#And I said that my mind dumpster only had banana peels in it and no good ideas

[thatprettybunny]

Based on this imagine

Katsuki came to consiousness in a fucking dumpster.

His head moaned and his core ached from where the villisn had zapped him. He ruffled his way out of the garbage, cursing whatever God decided to fuck with him today as he slipped a banana peel off his shoulder. At first his mind raced. Where was he? This Alleyway was vaguely familiar, but as of right now he couldnt place it from where he stood.

His thoughts ceased however when he heard a pained female groan from the trash can. Maki! His brain went into auto pilot. Being the ever so stressed man he was, he hurridley pulled her from the trash can, cursing himself for not remembering her sooner.

God he really was an asshole. Maki had been his official, unofficial girlfriend for months, how was she not his number one priority?

“Because you aren’t her’s” a small insecure voice rang in his ear and he fought to surpress it.

The truth is Katsuki had asked her out, he had wanted her to be his girlfriend. But as fate would have it she wasn’t looking for anything serious yet, or so she claimed.

However it did irk Katsuki that her sentiment for nothing serious only seemed to apply for the actual relationship status. So for the past few months he’s been buying her flowers, she’s been unofficially staying at his place, fuck she even came over for thanksgiving last month with his parents!

Maki groaned and Katsuki snapped back out of it.

“Can you walk?” He asked, holding her pressed against him incase she fell.

“Yeah,” she staggeredly spoke, “but can we please get out of this alleyway so I can stop smelling whatever it is shat over there?” She joked, pointing her perfectly sharp red nail at a pile of brown sludge not to far off.

Katsuki’s eyes lingered on the tip of her pointed nail, remembering how good they felt digging into his shoulder blade last night. He never did understand how she managed to be a prohero and have nice nails, but he really wasn’t complaining.

He grumbled some drawled out response about how shitty of a job animal shelters did before wrapping his arm around her waist and walking out of the alley like the perfect unofficial boyfriend he was.

But as soon as they exited the alley, something invisible and heavy metaphorically punched him in the gut. His hero agency.

The one he’d started six months ago, the one he’d been struggling to keep afloat in a mediocre one story office building.

It was…

Well for lack of better words it was huge. All modern glass and potted plants. Hell, the building had grown at leat 15 floors since yesterday.

Katsuki tried not to shit himself from disbelief as he glanced around, desperate to find anything that could make sense of it.

A billboard caught his eye. All giant and holographic where it said “OFFICIAL HERO RANKINGS AS OF DECEMBER 6th 20XX” in big catchy letters. And in an even brighter array was Katsuki, no, Dynamite plastered all over it, most notably next to the words ‘NUMBER ONE HERO’

Beside him he heard Maki ask him something; she sounded concerned, but Katsuki didn’t really register any of it. Instead his mind raced. Was this really the future? Was this not just some cruel unforgiving dream bestowed on him by that lame quirk bastard whod zapped him?

The revolving door to the hero agency swung open, drawing his gaze.

And maybe Katsuki wouldnt have registered it if the woman leaving hadn’t been wheeling an army green stroller through it. Maybe he wouldn’t have registered it if it wasn’t you.

His breathe caught in his throat.

You, Prohero Spikewring, dressed in a midi, floral yellow sundress, the chunkiest pair of pink platform heels and your gorgeous curly hair out and waving in the soft breeze as you laughed at what he hoped was a baby in the stroller.

He felt his jaw tick.

God he hadn’t seen you since his first and last attended hero gala . He remembers looking down at you that night. A soft velvet midnight blue dress that hugged you in the best possible ways. Sheer gloves and dramatic winged liner. And he didn’t need to see to know you wore a signature chunky shoe. You’d sat next to him at the bar and, presumably, asked the bartender for whatever he had. He couldn’t remember exactly what the drink was, probably some variation of whisky, but what he did recall was your tentative face and your almost immediate coughing fit. Your fingers, nails all chewed up and cuticles somehow perfect held firmly onto the counter a you laughed dryly.

“How do you drink that with such a straight face?” You moaned, a pained smile on your face.

Katsuki was amused.

He found his gaze dropping to the perky curve of you chest. Your dress was strapless, and Katsuki was taller than you; granting him a free but probably creepy glance at the soft, pale skin of your chest and the peak of a black lace bra. Katsuki was maybe too amused. He laughed at your pain before grabbing a drink menu and ordering you a ‘Dynamite Passion Blaster.” A drink he was sure tasted more of juice than alcohol and was filled with a shit ton of citrusy fruit.

You let out a happy sigh when you drank the fruity concoction and somehow started a soft flow of conversation.

The rest of the night was a blur. The year’s statistics were read, you asked him to dance with you and then as you both laughed (mostly you) and slowly swayed, the clock struck midnight and then Katsuki kissed you; and you kissed him back.

Katsuki didn’t ask for your number that night, hell he didn’t even take you home that night. How could he when he knew he would be on a plane for the next twelve hours flying to the United States for a work oppertunity the very next day.

That being said, in this timeline he hadnt seen you in over a decade. Yet.

Somehow he knew you instantly. He recalled back to when he stalked your instagram. All short skirts and high shoes. Your style had evolved since then, fuck youd aged since then, but Katsuki couldn’t help but wince as his heart ached when you reached down into the pram.

Itd been over ten years. Of course you had a baby. You probably had a husband, after all you were 36 now. Hell, you could have an entirely new life by now. Youd moved on since that day, and he fucking hated how the jelousy made him feel like he hadnt.

You reached into the stroller to pull out a giggling, chunky baby. The little child’s eyes were bright enough to decay a ruby and you both laughed like Katsuki’s heart wasn’t racing at the speed of sound.

It hurt. Even though you were only his sappy lil celebrity crush, somehow it hurt to watch you wholeheartedly love a baby that wasnt his. It hurt him to know there was someone out there who hadnt blown it with you. Someone out there who youd always love more than him.

Not that you ever loved him.

Now Katsuki’s nails dug into Maki’s ever so smooth waist.

Thats right, he still had Maki.

He was about to say something, maybe an apology when the swing door swung open again, and Katsuki himself, no, the real fucking Dynamite sauntered out. His shoulders impossibly broad and his hair impossibly spikier.

Katsuki felt like beating the shit out of him.

That is until his eyes lit up and he wrapped a large veined arm around your waist, giving you an invisible kiss on the neck and pressing a soft kiss to the baby’s forehead. His baby. Meaning Katsuki’s baby with you.

Before he had time to process any of it he heard a faint analog clock ticking away in his ears, growing louder until another punch to his stomach came and he and Maki flew backwards into the pile of curious brown shit and losing consciousness.

Itd been months since that day he saw the future. Weeks since hed broke things off with Maki and days since he wondered if he should go out of his way to find you again. Unsurprisingly , he hadn’t come to a descion yet.

It’d been almost a year from that day, when Katsuki finally saw you again, and this time he didn’t let fear keep him away from you.

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

The Mess in the Corner

Summary: 

It's been a while since Tony's seen the corner of the workshop that Peter calls his own but when he does, he finds it to be a complete disaster. Asking Peter to clean it up leads to some interesting explanations and all he can do is laugh.  Basically, Tony learns that Peter is a typical teenager.

Warnings: None    Rated: G

Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker is a Mess, Random and Short... ...

Word count: 2077

Link to Post on AO3: The Mess in the Corner-happyaspie

 "Hey, Mr. Stark?  Can you look at this for me?", Peter asked from across Tony's large spread out, personal workshop.  The one that only a handful of people had access to and no one else but him had ever been allowed to make themselves at home in.  It was amazing, really.  

 Tony looked up from his own work and looked towards the small corner of the room that Peter had pretty much taken over during the last few months. "Sure, kiddo.  Bring it over here.", he said, wondering why the boy hadn't carried whatever it was over already.   That was typically how it worked.  Anytime the kid had a question or needed some input he would slink quietly over to wherever he was working, a project in hand.

 Glancing between his desk and his mentor, Peter sighed.  "Actually it's not quite stable enough to pick up yet.  Can you come over here?  I mean, if you're too busy that's fine but maybe when you have the chance?", he hesitantly asked because Tony was a busy man who did a lot of crazy important things and he was always worried about interrupting him.  Which is exactly why he'd never asked the man to come to him before.  It seemed less disruptive the other way around.

 "I'm coming, Pete.  Two seconds.", Tony returned with a smile.  He could use a break from staring at the screen in front of him anyway.  Helping the kid out was a good excuse to step away from it for a few minutes.  So, he closed up the multiple windows he had open and started towards his mentee.  Though as he got closer to where the teenager was waiting for his arrival, it occurred to him that he'd not been in that corner of the lab in quite a long time and he realized that the space looked very different than it had the last time he'd seen it.

 "Pete... it's a disaster over here.", Tony said as he took in the scene.  He knew the kid could be unorganized.  He'd seen the way his clothes were wrinkled from lack of proper folding and knew that the boy's backpack was slap full of wadded up worksheets and notes but what he was looking at was a whole new level of clutter.  It was teetering on the edge of disgusting.  "You should probably take a few minutes to clean it when you're done.  I'm not sure how you can even find anything in all this mess.", he said with a sigh, his eyes slowly roaming over various piles of junk and seemingly out of place items.

 "It's not a disaster.  It's controlled chaos. I know where everything is.", Peter said with a smile.  

 Tony huffed a laugh and placed his hands on his hips.  There was no way the kid knew where everything was.  The desk's top looked like a scrapyard.  "Oh yeah?  Where are your mini precision hand tools, hmm?", he asked with a quirk of his brow and watched with interest as the kid used his hand to knock a small pile of things into an open drawer before picking up the micro-tool kit and waving it in his face with a grin.  

 Taking a deep breath, Tony tipped his head towards the only part of the work table that didn't have anything stacked on top of it.  "What about that.  Is that... crumbs and Cheeto powder coating your desk?", he asked with a quirk of his brow.

 The desk was, in fact, covered in Cheeto powered and there was no denying, so Peter just shrugged his shoulders.  "Well, yeah but I have a really important equation written out in it.  See?", he explained while gesturing towards where you could vaguely make out where there was indeed an equation traced out in the crumbs.

 Tony blinked back in dumbfoundedness.  The kid had done a multi-step physics calculation with his finger, in a pile of crumbs.  "You, you have a tablet to store those sorts of things in   Or, you know, paper.  I realize it's super high tech in here but I do have paper, kid.", he said, his hands going from his hips to wildly gesture towards the supply closet that was stocked with numerous office supplies.  Everything from pencils and highlighters to pads of graphing paper and stacks of notebooks.  There were some things that just begged to be written down and he was prepared for just such things.    

 "I was in a hurry and that worked.", Peter replied with a verbal shrug.  He knew there was paper but he'd not had time to go track it down.  He'd been on a roll and the pause would have caused him to lose concentration.  He'd worked with what he had.  He'd been resourceful. 

 Moving on, Tony pointed towards the office chair that had been pushed off to the side and rendered unusable. "You can't even sit in your chair.  It's covered in... what is that?", he asked when he'd not been able to see what exactly was being stored inside of the cardboard from his angle.  Whatever it was it looked dusty, as if it hadn't been touched in ages.

 Following his mentor's gaze, Peter laid eyes on the box and smiled. "Oh!  That's the parts I was going to use to build the rotary indexer that Ned and I thought we needed for that science project last month.", he explained.  "Turns out we were overthinking it and decided to go another route completely."

 "If you're not going to use it then why do you still have it?  It's just in the way.", Tony strained because he couldn't fathom why it was still there if nothing was ever going to be done with it.

 "I might need it later.", Peter countered.  He and Ned had spent days collecting all of those parts from various dumpsters and consignment shops.  He wasn't going to just toss it out and the chair wasn't an issue in his opinion.  He tended to fidget while he worked and being on his feet was easier than sitting still.  Something about having the freedom to step side to side and dart from one place to another helped him concentrate.  He would have thought his mentor would have known that.  He was always telling him to be still whenever they ended up sitting side by side.  He couldn't help it.  His body just needed to move in order to think properly.  "Besides, I never sit in the chair anyway.

 There was no denying that Peter was rarely in a chair.  As such, he chose to let that one go for the time being.  Instead, he turned his attention to the area just above his mentee's table.   "...and how about that spider up there?", he said, pointing upwards with a smirk.

 Glaring at his mentor, Peter crossed one arm over his chest while the other pointed towards the neatly maintained web along with its small occupant.  "Hey!  You leave Jimmy out of this!", he said with more passion than was probably necessary.  

 "You... you've named the spider?", Tony sputter, once again baffled by the kid's thought process.  Peter cut his eyes to the side not answering and Tony threw his hands up in defeat.   "Oh my god, You can put that box in the storage closet and then wipe down that desk.  I'll go get a broom.", he said once again waving his hand towards the eight-legged intruder.

 Peter's mouth gaped open in horror at the indication.  "Don't you dare touch, Jimmy!", he gasped, taking several hurried steps towards where his mentor was already starting towards the closest that held the cleaning supplies, grabbing his arm as soon as he'd caught up.  "What did he ever do to you?", he pleaded, taking note of the incredulous look his mentor was sending him but not caring.  He happened to like his little spider brethren's company.  

 "Are you being serious right now?", Tony inquired and then shook his head.  It was all too obvious that the kid was actually being serious.  "Never mind.", he groaned as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.  "The spider can stay but the crumbs and the box are going.  I'll go get you some paper... and a new tool chest or something so you have somewhere to put all that other stuff."

 "I already have one.", Peter replied as if that should have been obvious.  Tony had casually delegated an entire collection of things to store his stuff in, he just... didn't always use it.  There were certain tools that he employed on a regular basis and it was easier to keep them out and spread around his workspace.  

 "Where?", Tony responded as his eyes darted around, not seeing a tool chest anywhere.

 Smiling, Peter moved towards the far wall and started moving a few things around so that the chest would become visible. "Behind this stack of plywood and sheet metal over here.", he explained and watched as Tony crossed the room to investigate.

 After pulling open three mostly empty drawers, Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose.  "I-- Do you have any executive functioning skills?", he queried.  While he didn't necessarily have all of his own tools perfectly arranged and categorized, he did put the things he wasn't actively using away in order to avoid complete disarray.

 Peter briefly looked towards the floor and began to twist the toe of his shoe on the tiled floor.  Then with a sigh, he looked up and folded his arms in front of himself.  "I make up for what I'm lacking in that department with creativity.", he flatly replied. 

 Tony nodded his head and smirked at his slightly miffed mentee.  "Well, could you please creatively put all the apple cores and banana peels into the trash can?", he asked with humor.  "...because that's how you get flies."

 "That's what I have Jimmy for.", Peter shot back with a broad grin that met his eyes.  However, he did decide to make a show of picking up one of the banana peels and dropped it into the small, admittedly empty, wastebasket beside his desk.  

 Tony stared back at the kid for several seconds and then laughed.  "You're a piping hot mess.", he mirthfully quipped.

 "No, I'm not.", Peter returned but he wasn't the least bit offended.  

 Tony's gleeful smile turned soft as he reached out and pulled the kid into his side.  "Yes, you are but it's not a completely bad thing.  You keep me entertained on a regular basis.", he teased but there was truth behind his words.  The boy kept him on his toes, made him laugh and was constantly reminding him of everything that was good in the world.  

 Leaning his head into his mentor's shoulder, Peter sighed contentedly. "I'm glad I can be of service.", he said after a few moments had passed. Then, just as he was really starting to relax into the man's grasp he has playfully shoved away.

 "Great.  You know how else you can be of service?", Tony asked once the moment the kid had caught his balance and started to laugh.

 "By throwing away the trash and moving that box?", Peter guessed with a smile. 

 "He learns!", Tony announced without missing a beat and then reach out to ruffle the boy's hair.   After that, he looked on as Peter began to pick up the rest of the empty snack wrappers and throw them away. As he did so, he remembered why he'd been called over there in the first place and started looking at the design that was sitting at the edge of the table.  The kid didn't even notice as he ran his hands over it and tweaked a few of the loose wires.  Despite the unholy mess, it had been fabricated amongst, it was good work.  

 "Hey, Pete?", Tony called out quietly, Peter humming back in acknowledgment.  "The mock-up you wanted me to look at?  That's some really smart stuff.  Good job, kid.", he continued with a gentle smile before slipping his hands into his pockets and starting towards the supply closet as promised.  

 Peter smiled over his shoulder as he continued to wipe the crumbs into his hand so that he could transfer them into the trash and smiled.  "Thanks, Mr. Stark.", he said and went back to cleaning up, a thousand new ideas already haphazardly flying through his head.

[lairep]

Three Days

@yuyuisakura-hime Ahh, thank you for thinking they’re amazing! That’s so nice to hear ; w; I’m so happy aaaaa

Technically my requests are closed for now, but I have a lot of pending ones for that prompt still (since 2017 ahaha *sweats profusely*) and so... why not do this on the spot, yeah? Yeah. Hope you like this! c:

17: "When you asked me out, this is not what I had in mind"

Ao3 Link || Other Works

Three days ago, Chat Noir had an epiphany.

Three days ago, when another akuma terrorized Paris and Marinette Dupain-Cheng practically pushed him off a bridge as part of a convoluted plan to trap said akuma in a nearby wastebasket, Chat Noir realized something.

Three days ago, Chat realized that he had fallen in love with Marinette.

Two days ago, he asked her out on her balcony at three a.m. in the morning. She was sleepy and had thrown a shoe at him, thinking he was an intruder at first, but he managed to ask her out regardless.

One day ago, she gave her reply. It was a yes. A tentative, kind of confused “sure?” but it was a yes, nonetheless.

Today, they are going out on a date.

Or, they were supposed to be going out on a date.

But things are not working out the way he planned.

“When you asked me out,” Marinette begins, scrunching her nose at the smell and squinting her eyes at him, “this was not what I had in mind.”

Chat plucks a banana peel from his shoulder and tries to shake away grime from his left shoe. There’s nothing he can do about the smell though. “I swear, I’m better than this,” he says, tone almost teary, “I just sort of had a run in with a dog and fell in a dumpster?”

“Right,” Marinette says, her tone deceptively neutral as she adjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder, “and what about those lipstick marks on your cheeks and neck?”

“Ah, that,” Chat flinches and wipes at his cheeks, ending up smearing grime on his face, “before I ran into the dog, I, um, got accosted by this group of people who turned out to be huge fans and, um… I got kissed? A lot?”

Marinette looks on, unimpressed.

“Unwillingly!” he amends quickly, realizing how he sounded, “I unwillingly got kissed, I swear! I didn’t ask them to! I ran away from them as fast as I could and that’s when I ended up stepping on the tail of this huge mastiff and it chased me three blocks down so I scaled this building and accidentally fell into a dumpster…” he trails off uncertainly as she squints at him some more.

“…so, the grime and the horrible smell are from you falling into the dumpster?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Chat balks and avoids her gaze in embarrassment. “Well, not exactly. When I, uh, exited the dumpster I kind of maybe tripped and this manhole came out of nowhere and I… just sort of… stumbled into the sewer?”

Marinette tilts her head and looks pointedly at the mangled sliver of clear plastic and crushed flowers he holds together in one hand. “And I suppose that used to be a beautiful bouquet that got destroyed along the way?”

Chat nods meekly, looking down on the floor of her balcony. “Technically, it was run over by a bicycle after I managed to save it from the fans, the dog, and the sewer…”

Pathetic.

Even to his ears it all sounded pathetic.

Three days ago, he was this perfectly cool superhero in Marinette’s eyes.

Today, he’s the epitome of all things Marinette should not have in a boyfriend, potential or otherwise.

Marinette hums thoughtfully, appraising him with her eyes. She doesn’t look like she’s displeased, but Chat knows that’s only because she’s an exceptionally kind person. Any other girl would have left him in the air the moment he showed up two hours late with lipstick stains all over his face and smelling like he marinated in rotten egg yolks overnight, holding a sorry excuse for a bouquet in his grimy hands.

The fact that she didn’t shut her door in his face as soon as his horrible sewer smell wafted over was a pleasant surprise for him.

The date hasn’t even started yet. He’s still just at the “picking the date up from their home” stage, and already things are this bad.

Now, he fears, the date will never start. And along this failed date go his chances for any other dates in the future.

Marinette sighs, shakes her head, and turns her back from him without a word. Dejectedly, he also turns and takes his baton out to vault back home. Or maybe roam the city of Paris for a while and cry.

But before he could press the button, Marinette’s voice drifts over to him, tinged with confusion. “What are you doing now, you silly cat?”

“I…” he looks resolutely at his baton, refusing to meet her eyes, “I guess the date’s cancelled so I’m just going to go home…”

“Well, of course it’s cancelled,” Marinette says matter-of-factly, hands on her hips, “we’re not going anywhere with you looking and smelling like that.”

She’s right. Doesn’t make the words hurt any less though.

“Come on, then.”

Not that any of it is her fault. She has the right to cancel the date and berate him.

“Kitty, let’s go.”

He really messed this up.

“Chat.”

And now he’s lost his chance with her.

“Chat Noir!” Marinette yells.

“Yes, ma’am!” he answers automatically, startled out of his spiral of depressing thoughts.

She giggles a little, and the corners of his lips turn up involuntarily despite his gloom. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Inside, duh,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Or do you expect me to come back up here with a hose and wash the smell off you? Because just so you know, we don’t have a long enough hose for that.”

Chat blinks, taking a minute to process. Marinette looks at him patiently, waiting for an answer.

“You’re not mad?” he manages to ask quietly. “You… don’t hate me?”

“Why would I be mad?” she shoots back, smiling gently, almost amusedly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. And even if you did, I wouldn’t hate you.”

He can’t describe what he’s feeling right now.

It’s like something warm is swelling up from his chest and threatening to burst.

He wants to laugh and cry at the same time and then throw a party and announce to the whole world that Marinette is the greatest person who ever lived and that he is so in love with her.

“So,” he begins, his face feeling like it’s going to split from how big and uncontrollable his grin was, “does this mean you’ll still go out with me?”

“Maybe not today,” Marinette says as she turns around, heading for her door. “Ask me again when you don’t smell like sewers and dumpsters.” She drops into her room and peeks her head out at him. “Are you coming or not?”

It was all he could do not to whoop and do a fist pump. Instead, he replies, “Coming, Princess!”

-

After an hour of a rather intense round of showering, scrubbing, and swatting away a hysterically laughing Plagg, Adrien transforms back into Chat Noir and exits the bathroom squeaky-clean, and—much to his delight—smelling like Marinette’s soap and shampoo.

Marinette is sitting on her chaise, watching him as he towels his hair. “You don’t smell anymore,” she comments, sniffing the air in his direction.

“Sure, I do,” he replies, grinning, “I smell nice.” Like you, he decides not to add.

Marinette rolls her eyes and pats the space on the floor in front of her. “Come here, I’ll dry your hair for you.”

He approaches obediently and sits down at the space between her legs. He tries not to think about her thighs on either side of him and instead looks down on the floor. “I’m really sorry about today,” he says earnestly, picking at the embroidered M on the towel, no doubt stitched on by Marinette herself. “I promise I’ll do better next time.”

Marinette plucks the towel from his hands and says, her tone lighthearted, “I guess if you’re going to be my boyfriend, I should expect more of these types of things in the future.”

“Boyfriend?!” Chat exclaims excitedly, his head whipping to her direction with breakneck speed. He could feel his face flushing and he knows he’s red to the tips of his ears. The real ones, not the magical ones.

“I said ‘if’, silly kitty,” she says, smiling indulgently as she starts up the hairdryer and runs her fingers through his damp hair. “You still haven’t taken me out on a proper date, so that title is still on hold. Now turn around so I can dry your hair.”

Chat obeys and happily leans into her touch, melting underneath the ministrations of her fingers and relaxing at the sound of the hairdryer and her soft humming.

Three days ago, he was just a superhero Marinette expected to save the day.

Today, he’s a potential boyfriend that Marinette expects to mess up, but still likes anyway.

He takes the hand sifting through his hair and presses his lips against her palm. She doesn’t pull away nor does she say anything, but he can see from the corner of his eyes that she’s blushing. Her humming has stopped and the hairdryer is facing an odd direction away from his head.

He smiles.

One day, maybe Marinette will have an epiphany and realize she’s in love with him too.

-

Three days later, she does.

[whispers in a small voice] buy me a coffee?

[sometimesthings]

A Fart in the Dark: A Play by Brendan Wells

[All stage lights are off and a fart sounds. Stage lights come up dim and slowly reach full during the action. There are dumpsters, trash cans, brick walls with graffiti, and chain link fences. Above the walls and fences we see the silhouette of a metropolitan skyline. The CULPRIT enters stage left, running, and dives head first into a metal garbage can that sits center stage. They reach out and pull a lid over themselves. During this we hear a dog frantically barking. Enter stage left the OFFICER, searching the area with a flashlight, and the VICTIM, crying hysterically.]

VICTIM : (crying and carrying a dog) Oh my baby, my sweet sweet baby! Why why why!

OFFICER : Don’t worry, they can’t have gotten far. I can still smell their trail. (OFFICER takes a long deep whiff). (Serious and whispering) cheeseburgers... they were just here. We’ll find that pervert.

[The two exit stage right. A spotlight slowly illuminates the garbage can as stage lights dim and the CULPRIT lifts the lid and looks left and right.]

CULPRIT : (muttering) coast is clear.

[The CULPRIT removes lid from their head to reveal a banana peel sitting in its place. They crawl out of the trash can covered in garbage and the spotlight follows them as they walk casually towards center stage. picking off garbage but leaving the banana peel]

CULPRIT : (chuckling) another one bites the dust.

[as they reach center stage they turn to address audience]

CULPRIT : I farted. I farted right on that ugly dog. And I’d do it again. I’m not proud of it, but I’d do it. I just can’t help myself, y’see. As soon as that mark turned their back I was all over that dog like flannel on Seattle. Boom! The perfect crime. And God, what a rush! Some people skydive—I fart on dogs. Nothing comes close. I have a friend, she’s a midwife, that’s her passion. Tells me she delivers babies for a living. Witnesses the miracle of life multiple times a day. I ask her “you ever fart on a dog?”

Let me tell you a little about myself. I am no pervert. You think that’s what I am, don’t you? I know I’m not gonna change your mind. I know who I am. Only God can judge me. And if he has a dog, he better watch out, too.

I don’t hate dogs. I’d appreciate the companionship—if you can believe it, I don’t have many friends. I’m quite charmed by dogs, actually. Their little paws. Their little noses. If I had a dog I would hate for someone to fart on it. Dog is man’s best friend, after all. Who wants to see a friend go through something like that? I wish someone would stop me, to tell you the god’s honest truth. So why do I do it? (yelling to the sky) Why?! Why do I fart on dogs?

Honestly I could not say. Maybe my mom farted on my head when I was a baby. Maybe my dad didn’t fart on me enough. Maybe I’m a sociopath who gets off on the power from taking advantage of people. But I don’t like to deal in hypotheticals. You can ask why all you want and it won’t change what is. I suppose they say those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it. That’s fine by me. I’ll keep doing what I do. It’s the world around me I’m worried about. Dolly Parton said “If you change one thing, you change everything, and we can’t have that, now can we?” I wouldn’t trade this life for anything, but maybe if something were to change maybe it’s I should never have been born.

[CULPRIT exits stage left while spotlight fades. After a pregnant pause, a distant and solemn fart is heard. Spotlight fades in to stage right, enter VICTIM. They walk solemnly towards center stage and turn to the audience.]

VICTIM : I could smell it before I heard it, creeping up on me like an anxiety, like a stinky shadow. But why me of all people? I go to church. I pay my taxes. I respect the rules. And what did that get me? Someone farted on my dog and I want answers. If there is such a thing as karma I must be a rotten individual to deserve this kind of treatment.

It’s changed me. I’m not the person I was. If God cared he would have done something about this. He would have made the eleventh commandment: (emphasis on each word) thou shalt not fart on dogs! Just one simple thing! And he can’t even do THAT!

It’s a tragedy—my poor little Louie! It was a nightmare. One moment everything was exactly as it should be. It was me and my little Louie. It was sunshine, scratch tickets, and orange drink for us, for ever and ever, me and my sweet baby. I can remember it like it was yesterday, but that lifestyle feels so so long ago now, years and years ago.

(Sighing) I can’t bring myself to eat. I smell farts around every corner. We don’t leave the house, me and Louie. He poops on the floor and I just deal with it. I don’t trust anyone anymore, not even myself. It’s ruined my ability to love and be loved. I’m getting a divorce. I’m...(weeping) I’m thinking about getting an iguana. I’m not proud of it, but when I look at my dog, all I see is a fart.

[VICTIM exits stage left, leaving the spotlight behind them on stage. The OFFICER stomps in to take their place]

OFFICER : I love this country, but there are some sick fucks out there. I’ve seen it all: tax fraud, genocide, all of it. Just last night I got called in on a 622—that’s a man with a snake in his butt. I asked the guy how that got up there. He said he didn’t know. I know. I’ve been around the block and I know what it looks like when someone has a snake sticking out of their butt. I can’t unsee what’s been saw! I’m a shell of a person at this point. I have no hope for the human race. But we gotta stay strong in the face of the dark world we know or before we know it the darkness becomes darker. If we let this perp get away with farting on dogs, what’s next? Chernobyl, USA, that’s what. Mutants in the street. I shudder to think.

I didn’t always know I wanted to be a cop. I just knew I wanted to save the world. And here I am: a dark alley, sniffing out a pervert with no moral compass. And who am I to judge? I’m the law, that’s who I am to judge. I’m what keeps the trains running on time. I’m what keeps planes in the sky. I’m the only thing that stands between innocent children and dog fart hell. And I take that responsibility on proudly. I am the Lincoln memorial. I am the Star Spangled Banner. And I always get my man.

[With this the stage lights come up and VICTIM (stage left) and CULPRIT (stage right) approach the center and stand on either side of the OFFICER]

OFFICER : I couldn’t be who I am without you.

CULPRIT : A hero needs a villain

VICTIM : And who would I be without you.

CULPRIT : Just another empty vessel in the breeze.

[Lights dim to black and characters remain on stage until curtain closes. At close of curtain, a fart is heard.]

[ask-iamnotanalicorn]

The Knockemstiff Incident

Well, the day started out normal enough. Briefcase, tie, appointment in a little town called Knockemstiff outside Canterlot. Salespitch arrived to quiet streets, pretty much what you’d expect from a small rural town. The afternoon had an optimistic feel to it, like he might only get hassled about his wings and horn one or two times today and make a good sale besides.

Well, he was technically right. The citizens never got around to noticing the wings and horn.

The red-and-white flyers scattered like trash on the streets should have been his first clue. The outlandish and thoroughly smashed contraption in the town square, the second. But if he’d seen the large, crudely-painted sign declaring “DEATH TO SALESPONIES” at the far end of Main Street, that would have been more than enough to send him running. Unfortunately, he was prevented from seeing this by the pony who suddenly stepped in his path, wearing a glare fit to melt iron.

“What’s with the briefcase, buddy?”

Salespitch blinked. This was not normally the first thing he was asked when showing up in a new place. He looked at the briefcase hovering in his yellow magic, then recovered as only a professional can, smiling with just the right amount of polite friendliness. “Uh, good morning! My name is Salespitch, with Quills & Sofas Incorporated. I’m a traveling salespony on business here in—”

“IT’S ANOTHER ONE!” the earth pony suddenly bawled in his face, and Salespitch startled back a step. It was then that he noticed the horde of angry glares being directed his way. A horde of angry glares accompanied by angry ponies stepping out of stores and houses like a mob of stalking cats. Salespitch coughed and smiled nervously, his thoughts racing as he slowly backed away.

“Ah-heh… Um, hello… Sorry, did I say something wrong?” No answer – only more ponies gathering on the street in front of him, rage in their eyes. “I’m just here to keep an appointment with a Mrs. Piebald about ordering a new sofa…” He flared his wings a little on the dim hope that someone would notice his alicorn-like appearance and be surprised enough to snap out of their laser-focused wrath, but no such luck. It was about this time that his dad’s old adage came to mind: “The smart salespony doesn’t wear out his welcome, especially when he never had one to begin with.”

“Well, I can see I’ve come at a bad time…” Without another word, the alicornus imitato turned and bolted back down the street towards the edge of town. An angry shout of “Don’t let him get away!” rang out behind him, and the sound of pounding hooves spurred him into a dead sprint.

This is crazy! he thought frantically, wings beating to try and speed himself up even more  – he’d always been better at running than flying. I’ve never been literally run out of town before! What did I DO?!

He was just passing the border of town when a flyer fluttered up in front of his face, explaining everything in a flash of red and white stripes and two grinning, disgustingly familiar faces. Salespitch’s yellow eyes narrowed to slits as he ground his teeth together.

Of. Freaking. COURSE!

----

Well, the day started out nice enough. Bag of bits, breakfast sandwich, nice cheap bed in a little town called Knockemstiff outside Canterlot. Clutterstep stepped out of his motel room, inhaling the fresh morning air. He’d have to see if there were any small jobs around town available before he moved on. Or maybe he’d stay here a few days. Marephy’s Law had left him alone for almost a whole week, and he wasn’t one to throw away a good deal when he managed to find it.

He should have known better than to tempt Marephy like that, even as a passing thought.

The distant sound of raised voices drew his attention towards town square. With nothing else to do and a hot sandwich to fill his belly, Clutterstep wandered that direction to see what all the fuss was about. It was easy enough to find the source: a modest-sized crowd for this early in the morning had gathered around a bizarre-looking contraption next to the town’s prize fountain.

Peeking over the heads of the ponies at the back, Clutterstep could spy two lanky yellow unicorns standing on the weird device. Both were dressed in snazzy blue-and-white-striped coats with straw caps perched on their red-and-white manes. Salesponies, Clutterstep realized, and felt interested despite himself. They must be selling something pretty intriguing to be drawing this much of a crowd so early in the morning. He definitely had no idea what it was supposed to be, but there were a lot of mechanical arms and brushes sticking out of it.

“And I tell you that nevah, in the history of this great nation of Equestriah, has a device of this magnitude and wondah been seen before!” the mustachioed pony on the left cried in a robust voice that carried easily on the morning breeze. “I tell you you’ll nevah find else like it in all your days! Gather closely now, my good sirs and ladies, as my brothah and I demonstrate the power of the indestructible, the indisputable, the inconceivable Clean-O-Matic 5000!”

Gasps and excited murmurs swept through the crowd as ponies were caught up in the hype. Clutterstep still had no idea what the thing was supposed to be, so he edged a little further into the crowd for a better look.

“Ah, yes, brothah, but perhaps it should not be us who demonstrate this wondrous device!” the second unicorn called back, waving his hoof over the crowd. “Perhaps these intelligent consumahs will believe that we merely make it look easy due to our intimate knowledge of our invention! But I tell you that any pony among you, no matter their age or mental acuity, can maneuver this a-maz-ing device on their very own! Do I have a volunteer?” His hoof suddenly shot out. “You, sir! Would you be so kind as to come up and help us demonstrate? No need to be shy, now!”

Clutterstep should have run the second he realized the hoof was pointing at him. He probably would have, except he froze in surprise long enough for the crowd to close behind and nudge him forward. With an all-too-familiar sense of impending doom, Clutterstep stepped up onto the Clean-O-Matic 5000 with the Flim Flam Brothers.

It was difficult later for anypony to say exactly what went wrong. Maybe it was the scrap of sandwich that fell into the gearbox. Maybe it was when the blue earth pony’s hoof snagged on a loose board and sent him tripping into the steering mechanism. But everypony could agree – with mounting anger and/or bewilderment – that the aftermath was both impressive and astonishing. Within sixty seconds, the contraption lay in a broken heap, coughing dust and smoke with a dying wheeze. The whole plaza was a wreck, and several shopfronts had taken collateral damage. But none of that was as bad as the spurting, shattered fountain at the center of town, which held its prized and now broken centerpiece and one badly dazed earth pony.

The stunned silence that followed was quickly shattered by angry shouts.

“You menaces! You’ve destroyed our fountain!”

“I thought you said this thing was indestructible!”

“Hey, part of this machine was held together by duct tape! What are you cons trying to pull?”

“Liars!”

“Thieves!”

“Tar and feather ‘em!”  

The Flim Flam Brothers proved to be amazingly talented at slipping out of town fast. Clutterstep was less lucky, lying dazed in the fountain with water dripping onto his head. Fortunately, he had become an expert at recovering from the daze of catastrophe, and he pulled himself upright just in time to take off before several angry-faced ponies could lay hooves on him.

It was never smart to tempt Marephy’s Law.

Clutterstep hid in a barrel down the alley from the general store for two hours, trying to ignore the smell of rotting banana peels from the nearby dumpster. He could hear muted voices and the occasional angry grumble as ponies passed him on their way to the square to help clean up the mess, probably keeping an eye out for him so they could do… something unpleasant to him, he was sure. Well, he’d show them! He could run himself out of town just fine.

The belltower rang noon, and that’s when Clutterstep made his move. He crept to the edge of the alley and down the street, glancing back frequently at the crowd over by the fountain. They seemed to be focused on some brown pony, which meant now was the perfect time to slip away unnoticed—

Then he heard a cry that made his hair stand on end:

“Don’t let him get away!”

Ah, yes, the part of Clutterstep not currently panicking thought wryly as he bolted across the town border with a horde of ponies pounding after him. NOW it’s a normal day.

----

By sunset, Salespitch and Clutterstep had come to agree on four things:

   1) They were pretty evenly tied at running speed.

   2) There was no way to be sure which of them the townsponies had been chasing, but they weren’t planning to go back and ask.

   3) If either of them ever heard the names ‘Flim Flam Brothers’ or ‘Knockemstiff’ again, there would be problems.

   4) And, in a bizarre and twisted way, it’s a little bit nicer to be run out of town with somepony than by yourself.

----

Author’s Notes: Welp, that was longer than intended, but I had fun with it! XD Thanks to Silver Quill for the use of his character Clutterstep! I’d been wanting to draw Salespitch with other OCs from the fandom, and I remembered this guy. Somehow it just seemed natural that their interaction would involve mutually running from a mob, although I’m quite positive this sort of thing happens to Clutterstep more than to Salespitch.

Fun Facts!

   -  This is actually a tie-in with one of Salespitch’s early Asks. I enjoyed brainstorming the events behind that and how they could include Clutterstep. XD

   -  Knockemstiff is an actual town in Ohio. Go on, google it. I found it tonight while looking for interesting town names and it was too amazingly perfect not to use.

   -  Salespitch currently carries around a small magical device that, if activated, will give him an emergency teleport one hundred yards away from his position. He didn’t have it when this occurred, but it was definitely partially inspired by this event. His dad and brother worked together on it since Salespitch’s magic isn’t strong enough for teleportation magic, much less a magical device of this complexity.     - Kudos to everyone who caught the Aladdin reference. :Dd

Any suggestions of other MLP OCs Salespitch could run into? Feel free to let me know! :D

Clutterstep belongs to Silver Quill

Salespitch belongs to me.

MLP:FiM belongs to Hasbro

[facarous]

THE ADVENTURES OF NYAN NYAN KAMEN|PART 1

by Facarous & Sophcaro

Hi! Facarous here. This little baby is a collaboration project between Sophcaro and I. We are posting in Spanish and English, and it will be a 3-part fanfic. Please enjoy it!

It was a beautiful day: the sun was shining, the wind rocked the treetops, the birds chirped and she had won a coupon with 50% discount for her next visit to the Doki Doki bar. It was a quiet and peaceful Sunday with nothing to do at the police station…

It was.

Who the hell was in charge of the weather section in the newspaper?

Sunny all day long or at least that's what they promised. She didn’t remember reading anything about a sudden 'apocalyptic storm' on the forecast today. It had to be a joke designed by a very sick mind.

So there she was: in a dumpster, completely soaked from head to toe, thunder echoing in the background, and lightning flashing as cameras trying to immortalize her moment of shame.

Could this get any worse?

“Senpai, are you all right?”

Oh, of course it could be worse!

“Of course, officer Matsui. I'm just enjoying the view from here. It's so…” she took a deep breath, “refreshing…”

“I only smell garbage…”

“Shut up and help me out!” Wan Wan Yuko stamped her feet, exasperated. She surely didn’t want to stay stuck there. Soon, a pair of restless ears with dark fur appeared, followed by two sparkling brown eyes. Her partner smiled cheerfully.

“Hai, hai…” A pair of hands began to pull her out forcibly. After several failed attempts - and covering her with even more garbage from various and very suspect origins - she managed to stand up at her full height. Which was not much considering she was only 4 feet 11 inches tall.

“Oh, senpai… you have a banana peel on the top of your head…”

“Stop it, stop it!!” Yuko slapped her hands away to try and stop her partner who was clumsily attempting to clean her up. “Puppy, stop it!”

Yuko had a headache. Her brown fur was a mess, and she smelled so bad she was pretty sure she would need at least two showers to get completely rid of the smell.

“I’m not a puppy anymore,” Her partner frowned, “I’ve not been wagging my tail in days.”

Yuko looked at her in skepticism. Despite her vehement protests, the young officer was wagging her tail in excitement.

“Sure, sure,” Yuko waved her hand at her to calm her down, “What about that cat. I suppose you did not catch it?”

“She is very fast! Bad cat! Daring to steal from the cute shop owner…” the puppy-not puppy pouted in displeasure.

Yuko sighed. That was the third store in a week that was stolen by a mysterious - and sexy - looking-cat thief.

One hour and two showers later...

 No money stolen. She had only emptied the cat food section. Well, apart from a certain brand, the whole cat food had been stolen. Just like with every shop in the neighborhood.

“That’s suspicious…” Yuko massaged her forehead as she waved her tail lazily, “Why did she leave that brand behind?”

“It’s the cheapest and less popular brand,” Yuko turned around to meet with the owner of the shop, immediately noticing her elegance and beautiful features. Thin ears, black curly fur nicely brushed, serene eyes and short tail. A real ojou-sama, Yuko thought.

Her partner was following the owner of the shop's every move, her eyes glued on her with a sparkling intensity. Yuko could almost see small hearts emerging from her chest, and flying around in the sky as butterflies.

She sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

“Don’t worry, miss!" Her partner suddenly exclaimed. "We’ll catch that thief! She’ll never set a foot in your shop again.”

Yuko raised an eyebrow and growled at her enthusiastic words. The puppy had a silly expression on her face, and was waving her tail cheerfully. Why couldn't she have a normal partner?

She cleared her throat, and addressed the owner of the shop once again. "You're saying you didn’t notice anything unusual in your store, until the thief ran out with all the food?”

“I don’t understand how she managed to enter," The princess replied. "Believe me officer; if I had seen her before, she would never have set foot in this place. Would you let someone wearing a mask and with a huge bag in her hand enter your shop?”

“Definitely not,” Yuko wrote down in her notebook, while sniffing the air here and now to try and capture the scent of the thief better. “Well, miss… uh… uh…”

“Matsui. Matsui Rena.”

 “I’m Matsui too! Matsui Jurina!” Jurina, who had been in her own dreamy little world until now - and staring almost obsessively at the shop owner - suddenly exclaimed while agitating her hands in the air.

The victim of the theft and owner of the shop, Matsui Rena, raised an eyebrow at the young officer's childish enthusiasm. Now, she was truly starting to doubt those two officers' ability to solve the mystery of this theft.

As of Yuko, she took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves at her partner's impossible behavior.

Kojima Haruna was not very happy right now. She adjusted as best as she could the huge bag on her back, and began looking for her keys. She was completely wet… and her damn keys were nowhere to be found.

She felt the pain in her arms once she finally dropped the bag inside the hall. A small sigh escaped her lips in relief before her attention got caught by a strange, strong smell.

“Guys?” She called, slightly apprehensive about what she was going to see. She took a few hesitant steps towards the living room, her eyes widening in shock at the terrible sight in front of her.

Chaos… that was the correct word to describe what she was seeing. It was as if a hurricane had suddenly invaded her apartment and destroyed everything on its passage.

"What did you do!" Haruna protested.

Soon, several meows could be heard, and a few pair of ears appeared behind furniture and at every corner of the room. "Mou... I told you I wouldn't be long... I went to look for some food!"

Meows increased and soon a mountain of fur, claws and tails approached her.

CATS.

Dozens of cats approached the newcomer. With their large, bright and hypnotics expectant eyes never leaving her.

"I brought food... lots of food." Haruna said with a proud smile. "This time, it was a big success!"

Walking into the kitchen she cleverly jumped over clothes spread onto the floor and avoided puddles of water, all along while trying not to step onto any of the little fur balls that were following her closely and wagging their tails.

She took multiple bowls that she brought back to the living room, doing her best not to trip on any cat in the process.

Kojima Haruna also known as ‘Nyan Nyan Kamen’ for the police and media - but more known as ‘mom’ for all those cats she has rescued and were homeless until two months ago - slumped into a chair. Well, one of the chairs that was not already occupied by one of her adopted cats.

It had not been an easy task to enter that store. Not since pictures of her wearing her legendary mask were posted everywhere in the city. The police was clearly adamant to catch her, and doing everything in their power to reach their objective.

She had to sneak discreetly into an alley, climb on garbage cans and jump into one of the windows that she knew belonged to the store. Or at least, that was what her logic was telling her. She was very happy when she realized that she was not mistaken. She was successful in finding the small storehouse.

There she found enough of everything. She opened her bag and grabbed all the cat food she could, only leaving behind the cheap brand her children didn’t like. When the bag was about to burst, she decided it was time to go. Lightning could be heard from afar, and it was obvious a storm was coming.

And the storm did come sooner than expected.

She hated rain. Her cat part bristled and hissed. She didn't want to get wet, of this she was certain. She couldn't stay here much longer. It was a matter of time until the staff or the owner of the shop would find her with her large bag full of cat food she had stolen.

She was trapped.

But she could not give up. After all, she was Nyan Nyan Kamen: the very sexy and elusive thief who had emptied two stores in solely one day. She had a reputation to maintain, and staying here waiting for people to catch her was not an option.

So, she did the first thing her brain could come up with…

RUN!

She opened the door of the storehouse, and ran through the store without looking back once. Police was shouting and ordering her to stop, but she successfully managed to make her way out and slip through their fingers.

Once outside, she ran like hell with the bag secured on her back.

The last thing she saw before jumping over a fence and finally losing her pursuers was a cute and small police officer falling into a dumpster.

She smiled.

It had been a piece of cake.

Rena counted once again the money in the cash register. She was about to close the shop, but the whole thing about the theft had left her nervous enough to keep an eye on the door every five seconds. In addition to that, she had this annoying feeling that every one of her movements was being watched.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable she massaged her neck, before clearing her throat and finally tearing her eyes away from the money when she was done counting. A pair of lively and big brown eyes stared back at her. Silence enveloped her for a little while, not sure what she was supposed to do. She sent a desperate glance at her employee who was cleaning the window glasses, but she didn’t get the expected help.

"Officer, is there something I can help you with?" Jurina's tail stirred warmly when she was called. She shook her head vigorously.

"No, I'm just doing my job. I’m looking after the shop in case the thief tries to come back." Rena gave her a somewhat cautious look.

"Officer... don’t you think..."

"Jurina," the officer stopped her abruptly. "You can call me by my name... and so I could call you Rena-chan."

"Eh?"

"By the way Rena-chan, when you close the shop, I have orders to escort you home." A huge bright smile was the perfect finale for such a claim.

"EH?"

Yuko was looking with displeasure at the infamous cat-food bag resting on her desk. It didn’t seem to have anything special; it was blue and had a photograph of a grey cat with blue eyes, long whiskers and a focused look on it. Yuko raised an eyebrow... the latest victim of the thief who was named by the press as Nyan Nyan Kamen, had mentioned that this was the less popular brand of cat food. It had to be very bad to sell so less despite its low cost.

How badly could it taste?

She smiled.

There was only one way to know.

"Takamina..." she called the catlike officer who was sitting at the desk next to her.

"Hmm?" It was a disinterested response, but Yuko could see the ears moving in curiosity.

"Have you ever heard about this brand of cereals?"

"Cereals?"

"Humm, it’s a new brand. Yesterday, they gave us a bag at the store where we went to investigate."

"Ah, you're in charge of the case of this Nyan Nyan, right?" The honey-colored eyes of her partner looked back at her.

"Hmm... yes... Would you like to taste it? There’s a picture of a cat on the bag."

"Doesn't sound bad. Today, I didn’t have time for breakfast and I was thinking of going out to buy something." The catlike ears’ twitched happy. Takahashi Minami better known as Takamina by her friends, got up from her desk and grabbed the bag under the expectant look of Yuko. "It really won’t cause any problem if I take some?"

"No, no, go ahead."

Smiling, Minami opened the bag and slipped her hand inside, only to grab a handful of the croquettes and unceremoniously throw them at her partner’s face.

"Hey!" Yuko got up quickly from her seat, wiping off her uniform.

"Do you think I'm stupid? This is cat food!”

"I just wanted to know how bad the taste is..."

"Am I a guinea pig?"

"No, you're half cat...” Yuko started amusingly, before clearing her throat nervously under Minami’s angry gaze. “Okay, bad joke...”

Haruna walked around the neighborhood with attentive ears and her eyes checking every centimeter of the place.

"Brandy!" she shouted for the umpteenth time. She kept quiet for a moment, attentive to any reply. "Brandy!"

Think, think... if you were a naughty kitten, where would you go?

She sighed. She had repeated over and over to her cats that they were not supposed to go too far away from the apartment. They were still small, and could get lost very easily. Her missing kitten had missed lunch, and she was beginning to fear the worst. It wouldn’t be the first time a cat ended up under the wheels of a car.

She felt a lump in her throat. She had to stay positive.

"Brandy!"

A very soft mewing stopped her immediately.

"Brandy? Brandy!" she shouted in hope, hearing the same mewing a few meters forward. Haruna smiled in relief... but that smile faded when she noticed where her little friend was. Indeed, the small Brandy was trapped inside a sewer. How on earth did it get there? Haruna had no idea how long the cat had been trapped inside but it was wet and looked very scared, ears pulled back and eyes anxious and wide open.

"Brandy? It’s me... I'm going to get you out of there."

Haruna, not caring in the least if she was in the middle of the street, lifted the grid and laid down on the pavement to try and catch the little animal inside. Everything would be much easier if her arms were longer and Brandy wasn’t moving backwards, completely scared.

"Brandy, It’s me. Come closer, let’s go home."

"S-Sorry...” a tentative voice interrupted her desperate attempts to convince Brandy that it was much safer to come back with her than to stay in the sewer.

"Can’t you see I'm busy?" she replied without looking away from the small and wet hairball. "Brandy! It’s me! You need to get out of there."

"Miss... I must insist..."

Haruna ignored again the unwelcomed interruption, instead focusing on trying to get her hand closer to the kitten. She pushed her arm further inside, ignoring the pain of her skin scratching against the pavement. She was just a few centimeters away from the scared kitten.

"Miss, this is very dangerous..."

"I’m really busy here," she said in annoyance, finally turning around to look at the person who was constantly interrupting her. Behind her, was standing a blushing police officer. Haruna frowned at the sight of the visibly hesitant and uncomfortable officer. That’s when she realized her embarrassing position - her behind was raised in the air with her tail wagging from side to side - and her cheeks colored immediately. Hurriedly, she stood up from the floor and adjusted her skirt as best as he could. "I’m sorry, officer…"

"You can't stay in middle of the street like that... it's dangerous."

"I’m really sorry, but Brandy is trapped in there," she explained, pointing at the sewer. "My cat is very scared, and doesn't seem to recognize me. I've been looking for him all day long."

"I understand, but you could have called the fire department for help."

The cat-girl kept silent at the suggestion. She had not thought of that.

"I’m officer Oshima. Let me take care of the situation."

Haruna was about to scream. She knew that police officer: she was the one who had chased her the other day. Oh yes, she remembered her perfectly.

"Of course…" she replied, even though her guts were telling her to run away as fast as she could. The officer didn't seem to recognize her, but she was sure it was just a matter of time.

Three hours, two firetrucks and an ambulance later, the small Brandy was purring inside Haruna's lap. The police officer had a slight nervous tic in one eye as she thanked and dismissed the poor injured firefighters who had received more than a few scratches thanks to the wild hairball.

Yuko looked up to the sky and thanked the gods who had so generously given her such a beautiful view of the girl’s ass. To be honest, she had to use all her self-control to face the situation with professionalism.

Her day had not started well. Takamina had technically kicked her out of the police station, and her interview with the owner of the brand of cat food Cat Chow Chow had simply been unproductive. The whole thing did nothing but reaffirm her suspicions of the possibility that the brand was probably launching a campaign of sabotage against its competitors.

It was obvious that, if there were no other brands in the stores, customers would be forced to buy their food of dubious origin.

However, her day improved greatly with that glorious vision. That cat girl had a very nice ass, and what about the rest? She was just stunning.

"Yuko... concentrate, you're on duty," she scolded herself as she approached her.

"Thank you very much…" the cat girl smiled and Yuko believed that was the most beautiful smile on earth.

"Yuko, Yuko Oshima..."

"Ah... yes, sure... Oshima-san, thank you very much but I have to go."

"If you want, I can walk you home. It’s my duty to protect citizens from any danger..."

"Uh... well... but my apartment... is really close..." Haruna was starting to feel really nervous, every second spent with that officer putting her in danger of having her identity revealed. The police officer was very insistent, and she couldn’t tell if it was because she had already been recognized.

"At least, tell me your name," Yuko inched closer to her and looked straight into her eyes. For a moment, Haruna was mesmerized by those brown, clean and crystalline orbs. She had to admit that since the first time she saw her, she found her very cute.

Officer Oshima suddenly stepped back, and her eyes widened in amazement. Haruna hugged tightly Brandy against her... That’s it, she had discovered her! She needed to escape as soon as possible! She stepped back slightly, ready to turn around, when two hands grabbed her shoulders and the officer’s deep look made her freeze.

"Your eyes..." Yuko seemed so focused, "your eyes..."

"Officer... you’re hurting me..."

"Your eyes are beautiful!” Yuko exclaimed. “My decision is made! Please go on a date with me!"

Haruna wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh, cry or run away.