#I just want to enjoy being in the kitchen by my lonesome for 5 minutes without one of you people ruining it for me

[dirtytransmasc]

the autistic rage that is living with other people, actively waiting to go into a room till everyone's out of the room and doing their own things so you can use the room undisturbed, and the second you walk in there you have seemingly reminded people the room exists as they all need to be in there that very second, literally. everyone could be in there rooms, my grandma could be half asleep watching her soaps, but the second I put my headphones all the way on and start going about washing dishes (I find it relaxing) or fixing a snack, they're all in here

[cultgambles]

Sometimes You Need a Little TLC from a Villain (Dabi x Reader)

Summary:

Reader is a normal civilian...well as normal as you can get dating a villain. On Friday, Reader is stalked. On Saturday, an 'accident' occurs. On Sunday, Dabi comforts you best he knows.

word count: 1925

Masterlist | Requests? open

It was Friday, the last day of the work week. I wouldn’t be able to see You in person for a couple days. It made me feel so sad, but then I saw You through the doors of the office building. The clear office doors where You worked as an accountant. I knew You hated that job, with your slavedriver of a boss pushing you around constantly. But, I suppose You did make good money, your apartment was nothing to laugh at. Even if it was at the edge of a seedy part of town. Even if You have creepy neighbors I’ll always be watching You.

 I could faintly smell your scent as You walked past me. You didn’t see me, luckily, otherwise I would have to converse as to why your coworker was ‘reading’ a paper in front of the building in which you both worked. 

You walked past that karaoke bar as you always do to get to your train--the local green one. I saw You insert the ticket, and I followed after a few people. I stayed near You, maybe I could be your gallant knight in shining armor to save you from weirdos. I saw You sitting by the window, squeezing your legs, your brow furrowing as You stared at your phone. What was on there? I craned my neck to see, even though I knew I was too far away. The train came to a stop: station 5. Your commute was at least 30 minutes, mine more. As You walked out of the station, I saw your head tilt and You swerved around, scanning the area. I ducked behind a wall, and your heeled feet continued on their way. Relief flooded me, You didn’t see me. 

That relief however, was short lived. Right out of the station’s doors, I saw You jump into someone’s arms. I heard your laugh, like bells in the wind.

I clenched my fist, fishing my phone out of my pocket to snap a photo of this mystery man. No one was good enough to be with You. Everyone except me, of course. You and that man walked hand in hand all the way to your apartment. Disgusting. Suddenly, the man lifted your arm above your head, spinning You into a hug. 

“Hey! What are you doing?!” You giggled. Your back was to me, but he. He was facing me. As I stared on, his eyes focused, landing on me. They were a bright cerulean, deadly. Just as quick as they focused, he turned around, an arm slung on your shoulder.

I blinked, rubbing my eyes. Did that actually happen? Or were my eyes playing tricks on me? 

You were gone by the time I decided to move again. Maybe that was for the best. 

Your apartment was on the 2nd floor, overlooking the street. Your window blinds were almost always open, the lights inside silhouetting your body perfectly. You of course, weren’t alone. That man. I saw his shape too, that should be me. 

I stayed outside for another hour and a half at least. I would have stayed longer, but he was pissing me off too much. Since when had this happened? I’ve been following You for a couple weeks now and I’ve never seen him before. I spared another glance at your window, and the blinds were drawn except one part was lifted.

Cerulean blue eyes.

[ Y / N ] P O V

“What are you doing, weirdo?” [Y/N]  called to their boyfriend.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Doll,” Dabi said, pulling the blind down.

“Well, I hope you’re hungry! I made cold soba.”

“Starving,” he replied, joining [Y/N]  at the small dining table. “Hey. You ever feel like you’re being watched?”

“Watched? I can’t say...today I thought someone was behind me a lot though, why?”

“Why don’t you take your pants off then? I know you hate wearing them after work.”

“Oh so you just wanna see my ass, huh?”

“Course,” Dabi gave a lazy smirk and waved a hand towards [Y/N] . 

“Fine, fine! Let me finish eating at least.” After, [Y/N]  and Dabi cuddled on the small couch and watched Into the Tall Grass. 

Dabi always smelled like campfire smoke and pine, cigarette smoke seeped into his clothes. [Y/N]  used to hate the smell, but now, it brought them comfort.

“Why did you ask if I thought someone was watching me earlier?” [Y/N]  asked, pressing their face into his neck. In return, he tightened his grip.

“Don’t worry about it, Doll. Thought I saw someone from your work.”

“Oh, Hidashi? He rides the same train as me. I think he told me he gets off at the stop after mine or something.”

“Hidashi, huh?”

“Yeah, okay, shh, movie time now.” [Y/N] ’s boyfriend gave a small chuckle and kissed their hair. 

The rest of the evening was spent cuddling on the couch, which the two were grateful of. Dabi hadn’t been around for the last couple weeks because of a mission Shigaraki sent him on, and [Y/N]  was just glad to be off work, and to be in their boy’s arms. 

≿-----༺❀༻-----≾

I tried imagining me holding You like that last night, but he kept popping up in my mind. That guy with those blazing eyes, spiky black hair, and long black coat. Was this the type of man You went for? Some drab fellow? Why couldn’t it be me? These last few months of working with You, I tried being nice and being your friend. I brought You sweet snacks I thought You would enjoy, and hovered around You, always ready to lend a hand if You needed it. Punching the air right now. 

I sighed, rubbing the back of my hands over my eyes and got up to get dressed. It was Saturday. You always went to a park around lunch time. You would spend a good hour or so there, and later return to your apartment.

I would be there, of course, watching silently. When I got to your apartment, the lights were on. I saw You across the street, seemingly dancing to a song. I felt the ghost of a smile grace my face, until I saw Him waltz towards You. He held and hand out for You, and placed another on the small of your back. I seethed, watching the two of you sway.

Who even was this guy? I kicked a trash can and the lid clattered to the ground. I couldn’t bear to see You with someone. I fished my phone out of my pocket, scrolling through the thousands of photos I took of just You. My haggard breath calmed slightly. This was no biggie, I could get rid of him easily with my Quirk. He looks scrawny enough. 

A cough jolted me out of my reverie. Startled, I looked to your window, only to see the lights off. Had You left for the park already and I hadn’t noticed?

“Hey.”

I grunted. Who the hell is bothering me now?

“Look at me, motherfucker,” the voice commanded.

Slowly, I turned around.

The man before me was covered in scars and staples. Wasn’t there a villain that had those features?

“I said look at me.”

I saw his hand reach out, a blue flame hovering above his palm. Hesitantly, I looked up, what would a villain want with me, a normal civilian?

Blue cerulean eyes.

I would recognize them anywhere.

“It’s you. What are you? Some kind of clown?” I sneered. He raised an eyebrow.

“So. You’re Hidashi, huh?” Okay. Now a little fear.

“How..How do you know my name?”

“I’m sure you know mine, after all, I am a notorious villain,” he purred, stalking closer to me. 

“Dabi..”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, stooping down. “But you know who else I am?”

“[Y/N] ’s boy toy or something? I haven’t seen you around. What, they pick you off the street because they felt sorry for your ugly ass?”

I can’t believe my precious [Y/N]  decided to go for this asshole.

Wait, was he holding You hostage?

“We met a few months ago, you know? [Y/N]  found me lying on the cold hard ground. Patched me up. Now they can’t shake me,” he said. A few months? How did I not know about this? Why didn’t You tell me?

“They won’t have to worry about you anymore though.”

“They’ll never get rid of me. Ha! They don’t even know it’s me! You may be a villain but I know you can’t fight without your little buddies here to help you!”

“You’re right, they’ll never get rid of you themselves…” He sighed, almost contemplating. “Glad I'm here to do it for them.”

[ Y / N ] P O V

Today was a really nice day, [Y/N]  thought as they headed back home. It was nice to sit under the cedar tree and watch the clouds roll by. [Y/N]  had even gotten a ways through their book. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here all by your lonesome?” a man’s voice drawled behind you.

“Just walking home,” [Y/N]  replied awkwardly, turning around slightly to get a look at the guy. Once they realized who it was, they brightened up immensely. “Hey, you! I didn’t see you this morning. Thought you had to do another errand.” That’s what they called his work. [Y/N]  knew Dabi worked with the league, but he didn’t like going too much in detail, so [Y/N]  didn’t ask.

Dabi throws an arm around them. “Yeah, I had to take care of somethin’, but now I’m all yours, Sweetness.”

[Y/N]  giggled, “Thinkin’ you’re gonna get some tonight?”

“You know I will.”

“Mmm, maybe,” [Y/N]  teased.

As soon as the two got inside of [Y/N] ’s apartment, Dabi flopped on the couch, while you went in the kitchen to find some snacks. [Y/N]  heard the TV flicker on, and a news reporter appeared on screen.

“Reporting live! This is Max Lobo. I never do things like this, but I’ve been following the Paranormal Liberation Front for some time now. A BODY has been discovered. It’s singed and nearly unrecognizable. A man in his late 20’s, brown hair. 

“While this could be the work of a lesser criminal, these blue flames that linger are sure signs of the villain Dabi. We will continue investigating this as if our life depends on it. Was he just trying to blow off some steam? Or was he a rat that needed to be eliminated?

“Back to you at the studio.”

“Dabi?”

A grunt.

“Was that your little errand today?”

“So what if it was? He deserved to die. I saw the way he looked at you.”

“D’awww, you care about me or something?” [Y/N]  crooned, setting a plate of cookies on the coffee table. 

“Nah, I think that reporter was right. Just tryin’ to blow off some steam,” Dabi smirked.

“Glad I could lead you to just the guy then.”

“Yeah yeah, get your ass over here,” he said, rolling his eyes. Dabi pulled [Y/N]  onto his lap.

[Y/N]  liked when he would stare up at them with those content eyes and lazy smirk. They liked being taller than him, if only for a bit. Leaning down, [Y/N]  captures his lips in a kiss. They always start off slow and sweet, but Dabi’s patience wears thin and it turns steamy in a matter of seconds. He runs his hands over [Y/N] ’s sides, grasping at the thin shirt. 

“Stop hiding from me,” Dabi murmured, breaking the kiss and pulling it over their head. 

[Y/N] ran their fingers across his scars and staples in a light feathery fashion. 

PS!! requests are open, so drop me somethin if you’d like!

[shadow-dancing]

Guitar Man (Taeil)

Listen: Guitar Man ; Every time I’m With You ; New Kid in Town

Genre: white collar worker!Taeil, guitarist!Taeil, some angst, moonlighting Words: 2, 217 

It was another crowded night at Pandora's Box, the pub in town that your uncle owned. Lately there has been a guitar playing man who was drawing in hoards of people to visit, & your uncle couldn't be happier by the boom in business. You weren't into pubs or bars—the stale air & smell of booze was a big turn off for your sensitive sense of smell, & the songs that usually blared at a billion decibels were not your cup of tea. Your uncle was singing this guitar man praises every night when he came home from work, & it was driving you slightly mad.

Your friend, Taeyong, was absolutely floored that you have never heard this person live when your uncle literally ran the place. "Come on, Y/N, the guy's great! Just go listen once, trust me."

You gave in after 3 weeks, & visited the establishment on a Monday night where you hoped the crowds would be less compared to the weekends. The pub air hit your nostrils like a sucker punch & you silently gagged as you made your way to the bar. You recognized the bartender, it was Johnny, the gentle giant whom you've known since your uncle opened the place about 3 years ago.

"Hey Y/N! What're you doing here?" Johnny asked with a wave. He was aware you were not a big fan of pubs.

"Came to see the newest sensation, of course," you smiled wryly, sitting gingerly on the bar stool.

"Ah, Taeil. He's great, the bars been busier than Times Square on New Year's Eve these past weeks. I think boss is considering hiring him permanently," Johnny nodded. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"I'll get Kun to make some fish & chips for you."

Soon you were tucking into your fish & chips with some iced Ribena. It was starting to get really crowded, & Johnny eventually got busy enough that he was making 3 drinks at the same time. You were tempted to leave; the amount of people in the relatively large space was probably over the maximum capacity at this point, & people had to jostle their ways around trying to find seats. At 7:45 the band that was playing stopped, said their thanks, & got off the stage. A relatively short young man, clad in a striped shirt under an oversized denim jacket & his dark hair side swept, took their place, a black guitar case slung over his shoulder & a bottle of water in hand. The crowd started murmuring excitedly, which gave you all you needed to know—this young man was Taeil. You were startled by his appearance when he turned around—he was wearing a white half mask to cover the upper half of his face.

Taeil adjusted the mic to fit his smaller stature, & perched on the stool that had been brought out for him. You watched as he produced an acoustic guitar from the case, & tuned it. He cleared his throat, took a quick sip of water, cleared his throat once more, & leaned into the mic a little.

"Good evening everyone—"

The crowd interrupted him with hoots & cheers. You rolled your eyes. Let the man speak, dammit.

Taeil smiled politely as the cheers died down. "I hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight."

You pushed aside your empty plate, sipping your drink. A hush fell over the crowd as Taeil started playing.

"Are we going insane? Do we need to explain? I feel like we know it."

Your heart leaped. Taeyong & Johnny were wrong—he wasn't just good, he was damn good. The crowd slowed their activities, their eyes trained on him as he sang. The kitchen grew quieter as Johnny & Kun paused a moment to listen.

"I could lose it all it won't be daunting Somehow I don't think I'd even care Cuz every time I'm with you I feel wanted We could make believers if we dared"

As he finished the song, the people sighed; some wiped their tears & kissed their significant others, while others wallowed in loneliness. Taeil realized the mixed reaction & wanted to stammer an apology, but the crowd burst into applause & screamed for another song. He took a swig of water & started on the next song.

"Baby I don't know why, but somehow I always seem to get tangled up in my pride"

Taeil's set ended at 9.30, much to the dismay of the crowd. He waved shyly as he hopped off the stage & disappeared through a back door. Johnny & Kun resumed their work. & you gulped down the rest of your drink. Taeil's set was over, there no longer was a reason to hang around. As you lay in bed later that night, your heart was still pounding, the sweet vocals resonating in you ears.

You found yourself at the pub after work the next day. Johnny looked up as you approached, & you knew he could tell you couldn't get enough of Taeil. At the same time as yesterday, Taeil took the stage at 7:45, & today he asked the band to accompany him as he played a rendition of Got My Mind Set On You, Oh Pretty Woman, & Part Time Lover.

"Okay break time everyone! I need to hydrate!" Taeil laughed, leaving the mic.

He squeezed past his adoring fans & made it to the bar, where he asked for some lemon tea. Johnny handed it to him, & he downed it pretty fast, almost choking on the ice.

"You okay?" You asked, offering some serviettes.

"Yeah, fine. Forgot my bottle," Taeil reassured. He flashed you a smile, before heading off to the stage again.

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

Taeil scrubbed a hand over his eyes as the sun started to hang low. Work was exhausting as always, & he was more than ready to just up & leave the place. He glanced at his watch—4:55PM. 5 more minutes & he could clock out. He looked around to see what his colleagues were up to; Jungwoo was yawning widely as he typed away at his laptop, Yuta was scrawling away busily on some paper, probably doodling, & Jaehyun had his earphones plugged in—Taeil could make out some TV drama playing on Jaehyun's Netflix account. Taeil exhaled, glancing at his watch again.

Another 2 minutes to freedom.

He pushed his papers aside, pulling out a binder full of guitar chords from his bag. He flipped through the sheets to find a song to play at the pub. Are You Lonesome Tonight seemed good for a first song, maybe for the second song he could play—

"Aw yes! Finally time to leave this place!" Yuta announced loudly, standing up to stretch his arms.

"Not so loud! Do you want the boss to hear?" Taeil hissed, putting a finger to his lips.

"He left like 45 minutes ago," Jungwoo pointed out, shutting off his laptop.

"What? Really?" Jaehyun asked, taking his earphones out.

"Seriously? I thought you were watching that stupid TV drama because you knew he was gone!" Jungwoo exclaimed.

"No, I watched it because I don't want to do work. Tomorrow's a holiday for heaven's sakes why are we even here when we could've taken the day off."

"Oh whatever let's just get out of here," Yuta grumbled, packing up. "The pool table at Daydream is calling my name."

"Taeil, you joining us for pool?" Jungwoo asked. "Yuta is gonna go up against Doyoung later."

"No it's fine, I have something to do tonight. I'll see you all tomorrow, bye," Taeil said as he walked out the door.

He quickly got into his car, & drove home for a quick rinse. He found a clean shirt & threw on a black jacket & was out the door again with his guitar in hand. He was glad the owner of Pandora's Box let him play; he was tired of the tedious routine of his work days, & playing for the crowd for 1.5 hours was the one thing he looked forward to everyday, even if it meant he had to take a 2 hour drive to the pub. He had chanced upon the pub after the previous place he used to frequent got shut down due to poor business. He didn't even realize the crowds got less, as he was so focused on his playing.

Traffic was lighter than usual today, to which Taeil chalked up to being related to tomorrow being a public holiday, & most probably took the day off to make it a long weekend. He parked in his usual spot, & entered the front discreetly. It was pretty early, so there were only a handful of people inside. Johnny, the bartender, looked up as Taeil approached.

"Hey man, you're early today," he noted.

"Yeah, traffic was good. Can I get some water?"

Johnny slid him a glass of water.

"Is that musician gonna play tonight?"

Taeil almost choked on his water as he accidentally eavesdropped on the conversation of the fellas at the table behind him.

"I should think so."

"Tsk. What's so great about him? He just sings songs & strums his guitar. Anyone can do it!"

"Uh, I mean, not everyone has the—"

"Pass me a guitar & I could sing as good as him."

"Can you even play guitar."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes it does, you nitwit."

Taeil was mildly amused by the exchange, but also by the fact they thought they might like to take his place. In no way did he believe he was superior over them, but being a musician wasn't as easy as prancing on the stage with a guitar.

He wowed the crowd as always that night, and at 9.25 he looked at his binder stuffed with sheet music. What shall his final song be?

You watched intently form your seat, Taeyong cheering next to you; Taeil was absolutely glowing tonight, & everyone was all ears. He sang Elvis, & even played Piano Man by Billy Joel. You noticed the crowd seemed to be a little thin today, yet it didn't faze Taeil. He adjusted his mask, & picked up his guitar. A familiar set of chords filled your ears, & you inhale deeply.

"There's talk on the street it sounds so familiar. Great expectations, everybody's watching you."

You bit your lip slightly. What could Taeil possibly mean by playing this song? Was it just a song for tonight or did he have some intention to sing it?

"Johnny come lately The new kid in town Everybody loves you So don't let them down"

The rest of the crowd did not seem to be worried by the song. After all, why should they? The guitar man was simply here to serenade them with his angelic vocals to help them forget about life for a while. You take a swig of your Ribena. You were probably just overthinking things. After all, this song was about fleeting romance. You glanced at Taeyong briefly, & he catches your eye. He smiles, & you feel your heart skip a beat.

"There's talk on the street, it's there to remind you Doesn't really matter which side you're on You're walking away, and they're talking behind you They will never forget you 'til somebody new comes along"

As the pub emptied for closing, Taeil sat at the bar with a glass of water. Johnny was mopping up the beer some patron had spilled all over the floor, grumbling about how uncouth some people can get. Kun was singing softly in the kitchen as he washed up the dirty dishes in the sink, while his kitchen assistants cleaned the stoves & countertops. Taeil thumbed the rim of his glass, suddenly tired. Boy was he glad tomorrow was a holiday cuz he intended to sleep in late.

"You did well today, Taeil," the bar owner said as he rearranged the tables & chairs.

"Thank you, sir."

"Is something wrong?"

"Not at all, sir, just tired," Taeil admitted.

"Not surprised, you did go all out tonight," the owner nodded. "If you're too tired to make the drive home I think Johnny can let you stay in his place, can you Johnny?"

Johnny gave a thumbs up.

"Nah, I think I'll be fine."

The lightbulb above Taeil flickered. The bar owner frowned at it, muttering he should get a replacement bulb for that. Taeil stayed until the owner had to escort his employees out. Sitting in the driver seat of his car, Taeil watched as the lights went out before starting his car. 

It was time to leave. 

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

"Is the Guitar Man coming back?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"I hope he does. He was fantastic."

Johnny looked up. The crowds were less now that Taeil hasn't returned to play for the past 5 days. The boss had called Taeil out of concern 3 days ago, lord knows what could've happened that night that he insisted on driving back despite his tiredness, & Taeil answered that he’s gone elsewhere to play. The boss was disappointed, but understood that sensations tend to fade out after their 15 minutes of fame. 

Johnny returned to his chores; he too had been disappointed to hear Taeil left to go elsewhere to sing. Maybe one day the guitar man would return. 

[saiilorstars]

It Had To Be You

Ch. 5: Caught Up In You // Story Masterlist

Pairings: Barry Allen x Original Female Character

Summary:  Belén suspects someone is stalking her but even when Barry and the rest at STAR Labs do their best to figure who it is, they’re not fast enough. 

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

No real warnings for now!

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

“Belén, sweetheart?” David Palayta’s voice rang from the living room. Belén, who was sitting at the kitchen table working (or trying to at the very least) on some homework, looked up from her laptop just as her father walked into the room. “I’m going to be working probably all night again. Will you be alright?”

“Yes, Dad, don’t worry,” Belén smiled as she received a kiss over her head. “I’ve got tons of work to do myself.”

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re still doing homework?” David stopped by the counter and grabbed a glass, moving to fill it with water.

“Have I mentioned my hate for biology?” Belén rested her cheek on her hand. “It’s completely useless!”

David gave her a sideways glance, clearly taking offense to the statement. Belén shyly smiled and straightened in her chair. “You know, your new friends would be highly upset with that.”

“Iris knows and she agrees. Caitlin already knows I hate this stupid subject,” Belén began listing off with her fingers, “And then Cisco lets me basically say whatever the hell I want just as long as I listen to his jokes.”

“And what about Barry?”

“Well…he does forensics…that has to do with biology?” Belén genuinely blinked in surprise at the new piece of information. “I just thought he was super smart.”

“Oh Annah-Belén, where did I go wrong with you?” David walked back to the table, pressing another kiss to his daughter’s head.

“Absolutely nowhere,” Belén looked up with a wide grin. “It’s just not my thing, Dad. I like to write and dance, and…biology is stupid.”

“You need to get yourself a tutor,” David pointed, heading for the doors but stopping to get his jacket from the hangar.

“And drag some poor innocent soul into this?” Belén sarcastically laughed. “I’m not evil, Dad.”

“No, but you will fail and then you’ll have a villainous father to deal with,” David warned and opened the door. “So study hard. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Belén waved and watched her father walk out the place. She waited until she heard the car start and drive off before standing up. “I’ll work hard alright…” she closed her laptop and and began gathering her books, “…I’ll work hard to see the Streak tonight on time,” she smirked to herself and hurried off to get a quick change of clothes.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

One hour later, she and the Streak were in their lonesome park discussing Rayan’s case. Barry was in the middle of sharing a new piece of information he’d learned that day when he realized that Belén was staring at him for no reason.

“Bells?” his modulated voice unexpectedly pulled her out from her trance-like state.

Belén rapidly blinked and felt her face warm up from embarrassment. “I’m…I’m so sorry, what was that?”

She hadn’t planned on spacing out. There were just times when she tried focusing really hard on his face in order to attempt to find out his true identity. But there were other times when she just found him incredibly…attractive… and she thought that was ridiculous because most of the time when they were close he would purposely hide his face with that speedy trick that blurred his features. She supposed it was just one of those fan crushes someone would get on their favorite superhero. Who wouldn’t get them? Half the students in her college had one on the Red Streak.

“I told you that I went looking through your brother’s history of the day he went missing and I saw he was nearby a crime scene.”

“Crime scene? What kind?”

“It was a robbery,” Barry explained, handing her a manila folder full of the crime information. “The band of thieves are notorious for their work with weapons. Their last robbery was just minutes before your brother went missing.”

“Are you saying…” Belén checked a couple of profiles of each of the thieves, “…are you saying they have something to do with Rayan? Like…they took him?”

“It’s just a supposition,” Barry clarified, but it was enough to fill Belén’s eyes with newfound joy. “I mean, in your brother’s car accident the only thing they found his belongings but not him. Even the driver of the other car wasn’t there.”

“So it could have been a set up from those thieves?” Belén concluded. “Oh my God, this is a breakthrough!”

“It’s nothing concrete,” Barry reiterated. As much as he wanted to give her good news, he needed to make sure that Belén understood nothing was set in stone. They could always get things wrong.

Belén nodded, stuffing the folder into her bag. “Thank you so much. I know I keep repeating myself every time we meet but you really have no idea what this means to me.”

Barry chuckled, affirming her statement. “And like always, I say you’re welcome and that it’s my job.”

“But it’s not your job,” Belén softly said. “You came out of nowhere and you decided that it was your duty to fight for this city. And help unimportant people like me with their personal problems?”

“Now who said you were unimportant?” if Barry’s face had been clear, Belén would’ve been witness to the deep scowl running across his lips.

“I’m just a college girl,” Belén said, embarrassed. “What makes me so special?”

“What doesn’t make you so special?” countered Barry with a highly amused tone. “I like you, Bells. But you have got to stop belittling yourself.”

Belén smiled. “I will try.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Belén raised a hand. “Now, could you give me a lift back home? I couldn’t risk taking my brother’s car because our neighbor, Mrs. Andrews, has a tendency to ‘keep an eye on me’ on behalf of my Dad.”

“C'mon,” Barry motioned he would be picking her up again. She allowed him to take hold of her and speed off towards her home.

He went straight to her backyard, through the side gate, and placed her down beside the big tree. Belén fixed her messy hair and straightened the rest of her clothes. The wind of the speed always messed her appearance up.

“Thanks,” she said once she felt presentable again. “As always.”

“You’re welcome - as always,” Barry said, backtracking from her enough to where he felt confident to show his face without blurring it.

Belén had grown accustomed to the trick, and while she wasn’t happy with it she let it be for the sake of them having another minute together. “I know it’s silly to ask but is there anyone waiting for you at home? I mean, if I had a son that was out at this hour I’d be pretty anxious.”

If the darkness hadn’t covered most of him, Belén would’ve seen his sad smile. “I live alone, so…I do as I please.”

Belén chuckled and passed a hand through her hair. “Right. But, I mean…there’s no, uh, no…no…girlfriend waiting for you?” she felt completely intrusive asking but her mind wouldn’t let her rest.

“What?” Barry nervously laughed. “N-no! No…not…no!”

The exchange of awkward laughter filled the air, and had both blushing. Eventually, they calmed and Belén glanced at her kitchen hidden behind the swinging curtains.

“I should go inside. Thanks,” she glanced towards Barry, wishing he would just step out of the darkness to see who he was behind that mask.

“Until next time, Belén,” Barry waved and sped off.

Belén momentarily closed her eyes from the wind Barry left behind. She took a deep breath and went inside, hoping to do some research…or homework…which one happened to be easiest.

~ 0 ~

It turns out, neither had been easier for Belén. Three days later, Belén heavily sighed as she stepped out of her biology classroom. Her eyes were glued to the ugly red 'F’ marked at the top of recent quiz.

“Unbelievable,” she cursed herself and stormed down the hallway. If this continued then she would, without a doubt, fail the class.

She abruptly stopped when she felt eyes burning on the back of her head. Turning her head slightly to the right, she scanned her immediate surroundings for any lingering stares. It was a tough decision whether to be disappointed she saw no one staring or relieved that no one was staring.

Slowly, she began to walk again. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

For the past weeks, it had just clung to her.

~ 0 ~

“You’re not being smart, that’s all I’m saying,” Cisco flapped a hand as if to emphasize his words more to Barry. They made a turn for the cortex room. “Sooner or later Belén will figure it out and bam! there will be trouble.”

“I’m just helping,” Barry grew tired of repeating himself to everyone. Could no one understand it was just his way of repaying Belén for all that she’d done for him while he was in his coma?

“No, you’re getting closer to her,” Cisco inclined his head, that little smirk making Barry turn away as if he were choosing to look at his suit across. “And sooner or later, it’s going to blow up in your face. Now, I like Belén, and I like Barry, and I definitely wouldn’t want Belén and Barry to be upset with each other.”

Barry shook his head and turned to his friend, leaning on the ledge of the computer desk. “It’s not gonna happen.”

“Oh yeah?” Cisco arched an eyebrow as he plopped down on the computer chair. “How do you know?”

“Because she’s never gonna find out that I’m the 'Red Streak’.”

And soon as those words were spoken, they heard Belén’s voice from the corridor. “Hello!?”

Barry’s eyes widened in moment terror while Cisco leaned back on his chair and enjoyed the view. In a second Barry had sped around the desk and pressed a button that shielded his suit behind a hidden compartment in the wall.

“Still can’t believe you made me install that,” Cisco muttered to Barry as the meta human took a seat beside him. “And just so that Bells could keep coming in here!”

“Shut up!” was all Barry said in regards to the matter.

Both men exchanged looks when Belén finally came in. “Guys…” her nervous voice pulled them out of their playful bickering. She looked completely pale and scared.

Minutes later, they had her sitting down in one of their chairs by the desk and listened to her apparent problem.

“I think someone’s following me. Whenever I’m walking on a street, or even at school, I feel someone is staring at me.”

“Well, maybe they think you’re cute,” Cisco shrugged casually, earning Belén’s graceful smile.

“Thanks Cisco,” she said sheepishly, knowing he was just trying to make her feel less afraid. “But I think this is more than just a crush. There’s this coffee shop I always go to in my campus, and when I felt the stares again, I decided to get smart.”

“What did you do?” Barry inquired, heavily interested on who was giving her trouble.

“One of the baristas is cousin to a friend of mine. I asked him if he could take a look around for me and see if there was someone looking at me weirdly.”

“And…?”

Belén’s eyes watered up fast, her lips pursing together. “There was this guy in a hoodie and…apparently, he only shows up on the days I have classes. He's following me!”

“Woah, hey,” Cisco crouched beside her chair and side hugged her. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Seeing Belén nearly crying stirred a new feeling inside Barry, and he acted on it without a second thought. He reached for her hand, a fierce look on his face. “No one is going to hurt you, Bells. We’ll go to police station and have someone look into it.”

“But what am I going to say to them?” Belén laughed bitterly. “That some guy in a hoodie was following me? I don’t know what he looks like, Barry.”

“But the coffee shop has to have security cameras,” Cisco quickly supplied, getting an agreeing nod from Barry. “That’s a great start. And if he was at school then those cameras had to capture him too.”

Barry gently pulled Belén up to her feet. “I can’t go to the station right now, though,” Belén informed. “I have to go to Jitters. I got myself a biology tutor online and we’re supposed to meet today.”

“I’m taking you myself, then,” Barry volunteered and had a look that said he wouldn’t change his mind.

Belén admitted it did make her feel safer so she didn’t put in a word of refusal either. Instead, she turned to Cisco and gave him a hug goodbye.

Cisco kissed her head and smiled when he pulled back. “We’ll figure it out, Bells, you’ll see.”

“Okay,” Belén said, but there was barely a true belief in it. She allowed Barry to tug her out of the room afterwards.

~ 0 ~

Waiting for Belén’s tutor turned out to be a longer waiting task than either Belén or Barry anticipated. In the beginning, Iris had come by to offer them coffee but both had refused on account of Barry having to leave soon and Belén meeting the tutor. After thirty minutes passed by, Barry caved and went to the counter to order them coffee.

“What exactly are you doing?” Iris inquired curiously after setting two mugs of coffee on the counter. Usually, she would’ve teased they were on a date or something but seeing the look on Belén’s face told her something quite different was up. “You’ve been here for thirty minutes and you’ve just…sat…?”

Barry was taking out a twenty from his wallet and briefly glanced over his shoulder to Belén. The ombre-blonde woman was sitting silently with a blank expression, her biology book shut on the side of the table. “She’s just going through some stuff,” Barry left it at that and handed Iris the twenty.

“What kind of stuff?” Iris arched an eyebrow, moving to the cash register. “Her mom left and even with her brother’s case closed she never had that look on her face. Barry, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Barry shrugged, trying to act like usual. “She doesn’t say much-”

“And that’s a big red flag,” Iris interjected, handing him back his change. “Belén the motor mouth, do you remember?” she inclined her head, hoping her serious look would guilt Barry into telling her.

“I don’t know, Iris,” Barry raised his hands in surrender then grabbed both mugs and left before Iris could continue. It wasn’t like he liked lying to Iris but this was actually not something for him to say. Only Belén could decide who she told and he would respect that.

Belén lightly flinched with the clank noise the mug gave when Barry placed in front of her. She raised her eyes and met a smiling Barry. “I didn’t know exactly what you wanted so I went with a latte?” Barry sat down across her.

Belén mumbled a 'thank you’ and took the mug. “You don’t have to be here, Barry,” she said before taking a small sip.

“It makes you feel better,” Barry said quite confidently then realized how it came out and sputtered out an apology. “N-n-not that…I m-mean not-t…not like…you know…like, uh…”

Belén watched him struggle to say a complete sentence and eventually had to smile just a little. “That made me feel better.”

Barry flushed with embarrassment and opted for a long drink of coffee. And when his throat burned from the hot liquid, he put a hand on his lap and balled it up to keep a loud yelp inside. He was acting like a dork, and not the cute dork that Iris always told him he could be, but a proper idiot dork. He always ended up doing this kind of stuff around Belén and he would like to file a complaint with his mind for it.

“You really don’t have to be here, though,” Belén repeated herself, unknowingly pulling Barry out of his thoughts. She put her mug down and sighed. “I’m in a public place. If the guy wanted to do something he would wait until I was somewhere completely secluded.”

“I don’t care, I’m staying until your tutor arrives.” Barry checked his watch and saw the time had changed into forty minutes of tardiness from this tutor. “Though with the time…”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Belén admitted, stumped on her unprofessional tutor’s absence.

“Where’d you even get the tutor from?” Barry asked.

“There was this ad slipped into my tennis locker at school today and I just called the number.”

Red alarm, thought Barry.

“H-how do you mean 'an ad’?” Barry leaned forwards on the table.

“There’s always people looking to make an extra buck around the school, Barry. Our tennis lockers are always full of different ads - cheaper textbooks, supplies, tutors. I got it yesterday and since I failed my test today I figured why not.”

“And who answered the call? Did he give you a clear identification?”

“It was a guy, said his name was Alonso. He’s a biology major but no, I didn’t get all his ID stuff. It’s just a tutor and it’s from school.”

Barry thought about his next words really carefully, wanting to save her from another episode of nervousness. And then he realized: why tell her? Clearly, she hadn’t realized this ad was a fake and that it had been a nasty trick by whomever was following her. She was just barely making it.

Instead, he had come up with a better solution.

“Okay, clearly the guy’s not coming-”

“Clearly,” Belén shook her head.

“But that’s okay,” Barry went on, broadly smiling. “If you want some extra help with this class, I can do it.”

“I had considered that before,” Belén glanced at her textbook. “Actually, my Dad was the one to point out that I do have some very smart friends. After I failed the test I considered asking Caitlin first…”

“I can do it,” Barry insisted. “I’m definitely more fun.” That last one made her chuckle and made Barry much happier. “I can definitely do it, Bells.”

“I mean…” Belén began, closer to agreeing, “…I suppose it would be easier and much more comfortable with someone I already know. How much do you want?”

“What?” Barry laughed.

“Your fee - how much do you want?”

“Bells,” Barry continued laughing and unintentionally made her think she’d said something wrong.

“I’m…sorry?”

“Belén, I’m your friend, I want to help you not charge!”

Belén blinked. “But…but you can’t just do it for free. You have things to do, you might as well get something in return.”

“You want me to charge you?”

“Yes!”

Barry swayed his head and thought for a minute. “You want a fee? Here’s the fee: if you get a B on your next exam you owe me a cup of coffee.”

“And what if I get an A?” Belén challenged.

“Then you owe me a good drink.”

Belén chuckled and nodded her head in agreement. “Alright. I’ll take that deal.”

“Great!” Barry couldn’t show his full relief at this news and settled for getting up from his chair and going to her side just to hug her.

“You’re that happy because you get to tutor me?” Belén yanked away and looked up at him with a face of confusion yet amusement. “You do realize what you just got yourself into, right?”

“C'mon, we can get started right now if you’d like.”

“I thought you said we should go to the station for my little problem remember?” Belén sighed. “Since my tutor is a no-show I guess we can do that.”

“Right,” Barry nodded and helped her out of her seat. “Let’s go do that and then we can go wherever you want to study.”

Belén agreed and grabbed her things to leave. As the two left Jitters they didn’t notice the man in a gray hoodie following them from across the street. His eyes were trained on the ombre-blonde, eyes briefly flickering to Barry.

~ 0 ~

Cisco hurried into the cortex room with a mug in hand, nearly spilling its contents as he fumbled to pick up his cellphone left behind on the desk. “Yello!?”

“Cisco,” came Barry’s voice on the other line, “I need a favor.”

“What is it?” Cisco sat down on a chair and pulled his feet up to the desk.

“See if you can tap into Belén’s college campus - especially the coffee place - and try get anything on that hoodie guy.”

The request surprised Cisco but he couldn’t himself denying a favor that would benefit Belén. “Okay…” he said slowly, straightening up on his chair. “I thought you were taking her to the station-”

“Yeah, we’re here and Belén is talking to Joe. But listen, this is personal. I want to find this guy myself.”

“The Red Streak is on the case,” Cisco smirked, already on board without proper asking. “I like it.”

“So can you do it? I’ll send you anything else Belén leaves with Joe.”

“Of course, leave it to me!” Cisco hung up, put his phone down and cracked his fingers to get to work.

~ 0 ~

There was an incessant knocking on an apartment door, and soon enough came the owner of said apartment, mad as hell. “I’m coming! I’m coming!” the petite blonde stalked up to the door and opened it up. “What the hell do you - HEY!”

Plasticine strode into the apartment without so much of a care for the blonde. “Rayan? RAYAN!” she called.

“Hey! You want to shout a little louder? I don’t think the next block hear yah!” the blonde snapped behind Plasticine, shutting the door.

Plasticine paid her no attention. “Rayan! Come out! You said to be here!”

Rayan emerged from the hallway with a laptop in his arms. “Maritza, do we really have to come here all dressed up? It’s not like Angie doesn’t already know who you are.”

Maritza pulled her mask off her face and threw a glare at Angie. “Well, if we’re on the topic of collecting teammates - I found a new one.”

“Really?” Rayan mused at the idea. “Who is it?”

“A young man, about your age and…this one here,” Rayan gestured to Angie. “Has some trouble with Harrison Wells & STAR Labs. I figured he might have pretty good motivation.”

“Where is he?”

“Right at home where I told him I’d get him if you wanted.”

“We’ll talk about it later, then. Right now, I want you to take care of something. It’s about our sister - she’s been looking for me.”

Maritza made a face, clearly taken aback. “What? N-no, Belén is moving on from your 'death’ and-”

Angie snorted and walked over. “Unlikely considering we tracked the searches to her IP address. I didn’t take your sister to be Sherlock Holmes.”

“No, this has to be a mistake,” Maritza rubbed her temples.

“It's not,” Rayan declared, putting down the laptop on the coffee table. “And we both know that we can’t have Belén looking into my case anymore.”

“So then what do we do?”

Angie smirked. “Well I proposed we give your baby sis a little scare.”

Maritza dropped her hands from her face, letting her mask fall in the process. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing serious,” Angie waved her off. “Just a little warning to make sure she stops. If she’s got no powers then we wouldn’t even have to do much to scare the living crap out of her.”

Maritza glanced at Rayan to see what he thought. The younger man gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I love my sister, but she needs to be stopped. You just can’t hurt her, that’s all.”

“Me? You want me to go and face our sister? Are you serious?”

“You’d be wearing a mask,” Rayan pointed out. “Plus, you can take Angie with you.”

“I can do it on my own if you’d like,” Angie offered kindly, but Maritza would rather die than let her sister face off some woman who could probably care less.

“You have to take her laptop and everything,” Rayan told them both. “We can let her go back to searching.”

“I can take things from the house no problem,” Maritza agreed.

“Then I can take Belén,” Angie raised a finger.

“You’ll be going with who I have trusted with our secret,” Maritza corrected, glancing to Rayan. “The new recruit? I do trust him.”

“Fine. Then get to it,” Rayan said. “Plan it well.”

~ 0 ~

Some time later, Belén and Barry relocated to Belén’s home to begin on that tutoring. Without fully realizing it, Barry had gotten Belén to forget about ever visiting the police station and making that report on her stalker. However, it wasn’t because of a good reason.

“So the process of replication is basically when DNA makes a copy itself - it’s like the basic point for inheritance. When replication happens, the strands separate and then each of them serve as templates for the production of its counterpart. That’s known as semi-conservative replication. Afterwards Cellular proofreading happens which is just like an error-checking process to make sure everything was replicated perfectly.”

Belén had an arm resting on the edge of her kitchen table, her cheek placed on her palm. Her eyes were blinking rapidly while Barry explained. “No, sorry, I lost you when you started speaking Chinese.”

“I wasn’t speaking Chinese…” Barry said slowly, figuring perhaps he has entered a rapid rambling state.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Belén straightened up.

“O-okay, tell me where you got lost?”

“Easy-” Belén gave a nod, “-as soon as your mouth opened up.”

Barry sent an unamused look at her. “Bells…”

“I’m sorry! I’m just stupid at this science stuff, okay?” Belén laughed to herself and glanced at her open biology textbook. “I mean, replication? Transcription? What the hell is all this stuff?”

“Very important stuff,” Barry assured her.

“It's boring stuff,” Belén countered. “Talk to me about journalism stuff. The words, the people, me being out there, that’s important. Or about dancing steps. Not this crummy stuff I won’t ever use.”

Before Barry could prove this was all truly important, the front door opened and Belén’s father walked in. “Belén?”

“Over here, Dad,” Belén waved her hand as she skimmed another page of this replication stuff.

“What’s going on here?” David eyed the table full of school work on his way to the fridge.

“I got myself a tutor,” Belén gestured to Barry beside her.

“Well it was about time,” David walked back to them with a bottle of Gatorade in hand. “Barry, was it?”

“Yes,” Barry rose up from his chair to shake hands with the man. “Nice to meet you.”

“So, how’s she doing?”

“Umm…” the look on Barry’s face said it all.

“Belén, pay attention,” her father scolded her like she was doing it all on purpose.

“What!? Seriously!? I don’t plan this you know!” she groaned. “I’m actually trying my best but this is all completely ridiculous with all these terms and different processes and crazy pictures and-”

“Stop rambling and listen,” David smiled and looked at Barry almost sympathetically. “Good luck, Barry.”

“Dad!” Belén called after him, mortified at such a lack of belief in her. Barry was laughing beside her and instigated a very offended “Quit laughing at me!” from her.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Barry tried sobering up fast and scooted his chair closer to hers, “Let’s try this again, alright?” Belén nodded and did her best to pay attention.

But then a cellphone went off.

“Sorry,” Barry made a face as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. “It’s Joe,” he said right before answering.

Belén smiled and got up to give them some privacy. She went for the kitchen intending on finding a snack somewhere. Between her schoolwork and research, she hadn’t paid much attention to the house needs.

“Bells, I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Barry apologized and stood up. “There’s been a robbery and…”

“It’s alright,” Belén waved it off and turned around. “We can continue tomorrow if you’d like - or can.”

“Definitely,” Barry said quickly.

Belén’s smile faltered when everything spun in front of her.

“Bells!” Barry ran over to her just as she slumped forwards, catching her. “What is it? What’s wrong!?”

Belén cursed her body’s imprudence and tried to get through the moment as fast as possible. “I’m-I’m fine…” she swallowed hard.

She was not fine.

Barry leaned her against the counter and rushed to get her a glass of water. “Don’t lie to me, Belén. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, remember?”

Belén took the glass from him and drank a little. “And during that time I was having trouble with my classes…remember? It’s just burn out, nothing more.” Barry didn’t look the least bit convinced. “Don’t you have a case to go to?” Belén asked impatiently, putting down her glass on the counter.

Barry only left the conversation because Joe really was waiting for him to arrive and take samples from the crime scene. “Please, just…get some rest?”

“I can do that,” Belén nodded calmly, the light smile on her lips would’ve convinced anyone who didn’t know her. But, Barry knew her much more than she thought.

The moment he was out on the street, he dialed a number on his phone.

“Hello?” Iris chirped.

“Iris, I need a favor,” Barry wondered just how many times he was going to use that line on behalf of Belén…but that was going to be for another moment.

“Sure, what do you need?”

Barry glanced back at Belén’s house, and explained to Iris.

~ 0 ~

That same night, much later, Belén was pulled out of her research when someone knocked on the door - and much too excitedly she added silently.

“Hiiii!” Iris exclaimed happily, waving a hand while the other held a duffel bag.

Belén made a face. “Iris? What are you doing here?”

“I’m sleeping over - random girls’ night!”

“Wh-what?” Belén barely got to say when Iris walked right in.

“Hello, Mr. Palayta,” Iris greeted Belén’s father from the kitchen.

“Hi Iris,” David gave a warm smile in return. “What brings you here?”

“There’s just sooo many things I want to talk about with Bells and I figured since my Dad is working late with Eddie I could maybe sleep over?” Iris put her hands together with that wide smile that no one could resist.

David just chuckled and gave his approving nod. “You’re always welcomed here, Iris.”

“Oh, thank you!” Iris cheered and turned back for Belén who was still registering the fact she had a new guest and thus her ongoing research would be put on hold. “C'mon, Bells!” She grabbed her duffel bag and took her friend upstairs.

Though Belén was mildly upset with Iris’ surprise visit, she soon left the idea of sending her back home using a lame excuse. The truth was she missed normal friendship sleepovers. Everything as of late had become so entangled Belén barely had time to breath.

Iris was a reminder that she was indeed normal, and that she deserved more normal moments.

Like painting each other’s nails.

“Iris, I don’t want that color,” Belén was scrunching her face at the pastel turquoise nail polish Iris was opening up.

“It goes great with you,” was Iris’ main defense as she set down the nail polish on Belén’s nightstand and shuffled on the bed to begin.

“Oh, Iris,” Belén sighed but gave in without another word. She let Iris take her right hand and watched her delicately paint over her thumb’s nail.

“Soo…you want to explain why Barry all of a sudden didn’t want to leave your side today?” Iris discreetly raised her eyes up to her friend, who was already looking nervous.

She was no fool, even if Barry didn’t tell her why he wanted - no, sorry, why he believed it would be a good idea for her to stay at Belén’s for a night, Iris knew it had something to do with whatever was bothering Belén earlier at Jitters.

“Iris…” Belén sighed, looking to the side.

“Bells,” Iris gently tugged her wrist and forced them to look at each other, “You and I are good friends, right?”

“Like best friends,” Belén clarified quietly.

“And best friends always tell each other what’s going on. Please, have some trust in me.”

Belén released a low sigh and nodded her head. “Okay, but you can’t tell my Dad under any circumstances.”

“Promise,” Iris raised a hand then went back to painting Belén’s nails.

“Someone’s been following me for some time now, and I told Barry and Cisco about it.”

“Why them?” Iris made a face then silently thought about it. Since Belén and Cisco nearly dated they had formed a strong bond that had Cisco like a male best friend. Iris could see why Belén would go to him. And Barry? Well…Barry just had one of those traits that made one immediately trust him.

“I needed to tell someone,” Belén went on without knowledge of Iris’ inner thoughts. “I went into STAR Labs and they were there. My mouth started before I could even realize.”

“Please tell me you’ve gone to the police about this already?”

“Yeah, Barry took me this afternoon and I talked to your Dad. I practically begged him not to say anything to my father - hooray for being a legal adult,” Belén made a languid gesture before sighing again. “I’m scared, Iris. I’ve never been in a situation like this and…I don’t know how to forget the fact that some creeper is following me.”

Iris now understood perfectly why she was here. She finished Belén’s right hand and began painting the pinkie finger of her left hand. “Well, you won’t be left alone that’s for sure. If I’m not with you, then Barry will be, or Cisco, or Caitlin. You won’t be alone.”

Belén suspiciously looked at her friend for a minute before it hit her. “Did Barry tell you to come here tonight?” The answer was crystal clear when Iris stiffened. “Oh my God it is. You’re here to babysit me.”

“Please don’t tell Barry I messed it up,” Iris shook her head. “I didn’t know this was the reason - he was very obscure with his words.”

“Oh my God!”

“No, but it’s okay!” Iris took down Belén’s flapping hands. “We haven’t had one sleepover since Barry went into the coma.”

“But that’s just it, Iris,” Belén snatched her hands and got up from the bed. “This isn’t a sleepover: it’s a babysitting job.”

“No it’s not!” Iris insisted, staying on her spot.

“So if Barry hadn’t called you then you would still be here?”

Iris bit her lip, nervously smiling. “Okay, so…maybe it kinda is like babysitting but it’s clear I’m not actually babysitting right now. I miss my friend, Bells. Are you really going to get mad at me?”

Belén dropped her arms on her sides and sat back down. “I’m not mad with anyone, I’m simply disagree with what Barry did.”

“Then let’s forget all about this and just focus on a sleepover! I vote we do this every week,” Iris laughed.

“That doesn’t sound half bad, honestly,” Belén mused. “Maybe I can even get Caitlin to come.”

“Oh, yes!” Iris pointed in agreement. “Poor girl stuck in between all that testosterone can’t be fun for her.”

Belén laughed and fully agreed. And as the night progressed she really did end up forgetting her problems.

~ 0 ~

“I can’t believe you guys are actually doing this,” Caitlin declared, but of course she didn’t mean it. Of course she believed Barry and Cisco would spend an entire afternoon working to find out who was Belén’s stalker. Of course.

“We wanted to help, Cait,” Barry shrugged, much too focused on the computer screen Cisco was working on to look at her. “The police simply aren’t fast enough.”

“But of course you are,” Dr. Wells mused, exchanging a knowing look with Caitlin.

“Exactly,” Barry said without noticing the looks.

“But so far there’s not enough footage,” Cisco remarked after pausing an ongoing security video. “I mean, there’s the guy,” he pointed at the hoodie man, “but it’s blurry.”

“So, just clear it up,” Caitlin shrugged.

“That can take hours.”

“Which you have.”

“Caitlin’s right,” Barry straightened. “You do that and I’ll check up on Bells.”

“Right, give me the boring job,” Cisco playfully rolled his eyes.

“I have to tutor actually, so believe me it won’t be all that glamorous.”

Barry was only midway towards the exit when everyone did a simultaneous 'woah’ and called him back.

“Now you're tutoring her?” Caitlin raised an eyebrow.

“It was the only she would stop putting herself in danger!”

The other three traded looks before all agreeing that was a horrible excuse.

Barry sighed and explained more fully his reasons. “I figured out that the tutor Belén was actually going to meet was her stalker. She called him and everything. I had to do something, alright?”

“Wait, she called him?” Cisco asked. “And he, like…answered?”

“Yeah…” Barry then realized it was certainly useful information. “Wait, do you think we could track the guy down with the phone?”

“Uhh…” Cisco honestly thought about it. “I don’t know…”

“We can do it,” Barry was already going on with the plan. “I take her phone and we track the call.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“She’s going to be work anyways it’s not like she’ll need it,” Barry shrugged.

“Besides-” Caitlin interjected, “-she’ll have her very own bodyguard in the meantime,” she smirked to herself and turned to her computer.

Barry rolled his eyes and sped out of the room.

Cisco looked Caitlin’s way and ended up smirking too. “I bet you twenty a date will come up in the next month.”

“What?” Caitlin blinked, looking indignant that this was turning into a game. She only joked with Barry because it was fun annoying him but she wouldn’t make money off actual feelings.

“Alright two months,” Cisco offered.

“Cisco!”

“I’ll join the bet,” Dr. Wells chimed in, surprising the two younger employees. “I like to have fun,” he reasoned after the looks he received.

“One month?” Cisco repeated.

“Two months.”

“Deal!”

Caitlin looked between the two men, feeling incredibly guilty as she cut in. “Belén’s too shy, like the counterpart of Barry, it’d be at least three months till one of them makes a move.”

Cisco’s wide, teasing smile made her feel worse. “One, two three months, alright!”

~ 0 ~

“You know, I don’t appreciate you sending Iris as a babysitter,” Belén remarked as she and Barry walked down a street, heading for CC Pictures.

Barry winced and sheepishly glanced down at her. “You know?”

“Yes, and I’m not happy about that.”

“I’m sorry, Bells, I was just trying to help…”

Belén smiled when she saw the instant guilt in him. She would let him off with a warning, she decided. “I appreciate your concern but I don’t think Iris should be dragged into my problems. She’s got a lot of stuff to do.”

“She didn’t mind,” Barry waved it off. Belén laughed and shook her head at him. He could act like such a child sometimes. “So I was thinking about our tutoring problem,” Barry changed the subject successfully, “And I realized you were right about something.”

“And that would be?” Belén wondered. It wasn’t common for her to be right about something concerning biology.

“You’re a journalist,” Barry declared, almost like it was a secret even she didn’t know, “Which means you’re used to seeing things face to face - like interviews and videos. You’re a visual learner!”

“And that means…?” Belén silently laughed at herself for ever thinking she would’ve been right about something in biology.

“A perfect way to tutor you is to use visualization. You know, like we can use simple things to recreate what I’m talking about.”

“Like blocks? And play-doh? That’s what kindergarten classes do to teach the students, no?”

“Yes!” Barry pointed. “We can use all that to help you understand!”

Belén giggled. “Great, so I’ll be a kindergartner. Will I get milk and cookies during a break?”

Barry played along and nodded his head. “If you’re extra good there may even be apple juice.”

“I don’t like Apple juice,” Belén scrunched her nose with distaste.

“Orange juice?”

“There we go!”

Barry grinned at her enthusiasm, and the fact she was forgetting of her problem. They came to a stop just outside CC Pictures.

“So, we’ll see each other tomorrow for that tutoring right?” he asked.

“Mhm, and I’ll ask Maritza if she can loan me some of her classroom bits for the session,” Belén laughed.

“Right,” Barry gave her a hug, and he discreetly dipped a hand into her bag to pull out her phone. He hated stealing from her but he conformed with the idea he would be tracking down the creep who was stalking her. If she got mad, he would find a way to make it up to her.

After bidding goodbye, Belén watched Barry leave a couple seconds before entering the news place. At the end of the street, the hoodie man stepped out behind a pole. His eyes had narrowed at the exchange between the two. He needed to act fast before anything more happened.

~ 0 ~

“I don’t…I don’t know…” Cisco let his hands lightly slam on the desk. Barry sighed beside him, letting his head hang. “It’s just we don’t have the expertise to do this.”

“We’re scientists, not hackers,” Caitlin mused from her spot at the desk. “It’s one thing to hack into street security cameras but a single phone searching for a single contact is tougher.” She was drinking from a mug of coffee and amusingly staring at the two while they desperately tried hacking into Belén’s phone. They’d been at it for a near two hours with no progress.

“Caitlin, please, we’re trying to work,” Cisco rolled his eyes at her.

“I’m just pointing out a simple truth,” Caitlin raised a hand in surrender.

“There has to be a way we could track the caller,” Barry persisted, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m open for ideas,” Cisco expectantly looked at him, arms crossed.

Barry began to pace while he thought of an actual idea. Five minutes later, he stopped. “There is…one person…that’s incredibly good with computers.”

“Who?” both Cisco and Caitlin looked at him curiously.

Barry turned to them, his hands behind his head, somewhat nervous. “Someone’s I’ve neglected to give a call since I woke up from the coma.”

The obscure answer left Cisco and Caitlin in the same state of confusion and curiosity they were in before the answer.

~ 0 ~

“I don’t understand where my phone went,” Belén exasperatedly rummaged through her bag for her cellphone. Linda stared at the intern, in right entertainment as Belén went from one desk to another thinking she’d dropped it there. “I can’t believe this!” Belén exclaimed and stopped when she remembered the last time she’d used her phone. “Oh! Maybe it’s on the street!”

“I doubt it’ll still be there,” Linda called but Belén was already on her way out.

It was beginning to get dark but Belén was confident she would find her phone again. She remembered the way Barry had walked them through and followed it. But when she turned down the block, she bumped into someone - a woman in leather purple.

“S-sorry,” Belén stumbled back, her smile fading when she looked up to the woman.

Though she wore a purple mask covering the top half of her face, her eyes bore on Belén in an intense way. Her burned brunette hair was as shiny as her clothing. “Belén Palayta?” the modulated voice of Plasticine stirred a fear in Belén.

“Wh-who are you?” Belén swallowed hard, discreetly moving back to the street of CC Pictures.

“Plasticine.” The woman took steps towards Belén. “You’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Belén. And it has to stop.”

There was a crash of windows that made Belén jump and whirl to the direction of her workplace. She caught two masked people breaking in with weapons.

“Oh my God!” she meant to run after them but Plasticine grabbed her by the neck and yanked her back. Belén gasped for air as the arm tightly gripped her neck.

“This is a warning, Belén,” Plasticine murmured in Belén’s ear. “Stop your silly search for your brother. He's dead. He served his function to our crew and we killed him.”

“Wha-”

Plasticine shoved her to the ground and stepped a black heeled boot beside Belén’s head, startling the blonde. “Next time you get the urge to research about us we’ll make our anger known. Whether it’s through your father or your little friends.”

Belén fearfully gazed up at the tall woman, her hot tears pricking her eyes but not daring to escape in front of the stranger. “What happened to my brother?”

“He died,” Plasticine looked past her to the end of the street where her two comrades had come out of the news place already. “This was your first and final warning, Belén. Heed it.” She walked past Belén and strode down the rest of the street.

“No, wait!” Belén scrambled to get up but Plasticine shot out a purple, shapeless mass her way. Belén yelped and let herself fall again to dodge the mass in time.

Plasticine stopped beside CC Pictures to observe the destruction her two comrades had made. She could see that her sister’s desk had been completely ransacked of everything. She’d already taken care of the house so that meant Belén would have nothing left to search with. Feeling secure, she ran off.

“No!” Belén saw her one chance of finding her brother (whether dead or alive by that point) disappearing. She got up and made to run when someone grabbed her from behind, in a choke-hold.

Everything went dark soon after.

~ 0 ~

Usually, CC Pictures was the place where news was given out, not the center where the news took place. This time, the photography was aimed towards the inside of the building.

“I don’t know what happened - one moment we were working, the next these two people come in and start bashing things with these…these weird powers…” Linda Park was giving her testimony to Eddie Thawne by her desk that had miraculously stayed together and unturned.

Meanwhile, Barry was carefully examining the destruction at the other end of the room. Joe came up beside him inquiring the status of the scene. “So we’ve got new metahumans in the city. One has…” Barry gestured to the bits and pieces of ice shards left scattered around, “…ice powers. The other was reported to use some sort of electrical power. She appeared and disappeared. But the interesting part is they came looking for Belén’s things,” Barry narrowed his eyes, struggling to push away the overwhelming urge to speed out and begin the search for Belén.

“They destroyed her computer,” Joe pointed to the bits and pieces that used to be Belén’s laptop on the floor. “Ripped up all her papers - they basically destroyed everything of hers. And, what they didn’t, they took. There was also a sighing of that purple girl Cisco talks about sometimes, but she didn’t do anything except stand there.”

“Why? Why would they do that?” Barry turned away, balling a fist on his side. “It doesn’t make sense!”

“Hey, Barry?” Linda called out to Barry once she finished her testimony. Joe left to go converse with Eddie over the new testimony in case it was useful. “You need to find my friend,” it sounded like an order but she didn’t quite care how it came out.

“We will,” Barry nodded. “I’m gonna get on it right now.”

“Do you have any idea who those people were?” Linda asked, stopping him from walking away. “Because it sounded like they knew her. I know Belén and she doesn’t make those types of friends.”

“No, I don’t think she knew them,” Barry sighed.

“Do you think…that maybe those people were there because Belén refuses to let go of her brother’s disappearance?”

The question struck realization in Barry.

“Belén didn’t tell me straight up but I know she hasn’t let go of Rayan’s case. Whenever she’s on a break she’s always on the laptop of hers. It’s pretty easy to put two and two.” Linda crossed her arms and lowered her tone. “Those people that came in asked only for Belén’s things and destroyed just her things. They said something of a lesson…what else could they be talking about?”

Linda Park was a genius, Barry immediately thought.

“Did you hear anything else?” Barry inquired. “Anything that could help us?”

“Just what I told Detective Thawne,” Linda shrugged, “The purple woman - the one that shoots those purple things - they were talking about her, I know they were. She’s the one who was standing outside…and I’m guessing she’s the one that took Belén in the end.”

“What was Belén doing outside in the first place?”

“Looking for her phone. She dropped it somewhere and when she went out that’s when the people came in.”

Barry felt a bad ping in his heart after that. It was his fault, no doubt. He took her phone and Belén went outside in search of it.

“Barry?” Linda’s voice brought him back to the present. She was giving him a motion but he didn’t quite catch it. “Your phone, it’s ringing.”

“What?” that’s when Barry realized his phone was indeed ringing, and relentlessly. Linda lightly smiled and walked away, leaving him to tend to the call. “Cisco, what is it?”

~ 0 ~

At STAR Labs, both Cisco and Caitlin were staring wide-eyed at the computer screen.

The hoodie man had been identified.

“Felicity got back to us,” Cisco began, his skin crawling with both fury and overwhelming fear.

“And?” Barry’s impatient tone went unnoticed by the two employees.

“You’ll never believe who took her…”

“He’s been M.I.A for months now,” Caitlin remarked off to the side.

“Who!?” Barry practically shouted from the other line.

~ 0 ~

“Wakey, wakey, my dear Belén,” went a familiar voice.

Belén was tied to wooden chair, her head hanging with her ombre blonde hair draped in front. She could hear the voice, and slowly configured it to its owner. She raised her head, and though hair strands still covered her face, she saw perfectly the man in the gray hoodie.

“C-Carlton?”

[5saucefanfic]

More - LH

HAPPY VICTORIA FASHION SHOW DAY! Kisses to all. Hope you enjoy the show and a bit of Luke too

She stretched her arms wide, loud yawn escaping her before dropping her arms heavily onto the comforter surrounding her body. The sun peeked through her shades that were half drawn, sunlight illuminating the floor in front of her large bed, pillows strewn every which way due to her overnight guest not wanting to drown in the soft cushions she seemed to enjoy collecting in her spare time, a new square piece of fabric collected from different places she had visited, the names scrawled out in the lovely fabric they were made out of.

She looked to her left seeing the bed empty, a frown falling onto her lips until the smell from the kitchen came wafting its way into her room, legs quickly swinging over the side of the bed, feet padding along the hardwood floor of her apartment until she saw the curly locks of her boyfriend’s hair, bare back facing her as she could easily count the numerous freckles scattered across his back. She was surprised he was up so early, flight not having got in until late the previous night, yet here he was.

“Morning,” she mumbled softly, arms wrapping around his waist from behind as she placed a small kiss to the center of his back, fingers rubbing his stomach lightly as she felt him relax even more so than he seemed to be. Her New York home had always been an escape for him, “a home away from home, away from home” as he liked to call it, and even though it was easy to become overwhelmed in the city that never sleeps, it was easy for him to get lost as well and be just Luke Hemmings. There were nearly 2 million people in Manhattan, and not nearly half of them knew of his existence.

“Morning, love,” he said turning to face her pressing his lips to her softly and quickly. “Made your favorite for the big day.” The big day, probably one of the most important and prominent days of her life at that moment. Not only was this going to be her first Victoria’s Secret fashion show, but she was getting wings as well, not something that every model that’s walked the runway can say.

Her career took off rather quickly within the last two years, starting as a catalogue model for small brands, to somehow booking gigs with the parent and daughter company of VS. She’d ditched her vans for heels, small town friends for big names like Gigi Hadid and Kendall Jenner, small town apartment to one right in the heart of NYC. There were many things she could compare and contrast her previous life to, but the best would have to be the blue eyed beauty right in front of her, making her blueberry pancakes and bacon to celebrate a day that was probably just as important for him. Not only was his girlfriend about to walk in one of the biggest fashion shows of the year, but he was performing with his three best friends. That was something to celebrate as well.

“What time do you have to meet with the boys for soundcheck?” she asked as she set the table, Luke finishing the plating of the food, carrying them to the table where she was sat waiting for him already.

“Three, then we have to get ready for the carpet,” he said nodding. “Probably won’t see you again until we’re on the runway, right?” he asked as she nodded shoveling two cakes onto her plate, piling them up with butter.

“Really shouldn’t be eating this,” she said laughing softly as he smiled wide, his smile only growing as a small moan left her throat. Yeah, maybe she shouldn’t be eating it, but it calms her nerves ever so slightly, just enough to be able to kiss her boyfriend goodbye and usher him out the door. It calms her nerves enough to slide on the YSL black jumpsuit Luke had brought for her, a gift from him for her big day, matching black booties accompanying her feet as she sat for hair and makeup in her dining room, Nala perched in her lap curled into a ball taking a nap. The comfort slowly fading as she became more and more anxious, knowing she was about to walk the carpet lonesome, her own doing wanting to keep her relationship with Luke a secret.

‘Just until i can prove I did this on my own,’ she had said to him over the phone during a late night argument over the phone...late night for her, midday for him considering he had been in Japan at the time, just starting his tour for album number 3. ‘I want to make a name for myself, and as much as I want everyone to know, I want them to know after I’m the next Gigi.’

‘You aren’t gonna be the next Gigi baby...you’re gonna be Y/n, which is a hell of a lot better than a Gigi.’

He had more faith in her at the time than she had in herself, and she couldn’t thank him enough for it all.

“I’m gonna do it,” Luke said as he tested his mic during their soundcheck, the venue for the show finishing the last minute preparations before the carpet started. Calum was standing next to him testing the sound of his bass in his ears.

“And you’re sure she wants you to?” He asked chuckling softly as Luke shrugged slightly. If he was being honest, he was worrying about it a bit and whether or not she’d be royally pissed off at him if he so publicly spilled their secret on national television during one of her biggest moments, but then they couldn’t say he had gotten her to that point.

“She technically said we can announce it after she makes it big like this, and if the fashion show isn’t big then I don’t know what we’re waiting for..” he said shrugging slightly.

“Fair enough, but just know she may be a little irritated,” he said shrugging as Michael and Ashton came out onto the stage. “Hey guys, what do you think about Luke kissing Y/n as she walks down the runway?”

“Go big or go home right?” Ashton asked chuckling. “Besides, why not? Didn’t Adam Levine do that before?”

“Technically it was her cheek,” Calum said pointing to both of them. “And I bet you right now that he had to ask special permission to do something like that.”

“Why? That gets more ratings! And if they hate it, they can edit it out. It’s not like they’re showing it right no-,” Ashton rebutted, Luke quickly stopping them as he sighed shaking his head quickly regretting his decision to bring it up with his friends. It wasn’t anything like what he was expecting, and it absolutely wasn’t their problem. Luke knew what he wanted to do, and what he was going to do.

“Just shut up and let’s get this going so I can shower,” he sighed shaking his head making his way back to his mic stand.

The pink carpet. Not JUST the pink carpet, but in the heart of New York City, with Jelena Hadid attached to her arm as they posed for pictures, the photographers and journalists shouting questions at the two like rapidfire, along with the overwhelming flashes of the camera.

“Gi, where’s Zayn? Are you two on another break?”

“Y/n, rumor has it Luke Hemmings of 5 Seconds of Summer spent the night. Comment?”

“Gigi”

“Y/n”

Over and over as she tried to ignore the questions being thrown at them. “It’s best to just ignore and smile pretty,” Gigi whispered to her as they made it down the line of the carpet, her nerves only intensifying as they got closer and closer to the dressing room, which meant she was only getting closer and closer to walking down the runway.

“You’re gonna do amazing, y/n,” Kendall said standing next to her friend who was getting done in her hair and makeup, dressed for her dark angel’s appearance, one of her favorite parts of the show and she was more than honored to be a part of it. And it only helped that the boys would be playing during that part, easing her nerves. “I was in your position only three years ago. Just take your time. Don’t walk too fast. And have fun.”

“And we’ll both be right off to the side waiting for you to get off, okay?” Gigi asked as she nodded sliding off her chair, adjusting the bra straps before letting the artist attach the wings to her back. “You look amazing.”

“I love you both,” she said happily hugging both Gigi and Kendall before making her way to the side of the stage jumping in her place in line, taking a deep breath as she heard the beat to More start playing, just another reason for her to relax.

She watched Luke singing from the side of the stage as girls slowly made their way out onto the runway, one by one, walking to the beat of her favorite song. She watched as girls she’s looked up to for years took the stage just before her; girls like Cindy Bruna, Adriana Lima, and Sara Sampaio, all models who were the reasons she trained so hard to aspire to be who she was now, walk just before her opening the segment. Lais Riberio was next, walking out just in front of her knowing she was up next, the camera coming up to her catching her moments before the stage as she waved at the camera as the set director queued her for her walk. She took another deep breath as she started her walk down the runway as the chorus started, eyes locking with Luke as a smirk came on his face not even trying to hide that fact he was blatantly checking her out on the runway. She blushed slightly smiling wide keeping her head up.

“All the things that we dream about, they don’t mean what they did before…,” he said holding his hand out to her as she made her way towards the center. “I just wanna get back to us cause we used to have more…” she rolled her eyes laughing softly as she made her way down smiling at the camera still holding Luke’s hand as he continued to sing. She let go of his hand when she got to the front, posing for the cameras as the fan blew on her, jumping slightly feeling an arm around her waist, turning to look to the side catching Luke’s lips against her own as she gasped slightly, Luke pulling back just as quick as it happened, winking at her before running back down the runway. She bit her lip softly hearing the cheers get louder as she turned, making her return trip as she bit her lip glaring at the blonde in front of her, another wink leaving him.

‘I hate you’ She mouthed to him.

‘No you don’t,’ he mouthed back before watching her walk backstage, Gigi and Kendall hugging her tightly as she laughed happily hugging them back tightly.

“So...Luke Hemmings?”

[hes-woman]

Halloween 2018

Sloppy lips met your cheek, dragging down to your jaw and suckling on the skin there. Grabby hands found your hips, rubbing gently as Harry sidled up next to you, a cheeky, lopsided grin plastered on his face. His fingers slipped under the hem of your skeleton top, your last minute attempt of a costume, which you brought reluctantly after your search for an outfit that would fit over your pregnancy bump proved to be more difficult than you anticipated.

After over 5 years together, you’d become extremely familiar with drunk Harry, so not even him leaning his full weight on your body could distract you from your conversation. “I’m getting a bit antsy now, if I’m honest. It gets a bit boring being cooped up all day, when everyone else is at work and I've got nothing to keep me occupied. And-”

“Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” Harry whined, bumping his head on your shoulder in protest.

“H, I’m talking to your sister, why don’t you go see if you can find Jeff or someone for a bit?”

“Don’ want Jeff. He’s not pretty and I can’t kiss him like I wanna kiss you,” he persists, “Gem’s boring anyway, m’definitely the better sibling,” his eyes widened as he turned to face his sister, “don’t tell mum I said that, she might ground me.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” you laughed, moving his arm so it was rested over your shoulder, “d’you think it’s time for you to call it a night?”

He shook his head, lips forming a pout as he silently begged you not to make him go to bed. “M’perfectly fine, just wanted to spend some time with you, y’are my wife, after all.”

“C’mon then,” you led him over to an empty stool in the kitchen, sharing a knowing look with Gemma as you mouthed a quick apology.

“Love you, baby,” he sheepishly smiled, tugging you in between his legs and splaying his hands across the expanse of your back, “are you mad at me?”

“’Course not, why would I be mad?”

“’Cause I drank a bit more than a little an’ I’m taking you away from being a good hostess.”

“As long as you’re having a good time and not throwing up all over the carpet, like you did on our first halloween together, I couldn’t be mad at you, you nutter. ‘Sides, you’re drinking for two.”

“Yeah, ‘cause there’s a baby inside my baby,” his hands slid round to your front, slipping under your top, a smirk spreading across his face at the way your body shivered under his touch. “Feel like I’ve barely seen you all night, thought maybe you’d been avoiding me.”

“You really are a paranoid drunk, huh?” you teased, “was just letting you socialise for a bit. Felt bad for keeping you away from all your friends when you stay in with me.”

“Like you a whole lot more than m’friends,” he mumbled, resting his head on your chest, with his nose nudging at your neck. “We’re a proper married couple now, ‘bout to officially start our own family, think we can finally admit that we wanna stay at home food from the chippy and watch some shitty tv.”

“Valid point there. Look a bit tired, H, you sure you don’t wanna go to bed?” you asked, receiving another defiant shake of his head (well, you assumed that’s what he was going for but his movement was restricted since his head was still firmly planted on you).

“Jus’ resting my eyes for a bit.”

“There you two are!” Nick cheered as he spotted you from the kitchen doorway, arms widespread to wrap his arms around the two of you, “was eginning to think maybe you’d both gone off to bed, like the old grandparents you’ve both become.”

“I’d like to see you grow a whole human inside of you and still be the life of the party, Grim,” you scrunched your nose up at him, but the smile you tried (and failed) to keep from creeping onto your face did nothing to stop his snickers.

“Don’t be mean to m’wife,” Harry grumbled, raising his head slightly to narrow his eyes, “s’my house an’ I’ll kick you out.”

“Someone’s feeling a bit grumpy,” Nick reached out to pinch Harry’s cheek playfully, to which he received a growl and a swat of his hand. He blew Harry a kiss, before turning to you, “He does actually look a bit worn out, maybe you should just take him to bed. People are beginning to leave, that’s why I came to look for you, actually. Reckon everyone who isn’t staying will be gone within half an hour, so if you do a quick round of the room no one will notice if you disappear.”

“Told you m’not tired,” Harry lifted himself off of you so that he was sitting up straight, glaring at the two of you.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Nick offered, pushing you in the direction of the door.

You found Harry, nearly an hour later, sprawled out on the sofa in your living room, head fallen forward and his eyes drifting shut every so often only to be forced open again, in his attempt to fight the sleep that so desperately tried to consume him.

Thinking back on it now, you weren’t quite sure why you thought it was a good idea to throw a halloween party, two months away from your due date. You were exhausted, to say the least; the combination of long, busy days and restless nights had well and truly taken its toll on you. To add to that, you felt as if you were completely behind schedule – the lack of a finished nursery and sufficient baby equipment were largely to blame for that.

You supposed that, like you’d told him earlier, you felt guilty for stopping Harry from seeing his friends and even limiting the time he spends visiting his family. While your sane mind was well aware that it was solely his choice to accompany you on your nights in, spent eating countless takeaways and enjoying countless bubble baths, your pregnancy brain wasn’t exactly your best friend. It seemed like you were overthinking ever single small move at the moment, reading far too deep into everything Harry said or did.

That didn’t mean you hadn’t enjoyed yourself tonight. Having all of the people you were closest to in one place was something that rarely happened, and the fact you hadn’t seen a lot of these people in a while due to conflicting schedules made it even more special. But seeing Harry lying on your sofa on the verge of sleep made you realise that, maybe Harry was right, quiet nights in weren’t something you should avoid, and that, just maybe, the days when the two of you could survive into the early hours of the morning were a thing of the past.

“Hey, handsome,” you whispered so as not to startle him, watching as he smiled sleepily in response to the pet name, “what are you doing all on your lonesome?”

“Mum said to tell you g’night and that she’ll see you in the morning. Think Gem said something similar to that but I can’t really remember.”

“C’mon then, mister, think it’s time for us to get to bed, too,” you reached out for his arm, which he allowed you to take but continued to mumble that “m’not tired, wanna stay and dance”, despite his apparent inability to stand without support, let alone dance.

You managed to get him up the stairs and into your bedroom without much difficulty – the reassurance that you’d be joining seemed to settle him – with him happily climbing onto the bed and stretching out like a starfish. You thought he’d fallen asleep when he begn to whimper, “where’ve you gone? Miss you.”

“I’m right here, numpty. What’re you getting yourself in a state for?” you laughed, brushing your thumb over his cheek in a comforting manner.

“Just checking. Don’t go anywhere, m’kay?”

“I’ll stay right here, promise.”

“Happy Halloween,” he grinned goofily, eyes shutting as he finally fell asleep, leaving you to attempt to undress him from his glittery costume, and find some room in the bed for yourself.

[pretending-ican-write]

Pack Protectors

The basic ‘pack dynamics’ you might need to understand this fic.

McCall pack- Scott McCall, Malia Tate, Liam Dunbar, Theo Raeken and Brett Talbot Hale pack- Derek Hale, Vernon Boyd, Peter Hale, Erica Reyes and Isaac Lahey Emissaries- Jade and Stiles Stilinski Pack people (not weres)- Lydia Martin, Nolan Holloway, Melissa McCall, Sheriff John Stilinski, Jordan Parrish and Chris Argent

Now on with the fic!  5 times they protected the pack and 1 time the pack protected them.

1: Liam and Theo The Stilinski twins were walking through Beacon Hills with their ‘adopted’ brother Liam and Theo.  The latter two were hand in hand whilst Jade and Stiles discussed something Deaton had taught them.

“Am I allowed to ask for brain bleach?” Stiles asked Theo having overheard the conversation.

He smirked, “why on earth would that be Stilinski?”

“Something about Liam and your bed,” the human responded.

His sister piped up, “la la la.  I do not need to hear about my little brother’s sex life!”

“Nobody said anything about sex,” Liam defended half-heartedly.

From across the road, a young woman called out, “get a room fags!”

Jade spun around, “what the hell did you just say to them?”

“You heard.  They shouldn’t be flaunting whatever this is in public,” she responded.

Stiles spoke, “and you shouldn’t be yelling across the street.  It’s bad manners.”

The woman glared at them as she ducked into the post office.  Stiles turned around to see his sister being held back by Theo.

“Hey hey hey.  JJ, calm down.  Deep breaths sweetheart,” he was talking to her quietly whilst Liam was on the phone to, Stiles presumed, Isaac.

Theo caught Stiles’ eye and mouthed a quick thank you.

2: Derek The Stilinski twins were in the supermarket buying the weekly shopping for the Hale-McCall pack, which was a lot considering the number of people they were feeding.  They were stood at the checkout paying for the food when they overheard a couple of women talking.

“Have you seen how good that Hale lad is looking?” The first one said.

The other nodded, “yeah.  It’s a pity he lives alone in that massive house.  I’d certainly be up for some of that.”

“Hold up a minute,” Jade interrupted, “what gives you the right to talk about him like that?”

Stiles continued, “besides, if you must know he doesn’t live by himself.  There is a number of people who might have something to say if they overheard you.”

“What’s so wrong with window shopping?” The second woman asked innocently.

He groaned and continued again, “he is not for sale!  He isn’t an object.  Plus he’s spoken for so shop somewhere else.”

With that, the twins picked up their shopping and walked out to the car park where they loaded the bags into the back of the Jeep.  Stiles started the car and drove them back to the Hale house.  

They arrived back home where they were greeted by Isaac and Erica who helped them unload the shopping bags and bring them into the kitchen where Derek was stood with Argent.

“Hey babe,” he greeted Stiles with a kiss on the cheek, “I heard you defended my honour at the shop.”

The younger boy blushed, “and how did you hear that?”

“I may or may not have text him on way back,” Jade said with a smirk from where she was stood between Isaac’s legs who was sat on the counter.

Her brother groaned, “oh thanks, sis.  What was I meant to do?  Let two random women talk about how they would like to have their way with you?”

“Hey!  I did my part too!” she added defensively.

Derek chuckled, “yeah yeah JJ.  Thanks for protecting my honour.”

“Anytime Der,” Jade said with a salute.

3: Nolan and Brett All the members of the Hale-McCall pack were gathered in the living room of the Hale house for the fortnightly pack meeting.  Stiles, Boyd and Erica were sat on one sofa watching something on Stiles’ phone.  Argent, Parrish, the Sheriff and Derek were sat at the dining room table going over anything that might have been supernatural over the week.  Liam and Jade were playing a racing game with Theo and Isaac either side encouraging their respective partner.  Scott, Malia and Lydia were in the kitchen with Melissa preparing fajitas for everybody.  Peter was sat in an armchair on his laptop whilst Nolan and Brett were curled up on the other sofa.

“Is there any reason you two are sat on your lonesome?” Theo asked from across the room.

Brett looked up, “you what?”

“You two are supposed to be in the pack yet you spend all your time together at pack meetings,” he continued.

The werewolf glared, “well I’m sorry but you haven’t exactly done much to help welcome us in.”

“Right you two pack it in,” Jade demanded whilst continuing to beat Liam, “Theo your input was not required and he is completely right.  And Brett, try not to take what he says to heart, he’s an idiot.”

Both weres glared at the emissary before silently continuing with what they were doing.

Scott watched from the kitchen doorway how Jade had handled the situation and went to Derek, “she’s really come into herself hasn’t she?”

“Jade?  Yeah.  She can put them all back in their place,” the other alpha agreed.

“Tea is ready!  Form an orderly queue or none of you are getting any!” Melissa called from the kitchen.

4: Isaac It was the middle of the night in the Hale house and the sound of rain bouncing off the roof could be heard throughout the house.  Jade and Isaac were cuddled up together in their bedroom sleeping soundly.  

Isaac began shifting in his sleep, causing Jade to wake up when he elbowed her accidentally.  She sat up, rubbed her eyes and looked to her right to see her boyfriend having a nightmare.  She quickly moved to try and shake him awake.

“Isaac, hey.  Wake up, baby.  You’re having a nightmare and I need you to wake up for me,” Jade spoke quietly to him.

Isaac shot up quickly, sitting next to Jade as he breathed heavily.  He was visibly sweating and his hands were shaking.  Jade pulled him tightly into a hug once she realised he was having a panic attack.

She whispered in his ear, “you’re okay.  It was just a dream, it wasn’t real.  I’ve got you.  It can’t hurt you.”

After a few minutes, Isaac’s breathing returned to normal and he sat up.

“Was it about your dad again?” Jade asked.

He nodded, “yeah.  The same one with the freezer.”

“Now do you want to go back to sleep or we can watch a film?  Nothing scary though otherwise, I’ll be having nightmares!” She asked.

Isaac laughed, “can we watch Horton Hears a Who?”

“Of course,” Jade responded as she reached for her laptop.

5: Erica Malia, Brett, Erica and Stiles had gone out clubbing for Malia’s birthday somewhere in the city.  The rest of the pack had chosen not to join them as they didn’t particularly enjoy clubs.  Malia and Brett were both semi-drunk on the dance floor whilst Stiles and Erica were sat in a nearby booth sampling the club’s variety of cocktails.  

Around halfway into their Pina Coladas, a guy at least twice their age slid into the booth next to Erica.  He was visibly drunk and his breath stank of whiskey.

“Hey, sweetheart.  How about you ditch this loser and I’ll show you a good time?” He slurred as he slid his arm around the blonde.

Erica moved his arm, “I’m good thanks.  We’re just here for my friend’s birthday.”

“Well, I’m sure your ‘friend’,” he air quoted, “won’t mind us leaving him.  In fact, I doubt a sissy like him could treat you like a real woman.”

At that point, Stiles had had enough, “mate if I were you I’d leave.”

“And why’s that?” he leered at the younger boy.

The emissary stood up, “because she’s my sister and if you try anything on her I’ll shove your arm so far up your ass it’ll come out your mouth.  Now get lost.”

The guy, clearly put off, left the booth to annoy somebody else.

“Thanks, Batman,” Erica smiled.

Stiles gave her a grin, “anytime Catwoman.  Now, what do you say to a sex on the beach?” He suggested with a wink.

“I’m game,” she laughed and returned the wink.

+1: Don’t screw with the pack As was expected with being the ‘protectors’ of Beacon Hills the Hale-McCall pack had to occasionally deal with a rogue supernatural creature or two.  This weekend’s activity involved handling a rogue werewolf from a pack they had contact with in Utah.  The weres had been joined by their emissaries, Nolan, Parrish and Argent who were sufficiently armed to trap the wolf.

After splitting into small groups to search the reserve, they met up in the middle to come up with a new strategy.  

“He has to be here somewhere right Chris?” Jade asked worriedly, “you used the emitters.”

Argent nodded, “it’s quite possible he’s just slipped between where we’ve been searching.”

“Okay.  We’ll split up again and have another look.  This guy has to be found soon,” Derek commanded.

Jade and Stiles paired off to walk the perimeter to ensure all the emitters were still working properly so the rogue wolf couldn’t escape.  About halfway through their checks, they found an emitter that seemed to be giving a weaker signal than the rest.

Stiles checked it was still on before pulling Jade into the shadows, “chances are this wolf knows that emitter is about to die.  I suggest we text the others and get them to surround this area then when the emitter dies, which shouldn’t be long, we can corner him.”

“Okay.  I’ll send a text to everyone,” his sister agreed and pulled her phone out.

Before Jade could text the pack, a large body jumped down in front of them.  The male stood up and towered over the twins, blue eyes glowing in the night air.  It was the rogue werewolf they’d been trying to catch.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” he said, gesturing to Jade’s phone.

Stiles spoke to the wolf, “do what?  We were just trying to make our way back to my car and go home.  We were having a picnic you see and we’ve managed to get lost.  I don’t suppose you’d be able to show us the way back do you?  We’d really appreciate it.  Our dad will flip if we get back late.”

“Don’t lie.  Your with that pack,” he growled.

The human laughed, “what pack?  I told you we came out to have a picnic and enjoy the view then we got lost and now we really need to get back before curfew.”

“Oh so you aren’t the emissary?” the wolf persisted.

Jade cut in, “I thought that was a political thing.”

Just as the wolf had had enough and was about to take a swipe at the twins, an arrow went flying into his arm.  The werewolf howled in pain as the rest of the pack came into view.  Derek and Isaac were fully ‘wolfed out’ and hurried to the scene.  They pinned the wolf back against a nearby tree so that Parrish could handcuff the wolf.

“Nice shot Nolan,” Jade said as she brushed her jeans off.

He blushed, “how did you know it was me?”

“Because Chris can’t aim that well with a bow,” Scott answered.

Isaac moved to check his girlfriend, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Credits to my idiot brother for stalling him so long,” Jade grinned as he pulled her into a hug.

Stiles rolled his eyes, “how did you guys know where we were?”

“Your sister,” Theo began, “sent a text with your location whilst you were stalling him.”

Jade smiled, “hey I have some good ideas occasionally.”

“Now what’s going on with him?” Malia asked, nodding towards where Parrish was holding the rogue.

Derek answered her, “I’ll let his alpha know we’ve got him.  We’ll take him to the loft and he can be kept there until his pack get him then it’s their problem.”

“Now I don’t know about you guys but I’m starving.  Chinese anyone?” Stiles suggested.

Peter rolled his eyes, “honestly anyone would think you were the one with a were appetite.”

-/-/-

None of these characters except Jade Stilinski belong to me and all credit goes to Teen Wolf for their creation.

[thesoundofnat]

Don’t Ask, Do Tell

Tony, Rhodey

Summary: DADT gets repealed and suddenly Tony feels like he needs to come out to Rhodey, finally.

A/N: Based on this prompt from @insane-sociopath aka my super loyal prompter. I changed things a bit (I made Tony pan/bi instead of gay because that’s what I headcanon him as), but I hope you like it nevertheless!

[Read it on AO3]

Words: 2 673

Warnings: A brief mention of a 15 year old sleeping with someone who’s a few years older, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, canonical death.

September 20, 2011

Tony thought for sure he was over this perpetual urge to do it and say it and live it, but it became clearer and clearer that he wasn’t, and his old panic returned. Washed over him and overwhelmed him until he couldn’t breathe as easily anymore. But then again, when had he ever breathed freely? For as long as he could remember, that oppressing hand had been enclosing his throat.

The news had reached him when he’d been secretly scrolling the various apps on his phone during a meeting, and the only reason he hadn’t heard about it earlier was because he’d been running late that day, and no one found any reason to tell him. Probably barely knew about it themselves. But one lonesome post on Twitter brought the trending topic to his attention, and suddenly he was gaping at his phone, every thought of being discreet gone from his mind.

“Mr Stark?”

“Sounds great, Jeffrey,” he said, standing up, phone in hand, eyes on no one. “Emergency. Gotta run.” And he did. Practically leaped through the halls until he was alone. And then he allowed himself to panic, and he hadn’t stopped panicking ever since, and he wasn’t entirely sure why, though he was sure it had something to do with that old urge returning.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He thought he was over this.

But did he have to be over this? Now with the DADT having been repealed. Now that people were almost allowed to be themselves, freely. Almost.

He didn’t know a thing.

Fuck.

He drank himself to sleep that night, and then every other night of that week.

September, 1985

The alcohol he’d stolen from a guy on his floor was burning in his veins, untangling the thoughts that barely made sense when he was sober. This wasn’t the first time he’d been drunk, but it was the first time he was this drunk. He wasn’t sure if he liked it. He felt too out of control, but at the same time it felt… good. Liberating, almost.

He knew he’d probably regret this.

The hallway was full of bodies. Some he knew, some belonged to strangers, but it didn’t matter, because he smiled at every single face, and they all drunkenly grinned back. Confused, or giddy, or without a care in the world. All depending on if they knew who this random kid who had somehow managed to get into college at 15 was. Tony didn’t care if they did.

“Aren’t you a little young for whatever’s in your cup?” a guy asked, appearing in front of him out of nowhere and forcing him to stop in his tracks. He was tall. Well built. Handsome.

Tony was suddenly aware of everything about himself. How much shorter he was. How much younger and lankier and less experienced. But he still managed a smile, and fortunately the guy smiled back.

“Maybe I am,” he slurred out, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. “Are you going to tell on me?”

“Nah, I’m not a snitch,” the guy said, leaning against the wall. All smirks and head tilts. “Besides, not drinking at college is a crime.”

Tony nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. “That I’ve heard.”

“I guess it’s not hard finding any booze here, even if it is MIT.”

“It was surprisingly easy.”

And everything else became blurry after that, but when Tony woke up it was in an unfamiliar dorm room in an unfamiliar bed with a semi familiar guy beside him, and he never told anyone about it.

That was the first time he slept with a man, though not the last.

September 28, 2011

He had to tell Rhodey. That was the first thought to cross his mind when he woke up to the usual hangover. The notion brought a fresh wave of panic, and he was sure his exhausted body and weary brain wouldn’t be able to take this much longer. And that was exactly why he should just tell him. Get it over with. Rip off the bandaid before the wound became infected.

It didn’t make it any easier.

Rhodey didn’t ask why he’d suddenly invited him over in the middle of the week. Could probably see it on him that something was up. Wrong, even. All Tony knew was that his friend entered his home wearing a mask; a mask covering up the concern that Tony’s mask that was covering up his panic had caused. Maybe they both needed to stop investing in masks.

“Do you want a drink?” Tony asked, his back already turned to him, his feet already steering him toward the liquor cabinet.

“If it’s not too much of a bother,” came Rhodey’s reply, and when Tony returned with two glasses of whiskey on the rocks he was sitting on the couch, looking more tired than he would probably admit to.

Tony handed him his glass and they drank.

“So how have you been?” he asked, desperate for some normalcy, because in his brain everything had turned upside down.

“Busy,” Rhodey said, staring at a spot on the wall across from him for a brief moment before turning toward Tony. “It’s the season, you know? You’d think it would be different once we’d graduated, but autumn always hits you in the face even if you’ve spent all summer working.”

Tony raised his glass. “Amen to that.”

“I’m just trying to take it one day at a time, I guess. What about you?”

“I think people want me to be doing the opposite of that.”

“Let me guess. You don’t.”

“I’d love to take everyday as it comes, but you know I can’t. Despite what they say I always overthink it.”

“They don’t have to know.”

“No. They’re fun to mess with, so please refrain from telling them.”

“I will try my best.”

Tony took another sip, his nerves all over the place, though Rhodey merely kept his glass in his hand. Tony wasn’t sure if he wanted him to drink or not.

He cleared his throat. “I think you’ve realized I didn’t ask you to come for no reason.”

“I sort of figured.”

“Truth is I have something I want to tell you. Something I probably should’ve told you twenty years ago.”

Rhodey’s confused eyes met his own and Tony knew there was no turning back.

August 5, 1995

The last thing Tony thought he’d experience when he woke up that morning was Rhodey almost catching him in bed with another guy. It was summer. Hot. Humid. So very L.A. And of course that meant a parade of pretty people found their way into Tony’s home and occasionally bed, though Tony was a man rarely left alone, so he kept the amount of men he slept with to a minimum.

But sometimes they were invited inside, and sometimes things went down. He couldn’t remember this particular guy’s name, and neither of them cared, but with the midday sun forcing its way into the bedroom through the small opening of the curtains, and Tony’s phone going off as if someone died (a joke of poor taste, he had to admit), it became harder and harder to ignore the world, and Tony ended up growling almost angrily when he answered the phone. “What?”

“Wake up, sleeping beauty. I’m outside, let me in.”

It was Rhodey. Of course. Hanging up without affirming or even saying goodbye, Tony turned to the guy who unfairly and unsurprisingly looked just as handsome in daylight and said, “You gotta leave.”

He’d snuck people out before. He’d never had to, but it was almost a part of the game to pretend to be coy about it, and he’d enjoyed leading girls out the back way while grinning and promising he’d call. It had been fun.

This wasn’t fun.

The guy was excruciatingly slow about getting dressed, and insisted on using the bathroom before making the twenty minute drive into town. Tony couldn’t blame him, but in his panic he could do nothing but become exasperated.

“Okay, but hurry!” he snapped, pulling on his own clothes from the previous night after deeming them decent enough for a Saturday out here. “Look, there’s this door just before the kitchen. It leads you to the backyard. Use it. Do not pass the kitchen, because it will lead you to the living room where we will be sitting. And for all that is holy, be quiet.” Maybe whisper yelling all this into the bathroom door while the guy tried to go about his business wasn’t the best option, but he was desperate.

When Tony entered the hallway Rhodey was banging on the door, and something told him he’d been doing it for a while.

“What took you so long?” Rhodey asked once he’d let him in.

“Sorry, I was sleeping when you called,” Tony said in his own defense. “I barely knew how to use my legs until a minute ago.”

“Rough night I presume.”

Tony shot him a grin he hoped was less panicked than he was feeling. “Always.”

Rhodey didn’t look amused. Ever since Tony’s parents had died almost four years earlier his friend did everything to help him, and for the past year he kept referring to pretty much anything Tony did as bad habits he used as coping mechanisms. And maybe he was right, but Tony refused to sit around on his ass with nothing but his grief. He’d done that enough already.

“You know, maybe if you tagged along sometimes you’d have some fun too while simultaneously keeping an eye on me.” Tony gave his chest a light slap. “Everyone wins.”

“You think my goal in life is to babysit you?”

“Obviously.”

“Tones-”

“Do you want anything? Something to drink? Some-”

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Didn’t you hear that?”

Tony forced his voice to remain calm. “Hear what?”

“It sounded like a door being shut or something.” Rhodey’s expression suddenly changed. “Someone’s here, aren’t they?”

Play along, Stark. Rhodey had no reason to suspect it was a guy. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He tried to make his smug grin tell a different story, and Rhodey was rolling his eyes instantly.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Hey, I’m not the one barging in midday on a Saturday. And at least I’m getting laid.”

“I get laid too, you know.”

“I need evidence, Rhodey.”

“Did you at least get a number?”

“Dunno. You sort of forced me to kick them- her out quickly.” If Rhodey noticed his near miss he didn’t comment on it.

“Will you ever treat people nicely?”

“Maybe when I’m old and gray. And hey, they don’t complain when I’ve got them-”

“Don’t wanna know, Tones.”

Tony crumpled up the note with the phone number he found in his bedroom an hour later the moment he caught sight of it.

September 28, 2011

“Tony, you-” Rhodey cut himself off. Placed his glass on the coffee table and tried again. “You don’t have to tell me anything unless you want to.”

“I do want to.”

“But you look like you’re gonna pass out.”

Tony couldn’t help the smile from finding his lips. Weak. Tired. Terrified. “I think it’ll be worse if I don’t tell you. I need you to know. I need you to finally know.”

“This sounds serious.”

“It is. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe I’ve just been overthinking it.”

“For twenty years.”

“I think it’s closer to twentysix actually.”

Rhodey ran a hand over his face. “You’ve been carrying something big around for twentysix years? Why haven’t you told me earlier?”

“It wasn’t relevant back then. Or appropriate.”

“Tony, what-”

“Please just-” Tony exhaled loudly, finally looking away from him. “Just let me say it. If I don’t say it today I never will.”

Rhodey didn’t reply, but Tony could feel his gaze on him. Could feel his undivided attention and concern and patience. Tony couldn’t help but feel as if everything would change once he told him.

Tony sat up straighter, scooting forward on the couch as if preparing himself to run. Maybe he could utter those words he’d never told a soul and then make a run for it. That would certainly be memorable - though, of course, just the simple confession would be memorable on its own.

How could it not?

“Truth is,” Tony started and regretted it immediately. He hadn’t been lying about his attraction to women all these years. It just happened to not be the only direction his desires travelled in.

He cleared his throat and restarted. “It’s about my, uh, orientation.”

“Orientation?”

“It’s a bit all over the place.”

“That… makes no sense.”

“Rhodey, I’m not straight.”

I was funny how words that had been stuck in your throat your entire life could leave your lips so easily.

October, 1986

“I know you’re young,” Rhodey said, even though the bastard was only two years older. “But you cannot tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Marriage? Kids? No, I cannot say I have, Rhodey, my friend.”

“Never? Not once?”

Tony shook his head, utterly amused and very unsure of how this conversation had started. “Do you walk around picturing your dream wife or something?”

“Sometimes,” Rhodey said, somewhat defensively. “And sometimes I see a girl who just looks so good that I almost want to propose on the spot.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Rhodey grinned. “Okay, a little bit. But seriously.” He gave Tony’s arm a light slap. “You never talk about girls with me. And don’t tell me it’s because you’re too young or busy. I’ve seen you return early in the morning in your rendition of a walk of shame. But you never want to discuss it.”

Tony’s heart was suddenly attempting to escape from his ribcage. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“But you’re not a shy guy. It’s almost as if you’re afraid to tell me or something. You always act as if nothing happened, which I don’t get.”

Okay, Tony was definitely right behind his fleeing heart. “Don’t you think we have bigger things to do than talk about that?”

“See? That’s my point exactly. It’s like you’re ashamed.”

Tony brought his knees up where he was sitting on the floor, hugging them tightly to his chest as if it would help. As if he could hide. “I’m not ashamed.”

Rhodey looked concerned now. “Did you parents ever speak to you about this? I know you don’t need help, but possibly guidelines-”

“Rhodey. Drop it.”

Rhodey did.

September 28, 2011

“I’m not straight,” he repeated, as if to test the phrase out again. “I’m not gay either, but I know I’m not only attracted to women.”

Rhodey didn’t say anything, which was almost worse than if he’d started screaming.

“I guess I just wanted you to know,” Tony continued, wishing he could get into the suit and fly away forever. Wishing he had enough guts to leave Rhodey forever.

“Hey,” came Rhodey’s reply at last. “Look at me.” He didn’t look mad when Tony did. In fact, Tony couldn’t exactly pinpoint how he looked. “It’s okay, please don’t look so scared.”

“Can’t help it,” Tony said, falling into the habit of laying every emotion out in the open when it came to his friend.

“I don’t- I don’t hate you or whatever it is you’re scared of,” Rhodey continued. “I don’t mind, you know? As long as you’re happy you can be with whomever you want to.”

So it had been that easy. Barely three words and Rhodey still accepted him with open arms. Twentysix years of anguish for nothing. Tony wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry.

“You have no idea how good it feels to hear that,” he breathed out, averting his eyes and shaking his head in disbelief. “I knew you weren’t close minded or anything, but you never know, you know?”

“Come here, you nerd.”

Tony never knew a hug could fix all the broken pieces inside him, albeit for only a moment.

[hotcocosharing]

[ KBTBB Co-Writing Fic ] Hate At First Sight ❤ At Last Glance Part 7

Fandom: Kiss By The Baddest Bidder Rated: Drama, Mystery, Thriller, Smut Characters: Eisuke, Soryu, Ryosuke Inu ( YES Inui is featured in this series!) Me as Ryoko Inui (Kyoko Nakama) / hobo4lyfe11 as Soryu Oh

Background: A fic base on revenge- where OC- Kyoko (true identity Ryoko Inui) who’d do anything to ruin Soryu Oh Summary: What could a kiss ever lead to? Steamy sex, insecurity or past that shall not be raveled? Part 1 OC smut with stranger + meeting Eisuke & Soryu Part 2 Soryu’s impression of OC & Inui’s surprise reaction Part 3 OC past + 1 on 1 with baby brother Ryosuke + Threaten by bidders Part 4 RIP Baba’s fedora + Soryu’s fluff Part 5 Angst, fluff and implied / hopeful smut? Part 6 Fluff, fluff and a lot of fluffy stuff

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Ryoko Inui (Kyoko Nakama) ‘s POV

My breathing is increasing rapidly at the touch of his dried lips against mine, his slender fingers brushing my wet hair with his thumbs stroking my heated cheeks. Melting into the unexpected yet welcoming kisses that wash over my body with wave after wave of sensation and distractions that I seek but in no position to afford.

Time has stood still- I follow his guidance and tilt my head to give him better access, twisting his tongue and deepening the kiss further while I moan unconsciously into his mouth, implying for more- both of us craving for more, more of each other. Kisses and touches further down, impatiently hoping he would push me down or lift me up at some point follow by his rapid thrusts and tightening grips but before my brain is back on track, the calling of a name I haven’t heard in decades but never forgotten has my eyes snapped open, shocking me back to reality where my enemy Soryu Oh has his lips on mine, murmuring my own (real) name like he remembers or knows me but he shouldn’t, he doesn’t. 

He and I barely spoke back then, I was too focus, too busy to bother with boys. Academic and sports took all my time till of course the unfortunate event of my family’s tragic had basically destroyed my life. 

So no, I do not enjoy kissing Soryu Oh, a man I have hated and despised half my life, vengeance and ending The Dragons are my only goals. This is …. this is just a trick, a convenient and unplanned moment that could come in handy but I need to be extra cautious if Soryu has memory of Ryoko. I shall not show the slightest similarities or any kind of qualities that I once had- for I’m no longer Ryoko Inui, not since the day Soryu’s grandfather framed my father and caused his suicide. 

Watching the confused and apologetic mobster backs away, I ball my fists and bite my bottom lip so hard that I’d taste blood, in need for it to wash away the overwhelming sensation I have regrettably just experienced. 

Once back into my temporary room, I immediately remote access to my network and upload the data to be analyst even without my monitoring, writing a quick and safe enough program in such short period for valuable information to be post online and be auctioned on underground network- proof that I have nothing to do with it under the surveillance of The Dragons, fortunately for me, my modified watch has scanned the room and come back clean that it isn’t bugged or contains any spy camera that could prove otherwise. 

When the early morning sun casts its ray onto the carpet, I soon hear a car engine running and Soryu’s already out of the house- normally, he would take me to work. I suppose the kiss has got to him as well- is he embarrassed that he has mistaken me of a girl in the past or confused about his true feelings? 

Absently tracing my lips for the last time, I head downstairs to see Ryosuke waiting, “Good morning, Miss Nakama.” His eyes fill with worries, “Is everything okay with you and boss? He rushed out the door without you this morning.”

I shrug with a half scowl half scoff, “I don’t know. He didn’t mention anything last night, perhaps he has some kind of urgent meeting?” Answering my brother casually, I hum my way to the kitchen and prepare some breakfast, “Want some?”

“Yes pleasssseeee!!" 

Over-enthusiastic as usual but it has been years since I have made breakfast for my little brother and it is the least kind of re compensation I could manage. The less than thirty minutes breakfast is possibly the warmest hour I have encountered, making the past lonesome decade all worth while for the unofficial reunion with Ryosuke.

"Oh I know!” He suddenly says, “Dr. Foster is back in the country, I think Mr. Ichinomiya has some kind of job for him.”

Ryosuke hasn’t noticed the change of my face as his words have triggered me a fair warning, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what Eisuke is requiring the assistance of Luke. If there is no way to avoid seeing the sexy blonde then I have to reassure that I look nothing like the Ryoko Inui he once remembers; if Luke Foster still miraculously recognizes me because of bone structure that I can’t fake (because they do stop growing by the age of 18) then I need another way to convince him I’m not who he thinks I am. 

Mind wondering back to the old days when Luke was still a loner, when he first arrived school and looking lost in the humongous campus. I remembered his refreshing sweet scent as I showed him around, the innocent smile that could melt hearts in second along with those crystal blue eyes that left me speechless if I stared for too long.

Once we get into the car, I convince Ryosuke to drop me back to my apartment first before we go to the hotel.

“Honestly, I don’t feel comfortable if Soryu is watching me as I pack my underwear.”

The slight crimson blush on my baby brother’s cheeks as he flushes from embarrassment nearly brings a sly grin to my lips but he’s too busy looking away and concentrating on the road. He has left me inside the flat alone as expected while I quickly ensure my secrets are safe before grabbing my gears and shoving some outfits in a stuffel bag.

Freaking Ichinomiya, I can’t stay at Soryu’s forever, I need another plan. Brushing softly against my collar bones, I breath out deeply and huff out in frustration. “Time for plan b.”

A few light taps on a loosen wood in the corner by my bookshelf, I quietly remove the piece of flooring and send a text from one of my burner phones.

“I need help, get me out of Soryu’s Oh mansion." 

I thought I could do this all on my own but no, there’s only so much I’d prepare for and being up against Eisuke Ichinomiya, Soryu Oh and Luke Foster all at once is definitely out of my hand. If help is what I need then it is what I shall seek, though the thought of my rescue’s mockery is already sending shiver to my spine- There is nothing I wouldn’t do to put an end to Soryu Oh and his dragons.

[artificialqueens]

Teal Post-its, sale Greenies and artsy portraits can build something resembling the Sun (Sashea) - Nox

A/N: Hi! I’m Nox, a loooong while ago I used to post here, and I’m back from the dead. I’m obsessed with anything Sashea right now and I stumbled with this prompt: “i hired a dog walking company and i’ve never met the person who comes to my apartment but they leave me really cute notes and they give my dog presents and i kind of love them because my dog does and ALSO one of the artists at this gallery opening is hella cute and i want them to paint me like one of their french girls, plot twist is the same person all along AU” and all the sudden I had a 6k+ words written down, so yeah. This is dedicated to all the WONDERFUL Sashea writers here, you are all awesome and this doesn’t make you any justice but is my small contribution to the fandom.

I apologize if this doesn’t make any sense, and for any grammar mistakes. Hope you enjoy n.n

A post-it note should not put her world upside down.

Humble letters shouldn’t go through her like the flight of butterflies spreading from the tip of her pointer finger to her chest, words shouldn’t make her stomach do uncomfortable flipflops, small phrases shouldn’t mirror the effects of a long walk on the beach which burnt slightly her cheeks and tinted them red. A small, teal piece of paper probably shouldn’t be important, nothing more than a simple reminder tool, an office supply anyone could buy at any supermarket. Words laid out in simple handwriting were probably not meant to go beyond a simple greeting, a good vibes wish, a polite gesture.

Yeah, a teal post-it stuck on her fridge probably wasn’t meant to be a big deal.

But it was.

Vanya, the Italian greyhound, napped in Sasha’s lap after being satisfied with the welcome home he had provided his owner with. The day had surely being a very active one for him, as he had fallen asleep with barely 5 minutes of fussing around her feet. She had gathered him off the floor and brought him to her bed, the teal note tightly clutched on her left hand. A new smile formed in her ruby lips as she scratched his back. Who knew this little dog would get her in such a roller coaster of emotions?

Her grey-blue eyes returned to the note, scanning it for the eleventh time. She had already memorized the message, words carved into her being, every syllable for some reason enticing to her.

–Hey darlin’. Vanya was super excited about his walk, such a good boy! Hope your day was as good as ours, you’ve been working like crazy this couple of days. Vanya told me ;)  Give yourself a treat today. Love,   -Shea

Shivers went and came in erratic patterns, travelling up and down her spine as every word made white noise in her mind. She shaked her head a little bit, trying to fade the haze she was submerging into. Sasha sometimes wondered if she was a bit crazy. Sure, moving across the Pacific to an unknown country just by the desire of becoming an artist and live openly as a queer woman was bold. Moving from Urbana to Brooklyn out of a hunch and the need to have brighter lights and stranger people in the city she called home was somewhat risky. Leaving her shitty paid job as a receptionist for a shittier paid job as a assistant curator was kind of nuts is you considered her rent, but hey, she was slowly accomplishing the life  she set her mind into many years ago as she boarded that Aeroflot flight, on the heavy russian winter.

However, it was moments like this, when she arrived home and kicked her shoes out of the way to make a beeline to her fridge in the raw hope of finding a new note on it, that she really questioned her judgement on sanity.

Because Sasha was obsessed with a stranger.

She placed the note inside her sketch pad on her night stand, with all the others she had received in the lapse of three months, safely storing them to re-read later. She rubbed her hands together, fingers twitching, aching to do anything right now as she was high on emotion and sensations. This obsession, or however she could call it,  wasn’t something that she could quite explain, couldn’t quite pinpoint where it came from and where it was going, but oh it was all so very strange and uncommon that it became addictive to her.

Three months back, when she first adopted the mischievous dog from an animal shelter, the last thing she imagined was she might find someone to fantasize about thanks to dog walks.

She knew she would adopt Vanya the second she laid eyes on him. His long face and skinny legs make him look like a cartoon, dark orbs wide open when they met. She had taken him home without much hassle, just to start freaking out the second she remembered the insane amount of time she spent outside her apartment in between meetings, exhibits, late curatorial processes and overall mayhem a gallery generated. After an all nighter making schedules, budgets and a few calls, it was obvious she would need to hire someone to entertain the poor little pup as she was away. She had called a walking dog company first thing next morning as a solution. They assigned her a walker, one that usually worked with little troubles like Vanya was promising to be. Her name was Shea.

They had never met in person, and they haven’t really talked  since the day Shea sent her her number over a text and asked for her to leave a spare key somewhere she could fetch it every time she went to walk Vanya. Her avatar didn’t tell Sasha much about her physical appearance, as the picture was something between a photograph and an illustration, outlandish colors flying in quirky organic figures and toon body parts (breasts, Sasha thought) covered some of the features of a woman’s face- supposedly, Shea’s.

(She did try to analyse this better, but the tiny resolution for it made it quite impossible. Maybe this should have been hint number one, as she quickly became obsessed with the picture.)

She left that morning on a rush and returned home eight hours later, feet sore and swollen in her shimmery red pumps, completely depleted and a bit discouraged as the gallery owner, a southern belle called Trinity, changed last minute the queer exhibition she and the chief curator had been collecting for months for some kitschy landscape showing. The change brought not only tons of extra work but a low blow to Sasha’s ego as she had designed herself the museography. It felt very disrespectful to throw away a subject so dear to the russian.

She closed the door behind her with a sigh as she stepped into her small studio in Brooklyn, Vanya’s paws scraping over the floor in his dash to get to her. She leaned down and petted him, making then her way to the kitchen to get him some food and water, and stirring something up for herself to calm her growling stomach.

As she was about to open her fridge to get some fresh water for Vanya’s bowl, she noticed something- a note, a post-it note adhered to the door of the fridge, next to some polaroids of her and a few friends from Illinois she kept there.

–Hey girl! Vanya loved me. We had tons of fun today. Love,

-Shea

Ps. Hope you smiled a lot today. You look cute smiling in your polaroids ;)

The immediate heat that spread across her fair features was inevitable as she read the note. Vanya ran around her ankles, occasionally propping himself on his back legs, paws against her chins trying to get her attention back on him, as Sasha seemed to have spammed out of this universe completely, eyes wide and a blushed dusting her face and neck. The russian blinked in quick succession, mechanically opening the fridge and pouring water to the dog, who drank happily. Walking towards the small island that served as the dining table, Sasha felt the warmness of her face taking over her entire body.

Sasha was usually lonesome, sometimes too outside-the-box to fit in with the crowd. Brooklyn had proven to be a tad more open-minded to receive her, but still, there were few people that saw in a petite woman with blond wild hair, thick brows, a mind full of thoughts and opinions and a love for clothes with striking patterns and odd accessories as someone they wish to have close to them. She was opinionated, clumsy and most of the times what she said was perceived as overly academic and pretentious, which was exactly the opposite of her intentions. But Sasha didn’t know any better as to how to express herself. She wanted to be heard and she was going to be, no matter what.

Sasha wasn’t good with people, so she mostly kept to herself.

And maybe that’s why coming home from another day without real human contact, having lunch alone on a room cramped with stored paintings and sculptures, a lot of disastrous meetings and having ideas and opinions crushed under someone else’s feet, that she found this little piece of paper as something that had her at the verge of tears. This unknown woman, who walked her dog once, wished she smiled a lot during the day, just because she thought her smile was cute.

Sasha thought of writing Shea a text, thanking her for the note, but thought better of it. The last thing she needed was to scare off her dog walker just because she came on too strong, thinking too much about a simple gesture of courtesy.

The notes didn’t stop though. That was the first of many, many notes, and very, very much awareness over this person she couldn’t even put a face on. This random woman, who she might’ve never meet on the outside world, made her feel treasured and special with simple silly messages written down on a post-its that kept appearing on her fridge. Was she like this with other owners? Sasha liked to think that she wasn’t, that this was their special little thing. Sometimes, when she felt bold enough (probably after a couple glasses of wine late at night too), she would leave a magenta post-it on the fridge, with a silly cartoon or doodle, some message maybe answering whatever Shea had written, sometimes a lame joke, sometimes a simple “Thank you”.

The magenta post-its were always gone and replaced with teal ones, with new messages and new cute non-sense. It wasn’t exactly conversations, as more of signals out in the world that acknowledged both their existences.

Was this borderline insane? Yes, probably. But long ago had Sasha lost the sight of what might be real and what might be her mind playing her over her loneliness. And goodness knew this was the kind of love infatuation someone like her would find irresistible: dramatic, impossible and psycho-ish. It was art at it’s best.

It would make a great book.

_

A friday night Sasha came home soaked to the bone, a mild storm catching her off guard. After closing her door, she stripped to her mismatched underwear, trying not to get water everywhere as she definitely didn’t feel like cleaning. She could hear Vanya barking, probably on the kitchen. She skipped her way down there, her clothes and shoes in one hand, looking for the reason her little one was so distressed. Usually, Vanya was well behaved, and for him to bark inside the apartment was quite odd.

She found him propped on his rear legs, eyes set on a  paper bag over the counter of the island in her kitchen. He barked stubbornly to it. Her sculptural eyebrows shut up almost to her hairline, that wasn’t there on the morning. More surprising (and what made her heart do a painful summersault) was to find a teal post-it stuck to it. Her stomach did something resembling to a cartwheel, her knees felt quite wobbly. What was this? She threw her clothes to the floor, be damned the puddle of water that she’ll have to clean later, and with shaky hands, she took the note.

–So, I thought giving Vanya a treat today was a good idea. Turns out, he really like them and won’t stop crying if I don’t give him one very couple of hours. My bad :( I’ll work on it with him, I promise! For now, these should last him a couple of weeks. Didn’t meant to spoil him, Xx, -Shea. Ps. Who am I kidding? I love to spoil his pretty face.

Sasha read over and over again the note, feeling way dizzier each time she did. The white fuzzing in her brain seemed to stop time as her eyes scanned the piece of paper as if she was a robot. Vanya’s barking eventually brought her back, for her to realize she was steadying herself gripping the counter. With her eyes open as wide as she could, she opened he bag and emptied it, two bags of Hickory Smoke flavour Greenies were inside. The dog began jumping at the sight of the bag, whimpering, running in circles in excitement. Sasha opened one bag and grabbed a treat, tossing it to the impatient dog. Vanya beamed and catched the treat, later to nudge his face against his owner chins in appreciation.

She crouched to the floor, taking the note with her as she let Vanya lick her face. The dog looked at the paper in her hand and touch it with a paw, barking once.

Yeah, you know who wrote this, don’t you?

Vanya barked again and she giggled. It seems like he really liked his walker. And Sasha couldn’t blame him. She really liked her as well.

Another whole bunch of thoughts invaded her mind, never a moment of utter happiness lasting long. Was this a normal thing walkers did with their assigned clients? Why did that woman bought the treats? Were the double X meant to be kisses? Why did she love spoiling Vanya? Why did Sasha love the fact Shea cared so much about her dog?

It was less than likely that walkers went around buying treats for the dogs they took care off, and them just giving the bags to the owner because the dog liked them a little bit too much. Also, anywhere on the contract Sasha signed obligated the woman to do so, she could just have let her know Vanya would cry all night if he didn’t get a treat before sleep and let her deal with it. It would be the normal thing to do, as Vanya wasn’t Shea’s dog. Shea seemed to be very fond of Vanya as she just thought of spoiling him herself today. That made Sasha’s heart flutter. Sasha had never given a treat to Vanya as she wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, or even which would be a healthy one to give him. But Shea did know about this things, and Shea wanted to spoil little Vanya. Anyone who treated Vanya this good had a special space on her heart, and Shea seemed to be adding points in her favor on the imaginary score Sasha kept.

Nonetheless, the blond felt uncomfortable to leave it like this, after all, she was paying Shea to walk Vanya. If the dog needed anything, it was Sasha who needed to pay for it. She took her phone, and shaky fingers looked out Shea’s contact.

She’s had the woman number all along, but had never gather enough courage to message her ever since Shea asked her to leave a spare key for her to use. Unsure of how to even begin a conversation, she just plainly greeted her with a simple hi and asked her how much she owed her for the treats.

Txt from Shea: Hey girl! Don’t be silly, those are on me ;) Vanya quite liked that flavor.

Sasha giggled again. Indeed, Vanya seemed to be really into the Hickory Smoke flavor (of course her dog would like such kind of fancy named taste). She insisted a couple more times on returning her the money, not wanting to put the other woman in the obligation to pay for the treats.  Shea refused.

Txt from Shea: I mean it, don’t worry about it, Anything to keep the smile on my special boy. But, if it makes you feel any better, those were for sale.

Txt from Shea: I really think he is the only dog that likes that flavor.

The blond grinned to the screen of her phone. Shea calling Vanya her special boy make her feel giddy. Was it creepy she ached now to have walks on the park with her dog and a woman she didn’t even know besides the fact she was a dog walker and had  pretty handwriting?

Yes.

Sasha sat laying her back against the island, shivering as she did so as she was still in her underwear. She was giggling at her phone like a highschool girl with a crush. Vanya took his opportunity to wiggle his way into her lap, resting there with his head in between his paws. He seemed to be very happy to see his mom laughing and smiling, and Sasha wondered if he’d like to have two moms to spoil his little bonny ass.

Knowing Vanya, he’d love it.

_  

Bright eyes scanned paintings and sculptures on the O’Hara Gallery opening on a Thursday night. Sasha clicked her black heels against the marble floor, red fringy dress swaying and messy blond hair bouncing on her shoulders at the compass of her strut as she walked among the pieces that were exhibit, examining them and taking notes about the different techniques and authors. The artists featured were all former students of the Arts School of Brooklyn College, and Trinity had sent her to the exhibition to get some new contacts for their own gallery. The southern woman would rather die before placing a high heeled feet on her eternal rival’s gallery, so Sasha had filled in the Yes RSVP in Trinity’s behalf.

Sighing, she wrote down the name of a landscape painter she knew her boss was just going to love -a style somewhere between Aivazovsky and Coubert- ,  and moved on without paying too much mind to the painted canvas.

Most of the pieces, even though great in the technical display, were lacking uniqueness for her taste. Thinking on the easel with yet another unfinished painting she had back in her apartment, she sighed, somewhat jealous. Most of the former students featured on the exhibit were likely to find more galleries to feature their work- a prestigious college and regurgitated yet popular thematics endorsing them. Sasha, having studied Arts and Art History under a less known art college and using heavy discourses as gender and deconstruction to sustain her heavy analytical references to make portraits that haunted her mind, struggled a bit placing her work in big galleries like this one or Trinity’s.

Strolling past yet another hyperrealist pen-drawing she didn’t even bother to look closely -really, how many Juan Francisco Casas-like drawings can one display?-, something caught her eye. At the end of a hall, on the photography section, a splash of colors and figures make her turn around. She stepped up to there, gawking at a series of photographies- no, a series of digital work, something between photography and illustration. The models were posing on the most colorful streets Brooklyn had to offer, Sasha could recognize, all dressed in fashions belonging to subcultures and overall queerness, heavily influenced all by color blocking. Every picture was intervened with figures and comical illustrations, sometimes interacting with the model, sometimes just hiding parts of them out of sight. Every picture was weirder than the previous one, the illustrations taking over the picture as the series went on. Sasha stared at each picture in admiration, the overall visual effect was an explosion of diversity among all the other artists that mirrored each other.  

This was something Trinity would never in her life show on her gallery, but the kind of art that screamed at Sasha. Her ruby tinted mouth was slightly agape, wondering eyes trying to catch every single detail each work had to offer. Little new details were found wherever she took a deep look: the portrait of the tall, asian girl dressed in Harajuku fashion had small lolitas and Hello Kitties dancing around her modelesque pose, splashes of lavender, teal and yellow surrounding her in an echo effect, eyes crossed out and augmented with a heavy black wave over each orb, to the likes of very dramatic eye liner. Next to it, the barbie-doll like blonde woman  posed next to a old teal Chevy, dressed in a pin-up swimsuit, jewels and 80’s plastic dolls doodled over her, arrows and smileys pointing at her wide hips and tits, over drawn lips covering her natural features, a cartoony big ring draping one of her fingers. A blond drag queen, with heavy leaded eyes and dressed in a feathery white gown with teal accents had smoky waves of color around her, weed leaves forming a halo around her head, a blunt sketched lit on her hand. Her cleavage was overdrawn with a dark chocolate color that contrasted with the pale skin, her legs were draw out exaggerating them to the point they were twice their length.  These last three were Sasha’s favorites, as they seem to have something to do with the author’s life, the small additions maybe too clear in reference and meaning, probably implying whoever was behind this knew very well these those models.

Her trained eyes started looking for a signature, not wanting to wait till the last picture on her right to read the whole information about the artist. A small inscription on the corner of the pictures rewarded her: Couleé.

Vaguely familiar, she thought, maybe I have read the name somewhere on the Internet.

Sasha was mesmerized, moving several times over the first seven pictures, not wanting to get to the last one just yet, as that would mean this series would be over and she’ll have to move on. She didn’t want to, she desperately thought that perhaps, she could fit between those models. She could devise herself, maybe laying on an old couch, perched on the middle of a traffic filled road, posing like one of those french models Ingres and Delacroix painted back in the day. She would probably wear a gown, see through, with lots of sparkles and adorned with patterns and beads typically Russian. Her hair would be down, teased out of it’s curls, frizzy, clad with a head wrap of extravagant-printed fabric and feathers and beads. She would probably had giant eyes with thick lashes drawn over her natural ones, maybe a bushy brow. She could picture crowns and very Mondrian-esque lines around her. She smiles, dreaming what might be.

However, as she saw people approaching she felt the pressure to hurry up not to bottle up the hall. As her eyes landed on the last picture, her knees felt weak and her jaw dropped.

It was the portrait of a black woman, looking directly at the camera lens, her hand delicately touching her right shoulder. Her face featured her pouty lips slightly ajar,  eyes a bit overdrawn on the inner corners, making them look bigger. Around her were drawings of tits and asses, melting on some kind of gooey matter, odd cartoony eyes popping up everywhere, completely deviant and strange. Orange, purple, white and teal took over the picture, both the illustrations and the colors contrasting the sensual and provocative look on the woman’s face.

This was the most stunning piece of them all, and Sasha gasped in both shock and annoyance at herself. She had already seen this one. She could not believe she hadn’t associated the style before.

What kind of art curator are you Sasha!?

This was the profile picture she has checked at least twice a day on her texts ever since the Greenies incident. She had analysed a very lower resolution version of this on her phone, over hours of meditation and clutching a teal piece of paper in her left hand like a lifeline while doing so because it was loony stalking.

Couleé. As in Shea Couleé. That’s were she knew the name from.

She saw that name the day she signed the contract with the dog walking company. Of course Shea had to be the artist behind these amazing artworks. Sasha’s evening had been way too normal up until now. How many people on New York could have a last name like Couleé?

Sasha backtracked a bit, stepping clumsily backwards as her heart stammered loudly on her ribcage. So Shea seemed to be a photographer. And she was exhibiting her work. Here. At the very same gallery Sasha was at. And it was opening night. She might be here. That would make sense. Was that last photograph a self-portrait? Maybe, as Shea used it as a profile picture, it might make sense as well. Not that anything else on this very moment made sense to Sasha, as she kept stumbling with her not so anonymous dog walker everywhere. She kept walking, until her body felt a pair of hands stopping her by the arms.

“So, you like’em?”

Sasha yelped, turning around to her right, to find the most stunning woman she had ever laid eyes on. The woman from the last picture was standing in front of her, small skittish smile on her pouty lips, eyes shining under thick dark lashes. Her hair was slick, dark and barely grazing her shoulders, parted in the middle, framing her face giving her a supermodel twist with her high cheek bones. She was wearing a rosé sweater dress with a belt, which hugged all her curbs, from her ample bosom, her tiny waist and thick legs, hitting right below the knee. She played with her hands, left middle and pointer finger clutched nervously on her right fist. However, her stance was secure, planted firmly in both of her feet, wearing gold sandals that sparkled with the light of the gallery.

“Hey Sasha. I’m Shea, your dog walker. How’s Vanya?.” Shea said, her voice a bit timid.

Sasha’s mouth felt like a cotton ball, she could barely swallow as her eyes scanned up and down Shea’s body, shamelessly. Shea towered her a few inches, even with Sasha wearing pumps higher than Shea’s sandals. She seemed to notice Sasha’s wondering eyes, although she didn’t comment anything about it. Sasha knew she should say something, as she might look really stupid at her complete loss of cool. Her mind betrayed her though, as it sped on a turmoil finally putting a face to the name she had all but worshiped for months, a hundred questions maken her overthink.

How was this happening? Was all this really possible? Why was Shea talking to her so casually? Why was Shea so damn gorgeous? Why hadn’t Sasha worn the black and white dress Trinity often told her she good look with? Was her hair even combed?  What was Shea thinking of her? Why did it matter so much?

Sasha opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, like a fish out of the water, making Shea smile widely, crooked rows of teeth showing. The taller woman turned her body to face her photographs, feeling Sasha’s anxiety. She crossed her arms under her chest, tilting her head a bit to the left.

“You know, I studied photography because I really thought I was going to be this famous fashion photographer for Vogue and Marie Claire. Adolescent Shea Couleé, filled with fierceness and big dreams, ready to fight anyone on her way.  It turns out that you need one of them fuckers with long ass careers with the magazines to either endorse your work or die to leave a slot open for new talent. And before you ask, some of them had call my work a bit to banjee for high fashion so they don’t think they can mentor me.” Shea spoke, to Sasha, to herself. The blond woman looked at her with doe eyes, her mouth finally shut close, body angled towards Shea. The taller woman’s voice was soothing and enticing to her ears. She was trying to talk to Sasha as if they knew each other, confidence exuding from her like water down a waterfall. Sasha could feel herself relaxing into the situation, a strange feeling of familiarity blooming in her chest.

After all, they technically had talked before.

Shea leaned in a bit towards her left, her voice lowering a bit in a conspiratorial tone, “And I haven’t managed to take out anyone yet, but I’m working on it. So, for now, I’m stuck photographing my friends.”

Sasha snorted, the comment so out of place and ironical that she couldn’t help it. Shea smiled again, still looking forward.

“So, you are kind of a dog walker on the day, fashion photographer at night?” Sasha asked, looking at Shea’s side, trying to follow Shea’s coolness.

“Well, I’m sending books everywhere now and then, however one does need to pay bills, and I happen to like dogs a lot, so I get a buck and pet cute dogs while at it. It’s a win-win situation really.”

Sasha nodded, understanding Shea’s point perfectly. That was the reason she worked as a curator for now, until -hopefully- she kickstarted her career as an artist.

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“Work keeping you that happy, huh?” Shea asked, taking a small step to the side, getting closer to Sasha.

“I’m here for business actually, “ Sasha said, shaking her notepad a bit, trying to purse her lips not let Shea know she saw her move towards her, “talent hunting.”

“Oh! You work on a gallery right? Taylor’s Gallery?”

Sasha glanced at Shea, raising a brow and looking how the woman flinched. Her face scrunched up a bit and she sank her head between her shoulders, probably acknowledging it might sound a bit creepy that she knew what Sasha did for a living and where she worked.

“Ok, I read that on your file after you signed with the company, I swear.”

Icy eyes twinkled, Sasha biting her inner cheek to avoid grinning like an idiot. She fancied the idea that Shea was just as nervous as she was in this utterly weird situation. The photographer’s hands, though resting in her forearms as they were crossed under her chest, shifted warily, fingers drumming against her sleeves.

The coy smile on Shea’s lips make the whole room seem a hundred times brighter, the golden sparkle from expensive gallery lights dusting her features, making her look like a magical creature who’s glow tinted her surroundings. And maybe she was a magical creature, as Sasha instantly understood she was falling in love with this woman, this mysterious woman she knew a lot of and nothing about at the same time, who seemed to be linked to her life in the most ridiculous ways possible, the universe throwing them together at every chance at hand.

Sasha was not upset about any of that.

The russian woman took a small step towards Shea, the distance between them closing.

“I do work on a gallery” Sasha smiled, looking at the portraits in front of her, “I’m surprised you actually remembered reading that.”

“I have a great memory, girl.”, Shea half chuckled, half said. She dipped her head a bit, aiming to disguise the dark blush spreading across her cheeks. “In all honesty though, your apartment is filled with paintings and canvas. You had to do something related to art. I thought you were a restaurator, with all the fresh stuff you keep around.”

Sasha smiled amused, “Actually, I’m a curator. Assistant curator. That’s why they send me off to the exhibitions neither of my bosses want to attend. The paintings back home are actually mine.”

Shea’s face beamed at that answer, her ebony eyes back on the russian woman, “You are really talented. You should be featured here.”

“I don’t really think I fit here, with all… this…” Sasha waved her hand, dismissively, “and honestly neither do you. Your work is fantastic, like seriously genius. Everything else here is so boring,  I’ve been studying these for at least half an hour now.”

“Genius? Why you think they place my portraits here, and not on the main hall? The curator here hated all of the portraits. They were not going to let me show anything, but some dude cancelled last minute.” The taller woman smirked, “And don’t go all flattery on me. I might start believing you!”

“They are good! Extremely so! I’ve been obsessed with your profile photo for quite some time. I actually felt real dumb that I didn’t matched the styles until the very last picture.” Sasha admitted, unblinkingly.

Shea seemed to be a bit taken aback. Shyly, she tilted her face a bit

“Why didn’t you text about it? I mean, if you liked it that much. We could’ve talked about it, you know?”

“I didn’t want to, uhm- be creepy?” Sasha excused herself, feeling lame.

“You wouldn’t have been creepy at all girl. I mean, I left you post-it notes every day. I couldn’t get worst than that.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Sasha could see Shea slightly nibbling her lower lip, something crossing through her eyes she couldn’t quite name.

“Can we, like, talk about that? I mean, why did you do that? Do you, uhm, leave notes to every dog owner or something?” Sasha tried to pick her words carefully, trying to sound purely curious instead of extremely clingy.

Shea bit her lips, pursing them, avoiding eye contact again.

“No, I don’t leaves noted to… anyone else.” She sighed, “You are gonna think I’m crazy.”

“Well, we are here at an opening night, talking like we were old friends when this is the first time we have actually seen each other. You didn’t even needed to tell me your name for me to know who you were, and the other way around. I think we’ve long past the line of crazy here.” Sasha shrugged, trying to sound reasonable within possibility.

After a few bits of silence, Shea spoke again.

“I- I feel like I know you, you know? Like, I read your file and saw your photo there, the one that you have to give to make sure I can recognize you in case you try to jump me or something, and- it was like I’ve already seen you? I could read there where you lived, where you worked, but something about you just… clicked with me. And then I got to your apartment, and to your dog, and I can kind of pieced together a life for you. How you keep very few pictures of you with other people on display, how everything is extremely organized except the living room that is a mess of paintings and brushes, how this little guy is always near your bed when I arrive because he misses his mom. I didn’t know if any of the stuff I imagined was real, but it felt like it was getting to know you without actually meeting you. And then I started leaving you notes because I wanted to talk to you and you started answering back some of them and I just kind of saved them because they had cute drawings and-” Shea covered her mouth with her hand, eyes completely opened. The word panic was written all across her face.

“Oh god, I’m sorry I don’t want you to think I’m a stalker or something I just-”

Sasha took both of Shea’s hands in between hers, pulling them down from their frantic parade as Shea tried to explain herself. The russian had a shit eating grin plasttered on her face, her teeth showing, that confused Shea, as she had stopped rambling at Sasha’s movement. Sasha slid slowly her thumb over Shea’s skin in small circles, liking the velvety sensation of it under her touch.

“I keep your notes too. I sometimes read them before I sleep because they are very relaxing to me, I mean the idea of someone actually talking to me because they wanted to. I thought I was going crazy, asking Vanya about you, as he seemed to like you a lot and honestly so did I, more of what I was supposed to,” she laughed, not letting go of Shea’s hands, “I was very obsessed with you- No, I AM really obsessed with you, that’s why I was panicking when you found me. Because you clicked with me too…”

Sasha’s smile was sincere, and she could see how something inside Shea melted away, her breathing going back to normal, her hands relaxing in between Sasha’s. The blonde took a step forward, the distance between them almost gone by now. Sasha could feel the heat radiating from Shea’s body. She liked the feeling of it against her skin. She wondered if, perhaps, she had never gotten Vanya, if they had met somewhere else. Maybe on an art exhibition, maybe on the train home, maybe on a bar in which they might be sitting alone and decided to keep each other company. She was almost sure that yes, they somehow would have met, as this was the kind of bond the universe works very damn hard to build.

Shea’s eyes scanned Sasha, a new full smile spreading in her face. Sasha liked the sight of it, she wanted to make Shea smile more, she had a cute smile.

“So maybe… We can get to know each other? Better? Like we know a lot of the other and nothing at the same time. Maybe we could go to the park and get some ice cream, it’s still not that chilly like for ice cream to be a terrible idea and I’m free tomorrow, and the leaves are beautiful this time of the year, all shades of orange and yellow contrasting with the sky. Vanya might have to tag along, however, as he gets cranky if I don’t spend the whole weekend with him. But it’s not like I want you to feel you are at work or something! Oh dear, it’s a terrible idea, that’s basically what you do in your work and-”

The pull on her hands stopped her mid sentence, plush lips softly touching hers, asking permission. Sasha let go Shea’s hands and placed them on her waist, pulling her flush against her body, lips parting a bit to kiss Shea deeply. The taller girl’s arms snaked around her neck, playing with her frizzy curls, as she sucked a bit on Sasha’s upper lip.

The kiss didn’t last long enough, in Sasha’s opinion, but it was a promise. Shea’s smile as she kept her hands on Sasha’s shoulders was smouldering, bright like a hundred suns, warming every cell in Sasha’s body.

“I’d love to go to the park with you and Vanya tomorrow. I can’t say no to either of you.”

Sasha beamed and she felt childish as to be this happy about a simple date. As Shea’s hand slipped through her arm into her hand, fingers intertwining as if this wasn’t the first time they have done so, Sasha knew that yes, this was the kind of love she ached: uncanny, passionate, unique and oh so very them.

[ggungabyfish]

Shuffle Challenge: Faberry!

Haven’t done this pairing in a while. Let’s go!

(click on the cut)

10. Under Pressure-Queen and David Bowie

Quinn Fabray thumbs through her old vinyl collection, sitting by herself in her apartment not too far from Princeton. She picks a record, puts in the player, and sits back to listen.

One of the memories she has of this song is sitting with Rachel on her bed, both of them sharing a pair of earbuds as this played on her bedazzled iPod…

She gets up from the sofa and goes to the kitchen. She needs a cup of tea…

With a little something else to wash away the memories.

9. Home-Michael Buble

(Inspired by dylanhart’s Should Have Asked For Directions)

Inside Rachel Berry-Fabray’s personal items is a pasteboard box. It’s got postcards from every nation in the world on it.

Inside the box are bundles of envelopes.

They’re the letters that she wrote to Quinn when they were apart…and never had the nerve to send.

They’re full of anger, or heartbreak, of sadness.

One day, she’ll show them to Quinn.

One day.

But not today.

8. Hound Dog-Elvis Presley

Needless to say, Quinn’s perfect impersonation of Elvis’s number 1 hit was…well, a big hit.

And Rachel admitted that she enjoyed it immensely.

But when the music slowed, Quinn glanced over at her girlfriend, did a perfect curled-lip smile, and began to gyrate her hips in time to the music amid hollers and whoops from the others (and a slightly exasperated groan from Mr. Schuester).

Rachel could have melted right into her seat.

She was going to kill Quinn later.

Right after she would kiss her senseless.

(Come on, we all know that would have been awesome)

7. The Continental-Artie Shaw

(20s Gangster AU, which may or may not be a full-fledged fic one day)

Quinn watches the dame that came in with Hudson sitting by herself at the bar. The big lug had been dragged off to go speak to Schue, so there was his lady.

All by her lonesome.

The blonde thinks for a minute and then gets up from her seat, smoothing down her collar and adjusting her fedora.

Be it far from her to leave a pretty lady in the lurch.

6. Foxy Lady-Jimi Hendrix

Hendrix’s strings wail through the air. Rachel leans back and listens.

This song evokes memories of a warm night in the backseat of a blue VW Bug, where she was entwined in a passionate embrace, and green eyes the color of a jungle cat’s burned a pleasurable haze into her soul.

She gets up and goes to the kitchen. She needs a drink.

5.  Don’t You Forget About Me-Simple Plan

(I was inspired by Anna Kendrick’s reaction in Pitch Perfect)

“See why I like this movie?”

“Quinn, while this movie was made in the 80s, I can’t exactly see how this pertains to our current high school situation.”

“Just watch.”

(End credits roll)

“Rachel? Baby, are you crying?”

“Y–yes! Oh, my god, that was brilliant!”

“Almost as good as Funny Girl ?”

“…well, that’s up for debate, but it’s close.”

4. Always Something There To Remind Me-Naked Eyes

(Let’s pretend for a second that Quinn did actually make it to the wedding.)

She was thinking about it.

She knew they all were; all were waiting for the cue: “ if there is anyone who objects to the union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

But who would have the guts to say it? 

They all kept glancing over at her because they all knew (except the two getting married) that Quinn had been in love with Rachel for the longest time. And the singer? Well…

Strangely enough, it was Finn who spoke. He suddenly let go of Rachel’s hands and said: “We can’t do this.” 

Everyone stared dumbfounded at him.

“Wait a minute, didn’t he ask her to marry him?” A confused Blaine asked an equally confused Kurt. His boyfriend nodded yes.

“…what? Finn, what are–what are you saying?” Rachel asked, with a tension in her voice everyone except herself had noticed.

The quarterback breathed in deeply and took her hands again in his. “Rachel, tell me the truth: do you really want to marry me?” He asked, eyes flickering over to all in attendance. For some reason, they stopped on Quinn.

“What? Y-yes, of course, I do. I want to be with you, I love you–”

“No, you don’t,” Finn answered, his voice firm and quiet.

Now everyone’s mouths were open or half-open in shock.

“That boy’s smarter than I give him credit for,” Mercedes muttered to Santana, who nodded agreement.

Finn silenced Rachel’s protestations by holding up his hand. “You’re marrying me because you don’t want to face the truth. You’re marrying me for all the wrong reasons, and the fact that…” he took a deep breath and said in a tremulous tone “…that you’re in love with someone else.” He glanced back at his former girlfriend. “And I think–no, I know that you’ll be happier with that person.” He then kissed her on the forehead, and then turned and walked out of the courtroom.

Much later, Quinn would thank Finn for what he did. Because of later that day, Rachel came by her house, and they had a good, long talk.

3. Half Of My Heart-John Mayer (I like this song, what can I say?) Quinn finally closes her laptop and leans back into the sofa, taking off her reading glasses.

“Finished,” she breathes, glad to have finally graded all the papers for her class. It’s not easy being one of the best teachers at New Mexico State University, but it pays off.

Her phone suddenly buzzes, and she looks to see that it’s a number that makes her grin broadly. She hits the green button and brings it up to her ear. “Hi, baby.“

“Hi, Quinn.” There are sounds in the background of the call; Rachel’s currently out of state with a touring company of Cinderella.

“So did you get the email, too?” Quinn asks, setting her computer aside

“I did. High-school reunion: should we go?”

“Hmm…yeah. Yeah, we should. Besides,” the professor says, a grin tilting her lips “I wouldn’t mind seeing the place where I gave you my heart so long ago.”

“Oh good grief, you’re a sappy romantic, do you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

2. Sugar-Maroon 5

(I can’t help but wonder if Rachel and Quinn’s wedding would have been one of the weddings the band hit up in the video, so here ya go!)

Quinn and Rachel were a little confused as to why all of a sudden, these people started setting up a stage in the middle of their reception.

And then they were asked by a gentleman to come over to the stage. He told them that there was a little surprise for them.

Although it really couldn’t be classified as a “little” surprise when the curtain fell down to reveal Maroon 5 playing a song. Yeah, they were all there: Adam, Jesse, Mickey, and James.

Rachel screamed in joy and awe, and Quinn whooped delightedly as Adam, grinning, motioned them over to the stage. All the guests leaped up from their seats and started dancing.

The two of them would later recall it as one of the best days of their life, bar none.

1. Summer Sunshine-The Corrs

Quinn was really good at picking songs.

This one that she was singing right now, she had picked from going through a playlist she’d found on one of Rachel’s many Pandora stations. And she figured that this would be a great one to perform.

Finn played the drums, Sam and Puck handled guitars, and some of the classical music club joined in. Quinn really enjoyed singing it for her Glee-mates.

But really, Quinn was doing it for Rachel, who was watching with slight tears in her eyes and a smile so bright it could have lit up the whole room.

She loved Rachel-Barbara Berry.

And Rachel loved her back.

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

Finito!

Hope you guys enjoyed it.