of food and sat the glass on the coffee table. Wally sits on the couch still trying to convince himself he won't ever be like his parents. Y/N finished her plate of food. Wally speeded to take, her plate to the sink and clean it.. Then he puts, it away and comes back to sit on the couch.

"do you not want the baby?" she asked yet again trying not to sob "are you not happy anymore?"

The speedsters heart physically heavies. He made her feel like that. Wally shakes his head as his eyes became glassy. Wally kneels beside her taking her hand and gently kisses the palm of her hand.

"babe I am so sorry I made you feel like I wasn't happy with you.. I couldn't be happier. I just am scared.. Of hurting you and our baby" his eyes shake. He tried so hard to keep from crying. He stuttered choking back a cry "I'm so scared of becoming him Y/N... I didn't know how to tell you.. I just tried to block all my emotions and ignore them.. I don't want to hurt you or our baby.. Because I love you.. And our baby so much. If anything would ever happen to you or our baby it'd kill me"

She takes his hand.. With so much love and a hint of sympathy. How is she still in love with him?

"Wally, you're my love. You are so much full of light and love.. You are nothing like him. You are my other half and I love you. Our baby will love you"

She pulled him closer into a hug. He lays on her chest letting himself cry. He kisses her bump feeling the baby kick for the first time. Then guilt hits her hard enough to make her cry.

"I should have told you sooner I just you'd been distant from me and I.."

"what's wrong? Is something wrong with the b-baby?" he asked his voice became heavier as a tear falls down.

"I'm not pregnant with just one baby" she admits

A wide smile came to his lips.

Months later...

It was late in the night Wally was cuddled up next to his wife after patrol with Nightwing. She had just told him to be quiet so he didn't wake up their son. As Wally finally felt rested he hears a gentle cooing sound from the baby monitor.

Wally speeded into the nursery. He lifts his daughter into his arms. He loved to hold her. To hold his son.. He loved them so much it was better than getting struck by lightning, better than anything. The fact that his wife went through what she did to bring them into the world.. He began to cry. He never thought he could feel so much adoration and love.

#Past child abuse #Crying #Roydonna #wally west x reader #Babies #Angst #batfamily #batsis! reader #Wally West X Batsis! Reader #Dickbabs #Wally West abused as a kid

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fireandspiceland · 2 years

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I love talking about Arthur railing Allen but what about Arthur wanting to have his brains fucked out after having to deal with Mr. Alfred F. Jones at work all day 😳 so he spends the night guiding his sugar baby Allen through topping him 👀✨

#you can’t tell me Arthur doesn’t sometimes want to come home after work just to be taken apart and put back together again #he’s not the top he always tries to come across as #he can still be a dom with Allen Brat Jones balls deep inside him #but sometimes he just wants to feel things in a different way #writing prompt #aph england #2p america #mint chocolate #for this I was thinking about Arthur on his back and talking Allen through things while he’s a little more passive and needs to be taken #care of 🥺🥺🥺#but on the other hand.. Arthur riding Allen when he’s in the mood. could also be good 👀#also I think I figured out the B in the middle name (god bless I remembered it)#but it stands for brat. at least when Allen is with Arthur who’s nearly twice his age

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alfredosauce50 · 2 years

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What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 13

(remastered)

Wordcount: 2, 956 Rating: M for strong language, mature themes and gore Chapter synopsis: Alfred survives the ordeal, but not without a severe case of amnesia. You realize your role in his suffering, having been used and cast aside like a tool. Unwilling to go down without a fight, you’re eager to find your purpose in life through new friends. Meanwhile, Allen senses the beginning of another conflict, and it’s the most personal yet. A/N: This is a remaster. The writing has improved, and the chapter has different events and developments to the original. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Allen was ready to take the shot.

The gun was drawn, cocked, and aimed at Alfred’s head. And his finger was one twitch away from setting it off. He was just looking for a sign that he was hurting you.

If he did so little as scratch you, he’d blow him to hell until he became nothing but spare parts.

“Alfred.” You took his face into your hands. His eyes stayed wide and unresponsive; he was still in shock. “It’s okay. These people only want to help you.”

“They wanna help me?” Alfred finally looked up. “They wanna help me. Where am I? What happened to me?” His words came out as nothing but a breathy whisper. But they were heard loud and clear by everyone in the room.

Allen lowered his gun. The others rose from the ground, albeit cautiously.

“I’ll tell you everything. Just come with me.” You gripped his hand.

When you led him out, Zao let go of the breath he’d been holding.

“The beast is tamed.”

Alfred let you pull him to the guest room. There was nothing here that he recognized. Not the place, the people, nor himself. The men back at the med bay looked familiar, but that was it–he couldn’t recognize them. So he could only spare them cold and bitter distrust.

The door clicked shut. Before you said anything, you pulled Alfred into a desperate hug.

“Al–”

When your scent washed over him, he knew he was safe. He eventually returned it, hugging you so tight he lost his footing and slammed his back against the wall. But he never let go. You never did either, melting into the embrace until the only thing you could think about was him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” You whispered, burying your face into his chest.

“Why, did something happen to me?” Alfred murmured, resting his chin on your head.

“Yes.” You clung tighter to his shirt. The fabric of his tank was weak, wrinkled, and subject to tear, but Alfred liked the way you hung off him. He couldn’t have it any other way. “You were nearly killed. But Arthur, Allen–”

His face fell.

“–they all saved you.”

“What?” He breathed over you. Alfred couldn’t understand. There were only so many things that could hurt him, so a near-death experience didn’t sit well with him at all. “How the hell did that happen?”

You stared at him wordlessly. Your heart clenched at how expectant he looked, knowing the answers he desperately looked for would destroy him. Everything that he was, and everything he would be.

“Come on, talk to me.” He lowered his head to you. Your mouth separated agape, but nothing came out.

“(F/N)?”

You were crying.

The light fixtures buzzed in their ears until the sound became indistinct. The silence let their restless thoughts run rampant, and Allen couldn’t deal. He pulled out the cigarette behind his ear. He’d been saving it for quite some time, and this situation called for it.

Wedging it between his teeth, he tried turning on his lighter. While it flickered stubbornly, it alerted the man sitting across the dining table.

“Put that shit away,” Arthur rose his brows. “We’re not becoming secondary smokers on top of everything that’s happened.”

Allen glanced up for a moment. He sighed before putting his lighter away. But the cigarette stayed in his mouth so he could lick the paper. While he ran his tongue all over it, letting the sweetness wash around his mouth, he eyed the two with disdain.

“I don’t like how you two are sitting together. Feels like I’m being interrogated.” He gestured to them. “So I’ll ask the questions.”

Arthur covered his eyes. Zao kicked back to stare at the ceiling.

“What are we supposed to do?”

They stayed quiet.

“Like, fuck, we didn’t think this far ahead.” Allen looked to the side momentarily. “But we gotta think of something.”

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Arthur shook his head. “All I know is that Alfred can’t stay here forever. If something happens to him, it’s gonna happen to us. He’ll get us all killed.”

“Then where is he supposed to go?” Allen leaned in.

“I don’t know!” The blonde hissed. “Anywhere but here. This is my fucking house.”

“Okay, so he’ll go to a motel. Motel-skipping.” The other shrugged. “You know, the same thing that got him fucked up in the first place. He’s gonna disappear, do his own thing, and get himself killed all over again. Fuck no.”

“At least that’s better than roping us all in.”

Allen narrowed his eyes with scorn.

“You don’t get it, do you?” He muttered. Arthur’s steely gaze on him faltered. In all his years of knowing Allen, this was the first time he used that tone with him. “We’re already roped in. It doesn’t matter where we are. Where we go. Where we hide. We’re involved because—”

He dug a hand through his hair and paused.

The déjà vu slammed into him like a tidal wave.

“–because we fucking helped him.” Allen exhaled slowly. “That’s how the mob works. You know somebody, you talk to them, and you’re marked for death.”

“Right,” Arthur forced a brief smile. He exchanged glances between Zao and Allen, who both tensed up from the obvious direction the conversation was going. “I guess I was stupid to forget the entire bane of my existence. And I’m sorry for wanting to change that somehow.”

“That’s not what I meant–” Allen winced.

Arthur stood up, scraping his chair back violently. His face was reddening by the second, and his nostrils were flaring. Before he could crack, he ran out of the kitchen and into his room. Zao stood up and raced after him.

The door slammed in his face.

He softened his gaze and tapped on it gently.

“Will you open the door? It’s me.”

“I’m more tempted to keep it shut because it’s you.”

“Really? Even if I told you I’m going off-planet soon?”

Arthur froze. In the next few seconds, he managed to hop off his bed and run to the door. When he opened it and saw that devilish smile, the annoyance he expected was replaced by a heart-wrenching sadness.

“I hate you.” He launched into his arms and hugged him as tight as he could. Zao returned the embrace and kissed his temple. “I hate all of you.”

“Understandable.” The other murmured.

“Why do you have to go? Why can’t you just quit?”

“One does not simply quit the mob,” Zao reminded. “The mob quits you. In other words, I’m stuck where I am. For now. But when have I never come home?”

Alfred could still remember everything he could’ve wanted.

But the holes in his memory left out the most crucial details, which you were here to fill.

“The chip was a lie.” You turned away from him. You even closed your eyes, but you could still see the face he made. The unbridled terror and grief that contorted his expression. “It doesn’t make you immortal. It was meant to kill you.”

Eternal life, commercialized. Mizumoto was such a good businessman that he sold it to him with those three words. It became the only thing he could think about for the next three years—stealing it, using it, and enacting the revenge he thirsted for.

“I’m sorry,” You choked out, bringing your hands to your teary eyes. “Allen told me everything.”

In the end, it was just a sick, drawn-out suicide Alfred unknowingly partook in. And you were the key to his undoing—the guarantor of his demise.

“I was the one who led you to it.”

Allen was smoking by himself when he heard it. A bloodcurdling scream, followed by the hollow clatter of a metal chair. He covered his eyes and took a deep puff of his cigarette.

So Alfred finally found out the truth, huh?

“You know what this situation calls for, Allen?” Each word made his cigarette wobble between his lips. “Some good ol’ beer.”

Pushing his chair back, he stood up and sauntered over to the fridge. On one of the shelves was a six-pack of Yebisu cans. He brought it to the dining table and tore open the cardboard with no grace.

Alfred covered your body with his. Hours had gone by since the room fell silent. Before it did, he was cussing and clawing his hair out–he was so devastated that he couldn’t even speak.

Holding you like this was one form of escape.

With your arms around his neck, he took the liberty to kiss your face while you slept.

But like all distractions, be it drugs, alcohol, or nicotine, they never actually made anything go away, let alone come back.

When he dug through the hazy archives of his mind, he could recall his darkest memories. They were unmoved, untouched, and perfectly pristine, almost as if their placement was deliberate.

Everything else was wiped clean.

All those times when you laughed with him, ate with him, smiled at him. Dreamed with him about happier times, not realizing it was already there in your grasps. And now, they would never come back.

“Allen,” You approached him from behind. He was slumped over the table, unconscious, with his head surrounded by a wall of empty beer cans. Next to his arm was an ashtray. Judging from how many cigarette butts there were, he must’ve gone through an entire pack.

You sighed, gathered all the trash, then tossed it into the bin.

Allen awoke to the soft hiss of the kitchen tap. You were washing your hands. The table he sat at was cleared up to make place for a hot meal. A bowl of rice, an uncracked egg, instant natto, and agedashi tofu.

“I was gonna wake you up before it got cold.” You glanced at him over your shoulder.

“Thanks, baby.” He smiled tiredly. Allen cracked the egg into his bowl and stirred it furiously. A faint headache was pounding in the back of his head, but it was nothing some rice couldn’t fix. “I was wondering when you were gonna come out.”

You walked over and leaned onto his back.

“You have a real knack for getting me to miss you.”

“And you have a real knack for getting me to worry about you.” You murmured, hugging him around his neck. “I don’t want to hover, but–”

“–why not? Why don’t you wanna hover?” Allen turned around.

“Because I’m not your mother.” You released him and took a seat adjacent. He lowered his gaze and continued preparing his food. You leaned in with a dark glower. “But twenty cigarettes? In how long?”

“I was upset.”

You paused, inhaling deeply before opening your mouth again.

“I pulled you out of a trash heap, Allen.” You shot back. He set down his chopsticks and sighed. This wasn’t how he imagined his night would go, but he probably deserved it. “Seeing you buried in beer cans makes me wonder if you miss that place.”

“I don’t, okay? I just didn’t know what to do.”

“You can start with not giving yourself liver cancer.” You picked up the ashtray and dropped the whole thing into the bin. “Or lung cancer. If I have to force you to go cold turkey, I will.”

“That’s only an ‘if,’ right?” Allen questioned.

“Look, Al.” You spun to him, exasperated. “You might not see it, but I care about you.”

“That’s not what I’m getting at,” He winced. It seemed like he was getting on everybody’s nerves today. But unlike Arthur, he knew you’d listen to what he had to say. “I know you care about me. It’s just… I can’t do this. Sitting around, waiting to die.”

Your brows came together. Hearing it was different from knowing it; it struck your deepest fears with ruthless force. If there was one way for any of you to find peace, it was rising up. Your father was still out there, and he wasn’t one to leave unfinished business.

“I had a feeling,” You leaned into his torso for a gentle embrace. Allen returned it eagerly and rested his chin on your head. “But we’ll make it out. We have to.”

“We better,” He chuckled dryly. “Otherwise, that old man’s got hell to pay.”

That night, the three of you slept on the ground. There you all lay, broken and used like scraps of metal in a junkyard. That sick bastard had wronged you all—each circumstance a spitting image of each other.

But there was one thing you wouldn’t let him do; to make this the end.

You and Allen were in the kitchen making lunch for the late risers.

As the week progressed, Alfred was getting up later and later. Sometimes, he didn’t leave bed at all. If that wasn’t concerning, the fact that he didn’t even need sleep made it alarming.

“I didn’t think Arthur would have this many fresh ingredients,” You mused, inspecting a bunch of basil. “This is not cheap.”

After handing it to Allen, you wandered off to explore the other pantries.

“Right?” Your companion hummed. He added the basil into a food processor, followed by some pine nuts and parmesan. He turned on the appliance to hear it purr to life. “But he’s got friends in high places. And when I say high, I mean both definitions.”

“What did you say Zao was again?”

“He’s a synthetic farmer.” He stopped the food processor. “Grows everything in hotboxes. Ask him for a plant, and he’ll get it for you.”

You would’ve missed the joke if it weren’t for his mischievous grin.

“I’m just saying,” Allen held up a leftover stalk and waved it around. “I mean, everything I eat is a plant.”

“That’s not what I was asking,” You replied, leaning against the kitchen island. “I was wondering what he did for a living. Does he just sell everything?”

“Ah, the business. He grows stuff for gangs.”

Just as you suspected, everything that came out of his mouth was a euphemism for cannabis. Either way, that wasn’t the specific plant you were after.

“Well, if he’s got a farm somewhere, and he grows… Edible things, I was thinking I could go help him out.” As excitement practically lit up your face, he slowly realized what was going on in that brilliant mind of yours. And it showed in his lopsided grin.

“Are you saying you wanna work with him?”

You nodded, much to his glee.

“Good on ya, doll! Now make me proud and beat him in his own game.”

“I'll certainly try.” You grinned playfully. “I had hands-on practice with the guy who invented it. So if I can’t, he’s doing it all wrong.”

Making your way to the hall at that, you were about to leave, but not without adding this.

“You should do something too, Allen. We weren’t designed to sit around to do nothing. As humans, I mean. It’s not good for our brains.”

Last week’s conversation replayed in his mind, causing his smile to falter. You were right–if he wanted to stop sitting around and waiting for nature to do its course, he may as well get off his ass and do something worthwhile.

You pointed to the garage door with an encouraging smile.

“If you ask Arthur to let you help him, I'll ask Zao. Deal?”

Allen furrowed his brows as he laughed nervously. Boy, were you a handful.

He hadn’t touched a wrench in years. Even if he did, it was to fiddle with it. But that was only one of the plethora of reasons why he was so hesitant. He left Arthur to work for a guy that nearly killed him. And he wasn’t about to get into how much he regretted that.

“... Alright, alright. I'll ask Arthur.” When he threw up his hands in defeat, you clapped your hands with delight. As he watched you relish in victory, his gaze softened into a tender one.

Sometimes, it was concerning how easy it was for you to get him to do things.

“That’s what I thought. I’m gonna go find Zao.” Shuffling off at that, you were startled when you bumped right into Alfred. He didn’t look very alert, but the collision was a sufficient wake-up call. “Have a good sleep, sunshine? It's nearly one.”

Allen glanced up from his bowl. Alfred had his arms around your waist, and his head was leaning into yours. Before his lips could catch yours, you turned away, letting him kiss your cheek instead. Allen’s smile faded.

“Yeah,” Alfred smiled. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I was lonely.”

“I tried, but you’re a log. Don’t worry about sleeping in. You need the rest.”

“Do I?”

“For emotional purposes.”

Alfred huffed at that. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t argue with that. It wasn’t so much his body that needed recuperating–it was his mind. And he had faith in his recovery so long as you were around.

Your hands reached up to his face like second nature.

“You don’t have to baby me.” He grumbled.

“I’m not babying you, idiot. Did you want me to be rude instead?”

“No.”

Allen stopped mixing all together. He was much too distracted by Alfred’s behavior to think of anything else. His hands were all over you like they belonged there. Seeing the way he looked at you only confirmed it.

He was asking for a fight.

Alfred may have been a friend, someone he was grateful to for saving his life. He even returned the favor, resolving their rocky past. But he’d be damned if Alfred thought he was the only one.

He never was.

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drunk-poets-society · 3 years

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ok so

this young fella is No. 85 Squadron’s Hurricane pilot Richard Lee. he was awarded the DFC and DSO for his service, just a couple months before he was shot down over the English Channel on 18/8/1940, at age 23, sadly never to be seen again.

details under the cut -

Richard Hugh Anthony Lee was born in London in 1917 (the exact date or month is unknown). Growing up, he went to Charterhouse School.

On September 1935 he joined RAF Cranwell as a Flight Cadet, and graduated in July 1937. He was posted to Debden on June 1, 1938 to join no.85 Squadron at its reformation. He flew Gloster Gladiator biplanes to begin with, before no.85 was re-equipped with Hawker Hurricane Mk1s.

No.85 sqn. Was posted in France to protect cross-channel convoys. On November 21, 1939, while on patrol over Boulogne, Flight Lieutenant ‘Dickie’ Lee scored the squadron’s first victory when he successfully attacked a Heinkel 111 which crashed into the channel and burst into flames. This also scored the Squadron’s first accolade as he was awarded a DFC on March 8, 1940 “for outstanding brilliance and efficiency”

Not much happened over the winter. That was to change, however, when on May 10, 1940, the sound of Anti Aircraft guns and Luftwaffe planes filled the air. No. 85 squadron immediately jumped into action, and within a few minutes, one section of “A” flight, and one section of “B” flight were up in the air. Lee was leading B flight with Flying Officer Derek Allen and Pilot Officer Patrick Woods-Scawen flying as his numbers 2 and 3 respectively. the section attacked a Henschel 126, and managed to severely damage the aircraft, leaving two of its crew wounded.

Later that morning, Lee was flying Hurricane L1779 into combat, leading his section again. They engaged a Junkers-88 at about 15,000 feet. His combat report reads: “after being sighted E/A dived to a very low height. i could only overhaul from astern very slowly. From 500 yards to 700 yards the enemy rear gunner fired continuously. I fired short bursts and finished ammunition closing to 200 yards. No apparent results except black smoke from one engine. My own aircraft shot badly.”

Later that evening Lee shared in the destruction of a Ju-86 with his section. Lee was the first to open fire and set the enemy’s starboard engine on fire. When they landed, ground crew found that he had fired 50 rounds from each of his eight Browning machine guns during the engagement.

on 11/5/1940, the squadron was back in the thick of it. however, this time after a busy morning patrol, Allen and Woods-Scawen returned without their section leader. Richard Lee was missing. He’d been flying Hurricane N2388, code marked ‘VY-R’ over Maastricht when he engaged a Dornier 17P at approximately 1300 hours. His aircraft had been hit by Anti Aircraft fire and he bailed out of his aircraft slightly wounded. Parachuting down, he landed in a field, where he spotted a local man passing by. He asked the man which direction he should travel to get to the Belgian tanks that were nearby. He took off in the direction, only to find out that they were, in fact, German. Lucky for him, his uniform was concealed underneath a smock or overcoat he had acquired. He was believed to be a peasant and was locked into a barn with some other refugees. Thinking quick, he climbed up to a window and noticed a ladder perched beneath it, and promptly climbed out, walked several miles, and hitched a ride with some Belgians before returning to his unit the very next day. The squadron’s diarist reported that “11/5/40. Eight E/A were shot down today. Flight Lieutenant R.H.A Lee failed to return from the offensive patrol covering the advance of the BEF over the Tongres-Maastricht Section – he was reported last seen on a Dornier’s tail at about 2,000 ft.”

On May 22, No. 85 squadron started to return to Debden to re-equip and reform, and Lee was transferred to No. 56 Squadron. The next day the squadron engaged enemy aircraft over St. Omer while patrolling Manston to Dunkirk. he expended all his ammunition in the dogfight that ensued between the Hurricanes and the 109s, before his starboard wing was badly hit. He broke off and returned to Manston unharmed, and aircraft deemed repairable.

On May 27, he flew another offensive patrol from Manston with the Squadron, flying Hurricane P3311. On this occasion he was shot down by Messerschmitt 109s during an attack on Henschel 111s. he ditched his aircraft in the sea and was fished out of the water and taken ashore an hour later.

On May 31, Lee was awarded the DSO. The London Gazette published the following: “Flight Lieutenant Richard Hugh Anthony Lee, D.F.C. (33208) this officer has displayed great ability as a leader and intense desire to engage the enemy. On one occasion he continued to attack an enemy aircraft after his companion had been shot down, and his own machine hit in many places. His section shot down a Dornier 215 in flames one evening in May, and another in the course of engagement the next day. In his last engagement, he was seen at 200 feet at the tail of a Junkers 89, being subjected to intense fire from the enemy occupied territory. This officer escaped from behind the German lines after being arrested and upheld the highest traditions of the Service.”

In June, he returned to No. 85 squadron, under Squadron Leader Peter Townsend. His experience was called upon to help bring the new recruits upto scratch before the squadron was again ready for operational flying.

On June 26, Richard Lee and his close friend Gerald Lewis flew to an investiture where Lee received his DSO and DFC for his service.

Lee’s reputation as a daring and aggressive fighter pilot was quickly spreading around the air force. Peter Townsend’s good friend Flight Lieutenant John Simpson wrote a letter to his intelligence officer, after hearing about the exploits of Richard Lee.

Simpson, who also coincidentally often flew with Patrick Woods-Scawen’s younger brother Tony, wrote “I hear that Dickie Lee has done wonders. You see how these boys, who were always looked upon as being the naughty ones, are doing so well. They needed a war to convince the old gentlemen at Whitehall. Do you remember that Dickie was almost given his bowler hat for low flying? The same low flying has apparently stood him in good stead.” (apparently he had flown through an open barn, but i have no way of confirming or denying that)

In Hector Bolitho’s book Combat Report published in 1943, he wrote of an afternoon spent with Lee, Townsend and Simpson. “Peter Townsend and Dickie Lee had been posted to an aerodrome a few miles from the house… in the early summer, John and I went out to find them… we found Peter and Dickie and took them back to the house. Dickie followed the car on a hellish motor bicycle.

It was a pleasant enough afternoon and we lay on the lawn, the four of us, with a bowl of ice, a bottle of gin, some tonic water and four glasses, and talked the world away. All three, looked older. Both Dickie and Peter had been shot down and a certain solemnity seemed to have touched them. Dickie had changed more than others.

We used to call him Dopey in the old days because he always fell asleep if the conversation took a serious turn. He was already a hero and in most newspapers there had been photographs of him receiving his decorations from the King. The long hell in France had left creases at the corners of his sleepy eyes. But he would have none of our attempts at war talk. He said that he had a date with a blonde in Saffron Walden and that he could not stay very long.

Dickie’s taste in blondes was not always reassuring to his friends, but he was obviously more concerned with his date than with our efforts to make him talk about how he has won the DFC and DSO on his tunic. I remember when he stood to go I noticed a hole in the leg of his trousers where a bullet had gone through without touching his skin.

I suppose that Peter and John and I were a bit pensive, being the older ones, so Dickie yawned and said ‘Well, I must get cracking’ he made one gesture to sentiment before he went. On the day that was declared he left his favourite pictures with me… before his squadron flew off to France.

They were photographs of friends, of aircraft, and one of a spaniel. He asked me for them, so I brought them down from the attic and he flew off to his blonde with them, piled before him on the screeching, violent motor bicycle.”

August 18, 1940 “the Hardest Day” of course, was when Dickie was lost. Flying as Blue 1 in Hurricane P2923 ‘VY-R’ during this patrol, he was last seen by Squadron Leader Townsend and Flying Officer Arthur Gowers ten miles north-east of Foulness Point chasing Bf 109s out across the Channel.

In Townsend’s book Duel of Eagles he wrote the following of Lee’s last action: “Come back, Dicky,’ I called but he was drawing away. Again and again I called, but he kept on. It was useless to chase Huns out to sea; they would be back again the next day. Something had gotten into Dicky and there was no stopping him. We were both low on fuel and I was out of ammunition. There was only one thing to do: turn back”

Like several others, he was gone too soon. Neither his aircraft nor his body were ever recovered. and aside from these mentions, and a few documents, and acknowledgement on the Runnymede Memorial, Panel 6, there isn’t much about him out there. there’s really not much one can do about that either, other than remember, and keep them alive in our thoughts; those who never returned, whose names faded into obscurity.

Source

#my last post was glitching out so i had to make a new one #sigh. i miss him. that 'age 23' really hits hard man #history #ww2 #wwii #battle of britain #raf #1940s #1940 #need i repeat it again ? war bad.#i wish he had a happy ending like charlie and gertie in that other post but alas #also this is all the information i could find about him on the internet #that blogspot article is the only comprehensive source #there's just tiny bits and pieces of him scattered in databases and they're not much use at all to be quite honest #there is only one thing i know right now and that is that i miss him dearly for some reason #even though i dont even know anything about him except all of.... this #and the pictures in this post are all the pictures of him that are out there #i mean there's more but they're just colourisations of these #especially of the one with his pal lewis #and the one in which he's standing with the medals on his uniform #sweet boy i miss him. precious lad.#i say knowing absolutely nothing about him #like he was literally just some guy. he wasn't famous or anything. there aren't even any letters by him out there #so that i can even start to build an accurate profile. i guess all that i have is the photos and mentions #and where are those photos that he took with him ? did they go with him ? or are they in someone's basement #forgotten and neglected. or did they get destroyed ? where are they !#my best hope is that they're somewhere out there in a basement or something along with a pile of letters #his body or plane were never recovered and that makes me want to cry and sob and weep #i pretty much am over my other crush but this man has been on my mind for over a year now #its like sir please

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favefandomimagines · 4 years

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Then Let Me Go (g.w.)

Summary: you’ve been with George since your third year at hogwarts and you wondered if he’d ever propose

AN: this was inspired by a season 3 episode of glee where emma talks to will about marrying her and her OCD and i switched it up and used anxiety instead which is something i deal with all the time

You and George were the epic love story. You beat the odds, survived a war and had reached a mile stone of almost a decade together.

And yet you were at a stand still. Everyone around you was either married or engaged to be married.

Fred had just gotten back from his honeymoon with Angelina, Ron just got married to Hermione and Harry proposed to Ginny two months prior.

And then there was you and George. The epic love story that was grinding to a halt. That thought alone made your anxiety and overthinking worse than it’s been.

Being a half blood, you knew what anxiety was. Your mother had it when she was your age and it was something you dealt with every day. Your boyfriend had known about your illness early into your friendship, long before you were dating.

He was always there for you but now that he was the thing causing your anxiety, you didn’t know who to turn to.

George not proposing made you second guess everything you did. Thinking that the smallest wrong thing would lead to George to admit he didn’t want to marry you.

You were beginning to feel self-conscious and almost like you not revelling in the greatness that is pre marital or post marital bliss, you were a burden.

No one who’s married or engaged wants to hang out with the only person who’s not.

Angelina’s birthday was coming up and Fred had entrusted you in planning the event. Which you said yes to because not only was she your best friend, it distracted you from the constant mental chatter.

You were sitting at your kitchen table, going through the various ideas you had for Angelina’s party.

“Hello, darling.” George greeted you as he entered your shared home. “Hi, Georgie.” You replied, eyes not leaving your plans. “Are you still planning the party?” He asked.

The redhead sat across from you as he watched you hyper focused on your work. “Uh, yes. I just want everything to be perfect. I feel like there’s something missing.” You answered.

“Y/N, it’s going to be perfect. You just have to relax.” He said. “I can’t relax, George.” You muttered, hating the way he told you to relax.

“What’s really going on? I know there’s something wrong, there has been for months.” He commented.

You stopped your movements for a moment before looking up at him.

“D-Do you want to be with me? As in husband and wife?” You questioned. “Of course I do. But planning a wedding and having kids can be a lot for your anxiety, love. I don’t want you to be in that kind of environment.” George answered.

Though his answer was caring, thoughtful and putting you first, you were frustrated by it.

“George, I’m more than just this disease that I have. Every single day is riddled with anxiety but that doesn’t stop me from pursuing the things I love. I got a job at the ministry for Merlin’s sake, despite the constant feeling of not being good enough and that I don’t deserve it.” You started.

You paused to keep your emotions in check but George knew you like an open book.

“I want to marry you, George, I want to be your wife. But if me being so irrevocably in love with you isn’t enough and you only see my anxiety, then you need to let me go. Because this whole time I’ve been watching everyone in my life have what I want. And it’s not fair to either of us to stay in a relationship that’s come to a stand still.” You finished.

You cleared your throat and stood up from the table, heading into the guest bedroom. Locking the door behind you.

George inwardly groaned has he put his head in his hands. The truth was, he had decided he was going to propose to you a long time ago but then he had a conversation with one of his old friends from school and their words got in his head.

Your anxiety would just get worse if you had to plan a wedding and having to care and worry for a child would add on to that. But he was so incredibly wrong for letting that get to him.

—

It had been a week or so since the truth was revealed and Molly had invited you and George to the Burrow for a family dinner.

You and George hadn’t really talked since that day. He made it clear to you that he didn’t want to lose you or end the relationship that you both had jumped through hoops to keep.

The conversations were the usual, normal ones. Neither you of mentioning your previous conversation but the tension was very noticeable.

The whole Weasley family could tell something was off. The extended members included. You and George were usually the couple everyone wanted to be like and now, they couldn’t be happier they weren’t.

Before dinner was ready, Molly had asked if you could help her prepare dinner.

Now you’ve known Molly for years and she rarely asked people for help in the kitchen. The last time she did, it was holiday break and George asked you out the next day.

“Is there something going on with you and George?” She asked you. That was when you broke. No one had been upfront enough to ask you and the fact that someone had, was enough to make you let down your walls.

“I asked him if he thought about marrying me and he basically said he didn’t want my anxiety to ruin it. I didn’t think it was that much of an issue that he didn’t want to marry me.” You cried to the woman.

Molly wrapped you in a tight embrace and cooed you as you cried. “I don’t know what else I can do.” You added. The Weasley matriarch feared for your relationship.

Not only had you had a positive impact on his son but her family as well. Her and Arthur saw you as another daughter and they loved you as if you were their own. She didn’t like seeing you hurt especially at the hands of her son.

After a few minutes of her consoling you and cleaning yourself up, you helped her bring dinner out on to the table and took your ‘assigned’ seat next to George.

He could tell you had been crying. He knew that when your eyes were a little puffy and your eyelashes were damp, that you had been crying over him.

You had three types of crying; the crying over a book, which usually involves a couple stray tears. The frustrated crying, that involved you yelling and sobbing at the same time. And the crying over a boy. Which was quiet and sad, and he knew it quite well because it had been reserved for him for the past decade.

Under the table he placed a comforting hand on your thigh and he felt you tense under his touch before softening slightly.

Dinner soon came to an end, after the hour of grueling wedding talk and questions about when Fred and Angelina were having kids.

Everyone could see the distant look on your face as they talked about it. The only two people who knew what was actually going on was Angelina and Ginny.

While you were helping clean up the table with Ginny and Hermione, Molly pulled her son aside to have a much needed conversation.

“George, what is this I hear about you not wanting to marry Y/N?” She asked. “I-I know how it probably sounded to her. I made it sound really bad. But, I do want to marry Y/N, mum. I just, don’t know how to ask her.” George answered.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the small ring box. “I’ve had the ring for a while I just couldn’t find the right time. It has to be perfect because she deserves nothing less than perfect.” He added.

“Sweetheart, Y/N will think it’s perfect because the man she loves is asking to spend the rest of his life with her. That’s all she wants. She wants you to want to marry her, flaws and all.” Molly told him.

George nodded his head as he looked at the ring in his hand. He quietly muttered an ‘excuse me’ to his mother before going to find you. The Burrow was important and significant to the both of you and if that wasn’t the best place, he didn’t know what would be.

“Y/N, may I borrow you for a second?” He asked you. You looked from him to Ginny as she nodded her head and took the plates from your hand. George intertwined his fingers with yours as he led you outside.

The two of you walked a ways away from the house, down the path of tall grass before you had come upon the clearing. The sunflowers were in full bloom around you and the air was warm, a slight breeze blowing.

“What did you need to talk about?” You asked him, avoiding eye contact by looking at the sunflowers blowing in front of you. “Y/N, I need you to know that I love you. I have loved you since I was 14 years old and I have loved you more every day since then. You’re perfect even when you don’t think you are,” George started.

You didn’t know where he was going with his declaration of love. “It’s like that line from that muggle poem you always say, uh what was it?” He stammered. “We loved with a love that was more than love. It’s from a poem by Edgar Allen Poe.” You interjected.

“Yes! That’s it! You and I, Y/N, are the epic love story just like that. And that is why I want to marry you. All of you. I want to live my life with you. I want to have kids with you, preferably twins but I’ll love them all the same. My point is,” George paused, getting down on one knee.

“Marry me, Y/N. Please.” He finished. Your answer to him was wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He didn’t hesitate kissing you back.

The two of you parted and George looked at you with a smile on his face. “Is that a yes?” He asked. “Of course it’s a yes.” You laughed. George laughed in relief as he took the ring out of the box and slid it on to your finger.

#imagine #imagines #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter imagine #hermione granger #ron weasley #draco malfoy #angelina johnson

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tickle-bugs · 3 years

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Justice League Headcanons

So...yeah. Blame @fickle-tiction and @fanficsandfluff but I can’t get JL out of my head. I know next to nothing in terms of canon and I only enjoy a handful of DC movies, so this is the beginning of what I am calling the BEU (Bug Extended Universe).

Essentially, in the words of Nick Fury, ‘I recognize your canon, but seeing as it’s a stupid-ass canon, I have elected to ignore it :)’. A mish-mash of everything I’ve learned about DC through osmosis and my own personal vibe checks :)

This is absurdly long so everything is under the cut:

Clark Kent

- Superman? NO, Superdork.

- He’s extremely clumsy. If he wasn’t as fast as a speeding bullet he’d get his ass handed to him ten times over. He has two left feet.

- He has a sweet tooth like no one’s business. Lois once found him perched on the kitchen counter at 3 am eating the donuts she brought home from work.

- Super playful and affectionate! King of bear hugs! Country boy I love youuuuuuu

- Curses like a sailor. Do you really think Clark ‘Smallville, Kansas’ Kent is wholesome? He stubbed his toe once and yelled FUCK so loud that the windows vibrated. Everyone who isn’t in the league thinks he’s a boyscout but the league knows the truth.

- Forgets about his powers a lot. He has been known to run through walls/take doors off their hinges when he’s excited.

- Goblin. He loves messing with Bruce and roping Barry into his schemes.

- Clark being ticklish is actually smth that can be so personal? His laugh is so loud and he always goes ‘sorry’ and tries to be quieter but it does NOT work. He has flight instincts more than fight instincts so he often starts unconsciously floating away when he’s tickled it’s so cute. He giggles a lot and he’s not particularly embarrassed by it.

- Do NOT get me started on ler Clark I could write a dissertation. He is SO playful and teasy but also sweet? He definitely is the type to laugh along with his lee. He definitely allows any sort of retaliation/fighting back like,,, if you manage to crawl away it’s because he let you, and if he wants too, he can be very mean and immovable.

- Bruce and Barry are his favorite targets. He doesn’t go after Diana because, frankly, he doesn’t have a death wish. He loves to cause problems on purpose by squeezing Arthur’s side and then blaming it on Barry. (Hal Jordan isn’t in the DCEU Justice League but I wish he was...they’d be partners in crime <3)

Bruce Wayne

- Okay let’s clarify some things: he’s not actually an asshole. He can be abrasive and snarky but he’s more towards the sarcastic gruff side vs straight-up mean.

- A lot of people think he’s genuinely an asshole/disconnected rich guy because he has a terrible habit of zoning out/interrupting people? Bruce actually just has intense ADHD that he refuses to get diagnosed, no matter how much Alfred pushes him. He doesn’t care what people think about him and he’s mostly learned how to manage it, so he leaves it alone.

- That being said, his friendship with Barry has me :’) Yes, he thinks Barry’s a pest (affectionate), but they share a few science-related hyperfixations (robotics, chemical engineering, etc). They can frequently be found holed up in the Batcave with a week’s worth of food and caffeine, and they’re just....tinkering. Watching them at work is amazing because as much as they annoy each other, they respect each other :)

- He’s 100% a cat person. He doesn’t have a problem with dogs, he just prefers cats. He feeds the strays that hang out around the Manor all the time...

-...which Alfred begs him not to do, because Bruce is severely allergic. He thinks he can power through the allergies until one of the stray cats does the face-headbump thing and he’s incapacitated emotionally and physically for the rest of the day.

- He severely restrains his emotions but like...catch him on a good day or in a good mood and he’ll smile and laugh, especially in friendly company. He just generally believes in maintaining a poker face so no one can read him.

- Not to be disrespectful but...thighs. I am Looking.

- Bruce has a wonderful laugh. He’s not much of a giggler tbh but he has this open, clear, slightly scratchy kinda laugh (his voice is permanently hoarse from the Batman Voice). It’s so lovely. He has a habit of covering his mouth bc he’s embarrassed of his smile but if he finds something very funny he’ll laugh openly.

- Thee Batman is ticklish and he...doesn’t hate it? Like of course he protests ten ways from Sunday but he more minds the ‘guys stop you’re ruining my dark and brooding facade’ bit. He hates being teased though and he will throw hands.

- Circling back to the emotions thing, he’s very good at controlling his reactions, which means he has thoroughly convinced everyone he’s not ticklish. Except Clark, stupidly perceptive Clark, because he can hear Bruce’s heartbeat and see the way he clenches his jaw to avoid smiling.

Diana Prince

- WIFEY!!!!!

- Diana is hilarious okay? She’s just...so fucking funny. Her jokes never miss. You wouldn’t think she’s the quippy type, but she is, and she’s damn good at it. In a distant alternate universe, Peter Parker senses a rival.

- Loves fresh fruit, but especially strawberries? She makes frequent trips to the local farmer’s market.

- She also has a raging sweet tooth. She and Clark work together to steal sweets and buy snacks.

- Will not back down from a challenge, ever. It’s kinda a problem.

- She has such a sweet laugh :’) It’s so bouncy and melodic and she scrunches her nose. She WILL snort and it’s the cutest thing ever. Yes she’s ticklish, but no one gets more than five seconds of laughter out of her before she turns the tables.

- World’s meanest ler. Not only is she frequently on the prowl, she is near-ruthless, especially if she’s been baited. Once she sets her sights on someone, she won’t rest until she’s heard their laugh.

- Diana is very mischievous and loves hearing her friends laugh. It’s impossible to be in her vicinity for more than five minutes without at LEAST a few pokes. She is not above just,,, random tickles either.

- Nails. That is all.

Arthur Curry

- Why are his tiddies always out? Someone please explain.

- The most targeted for pranks ever. Diana especially. Something about him just attracts goblinism.

- He’s coming for Clark’s bear hugger crown. He picks people up so often that they’re just used to it now.

- Playfighting and roughhousing is his love language. He absolutely loves wrestling with anyone who’ll humor him. He and Diana frequently tussle because they’re both good sports about it (Bruce is a little bit of a sore loser. Just a smidge).

- Thinks he can get away with anything, which is decidedly not true. He just nopes his way out of the room and everyone’s like D:< get back here and atone for your sins!!! But Arthur’s already in the Pacific Ocean.

- I like to think he’s ticklish, just not super ticklish y’know? He probably has a couple hidden spots that make him lose it though. Like he’ll definitely laugh and fall over, but he can and will fight back. Oh boy, will he fight back.

- Batman: No fear.

Diana and Arthur sneaking up behind him:

Batman: One fear.

- Y’know that picture of Jason Momoa sneaking up behind Henry Cavill on the red carpet? That is extremely relevant. Arthur loves to sneak up behind people and just...take them down.

- Thinks Barry is annoying (affectionate) and the two of them are constantly chasing each other around. Barry is fast but Arthur’s strong (and wayy less ticklish than Barry)

- Physical affection!! He always has his arms around someone’s shoulders or something. He’s just a touchy kind of guy :)

Barry Allen

- Speedy boy! ADHD king! Sometimes his thoughts are also at superspeed, which means he talks way too fast and no one can understand him? But Bruce speaks fluent Barry and he translates often (though not without a labored sigh beforehand).

- Physically affectionate but casual about it? He likes to play with people’s hands while he’s talking, bump shoulders with whoever he’s next to, etc. He doesn’t really realize he does it either. It’s not uncommon for him to be talking to Clark or Diana and they just...unconsciously give him their hand before he reaches for it.

- Okay so y’know how Bruce feeds the strays? Who do you think lets them in the first place? Barry has tried to adopt every stray he comes across, and when Alfred inevitably says no, Barry runs them to the shelter himself :’)

- Gifting is his love language!!! If he sees anything that remotely reminds him of his friends, he brings it to them.

- He likes to hang out with Victor because he’s quiet, but doesn’t mind when Barry rambles, which he tends to do quite often. Barry will catch himself rambling and trail off, but Victor will encourage him to keep going, because he’s listening.

- Thee Pillsbury Doughboy. Just these high-pitched, bouncy, frantic giggles that only get worse and eventually morph into cackles. He hiccups a lot too :’)

- Okay so he’s not a flailer but he’s super squirmy. Barry will cling onto his ler’s arms just to hold onto something. He kicks his legs too (he does this when he’s not being tickled either, if he laughs and he’s sitting somewhere he kicks). He also just constantly tries to crawl away. If he isn’t pinned down he will drag himself to safety. He also has a habit of curling up :’)

- Absolutely invented the speed-tickle. He actually doesn’t often use his powers (unless he’s chasing down Clark, because Clark isn’t above breaking the sound barrier to escape). He’s just got incredible hand-eye coordination and precision. His hands will be absolutely everywhere and he is so teasy about it.

- Tries not to start fights he can’t finish, but he always gets roped into Clark’s mischief and gets targeted with revenge tickles.

- He has tickled Clark once. It was incredible, amazing, showstopping, spectacular. Literally his crowning achievement. Did Clark absolutely destroy him afterwards? Yes, but it was so worth it.

Victor Stone

- Quiet and stoic, but he’s always preferred listening and interjecting with a joke or two.

- Closest with Barry and Diana, but he’s making an effort to bond with everyone.

- Unfortunately not ticklish :( I like to think soft touches on his face will make him smile and lean away, but it’s not going to get a laugh from him.

- Doesn’t often get involved in tickly shenanigans, but when he does, he surprises everyone with how much fun he has. A different, warmer side of him comes out when he’s among his friends.

- He’s a hugger! Definitely awkward about it, but he loves hugs and just...holding his friends.

- He collects hoodies. He can’t really feel them when he’s wearing them, but he likes them and the idea of it. Barry seems to slip him a new hoodie every week. Victor has no idea where he gets them from but he’s not complaining.

- He is an enabler. He will look at Bruce like :| “no, I don’t know where Barry and Clark are, nor do I no what they’re planning” But they’re literally right behind Bruce, about to squeeze his sides.

- That being said, he won’t do that with Diana. If she asks where they are, he’ll subtly nod his head in their direction. Even in jest, he will never lie to her. Which makes him Thee person to avoid when Diana’s on her mischievous streaks.

#my headcanons #this is an academic paper #you can see me get more scatterbrained as I go on it's great #anyways welcome to the BEU #dc #justice league #...bugstice league?#(nice)#ticklish!bruce wayne #ticklish!clark #ticklish!diana #ticklish!arthur curry #ticklish!barry #bruce wayne #clark kent #Diana Prince #arthur curry #barry allen #victor stone

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fanficsandfluff · 3 years

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The Snyder Cut: Headcanons (mostly of the tickly nature)

Bruce Wayne (Batman) ~ Batfleck, my love

He’s such a lover boy, and I can say that though I don’t exactly know how to explain what I mean. You just gotta understand.

He cares so strongly about EVERYONE. e v e r y o n e. Alfred, fucking loves the guy, jokes with him. The fucking “This is Alfred, I work for him.” MY MAN, STOP!

I think he just really wants to get along with everyone and wants everyone to get along in general.

But he lowkey crushes on Diana (at least in his mind, he’s keeping it lowkey, but we all see what’s happening)

I love the idea of this big hunk of a man getting soft with someone like Diana.

She makes him genuinely laugh this one time by saying something funny, and then they’re both laughing together.

Bruce definitely has one of those laughs where he throws his head back and shit and you can see his like Adam’s apple bobbing and everything.

But that’s if he’s really laughing.

And he has loud “HA”’s that are like really short but loud and then he kinda just snickers to himself for a while, holding his stomach.

And dude, the scene in freaking uhh… i think it’s BvS I’m not 100% (maybe i fucking imagined it who knows) where she like comes over to him and is fixing his wound….. tickle scenario hand picked from the gods right there

I can see a whole, “Woah!” from Bruce when Diana traces her fingers on some sensitive skin. And that Gal Godot smile is on her in an INSTANT.

Bruce will laugh if he’s with the right person. Like I headcanon that if he’s being tickled, he will laugh if it’s done by Diana or Barry, then like he’ll be forced to laugh if it’s Clark bc he overpowers the poor bat, but then he just has these hilarious bouts of angry growls and chuckles if Arthur is going after him.

I can’t even write about Batfleck being a ler because I will literally explode, so I’m done here

(((((butseriouslyifanyonewantstotalklerbatfleckwithmehmuplz)))))

Diana Prince (Wonder Woman)

I know the GIF isn’t from ZSJL but just let me live, ok? (Also I couldn’t find the one of Gal wiggling her fingers YOU KNOW THE ONE I’M TALKING ABOUT)

First off, Gal is the most horrible queen of giggles. I’ve seen those blooper reels. My god, girl, how do you keep getting hired?

SHE HAS SUCH A BIG SMILE IT’S LIKE THE ROCK IDK HOW THEIR TEETH AND MOUTH GET SO WIDE LOOKING

Diana will start tickle fights without a doubt.

She’s already very trustful and I also feel pretty handsy with people, especially those she may feel close to. So if she’s playful, you best watch out.

Her favorite targets are Bruce and Barry. I will not take criticism. Diana attacking Barry and reducing him to panicky shrieky laughs is my #1 thought. It’s not even living rent free, I’m commissioning it to be there.

Diana is one to laugh with her victims. She will wreck them and have a great time doing so.

She’ll be ticklish if she wants to be, but it isn’t often she gets pinned and tickled or anything like that.

The guys try to stay away from her or not go after her with tickles for fear of retaliation.

AQUAMAN, CYBORG, SUPERMAN, AND THE FLASH UNDER THE CUT

Arthur Curry (Aquaman)

So…. my man isn’t really ticklish. I really don’t think he is, I feel like his Atlantean genes make his skin a special kind of hard, if that makes sense?

THAT BEING SAID ARTHUR IS THE BIGGEST LER OMGGG

He’ll try and act all cool and ‘whatever’ around the League cuz that’s kind of his persona.

But he slowly gets to like them more and more and his playful side starts to come out.

He’ll tickle Barry out of pure annoyance. Like if Barry makes any kind of comment, he’ll just point his finger out and get that glint in his eye and Barry is sprinting for the hills.

Here’s my favorite headcanon: Arthur will tickle Bruce because he knows it pisses him off when he does it. Bruce will fight back and keep Arthur in his sights at all time and curse and growl at him. And Arthur thinks it’s hilarious.

Arthur as a ler will taunt and tease until the cows come home

“Huh, big guy? What’s that? Ahawww that’s what I thought!... Not so fast/tough/etc. now!... I will wreck you.”

Victor Stone (Cyborg)

Unfortunately… not ticklish. :(

But this boy has the sweetest laugh you will ever hear, and I will die on that hill.

Now that he has friends (superpowered friends, no less), he can slowly come alive and be himself.

I can see Victor not getting involved in tickle fights at first, but at a certain point he’ll be all like, “Okay, step aside so we can do this right” and just PIN THE SHIT OUT OF WHOEVER IS BEING TICKLED. His extra robot arms are killer!

Okay, when he laughs for the first time in front of the group, there’s that cliche moment of pause where everything stops and everyone just stares and listens to him. It’s so rare to hear him laugh because the poor kid barely even smiled around them in the beginning.

He SMIRKS

Now hear me out on this…

Okay, so half a face. Great. Weird. We love it. But you can see all of mischievous Victor when the guy SMIRKS. You see his eye squint and you can swear his robot eye gets a gleam of a different color.

Wait honestly as I was writing that, the thought of Victor’s eye and like his apparatus changing color based on his mood is golden.

Me sitting here, lowkey wishing Victor’s robot body had some kind of cuddly mode like Baymax lmfaoooo

Like the defense mode his body went into when he was around resurrected Supes, but for cuddles and being cute.

Clark Kent (Superman)

I was debating even including any headcanons for Superman bc I don’t care about him much, honestly.

I am v happy they kept in the whole ‘him staring at Flash through the speed storm’ scene bc I laughed so hard at that the first time i saw Josstice League in the theater.

Also I didn’t really like the black superman costume??? I’m not a comic buff, so I’m assuming that’s why. I am like the one person who missed the color from the Josstice League cut. Don’t miss the stupid red sky in the finale, but I miss every other ounce of color that was just SUCKED right out of the Snyder Cut.

Clark and Bruce are besties now, I don’t make the rules. Bruce bought the man his house back. By buying the bank. He’ll take care of him.

And I’ve always simped for those two ever since BvS, bc I’ve already written like two fics where they tickle each other.

Clark overpowering Bruce to tickle the shit out of him makes me so happy lol. Big strong boy Batfleck looking thiccc over here… but put him against Superman and he’s donezo. Because as mentioned earlier, I do think Bruce is pretty ticklish.

But Clark can have his lee side when he’s feeling nice

He’s got that mighty chuckle, almost like how Thor might laugh.

And he really likes getting involved in tickle fights with the League. He knows all of them are sorta afraid of him on the daily anyway, but have that power added to a tickle fight and it’s fun as hell.

He’s gotten taken down by them ONCE. And I mean exactly (1) O N C E.

They all teamed up. Bing, bang, boom. Pinned him to the floor and they each took an area of skin and fucking SQUEEZED AND WIGGLED. They were trying to incapacitate him as quickly as possible. And dangummit, he laughed a lot! Like Clark realized just how ticklish he could feel if he wanted to feel it.

And don’t even get me started on Lois, he’s big on getting her to giggle and she likes toying with him and running her hands all over his body (bc who wouldn’t?)

Barry Allen (The Flash)

I waited to write about Barry last because I have so much to say about this character....

and then I fell asleep and waited until the next day to write anything down about him so now I’m totally not in the mood and I forgot all the salient points I was planning on making.

fuck you, michelle.

I got a weird relationship with this character. He was mad annoying in the Josstice League. Thank goodness they trimmed his bad jokes down.

But now....

when he got hurt at the end and he was like crying and shit oh my god I wanted to hug him

His character got so... good

And I’m now at the right age where I can think about myself in a relationship with this character with no changes or shame

We both out here trying to find that one good job after college and everything

BARRY JUST WANTS FRIENDS, GUYS

HE’S THAT CUTE

And then he got this whole found family schtick with the Justice League!!! Lookit him!!! Thriving!

He has total little brother energy

like, pesky little brother. Bothers everyone, looks over people’s shoulders while they’re deep in thought or concentrating on something.

Asks a lot of questions.

All the more reason for the gang to want to tickle the shit out of him.

Barry just reads like a super ticklish lee. Like his whole character.

Maybe touch starved because he said he needed friends, and I don’t think he has siblings??? (sorry if i’m wrong about that, comic fans)

I already named some of my fav headcanons about him getting tickled by like Diana and such, and I’m sticking with it.

Barry does flee. He runs away with super speed.... but sometimes he just kinda wants the tickles so he lets them have at him.

The chase is all part of the fun with tickling Barry, though. That’s what makes it so entertaining. And Barry isn’t afraid to be a little shit about it either. He will super-speed around his pursuers and poke their sides and tickle them back really quickly before they even know what’s happening.

Barry doesn’t exactly hold back his laughter lol. He’ll protest and scream and squirm like crazy, but once he’s actually tickled, he loses it.

Pure boy. With funny ass facial expressions.

And it really doesn’t help that I never realized just how hot Ezra Miller is, even though I heard he’s not a great person irl. Oh well.

THAT’S ALL FOLKS!

Please please let me know if y’all have things to add, to squee over, to question me about... please. anything. i’m here for you. thanks for reading, guys!

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randomfandomimagine · 3 years

Text

Love’s Worth Running To. Chapter 1: Reunited

Pairing: Barry Allen x Stephanie Williams (OC)

Fandom: Justice League / DCEU

CHAPTER INDEX • NEXT CHAPTER ➡

AO3

A/N: It’s finally here, I’m so freaking excited!! I have so many ideas for this series and I love them all, it’s going to be really fun writing interactions between Barry and Steph and with the Justice League too! Not to mention how many things are going on with the plot and the villains and the heroes!

I hope you like this series, or at least the first chapter, I’m quite satisfied with it so far. If you could reblog it and/or leave feedback, it would really mean the world to me!

The sun shines bright, at the highest point in the sky. The air is mildly warm. Summer is near. The park is completely empty at that time, too early still after school has just ended. Soon the place will be filled with loud children running, shouting and playing. She hopes he will arrive before them.

Stephanie absently-minded kicks her feet up, moving in the swing and wondering where he could be. His swing next to her is empty. It gently sways with the breeze.

“Tephie!” Soon enough, a little boy comes running her direction. He trips and stumbles as her approaches her.

“Barry” She mutters, forcing the swing to a halt when she notices he’s crying. “What happened?”

“They hit me again” It is then that she notices the red bruise on his cheek. “I ran”

“Are you okay?” The little girl jumps off the swing, meeting him halfway as he finally reaches her.

“Yeah... I’m okay...” He grits his teeth, averting his teary eyes from her.

Stephanie frowns at first, never before having seen him angry except for on occasions like that. Because of the bullies. In any case, she doesn’t understand why the other kids pick on Barry so much.

She then takes his hand, smiling at him, and starts running. He was just starting to recover from his own dash, but he gladly follows after her even as he huffs again.

“Where are we going?”

Stephanie doesn’t reply. She only giggles, squeezing his hand as they run through the park. They reach a small hill, patiently climbing their way to the top. They look at each other, never letting go of their hands or stopping to catch their breath. Now they’re both smiling.

Once they’re at the top of the green hill, Stephanie finally stops. Barry stands by her side, watching in confusion and curiosity. The little girl watches the clouds for a moment, craning her neck up and squinting her eyes at the bright sun.

After taking a deep breath, Stephanie lets out a very loud high-pitched shriek. Startled, Barry jumps in place. When she looks at him, that smile is still adorning her features.

“Try it!” She encourages him between giggles. “You’ll feel better”

Barry gawks at her, but Stephanie tugs at his hand. Giving in, he takes a deep breath. When he starts screaming at the top of his lungs, the little girl dissolves into giggles. He stops for a moment, glancing at her in surprise.

“I do feel better”

“Then keep doing it!”

The two of them join together in a thunderous harmony of shrieking voices. Their frustrated and boisterous screaming evolves into giggles. Soon after, their laughter has completely taken over. They laugh and laugh until their stomachs hurt. Looking at the other only causes them to laugh harder. But they don’t stop staring at the other.

They don’t stop smiling.

And laughing.

The alarm clocks startles her awake. Stephanie opens her eyes, meeting with the direct sight of her plain white ceiling. She groans, feebly sitting up and passing a hand through her messy brown hair. Her eyes are instinctively directed to the framed photograph on her beside table. The boy of her dream is looking at her through time, immortalized in that image. She smiles to herself. Barry Allen, the one and only. The little girl next to him, a younger version of Stephanie, is smiling wide. His arm is on her shoulders and neither of them could be happier.

Shaking her head, Stephanie gets to her feet. She calmly walks to the bathroom to get ready for work. Even as she combs her hair, as she brushes her teeth and gets changed from her pijamas to her street clothes, her thoughts wander.

That boy keeps running through her mind like he does every morning. Every day. He brings a dull ache to Stephanie’s chest. The sting of nostalgia. The big what ifs that make her head fuzzy. The yearning for regaining what she once had.

Like every morning, Stephanie forces those thoughts away the moment she leaves her apartment. She just takes a deep breath and ventures into the streets of Central City. She has a life of her own now. Without him. As much as she misses Barry Allen, she hasn’t talked to her childhood best friend in years. It’s best to forget about him. She probably won’t see him again.

Or at least... that’s what she thinks.

The Batcave is quiet that morning. As Barry absently walks in, he hopes it’s a good thing. Dropping his bag from his shoulder down to the floor, he glances around. Everything is in order. Bruce and Diana are sitting in a small round table, smiling as they chat over coffee. Victor and Arthur share a slightly bigger square table not far from them, playing cards in a mildly aggressive way that seems very much amusing to them both. Clark is intensely typing on his laptop, resting his back against the wall.

“Hey, everyone!” Barry greets them, making a little wave when they turn their heads.

“Barry” Bruce greets him back. “Everything okay?”

“Yup, pretty normal” He shrugs, going to stand between the two tables. “And here?”

“Everything is calm” Diana tells him with a warm smile.

“Really?”

“Yes”

“Just the usual” Clark pipes up, still not looking away from the screen. “Saving some people every now and then”

Barry nods his head in response. He has done that some days himself – moving a person away from a speeding car, helping people stuck in burning buildings, even getting kitties down from trees. Nothing ‘save the world’ worthy, but important nonetheless.

“So…” The boy begins, letting his dark eyes wander around the room. “If everything’s calm, what are we all doing here then?”

“Hanging out” Victor simply replies, brow furrowed in concentration as he stares at the deck in his hand.

“Hanging out, huh?”

“Isn’t that what friends are supposed to do?”

“Aw, Arthur… you consider me your friend?”

Arthur glares at Barry, fighting a smile, and shakes his head at him. “I take it back”

“Fine, okay, um…” Barry fidgets in the spot, having lots of nervous energy at the start of the day. “I’m going to get to the store, anyone want something?”

“A sense of purpose” Victor replies sarcastically, causing Arthur to chuckle.

“Yeah, I have like… 3 dollars” Barry says, digging some wrinkled bills from his pocket.

“No, thank you” Diana kindly says, playfully tilting her head at Victor in response to his comment.

“A new member to the team would be great” Arthur smirks too. “Maybe that way it’d be easier to deal with you”

“That’s it, mister” Barry points a finger at him. “I was gonna get donuts for everyone, but you’re not getting any”

Everyone chuckles, including Arthur, and they all continue with what they were doing before Barry came in. Slightly restless still, the boy sighs and picks his bag back up.

“Be right back” And he speeds off, setting the wheels of destiny in motion.

Stephanie takes a deep breath, trying to concentrate in the present. The investigation is leading nowhere, and so that dull and routinely day becomes something even worse: a waste of time. When she moves away from the microscope, Stephanie’s eyes are directed to the corridor outside the room when they detect movement.

Her smile, which had been missing, returns like the sun on a cloudy day when she sees Ben walking towards the lab. He seems to be the only dash of color in her usually gray days.

“Sorry I’m late” Ben says as soon as he walks in, dedicating her a smile that spreads warmth within her. “I had so much to do this morning”

“It’s okay” She takes her glasses off and stands away from the table.

“Any luck with the samples?” He absently asks as he puts his white lab coat on.

“There’s no change” Stephanie sighs in defeat. “The molecules have been exposed to that force field for days now and there is no reaction”

“That’s odd…” Ben frowns and approaches her. “Is the computer still glitching?”

“I haven’t touched it this time” She jokes, even if her tone holds more irritation than playfulness this time. “I don’t think it has an effect on the results in any case”

Her partner quiets for a moment, typing and reading the screen. After he has checked and introduced some commands that will alter that force field, he turns to her.

“Do you think we’re doing something wrong?”

“I don’t know…” She pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling the start of a headache forming in her forehead.

The silence settles for just a second. It falls on them forcefully, heavily.

“Why don’t you go get some coffee?” Ben kindly touches her shoulder. “The fresh air might help”

“You just want me to get you some coffee” Stephanie smiles in spite of herself.

“I didn’t say that” A cautiously playful smiles draws on his lips. “But if you insist…”

“Fine...” Her smiles lingers even as she jokingly rolls her eyes. “The usual?”

“Yes, please” Ben innocently replies, even if he’s observing the experiment.

Stephanie shakes her head to herself, taking her lab coat off and leaving the lab.

The wheels of destiny start spinning faster and faster.

The hubbub fills the establishment. Stephanie taps her foot, trying to distract herself while she waits in line. The queue isn’t moving. The other costumers also scoff, sigh and roll their eyes at whoever keeps them waiting like that.

“I know I’m twenty cents short! But c’mon, it’s just twenty cents!” A loud voice comes from the counter, at the very start of the line. “I’m craving that donut so much! Can’t you like… I don’t know… make an exception or something?”

“I can’t let you take them if you don’t pay, sir” The clerk replies in the most bored voice Stephanie has ever heard. “Give me all the money and you can have your food”

“You don’t understand” The more she hears that voice, the more Stephanie thinks it sounds familiar. It’s not exactly the tone, but the cadence and fidgety hint to it. “I have been, um…. Running... around all day, I need to eat something!”

Why is that voice so familiar? Just as she is leaning to the side to try and get a look at him, Stephanie’s heart skips a beat when she places where she heard that voice before.

It can’t be...

Her heart is now thumping inside her rib cage. The butterflies coyly start to unleash in her stomach, but she tries to keep them at bay. She shouldn’t get her hopes up.

Cutting in line, she quickly moves to the start of the queue to take a look at that person. A tall thin boy with dark hair is leaning against the counter and impatiently drumming his fingers against the glass. He passes a hand through his short hair. That second in which he hasn’t noticed her presence yet feels like an hour before she finally pipes up.

“I can’t believe it” She grins when she sees him, even if she’s shaking with excitement. “Barry? Barry Allen?”

He turns his head in her direction. His dark brown eyes are awfully familiar to her, and that’s how she knows it’s really him. The smile that appears on his lips next, sweet and bright, is the last proof she needs to confirm his identity.

“Stephanie? Is that you?” The boy squints at her, forgetting about the food. “Stephanie Williams?”

“Yes!” She chuckles, bouncing in the spot. “It’s me!”

“Steph!” Without thinking twice, Barry throws himself to hug her. “Oh my gosh!”

A big feeling of warmth envelops her as he presses her against him. Several years have gone by, but it feels like time hasn’t really passed at the same time. Stephanie feels like her ten year old self again as she is squished by one Barry Allen’s bear hugs.

Memories overwhelm her. Hot summer afternoons in the park. Movie marathons that turned into sleepovers. Chilly autumn evenings. She is even reminded of their pirate phase. All those thoughts fill her with a nostalgia that, for the first time in a decade, isn’t filled with melancholy.

“You look great!” Barry exclaims as he breaks away, much too soon for her taste, and takes her by the shoulders. “You have the same face”

“Thank you” She laughs a little, taking it as a compliment. “You have changed a little”

“It’s the jaw, isn’t it?” He jokes, passing a finger through his own face. “Makes me look older”

“I’m so happy to see you, Barry” Stephanie grins, clinging on to him and hoping the moment can last forever.

“Why, what’s wrong?” He fondly squeezes her arm. “Are you having a bad day? Who do I have to kill?”

“Same old Barry...” She laughs, shaking her head in amusement.

“Excuse me” The clerk’s voice reminds them that they aren’t alone in the establishment. “Are you paying or not?”

The both of them pause, bearing similar embarrassed expressions as they glance at the queuing crowd that stare at the pair in annoyance. When they realize they are still tightly holding on to each other, they awkwardly step away.

“Um… I’ll pay for that” Stephanie offers, politely smiling as she picks up her purse.

“Oh, thank you!” Barry effusively replies, clapping his hands together. “You’re my hero”

She laughs a little, endeared by his comment. The clerk finally hands him his donuts and the rest of his order and Barry grabs it with an excited little bounce. Then he turns to Stephanie once more, smiling from ear to ear.

“Look, I gotta run” He mumbles, fondly staring at her. “But it’s been great to see you”

“Oh, uh… yeah…” The girl sheepishly smiles, putting her hair behind her ear. “It’s been great to see you too”

Barry must have noticed the disappointment in her voice, because he frowns as he observes her. Then, after a brief pause, he places his hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, since you saved my butt back there… I could uh…” He stutters for a moment, ultimately clearing his throat and blushing under Stephanie’s amused gaze. “We could go out for a coffee sometimes, I’m paying”

“Y-Yeah!” Her face instantly lights up. “That would be great!”

“That way we can catch up!”

“You’re right, it would be lovely!”

Barry looks over his shoulder for a moment, bothered by the people that still crowd around them. Then he gulps and stares at her in expectation. Seeing as Stephanie just stands there, grinning, he insists.

“When are you free?”

“Oh” She chuckles in embarrassment. “Today I’m all booked, but tomorrow after lunch I’m free”

“Great!”

“Great”

“See you here tomorrow at… let’s say… 4pm?”

“That sounds great”

“Cool”

Barry and Stephanie still stand there, staring at each other. It feels as though that invisible string that had been so taut, keeping them apart, now won’t keep them separated any longer. Like they are physically incapable of moving away.

A wave of emotions has taken over them. All those feelings that they had forgotten, that they were once so used to when they were children and saw each other every day. The excitement slowly bubbling in their chest that spreads down to the stomach and groww bigger and bigger, the way they couldn’t stop smiling and their faces end up hurting from the big gesture, the pleasant nervous butterflies in the stomach...

“Well” Barry finally makes the move, resting his hand against Stephanie’s upper arm and lovingly squeezing. “I would love to stay, but I really really gotta go”

“S-Sure, of course” Hiding the pain in her heart, she steps to the side. “I have to go back to work too”

“See you tomorrow!” He waves goodbye and hurries to the door.

Stephanie stays there for several more seconds, watching the spot from which he disappeared. She sighs. Before the sadness can overcome her, however, she tells herself that she will see him tomorrow. After years separated, Stephanie and Barry will finally be together again.

When she returns, everything is the same at the lab. Oddly enough, it feels completely different at the same time. With her chest full and the stomach suffering the remaining of the butterflies, Stephanie walks inside. She puts her lab coat on and approaches Ben.

“I’m back!” Seeing as he is still busy with the computer, she only leaves the small plastic tray in the table beside him. “Here’s your coffee, Ben”

The young man absently turns to her and has to do a double take. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise when he takes a better look at her.

“Look at that smile…” He says, putting a hand on his hip.

“What?” Stephanie scoffs, rushing to pick up her coffee to have something to do. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me smile before...”

“I know, but that smile feels different…” A sweet grin slowly makes its way to Ben’s face. “More genuine”

“Maybe…”

“So why the change?”

“I don’t know” She lies, feeling herself blushing.

Ben peers at her for a moment longer, but ultimately gets back to work. Stephanie sighs in relief and absently returns to the experiment herself.

She does know the reason behind that change... Barry Allen. That constant presence in her life even in his absence. That boy she could never forget and that, she is happy to realize now, she doesn’t have to. Stephanie has been reunited with her beloved childhood friend, and the best part of all is she will see him again very soon.

Tag list: - // Ask to be added to be notified when I post for this series!!

#loves worth running to #lwrt #barry allen #ezra miller #justice league #barry allen x reader #barry allen x oc #justice league imagine #dc imagine #series #justice league series #dc series #barry allen imagine #original character #oc

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moonflower-31 · 3 years

Text

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer x Reader

Masterlist

Part 25

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

A/N: So, if you haven’t noticed, I’m gonna do one every other day with this so I don’t get burned out again. Hope that’s constant enough for you! Sorry about my little hiatus but I should be good now!

Warnings: Talk of murder, PTSD Flashbacks, the usual stuff.

Also, Feedback is really appreciated :)

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @serendipity-imagines, @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @thatsonezesty13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of reality - Edgar Allen Poe

Unfortunately for you, serial killers didn't know how to wait. So not two days after Spencer had finally been able to be home with you were they called on a case. Their first one without you since you were hired.

It left you with a slight dull feeling in your heart as you sat curled up on the couch reading the same page over and over as you kept losing focus. Morgan had stayed, as Spencer had promised. But he was currently asleep in Spencer's bed. Something about it being softer than his own with Savannah. Whatever that meant.

You grumbled and closed the book after your fifth attempt at distracting yourself from how lonely you felt. And how the nagging feeling of thinking you're being watched didn't go away, even with Morgan’s less than helpful presence.

You sighed and put the book down on the coffee table and picked up the remote instead. You flipped through a few channels until you find the news channel was having a 'Breaking News' segment. When the title appeared on the screen you almost screamed.

19 year old Arthur Grant goes missing from his family's estate, reward not yet posted.

You widen your eyes, your hands beginning to shake. Why? Why you? Why must you be overloaded with so much grief and trauma? Did some bereavement mailman decide to ditch his route and dump all of the bad stuff on your doorstep?

You didn't even have tears that came to be shed. You'd cried so much the past week that you had run the banks dry and squeezed more than at least 5 headaches out of you. And each of them having lasted at least 4-5 hours. Sometimes more.

Instead of your normal first step of denial, or depression in the stages of grief you unfortunately knew too well, you found anger boiling up through your feet, making your toes curl and your fists clench. You were pissed. Everyone around you was suffering because of Peter's self-absorbed, narcissistic, and sociopathic God-Complex. And you were sick of it.

You didn't care who heard, who came running to see if you were okay. You just couldn't hold back your frustration anymore: you screamed.

You threw the remote against the couch, still having half the mind to keep from destroying it. It was still Spencer's property. You didn't exactly have the 20-40 bucks to give to replace it. So, precautionary aggression was the best course of action.

Your hands found your hair and gripped tightly, letting out a frustrated and loud grumble. You could still see his cocky smirk, his evil eyes as they stared at you like you were nothing but a good fuck to him. You could hear his sickening laughter in your ear, and you could hear the rumble of the gravel underneath the tires of his stupid truck. You were almost there, same feelings, same feeling of paranoid, survival instinct came rushing into your decision making controls and overrided them.

You were engulfed in the flashback, seeing him, feeling the cold metal of the cuffs around your wrists as they dug into your skin, the shiver of having your clothes ripped off of you like you were some prize he had won, it was too much.

You were panting and holding your head, trying to make sense of everything and trying to get a grip on your own reality. You ended up backing up into the dining table and sending things to the floor. This only amped up your paranoid reaction, causing you to be on guard, but thankfully the flashback was able to end.

Then, some poor soul decided to knock on the door. Your eyes snapped towards the mahogany door and you let out an instinctive growl. You then began stalking towards the door, sneering and baring your teeth.

As you made your way towards the door, a pair of protective arms wrapped around you, preventing you from opening the door or causing anymore ruckus from your rampage.

"Woah there feisty, what was all that for? I thought you were seriously in trouble."

Morgan’s calm but worried voice was like a fire extinguisher to your anger and your guard, calming you down in a matter of minutes. The fire quelled inside of you, being replaced with a lake of sadness and pain. And unfortunately, that meant that instead of anger, well, you had to deal with tears. Which you had recently come to find were annoying as hell.

"Morgan…" you breathed, letting yourself become almost limp in his arms. You felt the tears building, almost climbing inside your eyes. You couldn't do this. You couldn't face him again. Face these memories. But you were fucking stuck with them. You had no way of forgetting them. Ever. Thanks to your stupid memory. You didn't want it. You wished you had a normal memory, or at the very least an eidetic memory like Spencer's. At least then you could forget some things. But you? No. No the only things you couldn't remember were whether or not your parents ever really nursed you or even held you when you were an infant. Even the things you did remember weren't pleasant. No warm glow, no blanket colors. Just the cold, monotone voice of your father introducing you to your 'future staff'.

Morgan held you, not asking you any questions. He just let you begin to cry and let out your frustration on him. Your balled up fist gently hit his chest a few times as you wailed and inaudibly tried to explain what you thought had happened. He didn't stop you, just tried to sooth you as the knocking sounded again.

You froze in Derek's arms, the knocking now being persistent and fear-inducing now that you had your overly cautious mind back.

"D-derek…" you whispered. Derek shook his head.

"I'll get it, alright? You stay right here." He says, gesturing for you to stay. He didn't have to tell you twice, you were still hiccuping from your sobs.

Derek slowly approached the door, looking through the peephole before opening it slowly. "Hey… you should've called first. We might've been able to answer quicker."

All of your fears and concerns and panic all ceased at the sight of the man, well more of a boy, that stood in the doorway.

You stood there in disbelief as you called to him, hoping you weren't seeing things.

"Arthur?"

○●♡●○

Spencer sighed as he was put in charge of the geographical profile yet again. He had a newfound routine in having you help him with it so much so that he found it harder to do his job.

Not to mention his mind was filled with worry about how you were at home. How your well-being was, if Morgan would be enough company for you when you had the nightmares he knew you had after everything. He'd been the one to comfort you after each and every one in the hospital. He just hoped that Morgan could still comfort you while he was away.

Not only that, but a certain Real Estate Broker had his mind doing flips and his eyes seeing red whenever he thought of him and what vile thing he could be planning next. Spencer hated being away from you. Especially when everyone knew by now that Peter was a snake and was easily able to slither away. And to sneakily find you as he had done before. Spencer was thankful now that he had asked you to stay with him in his apartment rather than your own. If you were staying in yours, the chances of Peter finding you were 90-100%. And he hated those odds.

So safe to say, Spencer's mind was at odds with itself. And to top it all off all he could think about was what it would be like to squeeze the trigger and kill Peter himself. For you. That's all he wanted was revenge for you. He'd have to make sure he didn't instigate anything, so that it would be seen as self defense. But he would love to feel the backlash of gunfire if it meant that Peter would be dead. And you would be safe.

"Hey, any progress on that profile yet?"

Spencer looked up and saw JJ standing in front of where he stood next to the map, having found himself lost in thought with his fist clenched around the little box of pins in his hand.

"Oh, uh… no, not yet. I was just… distracted is all." He admitted, pulling out the box from his hand and pinning the last two locations for the dump sites.

"From what I can see just from first glance is that the dump sites seem to be within 6 or 7 miles between each other, give-or-take." Spencer expressed, trying to flip on his work brain to no avail. He soon found himself thinking of you before he finished his statement.

JJ looked at him with a sad smile. "You're worried about her, huh?"

Spencer was caught off guard by JJ's question, causing him to turn towards her a few seconds later. "Huh? Who?" He asked.

JJ gave him a slightly teasing look. "You know who. Garcia told us and the rest of the team about your little crush on her. Apparently she overheard you talking to your mom a few weeks ago. Said you loved her." JJ reveals, a gentle and motherly smile on her face.

Spencer felt a warmth rise to his cheeks, suddenly feeling much warmer in his cardigan than usual. "S-she did?'

JJ nodded. "Mhm. It's okay, Spence. Besides, I kind of figured after how you carried her back to the ambulance. She was snuggled up on you. And you refused to let her go until you knew for certain that the lead medic had an actual medical license." JJ teased gently.

Spencer sighed and rubbed his neck, closing the box of pins so as to not spill them all over the carpet. "Is… is it that obvious?"

JJ nodded again, a slight giggle on her lips. "Am I or am I not a liaison for the BAU?" She asked, obviously giving him a half hard time. "But seriously, I know you're worried about her. We all are. But she's gonna be alright. Morgan’s with her. Even with a busted knee he can wrestle any man to the ground."

Spencer sighed. JJ was right. The only reason Morgan had been taken by Peter was because he caught him off guard and was shot before he could shoot first. He was more than capable of protecting you. So why did he feel so badly?

Spencer rubbed his face and put the box down on the map's marker holder. "I know, JJ. I just… I can't help but worry about her. What if she has a nightmare and I'm not able to be there to comfort her? Wh-what if she has a panic attack and I can't get to her cause I'm all the way out here in South Dakota?" He asked, his worries getting the best of him.

JJ lifted her non-full hand and laid it on Spencer’s shoulder, no matter how much taller he was than her. "Spence. She's going to be okay. We have people watching over your apartment building on Strauss's orders. They're doing it on their overtime. I think she's safe. Even then, you're just a phone call away, right?"

Spencer sighed again, now noticing that JJ carried with her a coffee in her hand that wasn't on his shoulder. JJ laughed. "I'd be wary of the day you don't smell coffee when it's available. You're lucky it's for you." JJ teased, handing the warm cup to him.

Spencer took it and took a quick sip of the liquid. "Thank you, JJ. Really. I… I really needed this." He says. JJ nods.

"I figured you did. Now I gotta go address the press. They're gathering like vultures out there. So I gotta be their food source." She jokes. Spencer laughed and nodded.

"Yeah… actually, most vultures tend to go for larger prey than the usual roadkill, as that is more sustenance for them-" Spencer began to ramble. JJ laughs as he caught himself.

"Yeah, just like every animal it seems." She answers before he leaves the room, opening the door wider as Garcia bursts into the room with her laptop.

"Reid! Reid I think I might've gotten word about Peter!"

○●♡●○

"Arthur?"

Your brother chuckles slightly and rubs the back of his neck. "Surprise? Please don't tell me you've watched the news. You know how dramatic mother is. I told her I was going to come visit you and-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as you very quickly engulfed him in a hug. You felt short, as he had grown much taller than you. But you didn't care. He was still your little brother. And you loved him.

"Y-you're okay… you...you've grown so much…" you begin, looking up at him as you pull away. Arthur's arms had very quickly reciprocated your hug, enjoying the first bit of contact he has had with you since you left.

"Yeah, apparently somewhere in my genes there's supposed to be another inch or two. But I think I'm done." He laughs, laying a hand on your head. You smile at him, your panic completely gone at this point.

Derek raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms from where he stood. "(Y/N), you wanna tell me who this is?" He asks.

You look over at Morgan and laugh softly, Arthur having given Morgan his most awkward expression. He really hadn't changed much.

"Derek, this is my younger brother, Arthur Grant." You introduced. Then you turned to Arthur. "Artie, this is SSA Derek Morgan. He… He was the agent P-Peter captured alongside me."

Arthur widened his eyes and held out his hand to Derek as he gulped. "N-nice to meet you. T-thank you for protecting her. She's really all I've got." He says, rubbing his neck.

Derek smiled and gave Arthur a firm handshake in return. "It was my honor, Arthur. I'm glad she's got some real family left. Not that her work family isn't good." He jokes, nudging your arm. You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself.

"Hey, as a wise man on Supernatural once said, 'Family don't end in blood'. And I think that qualifies here." You giggle softly, happy to have found even a small bit of happiness and willingness to be able to express it freely.

Arthur shook Morgan’s hand gladly and smiled his signature smile, looking back towards you. "Hey, uh… sis? Can we… can we talk? I haven't seen you for… what is it… five years now? I just wanna catch up." He expresses, his eyebrows turning up genuinely.

You sigh, but nod. "Morgan, can you go into the other room while we talk? Just for a half hour?" You ask. Morgan shrugs and nods.

"'Course kid. He's the only member of your damn family I'll trust. Just don't be gossiping without me." He teases as he leaves the room. You giggle softly as you watch him leave.

"So… how have you been? O-other than-" Arthur began, his awkwardness taking over. You sigh and hold up a hand and look at him sadly.

"Artie… please, let's just… not talk about that. I'm dealing with it. That's all that you need to know right now. You might be taller than me, but that doesn't mean that you're gonna know all of my secrets like an older brother." You tease, guiding Arthur towards the couch.

Arthur playfully rolled his eyes and followed you, mocking offense. "Oh come on, height has to factor in there somewhere Sis."

You shake your head and take a seat beside him on Spencer’s couch, sighing gently. "Nope, sorry little bro." You insist.

Arthur smiles at you and leans back on the couch, sighing as he looks at you. "(Y/N/N)... you… You have no idea how much I've missed you. I pushed myself to graduate with all honors because of you. I got a scholarship too. In business. Because you always pushed me to do better. To do my best. I… I want to do something for you in return. Please. Name it. I can start making it up to you."

You give Arthur a joking look and shook your head. "No need, Arthur. Besides, that was all you. You just needed the extra push. I'm so proud of you." You say, laying a hand on Arthur's arm. He smiled at you and took a sigh, signaling to you that the conversation was about to take a turn.

Arthur's hands intertwined with each other and he leaned over for a moment, his elbows digging into his thighs. "(Y/N)... Look I… I know you said you were okay but…" he sighed again. "Mom she… she forbade me from seeing you in the hospital, I promise that's the only reason I wasn't there. After I promised to testify against her for you she banned me from leaving home."

You widen your eyes, your mouth gaping a bit. "Arthur… y-you're testifying?"

He looked up at you and nodded. "Yeah. She assaulted you at work and literally sold you, sis. If I can put her away, along with him, I'm gonna do it. For you. I want you to be safe. I may not be your older brother, but I want you safe too. I'm gonna try and protect you like a brother should. I couldn't do much as a scrawny 13 year old you know." He chuckled. You laughed briefly, a smile teasing at your lips.

"Yeah… not really." You giggled. He shook his head and laughed back.

"Ha ha. Very funny. But really… it's good to see you sis. I… I'm sorry I didn't do enough for you back then." He exhaled, his expression solemn and regretful. You take his hands in yours and give him a reassuring look.

"Hey, just as you said. You were a scrawny 13 year old. What much could you do?" You point out. Arthur sighed.

"I could've protected you. At least told Peter to scram at least once." He grumbled. You shake your head and smile at him.

"I think I did that enough for the both of us."

Arthur smiled softly and looked down, showing you his vulnerability when it came to you. You squeezed his hands gently, assuring him it was okay.

And you both sat there in each other's company for a few more moments of silence. It wasn't an awkward one, so there were no awkward feelings.

Arthur spoke up a few minutes later, having come up with an idea. "Can… can I at least pay for your therapy? I can pay for it with the money dad gives me. You… you need to see someone. I saw someone, you pushed me to go see Dr. Francesca and now I see her every two weeks. Please… let me do this for you."

You sighed as Arthur began to try and persuade you. Damn him and his puppy eyes. He still had the gift.

"Tell you what, how about we call Derek back in here and we watch some procedural cop show that we can all laugh at and I'll tell you what I decide later?" You narrowly avoid. Arthur thankfully notices this and drops the question.

"Only if the show is dumb enough for a citizen like me to laugh at it." He settles.

You giggle and nod. "Deal!"

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papermoonloveslucy · 3 years

Text

NEW LIFE IN LUCY

July 20, 1952

By WILL JONES, Minneapolis Tribune Staff Writer

WITH HER SECOND BABY on the way and her second career in its peak, Lucille Ball is busy trying to make the facts of real life jibe with the facts of TV life.

The complications are going to affect all fans of the nation's No. 1 TV star - particularly those in Minneapolis.

Her pregnancy may delay the return of her TV program, "I Love Lucy," to the air this fall, for one thing.

And it has already meant, for sure, that she won't be in Minneapolis for the Aquatennial. (1)

"I Love Lucy," now off the air for the summer, is supposed to resume Sept. 8. Miss Ball and her husband and co-star, Desi Arnaz, are trying to stall the starting date until sometime in October. (2)

Exactly what good that will do when her baby isn't due until January is one of those facts of TV life that will take some explaining. Miss Ball explained a few things to me in Hollywood last week, and I'll try to pass them long.

Movie studios have been known to speed up shooting schedules of single pictures to accommodate motherhood. But Miss Ball can't shoot 39 films (3) in a hurry, before her condition begins to show. It already shows.

BY THE TIME I had my talk with Miss Ball, the full Impact of the news had already hit her and her organization; They already had decided - with kibitzing from the Columbia Broadcasting System, the sponsor, and other interested parties - one big point:

Miss Ball's unborn child, come winter, is going to have to be part of the act.

They were in the midst of working out some of the details. Scripts for all of next season's "I Love Lucy" programs already had been outlined when Miss Ball discovered her condition. The outlines have been set aside, and the writers have been told to think up some funny new slapstick routines for an enceinte heroine.

Fortunately, "I Love Lucy" is a Mr.-and-Mrs. program. Its family comedy, while often outlandish, has been accepted by its fans as still being pretty true-to-life.

There should be enough funny situations involving expectant couples to keep the subject from getting tiresome.

IMPENDING PARENTHOOD isn't a new subject for comedy, but there has been little of it on TV, there hasn't been much on radio and it's been rare in the movies.

And there's never been an expectant mother quite like Miss Ball.

Even if it were possible to hide her condition - other actresses have accomplished it with the aid of special costuming, trick lighting and such devices as keeping partially hidden behind furniture and bushes - Miss Ball would be against it.

"If I turned up one week suddenly standing still behind some camouflage, it wouldn't be me," she said. "It'd be a fraud. I've got to move around."

Miss Ball had just come from a visit to her doctor when I saw her at her orange ranch in the San Fernando valley, about an hour's drive from Hollywood. (4) She had been discussing her condition with CBS executives, as well as with her doctor, on the same visit to town.

"The doctor told me the baby's going to come a little earlier than we expected," she said. "He says about Jan. 15. (5) He also told me I could work as long as I feel all right.

"At first we thought I might have to quit work in October. Now I don't know."

WORKING BEFORE the cameras while with child isn't entirely a new experience for Miss Ball. She was pregnant when she made the "I Love Lucy" audition film that won her and Arnaz their present contract with the network and sponsor.

But her year-old daughter, Lucie Desiree, was born before she had to go on the air with the new series.

Five of this fall's programs are already filmed. ("I Love Lucy" normally is shot five weeks before it goes on the air, so Miss Ball and Arnaz were five programs ahead before they started their summer vacation.) (6) They plan to resume shooting in a week or so. That will put them 10 programs ahead by Sept. 8, the date they're scheduled to return.

If they get to postpone the program a month they'll have a 14-week backlog of films by the time it starts. Some of the best of last year's programs will be rerun during the weeks Miss Ball won't be able to work. (7) Just how much of a part the baby will play in "I Love Lucy" after it arrives is matter that hasn't been decided.

"I ASKED THAT QUESTION down at CBS this afternoon, and all I got was blank stares," said Miss Ball.

"I'm sure we won't have a situation involving the baby every week, though."

"You could have a funny baby sitter for a character," put in a her publicity man, Ken Morgan who also is her brother-in-law. "You could build a very funny program around a funny baby sitter."

"I'm sure we could," said Miss Ball. She glared at him with mock ferocity: "And what do I do while the baby sitter is being funny?"

Arnaz, a real-life rumba bandleader, plays a rumba bandleader named Ricky Ricardo on "I Love Lucy." The plots usually Involve the wacky things that happen when his wife, Lucy, tries too hard to help him get ahead.

Although the names have been changed, and the Amazes' private life isn't anything like the Ricardos'. TV life, followers still associate the performers closely with the roles.

As long as they're forced to bring one child Into their TV world, I wondered If they might not try to get their TV life in line with their private life.

"That's another question I asked at CBS this afternoon," said Miss Ball. "They didn't have an answer for that, either, "Everybody's been on vacation. We haven't even had a chance to sit down and talk these things over yet."

THEY'VE TALKED over a few things, of course. Miss Ball showed me an "I Love Lucy" baby - a doll set with clothes, feeding equipment, soap, gadgets, etc. - that has been put together by a toy manufacturer in anticipation of the event. The set includes a letter about the baby from Lucy and Ricky. (8)

"It blows bubbles, wets its pants, everything," said Miss Ball proudly. She also played a record, "There's a Brand New Baby at Our House." ("...she's changed our happy house to a home..."), sung by Desi. He wrote the music when Lucie was born. A friend, Eddie Maxwell, wrote the words. (9)

Desi hasn't made any records for a long time, so nothing much happened with the tune. The recording companies are after him again since the success of "I Love Lucy," however, and "Brand New Baby" may be his first new record. (10)

The sudden success of "I Love Lucy" - in one season, it topped Arthur Godfrey, Milton Berle and Red Skelton (11) in all popularity ratings - has left the Amazes amazed.

I was sitting in Morgan's office when he got the news that "Lucy" had hit a rating of 70 - an unheard-of-high figure in one of the TV popularity-rating surveys.

Arnaz came into the office at that moment Morgan told him the news.

ARNAZ LOOKED WORRIED. "You're kidding," he said.

"That crazy Cuban is scared," confided Morgan after Arnaz had left the office. "He doesn't know what to make of all this. He thinks of all those people tuning in, and he worries."

In 20 years as a movie star, Miss Ball never had the acclaim she's had in one year on television.

"People stop me on the street and talk to me now," she said. "That never happened when I was in movies. I was in Ohrbach's this afternoon, and I had to ride up and down four times In the elevator just listening to people tell me about the show.

"The only time people In the street bothered to talk to me before was when I made ‘The Big Street.' (12) But It was nothing like what's happened In the past year. And Desi and I are the two most grateful people in the world.

"You have no Idea what It's meant to us. We're real hams, you know."

BESIDES GLORY, "I Love Lucy" also has meant shorter hours and a happy home life for Mr. and Mrs. Arnaz. Before TV, Lucille had to get up at 5:30 or 6 every morning to go to the studio. She didn't get home until 7 or 7:30 p.m. and she was exhausted. If Desi wasn't on the road with his band, she had to go to a nightclub to be with him In the evening.

Their marriage almost broke up because of the schedule. Lucille once filed for divorce, but never followed through. (13) In the movies, Miss Ball had to work five or six long days a week. Now she puts in four eight-hour days.

Arnaz, who Is president of their company, Desilu Productions, has to attend to production and business matters in addition to his acting. That usually means a 10- or 12-hour day for him. But he, too, insists on a three-day week-end.

"We don't think about the show we don't even mention it from Friday night to Tuesday morning," said Miss Ball. "They wanted me to look at the scripts a week ahead, so they'd have more time to work on the clothes. I design all my own. But I wouldn't even do that, for fear I'd start worrying about next week's show over the week-end."

AS VICE PRESIDENT of Desilu productions, Miss Ball gets a chair on the set with "Veep" printed on back. Occasionally she signs some papers. "But may I say that I don't know what I'm looking at?" she said.

Desilu now is producing the TV version of "Our Miss Brooks," starring Eve Arden, which will go on the air this fall. (14) As executive producer, Arnaz has had to be on hand during much of the "Miss Brooks" filming this summer.

"But all I hafta do," said Miss Ball, "is go over and pat Brooksie on the shoulder now and then and ask her where she got those clothes. She comes in with some wonderful things."

"Our Miss Brooks" is being filmed exactly the same way as "I Love Lucy." It's a combination of movies, TV and summer stock, a system worked out by Desilu.

The Amazes are especially proud of it because, before they started, everybody told them it wouldn't work. Nobody figured a couple of actors could run a complex producing organization.

They film their shows in an independent movie studio that was all but abandoned before they moved in. (15) Now the place is bustling with other TV people, including Burns and Allen, who are copying the Desilu system.

BLEACHER SEATS for 300 people were built into one side of the sound stage. Part of one wall was cut out to make a street entrance for the audience. A small sign, “Desilu Playhouse," hung on a wrought-iron support outside, adds to the summer-stock atmosphere.

The schedule goes roughly like this: Tuesday is devoted to learning the script, which al ways runs more than 40 pages. Miss. Ball sketches her clothes and gives the designs to the dressmaker.

There are rehearsals Wednesday. The program is rehearsed straight through, like a play. Thursday there's a full dress rehearsal, with cameras and lights. There's a bull session afterwards, with the writers present, to weed out the weak spots.

When the program started audiences were invited to the dress rehearsals, but Lucille and Desi found they got all worked up and gave better performances Thursday night than they did on Friday, when the program is actually filmed.

NOW THEY RELY on the laughs of the crew on Thursday nights to tell them what to keep in and what to change.

Three movie cameras, moving in and out among the actors like TV cameras, record the Friday night performance. The program is played straight through, the only stops being for costume changes. The audience is allowed to whoop it up as much as it wants. Audience laughter is recorded and used in the final soundtrack.

The photographer, Karl Freund, a roly-poly man with a thick German accent, was all but retired when Miss Ball asked trim to film their show. She liked the way he had photographed her at MGM. ("We fought like cats and dogs, but when it came off on the screen, I never looked lovelier.")

He spent a week in New York studying TV methods, decided everybody there was all wet, and dreamed up his own system. (Freund was the first Hollywood cameraman ever to move a camera during a scene, mounting it on a rubber-tired arrangement known as a dolly. Without his invention "I Love Lucy" now would take two or three times as long to shoot. Many inventions now incorporated in Hollywood studio cameras are his, too.)

ARNAZ' STUDIO CHAIR has "Prez" painted on back. (When Freund wants him, however, he Just yells for "Young man with old face!" Arnaz' black hair is shot with gray that doesn't show on TV.)

William Frawley and Vivian Vance, the character actors who play the couple next door, have special chairs, too. Frawley's is labeled "William Frawley, Boy Actor." Miss Vance's label is "Vivian Vance, Girl Actress." Their work is admired so much around Desilu that they got a raise before they ever asked for it.

"I don't know how long they're signed up for," said Miss Ball, "but by God if it isn't for a long time, I'll have to speak to Desi." There's a sign in the Desilu rehearsal hall: "anyone that enjoys work can have a hell of a good time in this institution." Everybody, apparently, does.

There's a board with names of the cast members painted on it. There are gold stars stuck behind the names. Anybody who gets off a good crack, goofs, or otherwise relieves the tension that, comes with the hard work gets a gold star.

ON SHOW NIGHTS, Arnaz, cook and gourmet, serves everybody in the crew a big dinner in the rehearsal hall. The Amazes have a bungalow on the lot in which they live during the day. The living room is decorated with water colors of and oil paintings by Miss Ball, who goes in for landscapes when she paints. (16)

There's also a large dressing room and a bright yellow kitchen. They stayed there over night during Los Angeles' floods a few months ago, (17) but otherwise they go home to the ranch every night.

"I hate to get up in the morning in the same place I'm going to work all day," said Miss Ball.

An extra project is under way at the Desilu studios this summer. The TV show has caused so much talk that people in non-TV areas have demanded to see what all the conversation is about.

Three of the best "Lucy" programs from last season have been selected for showing in theaters in areas not yet reached by TV. They're being tied together with a story about a couple who have trouble getting tickets to the program. (18) (That's a real problem. Handling tickets got to be such a headache that Desilu turned over ticket distribution to CBS. Now the people at Desilu often can't get their friends in.)

The "I Love Lucy" feature movie is being put together by Ed Sedgwick, a director who used to make some of Miss Ball's movie comedies. I've never considered Lucille a comedienne." Sedgwick told me. "She's a comic. There's a difference."

SUCCESS OF "I Love Lucy" has opened the way for all kinds of other sidelines. Desi wears smoking jacket. Tailors want him to spearhead a campaign to revive the smoking jacket. Other clothing men spotted the narrow lapels on all his suits, and want him to endorse Desi Arnaz narrow lapels. (19)

Manufacturers want Miss Ball's clothing designs. There's a line of Lucille Ball blouses being readied. Now, of course they're talking maternity dresses, too. (20)

Another outfit is ready to put out Desi Arnaz bongo drums. (21) "Ethel" (Vivian Vance) wore an old-fashioned kitchen garment known as a swirl on one program. Now there's, a merchandising tie-up for "I Love Lucy" swirls. (22)

Even before word got around about Miss Ball's upcoming maternity, doll manufacturers were proposing deals. So there's going to be a red-headed Lucille Ball doll. (23)

Since one-third of the pro grams fans are figured to be small fry, the doll is expected to be a popular item. Morgan, a native of Devil’s Lake, N.D. looks after most of such details. And then there's talk of an "I Love Lucy" radio program. Miss Ball was on the air with "My Favorite Husband" a few seasons ago, but radio acting is a new experience for Desi.

THERE'S A POSSIBILITY the sound tracks of old TV programs may be used for a new radio program, with some narration to fill in what the audience can't see. (24)

So, with all the success, has come more and more yearning to get away from on week-ends.

The Amazes figure they see enough of each other during the week. So, although they're homebodies, they do quite a bit of getting away from each other on week-ends.

Miss Ball usually sticks to the ranch, a quiet, five-acre place lush with vegetation. The orange groves are there because they look nice. "You know, I've never eaten one of our oranges," said Miss Ball. "I tasted one once, and it was so sour I couldn't finish it. We get our oranges at the market."

They have a deal with the Sunkist people, who tend the crop, harvest it and keep the place in shape in exchange for the oranges.

Arnaz, who has a mania for fishing, spends all or part of every week-end on his 35-foot fishing boat. He doesn't shave when he's fishing. He was away on the boat when I visited the ranch.

MISS BALL was out back, in a cluttered yard she calls "the farmer's market," sitting in a wooden lawn chair. She looked tired. Her face, in the evening light and against her shocking-pink hair, looked paler than it probably was. Her mother, Mrs. Desiree Ball, was looking after Lucie, who was toddling around the edge of the swimming pool. Three frisky spaniels bounded up to meet me.

Miss Ball called them away sharply. "They stink," she said. While we talked, she watched nervously to see that they didn't knock the baby into the pool.

Presently Mrs. Ball said good-by, and headed for the house with Lucie. "Tell Ethel I want a demitasse!" Miss Ball called after her. "And tell her I want it to get rid of the garlic she put in the meat!" (25)

After she settled down with the coffee, she said: "There's one thing I really like about television. I don't have to worry about glamor any more. Well, my hair is still combed. But I don't have to worry if it isn't."

From her chair, she started conducting a visual tour of the place, pointing out behind her an overgrown shelter with lawn furniture Inside. ("It's some kind of a Cuban hut that Desi built. I think they call it a bohio.") She pointed, too, to a huge outdoor fireplace. ("Desi built that, too. But we found out it's too far from the house. We don't use It any more.")

Across the swimming pool she pointed out a strange lath structure, also built by Desi. "We never found out what he had in mind," she said. "We've never used it for anything."

We walked across the lawn to inspect one of Arnaz' more practical bits of carpentry: a place they call a bathhouse, which is really a huge cottage used for parties. It has a long rumpus room, finished in dark pine, with a film projection room at one end, and a behind-the-bar kitchen that's exclusively Desi's. It's fitted with a large, black, old-fashioned gas oven, another barbecue and outsize copper utensils.

Miss Ball peered suspiciously into a huge copper kettle on the stove. "Desi uses this for soup, she said. "He spent three years getting the recipe from Antoine's." (26)

When Arnaz cooks, he always makes a large mess. He never cleans it up.

"I enjoy spoiling my husband," said Miss Ball, "and he enjoys spoiling me. I don't expect him to clean up." She thought a moment. "I don't know what he doesn't expect of me."

She pointed out a mounted marlin of which he's proud, some built-in seats he designed and constructed, and then led the way to the house. It was dark outside now.

"Be careful," she said. “There are wires on these trees, and people are always falling down."

INSIDE THE HOUSE, in a long tile-floored room facing the yard, we came across a third barbecue.

“Desi isn't happy unless he has a barbecue at his fingertips," she said. Another thing the Amazes are well supplied with is TV sets. They have four, including the one in the bathhouse.

"We always watch our show," she said, "usually with friends. Monday is our canasta night. Sometime we're over at the Charlie Ruggleses, sometimes at the Dean Martins. (27) Wherever we are, we stop for a half hour to watch."

We took a fast walk through the house. "It won't take you long to see this place," said Miss Ball, leading the way through the long early-American living room, the bedroom, Desi's study, Desi's dressing room, and then down a long corridor, past an enclosed patio, to the nursery wing.

"Desi built this, too," she said. "We keep a carpenter here full time to help him. Since we started the show, Desi hasn't had any time for building, but we still keep the carpenter busy."

THE NURSERY - a three-room affair designed to accommodate two children - cost more than the house itself. The center room Is a gleaming-white, clinical-looking place Miss Ball calls "the laboratory."

It's loaded with sterilizing equipment, kitchen equipment and laundry equipment. The Amazes keep a nurse, as well as a maid-cook and the carpenter. Desi's mother and Mrs. Ball both live nearby, and look in frequently, so Lucie gets plenty of attention when her parents are at the studio.

Miss Ball has taken her to the studio for visits, but never takes her in for a day when she's working. Arnaz's band appears on one out of about every four "Lucy" programs. It's pretty much the same one he started with in Florida. He formed it after he broke away from Xavier Cugat in the '30s.

The band doesn't travel or make public appearances any more, but the musicians are as glad that Arnaz has settled down as he is. They have a family life now, too.

They work around Hollywood, playing at the movie and recording studios and at various clubs. And they're always on call when they're needed for "Lucy."

Miss Ball and Arnaz planned to come to the Aquatennlal on the way to New York for a series of magazine interviews. One of the things that had convinced them was a two-page wire from Arthur Godfrey singing the praises of Minnesota and of Cedric Adams, who would have been their host.

WHEN THEY found out about the baby, they still planned to come. Then Miss Ball's doctor ordered her not to. He ruled out the New York interviews, too. They went to Sun Valley instead, for a rest, but cut their visit short when they found themselves the center of attention from other guests. (28)

The act they planned to do here was one they had to dream up in order to prove to CBS that they could do "I Love Lucy." Before the program started, one of the big objections they got went like this: "Nobody will believe that Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz are husband and wife."

Arnaz had a simple answer: "We are." But nobody paid much attention to him.

The two made a theater tour with a Mr.-and-Mrs. routine, just to see if audiences would accept them that way. It clicked. That's what made CBS decide to go along with their first notions about TV.

# # #

FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE

(1) The Minneapolis Aquatennial is an annual outdoor event held in Minneapolis, Minnesota, during the third full week of July. Originating in 1940, the Minneapolis Aquatennial celebrates the city's famous lakes, rivers, and streams.

(2) Instead of September 8th, the second season of “I Love Lucy” began on September 15, 1952, not in October as was first considered. It kicked off with the now iconic “Job Switching” (aka Candy Factory episode), which had been filmed in late May 1952, before this article was published.

(3) Although season one of “I Love Lucy” had produced 35 episodes (the most of any “Lucy” sitcom), season two only clocked in with 31 new episodes. If their original goal was 39, they were 8 short.

(4) Before her Beverly Hills mansion, Lucy’s dream house was in the San Fernando Valley. Desilu Ranch, as it was called, was a ranch-style home on five acres at the intersection of Devonshire Street and Corbin Avenue in Chatsworth. The home was demolished in the mid-1970s to make way for subdivision development.

(5) Lucille Ball gave birth on January 19, 1953. Because it was a Caesarean birth, Ball had some leeway with the date. Naturally, she opted for a Monday so that her real son and her TV son could be born on the same day, making television history in the process.

(6) The five shows that were already ‘in the can’ for Fall 1952 were: "The Anniversary Present" (filmed May 9, 1952), “The Handcuffs” (filmed May 16, 1952), “The Operetta” (filmed May 23, 1952), “Job Switching” (filmed May 30, 1952), and “The Saxophone” (filmed June 6, 1952). Although “Job Switching” was filmed fourth of these five, everyone knew it was a knock-out hit, and it was aired as the season 2 premiere. This explains why the photos that accompany this article are glimpses from two as-of-then unaired episodes: “The Anniversary Present” and “The Operetta.”

(7) Desilu also came up with Flashback Intros (filmed without Lucille Ball) to introduce repeated episodes. Fred, Ethel, and Ricky would open the show with a “remember the time...” premise and then a repeat episode would be aired. These were not included in the syndication prints, but some have turned up as DVD extras.

(8) The ‘I Love Lucy’ baby doll was a big seller for Christmas 1952. The doll’s gender was deliberately kept vague until after the birth of Little Ricky in January 1953, after which a new infant doll branded “Little Ricky” was released. There was also a Little Ricky puppet baby doll.

(9) “There's A Brand New Baby (at Our House)” was first sung on “I Love Lucy” in “Sales Resistance” (ILL S2;E17), the first flashback episode after Lucy went into the hospital to have the baby. The lyricist Eddie Maxwell was the real-life husband of Eve Whitney from “The Charm School” (ILL S3;E15).

(10) After the above episode aired on July 26, 1953, announcer Johnny Jacobs promoted that the song (he calls “The Baby Song”) was available on Columbia Records (a division of CBS, naturally) with the “I Love Lucy” theme song on the flip side.

(11) Arthur Godfrey’s show “Talent Scouts” was “Lucy’s” lead-in on Monday nights. Godfrey himself promoted the show, asking viewers to ‘stay tuned.’ Red Skelton had a variety show on CBS, competing with NBC’s “Ed Sullivan” on Sunday nights. Milton Berle hosted “Texaco Star Theatre” on NBC, another variety program. If Monday nights belonged to Lucy, Tuesday nights were owned by Uncle Miltie. All three performers guest-starred on “Lucy” sitcoms. The above 1953 TV Guide cover makes it clear who is top of the TV totem pole. Red Skelton is not depicted.

(12) The Big Street was released in August 1942. If people were stopping Lucy on the street, it may have been to compliment her performance in what was her favorite film. They may have also been curious about performing in a wheelchair.

(13) Lucille filed for divorce from Desi twice. The first time was in September 1944, citing infidelity and incompatibility. Ball returned to him before the interlocutory decree became final, nullifying the divorce. The second divorce, in April 1960, stuck.

(14) “Our Miss Brooks” had been a big hit on radio starring Eve Arden and Gale Gordon, who would repeat their roles on television. Although not formally produced by Desilu, it was produced at the same studio and used many of the same actors (Gordon, Richard Crenna, Mary Jane Croft, Frank Nelson) that would appear on “I Love Lucy,” including, in one episode, Desi Arnaz. The show started one year after “Lucy” and ran one year shorter.

(15) General Service Studios was located at 1040 North Los Palmas Avenue, in Hollywood. It started life as a movie studio in 1919, and was variously known as American Zoetrope, Hollywood Center Studios, and now, Sunset Las Palmas Studios. Desilu outgrew the location in 1953, and moved to larger digs known then as Ren-Mar, now Red Studios.

(16) Not much is known about Lucille Ball’s painting pastime. We know that she signed her paintings ‘Balzac’.

(17) From January 13 to 18, 1952 heavy rains hit the Southern California area. On January 18 alone, 3.17” of rain fell in Los Angeles in a 24-hour period. The storm was responsible for eight deaths due to flooding in Los Angeles.

(18) The “I Love Lucy” Movie consisted of three episodes edited together: “The Benefit” (ILL S1;E13), “Breaking the Lease” (ILL S1;E18) and “The Ballet” (ILL S1;E19). New scenes were filmed to help connect the three episodes into one cohesive whole. Also, new wraparound segments were filmed. The opening segment shows the studio audience filing in for the filming. Desi Arnaz welcomes the audience and introduces the cast as he typically did before every filming. In the closing segment, Arnaz thanks the audience and Lucille Ball and the cast take their final bows. The film was given one preview before it was shelved. It may have been pressure from MGM, who had their own “Lucy” movie in the works, The Long, Long Trailer, or it may have been felt that the film diluted the television programs value. Either way, it was Lucy and Desi’s final call to shelve the project. It has since been released on DVD.

(19 & 20) Merchandising was a big part of selling “I Love Lucy” to the public. When actual items were not mass marketed, patterns for the items were available. Advance had the license for “I Love Lucy” patterns.

(21) The Desi Arnaz Conga Drum (not Bongo drum) was made in 1952 by A & A American Metal Toy Company of Brooklyn, New York. It was nineteen inches high. It is one of the rarest of the original “I Love Lucy” collectibles valued at $2,000 to $5,000!

(22) Swirl was a brand of house dress that often buttoned up the back, had pockets, and a tie belt. Vivian Vance wore several designs by Swirl on the show, including one of her famous arrow Swirls advertised in magazines and newspapers.

(23) Long before Mattel made their Lucy Barbie, there was a Lucy Ricardo rag doll. The doll had orange hair, blue eyes, bow lips, and an apron with heart-shaped pockets, just like Lucy. It was given away by their sponsor Philip Morris in 1953.

(24) On February 27, 1952, a sample the “I Love Lucy” radio show was produced, but it never aired. This was created by editing the soundtrack of the television episode “Breaking the Lease”, with added Arnaz narration (in character as Ricky Ricardo).

(25) It sounds as though, quite coincidentally, Lucille Ball’s Chatsworth cook / maid was named Ethel! Either that, or Ball is joking.

(26) Antoine’s Restaurant was also mentioned in Eleanor Harris’s 1954 book The Real Story of Lucille Ball.

(27) Charles Ruggles (1886-1970) was a character actor who appeared in over a hundred films. Like Lucille Ball, he made the transition to television with a series called “The Ruggles” (1949-52). He was married to Marion LaBarba. Dean Martin (1916-95) was a singer and comic actor. He appeared as himself on “The Lucy Show,” in one of Ball’s favorite episodes. From 1949 to 1973 he was married to Jeanne Biegger, who appeared as herself on the “I Love Lucy” episode “The Fashion Show.”

(28) Sun Valley, Idaho, was a favorite getaway location of the Arnaz family. It is a is a resort city where tourists enjoy ice skating, golfing, hiking, trail riding, cycling, tennis and (of course) skiing. The world’s first chair lift was erected in Sun Valley in 1936. Lucy and Desi set a 1958 episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” in Sun Valley, and even went on location to film.

#Lucille Ball #Desi Arnaz #Chatsworth #I Love Lucy #1952

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banshee-cheekbones · 3 years

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

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

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

~1800 words, on ao3 here.

second chance at a first impression.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why is the universe so unfathomably strange?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankfully, the woman just shrugs.

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

Close enough, Barry thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whose name they still don’t know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 17

Wordcount: 3, 927 Rating: T for strong language and mature themes Chapter synopsis: Alfred woke up wanting to take things slow, all so he can enjoy the morning with you. You, however, were in a rush to regroup in the wake of a sinister conspiracy. He's too stubborn to hear the truth, so you bribe him to listen with an amorous gesture. When he does find out, he gives you an earful. Allen snaps back and rediscovers his motivation to keep him away from you. Meanwhile, Alfred's clone survived. The only person who knows isn't even meant to be on the planet, and he's helping Alfred 2.0 find his place in the world. Everyone's struggle to free themselves from the tyranny of your father continues. The war rages on. The reader is referred to as she/her.

17 - Rebirth of the old

Alfred was never keen on staying in a motel. But the appeal of it hit him like a tidal wave first thing in the morning. You were here, half-dressed and curled up next to him in a proper bed. To think this was how things used to be—he couldn’t take it. He lost something more valuable than gold! Not giving a shit about anything else? He was living in luxury.

To hell with Arthur and Zao. He couldn’t relate to their long-distance struggles and he didn’t have to. But more importantly, to hell with Allen.

The bed creaked as he leaned to you. Reaching out to your cheek, he patted it continuously. "Hey. Get up. It's past noon, lazy." Alfred kept at it until your peaceful expression scrunched up, indicating the return of your consciousness. He grinned. This marked the beginning of another good day. Snaking two arms around your waist from behind, he pulled you onto his lap as he sat cross-legged. "Up we go. Sleep well?" You lolled your head on his shoulder. "I know I did." He snorted.

You inhaled a deep breath to wake yourself up. Fluttering your eyes open to look at him groggily, he tilted his face down fondly. That, you could never get enough of. It showed in the floaty smile across your face. He chuckled, "What, you're not gonna talk to me? Don't leave me alone with my thoughts here."

He heard a scoff, the sound prompting him to pin your head with his chin. "I thought you would've gotten used to it by now. Your brain works fast." You sighed that out jokingly. Alfred hummed as if to say, touché. "Morning." You murmured raspily. However, your exhaustion was short-lived—did he say it was past noon? You tensed up in his hold and sat forward, twisting your form to him, panic-stricken.

"Dude, why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

You slid off his thighs, much to his displeasure. The quiet morning he wanted was no more. "Oh, God. What time is it?" Planting your feet on the brown carpet, you spun to him briefly for his answer. Alfred merely hung his head. Quietly. He stayed put where he was while you walked off to get dressed. So much for walking on the same wavelength.

"Well? Don't leave me hanging, Astroboy." Glancing at him over your shoulder, your expectant gaze welcomed a dash of frustration as he made no effort to get off the bed.

He looked up with a shake of the head. "I was just kidding, toots." The man then grinned mirthlessly as he slid off the mattress. "It's only nine. Don't fuss."

Breathing out a sharp sigh of relief, you placed your hands on your hips. But nine was barely sufficient for what you promised. Seeing that he never bothered getting dressed, you looked from side to side to find his clothes. It was in a heap on the desk.

"I'm not fussing. I just said we'd be back by morning. Now, work with me." You picked up his shirt, pants, and jacket, then tossed it to him one after the other. "You're making me nervous."

Alfred caught them with ease. "Don't fuss. You're fussing." Why you were so hell-bent on getting out of here was beyond him. Sparing him a brief glance of displeasure, you walked off to the bathroom without another word. His point exactly.

Sleep wasn't something he needed. But judging from where this conversation was going, his energy was about to be sapped away faster than he could deal. He appeared in the doorway while you washed your face. As you scrubbed away furiously, he folded his arms with a brief shake of the head. "You know, no matter what, we still gotta grab something to eat." He began. "So you can slow down."

You patted yourself dry before turning to him. Catching him in a hard stare, the silence became a sure-fire sign of your unwillingness. You never actually planned on eating anything before going back. But now that he mentioned it, it wasn't such a bad idea. "... Yeah, of course." You smiled. "We'll just go to FamilyMart. There's one down the street, and we can pick some stuff up for the gang... Just in case."

Just in case they wanted to chew you out for disappearing in the middle of the night. By they, you really only meant Allen. He was the only one who knew, after all. "They're probably worried, so we should give them an offering to appease them." You chuckled light-heartedly.

Alfred knitted his brows together until creases formed between them. What the hell? This was exactly what he didn't want to hear. Since when did everyone else have such a significant place in day-to-day life? "Worried? Then why did you leave in the first place?" He asked, reaching out to grab your hand. "Just hear me out. Hear me out." He squeezed you hard. His iron vice and low tone were all you needed to predict what he was about to say.

"You said you wanted to be alone with me. How come now that you are you're racing to get back? Slow down a little, won't you?"

For a night, everything could be swept under the rug. But it couldn't stay hidden forever. You forced yourself to look at him anxiously. "We have to get back to the group. We have to stick together." He shook his head with a hand over his mouth. Seeing how unhappy he was about that demand prompted you to add this. "Alfred. Just get to the car. I'll tell you everything. You'll understand, I promise."

He licked his bottom lip, disgruntled. What was there to tell? He took your other hand to hold you in place. "No. Let's not do that." Alfred asserted through a glower. "And it's Al. Al. Either you call me that or some stupid pet name. Whatever you want. Just not Alfred." You narrowed your eyes, confused by the growing temper in his voice. He never had a problem with what you called him, so why now?

"Okay, fine. Al. Will you go to the car, now?"

The man rose his brows. Did you seriously think he could be convinced? "Make me, baby. You can try dragging me out, but I'm fine right here." He took a seat on the toilet and gleamed at you sarcastically. You folded your arms and shot him a look of irritation. A few moments of tense silence passed before he continued. "Last night was nothing, you know that. So why can't we have the morning to ourselves? Just an hour? You can't say no."

You swayed from side to side. It was endlessly frustrating that he was misunderstanding everything so terribly. It was never about not wanting to be here. "Would you stop being so difficult?" You huffed angrily. He shrugged dismissively, then reached out to pull you in against your will. "I'm serious, Al. I'm not playing games with you. Something's wrong. It's about him." Hissing out the last word, you saw something change in his expression within seconds.

Christ on a bike. Alfred stared at you through his eyebrows sternly. But he decided to save the questions for the car. "... Fine." He relented, much to your relief. But something was glinting in his electric blue eyes. Was it mischief or something else?

"But I'm not moving til' you kiss me."

Blood rushed up to your face as you heat up with mortification. Was he serious? He looked serious. "What the fuck, Al. Didn't I just impress on you the importance that you get off your ass?" He remained quiet. His gaze on you was unwavering and expectant. He honestly couldn't mind if you tore him a new one for this. If shit was going to hit the fan again, he needed to set one thing straight.

Seeing that he was deciding to be stubborn, you gave in, but not without a frustrated huff. And so, you kissed him on the lips.

You gave him what he wanted. When your mouth connected to his, the force was enough to move his head back. You'd give him his money's worth—a hard, angry kiss—though he barely paid anything with boldness. But boldness was exactly what you needed. It coaxed you to be somewhat honest with yourself, as you'd be lying if you said you didn't want this too.

Alfred's eyes were as wide as dinner plates during the exchange. He didn't actually think you'd do it. In fact, the pleasant surprise caught him so off guard, he never even got the chance to return it before you pulled away. When you leaned back with a deep inhale, which was hotter than he cared to admit, he gawked at you like you just shot him. "Woah." He spluttered. His chest was whirring so crazy you could probably hear it. "I was only joking."

"No, you weren't." You muttered as a matter-of-factly. He laughed nervously at you, then fell silent. Way to go, Alfred. He thought. The second-hand embarrassment made you light up like a Christmas tree. Fortunately, it was staved off by urgency. "Car. Now." You ordered. The man watched you leave through the door while he was left reeling.

Bewilderment, giddiness, it was all there. He didn't waste any more time to scramble onto his feet and run after you. "Hey, wait! You didn't even let me kiss you back!" Alfred exclaimed, picking up his pace. The metal door slid downwards behind him to a close. "Can we kiss in the car? I'll be good after that, I swear."

"I swear to God, Alfred. Now is not the time!" Your shouts trailed off into the hallway. It was never something you could say out loud, but this—his inability to let things go—was his best attribute. It saved what needed saving.

Himself, you, and what you both were together.

Shooting up with a start, he twisted around a white bed in his bout of grave disorientation. He stopped when a sharp pain shot through his abdomen. "Ah, crap." While he hunched forward to wince, his heart pounded alarmingly hard in his chest. As loud as it was, it couldn't beat the monitor beside him that beeped away. "... Still alive, huh?" He murmured. This had to be the most sterile environment he'd been in for a while.

Perfectly polished metal walls, and not a spec of dirt in sight. There was nothing in the room except everything he was currently using. He ripped off the electrodes on his chest, then the IV drip from his arm. The heart monitor flatlined as abruptly as his movements. While he slid off the mattress, a voice interrupted his silent haven.

"If you wanna stay alive, you'd wanna take it easy."

He whipped his head to the source. "Jesus, Zao." He took a deep inhale before continuing, watching the said man tilt his head up as a greeting. Why the guy even saved him after kicking him around like a football was beyond him. But more importantly—"And would you stop doing that?" He shook his head with disapproval. "You're turning into an omen of death, always showing up when I'm fucked up."

The other unfolded their arms and walked towards him. Slowly, grudgingly. "Invulnerable or not, you're one hard guy to kill. You're just like him." The brunette remarked, causing his companion to narrow their eyes fiercely. Zao scoffed with a growing smile. So he hit the mark. "But you are him. Aren't you?"

"Don't fuck with me, man." He glowered, picking up a vacuum-sealed packet of clothes on a trolley. Alfred tore open the packaging with next to no grace. "You can start by telling me what the hell you want from me. And I'm not planning to be your guinea pig for a sick little experiment." While he spoke furiously, he hopped on one foot to put on a pair of pants. It was endlessly vexing how he seemed to find himself in the same place over and over again.

Somebody was always playing with his genetics, one way or another. This somebody being his oldest nemesis.

"I've had enough of crazy science freaks treating me like some... Extinct animal. This isn't Jurassic Park."

Zao threw his hands up defensively. "Listen, I may be a scientist, but not that kinda scientist. I don't clone people." Alfred threw on a jacket and glared at him. He was beginning to wonder if he was developing some prejudice for biology majors. And this guy, well, they were never particularly chummy in the first place. "I clone plants. Big difference there."

The blonde rose his brows and laughed mirthlessly. That certainly made him feel better. "Right, right, sorry, a farmer. My bad." He muttered sarcastically. "And what does a farmer have to do with my sorry ass? You want something from me, don’t you?"

The answer was in the question. This guy’s story was so disturbing it fazed the unfazed. "What do you have that I’d want? I already have enough shit on my plate." Zao snorted, popping a few gummies he dug up from his pockets. His scarlet eyes darkened. Catching the other in a look so foreboding, they were shocked this was the same person. "Not everybody is out to get you. I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of saving your life just to fuck it more than how fucked up it already is. You can do that yourself."

Alfred’s eye twitched, but his mouth never opened. This guy did look like the type to have a silver tongue. The assumption only manifested into reality as they continued. And without mercy, at that. "Allen told me about you, you know?" He tensed up. His ears were ringing, almost as if his body knew to reject what he was about to get into. "You’re not from around here. You make enemies with the yakuza, and somehow, you skip half a century and end up here so they can take you on in their prime."

Zao circled him tantalizingly while he stood frozen still. It was like being tied down and scrutinized against his will. He didn’t like it. No, he hated it. But something about his lack of filter was relieving—he was forced to confront his demons in the worst way. "You’re something. Not just anybody makes it to Matsumoto’s kill list. What you did, what happened to you, even gives me the goosebumps."

His anger was too hot for him to think. But he knew better than to lash out. Not after some clarification first. While he clenched his fists until the veins began to pop, he kept his eyes on the ground. "I’ve spent the last twelve hours being well and truly fucked with, so if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on—" Alfred lifted his head for a heated stare burning with conviction. "I may as well lose my temper."

"Of course." The brunette mused, turning his feet towards the door. Once again, he was barely impacted by the threat that loomed over him. All his life, he had much bigger fish to fry.

"If you couldn’t tell, I was about to get to that part."

The Alfred everybody knew was never the first to walk this Godforsaken Earth. His mind was the same, but his body wasn’t. He was the second version of himself, having become a creation of metal parts, silicon, and everything flesh and blood couldn’t handle. What about the Alfred that stood before him? How was he any different? He never asked to be made, and now that he was, Zao thought he deserved just as much of a fighting chance.

"You didn’t have to do this." He muttered raspily with his head down. If it weren't for his ravenous hunger, he would've stayed in that hospital room. But it was too much to handle. And so, they changed locations to a ramen stand smack-bang in a commercial district. Picking up a cup of steaming miso soup, he took a small sip from the rim. "You shoulda’ just left me on the ground to bleed out."

"And let you die in one of the VIP rooms? Dead bodies aren't great for business." The other remarked, fully expecting a glare from him. But it looked like his spunk was gone. He never responded, not even with the least of a glance. Zao had to wonder if he was aggravated from his empty stomach back there. Little did he know, his anger was quelled by something else entirely. "... Want some painkillers?"

Alfred shook his head and covered his eyes with his palms. Everything still hurt like hell, but it balanced out everything on the inside. No matter how much food he consumed, he couldn’t swallow down the bile in his throat. It was only a matter of seconds before the waterworks started. Boy, he'd forgotten how good it felt to cry. "What the fuck..." He laughed dryly. To think you were responsible for this—he couldn't handle it.

The brunette rested his cheek on his hand, which he propped up with an elbow. Darting his discerning red eyes to Alfred's mouth, his brows came together. It was twitching as he forced a smile.

"Do you hate her?" Zao asked.

He swallowed thickly. "No."

"Of course you don't." He continued. The certainty in his tone caused the blonde to look up. There in all its ugly glory was his face blotched with patches of red. Zao was no sentimental person. But seeing him like this could shake anyone to their core. "I was there. She was hesitating because she wanted to give you a chance." Alfred wasn't sure how much he agreed with that statement. But there was one thing he could put his faith in.

"Doesn't change the fact that she did this for you."

Alfred fell quiet for a few moments. "What are you trying to say?"

"What do you think, Einstein?" Zao raised a dish of sake at him, almost on a celebratory note. If he was right about his assumptions, you've never shot a gun before, let alone offed someone with one. There could only be one reason for your eagerness to kill. "She's high-strung about you, dumbass." At first, he had to shake his head at how clueless Alfred was. Once it finally began to click, as evident in the blood rushing up to his face, Zao slapped a hand down on his shoulder with an amused look. High-strung, huh.

"Give it a few days. Once you're not so crippled, we can rock up to Arthur's place. She won't push you away, trust me."

The redness flushing Alfred's cheeks disappeared just like that.

"Are you crazy? They'll fucking kill me!" He whisper-shouted, slamming his fists down on the counter. "Not just the other me, but Allen too. And maybe she'll wanna do the same cuz' everyone else is."

Zao clicked his tongue. "Will they? You're stupider than I thought."

"Have you forgotten how you even came into this world? The man in the sky! Matsumoto. If they're gonna get rid of him, they need all the help they need. They're gonna have to take you in."

Allen had been up since five. He was half-awake and sprawled across the couch, struggling to keep himself conscious. He barely managed any sleep last night. Rolling his tired eyes to the digital clock on the kitchen island, he squinted at the neon figures. 10:26. You said you both would be back by morning, and it was nearly eleven. And eleven was pretty much twelve. Clearly, you were up to something. Something you were too kind to let him know what.

But he was something of an over-thinker himself.

He slid further down the couch until his head was the only thing against the backrest. Currently, he was in the bargaining stage. If you really chose Alfred over him, your best friend, big brother, and everything Alfred wasn't, that didn't mean he couldn't be in your life, right? Yeah! If you both moved out somewhere, he could be the live-in housekeeper. That sounded pretty swell.

The door slammed open. In stormed the subjects of his thoughts.

"Your dad made a clone of me, and you didn't tell me?!" Alfred exclaimed with the utmost terror. His shouting was the perfect splash of cold water to wake him up. So Allen stood up, concerned at the scene that was about to unfold before him. "And you... You shot him. How did that feel like? You said he was dead?" You marched into the living room and spun to him, eyes-wide and heavy-hearted.

Your mouth was wide open, but the words were caught in your throat.

"I..."

Alfred's nostrils flared. This was what you had to tell him? He couldn't comprehend why you put it off. How could you withhold something so important from him? He whipped his head to Allen, who didn't seem all too shocked at what he was witnessing. No way. "You told him, (F/N)? Is he in on this too?" He pointed to the man accusingly, all while keeping his hard stare on you.

"Or is this why you both were gone for so long? Why didn't you tell me?" He sucked in a sharp breath before raising his voice.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me?"

"Because I was in shock!" You snapped fiercely. Alfred froze while Allen's expression darkened. "It was just one day later. I told you in the morning, didn't I? Why are you so angry?" Allen could admit he felt pity for the poor bastard, but he was finally seeing him for what he was. A setback on your life. On his. Alfred didn't deserve half the attention you gave him. He couldn’t let Alfred have his way with you anymore. Even now, a light tremble had seized your body because of his selfishness.

You were forced to relive those memories, and the brutality of it was enough to blur your vision. But you had enough of crying. Crying over Alfred and crying in front of him. So you blinked the tears away before taking off. Alfred reached out to grab your hand, but you slipped away too seamlessly. "(F/N), wait—I'm sorry—" He begged, "—come back!"

Fuck, why did he have to be so goddamn explosive all the time? He’d been so caught up with himself, he never stopped to think how it could impact everyone else. He was never good at listening. Hell, he couldn't do it to save his life. That statement rang particularly true when he felt like he just lost something—broke something. What he had with you. In the end, his inability to let things go didn’t just save it. It ruined it.

Before he could follow you back into the guest room, Allen grabbed him by the collar and throttled him. Alfred stumbled back a few steps out of shock. He’d never seen him this furious. "Just face it, skin-job. You’re a fucking drag on her life." He seethed, shoving him back roughly. "She should’ve walked out on you ages ago. But she’s too good for you."

With one last bitter glare, he added this to rub more salt into the wound. "Once we kill that old fuck, I’m not letting you do what you please. I’ll be haunting you like your demons. One wrong move and you’re dead." Allen growled. "I even wish she never killed your clone. That way, I can kill you twice."

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harmonymurphy · 3 years

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And just for my records, I think I had the most profoundly disturbing dream of my life last night, about the sun failing. One of those dreams that wouldn’t be that disturbing to anyone I describe it to, and the physics was laughably illogical, but I’ve never experienced such a deep sense of existential dread inside a dream before. Probably one of those “you had to be there” experiences.

I’ve had dreams about serial killers after watching Forensic Files. I’ve had dreams of hauntings and demonic possessions after reading too many supposedly true ghost stories. But last night’s dream was the product of my fascination with astronomy. And that’s not something I’m willing to take a break from.

In my dream, I walked outside and noticed the lighting was wrong. It was like during an eclipse where everything is too dim but your shadow is still normal. I looked up at the sun, and it looked like Hoag’s Object. It was much bigger than it should have been, with the central part being a little bigger than a full moon, but it was dim enough that I could look right at it.

After a few minutes of panic, an emergency message was broadcast on all channels announcing that scientists at NASA had come up with a hypothetical way to study the sun’s core. They had discovered some sort of energy beam that would cause convective currents to dissipate. In my dream, the entire sun down to the edge of the core was convective. They thought if they zapped it at the sun, it would interfere with the convective layers and allow then to view the core directly. So they tried it without clearing it with the rest of the scientific community, and the beam completely shut down the sun’s convection. Not just the little spot they planned on, but the entire sun. What I could see up in the sky was the sun’s exposed core, the surrounding gas was now clear since it wasn’t producing light anymore, and the ring around the sun was the remnants of the sun’s corona. (Clearly my subconscious got really confused and squished together aspects of the sun, red dwarfs and white dwarfs, and the Trappist-1 system and how close those planets are to their sun. I’m actually a little embarrassed at how wrong the science was.)

So everyone started demanding they come up with a solution to fix the sun, and all they could come up with was maybe they could hit the sun with a nuke to restart the nuclear reactions, but it would take years for them to design and implement that plan, and they didn’t think they could produce an explosion big enough. And in the meantime, Earth was rapidly cooling. It was already feeling like late autumn outside and they expected the planet to go full Snowball Earth within twenty years. The dim light the sun’s core was putting out somehow couldn’t be used for photosynthesis by plankton, so the oceans were going to collapse by next year, and crops were going to start failing.

I went back outside and looked up at the sun again and started screaming for someone to please wake me up because this couldn’t be real. Then I had this epiphany that this was the solution to the Fermi Paradox: Every alien civilization eventually reached a point where they turned their sun off and their planet froze.

People started going crazy since everyone was going to die soon anyway. A big mob attacked our town and my sister and I were surrounded. Then this guy ran up to us and brandished this three-foot-tall sculpture made of metal plates and said it was an idol of a new god he had just discovered, and since science had betrayed us, the supernatural was our only hope. The mob attacked, and he started praying to his new god, and the sculpture zapped all the people trying to attack us. I started praying with him and briefly was able to shoot electricity out of my hands like the Emperor. After the mob fled, we got the rest of the town to form a circle and all started calling on the god, and up above us the sun’s core brightened for a few seconds, then dimmed again. The guy declared that the gods had forsaken us and all hope was truly lost, and he took his idol and left.

After that, the dream alternated between me discussing options with my sister, and going outside and begging someone to wake me up. We talked about finding the guy with the idol and getting the biggest group we could together to call on his god, but I eventually just sat down in the middle of a road and decided it was hopeless. There was no point in doing anything if we’d all be dead in twenty years. I was thinking about the books I want to write and how there was no point in that now. Every time I looked at the sun, I felt the same way I felt in the days after my father died, when I’d be kept up most of the night by panic attacks at the thought that he was gone forever. I didn’t know it was possible to feel that level of despair in a dream.

Eventually I started discussing suicide with my sister. We didn’t want to starve or freeze. Someone was handing out syringes of poison, and we each took one. But then I realized I’d have to put my chihuahua Rocky to sleep first because I refused to leave him by himself, and I just couldn’t do that. So we agreed we’d stay alive until Rocky died and then we’d end it. And then I realized I couldn’t find Rocky, and I was worried someone might try to eat him since there would be a food shortage soon, so my dream became one of those where you keep running and running but you never make any progress, and I kept looking up at the sun, consumed with the thought that everything was about to come to an end and all of human history was for nothing, and I just couldn’t believe this was actually happening to me.

And then my sister woke me up, and I have never been that happy to wake up in my life. I almost thanked her for waking me up, but then I realized I didn’t want to tell her about my dream. I just sat there and kept telling myself it was just a dream over and over, because no matter how bad and illogical the science was, no matter how backwards my mind got the details of how stars work, it had felt so real. I was going to sit with my sister while we ate supper, but I still felt so disturbed by the dream that I kept zoning out and staring off into space at nothing, so I decided to eat in my room alone.

I can point to a dozen little things from the past week that inspired the dream. Primarily it was based off my real fear of the future red giant phase of the sun - watching videos about it actually scares me. This week I had been thinking about a game called Outer Wilds that involves a time loop that always ends with their sun exploding, and while I think it looks interesting, the premise also stirs up my sense of existential dread. Other things were inspired by a song I had been listening to the previous night containing the line “I don’t want the sun to burn without you,” the Hadron Collider, stellar lifting (and probably several other things I learned about from Isaac Arthur that I’ll remember in the next few days), videos I’ve watched recently that discussed Snowball Earth and the evolution of plankton, the Chicxulub impact, that ongoing attempt to get a space probe to touch the sun with gravitational help from Venus that will take several years to complete, memories of my brother telling me scientists thought there might be a chance hydrogen bombs would ignite the atmosphere or the Van Allen belts but they blew them up anyway (never fact-checked that so don’t quote me), the concept of strange matter and how it could “infect” anything it touched, the danger of astrophysical jets from a supernova, and wondering if the sun could have habitable planets if it was fully convective like a red dwarf since the sun spins so slowly and a lot of those dangerous flares are a result of how fast red dwarfs spin. The weird supernatural elements were inspired by some stories I’ve been wanting to write lately, as well as my recent replay of the game Blue Fire with its very bleak setting and mythology. And a Youtuber I follow had recently read a creepypasta with a title that referenced solving the Fermi Paradox,

All in all, I would rather have a dozen nightmares about demons chasing me through the woods than one more nightmare based on science. I can still make myself shiver by focusing on how I felt when I looked up at the sun and realized the world was dying.

#Brevity is an alien concept to me #I wish I'd just dream about demons again #Sci-fi nightmares are so much worse

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rachelkaser · 3 years

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Stay Golden Sunday Reissue: The Heart Attack

Note: This is a repost of an older Stay Golden Sunday that had to be redone for housekeeping reasons.

Sophia becomes very ill one night and is convinced she’s going to die. The Girls confront the idea of mortality.

Picture It…

The Girls bid farewell to their guests as a storm rages outside. They praise Sophia for the meal she cooked for everyone, and Blanche says it was even better than the food she ate in Italy. The Girls tell Sophia to take a load off in the living room. They start the dishes in the kitchen, while Rose talks about her family’s Scandinavian cooking.

Back in the living room, Sophia says she’s got a “bubble” of pressure in her chest. Rose thinks it might be gas, but Dorothy says her mother isn’t looking so good. Blanche goes to call the doctor. Sophia clutches her chest as the bubble turns to pain. Dorothy lays her down, while Sophia worries she could be having a heart attack. Blanche says the doctor was out, so she called the paramedics.

DOROTHY: Ma, you know, you don’t look good. SOPHIA: I’m short and I’m old. What did you expect, Princess Di?

The two discuss their family’s deaths – which include a fall from a donkey and misfiring a gun while taking out the garbage – to rule out the possibility of heart disease. Blanche and Rose talk about how death should come without pain or illness, getting sidetracked until Dorothy shuts them up. They go to make coffee, while Sophia begins to worry she’ll die. She starts giving Dorothy instructions on what to do after she’s dead, and says Dorothy was always her favorite, even if she never showed it.

In the kitchen, Rose and Blanche discuss death. Rose says her family members live to their 90s and 100s, which Blanche attributes to the Minnesota cold slowing down the aging process. They also discuss cremation vs burial: Rose wants to be buried with all her sentimental items, while Blanche wants to be buried in Arlington Cemetery because it’s full of men. Sophia tells Dorothy she loves her. When Rose and Blanche return with the coffee, she thanks them for keeping her company. She decides to rest while Blanche goes to call the paramedics again.

BLANCHE: Do you want to be buried or cremated? ROSE: Neither! BLANCHE: What do you want to be, flushed down the toilet like a goldfish?

Rose tells Dorothy it’s probably not a heart attack, as she’s seen one and they’re bigger. She recounts Charlie’s heart attack to Dorothy, which happened while they were making love (she told Arnie this back in Episode 3, but this is the first time she’s told one of the other Girls). She dressed him before emergency services arrived, and his last words were that he loved her. Blanche returns and says the paramedics are held up by the storm, and they’ll just have to wait… and pray, as Rose adds.

The Girls crowd Sophia, who wakes up and tells them she had a near-death experience and saw Heaven. She describes seeing her husband and asks Dorothy to get her rosary. Blanche’s main interest is if there are lots of men in Heaven (which… why wouldn’t there be?), and eventually goes to help Dorothy. Left alone with Sophia, Rose bugs the crap out of her by recounting farm stories.

BLANCHE: What about men? Are there lots of men in Heaven? ROSE: Oh Blanche, come on! BLANCHE: Well you asked her about God and Jesus!

In Sophia’s room, Dorothy’s going through Sophia’s things, looking for the rosary. She tells Blanche that she’s not ready for Sophia to die, and that she’ll still feel like an orphan at her age. She breaks down in tears at the thought, and Blanche comforts her by saying Blanche and Rose are her family too, and they’re there for her.

In comes Dr. Harris, presumably Elliott’s replacement as their house-call doctor. He inspects Sophia and finds her side is sensitive, so he asks her what she ate recently. The girls list a truly disgusting amount of food, including scungilli, fried mozzarella, and two boxes of Milk Duds. Dr. Harris says it’s not a heart attack, but more likely a gallbladder attack from overeating. Sophia is instantly relieved, but takes back what she said about Dorothy being her favorite now that she’s not dying.

Later that evening, the Girls minus Sophia (who’s presumably resting) talk about mortality in the kitchen. They question the reason they worry about things like dieting when they’re going to die eventually – a thinly veiled excuse to eat some chocolate cake and ice cream. They do eventually get turned off of the dessert when they realize that, while they are going to die eventually, they’ll feel the negative effects of overeating immediately, like Sophia did. They decide to go out for a walk (one hopes the storm is not still raging), and Blanche brings it back around to her favorite topic:

BLANCHE: Let’s go for a walk. ROSE: Right, burn it off! DOROTHY: Are you kidding? After what we ate, we’d have to walk to Canada. BLANCHE: Oh, Mounties! I love Canadian men!

“You couldn’t say ‘belch?’ What is it, a Viking curse?”

This is the first episode that centers around Sophia, and given the multiple references to her age and health in the preceding nine episodes, it’s fitting that it’s about a health scare. Estelle Getty, who has mostly played comic relief up to this point in the series, gets her shot at carrying the dramatic half of an episode – and she definitely delivers.

To be a little real with you, this episode has been hard for me to watch the last few years, ever since my mother died. She was the one who introduced me to Golden Girls, and episodes like this hurt both because I know now she and I will never have that Dorothy-and-Sophia rapport in old age like I always assumed – my mom was not even 60 when she died – and because I was basically in Dorothy’s position at the time. If I could have chosen a quote to describe the months of my life after my mother died, it’d probably be this one:

DOROTHY: It doesn’t matter. You lose a parent, you might as well be six. It’s scary. And it pushes you right up to the head of the line.

I appreciate that, when confronted with the possibility that she might die, Sophia’s not accepting or serene even though she’s very old. I think there’s a perception that, when you get old, you just have to accept that you might die soon and be okay with it because you’ve “lived a full life” or some such nonsense. Instead, Sophia outright says “I’m not ready” and that she’d take even one more day of life.

I leave it to other shows to try and teach people to accept death with grace. I prefer Golden Girls’s way, which is to say “Screw that,” and portray the octogenarian matriarch as not wanting to die. There’s something very real in Sophia saying she never really thought she would die.

SOPHIA: 80 years old, and it would come as a complete surprise.

There’s quite a bit of real-world backstory to this one, too. Originally, it was intended to be broadcast live, which is why it’s the first episode since the pilot to take place entirely within the confines of the Girls’ home. According to Golden Girls Forever (quite a treasure trove), NBC had done a live episode of Gimme a Break and attempted to replicate its success with a night of live shows, ostensibly to promote Saturday Night Live. Golden Girls would have been one of about five shows to air its episodes live.

At first all the other shows were onboard, but then showrunners protested the final offering of the night, a detective show called Hunter, couldn’t be filmed live. So the live plan was scrapped. Director Jim Drake remembered it as being for the best, since the actresses weren’t really equipped to do the show in a single live, continuous taping. While their shows were filmed in front of a live studio audience, they still had the option of doing multiple takes. Somewhat relevant, but here’s a video of Golden Girls bloopers:

youtube

The other real-world issue that influenced the filming of this episode was one that also cast a pall over the previous episode – the death of Bea Arthur’s and Betty White’s mothers. But while it seemed to throw off the chemistry of the previous episode to a certain extent, if anything it helps this one. There are differing accounts as to whether Rose’s monologue about Charlie’s death was drawn from the deaths of White’s mother or her husband, Allen Ludden. I suspect it’s a combination of both, but you can see she’s genuinely crying while talking about it.

My only real criticism of this episode is that the final scene doesn’t really seem like it’s attached the rest of the story. The Girls talk about their own mortality, and how the fact of dying makes things seem trivial. They don’t even mention Sophia, despite the rest of the episode revolving around her. It feels like a discussion they might have after a friend died – or, more accurately, a scene inserted by a writer who wanted to opine about death for five minutes.

That’s not even mentioning the fact that the way the Girls behave in this scene is very at odds with the rest of the episode. It’s just strange to me that they’d come to the conclusion that, since they’re going to die, they might as well gorge themselves on rich food, when doing so is the exact reason Sophia had a gallbladder attack – and they just heard a doctor tell her that.

Regardless, this is another great Susan Harris episode, and the first episode that puts Sophia front and center. While it’s a bit melancholy there are enough jokes interspersed throughout to keep it from being a downer.

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰🍰 (four cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

The Girls crowd around a sleeping Sophia (see the image at the top of the article), and she wakes with a shout, scaring them all. When Dorothy asks her what’s wrong, she says:

SOPHIA: What? You’re sitting on top of me. I open my eyes, I see pores like that, I think I’m on the moon!

#golden girls #stay golden #stay golden sunday #the heart attack #rose nylund #sophia petrillo #blanche devereaux #dorothy zbornak #s01e10 #picture it

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chubbyreaderwriter · 4 years

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I Need Friends Pt3

Barry Allen (Justice League 2017) x Plus Size/Chubby Reader

Imagine: You’re the new girl to join the Justice League and Barry doesn't hesitate to ask for your hand in friendship.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: literally none, just pure fluff.

Part one Part two

Masterlist

- previously -

You were watching the screen while Barry spent most of the night looking at you and thinking about how lucky he was that he just got be this close to someone as perfect as you.

Diana was the first one to notice that the two of you were crushing on each other and she thought it was adorable and liked the idea of you two getting together. Not knowing how the others would react, she didn't tell them, deciding to let them figure it out for themselves. With all of the others being men, with you as the exception, she was always noticing the small things that others would miss. Like how Barry’s eyes lingered on you longer than anyone else and how he would stare after you when he thought nobody was looking. Or how you would get a little fidgety whenever Barry was sitting close to you and you would always make eye contact with Barry when he speaks but if the other guys talked to you, eye contact would be very limited.

Diana wanted to take it upon herself to get the two of you together, being the romantic she was, she wanted to see you both happy. Had it not been for Diana’s meddling, Bruce would've taken longer to catch on to yours and Barry’s feelings for each other. He first realised when Diana had told you and Barry that the team where going to watch a movie together but when the two of you turned up, there wasn't anyone else. The next day, Barry asked Bruce why he didn't turn up to the movie night. Bruce didn't think much of it until he overheard you asking the same thing to Diana and she replied that she forgot she made plans already. Bruce confronted Diana and she told him that she was trying to get the two of you together.

So that’s how you had Bruce and Diana meddling to try and get you and Barry together. Bruce wasn't usually one to get involved in people's private business but he had to admit, it was interesting and it would be fun to hold over Barry’s head when he’s older.

Barry was none the wiser to Diana and Bruce’s plans but you were getting suspicious. There was only too many accidental cancelled plans and scheduling changes that you could count as coincidence. You knew that they were trying to push you closer to Barry but you didn't understand why. Sure, the two of you liked each other, but just as friends. Well, you knew he only liked you as a friend, or so you thought anyway. You were deep in thought, thinking about how you were going to get revenge on Diana and Bruce when a certain Speedster got your attention.

“Hey (Y/N), you wanna go to the theme park with me? I asked around but nobody else wants to go with me. I figured you might wanna get out of this mansion. I guess there’s only so much richness you can handle at a time huh?” You gave Barry a small smile, “Sure, I’ll come with you, just gimme an hour or so to take a shower and get dressed.” Barry left and you were grateful to be alone because as soon as he left, you could feel your insecurities rise again. He asked everyone else before you, did that mean you were the last resort?

No, you weren't going to think like that, you’re just overthinking things. You got out of bed and headed to your adjoined bathroom, turning the shower on to heat up while you sorted out your clothes that you were gonna wear. Diana had taken you shopping for new clothes a couple weeks ago and you decided to use some of them, finally having an opportunity to pick out a decent outfit. You chose a black dungaree pinafore dress with a plain long sleeved white shirt underneath and a pair of white sneakers. You grabbed a random set of bra and panties, as well as ankle socks before heading to the bathroom to take your shower.

Once you were out of the shower, you quickly got dressed and brushed your hair. You decided to the top half into a ponytail to keep it out of your face and you grabbed your phone to put in the pocket of your dress. It was a little hot outside so you didn't think you’d need a jacket or anything. Looking in the mirror, you thought you looked pretty cute but then you thought that you might be doing too much. What if he thought you thought it was a date? You were starting to regret your outfit choice when your door burst open and Barry was stood there. “Sorry, you said an hour and it’s been an hour so I just came in and-...wow, you look pretty.”

You blushed and fiddled with the hem of your sleeves, looking down at your shoes, “Thanks.” Barry was wearing black jeans, a plain dark blue shirt and his signature red and black jacket. The two of you walked downstairs to head out, with Barry talking to you about all the different rides he wanted to go on. He told you that he’d never been to one before, never had the money, but this time, Bruce had given him an allowance for the theme park to use for the both of you. You tried not to laugh at how much Bruce was acting like a dad to everyone, you found it strange that he was so paternal when he doesn't have any children of his own.

The two of you were right next to the front door, seconds away from leaving without anyone noticing, when you heard, “Are you two dating or something?” You turned around to see Arthur leaning against one of the doorways, looking at you two with amusement but also curiosity. Diana, who was watching it all on the tv screens in Bruce’s ‘batcave’ gave a heavy sigh on frustration. Why couldn't Arthur keep his mouth shut for two seconds?

Barry blushed and normally would just have let it go but he saw how embarrassed you were getting and cleared his throat, “So what if we are, it’s none of your business.” Arthur raised his eyebrow but before he could say anything else, Barry grabbed your hand and sped the two of you to the end of the drive in front of Bruce’s mansion. You let go of him when he stopped but the both of you were a little disappointed to let go of each other’s hands. You were blushing because Barry didn't deny that you were dating and he also stood up to Arthur for you. Well, he took you away when you were getting uncomfortable but still, he was the closest to your knight in shining armour you’d ever gotten.

It was silent for a little while as you two started walking towards town, until Barry saw a Chinese restaurant and proceeded to tell you every single item of Chinese food that he liked and hated. The whole way there, you could tell that Barry was getting a little irritated with how long it was taking to walk there, since he couldn't se his powers in public without his suit on to protect his identity.

Barry was like an excited kid when you finally arrived and he didn't hesitate to grab your hand again to drag you through the crowds of people after paying for tickets. You would’ve blushed from the move had it not felt like your arm was going to be ripped off from how much he was pulling on it. “Barry, can you slow down? There’s plenty of time to do everything.” Hearing your voice behind him, he stopped and you had to catch your breath before he led you over to the first ride he wanted to go on. You didn't mind the rides but you always had a fear something was going to go wrong.

Thankfully, there wasn't much of a line so you two got to the front pretty quick. Barry, of course, wanted to sit in the front and you begrudgingly had to follow him, not wanting to sit next to a complete stranger. The overhead barriers came down and you clutched onto yours for dear life, using your powers to make sure that it wasn't going to come loose. Out of the corner of his eye, Barry could see your face scrunched up in fear and he nervously bounced his leg a couple times before taking your hand into his again, leaning over as much as he could, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” You nodded, feeling surprisingly more relaxed after he held your hand.

The ride started and you screamed out of fear while Barry was screaming from joy, although it wasn't nearly as fast as he would’ve liked it to have been. After the ride was over, you had to pretend that you enjoyed it as much as Barry did otherwise he might think you’re being boring and dull.

For four hours, Barry dragged you around the whole theme park, trying out everything at least three times before moving onto the next one. When he was finally ready to go home (you had been ready to leave hours ago), he bought the two of you some cotton candy and a couple drinks. Barry had demolished his in seconds so you shared yours with him, “Are you sure?” “Of course, take some.”

Without realising, the two of you walked closer and closer together so that you were practically joined at the hip when you reached home. Barry was strangely quiet on the way back but you didn't mind, the peaceful silence was perfect for the journey back. What you didn't now what that Barry was looking at you, watching you pick small pieces of the edible pink fluff and thinking about how happy you made him feel. He’d never had so much fun hanging out with someone before and he wasn't an idiot like everyone thought, he knew you were faking how much you ‘liked’ the theme park but he felt touched that you put his happiness before your own.

Barry stopped you before you walked inside the house, “I had a great time today, honestly. It was one of the best days of my life. Maybe we can do it again sometime? If you're not busy or anything of course. If you have plans I wouldn’t expect you t-” You cut Barry off by hugging him, your arms around his waist and your face hiding in his chest, covering your red face. “I’d like that.” Barry hesitantly wrapped his own arms around you, not believing that this was actually happening to him.

Diana and Bruce high fived as they watched through the security camera’s live feed outside the front door, “We do great work.” Diana rolled her eyes at Bruce but smiled at the scene of you two embracing each other.

Tags:

@fear-not-just-write

#dc #dc x reader #dc x chubby reader #dc x plus size reader #barry allen #barry allen x reader #barry allen x chubby reader #barry allen x plus size reader #justice league #justice league x reader #justice league x chubby reader #justice league x plus size reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader

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lixiepeach · 4 years

Text

The Heart of the Sea, Part 8

Pairing: Arthur Curry x OC

Summary: Marina Allen has dedicated her life to conserving wildlife but when she stumbles upon the truth about the company she’s working for she decides to take a stand. A stand that leads her to nearly being killed and meeting her soulmate by chance. It seems like fate is intent upon repeating history but Arthur Curry has other ideas.

Warnings: Oral, lots of angst.

A/N: I’m back bitches! Have some almost smut and some pain!

Masterlist | Part 9

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

Settling into living with Arthur was easy. They got everything unpacked and had taken a trip to Boston to go shopping and pick up some necessary items for the house, and some decorations to make it seem more like home. Marina and Arthur had also spent plenty of time breaking in their new bed.

Marina had acquainted herself with the tub, loving the big claw-footed bath. She used it often, the view of the beach a plus. Arthur had gone out to get a few things, and she had decided to relax in the bath. They’d been decorating all day and Marina was tired. She wasn’t superhuman like Arthur, who just seemed to be able to go, go, go. So much had happened to her in a short amount of time. Her entire life had turned upside down, changed and molted into something she never dreamed of. She’d nearly died, found her soulmate who happened to be a king of an underwater kingdom and now they were living together. It was a lot to take in now that she’d stop to think about it.

She hears the front door, knowing it’s Arthur. She can hear the heavy clunk of his boots as he makes his way through the house, coming straight to the bathroom. He pushes the door open, leaning against the door frame, staring at her. She feels her cheeks heat up from his gaze, despite the water covering everything important.

“I see you got started without me.” He says, grinning.

Marina shrugs. “You left me all alone.”

Arthur comes closer, at least having the decency to kick off his boots before he steps in the tub. Water rises, splashing over the sides as he kneels down, leaning forward to kiss her. She laughs, kissing him back.

“I’ll just have to apologize for that.” He mumbles against her lips, moving his kisses down her jaw and neck.

He sucks a mark on her collarbone, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. Her hands are in his hair, tangling in the soft strands. His beard tickles her skin as he moves lower, skirting around her breasts before his face disappears into the water. More water spills out of the tub as he submerges his upper body, hands gripping her thighs. She watches him kiss his way down her stomach, shifting her slightly before lifting her thighs, draping them over his shoulders.

Marina’s head falls back, a moan leaving her lips as Arthur mouths at her clit. Bubbles rise to the surface as he eats her out under the water in the tub, tongue doing a number on her clit until her legs are shaking. Her back arches, hands gripping the sides of the tub for dear life as he pushes her closer and closer to the edge. Her hand tangles in his hair under the water, suddenly grateful for his ability to breathe underwater as he brings her to her peak, sucking on her clit to send her over the edge.

She’s breathing heavily, legs still shaking as he slowly rises out of the water, smirking at her. She bites her lip, reaching towards him as he wraps his arms around her, pressing his lips to hers as he lifts her up, standing in the tub. He climbs out, leaving a trail of water to the bedroom.

*****

Marina braids her hair back, looking out the window of their bedroom. The sun was setting, painting the beach and the ocean in orange hues. It’s quiet out, the sound of the waves on the beach coming through the open window. A movement in the distance catches Marina’s eye, her focus drawn to the figure making their way out of the water. Marina drops her hands, watching the figure for a moment before turning and calling for Arthur. He appears at her side a moment later, looking out the window.

His hand squeezes her shoulder for a moment. “I’ll be right back.”

Marina watches him leave their room, the backdoor opening and closing before Arthur jogs down the path leading to the beach to meet the person making their way up the path. Marina watches them for a moment before heading to the kitchen to get started on dinner.

She’s surprised when the backdoor opens, Arthur coming back in with the figure that had come out of the water. Usually Arthur didn’t involve her in Atlantean business, even though she hated that fact. She didn’t know why she couldn’t know, but obviously Arthur had his reasons. So when he walked through the door with a fellow Atlantean, Marina was more than shocked.

Arthur walks over to her, smiling brightly. “Vulko, this is Marina. Marina, this is Nuidis Vulko. He trained me.”

Marina gets over her shock quickly, smiling at him. “Nice to meet you.”

He nods to her. “Nice to meet you too.”

Arthur wraps an arm around Marina. “Vulko says he has good news.”

Vulko nods, looking over the two for a moment. “We think we found it.”

Marina feels Arthur tense up beside her at his words. She doesn’t have a clue what they’re talking about, but she has a feeling she’s about to find out.

Arthur leans against the kitchen island. “Where?”

“In the South Atlantic. They couldn’t get close enough to be positive. But they think that’s where it is.”

Arthur grins, hitting his fist against the island as he straightens up. “Finally. Some good news.”

Marina stares up at him, no doubt looking confused. Arthur smiles down at her, no doubt about to explain everything to her.

“There’s an old Atlantean legend about a way to change humans physiologically into being like Atlanteans.” Arthur tells her.

“The legends were old even before Atlantis fell. No one remembers them, but after some digging we uncovered what we could about this way. We’ve been searching everywhere for this mysterious device and we think we may have found it.” Vulko says.

Marina looks between them for a moment. “Do you know if it will work?”

Arthur rubs a hand over his face. “We still don’t know if it’s even real. But it’s worth it to me. It’s a chance at us being able to be together. Completely together.”

Marina nods slowly, taking it in. There was a chance she could be with him. She could be like him. She wouldn’t have to be alone when he had to return to Atlantis. She would be alone while he searched for it, but it was worth it to her to be alone for that time. She already knew what she was getting herself into with being his soulmate. She had already prepared herself for that. But it seemed like it was so far off, him having to leave. She hadn’t really processed she would be alone for a foreseeable time.

“When are you leaving?” She asks finally, looking up at Arthur.

Arthur cups her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her skin. “Tomorrow morning.”

The answer is like a blow to the stomach for Marina. She had thought days maybe, not tomorrow. But she knows it’s for a good reason. He wanted to be with her, completely with her. And he was willing to chase folktales to do so.

She nods, blinking back the sadness welling up inside her.

“I have some things I have to take care of in Atlantis before we leave. I don’t know how long it’s going to take. Weeks, maybe.”

Marina’s heart shatters all over again. She knew he’d have to be gone for a while when he returned to Atlantis, but she was losing him so fast, and he’d be gone for weeks. She takes a deep breath, nodding again. “Whatever you need to do. You know I’ll be right here.”

Arthur smiles, leaning down to kiss her forehead before pulling her against his chest, holding her close. She listens to the vibrations of his voice in his chest as he speaks with Vulko, blocking out the words. She doesn’t want to know any details. Any more than she already did. She had enough to mull over; she didn’t need anything else to worry about.

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

Marina pulls a dress over her naked body as Arthur gets dressed. She’d never seen him fully in his Atlantean garb but it’s nothing like what she pictured. The sun was just starting to come up, painting the sky over the ocean in pinks and oranges. Marina watches Arthur, admiring him as much as she can while he’s still here.

“You’ll have my parents if you need anything.” Arthur tells her, slipping on his boots.

She nods. “I know.”

He leans an elbow on his knees, looking up at her where she’s standing in front of him. “If I had known this would come so soon, I would have told you sooner.”

Marina nods. “I know.” She steps forward, standing between his legs, putting her hands on his shoulders. “I knew what I was signing up for. It...It was a shock, but as long as you come back, I won’t be too upset.”

He smiles, pulling her in for a kiss. “I promise I’ll come back. I’m not going to leave you standing on the beach every morning for thirty years.”

Marina grins. “You better not. I’ll hunt you down and drag you back.”

Arthur kisses her hard, wrapping his arms around her waist. Both of them were going to feel the pain of the distance between them, and both of them knew it was going to be hard. But, if things went well, it would be the only time they’d have to go through it. Arthur was fully prepared to go to the ends of the Earth to find some way for them to be together.

He leans his forehead against hers as he pulls away, breathing her in. “I love you.”

Marina tangles her hands in his hair, holding onto him as long as she can. “I love you too.”

Arthur kisses her again before standing, grabbing his trident. Vulko was standing on the beach, waiting for him. Marina takes his hand, walking out to the sand with him. It’s silent between them as they make their way towards the water. Not an uncomfortable silence, but an understanding one.

Arthur squeezes Marina’s hand, the waves hitting her knees. She doesn’t want to let go, but she knows she has to. Arthur looks down at her, his golden eyes shining with emotion. He leans down, kissing her one more time. He pours all the emotion into the kiss, the bond between them buzzing to life. Marina feels her heart clench at the thought of being apart, but she knows she has to let go.

“Don’t take too long.” She whispers against his lips, letting her hands fall away from him.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He says, kissing her softly one last time before walking into the waves, disappearing from sight.

#arthur curry #aquaman #dcu #dceu #arthur curry x oc #arthur curry x original character #arthur curry x reader #i'm back

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