#the music reaches everybody the drowning cats

[ueslangeais]

the drowning cats ft maryel epps - the music reaches everybody (nerio's dubwork remix)

[cbraxs]

Warped [Time Warp Trio Fanfiction] - Chapter 17

The Palace of Versailles was beyond magnificent. It was a nearly ninety million (yes, million) square feet estate covered in gardens, winding walkways, and topiary, with the main attraction the palace itself, a towering presence of marble white and cream that glowed in the night brighter than the hundreds of candles lighting up the night.

The soft winter breeze carried the fragrance of flowers through the night air. The din of excitable chatter nearly drowned out the airy sounds of several flutes, harpsichords, and violas.

It would have left Anthony breathless… if he had been there on holiday.

He imagined Isadora would’ve adored the palace, trying to capture every pond, fountain, garden, and tree to recreate later in her artwork. She’d ask a dozen questions and inexplicably have a dozen more answers. She’d love it so much she’d beg to stay for just a few more minutes and, of course, Anthony would give in.

He sighed and placed his mask on his face. He couldn’t afford to get distracted with thoughts of his daughter, not when he was purposely heading into a trap. He had to be alert. Focused.

Anthony was glad he warped close to the entrance, and even happier he was hidden behind a large yew tree. The estate was positively crowded with hundreds of gilded carriages and thousands of guests dressed to the teeth made their way inside. Women dressed in big baroque dresses decked with ribbons and bows. Meanwhile the men looked almost as extravagant, wearing every color under the sun. Many of them wore masks similar to Anthony’s, allowing them to enter without invitation.

With a snap of his fingers, his outfit changed to match that of the aristocratic party guests. Green mist shimmered around his form and when it vanished he wore a green frock made of silk and velvet with gold embellishments. White breeches, black boots, and a jabot-- fluffy white neckwear-- completed the look, and with his green and gold domino mask, he blended in with the crowd.

Anthony recognized when and where he was: The Yew Ball. The celebration of the marriage between the Dauphin of France, Louis Ferdinand de France, the son of King Louis the XV, and the Infanta of Spain, Maria Teresa Rafaela. Many of the guests were looking for the king for even a simple glimpse of His Majesty, but Anthony had a different target he was hunting down.

Mad Jack had to be here. Even if this were a trap (and it absolutely was) and he did not need to be there, he’d still be here. The man couldn’t help himself. He had this deep psychological urge to gloat even at the cost of his goals. It was infuriating but could work to Anthony’s advantage.

The Warp Wizard made his way through crowded courtyards, making polite and short conversations to not stand out. His eyes scanned every masked face and accessed everybody for a familiar lanky build, but there was no sign of Jack.

Past fountains and Roman-styled statues, he came across the ballroom, a wide open space situated outside surrounded by fountains and beautifully shaped hedges. Couples waltzed along to the lovely music while others socialized on the sidelines. Anthony scanned the dance floor when he saw “her.”

Across the dance floor was a woman with an oversized white powdered wig and an unbelievably big and bright green dress. She stood out like a broken arm.

Anthony ignored his years of training to blend in and go unnoticed. He stormed across the ballroom to reach her, blind to the strange looks from the other guests. As if sensing Anthony’s presence, the bearer of the bad wig turned around, a wicked grin under his mustache and a mean gleam behind a monocle.

“I’ll be damned.” Mad Jack snapped his fan shut with a dramatic flourish. “Look who the cat dragged in. It’s Anthony the Steadfast.”

“You look ridiculous.”

Jack laughed, like anything in this situation was funny. “Is that any way to talk to a lady?”

“Don’t play games. Why did you bring me here?”

He had the nerve to tut-tut-tut at him, waggling his finger like a disappointed guidance counselor. “So impatient. Why don’t you ask me to dance first?”

Anthony could arrest him now. Send him to Em and be done. But he needed answers and playing along with this silly game might be the only way he might ever understand what this nutter was up to.

He held out his hand and grimaced when Jack placed his gloved hand in his. The two of them glided to the dance floor, falling into the practiced waltz they’ve done a dozen times back in their academy days.

“You’re looking well,” Jack said.

Anthony snorted. “Like you ever cared for my well-being.”

“You got me there. Never could stand your meatheadedness.”

He’s been called much worse. As Anthony rolled his eyes, he caught a glimpse of something resting against Jack’s collarbone. It was a necklace of pure gold, two bands coiled around each other like serpents.

The madman noticed what Anthony was looking at and smiled. “Lovely, is it not? A perfect copy of the Necklace of Harmonia. I took it off the hands of a witch who was squandering its power.”

Jack was a thief. That was nothing new, he always had sticky fingers even when they were young. At first, it was endearing, but then he started taking historical artifacts. Important items that always got him in trouble, and for what?

“What do you want, Jack?”

“What do I want? As if anyone has ever given a flying fury about what I wanted. If they had then we wouldn't be here now, would we?”

Anthony could never comprehend the sheer entitlement of this manbaby. Ever since they met, it was all about what the universe owed to him, what he deserved. Like a disease, it’s only gotten worse with age.

“I suppose,” he mused, “that’s not entirely true. Dulari cared, once. That is before you and my simpleton of a brother corrupted her with your utter incompetence and softness.”

“You do not get to talk about her that way! Not after the way you treated her.”

“She didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do.”

Anthony stopped dead midstep. His jaw was tight. He clenched Jack’s hands in a death grip with his, and he briefly imagined them around his neck.

Jack’s smirk widened. “Uh-uh-uh. Remember the Academy’s golden rule: Don’t cause a scene~”

Anthony dropped Jack’s hands and sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to fight you. That gets us nowhere. Just tell me what you want with Isadora.”

“What makes you think I want—”

“For once in your life tell me the truth! I know what you’re up to, so why don’t you just admit it.”

A bluff. He still had no clue what the maniac was up to, but he hoped this would catch him off guard.

Apparently, it worked. Jack’s playful features morphed into shock before he quickly reclaimed his demeanor. “What does it matter? With those little earrings, I can’t get near her, anyway. Sounds like you’ve already solved the problem.”

Anthony’s heart skipped. Time slowed around them. “You’ve been around her?”

“I’ve had some run-ins, nothing you need to worry your empty little head about. But I must say, you ought to be ashamed. You stifled Isadora’s potential, fed her with half-truths and lies. She’s weak, nowhere near as powerful as Dulari, but for my purposes, she’s the best bet. If she doesn’t survive the process, then it’s no fault of mine, now is it?”

A chill swept through the ball. The horror of what he said hit Anthony like a crashing wave. Rage took hold of Anthony. In a blink, his fist, glowing green with magic, slammed into Jack’s face. The man flew past the dance floor, past hedges and shrieking guests, crashing through a gilded window.

Anthony summoned his wand. With a wave, he vanished and reappeared near where his fist carried Jack off to: The Hall of Mirrors.

He yelled for the few remaining guests to flee, and thankfully they listened. Hundreds of people poured out of the hall past statues and mirrors until the two of them were left alone.

He pointed his wand at Jack and raised him above the rubble and glass. The wig disappeared in the flight. His dress was in tatters revealing his suit underneath because of course, he was wearing his suit under the dress.

Manic laughter erupted from Jack’s upturned lips, speckled with red.

The blood in Antony’s veins boiled. “She is not your damned battery!”

Jack shot his hand forward. Anthony dodged out of the way of the cane sword that whizzed by, the tip barely slicing through the sleeve of his suit and grazing his arm. He winced in pain, dropping Jack in the process. Jack landed with a crouch and shot a bolt of magic at the chandelier overhead. Crystal shards as sharp as daggers plummeted down over Anthony. He would have been skewered if he hadn’t jumped out of the way, skidding ungracefully in shoes not meant for combat.

The chandelier exploded in a plume of shredded crystals. Quartz shrapnel splintered in every direction. Anthony whipped his wand like a lasso and caught the crystals overhead, hurling them back at Jack. He dodged; hardwood and dirt erupted where he once stood. He vanished in the cloud of debris.

Fire from the candles spread throughout the room, coating the room in red and orange light. Air burned in Anthony’s lungs. The flames reached high above them, licking at the marble walls and painted ceiling.

Anthony wiped at the beads of sweat forming on his brow. Cautiously, he approached where Jack lay, a pair of magic-proof handcuffs appearing in his hands in a flash of green.

“I’m finally taking you in, Mad Jack. Under Em’s authority, you are—“

Sharp pain flared from his shoulder blade. The fez-wearing man from the diner stood behind him, pulling the blade from his back, a wicked grin under lifeless eyes.

Another stab at Anthony’s side brought him to his knees. His vision doubled and blurred. He struggled to keep balance on his knees. Poison, he thought groggily. The blade was poisoned. The warmth of blood bloomed from his wounds soaking his clothes and staining the floor.

From the dust clouds, Jack emerged. Hate radiated throughout his body. He stalked towards his fallen ex-friend brandishing his sword.

“Finally, I can be rid of at least one thorn in my side.” He raised his sword, primed to rend Anthony’s head from his body weakened. “But fear not, old friend. Isadora will be in capable hands, at last.”

He swung. But the blade never touched his neck.

A flash of green as bright as the sun slammed Jack like a freight train. A blur of purple rushed past, but Anthony didn’t have the strength to follow it. His magic fizzled in and out as he tried miserably to heal his wounds. Behind him, Jack and a familiar voice shouted back and forth. Swords clashed and magic blazed. A flash of golden light seized the room, then… nothing. Silence. He couldn’t distinguish the roar of the fire and his blood rushing through his ears.

A moment passed before the sounds of footsteps quickly approached from behind. Anthony tensed.

“Anthony! Oh, dear. You’re hurt! Can you move?”

“… Joe?”

Joe the Magnificent stood before him. His purple suit was torn and his mustache was smoldering. Joe tried to help him stand, stopping when Anthony grunted in pain and nearly collapsed.

Joe frowned and fished out his pocket watch from his breast pocket. “Please hold on, my friend!”

Somewhere between bleeding out and warping, Anthony passed out, his thoughts on his daughter, her sweet face clear in his mind as everything else faded away.

[berglietz]

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌

RULES: bold what applies - italicize sometimes -strike out never. Tag some friends to play along! Repost, don’t reblog !

SUN • egotistical • melted wax wings and fingers • stretching sunburnt skin • the most generous soul • blood in the fruit • halos • anger on fire • high vitality • thunderous laughter • is pride really a sin? • halogenic aura

MERCURY • expansion of the mind • silver-tongued • an everlasting wanderer • polyglot • high dexterity • handwritten letters • innately critical • en vogue • eyes in the trees • hidden libraries • there’s always room for improvement

VENUS • in love with strangers • iridescent waters • love potions for your mirror • selfless devotion • shattering crystal • seafoam upon sand • the golden ratio • drowning in your own passion • material value & high principles • luring • plush lips

EARTH • fresh springs • tree hugger • we can start again tomorrow • a blazing rainforest • respects survival of the fittest • nature’s adversity • lazy bones • constantly evolving • flowers sprouting from wounds • a granite altar • fossilized remains

MOON • illusory •silver shimmer off the ocean• secrets and gossip • cycles of reincarnation •a crybaby • physically ethereal • shared glances with a stranger • cat eyes • mistrusting their intuition • fear is a prison • ornate magic wands

MARS • healthy competition • attraction and repulsion • magma and rubies • a blade being forged • wrath wrath wrath • malefic • intense eye contact • cannon fodder &fireworks • blood floods • copper taste on your tongue

JUPITER • red robes and a suit of armor • beacon of stability • leader by birth • thunderbolts and lightning • guilty but can’t stop • secret rich kid • golden touch golden tears• innate optimist • failure isn’t an option • constantly reaching for more • unfinished symphonies

SATURN • traditional • overbearing energy • a sculptor of reality • this existence is a karmic one • has a heart it’s just… way down deep • law, order & justice • avoid all necessary risk • the sound of shackles clanging • sisyphus’ struggle •grappling with the reality of time • self-governing

URANUS • psychedelic funk music • overflowing cups • a rebellion with skin •looking good in photo id• oblivious but caring •middle fingers in the air • double rainbows • icy diamond exterior • holographic • afraid of their own mediocrity • pearlescent smoke

NEPTUNE • an elegy for the lost • dissolving boundaries • white horses • the burden of mystical conditions • deceptive • escapism is their reality • a polarizing entity��• artists soul • paranoia • searching for the unseen • a siren’s swan song

PLUTO • angel statues over graves • power • the cycle of necrosis • transformative • unfathomable depths • an ivory tower toppling over • screaming at the sky • violets and irises • eclipsed darkness • speaks with their shadow • sex, death, rebirth

tagged by: dash! p much everybody but i nabbed this from nic tagging: youuuuu

[magnowlia]

Embrace her name, Nathalie Hayes Deraile.

Entry #1 ; Bits Of Sunshine

Now that you’re familiar, I may go by Nath, Alie, Lilie, or any other alias that does not make you forget me. I am still a minor (if you consider 17 as underage), born as a cancer under the summer haze. I’m most comfortable being addressed with feminine terms. Please do note that my account is what I consider as a public diary, my own safe space—unlabeled.

Entry #2 ; What My Closet Looks Like

I am a big fan of Formula 1, apologize in advance if you see me stressed every Sunday (if you can’t tell already, i’m a tifosi).

I’m into books as well, currently obsessing over fantasy genre (The Poppy War, Six Crimson Crows, A Study in Drowning, anything by V.E Schwab), I’m also trying to get myself into literary fiction, a never-ending TBR on my hands yet so little time to read all of them.

As a scaredy cat, of course I enjoy watching thriller & horror movies even though my eyes are closed for the whole entire 2 hours. Some masterpieces I’ve watched are Get Out, Us, The Conjuring universe, Halloween, Incantation. To stop my heart from exploding from so many jumpscares, I love love love easy series such as Gilmore Girls, Modern Family, Everybody Hates Chris. Also other movies like The Princess Diaries, Legally Blonde, Mean Girls, Pitch Perfect, La La Land, Confession Of A Shopaholic.

Music keeps me going, I have dozens of playlist for different occasions and situations. Most of them are filled with Jeff Bernat, Frank Ocean, Billie Eilish, Sabrina Carpenter, Tyla, ENHYPEN, The Cranberries, Novo Amor, LANY, Lauv, Hozier, Mac DeMarco, John Mayer, Omar Apollo, ZAYN.

One last thing, I’m in love with mornings. Spending the little time of peace I have with pilates, journaling, jazz, yummy breakfast, and morning walks make me feel like a better person.

Entry #3 ; Help A Girl Out!

Before you enter my space, assure that you’re not a homophobic, a private qrt-er (it makes me anxious!!!), and a NSFW oriented account. I strictly do not accept any kind of hate on my page as well, let’s be kind…. Other than that, I’m welcome to everyone, greet me and I’ll be your bff in two seconds! ^_^ If you have anything to say, reach me on my DM or retrospring

[ngoumapulcherie]

the drowning cats ft maryel epps - the music reaches everybody (nerio's dubwork remix)

[tootiredmotel]

Electricity

Inspired by @ledzeppelinmixtape 's emoji prompt: ⛈

Read on ao3 or below / 2.3k words

It's 11pm and storming biblically when Dean and Cas's apartment goes dark.

"Great," Dean mutters under his breath. "Fan-freaking-tastic."

From somewhere else in the apartment, his roommate asks "did the power go out?"

"What do you think, sunshine?" Dean replies sarcastically.

He has a half-written essay in front of him, but he knows his old-ass computer won't last long unplugged, so he saves the document before shutting it off. He leans back in his chair, stretching for the first time in an hour and running a hand down his face. He actually needed a break from the screen, he realizes, feeling his eyes relax as he rubs them.

The steady rain and strong winds outside make an overwhelming white noise track, interrupted only by thunder that goes from faint and distant to deafening in volume. If Dean wasn't stressed out of his mind and completely exhausted right now, he might actually find this kind of nice.

"It's raining cats and mice out there," he hears Cas say, his voice now in the room.

Dean smiles, still rubbing his eyes with the backs of both his hands. "Cats and dogs, Cas."

"Right. Cats and dogs."

It’s really no use correcting him; the entire animal kingdom could be falling from the sky right now and there wouldn't be much of a difference. The winds are definitely knocking things over, and the streets will certainly be flooded come morning. Dean wonders for how long the university will cancel classes after this (if at all, the heartless bloodsuckers).

A particularly loud clap of thunder startles Dean. He drops his hands from his face and opens his eyes, expecting to see pitch black nothingness, but the room is faintly lit by the flashlight Cas is holding as he rummages through their kitchen drawers. He approaches a minute later and sets a candle down on the small table.

"Smart."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas says, sitting down opposite him. Dean smiles again, this time shaking his head.

If anyone ever asked him to mention one thing he likes about Cas, just one, he'd probably say how genuine Cas is, how he takes everything to heart and speaks from it as well. Dean said just one word, smart, a simple comment on the fact that it occurred to Cas to light a candle instead of wasting the battery of their one flashlight, and Cas genuinely thanked him for the compliment. He's just ridiculously cute in his earnestness.

Cas is trying to light the candle now, but their lighter is tricky. Despite living together in that apartment for a year and a half now Cas has never really gotten the hang of it.

"Here, let me."

Dean means to take the lighter from Cas and do it himself, he really does. That is 100% his intention as he reaches across the table. Except he sees an opportunity, and Dean Michael Winchester is nothing if not smooth.

He wraps his hand around Cas's, gently guiding his fingers until they’re placed just right, and the lighter clicks on with ease. Cas meets his eyes, smiling, and Dean can feel the slightest brush of Cas’s thumb against his hand. It’s a small gesture, but clearly deliberate, and it sends Dean’s heart into overdrive. Cas leans away, puts the lighter aside, and starts leafing through a book he brought. Dean’s heart is still racing as he watches him.

Scratch that first thing. If anyone ever asked him what’s one thing he likes about Cas? His hands. God. Neat nails, slightly calloused palms, and overall larger hands than you’d expect. Cas is an environmental science major and he wants to get a Ph.D. in botany, so of course, there’s a small garden on their fire escape. He tends to those plants every day with more gentleness and care than Dean has ever seen, and Dean loves to watch him, even though he has no idea what Cas is doing with them half the time. He just knows that not a single one of their plants have died under Cas’s care. He names them too.

His attentiveness. That’s another thing Dean might say if anyone ever asked. Cas left to visit his sister Anna last winter break. He left Dean in charge of the plants, three of which died inside the week. (For Dean’s birthday a couple of months later, Cas got him a book. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean keeps it on his nightstand.) Dean went out and bought new ones, but he knew Cas would notice the difference, and he did. He wasn’t mad at Dean though, and he appreciated the effort, and as Dean apologized profusely over and over again, Cas looked at him in the eyes oh-so-softly and told him he was forgiven.

How could Dean possibly forget? If anyone ever asked, he’d say that Cas’s eyes are one of his favorite things about him. One of his favorite things, period. Dean is absolutely mesmerized whenever Cas looks him in the eye, and the guy loves making eye contact, which means that Dean lives in a perpetual smitten daze. He has never seen that shade of blue anywhere else on this earth. Or maybe he just hasn’t been looking, content to get his fill of that blue by staring into Cas’s eyes as much as he gets to on a daily basis.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean blinks himself back to reality. “Hm?”

“You seem… spaced.”

Dean is staring. He’s been staring this whole time. Shit. Crap.

“Yeah, um. Just tired.”

Mr. Smooth, everybody.

“Maybe you should go get some rest. I doubt the power will be back anytime soon.”

Castiel Milton, always looking out for you. It makes Dean melt.

“Yeah, maybe.” I wanna stay here with you, though, he thinks. Instead, because he’s pathetic, he asks “what’re you reading?”

Cas shows him the cover. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean breaks out in laughter.

“So you’re going into my room and stealing my shit now?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your Vonneguts.” Cas puts the book aside, an easy smile on his face. “Just wanted something light to pass the time.”

“You done with your homework?”

A soft yawn escapes Cas. “For now.”

“Dude, why not just go to sleep? You look exhausted.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Dean tries to deadpan him. He fails, because around Cas, it’s near impossible for him to not smile.

“Besides, I might be done but you weren’t.”

“And you wanted to keep me company.”

Cas shrugs as if to say I guess, but he does it with a knowing smile. The smile doesn’t falter as he meets Dean’s eyes, and he doesn’t look away when silence settles between them, the only sound being the stormy white noise.

Dean is sure he could drown in that blue and die happy.

Before that train of thought gets away from him again, Dean tears his gaze away and stretches. “We should really go to bed though, I’m not getting any more done tonight,” he says as he stands.

“Of course,” Cas says, but he grabs the book again.

“You not going?”

“I want to finish this chapter.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Dean smile. Again.

“Well, g’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

Dean thinks he detects a bit of shakiness in Cas’s voice but decides that he’s probably just tired.

He gets to his room and changes into something comfortable, the first t-shirt and sweatpants he finds as he rummages in the dark. He goes to set his phone on his nightstand and crawl into bed, but in place of the book he keeps there and puts his phone on top of– the book Cas has at the moment– he finds something else.

It’s paper. It’s folded into the form of a book, like one of those youtube craft tutorials with bad music, and it's no bigger than his own palm. The cover is handwritten, and Dean immediately recognizes it as Cas's. He smiles, expecting a prank or joke of some sort, Cas knows how stressed Dean can get with the start of the semester. However, his smile falters as he reads the cover:

How to tell your best friend you’re in love with him.

With a shaky hand, Dean opens the small book. The first page is the only one with any more writing on it, and it reads:

You leave him a note and hope it’s enough.

Dean is storming out of his bedroom (no pun intended) before he knows it. He barely even feels his feet moving, too focused on the pounding in his ears and the dryness in his mouth. He doesn’t go into the living room, not yet; his feet stop at the end of the short hallway and he braces himself against the wall. The room is spinning and he can barely breathe.

“Cas?” He chokes out.

Cas puts the book back down on the table in front of him and interlocks his fingers in front of him. He doesn’t look at Dean– Cas, who makes too much eye contact – and takes a deep breath before saying “yes?”

He’s nervous.

Dean takes a step forward, still keeping one hand on the wall just in case, and holds up the note. “What is this?” he asks, because his brain is just not there with him yet.

Cas stands, still not facing Dean. “Dean, do you know what day it is?”

He’s asking this now???

“September firs–”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Cas isn’t today the–”

“The night we met. Two years ago.”

Dean feels his brain catching up now as the memory starts coming back to him. Cas helps, starting to recount that night.

“Two years ago tonight, I was leaving my night course at the university, and it was raining. Not as bad as this,” –Cas looks out the window and lightning strikes, as if on cue– “but pretty badly, and I was an inexperienced freshman without an umbrella.”

Dean remembers. He was walking Charlie to her dorm when it started drizzling, and it was pouring by the time he made it back to his car. Dean had a night shift at the gas station and was about to head there.

“Two years ago tonight,” Cas continues, “you invited me into your car to shelter me from the rain.”

Dean saw this guy running in the direction of the men’s dorms, which were on the other side of campus. He felt bad, and he had a car, so he opened the passenger door and let him in.

Turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he’d ever laid eyes on. He was a bit awkward, but he had no filter, which made him weirdly funny. He asked about the music playing in the car and listened intently to Dean's rambling. He laughed at his jokes too.

At the end of the five-minute drive, he said his name was Castiel, and Dean asked for his number and saved it as Cas with a thunderstorm emoji. Because even if he didn’t know it yet, Dean was already whipped.

“Two years ago,” Cas says, finally looking up at Dean. His eyes are wide and vulnerable and he looks terrified and Dean can barely stand it. “Two years ago tonight, I started to fall in love with you.”

Dean can’t breathe. His ears are hot and he can’t stop fidgeting with the note in his hand and he can’t breathe.

But his feet start moving again, out of their own volition. They move toward Cas.

“If you don’t feel–” Cas starts, but Dean swallows his words.

Again, Dean’s brain isn’t all there yet, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s already in it. He’s grabbing Cas’s face, digging his fingertips into the back of his hair, and the note is forgotten on the table, and thunder rumbles not that far away. He’s darting out his tongue, begging to explore Cas’s mouth as he’s wanted to do since forever, and Cas lets him. He tastes like toothpaste and coffee and honey and Dean never wants to taste anyone else ever again.

Cas is wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and pressing his entire body against him. It’s making Dean weak in the knees but it’s okay because Cas is almost holding him upright at this point. There’s another clap of thunder, much closer this time, and the lightning probably illuminated the apartment, but it wasn’t enough to make them part. They’re moving and grasping and exploring frantically, and Dean is afraid Cas is going to disappear, or that he’s going to wake up and this will all have been another dream. But no, it’s real, and they’re playing catchup on two years worth of desire and longing and love.

They eventually pull away, breathless and giddy. The only sounds are the rain and the wind. Dean opens his eyes first, needing to see Cas and make sure this is completely, definitely, unequivocally real. Cas is smiling and taking deep breaths, and a weight seems to be lifted off his shoulders. He opens his eyes a second later, and even in the darkness, even with just the faint candlelight, the blue in them seems to shine. And even though there's no power, it feels as if there's electricity crackling in the air around them. It might be the storm.

No. It's the moment. This moment with Cas is what feels electric.

“Come to bed?” Dean asks, feeling brave and going out on a limb. The only way Cas responds is by interlocking his hand into Dean’s and kissing him again.

And after tonight, for the rest of his life, if anyone ever asks him “what’s one thing you love about Cas?” Dean won’t be able to narrow down an answer.

He’ll just say: “Everything.”

[youare-mysonshine]

who knew || oscar diaz

Summary: Prophets do a drive by shooting at Oscar’s house and reader is caught in the crossfire.

Requested: Yes!

Pairing: Oscar Diaz x Martinez!Reader

Warnings: Gun violence, blood, character death, graphic depictions of death and blood. Angst, angst, angst lmaoooo

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: so, this was sitting in my request list and I just couldn’t not write it. I’m sorry for the hurt I’m going to cause don’t hate me lmao. Also, there is mentions of blood and death. Heavy mentions of that. So if this is something that triggers you, please don’t read or proceed with caution. I hate myself lol

——-

“Here, papas.”

You walked over to your boyfriend, handing him a cold can of beer before assuming your position on his lap.

It was a nice Saturday evening and you were spending it with your boyfriend at his house - the house was full of nothing but Santos, their girlfriends or people who just hung around the gang. Some music was playing, some people were dancing, some were just chilling and talking. It wasn’t a party, but it definitely felt like it.

“Gracias, mamita.” Oscar took the can of beer from you and opened it, taking a considerable drink before resting his hand on your thigh, keeping you close to him.

You and Oscar had been dating for a good while - you had grown up knowing each other because of your siblings - your younger brother, Ruby, was his younger brother, Cesar’s best friend. And He also knew your other younger brother, Mario. The two of you had begun to date a little before he went to prison and stayed together during and after. You’d been there for him through a lot, you stuck by his side through a lot and Oscar knew that he’d found the true definition of ride or die.

You never turned your back on him, never. Not even when your family tried to get you to leave him - he understood it. When he got locked up, when he was sent to prison, your parents wanted you to have nothing to do with him. He wasn’t mad because he knew that he couldn’t give you the life you wanted or deserved. But you defied your family, you stuck by his side and you didn’t regret it. His family was still skeptical, iffy about the relationship, but they had learned to accept him.

Ruby wasn’t as scared of him as he used to be because he saw you two together - he saw a different side of Oscar when he was with you. And he and Cesar were low-key happy at the possibility of becoming actual family in the event that you two marry, which you were definitely going to because neither of you could see you spending the rest of your lives without one another. And Mario, well Mario had always been a good friend to him and he was just happy that his sister was happy.

Cesar loved you from the get go - he had known you because of Ruby, but then you started coming around more anymore when you and Oscar started going around. Even when he was in prison, you took care of Cesar. You made sure he was clothed, fed, made sure he got to school, made sure he had money. You took care of him like he was your own and that made him feel safe with you. You and Oscar were truly the only parental figures he’d ever known.

As the night progressed, everything was going great, it was fun. You were laughing, smiling, having a great time. Oscar was deep in conversation with his homies, though his hand would squeeze your thigh on occasion though, and it’d have you squirming or gently nudging him because of how ticklish you were. It never failed to bring a smile to your lips.

“Shut the fuck up, liar. I don’t snore.” One of the Santos’ girlfriends said, pushing her boyfriend, glaring at him, though you could make out a smile pulling at her lips. You and Oscar both laughed, your head falling on his shoulder.

“Aye, you know who else snores? This one right here.” Oscar pointed at you and you looked at him with your mouth wide open, though your were still lightly laughing. Your eyes were sparkling, and Oscar loved it. H’d never get tired of your eyes, or your smile. Your laugh.

“What? Callate, mentiroso! I do not snore. It’s your ass that snores in my ear all night.” You said, nudging him with your elbow. Oscar’s smirk softened into a smile and he nodded. The way he looked at you never failed to make your heart flutter. It never failed to give you butterflies. It was like the very first time each and every time.

“I know, I’m just fuckin’ with you mamas.” He reached a hand up, cupping your cheek. He pulled your face down to his and pressed your lips together in a soft kiss. Oscar would also never tire of your lips. How soft they were. How they moved against his so perfectly, so in sync. How they fit perfectly with his own like they were his missing puzzle piece.

The Santos that were near the loved up couple began hollering, cat calling and whistling.

“Aye, get it Spooky!”

“We gettin’ a baby Spooky sometime soon or what?”

“Look at this foo, all in love and shit!”

You both pulled away, a blush starting to creep up your neck, your cheeks and all the way to your ears.

“Yeah. In love. And what?” Oscar countered at his homies, a little smirk on his face. He never shy about how he felt about you. He let it be known that he loved you. That he was yours and that you were his. How could he not show you off? He wanted everybody to know he had the best girl. He didn’t think of it as him being weak - he was more of a man for being able to show that side of him, for not hiding it to seem cool in front of his homies. And that was what you loved about him. He never switched up on you.

Shaking your head, a smile on your slightly moist lips, you moved off his lap. “I’m gonna get some chips from inside.” You said. “You want anything?” You asked your Santo, then turned to look at the group of Santos you were sitting with, asking them the same. A few of them asked for chips as well, so with that, you turned on your heel and began to walk over to the porch steps that led up to the front door.

It all happened so fast.

You all heard the sound of tires screeching as a car rounded the corner. You turned around and saw a green car rolling up. No one had any time to react, no one even knew what the fuck was happening until it was too late.

“Prophets bitch! Fuck Los Santos!”

The sound of bullets hit your ears. It sounded like fireworks but they just kept coming and coming, never stopping for a second. People started screaming, running for cover, bodies hit the floor.

As soon as Oscar heard the bullets begin spraying his house, as soon as he saw that neon green car, his immediate thought wasn’t to get down for cover. It was to find you. To find you and make sure you were safe. Some of the homies he was talking too had hit the ground, blood beginning to pool on the ground below them. Some of them were shielding their girlfriends or each other for the bullets. Some of them had pulled out their own weapons and began firing back at the Prophets.

“Y/N!” He yelled out, voice deep and panicking, in the midst of the chaos. “Y/N..!”

And then he saw you. Laying on the concrete ground with a deep scarlet beginning to pool around you.

You didn’t know how to react. You didn’t even have time to react before your felt this burning pain in your upper shoulder and your chest area. And then you were falling to the ground fast first. You could feel a warm, sticky liquid beginning to wet your skin and you barely registered it as your blood. You were bleeding. You were shot.

“No. No no no.. Y/N..” Oscar rushed over to you, aware that the sound of gun fire had ceased and all that was left in it’s wake was frantic screaming and crying. All that was left in it’s wake was absolute chaos and destruction. And you’d been caught in the middle of it.

Oscar turned your body around to you were on your back and it was like his entire soul just left his body. He could feel the color draining from his face, the panicking really beginning to set in when he saw the gunshot wounds on your body. Your body, your clothes were stained red, only growing wetter by the second. Your eyes were open and you were struggling to breath.

“Y/N, baby. You keep your eyes on me. You keep your eyes on me, okay? Don’t stop looking at me.” Oscar instructed you, not bothering to conceal the panic in his voice. His shaky hands pressed down on your wounds, trying to stop the bleeding but it just wouldn’t stop. It just kept gushing out and it was staining his hands.

“S-Shit! Shit! No no, baby.. Call a fucking ambulance!” He yelled out to whoever was listening.

It hurt. It hurt and you felt like you couldn’t breath. Like you were underwater and you were drowning. The pain had started off dull. This dull burn that began to grow hotter and hotter. Your hazy eyes were locked on your panicking boyfriend as he did everything in his power to keep you from bleeding out but you could feel yourself starting to slip away. You could feel how weak you were growing.. your eyes began to close.

“No! Y/N keep your eyes on me! Damnit, keep your fucking eyes on me!” Oscar sounded like a lost, scared little boy. Not the tough, scary cholo that everyone was afraid of. No, in the moment; he was the one that was afraid. He was watching the love of his life slip away and there was nothing he could do.


That sparkle in your eyes that he loved so much was starting to fade away into nothing and it killed him. It fucking killed him.

“Y/N, don’t close your eyes, baby. Please. No.. No! Y/N”

The last thing that you saw before your eyes finally closed was Oscar’s broken face, the tears that fell from his eyes, as he pleaded with you to keep your eyes open.

———

Oscar was numb. Absolutely numb.

His hands were stained in your blood. His t-shirt was stained in your blood. And the look on your face as you laid there, choking on your own blood, desperately trying to keep your eyes open, was engraved in his head. There was nothing he could do to get that memory out of his head. Nothing.

He heard the sound of rushed footsteps and ‘Where’s my baby? Where is she?’ And as he lifted his head, he saw your family rushing down the hallway. Geny and Ruben had looks of worry on their faces, your mom had tears flowing down her cheeks and your dad looked just as frightened but he was clearly trying to be strong for your mom. Your Abuelita was in tow, holding onto the twins’ hands. And Ruby, Ruby followed behind his parents with this scared, terrified face.

Oscar stood up when he saw your family rushing forward and they all stopped short when they saw him, when they saw the state that he was in - covered in your blood. Scary amounts of it.

“Oscar.. what happened to my daughter.. what happened to her?!” Geny demanded, by her sobs broke through and his own demeanor cracked. Geny turned to her husband and buried her face in his chest, holding onto his shirt as she cried and cried for her young daughter. Abuelita stood back with the twins - they were confused, unaware of what was going on, why their mommy was crying, why everyone was scared, so she tried her best to make them feel at ease, to comfort them

Oscar, with tears blurring his vision once again, looked at Ruby as he sauntered forward. The young teen looked at all the blood that should’ve been in his sister’s body, not on her boyfriends clothes, and let out a shaky breath of air. “She’s gonna be fine, right? She’s gonna live?” Ruby was desperately looking for that comfort. He wanted to so badly believe that his sister was gonna be fine. That she was gonna be okay. Oscar wanted that too. No. No, he needed that. The heartbroken Santo gave a nod.

“Yeah. Your sister is gonna be just fine, alright?”

———

The entire family and Oscar stood when the doctor came walking forward and Oscar felt this dread in the pit of his stomach at the look on his face. Cesar had shown up at the hospital after Oscar had called him and told him what happened. The kids were all there, supporting Ruby. Your dad had called Mario and told him what had happened and Mario promised he’d be there as soon as humanly possible.

“Dr? How is she? How is my daughter?” Geny asked. The doctor let out a saddened sigh and it was like Oscar couldn’t breathe. Like he was dying too.

“I’m sorry.. we tried to do everything in our power to save her but the bullets did too much damage and she lost a significant amount of blood. I’m sorry.” The cry Geny let out was heartbreaking, utterly gut wrenching. She fell to the ground and Ruben went right down with her, holding his wife all the while tears streamed down his face.

Ruby started crying, shaking his head saying she couldn’t possibly be dead. Monse, Jamal and Jasmine were right there - hugging him. Comforting him.

But Oscar. Oscar lost it. His body hit the wall and he slid down to the floor, his legs having gone completely jelly. He could feel his heart physically breaking into a million pieces and it was the absolute worst feeling. Cesar was right there beside his brother.

“Oscar..” The younger Diaz murmured. Oscar shook his head, refusing to believe it.

“No.. No, she can’t be dead. She can’t.. she can’t be.. dead..” He started crying. Actually crying. The Santo buried his face into his hands and cried, his entire body shaking with this pain he never knew before.

He’d dealt with the loss of a mother who preferred drugs over her own children. The loss of a father who walked out on his kids. He’d dealt with losing friends before. But this.. this was something that just killed him. Crushed him completely. The pain was indescribable. The image of your face in your final moments.

You had just been smiling, laughing, having fun. He’d just kissed you! He had just kissed you and now.. you were dead. You were dead and nothing was gonna bring you back. That was something that he had to live with and deal with for the rest of his life.

Cesar wrapped his arms around his heartbroken brother and hugged him. Hugged him close and didn’t let go. Oscar didn’t push him away. He leaned on his baby brother for support, hanging onto him as if his life depended it.

Memories of your times together over the years replayed. Your first kiss, your first time having sex, the first time you both said I love you. Waking up to your face in the mornings when you’d stay over. Memories of you two just laying in bed together and doing nothing, talking about the future. Your future.

Oscar was never gonna have that again. With anyone.

You were gone.

[saltedpeppermintmocha]

into the night (bakugou x reader) - Chapter 2/?

Summary:

You were born to die.

It is a fact you’ve known since your quirk first manifested, and one you have been denying for just as long. You refuse your supposed fate and try to live the best life you can while remaining undetected.

But maybe fate has another plan. A chance encounter on a mountainside changes your life forever.

Chapter One

MATURE : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+

The village has not changed much since you last visited. It almost makes you feel as if you never left. For many, this would be a comfortable thought; however, you left to get away from this sort of monotony. The city is always moving, always changing and updating, for better or for worse. You hadn’t even realized that your favourite dessert place had moved until one week you went and walked into a new bar. While you mourned the desert place, the bar had been a welcome addition to the area.

You noticed early in life that most people didn’t leave the village. Maybe it was the comfort of monotony, maybe it was the money it took to actually leave. Nobody in the village was rich, and it took you saving every yen you could for too many years to be able to leave. Most of the kids you went to school with remain here, working in local shops or restaurants. So when you walk through the village with Dad, everybody wants to come to say hello.

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, you would spend more time talking to each person, but your nerves about the mountain pull you quickly from person to person until finally the small store comes into view.  An old man sits on a chair outside, seemingly staring into nothing. He looks over at your arrival, startling a bit with a large smile forcing its way onto its face. He calls out your name.

He looks the same as you remember him, but watching him struggle to pull himself from the chair is new. You frown slightly, rushing towards him to help him up. Your help immediately turns into a hug. “Welcome home my dear.”

“Thank you, Tanaka.” You reply happily, hugging him back. “How have you been?”

“Oh, just great dear.” He pulled back from the hug. “And you? Have you found yourself a husband yet?”

You hold back a frustrated sound. This shit again?! Dad coughs behind you, struggling to hide his laughter. “Not yet.” You reply, slightly more patient with Tanaka than your father. “I have to find the right one, you know?”

“Well, you better hurry up now. You are not getting any younger!” He says, as if his words are not a punch to the gut. “When you find him, make sure to come visit. I know your mother would-”

“Tanaka.” Surprisingly, it’s your father that interrupts. “I believe she has something to ask you?” He gestures at you.

“Ah, yes!” You reply quickly, thankful for the quick change in subject. “Do you have a guest at Fuccanchi?”

The old man blinks a few times, seemingly confused about the change in topic. But he gets it after a moment. “Oh, yes I do, dear.” He stops there. You wait a moment, but no more information comes. Alright then.

“Is there any chance it is a guy around my age?”

“I would think so.” His head tilts to the side, considering. Then his eyes open wide. “Oh, I see. I don’t know if he is single, but he didn’t come with a wife. I will ask him next time I see him.” Single? Uh-

“Ack, no, nope!” You immediately shut that down, hands flailing uselessly in front of you. “That is not what I meant. I saw him on the mountain and I was just concerned for his safety.” You pause. “Just to make sure, is this guy a blond? Um...he looked strong? But he was super quiet.”

“Yes, that sounds like him.” Tanaka taps at his face. “Such a strange young man. Maybe it is for the best that you don’t get married. A husband like that is no good.”

“Tanaka!” You groan, running your hand down your face. “I just want to make sure he is okay. Have you seen him around today?"

He takes another too-long pause, but you wait it out. Then he replies. “I saw him this morning while I was putting out food for the cats.” He continues. “Chico has been so naughty recently, I don’t know what to do about her. And Haru got into the brambles, it took me forever to get him clean…”

You let Tanaka's voice fade to the background as he spoke about the cats. Your mind was on more important things. This morning, he saw the guy this morning. You let out a long breath of relief, that nagging feeling in your gut finally releasing. If he was here this morning, he is fine. The mountain didn’t swallow him up. You didn’t have to go to the police. You can forget all about him now.

Finally.

After letting go of the asshole on the mountain, the rest of your day is calm and peaceful. Dad stays to chat with Tanaka, so you filter through the various small shops, buying items you don’t really need just to help out the owners. To stimulate the local economy.

You meet up with a few childhood friends for dinner at a family restaurant. It is a bit awkward at first, as are all conversations where you haven't spoken in years, but it soon gets moving. They ask about the city and your life, often replying ‘ I could never do that' or ‘I could never live there’ to your stories. You don’t answer that you feel the same about their lives.

It is only when you are done eating, and you are partially zoning out while one of them tells an extremely long story about a new television show they are watching, that you hear something from the mountain. You perk up at the odd sound, but nothing looks out of place or weird.

“Is there something happening on the mountain?” You ask, rudely cutting off whoever was speaking at the time. They go quiet, and you listen closely. You hear it again, faint from distance: a booming sound. It sounds like a demolition, maybe. Are they taking down one of the huts on the mountain? But that wouldn’t need a full demolition.

“What are you talking about?” Saneka asks.  

“The noises.” You reply, frowning when you meet three other confused faces. “Do you guys not hear them?” They shake their heads.

“I think I heard something last night.”  Nakamura puts forward. “I was up late reading. It is the best time to read, you know, with the quiet. But there was suddenly this loud banging sound-”

“You sure that wasn’t coming from your mom's room?” Ito smirked.

“Hey! Take that back!” Nakamura frowned, slamming his hands down on the table. The conversation quickly deteriorates into jokes, the topic dropped entirely. You try to push it from your mind, deciding to have an extra look tomorrow when you head out.

The dinner ends relatively quickly after that, the three of them headed in one direction and you in the other. You exchange phone numbers and promise to keep in touch. A promise that none of you are planning on keeping. You head home, casually listening for more sounds in the mountain that don’t come. The lights are on when you make it back.

“I’m home!” You call out, toeing off your shoes.

“Welcome back,” Dad calls out. You find him in the living room, watching some show on the television. He looks up at you with a smile. “How was dinner?”

You shrug. “Fine.” Plopping down beside him on the couch, you change the subject. “What are you watching?” He gives you a look, knows when you are deflecting, but still goes off on an explanation you only partially listen to.

You don’t want to tell him how that dinner just reinforced your decision to leave the village. You don’t want to tell him that every word from your old friend's mouth was so boring and slow that you felt like you were going insane. You cant tell him how your heart screams for the hustle and bustle of your city and your job.

Dad falls asleep early nowadays. You place a blanket over him, turn off the television and lights, and head upstairs. It’s an early night for you too. Or, it is supposed to be. You need to be up early to tackle the mountain.

But your mind keeps returning to your childhood friends. How did you all grow up to be so different? What happened? Saneka, the beauty queen of your class, who swore she would be an American actress, decided to marry Nakamura, the class weirdo who once ate glue. Is Ito, the man who wanted nothing more than to prove his worth by moving to the city, really happy working at a store in this village? They all had such big dreams. Did they give them up to live a quiet, peaceful life? Are they really happy like this?

“Move to Makkari?”

Your father's quiet plea rattles around in your brain. Could you be happy here, like them? Could you give up everything for a quiet, peaceful life? A safe life? What would you even do? Get a job with Tanaka and Ito at the storei? Find love amongst the minimal prospects and live a slow life? Your heart hurts at the thought. You look out your window from your bed. It isn’t a good angle to see the mountain, but the sight still does not disappoint. Stars dot the cloudless sky, constellations you once knew dance above your head. It is beautiful here. Beauty that cannot exist in a city.

You let out a frustrated groan and turn over to bury your face in your pillow. This train of thought will keep you awake for hours, you need to stop. Reaching over to the nightstand, you grab and your phone and find your music app. It takes a moment, but you find some nice background music to hopefully drown out your thoughts and put your earphones in. The sounds are able to relax you and give you something else to focus on rather than your own problems.

Luckily, you fall asleep not too long after.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

You scream awake, sitting straight up with hands reaching up to cover your ears. Holy fuck that is loud. When your ears hit earphones, you grab them harshly and yank them out. The sound instantly gets quieter, distant now as they rest in your lap.

Well, that's a shocking way to wake up. Your body feels weird after waking up so suddenly, buzzing a bit as if you are in danger. You give yourself a few moments to just breathe until your body calms down, your brain mentally going through everything you need to do before your hike today. You are not planning to make it to the top, but you are hoping to make it at least further than the rocky ledge of yesterday.

Despite the sudden awakening, you feel sluggish as you finally make your way out of bed. It takes you a bit longer than normal to get everything done, but you still make it out the door within your desired time. You stop in at the local cafe, grabbing a large coffee, and heading out to the mountain. The coffee kicks in by the time you make it there, body buzzing with caffeine and excitement for your day. You park your car in its regular spot, an unassuming area with the smallest hint of a trail, and head out.

The sun is getting high in the sky by the time you pass the forest and reach the foot of the mountain. With the days getting shorter, maybe you should have tried to come earlier, but as it is you will have enough time for what you want to do. You make a quick reminder to start even earlier next time and begin the trek up.

It's a nice day, honestly, and you are enjoying yourself immensely as you climb. The trees have lost a lot of their leaves already, but there is a beauty in that as well. You hum quietly to yourself as you walk, eyes continuously scanning the surrounding area for any threats. With the trees as bare as they are, it’s actually pretty easy to keep an idea of your surroundings for most of the trail; however, up ahead it takes a rough corner through a group of rocks. The rocks completely obscure your view, and you are prepared to take that area slower than normal.That's when it happens.

You flinch as a figure rounds the corner ahead, coming into view quickly. A man. Your hand instinctively goes to fiddle at the clip for the spray. It takes you only a moment to recognize him as he turns, also pausing a second as he sees you.

It’s him. The asshole of the mountain.

He looks like he is on his way down, which is a bit odd considering the time of day. Did he stay overnight on the mountain?

You look over his outfit. It's slightly better than before. At least he is wearing a jacket, although it looks too light for the climate. But you still don’t see any protection items. He scoffs, bringing your attention back to his face. He starts to walk down the trail towards you, hands relaxed in his jacket pocket despite the rough terrain.

“You really should wear more protection if you are coming up to the mountain.”  The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Maybe from a childhood of warnings and scary stories, of seeing people go up the mountain to never return, or possibly just frustration from your job at people who do not take the measures to protect themselves.

Your words are a bit sudden, sure, but the man doesn’t even acknowledge them. His eyes flicker to you briefly before he continues his descent. You are thrown off, made awkward at the complete lack of acknowledgment. What the? Who just completely ignores someone when they are talking? It’s obvious that you are talking to him, right?

“Hey, uh, sorry if I insulted you or something the other day.” You attempt, forcing a small smile. You reach for the spray at your hip and unclip it, offering it out. “But you really should take the bear spray. One of the villagers saw one the other day and…” You trail off as the man walks by you, completely ignoring your words.

Once again you are left standing holding out bear spray. What the absolute fuck. Your hand clutches the spray harder in anger as you spin to face his back. Well, fuck you too then . You narrow your eyes and raise a middle finger to his back, grinning when it goes unnoticed. Hah, take you fuck-

You hit the ground. The world spins wildly around you. The air is knocked out of you immediately and you gasp in the cold autumn air. Your hands grasp at the ground as if trying to steady you.

What happened?

You push yourself up a bit, glancing down at your body. Your right foot rests awkwardly on top of a tree root. You hadn’t seen it, too preoccupied with trying to one-up the asshole without him knowing. You move your foot a bit, but it doesn’t feel injured. It's a lucky break, honestly, as getting injured up here could spell a lot of trouble for you.

But you don’t feel too lucky as you lock eyes with the only other person on the trail. He has stopped walking, looking over his shoulder at you. You attempt the most prideful glare you can from your back on the ground. His eyes narrow briefly, but he turns to continue his walk down the mountain.

You wait until he is too far to see before letting out a loud groan. Your head rests back on the ground for a moment. Fuck. Of course, he saw that. Of course, the world wouldn’t give you this one win. After another moment of self-deprecation, you pull yourself up and wipe angrily at the dirt on your clothes.

In theory, the rest of the hike goes by peacefully. Nothing else happens, and normally you would be excited looking around at the nature surrounding you. In reality, you spend the entire time grumbling about a certain blonde. You make it to the same rock ridge you had been on the other day and climb up. The rocks are cold under your ass as you sit, a break. Part of you wants to give up for the rest of the day, your mood is already horrible. But you need to push forward if you want to make it to the top by the end of your month here.

After taking a quick look around the area, you reach into your pack and grab your sandwich and water bottle. Extremely basic, but you couldn’t be bothered to put more effort in this morning. You eat slowly, your brain unfortunately, stuck on the blond from earlier. What is his deal anyway? You chew angrily.

Once done, you shove the sandwich container and water bottle back into your pack, careful not to leave anything on the trail. You stretch and slide down the rocky ledge back to the trail.

A sound to your right. Something is there. Your head swings towards it, eyes focusing immediately on a potential threat.

It’s actually not a man this time. It's a bear. Fuck.

You reach down to your hip. Your hand grasps at just air. The spray is gone. Where the fuck did it... oh. You had been holding it when you fell, after offering it to the asshole. It must have rolled away. You didn’t even notice, too preoccupied with your anger.  

“Fuck.” You back away slowly, quietly, hoping it hasn't seen you but unable to properly see its face in the trees. Another sound. Shit. It’s definitely walking towards you. You begin to take quicker steps backward, abandoning quietness for speed and distance from the creature. Reaching backward, you try to get a hand into your pack to grab the spare spray.

It charges, and against all things you know you should do, you panic. You let out a scream and turn, running into the trees.

Your heart pounds in your chest, breath catching harshly as you bolt through the trees. You dart between trees in hopes that the bigger animal can't maneuver as well. You don’t know where you are going, or exactly how far the bear is. But you can hear it. It is there. Getting closer every moment. Fuck. You can’t outrun a bear.

You’re gonna die. Fuck fuck.

There is a loud sound in the distance. A bang.

You can’t afford to think about it. You run,

A boom. You run.

Even closer now.

You run.

A boom behind you, large and wild, is all you hear before a powerful gust of hot wind rams into your back. You trip immediately, falling harshly to the ground and rolling into a tree. A cough rips out of your lungs. Your eyes snap open immediately after, hands pushing yourself up. Experience tells you not to stay down when danger is imminent. But the scene in front of you is not what you expect.

The area directly in front of you is destroyed. Where trees once stood are now scattered remains some smoking. In the middle of the new clearing is the blond. He stands with his back to you, looking into the trees. Your eyes immediately follow the direction he is looking to see a brown figure disappearing into the trees.

“What the fuck…” You whisper, blinking wildly. You lean back against the tree for support, closing your eyes briefly to focus on your breathing to calm down. Going into shock would not do you well right now. For a moment there is silence, the only sound being your deep breaths and the occasional snapping of a tree.

“Oi!” You open your eyes. The blond turns towards you, looking you over for a moment. “What happened to the fucking bear spray, idiot?” That unimpressed look appears on his face again, a scowl that sends shivers down your spine.

Fuck you. That is what your instincts tell you to say to that. But, he did just save your life. You grit your teeth together and force out a quiet ‘thank you’. You are not too sure if he heard you, but he doesn’t say anything. He turns, sliding his hands in his pocket to walk in the direction that you came from.

A second. He stops. “Well?” He looks back, intense gaze focused on you. “Move it, extra.”

Your eyes narrow, anger at being called an extra threatening to boil over. A calming breath and you pull yourself into a standing position.  “Right.” You follow.

The walk down is quiet. You follow the blond a few feet behind, looking around the forest as you go. There is no more movement around you, the forest dead as if nothing had ever happened. But what had happened? You look at the man in front of you, biting your lip. Obviously, this had something to do with the blonds' quirk, right? How did he even get up there so fast?

Wait. Is that the noise you’ve been hearing from the mountain?

Eventually, you reunite with the trail, only a bit before the mountain merges into a flat forest. He stops, taking a step back and gesturing with a grunt for you to begin walking down. You pass him beginning the trek, but he isn't following. You pause, looking back. The blond stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you with those intense eyes.

What the hell is he doing up on the mountain? Why is he here? You narrow your eyes, considering him.

“What?” His gruff voice sounds muffled. “Y’wanna fuckin autograph or somethin’.”

Huh?

“Huh?” You repeat your thoughts. “Um, no, I just…” You trail off. In the end, he doesn’t seem to be doing anything bad up on the mountain. “Listen. Thank you for, uh, saving me.” You speak more confidently. “But you can’t be using your quirk like this without a license.”

His eyes widen, light eyebrows rising in surprise. “Hah?!”

“I mean, you are not the first person to come here thinking they can practice on the mountain without anyone knowing.” You continue. “Not only does it pose a huge risk to the local wildlife and mountain as a whole, but if you got hurt there would be nobody to help you.”

“Help me ?!" That gruff voice got louder, angrier. His shoulders tense. You put your hands up in a placating gesture.

“I won’t say anything, promise. I owe you one after that.” You continue. “But I can hear you from the village, and I’m sure others will too. I’d hate for someone to call the police or the heroes on you.”

A brief silence, where the blond looks a weird mix of shocked and completely pissed off. You take that as your opportunity to leave before he gets really angry, turning on your heel and beginning the rest of your hike. Your hand runs over the extra can of bear spray now solidly clipped to your hip.

You make it through the bottom of the mountain quickly with no further incident. The sight of your car on the side of the road fills you with relief. Honestly, you were not sure if you’d ever see it again. You run your hand over the hood thoughtfully as you walk around to the driver's side.

A booming sound echoes from further up the mountain. You look up, but see nothing. A few more sounds after. Then quiet.

“Fucking idiot.” You muse, turning on the engine.

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 28 - The Club

Once again just a friendly warning that this episode features and discusses teenage drinking

Varian stumbled out of bed and yawned. He looked at the clock and noticed the time. 6:30. Shoot! He was suppose to be up before six!

He threw on some clothes and rushed down stairs to the cafe.

Hiro and Aunt Cass were already down there setting up for the day.

"Sorry.. I slept in." He apologized. "Why didn't anybody wake me?"

"Oh well, I figured you could use the sleep. Besides it's only thirty after. Sit down and have some breakfast." Aunt Cass placed a couple of egg sandwiches on the table along with a cup of coffee and a cup of orange juice and encouraged the two boys to have a seat. While they both ate, Aunt Cass blithely carried on the conversation.

"So how did last night go?"

Varian eyed Hiro who glared at him over his sandwich but didn't say anything. "It went great actually. I even met someone while there."

"Oooh, that's wonderful sweetie. I'm so happy that you're making friends."

"Her name's Carol and she's a freshmen at the Art Institute. She just moved here from Mississippi, so she's new in town like I am."

"Oh, so she's what, 17... 18?"

"I..I honestly don't know. I didn't think to ask. But she invited me to another party tonight. If it's okay, I thought I might go. I could find out then."

"Another party?" Aunt Cass raised an eyebrow. It was a holiday weekend sure, but it was unusual to get invited to two parties in two days.

"Yeah, it's Jessica's birthday. She's Carol's friend and another person I met at the art school. They're all going to some restaurant to go dancing at. I forgot the name of the place, but Carol was going to text me directions if I could make it."

Aunt Cass thought a moment about it and then nodded along. "Well okay, just let me know where and text me when you get there. Also, once again, try not to stay out too late."

"Wait." Hiro interjected. He couldn't believe the ease with which Varian lied, nor could he believe that the other teen had just tricked Aunt Cass into letting him go out again to another wild party. He considered telling the truth right then and there, but the angry glare from Varian reminded Hiro of their argument last night and how Varian held dirt over himself as well. So he came up with an excuse instead. "I...I thought you wanted us all to spend more time together this weekend?"

"Well there's still Sunday tomorrow." Aunt Cass answered. "Why don't we have family movie night again? What do ya say? We could go out to the theater and catch a new release. I think their playing some sort of superhero movie this week."

The boys exchanged awkward glances but in the end agreed. Neither were ready to include Aunt Cass into their current feud. Besides she looked so happy at the thought of them all going out and spending time together as a family, that they just didn't have the heart to disappoint her.

They finished breakfast and Hiro left to meet with the rest of the gang. Varian however stayed to help with the cafe as promised.

"You know," Aunt Cass said while they washed up the morning dishes together. "I know it's only been a month, but I want you to know that we're all so glad to have you here. It hasn't been the easiest thing in the world readjusting, I know, but things are really working out; you're making friends, you and Hiro are really coming together here lately, and most of all you make our family just a little bit bigger and a whole lot happier just by being here."

She placed a loving hand on his shoulder, and Varian felt his heart drop at those worlds. He still didn't feel like he fit in here with the Hamadas and his relationship with Hiro had only degraded over this past week, which was already rocky enough to begin with. But Aunt Cass was so loving and hopeful that Varian only felt guilty for not measuring up to her ideals.

He gave her a small smile but deep down he couldn't wait to get out of here and back to another party. One where no one really knew who he was nor cared. Where he could drown out his intrusive thoughts and self doubt with a stiff drink.

"He went to the frat party?" Honey Lemon asked in worry.

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

Hiro was with the rest their friends at Joe's Dinner, recounting his argument with Varian last night.

"And you're sure he'd been drinking?" Gogo also asked with a frown.

"He said so himself and he smelt like beer when he came in." Hiro confirmed.

Gogo's eyes narrowed but she didn't say anything further.

"So what did you do?" Wasabi asked.

"Nothing. I..I wasn't sure how to tell Aunt Cass." Hiro looked around at his group of friends who were all giving him judgemental stares. "Look, I was still in my armor, alright. It was past midnight, and Varian had a point when he said that he covered for us all the time."

"You mean he covered for you ." Fred pointed out. "You're the one hiding your superheroing from Aunt Cass."

Hiro heaved a sigh, but Wasabi added his own opinion before he could offer up a defense. "You should have told her. Both about the drinking and about you being in big hero six. She's going to find out someday anyways and the longer you put it off the worst it's going to be."

Hiro cast his eyes downward unable to come up with a retort to that.

"Where's Varian now?" Gogo asked.

"Working at the Lucky Cat and after that he's going to another party."

"Another one?" Honey Lemon interjected.

"Someone he met at the other party invited him to go dancing tonight. He convinced Aunt Cass that it was just innocent birthday party." Hiro explained.

Everyone exchanged worried looks.

"You need to tell Aunt Cass." Gogo insisted.

"No, wait." Hiro pleaded. "Look, maybe we can handle this ourselves. Varian won't listen to me, but he might listen to all of you. Then there'd be no reason to involve Aunt Cass in any of this."

"And if he doesn't listen?" Fred asked.

"Hiro, why are you so against just letting an adult handle this?" Wasabi added.

"Look, Tadashi would go after him. He'd be there to help and try to reason with him, not be a snitch."

Hiro's explanation only elected more worried glances.

"And did it ever occur to you that Tadashi wasn't always in the right?" Gogo asked.

"What do you mean?" Hiro asked with trepidation.

Gogo sighed, "Look, we all miss Tadashi. He was a wonderful person… but that doesn't mean didn't make mistakes. Just because he kept trying to bail you out of those bot fights himself doesn't mean he should have."

Hiro had no words for that. Never in a million years would he have questioned Tadashi's methods. If it wasn't for his brother he would still have been bot fighting, and would have either been hurt or in juvie right now if not for trying to reach out to him.

He searched Gogo's eyes questioningly before she heaved a sigh in frustration and relented. "Fine. Where is this party?"

"I don't know. We'll probably have to just follow him; catch him before he gets there."

"Then I propose we suit up." Fred said. "To the headquarters!"

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

Varian stood in line to get into Monroe's with Carol and the rest of her friends. He'd had rushed to find Jessica a birthday card and a small gift and met them all at the restaurant right around nine. Only the restaurant, wasn't a restaurant, it was called a 'club' instead. There was still food and drink to be had, but the real reason folks came here was to dance, and Varian could hear the loud thumping music even from where he stood outside.  

"Must be a really popular place." He shouted to Carol over the music and other party goers. "I don't see how we'll be able to dance with such a crowd."

Carol laughed "Yeah, Monroe's like the hottest spot in town. But there'll be room, the line just makes it look more crowded than it is."

Varian looked up ahead and spotted a large man at the front of the line. People were handing him cards or flashing their wallets towards him. Upon inspecting the cards he would then let them in through the door.

"What's he doing?" Varian asked.

Carol looked at him in surprise. "Checking I.D. They don't let you into the club unless you can prove your 21. That way they don't have to check everybody who wants to buy a drink inside."

Varian's heart stopped. No one here knew his actual age he realized. At the last party it didn't seem to matter so he hadn't brought it up, but here he'd be found out and no doubt made to look the fool all because he didn't meet some abritay requirement.

"I...I don't think they'll let me in then." Varian admitted to the girl.

"Why not?"

"Well, I haven't a license yet, and.." Varian was going to admit the truth but Carol interrupted.

"Oh, cause you just moved here." She nodded her head as if she had just figured out his problem. "Well you have some other sort of ID don't you? A passport or a visa?"

"Yeah I have both those things, but you don't understand.."

Carol placed a hand on his chest to stop him. "Don't worry boo. We got you. We'll make sure you get in." She gave him a smile and a wink.

"Wouldn't be first time we snuck someone in." Jake put in.

"It wouldn't?"

Jessica laughed. "You think we're all 21 one? I mean I am, it's my birthday, but I wasn't always. Besides it's a dumb law anyways."

"If you're old enough to vote and join the army, you should be old enough to drink." Another one of Carol's friends, Daryl, interceded.

Everyone in the group seemed to be in agreement with this sentiment and Varian relaxed just a little bit. Though only a little. He wasn't necessarily voting age either.

"There's no age laws in Corona. Everybody drinks." Varian added.

"That's right, Europe doesn't have the same laws as we do." Carol said as if only just now considering the difference.

"I went to Germany once." Mary said; she was Daryl's girlfriend. "I was in high school and was able to get into a bar no problem. They just don't care over there."

"I'd love to visit Europe someday." Carol said, changing the subject. "I think Ireland would be a cool place to visit."

"I'd like to see Spain." Jessica threw her opinion in. "Would you take me see Spain baby?" She asked of Jake teasingly.

"Sure, if you got a couple of thousands of dollars lying around." Jake joked.

This elected more laughter from the small group of poor college students, and Varian's worry began to wane. Only to kick back up once they reached the front of the line. Panicked he dug into his pocket and pulled out the fake passport that Professor Granville had given him.

"What's this?" The bouncer at the door said incredulously.

"It's a passport." Carol said forcefully before Varian could answer. "Ain't you ever seen a passport before?"

"It's not even in English." The guard threw back annoyed and he flipped the booklet around to show off the I.D.

"Well of course not." Carol rolled her eyes. "It's in Russian. He's from Russia."

"Ok, prove it. Say hello in Russian." The bouncer clearly didn't believe them.

"Um.. privyet?" Varian answered hesitantly. It was a bit of a loaded question as there was more than one way to say hello in Russian, but Varian defaulted to the more informal greeting as it's what he and his dad would use most often.

The guard raised an eyebrow still not convinced.

"I also have my visa and college I.D. if you want that instead." Varian offered helpfully as he pulled out his wallet. He didn't think it'd be enough to let him in but better to be cooperative then to start a fight.

Just then Daryl from behind them yelled, "Hey, what's the hold up!?"

The bouncer took a look at the long line spiraling behind them and rolled his eyes while heaving a frustrated sigh. He didn't have time for this. "Fine." He said as he handed back the passport. "Go on in."

"Thanks." Varian mumbled as he took the I.D. back. He couldn't believe that had just worked.

"Yeah!" Carol added and then stopped to ask Varian in a whisper. "Uh, how do you say thanks in Russian?"

"Spasibo." Varian replied.

"Yeah, Spasibo!" Carol called back to the security guard in very bad mispounation of the word before they headed into the club.

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

"He's already left. We just missed him." Hiro said as he hung up the phone.

The gang huddled upon a rooftop across the street from the Lucky Cat. They had wanted to catch Varian while he was leaving, but it seemed like they were too late.

"Did your aunt say where he went?" Gogo asked.

"No, and I couldn't figure out a way to ask her without raising suspicion."

"Why not just call him instead?" Honey Lemon suggest. "Ask him himself where he's at and tell him we want to meet up."

"I doubt he'd want to talk to me" Hiro sighed.

"I'm on it." Wasabi said, but after several rings the call went to voicemail.

"Now what?" Fred asked.

"Looks like we'll just have to track him down the old fashioned way." Hiro said as he walked over to Baymax and mounted the robot. "Let's go."

Everyone dispersed to look for the wayward teen.

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

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" The merry group chanted as Varian and Jessica competed to see who could finish a whole pint of beer first. The others having given up the challenge before hand. They were neck and neck but the birthday girl sputtered with laughter at the last minute and Varian scored the win. He slammed the empty mug on the the table with a wide grin as the rest of the gang applauded.

"Ok, you win," Jessica conceded. "But beer is easy. I'd like to see you try that with some hard stuff, like whiskey or tequila."

"I don't know what tequila is, but your on!" Varian shouted over the den of noise.

The club was dark and smoky, with the only light coming from the flashing strobe globe twirling above the dance floor. Music blared a thumping beat that resonated in your chest and patrons crowded around to dance, drink, and make out. The little group had taken up a small round table off in the corner so as the better hear each other talk, but even then one had to half yell to be heard.

"Hey, can we get some shots over here?" Jake called to a waitress, then he turned to Varian and said, "Okay, you wanna play? We'll do a round of shots. Most down the hatch wins. Loser pays for the drinks."

"Deal" Varian agreed.

The waitress brought a tray of shots and Varian eyed the small glasses smugly. You could down one in a single gulp. This would be easy he thought. Only to nearly lose with the first sip alone. Whatever this tequila was, it was stronger than either ale or wine and burned the back of his throat as it went down. He finished the drink and tried to suppress a cough.

"Not as easy as you thought it was, hun?" Jake smiled as he picked up his second glass.

Varian however was not one to give up easily, and besides he really didn't want to blow through all of his hard earned money in one night. So he steeled himself and grabbed another shot, and then a another, and another.

On the fourth shot Varian saw Jake starting to slow, his face becoming red from alcohol. Varian too was becoming lightheaded but he pressed on and nabbed his fifth drink. He didn't notice if Jake had drunk his fifth yet or not, he was too focused on winning, but as he reached for the sixth he heard the other guy call out defeat.

"Okay, okay! You win!"

Varian flashed a grin and drunk the sixth anyway in celebration; just to rub it into other college kid's face. This last glass he also slammed hard upon the table in victory as the tiny crowd around him cheered.

Jake pulled out his wallet to pay the tab, both annoyed and begrudgingly impressed that he had lost.

"You're like the scrawniest guy alive; where do you put it all?" Daryl asked incredulously.

Varian shrugged his shoulders as he had no real answer to give.

"Well let's take a break from the booze for a while." Carol interceeded. "I mean we came here to dance after all. That is if you boys can still stand after all that."

She tugged on Varian's sleeve and pulled him to the dance floor and the rest of group followed after them.

Varian stood in the middle of the floor at a lost of what to do. He wasn't a bad dancer persay, but he didn't know any American steps and he doubted any of the more traditional folk dances that he knew would fit with this type of music.

"So..how does this dance go?" He shouted Carol above the music.

She laughed, "Anyway you want it to. Just feel the music." She swayed her hips in time to the beat to give him an idea.

Varian figured he would look silly doing that, it was clearly more of a move for women, but he did see most of the men jumping up and down and so he tried this in time with the music.  

"Yeah, that's right! You got it!" Carol encouraged as she slid closer to him.

"Any luck?" Gogo asked Hiro as the gang gathered on top of a building in the middle of downtown.  

Embolden, he grabbed her hand and gave her a twirl. This enlightened more laughter and they both broke down into giggles before carrying on with their dance.

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

"Baymax found an energy reading similar to Varian's close by, but it's fuzzy. He's probably in one of the buildings around here, but there's like eight or more clubs just on this street." Hiro explained.

"Well we can probably go in and check while you can stay out here and keep an eye on things." Honey Lemon suggested.

"Yeah, but there's no guarantee they'd let any of us in either." Fred pointed out."None of us are over 21."

"Look maybe we're over reacting here?" Wasabi offered optimistically. "What makes you think Varian could of snuck into any of these places? The kid still looks like he's twelve and he doesn't even have a driver license. Or it could even be that he was telling the truth about it being an innocent birthday par...."

He paused mid-thought as they heard a familiar laugh coming from the street below.

"I have found Varian." Baymax said, stating the obvious as they all peered over the roof to see their friend drunkenly walk out of one of the clubs across the street. He was with a short girl with a dark curly afro and they were giggling over something as they made their way towards the bus stop nearby.

"Or he could be stumbling out of a bar with a drunk girl hanging on his arm." Wasabi corrected himself, clearly disappointed.

Honey Lemon frowned. "I know her...she's in the sorority at SFAI."

"Carol." Gogo confirmed. She had been dragged to the occasional makeup party there, by Honey Lemon herself no less. "But she's a freshman. No way she's old enough to be drinking either."

"Peer pressure can often persuade people into partaking in unsafe activities." Baymax stated as he launched into his health education protocols. "If someone is pressuring you into doing something that you don't feel is safe; say no and walk away..."

"Uh, yes, Baymax. We know." Hiro informed the robot.

"So do we go down there now to talk to him, ooorrrr..." Fred asked, but the arrival of the bus answered for him. Varian and the girl boarded the public transport before anyone could to do anything.

They all exchanged worried and exasperated looks with each other before taking off to follow the tram.

Varian stood in the middle of the bus holding on to one of the center poles. He and Carol were the only two occupants aboard besides the driver, and he could have sat down anywhere, but he was beginning to feel woozy from all the alcohol and standing upright helped to keep him balanced.

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

Carol however decided to sit down. She sat across from him with her face in the palm of her hand and her eyes sleepily staring out at nothing in particular.

"Do you have to work tomorrow too?" She asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

"Uh..not sure. Probably. I usually work weekends. Either way though, I know my aunt has been talking about us all spending some 'quality family time' together all weekend long."

Carol smiled. "Responsible, family man, a great dancer, it's a wonder you're still single."

Varian blushed but laughed off her comment. "Responsible? Me? Yeah, no…..but family does mean a lot to me and I did promise Aunt Cass, soooo, sorry I had to bail out early again. But you know, you could have stayed at the party without me."

Carol shrugged. "Eh, I was about done anyways. The guys are fun to hang out with and all, but after awhile you start to feel like a fifth wheel, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know how that feels like." Varian agreed dryly.

"But you do know you didn't have to escort me home right?" Carol added with a laugh.

"I know, I just, I wanted to make sure you got home safe."

"Ever the true gentlemen, hun?"

Her smile grew wider and Varian couldn't tell if she was teasing or flirting. He rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. He was beginning to like this new girl, but he wasn't always the best at picking up social cues and he didn't want to ruin anything by being presumptuous.

"Well, I don't know about that, but looking out for one another is just what friends do, right?"

Carol looked surprised by that comment. "I..I guess…I have a hard time picturing Jake or Daryl doing anything so chivalrous through."

She snickered at that, but Varian tilted his head in confusion.  

"But I thought you guys were friends?"

"Oh don't get me wrong, they're good people and all, it's just all we do is hang out at parties sometimes. I don't expect them to like loan me money or come and bail me out of the slammer or anything. We ain't that close."

She sounded nonchalant but Varian nevertheless grew concerned.

"Then who is?" He asked.

Carol was caught off guard by that question.

"Who do you call when you need help?" He clarified.

She opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out and she just as quickly closed it again. They awkwardly stared at each other for a few moments before the bus came to a stop in front of the SFAI campus. Carol quickly got up and hurried off the tram. Varian rushed after her.

"I'm sorry! Did I say something wrong?"

She didn't answer him but instead started to storm up the front porch steps in front of the sorority house.

"Look, I didn't mean to offend you." He called after. "I..I just…"

He trailed off and she paused on the stair. She didn't turn to face him, but the very fact that she was no longer running away encouraged him to try again.

"Look, I just, I know what it's like to be on your own, and I know how hard it is to move someplace where you don't really know anybody and nothings familiar and you don't feel like you always fit in. I.. I just meant that if you ever needed someone, for anything, you could call me...you know, if..if you wanted to.. that is."

She finally turned to look at him with that admission. There was a pout on her face and tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she tried to make a joke instead to distract from this.

"You know most folks don't talk like you do." She half heartedly laughed. "You sound like a character out of a cheap rom-com."

He offered her a small smile. "Eh, well, what can I say? I am Russian remember."

They broke down into soft giggles at that.

"You wanna come inside and grab a coffee?" She asked after there laughter had subsided.

"Oh, I'd love to, buuuut it's after one. I should probably get going soon." He declined.

"Well alright, but you have my number, so don't be a stranger." She said before giving him a wink and another of her charming smiles.

She waved him goodbye before heading inside. Varian waved back and then turned to leave, only to be confronted by the rest of his friends waiting for him at the bus stop.

They were dressed in their armor and stood there glaring at him sternly.

"Hey...guys.." Varian slowly said, confused as to why they were here."What's going on?"

"We could ask you the same thing." Gogo replied.

"Uh...well, I'm heading home from a party, soooo..." He made to leave, fully ready to just walk to the next stop instead of hanging around for yet another argument, but Wasabi placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Do have any idea what an incredibly stupid thing you just did today?" His friend asked.

Varian cast him an angry pout and back-peddled away defensively. He stumbled a little, still feeling tipsy from the tequila, but righted himself before falling.

"You can barely even stand up." Wasabi admonish, further driving home his point.

Varian huffed in frustration and threw an accusing glare at Hiro. He was getting really tired of everyone judging him and he rightly guessed that the other boy had dragged their other friends into this. However before he could respond, Gogo laid into him instead.

"You broke your promise."

Varian's stomach dropped as he realized that, yes, he had indeed went back on his word about not trying to purchase alcohol. Yet, he still wasn't ready to admit fault. Who were they to act so high and mighty? It was just a few drinks? It wasn't like he had hurt anybody.

"So what's it to you?" He threw back."It's not like what I do affects any of you. Me going to a party now and then doesn't harm anyone."

"B..but you could get hurt." Honey Lemon timidly said.

Varian looked at her confused. What did she mean hurt? It was just a party.

"You snuck into a club at sixteen with bunch of strangers." Fred explained. "Like that's just ain't safe, man."

"Fred's right," Wasabi added, "anything could have happened to you in there and we wouldn't have known."

And for the first time, Varian started to actually feel guilty as he realized just how worried his friends were for him. However his defensiveness kicked back up when Hiro added his two cents.

"You need to stop and think about what you're doing first. You can't just keep jumping into situations without…"

" Oh knock it off!" Varian interrupted. "I am sick and and tired of everyone telling me what I can and can't do! I've been on my own since I was fourteen! I know how to take care of myself, alright!"

"No you don't." Gogo pushed back. "You know how to survive, and I hate that you had to, but that's not the same thing as actually being mature. Now just stop and come with us; we're taking you home."

She reached out to grab hold of Varian's sleeve and to pull him along, but Varian wouldn't comply. He wasn't entirely sure what happened next, in his addled state, but she pulled in one direction and he tugged his arm away in another. Either her blades rolled out from under her or he didn't realize his own strength, but either way Gogo wound up lying flat on the ground after their struggle.

Everyone froze in shock and Varian felt his heart race as his anger turned into alarm and shame.

"Gogo!" Honey Lemon rushed to her friend's side to help her up. "Are you alright?"

Gogo refused the help however. Instead she gave Varian a hurtful and angry glare as she picked herself off the ground. His breath shallowed as he waited for her to go off again, but all she did was shake her head at him, turned around, and then skated away.

That was somehow even worse than a lecture.

Honey Lemon followed after her.

"Dude, what is wrong with you!?" Hiro reprimanded and all Varian could do was look at him with wide eyes. What was wrong with him?

"I...I...I don't know!" He choked." I just...I just wanted to forget… just for a little awhile. Forget that I'm...I'm.. b-broken."

"And how does this help?" Wasabi asked, and Varian had no answer.

"Look, I know you've been through some really messed up stuff." Wasabi continued. "More than most people ever will, and I'm sorry you had to go through that, but you can't keep on like this." He sighed in defeat. "Come and gets us when your ready to actually deal with things." And then he too turned and started to walk off.

Fred cast worried glances between Varian and the direction of where their friends were leaving, unsure of what to do. Ultimately, he too turned away and reluctantly made after the rest of the group.

Varian could hardly see through the tears now. They were leaving him. Everyone was leaving him. They always did at some point, and here he had dared to hope things might just be different in this new world. Yet, he had no one to blame but himself.

That's when he noticed Hiro and Baymax still standing there, watching him disquitedly.

"Well, aren't you going to leave too?" He asked accusingly.

Hiro took a moment to find the answer, but when he did he said, "Why should I? We're going to the same place, remember." He held out a hand to Varian. "Come on, Aunt Cass is waiting."

Varian blinked through his tears to see Hiro standing before him with his arm outstretched and a look of concern on his face. Varian's breath quickened and his vision swam. He had felt lightheaded all night and now the added stress of the recent fight only seemed to highlight just how drunk he really was. He was so sure he had been careful, that he hadn't really had that much, but that didn't stop the ground from rushing up to meet him as he fell, nor the darkness enclosing around him as he fainted dead away.

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 004

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hello all! Pushing out a baby chapter early so I can focus on my other fic! Thank you so much for the support on this fic. Billy goes to dinner and Tries It. That's the chapter. :D  Tag list open!!!

Chapter 4: No Day But Today

   “Claudia, do you have the keys?” Mona crossed the salon floor.

   “I do, we’re fine here, go on. Dusty is spending the night at the Wheeler’s place. Having some castle and dragons party.” She'd gushed.

   “Feel free to close up early if we’re dead the last hour. Thanks, sugar.” Mona patted her back as she followed Evie out the door.

   “Can I drive?”

   “I was hoping you’d ask.” Mona smiled.

   Evie was saving for a car. And college. And her future. 

   And it was a lot.

   Truthfully, she didn’t care for school. It was in the way. Wished her lyrics could carry her straight to the red carpet before all those flashing paparazzi.

   Wanting to unwind, Evie hid in her room when she got home. Shut the curtains and prodded at herself before the vanity. Sorted dangly earrings in a mesh metal display. Huffing to lean over when Bourbon swept into her legs. His little body shivered and she plucked him up.

   “Okay, BB, you’re my best guy. You can’t let me down.” She scratched under his chin, gave him a little boop on the nose. “You take one look at that walking Def Leppard poster and you hiss and run. Got it?”

   A purr.

   “Good boy. You’re my only hope here. We can’t lose. Not to Billy Hargrove.” Arms let him down. She'd feel this sentiment often about Billy. A sigh. Evie applied a fresh lip color and paused. “Ugh.” She pushed up and didn’t change. Did her school work to get it out of the way and wandered out, turning the TV on to some game show. The savory smell of dinner wafted. “Need help here, Mom?” One tug and the ceiling fan spun, cycling cooler air.

   “No, I have it. You can set the table for me.” Mona drained some noodles.

   “Got it.” Plates and cutlery clicked around. Evie slid everything into place, perked up when the doorbell rang. Mona turned and smiled as her daughter adjusted fabric and fixed curls into place all the way to the door.

   Evie half expected Billy to not even show. But, there he was. Sly smile and all. Billow of date night cologne. A vision in moonlight.

   “Hey.” Evie said slowly. The surprise evident.

   “Hey." He mirrored it.

   "You're here." An exhale out. He blinked, found himself again.

   "I was gonna steal flowers from the old lady’s garden across the way, but there’s a huge opossum in her trash guarding it.” He tilted his head, earring catching the porch light and she cracked a grin.

   "Big Ben? Yeah, he's the neighborhood menace. Chief Hopper's nemesis because they get so many calls about it. You'd be a hero if you took him on." Evie persuaded lighter. His face fell.

   "I'm not trying to die in Hawkins, Indiana. That thing was bigger than anyone on our football team."

   “Color me impressed. King Billy didn’t want to do battle for the first time?” She actually teased him. Her nose crinkled when she smiled. Cute. “Shock and awe.”

   Billy felt this tug pulse up his ribcage. Pulled a genuine chuckle from his lips. He had to look away to give it. Glowy in starlight.

   “Sometimes I surprise people. I know my weight class and the pests here look like they were grown and mutated in some lab.” He shrugged into the door frame with one fist lifted, clicking his lighter shut. Hooded eyes all over. Evie went still as he leaned forward to her face with his tone lowering. “Am I allowed inside? Pretty please?”

   “With cherries on top?" Bright, wet lips parted. His lashes fluttered, a baritone sinking. Bringing her with him.

   "With anything your heart desires on top." Smooth.

   "Huh. I guess. For now.” Evie stepped out of the way. “We go to school with plenty of those lab grown pests by the way.”

   “No kidding.” Billy shrugged his jacket off and she awkwardly reached to take it. Hung it up behind her.

   Evie turned to see him staring again and swallowed a hard lump down. Thought maybe he saw all the begonias blooming behind her eyes and up her throat.

   “Billy.” Mona came out of the kitchen, arms out. “So glad you’re here.”

   “You saved me from a sad date with a TV dinner.” Billy winked, charming Ms. Fenny to bits. She giggled and shook her hair out.

   “Dinner’s got about ten minutes. Why don’t you show him around, baby?” Mona hurried back off, leaving them alone again.

   “Tour? Great idea." He peered behind Evie. A mission at hand. "Where’s the cat?”

   “Hiding from you, clearly.” Evie beamed, gesturing. “Welcome to the living room. Mom's showroom is a better word.”

   “Your mom like tchotchkes or what?” He came to the full mantle. Scanning.

   “How’d you guess?” Evie reluctantly trailed to his side.

   It was strange to let this boy wander around and see little bits of her life. Guess things about her as he went along, trailing deft fingers about the fireplace. She wondered what was blooming within the pit of his stomach, if anything.

   Mona Fenny's house overwhelmed.

   Photographs, plants, and crafts. Little porcelain figurines. Too many handmade candles. Crochet projects. A full dollhouse on a table in the corner.

   “My grandma passed a lot of craft skills down. She owned this amazingly strange trinket and voodoo shop in New Orleans that my aunts run now after Nana died."

   "Your mom didn't stay for a piece of that?" Billy let his eyes trail over every little thing.

   "Ah, I don't know. She was the baby and married pretty young. Seemed like she wanted something new," Evie peered behind her and whispered. "Never really got along with Nana like her older sisters did."

   Billy hummed a little. Decided not to pry with Mona in the next room. Evie brought him to the corner and flicked a lamp on.

   "Mom’s dollhouse is her pride and joy. Lights up and everything.”

   “Tell me why your mother has a framed photograph of Dolly Parton next to a picture of you two on the fireplace. And the same photo shrunk down in the dollhouse?”

   “Science may tell us the truth one day when the world is ready. And I fear for that day.” She replied in all seriousness and Billy snorted. Laughing.

   A truly enchanting sound Evie decided she liked.

   “And I have to say,” he plucked a photo off a bookshelf with a broad grin, “this one is my favorite.”

   One of Evie on Halloween. Had to be about six. Dressed in the campiest pink daisy costume with a huge toothy smile.

   “Gah,” she cringed and swiped it from his hand, “this house is a museum of embarrassment.”

   “You’re into the museum shit, guess this is like our first-” Billy stopped himself from producing the damning word when Evie turned. Blushing. Oof. He scratched the back of his neck. “So, uh, you got a bedroom in here or do you sleep in the dollhouse?”

   “You won’t find the cat that easily.” She caught him peering around again and led him past the kitchen. “C’mon, not much to the rest of the house. Garage. Spare room.” That used to be her dad’s office space. “Mom’s room. Attic up there and on this end. My cat's room that he lets me stay in too.”

   The door was open so Billy prodded it to peek inside. Evie exhaled and flicked the light on.

   It didn’t feel like a teenage girl’s bedroom. Not covered in decorations and pictures like the rest of the house. No posters cut from magazines covered in pink lipstick kisses.

   A vanity full of disorganized makeup. Desk. Overfilled bookcase of novels and tapes. Crafts and trinkets she collected in labeled tin boxes. Dresser covered in jewelry. Music player. Bed. Closet. Couple of pictures taped by the vanity and headboard. Mostly Evie and Heather laughing and bright. Her beloved acoustic guitar propped in the corner. 

   It felt like it was decorated by one trying to take up as little space as possible. Everything was compacted. Billy eyed the wall by her bed. Realized most of the papers were notes with random lyrics and words patched together.

   “Yeah, I tend to jot every little thought down even when I’m half asleep and hope it makes a song eventually.” She peered aside. It felt too intimate, letting Billy shift about the space.

   "Hey, everybody has a method." Two fingers traced over a note taped up to straighten it. She caught the ring gleaming on his middle finger. “My-”

   “Ah, don’t read them aloud, I may combust.” 

   “Oh?” Billy slunk toward her, licked his lips. A hungry way about it. Mouth watering fangs full of sweet venom. Wonder how they'd feel sinking into her throat. “Because I make you nervous, Angel?”

   “No, it’s just...just…weird.” Evie pressed up into her desk. Billy closed the distance. Got within inches of her. “It’s weird.”

   Repetition didn’t ease the sear of those ocean eyes drowning her too sweetly. She felt her chest fill and flutter all the way down. Flowers unfurled to be plucked and caressed. Billy pushed into the space until she was seated there on the desk. Scrambling further. Unable to climb the wall.

   “You do seem nervous though, Evie.” His tone hushed. Fingers brushed her thighs and palms came to rest there. The bunched fabric of her dress barely separating them. She inhaled his cologne. Smelled peppermint from his breath. Chest heaving.

   Billy knew this wasn’t part of the quest. If that’s what this was, maybe that was a nicer way to put it. Maybe rationalizing it a thousand times would help him get some sleep at night. Just show her a good night, cash in, and go home.

   It still sounded shitty. Wasn't doing Evie any favors. This girl painted too many iridescent colors. They could bleed and Billy wouldn't step away if it pooled too close.

   He liked to watch the blush spread across her freckled cheeks. Rose petals falling into a cool pond. Liked the way her nose scrunched when she smiled and when she was cross with him. 

   Billy didn't want her because she was a conquest. A challenge. Sure, she challenged him, that was part of it. And she also made him smile like he was looking at the rocking ocean waves again. Sand and wind kissing his warm skin. There was a mystery in those molten eyes he wanted to taste for himself. Maybe it was possible to just enjoy a person without strings.

   To let colors bleed and swirl. To just watch it happen without fear or judgement. To not step away from it either. Just sink right in and create those echoing ripples.

   It was too sweet and peculiar, how soft Evangeline Fenny was against the hard edges of his steel frame. So sharp, it warded everyone off.

   But, not Evie, she fit perfectly against him. Fire with fire. It gave them so much in this world that had forgotten them both. Freckles to count. Eyelashes to wish upon. Flesh curves and razor angles to explore.

   Hell, he even enjoyed how shaken she got as he neared and how still she went when his fingers trailed up her legs. 

   Evie watched his muscled chest rise, the saint pendant caught the light. Looked up at his eyes and then his mouth because it couldn’t be helped. Billy Hargrove filled Evie's space and lungs with sugary smoke. He was too many colors in one soul. So, he pushed further because those painted lips were big and full and right fucking there.

   One curious taste, that couldn't hurt.

   Brought his hand up toward her chin and leaned forth when…

   “Dinner!” 

   Evie practically shoved Billy back. Scrambled up so the desk gave a rut. Bright red as he stumbled.

   “Sorry.” She shuddered, passing him. Smelling of amber perfume. “Coming, mom.” Billy stared at the back of her hair. Blinked a couple times to pull himself together. To rationalize some.

   Curiosity. A deadly thing and so sweet too.

   It felt like he was dreaming and woke up sitting at the dinner table. Evie clicked a Coke in front of him, flashed a knowing expression that made him smirk before she sat down.

   “Now, I left a bowl in the kitchen to cool. We always bring extra to Miss Abigail, she’s three doors down.” Mona was setting plates about.

   “It looks amazing, Ms. Fenny.” Billy even shifted a dish to help make room for another.

   “Please, Billy, just Mona. Ms. Fenny was my mother and she was a harder woman.” She set a glass of water down and smoothed her dress out, sitting. Billy went for his fork and his hand was snatched. Evie shot him a look as Mona reached out. “I always say grace. Don’t feel pressured to join, sweetheart.” 

   Billy peered at Evie’s warm hand in his and accepted her mother’s. Bowed his head a little so Mona could say her prayer. 

   “Bless us, oh Lord. For this and all we are about to receive, make us truly grateful. And thank you for bringing Billy to our humble table, may he truly feel welcomed in our home. Please guide and protect him. Through Christ, we pray. Amen.”

   “Amen.” Evie offered softer. Lips lifting when Billy peered at their hands again leaving each other. Clearly not expecting such words from a neighbor.

   “You’ll forgive me, Billy, some people say they leave their hearts open. I just let mine fill the room.” Mona settled a napkin in her lap. “May I ask, if your family is religious at all?”

   “Dad’s Lutheran.” Which meant Susan was by default now whatever she believed before. “We don’t go to church or anything.”

   As if Neil Hargrove could drag his son under a steeple without one of them spontaneously combusting.

   “Well, that’s perfectly fine.” Mona cut each of her meatballs into smaller pieces which Evie mirrored. “Evie doesn’t attend with me when I go. Although, the choir sure misses her voice.”

   “Mom...” A teenage whine, near silent as she prodded at noodles.

   “She get all the solos?” Billy encouraged the pink spreading Evie’s cheeks.

   “Oh, every single one. She’s even been asked to come sing the national anthem at minor league baseball games.” Mona prattled and Evie’s head fell back.

   “Mom!” Another drawn out groan. Evie sunk down lower.

   “Oh, Evangeline, let your mother brag about you.” Mona ignored her.

   "Yeah, Evangeline." He chimed in, earning a harder glare.

   “Now, Billy, you’ve been in Hawkins just over two months?” Mona continued. Blue eyes lifted from the plate before he gave a nod. “How are you liking it? I’m sure it’s such a huge change from California. You must miss the beach.”

   “Getting used to the cold.” Billy speared a meatball and didn’t sound convincing.

   “I’ll bet you’ve never seen snow before, your poor sinuses aren’t going to know what to do. Anyone in your family takes ill, just give us a ring.” Such a mom. “It took me a few years to get used to the cold here too. We moved when Evie was just a baby straight up from N’aw Lins.” 

   Billy bit his tongue.

   “What type of music do you write?” Billy asked and there was a beat when Evie realized he was looking at her. Addressing her pointedly. Maybe to make conversation and suck up to her talkative mother. Evie’s back grew taut, lips opening.

   “Evie’s gonna be a folk singer.” Mona had cut in. “Voice of an angel, she’ll make it big. She’s been in competitions, just one look from any talent scout and she’s sold.” Evie sank down again to go back to her food. Billy watched her roll a meatball around her plate like it was the most interesting thing in the room. 

   Mona Fenny struck Billy as a woman who always meant well. Frilly like a lace doily. So well, she steamrolled over you because she knew best. Evie barely got two syllables out before her mother was flicking her hair and boasting. A doll that constantly had the string in its voice box yanked.

   Billy learned a great deal about her.

   That Mona had been arrested twice in her life for marching and protesting. Civil and women’s rights. She joked that she hadn't been arrested for gay rights yet, but looked forward to the inevitable. She was a pageant queen too. Stopped when she found out she was pregnant and couldn’t compete after that. No bitterness there of course. She had a daughter to mold and complete the legacy now.

   Mona insisted on taking the plates away. Grabbing her own, Billy’s, and a side dish. 

   Evie was still rolling that meatball around until Billy plucked up a fork, stabbed it, and swallowed in one bite. She perked with flushed cheeks. Glared again.

   Billy wanted attention.

   “Your mom is friendly.” Statement of the fucking millennium.

   “Just wait til she busts out her old pageant scrapbooks. You'll never see home again.” Evie quickly flashed a smile and picked up her own plate to follow her mother off. Billy stood too, peered around. That cat had to be close. “Give it up.” Arms crossed when she leaned into the doorway working a melting ice cube around her mouth. Swallowed it whole instead of crunching. Water ran in the kitchen behind her.

   “We agreed on an hour of television.” Billy matched her stance, saw her hip cock.

   “Half hour.”

   “Hour.” Billy went in to sit on the couch like he owned it. Legs spread. “Come on in, the water’s fine, Evangeline.” Evie plucked up the remote, sat as far away from him as she could. Turned the TV on to something campy just to make him suffer.

   “Fucking Love Boat. Really? Susan watches this crap.”

   “You said the full hour.” Evie flashed a smug grin. “I think The Golden Girls is on too.”

   “Love Boat is fine.” Billy lifted his hand. Swiped the remote from her to set it on the other side of him. They both sunk in there. Eyes on the screen. Mona left them alone to bring the plate to their neighbor, stayed for conversation.

   Billy fidgeted. Stretching to scoot closer so he could nudge his knee into Evie's. Her face remained at total peace. She pushed back at his leg which drew slow smiles upon them both.

   “What kind of music do you really like, or does your mother always do all the talking?”

   “Doesn’t matter.” Evie felt him peer back over and held herself. A beat.

   “Yeah, your dreams. They don't matter." Came sarcasm. "A girl who wants her name in lights. Don't spend too much time feeling for the switch in darkness, Angel."

   "Why do you want to know?"

   "Just asking. You really want to sit in silence to this cheesefest? Young actresses paired with old ass grandpas playing love sick.” Billy put his arm up over the couch. Missed Evie twitch. Got his hand smacked for tugging her curl like a giddy little boy. 

   “I don’t know,” Evie faced him with a shrug, “somewhere in the rock and pop area. Maybe with a touch of soul. Not the hair metal I’m sure you’re into."

   How beautiful she looked when she hoped.

   "And my name in lights won't ever be enough, I need people to chant it too.”

   Lips curled at Evie.

   “Better than folk music.” Billy decided. Pride welled because she smiled too. Genuinely. Evie fiddled with her necklace. Delicate little music note caught the technicolor glow. Brown eyes turned to see him, she tried to bite the smile down. Failed.

   “So, what’s the deal with this party thing? A dance?”

   “One of many in the city. Bunch of high schools will probably run drunk through the streets with everyone else. No one will get carded because no one cares on New Years. Dancing and whatever. Watch the ball drop, it’s just the feral thing to do that night.”

   “And you could score with any girl, but you’re asking me. It won’t be like a date or anything.” Evie dropped the charm in her fingers to see Billy’s eyes linger.

   “You mentioned that. I know how to get out and have a good time without fucking. I have all sorts of tricks.” He noted the word didn’t make her wince. “Not looking to break your seal.”

   “You’re gross.” Again, no argument on the details of it.

   “You’re too tightly wound.” He paused, whispering. “Maybe not, but you hide it.”

   "Nothing to hide, I'm an open book."

   "A never ending record," Billy pushed into her so their legs pressed flush, "not nervous around me though."

   "Nope." Her lips popped, fingers curling into the hem of her dress when his arm snaked behind the couch. "Not nervous."

   "Not running either." That realization seemed to hit them both.

   "Why would I? I can handle you just fine." She hissed at that because it came out sexual. Billy licked his lips and snickered, shifting to face her head on.

   "Oh, I like the sound of that." He'd murmured, inches from her face. Evie found herself wondering how he managed to weasel his way in this close. Wondered why she was drinking him back in. "Picture this. You and this perfume enjoying a couple free drinks and some fireworks in the city. No strings attached. Not a date. Just those exploding lights and that chilly wind cooling your cheeks down, because you'll be blushing and you won't know it."

   "Uh huh. I guess I can see it." Evie sized him up and crossed her legs to lean back into him. "You and the roar of a Camaro commanding the city to its knees. Glam and hairspray working their magic."

   "I love an audience, Angel." Billy shook his head and froze because her palm came to his knee. Bold move. "But, I don't mind the front seat to see you blush too."

   "What about you?" She whispered with a hum. "What makes King Billy blush? Does all the noise you like to make hide it?" A spark flitted up her eyes. Made his chest heave. "Is that your secret?"

   "Come to the party, I'll tell you all my secrets." Fingers grazed up her arm when soft digits gave a rhythmic tap against his thigh. Billy went for it. "Do this dance with me."

   "You don't play as hard to get as you let on."

   "Not when I want something bad. Better to just play harder." Lips parted to hit that word. Her brows lifted at such an admittance. "You're sizzling up a fuse, aren't you, Evie?" She shook her head with a lazy smile. Eyes finding his again after. Near sultry.

   "You have to light a fuse first, Billy, for it to sizzle." Her hand crept along denim. Felt him go rigid and part his thighs just a little bit wider before she sat back. "And the fire's out anyway. I'll make good on the deal. If you win."

   "I hope you have a dress picked." Billy scoffed, breathless and still intent on her while she looked ahead at the screen.

   “Time is ticking. As if you taking me out will do me any good." Evie rolled her eyes and reclined back into his side. Quite comfortably like she wasn't thinking about it. "Give me cool points so Tommy and Carol leave me alone.”

   “They’re assholes to everyone. It’s not you.” Billy replied dismissively. Curled his finger into her locks behind the sofa.

   “You don’t notice who they target because you’re too busy chasing skirts and fighting others yourself. Also haven't seen the writing about me on the bathroom walls. School hierarchy rules. Open those pretty ocean eyes and see the world for what it is. You're untouched because of your front. Everyone wants to be Billy Hargrove or screw him.”

   Evie looked at him there, blinking.

   "What side of the line are you on?" He bit his lip. "I can guess."

   She plucked his hand from her shoulder and placed it back into his lap. Patted it for good measure.

   “So, you really think my eyes are pretty?” Billy laughed when a square pillow nailed him in the face. "You said it before too! When we were drunk and you still think it now that we're sober. Telling."

   Tension shattered. Evie glittered right back at him, teeth flashing. Still chuckling, he tilted his head back to create the magical sound. Quieted.

   “Fine. I’ll pay attention if it helps you sleep at night.”

   Evie blew air out her lips, let a curl fly up and bounce down. They watched the screen again. Shared a space. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so intimate. 

   “Episode’s almost over. Thanks for playing.” She about sang. Triumphant.

   “I guess you have me, Fenny.” Billy pushed up. “Mind if I take a leak?” He was already pacing off so she said nothing.

   Just watched couples go hand in hand into the sunset.

   There was a flush, the sink running, and then Billy’s huge smile crept back down the hallway. The boy was gone all of three minutes.

   Bourbon in his arms. Purring. Perfectly happy. Evie’s jaw dropped open.

   “Guess who crawled out of the shower to eyeball my junk? Not that I blame him.” Billy quipped, scratching the cat’s chin. Bourbon rubbed back into the touch. Rasped his scratchy meow for more.

   “Traitor...” Evie muttered, coming to her feet. “Damn it.”

   “Oh, yeah. You’re mine now, Evie. Seven o’clock. Wear something short if you like.” Billy’s lips were pressed up. Such an ass.

   "I call foul." Her finger lifted.

   "And I'll be calling on you. New Years Eve. Just an annoying dance. It'll be fun and free." His chin gestured at her. "Just say yes, Evie. Get out of this small town and see some lights for once. You want your name in them so bad, you gotta look at the damn things first. No day but today. Right?"

   "Right," a lengthy sigh, "but, the fire's still out. Bourbon, why? First, mom and now you. He's just hypnotizing you both.” Evie took the cat from Billy, watched his face scrunch.

   “Your cat is really named Bourbon?” He said flatter.

   “I found him when we visited family in New Orleans. Bourbon street.” She let the feline nuzzle into her chest.

   “God, Angel, I hope your lyrics are more creative than that.” Billy lightened, chest shaking as he peered away shaking his pretty head. “Well?”

   She pouted and if that cat wasn't between them, Billy didn't know what he would have done. Another time or place. Another pretty dress. Another shared beat of bleeding together.

   That itched him the rest of the night.

   “I’ll go. Seven. I’ll dress nice. It’s not a date, so don’t try anything and get me home in one piece. I reserve the right to leave you if you act like too much of an ass.” Evie grumbled some about it, defeated.

   But, she wondered about the lights and what it might be like to share them. Suppressed all urges that longed to hope.

   “That much I can do, I might even keep my ass in check. Don’t flake, we have a deal. I’ll be your Mr. Darcy or whatever.” Billy made for the door, plucking up his jacket as she opened it.

   “That’s an impossible standard, but keep dreaming.” Evie sighed out. Watched him turn to beam. Offered a pet to Bourbon. “Least you got his name right.”

   “Quick learner, I get points. New Years Eve. Don’t make me chase you, Evie, because I will.” Billy stepped off the porch lighting a cigarette, idly waved behind him.

   Game. Set. Match.

   “I’m not gonna be nice about it.” She called.

   “So, you’ll be your normal, cheery self with me. Great. Won't ask for anything else, we have a good thing going.” He turned to wink, curling a final smile. Evie stilled, petting her cat before sighing into the cold air. “See you then, Fenny.”

   “Whatever you say, Hargrove.” She shut the door as he climbed his own porch. Looked at her cat.

   “You did this to us, I hope you’re proud.” 

   Bourbon blinked. Another rumbling purr in response.

** ** **

   “The world...” Evie plucked an idle cord. Sang soft to not disturb her mother down the hallway sleeping. Nestled into the wall on her bed next to the window. “May think I’m foolish. They can’t see you like I can...”

   Darkness shrouded save for a small set of twinkling lights around her bed frame. Eyes kept averting to the clock.

   “Oh, but anyone...who...” 

   Another pause to see the clock. Eyes flickered out along the street marked with lamps. Cracking her window to see out. Nothing. Evie settled. Changed the tune to something original and plucked another heart string.

   “Those ocean eyes… Drowning me out. What I wouldn't give to...” Her palm caught the vibrating cord to snuff the sound. A groan as she set the guitar aside. “Shit.”

   That was not happening.  

   A car went down the street at the exact moment the clock struck eleven. Evie grabbed her coat and locked her bedroom door. Checked her hair and makeup before hitching one leg over the window. Felt the naughty thrill pulse into her heart as she snuck out.

   Billy peered to see beyond his own window near the foot of his bed. Unseen in the pitch black space. Thought about catching her. It was always a Saturday night. Evie Fenny crept out like clockwork. Wearing something nice under a jacket she held close. Sometimes with the guitar on her back. Lips painted red. Went down the street and returned as the sun rose. He’d observed it often. Sometimes it happened on school nights. Two to three times a week. Never asked because it didn’t seem important enough before. But, now…

   Billy knew a teen girl didn’t paint her lips red at eleven o’clock on a Saturday for just anyone.

   Evie hurried down the street toward the woods at the end. Got into a shiny car. Disappeared until sunrise.

~~~~~

Chat with me about Evie & Billy and the impending Skirt Safari Dance! Thanks!

TAGGED:@80sbxtch​ @nottherightseason​ @orxhidshavana​   @alagalaska​ @alongcamedolly​

[gotmilk5101520]

Miraculous Ladybug Rewatch Episode 59 Silencer

Within the sound of silence.

“You know I never have any ideas” This is how we all are right?

“I'll use the same plan that's made me the rich man I am today” Donald Trump.

“I'll use the same plan that's made me the rich man I am today”

“If you're short on great ideas, borrow someone else's“ And sadly that’s how the world works.

“They do realize that we can hear them right?”

“Hey uh can i join too?” “Sure thing Adrien!” “Thanks Luka- Wait. Change of plans. My father has already set up my schedule for the next two weeks” “It’s alright Adrien maybe next time” “Thanks Lu-” “Can we save the gayness for later?”

*Rock n Roll singing in French*

“There better be a good explanation“ “And if not then I'm taking mom’s gun” “Juleka, we’re not taking mom’s gun” “Why does your mom have a gun?” “In case Jagged Stone shows up” “Juleka, like i keep telling mom, Jagged Stone has no reason to come here. Why would he come here?”

“Luka, are you thinking what I'm thinking?” “Yes indeed Marinette” “We have someone pretend to be akumatized while we sneak in” “Wait that’s the plan?” “Yes! What were you thinking?” “Public Nudity” “Oh my god”

“I came up with the whole song in 5 minutes”

“In 5 minutes? He couldn't even sing it the way it's supposed to be sung. Maybe Juleka was right we should’ve brought mom’s gun” “No Luka”

“You flat out stole! You didn't design this mask!“ “Wait who are you?” “Luka!” “Oh you’re that guy from the video... He’s even hotter without the mask”

“If you do that, I'll tell them you're the copycats, not me. I've got all the music biz eating out of my hand“ Again sadly that’s how the world of music works.

“Ah. I'm detecting the echo of a very rare emotion”

“The anger of a creator whose work has been stolen. Who just so happens to be my pizza delivery man”

“Who also cannot bear to see the one he loves suffer“ *Cries in Lukanette*

“Fly away, my little akuma, and evilize this pure soul“ Okay so you’re telling me that Luka rarely gets mad? Then how is he getting akumatized in season 4?

“Yes please kiss me” “What?” “What?”

What he was going to say “Take off that stupid helmet so i can kiss you”

“Don't worry, Marinette. I would never hurt you“ “Are you really giving me the old talk to the hand?”

“You’re the most extraordinary girl, Marinette“ “Hold up hold up! Can you use your normal voice? It’s weird hearing from XY’s” “Oh okay” *Coughs in French* “Better?” “Better”

“You’re the most extraordinary girl, Marinette”

“Clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody“

“You’re the music that’s been playing inside my head since the day we first met“

“I won’t let anything happen to you“  *Cries in Lukanette again*

“Perhaps Luka feels the same way“ “Do you think!?” She sounds so happy.

Here he is the biggest douche of the universe. In all the galaxies there’s no bigger douche than you. You’ve reached the top the pinnacles of douchedom. Good going douche, your dreams have come true.

Boink.

“I wonder how everyone is doing with that contest. I would be playing with them, but my father won’t let me. I just want to play with Luka again... Okay maybe i should’ve phase that differently”

“Hey, that's not very nice!“ What did she say?

Boink 2

“Maybe I could imitate your voice?“ “No we’re doing Mister Bug and Lady Noire”

“Lucky Charm!”

“Lucky Charm!”

“Lucky Charm!”

“Lucky Charm!” Look at him.

“Uh... cat got your tongue?”

“A night at the opera?“ Chat Noir sucks at charade.

“What i wouldn’t give for another croissant” Adrien would agree.

“We could wait for Bob Roth to actually tell the truth. Cause to be honest  I'm rooting for Luka right now. Not cause he’s hot, but he also has a point” “You know what? You’re right”

You guys really need to stop falling for these fake outs.

“And what's with this fake Lucky Charm? I thought it was supposed to be magic or something, but it's actually just some crafty special effects”

“Time to shut up”

Ladybug’s tail kink part 4

“Oh yes press harder” “What?” “What?”

“It feels good to be top”

Got what he deserves.

“What did you think, kid? That I was going to tell everybody the truth?”

“That I stole Kitty Section's song and your girlfriend's costumes, so I could give them to my talentless son?” “Gee now i feel bad for XY. Having such a shitty dad” “Wait you feel mad for me?” “Don’t get the wrong idea”

Exposed live.

“See you soon, my kitty”

“I love when she calls me that” *Screams in Ladynoir*

“Luka?”

“Did you really mean those things you said when you were akumatized?”

“I'm sorry, Marinette, but I don't remember. What did I say?”

“Uh, oh, nothing. It was nothing at all. You were possessed by Hawkmoth's akuma”

“I don't know what I possibly could've said. I just hope it wasn't anything mean. Did i say about how i pooped my pants when i was 7?” “Uh no” “Is it that i almost drowned when i was 11?″ “No it wasn’t” “Wait  did i say how i want to have a foursome with you Adrien and Kagami?” “No. Wait what?” “Nothing”

“Because you're the most extraordinary girl, Marinette”

“As clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody”

“You’re the music that’s been playing inside my head since the first day we met”

*More Cries in Lukanette*

Why can’t i find a guy like Luka?

And really? Oni-Chan? You guys better not be getting the wrong idea.

[ueslangeais]

the drowning cats ft maryel epps - the music reaches everybody (nerio's dubwork remix) 

[2jaeh]

Cigarette - csy

[ cigarette - offonoff prompt #16 ]

- Seungyoun is in a troubled relationship until he meets his neighbor who is willing to bring back a part of himself. -

 ANGST ; FLUFF

I would I would be your light and I would I would shine you brighter Oh I wish I be your last Smoke up a glimpse of heaven

You heard  a crash for the third time on this summer night, your neighbors slipping into their usual arguments. Groaning, you turned up the volume on your earphones and tried to continue sketching the vase of flowers you had been working on for hours now.

Every night since you had moved into this apartment block a few months ago, your neighbors would be quarreling over God knows what. They were a young couple who you'd seen only once when you were taking the trash out one night.

You remember the look on both of their faces when you stepped outside. It seemed that they were in the middle of another argument but the disheveled guy sent you a sweet smile while his girlfriend scowled and pulled him back into the apartment building.

You wondered why were they together if all they ever did was fight. How could you end up hating someone you once fell in love with ?

Shaking your head you returned back to your sketch and nodded your head to the beat, finally feeling a sense of comfort when your favorite artist sang out his sweet words.

"Get out!" You heard her scream followed by their balcony door sliding open and slammed shut.

You were not one for meddling in other people's business, but you felt an urgency to check if whoever was out there was okay, and not planning to do anything risky.

Slipping your phone into your back pocket you made your way to your balcony and sure enough your neighbor was there, leaning over the railing exhaling the smoke from his cigarette.

His black hair fell over his face as he took another drag from his cigarette and stretched his arms above his head, exposing a tattooed gun on his side.

"Uhm is everything okay ?" You managed to say unsure if it was loud enough for him to hear.

He turned to face you and the similar smile he had given you before graced his face despite his tired eyes.

"Im sorry about that, you weren't sleeping were you ?" He scratched the back of his head.

"I was drawing actually and I got a bit afraid when I heard someone come out to the balcony" you chuckled shyly.

He took another pull of his cigarette and flicked it over the railing.

"H-hey that's dangerous" Your eyes widened and peered over the railing hoping nobody was walking around at this time.

The boy chuckled and raised his hands in defense.

"It's a force of habit and my mind is not all that together right now"

"If a stray cat eats it I hope you know it's all your fault"

"whoa that got deep" He giggled and held out his hand, " Im Cho Seungyoun."

You took his hand in yours and his cold slender fingers caressed yours, making you pull away and immediately felt flustered.

"Oh im y/n" You pressed your lips together and stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket.

Seungyoun stared at you, studying your reaction to him before you both heard a noise emitting from his apartment.

"I have to go. Sorry about the noise it was nice meeting you" he nodded as the bright smile disappeared from his face and retreated into his apartment.

You had no idea why you sympathized with him not knowing their story, not knowing how he probably had a different persona which was now hidden by the ups and downs of a toxic relationship.

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

Seungyoun sat in the campus studio wrapping up his segment on their fairly popular radio show. Even though he had his notes  and handled the show pretty well, it was evident that his mind was elsewhere.

He thought back to the little exchange that happened on his balcony just over two weeks ago.   It was brief, but he had not felt a sense of calmness like that in a long time. The way she freaked out about the cigarette bud or the fact that she was worried about the severity of his fight that she checked up on him without even knowing who he was.

"okay everybody this last one's called Breathe by Lauv, not sure why it's been stuck in my head all day but I think it's a good track to kick off the weekend" he spoke into the mic, switching on the song and began packing up.

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

You removed your earphones and frowned as you heard a now familiar voice blare out of the lecture room speakers and one of your favorite songs filled the entire room.

'did he hear the music coming from my apartment ?' you furrowed your brows and slumped into your chair. For the past week in order to get you through a project you played your music out loud in order to drown out the neighbors and get yourself focused.

You shook your head getting rid of any speculations involving Seungyoun knowing he obviously had his plate full with his own issues to even bother about someone he had met for a few minutes one night.

You plugged in your earphones and made your way downtown to meet a friend at your favorite indie street.

"Yohan!" You waved as the tall dark haired boy handed you an iced latte.

"record store ?" Yohan pointed over to one of your frequent spots and you nodded happily as the two of you made your way over.

The record store was fairly empty as usual so the owner allowed you to play whatever you liked on the jukebox while you browsed through the store.

You chose an upbeat song by Hyukoh and danced around crazily with Yohan as you two discussed the humorous covers of early 80s albums.

The doorbell of the store snapped the two of you out of your teasing session and you realized Seungyoun had walked through the front door.

"Hey y/n" he smiled sweetly surprised to find you in one of his frequent spots and approached the two of you. He looked so much better up close and relaxed. You could finally see life in his eyes as he grinned from ear to ear and you had to admit that it made you happy that he was happy.

"Oh hey Seungyoun, I didn't know you visited this area" You replied as Yohan cleared his throat next to you, making it known that he felt left out.

"This is my friend Yohan and Yohan this is my neighbor Seungyoun" you added.

"The noisy one ?" Yohan asked and you responded by nudging him in his side

"ow!" he whined before catching the hint.  

"Yes Im the noisy neighbor" Seungyoun sighed his eyes drifting to yours and bit down on his lip

"Do you want to hang out ? I kinda owe you for being the only one to check up on me."

You looked up at Yohan who you know was more than happy to leave you since he was probably going on a date later on.

"Yes you may take the annoying one out, I have stuff to do" Yohan teased and ruffled your hair before making his way out of the store.

You muttered a curse word under your breath and neatened your hair when you suddenly felt another hand moving the strands away from your face. Seungyoun pulled his hand away when he realized his actions had startled you both and gestured for you to lead the way out of the store.

He had no idea why he did that. He didn't know how to act around her. Why was he intrigued ? Why was he comfortable around a stranger ?

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

The two of you talked about your majors and you learned that Seungyoun was studying music which was a job you always admired. Even though you had a passion for music your love for art overpowered and since you happened to have a talent in it,  it was the one that stuck.

Once you reached your apartment block you noticed Seungyoun go quiet for a while and you assumed this was now the end of your session with him.

"Do you want to hang out at my place ? I can order us food" He finally said facing you. His eyes were eager and although he knew how bold the question was, he was hoping for a positive outcome.

"Will your girlfriend be okay with it ?" You said in a low voice.

"We parted ways a few days ago and this is my apartment, so she doesn't really have anything here" He explained as the distasteful emotions began making its way back.

"Well sure we can hang" You smiled brightly and watched as his eyes lit up like a kid.

Seungyoun led you into his apartment and you marveled at the stack of records he had laying around as well as interesting album art he had up on his walls. It seemed warm and inviting, unlike the arguments that bounced off its frame every night.

Seungyoun cleared a spot on the floor in front of the coffee table and brought over a bottle of soju and two shot glasses.

"I'll order fried chicken is that okay ?" he quirked his brow taking a seat and opened up the delivery app.

"Chicken sounds good" you gave him a thumbs up as he chuckled at your corny gesture and placed the order.

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

Time became non existent as Seungyoun listened carefully to you explaining the meanings behind the artwork of his favorite albums. He paid attention to the details, making sure to ask questions in order to see the passion that radiated from your eyes as you spoke. It made him feel as if you two were meant to cross paths.

That night you had come to the rescue he was in debate on whether he should pack up his life here and just move to another city. It will fix everything he thought. Him and Yuna can start fresh and maybe rekindle whatever was left of their sour relationship.

But for once he felt as if his home was actually his home. It felt warm and sentimental. It didn't remind him about the endless fights about him quitting his music to get a real job, or to be like the next perfect guy Yuna had met at med school - it reminded him of himself and it will now remind him of you.

"Thank you y/n" He whispered, throwing his head back on the couch and closed his eyes.

"for ?" You quizzed, watching a small grin spread across his face.

"Just allowing me to be myself again"

"I want to thank you too" You sighed and mimicked his position.

"me ?" he frowned and looked over in confusion.

"Yeah well nobody really listens to me or lets me talk about what im actually interested in so this was really refreshing for me, so thank you Seungyoun" You mused and nudged him playfully.

The two of you basked in each others company in silence not needing a conversation in order to feel comfortable until you fell asleep - probably the most blissful sleep both of you had in months.

[junie-bugg]

Prospects and Propriety - Chapter Two

Summary: Everlark Jane Austen AU

Katniss Everdeen and her younger sister Prim are the adopted daughters of Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, a wealthy man with no biological heirs. By the rules of Panem society, an older sibling must be married before the younger can wed. In a time when women have no means of making their own living, marriage is the only way for Katniss to save her sister from destitution and set her up for a happy marriage of her own. Katniss sets her sights on Mr. Gale Hawthorne, a wealthy man who just moved to Whitley and who seems to have his eye on her. But what of the poor baker’s boy who once took a beating to save her life?

Read here on Tumblr or on my AO3 account: izzacrosswriting

Warning: I do plan on this series getting a lil smutty. There will be graphic depictions of violence, sex, and possibly death. I’m still working everything out:)

Nature ambiance(s):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ9uyQI3pF0&t=1694s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUjUhZ1Yy7Y

Music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQbx-OkfN-M

(If you want to listen to this song on Spotify it's called Symphony No.5 in C Sharp Minor: 4. Adagietto (Sehr Iangsam))

Word Count: 3125

Chapter Two

Prim and I have the next day off of lessons. We’ve been homeschooled ever since we came to live with Haymitch, but the weekends are saved purely for whatever we see fit to fill them with. For me, that’s mostly hunting and being out in the woods, unless the weather is bad, and sometimes not even then. 

If I decide to stay at home I usually lounge around with a book and see what Prim is up to. It’s mostly knitting, dress-up, or playing with the ugly cat Haymitch let her keep a few years back. Prim named him Buttercup, claiming that his matted, ruddy coat matched the bright yellow of the flowers she so adored. I had wanted to drown the thing in a bucket when we caught him stealing scraps from the kitchen, but Haymitch had laughed, even picked the thing up by the scruff of his neck and shook him around. 

“Look at this little guy, sweetheart. He’s a survivor. We can’t kill him!” He had placed the dirty, mewling kitten into Prim’s arms and the thing had hissed at me. I was worried he’d give Prim some kind of disease but he never did. I don’t feel gratitude towards him though. Only suspicion. It could still happen. 

When I want to be alone I go to my greenhouse. Really it’s Prim’s and my greenhouse, but ever since she found maggots in the compost pile nearly two years ago, she hasn’t stepped foot in there.  The greenhouse is small, maybe a third the size of my bedroom, but it’s peaceful. Especially when it storms and I can hear every hollow beat of the raindrops on its glass roof. It’s situated on the edge of the grounds by the tree line that morphs into the large forested hill behind Victor Greene, Haymitch’s estate. Over the years I’ve planted herbs and flowers and medicinal plants I’ve found on my journeys into the woods. The plants do well here in the rows of dark soil I’ve fortified with compost and fertilizer. The whole place smells of earthy rot and there’s something about how sunlight scatters lazily through the frosted windows that calms me. There’s a nook on the far side of the greenhouse, past all the plants, where I’ve scattered some quilts and pillows on a wide triangular window ledge. It’s a perfect place to read or sleep. Or sing. 

This is the only place where I let myself sing. I don’t even do it in the woods, always afraid someone else taking a stroll will hear me or that I’ll scare away game. Ever since Prim and I were placed under Haymitch’s care, really ever since our dad died, I refuse to sing in front of others. Maybe it’s because I’m shy and I don’t like people listening to my voice swelling and breaking on the high notes. Or maybe I’m lying to myself and I don’t sing in front of others because it’s too painful to remember a time when my life was filled with music. Mountain aires and lullabies and love songs, all sung by my father. I guess I don’t like breaking apart when there’s an audience. But when I’m alone I can shatter beneath the notes for a time, before I’m needed back up at the house. 

Today, however, instead of knitting or playing hide and seek in the gardens, Prim has informed me she wants to walk to the village. “You need new ribbons for the ball!” She squeaks as I button up her light pink dress from behind. We have servants available who help us dress or bathe or brush our hair but I always like helping Prim myself. She looks like a tiny little princess with her frilly dress and her curls pulled back with a pearl white ribbon. In contrast, I look plain in a forest green frock and my light brown shawl. 

“I told you, Prim. I’m not going.” I struggle with the last button. Prim has been going through a growth spurt and soon she’ll be too big for this dress. I feel sad, watching my little sister growing up so fast. 

“I heard Mrs. Winthrop and Ms. Trinket talking and they said you had to go,” She’s grinning so hard I can see the slight gap between her two front teeth. “Because Mr. Hawthorne is going to be there.” 

Ah, yes. My supposed husband-to-be. So even Prim has heard about Ms. Trinkets’ ridiculous arrangements. A man with that much money has his pick of the litter when it comes to choosing brides. I’m not ugly, but I’m no exquisite beauty either. Not like some of the girls I see around Whitley. I have no fortune of my own, really no status either besides being Haymitch’s ward and that will go up in smoke the second he dies. Most likely Mr. Hawthorne will look right through me and move on. But the news that I’m being forced to attend the public ball worries me. The whole village will be there. Including him. The baker’s boy. 

Maybe some new ribbons aren’t such a bad idea. 

We turn down an offer for the carriage and instead walk along the main road into Whitley. My boots have barely brushed the cobblestone sidewalks when Prim is dragging me into the seamstresses’ shop. The dressmaker, Cinna Ludgate, and the tailor, I think her name is Portia Peever, both turn to welcome us. Prim tells Mr. Ludgate about my need for new ribbons and in a flash he pulls down the display from the ceiling, winking at me as he walks back to the counter. 

There are so many to choose from. Streams of all colors flutter between my outstretched fingertips like butterfly’s wings. I see ribbons of frilly lace, satin, velvet, and even silk. My eyes land on a simple, white cloth ribbon with a delicate embroidered lavender pattern. I hold it up for Prim’s inspection and she declares I have to buy two in case I manage to get one dirty before the ball. 

I’ve just handed Mrs. Peever the money for the ribbons when the bell over the door rings. In walks Ms. Delly Cartright, one of Prim’s closest friends, and her older sister, Ms. Marianne Cartright. Their father is the village shoemaker, so they’re well known and well-liked by almost everybody. Delly is Prim’s age which gives them plenty to talk about. Prim grabs a hold of Delly and begins showing her the latest shipment of buttons Mr. Ludgate has displayed. 

Marianne is one year younger than me but we’ve never exchanged more than simple pleasantries. I dread small talk but from my personal experience, a trip into town wouldn’t be deemed official without at least one awkward encounter. 

“Are you coming to the ball, Ms. Everdeen? You missed the last one,” Marianne asks. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with big, blue doe eyes and a pouty mouth. Her nose is small and her figure slender. She is what they call a “country belle” in Town. I know at least five love songs written about girls like her. I expect in a few years Prim will grow to be one herself. 

“The dancing was splendid. I do hope you’re coming next week,” She continues.

I hold up my ribbons in response. “My tutor Ms. Trinket won’t let me miss it.” I force my mouth into a smile. 

“Oh,” Marianne’s eyes have settled on my ribbons. They’re probably a tad dull for her taste seeing as there were velvets and silks to choose from, but I like the simple flower design. The white cloth paired with the purple and green thread looks pretty. “Well, as my darling mother always says: simple never goes out of style.” She smiles up at me but the warmth doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “My sister and I are here for my dress fitting. I can’t wait to show everyone what Mr. Ludgate made me for the ball. It’s a custom piece!” She practically squeals. I nod and bid her goodbye, waving Prim over so we can leave. I breathe a sigh of relief as we exit the shop. I hate girl talk. 

With our main objective for coming to Whitley carried out, my feet automatically turn towards home, but Prim has other ideas. “Can we look at the cakes, Katniss?” She begs. She’s like a little puppy. I can’t refuse, though I grow more anxious with every step closer to the bakery we get. 

I know what this is. A look at the cakes in the window leads to Prim asking to go inside. It’s happened before and I’ve been lucky enough to avoid him. He works alongside his parents and two older brothers anyway. What are the chances that he’ll be manning the counter and not the ovens in the back? 

Prim pulls me through the bakery doors and runs to press her face against the display case. I hear a call of “I’ll be right there!” from the back, followed by a grunt and the shuffling of boxes. I join Prim and am just starting to admire the selection of pastries when I hear a quiet gasp and look up. 

It's him. The baker’s youngest son. I don't know him by name but I remember him. Of course, I remember him. I can almost feel the icy sheets of rain and the hollow numbness of hunger from that horrible day as I meet his gaze. 

Our father had died three months earlier. He had been a poor wheat farmer but the income from the harvest was enough to support a small household. My mother traded plants and home remedies to supplement what our empty pockets couldn’t buy. One winter, my father had been kicked in the head by his horse. My mother did everything she could but even as young as I was, I knew he had died before he hit the ground. After that my mother stopped eating. She just sat in bed and stared at the walls while her children turned to skin and bone. I did everything to try and rouse her but it was no use. With our father dead so too was her will to live. 

At eleven I became the sole provider of the family. I ventured into town alone to sell that damn horse, some old jewelry, and even dresses of my mother’s from her merchant days, but the money ran out quickly and there was more to buy than food. Our hearth sat cold, unused, and wanting of wood, and we resorted to rubbing ourselves raw to keep warm. We stopped attending school in the village, afraid that a teacher would see how hollow we were becoming and would whisk us away to the orphanage. I had seen orphans in the schoolyard, their faces empty and their shoulders slumped in defeat. I would never let that happen to Prim. 

We had eaten nothing but dried mint leaves in water for three days before I decided to try selling some of Prim’s old baby clothes in town. The clothes were threadbare and faded so nobody had wanted them. My arms were shaking so violently from cold and malnourishment that I ended up dropping them in a puddle. I decided to leave them there, afraid that if I bent over I wouldn’t be able to get back up. 

I found myself stumbling around behind a row of brick buildings. The rain had started and I was soaked to the bone. The smell of baking bread carried over the frigid air and I realized I was behind the bakery. The back door was open and I stood, trancelike, basking in the warm glow of the ovens before a thought floated through my foggy head. Maybe they had food scraps in their trash. A crust of bread or rotting vegetables, something only my family was desperate enough to eat. I lifted the tops off of the bins and my hopes died when I saw that their insides were heartbreakingly bare. 

Suddenly, I heard a woman screeching. It was the baker’s wife. She spat remarks about how she was sick of people going through her trash bins and if I didn’t leave she would call law enforcement. As I dropped the lids and backed away I saw a boy peeking out from behind his mother’s skirts. I recognized him from school but we had never talked. 

With my final hope gone I slumped against a scrubby little apple tree in their yard. My knees buckled and I slipped down into the mud. I would rather die than go home empty-handed to Prim’s gaunt face and my mother’s sickly, unblinking eyes. 

I heard a commotion from the bakery and then the ring of metal on flesh. 

“Feed it to the pigs you worthless creature! No one decent will buy burnt bread!” The witch screeched. There was the boy again, come out the back door clutching two blackened loaves. A bright red mark shone on his cheek and my heart twisted when I realized his mother must have hit him. He looked between me and the pigpen, and then glanced back towards the door. His mother must have gone up to front to serve a customer because then I heard him sloshing his way through puddles to get to me. 

“Take them!” He urged, pressing the loaves into my skeletal hands. “Take them! Go!” As quickly as he came he was gone, back into the kitchens. I watched him disappear. As he closed the door only then did I realize what he had done for me. 

Two loaves of bread! And they weren’t even that burned, really only the crusts had been damaged. I quickly pressed them to the skin under my shirt and hurried home. The searing heat from the loaves roused something within me. I couldn’t die. Not when I had Prim to take care of.

I dropped the loaves on the table and stopped my sister from savagely tearing a chunk off for herself. I sat her down, forced our mother to join us, and then began scraping off the blackened bits. That night we feasted on two slices of bread each, afraid so much food might make us sick. The loaves were hearty, filled with nuts and bits of cranberry. I had never tasted anything so good in my entire life. 

 As I predicted, it was a teacher that found out about our situation. Upon our absence at school, she had come looking for us and found Prim and I living in squalor with a mother that was too sick to care. I thought that was it, that we were to be sent to the orphanage now and our mother taken away to an institution. But a man by the name of Haymitch Abernathy, wealthy and lacking a family of his own, intervened. He had heard of our misfortunes from hushed gossip around the village and had petitioned to adopt us. Our mother was eventually sent to an institution by the sea and we’ve lived with Haymitch, fed and clothed and taken care of, ever since. 

The baker’s boy saved our lives that day. Surely I would have given up and died under that apple tree if it wasn’t for the kindness he showed me. I owe him everything. And because of that, I will never be able to pay him back. 

I take him in now. He's taller than he was before. Much taller. His chubby child’s build has been replaced with an imposing stature that takes up almost the entire doorway. I guess a lifetime of hefting bakery pans and kneading dough has left him broad-shouldered and muscular. 

“Katniss,” he says. I can tell he’s surprised to see me. His voice is deep and I note that his blonde hair curls with sweat. There’s a streak of flour on his cheek and an apron tied around his waist.

“It’s Ms. Everdeen,” I correct him. It’s out before I can stop myself and as soon as I say it I want to bite my own tongue off. How pretentious I must sound. It's only after Prim has begun ordering a sugar-dusted fruit tart from the case that I realize with a start that the baker's boy knows my name. 

His face is flushed and pink when he turns his eyes to me. 

“I'll take four of those cookies,” I get out. “The orange lilies.” My voice sounds weaker than normal. I hate this. I feel fragile under this boy’s gaze. And that's when I realize: he must be waiting for his thank you. For the bread that he burned and took a beating for. But I can't do it, either because Prim is with me and it would confuse her and probably embarrass the boy, or because it's been five years and the time for ‘thank you’ is over. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he doesn't remember. He probably only knows my name because it was a source of gossip around town when Haymitch adopted Prim and I. He must remember me from then. 

He gives me a timid smile, deftly wraps the cookies in parchment paper, ties them securely with a piece of fringed twine, and hands the package to me. I suddenly feel the need to fill the silence so I blurt: “They’re beautiful. The cookies.” 

He manages to turn a shade pinker. “Thank you, I do most of the frosting around here. I made those this morning.” As I hand him the money for the treats, I assume that's it. That was the end of our conversation. But my tongue is moving again. 

“They look just like the lilies in the woods. I see them on my morning walks.” 

“Yes, exactly,” He grins and reveals a charming set of dimples. “I’ve seen them when I go to the woods to paint.” 

I don't know what else to say and Prim has started tugging on my hand. She’s probably anxious to get home so we can enjoy our treats with tea, so I give him one last look and utter one last thank you before heading back out into the crowded square. 

“Do you know him?” Prim asks as we begin walking towards home. 

“No,” I say, a little relieved to be leaving. I can't catch my breath and my heart is racing like it does when something frightens me. “I don't even know his name.”

“Well, I've never seen you be that talkative with a stranger.” She beams. “Wait until I tell Mrs. Winthrop!” 

Is that what he is to me? A stranger? I shake the thought from my head.

He knew my name. The very least I can do is learn his. 

[auroreswritings]

Aaaaaaaand here comes the last entry for the Dazatsu Halloween event! It’s a little late because life, and stuff, you know, but it’s finally done! Hope you like it, it’s a light piece to finish the week on a cute note! (Can you tell I’m a big scaredy-cat and just CANNOT DEAL with horror stuff? haha)

I would like to thank the mods who made this event possible, Cherish, Datura and Mango, thank you soooo much, I had so much fun writing all these stories! It got me out of my writing comfoort zone and made me explore genres or themes I probably wouldn’t have explored on my own. Thank you!!

Now that I’m done, I’ll be reading through all the other works submitted and enjoy eveyone’s hard work!

Find this on A03.

Demon in the Dark

              The Armed Detective Agency was as busy as ever, but for once, the detectives were not drowning in paperwork. Halloween was approaching and they had decided to host a costume party. All the staff was invited of course, as well as notable clients and other officials who had worked with the agency before. The office had been entirely decorated for the occasion, ghosts and bats hanging here and there, pumpkins and spiders adorning desks and walls; even a bloody trail had been drawn on the floor of the corridor, leading the way from the elevator to the office’s door. As evening was approaching, the detectives were making sure it was all perfect, dusting a shelf here and there or adjusting a decoration on a desk. Food and drinks would be served at the arrival of the first guests. They had spent the day cooking and baking, preparing all sorts of savory and sweet appetizers and cookies: pumpkin tarts, tiny spider-shaped rice balls, cupcakes topped with orange or white buttercream, cinnamon-flavored ghost cookies and other deliciously evil dishes were patiently waiting to be eaten. Several cocktails, with and without alcohol, had been mixed up, ready to be served in massive punch bowls. Some even had lychees filled with cherries floating in them, mimicking a soup made of eyes floating in blood.

              All the detectives had dressed up with their best costumes: Kunikida had put extra care in his vampire costume, even bringing a huge coffin to the office, Kyouka was posing as a puppet master, walking around with a stuffed rabbit wearing a dress similar to hers, Rampo was dressed as a witch, massive bag of candies attached to his broom, the Tanizaki siblings were impersonating the monster of Frankenstein and its wife, Yosano was a spider queen, black dress gracefully undulating around her, Kenji had a forest spirit costume on, with moss and leaves hanging from his little antlers, Dazai was wearing the long cape of a reaper and swinging around a giant scythe, and Atsushi had become a mummy, bandages usually reserved for Dazai now dangling around him, sometimes dangerously getting caught around his feet. Even Fukuzawa had dressed up, impersonating what looked like a vampire hunter, having traded his usual kimono for a more Western-looking outfit.

              The first guests arrived with nightfall, and soon the office was filled with animated conversations, loud laughter and the sound of clinging glasses. Music was playing in the background, keeping all the costumed guests entertained. Candles had been put around, giving the room a somehow mystic atmosphere despite the electric lights shining above heads. Most of the detectives were delighting the guests with conversations of past cases. Most of them, because Atsushi was just awkwardly standing in a corner, not really sure how to approach the important people filling up the room. As he was new to the agency, he didn’t have much to talk about and was a little intimidated by the fantastic stories his colleagues were narrating. Kenji, who had noticed him from the buffet, approached him with a sweet smile.

              “-Atsushi, why are you alone here? You should go and talk to people, it will be fun!

              -But I don’t know what to tell them!

              -Don’t worry about it. You can just join in one of the others’ conversations, I’m sure you will find some interesting things to say!” The teenager tried to reassure him, pointing to a small crowd that had gathered around Dazai.

              Taking the hint, Atsushi left his corner and walked to his mentor, who was extravagantly retelling their last investigation, clearly including exaggerated details here and there. His scythe was only adding to the dramatic effects in his storytelling. The people around him were holding their breath, hanging to his every words, relishing in the nerve wrecking stories. Atsushi blended in the group, amused by Dazai’s manners. The older man’s gaze fell on him, and with a wide flailing of his arms, he wrapped himself around the tiger, continuing his story.

            “-Atsushi! This young kid, here! He was so brave! Oh, you should have seen it, my belladonna!” he reached for one of the women’s hand, who blushed and giggled at the gesture, “He ran to the villain head on, not caring for anything else but MY LIFE, and tackled him to the floor, restraining his moves so he couldn’t touch me anymore. I wouldn’t be here to tell this story if it wasn’t for him!” He rubbed his knuckles against the weretiger’s head, ruffling his hair playfully.

             The young man didn’t remember any of these things but he smiled as people were praising him, humbly accepting the kind words. Dazai kept with his tale, sometimes coaxing Atsushi into agreeing to a weird detail here and there, although most of them were obvious lies. The tiger was slowly getting more comfortable with the crowd, easing up into his own conversations. Dazai was glancing at him from time to time, happy to see his junior gaining confidence.

              Suddenly, the lights flickered a couple times. A few people around the room joked about a ghost or spirit roaming the building, others were laughing nervously. Atsushi looked around, a little anxious. Nothing happened in the following minutes, and everybody went back to what they were doing. The tiger, still tensed, engaged in a conversation with a client he had met a few months back. After about ten minutes however, the lights turned off completely. The only light left was the ominous glow of the candles casting long shadows against the walls. Silence had fallen around the room, people not daring to make too much noise. A few nervous whispers were running around the crowd.

              “-I will check the electricity panel, everyone stay put!” Kunikida’s voice flew up from a corner of the office, and soon he passed through the crowd with a candle in his hand, walking out the find the source of the problem.

              Atsushi could feel his nervousness grow. As much as he liked Halloween and other spooky things, it still made him a little jittery to think about ghosts and haunting spirits. He suddenly felt a cold breeze blowing against his neck. A high pitched shriek escaped him before he could stop it.

              “-Aren’t you a little jumpy, my dear Atsushi?” Dazai voice was whispering right in his ear; the weretiger could sense the mocking smirk gracing the man’s face.

              “-D-D-Dazai! That’s not funny!” Atsushi rubbed his neck, trying to erase the uncomfortable feeling creeping up his skin.

              “-But I find it extremely amusing.” His voice was teasing, tone a little darker than usual.

              Atsushi’s body stiffed at the words. Dazai was up to something, and he was going to be his victim, he was sure of it. Just as the thought crossed his mind, he felt the man’s hands on his shoulders, making him jump a little. Dazai’s fingers were trailing up to Atsushi’s throat, tugging at the bandages. As he was about to rebuke his mentor, the lights turned on again, blinding everybody around. The weight of Dazai’s hands lifted from his shoulders, and he clearly heard a frustrated sight behind him. Turning around, he saw his mentor running towards the tall blond who was entering the office again.

              “-Kunikida! You saved us! I was so scared; I thought a demon was going to attack me in the dark!

              -Shut it, Dazai!”

              Atsushi couldn’t help but scoff at the remark. A demon in the dark, he was one to talk! The party went back in full swing. The tiger tried to forget about Dazai and immersed himself in the festive atmosphere again, enjoying the food and entertaining the guests.

              Eventually, as night progressed, the office emptied out, people returning home after having enjoyed the thrilling stories and filled their bellies to the brim. Soon enough, only the detectives were left, a little drained from all the socializing. Kenji and Kyouka had fallen asleep on the sofa, Rampo was sprawling on a chair, rubbing his candy-filled stomach. The siblings had just left and Kunikida was already clearing up his desk, while Yosano and Fukuzawa were putting the remaining food and drinks away in the fridge. Dazai was sitting at his desk, lost in thoughts and Atsushi was nibbling on one of the last cookies he had found. Everybody had fun and clients and officials had assured they would ask for the agency’s services in the future when needed. It had been a successful night.

              The detectives eventually left the building, leaving Atsushi to close everything. He had stayed behind to swipe the floor a little; they would have a big cleaning day tomorrow, but he had still wanted to get most of the crumbs away before leaving to avoid having any crawling visitors during the night. After he was done with his broom, he checked around the office one last time to make sure no food had been left behind and turned the lights off. As he was about to close the door, a strange noise made his whole body tense. All his senses were alert. A soft scratching sound was resonating through the corridor, as though mice were digging their way through a wall. Atsushi tried to ignore it and closed the office entrance. He put the key in its hole and as he turned it, the sound intensified, getting closer to him. Loud steps were now resonating through the hall as well. Atsushi took a step away from the door as silently as possible. His heart was beating uncontrollably, filling his ears with its frantic pumping. He raised a hand to his chest, clutching the bandages of his costume, hoping whatever was in the room wouldn’t hear the fear inside of him. A small whisper suddenly echoed:

              “-Atsushi! I know what you’ve done!” The tiger jumped at the sound. What had he done? His heart started pumping faster, his breathing getting shallower. He tried to reach the elevator, the only light helping him the faint one of the emergency exit sign. The scratching intensified, and the voice started again:

              “-Atsushiiiiii! I know what happened! You will be punished for your wrong doing!” Fear made Atsushi’s legs a little wobbly, and as he tried to step back some more, his feet got caught in one of the dangling bandages and he fell back to the floor. He let out a small cry, pain and panic mixing together in his voice. He crawled back a little but was soon stopped by something pulling at the bandages around his legs. The voice, louder than earlier, rose through the air once more, sending horrible shivers down Atsushi’s spine:

              “-Atsushi! You have abandoned me! You will pay for this!” The poor man’s mind was filling up with incoherent thoughts, trying to understand what was happening.

              He tried to crawl back again but his legs were still stuck. Was he going to die here tonight? As the dreadful thought took over his mind, the lights went on, revealing the tall silhouette of the Reaper standing in front of him, large scythe glistening under the electric light. A loud scream escaped Atsushi’s lips. This was it, this was the end. A sudden clear, happy laugh filled the corridor, stunning Atsushi for a second. The Reaper took its hoodie off, revealing a cackling Dazai, tears almost running from his eyes. Realization soon hit the weretiger and he tried to get up without success, bandages still stuck under his mentor’s feet.

              “-Dazai! Stop it already, this is not funny! I was so scared!” The man moved away from him, freeing his legs, but kept on laughing, unable to stop himself.

              “-A-A-Atsushi! You should have seen yo-your face!” he managed to let out between giggles.

              The younger man huffed, his heart and breathing slowly coming back to normal. Now that fear had washed out of him, he was slowly getting pissed. He couldn’t believe Dazai had played such a trick on him. He knew the man had something planned, but still, this was actually pretty mean. Atsushi gave an annoyed look to his mentor and turned around, deciding to take the stairs instead of the elevator. As he stomped down, he heard Dazai call his name. He didn’t stop until he reached the door downstairs. Running steps were coming towards him.

              “-Atsushi, wait!” Dazai quickly reached him and stopped him from opening the front door. “I probably shouldn’t have gone all out like this, but you’re so cute when you’re scared. It’s Halloween after all, I just wanted to mess with you a little.

              -I know, Dazai, but still, that was mean! I can’t believe you waited for me just pull this out!” Atsushi turned around to face him, accusing look in his eyes.

              “-Actually, I didn’t really wait for you, you almost locked me in the building.” A smirk appeared on his face.

              “-Wait, is that what you meant by ‘abandoning you’? Seriously…” Atsushi let out an exasperated sigh, hints of a smile tugging at his lips. He couldn’t remember seeing Dazai leave but hadn’t seen him in a while so he obviously concluded the man had left and was going to close the front door without checking the toilets or anything, which would have successfully locked the man in for the night. He looked up at Dazai, his mischievous look infecting him right away and making him smile back.

              “-Okay, maybe I deserved a little scolding. But all that… That was too much.

              -I’m sorry, Atsushi. But as I said before, you look adorable when you’re scared, I couldn’t help it.” The young man blushed at the words, gazing at the floor, smile still gracing his lips.

              Dazai patted his head softly then walked past him, holding the door for his flustered junior to walk out. He knew Atsushi couldn’t stay mad at him for too long. He had been lucky to see his cute scared face tonight but, most importantly, the look of relief he liked to see on his features so much. It had really been a successful night.

[leswansong]

Marichat May - Kitty Cats & Ballet Shoes

Day Three: Kittens

[ A03 ]

   Marinette did all the research she could, a quick google search gave her almost all the information she needed. Chat Noir, somewhat famous jewel thief with a ten thousand euro reward for any information that led to his capture. News reports stated that Chat Noir had eluded capture many times, escaped from several of the police traps, snuck past million dollar alarm systems. He preferred to steal rare and unique pieces of jewellery, what happened to them afterwards no one knew because there was no trace of them ever being re-sold. Alya would be able to help her more but she really did not want to get her friend involved in such a delicate situation, maybe down the line once she was sure she had Chat Noir’s full trust then she could.

   She wanted to tell someone. Alya, she loved her best friend but if she sent her a simple text like ‘Hey just met a jewel thief, how was your day?’ Alya would drop everything and fly back to France just to be on her doorstep the next morning to bombard her with questions, she would then try and catch Chat Noir herself, sometimes Alya didn’t know where to stop. She considered telling the police or even her teachers well… they wouldn’t be able to do anything, they only thing they could do was send the necklace back to its incredibly secure vault and then nobody would be able to see it, they would never let it out of its vault every again and The Nutcracker would lose its star attraction.

   In the forty years that it had appeared in the production there were only a handful of photos of it so nobody knew exactly what it looked like, the only thing Marinette remembered about it was the way the stage lights bounced off of it when she was six. From the few photos and description online the necklace was small and when worn sat like a choker. It was made up of small white diamonds ranging from four to six karats all octagonal but what made the necklace so special was a rare 50 carat flawless pear-shaped pink diamond. Marinette fell in love with the necklace with only the description, there was no way she was going to let Chat steal it, the necklace deserved to be seen by the world not locked away.

   Marinette was surprised Chat Noir bought her little story about revenge but even more surprised when he gave her something to do, she just needed to-

   “Marinette!”

   She snapped back to the real world, the entire cast was staring at her, she was missing something. Her eyes scanned the group, the opera singer standing in front of her all dressed up in her Athena costume, the other ballerinas in starting positions… Oh right, the ballet, quickly she entered her own starting position behind the opera singer playing Zeus.

   Madame Aonso had an unorthodox way of teaching group dances to her ballerina’s, she preferred to have everyone together after about a week of teaching everybody the steps so she could see who was falling behind. she was like a mother hen to everyone but a fox to those that didn’t put the effort in, she was Marinette’s favourite instructor and had helped her get many of her previous small roles. The music started and Marinette waited for her cue before allowing her body to go through the hours of meticulous practice.

   Marinette’s mind wandered back to the thief as she danced, he had texted a lot over the past few days, she tried to keep her distance from him but he was persistent, reluctantly and begrudgingly she gave in if only to earn a little more of his trust. His acted so… normal which threw her off, she had expected him to rarely text her and only ask if she had heard anything about The Nutcracker but no he asked about her day, sent her funny little bits of information and the strange people he bumped into. Slowly she learned a little bit about his life and it was interesting because it was so very different from hers. She twirled around a final time completing the dance.

   Madame nodded her head, “Again!” she yelled.

   Marinette bowed and shuffled back to her starting position, her eyes flicked up to the catwalk above her, he was up there leaning over the balustrade, bitting back a groan she started to dance again trying to push him as far as she could from her mind but that was impossible.

   “Stop!”

   She froze mid-step and only just managed to stop herself from stumbling over her own feet, Madame Aonso stepped up onto the stage and a feeling of dread bubbled up to the surface, she knew what was about to happen.

   “You,” the woman’s turn voice boomed, she was pointing to a girl three down from Marinette, “dismissed,” tears fell freely from the girl's eyes and soon she was bawling her eyes out. The girl covered her eyes with her hands and ran from the stage disappearing out of sight.

   Marinette’s heart broke for the girl, she looked new to the stage and this was most likely her first production but Madame Aonso’s word was law and if you were dismissed, you would quickly find that your role had been filled by someone else willing to put the time and effort in.

   “Marinette!” Aonso practically yelled.

   Marinette stepped forward out of formation, her eyes were fully focused on the teacher, their eyes meet and she held her breath.

   “You’re free to go.”

   Relief washed over her, she bowed her head and exited the stage. She looked up at the catwalk before she headed down the corridor to her small dressing room, it was empty which meant Chat Noir was already in her dressing room, taking a deep breath to mentally prepare herself.

   She was really looking forward to having some time for herself but now that was off the table, she pushed open the door to her dressing room, Chat had his back to her looking down into something on her dressing table, she checked the hall then gently shut the door locking the two within. Curiously she walked over to him to see what had captivated his gaze, the corner of a large cardboard box slowly came into view. She frowned as she was a little confused as to why he would bring a cardboard box with him.

   “Chat? Why did you-“ she moved to stand beside him.

   “You weren’t answering my messages and I- I couldn’t leave them outside, I’m sorry I-“

   She drowned out his apologises as she stared into the box, she hated herself on the spot because she could feel herself growing attached to the small litter of kittens. It was a problem she had always had, her poor parents had to deal with her constantly bringing home stray dogs, cats and the occasional bird.

   “Chat… Please tell me you checked to see if their mother around before removing them from-“ He cut her off before she could finish.

   “I did,” he assured him, “there was a lid on the box too and I’ll spare you the details on where I found them.”

   She nodded her head in relief and reached in to pick up the only calico kitten out of the box. It looked barely over a month old, the kitten let out a small cry in her hands so she quickly put it back in with its siblings. Marinette looked at them one last time before letting out a sigh, years of her bringing home strays had taught her a lot and right now she knew there was no way that she wasn’t going to be able to keep them, they were too young to survive without their mother so they had to be taken to a vet.

   Chat was going to hate that they had to go to a vet, the caring look he was giving the kittens said it all but he had to know.

   “Chat… they need-“

   “No.”

   “Chat if they don’t they-“

   “I said no.”

   Why did he have to be so stubborn, she needed to get them to a vet, didn’t he understand that they won’t- ugh!.

   “Chat, please,” she begged to try to get him to understand.

   “I won’t see them again if they go,” a tear formed in the corner of his green cat-like eyes, she felt sorry to do this to him.

   He wiggled his finger around in the box for a grey kitten that was trying to attack them, it was a cute sight.

   “Chat… I need to take them…”

   He reluctantly removed his fingers from the box and gently slid it across the small dresser to her, it was light in her hands, she adjusted her grip so that she was supporting its base.

   She turned to the door but Chat’s gloved hand suddenly being placed on her arm, “Marinette.”

   “Yes?”

   “Text me when… when they-“

   She gave him a small reassuring smile, “Don’t worry, they’ll be okay.”

   He smiled back at her trying to hide the pain behind it.

   Pausing in front of the door she looked down at the doorknob and back at the box in her hands, she tried to adjust the way she was holding the box but it was too large to fix under her arm.

   Chat let out a laugh behind her, she guessed it must have been a funny sight, “here I’ll help you,” he offered, taking the box from her, “you need your gym bag too.”

   “And I need to change my shoe’s,” she remembered staring down at her pointed shoes still on her feet.

   “That too.”

   She sighed and fell into her chair untying the ribbons that kept the shoes in place. Chat kicked over her gym bag for her, reaching in she dug out her old crappy white sneakers and then slipped them on to her still wrapped feet.

   “I-“ Chat started.

   She looked up at him, her fingers continued to tie her shoes, “what?”

   “Your- Your feet,” he stuttered.

   She looked down at them, sometimes she forgot that people didn’t know how much of a beating her feet went through while she danced, “you’ve never seen a ballet dancers feet before have you?”

   He shook his head in response, “No, are- are you okay?”

   She gave him a soft smile, “I’m fine thank you for your concern.”

   “Are they normally like that?”

   “Comes with the territory,” she explained.

   “Does it hurt?”

   “A little,” she replied tying the final knot, “But I’m fine,” she said again trying to reassure him. She flung her gym bag over her shoulders, her ballet shoes were neatly stored away in it. Chat continued to stare blankly down at her shoes, “Chat?”

   “Hmm?”

   “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” she told him while trying to slowly remove the box from his hands, he reluctantly handed it to her.

   He didn’t seem to believe her but opened the door for her. She smiled at him again it was the only thing she could think of to not make it awkward between them as he started to escort her down the halls of the opera house.

   There weren’t any people in the halls because they were all in a dance class or rehearsal but that didn’t stop Marinette from looking over her shoulders in concern.

   “Marinette stop worrying, we’ll be fine.”

   “And what happens if someone sees you?”

   “I’m in costume,” he replied with a shrug.

   She nodded her head, it was a believable lie.

   From the few meetings and messages she had received from him he had struck her as a kind-hearted person, she wondered what had driven him to thievery. She would have to tell the police about him, that he was planning on stealing a priceless necklace but she didn’t have to tell them right now did she? His steal toed boots echoed off the bricked walls around her and lots of questions floated around in her head at that moment, questions she could just ask the masked man beside her but was too scared to pipe up, she wanted to know why he stole, what did he want the necklace and what was it all for, so many unanswered questions.

   She stepped out onto the Paris streets, glancing behind her she found Chat wasn’t there, she didn’t hear him say goodbye or his boots leave her but then again she was self-absorbed in her own head and wasn’t exactly paying attention to the world around her. A massive gust of wind hit her and she set down and tugged on a thin jacket that had been in her gym bag, it would give her some relief from the cold, she also pulled out a spare shirt and placed it in the box with the kittens, they were immediately crawling and curling up in its warmth. Pulling her phone out of her pocket she googled for the nearest veterinarian clinic finding one six blocks away. She sighed, it was a little further than she wanted to go but it was the only one open at the time, placing her phone in the box so she could see the directions she picked up the box and headed down the street.

   The sound of metal hitting what she thought was brick reached her ears, she looked to the rooftop for the source finding nothing, she frowned but kept moving forward towards her destination, the feeling of being watched stuck with her. She shook her head, she was overreacting over a small noise nobody was following her, they would have to be extremely good to at parkour to follow her plus in some places they would have to make some impossible leaps and bounds just to continue following her, it would much easier to follow her on the streets below.

   Marinette pushed against the glass door with her shoulder to enter the clinic. The small waiting room was mostly empty apart from the receptionist and an older gentleman with a parrot sitting happily on his shoulder. She shut her eyes and sighed, opening them again she walked up to the reception desk and set the box down on the floor beside her.

   “Do you have an appointment? the receptionist asked.

   “No, I have some kitten’s their mother was a stray in my neighbour and she, unfortunately, got run over a yesterday morning, I knew that she had kittens and I just found them and I-“ she nervously explained.

   She couldn’t believe that she was lying for Chat Noir right now, that no good thief had somehow managed to get her to lie, the one thing she hated doing. Ugh! Why was she lying?

   The receptionist passed up a clipboard with paperwork that she needed to fill in, “Name, Address, Phone number, leave out what you don’t know and I’ll help you fill that in.

   Marinette picked up a pen on a string and filled in her information she reached the field dedicated to her ‘pet,’ she was tempted to ask the receptionist how she was supposed to fill in this field but one look at the litter at her feet and her heart melted. They were all curled up against each other on the red long sleeved shirt she had put in, it was official she was just as attached as Chat was to them. She smiled and filled in as much as she could about them and handed it back. The receptionist quickly typed up the new information on the page.

   “Someone should be with you in a moment.”

   Marinette picked up the box and headed over to the seated area picking a seat on the other side away from the older man, she really didn’t feel like talking to the older gentleman. She sat down and quickly her phone was in hand, she sent a text to Alya telling her that she would be late to their weekly scheduled Skype call, Alya responded in mere seconds telling her it was okay and to message her when she got home. Her phone constantly dinged with panicked messages from Chat, she bit her lip unsure of how to respond so she eventually settled on ignoring him until after she had seen the vet but he eventually won, the constant chiming from her was slowly driving her crazy, she pulled the box up onto her lap and holding the phone steady she snapped a picture and sent it to him to try and earn a minute of peace. The messages stopped and Marinette leaned back in her chair letting out a sigh in relief, happy with the silence.

   “Marinette?” a woman asked.

   She looked over her shoulder in the direction of the voice, the woman was dressed in a magenta hospital garb, Marinette picked up the box and followed the woman into the sterile room.

Made for @marichatmay

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