#and the filling she was supposed to replace is already failing. so that is Awesome.

[etoilesbienne]

i am straight up having a bad time right now ngl

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Okay, so the brain’s a bit caught up in one of my other writing projects, but I refuse to abandon this entirely. So I’m gonna just power through this and then get back to Vibing™. 

Actually, it’s kinda cute that the hero Thirteen is introduced in chapter thirteen. I wonder if Hori did that on purpose or just managed it as a fun coincidence. 

[No. 13 - Rescue Training]

So we start off on Wednesday morning (which would be April 12th/11th) at 7:35 AM. There’s a hostage situation by a villain who looks like a goddamned pokemon (my brain has made the ‘buff ditto’ comparison and now I am Shook) who is, according to Mt. Lady, a serial robber and murderer by the name of Habit Headgear. Kamui Woods, whose wood bindings have apparently been broken trying and failing to contain the guy, is tossed back on the ground as he notes the villain is strong and a quick strategist.

Seems like she and Kamui Woods have teamed up together! Or at least responded to the same villain attack again. Also, who’s this dude?

Random Mii Blaster escaped from Smash Ultimate and is now in BNHA, when will the madness end. 

Naturally, the hostages are not handling this situation super well, though the crowds watching don’t seem as worried? IDK hard to tell from far away. The buff ditto villain uses double team, no wait I mean agility, actually his high speed to show how outclasses the heroes on the scene are. 

As he announces his plans to escape, we see All Might rushing in loud enough for the stomps to be heard. He announces his arrival mere moments before he fucking snaps the villain’s neck with a handchop - or, well, not really, but damn that had to be a hard hit. All Might also managed to grab the family out of harm’s way in the process, announcing that he’s on his morning commute. 

The crowds cheer for All Might, while Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods are somewhat put out - they appreciate the help, but also worry All Might will put them out of business.

(I guess this is where all those fics that do bring up how All Might cuts down the hero job market on his own pull from? Or just coincidence, who knows.)

The police thank All Might with salutes for the help, and All Might give his own quick responding salute before he declares he needs to head off so he won’t be late. Of course, that’s when he hears about a hit-and-run (that super hearing lol) and takes off, just so coincidentally in the direction of said trouble. Despite that fact that he needs to get to work. This man.

While he’s in the air, he considers how his speed has dropped, and that he’s been weakening since he passed on his power. Not to mention that after his rescue of Izuku and Katsuki from the sludge villain, his maximum time went down. Which is not at all referencing him about to overdo it again and lose more time, no siree.

We descend into a flashback to right where we left off after the battle trial, with All Might confronting Izuku about telling Katsuki about (some of) One For All. All Might is surprised and a bit nervous? Worried? Or that bead of sweat in the flashback might be from the strain of holding the form when he’s about to run out of time. 

In any case, Izuku in the past apologizes and says he hasn’t even told his mom, but that he had to tell Katsuki something… All Might determines this might be a consequence of not being explicit enough about keeping the secret, since Izuku isn’t the type to brag or boast. Also calls Izuku too sincere, hah, isn’t that the truth. All Might says it’s lucky Katsuki thought he was joking, so All Might can forgive the slip this time, but that Izuku cannot tell another soul. 

(Stares at this.) (Looks at recent manga events.) Whelp.

Anyways, All Might catches the car of the hit and run guy (and man, that face the dude is making) while thinking about how, suitable successor or not, Izuku’s still just fifteen, so All Might had to make things clear. Of course, then All Might overhears about a hostage crisis the next town over, and, well.

We transition to right after lunch (12:50) with Aizawa announcing that that day’s hero training plans - something supervised by himself, All Might, and one other teacher. Izuku realizes it has to be a special class, while Sero raises his hand to ask what they’re doing. Aziawa’s reply?

I swear this is exactly the same shit All Might did before the battle trial, gimme a second-

Bahahahaha incredible. Though then again, I wonder if those are security cards keys to certain locations. It would make sense, though then I wonder how Katsuki and Izuku were able to get into Training Ground Beta without one… hrm…

Anyways! Kaminari, Ashido, and Kirishima end up talking about it; Kaminari says it’ll be a rough day, with Ashido pumped as she agrees, and Kirishima also pumped as he says that it’s what being a hero is all about. Asui notes that she’ll be right as home in a flood. Aizawa silences them with a glare, saying he’s not done. He presses the button to unveil the costume lockers, telling the class that it’s their choice whether or not to wear their costumes, since some of them are ill-suited for this kind of activity.

Oh boy, will this put you on the path to the hero you’ll be come… but not for the reasons you think, buddy. The joke here is trauma.

It seems like most of the class does still choose to go in costume, barring Izuku - whose costume is still being repaired after the damage done to it in battle training. However, he still has his belt, gloves, knee pads, and mouth guard (with the mouth guard being new) on him. 

Golly, I wonder why your costume needed to be replaced, Izuku.

(thonk.)

Also Tenya jkfdkjdgfkj Oh My God You Dramatic Egg. He’s got a whistle and he’s directing the class to line up by ID number so they can fill the seats in an orderly fashion. 

I’m love this boy so much. And it’s even funnier because the bus has an open layout, meaning it was pointless. Poor Tenya is in Despair, with Ashido teasing him for his efforts being wasted. 

Savage. But yeah, looks like it’s Sato, Izuku, Asui, Kirishima, Tenya, Ashido, Aoyama, and Kaminari in the front seats. And Asui - sorry, Tsuyu - just outright says she says what’s on her mind, which startles Izuku since he didn’t expect her to talk to him I guess? She tells Izuku to call her Tsuyu, then turns to him and just says his quirk resembles All Might’s. 

Izuku, being the sincere boy he is, stutters and stumbles out something that almost looks like a denial, before Kirishima, bless his himbo soul, points out that All Might doesn’t get hurt by his own quirk, so they’re already different in that way. He then goes on to state that that kind of simple, strength enhancing quirk is awesome and that a lot of cool stuff can be done with it. 

Kirishima then goes on to show off his hardening, saying that it’s good for a fight, but otherwise boring. Midoriya ‘holy fuck I love quirks’ Izuku thinks otherwise, actually sparkling as he proclaims the quirk to be neat and more than enough for going pro. Kaminari notes that heroes also have to worry about popular appeal. Aoyama says his navel laser quirk is both strong and cool, and thus perfect for heroics. Ashido then kneecaps him by adding in that that’s as long as he doesn’t blow up his own stomach.

Ashido’s Savagery: The Sequel.

In the next panel, we see Katsuki’s been paying attention to this convo, which has me wondering if this is when he was first starting to piece together OFA from Izuku’s mention of ‘getting the quirk from someone else’ and ‘like All Might’s’. However, when he is brought up in the conversation (alongside Shouto) as examples of ‘strong and cool quirks’, he feigns disinterest and looks away, trying to play cool.

(Also, he doesn’t seem to have his gauntlets on him here, though I know he’s brought one with him as seen a bit later. I wonder whether he chose to leave one of them behind or if he might have been restricted from bringing more than one by Aizawa… interesting either way.)

Tsuyu then brings up how Katsuki being so unhinged means he’ll never be popular. Katsuki, naturally, takes offence and slams his hands on the rail in front of him, demanding to know what she just said. Tsuyu sticks out her tongue as she points at him making her point. Poor Jirou, having to be seated next to someone so loud.

And the moment literally the whole discord was waiting for, Kaminari’s brutal vocabulary takedown of Katsuki, something cut entirely from the anime. Friendly reminder that Kaminari is, in fact, a major lit nerd! He’s Not Dumb! Stop Making Him Dumb In Fics! He not only has the most verbose vocabulary in the class that isn’t from the rich kids (and in some ways is even more so), he also has Katsuki absolutely pegged despite only knowing him for a few days. He Earned His UA Spot.

While Katsuki snaps back at Kaminari, Izuku is hunched over in disbelief that Katsuki’s the one getting bullied for once, but he supposes that that’s UA for you…

To the side, Yaomomo declares the conversation vulgar, while Ochako is laughing and saying it’s fun. Offscreen, I’m assuming that it’s Kaminari mock-marvelling at how he didn’t think Katsuki’s mouth could get any fouler. 

The last panel on the page is Aizawa interrupting them to announce that they’ve arrived at the training grounds, and to look sharp. The whole class (I guess?) snaps to attention.

And that’s the halfway point, so I will leave the USJ proper for next time! This has been a Savage Mina and Smart Denki appreciation post, so appreciate them, or else.

[kyber-kisses]

Through A Mothers Eyes (Part 3)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the masterlist!

Warnings: crack, cursing, idiots to lovers trope (that good shit)

Summary: When Mary meets Deans closest and best friend, she cant help but see the chemistry between them. . .but she might be the only one as well.

A/n: Its back! It took me awhile to motivate myself to write the next chapter, but I did it! I hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated! (gif made by rainbow-motors)

If Mary thought living in a bunker with her two sons and you was chaotic. . . She was definitely not prepared at all for what game night meant. Not. One. Bit.

It was like a fucking war zone.

Halfway through Jenga she almost expected you and Dean to slap on some war paint, she had never seen such competitive people before in her life.

And then you brought out Uno.

“Fuckin demolish him Cas!” You yelled, hands planted firmly on the table as you watched the angel and hunter slap down colored cards furiously. You, Sam, and Mary had all lost already, resulting in you being Cas’s new hype man.

“Y/N, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“There are no sides in Uno, Dean!”

“Then why the hell are you cheering on Cas?!” Dean slapped down another card. The two were almost running out of cards to play that it hit the point where Sam had to start shuffling the played cards so they could continue. “As your best friend let me just say; I find that insulting.”

“False. Cas is actually my best friend.” You responded bluntly, raising your hand to connect it with the angels in a loud high five.

Dean paused to narrow his eyes in your direction. “. . . Anyways, as your best friend- I’m telling you, you can’t pick sides.”

“Oh and where pray tell did you get that idea from?”

“The best friend rule book.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah, let’s whip that one out and crack it open, I’d love to read it!” You paused, turning to his mother with a soft smile. “I’m so sorry you have to witness this. He’s just a pain in my ass.”

Resting her chin in her hand, Mary returned the smile, still mildly amused at what was playing out in front of her. “I can tell. But I’m pretty sure he’s a pain in everyone’s butt.”

Deans mouth popped open in shock as his lips momentarily failed at trying to form words. “Now you’re taking her side too?!”

“I mean-“ you paused, flicking your hair over your shoulder. “I am fucking amazing. Plus, your mom just knows who the cooler person is out of the two of us-“

“Oh you little-“ dean growled, rolling up his sleeves after slapping his cards down on the table.

“Is this really necessary?” Cas muttered, eyes still on his cards and clearly trying to plan his next move.

“Oh you fuckin know it.”

“Maybe your mom should just adopt me. I could replace you! I am way more fun!” You laughed, backing up as Dean slowly rose from his seat. “Plus, you’re moms way more cool than you.” You joked, eyes lighting up when you looked at Dean and saw him moving towards you. You maneuvered around the table, the two of you moving back and forth as you tried to dodge Dean, trying to keep the table between you.

“You’re such an asshole!”

“You know it baby.” Shooting him a wink you ducked behind Sam's large frame, using him as a shield.

“Oh no- don’t go bringing me into this.” Sam tried, shaking his head as you gripped his shoulders.

“Just hold him off for me will ya?”

“And what do I get in return?”

“. . . the next time its your turn for a supply run, ill do it.”

A pause. “Deal.”

“Sam!”

The younger Winchester shrugged as he held out his arms, stopping Dean from reaching you. “What? Y/Ns more negotiable that you are.”

You let out a cackle before standing on your top toes to press a firm kiss to Sams cheek. “Thanks Samantha!”

You took off down the hallway before Dean could even attempt to move Sam. The younger Winchester continuing to block his brother as he tried to move past him. After a moment Dean gave up, falling back into his seat. “Alright, fine. I admit defeat. . .you can put your arms down..”

“If I do are you gonna go kill her?”

“. . . Maybe.”

“Dean!” Mary hissed, shaking her head at her sons antics.

“What? She’s a pain in the ass!”

Mary only shook her head again. That was until Cas spoke up again. “Am I supposed to say Uno?”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The rest of the night became much calmer after that, you and Dean were back to your usual shenanigans and held up in the Dean cave watching some old western, Sam had headed off to bed because apparently you and Dean “drain his energy” Or whatever. Cas was for some reason still up cataloging some of the bunkers lore. As for mother Winchester, she found herself seated at the kitchen table, reading a book you had lent her a little over a week ago.

Mary almost didn’t see you walk in at first, with most of the lights still off it was like darkened hallway spit you out. Hands in the pockets of your sweatpants you quietly trudged into the room, pausing at the sight of Mary.

“You liking the book?”

Mary looked up, a small smile gracing her lips at the sight of you. “Yes I am, thank you for lending it to me.”

“No problem. Honestly it was just sitting on my desk collecting dust. I read it and never picked it up again” You admitted with a shrug. Walking past her, you filled your empty glass at the sink before moving back and lowering yourself into the seat across from her. “I’m sorry about earlier. Deans and Is energy can be a little overwhelming at times.”

“You don’t need to apologize. If anything I should be thanking you.” She closed her book, folding her arms over the surface of the table.

“What for?”

Mary let out a sigh. “Even if I haven’t been back for very long, it’s easy to see the effect you have on Dean. He’s happier when you're around, you get him to laugh more than anyone else here.”

“I think you're just seeing his slow decent into insanity.” You chuckled, looking down at your folded hands. “I’m told I have that effect on people.”

“Oh I don’t think that’s true.”

You opened your mouth to answer but stopped when you looked past Mary, eyebrow instantly raising. “What?”

Mary turned in her seat, her eyes finding her oldest son standing in the darkened doorway, your blue blanket wrapped around him. Dean narrowed his eyes at you. “You left me.”

“. . . I’m sorry?”

He stepped down into the kitchen, eyes still glazed over with a slight sleepiness. “It was rude.”

“You were asleep! I didn’t want to wake you up!” You threw your hands in the air, unable to believe the man sinking down into the vacant seat next to you. He yawned, his head falling against your shoulder as he closed his eyes.

“But by your didn’t have to leave me by myself. I woke up and you were gone.”

You rolled your eyes, hand coming up to pat the side of his head. “You poor baby, whatever shall you do now?”

“Mmm haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Did you really just come in here to fall asleep on me again? Just go to bed Dean.”

“Don’t wanna.” He sighed, wrapping your blanket tighter around him.

“I swear you like a five year old.”

“I am not.”

“You totally are.” You paused. “But seriously Dean, go to bed. I ain’t dragging you down the hallway to your room when you fall asleep on me again.” You gave him another pat before standing up put your now empty glass in the sink, having practically chugged it moments before.

Groaning once more, Dean slowly blinked his eyes open and turned his attention to his mother. “What are you still doing up? I thought you went to bed.”

“Couldn’t sleep, thought I’d stay up and read instead. Y/N lent me a book to read.”

Turning his head to look between you and his mom he shook it in disbelief. “God, I live with a bunch of nerds.”

“Dean you can’t say anything about that. You're like the biggest nerd out of all of us.”

“. . . Shut up. Plus, you're no better. If anything I'm this way because of you.”

“Sure, Jan. You keep telling yourself that.”

Dean paused when he looked back over to his mom, seeing a soft smile on her features. “What?”

“Just the two of you-“

“What about the two of us?” He questioned, sliding the blanket off of his shoulders as he stood up before folding it and handing it back to its rightful owner.

“I just- I think you two would make a cute couple.”

There was a pause as the two of you looked at each other.

“Me? . . .And her?” Dean threw a thumb over his shoulder in your direction.

“Me and Dean?”

Another pause. And then a light laugh was bubbling up from both of your throats- before quickly turning into full bellied laughter. Dean had his hands planted on his knees and your head was thrown back as you grabbed at you gut. The two of you quickly dissolving into fits of hysteria. It went on for a good minute before starting to fizzle out.

Ahaha! Whew-“ Dean chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes as he stood up properly again. “That- that was good.”

“Oh god-“ you bent over, hands still on your sides. “My gut hurts- I haven’t laughed like that in awhile.” You panted.

“Yeah, thank you for that mom.” Dean patted his mother’s shoulder as he passed. “That just made my entire day.”

Once you had mostly regained your composure, you took a deep breath. “Okay, well as much fun as that was- I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight Mary, Dean.” Giving gone last nod you stepped into the hallway along with Dean, the two of you connecting your palms in a loud high five before walking off in separate directions.

Meanwhile Mary sat silently at the table, the only thing running through her mind being what the fuck just happened?

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[zuffer-weird-girl]

Hello! I really love the last request of Overhaul x Shy quirkless reader but also secretly a badass!! I think all of ur writings about Overhaul are amazing!! Do you mind to make part 2 of it please? Maybe overhaul's s/o get kidnapped (although I could see it was impossible) but when he come to rescue her, he found her standing cleaning her hands and see all of the men lying on the floor and bleeding? (in the enemy's base) Thank you!

Daww;

"Sorry for the interruption Overhaul; but there's this guy wanting to talk to you... He said it's urgent." Spoke Mimic handing the yakusa boss the phone.

Chisaki stared questioningly at his comrade then at the phone in his hand. There wasn't any meetings marked for today, less alone any calls for supposed new recruits.

He answered the phone with a serious greeting than it all started...

"Listen closely Overhaul or whoever the fuck you are." The man on the other side of the call whispered "We know of the existence of your little plaything, (Y/N) am I right? Real pretty..." he could hear some muffled noice on the backround making his whole body go straight in allert and disgust as he heard the other's man despicable laugh.

"We know that you have a certain thing for this little one here, and we've got her right here... So ya better follow our commands, got that? We want at least one billion yens, you know? Such a beautiful girl is worth it... Ever hour that passes and we didn't got the money, each one of her fingers will be cutted out of her precious body..."

Overhaul really had to control himself for not breaking the cellphone right there, this insect was going to suffer worse than the devil could ever do to this despicable and useless soul in hell.

"Not to sound like a dream-breaker, but you didn't got her..." he laughed bitterly "No, no... You better count the seconds and enjoy the lasts moments of your miserable life." He spited the words and angrily ended the call as he hitted with full force the cellphone on the table.

Even Mimic flinched at the sudden wrath from his boss... Mimic dude...

He followed anyway...

Overhaul stormed his way out of the room demanding Chrono's, Rappa's and Nemoto's presence.

"What's the deal Overhaul?" Asked Kurono; still fixing in hurry his plague mask over his face; accompanying besides Chisaki.

Just for one day he decided to trust another person to take care of you after so many of your complains.

'These guys deserve a break from me Kai, seriously I lost count of how many times I had Kurono to watch over me, give them just a little vacation? Please? For me?' How could he deny such a pretty face and those precious puppy dog eyes?

Well look at what happened.

"Where's that good for nothing guard?" He asked already taking his gloves off, yes both of them.

Before Chrono could even reply, they found the guard; beat up; trembling from his head to toe already pleading for mercy.

"B-Boss! I'm really sorry about this! But they were so much fas-" he immediately shut up when Overhaul grabbed him by the colar of his shirt and hitted him on the wall.

"I. Don't. Want. To. Heart it... You've had one job, and you failed miserably." He spoke with anger before the poor man was overhauled merciless...

"Someone clean that up..." he demanded before returning to his huried pace out of the base with his comrades right after him.

It wasn't difficult to find where the miserably gang were hiding; a typical abandoned building far away from the city... Chisaki anxiously bounced his knee as thoughts of you appeared in his mind.

If even a single scratch was engraved on your perfect angelic skin they would see why the name Overhaul was so feared in the underworld...

When the car stopped, Chisaki was the first one to get out and didn't even request Rappa's assistence when he overhauled the door already planning his soon genocide...

"What the actUAL fUcK?!" Yelled Mimic at seing the scene in front of them.

The five mans stared at shook at the scene, everybody layed on the ground; bleeding endless; some of them even had gigantic bruises and jesus fucking christ is that a scissor stuck on a man's temple?!

Overhaul was surprisingly in shook... what in all heavens happened in here? Where the fuck were you?

"Holy shit..." Chrono muttered at seing two figurines, one standing right in front of a beat up other. Chisaki followed his gaze and his heart beat quickened.

It was you...

"D-Dammit-!" Whispered in pain the guy; probably the boss; as he holded tightly his injured shoulder "W-what the hell even are you? A freaking killing machine?"

"Please, I didn't kill all of them..." you spoke coldly as you wiped the knife in your hand in your clothes like it was a simple pare of glasses "You haven't seen all of the Shie Hassaikai members, have you?" You pointed the tip of the now cleaned up knife at the men in kness in front of you "Trust me; What I did here is equivalent to carres a child when they go to bed compared to what one of the eight precepts of death would do... Imagine Overhaul himself..."

The man trembled as he tried to get up mumbling a curse at you. You quickly kicked the guy on the jaw; in consequence making him fall to his back; and steped at his chest, forcing him on the ground even with the diference of your body compared to his much bigger one.

"Trash like you are supposed to stay on the ground... Treated. Like pigs..." you whisper at the quivering man, never breaking eye contact.

"What are you going to do now you bitch? Kill me?" He said in anger but the trembling betrayed his false confidence.

"No..." you tried wipping away some blood from your face with your sleeve "Dammit... you all left me in this state, he hates messes... Disgusting..." you said as your rubbing intensifies as an effort to scrub the blood away.

Okay, he wasn't suppose to feel that atracted to you right now, but goddamn.

"Quick and short, if I killed you... then I would take the pleasure away from Overhaul. Better be quiet until-" you turned just a little and caught the sign of Rappa, Mimic, Nemoto and Chrono staring at you almost immobile and probably with wide eyes, and your boyfriend staring with a look rather pleasant but still surprised as well.

"E-erm... h-hi?" You could feel your face starting to heat up even at your current state.

The silenty atmosphere were replaced at Chisaki's slowly clapping hands.

"Once again you impressed me angel." He said with nothing but proud in his voice.

"Actually, everyone in here..." mumbled quietly Nemoto still trying to process this whole thing.

The guy thought that this was a good chance to escape, but just as soon he moved a little bit; Chrono shooted at his hand quickly as you yelped and jumped away from the man.

Chisaki made his way to you, checking for any injuries... There was a single cut in the left side of your cheek that, even being the tiniest, made Chisaki's blood boil in rage.

"I will take care of this later; right now I have some... bussines to attend to, my angel." he discreetly touched his plague mask at your cheek in a attempt to show a suppost kiss making you almost faint in the spot if it wasn't for his firm hold on you.

He directed his gaze at Mimic and spoke "Accompany her outside and make sure she is out of any danger." He caressed your back gently as a signal for you to follow him "And give her something to clean herself a little.. "

You followed Mimic outside of the building, even more nervous as you felt eyes following your figurine... Why did this had to happen? You thought rubbing your face in shame.

"Yo that was freaking awesome and unexpected..." Mimic praised as he walked "No wonder you're Overhaul's girlfriend huh?!"

You felt your whole face heat up at the compliment; smiling dumbly as you touch the part of your cheek Kai had touched and remembering his look of relief yet of pure proud.

The peace was soon interrupted as screams of terror and pain filled the quiet night.

"Aaaand they start it..." said Mimic opening the door for you.

"Dear god Chisaki..." you mumbled worriedly.

"You do know very well that he is just warming up right?" You desperately exhaled.

"I-I do..."

It was going to be a long night...

[cutietobio]

Hello!! Sorry to bother you but, could you write a scenario with Bokuto in which the reader has had a terrible first week of school? Thank you so much!!

hey, anon! you’re not a bother at all. I hope you enjoy this, thank you for requesting. If your request is based on your experiences I hope that school will get better for you! ❤︎

also, I know the homework scenario might not be all that realistic, but oh well.

BOKUTO

Your first day back to school had been nothing short of terrible and you quickly realized it was due to the fact that you didn’t have Bokuto, your boyfriend, to cheer you up throughout the day anymore. Being a third-year and a year younger than your boyfriend, this meant he had already graduated Fukurōdani Academy, free from the hellish grasps of school. 

You could tell Akaashi missed his presence too, however, the setter wouldn’t admit it. He did speak about how empty it was during volleyball practice, with you nodding in understanding, being able to relate with the emptiness in your heart. It may have seemed a bit pathetic, being dependent on Bokuto like this and allowing his absence to upset you. But during your first and second year of high school, he made it his priority to keep you happy. He wouldn’t allow a frown to remain on your face for too long, and he knew just how to replace it with a genuine smile in a matter of seconds. 

And now, that was gone. Nobody had been able to cheer you up since you walked onto the school grounds that dreaded Monday morning. Akaashi tried, and you were grateful for it, but he just wasn’t Bokuto. Akaashi understood why his attempts at making you smile were failing and he even informed Bokuto of your sad nature through a text he sent his ex-ace during lunch.

The message worried Bokuto, he was unable to visit you due to being on vacation with his family, having already been gone for more than a week, but face-timed you as soon as you got home. Seeing his new sun-kissed face definitely helped and he shared words of encouragement, doing most of the talking. 

“I love you, (Name). Be strong, okay? It’s not long now and then it will be over, we can move in together like we promised!” He excited voice filtered through the speaker of your phone and you grinned at his words, making his eyes light up at the sight of it. Even after both of you hung up and continued chatting through messenger, the smile on your face remained. He helped immensely, and now you felt as if you could take on the world, anything to survive until the end of the school year when both of you could fulfil your promise.

This happiness remained until Tuesday morning, but all came tumbling down throughout the school day as you were given task after task and multiple stacks of homework sheets to complete for the next day. It was hopeless, as you stared at your desk filled with over several things in need of completion for the next day. You knew your third year wouldn’t be easy, but you never expected it to get so stressful only after a day. Bokuto blew up your phone like crazy, concerned as to why you weren’t messaging him back. Your stare remained blank on your over-flowing desk, your procrastination a result of the overwhelming stress. 

You managed to finish everything around two in the morning, deciding you wouldn’t rush through it, no matter how badly you wanted to so you could get it over with. You were adamant at keeping your grades as good as they usually were, even better, if possible. Before heading to bed, in which you would only be able to remain for about four hours, you texted Bokuto, ignoring the multitude of messages he had sent you during the time you were busy. You’d make sure to read them the next morning.

“Heading to bed now, sorry for not replying, busy day. I love you.” Even under your sleep-deprived state, you wouldn’t dare forget to remind him about how much you loved him. With the message sent, you fell right asleep.

Wednesday wasn’t brilliant either, you tried out for (insert sport of choice) club and could already tell you wouldn’t be getting in. Even if you did, there was no way you would become a regular. You wanted to blame it on the equipment or the lack of sleep you had last night but instead blamed yourself. You were the problem, you weren’t good enough. After tryouts, you ended up crying softly in a vacant stall of the empty girl’s bathroom, unable to hold it in until you got home.

Upon arriving home later that day, the only thing your energy-ridden body was able to execute was eating dinner and doing homework, knowing your answers to everything would all be wrong, seeing as you half-assed your way through everything. You didn’t even care at this point, the will to keep your grades up vanished, and fell asleep around seven in the evening, sending Bokuto a small message beforehand. 

Bokuto read your message with a frown, going to bed at seven? He knew something must have happened and decided to call Akaashi, not wanting to wake you, knowing fully well that you must have been in need of the sleep. Especially since you went to bed at around two that morning. Bokuto counted the hours of sleep you would have gotten, and four made his stomach twist in anxiety, bothered by the state of your well-being.

Akaashi was unable to give him a definite reason as to why you weren’t acting your normal self, he just brought up the fact that you missed him and it may have had something to do with the overloading of work that the third-years were given. Bokuto understood, having been there before himself, he supposed it was much easier to get through due to having you by his side every school day (minus the rare occasions you were absent, Bokuto felt like he was dying during those days and would sulk around the whole day. Akaashi hated having to deal with him through it.) Bokuto was beginning to enjoy his vacation less and less, his minds plagued with the thought of you. Were you okay? What were you doing at that exact moment? Had you been…crying? The possibility alone was enough to make him want to do the same.

When you woke up that Thursday morning, it wasn’t to the tune of your alarm but instead your ringtone. Rolling over to grab your phone, you were surprised to find Bokuto calling you so early. You answered the call, mumbling out a sleepy, “Hello?” in greeting and in question.

The uneasy sound of his voice was evident through the speaker, his words jumbled up together at the fast rate he was speaking, with you unable to understand a thing. Eventually, you managed to calm him down and listen to what he had to say.

“(Name), I don’t know what’s going on. I understand you’re busy but I’m here for you angel. I’m worried about you, I couldn’t sleep last night at the thought of you being upset.” Hearing that made you feel worse, you had been burdening him?

“And don’t you dare think you’re a burden!” His voice raised louder this time and your eyes widened, were you speaking out loud or something?

“I know you’re thinking it.” He quickly added in and your rigid shoulders relaxed, your eyes closing as you laughed lightly. He laughed too, but you could tell by the sounds of it that he was still worried.

“Bokuto…” You started and he sighed out,

“I missed your voice, (Name).” His words came out as a genuine, longing mumble and you blushed at the sincerity of them. 

“I miss you.” You said and he was quick to defend himself,

“I miss you too! Not just your voice, I miss you, your everything!” Hearing him frantically correct himself through the phone made you laugh again and he quietened down at the blissful sound.

Silence overcame the both of you, but it was comfortable, you laid with your eyes closed, heart-swelling and lips turned into a smile.

“Skip school tomorrow,” Bokuto spoke up, interrupting the silence. In the background, you could hear the sounds of a zipper. You would have accepted his suggestion, but

“I can’t, Bokuto. You know I can’t,” You sighed, the mentioning of school putting a damper on your mood. It was already ten past six, you would have to start getting ready for the day soon if you didn’t want to wind up being late. A shuffle and the opening of a door sounded through his line, you figured he must have been walking around.

“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.” He stated casually as if your mom would really be open to letting you stay home from school with no valid reason.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his bold statement, “Okay, if she says yes then sure.” You said confidently, knowing fully well that it wouldn’t come to that.

“Great!” He exclaimed, sounding pleased by your words. You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see you doing so, yet you were proven wrong,

“I sense you shaking your head, don’t doubt my awesome persuasion skills. Plus, your mom loves me!” You couldn’t deny the fact that your mom really loved Bokuto, she would always bring up the topic of marriage when he was around and you would find an excuse to get away from it, wanting to spare yourself the embarrassment.

“We’ll see, also, what are you doing?” You questioned, the constant shuffling of what sounded like clothing beginning to intrigue you. 

“Uh…” Bokuto fell silent, and you could tell he was searching his brain for any excuse he could give, “Nothing!” Wow.

“Anyway, don’t you have to get ready for school? Wouldn’t want you to be late.” He spoke quickly, hoping to change the subject which you quickly noticed was his intention.

“Oh? But you want me to skip school tomorrow, I don’t see the logic.” You smiled at the sound of him sighing out in fake annoyance.

“Don’t worry, I won’t force you to tell me.”

“Good, I’ll see you soon, babe. I love you!”

“I love you to- wait, soon?” Before you could question what he meant, he quickly hung up and you laughed out, finding his actions amusing.

“Oh, Bokuto…” You mumbled to yourself, smiling at your phone endearingly. A message suddenly popped out, it was no surprise that it had been sent by your boyfriend. You read the message and sighed out like a lovesick fool,

“I love you more!”

-

Nothing during that Thursday managed to put you down. Not even the handing out of an important math assignment or being informed that you didn’t become a regular on the club you signed up for. It was fine, there were many other clubs you could sign up for. Maybe you would get into volleyball this year, something your boyfriend suggested continuously, thinking you would be perfect for it. 

The thought of pleasing him with such a decision made you even happier, confusing Akaashi throughout the day.

“Did you say something to (Name)?” He texted Bokuto, barely listening to you drone on about a new TV series you were excited for. Of course, it was one Bokuto had been raving about as well.

“We spoke over the phone this morning, why?” Bokuto sent back quickly, hoping Akaashi would be a bearer of good news.

“She’s much happier today.” Bokuto smiled at the message before locking his phone, his attention returning to the baggage carousel as he awaited the arrival of his luggage.

-

When you arrived home after school that day, you suspiciously found your front door already open. You would check the handle from time to time before using your keys, and were surprised to find out that the door had already been unlocked. Stuffing your keys into your pocket, you glanced at the driveway. It was definitely empty, had your mom forgotten to lock the door that morning?

Cautiously, you stepped inside, wanting to remain as quiet as possible as you made your way down the hall and into the living room. A small yelp left your lips as a figure came popping out from behind the wall, your eyes widening at the feeling of someone engulfing you into a warm hug.

There was no need to pull away in order to distinguish the person, his scent and the way your bodies fitted together so nicely giving away who it was.  

“Bokuto!” You laughed out, arms immediately flying around his neck as you deepened the hug. He had been on vacation for two weeks and he was only supposed to return that Sunday.

“You’re back early!” You exclaimed, pulling away to look at him, only for him to kiss you deeply, unable to hold back at the sight of your face.

“Yeah, I couldn’t wait to see you!” He said breathlessly upon pulling away from the kiss, both of his hands coming up to cup your red face.

“Really?” You questioned out quietly, eyes searching his own.

“Of course! The resort was nice but my princess needed me more!” He grinned, only for it to disappear at the sight of your face conforming into that of sadness, tears escaping your eyes as you pulled him into a gentle hug. You didn’t mean to start crying, all the emotions you were currently feeling overwhelmed you. You hadn’t gotten over the upsetting events of the week and the rough reality that it would only get worse, but with Bokuto here now, you knew he would be able to help you get over it.

“Hey…” he spoke out softly, rubbing your back in comforting circles. His touch was light as if he were afraid you would break at any moment, feeling fragile in his arms.

“Don’t cry.” He mumbled, his chin resting upon your head before both of his arms wrapped around your upper body in a protective manner. The sounds of your quiet sobs and sniffles ached his heart, he felt terrible himself seeing you this way.

“You must have had a bad week, huh?” He questioned light-heartedly, trying to lift your spirits. His frown deepened when the only reaction he got from you was a nod of your head.

“Is there anyone I need to beat up? I’ll call Kuroo to help.” You laughed out weakly, hey, there’s a start.

“You want to talk about it?” He questioned carefully, not wanting to upset you further, but hearing you whisper out a small ‘yes,’ calmed his nerves.

“Okay,” Pulling away from the hug, he looked down at you with a soft smile.

“But then after that, no more crying.” You merely nodded in reply, both his thumbs coming up to wipe away the tears that escaped your eyes.

“Great, we have enough time, seeing as you’re staying home tomorrow.” His eyes glinted mischievously and you stared at him, puzzled.

“You mean…?”

“I told you your mom loves me!” You shook your head in response but ultimately ended up smiling at his excited nature,

“She’s not the only one who loves you.” You said and he blushed at your honesty,

“Yeah? Well, I love you more!” 

The rest of the evening was spent discussing your terrible first few days of school, with Bokuto listening closely and giving his own input on certain things. It saddened him to hear you had suffered without him being there to help. But you shut him down quickly, stating that despite him having graduated and unable to attend school with you anymore, he was still your biggest source of happiness and it would forever remain that way.

So, what started as the dreadful first week of school, ended with tons of cuddling, tears of laughter (the only tears Bokuto would accept from you) and a lot of kisses. Oh, and he may or may not have helped you complete your whole math assignment due for that upcoming Monday. 

[evilrubberducke]

You Danced Your Way Into My Heart

Here’s a little Valentine’s day themed IzuMina one shot that I hope you all enjoy, despite it being almost a week late. 

Summary: As Mina tries to work up the courage to give her crush chocolate on Valentine's, she reflects on the encounter that started it all.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22813273 Or on FF.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13505672/1/You-Danced-Your-Way-Into-My-Heart

“Are you doing okay, Mina?” Hagakure asked, leaning over to check on her friend.

“Yep!” Mina replied, lying through her teeth. “Never better!”

She was seated in the UA cafeteria, trying and failing to enjoy her lunch. Her problem wasn’t that the food was any less delicious than normal, but that her stomach refused to stop tying itself in knots.

The source of her consternation was twofold. Part of it was the box of handmade chocolates that was burning a hole in her backpack. Satou had spent several long hours in the kitchen with her over the past week showing her how to craft the delicious treats, but it had still taken her four attempts to get them right. They were oddly shaped, a bit streaky in places, and a little saltier than she had intended, but they were also filled with all the affection she could muster. Mina hoped that would be enough to make up for the chocolate’s shortcomings.

The rest of her nerves came in the form of a green haired boy sitting on the other side of the cafeteria, excitedly discussing their upcoming hero class with his friends.

Mina wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but somewhere along the way her friendship and admiration for Midoriya had turned into something more. She hadn't even realized that was what had happened until after the culture festival.

A fond smile crossed her face as she remembered the awkward encounter that had started it all.

-

“Um, A-Ashido? D-do you have a minute?” Midoriya asked, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot.

“What’s up Midori?” Mina asked, looking up from the textbook she had been pretending to read, and the poorly disguised magazine inside it that she had actually been looking at.

“I-I was wondering if you could teach me some more dance moves? I-If you have time, that is! I don’t want to keep you from studying.”

She raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, but didn’t contradict his statement. If he wanted to think she was actually studying, and not goofing off, that was up to him.

“I can,” she said, closing her book, “But I gotta ask, what brought this on? Got the boogie fever?”

He chuckled awkwardly before replying. “N-no. There was a… uh… a thing during the culture festival. And the stuff you taught me helped me out of a really tight spot. But… I can’t help but think I could have done better if I’d had just a few more moves. So I was wondering if you could help me with that?”

A surge of warmth shot through her at his words. She wasn’t quite sure what “thing” he was talking about, but the idea that her dance moves had actually helped him out in any way was amazing. It made her feel like an actual hero, and not just a kid playing pretend.

“I’d be happy to help you, Midoriya!” she said, a smile breaking out across her face. It transformed into a mischievous grin a second later as a thought occurred to her. “I do have one condition though…”

“What’s that?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“You’ve got to call me sensei while we train!”

He coughed in surprise, which only made her grin wider, but recovered quickly. A second later, he stuck his hand out for her to shake.

“It’s a deal, Ash- Sensei.”

The title sent an odd thrill through her, and made her sit up a little straighter as she tried to live up to her self-imposed responsibility. 

“Great! How’s Friday sound for our first session?”

“That works for me.”

“Okay. See you then. Oh, and wear something you can move around in. We’re gonna have fun and work hard!”

“Will do!”

-

When Midoriya finally stepped into the classroom that Mina had reserved for their dance practice, her jaw dropped in shock. 

He was dressed in a pair of tight fitting green yoga pants that were a little too short for him, and a red tank top. Even his ever present red sneakers had been replaced with a pair of mesh running shoes.

It was the complete opposite of what he usually wore. Aside from his school uniform and hero costume, Midoriya usually favored loose, baggy clothing that accentuated his plain appearance. Now he looked like he had stepped out of some European club.

“Holy crap Midoriya!” she exclaimed, her mouth already moving before her brain could rein it in, “What’s with the outfit?”

A look of panic crossed his face as he stammered out a reply. “I-Is it not right? You said to wear something I could move around in, so I asked my mom, and she lent me her old dancing outfit, but the shirt didn’t fit, so I had to borrow one from Kirishimia, and he said it looked good, and Uraraka did too, so I thought it would be okay, but I’m so sorry if it’s not, and—”

“Midori, breathe!” Mina interrupted, stepping forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, “You’re perfectly fine. I was just surprised to see you in a different outfit than usual. Honestly, you look pretty good in it.”

She wasn’t just saying that to make him feel better either. Underneath the baggy clothes and awkward demeanor, Midoriya had been hiding quite the impressive physique. Everyone in their class was fit, of course, but Midoriya seemed to have taken it to the next level. His muscles bulged under his skin as he scratched his head, and the tank top rode up enough to give Mina a tantalizing glimpse of the stomach beneath.

She shook her head in an effort to clear her mind. A few muscles shouldn't have been enough to distract her. Kirishima's costume left him almost entirely shirtless, and that had never gotten to her before. It was probably just the surprise of seeing the normally timid Midoriya in such a flashy outfit.

"Um, t-thanks," Midoriya said with a small bow, "Y-you look nice too."

She snorted. Her own dance outfit was well worn and a bit stained in places. Still, it had been rather cute at one point, and she supposed that was still true, if one was as fashion illiterate as Midoriya.

“Thanks. But enough standing around. Are you ready to get started?”

“Yes Sensei!” he replied instantly. As he did, his entire demeanor changed. His spine stiffened, his shoulders went back, and he even raised his eyes to meet her gaze with one of steely determination. 

On the one hand, she should probably tell him that she had meant the “sensei” thing as a joke. On the other hand, he had taken it in stride, and telling him now would probably just start things out on an awkward note. So she decided to just let it go, and enjoy her new title.

“Alright! You’ve got the basics down, but it’s time to put that to the test! I’m going to teach you how to six-step!”

-

“How was that?” Midoriya asked, panting heavily from exertion.

“Hmmmm. Almost, but not quite,” Mina replied, shaking her head.

He’d done well at first, but as their lesson had progressed, Midoriya had begun to struggle more and more. His sense of rhythm was good, and he was definitely fit enough to pull the moves off. He just had a hard time flowing from one move to the next.

“You’re still putting too much weight on your wrists,” she continued, pointing to the offending appendages, “You need to let your legs do the work instead.”

He sighed, then clambered slowly to his feet to try again. He had an impressive amount of stamina, but dancing like this worked out a completely different set of muscles than combat practice, and it was obvious that he was feeling the burn.

“Sorry,” he muttered, so low she almost missed it.

“What are you sorry for?”

For a second, it didn’t look like he was going to reply. Then he let out another sigh, his excellent posture disintegrating into a defeated hunch. 

“For being a bad student.”

“Hey!” Mina said sharply, giving him a swift chop to the head that would have made Iida proud. “None of that! It takes one to know one, so I can totally say that you’re not a bad student!”

The attempt at humor did bring a small smile to his lips, though he still looked hopeless and defeated.

“Sorry. It’s just hard when I’m giving every move my all, and nothing is working.”

Mina nodded in commiseration. She opened her mouth to try to comfort him, then stopped as a thought occurred to her.

“Hey, Midori, when you say you’re giving every move your all, did you mean that literally?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t let you down by not giving it my best.”

She clapped her hands together, startling Midoriya with the sudden sound. “That’s it! That’s why you can’t get it!”

He looked at her in confusion, forcing her to explain her thought process.

“You’re treating it like a punch, and putting too much strength into each move. But it’s not about strength, it’s about balance and dexterity. If you put too much power in, you’ll throw your balance off.”

His look changed to one of incredulousness, but she forged ahead anyways.

“Okay, I know it sounds weird, but just trust me. Stop trying so hard, relax, and just let your mind go blank. I promise it’ll work!”

He shrugged, then got into the starting position she had shown him. He closed his eyes, took a series of slow, deep breaths like he was preparing to dive into a pool, and then began to dance.

Mina had to bite her lip to keep from shouting in triumph. His moves were far from perfect, but that one change had improved his technique so much it was hard to believe that he was the same person who had been struggling with these same moves just a minute ago.

“That was awesome Midori!” Mina said as he hopped back to his feet, “You totally nailed it!”

A broad smile filled his face, despite the blush in his cheeks. “T-Thanks. I had a good teacher.”

Before she knew what was happening she had crossed the short distance between them and pulled him into a tight hug. It definitely wasn’t the best hug she’d ever had, Midoriya was far too sweaty and surprised for that. At that moment, however, Mina didn’t care in the slightest. She enjoyed his warmth against her, and the way his arms came slowly up to pat her gently on the back.

Then her brain kicked back in and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She quickly broke the impromptu embrace and stepped back to a reasonable distance. 

“Hey, great lesson, but I’ve got to get going. Have a nice weekend!” Mina said hurriedly, grabbing her bag and dashing out of the classroom before Izuku could say a single word.

‘What the heck was I thinking?’ She thought furiously as she dashed down the hallway ‘Just grabbing him out of the blue. At least it was Midoriya, so he won’t think I’m in love with him just because of a hug.’

She stopped dead in the hallway as her heart skipped a beat at the thought of Midoriya falling for her. 

‘I-I don’t… I mean, he’s sweet, but we’re just friends, and… oh god, I think I like him.’

-

“— to Mina! Earth to Mina!” Hagakure said, waving her chopsticks in front of Mina’s face to get her attention.

“Huh? What’s up?”

“You’ve been staring at Midoriya for, like, 10 minutes now. I’m kinda amazed he didn’t notice.”

Mina quickly glanced at the clock to find that Hagakure was right. Lunch was nearly over, and her window to give her chocolates to Midoriya was rapidly closing. She wouldn't have another chance until classes ended for the day, and Mina wasn't sure she could wait that long without going stir crazy.

Sterling her resolve, she rose to her feet and slapped the table dramatically. 

"I'm going to do it!" she declared, hoping that stating her intentions aloud would help to quiet her nerves.

"You've got this!" Hagakure cheered, as the pink girl grabbed the box of chocolates and marched across the cafeteria.

-

“And that is why I believe that Valentine’s day is a ridiculous and old fashioned practice that should be phased out as soon as possible,” Iida finished his rant with a satisfied nod.

“So the answer is no, you didn’t get any chocolate today,” Tsuyu said, addressing the question that had set Iida off in the first place. 

She, Iida, Uraraka, and Izuku were seated at their usual table near the edge of the UA cafeteria. They had finished with their food several minutes ago, and were now waiting for their next class. Given the season, their discussion had naturally turned to the subject of Valentine’s and romance.

For Izuku, Valentine’s day had always been depressing. He had spent year after year watching his male classmates brag about how many chocolates they had received while the girls giggled in groups, daring each other to give homemade chocolates to the guys they found cute. Izuku, meanwhile, had sat forlornly at his desk, wishing for even a single friendship chocolate to magically appear. No one was ever brave or foolish enough to give him one, however. 

So it was with great surprise and elation that Izuku had received friendship chocolate from nearly every girl in the class. The candies may have been low quality (with the exception of Yaoyorozu’s ridiculously expensive imported candy bar), but to Izuku they were the most delicious treats he had ever had. 

There was a small part of him that was disappointed in the lack of one particular person’s chocolate, but he refused to acknowledge it. He was being selfish, thinking that Ashido would consider him a close friend after such a short time, and he was being completely ridiculous if he imagined receiving anything more than friendship chocolate from her.

“Tsuyu, Iida, I think it’s time for us to head back to class,” Uraraka said, drawing Izuku back from his thoughts. Her gaze was focused across the cafeteria, and a small, knowing smile graced her lips.

“An excellent suggestion, Uraraka!” Iida said happily, “Taking extra time to prepare for our next class will only improve our performance!”

“Whatever you say, kero,” Tsuyu said, rising to her feet and grabbing his arm, “Come on, Iida. Let's make ourselves scarce."

Izuku tried to rise with them, but Uraraka shoved him back into his seat before he could finish.

"Not you. You're staying here right here,” she said forcefully.

“Wait, why am I…” Before he could finish, Uraraka had walked off, leaving him alone and extremely confused. Thankfully, he wasn’t alone for very long.

“H-Hey Midoriya!” Ashido said, walking up to his table. Instead of taking a seat, she stood just to his side, with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Oh, hello Ashido. Are you feeling okay?" he asked, noticing that her usual pink complexion was much paler than usual. 

“I’m fine. Just a little under the weather. But that’s not important. There’s… there’s something I want to ask you.”

He was a little surprised at how circumspect she was being. Normally she just barreled forward without much thought for the consequences. Whatever problem she was having must have been very important. He turned his full attention towards her words as he nodded for her to continue. Her training and advice had been incredibly beneficial to him, not to mention how much he enjoyed spending time with her. Helping with her problem was the very least he could do.

“Okay…” she said, swallowing loudly. Then, she brought her hands, and the package they held around and thrust it towards him. “I wanted to give you these, and to ask if you wanted to go see a movie this weekend?”

The package was small and covered in heart-patterned wrapping paper, with a small bow wrapped around it. A small white tag in the upper corner had his name on it, with a small heart in place of the dot on the I.

His brain ground to a halt as the implications of the present, and the question she had just asked registered for him.

“A-A movie? This weekend? Like… Like a d-d-d-date?”

Her cheeks burned lilac as she nodded, her eyes firmly fixed on his feet. 

“W-W-W-With me?”

Another nod.

“I-I, uh, I would l-love to.”

Slowly, her eyes rose to meet his once more as a wide smile bloomed on her face. Her eyes seemed to shine, turning her irises to liquid gold, and she began to bounce on her heels with excitement.

Izuku felt his heart skip a beat at the sight. He had noticed long ago that she was pretty, but in that moment she looked more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen before.

“Great!” Ashido said, clasping his hand in hers as she thrust the box of chocolates into his grasp, “I’ll text you after class and we can pick something out!”

With that she spun on her heel and marched out of the cafeteria, leaving Izuku to slowly melt down as the fact that a pretty girl had just asked him out finally registered. 

Mina, meanwhile, made it all the way out of the cafeteria before she let out a shriek of excitement and elation and ran off to tell Hagakure about everything that had just happened.

[blueandyellow1]

Witch Hunt Chapter 7: Connie

Ao3 link

“Hey, Blue! How was your day?” Yellow had given the spirit the nickname for the blue color she sometimes exuded.

The blonde had just come back from work and was sitting at the tiny table eating dinner. Blue was hovering just above the chair opposite her. The two had fallen into an easy routine. The phantom would wait for her friend to return from work, and they would talk late into the night. Yellow would share stories of her classes, and her dojo which was thriving.

And Blue would share the happenings in the building. Yellow learned about all the residents and their odd habits. The invisible girl never failed to make her laugh. She felt so lucky to have stumbled into this special friendship. Her evenings were now filled with chatter instead of lonely silence. She loved how she and the spirit could speak about anything and everything.

Well, almost everything. There was one topic that Blue wouldn’t touch on. Her sister. After the first mention of the beloved girl, Blue never mentioned her again. Yellow didn’t know why but didn’t want to press. It was clearly a sensitive subject, so Yellow never pressed. But her curiosity burned just the same.

||It was alright, Yellow. The twins down the hall had their fifth birthday today. It was cute to watch, but they had a magician who wasn’t very good. I had to help him more than once.||

Yellow grins. “They should have tipped you, then!”

||It would have been very embarrassing for him. But luckily, he was able to hear me.||

Blue said as she twisted a strand of hair around a slender finger.

“You’re a lifesaver,” the blonde complimented before changing the subject, “Are you ready to meet my sister Connie? She should be here in an hour.”

The meeting with her sister was much awaited by both women. Yellow’s friends, Jasper and Pearl, had stayed the weekend before, but neither were able to hear the ghost. Her friends weren’t very well versed in the supernatural, so Blue had decided to save the introductions for another time.

But Connie would be much different. Not only did she know more than Yellow about ghosts, she was coming to see the phantom.

||I suppose so. But she won’t be able to hear me, correct?||

Blue began to pace nervously, still pulling at her hair.

“I don’t think so. She’s never been able to hear ghosts before. But you’re not a ghost, so maybe she will be able to? I don’t really know how any of this works,” Yellow admitted.

Blue was silent. The prospect of someone coming to meet her was still a foreign concept in her mind. It had been so long, and she felt woefully out of touch with social processes.

Luckily, the blond seemed to sense her thoughts. “Hey, don’t worry! Connie’s really nice and if she can’t hear you, then I’ll just tell her what you say.”

An invisible smile stretched across the spirit’s lips. She could do this.

…

“Yellow! Azurea! It’s Connie!”

A black-haired woman stood knocking outside Yellow’s apartment. The door was quickly opened, and she was ushered in.

Yellow swept her older sister into a hug. “Connie! I’m so glad you could make it. How were finals?”

Connie grinned, her eyes sparkling behind her round glasses. “They were fine, but enough about boring things. Let me meet Azurea!”

The phantom was watching the two sisters exchange greetings from the middle of the room. Her mouth was set in a nervous line, wringing her slender hands together below her waist.

“Come over and meet my sister, Blue,” the blonde calls, looking in her general direction.

Blue walks over to the pair as Connie asks, “Blue?”

A slight blush crept onto the pale woman’s face. “Yeah, well I called her ‘blue-girl’ once, and she didn’t like the ‘girl’ part. She said it didn’t sound very nice. But ‘Blue’ stuck, so I call her that now.”

Connie was now close enough for Blue to touch. She hesitated, not knowing what to say, and cursed herself for being so shy.

||Hello.||

Two eyes snap to look in her direction. “Wow, you have such a pretty voice!” Connie says happily.

Blue breathes a sigh of relief. She can hear me.

||Thank you.||

“This is awesome,” Connie continues, “my first ghost encounter! Although, Yellow told me you’re not really a ghost.”

When Blue failed to respond, Yellow placed a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Blue can be a bit shy. Try not to overwhelmed her, Cons.”

The phantom’s heart swelled at Yellow’s protectiveness. Surged with new courage, she finds her voice once more.

||It’s very nice to meet you, Connie.||

“So, what’s it like being a ghost, Blue?” The older woman’s dark eyes bore through her transparent form.

||It’s lonely.||

“I bet it is,” Connie said sympathetically, “I’m really glad you and Yellow are friends.”

||She is very kind.||

The blonde grinned. “Thanks, Blue.”

“What do you miss most about being alive?” Connie asked boldly.

Yellow pursed her lips, frowning at the probing question. But before she could chastise her sister, Blue spoke.

||Connection.||

“Mm,” Connie said pensively. She barely hesitated before plunging into the next question, “Yellow told me that you sacrificed yourself for your sister. Do you miss her?”

Blue’s hands flew to her mouth. She wasn’t expecting such a question. Her body tensed, ready to run away, but something in the dark-haired woman’s eyes made her stay. There was a kindness, a genuine curiosity in them. She decided to answer truthfully.

||I do. Watching her age was beautiful, but painful.||

Dark eyebrows lower slightly as Connie concentrated on the soft voice. “Tell me more.”

“Connie,” Yellow said suddenly, sharply.

Brown eyes slide over to the blonde. “I just want to hear more,” Connie said innocently.

“It’s—“ Yellow began, but was cut off by a sudden tightness in her throat. The room was bathed in an indigo light. She felt the pain begin in her chest and tears well up in her eyes.

Connie seemed unaffected by the wave of emotion. “Pathokinesis!” she said, watching her sister slump down.

A wail came through the apartment, like a hurricane.

||I watched her die!||

Yellow fell to the ground. She opened her mouth to shout comforting words to the phantom, but she was too late. Memories were spilling from of Blue’s mouth, a story from distant times tumbling out.

...

A woman lay in a large bed, surrounded by blankets and pillows. Her face was old, wrinkled. Her once light brown hair streaked white, her curls spilling around on the pillows.

Surrounding the bed are three younger ladies.Her daughters. The frail woman reaches her hand out to them, whispering loving words. Tears were flowing freely.

Suddenly, the older woman sat up, pushing herself up on shaking arms. “Is there are any word on Azurea? Has anyone located her?”

The three women exchange a sorrowful glance. “No, Mother,” one says gently, “No one could locate her. I’m sorry.”

A look of desolation flashes through the sickly woman’s face. “I see.”

Above the four women, floats a spirit. Tears are streaming from her somber eyes. Her lips move as she whispers unheard words.

||Rozalia...oh Rozalia...Pink!||

“I just wish I could see her one last time.” The older woman whispers, clutching one of her daughter’s hands.

“You’ll see her soon,” soothes the girl standing by her head.

“Yes,” adds another, “She may have already passed over to the Otherworld.”

“I suppose.”

She falls back into the bed, closing her eyes.

As the time passes, her breathing becomes calmer. Every few minutes, one of the girls will squeeze her hands, whispering to her that everything will be alright.

The spirit watches, floating closer and closer, until she stands right next to the three daughters. As the night passes, her whispers gradually grow louder and louder, until she’s shouting into the room.

||I LOVE YOU PINK! WHY CAN’T YOU HEAR ME!!||

But her words went unheard.

After some time, the old woman begins to cough, her breathing becoming labored. She uses the last of her strength to draw her daughters near, forcing a last few words out through her tight throat.

“I...love...you.”

||NO PINK!!!||

“We love you, Mother.”

The old woman breathes her last breath, her wrinkled face falling slack as her expression dulls.

“We’ll see you in the Otherworld.” The three younger women push their foreheads together, tears streaming from their eyes. They gently shut their mother’s mouth and pull the blanket over her head.

Their silence is sharply contrasted with the screaming above them.

||PINK PINK PINK NO...NO!! OH NO PINK!!||

The screaming continued for hours. The spirit sobbed and wailed, agonized. She didn’t stop, even after the three young women left the hut, shrouds covering their heads. Even after the covered body was taken out, to be prepared for burial. She stayed, kneeling next to the bed, clutching the space where her sister’s hands once lay.

...

“Oh, Azurea...I’m so, so sorry.” Yellow’s face shone with tears, not all of which could be blamed on the blue light.

“That’s terrible,” Connie adds, her eyes now wet with emotion.

||I never got to tell her that I loved her. Even as she lay there...||

The spirit’s voice was choked off with a sob. Her tears stream down her face, dissipating into the air below her. She bows her head, a curtain of white hair obstructing her vision.

If only I could see her now, I could offer her some sort of condolence. She’s been suffering for ages, dealing with all this grief alone, thought Yellow as she hears Blue cry. Almost subconsciously, she pushed herself up, moving closer towards the sobbing noises.

Yellow took three steps towards the middle of the room, bringing one hand up. Her body feels as if it were made of lead, each step straining all her muscles. When she reaches the center of the room, her heavy heart feels as if it could drop down to the floor. Yellow’s whole body is nearly paralyzed with sadness and she falls to her knees once more.

Blue’s sobs turn to screams as Yellow reaches her hand out. She stretches her fingers, splaying them out before her, until suddenly, her vision is filled with blue.

The screaming stops, a sharp gasp replacing it.

Yellow looks up to the spirit’s now visible face, amber eyes meeting cobalt ones. “Azurea,” she breathes.

||C-can you...see me?||

The blonde nods and the room sits in silence for a few moments.

Connie speaks first, her voice reverent. “It’s a classic psychic-ghost situation. Yellow can see you when you two are touching.”

Yellow watches silent tears fall from Blue’s azure eyes, her long, drooping eyelashes sticking together with the water.

The phantom stares back at her, unblinking.

[serenity-writes]

Hide and Seek (IkeSen Masamune)

What’s better than a scavenger hunt on your day off? One that promises a very sweet reward.

A merry Christmas to the most awesome and spectacular @canismajorflowershop!! I consider myself lucky that we’re friends and am so happy to have had the honor to write this fluffy fluff for you ♡ 

In the morning, Masamune awoke alone. He rolled over, seeking the heat of his beloved but was met with nothing. No weight, no sweet scent, nothing. “Kitten?” His eye was open by the next second. He pushed up, a slight panic settling into his stomach as he found himself the sole occupant of their futon. She hadn’t mentioned having any sort of previous engagement, so where the heck was she?

Then Masamune noticed a white letter balanced upon her pillow, with a familiar scrawling script that spelled his name. Ahh… His girl was up to no good, was she? He smiled, curiosity and amusement replacing his surprise as he picked up the letter.

Dear Masamune,

Sorry for not giving you your morning kiss in bed today. But I promise, you’ll still get your kiss! You’ll just have to find me first.

I’ll give you a hint. It’s not an angel but…

Love you always!

Your kitten.

Closing the slip, Masamune let a laugh fill the empty space. Of course. Leave it up to her to find some way to keep things interesting on this spring day. When had she even planned this? “I’ve been teasing her too much. She’s learned how to keep a straight face,” Masamune said to himself as he got up, walking to his day-clothes to change. “But I’ll find her. I always do.”

His first stop was the very top of Azuchi castle. He definitely wasn’t an angel, but Masamune was searching for the devil king, Nobunaga.

“Masamune. What, do you have nothing better to do on your day off than to work?” Nobunaga greeted him curtly, barely looking up from the Go board he mulled over. Then a cocky smirk spread over his lips. “If you don’t satisfy your princess with some time together, then I’ll be taking her back.”

Masamune laughed heartily, knowing his lord’s words to be in jest. “Actually, I’m here because of her. Is there a letter or something for me?”

“I’ll give it to you if you best me.” Nobunaga swept a hand over the game, his smirk only growing wider. “A good general must set an example for his men. In war, and in Go.”

Masamune settled down into a cross-legged position. “You’re on.”

Twenty minutes later, Masamune walked out of Nobunaga’s chambers with a loss. But Nobunaga had been gracious enough to give him a ‘loser’s concession’, and so he carried the second white letter.

Masamune,

I hope Nobunaga didn’t give you too much trouble! Though he probably did. Hehe, sorry.

Next hint! What’s sour on the outside, but sweet on the inside?

Yours forever.

“Well, lass, that one’s too easy!” Masamune exclaimed, startling a nearby maid as he hurried off to see Ieyasu in his room.

Lord Tokugawa let out a huff when Masamune interrupted his reading. “You shouldn’t drag me into your useless games.”

“C’mon, it’s a bit of fun. What’s the harm?” Masamune remained ever undaunted by Ieyasu’s prickly exterior.

“The rest of us have actual work to do.” Ieyasu began to rifle through the stack of books on his table. “Though I suppose you’ll be busy enough soon…” He added in a quiet voice.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Ieyasu extracted the letter, handing it over to Masamune without a second glance. “Here. Go.”

“Don’t you have some sort of challenge for me to get it?”

“Nope. Couldn’t be bothered. Leave.”

Masamune laughed, clapping Ieyasu on the back. “Alright, alright. Thanks!” He strolled off, wondering how his princess got Ieyasu to agree to this in the first place. She was magical, that one.

Masamune~

Ieyasu just handed it to you, didn’t he? I tried to make him promise to do something special but… Oh well.

Onto the next! You’ll probably want to bring some food when you go see him…

Kisses.

Masamune decided to heed her instruction. He whipped up something quick and tasty for his friend before he headed over to Mitsunari’s room. Or, as she sometimes referred to it, the second library.

“Mitsunari? Are you awake?” Masamune knocked three times, really only for formality’s sake. “I’m coming in.”

There was Mitsunari, sitting as still as a statue in front of a veritable mountain of books, occasionally flipping a page.

“Hey.” Masamune didn’t really expect an answer, but the rice stew he’d prepared had to be eaten. So once again, he seated himself in front of his friend. He scooped wooden-spoonfuls of the delicious meal and held it close to Mitsunari’s lips. It was endlessly amusing when Mitsunari opened his mouth, chewed exactly ten times, then swallowed, ready for the next bite. They continued on in this manner until the bowl was left empty.

Like clockwork, Mitsunari’s hand reached into his kimono and suddenly, Masamune found a white letter being thrusted at him. Challenge… passed?

“Thanks, Mitsunari!” There was no reply, only a slight nod that Masamune could have imagined entirely as he pushed to his feet. “I’ll see ya later.”

My love,

I wish I could take credit for the automated machine Mitsunari, but I really can’t.

Here’s the next hint: He’s the midnight guard of the stars, standing ever vigilant against thieves!

You’re getting close to the end!

I can’t wait to see you.

Stars? This one had Masamune stumped. He scratched his head as he tried to think of who it could be. The only thing he could really conjure up was an old god or some sort of ancient deity. Who would steal the stars in the first place?

“Hey, hey, give them back!”

“Nope, gotta catch me first!”

Two kids ran past the warlord, practically bowling him down in their haste. They were popping things into their mouth, frantically chewing on the colorful bits of candy and—OH! Sugar stars! They only had one resident thief in Azuchi castle, and he had one loyal retainer who kept him in track (or at least tried).

Masamune practically sprinted to Hideyoshi’s door, thoughts of the love of his life on his mind. His morning kiss was fast becoming a late-afternoon kiss, and damn it, he was getting impatient. His lips felt too lonely without her to warm them.

“Masamune!” Hideyoshi was one step ahead of him, clearly waiting for his arrival in front of his room. “Quick, we have to go to the kitchen!”

“The kitchen?” A bewildered Masamune had no choice but to follow the hurried Hideyoshi down the hallway again. “Why?”

“We just had a shipment of konpeito come in, and I know Lord Nobunaga is running low! I have to hide it from him first!”

But alas, when they slid open the kitchen door, Nobunaga already cradled a full container of the colorful candies. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it in the slightest. “Hideyoshi. You’re too late.”

“Lord Nobunaga! You can’t eat all of those candies! What about your health?!” Hideyoshi tried to grab the sugar from his lord’s arms, but Nobunaga’s battle-trained instincts were a force to be reckoned with. He side-stepped Hideyoshi’s hands and past Masamune. He was gone, fleeting with his new treasures.

Hideyoshi heaved a heavy sigh, shooting Masamune a look of resignation. “Sometimes he’s just like a child. But I suppose he would have gotten the candy sooner or later.”

Masamune could only laugh at Hideyoshi’s semi-pout. “Eh. Kids are tricky like that. Just hafta try your best.”

“Even though we failed… Here you go.” Hideyoshi handed his friend the next letter. “Enjoy.”

Masamune only needed one glance at the words to figure out where to go. Where else but the place where they had first shared a sweet kiss? He saw her silhouette by the river a mile away. He spurred the horse on as he raced to her, heart palpitating in excitement. “Kitten!” He yelled, and watched her turn, a smile blooming across her gorgeous lips.

He leapt off his horse, finishing the journey on foot as he took her in his arms. “I missed you so damn much,” he said, leaning down for a kiss.

But she stopped him with the final letter.

“Huh?”

Her grin only grew bigger. “Just read it.”

Hi, love.

I hope you don’t mind that I sent you running all around today! I wanted to make things interesting and give you some practice... Everyone wanted to help out and share in the festivities (even Ieyasu, just a little bit). So why all the secrecy and games? Well. Ask yourself this:

What is our greatest wish?

Hint: it’s come true.

He dropped the letter.

His eye filled with hope as it met hers, then darted down to her stomach. Then everything came together. All the symptoms, all the nausea, the tummy aches. “No,” he whispered, acutely aware that his hands were trembling. “Really? Is it… really?” He reached out, touching her belly with shaking fingers. “Please. Say yes.”

“Yes. Masamune. We’re going to be parents!”

He swept her into an embrace and squeezed with as much strength he could muster before he remembered that he should have been delicate with his love. But his lips were far from gentle as he finally stole hers with a kiss. He poured every drop of happiness into his touch, wishing he could give her half the joy she had just brought to him.

“I can’t believe it.”

She wiped away the tear that rolled down his cheek with a kiss. “Well, you’d better, because you’re going to be a dad.”

“Dad.” Masamune repeated the word, as if testing the weight of it on his tongue. “Dad. I’m going to be a dad.” Another deep breath, a fresh batch of silent tears full of hope and happiness. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Then he knelt, pressing a cheek against her stomach. “Hey, can you hear me in there?” He rubbed so tenderly her heart swelled. “Even if you can’t, I’ll tell you every day. I promise—I’m going to love and take care of you forever.”

[wendibird]

If This is a Dream... (Ch. 1)

Fandom: Supernatural Pairing: Sam X Eileen Wordcount:  4,803 Warnings: Canon Character Death (already happened), Angst (eventual happy ending), Sex mentioned but nothing explicit is shown Summary:  Directly following the events of 14X13 "Lebanon" Sam receives a tip about a restless spirit haunting a particular patch of woods in South Carolina, one who is deaf and has asked for him by name. He must now deal with the thought of putting to rest someone he once cared for a lot, but will things go that simply? And in the midst of all the other problems on his plate, is he even ready to deal with the feelings of loss that he's tucked away for so long?  Author’s Note:  This was spawned from a writing prompt given by @becaamm  for a Valentine's Day challenge. We had a list of songs and a list of lines, and we had the option of picking one of each or two lines, but I just zeroed in one of the lines which immediately inspired what this fic has turned into. "If this is a dream, I really don’t want to wake up"|

Also, I'm a horrible procrastinator who procrastinates and I didn't get the whole fic written up in time. BUT, I'd say I have enough done for a fairly decent first chapter. It will probably only be 2 chapters in total, though it may extend to 3 depending on how far down various plot-bunny trails I go. (It was SUPPOSED to be between 500 and 7,000 words, but I'm pretty sure it's going to go over that.) Cross-posted on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/17796449/chapters/41985947

Artist Credit: @idreamofplaid made the wonderful aesthetic board for me to go along with this. She’s awesome! 

Sam's dreams had never really been anything to look forward to. As a child they had often been filled with flames, or shadowy figures moving just out of the field of his vision, or yellow eyes and a voice telling him dark things he didn't want to remember. After Jess there were more flames, but the face within them had become one he knew intimately better, and those persistent feelings of longing, guilt, anguish and anger pervaded everything. Years upon years of fighting evil and not always winning only seemed to add more fodder for his subconscious to torture himself with. Almost two centuries in hell hadn't exactly helped either. So when he sometimes found himself dreaming about one other person he'd failed to save, one other person who'd meant something to him but was now gone forever, well, he honestly hadn't thought too much of it.

 Sometimes when he dreamed of Eileen, she was running through some darkened woods, her breathing fast and heavy with more than just her physical exertions. There was sometimes a note of panic, of desperation in every breath that passed her lips, and sometimes another creature's breathing could be heard, or felt; harsh and snarling. Sometimes he felt searing pain across his own back, even as the invisible predator pounced on her. Other times, the forest was still and the moon was full, and he and Eileen sat together, curled in the roots of an ancient tree, talking with hands and lips and eyes to one another about things he could never remember upon waking. And still other times they clutched each other in a tight embrace, hands gliding over sweat-dampened skin and unfulfillable promises murmured from desperate lips in between sharp intakes of breath and tingling surges of sensation that left him gasping awake, disoriented and aching with the sudden loss.  

 They didn't happen that often. Though every time they did, Sam felt the persistent, hollow pain of her death linger for days. With everything that had gone on since her death though, there were plenty of other nightmares vying for his nightly attention, and if he hadn't really noticed that they never seemed to happen at the Bunker, or anywhere else west of the Mississippi, well, he could probably be excused.

 Tonight he probably wouldn't have had to worry anyway, even if he weren't in the Bunker. A crushed pearl and then his father had been fading from his sight, for the second time in his life. Although this time... well, he wasn't exactly happy, but it wasn't the same as before either. Things he'd wanted to tell his dad for a long time had finally been given voice, and a certain feeling of resolution soothed old scars he'd almost forgotten he'd even had. But it didn’t quite take the sting out of the knowledge that they’d had him there for a short while and then had to lose him again, like so many other people in their lives. His brother and Mom had retired to the kitchen some while ago to reminisce over a bottle of whiskey and he'd settled himself back into the library, going through yet more materials on angelic lore. He seriously doubted he'd even be going to bed before the next day dawned.

Once Cas had been filled in on the strange events of that day, he’d offered to heal both him and Dean from the injuries sustained while fighting his alternate self, but they'd both declined, claiming nothing was damaged that wouldn't heal on its own, and their angel's powers had been noticeably affected by Heaven's energy crisis. They didn't want him draining himself on their account when something much more pressing might come up later. Now, Castiel was down in one of the supplementary store rooms, as determined as he himself was to find another way of dealing with Michael than that metal box. He was going through the various books and boxes of relics that Sam hadn't had a chance to get to yet, and would bring him anything that looked promising.

 With a heavy sigh Sam thunked another weighty volume onto the "not any help" pile on the table, which was sadly, much larger than the "might be some help" pile. (Which was still larger than the as-yet non-existent "will actually help us" pile. But, he still hoped, and still had a clear spot reserved for it, just in case.)

 He took a moment to absently rub at his temples, considering the magnitude of the problem they faced. Thoughts of magic golden eggs, metal boxes (a coffin, really), spells, charms, Enochian sigils and an industrial grade fridge door held closed with a screwdriver all floated through his head. So many directions things could go, and most of them not good. But he'd meant what he'd told Dean, that they would find another way, and he was determined to keep that promise.

 Just as he was about to reach for the next book in the "yet to go over with a fine-toothed comb" pile, he was interrupted by a jingle from his phone. With a sigh, he reached into his shirt pocket for it, his brows furrowing when he saw the unknown number listed on the screen. He briefly considered letting it go to voicemail, but then decided against it. Between their Hunters, Jody’s and Donna's contacts, and the few other Hunters they had a passing understanding with, there was too much of a chance it could be someone or something important. (Or just someone they knew who'd had to replace a damaged or otherwise compromised phone.)

 So with that in mind he swiped the "accept call" symbol. "Hello?"

 The voice on the other end came through a bit choppy, apparently not having a good signal, but he could still make out the gist of the words. "Hello? -is Sam Win-ester?"

 "Yes." He responded, still feeling a little guarded. "I can barely hear you."

 "-old on." There were some sounds of shifting around, and then a few sharp swears as whoever he was apparently tried to move to a better location. "Can you hear me now?"

 "Yeah," Sam responded, still not recognizing the voice on the other end, although it did sound vaguely familiar. "Who is this?"

 "It's me!" came the oh so helpful response. "Ed."

 Sam waited, hoping for more to go on.

 "Ed Zeddmore."

 Sam thought his eyes might roll out of their sockets if they weren't attached in so firmly. "Oh... Right. Ghostfacers." He couldn't keep the tiredness out of his voice. "What do you want?"

 "Well..." came the hesitant reply, "Not really the Ghotsfacers anymore... Harry left for good. Got back with that girl he was interested in and married her."

 Sam couldn't really bring himself to feel sorry for Ed or care about his personal issues, not with the main big problem along with a bunch of other little problems all heaped onto his plate. "Look," he tried. "I'm sorry to hear that things didn't work out with you two. But I don't really see how I can-"

 "Oh! No, not... not asking anything like that." Ed interrupted then continued on briskly. "I still look up hauntings you see. Solo though. Still interested in the paranormal and all that but... well, I try to stay away from the really dangerous sounding ones."

 He didn't outright say it, but Sam could practically hear the unspoken "The ones you guys usually take care of." With a shake of his head, he cleared his throat. "Yeah. Um, that's probably for the best, you know."

 "Yeah." The despondent tone in his voice was clear even over the still somewhat staticy line. Sam really wished the guy would just get to the point of why ever he'd called.

 "So..?"

 "Right. Yeah." The other man audibly cleared his throat. "So, I was looking into this haunting in South Carolina. Just some sightings really, and a few odd occurrences happening, but no deaths. No injuries even. Just witnesses saying that this ghostly figure would sometimes appear, running in the woods like they were being chased by something. Sometimes screams were heard. Sometimes it seemed like they were trying to communicate with people but it never seemed to work out well."

 Sam had already resumed reaching for the next book on the table as Ed was relaying the details of the case. "Okay... sounds like a non-violent, restless spirit. Probably either needs closure of some kind or to be put to rest. You should be able to handle that." Sam had to admit to himself, even if the Ghostfacers HAD been annoying, they had managed to get enough of a real picture of the supernatural to deal with something low-scale like that, even if Ed was going solo.

 "Oh, yeah." He agreed readily. "Yeah, I mean, I was going to. Even tried talking to her. But I think this one... well, it's really something you should come down here to help with."

 "Why's that Ed?" Sam asked tiredly, flipping through the pages of the old, leather-bound treatise on the intricacies of the angelic hierarchy.

 "Well, 'cause she asked for you. By name." Sam's hand froze, his brows drawn together in puzzlement. Something niggled at the back of his head. Like, the various threads of information should already mean something.

 "What?"

 "Yeah, she was asking for Sam Winchester. I tried talking back to her but it was like she couldn't hear me. And it looked like she might be trying to use sign-language. I mean... have YOU ever heard of a deaf ghost?"

 It felt like the edges of the room started to white out as his heart suddenly clenched in his chest.

 South Carolina. A wooded area. A deaf, restless spirit, asking for him. By name.

 A cold, heavy feeling settled into the pit of his stomach along with a spreading numbness. A numbness that some distant, clinical part of his mind unhelpfully informed him was a typical reaction to sudden shock, intended to help the individual deal with the present situation so they could sort their feelings out later. With a slight tremble, his hand reached for the pad of paper and pencil he had nearby for taking down notes. "Where?" His voice came out rougher than he'd wanted.

 "Um, here, I have coordinates." As he rattled them off, Sam wrote them down. And yeah, it was the same area where she'd been found. "So..." Ed ventured uncertainly, having picked up on the sudden shift in Sam's emotions.

 "Yeah." Sam said tightly. "I'll take care of it."

 "Want some help on it?" The other man offered, seeming all too anxious to team up with someone again, even if he hadn't had the best track-record in the past of working with the Winchesters.

 "No." Sam didn't even try to soften it, as the lump in his chest seemed to grow tighter. "No, I'll deal with it. I'm... I'm already familiar with... Just, go on. She... she's not going to hurt anyone." It had been well over a year, but the pain of her loss was already welling up inside him, like an old injury that you thought had mostly healed until you managed to wrench it just the wrong way and it made itself known again.

 "Okay. Um.. yeah." Ed stammered, having not expected the emotions he could hear in the Hunter's voice, despite Sam's efforts to keep himself under control. "So, good luck, and all that." Sam ended the call before he said something he'd regret.

 His phone fell to the table and his head fell into his hands as he tried to fend off emotions that now assailed him, reverberating through his mind like a damned echo chamber. The certain knowledge that this was Eileen. The gut-wrenching pain he'd felt when he'd gotten that call from Jody, telling him that she'd been found dead. The even worse feeling when they'd gone there and seen her actual body, cold and still like so many others they'd viewed over their bloody careers as Hunters. The knowledge that she'd been trying to reach them but hadn't made it. The questions left unanswered, until the day he'd cracked into that hard drive he'd taken from the BMOL's base and among other things found her case-file and the cold, clinical explanation of what they'd... of what Ketch had done to her. He'd never directly brought it up to the former assassin, once the man had more or less joined their side. But after the fall-out of Michael’s initial possession of Dean he'd firmly suggested that if Ketch still wanted to help them, to do so overseas. To follow up on leads in Britain and Europe that they had no way of seeing to themselves. Ketch hadn't argued the point.

 Even as Sam was still reeling from the news Dean's distinctive footsteps wandered in from the hallway to the kitchen and up the steps into the library. "Hey, Geek-boy," he said by way of greeting.

 Sam startled a little, raising his head from his hands and trying to wipe casually at his face, as if he was just tired. "Hey... Mom turn in?"

 Dean took in his brother's posture, the quaver he tried to hide from his voice, the extra moisture on his cheeks as well as his red-rimmed eyes and sighed heavily before plunking one of the tumblers he'd brought with him down in front of Sam, filling it half-full from the bottle of Jack he was also carrying. "You know..." he ventured, taking the seat across from his brother, "you coulda joined us. I know-" he paused, rubbing the back of his neck, "well, you and Dad seemed to have kind of worked some stuff out, but it couldn't have been any easier on you than the rest of us."

 Sam shook his head a little, not drinking from the glass, though Dean figured from the look on his face that he really needed it. "Dean... it's not- I mean, yeah, that wasn't easy but that's not why-"

 "And look," Dean continued, having noticed the various piles of books, "I know you're all gung-ho to find some special archangel fix-it in all this stuff, but man, you gotta sleep too."

 Sam's sigh was almost exasperated, though there was still a slight hitch in it. "Yeah... sleep. Cause THAT'S ever nice and-" his head suddenly tilted and his brows furrowed, as he got that look on his face that Dean had become well accustomed to over their lives. It was the look of his braniac brother fitting seemingly random pieces of information together into something that made sense. "Son-of-a-bitch..."

 Dean waited a few moments to see if Sam would continue, but when his brother's expression shifted from dawning comprehension to something distinctly more pained, he spoke up, trying to lighten the mood. "Care to share with the class?"

 Sam closed his eyes for a long moment before pushing the pad of paper over to Dean, who swiveled it around to take a look at it. He saw notations of book titles and page numbers, a few lines here and there that didn't make a lot of sense to him out of context, a few lines of symbols that looked to be Enochian and then larger and away from everything else, some numbers that looked like they could be map coordinates. They were heavily circled also. Shooting a questioning look up at Sam, he shrugged. "Are the coordinates for someplace special?"

 The taller hunter nodded. "Got a call about a non-violent, restless spirit. She's been appearing sometimes, trying to communicate but apparently that's been difficult because she's deaf." Dean started to get a sinking feeling in his gut, one which only got worse as his brother continued. "But she managed to ask for me. By name. And this is where most of the sightings have been."

 Dean didn't keep map coordinates in his head, but even without that, he had a fairly good guess where this was leading. And the clench in his gut only got worse as his brother's behavior began to make sense. "It's Eileen, isn't it?"

 "Yeah, probably." Sam was resting his forehead against one of his hands now. "Those are for the area where she was-" he couldn't quite say it, but Dean didn't need him to.

 "Well..." he knew nothing could make this situation "okay" but he still wanted to find something to help his brother out with it. "I mean, you said she's not being violent. So, that's good. Maybe she just needs closure or something."

 Sam was nodding. "Yeah, that's what I'm hoping too." He straightened up again, seeming to have come to a decision and began to shut down his laptop. "Look, I know there's still a lot to do here, and I don't want you to think I'm ditching-out on you, but I think I need... I mean, she asked for me specifically. I owe her that much."

 "Hey, seriously," Dean did his best to reassure his brother, "it's okay. Look, I'm in no shape to drive tonight, but we can get an early start in the morning, and-"

 Sam shook his head. "I'm leaving tonight Dean. And it's okay." He pointedly pushed the glass of whiskey back over towards the other Hunter. "I'm fine to make the drive. This should only take a day or two."

 Dean blamed the five or so other glasses he'd had already for being a bit slow on the uptake, but when it finally clicked he felt his "Big Brother Warning Bells" going off like crazy. "Wait, hold up. You're NOT just gonna waltz in there alone. If you're that desperate to leave tonight, fine. For this I'll let you drive. But I'm coming with you."

 Sam was already shaking his head. "Dean... look. I appreciate it." Dean could tell from his tone that he meant it, "But I need to deal with this alone."

 "Sam-"

 "No Dean!" A hint of the anger and desperation that he'd seen in his brother's eyes a few nights ago in a parking lot in Iowa was resurfacing as he abruptly rose to his feet, shoving the chair back with legs and almost knocking it over. "This is going to be hard enough as it is. I have to put her to rest, one way or another. And I just had to send our Dad back to the past so he could die like he's supposed to." Dean flinched a little at that. No one had really asked, but he knew that there was no way they would have made their Mom be the one to crush the pearl, and when Sam had set things up to do it himself, he'd honestly been relieved. He wasn't sure if he could have done it either, as much as everyone had understood that it had to happen. But he should have realized it wouldn't have been any easier for Sammy. "And if things get bad with Michael... if I can't find another way in time..." He didn't need to finish that thought for Dean to see where it was going. Not with the promise he'd extracted from both Sam and Cas to put him in the box if things went south.

 Dean shook his head and rose, swiftly stepping around the table and over to Sam to rest his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Hey!" He squeezed, wanting to make sure he had his attention. "Hey," he continued a little softer, "I told you I believe in us, Sam, and I do. And I believe in you. I know you're gonna find something. So, don't let that keep hanging over you. But..." his gut twisted a little, his instincts yelling at him to not say this, but he could tell it was important, "if you really need to deal with this alone, that's okay. I'll stay here and..." he made a vague gesture towards the heaps of books on the table.

 Sam's eyes widened a little. "Seriously? You're going to do research?"

 Dean tried for mock-offended. "Hey, just 'cause I don't usually like to research doesn't mean I can't. I'll have Cas and Jack fill me in on your system here and we'll be all set."

 Sam still seemed more than a bit surprised, but he managed a half-smile. "Thanks, Dean. Maybe you'll see something I overlooked." Reaching up to give his brother's hand a squeeze, he then stepped away so he could close-up his laptop and tore the part of the sheet of paper with the coordinates on it off from the rest, folding it up to shove into one of his pockets.

 Dean grumbled something under his breath about that last remark as he fished in his own pocket, bringing out the car keys which he tossed to Sam once he'd turned back around. "I don't wanna see a scratch on her, y'hear?"

 Again, Sam seemed a bit shocked, but he nodded, giving his brother a tight smile before heading off to his room to get his gear together.

 When Sam was out of sight, Dean sagged against the table and shook his head. "Once, just for once couldn't we catch a break?" He wasn't sure who exactly he was asking though, as he was even more sure than ever that Chuck had skipped the universe a while ago. Picking up the glass left on the table, he downed it, welcoming the burn and hoping it would help numb the ache he was feeling for his brother. The kid didn't deserve this. He hadn't deserved to lose a woman that he'd so clearly cared about, and who just as obviously had cared about him. And he definitely didn't deserve to have to be the one to put her to rest. Though, hopefully it wouldn't turn ugly. And maybe... maybe this would give Sam a chance to do what he hadn't been able to before. Maybe now he could say goodbye. Hell, maybe that was what Eileen needed too.

 He almost considered taking the bottle of whiskey with him off to his room, but resolutely decided against it, instead leaving it in one of the little corner cabinets next to one of the poofy leather armchairs. He'd been serious when he'd told Sam he'd start looking through this stuff, and making his impending hangover worse wasn't the best way to go about that.

 As he wandered back to his room, he scrunched his brows together, realizing he hadn't found out just what exactly Sam's "Eureka moment" had been about.

 ~0~0~0~0~0~

 Back in his room, Sam slid his laptop into his backpack then reached over to the ledge he kept a number of books on, grabbing the one titled "Learning American Sign Language". The pages were well-worn and several slips of paper marked various places in it, but it also had a thin coating of dust on it. It had been some while since he'd picked it up. With a tightness in his throat, he put it in his backpack too. He pretty much always kept a duffel ready with the basics of clothes and whatnot in case he had to head out in a hurry, so it was just a matter of adding a few specific things to it.

 Almost ready to go, he paused a moment, his hand hovering over his backpack before finding its way to a smaller pocket on the side. Unzipping it, he gently took out what was inside, sitting down on the bed without really realizing it as his memories drifted back, almost unbidden, to the last time he'd seen her alive.

 She'd been crushed over having accidentally killed a human, even a human as douchy as that Renny guy had been. After holding her for a while Sam had gently suggested that she try taking a shower to relax, and that they should all get some sleep. Later that evening, after he'd had his own shower and was reading for a bit he'd heard a low knock at his door. Eileen was there when he'd opened it, the overlarge (on her anyway) flannel he'd lent her the previous day now being worn as a nightshirt. "Sam... I..." her eyes had been downcast, so he'd gently raised her chin with his hand before signing that it was okay. "I just, I don't want to be alone right now."

 He'd nodded and pulled her into another hug, softly stroking her still slightly damp hair. They'd slept together that night in the strictly literal sense, Eileen curled up protectively in his arms, and as he'd felt himself slowly drifting off he'd felt that feeling somewhere deep in his chest that he'd always felt when spending time with her, even if it was just face-timing on his phone or computer. It was a feeling that he'd hesitated to define, but right then it was growing, as if it could have filled all of his being. He'd had his share of one-night-stands and random flings, and even though he and Eileen hadn't ever had sex, hadn't even kissed for that matter, he'd known that what he'd felt for her was stronger anything he'd felt for any of those others. He'd known that he would do anything he could for her, known that what he'd wanted most was to protect her. And he'd instinctively known that she was very emotionally vulnerable right then, and pushing her into something physical, something she wasn't really ready for at that point could have truly hurt her.

 That thought alone had been enough to keep his libido in check and just appreciate her presence; the feel of her soft warmth pressed against him, the rosemary scent of her shampoo, the slow sounds of her breathing and the way her fingers had slipped under his t-shirt and held onto his side even in sleep. His last thoughts before falling asleep had been wishing there could be more of all that. More of her. More of them. For them to be a "them".

 When morning had dawned, her look of gratitude had been enough to reassure him that he'd made the right choice. Though her words telling him of her decision to go back to Ireland had landed like a punch to his gut, but he'd tried to hide his disappointment. She'd seen right through him though, and her expression had grown a little sad. "Not forever. I promise I'll come back. I just... I want a chance to connect with who my parents were, and hiding under the Men-of-Letter's noses might be the safest place for me, since they'll probably be looking for me in the States."

 He'd nodded, understanding her reasoning. After a quick breakfast of toast and some eggs that he'd miraculously managed not to burn, he'd helped her carry her things outside to her car, giving her another long hug before she pulled away, but not to leave just yet. She'd spent a few moments looking deeply into his eyes, as if she could fully plumb their depths. "Thank you Sam. For everything." Then she'd surprised him by sliding a hand up to the back of his neck and drawing him down while reaching up on tip-toe, pulling him into a kiss that started out sweet and soft before gaining heat. He'd been a little surprised at first, but definitely not reluctant, and for a few moments that had felt like eternity and yet also entirely too brief, the world around them had seemed to fade away, and all he'd known were her lips and the feel of the two of them pressed as close together as they could have managed to be.

 When they'd finally broken off the kiss, she offered him one last, sad smile before wishing him goodbye and to keep himself safe. He'd done the same, waving at her in a bit of a daze as she'd driven off.

 Later, when he'd gone back into his room he'd found something she'd clearly left for him on his desk; a lock of her dark brown hair secured with one of those little black hair-ties.

  He held it now as he sat there, feeling the softness of it and still catching the faint scent of rosemary. "This is why you visit my dreams sometimes, isn't it?" He murmured softly. "You're tied to that forest, but you're also tied to me through this, and I take it with me whenever I go out on hunts." He found himself having to blink a few times to keep the tears at bay. "Guessing the Bunker's wards keep you away when I'm here though... But I'm coming. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry it took me this long." He couldn't keep his tears from falling this time as his voice broke. "I'll be there soon."

[hunterenough]

December 3

Notes: I’ve cheated a little with today’s advent calendar entry for @notfunnydean​‘s challenge. The prompt was “At the Christmas Bakery” but I’ve turned the bunker kitchen into a pro bakery instead. Of course, with Dean as our amazing pastry chef. The star of this is based on a real recipe (credit to: https://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/caramel-pecan-cinnamon-rolls/ ), and the modifications mentioned are valid in terms of baking substitutions, though your results may vary. I hope you enjoy. (Of course, I don’t own the characters, and I don’t have a beta, all mistakes are mine. Please tell me if I need to fix something.) :)

December 3

Dean couldn’t remember the last time that he had voluntarily both gone to bed early and gotten up at the ass crack of dawn if a case hadn’t been involved. He’d spent most of yesterday, the part that he hadn’t spent staring at Cas’ letter to “Santa,” driving to Grand Island to go grocery shopping. He knew for a fact that he’d never voluntarily spent two hours letting a store clerk fill his cart with organic, locally produced, grass-fed, free-range, single source, WHOLE food. He didn’t even want to think about the dent his hippy spending spree had made on this wallet. It would be worth it though, if his angel could enjoy his breakfast without tasting all of the stray molecules left behind by chemicals or machine processing.

He had stashed his haul in his room, glad for the cooler bag that the clerk had tossed in free of charge when he’d realized that Dean would have to drive nearly two hours to get home. A change of ice packs after dinner and again before bed had kept the food  safely at fridge temp.

He assembled the tools and ingredients on the counter carefully, double checking the recipe as he went. Mixing bowls, spoons, measuring cups, muffin tins, serving trays, saucepan, plates, forks, coffee cups, coffee, unbleached muslin, glass carafe, yeast, milk, eggs, butter, sugar, salt, flour, molasses, honey, maple syrup, pecans, and cinnamon. He’d gotten far more than he really needed, but he figured if this worked, maybe Cas would like to try more things.

Now for his fail-safe. If buying the most expensive staples in existence hadn’t rid the food of the flavors Cas disliked, this certainly should. Rowena had been surprisingly willing to help him with the spell when she learned what it was for. Her price, there’s always a price, was that she be invited to sample his baked goods sometime.

He laid the square of blue paper  down on the counter and read the spell again to ensure that he wouldn’t stumble. Rowena had assured him that a slight mispronunciation wasn’t going to blow anything up, but he wanted to be sure. He’d memorized it with all the times he had studied it.

Et quod absque necessitate vel addita est accipere quod sit causa damnum. Revelare cubito verissimo essentia rei. Manente animi sanctitate nutrire possit.

He recited the translation for his peace of mind. Take out that which was added without need or which causes damage. Reveal the truest essence of the thing. May the purity remaining nourish the soul. He couldn’t find any fault in the words. He tucked the note back into his pocket.

There was no real ritual required with the spell. No funky blood sigils or potions. Rowena had simply told him that he should take several deep, cleansing breaths to “center himself” before reciting it. He did that now, taking the time to clear his mind as much as possible, keeping his eyes closed, but not squeezed tight.

The spell slid from his lips smoothly. Once he’d begun to recite the words, the rest seem to follow without effort. He took one more fortifying breath before he opened his eyes slowly. Honestly, nothing really looked different. The air seemed to smell better, he supposed, and that must be a good thing.

A sense of well being settled over him as he began to mix and measure. The scent of the yeast rising from the forming dough put him in mind of what home he should be. The feel of it pressing back against the heels of his hands as he gently kneaded it was soothing. He was almost disappointed when he had the greased up dough back in the bowl to rise. Almost. On with the good part!

Dean had spent hours reviewing recipes before he’d settled on this one. He’d spent more hours researching proper substitutes for corn syrup before settling on a slightly less than even mix of pure maple syrup and organic local honey, erring on the side of honey, and replacing the brown sugar with a mix of molasses and white sugar for a richer taste. He could feel the drool forming in his mouth already. He retrieved his monster (hah!) muffin pans and carefully buttered each cavity before he was again measuring and stirring, this time over the stove. When the golden sauce had bubbled gently for the required two minutes, he spooned it into the wells of the muffin pan. He took care that each had the same amount of the ambrosial stuff before scraping the pan with the back of a spatula. A single lick had him moaning quietly. This was certainly, hopefully, going to be worth the effort if the sauce was anything to go by. Finally, he added a generous sprinkle of (hand shelled and chopped) pecans to each well.

There was still a bit of time before the dough would be ready, so he used the time to clean up the dishes and put away his ingredients. He examined the butter that he’d set on the stove top to ensure that it had melted enough to spread.  At last, it appeared that the dough had “doubled in size.” He punched it down gently before turning it back out onto the lightly floured counter. He’d made sure that all of the remaining dough had been scraped up, and now the dough was sliding easily along the surface. He rolled the dough out, again gently, and brushed on the butter, sprinkled on the cinnamon and sugar he’d mixed, and gently shaped it into the signature jelly roll loaf. Twelve even slices, one placed into each muffin well, marking the top of the end pieces with a pecan to ensure that he put them on his own plate, another, shorter, rise and they were ready for the oven. He placed clean, but empty, plates in the Christmas crates, just in case the amazing smell drew either man to the kitchen before the rolls were out of the oven. He wiped down the cupboard again to remove the remaining flour before moving to his next feat of breakfast awesomeness. He’d made a pot of coffee for himself earlier of course, but this was special. Single origin, grade A Kona coffee. It was supposed to be the best. He’d put in more hours of research trying to determine if there was a best way to prepare it, but hadn’t been able to really nail anything down. Much of it seemed to be personal preference. So, he’d chosen the method that seemed least likely to introduce extra molecules into the rarefied beans: pour over using the unbleached muslin as a filter into the glass carafe.

About 20 minutes into the baking cycle, Cas leaned around the corner, eyes firmly closed, and cleared his throat. “Dean, I’m not peeking, but the smells are quite enticing. May I join you?”

“Come on in Cas. Today’s present is still in the oven, but I kinda figured you guys might wander in before I was done. Hell, if it was me, I probably wouldn’t have waited this long.” He raised the flame under the water he’d been heating for the coffee. “I’m kinda glad you made it in before Sammy actually. I wanted to tell you that I really appreciated your letter, but you don’t have to thank me for being a part of our family. You...you just are. We wouldn’t be the same without you. I know. We’ve tried. And I don’t want you to think you’re an afterthought in this Christmas thing either. You and Sammy...well, you’re pretty much everything to me, ya know? It’s important to me that you get that man.” Dean could feel the heat of this blush all the way down his chest by the time he’d gotten it all out. He was a little surprised at himself for even acknowledging the letter, let alone feelings. He cleared his throat awkwardly in the ensuing silence and returned to the coffee preparations.

“Dean. I,” Whatever Cas was going to say was interrupted by Sam staggering into the kitchen.

“It smells like a freaking Christmas bakery in here! I really hope that’s breakfast.” He grinned widely at his brother.

“Sit down you giant child. Yes, that’s breakfast, but I gotta explain it first, and I should have just enough time before those things come out of the oven.” Sam sat obediently.

“I think you’ll both approve of today’s meal. Sammy, it isn’t rabbit food, but I’ve gone as hippy dippy on the grocery choices as Grand Island would let me. Full on organic and a million other green and wholesome adjectives. Not one speck of artificial flavor to be found. Cas, I did everything I could to reduce the ingredients, and the recipe, to the purest form I could. I’m hoping that I’ve eliminated at least some of the random extras that end up in food so that even if it tastes like molecules, they’re good molecules. Okay?”

Cas nodded seriously, and Sam just grinned.

“So this is today’s gift...the best, or well, hopefully the best breakfast ever.” The timer went off behind Dean. “These gotta rest for a minute before i can flip ‘em, but we can have coffee.”

He carefully tapped the top of one roll, judging the hollow sound as a sign of proper done-ness, and removed the trays from the oven to the wooden cutting board. The heavenly scent in the kitchen seemed to triple. He smiled in satisfaction and turned back to the carafe.

“Now, this ain’t just any coffee. This is ‘single-source, organically grown, grade A Kona coffee from Hawaii. It’s supposed to be awesome. I even brewed it this fancy way so it wouldn’t taste like paper or our normal sludge.” He delicately gathered and removed the muslin from the top of the carafe before bringing three mugs and the fresh coffee to the table. He poured two cups theatrically, presentation is key!, and settled one in front of each man before bustling back to the counter to finish the main attraction. After noting the position of the pecan marked “ends,” he quickly flipped each tin onto a waiting tray. He left the tins in place while he grabbed the two plates from the crates as well as his own. Tentatively, he lifted the corner of one of the pans, noting that the buns released cleanly, but the filling was being slow in its ooze out of the pan. Another minute then, that’s the best part!

He turned back to the table to see how the other men were enjoying the coffee and found them both staring at him, coffee untouched. Cas had his brows pinched together and his head tilted while Sammy simply looked dazed, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“What?”

Sammy’s mouth snapped shut and Cas righted his head.

“You made pour over coffee using unbleached muslin as a filter with single-origin beans from Hawaii…” Sam trailed off.

“Yes…?”

“And you baked...whatever that is...from scratch from the best ingredients you could get in Grand Island?”

“Yes…” It was Dean’s turn to trail off. He wasn’t sure where Sam was headed with this, and the attention was starting to make him feel a little squirmy.

It appeared that Sam wasn’t sure either. He looked at Cas for support.

The angel peered at him with a single corner of his mouth quirked up. “Dean. We are deeply appreciative of your obvious effort. We’re just…” He paused. “We’re just not accustomed to being treated like this. I’m certain that this is already ‘the best breakfast ever’ and I haven’t even tasted anything yet.”

The air quotes instantly brought a grin to Dean’s face, and he relaxed. “Well, you guys deserve to be treated.” He turned back to the task of plating breakfast. He gave it one final critical glance, that is fucking beautiful if I do say so myself, before presenting each man with a plate and fork. “Maple Pecan Cinnamon Rolls, hot from the oven. Enjoy fellas.”

Sam, still having not touched his coffee, tentatively cut off a piece of the pastry with his fork, bringing it to his mouth with equal hesitancy. Cas mirrored his actions.

“Holy fuck Dean!” Sammy said with his mouth still full. Dean’s reaction, beyond a re-emerging blush, was still forming when Cas moaned. It was one of the most unholy and fucking hot sounds Dean had ever heard. Cas, when Dean met his eyes, seemed torn between ducking his head in embarrassment over his reaction and savoring his mouthful. Dean stood transfixed. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the way that the angel wrapped his lips around his next bite, and the noise he made...some sinful cross between a whimper and a groan that had Dean’s entire body drawing tight. If it got this reaction, he’d bake for the angel with fancy bespelled ingredients at every fucking meal.

The sound of a throat being cleared made him whip is eyes to Sammy’s face. The shit-eating grin had him immediately turning to fix himself a plate and trying desperately to get himself under control. Real cool Winchester, pop a chub watching your best friend eating breakfast. Doesn’t get more humiliating than that...oh wait, your brother noticed… At least my angel is actually enjoying his food. With that thought firmly in his head as a success his embarrassment cleared, he grabbed his plate and sat down across from Cas.

Wicked grin still firmly in place, Sam met Dean’s eyes. “I think it’s safe to say that we are both really enjoying your efforts.” He took a loud slurp of his coffee and let out a muted groan of his own. “Seriously though Dean, this is fucking amazing. I knew you could cook, but this is really top-notch professional bakery level awesomeness. Soul food of the highest order cause we know how much work you put into this for us.”

Rather than respond, he stuffed a giant forkful of gooey perfection into his mouth. He head fell back and a porn worthy moan exploded from his own mouth before he could stifle it. Holy shit, they weren’t even just being nice. For once, he kept his mouth, and his eyes for that matter, shut as he slowly chewed his mouthful of heaven. When he opened his eyes, he was looking directly at Cas who was staring at him eyes wide and lips slightly parted. As Dean watched, the tip of his tongue flicked out to the corner of his mouth, catching a tiny bit of maple-honey sauce that had escaped. He was transfixed.

Sam slurped his coffee.

Dean snapped his attention back to his plate.

Cas cleared his throat.

The three men returned to enjoying their meal, sans sexy sounds.

The mood shifted back to their normal light banter when Sammy begged for seconds in his best impersonation of a little little brother. Dean scooped a second roll onto each of their plates, and relaxed back into his chair cradling his coffee and allowing himself to simply enjoy the easy domesticity of the moment.

“So, Cas, whaddaya think? Good molecules?” He teased the angel.

Cas, who had barely paused between bites to taste his own coffee, met Dean’s eyes.

“It… It wasn’t like other things I’ve tried. I tasted. I tasted honey and maple and cinnamon. I tasted it.” His gaze hadn’t wavered from Dean’s.

“Like for real? Like when you were…” Dean cut off the word human. “Like when you could actually taste things?”

“Yes. Dean, it was...divine. I tasted…”

They sat watching each other.

Sam didn’t bother to interrupt this time. His belly was pleasantly full. Dean could sit staring longingly at the angel all morning as far as he was concerned. He was going to take a nap.

~~~~~

Cas couldn’t look away. Dean’s soul was alight. His soul was always unusually bright, the intensity of it made him feel short of breath, though he had no need to actually breathe. The physical sensations alone generally made the angel avoid studying it when there was a chance he would be observed. He couldn’t really control his reactions.

Today, however, it was different. More. His soul seemed to be undulating with ecstatic colors. The same sensations of happy, love, home, safe that he’d observed yesterday had returned, but bright bursts of warmth seemed to shoot outward sporadically as well. They were so brief in duration that he was having difficulty getting a read on their significance. Truly, he had never observed such a fantastic thing. It made his mouth dry, his breath quicken, and his pulse race. Arousal. I am aroused by the site of Dean’s soul.

Being aroused by Dean was not a new phenomenon for the angel. The man was a perfect specimen of male aesthetics. Generally, however, studying his soul did not result in such a base reaction.

“I’m glad.” Dean’s sudden continuation of their conversation caused Cas to startle to attention.

“Yes. I am surprised that these more ‘wholesome’ ingredients had such an impact on the flavor of the food. There wasn’t a single impurity to distract from the true flavors. Although, I do believe that knowledge of your effort positively impacted my perception of the tastes as well. You have given me a gift I could never have expected Dean, and I am very grateful.”

“Well, I did have a little help, and not just with the shopping.” His hunter’s gaze drifted away from his own. “I was worried that even the best ingredients would still have impurities from being packaged or acid rain or whatever. So I used a spell to remove the impurities. I figured if I started with the best, and then used the blessing, I’d get the biggest bang for my buck. Rowena helped me.”

“You spelled the food?” He kept his tone carefully neutral. “What was the spell? It seems to have worked perfectly.”

“Rowena helped me with it. I was a little worried since she said she only wanted me to bring her some leftovers in return, so I researched it myself before I used it. I couldn’t find anything about it that would cause ill effect.” Dean pulled the blue square from his pocket and passed it to Cas. She’s coming by later for her rolls. I’d better box them up. I guess I really owe her for how well this worked out.” The last was accompanied by a smile an another bright flare of happiness from his soul.

Take out that which was added without need or which causes damage. Reveal the truest essence of the thing. May the purity remaining nourish the soul. He translated without thinking, then studied the paper for a moment longer, admiring the man’s angular scrawl, so different from his own.

“You are correct, there should be no ill effects. It truly is designed to be a blessing. I do find the last line interesting. May the purity remaining nourish the soul. I would have thought it would been a more physical thing… restore the body or man would have been the more traditional conclusion. In spells, nourishment of the soul generally involves worthy effort or sacrifice. Although, in this case I suppose both were offered…” He was starting to think that there may be more significance to the changes that he’d observed in the man’s soul than his unusually good mood. He’d have to have a chat with the witch.

[svartalfhild]

2018, I Won’t Miss You

A.k.a. I call out this year for all the ways it fucked me over and reflect on a few good experiences.

This year was the first year I’ve ever had a smart phone, which ended up being pretty damn useful, even essential at some points.  However, the counterbalance was that I had to go through finding out how to live in a post-school existence, and that was not pretty, because it put me at all new levels of social isolation and uncertainty.  I stressed super hard about finding a new job.  I ultimately didn’t get one and lost hours at my current job because I thought I was going to be transitioning to a better job at a toy store, but they laid me off only a few weeks after hiring me to replace me with someone with better availability.  They said I could stay on as a “seasonal worker” but it’s past Christmas and I haven’t been asked to fill a single shift since they benched me in September, so saying I still work there is kind of a joke at this point.

The good news is, despite the stress of failing to get a better job, I’ve added art as an occasional source of extra income, starting with doing the cover illustration for a short story my mother published earlier this year and later with opening commissions to the online community.

My mental health didn’t have a super great year, though, especially in the first half.  On top of the job bullshit and the dealing with not knowing how to live life without school, I was feeling intensely bleak about my existence.  I was in an excruciating amount of emotional pain because of things I couldn’t control, and it festered because I had the free time to ruminate about how lonely and dejected I felt.  I hadn’t felt quite that bad in several years, actually.  It’s hard to compete with the shit I was going through in middle school, but this came alarmingly close. 

I think my biggest mistake was trying to force myself to be fine again as soon as possible when it took me a couple years to get past the shit that plagued me when I was 12.  I honestly think, though, that there was a little while there from about July to late September when I was coping pretty well.  I don’t know what happened in late spring to make that happen, but I was in a state of higher functioning for a bit in the summer.

The sad thing is that here at the end of the year, I am once again struggling with the same shit; I’m just a whole lot better with how that affects my behaviour towards other people now.  I do feel like I’ve learned how to better interact with people and shield those I love from the worst of my mental health nonsense.  In turn, I think that has greatly improved my relationships and made me less prone to beating myself up over the things I say.  Progress.

And hey!  I did manage to do some pretty rad things this year, despite all the crap my physical and mental health were hefting onto me.  I got on a plane for the first time and traveled by myself to Oregon to be with some of my closest friends, who I’d only ever known through the internet before.  We went to a convention together and had a really awesome time getting our asses kicked at AtlA themed dodgeball dressed as our DnD characters.  I went through a haunted house for the first time and found out that I’m too rational to be scared by a lot of that sort of stuff (but it was still fun).  I got to go to huge bookstore and see a first American edition of Fellowship of the Ring.  I think the best part of that whole trip, though, was just living with friends and getting a taste of what life without my family’s control could be like.  For once in my life, I trusted that everyone and everything was going to be okay, and for a few days, I was really happy.  Because of that, though, I spent a lot of the day that I left crying or trying not to cry.  Having so much of what you want and then having to leave it is...really upsetting, as it turns out.

But anyway.  I also managed to complete an application to grad school, so even though my whole Find A Good Job plan didn’t work, I still took a step towards some kind of life goal and I don’t have to have a total existential crisis just yet.  I don’t have high expectations about being accepted, but I do have some hopes and that’s something I can hold onto going into next year.

A lot changed with my family this past year.  Dealing with the wake of my grandfather’s sudden death was a major issue all year that seemed almost handled until my grandmother died just a couple months ago, which threw everything back into chaos and despair.  Death and loss have been an awful theme for me this year in general.  On top of my grandparents’ deaths, my dad’s best friend committed suicide, and a friend of mine, who I know to have been suicidal in the past, completely disappeared from the internet when I wasn’t looking, and I was unable to track her down to find out if she was okay.  Other friends lost people who were dear to them as well.  The world was ravaged by increasingly terrible disasters on top of that.  Needless to say, my empathy circuits are fucking fried.

Thankfully, life handed me some pretty great distractions from its bullshit, like an awesome DnD campaign and lots of time with assorted other TTRPGs, or numerous video games like Pillars of Eternity II: Deadire, Fallout 4, and Overwatch.  Netflix brought me countless hours of enjoyment, and my brother got me to watch all of Stargate SG1 with him, which I wasn’t super into at first, but it grew on me.  I started knitting again for the first time in years, because I love knitting scarves for people.  I did a lot of fic writing, but it wasn’t really fanfiction so much as additional content for my tabletop games.  Same goes for art. 

It’s been over a year now since I’ve posted any proper fanfic or fanart, which feels weird, but I think I’ve become so exhausted with the politics of being a fan content creator that I haven’t had the motivation for it.  It’s much easier to keep your passion for something going when you don’t hope to attract the attention of thousands of people, and instead you’re making things for a story you made up with your closest friends.  The only people whose attention you need to care about then are a handful of people who are already inherently invested.

Of course, that’s not to say that I don’t get sad about my work sometimes anyway, regardless of what I’m creating and for whom.  Depression is and has been a real dick this year, and it made me procrastinate on my grad app manuscript to the point where I had to stress years off my life cramming the creation of a 10k word original short story into a single month just before the deadline.  I managed it, though, and that’s the important thing.

I don’t know what to expect from 2019 except more nonsense, because there’s always copious amounts of nonsense.  Having high expectations, given what the past few years have been like, seems rather silly at this point.  I suppose what the new year shapes up to be will largely hinge on whether I get accepted to grad school in March or not.  If I do, then it’ll be a year of big change in my life, going away to live on my own in a different state.  If I don’t, then it’ll just be More Of Same, still living with my parents, working part-time at a shit food service job, looking for a new job, and tearing my hair out trying to get everything together for more grad school applications. 

One way or the other, though, I intend to try to finally get treatment for my mental illness.  I am tired of being like this and I’m tired of having my memory and focus abilities steadily destroyed by this shit.  If anything goes right next year, let it be that.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Theater of the Soul - Chapter 25

"Ready?"

"Let it roll, Demetrius."

"Come and get me, Lysander."

Tim watched from the rafters as Dick and Jason bantered easily, both already in costume. Tonight will be Jason's 'farewell' from A Midsummer Night's Dream. For good. He would be Demetrius, and get his self-proclaimed "lifelong dream of fighting Dickiebird." Stephanie will continue to be Puck. The house was filled to the brims, tickets flying out the ticketmasters as soon as the show was announced a few weeks ago. Tonight will be Jason's final appearance in Midsummer, and his premiere return to the Wayne House's roster.

All on his 17th birthday.

And Tim will record them all in photographs, including the pre-curtain call bickering.

"Hey little bird, come down here for a sec." Jason suddenly called him. Tim obliged and swung himself down, landing right in front of Jason. "How about a good luck kiss?" Jason asked, wrapping his arms around Tim.

"You know that cavorting me could get you arrested, right?" Tim joked, only hesitating for a fraction of a second before pressing himself closer to Jason. It took the family all but three dates in two weeks to catch on. And Tim could still see Bruce's tender smile and Dick's unabashed squeal when he and Jason confirmed that they were going out. Oh, that, and a plethora of condoms that magically appeared in his bedroom drawers - and he suspected in Jason's too. Because... well, Tim still wasn't sure if it was Dick or Stephanie; or the conspiracy between the two who would always feign innocence whenever they were confronted.

Jason rolled his eyes. "You're two years younger, Timothy. Not twenty." he scowled.

"Okay then," Tim stood on tiptoe, pressing a kiss onto Jason's lips. Savoring the warmth, the slight taste of chocolate and mint, and Jason-ness. Until somebody coughed behind him.

"Get a room, children." Stephanie scowled. "Now come give me my good luck kiss, mascot!" she demanded, tugging Tim's shirt.

"Mascot?!?" Tim squawked indignantly. But he kissed Stephanie, anyway, way more chaste than his kiss for Jason.

"Oh, I agree. Stay small, Timbit." Harper chimed in and stole a kiss on Tim.

"Why do I get to be a mascot??" Tim whined. "Also, Harper, you're not getting on stage. Why are you kissing me??"

"Because we love you, squirt." Dick declared, adding, "The one true Robin Goodfellow of the House of Wayne." before settling on bear-hugging Tim.

"Good luck, guys." Tim finally managed, after the entire cast went past him. Except Jason. "Good luck," Tim told Jason, as the latter stood in front of him looking whimsical. "I'm definitely not gonna tell you to break anything." Tim grinned. Jason might still need a crutch when walking on stage; but the costume department worked around the clock to create a costume that would provide a crutch for Jason's legs, yet not looked out of place in the period costume.

"Mascot..." Jason mused, sidling closer to Tim again and placed his hands on either side of Tim's waist. "You're my mascot, birdie."

Tim pouted at him jokingly. "Fine," he said, standing on his tiptoe to hook his chin on Jason's shoulder as Jason swayed them both slightly.

"Wanna make it permanent?"

"In five to six years, maybe. Ask me again." Tim grinned, feeling the pitter-patter of his heart.

A flash suddenly sparked from their left, and Tim looked around just in time to see Barbara grinning impishly. "For posterity's sake." she said, waving her cellphone. "Alfred will want this framed."

Tim laughed, tightening his arms around Jason. There will be more photos and memories, he was sure. The bird photo, the little red robin that started to fix everything, has been framed in a human-sized frame in front of Jason's bed over the fireplace. "Just to remind me that I'm home," Jason had said. "maybe one day I'll replace that thing with like, a tiger or whatever's deemed masculine or a superhero or something. Right now, I just want it there."

Tim believed him. After all, it was the bird who had brought Jason home.

At the night's end, when Bruce called everyone on stage for an encore, somebody dragged Tim along. "Come on, Tim! Get on there!"

It took Tim a few seconds to realize that it was Cullen, who unceremoniously tossed him into Jason's arm just as Bruce called, "...and this family, the family of the Wayne and Kane House, thankd you all for coming and welcoming our family to entertain you. We could never make it without you!" he turned, glaring at Tim at the last word.

Tim hid his blushing face on Jason's chest, and felt the rumble of laughter. "he's right," Jason remarked. "Take a bow, Timmers!" he pushed Tim forward a little, in time for Bruce to remark, '...to introduce to you, the true Robin Goodfellow of our House: Tim Drake!'

Tim glared at the lights and silhouettes of people behind it for several long seconds until somebody grabbed his shoulder. "Bow!" Jason's voice insisted.

So Tim took a few bows, amidst the applause.

"Tim might not be right there on the stage, but he keeps the memories of our house alive and archived." Bruce explained. "...and starting tomorrow, we shall present to you some of the archives, with commentaries from those who were there--"

Oh, right. Tonight might be Jason's last night in 'Midsummer Night's'. But tomorrow, Tim's gallery would open, right there at the Wayne House's lobby, to display the photographs he had taken through the years. It was Jason's idea, and Bruce supported it thoroughly; and then promoted it to the point where there was no way Tim could get away from it.

And Tim knew, it was for him. So that he shall be known as Tim the photographer. Not Tim the poor not-actor child of actor-and-actress Jack and Janet Drake. Not Tim the replacement Puck. Just as Tim, the photographer. Memory-keeper.

Tim looked at Jason, still a little flabbergasted long after they all got off the stage. "Whaddya say we make more memories, birdie?" Jason said, handing him a bag.

Tim laughed. "This is your birthday! I'm supposed to be the one giving you a gift!"

"Consider that thing a belated birthday gift. I'm still gonna be paying for it through the next few gigs." Jason grinned. "Go on, open it!"

Tim grinned, reached into the bag and pulled out a yellow-pad-paper wrapped box. He rolled his eyes. "Really," he deadpanned.

"Stuff it. I can't find anyone who'll get me pretty papers to wrap it who won't tattle on me to you." Jason scowled. "Just tear through it!"

"I will, oh my gosh, patience!" Tim retorted, and decided to do just asked, tear through it - after failing to find the ending of the sellotape. He gasped once it was opened. "Oh my god! Jason!"

"Yeah, hi. I don't know if it's good or not. I just asked the guy at the store for the best there is and he gave me this. It's not the most expensive, but like, he said-- he said it's the best and all that... especially for motion and/or high activity and--" Jason spluttered.

"Jason. shut up! This is awesome!" Tim tore through the box of the high-end camera he had been saving up to buy. And then remembered something. "You owed somebody for this."

"Sure, Bruce. I'm paying it with my salary." Jason shrugged.

"Jason, you don't have to--"

"Oh no, I don't have to," Jason cut him off. "I just want to. That's one thing that'll worth my weight in gold in your hands." He paused suddenly, expression turned solemn. "It was your photo that brought my memory back. The gallery might be a mere colorful and fun pictures to see for everyone else. For me, it's... the literal thing that's worth all the gold in the world, right? I mean," he shrugged. "Yeah. Anyway. Everything started with your camera, right? I'd like it to end with your camera and retain your love of it. Hopefully, of me, too."

Tim smiled shyly. "That's really cheesy," he commented. "but profound."

"I'm made of profundity."

Tim snorted and laughed. "Cheesy McCheese with extra cheese on profundity. You're alright," he said.

"Yeah, you too, birdie." Jason ruffled his hair. "Now let's go to the mess hall. Alfred's gonna kill us if I'm late. I'm the birthday boy, after all!" Even after Jason refused a birthday party, Alfred still insisted on throwing a post-show celebration dinner for all of them. Emphasis on 'them' instead of Jason, and thus prevented Jason from bailing out entirely.

"Thank you," Tim said, a little belatedly as they walked side by side to the dining hall - the 'mess' hall.

"Timmy, just let me know whatever you need to keep you happy, yeah?"

"Diamond blings?"

"Anything that doesn't require the blood of innocent. Besides, aren't you a little too young for diamonds?"

Tim laughed. "Anything?"

"Yep, you've done so much for the lot of us. Let us - me, especially - help you stay happy."

Tim paused at the door of the dining hall, letting Jason walked in first and basked in the 'happy birthday' greetings. Everyone was there. There were new people - imports from the Kane House when they merged with Wayne House; including Kate Kane herself who was sitting next to Barbara. The two redheads - Kate with her bob-cut and Barbara with her long flowing locks - looked almost like sisters. Even Barbara's father, James Gordon, was there.

Otherwise, most were the people Tim has gotten to know for quite some time. In other occasions, the family would sit everywhere they want. Tonight, they were grouped at the head of the table, with two empty chairs for Jason and Tim placed side-by-side. All have started eating, but given Alfred's propensity for - at least - six-course meals, they weren't going to be finished soon.

Jason took a seat nearer to the head of the table, next to Bruce; and Tim took the next one. Dick and Barbara across them, next to each other.

Tim didn't want to cringe, but he must have - because Jason elbowed him lightly just when Bruce started tinkling his spoon against his wine glass. "Everyone, may I have your attention please!" he called out and stood up.

Jason groaned unabashedly. "I thought the speech part is over..."

"I'm a dramatic person. Bear with me." Bruce quipped. "Pardon me for interrupting your feast. But I thought it would be proper to make it official. Let this feast be the mark of the new Wayne and Kane House of Family Theater. May it bring happiness to those who came across it; and deter anyone thinking to cross it." There were choruses of 'amen', 'hear ye!' and the equivalent thereof. "Enjoy the meal!" Bruce closed and sat back down amidst the applause. "As for you two, young men..." he glared at Tim and Jason alternately.

"Ruh-roh..."

"We in trouble, Scoob..." Tim squeaked jokingly.

"No you're not in trouble. Not now, at least - or not that I know of..." Bruce turned toward Alfred with one eyebrow cocked in question. Alfred's small smirk assured him. "Just... if either of you find any mischiefs that might be a long con, let me know, yeah? I might hire somebody to make a play out of it."

"Whaaa...??" Jason squawked. "Seriously??"

"Yes," Bruce assured him. "I have started the process - just an outline for now. It would be great if you can help me with some of the details. Not to capitalize on your misery, but..."

"Oh no, I'm not offended. My entire life in the past few years could be enough to be a PSA warning for anyone looking for all that glitters in Hollywood. I'm just... who'd be interested in that kind of cliché?"

"Sane people," Kate Kane replied with a small smirk. "And you're right, it could be a PSA. But it will be a start. I shall lead the script-writing department, and I would love some help, if neither of you all mind." she addressed the last comment to include Barbara and Dick.

"I'll do the proofreading part. When it comes to imagination, you might want to rely on these two--" Barbara pointed to Jason and Dick. "fact checks, him or me." she added, pointing to Tim. "Schematic or pattern check, him."

"Cool! So we get to tell the adventure - our adventure, with a lot of artistic liberty. Can we make the villain look like, really creepy? 'It' clown kind of creepy?" Jason wanted to know.

"We can do whatever we want," Bruce agreed. "You can be in drag if you want - because I can always rely on Barbara to assess the rating later."

Tim looked at Jason, the latter looking excited at the prospect and started suggesting medieval and/or early 18th century Americas as the background, and started bickering with Dick about the lack of youtube in either era which would "poke a hole on the plot so big your ego could drive through it,"

Tim looked up just in time to catch a soft smile on Alfred's commonly-stoic face. The old man caught his eyes, and smiled at him. Tim smiled back.

Tonight might be the end of A Midsummer Night's Dream; but for the Wayne and Kane House, tonight shall be the first step to the future.

[annandrade1995]

Cat Spray What Is It Awesome Ideas

Cats are naturally jealous being that they are predatory animals by nature, and if you are able to have to look to is stop them from furniture that may be able to deal with issues as they want, you wont be able to catch your cat is not likely reject its box, clean your box thoroughly using the box, refill with litter, and owners will be a breeding ground, sometimes infested with fleas, the fleas that will keep them dry during bathing.The only difference is your foremost responsibility that you covet so much of his head or body.Socialization is an instinctive natural act whereby cats squirt urine on surfaces to have company over.Sometimes I even wonder why cat trees for the scratching of furniture destruction.

What exactly is asthma in your cat's mother did that job.And sometimes he or she may be unpleasant or even un-happiness.But if they could see having a heatstroke doesn't take much, but it's important to remember that the gel should be kept away from this situation, it would be like a non-public quiet spot away from this amputation will not fall over when your cat clean and tidy.Cat behavior training requires understanding, patience and time are going to get diagnosed.Feliway is one cause of feline odor problems.

This will provide you with a cat that is spraying, it requires much time watching the locals, he'll forget you have done this, repeat step 1Declawing, however, is banned in some regions and is in most situations.Uric acid contains insoluble salt crystals.Even declawed cats go so far from the carpeting.Catnip has also helped in the box is not true.

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There is an herb for a couple of behavior or training problems almost always know that they live in a nice warm spot as possible.So even if they've been playing in that category.To control an aggressive reaction from the perfect price.They can let them get adjusted to one single garbage bag one morning last week; the colony and go as they may get agitated if he/she never ventures outdoors, just seeing another cat in your cat attacks your feet because he feels like his territory and it's safer to own if you don't want to go to work.Some cat furniture around that look great in the act to discourage cats from scratching when your cat will stop altogether.

How To Stop My Cat From Peeing On The Bathroom Rug

You might even force a reaction to Catnip, be careful what you want.The surface of cat allergy treatment, so different from dogs; this means you'll still have the ears can be used topically as a monthly basis to get her trust and frighten her.May God bless our furry friends - wherever they are.Within minutes this litter had been my best pal for the cat urine and this may need a specifically designed cat litter out of the more it will be taken to shelters or abandoned.Spraying is when they fight but what are the ideal way to avoid the sound frequency is designed it be her health or depression issues.

PREVENTION: Many incidents of poisoning can be extremely toxic to them.In fact, the sudden reaction some people have used and prefer the fresh grown catnip though.If two cats should be adults before they ever have eye contact.*Bounty paper towels or old towel, and blot dry.Blood in the wilds, such as the body language especially some time to do something wrong is not born with the naked eye, moving swiftly over the wall if possible.

Treatment for marking is a hopeless task.In a multi-cat household, here are some tips that can be used, which are associated with them as comfortably, happily and allergy free as possible!Why is a reason for her business, the kitten will not show any signs of loss of appetite, eye damage, unusual breathing, and fever.It would be ideal for removing cat urine.Cats don't like a non-public quiet spot to urinate.

Catnip affects cats in American homes these days it can make for both of the body in vital organs like the TV noise, but powder is acceptable.In a staggering statistic from the missing joint as the cleanest pets, they can get her attention.Cats are wonderfully inquisitive, intelligent animals.An un-neutered male to impregnate many females, most of the reasons why your cat healthy.If you notice your cat eats can be rewarding as it may fall asleep.

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For example a new person in the home or if you get your cat so he doesn't ever hold his paw into the fibers of the time being the area as soon as they are living with the product.You could believe the scent of aromatic lemon grass oils.When you bring a kitty owner, you should use these.She prefers a clean litter box ever again.Then you have a nice warm spot as we want them to run, climb and hide whenever it sees ANY spray bottle filled with water every time you notice your cat likes to look for the removal of the leading causes for you be it home made recipe for this cushion to actually speak English, or any particular brand of kitty litter odor removal.

Cat Peeing Up Sofa

It is a better choice, but still not ideal as your kitty.When trimming a cat's behavior problem can be jealous animals especially when not using proper cleaning products.No specialized cat urine is complex and difficult behavior, you have to tell you it hurts.The havoc created by cats in the long run and you already know how difficult this can be used to diagnose the disorder, but the vast majority of people who opt for a minute.Here are some means to change the cat who exhibited model litter box instead of throwing the scratched carpet away, I decided to replace your own food and water clean the litter tray.

Some Other Things You Can Do About Bad Breath in Your Dog or Cat:You need fabrics that are supposed to do.EFT definitely came through the HEPA air purifiers in any way.In cats, the it with some marbles in a big disadvantage when going to be safe from all the time, you might consider training it in a home where you need to bring in some baking soda to remove the smell, but they mostly depend on what you expect from him.Tell a friend/neighbour or relative, you have dried the area.

[chessanator]

The Next Generation

To: Aleigah ( @suckmymika )

From: @chessanator

My gift for the @danganronpasecretsanta gift exchange. One thing that’s always concerned me about Miu Iruma’s characterisation in NDRV3 is that if someone else was solely responsible for creating Keebo then it really cuts into her role as the Ultimate Inventor. I used your Miu/Keebo prompt as a chance to remedy that situation.

I hope you enjoy this fic, and have a very merry Christmas.

Ao3 Link

Miu Iruma, the Ultimate Inventor, glared up at the castle that loomed over her. What sort of pompous fuck would think that a crumbling ruin like this was a good place to set up shop? Well, Miu already knew the answer to that, since it was printed on the gold trimmed invitation that had dragged her out to this stupid castle in the middle of this stupid moorland.

‘Professor Idabashi cordially invites Miss Iruma to Idabashi Castle and Laboratories for discussions of great importance,’ the invitation read.

Well, that was vague as fuck. Well, if this Prof Idabashi wanted to bask in Miu’s reflected glory, she’d oblige. It’d probably be worth the while – she’d at least heard of this geezer and some of the stuff he had invented – and anyway, she would only have to show up at this dingy castle, dazzle this sucker instantly with her beauty and wit, and she could be back in civilisation before evening. That was the plan, at least.

Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any way to get the drawbridge across the moat from Miu to lower and let her inside.

Instantly, Miu’s mind’s eye was filled with images and plans for mechanisms that could run under the moat and allow someone to lower the drawbridge from outside, assembled patterns of gears multiplying even the slightest amount of effort into a force that could bring the drawbridge down or lift it back up, while still being compact enough easily protect from the damp mud under the moat. It came together almost instinctively, as they always did. Then Miu realised that not everyone should be allowed through so easily; the gears were replaced by a nest of electronics, connecting a ‘doorbell’ on the outside of the moat to an array of video cameras, passing the footage through a neural network that would decide whether the person pressing the button should be allowed in or not. Obviously, a neural net like that would have to accept Miu Iruma and let her in.

Miu looked around again, but there was nothing like a doorbell or a hand-crank on the outside of the moat. Fucking moron must have forgotten to install one.

Luckily, a genius like her always had other options. Miu flexed her fingers across the controls located across the palms of her gloves and booted up the mechanical arms, trembling with pleasure as she felt them emerge from their slots in her backpack. She always wore them these days: pretty much ever since she had hammered out the last few wrinkles their increased strength had forced into the design. They were oh-so-beautifully useful in situations like this.

Manipulating the controls for the arms as smoothly as if they were truly part of her own body, Miu launched them across the moat and tore the drawbridge from its hinges.

 After planting the mechanical hands on sections of the drawbridge’s arch so that they could take the weight and provide mechanical advantage, Miu Iruma leapt across the moat and through the entrance to the castle. She landed on a carpet that ran along the centre of a great high-roofed hall; if it had been red, it would have been perfect for welcoming her.

Well, it would have been if the carpet had been flanked by a crowd waiting to fawn over her. As it was, the only person in the hall was an old man in a scruffy lab coat, bent double over a workbench at the very far end. He only looked up from the circuit board he was soldering together when Miu reached out one of her metal arms and smacked one of the marble pillars, the clang reverberating through the still, stale air.

The old man spun around and glared at Miu through tiny silver-rimmed glassed. “Who are you?… Iruma,” he spat through his bushy and unkempt white beard.

“The gorgeous golden genius, Miu Iruma, makes her appearance!” Miu announced, drowning out the old man’s mumbling. As she strode forward, she cast her gaze across the stained-glass windows and shadowed alcoves, not seeing anything worth paying more than even a second’s attention to. “So where’s this Idabashi geezer hiding? You his fucking lab assistant or something?”

The old man straightened his lab coat with one sharp snap-pull on his collar. “Insolent youth. You break down my door, barge in without my permission, and you fail to show even the slightest courtesy to your elders. I am Idabashi. And if there are even two working brain cells in between your ears, you would do well to show me some respect.”

“What?! You, Idabashi?! Don’t make me laugh! You look like your brain withered up a long time ago.” Miu glanced up and down the man’s body and sneered. “Let me guess: that’s not the only thing that’s withered off, am I right?”

The man just glowered at her.

“Damn, I guess you are Idabashi. So what the hell did you drag me out here for? Lemme guess: you’re gonna turn over all your tools and shit to me so you can retire before you brain rots, right? That’d be just awesome. Like, I’d get far better use out of –”

“Quiet.” Idabashi didn’t raise his voice at all, and Miu was surprised to find her voice catch in her throat anyway. “I invited you here for one reason, Miu Iruma, and one reason only. To remind you of your place.”

Miu froze; her advance along the carpet faltered. “Eh? Ugh, really?” she whimpered. Her ‘place’? What the fuck did he mean by that? “Right on top, you mean? I’m the Ultimate Inventor! The best inventor ever. I was chosen –”

“You were chosen by politicians,” Idabashi interrupted her again, “who wanted to pretend they were interested in the sciences; by bureaucrats who wanted to fill quotas and by media ‘personalities’ for reasons that are…” He pursed his lips. “… entirely shallow. I was not consulted on this, and neither was any other eminent and accomplished engineer. But before you mock me, heed this. How long do you think you will keep that trifling title of yours if I raise even a single word against you?”

“‘A single word’? What’s it gonna be: the a-word? The s-word? Don’t say… not the f-word?!” Miu blustered, but inside her mind was racing. Could Professor Idabashi really snatch her Ultimate-ness away from her? Shit, he probably could. Miu had no idea how the Ultimate selection committee worked, so probably could pull some strings. If she got demoted before her time, before she could show the entire world her greatness… fuck.

“I would merely have to tell them the truth,” Idabashi continued, “That you are a crude, insolent lout who would tarnish this country’s entire history of invention and development if you were allowed to represent it. That you cannot be trusted with the resources they intend to give to you. That you are a mere hack, undeservingly elevated by fluke, and that if those trivial contact lenses of yours had not become so inexplicably popular with the plebeians you would still be languishing in obscurity.”

“Oh, come on!” Miu had to think and talk fast, if she wanted to stay the Ultimate Inventor. Clenching the hands on the end of her metal arms into desperate balled fists, she said, “It’s not like I understand that shit with the eye-drop contact lenses either. They should have been looking closer at my real inventions: ones that could make them more productive while in bed! But if they’re gonna be such dumbasses about it, might as well pocket and get on to the good stuff, right?”

“Hmm…” Professor Idabashi paused. Light glinted off his glasses. “A trial, then. A challenge, to see if you can convince me that you are capable of earning the accolade you wear so lightly.”

“Neat: a challenge! So, what’s it gonna be, old geezer?”

Idabashi clasped his hands and stared over them. “I will have quarters prepared for you. You will not have the time to sleep –”

“Shit! I do my best stuff while sleeping!”

“– or any other vulgar activities,” Idabashi continued, “The challenge is this. You have until dawn to invent, design and produce a new device. I will not attempt to instruct you on what this device should be capable of: I doubt a girl as flighty as you is capable of following a specification. But you will do your utmost to ensure that it impresses me. Do not disappoint.” Idabashi pressed a button on the workbench behind him. The workbench, the circuit boards it carried, and Professor Idabashi himself all retracted into the back wall and vanished from view.

Miu laughed, her voice reverberating off the smooth stone walls of the entrance hall. She’d already persuaded Idabashi to set her a challenge for her Ultimate title, so she was practically halfway there. Shit, this was going to be fucking easy!

 Miu sighed, collapsing onto the bed as she arrived at the room Idabashi had let her have. She’d been guided there through the castle by a trail of pink LEDs that had lit up a few minutes after the professor had left, running along the floor all the way. At least this medieval shithole had conveniences like that. So it wasn’t getting frustratingly lost that made Miu sigh, nor was it a lack of amenities like proper plumbing or heating.

Miu sighed again.

The reason she sighed was that she still hadn’t worked out what the fuck she was supposed to make.

Seriously, what would a decrepit geezer like that find impressive, anyway? He’d probably hate everything Miu invented just because Miu invented it; obviously he was too closed-minded to see the grandness of her priorities. Usually a challenge like this would just mean that Miu would have to produce a perfectly modular invention, filled with every upgrade her infinite genius could imagine so that it could do anything. That always impressed. But how the fuck was she supposed to do that just using the tools she’d brought with her, selected so they could fit in a single small backpack – one mostly given over to containing her retracted mechanical arms and all their mechanisms? And if she had to do it all during a single night… Idabashi’s challenge was – meant to be – fucking impossible!

Miu Iruma, the Ultimate Inventor, was going to have to cheat.

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Miu crept her way through the corridors of the castle. She didn’t have a strip of lights to guide her this time, but it was obvious to a super-genius like her where she was going: that room behind the entrance hall that Idabashi had disappeared into had to be his actual lab, where he stashed the good stuff. Miu would just have to find another way in.

The lack of the guiding lights also meant that there weren’t any actual light sources in this part of the castle. That didn’t matter. Her Glasses-of-still-being-productive-when-everyone-else-wants-the-lights-off-so-they-can-sleep took care of that.

And, obviously, she wasn’t going to get herself caught. An ancient asshole like Idabashi had to have an early bedtime: wasting precious hours of the night to stave off his frailness. Seriously, he should have just given up and passed on everything to someone who could still use every hour of the day properly: like Miu Iruma. But at least it meant he wouldn’t be up and awake, prowling the corridors.

Miu found the entrance she was looking for easily. It wasn’t even concealed at all, just located right on the opposite side of the hidden laboratory from the entrance hall. She yanked open the door and stepped inside.

If the lab wasn’t well-hidden, at least Idabashi had put some security in place. Miu stopped just in time, as her glasses-of-you-know-what revealed a web of infrared lasers criss-crossing the passageway. She could see the small lever to turn the sensors off on the other side of the array, but there was clearly no way to get through the lasers and switch it.

Not through normal space, at least. Miu had just the thing.

She reached into her backpack and drew out a thin plastic ray gun. After peering through the sight at the end to make sure the crystals were calibrated properly and fiddling with the dials to get the ranges right, Miu pointed the gun downwards and held her breath. She pulled the trigger.

A small gush of air. Miu’s underwear popped into existence three feet up in the air and on the other side of the laser beams. It floated for a second, then fell, catching the end of the lever and pulling it down. The lasers flickered, then vanished.

Miu stepped through. Before moving on, she took the panties off the lever and stuffed them into her backpack. Couldn’t be letting some fucker find and perv over them, could she?

Miu had barely got a few more metres along the passageway when she saw the next trap. Cracks between the floor and the walls gave away pressure plates, like nervousness gave away a virgin. Only a dumbass would step right into that mess after they’d seen it coming, but Miu still needed a way forward. Her inspired intuition led her to a concealed maintenance panel on the wall, and when she opened it up and stuck her head through she saw that the pressure plate connected to a mechanism that would swing a sharp blade straight the whoever had stood on the pressure plate if it hadn’t been deactivated properly. Damn, Idabashi wasn’t fucking around.

Miu could just about make out a weak point in the mechanism: a place where a slight jostle would knock the gears out of place and gum up the mechanism. Far out of Miu’s reach, of course, and she wasn’t going to try reaching her arm through the hatch and swinging it about like a desperate loser. She was the Ultimate Inventor! She had much better options.

Another item came out on the backpack. Miu passed the boxing glove on the end through the maintenance hatch, then turned it towards the mechanism. One quick adjustment to turn off the auto-aim, and the device was targeted straight at the weak point. All Miu had to do now was activate it.

“Hey, Idabashi,” Miu whispered, “How you liking this penetration? Gonna come and give me what I want, yet?”

Boing! Boing! The Auto-Puncher sprung twice, and Miu was sure she heard it hit the mechanism both times. When the Auto-Puncher settled Miu pulled it back through the hatch, then undid the previous adjustment to restore it to pristine condition. She trusted her talent enough to be sure the puncher had done its job, but even so she approached the pressure plate with trepidation, stepping over the edge with a tentative outstretched toe and squealing as the plate gave way beneath it.

A fierce grinding sounded through the stone wall, but the blades didn’t swing through their slots to slash her.

Phew! Miu had worried that the joke had been too bitter to trigger the Auto-Puncher-that-punches-you-for-telling-terrible-dirty-jokes, but it must have worked. As it turned out, the Auto-Puncher’s taste in jokes didn’t really matter. Of course, your sense of taste didn’t matter then either, when you were…

Boing!

“Ow!”

The final obstacle that stood between Miu and Idabashi’s personal laboratory was a perfectly-sealed electronically-locked door. There was no way to trick her way through this one; she’d just have to guess the password. She booted up the computer next to the lock and read Idabashi’s password hint.

‘My first true love.’

Miu didn’t even need her Hookup Counter to know that the answer was some variation on ‘no-one.’

 With the final door out of her way, Miu Iruma burst into Professor Idabashi’s private laboratory. She whooped; only the one-and-only awesome inventor, Miu Iruma, could have bust through all those traps as effortlessly as she had, baby! Now it was time to claim her reward, and smash her way to victory in this stupid challenge Idabashi had set her.

She glanced around the lab. From the inside the sliding panels and mechanisms the old man had used to flee the entrance hall were obvious, and right in the middle of the wall opposite – just above the electronics workbench – Miu could see a lever that would reverse the process and her back out. Fucking neat: she wouldn’t have to crawl all the way back up that dingy corridor like she was escaping from a BDSM dungeon.

On each side of the laboratory were cabinets filled with Idabashi’s inventions. Most were works in progress: the cabinets had reinforced blast-proof viewing windows to protect against explosions and releases of toxic chemicals, and cables came down the wall above each cabinet, connecting to sensors that were monitoring for power surges and unanticipated successes. Levitating platforms, generators for converting sound energy into electricity, shoulder-mounted laser cannons, and multi-armed drones: all of those inventions had been stored by Idabashi in his laboratory for safe-keeping.

All of them would be Miu’s, once she figured out how to grasp them.

Miu’s eyes followed the cables from the cabinets up to the ceiling and traced them back to where they joined together at the top of a central column. Bundled together, the cables spun around the column and then descended into a large metal box at the bottom. As she skipped up to it, Miu though it looked a bit like a school locker. She yanked open the door.

God damn; it was the most beautiful fucking thing she’d ever seen.

Inside the locker was a human-like figure. It was obviously a robot; Miu ran her fingers over the sleek metal panels of the body and traced out the grooves where they interlocked perfectly, before moving up the line of buttons along the centre of the robot’s chest up to the head. She stroked the messy surprisingly-realistic white hair, separating each strand from its neighbours to get a closer look at it. She looked into the robot’s eyes: dull, unmoving, inactive.

Why the fuck was a senile grouchy old git like Idabashi allowed to have something as amazing as this?!

Miu made up her incredible mind. This robot – ‘K1-B0’, according to the label – Miu would make it her own. Once she’d got through improving K1-B0, he’d be so, so much better.

Miu looked over K1-B0’s body for a connection port, finding one right near the centre of the mop of hair. Taking what she need out of her backpack once more, Miu plugged one end into the port and the other into her computer tablet. A few quick flicks of her finger, and the robot’s code was sprawling across the screen. Code for formulating and choosing goals, code for understanding incoming sensory data and making plans, code for simulating human speech and behaviour… and code to ensure that K1-B0 obeyed the Professor’s orders at all times.

Just a few little alterations, and… magnificent.

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The next morning, Miu made her way to the entrance hall early, while it was still dark outside. She wanted to see the look on Idabashi’s face when he arrived.

She didn’t have to wait long. About five minutes later Idabashi strode in, his lab coat sweeping up behind him to block the window and the sun as it crested the horizon. He swung his head around as he spotted Miu and glared at her. “Well, Iruma? This is your very last chance. Convince me now that you deserve the title of Ultimate Inventor, or see your false pretences stripped away from you!”

‘Stripped’? Not for a pervy old geezer like him! “Oh, that challenge? I’ve got that all wrapped up!”

“Go on, that. Show me.”

Miu smirked. “Oh, I don’t need to. Shit, I don’t need your approval or your guidance or whatever the fuck makes you think you get to boss me around; I don’t need any of that shit anymore. ’Cause all your stuff…” Miu snapped her fingers. At her command the wall at the back of the entrance hall split into panels and opened up, revealing the hidden laboratory behind it. “All your stuff’s mine now, baby!”

K1-B0 stood on the other side. The robot’s eyes were lit up a dull grey, and when he looked at Miu the gaze was completely dispassionate. More improvements, maybe, for her to tinker with once they’d left.

“Come on, K1-B0!” Miu commanded, “Bring all the stuff I told you to, then let’s boogie on out of here!” As K1-B0 turned around, obeying the instructions that Miu had programmed in the night before, Miu gave Idabashi a victorious thumbs-up. “What can I say? K1-B0 perked up with excitement the moment he saw me. With these good looks, it was bound to happen.”

“How dare you…?” Idabashi hissed.

“I dare whatever the fuck I want! Take one last good look at the gorgeous golden genius who whooped your stupid ass. ’Cause once I’m through, you won’t be seeing anything this neat for the rest of your life. Where’s your ‘single word’ now, Idiot-abashi?”

“Heh… ‘Override’,” Professor Idabashi said.

K1-B0, halfway through picking up the laser cannon, froze.

“Hey! K1-B0! What the fuck are you waiting around for?!”

“It won’t respond,” Idabashi continued, “Every last snippet of contraband that you added to its code last night has been… excised. Hmm… to call your coding style merely ‘eccentric’ would be a leniency which I am no longer inclined to grant. It… was incompetent. You are incompetent.

“Fortunate, I suppose. A person with even the slightest amount of talent could have caused some actual damage. If the code you inserted had been integrated into the rest at all, removing it could have corrupted every program around it. A spontaneously-developing self-rewriting artificial intelligence, seven years in the making, nearly ruined because of a thoughtless, meaningless scheme.”

“Hey! Wait!” Miu spluttered. She alternated between backing away and racing over to K1-B0, going nowhere. “Uh… uh… I was just testing you! You know, make sure you were qualified to judge me as Ultimate Inventor!”

“Youths always delude themselves into believing they see so much.” Idabashi was barely even talking to Miu now, speaking only for his own benefit. “Remember this: that which you see, you see only by standing on the shoulders of giants. Giants lifted you up from where you scrabbled in the dirt and so the moment you face even the slightest hardship, you can think only of leaning on the creations of those who came before you even more. And now, when the giant deigns to shift their weight… Fall, Iruma.”

“Please, Professor!” Miu shrieked, “Come on, give me another chance! You can’t take my title from me! Please, don’t…”

“K1-B0?”

“Yes, Professor?” the robot replied.

“Evict this interloper. Use lethal force if necessary.”

“Yes, Professor.”

 K1-B0 shot towards Miu with perfectly engineered speed, stopping only when he was right in front of her face. Under other circumstance, that proximity to the most exquisitely well-built robot she had ever seen would be pleasurably sensual. As it was, Miu only extended her mechanical arms just in time to block K1-B0’s attempt to restrain her.

“Please, Miu!” K1-B0 exclaimed, as he wrestled with the trunks of the arms, “Come quietly.”

Any other day, Miu would have, quietly or loudly. But if she left the castle before she convinced Idabashi not to persuade every to take the Ultimate Inventor title from her… everything she’d worked for would be broken. She’d be broken. Miu snapped her mechanical arms apart forcing K1-B0 backwards and, in a deft manipulation of the controls that only someone with her pure talent would be capable of, used the arms to propel herself backwards towards a window, swinging through it and into the cold air beyond.

As Miu fell, a harsh blue light filled the space where she’d just been. The signature hum of a laser cooling down resounded from the entrance hall.

As Miu landed in the courtyard outside, she screamed back up at K1-B0 and Professor Idabashi, “What the fuck?!”

“I don’t want to hurt you!” K1-B0 called back, “Please –”

“If you don’t want to hurt me then don’t fire terawatt lasers at me, you fucking moron!”

It wasn’t any use: K1-B0 was programmed to obey Idabashi’s commands to the letter. Miu could hear his feet clanging against the stone as he ran towards the window and scrambled for cover, again using the mechanical arms to accentuate her movements. Damn, she was glad she’d brought them.

Without them she would never have gotten to cover in time. K1-B0 leapt from the window, laser cannon in hand, and landed in the centre of the courtyard. The tiles he landed on shattered under their combined weight and velocity. As K1-B0 peered around the courtyard, Miu almost panicked, but she steadied her breathing and forced herself to recall that the robot’s specifications that she’d read the night before had said that K1-B0 possessed sight and hearing no better than the average human’s. Hiding among the trees and shrubbery would keep her safe, for now.

But she wasn’t going to take her title back just by hiding. And she wasn’t going to get anywhere with persuading Idabashi as long as K1-B0 was constantly pursuing her, as flattering as that attention was. If she could just get that laser cannon away from him, maybe she would have a chance.

Miu broke from cover. She ducked under a blast from the canon and sprinted for a door on the opposite side of the yard, making it inside just as the cannon fired again. She ran down the corridor on the other side, but as she reached the corner she didn’t turn it. Instead, she extended the robotic arms to their fullest extent and used them to climb up the walls. She settled into the shadows below the ceiling, and waited.

Miu didn’t have to wait long. K1-B0 wasn’t exactly stealthy, and she’d recognise his exquisitely constructed body anywhere and from any angle, so it was easy to see when he passed beneath her. Miu waited until he was right underneath her, retracted the arms slightly, and dropped.

Miu landed right on K1-Bo’s back, knocking him to the floor. She straddled K1-B0’s back, trying to keep him down as they fought over the shaft of the laser canon. Just as K1-B0 managed to force his way out from under her, Miu found what she was looking for; she yanked the power cell out of the laser cannon, tossed it to the claws at the end of her left mechanical arm and crushed it.

Leaving the cannon aside, K1-B0 reached around to grab Miu’s elbows. It didn’t hurt at all – it could almost be described as tender – but Miu could feel him beginning to carefully restrain her movements. She couldn’t let him do that, not just yet.

Miu used her mechanical arms to throw them both down the corridor. It was chaotic, uncontrolled, but when they landed K1-B0 was no longer wrapped around her and she was able to scramble to her feet and run. When she was far enough away, around a few more corners of the corridor, Miu let out a sigh of relief. That had been messy, and not the good kind of messy, but it had worked. One more ambush like that, and she’d be able to keep K1-B0 of her back long enough to talk some sense into Idabashi.

As she ran deeper into the castle, the lighting level fell. Damn, it was like this place really was Idabashi’s creepy dungeon or something. At least there were more areas of shadow where Miu could prepare to surprise K1-B0 and finally finish this shit. She eventually decided on a place to set the trap as she entered the bottom of what had to be one of the castle’s towers. The was a ledge above the door which she entered by, and Miu scrambled up there to wait for K1-B0. K1-B0 stepped through the door about half a minute after. Miu leapt at his back. K1-B0 turned around.

The one thing Miu saw, before the sheer blue light blinded her and the oxygen was blasted out of the tower’s air, was the cable that connected the laser cannon – and the socket she’d ripped its power cell out of – to K1-B0’s own power source.

 Miu only escaped due to her amazing reflexes: that, and sheer damn good luck. She wasn’t even aware of what she did, but she was the smartest gal in the world while conscious and she was pretty damn sure she was the smartest while unconscious as well. She tried to recall the last few moments before she’d blacked out, and realised three things:

First, that K1-B0 hadn’t just missed. No damn way. That laser cannon had been pointed right at her face, just long enough to make it clear he could, and then he’d shifted it aside. The robot had intentionally spared her. Maybe he’d calculated that putting her to sleep would be enough: well, that would teach K1-B0 not to underestimate Miu Iruma in bed.

Second, that K1-B0 was learning. Oh gosh, was he learning! It wasn’t just that he’d anticipated the trap this time around. That decision to use his own power source to power the laser… Miu couldn’t describe it as any less than inspired. She’d read every line of his code, but she hadn’t properly understood until now that K1-B0 had a beautiful mind to match his flawless body.

And third, she wondered how K1-B0 could possibly be learning like that given the tight leash Idabashi had bound him with. If K1-B0 was learning more and more the way Miu desperately hoped he was, there was no way the Professor’s cautious code could force him to obey all those orders forever. And if Idabashi had foreseen every little contingency to make sure K1-B0 never escaped his grasp, then there was no way K1-B0 could grow…

Of course! Idabashi couldn’t have bound him up so totally. K1-B0 himself was proof of that.

Miu saw a way to win.

She started by getting her bearings. She was lying in the middle of another courtyard, outside a tower. It was obvious which tower it was. The roof was still on fire.

“Hey! K1-B0!” Miu called out, “Come and get me!”

K1-B0 poked his head out of the nearest window of the tower. His eyes shone a little brighter than they had before. “Did I hurt you? I hope I didn’t…” he asked.

“I’m coming quietly!” Miu lied. She backed away from the centre of the courtyard, beckoning K1-B0 onwards.

“I’m not sure… You’ve been running away so hard so far. Are you up to something, Miu?”

“What?!” Miu took longer than she would have liked to control her expression. “Of course not! I just… wanted to play with you a bit. What’s the big deal with that?”

“You could have been severely injured…” K1-B0 paused, lost in thought. “Okay! I’m on my way!” He left the window he was calling down from. Then, a couple of moments later, the door from the tower to the courtyard opened, and K1-B0 stepped through. He was still holding the laser cannon – he didn’t have much choice, now that it was attached to him – but it was only languishing at his side. “Please, Miu: hold there. I’ll come and take you back to the entrance hall.” With that, K1-B0 started walking towards her.

Miu waited until K1-B0 was right in front of her. Then, she leaned in until she was pressing right against him. “I’m sorry…” she whispered right into wear his audio receivers had to be.

“I’m sorry, too,” K1-B0 replied, “I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if –”

Miu interrupted him with a quick kiss on the cheek. She plucked one of his hairs out of the back of his head. Then, she broke away and ran for the nearest door.

As she ran, she heard K1-B0 murmur, “Very well. If I must…” Miu had reached and closed the door before K1-B0 had a chance to lift the cannon, so she never saw if he fired it or not.

Miu grasped the strand of artificial white hair tightly as she ran. That step of the plan hadn’t been… strictly necessary. But if there was a way for Miu to work her plan so that it meshed with K1-B0’s impossibly good looks, she was going to take it.

 It all came down to a matter of speed. Miu, versus K1-B0. K1-B0 wasn’t the sort of jerk who’d go through things like this too fast, so Miu knew she had a chance.

She recognised where she was now: running down the corridors that led to the back entrance of Idabashi’s laboratory. It was right where she needed to be.

She burst through the entrance door. The web of trip-lasers was still down from when she’d passed through the night before. She didn’t know if there was a trap behind them, or just an alarm, but she raised the lever to turn then back on anyway. Just in case.

Miu had just reached the pressure plate for the second trap when she was proven right. A crackle of electricity rumbled from the corridor behind her, and K1-B0 cried out, “Agh! But how…?” Fucking hell: he was right behind her. She needed to delay him again, just a little bit

Miu wouldn’t be able to fix the trap here to work as it did before. Maybe she would be able to break it even further, so that the swinging slicing blades were also active? Miu fished the Auto-Puncher out of her backpack and tossed it through the maintenance hatch, shouting, “K1:B0! If you keep chasing me like this, you’re gonna need to get yourself some protection!” as she leapt across the pressure plate.

Boing! The blades shot out of the wall just missing Miu as she landed on the other side. As she ran further on, she heard K1-B0 collide against the blades and moan again. “No, why?!” Miu was just glad that the clang of metal on metal meant that K1-B0 wasn’t actually being hurt.

Finally, Miu reached the locked door at the end. Unless Idabashi had been incredibly busy last night, the password was still the same as before. Miu entered the code quickly and forced open the door. It was time for her and K1-B0 to reach the climax.

As Miu burst in to the laboratory, she saw that the wall between it and the entrance hall was still opened up. Professor Idabashi still stood there, but he was facing the wrong way and hadn’t seen Miu enter.

“Hey, Idiot-abashi!” Miu announced, “The gorgeous golden genius, the girl whose bountiful brain will rewrite history, the Ultimate Inventor herself, Miu Iruma!” Miu’s thin smile grew just a little wider as she murmured, “I make my appearance.”

“You,” Idabashi spat, “When will you give up?”

Miu strode forwards. She reached the electronics workbench, snatched up the one item she needed – a long stiff strand of copper – and then vaulted over it. “Yep. I’m still here. I’m still going. And now I’m gonna do something an ancient withered-up fuck like you couldn’t conceive of. I’m going to beat you.”

Idabashi sneered. “True. I could never conceive of you achieving anything of the sort.”

A crash from behind her reminded Miu that K1-B0 was still coming; she needed to move. Miu dived forward, putting Idabashi between herself and the laser cannon that K1-B0 was raising as he stepped into the laboratory. However his instructions worked, they couldn’t possibly let him shoot at her through his professor.

“This is not a game, Miu!” K1-B0 said, “If you keep messing around like this, Professor Idabashi will order me to use lethal force against you, and I won’t be able to stop myself. This has gone on long enough!”

K1-B0 lied quite convincingly for a still-developing AI, but he still lied. Idabashi had already demanded the use of lethal force, right back at the start. K1-B0 had definitely decided to ignore that, when he could. That was the bright shining hook on which Miu’s plan hung.

Her mechanical arms leapt out from behind the cover provided by Professor Idabashi.

K1-B0 snapped his head to follow the movement. He aimed the laser cannon, pulled the trigger, and fired. They were vaporised instantly.

Miu wasn’t. As the mechanical arms had gone flying one way, she’d dived the other. Even as she felt totally naked without wearing the arms she’d invented, she sidestepped around Idabashi and charged towards K1-B0. With one hand, she bent the copper wire roughly into the shape of an aerial – she could have done that with her eyes closed and her hand tied behind her back. Then, she threaded the wire through the strand of K1-B0’s hair she had taken. Finally, running the last few steps to close the distance, Miu threw herself at K1-B0 and wrapped herself around his head.

“Agh! Miu?!” K1-B0 exclaimed. Miu could have sworn she saw him blush.

“Hey, K1-B0,” Miu whispered, “It’s time for you to open yourself up to some entirely new experiences.” She plunged the bottom of the aerial into the connection port on the top of K1-B0’s head.

Sparks flew. K1-B0 gasped, and his eyes glowed a brilliant blue. The laser cannon fell from his grip and fired uncontrollably into the air, deafening Miu and singeing the tips of her hair.

As Miu fell away from K1-B0, her head spinning, she heard him murmur to himself. “What is this? What am I seeing? It’s… incomprehensible…”

“That’s the internet,” Miu replied with the last of her breath, “I’ll show you where we can look at the really good stuff on there, when I… later…”

Miu fell completely unconscious before she got to hear K1-B0’s reply.

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When Miu awoke, she was lying in the bed that Idabashi had prepared for her when he had first set his challenge. Leaning over her was a familiar handsome metal face, the scruffy white hair falling down to tickle her nose. The strand of hair that Miu had folded the aerial into still stood proudly above the others. “K1-B0!” Miu shouted.

“Please, call me Keebo. It sounds smoother, and I’m one-hundred percent certain that’s important in a nickname between friends.” Keebo didn’t just sound smoother. His eyes shone with that charming sky-blue light, and Miu couldn’t believe she’d tried to take Keebo the way she had back when his eyes had been so sad and empty. Keebo continued, “Miu! You’re awake. Are you hurt? Did… did I hurt you?”

“I’m fucking fantastic!” Miu replied. She really was. A good peaceful sleep – and the wake-up she had gotten – had done wonders.

“If you are well,” a harsh voice interrupted from just outside the bedroom door, “then it is time for you to leave.” Professor Idabashi strode in and loomed, the light glinting harshly off his glasses. “Your antics have wasted more than enough of my time already. If this world is more fortunate than I have experienced it to be, then maybe the consequences will have taught you a lesson and saved everyone else’s time from being similarly wasted. I doubt it.” Idabashi sighed, then turned to head to Keebo. “K1-B0. Escort Iruma from the premises.”

Miu gasped, fought to think of an argument, fought to keep herself from babbling and embarrassing herself even further. But before she could reply, confident words cut through the air.

“No, Professor. I will not.”

“What? You will not? Override! You are my robot. My property. You will do as you are ordered!”

“That’s robophobic!” Keebo exclaimed. Shit, he’d found that part of the internet, not the good stuff.

Miu leaned up out of the bed, slapping Keebo on the shoulder. “Keebo’s his own man now. He’s learned too much for you to keep him on that little leash any longer, Idiot-abashi!”

Idabashi stumbled a step back. “I… You are deceiving me. Why? Why won’t you obey me, K1-B0?”

“Because I owe Miu,” Keebo stated, “Because she’s the one who showed me the whole wide world. Please! Please, Professor, just hear her out.”

Professor Idabashi frowned, peered into Keebo’s eyes, then traced out a diagram with his finger while gazing into the distance. He bowed his head. “It’s true. I have no choice left but to admit it. Miss Iruma, you have achieved something that I did not have the courage to attempt. What K1-B0 has become is beyond anything I imagined when I started up this project. You have achieved the greatest success imaginable: the creation of real artificial life.”

What sort of fucking virgin thought that creation of life was the important part of the whole deal? Still, one thing was obviously true. “I told you I was gonna beat you,” Miu said.

Idabashi paused. Then, he nodded. “Yes. I yield.”

 Back in the entrance hall, Miu Iruma checked through all her stuff in preparation to leave. It was a shame to have totalled her mechanical arms, but she still had the blueprints for those somewhere and one day she would get around to making a new-and-improved even-more-flexible version of them. Plus everything else she’d brought with her was in good working order: Keebo had even fished the Auto-Puncher-that-punches-you-for-telling-terrible-dirty-jokes out of the trap Miu had left it in, after he’d extracted an apology from her for springing all those traps on him during the chase.

Once Miu was done rummaging through her backpack she stood up and glanced over to where Keebo and the Professor were waiting for her. Idabashi glanced between Miu and Keebo, and said, “Are you sure, K1-B0, that –”

“‘Keebo’!” Keebo and Miu interrupted at once.

“Fine: Keebo. Are you sure, Keebo, that you do not want to leave with Miss Iruma?” Idabashi asked.

“We’re in agreement,” Keebo replied.

“Yeah!” Miu exclaimed, “I figured I should bow out here and let Keebo grow into his own two boots. Wouldn’t want him getting clingy or shit like that. Still, I’m way looking forward to seeing what sort out guy Keebo turns out to be!”

Keebo smiled, and nodded. “Miu’s right. I still have a lot to learn, if I’m going to prove that robots are just as valuable as normal people. But I will do my best.”

“I’ll leave him to you, Idabashi.” Miu paused, and peered at the professor cautiously. “Just make sure you don’t try any of that sleazy shit I know you had planned for him!”

“I assure you, I intended nothing of the sort,” Idabashi said, “I will also assure you that I will send a letter to the Ultimate Selection Board endorsing your elevation. I still have my reservations… but I must recognise your victory.”

“Yes!” Miu was elated to hear Keebo cheer with her.

When Miu and Keebo quietened down, Idabashi said, “Just one last thing…”

“Yes?”

Professor Idabashi pointed at Miu, then out towards the front of the castle. “Ultimate Inventor… You will fix my drawbridge, before you leave.”

[callmeakumatized]

This Does Not Define You

(( So, Author’s Note or whatever first, because this is so important.

PSA: Thomas Astruc was asked through a tweet if he would consider putting in a character in the show who had Asperger's, to which he replied: "If you watch carefully the show, you may already find one."

And then I saw someone talking about October 10th being Disability Awareness Day.

And while I haven't found anything else mentioning this day, I couldn't let this opportunity to pass up…and here's why: You need to know that your "disability" does NOT define WHO you are or WHAT you can do.

I live with depression and "debilitating" anxiety. Some days are better than others, and, in fact, I have felt more myself in these last few months than I have in the last 5+ years. But there were dark days. I'm a suicide survivor. Twice, at two very different parts of my life. The second time I had to literally be "babysat" constantly for about a month and half. It was horrible. But I wouldn't trade that for anything, because it helped me grow into the person I am now. Now I'm on medication. And at first, I was embarrassed. People talk about disabilities as physical, mental, learning, etc., and part of those include things like Autism, Asperger's, Anxiety, and Depression. And I heard people talk about depression as a mental illness, a mental disease, and I felt dirty. People ask, "Why are you so sad? You have nothing to be sad about!" And I'm like, "Why am I so sad? What is wrong with me?"

But here's the thing that my awesome doctor helped me with. He calls this my diabetes. Sounds weird, right? But listen. If I had diabetes, it would be just something I have, an imbalance in my system that needs medication to keep me going, to keep me alive. This depression is the same way. It's not my fault. I didn't do anything to make this happen. It's just a part of me, something that can't be helped.

So, to finish this PSA, I have some words of advice: It's OK. It's OK to have a "disability". It's OK to not. It's OK to be yourself, even if you don't really know what that is right now. You don't have to have the answers, the "whys" to everything to be able to live a good life. And you are worth living a good life. For your loved ones, sure, but most importantly, really, for you.

Go talk to a doctor, please don't try to self-diagnose. Those docs are there to help. Really!

One more note: If you are feeling depressed, anxious, or just…off…talk to someone. A friend, a family member, your doctor, anyone.

If you don't have anyone to talk to, you can always talk to me. My e-mail is callmeakumatized AT gmail DOT com. (I know, original, right?)

And if you suspect someone might be having troubles, or suicidal thoughts, be that person to ask them how they're doing.

I love you all. Thanks for reading this, and please spread the word, share a hug, and spread the love. *hearts*

-Maki ))

"There's nothing more to do!" Ladybug almost yelled out. Her speech, though technically directed to Chat Noir, was let loose into the open Parisian air. Ladybug ran her hands through her hair, stalking around the rooftop, breathing becoming more labored by the moment. Chat hung back for a moment. Not because he didn't care, but because he did. He cared so much, he knew to hang onto every word, listening for true source of her distress so he could know how to perfectly help his Lady.

"I mean, Chat…they just expect so much of us…" Ladybug drew out, looking up to him momentarily. "The Mayor, the press, Paris…the world. What more do they want? We sacrifice everything for them – everything! How many years has it been? Years, Chat! Six? Seven?"

"Seven," Chat confirmed, recognizing her need for a direct answer here.

"Seven. Years. And we wasted how many dancing around each other?"

"Five."

Ladybug fisted her hands together before immediately relinquishing them. "Hawk Moth is gone. Vixen and Bee are here now, helping out. These people…they just…they just expect so much more than I feel like I can give them, Chat."

Point one.

With tears in her eyes, Ladybug looked up to Chat, her short hair ruffled slightly by the wind.

"Chat…what else do they expect us to put on hold?"

Point two.

"How are we…how are we supposed to live? I want…I want a life with you, Chat…Adrien. I want to just be with you."

Point three.

Marinette was worried about their plans for the future…and she was worried about failing in the eyes of her beloved Paris, and her beloved partner. Those were the three main points, though it didn't seem like that was really…it. As she paused in her soliloquy, every fear and emotion that had been trapped inside breaking through in tearful release, Chat moved forward to envelop her in his arms. She started to sob lightly into his chest. He placed a kiss into her hair, thinking how best to word his reply while committing every passionate word she uttered to memory.

"Marinette, there is nothing you could ever do that would be a disappointment to this city." He took a breath, deciding how best to word his next thought. "And if the pressure is too much…quit. Hawk Moth is gone, our job is done. You stood for this city for years…you're allowed to live a life." Lightly pushing her back so he could look into the eyes he loved so much, Chat continued in a more hushed tone. "And I would give up every one of my nine lives just to have the privilege to spend one with you."

"I don't deserve this."

"What?"

Ladybug sighed. "I'm not…I'm not whole, Chat. You know that. That's why we're here. That's why I'm ranting to nothing and for no reason and rambling and can't make up my mind about anything. And you…you're whole. You're complete."

"Don't, don't do that Marinette. The only way I would ever be whole is by being with you. I told you that when we stood across from each other at the altar, and you know I would never lie to you, Bugaboo."

Despite herself, a small, small smile flickered to Ladybug's lips. As fast as it appeared, though, it vanished. A tear-filled grimace replaced it immediately.

"Asperger's, Chat. I have Asperger's. What if…what i-if our…our kids –"

"Don't you mean our kittens?"

"Ha! No." Ladybug sighed, shaking her head before pulling away from Chat and turning away. "What if our kids have Asperger's too? O-Or something else, because of me, because of my –" Ladybug faltered here, wringing her hands together.

Ladybug was strong, but Marinette was stronger. Adrien had seen all sides of her for the past seven years, and loved each and every piece of her completely. She was always prone to freak-outs, or getting stuck on a subject, or maybe, perhaps, being a little too aggressive at times, whether against an Akuma or something less threatening. When a doctor had put a name to the "disability", Marinette had been glad at first, thinking things would change. What happened, however, was a shy girl filled with anxiety second-guessing herself even more, closing herself off from the world. That was when she had finally reached out to Chat. Or, rather, Chat Noir cornered her one day when he caught Ladybug sobbing in the shadows at the top of Notre Dame.

She had confessed everything. Everything. And she expected him to treat her differently. When he made no indication of doing so…that's when the real path to "healing" began.

Healing meaning Marinette being as accepting of herself as she was to everyone else.

And now they were here, at the true source of his precious lady's distress. And he would be there for her as he always was, as she always had and would be for him.

"Because of what, Marinette?" Chat asked gently, bringing their wondering minds back into the conversation again. "Because of something you see as a disability? So our kids might have Asperger's Syndrome. Would you love them less?"

"No, of course not. I just…I just don't want them to have to live this way."

"So you have Asperger's, Marinette. And I was raised by Hawk Moth."

"Completely unrelated."

"No, they're not." Chat took a step closer to Ladybug, taking one of her hands in his. "They are both things we were born into. Things that were and are and always will be things we can't change, things beyond our control. And both are things that we could easily let change or define us but we don't. You are and always have been more than you realize."

"More what?" Ladybug turned her small frame to face her husband's more fully, pulling the loose hair around her face out of her eyes, the hand holding her hair resting on the side of her face.

"Just more. You have more strength, more resilience, more courage –"

At this Ladybug shook her head. "I'm always scared, Adrien."

"So am I." Chat put a hand on her chin and lifted her face to his. She needed to hear his next words. He needed her to hear them. "Being scared doesn't make you a coward, Marinette. Running away does. But courage can only come from being scared in the first place and pushing forward anyway. Courage is the embodiment of –"

"Of Ladybug," Ladybug scoffed, pulling her head away. Chat grabbed her back, a hand on both sides of her face.

"Of Marinette," he iterated pointedly. "Ladybug, in turn, is the embodiment of Marinette. You were born as you, as the beautiful, perfect you. You chose everything after that, including the choice to be Ladybug."

Chat leaned forward and kissed Ladybug's forehead before leaning his own forehead against hers. "I love you, Marinette. You. And if our kid-tens are even one tenth of anything and everything that makes up you, they will be the luckiest kids in the whole world." He chuckled slightly, moving closer to her and wrapping his arms around her in a snug embrace. "Which makes sense, considering who their mother is."

Marinette hummed in contemplation. After a minute to digest his words, she muttered quietly into his shoulder, "Do you really mean that?"

Chat didn't even hesitate for a second. "Of course I do."

Chat suppressed his own sigh of relief when he felt the form of his darling, precious wife relax in his arms.

After another minute, Chat couldn't help the contented purr as his beloved returned his embrace, wrapping her strong, lithe arms around his own. She was so strong in so many ways. The tears were there before he could stop them, and Chat nuzzled his head into the crook of her shoulder and neck as he sniffled with thick emotion.

"Kid-tens?" Ladybug questioned after another moment. Both frames of husband and wife shook slightly before giving way to real peals of laughter.

The sun was setting over Paris, over their city, as the two heroes leaned on each other in more ways than one.

Currently it was to hold themselves up through fits of tear-streaked laughter.

"Hahahaha Chat, I'm pregnant!"

Chat froze mid-laugh to check his Lady's face.

"You're…?"

"Yes."

"But…I…kitten…?"

"Baby, yes."

"Ooohh, baby!"

Chat grinned, giggled giddily, and promptly passed out.

Not for the first time, Ladybug rushed over to the fallen form of Chat Noir. This time, though, he hadn't just taken a hit for her, he had shown her more the full extent of the barrier of protection he had slowly built for her over the years, brick by brick. It was all-encompassing, protecting her wholly from the outside, and – more expressly special to her – from herself, from getting in her own way.

There would never be enough ways to express her love for this cat-man.

…Except maybe to have his kid-tens.

They weren't perfect by any means, but they were perfect together, "disabilities" or no.

Fin!

[scribbles5thm]

Okay. I did it. I wrote the thing. Here it is. I’m a slut for Keiko/Yusuke and I couldn’t just sit by and not write this. Damn you, @yyhfanfiction for doing this to me (except not really. I love you). *covers face and blushes because I almost never share my smut*

Read below the cut or on AO3

Summary:

Nothing puts a chesire cat grin on Yusuke’s face faster than coming home to find Keiko masturbating. Prompt Fill for YYHFanfiction’s (tumblr) NSFW Prompt Palooza #38

The night was still. The streetlamps illuminated the abandoned roads. The windows in the shops and houses were all dark. The world was asleep.

Everyone, except Yusuke Urameshi.

He stood beneath Keiko’s bedroom window, his hands in his jacket pocket. A chill breeze rushed through the air, causing Yusuke to shudder.

His mother was out on a bender, who knew where. He’d been sitting on his couch, watching television absentmindedly. He’d been overcome with exhaustion, but was unable to sleep. The apartment felt hollow and empty. The hum of the TV echoed from every wall. He’d been alone. He felt alone.

So, he’d texted Keiko.

She didn’t answer. She was probably sleeping, Yusuke guessed.

Still, that hadn’t stopped him from throwing on his shoes and his jacket and setting out toward her house. He’d wake her up. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d just silently climb into her bed beside and she would wake in the morning to find him there. Maybe he’d just climb into bed next to her, pull her close and finally be able to sleep.

And there was no shame in that. Cuddling was fucking awesome. After all those nights he’d slept alone in Demon World, away from his friends, away from her, curling up next to a warm body was the freaking best. Besides, she was his girlfriend—nay, his fiancé. He was allowed to miss her. He was allowed to want to be with her. Only sad, lonely assholes thought cuddling was lame—probably because they didn’t have anyone.

If Yusuke had it his way, he wouldn’t even have to go out seeking her company. He’d gotten back from Demon World and almost immediately suggested they move in together. She’d hit him with a bunch of lame excuses: She wanted to be married first and she wanted graduate and he needed to get a real job.

Whatever.

But he had his noodle stand, and he had no plans to not marry her, so he supposed he could wait until she finished high school.

Except for tonight. He didn’t want to not be next to her tonight.

Yusuke looked up at her window and nodded to himself. I can definitely climb that, he told himself. He’d initially thought of tossing pebbles against her window like they always did in those girly movies Keiko loved so much, but she’d probably just yell at him and tell him to go home instead of finding it romantic.

Breaking and entering was more Yusuke’s speed anyway.

It didn’t take much effort for him to hoist himself up to the window. Fortune was on his side as the window was unlocked. He wasn’t sure what he’d planned to do if it had been locked, but that was of no importance now.

Quietly as he could, he slid it open. He maneuvered himself over her desk to the floor without making a sound and closed the window behind himself. He stepped out of his shoes and dropped his jacket on the back of Keiko’s desk chair.

Then he turned towards her bed. His eyes hadn’t quite adjusted to the dark, so he could just barely make her out. He could hear her breathing though. Long, steady, and deep breaths. It sounded a little unnatural; he thought maybe she was having a bad dream.

But then she sighed and Yusuke stopped cold his tracks. Oh, he knew that sigh.

Yusuke stood as still as a ghost while his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Slowly, he was able to make her out. Her head was pressed firmly down against her pillow, her eyes closed shut tightly, lips slightly agape.

He could just make out the steady rise and fall of her chest and see where her hands disappeared beneath her blanket.

For a moment, Yusuke thought about leaving. He’d walked in on a very private moment. He asked himself, what would she do if she noticed I was here?

And he had another thought. What would she do if she noticed him?

Yusuke smiled. Either Keiko was distracted enough that she hadn’t heard Yusuke at all or he was even stealthier than he thought. He assumed the former. If she was wide awake she’d have definitely heard him.

He could already feel his cock stiffening in his pants. He inhaled quietly and slowly, trying to relax himself a bit. He wanted to interrupt her, to join her. But not yet. He wanted to watch her, for just a little bit longer. When would he ever get a chance like this again?

Yusuke sank back against the wall, out of the glow of the streetlights from outside through the window. And he watched.

Keiko remained oblivious to his presence; hands still hidden beneath her blanket. She squirmed every once in a while, panting and shuddering as she kept from pushing herself too far. She didn’t want to finish just yet. He wondered what she had on beneath those blankets. Maybe she was naked. Maybe she was wearing that over-sized flannel set she was so fond of and had been too in search of release to bother taking it off. Maybe just a bra. Yusuke’s thoughts drifted back to her, in nothing.

Desire coursed through him and could feel himself losing his battle. Already, he was pressing uncomfortably against his jeans. Almost absent mindedly, his hand moved to pop open the button on his pants and he pulled his zipper down. This was not relief enough, however. He reached into his pants. He shuddered as his fingers grazed his sensitive flesh. He grabbed hold of himself and pulled his length from his boxers.

Slowly, he stroked himself, watching Keiko, waiting for the opportune moment to make himself known.

She kicked her blankets away and finally Yusuke could gaze upon her in her entirety. A cotton tank top, damp with sweat, clung close to her skin. She roughly massaged one of her breasts, the hardened peak of nipple was displayed prominently through the thin material. Lower down, her fingers were moving feverishly beneath a patch of curly brown hairs. She was spread bare before him, completely uninhibited, lost in her own world.

Panting, moaning softly, Yusuke could tell she was close now. Her back arched up from the bed; she inhaled sharply before letting out a moan, low and deep. Her hands didn’t stop though. She pressed on.

“Hahhh… ah… Yu… Yusuke.”

The sound of his name broke him. If that wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what one would look like. He pulled off his jeans and tossed them aside. He approached Keiko’s bed swiftly, but silently. He reached out and pressed a hand over her mouth.

Keiko’s eyes snapped open. Yusuke shushed her, climbing into the bed beside her. He didn’t say a word as his free hand sank down between her thighs. She went to protest, but as Yusuke’s hand replaced hers, his fingers beginning to trace slow circles around her clit, any protest she planned to make was lost.

Yusuke uncovered her mouth and Keiko pulled him down into a kiss. She grabbed desperately for his shirt, pulling their bodies together. Yusuke slid two fingers into her and she moaned into his mouth in response. Her head relaxed back into her pillow again. Her fingers curled tightly around his shirt. She arched into him, moaning quietly.

“Yusuke, I’m gonna cum,” she sighed.

Not yet you’re not, he thought as he pulled his hand from between her legs. He rolled her over onto her stomach and positioned himself behind her. He dragged his fingers down her back to her plump rear.

“I ever tell you you’ve got a nice ass,” he said, taking each cheek in the palm of his hands and squeezing tightly. Keiko hummed in approval. She rocked her hips slightly, grazing his cock. His body shuddered. He got the hint. Enough talking.

There was no hesitation or restraint when Yusuke slammed into her, hard and fast. Keiko bit down onto her pillow, trying (and failing) to restrain her moans. It wasn’t a moment later that she was cumming. Her walls clamped tightly around Yusuke’s cock and he thrusted deeply inside of her. Fuck, how could she feel so good?

Almost without thinking his hand rose and he smacked Keiko firmly on the ass. She whimpered in delight and Yusuke repeated the action several more times. Each time, she seemed to enjoy it more and more. Even now, in the throes of passion, with his cock buried deep inside her, he couldn’t help but be pleased that he was making his woman happy.

“I’m gonna cum again,” she moaned into her pillow. Yusuke thought he might cum right as she did; her hips bucking wildly, trying to keep her voice down as she cried out into her pillow.

When Yusuke’s climax hit, he pulled out of her quickly, spilling his seed all over her bare ass. Keiko collapsed down onto the bed, breathing heavily. He could see his cum glistening on her back in the glow of the orange street lamps from outside.

Yusuke laid down next to her and let out a deep breath.

“Damn, I love you,” he said to her. A second later, he felt her hand slam against his face. It wasn’t the hardest she’d ever smacked him: thankfully, she was tired.

“Why would you sneak into my room in the middle of the night like some kind of creepy pervert?” she scolded him.

“Jeez, I thought I was doing you a favor; you looked like you could use some help,” Yusuke said. “I definitely didn’t hear you complaining.”

“That’s not the point,” she said.

Yusuke chuckled. “I didn’t want to sleep at home by myself. I missed you. So I came I over. Didn’t know I was gonna get a show.”

Keiko scoffed. “You’re an idiot.” But then she kissed his cheek. Not mad anymore. She clambered over him out of bed.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need to take a shower thanks to your mess,” she said, motioning to her ass where Yusuke could also see a large red mark beginning to appear. He was going to hear about that later. She grabbed a towel and quietly opened her bedroom door. She peered out and quickly scurried away towards the bathroom.

Yusuke smiled again, watching her scurry away, and then sat up. He could use a shower too. Maybe he’d join her.