#I love the idea that she was a very rough a tumble kid

[patriamrealm]

Can we see what Elesa would look like?

I've actually drawn her a few times but thanks for the excuse to draw a full body image of her.

She has Zebstrika aspects! and she does paint her hooves blue and red. In another thing built different in a world with aspects are headphones built to work with different shaped ears.

She is also still a model however I altered her clothing to be a bit more functional when battling because as a gym leader she often battles alongside her pokemon against others. She winds up injured, running around and pulling off attacks of her own. In other words these are specifically her battle clothes.

Also have a bonus kiddo Elesa when she still had blitzel aspects

[collabwithmyself]

I have had THE stupidest and campiest idea for a Warriors OC story. I learned that dams can have litters of kits that have different sires in the same litter, and I'm shocked WC never got in on that sort of drama. And so here we are.

Sparkstar of ShoreClan has had a hard year juggling her three kits and her duties to her clan. No one, not even her closest friends, deputy Tansysong and medic Rosewhisker, know who their missing sire is, but Sootpaw, Ashpaw, and Emberpaw have decided they want to find out by the time they become warriors, so they can have their sire present for their ceremonies.

The only problem is... they have three possible sires. The exiled Spider, FrondClan warrior Mothcloud, and kittypet Bug. With their assessment just a few days away, the trio has to come up with a plan to get answers- even if that means cornering poor Sparkstar with all three of her exes.

Sparkstar • she/her • orange/black/white calico • stressed-out workaholic that loves her three kids dearly, but hasn't had a day's rest since she unexpectedly became leader of ShoreClan while pregnant

Tansysong • she/xey • gold/white • sassy and a little snobby, adores gossip, fusses a lot over the kids and xyr friends

Rosewhisker • she/he • grey/red tortoiseshell • rough and tumble, fun loving and a little gruff, very proud of not wanting a mate, encourages the kids to get into trouble

Sootpaw • it/its • solid black • clumsy and kind, the "ringleader" of its siblings, curious to a fault

Ashpaw • she/he/they • white w/mismatched eyes, partially deaf • little bit of a bully and tends to raise their voice a ton, but extremely protective of their family and clan

Emberpaw • ze/hir • orange tabby w/polydactyly • quiet and easily unnerved, but trusts hir siblings and will follow them anywhere, often daydreaming

Spider • they/them • dark brown tabby • "classic villain" fakeout, got exiled for challenging tyrannical leader, rational and stern with a commanding presence but ultimately gentle and a bit of a pushover

Mothcloud • she/her • solid white, congenital deafness • graceful and proud and seemingly quiet, but actually a huge chatty dork once you figure out how to talk to her

Software Bug • he/him • orange/white w/CH • easily confused but extremely earnest and eager, if overenthusiastic and often overestimates himself

[mollymauk-teafleak]

How is the rest of the hotel residents with the huskerdust bbs?

Yesssssss I Love thinking about how they fit into this weird little family!

Okay, Lucifer is absolutely unable to be normal around them, especially considering that the last baby he was around was his little Charlie. When they’re born, he’s in the hallway Vibrating and trying to act casual and when Charlie notices and smiles fondly like ‘aw, dad, would you like to see the-‘ ‘YES’ When he sees them bundled up in their little crib, clinging to each other, ears twitching in their sleep, he’s absolutely crying. You were this tiny once Charlie…

Vaggie’s attitude is very much ‘I’ve had howie and Bella for a day and if anything happened to them, I’d kill everyone in hell and then myself’. She ends up teaching them a lot of her own fighting skills, running them through drills when they’re old enough on how to fight with a spear,l and throwing knives. As much as Angel Dust would love a world where his babies didn’t have to know this shit, he understands it’s important and teaches them to shoot

Charlie just adores them, they’re a sign that she’s on the right track and she really can make her friend’s lives better. She sees the little huskerdust family and gets to feel so good about herself. She actually devotes some of the hotel to make a little school for the twins and some of the cannibal kids and other infant sinners, making sure they get a good education and help them be better. She also gets Husk to do some language lessons and some basic maths (he’s pretty good at mental arithmetic, a nice side effect of having a gambling addiction). Angel offers to teach sex Ed to the older kids, much to the twins horror

Cherri is a little unsure around the babies at first, a little nervous at how small and fragile newborns are. But once she realises Angel Dust trusts her with them, she really grows to love them, she’s one of their favourite babysitters, she’s always ready to rough and tumble with them.

@minky-for-short also has a lovely idea about Charlie using her new friend in heaven, Emily, to let Angel Dust’s twin sister know that she’s an auntie now, to let them send pictures and letters between each other. There’s also a much Angstier idea of the rest of Angel’s family finding out, the ones that are also in hell

Bella gets super into magic like her daddy, he’ll help her put on little magic shows in the lobby, letting her wear his top hat and introducing her as The Amazing Belladonna. He’ll act as her assistant (gently rescuing the tricks she messes up at first). Every guest in the hotel comes along to watch her performances, applauding like crazy and making her smile so big

[if-lost-please-return-to-maliksi]

POLARIS

Disclaimer: I do not own Maliksi, or Makisig (the Tamawo bros). Full Credit goes to HC - @ask-emilz-de-philz. Please check out their blog for amazing art and the wonderful world of Planet Puto.

A/N: This one is the sequel to Rough around the Edges. The last chapter (Rough Around the Edges - Final Part) may seem rushed- honestly, it is. Not in a way that I wanted to finish it at that, but my ADHD brain sometimes gets sudden bursts of ideas that I need to quickly get into my drafts, however, my fingers are too slow to type everything. Those I didn't get to type is somehow forgotten or changed into something else, thus explains the inconsistencies in pace, typos, wrong grammar, and other imperfections in my writing. (No, I am not sad or apologetic about it. I have a lot to improve and I have all the time in the world :D ) Still, I am thankful for everyone who takes time to read the products of my mind. I love writing about Maliksi btw, I think his character is complex and simple in itself and I am absolutely smitten with him. <3 Love HC and everything they do, as well as my fellow Planet Puto fans and enjoyers.

((AND NO, I AM NOT HURTING YOUR HEARTS THIS TIMEEE))

"Hey old hag, slow down or do you wanna get your second hip replacement right away?" Maliksi grumbled as he helped Amor's granddaughter, Maricela sit into a chair at the patio. She and Maliksi became friends- sharing their adoration for Amor.

Maricela has been old now and being in her 70's wasn't that enjoyable for her. She recently got hip replacement surgery and her grandchildren will be coming home from the city next week to take care of her.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure Lola Amor loved not getting this old. That woman died pretty." Maricela softly chuckled. "Thank you for visiting, Maliksi."

Maliksi scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. Can't have you tumbling around your backyard again before Amor scolds me on my dreams."

"Lola visits you on your dreams? Wait, you guys sleep?"

"If you were any younger I would've smacked you on your head by now. Ofcourse we sleep! We're not vampires! And no, she doesn't visit my dreams, that snobby little lady not even showing herself to me...even once."

"Not like you visited her when she was still alive!" Maricela burst out laughing.

"To my defense, I absolutely have no idea how time works outside Biringan. I didn't bother finding out before losing her." Maliksi softly answered.

"Atleast you're learning now. How's your Kuya Makisig? Still busy with his tamawo duties?"

"Yeah, as always."

"If you both didn't tell me everything about tamawos or explained how you guys' relationship with the humans work, I would've stayed there. I was crushing hard on your Kuya when I was younger." Maricela giggled.

"Well, you're a widow now want me to get Kuya to-"

Maricela, even being that old was still strong enough to playfully bonk Maliksi on his head. "Oh shush! Have some respect to your elders, how can you pimp me like I'm some kind of sugar baby wannabe."

Maliksi clutched his stomach from laughing too hard. "C'mon. I'm technically older than you by a lot!"

"You have a point. You should visit here next week. My grandchildren will be throwing a little party since this is the first time they'll be going home here in the province in a very long time. We'll have a lot of sweets and kakanin for sure."

"Next week huh? Seven human days, sure...I'll set that in my calendar so I won't miss it."

Maricela's laughter filled the air as her younger grandchildren pushed her wheelchair around the yard. Most of Maricela's family stayed at the city and rarely visited the province. The kids are absolutely enjoying it, having a chance to play in the sun and have fun on an open yard for the first time.

Maliksi quietly watched as he picks up a plate, ignoring the other savory dishes and going straight to the dessert section. The family members just thought of Maliksi as anak ng kapitbahay who looks after their Lola Maricela whenever he's free so he is treated warmly, oftentimes greeted by everyone who passes by his table.

Maliksi was spooning some lecheflan right out from the llanera when a shy boy approached his table and placed a platter of kutsinta right infront of him.

"My ate told me to give this to you." The boy shyly said before running away to join his cousins.

He tilted his head, eyes scanning the plate of steamed rice cake in front of him.

Amor still makes the best one.

Kutsinta is still his favorite, no doubt about that, yet he couldn't get himself to eat it after learning about Amor's passing, knowing nothing can top her kutsinta- it's the best he's ever tried even after being alive for centuries afterall.

Maliksi looked around, knowing that the kakanin might be prepared by one of Maricela's relatives, or worse, by one of her grandkids. Not wanting to be rude towards the one who made it, Maliksi slowly picked up a piece, inching it closer to his mouth before taking a bite.

His eyes widen as he quickly stood up from his seat, Maricela and her family were surprised at his suddenness, all eyes staring at him in bewilderment.

"Is everything okay, ijo?" one of the aunties asked Maliksi.

He quickly realized his actions, clearing his throat to gain composure and sitting back down calmly. "I- Sorry, it's just..the kutsinta is...good. Who made it?"

"Oh, must be Y/n. Lola Maricela's granddaughter who just graduated college. She loved cooking."

Maliksi heard a soft chuckle from behind him. He slowly turned around to see who it's coming from.

"Tastes like the best kutsinta ever, huh?" You stood infront of him, giving him a smug smile.

"You look like a kutsinta type of guy so I asked my lil bro to give you some. You like it?"

Maliksi stood frozen in place, his mind wandering to places. It is indeed the best kutsinta. Hell, it tastes like Amor's. He cannot forget that taste even after so many years.

The nostalgia brought by that single bite alone is enough to take him back to that time when Amor would make kutsinta and place it somewhere he'll find since he's too prideful before to accept anything from humans. He won't be able to resist it and just tell himself that Amor didn't give it to him- he 'sneakily' stole it from the human girl and enjoyed every last bits of it.

"I might not remember him, but my heart and soul will know him once we meet again."

"You...made this?"

You nodded. "Yeah, aside from the kutsinta itself, the secret actually lies on-"

"On the yema that is spread lightly on the top of the kutsinta before it's sprinkled with grated coconut." Maliksi finished your sentence which made you chuckle a little bit.

"How did you know that? Not everyone does that."

"A...friend of mine made it like that." Maliksi softly answered.

[skaruresonic]

Being a Cream fan is suffering. The writers aren't hiding that they don't like her. Hello Advanced 2 anyone???

I can imagine.

She's milked for both humor and angst. In most cases, the fact that it's Cream specifically who is suffering/the butt of the joke is the intended takeaway behind the humor or angst.

People try to rationalize such moments as "she's just a child," forgetting that Cream is also her own person and has a personality beyond the expected behavior of children her age. Shunting her into the box of Child(tm) and leaving it at that is like reducing Amy to Girl(tm). Or Shadow to his Black Arms blood. You're not wrong to say those elements factor in, per se, but you are being overreductive by focusing only on those isolated elements of their characters when they're not overall terribly important.

Apologies for the self-indulgence here, but before we proceed to talk about IDW 66 and 67's B-side story, I'd like to bring up Cream's chapter in my visual novel as a counterexample:

In a nutshell: OaS is a slice-of-life where Sonic goes about a normal Sunday, visiting his friends and helping them through their problems, alongside some funny shenanigans. He spends about half the game spending time with Knuckles, Amy, and Cream, respectively.

Chapter three sees his relationship with Cream evolve from friends to Big Bro-Lil Sis(tm) as he endeavors to look out for her the best he can and listen to her little kid problems. Math is hard. :<

You'll notice in the conversation Sonic and Cream have after they sit down to eat their carnival food - about halfway through the video - that "lol Cream's just a dumb kid" is the exact attitude I was trying to avoid.

On the contrary: I wanted to respect her agency while also emphasizing that her status as a child is something worth respect on its own. Just because her problems may seem trivial from an adult perspective don't mean they aren't real to her, and I hope I've portrayed it so that Sonic gives her the respect she deserves.

The gist behind the chapter's more humorous moments isn't to point and laugh at Cream, but rather make light of the awkwardness of Sonic navigating being a big brother figure.

That's why stuff like Cream spouting waterfalls really rubs me the wrong way. Folks will argue "she's a child" while neglecting the important nuance that it's not typical of Cream to wail like a toddler in the games... As well as the other important nuance that if it had been Games!Cream in IDW!Cream's place, Rough and Tumble would be ground into paste before the roast finished.

The only punchline here is "Isn't it funny how Cream tried so hard to do right by her mother and some bully destroyed her work in an instant? LOL and then Vanilla went mama bear on them." When you drill down to the core of the underlying idea, you'll find it's just... meanspirited. The book is making fun of the fact that Cream is suffering what is, in her eyes, a humiliating failure.

It's not humor generated by Cream's personality, or the mood whiplash incurred by beating up bad guys one moment and tending to the roast the next, or inviting the bad guys to dinner after giving them a thorough ass-whooping, or anything like that.

How much better would it have been if, instead, following the food fight, we cut to Vanilla returning home to find an immaculate dinner table and two very twitchy skunk boys playing maid in fear of the goddess of destruction's wrath? Cream cheerily greets her mother while Rough and Tumble trip over themselves putting Vanilla's groceries away. Meanwhile Cheese and Chocola give them the evil eye. Vanilla is confused as G-merl pulls out her chair for her, but in no position to protest.

Imagine how amusing that could have been! Nope. The book has to point and laugh at Cream in a "ha ha bitch you thought" kind of way. Can't join in on the laugh track if we have any love for Cream ourselves.

To borrow the stans' logic, it's actually pretty fucked-up that you're meant to laugh at a child for crying in such a situation. At best, you're made to feel sorry for her, but given how the scene is framed to be absurd, it's probably a safer bet to say you're intended to laugh.

That's before we remember Cream doesn't sob buckets in the games. It took being kidnapped, taken to Eggman's creepy robot depot and watching Emerl gleefully tear Phi robots apart for her to sniffle quietly.

Sniffle. Not wail like a toddler. Because the games have this thing called "a sense of decorum," you see. xP

People contend that Cream's a pacifist based on her refusal to engage in Battle until Emerl gets hurt (and then they conveniently ignore how she stepped up and kicked some ass; rip), which overlooks the context that she was probably sick of fighting after having been forced to spar against Emerl and Amy to the point of exhaustion.

---

P.S. IDW!Vanilla wishes she was half as scary as OaS!Vanilla. Yeah, I said it xP

[shrodie]

A TALK WITH “SHEZOW” CREATOR OBIE SCOTT WADE

POSTED BY KYLE ANDERSON ON JUNE 3, 2013

On Friday, we told you about the new Hub Network cartoon series, SheZow, about the exploits of a boy who leads a double life as a superhero. A lady super hero. The creator of this unique children’s show is Obie Scott Wade, who was kind enough to answer some of our questions about the show’s inception, its place in superhero mythos, and the controversy that’s already brewing over it.

NERDIST: How did you come up with such a unique idea for a TV show, much less one aimed at kids?

OBIE SCOTT WADE: I first had the idea when I was a kid. I grew up loving superheroes, and one day was struck with the question. What would happen if I put on a superhero power ring that was meant for a woman? Would I get her powers? Would I suddenly be dressed in her super clothes? And I assumed the answer was yes. As a kid, I was a huge fan of TV in general and I especially loved Bewitched. From a very young age I dreamed of growing up and creating my own TV show about somebody with a magic secret, and it became SheZow.

N: In the first episode, Guy is actively against girly things; at what point in the idea process did you decide to comment on gender roles in society?

OSW: I didn't decide to comment on gender roles. I just set out to make a comedy. Commenting on gender roles was never my goal. I just wanted to make a TV show that I'd imagined as a kid. I did, however, need Guy to be a rough-and-tumble boy in order for the conflict to be present in the story when he changes into SheZow.

N: What was your pitch like to The Hub and how much of the concept changed from conception to now?

OSW: We originally pitched the series to Ted Biaselli at The Hub. He was our biggest supporter there. Ted's advice was invaluable. The concept never changed throughout the entire production process but the execution and the approach to storytelling did morph over time. And that's a good thing. We stayed fluid during the story development phase and tried new things. Some things worked, some didn't. It really developed as we went along.

N: There's already some controversy brewing over the show; how do you react to some of the fervor around it?

OSW: I would just ask that people actually watch the show before they develop an opinion about it.

N: At some point, will Guy's sister, Kelly, get to be a superhero? Maybe one that's traditionally a dude?

OSW: Good question. I want to say "yes" but you'll just have to wait and see.

N: Do we get to learn about the history of the SheZow persona a bit more? More of Aunt Agnes and her adventures?

OSW: Yes, we do. There is a time travel episode in which Guy meets some of the SheZows past including 1920's Flapper SheZow, Wild West SheZow and the original SheZow whose name is She-anderthal.

A hero needs good villains, so who are some of SheZow's rogue's gallery people can look forward to seeing? I think we have a great group of comedic villains like Candy Rapper, a rapping candy bar, and Mocktopus, a silly sea monster with a tendency to mock people. But one of my favorites is Tattoozala. He's the world's oldest tattooed villain, who possesses the power to bring to life the creatures tattooed on his body. By uttering the phrase "Inkubate" he summons these monsters and they attack SheZow.

N: What do you hope audiences, and maybe specifically young male audiences, get out of watching the show?

OSW: Laughter. The best times in life are those filled with laughter. SheZow's just a comedy that's finding its place in the superhero universe, and I'm happy to learn that it's appealing to both boys and girls.

SheZow airs Saturdays at 12:30pm ET/9:30am PT on Hub.

https://archive.nerdist.com/interview-with-shezow-creator-obie-scott-wade/

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 5

Episode 1: Henry's Birthday

~Henry's house~

Oh, it was going to be a glorious day. Not because the weather was nice, although it was bright and sunny outside. It wasn't something that everyone in the city was waking up early for either, rather, for most people, that Sunday was just another regular day during a regular weekend, nothing particularly interesting at all.

Except for Henry, or as he was known for today and for today only (until next year, that is), he had the title of being the birthday boy. Yep, that's right, the tall kid had finally made it to the big one-seven. That awkward age between sixteen and eighteen, when you're not quite an adult yet but you still try to push it--he had just turned seventeen. Three cheers!

This was gonna be a good birthday, he just felt it in his bones from the moment he woke up because this year, he was gonna celebrate with all of his family. And they'd been dropping him some not-so-subtle hints that his presents this time around were gonna be epic, so he really couldn't get out of bed fast enough, or scurry down the hall quick enough.

"Hey! Happy, my birthday! Happy, my birthday!" Henry exclaimed as he appeared at the top of the stairs with the pointy birthday hat on his head that had been ready since the night before. There was his mom and Piper, doing some DIY stuff that was no doubt for his party or just his birthday in general because today was Henry's day and nothing bad could happen.

"Watch out!" Or maybe it could. His mom's warning came a little too late for the boy as he trotted down the stairs, not realising that one of the wooden slats that made up one of the steps was missing. His foot went in the hole and he tripped, painfully. Ouch, he rolled to the stairwell, which wasn't very far down, thank god, but still. Not a good way to start the day.

"I think the stairs are broken." He groaned as he recovered quickly, although nothing could stop the ache in his gut after such a rough tumble. Perhaps the party hat wasn't such a good idea.

"Yeah, dad broke it while chasing a raccoon down the stairs," Piper explained, not showing much enthusiasm but then again, when did she? She'd already been roped into helping her mom with the repair, in her eyes, there wasn't much point in getting overexcited just because her dumb brother had fallen, no matter if it was his birthday.

"A raccoon?" Well, this was Henry's dad they were talking about. If anyone could lure a small, furry trash panda into the house then it would be him. The wackier, the better, usually.

"Oh, don't worry. He trapped it in the fridge." Mrs Hart added as she continued to paste heavy-duty glue onto the back of his wooden slab, the one that would replace the one that had broken on the stairs. Well, what a relief, thank god that animal wasn't prowling the house, looking for its next victim, but what a shame the stairs weren't so damn safe.

"The fridge?"

"Don't worry! We unplugged it and drilled some air holes." Mrs Hart continued as some suspicious chirping noises sounded from the kitchen. What did he think? They weren't cruel, well, maybe trapping in there wasn't a success for animal rights but at least it wouldn't die. And anyway, it's not like they could get it out--the thing was fucking vicious and grabbed at anyone who tried to get close to the fridge to let it out into the backyard. 

"Drilled?!"

"Yeah, Animal Control said they'd come get it, but it's Sunday so, it might take a while. They love brunch." The woman explained as she looked at her watch. A while could be hours or fifteen minutes, there was no in-between. So, that raccoon was staying put, for now, no one would dare tackle it.

"Right... So, uh, can I open my presents?" Henry's mind soon turned to something more childish yet understandable. Presents were exciting for anyone and seeing them laid out there on the coffee table just made everything so much more real; there was a bag stuffed full of little things, probably just mini-gifts, y'know, fillers, but then there were some boxes too. 

They looked like they were a bit more colourful and substantial because sometimes, the small things are the best. He wasn't a kid anymore, go one were the days when he asked for a bike or a playset, now, everything was ten times smaller yet ten times more expensive. 

"Noooo! Not until your dad gets home!" Oh, there was always one to spoil the fun. Henry pouted at his mom, who merely ignored it because she was firm on this. There was some good stuff amongst those presents and she wanted her husband to be there when her son got all happy and stuff.

"Oh, come on!" One little prezzy couldn't hurt, right? Perhaps just tearing the paper corner off one so he could guess what it was.

"No, birthdays are a family celebration. We celebrate together or not at all." Mrs Hart stated firmly and Henry gave up trying. Well, when she put it like that, it sounded like he'd been conscripted or something and he'd hate to disappoint his dad, even if those presents were tempting.

"Okay, all right, fine, but where is he? When is he coming back?" Didn't mean he couldn't speed it up a bit, though. He hadn't seen his dad all morning, so he had to assume that he'd left the house for one reason or another and it was likely that it was birthday related. How exciting.

"Uh, he's picking up your cake and getting tested for rabies." Okay, one, he had a cake, that was good, he liked cake but second, rabies? Seriously? Trust his dad to contract a deadly virus on his birthday and from a damn raccoon that was now in their fridge. Well, that made things a bit more depressing.

"Hey, hey! Happy, your birthday, Henry!" And things just got better. It was Jasper and Charlotte, both of them ready to hand over their presents and celebrate the birthday of their best friend, and one was more excited than the other. Oh, Jasper..."Open my present, all right?!"

"Watch out," Henry told him as Jasper went for a chest pass, not realising that Piper was walking about the place, her nose buried in her phone as usual. The warning came too late, the box collided with her head and the girl screamed as she hit the floor with a lump on her forehead.

"Jasper!" Well, at least he didn't mean it. Everyone knew that Jasper wouldn't hurt a fly, he was too good-natured for that.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna set this down like a normal person," Charlotte said and dropped the beautifully wrapped box she'd brought onto the coffee table, that way, no one would be injured. Ooooh, the present pile was getting bigger and bigger, so Henry couldn't help but feel a flutter in his tummy at the thought of everyone buying him cool stuff.

"Hey, I'm normal. I'm just like everybody--do I smell raccoon?" Jasper's argument died on the spot when he proved that he was far from normal. Come on, how many people can say they can identify the presence of an animal just by catching a faint whiff of its musk or whatever? That was weird, especially how accurate he was.

"Mmm-hmm, you do."

"Airholes."

"In the fridge." The Harts replied, nodding casually like having an animal held hostage in their refrigerator was fine, a regular thing for them. Honestly, that was old news now and as long as it stayed in there and no one got too close, they were gonna be okay and Henry's birthday was gonna go without a hitch.

"Wait, for real? There's a raccoon in the refrigerator?" For Charlotte, however, this was new and peculiar because she'd just walked into this madhouse. There was never a dull day for the Harts but a raccoon? In the fridge? That was a bit outlandish even for them.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Yes...it's on the left side." Yeah, Jasper was a freak, but a freak with a highly sensitive sense of smell. He sounded so sure of himself and the statement was so odd that Charlotte just had to check it out for herself, so that's what she did. And whilst she went to go see if Jasper was correct about the trash panda being in a particular spot, there was a triumphant return. The man who tackled the beast was back.

"I've got the cake and I haven't got rabies!" Mr Hart announced as he came through the door, a tall cake box in his hands, which made Henry's grin grow wide. Oh, yeah, the rabies thing was great, but the cake was even better because it came from the best patisserie in town.

"Ayyyyy!"

"Congratulations.

"Oh my god, cake!

"Wow, dad, that racoon really got you good," Henry stated as his father came into the house to the joyous shouts of his family. Jeez, no wonder he needed to be checked out, his face and arms were covered in tiny scratches, which probably stung a lot worse than they looked. That raccoon didn't like him by the looks of things.

"Haha, oh, these? No, these scratches aren't from the raccoon." Or not. That was confusing, if the raccoon didn't beat up his face, then what did? A squirrel? A chipmunk? A particularly pissed-off pigeon?"

"Well, what are they from?" Piper asked the question that everyone was thinking. 

"The angry mob at the Mexican cake store." Right, people did that, understandable. Some people were animals, especially when they wanted something because, y'know, humans are naturally selfish and self-preserving. They don't give a shit about anyone else if they want something for themselves, no matter what their morals, instinct comes first.

"Uno, Dos, Cakes?" Henry asked, knowing the store in question well since it was amazing. The things they did in there shouldn't have been legal because oh my god, the cakes were to die for. So damn good that everyone wanted them, hence Mr Hart's wounds--so good that people wanted to draw blood.

"Correctamundo! I had to fight a bunch of people to get the very last Diez Leches ice cream cake." Jake said proudly, looking at the box like it was his prize, and it sort of was. The caveman had returned with good meat to feed family, grunt, and judging by their mystified expressions by the number of leches he'd scored, man done good.

"Diez leches?"

"Ten leches? In one cake?" Mrs Hart and her daughter couldn't believe it because normally, you'd get three leches in a cake, that was the usual recipe, so having ten seemed like a privilege. How had their dumb father, the guy who couldn't do anything, managed it?

"That's so many leches!" Henry exclaimed, loving how it was all for his birthday. Hey, did that mean he got to have more than one slice? Of course, it did, he was the birthday boy, that was his cake, sure as hell was he gonna have second helpings of el pastel de Diez leches. 

"Oh, honey, hurry up, take it out of the box!" Mrs Hart cheered excitedly and she wasn't the only one eager to see this god-tier cake. Without further ado and with his family and Jasper shaking, he slowly lifted the lifted, causing the sides to drop to reveal the symbol printed inside and the tastiest, the most beautiful cake they'd ever seen. Ten layers, ice cream between each, sprinkles, icing and cream all combined with so many different kinds of milk that they just had to slice it that very second.

"All right, all right, all right, let's stop ad-libbing excitement and eat this cake before it melts." Henry quietened their merged ramblings because the longer they expressed how much they wanted to eat it, the less delicious the cake would be. Right now, it was firm and cool but soon it would just be a room-temperature mushy mess and that's not what he wanted; eating a perfect cake sounded much better.

"I'll get the candle!" Mrs Hart exclaimed as she rushed to the kitchen, everyone following but much more slowly since they had to get the cake safely to the counter without dropping it--a disaster for sure.  And in the kitchen was Charlotte, who in all the time their tummies had been grumbling, had been curiously peering through one of the drill holes to see if she could catch a glimpse of the raccoon in the fridge.

"Wait a second, there's not actually a raccoon in the refridge--arghhhh!" Oh, dear. She should've been more careful; as she turned her back to the fridge and thought it was all safe and just a big hoax, Charlotte yelped when a furry paw reached through the hole and grabbed ahold of her hair, tugging her to the metal with an iron grip and a surprising amount of strength for something so small. Well, Jasper was right, the raccoon was real. "It's got my hair!"

"Charlotte, stop teasing that raccoon!" Mrs Hart said in a playful tone. Like everyone around her, she hadn't bothered to see what was happening because the cake was too important, so to her, the screams of the girl and the rustling of her being thumped against the fridge meant that she was teasing the animal, not being hurt by it. And that was so damn frustrating for the girl because she was in severe pain, hardly likely to want to play with the feral thing.

Argh, let go, you little trash panda!" She yelled and with a fierce tug, she managed to yank her hair away from the raccoon, losing only a few strands in the process. Jeez, that had taught her a lesson--never go near a cranky raccoon trapped in a fridge. Still, at least it was cake time, that would take her mind off of her sore scalp.

"Now, come on. We're gonna sing happy birthday to Henry." And Mrs Hart was so snappy, she didn't have any choice but to comply. The candle was lit, Mr Hart had his phone ready for the video, everyone was here, who was she to stop that?

"Okay, time to sing to the birthday boy! Right after I figure which one of these little squares is my camera." 

"Oh my god, give it!" Piper snapped as her fossil of father squinted at his old PearPhone. Come on, that thing was a fossil in itself, one of the oldest phones that were still supported by the Pear Company and even though he'd had it for years and the app was a very simple one, Jake had no idea how to use it. So, Piper took it upon herself to find the camera since it was much easier than waiting for him to find it in five hours. And that's when Henry's watch started to flash and beep. Typical.

"Okay, all set! Turns out it was an application called Camera." The man smiled as Henry shiftily looked from Charlotte to Jasper when his watch wouldn't shut up. God, Ray or (y/n) really picked their moments and as much as he wanted to continue with his family, he had to see what was wrong. "Action!"

"Happy birthday to--"

"Uh, sorry, hold on, hold on." He stopped them as the watch kept going, suddenly seeming louder now that no one was talking. He had no idea how he was gonna talk himself out of this one but hopefully, his friends would help because they knew that their boss only rang with emergencies, well, sometimes he rang for emergencies. This could be something important that dragged him away from his party, but his parents and sister would never believe that.

"Hold on for what?" Piper asked, her eyes flickering to the device on his wrist, which now that she thought about it, never seemed to be silent these days. Henry always said it was for work but come on, she'd been to that store, nothing much ever happened there and it was always a surprise that it stayed open with the tiny amount of customers they had. What did he do that meant he had to be there all the time?

"Uhhhh..."

"Where are you going?" Mrs Hart questioned, seeing her son slowly backing away towards the front door and away from them. Well, that was suspicious and she didn't know what to think; the cake was melting by the second and the candle was busy burning towards its end, so why did he need to leave all of a sudden?

"Uh, where am I going?... I have always wanted a surprise party, so, uh, I'm gonna go outside for a while and then, I'm gonna come back inside and uh, then, you guys are gonna yell, surprise. Okay?" It was a shit excuse but it was his excuse and he was sticking to it. The door handle was touching his fingertips, escape was so close and he knew that Charlotte and Jasper would support his lie and make it believable whilst he was seeing what Ray wanted. 

"Oooh, good idea! I've got a great place to hide!" Mr Hart grinned. It was never difficult tricking him and Henry breathed a sigh of relief as he made it onto the porch with no tricky questions asked. Now, it was just a case of flicking the watch open and talking to the little hologram of his boss, so he could get back to his cake.

"Henry! There's blood everywhere!" Ray exclaimed dramatically the moment the kid picked up his call. Seriously, he'd been waiting for ages, so long that his sweet girl had wandered off momentarily whilst he stuck with the holo-caller. With her gone, he had to find his fun somewhere, so he started by making his sidekick panic--a suitable punishment for making him wait for so long.

"Oh my god, what?!" And cue the panicking. Classic.

"At the blood bank! Ha, gotcha!" Ray smiled as Henry screwed his face up from the annoyance of being pranked by his dumb boss. He walked into that one honestly, it was expected by now, especially when (y/n) was off somewhere else, set to return the moment she overheard their conversation.

"The blood bank?" Henry stuttered, wondering what the hell he was on about because so far, his boss had been as weird as ever. He knew what one was, he just failed to see the relevance since he had a cake waiting for him in there.

"Yeah, you know, where they store blood for people who need surgery and medical assistance and other things that I'll never need because I'm Captain Man... I'm indestructible." Ray bragged with a smirk on his face, hands on his hips from how he had an edge of superiority over everyone else in society. He needed no one, never had done, he would survive anything that came at him because he was tough and invulnerable, those things didn't apply to him.

"Be that as it may, Raymond, blood banks are very important to other people who aren't dense like you. Donated blood saves a lot of lives." (y/n) came up behind him with a gentle voice that soon melted Ray's smirk into a smile when her arms wrapped around his middle and she buried her face into his back. Right, Captain Man did need someone, the one person he couldn't live without and indestructibility or not, losing her would damn near kill him. He needed his sweet girl, his (y/n).

"So, about the blood bank?" Henry asked, breaking up their little lovefest, even if he silently admitted that the way his boss became all soft and loving for her was unbelievably cute. He was more concerned about why they felt the need to bring such a random place up, not how Ray beamed down at his fiancée and kept her arm around his waist as she came to stand beside him with the same lovesick expression she always had when he was in the room.

"Right! Yes, it's being robbed and we gotta go stop it." Ray quickly refocused on the task-at-hand, although it was near impossible having to tear his eyes away from the pretty little thing that pressed her small form against his. Her hand trailed across his chest and the ring still sat on her finger so perfectly, waiting for the day when a wedding band would join it--soon, they kept saying.

"Mmmmmm..." Henry was torn. On one hand, he had a job but on the other, it was his birthday and his family was there and waiting to celebrate with him. Surely, he was allowed a day off on his birthday, right?

"I don't like the sound of that, mmmm, Henry, so stop it," Ray replied, disheartened by his sidekick's unenthusiastic response. Normally, the kid loved to go out and kick ass, so he couldn't understand why he wasn't popping a gumball that very second.

"Uhhh, it's just, uhhh, it's my birthday, you remember? Right, (y/n/n)? You never normally forget..." Henry said awkwardly because he didn't want to fish for birthday wishes but they were supposed to be two of his closest friends. 

He'd dropped a few hints here and there, saying he had a craving for a birthday cake or that he was looking forwards to what his family were buying him, that kind of thing. And truthfully, he thought he wouldn't need it, considering that (y/n) usually had every date and detail down for everyone's birthday--she prided herself on giving great gifts to her best friends, so the fact that she hadn't remembered stung quite a bit.

"I know and my record's still going strong, so don't look so sad, kid," the woman grinned as she stepped off-camera for just a second with a mischievous glint in her eye, one that caused Ray to smile too as he saw her grab the frankly enormous gift bag full to the brim with presents. His sweet girl never forgot, not when it came to Henry, "happy birthday, Henry!"

"Oh my god, no way, that's--oh my god!" The boy found himself flabbergasted at the sight of the bag, which she'd pulled into shot so he could see them. How could have ever doubted her? His present pile just kept getting bigger and bigger since they'd bought so many, well, (y/n) will have bought them but it was a joint gesture from the couple.

"Not forgotten a birthday yet and I don't plan on doing so anytime soon." She smiled when Ray dropped his head to kiss her forehead, feeling so damn smitten at how she was just so sweet. By far this sweetest girl he'd ever met--that's why he'd given her the name and why he was hellbent on making her his wife.

"Uh, anyway, we're about to start a birthday party so can I take the day off?" Henry asked, remembering what he needed to say. It wasn't a big thing, just a small request and in all the years he'd been his sidekick, the boy had only ever asked Ray for time off a handful of times. He'd worked other birthdays so for once, he wanted this one to be special and for them to understand that.

"Oh, yeah, sure, no prob--"

"Crime doesn't take birthdays off, Henry. Neither do superheroes and their sidekicks." (y/n) was all for it, Henry could spend the day with his family, no problem in her eyes. Ray, however, was quite...picky. He liked having both of his sidekicks around, he liked the familiarity and routine, so he wasn't too keen on working without the boy, it felt like leaving someone behind.

"You took four days off a month ago to ride every rollercoaster in Texas and you took (y/n) with you," Henry argued, using air quotes and everything because he was getting massive amounts of hypocrisy from the man. He went on vacation and mini-breaks with his fiancée all the time with the excuse that they needed it and whilst Henry didn't want to know what they got up to on those breaks, the point was that Ray wasn't being very fair.

"It was five and none of those were my birthday. I wanted to spend time with my wif--fiancée without Schwoz or you or Jasper getting involved." The hero argued and pulled the girl closer to him so she wouldn't see the faint blush spread across his cheeks when he let slip a small mistake. In his head, she was his wife, in how they lived and loved, she was his wife. All that was missing was the official ceremony and (y/n) felt herself smile at how he already had the same mindset as her. 

"Come on, doofus..." She smiled at her lover, fluttering her eyelashes since she knew that changing his mind wouldn't be easy but she was willing to give it a go. Henry deserved a good birthday and if Ray wouldn't give him one, then she would. They'd had a nice trip that week, they'd ridden every rollercoaster in the state, eaten way too much candy floss and broke the bed in the hotel, the hallmark of a damn good break, so why couldn't they give the kid the same?

"Uh, y'know, someone else is celebrating their birthday today. Her name is crime and she's having her party at the blood bank right now. You, (y/n) and I are all invited and it's byo-fist, so we'll see you there." Ray stated firmly, not giving Henry much of a choice since he'd sneaked both his and (y/n)'s gum out from their pockets. He shoved the woman's tube into her hand as he necked a gumball himself and (y/n) gave Henry a sympathetic glance as the kid hung up. 

Stupid boss, stupid immaturity, stupid blood bank. It looks like he had no choice and with a quick text to Charlotte telling her that duty called, he started chewing. Blood Bank, here he came.

~Always B Positive Blood Bank~

Henry was in a foul mood. That's it, there was no other way to describe the way he sulked as the heroes stormed into the blood bank. And for good reason; there he was, walking through the wards and locker rooms where endless bags of blood were stored until some poor so-and-so needed a transfusion. He couldn't imagine why anyone would want to rob one, so why Captain Man needed him and Miss Danger for such a simple mission was beyond him.

Anyway, stealth mode activated. (y/n) figured that a weirdo who attacked a blood bank had to be crazy, nuts, out of their mind, batshit crazy, and since Ray had started listening to her tummy ever since the flabber gas incident, they'd decided to go in sneakily. They crawled into an air vent and made their way towards the room where the terrified staff told them the nutjob was smashing stuff. Then, it was just a matter of dropping down, which was where their climbing ropes came in.

"Why won't you open?!---aw, man. That was my last hammer." They could hear a distorted voice below them as well as a load of crashing noises, like metal being crumpled or bashed. Right, they needed to get down there, this guy sounded like a real piece of work, so they let the ropes fall and clipped their belts to them.

Like a scene from The A-Team, Captain Man, Miss Danger and Kid Danger floated down, suspended from nothing but an air-conditioning unit and they had to admit, it was one of their coolest entrances. However, it was about to be spoiled because now that they were there, it wasn't a particularly impressive crime or a particularly dastardly criminal. 

"Hold it right there!"

"Yeah, freeze!"

"Don't move, dirtbag! This is a--oh, god!" Their insults died and morphed into groans of burning irritation when the criminal, surrounded by multiple ruined sledgehammers, turned around to show them his face. His very stupid face. It was Jeff. Of course, it was Jeff, who else would try to rob a blood bank? It was just so fucking annoying because they'd come over expecting to find a supervillain, but no. 

"Come on!" Henry yelled, feeling his anger spike since he'd left his own birthday party for this loser. He really should've stayed at home because any idiot could take down Jeff, with their eyes closed, probably.

"Gahhh, it's Jeff!" 

"Yes, doofus, we see that." (y/n) replied dryly, resting her flat palm against his bicep to try and calm him down a bit, but she understood the frustration. She hated this guy; firstly, it was always like talking to a brick wall with him, getting him to jail was near impossible because he was too dumb to understand what was happening. 

Secondly, he always got released for no good reason and then he just returned to his old ways of petty crime that they had to deal with--the worst kind of callout. They stopped what they were doing and were diverted away from real emergencies to deal with him and it was always so irritating because what if someone genuinely needed their help?

And thirdly, the one that irritated her and Ray the most, he always flirted with her. No matter if she was herself or Miss Danger, he always tried it on and it was just so unwanted because he never stood a chance, not with the competition he was up against.

"Gah, he's so stupid!"

"We know that!" Henry added, feeling the same way but he stomped down the urge to kick the guy in the teeth. They had to remain professional and just cart him off to jail, with no fuss, no need to get stressed. Just a simple process that they'd gone through hundreds of times before.

"Uh, you guys got a spare hammer? Sledge if possible, although from you pretty lady, I'd take anything." Jeff's body language turned flirty when his eyes crossed two superheroes and then got to one very lovely superheroine. Dear lord, he was so very thirsty and he wanted a tall glass of Miss Danger to quench that thirst, not that Captain Man would ever share. Or use that metaphor to describe his sweet girl because she was a person, not a piece of meat to be leered over.

"Why--why would we have a hammer?" (y/n) asked, biting her lip in irritation at how he jutted out his hip and gave her a stupid look like he was trying to be sexy. Yeah, he failed miserably, she turned to her doofus instead, watching as his jaw clenched and his muscles tensed.

"And if we had a hammer, why would we give it to you, Jeff?" Henry added, highlighting the man's stupidity even more. Oh yeah, they'd help the enemy ruin the life-saving liquid stored in the refrigerators here, that's the kind of justice they liked. Stupid Jeff...

"And why would you try to rob a blood bank?" Ray growled, curling a protective arm around his sweet girl as Jeff smiled like a real dope at his fiancée. The nerve of this guy, did he never learn? It was frustrating enough to deal with his flirtations when he was just the protective best friend, doomed to cope with it through the lie that he was just concerned for his friend, definitely not in love with her. But now that everything was out in the open and she knew about his undying love with both of them ready to make the ultimate commitment, it still didn't get any better.

"Banks have money! Look at the size of this safe here!" Jeff exclaimed, gesturing his broken hammer stick to the fridges that he'd been trying to smash his way into. Oh, it was painful just how dumb he was; seriously, Ray was annoyed but never threatened by this guy, even his stupidest idea paled in comparison to Jeff and he was certain that his sweet girl would ever give him the time of day--it would be quite an insult to her if he did think that.

"Jeff, that's a refrigerator!"

"And it opens....by pulling the lever!" Henry demonstrated by yanking open the fridge door to show the racks of blood bags as (y/n) leaned back into Ray, well aware that he wasn't happy with how Jeff saw her. She was used to it at this point, it just washed over her with only a mild irritation left behind because he was just a big dumb blob, whilst she was happily in love with a big dumb hunk, also known as an adorable doofus.

"But the sign, it says bank and--a-and banks, they--they have money--" Jeff stuttered as even he realised how stupid he'd been. This had to be one of his biggest fuck ups; not only had he failed, but he'd also gotten himself into trouble for nothing. There was no money for him to steal, how embarrassing.

"Hey, dude! Not today, Jeff! I can't do it, I can't do it! Not today!" It was like a switch flipped in Henry as his fingers grazed his laser remote and before he knew what he was doing, he was zapping Jeff over and over. Goddamnit, he'd left his birthday party for this shit, his cake with its ten leches was melting because Jeff was so stupid. It made him snap.

"Hey, hey, hey, kid! Calm down!" (y/n) grabbed hold of the boy's arm before he became too destructive. Jeff was a knucklehead, everyone knew that, but he didn't deserve to be zapped in the butt over and over again until he slept forever and Henry was just stressed because of his birthday troubles, nothing more.

"I can't deal with this! I can't deal with it, man!"

"Hey, it's all right. Just...take a breather, 'kay?" (y/n) put one hand on his shoulder as Ray came up beside her and put his hand on the other. He looked so tense, their stressed little bean, and they were there to make keep his cool, no matter how many times he lasered the man. It was natural to be upset, they didn't mind that he had feelings like any normal teenage boy.

"Sorry, guys, it's just...I really wanna be at my birthday party right now." Henry sniffed, feeling the weight of it all bear down on him. His family, his best friends, they were all at his house, having a good time and waiting for him with his cake, his presents, his birthday fun. He wanted to go back.

"Hey, hey...you never have to apologise for zapping Jeff," Ray told him sternly yet there was a playfulness in his eyes that told the kid that he was trying to make him feel better, which was confirmed when Ray grabbed his hand and thus the remote, pointed it at Jeff and zapped him a few more times for good measure. Yeah, that felt good, they needed that.

"Now, go on, get out of here, birthday boy!" Ray added on the end, making his sidekicks look at him with fond smiles. Aw, he could say that he was tough, needed no one and was void of weakness, but in reality, he was a big softie with feelings--good ones, at that. He cared underneath those muscles and floppy, brown hair and Henry could see why (y/n) was so fond of them.

"Really? I can leave?"

"Yeah, yeah, we got this, Kid Danger. Go have fun...I'll bring your presents over later." (y/n) smiled at the boy, shooing him away with the back of her hand as she gave her doofus a quick peck on the cheek for being such a sweetheart before they moved to seize Jeff. It was jail time for him again and they had nothing better to do than take him there.

"Oh, thanks, guys. My dad went to that new Mexican Cake store." Henry mentioned as he went back to his rope and began to buckle up. However, that caught Ray's attention; he'd heard of that store by reputation and what kind of cake sorcery they did there. He couldn't help but perk up as (y/n) continued to work obliviously.

"Uno, Dos Cakes?" She asked without even raising her head. Ray, though, couldn't help but pry.

"Yeah, he got the last Diez Leches ice cream cake," Henry said, bragging just a little bit, but he thought nothing of it. Yeah, it was impressive but it was just a cake at the end of the day, a delicious cake, but just a cake. Nothing to get overexcited about.

"Diez leches?!"

"Uh-huh."

"Diez?!" And someone really should've told Ray that. He became way too interested way too quickly and (y/n) rolled her eyes as he abandoned their task the minute he heard about this cake. He was a foodie at heart, he loved the stuff and Diez leches, that was legendary, how could he resist? Still, the way he grabbed his rope and pretended to be innocent was quite amusing, but she wasn't overly thrilled when she got the feeling that he wanted to do a spot of party-crashing...at Henry's house...uninvited...where she was. 

"That means ten milks en español, doofus." (y/n) mentioned as she came up behind him and put her hand on his back, praying that he wasn't thinking what she thought he was thinking. Worming their way in just for cake was rude, no matter if they brought presents or good wishes, not to mention the fact that it came with the added danger of Ray interacting with...Mrs Hart. 

Was it bad to have a genuine dislike of her now? It wasn't hatred, at least (y/n) didn't want to hate her. She was a nice woman, generally, but ever since she screwed her over because of a damn egg, the heroine couldn't help but find her teeth gritted and her fists clenched whenever she came up in conversation. Her soon-to-be husband still held a torch for her, he found her attractive, and he couldn't let that attraction go. She couldn't help but feel...upset? Threatened? Jealous? Definitely jealous, maybe a mix of all three for the big dumb idiot.

"Ten leches? In one cake?"

"¡Sí!" Henry nodded enthusiastically, still not seeing anything wrong. His smile was bright and wide because he was finally getting a chance to go home and celebrate. He didn't have the foggiest idea about what the man was thinking.

"Well then, why aren't we at your house eating Diez Leches cake right now?!" Ray exclaimed, proving (y/n)'s fears. Great, now she'd have to go there and feel her heart crack when he inevitably started flirting like he didn't even know he was doing it. People don't change--he said that once, and some part of it was true; she would never not be nervous, she would always be a nerd and he would always be a flirt, he would never not be a mom-lover.

"Uh, because, superheroes and their sidekicks don't take days off, remember? You said that." Henry recalled his boss' exact words and how he was the one who'd insisted they come here in the first place. He didn't mind Ray and (y/n) coming to hang, they were part of his family too but god, the man was such an oaf.

"Yeah, but now I want cake, so let's go!" Ray smiled and (y/n) released an inaudible sigh as she grasped her rope again. There was no way out of this, they were going by the sounds of things, so she was just praying that Mrs Hart wasn't her beautiful self today? Hopefully, she'd grown a monobrow, shaved her head and had her makeup done by a five-year-old. Hopefully.

"Up the rope!" 

Okay, are you ready? Let's do it!" The hero cried as they all stood ready to go back up and they jumped on Henry's command but there was a slight problem. The boys couldn't climb a rope to save their lives. Seriously, (y/n) was able to climb the first metre or so, keeping her knees locked together and her arms close to her chest so they didn't go numb too quickly but they couldn't seem to hold their weight upon the thin twine.

"Huh, it's really hard to get back up. Hey, M-D, how are you doin' that?" Henry grunted as he watched the woman shimmy her way up like some sort of monkey or magician. Seriously, how was she able to just yank herself up like that? It seemed to defy the laws of physics but whatever. Where his sweet girl went, Ray followed, even if he did get a few sneaky glances up her skirt from that angle, the red satin of the shorts that hid underneath the flowy fabric. 

"Hey, why don't you give me a boost? Yeah, and then, I'll give you a boost that way." He suggested although he didn't think the plan through, not at all. The climb was gonna be impossible no matter where he started from because he might have had the strength, but his weight wasn't on his side--in a multitude of ways.

"How am I gonna get up?" And Henry had a valid point. He was light but his arms were too skinny to hold himself up, so once Ray tootled off to do whatever he did with his lover, he'd be stuck in the donation room. Honestly, Ray really hadn't thought about this at all.

"I'll give you a boost when I'm with (y--" Ray was cut off as his fingers slipped yet again, meaning he fell to the floor once again as his sweet girl reached the three-quarter mark. So very nearly at the top, she could almost feel the warm, dry air from the ventilation shaft hitting her face and a good thing too--she was pooped, not at all used to climbing with such flimsy material. Aw, her doofus was so cute when she dared to look back down, and she knew that she'd have to assist once she reached her goal.

"No purchase. I gotta get a purchase... Just gotta get a purchase..."

"You know what? I got an idea. All right, what are you doing, dude? What are you doing? That's not doing anything." Henry watched in despair as Ray swung and tugged on the rope as if that was magically gonna lift him from the ground and get him to the ceiling. Jeez, he knew he was desperate to follow his sweet girl but jeez, he was so...needy. Couldn't he see that he was never gonna climb without some sort of help?

"I have no idea how she's doing that, that's impossible..." Ray muttered as he watched his girl ascend another foot, slowly snaking her way up with her body shaking from the effort. God, she looked so hot, perspiration sticking to her forehead and toned muscles on display as they proved their worth after a few years of hard labour in the gym. She was strong, he knew that, maybe not like him but she was definitely fit, and dear god, did he love it. "What did you tie this thing to anyway?"

"Uh, an old air conditioning unit. It's really sturdy. I don't think it's going anywhere..." Henry replied, tugging on his rope harshly to prove that the rust bucket welded to the ceiling had been up there for decades, meaning it certainly wasn't gonna come down any time soon. It's not like the screws were old and worn, it's not like the bearings were holding the weight of a young woman and it's not like it had strained against the weight of all three of them at once when they all jumped on the ropes. Come on, that thing was hanging by a goddamn thread--one tiny scrap of rust.

"Guys, I'm nearly at the to--sweet cheeeeeeese!" (y/n) cried in panic and shock as the final tug on the rope from Henry caused the rack to crack, crumble and grumble as the metal gave way--and she was the first to feel the creak run through her body. Oh god, why couldn't it have waited until she was safely in the shaft?

"Heads up!" Ray yelled, waving his arm wilding for Henry to get clear since it would be particularly nasty if the kid got squished by the thing on his birthday of all day by all two tons of it as it came crashing down. He didn't need telling twice; Henry safely pressed himself against the wall as the air conditioning unit hit the floor and whilst Ray felt the same urge to leg it, he had other priorities. 

Namely that he wasn't the kind of guy to stand by and watch his fiancée hit the floor with a thump, super-regeneration or not. So, being the gent he was, y'know, suave and everything, he caught her in his arms like he was carrying her over the threshold of that house in the country they'd always dreamed of. It was nothing, in those beefy arms, her body was as light as a feather, saving her from bruising and cuts made it so, and he cradled her tiny, trembling form against his massive one as she stayed coiled in a protective ball. 

"Oh my god, you okay, sweet girl? Talk to me, I need to know if you're all right." Ray murmured into her hair as her fingers scraped against his uniform and her rapid breaths curled up the side of his neck. If she'd been hit by anything then he needed to know, super-healing be damned, he'd march her to Schwoz for a full check-up if he had to, but not before her word. So, as she caught her breath for a second, he stayed like that; rocking slowly from side to side with his lips pressed against her forehead like a tattoo kiss.

"Yeah, I-I'm okay, doo--doofus. No need to beat the AC up for trying to kill me." (y/n) joked as her heart slowed down and her breathing returned to normal. She was fine, perhaps slightly shaken up and very, very dusty but fine. Just remind her to never let Henry tie the climbing rope next time and certainly not to an ancient, metal block from the eighties.

"Good." The hero said simply and he let her out of his iron embrace with one last peck to her hairline, satisfied that he'd done his job. She was safe and unharmed, what other job was there? Certainly nothing more important.

"Let's just walk out the door," Henry suggested as he watched the pale couple, knowing that they'd both had quite a scare, even if they were both immune to injury. The real pain came from the other hurting, in every which way, so he figured that to save himself having to watch that wretched scenario of one of them descending into madness, they'd go for the normal, uncool route. Sure, it wasn't very Mission Impossible but at least they could hold hands this way.

"Out the door!" Ray exclaimed, trying to add an element of cool to their exit, even if it was a long stretch. Still, the boy's theory was right, he did get to clutch at his sweet girl's hand this way, he got to guide her out of the blood bank with everyone watching. Sure, he liked the adoring fans, the fame and attention, that stuff was neat, but being able to walk out with her on his arm was so much better.

~Henry's house~

Well, this wasn't nerve-wracking at all. It really shouldn't have been, after all, it's not like (y/n) was going to war or speaking in front of the United Nations or anything, this should've been no big deal. She'd faced monsters, criminals, her worst enemy, her worst fear and yet she still found herself shaking from the nerves as Ray led her up Henry's driveway.

It had been a quick stop at the Man Cave to grab the boy's present, ensuring that he didn't peek since they needed to walk in with something to give to him, and now, they were ready to face whatever was about to come their way--or rather, she was ready. No one else was worried, Henry was walking with a spring in his step at the thought of finally returning to his party and Ray didn't seem to notice the way her palm got clammy against his.

No, they were fine. They weren't the ones who felt threatened in this house. They weren't the ones praying to catch a break because it just wasn't the right day to have to endure the god-awful torture that was Ray flirting with Mrs Hart. 

Seriously, she wasn't in the mood, not after being scared half to death from the fall; (y/n) just wanted some cake, wanted to see Henry open his presents, celebrate and have a nice, civil afternoon. It wasn't a big ask, not in her eyes, if Kris could not be her charming self and if Ray could not be his charming self then they wouldn't have a problem and that ugly green-eyed monster inside her wouldn't threaten to creep out in a punch to the face or the separation of balls from the body.

Okay, okay, brave face, (y/l/n). Remember who wears the engagement ring on her finger.

"Hey! I'm home!"

"Aw, come on!" Okay...not the welcome Henry was expecting when he opened the door, tailed by his boss and (y/n), who'd been remarkably quiet to say that Ray kept making joke after joke to make her laugh. Oh well, falling with an AC unit would do that to you. What he preferred to focus on was how his dad seemed to be distraught at his return, which was odd because his presence meant cake. Had they missed something?

"What's everybody doing?"

"Surprise!" Huh? Seriously, what had they missed? The kid had no idea what this surprise was as Ray held the door open for his sweet girl before shutting it behind himself once they were both in the house--home of the serpent--home of the very nice lady, who didn't deserve to be cut down because of her bitter heart. Put it behind you, (y/l/n).

"Uh, I brought my boss, Ray, and his fiancée, (y/n)." Henry moved on swiftly, wanting to get the couple introduced quickly so they could crack on with the festivities and it took no time at all for Ray to make himself at home. Whilst (y/n) was okay with just a general greeting to the entire room, as her opposite, he took the time to look at everyone. Everyone...

"Hey, guys..."

"Hey. Hey. Hi. How's it going?" He nodded at Mr Hart, Jasper, Charlotte, Piper, spared them a glance for politeness' sake before his gaze met Mrs Hart's...and did (y/n) dare say it softened? Oh god, would it have been better to stay in the Man Cave and imagine what was going down between them or actually see it in person? What was worse? 

"Ah, jeez..." She sighed, throwing her jacket over the hatstand and looked over at the teens scattered around the room, two of whom gave her sympathetic smiles as Henry immediately intervened. Did the man never learn? It wasn't exactly harmless; harmless implied that it didn't leave any damage, it implied that no one cared about what was said and what festered after it was all over. But (y/n) cared, she cared quite a bit, not because she thought he'd run off and leave her to nurse a broken heart, no, she knew that his flirting worked on any woman and left a connection. After all, that's how it worked on her.

"Okay..." The kid muttered, stepping forward to casually yet oh, so obviously put himself between his mother and boss, who just so happened to gravitate towards each other like their individual charismatic personalities were magnetic. 

And (y/n) was grateful for that, endlessly so, and wavered awkwardly by the door with her eyes scanning the floorboards as Henry glared at Ray with cutting eyes. He knew that he thought it was just a bit of flirting, that it was just his way of dealing with women but that was his mother and that woman by the door was his friend. He owed it to them to stop him before he made things worse for himself, his relationship, his entire damn life.

"So, where's that cake, huh? Let's it that cake!" Ray exclaimed and rubbed his hands together, slightly taken aback by the boy's murderous look and he recoiled as he sort of got the message. Maybe not entirely, but he did get a message to stop whatever he was doing, so he switched subjects and beamed a boyish grin towards his sweet girl as she tiptoed over from the door. He doesn't even know he's doing it, (y/l/n). Let it go, it's fine. If need be, we can kill him later.

"Cake, yeah, brother!" Piper replied happily, glad that someone was on her side after waiting for ages for her brother to get back from wherever Charlotte and Jasper had said he was going--some bullshit lied made up on the spot after too many questions. She was just a kid, she didn't see the flirting but honestly, the progression was nice. (y/n) didn't want to hover, not when Ray enthusiastically wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Henry, how was the makeup store?" Mrs Hart smiled at her son, who just returned her politeness with a blank expression. What was she on about? Why would he go to a makeup store? He didn't need makeup or like to wear it...had he missed something here?

"Huh, makeup store? What are you talking about?"

"Uhhhhh, you went to the makeup store, remember? You sent us that text about makeup excuse..." charlotte was quick to intervene. Yeah, there had been some slight miscommunication there and before she and Jasper knew it, everything had spiralled out of control into one big mess that was getting quite tricky to keep up - namely that Henry had left his party to go buy makeup, even if he never wore it. That was a fun one to explain.

"Which clearly meant you were going to the makeup store." "Clearly." Well, at least Jasper was enforcing the lie and trying to make it believable, not that it was working. He could smile anxiously all he wanted, no one believed him, not until Ray and (y/n) quickly jumped onto what was happening and realised that they had to work to keep their friend's and their own secret identities hidden.

"Yes, I was at the makeup store buying makeup...at the store, so cool, yeah, uh-huh."

"What'd you buy?" Oh good, more questions. Lies aren't too hard to keep up, not when you'd been trained to keep them going like your life depended on it; it's when they started to be specific that they became complex and difficult because the slightest discrepancy could be picked up on and pointed out. Starting with what Henry had bought and why he didn't have a bag or receipt to show off his purchases.

"Hmmm?" "What'd you buy?" His dad asked, making the boy panic since he knew next to nothing about makeup apart from that his mom wore it, his sister wore it, (y/n) wore it, Charlotte wore it, and it made them all look great. Y'know, the face dust and lip paint stuff—it worked, he just didn't know any specifics.

"Uhhhh, that's a good question, dad. What did I buy? I bought...makeup." Wow, that was a good one. Nice details. If this wasn't a crucial moment for them too, the lovey-dovey couple watching would be in hysterics at the comical nature of Henry struggling through the lie, but if he went down, he'd take them with him.

"Well, where is it?" Oh, Piper, did she have to be so...observant?

"Good question, sis. Where is the makeup? Mmmmm, okay, so, uh, I don't have it, obviously, because I...saw an ugly person on the street and I gave them all my makeup because they were so ugly." 

"Awwwww!" "That's our boy." Ten points to Henry for pulling that one off. It was implausible that someone would give away makeup straight after buying it, especially since most makeup is quite expensive, but it wasn't impossible. The kid had single-handedly saved his secret identity and come out the other side as the generous pride and joy of the family—the golden boy on his birthday. Sweet.

"And uh, where'd you come from? Were you guys at the makeup store too, (y/n/n)?" Piper suddenly turned to Ray and (y/n), making them freeze from how they were now being roped in with no plans on how to bullshit their way as Henry did. At least Piper liked the woman, so she didn't mean it maliciously but even curiosity was dangerous; one slip of the tongue and it would all be over and they'd be exposed as liars. That just wouldn't do.

"Uh, yes. Yes, they were, they were at the makeup store. That's where I saw them." Henry quickly said, making (y/n) smile sourly at how he'd thrown her into the deep end with milliseconds to think of a reply. Makeup store, makeup store, makeup, she liked that, why would she be there? Think, (y/l/n), come on, you're supposed to be the smart one...

"Uh, yeah, yes, yeah! I—we were at the makeup store because...Ray was buying me makeup. You know, just general couple things, very normal, no need to ask more questions, it was just a very boring thing..." The woman stuttered as she pictured how boyfriend pointing out pretty lipstick shades and eyeshadow palettes for her to swatch. Okay, that was believable, just two lovers going shopping and a guy treating his girl to something new to make her feel all pretty. Dodged a bullet there...

"Yeah, yeah! But before that, I was at the gym..." Perhaps not. (y/n) thought she'd gotten them out of trouble there, thought that they could move on now and she could settle into the idea that her dreamed-up scenario was quite realistic, not too far-fetched, well, she did until Ray just couldn't help but show off. It might not have been for anyone, in particular, he just wanted an opportunity to brag about how he was a caring fiancé but also a gym lad, macho and...hot. And that was fine, welcome rather, just not when he gave Kris Hart the side-eye and unzipped his jacket to reveal that chiselled torso hidden under a thin layer of the stretched t-shirt. 

That sight was for her, she wanted him to take it off to impress her, not for the benefit of some married woman he'd had some kind of feelings for in the past. Come to think of it, it was quite sad that she expected it at this point, that her heart was already braced for the blow as he paraded for Mrs Hart to giggle at and yeah, it never went anywhere, he never stooped to physically cheating and truly breaking her heart. He could never. Didn't mean it didn't sting, though. 

"Yeah, it's uh, legs, back, arms, chest, feet and neck day." Ray smiled, and in his defence, his eyes did briefly meet others' as he tossed his jacket to Mr Hart to hang up, which soured (y/n)'s mood even further because...rude much? What really fucking blew though, was how he offered that million-dollar smile to Mrs Hart and how she returned it, which left her to stand awkwardly in the background like some two-bit support act. Why did it feel like she was third-wheeling in her own damn relationship? Just, appreciate the view, (y/l/n). That's something at least.

"Okay, that was weird. Uh, why are we using our mouths to walk when we could be using those same mouths to eat the diez leches ice cream cake?" Henry was quick to intervene, noticing how his friend drooped instantly and lowered her gaze to the floor. 

He had some serious questions, mainly whether Ray realised the way he spoke to girls. Maybe it came from years of the same practice; flirt, date, dump, repeat. Flirt, date, dump, repeat. The same rinse and repeat cycle that stuck until he finally got with the girl he wanted to stay with, not that she would if he didn't break that automatic cycle. Old habits die hard, and they were just going in circles.

"I like where your head's at!" Ray exclaimed, not seeing how his team were now a little wary of him. It's not that his behaviour disgusted them, it wasn't great but he was such a difficult man to understand and it was clear that he adored (y/n), it just felt wrong to let his flirting pass by. 

The woman thought so too and before his hand could settle into the small of her back, she walked forward, dumping Henry's present with the others and cutting in between Mr Hart and Piper so he could bring up the rear with his old sweetheart. Ray felt his smile wobble when he missed touching her body by a few inches, his hand following her skin until his arm could stretch anymore and he felt a twinge in his heart at how his sweet girl just...walked off, left him to it. Huh, maybe it was just the excitement, the cake sure was worth running for, he could just snuggle up to her later, no worries.

"Let's do it! Let's do it! Let's do it!" "It's happening, here it comes!" Everyone grinned as Mrs Hart used her electric lighter to light the birthday candle again, the group crowding around the counter so they could sing happy birthday again. Jasper, being the genius he was, had set up a circle of fans to keep the cake as cool as possible whilst Henry was...buying makeup and because of his diligence, it was still in perfect condition, although, not for much longer.

So, as they watched the candle flicker to life, Ray crept nearer to the counter, pressing his front to his girl's back as she reluctantly came to stand beside Henry's hot mom. Her hair was nice, curled to perfection, her makeup seemed better too, more matt and less shiny than hers with every brushstroke perfectly accurate, and to say that she was at least ten years older, she didn't look it. 

Yeah, she'd want to flirt with her too and so, feeling her doofus looming over her, abs and all, wasn't as pleasant as it should've been, not even when his arms wrapped around her waist to bring her in closer, chin settling on her shoulder. Well, maybe it was quite nice, she felt safe and wanted, but it wasn't to last. Good things never do.

"Happy birthday to you—" "Emergency call! We gotta go!" Everyone's cheerful singing trickled into silence as Henry's watch and Ray's and (y/n)'s phones started to sound simultaneous. Another call, another mission, another excuse needed for why they had to rush away suddenly, and the couple untangled to see what was up. Their work was never done but Ray announcing it to a few civilians in his Captain Man voice was unneeded and quite weird, honestly. Definitely not suspicious.

"Emergency?! What do you mean?" Mrs Hart exclaimed as Ray made a break for it, forgetting that this wasn't the Man Cave. There was no safety here, he couldn't just run off and expect everyone to understand. There were strangers around, they didn't know what an emergency was in those terms, so to them, it sounded quite dramatic like their house was on fire or that odd shop that they co-owned was being robbed. What a shame for such a nice couple...

"...That's a good question, Henry's mom. Uhhh, it's...uhhh..." Time to dust off that squishy walnut called a brain and use it to get out of this mess—and Ray was quite good at lying, sort of. He'd been doing it all of his adult life, it was in his job description and he'd had a lot of practice, just needed to get a spark of inspiration, "...it's an emergency reminder!"

"Yes, yes, it's an emergency reminder that we have for the...birthday surprise that we're gonna do for Henry!" (y/n) interjected, not knowing if it was right to butt in yet she just couldn't stop her tongue. Ray didn't flinch, he played it cool like that's what the lie had been all along and his casual arm slung over her shoulders made her gulp at how they were having to act at this point. They couldn't be nervous, she couldn't bury herself into that stupid perfect chest and imagine that they were back in the Man Cave where their relationship thrived, they were just along for the ride, taking the bumps as they came.

"Firework?!" And Jasper had just caused a fucking huge bump. Yeah, because they were cheap and easy to arrange, let alone fake in five minutes. It couldn't have been an extra present or a fake promotion or y'know, he could've just said nothing and left the lying to them, but nooooo. Now, they had to do fireworks because once something was said, it was irrevocable.

"Yeah." "The fireworks. The private fireworks show that only Henry, (y/n) and I can watch." The couple swallowed the dryness in their mouths away as they just worked with it, making it clear that this was a three-person thing, no extra guests allowed because it was "private" and "special". So, with the group giving them sceptical, squinted expressions, they backed away slowly, Ray grabbing (y/n)'s hand like he so often did. Would she ever know that with her in the room no one else existed for him? Mrs Hart didn't stand a chance.

"Well, it's about to start so, we gotta go! See ya!" "I'm excited!" "Don't eat the cake without us, bye-bye!" The trio rambled as they slammed the door behind them and escaped to the safety of the deserted porch. A quick holo-call to Schwoz and they'd know where they stood, but Henry just hoped that the tension between the couple didn't suffocate him.

"Let's call Schwoz and see what's—" "Peeeeeeew! Boooom-crackcrackcrack—shooooshooo-eeee!" Had Ray hit his head? As Henry went to flick open his watch, the man looked up at the sky and started screaming like a banshee, which drew some very confused looks from his sidekicks. It just came out of nowhere; one minute, they were just being normal, and the next, he was screeching right in their ears. what was up with that?

"What was that? What are you doing?" Henry was the first to ask, but it was what both he and (y/n) were thinking. Yet Ray just sniffed and returned to normal, looking like what he'd just shouted hadn't phased him at all. Rather, his hand just wiggled through the air, looking for his girl's since he liked holding hands, hers were small and soft and fit just right with his and...she folded her arms. Huh?

"Oh, I'm making them think there's fireworks out here," Ray whispered, ignoring how his stomach felt all kinds of funny when his sweet girl backed away from him by a fraction—a hair—a goddamn millimetre that felt like a mile. He'd just wanted to keep up the lie by sounding...ridiculous, was he reading into the distance too much?

"Good idea! Owwwww—pergowwwww!" Henry copied his boss as best he could, ignoring how his face fell when (y/n) kept herself to herself; that was between them, he felt it best to let them sort stuff out, intervening only when necessary. Anyway, fireworks had to be noisy, so they were making noise, just to cover up the holo-call so no one came sniffing. "All right, ready?... Hey, what's up, Schwoz?"

"I just got an emergency call about the blood bank." The genius told them as he appeared above Henry's wrist and he did not look happy. Rather, he looked very worried, which was unusual for Schwoz since he was such an easy-going guy.

"Yeah, what about the bank?" "Did you guys forget something like maybe to take Jeff to jail?" Schwoz gave them all his serious eyes and suddenly, they felt quite stupid. Whoops, in the rush to get cake, they'd forgotten to do their jobs and had left the stupidest criminal in Swellview, yet still a criminal, to continue his moronic rampage. Certainly not their finest moment.

"Boom!" "Ka-blam!" "Oh-bang-god-damn-bang-it!" The heroes didn't need his strict expression to kick themselves, almost immediately they were groaning and scuffing their shoes against the stone tiles because that was such a rookie mistake. How could they be so dumb? They mocked Jeff for being an idiot but they'd done this and (y/n) was so pissed with herself. Maybe worrying about what her fiancé was or wasn't doing should've been her second worry, and perhaps her job and duty should've been first.

"He's robbing that same blood bank again and you need to go stop him!" Schwoz's urgency was clear; those pints were set to save a lot of people and if Jeff spilt any of them then a lot of donations, time and money would go to waste. They couldn't just wait for him to do that, not for a slice of cake, even if it was amazing.

"Okay, Henry. You go to the blood bank and deal with Jeff. I'll stay here with (y/n)." Oh, Ray. He could rival Jeff in terms of being an utter moron at times. Come on, it was the kid's birthday, but he had to admit he had selfish reasons and not just for the cake. His radar (which very rarely worked) was telling him that something was wrong and he needed to stay behind with his sweet girl to figure it out. A perfect cake to match her sweetness would help and Henry could cope by himself, no problem.

"And?" "And that's it that's the whole plan." Wow, great plan. Possibly the worst plan ever created and Henry was disgusted. More work on his birthday just because his boss had pissed off his other boss with his stupid flirting? Yeah, no, that was his problem, not his.

"Why do I have to go? It's my birthday, those are my presents and I would like to eat my diez leches cake. "Diez leches?!" Henry really should've kept quiet about the cake, everyone seemed to want a piece and there was less and less to go around. Schwoz couldn't help but be fascinated by this development because he loved leches, he loved cake, and now, he quite fancied a stroll down to the boy's house.

"Yeah. Ka-bow!" "That's ten leches!" "Right, and I would like to eat those ten leches, which is why I want Ray and (y/n) to go deal with Jeff," Henry stated, closing his watch when Schwoz refused to stop banging on about the goddamn leches and he turned around to look at his boss. 

He knew (y/n) wouldn't mind going, hell, she'd probably be glad to drag him away to a place where she could do whatever it would take to clear the air. Ray, however, wasn't so easy to persuade. "Please, take your girlfriend and go deal with Jeff."

"Okay, first, she's my fiancée, not my girlfriend, we've been through this. And second, just hear me out here...shooooop!" Henry gave his boss a dry stare as his arm snaked around (y/n)'s neck and pulled her in close just to strengthen his point. Girlfriend, fiancée, whatever, she was still grumpy with him and he was the big, dumb lump who failed to see that. 

"If we go to the blood bank and deal with Jeff, scooby-dada-da-boom!... your family is gonna sing you happy birthday and then, by the time we get back, it's gonna be gone, and then, we're not gonna get any cake--shoooouuup!"

"Wow, these fireworks are amazing, guys. Thanks, guys!" Henry yelled in a faux cheery tone as he mulled over what Ray had said. That was true, his family would start without them and then there'd be no hope in saving two slices for two randomers that he just so happened to work with. And he wanted to celebrate with them, just not have to work for that. "Go on..."

"But if you go deal with Jeff, everyone's gonna wait until you get back to sing happy birthday and then, we all get cake. Baba-badoooor!" God, it was so frustrating that a guy who was such an idiot was actually really smart sometimes. Superheroes had to have some wits about them...

"Okay, but don't eat that cake until I get back."

"Promise." Ray gave the boy his solemn word as he fished in his pocket for his gum tube because y'know, he was begrudgingly gonna do it if it meant he got to have everyone he loved with him on the best day of the year. That made the man smirk at how he'd finally gotten his way, believing that now, he was gonna have a relaxing afternoon with his sweet girl and discover what was bugging her. But when he looked down at her to give her that oh-so-cocky face of his, (y/n) had already made up her mind.

"Hen, wait. I'm coming too." She stated, unwinding her dumb doofus' arm from her shoulders and grabbing her gum from her back pocket. There was no way that she was gonna let the kid go alone, what if Jeff had invited another criminal along--someone who actually knew what they were doing? Not to mention the fact that she really needed to get out of this house, get some fresh air and clear her head a bit after getting so worked up over stupid Mrs Hart.

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to leave those two alone but what she didn't know about couldn't hurt her and honestly, she'd rather be ignorant than lose that warm, sunny feeling she got when he made her feel like she was the only one he wanted.

"What?--noooo, sweet girl. The kid will be fine." Ray whined as she stepped away from him and his hand caught her arm to keep them tied. Henry was so experienced at this point and after feeling those twitches in his heart like something was wrong, he didn't want to let her go. No, he wanted to hold her tight, feel her finger run over his tanned skin and see her eyes darken because he was wearing that t-shirt she loved. He wanted all of it, and he wasn't gonna get any if she went to the blood bank.

"I'm not gonna let him go alone. Just...save me a slice of cake..." (y/n) muttered, popping a gumball from the tube and rolling it between her fingers as she contemplated saying something, anything about what she was feeling. It was bad to leave a fight unresolved, even though this wasn't technically a fight, just a feeling, but they still stew. It would be better, perhaps with a clear mind, she'd fight better too, or maybe she would just worry herself sick like usual.

"Of course, sweet girl. I'll miss you and I love--"

"...And promise me you won't flirt with her while I'm gone." It just sort of...fell out. She didn't know why she had to ruin the sweetness of the moment with an ill-timed slip of the tongue but oh, well. Better out than bottle up and she heard Henry creep away to the end of the driveway to give them some space. And then, there was Ray. Her darling, sweet Ray, her doofus, looking at her with paling cheeks and a trembling bottom lip. Nice one, (y/l/n). Told you it was stupid.

"What?" Oh, he sounded so lost and confused like she'd accused him of murder or something, and yet, for a moment she could swear that was a flicker of sadness and recognition in his eyes, almost as if he instantly knew what she was referring to. She couldn't stop now, it was too late, plus the hand holding her arm was unknowingly squeezing her arm like he was afraid that she was about to bolt.

"Henry's mom. I know you don't mean to, but please, don't flirt with her while I'm gone. I don't think I can take it." She whispered and lowered her gaze to the ground as he searched her face desperately for...something. 

You could see when it clicked into place for him, how his eyes widened by just a fraction and how his fist clenched from how angry he was with himself. Idiot...what had he been thinking? The shirt, the smirks, the smooth-talking, it had felt like a normal conversation a few minutes ago but now, he realised how it looked. Yes, Kris Hart was a very attractive woman and yes, once upon a time he would freely admit that she was a good-enough lady to nurse his lonely, aching heart but now, it wasn't the same.

After all those years of hoping and wishing and swearing that nothing would change, it turned out that the one he wanted, and would always want, felt the same way. He didn't know why he couldn't switch off from that old mindset that everyone he met was to be flirted with, not when he was determined to make the best woman he'd ever met his wife--and that wasn't Kris damn Hart. He wanted to marry (y/n) (y/l/n) with every fibre of his being, he got whiny and needy when she wasn't around yet here he was making the simplest of house visits intolerable for her. 

He really was an idiot.

"Sweet girl, I--I--I got nothing. I just--I'm sorry. I didn't mean---I didn't want to--I'm sorry." Ray had nothing; no explanation, no excuse, just remorse, perhaps guilt. How many times had they been through this? Sometimes, he remembered and sometimes, he stayed well-away from getting cosy with other girls because he was a handsome guy, he knew that, and sometimes, he just gave off the wrong signals. There was nothing to say except sorry, he just hoped it was enough.

"I know, doofus. I know." (y/n) smiled sadly and patted the hand that still had her arm in a vicelike grip. Perhaps one day they'd have children and she'd have the honour of becoming a hot mom herself, maybe that would be enough to block the others out, but for now, she at least knew that he felt just as bad over the situation as she did. The only thing left was to make sure that she didn't get any reports from Charlotte about more...shenanigans. That would just break her heart.

"But if Charlotte tells me you've done it again, then you're sleeping by yourself tonight. I mean it, Raymond." The woman warned, plucking her deadliest expression from the pit of her stomach so he'd know that she meant business. No more putting up with shit, it was time to argue, no more mousy (y/n), let him have it, let him learn the hard way and let him see that she wasn't putting up with it anymore. Let her fight back for once in her life.

"I promise I won't. You're the only girl I want to be with, I love you." Ray finally released her arm and trailed his finger downwards until they reached her hand, which he brought up to his lips in the brink of an eye. Something told him that she wouldn't give him a chance to kiss her lips, something else told him that he didn't deserve to, so he settled for her knuckles and a smile ghosted his face when she didn't jerk away in repulsion.

"I love you so much, you big doofus. I'm gonna want that cake when I get back...and a kiss if you're lucky." She couldn't help the teasing, not even the peck she left on the corner of his mouth as she prepared to finally leave after god knows how long of standing on the porch. It was more on his cheek than anything, but enough to leave him blushing from an inrush of affection for a woman he truly didn't deserve yet he coveted so selfishly and loved so unapologetically. 

"Hurry back, then," muttered Ray, feeling his heart pumping strongly in his chest like a teenager experiencing his first interaction with a girl. It was now his mission to be on his best behaviour, to be polite but not flirty, to be charming but not attractively so. He had to make his sweet girl proud and not just because he wanted a kiss, although he did. He also wanted to make her proud that she stook around for better or for worse with him. And the worse was fucking awful sometimes.

And so, (y/n) gave him one last smile before walking down the driveway to meet up with a highly impatient Henry, who didn't know what all the fuss was about, but he let it slide anyway. The woman seemed to have more energy about her as they chewed their gum and lurked in the shadows to transform, and her stomach didn't seem so queasy either. Things were gonna be fine, she had faith in him.

She just hoped she could trust Henry's mom in the same way.

~The B Positive Blood Bank~

Right, back again. Honestly, at this point, the nurses were starting to think that they were there for a donation but no, the sidekicks of Captain Man had returned for one purpose and one purpose only. To drag Jeff back to jail and go have some damn cake. It was that simple, no airs, no graces, just straight up arresting the guy and handing him over for whatever crime they could make stick. 

And of course, in their absence, Jeff had been up to his old tricks, he'd just...moved onto the next best thing. With the blood being useless to him unless he could find a vampire willing to pay for a stash; he needed to make his time at the blood bank worthwhile and what had the heroes left behind? Yep, that stupid AC unit.

Sure, it was old, rusty and broken after the fall but hey, scrap metal could make a quick buck and no one was stopping him, so for the past hour and a bit after waking up from his Kid-Danger-induced nap, Jeff had been attempting to drag the hunk of junk out of the blood bank with an expected amount of success--none. And that was how Henry and (y/n) found him, on the verge of breaking his back from the strain.

"Hey." Idiot. 

"What the hell are you doing?" (y/n) asked as she saw the man leaning back from that old air conditioning unit that had nearly flattened her into a Miss Danger pancake. He'd tied the leftover climbing ropes to it because obviously, underneath all of that flab laid the biceps of a heavyweight lifter and Jeff was very capable of getting that thing to shift. Yeah, right.

"I'm trying to steal this air conditioning unit, pretty thing," Jeff stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and (y/n) suppressed the shudder that threatened to ricochet down her spine. Ray would flip if he was here, knowing that Jeff still didn't get the message that Miss danger wasn't and never would be interested in him. She only hoped that her doofus was having similar thoughts back at the house.

"Why would you need an industrial air conditioning unit?" Henry asked, wondering why the guy would try to steal that of all things. There were many more things he could loot, the equipment, the blood, maybe the bank kept money somewhere, anything but the AC would be worth taking. That hunk of junk was just dead weight, fit for nothing but the scrap heap.

"Okay, so you know how I had to move back home with my mom?" Jeff shot back as if the sidekicks bothered to study his personal life. No, they didn't know that, why would they?

"Why would we know that?" (y/n) questioned with furrowed eyebrows, her arms folded across her chest at how this conversation was taking a peculiar turn. Now, they were moving onto the behind the scenes life of Jeff, and she wasn't interested in that. She truthfully just wanted to see him in jail, not that he cared for their obvious disinterest.

"Well, you know how she doesn't have any air conditioning in her apartment?" Wow, the random questions just kept coming. Did he not hear the first one? They didn't know him, let alone his damn mother and his living quarters.

"Still no, Jeff."

"Okay, so, y'know how sweaty I get?" Well, they could definitely answer that one.

"Actually, yes, we have a lot of experience with that...sadly." (y/n) grimaced with the kid as they reminisced all of the times when they'd dragged Jeff to the jailhouse, them holding his slimy legs whilst Ray held his moist torso. Even when unconscious or asleep or on a cool day, the guy sweated buckets and left them in desperate need of a shower after ferrying him about--that had happened on multiple occasions.

"Well, not anymore, baby! Not with this thing--help me get it out of here. See, I'll grab the ropes and you, sweetcheeks, you can grab my sweaty waist and wrangle it out of here--" Yeah...no. There was no way that (y/n) was gonna get close to Jeff's body in that way, same for Henry. It was much simpler to just zap him with a laser and watch his tubby body collapse to the scuffed tiles. As if they'd assist in a crime...moron.

"Thanks, he was really starting to piss me off." The woman muttered as Henry kicked the door closed, wanting privacy from the bank staff as they dealt with Jeff. Now that all the hard work was over, they could just call the police, they'd pick him up and then, they'd be back on their merry way to the party and their slices of cake. Simple. "You calling the cops?"

"Nah, Schwoz..." The kid replied as the tone rang in his ear, waiting for the line to connect. Huh, Schwoz, interesting choice but she supposed that the kid needed to report back that everything was sorted now. The police would be next or they'd just deal with the criminal themselves.

"Hey, Henry. Is everything okay?" Schwoz voice asked softly through the phone, so (y/n) crept closer to Henry to see if she could get her ear closer to the speaker. No details were missed, her curiosity just couldn't take not knowing.

"Hey, uh, yeah, Schwoz. I just zapped Jeff again. Can you come here and watch him until the cops show up?" Henry requested. He wasn't in favour of sticking around, not when his party was going on without him and it wasn't like Schwoz was doing anything important, right?

"Yah, here's the thing. I'm kind of at a birthday party right now." Well, that wasn't sus at all.

"Oh, yeah, whose birthday party is it, Schwoz?" (y/n) butted in with a dry tone, knowing exactly what had happened here. Mentioning the diez leches cake was such a big mistake on Henry's part, now that coconut head wanted a piece too; at this rate, there'd be none left by the time they made it back and all because of one damn cake.

"Ummmm..."

"Schwoz!" He better start spilling the beans, Henry was getting antsy.

"Yours, okay? I'm at your party." Well, surprise, surprise. That was so irritating, not because Schwoz was there, no, Henry didn't mind that, he just cared about the fact that there was so much deceit and lies surrounding it. And now, he couldn't go home because the little man had gone behind his back, he hated that. Yet (y/n) found herself slightly intrigued too, to her shame, because now, Schwoz could report to her on the Ray-Kris sitch. Were things cosy or cold?

"Why are you at my party, Schwoz?"

"I really want some of that diez leches ice cream cake. So, I told your family I'm a new neighbour, who just moved here from Germany--Guten tag!" Schwoz explained as Mr Hart passed him a drink. It had been easy really; his accent, a set of lederhosen and hey presto, he was German and being culturally dense, Mr and Mrs Hart were none the wiser, so he'd made himself at home quite quickly, waiting for the moment the cake was cut.

"Okay, Schwoz, it's my birthday, I should be at my birthday party, not you!" Henry stressed, trying to get the same message into everyone's head. He was beyond grateful that (y/n) had taken the time to support him after he was sent to do Ray's boring work, it was nice not having to do this alone but come on! It was Schwoz! He did not deserve cake more than he did.

"Listen, I'm sure the police will be there in a minute. Just wait until they pick Jeff up and then, you can come back to your party." The small man advised, making Henry sigh at how he was being forced into sticking around. Had Schwoz never met the police? Did he know how useless they were?

"No!"

"Oh, I've got to go. They're letting your sister open your presents because she needs something to do with her hands." Oh, well, that was just cruel. (y/n) truly felt for the kid, who seemed to deflate at the news that Piper was ruining his presents and all the pretty boxes, paper and wrappings just because she was bored. That wasn't very nice at all, but she couldn't help but ask...

"Uh, Schwoz, wait, wait, wait! Just one more thing!" She barked down the phone, making him sigh and hang on for just a little longer since her voice sounded so urgent. Had Jeff done something else that he wasn't gonna bother going to fix? 

"Yes?"

"Um, is Ray there? Is he...y'know...okay? Is he flirting?" How could she word it? She didn't want to sound like the kooky, psycho girlfriend who checked up on her lover at every opportunity but she felt like she needed to. He had seemed so timid and pale before...livid, in fact, and she wondered if she hadn't scared him or something. Or maybe it was more of a case where he'd got the message but Mrs Hart hadn't. The desire to know and to have eyes in that room was just too great.

"No...he's on the back of the sofa, not flirting with anyone. He is quite...quiet for once. What has happened?" Schwoz asked, sounding genuinely shocked at how the mouth on legs that was Ray Manchester had been fairly reserved, respectful and polite for most of the afternoon. And by the sounds of the relieved sigh that escaped the woman, something had gone down between them. Flirting, was it? No surprises there, and he could bet on who it was with, not that it was happening now.

"Oh, nothing, it's fine. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. Tell him...tell him that I love him, please and that we'll be back soon." (y/n) beamed into the receiver, making Henry himself blush at how sappy she was being. It was odd that she was shy in a way, like in all the time she'd been dating the man she hadn't gotten used to the heavy affection they exchanged daily, but that was them all over. Fights or hiccups didn't mean back to square one, they just cleared the air and made everything feel fresh again.

"Do I have to?"

"Please? Pretty pleas, my favourite lil coconut in the whole wide world?" Schwoz could practically imagine the way her eyelashes fluttered and her bottom lip pouted and he sighed at the thought of saying those three little words to his boss, even if they were from here. Well, it looked like he was conscripted and judging by how skittish Ray seemed, he probably needed to hear it. The guy had shot down all flirtatious comments from Henry's mom, something had been said, he just knew it.

"Ugh, fine. I will say it. Just get back here quickly." The genius muttered, making the woman release a breathy chuckle at how he was gonna do, even though he wasn't very happy. Aw, that was sweet. Good, old Schwoz.

"We will. See you later, Schwoz!"

"Bye-bye..." And just like that, he left them alone with an endless wait for the Swellview cops. Well, this was gonna be fun. His presents were being opened by someone else, his cake was melting by the minute and Henry Hart was stuck in a blood bank with a sweaty, drooling guy and a woman, who couldn't stop smiling to herself. 

Best birthday ever, right?

"Did you say it was your birthday? Ha!--" And for a brief moment, Henry had the absolute delight of hearing Jeff of all people mock him. Yeah, yeah, he got it, this was the suckiest birthday in the history of birthdays, he didn't need a reminder, and luckily, he had a very good friend by his side who also didn't need to hear it. 

Without even batting an eyelid, (y/n) snatched the laser remote from her belt and tapped the button once, firing a singular bolt at the criminal. It was enough to send him back into a deep sleep and they welcome the peace the silence brought. How long were these cops gonna be?

~A while later~

"Come on...where are the cops? I wanna eat my cake! How long did they say they were gonna be?" Henry demanded to know as he paced back and forth across the floor, not caring if he occasionally stepped on Jeff's fingers. 

They'd done their bit, they'd phoned, used their best superhero voices to make the officers move their butts and they'd stuck around when it was much simpler to just go home. Their work was done, so where were those useless wastes of taxpayers' money?

"They just said they were on their way, stop panicking! I'm sure your family are being super patient and are waiting for you--us, even, to get ba--" (y/n) stumbled as her reassuring words were cut off by the quiet thrum of Henry's phone. She'd been trying to reassure herself as much as the kid, praying to God that she'd returned and the cake, her relationship and god knows what else would be fine, but now, the kid was wanted. Who wanted what now?

"Who is it?" The woman asked, peering over his shoulder, only to have her eyes widen when Henry's mom's contact flashed up on the screen. Oh god, why now? He was in uniform, she was in uniform, they couldn't be seen like this! It was so typical that they'd get a damn video call right when they were in the middle of a mission, and the thought of being caught made their tummies twist in panic.

"Ah, jeez!" henry gasped, his eyes meeting (y/n)'s and they were full of worry. Should he pick it up? Should he ignore it? Should he tear the mask from his face? Should he run and hide and hope that the problem would go away?

"Okay, okay, no need to panic. Just transform back into Henry and take the call. I'll keep watch." (y/n) told him, mustering her rationality and calm nature in their hour of need. No biggie, she could keep an eye on Jeff and the door whilst he took the call and dealt with whatever his mom wanted, it was fine. Perhaps a little annoying and impractical, but not the end of the world.

"Okay..." Henry muttered and quickly threw a gumball into his mouth so he could begin chewing. As the phone kept ringing, he blew his bubble and snapped into his civilian clothing once again whilst (y/n) took a step back towards the door. She didn't want to be caught on camera and with Henry looking like Henry again, no staff needed to walk in.

The boy looked around the room for a normal place to stand before deciding to press himself against the plain wall. The medical equipment of the blood bank would be quite a weird background and difficult to explain away if his mom noticed. So, with everything in order and (y/n) giving him a final nod, he answered the call.

"Hey-hey, mom! What's up?"

"Hey, Henry! There's a lot of people here and they want to eat your cake and Jasper thinks it's gonna melt." Mrs Hart told her son in a worried voice as she showed off the diez leche cake, which was now being fanned by everyone as well as several electronic fans. There was Piper, his dad, Charlotte, Ray, Jasper, and Schwoz, of course, but also, there was this weird woman in uniform that he'd never seen before. Where'd she come from?

"I can't keep it cool much longer. I'm sorry, Henry, I tried." Jasper groaned as he fanned with all of his might. With the refrigerator out of action, thanks to the raccoon, he couldn't stop the ice cream from dripping down the side of the cake anymore and whilst he felt an insurmountable amount of guilt, he was willing to accept defeat after giving his all.

"The thing is, we can't eat the cake until we light a candle and sing happy birthday to you." His mom went on, and for a moment, Henry felt quite glad that they were thinking about him. Well, that was generous of them, that meant they were gonna wait. Right?

"Oh, good..."

"So, we're gonna sing over the phone, right now." Or not. That sounded fucking horrible and (y/n)'s jaw practically hit the floor at the audacity of those people, her friends and doofus included. Would it kill them to be patient for one hour? No. Singing happy birthday over the phone and eating the cake without him there was downright cruel and Henry wasn't too happy about it.

"What? No, no, no, no, no, don't, don't, don't, don't do that!"

"Everyone, get together! Mrs Hart ignored him and the crowd of people in his house huddled together so all their faces could be seen, including that one random woman he still didn't know. The sight of them all getting in close made his heart lurch to his throat because it was his birthday and he was missing everything, all he could do was take in (y/n)'s sympathetic expression, but the call was the least of their problems.

"Hey, Miss Danger, Kid Danger. Sorry, we're late--" With a squeal and an instinctive reflex, Henry bolted from the wall and (y/n) shoved her full body weight against the door, forcing it to close before two very late, very unexpected police officers strolled in and saw Miss Danger with just a regular kid--who was obviously Kid Danger out of uniform. Oh god, oh, god, oh god, luck was not on their side today.

(y/n) had just slammed the door on the cops and Henry was still talking to his mother, how could they do both? There was nowhere to hide, no way to escape and at just that moment, the singing began as he panicked and the woman struggled to stop the men from forcing their way in.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..."

"Happy birthday to you---" Suddenly, Jeff's slurred voice joined the chorus as Henry's family and friends, plus one stranger recited that well-known song and as quick as a flash, (y/n) shot him with another laser as she dug her heels into the floor. The police couldn't come in, not just yet, they'd figure out who the kid was and then, things would get messy, and it took every ounce of strength she had to match the strength of the men on the other side.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Henry..."

"Miss Danger, are you and Kid Danger okay in there?" One of the officers asked as he got a flash of the superheroine's skirt from behind the oak. Well, they were definitely in there, he saw her, maybe not Kid Danger or Captain Man, but something was going on in there and automatically, they began to think the worst. Were they being held captive or were they injured because of the criminal? 

"Uh, yes, all fine, just one moment, thank you. Kid...Kid! A little help, please!" (y/n) hissed to the boy so no one either on the phone or behind the door would hear and so, Henry rushed to help the woman shoulder the wood. Jeez, these guys were determined to get in and if they waited around much longer, the sidekicks weren't gonna be able to stop them from entering.

"Can you guys sing faster than that, please?" Henry asked his family, taking care that he didn't give them a look of (y/n) in her super suit. Sure, it would've been nice to appreciate hearing the song but right now, getting through it was more important, then, they could focus on the police.

"Happy birthday to you!" They finished singing promptly, allowing the kid to quickly say his goodbyes and leave them to annoyingly eat his damn cake.

"Thanks, love you, bye! Enjoy my cake!"

"Oh, wait, wait, wait! You have to make a wish and blow out my candle." Mrs Hart teased since she didn't want to break tradition, even though her son wasn't there. Yeah, 'cause she'd eat it without him but god forbid he didn't make a wish. Honestly, what made this woman so attractive to her lover? (y/n) could only imagine because she could be rather...mean sometimes. 

"You didn't quite get it!" She smiled playfully as Henry blew out his cheeks to pretend that he was blowing out the candle, when in reality, Charlotte did it for him. Clearly, she didn't know why he was in a hurry, she just wanted the cake, but it worked well enough for the kid since he now didn't have to play the childish game.

"Yeah, he did. Bye, Henry!" And with that, the call ended, allowing the sidekicks to breathe a momentary sigh of relief before they remembered that they had another, perhaps slightly more worrying problem on the other side of the door. Right, policemen trying to get in, Henry out of costume, problem, big, need to act now.

"Quick, pop another gumball!" (y/n) told the boy breathlessly as she put all of her energy into keeping the officers away and the kid, equally as tired, nodded lethargically. This was all getting to be too much for the boy; one minute he was Kid Danger, the next he was himself, he had Jeff to worry about, himself to worry about, his party to worry about, (y/n) and whatever was going on with Ray to worry about, the police to worry about. Seriously, he couldn't catch a break.

"Oh my god..." He panted and knocked back another piece of gum, his tube significantly lighter than it had been that morning and as (y/n) watched on, he chewed and chewed and chewed until...the cops got too impatient. If they had waited just a little longer, then Henry would've transformed fully and the door would've been opened cordially, but no. Just before he began to blow the bubble, they kicked the door down. Literally.

(y/n) and Henry were thrown to the floor with the heavy, wooden door on top of them as the impatient cops stormed in, expecting to see the sidekicks in the room. Of course, they were sandwiched between the door and floor but looking on the bright side, things weren't all bad. The door provided excellent cover for Henry to finally blow his bubble and get back into his uniform with nothing but a faint glow enveloping him and (y/n). All's well that ends well.

Tentatively, the officers lifted the door from the floor, revealing everyone's favourite sidekicks underneath, who weren't looking best pleased with how they'd nearly been flatted because of these bozos. Seriously, did no one in the city know that patience is a virtue? They asked for a moment and everything, but nooo, they just had to break down the damn door.

"What were you doing under that door?" One of the cops asked, causing the boy and woman to glare at him because what the actual fuck? What kind of question was that?

"Not eating cake..." Henry replied bitterly as they just lay there, imagining what the cream, the frost, the sponge and the frozen dessert would taste like if they were back at his house right now. Diez leches...they sounded quite nice and if they imagined really hard and used their brightest brain cells, they could almost taste it on the tips of their tongues as the cops moved in on Jeff.

Soon, they thought to themselves, so very soon.

~Back at Henry's house~

Well, Henry and (y/n) would be glad to know that the cake was nice, very nice, delicious, in fact. Just as predicted and with a stroke of pure luck, everyone had received a piece of equal size with just enough left over for two extra slices. Those were reserved for the absentees and weren't allowed to be touched under any circumstances, they owed that to the kid since they'd done everything else without him.

"Oh, and when Henry called, (y/n) told me to tell you that...loves you and will be back soon." Schwoz quietly groaned through his penultimate mouthful of blissful sweetness as he stood next to Ray, who was just about done eating too. He had to admit that the cake was definitely worth waiting for, the flavours were just right and yet it wasn't the best thing he'd ever tasted, not even close. He knew a different kind of sweetness and even after the sugary treat, he couldn't kick the craving for...honey.

"She really said that?" The man asked in a hopeful voice and gazed at his handyman with wide eyes and a growing smile. After all, he'd put her through, his sweet girl was still missing his wretched heart and counting down the seconds until she was back by his side again, much like he was. He kept to his word just for her, his promise was still good and he'd been minding his tongue all afternoon as she fought crime like the girl boss she was and he couldn't wait to see her smile and receive that pledged kiss. 

"Yah... You know she loves you, right?" Schwoz raised an eyebrow as he questioned the hero quietly, although Mr and Mrs Hart and Piper were too busy with their cake to care about what was being said between their guests. 

Why was he so...unsure of himself? It didn't seem right for the man, he usually had the confidence to spare but then again, the Ray that other people saw was rarely the real Ray. The real Ray was the guy who (y/n) (y/l/n) got to see, the one who was terrible at love but craved it so desperately. That was who Schwoz was dealing with right now, the man who cared about the consequences of his actions because if there was one thing he wanted to have forever, it was his sweet girl.

"Yeah, 'course. I just...don't know why she does sometimes." It was still a wonder to him. Here he had this gorgeous, smart, sexy woman willing to give up every other man's existence and settle down with him, a guy with emotional issues, personality issues, work issues, and most frustratingly, relationship issues. All those exes would haunt him for the rest of his life; he could scrap the bedpost and make (y/n) the only notch on it but there were so many faces he used to know and one of them just happened to be his sidekick's mother.

Honestly, truly, sincerely, he didn't want to make a move on someone else, no other girl could compare but that's just how he communicated with the fairer sex. Moms just...clicked something in his mind and before he knew it, he was knee-deep in trouble with a forlorn fiancée.

"Because you treat her right. And you make her feel brave and safe and special." Jasper suddenly piped up from his right, having overheard the entire conversation as he ate his cake. For him, it was quite amusing to hear Ray doubt himself because if only he could hear the praises (y/n) sang when he wasn't around. She'd pined for him for years and could bang on about how perfect he was for hours and his flaws. What flaws? They were just part of the package. 

"Yeah, and how do you know this?" Ray gave Jasper a wary expression because whilst he quite liked being reassured, he wasn't used to turning to this kid for advice. Henry, yes, Charlotte, maybe, Jasper, no. He was a bit of an idiot, Ray made no secret about that and therefore, he was reluctant to trust him, believing that this was a misunderstanding or just some mumbo-jumbo Jasper-esque bullshit that wasn't to be trusted. How could he know about his sweet girl's feelings? No, he couldn't believe him.

"Because she said so. You'd be surprised how much she talks about you when you're not around. Dude, she's in love with you." The boy said softly, watching as Ray swallowed from the emotion and weight of his words. 

It wasn't very often that they had a tender moment together and in Henry's kitchen of all places, but it was the truth. Ray would never be able to hear how (y/n) rambled about how great he was, how she longed to be with him a few years ago and was now set to be with him forever, he'd never know just how happy that made her, but he could get a pretty good idea.

"I'm in love with her too..." The hero mumbled in reply, feeling his heart warm when he admitted the words without shame or shyness. Maybe sometimes he didn't deserve her or didn't properly appreciate what the universe had gifted to him, but by God, not once had he ever regretted or stopped loving his girl, she was the most precious thing in his life. He'd be lost without her--his best friend and lover in one person, wasn't that the dream?

"Don't you think you should tell her that, not us?" Schwoz asked as he pushed whipped cream around his plate and toyed with a few chocolate chips. It was no good Ray telling them about how much he loved the woman, it was like "the long wait" as Schwoz liked to call it all over again. Love needed action and a dash of courage to make it work and a good place to start was a strong foundation.

"Yeah..." Ray broke out in a small smile, knowing that genius was right. It wasn't scary, (y/n) would never laugh or mock him. She was too sweet for that and felt the same as he did. It was settled then; when she returned, he'd repledge his love for her and everything would go back to normal. Great, glad to know that was over and for his success in reaching what could only be described as an epiphany, Ray reached for a second helping of cake. Come on, he deserved it, he was a man in love and set to marry the girl of his dreams.

"What are you doing?" Jasper snapped as he slapped his hand away after seeing it creep towards one of the spare slices. Of course, Ray would never touch (y/n)'s slice, he fully expected to sit and woo her as she enjoyed it but Henry's cake? That was a different matter. Surely, a small nibble of the corner couldn't hurt...

"I want that piece," Ray said whilst Schwoz licked his plate clean. Anyone would want it, the diez leches really lived up to their fame but, no, that slice was reserved for the birthday boy and the other was reserved for (y/n)--the two people who'd sadly been out doing very important "makeup shopping".

"But these are the last pieces. And you already had one."

"So?" Ray shrugged and went to grab Henry's slice. Hell, maybe he could get a mouthful from the other one too, he was sure his sweet girl wouldn't mind too much, he was her doofus after all, but on second thoughts, perhaps not. He wanted to stay in her good books and the other was just as good, why couldn't he be the one to sample it just a smidge?

"We need to save that piece for Henry and that piece for (y/n). Don't you want to let your...sweet girl have a piece too?" Jasper asked bravely as he caught the man's wrist and all those fluffy feelings from the previous tender moment vanished. Now, Ray's irritation was back and all because he didn't like other people mentioning that nickname, his greedy side couldn't handle it. It was his, he came up with it and he loved seeing how happy it made his girl when he said it. That was his happiness, no one else's.

"Unhand me, boy!" Ray snapped and tried to grab the flimsy paper plate that held one of the last pieces but to no avail. When Jasper felt protective, he was like lightning and as such, he swooped in and grabbed both plates before anyone else could claim them. No one was gonna ruin the final part of Henry's birthday, even if it killed him.

"Jasper, what are you doing? There's a raccoon in that fridge!" Mr Hart asked worriedly as he looked up and saw that the teen was playing with fire. As he balanced the cake slices in both hands, Jasper also had one finger hooked around the handle of the fridge door, the same fridge that was currently housing a crazed raccoon baying for human blood. Was he trying to get them all mauled?

"Oh, I know! And if anybody tries to take Henry or (y/n)'s final pieces of cake, I'm gonna let this raccoon out!" The boy warned, causing everyone to gasp as he carefully wrapped an extra finger around the handle without dropping one of the plates. Oh, he was deadly serious, no one was gonna budge with such a threat being dangled in front of them. This cake was sacred and Jasper was its sworn guardian.

"Ummm, that's a bad idea." The random woman warned him, who turned out to be an officer from animal control who like many others, had decided to overstay her welcome when brought face-to-face with the diez leches cake. If anyone knew the danger, it was her, but she was still too busy shovelling ice cream into her mouth to do her job.

"I'll do it!

"You don't have the guts." Ray taunted Jasper as he threatened them all, his fist tightening around the metal. Jasper was all bark and no bite, the hero knew that; there had been plenty of times when he'd tried to be brave and forceful only to slip up at the last minute. No, he was bluffing, Ray was sure of that. He had to be.

"Get him, boy!" And just to prove him wrong, Jasper, dear, sweet Jasper, yanked open the fridge and stood to the side for the raccoon to attack the man who doubted him. The problem, though, was that the damn animal wasn't trained, neither was it loyal to anyone in particular and after so many hours of being locked in the fridge, it was quite cranky. So, rather than Ray, it jumped on Jasper and started shredding him to ribbons. Cue the chaos.

"Aghhh!" The boy screamed and scrambled to hide behind Ray's indestructible body as the creature started to roam freely around the kitchen. Was it foaming at the mouth? Were those claws as sharp as they looked? Were its fangs ready to pierce their flesh? No one fancied sticking around to find out and almost immediately, there was a mad stampede for the back door.

And in the confusion of Piper and Charlotte making a break for it, just as Mr Hart was tugging his wife to the door, Mrs Hart tripped and fell. Well, every man for himself and everything, Jake just left her to get eaten and ran out the door, leaving Mrs Hart on the kitchen tiles with a speechless Ray. "Honey!"

That wasn't very nice and now, he had a choice. Should he leave her there to get attacked, save her like a knight in shining armour or do the hero thing and offer his cordial assistance? Option three sounded quite good.

"Come with me if you wanna live." Okay, maybe he couldn't quite resist a dramatic rescue line, but all the same, he offered the woman a polite hand up and pulled her to her feet in a way you'd do with a friend who'd scuffed their knee. Well, he'd done the right thing and Mrs Hart gave him a grateful smile as he dropped her hand and she dusted herself off. It was more than her husband had done.

"Thank you. Miss (y/l/n) is very lucky to have you." Kris gave him one of her bright smiles as they briskly walked to the door before the raccoon made another move. Once upon a time he would've grasped her hand or put an arm around her shoulders but no, now, he was adamant that he was gonna draw the line between them. Friends, sure, that was fine, but flirting, nope, he had several new reasons to avoid that like the plague.

"Actually, ma'am, I'd say I'm lucky to have her." Was it cheesy? Maybe. Was it a bit cliche? Possibly. Was it the indisputable, honest, simple truth? Definitely. 

"Oh, Henry's told me all about you two and how adorable you are," the woman grinned, causing Ray to blush at how he and his fiancée were a source of gossip, "now, tell me about this wedding. Have you set a date yet?"

"Well, we were thinking about the spring, (y/n) loves the blossoms on the trees--" And so, they fell into a deep, chipper conversation all about the ceremony, the honeymoon and the few plans that had already been decided on by the couple. There wasn't much to say about how long they'd been engaged already, but Mrs Hart wanted to hear it all. 

Seeing a man get so excited and so distracted from his surroundings just because he was talking about the girl he was gonna marry was truly adorable--she understood what Henry meant when he said soulmates. Those were rare these days and despite appearances, she was happy for them.

And meanwhile, back in the kitchen as they made for safety, the animal control officer was proving to be more than useless. Apparently, raccoons have a love for diez leches ice cream cake just as much as humans do and the moment it saw the leftovers on her plate, the raccoon decided it wanted a taste.

"I'm not scared of you!" She cried, clutching the plate close to her chest as she tried to remember all of her training. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, she was the one with the net and tranquilliser gun, but as the raccoon inched closer, her resolve broke and she couldn't stay brave any longer. The animal control woman legged it and took her cake with her, leaving the creature to seek out another source of leche-y goodness.

And the only other source was up on the counter--Henry and (y/n)'s pieces of cake--so that's where it went, right up onto the kitchen island where it could lick at the icing to its heart's content. And of course, one piece wasn't enough, the raccoon didn't just stick to one piece; no, it alternated between the two, lapping at the melting ice cream wherever it could find it--and that's what the victorious sidekicks discovered as they finally burst through the door.

"Hey, we're back!" Henry announced as he and (y/n) rushed into the house, having safely left Jeff in the hands of the dumb police officers. No more call-outs, no more emergencies, just a relaxing evening with his friends and family. Speaking of which, where were his friends and family? No Ray, no Jasper, no parents, no sister, no Charlotte, no Schwoz, no Jasper, not even the random lady. Huh?

"Hello? Anybody here?..." (y/n) called out as she closed the door behind them. This felt...odd, like a lot of the parties she'd been to, it was dead. Not one soul to be seen and she felt a bit nervous as to where her doofus had disappeared to. She had a kiss to give him..."Where is everyone?"

"I don't know..." Henry mumbled and suddenly, he grew very quiet when something caught his eye in the kitchen. Not much, just a small flash of grey amongst the bright furniture and as they edged closer, he could swear that the grey blob was...moving? Was it? No...it couldn't be the raccoon...oh, yes, it was. It was the damn raccoon and the pair's faces descended into horror and confusion when they saw it nibbling away at their cake. Their cake. The cheek of the thing.

"Is that raccoon eating our diez leches cake?" (y/n) asked Henry as they stood and observed the animal licking at both plates. She just wanted to make sure that he was seeing what she was seeing because if not, then this had to be a dream or a hallucination. That raccoon was eating her cake, her doofus was off god knows where with whoever and this day was going really weirdly...

"Yeah..."

"What are we gonna do?" That was the question to ask. It was all right wondering about everything but they'd worked damn hard to return to that sweetness and they couldn't just let it go now. Were they gonna shoot the raccoon? Shoo it away? Scare it? Trap it back in the fridge? She really hoped that he had an idea because she'd seen what it had done to his dad and super-regeneration or not, that wasn't for her.

To her surprise, Henry said nothing, didn't even look at her as he grabbed her hand and started walking. He didn't run or shout or head for the back door to join the others congregating in the backyard. Nope, he headed straight for the raccoon and for a moment, (y/n) was quite confused as they hunched over the counter and got up close and personal with it until he carefully picked up two spare forks, handed one to her and began to eat a slice of cake. "What's up?"

Look, he'd waited all day for this, don't judge him. Sure, he had to share his birthday cake with an animal that regularly ate out of trash cans but he'd take what he could get.

"This is not how I thought today was gonna go..." (y/n) mumbled through a mouthful of the cake, her eyes closed in blissed-out rapture from the flavours that hit her tongue. Okay, now she could understand all of the fuss, that was a damn good piece of cake and judging by the groan that escaped Henry, he thought so too. Well worth the wait, well, maybe.

"So many leches, am I right?" The boy grinned as he looked at the raccoon happily as if it would reply. To be fair, it wasn't a bad way to end his birthday, sure, his presents were ruined but he still had them, he'd sort of heard his birthday song, he'd tasted the cake and he had a raccoon and one of his best friends for company. Yeah, this birthday wasn't all that bad.

"You do know he's not gonna say anything back, right?" (y/n) chuckled and broke another chunk away from the cake, making sure it was not from the side the raccoon had coated in saliva. Y'know, when it wasn't on a murderous rampage, it was actually quite cute with its black mask fur and pointed snout, and it wasn't causing them any bother as Henry sought to make conversation. He had to admit, he was quite curious...

"Yeah, I know," he mirrored her grin and pushed icing around his plate whilst thinking for something to say, "so..."

"So..." (y/n) echoed, swallowing the foamy, sugary sponge in her mouth as Henry thought about the right words to use. They couldn't just eat in silence, he wanted to talk about something, but what? They had loads they could talk about but nothing sprang to mind, except for one thing. The talk of the Man Cave, the event of the year, whichever year it would be.

"So, have you and Ray decided on a date for the wedding yet?" He asked and immediately, a smile crept onto her face at the thought of discovering her favourite topic--the idea of her getting to marry the greatest man in the world. Well, say no more, she could talk for hours on the subject but when it came to the wedding, everything was still very much in its infancy stage, much like Ray had mentioned to Mrs Hart.

"Uh, no, not yet. But we were thinking about the spring. Ray loves the weather, not too hot, not too cold. Y'know?" (y/n) replied, her eyes flickering from the kid to the raccoon and back to her plate, almost as if she was feeling shy under all of the attention, but she didn't shrink away. She never did when it came to telling people about how amazing Ray was and if Henry didn't know him personally, he'd think him a saint.

"Yeah, yeah, cool..." the boy smiled softly and had a mouthful of cake before continuing, "hey, was everything okay between you guys earlier? I know how he gets with my mom and everything." That made the woman tear up just a bit. He was so considerate, he could've just swept everything under the carpet and ignored the spat but no, he wanted to make sure she was okay. Sweet kid...

"Trust me, we're gonna be just fine. He's an idiot," she sighed, "but I love him. I love him so much and he annoys me so much sometimes, but I can't help it." (y/n) confessed and placed her fork back down on the plate. The raccoon could eat the rest, suddenly, she didn't feel like eating. She couldn't bear to let him go but sometimes her mind strayed to darker places; had he picked right with her?

"Help what?" Henry asked, recognising the flicker in her eyes that told him that she was saying one thing and thinking another. Things were good, right? Please tell him that things were good, he'd come too far with this to see it burn at the last minute because of a small bump in the road.

"It's just, sometimes I wonder if he'd be happier with someone else. Maybe a mom really would be, I don't know, better?" (y/n) stroked her fingers over smooth, cold granite and twisted her engagement ring nervously, questioning whether it was right to unload all of her problems onto a kid who already had enough of his own. Henry Hart was not her therapist but he always listened so well, it always ended up like this, just like how she always listened to him.

"(y/n/n), are you kidding me? You'd be surprised how much he talks about you when you're not around. He doesn't want anyone else, just you. Don't you want him?" Henry pressed and breathed a sigh of relief when her eyes widened like he'd kicked a puppy. Did he really just ask her that? That was like blasphemy, did he not know her at all? What a thing to say. She'd wanted one man for eleven years, more even, no one else could compare.

"Of course, I do. I'm in love with him."

"Don't you think you should tell him that?" The boy echoed Schwoz from earlier and with furrowed eyebrows, she followed his outstretched hand that pointed away from the counter and towards the back door. In the time they had been talking, Henry, being the sharp-eyed super sidekick he was, had noticed that someone from the garden had grown curious as to how one raccoon could make so much noise and had left the others to investigate.

And that someone just so happened to be Ray, who stood on the threshold of the kitchen and lounge with soft, teary eyes and his feet awkwardly scuffing on the tiles. He didn't want to intrude, not when he could see that they were in the middle of a private conversation but then, he heard someone mention his name. Before he knew it, he was dropping some eaves and sneaking closer and closer until he revealed himself fully, Henry being the first to notice his boss.

It was his sweet girl, pushing half-eaten cake around a shitty, paper plate as she poured her heart's secrets out to Henry. Not to him, no, she was terrified of what he'd say about her doubting things this far down the line. Would he freak and call the whole thing off before it had even properly started? 

"Ray..." (y/n) gulped at the sight of him standing there, looking just as perfect as he had before, shirt still stretched across his chest, hair messily styled, fingers twitching and rubbing together like he didn't know what to do with his hands. Oh god, had he heard everything? Nothing? The last-minute or so? Was he offended? Saddened? Happy? Angry? A little bit of both?

Expecting the worst, (y/n) built up some grand apology in her head, something about how there was no need to panic, she didn't mean to upset him, everything was fine, please, could she keep the ring? Could they still get married? But Ray didn't need to hear any of that, there was no fight, no squabble, no hard feelings in his heart, just a need to hold his girl in his arms after missing her all day. And so, all he did was hold out his arms to her. No words, no gestures, just arms out and a begging gaze that revealed how much he needed this.

(y/n) didn't need anything else either. Without a second thought and leaving Henry to eat his cake for a job well-done, she stepped forward and felt strong arms pulling her into a wall of muscle that was so hard and yet the most comfortable thing she'd ever felt. Her face was squished between his pecs and Ray dropped his cheek to rest it on top of her head. 

They stayed like that for a while, just clutching at each other desperately, letting the peace wash over them for a while because that's what it was. Peace; all was forgiven and they were okay to enjoy the quiet after the storm.

"I love you, doofus." (y/n) was the first to whisper, pulling her head back ever so slightly to look up at him with a soft expression as their noses brushed. She didn't know when he had gotten so close, but it didn't matter. She didn't mind such closeness, not when it was with him. 

"I love you too, sweet girl. You're it for me." Ray replied and his eyes closed at the sentiment. He'd said it before and he'd say it again; he'd searched high and low looking for the right girl for him when all along she'd been sat at home waiting for him. And now, he was done searching, he was ready to make this one last a lifetime--something he swore to her and sealed with the kiss she'd promised him. 

Henry was letting to nibble the last few sprinkles with the raccoon as their lips met again and again, hands holding hips and fingers twisting t-shirt fabric. Yeah, they were all right, he was sure of that, those lovesick smiles were back and when his hands roamed down south, she didn't stop him--he didn't look. 

This was just business as usual for them. This was the start of the next chapter in their lives.

[allaboardthevespa]

Unconditionally

I got bored, and I suddenly felt the urge to write some really sappy (with some angst) Milo Murphy’s Law fluff. I know who Melissa should end up with is a matter of debate, but I’m a proud Team Zalissa member so this fanfic will be about that. Milossa or Bradlissa fans, sorry, but hope you can enjoy this nonetheless. I wasn’t sure what to call this at first, but I listened to the Katy Perry song “Unconditionally” and my brain was like YES so here.

I’m not proud of how this ends, but eh, my brain sucks at ending things. Just hope y’all enjoy this bit of adorable sickfic fluff ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

WARNING: contains relatively graphic scenes of vomit…and becomes extremely tooth-rotting fluff

-- 

It was an ordinary day in Danville – or as ordinary as it could be with the Murphy family’s usual chaos. Milo and Zack’s walk to school had been a heck of a ride, as usual. Runaway concrete pipes, surfing on busted plumbing, falling off cliffs, the whole nine yards. But, as is the norm for Milo Murphy and his friends, everything worked out and they got to school in the nick of time.

 But of course, it didn’t take long for them to realize someone was missing.

 As the students sat in class waiting for Ms. Murawski, Milo looked between him and Zack and noticed a conspicuously empty seat. “Hey, wait a minute,” asked the jinx, “Where’s Melissa?” “I have no idea,” replied Zack, scratching the back of his head in confusion. The other students surrounding them began chattering among themselves, wondering what could’ve happened to the rough-and-tumble redhead. “Maybe she blocked one of her chakras?” Mort suggested with a shrug. Bradley facepalmed, “Mort, she’s not a hippie like you are. She doesn’t do chakras.” “MAYBE DRAKO GOT HER!” panicked Chad, shivering like a leaf and covering his head with his hands. “Don’t panic, everyone,” Amanda cut in, “Knowing what happens in this town, she’s probably caught up in time-travel shenanigans to save a cart of pistachios or something.”

 “Pipe down, class!” came an adult voice. The kids turned to see Ms. Murawski entering the room, just hanging up a phone. “I know you’ve all noticed that Melissa Chase is missing today. Well, it’s simple. She’s just come down with a stomach ache and can’t come in today. No matter, she’ll be able to catch up some other day.” She took out a pencil, “Now, turn your textbooks to page 421.”

 As the other students got to reading, Milo turned to look at Melissa’s empty chair. “That’s too bad,” he sighed, “I don’t even remember the last time she got sick.” He turned to look out the window. “Poor Melissa. She must be feeling pretty down right now.” “Yeah…” Zack agreed, looking crestfallen. “I wish I could help out.” “Well, if you want to, you could,” Amanda suddenly spoke up, “It’s just a little science work, you don’t need to worry about missing it. I think Melissa would be happy to have a little company today.” “Yeah,” Milo agreed with Amanda, “Besides…I’m sure you would love to have a little…” He cleared his throat sarcastically, before giving a smug grin, “Quality time with her.” “Oh, of course,” laughed Amanda, as snickers and ‘oooooh’s went up around the rest of the classroom. Zack flushed a beet-red, flustered by Milo’s joke. “Yes, yes, I’m aware of the, ahem, ‘chemistry’,” he chuckled bashfully, “Alrighty. If you think I should go hang out with her, I’ll go. She could use the company.” “You go, Zack!” cheered Milo, as Zack went to Murawski’s beloved front desk.

 “Excuse me, Ms…may I be excused? I need to use the restroom,” Zack innocently asked, hiding his lie expertly well. “Fine, very well,” Murawski huffed, “Just don’t get lost.” “Thanks, Ms,” he chirped, waving goodbye to the students as he left the room. The moment he slipped out, he scanned the halls for the arrow sign that was labeled “Way Out”, and the minute he saw it, he scampered in that direction. He heard hall monitors yelling at him to not run in the halls, but he couldn’t give less of a damn. Detention could wait. He had a friend to help.

 --

 After a lot of running and following directions on his phone, Zack had arrived in the street where Melissa and her single father lived. Seeing Mr. Chase standing outside his house watering a bush, Zack got on his way to talk to him when he suddenly noticed a butterfly flitting in front of him. Zack watched it fly upwards and noticed it settle on a tree branch covered in wisteria flowers – and an idea registered in Zack’s mind. He reached up and grabbed a small branch covered in a healthy amount of the flowers, wrapped the wood in some tissue paper he brought with him, and wrapped a bow around the flowers to keep them straight. Holding tightly onto the bouquet, he soon made it to the house he was looking for.

 As Mr. Chase was minding his own business, watering that bush, he heard a familiar voice. “Hey, Mr. Chase!” He turned off the hose and whipped around to see Zack, politely standing at his gate with a bouquet of wisteria flowers in hand. “Oh, hello, Zack,” greeted the firefighter, “I imagine you heard about my daughter?” “Yeah, tough break,” Zack replied in a sympathetic tone. “When I heard, I thought I could come down and cheer her up.” “Oh, how nice,” Mr. Chase smiled, “Melissa doesn’t get sick often, but she’s always miserable when she does. I think she’ll be happy to have a friend with her.” “I thought so too,” Zack nodded, following his crush’s father to the door. “Thanks for letting me come around,” he thanked with a grateful wave. “No problem,” the older man replied, “Any friend of my daughter’s is a friend of mine. Hope you two have fun.” “Bye, Mr. Chase,” Zack waved at him as he walked up the stairs to his friend’s room.

 --

 It had not been a fun morning for Melissa. When she awoke, the stomach pain had hit her in full force, and it didn’t take long for her father to realize how out of sorts she was. Neither of them liked when she got sick, but Melissa had a special hatred for the concept of illness. She was a real go-getter, and the thought of having to stay in bed for hours on end and not enjoy her usual hobbies made her feel even sicker than she was already.

 But the worst part of being sick in bed is that, without her mind being preoccupied by daily events caused by school and Murphy’s Law, it tended to wander to some uncomfortable places…and asked some tough questions she didn’t know if she had the answers to.

 Was Milo always gonna be able to keep himself prepared for every situation? 

Will his bad luck come to bite him in a way he can’t protect himself from?

Should she even be asking these questions?

Would Milo WANT her asking these questions?

 The internal crisis she was having made the stress she had grow all the more, and her stomach’s pain intensified with it.

 Melissa was holding her head in distress and shutting her eyes tightly, in a vain attempt to block out those awful questions, when she heard her door creak open. Reluctantly, she slowly opened one of her eyes…and suddenly her heart skipped a beat at who she saw waiting for her in the doorway. She gently pulled herself up from her hunched state as her eyes met his, and gently mumbled “Z-Zack? Is that…really you?” Zack let out a quiet laugh, “Of course it’s me, buddy. I heard you were sick, and I knew I had to be there for you. You are my best friend, after all.” Melissa didn’t notice it, but her cheeks were heating up with a bright red blush as the compliment warmed her heart and soul. “You…really mean that?” she asked, giving a genuine smile. Zack couldn’t help blushing himself at the sight of Melissa giving him a sweet, happy smile with her cheeks tinged red. It was completely adorable.

 To respond to her question, Zack revealed the bouquet of wisteria flowers he’d picked on his way. “If I didn’t mean it, would I get you these?” He approached her in her bed and gently knelt down to her level, “Milo’s told me you love flowers, so when I saw these in your neighborhood, I figured I’d get you a little something.” Melissa gave an adorably surprised gasp, then, as quickly as she could, reached over to grab the bouquet with a cute little giggle. “Wow, I…” she stammered, caressing some of the petals, “That’s really sweet of you.” “It’s the least I could do for you being such a great friend,” Zack responded, watching happily as his best friend held the wisteria bouquet to her chest and face and inhaled deeply. “I’m glad you like them.” “Thanks, Zack,” Melissa gave him the cutest smile ever, “I’m glad you’re here for me.” “Well,” responded the former boyband member, “What are best friends for?”

 --

 From then on, in the following hours, the two best friends made the most of their time together. The two played all sorts of games, shared all sorts of stories, and just being two kids happy in one another’s company. Zack enjoyed every moment, yet throughout it all he couldn’t stop himself taking his eyes off his best friend. Her smile warmed his heart, her giggles were absolutely adorable, and every so often she’d briefly stop what she was doing, turn around and smell the flowers he’d brought her, now sat comfortably in a vase on her bedside table. That was another thing he found to be adorable. It wasn’t often that he saw the redhead able to just loosen up and be a goofball when they weren’t busy trying to stop Murphy’s Law from causing mayhem, but when they got the chance to just be kids, it was something both of them made the most of.

 It was during a quiet break from their fun that things began to take an unexpected turn.

 Zack was watching his best friend cuddled up in her bed, stroking her hair gently, when an uncomfortable-sounding groan emitted from her stomach, and she abruptly shot up and looked at him with a deer-in-the-headlights look. “What’s the matter?” asked Zack, gently grasping her hands. “I…I dunno,” Melissa panted, before she clutched her stomach out of instinct. “I…I’ve never felt l-like this…” She took a shaky breath, “But I feel like I…ugh!” She cringed, and without thinking raised a hand to her mouth. Zack connected the dots right away. He didn’t think they’d be able to make it to the bathroom fast enough at this point. Luckily, his eyes floated to a spare empty flower vase not yet filled with wysterias or whatever other flowers she liked. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do. He scrambled over and grabbed it, before giving it to Melissa, and sat next to her once more.

 Melissa opened her mouth to say something, but abruptly, she hunched herself over and heaved unpleasantly. Zack couldn’t help cringing, but he knew he had to provide some semblance of comfort. It looked like this was a new experience for her. He gently rubbed her back as each painful retch came, making sure she knew he was there for her even in a time like this. Melissa’s mind didn’t register much else in that moment other than the horrible feeling of her throat and stomach expunging the nasty liquid from her body, and, in sharp contrast, the warm, soft, gentle touch of her best friend.

 In reality, it only took 30 seconds for the retching to stop. To Melissa, it felt like an eternity. Nonetheless, when she was sure she was done, she pulled her head back from the vase and wiped her brow as she set the now puke-filled vase aside. She breathed heavily in an attempt to clear her mind, as what just happened played itself over and over again in her head. She’d never experienced something like that before, and she never wanted to again. Luckily, though, she had her best friend right nearby. Getting a little closer to the sickly go-getter, Zack gently asked her “How do you feel?” Coughing a little, Melissa turned to Zack with a look of pure pain in her eyes. “I…I…” she wiped her brow again, “What…was that? T-that was horrible…” “Relax, Melissa,” Zack did his best to comfort her, “You just vomited. No big deal, it happens to you sometimes if you’re stomach-sick.” “B-But I…” the redhead whimpered, “Th-that hasn’t happened to me before…My dad told me about it when I was super young, and cuz I don’t get sick that often…I never THOUGHT it would happen…” She sighed, “Man, I feel like a dummy now.” Feeling his heart hurt for Melissa’s sorry state, Zack pulled her into a hug, “Hey…you’re no dummy. If this is your first time ever vomiting, no wonder your mind’s in a daze like this. You’ll be alright. You’re always alright, aren’t you?” He put a hand on one of her shoulders and comfortingly looked into her beautiful blue eyes.

 Until she said two words that threw him for a loop…

 “Not really.”

 Zack’s mind took a moment to register what Melissa had just said. Those two, little, mumbled words. “Not really.” What was she implying? Was it what Zack was thinking? No, there’s no way, Melissa was the toughest girl he’d ever known. But, why else would she say that? Gently, he got closer to her, and gently gazed into her eyes, ignoring the blush on his face, and asked “What do you mean by…’not really’?” Melissa flinched a little, not knowing where to begin. The questions in her mind were roaring to get out, and she had to let someone know. She was tired of suffering in silence.

 At that moment, Melissa gently grabbed Zack’s shoulders and began to speak, knowing he’d be there to listen.

 And all the words came flying out.

 “…Zack, I’m scared. I’ve always BEEN scared. Ever since I became Milo’s best friend, I’ve always been worrying myself like crazy about him, worrying that someday he’s gonna get caught in some insane Murphy’s Law accident that he’s not ready for and he’ll get hurt…or worse. And I know it’s really fucking stupid cause it’s goddamn Milo and he’s ALWAYS prepared, but I can’t help myself. And I just feel like a big jerk because Milo wouldn’t WANT me to be worried about him all the time. He’s…fine with the way things are and doesn’t want them to change…but…” She took a shaky breath, and sighed lowly, “I do.” Zack now reached up and rubbed her shoulders as she continued talking, “I don’t want Milo to be stuck with Murphy’s Law. I want him to live and be happy, without always having to look over his shoulder in case of stampeding bison or angry crossing guards or other shit like that. But Milo…he just doesn’t want that…and I feel like a selfish idiot who tries to act like she knows what’s best for everyone…but…” She glanced up, and Zack’s heart leapt at what he saw…

 The toughest, smartest kid he’d known in his life…strong, brave, a born leader with a near-permanent smile…

 She was crying.

 “I just…” she whimpered, not even bothering to wipe away the hot tears streaking down her face, “I feel like such a selfish jackass who doesn’t know what Milo or even you want in your lives…I just don’t want to lose him, or you, or anyone…” She shut her eyes tightly and let a fresh wave of tears out, “And I’ve been lying to you about how I’ve been feeling this whole time…because I just don’t want you guys to see what a fucking mess I really am!” “You’re not a mess-” Zack tried to interrupt, only for Melissa to cut him off. “No, don’t…don’t keep the lie going any longer than it has to…” she sobbed, “I act like I’m tough, but…I’m just a terrified wreck of a person who can’t stand the thought of losing the people she cares about…that’s me. That’s selfish, paranoid, obnoxious Melissa Lily Chase…”

 With that, the broken redhead turned away and started sobbing all-out into her hands, her limbs shaking with every loud sob echoing from her body. She could feel the burn of hot tears rushing down her face, dripping from the tip of her nose onto her bed. Between every choked sob, she tried to take some breaths as if to calm herself, but all attempts failed as the tears kept on coming.

 With every sob Melissa let out, Zack could feel his heart sink a little more. There was a part of him who still couldn’t believe this. How long had Melissa been keeping these feelings at bay? Did she really think that badly of herself just for being worried about Milo? His mind raced with questions, but he honestly couldn’t give less of a damn about getting the answers. All that mattered to him was giving support to someone who very badly needed it.

 Without hesitation, Zack gently put his arms around Melissa’s back, gently rubbing her side with one hand and stroking her hair with the other. It took a moment for Melissa to register what Zack was doing, but the moment she did, she felt her muscles gently ease up at the feeling of his warm embrace. She could still feel her cheeks and nose wet from all the crying she’d been doing, and flushed a little in embarrassment. “I, uh…” she tried to break the silence, “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.” “You don’t need to apologize,” Zack told her gently, “I just wonder why you hadn’t spoken up about your feelings before. Milo’s an understanding guy, he’d be happy to listen to your worries.” “I just…” she sniffled, “I just don’t want Milo to start worrying about what goes on in my head all the time…and I don’t wanna seem like a controlling bitch.” Without warning, Zack put a hand over her mouth the moment she said the word “bitch”. He turned Melissa around to look at him and looked intently into her eyes, and spoke his mind.

 “Listen to me, Melissa. You are not a ‘bitch’. You have never been a bitch. You’re worrying yourself that you’re a terrible person because you actually want what’s best for Milo! There’s nothing wrong with that. I know Milo is fine with the way things are but if you’re not, that’s completely okay. We may not be able to change Murphy’s Law, but we’ll always be able to help Milo throughout everything, and I know that cuz you’ve been doing that for seven years now, and I know you can keep doing that.” He gave her the warmest smile he could manage, despite the fact he now had tears of his own welling up in his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with being scared, Melissa – as long as you don’t let it change who you are.”

 In that moment, both 13-year-olds found themselves gazing into one another’s tearful eyes. Then, without another word, Melissa got closer to Zack and collapsed into his arms, wrapping her arms around his back. It didn’t take long for Zack to return the embrace, rubbing her back gently to soothe her emotions. They stayed there, in silence, for what felt like hours. Neither of them said a word. They didn’t have to, not right now at least. All they needed right now was right in front of them.

 After so long of being locked in that embrace, Melissa pulled back a little, wiping one more tear from her face, before gently cupping her hands around Zack’s own face and tilted his head up so their eyes could lock once more. Both of them smiled tenderly as the tension that was in their minds evaporated.

Of course, there was just one more thing Melissa felt the need to say…

 “Hey,” she whispered, getting Zack’s full attention. She now moved her hands down to gently clasp his own, and gave him a soft smile, grateful for all of what he’d done for her, not just today but in all the time they’d spent together in the past. She took one more deep breath as if to mentally prepare herself, and spoke the three magic words.

 “I love you.”

 There was a brief moment where Zack felt surprised, but that quickly gave way to an indescribable feeling of happiness, and it didn’t take long for him to respond.

 “I love you too.”

 Without hesitating for a moment, the tomboyish nerd and the dorky jock soon embraced one another in a long, soft kiss, tears of joy now streaming down their faces. Zack brought a hand up to gently caress Melissa’s cheek while Melissa put her arms around his back, deepening the kiss further.

 Once they needed to break for oxygen, the two gently separated their lips, still having their noses touching. Suddenly a knock sounded at the door, and both of them flushed a bit before scrambling off each other – but they were still smiling widely after their passionate love display. The door opened and revealed Mr. Chase with a large cup of tea in hand. “Here you go, sweetie,” he spoke, bringing it over to his daughter, “I made you some tea. See if it helps your stomach.” “Thanks, Dad,” Melissa giggled a little in response. Zack couldn’t help blushing a little at how adorable he found that little laugh of hers. Mr. Chase now thought back to earlier and cringed a little, “I heard what sounded like vomiting earlier. Isn’t that your first time? I hope everything’s okay.” Melissa gave an awkward shrug, “It was scary at first, but…it wasn’t so bad. Especially since Zack was with me.” A sincere smile crossed her face, as she looked over at her best friend-turned-boyfriend, then at her loving father. “I know it sounds weird, but…this has been one of the happiest days I’ve had in a long time. Thank you both, so much. I’m so glad I have you both and Milo and everyone else in my life.” Zack and Mr. Chase now both brought Melissa into a group hug, and the former Lumberzack gently thanked her himself, “And thank you for being in ours.”

The End

[leftsidebonfire]

I've been brainrotting about the fankids and how the guys would be like as dads for the past few days fjebddb

Sanji would be such a good father! I think at first he'd be hesitant to have kids of his own because he doesn't want to risk them getting any of the manipulated Vinsmoke genes. Insisting that all their kids could just be Unaek and Luffy's. But he does come around to the idea and let me tell, this man will cry the day his first daughter is born. He'll cry every time they have a kid! But the very first time, he'll just be a complete mess!

And from then on he'll be the most dotting father! He'll cut the crusts off of sandwiches (feeding the crust to Luffy to not waste them ofc). He'll braid their hair. Set up little tea parties. Let the girls do his hair and paint his nails no matter how messy.

Meanwhile, Luffy will be more rough and tumble with the kids. He'll take them outside to play in mud. They'll make a fort together somewhere in a tree. He'll show them all the best places to find cool bugs, and much to Sanji's displeasure, bring them back home to show off

I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS!!!

As far as birth order, I feel like they'd have Delphi or Ace first. But I kinda like older sister vibes so I would say

Delphi

Ace

Liatris

Rosie

They didn't mean to alternate between the guys but it just kinda worked out that way

Sanji would be an absolute mess through the birth but he'd be really sweet to Unaek whenever she was pregnant and he would talk to her belly a lot. And the first time she delivers the baby, he's practically panicking more than her, and LUFFY of all people is the calm one. Sanji almost passed out. But when he comes to and gets to hold baby Delphi, he just WEEPS.

Sometimes on dark nights he wuestions of he'd be a good father, like he's afraid he's going to snap and abuse them or something but Unaek tells him that's silly. She knows he'd never do that. She hugs him and promises she would never let him go down that path.

Sanji is definitely the type who would show up to work or visiting with the Sunny crew with bright pink and blue eyeshadow and his hair in pigtail tufts because his kids wanted to "dress him up" for work and make him pretty and he wears it with pride 😭😭

[jeannereames]

Referring to your fictionalized versions of Philip of Alexandros:

How do you imagine Philip feels about Alexandros? At what age did Alexandros start clashing with him? Is there jealousy? Please explain how you see Philip's feelings about his son.

The idea of Philip as jealous of Alexander is largely a fiction of modern scholarship and really, modern fiction writing, specifically Renault who, in Fire from Heaven, implies in a few places that Philip is jealous of Alexander’s closeness to his mother as part of the Oedipal Complex she has going on (and which I find anachronistic and ahistorical).

In contrast, the idea that Alexander was jealous of his father’s success goes back, at least, to ancient sources, but you’ll look in vain, in ancient sources, for the suggestion that Philip was jealous of Alexander. (Lucian might be an exception, in his “Dialogues of the Dead,” but of course, those are fictional, and in them, Philip mostly sets himself up as better than his son because that’s Lucian’s assessment: ATG wasn’t so great.)

The idea that Philip would be jealous of Alexander is entirely hindsight; Philip would have had no way of knowing, while alive, that his son would eventually eclipse him, historically. Being jealous assumes one has a reason to be so…and he didn’t have one. One might get a hint that he was considering setting him aside…but that’s mostly implied by Plutarch and if you read carefully and can detangle Plutarch’s Greek misunderstanding of Macedonian inheritance, it’s clear that wasn’t true either.

So, I wanted to establish that before going into my own views.

In my own characterization, I see Philippos as a proud but largely distant parent for most of Alexandros’s childhood. He was away a lot, and didn’t have a particularly close relationship with his own father, Amyntas, to know how to BE a father. Much of what he knew about Alexandros came from other people’s reports: nurse, tutors, and yes, Olympias too. He wanted a healthy, smart heir, and Alexandros would’ve fit that bill. And I DO see him as very much keeping up with his kids, even if they don’t know as much. See the little short story, “For the Love of Geometry” for some insight into Philip keeping up with his son.

My Philippos is disappointed Alexandros doesn’t look more like him. I think all parents hope to see something of themselves in their children, especially important in antiquity for fathers, as it helped confirm the baby was theirs. So Philippos is always looking for evidence that Alexandros is his son, as he looks A LOT like his mother, and her family. Hephaistion points out the nose, but I think of Alexandros’s inheritances from Philip being more ephemeral: his overall health and ability to heal quickly, his physical strength, his gift for strategy. But he doesn’t look like him.

Alexandros and Philippos have different temperaments. Philippos is an extrovert. Alexandros has some introverted tendencies. Philippos likes rough-and-tumble, whereas Alexandros isn’t as keen on it. Philippos likes a good drinking song, Alexandros makes music on the lyre (imagine a dad who loves his Hank Williams, Jr. with a son who wants to be a concert pianist). Philippos likes sex; Alexandros does too but is picky (again, imagine the man who likes dirty talk in bed versus the son who’s turned off by it). Yet they share hot-headedness. And Philippos is extremely smart and shrewd, so he does appreciate Alexandros’s brains. The fact he hired Aristoteles as personal tutor certainly doesn’t suggest he wants a dumb brute for a son. But all that sets up a failure of shared interests, outside of war itself. Neither of them quite “gets” the other.

Philippos’s own uncertain/insecure childhood resulted in problems for him as an adult: he had to grow up fast and spent a lot of his younger years terrified for his life; he has a very difficult time trusting (he keeps a lot of his plans to himself until they’re ready to implement); and he was frustrated a lot so grew into “anger management issues.” As king and commanding officer, he’s also used to being obeyed without backtalk. Add to this, in antiquity (really, until quite recently) physical punishment (spankings, etc.) was typical. So Philippos occasionally lets his temper get away from him and not only spanked, but slapped, hit, or beat Alexandros. By ancient standards, he’s actually not that bad—but Alexandros is quite sensitive to it. When he’s not already stressed, Philippos does understand reasoning with Alexandros is more effective.

Making it worse, Alexandros’s native intelligence and excitable nature means he’s not especially tractable. As a little boy, like most children, he does want to please his parents. I see him as “difficult” from 3-5ish, as many young boys can be, with that first rush of testosterone. He was BUSY, didn’t sit still well, and was one of those “No!” kids at 3. (The terrible twos is really the terrible threes.) But then, around 6/7 he mellowed out and up to 10/11, I see him as a very sweet, pleasant child, doing his best to make everybody happy and rising to the strict demands of his tutors. Philippos has fond memories of Alexandros at that age, although he didn’t understand why Alexandros kept to himself so much. He worried his mother was making him haughty—and he wasn’t entirely wrong. Because Alexandros was pretty much good at everything, and his mother praised him for it, towards the end of this period, he did start to get a big head…even while a lack of praise from Philippos (who doesn’t do affirmation much) made him insecure.

Around 11/12, Alexandros started getting the tween hormones kicking in, and that, combined with the slightly big head, led to minor clashes like the Boukephalas incident. Philippos looked on it with more amusement than resentment. Assuming we can take any of the details at face value, the, ‘Are you going to put your money where your mouth is?’ (e.g., will you buy the horse if you can’t tame him?) response from Philippos when Alexandros challenges him strikes me as an attempt at a “Teaching Moment.” Alexandros did manage the horse, but Philippos also let him try; he didn’t just shut him down. To me, that says a lot about him as a father. Alexandros clearly saw it as a bit of an “I-told-you-so” victory, but Philippos let it happen. If he’d been overly concerned about his own ego, Alexandros would have been scolded and punished for arrogance, not given a chance to earn himself a horse. But Alexandros wants/needs a lot more frank praise and reassurance than Philippos is willing to give him, or got himself as a boy. Back to different temperaments.

This is more or less where they are when Becoming starts. A big chunk of that book really deals with Alexandros coming into his own, away from Mom and Dad. (“Boarding school” can be hell for some kids but works well for others. I think it mostly worked well for Alexandros.)

It’s in Rise where Alexandros really begins to “act out.” From Philippos’s point of view, taking the army north—alone—against the Getai was a stupid move that could have got him killed. Naming a hill fort after himself is just the cherry on top. But Philippos’s response shows he doesn’t know how to properly discipline Alexandros; it just humiliates him and makes him worse.

Alexandros wants to be trusted more, but Philippos, who learned distrust young, is reluctant to do that, so he can’t share confidences easily. About the only person who knows most of what Philippos is thinking, is Parmenion—and he earned it slowly.

Alexandros and Philippos’s worse clashes occur when Alexandros is 15-19/20…which is exactly when teen boys are so difficult. I had my own; I know. You just hope, some days, they don’t get themselves killed so they can grow out of it. My Philippos had that thought a lot. Alexandros was clever, talented, full of himself, and striving to become his own person against the backdrop of a stupid-successful father…so he was a little shithead sometimes. Philippos was just trying to stay alive at that age. It makes him impatient when Alexandros acts the way a teenaged boy would normally act.

The tragedy of Philippos and Alexandros is that Philippos died right around the time Alexandros finally starts to get his feet under him and show greater maturity. He’s still idealistic and arrogant (as the very last line of Rise should suggest), but he’s not constantly kicking against the goads the way he was even a few years before. He’s about to get a crash course in just how brilliant his father was. 😉

(Of the random, and somewhat ironically given his name, I could see the actor Philip Alexander as a young Philippos. He was supposed to have been very good looking as a young man. The nose is too fine but otherwise, not a bad match. Yes, the actors eyes are green, but we don’t actually know what color eyes Philip had. It’s usually assumed both eyes and hair were brown, but nothing says so.)

[mz-elysium]

vtm: wormwood ; clan bingos of povs

[link to blank bingos]

Monroe

Ashley

Hawthorne

Charlie

Jack

Lex

Masika (new!)

rest of the bingos and commentary under cut bc uh this got kinda long lmao

Monroe

ofc Monroe got a bingo. God Complex might be strong, but definitely Saviour Complex. Does wayy too much shit. Also, had a weird bit where he genuinely had quite a bit of respect for LaCroix as an enemy...before he was killed. Shame. Also, had a lot in common, as disgraced childer of unsuccessful military backgrounds.

Hard no’s: *claps hands*, Loyalty > Approval (Monroe not-so-secretly craves being admired), Owns a Crown (but he DOES own a sword...), Undisputed (uh yeh, very in dispute)

Ashley

b-b-bingo. Maybe a bonus bingo, since he does eat food in text sometimes, but I never gave their char sheets merits. 

Hard Yes: Red Lipstick (any colour, dark or sparkly preferred), Never Makes Art (comically useless at it), Siren, Narcissm, Would Sparkle, Anne Rice (literally Spike and Lestat)

Hard No: Humanity 8 (cackles in Humanity 4, which is him on an upswing), Rotten at the Core (...maybe, but he does have some redeeming factors)

Hawthorne

Unsurprised that she got no bingo, and was denied by Leather Jacket! ahh loser. Atypical Brujahs don’t get bingos. Urban Ventrue ghouls don’t make good Brujahs, who figured.

Hard No: Leather Jacket, Motorcycle, Good Music Ended in the 90s (um, actually the 80s, but she would listen to almost anything), Respects Smiling Jack, Brawl 5 (not anymore), Bros Before Sects/Obvious Anarch (fuck the Anarchs)

Charlie

Bingo, and not even a free-space one. Probably the hardest one to fill out, though. Charlie’s Cobweb radar is decent and she can sorta make sense of it sometimes or use it to harvest info, but never that useful.

Also, her Great Ideas are mostly unrelated to her Malkavianisms and mostly due to just being a wiseass and smart guy.

Hard Yes: Paranioa, PREMONITION, “Did anyone else hear that?”, Don’t “ugh, a Malkavian” me!

Secretly, she likes that Bedlam calls her a fish. She knows its true. She just grew legs one night and crawled out onto the shores, but she has a natural habitat somewhere that she can’t go back to. Not that anyone wants to hear stuff like that.

Jack

Jack’s earliest drafts were Brujah and that might still show a bit. He’s not as rough and tumble wilderness dude. More City Gangrel. He has the leather jacket and wants a motorcycle.

But he is a dirt boy animist and part-time rock sorcerer in love with his shapechanges, so maybe he’s Gangrel enough.

Hard No: No Driving License, Becketts (Jack never knew Beckett enough, but he would probably be put off by his obnoxious snide British-isms), Smells Funny (he bathes!), Survival 5

Hard Yes: DONT pet me (sore spot, as a Gangrel), Wants a House in the Woods (kinda has that...), Hell yeah NATURE

Lex

Ahhh, a better Brujah gets better shapes and multi-bingos AND doesn’t need the free-space. Such a Brujah. Very Brujah. Too poor for a new leather jacket and probably burned their old one 8yrs ago.

Hell No: Surprisingly High Humanity (middling, at best), Quotes Philosopher (you kidding me, they can barely quote themself), Motorcycle (lives in SOMA)

Hell Yes: Everything is Political (risks them friendships), Fuck off (just...everyone), Band T-shirt, Good Music Ended in the 90s, Starts Combat, Obvious Anarch (see above)

Masika

New POV. A very Tremerey Tremere, apparently. Very excite about her.

Hell Yes: Smartass (more of a deadpan), Getting Lost (new girl!), Secret Reads (probably, but more of a Discworld and Dark Tower girlie), Absolutely Terrified of Fireball (zero combat exp), SUSPICIOUS (fellow Tremere are always up to something, but not her!), Misses the Pyramid (Tremere loyalist)

Hell No: Oops, Forgot to Ward (never forgets, never oops), Secretly Wants a Gargoyle (a WARCRIME? a breaking of the sacred montmartre pact??? never!), Guilty of Most Things (has never done anything wrong in her entire life)

[writingreadingdaydreaming]

please do tell us more about redders/freddie

Most of the ideas are surrounding the kids ngl-

Still I can walk you through the family and if you have any questions you can just ask! (You’ll also have to remember this isn’t the main AU, in the main AU Redders is a trans alpha and Freddie is a queer cis alpha). Also for the sake of ease I’m just gonna say now that all of their children are betas.

So Daisy and Lily are twin girls. They were born in 2006 through surrogacy as this was way before Freddie and Jamie even met. Also another idea tied to this is that their surrogate was none other than Mr Robert Folwer, who was on a career break at the time (in real life I think he was at Man City at this point but SHHHHHH). But yeah, they’re twins and they’re the oldest. Lily is a very feminine ‘girly girl’ who does ballet while Daisy is the opposite, quite a ‘tomboy’ and plays football in the Liverpool women’s U18 team.

Freddie and Jamie then obviously met and fall in love at this point we just don’t have a set year they met or anything 🤣

Hollie is then born in 2014. Another little girl, Freddie - obviously still have the ability to have children despite being an alpha - carries and gives birth to her (she was also born in a car cause Freddie was a stubborn bastard who kept undermining his contractions-). She was a totally planned pregnancy. She’s much like Lily, quite traditionally girly. She’s Freddie’s little double, with the same blonde hair and eyes as him.

And finally, the only boy in the siblings, baby Aspen. He was born in 2017. Freddie once again carried him but he was… let’s just say a happy little accident baby :). He’s the only child that wasn’t planned but he’s still just as loved of course. He also takes on a lot of Freddie’s features like his older sister, Hollie, and has beautiful long blonde hair that he doesn’t like having shorter than shoulder length. He’s a real rough-and-tumble kid. He also loves cooking and baking, and tries to do as much as he can as soon as he can reach the countertop.

That’s the T4T Redders/Freddie family dynamic! If you have any questions you know where to go!

[sevenciircles]

@bliitzo asked: 💕 for millie x blitz

you shall have ur very long answer under the cut! this is of course headcanon!

How did they meet? I really like the idea of Millie being the babysitter for Loona that Blitz hired while he was in Greed. She probably impressed him with supreme killing skills later down the line though.

Who flirted with who first? Blitz flirted with Millie.

Was it love at first sight or a slowburn romance? Slowburn, but not like, an eternity. They both are aware they like each other, it's just a figuring out terms/circumstances that work for them.

Did they start dating right away or were they friends before things became romantic? They were friends for a while before things became romantic!

What was their first date? Their first official date was probably down to Wrath where they rode horses. Millie knows people fruqblebv.

What are their favourite things to do on date nights? Overall probably just be in each other's company! They've been together as friends/not dating but really dating for so long that anything is fun. They probably have a soft spot for takeout and movies though.

Do they still go on dates after being together for a while? Definitely!

What is their love language? Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, and Acts of Service.

Who kissed who first? Millie kissed Blitz first.

Who started the relationship? They both did, technically. They probably had a talk where they fully processed their feelings and established what was going to happen bc Millie adores communication.

Monogamy or Polyamory? Polyamory!

Are they/do they plan on getting married? Nope! They are probably happy just dating! They don't need a piece of paper for their unique situation.

Who proposed? Was it a yes or no? None of them did, but they've probably faked it to get free desserts at restaurants.

Do they want kids? Who brought it up first? Not together, probably. Loona exists already and that's perfectly fine for Millie! Octavia probably joins in too.

Do they already have kids, together or from previous relationships? Blitz has a kid, Loona, so Millie already kinda became a womanly influence/figure in her life. Octavia also probably ends up in there.

Do they have any routines/rituals in their relationship? I can both see them having a designated date night where it's just the two of them, where they go on various dates. They also probably have long weekends worked out where they go on longer trips.

How do they take care of each other when they are sick/hurt? Blitz is definitely a smotherer, he's doing everything for Millie despite her insisting she's fine and can do it herself. Millie is a bit more chill about it, but she stays by his bedside and gets him things all the same. Is probably a hypocrite because she makes him sit down and not do things either sfbprfl.

How do they like to spend time together? On dates or killing people, sometimes both. They like casual activities where they both don't have to dress up a lot/deal with stuffy manners. Could be mud wrestling, playing games, or popcorn fights. Cooking or baking together also probably turns into a mess.

What are their favourite non-sexual forms of intimacy? Shoulder rubs! Or just cuddling together while watching movies.

What are some of their favourite things about their partner? Millie likes Blitz's personality, like it is just so attractive to her. He's funny, rough and tumble, sensitive, protecting and caring. She also likes his horns, they are perfect for weapons playing with. Blitz probably likes Millie's deadliness and her desire to protect others a lot. He also probably finds her just general attitude and positivity adorable. She's a ride or die and he needs it lmao.

How do they comfort the other when they are upset? Millie will cook food for Blitz or get him ice cream and just be there for him, likely encouraging him to talk. Blitz would probably hug Millie or some other act of physical affection, while threatening to take out whoever made her upset.

Who buys the other spontaneous gifts? Blitz

What position do they sleep in? They end up tangled up together. no matter what position they fall asleep in. Their tales probably intertwine.

Do they bathe/shower together? Occasionally, not all the time. Sometimes blood is better off not being washed off together.

Do they do anything else in the bath/shower other than wash? Yepppp.

In the bedroom - Vanilla, a little spice, or kinky af? Kinky af. Probably things that would make an adult film star flush.

For applicable ships - who tops/bottoms? TOSS UP! They rock, paper, scissors for it or some other stupid competition. It can go either way.

For applicable ships - who is more dominant/submissive? Again, a toss up. Could go either way. But in terms of overall... I'd say Blitz slightly is more dominant.

What is their favourite sex position? Whatever makes use of Blitz's circus flexibility and Millie's strength most likely.

Do either of them enjoy bringing sex toys into the bedroom? Yes. They probably have a whole ass toy chest.

Favourite place to have sex? The bedroom, bathtub sex is also fun too. Can't go wrong with quickies in the closet.

Most adventurous place they’ve had sex? Millie's blown him under his desk while meeting with a client, if that counts.

How often do they fight? What about? I can imagine fights do happen, mainly when Blitz tends to begin the self sabotage and Millie tries to nip it in the bud. I imagine they solve it fairly quickly, but they can get intense for a while considering they are both passionate people.

Have they ever broken up? Nope, they worked out all the messy things in their friendship/when they were still defining what they were.

Messy breakup, amicable split, remain friends, ride or die or til death do us part? Ride or Die!

[no-droids]

Home

gif credit: @javier-pena

Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

Warnings: SMUT, religion kink (maybe?), squirting, consensual stalking/pursuing, canon-typical violence, mention of underage drinking, uhh I believe that’s it but as always, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything please!

A/N: Hey yall!!!  So I know this chapter has been a long time coming and though I’m not completely satisfied with it, I hope it brings a little happiness to you for an hour or two while you read!  School has been kicking my ass and I’ve been in a bit of an emotional slump recently, but I pulled a few all-nighters to post this on time and it’s finally finished!  Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and sent me encouraging words over the past month or so, I hope you enjoy the end of the Sanctuary arc💕

Also like last time, part 2 of my collaboration with @followwhereshegoes will be posted after the chapter!!  As a reminder, sweet girl is a reader insert and every imagining of her will be different—this is Lisa’s interpretation of her and her artwork is absolutely gorgeous, so please go give her a follow!

Day 5–11:13am:

You zone out again in the early morning, but that happens a lot.  Din always keeps you up so late, all the time, and without any caf here, the rising sun just makes your eyes droop instead of flutter brighter and wider.  You helped a bunch of younglings find their way into their robes when it was still dark out, tying sashes and fitting masks while holding back your yawns.  The walk into Nariss is close to three hours, probably more with all these tiny little legs, and you almost forget to change into your new digs before everyone grabs breakfast.

Even though your ragtag entourage leaves for Nariss just as soon as everyone finishes eating, you don’t reach the city until nearly lunchtime.  Mostly because the kids walk about as fast as the elderly holy women chaperoning the trip.  You and Naydee lag behind the group, forcing yourself to meander slow as fuck when you nearly sprinted this same exact path just a few days ago.  On the way there, you listen to children of all sorts sing happily as they walk, chatter about their excitement for the parade, complain about wearing the fabric mask they made themselves, and more than once, somebody takes a tumble onto the ground and is left in teary sniffles and dirt stained clothes.  Likely for this reason, the robes are designed to be two pieces—a long tunic with a hood and a separate pants portion to prevent tripping instead of a draping skirt, but the smallest ones are clumsy and find a way to fall anyways.

It’s a colorful bunch—a chaotic rainbow of babies running around, and you share easy conversation with your new friend about the plans for the day until she asks something that makes you nearly trip and join the dirty robe club.

“Sister Drya said your family is meeting you in the city,” she tells you, ignoring your immediate subtle toe stub and the awkward shuffle you have to do to make up for it.  “There’s going to be lots of people downtown, I’m worried it might be hard for them to find you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel a bit short of breath at being abruptly confronted with the need to lie, but at the same time, you kind of love it.  Having a secret, hiding the truth from others, and just the reminder that you’re almost guaranteed to see Din and the baby before midnight pours warmth and tingles through your tummy.  Everything together is a hit of spice, filling you with a kind of excitement that used to be foreign to you.  Having fun, experiencing new things isn’t quite over yet, but home is calling and you miss it with every fiber of your being.

“I don’t think so,” you eventually respond, hoping she can see your kind smile and the sentiment it carries even as light, shimmery fabric wraps right around your mouth.  “If I disappear, you’ll know why.”

Naydee’s eyes crinkle in the corners to match yours.  “Hopefully you’ll be able to see the fireworks first,” she nudges you, her skin glowing against the pale cream fabric she has wrapped around her own mouth and the hood laying delicately over her braids.  “They start at eight.”

The fireworks, you almost forgot.  You know what?  Today is a good day.  You hear yourself think the full sentence multiple times, and the words put a spring in your step after every single one.  The road gradually becomes wider and filled with more travelers, and you feel safe in the back.  Like some kind of sheepdog bringing up the rear of this migrating cluster of children, making sure none of them drift off by themselves and start eating grass or something.

Surprisingly, the kids manage to be relatively patient and well-behaved once they’re in line at the gates.  The Sisters shuffle them along one by one as everyone moves up slowly, taking even longer to get into the city than it did a few days ago.  The entrance is packed already—so many people visiting for the festival, and they’re all dressed in costumes or robes of sorts, or at least a mask.  Most are beautifully crafted, but some manage to look slightly scary even with the soft springtime color schemes.  It’s a completely different world, a different life for each person as you pass them by.  Your stomach is starting to growl by the time you finally make it to the front, and luckily the guards just let the kids through without any ceremony.  Just you and the rest of the caretakers in light robes need to hold still for the retinal scan, matching each other perfectly except for differing shades of fabric, skin, and eye color.  Once the gates open for you and you step through, though… it’s… Maker.

Extravagant, magnificent are both words.  Floral is another.

It’s like they hung up bouquets wherever they could think to fit them, and this is just the edge of the city.  As the group moves through the streets and closer to downtown, it becomes more and more overwhelming.  The air itself is a warm fragrance wafting all around you, sunshiney and breezy and perfect, flowers of all kinds lining the modern buildings and archways like they were planted there from the very beginning and it just took this long to bloom between the cracks in the concrete.  You wish you had names for all of them so you could list them—the only thing you can offer is the color and vague descriptions of the ones that stick out to you.  Tiny yellow ones that are so small, they need to be bunched all together in massive quantities to even resemble normal flowers.  Up overhead, elaborate arrangements of enormous blue and purple and pink ones, wrapping around each other and hanging down from rooftops.  Some don’t even have petals, it’s like they’re big green cups that are big enough to hold things inside them.  You’re fascinated by every single one, wanting to stop and smell them all individually but needing to keep up with the large group and not allow any stragglers to be left behind, including yourself.

About an hour later, when you’re almost in the middle of the city and there are people everywhere, it’s time to eat lunch.  There isn’t much to it because of how expensive it is, and you’d normally feel bad for accepting the small meal each one of the children gets, but you donated all of your credits to the Keja and left absolutely zero for yourself.  Good intentions, terrible idea.  Still, you pull your mask down and snack on some deliciously fried food, trying not to eye anyone else’s platter after you finish yours.  It’s so good and it’s gone in an instant; you couldn’t even say what exactly it was besides which stall you got it at.  Whether it’s just the brilliant atmosphere or if the food on this moon is really just that good, you’re not really sure, but you’re still slightly hungry afterwards with no extra money to sneak a snack.

Soon after, the kids all line up to get their faces painted, or whatever portion of their face is visible behind the cloth masks and hoods they’ve got on, and music blares from at least four different directions and none of the songs are even in the same language.  Depending on the part of town, it seems like the celebrations are all different.  It makes sense, considering most if not all of these individuals were victims of the Empire’s wrath, spread far and wide across the galaxy.  Here, they’re free, and they want everyone to know it.  Spring festivals of some sort are likely common for most cultures, at least those from planets with seasons, not like Arvala-7 where it was arid and hot year-round, and you’re assuming there are multiple things being celebrated today depending on which street you live on.  There’s chanting in different tongues, dancing and drums, outfits and masks from different cultures every single time you look.

At some point, the children spot a crowded street with flowery rails set up all along them, and you stand behind the tiny heads while everyone waits for the parade to begin.  You think your heart has just been beating slightly faster than normal all day today, but when you finally hear the sound of sirens blaring in the distance and cheers begin to pour out from the gathered crowd, it kicks up and you feel like you’re just as wide eyed at the spectacle as the waist-high babies all huddled together up against the railing.

A flurry of people and things pass in slow succession.  First, New Republic officers with their blaring holobikes, bright orange as always.  Then come large groups of people walking behind banners in languages you can’t read, some of them waving, some of them making different sounds and songs.  Bands marching in formation, dancers in dresses and masks and gorgeous flowers in their hair like crowns, and then brilliant hovering vehicles decorated in bright colors and festive depictions.  The craftsmanship and cultural significance is stunning to witness, it’s so insanely loud, there’s so much going on, and yet…

Through it all, you think of Din.  No matter the faces, the sights you see.  There’s someone juggling.  There’s either a very tall man and woman walking together or they’re both on stilts.  There are enormous balloons being led through the air, people are riding atop an assortment of animals you’ve never seen before, there are traditional costumes and spectacular stunts being performed.  Stalls with games and prizes line the stretches of concrete on the cross streets, people are laughing and celebrating and drinking in equal parts, everything is so lively and festive and fun, and yet, though it all, you think of Din.  Him and the baby, they’re always in the forefront of your mind, occupying your thoughts and making your tummy stir more and more as the time passes like the parade in front of you.  You don’t think this environment would ever be his favorite, and in some far away galaxy, perhaps if you lived other lives together and called a beautiful moon exactly like this home, then you might have to drag him out to see all the with you and the kid every year.  You’d have to bat your eyelashes and kiss his cheek and snuggle up to him all nice and pretty like, and he’d probably grumble and complain about it while wrapping his arms around you—all the people and the noise, sweet girl—but he’d go.  For you, he’d go.

Your thoughts suddenly stop short and you blink for a second.  Why… Why was that scene so vivid?  So wistful?  You used to preoccupy yourself with fantasies about Din all the time, back before you even knew him as Din.  But in every single one, it was sexual and likely came from a place of boredom, a lack of external stimulation.  Here you are amidst bustling surroundings, and you’re daydreaming about domesticity with him.  Why?  You want to travel the galaxy, right?  You want to see things you’ve never seen before, right?

For some reason, you think of the floor, and you miss it.

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

It’s late afternoon at this point and nobody can find the teens.

More people have made their way into the city and it’s starting to get extremely fucking crowded, especially where you are downtown, and the handful of them must’ve slipped away with all the excitement happening and how difficult it is to keep the young ones together now that the parade is over.  You don’t know how long they’ve been gone—one second they were walking around just slightly detached from the rest of you, you assumed because the boisterous younglings fucked with their cool vibe, and then the next Naydee is gasping out to you that they’re gone.

“Sister Drya is going to kill me,” she hisses, her dark eyebrows furrowed in self-admonishment and stress.  So many fucking people here, you know her pain.  “I was supposed to be chaperoning them, they were just here—”

She shakes her head under the loose, cream-colored hood, groaning and then speeding up her gait to catch up with the woman in charge, but you decide to grab her wrist before she can relay the bad news.  

“I can go find them,” you offer, speaking as low as you can with the blaring noise surrounding you.  “Before anyone knows they’re missing.  Is there a way to convince everybody to stay in one spot for a little while?  You won’t get in trouble, but I need to know how to find you again.”

Naydee’s eyes widen in surprise, and even though it’s likely a bit out of character for you, you have a feeling it’ll be a deceptively easy task.  Even with the masses right now and how atrociously big this city is, you already have a general idea of where they’re likely to be.  Besides, you’re not even sure your absence will be noticed if Naydee is the only one who figured out the teens were gone—the other Sisters can thrive without you while missing anyone else would be noticeable, and you owe your new friend a thousand favors for helping you out these past few days.  The least you can do is save her from the scolding of one of the scariest old ladies you've ever met.

“Be as quick as you can,” she finally agrees.  It’s a lot of trust to put into you, but you’ve had experience in reading the most unreadable man in the entire galaxy, some teenagers shouldn’t pose too much of a problem.  “If you’re not back in thirty minutes or somebody notices, I’ll have to say something.”

You nod, silently breaking away from the group without another word.  You think you can hear her announce to everyone that it might be best to eat dinner now to skip any long lines later—smart—but you’re out of their hearing range and line of sight almost immediately.

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

“Really?”  You raise an eyebrow since they won’t be able to see the way your mouth is twisted up underneath your mask, crossing your arms and tapping your foot against the ground to further illustrate just how not fucking impressed you are.

Seven teenagers freeze, and slowly—depending on how much bravery they can individually muster—they turn around on their stools to face you.  The atmosphere in the tavern is bustling and cheery, booze being passed around a large crowd that laughs and mingles, but your vibe is stone cold and quiet.  The contrast doesn’t feel wrong on you like it normally would; the negative and disapproving energy you’re emitting makes you feel powerful, untouchable, armored and strong.

“How did you find us so fast?”  One of the twin boys squeaks out behind a light blue robe, sounding worried.

“Had a hunch,” you grumble, glaring sternly at each of them in turn.  Your tone is dry, your voice sits lower in your throat when you’re pissed off.  All you had to do was look for the closest bar that doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits poking around waiting to card underage younglings, it wasn’t that difficult.  “You’re not exactly unpredictable.”

“Are you gonna rat us out?”  The other twin asks you, in a voice that’s oddly deep compared to his brother.

“I should,” you snap, quickly reaching out to push their drinks away.  “I should let Sister Drya rain down her holy fury on your asses, got good people all twisted up over you for nothing and I’m missing dinn—”

You don’t know why, but you suddenly cut yourself off and jerk upright, spinning around.

The sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices fill the bar, but they seem to fade out for a second.  Your eyes fly around the crowded space, your heart lodged in your throat and looking for anything reflective.  Every flash you see is a false alarm—belt buckle, wristwatch, cocktail shaker—

He’s here… isn’t he?

Only, there’s nothing.  Nothing is out of place, nothing jumps out at you the way you’re assuming it will.  You’re braced taut and ready to bolt at the first sign of a chase, but it never comes.

It’s so… unexpected, this feeling.  It’s not like you’re being hunted anymore, but instead, you’re the hunter.  You’re feeling the weight of him from this far away and it’s like he’s calling for you to come find him, teasing the wild adrenaline rush you get from just feeling his presence, as if he absolutely knows it happens.  Whispering soft in your ear and then vanishing the second you’re able to turn around, like he’s here but he’s not.  Playing with you from so far away.

This… this is a taunt.  

The whole thing at the inn was leagues below this, that was rudimentary.  Teasing, getting even, having fun with each other, whatever you want to call that, that’s what it was.  This is scarily sophisticated.  Fluid and practiced and the best kind of frightening, stark and dangerous compared to the carefree and upbeat setting surrounding you.  You’re not making it up, it’s not just you being paranoid.  You know him with your eyes closed.  You know he’s here somewhere watching you, just like you know the starlight that streaks across the pitch black horizon of hyperspace.  Not because you can see it, not really, not directly.  But because by it, even in the vastest and darkest and emptiest of voids, you’re suddenly able to see everything else.

“You okay, Nerida?”

The volume gradually comes back up and you blink, suddenly remembering where you are, who else is with you.  The chatter becomes slightly louder than it seemed before.

“Yeah,” you eventually say, slightly airy while continuing to stare emptily at the crowded room.  He’s not here, you don’t think, not anymore at least.  But you’re not stupid, you know what this means.  You’re already caught, there’s nothing you can conceivably do that will delay the reunion for the next—you look down and pull the loose sleeve up to check your communicator—seven fucking hours, there’s no way.  He’ll pull back and follow you, keep up with you from a distance and then snatch you away right when you let your guard down.  You at least need to get the kids back to their guardians before that can happen, though.

“Let’s go,” you quietly tell the group of foundlings, grabbing elbows and hauling them out of their stools.  “Naydee was the only one who knew that you were gone when I left.  Here’s to hoping she managed to keep it that way.”

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

Against all odds, you’re able to rally the wayward teens and successfully lead them through shoulders that are beginning to move closer together as the crowd grows and grows.  You stay towards the back and don’t look behind you once—not only do you not want to give the younglings an unnecessary reason to become paranoid or to question your actions, but you can still feel Din lingering.  Moving like a shadow, probably fitting in perfectly with the masked festival-goers, nothing drawing any attention to him with all the spectacular sights and noise occurring.

Soon you return to the same spot from before, and you and the teenagers seamlessly integrate yourselves back into the rest of the group without anyone noticing a thing is out of place.  When you move to stand beside her, Naydee’s bone-deep sigh of relief is palpable even behind the concealing fabric; she squeezes your hand incredibly tight in a silent gesture of thanks, and then pulls something from the deep pockets of her robe and passes it to you sneakily.  A purple fruit.  She must’ve saved it for you.

Maker, fuck yes.  It’s not much but it’s more dinner than any of the seven troublemakers get, but Naydee quietly assures you they’ll be able to eat something once they return to the Keja around midnight, just not the tasty expensive treats they’re selling at the vendors.  As the sun goes down, you try not to stain your pretty fabric a deep maroon as you chomp and feel your lips start to curl upwards.  It sounds so fucking stupid when you put it like this, but you keep going back to Din and revelling in knowing that he’s so close, like you’re just mentally checking in on him.  You don’t get the sensation by thinking, though—more like you just focus really hard on your heart and feel him there just a second afterwards.

Is that how pure, stupid, shameless love feels when you’re completely entrenched in it?  It’s not like it’s surrounding you, it’s not suffocating you or making you float.  It’s just a thing.  Like… a thing inside your chest, a physical thing you can search for and find, something you can point to on your body and say it’s right here, this is where my love for him lives.  Right at the bottom of your heart, right where it curves and beats strong when other hearts meet flat at sharp angles.  You do it over and over again, reconfirming its existence every single time.  You don’t know what else you’d call it.  Love is the only word.  To love, to know.  To hold in the heart.

Soon, you start to notice that people are slowly moving around your stationary group.  You look up and watch the crowd begin to walk, some of them giving soft smiles to the cute children as they pass by, but all of them following the same unspoken direction.

“Where is everyone going?”  You ask Naydee, standing on your tiptoes to watch the crowd migrate like a giant system, an organism or mechanism of thousands (or tens of thousands?) of smaller moving parts all traveling in tandem.  It’s fascinating—you’ve been to crowded places, you know what it looks like when a lot of people are packed into one area, but you’ve never seen what it looks like when they all move together.  They would normally be bumping into each other, slipping in between, fighting and never really getting anywhere, interacting individually and thinking separately.  Now they’re progressing in one single direction, so many with the same mindset and understanding of what comes next.  A second parade, almost, with New Republic officers directing the flow of pedestrians as they pass.

“The eastern part of the city!”  Naydee yells over the noise and points, and beyond her extended finger, you can barely see the light of a dusky body of water in the distance beyond the buildings.  “The fireworks are going to go off over the bay, but it takes awhile to get there!”

“Is…”  You blink for a second, suddenly caught off guard, trying to think back to the holomap the concierge pulled up at the front desk of the inn.  Surely you would’ve noticed it, but your sudden childlike hope makes you ask anyway.  “Is it part of an ocean?”

Naydee shakes her head.  “A really big lake!”

Your shoulders drop just the slightest bit in disappointment but still, you ache to see it.  You can’t even imagine—the fireworks are likely going to reflect across the water, giving everyone double the view.  And luckily, after all the children and caretakers are individually accounted for, you start to behind the slow-moving crowd towards the docks you know lie beyond.  

Naydee scurries ahead to keep the kids together, ushering them forward and preventing any drunk passer-bys from accidentally stepping on them, and you quietly bring up the very rear of the entourage.  You take the time to observe more than anything, walk in the back and experience instead of trailblaze.  So many people, so many stories to be told, so many differences and diversity around you.  Your face is partially concealed and you don’t move your head too much, just your eyes.  They flick around to take in everything, the crowd thinning little by little as you make it out of the confined space downtown.  You’re able to make out full bodies and outfits again instead of just heads and shoulders, allowing you to breathe just a bit easier under your mask.

And then at one point—and it’s almost a little startling because it happens all at once—the organizers must decide that the sun has officially gone down, because the lights come on.  All of a sudden, paper lanterns and bulbs flicker into existence all around you and the world decides it wants to glow, glint and twinkle from the inside out.  They’re everywhere, draping across rooftops and tangled around street signs and stuffed into the flower bouquets overhead, raining soft colors down on everything.  You’re in complete awe, trying to keep walking but also needing to look at as much as fucking possible in the suddenly luminescent city.  It’s so colorful, so vernal and warm and you feel like you’re… Like when you took a shower on the Crest for the first time and spent a few happy moments just playing with the water and soap for your own enjoyment, it’s as if all the brilliant rainbow of colors the bubbles would make under the fluorescent light decided to surround you at the same time.  You’re inside stained glass, blinking at the flowers and wondering if Din can even smell the air or if it’s filtered, processed and reduced to nothing under the helmet.

And that’s when you see him.

But with the way your chest rapidly constricts and you can count your heart beats as they pound, blaring white noise through your ears and adrenaline through your veins, it’s like he's just allowing it to happen.  You immediately understand that you don’t have fucking anything the second your eyes land on him; this isn’t a heads up that you caught wind of early, it’s not a gift or an advantage you’ve incidentally gained over him that you should be thankful for.  Being able to see him directly like this, being able to make out all these fucking details from this far away…  This just feels like you’re being informed of the endgame right before it comes.  If you were anyone else, if you were a real bounty and this was a real hunt, his armor glinting and reflecting the lanterns overhead would feel like a knife you're about to be on the wrong side of.

You have a decision to make, very quickly.  Either keep in this same direction, head straight towards him and just pretend like you are who you’re dressed as, a random caretaker for a bunch of rowdy foundlings during a spring festival on Nariss, or disappear.  Drop back, move through the crowd and use the distance you have between you right now as your only hope of getting away in time.  Neither one gives you a particular advantage—your chances of being caught have already skyrocketed exponentially just being able to see the reflection in his armor, the hovering shield at his side with big black eyes… staring directly at you.

You almost trip over your pantlegs, gasping.  Baby.  He beams at you and you think he calls out through the passing crowd, his tiny arms extending out, and your chest feels like you’re pulling organs as if they were muscles, cramping up and seizing with emotion.  You want to run to them even though you’re meant to be running from them, call out over the noise and wave even though you’re not supposed to.  You want to hold the kid again, squish his little forehead with kisses, walk around with Din’s hand pressed against your lower back and see the fireworks with him.

Your hands clutch at the draping fabric covering your chest, pulling and twisting it uncertainly.  What do you do, what do you do?

No matter what, you know it’s over.  Keep your head down and try to move past him, or break away from your group and try to escape—both are different paths that lead to the same result.  What’s the point of running when he’s the one chasing you?  The heart-pounding thrill is the only reason you’re even considering it, but his body stands so tall amongst the crowd, not moving while people ebb and flow like a river passing around him.

Except then you can hear his voice repeat the last thing he said to you in person as if he says it directly into the comm in your ear.  When you do see me… try to outrun.

You should run—run, it’s better than just hoping he doesn’t see you when you already know he does.

Unless…

Out of a trillion different possibilities, you soon realize that there is exactly one situation in which this could turn out in your favor.  You can immediately picture the scenario in your mind, but there’s just too many variables to conceivably rely on getting them all right.  This maybe has a… two percent chance of working?  Maybe?  Everything would have to go perfectly, just fucking flawlessly, but what other choice do you have?  Two percent is better than whatever odds you’re dealing with now.

You walk silently behind the group of foundlings as you approach closer and closer, keeping your head purposefully down as they skip and giggle and dance ahead.  He knows you’re here—he has to know, you’re counting on him knowing.  Walk right in front of him, pretend like you don’t see, make sure you keep left.  Keep left, keep left, keep your head down, keep your head down—

A leather glove suddenly catches hold of your wrist hard enough to tug you backwards.

Your gasp is audible over the sound of the crowd and you spin around, jerking your head up to look at him in fear.  Your heart slams as the beskar reflects your mask and hood back at you—you’re terrified and it shows, you can see it in your eyes.

You quickly try to yank your hand away, even as your index finger stretches up towards the communicator around his wrist.

“Miss Nerida?”  A child’s voice cries, and then small hands grab at you from behind as you bury the urge to actually fight him.  Your instincts are demanding you attack when his grip is this strong, but you just whine and struggle, slapping weakly at him with your free hand and feeling more of the younglings begin to pull at you, their high pitched voices calling more and more attention to the scene.

Your gaze flicks to the side, suddenly landing on a pair of New Republic officers helping direct the thousands of moving bodies from the closest street corner.  They’re looking at you, pointing and beginning to speak into their own comm units.  Din’s helmet snaps sideways to follow your gaze, and then he’s immediately dropping your wrist and stepping back, retreating as quickly as he caught you.  Though you don’t want to—though you don’t want to give yourself away even more, you want to pretend fully that he was a complete stranger and the children were right to try to help you get away—your eyes fall to your son in the hovering crib by his side and you feel yourself crumble just a bit.

Just a few more hours, kid.  A few more hours.

Children pull you away while your pursuers both disappear into the crowd, and you quickly turn to soothe the tiny babies instead of chasing after the one you miss so terribly.

“I’m alright,” you tell them, scooting them up and encouraging them to continue walking.  Blend in, blend in, don’t let anybody think anything is wrong.  “Come on, we’re fine, come on, we have to catch up.”

They take your lead as soon as one of the caretakers turns around and sees the small group crowding around you.  You think she asks what happened, but you just tell her a man mistook you for someone else and nothing more comes of it.  She’s able to settle the chaos better than you are, and by the time you’re continuing to travel forwards once more like nothing happened, the communicator suddenly flicks on in your ear.

“What did you do?”  He breathes out, his footsteps moving fast through his voice.  He’s traveling much quicker than you expected—is he still being followed?  The officers are gone from your sight, they might be going after him right now, weaving between bodies and calling out to the perpetually vanishing glint of armor as he navigates his way out of danger.

You look down at the comm on your wrist and your heart nearly soars with victory.  It worked.  It worked.  You just have to outlast a bit longer, don’t draw any extra attention to it—he’s preoccupied and he certainly doesn’t sound happy, but you hope that’ll be enough to make him slip.  Use his frustration to your advantage, let him think the only thing you were successful at was momentarily escaping him.

“The cops weren’t part of the plan,” you admit quietly, keeping your head down as your loose hood billows in the twilight breeze.  “Don’t get caught.”

There’s a few moments of just his breathing, his footsteps, and the noise floor humming through the comm, before he finally responds.  “You look beautiful.”

You stare unseeingly down at the concrete under your feet, still feeling your hand tingle from where he caught you.  The line abruptly mutes on his end and you just keep moving forward, onward, wanting to look back but knowing he’s already long gone.

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

He had you.  You were right there, right in front of him, and even if he hadn’t been subtly trailing you all day, seeing the red footsteps get covered and flicker out of existence just a few moments after you make them, he would’ve recognized you anywhere.  In black and white, in the fading light, with your face covered, children calling you by a different name and attaching themselves to you like they’ve known you forever—doesn’t matter, he would’ve known you.  Your eyes have always given you away, always so expressive and starry and soft, but able to see right through solid steel whenever you look at him.

But then you slipped from his grasp, and then more guards pushed him further and further away from you.  They must all be in constant communication, because every single jumpsuit he sees immediately spots him and starts following.  It’s fucking exhausting, and he thinks of you the whole time.

He waits in a dark alley with the kid and taps the side of the helmet a few times to bring up the time on his comm, but then relaxes just slightly when he sees the hour.  It’s earlier than he thought it was, he’ll be able to find you again.

Though, something tugs at him while he’s looking at the clock ticking away in front of his eyes, counting down each second that passes.  There was… a moment.  Back in the square, when he was holding onto you again, when you were looking directly into his once more—everything in his helmet— 

No, he shakes his head while the kid looks up at him curiously, it can’t be.  It was just a split second, it was gone so fast.

But he can’t get rid of it.  Though there’s no explanation, he thinks the display screen flickered.  The sky behind you looked different for a single frame, your footsteps weren’t bright red and visible anymore, your eyes weren’t grey and he stopped wondering what shade of fabric you and your friend decided to choose for you to wear.  It was silvery, he’s almost certain.  Like his armor, it only reflected the color of everything around it.

Color.  Everywhere.  Bursting for a blink of an eye, and then gone just as quick, before he could actually figure out what it really meant.

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

It doesn’t ever really get truly dark thanks to the enormous hanging moon and ringed gas giant dancing with Sanctuary II, constantly reflecting light back onto the surface and reacting with some of the trace chemicals up above the atmosphere, and you think the sky just might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen it.  Must have something to do with the equinox, the glimmering angles of light being played with by celestial bodies in this stunning system, but it’s a dream.  The Maker apparently couldn’t decide which colors he wanted tonight so he just splashed all of them together all at once, let them run and blend like ink in the gentle water below, like the various people who call this moon home.

That view in front of you, coupled with all the flowers and lanterns lining the streets behind you, and you’ve lost track of time the exact same way you hoped Din would.  You think you’ve stood for about an hour or so in this one spot, half-listening to excited chatter from the babies, mostly just gazing across the stretch of water and being able to just barely spot the docks in the distance, but it feels like it’s only been minutes.

You check your watch—the fireworks should be starting any second now.  You don’t know what to expect, just that in your experience, explosions tend to be loud.  You've decided you’re not going to plug your ears, though.  Tummy twisting with nerves and another inexplicable feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, you resolve to experience the unknown exactly the way it’s meant to be.  Fully, without worry or fear.

Then, lacking any warning or ceremony whatsoever, a single flare launches silent and high from one of the small boats skimming the bay, and the crowd seems to hold its collective breath as the dim light disappears into thin air for a split second, before—

It’s… quite possibly the most dazzling thing you think you’ve ever seen.  So shamelessly decorative just for the sake of it, not serving any other practical purpose besides celebration and visual spectacle, and you’ll probably never know another extravagance like it.  You grew up with dust pelting against tired eyes, you never thought they’d get to reflect such gorgeous bursts of color back up at the sky, glassy and childlike amongst a group of equally wide-eyed children.

As expected, a deafening boom follows closely behind the singular display, but just witnessing it is incredible enough to make you forget to brace yourself for the sound and you jump almost violently in response.  There comes a loud cheer from the people standing around you, a few delighted gasps and children who decide now is the best time to start crying, but then more flares begin to launch from the boats and the subsequent show will sear itself into your memory to replay over and over again.

Still, you think the endless sky and dark water below would have to light on fire to stop him from coming to mind.

Din.

You click the comm on, continuing to stare in stunned awe but wanting nothing more than to hear his voice right now, feel his hand rest on your lower back and the kid’s three fingers squeezing one of yours while the stars rain down from above.  You’re only continuing to run from him because it’s expected of you, that’s the reason you’re here, but it’s becoming harder and harder to argue with yourself.  “Do you always see in black and white?”

It takes him just a few seconds to respond, but he always does.  “Only when I’m tracking someone.”

The loud booms can be heard over the earpiece, happening maybe a second after they crack and sparkle above you.  You can’t tell if the latency is due to the electronics or if he’s just that far away from the source of the sound itself, but… you don’t think he is.  He feels close again, like he could just walk up right next to you any second, or maybe that’s just how he always feels now.

“Does that mean you haven’t seen the sky here?”  You ask after a moment.  This whole time, everything has been grey for him?

“I saw it,” Din murmurs, and even though it’s quiet and explosions are thundering loud enough to deafen more sensitive ears, his quiet voice somehow breaks through it all.  “When you left the Crest, I saw it behind you.”

For some reason, you suddenly feel like crying.  Whether it’s the way he phrases it or the sentiment in the words, you’re close to tears without even knowing why, looking up at the sky illuminating spectacularly.  He says it like he wasn’t the one who parked on this moon and told you to go on without him.  “Can you… turn it off for just a second?”

He takes a second, before clarifying for you.  “I turn it off and I lose your footprints.”

So that was the ultimatum.  He doesn’t want to turn it off until you’re back with him again.  Does he not understand?  Does he not know what you know?  Maybe you just happened to feel it first, this overwhelming physical sensation inside you whenever you think about him.  It’s like the exact opposite of a hole in your chest.  And it’s so odd, so counterintuitive.  Being comforted in his absence, feeling him with you when he isn’t.  Falling in love in the dark, knowing him without ever seeing him.

“You never needed them,” you say, reaching up to pull your mask down under your jaw and chin for a moment, wanting to freely breathe the freshwater and flowers while stars explode and fracture across the sky.  It’s a truth you’re acknowledging, something you’ll carry with you, something you fundamentally own at this point.  “You’d find me without the helmet.  And I’d find you.”

The fireworks continue to bleed into the water beneath them, multicolor splashes rippling into existence and disappearing just as quick.  You could’ve never imagined a more colorful, magnificent landscape—besides your waterfall on Naboo, of course.  That was a pure product of nature though, a place hidden away and untouched by people, completely sacred.  Light refracting against mist, natural glass that would shatter under your weight.  This is a celebration of life and family.  Loud in a different way, affecting you in a different way, but just as wonderful and touching.  A cultivated paradise, designed to be beautiful and safe only because they wanted it to be.

“Think so?”  He asks softly.  He sounds so deep and warm, but… a little distant.  You’re able to hear it in his words.  You don’t know why, though.  Doesn’t he believe you?  Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t The Way.  Perhaps this is part of a completely different oath, one where knowing and loving somebody isn’t the same thing as looking at their face, not at all.  Where you can have them exist entirely separate from each other, because this is love.  This is real, enduring, bone-deep love, and you haven’t ever seen his face, so how would he explain that?  How would the Mandalorians reconcile that?  You bear the mark of the mudhorn, you’ve moved through time and space with him, you’re a mother to his son, and you’ve never seen his face.  It defies both the Mandalorian oath and traditional understandings of love, or it meets them right in the middle, depending on how you look at it.

“I know so.”  For the first time, you think you might sound more confident and certain than he does.  Maybe he doesn’t fully get it yet, but then you suppose he’ll just have to trust you.  “Will you look at the sky?”

“I see it,” Din tells you, but you know he doesn’t.  Not the way you want him to.  And stars, you just want so many things for him, don’t you?  The sky, fresh air, water, light, food, rest.  You want him to see the galaxy the way you do—have a new appreciation for the gifts that are given just because you’re alive to experience them.  All the physics and mathematics aligned perfectly for it to happen—all the chemistry, the systems, the dynamics that dictate the universe, they all got together and crafted a world where you, him, and the kid all exist together at the same time.  You want him to know the significance of that.

“With color?”  You ask, knowing his answer before he seems to.

“I…”  Din wants to argue, or at least say it again.  He can’t or he’ll lose you, he already told you he doesn’t want to turn the setting off.  It’s such an unnecessary conflict, but you want to respect it so much that you’re willing to give up things of your own to make it happen.

“How do I fix it then?”  You whisper, so desperately wanting this one thing for him, this one grandeur to behold.  How do you fix this problem?  How do you convince him to look with you?  You’d offer to just go and find him instead of continuing to run away for the next few hours, but you know the show will be over soon and you don’t have much time left.  “Do you want me to come look for you?  It’ll be too late by then, you’re too far away.  Look at the sky.”

It’s silent for a moment—truly silent, even though colorful bombs are going off above the bay.  You don’t know why you’ve attached yourself to this so strongly, but it’s almost devastating when you don’t get a response.  You look away from the spectacle for the first time in an eternity, gazing unseeingly into the crowd of onlookers with a sudden sadness taking hold of you.  He won’t look, he’s too stubborn, he holds onto things too tightly.

But then, a flurry of flares start launching in rapid succession from the distant boats, screaming and crying on their way up and then igniting into showers of light, and the abrupt increase in activity manages to catch your attention once again.  This must be the end, they saved the best for last.  Every corner of the horizon flashes and sparks, and you’re mesmerized at how bright it is, how many colors they’ve managed to fit into one single frame.

“It’s beautiful,” comes his voice, and the smile that you break into feels just right for the brilliance of the view above you.  Maker, it is, isn’t it?  Now you can hear it—he sounds like he’s looking at it too, with color, in all its breathtaking glory, and you feel like you’re flying.  Like he picked you up and let you watch up close, like you can feel his armor under your fingers right now as he carries you through the sky.

It swells up inside you, a rising wave similar to the ones you can see in the distance, and you know you probably shouldn’t say it because it’s not in your best interest to say it right now, but you have to say it anyways.  It’s an unknowable compulsion, a need to connect and communicate directly with him but for your sake, not presently, not at this exact moment in time.

Luckily, you mute your comm just in time and simply give the words to him from very far away.

“Hurry up,” you say, sending the sentiment into the sky with all your love, and the conflicting hope that he won’t take the advice until a bit later on.  “Come and find me.”

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

After the fireworks are over, people start to drift off in separate directions, clearing the traffic and congestion from the streets around you.  Someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you blink a few times, spinning around and almost stepping on a bunch of tiny little feet by accident.

Stars, that’s a lot of children.  They’re all crowded around Naydee, who pats a few heads and almost buckles under the younglings clinging to her leg.

“Figured you would be long gone by now,” she grins at you from behind her mask, and you’re reminded to pull yours up over your face just from looking at her.  “It’s late—we’re going back to the Keja.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathe in surprise, but the noise of the gradually dispersing crowd manages to cover it up.  At least from younger, more easily distracted ears, but you think Naydee hears you.  Her dark eyes roll good-naturedly, looking happy but exhausted from the long day.  You’re going to have to say goodbye now.

“What happened to your family?”  She asks after a moment, and you think she’s being careful with the way she says it, likely because family is a difficult topic to navigate in general around some of the children hanging on her and begging for her attention.  “Have you been in touch with them?  If not, I’m sure you can come back with us.  It’ll be late by the time we get there, but at least you’ll be safe.”

You open your mouth to automatically decline her offer, knowing Din is still in the crowded city looking for you and wanting to stay where there’s lots of people.

But then… well, he would expect you to do that, wouldn’t he?

There’s more people here.  More danger, but better places to hide.  It’s the obvious choice, it’s the one that makes the most logical sense.  But you’d also be completely alone and you’re assuming the only reason he hasn’t snatched you up yet—which you know he could’ve done multiple times by now, is likely because you’re with a group of innocent foundlings, moody teenagers, and very stern older women.  He probably doesn’t realize you’ve told them about him and the kid, though you were slightly vague on the details.

It’s also a little over three hours to get back, but you’re banking on it being closer to four with how whiney and tired some of the small voices sound, others sounding like they’re an enormous sugar rush contained into a tiny little capsule.  Would he have the gall to try and get you right from under their noses?  Will he even know you left the city, or will he assume you made the smartest decision possible and simply account for it ahead of time?  No, you're overthinking it, just make a decision and stick with it.

“There’s also free food,” Naydee shrugs while you’re still considering, but… well, that settles that.  Almost three days of friendship and she already knows exactly how to win you over in the end.  Sustenance for your empty tummy, an escort the entire way there, and heavily guarded walls beyond.  Din will have to get creative in response—you flaunted your imagination for days, coming up with dozens of evasion tactics to outlast him, but this one just seems… incredibly practical.  Exploiting a weakness of his—isolating it, having it be reinforced by precedent, and then taking advantage of it.  You bet he’ll catch on, but still, it’ll make it more difficult for him, and you’re grasping at straws to hang on just a little longer.

“I…”  Quick, come up with something.  You clear your throat.  “The city is too crowded, I haven’t been able to find them.  I could just… tell them where I’m headed and see if they can find me along the way?”

Naydee smiles and nods.  “Sounds perfect.”

Yet, the entire walk back… you keep thinking you’re going to feel Din trailing behind you, waiting to feel the nerves twist in your tummy and your palms to sweat, but you don’t.  You keep glancing over your shoulder and then down at your wrist, needing to talk yourself out of addressing him through the comm to let him know exactly what the plan is.  You like maintaining a sense of secrecy from the new characters you’ve met on your adventures—Naydee, Karga, Peli—almost everyone you’ve been introduced to, you found a way to find a subtle enjoyment in hiding certain things from them.  But with Din, you don’t have any walls.  They crumbled nearly a full year ago when he silently pushed a cauterizer in your hand and took his armor off for you, and you’ve felt the inexplicable need to bare yourself to him in return ever since.  It would be to your extreme detriment to do it now, but you still have to fight the urge.

Even if you don’t feel him following, you still find yourself acting like he is.  Constantly turning back to double check the road behind you, drifting off in the middle of shallow, distant conversations with tiny foundlings who can’t tell the difference, keeping towards the middle of the pack this time to avoid being picked off towards the back.  The belltower at the orphanage is loud and will ring for quite a distance, so your timing has to be utterly pristine for this to all work out.  You eye your comm the entire way there, trying to stall just the right amount to avoid any realizations or fall into any traps he may be setting for you.

You eventually leave the city walls far behind you, and now you have no clue where he is.  You lost him, and maybe that’s why you feel your heart beat insanely fast the whole time.  He could be anywhere now.  Behind you, adjacent, parallel—you can’t decide where to look, but it keeps you wide awake and focused while the group tiredly travels back to the temple.

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

You can see it in the distance, the brick buildings slowly coming into view.  One might think your stress would have worked itself out by now, been brought back to a manageable level after four hours of walking, but you’ve been on red alert for the past hour or so.  Any movement or rustle that doesn’t come from the sleepy children or exhausted caretakers, you’re on top of it, snapping your attention to the offending tree or animal and not being able to relax even after affirming it’s just nature, it’s not shiny metal bounding after you in the darkness, ready to take you down.

The infants are all likely snoozing away in the nursery, and the Sister who volunteered to stay behind and look after them comes to greet the group at the gate as you approach.  Like always, two Brothers open the iron bars to allow you inside, and you feel the anxiety dig its claws into your tummy.  If Din is going to get you, this is the very last moment to do it.  These walls are guarded and you’re nervous for him, you’re nervous for yourself—you’re just fucking nervous.  Jumpy and worried, not being able to pinpoint him anymore and feeling all the more anxious because of it.

It doesn’t feel right.  Nothing feels right about this, but you can’t figure out specifically what’s wrong.  This was the exact plan, this was a way for you to just survive these last few hours and yet, it doesn’t feel right that you actually succeeded in doing so.  It doesn’t make sense that he’d allow you to return all the way here, especially when he was close enough to touch you earlier.  Din has had so much time to snatch you up, so many opportunities to lure you away, confront you—anything to catch you, and he hasn’t done it yet.  Why?  Either you truly did escape and he has no idea where you are, which doesn’t feel right, or he’s choosing not to get you for whatever reason, which also doesn’t feel right.  What’s he waiting for?  You can’t have won.  It was all too fucking easy, you’re expecting to see him around every single corner because he should be there, he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.

When someone gently touches your elbow, you’re so on edge that you nearly whip around in surprise.

“Sorry!”  Naydee immediately apologizes, taking her hand back to lift her hood and remove the mask covering her face.  “Didn’t mean to scare you!  I was just going to say that the commissary is still open,” she offers, and you watch the small group of hungry teenagers break off from the group to make their way there.  “It’s going to take awhile to get the children ready for bed, so we’ll be in the dormitories if you need to sleep.  Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll see you again.”

You stare at her and blink a few times, trying to readjust your focus.  She’s your new friend, she just said this was likely the last time you’ll see each other, but you can’t stop thinking about Din.  Imagine he’s hours away in the city right now, still looking for you.  You’re trying to evaluate your priorities here, but you truthfully never expected to get this far.  Inside the gates, surrounded by brick buildings and silent guards.  You know your way around here, you know hiding spots, you know how to outlast—it’s incredibly advantageous for you to be inside these walls.  What is he doing?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you give Naydee a quick hug and she happily accepts it.  “I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”

She smiles and nods, pulling back and letting a couple grumpy foundlings catch her robes and yank on them impatiently.  The loud group eventually disappears into the dorms, and the door shutting behind them cuts off the tired crying and chatty voices determined to stay awake, leaving you in silence that feels slightly unfamiliar after going without it for so long.

Fuck, you just need to breathe.  As soon as the dead quiet grips the air around you, you realize you need to relax.  You’re way too fucking wound up; you want to bolt at the smallest thing and the sudden silence of being alone multiplies it to the point where you have to remind yourself of its importance.  Breathe.  Focus.  There’s about fifteen minutes before the bells ring, fifteen more minutes and the chase will be all over.

Can you eat?  You thought you’d want to, but you think you’re too fucking antsy.  You can’t stay here alone, that’s for sure, but you also don’t want to be around all the children right now.  The commissary will have a handful of people wandering around, teens snacking and maybe a Brother or two standing guard.  It’s the best place to wait the clock out, so you make your way there.  The gentle breeze billows around your loose robes, your pantlegs swishing as you walk.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a plate of food in front of you but your mask is still up, and you’re just sitting there.  Towards the back of the large room, sitting by yourself at one of the tables and staring down at your communicator.  Five minutes.  You have five fucking minutes left before he finds you.  Can you feel him?  Is he closing in?

You sit up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath.  Focus on that feeling from earlier.  The presence in your chest, the weight that didn’t used to be there months ago—focus on that feeling and branch it outwards.  Can you feel him?

Something catches your eye.

Or no… it doesn’t, does it?  Nothing is out of place here, nothing is visibly wrong or amiss.  The only thing that’s changed from all the times before is how dark it is through the windows, and how there are only a few kids in here grabbing a midnight snack instead of being packed like usual.  Nothing else.

But there’s… there’s an acolyte in the far corner, standing guard with his back to the wall.  It’s not his presence that gives you pause—you expected him to be here, there’s always been at least one present whenever you’ve sat down to eat.  He doesn’t look any different from the rest of the Brothers you’ve passed by this evening or the days before—tall, silent, dark brown robes, hooded and mysterious—so why do you suddenly feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as soon as your eyes land on him?

Bubbling laughter and chatter echoes through the large room from one of the tables near the entrance—seven teenagers stuffing their faces with food and sharing animated conversation with each other now that it’s late and they’re alone—but your stomach twists and your fingers start to tremble as you slowly rise from your seat in the back.  You want to keep your head down and be casual but it’s impossible, you desperately need to keep looking at that silent guard in particular and your heart kicks up in your chest—

—and then it wrenches sideways when you’re carefully backing away from the table and the offending acolyte takes a single step forwards.

Run.  Everything in you screams for you to run, and it’s rarely done that before, but you can’t.  Not yet, you don’t want to draw attention, and the logical part of your mind rages against your gut instinct to haul ass.  He’s here—of course he is, the thought screams through your veins as you try to weave quickly in between tables, feeling light on your toes and readying yourself to run as soon as you can.  The dark figure seems to find a careful pace behind you, staying just far enough behind and walking in perfect silence, and you have so many fucking questions but you can’t even think a single thing beyond run away, run away.  Where’s the kid?  How did he get those robes?  Did he actually take his helmet off just to get to you in a room where anyone could confront him?

Your feet propel you forward as soon as you make it out of the door, you break out into a sprint—just flat out bolting because you know how fucking fast he is and you need as big a headstart as you can get.

You race down the stairs and through the courtyard, the beautiful surroundings contrasting drastically with the way you’re running for your fucking life through them.  It’s not beautiful to you right now; you feel clumsy and physically unable to move fast enough no matter how quick you go, your eyes are wide and every nerve is on fire and you can’t even tell if he’s behind you anymore with how silently he moves, but you just trust that he is and keep barreling forward.  Your breath puffs against the clinging fabric of your mask as you keep sprinting, willing your legs to pump faster.  Get to the belltower at least, get to where you have the smallest chance of being caught by the people who guard this place.

As soon as you allow yourself to even conceive the possibility, two Brothers in dark hooded robes suddenly turn the corner a little ways in front of you and your reaction time is perfect—you jerk to a halt and take a single step forward as soon as they spot you.  Since your momentum already committed you to it, you just have to walk, keep your head down, move directly past them and hope Din disappeared from behind you in time.

Step, step, step—keep going, control your breathing, you’re okay, you’re allowed to be up late tonight and they shouldn’t stop you.  Walk right by…  Stars, you feel their silent stares as you casually pass, and it just feels so cold and analytical compared to the kind of danger Din is gives off when dressed in the exact same clothing.  He’s hard and tangible and an unrelenting force, where they just feel like ghosts that haunt this place.  The threat they present is impersonal and detached, but the terror currently chasing after you is so real that he can read your mind.

You wipe the sweat from your brow as soon as you turn the corner, and your feet are already starting to speed up on their own knowing you’re out of their sight.  Run, get to the belltower before Din does, you can see it standing tall about a hundred feet away.  The stairs leading to the door come closer and closer, but you hear something behind you and it propels you faster.  It’s like you can feel him right at your heels even though you haven’t seen him, snapping at your ankles even though your footsteps are the only ones you can hear anymore.

You scramble up the stairs and close the door behind you, spinning around and facing it even as you slowly retreat backwards into the moonlit tower, trying to stay quiet.  Breathing through your nose, eyes shifting around the enclosed space, continuing to back up and away from the door.  Where is he?  There are so many windows that allow you to look outside, but why can’t you spot his movement through them?  Wasn’t he right behind you?

Behind you.

There’s no reason or logic at all to it; you just react.  Spinning around and throwing a mean punch.

Din jerks back just in time to miss it, twisting and dodging at the very last second to avoid your next few hits—but… things seem to slow down, even if they’re happening so fast.  The moonlight cascades through the dozens of windows lining the circular walls and it shines just enough to reveal small glimpses of him.  With every aggressive strike from you, you see something else—you see a flash of his chin when you try to uppercut, you aim for his chest and you see a bit of his jaw.  When you go for his jaw, he steps sideways and catches your wrist, and you see the bend of his nose catch the light this time.

But then it’s like he finally figures out that you’re actually fighting him, and now he’s coming for you.  Trained and ruthless, not weighed down by any armor and lightning quick, launching perfectly aimed attacks that you’re only able to avoid from reaction and muscle memory alone.  You block or move whenever he strikes, you attack whenever you see an opening, you sidestep at the same time he does—

Until you land a spin kick directly to the center of his chest and snap your leg to shove him back, your heel smashing into that soft spot right above his stomach with dead precision and brute force.  He exhales sharply and takes a few more steps back to steady himself while you pause to catch your breath.

Din abruptly comes back and you fall into it with him again, keeping a sharp rhythm with each other that’s faster, harder, and way more real than any sparring match you’ve ever shared.  The hours and days in hyperspace you spent practicing with him are but a fraction of what he’s throwing at you right now, the combinations so rapid and blurred that you just have to trust your knowledge of him and his movement through the dark.

But then, your downfall.  Bells begin ringing an earsplittingly familiar melody above you, and it shatters your concentration—you falter just as he grabs you and sweeps your feet out, and though you know how to get out of that, you’re not quick enough on the jump nor counterswing to prevent it.  He takes you to the ground, hard, and then your wrists are being pinned together above your head and your mask is being tugged down.

Din’s mouth on yours makes you want to cry.

The whole thing is like coming home.  You spent a week surrounded by strangers and having them call you by a name not given to you, fending for yourself, and now here he is.  Someone who knows who you really are, someone that wants to care for you.  Tears come to your eyes even as they're pressed tightly shut, and Din kisses you like he’s never known anything else.  His mouth fits to yours as if the Maker made your lips before ever considering the rest of you, his bare hand clutching your jaw and forcing you to open for him, letting him lick deep inside after going so many days without it.  It might feel dominant and overwhelming if it happened to any other person, but through it, you can also taste his desperation and weakness, how soft he is even when he’s squeezing your jaw and squishing your wrists together too tightly.

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

He pulls back and your heart throbs at how moonlight continues to bathe just the smallest glimpses of him under the hood—never the full thing, never the whole face, but enough.  The quiet light that brushes the arch of his nose, how it bathes the hard line of his jaw so that you can barely see his scruff when he turns his head the right way.  His eyes are hidden in near darkness but there’s the faintest glimmer where they should be, and it’s the closest you’ve ever been to looking at him without the helmet.  You can see him, you can see shadows of his chin, his neck—dear stars, his fucking neck.  You’re pinned and paralyzed under him and the ringing bells, yet you feel like you just might float if he wasn’t holding you so tight to the floor.

“Where’s the baby?”  You finally lift your chin and ask, needing to raise your voice over the melody clanging loud throughout the tower.

“Making friends,” Din pants back down at you, and… stars, then you just start giggling.  Adrenaline turning into pure joy, imagining the kid wreaking havoc with all the other babies in the nursery right now.  It feels more light and airy than anything your body should know.

“What are you so happy about?” He asks, swallowing and then continuing on with the same quick gasps.  “You lost, I caught you in time.”

“Did you?”  You drop your head to the brick floor and ask, biting your lip as he stares back down at you.  Suddenly—

—Bong—

Din holds utterly still over you while you take a quick breath and wait for the next eleven bells… 

…but then break into a slow grin up at him when nothing but utter silence follows.

There’s a moment.  Just a single moment where the cogs turn rapidly under that shadowy hood, one where the faint reflection of light in his eyes flickers down to the communicator on your wrist that says midnight and back to you, one that solidifies the longer it takes for another bell to ring.  It’s not going to.

One o’clock.

You think he puts it together.  The one moment he was never able to figure you out—when you tried reprogramming the comms just a few days ago.  The one trick up your sleeve that you resigned to throw away and almost forget about because the circumstances for pulling it off were never realistic.  Fuck with the electronics and set the clock back just one hour—all you’d need to do is reset his communicator, the timecode is synced together.  He told you before that it’s connected to his helmet, but all the buttons still work.  Rapid, panicky thinking and a wild surge of bravery in the face of certain downfall is the only reason you were able to pull it off, and you’re perfectly willing to admit you just got lucky… especially when he’s still holding dead still over you.

But then Din moves so suddenly.  You can’t account for it because there’s no build-up whatsoever—it’s so fast, you yelp while he grabs your knees and throws them both to one side.  You flop over sideways and large hands reach up under the draping length of your tunic to yank your pants down over the curve of your ass, before he’s fitting his palm up between your legs and pushing two thick fingers inside you.

Your head thunks back against brick with how unexpected and merciless it is, but his other hand is grabbing your jaw and twisting, forcing you to look up, stare right into the dark shadow under the loose cowl.  The whole thing is too overwhelming—you’re trying to keep quiet but your breathing feels like thunder crashing inside this tall, echoing chamber.  He’s touched you so many times, he knows exactly how to do it by now, but it feels like so much more than that.  Probably because you can see the way Din’s mouth silently falls open as he feels you, stretching his fingers up and hooking them tight inside.  You can tell when he closes his eyes, the smallest glint slowly disappearing into nothingness while the hand around your jaw blindly moves up.  It catches your chin and lips, and then two fingers push over the bottom edge of your teeth to slip into your mouth.

Your entire leg twitches and jerks while you lay sideways on the ground and open up for him, your neck twisted at a sharp angle to keep your eyes on him and his fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite to stop making noise.  Din makes room for himself inside you two different ways, and you just choke on his fingers and try to stay quiet, praying he’ll go deeper.

But then you’re not expecting his whole fucking arm to start moving the way it does—oh fuck, what is that?  First you just feel jostled and displaced, but then suddenly a wicked, deep, burning pleasure starts to roar through you, radiating outwards from the rapid motion of just two fingers inside you.  It’s not in and out, it’s up and down so hard and quick against your g-spot that your eyes cross and your hands go numb.

You think you grab at him, clutch onto his arm or chest and open your mouth to moan at the new and overwhelming sensation, but his hand pushes up against your chin and closes it for you, the bend of his fingers caught hard between your teeth but you don’t think he cares.

“Quiet,” Din hisses the word down at you while his arm continues to work, your toes starting to curl as the feeling overwhelms you.  Fuck, what is happening, what is happening?  It’s like he’s just shoving unfamiliar sensation at you so forcefully that you can’t even think straight anymore, not even ten seconds in.  You can only feel the pleasure, fire blurring hot and shapeless through your entire body as your eyes clamp shut, his fingers isolating that perfect spot and stimulating it directly, relentlessly.

Something dull and white hot presses up tight against all the muscles you have down there and you’re almost afraid of how strong it is.  You gasp and choke and he has to take his fingers out of your mouth and just clamp down around your entire jaw, sealing the whole thing shut with his large hand.  And then Din’s fingers leave your pussy too—and stars, you should be embarrassed by how desperately it clamps around nothing for as long as it does.  He’s not even inside you anymore but your body is on such a delay from the hot, twisting pleasure, and he doesn’t put them back in until your muscles are finished spasming.

Everything comes back full force as soon as he starts moving again.  Noise starts to come from your throat, humming in your vocal cords to deal with the arcing, swirling build, and so Din just moves his hand there instead.  He finds where it’s vibrating from your neck and he pushes up against it, trapping the sound right at the source.  He’s fucking perfect at it for some reason… how many times must he have done this to know how to cut noise out without stopping airflow?  You clutch at his wrist and silently mouth his name, feeling his arm work between your legs—faster, faster, harder, pushing you higher, higher—

Din pulls his fingers out again and this time, one of your thighs suddenly feels warm and wet while you spasm and you hear him growl out a ragged, “Fuck yes.”  Everything is sparks zapping through you long after his touch is gone, you cry out but it’s all trapped under Din’s expert grip.  His fingers soon push back inside you and you dig your nails into his forearm, your sounds muffled and quiet enough to hear his raspy groan.  

“Let me see it again,” Din breathes, his arm starting to work up and down once more, and you don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore.  What does he want to see?  You losing your mind again?  Being reduced to an utter mess in front of his shadowy but unobstructed gaze just because you managed to pull one over on him?

Fucking… apparently.  It’s what happens, after all.  You’ve never seen him like this before; whenever he’s worked up and taking it out on you, there was always something in it for him, too.  He’d hammer into you and rock your world until his eventually shattered, and then you’d both lay exhausted afterwards, equally affected and satisfied.  This isn’t like that—this is just cruel, targeted retribution on his behalf, coaxing the molten pleasure out of you with his fingers and keeping his other hand locked around your throat.  You blink helplessly up at him, your vision starting to blur by the time he leans down to whisper to you.

“I missed you, sweet girl.  Did you miss me?”  It’s so soft and quiet compared to the strength and relentlessness of his movements.  You can’t speak even if you wanted to, but when he finally pulls away to yank his hand out and you feel all your muscles automatically flex outwards and push against the sudden emptiness inside you, his voice groans long and satisfied while your thighs get wet again  “Yeah you did,” he breathes, pushing your shaky legs to the brick with his hand and watching you struggle through the aftershocks.

Did you just cum?  You don’t even know, that’s how fucked up you are right now.  The whole thing felt like an orgasm from the very beginning, just a boiling hot tornado ripping through every single cell in your body, never really having a peak.  If you didn’t cum, then why do you feel so weak?  You feel heavy, your limbs don’t work properly, and you barely even register Din pulling at the fabric of his own robes until he fits himself up against your entrance.

When you do realize it, though… your body burns with it, wrecked already but wanting him to take what he wants from you.

“Oh, plea—” you gasp but you don’t even have enough time to get the full sentence out.  He’s already pushing his hips forward, pressing you tight into the ground and opening you up after what feels like a fucking eternity without him.  It’s the hottest, slickest welcome you could give him, you hear it in the whispered curse his lips brush up under your ear, the wet noises your body makes that get louder the longer you hold the moan in your throat and bury your head into his shoulder.  He throbs thick and perfect inside your tight, spasming cunt, stretching you and smacking the rough ground near your head with how fucking good it is to be back, finally, finally—

Your hands grab uselessly at his chest while you try to acclimate, try to breathe while you’re blind with sensation.  It’s so fitting for him, isn’t it?  That your reunion should be just as physically debilitating as it is mentally.  Din’s voice scrapes on a groan like he’s dragging it across the brick ground as quiet as he can, catching when you clamp down on him and shuddering when you clamp down harder.  That’s just it—you don’t ever loosen, you just keep tightening and tightening around him, threatening to break and cum again.

This feels different from before, though.  It’s deep, purposefully so.  His hand reaches up to push the fabric of your hood back, lifting himself up over your body and wanting to start as deep as he can.  You feel him in a place you’d never be able to reach and that’s just the beginning—that’s before he starts thrusting into you, hitting a dull sensation at the apex of each movement so hard that it becomes sharp.  His hips don’t make practically any sound smacking into you because they don’t really smack, they just rock downwards and fuck you into the floor without needing to pull out really at all.  You know he’s just trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up in power.

You don’t even realize you’re making too much noise until a palm wraps tight around your mouth and the room gets a little emptier.  Din keeps you all to himself on the floor, silencing as much as he’s working you up, smothering as much as he’s freeing you.  There’s no easing up, no dragging it out, no gradual build or climb—it’s just there all of a sudden, pleasure and pain pummeling you all at once, engulfing you in flames.

You reach up to grab at the loose fabric of the hood over his face, catching a fistful of it before his hand suddenly snatches your shaky wrist and pins it back to the ground.

Maker, you forgot—oh, you completely forgot about how many people could find you right now if they ever decided to look in the right place.  You’re not in hyperspace; your body is rocking against rough brick, you’re probably going to have a lump on the back of your head from how terrible you are at trying to map out heaven while holding still.  He’s pinned down what he can with one hand; your fingers are the only things that can move besides how tight you can curl your toes, but you feel your moans turn into words against his palm.  They garble indistinctly and you’re not really even sure what you’re saying, but Din decides it’s worth hearing.

“Shh,” he whispers, slowly lifting his hand from your mouth.  “Shh, tell me—”

“W-wanna look,” you hear yourself whimper, trying your best to keep quiet but wanting to scream it while he fucks you hard and slow on the ground, “—I wanna see, I wanna look at you—”

“Fuck,” Din gasps, and though his grip tightens on your wrist and you know he can’t do it right this second, the words seem like they shatter something inside him, “Keep—oh fuck, please, k-keep saying…”

“I want to marry you,” you nearly whine for him, feeling his hips kick up rapidly and start hammering in and out, in and out, in and—“I want to see your face, I wanna be yours, I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I-I—”

You think he drops his head into your neck to muffle his own sounds.  Though they start out rough and quiet and indiscernible, but they gradually become louder as he repeats himself over and over again, growling and fucking you rough.  You only catch it on the peak, when he pulls his mouth away from your skin and gasps them raggedly one last time.

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

He kisses you to stop himself.  But it’s not really a kiss, it’s more desperate than that.  Though it’s beautiful, it’s beautiful in a different light.  It’s not rejoicing at having you back with him once again; it’s a last prayer begging you to stay by his side forever.  He loves you.  He gives it everything—it feels even more concrete and simple than taking the hood off him and revealing his face would.  You told you that you'd know him without ever seeing him, and you did.  You picked him out and found him when absolutely nothing was giving him away, and this feels like a manifestation of that.  Even if you’re not in a place where he can show you his face, his beautiful brown eyes, something still feels like it changes.  He loves you.  You gasp into his mouth and his tongue sinks deep into yours, tenacious and brave and unyielding.  

When you finally cum, you almost bite him on accident.  

Everything surges hot and molten while he pulls back and keeps fucking you through it, and you can’t tell where you’re touching him anymore, just that his skin is blazing hot under your hand and he feels like everything the armor isn’t.  He loves you.  You’re looking into his eyes right now.  You can’t see any of the details, not really, but the moonlight flickers like silent stars moving through dark depths, staring right back at you and giving you an anchor for the euphoria rocketing through you.  He loves you.  Your nails dig in sharp and slowly drag downwards, scratching hard red lines into whatever thick muscle that is—

The back of his neck, making his hips stutter and when he cums for you, he does bite.

You lift your head just in time to feel his teeth catch your chin instead of your mouth, and his entire body shakes while you keep dragging your nails down the side of his neck and his throat.  Din fucking lives for it, he releases you and arches into the pain and owns your marks like he wishes you made them deeper, stretching his neck and lifting his chin into the moonlight and—

Maker.  You can see it, with direct light, you can see more of it than ever before.  You can see his soft lips and white teeth gritting the sound of your name as quietly as he can, the dark facial hair dusting across the lower half of his face.  A fucking gorgeous jawline and throat extended long over you, flexing hard with his cock pulsing inside you.  You can just barely see the bottom of his nose from under the brown hood, the dark curls brushing up under his ears.

Stars, you still never see his eyes, the fabric of his hood acts like a blindfold draped over them, but you think you cum again.  Even if it’s on accident, it’s mean—Din tries to keep from squishing you and his hand pushes down hard against your lower tummy while he shoves his hips deep one last time, and you cum while staring at half of his face in the moonlight.  Completely lovestruck.

How can he be this beautiful when you’ve only seen fractions of him?  You have everything but the eyes now, everything but the most mysterious thing about him, the reflection into his deepest self, but you feel like you’re hypnotized by every single feature you do see.  His tongue coming out to wet his lips, the vein pulling under his sharp jaw—he’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, and your body agrees.  It shakes and shudders under him and eventually, Din finishes and you keep looking as his chin slowly lowers, face disappearing into the shadow once more.

Stars.  He’s so handsome and no one has ever told him, fucking dreamy and the biggest grump you’ve ever met.  Without being able to see him, you already want to reach your hands out and touch him, drag your nails through his scruff and force him to extend outwards into the moonlight again for you.  Whenever he does end up showing you his face, you know right fucking now that you’ll never be able to look away.  For the rest of your life, you’ll be staring at him, apologizing blankly for your rudeness but not feeling sorry at all.

Din leans down and gives you a slow, gentle kiss, finally relaxing into a slouch and breathing hard with the effort it took to shatter you with pleasure.

“The kid is with the other foundlings,” he whispers against your lips.  “You… you’ll have to go get him, I need to grab my armor.”

You squeeze around his cock, pulling at the fabric of his robes and ignoring him for just a second.  He fucked you in robes belonging to one of the guards and nobody has mentioned it, you need to say something.  “Where did you get this?”

“I found it,” he tells you after a moment, kissing up under your jaw.  Oh fucking Maker, he feels so good and perfect inside you, shoulders so broad and crowding you on the floor, and his lips are plush and hot, brushing and fitting your skin like it’s just an extension of his own.  “Some guy was wearing it.”

It takes you a second.

“Mando,” you suddenly gasp in quiet horror, pushing at his chest and trying your best to detach his mouth from your throat.  It’s so much more difficult than it needs to be, but you eventually succeed.  “What did you do to him?  Where is he?”

He lifts his neck up just the tiniest bit, turning his face towards yours under the hood and holding still for way too fucking long.  He’s too close to see the expression he’s making, but you know the tone of his silence.  He’s in trouble and he knows it before you do.

“Ma—”

“They’re in a closet,” he admits at the very same time, completely monotone.

You don’t know which word to emphasize.  A fucking closet?  They’re?  Plural?  Instead of stressing any particular word, you decide not to do it at all and it ends up just coming out in the same exact blank tone as him.  “They're in a closet.”

“Inside the Temple,” Din continues on when you lay still as a statue underneath him.  His head slowly dips down once more, pushing his hips against you just the slightest bit to make you remember the cock still inside you instead.  Your eyelashes flutter with it—fuck, focus—“I didn’t know there’d be more than two.”  He kisses your neck so gently.  “It was an accident.”

You don’t say anything at all, your mouth pinching down at the corners because it should but your heartbeat galloping with how… fucking sexy he is.  You shouldn’t encourage this, this horrible behavior just to get close enough to catch you, but your curiosity overtakes you and you ask a question you’ve asked yourself before.  “Did they put up a fight?”

“Mm,” he whispers noncommittally, rocking his hips down once more.  “You did.”  Your nails dig into his chest, making him falter just slightly before slowly kissing your neck again.  “Did so good.  Fought hard, outsmarted me.  Pretty fucking girl.”

And then your eyes pop open as you feel it.  His cock suddenly beginning to harden once again inside you, twitching and gradually gaining a thicker shape, and for a moment, you actually fucking consider it.  He’s the only one in this galaxy that could not only ruin you on these sacred grounds, but then coax you into doing it more than once—stars, are you actually considering it?

“We can’t,” you automatically tell him, but it’s fucking pitiful.  Zero effort, absolutely no umph behind it, leaving it entirely up to him and how much he wants it.  Your logic reminds you that the kid is probably wreaking havoc in the nursery and there are tied up guards in the fucking temple that could be discovered any second.  You shouldn’t have even let him fuck you here in the first place, but…  “Mando, we can’t—”

His mouth opens against the crook of your neck and his tongue brushes velvet hot on your skin, tasting the glistening sweat there and not moving his broad figure a single inch over you besides getting closer, deeper.  Your nails dig into his collarbone, aiming for reason one last time.  It’s apparent that you’d be better off rephrasing, knowing the challenging streak in him and how much telling him what to do doesn't help.

“It’s not a good idea,” you attempt instead, breathless and trying not to move under his mouth and lazy hips.  “Not smart.  Bad idea to fuck again.”

Din’s body stops moving, even though he keeps getting harder.  His jaw opens and then his teeth scrape softly against your flesh, making you tilt your neck back and gasp.

“Later,” he lifts his head to state aloud, committing it to truth now that it’s been spoken and heard by another person.  “Later, I’ll fuck you on the ship, in our bed, when I can get you naked and have your taste in my mouth.”

Tingles rock through your body and you squeeze around his cock just as he pulls it out and tucks it back into his pants.  Your lungs quiver when you inhale—it’s shaky, but it reminds you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to breathe correctly.

“Later,” you finally agree, combing your fingers through your hair and glad you have this hood to cover your freshly fucked dishevelment.  He came inside you and you don’t want to be leaking and getting your nice pretty robes all wet and stained, but then of course, without any prompting, Din quickly scoots back on his knees and drops his head down to take care of it for you.

***

Commotion.

After Din helped you clean up the way he sometimes likes and then disappeared to change back into his armor, you put your mask and hood back on and tried to look as casual as possible walking to the nursery.  Your knees wobbled slightly and you couldn’t stop smiling under the mask the entire walk there, but when you arrived, you just saw a dim room with sleeping infants—not what you were expecting.  Soon, however, you hear it: down the hall, distant and coming from the dormitories, you hear a loud commotion.

Fuck, you’re nearly wincing with every step you take now, and not because you’re sore.  Well, you… are, a little bit, but in a great way.  No, you’re just dreading the ridiculous shinanigans you already know are well underway, wondering if Din actually dropped the kid off in the dorms from the beginning or if he somehow migrated his way there to cause trouble.

When you walk inside, the first thing you see is a handful of crying and shouting toddlers, and while you can’t immediately spot your favorite floppy-eared monster, you don’t have to see him to know he’s probably standing tiny directly in the middle of this tense showdown.  Automatically, you’re taking a few steps forward to rescue him, but then you stop as soon as you see what the other babies are so mad about.  A large piece of chocolate leftover from the festival levitating just beyond their pitiful little reaches.

Hm.  Who could possibly be responsible for using demon powers to steal snacks and hold them hostage from a sizeable group of hostile children.  A mystery that may never be solved.

It makes you take a second.  The sheer… the… stars, you can’t even think straight—how fucking typical it is just hits you right in the chest, sends your heart into orbit.  Of course.  Of course this is what he’s gotten himself into without immediate supervision, of course this is the shipwreck you’d walk into, and you’re holding back a chuckle before making a single move to intervene.  In the midst of everything, you can hear adults approaching distantly from behind you.

“—don’t know where it came from, I was helping the younglings into bed when I heard the ruckus and I—”

The voices gradually grow louder, and you snatch the floating piece of candy out of thin air and whip around right before Sister Drya and Naydee walk in.  Their hushed, concerned conversation is cut to an abrupt end, and you clear your throat as they take you in, standing in front of chaos central continuing to go off behind you.  Do you… look as freshly disheveled as you are?  You’re not supposed to be here, you know, but hopefully the only strange thing is your presence itself and not anything concerning your appearance.

“Nerida,” the older lady suddenly announces, the name alone holding so much expectation, and the younglings missing their candy have now turned their ire towards you and the crinkly food wrapper hidden in your fist.  “What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, yeah,” you stand up a little straighter, letting the chocolate casually fall out of your grip behind you, and a stampede of feet suddenly kick up to recover it.  It’s fine, nobody will know, it’s fine.  “It’s just…”  Your head tips behind you to the cause of the uproar, feeling a bit sheepish yet so incredibly fond.  “My… kid.”

Sister Drya stares at you for a few seconds, before tipping sideways and staring at the culprit.  “That is your child?”

You turn around just in time to see him, now abandoned by the angry mob of children, finally notice you.  All of a sudden, his pitch black eyes light up something bright and sunshiney, and you just start beaming in return.  What an adorable little creature, apple of your eye and pain of your ass.

“Yep,” you sigh, dropping into a squat and watching him barrel towards you, catching him right before he can trip over his brown potato sack and scooping him up into your arms.  “Hiya, bug,” you murmur with a grin, lifting back up and plopping him in his favorite spot in the universe—your left hip.  “You making friends?”

He giggles and it’s like sparkles and bubbles fill the room instead, wrapping tiny arms around the largest surface area he can get and clinging.  He laughs with a tiny open mouth, bless him, clearly not understanding the sarcasm, and suddenly your eyes feel just the slightest bit wet.  No, you’re not crying, don’t be fucking ridiculous, but you missed him like hell and he’s just the cutest fucking thing—why do you feel like crying?

“Sorry about that,” you apologize to the two women while slowly turning around, brushing your thumb over one of his cheeks and smiling as it squishes.  “He’s… uh.  Not great at sharing.  We’ll work on it.”

Takes after his dad, you purposefully leave out, just a different kind of sharing.  Din hasn’t shown you his full face yet and the kid performs magic tricks to taunt a roomful of children a fraction of his age for a single piece of chocolate, completely different kind of sharing.

Sister Drya says something in response, but when you look up to address her, all you see is Din standing silently behind her and Naydee, slowly dropping his hand from his helmet to his side.  They don’t seem to notice he’s there and you automatically try your best to pay attention to the Sister speaking to you, but your eyes get caught on the silver reflecting in the dim light beyond.  Fuck, he’s a presence.  An immediate distraction, taking all your focus with a single glimpse.  Seeing him fully armored again, staring at you from the silent shadows behind everything… you melt a little bit, knowing that you’ve seen more of what’s underneath than anyone.  Your shoulders settle and your entire body burns warm, wobbly like the air around a fire, and one of the kid’s hands leaves you to reach out towards his dad.

You watch the metallic helmet tilt sideways after a moment, saying everything without saying anything.  Come on, make up an excuse, let’s get out of here.

Looking at him in the quiet shadows, you’re reminded once again about how much you love him, how much softness you have inside you for a man so hard, so guarded.  And, for the first time, a voice in your head finishes a poem you didn’t realize you were writing, adding its own verse and bringing everything back around to the beginning.  He loves you, too.  How much he lets his guard down for you, the way he’s revealed more of his face to you than not.  You love each other.  You’re family.

So, all at once, you decide to mess with him, because that’s what family does best.

“Don’t be shy, come say hello,” you suddenly urge his silent figure, taking a step forward and speaking directly to him.  “Sister Drya, Naydee, I’d like to introduce you to my—”

It’s remarkable, you see it happen in front of you.  Like he has powers of his own, Din just literally fucking disappears.  Like magic, he’s nowhere to be found within a blink of an eye.  You know he’s capable of it; he’s done it plenty of times during the chase just to fuck with your head, but you’re staring straight at him when it happens this time and it might just be the funniest fucking thing you’ve ever seen him do.

Sister Drya and Naydee both turn around to an empty hallway bathed in shadows and you laugh.  A deep, shameless, loud belly laugh.  Where the fuck did he go so quick?  You were staring straight at him and you have no fucking clue.  He’s just out, and you’re left alone with his child and the unspoken understanding that he’ll just catch up with you later.

You’re giggling even as you shake your head and give the women your genuine thanks for keeping you and feeding you these past few days, grabbing your backpack with all your belongings and eventually using three green fingers to wave goodbye to them.  The very first thing Din says when he seamlessly joins you outside the Keja later is, “That wasn’t funny,” which just makes you laugh harder.

***

About a half hour has passed, and you’re walking along a dirt road, cradling a very happy baby in your arms and giving the grown man next to you an incredibly hard time.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, your back twinging slightly at the way you’re leaning about as sideways as you can get without falling over.  You think you’re basically just the hypotenuse between the ground and Din, who easily supports almost your entire weight with your backpack slung around his far shoulder and readily allows you to rest against him.

“They’re fine,” he grumbles in response, squeezing you tight to his side.  You just have to focus on moving your feet; it’s like he’s practically carrying your upper-half anyways.  “I gave them the night off.”

“You stuffed them in a closet,” you hiss, feeling his shoulder shrug under your cheek.

“I gave them the robe back,” he says, not really defending himself and more just throwing it out there to see if it helps any.  “I’m sure someone’s found them by now, they’re fine.”

Your eyes suddenly go wide, absolutely mortified at the thought.  “Wait.  What do you mean you gave the robe back?”

He shrugs once more, apparently not seeing the problem yet.  “I borrowed it, so I gave it back after I put my armor back on.”

If you could plant your feet on the dirt road and screech to a halt, you would, but all your weight is already resting on him and you’re working solely off his forward movement.  You just hope your tone holds the same amount of shocked disapproval your body language would’ve conveyed if you weren’t so completely attached to his hip like a parasite he adores.

“You fucked me wearing it, though.”  Your voice is strangely flat, so fucking confused and horrified by the mental image of him just tossing the soiled garments haphazardly somewhere in the temple behind you, or even worse, leaving them somewhere respectful, and Din soon stops in the middle of the deserted road.

“Oh,” is all he says, emotionless and blank through the modulator.  Did he not even consider this?

“I had to promise them I was a virgin just to sleep there, you know,” you admit, and you can tell that’s brand new information to him with how still he goes as you continue to lean against him.  You’re getting the feeling that he probably knows a lot more about your experiences on this moon than you think he does, but can tell that this is brand new information to him.  “And you locked three of their holy men in a closet, chased me across the temple grounds, fucked me in one of their robes, and then.  You gave it.  Back.”

Din stays perfectly silent for quite some time.  You can never go back to that place, you know this for a fact.  You’re banned forever now, it’s what you deserve.

Never one to be outdone but not actually having anything to say for himself, Din suddenly decides to just scoop you into his arms and boost up into the sky without a single word like an actual fucking maniac.

You squeal and damn near drop the baby because of it, but he cinches you tight to his chest and refuses to loosen with your struggle.  Eventually, after you realize he’s completely locked you in and you won’t fall to your death with this poor innocent child in your arms, you glance over the shiny pauldron on his shoulder and watch the kid’s crib disappear by the abandoned road as Din takes you higher and higher.

The crib—he forgot the crib—

“D-Din,” you stammer out through the whistling air, stiff as a board.  Stars, you have such a different sense of adventure than him; an explorer and a daredevil, one who gets a thrill from discovering the existence of the edge of a cliff and one who’ll take a running dive off of it without thinking twice.  He’s hit with blaster fire some days, he faces down death completely fearless like it owes him one every single time, and you’re stiff as a fucking board while he carries you through the sky.  It’s stunning up here, it’s exciting and wonderful, but you’re so scared that you can barely even look.  He’s giving you the most fantastical view, everything your budding adventurous streak could ever ask for, and your terror is crushing.  It would be different if you could hold on, but you’re responsible for not letting the baby slip through your arms and you just have to trust that he won’t let you slip through his.

You raise your voice.  “Din?!”

“I won’t drop you,” he automatically reassures, and well you sure as fuck hope not, but there’s something else.

“What about the crib?”  You call out over the wind whipping, tucking the baby tight to your chest and settling your hands over his ears to avoid them flapping and whacking you repeatedly in the chin.

“We’ll come back for it,” he responds, just as easily.  Maker, you wish decision-making came that easy to you, that commitment and choice should be so simple as to just fly away from things on the ground and promise out loud to come back for them.  You know he will, but still, his spontaneity shocks you after spending the past week thinking every decision through meticulously, and you’re taken aback by the casualness of it all while soaring through the sky, committing such spectacular feats without a single thought beyond it.

Soon—incredibly soon, which honestly kind of blows your mind—you spot Nariss glowing in the distance and then you’re flying overtop of the city, slowly dropping altitude in the middle of a quiet little side street.

Din carefully allows your feet to settle on the ground before letting go, but you still stumble a bit stupidly after flying so high without any sort of safety measure besides him, prioritizing the steadiness of the baby in your arms instead of your feet underneath you.  His gloves catch at your clumsy body and pull you along with him without another word, leading you out of the quiet alley and into the middle of a beautiful, luminescent street.

What’s he doing?  He seems slightly hurried, and you’re clueless but you go with it, clamoring along behind him to wherever he’s leading you.

Though, you suddenly remember one of the very last things you told him last night right before he steps up in front of a vendor.

“Caf,” Din grunts, sliding a few credits towards the man standing behind the counter. “The… biggest one you have.”

Okay, well.  You could just about fucking cry.

“Y’sure?” The vendor asks skeptically, jerking his head at the large thermos behind him.  He’s balding, wearing a white outfit with his eyes scrunched up and forehead sweaty, likely working all day.  “It ain’t fresh.  Closin’ up soon, was just about to trash it and go home.”

The helmet turns to gauge your response to the news, the sharp angles and contours looking so sleek and dangerous as they reflect the colorful lamplights, but just filling you with comfort beyond anything in the entire galaxy.  He’ll take that armor off for you tonight and you’ll sleep next to him.  He’ll call you by your given name, or the fond name he’s given you, and you’ll cuddle your baby on a metal floor in hyperspace with him, and all will be well.  Even if he needs to leave again soon—even if you don’t get to go with him, you’ll always have these small eternities with each other, and that’s more enough for you now.

You’re completely zoned out while staring at him, and Din turns back to the vendor before you can even remember the conflict he was attempting to defer to you.

“Yeah, just empty the whole thing in there for her,” he mutters, and you want to marry him.  It’s been a long week, and in your haze and delight of being with him in this gorgeous setting, your brain turns to cavewoman mush.  Big man, makes me happy.  Strong man, loves me, knows me.  Provider, makes me feel good, protector, loves me.

Din hands you the large cup of steaming caffeine, clueless to your grunted inner monologue but knowing better than to reach out and grab the kid from your other arm.  You’re just fine like this, hands full, the little frog snuggled up against your side and blinking up at your face instead of any of the shiny or glowing things around you.  When you look down at him, you can see the world through his eyes—quite literally, they’re reflective and gigantic—and his father’s hand quickly finds its preferred spot on your lower back.

“Try to drink it quick,” Din advises you gruffly, pulling you snug into his side and sloshing the big cupful of piping hot liquid in your hand.

“It’s a thousand degrees,” you protest, trying to balance your three favorite things in the universe all begging for your direct attention at once.  “It has to cool down.”

He gives a dismissive hm in response, and you frown even as your heart soars with how tightly he’s gripping you, how little leeway you have to even move without him.  Part of you is so thrilled at being reunited with him that you consider snarking something back at him, excitement making you brave.  He could probably chug boiling hot liquid in thirty seconds and doesn’t see the point in letting it sit any longer, and you could make some stupid joke about filtering it through his helmet or having a built in bendy straw but you decide to keep it to yourself.

So then you just stand there together, under stringed lights and flowers everywhere, and he waits.  Holding you glued to his side, completely silent and clearly just waiting for your caf to stop steaming so threateningly in your hand so you can drink it.  For some reason, the fact that he’s wanted by the New Republic doesn’t really register at this second—you’re not looking for cops, though he may be.  You’re just lost in this beautiful, fancy city that’s on the edge of finally quieting down after a long day, and you’d like to see more of it with him next to you.

“Well, do you wanna just…”  You ask, tilting your head around at all the vendors.  “Shop around for a bit?”

“Shop… around,” Din repeats slowly, sounding the words out like they’re not common Basic.  Admittedly, they do sit a bit awkward in his voice when put together like that, describing a phenomena he’s likely never even considered a thing before, but it’s so fucking pretty here and you’d like to show him something this time instead of the other way around.

“Yeah, like,” you shrug a shoulder, tipping your head in a random direction.  Anywhere, you’ll go literally anywhere with him, the three of you can go explore.  “Just wander around, and look at all the pretty things.”

From where you’re standing right now, you can already see glittering crystals and jewels being sold at the tent across the street, there’s a booth dedicated entirely to floral arrangements and crowns next to it, you can hear a distant quartet playing melodically in the distance and a couple is being painted by an artist on the corner.  Bars are in full swing at this point, as if they weren’t all day, and even though the merchandise is all different, the multicolored tents look slightly similar when they’re underlit with multicolored lights.  It’s less slightly lively than it was in the daytime, but also… more beautiful, in a sense.  Muted, softer, more romantic.

“I don’t have any more credits,” Din admits casually, finally turning to look around at everything.  You get the feeling that he’s just now seeing it, even after spending the entire day here.  “That stale caf was the last of it.”

Money well fucking spent, you can assure him of that.

“It’s okay,” you tell him automatically, gently bumping your hip into his.  “We don’t need credits, we can just look.”

So that’s what you do.  Even though it’s completely not his fucking style, for the next hour or so, you just walk around downtown with him and sip your caf, looking at anything and everything new and experiencing it with him.  At first, you think he’s just entertaining you, following you while you discover new streets and attractions, but then he points out different things and you know he's looking, too.  There are large animals harnessed up and pulling carts for people to ride, there's an enormous spinning wheel set up in the distance, its colorful lights flickering out as soon as you ask what the fuck that is and why anyone would ever get inside one.

You eventually end up finishing your caf around the time he’s leading you back through a quiet, abandoned alleyway, and you hand him the empty cup to throw away in one of the trash cans on the corner.  The conversation has faded to a comfortable quiet and you don’t really need to ask—you go willingly, not requiring anything beyond his hands on you and the baby dozing in your arms.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he murmurs, gently sweeping you up into his.  You sigh, glad he’s giving you a moment to prepare yourself this time, holding the sleeping kid securely to your chest and resting your head on his shoulder.  “Let’s go home.”

After you’re comfortable, Din rockets up from the ground and climbs high up into the canvas sky.  He disappears with you and the baby into the pastel clouds above, making it back to the Razor Crest in probably about an hour, maybe less.  You and the baby do nothing more than climb into the comfy floor blankets while Din starts up the engines, and you think you’re dozing off together by the time he makes the pit stop to collect the crib and the jump into hyperspace.

You think he might shower?  You’re not sure—you just know he moves up behind you in bed at one point without any armor, burying his face in your hair while you cuddle the sleepy kid to your chest.  It’s dark in the hull, Din’s palms are bare and warm as they slide around the front of your body and he breathes you in, and there isn’t a single place that can touch you here, not a single place you’d rather be.

Home.

***

@followwhereshegoes​ Thank you for the stunning artwork! 💕To anyone interested in possibly doing an art collab in the future, please message me!!

[voidfishing]

I already talked about this in an ask a few days ago but. I genuinely cannot stop thinking about Mavis and Mookie interacting with the rest of the IPRE/bureau so here is a headcanon collection

- Magnus, Carey, and Lup are so entertained by Mookie’s constant state of excitement. this kid is so fucking funny to them. Magnus and Carey play the most intense rough-and-tumble games with him every single time they see him. Lup gets to be the Cool Aunt by showing him pyrotechnics and telling him scary stories!! she brags that she’s his favorite even though he claims that they’re all his favorite

- both Mavis and Mookie adore Barry. he is the coolest uncle ever just by virtue of being Barry Bluejeans. he gets them little gifts and tells fun stories and does a hilarious impression of Merle. half of their visits end up with Mookie falling asleep to one of Barry’s stories

- Taako thinks Mookie is the scariest little child on the planet. he bakes an excessive amount of sweets to try to keep him preoccupied whenever he visits his house. his philosophy is that if Mookie is distracted by his food he will run around less and there will be a lower risk of him breaking anything

- despite Taako having no idea what to do with Mookie, Mookie just adores him. he thinks he’s so funny!! while mostly everyone else tries to filter their language at least a bit around the kids, Taako almost never does, and cursing in front of Mookie is a sure-fire way to entertain him (Taako uses this as leverage, promising to teach Mookie a new swear if he doesn’t break anything in his house)

- Mavis asks Killian to help her train every so often, and the two end up becoming really close really quickly as Killian sees just how competent an adventurer Mavis is at such a young age. it’s pretty common for Carey and Lup, and occasionally Lucretia, to join them just to spar or give pointers or offer Mavis a bit more education about magic and her potential adventuring paths. basically Mavis has the coolest aunts in the whole world and they all love her and want to help her find her path

- Mavis loves loves loves spending time with Lucretia. she is fascinated with the stories she tells even though she’s already heard them. she wants to know every little detail about anything arcane and she trusts Lucretia to teach her

- Magnus really wants to get them a dog, and has tried numerous times to go behind Merle’s back to do so. he eventually succeeds and both Mavis and Mookie end up with dogs of their own <3 Merle has to forgive Magnus because the kids are So Thrilled and the dogs are very good adventuring companions

- Mavis really enjoys spending time with Kravitz. he’s a little worried at first that the kids will be nervous about the whole Grim Reaper thing but Mavis is fascinated with his job (and Mookie just thinks it’s cool). and, to be fair, he’s one of three undead entities in their life so it’s really not a big deal. Mavis expresses a lot of interest in his work and life and Kravitz has a surplus of stories to tell!!

- Angus and Mavis become really good friends pretty quickly! Angus doesn’t interact with other kids much (given that he goes to Lucas’ school which. is definitely not geared towards 12 year olds) so he’s always excited to get to hang out with Mavis and Mookie!! Mavis tells Angus all about her adventures and he tells her all the amazing things he’s learned at school!! they swear that they’re going to adventure together someday

[nientedenada]

Who wanted the Draconis family dead? J'accuse . . .

Originally posted on r/teslore, reposted here on Halloween as an appropriate tale of murder and ghosts.

In Oblivion, the quest Next of Kin has you kill of all the members of the Draconis family: an aged mother and four adult children. You don’t get an answer who asked for the hit in the first place. Sensible answers discussed in the past include a relative who is eliminating other heirs, or someone with a hatred for the entire family.

But let me share my crazy theory of how Perennia Draconis, loving matriarch of her family, arranged for her own death and her childrens’ at the hands of the Dark Brotherhood. It got less crazy the more I looked at it, and I’m now it’s my personal Truth of the matter.

A lot of people remember Perennia as a nice old lady who wanted to send her children gifts, and unfortunately mistook the Dark Brotherhood assassin as the gift-buying and courier service. But if you pay attention to what she’s saying, she isn’t nice. At all. She’s a nasty old piece of work whose children have gone low or non-contact with her. She has outright awful things to say about three of her four children, and her compliments of the fourth may also be passive-agressive condemnation.

She gives the player a list of where to look for each kid, butchering their characters in the process.

Matthias – Imperial City - Talos Plaza District, Imperial City (he has a home there): Matthias always was a rough and tumble lad. The last I’d heard, he’d fallen in with some pretty tough characters there in the Imperial City. I’d feel so much better if I knew he was well protected, so I’d like for you to find him a nice cuirass. Nothing too light – iron or steel should be fine. And, if possible, I’d like it engraved with “To my Dear Matty, I’ll always be here to protect you, love Mum.”

First kid, gone no contact with her: “the last I’d heard”. After he dies, his tombstone, btw, says

Here lies Matthias Draconis. His mother always told him he’d end up dead if he didn’t clean up his life…“

Next:

Sibylla – Muck Valley Cavern. Yes, my daughter lives in a cave, and no, I’m not very happy about it. Sibby has always loved animals (almost as much as Andy loves beer) and a couple of years ago she apparently thought it a good idea to abandon the Empire and live as a savage with the rest of the animals. In that time, I’m afraid Sibby has kind of… cracked. She’s basically as wild as the beasts she lives with. What can I do? I’m Sibby’s mother and I’ll always love her. She obviously doesn’t want or need anything from civilized society, so what I’d like you to do is find a tanner and secure the largest fur blankets you can possibly find. The last time I saw Sibby she was nearly naked, and I can’t imagine there’s much in that cave to keep her warm. When you do bring them to Muck Valley Cavern, be careful! The wild animals are bad enough, but Sibby herself will probably attack anyone on sight.

Again, has ran away from mom, not in contact.

Caelia – Castle Leyawiin (you’ll find her in the barracks): My beautiful Cae! My dearest daughter broke so many hearts when she was younger. But now that she’s an officer in the Imperial Legion I’m afraid she’s let herself go a bit. Not gotten fat! By Mephala, not that! But she’s settled into a more… practical kind of look. Even a bit boyish, I guess you could say. So what I’d like you to do is get my Cae as much pretty "girl” stuff as you can. Flowers, perfume, Nord chocolate, that sort of thing.

This one is absolutely venomous. It’s the most personally nasty of the lot, and the gift suggested isn’t even useful to Caelia, unlike the other gifts on the list ostensibly are.

Caelia says she defied her mother’s plans for her

I came to Leyawiin after a tour in the Legions. Poor Mother. She hoped I’d choose the chapel or civil service, or perhaps even marry well.“

and Caelia says

My mother? Oh, do you know her? She’s such a sweet woman. I’ve been a terrible daughter I’m afraid. I simply must visit more often! Anyway, I have duties to tend to. If you see my mother, tell her I’ll visit soon! I promise!”

“I simply must visit more often”, doesn’t, moved all the way to Leyawiin after retiring from the Legion, I really doubt Caelia wanted to see her mom that much. She’s keeping her mom at a civil distance, even if she keeps up contact.

Andreas – The Drunken Dragon Inn (he owns the place and lives there as well): Andy has been brewing his own beer and spirits since he was six years old. The opening of that inn was the happiest day of his life. I’d like for you to get him some new tavern glasses. I’m sure there are craftsmen in the Imperial City who could make a fancy set from frosted ebony or Altmeri crystal.

This is the only description of a child that seems kind of positive, but I don’t think the bit about brewing his own beer and spirits since he was six is really meant to be.

Perennia complains about living alone when you first disturb her and here’s her dialogue about the list.

My children? Whatever for? Oh! Oh, dear, excuse an old woman’s stupidity! You’re here to pick up my gift list! Using your gift service was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. My children are spread across Cyrodiil, and it’s so hard to shop for them all! So, here’s the list of all my precious little ones, though I dare say they’re not so little anymore! Ha ha ha ha ha! They grow up so fast, I swear! You’ll notice that the list gives each child’s location and some suggestions for gifts. Oh, and here’s the gold I’m supposed to give you. Now please go. Those children are so dear to me, and I’d really like you to get them something special. Thanks again!“

To me, it begins to look like she is paying the Dark Brotherhood fee here and giving the targets of each child. I see her as a hateful old woman who’d lost control over her children, and asserted final control with this murder-suicide.

Now she does come back as a ghost if you activate her tombstone and she attacks you, which shook me when I discovered that. Maybe she was meant to be an innocent lady who is avenging her slaughtered family. But, on reflection, the sort of person who’d undertake family annihilation via Dark Brotherhood would attack you as a ghost too. You were a tool she used, in this scenario, and now don’t have any use to her if you come bothering her grave. So I stand firm in my belief that Perennia is an evil, evil woman who took out her family when they wouldn’t obey her.