#hes such a baby girl i cannot unsee it

[anakinstwinklebunny]

such a pretty crier, makes me want to shower his face in kisses and play with his hair

#anakin #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #star wars #HES SO CUTE #im sorry i know he suffers but i cant get it out of my head #darth vader #sweet ani <3 #hes such a baby girl i cannot unsee it #:haydennation #anakin skywalker fanfiction #dark!anakin #darth vader imagine

[fushic0re]

𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐓?

𝗗𝗔𝗗!𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝘅 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟖 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ in which you and satoru finally have some alone time…except baby gojo is vigilantly watching for santa’s arrival.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. SMUT; penetrative sex, trying to keep it quiet, getting caught. baby gojo being an especially cute cockblock. 

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

“TORU–” YOU PANT AGAINST YOUR HUSBAND’S EAR. 

Satoru grunts in response. His large hands tighten around the meat of your thighs, his fingers leaving an indentation against your skin from his grip. His hips move with more vigor, pounding into you wildly as he loses every piece of himself to pull of your velvety walls. Each thrust draws him deeper and deeper into your heat, a feeling he missed oh so much. While fatherhood was the biggest calling of his life and his proudest accomplishment, he definitely missed the spontaneous aspect of his relationship with you–quickies in places you most definitely should not be having sex in, watching you cook and deciding then and there to bend you over the kitchen counter to have his way with you, being late to commitments because he decided to spend an extra hour or two in bed with you, the whole nine yards. 

You were everything–a mother, the woman who birthed the first Gojo heir in years, an amazing sorcerer. But you were his girl before everything else. And now that your son was asleep after the sugar crash he had from too many cookies at the Christmas Eve party, it was prime time for him to remind you of just how much he loved you. 

“Hah…shit–” 

“Mama? Dada?” 

Time freezes for a moment as do you and Satoru, staring at each other as your bodies stiffen as if remaining oh so still will make your son unsee the sight before his innocent eyes. You quickly snap out of it, yanking the throw blanket hanging from the back of the couch and wrapping it around you both. To the innocent eye, it looks as if you and your husband were just having a cuddle. Satoru follows suit, lifting his blindfold off to stare at his son lovingly. 

“What’s up, little man? You should be sleeping that sugar rush off.” He chuckles, completely unphased by the fact that your son had just walked in on the both of you. 

The Gojo heir rubs his sleepy eyes with his small fists. 

“Is Santa here yet? Y-Yuuji said he would be here soon…” He mumbles, his little voice raspy. 

You look at Satoru with wide eyes for a moment before nervously laughing as you pull the blanket tighter around your bare forms. 

“No, baby. Santa doesn’t come until very, very late when all you babies are fast asleep. Go back to sleep, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure. 

Your son is just about to walk off when his eyes fully register what is in front of him. Under the impression that you have been fully caught, you slap your husband’s chest. 

“Do something.” You hiss. 

“I don’t know, babe, this is kinda funny–” 

“I told you too much sugar would mess with his sleep schedule! I told you!” 

“Okay, but how was I supposed to know Yuuji was going to get him all Santa-crazed–” 

“Because you are his dad! Dads know these things!”

“...You sayin’ I’m a DILF?” 

“A..Are you guys c-cuddling without m-me?” 

You and Satoru’s incessant bickering comes to a halt. Both of your hearts break at the sight of those big blue eyes welling up with tears, that pouty bottom lip trembling as he clutches his blanket for comfort. Just like that, your shared kryptonite had rendered you both fightless. When your son cried, angels cried for him. Satoru springs into action, pulling on his boxers and scooping your son up into his arms. You try your best to, but the ache and empty feeling in between your legs cannot be ignored. 

“I’m sorry, buddy. Your momma wanted daddy all for herself because she gets jealous.” Satoru dramatically wails, hugging your baby and rocking him in his arms. 

You gasp as you stare at him incredulously. Was he seriously throwing you under the bus? Turning you against your own son?

“Excuse me?!” 

“Come on, let daddy take you to bed for some snuggles aaaaaalll by yourself!” He cries out once more. 

With that, Satoru easily diverted the situation. He grins at you as he carries your baby boy back to bed, the latter falling asleep in the comfort of his arms as he does so.

“Bad mommy.” Your little one murmurs as his father descends down the hallway, leaving you floored. 

Satoru Gojo would receive one, and only one, gift that year….blue balls. And not in the form of ornaments. 

© all rights reserved to fushic0re — do not translate, repost, or plagiarize.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #dad!satoru gojo x reader #dad!gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo fluff

[lestappenforever]

I’m gonna have your back here. I love seeing how Max is so sweet around children and it’s beautiful that he has such a good relationship with P. /without/ trying to take the place of her father. He’s been as respectful as he could be regarding the father/daughter relationship she still rightfully have with her dad and I’ll forever cherish the fact that he has been so careful about it.

BUT. As much as I do find cute seeing P. hugging and kissing him as he is streaming, I still find very problematic to see kids constantly putted on social media. I censored a family friend’s kid that I was holding in a pic I sent /privately/ to a friend because I didn’t feel comfortable sharing their face without consent from the mother.

I get that most of the time the pic/video we get are from family gatherings/because P. suddenly get in frame as Max is streaming, and the goal is /not/ to show and parade her around as family vlogs do (it’s disgusting really how some people openly exploit their children like that) BUT still she cannot consent to have her face all over the internet.

Even if in the F1 fandom most of the comments are harmless (all kinda being about max being a positive figure for her or being such a girl “dad” and breaking the circle of violence is father started) there are still a lot of people online who WILL have inappropriate thoughts and reactions toward a /kid/.

I get that this sport has basically become a big media circus thanks (ironically) to DtS, but people still need to remember that drivers are athletes and they are allowed to have a private life, especially concerning their families and KIDS.

I myself am guilty to enjoy watching Charles holding a baby ever so kindly, cuz it makes my heart melt, but as much as I appreciate it in a pure way I DO KNOW that people are not all good hearted and without malice and I’d prefer to not see this things at all then bearing the guilt of giving pedo****s free content.

I am an adult and although I do understand the consequences of posting my face online I still sometimes feel disgusted if my mind lingers too long on what people might do with my pics.

Now imagine growing up and finding out your parents have posted your face everywhere without thinking about consequences and without your consent and you’ll never be able to delete those contents because what internet takes internet will never give back.

So yeah, ok, at least he didn’t show her face but should we really praise him for doing the f bare minimum to protect a child’s privacy? Maybe not.

Anon, this is so well put and I don't really have anything to add to this because you've hit the nail on the head here. And thank you so much for your support!

The only thing I will add is an example that has haunted me since it happened and will continue to haunt me forever: Not too long ago, David Beckham posted a picture on Instagram where his daughter is kissing him on the mouth. An innocent display of affection many children share with their parents. And the comments were flooded with people sexualizing it. I will never be able to unsee some of the comments I saw on that post. If that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about the fucked up people that lurk on social media and the absolute horror you can potentially subject your child to, then I don't know what does.

It really is true what you said, anon: What internet takes, internet will never give back. This is important for each and every person out there to remember and be mindful of, regardless of age. But it's especially important to remember that when content of children is being posted.

#Asks #Anon asks

[blluespirit]

EPISODE 7 LETS GOOO

Prev episode thoughts: Episodes 1-3 Episode 4 Episode 5 Episode 6

Good Stuff:

Okay but Jee and Zuko finally bonding only for their new friendship to be immediately used against him when Zhao tricks Jee into telling Zuko about his plans to take him to court for treason... it's so good and by good I mean tragic and heart-wrenching. Zuko and Jee besties so true

I love you, Yue. My baby girl.

Absolutely great that they let Yue break off the arranged marriage with Hahn. I'm so happy they let Yue have some agency in her own life - although it would have been nice to have that be on-screen? Give Yue a mini arc? Or maybe I'm wishful thinking. It's not like they have three episodes to cover this like they did in the original.

Okay, Yue being able to visit the spirit world in her dreams is quite cool, and Sokka and Yue’s talk in Kuruk’s shrine was very sweet

love seeing Sokka defend his sister against Pakku and his misogyny 😌😌 that's a really nice change to see the siblings rallying together.

I'm happy they changed Pakku changing his mind from seeing Kanna's betrothal necklace to him changing his mind because all the other waterbenders marvel at Katara's skill. Feels less like a cop out.

Cool to see more Kuruk as well!!!

Katara and Pakku fight was fine - not as good as the og. I rewatched both fights like three times before writing this lol.

things that could be better:

Aang: I had a vision! you're in danger. arnook: yea i know :) very pointless thing to have them just know. What was the point then. why can't character Not Know Things

I... am not sure if I'm convinced if having Azula be introduced this early is a good move. I feel like most of her personality from the original series is not here at all. I don't see that ruthless, and calculating edge to her. She is far more on edge and angry, and way more emotional. I miss og Azula who's intro was: Maybe you should worry less about the tides, who've already made up their mind about killing you, and more about me, who's still mulling it over. Where is she?!

What is the point of Ty Lee and Azula being here at all in this point in the story.

Katara does not have anywhere NEAR the passion that she has in the original. The Katara I know is the one who refuses to apologise to Pakku after he talks down to her and challenges him to fight right then and there, knowing she'll lose, but not caring because fuck that guy. She knows she's a warrior, and she's not going to let some crusty old man get in her way. She goads him into fighting her by playing on his own misogyny - I'll be outside if you're man enough to fight me! We just didn't get to see any of that so far. They cut out so many iconic Katara moments - which I understand with the limited time - but they've failed to make up for it. Where's the Katara who single-handedly rallies together all the Earthbenders on the ship/prison to unite against the Fire Nation?? Where is the girl who refuses to let anyone walk over her? Who is reckless and compassionate???

Overall, I enjoyed this episode despite my bitching lol. Most of the things I didn't like are issues that spread across every episode that I was hoping would make sense but now I cannot unsee. But this episode itself is enjoyable!

#zuko #katara #sokka #azula #aang #zhao #iroh #avatar: the last airbender #natla #netflix avatar #jack talks #live action series

[renee-writer]

Baby Girl Chapter 37

AO3

She frees up when she steps out of the car. They are parked behind her own. In the dawn light, she sees the evidence of CSU, the dusting left by a fingerprint search, a marker where her keys were found. Her breathing becomes shallow. She reaches out, finding Uncle Lamb ‘s hand.

 

“Come, let’s  get you inside.” She takes the walk she meant to take days ago. How many days? She tries to figure it out in her head, but can’t . Wait is wrong with her? He opens her door, the sight of her keys in his hand is comforting. The good guys are back in charge.

 

Just entering her flat brings some peace. She has never been in here. “She never got this far.” She whispers aloud.

 

“Nor shall she.” Her uncle stands firm, his eyes, slightly darker than her own, full of fiery determination . “Shall I make breakfast?”

 

She smiles and leans against him. “Thank you but I am knackered. I am just going up to bed.”

 

“I will be here, keeping my post.” She hugs him.

 

“Thank you, my darling. I love you.”

 

“I love you.”

 

She pulls her clothes off, debating about burning them or giving them a wash. After how many days, she still can’t recall, of fear sweat soaking them, burning may be the best thing. She needs a shower, badly, but simply doesn’t have the energy. When she wakes up, she promises herself. Pulling a soft gown on, she climbs into bed and is asleep immediately.

 

Darkness, quiet, interrupted by a laugh. Sinister. A voice. “will kill you right in front of him.” The laugh again. She cannot move, held down by bonds. A struggle. She tries to scream. And again.

 

He takes the stairs two at a time. Throwing the door open, ready for battle, he finds his niece, wrapped up in the bed covers, her eyes wide open, but unseeing, the desperate scream still fills the room.

 

“Claire bear, it is okay. You are home and safe.” She thrashes about, “she’s going to kill me!” now more breathed then screamed. He gets her untangled. “No, she is in hospital and you’re home.” After getting the last limb free, he holds her and rocks her. She wakes.

 

“Uncle Lamb?”

 

“Eh, it was just a dream.”

 

She shakes her head against his chest. “No, she was really going to kill me. She told me so.”

 

“She shan’t get near you again.” His voice hardens to steel. “I swear it.”

 

She rests against him, shaken as the last of the adrenaline runs out. “I need a wash up.”  She doesn’t know how long she slept but knows it is over for now. He helps her to her feet and she gathers clean clothes. More fear sweat coats her gown. She then steps into the bathroom. He soon hears the water running.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #baby girl #chapter 37 #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom #modern au

[shadesofnavy]

This here →#baby girl show us your man pecs pls← is currently a favorite for me. Thank you for blessing me with this. It's amazing lol.

Also Keith totally tries asking Pico this. Totally.

Ok tbh I read it in Keith's voice and can't unsee him saying it now. It just seems like a thing he'd say lol.

You're welcome~ and you're not half wrong there lol

To add to your image, Pico aims his mac-10 at Keith after he's called baby girl. He's both pissed off and flustered af. His little pride and dignity cannot take any more damage

#he wouldnt actually shoot he's just angy #pico dankworth #keith burlington #asks

[jomiddlemarch]

Bingo!

“Sex pollen, Nina? Seriously? Isn’t that like ancient? Like from Kirk/Spock-slash-in-mimeographed-zines era old?” Alina asked, holding the bingo card in a pincer grasp to indicate her general skeeved-out-ness. Nina gave her a grin that was usually reserved for waffles and post-ski-post-sauna-Matthias, which Alina unfortunately knew after agreeing to share a ski-in-ski-out house when they were college sophomores because they were friends and roommates and Nina offered to pay Alina’s share of the rent in exchange for Alina making a double-batch of snickerdoodles. Inej took a big gulp of her White Russian and Zoya laughed.

“There’s a lot to be said for a classic, baby girl,” Zoya said, tapping her own card. “I’m personally more offended by the utter disrespect for Dune and the Bene Gesserit with the gom jabbar reference and also because the potential need for a tetanus shot is just not doing it for me.”

“I don’t even know what A/B/O is. It’s not blood types and vampires, is it?” Inej asked. “It doesn’t seem like a good idea to ask the interwebs. There might be stuff I couldn’t even unsee.”

“Yeah, it’s not blood types,” Nina said. “And you would probably need a dose of Versed if you Googled—”

“This is your weirdest bingo game ever, Nina,” Alina said. ��Honeymooners is right on the same card as breathplay and tentacles—”

“Sun or shadow tentacles,” Nina interrupted.

“Tentacles are tentacles, Nina,” Zoya said.

“I thought we were going to play fuck-marry-kill for a while and then watch something terrible and delicious from the 80s like Lace,” Alina said. “I cannot even imagine what you told Matthias about tonight.”

“I didn’t tell him anything, just that you were all coming over and we were hanging out,” Nina said. “He might have maybe seen an open tab or two on my phone while I was making the bingo cards and turned a little green around the gills…”

“That’s why he agreed to work a double, isn’t it?” Inej said. “I could have swapped with Tamar, you know.”

“My advice is, never explain what Dead dove: do not eat means to him, especially the way you probably would, with a million examples,” Gen said. “He’ll go back to divinity school in a heartbeat and then where will you be?”

“I knew I left off priest!sex!” Nina exclaimed. “Fleabag really put that one back on the map, bless Phoebe Waller-Bridge.”

“Amen,” Zoya said, joined by Alina and Gen, Inej nodding along. Whatever they might disagree about, the glory that was Andrew Scott united them all in a moment of lustful appreciation. Then Alina’s phone buzzed and she looked down at it.

“C’mon, you said, you promised you weren’t going to be all lovey-dovey, joined-at-the-hip about Sasha tonight, not that it isn’t sweet, but I didn’t pick up a case of insulin with the vodka,” Nina complained mildly. Alina made a big show of turning off the phone and jamming it into her purse.

“Fine, fine. He was just telling me he won his Ebay auction, for those vintage amplifiers,” Alina said.

“That means you got the townhouse downcity, with the extra bedroom,” Inej said. “If you have space for those—"

“Yeah,” Alina smiled. “I wasn’t going to talk about it tonight because real estate gets so boring, but yeah. We got it, we close in six weeks.”

“That’s better than winning any sex-positive fanfic bingo card in the world, no offense, Nina,” Gen said.

“None taken,” Nina said. “I’ll let you in on a secret. I managed to get Lace and Lace II on Blu-ray, so we can ditch the bingo cards and settle in for some peak trashy TV.”

#shadow and bone #humor #darklina #darklina server bingo event #how to use up bingo squares I can't begin to write #my 16 yo son actually advised me to write this fic #just make them actually on a bingo card #fangirl mom #family fanfic consultation #references to pop culture abound #shout out to fleabag #ladies night in #helnik #zoya #genya #inej #lace

[missmaxime]

Pool Scene Analysis

Ah, yes. The already famous pool scene! I’ve rewatched it too, and I can only say that I still love it as much as I did on first watch – but I understand how people can have mixed feelings about it. Overall this episode is a lot about parallels, as we could see with flashbacks and the now of Beth and Dean. And the pool scene is part of a sets of parallels when I look at it: Two parallels: - Pool Scene vs past Beth/Rio scenes. [Most notably the bathroom Break in 2x04 – yes with pictures included, I’m not a monster] - Beth/Rio vs Beth/Fitzpatrick vs Beth/Dean (I was going to break it into those two parallels, but I decided to go chronologically, it makes more sense) Dean + Beth So, what happens just before? Dean just figuratively threw the door in Beth’s face, because he learned that he isn’t just in jail because of Beth. He now knows that Rio was a part of this scheme since the very beginning. From the past seasons we know that Dean doesn’t have that much of a problem with the whole crime aspect, he bribes the doctor himself when he fakes the cancer, hires the baby hitmen to off Rio, and handles the books at Boland Motors (Beth asks Dean where the books are, when Turner is about to raid them). Dean’s problem is not with crime, it’s with Rio. Beth + Rio / Pool Scene Beth drops by Rio at his (empty) bar, and tells him she needs a loan. Now, she’s never been shy to ask for money or time or jobs with Rio, but in a way most of those times were directly of indirectly beneficial to Rio in the end. There’s obviously times he refused, like when she wanted him to participate in the Botox scheme in 1x08 – because that was an instance where it once benefited her. And, like now, law enforcement is on them. And we know Rio ain’t doing any time because some bitches need their pocket money.

It’s the episode Ruby and Annie called Beth out for not NOT wanting to do crime – hell, how she’s crawling out of her skin living ‘the normal life’. In the same episode Rio tells her she’s not going to be any kind of boss until she gets her house in order, while both her business and her actual house in 4x03 are in shambles again. In 1x08 Ruby also learns that Eddie is talking to the feds, putting the girls up for an important decision: Who’s going to be the fall guy, Eddie or them? It’s not going to be them. Back to pool. Beth tells him it’s for bail, but Rio immediately nah’s her. She needs a fall guy if she ever wants to make money again. Which is what Rio did to Beth before 4x04, he left all the fake money in her name. Presumably so he could go and make a fresh start for himself. But when she prove her worth again he took it all away. Beth tells Rio that at ‘it’s not his fault’. But Rio reminds her that he told her to be smart:

Which is what he told her when he send her to watch Lucy, someone else who got spiraled into crime due to Beth’s scheme. Another innocent who took a fall for her, albeit it not directly her doing. Dean’s arrest, by also not letting him in on the crime, but who she set up form the beginning by putting both the store and accounts on his name – is her doing. As much as she might not want to see that.

“Look they’ll cut a deal. Three years, club Fed.” Beth jumps on how it’ll affect her kids and her, but ignores the thing I’m latching on to: That Rio assumes Dean will cut a deal with the Secret Service. But that would mean Dean can offer them something in exchange for him to cut years of his sentence. And we already know that Dean knows nothing about how the business works – Phoebe knows by now that Dean knows nothing about how the business works, because she found Beth’s handwritten instructions herself – so the only substantial thing Dean has to offer is Beth. I’m not entirely sure Beth’s talking crime implications, or personal when she asks ‘What about me?’ but Rio is very keen to focus entirely on the marriage part. Telling her that ‘her boy’ will come out in better shape than when he went in. ‘Maybe she’ll even wanna hit that again’. Beth’s briefly looking at him with a look of ‘I can’t believe you brought that up’, but barrels forward with a ‘There’s gotta be a way to get him out’.

This moment parallels with the first non-flashback scene we see, of Beth and Dean, that I talked about before. Dean’s issues with Beth’s crime life are with Rio. And Rio’s throwing it out there that can’t grasp why she has such an issue with Dean talking the fall. He might not know everything about their marriage, but he knows it’s broken enough for her to have sex with him, for her to get into crime and choosing to stay, and to even set him up and keep him in the dark for Boland Bubbles. Hell, the first time they fucked her husband was sitting three feet away waiting for the bill, and the second time was in her marital bed. But I’ll get back to that.

Rio throws back that if you ‘Do the crime, you do the time.’ To which this piece of convo follows:

In 2x13 (and please lets not get into discourse how poorly this was built up) Rio made sure everything was on Beth, even oopsing the dead body buried under her lawn to Turner as a cherry on top of all the funny money and the dealership. Rio knows he needs a fall guy – and in 2x13 it was Beth – she could make it all go away if she murdered Turner.

Rio talks about how he got luck on his side. Surviving the shooting could be considered lucky, and the opportunity it gave him to wipe the streets from his competition gave him more space and opportunity to built something up after he organized the drive by on Turner. But he also say ‘Maybe you do to.’ Which could indicate their immediate game, but I’m thinking it might be more. I think this might be a reference to Rio’s mystery boss we have yet to meet. When you think about it, Turner took a lot of people down probably in the span of like two months, and Rio was AWOL for all that time – he’d be the first one people look at to be a snitch. Yet he remains unscathed for the whole of season three up ‘til now, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he had some wort of protection. And perhaps he’s offering Beth to be in on that too. Speaking of 2x04’s bathroom break, hello bail deal! We all know there some more ambiguity surrounding this scene, but all choreography of this scene seems so deliberately close to 2x04 I cannot unsee. Look:

Beth seals the deal back in the bar, and Rio allows her to take it from his cut she still owes him. That is, obviously, not what she was looking for. But who’s surprised, really? In 1x08 he was shut down, not taking on new business and not continuing the running ones. He even stole all Beth’s money – she could have known that everybody still feels the pain.

Once again Beth will have to solve things herself, but Rio can’t help but look at her as she storms out. Beth + Fitzpatrick I already touched on the 2x13 parallel from when Beth says that nothing ever sticks on Rio, but there’s more callback in this scene as well. Beth now has been turned down by Dean from even talking to her, and by Rio from help with money for bail. She’s kind of fed up at this point, and at the end of her rope. And now this infatuated dick who refuses to do the job she hired him fore is lounging in her kitchen like her owes the place – owes her.

Beth has a tendency to copy Rio when she really needs something, but also doesn’t really know how to get it – like when she and the girls went into the crack house to retrieve the Dubby. I can’t say I’m surprised she explodes her, changing her tactic to ‘giving him what he wants’. Like the crack house this could have ended horribly, but fortunately it works (well, for now, we don’t know yet how this is going to play out). But Beth’s visibly weighted by the choice she just made to handle this – even if it worked. So that’s folks! What do you guys think? Did you notice a parallel I missed?

#gg analysis #nbc good girls #4x03 #beth x rio #pool scene #i wanted to do all the 2x04/4x03 scenes side by side #BUT FOR SOME REASON #tumblr refuses to do as I say #mobile desktop anything #woe is us it's bigger pictures

[spencers-dria]

Modern day high school AU where the team is always snapchatting each other. Spencer accidentally sends a nude to the group chat and they all tease the heck out of him, trying to find out who the nude was for. Who was it for, Spencer? Who?

Pennicorn🦄

Hi hi hi friends! What’s everyone up to on the beautiful Saturday? Anyone up for hanging out?

Baller🏀

Always baby girl! Whatchu got in mind, mama?

Aaron

Homework. Due on Monday. So that’s a no from me. ✋🏻

LdzLuvEm💄

No way in hell I’m third wheeling with the horn-dogs... JJ?

JJ💕

Awww sorry guys! I’m out of town visiting family with my parents. Let me know ahead of time next time you want to make plans and I’m totally there!

Pennicorn🦄

That completely defeats the fun of spur the moment plans! Hey Em! Maybe Spencer will come with! You know he’s finished with homework for like...well as far ahead as they’ll give it to him. 🤣

LdzLuvEm💄

That’s true... what do you think Spence?

Spence?

Spencer?

Boy wonder?

Me

⭕️ Opened by everyone

Baller🏀

Hey um, Reid. You wanna explain why you sent us... I mean what the hell man!

Pennicorn🦄

Oh my gosh! Ew! No No no! Cannot unsee!

I don’t mean ew rudely I just mean... it’s nothing personal Spencer! Just wasn’t planning on seeing your um...

LdzLuvEm💄

Is anyone gonna bring it up?

Surely I’m not the only one thinking it

Alright I’ll say it

Spence is packing

Baller🏀

Didn’t see that coming

Congrats pretty boy

Who’s the lucky lady???

Pennicorn🦄

Oooo I didn’t even think about who it was meant for

Tell us!!!!

Please 🥺

JJ💕

You guys what the heck are you blowing up my phone about geez!

Oh my...um

I didn’t see anything

Ok that’s a lie

Me

*Spencer has moved to Alaska*

JJ💕

Aww no Spence it’s okay

Don’t be embarrassed!

Pennicorn🦄

Yeah we’re so sorry! You have a totally lovely... member

We’ll drop it! Just don’t leave the chat!

We love you!

Me

Ok fine... what were y’all wanting to do today?

LdzLuvEm💄

I heard there’s a great new true crime documentary at the theater!

Baller🏀

Sounds good to me

Ok yeah I can’t do this... I gotta know

Who was it for???

Me

😒🙄😐😑

Fine

Only because I know you’ll never let it go

Y/N

Baller🏀

Get it!!

LdzLuvEm💄

Do they ever send any back?

Me

Em!!!

LdzLuvEm💄

Sorry 😂🙈

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer x reader #high school au #SNAPCHAT #bau

[shinymooncolor]

For my fellow Sweater Weather fans ❤️ @lumosinlove - thank you!

Kudos to @frombeauxbatons for helping me with Finnish.

@wxlfstxrx and @siriuslyqueer love youuu 💕

Sweater weather chats #10

The team goes to Vegas. Kris gets a new phone. Olli speaks Finnish. Remus and Sirius are in their honeymoon phase. The team dads ship it. Kasey gets cuddles. Logan gets lost. Leo is mad. Everyone bets on Sergei. Dumo is not a fan of Russian cheering during sex. Will we ever find out about Prague?

Wednesday 9.22 pm

Eliascookie: eyyy fucking love wifi in the air. 🤪

Dumodad: shhh someone is trying to nap and you guys are loud 🥴

Logantremblayzzz: sorry grandpa. Not all of us are old and cranky.

Sergei_81: careful I fight people for you

CarbO’Hara: and we love you dearly for that. But no denying you and dumo are old and cranky. You could literally both be Leo’s dads

Ollibear: he looks more like sunny and sergei’s baby than dumo’s

Blizzard: ohhh a love triangle 🙊😳

Sunnysideup: as much as I love sergei, I wouldn’t get between him and dumo. They’re the bromance of our gen :) also not my type

Kaneyoudigit: yeah. Where does that butt slap come from anyways? Even when one of them is out or injured they find time for that 👻

Bradygunz: I don’t think anyone understands it... where does it come from? Something about Prague - Allison was super cagey about it.

Dumodad: shhhh let us sleep. Night boys. Got another few hours and practice tomorrow is not optional. Sleep.

Nadotheman: VEGAS BABY

Krisvolley: practice and a game Nado.

RussianGod: DONT be boring krissy

——

Friday 12.33 pm

Remus created a group chat

Remus added Dumo, Sirius, Sergei, Sunny and Krissy

Remus named group chat HELP

Remus: okay boys. Sorry for this but I’m a little worried. We’re in Vegas and with a whole day of no games and only practice tomorrow once we touch down in LA, I can’t keep an eye on the entire team.

Dumo: haha dont worry go have a nice date with cap. God knows he’s cranky enough that you were away for that course for three days.

Sunny: don’t worry I sleep with ear plugs anyways 😜

Remus: hey we have separate rooms!

Krissy: wE hAvE sEpErAtE rOoMs....... it’s ok remmy 😉 cap plays better after you do whatever it is you do.

Sirius: alright stop. I wasn’t cranky. And leave Remus alone. You’re supposed to be the mature ones. Also Krissy?

Krissy: yes. I got a new iPhone and made the mistake of asking timmers and Olli to help me set it up on the plane. Now I can’t get it to change back. They set it to Finnish. Have no fucking clue and haven’t managed to get hold of Olli yet. 😳😳😳😳

Sergei: cap and re go enjoy honeymoon we take care of babies

Sunny: 😜😜😜😜😜 enjoy it while it lasts. Before you know it’s chores, babies and using alone time to catch up on sleep

Dumo: yeah. Don’t take your blissful kid free life for granted. 😈

Krissy: didn’t Logan and the other two walk in on your guys doing it in the kitchen last month?

Dumo: so?

Sergei: haha just kitchen? I’ve caught them worse. Is ok. You understand when you have babies. 😆

Krissy: I have a baby. I’m just single 😫😫😫

Sunny: want us to find a girl for you?🤓

Krissy: no thank you. Leave my sex life alone.

Sergei: u even have one?

Krissy left the group chat

Dumo added krissy to the group chat

Dumo: Sergei is sorry......... also he walked in on us maybe 5 times calm down. There’s nothing like Russian cheering to kill a mood....

Sunny: 5? That can’t be right. You were bunnies when she was pregnant last. I saw things I cannot unsee 🤯🤯🤯

Sirius left the group chat

Remus: you broke Sirius. Anyways I’ll leave the babysitting to you guys then.

Sunny: HAVE FUN REMUS 🥳🥳

——

Friday 2.54 pm

Logantremblayzzz: guys I’m lost. I’ve been walking towards that big pointy thing and the map from the hotel is crap and I got away from finn and he’s not picking up

*picture of map*

Blizzard: Logan.

Blizzard: THATS A MAP OF PITTSBURGH. WE’RE IN VEGAS. ALSO ITS UPSIDE DOWN.

Blizzard: how the fuck have you lived to see 23? 😆

Logantremblayzzz: oh. That makes more sense. 🙈🙈🙈

Newt-leo: what do you mean you lost Finn? Are you both lost somewhere in Vegas? Just use your phone and get back to the hotel...

Blizzard: Finn left his phone here in the room😂😂😂 better send out a search party

Logantremblayzzz: well I don’t know what happened. I can’t find him now. 😭

LeWilliam: There’s literally one strip of road in Vegas and you’ve gotten lost. 🐸

Dumodad: I swear to the fucking hockey gods we were never this stupid. Idiots. Get back here for 5, and we can go have a team dinner for those who want. Sergei is buying

Evanderbell: ohh @tylerthemighty and I are in!! Thanks @sergei_81!!!

Sunnysideup: he’s sleeping? Hahahah he’s gonna be unhappyyyy 😂

RussianGod: hehe thanks we’re play too...

Nadotheman: he means game. But yeah. Free dinner 😎

Prongstar: I think this one @logantremblayzzz has to go into the promo videos hahahahah 😂😂😂 I’m telling Marlene.... 😘

Ollibear: is anyone looking for Finn?

Newt-leo: yeah me and @krisvolley are going out now

——-

Friday 3.44 pm

CarbO’Hara: THANKS FOR DITCHING ME LOGAN

Logantremblayzzz: I was lost too! Not my fault you wander about

CarbO’Hara: I was talking to a puppy and when I got back up you were gone 😔 didn’t have my phone. Had to ask two Cher’s and an Elvis how to get back. 😫

Newt-leo: you’re back at the hotel now?

CarbO’Hara: yes. Forgot my phone.

Newt-leo: WELL THATS FUCKING GREAT. 😡

Walkietalkie: uhhh someone is in the dog house 😂😂😂

Nadotheman: bad fish... no goalie love for youuu

Blizzard: I can cuddle ya Finn. No worries. 😘😫😘

Logantremblayzzz: you’re not cuddling Finn. Go cuddle Nado if you need to.

RussianGod: come on blizzard. We do goalie sandwich 🥪🥪🥪🥪

Blizzard: gimme five minutes boysss 😍

Krisvolley: we’re heading back now. You’re paying for our cab Finn. Leo is really mad 😉

Friday 3.52 pm

Timmyforrealz: awww 😍

*nado and Kuny cuddling blizzard in a goalie sandwich*

Ollibear: there’s a lot of bromance in my room right now. 😂

Walkietalkie: at least they’re fully clothed. 🤞🏻

——

Friday 6.33 pm

Sergei_81: IM NOT PAYING FOR YOU All

Dumodad: yes you are. It’s your turn. 😘

Sunnysideup: u know it. It’s the deal. Shouldn’t bet if you can’t pay up.

Sergei_81: is thanks I get for fighting for you all.

Sirius: you keep bringing that up. But you love fighting for us. We love you for it 😜

Dumodad: haha cap’s got a point my friend. And you’re a glorious fighter. Haha your punches are feared through the league. Even the linesmen try to avoid getting between you and your victim

Nadotheman: you know there’s a bet in the league? First rookie to take you down gets a Rolex from a draw? Everyone chips in at draft? 😜

RussianGod: is true hehehe I put money in on never so I want watch

KrisVolley: was that an option? 😳 how did I not think of this

RussianGod: I’m smart just not in English. English stupid. Russian best 🥳

—-

Friday 9.33 pm

Ollibear: Mä oon niin ilonen mut mulla on ikävä kotiin. Mulla on ikävä muumeja.

Ollibear: Ja mun äitiä.

Ollibear: Tykkään myös tosi paljon pannukakuista.

Prongstar: Olli.exe stopped working…….

Sunnysideup: eh anyone’s got an eye on Olli? He’s defaulted to Finnish… 🙊🙊🙊

Dumodad: @timmyforrealzzz @nadotheman @russiangod

Dumodad: WHAT DID YOU IDIOTS DO NOW

KrisVolley: hahahaha Olli just had some shots. The waitress was making googly eyes at him and I guess he couldn’t say no 😆

Timmyforrealz: I think we should get him back to the hotel 😁😁😁

Nadotheman: not it!!!!

RussianGod: I got him. He dont walk

——-

“Kuny, he can’t even walk”

“I’m got him. He very drunk. Hehe not hold liquor well for Finn. Is embarrassing” Kuny snorted and hoisted his teammate more firmly over his shoulder.

“He owes me $100 for bribing the driver to take us”

“Sä oot hyvä venäläinen. Et ilkee venäläinen. Tunnen pahoja ja ilkeitä venäläisiä.”

“Any idea what he’s saying?”

“Not sure is even Finnish. Sound like just words”

#lumosinlove #sweaterweather #sweaterweatherchats #lumosinlove ocs #sweaterweatherchatsnr10

[monikafilefan]

seven years

This is an answer to a couple different anon prompts from a long time ago mixed together. One with Maggie finding Scully’s journal and seeing what she’d written to Mulder. The other prompt was for Mulder to spend a lot of time at Scully’s place after “all things.”  

tagging @today-in-fic 

*

Margaret Scully considers herself to be a great many things in life. She’s a conservative woman of God who has quietly voted democrat since the day she said “I do.” A loyal navy wife who has worked her slender fingers to the bone as a stay-at-home mother of four; a stickler for rules who occupies her time spent alone with a well-kept home; a grandmother who loves to spoil her grandbabies with cookies before dinner and always reads “just one last story, Grandma” at bedtime.

She also considers herself an excellent judge of character and has learned over the years when not to pry in the private lives of others without invitation. Though she cannot say she has never let curiosity take over and wishes her children would invite her in to visit those hidden recesses of their minds once in a while.

But blind is one thing she is not.

Arriving at Dana’s for a quiet Mother’s Day brunch after church today has only confirmed her long-lasting suspicions of the current relationship status between her daughter and Fox Mulder. One look at Dana’s flushed cheeks and swooning smile as she utters her partner’s name across the kitchen table would have been enough to satisfy Maggie’s curiosity about whether or not her daughter has finally embraced what lay within her heart.

Yet, there is much more to be seen here than a meaningful smile and pink cheeks.

And Maggie sees plenty.

A pair of men’s running shoes - size twelve - sit snugly by her daughter’s size sevens. A large leather jacket that smells of familiar cologne is slung over the coat rack by the door, only partially hidden by the sweater she’d gifted Dana four months ago on her first birthday of the new Millenium. There are two mismatched mugs resting next to the coffee maker, two toothbrushes inside a cup in the bathroom - bristles touching in comfortable ease - and two towels hanging dry over the shower door. The entire bathroom smells of men’s body wash.

A new development seven years in the making.  

Maggie dries her hands at the sink and shuts the bathroom door, smiling warmly as she goes.

“You need help cleaning up, Dana?”

“No.” She shakes her head and turns the water off in the kitchen sink, soap bubbles rising above the dirty plates as she wiggles her rubber-gloved fingers. “I’ve got it, Mom, today’s your day. Why don’t you take a seat in the living room? I’ll make us some tea and we can talk.”

It’s her day, too, Maggie thinks, but will never say. There will always be an ache in her heart at the thought of her child unable to raise one of her own, yet her pain is one she soothes regiously on her knees come Sunday morning.

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m fine.”

Maggie eyes the paired coffee mugs once again and taps each one with her manicured nail, giving her daughter a chance to open up if she so chooses.

“Do these need to be washed, too?” she asks, knowing good and well that they do not.

Dana’s blue eyes widen as they flick to Maggie’s but replies with a casually dismissive, “No. I cleaned them this morning,” before resuming her scrubbing. This time, Dana does so with a renewed flush and a bitten lip.

“That’s good, honey,” Maggie says with a reassuring squeeze to her daughter’s shoulder, but cannot resist adding, “It’s good to spend mornings with those you care about,” as she turns to leave her with her thoughts.

As Dana finishes with the dishes, Maggie allows herself to admire the intimate details of her daughter’s home - now that she knows for certain with whom she’s been sharing so much of it lately. Her slender fingers trail along the bookshelf, scanning the titles of anatomy books, several science journals in which Special Agent Dana K. Scully, MD has been published, and some classic novels she recalls her freckled nose being buried in over the years. All are in alphabetical order. So very Dana.

She chuckles and her eyes catch on a leather book that is not neatly tucked in line with the rest. It’s black with golden letters etched on the cover that simply says “Journal.”

Curious, Maggie holds the journal close and contemplates on whether she should peek, selfishly hoping that more than just the surface-level emotion her daughter allows her to see might reveal itself.

Yet, the thought of betraying Dana’s trust unnerves her. Her daughter trusts so few these days.

As she firmly decides to return such private thoughts to where she found them, she notices a piece of yellow paper slipping out of its back pages. Maggie quickly tries to nab the square bookmark so Dana wouldn’t lose her page due to her mother’s intrusion when the spine flips wide open, fanning out words of heartache her eyes simply cannot unsee.

And every word is intended for someone else.

To whom it may concern,

To my family,

Dear Mulder,

I feel time like a heartbeat, the seconds pumping in my breast like a reckoning. The luminous mysteries that once seemed so distant and unreal, threatening clarity in the presence of a truth entertained not in youth, but only in its passage. I feel these words as their meaning were weight being lifted from me, knowing that you’ll read it and share my burden, as I have come to trust no other…

“Oh, Dana,” Maggie exhales through her fingertips, hesitantly scanning the pages scrawled in intimacy with watery eyes.

...Mulder, if the darkness should have swallowed me as you read this, you must never think there was the possibility of some secret intervention, something you might have done. And though we’ve traveled far together this last distance must necessarily be traveled alone...

Months spent watching helplessly as the bright light of life burning within her daughter slowly faded more and more each day was the hardest thing she as a mother had borne. Watching and waiting for what many thought was the inevitable is something she would never wish upon anyone. And here she is, sneakingly seeking some sort of deeper understanding of what her baby girl has endured.

...Mulder, I feel you close though I know you are pursuing your own path. For that I am grateful, more than I could ever express. I need to know you’re out there if I am ever to see through this...

Maggie sighs and swipes at a tear hovering along her lashes, hands shaking as she adjusts the book to replace it, when the piece of paper floats to the floor.

Bending down to retrieve it, the journal pages flutter open across her lap to another time in Dana’s life. Maggie’s chin quivers at the words displayed before her.

Dear Mulder,

There was a time in the not so distant past when I told you I was throwing this journal out. That I chose to leave my moments of weakness in the past. But the time has come to admit to myself that losing my only child, my daughter that was never meant to be with you by my side, only confirms that the ache of what lies within my heart is meant for you to bear along with me. That this time, the distance must necessarily be traveled together…

Maggie gasps at the strength and conviction laced within her daughter’s words. The raw heartache Dana must still feel after burying a piece of herself is a familiar one Maggie does not have the strength to re-expose.

But her baby has not experienced it alone; she’s had her partner, and that has been enough.

Her eyes burn and a hot tear rolls down the swell of her cheek, splashing onto the next page before she can stop it. Pinching the tear-stained paper between her thumb and index finger, she waves it through air in hopes of drying the smeared ink before she shuts the book. As she does, Maggie turns the page fully and sees a single sentence hastily written over and over with what she recognizes as fierce emotion pouring from her child’s fingertips.

Dear Mulder,

Personal interest is all that I have. Personal interest is all that I have... Personal interest: it’s something I’ll always have, even if I should not.

“Oh, goodness.” She should not be reading any of this. If Dana wants her to know what secrets lie in her heart, she will tell her.

Maggie picks up the yellow paper next to her feet and immediately realizes it’s more than merely just a bookmark. It’s a note addressed to “Scully” that’s written in fresh ink and time stamped for today’s date.

I never imagined you’d invite me to see your private thoughts you’ve kept so well guarded over the years. I’m truly grateful; for your loyalty, your trust… for you, Scully. More than words can ever express.

Sniffling and riddled with guilt, Maggie slips the note meant for her daughter to read in private back behind the journal’s last written entry. This time, Dana’s greeting to the man she’s clearly been loving from afar for years is a very different one.

To my constant, my touchstone...

Maggie quickly shuts the book and stands, heart racing at her lack of self-control as she places the leather bound memento back on the shelf.

She has known for years that her daughter loves her partner a great deal, and that he loves her just as fiercely in return. She’s not an oblivious woman and never has been.

No, she thinks, as her eyes scan the room once again to land on a lone photo of Dana and Fox standing close together at a crime scene, staring into one another’s eyes, blind she is certainly not.

“Mom, I have tea brewing if…” Dana enters the room and stops a foot away as she takes in the likely overwhelming expression on her mother’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Maggie swallows a lump in her throat and smiles softly at her daughter across the room. Suddenly she sees the tomboy with wild red hair and dirty knees; then the teenage girl with freckles and braces kissing a boy on their front porch. She sees a proud Dana graduating with honors and jumping head first into med school, only to be eagerly recruited by the FBI. She then sees that pride and determination focus on a quest that Maggie will never truly understand, but she doesn’t need to.

No, Fox Mulder is the reason Maggie now sees a real and fulfilled happiness on her daughter’s face for the very first time.

“Nothing, honey. Nothing at all,” Maggie assures, and she means it.

Dana cocks a brow - just like her father used to - and points to the kitchen. “Okay, well I’ve a kettle on the stove if you want some tea.”

The house phone rings before Maggie can respond and Dana stares at it carefully, as if considering whether or not she should pick up. At the fourth ring, she gives in and answers with a breathy, “Yes, Mulder?”

Maggie smirks, silently moving about the living room to gather her things.

“The audit has been moved up? To tomorrow?” Dana huffs with her back turned, tapping her nails along her desk. “Isn’t this a little short notice coming from Skinner?”

Walking into the kitchen with her purse and sweater slung over her arm, Maggie removes the teapot from the burner before it screams for attention. She pours her daughter a cup the way Dana likes it and sets it on the dining room table as she finishes her call.

“Yeah... yes, I can do that,” Dana murmurs, failing to fight off a smile before swiftly hanging up. “I’m sorry, Mom I-”

“Have to go?”

“Mm,” she confirms and darts her gaze out the window. Maggie knows the summer sun is only partially to blame for the glow on her Irish child’s porcelain cheeks. “Something like that.”

“Fox needs you.” A question isn’t needed this time and both Scully women know why.

“Yes,” Dana draws a deep breath and nods. “It looks that way.”

Maggie has seen more than enough today to know that it’s always been that way. And when her daughter finally looks at her again, Maggie is staring at her gleefully.

“What, Mom?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Dana runs her tongue across her upper lip, expectant. “You may as well.”

Maggie shrugs nonchalantly, openly grinning now with a motherly confession perched at the tip of her tongue. 

“I may be near-sighted, Dana, but I’m not blind yet,” she teases, reaching up to cup her daughter’s reddening cheek. “Not blind at all.”

*

side note: Mulder leaving evidence of his weekend sleepovers at Scully’s is a little slice of head canon happiness I like to cling to pre Requiem. I do however believe the evidence shows he moved in with her after he came back in “deadalive,” just not beforehand. 

#angst #romance #msr fanfic #maggie scully #cancer arc #pre requiem #journal entries #mulder spends weekends at scully's

[beinmybonnet]

21st December 1907, Iquique, Chile 

The church bell rings out in three joyful tones. With a sharp inhale, Joe sends a prayer skywards on the tails of doves.

Gunfire chases the echoes.

___

Joe is vaguely aware that Andy is dragging him backwards, snarling at his ear. His own fury is there, churning low in his stomach but for now a numbing shock has won out over his body. They’re killing them… he thinks as Andy shoves him sideways. 

 She punches the brick beside his head and her own embittered howl joins a building symphony of screaming. He pulls her bloodied hand to his chest and holds it firm, thumb rubbing at the stain. He swallows.

“We have to be ready,” he grinds out, their eyes meeting wide and furious. Andy nods, digging her thumbnail into the back of his hand and then pulls him further into the alley. “As soon as it stops.” He’s desperately trying to think practically now; they need a way in, a way out, god they might even need to dig in right here, and Nicolò-

“Now, move.” Andy’s rounding corners with clipped efficiency, and he remembers to pull the pistol at his belt. The noise is dying down now. “We can get back in through the playground,” she says in a tight voice over her shoulder. Joe flinches and quickens his pace.

The rear of the schoolhouse comes into view and Andy pauses at the low fence. There are yellow ribbons twisted up the slats of the gate. Every window is shattered, every shutter is swinging. Broken glass and shards of wooden frame litter the hard court and herb gardens.  A group of women are hunched under a windowsill, hands over their shaking faces as they cower against the stone. Final bullets thud into the interior wall and Joe is moving, skirting the fence and pointing out towards treeline.

“Go. Into the trees, go now,” he tells the women, pointing east. One has a baby in her arms, nodding, sobbing as she stumbles backwards. Two are tugging on the sleeve of another, a gaping wound in her cheek. “You have to go, she’s gone – run.” he says, swiftly detangling their hands. A wailing child trips out of the  doorway and is scooped up by the women as they stagger away. Andy moves into the space at his side, eyes fixed on the roof.

“Book was up top with the miners,” she says. While there is noise coming from within the school, there’s no movement from above.  “Goddamn Silva, hijo de puta!”

“They can’t leave survivors, they’ll be sweeping the buildings – if it gets back to Santiago-”

“I know – we’ve got minutes. I’ll get Booker, meet you at the church. Fallback to Quipisca if it all goes to shit.” Joe’s nodding before she’s finished speaking, already inching towards the door. It’s been too long, where-

“Joe.”

“Church, shit, Quipisca – I heard you.”

Andy holds his gaze for a moment, then turns away towards the school. “Be fast.”

___

Joe finds him in the westernmost classroom, body curving up from the stone.

For every room searched in stoicism, blinkering himself against the mounting horrors – this one rushes up to greet him in obnoxious lividity. The little ones lie amongst their splintered desks like discarded dolls. Their limp bodies curled together in their fear. There is a small boy slumped against the wall at his feet, his white smock drizzled in ropes of crimson over a heaving chest. Joe allows himself one aching glance across the room at Nicky’s still form, and then crouches quickly before the child, cupping his shaking face in his hands.

“You’re alright, you’re alright – let me see,” he murmurs in Spanish, shifting himself to block the boy’s view of his classmates. He moves his fingers quickly over the small chest and torso, finding a shallow graze across his ribs and a deeper one along his collar. The boy’s red eyes are fixed on Joe’s own now, sobs seizing and catching within him. Joe unties his neck scarf quickly and fastens it tightly around the boy’s own throat, pressing firmly. “There now, looks much better on you.”

Little hands grip tightly at his wrists, trying to pull Joe closer. He’s about to lift the boy up into his arms when there’s a crunch of broken glass from the hallway, and a young woman drags herself through the door on her knees. Joe spins sideways, pistol raised - but she’s crying out desperately, hands tacky with blood and reaching for the child.  

A choked cry for his mother the boy and is wriggling toward the door and then clasped in her arms. Joe exhales heavily, opens his mouth to tell her to go, to run-

-and there’s a shallow breath from behind him

He’s across the room and on his knees in the space between heartbeats. Nicky is facedown, arms curled in against himself but now breathing raggedly. Joe’s eyes roll up in fierce gratitude for those breaths and he quickly runs his hands over Nicky’s shoulders and down his spine, following the line of scarlet rosettes stained over his bowed back.

“Nicolò?”

Nicky presses his palm to the stone to raise himself up, struggling for purchase on the bloody floor. Too bloody. Joe’s hand clenches hard in the damp fabric at the small of Nicky’s back, fingers tightening in dread- that’s too much blood- he’s still bleeding-

But his eyes catch a neat plait trailing under Nicky’s arm. Joe’s breath stalls violently in his throat.

Lifting his head sharply now, Nicky scrambles for traction in the blood with his free hand, his right curled beneath the head of the girl within the cage of his arms. He lifts his body away from her, their clothes clinging and sticking together. His brows knit briefly, ducking his chin to peer at his own chest. Then raises his eyes to trace her form. “No, I…”

The holes piercing her pinafore are a perfect reflection of the exit wounds on Nicky’s own chest. Joe’s heart seizes painfully, and he slides his hand up to rest at the nape of Nicky's neck as he whispers his uncertainty once more. “But I-

“We have to go Nico,” Joe tells him quietly, hating- hating the world beyond the window with every fibre within him. Nicky nods absently but is still staring down at the little body cradled in his hands. He doesn’t move. “Come on, we-”

“I don’t understand.” Nicky's voice is quiet but clear. Eyes locked on unseeing eyes. Joe wants to yell, wants to hold him, wants to lead him out to the Plaza and unleash unholy hell at his side. But he touches the pads of his fingers to Nicky’s chin and tilts his face gently.

“I know.” He pauses, so Nicky can see the truth in his eyes. “But you have done all you can.” A harsh sound claws from Nicky’s throat and Joe winces, knowing. He opens his mouth to speak again, but there is a sharp call and response from the school’s forecourt and Nicky meets his eyes with a grimace. Joe cups his hands beneath slight shoulder blades, and together they lower her back to the floor. Nicky pulls her sodden plaits back to rest across her front, and Joe gently closes her wide eyes with a whispered prayer to carry her on. As they stand Nicky turns to survey the tragedy littered around him, and his expression starts to quake in a way Joe cannot bear for a second longer.

He knots their fingers together and pulls him from horror.

___

In the end, they don’t speak of her until they have crossed the Bolivian border and made a more private camp. At the church, they stood with Booker as he roared into the rafters, blood still dripping from his coat. They had moved quickly through Quipisca, following Andy through the protective grooves in the earth with what was left of the miners and their fractured families – seeing them safely into Noasa.

Nicky is sat at the ridge’s edge, feet hanging in the open air when he speaks the words once more.

“I don’t understand.”

Joe looks up at his side but does not speak. This this will have been taking form in Nicky’s mind since they left Iquique. He hasn’t pressed or pushed – knowing the words would come when Nicky was ready to speak them into the world. He's felt his turmoil in other ways of course, the bite of his nails into Joe’s wrist as they slept, the hard press of his boots into the ground as they hiked – as though he could stamp his rage back down into the earth that had birthed it. Finding words to compliment such depth of feeling has always been harder for Nicky, less instinctive. Thus all that fall from his lips do so with the deliberation and care - never wishing to be misunderstood. Joe swore to himself aeons ago that he would treasure them all.

“There are days, when I don’t understand,” Nicky corrects softly, lifting his left hand to drag his fingers down his own chest. “What is the purpose of my body if not to fall, so that others can stand? What is the purpose of this gift, when I cannot give it?” He pauses, taking a measured breath. “I had her, I shielded her, and it still was not enough. My body could not save her. My death was not enough.” Nicky sags back slightly now, jaw tightening in distress and Joe aches with him. “If death is not enough… I have nothing else to give.”

Joe takes a raw moment to absorb the words, to give them space to breathe – but his own are formed and sure.

“Our deaths can be a gift for this world, I agree. We can give, and give, and we can give again. But all we can do is give, Nicoló . We cannot control what is taken.” A charged pause chases the affirmation.

“So much was taken.” Nicky whispers into the sky.

“It was. What was her name?”

“Magdalena. Her name was Magdalena,” Nicky smiles around the sound. “I was trying to teach them the polka. She was the quickest.”

Joe grins now, his laugh a bark in the night. “I could hear them laughing from the Plaza, I wondered if you were trying to teach them arithmetic.” He takes a neat elbow to the ribs and uses the leverage to tug Nicky’s hands into his lap where he clutches them tightly, running fingertips over familiar knuckles. The view before them is effusively beautiful. The slighter hills roll together casting deep shadows into the valley’s clefts, and he can hear the rush of shallow rapids far below them. The red rock ridge they have settled on juts out into the clean air with pride, confident of its strength and place in the world. But the stars boast their beauty too stridently to be ignored. Joe cannot remember a night he could trace the constellations he learnt as a child so clearly.  

Nicky dips his head to the cradle of Joe’s shoulder, tension starting to leach from his frame. But Joe will not allow them to rest this night until one issue is unwaveringly refuted.

“My love, being unable to prevent their deaths does not void the joy brought to their lives that morning. I would have you know that.” His words are steady. “Death is not your only gift, nor is it your purpose. You have so much more to give this world”

Nicky blinks slowly against the cotton of Joe’s shirt and presses his lips to his collar for a long moment. It’s acceptance, Joe knows. Grateful receipt of honest words.

“Do you feel it Yusuf? What is happening to this world?”

He does. Like a gnawing shadow on his heels. He struggles still to give it form. It’s like the world is racing against itself, ever hastening its pace. He can feel the panic of it - the pressure. It has always been this way, the bitter bite of competition having wounded lands of his heart long ago. A prize sought was a holy land, a shining and maddening city toyed over for generations. Deemed a worthy reward for the sacrifice of many lives.

Today it is 18 pence. A quick little girl, and her whole community lie cold in their grave this night for 18 pence. The exclusivity of their dirt such a point of pride for a country that its people ceased to have meaning. The behemoth of industrial greed blindly claiming them.

Joe’s words are heavy. “I feel it.”

“The world is changing. This is not the end, this growing carelessness for life.”

He picks a star, and pulls Nicky closer.

#okay i guess i'm writing again #immortal historical husbands #i tried to resist them and have admitted defeat #the old guard #usermarwan #whose set on joe's hands reminded me whilst writing to convey how tactile he is #the old guard fic #my fic #chasing the echoes #mine

[thedistantdusk]

Can you write anything with the Harry/Ron bromance? Thank you, you are helping me survive quarantine!

Thanks to @floreatcastellumposts for all her help! For once, this is only mildly inappropriate! ;)

On AO3.

Rain patters on the window of the attic, sounding angrier by the minute. For once, the exterior of the house is louder. This is quite a feat for the Burrow ever, but on an afternoon in June, it’s almost unheard of.

Harry lets out a deep breath, running his hand across his eyes. Over the past month, he’s adapted to the silence. He’s started to crave it, to consider it reassurance that everything’s on the mend. There aren’t explosions or calls for help or sobs emerging through the rubble and darkness. There’s simply quiet. Solitude. Even—

“HEY!” The door bursts open, slamming against the wall, as Ron pierces through the aforementioned solitude.

Harry just sighs and gets his glasses from the bedside table. No hope of an afternoon nap, it seems.

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” Ron deadpans, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

Harry rolls his eyes; since he and Ginny got back together, Ron and George have greatly enjoyed taking the mickey anywhere they can find it. Just yesterday, George had interrupted a perfectly good garden snog with a series of nonsensical, thinly-veiled questions (“Have you dipped your nib in ink, Harry? How was it? Please, I’m desperately curious for feedback on all nib-dipping experiences; this could be vital information for restocking a line of magical quills at the shop!”)

Now, though, the girls are off shopping; the Burrow is empty, save for the two of them. To Harry, this seems like much of the same.

“Interrupting a kip is the least of your worries, mate,” he mutters darkly, sitting up in bed. He hopes the meaning isn’t lost there. If Ron’s going to be a cock-block, he’s going to hear about it.

Ron doesn’t respond, though. Which is odd. So Harry slides on his glasses and takes in his appearance. Ron’s looming frame stands near the door, his freckles and red hair more distinctive than usual. It could be the lighting, Harry thinks; after all, it is quite gray and dim up here. Ah but no... that wouldn’t explain why he’s now awkwardly shifting in place, rubbing his palms against his jeans.

Then, Ron clears his throat — and suddenly, his face turns red instead of white. “Erm. Listen,” he starts uneasily, avoiding Harry’s eyes. “I’ve erm... I’ve got something to discuss!”

He ends with a sort of jubilant bounce on the balls of his feet, wearing a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Harry peers back warily. If Ginny were here, she’d suss this weirdness out straight away. She’d know, just from his posturing, what Ron’s getting at. A moment later, he opens his mouth to speak again — but just as quickly, he seems to decide something or other is a bad idea, because he waves his hand and strides toward his bed with an anxious huff. As if that explains anything.

“Right,” Ron says, settling down across from Harry. “Right.”

“Right,” Harry echoes, arching an eyebrow. “You… feeling all right?”

“Mm.” Ron hunches over, his elbows on his knees, and stares at the floor.

As the seconds pass, Harry peers at Ron with a growing sense of dread. It’s rare he’s this quiet around him — and Harry doesn’t like it. It’s too reminiscent of darkness, of the times they’ve been at each other’s throats. Has Harry done anything to make him angry this time? He doesn’t think so. Ron’s been supportive, even, of his renewed relationship with Ginny. Apart from giving him shit for it.

This silence isn’t doing his head any favors, though. So Harry decides to break it.

“Listen,” Harry says uneasily. “I don’t want to pry, but—”

“—So you know Hermione and I are properly together, yeah?” Ron blurts, his words stringing together so fast they sound like a single syllable.

Harry clears his throat and tries to respond as delicately as he can. “Mate, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I think most of the castle knows you’re properly together.”

But Ron’s not on the same page. “No,” he says over a humorless chuckle, his eyes still locked on the floor. “That’s erm. That’s not what I’m getting at.”

Then what…?

Oh.

Oh no.

Harry’s stomach clenches with fear, head filling with memories that seem far more distant than a year old. He remembers Lupin’s drawn, tired eyes when he approached them in Grimmauld Place. He remembers the unflinching expression of horror and shock, the way he distanced himself from Tonks’ baby. He remembers the resigned tone in his voice, like a man marching to his own execution.

Then, of course, Harry remembers tiny little Teddy. The baby who’d charged in and changed everything. Tiny little Teddy, who is undeniably adorable… but also fuck-loads of work.

Shit. Harry desperately blinks up at Ron, pleading with the universe that he’s wrong, that he’s made a mistake in this leap of logic. But there’s nothing reassuring about what he finds. Ron’s still staring at the floor, his eyes wide and unseeing, his back hunched.

This couldn’t be... no.

Hermione’s smarter than that, isn’t she? Hell, Ron — with his six siblings — must also be smarter than that! They’d never let... something… happen.

Right?

But even as Harry tries to deny it, he knows there’s a chance — mostly because Hermione’s a right moron when her feelings get involved. Fuck. Harry’s stomach churns as the memories shift. He sees birds pecking at Ron’s hands in that abandoned classroom. He sees Hermione’s face when Ron returned to the tent last year, her eyes flaring with something unbridled and terrifying.

Best to get it over with, though. Like ripping off a plaster. If he’s going to be an uncle (the word lands like a sour rock in his stomach), he reckons he’d rather know as soon as possible.

With that, Harry clears his throat. “Erm. Ron, I’m not going to push you, but—”

“—Hermione wants to know if you want to arrange something where Ginny comes here at night and I go down there and we sleep there ok.”

Somehow, this string of words comes out even more quickly than the first, leaving Ron in a red-faced, mortified silence; Harry only understands any of it at all because he knows Ron so well, but he gives both of them time to process the exacting wording of the declaration.

After a few seconds, though, Harry’s still not sure what to make of it — and not because he didn’t understand the literal words. No… the real fear is that he’s ignored what Ron actually said and supplanted what he wanted to hear.

So Harry draws a deep breath, guarding his heart as he does. “Ok ok ok,” he says, raising his hand. “I… I need to make sure I’ve understood you correctly. You’ve only come in here to tell me that Hermione’s cooked up a shagging arrangement. Is… is that right?”

There’s another pause.

For his part, Ron only looks impressed. “Yeah mate,” he says fairly. “Sums it up.”

Oh for the love of —

Harry releases a half-laugh, half-sigh as he collapses back on the bed. Shagging! That’s all Ron was after! For fuck’s sake! Harry’s chest feels lighter, his head happier, his future brighter.

“You… seem surprised, though ” Ron notes, peering over. “What did you think—?”

Harry laughs again, cutting him off. “I thought you’d got her pregnant! I was terrified for you! Can you even imagine—”

“Nooo!” Ron says sharply. He shudders, the color draining from his face. “No,” he repeats, raising his eyebrows. “No, I cannot, so please don’t even joke about—”

“Oi, who’s joking?” Harry counters. “You’re the two who ran off to Australia and spent nights in hotels! Your mum was scandalized, by the way. It was brilliant.”

He ends with a grin, but it seems that the word Australia was a bit of a trigger; Ron’s face is now blank and happy, his mouth spread into a gormless smile as he stares at the wall above Harry’s head.

Ugh. Harry looks away. He’s glad he hasn’t volunteered his (rather unfortunate) knowledge that those two shagged before they even left the castle. Harry still can’t decide if Ginny’s ability to wheedle information out of people is a blessing or a curse, but he reckons it’s best to push the subject of Ron and Hermione’s sex life from his mind.

As if on cue, Ron sighs from his bed. Harry’s pleased to find he’s not making that weird Hermione face anymore, but he doesn’t look entirely… settled either. His expression is pensive, his arms crossed over his chest, and it takes a few more seconds for Harry to understand why — but when he does, it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his brain.

Oh.

Harry releases a deep breath of his own. Ron hasn’t said a word, but he’s certain they’re both filled with this sort of… shuddering awareness of the situation at hand. Because this is the first time they’ve broached this, isn’t it? The fact that they’re intimate now, with each other’s sisters. Harry can’t decide if that’s more comforting or repulsive — but more than anything else, he reckons it’s just... different. Nothing more, nothing less.

After all, it wasn’t long ago Harry was terrified they’d get together and leave him. But when they got together — right in front of him — Harry hadn’t been jealous or scornful; he’d been happy for them. He reckons he would’ve been chuffed, even, had they not been in the middle of a battle, but that hadn’t stopped them for long.

Then again, it also wasn’t long ago that Ron yelled at Ginny for snogging Dean. A year ago, Ron had yelled at him for snogging Ginny — mostly because he’d been concerned about his sister’s feelings. Harry hadn’t blamed him for that, not really, but he nonetheless reckons it should’ve foreshadowed Ron’s cock-block tendencies.

Another vacant smile crosses Harry’s lips. They’ve all changed, haven’t they? War changed them, to the core. Age changed them, to the core….

“Erm. But please, don’t give me details,” Ron blurts, apropos of nothing. He shivers again despite the warm afternoon. “I think I’d rather remove my fingernails with a blunt needle than hear about how much you love shagging my sister, thanks.”

Harry raises a brow. Technically speaking, Ron’s wrong in his conclusion. They haven’t… done that. Not properly, even if they’d hedged around it more times than he can count. They’ve done basically everything but shag, actually, but Harry reckons that would be more mortifying to admit than just letting it go.

Not that they aren’t ready; Harry knows they’re both ready. But through either sheer practicality (his reasoning) or misguided chivalry (Ginny’s), Harry couldn’t bear to live with himself if he took her virginity in their usual haunts of the garden or Mr Weasley’s shed.

Now, though, they’ve got… options. That Ron — of all people — has delivered on a silver platter.

Harry feels his pulse quicken at the thought as his jeans start to tighten. Aaand lovely, this is now thoroughly embarrassing. He needs a distraction, now.

So Harry loudly clears his throat and picks up the threads of their conversation. “Yeah, and I’ll trust you to do the same when it comes to Hermione. I’ve no desire to hear about—”

Ron interrupts with a wave of his hand, but when he speaks again, he’s not taking the mickey like before. “Noted,” he says firmly. “Just erm... I guess I also wanted to make sure...” He trails off, biting his lip, but seems to think better of whatever he’d started. “Nevermind, it’s stupid. Do you want to play chess?”

Harry’s not letting him off the hook that easily. “Whatever it is, mate, I’m sure it’s not the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

Ron laughs. “Yeah, and that was kind of my point, actually.” He rubs his hand on the back of his neck. When he looks at Harry again, there’s a telltale spark of reassurance shining behind his eyes. “You… erm. You know we’re still us, yeah?”

Oh.

Harry hadn’t realized he’d been that… transparent. He gnaws at the inside of his cheek. They’re together now — all four of them, which is the best possible situation. But he can’t deny there’s a lingering fear that romantic relationships, real ones, will change them forever. That he’ll lose the first friend he ever had. That they’ll finally have found the one thing they can’t talk about, even as the topic voraciously consumes both of their thoughts.

Has any of that happened, though? asks a voice in the back of his head. It sounds suspiciously like Ginny.

Harry’s lips curl into another smile as the answer comes to him.

No. No, it hasn’t.

Because at the end of the day, they’re still Harry and Ron. They’re the two prats from Gryffindor who became best friends on the Hogwarts Express and got detentions together and shared a mutual loathing of Malfoy, all as their voices cracked. They’re still Harry and Ron, who fought bitterly and pretended to hate each other and nearly vomited on each other and discussed wanking techniques.

No matter what, they’ll always be Harry and Ron. Their relationship survived Voldemort. How could Harry have thought it wouldn’t survive sex?

“Yeah, we are,” he agrees. “Just, you know...” He makes a vague hand gesture. “Taller. Wiser.”

Ron smirks, rising to stand. “Actually, I was gonna go with shagging each other’s sisters — but if you’d like to pretend you’re wiser...”

Harry chokes out a laugh. “I reckon Hermione’s still the wisest of us all, seeing how she arranged this. What time were you thinking, by the way?”

“Eleven minutes past ten,” Ron says promptly. “We reckon it’s less suspicious if it’s a bit off the hour.”

“Eleven minutes is highly specific, mate.” Harry raises his eyebrows. “Please tell me that number wasn’t in your head because of some… personal record. Or something.” He makes a face and moves to stand, too.

Ron just jerks his chin towards the door. “Do you want to play wizard’s chess? And I’m not going to dignify that with a response, by the way — but just know, you’re definitely, definitely incorrect.” His lips twitch. “As well as a total wanker.”

Ha! He’s left himself wide open!

Harry laughs and strides into the hallway, too. “Only when I think about—”

“UGH!” Ron groans dramatically as they walk downstairs, but Harry can hear the grin in his voice. “I thought we agreed never to discuss that!”

Harry spreads his palms in surrender, but doesn’t push it; Ron’s been more than understanding today, so he reckons he’ll let it slide — at least until the next time he tries to give him shit.

Then they march into the living room wearing stupid, contended grins, just as they’ve done a thousand times, for one reason or another. Then they play wizard’s chess, just as they’ve done a thousand times. Then Ron kicks Harry’s arse, just as he’s done a thousand times.

Ron pumps his fist in triumph and lets out a jubilant yelp as he resets the board — and although Harry would never admit it aloud, he’s nonetheless reached a comfortable, contented conclusion.

He’s fine with losing at wizard’s chess for the rest of his life… as long as he loses to him.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry/ginny #Harry/Ron brotp #Harry/Ron Bromance #romione

[austarus]

Harry Wells x Reader Crisis of Infinite Wells (Part 3 of 5)

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to @countlesswells

Part 1    Part 2    Part 4    Part 5

*Yes, I know this is super late, but I had so many exams and deadlines shifted due to the transition online. Didn’t help that finals were around the corner either. But I’m back, and hopefully I can make things right with my fics, especially with the fact that we’re not going to get the Alls Wells That Ends Wells episode this season thanks to Ms. Rona (Please don’t come after me T.T). Anywho, this ended up being super, SUPER, long and I have no regrets. I feel that we need this series more than ever. If you already haven’t make sure to check out Part 1 and 2. Don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment, I read them all!

Word Count: 6601

You took in a deep breath, simultaneously opening your eyes to find yourself being hovered over by Caitlin and Cisco

“There’s our sleeping beauty,” Cisco jokes, grinning at you before running back over to the monitors to get a screwdriver.

“Mm, it’s too bright here.” You winced and blinked a few times as your brain had finally registered the bright lights of the Speed Lab. Rubbing your face a few times, you moved slowly to sit up. Stretching your aching body, you cracked a few bones and let out a little noise in contentment. Eyes looking around for a bit, you saw that the Mindscape Machine was still out, and that Cisco had hooked you and Nash onto it. Nash was still knocked out on another bed though because of the sedation. He looked peacefully asleep, as if the weight of his expeditions and the murmurings at the back of his head were gone. He should be coming back soon, I hope.

Cisco noticed where your gaze had gone before grabbing your attention, “Cecile had to go back home to feed a fussy little baby Jenna and Joe, so we ended up resorting to the Mindscape Machine. Went smooth sailing, thanks to our very own resident genius engineer, no thanks needed. All in a good day’s work.”

“I figured when you chimed in saying that we needed to go to the Nexus of Nash’s mind to get out.” You pointed out.

“Nash should be waking up in an hour or so, he’ll be fine I promise. How are you feeling?” Caitlin asked softly as she checked you over for any sign of abnormalities before removing the wires from your head.

“Cold,” goosebumps were already breaking out through your body as a shiver goes down your spine. “Really cold, Caity. Can’t you STAR Labs techies afford heat or something?” You joked, watching a look of fake hurt cross Ciscito’s face, a hand automatically over his heart.

“Dude, it’s like beautiful outside and what am I doing? I was stuck in here babysitting Princess Aurora and Pebble Brain over there until you guys came back to reality. You’re welcome for that, by the way,” Cisco made a face, pointing towards the direction of Nash’s unconscious body with a screw driver before walking back to where you sat, “while fixing these bad boys up,” the mechanical genius gestures dramatically to the tech in the room. “Meanwhile, Barry and Not-Mirror-Iris are on a picnic date in Central City Park enjoying the sunny weather. One which I wanted to do with Not-Mirror-Kamilla first.”

You and Caitlin just giggled at Cisco’s dramatics. Caitlin gave you the ‘all clear’ that your neural functions were still working and that you should be coordinated within your own body.

“So, Persephone,” You rolled your eyes at the nickname and shook your head at the two. Cisco had basically dubbed you and Harry that even before you had gotten together. In secret of course, or else Harry would start throwing things at him for dropping obvious hints of his feelings towards you. It’s at least so much better than Romeo and Juliet because in all honesty, they had a tragic love story and that is something that my love life does not need. More tragedy, internal pain, and suffering. “Did you see your Hades again?”

“I did, yeah.” A soft smile crossed your lips as your mind replays the interaction, your cheeks dusting the lightest color of pink. Your gaze dropped down a bit as Cisco and Caitlin started going “Ooooooo” as if high school gossip girls wanting you to spill the beans while giving you that one look you know all too well. You didn’t have the heart to tell them to stop.

“How is he?” Caitlin asked while Cisco nodded, wanting to know if his friend’s okay.

“He’s good,” you responded with a smitten grin, and then made a little sheepish face. “They’re all good.”

“They?-” Caitlin frowned as she slowly asked with a raised eyebrow.

“-Excuse me? They?” Cisco had a look mixed with dumbfoundedness and disbelief. His mouth slightly open as you saw his mind comprehending that simple sentence. You just nodded with a slightly sheepish grimaced expression. “You-”

“-had to meet the entire Council of Wells and propose to them the Multi-Dimensional idea that could possibly save them all because my boyfriend and a select few of his pals convinced me to since apparently the Wells men tend to have lots of arguments and so they also tend to never get things done sometimes. Yeah. That happened.” You quickly rambling how you met the infinite Council of Wells and then slowed down at the latter sentence with a nod. Cisco and Caitlin were stunned in place as they had tried to keep up with every single word that you said. Before they could even say anything, you spoke up once again as you got off the bed to stand on wobbly legs. “Did I mention that Harry, Sherloque, and Wolfgang are the triumvirate lead of the Council and that Sonny’s their hype man, apparently? I did not ever see that happening.” You ran a hand through your hair, “I have seen things. Standing in a huge lecture-ish mental room in Nash’s mind filled with doppelgangers of Harrison Wells is something I just cannot unsee.”

“No, you can’t.” Cisco added in agreement, his arms crossed. “You met all of them?”

“I mean, sorta. I mainly just stood at the front where the Wells triumvirate take their spots to start their meetings. Ok, so like you know the Galactic Senate from Star Wars where Palpatine and Padme were in?”

“Hell yeah, I do. What do you take me for an uncultured swine?”

“So, like, the layout of the room was sorta styled like that.” Cisco looked slightly mind blown because Star Wars obviously. You located your leather jacket and put it on to have some layer against the cool wind of the AC. “How’s everything coming with the modifications?”

Cisco and Caitlin look at each other before Frost took over for a bit, “I think this is the part where we tell you that they’ve sorta hit a roadblock.”

“Perfect,” you deadpanned, with a slight pain reverberating at the back of your head. I need some coffee, you thought before collecting your things and giving Nash one last glance.

***

I jinxed myself when I told Cisco that I could handle this. Handle them and their stupidity. A frown plastered itself onto Nash’s face, his head throbbing at the legit argument going on at the back of his head. What about? Who the hell knows or cares? Rubbing his face then his temples when the headache started to radiate to the front, the dark-haired explorer let out another annoyed groan as a doppelganger started yelling to contribute to the argument. I have never been more annoyed at the sound of my voice. Nash’s been trying to mentally block them so he himself can think things out, but collectively it hasn’t been succeeding. His heavy footsteps carried him to the Med Bay, thankful that no one was here at this ungodly hour to see him like this. I need an icepack and multiple pills of aspirin. Nash snorted when a mental image of you scolding him for the number of pills he might take to ease the pain was conjured in his mind. You entertained him, is what he told himself, just like the rest of them.

As he entered the Med Bay, the door creaked and the dim lights from the labs allowed him to see a faint silhouette on the bed. Nash raised an eyebrow as he crept slowly towards the bed, gauntlet at the ready.

“Well, speak of the devil,” he whispered to no one in a low voice, forgetting about the throbbing and disgruntled voices in his head. Nash disengaged his gauntlet. On the bed, you were curled up with a thin blanket, clearly still cold, but sound asleep at this hour. Curled up like a kitten and cuddled up to a pillow. Nash’s blue eyes wandered to what’s beside you, seeing multiple papers messily put together and various binders littering the bed. Due to the dimness, he couldn’t really make out any of the writings on the paper at this angle, but the Wells doppelganger can only assume that they’re medical files for Barry and the others.

Nash’s blue  gaze snapped back to you when you emitted a small noise as you shuddered. He didn’t know why, but he made a beeline for the cabinets and closets, finding another thin blanket hidden in them. At least two are better than one. He pulled the thin cloth over you, ensuring that you would be a little warmer than before. Nash’s gaze softened slightly at your tired expression that you carried even while asleep. Shutting his eyes for a bit only to reopen them, Nash curled his hand into a fist then uncurled it. He let out an inaudible sigh, his right hand reaching out to gingerly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear-

“-Don’t you dare touch her.”

Nash felt as if he was shocked on the spot, retracting his hand rapidly as he turned around, coming face to face with the source of the voice. Harry stood with his hands in his pants pockets, a glare present on his face as he watched his doppelganger with angry eyes. Clearly unamused that Nash was getting close to you. Harry’s words, precise and cold, had cut through the air like a sharpened knife, but you couldn’t hear him.

Nash swallowed, sending Harry a smile of mockery. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to steal her away from you. Unless-” Nash spoke with a raspy voice.

“-You can’t even if you tried,” Harry retorted without hesitation. Nash rolled his eyes taking a few steps closer to his doppelganger. Both men exuded confidence and intimidation towards one another. “Watch yourself, Nash. I have her heart, just as she has mine.”

“You can keep the little lady, for all I care. She’s just good company, you would know that all too well, wouldn’t you Harry? And what do you know, she still owes me a favor. A favor in exchange for my help. I could have easily said no and kept the both of you separated because why would I care if her little heart remains broken and she loses sleep every night over it?” Nash bit down on the inside of his cheek, ignoring that mental image.

Harry glowered at Nash’s cocky words. “When I get back, I’m going to make you regret those words.”

“Look, I’m not interested in her, Harry. Get over yourself and keep her, she’s not that special anyway.” The tension and malice were intoxicating, hanging heavy in the room.

“Are you kidding me? I’m literally in your mi-”

“-Zhe petit fluer ‘as been overworking ‘erself again.” Nash jumped slightly at the new voice, letting out a frustrated breath before turning his gaze towards the French-accented voice. “And you two are ‘ere arguing over ‘er like ‘igh school boys.” Sherloque stood on the other side of the bed as he examined the papers from his height. He was clearly annoyed at both Nash and Harry, narrowing his eyes with an icy look on his face. “Merde, if you want to ‘ash it out, at least ‘ave zhe decency to do it outside,” Sherloque pointedly spoke, crossing his arms.

Harry and Nash briefly looked at each other before moving their gazes back to Sherloque only to find an empty space beside you. Sherloque had retreated back into Nash’s mind in order to sort things out with Wolfgang and the others. J'ai parlé de mes deux cents à ces deux-là. Sherloque took off his fedora and weaved a hand through his dark locks, glancing at the Nexus of Nash’s mind. “Et ce n'est pas bon de se mentir à toi-même, Nash,” the Frenchmen whispered with a knowing glint in his eyes, a stoic smile on his face.

You scrunched your nose and shuffled into a different position on the bed, almost knocking off a binder stack. Harry ignored Nash’s existence, taking a seat on the chair beside your sleeping form and noticing something that anyone else would have missed if they had not been together with you. Nash watched his Earth-2 doppelganger, seeing a certain look cross through Harry’s eyes. Harry slowly reached a hand out only to drop it knowing that he wouldn’t be able to touch you in this state. His hand formed into a tight fist as he dropped it by his side. Harry heavily sighed, shutting his eyes and running a hand through his hair. Nash raked his teeth over his bottom lip, feeling a tiny shred of guilt at Harry’s inability to be here with you. Reopening his azure irises, Harry’s heart stung, and it reverberated throughout his entire being. Oh, how he yearned to hold you again. To be able to wrap his arms around you and pull you close for warmth.

“She’s still cold,” Harry commented his observation, a slightly sullen expression creeping on his face. He readjusted his glasses. Nash raised an eyebrow at Harry’s words. “Just remember what I said. She’s not a prize. After everything you’ve done, she’d never willingly choose you in any lifetime.”

Nash blinked and Harry was gone, the explorer immediately regained composure of himself and his surroundings. Nash felt the tension leave his body, stretching a bit to relieve his muscles. I swear if I roll my eyes hard enough, they’ll fall out of their sockets. With a sigh, Nash gave you one last look before reluctantly shedding off his jacket and pulling it over you. The dark-haired man left the room without sparing you another glance.

What is even considered a prize anymore?

***

It’s been a couple weeks since you had entered Nash’s mind and spoken to the Wells men. Since then they had collectively collaborated with Barry, Cisco, and Chester via Nash to make necessary modifications and electro-/neuro-magnetic adjustments. “I present to you attempt #29,” Cisco announces, sliding out from behind the machinery, with a tool in hand, “which coincidently is the same number of one of my favorite Pokémon from the original 151 of the benevolent Kanto region.”

“Female Nidoran?” You and Barry both questioned the looked at each other. Nidoran is a pretty decent Pokémon, not gonna lie. Poison capabilities that are deadly with a combination of ground-type moves can really have opponents running for the hills without the proper Pokémon to counter its abilities and possible move-sets.

“What? She’s literally a freaking queen in battle and her move-set has been improving tremendously with every generation.”

“To be honest, Cisco, you always struck me for a Poliwag kind of guy when I first met you,” you quipped up. “But I got to say (Insert Favorite Pokémon Type)-types are more my style.

“Nerds,” Nash snickered to himself lowly. You whipped your head back to him, not clearly hearing his exact murmured words, but hearing his voice. The others didn’t hear anything. Nash dropped his gaze away avoiding your look, but not before narrowing his eyes at you. You just continued on with a questioning look, this time your thoughts circulating on if you’d done anything to offend this Wells doppelganger.

He’s been avoiding you since you had entered his mind, which at first you respected because having someone else enter your mind and intrude is weird enough, so you gave him his space. But then it started to turn into him throwing annoyed looks at you when you spoke, gradually and fully ignoring your existence in the Labs as the days went by. Even to the point of not seeking you for medical attention like he normally did when he injured himself in some way. Instead, Nash went to see Caitlin.  

At first you thought nothing of it, Nash probably had his reasons for not wanting to speak to you and you had done nothing wrong in reality that you could recall. But then your anxiety continued to climb as one day passed after another. I’m not a bad physician, am I? I mean, I hope I not. I’ve been doing my best to suture and isolate every variable in order to make correct diagnostics. Nash even ignored you when you asked him if he wanted any coffee when you went on coffee runs. Was it the coffee pun I made? Everyone laughed at it.

“How are the modifications to the dimensional extrapolator coming along?” You asked turning your gaze back to the boys. You sort of regretted asking because you know that they’re going to start talking all quantum physics and math at you.

“Well, after analyzing the multiverse extrapolator and running diagnostics it’s… actually not fit to be modified,” Chester explained, holding up the piece of tech.

“Is that the bad news?” You raised an eyebrow at them, glancing back at Nash for any input, but were greeted with silence.

“I mean, this little baby over here may not be as functional as before, but it does still hold a variety of multiversal coordinates. In which we could cross reference those numbers with any pocket dimension coordinates that we happen to stumble across. Which I’ve got to say is so friggen cool! My world just keeps exploding, first there were multiple universes and doppelgangers, then black holes- but I created that on accident- my bad, by the way-” Chester continued in a quick ramble with a huge and excited grin on his face. If you didn’t know better, he seemed as eccentric as the energizer bunny, you just nodded along politely. “-And now we’ve got pocket dimensions! We really are breaking all the rules of physics-”

“-Chester, grab me the-”

Barry leaned in close, cutting off your focus from Chester’s hyper rant and Cisco’s shout, “We basically need to develop a new extrapolator.”

“That makes much more sense, but I was following Chester’s rant, thank-you-very-much. Sort of. ” you nodded sheepishly at your friend before sending him a teasing smile. Barry held his hands up in defeat. Barry let out a laugh. “How’s Iris?”

The speedster nodded, directing his gaze to the side so you two can side bar. “She’s doing ok, keeping an eye on Eva while running the Citizen. The headaches have receded, but she’s a bit disoriented at times. I’ve had Cisco and Chester install different meta security measures in case Black Hole decides to make a guest appearance.”

“But is she ok? Mentally?”

“She’s… jumpy at times. Iris told me she trusted Eva when she entered Joseph’s hidden lab. That Eva was the reason that she doubted herself in seeing the truth and her instinct that Iris’s always trusted. She told Kamilla the same thing. We’re trying to work through it.”

You patted Barry’s back, “Just let me know if I can do anything to help. If it means anything, Harry taught me how to use his pulse rifle for a worst-case scenario.” You grinned up at him, secretly always wanted to have a reason to put your sessions with Harry to the test.

Barry chuckled and shook his head, knowing that Harry would kill him if he had allowed you to be put in harm’s way. “I think we’ll be good, but thanks for the tip.” You pouted at your best friend before a small laugh leaves your lips.

Nash took a glimpse of you over his shoulder as you giggled at your best friend. He thanked the stars that he was able to reuse the tech from an older MAD produced by Harry and synthesized it to become a mental block between him and the other Wells so that they wouldn’t interfere with his thoughts or pop up randomly. Nash called it Psyche Block. All he had to was to make sure it was on whenever he was in the labs. She hasn’t been sleeping well. He could oddly tell with one look. That small moment of weakness allowed the sharpened tool in his hand to slip his grip and pierce the skin through his entire palm. The dark-haired Wells let out a sudden gasp, blood oozed out profusely. A few droplets had fallen onto the hard drive of the Neural Splicer, short-circuiting it. Your ears caught the noise somehow, frowning your eyes caught Nash leaving with quick steps.

“I-I gotta go…” you whipped your head back to Barry, who had watched the glances that you had thrown at the Wells doppelganger since you entered the room. You pointed to the Speed Lab’s exit, “Do this… this thing.” Barry nodded with a teasing grin at your awkward attempt to excuse yourself, gesturing towards to door.

You were already leaving as you spoke to the speedster. Entering the corridor with swift feet you slightly managed to catch up to Nash. Damn him and his long legs.

“Nash!”

Nash’s blood ran cold at the sound of your voice. He willed himself to not look back, instead to carry on his way to the Med Bay. You saw that he clearly ignored you, which caused an ache to echo throughout your body. With every fiber of your being, you sprinted forward as fast as you could to come to a stop right in front of him causing the geological myth-buster to stop as well, midway to the medical room with an irritated façade on his features. Nash remained silent as you caught your breath, he held a cautious hand out to put up distance between you both, to not have you come any closer.

You opened your mouth to question him instantly at his gesture, but your eyes quickly caught sight of his bloodied hand. Sharp instincts assessing that the wound had been the cause of his escape from the Speed Lab. “You’re hurt.” You ignored his eye roll, taking a step forward and snatching his hand gingerly to examine it. He hadn’t realized that he stopped you with his bloodied hand. The droplets of red had splattered onto the concrete floor, creating a puddled mess of crimson. “Nash this needs stitches. Immediately.” Looking up at him, Nash exhaled roughly side-glancing away in frustration before meeting you with cold eyes. But you did not yield under the coldness. “I can suture this. All we nee-”

“-I don’t need your help,” was his rapid and frosty response. He blinked at you, holding his ground.

“Then who’s help are you going to need, huh!? Caitlin? Last time I checked she was at her mother’s facility because of the bullet-light-energy shot that Black Hole gave her,” You frowned deeply at him with fiery eyes, you had never combusted like this in a really long time. “Can you suture this by yourself?” You asked rhetorically. “This cut is too deep to just put a band aid on it and call it a day.” Nash opened his mouth to retaliate, but you cut him off in a softer voice. “I know that you hate me,” Nash narrowed his eyes at those words, “but let me help you.”

Nash pursed his lips, looking into your pleading eyes and inwardly cursed himself. With a sigh, the older man followed you to the Med Bay, where you proceeded to stitch him up and fully sterilize the wound from the blood and bacteria/bacteriophages that could enter the cut.

“You’re only looking after me because of Harry.” You heart stopped at the sudden words, slicing the air of the room. “What? Nash, that’s not true.”

Nash let out a mirthless laugh. “Isn’t it?”

“It’s not, I can’t believe you would even think that.” You berated him with a serious look, but he just waved you off. You pursed your lips at the silence. “Why do you hate me?” You looked up as you finished your work, eyes meeting his light blue colored ones that you had stared into before. Nash licked his lips, eyes darting to anything else, avoiding the kicked puppy look on your face.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Was it the coffee pun?”

“No”

“The Pokémon nerd talk?”

“Unfortunately, no”

“Then, what is it?”

“It’s- I…” He started, taking a breath in. “Quae dicunt, facite vobis cor eius. Quod pertinet ad eum. Nusquam potuerunt alium, qui non pertinent ad quis enim concupíscit.” The dark-haired man raked an uninjured hand through his hair as he fisted his wounded one, feeling its stitching.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Nash stubbornly shook his head, not wanting to repeat his words.

“Nash, I don’t understand what foreign, dead language you just spoke, but you’re my friend. I’m always going to care for my friends, even and especially when I’m involved with Harry. They’ll always be in my heart, no matter what. And that includes you too, you stubborn idiot.” You grinned at him with sincere intention, placing a hand gently on his clenched fist. A reluctant smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Now, you need to let that heal. So, no tech tinkering or spontaneous adventures in the middle of the day until the stitches come off, doctor’s orders.” You winked, smiling widely at him. You moved to leave the room, throwing one last look back at him.

Don’t- Don’t fucking do that, Nash bittersweetly thought to himself as he rubbed his face when you left the room. Don’t give me that… that smile, saying things like that. He sighed for the nth time that day, unfurling his hand to observe your handiwork.

***

You entered Nash’s mindscape once more, searching for Harry to spend some time with him. Nash had opted to stay behind until you were ready to leave his mind, particularly moody about not wanting to see his doppelgangers because he sees enough of them. He had upgraded the MAD 2.0 so that Cecile’s presence and powers wouldn’t be required for today. Nash, the Wells, and the Team Flash boys have been working closely the past couple of days to ensure that the Psyche Segregator (that’s the current name for all the machines interwoven together) would be fully functional. The extrapolator was essentially finished, it just needed the proper orientation for dimensional coordinates that the Wells doppelgangers would need to report.

You walked down the rocky caves of Nash’s mind before hitting a modern looking corridor that similarly belonged to a level in STAR Labs. With a questioning look, your feet continued on as you decided the top floor would be the place that Harry should reside in with Sherloque and Wolfgang. Entering the vacant elevator and ascended each level, you soon found yourself in front of what looks to be Harry’s office from Earth-2.I guess you can change the layout of things if you’re the Mindscape’s master. You pushed the door open, the lights automatically illuminating the room before scanning the area to find it vacant. Your shoulders sagged a bit. Where is he? I thought Nash told Harry that I was coming. Glancing around a bit, you took a seat at the main desk, finding Harry’s glasses. You made the mistake of putting them on as Harry entered the room with a coffee mug in hand. Harry froze at the door as your gaze instantly locked onto his, glasses still on his face. You blinked at one another. It didn’t take long from a wicked grin to cross his handsomely rugged features at the sight of you.

“Don’t you know you shouldn’t take what’s not yours?” Harry shut the door and came around the desk. So he decided not to show up this time. Harry quickly dismissed the thought from his mind, shifting his focus more to you. He noted your exhaustion and would berate you regarding it later.

“Who said they couldn’t be mine?” You teased back as you stood up, slipping the black frames off you and folding them to clip the glasses onto the collar of your top. Harry let out a deep chuckle, a giggle leaving your own. Your boyfriend set down his cup of java on the upper corner of the desk and dipped down to kiss you. He nipped at your lips when you responded to his sweet kiss before pulling away. Harry enjoyed the slight flush on your cheeks, a reaction only he could elicit with his existence. “What was that for?”

“What? I can’t give my lady a kiss?”

This smooth fucker. The heat in your heart intensified at his words and adoring gaze. You were going to unclip his glasses and hand them to him, but his hand stopped you. To anyone observing the scene, they can literally see heart eyes happening between the two of you. “Your lady may want more than just a simple kiss,” You giggled, your voice lowly enticing before pulling him back in, cupping his face with steady hands as your lips collided. Harry let out a laugh against your mouth, bracing his arms around your waist only to maneuver you to sit atop the cool desk.

Gasping at the sudden movement, Harry pushed his tongue into your mouth. You allowed him to slot himself between your legs, pulling him closer and running feather-light touches through his untamed hair. He groaned against you at your touch. God, you missed this closeness! Every time his lips met yours in fervor his grip on your hips would tighten slightly, sending a small shiver to run down your spine. How is it that this all feels so real?

His name escaped your swollen lips when Harry decided to head south, nipping at the nape of your neck before sucking on your sweet spots. How could he forget where you’re most vulnerable to his touch? Your hands gripped onto his shirt. A small noise left your lips, tilting your head more to the side to give the Harry more access to continue his conquest. The room felt hot, your body on fire at every one of Harry’s kisses as he marked your skin. You breathed his name again and Harry could not think straight. One of his strong hands left your side and cradled your face as his lips re-connected with yours once more in a searing kiss. His thumb gently stroked your cheek. How can the way you simply utter his name allow Harrison Wells to abandon all self-control?

Sherloque strode into the room with his cup of tea only to almost drop it at the scandalous scene in front of him. “Mon Dieu! Ayez de la décence!” You and Harry had ripping apart from each other at the sudden outburst, both of your heads snapping towards him. Harry sent a glare at Sherloque, who responded with an annoyed eyeroll at the couple. “At least lock zhe door if you’re going to get all ‘andsy wizh each ozher,” the detective grumbled before leaving the room and shutting the door. Your cheeks were on fire at this point, opting to look at your folded hands that rest on your lap. But Harry did not look ashamed in the slightest, instead a smirk on his face at your sudden bashfulness. You soon snapped out of your embarrassment when a thought had crossed your mind.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Did you say anything to Nash?”

“No,” he lied, glancing up towards the ceiling.

“Uh huh,” you looked at him dubiously with narrowed eyes, “you know that I can tell when you’re lying, right?” You spoke with crossed arms.

“…” Harry’s eyes met yours and you raised a questioning eyebrow at him for an answer. He briefly shut his eyes before reopening them, “I may have… warned him not to come near you and such.”

“Warned or seriously threatened to utterly destroy?”

“… maybe a bit of both…”

“Harry!”

“What?! Do you not see the way he looks at you?”

“The way he what!? Harry, he’s my friend. Just like Sherloque and HR.” You sighed as he pouted sheepishly at you. “Honestly, you know I only have eyes for you.”

“I know, it’s just…” Harry trailed off.

“It’s just?”

“I’m not here. Physically here, to be by your side. To go home with you at the end of the day. Especially at the labs when other versions of myself show up out of nowhere and seem to try to get all chummy with you.”

You blinked at Harry a few times. “Are you… jealous?” Harry didn’t respond, grumpily frowning at your words as he attempted to avoid your gaze. He didn’t like that word. “You are, aren’t you?” The butterflies in your stomach fluttered as you teased him, knowing that his silence was proof enough. Harry sighed, pulling you in a close hug and you felt his head nod in dejection. Harry didn’t want to admit it out loud, that’s just how he is. You rubbed his back, “You know it’s ok to be jealous, right?” Harry let out a sarcastic exhale, resting his chin on your shoulder. You kissed the side of his head, “How do you think I felt every time a young bachelorette sauntered her way towards you at all those galas that we attended? All those thirst cubes you kept receiving? I swear Jesse had to hold me back before I was about to throw some hands, verbally and politely, but effectively scathing.”

Harry snickered at how you’ve dubbed the cubes he’s received from various women ‘thirst cubes’. “Every night, you were the only thing that I would see.” You gave him a tight squeeze before pulling away to give him a soft kiss.

“And you’re the only Wells that my heart wants to be with.” You smiled up at him before it suddenly dropped.

“What?” Fear grappled Harry’s heart. “What is it?”

You swallowed your own fear that had climbed into your throat. “It’s just… this is the last time that I’ll see you before… we have the systems go online to-” You trailed off as you directed your gaze to the ground, gesturing to your theory going into action as you did so. Harry pursed his lips, tilting your head up to look at him. Your eyes glistened in the calm lighting of the office, your voice cracking, “I’m not going to be there when you wake up, Harry.” The realization struck him as well, his eyes glancing down for a split second before meeting yours again.

“I’ll still find you. I’ll still come for you on Earth-Prime.”

There was a sudden knock at the door that snapped yours and Harry’s attention towards it, followed by a clearing of the throat and a thick German accent. “If you bozh are done in zhere, I’d like for eine kleine assembly to ‘appen.”

***

Diese beiden schwöre ich. “I don’t… even vant to know vhat you two vere doing.” Wolfgang deadpanned, holding blueprints in one hand and adjusting his glasses. Sherloque stood beside him with a new cup of tea in hand, this time without a fedora.

“We would never-”

“-We were having fun.”

You stumbled over your own words while Harry had owned up to his. You failed to realize the light hickies still on your neck until Wolfgang narrowed his eyes at you and Sherloque rolled his eyes as he watched the exchange. Harry knew they were there; he just didn’t point out that they were visible arm’s length away. Damn it, Harry! Your cheeks heated up and now you’re wondering if your real body now has hickies on them because there’s about to be some words thrown your way by two or three particular members of Team Flash.

“Ah ah ah ah, nein. None of zhat,” the German waved you two off with his hand, “just keep your ‘ormones at a decent level until ve get our bodies back. Zhen you two idiotenliebhaber can do whatever it is you two do when not in a crisis.” You dipped your head down shyly, but that didn’t stop your boyfriend from nudging your side and giving you a smug-ass grin. You glowered at him as he wiggled his eyebrows at you before Wolfgang caught your attention again. “Anyvay, ve need to discuss somezhing else vizh you. Sherloque und I vill also be coming to Earzh-Eins.”

“Why?”

“In case,” Harry started, “I don’t make it in time to recalibrate the Multiversal Communications Projector before all the others. Earth-Prime will essentially give the green light to the others in the multiverse to send in their coordinates.”

“We’ve already figured out Earzh-Prime’s dimensionale coordinates,” Sherloque added in. “Une sécurité intégrée vaut mieux que rien.”

You nodded at their words. I mean it makes sense, but… Wolfgang took out a couple sheets of paper that had been rolled up and hidden in the rolled-up blueprint file, handing it to you. “What’s this?”

“Ein liste of names of all the present Vells who’s neurological vavelengths are entangled vith Nash’s,” Wolfgang stated nonchalantly. “It seems zhat some Earzh are either permanently vacant or do not ‘ave ein Vells.”

“Like Kara’s Earth, old Earth I guess,” You responded, holding the sheets. “She’s Supergirl, used to live on Earth-38. Barry had accidentally multiverse jumped to Earth-38, thanks to Harry. He said that no one from Team Flash’s doppelgangers were on Earth-38, unlike Earth-2 and Earth-19.” Earth-19 Your eyes scanned the list; Wolfgang had done you a great favor in numbering it in Earth order. Could he..? The thought was soon shut out as you looked through the list.

Harry watched as your shoulders sagged, knowing who you were looking for. He pocketed his hands as a fake smile plastered itself onto your face.

***

The day had finally come. It’s time for the boys to come back home. Everyone had gathered in the Speed Lab. The machinery interconnected to one another as if interwoven into one mechanical creature. Your heart pounded in your chest and those dubious thoughts returned, but you willed them back. You needed to believe that this can work. Chester and Cisco were calibrating the tablets and satellites, running newer and improved diagnostics for this moment.

“That favor, that you owe me,” Nash’s voice caught your attention, snapping you out of your trance. You looked up at him with a quizzical look.

“Yeah?”

“I’m cashing it in,” Nash’s voice rasped as he took your hand. You humored the geological explorer. “Protect Allegra,” he whispered, his eyes glancing in her direction as her was turned because she was added the finishing touches with Cisco. The simple wish had surprised you, yet at the same time it didn’t in the slightest. “Please.” He sounded like a dying man marching to his death. And in a way he was if this doesn’t work.

“Always,” you nodded at him. Leaning up, you kissed his forehead softly before placing the Psyche Segregator on his head. “Thank you.” Nash remained silent and only closed his eyes as he sat back down. Releasing a breath, he reopening those piercing blue eyes filled with determination, but you can see that behind it there was a form of fear. He nodded. You nodded back at him, taking a step backwards before looking at the others. It’s time. Cisco handed you the tablet that held the ignition keys. You took in a breath, the weight of the tablet seemingly heavier than ever before. A multiverse of lives held within the tips of your fingers, only fate will decide if they live or die.

Your eyes met Nash’s one last time. Doubt choked your heart, but there was no going back. “Here we go,” you spoke each word slowly before pressing the button to ignite the Psyche Segregator.

Translations (Via Google Translate):

French

J'ai parlé de mes deux cents à ces deux-là - I've spoken my two cents to those two

Et ce n'est pas bon de se mentir à toi-même, Nash - And it's not good to lie to yourself, Nash.

Mon Dieu! Ayez de la décence! - My god! Have some decency!

Une sécurité intégrée vaut mieux que rien - A failsafe is better than nothing

Latin

Quae dicunt, facite vobis cor eius - Your heart is its own treasure

Quod pertinet ad eum - It belongs to him

Nusquam potuerunt alium, qui non pertinent ad quis enim concupíscit. - It could never belong to anyone else who yearns for you.

German

Idiotenliebhaber - idiot lovers

Diese beiden schwöre ich - These two, I swear

#harrison wells x reader #harrison wells #harry wells x reader #harrison wells fanfiction #earth-2 Harrison Wells X reader #harry wells imagine #harry wells #Nash Wells #Sherloque Wells #Wolfgang Wells #The Flash #the flash x reader #earth 2 harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #the flash fanfiction #the flash imagine #the flash cw #dc #dctv fanfic #DCTV #team flash

[bobasheebaby]

75 Criminal Minds Prompts

Some of these can easily go very, very dirty, and yes I’m talking about Morgan and Garcia conversations and honestly would it be a list without them?

1 “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you’ve really stopped to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do. ― Hotch

2 “Life is a hell of a thing to happen to someone.”― David Rossi

3 “Destroying a book is like…destroying a whole world.” — Diana Reid 

4 “Trust me, kiddo. I’ve been here before.” ― David Rossi

5 “I’ve always heard every ending is also a beginning. We just don’t know it at the time. I’d like to believe that’s true.” — Emily Prentiss 

6 “He is the perfect man. He doesn’t hog the covers, and he poops in a box.” — Emily Prentiss 

7 “Went on a diet last night. Lost 185 pounds.” — Dr. Tara Lewis 

8 “Marital bliss followed by marital diss! Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” — Penelope Garcia

9 “I don’t take kindly to being blown up. In fact, it kind of pisses me off.” — Derek Morgan 

10 “You know, I've learned that, in the short time I've had the privilege of being a dad... it heals wounds, just being there for your kid.” — David Rossi

11 “What makes you feel confident?” “Statistics.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

12 “NAME , believe me when I say this, I've never known a normal day in my entire life.” — Dr Spencer Reid

13 “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” — Dr Spencer Reid

14 “No one gets therapy these days without a healthy dose of medication.” “What are you implying, NAME?” “That everyone is medicated.” — Dr Spencer Reid and Penelope Garcia

15 “He/She doesn't give a damn about black or white. The only color that son of a bitch cares about is green.” — Dr Spencer Reid

16 “I don't know everything. I mean, despite the fact that you think that I do.” “I never said that. When have I ever said that?” “Every day since I met you!” — Dr Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan

17 “I never have any normal fans.” — Dr Spencer Reid

18 “Hey, Baby Girl, whatever you’re doing, drop it.” — Derek Morgan

19 “Talk to me, Baby Girl.” — Derek Morgan

20 “There you go, Baby Girl, that’s sweet.” — Derek Morgan

21 “Give it to me, doll face.” — Derek Morgan

22 “Hey, doll face. Ready to work some magic for me?” — Derek Morgan

23 “Hey, silly girl. I love you, you know that, right?” — Derek Morgan

24 “Hey girl, you’re on speaker. Behave.” “Or what, you’ll spank me?” — Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia

25 “It was once said that love is giving someone the ability to destroy you, but trusting them not to.” — Derek Morgan

26 “Hey baby girl, I need you to work that magic of yours.” “Rub my lamp, release the Genie.” — Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia

27 “You really are afraid of the dark.” “I'm working on that.” “You should work a little harder.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

28 “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, pump your brakes. What is this about?” — Derek Morgan

29 “Oh, and if you hate sad stories as much as I do, you should leave the room right now, 'cause this is super sad!” — Penelope Garcia

30 “Enchantress of all things possible, use your imagination.” — Penelope Garcia

31 “My least three favorite words strung together: I don't know.” — Penelope Garcia

32 “Hello, my pretties. I have seen the wizard and he granted my wish.” — Penelope Garcia

33 “She knew where to toe the line between right and raunchy.” — Penelope Garcia

34 “OK, let me get you on a secret: Guys, we don’t do well on subtle clues, OK? You got to be direct, straight up. Just tell him exactly what you want!” — Derek Morgan

35 “It’s who you are, Baby Girl. You see the beauty in everything and everyone no matter where you go. That part of you is never gonna change, and I won’t let it.” — Derek Morgan

36 “NAME, people need to know that they're important and sometimes you forget that.” — Hotch

37 “Don't you have something better to do?” “Than to annoy you for three hours? Hell no.” — Hotch and Derek Morgan

38 “I think, deep down, we're all capable of unspeakable things. Where it starts or what you call it, I don't know.” — Hotch

39 “NAME, this is the job, and I need to know that you can be objective.” “And I need to know that I can be human.” — Hotch and Emily Prentiss

40 “Scars show us where we have been, they do not dictate where we are going.” — Rossi

41 “You don't need to do anything you don't want to. Understand?” — Rossi

42 “Just be careful. That ego of yours is going to get you in trouble." — Rossi

43 “Somewhere along the line, I put myself first. I admit it, but I can't go back and change it." — Rossi

44 “It could be that, after all of these years, I rewrote history." — Rossi

45 “Time will pass and slowly you will find how much it hurts. And, maybe, you'll find something else to fill that empty space." — Rossi

46 “Where you headed?” “Nowhere in particular.” “How will you know when you get there?” — Rose and Gideon

47 “Only a man would waste $50 trying to win back that $3 stuffed animal.” — JJ

48 “This is my favorite part. This is where you hang yourself with your own tongue. So, please keep talking.” — JJ

49 “My father/mother believes that children shouldn't be shielded from the realities of the world. I do! Isn't that why we read them fairy tales in the first place?” — JJ

50 “Oh god, please tell me you don't have a crush on a fictional character.” — JJ

51 “You are the best ever.” “Aw, and you're the most perceptive.” — JJ and Garcia

52 “I once dated a guy/girl who washed his/her car more than he/she washed his/her hair.” — JJ

53 “Don't tell me what I want and don't want.” — JJ

54 “You do what it takes to protect your family.” — JJ

55 “Look, I don't speak smartass.” — Michael Russo

56 “How's it having NAME around?” “You can have him/her back whenever you would like.” Hotch and Garcia

57 “So, NAME, when are you and NAME walking down the aisle?” “Hey, whoa, whoa. Baby steps. Baby steps.” “When NAME says "I do", it'll be a national day of mourning for single men/women everywhere.” — Rossi, Morgan and Reid

58 “Ugh! This heat is brutal!” “You know, it isn't so much the heat as it is the humidity.” “At some point, it doesn't matter how you look at it. It all sucks.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

59 “Need a minute?” “So, so badly.” — Matt Simmons and Penelope Garcia

60 “Hey. I came as soon as I could. What's wrong?” — Matt Simmons

61 “We ask questions, and we come home.” “No creepy weirdness?” “No weirdness.” “Good, 'cause I'm about full up in the creepy weirdness department for one night.” — Matt Simmons and Penelope Garcia

62 “Ooh, what about this one? Sunny, two-bedroom. It's close to work. And it's in your price range.” “NAME, you're moving? You don't like change.” “That's true. Change is my kryptonite. But the apartment is no longer a sanctuary. I have a new neighbor. Window's right here. He enjoys doing naked kung fu. Some things you cannot unsee.” — JJ, Simmons and Garcia

63 “Thank you.” “For what?” “For being you.” “Aw, thanks. I don't know how to be anyone else.” — Emily Prentiss and Dr Spencer Reid

64 “When a woman tells a man about her feelings, she doesn't want him to fix her. She wants him to shut up and listen.” — Emily Prentiss

65 “I just feel I can't understand others' emotions if I don't deal with my own, you know?” “The best way out is always through.” “Too bad it's not always the easiest one.” “You're not kidding.” — Dr Tara Lewis and Rossi

66 “It helps if they think you're crazy. They don't argue.” — Diana Reid

67 “I don’t hate you ... I’m just not necessarily excited about your existence.” — Dr Spencer Reid

68 “There are many paths to the same place. Trust me.” “Just so you know, you sound like a fortune cookie.” — Hotch

69 “I’m always right. Also, you’re secretly in love with me.” — Penelope Garcia

70 “I just gave the bartender my number in Roman numerals. If he/she figures it out, he’s/she’s worth a shot.” — Dr Spencer Reid

71 “Shh, the adults are talking. When it’s your turn to speak, I’ll give you permission. Okay?” — JJ

72 “Hey, mama, tell me something I don’t know.” — Derek Morgan

73 “Talk dirty to me.” — Penelope Garcia

75 “Hey, don’t make me spank you when I get back.” “Don’t listen time him/her, NAME, he’s/she’s all talk.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

#criminal minds prompts #criminal minds quotes #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #david rossi #derek morgan #dr spencer reid #emily prentiss #jj #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #nswfish

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Sick Little Games: Forty- Three

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groan.

Clint’s head snapped up from where he was trying to interest Baby Natasha in some cheerios and Banana, but she was more interested in chewing on her hands. “What’s wrong, baby,” he asked.

“This is gonna be the shittiest family reunion,” you answer, taking a deep breath. “Stay here with Nat,” you tell him gently, turning your head to kiss his jaw as he peers out the window over your shoulder. 

Clint nods, watching the black car that rolled to a stop. With the top down, he could see the shape of your mother behind the wheel. He watches you go towards the porch, and through the screen, he can see you standing. Staff in hand on the steps. 

Natasha, sensitive to the moods in the house, fusses, and Clint turns, smiling a little as he picks her up to comfort her. “It’s alright, Little Bit,” he soothes, rubbing her back. “Mommy and Grandma have a complicated relationship,” he explains, “But that’s what happens when you put your kid on a bus to the other side of the country and tell then their evil.”

Natasha looks at him with wide eyes, and Clint kisses her little blonde head, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, baby girl. Mommy and I aren’t gonna let anything like that happen to you. Mommy would tear heaven and Earth apart if it meant you were safe... I just hope she doesn’t kill Grandma to make it happen. It’s hard to get blood out of wood grain.”

The air outside was tense. Like the coming of a violent storm. Thick and oppressive. Clint can feel it, and he knows, from the trembling in Natasha’s lip, that she can too. Her chubby, rosy cheeks are a little pale, and he hugs her closer. Clint wishes he could go stand next to you, but. You’d talked about it often. About protecting Natasha from their hateful influence. And they can’t influence her if they don’t know she exists. No letters. No calls. No contact.

“Mom,” he hears you say, nodding slightly. 

“Y/N,” she starts, “I-I-I you. You look good.”

“Thank you,” you say politely, “Now what do you want?”

“I-” she looks around anxiously, swallowing hard. “Can I come in?”

“No,” you say flatly, “My closest neighbor is 3 miles away. Unless you plan on screamin’, ain’t no one gonna hear you.”

She looks around again, clearly uncomfortable. Clearly feeling the energy whipping through the air, attracted to you and your staff. You’re a woman with presence, and Clint can, in some small way, sympathize. He had felt the ire that roiled through you. The subtle crackle of energy that came with the darkened eyes and set of your jaw. He didn’t need to see your face to know what you looked like now. Hair wild and twisting into dark loops and elf knots, looking down on her like some vengeful goddess. His vengeful goddess. And he counted his blessings that he was not on the receiving end of your anger, however reasonably controlled.

“Family business-”

“Not,” you say, warningly, “My family.” It was at that moment that Natasha broke into a wail, unable to contain the discomfort anymore, despite the security offered from Clint. Despite his arms clutching her close to his chest. 

Your mother looked at you and then at the door, and you glance back over your shoulder, “Bring her here, Clint?” you ask softly. 

Clint nods and walks across the Kitchen, shouldering the old screen door open to bring you your daughter. He wasn’t sure how, if it were magic or just the fact that you were her mom, but. Natasha would always quiet in your arms. When you hold an arm out to take her, she goes smoothly. Hiding her face in your shoulder for comfort. But not before your mother has time to get a look at her face. The blonde hair and blue eyes from Clint and your jawline and delicate nose and cheekbones. And Clint understands why you had him bring her. To save yourself the frustration of having your mom start accusing you of stealing a baby. 

“My-” your mother starts, but you cut her off.

“No,” you say in the same warning tone, “She’s no grandchild of yours. After today, you will not see her again.”

The older woman blanches, and her head falls forward, “Please,” she said, “You have to help me.”

“I have to do no such thing. I tried. Almost three years ago to save the boys. But you and Stirling chose to play dirty.”

She cringed at the memory, “But-”

“Call me a murderer, and I’ll add matricide to my list of sins,” you say calmly.

“And I’ll personally buy the pig we feed you to,” Clint added helpfully, thankful that Natasha was too small to understand you. 

“I need you to save them they-” The woman broke off and choked back a sob. 

“They’re monsters,” you finish. “Made so by your own actions.”

The woman fell to her knees with a wail, and Clint wants to reach for your hand. He knows your heart. And he knows that this is painful. That you kept yourself apart from and new of Stirling’s church. And the boys. But he knows that you need this woman to see you as an immovable force. As stronger than you see yourself. 

It was something you and Clint had discussed often before you got married. Your need to control this. To keep the toxicity from getting back into your life. And he understood. He wanted you to stay out of it. To let them tear themselves apart as they had watched from a distance while you struggled. Pretending you didn’t exist. You deserved better. Natasha deserved better. So watching you now, gazing dispassionately as your mother knelt in the dirt, he didn’t have to try to decipher the tension in your jaw. You were furious. And hurt. And the only reason you weren’t showing your teeth was the baby that was clinging to your shirt, seeking comfort. 

“There is nothing wrong with them that I have the power to fix,” you tell her. “No spirit, no demon, no curse... They are only men. Ment that have been allowed to live in an echo chamber. Men who were never taught how to live. Men who, even if I could help then would want nothing to do with me.”

Your mother looks up at you and wipes tears away, “You evil bitch,” she spat. 

“Always and forever,” you sigh, unmoved. You remember this from before her time as a God-fearing woman. The turn from pleading to posturing. Banking on a fear of her fists to get her way. And reflexively, your grip tightens on your staff. “And now,” you tell her, “It’s time for you to go.”

“Help them!” She screamed, “Help them or I swear to Christ I’ll see you burn!”

Your staff bangs on the wood of the deck making a sound like a gunshot. A bang that sends forth a shimmer of magic that washes over her. Her face contorted in a rage-filled growl. Until suddenly, she looked around dazed. “Where am I?” she asked, eyes unseeing. 

“I’m not sure,” you answer, “But your car will take you home.”

She turns from you with a vague thank you and climbs into the driver’s seat before making her slow, winding way back up the drive. Clint cannot hear the words you speak, but the power behind them makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “I can’t help the boys. But I can get her out of there.”

“But you sent her home,” Clint said frowning.

“Home. Not back to Stirling,” you clarify.

You kiss your daughter’s head and return her gently to Clint, “I think,” you tell him, “That I’m going to go take a bath. Read for a while.”

He nods and shifts Natasha over, hefting her chubby little body more comfortably against his side, “And Little Bit and I will eat some lunch.”

“Yum,” you chuckle, Kissing his cheek, “Lima beans huh?”

“Absolutely not,” Clint said, “I Only had to have her spit them at me once.”

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky x reader #fluff #angst #domestic fluff #Dad!Clint