#nope. clean under your nails bestie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rebeccccccaaa · 3 years

Text

𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗

_________________________

𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Requested: (ANON) Hey :) Would you do an imagine where you live in the apartment next to Steve in Brooklyn and you're kinda very best friends. But one time you see this handsome stranger visiting Steve and you immediately get curious who he is. Steve soon notices you sneaking around when Buck visits him and he notices him seeking your attention as well. So he sets up something to bring you two together, which works? :) I hope this is not weird haha

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Smut 18+ minors dni, fluff, steve’s a major wingman, bucky’s a major flirt ;)

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛’𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: This isn’t exactly a college au but it’s a college au lol thanks for the request. I changed it up a bit cuz the idea of shameless!bucky has been on my noggin for a minute but hope you like it bug

_________________________

You and Steve sat on his couch watching a movie giggling and snacking the day away. You and Steve live across the hall from each other and the movers were confused as all hell and a lot of your guys’ things got swapped when you both moved in, which happened to be the same day. However, since the day you met and you two have been inseparable.

“Oh man, what a classic,” you sighed when the credits came on.

“Too good. I could never get tired of that movie,” Steve laughed.

“I should probably get going. I’ve been all up in your space all day, sorry,” you chuckled.

“Oh it’s never a problem, Y/n. You know you’re welcome to my man-cave anytime,” Steve nudged your shoulder.”

“Man-cave,” you repeated mockingly, snickering.

You grabbed a still filled bottle of beer and walked out the door, not without shouting your goodbye probably annoying your other neighbors. You walked to your apartment seeing the clock said it was around five. You grabbed your laptop and opted for pizza considering you didn’t really want to make anything from the kitchen.

About to input your card information on the website for delivery, you noticed you didn’t have your wallet or your phone. You left it at Steve’s. You walked across the hall and knocked on Steve’s but Steve didn’t open the door.

“Hey, I left my stuff here- Woah, you’re not Steve.”

A very tall fellow with striking blue eyes stood confidently at the door. He had fair skin and long brown locks pulled into a bun rested in the back of head. He was fucking gorgeous.

“Nope,” was all he said before Steve came up to the door.

“Hey you’re back. This my friend Bucky; the guy I grew up with, the one I told you about,” Bucky’s smile grew and you nearly buckled to the floor, gosh he was so handsome.

“I left my wallet and my phone,” you looked at Steve feeling Bucky’s eyes practically boring into you.

“Yeah let me grab it for you,” Steve ran away.

“So you’re Steve’s neighbor?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah; I’ve heard a few stories about you and Steve.”

“He’s told me a lot about you too. Failed to mention how beautiful you are,” what a fucking asshole. Your body and face grew hot at the compliment.

“Here ya go,” Steve came back, saving you from a potentially awkward situation.

“Thanks; uh… nice to meet you Bucky,” you ran back through your door.

“Uh, were you gonna tell me that your new bestie neighbor friend was fucking hot as hell?” Bucky said after he closed the door.

“Dude, come one. She’s too good for you,” Steve laughed, making Bucky roll eyes grinning.

For the rest of the day you couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky, and Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about you. Since that day, Bucky came around to Steve’s almost like clockwork. You were always making sure to leave right before he got there. You would peeked through your peephole, watching him go inside Steve’s apartment.

There were days where all three of you would hang out whether it’d be at your place or Steve’s, usually Steve’s, and those days were the worst. Bucky’s intentional stares and lingering touches. Sitting so close to you when you guys put a movie on.

One time when Steve went to the bathroom he asked if you had a boyfriend and regretfully you said no. It seemed as though his shameless flirting became even more shameless if that was even possible.

“Y/n, have I told you how good you look today?” Bucky asked you when you got back from having lunch.

“Yes, you have. About three times today,” you nudged his shoulder with yours.

“Ah shit. Y/n, I think I left my keys inside. Can I use your extra I gave you?”

“Sure,” you handed him your keys and he picked up the one that looked like an American flag since his birthday was the fourth of July. You thought it was funny and easy to remember.

“Ok thanks,” he handed them back once you guys settled inside.

“You guys want anything?”

“Nothing you couldn’t give me,” Bucky smirked at you, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m good Steve, thanks. I’m actually gonna head back to my apartment, I gotta finish homework,” you told him before leaving.

“You guys are still in school?” Bucky asked Steve when you left.

“She is. She’s working towards a PhD, I forgot in what,” Steve shrugged.

“Oh.” She’s smart, Bucky thought.

“I should probably get going too. I’ve got my bike and I heard it was going to rain for the next couple days.”

“Wait before you go, why won’t you ask Y/n on a date?” Steve smirked.

“Eh, she’s beautiful but I don’t think she’d go for a guy like me. She’s too smart,” Bucky chuckled.

“Nah, I think she likes you too,” Steve said.

“You gonna come by tomorrow?” he asked.

“If it doesn’t rain, sure.”

“It won’t; I’ll see ya then.”

Tomorrow came quickly and your head was buried in a textbook and your hand in a bag of chips. You had order takeout already and quickly ate it leaving boxes and plastics to-go utensils littered all over your table. On the bright side, or rather rainy, droplets fell gracefully down the window in front of you. They weren’t heavy but the drizzle was still very pleasant.

Rainys days were always your favorite. You usually spent them on your bed that laid underneath a window and if you needed extra comfort you’d crack it so you could hear the rainfall and cars drive over wet asphalt. It was peaceful.

Pulling you from your concentration was a firm knock on the door.

“Buck, whatcha doing here?” you opened the door.

“Steve said to come by but he’s not here,” he told you.

“Oh weird. He didn’t say he was going out. Did you try his spare?”

“It’s not there,” you frowned at his statement.

“Here let me grab my keys and I can let you in, he won’t mind.”

You grabbed your keys and searched for the American Flag key for Steve’s apartment but you could find it. The last you used it was when Steve needed his key because he left his in his apartment. Wait, how did he lock his apartment if he didn’t have his key? Why didn’t he use his spare; where is his spare?

“Hey, I don’t know where his key is so why don't you just come inside and wait here,” you offered. Did Steve steal your key? Why?

“Do you want anything to drink?” you asked him.

“You got beer?” he smiled cheekily.

“Of course I do,” you smirked.

Bucky came in and you quickly cleaned your disaster of a living room. There were papers and books everywhere, cups and plates piled on the coffee table. Bucky didn’t seem repulsed but he did mention slyly that he thought you were a tidy person. You punched his shoulder laughing saying you usually are but exams were tight right now. Not only that but you couldn’t even remember the last time you had a guy over.

You put a movie on for you and Bucky drinking beer and eating some snacks you had in a cabinet. You weren’t going to lie, being around Bucky like this was comforting but also nerve-wrecking. He was so handsome and of course that made you nervous. And his continuous shameless flirting did nothing for your own confidence.

“Awe man, Steve said he can’t come home,” Bucky read the message out loud.

“Why?”

“Said he got caught in the rain,” he told you.

“What a fucking liar. It’s hardly drizzling,” you laughed out loud.

Almost immediately Steve texted you asking if you let Bucky in your apartment and you replied saying that you would let him in his but that you knew he stole your key.

I’d do no such thing, he replied and you rolled your eyes.

Remember to use protection! ;)

I knew it! You stole your key from my chain so he’d have come in my apartment, you sent.

Make sure he doesn’t come in you ;D.

Grossss.

“What’s with the face?” Bucky grinned.

“Steve texted me and he is being an ass,” you laughed.

“What, he stole your key so I’d have to come here cause he thinks we’ll go at it like rabbits?” he grinned.

“Did you set him up to sleep with me?” you asked, slightly disgusted that he would something like that.

“No! I just, I grew up with Steve, I know him like the back of my hand. Asked me to come over and surprisingly isn’t there, no spare and you don’t have his key either? I kinda put the pieces together,” he said.

“I would never do something that shallow,” he said.

“Sorry, I don’t think you’re shallow I just- I don’t know,” you stuttered, there goes your chance of even something happening.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he smirked.

You didn’t know exactly how or what happened next. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through you, or the constant tension between you two especially now that Steve wasn’t there with you guys. But either way here you were, your back pressed against your bedroom door, hands held above your head, Bucky’s thigh between your legs, and he kissed you messily.

You chest pressed against his own and Bucky released your hands, cupping your jaw with them to kiss more softly. Your hands went under his shirt and you could feel all the curves and definitions of his muscles. Your nails scratched lightly and you felt him tighten his muscles even more.

He grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it swiftly over his head and your mouth practically watered at the sight before you. You noticed small scars and bumps on his shoulder and you grew curious but Bucky’s lips against your neck were too distracting to ask any questions.

Bucky lifted your own shirt and kissed down your chest and collarbones moving your bra strap to leave small bites and marks along them. He kissed down your stomach slowly kneeling to the ground in front of you. He pulled you sweatpants off leaving a trail of kisses along your legs.

You stared down at him biting your lip and with a wicked smile, his lower lip also between his teeth, he pulled your panties down your legs. He licked his lips bringing his fingers up to your core. You gasped softly feeling Bucky spreading your arousal around. He slowly licked a long stripe up your center, and your body practically melted at the feeling.

Bucky lifted your leg and draped it over his shoulder as he continued to circle your clit with his tongue and finger you. Your hands played with his hair and you breathed heavily getting closer and closer to your release. Bucky added another finger to pump in and out of you. He pressed kisses in between whispers of praises and your legs trembled.

“You look so fucking hot, babe. Taking my fingers so well,” he said.

“Fuck, Bucky, you feel so good,” you threw your head back hitting the door. Your hips bucked signaling that you were about to come and Bucky’s fingers curled and moved faster making you nearly screamed in pleasure. When you did, Bucky leaned forward lapping up your arousal that spilled out of you.

He got up and kissed you softly telling you how good you were and how beautiful you looked just now. He wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his hips. He walked to your bed and laid you down gently. Your finger traced and brushed over the planes of muscles across his chest. The light caught the definitions of the bumps and scars, more prominently this and Bucky noticed your soft gaze.

“I was in a motorcycle accident a few years ago. I almost lost my arm that day. It still hurts sometimes but it’s manageable,” he whispered.

You smiled sadly brushing your fingertips over the scarred skin.

“I’m so sorry,” you said sadly.

“It’s alright, babe. I have this scar in particular, I think it looks like a star but Steve said I was crazy,” he smiled, moving his shoulder to point at the red scar that did in fact look like a star; a very misshapen one but you could see it.

You kissed his shoulder softly before smiling at him and ruffling his hair playfully. He dipped his head down and nipped your skin making you giggle and squeal at his playful antics. He picked his head back up and stared at you for a minute; his gaze made you flushed and shy.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. His hands caressed your skin from your sides to your bare hips up to your cheeks and jaw. You bit your lip and casted your eyes down avoiding his.

“What, you don’t believe me?” he chuckled.

“No, it’s not that.”

“What is it?” He held your hand.

“Nothing, just…” Bucky raised his eyebrows waiting for your answer.

“People don’t tell me those things. It’s been a while since someone said those words to me,” you whispered.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore because I intend to tell you everyday how beautiful you are. How gorgeous you are. How funny you are. How kind you are. How perfect you are,” he kissed along jaw and neck whispering these things in your ear that erupted butterflies in your stomach and chills along your arms.

“Let me show you,” he looked intimately in your eyes. You bit your lip shyly before nodding and Bucky shimmied out of his own pants and boxers. His cock rested against your thigh as he dropped his garments to the side and you could feel just how hard he was.

“You feel that baby girl? You feel how fucking hard you get me? So fucking sexy,” he kissed you messily; his hand falling between your bodies to pump his cock. He reached down to grab his pants once more pulling a condom from his pocket and you smirk teasingly at him.

“What?” he smiled.

“Did you plan on spending tonight between my legs?” you smirked.

“No, but I sure as hell dream about it every night since I met you,” he kissed softly before tearing the foil and wrapping his dick.

He reached behind your back, you arched your chest up for him to remove the bra you still had on and when he tossed the garment to the side he groaned at the gorgeous sight in front of him. His hands kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts, his fingers pinching at your perked nipples.

Bucky slowly slipped past your folds and you instantly felt full from his size. After just the tip, you were worried that he might be too big but even with how big Bucky felt inside you, the pressure was too good and you were already moaning beneath him. He leaned forward capturing your breast in his mouth and his tongue swirled around your bud, teething nipping ever so lightly making your body shudder.

Your hand went to his head and the band keeping his hair back was lost in your sheets. His hair fell forward brushing over your skin creating goosebumps along your chest and arms. Your finger combed through his long locks and your nails scratched his scalp lightly, making Bucky’s eyes flutter shut.

He released your breasts with a lewd pop before giving the other the same attention. His hips rocked in and out of you at a delicious pace and your legs wrapped around his hips pulling him closer to you, his cock reaching deeper inside you. Your moans grew louder with each thrust and Bucky’s groans did too.

He nibbled on your ear chuckling darkly at how good he was fucking you. Practically taunting you as you got insanely close to a release.

“You feel so fucking good, baby.”

“No one is ever gonna fuck you this good.”

“You’re all mine, baby girl. All mine.”

You whined and shook beneath him and his thrust became sporadic. It only took a few more thrusts until both of you groaned loudly in pleasure. Bucky’s head buried in your neck and your chest pressed against his in an arch. When you came down from your climax, your felt eyes instantly felt heavy and droopy. You breathe heavily, your hands lazily scratch his head.

Bucky kissed tiredly along your neck basically purring at the feeling of your scratches. You turned the window directly beside you and watched the rain gracefully fall down the window. The blue hue coming from the night was a beautiful contrast to the warm blurred lights of the city and your small lamp that you always had on.

Bucky lifted himself and went to the bathroom quickly to discard the used condom. He cleaned himself before coming out to clean you up as well. You smiled at him brushing the hair from his sweaty forward and from his face. He left little kisses along your hips and thighs as he cleaned you up making you giggle softly at the feeling.

He tossed the dirty cloth in your laundry basket and climbed in bed back to savor the warmth you gave to him. His arms cuddled you close and he watched your eyes continue to watch the rainfall outside.

“My bike’s probably soaked,” he whispered.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” you turned to him; the rain was coming down hard now and you felt bad.

“It’s alright. If this is how we get to spend our nights without Steve, he can get caught in the rain all he wants,” Bucky chuckled. You giggle before kissing him softly; falling into a harmonious sleep.

Bucky’s phone buzzed in his pant pocket and he reached carefully not to disturb you. He saw a message from Steve and rolled his eyes playfully already anticipating what his message was about.

Please tell you guys are together now. I can’t take the obnoxious flirting anymore, Steve sent.

I think you’re good, but don’t ya think you’ll be third wheeling a bunch?

Nah, I’m with Nat and we made official tonight, Steve sent.

Good for you bud. Thanks for this too. I really like Y/n and I know I can treat her.

I know you will. Otherwise I wouldn’t have let you gone near her XD

Bucky chuckled and you stirred a bit but ultimately went back to sleep curled into Bucky’s side even more. He smiled at your peaceful form. He dared say it but he definitely thought it. He knew he was up for a wild ride with you but he was more than ready to give you the world and more.

From then on, rainy days had become Bucky’s favorite as well.

=================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

@buckybarnes101

@l-sofiamia-l

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #marvel fics #marvel smut

275 notes · View notes

arllenn · 3 years

Text

Staring down at Ruri- no Chime is his name, before you, you can help but feel tired. None of this is making any sense it’s all too much at once.

Bonderev, one of the dickheads behind what happened at black swan bay, had apparently been alive and living well enough to the point where he could give lessons on morality in his final moments. Imagine that! HIM a man who BLEW UP an ORPHANAGE and who had personally shot you and Renata, what he persumed to be, dead! And he had the nerve to ask you to, no- TELL you to protect his son, to not let his actions get in the way of YOU PROTECTING his SON! You’re so frustrated to the point where you’re not sure if you want to burst out into maniacal laughter, break down and cry or just destroy everything in your sight the same way that dickhead had done to you and your family all those years ago.

He had gotten everything and more. A family, a happy life, power and he was freed from all the consequences of his actions. So what about you what did you get? A permanent fear of trusting anyone because “hey I’ve already been used as a genetic experiment by the man I considered a father who then proceeded to blow me, everyone and everything I’ve ever loved to kingdom come! But sure thing nice stranger who I just met let’s be besties!” Makes so much sense. Oh, oh! What about stealing years away from your life! 20 to be exact, man you could’ve been married, had a family, gone to the capital and achieved everything you had wanted to! But no instead what you’re doing is standing here, the same 18 year old who couldn’t do anything to save your friends, your family, as you watched them die in front of you. You’re the person who even in her last moments Renata had to look after and protect. And wow doesn’t that smart, doesn’t it hurt to look down at Chime to see how weak he is, with a voice that trembles and eyes that seem one glare away from overflowing with tears, doesn’t it hurt to look at him and see the worst parts of yourself reflected back at you? The parts you wanted to bury so deep down inside that they’d be forgotten by even you. But here they are, loud and angry and demanding your attention.

Your throat closes in on itself, the hand on your hip tightens. It’s a painful squeeze that’s only purpose is to remind you that, no you can’t cry here, you can’t let anyone see you like that, you cant let yourself be like that, not here. Not in front of people who you should know, who you should trust but who you don't You've spent more time running around for them then with them. It's mean and the ugly cloying feeling that rises up from your chest makes you look back at your relationship with 'your' uperclassmen. Were you even close enough to be called comrades? friends? Most of the time it felt like you were just there. A living phone running to deliver messages from one of them to another. Running errands, throwing yourself into danger or just escaping death for what? People who, people who you- people who you... what even are they to you? Right now your upperclassmen feel miles away from you, both emotionally and physically.

Your nails were starting to dig into your skin in a way that was more then painful. You could feel the moment the skin on both your hip and the palm of your other hand broke. Pulling your lip in between your teeth you try and tune back into the conversation waiting for the right words, for your upperclassmen to throw another request at you so that you can leave, preferably go outside and beat the shit out of one of the trash cans out back before running off into danger once again to fulfill their orders like you always did. And wow, isn’t that something... even now, even now, you’re still just blindly following people’s orders, never asking questions, never saying no. What... what is wrong with you? Hadn’t you learned your lesson already? Hadn't you learned after Herzog that you don't, you can't, just do that. Last time you did that you grabbed onto a rotten rope, a horribly, disgustingly, rotten rope.

"Promsing to protect somebody so recklessly is a foolish thing... nevertheless... thank you." Chime's retelling of his life comes to an end at a convient time. It's perfect really, and so you take that moment, the lull after his thanks, to leave.

You walk out into the lobby of Takamagahara the slow calming jazz music a horrible contrast to the thoughts and feelings that are swirling inside you right now. You make it two-thirds of the way to the bar when you're met with an extremely unpleasnt sight that has you cringing for more reasons then one.

Crow and Yasha are sitting the bar, resting most of their belegirantlty drunk weight on the actual contertop instead of on their chairs. They're demanding extra achoul, Crow shouting about how he can't take something anymore who knows what. And yikes heres a thought, Chime Gen is in the VIP room right behind them, those two who, even if they are drunk out of their minds, are Chisei's aides. They find Chime or even gain the smallest inkling of an idea that he may be here and you'll have more to worry about then cleaning up the counters from their drunk cry fest. Normally you'd step in here, and take over for Quinton the poor bartender on duty who always seemed to get the worst of the costumers but you really aren't feeling up to it today.

Just as you're about to turn around to give the trashcans outside the beatings of their lives Crow says something that you can't help but stop at. "You know I like Sakura don't you?" It was a question directed at Yasha who was only able to groan out what he thought was a response. You debate staying for a second. This isn't something that you particularly care about, nor is it something that really concerns you. But it just, you just want to know a little bit more about what Sakura was like before she became another one of Herzog's victims. Its with that flimsy excuse and the puppy dog look that Quinton gives you once he notices you're there that has you stepping closer, leaning against one of the pillars that trap the bar in its own seprate space.

As Crow continues to slur his feelings out Yasha seems to sober up a bit, it's not by much but its to the point where you're no longer worried about him getting into a bar fight, more just what taxi service to call for him when he inevetably passes out and where to send him afterwards.

Yasha leans over the bar apparently ready to give Crow some type of advice when the following happens. 1) he trips and stumbles over his words "Don't.. Don't worry. We are brothers. I... will never... mock you." sweet right? It would've been if not for 2) The fact that he lurches over its a face you recgonize all too well.

"Quinton get out of the-" 3) Yasha hurls all over Quinton, your words left to hang just as Yasha's icky face goop is left to hang off of Quinton. And now you're royally pissed. Sure you were pissed before but this is the type of rage that can only be quelled by you being left alone to stew in it. Its not the emotional type of rage that you felt earlier when you wanted to smash every glass surface you came across no this is the cold type of rage that leaves nothing but apathy in its wake. because as much as you've been trying to ignore it theres so much more that you had been trying to ignore, so much more that had been pushed to the wayside that you're angry about. You look up at Quinton whose looking at you like a lost kid in a mall that had mistaken you for their mother. Running a rand through your hair you harshly scratch at your scalp. "Quinton," you let out a frustrated sigh, "Take the rest of the night off, you'll be paid regularly and you can take extra pay if you wake up sick tommorrow." You turn to him and start to walk behind the counter switching places with him.

“Right thanks a bunch, manager." He rushes out. Turing towards the staff area most likely to change into his extra uniform instead of going home covered in puke. Staring down at Yasha's mess which was covering most of his area of the counter as well as the floor under his chair your annoyance hit an all new peak. It's not the chunky kind of throw up that can be easily cleaned up, its a mush that resembles watery baby food. It's obvious that this wont be a quick clean and that both mops and floor wipes are just going to push this stuff around instead of soaking it up.

Today just can't get any worse can it? Pushing your hand back into your head you aggitatedly rubbed at your scalp, pushing and pulling at the skin there. You’re pissed off. To come back after fighting against Herzog, let’s not forget HERZOG WAS THERE TOO! HE WAS THERE, HE WAS THERE LIVING AND BREATHING, AFTER ALL THAT HE HAD DONE, HE HAD THE NERVE TO GET UP ON THE PEDESTAL THAT HE HAD CONSTRUCTED, DESIGNED AND BUILT HIMSELF THROUGH EXPLOITING THE INNOCENT TO TEST HIS FREAKY DRAGON DRUGS ON, HE HAD THE NERVE TO TALK DOWN TO YOU! ACT LIKE YOU WERE STUPID OR SOME KIND OF PREDETERMINED FAILURE! You get back from that battle exhausted , emotionally drained, and wanting to destroy yourself to find Finger leisurly drinking with Humpback! After you thought that he died you thought that you had lost another person, only for him to be there and fine. It was reliving yes, but just fucking horrible at the same time. So when you stare down at that mess and the first thing you see when you look up is the VIP room that the others are in you felt like you were justified in deciding that you would be acting on your tiredness and handing off this task to one of your upperclassmen like they do to you so often.

Actually you retract your earlier statement today can in fact get worst. Crow and Yasha have apparently had enough to drink both uncoordinatedly slamming down the money to pay for their drinks, you really don't care wether or not is correct you just want them gone, they BOTH step into Yasha's puke tracking it out the door with them. Yeah, no- you're not cleaning that up nope, nu uh, never. You blow out a heated breath and start to walk towards the VIP room careful to avoid all of the face mush on the floor. Pulling on the curtains that served as the door to enter you called out to the occupants.

"Right, sorry to ruin the fun but I just had two costumers who puked and tracked the throw-up everywhere so I need one of you to go out and clean it up preferably like," You looked down at your wrist as though you wore a watch. Truthfully it was just to hide the annoyed look on your face, "right now please." You glanced up at them Before clarifying "Chime I'm not asking you to clean it up, just focus on resting." Because as much as you wanted someone to clean that nonsense up right away you were also specially tuned into just how draining it could be to meet Herzog like that. "Cool thanks guys!" You clapped your hands together and prepared to leave the room when Luminous started complaining.

"Aw, come on no way newbie, I don't wanna clean something like that up!" He put his hand to the back of his head, a tick you had noticed he did when he was complaining, nervous or worried, "Come on can't you do it? You were already out there.." And there it was normally you would excuse that tone as just being something that made Luminous, well Luminous but today the whiny tone was grating on your ears and you were two steps away from man handling him like you used to with Anton when he was being uncooperative. The thought of him hurts. Witnessing his final moments, being there when they happened, it was both the same and different then the others. Sure you had watched all the others die but Anton's had always stuck with you in a way that was far too painful for someone who you really didn't like. And now the urge to cry was back, you felt your eyes burn with unshed tears that were a culmination of too many of your emotions to name.

Caesar brought a hand to rest on his chin tapping away at it, before he even got the chance to talk your anger had already started to peak "Luminous is right newbie, theres no reason for us to do it, you were already out there and knew the areas that needed to be cleaned. This just seems like a waste of both yours and our time." Yeah, yeah, you seriously contemplated grabbing Caesar by his ponytail and using him as a mop for a second.

"You just cleaning it up would've been more efficient." Johann unhelpfully chimed in. Yeah, maybe you would use Caesar as the mop and Johann as the counter rag.

"Yeah freshie! Everyone knows that newbies do all the grunt work, you can't expect us to do it can you?" Fingers nasally voice made you want to throttle him the more he continued to talk. Sure he may have meant it as a joke but you really weren't at the point of caring. In fact you couldn't care less about anything right now. The anger that had just been building had condensed into a vengeful apathy that demanded the souls of those around you.

Once again Caesar spoke this time however you decided to cut him off. "That's right newbie, using my authority as team leader I order you to-"

"Damn I kinda don't care," You said scratching at the back of your head in an obviously exaggerated way. "Yeah actually..." you started mimicking Caesar's earlier stance, "If you're invoking your team leader rights then I'm invoking my manager rights."

"Hey wait-" Luminous tried to interject.

"Yeah as your manager I order you all to have that throw-up cleaned within the next half an hour." A bit long of a time slot, sure, but really who cares as long as it gets done.

"No way newbie team leaders out rank managers, which means my order still stands." Caesar's stubbornness in this situation could be something to praise if not for the fact that a) you don't care and b) you're two steps away from bringing your thoughts of using him as a mop to fruition.

"Team leaders outrank managers when we're out on the field sure, but right now we're in Takamagahara not battling death servitors, which means your team leader status is moot." You made a slicing motion over your neck. "You may be the leader appointed by the college but right now that means nothing, were not fighting and this isn't reconnaissance, we're working."

"That doesn't change the fact that Caesar is team leader freshman." You can always count on Johann to speak up for what he believes in. Too bad you're not here to praise your upperclassmen but instead get them to work.

"Cool! And I'm still the manager. Right now you all are technically on the clock at Takamagahara which means what I say goes. Caesar may be the team leader and you may be my upperclassmen but that doesn't change the fact that right here right now what I say takes precedence in all matters that aren't dragon related because I'm the ma.ne.ger. " You smile your best costumer service smile and speak in the same tone that you do with costumers when you say this. Then you turn on your heel and walk out calling out behind you that "I expect to not wake up to puke covered floors in the morning! I'm going to bed good night."

And well if Finger chose not to comment on your behavior because he watched you break down in the elevator through the security cameras then that will remain with him. And if Caesar and Johann chose not to speak on it because they heard you sobbing from outside your room that night then thats something that stays between them. And if Luminous caught a glimpse of the empty look in your eyes that night when you left your room for water then he definitely held that as a close secret to his heart. Choosing not to comment on it. And if you noticed that your seniors were just a bit more gentle with you or asked for your input before sending you off on recon missions when they didn't before then you don't comment on it.

#author is tired #dragon raja mc #dragon raja #johann chu #caesar gattuso #luminous lu #fanfic #writing #finger von frings #chime gen #please send me asks

62 notes · View notes

stolenxkissess · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by @repwtation

50 questions you’ve never been asked

1. what is the colour of your hairbrush? Light pink & Grey

2. a food you never eat? Red meat, I’ve hated it since I was little

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? Too warm, I’m always hot

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? Watching isn’t it romantic

5. what is your favourite candy bar? Hershey’s cookie & creme

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event? Yes 3 baseball games and I hate sports 😂

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? Telling my mom I’ll show her a pic of the cat when I get up 😂

8. what is your favourite ice cream? Vanilla or birthday cake

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? Coca-cola

10. do you like your wallet? Yes it’s Harley Quinn themed

11. what was the last thing you ate? Pizza

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? Nope

13. the last sporting event you watched? Don’t watch or like sports

14. what is your favourite flavour of popcorn? Extra butter

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? My bestie alayna

16. ever go camping? Nope, when I was younger my dad said me n my moms idea of camping would be staying in a hotel 😂

17. do you take vitamins? I use to but stopped, it was a daily one and then one for hair,skin & nails

18. do you go to church every sunday? No I probably stopped after I made my communion

19. do you have a tan? No, in the summer I will if we are aloud to go outside by then 🙃

20. do you prefer chinese food or pizza? Pizza, I’m not really a Chinese food person

21. do you drink your soda with a straw? Yes

22. what colour socks do you usually wear? I don’t really wear socks so

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? I don’t know how to drive

24. what terrifies you? Heights, dentists 🤦🏼‍♀️

25. look to your left, what do you see? Tv remote

26. what chore do you hate? Taking the trash out, even more when it’s raining

27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? Liam & Chris Hemsworth😂

28. what’s your favourite soda? Coke or Baja blast mt dew

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thru

30. who’s the last person you talked to? My mom

31. favorite cut of beef? None

32. last song you listened to? Cornelia street

33. last book you read? Fifty shades freed before the movie came out in theaters

34. favorite day of the week? Friday/Sunday when the walking dead is on

35. can you say the alphabet backwards? I think so

36. how do you like your coffee? I hate coffee the smell makes me gag

37. favorite pair of shoes? My flip flops or Taylor keds

38. at what time do you normally go to bed? Usually 1 am but lately 4-5am

39. at what time do you normally get up? When I’m working 8 am & now noon

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? Sunset

41. how many blankets are on your bed? 2 a sheet & a comforter

42. describe your kitchen plates? White with blue flowers on the edges

43. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? Nope I don’t drink

44. do you play cards? Sometimes

45. what colour is your car? Don’t have one but my moms is black

46. can you change a tire? No

47. what is your favourite province? I don’t know

48. favorite job you’ve ever had? I’ve only had 1 job and it’s okay but I start a new one at the end of this month

49. how did you get your biggest scar? So I have 2, one on my knee when I fell in October outside michaels and my knee got all cut up and I had to clean up in the bathroom at the store. Second one on my chin like under my lip but off to the left it was a scab that scarred me

50. what did you do today that made someone else happy? When I sent my best friend some memes lol

tagging: @nowyourdaisies @newrcmantlcs @llondonboy @ciwyw2 @tayloralison @thelasttime @swiftrosegarden

3 notes · View notes

lilshoroscope · 5 years

Text

Hogwarts AU Part 4

Hi my darlings! I’m back with another chapter of my Hogwarts AU!

A big thank you to everyone who has supported this story so far- your likes, reblogs and feedback mean the actual world to me.

Scarlett is based off my bestie: Jenna. I know you ain’t on Tumblr, babe, but I love you xx

Anyway, long story short, this is basically pure fluff.

Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger!

Warnings: Swearing, fluff overload… That’s about it.

Word count: 1247 words. I’M PROUD!

Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!

Ask to be added to my taglist!

---------------------

Brian walked down the hall, the lights around his flickering ominously as he stalked down to Professor McGonagall’s office. He cursed his luck for the umpteenth time that day, muttering under his breath as he glared at the floor. Why detention? It wasn’t his fault that he fell asleep in class! Well…. At least, the class was incredibly boring that day- almost as boring as History of Magic.

He skidded to a stop outside the teacher’s office, composing himself and schooling a look of nonchalance onto his face. He stepped inside, head down in shame as he walked up to the velvet green sofa and sat down.

‘Ah, Mr May. Your detention buddy should be here soon.’ McGonagall quipped, not lifting her head from where she sat, marking a stack of papers.

Brian nodded, internally screaming.

‘I’M HERE, PROFESSOR!’ someone yelled, running into the room like a boggart was on their heels.

McGonagall looked up, sliding her glasses down her nose as she scanned the newcomer up and down.

‘Yes, Miss BlackBlood. How kind of you to show up.’ She deadpanned. Brian lifted his head, taking in the girl. She had long ombre hair, a single scarlet streak standing out. Her blue eyes were like tiny oceans, concealed behind long, thick eyelashes that she batted at the professor. Her Slytherin robes were bunched up and hung loose on her petite body, as if she had thrown them on in a hurry. She oozed chaotic energy, like gasoline thrown on a fire.

‘No Melody today, Scarlett?’ the professor asked, gesturing for the girl- Scarlett- to take a seat. Scarlett dramatically flopped down onto the couch, her head crashing down onto Brian’s lap.

‘Nah, she decided to be a good girl and ditch me for a boy.’ She sighed, completely dismissing that fact that her head rested in a complete strangers lap.

‘Melody? As in Melody Crestthorn?’ Brian interrupted.

‘Yes, Melody Crestthorn. AKA my best friend, partner in crime, and usually my fellow detention buddy. Alas! Today she decided to leave me all on my lonesome, so hands off, mister.’ She giggled.

Brian rolled his eyes, ignoring her last comment. ‘Did Melody say who the boy was?’

‘Apparently he was called Deaky? I dunno.’

‘John Deacon?’ he questioned, his curiosity sparking.

‘The one and only. To be fair, anything’s better than detention.’

A loud cough sounded from the desk. ‘Ahem? Miss BlackBlood, may I remind you that you are in Detention? Trophy Room needs cleaning. Go ask Filch for cleaning stuff. Come back to me when it’s in ship-shape, you two.’ McGonagall snapped, dismissing them with a wave of her hand.

‘Yes SIR!’ Scarlett declared, raising a hand to her brow in mock salute as Brian stalked down the length of her office, pausing to wait for her.

Scarlett ran out after him, jabbering at a million miles per hour as she walked alongside him.

‘So, basically, that’s how Minerva got me a detention for the second time this week- a new record that I, myself, am PROUD of!’ she babbled, absentmindedly fiddling with the hair tie on her delicate wrist.

‘Why do you call Professor McGonagall Minerva?’ Brian asked, slowing his pace so she could keep up.

‘She’s my auntie. Well, Auntie-twice-removed, I think.’

‘Minerva McGonagall is your AUNT? But…. You’re a Slytherin!’ he blurted.

She spun around to face him, her brown and blonde hair flying behind as she flipped him off, sticking her French-manicured nail up in his face.

‘Don’t stereotype, asshole. The hat sorts based on who you are, not your bloodline. Besides, all my family are Slytherins. Aunt-twice-removed, remember? And I bet you’re just the typical Ravenclaw- dull, boring, studious.’ She snapped.

‘Whoa, whoa! I didn’t mean to attack you!’ he defended, stopping in the middle of the deserted hall way and holding his hands out in mock surrender.

‘Good. By the way, I never got your name.’ she said, fiddling with the ends of her hair. He stuck out a hand, smiling.

‘Brian May. You?’

She grinned, taking his hand and shaking it, her pink lips smiling from ear to ear.

‘Scarlett BlackBlood. Awful to meet you, Brian May.’

He laughed. ‘Awful to meet you too, Scarlett BlackBlood.’

She giggled and whipped her hand out of his, running down the empty halls, spreading her arms around. Brian jogged after her, marvelling at how carefree she was.

‘Wait up!’ he called after her, stopping to catch his breath.

‘Nope, not a chance!’ she yelled over her shoulder, skidding to a halt outside the small supply closet. She grabbed some polish and cleaning supplies, babbling away merrily.

‘Do you ever shut up?’ Brian asked as they walked down to the Trophy Room, the only sound being their footsteps and Scarlett’s melodic voice.

‘Nope. Sorry! Look, usually Melody is with me, and she talks even more than me, so get used to it.’ Scarlett laughed, tucking her red streak of hair behind her ear.

Brian nodded, absentmindedly playing with his long dark curls- a nervous habit of his. ‘Hmmm. Do you wanna play 20 Questions?’ he blurted as they halted outside a huge oak door.

She raised an eyebrow, a stray lock of hair framing her heart-shaped face. ’20 Questions?’ she asked in disbelief.

’20 Questions. I mean…. We have to find something to pass the time….’ He stammered, his cheeks flushing tomato red.

‘Sounds good, Curly.’ She laughed, sauntering through the door, whispering a hurried ‘Lumos!’ to make her wand flare up. Brian did the same, thankful for the soft glow of light in the pitch black darkness.

‘Okay, first question, Curly. Where’s the fucking lantern?’

‘Try the shelves, Red. And don’t bump into anything.’ He answered, carefully manoeuvring his long legs around the bottomless black floor.

‘Red? That’s the best you could come up with?’

‘Curly isn’t that original either.’

‘Touche, Touche.’ She muttered, groping around for a lantern. She found it, igniting the wick with a flick of her wand. The light cast a shadow on their faces, the shapes flickering back and forth.

Brian grabbed one of the polishers and set to work, scrubbing furiously and the bronze metal.

‘Okay, Curly, let’s see….. Passion?’

‘Astronomy. Physics. Guitar.’ He blurted, feeling like a complete fool the moment the words left his mouth. ‘Um…. Favourite food?’

‘Anything. I will eat absolutely anything.’

‘Wow.’

They continued asking each other questions, toiling away under the bright lantern and the dim glow of their wands.

‘Okay, um….. Biggest fear?’ Brian asked Scarlett, his gaze dropping to the floor.

‘If I said spiders, would you believe me?’ she whispered, the lamplight seeming to make her look haunted, plagued by things she couldn’t escape.

‘No, not really.’ He answered, setting down the polish.

‘My family.’ She murmured.

‘What? W-’ he asked.

‘Don’t push it, Curly.’ She snapped, turning back to the medallion she was scrubbing, leaving Brian to his own, curious thoughts.

Who was Scarlett BlackBlood? Was there more to her than what met the eye? What was she hiding?

@onceuponadetectivedemigod @shesadramaqueen @ceruleanrainblues @yllwtaxi @avilliansdream @oblivion-queen1 @sophieeelol

62 notes · View notes

ladydisdain81 · 6 years

Text

prompt: Write how someone finally snapped while working in retail and how they became the world’s greatest villain.

(I wish I could find the original post from @writing-prompt-s)

It only took 10 seconds for her to start beating her nails against the glass counter.

She had handed me 20 items to ring up.

Oh goody.

I heard a high pitched shriek from behind her.

Her freakishly blonde child was pulling folded shirts off the tables and dropping them on the floor.

It had taken me an hour to get those table organized.

Every muscle in my body tensed. The center of my chest burned with the desire to scream at the idiot toddler.

I didn't. I needed this job.

I scanned everything as fast as I could.

She held off from sighing loudly for a full minute. I wanted to clap my hands and congratulate her.

Her dumb toddler completed the destruction of one table and moved on to the next.

She didn't even turn her head. She just stared at me.

I kept my lips slightly turned up.

Just scan her shit Kelly, and get her out of here.

“Are you a member of our rewards progr-”

“I don't care about your stupid program!” she snapped.

The burning center grew.

Look lady, I am required to ask every person who buys something in the god-forsaken store about the rewards program. You could just say 'no thank you' instead of snapping at me. Who the hell raised you? I thought.

“Okay,” I said.

I finally finished scanning her crap. I told her the total.

“That's not right. The pants are on sale you idiot.”

I clenched my fist in order to not punch this bitch in the face. I stretched my lips as far as I could.

“I did apply the sale discount to all the applicable items.... ma'am.”

“Then you double charged me!” she shrieked.

I did not need this. I needed this job. But I didn't need this.

“Let me go get my manager.”

I walked away from the counter before she could say anything else and before the urge to shank her with a plastic hanger became too strong.

I heard her son giggle. I did not turn around. I didn't want to see.

I walked into the break room where Tanya was sitting while on her phone.

“Where's Mike?” I asked.

“He's not here,” she said without looking up.

“Then who's the manager today?”

“Deena.”

Oh Christ.

See, if you had a problem with a customer Mike would sort them out and send them on their way. He knew that sometimes people were deranged psychopaths.

But Demon-Bitch Lord was from Corporate. She actually, genuinely, honestly believed the customer was always right.

I took a deep breath, walked over the manager office and knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

Deena didn't talk to us mere plebs. She barked at us.

I poked my head into the office.

“Hi Deena. The customer at the front needs help. She doesn't agree was the total.”

“What did you do wrong?”

I didn't do anything wrong! I scanned the bar code and hit enter. It's not like I can fuck it up.

“I scanned everything and applied all the discounts. She still disagrees.”

As if on cue, “Where is the damn manager?!” drifted back to us.

Demon-Bitch Lord sighed, stood and walked out the customer. I heard her chipperly ask “Hello miss, how can help you?”

I sat down in the break room alone. Tanya had bounced at some point.

I tried to unclench my muscles. I felt like I was collection of springs twisted way too tight. The customer's voice drifted back to me. I couldn't understand what she was saying but the sound grated on my nerves.

Four hours. I only had to be here for 4 more hours. I could totally handle it.

God, I wanted to scream.

Paper bags rustled.

“Ok miss, you have a nice day now,” Deena said.

I forced myself to stand and walk back to the register.

I froze in the doorway. The kid had pulled EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. of the shirts off of the table and left them on the floor. It looked like a tornado had hit the store.

I turned to Deena. She was smiling sweetly at me.

I thought about slamming her head into the register. Repeatedly.

“You're welcome,” she said as walked past me.

I went to stand at counter. I needed a moment to assess the damage. It was almost hard to breathe.

What the fuck was wrong with people?!

I looked down at the register. The women's purchase was still showing. Five of the items had been zero'd out. Meaning she hadn't been charged for them. But my name was still showing as logged in. It looked like I had given away almost 100 bucks worth of stuff.

I turned to Deena who was standing the doorway.

“You didn't log me out,” I said.

“You made me fix your problem.”

“But... it will look like I just gave that stuff away,” I said.

My voice was tightening. My words were short and clipped. My fists trembled at my sides. (My bestie said when I got really pissed I almost sounded British).

If someone reported me then the cost would come out of my paycheck... if I didn't get fired.

If? You mean when. She's going to write that email the second she sits down at her computer.

“But-”

“Look Kelly, I am not in the habit of fixing my employees mistakes. Next time don't double charge.”

“I didn't-”

“Just clean up your mess,” she barked.

Your employees?! My mistakes?! MY MESS?!

“By the way, your request to have Monday off is denied. You are covering Lucy's shift all day.”

“I put in the request 2 weeks ago and I have 2 finals that day-”

She turned and shut the door to the breakroom.

I stood there in shock.

That... BITCH!!!

The burning in the center of my chest expanded. It reached out. It snapped. It broke.

No.

It broke free.

Everything around me became like fire. It wasn't on fire but it moved like it was. The colors whipped back and forth.

I took a step back and my hand landed on the counter.

A black powder like substance made a hand print for a second and then spread. It reminded me of spilled printer toner. Once the entire counter was covered it began to float away like ash from a bonfire caught in a gentle wind.

It was almost... beautiful.

I fucking hated that counter I had to stand at for hours at a time.

Maybe the rest of the store will go too.

The moment I had the thought the powder spread out from me and covered the entire inside of the store.

The ashes gently lifted into the air. Then they became nothing.

The shelves were gone. The walls were gone. I could see the studs and wiring. Better not mess with that. Didn't want to cause a fire.

I wouldn't have minded a fire truthfully. But this was a mall. There was other people here.

Someone screamed.

I turned.

The floating ash had attracted a few people. They were standing in the entrance way. The woman who had screamed had her hand over her mouth. A couple kids were pointing their phones at me.

Oh no, we can't have that, I thought.

Their phones were nothing in moments. Now they screamed. All of them ran.

OK, that had been mean but that was not how I was going to end up on YouTube.

“Kelly! What is-”

Deena walked out and froze. Her eyes went very round in fear, her mouth dropped open and she let out a small squeak.

I don't know what I looked like but I hoped it was terrifying.

I walked towards her. Slowly.

Now she screamed. She tried to back away but instead she tripped and fell on her ass. She waved her hands in front of her as if it would protect her. Tears were running down her cheeks.

Good.

“Now you listen to me, you stuck up bitch,” I hissed.

My voice had a different tone to it. Slightly deeper, more raspy. My words were still short and clipped.

Maybe I would go full British. Wasn't that what super-villains did?

Deena shrank away from. She was whimpering. I felt nothing for her.

“I am not your servant or your scapegoat. If you ever try that shit again with me, I will incinerate you where you stand.”

Deena curled up into a ball as she cried.

I caught a look at myself in the mirror of the breakroom.

There was an... aura all around me. It was like I was made of flame. My hair whipped around my head. My clothes shook and vibrated. But my eyes...

My eyes had gone completely white. They glowed like arcs.

Ok. That's awesome.

I heard more screams from outside what was left of the store.

I needed to leave.

How do I turn this off?

The next instant everything was normal again. Well...

My thing? power? ability? stopped. The store was still trashed.

I stepped over Deena and got my purse from one of the tiny lockers they let us use. I saw the side door to the alley/dumpster was open.

I went out the door. I glanced up and down the alley. No one was there. I turned to my left and headed for the parking lot.

I knew I should scared. Or worried. I had just disintegrated my job. I had threatened my boss. People saw me. It wasn't like I could pretend it hadn't happened. I should be freaking out.

I should not feel relieved. Be damned if that hadn't the most cathartic thing I had ever felt.

There was a man leaning against my car. He wore a simple black 3 piece suit with a white shirt and he was wearing shades. He looked at me as I walked closer.

Normally a situation like this would have scared me. But today? Now?

Nope.

Whatever I had unleashed in the store I could still feel it. It was still there. Swimming under the surface. Waiting.

Waiting to be used. Waiting to be let out.

“Excuse me. That's my car,” I said.

He straightened and took off his sunglasses. He was the most nondescript human being I had ever seen. Dark eyes and hair, yeah. He had features. Nothing about him stood out. He was just... there.

“That was quite a display you put on in there, Kelly.”

How did he know my name?

“Yet for someone just discovering their abilities you should an incredible amount of control.”

“Whatever Agent Smith. I'm going home.”

He moved out out of the way. I opened the driver's side door.

“They are going to know it was you within the hour.”

I stopped.

I could hear sirens in the distance. They were growing louder.

I turned to the man.

“Do you want something from me?” I asked.

“I am part of an agency that employs people like you. I'd like you to introduce you to my boss.”

Several police cruisers screeched into the mall parking lot. They stopped in front of the entrance. At least 5 officers jumped out of the cars with their weapons drawn as they rushed inside.

And still there were more sirens in the distance.

I heard myself ask “Does your boss pay well?”

The man gave a small smile. “Kelly, I promise you, money will the last of your concerns. Ever.”

Black laughter bubbled up and spilled out of me.

“I am so in,” I said.

#my writing #writing-prompt-s #writing prompt #super villain #working in retail #origin story

23 notes · View notes

eccacia · 6 years

Text

wonderful you came by [part 16]

Summary: Caitlin’s a no-nonsense science major. Barry’s the quintessential charming star athlete. When they’re paired off and forced to interact in class, Caitlin’s determined to resist his charms, but Barry’s also pretty determined to get under her skin… It all boils down to a battle between head and heart, and Caitlin’s not one to give in to her heart so easily. [College AU]

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, or read on ff.net

Rating: T

Notes: I know it’s been five months, but… Look! An update! Sorry I’ve been gone awhile. This chapter was tough, life’s been tough, being newly unemployed is tough, etc. etc. Anyway, I miss you all. This is more of a friendship chapter, since I want to wrap up all the loose ends and lay the groundwork for the last plot point. After this, I’m estimating we have 1-2 more chapters to go and then an epilogue (AAAAH! Can you believe it?!) so I hope you’ll stick around. :)

Some shout-outs: To Gaby, as always, for the encouragement, and in celebration of our three-year long friendship on this site. To @panalegs27, for the unwavering enthusiastic support and the messages that make me smile. To @purpleyin, who, to my great surprise and delight, left a review on all my stories and on every chapter in this fic (!!!). To Random Lurker, for leaving such a sweet review; it made my terrible day better. And, last but not the least, to Of Pencils and Penguins (formerly The Pickle System), who beta-read this chapter in a flash (pun fully intended)—he fixed all the pesky grammatical errors, cleaned up my dialogue, and pointed out the scenes that needed tweaking or rewriting. I can’t thank you enough. This chapter won’t be what it is without your help. :)

Disclaimer: Nope, I don’t own The Flash.

Barry parted ways with her outside of her dorm, and as she moved from the open, starry night to the closed, fluorescent-lit hallways of the building to her dark, unoccupied room, unease replaced the earlier sense of lightness she’d felt. She’d been harboring this sense of unease since her fight with Felicity yesterday, but her anxiety about the orals and about Barry had dominated such a large portion of her emotional landscape that this unease had receded into the background.

But now, faced with a Felicity-less room, which had been voided of the sounds of their easy companionship—the scrape of the wheels of her chair against the floor, the quick, light tapping of her fingers on her laptop, the rip of Swiss Miss packets at the end of a long day—Caitlin felt the unease return with a vengeance.

She slumped into her chair. How was it that she managed to push two people who were important to her away in the space of a week? For someone who’d always thought of herself as self-sufficient and fiercely independent, she was realizing how emotionally affected she could be when the relationships in her life went awry.

Well, at least she knew Felicity better than she did Barry. She knew, for instance, that her friend dealt with her hurt by avoiding its cause, and that while she was in this avoidance phase, it was best to give her space. But she also knew that approaching her first was already winning half the battle. So it boiled down to timing—intuiting when enough time had passed since the avoidance started, and intuiting when the best time was to approach her.

It was, she supposed, the same way Felicity would tiptoe around her when she was deep in work mode, hazarding guesses at the best time to disturb her. She had guessed wrong yesterday—had prodded her at the wrong time, in the wrong way—and much to her shame, she had exploded.

She grimaced. She could call Oliver right now to ask if he’d seen her, but she was already so tired. There’d been more emotions packed into this day than she’d had in her entire twenty-something years of existence, and even if some of those emotions were pleasant, she still felt incredibly drained.

Tomorrow, then, she thought, crawling into her bed. She’d apologize tomorrow.

The next day, Caitlin set about to look for her friend in all her usual haunts, but as expected, she couldn’t find her in any of them. She texted Cisco on the off-chance that he’d seen her, but he merely replied with, “? u can call her? and aren’t u roommates” and, a few seconds later, “OH wait r u fighting :( idk where she is bt i hope u make up soon”.

So she had no choice but to give Oliver a call, which, in the first place, had been the most logical thing to do.

…But also the most awkward, because she and Oliver weren’t exactly on calling terms. There was also the fact that she had been staunchly against them when Felicity had really started liking him. Sure, she’d been the one to dare her to talk to him, but she’d done it because she’d believed that her friend had more common sense than to fall for the shallowest rich boy on campus, and because she didn’t think that Felicity was Oliver’s type.

Needless to say, Felicity did not have as much common sense as she’d expected, and Oliver turned out to be decent under his party-boy exterior. While she was right in guessing that Felicity wasn’t his type, she hadn’t guessed that he’d fall for her anyway. He’d liked Felicity so much that, upon sensing Caitlin’s unspoken antagonism, sought to prove all her previous notions of him wrong—he cleaned up his act, stopped flirting with every leggy girl he came across, and stopped hanging out with the shadier cliques in the popular crowd—until she finally came to accept them together.

Still, that didn’t mean they would be besties, or that they’d take to each other the same way Felicity had taken to Digg and Barry and Tommy and the rest of Oliver’s friends. They were content to regard each other with civility.

Which brought her back to her current dilemma: She and Oliver were civil, but not on calling terms.

She sighed. Well, it wasn’t like she had much of a choice. They would have to be on calling terms now if they both cared about Felicity.

Having decided on her course of action, she sent him a short text to ask when he was free to take a call. His answer was immediate: “Now is good.” He picked up on the first ring.

“Hey. You’re looking for Felicity?” he said.

Well, if there was one thing Caitlin respected him for, it was his propensity for cutting right to the chase.

“Yes,” she said. “Did she stay over at your place?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But she left for class this morning, and she hasn’t been back yet. I thought she’d headed to the dorm.”

Caitlin frowned. “Well… she’s definitely not here.”

“Oh.” There was a pause. “She’s… been really down the past few days,” he ventured tentatively. “Said something about this being a replay of sophomore year, but didn’t go into the specifics.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Care to elaborate?” His tone was careful. “I mean, when my girlfriend and one of my best friends share a bottle of Smirnoff from my bar because of the same person, I feel like I deserve an explanation from the said person.”

Caitlin winced. “Can said person just buy you another bottle of Smirnoff instead?”

“Nice try,” he said wryly. “Spare me the details with Barry, I know way too much already. I just want to hear about the whole… sophomore year thing. If… that’s okay. She—she usually tells me everything, and I can’t—I don’t know how to talk to her if she doesn’t—talk. To me.”

When he said those last two sentences, Oliver sounded as if he was having a nail extracted for every word he spoke. She could almost see his grimace deepening the more he talked. Strangely enough, it comforted her, because this was something she could identify with. He was nearly as emotionally stunted as she was, stripped of that glamorous façade, and she imagined that she had the same expression that he had now whenever she talked about her feelings. Granted, this was the same reason they couldn’t be friends, and were instead friends with people like Felicity and Barry who were so open about their feelings that they were practically begging to be taken advantage of, but still. This kind of kinship was also comforting. Painfully awkward, but comforting.

So Caitlin took a deep breath and proceeded to tell him about sophomore year—the year they had their first real fight as friends.

It happened towards the end of their first term as sophomores. She’d been swamped with so many requirements and had been putting so much pressure on herself that she’d turned down all of Felicity’s invitations to parties, dinners, and even their hallowed Sunday lunches. Sometimes she didn’t even bother to acknowledge her in the room, because she didn’t want a break in her concentration. This went on for a month, until Felicity gave up trying to talk to her altogether. She avoided all their usual haunts and materialized in their room only to sleep. It was a miserable few months for both of them (and for Cisco, who’d shuttled back and forth between them), and it went on for as long as it did because, ironically, it had been easier to keep snubbing each other than to break their deadlock.

“Eventually, I just swallowed my pride and just went up to her during lunch. And even before I said anything, she burst out crying and hugged me,” Caitlin said.

He chuckled. “That sounds like her.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” she said. She decided to leave out the embarrassingly sappy things they told each other that time, like when Felicity told her, in between hiccups, You know, real talk—I’d get over a breakup with a guy faster than a breakup with you. Like, a friend break-up. Because guys are so… replaceable, you know? And there’s only one of you, and… where’ll I ever find another Caitlin Snow?

She didn’t think Oliver would respond favorably to that.

After their tearful reunion, though, they’d implicitly agreed never to talk about that time again. It seemed they both knew that the smooth continuation of their friendship hinged on completely burying that hatchet. So Felicity continued to tiptoe around her when she was busy, and continued to clam up when she was hurt. Maybe that was why she thought that her recent blow-up was an echo of sophomore year.

“She’s in Jitters, by the way,” Oliver said. “She told me not to tell you, but I don’t like seeing her miserable, and I don’t think I’m the person to cheer her up.”

“Oh,” she said. “Um, thanks.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Just… go talk to her. And make sure that she doesn’t steal too many drinks from my bar.”

Her lips lifted into a small smile. “The former, I can promise. The latter, not so much.”

. . .

In a way, it made sense that Felicity was at Jitters. Since she knew that Caitlin was avoiding Barry, and that Barry frequented Jitters, then she must have thought that there was a good chance that Caitlin would also avoid Jitters.

It didn’t take long to spot Felicity’s messy high ponytail in the crowd, and she was so deeply absorbed in her work that she didn’t even feel her approach.

“Hey,” Caitlin said, touching her shoulder, and Felicity immediately startled in her seat.

“Oh my God! Don’t scare me like th—”

When she saw it was her, though, she schooled her expression into a neutral one. The change was so dramatic that it unnerved her.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” God, she was terrible at this. “Can I… Is this seat taken?”

“No.”

This was agonizing. Any dim hope she’d harbored of this being like their first make-up was quashed.

“Felicity,” she said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

Silence. And then, “Okay.”

“Okay as in…?”

She shrugged. “It’s fine.”

It was decidedly not fine. Felicity was not as adept at hiding her emotions as she thought, because Caitlin could see her trying to hide them. “Felicity…”

Silence. And then, softly, “I’ve been tiptoeing around you for years, did you know that?” she said. “No, wait—you probably never noticed, but I’ve been doing it since we started rooming together. Since our first year. When things would get busy—for both of us, not just for you—you would transform into this ticking time bomb. One wrong move on my part, and you’d explode.”

Caitlin sat very still. “I… never knew,” she said. “It’s just…”

She trailed off. She was about to say that it was a bad habit she’d picked up from her father, who’d regarded disturbances—a category which even his young, too-inquisitive daughter and his flaky wife fell into—with murderous intent, so everyone had always adjusted to him without question or complaint. But this sounded like an excuse, and in a rare flash of human insight, Caitlin saw that an excuse wouldn’t save their friendship.

So she held her tongue.

Felicity continued, “Every time you get like that, I have to worry about how to get you to eat and function like a normal human being without risking our friendship. Do you know how tiring that gets?”

Caitlin exhaled. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I never meant you to feel like…” She paused to gather the right words. “Like I’d only be friends with you if you never made me mad.”

“Yeah, but that’s how you come off sometimes,” Felicity said. “Would it hurt to say, ‘Hey, Felicity, I’m really stressed and I don’t want to talk about it now’? It’s not hard. I mean, I let you know when I’m about to binge-code so you’d know better than to expect me to clean my part of the room for the rest of the week.”

“Or shower, for that matter,” Caitlin couldn’t help saying. When she realized her misstep she quickly amended it with, “Sorry—”

“God, not relevant, Cait,” Felicity said.

“Sorry,” Caitlin said. She’d unknowingly slipped back into their usual easy banter at the worst possible time. “Sorry.”

Her friend’s expression was now shuttered, and Caitlin had the sinking feeling that she’d blown her attempt at reconciliation.

The silence stretched between them.

“Felicity,” she finally said, unable to bear it, “I’m sorry, I really am. Please don’t shut me out.”

“Oh, you mean like what you do to me?”

Caitlin winced. The accusation rang so true that it hurt. The silence grew more and more tense the longer those words hung in the air, and she frantically reached for something appropriate to say.

“I… It… was wrong of me… to do that to you,” she said quietly. “You didn’t deserve any of it.” A pause. “I’ve been an asshole friend. I’m sorry.”

Felicity fiddled with the keys of her laptop. She gave no indication of having heard her.

A crazy sense of desperation seized her. She felt like she would do anything—anything—to get Felicity to talk to her, anything to draw her out of that damning silence… It made her more painfully aware that this was the same emotional distress she put Felicity (and Barry, for that matter) through whenever she gave her the cold shoulder. She would never do this again, she thought vehemently. She would never make her friends—her best friend—feel this shitty ever again, if said best friend would still care to talk to her. No wonder Felicity had burst out crying last time the moment she approached… Any move to break this kind of silence would have brought on waves of delirious relief.

Felicity continued fiddling with her keys. She uncrossed her legs. She leaned back against her chair. She let out a breath, and since it was so quiet between them, Caitlin could tell that this breath was a beat longer than was normal.

Felicity seemed to be on the verge of speaking. Caitlin braced herself.

“You’re not an asshole friend,” she finally said. She still wasn’t looking at her, but at least she was talking to her. She was talking to her. “You just… revert to assholic behavior when stressed.”

Caitlin held her breath. That was it. That was Felicity’s olive branch. She would have sagged in her seat from sheer relief, but she had to play this right.

“Assholic behavior,” she said carefully.

“What, you’re not used to Feliciticisms yet?” her friend said, finally looking at her. A small smile stretched across her face.

Caitlin blinked. She smiled. Definitely a good sign. Definitely a sign to play along, to ease back into the usual banter of their friendship. “I still can’t figure out how you say that,” she said. “Felicisms would have been a lot easier on the tongue.”

“Yes, but I’m a Felicity, not a Felici,” she said. “Although, come to think of it, Felici sounds a lot chicer.”

“True.” Caitlin paused and took a risk. “Probably why it doesn’t suit you.”

“Hey. You were the one who proposed Felicism.”

She tried to contain her smile. “Because it would be easier to pronounce, not because you look like a Felici.”

“Same banana.”

“No, they’re not. And for the record, there are more than 1,000 discovered varieties of bananas in the world.”

“Okay, just, no,” Felicity said. “How do you even know stuff like that?”

“The same way you know who invented ramen.”

“Technically, Momofuku Ando invented instant noodles, not…” She trailed off. “…Right. Point taken.”

Caitlin nodded. “The internet is a dark place.”

“Ah, yes. Two young, impressionable women frequenting websites with lurid pictures of bananas and noodles—positively scandalous.”

They shared a smile.

“Just… give me that heads-up, okay?” Felicity said, sobering. “So I know how to help you. Like how you fix my bed and buy me takeout when I’m binge-coding, or how you let me interrupt you to whine about how hard troubleshooting a faulty segment is. Even if you have zero idea of what I’m talking about.”

“Okay,” Caitlin said. She would’ve agreed to anything at this point. “I can’t promise I’ll always be able to do it, but I’ll try. I’ll really try.”

“You better,” Felicity said, grinning. “We’ve been friends for almost seven years. I’d say it merits some amount of trying.”

“Well, seven years is only slightly longer than some marriages, after all. I can manage more than some amount of trying.”

Felicity’s smile softened. “So. Friends?”

“Friends,” she affirmed. “Seven years and counting.” She paused. “I think we’re supposed to hug at this point, but can I just give you a mental hug? I’ve reached my sappiness limit for the day.”

Felicity laughed. “Mental hug accepted. I knew there was something weird about you today.”

“Well, I was apologizing to you. I had to summon the appropriate amount of sappiness.”

“Have you been manipulating me with sappiness?”

“I wouldn’t call it manipulation,” Caitlin said primly. “It’s more like scheduling sappiness usage for a rainy day.”

“By scheduling sappiness,” Felicity said, her smile turning wicked, “do you also mean the Saturday night you spent with a certain Bartholomew Henry Allen under the stars?”

“That was an unscheduled and unintentional leakage of sappiness,” Caitlin said. “And how much do you already know, anyway?”

“Only that you kissed,” Felicity said with feigned nonchalance. “No big deal. It was only your first kiss, after all, which you kept a secret for almost a week from your best friend, your companion since girlhood, the sister of your heart—”

“Are you done with the melodramatics?” she said dryly.

“—oh, wait, I’ll have to call Cisco and Jax,” Felicity said, pulling her phone out. “They need to hear this. It’s more time-efficient, too, since you’ll only have to tell the story once.”

“Time-efficient,” Caitlin repeated. “You’re talking to me about time efficiency.”

“Yeah. What, think I haven’t learned a thing or two about your reasoning after seven years of being the foremost Caitlin Snow scholar? Although,” she mused, “it looks like I’ll soon have to relinquish that title soon, since a certain Barry Allen is proving to be a quick study—”

“Felicity, you’re rambling,” Caitlin said.

“That was hardly—oh, fine, calling them…”

“Can you tell them that we’ll meet in front of the library instead?” Caitlin said, casting a furtive glance around them. “Jitters is kind of—”

“His turf, right,” Felicity said. “Got it.” She tucked her phone between her ear and shoulder, and slipped her laptop into her bag. “Hey Cisco, any chance you’re free now…?”

. . .

“Ola, ladies,” Cisco said, making his way to their table with his usual grin. Even from afar, they heard him coming by the tinkle of the many keychains he’d hung all over his backpack. “Glad to see you two have reconciled. I thought I’d have to be your messenger again or something.”

“Yeah, well,” Felicity said. “Signs of maturity, I guess.”

“Boring,” Cisco said. “In a good way, I mean. No one needs drama all the time, am I right?”

“You sure? Because Caitlin has a lot of drama to tell.”

“Oooh, saucy. You sure are getting a lot of drama lately, come to think of it,” Cisco said. “Where was all this in high school? And in the last, I don’t know, two years in college—”

“I don’t know, Cisco, I don’t think one can space out the dramatic events in one’s life—”

“Rhetorical question, chica,” he said breezily, waving a hand. “I’m sure you know what that is—”

“What’s up, guys?” Jax said, sliding into the seat beside Cisco. He pocketed his phone and dropped his duffel bag to the ground. “Is this an update on Barry or what?”

“Well,” Caitlin said, “somewhat.”

“I am so excited,” Felicity said. “I can’t wait to hear your version of the kiss.”

“THE KISS?!” Cisco gaped. “Whoa, okay, slow down, this is too much—”

“I… haven’t even started yet…”

“Her version?” Jax interjected, looking at Felicity. “What other version is there?”

“Dude,” Cisco said. “I can’t believe that’s what you fixated on.”

“I heard it first from Barry,” Felicity said, waving a hand. “Anyway, long story, and not exactly relevant—”

“Not exactly rele—Felicity, what was his version?” Caitlin said suddenly. “What did he tell you?”

“Oh, pretty vague stuff,” she said. “Mostly it was about you breaking his heart.”

Cisco blinked. “Is it just me, or are things moving way too fast?”

“Last I heard you weren’t even sure if he liked you,” Jax said, also confused, “and now you already broke up? And if you”—he gestured to Felicity—“and Barry’re tight, why didn’t you just ask him for advice, instead of asking us?”

“Well,” Felicity mused, “a little Smirnoff goes a long way in solidifying friendships…”

“She and Barry shared a bottle of vodka between them the other night,” Caitlin clarified. “Well, technically, it was Oliver’s vodka, but anyway.”

“Dang,” Jax said. “Any chance I can get an invite to one of those in the future?”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to hang out at Oliver’s pad again,” Cisco said wistfully. “That sound system is to die for…”

“Wait,” Felicity said suddenly, turning to her, “that’s how you knew where to find me—you called Oliver and Oliver told you, that traitor—”

“Yes?” Caitlin said. “You thought I just guessed?”

“Well, I didn’t really—okay, never mind, we’re getting way off topic. So, Cait, tell us what happened last Saturday.”

“We all saw the sing-off,” Cisco said smugly. “And boy, you owe me big time for that—”

“It would’ve been better if you’d given me more drinks,” she muttered. “No chance kissing him if I’d passed out.”

Cisco ignored her. “—and we saw you slow-dancing to that weird Despacito remix,” he said. “Well, Felicity and I did. Jax probably didn’t.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah, to fill you in, they slow-danced to a Despacito remix.”

He gave Cisco a withering look. “Yeah, I grasped the concept, thanks.”

“You’re caught up, then,” Caitlin said, pleased. “So after the slow-dancing, we went up to the balcony—”

“The one for VIPs?” Jax said.

“Yes, the one for VIPs,” she said. “Anyway, I was slightly tipsy. As a result of faulty judgment, I leaned in to kiss him. I quickly realized it was a mistake, so I left and ignored him for a week. But we made up again just yesterday, so everything’s fine now.”

Silence.

“You know, you gotta brush up on your storytelling skills,” Cisco said.

“For a moment there I thought I was listening to a weather report,” Jax said.

“Well,” Caitlin bristled, “it’s not exactly something I want to recount in detail, so—”

“How did it happen? How did you let it happen? What did you feel?” Cisco insisted, accompanying his words with hand gestures. “What did he do? What did he say? What did you say? What were you thinking?”

“As I’ve already mentioned, I wasn’t thinking—”

“Okay, I think we’re overwhelming her,” Felicity said. “Cisco, ask her something again, only one question at a time.”

“Oh! Oh! I’ll start with this one,” Cisco said. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking this, but I am way curious, so here goes.” He took a deep breath. “Was there tongue?”

Caitlin squirmed. “Oh my God—”

“OH MY GOD,” Cisco said. “OH MY GOD, THERE WAS, WASN’T THERE?”

“OH MY GOD,” Felicity said. “THERE WAS, CISCO, THERE WAS—”

“…The hell is going on?” Jax said. “She hasn’t answered the question yet—”

“If you’re fluent in Caitlin,” Felicity explained, “you’d know that if it isn’t a direct no, then it’s a definite yes.”

“Huh,” Jax said.

“Damn,” Cisco said to Caitlin admiringly. “So you’ve finally lost your tongue-ginity. Welcome to the club.”

Jax scrunched his brow. “I never signed up for that.”

“Did we ever make that a thing?” Felicity said. “I don’t think we ever made that a thing…”

“We totally did. We made it a thing in high school, when I was with Kendra, remember? After we made out in the—”

“Okay, stop,” Felicity said. “I vaguely remember you breaking down that make-out scene, and I don’t want to remember more.”

“I second the motion,” Caitlin said.

“Third,” Jax piped up.

“Fine, this is Caitlin’s show anyway,” Cisco said good-naturedly. “It’s your turn to give us details.”

“No.”

They were all unfazed. “Did he lean in first?” Felicity said. “Or did you?”

Caitlin paused to consider it. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I think we—it was done at the same time.”

“And it lasted for some time,” Cisco prompted, “since there was tongue.”

“Well, it wasn’t unpleasant,” she hedged, “so we were there for some time, but I was the one who put an end to it.”

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Jax said. “You guys made out and you were really into it, but for some reason, you walked away and ignored him after that.”

“…It doesn’t sound very nice if you put it that way, but yes, basically…”

“What made you ignore him?” Felicity said. Caitlin recognized this voice—it was the one her friend used when she wanted to steer the discussion into a more serious direction. “I’d always assumed that he said something stupid, but…”

“Well,” Caitlin said, “he mentioned that we’ve only known each other two weeks.”

“Which is true,” Cisco said.

“Yes, I know,” she said. “Still, I lost it. I just didn’t think that it was possible—for me, at least—to like someone in such a short time. I was scared of it, of myself, so… I ran away. Ignored him. Pretended like ignoring him could reset me to before I met him.”

There was a pause as the statement hung in the air. It was perhaps the most honest she’d been since last week’s debacle, and they seemed to feel it, too.

“Okay, since things are getting serious,” Cisco said, standing up, “anyone want some food? Nachos, maybe?”

“Dude,” Jax said. “Way to ruin a moment—”

“No, I’m pretty sure Cait doesn’t want to talk about her feelings on an empty stomach,” he said, grinning at her. “Just like how you won’t study chemistry on an empty stomach.”

Caitlin smiled. “It’s fine, Jax. Nachos with beef and bacon bits please.”

“And extra cheese,” Felicity piped in.

“And Diet Coke with no ice,” Caitlin said.

“Same, but with ice and no straw for me,” Felicity said. “Save the environment and all.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill,” Cisco said. “Hey, man, how about you?”

Jax looked at them. “You guys are hella weird.”

“But?” Cisco prompted cheekily.

He shrugged. “You’re not bad.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Barry does this thing where I’m not sure if he’s complimenting or insulting me,” Caitlin said. “Is that an athlete thing?”

“Way to stereotype us,” Jax said. “And I’m pretty sure that’s called a backhanded compliment.”

Caitlin snapped her fingers. “I knew there was a word for it…”

Cisco went to buy their snacks, and when he came back, the conversation—even with nachos and the best of intentions (particularly Felicity’s)—didn’t quite stay on track. It was, as usual, one-part insight and three-parts insanity, but Caitlin didn’t mind. It was good to be in their company again.

When Monday came around, Caitlin had the uncanny feeling, as she walked out of her dorm, that she was being stared at.

It wasn’t something she realized right away. After all, she’d spent most of her formative years in a state of near-invisibility. The only exception to that was when teachers announced the highest score in class (which, in science subjects, would almost invariably be her) and she would, for a few minutes, be the spotlight of the everyone’s awe and envy. But after class, she drew no more stares, elicited no more whispers. Smart wasn’t as valuable a currency as pretty or sporty was in high school, and she was perfectly content with that, as she never had to expend energy with the sort of self-conscious thinking that came with assuming that her peers were interested in her.

But today, something strange happened. As she walked down the near-deserted hallway of her dorm—it was still early, and the lone souls who were already awake walked around like zombies in their bubbles of half-sleep—she registered the sound of voices in the early morning hush. Out of idle curiosity, she looked around until she found the source of the whisperings—a group of five freshmen, two of whom quickly turned away when her gaze settled on them.

She blinked, wondering if she’d imagined it, and then concluded that she must have. Freshmen, she thought, were especially prone to sticking in groups like that and over-sharing noisily, in hopes that it might translate into friendship.

But then it happened again. When she passed by two more groups of girls outside the dorm and sensed the tickle of whispers in her wake, she wondered if maybe her intuition was right. It was disturbing to suspect that one was the topic of someone else’s conversation without knowing what, exactly, was being said, and without having the means to confront them about it.

So it was when, upon reaching the foyer and seeing Eliza and Bette deep in conversation before abruptly falling quiet when she approached, she narrowed her eyes and said, “Not you, too.”

Bette raised a brow. “Hi, Caitlin.”

Eliza said, “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

Caitlin sighed and took her seat across them. With a cursory look, she ascertained that three of the boys from her block were there—no sign of Hartley yet—along with two other people from Applied Chemistry (or was it Chemical Engineering? She could never really keep track). Most of them were half-asleep, using their backpacks to pillow their faces from the cool granite surface of the tables.

“Sorry,” she sighed. “I’ve been having this strange sensation this morning that people have been talking about me. Paranoid, I know—”

Eliza and Bette exchanged glances. Like she and Felicity, the two had been friends for so long that they seemed to be able to communicate just by looking at each other.

Caitlin was immediately suspicious. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Eliza said innocently.

“That look you just shared. It’s suspicious.”

Bette, who was usually quiet and stoic—even more than she was, probably because she was always with the animated Eliza—said, amused, “Aren’t we allowed to look at each other?”

“I think we’re allowed to a few secrets,” Eliza added with a sly smile, “since you’ve obviously been keeping yours.”

Caitlin paused. She knew that these girls meant well—they had a pleasant relationship formed on the basis of their being stranded together in a testosterone-dominated course—but she wasn’t comfortable divulging her feelings to them in the way she had with Felicity, Cisco, and Jax. They were the kind of friends she’d complain on coursework with, not the ones she’d have a heart-to-heart with.

She said cautiously, “If this was about the sing-off…”

“Oh, the sing-off was last week’s news,” Eliza said.

“It’s already been dissected to death while you weren’t around,” Bette said, with an apologetic smile. “It’s common knowledge now that you’re Barry Allen’s new girl.”

Caitlin blinked, feeling strangely violated—or rather erased—by the term. “Okay, no,” she said. “First of all, I am not ‘Barry Allen’s new girl.’ I’m me. I’m still the same Caitlin Snow majoring in Molecular Biology with you.”

“Right, of course,” Eliza said, smiling at her while propping her face up in cupped hands. “But it’s already pretty obvious to everyone that you two are a thing.”

“We’re not…” Caitlin trailed off when she realized she didn’t have anything to say to that, because what were they? They hadn’t gone out on a date yet, so they weren’t dating, but they weren’t a thing, either. Or… were they? In the first place, why in the world did people invent a term as vague as ‘a thing’ anyway? What spectrum of togetherness did ‘a thing’ encompass? And why was it that even before she and Barry had defined what they were to themselves, other people were already clamoring to define their relationship with nosy collective authority? Couldn’t they just mind their own business and leave a budding romantic relationship unlabeled?

Caitlin resisted the urge to press a hand to her temple. She couldn’t deal with this. It was too early in the morning to puzzle out the confusing semantics of human romantic entanglements.

Instead, she said, “Never mind. Second of all, last week’s news? Was there news this week involving him and me that I, of all people, wouldn’t know of?”

“Oh, I’m sure you know this,” Eliza said, giving her an enigmatic look. Caitlin felt like that look was her cue to spill what she apparently knew, but since she didn’t know anything, she remained quiet.

“If you’ll remember,” Eliza went on, when her pause became awkward, “there was a commotion last night at the dorm. Specifically, outside our wing.”

“What commotion?” Caitlin said, furrowing her brow.

Now, Eliza and Bette exchanged looks that were as bewildered as hers.

“You mean you really didn’t hear the commotion?” Bette said.

“No,” Caitlin said. “Should I have?”

“Oh my God, she has no idea,” Eliza said. “One of the hottest guys on campus is courting her—”

“Courting—of all the sheer nonsense—”

“—and she doesn’t have a clue,” Eliza finished.

“That is ridiculous,” she said. “I don’t know what commotion you’re talking about, but he’s not courting me. All I know is that he left a note on my window with ‘Good morning’ written on it.”

That was the abbreviated version. The full version was as follows:

Good morning :) I know, I know, when I walked you back, you said one week of no texts or calls or voicemails, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t say anything about sticky notes on windows. I’m kind of a pain in the ass, as you can see, aside from being a mildly annoying campus cutie and an insatiable hug monster (only for your hugs, though). Just so you know what you might be getting into. Anyway, I lost my main point for this note sometime after the smiley. I think I was supposed to write a poem, but I got sidetracked, and now I don’t have enough space. Well, I’ll find my main point tomorrow. In the meantime, ‘I miss you’ is probably enough. Can’t wait for Saturday. – Barry

“Mmm,” Bette said. “So you’re telling me that clambering up two floors of the girls’ dorms in the middle of the night, with a bouquet of flowers, a gift, and a note in hand, doesn’t qualify as courting?”

“A bouquet of flowers? How is that even—”

“At first I thought it was Cisco,” Eliza said, “because he visits your room sometimes, right, and he always makes so much noise. But when I opened my window to tell him to tone it down, guess who I saw instead?”

“Oh, by the way, here you go,” Bette said, pulling a single, long-stemmed rose from her backpack and handing it to a dazed Caitlin. “Half of the flowers were crushed during his climb,” she added, by way of explanation. “The others that weren’t crushed lost too many petals. This was the only proper rose left.” She pushed a box towards her. “Also, a gift from him. Said it was fragile.”

“He was supposed to sneak the stuff into your room,” Eliza said, “but he didn’t know that your window would be locked. Obviously he didn’t think things through.”

“Yeah, he also wrote his note on the wrong side of the post-it. We had to give him tape so he could stick the written portion against the glass facing your bed,” Bette said.

“Oh, and to clarify, we”—Eliza said, gesturing to the two of them—“weren’t the ones who gave him tape. Someone from the room below did.”

“It became a sort of group effort,” Bette said.

“Although his best friend—can’t remember her name, the one who wrote that article about sexism on campus—”

“Iris West,” Bette said.

“Right, her. She clearly didn’t support it,” Eliza said. “Stormed out of the dorm when she caught wind of what was happening just to tell him that he was an idiot.”

“She wasn’t yelling, but it was so quiet out there that people could hear what she was saying, anyway.”

“Good thing our dorm mom sleeps like a log.”

“Yeah, and good thing everyone loves Barry, so no one’ll tell on him…”

“It’s really strange that you didn’t hear anything,” Bette said, looking puzzled. “He made so much noise.”

It wasn’t all that strange. She and Felicity slept through the commotion courtesy of the remaining contents of the Smirnoff that she’d brought back from her drinking session with Barry.

“Hello, ladies,” came a voice that Caitlin knew all too well. “Finally got to interrogate her, huh? Do I finally get my—is that a rose? Why the hell do you have a rose?”

“Language, Hartley,” Bette said. “As you can see, the subject is still in shock.”

“The rose is from Allen, isn’t it?” Hartley said, scoffing. “Jesus, how predictable. Even I can tell you aren’t the roses kind.”

“Thank you for your valuable input, Hartley,” Eliza said. “Why don’t you run along now and compare notes with Barry, since you’re such an expert on Caitlin’s botanical preferences?”

“Dial down the bitchiness, sweetheart,” Hartley said. “It’s not even nine yet.”

“The rose isn’t the worst of it, really,” Bette said.

“Oh?” Hartley said gleefully, smirking and pulling up a chair from the other table, seeing as Caitlin’s backpack was still occupying the space beside her. “Do tell. Does the worst of it have something to do with this box?”

Caitlin finally snapped out of the daze she was in. She was having difficulty processing all… this. She needed another coffee. Maybe three. “I’m having difficulty imagining how he moved from the staircase to the window holding all this…”

“He had the bouquet in his mouth,” Eliza said.

Hartley’s brows shot up. “What,” he said, “the fuck?”

“What he said,” Caitlin muttered.

“She was kidding,” Bette said, giving Eliza a stern look. “He had a canvas bag.”

Eliza laughed. “Fine, but you have to admit you can totally imagine it.”

Hartley rolled his eyes. “I actually find it more unlikely that he had the foresight to bring a bag.”

“Well, are you going to open it?” Eliza said, gesturing to the box. “Bette and I have been dying to see what’s inside.”

Caitlin gave them a look, and Eliza said, “Hey, you can’t blame us. We’ve been safekeeping it for the last seven hours.”

“This really is beneath me,” Hartley said casually, “but I am curious to see what sort of disgustingly sentimental gift he got you. Gifts are a reflection of the giver, as someone once said. Can’t remember who it was, though…”

“You know, you can admit you’re curious without having to insult anyone,” Caitlin said.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he smirked. “Well? Are you opening it or not? We don’t have all day, Frosty.”

Caitlin sighed and relented, if only out of weariness. She opened the box without ceremony—there was no wrapper so she simply had to lift the flap—and peered inside. Three other heads neared to peer in, too.

It was a cactus.

On the flap, it said, I already got the roses when I saw this, but this is way better. You’re more of a cactus person, I think. ;) – Barry

Hartley barked a laugh. “I take it back. Allen is a fucking genius.”

“I don’t know,” Bette said dubiously. “It sounds like an insult.”

“It’s definitely an insult,” Eliza said. “You’re more of a cactus person—does that mean you have the qualities of a cactus?”

“He’s not wrong,” Hartley said. “Caitlin’s botanical identity aside, though,” he added, “everyone still owes me money, because she obviously accepted his advances…”

Caitlin, on her part, had already tuned them out. Barry Allen was a hopeless romantic and a complete idiot, and he also possibly had a screw or two loose, but he meant well, and he really and truly seemed to like her, and he was…

He was hers to like back.

Still, he had to stop climbing walls in the middle of the night to give her… whatever else he was planning on giving her. She had no clue about what courtship entailed, but she was sure that it didn’t have to be as life-threatening as he made it seem.

Caitlin didn’t think to approach him right away about this, though, because she didn’t think he’d be sending any more gifts her way. She thought he would have desisted with the flowers and the cacti, opting to leave only sticky notes instead.

She was wrong.

Well, not exactly. The next day, she did receive another note on her window, but she also received a heart-shaped box of chocolates and another cactus (both delivered by Cisco). This was puzzling, because she had no use whatsoever for a heart-shaped box, and she had no strong feelings about chocolates. Not that she didn’t like chocolates, per se; she’d just never particularly craved for them or sought them out. She didn’t want them to go to waste, though, so she ate two or three pieces before welcoming Cisco and Jax to finish up the rest.

This, surely, she thought, would be the end of it. Surely he knew that giving her gifts every single day until Saturday, for no particular reason and with no particular occasion, was an absurd and costly enterprise.

But she was wrong again. On Wednesday, she received the requisite note on her window and a teddy bear named Beary—See what I did there? ;) he’d said in his note—sporting a cactus pin. (She must’ve forgotten to lock her window last night after Cisco and Jax had left, so he was able to slip them onto her bedside table.) Now, if the chocolates were mildly puzzling, the teddy bear was downright bewildering, because she had given up stuffed animals altogether at the age of five, when her father had introduced her to illustrated encyclopedias. If she had no use for a teddy bear back at five years old, she had even less use of it now at twenty-one. She was aware that it was common for other couples to give each other stuffed animals, but that was other couples. For some reason, other couples found it cute to give their significant others a reminder of a more infantile period in their lives. Or perhaps the intention was for the recipient to endow the inanimate object with some of the partner’s qualities, so that it could serve as a reminder of the partner when he or she was away…

This was all just conjecture, of course. She’d never quite understood it. Even now that she herself was the recipient of a stuffed animal, she still didn’t understand what she was supposed to do with it.

To be fair, Barry didn’t know that she didn’t particularly care for chocolates or for stuffed animals. But perhaps that was the point—he didn’t know what she liked, and had simply assumed she would enjoy this standard romantic fanfare.

This brought to mind something Hartley had said the other day, about gifts being a reflection of the giver. Irritating as he was, she had to agree with his assessment: These gifts were less a reflection of her than they were a reflection of Barry. They conveyed the sincerity of his intentions well enough, but they also conveyed a startling lack of knowledge of who she was.

Well, not exactly. She did enjoy the sticky notes, and the cactus symbolized an inside joke that only the two of them shared and understood. Everything else, though, puzzled her.

She didn’t want to discard them, because that would mean discarding Barry’s feelings, too. (And, on an aside, Beary seemed to grow cuter the longer she looked at it [him?], which made her more reluctant to discard it [him?]. She made a mental note to Google the evolutionary value of cuteness even in lifeless objects.) But at the same time, the sole function of the rose, the chocolates, and the bear was to convey Barry’s intentions, which had been fulfilled the moment she’d received the gifts. Ergo, she no longer had any use for them. Was she obliged to keep these things around as relics of his affection for her? Then again, she knew that he liked her anyway, so why did she need all these things to remind her of it?

She frowned. She was trapped in a symbolic deadlock. Clearly when she confessed to him she didn’t foresee that things would become this complicated—and this when they weren’t even ‘a thing’ yet…

She sat back to view the gifts on her now-crowded bedside table and considered her situation. The most obvious course of action was to tell him to stop giving her gifts, but she could already tell that it would hurt him. But she also couldn’t think of a nice way to say it. The truth—“Please stop giving me gifts, I appreciate the sentiment but I find them useless” was too harsh, while a white lie like “I don’t have space to put them anymore” was too unconvincing. She could give him a list of what she liked, but she didn’t want to make it seem like she was asking for more gifts. Then again, she could inform him that she simply didn’t make a fuss about gifts, but clearly he made a fuss about gifts, so…

Great, she was back to her earlier deadlock.

Maybe it was time to call a friend. Felicity might know what to do. And, even if she didn’t, she might know how to soften a sentence like “Please stop giving me gifts, I appreciate the sentiment but I find them useless.”

Right, talk to Felicity it was, then.

. . .

On her way out of her room, though, something unusual happened: She bumped into Iris West.

The fact that Iris was here on her floor was already unusual in itself. Iris lived two or three floors above her, and she didn’t seem to have close friends residing on the second floor, so Caitlin had never actually seen her in this hallway.

The second unusual thing was that Iris was alone. Caitlin may have only glimpsed her on campus a few times, but she had no recollection of Iris being alone��she was always either surrounded by her friends from the school paper, or she was with a tall, clean-looking guy—her boyfriend, presumably.

The third unusual thing was that Iris was walking towards her now. Caitlin resisted the urge to look behind her to see if Iris was walking towards someone else, and instead she pasted on a tentative smile, the sort she reserved for people with whom she knew only vaguely, and so wasn’t sure if she should greet or not. If the person noticed the smile and greeted her, she’d return the greeting with relief. But if the person didn’t notice the smile, then she’d look like an idiot, but not as big an idiot as she would have had she uttered an ignored ‘Hi’.

Iris, as it turned out, returned her smile. “Hi, Caitlin,” she said, slowing when she reached her.

A greeting and a slowing down. Clearly she was about to engage her in conversation, but what did Iris have to talk with her about? Did Barry send her to deliver a package, or to do some reconnaissance? But if she was going to do reconnaissance, wouldn’t it be wiser to approach someone closer to her, like Felicity?

“Hi?” Caitlin said.

“I’m glad I caught you on your way out,” she said. “I would’ve messaged you first, but Facebook says you haven’t been online in three days, so…”

“Sorry,” Caitlin said. “I don’t go online often.”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” she said. “I mean, I’m the one asking for your time. Not because I’m spying on you for Barry or anything,” she added hastily. “I just wanted to talk, that’s all. If you’re busy, though, I could—”

“I’m not,” Caitlin said. Her curiosity was sufficiently peaked. “My next class is in two hours. What did you want to talk about?”

“Great,” Iris said. “Could we… talk somewhere more private, like your room? Or my room’s fine, too. Gossip spreads pretty fast around here.”

“My room’s nearer,” Caitlin said. “It’s a bit of a mess, though. Well, Felicity’s side is a bit of a mess, so we could stay on my side…”

They both headed back to her room, and while Caitlin felt like the silence was awkward, Iris seemed completely at ease. She did look out of place in the shabby dorm room—with her red chiffon top, black leather skirt, and knee-high black boots, she looked like she’d stepped out of the pages of Vogue rather than a classroom—but she carried herself with the relaxed confidence of a person who made and followed her own rules.

“I know this is weird,” Iris said, “but Barry has also been acting weird lately, so I felt like I had to do something.”

“Weird, how?” Caitlin said, silently asking Felicity’s permission to borrow her chair. She pulled it up beside hers in front of her desk. She gestured for Iris to sit. “I haven’t known him long, but this”—she pointed to the items on her bedside table—“doesn’t seem too uncharacteristic of him.”

“Yeah, well, that’s true,” Iris said, sitting. From the direction of her gaze, Caitlin noticed the way Iris catalogued details carefully with her gaze: She scanned the usual school supplies on Caitlin’s desk (a plain white mug for writing materials, another one for highlighters, and a tray for bond paper), glanced at the stack of printed journal articles with notes and post-its, and lingered on the books on her shelf—The Double Helix by James Watson, Rosalind Franklin: The Dark Lady of DNA by Brenda Maddox, What Is Life? by Erwin Schrödinger, Einstein’s Dreams by Alan Lightman, and The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales by Oliver Sacks—all with yellowed pages. Those books were the only memorabilia she kept on her desk.

“Why do I feel,” Caitlin ventured when Iris reached the end of her quick survey, “that you’re already mentally writing profile of me?”

She was aiming to sound amused, and she supposed it succeeded, because Iris gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” she said. “Guilty as charged. Had to convince myself that I’m doing the right thing, and after seeing this”—she gestured to her Spartan desk and the books on display—“and that”—she gestured to her cluttered bedside table—“I’m pretty convinced. I’m guessing—no, I’m one hundred percent sure that you’re not the romantic type.”

“Not at all,” Caitlin said. And then, upon realizing that Iris might report all this to Barry, she added, “I do appreciate the sentiment, though.”

“Right,” Iris said, “but not the gifts.”

“Well…”

“Here’s the thing,” Iris said, sensing her hesitation. “I thought about talking to you back when he pulled that crazy stunt in the middle of the night, but for once, I stopped myself from meddling. Which is difficult for me, since I meddle in other people’s business for a living,” she added with a self-deprecating smile. “But I managed. ‘How bad can it be?’ I thought. ‘Who knows, maybe she likes flowers.’ When he gave you the chocolates, I thought, ‘Okay, fine, maybe she likes chocolates, too. Flowers are tricky, but chocolates are pretty safe. A lot of people are nuts for chocolates.’”

Caitlin was about to say that was nuts for neither flowers nor chocolates, but Iris seemed to be on a roll, so she let her continue.

“But when he gave you that teddy bear”—she gave the poor innocent Beary a dirty look—“and named it after him, that was the last straw. I said to him”—she made the phone gesture with her hand and brought it to her ear—“‘You gave her a teddy bear? Are you crazy? Do you even know if she likes teddy bears?’ and he was like, ‘But teddy bears are cute! Who doesn’t like teddy bears?’ and I was like, ‘Barry, if Eddie’—Eddie’s my boyfriend—‘gave me a teddy bear, I’d either donate it to charity or tell him to return it to the fricking store. Honestly, how old do you think she is? Five?’”

At this, Caitlin couldn’t help smiling. She was starting to like Iris. Iris made sense. “My sentiments, exactly.”

“Shit, I knew it,” Iris sighed. “I should’ve stopped him earlier, but it’s too late now. There’s no stopping him once he gets into planning. Although if it’s any consolation, he hasn’t gone this all-out since… Well, since. And there isn’t even any occasion. Can you imagine what sort of production number he’ll come up with if there is an occasion?”

“I’d really rather not,” Caitlin said, wincing. “If it’s going to involve a grand public display of affection, it’s going to be a nightmare.”

“Not a fan of PDA, huh?” Iris said. “This must be really uncomfortable for you. I mean, people have been talking nonstop about what he’s doing. I’ve lost count of how many times someone came up to me to ask about”—here she made quotation marks in the air—“‘Barry’s new girl.’”

Caitlin must have made a face, because Iris nodded sympathetically and said, “Yeah, I know. I was ‘Eddie’s new girl’ for some time, too, although for some reason he was never ‘Iris’s new guy.’ Ingrained sexism, that’s what it is. Really subtle, too, and harder to root out, but since women empowerment is having a moment—right, I’m ranting. Sorry. Bad habit.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m used to ramblers.”

“Ranters,” Iris corrected with a smile. “Wouldn’t want to be lumped in the same category as Barry. At least I don’t lose my main point while talking.”

Caitlin smiled. “He is prone to that.”

“Don’t I know it. Sometimes I just tune out until like, three hundred words later, when he finds it again. Come to think of it, I shouldn’t have tuned him out when he was spouting all those nonsense ideas… I might’ve been able to stop him from doing all this…”

“Is there really no way to ask him to stop with the gifts?” Caitlin said tentatively. “The sticky notes are okay, just not… this production number, as you called it.”

Iris paused. “I could try to talk to him again,” she said. “And anyway, isn’t he supposed to be giving you space?”

“Yes, well. Obviously he failed. I even have less literal space in my room now.”

Iris laughed. “That’s true.”

They fell into a brief, comfortable silence.

“Hey, Caitlin,” Iris eventually said, “thanks for being honest. I know it sounds like I’m selling my best friend out, but it’s just, he really likes you, and I don’t want him to screw himself over. He can be really eager, you know? When he’s excited he just jumps into things without thinking. Loses all sense of timing and subtlety, too.”

Iris paused as if debating whether or not to continue, but before Caitlin could come up with a response to fill in the silence, she went on. “His mom and dad were also really big on romance,” she said. “We grew up watching them trying to out-surprise each other on their anniversary and on Valentine’s Day. It was crazy, the things his dad did. Once, he decorated their whole house with flowers, because his mom absolutely adored flowers. This other time, he ordered chocolates from France, Sweden, Belgium—you know, places where those fancy chocolates come from—and made it look like a chocolate buffet from around the world. His mom was like that, too. She used to throw him these themed surprise parties. There was one party where she invited everyone—his former patients, his students, his colleagues from the hospital, his colleagues from whatever medical association he was part of—and she had someone from each group give him a toast. He was so teary-eyed at the end that he couldn’t give a proper thank-you speech.” Iris sighed. “His parents had something really special, you know? Even my dad thought so. Everyone who knew them thought so. The happiest couple in the world, people would call them.”

Caitlin absorbed all this in silence. “He does look like someone who grew up surrounded by that kind of love,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” Iris said, smiling. “He was such a happy kid. Still is, actually. And I think—and this is pure speculation,” she added, “but I think that more than having a great career, more than being rich or famous or successful, more than anything, really, Barry wants what his parents had. I’m not telling you should fulfil that,” she added quickly. “I just want you to understand where he’s coming from.”

“I understand,” she said slowly. “This is a lot to take in, though. I’m the antithesis of that picture of his parents you just described, as you can see.”

Iris laughed. “Yeah, that’s pretty clear to me. And honestly, I don’t think he’ll want you any other way. Just give him time to adjust.”

“Alright,” she said. “Thank you for… talking to me. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to proceed with all this.”

“Oh, no problem,” Iris said, waving a hand. “If you need help with Barry—or anything, really—you can message me any time.” She stood up. “Anyway, I should go. You have class, right?”

“In an hour, yes,” Caitlin said, accompanying her to the door.

“Hey, maybe in the future, we could do a double date or something,” Iris said. “You and Barry and me and Eddie. I’ll take you to all the best hole-in-the-wall places. A lot of the owners know me already, so I get discounts, too. It’ll be fun. What do you think?”

Caitlin blinked. “Okay,” she said.

“Great,” Iris smiled and squeezed her arm. Caitlin tried not to shy away from it. “I’ll go talk to Barry before he brews tomorrow’s disaster. See you around, Caitlin.”

When she left, Caitlin returned to her desk. Well. That was strange, but not entirely unwelcome, especially since Iris herself had offered to talk to Barry. She also found herself relieved that she could get along with Iris. She wasn’t exactly the friendliest of people, but Iris had enough friendly in her for the two of them.

“Now,” Caitlin muttered, staring at Beary’s placid smiling face, “what to do with you? You’re going to want to stick around, huh? A real nuisance you are, just like your namesake…”

She stopped abruptly when she realized that she was talking to an inanimate object, and then squinted warily at Beary. She was beginning to be gripped by this whole stuffed-animal craze, and she wasn’t sure what she felt about that…

. . .

“Cait? Hey Cait, bananas!”

Caitlin looked up from her laptop. “What? What’s happening?”

“Ha, got you to look!” Felicity grinned triumphantly. “You ready to sleep? I’m going to kill the lights now.”

Caitlin gave her friend an odd look, but, being used to such antics (or Felicitisms), she merely saved her file and slipped her laptop onto her table. “Yeah, sure.”

The lights went out. Felicity shuffled to her bed, and Caitlin heard her fold her glasses and place them on her bedside table with a soft thunk.

A few moments later, Caitlin ventured, “Hey. Are you sleepy?”

“No, not really.” Felicity turned to face her. Her face was blurry in the moonlight. “Are you?”

“No.” She paused. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, okay. Shoot.”

“Remember that story I told you, the one Iris told about Barry’s parents?”

“Mmm. What about it?”

“It bothers me.”

“Why?”

Caitlin curled further into her side. Had she been talking to Felicity during the day, with Cisco and Jax with them, she might not have said this out loud. But now, wrapped up in her blanket and enveloped by the warm, inviting darkness of their room, filled with the well-worn and well-loved things they had shared for over two years, Caitlin felt brave enough to be vulnerable.

“He wants a happy ending,” she said. “I’m clearly not his happy ending. He needs someone who can match his… exuberance, I guess. His generosity. Someone who’ll give him what his parents had. I don’t think I can. I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“You don’t know that,” Felicity said. “You haven’t even started dating yet.”

“I think that’s the point. We haven’t started dating yet and we’re already incompatible,” she said. “At first, I thought admitting my feelings was a bad idea because I didn’t want to get hurt, but now I think it’s a bad idea because I don’t want him to get hurt. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Ah,” Felicity said. “So you don’t think you’re good enough for him?”

“Well,” Caitlin exhaled, “more like I’m not right enough for him.”

“Yeah, I get that. I still feel that way with Oliver sometimes, you know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Well, we haven’t been together for long, but still. I was terrified, remember? And you were terrified for me, too. Told me that if I had any common sense, I’d walk away from him right this instant, before things got too serious.”

Caitlin smiled. “Fortunately for Oliver, you had zero common sense.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Sometimes, when I’m with him and I’m feeling really happy, I get hit by sheer panic. Like, I start thinking, It’s impossible for anyone to be this happy. He’s going to cheat on me one day, or else he’ll get bored with me and break up with me… Oh my God, if he does, I’ll never find someone like him again, I’ll never be this happy again… and so on.”

“You still think about that?” Caitlin said, incredulous. “Have you seen the way Oliver looks at you? When you’re in the room he literally cannot focus on anything else.”

“Yeah,” Felicity said, with a modest shrug, “but I guess sometimes we sabotage our own happiness.”

Caitlin moved to lie on her back. “I think I’ve felt what you’ve felt with Oliver,” she said quietly. “I just feel… so light with Barry. Or happy, I suppose. I’m not sure. But I know that when I’m with him, I don’t want the moment to end. And when I saw him with Patty—I told you about that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“When I saw him with Patty, I was devastated. But there was this small part of me that was almost… gleeful about it. It’s hard to explain, but that part of me seemed to be saying, You knew this would happen. You were right, he’ll never like you. Good thing you didn’t get too attached.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Felicity said. “Sometimes I hear that voice in my head, too.”

“Why does it do that?” Caitlin said, confusion and frustration seeping into her tone. “Why does our mind do that? Why is it that when we’re happy, our first instinct is to be skeptical of happiness?”

Felicity was quiet for a moment. “Maybe our mind is trying to protect us from getting hurt,” she said. “Maybe we only open a little part of ourselves up to happiness so that when it leaves, it doesn’t take all of us with it.”

Her words sank into the darkness of the room.

“Or, wait, no,” Felicity said. “If Oliver… breaks up with me, yeah, I’ll be devastated, and I’ll probably cry for days, and the part of me that was only me around him will be gone. But I don’t think that means I’m less of a person if he leaves. I won’t be left with like, only a few pieces of my heart or something. Pretty sure I’m stronger than that.”

“You definitely are.”

“Thanks,” her friend said, smiling. “So I guess what I’m trying to say is... we try to protect ourselves from that one painful moment we think we won’t be strong enough to withstand. For me it’s Oliver breaking up with me for whatever reason. For you it’s disappointing Barry. And we sort of obsess over it, that painful moment, because we want to do anything to prevent it. And when we do that we forget to enjoy whatever’s happening now. Or that even if that moment does happen, we can and will survive it.”

“Like having tunnel vision,” Caitlin murmured. “Being scared of the pain is like having tunnel vision. You stop seeing possibilities around you.”

“Yeah,” Felicity said. “Yeah, something like that.”

“You’re saying that I should give this thing with Barry a real chance, aren’t you?”

Felicity grinned. “I’m saying that, or you are?”

“Touché.”

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy,” she said. “You guys have a lot to talk about. I mean, flowers and chocolates and teddy bears are sweet, but they’re just not your thing.”

“So I heard. Apparently it’s common knowledge for everyone besides him.”

“You’ll think of something,” Felicity said. “I think he’s just excited now so he can’t think straight, but he means well. He really wants to make you happy.”

“I suppose so.”

“And if he can’t see you behind all those romantic notions of his, believe me, I’ll be the first one to tell you to stop trying.”

Caitlin gave her friend a smile. “Thanks.”

There was a lull in the conversation.

“Think we should go to sleep now?”

“Yeah, we probably should,” Felicity said, pulling her blankets to her chin. “Oh, before I forget, Oliver says thanks for the Smirnoff.”

“Tell him he’s welcome.”

“You traitors,” Felicity yawned. “Scheming behind my back.”

“Good night to you too, Felicity.”

Her friend smiled and buried her face in her pillow. “Good night, Cait.”

#snowbarry #snowbarry fic #snowbarry fanfiction #barry x caitlin #wonderful you came by #my fic #barry allen #caitlin snow #felicity smoak #iris west #cisco ramon #hartley rathaway #jefferson jackson #oliver queen

22 notes · View notes