#school cafeteria pin pads

[collywobbles-n-whatnot]

Extra extra! Arthur x Reader: part 1

Tabloid Journalist! Undercover! Reader x Old money! Yandere! Tutor

“What are your socials?” He thumbs through his phone as he waits for you to pack up, rather impatiently. Arthur had been tutoring you for the last hour or two. While he started with just English it was clear after a couple sessions that your math, history, science, and- well pretty much everything needed a spruce up. The idea of someone under his tutelage looking that dumb under his care ground his gears. So now the study sessions lasted hours for most days of the week. 

“You getting soft on me Artie? What happened to- This is just tutoring. I’m not your friend and I never will be,” You made your voice nasally and pushed up some imaginary glasses. 

“And we won’t be. I just want your instagram,” He rolls his eyes and subconsciously adjusts his very real glasses. You were everything he detested in most people his age. You had no manners, you didn’t take much of anything seriously, you were all play and no work. Or so he thought. The longer the two of you spent time with one another he realized maybe the things he thought were common were actually quite… good. 

“I don’t have one. I don’t have any social media actually. I find life more zen without them,” You shrug and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

“Pretentious, but alright.” 

“Oh, I do not want to hear that from you. Mr. I only read classic literature and drink plain hot black tea,” the empty library and setting sun added to the pressure of getting going, “Can you watch my things real quick actually. I have to run to the bathroom before I skedattle.”

“Got a hot date?” He leaned back on the hind legs of his chair. The question left a bitter taste in his mouth but it was entirely plausible. You shouldn’t be focusing on dates with the state of your grades but you weren’t unattractive. It wouldn’t surprise him if you were asked out by some of the jackasses he sees hanging all over you upon occasion. Maybe if you shared socials he can keep tabs and make sure you’re putting your energy in the right activities. 

“No, I just have dinner with Professor Lysander a couple nights a week in town. A home cooked meal beats the cafeteria any day,” The school cafeteria was nothing to sniff at. Five star chefs catered every meal of the day and even snacks. There was always something about home cooked meals though, growing up with family dinners you were elated to finally be rid of them as an adult, but as it turns out it just wasn’t the same without them. You try and not let on just how urgent the whole bathroom thing was weighing on you but you definitely wanted to finish this conversation quickly. Arthur pulled a disgusted face that just screamed ‘Egads! How uncouth!’ In that posh accent of his. 

“At his house? That’s a bit inappropriate, don’t you think? What if he’s some kind of closet psycho?” He let his chair fall back into place with a muted thud. 

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be right back,” you waved him off absentmindedly and subtly sped off to the restroom. Arthur scoffed and eyed your bag sitting where you sat in your stead. He looked around to see if there was anyone else around before flipping it open and peering inside, your pins jingled softly with the motion.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. There were books, pens, pads, and a tube of lipgloss. The pockets however were also full. Keys, gum, and… a camera. Cameras were strictly forbidden on campus, this college was as close to a secret at you could get and the staff intended to keep it that way. A loud buzz made him nearly jump out of his chair, he put everything back in your bag and looked for the source of the noise. Your phone’s Lock Screen was aglow with notifications. While the content was hidden on the standby screen, the apps were clear as day. Instagram, Snapchat, BeReal, even Pinterest. Did you seriously not want him to follow you that badly? 

The sound of your heels clicked and he leaned back in his chair, forcing a casual posture. “Thanks, for watching my stuff and thanks again for tutoring. You might be an asshole but you aren’t a half bad teacher,” You picked up your bag once more and gestured to the door. 

“Yeah, sure, fine,” he waved his hand dismissively, “I’m going with you to Lysander’s. If there isn’t anything weird going on, surly the invitation is open to all his students,” his hand just barely ghosted the small of your back as you both left the library. 

“Okay, I don’t see why not. Whatever helps you sleep at night man. I hope you like quiche,” You shrugged. 

[gardenialver]

Delinquent

synopsis - perhaps the school's delinquent wasn't as bad as they had thought

pairing - kiyoko shimizu

content - fluffy, there are violent parts, mentions/allusions of blood, fights, sexual harassment (similar to terushima), mentions of drugs

Kiyoko Shimizu

Kiyoko's heard of Karasuno's infamous delinquent, they were after all in the same year, she's seen peeks of her every now and then at school, during sports festivals, orientations, club meetings, in the halls, in the cafeteria

Your appearance never bothered her despite the fact that it was very delinquent like, coloured hair, pierced ears, tousled uniform and a tie or bow that hung around your shoulders

However, there were many parts of your appearance that said otherwise to you being so delinquent like, the little pins on your bag and keychains that hung off of it, the tinted lip balm she'd see you reapply every now and then, your cute rings and bento boxes, even your earrings were cute and only punkish on your lazy days

She has heard the stories about you, the girl who shoved the head of the school council into the school's dumpster, the girl who smashed someone's entire lab experiment and didn't even wince at the glass stuck in your skin, the girl who once emptied Takehiko Oishi's bag, the bag that belonged to the most sought after boy in school and smashed his phone and embarassed him in front of the school, there were also rumors that you had tattoos and did drugs

But, Kiyoko has never minded them, she's never minded you and doesn't really look into you, even if you were her type

At the moment, all Kiyoko Shimizu wished someone like the "Karasuno Demon" would appear and get rid of all the middle aged men who were asking her to follow them.

"Oh come on, a sweet girl like you should know what a good time is," "I'm sorry but I have some where to be," "Don't worry doll we can take better care of you," They begun to touch Kiyoko and seemed to become even more smug as she recoiled from their touch.

One of them seemed to be aiming to grab her chest, that was until it was slapped off of her, someone appeared in front of her in a flash. A side kick was delivered to the stomach of the man who had attempted to touch Kiyoko and he was blown away into a wall.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't have come here sooner, please find a safer place and look away and cover your ears, madamoiselle," A hand pointed to a sidewalk closer to a more populated area, looking behind to the source of the hand, dark ocean eyes met warm ones, the feeling your eyes held were one of warmth and compassion, like honey, large fluffy plushies, and sweet tea.

That was until another word was thrown towards Kiyoko about her body, eyes that once looked at her with such gentleness became sharp, a glint of fiercity and loathing.

You sprinted towards the group of men, turning around to mouth a 'stay safe please' to Kiyoko. Kiyoko jogged towards the spot you told her to go to, clutching the fabric close to her chest. That was the Karasuno demon and the Karasuno demon had saved her.

More importantly the Karasuno demon looked at her as if-as if she were the most bewitching person ever, Kiyoko felt, enchanted but there was something else, you called her madamoiselle, how odd. She couldn't help but giggle about it and as she turned her attention to where you once were, you were gone with the men having been piled up and left on the ground.

"Is this yours mademoiselle?" Kiyoko spun around in surprise to see you holding her hat, it must've fallen as she ran away, "Are you by chance [Name] [Last Name]."

You stared at the girl, and Kiyoko saw that same warmth return to your eyes, as if she had slipped into her bed into the winter while the heating pad was on. "Oh, why yes that is me, um, you're Kiyoko Shimizu?" She nodded with a smile.

"Um, Ms. Shimizu, would you be ok if I accompany you to your destination, just to ensure that you arrive without facing harm," "Why yes, Ms. [Last Name] that would be ok, but may I ask about your vocabulary, it's a bit different from the dialect you usually hear here in Miyagi."

You smiled at her, "It's alright, I have been adjusting but I grew up in a different country than Japan so I am still adjusting my dialect, I believe I may be grasping the idea of it but it still catches me confused," A giggle came out of the girll and you looked at her in shock, even her laugh sounded like bells, but bell sounds that would come from flowers in specific.

The two of you walked beside each other. "Is it ok if I ask you some questions [Last Name]-san," "Please just [Name] and go ahead," "By any chance do any of the rumors spoken about you bother you?" You looked at her with a grin, offering her a candy, "Well if they're true there's nothing I can do against them can I, I mean either then the one's that aren't, I don't do drugs, um, and I never will."

"It's simply that those rumors were innate in having the inability to possess information that is necessary to understand the full capacity of these situations, Takehiko Oishi took unsolicited photos of girls he would be with without their consent to do so and would show them to his friends, one of those girl's confided in me which is how I knew, I decided to take action on what was right to me, after all rumors don't affect me much now, unless they're about me doing drugs and hurting people recklessly, I promise I don't do drugs."

You seemed to be pouty after saying that and Kiyoko couldn't happen but to laugh in the irony of the situation, "I believe you [Name], would it be ok if I were to eat lunch with you on some days," Your eyes lit up and your cow lick began moving back and forth like a dog's tail.

"Yes, of course, it would be my pleasure," "Please say hi to me in the halls then, oh there are the friends I'll be meeting up with, thank you for protecting me [Name]," You handed her a small machine.

Kiyoko's head tilted in confusion, "It's a beepy, if you're in trouble, press the button there and I'll come running for you, it'll share your location and everything but only when you beep it so I promise I won't stalk you,"

You stared at it for a bit before taking it back, arms waving in panic, "Of-of course you don't have to accept it though, it's obviously kinda creepy if you think more in-depth into it, and it definitely crosses many boundaries that you may have so I shouldn't be offering this so carelessy, I'm so sorry,"

Another laugh rang through your ears and slender fingers took the machine from your own, "Thank you so much, now I have a guardian angel looking after me, thank you so much [Name], good bye now,"

As she jogged off you waved at her until she turned away and you went to walk off on your own. Kiyoko made her way to the other third years, "Was that the Karasuno demon just now?" Asahi asked nervously, "Yeah, she's particularly sweet," Kiyoko smiled at your fleeting figure.

The Kiyoko Effect

Kiyoko would seek you out every other lunch period and the two of you would sit together under a tree a bit away from the school, the first time she ate lunch with you, she was surprised at how informal your speech became, you however watched as many shows you could, reality, variety, animation, documentary, romcom, horror, thriller, game, dramas, sports, just to be able to have something to talk about with her

The volleyball team was not really fond of the idea of their older manager being around someone referred to as a "demon" but Kiyoko got really angry really quickly at them and so they shut up

Their images of you changed when they saw you feeding Kiyoko, flexing your muscles only in a way to tell her she should eat more to get stronger and that she shouldn't care about body image, the way the next lunch you were braiding flowers to place on her head as she ranted passionately, the next lunch a few crows sat on your head and suddenly you became really flustered, offering them some of your rice, so it was safe to say that they viewed the "Karasuno demon" as they viewed their ace

Yachi was the first one Kiyoko introduced to you, you had switched out all your piercings that day to look as friendly as possible, you even prepared a small cake to give to her so you wouldn't look too scary, after a lot of reassurance from Kiyoko, you and Yachi sspent a few hours talking together, about desserts and favourites

One day Kiyoko asked you what you would do outside of school and why you would always be in a rush to leave school, "Oh, I have 6 younger siblings," and you emitted a sigh, "I have another one coming on the way," Kiyoko was so shocked to hear that, "Oh, at least your parents have a good relationship?" You laughed at the way she tried to comfort you, "It's ok but I have a brother three years younger than me, a sister five, another brother eight, another sister twelve, fraternal twins one boy one girl fifteen, and the one coming is also girl, but I pick up the two from middle school, drop him off at soccer, me and my sister go pick up the other two from elementary school, I drop the older one off at gymnastics, I take the two and get them a snack and then I pick up the twins from daycare and we go to a park, then I do some groceries, and then I take the dogs on a walk, technically I'm taking the four of them on a walk, get my siblings started on their homework, drop the twins off at their friends house, I take the two middle kids with me to do some extra shopping and then they help me make dinner, every other day they do fencing though, I used to do kick boxing and taekwondo but I quit after we moved to Japan." "Wow you're so cool [Name],"

Around school people eventually began to refer to you as Kiyoko's dark knight, how Kiyoko has a demon protecting her. This mainly stemmed from the fact that half of the student population watched you punch Terushima

Kiyoko likes to buy earrings and rings for you, and given your many siblings, it wasn't a surprise that you also had 6 favourite characters. However, that number grew to 7 when you confessed to her and Chelsea from beatcats was soon a plush keychain you carried around everywhere but also a plush you'd go to sleep with

Your delinquency also changed a bit when you and Kiyoko started dating and everyone would smile to her in the halls, but Kiyoko changing you didn't mean you'd glare at anyone who'd look at her with anything more than respect and admiration

Bonus

"Kiyoko, are you cold," You look worriedly at your girlfriend who came out in a thin jacket, "I'm alright [Name], don't worry," She kissed your nose.

The more you walked, the more uncomfortable you began to feel and Kiyoko felt a weight pressing on her shoulders. Your parka had been removed from your body and placed on top of her, holding it out you motioned for your girlfriend to place her arms in one sleeve then moved to the other.

The snow crunched as you ran around to help her but you didn't mind, soon your scarves were also traded, a thin pink scarf wrapped around your neck while a thicker, fluffy white scarf was wrapped around hers, you pulled the back of the scarf up to make a hood, covering her ears.

You crouched down to her feet and placed a heat back in each shoe, "There, now my baby is all warm," You run away cheekily and your lovely track girlfriend catches up to you, slipping her arm into yours.

"You know [Name], although people call you the Karasuno demon, you feel more like a guardian angel," You kissed her free hand, pretending to bite it.

"Well, your role in your club is to look after 13 others so now it's time for me to look after you, my precious, and sweet, and pretty, and cute, and lovely, and beautiful, and divine, and angelic, and darling girlfriend,"

Kiyoko's flowery, bell-like laughter fills the cold air and she leans into you. Your fingers move to wrap her hand and she moved her hands into the jacket you placed her in, "My dark knight," And the two of you kiss, just as sweet as the day the two of you met.

[solerwolf21]

Aerith One-Shot?

It was a normal day in the cafeteria as you sat next to your friend, like normal. And much like normal your attention wasn’t on the conversation at hand, but it was focused on a certain girl, like normal. You watched the auburn-haired girl who keeps her long hair in a single braid with a red bow with the rest falling down her shoulders. Her bangs, which she was currently moving to the side, sat above her gentle green eyes that were focused on her art pad that she was doodling in. Her pink dress stopped at her knees where her white long socks met at her knees and ended in her boot. She also had her signature red leather crop jacket. She accessories with her gold bracelets that clinked as she moved her arm. 

You watched as she sat alone at the same table she always does and has since you both entered high school, her tray with partially eaten food to the side, backpack next to her as she continued her drawings. You never understood why Aerith sat alone but you hated it every time. She wasn’t someone who should be alone.

“So you going to talk to her or keep staring a hole into her?” Your attention was drawn from your starting as you met the red eyes of Tifa who was giving you a knowing smile. She and Cloud sat next to each other and with you at your table. The two had been friends with you since freshman year and were the only ones to notice the massive crush you had on Aerith. Cloud was usually the quietest out of your trio much like he was now just silently eating his meal. Tifa however after finding out you pinning for Aerith hadn’t hidden the teasing but was always pushing you to go and talk to her. Which was something you were planning to do…at some point. 

Tifa giggled at your flustered expression,

“You know she’s hard to talk to. We all know how nice she is. She’s even friendly to Cloud here,” she said. Cloud gazed at her for a moment before looking at you,

“I’m not that hard to talk to,” he said after a moment of thought. Tifa rolled her eyes playfully while you sighed,

“Sure thing Cloud,” you anf Tifa said in unison. This got an annoyed grumble from the Blond as he went back to his food. As he did your gaze went back to Aerith who was as busy as ever in her drawings,

“Ya know she won’t bite,’ your eyes went back to Tifa’s pleading expression, “Come on what's stopping you from at least talking to her?” she asked,

“Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact that she’s Aerith and I’m me? She way out of my league,” you said followed by a sigh,

“That's not true and you know it. You gotta believe in yourself more,” she said. You only considered it for a moment but resigned at that thought,

“As if. Plus I don’t stand a candle to Zack,” you responded. Tifa tapped your arm which was still with enough force to sting a bit,

“Ow! You know your punches even light hurt,” you said rubbing the spot and looking at her. But you were met with her angry eyes which wasn’t a good site,

“I know you aren’t comparing yourself to her ex. She and Zack broke up before he left and that was a long time ago. And you know Aeirth wouldn’t compare you to anybody but yourself. It’s not in her personality to be like that,” she said. You put your hands up in surrender,

“Ok, ok you’re right. Aerith isn’t like that. But still, Zack had a lot more going for him than I do. The guy was awesome while me? I’m just me,” you said with a sigh. Tifa pouted at you though you didn’t notice as you looked at the food that you’d barely touched. She nudged Cloud who snapped out of his own thoughts to pay attention to the conversation. He met her annoyed eyes and your downtrodden expression,

“Hey you can’t give up before you start,” he said getting an approving nod from Tifa. You played with your grapes moving them around with your fork. Tifa and Cloud looked at you concerned and took each other wondering what they could say. Yet before they could speak the two looked up at the new person approaching the table and sly smiles spread to their faces. You were wrapped up in your thoughts as you felt a tap,

“Not now Tifa. Can’t you see I’m sulking,” you said,

“I’m not Tifa,” the new voice said. Your heart hitched at the voice as your whipped your head up fast enough to get whiplash. Before you stood Aerith who just looked at you with curiosity in her eyes,

“You ok?” she asked her voice sounding sweeter than anything you've ever tasted. It took you a full minute of silence before you realized you hadn’t talked yet. You should probably do that,

“Ok? Me? Y-Yeah I’m uh, yeah I’m good, good. W-What about you?” smooth. Your behavior got a giggle out of her as she smiled,

“Me? I’m good. I just noticed you looking down and was curious. I’m not interrupting anything am I?” she asked as she looked at Tifa and Cloud. Tifa smiled and shook her head,

“Of course not. Hey, why do you sit with us today? We got plenty of room for you,” she offered. You felt your heart jump again at the thought of her sitting here,

“Really? You don't mind?” 

“Of course not we’d love to have you, right Cloud?” Cloud gave her nod which was much as him saying yes. Aerith's eyes lit up with glee,

“Great I’ll get my stuff,” and she was back at her table quickly. In the moments of her gathering her things, you looked to Tifa desperately,

“What are you doing?” you said in a harsh whisper. Tifa smiled that familiar mischievous smile you’ve learned to hate,

“You’ll thank me later,” she said. Before you could reply Aeirth had returned and placed her tray next to your filling up the seat on the other side of you effectively trapping you between her and Tifa. You watched her get comfy placing her bag down and then looking at you with that smile at point-blank range. If her being so close wasn’t dangerous enough that smile at this range would be the finishing blow. Unconsciously you scooted a bit away and yet to your surprise she scooted closer giving you a similar mischievous look as Tifa,

“Don’t tell me I scare you?” she said teasingly. You felt the heat on your neck raise at that,

“No. Why would you scare me?” you managed. She didn’t lessen the distance if only inching a bit closer,

“I don’t know you tell me since you scooted away,” she responded. Your words were caught in your throat as she was close enough to get her scent, She smelled like flowers and the earth. When it felt like your heart was going to explode she relented moving her face away to go into her bag and pull back out her art pad. Though she never did scoot back over. You looked at Tifa for a moment but noticed that conveniently she and Cloud were in the middle of a conversation,

‘Of course you are.’ you thought. Realizing the futility of fighting back so you took a silent breath to calm yourself. You looked back over to Aerith to see was wrapped back up into her drawing. You’ve seen her drawing from a distance for so long that seeing it up close you could see how focused her eyes were as she sketched. The way she slouched when working on a specific part which caused her bangs to fall in her eyes which in turn caused her to move them. Or how at times she'd stick her tongue just a bit as she worked which only added to her cuteness. You felt your blush rising and she wasn't even talking to you. But you couldn't help it for this was Aerith.

You felt a nudge to your side and you glanced to see Tifa and Cloud eyeing you. You didn't need them to speak to know what they were telling you and you internally sighed for they were right after all. Looking to Aerith your mind quickly went over all the possible ways to start a conversation. It's not like you hadn't ever spoken to her in fact you have a few times. But they were mainly in passing or for the times she was inviting people to join the gardening club. In fact, Aerith had initiated all of those interactions.

'Time to change that,' you thought as you steeled yourself,

"Hey Aerith," you began but her eyes focused on you too quickly giving you their full attention causing you to freeze,

"Yes?" She asked and you just looked at her too stunned to speak yet again. A few seconds rolled by of your awkward silence and staring until Aerith took the lead and bopped you on the nose effectively resetting you. She smiled as you focused in,

"Good to know a simple bop to the nose and you're back," she said in a teasing tone. You chuckled off some of the nerves,

"Y-Yeah that is good to know," you said. She nodded and turned her full body to accidentally touch your knees but not seeming to care,

"Now then what was it you wanted? Or did you just want to stare at me?" She asked. You felt your knees touching, noticed the close proximity, and had her full attention on you. It was a trifecta of things to get you close up with nerves. But you felt the eyes of your friends burning on your back and knew if you messed this opportunity up they wouldn't let you live it down. Ever. 

"W-Well I was wondering…what it is that you're drawing? You looked so focused on it," you said finally. Aerith's eyes brightened in excitement at the question,

"Let me show you," she quickly got her pad and showed you the picture she was working on. It was incomplete but you were surprised to notice how good of a hand she had as you could easily make out that it looked to be a flower of some sort. In fact, it was several flowers sitting in a vase on a table. It looked like she was going for realism. At least that's what you remembered, your art teacher called it,

"Woah, this is amazing.  really good at drawing," you said as you looked at the picture closer. You didn't notice the slight blush that came to Aerith at your compliment,

"Thanks, I have more if you want to see," you nodded and that started the rest of your lunch. Aerith flipped through the rest of her pad showing you the dozens of sketches and drawings she's done. They were a mix of styles ranging from realism to more anime style. Your favorite was the dog she made. At least you think it was a dog for it also had features of a cat as well yet it these tribe-like markings on its arm and the number 13,

"Why 13?" You asked her when looking it over. She shrugged,

"Cause it looked cool?" You wanted to ask her more but the sound of the bell disrupted the pleasant conversation between you. She sighed as she put away her things,

“Sadly classes must resume,” she said as she stood with her tray, “It was fun sitting with you guys,” she said with a smile. Tifa smiled back,

“Your welcome to sit with us anytime Aerith,” she said with Cloud nodding. That only made her smile brighter,

“Thank you. I might just take you up on that offer,” she said. Then her eyes fell on you once again, “It was fun going over art with you,” she said her tone sounding a bit sadder yet you didn’t know why,

“Yeah, it was,” you said in response. There was a pause as she just stood there her gaze locked on yours and you could swear it looked as if she was waiting for something, or for you to do something. When you didn’t respond she kept her smile and turned to leave. And when she did you felt weight press down on your chest as you felt that you missed something, missed some quiet cue. So without thought, you stood,

“Hey Aerith,’ she paused and looked back to you curious yet again. You felt your face flush with nervousness as your heart hammered away yet you couldn’t stop now, “Um if you ever want I’d like to talk more art with you and see any more of your drawings. I think there really cool,” a smile so genuine spread on her face you couldn’t stop the blush that you had been holding back,

“I’d love to! Maybe I could get you to draw something as well,” she said. She gave a wave and you watched her walk off. When she did you fell back into your seat as your brain was slowly catching up to reality,

“What just happened?” you asked quietly before placing your hand on your head. Tifa was practically bouncing with excitement,

“You were great! I’m so proud of you!” she said. You just looked at her confused,

“W-What?” She gave you a playful shove,

“Don’t what me. With Aerith. I saw you two going over and talking about her art. It was cute,”  she said. It still hadn’t sunk in that you basically invited Aerith to share her art with you whenever she pleased, but aslo that you had a pleasant conversation with her as well? It was too much to take in at once but here you were getting confirmation from your friends that all of that happened. And that you survived it,

“Woah,” Tifa laughed while Cloud gave a half smile,

“You did good,” he said as he gathered his things. Tifa followed his lead,

“I think you got a real chance here so don’t mess it up,” she said as the two went to their classes. You sat there for a few moments longer just processing. It wasn’t until the second bell range did you pop out of your daze to gather your things to make it to your next class quickly. 

***

The last bell of school rang and like most teenagers on a Friday their first thought was to get as far away as possible from the prison that is school. And while typically you were the same this time however you got pulled after class by your homeroom teacher. You weren’t in trouble or anything but she wanted to go over some future prospects for your next level of education and if you needed a recommendation she’d be happy to give you one. Of course, you were polite to listen but your mind couldn’t be anywhere but here. 

After your talk, most of the student body had left except those in extracurricular activities. And you weren’t in any clubs or sports so no reason to stay. Tifa and Cloud messaged you about meeting up online tonight. It was something you guys did daily so you never really knew why it was always discussed. But they were your best friends and it did little to argue with a set pattern. Plus you knew that they wanted to talk about what happened at lunch with Aerith. And you couldn’t lie talking about it would help you figure everything out.

After a trip to your locker for some books for homework you set your sights on home. As you made it to the entrance the sounds of struggling caught your ears as the voice sounded familiar. Walking out the door you were met with the sight of Aerith struggling with what looked to be several large bags of either dirt or fertilizer. She had a cart but there were a lot of bags to stack up. You paused and watched her for a few moments as she heaved the bag on top of the others with effort. She took a moment to wipe her brow and you noticed she was wearing an apron and gloves. Very much looking like a florist. Very cute. But when you saw her go for the next bag you didn’t hesitate to walk over. She didn’t even notice your approach as she started to lift the bag. You noticed the struggle and before she could drop it you caught the other end surprising her,

“Oh nice catch,” she said as you both lifted the bag onto the others,

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw you heaving these bags and thought you could use a hand,” you said. She looked genuinely surprised at that but it switched to a just as genuine smile,

“My knight in shining armor. I thank you for the help,” she said. You felt a blush threatening to show at her words but masked it with a cough,

“I-I wouldn’t say all that. But I got time so I could help you with the rest of these,” 

“As long as you don’t mind getting a bit dirty then I welcome the help. Even with muscles like mine these can get a bit heavy,” she said and then proceed to flex her arms showing small muscles. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the display which seemed to be her goal as she giggled with you. The two of you got to work and quickly packed up the bags into the cart,

“Cool. So where is it that you're taking these?” you asked,

“To roof top silly. Thats where the greenhouse is after all,” she said. She then started to push the cart. Yet with all the bag's weight, it was barely moving. So doing your next courageous act you moved next to her and helped her push the cart getting it rolling. You didn’t see the slight blush on her face as you both pushed the cart. It took you both a bit of time to move them all but with some effort, you both got the bags up to the rooftop greenhouse. After placing the last bag down you sighed as you felt sweat on your brow,

“Man those bags were no joke. I worked up a sweat,” a rag entered your view and the hand holding it was none other than Aerith who had one herself,

“This should help,” she said. You gladly took the rag and wiped off the sweat feeling a bit of relief,

“Thanks,”

“It's the least I can do for all your help today. It would’ve taken me a lot longer to get these all up here. I only learned of the delivery coming early after classes,”  She said as she took off her apron and gloves placing them back in their spots. You readjusted your bag and took a look around the greenhouse. While there was a considerable amount of beautiful and maintained flowers you could feel a sense of loneliness. There was only one set of gloves and apron, one water can, and one set of gardening tools,

“Aerith why didn’t you ask the other members to help?” you asked as you looked at her. She was finishing messing with her jacket when she turned to you,

“Well there would have be members for that to happen,” she said with a smile. You felt a pang in your heart at hearing that,

‘She’s been doing this alone?’ Aerith noticed the change in your demeanor and looked at you curiously, 

“Everything ok?” You didn’t respond right away which only added to her curiosity. Without thought, you took a step toward her getting close enough to catch that scent of hers, flowers and earth,

“I-I wanted to know if it’d be alright if I joined gardening club,” you said. She just looked at you for a moment,

"As much as I'd like that gardening doesn't really seem like something you'd be into and I'd rather not waste your time. I appreciate the thought though really. " the rejection, even though it was sound, hurt a bit. Yet you noticed the small glimmer in her eyes at the offer quickly dimmed and you wouldn’t stand for it,

“W-Well would it be ok if I stopped by to…hang out?” you asked. She just stared at you for a moment. You knew those eyes were reading your expression for anything hidden, anything you weren’t showing. You noticed she did that often, yet you were honest with the question so you stood your ground and held her gaze. A silent moment passed and when her eyes widened you saw a faint blush on her face as that wonderful smile of hers came back,

“Since I am the president of the club I think guest visits can be allowed. We meet every Wednesday and Friday after school. Though the space is open whenever,” she said. You smiled at that,

“R-Right! Wednesday and Friday’s,” Aerith then did something you weren’t expecting. She strolled up and poked your nose once more confusing you,

“What was that for?” you asked. She just gazed at you fondly a moment before shrugging,

“Don’t know. Just felt like it. Come on let's head out. I’ll go through the sorting next week,” she said turning to get her bag and leave. You paused a moment as your hand went to your nose as you could still feel where she touched. But at her voice, you snapped back to reality and jogged to catch up. You two returned to the entrance exiting the main gates. Aerith stopped at the entrance and turned to you,

“Welp I gotta this way,’ she pointed to the opposite direction of your house, “And I rather not take you out of your way,” she said. You felt that sadness again at the thought of splitting but a different thought came to you,

“Wait, you know which way I live?” you asked. She quickly grew flustered at that,

“I’ve just noticed that you go that way when leaving is all. Nothing creepy,’ she said with a pout. You grinned at the cute display, “But that aside seriously I can handle myself till home. Thanks again for helping. It means a lot,” 

“Oh, yeah of course. If you ever need help again just ask me I don’t mind,” you said. She just smiled and nodded signaling the end of the conversation. Yet neither one of you moved as if your feet were glued to the spot. It didn’t that neither of you talked either and as the silence lingered the one thing you feared began to happen. It got awkward.

You had a feeling about why it got this way you felt, no knew, it was because you wanted to ask for her number. But being who you are was a task on par with climbing the tallest mountain. You met her gaze and she yours and there was a moment of her looking at you curiously almost waiting and yet you wanted to ask but again nothing came out only adding to the awkward air between. After another moment you gained the strength to speak,

“W-Well I best get moving. See you next week,” you said awkwardly and turned away. You took a few steps and already began to mentally chide yourself for your cowardness,

‘And just when everything was going well,’ you thought as you walked. But the sound of quickening footsteps and her voice stopped you,

“Wait up a second,” you turned back to see Aerith stopping before you, “Give me your phone,” she said and you did without question unlocking it. You watched her a few moments as she typed something in and once satisfied she gave it back with a smile,

“Ok now see you later!” she said as she jogged away from you. You stood there and watched until she was out of view confused,

‘What just…’ your thoughts ended as your notification sound rang. Without thinking, you figured it was Cloud or Tifa wondering where you were but when a new name showed on your screen you felt your heart skip a beat. It was Aerith and she said, Hi! 

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

Hello! Don't If I'll do more but if you want more let me know. It was really fun to write honestly.

[fleckcmscott]

Stepping Stones - Chapter 2

Chapter links: 1

Summary: Y/N and Arthur share a delightful life, one that isn’t perfect but wholly theirs. When his struggles take a serious turn, she's surprised by the toll it exacts. Though the steps they'll have to take aren't easy, walking them together makes all the difference.

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Struggles with mental illness

Words: 3,739

A/N: Once again, a heartfelt thanks to @sweet-nothings04​ for offering to beta-read this story and her encouragement. Her contributions have been invaluable! Also, thank you guys for your support! I hope you continue to enjoy this story. And don’t worry: there may be angst - but there’s love, too. 

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask! I’m still working on requests and Way Back Home!

Y/N wasn't used to being searched. It'd last happened at the District Courthouse when she'd gotten in the wrong line and nearly wound up in the jury room for a murder trial. At least the stout woman in Arkham's visitor entrance lobby was more pleasant than the bailiffs.

Unassuming in a white polo shirt and black pants, her nametag introduced her as Gladys, and the split "I Can Help!" sticker along the top cemented her as a fixture. She was friendly for a Gothamite, commenting on the sunny weather while unceremoniously dumping the contents of Y/N's handbag onto a plastic table pad. Asking about the ride over as she politely ignored tampons and confiscated a nail file. She spelled Y/N's name back to her before jotting it on the sign-in sheet and offered a genuine smile. "You have a nice time with your husband, dear. Just check out with me before you leave."

Visitor's badge pinned above her left breast, Y/N adjusted the collar of her red silk blouse, ensured the heart pendent around her neck was centered, and pushed through the door marked "Visitation."

Her kitten heels click-clacked across the checkerboard linoleum floor. The cafeteria was large, like an elementary school gymnasium without the scoreboards. Lack of funding had turned the once pristine walls to the off-white of a bathtub that had seen too few scrubbings. Large windows dotted them in sets of two, each covered with grate from the inside. Metal fans were riveted to their frames, a poor attempt to compensate for the lack of fresh air. To her left, six rows of steel tables stretched halfway across the room, about a third full of staff and patients, family members and friends. A metal buffet stood to her right, along with a sign stating a menu of beef cutlets and gravy would be served at 5:30 PM. A pony wall separated a family area on the far end. She spotted a patient with his wife and daughter watching cartoons together, ones that were old enough for Y/N to have grown up on.

It struck her how average the place felt, similar to the hospital back home she'd spent far too many hours in. It made sense: the people here were patients like any other, even if they were under lock and key. When she headed to the aluminum coffee urn on a rickety steel cart, there was a woman, around thirty, making conversation with a new wave chick, holding a ragged teddy bear and pulling her hair. Their eyes met and Y/N attempted a friendly smile. Once she'd purchased two cups, she sat by a window and crossed her legs, foot swinging back and forth as she sipped the stale liquid.

She tried to quell her nervous anticipation. Due to his time of admittance, Arthur's forty-eight-hour observation period had stretched late into Thursday night, well after visiting hours. Tasks big and small had punctuated the wait. One of Arthur's clients called to confirm a birthday party, and Y/N, hazy from lack of sleep, explained there'd been a family emergency.

Then it dawned on her that she'd have to find Arthur's gig list, which meant rummaging through his desk, a private space she'd respected since presenting him with it for their anniversary. Thank god he no longer locked the drawers, because she had no idea where he kept the key. (There were only so many hiding places in their three-room apartment, but she had no desire to search every nook and cranny.) The yellow legal pad resided in the top left drawer, under a prop catalog and kraft paper notebook. After ringing Gary and asking him to fill in ("I'm not sure I can do all these, but I can mention them at HaHa's." "That'd be great but don't get yourself in trouble. And, please, leave out Randall."), she telephoned eight households and three businesses with his contact information and apologies.

She worked extra hours in the evening to make up for the time she'd inevitably take off when Arthur was home, an arrangement that wasn't strictly legal, but she didn't see the harm in. Her colleagues graciously ignored the number of personal calls she made, to ask how Arthur was doing and learn about policies. While he wasn't yet rational, staff said, he was cooperative. Well, mostly cooperative. He'd eaten breakfast and referred to everyone as sir or ma'am, but he'd also caused a ruckus when he'd come to and found his wedding ring missing. They'd made an exception to the no jewelry rule and given it back. Personal clothing wasn't permitted, either, besides underwear, and toiletries were out of the question. It irked her - he deserved the dignity of his own hairbrush - but she didn't want to single him out by arguing for further favors. So she shuttled over a week's worth of briefs on her lunch break, chest tight as she gave it to the man with headphones at reception.

Despite the setting, despite the weight of not knowing what mood he'd be in, a thrill bubbled through her veins. Whenever a silhouette appeared behind the glue chip glass of the patient entrance, her pulse skipped. Y/N knew it was silly to expect a lot this first visit but she couldn't help it. She missed him. She missed him. Like it had been thirty days instead of three.

It took about six minutes for the door to crack an inch, and a full ten seconds for it to open completely. An orderly propped his weight against it, pointing in her general direction with his head. She stood and smoothed her palm down her A-line skirt, ensured the hem was at her knee. Maybe it was selfish, perhaps even foolish, but she hoped the surprise would be a highlight of Arthur's day, make him feel better, and she hoped seeing him would be one of hers. He was still her partner, after all. Still her Arthur. That would never change.

Clad in white scrubs and white shoes and about twenty feet away, Arthur stepped over the threshold and scanned the room. She gave him a modest wave when she caught his eye. His approach was more tentative than she would have liked, his steps shorter than usual, fists balled at his sides. As he drew closer, she noted the oiliness of his hair, the two-day black and grey stubble on his chin. His crow's feet had grown deeper, his eyelids slightly purple. Exhaustion dripped from every pore. The cut on his forehead had scabbed over into a thin line, quite modest considering its origin and how much he'd bled.

But he was as beautiful to her as always. The hint of a smile tipped her mouth. "Hi, Arthur."

"Hi," he said lowly. A reservation she barely recognized clouded his light green irises.

Part of her began to suspect popping in like this had been a mistake. Giving up wasn't in her nature, however, especially when it came to the love of her life. She forged ahead, closing the gap between them. Dr. Kellerman had advised her to let Arthur set the pace of their visits, to offer support while respecting his boundaries. Yet, touching him had become as vital to her as breathing, and it didn't occur to her to ask for permission before she reached to cup his face.

His skin felt papery under her fingertips, and red, flakey spots of dermatitis bloomed next to his nose and below his eye. He smelled of cheap bar soap and detergent, though whiffs of his woodsy masculine scent lurked underneath. But his clothes were clean and fit him well, better than half his own wardrobe. "I'm so happy to see you," she said, tracing his sharpened cheeks.

He nodded weakly, lips pursed into a grimace of disbelief. "Good."

"I got us some coffee. We can sit here or on one of the sofas."

"Here's fine."

She took his hand and led him to their table, itching for him to entwine their fingers, lamenting a little when he didn't. While he followed closely, his posture radiated tension like an oven radiated heat. Rather than the gait they'd adopted over the years, he moved as if he was afraid to touch her, as if he feared she'd disappear. Or reject him. Once he was situated and stirring sugar into his cup, she sat beside him and bumped their legs, refusing to let his fears go unchallenged. "How's your room?"

"It's okay. Just me. I'm not there much." He blew lightly on his steaming brew. "I haven't seen this part of the hospital before."

Y/N arched her brow. "No?"

"Penny had trouble getting over here to visit. When I had episodes."

Flabbergasted, a huff of disapproval escaped her. Arthur had been in out Arkham six or seven times, and Penny hadn't made it over once? According to Arthur, she'd been sick for a while, but what about twenty years ago? Even later, they hadn't had any money, which meant she would've had to care for herself while he was away. If she had had the wherewithal to go through the process of committing her son, couldn't she have at least called a cab? Y/N pushed her ire aside, not wanting it to affect Arthur. "Did you see your therapist today?"

"Mhm."

"Is he good? Does he listen to you?"

"He's fine."

She took a long drink. "Did you get the underwear I brought over?"

"Yeah." he sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "They wrote my name on the waistband."

"I'll get new ones," she said, tapping her chin in contemplation, opting for a little cheer. "Donahue's has a racy number from Mad Mod. How'd you feel about zig-zag bikinis in maroon?" Instead of the laugh she'd craved, the incredulous smirk he saved for ridiculous suggestions, his knees quaked, bouncing and bouncing, freshly wound springs in bleached cotton.

None of this was going as she'd pictured.

Self-consciousness was atypical for her, a personality trait she'd shed in her late twenties after a failed marriage and the beginning of her parents' declines. Being with Arthur felt secure, open, even during his worst days. When he'd discovered his mother's Arkham file, learned the details of his abuse. Or the weeks after she'd passed and any chance of finding out more about himself, the truth about his father and chance to get a crumb of paternal affection, had died along with her.

Gathered at this table with her husband and bad coffee, old insecurities returned with the force of a subway careening at full speed. She sought to encourage him but didn't want to dismiss his feelings, harken back when he'd been burdened with "Happy." Her questions were obviously getting on his nerves - she was at a loss as to how he'd react to more of them. Their banter had vanished. The clues she had to follow were based on an old map, comprised of well-worn paths to joy she could walk with her eyes closed. Now those paths were overgrown with weeds.

But she wouldn't stop trying to trim them. Some shears were in reach: a woman's magazine lay abandoned on a nearby table, famous for its relationship quizzes and bedroom advice. She snagged it, scooted her chair closer to Arthur, and flipped through the glossy pages until the headline "Are You Meant To Be?" screamed in bright pink font. She cleared her throat and read aloud. "'You and your husband are shipwrecked on a desert island. You can take any household item with you. What item would you bring?'" She paused, then went with what first came to mind. "Toothbrush. I can't expect you to kiss me when I-"

"Why are you acting like this?"

Her gaze locked on him. "Like what?"

"Like I haven't fucked everything up."

Automatically, she reached for his thigh, not heeding the angry twitch of his jaw. "You haven-"

He batted her arm away, inadvertently knocking the magazine to the floor. "Don't lie to me," he rasped. "I don't like you seeing me like this. I don't want you to have to come visit and pretend." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, an anger she recognized as shame dripping from every word. "Can you please just go?"

Pain lanced through her, pain she hadn't felt since her father, deep in the throes of dementia, had accused her of stealing from him. Her lashes lowered to hide her hurt. Arthur acting like this was proof of how out of sorts he was, how much he was struggling with his illnesses. But it didn't make his behavior any easier to take, even if she firmly believed it should. She had to try to accept him as he was in the moment. To forgive him and herself for pressing him too far, too quickly. To listen to his request for time, the way he'd listened to hers after the Murray show, giving her the gift of patience and understanding. A gift he also deserved.

Pushing herself to stand, she glanced at the orderly and lay a gentle palm on Arthur's back. To her relief, he didn't retreat. "I'm here if you need me," she said softly. "If you feel up to it, give me a ring. We could both use a joke or two." Fingertips caressed his distended shoulder, and she pecked the crown of his head, breathed in the oily musk of his scalp. Not entirely pleasant but him all the same. "We'll see each other soon. Get some rest and remember I love you."

~~~~~

"This woman wandered in off the street the other day. Pointy-toed shoes, fur coat, pillbox hat like she thinks she's Jackie Kennedy..." Perched on Y/N's side of the bed, Patricia dunked her orange pekoe teabag, gave it a good squeeze, laid it on her saucer. "She wanted to sue the Wayne Estate for damages to her Bentley, because Thomas Wayne had broken a legally binding oral agreement - she must have read a legal thriller and gotten haughty - to fix the potholes in Old Gotham when he was mayor. I told her to complain to Public Works, but she decided to camp out at your old desk to clip her nails. Finally, Matt had enough and offered her a phone call to Gotham PD or ten bucks for her trouble." She shook her head with a chuckle. "What a jackass. Retirement can't come soon enough."

"Don't wish your life away," Y/N retorted, inadvertently quoting a pamphlet she'd gotten from the Arkham gift shop, "Care for the Caregiver." The title had made her balk: Arthur bathed himself, fed himself, knew who she was. But it had been a straw to hold onto, albeit feebly. She retrieved a curved, wooden hanger from the closet and stuck one end in the arm of her freshly ironed blouse. "Besides, you've been working since you were sixteen, right? I give it a year before you'd go stir-crazy."

"Actually, I've been thinking about taking a class or two at the learning center," said Patricia.

"Oh, really? What kind? Pottery, advanced baking, conversational Spanish?"

"How to find nicer friends."

Hand on her hip, Y/N smirked over her shoulder to find Patricia's teacup raised for a toast. "Let me know what you learn," Y/N said, hoisting the laundry basket onto the bed. "I could use a few pointers." She batted the older woman with a dress sock, then fished for its companion. She shook them out. Aligned the cuffs and toes, smoothed the nylon with the side of her hand, folded the fabric into thirds. The top drawer's left ball-bearing slide stuck when she tried to pull it open, and she made a mental note to ask Arthur to take a look at it.

Without warning, a profound sense of loss swept over her, flushing her cheeks, her forehead. He'd been gone almost a week, the longest they'd been apart aside from conferences and training. Her days had been blessedly busy but dragged on nonetheless, slow as the secondhand on her watch when the battery had to be replaced.

Arthur had gotten in the habit of leaving a note whenever he had an early gig or errand to run, just a few words stating where he was, that he'd be home later, that he loved her. Though she knew he was in Arkham, she couldn't stop her heart from expecting one when she made morning coffee. She ached to pull him inside before he lit a second cigarette, and for his teasing kisses when he'd resist. The way he brushed his teeth from side-to-side, eschewing her method of small circles and daily flossing. Last night, a hot flash had kept her awake, and she'd longed for the feel of his strong, slender hands rubbing refrigerated lotion into her calves, a trick he'd learned to quiet his mother when she'd gone through what he politely referred to as The Change.

Y/N had never wanted to love someone so much she needed them, but Arthur had made it safe. And now here she was, anguishing over a stubborn piece of furniture. She gave the knob another good, hard heave until it popped off into her palm. With a groan, she slapped it on the top of the dresser, between his wallet and her jewelry box.

A gentle hold on her elbow halted her. "The clothes'll keep," Patricia said.

The compassion in her voice, subtle chords that would sound like judgement to others, loosened Y/N's stance. Granted permission for her to take a break from coping and give into grief. Slinking down onto the mattress, she picked up Arthur's blue house pants from the mound of panties and trousers and hugged them to her breast.

"Your anniversary is coming up," Patricia continued. "Will Arthur be home for it?"

"Yes. Three weeks is all the insurance will pay for, and Dr. Kellerman said we were lucky to get that." Most patients were discharged after two, even if they had nowhere else to go.

"How is he? Do you think he'll be ready then?"

"I'm not sure. He barely comes to the phone." She'd tried letters, too. Written on her office letterhead, declarations of her support and affection that were as stilted as the motions she regularly drafted. Something for him to read when they couldn't speak, when they couldn't touch. But he hadn't responded.

Although Y/N was the sole person he'd added to his list of allowed visitors, he hadn't signed the release. Sure, she'd learn the details of his care if a court remanded him, but she wasn't about to have him declared legally incompetent, not unless everything went to shit. But she had deduced his schedule by calling and asking if he could come to the phone. He's in group, Mrs. Fleck, the charge nurse had let slip. Or, You can try in an hour. He should be out of one-on-one by then.

Therapy three times a day. Safety and daily living skills. Goal setting before bed. No wonder he hadn't had the energy to say good night.

"I know what you're going through," Patricia said. She stretched to put her empty teacup on the nightstand. "When Robert got back from Korea, he kept his distance. Buried himself in starting his business, was gone most nights on extra late repair jobs, worked, worked, worked. It was nearly a year before he really came home. But he made it and Arthur will, too."

The intimacy behind the disclosure was a welcome invitation, a hook that tugged at Y/N's core and confirmed honesty would be all right. She drew a shaky breath, fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of Arthur's pajamas. "I thought I'd seen everything. Losing my mother, going out of my mind with my father. Those were finalities I couldn't prevent." Rapid blinking fought the wetness of her eyes. She swiped at them with the heel of her hand. "If you had seen him, Patricia... I just hope Arthur understands. I don't want him to think I wanted him to leave."

"Listen to me." Patricia adopted her mentor tone and hugged her tight around the middle. "There's no way he'd believe that. Remember when we doubled at Kao Wah? When we were in the restroom, and he ordered your favorite dish without having to ask what it was? He adores you." She swept her hand through the air as if she could sweep away Y/N's woes. "You promised to take care of him through everything. You did what you had to to keep him safe. You couldn't have done anything else, Y/N. Don't doubt yourself."

After some moments Y/N nodded. "You know, my parents had a swimming hole on our property. When I was young, I used to skip stones across it and make wishes. For my doll's arm to mend, for my parents to say safe, for my sister's surgeries to go well." She chuckled and dabbed at her cheeks with Arthur's house pants. "I guess it was like praying, which I never had use for." The slightest smile edging her lips, she turned to Patricia. "Let's go to Gotham Park and throw some rocks."

~~~~~

The next morning, eleven percent of her worries cast away by a currently sore right arm, Y/N walked past Sherwood Florist, a closet of a shop around the corner from her office. Storefront freshly washed, robust floral arrangements on display in large, spotless windows, and an owner in horn-rimmed glasses checking the temperature of the nearest cooler, she decided to stop in. Yes, the florist told her, an expression of dubious curiosity on his face. They delivered to Arkham. Just include the patient's full name and ward in the address, and it'd be sent this afternoon.

She chose a squat, plastic vase filled with daisies and a yellow enclosure card with a bumblebee in the lower left corner. A bit cutsie for her taste, but it was the only neutral choice among birthdays and congratulations. She pondered what to write, pushing back the urge to ask him to reach out. A minute later, she put her pen to the cardstock. "I miss you like thread misses a needle. (Good thing you're the comedian - that was terrible.) You're not alone in this. You have my whole heart. - Y/N."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara​ @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​ @jokerownsmysoul​ @rafaelbottom​ @ralugraphics​ @iartsometimes​

[diaryofadaringwitch]

College Packing- What They'll Never Tell You to Bring

As a former military kid, boarding school attendee, and four year RA- I have a lot of experience moving around, living in dorms and packing for them. I know that college looks a little different this year, but I figured I'd write down a few things that you won't find on any packing list, as well as bullshit you can leave behind.

1. Bring safety pins, not a sewing kit.

Unless you already know how to sew, don't bother packing a full kit. Safety pins can be used for curtains, creating blanket forts, pinnng bra straps and are way more useful.

2. Don't bring a printer. Just don't.

Printers are incredibly difficult to pack without breaking them, they're hard to fix by yourself, and ink cartriges are a straight up scam. Most campuses have dozens of accessible printers, and 10 cents a page is well worth not having to hassel with your own printer.

3. Bring an interview outfit & a few copies of your resume.

Lots of colleges host job or internship fairs, many host symposiums or public lectures that are free to attend. A big part of college is meeting new people and forming connections- having a professional outfit ready will make a good impression.

4. Bring spices, don't bring a ton of dishes.

If you have a meal plan, you don't need a ton of dishes other than a few for snacks and reheating leftovers. Spices improve pretty much anything, and add variety to otherwise standard cafeteria meals.

5. Bring area rugs- not a carpet.

Some colleges let you buy carpets and have them installed in your rooms in advance, others already have carpeted rooms. Yes, tile can be cold- but it's way easier to clean than carpet.

6. Bring a swiss army knife, not a tool kit.

Lots of packing lists will recommend a tool kit, which is pretty much useless after move in day. A swiss army knife (or generic equivelant) will be able to fix most things & is a lot easier to carry. Bonus- they usually come with a bottle opener. A small flashlight is a good idea too.

7. Bring a first aid kit, but don't go overboard.

Bandaids, cough drops anti-allergy/decongestant, tylenol, anti-nausea, dayquil & nyquil. That's the basics. You can add other things as needed, but don't feel like you have to pack an entire ambulance.

8. Bring a deck of playing cards.

Ordinary playing cards are inexpensive, portable, and can be used for a variety of games. They are especially useful when the power goes out, and make for an easy icebreaker.

Bonus: If you don't menstruate, seriously consider packing a thing of pads or tampons and keeping a few in your backpack/room. You never know if one of your friends might need one, and it's nice to be helpful.

If you have any questions about dorm life or college in general- please let me know, I'd be happy to help!

Brightest blessings- Kate.

[gothamsglam]

How Wonder-land-a-ful!

Transferring to SHIELD high did many things for Tony, one of them was reuniting him with James Rhodes. Just not how he wanted to.

Ever After High/Marvel Fusion. Ironhusbands, of course. (You don't have to know much about Ever After High to read this, think just some fairy tale AU and you'll be fine!)

AO3 LINK IN NOTES

I wanted to churn out one more story for the end of 2020, I thought something more silly would be a great way to end this uh year.

This idea has stuck with me for a while, and I finally wrote it.

Hope you enjoy!!!

~Vix

SHIELD High was so bland . Yes, it was grand of course, structured like the classically large fairy-tale castles of Ever After. The hallways were marble with lockers and vines lining the walls and trees and plants growing willy nilly around the school. Chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and large arched windows showed off the beauty of the lands around them. In the distance, Tony swears he can see Sleeping Beauty’s castle.

But SHIELD high was just bland in comparison to home. To Wonderland . Not even the personalized dorms could make up for the fact that school was all year long— ew , who made that rule—instead of one day a year. Tony missed the nonsensical beauty of SI High, where the hallways ran instead of you, where you had to find the paintbrushes in passing period to paint the doors—free art credits!—, and the cafeteria that was switched with the auditorium.

But the castle-teria at SHIELD was just a long hall with rows and rows of marvel benches, pillars in the corners to honor the greek storylines and pay tribute to the last generation of Fairytale legends.

It was so boring. And just looking at it made Tony want to *poof* right there and then.

“Hi Tony,” Steve Rogers asked, coming behind him in the castle-teria, “Need a place to sit?”

Oh and this, this was another thing Tony wasn’t fond of. Transferring to SHIELD high meant he actually was walking among the children of fairy tale legend.  Disgusting.

Father was too fond of them, far too fond of them. Back when Wonderland and Ever After had many open portals between one another—back before the curse on Wonderland by the Evil Queen of the HYDRA family. Howard was an ambassador , the git.

Howard didn’t get the White Rabbit legacy as Tony did, no, Uncle Jarvis had. Howard was a part of the Wakandan court, one of many peace ambassadors to the other royal families, particularly the ones in Ever After. Oh, the tales Tony was told as a young bunny, of the Rogers Family’s legacy brought forth by the apple, of the Red Hooded Romanoffs, and the Rose pricked Wilsons.

Tony was glad he didn’t have to walk among them at SI High, he was content to only have to see them in the crowd at Legacy day. Tony was actually really excited for Legacy day, his own legacy wasn’t following his father, but rather his mother and Uncle Jarvis. Signing his page in the Storybook of Legends was a milestone Tony didn’t mind looking forward to.

However Tony also understood why James Barnes, heir to the Evil Queen, wouldn’t want to sign. To each their own, he supposes.

But ugh, SHIELD high had too many Princes, he hated it.

His nose twitching, Tony ducked away from Rogers—who was bigger, blonder, and oh the clocks was that a red crown on his stupid head? “Thanks, but no thanks, golden boy. I’ll just—uh—”

He looked out at the rows and rows of tables, at the heads of up-dos and flower pins, and the sea of gelled down curls and impeccable sleeves. Seriously how does no one have a stain on their shirt? It’s mud-loaf day!

There! Out in the crowd, a hand popped out waving him over, Tony grinned, popping up a bit and rushing away from the other guy, “See ya, Rogers!”

“Bye…?”

Resisting the urge to stick out his tongue, Tony padded away with swift steps, the click of his shoes drowned out by the noise of the castle-teria. Reaching the table in the back, he grinned at the sight of familiar friends.

He wasn’t the only one apart of the exchange program of course, in fact, he was the second wave of students, prepared by letters sent by the other students. Tony had his own assigned group of the next exchange student. A lovely little trio of kids. Peter would not stop asking about the royal classes offered at SHIELD and MJ was more interesting in the classes offered by Maria Hill. Tony wouldn’t know, of course, he switched out of those classes the second day after running into pig shit mid-chase. For a house on chicken legs, it was surprisingly very fast.

Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts was donned in swirls of light peach and blue with subtle armor around her waist and shoulders. Her hair was curled, pinned away from her face in a half updo, with the rest falling around her and nearly touching the table as she leaned in to pat the now empty spot across from her.

“Tony!” She exclaimed, freckles dancing across her face as she broke out into a smile, “got lost?” She teased.

Tony blew a raspberry, “Pssht, no, How could I get lost here? Wonderland was more interesting, this place is just boring,” he waved, twirling his fork in his food.

T’challa laughed, the matte gold detailing on his black jacket catching the light beans from the windows, it covered his purple and black card-like patterned dress shirt “That’s what you think, Stark. But with everything looking the same, you’ll pass by the same five classrooms over and over without noticing.”

Tony also laughed, “True. Remember, how—when you missed the upside-down sidewalk outside of bio-mechanics—you could end up in fishing class because of the fountain step? Every time the freshmen would come in dripping halfway through class.”

“Oh, does everyone still call them fish?” Sharon asked, pulling out Earl the dormouse from her empty teacup. He hopped up her shoulder to hide in her mini top hat. Her suit jacket was draped over her shoulders—rather than it being on the bench—and her cream shirt had mini hats detailed, blending in with the folds as it was only a few shades darker.

“Classically,” Tony replied with a wink. They turned back to their conversations, gossiping about their peers such as Maximoff—from Cinderella’s line—who was enamored with Vision—from the hunter’s line. Scandalous.

Tony halfheartedly listened to the discussion but was really on the verge of nodding off. His roommate—Justin Hammer, stupid son of the Cheshire cat—kept playing pranks on him and ruining his things with paint bombs. He almost got a fairy fail in physics because his latest essay had swamp goop over it! He had to stay up rewriting it, which wouldn’t be a problem normally but he had stayed up trying to make weld a new type of gear for his pet project.

Tony must have dozed off for a bit, because when he blinked open his eyes, he was resting on his elbows, folded under some familiar fabric. Blinking blearily at the side of his tray, Tony sat up. Well, that’s embarrassing, so much for his reputation. Pushing a hand through his hair, he avoided glancing around and instead went to look at his lap and pull out his pocket watch. However, someone else reached out to poke his side, resulting in a leap and an ‘eep!’.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty!” Rhodey smirked at him, “I think you and Wilson were supposed to have each other’s destinies. That was some impression you were doing.”

Damn him, Damn it all. Of course , Tony would fall asleep right then and there, drooling over his arms in front of James Rhodes . Of course the first time he’d see the precious son of the Alice bloodline—after literal years in different worlds—would be when he’s conked out in front of his dripping mashed potato tray in the flipping Greek castle-teria. Unbelievable, Tony.

And Rhodes— Rhodey —has the literal audacity to sit there with a playful smirk on his face. Sit there in his v-neck— v-neck!!! —map patterned shirt that should make him look like a dork but he doesn’t , and a necklace that dips over his collarbone —and oh stars —his hair .

Tony really should say something, “Uh—Hi, honey bear?” His voice cracks, because of course, it does.

“Hi, Tones,” Rhodey replies with a smile, and it’s dazzling . Tony just might scream.

Everything is muted, he couldn’t tell you if Pepper and Sharon were still talking, if T’challa had left the table or if lunch was even over. It feels like, for a brief moment, there’s only Rhodey.

Rhodey, who’s turning around to address someone else. Tony also looks away, trying to keep his ears from burning up and turning red.

“Tony, were you drawing in your mash potatoes?” Rhodey looks over, pressing slightly against Tony to peer over at his tray.

Which prompts Tony to dart out and pull the tray towards him with a, “Nooooo?”

Rhodes looks back at him, raising an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Maybe~?”

That prompted a laugh out of him, gaining the attention of Pepper sitting a bit away from them. “Oh, Tony’s still doing that? I thought that was only a Wonderland thing.”

“Hey!” Tony wrinkled his nose and glared at her, silently grateful at the fact that pulled him out of mentally gaping like a fish at his best friend—are they even best friends anymore? Rhodey probably has like a billion of them at SHIELD. “I can do it anywhere. It’s called art.”

“You wouldn’t know art if it slapped you in the face.”

Tony opened his mouth, literally about to say, ‘I mean if Rhodey slapped me in the face I would say he’s art.’ before he’s stopped by the one jellybean of a brain cell in the back of his mind.

Well that and Rhodey’s “If anyone can bring wonder with them to SHIELD, it would be Tony.”

Which, oKAY , Tony needs to stop exploding inwardly and actually say something, “Um, speaking of wonder, does anyone know anything about that one well myth?”

“The well of wonder?” Sharon asked, polling her hand from her mouth where she was probably stifling giggles, which rude, ok.

T’challa also answered, “I believe I might be of help. Why are you asking Tony?”

Tony darted a look at Rhodey—he can’t see his face because he’s looking at T’challa, but he swears that under the table his fist clenches. Weird—before looking at T’challa, “It’s a surprise,” He winked.

And it was! But for Rhodey. He was supposed to have it done pre-meeting him at lunch, but thanks to Hammer he missed his mental deadlines. It wasn’t like he had sought out Natasha Romanoff beforehand to ask about James’ schedule so he could know when they had lunch together or anything, absolutely not.

See—back when in Wonderland—, Tony and Rhodey would galavant about, exploring the lands and falling down many rabbit holes, quite literally. Tony remembers how in his workshop, Rhodey would always love seeing Tony design the swords and spears for the Wonderland card-guards—the Dora Milaje. However what Tony specialized in was watch-making, specifically enchanted watches. Watches with personality, with faces that weren’t just hands and numbers or mini mirror-pods, but near people like. Pixel-faires born of Tony’s creation. DUM-E was his first.

‘You’ was meant for Rhodey, he’d been making them ever since he heard he was chosen for the second era of exchange students. It really shouldn’t have taken so long, but without the wonder of Wonderland and his workshop, it was harder.

So when he heard about the well of wonder, the last remain flow between the two worlds, he knew he had to find it. Too bad it disappeared every night, popping up all over Ever After.

“It would be best to go with someone Tony,” Sharon said, “The well likes to frequent the forest.”

“I could go with you!” Rhodey exclaimed, well not exclaimed, that was just Tony projecting. Mostly... Maybe? No, probably.

“Really?” Tony asked, “You don’t—?”

“It’s my free period anyway," Rhodey shrugged, “Besides you’re already using my jacket, so now you can wear it in the forest too!”

“I—” Tony looks back at the table, and oh.

Oh , that’s what he was sleeping on.

T’challa mentioned stopping by their—his and Rhodey’s—dorm so they can get directions. There’s more regaling of the well, and mentions of seeing Bruce Banner and Thor frequenting the area, which ooo? But all Tony really remembers is seeing Rhodey reaching over, draping his jacket over Tony’s shoulder.

“It’s a date,” Rhodey grinned with a dazzling smile.

~FIN~

So do you like who is who? I didn't recast everyone, but I might continue this AU so maybe I will later down the line! Please let me know what you think in the comments and leave a kudo too! Love you all!!!

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: You Going to Todd’s? (Brick/Blossom)

My Powerpufftober fic! Still rocking the high school AU for this, so consider it a part 5 to the Shooketh, Not Stirred series. As always, can be read alone, but happens in the same universe as part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4. This is also posted on my AO3.

Summary: Brick and Blossom go on a Halloween scavenger hunt. It sucks.

xxx

Blossom checked her watch for the fourth time in ten minutes. It was already a quarter past 9 p.m., her Frankentini was going flat in its plastic neon martini glass, and she was starting to regret coming to Todd’s overhyped Halloween party at all.

“Oh, hey Blossom,” said Harry Pitt, ferrying three bright glasses of the same watered down mixed drink Blossom was too preoccupied to enjoy. “You hanging out?”

Blossom smiled politely. “Hi, Harry. Just waiting for someone.”

Harry’s extra padded shoulders slumped in his pinstripe mafia boss costume. “Oh, let me guess.”

Blossom frowned, a reply on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it when precisely at that moment, Brick stormed through the front door like he was running from a zombie horde and desperate for a weapon. Todd himself spread his arms with a “What, your hairdresser keep you late?” and was almost mowed down with a cursory “Shut up, Todd.” Curiously, Brick made a beeline for the unpopulated second floor. He didn’t even see the other high school Seniors who barely dodged his path. Todd grimaced in his fake vampire fangs and chugged the rest of his beer. “Cool, catch up with you later, bruh!” he said, but no one was listening.

“Sorry, I have to go.” Blossom didn’t have time to feel bad about Harry’s dejected sigh as she ditched her drink and followed Brick upstairs. The Spotify Halloween playlist booming in the speakers faded to a low bass din as Blossom rounded the corner in the upstairs hallway. “Brick?” she called, a little annoyed.

No text, no call. He could have at least told her he’d be late so she could have timed her arrival better. With a mouthful of grievances and a heart full of him, she pushed open the lighted bathroom door at the end of the dark hall. “Brick, did you hear me calling—”

A fluttery and spine-chilling laugh slithered past the crack in the door and sank into her flesh like a snake bite. It arrested her where she stood halfway over the threshold, shackled in the throes of a very specific terror she could never forget.

Brick stood at the pedestal sink, his fingers attempting to fuse with the porcelain as he gripped it hard enough to crack and stared with manic focus at the mirror. All around them, the lyrical voice reverberated:

“Poor, angry boy, there’s yet no end to your suffering! For this next task, I want you on your knees groveling. Hide your tears And sharpen your shears— To save your brothers, make me a true offering.”

Brick snarled at his reflection, as if his demon might appear there in the mirror to throttle. But there was only him in the glass, furious and frothing under his red hoodie. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

It took only a moment for Blossom to shake her stupor as instinct and training took over. “Brick,” she said, crossing the small bathroom to touch him.

Red eyes narrowed at her approach until the moment he recognized her beneath her smeared costume lipstick and dark eyeliner. “Blossom?” he rasped. His surprise made sense when she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror. Crop tops, fake bloodstains, and fishnets weren’t her normal style, but in a parallel nightmare universe perhaps they could have been.

The blushing eighteen-year-old boy in him went straight for her midriff, but his distress stayed his hand. “Fuck.” He rubbed his eyes.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“Nothing, just— Let me get in there.” He reached around her to pull open one of the drawers next to the sink in search of something.

“It’s not nothing.”

He didn’t answer as shut the drawer and checked the one below it.

“Brick, hey. You could have called me—”

With a snarl, he slammed the drawer closed and glared at her. “I was a little busy.”

“Talking to Him?” Blossom held his glare like a hand grenade with her thumb through the pin, ready to pull. “I’d never forget that repulsive lilt. Tell me what’s going on.”

He chickened out of answering her and dove for the drawers on the other side of the sink, where he found what he’d been looking for. Blossom barely had time to question the large scissors he’d pulled out before his hood was down and his man bun toppled into the sink with all the finality of a guillotined head.

Blossom gasped. “Brick!”

Somber as a corpse, he fished out his shorn bundle of hair from the sink, and Blossom watched as it burst into flame in his palm. Smoke curled through his fingers and rose high above them in an angry, red miasma. Its stink was saccharine and brought tears to Blossom’s eyes.

And then, it moved. In swirling, bloody tendrils, it slithered through the cracks above the bathroom door and down the hall as though it had a destination in mind.

“Oh, shit.” Brick dashed after it, and Blossom dashed after him down the stairs. His hand was hot in hers when she caught it and yanked him back. The split second in which their eyes met was an eon of understanding, bone-deep and cauldron-brewed. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked like he needed a friend.

“I’m coming with you,” she said.

“Blossom,” he tried to argue.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Blossom, hey babe, wanna flip some cups on my team?” Todd sidled up to Blossom with a stack of solo cups. Then he noticed Brick’s serrated haircut. “Buddy, what the shit happened to your hair?”

“Please go away,” Blossom said at the same time as Brick said, “Choke on my dick.”

She grimaced at Brick’s vulgarity, but Todd took a step back. Before he could snap back, he noticed the red smoke wafting through his house out the open window. “Oh shit, fire?”

“There’s a fire?!” someone else exclaimed, and panic ensued.

Blossom was about to intervene when Brick snatched her hand and dragged out the front door. “Where did it go?” he said, squinting in the dark.

Blossom swallowed her instinct to calm down her fellow partygoers (there was no fire, they’d be fine, surely…) and looked around for the demonic smoke. “There! It’s heading east.” She rose into the air to fly after it, but paused when she noticed Brick hadn’t followed her. Instead, he jogged down Todd’s cul-de-sac toward the main road. “What are you—hey!”

She landed on the ground in front of him, cutting off his dash. He tried to go around her, but she easily blocked him. It was like he wasn’t even trying to move past her, unless…

“You’re powerless,” she said.

That was the wrong thing to say. “It’s just a temporary setback,” he said in the same choke-on-my-dick tone he usually reserved for Todd.

When he tried to get around Blossom again, she put her booted foot down and cracked the asphalt. He didn’t try to pass her again. “I’m not going to ask you again.” Then, more gently: “Please, let me help you.”

The last of Brick’s petulant pride dissolved to ashes just like his ruined hair she knew he loved, and yet he’d viciously cut it off anyway. Hesitant, yet stubbornly determined, he held her gaze. “It’s Him. He’s fucking with me. Sapped my powers and said my brothers and I will pay the ultimate price unless I solve this idiotic scavenger hunt by midnight.”

“…Wow.”

“Yeah, so it’s not like I have much of a choice.”

Blossom cupped his cheek. His chopped hair was not a total disaster, but it needed cleaning up. All that time he’d spent growing it out again…

Brick sucked in a sharp breath at her tender touch. He was as rigid as a pole, gritting his teeth hard enough to shatter. Blossom’s gaze hardened, and an old but fierce fire ignited in her Super-powered veins. “We’ll beat Him’s game. I promise you. Nothing’s going to happen to you or your brothers.”

Brick let his eyes fall closed as he touched his hand to hers, and that was probably the most intimacy she was going to get out of him in the middle of a murder-y scavenger hunt on Halloween. Maybe after they booted Him back to whatever pit he’d been living in all these years she could salvage what should have been a fun, romantic date with her sort-of boyfriend.

Blossom cleared her throat. “So, evil limericks?”

Brick just groaned from the bottom of his tortured soul. He took her hand and led the way after the demonic smoke before they could lose its trail. The smoke led them to Townsville High School a few blocks from Todd’s, specifically to the annual haunted house experience the Senior class spearheaded every year. Plenty of students dressed in their ghoulish finery crowded in the lawn socializing and lining up to take a turn through the haunted house.

Bubbles was on duty as part of the social committee in charge of managing the exhibit. When she spotted Brick and Blossom headed for the cafeteria door that had been transformed into the haunted house’s black-curtained foyer, she bounced over to them. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you guys here tonight! I thought you were going to Todd’s. Wait, Brick, did you cut your hair?”

“It’s a long story,” Blossom said.

“Whoa! Slow down. You can’t go inside without a costume.” Bubbles blocked Brick’s single-minded steamroll inside after the last of the curling, red smoke slithered past.

“Bubbles, move,” Brick spat.

“No way. You can be a party pooper at Todd’s all you like, but you’re not bringing any of that into my super scary haunted house that I spent all day decorating.”

“I swear to god—”

“Bubbles, do you have any eye liner?” Blossom interrupted before Brick could say something to her sister she would make him regret for the rest of his life.

Bubbles, dressed in glam trash Powerpunk solidarity with her sisters for the night in fishnets and glitter, grinned as she dug in the pockets of her spider web-patterned black tutu. “Great idea, Blossom! C’mere, you.”

“What—hey!” Brick was literally powerless to stop Bubbles from manhandling him into a quick makeover. “There, it’s purr-fect!”

Despite the possibility of Brick’s gruesome end by satanic evisceration looming at the end of the night, Blossom could not help but laugh at the cute nose and whiskers that transformed Brick from grumpy boy to grumpy cat.

The flash on Bubbles’ phone went off.

“Hey!” Brick was redder in the face than his ruined hair.

Bubbles preened as she easily danced out of Brick’s reach before he could nab her phone and delete the evidence. “You look so cute!”

Brick turned to Blossom as his final saving grace, but there were tears in her eyes as she tried to pull herself together. “I’m so sorry, but she’s totally right. You look very cute right now.”

“Fuck this,” he grumbled, bright as a tomato as he shoved past a floating Bubbles and stormed inside the haunted house.

“Oh no—Brick, wait!” Blossom tried to tone down her giggles as she ran after him. “Bubbles, come on, this is actually serious.”

The sisters headed inside to a spooky banshee screams playlist past Ms. Keane’s bubbling cauldron and the football team zombified in a cardboard graveyard, until finally Mr. Green welcomed them to the final stop with a frightful flourish. “Step on up, boys and girls. See your future, if you dare. Mwahahahaha!”

Brick took one look at the over-eager demon teacher and tried to leave. “Maybe I should just let Him kill me while I have some dignity left.”

Blossom caught up to him and slipped her hand in his before he could turn back. The sobering reminder of why they were even here sent a chill all the way to her fingers, and she squeezed his hand in what she hoped was reassurance. “I’m not letting that happen.”

“What’s going on?” Bubbles asked, peering around Blossom’s shoulder.

But Blossom was too preoccupied by the unnatural red smoke swirling around the final, purple-draped room and its sole occupant: Robin Snyder in a truly rocking dead fortune teller costume. “Come in, come in! Let the spirits foretell your Halloween future!”

Bubbles giggled and skipped inside. She planted a very loud, very adorable kiss on Robin’s head.

“Bubbles, what’re you doing in here? You’re supposed to be on welcome duty!” Robin complained, but she reached for Bubbles’ hand and pulled her down into the chair next to her.

“I wanted to see you, obviously!”

Brick’s hand in Blossom’s squeezed uncomfortably tight, and she soon realized why: the red smoke had descended upon the ouija board set up on Robin’s table and absorbed inside it. Bubbles and Robin did not seem to notice it at all.

“All right, let’s get this shit over with,” Brick said, taking one of the empty seats across the table.

“Wow, such enthusiasm,” Robin said flatly.

Blossom took a seat next to Brick and asked their costumed host, “How does this work?”

“It’s a séance. We’ll ask the spirits what we want to know, and the board will do the rest. Everybody put a hand on the planchette.”

The moment everyone’s hands touched the plastic planchette, red smoke bubbled up from beneath it and swirled around them. In a panic, Robin tried to pull away, but found that she couldn’t. Everyone’s hands were stuck to the planchette.

“What—” Bubbles sputtered, but Him’s cotton candy creep show voice slithered from the smoke and stole her breath:

“This clue is not for the fainthearted: Unearth your next destination uncharted. Absent any confession, To the board pose your question And divine who among you just farted!”

“What the hell was that?!” Robin said at the same time as Bubbles wailed, “Oh nooooo!”

Before Blossom could respond to Robin’s very reasonable question, her arm was yanked across the board still stuck to the planchette: “B”.

Brick’s smoky cat-eyes were wide and slightly manic as he looked at Blossom, and she looked at him. She flushed so badly that she nearly swallowed her own tongue to say, “It wasn’t me!”

“Well, it sure as shit wasn’t me,” he shot back. And then, understanding dawning, they both looked across the table.

“Bubbles?” Blossom said.

“I DON’T WANT TO PLAY THIS GAME ANYMORE!” she screeched.

“Bubbles definitely farted,” Brick deadpanned. He dragged the planchette and everyone’s hands still stuck to it toward the “U” and then back to the “B” until the board spelled out Bubbles’ name. As soon as the planchette settled on the “S”, it released everyone’s hands in time for the heady, red smoke to engulf the board entirely.

Bubbles, distraught, shot out of her chair and covered her eyes in shame.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Robin tried to coax her back down from the high corner she’d flown to. “Come on down from there—Bubbles, really, I can’t even smell anything!”

“You’re just saying that because you love me!” Bubbles complained.

“Oh my god,” Blossom said, too preoccupied with the board to worry about her sister’s mortification. “Is that—”

“A map of the city?” Brick finished her sentence.

The ouija board was transformed into a mini map of Townsville, if a preschooler had drawn it in crayon.

“Here we are at THS.” Blossom pointed her finger to a collection of buildings scribbled in blue crayon. “And here…” She followed a crosshatch path to the edge of the map where a horned, red, devil face sticker grinned up at her. “The cemetery.”

Brick stood up so fast his chair fell over. He stood there for half a second, his face screwed up, and then: “Goddamnit!”

He’d forgotten he couldn’t fly.

“I can carry you.” Blossom held out her hand.

“Is everything okay in here? Robin, the next group is waiting.” Mr. Green poked his horned head through the thick drapes and sniffled. “Ew, what’s that smell?”

“Oh my god!” Bubbles turned beet red and disappeared in a flash of blue, knocking down the rest of the chairs and Brick too, if Blossom hadn’t caught his elbow before he could break his nose on the tiled floor.

“Bubbles! Sorry, Mr. Green.” Robin dashed after her.

“Wait just a minute—”

In the chaos, Blossom let Brick slip out of her grip, and he stormed out the opposite door back outside.  

“What are you doing?” Blossom asked when he stopped at the sidewalk.

“Calling a Lyft.”

“I just said I can fly us both.”

“Hard pass.”

Blossom crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong with it? Flying would be faster, and it’s free.”

“I’m not letting you carry me like some damsel in distress.”

“Honestly, Brick. There’s a demon threatening to kill you and you’re worried about your masculinity?”

“No, I mean—look, this isn’t your problem, okay?”

“You did not just say that to me.”

He scowled so deeply that it should have given her pause, but the painted whiskers somewhat ruined his menace. He clenched his phone hard enough to crack if he’d still had his powers. “I didn’t mean it like I don’t want you here.”

Blossom materialized inches from his face in an unnecessary display of power that nonetheless felt fantastic. “That’s better.”

Brick flushed, but not from anger. When she slipped her hand over his, he eased his grip and relinquished his abused phone.

“That’s better,” she said again, more honey than venom this time.

Like hell was she going to send him off to his possible doom alone, powerless and with a really bad haircut painted like a cat.

“Blossom, I’m—”

Her kiss shut him up, and with it any further excuses to go it alone. And despite his increasingly desperate situation, he kissed her back like he’d never get the chance to again.

A car horn honked. “Hey, are you Brick?” asked an older guy in a Honda Civic with a fuzzy, pink mustache attached to the front bumper.

Brick very briefly broke their make-out session to reply, “No,” and then tightened his arms around Blossom’s waist and got right back to it.

The Lyft driver squinted between the profile picture on his phone and Brick. “Wait, really?”

“Never heard of the guy,” he mumbled against her lips, proving that if she wanted to get something done, she’d have to do it herself.

Blossom rolled her eyes and removed his hands from her. Before he could do anything about it, she hoisted him onto her back and hooked her arms under his knees. “Come on, let’s go thwart your imminent murder.”

The Lyft driver watched them take off in a blur of pink. “Goddamn teenagers.”

He canceled the Lyft order and left Brick a one star rating, which was probably fair.

xxx

When Blossom touched down near the entrance to the graveyard, it was back to business. “How much time do we have?”

Brick checked his phone. “About an hour and a half.”

She jogged to keep up with his longer stride as they made their way deeper into the graveyard. “Okay, that’s plenty of time to figure this out.”

A peal of laughter stopped them in their tracks on the gravel path for the split second it took them both to recognize that particular manic cadence.

“Butch,” Blossom said at the same time as Brick said, “Motherfucker.”

Beyond a small hill near the base of a huge oak tree, Brick’s brothers, Buttercup, and Mike Believe sat among the granite tombstones with a pillowcase full of candy passing a joint around. Buttercup had just blown a smoke ring in the shape of a star.

“Bitch, I’m too stoned for this fucking tongue witchcraft,” Butch said. He made an appropriately chilling sight all in black with his face painted black and white in the design of a skull.

“Hey, can you blow a heart?” Boomer asked.

“You sap.” But Buttercup took another drag and hopped off the tombstone she’d been sitting on. Moonlight glinted off the spikes on her black leather jacket as she reeled back and blew three perfect, concentric hearts from her red-painted lips.

Boomer sat up from his place under Mike’s arm and snapped a picture on his phone. “You officially have the greatest special power out of all of us, no contest.”

Mike laughed and accepted the joint when Buttercup passed it to him. “I’m gonna have to agree with that one.”

“That’s because you’re one hundred percent whipped,” Butch said.

Mike shrugged. “Eh.”

“Buttercup.” Blossom approached her sister. “You’re smoking here? What if someone catches you?”

“Somebody just did,” Boomer said under his breath.

“Damn, Blossom, you girls doing a three-way theme tonight?” Butch slipped off the tombstone he’d been draped over to admire her fishnets and then Buttercup’s matching set. “I like it.”

“Give me that.” Brick took the joint from Mike and snuffed it out under his foot.

“Whoa, whoa,” Mike said. He stood up, and at his full height in a 1920s-style adventurer’s costume, he was a Sight™ to behold, if Blossom was being completely honest.

“Brick, what’s the matter?” Boomer peered around Mike in his homemade mummy costume. “And why the hell are you wearing cat makeup?”

“Oh shit, he is,” Buttercup said with a snort.

Before Brick could lose his temper, Blossom said, “Brick, the clue. We don’t have all night.”

“What clue?” Boomer asked. He peered at them seriously. “What’re you two doing here, anyway?”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to Todd’s,” Mike said.

“Todd’s parties blow,” Buttercup said.

Blossom ignored them. “Something about unearthing a destination uncharted. What could it mean…?”

Brick made for quite the adorable pensive cat as he considered. He seemed to come to the answer at the same time as Blossom.

“No,” Blossom said. “There’s no way.”

“We’re going to have to,” Brick said. “What else could it mean?”

“It’s extremely illegal.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fucking cursed!”

“We can’t dig up a bunch of graves!”

“Wow, so that’s what that creepy limerick meant?” Robin approached the group with Bubbles looking windblown and totally ready to get her hands dirty digging up some goddamned graves.

“Bubbles,” Blossom said. “Look, I’m sorry about before—”

“This is Him’s doing,” Bubbles said flatly. “I recognized the voice when I calmed down and we followed you here. Just tell me what the plan is.”

“Did you say Him?” Boomer said soberly.

Buttercup put her hands up. “Okay, what the fuck is going on?”

Brick pulled down his hoodie and revealed his ridiculous haircut. “This is what the fuck’s going on.”

Boomer looked close to tears at the sight of Brick’s mangled hair.

“Him cursed Brick, and we have to solve a scavenger hunt before midnight or he and his brothers will pay the ultimate price,” Blossom said.

“The ultimate price?” Mike said, aghast.

“What the fuck.” Butch advanced on Brick. “What bullshit did you get us into this time—”

Blossom materialized in between Brick and Butch before the latter could carry out whatever violence he intended. She tapped him hard on the chest, and he stumbled back, probably too stoned to hold his normal balance against her Super strength. “Not today, Butch. Him took Brick’s powers.”

“Shit,” Boomer said. Blue sparks jumped in between his toilet paper-wrapped fists. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

Blossom looked to Brick, who was clearly outnumbered and they both knew it. With a groan, he ran his hands through what was left of his poor hair. “We’ll split up,” he said.

“And do what?” Buttercup said.

“Somewhere here, there’s bound to be a clue left by Him. I know that’s not a lot to go on, but it’s all we’ve got right now,” Blossom said. “Split up and cover as much ground as possible.”

“And what are we looking for?” Robin asked.

“Red smoke, demonic laughter, a general feeling of imminent disembowelment,” Brick said.

Bubbles cracked her knuckles and tightened her pigtails. “The usual, then.”

“Fuckin’ right.” Butch began to crackle with pent up green power.

With four other Supers plus Mike and Robin helping cover ground, Blossom hoped they could at least glean some inkling of what Him’s last clue meant. She stayed with Brick since he didn’t have his powers anymore, and together they wandered deeper into the graveyard. Lampposts along the gravel path cast a saturnine glow amidst the trees, fey and eerie on this most eerie of nights.

“Blossom,” Brick said softly. “If we don’t figure this out before midnight—”

“We will,” Blossom said.

He stopped, and Blossom turned to look back at him. Even powerless, there was a presence in his red eyes, beyond mortal and brimming with fire. Even as enemies, even when she couldn’t stand to breathe the same air as him, she had recognized that counterpoint in him, that tranquil confidence that there was nothing in this world he couldn’t overcome. It was a part of him and no one, not even Him, could take it away.

“But if we don’t,” he pressed.

Blossom’s throat wrenched to see him so calm. Not much scared Brick, not truly, but his softness spoke volumes here where only ghosts could hear them. Go, his eyes entreated her, forget about me and go before it gets you too.

She marched up to him and placed her hand on his chest. Ice froze her breath to mist as her anger clawed its way out of her, and she let him see it. “Then Hell will tremble to watch me drag you back out.”

Brick said nothing. He slipped his hand over hers and curled his fingers. Even now, he was far warmer than anyone she had ever known, and she clung to that certainty.

“Come on,” Blossom said, pulling him along after her. “Let’s solve this so we can go home.”

They followed the floating lamp lights east. Fog gathered at their feet, heavy and strange, but Brick held her hand, and secretly she was grateful not to be alone in such a creepy place. When a laughter they both wished they didn’t recognize reached them on the wind, Blossom’s heart leaped into her throat and she took off running with Brick hot on her heels.

The cachinnation petered out when they came across a man in a grey uniform and hat with a flashlight. “Hey, what’re you kids doing here?”

“We were just—” Blossom began.

“Enough,” Brick said, stepping forward. He put an arm out to block Blossom’s path. “I know it’s you.”

“Brick,” Blossom said.

“Son, I don’t know what you mean,” the graveyard worker said.

Brick ignored him. “I played your shitty game. This is the end. Stop hiding behind that pathetic mask and show yourself.”

The portly graveyard worker dropped his flashlight with a heavy crunch on the gravel. Watery, blue eyes bled to baleful red, and his pasty cheeks stretched to accommodate a smile far too wide for his human face. A low chuckle built deep in his chest like termites in a kicked mound, bubbling up through his throat to bursting.

“H͓̼̯ḭ̠̣d͜i̞᷊̯᷂͜n̨͇͟g̤̱͓,̼͎ a̮m̱̪̫͚͢ I̤̜̗?̨̞ T̨̳̻̜h͚̟̖̜͢a͖̻̠̜͇t̨̹ s͖i̹ṃp̨̟͈͕͢ļy̢͔͜ w̨̱o͈̜̟̠͟n̹̮̖’̳̝t̮ d̪̟̪̝o̹̠.͕̫̙̩”

The booming, sinister voice came from that mouth full of teeth, but it seemed to grow out of Blossom’s bones. She felt it in her lungs, her fingertips, as a tingle on her lips Brick had kissed. And she remembered he was vulnerable, under attack by this very thing standing before them now masquerading in a meat sack.

Well, screw that.

Blossom lowered Brick’s wrist and stepped around him. No matter how hard he pushed against her, he was no match for her power—power she leaked now like gasoline fumes hungry for a spark. The gravel at her feet froze, and her eyes faded to ghastly pink as she faced her childhood nightmare. “Hello, demon,” she said.

“Y̹o̬͟u̢̡̳.”

The lampposts flickered and popped, plunging the earthly ossuary into chilling shadows, but Blossom did not fear the cold. Her fists frosted over as she clenched them, and her step summoned an ice floe in the gravel that bridged the crevasse between her and the coward who dared to haunt Brick and his brothers on her watch.

“Well?” she said. “I’m waiting.”

His meat sack shrank back. This was no child Him was taunting, but a fully realized Super who was no longer afraid of his mind games. He closed that heinous mouth and cleared his throat with a dainty, sausage-fingered hand over his heart, and recited in Him’s more lyrical pitch:

“You’ve served all night at my gracious pleasure. Now the final test to determine your true measure: Find the lady who slumbers In her crypt sunk in umber. X marks the location of my precious treasure.”

No sooner had Him given them their last absurd clue than the graveyard worker seized and fell to his knees. Blossom dashed to catch him before he could injure himself. The man coughed and wheezed as if he’d held his breath for too long.

“What in tarnation…?” he muttered, dazed.

“Sir, you had a dizzy spell. You’re all right now,” Blossom said, clinically calm as she discreetly checked him for signs of blood or other wounds. She found none. “Maybe you should take a break.”

“Who… Hey, you kids shouldn’t be here!”

Brick growled and grabbed Blossom’s elbow to haul her back up. “Let’s go.”

“Take it easy, sir,” Blossom said, and let Brick drag her along before the man could think to call security on them.

When they were out of earshot, Brick whirled on her like he was about to get scary, but she held up a hand for silence.

“Before you get mad, I was just trying to—”

His kiss was not as unexpected as she once may have thought it would be. Feverish, frantic, like a boy about to die in twenty-odd minutes, sure, but not unexpected. “Fuck, Blossom,” he panted when they parted for a breath.

Blossom’s heart swelled at his raw emotion on full display, as rare as it was true, and she almost lost herself in it. But they had work yet to do. She tucked his too-long bangs behind his ear.

“So, a lady who slumbers,” she said. “I’m guessing it’s a special statue.”

“A crypt sunk in umber,” Brick said, licking his lips. “A mausoleum, maybe.”

“That narrows it down, for sure. Must be older if it’s sinking.”

“I saw a map of the cemetery at the entrance.”

Blossom grinned and put her fist in the air. She fired a pink blaster that lit up the night sky and would summon their siblings soon. “Let’s check it out.”

He didn’t complain this time when she carried him on her back for a speedy trip back to the entrance and a quick check of the map. There were four mausoleums in the cemetery.

“Found something, Leader Girl?” Buttercup, Butch, Bubbles, and Robin were the first to catch up to the Reds, and Blossom filled them in just as Boomer returned with Mike.

“Four mausoleums? Sounds like we need to split up again,” Mike said.

“If you find anything, send a signal,” Brick said.

Chance. Brick’s and his brothers’ lives were up to the one-in-four chance that they would find the right crypt. All around them, Him’s lollipop laughter followed them like a demented poltergeist.

“This isn’t it!” Brick slammed a fist against the innermost tomb in their chosen mausoleum. “There’s nothing here.”

Blossom was about to respond to that when a bright, blue spark crackled in the air. Boomer and Mike had found something. “Hurry!”

The mausoleum Boomer and Mike had picked was guarded by a lichen-infested statue of a woman with angel wings in a bed of grassless, brown soil, so dark it could have been umber in daylight. Bubbles, Robin, and the Greens arrived soon after Blossom and Brick charged inside.

“Check it out.” Boomer indicated the innermost tomb carved with two crossed sabers.

“X marks the spot,” Mike said grimly. “Oh crap, it’s almost midnight!”

“Move!” Brick tried to push the crypt open, but it was too heavy for him, so Blossom helped. The heavy stone slab groaned when she pushed it, and a plume of foul, red smoke burst from the opening.

Him’s maniacal laughter rose with the smoke that swirled on the domed ceiling and opened two glowing eyes and a cheshire smile. “My my, cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?”

Bubbles shoved her phone at the unholy miasma. “It’s midnight! We beat your stupid deadline, see?”

“Bubbles, please don’t antagonize the ancient evil,” Robin whispered nervously.

“Technically, Blossom met the deadline since Brick was too weak to open the tomb,” Him crooned.

“You took my powers!” Brick said.

Him’s sinister smile fell. “Oh…did I? My bad. Here you go.”

The red smoke converged on Brick and passed through him with the force of a sword through the gut, and he collapsed to his knees in a circle of fire, gagging. Bubbles and Boomer were lightning fast as they swept Robin and Mike as far away from the conflagration as possible.

“Butch, shield!” Blossom commanded, and Buttercup shoved him so hard he tripped and crashed against his own hastily-erected shield bubble. It contained the explosion of power well enough to keep the mausoleum standing.

“Tsk tsk tsk, this won’t do. All I wanted was to play a little father-son game with you, and you had to drag your girlfriend into it. Parenting is so hard these days. I’ll just have to teach you boys a lesson.”

Blossom’s heart twisted. If Him was truly serious about killing Brick and his brothers, he would have to go through her first.

“Like hell,” Buttercup spat, her fists glowing green.

Brick got to his feet groggily. He looked like he just survived a bad case of seasickness.

Him burst out laughing. “Choice words, Buttercup. Now boys, time to pay the ultimate price!”

The tomb lid slid to the ground on unseen forces, revealing the horror within. Blossom readied her pink blasters, and her sisters did the same. Brick took one look in there and recoiled. “What the fuck—”

When no hellspawn burst from the tomb to attack, Blossom approached and peered over the edge. Inside were hundreds of polaroids of young children in dresses with their hair styled as they posed like Victorian paintings. Blossom reached for one.

Buttercup burst out laughing. “Holy shit, is this you?!” She had two polaroids in her hands as she flapped them in Butch’s face.

“Give me those!” Butch snarled.

“Wow,” Robin said, torn between hysteria and horror as she gawked at a picture of six-year-old Butch with bunny clips in his hair wearing a frilly white dress. “Wait until my therapist hears about this.”

In the picture Blossom had selected, Brick’s hair was expertly braided over his shoulder as he sat on a stone throne surrounded by candelabras and horned skulls in a flowing, white dress. He did not look happy to be there. He looked even less happy to behold this childhood shame years later.

“I burned those,” he said in a voice from beyond the grave to no one in particular.

“I made copies!” Him sang. “And now, all of Townsville will get to see you in your pageantry finest!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Butch screeched as Buttercup took off flying with a fistful of polaroids laughing her ass off. “Get back here!”

“You know, I think I look pretty cute in these, actually,” Boomer said.

Mike laughed. “Yeah, you totally do.”

“This is what you meant by paying the ultimate price?” Blossom asked the incorporeal demon head floating above them.

Him grinned. “Why, of course. Oh! You didn’t think I would murder my own sons, did you?”

The sinister glint in those yellow eyes told a very different story, one that may have ended poorly if she hadn’t forced Brick to involve her in whatever was going on.

Or maybe Him was just bored of his perpetual existence in a hellish void where a cute photoshoot with his re-spawned Super sons was the most exciting thing that had happened in a millennium, and he was feeling nostalgic.

The tomb erupted in flames all of a sudden when Brick breathed fire over all the polaroids.

Bubbles gasped. “Brick! Those were a work of art, how could you?!”

Brick glared at her with glowing, red eyes. “We’re never speaking of this again. Give me those.” He snatched the photos Robin was holding and burned them too.

Blossom hastily pocketed the picture she’d nabbed of baby Brick before he could notice.

Him disappeared in a swirl of smoke and laughter. “Happy Halloween! Remember to brush your teeth…”

“I can’t believe I came all the way here for this,” Robin said. “Literally, the weirdest shit is always happening to you guys. Can we just have a normal Halloween, like, one time? Just once?”

Boomer laughed. “Tall order, Robin.”

A loud explosion outside told Blossom the Greens’ fighting was going too far, as usual.

“Brick? What’re you doing?” Blossom asked as she and the others followed him outside.

“Helping Butch destroy the evidence your sister stole.” He took off in a blaze of red.

“What a killjoy,” Bubbles pouted.

Blossom bit her lip and revealed her pilfered polaroid. Bubbles’ smile turned downright sinister as she greedily snatched it. “Blossom, I love you.”

“That’s for emergencies only. I mean it, or he’ll kill me.”

Boomer threw an arm around her shoulders and grinned. “Nah, he’d never turn on his girlfriend.”

Bubbles gasped. “Oh my gosh, you’re right!”

Blossom flushed. “But we’re not exactly—”

“Him said it, so it’s gotta be official by now,” Boomer teased.

“Ooh, true. There’s nothing more official than a primordial force of chaos acknowledging your relationship status,” Mike said.

“Hey, you damn kids! You’re not supposed to be here!” shouted the no-longer-possessed groundskeeper from before. He had a shovel that he shook at Brick, Butch, and Buttercup locked in a game of cat and mouse as the brothers tried to reclaim the evidence of their dignity.

“Time to go,” Blossom said.

“Hey, party at Todd’s?” Mike asked.

“Great idea!” Bubbles chirped as she gave Robin a leg up onto her back.

As Blossom found herself back at the same party where she’d begun the night on the sofa next to Buttercup regaling everyone who would listen with the story of Butch’s child beauty pageant past (sans evidence because Brick had managed to burn it, unfortunately), she found her gaze drawn back to Brick. He was up getting them drinks, his haircut cleaned up thanks to Boomer, snickering at something Mike had said.

“Blossom, where are you going?” Bubbles asked when she got up.

“Just going to talk to Brick,” she said. “Officially.”

Bubbles lit up and grabbed the nearest hand to crush her feelings into, which happened to be Butch’s. “What the—ow, woman, let go!”

Brick saw her coming and stared at her growing smile like the baffled teenager he was underneath it all. With all their friends’ eyes on her, she walked right up to him and kissed him in front of everyone.

Let them see, she thought. Let anyone who was watching and biding their time to strike see, and let them try.

Lyrical laughter echoed somewhere on the edges of hearing over their friends’ laudatory cheers and loud calls for celebratory shots, but Blossom tuned it out as she smiled into her kiss.  

xxx

Like Boomer, I am a sap who loves a happy ending. Reds are finally official in this AU?! Took us long enough. Also, I always saw Him as this weird dichotomy of ancient murder-y evil and chaotic good mom. I feel like trolling the Boys would be a favorite past time of his. Might write more Him in the future and explore that more.

Happy Halloween y’all. Get spooky, and stay safe!

[the-headbop-wraith]

2_28 Pit Fall

There was something inherently creepy about schools after hours.  Once all the teachers had departed their homes and their lives, the children’s voices now vacant from the long empty halls.  Sounds rose about when there should be no utterance; creaks in the tall walls, the rattle of the heating ducts generating a hospitable environment for the lingering abandonment, the scuttle of pages on a desk.  A school was a place meant for inhabitance, it should be alive with laughter, voices, excitement.  It should be filled with life.

But not at night, in the slow treading hours post dusk.

The cafeteria was expansive, with a stage to the opposite end of the kitchen/serving station. For the evening’s janitorial service, all chairs were flipped and set seat down on the table tops.  Three emergency exits were strategically built on three accessible walls of the lunchroom, one was the entrance on the far side of the cafeteria where students filed in from one main hall, and the second was adjacent to the kitchen itself, its bright words EXIT gleam a harsh green in the blue haze of the shade studded room.  

A last pair of escape doors was built into the opposite wall near the performance stage, where the left wing of the sloping ramp descended from the stage top. Hanging high on the wall beside the double doors rested a large tak board, an abundance of notices and cautionary signs pinned with colorful pins.  Most notably, the many pictures of children in black and white, some photo copies in color with information typed beneath the print.  

Yellow light flashes across the deep maroon curtain hanging beside the stage.  The fabric sways in some draft, or reluctance to the light disturbing its rest.  Arthur doesn’t like it.  The fabric reminds him… reminds him of things he wants to forget.  His good hand fumbles around in his pocket, tracing the crinkled edge of the box there.  He moved his torch beam over the surface of the photos slowly.  He twists away from the images and accusations and moves back to the blue figure huddled over a laptop, she and the machine seated on the edge of a long table, the chairs removed from the tables top were returned to the floor.

“None of the kids really have anything in common, only that they’re not over twelve,” Vivi murmurs. She scrolls through her grid block tab filled with information, names, dates; the blue light of the screen slithers across her face and gloved hand.  The touch pad doesn’t work if she wears the gloves, though form fitting they are, and very stylish.  “But I’m able to adjust my search, and find out what days of the month kids have gone missing.  Try and narrow it down.  Hmm?”

Dimitri slipped closer to the table Vivi sat upon, and looked at the screen.  “Five have gone missing since me,” he uttered.  “Five.”

“We haven’t even started,” Vivi says.  “There’s this one area on the edge of town, where people have mentioned seeing kids prior to their disappearance.  District… Flower?  What was that name?  Hold on.”

“Maybe it is the Slender-man then,” Arthur muttered.  He moved away from the high board with the pictures of happy children— once happy, locked now in a time of carefree innocence.  Some of the pictures had come loose from the board from the overuse of pins, and now lay on the floor at the walls base.  “We have about fifteen to twenty minutes.”  He shifts the flashlight beam from his pocket watch to the table, and pockets the watch.  “Did you say you moved here?”

Dimitri stared at where the light hit the table, forming a golden halo.  He barely realized then that the group used color coordinated flashlights.  “Yeah,” he mumbled, distracted.  “When my dad divorced.”  He looked at Arthur, as the other swung his torch away and set the light beneath his chin.  Dimitri winced, Arthur looked creepy with the blue of the moonlight and the cold empty windows as a backdrop.

“Then I will be impetuous and conclude, your brother is half-brother?” said Arthur.  Vivi snapped her head up, her bright glasses glinting under the light of the computer.  She had that look that could kill – if a minor were not present.

Dimitri only nodded, unperturbed.  “Uh-huh. Some kid tried teasing me about it, and I punched them in the face.”

“That’s… very Noble of you,�� Vivi says, glancing up at the boy.  “But you shouldn’t hit people at your age.  Wait until you’re older.”  Arthur choked on whatever he was about to say.  “Time, Art?”

“We still have some. I’ll let you know.”  Arthur pulled out his pocket watch anyway, soothing kinked nerves with the slow tick of the moving minute hand.  

“It’s showing up here,” Vivi mentioned, pointing a gloved finger.  She scrolled down the grid she compiled of the updated information ‘gathered.’  She tapped at the keypad and began nodding to herself, a half glimpse to the screen as the text reloaded.  “You’re right.  That given, we know that whatever takes the kids, only takes those who are native born. Clear matches.”

“Adults aren’t— ” Arthur shut his mouth, and jerked his light in the direction of the kitchen, where vague noises echoed from.  A creak and low humming, probably the refrigerator unit kicking into gear.  He took a breath, and tightened his gloved hand into a fist around the fabric of his pants leg.  “Elders don’t seem bothered.  None disappear?”

“Whatever it is, it’s not interested in them,” Vivi reflects.  “It just doesn’t want interference.  Or maybe they are affected but mildly, I dunno, subdued?  They don’t completely forget, the extent is ‘lost interest’?”  Dimitri crossed his arms over his chest and frowned Vivi’s way, but she took no notice; she was fully engrossed with the laptop.  She pressed a fist to her lips and thought, humming softly to herself.  “It can’t worry over adults getting suspicious, awful as that sounds it won’t risk removing those past their teen years.  What would its motive be in taking the children then?”

Dimitri climbed up on top of the table and stood before the computer, and Vivi bathed in the hazy light.  “You still think there’s something unnatural going on around here, huh?” he hissed, fists clenched at his sides.

“We’re open minded,” Vivi states, looking up at him.  “What’d you say?  ‘The authorities in charge of finding the kids gave up because they are the abductors?’ It’s possible.”  She began typing, fast, and raised her shoulders.  “Maybe the parents forget because there’s something in the water?  A sedative? Those are all possibilities.  Is that what you want to hear?”

Arthur slunk back over to the table, the light of his torch aimed at his shoes.  “We don’t seem affected.”

Vivi snaps at him, “When do we ever drink water?”

Arthur paused, as if he never considered that fact.  “Oh.  Right.”

Dimitri sighed, and brought his hands up to his head and tugged at his hair.  He supposed it didn’t matter what they thought, as long as they were looking.  The Mystery Skulls were his only hope.  Still, he wished Lewis was back from wherever he had gone.  It worried him when Vivi and Arthur never mentioned him, and when/if they did it felt similar to how adults lie – negotiating lies- to sooth upset toddlers.  Dimitri didn’t like to be treated like a kid, they didn’t give him enough credit. Lewis did.  “Where do we go, then?” Dimitri mumbled.

Vivi fumbled with the orphaned glove that lay on her lap, and studied the screen.  Dimitri edged forward and saw the familiar layout of Google maps.  Vivi was frowning.  “I only have an obscure lead on—” She glanced Arthur’s way, when Arthur spun around and held up a hand.  For a tense moment they were quiet as Arthur tilt his head down and listened.  Without a word, he motioned hastily for the two at the table to move.  Vivi shut the laptop gently and she slings off her backpack.

Not long after they had everything gathered – the laptop packed away, the chairs replaced atop the table – the three were mobile and ready to exit.  Before Arthur could open the exit door, Mystery’s clinking paws scuttled from the darkness, he gave a few gruff barks as he darted by the group and kept going, weaving among the table legs.  Arthur caught Dimitri by the shoulder and nudged the smaller figure towards Mystery’s flashing outline.  Rather run all the way around a table, Dimitri dropped to his hands and knees and crawled after the dog.  

Arthur followed the path of the two with his flashlight. “Shit,” he cursed.  “We should still have time.”

“D!” Vivi hissed. “Let me and Arthur go first.”  She followed close behind Dimitri, her flashlight darting around seeking Mystery.  “The curfew might have made the response faster.  Focus on keeping our heads, and not get caught.  That would very much not work out in our favor.  Stay close Dimitri.”  As the group moved, Mystery picked up the pace, his shallow ‘ruffs’ gave indication of where he had winked out through the shadows.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Arthur hissed.  “Why do I ever let you talk me into this?  I know the outcomes gonna be bad.  I never learn.”  

“You’re a supportive friend,” Vivi reminds.  “And you wouldn’t forgive yourself if something bad happened to us.”  Arthur gave a rather theatrical groan.

They reach one exit on the far side of the cafeteria, the doors locked with a heavy chain and padlock.  Vivi takes Arthur’s flashlight as Arthur begins to pad down his pants pockets.

Mystery yips at him.

“I’m hurrying.  Don’t rush me.”  Arthur locates his lock pick kit and selects the sharp along with a toggle, he clenched the sharp tool between his teeth and grips the padlock in his good hand.  The tool clicks in the mechanism, but he lets out a low grunt through his teeth. “Damn.”

“Hold the lights, D.” Vivi passes the flashlights over to Dimitri, then takes Arthur’s arm and elbow between her hands.  Arthur mutters a ‘thanks’ as he spun the point in the keyhole of the padlock.  When the padlock clicks, Arthur rips the chain away.  Vivi jumps up, pulling the deadbolt in the top of the door free and charges forward, shoving the door latch and forces one door open.  “Stay behind me.”

“K?” Dimitri mumbles, as Vivi tugs his arm along.  Dimitri hands one torch to Vivi, and aims his light onto the polished surface of the floor.  Behind them, Arthur tossed his tools into the case and shoved it in his pocket.  “But what happens if we get caught?”  His face warmed a bit when Vivi gripped his free hand. It was beyond embarrassing, but he kind of didn’t mind.  

Vivi gave a little laugh but didn’t look back at him.  “Caught? Who gets caught?” she chuckled.

“Oh?”  Dimitri decided Vivi was cool.  She went on crazy adventures, broke into buildings at night, evaded the police, and she had an awesome dog.  Why couldn’t more girls be like her?

Mystery hung back as Arthur dragged the door shut.  “If they find that chain there,” Arthur grumbled.  Mystery yipped at him.  “Hey, wait! You got the light!  Hold on!”

“Think you can keep up?” Vivi whispered.  She released Dimitri’s hand.  “Don’t fall behind.  Arthur! Hurry!  You‘re setting a bad example.”

“You’re making too much noise.” hissed the mechanic.  He fell in pace behind Dimitri, Mystery to his side bouncing and yapping.  The flashlights weren’t necessary to guide them, even if they were not exploring a linear hall, moonlight drenched the row of windows beside them.  Sleek polished floors reflected streaks of silver across white washed walls, and the redirected light flooded the interior corridor. The walls that concealed the classrooms were decorated typical Grade school style, with numerous large boards tacked to the plaster and each filled with colorful pictures, typed and written essay papers.  Arthur could see out onto the open road ventured over earlier that day, the bright lawns coated in crystalizing frost in the falling temperature.  Another patrol car went by, a head lamp flashed across the large windows—

“Duck!”  Arthur threw himself to the floor.

Vivi snagged Dimitri before he could take off, and slid down to her knees as Arthur belly flopped. On the walls of pictures and schoolwork, the light slid by tracing the dark outlines of pages, a rogue breeze rustled a few papers at their base.  Vivi waits and watched the light gingerly scan over the wall, as if inspecting the labors of children. “Let’s keep moving,” she murmurs.  “Stay low.  There should be doors at the end of the hall.”

“At the end,” Arthur cues in.  “Might be an office, or library, some sort of intersection?  Dimitri, you know where you are?”

The boy nods, though the others can’t see it in the dark space below the window.  “This is the Kinder side.  The doors at the end here lead out to the playground.  Heh, I feel like a criminal.”

“Sorry about that,” Vivi hums.  “I wasn’t really thinking about how bad of a mess we can be in, if we get caught with you.”

“I told you!” Arthur ranted, throwing his arm up. “You never listen!”  His metal arm made a dull thump when it came down, the glove he wore dampening its odd sounds.

“I take everything you say into consideration,” Vivi says, gently.  “Besides, were not novices, we won’t get caught.”  Arthur just growled to himself, muttering what sounded like ‘coats‘.  “When we get outside, we’ll need to stick to the shadows and time when it’s clear.  We can’t go back to the van right away.  We have to be strategic about this.”

“You do this often?” Dimitri whispered.

Arthur muttered, growled something.  “That’s… confidential.”  Dimitri didn’t ask anymore after that.

The large doors were in an alcove, where the group could stand without too much concern of being seen from the road, as Arthur picked the lock.  Once the doors were open, Dimitri cast a last glance to the hall. He’d never been in this section before, except under special occasions.  He shook himself and turned to join the others in the brisk night.

It’s cold.  Colder than the night before, the sky absolutely baron of the clouds from the evening past.  Dimitri watches his breath fades in the air.  The school had been shielded and heated from the night after hours ended, and now he missed it.  He didn’t care if they got caught.  As long as he could be warm for a bit longer; ride in a patrol car.  But… his brother might be cold too.  Wherever he was, he would be scared too, and there was no way of knowing if he was warm, safe, comfortable.  They couldn’t stop, not when they were close.  He could feel it this time.

“Give me the light.” Vivi took the torch from Dimitri and shut it off.  “Stay close to Mystery, all right?  And stay in the shadows.”

“I know how to sneak,” Dimitri grumbles.  “Only idiots get spotted.”  Arthur startles him when he begins coughing, and it’s hard to decide if he mucked up another off key comment or if the sharp air was hurting his throat.

Save for Mystery, who trots out and around to spot for on foot security, the group hugs the tall brick walls.  They hike around the shielded side of the school, among thick shrubs and decorative cement barriers that align ramps, always in the presence of steps.  The entire school was contained within walls, and any outside corridors cutting through were barred by tall metal gates. Refrozen ice from the night before glittered in tall standing lamps, its crusty surface crunched under foot.  In some areas there was evidence of children’s play, snow angles and dark soil exposed where frost was scooped up.

“It’s really cold,” Dimitri chattered, as they passed by another corner.  By then they had made it the edge of the football field, where they had crossed an hour earlier on their wild mission for references. Encircling the entirety of the field and school grounds was a chain-link fence and beyond that awaited the neighborhoods, a few homes visible with their bright friendly light glowing in window cutouts.  He’d come past this corner many times with his friends in the past, when it was still safe to hike up to the school alone.  He wondered if the disturbed ice was caused by kids that had been born in the town. “My teachers say it gets that way, ‘cause of the sky being cloudless.  Something about clouds trapping heat.”

Arthur gripped his bad shoulder as he stepped around the corner.  “Yeah,” he mutters.  “Heat can’t escape, that’s why.  It doesn’t make a lot of sense unless you know the science behind it, because it….” He let his voice trail off, and caught Vivi by the shoulder of her coat. “We should call it a night.”

Vivi turned to look at Arthur, as withdrew his arm to hold his shoulder.  “Okay.  I know, I know,” she said, voice misting.  She reached her hands up tugging at the straps of her backpack, and then turned to where Dimitri was poised beside the wall, staring out.  There was something she needed to tell Dimitri, something important, but the thought had dropped from her mind.  Vivi sighed and touched her glasses.  “Well… we can leave you off at your house for the night.  How does that sound?”  Wasn’t his father upset?  “No-no.  His father forgot.”

Dimitri glanced at Vivi.  “I can’t go back,” he mutters.  “I tried, but… I can’t.  Not until…. Can we start looking?  Now? Why can’t we start?”  He stepped up to Vivi and stared at her. “Tonight?  Looking?  It’s so cold… my brother, what if he’s cold?”

Vivi draws back, and glances to Arthur.  “We can’t,” she says.  Arthur shrugs, and sticks his hands into his pockets.  “We’re not ready, and it can be dangerous searching the woods, especially at night.”

Dimitri felt something in him tighten painfully.  “When will you be ready?  When will the time be right!  I’m done waiting!”  Mystery was sniffing around near them, but when Dimitri began screaming the dog raised his head and perked his ears.  “Just show me where.”

“Just calm down.” Vivi hands over the flashlight and Dimitri, hesitant, takes it.  The bulb is still warm, and he presses it to his cheek.  “I have an idea where we’ll start, but in the morning when its warmer and we get some supplies.”  She glances Arthur’s way when he flicks the lighter and raises the glimmering flame to his cigarette.  “Just one more day.  What— ” She cuts off when Dimitri wrenches out of her grip, the torch held beside him. Dimitri shakes his head vigorously.

“No.  No-no-no, don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, voice low. “Don’t you dare say.”

Vivi takes another step in his direction, but stops and clasps her hands in front of her lap. “What if you just tried accepting that….”

“NO!” Dimitri’s voice echoes off the tall black wall and shoots across the vacant field.  “I don’t CARE! what anyone says!  I know my brother’s out there!  Someone stole him, so he has to be SOMEWHERE!  If you won’t— ” he has to stop, the tears constrict his throat and he‘s choking on the words, the memories.  His little brother, gone from his bed.  “Fuck it!”  He thrusts the flashlight down, causing both Arthur and Vivi to jerk when it cracks against the frozen soil.  Dimitri stifles a sob as he tears across the field.

Mystery stares the way Dimitri heads, and glances to his companions.  He lowers one ear and tilts his head.

“Shit, that’s really done it.”  Arthur sticks the cigarette between his lips and turns to Vivi.  “I told you, right?  This was a bad deal from the get go.  Just… you should’ve waited.”  He starts in the direction of Dimtiri’s fading form, halfway across the football field. Vivi doesn’t move, except to raise a hand to her eyes.

“You should go after them, Mystery.”  Vivi turns and approaches the wall where Dimitri had been standing, and uses a hand to keep herself stationed and upright.  “You know you should.  Please. Go.”

Mystery turns away from Vivi, but dithers back. He doesn’t want to leave her, but Dimitri could just keep running from them, become lost from them for good.  It wasn’t safe now.  He gives his head a shake and cuts over the frost coated landscape, flurries shredded between his paws.  Of course he couldn’t abandon the boy now.  But Mystery almost feared most leaving Vivi alone for too long in her current state. Not this time.  It would be all right.  Not like… not like before.

His face hurt as he ran.  Tears streaking, skin pummeled by the merciless frigid air, and his throat was full of cold needles.  He ran until he felt like his lungs were bursting and his breath tasted salty, like blood gushed forth.  Still he ran, ran away from it all.  His problems, the things he couldn’t fix, the people that gave up on him.  Flee his sorrow.  But where was he to go?  Would there be answers or more lies, hidden by kindness?  How was he to tell friends from those that would fail him?  He couldn’t do it anymore.  One time he had fought, then he was running – nothing ever worked for him.  Never!

A bark.  Some stray out of nowhere, plowed right at his feet.  Dimitri barely caught himself as he staggered, the dog had lunged in close but not directly under him, only startling close.  It was enough to upset his balance and he toppled into the cold ice and grass of a lawn.  He lay on his side a moment half crying and wheezing, he couldn’t wrestle control over his breathing, could only lament and be miserable.

Mystery stood nearby, his own breath misting from the exertion.  He gave a low yip and padded forward to press his nose into Dimitri’s shoulder.  Come on, get up.  He blew warm breath on Dimitri’s ears and nuzzled his face.

“No!  Get away!” Dimitri tried to swat at the mutt, but Mystery only came back and snagged his shoulder sleeve and growled. “I said go ‘way!”  He shoved Mystery by his shoulders, and in the same motion Dimitri rolled upright onto his knees.  “Stop!  I mean it! I‘m not playing!”

Mystery tugged at his shoulder and maneuvered himself aside as Dimitri tried in vain to remove the dogs jaws with his hands.  Mystery snorted and pulled harder, the hound accented his desires with more low snarls, gentle snarls that were not hostile but demanded attention.  Dimitri stopped fighting and just stares as Mystery holds his sleeve.  After a short while, Mystery released Dimitri’s coat and turns away. He took a few steps toward a bright slice of sidewalk and looked back, yellow spectacles glinting under the moonlight.

“They won’t help me,” Dimitri mumbled.  

Mystery yipped.  Oddly, the sound had a resonance akin to “come along, now.”  But that would’ve been weird.  It was just cold and Dimitri’s ears ached.  With another bark, Mystery began to walk away.  The dog paced a few yards from Dimitri, throwing his head back with another series of yelps and hoots, not like the sounds of a dog.  He keeps this up, until Dimitri managed to his feet and plodded into the steady pace his escort set.

Dimitri stumbled a bit on the slick sidewalk as he followed, and worked to brush the glittery patches of cold from his coat.  The coat Vivi had bought him.  “I want my brother back.”  Mystery whines.  The fringes of moonbeams punch through the tall gnarled trees above, accenting his white fur with silver highlights and maroon flashes.  “Dad didn’t like it.”  Mystery slowed his pace and let Dimitri catch up to him.  “I thought maybe that’s why he didn’t care.  But I know he would, I know he would’ve.  He’s not like that.”  Dimitri rubbed away the icy tears drying to his cheeks.  “He just doesn’t understand!”  He caught himself on Mystery before he could fall again, then noticed the sidewalk that they were now on.  “Where we going?”

The only answer was a dismissive gurgle as Mystery padded off, his pace picking up.  Dimitri knew where they were, and he felt some small warmth return, a bit of hope restore itself.  The van was ahead, parked in front of the empty lot overgrown with brown weeds and trees. He hadn’t thought about returning, hadn’t given a second thought to just waiting.  He just… it was too much to think about, and tears edged at his eyes again. He didn’t know why, it didn’t help his current situation any small amount.  He was still at square one.

Mystery trotted ahead to the vans back and began sniffing around the sides.  “Is Lewis here?” Dimitri questions, as he stares up at the tall, imposing outline of the vehicle.  The van had a sense of isolation, separate from the night.  It seemed to devour the shadows, yet there were no trees near the road to cast shrouds of blues and blacks.  “He should be back, shouldn’t he?”  Dimitri hurried to the back door and knocked.  “Lew?”

No answer.  That didn’t come as a surprise, but it was disappointing.

“Is he around?” Dimitri asked, even as he knocked on the doors again; the hollow banging echoed within the metal walls. Even the resonance felt cut off from the outer environment.  “Lew? Are you there?  It’s me, Dimitri!”  He tried the door handle and found it unlocked.  “Mystery?”  Dimitri pulled the door open and peered into the wall of black that hovered before them. “Hello?”  Dimitri waited, listening and trying to perceive the impenetrable wall.  He stepped aside when Mystery wriggled beside his leg and sprang up into the interior, the black hung low and soaked into Mystery’s white fur.  “Is… someone there?”

Though Dimitri’s sight was limited, he could still make out that Mystery’s behavior was odd.  The dog hesitates and listens carefully, ears aimed forward, focused on an unknown factor.  Mystery sniffs at the air, then carefully, sets his raised paw, the one still bandaged, down.  He moves further, deeper, into the dark gloom, fading out of sight.

Dimitri scrambles to climb up after the dog, but first manages to stumble sideways when his legs get tangled up in the thick blankets left along the wall.  “Stupid,” the boy mutters, as he uses a ledge or something to push himself back up. “Lewis?”  The air inside the van is ten times worse than the open air, so cold it penetrated his coat and nearly burned his skin.  Dimitri shudders and begins to feel along the wall.  He knows they had a few flashlights hidden around, but he never paid attention to where the spares were kept.  Some light would help.  “Mystery? Where’d you go?”  His voice cracked.  The dog was nowhere, he couldn’t even detect where Mystery might be and Dimitri worried he’d wind up falling on top of him.  He tries whistling.  “Mystery puppy.  C’mere. This is no time to hide.”

Something in the dark swatted at him, and Dimitri gave a little cry as he fought it off.  He was nearly to the point of hysteric shouts, before he was backed away from the slumping curtain.  He laughed a little, uneasy and shaken.  “I forgot about that.” He stands motionless staring now at the blanket half hanging from the ceiling.  The gravity of his situation coiled about his mind.  No one was in the van, he was alone.  Lewis had not been here at all.

A small bark was given by Mystery, prompting Dimitri to locate the dog over at the back doors?  Fresh light from the moon slipped unrestrained through the interior of the van, but the details were still hazy and crudely molded.  Some bags and supplies were stacked on one side of the van, blankets piled by the other wall.  At the doors stood Mystery’s bright outline, he barked into the night with some little urgency and the little spot of his tail wagged cheerily.

“Is someone out there?  Lewis?”  Dimitri asked.  He raced across the floor and darted out, past Mystery as he slipped aside.  

Dimitri took a few steps out onto the road, and Mystery waited until he began to inspect his surroundings for any indication of a friendly face.  Mystery padded away from the door, and took a hold of the blankets rumpled across the floor. Dimitri was still calling out into the night with some rising desperation, while Mystery worked to uncover the dark shape sculpted in the shadows.  He moves around the side and holds his head back, high, in part scrutinizing the dark container, and a small trace of reluctance in his demeanor.  

For Dimitri.  

Mystery expels a misty whine, and begins pawing at the edge of the box, timidly, as if dipping his toes into thick paints.

There was no one outside.  At least, not from what Dimitri could see.  Maybe there was someone, the same person that stole children. He gulped down another hiccup, but felt his face twisting with the sickness of sorrow.  They could be watching him right now, aware that he knew too much.  He must be silenced.  No one would know, he would soon be forgotten – for real this time.  The people he once loved, believed in, none of them would care. Mystery wouldn’t leave him to danger, but Mystery wasn’t with him right now.  What if the dog was trying to warn him, and Dimitri completely missed it?

He felt an illness twist in his guts, rooted by too much of stress and sorrow, and no remedies.  It scooped up his insides and ripped them all out, his heart and soul. No one would help.  No one could understand.  He was alone.

“I just wanted my brother back.”  Dimitri squatted down and wrapped his arms tightly around his legs and shook, he tried to bury it in his chest but it lurched free. Pain and guilt, serials murderers of hope and dreams.  “Give him back.  Please.” His hands and nose ached, his fingers were numb.  Everything was cold and sharp on his nerves.  He didn’t care if he fell asleep here and never woke up, or if a speeding car were to careen by.  Anything would be better than the punishment of being forgotten.  “I loved him.  I swear I did.  He looked up to me, I was important….”

“Dimitri?” a voice called.  “What’re doing here?”

The odd scratchiness made it tricky to identify, but Dimitri knew the tone of that voice.  He tried to uncoil and stand all at once, and instead fell onto his side as he twisted around on the icy road.  “Lewis!”

“Y-yeah,” said the figure, slipping out of the van. He was zipping up his coat and teetering on his feet, looking away, around.  “Right… quick question.”  He adjusted his voice, working through the hoarseness.  Lewis gave the area a brief scan then turned back to Dimitri, raising a hand to his face. “Where… are we?”  He recoiled when Dimitri gave a shrill cry and lunged at him. Lewis put his arms out to catch the boy, but Dimitri flew right through his palms and wrapped himself around Lewis’ legs.

“I want my brother!  I want to look for my brother!” screamed the boy.

“Qué pasa en el mundo?  Que… what’s wrong?”  Lewis couldn’t pry Dimitri free, and he wasn’t going to try. “Talk to me, Dimitri.  Where are the others?”

“They won’t help me look!” Dimitri tightened his arms around Lewis, his last lifeline.  “Vivi. She was… she was gonna say it.  My brother’s not dead.  My brother’s not dead!  He’s just missing!”  Dimitri buried his face into Lewis’ leg, and began to quiet when Lewis set his hands on his back.  “He’s not. You believe me.  Don’t you?” he mumbled.

Lewis would’ve sighed if he could.  He didn’t understand anything; this conversation Dimitri had with Vivi, or where Vivi was for that matter.  It was too surreal, too sudden, he wasn’t ready for this.  There was just Mystery as a guide, but Mystery was in distress too, as much as the dog would allow Lewis to take from.

“Lew.  Your glasses.”  Lewis jerked his head up, and found Arthur placed not far from him.  As if to emphasize the point, Arthur raised a hand to his face.

And Arthur was smoking.

“I didn’t,” Lewis began, and rephrased his sentence. He wanted to move away, get away from Arthur, but something was… off.  Very off.  “I didn’t hear you.”

“Uh huh.”  Arthur took another draw from the white stick, and slanted his eyes a bit. “Vi and I were gonna call it a night… uh, Dimitri.  Aren’t you tired?”  He leaned a little over, towards the boy.  Dimitri just mumbled and whimpered into Lewis’ leg.  

“Where’s Vivi?” Lewis inquired.  To his side, Mystery poked his head out from the interior of the van and fixed on Arthur.

“Well, she didn’t want to run,” Arthur reasoned. “Is the van still cold?”  He stepped a little closer to Lewis as he puffed at his cigarette.

The sensation was unsettling.  It was Arthur in every aspect, but parts of him were shut off.  His usual writhing aura of indecision, doubt, was diluted with something unfamiliar. There was no mediating presence, only a null absorbing warmth and drive, persona defined.  Lewis was struggling to reach out and understand the coldness, the vague indifference, but it was impossible to grasp.  And for Lewis, he didn’t want to realize it.

“Dimitri,” Lewis says.  “Go find me a big stick.  Real quick.”

“What?  Why?” He loosens his hold and tries to look up at Lewis, but Lewis moves out of his way, leaving only a hand on his shoulder as he swings around and towards Arthur.

“It’s got them too,” Lewis supplies.  “We’re gonna knock some sense into Arthur.”  At that comment, a little squeal spills from the boy and he races off.  Mystery lunges out of the van and follows, yipping.

That little cry almost startled Lewis, it was a amost too happy for comfort.  He’s brought back to place and time, when Arthur exhales a mouthful of mist and smoke. Lewis glides back and settles. “Arthur,” he hisses.

“I’m trying to… fix this,” the lean figure mutters. “It’s complicated, ah.  I told you guys we shouldn’t have come.  I told you!  Didn’t I?” He shakes his head and brings the cigarette back to his lips.  He’s not watching Lewis.  “‘Hey,’ I say.  ‘Let’s try something else.’  No one ever listens to me!”

“That’s… not true,” Lewis says.  He takes a step back, out of Arthur’s range.  “I can��t reason with you like this.”  It didn’t suit Lewis to be timid, but he was frazzled from his dormancy.  Time was needed to refocus, dampen his sensory, the pitch of the colors swirling, but answers!   He wanted answers and Arthur… Arthur was the last person Lewis could ask.  Rather pursue the ghost, Arthur moved away towards the open back of the van.  Lewis slung forward and jerked Arthur back by grabbing at the compromised shoulder. “You need to talk to me.”

Arthur staggers away, one arm latched at his bad shoulder. “That doesn’t always work.  Does it?”  When Lewis moves forward to pull him back, Arthur exhales a cloud of smoke. Some of its ash, most of its breath, but it nips at Lewis like static.  Interference.  “I don‘t know how to approach you.”

“Arthur.”

“Seem like every time I wake up, there’s you.” Arthur gestured with his arms, and glowers at Lewis.  The ghost doesn’t rebuke the comment.  “I hate the dark, I hate sleeping… ‘coz your always there.”

“Art.”

“Even before you made that spook fun house!  You were there!  You never left me!  You just… won’t get out of my head.”  Arthur moves to the doors but stops.  Lewis hasn’t budged from where he stands, biding time.  Arthur brings the cigarette to his lips.  When he exhales, that’s when Lewis will move.  “Shouldn’t you be concerned about Vivi?”  Arthur coughed on the smoke as he spoke, “I just kind of left her— ” The sentence ends when Lewis dives forward, grabbing the smaller figure by the shoulders.  Arthur gags as he’s shoved onto the floorboard of the van, and held there as Lewis reaches off to the side for the backpacks.  

“You were probably going for a Dispel,” Lewis says, as he works to get a bag open.  “But I can’t trust you, not the way you are.  You don’t know what you’re doing.”  If he couldn’t get a bag open he had to find something in the cuvees, but he wasn’t sure of what to use.

“DAH!  Yu!” Arthur flops wildly to loosen the hold, but Lewis only tightens his grip and keeps Arthur pinned down.  An intelligible set of squabbles spills from Arthur’s throat as he fumbles around for something, a weapon.

A piece of paper, rolled up.  Arthur knew what the sheet was, if he could manage he always kept one nearby.  Vivi had given it to him and he suspected it might have been a placebo, but he was willing to try anything.  Arthur’s hands were left free, and Lewis was distracted with fumbling through the supplies. With one swipe Arthur had uncoiled the script page and pressed it onto Lewis’ arm.  “Spirit!  Release me.” He wanted to laugh at how absurd the phrase sounded, and he was saying it to Lewis.  The laugh came out with a maniacal peel as Arthur took a breath through the harsh cold air, smoke still curling in his lungs.

Lewis gave a high pitched shriek and withdrew a fraction from the sheet of paper.  In the confusion, Arthur managed to get himself right side up and held the page out before him, but the words he intended to speak got lost when he saw the skull and the bright eyes blazing back at him.  Arthur barked a curse right as Lewis grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into the opposite wall of the van.  Arthur can smell burning, carpet or plastic, he sees flames seeping up along Lewis’ suit collar and broad shoulders.  

“I don’t want your tears, or your apology!”

Arthur winces, and kicks out against Lewis’ stomach but the ghost can’t feel it.  “Lew’s,” he rasped.  Heat, fire twisting in his skin, up his bad arm, spilling through his nightmares. “Don’t!  LU-wus!”  He feels his throat compressing to a dangerous amount and darkness begins creeping behind his eyes.  “No!  NO! WHY?!”  Arthur panics and claws at the jacket sleeve, fights to rip away and reclaim consciousness, but the hands are locked to his throat and those ‘eyes’ burn into his own as if they are sipping at his soul.  “Don’t keH -eh. –Mm beg…  Don… Lews, lis-  Listehhn….” Arthur voice becomes garbled, butchered.  “Lis-sEN.  Wak— Don’t do -iss.  Is eee…..” It reaches the point where Arthur feels his neck is ready to snap in two.  His grip jerks feebly at Lewis sleeve one final time, then his hands go limp.

“If only… if only….” Lewis echoes, to himself.  “If only…?  Can’t turn back time.”  Lewis’ eye sockets flare briefly, and the embers along his back diminish.  “Art? Artie!”  His hands spring open and Arthur slumps across the floor with a heavy Thump.  “Oh Dios!  Art.  Di algo. Yo no podía tener.  Nunca lo haría…a ti…”  Arthur doesn’t move, and he’s not breathing.  “No… no.  Como podria? Art!  C’mon!  Don’t do this!”  Lewis isn’t sure what to do, physically what he could do.  He can only think of the time his little sister had been choking, and what his Mamma had done.  “You won’t…. I won’t let you!”  He flips the unconscious figure onto his back and tilts Arthur’s head up, then hesitates.  His hands hover over Arthur’s chest briefly, before he shoves down. Not the rib cage, that’s a fatal mistake many make.  Just beneath, in the diaphragm area.  That was what his Mamma taught him.  

“Art, please.”  If he’s not careful, if he gets carried away, Lewis could easily break Arthur’s body.  “Come back. Damnit!  Open your eyes!  Breathe!” He adjusts Arthur’s head and touches his throat.  He can’t detect breaks, there’s no reason he shouldn’t be breathing.  “Arthur!”  He compresses the center of Arthur’s chest once, twice— then a breath!  Arthur sputters and coughs, his eyes snap open and he sees Lewis hovering over him, hands open.

“Geh… get away from me!”  Arthur throws himself back into the wall and slips away, hands pawing behind him for balance, security.  He tries to take another breath and buckles forward, groaning and holds his neck.  “Juz… why?”

“I… I didn’t mean to,” Lewis rattles, voice a mess of static and scratching.  “You wouldn’t, and… are you okay now?”  He shifts the bright embers in his skull onto Arthur, as the other retreats slowly along the wall.  “Are you….” He hesitates as Arthur stares at him, eyes muddled, unfocused, and full of fear. “Are you— there?”

Arthur holds his stare unblinking, eyes watering, throat aflame.  His expression intermixed with…. “What about you?” he whispers, voice broken.  “Are you… why did you do that?  Why?”  He whimpers as another gasp agitates his wounded throat, and massages his neck.  “Did you want to?  Why?”

Lewis shifts where he’s perched, sinking a bit into the floorboard.  He looks aside where a small yellow flame burns on the short carpet.  Where the cigarette had fallen.  It’s the cigarette he knows, but it could have as easily been him. It’s not though, but even the certainty feels like a lie.  “You… hurt me.”  He snuffs the flame out with his hand.  “I couldn’t brea— snap you out of it.”

Arthur opened his mouth, but cut off when Dimitri’s voice flew through, muffled by the thick walls of the van.  “He’s here?  Gawd. It‘s… fuzzy.  Nothing’s making sense.”  He hangs over his knees and holds his head, rocking slightly side to side. “What happened?  I can’t remember why I came….”  Lewis drifts forward reaching for Arthur, but the crumpled figure recoils, eyes wide.  Lewis keeps his distance.  

From outside, Dimitri’s voice was getting louder, more urgent when he realizes Lewis and Arthur are missing.  Mystery begins barking.  Thankfully the mutt had ducked out, Arthur didn’t want to think what Mystery might’ve done.  It was in the past though, he kept telling himself that.  Arthur was rocking again, arms bundled around his neck and holding his shoulder.

“D-Dimitri,” Lewis voice crackled, and faded out like a bad radio signal.  His skull became transparent as he glides to the vans front.  “He… he can’t see me like this.”

Arthur hobbles away on his hand and knee, he waves a hand back at Lewis.  “I got him. I-I’ll….fuh.”  He hangs on the open door of the van, leaning far over when Dimitri rounded the side of the van.

“Arthur!  You’re okay?” Dimitri wobbled when Mystery ran by and bumped into his leg.  “I was supposed to find a big stick, but I couldn’t find any big enough.”  Dimitri rubbed at his eyes, and put an arm over Mystery.

“A big stick?” Arthur echoed.  “That doesn’t sound very PG.”  He winced, and pressed his metal hand to his head.  The joint connector in his shoulder ached in the cold, but at least it was good for something.  “I’m confused, can you tell me something?  Where are we?”  He edged forward on the bumper and scanned over the presented neighborhood, of what was visible at the edges of the frost coated lawns, glistening in the moons light. “This isn’t your neighborhood.”

At first Dimitri said nothing and only stares up at Arthur’s numb gaze, revaluating time and setting.  “Vivi said my brother could be dead.”

Arthur leaned away to hack dryly into his shoulder and took a moment to gather himself.  Dimitri could see red in Arthur’s eyes as he turned his face back. “Wha?  No, she’d never.”  Then Arthur went quiet and sank deeper over his knees like a melting candle.  He sat that way motionless for a long time, Mystery whining all the while as Arthur gathered himself.  A few times Arthur would twitch as if… coughing, and shuddered at the cold. Finally, he raised his body and said, “No.  She wouldn’t… say that.  We don’t know anything, and she would never have said such a thing.  Never.  Ever.” Arthur paused to clear the tightness in his throat, and coughed a bit more.  He pulled himself up and looked at Dimitri.  “Do you believe me?”

Dimitri didn’t respond.  He only stepped back and looked to the dog under his arm.

The driver side door creaked open.  “What I got so far,” Lewis began.  He pushed the sunglasses a little closer to his eyes, he carried one of the backpacks.  “Something’s gone wrong.  And Vivi’s where?”  Lewis handed a backpack to Dimitri, but kept his distance from Arthur as the folded figure watched him.  A sort of tension was at work between the two, and Dimitri couldn’t read it.  He only knew to stay away from it.

“We left her at the school,” Arthur explained.  He took the bag from Dimitri and fumbled with the straps, he couldn’t figure out how to get the top open and gave up.  “I thought, I think, I guess…. We left her at the school, and I was worried about Dimitri.  That was on my mind last.”  He pressed his cold palm to his eyes.  His head ached.  

Mystery adds a firm bark.  He was at fault too.  But it couldn’t be helped now.

Of course Vivi was not at the school.  Arthur and Lewis searched over the grounds and around the buildings side calling, searching for their team leader.  To no avail she was not there, but if she were she may have not wanted to be found.  There were only a few tracks in the frost layer that could be hers among the many shallow prints.  Arthur reclaimed his cracked flashlight, but that was the extent of the searches accomplishments.  

While the bipedal members searched, Mystery narrowed down the confusion of interwoven scents left on the ice.  Though the water and icy air pricking at his sensitive nose made tracking difficult, he did manage to pick up on Vivi.

The trail leading towards the gate out of the field.

“I think Mystery’s found her scent,” Arthur called. The dog’s movement was slow, frustratingly so.  “This is going to take too long.”

Mystery snuffed at that comment.  His toes were numb and the bandage on his paw was filthy, but he did try to hurry up the pace.  Arthur followed as the hound led along the chain link fence, towards an open gate facing the road.  The open floor of the gate that connected the field and the sidewalk was filled with the scratch marks made in the icy mud by dozens of feet, school children and visitors alike throughout the day.  It would have been easier to track Vivi if it had actually snowed.

“Mystery can maybe track up the road,” Arthur says, when Lewis and Dimitri catch up from across the field.  He shudders and rubs at his flesh arm, though it didn’t help. “But we’re gonna have to get in the van and crank up the heat.”

Lewis checked on the smaller boy that shadowed them. Despite his coat, Dimitri still had his arms plastered around his sides and his breath showed in thin lines, but the boy appeared bright eyed and alert.  “You can drop him off at the motel room, and Mystery and I will keep searching.”

“No,” Dimitri snapped.  He stopped in his tracks and glowers up at Lewis and Arthur when they turn to him.  “I wanna make sure Vivi’s okay too.”

“It’s super cold,” Arthur chattered, rubbing at his shoulders.  “You’re gonna catch pneumonia.  I’m not kidding this is serious, you can die!  We’re thinking about your wellbeing, D.”

“Then stick me in the van with the heater, and your guy’s blankets,” Dimitri reasoned.  He looked Lewis’ way, as Lewis adjusted his sunglasses and moved his sight to the road. “It’d take too much time for you to drive back here, then figure out where you left off.”  Another idea comes to his head.  A slim chance, it was farfetched but Dimitri was willing to try anything.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep this night, not until he had some answers. “What about we try that place where some of missing kids were last seen?  The Prime Rose district?”

“It’s a rumor,” Arthur explains.  He stepped aside, a little away from Lewis when the taller figure looked at him.  “Witnesses thought they saw some kids in that area, before they disappeared.”  Mystery stopped beyond the chain link fence on the sidewalk, and turned to look at Arthur.  Lewis and Dimitri followed the dog, but Arthur remained beside the gate. “If they are under the influence, should we really trust what’s been put in the reports?”

Lewis looked from Arthur, to Dimitri and Mystery’s expectant gazes.  “You weren’t… lying, either?” he said, slowly.  “It only alters the way people think, how they react.”  It was difficult to explain what he picked up from Arthur. Lewis moved away from the group and beckoned them with an arm as he walked down the sidewalk away from Mystery, to where Arthur left the van.  “If she hasn’t gone far, then we’ll see her on the way.”

As the hour got later the streets became deserted, with the curfew in full effect the stray car was a spontaneous appearance.  Lewis did note that most were law enforcement out on patrol, but he tended to agree with Dimitri that they were worthless.  The Prime Rose district was a few miles across the town, through smaller neighborhoods and the shopping/fast-food plazas; but no sign of Vivi.  She was on foot, but they only cruised methodically along the roads always straining to peer through the dull haze of night.  The fractured light contrasted every dark space in home and lawn, but never indication of a dark shadow skittering about.

“I’m sorry I ran away,” Dimitri mumbled.  He clutched Mystery to his chest, the folds of the blanket draped over his shoulders slumped around him and the dog.  “If I hadn’t… I should’ve known something wasn’t right.  You hadn’t….” He pressed his face into Mystery’s neck, and mumbled.

“You couldn’t have known.  You were upset,” Lewis assured.  He gave Dimitri’s head a little pat, then returned his focus to the passenger side window, searching through the sidewalks and brush.  “We’ll find Vivi, no problem.  Don’t fret, hermanito.” Lewis was still worried, but he’d hide it.

As the van took another turn, Arthur leaned far over in his seat to peer out the driver window and check any spaces in the lawns he might’ve missed.  “What do we do if we can’t find her?” he ponders aloud, and shifts his eyes back to Lewis. “Not that I’m doubting, well… I dunno if we will, this towns not big but—”

“You take Dimitri back to the motel, and I’ll keep searching,” Lewis rasped.  “But it’s too cold for her to be out.”

“I’m not going back to the motel,” Dimitri urged again. “You guys are hopeless without me around.”

Lewis was about to contend with that assumption, but the van jarred to a near halt.  They were still moving if barely, and Arthur had leaned hard onto the steering wheel with his eyes fixed on something beyond the hood.  Lewis caught his spike of excite the instant before Arthur spat, “Found her.  There!”

“I need to borrow your bag for a second.”  He snatched the backpack away from Arthur’s side, and sprang out the passenger side door.  “Wait here,” he called, before slamming the door on the sudden swell of frigid air.

They had arrived on the road beside the Prime District, the park on the edge of the town.  It wasn’t a large park, but it was up against the edge of the woods with a brick wall that stood around the freshly trimmed landscape and the wild grove beyond.  A stone path cut through the lawn, leading to a gazeebo built on one side of the park. The base was white stone, and contrasted with the dark shade of a figure standing among the shimmering white frost, back presented to Lewis.  

As Lewis neared Vivi, he slowed his stride cautious if she could anticipate his appearance or of what to expect.  She still had a backpack, he saw.  If she did not appreciate his interference, Lewis would not fight.  “Vivi?”

She edged around to check the voice.  “LewLew, you’re up,” she hummed.  “Were you just stunned?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, and cut the distance between them by two strides.  No sudden movements; smooth, gliding motion.  “What’re looking at?”  Lewis kept track of the dark figure he was now near, but shifts his attention beyond her and sought out across the park.  “Is that…?”

“I thought about what Dimitri said, and it made sense,” she spoke.  She leaned on the edge of the gazeebos wall and watched the small figure wandering across day old frost, the graceful steps almost like a dance.  “There was something else… but I can’t remember.  I try.”

“Are you following her?” he asked.  Lewis felt cold, legitimately cold to the core.  The girl couldn’t be more than six, and she was out here in pajamas and no shoes.

“I’m thinking some kind of nymph or sprite. If they call children out to the woods, then it spirits them away… or something like that.  It has a hold of— What are you doing?”  Vivi spun around when Lewis set down the backpack, and moved the last few feet toward her.  Lewis unzipped the top of his jacket.  “Lew?”

“Here.”  Lewis reached a hand into his coat and brought forth the heart locket.  Vivi was backing away from the gazeebo and toward the open landscape, but Lewis swept a hand out and caught her around the backside. “Listen to my voice.  Focus…” he said, as he opened his hand to allow the glimmering locket to hover freely above Vivi.  Lewis brought his hand down and gently lay his fingers over her brow. “And come back to me.  I know you’re still there.  Romper el atascamiento que engaña a su mente.” He lightly touched Vivi’s eyes and raised his hand back.  “Preservarlo que honra a nuestro contrato.”

Translucent flames coughed out at his jacket sleeve as he drew his hand back and tightened his fist, as if drawing a thread from the bluenettes mind.  His appearance lost solidity, skull flashed through the illusion, bleached bone and eyes baleful in the blue moonlight.  Lewis maintains the illusion with good effort and stares over the rim of his sunglasses, at Vivi’s shimmering eyes.  “No… Vi. Too far.”  The clenched fist quivers, the embers in his eyes sockets smolder, brighten.  “Not there…. Don’t look, Vi.”  Lewis snaps his hand out catching the suspended locket and brought it to his chest. “I can’t… let…..”  Lewis’ eye sockets go dark behind the thick shades he hides behind.  He lowers his head and tightens his hold on the locket at his chest.  Everything is dark and cold again.  Lost.

Vivi goes limp, her eyes flutter shut as she falls back supported only by Lewis’ hand.  It took a second for her to get her bearings and come to.  “Lew… Lewis?” she says.  Lewis doesn’t answer, but flinches at her voice and cradles the softly pulsing heart at his chest.  “What have you done?” she whispers.

“Nothing.”  Only then did Lewis raise his face to meet her gaze.  “I took a risk.  Do you…?” He couldn’t ask.  If he asked, it might trigger something.  He couldn’t hurt her, never.  “What you were doing last?”  He eased Vivi onto her feet, but kept a hand on her shoulder in case she needed support.

Vivi raised a hand to her head.  “What… am I doing?” she murmured.  Vivi noted Lewis adjusting his jacket, and quickly concealing his locket.

“Can you tell me… why you’re here?”  Lewis stooped to lift up the bag.  He looked past Vivi, seeking the area the girl had wandered off into.  They needed to follow, get her back.

“Harvest moon.”  To Lewis perplexed stare, she repeated.  “Harvest moon.  That’s what I looked up.  The disappearances correlate with a Harvest moon, not every month but…. That’s the pattern. I was getting close—” She stopped when the rough pants and heavy foots falls crunched through the frost, suddenly upon them.  “Art!”

Arthur was panting, though the distance he sprinted across the park was relatively short.  He skids to a halt a few feet away from the two, his rapid breath coming in a thick mist startled Lewis back a fraction from Vivi.  “I thought that,” Arthur stammered, eyes darting between Vivi and Lewis. “Is she okay?”

“Of course she’s okay!” Lewis hissed.  He couldn’t blame Arthur, but his interruption was ill timed.  He wasn’t up to this.

Vivi darted forward grabbing Lewis’ arm, and caught Arthur by his good shoulder.  “No time to explain,” she says, and pushes Arthur away.  “Where’s Dimitri?”

“Left in the van?” Lewis presumed, answered.

“Mystery’s with him?”  To Vivi’s question Arthur nods; for the brief time was too stunned to speak, pulling feverishly at Vivi’s grip.  She hadn’t noticed.  Vivi pulls down her backpack and slips out the laptop, Arthur takes it when she pushes it into his hands and she points toward the awaiting van on the road, engine still idling in its rhythmic whirr.  “We’ll have to leave him.  Mystery will know what to do.  Go tell him.” She pushed Arthur away, and he took off running.  “Grab the flashlights and some batteries!”  Once Arthur was on his way, Vivi slung her backpack onto her shoulders and removed her hand from Lewis arm.  She stepped toward the brick wall at the backside of the park, pressing her hands together as she took deep breaths, white mist flashed at her lips.  “I remember…” she began, hands fidgeting into an awkward clasp.  “I came here to wait.  I know I was watching, I knew what would happen and I did nothing.”

Lewis followed after Vivi and caught shoulders, he spun her to face him.  “We’ll make this right,” he hummed.  “We’ll find them.  We’ll figure this out.”

“It’s not right,” she murmured.  Vivi pulled her hands to her chest, and Lewis wrapped her up in his arms.  “We were off guard.  Lewis… Lew. Did you do something…?  To me?”

“No.  I would never,” he said, voice wispy.  “I had to… dissolve its hold on you.  It was a tricky, pulling you away.  I couldn’t…I don’t want to lose you again, like that.”

“You wouldn’t lose me,” she said.  Vivi wrapped her arms up around his chest and held him.  The jacket felt frayed and worn, brittle around his tenuous shape.  Air seemed to go right through Lewis, as if he absorbed the ice under his boots and amplified the sensation.  That wasn’t right.  “Lew,” Vivi began.  “Are you—?”

“Arth’us gonna be back,” he said, and tightened his arms around her one more time before he let go and moved away.  “She was barefoot.  The little girl.  I’m worried.” Vivi didn’t respond, she only looped her arms around her chest.

The idling roll of the engine cut off, and a short time after a streak of yellow light was zipping across the silver field.  Once Arthur caught up, Lewis and Vivi hurried the remainder of the way to the brick wall.  It wasn’t a tall wall, just a wall built to segregate nature from order. The ground beyond it was soft and earthy, coated in leaves and full of brittle mulch dusted with glitter.  The high tangle of the tree canopy blotted out much of the moonlight in thick clumps above, mostly due to the overgrown bundles of vines that wrapped about and crisscrossed all throughout the branches. There were large spaces in the coppices where one tree had fallen and the sky drenched the earth in blue-silver.

“We almost don’t need the flashlight,” Arthur commented, as Vivi clicked hers on.  He didn’t like being out the way they were, without Mystery.  And it was cold.  It was curcial to find the kid and get her back asap, but it was very-very-VERY cold. “Some tracks,” he muttered, turning his torch down.  “Here, and here.”  The ground had a shallow coating of the frost, and in the small wood clearing they moved through, the disturbance on the white cover was most noticeable with the contrast of dark soil.  “Looks fresh. Not an animal.  Too cold anyway.”  He checked Lewis as the ghost drifts over, the figure suspended a full three feet above the earth.  When Lewis is too close, Arthur elects to continue on his own and follow the trail. “Small tracks,” he mutters, as he moves. He tucks himself down under his backpack, seeking some small shelter from the lazy breeze probing through the trees.

Vivi caught up with Lewis and knelt near him, touching the edges of the dirt clumps.  She brought a hand to her mouth in silent anguish as she stood, and Lewis began to reach a hand out for her.  But Vivi darted away, following the path Arthur was on.  “We should be able to catch up with her.”  

Lewis drifts sideways watching her go.  Vivi may have doubted him.  Or, Lewis feared to dwell if he had not done right?  There had to have been another way, but he had panicked. He did that.  Later he would ask, but if it involved her memories… he couldn’t bear that teetering around that subject.

The trail was uphill, a mild ascent and no great difficultly for the surviving members.  Progress was slow going, as they managed the trail and picked over the visible marks in the soil, carefully discerning the path before moving on it.  They couldn’t afford to get lost.  Lewis drifted ahead, able to identify easily where soil was disturbed without spoiling the delicate crust layer himself.

“How is it kids move so fast when you’re not watching them?” Arthur grumbled, at one point.  He kept close to Vivi’s side, his torch flashing with a faulty bulb whenever he let his movements become too erratic. “It didn’t take me that long to gather the supplies.”

“Idunno,” Lewis responds.  He tipped forward, checking the texture of loosened earth scattered on a patch of ice.  “The pacing looks like she was running.  He swung himself upright, and skimmed beneath the canopy with his ember eyes as he glides, low.  The assumption made his bones clatter, but he could…. theoretically.  Nothing was stopping him, nothing physical anyway. But… somehow he couldn’t bring himself to move on the whim.  Terrible.  Ghastly! The only factor holding him back was his irrational fear.  What if it was his own sister?  What then?  He would just… hover, down here, and never take the incentive.  How could he—

Lewis jarred when a hand touched his arm.  A few wisps of fire popped off his neck and hair as Vivi mirrored his jarred movement, with a cringe of her own.  Arthur was ahead for once; the cold made him anxious, impulsive, maybe impulsive.  It wasn’t fair.    

“Hey,” Vivi said, softly.  She tugged on his jacket sleeve, gathering Lewis’ attention.  “We’re making good time.  It’ll be okay.”  She held his stare for a short time.  She was too understanding at times.  She squeezed his sleeve a little tighter.  “You’ll see.” Then, Vivi ducked off on the path becoming steadily clearer before them.

That didn’t help.  If anything, it made Lewis feel worse.  She shouldn’t sympathize, shouldn’t understand this ‘complication’ of his.  There was no reason he couldn’t go find that girl, cold, lost somewhere in these woods. No reason.  Still, he couldn’t bring himself to take the initiative.  It was like he was tied to the earth and it wasn’t fair, not to her.  He had no limitations, they were stolen from him, all of them.  He had no excuses.

Lewis glides onward, carefully sifting through the marks in the soil.  Hoping beyond rational that somehow in their delayed, lost search; somehow, they would catch up with the forests next victim before they found the culprit.

[oldloveatz]

candy canes | yeosang

— TYPE: fluff, one shot

— WORD COUNT: 2.1k

— SYNOPSIS: whenever winter time comes around, you always get three candy canes from the same person whose name probably starts with a ‘y’.

— AUTHOR’S MESSAGE: i’m trying to make as much one shots as i can  ; ^ ; so hopefully you guys enjoy this little yeosang one shot!!

i am: distracted by this gif

three candy canes taped on the locker door and a baby blue memo with a handwritten note on it were the things you became used to seeing every time december comes around. it started in sophomore year, and it started with one candy cane and a pink memo sheet. the notes were written in clean handwriting, satisfying to look at. it always ended with the initial y. this y person could honestly be anyone from school, and the last person you expect to leave these were kang yeosang- as if he’d bat an eyelash at you, anyway. he is nothing to you but a seatmate in your classroom.

who is kang yeosang?

kang yeosang is popular in school because of his out-of-this-world looks. he almost looked unreal, like an animated doll; better yet, an actual doll. he was shy, and mostly quiet as most students say. when he talks, everyone shuts up to hear the words that he says. yeosang has a deep voice and a slight lisp, which adds more to his charms. he was everyone’s dream boy, even their mothers!

the first snow came a little later in november, but it was a magnificent sight to see. you finally had an excuse to wear your black padded jacket and wear sweatpants under your skirt. snow came constantly now that december had started.

you went to your locker to grab your math and english books and put back your science book, and upon walking over you found the familiar candy canes mounted on the gray, metal door. all you could do was smile, but worry that your mom would get annoyed because of the abundance of candy canes at home.

your hands peeled off the candy canes, fingertips meeting the cold metal. opening up your locker, you were bestowed with a note written on a square baby blue memo sheet. it contained the familiar penmanship that you were so used to seeing, a smile crept up on your face as your fingers picked up the paper in a delicate manner.

your eyes still hold the same galaxies and stars, even after three years of giving you candy canes and memo notes. and you’re still as beautiful in my eyes.

- y ♡

your face began to heat up, still unable to process the fact that someone is still sending you these things. a smile played on your lips, slipping the note into your notebook and shutting the door. as your turned around, kang yeosang himself was walking to the classroom you both shared, his eyes were on your for a second before nodding his head in acknowledgement. you nodded yours, heart racing and swallowing hard.

yeosang had been in your class twice; once in sophomore year and in senior year. the only thing that’s different is that he sits next to you this time. sitting next to him felt undeserving; he was like a prince, and he looks like one too. you often couldn’t look at him in the eye, but when you do it was like the electricity down your spine was gone, like he had unplugged the cord in your spine. his gaze was almost immobilizing.

you set down your bag in your chair, pushing it into the desk as yeosang did the same. he looked at you, and to your mistake you did too. he had an icy stare, it matched with the snowy environment outside. however, the light from the window made it seem like he was an angel, outlining his figure. shaking off his stare, you smiled before bowing and fleeing the classroom to find your friends.

yeosang must have seen you geeking over the note in your locker, and the candy canes you were stuffing in it. it could have been anyone else, but yeosang was the one who saw you. god, how embarrassing... maybe he didn’t see you blushing over it? let’s go with he didn’t.

“y/n! about time you got here,” eunha called, leaning on her left as she crossed her arm over her chest. “i’m guessing...?”

“more candy canes?” yunhyeong asked, a rather amused face plastered on his face. your friends knew and are up to date with the secret admirer thing (or at least that’s what they call it). they took up the opportunity of finding out who y was, but gave up knowing there were a lot of people whose names starts with a y, like yunhyeong. “look, it really isn’t me- i hate candy canes.”

“we stopped saying it was you,” insook said, patting yunhyeong on the cheek before rolling her eyes to the side playfully. “actually, we just stopped trying to find out.”

“there’s only one letter- how much help would that be anyway?” you added, chuckling and internally admitting that you’ll never meet your secret admirer. after three years of keeping up with this, they still have not shown or grew the balls to introduce themselves to you. why hope, right? “oh, whatever. it’ll be over once we graduate.”

“true, but still,” sukwoon butted in. “we might still want to find out whoever the fuck y is.”

sukwoon always had a... delightful vocabulary. but so were the rest of you, from time to time.

english class was just as boring as you wished it wouldn’t be. unnecessary partner stuff - well, you found it unnecessary because yeosang wouldn’t talk to you after all the english talk between the both of you, which made everything even more awkward than most days. not that he ever talked to you, but he talks to his friend, wooyoung.

your eyes began to linger along the classroom wall filled with posters and charts. there was a bulletin board right above the bookshelf on the left side of the room from you and it was filled with pinned grade sheets that you never checked, and right next to it were to unneeded but nice-to-have motivations for schoolwork. you smiled a little, eyes rolling all over the place. retrieving your eyes back, they landed on yeosang’s papers. you simply admired his crisp and neat handwriting, it was almost envious.

but they looked awfully familiar... where else have i seen this handwriting?

you were staring at his paper for so long that you hadn’t realized yeosang was speaking to you, “did i spell something wrong?”

“oh! n-no,” you stammered, clearing your voice and turning away to cough away whatever was stuck in your throat. turning back your attention to the pretty boy next to you, he was staring right at you. and it was different now; it was like you were being hypnotized by his eyes alone. “i-i just thought y-your handwriting was- uh, fuck- what was it?- oh! it looked familiar. i’ve seen it somewhere, i just- don’t know what it was or where it was.”

he nodded, turning his head away from you. his eyes darted around, anywhere but you. after he turned his attention away from you, you let out a relieved sigh. “so, i didn’t spell anything wrong?”

“n-no, your spelling is perfect,” you replied with a smile, hoping that the conversation would end. and it actually did, the tension building up in your chest faded away. class went on without the both of you talking to each other again, and onto the lunch period. oh, you so wanted to tell your friends about how familiar yeosang’s handwriting was. if it was so familiar to me, why can’t i remember where i’ve seen it?

before going to the cafeteria to meet your friends, you went to your locker to get the lunchbox you prepared at home. upon unlocking the lock, you decided to look at the note once more just to cheer yourself up. grabbing the notebook you had stuffed the note in, your eyes grazed on the neat handwriting you familiarized yourself with, and that’s when it dawned you.

this was yeosang’s handwriting.

“you’re being ridiculous,” insook said, slurping up her noodles before humming in satisfaction of the flavor. you had just told them that yeosang may or may not be the secret admirer they have been telling you about, but they all dismissed it and told you you were being delusional. somewhat true, but who else has handwriting like yeosang? that’s right- no one else! “we’ve never even seen him talk to any girls or ask them out on dates or whatever.”

“why would be updated on that type of stuff?” you asked, getting a little frustrated that your own friends won’t take your word for the mystery secret admirer. “i’m not kidding! i sit next to him and i looked at his- fuckin’- paper! it deadass looks the fuckin’ same!”

“easy, potty mouth,” sukwoon said, your head snapping right at him. 

“you’re one to talk.”

“why don’t you ask yeosang himself?” yunhyeong suggested, looking up at you as he opened his milk carton. 

“he’s right,” eunha added. “if you think he’s doing it, then ask him.”

“that’s embarrassing,” you said, sitting back down with a huff. it’s true, it would be embarrassing for both you and yeosang. if you were to speak to him and bring up the candy canes and the notes, he’d be embarrassed in front of his friends... maybe. you didn’t want to falsely “accuse” him of anything. “it’s probably a coincidence.”

“yep, might be it,” sukwoon said.

math class was a pain to be in. the math teacher was absent for the day, so a substitute was ordered to give out worksheets based on the lesson you were learning about and work either individually or with desk partner. you didn’t opt for working with yeosang, he was good at concentrating and gets good grades during tests and such. he didn’t need your help, right?

you felt light taps on your left shoulder, turning your head right at yeosang who had a blank face. he was leaning towards you, his paper in hand. was he asking for help? his paper looks like it’s done.. “yes..?”

“do you need help?” his deep voice asked, big eyes blinking right into yours. looking down at yours, you simply nodded followed by a chuckle. you certainly didn’t want to feel dumb around him, but you needed some help. “okay.. which one?”

“this one,” you pointed at the one you were stuck on. you wouldn’t even hesitate to admit that yeosang explained the question and the steps a lot better than the teacher. the more he talked, the more you felt comfortable with his intimidating presence. he explained it to you precisely and asked if he could watch you do the problem so he could confirm it. and you let him. “did i do it right?”

“yes, you did,” he replied, a small - very small - smile playing on his thin yet gorgeous pink lips. you wondered how could someone look so good and extraordinary like him, who birthed him? “um..”

god, he’s so awkward. it’s adorable.

“you said my handwriting was familiar a while ago,” he added when you didn’t say anything. he was still staring at you, but once you did he looked away and straight at the board with an unnaturally straight posture. you smiled at this. “may.. i know why?”

“i-i don’t know if i should tell you- it’s weird and embarrassing,” you replied with an embarrassed smile. but he grinned.

“i hear weird things all day, i think i can handle this one.”

after much consideration, maybe telling kang yeosang about the secret admirer, candy canes and notes situation. at the end of the day, he wouldn’t care about your possible love life- he might even have a love life of his own that he tends to.

“i’ve been getting notes and candy canes for three years straight,” you said in a summarized version of the situation. “and i don’t know who it is, but they always sign it with a y.”

you could’ve sworn he gulped and his eyes darted to the side. yeosang nodded his head before shifting in his seat. you chuckled at this, “are you alright? i told you it-“

“it was me,” yeosang suddenly said. it certainly caught you off-guard. that was when your heart began to thump, and it was as if your head doesn’t know what was happening but your heart does. you gulped, lips pursing and looking to avoid his eyes. “i’m sorry, i didn’t have the courage to tell you.. so i gave candy canes and notes.”

“sophomore y-year?”

“oh- yeah, when we shared a classroom together,” he said. he was oddly calm. “but.. um, now that you know.. do you- do you want to go on a date.. or something?”

you can’t deny him, you were like under his spell already. “i-i’d like that.”

he smiled softly, “meet me in front of the school, um- saturday, 10 am.”

[paladin4theright]

Speak To Me

He was determined to make it; he just had to. His destination was not too terribly far off now, he just had to push himself a little further and a little harder. A thick maroon substance trailed after him melting the snow as it fell and made contact with the ground. A macabre contrast against the white. He was freezing, shivering, and his hands were numb. He tried to maintain his sanity and keep himself alive but God it fucking hurt. He knew it wouldn’t be much longer. As he made his way over snowy banks he could faintly make out a hazy orange-hued house through the fierce blizzard. His dark purple cape billowed in the snowy gusts behind him, almost like wings in the night, but it set him off balance which caused him to stumble and collapse into the freezing white powder. He groaned out in pain as he tried to catch himself but he was just too weak. Blood pooled in the snow underneath him and dripped from his abdomen, which he tried to hold together with his left arm protectively. He took in a labored breath, held it in as he pushed himself off of the cold, damp ground and forced himself to stand up. His green gloves were soaked with a mixture of blood and snow. The smell of copper and iron was almost too much for him to stomach. His teeth chattered as nausea washed over him from the sharp, unrelenting pain he experienced. He vomited blood and whatever left over pop-tart he ate for supper earlier that night once he reached the siding of his close friend’s house. He wrinkled his nose from the smell but tried not to pay much attention to it. He already knew he didn’t have long. He could feel each beat of his heart as it thrummed in his head and poured crimson body fluid from his abdomen over his arm and down his legs. His knees shook from his own weight and tried to buckle out from underneath him so he held himself up on the side of the house. He was leaving smears of blood along the siding as he moved. He rounded the corner and looked up to the second story window and furrowed his brow. He could make it. Once he made it up there, he would be okay. Everything would be alright. He continued to walk against the side of the house until he came in contact with a familiar drainpipe for the gutters. This drainpipe led up which was just in reach with a tree branch that would take him straight to the window he needed. There was one thing Mysterion knew. He depended on this friend in some of his most dire times. This was the one of the worst of them so far. He looked around suspiciously then began ascending the pipeline. Tears stung the back of his eyes as the felt like his lower half was tearing away. Everywhere he could feel pin-needles pricking him. His plasma had actually started to freeze before it had a chance to coagulate (not that it would have done him much good at this point). Mysterion slowly made his way up the pipe then dragged himself onto the tree branch. He rested there for a few seconds. His blood seeped onto the bark and dripped from the branch into the snow below. It appeared as if a murder had happened and essentially that’s what it was. He crawled across the tree branch to the window and prayed that it was unlocked. He hoped it was like all the other times. With the last bit of his energy, he slid the window open and collapsed onto the warm, carpeted bedroom floor. Mysterion let out a soft groan, still in the distant deep voice he always used for Mysterion to hide his persona and closed his eyes.

“W-Whose there?!” Gasped a small, southern drawl. “Oh-oh hamburgers, M-Mysterion, are ya alright?”

Mysterion heard the boy quickly crawl out of his bed and pad his way to meet him on the floor.

“G-Good golly, Mysterion. Why, yer gettin’ blood all over my floor and my parents are gonna be awful sore…” He began but when Mysterion didn’t move he realized how serious his condition was. “O-oh jeez. I’m gonna get grounded for sure…” He said softly as he stooped over to help get Mysterion off of the floor and dragged him into his bed.

“Sorry Butters.” Mysterion muttered softly in his rough voice. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he spoke but Mysterion kept a small smile.

“Awe, it’s alright Kenny.” Butters replied gently, trying to comfort his friend. The worry was evident in his voice.

It grew quiet between the boys as Butters stuffed the wounded vigilante into his bed and polished his knuckles together. He wondered what he should do next. Mysterion forced his eyes open to look at Butters who stared at the mess that had suddenly become of his bedroom. A thick pool of blood sat in front of his window and trailed all the way up to his bed. He looked at his own pajamas and realized they as well as his hands were drenched. Butters’ eyes grew wide as he looked back at Mysterion. Mysterion’s stomach had been lacerated open. Butters was certain not all of that was blood but also organs too. Butters grimaced and felt a slight panic as his wide pale eyes met Mysterion’s blue ones. Mysterion let out a weak, gentle smile and tried to reach out and touch Butters’ hand. Butters noticed Mysterion’s gory, cold green mitten and grimaced.

“Just…speak to me Leo.” Mysterion begged. He’d stopped using his deep voice saved just for the Mysterion persona. It was his sweet, gentle voice of a 11-year-old boy. His best friend Kenny.

“W-What should I say?” Butters panicked in his southern drawl. “I dunno what to say Ken. Ya look somethin’ awful.”

Mysterion smiled, almost chuckled, as best as he could manage.

“I’m alright. Just…just talk to me like you normally would.”

Butters rubbed his knuckles together fervently as he nodded reluctantly. Butters began talking about how their so-called friend Cartman was being mean to him again. About how the elementary school cafeteria food sucked now. About how Stan and Kyle got into another argument about something silly.

“Gosh darn ridiculous if ya ask me.”

Mysterion shut his eyes and felt the agonizing pain began to slip away as he listened to that sweet, southern accent. He felt a few tears slip from his blonde lashes. Mysterion realized he didn’t have the energy to tell Butters how much he depended on him and how much he actually appreciated him as a friend.

“Ken? Kenny?!” He heard his name called from some distance away.

Oh well. I guess there is always tomorrow.

I intend on adding more to this I just have major writers’ block with this one for some reason.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672368

[gravity-bomb]

Something More

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

“Oi Angel Face you paying attention?” Huh….blinking quickly I look back at Bakugo’s twisted scowl. I guess I zoned out while working on homework. Since our first year I’ve gotten a little better about studying and even earned a higher ranking in the class. But for some reason I’m having a hard time today.

“Oh sorry Bakugo….guess I zoned out.” Rubbing the back of my neck nervously I glance down at the worksheet we’ve been partnered for. It’s pretty basic but I’ve never really been that great with math. A hand reaches out and thumped my forehead gently.

“Whatever. I’m almost done with it anyways.” Anyone else would think he’s pissed about me not helping as much but I know better. If anything he’s been distracted too since we’ve been camped out on the couch together for most of the morning. “Do you have plans tonight?”

Tapping my chin with my pencil I mentally scroll through my to-do list. Tomorrow I have patrol with Ryukyu for the majority of the day but that’s about it.

“Not really. I have patrols tomorrow so I figured I’d lay around and get homework done.”

“Wanna get dinner then?” My brows pinch together, we normally eat dinner together. Since our class lives together we’ve developed a system of eating together like the chaotic family we are. So how would this be different? Is he talking about going to the school and getting something at the cafeteria?

“You mean the cafeteria?” As soon as the words leave my mouth Bakugo bonks my forehead with the back of his hand. Scooting away from him, I rub at the small spot that was lightly coated with nitroglycerin sweat. Bakugo doesn’t seem to like this since he grabs my thigh to pull me back to him. But instead I slide down flush with my back on the couch and he hovers over me. His nose resting against mine as crimson orbs stare into mine. Having him this close, where anyone could see, makes my heart start racing. We’ve been steering clear of any form of PDA because Bakugo isn’t that type. He keeps everything private.

“Not the cafeteria dummy. Me and you, off campus. Alone.” The pieces fall into place and a smug smile tugs at my lips.

Poking my forefinger against his chest, I snake my free arm around his neck, “So you want to go on a date with me?”

“Tch. You’re going to be the death of me Cheeks. Go get ready and meet me in an hour.” A gentle kiss presses against my nose before he pulls back. He’s being a little weird today, first he lets me curl up into his side all morning and now this. Seems a few days of not being alone together is starting to catch up with him.

Pushing him off of me, I gather all of my books and start to walk towards the elevator. Bakugo will be hot on my heels but I want to beat him to the elevator, maybe even leave him waiting for the next one. Teasing Bakugo is something that’s become one of my favorite hobbies just because it’s so easy to do. Even before we were together I’d do it just to make life in the dorms a little interesting.

Like the universe is on my side, just as the elevator doors start to close Bakugo is staring me down. Winking just as they close I hear a tiny explosion rumble. I start laughing and by the time I get to my floor, I notice that Mina is waiting to go down. If I trust my gut, which I do, something tells me that she was just leaving Kirishima’s room.

“Oh hey Ochako! Didn’t think I’d see you all alone without mister explosdy.” My laughter slows as I move out for her to enter. Her brows wiggling at me with an evil intention. Out of all of the students I think Mina and Toru are the worst gossips, even though they aren’t really wrong about this. Heat rises to my cheeks as I wave her off. It’s best to just let it go instead of diving down the rabbit hole with Mina. Girl talks with her takes hours….and today I just don’t have time for that. After all I’ve got to get ready for my date.

* * *

Abort mission, I need help! Fumbling for my phone as my hair brush runs through tangled knots, I manage to text Mina.

Uravity 3:10: My room. Help!

Pinky 3:10:  On my way!

How in the world did I think I’d be able to pull this off? I’ve never been on a date before in my life. And I usually only wear my school clothes and hero costume. Not that I don’t own real clothes, I just never have a reason to wear them.

Wincing as the brush falls onto my desk, a large ball of hair resting in the bristles. I’m hopeless.

“Oh Ochako! I’m home. What’s the emergency….” Her voice dies down as she takes in the mess that is me at this point. I’m wearing nothing but a matching bra and thong set. Those gold eyes look down and somehow her pink complexion gets even pinker. Looking down at myself I feel my cheeks turn to fire. I forgot that I needed to cover up my thighs since Bakugo likes to leave marks. Even though they’re a few days old they still hold a dark red and purple hue.

“You have three seconds to explain before I self explode.” She bounces over to me and starts to work on the situation that is my hair. Ever since I let it grow out I don’t know exactly what to do with it. Most time it just hangs natural or I throw it up into a messy bun for my workouts.

“I guess I’m going out tonight. With Bakugo. I tried doing my hair but I’m useless. So please instead of enjoying my misery can you help me? Please?”

“Of course I’ll help! I never thought this day would come. After all, you and Bakugo have been making heart eyes at each other for over a year now. I mean I thought we were going to have to force you two together. The tension was suffocating.”

She’s not wrong. If it wasn’t for movie night we’d still be “making heart eyes”. She motions for me to sit in my chair and I happily oblige. Mina goes to work as I scroll through my outfit choices. Bakugo didn’t really mention anything specific besides dinner. I don’t want to underdress or overdress, maybe I should text him.

Uravity 3:15 : Where are we going? And what should I wear?

“I need hair ties, bobby-pins and a curling wand.” I point to the top drawer of my desk slightly confused as to why she needs to many things. But I have to trust Mina, after all she has an act for hair and makeup. Although I’ll pass on the makeup part. Buzzing causes me to jump and I look down at the phone I have clutched tightly in my hands.

Ground Zero 3:17: It’s a surprise. Something casual.

Well he’s a bunch of help. I try to slouch in the chair but Mina man handles me back up. With nothing to do I squish against my finger pads. Nerves start to bubble in my stomach and my skin crawls with anxiety. I shouldn’t be feeling like this at all. After all we’ve slept together a few times already and confessed. So why am I like this?

“Done. Honestly you need to start hanging out with us girls more. We could teach you a thing or two.” My heart pinches. I have been blowing off my friends for a few weeks. And this past week hasn’t been much better with everyone asking questions about Bakugo and I. Not that I really mind but it’s been exhausting and long.

Jumping from the chair I run to check out what Mina made out of the mess I made. My feet stop directly in front of the sink and a gasp leaves my lips. In the span of 30 minutes Mina was able to curl my hair with a waterfall braid wrapping around the backside.

“You’re a lifesaver!” I jump from my spot and envelope her in a huge huge. Not even caring that I’m practically naked. She pats my back softly in an attempt not to mess up her masterpiece.

“Now tell me you have an outfit in mind?” Her brows wiggle at me as I march to my closet. Might as well compliment her work with one of my favorite outfits. Pulling out a long sleeve black sweater, a brown button up corduroy skirt, and a pair of black booties. Mina smiles with approval as I start to dress.

“Who would’ve thought Lord Explosion Murder would get a girl as great as Uravity?” Her teasing tones makes me laugh. Honestly I never thought we’d be here but I’m so happy we are. The pink haired girl is shuffling around my room as I put on the finishing touches. Clear gloss and just a touch of mascara, nothing over the top. Pulling on my socks I carry my shoes in my left hand as Mina hands me a purse with all of my stuff thrown into it. I’m glad I asked her for help. Grabbing her arm with my empty hand I tug her out of my bedroom and lock the door.

“Who knew Lord Explosion Murder was into girls at all?” It’s her turn to laugh as we make our way to the elevator. The butterflies in my stomach haven’t calmed, if anything they’ve gotten worse. My fingers tap against the metal rail as we descend downward. The large number 1 flashes on the screen and I swallow roughly as the doors open. Mina pushes me out causing me to stumble, good thing I caught myself because almost all of my classmates are huddled on the couches again. Bending down I pull on my shoes quickly before moving further into the common room.

“Woah. Looking good Uraraka. Guess you aren’t joining us for movie night.” Kirishima chuckles across the room as my pink friend runs to plop down beside her boyfriend. His eyes move from my form to something behind me. Curiosity gets the better of me and I turn to look as well.

If looks could kill, I’d be a pile of ash.

Bakugo has on a simple outfit, white T-shirt with black jeans, a red plaid jacket over top complete with tan timberlands. Crimson eyes turn to me, analyzing every inch of me, and I have to keep myself from self combusting. Smiling nervously I move to take a spot by his side, ignoring the cat calls behind us as we exit the dorms. An arm wraps around my waist as we make our way down the path to the school entrance.

“So how do ya feel about dinner and a movie?”

“Sounds good to me.”

I decided to cut the date in half simply because it would be looonnnggg. But I also will be switching POV that way we can see what Bakugo is thinking :)

[cheryl-in-a-barrel]

My Shield of Armour (choni)

Read on AO3

Based on this prompt

Cheryl couldn't fall asleep anymore.

Not since they broke up.

For two painful weeks, Cheryl spent her nights tossing and turning, desperately trying to cling onto a sleep that never took pity on her.

She's passed out a couple times from pure exhaustion. She'd get a couple restless hours at best, before waking up with tears streaming down face, from either an unforgiving nightmare, or just plain cruelty on her body's part.

It's bad. Cheryl's beginning to think she'll never sleep again, forced to become this dark eyed, nightmare ridden monster. She’s actually forgotten what falling asleep feels like by now.

Cheryl always had trouble falling asleep. Ever since she was a little girl. However, her lack of sleep only worsened after Jason died. She used to get 3 or 4 hours a night at best, for months.

That changed after she met Toni.

When Cheryl was with Toni, sleep was never an issue. Even in the early stages of their relationship, before Toni moved into Thistlehouse with her, Cheryl always fell asleep peacefully after talking to Toni on the phone for hours.

It was a nightly ritual for them.

They always talked before bed. There were nights when Toni didn't get home from her shift at the Wyrm until after midnight, and she was always dead exhausted after these shifts, but still, she'd pick up the phone, and call her still very awake girlfriend, and they'd talk about everything and nothing until both falling asleep.

Once Toni moved into Thistlehouse, that wasn't an issue anymore.

Cheryl slept even better after that. She got to spend every night in the other girl's arms, and she got to wake up every morning there too.

The nightmares visited her less and less, and suddenly Cheryl had the sleep schedule of a normal person.

But now, now she's fallen into her old habits. It feels like her past few months of decent sleep has all been a dream.

In fact, her whole relationship with Toni feels that way.

Like it was too good to be true.

Cheryl always knew being with Toni was too good to be true. Cheryl has never, in her whole life, ever gotten something good, just because. There would always be a catch, or a condition, or a something. She'd been tricked time and time again, she'd been falsely promised to, she'd been lied to, and used, and nothing more than a disposable pawn in more games than she can count.

Cheryl Blossom didn't get good things. She didn't deserve them. That much, she has learned.

But, when Toni came into her life, persistent and unwilling to abide by the laws of Cheryl's self depreciation, there were moments when Cheryl truly believed maybe Toni was something good that would stay.

She was wrong.

She was always wrong.

Toni left, and all Cheryl has left is her own nightmares and a broken heart for the hundredth time.

Well, she has one other thing left actually.

It's stupid, and maybe a little pathetic, but she's been holding on to one of Toni's hoodies that she left at her house.

Part of her is tempted to get rid of it, to remove any piece of Toni that remains in her life. But she can't do that. She doesn't want to do that.

For two weeks, she doesn't touch it. The warn sweater simply sits on her dresser. Seeing it is a weird form of comfort, but that's all. She tries not to think about it too much.

After two weeks, she's not feeling any better despite how many times Veronica tells her she'll be okay.

Her heart hurts, she's barely getting by in school, and she still hasn't gotten any damn sleep.

There's been a few times, momentary lapses in judgement is what Veronica likes to call them, when she tries to seek Toni out at school, desperate to just...see the other girl.

But, since the breakup, Toni shows up even less frequently than she does, and on the few occasions she does spot the other girl in the hallways or the cafeteria, she's surrounded by serpents, and Cheryl doesn't have it in her to confront the girl with so many people watching.

So they don't talk. They don't see each other. They haven't texted. It's radio silence, and neither girl has even an inkling of the pain it's inflicting in the other's heart.

It's been two weeks, when Cheryl slips Toni's hoodie over her shoulders.

She didn't even think about it much.

She's in bed, it's the middle of the night, and she can't sleep. Her eyes are wet, and her nose is red, and she's clearly been crying but she honestly doesn't even feel it anymore.

The covers are pushed off her body, and then she's up, strutting to her dresser, her socks padding against the floor beneath her.  

Cheryl slips the hoodie over her shoulders. She tries not to think about how it still smells like Toni.

She stands still for a second, unsure of what to do, and a little surprised at her own impulsive action.

The sweater is frayed, and multiple threads are loose at the sleeves. One of the drawstrings are longer than the other, and it's clear that Toni has had this beat up hoodie for years.

Cheryl goes back to bed, this time hugging the stupid article of clothing closer to herself.

Miraculously, she falls asleep.

When she wakes up, it's to the sun peaking through her curtains, not from an unwanted nightmare.

She pulls the sweater off herself, and throws it somewhere on the other side of her bedroom.

With her hands pressed against her face, she thinks about Veronica's words. Momentary lapse in judgement.  

For a few days after that night, Cheryl tries to forget about the hoodie again.

She hasn't even picked it up, and it haunts her just laying there on her bedroom floor.

Under any other circumstance, Cheryl would hate the mess, but she just can't bring herself to so much as touch the sweater for a second time.

That is until a few days later when she caves and puts it on again before falling asleep.

She learns that the first night wasn't some fluke, and that this dumb sweater really is the answer to a good night's rest.

After that she starts wearing the hoodie all the time.

She doesn't wear it at school, for fear of Toni seeing her, but even then, it's sitting in her locker or shoved in her bag.

On the morning of the first full month since the breakup, Cheryl goes to school with the black hoodie tucked into her backpack.

Veronica is waiting by her locker, as she often does these past few weeks.

"Hey," Veronica smiles simply at her.

"Hey, Ronnie," she replies, trying to sound as genuine as possible.

She really is thankful for how much Veronica has been there for her through the breakup, but she still can't help but wish it was a different girl she was talking to.

"So, it's Archie's birthday this weekend," Veronica continues, standing idly by as Cheryl opens her lockers and grabs a couple books.

"He convinced me to throw a party at mine, you should come," she tells Cheryl, "We can get drunk, and completely disregard Betty when she goes into protective mom mode."

It's a nice thought, and Cheryl appreciates the sentiment. She isn't sure if she's exactly up for a party right now though. Lately, she hasn't been up for much of anything.

"No serpents allowed," Veronica added a little more quietly, "I promise."

"Can I think about it, Ronnie?" Cheryl asks, and Veronica notices how hesitant she sounds. It's so unlike Cheryl. The hesitance and vulnerability in her every word.

"Of course," she nods, "Whatever you want, Cher."

"Thanks," Cheryl attempts a smile. She has no idea how to show Veronica her appreciation, as she's always been terrible at displaying her emotions, but she tries her best and hopes her friend can fill in the lines.

Veronica can. She gently grabs Cheryl's forearm in a sign of comfort, as the redhead closes her locker.

They're about to head off to the lounge, as they still have some time before the first bell, however, before they can, a couple of rowdy serpents come stalking their way.

"Hey Blossom!" One of them calls, looking anything but friendly.

Cheryl recognizes the two boys from the Wyrm. She was never actually introduced to them, or ever even talked to them. The only reason they're somewhat familiar is because Cheryl remembers feeling their uncomfortable gazes on her more often than once. At first, she wasn't exactly welcomed in serpent territory with open arms, being a Blossom and all. However, after more of them got to know her, and she got closer with Toni and her friends, everyone seemed to accept her, or at the very least leave her alone. Cheryl always felt like these boys didn't quite qualify as "everyone" though.

They reach the two girls, one of them moving into Cheryl's space as the other one does the same to Veronica.

"You aren't so brave without your girlfriend to protect you huh?" The boy speaks, and he sounds equal parts amused as angry.

"What do you want?" She questions him, feeling less than equipped to deal with this right now.

On any other day, Cheryl could be confronted with some asshole, and immediately flip on the HBIC attitude. She hated to be walked all over, and although her bitchy persona caused her more problems than it was worth, the one thing it was always good for was making her immune to being perceived as an easy target.

She hasn't been that girl in a long time now though.

Some may call her weaker, she likes to think she's just more human now, but perhaps that inherently equals weaker.

"What do I want?" He repeats with an insincere chuckle.

"I want everything that the Blossoms ever took from me and my family back," he says the name with so much hatred, getting closer to Cheryl in the process.

"But I guess I can settle for you," he finishes by reaching into his pocket and taking out his switchblade.

Cheryl tries to move away, but he grabs her and pins her to the lockers before she can.

Veronica tries to call out for help, but the other boy quickly grasps his hand over her mouth, and the hallway is empty.

"You may have fooled everyone else, had them all thinking you would actually help us," the boy bitterly spits out, "but you'll always be a selfish bitch who only helps herself. It's in your fucking blood after all."

The words hurt more than any knife ever could.

It's Cheryl's biggest fear, being just another Blossom. She despises the name, and everyone with it, including herself. She wants to be different, she wants to be better than a Blossom, but maybe that's not possible. Maybe she's destined to be this way. Evil. Selfish. Loveless.

She feels it getting harder to breathe, and thinks maybe she's having a panic attack.

It's awful timing, considering she's about to be stabbed and all, but she feels her heart rate accelerate and her head feels lighter, and she just can't fucking breathe.

The next thing she knows, the mass of the boy pinning her down is gone.

One minute she's being held against the lockers, and the next she's free, as the boy drops to the ground.

She doesn't even think about it.

She runs away.

Anywhere but here.

-

Toni groans a little at the pain that shoots up her hand after punching that asshole.

Sweet Pea does the same to the guy holding Veronica, and then both of them are on the ground.

"What the fuck!" The first one exclaims raising his hand up to his now bloody nose.

Toni kneels down and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, getting up into his face as she speaks her next works as seriously as she has ever spoken before, "You better stay the hell away from her, I promise you if you so much as look at her again, I'll break a lot more than your nose."

"Whatever," he grits out, as him and his friend pathetically get up and leave the school with clenched fists and huffy swears under their breaths.

"You okay?" Sweet Pea asks Veronica.

She's a little shaken up but still she nods anyway.

"Yeah, thanks you guys," she says earnestly.

Toni isn't really paying her much attention.  

She's only now realizing Cheryl disappeared as she was too occupied with punching a guy to notice before.

She starts walking in the direction she thinks the redhead went in, but suddenly a hand on her chest stops her.

"Listen Toni, I appreciate you saving us," Veronica starts carefully, "but I don't think that's such a good idea."

She doesn't need to say it. None of them do. The determined look on Toni's face is all too familiar.

"I need to," Toni stubbornly replies. "They were only after her because I brought a Blossom into our circle, this is my mess to fix."

It's a good enough excuse, and maybe her audience would believe her if they weren't Sweet Pea and Veronica.

They see through her so easily. They see the real reason in her eyes, they see the, "Please, I just want to see her. I need to see her," even if she won't say it.

"If you hurt her," Veronica begins telling her with a dangerous look.

"I won't," Toni interjects.

Veronica gets a good look at the girl in front of her in that moment, and she notices the dark circles around her eyes that resemble Cheryl's so closely, she recognizes the exhaustion in her voice, and the heartbreak written on her face.

"I won't," she repeats quietly, shaking her head like the mere idea is the craziest thing she's ever heard.

"Okay," Veronica agrees after a few more seconds.

She steps aside, out of Toni's way, and just hopes she isn't making a mistake.

-

Cheryl hid out in the locker room.

It was the one place she knew would be empty this early in the morning, as the only people who ever use it before 9am are the River Vixens.

She sat in front of a row of lockers, trying to steady her breathing, and miserably failing.

Her whole chest felt too tight, and her head’s so fuzzy it made it almost impossible to focus on anything.

She knows she’s crying, but could barely feel the tears rolling down her cheeks as she was too distracted with the roaring pain in her heart.

On instinct, she pulls the frayed hoodie out of her backpack, and slips it on.

She didn't know what else to do.

All she did know, was that the faint scent of Toni left in the fabric was comforting, and the small reminder of the other girl made her feel safe.

Cheryl's so utterly hung up on Toni, and she knows she needs to start moving on, because Toni doesn't want her anymore and never will, but Cheryl's convinced she'll still be in love with her until the day she dies.

She draws her knees up to her chest, and cries into the sleeves of Toni's sweater.

Everything feels like too much.

-

When Toni enters the room, she was expecting Cheryl to be upset, but the sight she's met with is heartbreaking.

The girl is so small and broken, and it reminds Toni of their first couple encounters.

Since then, Cheryl had grown so much, and seeing her like this again floods Toni with more guilt and pain than she knew was possible.

Toni recognizes that the other girl is having a panic attack, and knows she has to do something.

"Cheryl?" She softly questions, while she kneels down in front of the other girl, and slings her bag down beside her.

Cheryl is a little startled at the presence, but is too far gone in her panic attack to really focus on Toni.

"Hey, hey, look at me, Cher," Toni says gently, but with a little more urgency than before.

She takes both of Cheryl's wrists in her hands and pulls them away from her face so she's forced to look up.

As Toni grips the sleeves of the other girl's sweater, she suddenly notices something.

Cheryl's wearing her hoodie.

She'd honestly forgotten about this hoodie, but seeing Cheryl in it now, it bombards her with a rush of familiar feelings she isn’t prepared for.

Toni used to love when Cheryl wore her clothes, and she can't help but feel the same way as she sees her in her sweater now.

She couldn't dwell on it in the moment though, she blinked a couple times to bring her back to her mission at hand.

Cheryl’s watery eyes met Toni's, as she quietly gasped for air.

Toni moved one of her hands up to cup Cheryl's cheek.

"Breathe with me, please hun, just breathe," Toni coaxed, taking deep breaths, waiting until Cheryl could match her.

Cheryl tried following Toni's lead, slowly feeling her chest untighten as Toni stroked her cheek, and repositioned her other hand so that the pair were holding hands.

"That's it," Toni spoke after a moment when Cheryl finally took a steady breath.

"You're doing so good, I'm so proud of you," Toni whispers, moving her face in closer to Cheryl's, starting to feel her own tears threaten to spill.

"T-Toni," Cheryl shakedly speaks, only now really grasping that the other girl is truly in front of her, and she isn't just imagining it.

"Shhh," Toni hushs, moving her hand through Cheryl's hair. "It's okay, it's okay," she repeats for her sake, or Cheryl's, she couldn't be sure.

"Just keep breathing, can you do that for me sweetie?"

Cheryl nodded.

Toni's sitting so close that as Cheryl moves her head down it ends up resting on the other girl's shoulder.

Toni doesn't mind one bit, and only scoots forward even more to further accommodate her.

She strokes her hand through Cheryl's hair, and rests her chin on the top of the girls head.

After a few quiet moments of this, Cheryl, still a little shaky, and a lot teary, mumbles out a broken, "It hurts, Toni."

She's talking about so much more than just the panic attack.

"I know," Toni tells her. Because she does. She knows exactly how bad it hurts.

"I like your hoodie," she says on impulse.

Cheryl moves her face a little down like she's embarrassed.

"Don't," it sounds like a plea. "Don't say stuff like that."

Toni swallows nervously. "You're wearing my clothes a month after we broke up, what am I supposed to say," it's not at all accusatory, her words are soft and curious.

Cheryl pulls back, and Toni removes her hand to give her some space.

"Just don't say things that give me hope," Cheryl says sadly, meeting Toni’s eyes as she does.

"But what if I mean them," Toni responds, feeling a spike of courage as she stares at the girl she knows she still loves.

"Toni," Cheryl starts desperately, no doubt preparing to tell Toni to stop playing with her feelings.

"I'm serious," Toni interrupts her.

"This past month," Toni sighs deeply, "has been hell."

Cheryl drops her head again, unable to look at Toni as she feels more tears slide down her cheeks.

"We already tried, it didn't work remember?" Cheryl hated the words coming out of her mouth.

She loves Toni, she would give anything to be with Toni again, but she's so scared. Cheryl's terrified of setting herself up to be hurt again and again.

"We didn't try hard enough," Toni argues.

"Being with you, was the happiest I have ever been, Cheryl. You are still the greatest thing to ever happen to me, I don't want to throw that away," Toni speaks with such sincerity it's beginning to overwhelm Cheryl.

"Toni I," she feels her voice crack, and knows all chance of pulling herself together is long gone once again, "I can't lose you a second time. I won't survive it."

"I can't promise you that you won't," Toni's fully crying now too, "But I can promise you that I want to give everything I have to us. I can promise you that I want to do better. I can promise you that I love you, and never stopped."

Cheryl flies into Toni's arms after the words leave her lips, and the two both hug each other so tight, terrified of letting go.

They sit there, 2 broken girls on the locker room floor, first period well on it's way, and they don't know what they're going to do, but they know they love each other, and for them, that's all they need.

A/N - I thought it would be interesting to leave it up to the reader’s interpretation for why cheryl and toni broke up. anyway hope you enjoyed!

[the-unholy-trinitea]

The Andrews Family: Pt 1: Pureheart the Powerful

"Get up, Chandra! You don't want to piss me off this early!"

Ugh. Cheryl is the bane of my existence. I didn't dare rebel because I'd be punished even more.

"Coming, sister." I get out of bed, put on a red ensemble and head downstairs. Cheryl immediately becomes infuriated.

"Change. You don't have color in your closet for a reason."

"But I like my outfit- and"

Cheryl comes face to face with me. "CHANGE NOW. I can make your life miserable just by one phone call."

The Sisters.

"Now apologize, Psycho Barbie."

Tears flood my eyes. "I'm sorry, Cheryl."

"Good." She stroked my face and dug her red acrylic nail into my cheek. I let a yelp escape me. Big mistake. "Now go change into your clothes. Virgin Scary."

My savior in pink arrived when I came down stairs again.

Toni Topaz was Cheryl's girlfriend and she always was nice to me when Toni was around.

"Hey guys. What's up."

"I was just leaving."

"And she tried to leave the house without breakfast."

• • •

I walk to school. On the way Archie and Betty catch up to me.

"Oh god, Chandra! Your cheek." Betty cries.

"I'll kill her." Archie says.

"Guys, stop. It was my fault. I came home past curfew and embarrassed her in front of Toni."

Betty and Archie exchanged a look. Then they sighed. "Look. You need to tell Jughead and Ronnie." Archie demands.

I shake my head and then I'm hit with a lecture about how I don't deserve this and how Cheryl was just hurting from mom's abuse.

They repeated the lecture when we arrived at school.

Cheryl was nowhere to be seen and I took a deep breath. Until I got to my locker.

"Cheryl. Please. The day has barely started."

Cheryl pushed the heel of her pumps into my shoe and pushed me up against my locker.

I couldn't breathe. She then took me to the bathroom. She only did that when she was angry with me. Get in. Cheryl points to a stall and I obey. She follows and begins to beat me to a pulp. Punch after punch.

This was the makeup test. I wasn't allowed to wear makeup or what I wanted.

"Cheryl please don't do this!" I plead.

"Help! Someone help!" I yell.

Cheryl pulls me out of the stall and pins my up against the wall.

That's when I see Betty run in with a guy in a beanie.

"Oh my god Chandra! What the hell happened!" Betty says.

The guy in the beanie feels my wounds with a wet paper towel. I'm afraid of what he knows.

"Oh shit Betts! She's got bruises... who did this?"

I look up. I wipe away the tears and I see Jughead Jones kneeling next to me.

"I got into an accident and Cheryl was helping me. It was last night and yeah."

Jughead looks at Betty and Betty cracks.

"Jug, I think it was Cheryl who gave her these bruises..."

"Shut the hell up Betty," I scream, "You don't know what happens behind Thornhill's gates!"

Jughead looks at me.

"That's it! I'm going to have Toni talk to Cheryl about this."

Toni? Oh my god this can't be happening... I can't tell her who knows what Cheryl will do to me...

Kill me?

Send me away?

Burn down the house again?

"Don't say a fucking word, Jones, especially not to Veronica."

"My lips are sealed." He winked at me and took me to class. Cheryl was at early cheer practice so she was nowhere to be found at this time.

•

"What the hell, Archie?"

"Ronnie, Cheryl's hurt-"

"I heard what you said Archiekins!"

I walk up to the table with jug and Betty to hear this conversation. "Hey guys!" Veronica greets, then to me:

"Channa! We need to talk."

"About what?"

"Archie told me about your home problems and I'm planning on asking daddy to let you stay in our guest bedroom at the pembrooke."

"But nothing's wrong, Veronica."

"But Archie said-"

"And you," I pointed Archie, "you betrayed me." I walk away but it's too late. Cheryl and the rest of the Vixens have me surrounded. She hauls me onto the table and I don't even resist.

"Oh shit, guys..." Veronica says.

"Are you alright Chandra?" Cheryl asks in a mocking tone. "What's wrong? Let me help you."

"Okay." I said meekly.

"Now girls, we need to get rid of the trash."

"No Cheryl please don't!" I plead.

She pulls my wrist and lifts me off the table and into the trash can. "The trash goes into locker 375!"

Jughead gets up with Veronica.

"Stop this, Cheryl!" A voice says but it doesn't come from either of them.

Toni topaz has just arrived at the lunch table. She slammed her tray down and walked up to Cheryl's face.

"Cheryl. What the hell is this!"

"Oh TT it's simply a little fun."

"Fun? If harassing your sister is your idea of fun then we're done. Bye Cheryl. Oh my god, Chandra are you ok?"

The whole cafeteria was in awe and I cried as Archie called his dad to see if I could stay over. Jughead and Betty run toward me and Veronica daintily follows in her 6 inch heels.

"Let's go, Chandra!" He says.

"Archie we can't- she's gonna- hurt you. ARCHIE CHERYLS GOING TO HURT YOU!" I scream.

Jughead looks at me and tells me he's just in a mood but things get serious when all five of us get into Archie's car and start driving.

"Where are we going Arch?" I ask.

"Thornhill. You left all your stuff." He says.

"Archie... What the hell..."

But it was too late he just pulled up to the mansion.

I run inside to hide the truth. I lived in the barn with mummy and uncle Claudius but Cheryl made me keep my phone and personal belongings inside so she could monitor my whereabouts. The padded walls to my "dungeon" were painted red and adorned with pictures of Cheryl. I ran to my drawers and got out my actual clothes. Unbeknownst to my big sister, I had bought a new iPhone which Veronica was funding. Of course Ronnie kept it and registered me as a lodge instead of a Blossom.

chandelierlodge like uncle, like niece @hiramlodge

HiramLodge Anything for my daughters best

VtoherB Chandra... where's my photo credit love? Also, pleasure to help

BettsCoop what about Archie

SerpentKing Dui remember @bettscoop

Archiekins mama... your knight is here

HiramLodge watch it @archiekins

RonnieLodge all in good fun @hiramlodge love u @archiekins

Veronica's Pov

Daddy let Chandra stay with us because he was happy about mom winning the election. Meanwhile, I still had to contemplate finding a new home. My phone rings and it's Archie's twin sister, Aliyah Andrews.

[suddensouthparkaddiction]

Speak To Me

Just a Mysterion one-shot I wrote. KennyxButters (sort of) and mentions of gore.

He was determined to make it; he just had to. His destination was not too terribly far off now, he just had to push himself a little further and a little harder. A thick maroon substance trailed after him, melting the snow as it hit it. A dark contrast against the white. He was freezing, shivering, and his hands were numb. He tried to maintain his sanity and keep himself alive but God it fucking hurt. He knew it wouldn’t be much longer. As he made his way over the snowy hill, he could make out the hazy orange-hued house. His dark purple cape billowed in the wind behind him, almost like wings in the night, but it set him off balance which caused him to stumble and collapse into the snow. He groaned out in pain as he tried to catch himself but he was just too weak. Blood pooled in the snow underneath him and dripped from his abdomen, which he tried to hold together with his left arm protectively. He took in a labored breath and held it in as he pushed himself off of the cold, wet ground and forced himself to stand up. His green gloves were soaked with a mixture of blood and snow. The smell of copper and iron was almost too much for him to stomach. His teeth chattered as nausea washed over him from the sharp, unrelenting pain he experienced. He vomited blood and whatever left over poptart he ate for supper earlier that night once he reached the siding of his close friend’s house. He wrinkled his nose from the smell but tried not to pay much attention to it. He already knew he didn’t have long. His knees shook from his own weight and tried to buckle out from underneath him so he held himself up on the side of the house. He was leaving smears of blood along the siding as he moved. He rounded the corner and looked up to the second story window and furrowed his brow. He could make it. Once he made it up there, he would be okay. Everything would be alright. He continued to walk against the side of the house until he came in contact with a familiar drainpipe for the gutters. This drainpipe led up which was just in reach with a tree branch that would take him straight to the window he needed. There was one thing Mysterion knew. He depended on this friend in some of his most dire times. This was the one of the worst of them so far. He looked around suspiciously then began ascending the pipeline. Tears stung the back of his eyes as the felt like his lower half was tearing away. Everywhere he could feel pin-needles pricking him. His blood had actually started to freeze before it had a chance to coagulate (not that it would have done him much good at this point). Mysterion slowly made his way up the pipe then dragged himself onto the tree branch. He rested there for a few seconds. His blood seeped onto the bark and dripped from the branch into the snow below. It could have almost looked like a murder scene. It basically was. He crawled across the tree branch to the window and prayed that it was unlocked. He hoped it was like all the other times. With the last bit of his energy, he slid the window open and collapsed onto the warm, carpeted bedroom floor. Mysterion let out a soft groan, still in the distant deep voice he always used for Mysterion to hide his persona, and closed his eyes.

“W-Whose there?!” Gasped a small, southern drawl. “Oh-oh hamburgers, M-Mysterion, are you alright?”

Mysterion heard the boy quickly crawl out of his bed and pad his way to meet him on the floor.

“G-Good golly, Mysterion. Why, yer gettin’ blood all over my floor and my parents are gonna be awful sore...” He began but when Mysterion didn’t move he realized how serious his condition was. “O-oh jeez. I’m gonna get grounded for sure...” He said softly as he stooped over to help get Mysterion off of the floor and dragged him into his bed.

“Sorry Butters.” Mysterion said softly in his rough voice. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he spoke. Mysterion kept a small smile. 

“Awe, it’s alright Kenny.” Butters replied gently, trying to comfort Kenny. The worry was evident in his voice.

It grew quiet between the boys as Butters stuffed the wounded vigilante into his bed and rubbed his knuckles together. He wondered what he should do next. Mysterion forced his eyes open to look at Butters who stared at the mess that had suddenly become of his bedroom. A thick pool of blood sat in front of his window and trailed all the way up to his bed. He looked at his own pajamas and realized they as well as his hands were drenched. Butters’ eyes grew wide as he looked back at Mysterion. Mysterion’s stomach had been lacerated open. Butters was certain not all of that was blood but also organs too. Butters grimaced and felt a slight panic as his wide pale eyes met Mysterion’s blue ones. Mysterion let out a weak, gentle smile and tried to reach out and touch Butters’ hand. Butters noticed Mysterion’s bloody, cold green mitten.

“Just...speak to me Leo.” Mysterion begged. He’d stopped using his deep voice saved just for the Mysterion persona. It was his sweet, gentle voice of a 11 year old boy. His best friend Kenny.

“W-What should I say?” Butters panicked in his southern drawl. “I dunno what to say Ken. Ya look somethin’ awful.”

Mysterion smiled, almost chuckled, as best as he could manage.

“I’m alright. Just...just talk to me like you normally would.”

Butters rubbed his knuckles together fervently as he nodded reluctantly. Butters began talking about how their so-called friend Cartman was being mean to him again. About how the elementary school cafeteria food sucked now. About how Stan and Kyle got into another argument about something silly.

“Gosh darn ridiculous if ya ask me.” 

Mysterion shut his eyes and felt the agonizing pain began to slip away as he listened to that sweet, southern accent. He felt a few tears slip from his blonde lashes. Mysterion realized he didn’t have the energy to tell Butters how much he depended on him and how much he actually appreciated him as a friend.

“Ken? Kenny?!” He heard his name far away.

Oh well. I guess there is always tomorrow.