#(a.k.a. . . .uh... he's a kid. duh)

[mewkwota]

Obviously I forgot how to draw Lan again, so I am drawing Lan again. I also tried to brush-up his bangs so the Hikari symbol on his headband is actually visible.

There is also a cut-up thing following this previous post.

[trouvelle]

PB & (Alcoholic) Punch

i d e k  let me start by apologizing ;-; I have no idea what made me do this bc it just wrote itself in the middle of the night. For any grammatical and punctuation errors, pls add them to my growing list of apologies! Me is sorry if you don’t like it and hate it TuT

Fandom: DCMK Pairing: mostly Heiji/Kazuha and Kaito/Aoko, side Shinichi/Ran and Makoto/Sonoko Rating: NC-17 Genre/Tags: Comedy, Crack, College!AU Warnings: crack!fic, mild sexual content Summary: Sonoko throws a party and when a Truth-or-Dare game takes off, certain things comes into light. (a.k.a Kaito and Aoko finally kiss and Kazuha finds out about Heiji’s daddy kink)

•

“Kuroba is so drunk,” Heiji slurs, pointing towards the other side of the room where Kaito currently has his arms stretched across the window, “Look at him.”

“I know, right?” Shinichi leans back against the wall, and takes a swig from his beer bottle, lazily waving his hand over at another corner of the house. “Look at those two. No, not the dudes in tank tops, there—those two with the bleached hair by the kitchen island. Don’t they know what peanut butter is for?”

“I can think of thirty different ways to use that jar of peanut butter, and none of them involve sandwiches.”

“Wait, Hattori, look at that guy hugging the window. I’m so glad we’re not friends with these weirdos here. ”

“How drunk are you, Kudo? He is our friend. That’s Kuroba, you idiot. Now look at those two over there.”

“That’s us in a mirror, you idiot.”

“Oh yeah.”

Makoto picks his way through the crowd of drunken fools, cringing every time he accidentally steps on some trash or a limb. Wait—was that the crunch from some spilled food on the floor that he stepped on or was it someone’s body part? “This party is such a bad idea,” he mutters. He probably wouldn’t have been here if it’s not his girlfriend who’s hosting the party.

Shinichi and Heiji snicker at his dismay.

Making his way to stand beside them, Kaito sighs into his red cup, already looking like the world’s ended thrice over. “This cruel, sad existence of mine,” he sighs, for the thirty-ninth time, and he downs the cup, already reaching for another on the table he’s conveniently placed himself next to. 

“You’re one of the saddest drunk people I’ve ever met,” comments Makoto mildly. Kaito doesn’t even react, he just sighs again. He’s at the point where it hurts to not let his pent-up feelings out. If anyone wants to make fun of him, so be it.

“Yeah. What’s up your ass?” Shinichi slurs.

“I think I like Aoko,” utters Kaito dolefully, staring out into the crowd, where Kazuha and Ran are teamed up against the horrendously inebriated Sonoko and Aoko for a beer pong challenge, to a group of cheering spectators. “Since you guys said that it’s troublesome to fall in love with girls you grow up with, I have come to the conclusion that I will live my life in pain and sorrow and never again see the light of day as I bury myself in a cave of my own despair.”

Heiji blinks. “God, that is depressing. Let’s get out of here.”

As they move through the crowd, ignoring Kaito’s sighs, and the agonized shrieks that come from a few unfortunate people who they shoved out of their way, a person pops up in front of them suddenly, and Makoto nearly trips over himself in surprise. No more people-stepping for him. “Gah!”

“Holy shit,” says Shinichi, eyes wide, clutching at his chest, “What are you doing here?”

Shiho is bouncing on her heels, smiling wider than a kid at a candy store. “Sonoko dragged me here, duh!” she says, and her voice is high and squeaky. This is rather alarming. “Did you know that there is a secret stash of Red Bull in the pantry? She told me I can make a punch with it. A lot of people like it. I also dropped a bottle of Absolut in there. Do you guys want some? Wait here.”

And she slips away, giggling, leaving the four of them standing in profound silence.

“I’m scarred for life,” says Kaito.

“Never drinking again,” says Shinichi, but then he looks down at his half-full bottle, and he raises it to them, “Cheers!”

“Hey boys!” Sonoko calls out to them in a sing-songy voice, Makoto immediately zig-zags across the room to her side, “Wanna play Truth or Dare with us?”

“Sign us up!” shouts Heiji, and he drags Shinichi and Kaito, who’s still downing his last bits.

The girls and some others are seated in a circle, already playing, and Aoko says, “Truth,” voice cracking due to her skyrocketing anxiety at the anticipation.

“Who here, do you really want to get into bed with?” asks Sonoko cheekily, ignoring the obvious fact that probably, literally, everyone else already knows her answer. Aoko turns even redder, if it’s even possible. “Come on, answer!”

“Can I just switch to dare, please?” begs Aoko under her breath, looking at everyone but at a certain boy.

Sonoko is not giving up. People don’t call her Cupid-sama for no reason. “I dare you to kiss Kuroba-kun!” She says gleefully. Maybe too much glee. Kaito’s eyebrows flew mile-high to the ceiling.

“Well, here goes.” Despite the fact that she’s stuttering, she makes her way to Kaito and plants a shy kiss on Kaito’s mouth, taking him aback. The rest of the room whoop extremely loudly around them.

Kaito, his head spinning and his entire body going red, still reeling from the kiss, goes, “... Aoko?”

She offers him a shy smile and takes the empty space next to him before dropping her voice an octave lower so only he can hear her, “Later,” she promises. “We have to make the best of this game right now.”

“Okay, Kazuha!” Aoko’s eyes glint, and Kazuha gulps, thinking back on all that she’s ever done to Aoko, and what kind of revenge might be swirling around in her head right now. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” says Kazuha, because she can do anything that anyone dares her to, because she is a fierce, independent woman. When Kaito leans down to whisper something to Aoko, her confidence wavers. But nevertheless, she has made up her mind. “What do you have for me, Aoko-chan?”

“I dare you to call Hattori-kun ‘daddy’ for the rest of the night,” says Aoko, and the rest goes ‘uuuuuh oooooh~’ in the most annoying, drunken voices possible.

Kazuha blinks. This is the easiest dare that anyone has had, as of tonight. There’s literally no harm that can come out of this. “Done!” But then when she turns to Heiji, she sees that his eyes are wide, and still staring at Aoko and Kaito. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” stutters Heiji, but he’s already glancing nervously between Kazuha’s confused face, and Aoko’s girlish grin and Kaito’s evil eye, tries to distract himself by averting his gaze to Shiho, who just reemerged from the kitchen.

She is walking her way to the group, juggling four cups, and accidentally knocking over a random guest who falls over Sonoko’s beautiful leather couch. 

“Is that her special punch?” Ran observes slowly, who’s been sitting on Shinichi’s lap. 

“Don’t drink her punch,” comes a feeble voice from behind the sofa, who sounds suspiciously like Saguru.

“So, daddy,” tries Kazuha casually, and Heiji freezes in place. “Are you okay? You look a bit flushed, daddy.”

“I’m fine.” Heiji tugs at his t-shirt, and fans at himself. “I need to… go get some fresh air. Or something.”

Kazuha watches in confusion as he dashes away, and she follows, not even noticing the drunken cackle that escapes Kaito’s throat. For a guy who’s a sad, lovesick drunk not half an hour earlier, Kaito sure recovers really fast. Thank Aoko for that.

Kazuha manages to find Heiji pretty easily. She speeds up her pace and catches him just as he is about to close the bathroom door. He nearly jumps, spinning around to face her. “Are you okay? You don’t usually—Oh my God, Heiji! When did that happen?”

Heiji has pitched a rather big tent, clearly visible through the line of his jeans.

“Uh,” says Heiji, and he looks flustered. “Just now?”

“What do you mean just now? We barely even touched each other tonight! We were only playing—“ Kazuha stops herself there, and a flashback of the game runs through her mind. “Oh. I see.” Her lips curl up into a sneaky grin, and she adds for a good measure, “Daddy~”

Heiji quickly pulls her in and locks the door.

“Do you like it when I call you that?” She takes a few steps forward, and Heiji exhales, not taking his gaze away from hers. 

“Christ,” whispers Heiji, just as Kazuha’s fingers trail lightly up the expanse of skin under his t-shirt.

“Come on, daddy,” She whispers in return, snaking a hand around his neck to pull his head down, “I’m all yours, always.”

She can see something in Heiji’s eyes just break, and then he crashes their mouths together in a hot, searing kiss, backing her up against the nearest flat surface, knocking down some things in the process. He kisses like he’s in control, and she lets him. 

Resistance is futile, Heiji realizes, when it comes to Kazuha.

[nehswritesstuffs]

What’s your opinion on PE? Are the avatars just ironic or ....?

THIS IS A DANNY PINK APPRECIATION BLOG AND I’M GLAD YOU MENTIONED IT BECAUSE I REALLY CAN’T SAY IT OFTEN ENOUGH.

I mean, look at that sweet, pure af cinnamon roll.

Okay, real talk: Danny Pink gets a major raw fucking deal in the show and in fandom. Since DWns8 was basically “Clara the Polyandrist, the Family Television Show”, one of the major points of friction between Clara and the Doctor is the fact that Danny is her boyfriend--no doubt about it--while the Doctor, although he doesn’t admit to it, functions as a boyfriend/husband. It’s all based on a lot of misunderstandings, culminating in the special Last Christmas where they had to spell it out for one another that they were still in love and Danny’s death made it so that they were the only two in the triangle left. The “I’m not your boyfriend” in Deep Breath was pretty much a “but I’m ready to be your husband” in the Doctor’s roundabout way, though combined with the face value and the fact that he accidentally left Clara in Glasgow, it’s easy to figure out why she thought that facet of their relationship was now over.

Then enter Danny Pink. He is pretty much the ultimate human boyfriend. Sweet, sensitive, very accommodating, great with kids, a former soldier (to not only parallel with the Doctor but also probably appease a certain fraction of viewership), and is played by Samuel Anderson, who is the dishiest man they could have possibly gotten... he has it all. His character is designed to be a force so inoffensive and darling that you can’t help but feel sorry for him accidentally stumbling into a relationship with a woman who has an intergalactic sidepiece. He doesn’t even get upset with Clara when he figures out what the Doctor is and what he means to her--he just wants her to be honest. Like, that’s it. Clara was the one who figured she needed to choose one or the other despite the fact she had already made her choice... it was both. Under normal, real-life circumstances, I would expect her to need to choose between one or the other given social morays and such, but we’re in a hella soft-scifi where the rules of normal society don’t necessarily apply as stringently as in other shows. There was no choice to be made. No fighting. No problem.

However, instead of a fan-darling (a position oft held by much lesser characters), Danny became a point of contention. Fans derided him for being too bland (uh, he wasn’t the Doctor, duh), certain Whouffaldi shippers hated him for getting in the way of their ship (which he clearly didn’t, at least not personally), and there was this weird faction that also decided somehow that he was an abusive and manipulative boyfriend...??? I mean... how...??? Did we watch the same show??? I know that I might have projected a wee bit onto the character, but I’m pretty sure it was no less than I did with any other character. There were even people who were happy that he died. Happy. It baffles me even five years after the fact, because to me it’s nearly incomprehensible that someone would enjoy the show and yet hate him.**

That being said, I’ve made an effort to enforce Danny Pink related positivity here on my tumblr and in my fics. My tag for him here on tumblr and the filter over on AO3 are good places to start, but there are even more things that don’t feature him, yet pay respect to his place in Clara’s life.**** There’s even some stuff I’m in the process of developing that feature him prominently, because why the frick not. I love Twelve and Clara being together, I love the Whouffaldi ship more than I can express, yet I wholeheartedly enjoy carving a place out for Danny, a.k.a: Clara’s Earth Boyfriend. The fact I still feel the need to long-windedly defend him all this time later is kind of an aftereffect of how bad it was during ns8, because people were nastily rude and still are. I still have people blocked for posting garbage opinions (like that he deserved to die, was an ass, etc), so yeah, I’m in it for the long haul.

So, tl;dr: Danny is lovely and my use of him as my icon is by no means ironic or sarcastic or anything of the sort. He is baby, as the kids say, and needs to be protected at all costs. Let us fight the good fight together.

**The only things I can think of that would possibly be working against Danny’s favor are 1) the fact he’s not the Doctor and the audience is used to “rooting for” him; 2) people enjoying shitting on Moffat’s run for stupid reasons; 3) people enjoying shitting on Capaldi’s run for stupid reasons; 4) racism, latent/internalized or overt/obvious, regarding the casting choice of Samuel, which is very stupid but this is also a show from the same country providing us with Br*xit drama driven by mostly, though not exclusively, a ton of xenophobia, racism, and misplaced nostalgia for a time that you can’t get without including imperialism/colonialism; and 5) people are garbage and give about as many shits about Danny as Rose gave about Mickey, which was none (which is also a thing I have a big problem with, but whatever).

****A good example is the fic The Seal Man of North Ronaldsay [FFN]/[AO3], where the entire plot of the story is kickstarted by his death and is about Clara learning that she can respectfully move on. Danny also plays a major role in The March of Kasterborous and Gallifrey [FFN]/[AO3], where his and Clara’s forbidden relationship also kickstarts the plot and evolves from there.

[destiel-love-forever]

The Set-Up

In Claire and Jack Novak's opinion, it's been far too long since their dad went out on a date. Castiel Novak doesn't think it's an issue. His children disagree.

So, they make a plan.

Enter a dating app, a fake profile, and an unsuspecting Dean Winchester. What could go wrong?

Read Below or on AO3: The Set-Up

The Set-Up

The plan is simple. Only 3 steps.

Stage One: Make the dating profile.

The first thing the app asks is what picture or pictures they’d like to include. Claire wants the picture to be more on the attractive side, while Jack thinks it should be goofy. They decide to add three in order to cover all the bases. The first is of their dad when they went on a hike last month. He’s wearing that light blue shirt that makes his eyes bright. It was a weekend, so his stubble is grown in. The smile on his face is carefree, showing off his dimples and eye wrinkles. They both agree that he’s handsome - even sexy, if it were possible for their dad to be sexy - and use that as his main photo. The second picture is of their dad at an outdoor concert. He’s wearing his blackRebel With A Cause shirt and his sock monkey winter hat with the strings hanging down. The third is a picture of the three of them at the ocean. Uncle Gabriel had taken the photo just after a huge wave knocked them over, so everyone’s hair is all over the place. They’re standing together haphazardly, arms wrapped around each other so they can smile for the picture. You can practically hear the laughter.

“Perfect,” Claire announces, clapping her hands together after this part is done. “Now they see he’s a hot, goofy, single dad.”

“Do we want them to know the single dad part?” Jack asks nervously.

“Uh, duh! This isn’t Tinder, Jack. This is looking for a long-term thing. I think it’d be a little hard to do that while keeping his sixteen-year-old twin teenagers a secret.”

Jack shrugs, unable to argue. He clicks the NEXT button and they continue filling out the profile. It takes them thirty-four minutes, and a lot of arguing. It’s a relief when they finally submit it.

“Now what?” Jack asks as they stare at the finished profile.

“Now,” Claire pauses dramatically, giving Jack a crazed smile that makes him wonder if this plan was actually a good idea. “We wait.”

----

When Dean gets home from work after pulling a double-shift, he grabs a cold beer from the fridge and plops down on the couch. He kicks his feet up and turns on the TV to watch the football game that’s about to start. As the announcers go back and forth on what team is going to win, Dean starts messing around on his phone. His thumb hovers over the dating app Sam convinced him to install last week. He hasn’t looked at it since the first night. It’s not that he doesn’t want to find someone, he’d love to, but it’s such a time-consuming process.

After glancing up at the TV to see that there’s still ten minutes before kick-off, he figures he might as well scroll through the thing. What’s the harm in looking? It might even be entertaining.

Case in point: The first profile Dean sees is of a man maybe ten years older than him with a black Santa beard, who has wrapped himself in a strange-looking rainbow towel and is holding what looks like a pet mouse. Dean doesn’t even read the description of that one.

The next isn’t terrible. A younger guy with a cute smile. Dean rolls his eyes when he reads the blurb on the guy's profile. Every achievement in his life is written out for Dean to read - from winning his highschool talent show to getting a masters in business. He then lays out his dating history, in which each situation he was the victim.

Next.

Dean's breath catches when he flicks his thumb to a picture of an absolutely beautiful man. He's standing on what looks like the top of the mountain, grinning at the camera. Despite the hiking clothes and messy, sweaty hair, he still manages to be Dean's wet dream.

Holding his breath, Dean starts to read the blurb on this guy's - Castiel, Age 38 - profile. He's praying this guy doesn't suck like all the others.

I'm a freelance photographer, a terrible singer, and have a set of 16-year-old twins that make my world chaotic. When my kiddos graduate I plan on doing a lot of traveling. My Hogwarts house is Hufflepuff - yeah I'm a 38-year-old man who cares about his Hogwarts house, fight me - and my patronus is a guinea pig. I'm allergic to guinea pigs though, so not sure what that says about me. Message at your own risk if none of that scares you off.

Dean reads the paragraph two more times, grinning like an idiot. He scrolls through the rest of the pictures, each one sporting an equally good looking Castiel, and decides this one is worth a shot.

He opens up the chat feature but then his thumbs freeze. What does he even say? He rereads Castiel's paragraph before typing out what he hopes will be a response the guy likes.

Dean spends the rest of the game checking the app every two minutes. When he finally gets the checkmark that Castiel read it, he holds his breath and stares at the screen. Then it tells him Castiel is typing. Dean's heart races. He decides it'd be a good idea to grab another beer while he waits.

This Castiel guy has him feeling like a damn teenager again. If Dean's being honest, he kind of missed that.

----

"Dad got a new message!"

"Oh god, is it another creeper?" Jack asks, hurrying over to where his sister is sitting on the couch. It's a valid question. They've had some real wackjobs message their dad. One asked upfront for a dick pic. Another told him he'd like to bring him on a walk in the forest at night. Suffice to say, those got deleted.

"No, he's hot!" Claire grins at Jack, showing him a picture of a very handsome man that looks to be a little younger than their dad. He has kind green eyes and a warm smile. The picture shows him at what seems to be a barbecue, people blurred in the background as he stands there wearing a faded flannel and holding a beer. Relaxed. Casual. Not full of himself.

"What's his profile say?"

Claire clicks on the button that makes the profile blurb pop up and read out loud, "I'm a pretty laid back guy, but I still squeeze in adventures every once in a while. Nothing's better than a lazy Sunday on the couch watching football - though kayaking down the river is a close second. If those kinds of things sound good to you, feel free to message me."

"He sounds good," Jack muses.

"Good? How about great. He's perfect. I mean, dad isn't a huge football fan, but he could read a book or something as they cuddle! And dad loves kayaking and stuff like that."

Jack lifts his hands. "I'm sorry. You're right. He sounds great. What does his message say?"

After a second, Claire reads, "Your chaos doesn't scare me. Life should be messy after all, right? Plus, I don't own any guinea pigs, so we're batting a thousand so far. Look at us go - and then a wink face."

"He's funny. That's good! Dad needs to laugh more."

"Dad needs to do what?" Castiel asks, strolling into the living room while looking at his twins suspiciously.

"Oh. Uh." Claire and Jack exchange a look. Then Claire says, "Sleep more. We were just talking about how you're always up late and up early. You need to relax more."

Castiel chuckles. "I'll keep that in mind. Don't worry about your old man, kiddos. I'm fine."

As Castiel flips through the channels on the TV, Claire leans in to whisper in Jack's ear. "He's not fine, but he will be." She shows him the message she sent back to Dean, grinning mischievously.

"Stage two?" Jack asks in excitement.

"Stage two."

Stage Two: Arrange a meeting.

After seven messages stretched over 36 hours, Dean asks if they can meet. He suggests something low key and public, making a joke about serial killers, and Castiel (A.K.A. Claire and Jack) says he knows just the place. They agree on grabbing some coffee on Saturday morning at a little cafe downtown. Ten A.M.

That gives the twins sixteen hours to get their dad to that cafe at that particular time. Unsuspecting, of course.

Stage Three: Get dad to the cafe.

They ambush him at dinner. Claire starts - she’s usually the one to take the reins. Even as a toddler, she was the troublemaker of the two.

“So, dad. What are you doing tomorrow morning?”

Castiel, always very perceptive, pauses halfway through cutting his steak and looks up at his daughter. His eyebrows pull in. “Nothing… that I know of.”

“Perfect! We want to hang out with you.”

“Excuse me?” Castiel looks at Jack, then back at Claire, highly suspicious. “You want to hang out? With me? On a Saturday?” He looks at each of them again. “Without me telling you you have to?”

Jack steps in. “School starts in a week. I’ll be busy with football and student council, and Claire will be busy with dance and drama. We just wanted to spend a little extra time with you.”

Wanting to make this sound a bit more realistic - because they’re teenagers after all - Claire adds, “And we were kiiiiiind of hoping you’d bring us clothes shopping for back to school, too.”

“Ahh, there it is. The motive.” Castiel winks at his kids. “Fine. We can go school clothes shopping.”

“And coffee!” Jack adds enthusiastically.

“Coffee?”

Claire shoots her brother a look for shouting that at their dad instead of being more subtle, then smiles at Castiel and says, “Well, that’s what we wanted to do first. Get coffees and then go shopping.”

“You don’t have to bribe me, kiddos. I’ll take you shopping.”

“It’s not a bribe,” Jack states firmly.

“Yeah. It’s a thing.” Claire shrugs a shoulder. “It’s very New York City. Everyone’s been doing it.”

“Doing what?” Castiel asks, slightly exasperated.

“Getting coffees. It’s way cooler than stupid stuff like bowling or the movies.”

Jack nods. “It’s more sophisticated. Grown-up.”

This makes Castiel smile. “Okay. Grown-up coffee date it is.”

----

Castiel sighs as they walk into the coffee shop. It’s been a morning of overbearing children. First, he planned on letting them sleep-in this morning. What teenagers don’t want to sleep-in on Saturday, a week before they go back to school? Apparently Castiel’s. They made it clear they needed to get their coffee by 10 AM, because the mall opens at 11 and they don’t want to have to wait in lines.

Then what Castiel wanted to wear - old jeans and a hooded sweatshirt - was apparently not cool enough for them, whatever that means. They talked him into his nice pair of dark jeans and a soft grey sweater that’s thin enough for the lingering warmth of summer.

As he started driving them to Starbucks, he was quickly directed downtown instead. His kids love Starbucks. At least, they used to. Now it’s apparently not what everyone is doing. It’s not New York City - something they both keep saying, even though Castiel is clueless what New York has to do with anything.

Now they’re in the coffee shop, and Castiel is sent to get himself coffee while Claire and Jack go talk to a friend. They say they’ll be back in a minute, telling Castiel to just go sit. When he offers to get them their coffees, they both nearly shout at him not to before stuttering something about not being sure what they want yet.

Castiel gets his Americano and slumps down at a table in the corner. He pulls his phone out and opens the chat for Gabriel. He’s the coolest person Castiel knows - which sort of hurts the soul to admit.

Castiel: Do you know what it means for something to be ‘So New York City’? And since when is Starbucks not cool?

"Excuse me?" Castiel puts his phone down and glances up at the man who just spoke to him. He's taken aback. Not only is the man gorgeous - dressed in black jeans and a faded denim-colored button-up shirt that has the top few buttons left open, with a charming smile that involves the prettiest pink lips Castiel has ever seen, a dusting of freckles, and green eyes that feel like they could see into his soul - but he's also standing extremely close to Castiel. Like, if Castiel were to stand up, they'd be chest to chest.

Castiel clears his throat and awkwardly says, "Uh, hey. Can I help you?"

The guy stares at him for a few seconds, then his gorgeous smile fades. "You're Castiel, right?"

"Right." Castiel scans the cafe, confused. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"Seriously?"

"Well - yes."

The guy huffs, clearly angry now. "I'm Dean."

"Okay." Castiel scratches the back of his head and laughs nervously. "Well, hi Dean. Can I help you with something?"

"Great. I knew you were too good to be true. Just had to be a fucking dick." Dean turns to leave before spinning back around and glaring at Castiel. "Why even show up? Why keep messaging me? Seriously. What the hell is this?"

Now Castiel is really confused. "Messaging you? I'm sorry, sir. I have no idea-" his eyes travel past Dean's shoulder, catching sight of Jack and Claire trying to hide behind a bookshelf. "Oh, Jesus christ."

"What?" Dean growls.

Castiel laughs softly. That's all he can do in this situation. He's so shocked that his kids pulled this off that he can't even be pissed right now. He's sure that will come later, though.

"Let me guess. We met on a dating app or website."

"Dude, what is this? Is this some sort of fucking game?"

"No. Unfortunately, it is not." Castiel points at his twins, who look terrified. When Dean sees them, Castiel explains. "Apparently my pain in the ass teenagers didn't want to accept my I don't want to date right now. I'm assuming they're who you've been talking to."

Dean stares at them before turning to look at Castiel with wide eyes. "You know, it was written on your profile that they create chaos in your life. I was forewarned. Just had no idea I was going to be a part of their troublemaking."

"Okay, I need to see this profile now." Castiel laughs, trying to imagine what his kids would have put. "Can I buy you coffee as an apology?"

"An apology?" Dean scoffs, stepping closer to him so he can speak in a lower voice. "You're not getting out of this one, blue eyes. I'm on their side. You and I are on a date right now."

"We most certainly are not."

Dean winks at him. Winks! "I'm gonna grab myself a coffee. You just stay there."

"But-"

"Need anything? Muffin? Refill?"

"I - but - no." Castiel wipes a hand down his face, suddenly nervous. He's on a date. He's not ready for a date. He doesn't have topics prepared in case the conversation lulls. He didn't ask Gabriel what to do or say in every possible scenario.

Before Castiel can panic further, Dean is back. He puts a gentle hand on Castiel's shoulder and pushes him until he's sitting in his chair, then goes to the opposite side of the table to sit across from him. His grin is even wider than it was when they first spoke. That was a sexy, but nervous Dean. This is a confident, amused Dean.

Great.

"So, Castiel. Let's get a few things straight. Is your patronus really a guinea pig? And how exactly does one get themselves sorted into Hufflepuff?"

Castiel groans. What other embarrassing stuff has his children told this man? He looks over at where Jack and Claire or clearly spying on them from across the cafe. He narrows his eyes and mouths you two are dead while doing a line across his throat with his finger.

When he turns to look at Dean again, the guy is laughing. He's loving this.

"First of all," Castiel begins, letting a large amount of sass into his tone. "If we’re going to try this, you aren’t allowed to bash Hufflepuff. What’s your house anyway?”

“Gryffindor,” Dean states proudly.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Cliche.”

“Uh, I can’t help that that’s my house!”

“Did you take the official test?” Dean doesn’t even have to answer. The look on his face and the way his eyes awkwardly dart to the side give him away. Castiel points an accusing finger at him. “Exactly. So you’re one of those wannabe Harry Potter guys. No giving me shit for being Hufflepuff until you take the test too, asshole.”

Dean laughs softly, looking at Castiel with eyes that practically sparkle. “Alright. Fair enough.”

“Second of all, that right there?” Castiel points a finger at his twins, then at Dean. “Not cool. Not cool. You’re on team dad if you come around. No joining those two to gang up on me.”

The smirk Dean gives Castiel makes it pretty damn clear this rule isn’t going to be followed, even though he says, “Of course.”

Lucky for Dean, Castiel’s already hooked on this man. He’s laid back. Good looking. Funny. Charming. It’s easy for them to talk and tease each other. He’s making Castiel laugh for the first time in a long time. Plus, he already passed the crazy teenager test. If this guy can handle the fact that he was tricked by the twins to come here on a blind date with their dorky, uncooperative dad, then Castiel can give him a chance.

“What’s number three?” Dean asks.

“Huh?”

“There was a first of all. Then a second of all.” Dean puts his elbows on the table and leans closer to Castiel, almost like they’re sharing secrets. “What’s the third of all?”

“Umm,” Castiel looks at his coffee, feeling himself blush. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t blushed in years. “Third of all - ummm.”

“Can I do the third of all?”

Castiel tilts his head, looking at Dean in curiosity. “Sure.”

“Great.” Dean licks his lips, eyes flicking down to Castiel’s own mouth. When he looks back up at Castiel, it looks like he wants to eat him alive. “I'm bringing you to dinner tonight so we can have a proper first date. One where your two goofballs aren't spying on us."

Castiel turns around, laughing when he sees that Jack and Claire have moved closer now, trying to hide behind an open menu that barely covers one of their faces, let alone two. He looks back and Dean and smiles. "Dinner tonight sounds perfect."

[captainshadowgirllostfan]

This is the first Chapter Yugi POV of “How the Gang Met”

The day had started normal. The alarm clock bleeping, my hand crashing down to end it, and then Grandpa unceremoniously entering my room with his usual cheerful morning greeting, "WAKE UP YUGI!THE DAY CAN'T START WITH YOU SLEEPING THE DAY AWAY NOW!" And when that didn't work,there went several minutes in my room with my Grandpa beating me with a broom. Honestly, sometimes I wonder how it was this man who raised my father to be the sharp and brilliant businessman he was when half the time I swear the man was out of his mind. Maybe it was because I ended up being raised towards the end of the man's life. How old was he again? 60? 80? 90? A 100 years old?

"Now Yugi, today is an important day. The day you start your journey into becoming the great man you're meant to be. Now I know you've heard all the horror stories of high school, and I can't really say they are false. But trust me, it only starts that way. The key is surviving, and later becoming so great that when you come back to high school after many years, you'll say AHAHAHA! LOOK WHAT I'VE BECOME LOSERS! Unless you become popular." Doubt it. "Then you can still say, "AHAHAH! LOOK WHAT I'VE BECOME LOSERS!"

"Okay yeah Grandpa I understand." Not really. "But exactly how am I going to survive, if I don't really have any friends… Or even know exactly how I'm going to end up successful in the end."

"The key is, Yugi, to focus on your studies. And as for friends." Grandpa starts laughing boisterously, "Why you'll make a lot of them no problem. You know in my day I was rather popular you know. All the girls just wanted to be with me! But if you're anything like your father, you might not end up so popular. Not that your father wasn't meant to be unpopular. It was perhaps the fact that he was very reserved I suppose. Or the fact that everyone was just jealous over how brilliant he was!" Grandpa chuckled, while I raise my eyebrow.

"….You were popular?" I asked dubiously.

"Of course!" He grins. "What you don't believe your grandpa was such a ladies man back in the day?"

"It's not that I don't believe you..." To be honest I really didn't. If his way of getting girls is the same as now, there was no way women had any affinity towards my grandfather… Except for my grandmother, if my father's existence was any consolation, Grandpa probably did have some moves when it came to women. Still I highly doubted he was popular back when he was my age. I got his stature, and people with our stature just didn't invite popularity among the majority of people taller then us.

"Haha ah kids. So skeptical these days. Hmph. Fine don't believe me, not that it matters but it's true! I do have something though that may help with your friends' issue."

"Really?" I say, both shocked, intrigued, and hopeful. I mean I wasn't exactly popular in middle school… or ever really. Being a runt and all has it's drawbacks (again the reason #2 why I also think he's lying. I get my shortness from him and maybe my mother. My father oddly didn't get the shortness gene from his father, lucky bastard. Maybe it skips a generation…) like being bullied constantly in school, and being the last chosen in any sport or game. Oh also the lack of friends, because nobody wants to be friends with the short, unattractive, runt of the group. Hell if I wasn't such a runt, I'd probably not be friends with me either. I mean what benefit would,I, a runt be for a friend? Why exactly would anyone be friends with me? I'm useless. Hence the reason why I have no friends.

… Wow. This story suddenly turned into the sob story of an angst-y teenager, which I assure you I am not. I'm rather a very optimistic person, albeit shy. I do want to meet new people… I'm just not very confident. Being thrown into the dumpster many times during my past experiences of school does that to a person…

"Come now! Don’t tell me you forgot your lucky charm!” Grandpa laughed while I kept looking at him cluelessly.

“What are you-” I started to say only to find a golden box with a familiar creepy eye in the middle in my hands. “Your puzzle box!” exclaimed Grandpa while I stifled a groan. Right. My luck charm.

“You’ve been working on this since you were eight! I wonder why you stopped working on it. You were almost there!” 

I sighed. Not really. This puzzle had been the bane of my existence since I started. You see, I don’t like to brag, but when it comes to board games and card games I am the fucking king! I can win and complete the impossible. But this box… this puzzle…

Let me start in the beginning. When I was eight years old my parents died, and I had to live with my grandpa which wasn’t so bad to be honest. I loved my grandpa, but at the time… well I lost my parents. So to try and 

…I have no idea where that came from.

"So I was saving this till you were ready." He pulls out an ancient looking golden box. My hopeful expression deflates. Great, an ancient relic from his archeological days. I wonder if I rub it a genie will magically pop out and give me three wishes to make… "This Yugi is an ancient box" No duh. "Containing the pieces of a fabled magical item called the Millenium Puzzle. According to what this says, if you are able to solve the puzzle and put it back together, the item will allow you one wish, and it will happen. Your life will change forever." Grandpa ends with a dramatic air.

I look at him with a raised eyebrow as I accept his gift. Well not a magic lamp, but almost close. I guess I could humor Grandpa for a while. That and I do love puzzles, and any kinds of games really… except for the athletic kinds… cause I suck at those. "Thanks Grandpa. I can't wait to start solving this!"

"Haha I had a feeling you'd like it! You might end up making some friends with the puzzle." Yeah right, but Grandpa smiles and I feel a bit touched that he cares so much. Really I have the best grandfather in the world, even if I'm just saying that because I'm around him often, though if anything that just adds to how really awesome he is. I mean if you were around him as often as I, it'd probably drive you insane, and it does drive me insane, but in the end of the day, there really isn't a more caring person then my grandfather, plus he's the closest person to me. He knows everything about me, and understands everything that I feel! It's kinda creepy when I think about it.

"Now you go off now. The school bell will ring any minute now, and I don't want you to be late on your first day now"

"Bye Grandpa!" I wave my hand as I pack the Millennium's Puzzle Box in my back bag and make my way to school.

When I arrived at school, I was met with one of my old buddies from middle school. Actually, not really one of my old buddies, but he was a familiar face anyway. Joey Wheeler, A.K.A Asshole who won't get off my ass. Since as far as I could remember, the moment Joey Wheeler had come to Domino, he's decided that I would be his personal plaything. His excuse to the daily throwing my ass in a dumpster, stealing my homework, taking my lunch money, or whatever torture/punishment he decides to do to me for the day is one thing simple: to teach me to stand up for myself. Yeah, he's a real helper this guy.

"Well look whose finally showed up!" Wheeler says cheerfully as if we were planning to meet up and hang out before school. Really the day I become friends with this guy will be the day Ushio, the hall monitor, who takes his job way to seriously in my opinion, looses his head and tries to fall off a roof! Man do you have some gruesome thoughts. Maybe I should watch more My Little Pony.

"And where's that lunch you promised me?" Wheeler back to reality.

"What!? What lunch? What are you talking about!?" I ask my voice unintentionally getting higher with each word. Seriously what the hell is wrong with me? I'm not scared of this guy!

BAM! Ahhhhh… I gape as a fist almost collides to my face and hits the dumpster behind me. Damn it! How does he corner me so easily!

"Yugi! Here I thought we were friends. How am I goin' to eat if I have no lunch!?" Wheeler growls.

"I don't know." I whimper. Damn it! "Maybe you could uh buy some?"

"Or maybe" Wheeler smirks and I don't like it. "You could just lend me some money so I could buy some."

"Uh well… that isn't really what I meant." I mutter sheepishly scratching my chin. Wheeler grabs me by the neck shirt and then slam me back on the metal of the dumpster.

Geez what is with this guy and slamming people to dumpsters!

"Look punk! I know how loaded you and your gramps are being that he's a lead archaeologist and one of the greatest poker players in the world, and your pops owned one of those new big time businesses that you still get a paycheck from? Right?" How the hell did he know this? Shit! Is he stalking me?

"So I don't see how it is you can't have had some extra change in your pocket to give to a poor guy like me who's starving and got nothin' to eat later!" Wheeler finishes.

I just stare at him.

"Hey do'ya have a problem understanding English!" Wheeler shouted at my face and slammed me to the dumpster. Ow! That's going to leave a mark.

Okay this guy's not going to let up, but I'm not going to just hand him my lunch money like that! I mean come on I have to maintain some dignity and pride here!

"Okay! Okay! Here!" I gave him the change Gramps gave me to buy lunch today. Okay maybe I don't have any dignity and pride in me after all.

"Heh!" Wheeler smirked. Man! Is he insufferable! "Well I hafta say I'm disappointed Yugi! That was like taking candy from a baby! I expected so much more!" Are you kidding me!

"Oi Joey! What's going on?" Oh great it's Buffoon #2 coming in the join the party. And sure enough there's Triston Taylor coming around the corner toward us. Now compared to Wheeler, he isn't really so bad. I mean he and I used to do projects together in Middle School and he tries, emphasis on the "tries", to help out and not let me do all the work. He also, unlike Wheeler, attempts to make some civilized conversation with me, when he has to anyway, instead of smashing against a wall and stealing my money, all in all we have a very good non-intimate acquaintance relationship going on. Add Wheeler in the picture though, and well you can't really count on him to be my ally and defender. Today though it seemed he might be my hero.

"What the hell are you doing Joey? I thought you were going to stop picking on the shrimps ever since Kane transferred into the Rintama High School?"

"Now's not the time Taylor! Now are you goin' to help me throw this punk into the dump or are you goin' to stand there tryin' to reform me to your law-abiding ways and shit. Cuz I got news for ya buddy, you're wastin' your time." Wheeler sneered.

And so that's how I ended up in the dumpster that lovely Monday morning. Yeah my first day is going spectacularly! And Taylor really sucks at playing hero.

A/N: I know this chapter needs work. I’m gonna edit. I wrote it a long time ago and I know some things are wrong.

[idiopathicsmile]

so, last week i was thinking somebody should write a comic about a shy teen superhero whose powers are fueled directly by her own sense of embarrassment

then i, uh, wrote a ten-page script for it? and wound up kind of liking it a lot?

so consider yourself cordially invited to read issue #1 of my extremely indie superhero comic, and if you wish, you can illustrate it inside your mind, using the power of imagination!

(A teen girl sits on a swivel chair in her bedroom, facing the viewer. She’s got braces and glasses. Her hair is in a messy braid.)

PONNI: Hi! My name is Ponni Murthy. I’m sixteen, and um…

(We zoom out a little. She’s wearing a T-shit that says “The Moon ROCKS!” She’s holding a cane—covered in glow-in-the-dark star stickers—in one hand, and a stuffed animal cat—wearing a sloppily homemade astronaut costume—in the other. Posters cover the walls: fantasy movies, rocket ships, Ada Lovelace, Aamir Khan, Sally Ride, etc. She has multiple posters of the solar system. She gestures dramatically with her cane-hand)

PONNI: I LOVE OUTER SPACE!

(We return to her face. She looks very earnest.)

PONNI: That’s not, uh, directly relevant to the story, I just—I love it, so much.

(She has now taken on a pensive expression)

PONNI: I love a lot of stuff. But I used to feel a little weird about that.

(She is cheerful again)

PONNI: This is the story of how I got over (some of) my shyness, and rescued a gymnasium full of people, using dark powers I only kind of understand!

PONNI: We begin last year…

(Close-up on her stuffed cat, which is now holding a title card that reads): THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF PONNI MURTHY A.K.A. SHAME-FLAME THE UNCONQUERABLE)

(We are in a high school hallway. Ponni has one hand on her cane, the other hand on a wheelie backpack. She’s wearing a T-shirt with a stylized drawing of Mars on it and the words “Seein’ red.” Hand-drawn arrows and words identify her as “Ponni Murthy, Freshman” “Only South Asian girl in the entire school” “Plays bassoon in school orchestra (entry level)”, “Favorite Mars rover: changes daily”)

(A cute boy is waving. Arrows identify him as “Westley Bolt, senior” “Plays cello (first chair!)” “Those eyelashes! Hot dang” “Favorite movement from Holst’s The Planets Suite: ‘Venus: The Peace Bringer’ (sensitive!!!)”)

(Ponni waves back.)

WESTLEY: Uh, hey…Amanda.

(Ponni turns around. He was waving to Amanda, standing just behind her.) (Arrows identify Amanda as “Amanda Nolan, senior” “Flautist (second chair)” “Favorite space-adjacent detail: unknown” “Probably a really nice person”)

(Ponni watches them walk off together.)

(Close-up on Ponni’s face, which has gone sort of blank.) CAPTION: Engulfed by a white-hot, all-consuming embarrassment, like sinking into surface of the sun! A VOICE FROM “OFF-SCREEN”: Ponni?

CAPTION: Roiling shame-waves blast in all directions, too powerful to be contained in the body of a single American teen! Can it be that my sheer humiliation has gone…supernova? THE SAME VOICE: Ponni!

PONNI: What?

(We zoom out a little. Her friend Vanessa has joined her. Oh, and also…) VANESSA: Your arm’s on fire.

(Ponni looks down and sees this for the first time.) PONNI: OH CRIPES! OH CRIPES, OH CRIPES! VANESSA: HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE?

(The fire grows) PONNI: (Terrified but also embarrassed) Can anybody see??? VANESSA: WHO CARES, YOU’RE ON FIRE. PONNI: I couldn’t feel it! 

PONNI: I still can’t, it’s just kind of warm and tingly.

(Close-up on Vanessa) VANESSA: You’re in shock. Stop, drop, and roll, kiddo c’mon. (Arrows identify her as “Vanessa Delbeau, freshman” “Acts cool but we watch a LOT of Star Trek together” “Favorite astronaut: Mae Jemison” “Threatens makeovers sometimes but so far so good”)

PONNI: I’m not in shock! Look, it’s not even burning my skin.

(Vanessa peers at Ponni’s arm. Sure enough, her skin is fine.) VANESSA: Whoa…what even…

(The fire has vanished.) (Ponni and Vanessa stare at each other)

(They stare at each other for another beat.)

VANESSA: … “Cripes?”

(Ponni’s arm starts to smolder again.) PONNI: If I wanna start babysitting, I need to set a good example!

(Vanessa shrugs. Ponni’s arm fire goes out.)

ANDY: Hey guys! (Arrows identify him as “Andy Shin, sophomore” “Black sheep of the wrestling team” “The only other Asian kid in my neighborhood (we high-five a lot)” “Favorite planet: Uranus (lol)” ANDY: You’re not gonna believe this but they let us out of gym five minutes early and--

VANESSA: Ponni can control fire with her mind.

PONNI (embarrassed): “Control” is, um, a strong word? (Ponni holds up her arm, which is smoldering again) ANDY: Dude! That’s awesome!

(Ponni’s arms are extinguished.) VANESSA: Shouldn’t you, like, go to a doctor? ANDY: You don’t go to the doctor for superpowers! You go to the nearest evildoers and show them your wrath, or whatever!

VANESSA: So just…keep our eyes peeled for all the secret volcano lairs of suburban Michigan? PONNI: I don’t really…have wrath… A VOICE FROM OFF-SCREEN: Stop! Please!

(Andy, Vanessa, and Ponni turn to the other side of the hallway. A boy labeled “Freshman? (not sure)” is addressing two upperclassmen labeled “Bully 1” and “Bully 2.” Bully 1 is holding something above his head.) FRESHMAN: I need to turn that in next period! BULLY 1: Well duh, maybe you shouldn’t have made it out of candy!

FRESHMAN: Don’t eat my homework, come on! BULLY 2 (Affecting a snotty voice, clear from his face he’s mocking Freshman) : Yeah, come on!

PONNI: Is that… VANESSA: A surprisingly good model of a 14th century castle, built out of Starbursts? I think so. I might need new glasses. PONNI: No.

(Closeup on Ponni’s face) PONNI: Evildoers.

PONNI (striding right up to the bullies): Hey! Quit bothering that guy and give him back his castle, he probably spent a lot of time on it! BULLY 1: Or what?

PONNI: Or you’ll regret it. (Ponni holds out her non-cane arm like it’s about to erupt into flames.)

(It does not erupt into flames. Nothing happens. There is a long beat.)

(Ponni still has her free arm out)

CAPTION: Was it all just a fevered imagining? It can’t be, Vanessa and Andy bore witness as well. Unless they, too, are mere shadows, empty projections of my shattered, lonely psyche…

BULLY 2 (to Ponni) : Hey, Unibrow! Out of the way, Tiny Tim!

(Close-up on Ponni. She is almost crying)

(New panel, also a close-up on Ponni) PONNI: WHY DOES YOUR SEXIST, RACIST, ABLEIST BULLCRAP STILL SOMEHOW GET TO HURT MY FEELINGS? IT’S NOT FUNNY OR CLEVER, IT’S JUST MEAN!

(A tear slides down Ponni’s face) PONNI: YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO MAKE ME SAD! IT’S SO HUMILIATING!

(Zoom out. Both of Ponni’s arms are producing fireballs. The bullies are cowering in place, eyes wide.) CAPTION: That’s what triggers this power! My own embarrassment! Whoa, weird.

NEW PANEL: A WHOLE LOT OF SCREAMING AND FLEEING LATER…

(Andy and Vanessa are helping Freshman(?) re-assemble all his stuff. Ponni is no longer on fire) ANDY: Here’s your castle back, Trevor. VANESSA: Nice work on those turrets. (Arrow identifies Freshman(?) as “Trevor! Apparently”) Trevor: Uh, thanks. (To Ponni) Are you…okay?

PONNI: I’m fine. Are you? FRESHMAN(?): Yeah. Uh, I’m Trevor, hi. What should I call you?

PONNI: How about…Shame-Flame the Unconquerable.

VANESSA (whispering): I think he meant your name. PONNI: Oh! Ponni! (She holds out her hand to shake. There’s a flame coming off her palm. Awkward.)

PONNI (putting her hand back down) : Uh, good luck with your castle project! TREVOR: Thanks. Good luck…fighting crime?

(Ponni and Andy give Vanessa huge matching grins) New panel: Later that day, after school… (Vanessa and Andy are waiting outside Ponni’s bathroom door.)

VANESSA: Are you ready yet? PONNI (from inside) : Almost! VANESSA: Never thought I’d get to help design a superhero costume. ANDY: I did. VANESSA: Really? ANDY: Aim high, y’know? VANESSA: Ponni, c’mon! PONNI (from inside): I can’t believe people are gonna see me like this.

(The door swings open to reveal Ponni’s superhero outfit. Labels explain: “my dorkiest bike helmet”, “elbow pads”, “knee pads”, “ancient fanny pack I found in my parents’ closet”, “a wolf T-shirt (with noticeable mustard stain)”, a tutu labeled “(not sure why I had this??)”, a hideous plastic necklace “my least favorite aunt gave me this for my 11th birthday” and “sneakers with black socks.”)

ANDY: If your theory about your power is right, this is like, basically a super suit. VANESSA: The fanny pack’s a nice touch. What’s in there? PONNI: (grimly) Naked baby photos. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.

VANESSA: Ready? PONNI: Let’s go save the world.

Caption: For a while, everything went exactly as planned… PONNI (approaching a guy mugging a woman) : Stop right there! MUGGER: What the…what’s this kid doing here?

(PONNI makes an embarrassed face)

(We see the scene in silhouette—Ponni’s hands producing fireballs, the mugger jumping straight up in terror)

(We cut to Ponni foiling a bank robbery) PONNI: Give back that money right now! MASKED ROBBER: Is that a bike helmet? I…are you serious?

(Everybody in the bank stares at Ponni, who looks down.)

(There’s a hint of flames in her eyes)

(The next panel is Ponni grinning, both masked robbers raising their hands in surrender. The wall behind them is singed like she was outlining them in fireballs.)

(Cut to a very fancy-looking office. A wealthy businessman is sitting at a desk, pen poised over some paperwork.)

PONNI (from under his desk): Put the pen down! Don’t you dare put together another predatory subprime mortgage! BUSINESSMAN: Security! Security! PONNI: What you’re doing is wrong and you know it!

(Businessman stares at her. She is still balled up under his desk.) BUSINESSMAN: Listen, kid, do you even know what a subprime mortgage is? Or did you hear one thing on the news, and now you think you’re an expert? PONNI: You’re hurting innocent people! BUSINESSMAN: How long have you been under there?

PONNI: Um.

PONNI: I don’t…um…listen, I’ve got what’s called Juvenille Arthritis? And I was having a really good day this morning, pain-wise, so I thought I’d be okay down here, but now everything hurts and my cane’s at a weird angle. (she winces) Uh, I know I broke into your office, but can you help me up?

(close up on Businessman) BUSINESSMAN: …you’ve got to be kidding m—is your hand starting to smoke?

(Cut to a newspaper headline: MORTGAGE CRISIS AVERTED. The accompanying photo is Ponni sitting in a comfortable chair, giving a big thumb’s up)

CAPTION: But then things began to get more complicated. (Ponni is facing off against a Mad Scientist.) PONNI: Disarm that giant laser, right now! MAD SCIENTIST: Why should I listen to a child in a tutu and gym shoes?

PONNI: Because I’m the best darn hero this town’s got! CAPTION: Wait, what?

CAPTION: I try to summon up that rising, burning tide of self-consciousness, but I’ve done so much in this ridiculous costume, wearing it just feels good. I have to find a new path back to that terrible feeling. PONNI (beginning to panic): Uh…I get super excited when my teacher assigns us science projects! MAD SCIENTIST: Who doesn’t? (Reaches towards the laser.)

PONNI: I cried the first time I watched Shrek! MAD SCIENTIST: …each to their own?

PONNI: Stop! Stop right now, in the name of my 90,000-word Labyrinth/Harry Potter crossover fic! MAD SCIENTIST: …huh?

PONNI: I mean, Jareth had to…learn magic somewhere, right? So why not Hogwarts? The heroine is this seventh-year Ravenclaw student, who, yeah, it’s just me except she’s like, super super gifted at magic and she’s got a baby penguin for a familiar! I wound up naming my pet guinea pig after that penguin! I’ve been writing it for three and a half years. It’s got over a hundred chapters, and all the chapter titles are song lyrics!

CAPTION: I wait for the icy judgment to surface in his face. It does. I wait for the burning shame to overtake me. It doesn’t. Maybe it’s a little silly, but back before my powers took hold, working on that story was one of the few times I felt in control. It was fun to create something purely for myself. And cripes, it’s not like I was trying to destroy the world with a laser or something. I actually feel almost…proud. Uh-oh.

MAD SCIENTIST: Any last words? PONNI: Listen, if you’re going to kill me, can you do it fast? My curfew’s in twenty minutes.

MAD SCIENTIST: …your curfew is seven? PONNI: Well yeah, on weeknights! MAD SCIENTIST: Seven? You have to be home before the bedtime of most first graders?

(Flames appear in Ponni’s eyes.)

(Cut to Ponni walking away from a terrified scientist and a melted laser.) CAPTION: Way too many close calls lately. And now I only have nineteen minutes to get home. Crap. CAPTION: Then, in the middle of a pep assembly, things get worse. (A gigantic crablike monster has burst through the wall of the gym.)

PONNI: Stand down, stranger! Shame-Flame the Unconquerable is here! MONSTER: Then let me just say, Shame-Flame…

(scary close-up of the crab monster’s face) MONSTER: I respect you as an equal. CAPTION: Yikes, word’s gotten around. My foes are getting cleverer.

PONNI: How can you respect someone with a 7 pm curfew! MONSTER: That doesn’t reflect on you; it just means your parents want you to be safe. PONNI: Oh yeah? Well, I’m totally excited to take Advanced Trig next year! MONSTER: You’re preparing yourself for a job in the lucrative STEM field. No shame in that. PONNI: No, I mean, I love math for math’s sake. I’ve written little jingles about all my favorite numbers!

MONSTER: Well, that’s convenient. (Scoops up a handful of band members in one claw.) I hear music is good for the digestion.

PONNI: C’mon! Other than Vanessa and Andy, I’ve got no friends my age! Half the reason I don’t wear makeup is I don’t know how to do it right! Ever since Toy Story I talk to my stuffed animals, just in case! Doesn’t anyone want to laugh at me?

(Ponni looks around. Everyone is just panicking.) CAPTION: Cripes cripes cripes!

PONNI: Gosh, I said I’d defeat you and I can’t even summon the fire to light a birthday candle. Now that’s humiliating, right? MONSTER (pauses with that clawful of band members inches away from its terrible mouth): Not really, Shame-Flame. 

MONSTER: It’s just sad.

CAPTION: Well, that’s it. No other way.

PONNI: (cupping her hands to her mouth) Westley Bolt! Hey, Westley! (Westley is sitting four rows down. He turns around.)

PONNI: I’ve had a crush on you since sixth grade! WESTLEY: I know. I was just hoping you wouldn’t bring it up. I don’t like you back. You’re weird. Obviously.

PONNI (smiles, badass) : Oh, I know.

PONNI (turning back towards the monster) And I’ve gotta say, now that everybody knows how long I was hung up on somebody so wrong for me, it’s a little…oh shoot, what’s the word I’m looking for, here?

(The next panel is just flames)

(Then the smoke clears, Ponni’s fire is gone and the monster has fled, having dropped those band kids safely on the ground. It turns out that Trevor was also among them.)

TREVOR: That was incredible! Ponni, you saved our lives! You’re my hero!

(A tiny flame of embarrassment shoots out of Ponni’s hand.) PONNI: Oh, um. You’re welcome?  Anytime, sir. VANESSA (seeing the fire) : Ponni, your— PONNI: I KNOW.

(EPILOGUE: Ponni is back to present day, sitting on her desk chair in her room.) PONNI: Nobody was seriously hurt. Not even the crab monster, I don’t think. It took the rest of the school year to repair the gym. Andy got to switch out his PE class with an elective. He took astronomy, thinking it would be a blowoff class, but the teacher wasn’t very good so I got to explain a bunch of stuff to him! Me and Trevor dated for a few months, but he got super clingy when I left for math camp, so we broke up. C’est la vie. Oh, also I went to math camp! It was super daunting at first, and I got nervous and made mistakes. Luckily, my threshold for embarrassment is sky-high at this point, so y’know, I bounced back and enjoyed the heck out of it.

PONNI: Of course, not sure what that means for the next time some sinister force threatens our town. What happens when Shame-Flame gets…shame-proof?

A VOICE FROM OFF PANEL: No way! I found it! ANOTHER VOICE: Found what?

(Ponni looks over at Andy and Vanessa, who have been on the floor, going through a box of Ponni’s old things.) ANDY: Right here! The video of that anti-drug puppet show she did in fifth grade! PONNI: It wasn’t…for a class or anything, I was just really mega- against drugs. ANDY: Am I right in thinking it was a rock opera? PONNI: Uh… VANESSA: Ponni, what are the odds you still remember all the lyrics? CAPTION: Just kidding. That cringey feeling comes for all of us, sooner or later.

(Ponni, Andy, and Vanessa are roasting marshmallows on forks, using Ponni’s burning hand as heat.) VANESSA: Come on, one verse! PONNI: Next crab monster, Vanessa. Next crab monster. CAPTION: I guess it’s just a question of what you do with that feeling.

(Close-up of Ponni’s stuffed cat from the very beginning. It’s holding a card that says “THE END.”)

[mynameisntburgerpants]

URC log: The Chocolate Argument

Featuring:

@hashslingingcatboy‘s Byron “Burgerpants” Purrish as hashslingingcatboy

@nxcecream‘s Nicola “Nice Cream Guy” Sniffen as BLUEBUNNYBOY

Chrome’s Casey “Viceroy Bubbles von Salamancer” Egbert as BubbleBlower

This blog’s own Jonathan “Also Burgerpants” Walsh as grimalkinGreasejockey

This blog’s own Chara “Narcissus” Dreemurr as characteristicAmbidexter

BLUEBUNNYBOY: Names are hard to pick and honestly don't really matter if you think about it BLUEBUNNYBOY: I guess nothing really matters if you think about that, but I digress

hashslingingcatboy: Okay, but what would they have done if they'd had another kid besides Asriel and Chara?

characteristicAmbidexter: Togore.

hashslingingcatboy: Jesus christ.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: Name them after other things

characteristicAmbidexter: I will bet you a chocolate bar and two pieces of gold that they would have named them "Togore."

hashslingingcatboy: I have no doubt in my mind, actually. hashslingingcatboy: Don't think we'll ever find out here, though, since King Fluffybuns is kinda dead now.

characteristicAmbidexter: I can ask my instance of him. characteristicAmbidexter: He is hardly technologically inclined and not likely to join this chat, but I can record him and upload the result here. characteristicAmbidexter: But I will need to receive my payment.

BubbleBlower: if you're correct I'd be willing to do a little Teleporting of Materials to and from locations

hashslingingcatboy: Yeah, alright. Think I got some chocolate around here.

characteristicAmbidexter: I am not picky about chocolate as long as you avoid baker's chocolate.

grimalkinGreasejockey: Even white chocolate?

characteristicAmbidexter: =)

grimalkinGreasejockey: You have no standards, Chara. None at all.

hashslingingcatboy: Clearly we aren't exact alternates, because I love white chocolate.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: White chocolate is nasty you fool

hashslingingcatboy: White chocolate cheesecake, man.

characteristicAmbidexter: Nicola, you, specifically, are the wrongest kind of wrong. characteristicAmbidexter: You absolute fool. characteristicAmbidexter: All chocolate is good.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: No I just have standards BLUEBUNNYBOY: If I eat chocolate, I'm eating the good shit

grimalkinGreasejockey: See?! He has my back!

hashslingingcatboy: I love cheesecake even though it makes my stomach feel weird.

grimalkinGreasejockey: Milk chocolate for life.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: YES BLUEBUNNYBOY: Milk chocolate is the best! Especially when in the shape of a bunny!

characteristicAmbidexter: I am not even saying milk chocolate is bad. characteristicAmbidexter: Just that your palates are hilariously narrow.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: White chocolate isn't even chocolate bc it doesn't contain chocolate solids (a.k.a. cocoa powder)

characteristicAmbidexter: Well, what would you call it, then?

BLUEBUNNYBOY: Garbage

BubbleBlower: rude

characteristicAmbidexter: >:(

BLUEBUNNYBOY: There aren't even like any good recipes that include white chocolate BLUEBUNNYBOY: bc it's nasty

characteristicAmbidexter: Because it is meant to stand on its own.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: no

characteristicAmbidexter: There is a time and a place for white chocolate, just like every other kind.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: Yes and it's never and nowhere

characteristicAmbidexter: Meet me in the pit, Nicola.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: Bring a whiteboard. I will explain this to you.

characteristicAmbidexter: If you had a point worth proving, you would be able to provide your own whiteboard. =)

BLUEBUNNYBOY: No, i don't own one bc I'm not a giant nerd

characteristicAmbidexter: ...

grimalkinGreasejockey: Let me prove Byron and Chara wrong in one simple step. grimalkinGreasejockey: 1. I'm the admin of this chat. grimalkinGreasejockey: Done.

characteristicAmbidexter: >:(

BLUEBUNNYBOY: Listen to him; he's right

hashslingingcatboy: Uh, what do you mean no recipes for white chocolate?

BLUEBUNNYBOY: No good ones at least

BubbleBlower: so is everyone petty

grimalkinGreasejockey: If white chocolate was so good, why does it need the modifier? Why isn't it just chocolate? grimalkinGreasejockey: Ever think of that?

BLUEBUNNYBOY:  I may consume like nothing but ice cream, but I still have standards

characteristicAmbidexter: You could say the same of milk chocolate.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: IT'S NOT EVEN CHOCOLATE

hashslingingcatboy: White chocolate macadamia nut cookies.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: Yeah those are gross

characteristicAmbidexter: You FOOL.

hashslingingcatboy: It's cocoa BUTTER which is, surprisingly, part of the chocolate source. hashslingingcatboy: Also a great lotion. From what I've been told.

characteristicAmbidexter: Just because it does not contain the solids, that does not mean it is objectively not chocolate.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: Get back to me when white chocolate starts containing cocoa powder

hashslingingcatboy: White chocolate macadamia nut cookies.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: I can really use lotion bc I'm covered in fur but cool ig BLUEBUNNYBOY: *can't BLUEBUNNYBOY: typing is hard

hashslingingcatboy: White chocolate is literally just chocolate fat and it's delicious.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: No it's gross

characteristicAmbidexter: You shut your mouth.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: Never

characteristicAmbidexter: Please.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: No, I

hashslingingcatboy: The fat's where all the flavor is, man, that's why the face steaks are so marbled.

BLUEBUNNYBOY: I'll give you that but white chocolate is still yucky

grimalkinGreasejockey: Chocolate ain't a meat, Byron. grimalkinGreasejockey: Oh! Do you want your chocolate medium rare? grimalkinGreasejockey: That's you, Byron! That’s what you sound like!

BLUEBUNNYBOY: Jon please teach me how to be funny like you

hashslingingcatboy: The point stands!

grimalkinGreasejockey: It really doesn't!

BubbleBlower: hey have you guys considered that this is a stupid thing to argue about.

grimalkinGreasejockey: ...Duh, why do you think we're arguing about it?

[lovelysheree]

TIME TRAVEL (Time’s Up) Chapter 3

<--Previously...

“Y-you!” she glanced at the picture frame in her hand, “Y-you’re… how… you’re her?  And you’re him?” Alya’s eyes blew wide in shock.  And suddenly, the younger heroes understood the gravity of what was happening.  “You’re Marinette and Adrien!” she shifted her finger to the younger Ladybug and Chat Noir who had just entered the room, dropping the frame.  The glass shattered on the floor.

“This wasn’t a dream,” the young Chat mumbled, before fainting.

Both the older Ladybug and Chat Noir whipped around to see their younger counter parts.  

This was for the best…

…Right?

LINK TO STORY

Chapter 3

The level of screwed they were was beyond Chat Noir now.  Frankly, part of him no longer cared.  This situation that they were now oh-so-awkwardly in consumed him so tightly that he had lost the ability to feel the weight of it.  “Well,” he finally spoke up, “This is a bit… awkward.”

Ladybug, the older one (his Ladybug) punched his arm.  “No duh, Sherlock.”  

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Alya marched up to the older Ladybug, crossing her arms, “You’ve got a bit of explaining to do!  Why didn’t you tell us?”

Ladybug gently pushed Alya back, “We’ve already told you guys,” she pointed to the younger Ladybug who was still standing there, silent and aghast.  “They haven’t though because the right time hasn’t surfaced.”

Alya looked at the younger Ladybug, squinting.  “Is… is that seriously you, Mari?” she asked, her tone softening.

That seemed to have snapped the younger Ladybug out of whatever sone she was in.  “U-uhm…  N-no?” she answered, her hands trying to casually cross.

“Uh-huh, yep, that’s you,” Alya sighed, “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Am not!  I was able to hide this!” she gestured to herself in costume.  

The room fell into a long period of silence.  “Yeah,” Alya broke it, “I guess you were.”  Her tone was somewhere between sour and confused.

Both Ladybug’s shoulders fell in defeat.  “Alya,” the younger started, beginning to retransform.  A soft pink glow illuminated the room, and she carefully approached her friend.  “I’m sorry, I really am… I just… if you knew then Hawk Moth could do some serious damage.  I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.”

Alya shook her head, “I know, I know… it’s just, a bit shocking,” her head whipped accusingly at her friend, “You haven’t told anyone else have you?”

The young Marinette shook her head wildly, “I haven’t, I swear!  I mean, I haven’t even told Chat—”  Both their gazes moved onto the cat-hero who was still passed out on the ground,  “…About it…”

The older, not-passed-out Chat smiled, “Don’t worry, My Little Lady, I completely and whole-heartedly forgive you.”

The younger Ladybug looked back at him, her face flushing and then turned quickly to the ground.  “R-right,” she mumbled.

“Um… should we do something about… that?” Nino asked, gesturing to his fallen buddy.  

Ladybug nodded, “Of course.  Hu—erm… Chat… could you take care of that?  Just put him back in Hugo’s room.”

“You want your big, strong, and handsome partner to show off his muscle to you?” Chat waggled his eyebrows, flexing.

Ladybug smacked his arm playfully, “Right.  I’m fairly sure you weighed close to nothing at that age anyway.”

Chat laughed, walking over and picking up the younger him.  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’ll signal the other two to come over so we can give them the run down,” Ladybug told him as he walked down the hall.

“Other two?” Marinette asked from beside Alya.

“And who’s Hugo?” Alya pushed.

“I can only answer one of the questions directly,” Ladybug said as she picked up her phone from the coffee table.  “The ‘other two’ are two new heroes that showed up years ago.  They’re going to help us with Time Hog since I won’t be fight—… why am I locked out of my phone?”

Alya turned around, whistling innocently.

“…Alya.  Did you try to get into my phone?” Ladybug asked through clenched teeth.  When no response came except for a slightly panicked, younger Marinette, Ladybug released her tension with a single sigh.  “I should be used to it by now.”

“So…” Marinette changed the subject, “There are new heroes?  What are their names?”

“Queen Bee and Volpina,” Ladybug answered, setting her phone down to grab her husband’s instead.  

Marinette tensed.  “Volpina?” she asked, her voice tight with nerves.  

“Don’t worry,” Ladybug said, “She’s not the same Volpina.  I had a similar reaction.”

“You still didn’t answer who Hugo was,” Alya said, turning around.  

“Hugo’s a kid Adrien and I know,” she said, pressing the phone screen a few times before putting it back down.  “Okay, they should be here soon.”

“He’s a kid you know?  And he has a room in Chat Noir’s, a.k.a Adrien’s, future house?” Alya raised a single eyebrow.

“Well he’s related to him,” Ladybug further explained.  It wasn’t a lie.  Ladybug and Chat did know Hugo and he is related to Adrien because he’s their son.  

“How’s he related to—“

“And that’s what I can’t answer,” Ladybug spoke in a rush.  

Hopefully they didn’t connect the dots.  And even if they connected the dots that Hugo was Adrien’s kid, they still may remain ignorant that she’s the mother.  Hopefully her parents stay home and don’t interrupt them, though.  Because that could ruin some things.  Hugo was practically a gender-swapped version of her.

“Wait, did you say something about not being able to fight?” Nino asked.

“Yeah, I won’t be fighting,” Ladybug said.

“Why not?” Nino asked.

“Someone’s gotta make sure you guys don’t get hurt.  I’ll be there to use Luckycharm if needed, otherwise I’ll only use the cure,” she said.  “I need to save energy,” she said.  “Speaking of…” there was a beep from her earrings, “We should all get to bed.  It’s 2:00am.”

“But it was lunch time when we were back in our own time,” Marinette frowned, “Were we out for that long?”

“No, you guys came here late at night.  Only 2 hours ago…” Ladybug closed her eyes, clearly tired.  “There must be jet-lag with time travel.  Anyway, come on, let’s get you all in bed.”

“Where?” Nino asked.

It was then that Chat Noir emerged from the hallway.  Except, he was no longer Chat Noir, but Adrien.  “We may as well put you all in Hugo’s room… considering there are no identities to hide anymore…”

“You’re not transformed,” Ladybug observed, frowning.

“Should I be?” Adrien asked, somewhat sheepishly.  “Sorry, I figured it wouldn’t matter.  Plus, Plagg was getting tired.”

Ladybug waved her hand dismissively, “I guess it doesn’t entirely matter.”

They looked to see Nino, Alya, and Marinette all staring at Adrien.  Adrien had changed a lot from his past self.  He still ate healthily, but was no longer skin and bones.  Muscles sculpted his arms, and his neck had gotten a little thicker.  To put it simply, he was no longer a boy.  

Marinette’s face lit up when she imagined what was under his simple, white t-shirt and sweats.  She stood up quickly and rushed towards the room they’d be sleeping in without another word.

Adrien watched her leave with a bewildered expression.  “She’s not mad, is she?” he asked, looking desperately towards Ladybug.

“No,” Ladybug said, looking slightly flustered, “She’s not mad.”

Alya began to cackle, “I think I know what she is—“ But Nino tackled her and began to drag her towards the room they’d all be sleeping in.

“Uh, goodnight!” Nino said as he left the room.

Adrien looked back to his wife, watching her detransform.  “Ready for bed?” he asked her.

“Can we risk sleeping in the same bed?  They’re nosey,” she pointed out, walking over to him and embracing him, resting her head on his chest.

“We’ll lock the door,” he said, kissing her head.

“…Okay, fine.  And Volpina and Queen Bee will be her tomorrow morning.”

“Technically it’s already ‘tomorrow morning,’” Adrien laughed.  

“The more reason to get to bed,” she said sleepily.

Adrien picked her up off the ground bridal-style, carefully walking down the hall, “But I had something else in mind,” he said under his breath.

“We can’t,” Marinette mumbled, already falling asleep, “Not when they’re here… and I’m tired.”

He chuckled, opening their bedroom door and carefully setting her on their bed.  “Okay, bed-time it is…”

5 hours later…

A sudden crash woke Adrien and Marinette up.  They both hurried to their bedroom window, opening to curtains to find an Akuma floating in the sky.  

“Time’s up!” it yelled, “Where’s that stupid bug and cat!?”

Adrien’s eyes widened, “Well, there’s no time like the present…” he said, ignoring Marinette groan.