#i think barry swift is possible

[pipperoo]

potential hatchetfield characters that could appear in la dee dah dah day (i don’t have any expectations that they’ll do any of these, just thought some of them were very silly)

Jaime: Shelia or Sherman Young

Corey: Solomon Lauter or Frank Pricely

Lauren: Linda Monroe, Brooke, or Madame Iris

Jeff: Barry Swift, Skud, Gabe, or Chumby

Will: Max Jägerman or Rudolph

[hardlyinteresting]

love's never lost when perspective is earned

Jake Seresin x Reader

“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it.” Peter Pan, J.M Barrie

Peter by Taylor Swift S P E Y S I D E by Bon Iver Big Black Car by Gregory Alan Isakov Smother by Daughter

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, Parentification of eldest siblings, bad first date experience, gets a little spicy towards the end (no smut), (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please)

This one shot was written for @arcane-vagabond Fairy Tale writing challenge with the inspiration of Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie, and the use of the word Scintilla.

Word Count: 6.7K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

She remembers that summer wrapped in a golden glow. Back when hot, humid days were spent bathed in the sun’s vivid orange. Their fingers were sticky with jammy pie fillings, stolen from his mama’s kitchen. Cold water from the garden hose always tasted better after a day of chasing themselves around the properties. 

What do you want to be when you grow up?” Jake had asked her as they lay in the grass behind his house. 

“I haven't decided yet,” she told him matter of factly, “But, I’m gonna have a nice house, and I’m going to go far away from here”. 

“I'm gonna be a pilot,” Jake said, “And I’ll fly wherever I want”.

She knew he was entirely serious, even as a little boy he’d never failed to accomplish what he put his mind to. The gentle waiver is his voice as his statement teetered around the edges of his true feelings and fears. “I wish I could fly away,” She told him, watching the clouds shift across the bright blue sky above them. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you with me,” Jake promised. And back then, a promise had felt like enough. 

They were seven; her shins were always bruised from climbing trees and tackling the Seresin boy during their daily football scrambles; his cheeks were always sunburnt, and he lied every time his mother asked if he had put sunscreen on. In many ways, she thinks those two months running after Jake Seresin had been both the peak and the plateau of her childhood wonder. 

September meant returning to school; finishing supper and homework before being allowed out to play, and with the autumnal turn crept in early sunsets and earlier curfews. In November, her stepdad moved in, and her mother told her to expect a little brother in the spring. The days of scraped knees and make-believe slipped away before the winter frost set in. 

When he thinks about her now, he pictures her laughing like she did when they were ten years old. He misses the days when she had the freedom to forget herself. 

At ten years old Jake Seresin couldn’t understand why his friend wasn’t as fun as she used to be. He watched from his kitchen window as she sat on the front porch with her little brother, settling next to her and feeding him from tiny jars of baby food. At a distance, it'd be easy to mistake her for any other girl playing make-believe with one of her dolls. But Jackson wasn't a doll, he was fussy and gassy, and he needed to be fed and put down for his naps before she had a moment of spare time to spend with her pal Jake. 

Her little brother had been followed by a new baby girl two years later. Tire marks on the dirt driveway highlighted where her stepfather’s truck should have been most days. Jackson had finally gone down for a nap but Olivia had been teething and her wailing could be heard from a mile away. 

“What do you want to do today?” Jake asked her as he made his way up her porch steps to sit next to her on the stoop. “I want to fly away,” she told him. 

Without a second thought, he grabbed her hand as he took off running, down the stairs, across the lawn and into the field behind the house. The long grass tickled at their ribs as they ran as fast as possible, their arms outstretched on either side of them. 

Circling, and jumping, hooting and hollering they made their way across the flat land with boisterous laughter bubbling from their lips. By the time they stumbled to a stop at the fence line their breath came to them in quiet gasps, their cheeks warmed by the exertion of their activity. 

The sound of his pulse fell in time with her carefree giggles as she twirled around mimicking some kind of bird. Had it not been for the physical boundary of the wire fence he thinks they could have kept running forever, the promise of freedom they didn’t yet understand beneath their wings. In that moment he knew he’d chase that feeling for the rest of his life. 

At sixteen she felt more like a substitute parent than she did a teenage girl. Her mind and her soul had aged beyond her years and stayed wrapped in a youthful vessel. School had become an escape from the responsibility she felt at home. While Olivia and Jackson clambered onto the school bus excited for first and second grade, she climbed into the passenger seat of Jake Seresin’s restored F-150. Each morning he'd pass her a wrapped sandwich made in his kitchen with his mother's fresh-baked bread. A replacement for the meal he knew she sacrificed to divide the last of the breakfast cereal between her siblings. He filled her with servings of farm butter and homemade jam, or ham and cheese. Their silent dialogue in brushing their knuckles during the exchange, as he always chose to ignore how she saved half for her lunch later in the day. 

Pulling into the parking lot at school she had been keenly aware of the way the other girls looked at her as she walked hand in hand with Jake; the glares shot her way when he kissed her cheek as they parted ways to head to their classes.

Their jealousy rolled off them in waves, and she heard how they spoke about her in the locker room after gym class. Whispers about his gorgeous green eyes and boyish charm. What could the hottest guy in school possibly want from the strange girl in her secondhand clothes and studious persona? Surely he'd have more fun with a girl who wanted to party. 

It was true. In the span of one summer, he'd grown 6 inches, towering over her now. His shoulders broadened. The lanky awkward limbed boy she'd known in her childhood grew stronger and more defined as he learned better how to pull his weight on his family’s farm. His masculine stature and maturity softened only by his flushed cheeks, and childlike grin. 

And yes, he snuck beers from his father’s garage fridge and did handstands for ovations at parties hosted by the school football team. An absolute joy to be around. To know Jake Seresin was to love Jake Seresin, but didn't know him the way she did.

 They didn't know he was terrified of thunderstorms until he was 12. They weren't there when he split his pants open trying to climb over a fence when they were 9. They had never had the privilege of listening to him read aloud from all his books about aircraft; his 11-year-old fingers tracing the letters as he sounded out the big words, the fear of being held back in 5th grade hanging over his head. 

They had never held him as he tore into himself. The golden boy, raised in the shadow of an older brother who hadn’t lived long enough for him to remember; so deeply loved, but not enough to fill the ache in his parent’s hearts. 

No one in those school halls would ever be able to tell the difference between his happiest days, and the smirk he plastered on always aiming to be better than what he believed himself to be. 

He was so stubborn and far more clever than he ever let himself sound; she scolded him almost daily as he tried to shrug off his homework. “You'll need math and science if you ever want to fly a jet,” she would remind him, accepting the glass of sweet tea he offered her. Their textbooks and notes would lay spread across his kitchen table while Jackson and Olivia occupied themselves with blank paper and wax crayons, offering Jake scribbled drawings of airplanes, “wow! That's amazing, thank you,” he'd say every time. 

She hadn't asked Jake to worm his way into her soul, and yet even now she knows some part of her soul belongs deeply to him. Their games of tag had slowly become time spent talking about their parents and watching the clouds; their hands intertwined between them as they listened to each other's dreams and desires for the future. 

And on the nights when his life just didn’t seem to fit quite right, he’d tap on her window, willing her to join him in the bed of his truck a couple of miles from their homes; and she’d remind him who he was. The bright boy with a heart of gold, and a laugh that reminded her of everything good in the world. She’d rest her head on his chest, his fingertips tracing aimless shapes across her back, as she convinced him he was more than a collection of hand-me-down dreams. 

His eighteenth birthday crept up to him before passing in a blur of candlelight and buttercream icing. His mother cried in the kitchen when she excused herself to ‘take care of the dishes’. His father clapped him on the shoulder. Their two sets of hazel-green eyes met as the older man offered a nod.  The action itself did not speak to a relationship of closeness or specific affection, but still, it managed to convey a message of approval, apology, and love too difficult to speak. 

She had knocked on the door shortly after dinner had been cleared from the table, the remaining half of his birthday cake being ushered into the refrigerator under a cling wrap film. Shivering in the night air, her hands clutched a package of brown paper with a shiny blue ribbon, his name scribbled in her careful writing. Quickly, he’d pulled her into the house greeting her with a kiss as deeply passionate as she deserved. “Happy birthday,” she’d whispered, pressing the gift she’d brought into his hands. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he’d told her. “I wanted to,” she insisted. With steady hands, he unwrapped the box. His question was silent, but the shocked expression on his face must’ve conveyed enough for her to be able to answer him anyway. “It’s the one from the antique store,” she grinned, “Mister Abbot let me pay for it in instalments”. He tipped the brass nautical compass into the palm of his hand, staid in his evaluation of both the physical and emotional weight of the gift. “This is too much,” he spoke after a moment. 

Her eyes went wide, her smile dropping. “I love it,” he was immediate in his attempt at reassurance, “but, you’re saving for school. I don’t want you spending your money on me, darlin’”. He tried to pass the compass back to her, a woebegone ponderosity settling in his stomach at the very idea of rejecting any part of her. Insistent, yet patient, she curled her finger over his. The digits were so much smaller than his own, cracked and raw from washing dishes and cleaning tables at the local diner. The painful reminder of how hard she’d been working to climb her way out of her own life. “I want you to keep it. Selfishly,” she said, “I want you to always be able to find your way back to me”. How could he have argued with that? 

Politely, she’d popped into the kitchen to see his mama, accepting a Tupperware of cake slices to take home for the kids to enjoy. His father met them at the door as Jake shrugged on his denim jacket. “Where are you kids off to?” he asked out of curiosity more than any concern. “Just going for a drive,” Jake told him, slipping his keys into his pocket. “Don’t let him get you into any trouble, ya hear?” he warned her with a teasing grin, the humour evident in his voice. “Yes sir,” she had agreed easily, knowing Mr Seresin’s penchant for faux sternness in the moments between his genuine stoicism. Seemly satisfied to see her smile grow, he had turned to Jake with an immediate pivot back to his natural sternness, “You make sure you get her home at a reasonable time. It’s a school night”. Jake’s compliance echoed her own, with no room for jest, “Yes sir”. 

Parked in their usual spot, at the edge of a cleared field he wrapped layers of blankets around her shoulders, before settling down next to her. Their biggest dreams breathed between them and the night stars. “I love you,” he said. The statement was resolute, and immovable in its honesty. “I love you too, Jake,” she told him. Her words were spoken like a promise she desperately wanted to keep. 

“When we graduate, I'll drive us across the country,” he tells her, “I'll buy us a house. You can go to school and I'll fly”. 

“It’s a nice dream, baby,” she says. 

Their drive home is silent. 

She spent her nineteenth birthday sleeping in his childhood bedroom. He hadn't been home in months but the sheet still smelt like him. She scraped her knees climbing up the trellis to his window, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She’d laughed to herself examining the superficial wounds, enjoying the familiar bite of nostalgia. Memories of her childhood long since passed left tears at the corners of her eyes. Near manic laughter faded into a melancholy exhaustion. 

Her eyes focused on the small book collection Jake had managed over the years. They had all been perfectly aligned in their homes on his bookshelf; set in alphabetical order by author. His need for structure despite his free spirit had been amusing until it became mildly concerning. Routine, crafted to satisfy the need to stay completely distracted from an overwhelm of feelings he had always been sure he didn’t have the capacity to express. The hope in her heart had always been that he might learn to hone his particular brand of presentiment. He’d always been so rough-and-tumble, so hard to worry after; determined to never let the mask slip as he raced through life with a smile. 

1400 miles away she ached to be beside him; so lonely in her knowledge of him. She worked to comfort herself by tracing the titles on the spines of the books he’d left behind. Over and over. Over and over. With blurring vision and an unfocused mind, she slipped into a well-deserved sleep. The sun streamed so gently through the window of Jake’s room. A touch of light tugging her from her slummer had been a welcome change from the jarring wake-up call she had at home. Two siblings who had yet to figure out how to make themselves breakfast without bickering or clattering plates. The smell of fresh coffee and pancake batter wafted up from downstairs. 

The bedroom door squeaked as she opened it, and underfoot the floorboards in the old farmhouse creaked, each step down the staircase punctuated with the sonance of more than a hundred years of life. In the Seresin house, the noises reminded her of the generations who had come and gone, it was easy to imagine the lives that had been lived within the walls. Across the yard, the similar shifts and groans of her childhood home echoed like ghostly calls; the whispers warning of a life liable to be wasted if she stuck around. 

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” Mrs Seresin smiled, setting an extra spot at the kitchen table. His mother had always been the kindest person she’d known. Despite the undisputable reality that her son’s girlfriend had all but broken into her home, she welcomed her with open arms, asking if she wanted blueberries in her pancakes. 

The longer they went without mentioning the elephant in the room the easier it became for her to slouch a bit in her seat, appreciating each bite of the breakfast that had been offered to her. Nineteen years of being in rooms out of necessity rather than desire had made it difficult to trust other’s interest in her well-being.

 Feeling her shoulders drop in relief left her feeling something like a stray cat brought in to shelter from the storm; glad to accept Mrs Seresin’s kindness, but uneasy all the same. She had grown used to being weary of tenderness and generosity; always waiting to hear the conditions of the beneficence. 

Sipping her coffee, Mrs Seresin smiled over the lip of the mug. “If you want to stay a little longer, you could help me go through some of Jake’s old clothes. Some of them would probably fit Jackson now”. Her words reached like an olive branch across the table, and for a moment she understood that perhaps the older woman wasn’t just benevolent for the sake of it, not on this day at least. With her only living child out of the house she had been lonely in her need to mother someone, and glad just for the company as unorthodox as the circumstances may have been. She’d been glad to learn that some glint of selfishness lingered in everyone, and in a strange turn, it only made her trust the woman more. 

She hadn't expected a pile of folded sweatshirts to make her cry, and yet in a blink of an eye, she found herself sobbing. A flicker of hurt rushed through her with the realization that some things will always matter more to her than they do to anyone else. Just another piece of clothing to Jake, another part of her task for the day to his mother. But she was holding the world in her hands. 

She remembers that sweatshirt well, red and worn out by time, always just a bit too tight in the shoulders, the seams stretching at the sleeves. He was wearing it the night he picked her up from her first date.

Bobby Dunbar had been two years older than her, and had no idea of the meaning of the word ‘no'. She left him alone in the movie theatre after he'd tried to creep a hand up her skirt for the second time. With a quick call from the closest payphone, Jake was on his way to pick her up without questions. 

Together, they drove out of town and past their homes the sun dipping down below the seemingly endless horizon. Overhead the stars had begun to make themselves appreciable against the backdrop of the darkening sky. Parked, they lay in the bed of the truck looking up at the sky ahead. He took care to trace the constellations for her, naming them as he went. In the meantime, her fingertips copied the shapes with invisible lines across his chest. The well-loved red sweatshirt was soft beneath her cheek. 

He kissed her for the first time that night. Not her first kiss, but the first one that mattered. Jake always had this ability to make her world stop spinning, even if just for a moment. Sitting on the edge of his bed sobbing into the sweater she wanted nothing more than to be near him, to hear him tell her everything was going to work out for them in the end.

“I got my scholarship,” she told Mrs. Seresin, “I'll start in the fall, and I'll be able to live on campus”. 

“That's amazing news sweetheart,” her affirmation, so much like her son’s. 

“It's a lot farther for Jake to drive. I won't be here to check on Jackson and Olivia. My mo--”

“They'll be alright. It's high time you live your dream, honey”. 

At nineteen years old, she struggled to understand that sometimes the beginning feels like the end. A pit growing in her stomach, she clutched the bags of hand-me-down clothes as she headed home. The sky above was dotted with the same stars Jake had taught her about years ago, she stood still for a moment trying to remember the feel of his lips, or the comfort of his hand in hers, but only felt the cool evening breeze.

Twenty-one felt like wearing a costume. Joining the Navy. Getting good grades. Helping on the farm whenever he had an ounce of free time. Being a good son, being a good boyfriend. He was playing dress-up in a life that wasn’t built for him, and yet he found himself so desperate to play the part. 

The first few months away had been excruciating. Most nights he chugged Pepto-Bismol before going to bed, hoping that the tearing feeling in his chest was just heartburn, and not just his soul stretching across four states. It had been the longest they’d ever been separated; smashing the previous record of the one week he spent with his aunt and uncle when he was ten. 

He won’t blame her for the divide that grew between them, but he knows that the ache in his chest cracked into a chasm sometime after she moved onto her college campus. 

The commute to see her was longer, his back was stiff, and his eyes were tired after driving hours, and crisscrossing state lines. The time they spent together was almost exclusively spent sleeping or skipping around their desperate need to return to what they once were, all while refusing to give up their dreams.

 Two years into her degree he was exhausted. On base, his bed was assembled for practicality, not for comfort. Hard, uneven mattress and nights spent cold beneath the covers without the warmth of her body tucked against him. His bunkmates all snored, and the hustle and bustle of those still working during his allotted sleeping hours kept his mind alert even as his body dosed. In her dorm room, her duvet was plush and cozy, her pillows smelt like her shampoo, and she snuggled as close to him as physically possible on the nights he managed to make it to her. But her roommate was nosy and made it almost impossible for him to love on his girlfriend. Unable to touch her as freely as he yearned to-- and even worse, unable to speak as freely as he needed to, his feelings threatened to choke him. Lost without the level of communication that had become their life preserver for years, he felt as though he was drowning. 

At twenty one he asked his father for his grandmother’s engagement ring. A family heirloom he’d always known he’d propose with one day. He would make good on the promises he made. They would get married and he’d buy them a house-- he had already managed to save quite a bit. It was not a lack of love that broke them, but perhaps an excess of it. A shared desperation to do more, and be better; both of them hell-bent on clawing their way out of the ruts they’d found themselves stuck in. And with so much to prove it had been impossible to climb without letting go of each other. 

He was down on one knee when his heart was ripped from his chest. For a moment he felt it was impossible to breathe. His mind was silent, too stunned to think and too confused to speak. She was still shaking her head when he finally found the strength to look up at her again. “No,” she said. “I thought--”

“I’m sorry-- I can’t. I won’t. It’s not fair,” she told him. Certainly not fair, he thought desperate to understand. But when had life ever been fair? “I can’t,” she repeated. He watched, hopeless, as she shrunk in on herself. The bright, brilliant girl he’d spent more than half his life loving shied away from him, hiding behind a shame he couldn’t find a source for.

As he slowly made his way back to his feet, with the ring box shoved back into his coat pocket, she spoke again. “I think it would be better if we spent some time apart”. That he had not been expecting, and the words nearly had him keeling over; a brutal blow that knocked the air from his lungs. He found himself helpless, unable to do anything but nod. All his fight sat on the tip of his tongue, pinched between his teeth, betrayed by his pain, and misunderstanding. I’m sorry, he wanted to say. For anything. For everything. But the words never came out. “I’m sorry,” she wept as she ushered him out of her dorm room. 

With one hand, and no force he held the door frame for a moment, one last longing look at the girl he knew he’d love forever. “One day we’ll be enough for each other again”. He hoped that was true. 

She carries a spark of regret in her chest, it grows when she thinks of him, and it shrinks when she remembers she freed him too. She thinks now that her denial of Jake Seresin may have been hasty. Fifteen years older, and with more perspective than she had at twenty-one, she thinks their lives could have been different if she had been brave enough to talk things out. 

Her fear of stagnation had been her only motivation for so much of her life. His proposal had been on the surface a desperate attempt to cling to a bond they had begun to outgrow. And while his intentions at their core had been pure, getting married would not have saved their relationship. She had only begun to live for herself, and he still didn’t understand that his life was his own. Their marriage would have only served as a new way to masquerade and play pretend; years of running away from the fears that kept them both up at night. He would have grown to resent her inability to live without planning, and she would have hated his unintended absenteeism. Being married would not have kept his side of the bed warm, nor would it have given him any new ability to quell her anxieties. 

She still thinks of him often. From her apartment on a clear day her view of the sky seems to span for miles and miles. She pictures him up there, carving through the clouds with the dedication and precision she’s always known he’d be capable of. She imagines him happy, living his dream. She hopes he’s proud of himself, and she prays that he knows that she’s proud of him too. 

Sometimes, she lets herself wonder if he ever settled down; offered his grandmother’s ring and his heart on his sleeve to some other lucky girl. She’s tried to move on herself a few times, but never made it close to feeling like she was in love. The last guy had been a year ago now, he was nice enough, handsome, had a good job, and a good sense of humour. On paper he was flawless. He’d take her out for dinner, and walk her to her door. Sometimes he spent the night. He bought her flowers, and held her hand. But on one too many occasions she felt inexplicably lonely sitting next to him. He complained that she wasn’t any fun. She struggled to explain the sense of responsibility she’d never been able to shake. She asked him about his dreams. He never seemed to have any. 

And so the hint of any spark that had been there fizzled away into nothing. 

She tells herself she’s happier on her own and decides to keep moving forward, ignoring the cracking of her heart. She uncorks a bottle of wine, dancing alone in her kitchen, looking out at the vast evening sky and the setting sun. As much as she enjoys the view from her rental, she’s been in California long enough that it might be worth buying into the housing market. Nothing fancy, but something she can truly call her own. She’s been making good money for a while now, and her siblings have made it through college themselves. Jackson moved to New York with his sights set on being an architect. Olivia moved to Austin and became a nurse. Her mother hasn’t bothered to call in ages. Her shoulders relax without the added pressure of caring for others. For the first time in a very long time, her mind is quiet--it’s finally time to write the last chapters in her own story and stop running. 

He keeps an old photograph of her in the inside of his flight suit, right over his heart. He’s living his dream, and he won’t allow himself to forget that she’s the reason why. Driving home from base at night he passes houses much larger than the bungalow he’s been renting. He wonders where she went after she graduated, and what kind of job she has now. 

He chooses to picture her happy even at the expense of his feelings; a devoted husband coming to wrap his arms around her while she stirs a pot on the stove. A scintilla of guilt makes itself known as he grows somewhat jealous of this life he's envisioned for her. The truth is that he knows she was right for turning him down. They were too young, too naive, and too frightened. Breaking up with him may have been the first time he had seen her truly put herself first, and in hindsight, he’s glad she did. He knows he’d never have been able to live with himself if he had been what stood in the way of her making her dreams come true. It took him a while to understand the gift she had given him when she sent him away. The freedom to be the man he wanted to be, and not the man anyone else needed him to be. 

He’d fucked it up more than once along the way. At work, he had become too brash, too cocky, too full of himself. He put his walls up and wore the self-assured mask he thought people wanted to see. Unwavering confidence, and determination. His return to Top Gun had been a wake-up call. He’d been forced to adapt, to let his guard down and learn how to let people in again. And for the first time since he was a teenager he appreciated the difference between being valued and being important. The realization had come with a sense of belonging and camaraderie that he hadn’t expected but couldn't afford to forget.

In his personal life, he had failed time and time again to form long-term bonds. One-night stands didn’t hurt, but the idea of waking up next to someone left him nauseous. But the truth is he yearns for that connection. He wants to be seen. He wants to be understood. He stopped going home to visit his parents two years ago, the weight of self-placed expectation chewed through him and left him hollow; guilt filled its place. 

Last week he stood back straight, with his heart full of pride as he accepted his promotion. The new rank came with a new role, and a new more permanent position. He'd be stationed in San Diego for at least five more years. He called his mother. He booked a flight home for his next break. He started browsing real estate pages. It’s time to stop running. 

She’s only made it to a couple of open houses so far but she hasn’t been able to find anything she likes yet. Most of the houses she’s seen are out of her price range. Others have been too modern, some too outdated. 

She remembers the Seresin’s kitchen, the buttery yellow walls and linoleum tiles. Their house wasn’t flashy, nor had it been renovated anytime in 1980, but it was cozy. She can remember the smell of Mrs. Seresin’s baking. In her mind's eye, she recalls the feel of the cabinet doors that Mr. Seresin had built himself when they moved in, and his wife’s initials carved into the bottom corner of the cupboard over the sink. In every way possible they had made that ordinary farmhouse a home, and she wants the same for herself now. Like everything in her life, she decided her house has to be perfect. She’ll know it when she sees it. 

The house is a two-story craftsman, built circa 1935. The siding is a garish kind of coral colour, faded by the sun, and the trims stand out in a soft vanilla colour, chipped at the edges. She’s driving home from work when she sees the sign for the open house standing proudly on the front lawn. Without a thought she pulls over, throwing the car into park. Inside, it smells like freshly baked cookies-- a real estate trick she’s learned over the last few weeks. It’s easy to imagine a house is your own when it smells so inviting. She's come to expect this, and won't let it blind her. 

Her heels click across the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the empty house. She moves past the stairs into the surprisingly spacious living room. A large window looks out onto the quiet cul-de-sac, and the room sits bathed in the soft glow of the street lights outside. She imagines the room furnished, with soft drapery, a plush sofa, tv hung above the fireplace, and she can imagine herself unwinding here. The dining room is a fair size, and the kitchen has a sliding door that opens up to the backyard. The cabinets are brand new, and the owners have spent time renovating while staying true to the charm of the house. On the countertop, she picks up the real estate agent’s pamphlets about the home, amenities and nearby schools are listed, and she wonders if she might have the chance to raise a family here. 

Overhead the sound of steady footsteps, and a pair of heels make their way down the hall and then the stairs. “If you decide to put in an offer, do not hesitate to call, in this market the early bird gets the worm,” a woman speaks. “I appreciate it, thank you,” a man replies in a low southern drawl, “do you mind if I take a look at the backyard before I head out?” “Not at all! Take your time, I’ll be out front just getting my signs if you need anything else”. 

He’s barely stepped into the kitchen when he hears his name. “Jake?” a familiar voice wonders, her arms coming immediately to wrap around him. She hits his chest with a thud, but it does move him an inch. Her name is sighed into her hairline as he holds her close. “You made it-- all the way to California,” He smiles, pulling back to get a good look at her. She’s as gorgeous as he remembers, if not more so. Her features have sharpened over time, and he thinks her hair might be darker now, but she’s glowing. Her grin is wide and her shoulders relaxed as she reaches to trace his name and rank on his uniform. “You’re flying, Jake,” she all but whispers. He nods, his eyes softening as his hand comes to rest over hers, his heart racing beneath her palm. “Turns out I’m pretty good at it,” he jokes, and is rewarded with his favourite laugh. 

His free hand lowers to rest on her hip and she steps closer, familiarity allows them to skip out on formality. He’s missed this; a shared closeness loud enough for them to speak without saying anything. He knows her like he knows the back of his own hand, and even with years passed between them, he’s able to fill in the gaps. Her clothes are well made, and well fitted. Office wear. Her shoes leave her standing tall, reminding him of senior prom and the time they spent slow dancing. He knows what she’s overcome, and he’s never had any doubt about where she would end up. Clearly successful, and if the way her smile meets her eyes is any indicator, she’s happy too. 

In all honesty, she’s not sure who leans in first, but she knows she’s kissing Jake Seresin for the first time in fifteen years. He kisses with hesitation at first but allows himself to give in to a passion grown with time. He’s more skilled than he was the first time they kissed, and she tries her best not to flush with jealousy. His cropped hair is soft where her hand reaches up to hold at the back of his head willing him closer. 

One step at a time he backs her across the room until her back meets the wall. With fingers gripping the collar of his shirt she begs him to crowd her space. She swears he’s taller now. His shoulders are broader, his arms far more defined. He’s always been handsome but the boyish charm has been replaced by something far more deadly, and she’s convinced she’d die happy if it was him stealing her breath away. 

She melts beneath him. His hand moves across her hip, down to feel the round of her ass, before his grip tightens at the flesh of her thigh, warm in her cute little dress slacks. Neither of them bothers to suppress the moans or sighs that leave them when begins to kiss down his neck. His knee slots between her legs, thudding when it makes contact with the wall, startling them both. 

“Careful. You break it you buy it, Jake”.

“I think homeownership will be good for me,” he grins catching his breath. 

“Not if I buy it first,” she quips, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she blinks up at him. He groans, his knees weak as her smile grows. “Let’s talk it out over dinner,” He manages his counteroffer. 

***

Their house smells like chocolate chip cookies, made from the recipe Jake’s mother passed down. The window in the master bedroom offers a gorgeous view of the San Diego sky. On weekends, she wakes up to the smell of coffee brewing, and Jake sliding back into bed, his hands greedy as he pulls her from her sleep with warm kisses and the promise of breakfast if they manage to make it down the stairs. 

The floorboard creaks when he comes home at night, the weight of his day shed at the door. He greets her as if he's been gone for months even when it’s only been a few hours. And he holds as if he’ll never see her again when he returns from a deployment. 

The gentle breeze that blows through the open windows of their little home carries away their lingering anxieties, and they allow themselves to soften in each other’s presence. 

They lay in the grass in their backyard, paint smeared across their clothes, brows sweaty from a hard day's work. The siding is now a fresh, pale green, the trims glow in a soft white. Above them, the stars shine. The same stars they watched as children, and loved as teens. He watches her, enamoured, as she points to the North Star tracing her way around the night sky, recalling the stories he told her about each constellation. He wonders how many lifetimes are painted in the sky above them, how many lovers have admired the stars as they have. 

She pulls him from his thoughts, rolling to settle with her knees at either side of his hips, her left hand resting on his heart. He looks at her as if he’s in awe of her, his wedding band cold on her back as his hand slides underneath her shirt. Leaning down to kiss him she’s certain this is the life she’s always been running towards. 

[chutefullofholes]

https://www.tumblr.com/chutefullofholes/785561113534300160/might-end-up-deleting-this-but-holyyyy-shit-howww

ok i’m not trying to be combative i’m just thinking like. i feel like when singers release songs that are supposedly targeted towards someone it doesn’t necessarily mean every single line is personalized to said person. because at the same time the song needs to be relatable? it’s obv she’s seeking out another song of the summer title and it’s a veryyy common thing for young girls to make jokes/ comments about blaming a guys mom when they’re assholes. so i feel like that line didn’t need to be specifically geared towards barry 🤷🏼‍♀️

yes but when people at large are going to ascribe the song to him, as seen all over the comments section of her socials- it is at BEST completely stupid to include a line like that when his mom is dead, and died the way she did after an immense struggle with addiction. impact comes over intent in cases like this.

like- i hear you. i’m a huge taylor swift fan and have defended her writing MANY a time in similar situations. i just think this goes beyond excusable more lowkey ‘possible’ digs. if you are writing a song that you know people will tie to your very recent ex then don’t include something like that which people can and will tie to you being cruel to him. no matter what your intent was/if it’s about someone else. seems simple enough.

i’m genuinely *shocked* every person that a song goes through before it gets released let that line pass go bc even from a PR standpoint alone this feels incredibly stupid.

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Who do you think are the most OP members of the FlashFam? I think it's difficult, the majority of them has almost the same powers.

Oh easy.

Wally, Bart and Barry.

I think we forget sometimes that the vast majority of the crazy feats of godlike powers we see from speedsters are coming from these three. Wally, Bart and Barry have insane connections to the speedforce and their skill level is unmatched. What these three can do is by no means normal or average. They are op as fuck.

You have to remember that even... let's say Max Mercury is nowhere even remotely near their skill level. And we're talking about Max Mercury. The guy who knows more about the speedforce than anyone else and trained for years to master it. But Max (although he was faster than Bart when Bart was a child) isn't on the same playing field as Wally, Bart and Barry. Max couldn't enter the speedforce without Bart's assistance, Max couldn't leave the speedforce without Barry and Wally's assistance, Max can't time travel to a destination of his own choice, Max can't speed steal or fully pause time, ect ect. Max is one of the most skilled, most knowledgeable, most trained and most respected speedsters of all time. Max is the cream of the crop. You won't find another speedster better than Max. He's a shining example of what's humanely possible for speedsters to achieve.

But Wally, Bart and Barry aren't humanely possible. Those three are insane.

I'm actually going to make a tier list to explain this

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INSANE:

(AKA actually gods. Can do literally every speedster ability. Faster than literally everything. Beyond op.)

Wally West (now), Bart Allen, Barry Allen

TOP LEVEL OF SPEEDSTER ABILITY:

(AKA the top of the top. Insane skills. Insane knowledge. Insane speed. Likely has a vast amount of speedster abilities other than running. Likely faster than most other speedsters. Op af)

Max Mercury, Jay Garrick, Savitar, Eobard Thawne, Thad Thawne, Irey West (future)

ABOVE AVERAGE:

(AKA one of the following: above average speed, above average connection or above average abilities. Likely has one or two speedster abilities other than running. Slightly op but still beatable)

Irey West (now), August Heart, Edward Clariss, Jess Quick, Alinta (future), Hunter Zoloman (when connected), Lia Nelson, Jai West (future)

AVERAGE:

(AKA average connection, average speed, average abilities. Potentially an additional speedforce ability but no crazy speedforce abilities. Not op.)

Wally West (past), Ace West, Avery Ho, Jesse Chambers, Daniel West, Christina Alexandrova, Jenni Ognats, Jai West (now), John Fox, Red Death, Don Allen, Dawn Allen, Meena Dhawan, Anatole, David Edwards (after), Judy Garrick, Bar Torr, Fastbak, Swoosh, Terri Magnus, Sela Allen, Jonathan Allen, Carrie Allen, Barry West, S'Kidd Flash, Thondor Allen, Jace Allen, Blaire Allen, Nora Allen, Agent Flashling, Danica Williams, Cherub

TRIES REALLY HARD:

(AKA normal connection but below average speed and abilities. Extremely beatable.)

Baroness Blitzkrieg, Johnny Chambers, Bebeck, Cassiopeia, Harold Christos, Inertia 2, Killspeed, Mayfly, Millie Heyday, Runaround Sue, Wind, Pellmell, Poprocket, Velocity, Gabriella Rossetti

OH NO:

(AKA needs outside assistance to access speedforce (suit, drugs, formula), faulty connection, connection is killing them, can only access powers for short periods of time, ect)

Jai West (past), Alinta (now), Owen Mercer, Eliza Harmon, Jerry McGee, Meloni Thawne (*see notes), Gregor Gregorovich, Boleslaw Uminski, Joanie Swift, Mas, Menos, David Edwards (previously), Keigo, Ezra Gill, Henry Cosgei, Jaculi, Jaculi 2, Jimmy Olsen, Xane Swift

So yeah, as you can see by this, although all speedsters with a functioning speedforce connection are technically capable of being op, speedsters rarely actually are op.

We're just really used to op speedsters because we're used to whatever the fuck Wally, Bart and Barry have going on. But they are very much not representative of speedsters as a whole.

Do you guys remember how fast Wally used to be? When he was younger and struggling with his speed and stuff? THAT'S THE GODDAMN AVERAGE. Wally AT HIS SLOWEST was still faster than every single goddamn speedster he came across, including Jay, Johnny, Jesse, the Blue Trinity, the Red Trinity, ect. HE JUST WASN'T FASTER THAN BARRY OR EOBARD SO HE THOUGHT HE WAS THE WORST. Because Wally is fucking insane. He's an insane human being. Anyway, Wally at his slowest is the typical representation of an average speedster. That's how they typically are.

[fivelakesinwriting]

Slummin' It {Barry - OBX}

Author's Notes: I checked online and there is no official last name for Barry..which I hate. I just wanted to do something fun for everyone's favourite drug dealer in the OBX

Warnings: Mentions of violence, References to drugs, Swearing, Sexual references - Sexual innuendos, Smutty

Requested? Nope. Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

He was an early riser, something that had been instilled in him from his days in the military. It didn't matter how late he had been up the night before, he was always up at the crack of dawn the next day. He looked beside him at the sleeping woman, smiled softly then pulled himself out of the bed for a shower.

His shower was cold, as he stood under the subpar pressure in the small shower stall he tried to remember the last time he paid the water bill, but he couldn't. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, turned off the spray and got out into the poor excuse for a bathroom. He wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way back into his bedroom, surprised to see her sitting up in bed.

"You're up early. Not awake 'til after the coffee is cold usually." Barry grinned as he pulled his towel off his waist, tossed it in the pile of clothes in the corner and searched through his drawers for something to wear.

"Got a good sleep last night." She replied with a stretch of her upper body before she got up to her knees on the mattress and slid over to him.

"Can't imagine why." Barry smirked, eyebrows raised, as he placed his hand on her face while his thumb caressed her cheek softly. The pad of his thumb ran over the small bruise on her face, a battle scar from a fight she got in from someone who refused to pay their tab with him.

He might love this girl. Any woman who would punch a Kook's girlfriend in the face over drug money was worthy of another night in his bed. Maybe three.

"That bitch sucker-punched you." Barry muttered his thumb still running over the small bruise on her pretty face. He didn't like seeing her banged up, not from his lifestyle. A red mark on her ass from his was something entirely different than a bruise on her face from some Kook's sidepiece.

"At least she punched me. Most Kook girls just scratch or pull hair." She smiled as she kissed the heel of his hand, and he felt it everywhere.

"Been in a couple scraps before?" Barry smiled, pulling his hand off her face and placing it on the back of her neck.

"Maybe. You know, you're not the worst influence I've ever had in my life, Barry." She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"That makes me feel better." Barry replied as his other hand pressed against the small of her back to push her against him, breathing out a laugh as she wiggled her hips against his.

"Barry." She smiled with a bite of her bottom lip, as she reached her left hand between them where he was still bare.

"Don't." He growled, grabbing at her wrist and holding it firmly away from him.

"You don't wanna - "

Barry knocked her onto her back, her wrist still in his hand as he pinned it above her head. He laid on top her, smiling as she spread her thighs for him. His heart began to race a little more, he wasn't sure if he would get used to that. At least not from her.

"I definitely want to. But I'm keeping your scrappy ass contained." Barry mumbled as he grabbed her other wrist and pinned it above her head as well.

"I thought you liked my marks." She grinned as she leaned up to nip at his bottom lip.

"I do, but I have a busy day today. I don't have time to explain to everyone coming through here there's a girl in my bed that's a scrapper." Barry growled as he pulled his lip from her teeth to bite at her neck in retaliation.

"Barry!" She giggled her wrists wriggling in his hands as he pulled his teeth down her neck, his grip on her wrists tightening as she squirmed beneath him.

"Keep your hands there. Don't make me tie you up." Barry ordered with a heavy exhale as he sat up on his knees between his legs, pushing his hair off his face. He pressed her wrists down onto the pillows, letting her know he meant business then pressed a kiss to her lips before he pulled the elastic off his wrist and pulled his hair back.

"Where are you going?" She questioned softly as he grabbed the backs of her knees and pulled her up, kissing her kneecaps.

"Nowhere you need to worry about." Barry mumbled into the soft skin of her thigh as his kisses made their way up, and up. A soft, dark curl fell from his elastic and brushed against her skin, making her whine.

"Please." She whispered, her toes pressed against the backs of legs as he placed a teasing kiss on either of her hips.

"Remember what I said about those hands, Scrappy?" Barry breathed out as he leaned up on his hands above her, licking his lips.

She gave him an exaggerated pout as she stretched her arms above their heads, her fingers wiggling in the air. She nodded in obedience before she nudged his forehead with hers.

"Good. Keep them there." Barry ordered as he held onto her face then pressed his lips to hers firmly.

She pressed her thighs to his hips as he slipped his tongue in her mouth and Barry was gone. He didn't hear or feel anything but her in that mattress on his floor. Barry had enough sense to pull the sheets around them as he slid inside of her. They were both so loud, even in the early morning, he didn't hear the motorcycle roll up or his front door open.

"Hey, Barry." The knock on his bedroom was swift and the door opened just a crack, enough to make Barry jump and lose his rhythm.

"Goddamnit, Rafe!" Barry yelled as he slammed the palm of his hand against the wall above the bed.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. I thought you were just watching porn in here. I didn't realize. I can come back - " Rafe grinned as he pushed his hands in his pockets as he looked shamelessly at the girl in the bed.

"Wait outside. I'll be out in a minute. And Cameron, look at her again and I'll gut you." Barry snarled as he pushed a hand through his hair as he slid out from under the sheets.

"Alright. Alright. Just didn't realize this is who was slumming it with you these days." Rafe grinned as he ran his thumb over his bottom lip and turned out of the doorway.

"Who says I'm the one who's slumming it, Cameron?" She called after the Kook as she finally pulled her hands down and placed them on her stomach, blowing a steady stream of air at a piece of hair covering her face.

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! I'm thinking about a possible second? xoxo

Requests for OBX are open!!

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 22

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

@alastair-appreciation-month

Previous Chapter: Chapter 21

Next Chapter: Chapter 23

Songs mentioned or quoted are Atlas, Rise by Metallica and Red Cold River by Breaking Benjamin

‘What about the opening above us?’ Cordelia asked. ‘If the water level rises enough, we can escape. I can cut through the bars with cortana.’

‘Are you sure it’s not just another magic barrier cortana won’t help us with?’

The water reached Cordelia’s neck now, and soon she wouldn’t be able to stand in it. The rising of the water level was becoming faster and faster. There was probably a puzzle down there somewhere, but it was too dark underwater, and quite possibly too late. The only way out was up.

‘No I’m not, but unless you think of anything else, it’s the best we’ve got.’

The water rose higher and Cordelia could no longer reach the floor. She was thankful that Lucie had taken her swimming in the past days and she knew how to keep her head above the water. Alastair was struggling a bit more with the change in level.

‘Make sure to keep your head above the water,’ Cordelia said, clutching cortana with both hands.

‘Genius, Cordelia,’ Alastair bit back. ‘Whatever would I do without your advice? It would never have occurred to me to keep my head above the water.’

Cordelia took his sarcasm as a good sign. Drowning people couldn’t speak. It wasn’t like in the movies where people yelled and waved.

When the water level was high enough to reach the bars, she started hacking at them. Parts of the bars fell beside her into the water. One hit her shoulder. She yelped in pain, but she could still move it. Nothing broken. It would probably bruise, but that was all.

She continued hacking at the bars until she was sure the opening was big enough, and turned cortana back into her necklace so she would have her hands free. The water had stopped rising about a foot beneath the surface. She grabbed what remained of the bars and pulled herself up, climbing out of the hole. When she was out, she extended her hand to Alastair and helped pull him out. Strands of his hair had gotten wet, but he’d gone a pretty good job at keeping his head above the water. The rest of him was soaked to the bone. As was Cordelia, including most of her hair. She was shivering and the air was cold as ever in the land in between. She felt like she would never get warm again. Alastair was shivering too, his arms wrapped around his body.

‘Do you have any idea how to get back to the ruins?’ Cordelia asked.

They were in the middle of the woods.

‘I just need to align directions underground with directions here. Give me a moment.’

Alastair sat down, and closed his eyes, going through his memory to navigate. Cordelia had never considered the use of his ability for navigation, but without it she would never have found her way through the maze.

‘Alright, I’ve got it. We have to go that way.’

Cordelia followed her brother quietly, until he stopped, holding his hand out to stop her from moving forward.

‘Do you hear that?’

Cordelia frowned, tried to focus on her hearing. Nothing. ‘Hear what?’

‘The siren’s song. Grace is here and we don’t have her skin yet. If we come any closer, we’ll be under her spell.’

Focused, Cordelia could make out something that sounded like singing, but it could just as easily be the wind. Alastair’s hearing had always been a bit sharper than hers. Sounds were often much louder when she was in his memory, and he tended to avoid loud noises. Except for his favorite music, which for some reason tended to be very loud.

‘So we have to get the key back to the dungeon with Grace’ skin and avoid hearing the song,’ Cordelia concluded. ‘How do we do that?’

Alastair took his phone out of his pocket. Even with careful use of the flashlight it still had a decent battery, whereas Cordelia’s phone was almost dead. He then took out a pair of unusually clean earbuds, and handed them to her, while at the same thing doing something with his phone, his long fingers carefully moving over the display.

Cordelia stared at the earbuds but didn’t do anything with them.

‘I cleaned them yesterday and haven’t used them since.’

‘I know they’re clean. But I don’t think this is enough to block out Grace’ voice. They’re not exactly noise cancelling headphones.’

Alastair used to have those at home, but they’d broken. Much later Alastair had told her Father had broken them while he was drunk. Cordelia wasn’t sure if it had been on purpose, but she knew it must have hurt. Alastair had an odd attachment to his belongings and was extremely careful with everything he owned, something everyone in the family knew about. Something Father knew. Cordelia wasn’t completely sure if their father broke things on purpose or by accident when he was drunk, but it was never father’s belongings that mysteriously broke.

‘It’s not, but it would be with some music on.’

Cordelia put the buds in her ears and Alastair put on a playlist on his phone. She realized he’d been making a playlist for her, probably with the loudest songs he could think of. Noise filled her ears, and Cordelia thought if she put the volume any louder she’d get hearing damage. How Alastair could listen to this, she had no idea.

She could see Alastair’s lips move, but couldn’t make out what she was saying. She pulled out one earbud.

‘What?’

‘You couldn’t hear me.’

‘No, not over that horrible noise you call music.’

‘Excuse me, that is Atlas Rise by Metallica. It’s a very good song.’

‘It’s just loud drums and guitars,’ Cordelia protested.

‘But it works,’ Alastair said. ‘If you couldn’t hear me, you won’t hear her song. I’ll wait here, I only have one pair of earbuds and if she controls me I’ll probably be a danger to you.’

‘What if the entrance is also flooded?’ Cordelia asked. ‘I mean, I can swim, but I don’t think your phone will survive that.’

‘It won’t,’ Alastair agreed. ‘And if you’re really unlucky you might get yourself electrocuted.’

‘I think that only happens when a charging phone falls into the water,’ Cordelia said. ‘But no amount of rice will be able to resurrect your phone if I take it into the water.’

‘So if you have to go into the water, try to just put down the phone somewhere I can find it later, and be quick about it. I think down there you won’t hear Grace either, we could only hear Thomas when he was shouting into the entrance. And if you end up losing or breaking my phone… Well, it was old anyway.’

It was very unlike Alastair to be alright with her losing or breaking his things, but she guessed he understood this was an emergency.

‘Don’t die, Layla,’ he said. ‘You get that skin.’

Cordelia put the earbuds back in, and she wondered why Alastair liked this so much. She broke into a run, she could see the ruins from here. She could see Tatiana and Grace, walking toward the ruins, and toward Lucie and Thomas. She had to get there first.

She couldn’t hear anything but Alastair’s music, and she had to admit it was working. This probably blocked out Grace better than Taylor Swift did. There’s not a thing I cannot make you do, Grace had said. But her magic didn’t work if Cordelia couldn’t hear her.

Die as you suffer in vain, own all the grief and the pain

Cordelia began to get an idea why Alastair was drawn to music like this, even if she couldn’t understand why he found it so soothing. He usually couldn’t stand loud noises and he used to wear his noise cancelling headphones whenever their mother was using the vacuum cleaner because he found it too loud.

By the time Cordelia reached the ruins, Tatiana and Grace had already reached Lucie and Thomas. There was a woman with them, a woman who greatly resembled Tatiana. Cordelia hid behind a tree, it was better if Tatiana didn’t see her until she could make a run for the skin.

The unfamiliar woman looked at Tatiana, distraught, and said something to her. Cordelia couldn’t hear a thing over Alastair’s music. Tatiana sneered something at the woman. Did they know each other? Cordelia didn’t think they were on good terms. Tatiana turned to Grace and said something to her. Grace rolled her eyes before responding. Tatiana muttered something before turning her attention back to the other woman, who said something that clearly distraught Tatiana.

Cordelia couldn’t hear a thing though. I can’t feel anything at all, this love has led me to the end, was all she heard, mixed with try to find a reason to live. Alastair’s music really was angsty.

The woman appeared gentle, caring even towards Tatiana, but Tatiana accepted none of her kindness, instead yelling something at her.

‘If you did, if you were really a mother, you’d understand I’d do anything for my son.’ She yelled loud enough that Cordelia could make out her words.

Tatiana was distracted, and Cordelia took her chance. She sprinted towards the trap door.

‘Stop her!’ Tatiana yelled, and she saw Thomas and Lucie come for her from the corner of her eye.

Cordelia was faster though. She reached the trap door, and realized the hall was indeed flooded. She removed the earbuds and dropped Alastair’s phone. She would buy him a new one if it broke, she decided. Hopefully she could find the money somewhere. Hopefully it wasn’t broken. She dived into the water, and underneath Grace’s voice was too distorted, too far away. She felt a hand around her ankle, grabbing her. The hand was big and firm, Thomas? Cordelia struggled against the grip, kicking back with her free foot. She hit someone’s chest, several times until the person had no choice but to let go.

Cordelia swum into the deep. She could barely see anything and realized there was no air in here. If she didn’t get to the skin before she was out of breath she was doomed. She would drown in here.

Her lungs began to burn for air, but Cordelia gripped the key tightly, and pushed it into where the door had been. The magic barrier lifted and the key broke just like all the other keys she’d found. It made no sense, but that didn’t matter. She could enter. Cordelia swum through, and grabbed the skin. Now to get back up. She turned around, and desperately swam up. She could see the light, and that’s where she needed to go. She gasped for air as soon as she was up, and now she could finally hear Grace’ singing. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard, certainly more beautiful than Alastair’s music.

Cordelia would do anything for her, but there was nothing Grace asked for right now. Cordelia climbed out of the trap hole, holding the skin in front of her. She would do anything for the siren, and she knew there was nothing Grace wanted more then the skin Cordelia was holding.

‘Grace! I have brought you what you asked for.’

Grace turned to look at her, and noticed the skin. She stopped singing.

‘What are you doing?’ Tatiana yelled.

Grace ran to Cordelia, and took hold of her skin, draping it around her shoulders like a cloak. Here she would be unable to turn into a seal, or at the very least it would be unpractical, but she was in control again.

‘You cannot control me anymore, Tatiana,’ Grace said.

Tatiana looked scared. She hesitated for a moment, but before Grace could do anything to stop her, Tatiana disappeared into a cloud of darkness. When had she learnt such magic? It must have been part of the deal she’d made with the thief of souls.

Lucie and Thomas broke free of the spell, and a few moments later Alastair appeared from behind the trees, still soaked to the bone and teeth clattering.

‘I came as soon as I heard she stopped singing. Is no one hurt?’

‘What happened to you?’ Thomas asked. ‘I saw the place flood, was there another exit?’

‘The key was a trap,’ Alastair said. ‘The room locked us in and then flooded, but there was a barred opening at the top. Cordelia cut through it with cortana so we could get out.’

‘How were you immune to my song?’ Grace asked Cordelia. ‘I kept trying to get you to stop. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you didn’t listen. But I don’t understand how you did it.’

Cordelia grinned. ‘I couldn’t hear you. My brother’s music taste is loud and heavy and I was listening to some music on his phone.’

Alastair looked around and picked up his phone and earbuds from next to the trap door. Cordelia desperately hoped she hadn’t broken anything.

Grace nodded. ‘I presume that is the modern version of putting wax in one’s ears.’

‘You will be returning to the sea, I guess?’ Cordelia asked.

‘As soon as I can. I’m glad to see the witch unlocked some of her potential. And I suspected that strange memory ability would be useful in navigating the puzzles to my skin. The rules of this land say there must be a solution to the puzzle, so Tatiana just made it as complicated as she could in the time she had. Be glad she’s been so busy, or it would have been twice as big.’

‘I think that was plenty,’ Alastair said.

‘But you solved it.’

‘Now that you’re free, can you tell us what Tatiana is up to?’

‘I cannot tell you everything, because I do not know all she is up to. I know her main goal is to resurrect Jesse, I know it cost her much to bring back his ghost and it will cost more to bring him to life. She has been an assassin of sorts for the thief of souls, collecting souls he deems interesting. My help made that a lot easier, she forced me to use my powers to make people kill themselves. I know eventually Thomas will die if she is not stopped, to replace Jesse, but only once he lives.’

‘Is there any way to help both Thomas and Jesse?’ Lucie asked.

‘Not unless you destroy the thief of souls himself,’ Grace said.

‘What is he, exactly?’ Lucie asked.

‘From what I’ve heard, he was once a mortal man who sought eternal life. He found a gateway to another realm where he could live forever and gather power through collecting souls. It’s not where the dead are supposed to go, but he takes them. Once he could draw people in at will, it depends on how strong the seal is. Now he only gets them when he makes deals with humans in exchanges for souls he finds interesting. I think it makes a difference if the soul is offered by someone closely connected to them, because he likes to ask for family members, loved ones. I think that when you offer a soul not related by blood, you have to kill them, but when you offer a soul related by blood, the thief can use the connection to find them himself. I’m not sure if that makes sense, but that’s why he needed Tatiana to be an assassin whereas he killed Jesse himself.

He can give magic away. Magic similar to what Lucie can do, that’s why Tatiana can see Jesse, and why she allowed me to see Jesse, so I could help her watch him. But his magic can also create sickness, cause people to disappear, the kind of thing Tatiana’s father did to his rivals. He doesn’t usually reach into our world without a blood connection, that’s why he can’t just kill at random.’

‘He created my sickness, didn’t he?’ Thomas asked.

‘I think it is not uncommon for those promised to him to develop a sickness,’ Grace said. ‘What happened to you and Jesse is a bit less common, I think, because he waited so long to collect. I think it’s because he suspected Tatiana could become useful to him, and he wanted to see just how far she’d go for him when he was sick. As for you, I think there was much he could learn about your family as well by keeping you sick. It was a good way to weigh which boy would to choose. Which soul would be more valuable, but also whose parents might deal with him. It became obvious Tatiana would go very far for her child with no care for who else got hurt, and so he chose Jesse. Because he knew she would do everything to bring him back.’

‘Just like you thought,’ Thomas said to Alastair.

‘Souls are the price of his game,’ Alastair said and Cordelia could tell he was thinking of something, but couldn’t tell what.

‘But they don’t know about me?’ Lucie asked.

‘Not yet,’ Grace said. ‘But it’s only a matter of time until they find out.’

‘Do you know why the thief of souls collects souls?’ Alastair asked. ‘Do they have a use for him?’

‘I think the more souls he collects, the more powerful he becomes,’ Grace said. ‘I’m not sure why it matters who. Of course, there will always be souls more interesting than others. I think the four or you would be more interesting than a hundred boring average people. And the connection to the people who offer the souls matter too. I think he draws power from bonds of family, or love.’

‘But how much love can there be if you’re willing to sacrifice someone for power,’ Alastair wondered.

Cordelia had to agree, if someone was willing to sacrifice a relative or a spouse for power, they couldn’t love them very much, could they? But perhaps it wasn’t so much about love as it was about the connection. Besides, love lay close to hate, much closer than people thought. Cordelia had learnt that indifference was the real opposite of love.

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Grace said. ‘The thief of souls only takes humans. My kind doesn’t have souls. Instead, when we die we turn into sea foam.’

That sounded rather horrifying. Wasn’t that what happened in the original little mermaid?

‘Do all mermaids, or selkies, know about this?’ Cordelia asked. ‘Or did you find out from Tatiana?’

‘We know stories, rumors,’ Grace said. ‘But with Tatiana I realized it was real. Even if she never told me anything, I learnt plenty by being around her.’

‘How long were you with her, exactly?’ Thomas asked.

‘Three years,’ Grace said. ‘She often pretended I was her daughter, and made me do the work the thief of souls asked of her. I haven’t been to the sea in all this time.’

‘And your skin was here for three years?’ Cordelia asked.

‘No, she only did that when she came here,’ Grace said. ‘Before, she kept it with her, but here she suspected you might steal it if you found out what it was. She didn’t realize I could still escape when she hadn’t given me specific instructions.’

‘If the thief of souls can do all these things, why does he not take over our world, kill at random?’ Alastair asked.

‘As I said, he needs a blood connection to operate in our world, and the promises form humans he works with. According to Tatiana, he has been sealed away by a witch a long time ago. But here’s where it gets interesting. Apparently, somewhere in the Victorian era he’d grown so powerful he could leave his realm, kill people without a deal. He had a daughter too at that time. A witch called Theresa Gray. She was the one who sealed him away. I think, considering how old he is, it must have been done before, but I don’t know how or when. The seal will break again, although I have no idea how long that will take.’

Lucie frowned. ‘Theresa Gray, that’s my mother’s name. Well, she usually goes by Tessa.’

Grace stared at Lucie. ‘I heard the thief speak of her. He never expected her betrayal, and couldn’t defeat her or stop her from sealing him. But he could take her memory. Weakened from the battle, she fell asleep in the land in between and only woke up a 130 years later with false memories of her childhood in time she woke up in. He took her power away while she slept, since she was in the land in between he could still do that. He does not believe she is a threat to him anymore, and thinks that with enough interesting or powerful souls, he’ll break free for good.’

‘Meaning this woman would live in the modern age, with no idea who she was?’ Alastair asked. ‘Lucie, it could really be your mother. The timeline adds up. And if she was the thief’s daughter, that would explain your why your power is so connected to his.’

‘Everyone in my mother’s family died,’ Lucie mused, ‘All when my mother was very young. My only family are on the Herondale side. It could be her. And although she doesn’t have the sight, it was very easy for my father to get her to see and believe, something that has always surprised him. But then she would have been the same witch Jessamine knew. Wouldn’t Jessamine have recognized her?’

‘I don’t know, it has been a very long time and Jessamine didn’t know her that well,’ Cordelia said. ‘Could easily be that Jessamine forgot her face.’

‘I could talk to your mother,’ Alastair said. ‘See if I can restore her memory. If she lived a different life than she remembers, the real memories are still there somewhere.’

‘Have you done anything like that before?’ Lucie asked.

‘Not as extreme as an entire life someone forgot,’ Alastair said. ‘But I have restored missing memories, yes. Most of the time, there isn’t much of a point to it though. Not everyone wants to remember.’

Cordelia knew what Alastair was talking about. It was something he’d told her about not long ago, after learning about their father’s alcoholism. He’d tried to restore their father’s memories from when he was too drunk to remember, hoping that if he knew how much he was hurting Alastair, he would stop. Nothing had changed though.

‘What is Tatiana planning next?’ Alastair asked Grace. ‘How much time do we have left?’

‘She didn’t tell me,’ Grace said. ‘She comes here to communicate with him, I think that was her intention today. But she wants you out of the way too. Ultimately, Thomas must die so Jesse can live, but I think she will try to kill all of you when she can, especially when she find out what Lucie can do. The thief lost track of witches, and they’re very uncommon nowadays.’

‘Are all witches his children?’ Lucie asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ Grace said. ‘In his current state, he would be unable to leave his realm and have a child, but he used to be able to. I don’t think he’d try again if he could though, not after his daughter turned on him. But they could be descendants, generations away. I’m not sure how the magic inherits.’

Some of the stones shifted, the ruins became a little more like a castle.

‘I think we need to get out of here,’ Cordelia said.

She was still soaking wet, as was Alastair, and getting colder. She longed for a hot shower and some clean clothes. Lucie opened a separate gateway for Grace, and they walked into the light that brought them back to the forest.

Lucie stared into the distance for a moment. ‘She’s become transparent again. Show yourself, Barbara.’

The woman Cordelia had seen before appeared. Who was she? Another ghost, but somehow Lucie had pulled her back into this world.

‘You’ve taken a soul away from him,’ Grace said. ‘You really are powerful. But he’s going to be very mad.’

‘What else was I supposed to do? I’m not sending her back,’ Lucie said crossly.

‘Fine with me, but you should know what you’re doing,’ Grace said. ‘You’re making a powerful enemy.’

‘He was always my enemy,’ Lucie said determinedly.

Cordelia feared what would happen though. Would the thief of souls realize how powerful Lucie was? Would he come for her, out of fear that Lucie would finish what Tessa had started?

Grace nodded. ‘Alright then. I will be going my own way. I need to return to the sea. Perhaps you can come visit me some day on the Isle of Skye.’

Grace then walked into the woods, and disappeared. Did she intend to walk all the way to the coast? Cordelia wanted to call after her, but she was long gone.

[xneens]

a lifetime of illusions

Warnings: angst, implied smut, mild violence, major character death

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: A whirlwind summer romance sweeps you off your feet. But you never once regretted it.

Or: In which you fall in love hard and fast, yet when it all stops, you spend the rest of your life thinking "What if?"

You never considered yourself as someone who would be swept off their feet just because of a guy with a pretty face. But he had been so much more than that. He made you happy, made you smile, made you feel truly alive. Not once had you regretted your decision; you were happy, as happy as someone could be.

Stepping outside, you blocked your eyes from the hot summer sun. The busy, yet small city noise filled your ears, the smell of saccharine desserts invaded your nose. Smiling, you felt at home in this foreign island. The people around you smiled, not one of those tight, uptight grimaces, but a genuine, huge smile. People around here were so different. It was nice.

You called for a cab, surprised there had been a cab at the small island, even more, surprised when they hadn't made fun of your struggle to communicate. Instead, they smiled and helped you figure out where you were supposed to go. He introduced himself as Barry.

"So, ma'am, how long are you staying in Savos for?" Barry asked, taking a turn left. Besides you, the beach stretched out for miles, the sun setting above the horizon. It left a streak of crimson in the orange sky.

Grinning, you shrugged, eyes twinkling with excitement. The long plane ride did nothing to drain the energy and excitement out of you. "Don't know. But from the looks of it, I want to stay forever. This is possibly the most beautiful place in the world."

"It sure is, ma'am. Especially during the summer, you came at the right time. We don't get a lot of tourists due to the long and exhausting traveling." Barry said, pulling up to the large hotel. "Here we are. Have a good night."

"Thanks, Barry. You, too." you thanked, opening the door. You were ever so grateful to pack light, the only thing in your hands was your phone, and bag hanging on your shoulder. The hot wind made you shiver, contrasted by the cold cab, the sudden temperatures changed made you crave the summertime more.

The cab drove away, the sweet sound of the tires against the cement hitting your ears. Walking to the hotel lobby, you checked in, admiring at the antique furniture and the warm white lights. It had an olden vibe, one that you didn't mind. The girl handed you your keys without a word, pointing to the elevator. You had to admit, the hotel was kind of stuffy, a little dusty but a little dust never killed anyone. Who were you to judge for the lack of dusting?

You reached your designated floor, the elevator doors opening with a loud ding. As if you were in a hurry, your sprinter down the hall to your room; in truth, you were just eager to change and see the island for yourself. Unlocking your door, you were greeted by the sight of a clean room, a white bed, white walls, and a white carpet. For an antique-looking hotel, you'd thought the room would have more character.

No matter. You tossed your bag on the bed, slipping into some clean clothes. If you weren't so hungry, you would've taken a shower, gotten rid of all the sticky things that touched you during your flight. Instead, you practically tore your dirty clothes off just to get a fresh feeling from your clean ones. Pulling your hair up, you texted your parents and friends, texting them you had made it.

They had all been a bit hesitant about having you travel to a foreign island by yourself. It had been a little ridiculous but you finally got all of them to agree. After all, you needed to celebrate graduating from college. It only happened once. What better way to celebrate than traveling around the world for the whole summer before returning back to your stuffy life?

There was a fun-looking restaurant across the street from the hotel. A lot of people crowded the place, dancing to the loud music leaking out of the restaurant. You snaked your way through the crowd until you reached the host stand, letting out a huge breath you've been holding in order to squeeze past. It might've been crowded inside but the restaurant wasn't. The tables were all filled but there had been no line.

You made your way to the table, smiling when you reached it. The host gave you a small smile. "Hello, do you happen to have a table for one?"

"Um, lemme check." She glanced down at the booklet in front of her, then scanned the place, as if an empty table was suddenly going to appear. "I'm sorry, ma'am but there isn't a table available. If you'd like you can wait, it won't be long—"

"She can sit with me. If she doesn't mind being tortured by my company." A voice interrupted. Both you and the hostess turned towards the source of the sound, eyes widening when you saw the breathtakingly gorgeous man. He smiled at you, holding out his hand. "Hey, I'm Chris."

You shook his hand, slightly confused by his blunt offer. You told him your name and the corner of his lips lifted even more. "You look really familiar, Chris."

His eyes glimmered with amusement. "Yeah, I get that a lot. You have a beautiful name. Would you like to dine with me tonight? It's totally okay if you say no but it'd be nice to have some company tonight. I'm new in town."

"Me, too," you replied. Biting your lip, you mulled over his question. You wanted to say yes—who wouldn't? He was absolutely beautiful but it wasn't like you to have dinner with a complete stranger. On the other hand, you did promise yourself to be more spontaneous, take more chances.

Sensing your hesitance, he scratched the back of his neck, glancing at the floor. "I promise I won't bite. And if you don't have a fun time, I'll give you some money and we can call it even. What'd ya say?"

Of course, you said yes. If you hadn't, your whole life could've gone so much differently.

—

It started with dinner, then lunch the next day. It wasn't long before the two of you spent your days together, sometimes going to the beach, sometimes staying in either of your hotel rooms, staying in each other arms, stealing a few kisses. You didn't realize how much of a big deal he was. And he didn't tell you, fearing you'd ditch him.

After your third official date, you slept with him, loving the way he touched you. You smiled when you woke up in his arms the next morning, he had mirrored your expression, kissing you until you were both breathless. Only a week had passed but you were so smitten by the Bostonian. It was during the second week that you realized how smitten he was with you.

"Christopher Columbus, you know how impatient I am. Come on! Lemme see." you pleaded, a little annoyed by his hands covering your eyes. He chuckled behind you, pulling you even closer to his chest. "Chris."

His chest vibrated from his laugh. "Sweetheart, I promise we're almost there. It's not a surprise if I show you. Just wait a little longer. I promise you'll love it."

You groaned, suffering blindness under his grasp. As much as you hated secrets, you liked the way his hands were on you, the way he looked in his Captain America swim trunks. It was adorable. "Okay, fine."

As soon as your feet touched the water, you started to get even more suspicious, aware you were ankle-deep in the ocean. Maybe he was gonna drown you. You let out a little laugh at that. The man had too much love in his heart to even think of such a dark thought.

"Do I get to hear the joke?" he asked, his lips grazing your ear. You giggled at the motion, his neatly trimmed beard tickling you. "Are you ticklish?"

There was a dangerous playfulness in his voice so you quickly shook your head no. "Of course not, your wild beard just gave me neck rash."

"Darling, that's just the hickey I gave you." he teased, laughing when he felt you roll your eyes under his hand. Chris swore, quickly leading you back towards the beach before making you walk across the hot sand with it sticking to your soaked sandals. "Sorry, my mind wandered and I accidentally led you somewhere else."

"Oh my, God." you snorted, finding amusement to your boyfriend's confusion. Was he your boyfriend? You didn't have the talk, let alone labeled what you were. Three dates, days spent together, and mind-blowing sex didn't mean you were dating, right?

Your sandals thud against the wooden ground. You raised an eyebrow at the feeling, curiosity making you impatient from the long-awaited surprise. It was ridiculous how long he made you wait, almost as ridiculous as Barney Stinson's legendary catchphrase Chris once jokingly admitted he loathed.

Once you were in the angled the way he wanted, he grinned, the smile touching his eyes. "Okay, are you ready?"

You nearly yelled at him. "Yes!"

With one swift movement, his hands disappear from your eyes, leaving you to open them slowly as you took in the scene in front of you. Floating in the water, a few feet away from you was a sailing yacht, the boat rocking slightly. A tiny squeal escaped your lips, glancing between the boat and Chris. You wrap your arms around the man, head snuggled against his chest.

"It was hard finding someone that would let me rent their boat without a boating license. But don't worry, I know enough to keep us afloat. Do you like it?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

It was crazy how this man could make your heartbeat out of your chest. Grinning up at him, you gave a nod. "I adore it. It really was worth the wait, huh?"

He wasn't looking at the boat when he answered. He was too busy admiring how beautiful you were to even take his eyes off of you. "Yeah, it really was."

You pulled him aboard the boat, letting him teach you all the right procedures. He had let you steer the boat with his assistance, murmuring praises in your ear, arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he stood behind you. The wind would blow your hair back, making him spit it out when it got in his mouth. Both of you laughed whenever a piece of your hair got wet from his spit; it was also very gross.

The day was spent on the boat, blankets tossed over both your bodies as you watched the sunset. Chris had decided to become the next Shakespeare as he described the colors of the sky, laughing when you jokingly mocked his Boston accent that slipped out every once in a while. Night had come, and Chris drove the boat back to the docks, thanking the owner.

That was the night he realized he was deeply and irrevocably in love with you.

—

He didn't get a chance to tell you.

He was ripped out of your arms before you could tell him you loved him. Didn't even get the chance to say goodbye.

July came and went. Chris had taken you back to his hometown with the plan to introduce you to his family. Neither of you thought it was moving too fast. You wanted him and he wanted you. It was as easy as that. Yet, he was nervous. Not because he wasn't sure if his family would accept you, he knew they would immediately adore you as he did.

No, he was a wreck ever since he placed his grandmother's ring in his pocket, waiting for the perfect opportunity to come up. It never did.

You met his cute dog, one he named after Oliver & Company. It was hard to decide who water cuter—you soon chose Dodger after Chris scared the shit out of you. The summer was coming together in the best way possible and you never wanted it to end, didn't want to go back to your normal life where everything was vanilla at best.

So, you didn't. You met his parents, spent the remainder of the summer with him in Boston. It was easy being with him, so easy you thought about blurting the three words that eased in your head whenever he smiled, laughed, or moved. You had it bad. Too bad you never found out how much he did.

It happened on a normal Saturday night; you were making dinner while Chris drove back from a day hanging out with Scott. Tonight was the night, the night you told him how in love you were with him, how he wiggled his way into your heart. Your hands were trembling with anxiety as you waited for him, trying to calm yourself, wishing he would get home faster. Dodger calmed you a little but it wasn't enough.

As it got later, your anxiety faded, anger replacing the strong feeling. You had been texting Chris, only getting a few responses in return until he just stopped. Anger seeped out of you as you put the food in the fridge, cursing at the thoughtfulness of your boyfriend. You never got to say sorry for thinking about yourself when his last thought was about you.

For him, tonight would've been the night. The night he confessed his love, the night he popped the question, the happiest night of his life until you get married. He was hopeful you would feel the same way, even asked his friends if they thought you did. They all had answered without hesitation, assuring him you did. So, he picked up his balls, and got his head together. He had a plan: tell you about his actor status, professed his heart out, and get on his knees.

Fate had other plans.

Chris could tell you were anxious, even through text he could read you. He tried his best to assure you he would be home soon. He smiled at the word; home was you. He shouldn't have been texting and driving. If people realized how important those ads were, maybe they would take them seriously. Unfortunately, Chris never thought he would end up as one of those.

It wasn't his fault, far from it. He had stayed in his lane, never veering off his own space. He might've been speeding, but it wasn't his fault. The headlights blinded him, so much that he couldn't move out of the way fast enough. The oncoming car came at him, and he died instantly.

Scott had called you, asking if he could come over, unable to tell you the bad news over the phone.

Opening the door, you greeted the other Evans brother. "Hey, Scott. Have you heard from Chris? He hasn't been answering my texts and I'm really worried. A little miffed but mostly worried—hey, are you okay?"

Tears ran down his cheek as he engulfed you in a hug. His body shook and your stomach dropped. "Chris...he got into a car accident. T-they tried to rush him to the hospital but, [Y/N], he was dead on impact. Sweetie..."

You fell to your knees, the rest of the sentence trailing off as the words sunk in your head.

He was dead.

You cried for days, with the amount of tears you cried, you could've filled the huge bathtub in Chris' house. It was worse during the funeral, seeing his dead, lifeless, cold body in a wooden casket. You didn't think could have gotten worse, but it did.

His will was read, he made changes to it during the summer. If anything happened, you had the house, Dodger was now yours, a handful of millions were in your hands. Other than Dodger, you didn't care about the possessions you held. Not until Lisa, Chris' mom, came by with a blue, velvet box in her hand.

You didn't open it until you couldn't stand it. Opening it, you found the pear-shaped diamond engagement ring resting in the middle. That was when you saw him. It took you by surprise, scared you shitless when you saw him standing in front of you, alive and as remembered. Dodger hadn't reacted to his dad's return. It made you wonder if you dreamt of his death. He didn't say a word as he took the box, got on his knees, and smiled up at you.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

You didn't have kids, instead you spent the rest of your lives enjoying each other's company. You got married, lived the American dream. It confused you whenever you saw mourning posts about Chris when he was clearly alive. So you stayed off the internet, living the second chance you were given. You were happy.

Chris showered you with presents, cuddled you every night, and woke you up with kisses every morning. You barely fought, and when you did, you never stayed mad at each other long. You couldn't find it in yourself to take him for granted again, not when he was taken away from you.

Scott would visit, his face becoming more and more concerned as the visits became monthly, like he was sure you were going insane. But you weren't. Not to you, at least. He never spoke to Chris when he visited, not that Chris was in the room when he did. Scott would stare at the engagement ring around your ring finger, a sad smile appearing on his face before he would go.

You dismissed everyone's weird behavior whenever you brought up Chris. They would always look down, avoiding the subject like he wasn't there. Still, you thought nothing wrong. You were too euphoric to realize how fucked up your situation was.

Life went on, you spent most of it with him, clinging to his presence as if you didn't hold on tight enough he was going to ripped out of your arms again. You got older, so did he, just not in the way you thought he would.

Sighing, you settled beside the love of your life, the back pain, and old age making it hard to get into bed. 70 was a bitch and you weren't taking it too well. Rolling over, you were greeted by the sight of the same Chris you met those many summers ago.

He smiled gently at you, tears brimming his eyes. He cupped your sagging cheek with his hand, the same hand you held so many times. "Sweetheart, I love you so much. You were my destined one but I never got to say goodbye. But you do. You have to let me go and live out the rest of your life."

"How...I—" you gasped softly, unable to feel him.

"You have to let me go."

And you did. Closing your eyes, you saw the past 50 years as they have been. You talking to the empty space in front of you, leaning against the couch, cuddling the pillow you thought was your lover. You truly saw the emptiness in Chris' family. They were lost without their brother, without their son while you lived a lifetime of illusions, delirious from the sadness over his death. You clung to him, even when it wasn't really him.

So, you did as he wished. You let him go and went to sleep.

But you never woke up. Because the only thing keeping you alive was his presence. And he was gone. It only took you five decades to realize how empty you were without him. Because he made you feel alive.

You had spent a lifetime imagining him.

[tyrannosauruswrecksstuff]

theories for Dnd Dads season 2:

[spoilers below for season 1!!!]

- It’s already confirmed that Link is Grant’s adopted son (Lincoln for short), and that Normal is an Oak kid. I think that Taylor is probably Nick’s kid (Taylor Swift) because upon listening to the season 1 aftershow again, I’ve realized that the idea for that bit is literally brought up in conversation, and I don’t think Freddie would pass up that opportunity because it is, quite frankly, too funny.

- I think Terry’s kid is the one missing from the trailer. My only running theory about that is that the other sons made a conscious effort to keep Terry out of D.A.D.D.I.E.S. because of Ron’s request on the video tape. It might also explain why the kids didn’t recognize Ron - maybe Terry raised his child completely separate from the other kids. Idk. I’m scared lol.

- I think something might’ve happened to Sparrow. I’ve seen a few theories about this and I honestly just have a feeling he’s either dead or believed to be dead. Maybe he’s joined up with the acolytes - it would be an interesting twist after Lark’s involvement with the Doodler. Clearly he’s found a way to break free of its thrall and seems to be on the “good side”. Considering that the Oaks have some sort of connection with the Doodler (apparently), maybe Sparrow is next. (I do think it would be pretty funny if when season 2 comes out, Sparrow is completely fine and living as happy and healthy a life as possible and we were all completely wrong.)

- I have no idea what “Code Purple” could mean other than maybe a connection to Willy or Barry. (Purple robes.) It intrigues me that Lark said, “It worked once before, maybe it can work again.” It would also explain the: “You might not like what you find.”

- As for the obsidian door, the only time obsidian was mentioned that I can recall is in the Tower of Terry episode. Maybe it has something to do with that? Really not sure. It also could have nothing to do with anything from season 1 and be completely new.

- I think the dads from season 1 are all either dead or assumed dead because of 1) the video message from Ron and 2) the fact that I don’t see Anthony playing the dads and it would be hard to play the dads and grandkids at the same time?? Interacting??? And that makes me immensely sad. As excited as I am for this new generation of characters, I wish I could live in my own little fantasy that all the dads end up okay and happy—

I’m honestly so pumped for this new season and know I will absolutely lose it when it drops. I wanna record all my thoughts here to see how wrong I am. It’ll be fun to look back on.

[vortahoney]

There’s a Lot of Math in Engineering

A piece I wrote for my art trade with @bensiskos

Hope you enjoy!

The last thing that the engineer of the U.S.S. Barry had expected was for a Ferengi child to become attached to him. When the ship stopped at a trading outpost, the little guy— he said his name was Breba— had snuck himself onto it, completely bypassing security. He only managed to go undetected for a while. He was later discovered holed up behind some equipment in Engineering. 

And then was promptly put into Dave’s care.

It was no secret that Dave liked children, he got baby fever every now and then, and he did hope to be a father someday, but he wasn’t exactly enthused about the impromptu adoption. He didn’t even know this child! How is he meant to care for them?

Though, he couldn’t say he was insulted that he was his coworkers’ first choice for “immediate parent”. And he couldn’t say that keeping Breba safe didn’t warm something in him.

Breba was always ready to learn, even if he was obviously nervous. For instance, he seemed to be scared of people, but he listened so well in the U.S.S. Barry’s small, three-person school. He and Dave even got into a little routine, now that he was his roommate. 

Usually, Dave would replicate breakfast and then take Breba to the little schoolroom on the lower deck, except on weekends, when he’d cook breakfast and watch old holo-movies with him. In the afternoons, once Breba was done with school and they’d eaten dinner, Dave would read him a story and put him into bed. Every day he felt more and more like the Ferengi’s father.

“Dave?” Breba looked at him from his small bed, nest-like bed in the corner.

“Hm?”

“I think I want to do engineering.”

Dave looked up from his PADD and crooked an eyebrow. “Well, that’s good, that you’re taking an interest in something! What makes you want to engineer?”

“Mr. Dean says I’m good at math.” He paused. “And I like all the machines on the ship.”

“The ones you named?”

Breba nodded and paused a moment. “And you do it.”

“Yeah, I do.” Dave smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. “I could show you around engineering, if you want.”

Eyes brightening, Breba perked up and nodded.

“But in the morning. You need to go to bed first.”

“But—” 

“No buts! Sleep.”

Breba grumbled, but he did turn over and fall asleep. Dave couldn’t help but look for a while, smiling, before he turned his PADD off and went to bed himself.

***

Dave was woken up at 0500 by a smiling, wide-eyed Ferengi. 

“Mornin’, buddy…” His voice was rough and groggy. “What are you doing up?”

“We were gonna go to engineering today!”

Yawning, Dave propped himself up. “Work doesn’t start for four hours.”

“Can’t we go early?”

“Alright, alright.” He stretched and pushed his hair out of his face. “I’ll clock in early and show you around. If I had known you were so interested, I would have brought you to work with me earlier.”

“Yes!” Breba leaped off of Dave’s bed and scurried to get dressed.

Smirking and shaking his head, Dave punched a few codes into the replicator: a bowl of toasted tubeworms for Breba and a bowl of oatmeal for him. Breba was practically buzzing with excitement, wolfing down his food and unable to sit fully still in his chair.

“Hey, hey. Slow down, buddy, or you’ll choke. Engineering isn’t going anywhere.”

“Sorry!” Breba finally took a pause and wiped his mouth with his napkin. 

“So what do you want to see first?”

“The warp core!” He answered almost immediately.

“Alright, the warp core it is.”

As soon as everything was ready, Breba dragged Dave by his wrist down to engineering. Dave didn’t hesitate to show him where everything was (in case he got lost), but Breba was too excited by all the machines, stopping to point out every beep or blinking light, to pay full attention.

“And this is the warp core.” Dave stopped right in front of it, watching Breba’s excitement grow when his eyes caught the soft blue glow. “Do you know what it does?”

“It’s like the engine. It makes the ship go into warp speed.”

Dave nodded. “That’s true, but it also powers the whole ship. Life support, lights, everything.”

“How does it do that?”

“Well,” He paused, trying to find the simplest explanation. “It takes matter, and antimatter, and puts it through a fusion reaction. That reaction makes the power that the ship needs, but it could also destroy the ship. The dilithium crystals inside the core are what makes sure the fusion reaction doesn’t get too big.”

Breba nodded, eyes still fixated on the core and its blue light. 

Dave cleared his throat. “My job is to fix anything that goes wrong here, or really anywhere else. If you want, you could go to Starfleet Academy and be an engineer too.”

“When can I go to Starfleet Academy?” His wide eyes finally broke from the warp core and turned to Dave. 

“After you’re done with high school. Then you have to take a test, and if you pass, you can study in the engineering department for four to six years and get your degree.”

“That’s a lot of school…”

“Well, I think it was worth it. And you like school, don’t you?”

Breba nodded, perking up. “I do! I like math!”

“Good news,” Dave crouched down to his level. “There’s a lot of math in engineering.”

Breba laughed and nodded. “I know.”

“Now let’s go take a look at my tools, you’ll need to know what they do.”

*** 

Rumblings coming from the warp core weren’t exactly something that one could ignore, especially when they were growing more intense and frequent by the hour. Dave had been working for hours trying to find the source of the problem, but it was to no avail. Until, of course, it dawned on him that one of the dilithium crystals had broken.

Unfortunately, this realization came to him at the worst possible movement. One rumble, particularly intense, had caused the entrance to the warp core to collapse in on itself, leaving only one miniscule opening that no regular-sized person could crawl through.

Red lights were the only illumination in engineering, and the speakers blasted a countdown to complete loss of life support. Ten minutes. Dave’s stomach turned with anxiety as he pored over the ship’s blueprints. The inside of his cheek was chewed raw, and he was starting to taste blood. There wasn’t any solution that he could see, at least, none that wouldn’t involve setting off explosives in the middle of the ship and risking a warp core explosion. A nervous growl rose in his throat as it became more and more likely they were all going to die.

Just as he lost all hope, he felt a tug at his sleeve. 

Breba was looking up at him with wide, shaming eyes. “Dave?” 

“What are you doing here??” Dave squeaked.

“I… well, I… I got scared.”

Biting his lip and taking a deep, calming breath, Dave looked down. “It’s really, really dangerous here right now. How did you even get out here? I thought you were in school!”

“The door caved in but there was a hole.”

“And you… got through…” A lightbulb went off in Dave’s brain. “Breba, do you remember anything about the warp core?”

“I- I…” he thought for a second and nodded.

Dave crouched down and handed him a beeping instrument. “I think I might have a job for you. I need you to fix the dilithium crystals. You think you can do that, buddy?” 

“But I don’t know how!” Panic flooded Breba’s face.

“I’ll walk you through it.” Dave pinned a communicator to his shirt. “Don’t worry, you’ll do great.”

Walking Breba through the process of re-aligning the dilithium crystals wasn’t as difficult as either of them expected. He crawled through the opening easily and, with Dave’s instruction, the process was done in under five minutes. The real hard part was getting his poor hands to stop shaking. 

“Hey, hey…” Dave’s voice was soft. “You did great! You saved the ship!”

Breba nodded, the trembling refusing to subside, and spoke up in a voice that was barely a whisper. “I was worried that I’d mess up and that everyone would…”

“You didn’t, okay? You didn’t mess up. You did so great, but I’ll make sure that you never have to do that kind of thing again.”

Breba nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. Just as he did, he whimpered and started crying. Dave’s eyes widened, and he pulled Breba into a hug.

“Are you okay?” He said after a while. 

“Yeah…”

Dave smiled and stood just in time to greet the Captain as she entered engineering. “Captain!”

Captain T’Athy took a breath and looked him in the eye. “I trust you got the issue with the warp core resolved?”

He nodded, placing a hand on Breba’s shoulder. “The crystals were unaligned. This little guy was the only one who was able to get through the rubble and fix them.”

Blushing, Breba lifted his hand and gave a small wave.

“Good work, Ferengi.” The captain offered her hand.

Breba took it, blushing even deeper. The captain gave a swift nod and left to go man the bridge.

“Good work? Wow, I think she’s warming up to you.” Dave gave him a pat on the back.

“Dave?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’d be a good engineer?”

“Of course I do, buddy!” Dave smiled gently. “You fixed the warp core, didn’t you? Now, let’s go get you some ice cream, you’ve had quite the day.”

[acelor-acetaylorswift]

In honor of International Ace Day, a list of famous asexual people whose work Taylor has referenced!

I've been meaning to do this post for a long time, but it's taken some research and help from friends...and when I saw today is International Asexuality Day, I figured it was the perfect time to finally pull this together!

Salvador Dali

"And losing on card game bets with Dalí" -the last great american dynasty

Emily Bronte

There are a lot of parallels between "my tears ricochet" and the relationship between Catherine and Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights.

"May she wake in torment...Why, she's a liar to the end...Be with me always...do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you..."

"Cursing my name, wishing I stayed"

"You say I killed you -- then haunt me!"

"You had to kill me but it killed you just the same"

"I didn't want to have to haunt you"

Heathcliff secretly comes to Catherine's wake

"And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?"

J. M. Barrie - author of Peter Pan

"tried to change the ending / Peter losing Wendy"

writing about her friends' three kids (PP was written about Barrie's friend's kids)

general Tinkerbell vibes in Taylor's styling (lol)

George Bernard Shaw - playwright

So in his play Pygmalion (adapted into the movie My Fair Lady with Audrey Hepburn...just put on netflix!) Henry and Eliza have a very tempestuous relationship, eventually leading to a huge fight at the end of the play. A lot of stuff in their argument reminds me of "my tears ricochet". And it's super interesting b/c Henry seems to basically just want him, Eliza, and their other friend to just live together in some platonic arrangement. Even before that, at the beginning, he expresses that he has no interest in marriage.

(the quote or example from the play is indented, the cursive is the taylor line that corresponds!)

"This ring isn't the jeweler's, it's the one you brought me in Brighton." *Henry throws it in the fireplace*

"We gather stones...Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring"

After Eliza is transformed into a lady, she is distraught because her transformation is supposed to let her go anywhere and be anything she wants, but when she tries to go home, she realizes she can't be there anymore.

"And I can go anywhere I want / Anywhere I want, just not home"

"You have wounded me to the heart."

"And you can aim for my heart, go for blood / But you would still miss me in your bones"

"Well, you have my voice on your gramophone. When you feel lonely without me, you can turn it on!"

"And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky) / And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)"

The beginning of the ME! music video also gives me My Fair Lady vibes with the costumes and the green wallpaper...looks like Henry's library.

Isaac Newton - scientist and mathematician

my tears ricochet: a ricochet (a rebound off a surface) = Newton's Third Law (for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction)

this is me trying: "the curve became a sphere" = Isaac Newton invented calculus

John Ruskin - art critic

Ruskin was an art critic who famously had his marriage annulled because it was never consummated. He fell in love with the Lake District at a young age and was inspired by it throughout his life, eventually buying a home there in the 1870s.

Alexa, play "the lakes" by Taylor Swift!

Florence Nightingale - nurse

Nightingale was an English nurse who revolutionized nursing on the warfront. I can't help but see a parallel in the heart-wrenching

"epiphany"

H.P. Lovecraft - writer

So there's this short story called "Colour out of Space". They made a movie of it recently with Nicholas Cage lol. Basically there's this meteor with an alien virus in it that makes plants really big, then turns them to brittle ash and leaves the fields barren...."My barren land / I am ash from your fire".

This guy finds the stone and keeps it, not knowing its destructive nature.... "We gather stones never knowing what they mean"

Edward Gorey - artist

Gorey did this cartoon which really speaks for itself.

"I'm still on that tightrope" -mirrorball

Nikola Tesla - engineer

Okay, this is one I want to do more research on because there is just so much to read about this guy and his brilliance/quick mind makes me think of Taylor. But a kind of similarity I found was that he drew a diagram of a solar eclipse and ironically, three years ago, Tesla car batteries had this weird thing happen when there was a solar eclipse...

my eclipsed sun

Also, at one point, people in the press began turning against a project of Tesla's, saying it was a hoax.

your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in

Kinda goofy ones, but I thought I'd put them out there as long as I was writing something up. And I'll leave you with the most amazing thing I found about Tesla, which kind of reminds me of Taylor's love for her CATS:

I have been feeding pigeons, thousands of them for years. But there was one, a beautiful bird, pure white with light grey tips on its wings; that one was different. It was a female. I had only to wish and call her and she would come flying to me. I loved that pigeon as a man loves a woman, and she loved me. As long as I had her, there was a purpose to my life.

Anyways, happy ace day! Hope you enjoyed this! I apologize that it's messy...formatting on tumblr is not my expertise lol. it was cool to see some prolific people who were possibly ace because there's not much visibility out there.

Feel free to share any other references/people to look into!

[berkmansimagines]

illicit affairs

A/N:  So on a whim I made a post about any folklore inspired requests and I got a few responses! I got two requests for illicit affairs so I tried my best to combine them both. Thank you @designersophisticate​ and the anon who made these requests!

Request: Ooh, do I have a Taylor Swift request for you. Strap in. Barry x fem!Reader — "illicit affairs." Y/N is married to one of the Chechens. Her and Barry meet, the attraction is instantaneous, and they end up going to bed with each other. They know it's wrong, but they don't care. They fall deeply in love with one another even though should Y/N's husband find out, he'd kill them both, it doesn't stop them. Lots of angst, lots of self-recrimination, lots of "who cares, it feels good." TYSVM! :-D

Request: Maybe a barry x fem reader based off of illicit affairs cause he's with Sally but they end up together :)

tw: mentions domestic abuse

You made sure your husband didn’t see you leave. While driving to the hotel, you took back roads and kept checking the rearview mirror. You put your hood up before you got out of the car so nobody could recognize you. Walking down the hallway towards your hotel room, you look over your shoulder. You know you’re being extra cautious but absolutely no one could find out about this. If word got to your husband, he’d kill you both.

You’re married to a man named Alexei, who works as muscle for the Chechens. There was love in your relationship once. Everything changed after you got married. He became verbally abusive and sometimes got violent. It turns out all your husband really wanted was a cook and a maid and someone to fuck. You feel like an idiot for falling for him in the first place. You’ve thought about leaving Alexei but you’re afraid of what he’ll do if you tried.

When you reach the hotel room, you take a deep breath and knock on the door. A moment later it opens.

“Hey Barry,” you smile.

“Hey,” his entire face lights up.

You first met Barry at Goran’s house a few months ago. You were there to drop your car off with Alexei. At the same time, Barry was discussing a job with Goran and Noho Hank. Something about Barry drew you in the moment you saw him. He felt it too. Before you even knew his name you were already sharing stolen glances. You both left at the same time and it started to rain, a rare thing for LA. Barry offered you a ride so you wouldn’t have to take the bus. But you didn’t want to go home and Barry didn’t want to be alone. The two of you ended up spending the day together. The first time you slept with him was in his parked car at an abandoned lot during that rain storm. You’ve been seeing each other in secret ever since. 

Barry opens the door wider and you go inside. He looks down the hallway one more time before he closes the door. He smiles to himself as you put down your hood, take off your jacket and place it on the chair. 

Barry was just happy he got to see you at all. He was almost late checking into the hotel because of acting class. Sally wanted to run lines with Barry after class and he had to make up an excuse. He feels bad lying to Sally. He likes her because she represents Barry Block, the new person that he’s trying to become. He enjoys acting with her. But Barry loves you. You know what Barry has done and accept him. He doesn’t need to hide things from you. You love him for who he is.

“I’ve missed you,” Barry says softly.

“I’ve missed you more,” you tell him.

“Not possible,” Barry gives you a small smile.

You and Barry rush towards each other and your lips smack together as you start making out. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You lead him towards the bed. The two of you sit down and Barry starts tugging at your shirt. You lift your arms up to make it easier for him to take it off. 

Barry tosses your shirt on the floor and checks you out. He spots bruises on your rib cage and hand marks on your neck. Barry’s eyes widen and his face drops.

“What happened to you?” he sounds concerned.

“It’s nothing,” you try.

“Y/n...” Barry’s not convinced, and then, “Did your husband do this?” 

You shake your head and look down at your feet.

“I… I don’t want to talk about it.”

Barry’s seen bruises on your before but you always told him that you were being clumsy and fell. Your newest injuries were harder to lie about, it was evident that you were hit and choked.

“And the bruises all those other times...they were from your husband too, right?” Barry asks in a low, serious tone. He already knows the answer.

You don’t respond. You nervously start shaking and keep your head down. That confirms it for Barry. You’re still being held by Barry and can feel his entire body tense up. You slowly lift your head up to meet his eyes, he looks furious.

“Barry, I came here to be with you. I don’t want to talk about him. Can’t this just be about us?” you plead.

“He shouldn’t be hitting you,” Barry shakes his head, “You need to leave him.”

“I can’t…” your voice drops.

“Yes you can,” Barry says gently, “It’ll be okay. You can stay with me.”

“That definitely can’t happen! If he finds out about the two of us… he’ll kill us both,” you tell him.

Barry sighs. He wouldn’t let that happen without a fight. Alexei is Chechen muscle but Barry was a much better shot. Your husband would be dead before hitting the ground if he ever tried breaking into Barry’s place. He’s about to speak up, but you continue talking.

“Besides, I can’t stay with you. You still have a girlfriend, remember?  If you think it’s so easy to just leave someone, why haven’t you ended things with Sally yet?”

“This isn’t about me and Sally! It’s about you and your piece of shit husband. If you’re not going to do anything about this, then I will,” he says.

“No! No, no you won’t,” you sternly reply. 

If anything happened to your husband, the Chechens would look into it. You didn’t want Goran’s men to go after either of you.

“I’m trying to protect you, baby. I mean you were just shaking like a scared little kid when I asked you about the bruises,” Barry tries.

“Don’t call me kid! Don’t call me baby! I told you that I didn’t want to talk about this,” you raise your voice and stand up, fighting back the urge to scream. 

“Y/n, I-” Barry starts before you cut him off.

“No! Barry, I wasn’t a cheater before I met you. I never thought I’d be here right now. I fucking hate this mess that we’ve created, but I love you. I think I love you more than I’ve ever loved Alexei and that scares the shit out of me because it puts you in even more danger… I can’t let anything happen to you. If you try going after Alexei I’m ending this thing now. You’re not getting hurt because of me.”

You pick up your shirt that Barry tossed on the floor and put it back on. Barry leaps up as you walk to the chair where you left your coat. 

“Y/n! C’mon, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to protect you, baby,” you repeat back to Barry.

You’re about to grab your jacket when Barry puts his hands on your shoulders.

“No! Please don’t leave,” Barry begs, “I love you too. I just hate the idea of that guy hurting you...”

You take a deep breath and cross your arms protectively over your chest. Barry lightly rubs your arms.

“I’m going to end things with Sally. I promise you, y/n. And then afterwards we can figure out the safest way for you to leave your husband,” Barry softly reassures you.

“He… he might kill me if I left,” you stutter.

“Y/n, he’s going to kill you if you don’t leave him,” Barry tells you.

You nervously gulp. That just hit you like a ton of bricks. Barry was right and deep down you knew it too. You look down at your feet and try to figure out what to say. After a moment, you look back up at Barry.

“Are you really going to leave Sally?” you ask.

“I will,” Barry nods, “Then I’m getting you out of that house.”

Barry wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug. You nuzzle your head into his shoulder. 

“I love you, y/n,” Barry whispers. “Everything is going to work out, I promise.”

“I love you too.”

[harcidian]

just saw you updated your wip fics AAAA I’m curious about the whiskey on ice thing and epiphany. It sounds poetic (*´ω｀*) and mission impossible too

I haven’t seen that emoticon since 2012 omg I never knew I missed it until now. Anyway hello dearest anon 💗 thanks for the ask!

first of all, I plan on making all of my fics in the same timeline and ‘universe’ (so it’s the same in my Roy and Riza Observation Journal fic). Unless otherwise stated!

• Whiskey on Ice, Amber Brown Eyes - a two-shot fic. Hurt/Comfort. In-canon “what if” scene. Directly after Hughes’ funeral. Based from @volvare ‘s beautiful art here (srsly guys she’s AWESOME 🤩). I told her I’d reblog her art and make a ficlet out of it, but then the idea expanded into a two-shot. I’m almost done with the first part aaa. I might make the second part a bit... daring 👀 covid-19 has deprived me too much and it just shows!!! to think i even made whiskey as my muse

Everything was a blur to Roy Mustang that day, and the next thing he knew, he was at Madame Christmas’ shop. Nobody could blame him, right? After all, he had come from his best friend’s funeral. Roy swirled the whiskey in his glass, mindlessly watching the ice chink against each other. Although his throat burned from all the shots he consumed, he still couldn’t help but curse at the damned liquid. Was that all it got? He needed something stronger— a real punch to the gut— to wash away all his thoughts even just for a moment. He glared into the crystalline golden-brown liquid, as if it would grant his demand. “Mind if I join you?” came a familiar voice. Roy tossed his head up and found himself staring into the same pools of amber. Only this time, it might be what he was looking for.

• epiphany - one-shot. Hurt/Comfort. In-canon “what if” scene. TW: PTSD, Blood. Roy burning Riza’s back. It’s a heavily-implied scene, and I first drew the idea here. Rated M. A supplement to my Roy and Riza Observation Journal fic. Loosely based from Taylor Swift’s epiphany.

Just a flesh wound

Here's your rifle (...)

With you I serve, with you I fall down. (...)

But you dream of some epiphany

Just one single glimpse of relief

To make some sense of what you've seen

Might also make an amv with edwin in it, idunno I’m an indecisive person sometimes 😆 still no promises yet

• mission impossible - one-shot. In-canon (ish?). Humor (finally!) I’m still iffy with the title, I know there are a lot of royai fics out there with a similar idea, but I wanna make my own version too! It’s leaning into the 03 canon, since I’ll include Barry the Chopper alive. Might be in a different timeline with the rest of my fics. But it’s all still negotiable!!

Roy Mustang has always been a man who knows his limits. Him getting drunk? Impossible. Working on the same case with the Fullmetal? Impossible. Dating the Lieutenant? Impossible. The line between the possible and impossible has always been clear to him— until one mission begs him to differ.

lemme know if u guys are interested in any of these, it’ll mean the world to me! 😩✊🏻

other wips here

[mackies-thoughts]

Life in Music

Music has always been a major part of my life, so naturally my life can be defined by what music I was listening to at the time. I will listen to my music on shuffle and say “Oh, I remember listening to this in [insert random moment in time here]”. Thus a definitive list of my life in music is born!

Fall 2018

Shawn Mendes album (I listened to this on repeat while suffering through my online algebra assignments)

Youngblood - 5SOS album (I listened to this for the first time packing for winter break!)

Oye Como Va - Tito Puente (this was discovered during my World Music class and my roommate and I would listen to it over and over again)

Duck Tails theme song (again, my roommate and I have weird taste in music I guess)

Killer Queen - 5SOS

Polaroid - Jonas Blue, Liam Payne & Lennon Stella

Fine - Spencer Sutherland (I would listen to this song on repeat at least 15 times in a row)

Shotgun - George Ezra (My dad got me into this song)

Still New York - MAX and Joey Bada$$

8 Letters (album) - Why Don’t We (the beginning of a lovely obsession)

Happier - Marshmello (DO NOT watch this music video, whatever you do)

Have It All - Jason Mraz (This is a super specific memory but I was listening to this walking to Centennial Hall and it put me in such a good mood which algebra class ruined immediately)

LANY (album) - LANY

Spring 2019

Dan and Shay - all albums (but I like the Obsessed album the best I think)

Unbelievable - Why Don’t We (the best WDW song to date, I will fight people on this)

Don’t Change - Why Don’t We

Phases - PRETTYMUCH (I remember many cold mornings at 7 am walking to Chemistry and listening to this on repeat)

If I Can’t Have You - Shawn Mendes (I remember driving to surprise our best friend at his college graduation and blasting this song with the windows down, such a fun day!)

Look What God Gave Her - Thomas Rhett (I have a specific memory of driving to Walmart with my roommate and choosing this song to listen to)

Someone to You - BANNERS (this song was used in After and I saw that with my roommate and another friend during Block Party weekend)

NIKES - Jake Miller

Here With Me - Marshmello feat. CHVRCHES (I listened to this one so much that my roommate actually banned me from listening to it around her because she was so sick of it)

Love Me Less - MAX & Quinn XCII

Who Do You Love - The Chainsmokers & 5SOS

I Don’t Belong In This Club - Why Don’t We & Macklemore (pretty sure there’s a video of me singing this song very poorly 😂)

comethru - Jeremy Zucker (feat. Bea Miller)

Cody Simpson - all new albums (this obsession started after I saw him in Anastasia on a trip to New York and I’m now in love, he has such a summer vibe in all of his newer music)

Fall 2019 (aka worst semester everrr)

Kill My Mind - Louis Tomlinson (anxiously waiting for Walls to release!!)

Yellow Hearts - Ant Saunders (courtesy of TikTok)

Fine Line (album) - Harry Styles (my roommate became obsessed with Watermelon Suger so I thought she would become obsessed like me - thought wrong; the video for Adore You dropped and I watched it while getting ready one morning to which my roommate said “What the heck are you watching?”)

Ophelia - The Lumineers (TikTok again, I might be obsessed)

5SOS - Sounds Good Feels Good album and Teeth (this semester made me feel angsty and SGFG definitely helps with that)

Colors (EP) - Jacob Whitesides (I may have cried out of pride listening to this the first time which was as soon as it was released)

What Am I - Why Don’t We (changed my mind, this is the best WDW song)

Next to Normal soundtrack (watched a bootleg of this on YouTube and cried)

Flicker (album) - Niall Horan (I’m a bad fan but I just now listened to this album...oops. It was on repeat studying in the library for finals with my roommate)

Put a Little Love on Me - Niall Horan

Nice to Meet Ya - Niall Horan (this song excited me because he speaks French and the only class I enjoyed this semester was French so)

Suburban Girl - Lostboycrow (I jam hard to this song, I was listening to a chill playlist while doing laundry and that’s how I discovered this song)

10,000 Hours - Dan and Shay (I also listened to this one on repeat as soon as it came out, along with Kill My Mind)

Mother - Charlie Puth (I saw this king in concert and he will forever be one of my favs)

Things That We Drink To - Morgan Wallen (I discovered him on a band bus ride back from Shippensburg University and I fell in love with this Australian country singer)

Aaand during winter break I have been listening to High School Musical: The Musical: The Series which I was ready to hate but I’m actually in love with!

Spring 2020 - aka Corona Virus University

Goldfish Crackers - Good Revere (best TikTok dance everrrr, my roommate and I are obsessed with it and we do it together a lot, even if it is just over FaceTime)

Heartbreak Weather (album) - Niall Horan (so so amazing, I could listen to it over and over for the rest of my life which may or not be happening)

CALM (album) - 5 Seconds of Summer (again, great album and have it on repeat)

Common Sense - Joshua Basset (cute, cute song from a cute, cute boy)

IDK You Yet - Alexander 23 (another really cute song)

Starry - (this is a musical based on the life of Vincent Van Gogh, sounds a little bizarre but I promise it’s incredible! Dillon Klena is part of the team now although he didn’t sing on the actual recording)

Whistler - Kathryn Gallagher (she’s part of the Jagged Little Pill company on Broadway and she’s so good!)

Jasper Avenue - CaRter (vibeeees)

Little Women Soundtrack - (all instrumental and I’ve written many an English paper/Genetics paper to it)

Intentions - Justin Bieber feat. Quavo (I only know a few words but that doesn’t stop me from vibing as hard as I possibly can!)

Sunday Best - Surfaces (another TikTok song but it is so so good and gets stuck in my head. Bonus is that I can do the dance!)

Winter Hurts (EP) - Jacob Whitesides (another banging album from my dude! Go check it out if you haven’t already!)

Beautiful Soul - Jesse McCartney (this has always been my favorite song but it now has so much more meaning to me because it was Corey La Barrie’s favorite too. Rest in Paradise bud<3)

Hedwig and the Angry Inch album (specifically the Riverdale cast album, some may say it’s cringey but I loved it! - “Here’s to Ronnie...”)

Fall 2020

Fallin’ - Why Don’t We (such an amazing group of guys that are finally producing music that is 100% them! I’m really looking forward to seeing the rest of their album because if it is anything like this then it is about to break the charts)

Julie and the Phantoms Cast Album (OH MY GOSH I need to make a post with all of my JATP thoughts because this show has so many layers that make it absolutely incredible. There are no skips on the album AT ALL)

Hold Me Down - Jacob Whitesides (This is his best song by far and I streamed it for about 24 hours straight so my boy could rack up his streams on Spotify 😌)

mama’s boy - LANY (another amazing album by them! My favorite differs from day to day but currently it is (what i wish just one person would say to me))

Lotus Inn - Why Don’t We (This is such a feel-good song and honestly I’ve listened to it so many times and am still not tired of it at all. The music video is incredible and it was another of Corey’s favorite songs <3)

evermore - Taylor Swift (holy cow, this girl is amazing! My favorite is happiness, tolerate it, and gold rush!)

Wonder - Shawn Mendes album (so many cute love songs and Monster with Justin Bieber is sooo good!)

Almost Maybes - Jordan Davis

Spring 2021

Every Girl I Ever Loved - Noah Schnacky

It’s Not You It’s Me - EBEN

Roses - The Band CAMINO

Greek Tragedy - The Wombats

About You Now - Sam and Sounds

Glad You Exist - Dan and Shay

Honeymoon (Demo) - The Shadowboxers

remember the mornings - Clinton Kane

CHICKEN TENDIES - Clinton Kane

Break My Heart - JC Stewart

u suck - Emily Bear

afraid to die - Jacob Whitesides

losing a friend - Jacob Whitesides

Summer 2021 (CMERA in particular)

everything sucks - vaultboy

Alaina - John Harvie

Casual - Ian McConnel

Lemon Drop - Raynes

Big Kids (Bergie Remix) - Lukr, Bergie

Cheers to My Teenage Years

Best Thing Ever

Fall 2021

Love Back - Why Don’t We

I Guess I’m In Love - Clinton Kane

[neveralarch]

Yuletide reveals!!

Happy New Year! I started writing fic in 2010 and also started doing Yuletide in 2010, so it's now been a decade :) Always one of my favorite things about December. For Yuletide this year I was gifted this amazing fic: How I Spent My Vacation Between Survey Missions (3727 words) by Satchelfoot Fandom: The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells Rating: General Audiences Characters: Murderbot (Murderbot Diaries), Asshole Research Transport (Murderbot Diaries) Summary:What happens when ART reunites with Murderbot during another break between research survey missions? Media gets viewed, of course, but there might also be some bad news for more shady corporations. It's a fun little adventure about two characters who were made by humans but don't entirely understand how humans think, trying to figure out how firendship works. I loved it!! It also looks like Satchelfoot maybe picked me up as a pinch hit, which I so so so appreciate. What a good Yuletide. I wrote 11 fics, as usual - though I'm reconsidering this tradition a little, haha. Christmas Eve turned into a pretty late night for me. My main fic is: Worthy of Attention (2563 words) for Xochiquetzl Fandom: Imperial Radch Series - Ann Leckie Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Gem of Sphene & Zeiat (Imperial Radch) Characters: Gem of Sphene (Imperial Radch), Zeiat (Imperial Radch), Queter (Imperial Radch) Summary: Sphene has a new captain. Ambassador Zeiat isn't sure what to think about that. I struggled with this quite a bit and actually ended up writing half of a different plot before starting over, but I'm happy with what I ended up with :) This is, coincidentally, also a fic of two not-really human people trying to figure out how friendship works. This might be, uh, symptomatic of the whole Transformers thing that's been happening over here all year.

The rest of the fics are under the cut - Gideon the Ninth, Nero Wolfe, lies about baseball, Hustlers, Inspector Chen, JSMN, Rivers of London, Matthew Swift, The Raven Tower, and Murderbot Diaries!

Good Morning (1132 words) for Griddlebone Fandom: Gideon the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Gideon Nav & Harrowhark Nonagesimus Additional Tags: getting swole Summary: Gideon's Guide to Doing Some Push-Ups, At Least, Have You Never Used Your Arms, Nonagesimus? Allow me to evangelize for a minute: Gideon the Ninth is a really, really, fun book, and also, very sad. I tried to lean into the fun part more for this, but it maybe got a little melancholy in places, haha. Nero Wolfe's Caffeine Agency (1386 words) for Nestra Fandom: Nero Wolfe - Rex Stout Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Archie Goodwin/Saul Panzer Characters: Archie Goodwin, Saul Panzer, Fred Durkin, Nero Wolfe, Fritz Brenner Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés Summary: At five fifty-three AM exactly, I was cleaning the heads of the espresso machine and arguing with Fred Durkin. Normally five fifty-three AM is a time of night that I don't see except to roll over in bed, but that morning I had maneuvered my way into opening the coffee shop for a very particular reason which Fred was obstructing. I think I've spent my entire life preparing to write this fic - or at least all the many hours I spent either reading Nero Wolfe novels or working with an espresso machine. A Narrative History of the Home Run (1031 words) for mayhap Fandom: An Oral History Of The 1998 Major League Baseball Home Run Chase (ClickHole Article) Rating: General Audiences Characters: Willie Mays, Barry Bonds Summary: Willie Mays invented the home run. Please read that ClickHole article, it's SO fun. The Way You Make Me Feel (1379 words) for angelheadedhipster Fandom: Hustlers (2019) Rating: Explicit Relationships: Destiny (Hustlers)/Ramona Vega Additional Tags: Mommy Kink, Lapdance, Vaginal Fingering Summary: Destiny and Ramona have a sleepover. I've been wanting to write Ramona/Destiny sex ever since I watched this brilliant movie. It was still very weird to write explicit fic with real human body parts, I'm so out of practice. Century Egg (1030 words) for james Fandom: Inspector Chen - Liz William Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Chen Wei/Inari/Zhu Irzh, Chen Wei/Inari Additional Tags: Getting Together Summary: Chen Wei is a model detective. He has the favor of a goddess and the blessings of his superiors. He brings packed lunches to work. He loves a demon wife. Zhu Irzh wants that. This prompt pushed me to finish a fic I started forever ago! Or, really, it was a few scribbled lines in a notepad document. But it felt really good to get this out there. Tincture (1069 words) for notkingyet Fandom: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke Rating: General Audiences Characters: John Childermass, Gilbert Norrell Additional Tags: Illnesses, Hurt/Comfort, (but only barely) Summary: Childermass was ill. His nose was clogged, his head felt like it was full of cotton, and his throat was full of sandpaper. If he was a wealthy man, he might have rolled over in bed and written the day off as a loss. Unfortunately, there were no days off from being Mr. Gilbert Norrell's right hand. I just. Love writing mild illnesses and people being bad at comforting. Hewn Through the Rock (495 words) for 20thcenturyvole Fandom: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Beverley Brook/Peter Grant Characters: Beverley Brook Additional Tags: Post-Book: Lies Sleeping Summary: Beverley runs an errand. I wrote a lot of my old book fandoms this year, because, I consumed almost no new media :p But Rivers of London is always so fun and comfortable to write. Butterflies (415 words) for Seiya234 Fandom: Matthew Swift Series - Kate Griffin Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Rhys Ellis/Sharon Li Additional Tags: Post-Book: The Glass God Summary: One of the odd things about saving the Midnight Mayor, or London, or, possibly, the world, is that life just keeps happening when you're done. See above note, haha. I miss the Matthew Swift books so much!! I want a new Sharon Li adventure... In All Its Guises (487 words) for tangentti Fandom: The Raven Tower - Ann Leckie Rating: General Audiences Characters: The Myriad (The Raven Tower) Summary: Here is a story. Some part of it is probably true. Oh, this one is a new fandom! I really liked the Raven Tower, highly recommended if you like (surprise) non-human characters trying to understand friendship. Rest in the Grass (562 words) for malachibi Fandom: The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells Rating: General Audiences Characters: Murderbot (Murderbot Diaries) Additional Tags: AU Post All Systems Red Summary: It was a hard decision, going home with Dr. Mensah after she bought my contract. Murderbot figures out what comes next. I also wrote Murderbot fic! A good bookend to my Yuletide :) I hope you also had fun, if you did Yuletide! And if you didn't, please feel free to ask me more about the exchange - it's my favorite fic event of the year, and I'm always happy to talk about it.

[fyeahwonderbat]

Keywords: Balance

Rating: T (Series); G (chapter) Word Count: 2,311 words Universe: DCEU, post-BvS (AU)

________________________________________________________________

The Flying Fox felt hollow as it cut through the air at sixty thousand feet. Soaring smoothly over the clouds, Bruce piloted his prized plane with the expertise that he’d honed for years, and the concentration of a man who reveled in being as antisocial as possible. He sped through the night so that he could meet the sunrise just as it rose over Gotham, with roughly four thousand nautical miles to traverse between New York and Moscow that warranted his undivided attention. There was still six hours of airtime and refused to vacate his pilot seat for a single second of the voyage. 

Especially when there was a fuming Diana somewhere on board.

Bruce could hear her infuriated shouts echoing in his head from the argument they’d had before the mission even began. She had been adamant that they didn’t need to visit the desolate village he had considered an international threat. He, being one of the only mortals whose stubbornness rivaled the Amazon’s, refused to see her point of view after learning that the radioactive hub on the outskirts of the town was the epicenter of his investigation into what he referred to as ‘hellions’. 

As a woman who claimed to have killed things from other worlds before, he had assumed she’d be thrilled to join him on this mission.

Instead, Wonder Woman scolded him about his lack of self-preservation and willingness to coordinate with the League properly.

The League that he had compelled her to help him form. 

“How much longer until we arrive?” Asked the very woman who was on his mind. Her voice drifted into his ear and cleared the fog that he was lost in, replacing his mindless thoughts with a swift reply.

He answered her over his shoulder without ever turning to face her, “Six hours, maybe less.”

“Hm.” Was her meager response, punctuating the sound of her dropping into the seat behind him, off to his right. Knowing that Diana was in the cockpit with him now and presumably intending to stay was more unnerving than he’d ever admit to.

Bruce gazed at the weather radar and allowed himself to become hypnotized. He needed to center himself if she was preparing to argue with him after the disappointing results of their trip. In his eyes, the information they gathered was monumental to his study of the hellions. But surely, because she wasn’t given the chance to punch something into the ground or act as a battering name in the name of justice, Wonder Woman would have more to say about her disapproval of the Batman’s methods.

She acted like the governess of not only the League, but of him as well, providing him with unwarranted checks and balances as the criteria for his style of operations. Coddling him at times when he was certain of the action he had to take. No one had ever serviced him while simultaneously challenging him the way that Diana did. Unwilling to be placed under her thumb any longer, Bruce stated a little too pridefully, “Alfred is looking over the information we gathered now and we’re working on locating their real base of operation.”

“That’s possible?” She questioned with a sleep-induced drawl. 

He immediately reined himself in, feeling like a bully for antagonizing her while she was trying to sleep. “We’ll send out a search for their signature. Since they move around while infected with so much radiation, it shouldn’t be difficult to--”

“Bruce,” she called to him.

“What?” The abrupt shift in conversation made his jaw snap closed very aggressively at the end of his retort. 

Unbothered by his ever present antagonism, Diana brushed passed his tone of voice in a way he nearly admired as she asked, “You’re going to need more than the accessories on your belt to defeat those hellions.” 

Now, it seemed as though she was antagonizing him. “They’re clearly monsters of some kind, with an origin in science or possibly mythology. The hellions I’ve seen have taken on an almost chimera-like appearance while looking as though they’re made from stone,” He stated the facts of their situation so that she couldn’t find a single word to dispute. Then, Bruce leaned into his irritation so that he’d motivate himself to turn on autopilot as he spun around and faced her to finish off his explanation. “I’m aware that they can’t be stopped by a tranquiliser or a taser.”

“Then what was your goal here?” inquired Diana. Her legs were tucked underneath her rather informally compared to the statuesque posture he had imagined her in while his eyes had been fixated on the sky. Prim and proper no matter the situation he was in, it was odd to witness Wonder Woman snuggling into her seat at the Flying Fox like she was at a slumber party. The pale white lights that lit up the cockpit managed to highlight the pale complexion on her face and though he couldn’t understand why she looked so worn, Bruce knew she still had some fight in her based on her question.

Confidently, he bit back, “I told you - we needed to determine if this was the place they were originating from.”

Diana sighed, “Did you expect them to originate from a hive mind? Did you think it’d really be so simple?”

“No.” Bruce growled.

“Then what?” her tone grew harsher as she sat up in her seat. “If your technology is so great, why did you and I risk our lives by coming here? We were in Russia for almost two days and all we did was spectate their behaviours at one of their nests and evacuate a village when they started turning on each other and ripping themselves to shreds.”

Bruce thought he was hilarious when he answered her with a great deal of attitude, “I’m sure those villagers said thank you in Russian.”

The fire in her eyes sparked instantaneously and her feet slammed onto the floor with a heavy thud. Furious, unimpressed, Diana scolded him just like he expected her to. “We should have told Barry where we were going, or asked Arthur to join us. We are sitting on this plane right now due to luck and nothing else. Not your skills, or mine! We are lucky they never paid any attention to us or who knows what would have happened.”

“We didn’t need reinforcements if we were only observing their behaviour and studying their base.” Bruce pointed out.

“Victor would have been better suited than either of us!” Diana argued, the volume of her voice rising.

Behaving in a reactionary fashion caused his voice to grow louder as well. “If you don’t like the calls I’m making, then you can decline my invitations for these missions. I’m not twisting your arm to make you come with me, Diana.”

“You’re absolutely maddening!” Now, while shouting at the top of her lungs, she had risen to her feet and glared at him with a ferocity that told him she was prepared to beat the argument out of him. “These creatures we saw rip each other apart without much provocation and you cannot see how unjustified you were to come here without anything but your pride to guide you? Your kevlar suit would only make it more of an exciting challenge for them to do the same to you, had they caught you snooping around their base!”

Though she wasn’t incorrect, his mortality wasn’t what their clash was centered around. Bruce stayed absolutely still when he sought her conclusion, “What’s your point?”

“My point,” she contended, “is that you may be scared of what these hellions are capable of, but throwing yourself at them is not the solution. If there is a plan of action that needs to be made, it must be considered by the entire team.”

“Not everything we do is a League-related matter.” He rebuked her perspective entirely.

Diana was not having it, however. So exhausted with him and his point of view, she looked him dead in the eye and dared him to explain, “Then why did you extend an invitation to me?”

That, he could not address so easily. While concocting his plan for the mission to Russia, it seemed only logical that he bring a metahuman with him in case things did in fact take a turn for the worse. For someone who had such a difficult time relying on the people in his own city, inviting Wonder Woman was the easiest pill to swallow when compared to the other options he had before him. Not only that, but the trust he had in Diana was incomparable to the lukewarm relationship he had with Arthur, or the distance he kept from the skittish Barry unless his presence was absolutely necessary.

Diana also didn’t know that Victor was on standby for Alfred’s call back in Gotham already.

He watched her turn her back on him and return to her seat when he didn’t maintain the speed at which their conversation was flying. He took the chance to observe the way her shoulders had fallen and the way her long black hair outlined her hunched over posture. Something about this entire scenario had stolen away a great deal of her energy for reasons he couldn’t understand. Nevertheless, he knew that arguing with him tended to wear out even the best of people.

Like her.

Bruce decided to throw off his cowl and run a gloved hand over his face in an act of frustration. He knew he needed to answer her, however, it took much longer than he expected to find the words he needed to justify his decision-making process. Finally, just as she tucked those long legs of hers underneath herself once again, he blurted out, “Because no one is as desperate to keep me alive the way you do.” 

It was a sarcastic remark. Despite how the entire temperature of the cockpit had cooled, Bruce had genuinely intended to rile her up even more so with his insensitive words. After all, they weren’t off the mark. Whether she tried to reprimand him before taking off to Russia or she was forced to carry him out of the village in one arm and a panicked Siberian Husky in the other, he could always rely on her should he need it.

Should he.

To his surprise, Diana laughed at his childish teasing. It was only a couple of giggles, but he managed to make her smile. When she finished taking in a rather deep breath, she whispered, “I suppose that’s true. So you’re admitting I was roped into your chaos due to my own sentimentality?”

Bruce was flabbergasted once again by her indirect accusation. He chose to check on the sky for any glimpse of the sunrise as a type of distraction that would have allowed him some time to think. This time, his attempt at humor was more friendly, in a surface level kind of way, “I’m sure you would have complained about me going alone, too, so it was more efficient to let you scold me on the trip there and back.” 

“Hm, I suppose that’s true. But remember one thing, Bruce,” He never heard her voice grow louder in his ear, however, he felt her hand when it landed on his shoulder the instant she said his name. The contact would have made him jump had he not been trained to rid himself of such primitive reactions to shocking moments such as this. Though his skin did indeed crawl beneath his kevlar suit when she finished her warning to him, “I can pilot this aircraft if need be, so you might want to be wary about how much you provoke me.”

“Again,” Bruce smirked up at her, his brows furrowed with a devious intention. “You’re only proving that I was right to bring you along.”

The wry smile she gave him in response lit up her face so completely, it truly felt like she was the yin to his yang when he thought about the meaning behind the type of grin he was showing her. Mockery versus honesty. Snide amusement compared to genuine delight. Whether they were at one another’s throats or in agreement, they always managed to play the roles of day and night - the perspective of optimism challenged by the darkness he seeped into every interaction. 

There was most definitely a delicate balance in their partnership.

If the familiar sounds of his dashboard blaring at him didn’t pull Bruce’s attention away from her in that moment, he had no idea how long they would have been gazing at one another. Tearing himself away from her, he spotted a handful of colors lighting up the right side of his weather radar, warning him of an upcoming storm. He flipped a switch inside of him and commanded her without hesitation, “Sit down, I have to deal with this.”

Diana didn’t answer him with words. He could only assume she obeyed him when she removed her hand from his shoulder and kept quiet. Presumably, she’d try to finally take that nap that their argument interrupted. Once he assumed she was out of his personal space, Bruce got to work and reclaimed control of the Flying Fox. He had flown through many storms in the past, to the point that his hands squeezed the sides of the yoke with mild excitement. 

Bruce wasn’t all too preoccupied with the thunderstorm that he was approaching, if the truth be told. He was more interested in the way that the sunlight that was grazing the darkness of the night that he was sailing through at sixty thousand feet. Considering the height he was at and distance they still had to travel, it wasn’t lost on him how ironic it was to see the daylight meet the night after the conversation they just had. 

[supernaturaloneshot]

Flash/Arrow/Supernatural Crossover

**I thought this would be a great idea, so I thought I would write it. This will include spoilers from season 13 of supernatural, sooo if you are not caught up, or don't want it spoiled, you may want to wait and read this. -Jamie **

It had been weeks since Mary Winchester had been missing along with Jack in the other dimension. Sam and Dean had been trying everything they could to figure out how to get to them. From what they could find, it took a spell that they found in the demon tablet. Cas was working on trying to get all the ingredients together and ready to do the spell.

"Dean, what if the spell doesn't work. What are we going to do then," Sam said as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed the scruff on his face.

"It's going to work, Sammy. Have a little faith," Dean said as he rolled his eyes and got up.

Dean went to go towards his room, when everything started shaking. He gripped on the table that was near him, and looked around. "Sam!"

Sam started walking to where Dean was. He gripping on the door frame. "Dean! Is this-"

"An earthquake? We don't get earthquakes! We get fricken' tornados!"

When the shaking finally stopped, Sam and Dean stood up straight and looked at each other, before walking outside of the bunker. When they opened the door, there was a light blue light that seemed to be surrounded by water.

Dean looked at Sam and shrugged his shoulders. "Lets check it out." Dean said as he jumped into it.

"Dean!" Sam said as he hesitated to follow his brother, but did so anyways. When Sam's feet landed on the ground, he looked over to Dean, "Dean! You can't just jump into strange things like that!"

Dean stood there looking around, not familiar to where he was. "What is this? Is this like another dimension?"

"I think it is," Sam said as he turned around and the portal had closed. Behind it was a sign to Starling City.

The night sky was lit up with the lights of the city. Dean went over to one of the cars that was parked on the side of the street. He wasn't so happy Baby wasn't here, but he had to do something. Dean unlocked the car, and got inside and started hot wiring the car. Sam came around the other side and got in the passenger seat. They headed into the city, looking for anything they could see. Suddenly there was a red blur that went by the car, causing it to shake.

"What the hell?" Dean questioned as he tried to follow the light, but it had disappeared.

"Dean, I don't know what is going on here, but something doesn't feel right about all of this."

"Look, we will find a hotel to stay in tonight, then tomorrow we will do some digging." Dean said as he glanced at Sam, then back on the road.

When they found a hotel, Dean parked at the end of the lot, and went to get a room. When they got to the room, they both just sat at the ends of the bed, and looked at each other.

"So, what, we just stay here?"

"Just for the night, Sammy. Or until we figure out what the hell is going on." Dean said as he leaned back against the headboard.

Suddenly, the door busted open, and a woman walked in, with long brown hair, in a black suit. Sam and Dean stood up suddenly, with guns in hand. The woman moved her hand in a swift motion, and suddenly their guns were across the room.

"What the hell?" Dean said.

"Traveler's from a different universe. How cute," she said as she slung Sam and Dean to the side of the room. When they hit the floor, the both of them groaned.

"Look lady, I don't know what your problem is, but we just want to go home," Dean said as he stood back up.

"To bad you won't be alive long enough to go back," she said as she raised her hand up and clutched her fist, making Sam and Dean's heart, feel as if they were being crushed.

Suddenly, an arrow came through, and struck the woman in the shoulder. Her hold on Sam and Dean was released, and she took off running. They fell back down on the floor, taking a breath.

A man in a dark green leather suit, came walking into the hotel room, with a bow in hand. "All y'all alright," he yelled out with a husky voice and extended his hand out.

Sam took his hand and stood, as Dean stood on his own. "Yeah, yeah we are fine. What the hell was that?"

"That sure as hell won't like any demon we've ever faced," Dean said as he looked at Sam.

"Demon? Where the hell are you from? That was a meta," the guy in the hood said.

"What is a meta," Sam questioned.

"You're obviously not from here. Come with me, and we will figure this out."

——————

When they got to the bunker, the elevator doors opened up into a large room, with green lighting, and a center stage area, where Felicity sat at her desk of computers.

"Okay great, you're back. Now, there is a-" Felicity paused as she stood in front of Oliver, and the two new comers. "Uh, Hi." Felicity looked at Oliver, "Are we just bringing home new people now?"

"Felicity, this is Sam and Dean Winchester. They are not from our earth," Oliver said as he went over to the stand that his bow sat on, and placed it down.

"Hi, I'm Dean. Felicity, thats a beautiful name," Dean said as he took Felicity's hand

Oliver cleared his throat and leaned on the table. "Yes, it is. Thats why I married her."

Sam chuckled as Dean raised his arms up. "Sorry about him, he, uh, he is immature sometimes."

"Anyways, I should call Barry. This is more of his thing anyways," Oliver said as he started pulling out his phone.

There was a sudden red blur once again, and a man appeared in the middle of the room, "No need, I was already in town." Sam and Dean, in shock, pulled their guns out and aimed at the guy that flashed by them. "Whoa, I'm a good guy," Barry said as he raised his hands up and took his mask off.

"How, how did you.." Sam stuttered.

"I'm a speedster. Was hit by lightening, got super fast speed, fastest man alive. You two never heard of me," Barry said as he crossed his arms.

"Barry, don't get offended. They aren't from this Earth."

"Hold on Robin Hood, what do you mean this Earth," Dean questioned.

"Okay so let me guess. That big blue swirling thing of water, was a portal to another earth," Sam said as Barry and Oliver nodded. Sam looked over at Dean. "Maybe one of those portals can get us to mom."

"Where's your mom," Felicity asked as she looked at both the brothers.

"Well, we were fighting Lucifer, and there was a portal to an apocalyptic world. Our plan was to trap Lucifer in this other place. But when we did so, he grabbed our mom and dragged her over there," Sam explained.

"Now we are just trying to find her."

"Lucifer?" Felicity chuckled, then realized they weren't laughing. "Wait, seriously? The king of hell?"

"Well, no. Technically a demon named Crowley was the king of hell."

"Now it's some other douche bag. Lucifer is just like a lost puppy. A lost, stupid, evil, asshole-ish puppy," Dean continued.

"Okay," Barry paused as he crossed his arms. "So you're trying to get to that earth where your mom and Luci the evil puppy are?"

"Exactly. Along with Jack, who is a nephilim," Sam said.

"A what?" Oliver, Barry, and Felicity all said in unison.

"Oh right, y'all don't know what anything about that. A nephilim is a human slash angel. Which happens to be Lucifer," Sam explained.

"Oh, Lucifer has a son. That's fantastic," Oliver said sarcastically.

"Well, he is actually a good guy," Dean said with a shrug. "Now, enough about that. What's up with the chick trying to kill us?"

"Some worlds have strict rules about crossing dimensions. She is a collector. She is going to want you dead now," Barry explained. "But we dealt with her before. We can talk to her, and convince her not to kill you."

"That's fantastic," Dean said frustrated.

"We need to get to Star Labs, and talk with the team."

Sam and Dean nodded, right before Barry grabbed on to them and started running towards Central City.

When they got to Star Labs, Barry stopped in the middle of the main room, and Sam and Dean stumbled to find their footing. Dean ran over to the nearest trash can and started throwing up.

"Next time, we can just drive," Dean yelled out before throwing up again.

Barry chuckled and looked at Caitlin and Cisco, who were sitting at the desk. "Sam, Dean, this is Caitlin, and Cisco. This is part of my team."

"Nice to meet you," Sam said as he shook their hands.

"Uh, Hi. Barry, didn't we just have a talk about letting strangers know your secret," Cisco asked as he raised his arms a bit.

"Cisco, they are not from our world. Somehow they came into our world and now Cynthia is after them."

"Oh yay. You're girlfriend is back," Caitlin said sarcastically as she sat back down.

"Okay, she is not my girlfriend. I wish, but not my girlfriend," Cisco said as he rolled his eyes.

"You can't blame him. She was hot," Dean said with a laugh and Sam hit him. "Dude!"

"Dude she tried to kill us! All because we came here!"

"Still hot," Dean shrugged.

Barry chucked and crossed his arms. "Well we gotta figure out how to get you guys back to your world before Cynthia comes back."

"Yeah she may be hot, but damn she is strong."

"Now, y'all said she is a meta? What is that," Sam questioned.

"Well, a couple years ago there was an explosion here that effected a lot of people in it's that," Cisco started.

"Like myself. That's why I have super fast speed. Because of the explosion and the lightening, i became fast as, you know, lightening," Barry smirked. "so where you come from, there's no metas, but there are demons? and Lucifer?"

"Yeah. It's literally hell," Dean sighed.

"We actually hunt any and every monster than goes bump in the night. Demons, shapeshifters, vampires, werewolves, angels, you name it."

"Thats cool," Cisco said excitingly.

"No. Thats not possible. All those things are just fairy tails," Caitlin said doubly.

"Yeah well, its real princess," Dean said.

Suddenly the ground started shaking again.

"What the hell is this," Barry yelled out.

"Are we having an earthquake," Cisco questioned, gripping on to the table.

"This is exactly what happened when the portal came to take us here. Maybe it's the one to take us back," Sam said as he started looking around.

Suddenly the portal began to appear on the security footage on Cisco's computer. "Well, it was nice meeting y'all but looks like that's our ride!" Dean said as he grabbed Sam and started running outside, with Barry, Cisco, and Caitlin behind them.

"Maybe we will meet again one day," Barry said when he caught up to Sam and Dean.

"Maybe," Sam said with a short smile as Dean and himself jumped into the portal. The portal closed shortly after.

"Monsters? Yeah right," Caitlin huffed and walked back inside with Cisco and Barry behind her.