#she is such my go to the minute there needs to be a chaotic vibe in my work

[olives-and-lilies]

Been playing with more Limited Palette and Fashion shots, so here is Calloway being a gremlin for your viewing pleasure.

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 005 (PART 2)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [8.5k] A newfound diary, an emotional blast from the past, and a chaotic bonfire.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, fist fight/mild violence, jarah drama, sexual innuendoes,

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

for the house scene^

for the bonfire scene^

A/N‧₊˚ i'm sooo hyped, ik this song strays from the theme a bit but i really wanted a sexy lil tune for the bonfire scene AND this chapter has TWO SONGS because it's two diff vibes at once

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“JJ, GET UP.” You groaned for the last time, shoving your sock-clad feet into your shoes, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. 

“Mmmm…I am up.” He whined into the pillow, very much still sleep. You scoffed, walking over and snatching the blanket off of the blonde — a wave of cool air hitting his shirtless body. He whined, flipping over onto his back as his eyes blinked open. “Why would you do that?”

“Because, for one, it’s eight fifty-five. School starts at nine and we have a fifteen minute drive to get there. And, two, John B and Pope already left without us because they didn’t want to wait for you which means I am now responsible for driving you, which makes us both late.” You explained, tossing the boy one of his shirts and a pair of socks. 

“Mmph…fine.” He grumbled, sitting up and slipping the item over his head as he yawned. You kicked his shoes towards him as he slipped on his socks, walking out of the bedroom to find Marley on the couch. The dog perked up as her two favorite people exited the guest room. 

“Hi, girl.” You cooed, crouching down as the animal threw herself off the couch and into your arms. “How you feelin’?” You asked, scratching behind her ears before looking up to find Kie in the kitchen, lingering silently. She paced, fiddling with her fingers while struggling to hesitantly meet your eyes.

“Hey.” She said simply, eyes on you and JJ. You both sent the girl half-smiles, lips pulled into thin, tight lines. “I thought everyone had left, I didn't know you two were...I, um, I fed her so, you shouldn’t have to worry about that.” She told you, shoving her hands in her back pockets nervously. “How are you? Or is that a…bad question to ask?”

You just shrugged one shoulder, swallowing awkwardly. “A lot better. Thanks for asking…” You replied genuinely. The room was filled with such a strong tension. By this point, everyone knew about the kiss between JJ and Kie. And everyone knew that everyone knew. The three of you stood around avoiding each other’s gazes, the only sound being the birds outside and Marley’s heavy panting. It didn’t feel right to be so hostile with Kie after everything that happened yesterday. And plus, you guessed you never got her side of everything. But even if the tension was no longer volatile, it was still awkward and suffocating. 

“Well, we should get goin’...” JJ piped up.

“Yeah, yeah, totally.” Kiara waved off, tucking her hair behind her ear and grabbing her tote bag from the dining chair. “I’ll...see you guys later.”

“You aren’t going to school?” You asked, Kiara stopping with her hand on the door. 

“No, I have some stuff to do. But I’ll catch up later.” She said, holding her hand up as a goodbye. “See ya.”

You both watched as she left — hearing her sneakers crunch oddly fast through the gravel before the sound faded out. You looked to JJ as his voice rang out. “Is it my place to say that you two need to talk it out?”

You grimaced before walking forward, out of the front door and towards your parked car as JJ followed. “I don’t know…” You dragged on, opening the driver’s side door as JJ got into the passenger seat. “It’s weird now. We’re together and she likes you…”

“Eh, I don’t think so.” JJ shrugged as you started the car, shooting him a confused look as you pulled out. 

“What do you mean?” You asked. “She kissed you.”

“I mean, yeah, but it was like she didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to say anything last night because it didn’t feel right to bring it up.” He said, looking at you as you drove, admiring the way the morning sun illuminated your eyelashes. “She came to me last night in the Surf Shack and apologized, said she had her feelings mixed up. I guess she meant between me and Pope, maybe? I don’t know. But she made it clear that she doesn’t like me like that, at the very least. But apparently, she also broke things off with Pope so, I’m confused on what she meant. Either way, maybe you’re the person she needs to talk to.” He suggested cooly. “Just sayin’.”

“Hm.” You hummed in thought, eyes trained on the road as your eyebrows pinched. Maybe JJ had a point. But when Kie was ready to talk, she would.

YOU AND JJ ENTERED THE CLASSROOM JUST AS THE LATE BELL RANG, the teacher shooting you both a look of warning and motioning for you to take your seats. JJ sat in front of John B and you sat behind Pope — the four of you forming a perfect square. JJ shot the two boys looks of annoyance, the both of them holding up their hands in surrender.

You watched as Mrs.Ortiz, the geometry teacher, began passing out papers. Kids around you sighed and groaned, causing you and JJ to share a confused look. It wasn’t long before the teacher made her way to you all, setting a paper on John B’s desk. “Nice of you to join us.” She smiled sweetly at him. 

“Good to be back.” He smiled back at her, the expression quickly fading when he read the paper in front of him. His eyes went wide just as the woman placed a paper on your own desk — two pieces of paper stapled together, the first page of equations already giving you a migraine.

“A test?” John B asked Pope, appalled. The boy turned in his seat, pointing an accusatory finger at John B.

“I told you we had a test.” He reprimanded under his breath.

“No, you didn’t.”

“The first thing I said to you-”

“Was to wake up.”

“Because we had a test.”

“A test was never mentioned-”

“Psst. John B.” A random girl interrupted. John B turned to her curiously, quirking a brow as she passed him a piece of paper, the three of you looking weirdly at one another as he unfolded the note.

Bonfire C U There?

John B eyed the note with an unreadable expression, the three of you turning away from him slowly once Mrs.Ortiz began talking. “You all will have until the end of this period to turn in the quiz. No phones, no notes, and no calculators. Once you are done, you may-” She was cut off when the landline on her desk rang. “Excuse me a moment.” She dismissed herself, picking up the phone before exchanging a few words and hanging up, peering over the classroom full of students before her eyes landed on you. “Ms.Carter.” She called, your eyebrows raising in question.

“Yes?”

“They need you in the main office.” She said, looking sad and pitiful. She looked sorry for you. You didn’t know why. 

Your face twisted in confusion as you looked at your three friends and got up, not even taking a full step forward before she spoke again. “You may want to take your things with you.” She grimaced, clasping her hands together. “And no need to worry about the quiz. I’ll exempt you for today.”

Her mercy had you questioning what exactly they needed you in the main office for…

Scooping up your backpack, you shot JJ a look before walking out of the classroom.

WALKING INTO THE MAIN OFFICE, you spotted a familiar face. 

“Shoupe?” You asked, face twisting as the man turned to you — a nervous look plastered on his face as his hands clutched his utility belt. There was no one else in the office aside from the secretary and a teacher or two printing papers — the sounds of typing and phones ringing filling the atmosphere.

“What’s going on?” You asked the officer, eyes darting around the room as you hiked your bag up higher on your shoulder, subconsciously holding it tighter against you. The older man took in his surroundings, taking note of the peering eyes of the secretary. He motioned towards the door you had just walked through before speaking.

“Let’s talk outside…”

You unknowingly clenched your jaw, nodding and following the man out the door. He waited for it to close, looking up and down the empty school halls before speaking. “I don’t mean to pop up on you like this. I’m just…tryna make this whole thing a little easier on ya.” He claimed, licking his lips before continuing. “I don’t know if you or your friends watch the news but…we have your mom in custody.”

You nodded, drawing your lips into a thin line but allowing the man to continue talking. “She had her bail hearin’ this mornin’. Since she attempted to flee from police upon arrest, the judge didn't grant her bail so, she won’t be out any time soon. Just wanted to let you know that.” He explained, his eyes full of pity and regret. "...She's been askin' to see you."

You couldn't control your facial contorting out of disgust. Or anger, you didn't know. "No." You said bluntly and firmly. "I don't want to see her."

Shoupe just nodded, raising his eyebrows briefly. "Yeah...I figured as much." He informed. "No one's forcin' you, kid. Just relayin' the message." He said. “...Also, the department will be closing off your house as a crime scene early tomorrow mornin’. I’m not supposed to be doing this but…if ya have anythin’ that you’d like to take with you — clothes, jewelry — I’d suggest you gon’ and get it today before it ends up in an evidence locker.”

“...Thank you, Shoupe.” You expressed your gratitude, surprised at his change of heart. Maybe he felt bad for everything — knowing now just how much could've been avoided had he just listened to you and your friends to begin with.

“...’s the least I could do.” He mumbled, looking down at his shoes for a brief moment. “But there is one more thing, kid.”

“What is it?” You asked, a moment of silence passing as a janitor walked by whistling with his earbuds in — the pair of you allowing him to pass anyway before continuing the conversation.

“...Since you are still a minor and have no current legal guardian that's not...imprisoned or deceased, you are now considered a Ward of the State. And unless you find someone to claim legal guardianship over you, there’s nothin’ I can do to stop DCS from payin’ you a visit.”

“Oh.” You said simply, lips stuck in a pursed position. You didn't think about that part...

“Yeah…” The man sighed.

“...Should I warn John B, too? Since Ward was his legal guardian?”

“No, no, that’s not necessary.” Shoupe dismissed, waving you off. “With Ward’s…passing, guardianship had been transferred to Rose as she was Ward’s spouse. But we both know that Routledge has been on his own for a long time.”

“So…what should I do?” You asked.

“That’s up to you, kid.” Shoupe shrugged helplessly. “Just find someone to take ya in. And soon.”

“HEY! WAIT UP!” YOU CALLED OUT AS YOU SPOTTED YOUR THREE MALE FRIENDS OUTSIDE IN THE COURTYARD. First period had ended by the time you’d gotten done talking with Shoupe, kids gathered outside before the bell rang for second.

You caught up to your friends in seconds, Pope and JJ separating to make space for you to walk with them.

“Glad to see you’re back.” John B threw out. “What’d you do? Steal test answers?”

“You’re hilarious but I don’t cheat.” You sassed, squinting at him. “I can do a simple math problem, I know that’s a foreign thing to you-”

“I was just askin’ because us three who didn’t receive a ‘get out of geometry free pass’ were kind of dying in there.”

“Speak for yourself.” Pope threw out, smiling smugly. “Finished that quiz in ten minutes. That’s gotta be a world record.”

“Yeah,” JJ added sarcastically. “For geeks, maybe.”

Popee flipped off the blonde as you and John B laughed, walking up the concrete steps. “But seriously, what’d they need you for?” JJ asked, looking down at you and throwing an arm over your shoulder.

You didn't miss the way John B and Pope shot each other smirks and low high-fived.

You sighed but smiled smally at the contact and slight PDA. “Long story short — my mom was denied bail so she's in jail for good, they’re taping my house off as a crime scene tomorrow and I have until tonight to get my stuff, and I am now a state-certified orphan and will be snatched up by DCS soon unless someone comes to claim me.”

“Sounds like someone needs a Routledge-level crash course in ‘Dodging DCS 101’.” John B smiled, holding the straps of his backpack.

“Or I just need someone to sign some papers and say they’re willing to take care of me.” Suddenly, all eyes glued themselves to Pope, the boy immediately shaking his head.

“Nuh-uh.” He declined. “You know I would if I could and my parents would love to help you. But that’s a lot of paperwork and they need other things, like proof of income showing that they can support another child. And Heyward’s has been a little slow since the whole boat thing with Topper…”

You all hummed in agreement, understanding his point. “Don’t sweat it, Pope.” You assured, nudging his shoulder. “I’ll figure it out. Hey," You switched your attention to JJ, voice lowering as the other two guys now held their own conversation. "I'm probably gonna leave school a bit early to go my house. Just so I have enough time."

"You want me to come with?" The blonde asked.

"If you don't mind..." You said, nervously — not wanting to be a burden. "You don't have to. I just don't think going alone-"

"I want to." He reassured, pecking your cheek.

“Ahh....” A chipper voice chimed in, the four of you facing forward to find Mr.Sunn standing against the school exit door that was wide open. “Mr.Routledge, Mr.Maybank, Mr.Heyward, and Ms.Carter — just the students I wanted to see.” He smiled, guiding you each one by one into the school building.

“Wish I could say the same.” JJ replied as Mr.Sunn walked in behind you four — guiding you to his classroom and ignoring your boyfriend’s sassiness.

“I have a question of historical nature for you…” The teacher explained, walking into a storage closet within his classroom. “I digitize documents for the Maritime Museum, and in return, I have been given access to the archives.” He went on, searching up and down the shelves before pulling out a box. “And I found…this.”

“A box.” Pope deadpanned.

“More than a box.” Mr.Sunn smiled, placing the container down on his desk, the four of you crowding around as he opened it, revealing what looked like a worn, brown journal wrapped in plastic. “Go ahead, Mr. Heyward.” The instructor encouraged as Pope picked up the item. “Careful with that.”

You all watched as Pope unwrapped the item from its packaging, fiddling with the fabric knot that held the book closed.

“It’s a diary.” Mr. Sunn explained. “The author’s unknown.” You all watched as Pope undid the knot, pages and pages of writing revealing themselves. It was written in cursive, some pages partially or completely torn out. But you felt the tension in the room rise when Pope let the pages fall to the very first one — a wheat symbol sketched onto it.

The four of you shot each other looks as Mr.Sunn placed a paper on the desk. “This…is a sample of the Denmark Tanny letter.” He smirked, looking up at the group of you. “Compare the handwriting.” John B was quick to pick up the paper, holding it up next to Pope’s hand that held the diary open.

Peering over the two boys shoulders, you could see the two artifacts side by side — the handwriting was distinct. But the similarity was undeniable. It was obvious that the two documents were written by the same person, down to the curves and flicks of the pen.

“No way…”

“It’s nearly identical.”

“...This is Denmark Tanny’s diary.” Pope said in a hushed tone, eyes never leaving the papers. His fingers trailed the worn pages of the journal, flipping the page to find a drawing — a captain standing by as the figures in the background pushed ships into the water, a larger ship looming in the back. “Guys, this is Captain Limbrey.” Pope pointed out, tip of his index finger on the man with the hat atop his head, standing proudly. “...August sixth, eighteen twenty-nine.” He read aloud, sitting down on the nearest desk top.

“That’s the year the Royal Merchant went down.” John B informed, eyebrows downturned in pity.

“I thought you all might find it interesting.” The teacher spoke up.

“Thank you so much for this.” Pope whispered, still looking through the journal.

Mr.Sunn sat on the desk beside your friend, leaning in to speak. “It’s important to know your own history.” He told him, you all looking at him with wide eyes before he got up and walked to the back of the classroom once more, leaving the four of you to your thoughts.

“...Oh my God.” Pope sighed, his eyebrows pinching together. “This is the Cross of Santo Domingo.” He said, the three of  you sharing a look and walking over, crowding around behind him. It was a picture of some of the crew members carrying a large cross. “It was on The Royal Merchant.”

THE ENGINE OF YOUR FORD BRONCO DIED AS YOU TURNED THE VEHICLE OFF, looking up at the house you hadn't seen in over a month. To anyone else, it probably looked like a nice, normal home.

To you it looked haunted, forever shrouded in a cloud of darkness and gloom that would never go away.

"You want me to come in?" JJ asked, you only just now noticing him looking at you. You lowered your gaze to him, nodding as a response. He gave you a small smile before exiting the passenger seat and rounding the vehicle as you unbuckled your seatbelt to open your door and offer you a hand out of the car.

He shut your door after you climbed out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze as you walked the path up to the front door. To your surprise, it was already cracked ajar, only having to give the wood a push for it to creak open.

The lights were off, the only light coming from the open windows. The wood screeched beneath you and JJ's feet as you walked further inside, the blonde allowing your hand to slip slowly from his own as your eyes scanned everything.

You spotted a suitcase at the bottom of the steps — laid out in the floor, flipped open. Clothes, shoes, and stray dollar bills scattered around the abandoned trunk.

Was that what Shoupe meant when he said she attempted to run?

It looked like the caught her before she even made it out of the front door...

It was as if the place had been raided. The coffee table in the living room was lopsided and off center, the couch cushions looked like they'd been thrown back into place.

The patio door was open, and the kitchen told a different story —alcohol bottles scattered on the counter like centerpieces. The smell of liquor even lingered mildly in the air.

You didn't say a word as you edged towards the staircase, stepping over the fallen luggage and making your way up the stairs. Photo frames decorating the companionway upon the walls swung, hanging from a single screw.

You'd seen how many officers came the day Ward died. Just how many ran through your house? Or what remained of it...

Reaching the top of the stairs, even more clothes littered the floor. There was even a sizeable hole in the wall...

You took a deep breath, shaking off your nerves before walking further down the hall and pushing open the door to your room.

Surprisingly, it looked untouched —almost exactly how you remember leaving it.

Your bed was unmade, the blinds were open, even your midsummer's dress was still hung on the back of your closet door. Remembering that night put a smile on your face.

Everything was messed up...but not this messed up. John B didn't know that his girlfriend's dad had killed his and yours. Pope didn't have any personal connection to the gold that made him a target. Kiara was still living with her parents and you were still friends. You and JJ had just gotten out of jail and seen each other for the first time all day.

Looking back, maybe your friends were right. How could you not see it all this time? Remembering the way he froze seeing you in your dress, you paid no mind to it then. But now, it was like reliving the moment in your mind. He looked in awe. He looked in love. He looked like he had never seen you a day in his life. And when he smiled at you...

You would never forget that night.

Walking over to the item, your fingers brushed against the smooth material — a small, sad smile spreading across your cheeks.

"You should take it." JJ startled you, turning around to see him in the doorframe. You hadn't heard him come up the stairs.

"I don't have any use for it, now." You said mournfully. "It's not like I'll be going to another one..." You reflected, opening your closet all the way and grabbing the biggest duffel bag you owned, pulling tops and jackets off the hangers and throwing them in.

In your peripheral, you could see your boyfriend remove the dress from it's hanger — folding it and placing it in the duffel bag. "That may be true but you'll need a dress for all the five-star restaurants we visit when we go full Kook." He joked lightly, winking at you, the action putting a loving smile on your face. "Here, let me help." He offered, stepping next to you and grabbing your bottoms and shoes, putting them in the duffel bag as well.

To your surprise, the bag fit almost everything you planned on taking. You'd probably need another backpack but the closet was almost entirely empty when you spotted a box in the corner. You scrunched your eyebrows, crouching and reaching for the cardboard box in the corner, dragging it out.

There was something written in sharpie on the side — Dad's Stuff.

Your hand hovered over the box, forgetting you had it back there all this time. You didn't even remember what was inside. Looking up at JJ who was already staring down at you, the blonde gave you a silent supportive nod, encouraging you to open it.

Turning back, you carefully opened the top flaps — your eyes immediately spotting your dad's tattered and worn 'OBX' hoodie that you'd taken from his closet after he died. You wore it for weeks after his death — so much so that your perfume still lingered on it, mixed in with fading smell of his cologne that you somehow still remembered the distinct smell of.

You carefully lifted the item of clothing, brushing your thumbs against the rough fabric. The letters were fading and there were small lint-beads around the sleeves but that didn't diminish it's value. You handed the object to JJ, silently asking him to put it in the bag. The boy understood quickly, taking the hoodie from your hands as you fished around deeper in the box.

There wasn't much. What took up the most space was the hoodie considering it's thickness. All that remained was a scrapbook and an old family camera.

You picked up the book first — it was a father's day gift that you'd made him some years ago. 'To The BEST Dad in The World' scribbled in your third grade handwriting on the front. The book was thin, made from construction paper and glitter.

Flipping it open, it was filled with pictures of you and your dad — on several of your birthday's, pictures of you both blowing out the candles because you refused to do it without him. One of his guitar picks was glued to a page, surrounded by a heart of glitter with a small sentence at the bottom — 'I stole this from you because it's my favorite and I don't want to lose it.'

You let the pads of your fingers trace the pages, eyes scanning over the small art project once more before closing it and setting it to the side with one hand, using the other to pick up the camera.

You fiddled with the object in your palms, eyes widening when, to your surprise, it came on as you held the power button. You vividly remembering your dad taking the camera almost everywhere you went — on family picnics, small road trips, birthday parties. He didn't use it as much when you got older.

You pressed the playback button, the last video he ever recorded popping up with the play button. You didn't hesitate, pressing play on the video as the terrible audio quality filled the silence of your room.

"Well, it's doomsday, people. Y/N has her very first pimple." His voice made your heart skip a beat. You hadn't realized until now that you hadn't heard it almost year.

"Dad, stop!" A fourteen-year old you whined, palming the lens of the camera. "It's ugly and huge..."

"You should let your old man pop it-"

"Ew, gross! No way..." You chuckled. Your voice was so much higher, you didn't even recognize it. "And please, stop recording. This is not funny."

"Okay, okay…" he said, turning the camera around to face himself. "Well, bossy pants says no more recording, so we're cutting it short today." He faked a frown before smiling mischievously and turning the camera back around to you for a quick second. You were hunched over the sink looking in the mirror when you saw the camera and ducked out of the way.

"Dad!" You whined. "Seriously!"

"Okay! Okay..." He laughed, the video ending abruptly. You immediately pressed the back arrow, skimming through photo after photo before coming across another video — a much older one.

"Alright, I think it's on. So, to whoever is watching this, my baby girl just learned her first guitar chord and beat her own record, all in one day. Tell them how deep you dove today, sweetheart." He prompted, spinning the camera to what looked like a ten-year old you sitting on your front porch — hair still slightly damp and wild.

"Thirty feet!" You cheered, voice even higher in this recording. You had his guitar in your lap.

"That's right!" Your father applauded from behind the camera, walking around to stand in front of you and get a good view. "She's a little natural. But now we're on to our lessons before she leaves me for her friends. Tell the people what chords you learned."

Your small frame was perched on the front steps, sun beaming on you. "E-minor, A-minor, and...uh...E."

"Good job!" He smiled, voice dropping to a whisper only the camera could hear. "She picked out the chords herself, I had no say." The statement made you laugh a bit, wiping away a stray tear as you continued to watch the video. "Whenever you're ready, sweetheart."

You watched as little you positioned the instrument under your arms and your fingers in between the frets before strumming. It was gappy and you hesitated in between switching chords but the video made you smile nonetheless.

Once you were done, you looked up at the camera with a smile. "How was that?"

"That was beautiful, angel." Your dad said softly behind the device, walking closer to you and turning it around so it now recorded the both of you. "This is me and my little pufferfish-slash-popstar and we're signing off. Wave goodbye, Y/N."

"Byeee!" You cheesed and waved wildly, your dad doing this same as the video cut — stuck on the last frame showcasing both of your bright smiles.

You stared at it, silently crying. You let your tears fall, sniffing periodically when you felt a hand ease it's way onto your back. Turning swiftly and dropping the camera into your duffel bag, you turned and pushed your face into JJ's chest, wrapping your arms around his torso tightly.

You could feel his body tense and his hands freeze — he didn't know what to say or how to properly comfort you. Or if was he meant to comfort you as a friend or a lover.

He pondered for a moment before returning the tight embrace, kissing the top of your head before laying his on top of your own. He swayed lightly with you in his arms, allowing you to cry quietly into his shirt.

"Why did all of this have to happen?" You mumbled into his shirt. "Why are our lives the ones that had to fall apart?"

The blonde didn't have an answer for you, so he just chose to hold you instead — comforting you until you were ready and didn't need the need the comfort anymore.

He wasn't sure if he was meant to comfort you as a friend or as a lover — so he settled on comforting you as a person.

And he held you as long as you needed until you were all cried out, the two of you taking your bags of clothes, the scrapbook, the camera, the hoodie, and most importantly — your dad's guitar out of the house you hoped to never see again.

“GUYS,  THIS IS FROM DENMARK’S DIARY.” Pope said. You were back at The Chateau, feeling a lot better now, and he hadn’t put the book down since he got it. You were surprised he hadn’t finished it by now. You’d seen the boy finish larger books in a matter of hours. “...‘August fifteenth, set sail from Port-au-Prince on calm seas.’” He read aloud, the sun beaming behind him. “...’Came up on the Spanish ship San Jose on fire. The entire deck was aflame. We could hear the screams of men trapped below.’” You cringed at the words, not being able to imagine the agony.

“‘The Spanish Captain cared about only one thing, his valuable cargo — The Cross of Santo Domingo and countless bars of gold. Once the cargo was on board, went to help the crew, but Captain Limbrey ordered us to pull bayonets and not to let any of the Spanish crew on board.” He paused, eyes softening before continuing to read. “...’He robbed them and left them to die.’”

Pope concluded, closing the journal and letting it fall on the table before taking a seat in the empty chair next to John B.

“So, it didn’t go down off Bermuda.” JJ offered, fiddling with a lighter as he laid outstretched between your legs, his head against your thighs as you laid against the arm of the patio sofa.

“And it was a Limbrey stealing shit again.” Kiara added.

“This diary proves that both the gold and the cross of Santo Domingo were on the Royal Merchant.” Pope put together, leaning his arms on his thighs. 

“Why didn’t we find the cross in the well, then?” JJ asked, his blonde hair getting blown into his face by the wind, you brushing it gently out of his vision as he continued explaining his thought process. “I mean, if Denmark was able to get this, like, bedazzled cross off of the Merchant to the shore, why didn’t he just hide it with the gold?”

“...Because it was too big.” John B realized. 

“You’re right.” Pope nodded, eyeing his two friends and nodding as his brained pieced the puzzle together. “He had to hide it someplace else…”

“But where?” You thought aloud.

“...Right before he was hung, Denmark said he buried the treasure at the foot of the angel.” Pope said.

“Wait,” JJ paused. “I thought this was about the key?” He pondered. “What’s the connection here?”

Pope sighed, pulling the aforementioned key from his pocket — the one he found in his grandma’s parlor. “The path to the tomb begins in the island room…” He said, reading the secret message revealed by the key, trying to mentally search for clues.

“But what is the island room?” Kiara groaned, throwing her head back.

“Y’know what helps me figure shit out?” JJ threw out, tossing the lighter onto the outdoor table, eyes focused on Pope. “Smokin’ beers and drinkin’ weed.” He said proudly, your face twisting in confusion. “The ideas just start to pour out of me. If we just sit here and try to figure this out, we’re gonna get nowhere.” He said seriously, sitting up to look at his friends more directly. “But if we get creative and go to this bonfire tonight? Maybe we get somewhere.”

“I think you just want an excuse to go to a bonfire.” You added, a smug look on your face as he turned to look at you, his hair messed up from laying in your lap.

“Shh…” He quieted with a finger to your lips, your eyes fleeting between the digit and his eyes. “You just haven’t mastered the technique to greatness yet. This is a plan of master intelligence. Drunk minds lead to sober finds, baby.”

You scoffed, lightly brushing his fingers from your lips as Kie spoke.

“Well, I just got disowned by my parents…and I’m an official member of the I-have-nothing-to-lose club.” She smiled, throwing her hands out.

“Pope?” JJ turned to the boy, a question on his lips. You all could see the denial brewing in his eyes, JJ catching it before any words left Pope’s lips. “Look — think about how much you could think if you just gave your brain a rest.”

He seemed to sit on the thought, looking at each of you individually before caving in. “...Okay, fine.”

“That’s a yes, folks. We’re headed out!” JJ exclaimed, jumping up from his place as the other three did the same, heading towards the van. You were getting up on your own before the blonde’s hand went under your arms, lifting you into his embrace. Your arms wound around his neck as he carried you happily. “First couple bonfire, baby!” He smiled, looking into your eyes. “You gotta do keg stand with me.”

THE BONFIRE — AN OUTER BANKS TRADITION. It’s the same weekend every year. Everyone goes. Literally everyone. After finding a fortune, and losing it, a little fun around a fire couldn’t hurt, right?

The party was in full swing by the time you’d all arrived, the entire party recognizing your small group by the sight of The Twinkie. JJ helped you out of the van, your ears immediately attacked by the loud cheering, endless chatter, and raging music. 

The only real light was the huge bonfire in the center of the party — the flames lit in a small pit of the abandoned skatepark that happened to be this years secret location. Kiara and Pope went off on their own almost as soon as they left the van — the two getting into a small dispute on the way over. Pope believed that if Kie listened to her parents instead of arguing, she could go back home. Kiara disagreed and told Pope that he sounded like her dad.

You, JJ, and John B were already grabbing beers from a cooler — the two boys swallowing theirs down within seconds. John B did his own complaining on the way over — not a single sentence spoken without the mention of Sarah Cameron.

“And she was like ‘that’s it’. She done with me.” He whined, even after downing a beer.

“I know, but dude? Her father blew up in front of her.” JJ reminded, clapping a hand on the boys shoulder. 

“J’s right, John B.” You said, sipping your own beer as you looked around at the party goers. “ Just give her a minute-” You were cut off when a beer can clattered at all three of your feet, looking up to find the girl who’d passed John B that note in class with a lazy smile on her face.

“Hey, derelicts!” She shouted, giggling drunkenly.

“Hey!” JJ exclaimed, kicking the beer droplets from his shoes. “There she is…” He mumbled, side-eyeing JB. “That’s all you, my friend.” He said, throwing an arm over your shoulder and walking away from John B. “I’m outta here.” He said, throwing a peace sign over his shoulder.

The two of you walked away with bright smiles on your faces, laughing.

“Was I good wingman back there? One through ten...” JJ asked, a light smile on his face. 

“Eh. I’ll give you an eight.” You shrugged lightheartedly.

“An eight?” He asked, his arm slipping from your shoulder to hold your hand as he turned to talk to you, face to face. “Where’d my other two points go?”

“You lost them because for one, that’s the same girl he made out with last year and never texted back because he said she was trashy and desperate. But neither of you remember that.” You reprimanded jokingly. “And two, I do feel kind of bad. Sarah’s probably somewhere crying and John B’s out here flirting with some girl…” 

JJ groaned, stepping closer to you. “Trust me — Sarah is not moping around. I’ll bet you a million dollars that she’s with her knight in shining armor right now.”

“JJ, that’s not fair-”

“But it’s the truth. I know you two are sort of friends again but you can’t seriously tell me that you don’t think she ran to Topper.” You chewed the inside of you cheek, squinting your eyes.

“...I say have some faith in her.” You challenged, shifting your weight and crossing your arms, a mischievous smile on your face.

JJ chuckled, downing the remaining portion of his beer before taking your face in his hand gently, rubbing a thumb over your cheek as he looked down at you — the fire illuminating the side of your face beautifully. “You’re cute.” He cooed. “Twenty bucks says Sarah ran back to Topper and they’ll show up tonight.”

“And if I’m right?” You contested, cocking an eyebrow. “If they don't?” You asked, eyes on the blonde’s lips.

“Well, that’s up to you.” He said, fighting a smile as his eyes bored into yours. “What do you want?...” He asked, voice just above a whisper.

Your tongue traced the inside of your mouth as your eyes scanned his face. The two of you had been dating for less than twenty-four hours and the tension was already suffocating. And you were in public, for that matter. But for some reason, that fact didn’t affect you all that much.

“Yo, Maybank!” A deep, brassy voice rang out — JJ turning around as you peered over his shoulder to find one of the football players with his hands up. “Beer pong?” He offered, holding a ping pong ball between his fingers. 

JJ turned back to you, a raised eyebrow. You just shrugged as the boy took your hand, walking you over. “Yeah, me and my girl are playin’!”

“AND THAT’S THREE TO ZEROOO!” JJ TAUNTED AS HIS PING PONG BALL LANDED IN THE OTHER TEAMS LAST CUP, beer sloshing as the round object hit the liquid. The people surrounding you cheered as the other team, the football player and his girlfriend, groaned and downed the cup of beer.

You’d been playing for at least half an hour, you and JJ consuming more beer than a dad of three on a football Sunday. JJ was no lightweight. You, on the other hand, have never been too good at controlling yourself after your third or fourth drink. There were different types of drunks — the loud one, the whiny one, the vomiter...

You were the touchy drunk. The flirtatious drunk. And the countless cups of beer were just starting to kick in — your body feeling warm and tingly as the night went on.

A chill traveled up the length of your spine when JJ pulled you into a celebratory hug, lifting you off your feet and planting a quick kiss on your lips. It was such an odd thing — all these feelings you had for him just seemed to amplify.

You did mean it when you said you saw him as a friend. Most of the time. Before you were together or expressed feeling for each other, you had moments here and there where you saw JJ from a not-so friendly perspective. You may have a had a little crush on him but who didn’t? He was hot.

So, yeah, maybe you’d stare a little longer than appropriate when he’d take his shirt off at the beach and maybe, just maybe, him calling you princess would make your heart beat a little faster and maybe that’s why you would tell him stop.

But now, you were his girlfriend. And he was your boyfriend. And even a day into dating, he had no problem showing it. His hands never hesitated when he wanted them on you and if your lips were there, trust and believe he’d kiss them. He’d take the time to help you out of and into the van and he seemed to love throwing his arm around your shoulder.

The little touches and looks ignited a new fire in you and with the liquor running through you, the small flame inside was more like a wildfire. Ever since everything that happened with Rafe, you hadn’t really felt comfortable when it came to intimacy. But something about JJ made it feel like you weren’t treading in such deep water without knowing how to swim. You felt safe.

“Alright, we’re done. Go find someone else to kick your ass.” JJ joked as he set you down, taking a few steps to give his friend a bro-hug, clapping each other on the shoulder. JJ held out his hand when he turned back to you. You eagerly put your hand in his, the two of you walking away and towards the center of the pit where people were sitting and dancing around the fire.

The blonde sat down and motioned for you to do the same, his hand never unlinking from yours until you were completely sat and comfortable. “...You done already?” You asked, watching as JJ perked up at the sound of your voice.

“What do you mean?” He asked, eyebrows cinching curiously.

“This is your, like, natural habitat.” You laughed, motioning to the party around you. “Normally, you go from shotgunning beers to the keg stand within fifteen minutes.”

He laughed lightly at your observation, his head dipping down for a moment. “Yeah, I guess…”

“Soooo?...” You questioned, a tipsy smile on your face. 

“...I don’t know.” He sighed, looking at you. The bonfire illuminated his hair, making it look borderline golden. “I don’t wanna tire you out. I know you’re still recovering from...you know-”

“Pfft-” You cut him off. “Don’t worry about meee…” You groaned, shaking the boys shoulders. “I’m fine. I don’t even know what Barry gave me-”

“Yeah, I know.” JJ said seriously. “That’s the problem. I probably shouldn’t have even let you down that many beers…”

“JJ.” You deadpanned, a semi-drunken pout on your lips. “I’m fine.”

“...No one is really fine after something like that.” He said sadly, looking you in the eyes.

In truth, he was right. The events of yesterday had been playing in your mind since you woke up. Little flashes, here and there. It made it so hard to sleep — and you prayed you wouldn’t have a repeat of last summer all over again. You may not remember every single event but you couldn’t seem to forget how the entire ordeal made you feel. Helpless, disgusting…alone. But you figured, you got through it all once, right? What was one more time?

You didn’t want to bring down the mood and it was clear that’s where this was headed. So when your ears cued in on the song playing over the speakers, a bright smile planted itself on your face as you stood up, holding a hand out for JJ that he took without hesitation. But not without question.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“Dance with me.”

“Ah, I don’t think this is really a slow dancing song, princess.” He protested, a sheepish smile on his face. “And I don’t know how to do that, anyway.”

“Who said anything about slow dancing?” You asked as if he asked a ridiculous question. “We’re at a bonfire, not a debutante ball.” You joked.

“A what?”

“Oh my God.” You sighed with a smile. “Just dance with me, you loser.” You urged, spinning in his arms so that you were facing away from him and pressing yourself against him, putting both of his hands on your waist as you swayed against him.

“Oh-” JJ said, your quick movements catching him off guard before he seemed to find himself. “This kind of dancing.” He said — his fingers pressing into the exposed skin of your waist as he matched your movements. Your own hands trailed up his arms — one steady feeling up his bicep as the other traveled up to the nape of his neck.

Normally, you’d be a little nervous in a situation like this. But with the alcohol, the fact that most of the people around were too drunk to notice, and the consideration of the other ten couples that were nearly tongue-fucking one another scattered around the skate park — a little grinding was the least of anyone’s concerns.

You were surprised when you felt the skin of JJ’s lips brush against the skin of your neck, the hairs standing up at the contact. You could faintly hear him humming the lyrics of the song — the combination of his featherlight touch and the sound of his voice making one dangerous duo.

You didn’t realize you were subconsciously pushing yourself further into him until you felt the familiar feeling of something pressing into your backside, the same feeling you felt in Charleston. You were starting to take it as a compliment. And he didn't seem as apologetic this time around.

At the feeling of him pressed against you, you craned your neck to look at him when the boy wasted no time in encapsulating your lips with his — a sloppy, passionate kiss as you both swayed against each other. You swore you heard a wolf-whistle somewhere but you paid no mind, turning in JJ’s hold to wrap both arms around his neck as he pulled you even closer into him.

One of his hands started to trace your spine all the way down to your ass when shouting distracted you both.

“Relax!” You both broke your exchange, turning around to see Sarah, John B, Topper, and the girl you’d left John B with all in each other’s faces.

“Why don’t you just leave, Sarah?” The girl sassed, the entire party quieting down aside from the people egging on the altercation, flashlights coming on as people started to record. “You aren’t even together anymore-”

“Why are you still talking?!” Sarah exclaimed, hands in the girls face.

“Have a little respect. Her dad just died!” Topper jumped in, reprimanding the girl.

“Shut up, Kook!” She spat, chin up. “Back off!” She warned, pushing Topper back with one arm.

“What’s going on?” Pope asked from beside you and JJ — him and Kiara seeming to have made their way through the crowd.

“The confrontation of the century.” JJ laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “You owe me twenty dollars, princess.” He whispered, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. You didn’t miss the way Pope’s eyes squinted, you turning to look at him. The curly-haired boy pointed back and forth between you and JJ, raising an eyebrow and crossing his fingers — a silent question.

You nodded, a sheepish smile on your face. Pope smiled and held out his fist, waiting for you to bump yours with his. You scoffed, giving him a fist bump. You couldn’t turn back to face the argument without meeting Kie’s eyes that no doubt saw the interaction between you and Pope. She looked sad. Disappointed, almost.

“She’s a real gem.” Sarah said sarcastically to John B.

“What am I to you, huh?” He challenged, stepping closer to Sarah as Topper and the girl argued in the background. “Am I just another one? Like him?” He questioned, motioning towards Topper.

“She just another groupie to add to your collection?” Sarah retorted, standing toe to toe with the boy.

“Sarah, it doesn’t matter-” Topper tried but he went ignored.

“Did I mean anything to you?!” Sarah’s voice rose, her fists balling at her sides as Topper tugged on her arms.

“You’re questioning me when you’re here with your ex?!” John B shouted back.

“Did you tell her?!”

“Are you serious?!”

“Hey, back off!” Topper stepped in eventually, eye to eye with John B. “You wanna start some shit right now?!”

“Do I wanna start some shit?...” John B asked menacingly, head held high.

“Come on, John B! Kick his ass!” Some random bystander yelled, phone in hand. The four of you looked at one another nervously.

“Should we…?” Kiara dragged out.

“Yeah.” Pope answered the half-asked question, the four of you wrestling your way through the mob of people to reach your friends. Too preoccupied with pushing your way through, you couldn’t see what was happening. But you could hear.

“They all know what happened last time!” That was Topper.

“Just get out! Go!” Sarah. Who was she talking to?

“I’ll beat your ass!” Topper. Again.

“Get out of here, Topper!” John B said.

“Hey!” A new voice. “She don’t want you anymore, bro!” Was that Kelce? 

“Shut the hell up...” John B warned, pushing the boy out of his face. You were able to see this happen just as the four of you made it to the center where they stood.

“What’re you gonna do, John B?” He pressed. “Kill me like you killed Sheriff Peterkin? Huh?” Wrong move, Kelce. Wrong. Move. “Do something!-” And something was indeed done as John B doubled back to punch the boy in his jaw, sending him stumbling back into the crowd.

Topper took the opportunity to charge at JB, grabbing him up by his shirt and tossing him to the ground. This urged you and your friends to jump in, the crowd closing in.

“Hey!” The four of you yelled angrily, pushing people out of the way.

“Move!” You shouted, forcefully shoving bodies out of you way. “Get the f- move!” You broke through just in time to see the girl John B was chatting up push Sarah to the concrete, JB calling the blonde’s name. You shoved the girl away, seeing her tumble on her ass. “Move, bitch!”

“What’s your problem?!” Kiara shouted at the girl as well, emerging next to you after witnessing the assault herself. “You all right?” Kie asked Sarah as the girl pushed herself up.

“What the hell?!” The girl that pushed her screamed. “Whose side are you on?!”

“She’s our friend!” You retorted. “Guys!” You shouted, looking around for your three male friends — spotting them to your right. John B was being pinned down by Topper, Pope had bum rushed half a dozen people to get to him, and JJ had leaped over one of the short walls to help his friend.

Pope went straight for Kelce who was helping Topper jump JB — taking a few nasty hits to his torso before managing to subdue the boy.

JJ had his sights on Topper — snatching the boy off of his best friend and into a chokehold.

“JJ!” You shouted, you and Kie rushing over. “We have to leave!” You warned, not getting too close.

“It’s not worth it, guys, come on!” Kiara bellowed.

Pope was the first one to ground himself, pushing Kelce off of him and to the concrete before gathering JJ and John B. “C’mon, we’re done!” He rushed, pushing the two boys ahead of him.

“We good?” JJ asked John B, full of adrenaline. He was on a streak, huh? 

“We’re good.” John B exasperated, adjusting his shirt.

The five of you walked away from the party, JJ grabbing your hand so he didn’t lose you in the crowd. Piling into the van, the five of you sped off watching the chaos continue through the vehicle windows.

“WELL, THAT WAS A LITTLE UNEXPECTED.” JJ pointed out the obvious, crushing an empty beer can in his hand and leaning against the van. You’d stopped at a convenience store, The Twinkie parked outside. You and JJ had gone inside to get drinks as John B sat inside, legs outstretched in front of him with a cold beer pressed to his head, Kiara and Pope sitting up front with Kie in the driver’s seat. 

“Was it?” She protested, pulling her face together.

“Couldn’t just have one night without some shit going on.” Pope sighed angrily, throwing his head back.

“Hey, maybe she’ll come around.” JJ tried the optimistic approach, eyes on John B who looked like he couldn’t be more over it if he tried.

“...It’s like everything that happened to us didn’t matter.” John B said sadly, looking at his shoes. “And maybe it doesn’t.”

“I’VE HAD MORE BLACK EYES IN THE LAST MONTH THAN I’VE EVER HAD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.” Pope said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. It wasn’t as gloomy as it was in the van on the way back, but the gray cloud was still there.

You were all back at The Chateau now, crowded around your own bonfire. You and JJ sat on one bench, Marley curled up at your feet while John B and Kie sat on another, Pope having a lawn chair all to himself as him, you, and JB roasted marshmallows.

“That was building up for years.” JJ said, taking a bite out of his fresh hot pocket as you laid your head on his shoulder, roasting your marshmallow. “Rumble in the jungle.” He joked through a mouth full of food.

“Hey,” John B spoke up, eyes running between you and Kie. “Did you guys really stick up for Sarah?”

You simply shrugged. “Yeah, look like she needed it.” You said bluntly, not in a mean way. Just matter of factly. “Pogues and Kooks fight different. Sarah isn’t the fighting type, not the pogue fighting type anyway.”

“Of course I did.” Kie replied after. “She’s not a real Kook.”

“Yeah, tell that to Topper.” Pope threw out. It went silent for a few moments, the only sounds being the crickets and the crackling of the fire. And the chickens in the coop. They were oddly active tonight.

At the sound of their incessant clucking, John B’s eyes furrowed — turning around and staring off into the distance. You paid no mind to it as JJ plucked your freshly roasted marshmallow of the stick and ate it just as you’d brought it to your lips.

“Ah- hey!” You removed your head from his shoulder, pushing him playfully.

“Sorry, got a little hungry.”

“You have an entire hot pocket in your hand.”

“Yeah, but-” He was cut off when you dipped your head down taking a huge bite out of his hot pocket — the steaming food causing you to breathe wildly while chewing. “That’s what your ass gets.” He laughed, his amusement dying when Marley took the opportunity to snatch the remaining portion of the item from his hand, gulping in down in few bites. “What the hell?!”

Your own laughter erupted, almost causing you to choke on the bite of food – JJ patting your back to help out when John B shushed you. The four of you looked at him.

“What?” Pope asked.

“...Someone’s here.” He said, standing up from his seat and taking slow steps towards the chicken coop.

“You don’t think Topper would…?” Kiara threw out the possibility. 

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” JJ said, trying to find whatever it was John B was looking at. The four of you stood up, trailing behind John B.

“Hey, who’s out there?!” John B called, the five of you creeping around the bushes and trees.

“You Kooks better not try anything!” Kie warned aloud.

Suddenly, a figure emerged. “How y’all doing?” You couldn’t help but loudly smack your teeth and roll your eyes — it was no one other than the creepy guy that ran with Limbrey. 

“Not this motherfucker…” You sighed. "Don't you have a job?"

“You gotta be kidding me.” JJ complained beside you.

“Lovely evenin’ we’re havin’.” He smiled, walking towards you all and out of the woods with his hands up in surrender.

“Lovely evening we were having.” You corrected, a grimace on your face. “Go away.” You dead panned. “Creeping in the woods and peeping on minors is odd. And a felony-”

“You know, out of all of you, I think I like you the least.” He said.

“Is this where I’m supposed to fall to my knees in tears?” You sassed. “For someone dressed like a low budget G.I. Joe, I don’t think you should be too worried about me.”

“Look, I didn't come here to fuss ‘n fight.” He said. “I don’t hold a grudge with any of y’all, all right?” He reassured, slapping his hands against his thighs. “But this can go hard,” He said, patting himself down and holding his jacket open as he spun around to show that he was unarmed. “Or this can go easy.” He said plainly, throwing his arms out.

He was in front of you all now, surveying you each one by one. “You know what I’m here for.” He smiled. “Lemme give you a little demonstration, you see that swing?” He asked, pointing to the tire swing in hanging from the large tree in the backyard. “I got the best bow hunters in the Army Rangers with me.”

“Yeah?” JJ challenged.

“Mhm.” The man hummed, whistling two times before an arrow went whizzing through the air, embedding itself into the oak of the Magnolia Tree. The object startled some of your friends, you and JJ’s eyes glued to the man as he walked circles around you five. “They’ll stick you just as soon as I say so.” He threatened, stepping into Pope’s space.

JJ walked up behind him when an arrow flew right beside your ear, landing right at the blonde’s feet. You’d forgotten all about Marley until you heard her growl from beside you, looking down to see her eyes glued to the man as she bared her teeth.

You’d never heard her growl so lowly before. And maybe it was time to start teaching her some new tricks if she was going to be by your side through all this. Maybe you were both changing...

“Nuh-uh.” He warned, eyeing JJ before turning his smug grin back to Pope. “Now, I’m not gonna give you a countdown or any bullshit like that. I’m just gonna whistle.” He said bluntly, eyes boring into Pope’s who was breathing heavily, nostrils flared.

It was a tense few moments — It was Pope’s choice. But was it really? Were there really any choices at all? The air grew stiff and suffocating as you watched your friend dig into his pocket, his hand emerging with the real key this time.

He was about to hand it over when he clutched it, holding it to his chest. “No.” He muttered, shaking his head as he pressed his lips together. “This key belongs to my family.” He hissed.

The man laughed, pacing shortly on his feet. “I am losin’ my patience with you, Pope.” He informed, eyes void yet full of evil all at once. He turned back to Pope, putting two fingers to his lips, preparing himself to give the signal to his men in the woods when Pope handed over the key.

He smiled, taking the item with no urgency. “You did the right thing, kid.” He commended. “Knowing when you don’t have a choice is an underappreciated talent. You be safe, now.” He waved off, turning and walking through the remaining four of you. “Y’all have a good night.” He bid farewell as he disappeared into the trees again, multiple footsteps shuffling in the greenery to follow him out.

Pope stood there, panting like an angry bull. You’d never seen him so furious. Pope was the voice of reason. He was the level-headed one. The rational one.

Not whatever this was.

“...I am so sick, of this shit.” He rasped, his anger not allowing him to move his voice above an infuriated whisper. He shook his head, fists balled tightly as he walked off.

And you stood wondering just how much more personal was this going to get.

next chapter>

[rooksamoris]

Amora, thoughts on this? And how can it be applied to the scarabia duo

omg my cousin sent me this video too!!

in regard to JAMIL <3

he definitely gives me cat person vibes (literally everyone in the middle east/north africa is a cat person from armenia to oman to algeria). i headcanon that scarabia has a bunch of cats around the place. jamil carries heavy baskets of laundry while kittens brush by his bare ankles as he walks about.

its so funny to sit beside him while the cats hide under his hair.

"Ah--out of my hair," he grumbles, pulling the kitten away from his hair. Its tiny claws were clinging to the thick strands, tangling them up with its excitable movements. When he sees the amusement on your face, he rolls his eyes and places the kitty in your lap, gently. He was always so mindful of how he held them, "Pull their hair instead, Za'afaraan (saffron)," he commands. He named the cats in Scarabia after spices. How cute.

i bet he and his family would go on park days too. it's a quick and cheap way of them getting to enjoy each other's company, but it is always so short lived. his responsibilities to kalim are all consuming.

Najma leaned over and glanced at her brother's phone, "Can't you put that down for a minute, himar (donkey)?" she asked, gesturing to the ma'amoul (date stuffed biscuit) and chai that was in front of them. His father had bought it from the souq (market) and his mother made the tea. It was the recipe she had taught him years ago. Jamil rolled his eyes, and shoved his sister's cheek away, "I need to make sure he stays at the estate." He kept his gaze away from his parents. There had to be some sort of tension and guilt... "Yeah, whatever..." Najma trailed off, before sipping her own tea. Her fingers traced over patterns on the sheet they sat on. Ornate swirls and floral motifs. Her unsaid words were weaving their way into the designs, never to be said, but to be seen in her dark eyes. When was the last time they had even spent family time like this? Her brother sighs and breaks his ma'amoul in half, "Here," he says, setting his phone down. Hopefully for longer than a few minutes.

as for KALIM!!

im sure he loves all animals, but cats?? he loves them, especially big cats. you can't tell me that the al-asim family don't have their own version of raja from aladdin. it gives jamil a heart attack at first, but soon enough this tiger is kalim's favorite thing in the world. the tiger ends up trained to protect and coddle kalim. whenever he's in the scalding sands, after greeting all his siblings, he rushes into the fur of his tiger.

"Ra'isa!" he yells, as he leaps against the large tiger. His arms wrapped around her back and then he nuzzled his cheek to its fur. There was a grin on his face as Ra'isa began to curl her body around him. You just stared in a mix of fear and apprehension. You glance between him and the tiger that was cuddling up to him. Of course, you expected chaos when you decided to visit the Scalding Sands with your boyfriend, but this? "Uhm..? Kalim..?" When his ruby eyes notice the look on your face, he laughs and grabs your hand, pulling you closer, "Don't worry. Ra'isa is very friendly with people I like," he reassures, guiding your hand over her fur. Ra'isa leaned into your touch, sensing her owner's adoration for you. When she curled her head in your direction, her face found its way to your belly, clearing signalling for your to scratch behind her eyes. Kalim leaned against the big cat, watching you with a look of joy. His two favorite people were getting along.

kalim's family is MASSIVE. i don't imagine they all go out too often due to how much security would be needed, but they all definitely have chaotic tea parties. you'd think with all that wealth the kids would not have to fight over who gets the last piece of ma'amoul or the last bite of fatta tamr (yemeni dish. its just small pieces of bint al-sahn mixed with minced dates and honey).

Kalim was holding up a box of assorted Turkish Delights away from all of his younger siblings who immediately rushed to his side when they heard he had brought them. He laughed as they reached up their short arms for the box, "There's enough for everyone, just get into a line," he said. The box was full enough to give each of them three pieces of the treats, and yet they still argued about who would get the first piece.

overall, yeah. arab men aren't scary. they literally kiss their homies good night, since when you greet a friend or are leaving for the night, you kiss each other's cheek.

[idontplaytrack]

“bye, softie jr.”

Rosa Diaz x teen daughter! reader

warnings: the squad being their usual chaotic selves & rosa being an (over) protective mama. (i love rosa being soft, lol)

in which, the 99 finally meets y/n. unplanned.

continuation to “you’re a softie”

You always wondered how it was possible that no one on the squad’s somehow run into you while you were out with Rosa. Your Mom’s somehow never run into her colleagues outside of work, while she was with you, at least. Due to your closeness in age, the two of you have been mistaken for siblings on many occasions. And on this fine day, you had a first date gone…bad and needed keys to get home. But you left them at home since you left home the same time as Rosa that day to go to school. After school let out at 2:30, you went to lunch with Amelia from your Social Studies class. She was nice, and you liked her- but at the end of the lunch, you’ve come to realise you didn’t actually like her the way you thought you did. Being a 15-minute walk away from the precinct, you decided to use the fact that you needed the house keys as an excuse to mess with her. She wasn’t against you meeting them, thus you your decision to go to the 9-9. Stepping out of the elevator and entering the bullpen, you headed straight for Rosa’s desk barely having to look where you were going.

“Been expecting you. How was the date?”

“Fine, but that was also the last.” You told her and she pulls the one earbud you had in, off. Just for the heck of it.

“Why? Did they do anything-”

“No, I just don’t really vibe with her at all, that’s all. I’m perfectly fine.” You assured.

“Good.”

“I need your keys. Forgot to grab mine since we left together this morning.”

You could feel the eyes on you but you tried to ignore them.

“Here.” She opens up her drawer to get them, “Be home when I’m home. Otherwise, I can’t get in.”

“Of course.” You stifled a laugh, “What time do you clock out?”

“From the looks of it, 6:30? Maybe 7. I’ll pick up dinner on the way, how’s that?”

“That’s great.” You gave her a big smile on purpose just to see how she’d react.

“Hey, Rosa.” Amy says as she walked by you, “Wait—” She stops in her tracks and turned on her heels to take a good look. By now, everyone Rosa worked with was watching. Amy was the last one.

“Who’s this, Roro?” Charles asked.

“Call me that again and I’ll burn your sourdough starter to a crisp.” Rosa threatened. You let a laugh slip- you simply couldn’t take her seriously. She wasn’t like this with you at all- this was an act.

“She looks like she could be your sister.” Terry noted.

“Nope.” Rosa answered, “Try again.” You and Rosa shared a glance. Truthfully, the answer could not have been more obvious if it weren’t for the close age gap. You were pretty much a spitting image of your Mother— thank goodness.

“No way- it can’t be.” Jake broke the silence. Amy analysed Rosa’s face then yours, noting that the two of you had your arms crossed the same, with the same expressions on your face. Even the way you were dressed- heavily influenced by Rosa’s style. A light bulb went off in her mind.

“Rosa, I cannot believe this- you have a teenage daughter and this is first time we’re meeting her?!”

Terry’s mouthful of yogurt felt like it got caught in his throat, Charles nearly spilled his coffee all over himself, Jake’s bag of gummies and jellybeans fell from his hand and hilariously scattered all over the floor. Hitchcock and Scully? As clueless as ever. Solely focused on their bags of chips. Oh, and Gina who immediately snapped a photo of you two side by side. There was pin drop silence in the bullpen up until Holt came out to check on his squad. “Why is it so quiet? This is extremely unlike your usual selves.” He remarked, then he quickly spotted an unfamiliar person— you standing by Rosa’s desk. Now, it got awkward.

“They’ve just met my daughter and they’re shocked.” Rosa informs him.

“I see.” He nodded emotionlessly, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

“Captain Holt. Likewise.” You gave him a polite smile.

“Everybody, get back to work.” He ordered. The buzz continues. “Will you guys wait until I’ve at least left the precinct to talk about me?” You sassed.

“How old are you?” Jake asked.

“17.”

“Damn. Respect, Rosa.” Jake’s eyes widened, “You were 18?!”

“Okay, that’s it. You guys already know too much.” Rosa decided, “No more questions. y/n, go home.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You joked.

“Stop it.” She said back, acting cracking a smile.

“Boy, I haven’t seen you this close to smiling since never.” Jake commented.

“I heard you had a date? Who’s the lucky guy?” Boyle asks.

“Charles, right?” You cleared your throat, “I’m a lesbian, so there was no guy.”

“Oh. I- I am so sorry.” He stutters.

“Why are you afraid of a 17-year old?” Rosa snorted.

“Why isn’t she afraid of you?” Charles retorted before he even thought it through.

“I am loving this.” Gina sighs.

“Why would she need to be? We’re practically best friends.” She shrugged. Now, they were even more curious about how Rosa was like outside of work. “Okay, you need to get home.”

“I’m going, I’m going. I know.” You sigh, throwing your hands up in mock defeat, “You’ll pick up my prescription?”

“I remember, y/n, yes.”

The squad says bye to you as you turned to leave. In retrospect, you could’ve easily passed some time at the nearby library and did some work but you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to meet her friends officially.

“Byeee, softie…junior.” Jake called out, causing you to laugh as you hit the elevator button.

[doumadono]

Hey, been followin' you for a minute now, but I gotta keep it low-key, you know? Shyness and all 🙃 Anyway, I'm about to hit you up with the silliest emergency but it would mean the world to me. So, here's the deal — I'm a full-blown adult, but storms freak me out, man 😖 The wind howlin', thunders crashin', and lightning flashin' — it all messes with my vibe. Can I get some headcanons or a drabble with Dabi comforting the reader (preferably female as I identify as one)? Yeah, I go by she/her pronouns. Thanks in advance 🙂

And big ups for keeping those emergency reqs open 24/7. You're doing a real solid by helping folks out, even with the small stuff like writing. Much love for that, seriously, Marcianna (I like your nickname btw 😍)

A storm - Dabi x Reader

A/N: much love right back atcha, dear Anonnie! Gotta keep the emergency hotline open for all those in need out there - I'm here to help, whether it's for big emergencies or just a little something to brighten someone's day. Your appreciation truly warms my heart. If you ever need anything or just want to chat, don't hesitate to reach out🌟

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

The night hung heavy with the ominous rumble of thunder and flashes of lightning. In the cramped quarters of the League of Villains' hideout, Dabi couldn't ignore the distant sobs that echoed through the wall. He recognized those sobs; they belonged to a girl, a fellow member of the League.

Concern etched across his features, Dabi pushed open the door to her rooms, the rusted hinges groaning in protest. There she was, curled up on her bed, a bundle of nerves. Her eyes were wide, tears streaming down her face as the storm outside waged its chaotic symphony.

Dabi hesitated for a moment before his ever-present apathetic facade softened, replaced by a genuine concern that few had seen. He leaned against the doorframe, his voice low but surprisingly gentle. "Hey, Y/N. What's eatin' at ya?"

She flinched at the sudden intrusion but looked up, tear-stained eyes meeting Dabi's piercing gaze. "I-I hate storms. Always have," she admitted, her voice shaky. "Just messes with my head, you know?"

Dabi's expression softened a fraction, an understanding glint in his eyes. He pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to her bed, sitting down beside her. "Storms can be a real pain in the ass," he muttered, his tone surprisingly empathetic. "But hey, it's okay, it's not like the storm will hurt ya."

She managed a weak smile, appreciating the unexpected comfort from her usually aloof comrade. Dabi, sensing her unease, draped his arm casually over her shoulders, offering a silent gesture of support. The distant thunder continued its relentless assault, but within the confines of their makeshift sanctuary, a sense of camaraderie began to bloom.

"Look," Dabi started, his gaze fixed on the flickering shadows dancing across the walls. "It sits here," he tapped your temple with his index finger. "It's nothing but an irrational fear. A little thunder ain't gonna hurt ya."

She chuckled softly, wiping away a lingering tear. "Never thought I'd see the day Dabi turns into a motivational speaker."

Dabi smirked, the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly. "Well, stranger things have happened, haven't they?"

As the storm outside raged on, Dabi continued to talk, his words a steady stream of distraction.

Eventually, the thunder began to wane, the storm retreating into the night. The girl's tense shoulders relaxed, and Dabi gave her a subtle nod. "See? Storm's over. You made it through," he remarked, his tone light but reassuring.

She sighed, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over her. "Thanks, Dabi. I appreciate it."

Dabi shrugged, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips. "No problem."

And in that quiet moment, as the last echoes of the storm faded away, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found an unexpected ally in the unlikeliest of places.

[wjehfshs]

Reader who is very sweet and kind, his vibe is " :D ", he is so happy that everyone likes him even valeria, secretly gets special treatment from everyone but doesnt realize it. Also goes along with anything, you just casual lift him up and take him away when he was having a conversation? Ok! Plans change at the last second? Sure, doesnt bother him. Bakes and crochets during his free time and gives the things he created to the people in base. Loved by everyone, everyone also loves him. (Baby of the group, and babied by the group)

Thank you for reading this, take your time, rest if you need to♡

Omg just :D reader

Hyper happy reader, a lot of COD MW/MW2 characters and COD Ghosts characters are in this don’t ask why, even Valeria likes reader, oblivious reader, fluff, platonic, male reader, readers babied and compared to a fairy at some point

On the field you where like any other soldier

But off the field you where the definition of confetti as a person

Everyone just felt this need to protect you

They knew you could take care of yourself but they couldn’t help it

Valeria and Alejandro would regularly argue over who got to pamper you that day

“Ah [name]! I was wondering if you wanted me to run you a bath?”

“Don’t listen to him he would do it right, it would be gross and cold. Let me do it for you!”

For the next 15 minutes they argued in Spanish over who got to run the bath for you

God even Graves loved you

You where the only one who was allowed to cuddle with Ghost and play with his hair

König would let you climb him (maybe or maybe not inspired by another one of my fics lmao)

The thing is you didn’t even realise how much everyone loved you

You knew they loved you, and you loved them but you never knew the extent of it

Normally people would just sit wherever they could during their meals but you had a saved seat

“Leave room for [names] seat”

“Is that seat taken?” “Yeah [name] is sitting there” “what? But he’s in the shooting range?” “[name]. Sits. There”

Keegan would let you use him for piggy back rides

If you wanted you could bother Price all day in his office and he would be more than happy to let you ramble on

Hesh would let you paint different patterns on his face each time he had to go out on a mission

Stars, hearts, stripes, dots, whatever he didn’t care if you pained it on he was wearing it

If someone was mean to you Roach would sign to them, chewing them out for being rude to you, his hands where going so fast you couldn’t even read them

You and Soap where a chaotic duo

Screaming, running around, laughing, and doing stupid shit

Once you where talking to König in a crowded situation, he was starting to get stressed out so he just picked you up, threw you over his shoulder, and walked off with you

You didn’t even stop talking, it was like you didn’t even notice you where now basically 7 ft in the air on a man’s shoulders

Gaz would send you a stupid amount of Tik Toks daily, you would always watch them and get excited

Once for Christmas you went out of your way to knit scarfs for everyone. Like quite literally EVERYONE. You explained you spent the past year on this project

Some of them started crying with how sweet you where

On multiple occasions you would just be in a chair knitting something random

You also crochet most of your own accessories and clothes

“Ah this is so pretty [name]!” Farah told you, feeling the fabric of your crocheted beanie “May I please have one? I’d love to match with you!” She asked

You happily agreed, ecstatic to start the new project

You skipped away to grab your materials happily

You also loved to bake things for people

When it was Soaps birthday you made a cake for him, decorated with sugar flowers and leaves

It was so cute

Everyone was hesitant to eat it because they didn’t want to ruin it

They opted for all taking like 50+ photos each

You where literally a fairy in their eyes

[random-person10]

Heartbreak High

The new one, not the old one.

This show has always managed to confuse me and I don't know if it's an Australian thing or a writer's thing. I'm pretty sure it's the former coz it happens every time I watch anything Australian.

But this season was even more confusing than the first. Like in the first season, it was chaotic to me how everyone ended up fucking almost everyone, I could not guess who was going to get together at fucking all. All it took is for these fuckers to make 4-second eye-contact and BAM sex, get a grip. Ig teenagers are actually like that and I'm just a loser. Anywho, this season, the only thing that confused me was Rowan's whole character arc.

Let me break this down:

He said that when he came to Hartley High, he was just ready to move on from his brother's death, or maybe he wanted to move on in Dubbo, I dunno I kind of didn't pay attention. But like, he started killing birds and terrorizing Amerie with them on the first fucking day of being there, because she didn't remember him?

This motherfucker went into the forest, while Ant was busy threatening to cut his dick off, killed a bird, and put it on her bag? Sorry but how fast does this man act? What a machine.

Then he dated her ex-boyfriend? For what reason? Was it strategic? I still haven't figured that one out yet. Like sure it'll make Amerie jealous but he seemed genuinely into him so I don't think that's it. Actually, thinking about it now, Malakai is hot and Rowan was all "forget Amerie" or whatever so that bit does make sense tbh. I cried when they broke up go away, imagine the person you're dating calls u by their ex's name? ugh sad

Then after breaking up with Malakai and getting his heart savagely broken, he just starts dating Amerie? At first, I assumed that was because he planned to hurt her emotions, but he literally spoke about her to 'Jett' like he was into her, so that confused me. I thought he hated her?

Like bro seemed to not have a plan. I know he's not mentally stable and all that but like what was going on in his mind? He's trying to ruin her life, but also likes her, but also thinks she murdered his brother.

And why did he tell Malakai to fuck off when he started dating Amerie? Like was that genuine possessiveness or was that part of the plan? (My little brain was like "awe he wants to protect Malakai from whatever he has planned at that dance so he's telling him to go away, cutee he still likes him" but I'm delulu so ignore that)

AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF

His delusions just vanished with Amerie saying: "he died because he loved you" and a clip of Jett not being a part of Rowan's hallucination anymore... like excuse me, I need a clip of this man going to a therapist and actually acknowledging his schizophrenia, not whatever this form of fucking 'closure' is.

It was so half-arsed, it made me mad.

Man, I genuinely liked the guy, but it seemed like they created his plot 4 episodes into the season. Nothing linked.

Still was very obsessed with the show tho. The sarcasm and the sibling vibes were very entertaining. STILL THE PLOT MAKES VERY LITTLE SENSE. But, again I'm very bad at paying attention so I might've got it all wrong.

Side note: the principal's dog (Joan of Arc) with her little fuchsia-coloured vest were the highlight of this show for me, isn't that kinda sad? There is a scene where the principal is talking to Cash, and Joan is facing the opposite direction and I laughed at that for like 30 minutes, tragic.

[kirric-the-fan]

Okay, I had a different idea for this precure oc originally, but Now I’ve gone the other way, and What If whole team of green precure?

Very VERY green precure.

Introducing:

Verdant Earth Precure:

Cure Crown (trees) (green & yellow)

Cure Rush (Lush) (Reeds, grasses) (green, dark blue & red-dy brown, but fluffy)

Cure Spring (flowers) (green, rainbow (flowers)

Cure Algae (bright green and blue. Bioluminescence)

Cure Rice (green and white. Snow like)

(Cure names have a secondary, athletic theme)

They are All green cures, with secondary colours.

^^ I am probably going to tweak this design a little, maybe merge with some of my Cure Memory stuff for Cure Crown. But the whole team has this sort of outfit vibe. Deeply green, and very verdant. Lots of flower and leaf details.

Their fairies:

Dewdrop (beaver)

Sprout (fawn)

Boo (panda)

Bark (dog/ ‘wolf’. More like puppy. And secretly sealion)

Beri (berry/bury) (squirrel)

Enemy: Harvest

The forest fairies are escaping to Earth, to avoid an enemy taking over their world: Harvest. Unfortunately, the fairies powers are causing havoc on Earth, making the trees and creatures grow wild and attack people! The Verdant Earth cures need to save and reassure the scared fairies of the Forest kingdom, and work to save their world.

The five fairies are all part of the royal court, and determined to regather the scattered forest fairies. They each generate a Forest tome, and seed notes: The tome is the Verdant Earth cures transformation item, and the seed notes are generated from each forest fairy they save. Each collected seed note expands their power, as well as unlocking their more knowledge of some flora and fauna, and revealing more of what happened to the forest kingdom, scrap by scrap.

Minori: Cure Crown. First meets Dewdrop when she walks outside to find the tree in their garden has magically grown in the space of a few minutes (she walks into it). She spots Dewdrop, gives chase thinking it’s a Tanuki, and inadvertently learns she can talk when Dewdrop insists she’s neither a Tanuki or a beaver after Minori manages to drive away the enemies harassing her. They exchange words, Dewdrop asks Minori if she’s seen any other fairies, then leaves when the answer is no. Minori gives chase, wanting more explanations. Dewdrop is very surprised Minori is able to catch up. Offers her help. Is rejected. Enemy appears, Minori steps in to protect more forest fairies (Boo, Bark, Beri, and Sprout) and connects with Dewdrop to become a precure, Cure Crown. “The protection of the forest: Cure Crown!”

Jin: Cure Rush. Has a habit of rushing into things, often to her detriment. Often ends up overworking herself, or letting others down, and is beginning to become disheartened because of it. As a precure she learns to work together as part of a team. Is athletic enough to keep herself out of trouble at the start of a fight, but often ends up in trouble because she rushed in. “The waving reeds: Cure Rush!”

Mahiru: Cure Spring. Mahiru is the more delicate and skittish one of the group, but she can empathise with the scared fairies more as a result. She loves flowers, and wants to see more flowers bloom over the town. “Brightness of the blooming flowers: Cure Spring!”

Hotaru: Cure Algae. Painter, in more of a loud, chaotic, ‘loves making a mess when painting’ kinda way. A lot of people don’t understand her, but she loves the less loves aspects of life, and colour. Goes pond-dipping a lot. She is the bioluminescent cure. “The secret of natures lights: Cure Algae!” She oftens champions the underdog, and the little known heroes of the natural world. Her favorite animals are frogs.

Kanako: Cure Rice. Seems like the quiet cure. She struggles to speak up, but wants to say how she likes to hang out with the others. Likes making food, and talking about cooking. Seems to eat a lot through nerves, but gives the others a surprise when she really pushes them in a race: she might do a lot of things by herself, but she’s secretly really competitive, and manages to stammer out to Jin how she’s going to overtake her next time. Jin is looking forward to it. “The nourishment of nature’s foods: Cure Rice!”

Whole Team:

- as a team, they are fast runners. They don't really notice it until they get to an all-stars meet and outpace the next nearest precure team. Cure March is one of the few cures that can keep up with them.

- They're not the strongest fighters, but do a lot of protecting. And trying to stay out of trouble's range.

- They're also the only cure team with useable camouflage in their outfits. They can literally almost stand in front of a bush and not be spotted.

- They each have a bushy cloak/hair/other outfit element that seems to consistently have green+flowers on it. When they start saving the forest kingdom fairies, they seem to disappear into these cloaks, sometimes emerging from their Forest tomes (visiting) The cures don't ask about the logistics. Later, the cloaks turn out to be able to help transport them to the forest kingdom, and seem to be related to their mascot fairies.

- Most of their attacks have plant-related names

- They need their respective fairy mascots to connect with their forest tomes to transform. The fairies don't have to stay with the cure or the tome after, just to get it started. They usually stick around to help or give power-ups anyway. They will also hide in the cloaks for safety.

- They would (and do) get on famously with the heartcatch crew, especially Tsubomi, and Coupe.

- Dewdrop can't fly, but the other four fairies can.

- Harvest turns out to be trying to take all the resources of the Forest Kingdom, trying to cut down its trees and modernise it because the forest fairies refuse to let them do any developments or building there. Where the forest fairies have been causing havoc on Earth by their presence, the cures have to come to terms with the balance of nature and progress: that you can't always exclude one for the other (but kicking the fairies out of their own kingdom just for development and resource stripping is a big no.)

[kisuminight]

With the DSMP Blade System AU, I'm more vibing than I am coming up with a coherent story. But if I did have to come up with a story that I wrote out, I'd probably end it on an emotional triumph instead of a one based in combat.

So the Egg gets beaten. In the process, c!Dream would find out that he is part of the shattered Aegis and that XD is looking to put his original Aegis Blade back together. He would also find out that c!Philza is an Aegis Blade.

So he'd turn over a copy of the code that he and c!Punz worked on, to make the Memory Patch something that goes out in a general Universal Patch. And Phil would mention that just one Aegis can't make changes to what is/will be in the Universal Patch (for security reasons) and that they'll need to contact another Aegis.

What Phil trying to say: "This is great, I'll look over it. We can't do it immediately but I'll reach out to my Goddess and we will see if we can get other gods and their Aegis on board."

What Dream hears: "This Plan is fucked unless you, personally, find another Aegis on this server."

And Dream doesn't know another Aegis. But he knows that he used to be one. And he knows from the Revival Book that Aegis!Dream was attempting to create the Universal Memory Patch himself. So, theoretically, if he lets DreamXD bring Aegis!Dream back, then their problems are solved.

Dream doesn't want to die. But he's picked up that he has several similarities with Aegis!Dream. It wouldn't be a real death, would it? No more a real death than any other Blade goes through, when they revert to their core crystal without the Memory Patch. One Blade to save every other Blade, and if he makes it a condition of giving himself over, Aegis!Dream would probably be much better at working out Phase 2 of The Plan than he and Punz ever could alone.

Normally Dream wouldn't bother to leave a note. But this is the last impact he is going to have and he can be assured that c!Techno will remember him. So he does. And Techno comes down the next day and finds a letter that isn't outright saying anything but basically reads like a suicide note and that's... a Problem.

So he rounds up the people he thinks can talk Dream out of this--the syndicate plus Punz and Sapnap, basically--and they go try and stop Dream. Who has almost a full day's head start. And there's only one place where DreamXD is absolutely going to show up--the End Portal. So now it's a manhunt, using their combined knowledge, plus Phil's ability to sense aether, plus Techno's passive to try and track him down.

In a sense, they fail. They almost catch him, but Dream is 15 minutes ahead of them when he activates the portal.

DreamXD is just chilling when Drista brings Dream to him. Dream offers him his whole goal. To let DreamXD take his core crystal, to fuse it with the other pieces he's collected to resurrect his Aegis Blade.

But DreamXD isn't sure that he wants that anymore. He's been speaking with c!George, making friends with George, bonding over how it felt to have a Blade that you loved and then lost. George, who was dreaming at that very moment, astral projecting himself into the End, this time, instead of DreamXD going to him. George who has watched this entire conversation, even though Dream can't see him, and will lose his Blade, again, if DreamXD regains his.

Drista is watching too. She's been acting as his Blade for over 100 years at this point. Drista, who brought Dream to DreamXD without saying a word, serious and still like she never is. Drista, with whom the emotional bleed of the Resonance is tomb-silent and resigned.

"No." DreamXD decides.

At this point, the manhunt team come crashing into the End, all "Dream you idiot, you're not allowed to sacrifice yourself again!" and "Alright XD, you wanna do this? Then we're gonna fight!" And it turns into a very chaotic mess as Niki and Ranboo attempt to retrieve Dream out of the line of fire, Techno, Sapnap, and Punz go all in on the fight-XD bit, and Phil sidles over to Drista to head that bit off.

Final resolution would be that they all sit down and get the situation explained. Phil mentions that he forwarded the code to the Blood God's Aegis, and she is willing to help. Dream gets cornered with the fact that people love him and care about him and they're a little mad about past lies but that's not enough to make them leave. DreamXD gets a chance to confront what he lost and start the process of healing, finally. He teleports them all home, to the Antarctic Anarchist Compound, and then wakes George up and teleports him and Purpled to the group.

And like, there's still stuff that they all need to talk about. Reconciliations need to occur. Relationships that need to be sorted out. George and Dream absolutely need to have a shouting match about what they mean to each other and not be allowed to run away from it until they've both said everything and they've both said the truth. Punz is also going to make them crack open the ugly truths of how Dream made Sapnap feel, but also how Sapnap made Dream feel.

Dream and Punz need to get sat down to explain what all they've been doing/working on. If you think that DTeam + Syndicate won't shut down the Plan Phase 2, you're wrong.

When c!Bad and c!Skeppy finish recovering from the Egg, I think Dream and Punz will work with them, Techno, and Philza, to see if they can make it so that Blades can have an independent existence/be Awake without their Drivers (like in YWKON's finale), and still have a Resonance if they want one.

Life keeps going, with it's ups and downs. But this would be a sweet, happy note to end on.

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Danger Force Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 1

Episode 5: Mime Games (SMUT)

Season 1 Masterlist

Click for vibes

bonjour ma peeps. je suis ruth und je ne parle le french. spanish is more my bag. mi bag. enjoy ray as he slowly descends into madness because he wants a baby and his wife sys no. sucks to be him :)

~ Swellview Academy for the Gifted~

"Come on! Let's go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go!" Ray bellowed as he impatiently hovered by SWAG's front door. 

Glancing at his gadget-filled watch, he breathed a frustrated sigh, wondering what was taking his protégés so long to pack. They were going on a trip, not for fun, but for a mission - three days max, so he didn't know what the hold-up was. After all, it was only Paris - he didn't see the big deal. 

For some, it was a big deal, the getaway of a lifetime to the city of love, famed for its cafés, architecture, and tourist attractions. (y/n) was one of them, having been unable to sit still all week ever since they received confirmation that Captain Man and Co were needed overseas. Her childhood dream was to take her lover and experience all those cheesy, cliche things she saw in her rom-coms. 

It was enough to make her bounce excitedly on the spot, hugging Ray's beefy arm close to her chest, where her heart thundered from the adrenaline. Their bags were packed: a manly, dark camo sports bag for him and an overly girly, glitzy purple suitcase for her, and of course, her husband insisted on carrying both. His sweet girl packed enough for three weeks, let alone three days, but he indulged her. 

After all, only a genuinely remarkable lover would whisk their wife away to the most romantic city on Earth, even if it involved a little crimefighting. 

Well, that is if the children didn't fuck things over for him. 

"We're s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'going!" Mika replied sharply, snapping her hard plastic case shut and haphazardly zipping it up. Unlike some, she and her friends had only learned about the little detour half an hour ago; trust Ray to tell them they were going halfway around the world when no one had anything decent to wear, toiletries, or parental consent. 

"Our Goober Lux is three minutes away, and I'm not going to lose my five-star rating for any of you!" The man growled, anxiously glancing at his phone to see the taxi approaching. He wanted to be the perfect customer, ready and waiting by the door with his sweet girl's hand in his, looking ever so handsome. 

His hair was so floppy, that jacket was deliciously tight, and the gleaming, golden band on his left hand made the heroine swoon as she squished his bicep more. Maybe it was the thrill, the whiff of adventure, or maybe Paris was just that enticing, but she was ridiculously giddy, too happy to scold the children about dragging their feet. 

"You could help us...(y/n/n)?" 

"Well, I--"

"She's with me, and I'm helping by yelling..." Ray told Mika sharply when she looked at the starry-eyed woman for help, refusing to let his wife go merely because they weren't prepared. He'd already told her twice, but she looked gorgeous in that pretty little dress--so cute he could burst, but he concentrated on yelling instead. The sooner they moved, the sooner he could show her the fancy-schmancy suite he'd booked at the hotel. 

"Let's go! Let's go!"

"Relax, boss. I'm good to go," Miles called out smoothly, looking like the picture of relaxation as he reclined in his chair, feet propped up on his desk with a magazine in hand. Everything around him was chaotic, yet the boy didn't look phased, flicking through the pages while his sister ran around like a mad bull. 

"Uh, Miles. We're going to Paris. Aren't you gonna pack anything?" (y/n) asked, wandering over to the kid's side with her doofus in tow. Maybe it was just her - she was a stickler when it came to luggage - but it was a wonder how calm and collected he was, barely sparing them a glance as he turned another page. 

"Whatever I need, the universe will provide," he replied with his usual zen. He was so confident in the mystic power that he almost looked smug. For some reason, coincidences fell around him like dominoes, always ensuring his life ran smoothly with no bumps or issues in the road. 

But, of course, there were no such things as coincidences - cue Mika walking into the room from the closet, dragging double her weight in suitcases while Miles sat idly by. She always did this, looking out for her brother, even when her care bordered on neglect; after all, he was old enough to look after himself. 

"Okay, Miles. I packed all your stuff. Again." 

"Told 'ya!" The boy smirked at his teachers before licking his forefinger and thumb to grasp another page, looking arrogant since all the hard work was done for him. 

"Mika, honey..." (y/n) sighed, swallowing the urge to give the conceited kid an earful about respect and good manners. Instead, she turned to the sweating, out-of-breath girl, who smiled sweetly after placing the heavy bags down for a breather. It was like she didn't see anything wrong with her kindness; she was too innocent and thoughtful to see how Miles took advantage of her generosity. But she did - (y/n) knew the doormat life all too well. 

"Why do you do this for him?"

"The only way he'll learn is if I do it over and over again for him until he learns," Mika explained, and for one so bright, she just sounded dumb. Uttterly stupid. Painfully moronic. And it practically had the woman slapping her forehead in exasperation. 

"Mika. I have raised four other children and a doofus. Trust me. Sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind. You are not his maid, nor his mother, so Miles," (y/n) turned and glared at the boy as she growled out his name, "should get off his butt and pack his own suitcase."

"You're scary when you're mothering..." the girl trailed off, staring at her friend in awe and mild reluctance once her furious tirade finished. It even left her brother looking a little sheepish, shrinking into his chair as Ray approached her, looping his arms around her waist to pull her back to his chest. 

He, too, was in awe of his wife, finding it ridiculously hot when she took charge and laid down the law with her confidence and authority. He nuzzled her hair and neck as the girl nodded shyly, promising to be more assertive next time. 

"I've had a lot of practice. This doofus used to be and still is a handful," (y/n) joked, reaching a hand up to stroke Ray's hair as he smooched her jawline loudly, making her shriek. It was nauseatingly cute, causing Miles to loudly clear his throat as the hero stroked the glittering rings on her finger, wildly in love with his darling girl, to notice the children swanning around the room. 

"You still married me, though, Mrs Manchester..."

"Of course, Mr Manchester."

"Get a room, you guys..." the boy said in a sing-song voice, making the woman giggle when her husband sighed and grumbled. He longed for their honeymoon days when he could openly kiss and love her without a pesky child whining about decency and celibacy. 

But Miles was right; they had places to go and people to meet, and any kiss would be ten times sweeter in France. So, the man pecked her cheek and released his wife, clearing his throat before heading back to the door, wondering where that Goober was. At least one kid seemed abnormally focused on his task...

"Bose! Bring the stuff outside."

"You got it, boss. Remember, I am Boooooose..." the long-haired boy replied nasally - almost like he had a cold - as he bent over and fiddled with the zipper on his luggage. 

It was strange; he'd been hunched over the damn thing for at least fifteen minutes, ignoring anyone and everything around him, even as his friends ran around doing a million tasks at once. He'd never concentrated so hard in the few months he'd been at the fake school, and it was rare for him not to wander around with that dimpled smile like nothing was wrong in the world. 

Instead, he did not show his face, looking through thick hair strands with his hood tightly pulled over his head. Very odd, and that voice... It was so familiar, but not like Bose's, prompting Ray and (y/n) to whip around with deep frowns. He knew that adenoidal tone...

'Wait a minute..." Ray growled, sniffing the air like a bloodhound as he stomped to the quiet boy, sensing something was wrong. It was those superhero instincts... "I knew I smelled science in here!"

Everyone gasped as the man yanked the hood from Bose's head, only to find an imposter was among them. 

Turning around with a terrified face after being discovered, the team were shocked to see Schwoz staring back at them in a very clever disguise. If he had played his cards a little better, no one would've noticed the deception since his costume was so good, complete with a very Bosey wig, his signature blue hoodie, skinny jeans, and trainers.

The resemblance was uncanny but not good enough. 

"Can you smell science?" (y/n) pondered, knowing her doofus hated anyone behaving smarter than him but smelling it? That was a little crazy, even for him. 

"Schwoz, why are you dressed like that?" She moved on, standing beside Ray as she looked the small man up and down, wondering what he was thinking. 

"'Cause I want to go to Paris! It's the city of love--and I want to fall in love!" Ah, a stowaway. Schwoz gazed at his friends with misty, wonder-filled eyes, looking every bit the hopeless romantic that (y/n) often saw in her sappy movies. Hearing him talk about feelings and emotions was a little out of character. Still, it warmed her heart as she smiled warmly - she was a sucker for romance, no matter who it involved. 

"Awwww..."

"That's strangely adorable."

"The heart seeks what it needs!" She cooed with the kids, clutching her chest as her heartstrings sang. They all thought it was adorable, mirroring the genius's dopey, hopeful smile as he imagined meeting a tall, beautiful bombshell along the Seine. Ray, however, wasn't so smitten, scoffing loudly as he sneered at his handyman. 

"First of all, we're not going to Paris to fall in love," he said firmly, pointing a stern finger in Schwoz's face. He fell in love in Swellview, not halfway around the world, so anyone else's feelings didn't matter. 

"We're going to Paris because the French Captain Man is on strike. Second of all, everybody knows you're going to die alone!"

"Raymond! How could you be so mean?!" (y/n) scolded her doofus as the poor guy gasped loudly, undoubtedly wounded by his boss' harsh words. Ray flinched under her sharp gaze, but she didn't waver, wondering if he'd be so cruel if someone said the same to him; after all, their relationship seemed hopeless initially.

"...Monsieur Man is on strike?" Schwoz asked incredulously, clueless about how the woman's face fell when he brushed over the apparent insult. Maybe it secretly hurt him, but he didn't show it, staring up at Ray, who smooched her cheek as an apology - although she didn't hear him apologise to the little guy. 

"Yes!" Instead, he turned on the smartboard, where he had the front page of France's online leading newspaper. All anyone could gossip about was how the city's leading superhero refused to work and Monsieur Man was very popular. 

In some ways, he looked very similar to Ray, or at least (y/n) could see the similarities. He was stereotypically handsome with solid and masculine features, thick biceps, and shoulder-length, slicked-back blond hair. His uniform was a little strange, designed like Ray's, with a long-sleeved white undershirt covered by a zip-up tunic in the French flag's colours. 

"I am Monsieur Man!"

He spoke with a thick, French accent, flashing his crazy eyes at the camera as he sipped from an espresso cup. Maybe in an alternate universe, she would've dated him. Still, her better instincts said he wasn't the same as her doofus - a little too eccentric and cheesy for her liking. 

"They need us to protect France's greatest national treasures until he agrees to go back to work."

"Yeah, how long is that going to take?" Miles asked, praying that the Parisian hero was reasonable and easy to handle. He could lie to his parents a bit - a weekend field trip - but anything longer and they'd get suspicious. Also, who wanted to spend more than a few days in the city of love with Mr and Mrs Manchester?

"Not sure. We'll have to ask when we get there," (y/n) replied, leaning up on her tippy-toes to peck Ray's lips. She could barely wait, sharing a bright smile with him as they imagined everything they'd see and do together, squeezing hands without realising everyone was watching. Mika thought it was adorable, and Schwoz could only hope for a love like theirs. 

"I don't speak French..." the boy added, wondering what they'd do once they landed. Ray couldn't work with others, so a translator had to be out of the question. Maybe just some very well-timed hand gestures?

"That's okay. Je parle un peu français. Je l'ai étudié au lycée, donc on devrait survivre," the heroine replied smoothly, her cheeks slightly warm as the children quirked their eyebrows at her - even Miles was mildly impressed, which was no mean feat. 

Ray curled his arms around her waist, pulling his beloved wife to his rumbling chest, practically purring as the beautifully romantic words wrapped around her tongue before soothing his ears. She had to be trying to seduce him, right? Looking up at him through those lashes, smiling cutely, kissing his jaw...he had to be the luckiest man in the world.

"That's so hot, darlin'..." he murmured in her ear, hugging her closely as Schwoz sighed dejectedly, longing for love like theirs. They giggled and whispered to each other, cheeks superheating when Ray asked if she could kiss like the French, too, but he pulled away when the kids coughed awkwardly. Right...he forgot they were there. 

"Anyway, you don't have to learn French--French is just English but with very ridiculous accents!" 

"That's very ridiculously wrong," Mika mumbled, stunned when her so-called teacher put on the worst impression of a Frenchman she'd ever seen. His voice was thick and heavily accented, finished with a little Frenchy laugh, but he couldn't be further from the truth. 

"Such a doofus, mon amour..." (y/n) sighed, shaking her head, but she leaned up to kiss him anyway. Love was in the air, making them extra affectionate and cuddly as they buzzed with anticipation for their romantic break, even if it was technically for work. 

The hero grinned against her lips until an alarm sounded, painting the walls red momentarily before Chapa and Bose dropped from the ceiling in their chairs. They'd been grabbing some last-minute essentials from upstairs - weapons, gadgets, underwear - bringing everything down in large, heavy-duty, carry-on bags. They were late, making Ray frown as he glanced at his phone again - where was that Goober?

"Sorry, I'm late! I couldn't find my hoodie," Bose said as he placed the bag on his desk, only to look across at Schwoz and see him wearing his looted sweater. No wonder he couldn't find it; it was part of the genius' cunning disguise. 

"Hey, I have that same hoodie! And that same hair!"

"You pack all out travelin' weapons?" Ray asked Chapa after wandering over to her side, looking too damn handsome in that jacket. And seeing him in his tight jeans and the black muscle shirt underneath? Nothing made (y/n) drop to her knees quicker...

"Yeah," Chapa confirmed, having run around the Man's Nest like a madwoman when the hero snapped his fingers and demanded she find everything they'd need to protect themselves in a foreign country. And obviously, he couldn't do it, monitoring the taxi and smooching his beloved wife. Critical stuff. 

"You got Lil' Sizzler?" He asked, his lips twitching upward when the girl nodded diligently for every weapon he listed. "The Smoke Wagon? The Mean Wheel?"

"Trick question. There is no weapon called The Mean Wheel..."

"Okay, Chapa..." Ray grinned, thoroughly impressed by her attention to detail and in-depth knowledge. She didn't miss a beat, knowing everything she'd left in the pack, which, strangely enough, was identical to the one Bose had packed - the one he rummaged through as they chatted. Unzipping the gym bag, he pulled out a weird-looking device, like a child's windmill, with half a dozen stickers of his grumpy face stuck to each point as it spun around. 

"I got a Mean Wheel right here. You show it to the bad guy, and when he all the mean faces on it, he's like, put that away! It's so mean!" Oh, sweet boy. He meant well, but God, he was simple. 

"Oh, Bosey..." (y/n) shook her head with a sigh as Ray flashed the kid a wobbly smile, swapping a look with his sweet girl. 

"Lemme holla at you for a second," Miles murmured to his fellow sidekick, placing a warm, kind hand on Bose's shoulder as he pulled him aside for a quick chat, leaving the happy couple with Chapa. Someone needed to tell him why that windmill thing wasn't appropriate, and the boys were particularly close, even if Miles' patience only stretched so far. 

"So, I was thinking...when we're in Paris, we have to kiss on top of the Eiffel Tower!" (y/n) mentioned to her doofus as the boys talked a few paces away. She turned in his arms, grinning at him as Ray hummed and kissed her forehead, knowing he'd do anything she asked. He didn't mind what they did, willing to show her the entire city if she wanted, but he couldn't help but tease her a little. 

"Can't we kiss anywhere else?" He smirked, stroking her curves as Chapa gagged at his side. God, every minute of every damn day...they couldn't keep their hands to themselves. 

"Well, duh, you big doof! But it's a tradition! All couples kiss on top of the Eiffel Tower."

"Well, I can arrange that..." the man growled, leaning down to kiss his wife as she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck and humming appreciatively. 

As they smooched, utterly entranced by the nerves, excitement, and love in the air, the girl by their side groaned and shook her head. She always wore a frown, but this was something else - deep, stern, and severe, etched into her baby-like features the longer they locked lips. 

"No fair! So, you guys get to go off doing all your kissy-kissy stuff while we do all the work!" She complained, forcing the couple to break apart as Ray scowled, ignoring how Bose skipped upstairs to look for something. Honestly, he could never love her properly with these little shits around...

"Hey! Can't a man take his incredibly hot wife on a romantic trip?" He asked, squeezing (y/n) 's hips as she rolled her eyes and lovingly kissed his cheek, running her wedding rings down his freshly shaven face. Before she could coo about how unbelievably handsome he was or Chapa could argue otherwise, Mika piped up, looking perturbed. 

"Hey, Ray?" She called out, standing and looking through the window while everyone nattered. She'd watched a large, mini-van-type vehicle pulled up outside the school, loitering by the curb as the driver glowered at the front door. He didn't look happy - impatient like every taxi driver - making her gulp as she turned toward the hero. 

"There's a Goober LUX SUV outside."

"Oh, my stars! MY stars!" The man gasped, yanking his PearPhone from his pocket and baulking when he noticed the app said his car was here - and his rating was going down. He must've missed the notification, too distracted by his wife's sweet lips or the dumb kid's stupidity. 

"What, doofus?" (y/n) quirked an eyebrow, quickly following her lover as he dashed around the room in panic. 

"I missed the alert, darlin'! Now, my five-star rating is going down! C'mon, C'mon, C'mon, C'mon! S'go, S'go, S'go!" He urged them all, clapping his hands as everyone jumped into action. 

The kids grabbed a bag, swiftly wheeling the suitcases toward the door, including Bose, who lowered his face to the floor. He hurried toward the door without saying a word, frantic into the Goober without glancing at his friends, especially the happy couple. (y/n) grabbed her case, too, nudging Ray's until he raced over to take both, not wanting to see her lift a finger. 

"Chapa!" 

"What?--" Ray tossed a heavy bag toward the girl before shoving a suitcase toward her knees like a bowling ball. The force nearly toppled her over, but he didn't care, flashing his beloved wife a brilliant smile before holding his hand out for her to take. He practically dragged her to the car, but (y/n) didn't mind, tottering along with a giddy giggle. 

This was the beginning of her romantic break, and no one would ruin it. 

Everyone was so eager and rushed that no one noticed how Bose expertly programmed the Man's Nest security programme, which involved inputting a code far beyond his technical capabilities. The kid could barely count to ten, yet he punched in the string of numbers without issue, activating dozens of skin-searing lasers that crisscrossed every room should any burglar dare to break in. 

With that, he scuttled out of the door with his case, closing and bolting the door behind him, dashing toward the car with a mischievous grin. No one would ever know...the genuine Bose would be safe and snug in the Nest, and Schwoz would find the woman of his dreams. 

*bonjour mis amis. je have le smutti smut - oui-oui. if les enfants amongst us could shut their eyes for the next 5k, that would be lovely, and everyone avert your screens from your mothers.

(Raymond secretly wants a baby zut alors!)

SKIP IF YOU DON'T FANCY IT! ONWARDS!*

~

"Holy shit, doofus. This place is insane..."

"Anything for my best girl..." The hero grinned at his wife as she marvelled at their hotel room. She chucked her jacket over a regal chair draped in gold silk with a polished mahogany frame, offering both opulence and comfort. Its gracefully curved legs and delicate embellishments made it a statement piece of luxury. Yet, it was the bed she focused on. 

In the grandeur of the bedroom, the luxurious mattress commanded attention with soft sheets and plush, tufted velvet cushions. Crafted from polished mahogany, too, the bedframe boasted ornate carvings, while a canopy of sheer curtains added a romantic touch to the opulent retreat, inviting anyone who entered to indulge in a haven of rest and relaxation. She fell backwards onto it, testing the plushness and sighing, knowing this was the epitome of comfort as her husband laughed. 

Paris was a bit of her. The culture was clever, all elegance and the finer things in life as the city lights twinkled in the darkness. They'd landed quite late - past nine - and headed straight for the hotel, which was far too expensive and fancy for four tweens, but Ray paid for double twin rooms. He had to if he wanted to wine and dine his sweet girl, booking them into an executive suite facing the Champs de Mars. 

It was one of the best rooms available--anything to see her smile. Everything had a lovely, warm glow from the furniture's pastel hues. The wallpaper was French - thick, glittery, and doubtlessly expensive with its gold, elaborate design. The carpet was plush, creamy, and woollen, caressing her feet as she stood up and padded across the room, dodging the seventeenth-century sideboards and coffee table. 

"Oh, Raymond..." (y/n) breathed as she pulled one of the chintz drapes back from the window and peered at the outside world. 

An iconic structure illuminated the city skyline with a golden glow, its intricate lattice of lights shimmering against the dark canvas of the night sky. The city below was a tapestry of twinkling lights. The Eiffel Tower stood as a timeless sentinel as the couple gazed out, casting a romantic spell over the heroine. 

She didn't want to imagine how much he'd paid for the view, glancing back over her shoulder as Ray pressed his front to her back, enjoying it with her. His hands held her hips as he rested his chin on her shoulder, silently smirking to himself for a job well done at her awed expression. He took it as a sign he'd chosen well, feeling his heart sing when she took in every aspect, not wanting to lose a moment. 

"Do you like it?" He whispered, kissing her neck as she nodded slowly, barely aware of reality as the lights twinkled on The Eiffel Tower. It was breathtakingly beautiful, although he was looking at someone else. 

"Of course, doof! I've always dreamed of seeing The Eiffel Tower..." (y/n) sighed dreamily, leaning her forehead on the cool glass as her hand laid over the one on her hip. "Thank you..."

"I promised I'd make all your dreams come true when I married you, pretty girl."

"You didn't have to book us into the fanciest hotel in town, though..." She giggled, squirming at the ticklish sensation of his lips on her skin, but she couldn't be happier. His wedding band felt hot, hard, and heavy on her waist, slightly digging into her as he kept rubbing around his favourite spots...hips, tummy, and ass, up her ribcage until he nearly brushed under her breasts. 

"Bose was so shocked he couldn't say a word, poor kid..."

"Go big or go home, darlin'. And besides, I have a dream too..." Ray mumbled, losing himself in his wife's soft body and floral-scented hair.

The mention of that kid barely passed his mind, forgetting how uncharacteristically quiet and shy the boy was when they checked in. He barely said goodnight, not that the hero cared. He couldn't drag his wife into their bedroom quick enough, eager to have her all to himself in the lap of luxury because they didn't get to do this very often. Not with those little demons knocking on the door every day. 

"Really?" (y/n) asked quietly, feeling a new heat pulsing through her veins from his wandering fingertips. It didn't help how he'd stripped off his red jacket, revealing the deliciously tight black muscle shirt underneath. He looked so fucking hot, standing there in all black with his biceps bulging every time he moved his arms. 

Every inch of him was pressed against her, hands glued to her waist, and there was nowhere to go but the cityscape before her. 

"Oh, yeah..." he replied, lightly nibbling a spot just below her ear before bringing his lips back up, whispering in a sultry, throaty voice. 

"I've always wanted to say I fucked my wife in Paris."

"Raymond!" She gasped, half-scandalised, half-pulsating with heat. She sounded shocked, but it was a little late for that at this point. She was used to his antics, familiar with how he said it how it was, revelling in his blatant and unapologetic love and lust for her. So used to it, in fact, that the brief feeling - which could've been shock - passed all too quickly, painting a coquettish grin on her face in its wake. 

She turned her head to glance at him over her shoulder, giggling when his nose nuzzled into her cheek, mirroring her heated expression. His lips brushed her skin, holding her waist a little tighter as he pulled her ass back into his body. He was obvious and unashamed in every way, rolling his pelvis into her, nipping her jaw a little. 

"What? Don't you want me to ravish you, sweet girl? This is the City of Love, after all," Ray teased, a rumble in his voice when she rocked her hips with his, wiggling her butt as she pushed against the glass. A little minx in his mitts, just as unabashed as he was as she tilted her chin up, encouraging the marks he sucked into her skin. 

There wasn't a hint of rejection. Not even a suggestion that she didn't want him as much as he wanted her. If anything, she slumped against the pane more, arching her spine while his fingers danced with the button on her jeans. But indeed, giving in from the off wasn't as fun. 

"The kids are next door..." A pathetic excuse - murmured through lips curled upwards, making the man snarl. 

Frankly, he didn't give a shit. He had the girl of his dreams in his embrace, lovingly trapped with nowhere to go--his wife, hot, ready, aching to take his cock. He wouldn't stop for anyone, and certainly, not four little Satan-spawns, who made it their mission in life to steal him away in the morning, interrupting every clinch with their problems, groaning at every stolen kiss. 

It was time to test if his money was well-spent, to see if this hotel really was le triomphe de Paris--if anyone could push the soundproofing to its limits, it was them. 

"They won't hear a thing," he replied curtly, running his middle finger around the jean button before expertly popping it open with his forefinger and thumb. His sweet, precious girl didn't struggle, whining as another hand snuck around her body to grasp and fondle her tit, stealing that argument from her mind as she bucked into his touch. 

"W-we only just got here..." (y/n) gasped as he squeezed whatever he could grab, dipping into her pants only to stop when she went and ruined it. She loved playing games, and Ray loved a challenge. 

"No time like the present," he shot back instantly, wasting no time in moving past her panties and into her slick, circling her clit as he gathered her wetness on his fingers. 

Humming in the back of his throat, he approved of how her body did all the talking, juddering when the heel of his palm ground against her sensitive flesh. Soft moans fell from her mouth as he hunched over her body, playing it to a tune only he knew when he found her nipple through her shirt and bralette. That pulled a sharper whine from her, and when he bit the side of her neck...the fight left her. 

No more teasing. Just a sweet girl and her doofus in the most romantic city on Earth, in a suite designed to give the ultimate satisfaction. 

"Take me to the bed, then, doofus..." the heroine begged, nails scraping down the window as he unhurriedly toyed with her. 

"No..." Ray replied lowly, smirking evilly since he was enjoying the game she started. She - the girl of his dreams - was putty in his embrace, keening at the slightest touch until she dripped for him, soiling the loose jeans barely clinging to her hips. They shimmied down her body, making them both desperate to rip them off and get on with it, but he had a different idea. When in Paris...

"First, you'll take me right here, right now. Let the whole city see how well you take me." 

His mouth was hot against her ear, whispering harshly as she nodded without thought, becoming drunk and pliant on his throaty tone and thick fingers - the way they cupped between her legs to tease at her entrance.

Usually, she'd never be so daring, rationality telling her that anyone - one of the hundreds of tourists exploring the city's nightlife - could look up and see them in a lust-fuelled tangle. Then, the nerves kicked in, whispering about how they'd be the next internet sensation, how the hotel would kick them out, how the world would know what they did. Usually.

To her surprise, (y/n) found herself equally hungry, clammy palms leaving the window and their prints behind to roughly shove her jeans down her hip until they gathered at her knees. Then, it was just a matter of shimmying them down her calves and stepping out of them, kicking them to the side without a spare thought once her lower half was bare and accessible for her doofus. 

"Such a needy girl..." he chuckled, although he didn't waste the opportunity. With more space to manoeuvre, his fingers slipped through her slit with ease, smearing her wetness around her clit until she sobbed, nodding weakly.

"Such a good girl for me, though..." 

A hand curled around her throat, pulling her forehead away from the cool glass until she tilted the base of her skull on his shoulder. Her torso was a canvas for him to roam, tweaking her breasts while he twisted his neck to kiss her, tongue messily running across her lips to tangle with hers. 

"Want my cock, pretty girl?" He asked breathlessly after they pulled apart, and (y/n) didn't miss the angelic note in his tone. She could never understand how he could say such vulgar things so nonchalantly. Still, either way, she loved it, gasping, begging, vigorously jerking her head in a reverent yes. 

God, yes, she wanted it. Wanted his cock. The only thing that could soothe the ache in her pussy, five stories up, watching over the city of Paris with him all over her like a rash. It was daring, it was dangerous, it was downright obscene, but yes, she wanted it. 

"Your words, darlin'. Say it," Ray cooed, hissing through his teeth when his beloved wife turned to jelly in his arms, merely presenting her ass against the hardened length trapped in those black skinny jeans. 

But that was boring--too easy to just fuck her now without making her ravenous. Hearing her desire was hot - hotter than self-gratification could ever be. 

"I want it..." (y/n) mumbled quietly, her lips feeling fuzzy and clumsy like she'd spent the afternoon knocking back shot after shot of hard liquor. She'd say anything he wanted to hear if it meant he'd be deep inside her, screwing the lust and longing out, trusting her beloved idiot to take care of everything she couldn't think about. 

"Louder. Do you want to be fucked or not?" The hero growled, hands still against her clit and tit when her pitiful attempt barely made it to his ears. Where was the woman who commanded his home like a queen? The one who often straddled his hips and rode him with authority and conviction?

"Yes!" She cried a sudden desperation fuelling her sharp shout when the dear pleasure he gave her was ripped away. Her hips rolled into his fingertips, chasing the hazy delight. Yet he retreated before she could, bringing them to his lips instead so he could suck the honey off them - down to the goddamn knuckle. 

"Fuck, please, doofus...fuck me. Give me your cock."

"Right now? Right here? Wanna give all those people a show?" Ray grinned, licking at the delicious sweetness on his lips, eager to have another taste if she'd let him. But first, he needed to be inside her, straining against his jeans when she tucked her nose under his jaw and whimpered. 

"Fuck me hard, Captain. Give it to me."

"That's my girl." He moved in an instant, shoving her back against the window with an unusual but not unwelcome roughness so she was braced against the glass again. His foot kicked her ankles apart, spreading her legs a little further, opening his favourite view in the world while he hurried to free himself. God, he never tired of eyeing her so ready, wet, and frantic for him. 

Arching her back, (y/n) waited for what she craved, smiling tipsily when she heard the gentle, unmistakable jingle of his belt buckle as Ray shoved his pants and underwear down his thighs - just enough to free himself. He took his rigid length into his hand, pumping the achingly hard flesh with a groan as he guided the tip to her blazing cunt, sliding it through her folds.

A moan left her lips at the sensation, mewling when he rubbed himself against her clit to cover himself in slick. 

He couldn't help but grunt at the relief of fisting his cock, staring at her pretty cunt as it fluttered and clenched around nothing in anticipation. It was tempting to keep going, fuck himself to the biggest walking turn-on he'd ever seen. Still, Ray stopped himself, curling his forefinger and thumb around the base of his cock to will himself to calm down. 

"Fuckin' take it..." he growled lowly as he guided himself down to her entrance and pushed in, hissing when he felt that all-too-familiar tightness engulf his cock. 

Like always, there was some slight resistance, willing to force him back out until he surged forward, parting her walls as (y/n) wailed. The thickness was heavenly, making her jaw go slack and eyes flutter shut when his groin pressed against her ass, fully sheathed inside his sweet girl. She clenched around him, now sucking him in, squeezing him tightly like nothing he'd ever felt before, and it felt like coming home.

"Oh, pretty girl, you feel so good."

"Don't make me wait, Ray..." (y/n) whimpered, planting her feet a little further apart to give him more room, enticing him to start moving. Slick was dripping down her thighs at this point, allowing her lover to inch a little deeper, but he wasn't particularly fussed. 

He held her hips flush against his whilst he ran kisses from the edge of her shoulder to her neck, panting harshly and trying to reign in his desire - she'd never believe his lack of control when he had his wife in his arms.

"Keep those pretty eyes on the city. Leave me to my husbandly duties," Ray muttered against her throat with a smirk, gently sucking and nipping on her skin as he began to pull and push into her. 

They groaned together at the friction, clawing hands leaving greasy streaks down the window pane as his cock dragged against her walls, providing sweet relief. Starting off slow, the man hummed lowly in his throat as he steadily coated himself in her, rubbing her hips as he tried not to get too excited. He felt so deep inside her from this angle, marvelling at the sight of her bare flesh and the moans she made.

"Fuck--harder--" She pleaded whinily, wiggling her hips to try and force herself back onto him, taking matters into her own hands. The slow, gentle, shallow thrusts were pathetic and maddening, barely enough to satisfy the ache deep within her.

She needed the rough, brutal pace only he could give her, but Ray stopped her movements, holding her waist, when his mouth suddenly appeared next to her ear, hot and harsh.

"I said, look outside. Don't waste this view," he spat, a large hand shooting up to cup his chin and force her to turn to Paris again - like she could concentrate on anything but him. "And I'll look at this one."

With his sweet girl staring blankly at the warm, twinkling lights and traffic-heavy roads, the hero pawed at her body and took a step back to admire her. He'd swear on the book that he'd never seen anything so beautiful in all his born days, trailing his gaze from her naked back and shoulders to the reflection of her breasts in the glass to her hips and the delicious crease between her thighs.

God, he could stare at it all day, licking his lips as he studied every minute detail of how stuffed her cunt looked with his cock crammed inside. She took him so well, stretched and drenched around him, piecing a sinful picture together in his head, which he tucked away for a rainy day. 

His hands kneaded her ass, parting her cheeks to see the puckered hole that only he knew - a vulgar secret and privilege he'd never take for granted. Although, perhaps he'd take it later on when he'd fucked her pussy numb. 

"Feels so good, Captain," (y/n) gasped, glueing her eyes to the skyline as her husband moved again, finding a rough, sweet pace that had them slumping against the window like rutting animals. 

"I know, darlin'. Shit, your pussy feels so good," he groaned from above, belt buckle jingling with every movement of his hips. His skin was blazing, still dressed from head to toe, but it only inspired liquid fire in the heroine's veins; glancing down to her right to see his biceps in that black muscle shirt. 

Her pussy fluttered at the image conjured in her head: sweat clinging to his skin, strands of hair falling from his gelled quiff, the trail of hair down his navel peeking out from the hem of that stupidly hot shirt from where he'd shoved his jeans down those toned thighs. 

She just knew he looked like sin and heaven and everything she needed for another gush of slick to run down her thighs, making her lover snarl and smirk. 

"You fuckin' love this, don't you?" He chuckled, resting his forearm on the window as he snapped his cock into her harder, nosing her cheek as (y/n) struggled to breathe--see--think, let alone speak. 

"Wha--?"

"Anyone could look up now and see you, and you don't give a shit. These pretty fuckin' tits are on show for the world, but you're mine, aren't you?" Ray growled, releasing her iron grip on her pelvis to gather a fistful of hair, bringing her head back towards his. 

He'd never hurt her; a gentleness in everything he did, even when he slapped and pinched at her stiff nipples - moans falling from her lips with every tweak and tug. Something green, dark, and ugly rose within him when he thought about someone else seeing her like this, bare and beautiful, which should've been for his eyes only, but it merely made him fuck harder. 

Anyone would look up and see him fucking her, his touch making her cry in ecstasy, his ring on her finger. 

"Yes--sh-shit, yes!" She nodded weakly, a thrum of pleasure passing through her as her doofus wrapped himself around her, her bare back to his fully clothed front.

"You love this--can feel your cunt squeezing me, dirty little girl."

"'M all yours, Ray. Love how you f-fuck me," the woman stuttered, practically drooling down the glass as he continued ploughing her pussy, bringing forth the release she needed so badly. "God, I wanna cum..."

"Yeah? Wanna cream all over my cock?" Ray cooed with an evil, shit-eating grin as he snaked his hand down to her woefully neglected clit. He'd left it alone for far too long, leaving it exposed and throbbing in the cool air until his fingers began their assault.

"Let me cum! P-Please, I need--I need--I--" (y/n) shrieked at the sensation, lurching forward as he rubbed rapid circles against her most sensitive spot, electrifying her every nerve end. 

Her tongue felt clumsy and too big for her mouth. It barely wrapped around each word as she gabbled and babbled like an idiot, feeble and pliant like putty for her doofus.

"Fuck, you can't get enough. This little pussy needs filling every fucking day..." Ray muttered to himself, memories of their previous encounters coming to mind as he fluidly pumped into her, never failing in his rhythm. 

Before their flight, she'd begged him to fuck her into their mattress, accidentally nudging their suitcase onto the bedroom floor after he accosted her while packing. Maybe that was hours ago, and perhaps they'd had a quick fumble in the plane toilet, but God, if she was insatiable, he was ravenous. And he'd never, ever say no.

"I'll give you what you need, precious girl--I'll always take care of you..." He mumbled, lapping at her neckline as he played her every weak spot, 

"So, cum for me...Let go, sweet girl. Let me feel you...""

It ripped through her on his word, pulsating around his cock as Ray groaned, willing himself to thrust through it, crowding her against the window until he had her tits pressed against them. He kept circling her clit, whispering sweet, filthy nothings in her ears as her fingers clenched and cunt twitched. Soak me...get this pussy ready for me...fuck, I know what you need.

"Shit--Ray!" (y/n) screeched, writhing in his arms when he didn't stop. His thrusts were frantic and fast, balls slapping against his ass as Ray groaned. 

He couldn't help it; maybe it was the romantic setting, the thrill of exhibitionism, or the temptation of another round on the bed, but something told him to claim her now. He felt wound up like a coil, endlessly needy and in love with his perfect wife as she became even slicker around him.

He'd undoubtedly make it up to her - in no way planning for the night to end so early. This was only the first round, and he planned to stay inside her all night, to make her see stars with orgasm after orgasm until she didn't know what planet she was on, but first, Ray needed his release. 

The sensation of his pretty girl coming around him was convincing enough; it had been hours since he came inside her, and something inside him itched. 

It was a peculiar feeling, one he'd never felt in his life until he met and wedded her. The thought of painting her insides with his cum made his thoughts go black, replacing them with deep, carnal desires to see her swell and grow, all because of him. He'd make her grow and change, and fuck, the outcome... He knew she said to wait, but fuck if it didn't excite him, just the thought of giving her a ba--

"Gonna fill you up, sweet girl..." the man choked out, stepping closer until (y/n)'s entire body was pressed against the window, rutting against her ass and a sensitive spot inside her in tiny, grinding thrusts. He felt it getting closer, scolding himself for not lasting. 

But her pussy was incredible, stealing his resolve as he curled his arms and brought her into a tight embrace.

"Yeah? Gonna cum inside me, doofus?" She whispered, grinning dopily, still riding her high when she turned to look at him over her shoulder. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he seemed effortlessly handsome as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, panting hard. 

"Fuck, yeah..." Ray nodded feverishly, eyebrows knitted together in concentration as he kneaded her tits and tummy, not knowing where to touch, "Gonna stuff this pussy and then--shit--I'll--"

"What, doofus? What do you want? I'll do whatever you want..." His wife asked softly, rocking backwards on the balls of her feet to meet his thrusts, adding a little extra bite to the pleasure that coursed through them. The glass had fogged up, and if any sightseer looked up now, they'd doubtlessly know what was going on, but neither cared. 

Everything built up slowly and quickly at once, pushing them further together until the lines of reality blurred with delight, making Ray throw his head back and howl. He returned to her clit, keeping his arms tightly around her frame--like he couldn't bear to let her go, not when the end was so near.

"That's my good girl," he growled, smooching her cheek loudly as he raced through a million daydreams - all of them filthy. On the bed, on the dresser, the vanity table, seeing her on her knees, parting her thighs and diving in, bending her over and pounding her needy little hole until the sun came up. 

"I'll eat you out after this."

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. Let me have a taste. Let you cum on my face, and then, I'll fuck you again and again," the hero rambled on, sinking further and further into his desire, getting off on everything he wanted to do to her. 

"Ray..." And it seemed she wanted it, too. She bent her back, arching into his touch as they fucked harder and harder, chasing their highs. The extra stimulation of her clit brought (y/n) to another peak, tilting her head back against his shoulder, and Ray knew she was his to drain for pleasure.

"Not letting you go tonight, darlin'," he promised against her temple, hot breath rolling across her face as his pace became uneven yet snappier. "I want to have you all night."

"Cum for me, then, doof. Fill me up," (y/n) coaxed, finding his hand on her breath and threading her fingers through it, holding it over her heart as she whispered the sweetest words of the night. "I'll let you fuck my ass."

It ended him. A harsh gasp ripped from the man as his hips pressed into hers as far as possible. Warmth spread inside the heroine as he stilled, saying nothing but rushed mumblings of her name and small groans, holding his sweet girl as tight as he could. She came second, milking him in gentle waves, mewling softly as he painted her insides before all of Paris.

Strong arms - those bulking biceps - held her safe, cooling their blazing, sticky bodies against the steamy window, refusing to pull out since his pearly load was so precious. It felt right to keep it inside her - it scratched the itch, and even though he knew they shouldn't, it didn't mean he couldn't dream. 

Just knowing she was full to the brim with his cum, knowing one day he'd have the satisfaction of seeing her swell, was enough. For now. 

"Oh, fuck, Ray..." (y/n) sighed once they slumped against the window, fingers cupping her breasts and gently squeezing - more of a comfort thing than sensual. 

He rested his chin on her shoulder, sighing deeply as she leaned her weight back on him at his gentle touch, humming in mild discontent when she realised he was still wearing clothes. Admittedly, very hot clothes that made him look like some kind of God, but still. She wanted the intimacy of skin-on-skin, but that would be in a bit - once they had a breather.

"Good? He asked, kissing her shoulder, and he felt the weight of her flesh in his hands. He'd never seen someone so beautiful, utterly besotted.

"Good," she confirmed breathlessly with a delicate smile, reaching behind her to bring his face to hers. They shared a brief kiss, so soft compared to when he ploughed her senseless. "So good."

"Good," Ray smiled, squeezing her body before gazing at the skyline, all doe-eyed and gooey inside. The night sky was stunning, the warm glow of the lights even more so, but his sweet girl? She was everything he ever wanted and needed, looking so perfect with his softening cock still deep inside her. 

"I'm yours, too, y'know..." he muttered after a few moments of silence, "I want you to be mine so bad, darlin', but I'm yours too. You've got me--forever."

"I know, Ray. I love you, too," (y/n) sighed, rubbing her hand over his, grinning when she heard the slight chink of their wedding rings bumping together. 

To say she was glowing was an understatement; she was safe, happy, and warm with her husband, even if she realised post-entanglement that they'd played a risky game - fun but scandalous.

"Can't believe we just fucked in front of the most famous city in the world."

"I'm hearing no complaints...In fact, you begged for it. Screamed," Ray grinned, and upon hearing the smirk in his voice, (y/n) whacked his shoulder, albeit with warm cheeks and a grin of her own. 

Perhaps that was true, but people in glass houses... He made himself sound like such a prude. Yet, really, he was the horniest man she'd ever met, and the one with his pants hanging around his knees because he'd been so desperate - the one who'd still not yet pulled out because he was hoping to get lucky again. 

"Only because you seduced me! Like you did before we left home and were on the plane. You're a bad influence, you big doofus." She giggled, gasping slightly when their bodies moved, making his cock drag against her walls. 

It wasn't the best argument, given how her eyes fluttered closed, biting her lip in what Ray saw as an utterly seductive move. Was she trying to make him want her? Because it was working, he whispered hotly against her ear, suddenly serious and baritone, his voice as smooth as a rich, dark chocolate.

"Can't a man make love to his wife?"

"Against a window for the world to see?" (y/n) gulped when he tweaked her nipples again, sending all-too-familiar shockwaves down her spine as her sensitive core tingled. Ray was silent and simply leaned forward for a filthy kiss - all tongue and teeth as he planned his next move. What was that offer she made again?

His eyes glanced down to where their bodies connected, feeling himself harden inside her again when he observed the deliciously slick flesh engulfing his cock. Only he had a different goal, pulling out of her entirely to a chorus of petulant whines as he drifted north. 

He'd give the city a show, wanting his precious wife ruined and speechless by the end of the night. It started when he pressed himself into her tight passage, turning whimpers into wails and gasps as he whispered...

"Well, when in Paris, sweetheart..."

*je suis sweating after that, mon amors. mais oui, mais oui ray wants his baby so bad (and I do too but not yet ruth.)

children, open les peepers and let's go forth. we've got some weird mime shit to get through and endless bits of pda from our doofus and sweet girl. 

allon-sy! (said the 10th--or 14th???--doctor).

~The next morning~

The team rose bright and early, donning their uniforms before heading to a quirky cafe in downtown Paris. 

Everything was so French, unsurprisingly, with freshly baked bread, croissants and coffee for breakfast, walking down the street to the sound of an accordion. Of course, Ray and (y/n) went hand-in-hand, wearing matching lightweight, waterproof jackets for the cool morning air, and they adored the city of love. 

It screamed them, strolling with enamoured smiles as the kids trailed behind them, chatting about the thrill of being in a foreign country. Bose was a little quiet, but (y/n) supposed it could be jet lag, and her doofus had already swept her into a passionate kiss before she could think about it further. 

She entered the cafe first, ears warming when Ray opened the door for her like a true gentleman, even if he left Danger Force to fend for themselves. He strolled in like he owned the place, looking ridiculously handsome in his Captain Man costume. 

He faced a hoity-toity old lady with a sour expression and an alarmingly bright red jacket, tie, and crisp white shirt - her name was Marie, and she had the joy of being their host.

"All right, everybody! Calm down! America's here!" Captain Man announced as he walked toward the woman and unzipped his jacket. Miss Danger gestured for the children to come closer. She was willing to let her husband do most of the talking since only he could saunter around with that level of nonchalant confidence. 

"All right, first things first, I got a couple'a great jokes about French people, so let's dive right in. How many French people does it take to surrender to--" Or perhaps not.

"Okay, doofus, we're not gonna go there!" (y/n) shouted above his voice, jumping forward to push him away before he could say anything offensive. They'd not even been there for twenty seconds, and he'd already scandalised his host, etching a deep frown on her face - some things were still too raw to talk about. 

"Je suis de le mond désolé pour lui," Mika crooned to the woman with her sweetest smile, hoping to smooth things over as her friend gave the hero a stern look. 

She'd sat with them on the plane, and when they didn't sneak off to the bathroom together - which was obvious to her - she'd had a few French lessons from (y/n). Not much, just enough for the average tourist, but Marie looked at her like she'd grown a second head when she put it into practice. 

"I'm sorry. I do not understand," the older woman replied in a thick, French accent, making the group's Smarties frown. 

"But she was speaking French," (y/n) pointed out, coming up from behind Mika to gently place her hands on the girl's shoulders. Ray's soft eyes followed her every move, but he smirked at his young sidekick, ready to deploy his smug face.

"But no! French is just English with a very ridiculous accent!"

"See? I'm right about everything," he told Mika arrogantly when she turned to him with that stupid and annoying face. Marie was nice enough, but that couldn't be right...and she desperately wanted to smack him.

"Oh, doofus..." (y/n) sighed and shook her head at him, but as always, she couldn't help but smile and peck his cheek. 

Ray was just too adorable to her when he looked at her with that dopey grin, sliding his arm around her waist as Mika rolled her eyes. Deep down, he knew she was right, glaring at the French woman for being so ridiculed. 

"This place kinda looks like Hip Hop Purée," Chapa mentioned as she wandered around the café, noting the similarities. 

The counter was in the same place with all the snacks and drinks, the logo on the wall was similar, and the decor screamed modern American culture. Save for the random memorabilia and displays around the room and the name difference with Paris, the heroes felt at home - almost as if they hadn't gone transatlantic. 

"But of course! We want you to feel at home while you guard our national treasures," Marie replied, dramatically gesturing around the room with elegant sweeps of her arms. 

"Well, I guess somebody has to," Ray retorted as the woman moved to the priceless artefacts they had to protect. His gaze slid to the only other Parisian in the room, glaring harshly at the blond, garlicky man as he spun around in an ergonomic chair and sipped an espresso with an unbothered, clueless smile. "Since Monsieur Man over there is on strike."

"That is correct. I will not fight crime until someone buys me a pretty pink motorcycle," he replied defiantly, looking almost ridiculous in his copycat uniform. (y/n) had heard how he was popular with the ladies, sharing many characteristics with Captain Man, except he hadn't found a sweet girl of his own yet. She supposed he was handsome somehow, but he had nothing on her husband. 

"I'm sick of taking the subway! I want to drive around and say, beep, beep, beep! Out of my way! I am Monsieur Man!"

"Okay..." Was all Chapa had to say, reacting to his cheery explanation with a flat, bored expression--almost a look of repulsion. She wasn't impressed, wondering why she had to travel thousands of miles for the whims of some spoilt little French boy. 

"What are we guarding here?" (y/n) asked, turning to Marie to refocus the group. Still, when she saw the items the hostess had gathered, she wouldn't exactly call them treasures. 

"Only the most important treasure in all of France," she said proudly, gazing at the weirdest collection of knickknacks they'd ever seen.

"Napoleon's pants..." She held up the so-called antique, and everyone wrinkled their noses. The garments were pinned to a board for preservation and were tiny as if they belonged to a child. They'd yellowed with age, looking disgustingly old, wrinkled, and manky as she held them to the light. 

"The first French bread ever baked..." She gently picked up the long, stick-like baguette like it was made of glass, but dear God, the smell. 

The bread had to be decades old and had turned a dark shade of green due to a cakey layer of mould. It was enough to make anyone sick to the stomach, and (y/n) nuzzled against Ray's chest, subtly inhaling his fragrant cologne and not the musky stench from the bread. 

"And finally, the original helmets of music superstars, the Daft Punk." She smiled at the futuristic helmets, which made everyone genuinely smile. They could be considered true treasures - part of music history, even if they weren't precisely to Ray's taste. 

"Ah...I definitely know who Daft Punk is because I'm cool, and I know cool things," the man commented flatly as he stared at the helmets. Yet, nothing came to mind, not even when the kids cheered and gasped with excitement. Even his sweet girl grinned with awed eyes, her hand clamped over her mouth. 

"Really, doofus? I wouldn't have thought they were your thing..." (y/n) frowned confusedly as she squeezed his beefy arm to her body. She knew everything about him, from the colour of his underpants to his childhood imaginary friend to his favourite baby name. This was news to her. 

"Name any of their songs," Mika dared him, making the hero freeze, not that he showed it. He couldn't care less about this Daft Punk, but he played it off well, keeping his expression stern and focused as he ignored her. 

"There's no time!" He shouted dramatically before snapping his gaze to Chapa. "Volt! Let's get an inventory of those weapons before any of these cheese-eaters try to steal my favourite band's helmets or whatever."

"Uh, we got a problem, Cap..." The girl said slowly as (y/n) glanced at her lover suspiciously, only to look even more perturbed when she heard that. Those weapons were all they had; problems weren't what they needed when they'd left everything else at home. 

"We took the wrong bag," she revealed, snatching a familiar item from the gym bag. 

Ray scoffed at that doohickey of Bose's creation, his little windmill of angry faces. He hated that thing, but unfortunately, they'd mistaken the proper weapon bag for the identical junk sack, and he growled when he yanked out another bizarrely useless item - a tangled, brightly coloured, shaggy slinky. 

"Aw, what? Care to explain this, buddy?" He asked the kid harshly, stomping over with the slinky in hand to where Bose had been deathly silent, keeping himself to himself in a shady corner. It was weird; he was typically so outgoing, but he had barely said a word since they'd left Swellview, and even when his boss snapped, he didn't turn around. 

"I can't because I am the dumb one," he replied quietly, sounding like he'd gone swimming in a brewery, slurring his words in a funny voice. His jacket said BrainStorm, but (y/n) narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Bose, honey..." she called out to him, reaching to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. The poor kid sounded like he had the world's worst cold, but as Ray threw the springy tangle into a corner, a sour smell assaulted his nose, a shiver ran down his spine...a deep, instinctive yearning settled in his gut. 

"Ew...did someone science in here?!" He questioned in a disgusted tone with a wrinkled face, glancing at his sweet girl and the kids.

"Don't luck at me, doofus! I only do math when you're around to drool..." (y/n) exclaimed as she and Mika held their hands up in defence. They were The Smarties but had barely had enough time to sleep, let alone flex their brains, so it didn't make sense. That is until Ray's nose pointed him somewhere else.

"Wait a minute," he muttered, squinting at Bose's figure. His superhero senses told him something was wrong, especially when he noticed how the boy refused to look at him and how short he seemed to be--a little too shifty.

So, he yanked the hood down, revealing those familiar sickly brown locks and a pair of dark sunglasses. He quickly ripped from his stunned face, and there were a pair of irritatingly familiar, wide, brown eyes locked onto his. 

"Schwoz! Dang it!" Ray snapped upon seeing the genius through his cunning disguise, making the others gasp in horror, too. "I thought I told you to stay home, you little nerd!"

Schwoz didn't even need to think about his next move. He'd been busted, and now that the cat was out of the bag, he felt no loyalty to Ray. There was no need to keep up this façade, not when he had a personal mission to complete, so he threw the hero and his sidekicks an anguished glance before bolting for the door.

"I want to find looooooove!"

"Wait...if that was Schwoz...then where's...?" Mika pondered as she stared thoughtfully at Chapa, who was stunned speechless by the handyman's devious actions and dramatic exit.

"Kevin!" Ray screeched in horror, his face a picture of panic when he realised the worst. The thought was there, but come on...

"Um, doofus, you mean, Bose?" (y/n) corrected in a whisper as she hovered by his elbow. She was equally terrified at the heart-stopping thought of accidentally leaving one of her babies in the Nest. Still, she couldn't help but frown when her husband got his name wrong - after so many weeks, if not months, of knowing him. 

"I mean--Bose!--I mean, BrainStorm!" He exclaimed dramatically when he realised he lacked his wife's tact, shouting the boy's name when it should've barely been a whisper. 

But he got there in the end, and the couple gawped at each other in a state of pure panic; this was the first time they'd forgotten a child in the many years of having them, and it felt like they'd lost a limb. They felt sick to their stomachs, foreheads clammy and fingers trembling as (y/n) slowly shuffled into his embrace, picturing the poor kid alone in the Man's Nest. It broke her heart, and all she could think was how it was her fault. 

You didn't check. You should've noticed. You will be responsible if he gets hurt. Her brain always picked the right moments to be so helpful. 

"You guys, what happened to Bose?" Chapa asked angrily, breaking them out of their self-loathing. She was aloof and insensitive, but deep down, she cared about her friends--especially the ones who could barely tell a goldfish from a grenade. 

"Did we leave him at home?"

"Alone?" Miles gasped, snapping his gaze to his teachers as they gulped. 

"Yes! Oh, God...we left BrainStorm at home! Oh, my baby..." (y/n) whimpered, feeling truly awful as she hugged herself. Ray tried to comfort her, keeping his arm around her shoulders as he mournfully stared at the floor before pecking her hair. 

"He's my favourite one!" He nodded, not that it helped. The others looked at him offendedly, although Chapa could understand why. Still, (y/n) slapped his chest and tried not to smile or show any sign of approval because that would be wrong. Very wrong.

"Captain Man! We don't have favourites!" She told him firmly, flashing the children a wobbly but sincere smile since she loved them all for unique reasons, but that wasn't important whilst she sunk further into her sadness. 

"But poor Bosey...he's probably scared and cold and hungry and tired, and oh, God! Doofus!"

"I know, sweet girl. I know..." Ray sniffled, holding her painfully contorted face against his chest when her rambling turned into anguished, strangled cries. He couldn't bear to see her sad but knew her pain, feeling responsible and guilty despite not showing it; deep down, he cared, and it was enough to bring tears to his eyes, too. 

They could picture it now: he'd be tucked up in a corner of their home, not knowing how to find the kitchen or turn up the thermostat. He wouldn't have gotten any sleep, too afraid of the dark and the monsters that could lurk in it since he didn't do well alone. The poor kid must've been terrified, and it was impossible to help him--possibly days before they could go home. 

He didn't show it often, but Captain Man would move mountains for his sidekicks, so it mildly shocked them to see him so distraught. The man resorted to squeezing his beloved wife in His embrace, manically petting her soft hair as she fanned her eyes, refusing to show fear in front of her other babies, but they wouldn't stop. 

"Somebody call my baby Bose...My poor baby," she whimpered, feeling a little pathetic, but luckily, Mika swiftly fished the PearPhone from her pocket. She had Bose on speed dial, clicking his contact and holding the cell to her ear as the dialling tone beeped. 

"Relax, (y/n/n)...I'm calling him."

"It won't work!" A cruel, mocking laugh came from the corner - more like a sneer. Miss Danger flashed her most vicious glare at its owner, wishing she could burn holes in Monsieur Man's head as he sat there, perfectly content and carefree, whilst her world was in chaos. 

"Listen here, Pepé Le Pew..." she growled, so ready to sink her claws into him that Ray had to encircle his arms around her waist to keep her at bay, only for another annoying froggy accent to reach her ears. 

"The cell phone service you are using, ATandOui, is on strike."

"The whole country is on strike," the French hero explained, coolly sipping his espresso as Ray tried the number to no avail. "They all strike for Monsieur Man. Ha, ha!"

"Okay, that's it! I'm gonna rip his head off. See if he's still smirking then." (y/n) lunged for the man, hoping to at least gouge an eye out or break his nose, but Ray was too swift and strong. He kept her snuggly in his arms, whispering soothing words in her ear to drown out Monsieur Man's victorious huff. She was better than that, even if her babies' safety could make her ferocious. 

"If only we had someone who could teleport back home..." Miles suggested dryly, giving the woman a bemused yet tender look, making her ears warm. 

"Au revoir, Frenchies," the boy sassed before jerking his arm in the air, disappearing in a flash of golden light. Surprisingly, he didn't reappear half a centimetre to the left or an inch to the right, so Ray and (y/n) assumed he'd returned to the Man's Nest - a much-needed reassurance. 

"Nice! One of your superpowers actually worked... Lookin' at you, ShoutOut," the handsome man remarked, which earned a few eye rolls from the girls, but at least his wife perked up, and he was relieved to see her smiling again. 

"Wow, you're really gonna go there?" Mika growled, a little hurt, but she had the last laugh when (y/n) reprimanded her doofus like a mother berating her child. 

A gentle tug on his earlobe told him to behave, and he begrudgingly apologised to the girl, earning himself a soft kiss. They leaned in, needing a little sweetness after so much distress, but just when their lips were about to touch...

"What are you doing?!"

"Get out of here!" Two disgusted, ladylike voices suddenly bellowed from the female toilets at the back of the café, and a mortified figure burst through the door. It was Miles, who covered his blazingly hot face with his hands after seeing...things. He'd be scarred for life, but nothing was more humiliating than an utter failure. 

"Okay, if anyone else is curious, that is the ladies' room," he said meekly as his friends stared at him, making the girls cringe. Nothing was worse than stumbling into a place where you couldn't be less wanted, and he'd really taken one for the team there. 

"Anybody else got any ideas?!" Ray asked sternly, still worried and now pissed off since he'd missed a kiss from his sweet girl. And he really needed that kiss.

"I've got an idea!" Monsieur Man called from his cosy corner, ignoring Miss Danger's frosty glances. She'd warm up to him eventually - all women did - so he couldn't help but smile when she rolled her eyes and snarled.

"Merci, but we're good."

"Ah, but mon chéri..." the Parisian hero crooned smoothly with a blinding smile, a little too flirtatious for Ray's liking, as he stiffened and stood closer to her. But Monsieur Man was harmless, shifting his gaze behind them, finding something hilarious as everyone stared at him.

"Why don't you stop that mime from stealing the baguette?" He suggested playfully, pointing to where a sneaky criminal had slipped past Captain Man's razor-sharp senses and swiped the mouldy bread. 

The heroes turned around to see the bizarre man creeping away most ridiculously. He was a classic mime, his face painted a ghastly white with exaggerated features. At the same time, he wore a black beret, white gloves, a monochrome striped shirt, braces, and black breeches. 

Watching him was funny as he kicked his feet out with every step, the baguette raised high above his head, but despite the cutesy act, a criminal was still a criminal. 

"Freeze!" Ray ordered after getting over his initial shock, and the mime immediately stopped...and began shivering?

"Oh, freeze! Like he's cold... That's kinda good," (y/n) giggled as she watched the silly man tremble like he was stuck on an arctic tundra. It even broke a smile on Ray's face, laughing with the kids when the actor hugged the baguette close and chuckled, too. 

"All right, take it. You've earned the bread..." Ray sighed--so impressed with his quick wit and improvisation that he didn't have the heart to chase after the criminal. But that wasn't the point, much to his sidekicks' disgust and fury. 

"No!"

"That's stealing!"

"He's getting away!" Mika and Miles exclaimed, wildly gesturing to the mime, who prepared to make a swift if overacted, exit. Luckily, Chapa had the brains to guard the door, blocking his path with the deadliest weapon in their arsenal - The Mean Wheel. 

And surprisingly, it worked. One flash of Bose's grumpy face and the mime cowered away, holding his hands up in surrender with little fight left to flee.

"I guess it works!" The girl declared happily, expecting an epic brawl, but maybe Bose was onto something. It gave Ray enough time to grab the guy by his collar, yanking him back into the store.

"Well, sometimes, you just--" he grunted, pulling his detainee back with a mighty jerk as he jogged on the spot, "--y'know, get lucky."

"That's a Daft Punk song..." Miles pointed out, but he wasn't surprised when a blank expression passed over the hero's face. 

"I know it is. Thank you," he scoffed casually, even though no one was fooled by his bluff. 

Ray had to save face, not only for the civilians and so-called heroes watching but for his sweet girl, who shook her head in amusement as she kept her eyes trained on the mime. She didn't trust them - something about how they didn't speak made her nervous. 

"Then sing it," Chapa taunted, smirking underneath her poker face. Everyone knew the man couldn't resist a challenge, and it was a battle of wills as he pondered his next move. 

"Too expensive..." he answered vaguely before quickly dropping his gaze to the surly mime, clenching his fist around his collar in case he tried to escape. 

He didn't trust them either, snapping his fingers for Mika to bring him a chair. The girl gently placed it in the middle of the floor, unaware of his plan. 

She was shocked to see how roughly her teacher shoved the poor man onto the seat, nearly pushing him onto the floor as a melancholy pout made his bottom lip wobble. It was even more alarming to watch Miss Danger loom over him, an uncharacteristically aggressive glint in her eye as she studied the mime's pasty face, unnerving him for some weird reason. 

She knew they had to question him about why he targeted the national treasures, but did they have to be so...mean?

"Talk!" Ray bellowed, making the actor flinch at his loud tone. Still, he said nothing - just collected himself and returned to sitting prettily. 

"I said talk! Tell me where your friends are!"

"He's a mime. They don't talk!" Mika told him exasperatedly, knowing he could shout all day but never get through. (y/n) usually told him stuff like that, but she was weirdly silent for some reason, observing the mime broodingly.

"They also don't have friends," her brother jokingly added, which to most people would be true. Mimes were socially celebrated, perhaps a little nerdy and weird in most circles, but the couple knew better. Oh, they knew things the children would never believe. Things that would scar their innocent minds. 

"Oh, he's got friends!" 

"Guys, he's a mime. They live in hives, so when you see one, there's always a mime hive nearby," the heroine explained, much to the children's confusion. They looked at her like she was crazy, not missing how antsy Ray was. 

"I expect this from Captain Man, but not you, M-D. Are you thinking of bees?" Chapa asked dryly, unable to believe such outlandish, childish nonsense. 

"No! We're not making this up!" (y/n) exclaimed indignantly, clinging to her husband's arm as he frantically looked around for this so-called hive. "Mimes work together, they live in hives, and they protect their Mime Queen at all costs! Trust us!"

"I do not trust you..." Miles replied slowly, staring at the couple warily. He couldn't trust them, not when she spouted such nonsense, and he fondled any bit of flesh he could reach. Still, Ray didn't need their faith, nor did he seek their permission, returning to glare at the mime and bark his orders. 

"Talk! Tell me where your hive is!"

"He's not gonna talk!" Mika yelled back, wondering when the man would learn, not that he'd listen. 

"We'll see about that..." Ray growled before reaching for his belt, fingers fumbling angrily as he searched for his laser remote. In his experience, although unpleasant, a little pain and zapping here and there often loosened a criminal's lips. Even if the children disapproved, he shot a few orange bolts at the mime's shoulder, searing his skin a little - not enough to scar, but just enough to make him yelp. 

"Talk! Talk! Talk!" He snapped, zapping the guy three times until the mime clutched at his chest, a mournful expression turning his face sour. He was an excellent actor and didn't break character through the mild torture. 

"Okay, this guy's good! He's gotten me twice so far. I say we just let him have the bread, you guys."

"No!"

"Stop!" The children groaned as the hero stopped his interrogation and smiled cheesily. That's what the crook wanted--to lure them into a false sense of security, but they knew better. Plus, the bread wasn't theirs to give away like some two-cent fairground prize. 

"Doofus, our job is to protect the bread, not give it to the first person who smiles at you!" His sweet girl said, chastising him, but Ray just whined like a little kid. 

"But he wants it! Look, he's hungry!" He said petulantly, grinning as their captive pretended to tuck a handkerchief into his collar, rubbing his tummy like he'd not eaten in a week. The man felt sympathy for him yet failed to realise that the mime could just go to the bakery and buy fresh, non-mouldy bread. 

"Well, he can go and whistle for it 'cause he's not getting a single crumb!"

"He's got a little bib going..." Ray sighed, amusedly watching the mime's antics even as his beloved wife scolded him. He was in a world of his own, absentmindedly patting the small of her back as Mika groaned and rolled her eyes. 

"Cap..." she called out, but his stare remained blank and vacant. 

"CAAAAAPPPPP!" The girl said louder, her flat tone finally reaching him when (y/n) whacked his shoulder and flicked his ear. The man blinked a few times, turning to his wife with a slight pout since he didn't like being on her wrong side, but the annoying noise of Mika talking to him soured his mood. 

"WHHHHHAAAAAAT?" He replied in the same monotone drone, flashing the whites of his eyes when they rolled back in disgust. Would they ever stop pestering him?

"Let's try something else," she suggested, gracefully brushing past his rudeness when her friends slapped him again. Giving her a grateful smile, she turned to the mime, studying him closely. 

"Like what?"

"What if we just played along? Let's let him do his mime games, and maybe he'll like us and tell us something," The girl grinned hopefully, making her teachers exchange a thoughtful look. At least they were considering it. 

"If he won't speak our language, let's try speaking his..." Her brother added pensively, circling the glum-looking mime as he gently placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. He agreed with her; he'd always been the hippie type, and it was much better than lasering the poor guy. 

"Oh, no! I sure hope no one throws an imaginary rope around me!" Mika exclaimed in a weird voice, drawing puzzled frowns from her friends. 

Her cheery, overly enthusiastic attitude wasn't natural. She sounded like she was on a TV commercial or as if she'd had a brain transplant, especially when she smiled like that - a little too brightly for sanity. It didn't impress Ray or Chapa, the latter of whom folded her arms and glared because it was stupid. There was no way she'd do that. 

"What?" They said together flatly, but it worked on the mime. He perked up instantly, turning that frown upside down when he finally understood ShoutOut's meaning. Snapping his head in her direction, they smiled gently at each other, radiating hope, peace, rainbows, and everything else Chapa hated. 

"Because then I'd have no choice but to get pulled in." That had the stripey-shirt-wearing man leaping excitedly, as giddy as a schoolboy, to join her little game. As Mika began to jovially run away, he expertly mimicked taking an imaginary rope from his imaginary belt before spinning it around his head like a lasso and tossing it in her direction. 

"Oh no! I'm running away!" She announced in that fake voice before she was caught, arms glued to her sides like he'd tied her up. "He's got me!"

"He got you! He totally got you!" Ray exclaimed, happily pointing to the mime's antics as he began to pull the girl toward him in solid and dramatic tugs. Someone changed his tune quickly...

"Do me next! Do me! Rope me!" 

"Doofus, watch out!" (y/n) gasped when he pushed past her, Miles, and Chapa, utterly charmed by the mime's innocent act. 

It was a world away from how he'd threatened and assaulted him, jumping up and down with his hand above his head. He volunteered as tribute, ignorant to the tired, shaking heads behind him. Was this a good idea?

~

Ten minutes later, the mime had added to his posse. 

He'd managed to rope - literally and figuratively - Mika, Ray, (y/n), and Miles, lashing them together with his invisible lasso. They didn't struggle, playing his little game with bright smiles and good sportsmanship - everyone except Chapa. 

The moody girl refused to stoop so low, hovering on the sidelines with crossed arms and a joyless expression as she watched in disdain. She couldn't believe them, watching as they fell for its tricks one by one, huddling together until (y/n) was pressed against her husband's side and her fellow students were tucked under her arms. Utterly ridiculous. 

""Uh-oh, we're tied up!" They exclaimed, clamouring loudly about how fun it was, how clever the mime was, and how they were finally getting through with him. All of which Chapa resented. 

"Now, you gotta do Volt next!" She scowled at Ray's suggestion, throwing him a killer glare as she leaned against the door. 

"Tie up, Volt!"

"Yeah, do Volt!" Their endlessly irritating cries came, and she huffed and puffed at how they encouraged the alabaster-faced criminal. It got worse when he flashed a saccharine grin and began to spin his invisible lasso above his head, intent on roping her into it. 

"Nope. Not doing it," Chapa stated firmly, turning her nose up at the thought, even when they begged and pleaded. 

"Come on! You're in Paris! Give in to the whimsy!" (y/n) said teasingly, feeling a muscular arm curling around her waist. She wasn't keen either but quickly found the fun in the mime's horseplay since it gave her a great excuse to stand closer than proprietary usually deemed acceptable to her doofus. 

"Whimsy! Whimsy! Whimsy!" The Macklin twins chanted as Ray dipped his head to smooch his beloved wife's cheek. 

He'd definitely succumbed to the whimsy, holding her tightly as the children caused their raucous. Glancing up from her soft skin and sweet-smelling hair, the man smiled when he saw Chapa budge an inch, slowly - very slowly - edging toward her friends in little jumps as she fought off a grin. 

"She's moving! She's playing along!" He exclaimed, laughing when the girl finally gave in and showed that beautifully rare smile, side-stepping closer to them with every yank of the pretend rope. By the end of it, spurred on by the chant, she was entirely into it, leaping toward the group like no one was watching - even Chapa had a little child inside her who wanted to play. 

"Man, I told you this guy was good!" Ray noted as she wiggled close to him, beaming at her teacher due to her good mood. It was a little disconcerting, but they went along with it, happily huddling together as the mime crept away. He had them right where he wanted them...

"That's it, case closed. He's gettin' the bread."

"He's not gonna get the bread, doofus," (y/n) giggled as she rested her cheek against his chest, so entranced with his handsomeness and the thumb stroking her hipbone that she didn't notice anything behind her. 

It was just the chattering children, her, and her husband, who slowly reached down to kiss her gently - the best distraction. 

"Ew, do you guys have to do that when you're so close to us?" Chapa grimaced, looking up from her excited conversation to see them locking lips. She could even practically feel the pleasured rumbling coming from the hero's chest and gagged when (y/n/n) cupped his cheeks happily - vomit-worthy. 

"I think it's the romantic atmosphere. Do you see how he clung to her this morning when they left the--"

"Hold up!" Miles gasped, interrupting his sister's idealistic and romantic rambling, when he noticed something weird. While they'd been talking, kissing, and God knows what else, the mime had disappeared to rummage through their bag of useless weapons; only some of them weren't so useless.

"What's happening?"

"Uh, is this still part of his act?" (y/n) gulped nervously, feeling rather stupid as she separated from her lover to see how the mime had literally tied them up. Even though he'd used Bose's bizarre slinky, he'd wound it around their bodies tightly, forcing them together until he had a nice little bundle of superheroes under his control, stuck and helpless in the multicoloured tangle. 

"Yeah, let him do it, sweet girl! Don't worry!" Ray reassured her, returning to focus his lips on her jawline since he wasn't worried. He could protect her immediately, although the mime was utterly harmless in his mind. 

"I thought the whole thing with mimes is that they only pretend to do real things," Chapa noted, her happiness gone and replaced with her signature moodiness. But this time, it was justified, seething at the guy as he pulled the slinky tight, squeezing her abdomen uncomfortably. She knew this was a bad idea, but nooooo...

"No, the thing about mimes is they make invisible honey," Ray explained, not that it helped their nerves. 

"Again, bees." Mika sighed, wondering how his imagination worked, but then, an obnoxious laugh broke her from her panicked thoughts. A very irritating, French-flavoured laugh from the man across the room. 

"What are you laughing at, French fry?" (y/n) sneered as she turned to Monsieur Man, thoroughly irritated to learn that he'd witnessed their whole failure. 

He stood in the doorway to the other side of the cafe, nursing yet another coffee as he watched bemusedly, highly entertained by how his American cousin floundered so spectacularly. But he didn't react to her sore-loser sourness, flashing her that charming smile again like he did with all the ladies and nodded toward the entrance. 

With a small amount of strained effort, the group shuffled around to see what he was looking at, feeling faint when they faced a band of more merry mimes. 

Ray gasped loudly when he countered three more pasty-faced men, one clutching Napoleon's pants as the other two flanked a lady mime. 

She wasn't just any old weirdo, though, staring at them down her nose with pursed lips. There was something different about her than the others, not just the small accents of red in her outfit; above her white face and stencilled eyebrows, a pretty little crown sat nestled on her pinned-up hair, a symbol of authority in the mime world. 

"It's more mimes!" Miles cried, suddenly feeling like a sitting duck as he accidentally elbowed Mika in the ribs when he jerked in surprise. 

"They've come from their hive!" Ray growled, glad he'd taken his chance to wrap an arm around his sweet girl, protectively holding her against his chest. She turned in his arms to hold onto the kids, pulling Miles and Mika closer as she glared at the head mime, knowing she was as vicious as they came. 

"Is that...a Mime Queen?" Mika gulped, leaning back into the woman for comfort as the Queen pretended to act something out, holding a blue plate with a slice of toast. 

"And is she squirting invisible honey on a piece of toast?"

"Of course she is!" Captain Man exclaimed angrily, silently furious with himself for being duped so quickly when he knew their tricks so well. "I told you I'm right about everything!"

"Stop gloating, doof! They're...laughing at us..." (y/n) breathed out, her mouth dropping open when she indignantly watched all four mimes bent over, laughing their lungs out. They pointed and giggled, chuckled, chortled, and barked like a pack of hyenas, much to their anger. 

But no matter how much the team struggled, growled, or begged, they couldn't get free. The slinky was surprisingly sturdy, so knotted and jumbled that the links couldn't be undone, even if Chapa bit it, if Ray puffed out his chest, if (y/n) yanked it, or if the twins tried to untie it. Watching them struggle, muttering curses and harsh words as they knocked against each other, was hilarious, and the mimes retreated to the corner to plot revenge. 

With their enemies rendered useless, they turned to the Mime Queen for orders, hissing and giggling as they imagined all the fun of stealing the national treasures before their eyes. 

"We gotta stop those mimes!" Chapa exclaimed as the others tugged her one way and tossed her another. And to make matters even better, Monsieur Man sat on the sidelines, chuckling at every slip-up they made. 

"I'm trying. I'm just stuck!" Miles replied curtly, squirming against his friends and teachers to try and loosen their bonds, but it was no good. Bose was really ahead of the curve with that goddamn slinky. 

"I can't believe this stupid thing actually works..." Ray mumbled to himself, furious that he had his sweet girl pressed against him, gyrating, and he couldn't do a damn thing. Not to mention that his young protégés were at risk like fish in a barrel, and to top it all off, that smug idiot was loving every second.

"...and stop laughing!"

"Stop being funny!" Monsieur Man shrugged, his shoulders shaking mirthfully, much to the other hero's fury. 

It was too much for poor ShoutOut, who felt the pressure of every more than most - the mimes, that asshole, their infuriating bonds, the urge to protect the treasure, the reputation of her whole country on their shoulders. Succumbing to the stress, she released an almighty scream from deep within her diaphragm, reverberating so powerfully that it blew the door shut and knocked the mime squad over. 

"It worked!" Mika gasped softly, shocked that she'd managed to activate her super-scream when it was typically so elusive. 

"About time..." Ray muttered quietly, earning himself a sharp jab to his elbows from his wife. 

The kids were slowly but surely getting better at their powers, which Miles proved when he wormed an arm free and managed to thrust it in the arm. He vanished from the huddle, and with his disappearance, the slinky loosened enough to drop to their feet. Now, the tables had turned. 

"Hey! Nice job, AWOL!" Miss Danger exclaimed gleefully when she took her first unencumbered breath for the first time in fifteen minutes. The group immediately jumped apart, scared to be roped together again, even if the Mime Queen and her minions were still winded on the floor. 

"Where'd he go?" Chapa asked, scouring the room for her teleporting friend, but he was nowhere to be seen. He could've gone anywhere in the world knowing the unreliability of his superpower. Still, there was no time for a debate. 

The Mime Queen recovered from the minor attack relatively quickly, and her subjects followed when she got to her feet. She put up her fisticuffs, ready to battle the heroes to her last breath, glaring at them as they shook off the shock of Miles' teleporting. 

"Who cares?! It's queen-punchin' time!" Ray barked, dancing on his toes like a boxer as he readied himself for a fight - and boy, he wanted to sink his teeth into it. (y/n) copied his movements, drawing her fists close to her face as the kids did the same, following his lead. 

"Ahhhhhhh!" Ray bellowed his battle cry, brawny arm raised high above his head as he charged, desperate to pound the Queen into the ground. She met his attack with equal tenacity, leaping with the grace of a ballerina before she brought her fist down on his cheek. 

The hero tumbled to the ground like a sack of potatoes, dazed by the brutal blow as the other mimes circled his sidekicks. They were efficient, keeping (y/n), Mika, and Chapa away from their boss as the Mime Queen beat him while he was down - not very sporting of her. She kicked and clawed at him, trying to squish his skull with the pointed heel of her boot, and it was more than Ray's job's worth to swiftly roll out of the way before he was jelly on the floorboards. 

"Captain Man!" (y/n) called out worriedly, dodging the mime who tried to drag her around by her hair as she watched her beloved doofus rolling around to preserve his life. The woman was vicious, snarling with each foot stamp, but she had to trust him to care for himself. 

Mika and Chapa relied on her expertise to keep the mimes at bay as they battled to protect the treasure. The former wrestled with one to retrieve Napoleon's pants while the latter worked with her teacher to throw another against the wall. Monsieur Man nearly spilt his espresso as the mime bashed against it with a groan. 

Still, he was amused anyway, thinking Miss Danger looked very pretty in her uniform. He sighed contently as she held the mime by the throat, unabashedly slamming his head against the bricks as Chapa dusted her hands off. 

Across the room, Ray had escaped the Mime Queen's clutches, taking his chance to swipe her feet out from under her. Luckily for his French cousin, he didn't see how his soft eyes followed her, wondering what it would be like to have a pretty assistant like her to fight by his side. And what a sight she made, tossing another mime into Chapa's hold, only to roughly throw him to the ground. 

"Waaaaaah!" Mika shouted as she tried to activate her scream on her opponent as he whimpered on the floor, still refusing to release the pants. "Okay, this worked a few minutes ago!"

"Miss Danger, get over here and help me with the queen!" Ray yelled to his wife, making her anxiously dart from him to the children and the remaining artefacts on the counter. She'd fight by his side in a heartbeat, but a hand on her arm stopped her. 

"What the--?"

"We have to secure the treasures!" ShoutOut implored, knowing they'd merely stupefied the miming minions. They'd only need a minute to recover and swipe the treasures again - Ray would surely be okay on his own. 

"Who cares about the treasures? Give me my wife!" The man argued, ducking and weaving against the evil woman before him. "We gotta take out this queen before she lays any more eggs!"

"Eggs?!" Chapa gasped, having never heard anything so weird and grotesque. 

She didn't want to know how that was possible, but she didn't have time to question it, watching when Ray tried to punch the Queen several times. He gave her a succession of swift, straight lefts and rights. Still, she miraculously evaded them, floating like a butterfly and stinging like a bee. 

"What?" He mumbled when she mimed, moving something out of the way, distracting him for a split second. It was long enough for her to whack him across the face, much to Monsieur Man's amusement, as he tumbled to the floor. 

"Oh, shut up, you smug ass!" (y/n) growled at him before rushing over to her husband, unnecessarily worried, but she couldn't help it. "Doofus, are you all right?!" 

"I'm fine, darlin'..." The hero swiftly reassured her with an enamoured smile, wiping his lip to chase away the fleeting pain before lightly gathering her in his arms. There was no time for more comfort, but it was enough to quell her worries until he picked up a smooth, pale object from behind the counter. Well, that was worrying, and he turned to Chapa with a stern frown. 

"Eggs that hatch into mime larvae! Keep up!" He growled, his tone varying wildly from how he gently addressed his sweet girl as he brandished the disturbing egg at the girl. 

The Mime Queen didn't take too kindly to her enemy holding one of her...children and angrily yanked it from his dirty mitts before kicking him in the guts. The brutal blow knocked the wind out of Ray, who grunted and panted as (y/n) turned a disgusted and shocked scowl at her. She didn't take too kindly to see her husband hurt. 

"Hey!" She shouted, pointing an angry finger at the nonchalant Queen as Ray hunched over the counter. "No one kicks my doofus!"

In a daring, deadly charge, the heroine took everyone by surprise and tackled the Queen, pulling her to the ground for what could only be called a bitch fight. Straddling the woman's torso as she blinked up at the ceiling, she slapped her silly across the face, hoping to rearrange her pointed features or, at the very least, make it sting. 

After pummelling her cheeks a little, she scrambled to her feet, dragging the Queen with her as the children watched with wide eyes and mouths. God...remind them never to threaten her husband. She was lethal, taking the lady mime by her collar and launching her over the counter without mercy - it was less than she deserved. 

With the Mime Queen down, the mimes resumed their fight, brawling with the children as Ray straightened and rushed over to his breathless girl. 

She couldn't be hotter in his eyes, worthy of a thousand kisses, not that the girls cared if they shared them now. Chapa was busy with her mime, trying to zap him with some electricity to retrieve the Daft Punk helmet. Still, he was too slippery, slapping her hand away at the last minute. 

The scarlet lightning missed him and flew to Mika instead. Goddamn, it burned her skin like hellfire, pulling one of her ear-splitting screams from her throat, which luckily took down the mime. Unfortunately, as he tumbled, he crushed the precious helm, shattering it into a million billion shards. 

It was neither Daft nor Punk, just fragments of something formerly great, making the kids cringe as the treasures fell through their fingers. 

"Sorry!" ShoutOut exclaimed woefully as she stared at the ruined helmet, feeling endlessly guilty since the scream was unintentional - indeed an accident, but tell that to the people of France. 

"It's okay..." her friend said breathlessly, more thankful for the rescue than the loss of the treasure. 

Still, as she took a breather, Ray and (y/n) were plunged into the fray again as the Queen snuck up behind them, enacting her revenge by curling an arm around (y/n)'s throat. She had a little foresight, sensing the encroaching danger soon enough to jam a hand between them, but it was a barbaric attack. 

"Can't...breathe..." she gasped, flailing against the Queen and the iron grip threatening to crush her windpipe. Ray was ready to kick the woman's head in, seeing red when his wife's eyes narrowed, fighting to free herself, but Chapa moved quicker. 

Thinking on her feet, she grabbed the first weapon she saw - the beloved mouldy baguette that Marie loved so much. She didn't hesitate as she seized the slightly squishy yet stale French stick. She only saw the desperate need to free her friend as she stormed forward, brandishing the disgusting thing. 

"All right, lady. Ba-guette wrecked!" She exclaimed, particularly proud of her sick quip as she cracked the bread over the Queen's shoulder, making her release the heroine and collapse. 

Breathless, (y/n) fell against Ray's chest, unbothered by the mouldy crumbs all over her uniform since she was safe and unharmed, with only a few bruises for her super-regeneration to heal. Even Ray was stunned, instantly holding his sweet girl, but damn...

"Ba-guette wrecked?" He echoed incredulously, but there was a grateful glint in his eyes as the girl nodded sheepishly. "Okay, Chapa..."

"Thanks, kid," (y/n) said graciously, rubbing at her sore throat as her doofus smiled proudly and tittered over her health. She was fine, but the same couldn't be said for Mika, who'd been left to face the mime minions while they battled the Queen. 

"Uh, little help?" She called out awkwardly, struggling with one of the henchmen as he took inspiration from his lady and encircled her in a deadly embrace. 

Still, he was no queen, merely holding onto the girl for dear life as was his duty, so it didn't take much for her friends to free her. Glancing at one another, the couple and Chapa turned to the mime with bared teeth, threateningly stepping forward and screaming like they were about to tear him limb from limb. 

It was enough to scare him shitless, and he released Mika without hesitation, making a break for it like only a mime could. 

"Thanks..."

"No problem." The girls smiled at each other as (y/n) squeezed Ray's hand, glad to have a moment to breathe now that the mimes were scattered. They'd done pretty well to say they'd lost a third of the team, but the peace didn't last, not when Miles randomly teleported back into the room. 

He'd been across the ocean and back, bursting here, there, and everywhere before finally returning to his friends, eager and ready to fight. Unfortunately, he was a tad tardy, looking around for any enemies while his friends clutched at their heaving chests - did he have to sneak up on them like that?

"Aw, man. I missed my chance to punch a mime?" The boy whined after squealing, visibly deflated, when he realised that every mime was either unconscious or gone. 

Still, he wasn't disappointed for long, not when a loud, obnoxious, high-pitched alarm balled through the cafe, bathing its walls and residents in red light. The heroes looked around suspiciously, wondering if it was another mimey trick or something else to worry about. Yet, Monsieur Man leapt to his feet in delight, bounding over to them with all the energy and friendliness of a Golden Retriever. 

"The strike! She is over!" He announced joyfully, much to their confusion. It had barely been going on for a day - how could it be over already when they'd only just arrived?

"What?"

"Yes, the France has purchased me a pretty pink motorcycle," the smarmy hero explained, casually flicking through his social media before beaming at his stunned American counterparts. "Now, beep, beep, beep! Out of my way! I am Monsieur Man! Ha-ha!"

"God, I hate him..." (y/n) sighed as she watched the Parisian disappear through the entrance, skipping like a little girl at the thought of riding through the city on his bike, golden locks billowing in the wind. Well, as long as his garlicky smell was as far away from her as possible, she didn't care, tucking herself into Ray's side, smiling at his grumpy face. 

Some use he was; he could've at least stayed to help them round up the mimes before running off to play with his new toy, but no matter. The team were used to getting their hands dirty and doing all the work, so they gathered the mimes and their Queen up in no time. 

Bose's slinky - who Miles reported was safely at the Man's Nest like they feared - helped bind them together in a tit-for-tat style. They huddled in the middle of the room, snapping and gnashing their teeth like wild animals as Chapa helped (y/n) finish the final knot, ready for the cops to collect them. 

They thought it was a job well done, clapping each other on the back and taking a minute for themselves when Marie burst into Hip Hop Paris. She looked like she'd run halfway across the city, stray hairs flying away from her sweaty face as she fixed her gaze on them. Miss Danger would bet ten dollars she knew what she was about to say...

"Captain Man! Mademoiselle Danger! The strike! She is--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. She's over. We heard." Ten dollars to her. She was ready to go home, tiredly tucking herself into Ray's side as he wrapped an arm around her waist. France was a little too hectic for them--and a little too weird. 

"Did you protect our French national treasures?" Marie asked in concern, only to pale when the couple and their sidekicks winced guiltily. They could barely look her in the eye, let alone explain that they'd either been crushed or smashed. 

"Well..."

"Uhhh..."

"Not even a little," Chapa replied in her signature deadpan, barely using a fraction of the remorse or tentativeness as her friends. She stood with her arms folded, not flinching when Marie's face fell because what was done was done. They'd defeated some mimes; that was something. 

"Hey, the pants made it," Miles exclaimed when the yellowish garments caught his eye, having been discarded by one of their opponents during the fight. They looked a little dusty, but otherwise, they were perfectly unscathed, and he bent down to pick them up for the concerned hostess. 

"Oh, wait, AWOL--" (y/n) started, reaching out to try and explain that old clothing tended to be delicate and easy to rip, but she was too late. The boy didn't reach for the board behind the pants; instead, he grabbed the leg, accidentally tearing the stitching when he pulled it too hard - and Napoleon's trousers were ruined forever. 

"Never mind..." she muttered timidly, cringing when Miles stood up with the material still clenched in his fist. 

"My bad. That's on me." At least he was noble enough to admit his mistake, not that it comforted the woman. 

"What are we going to do?" She cried, tears gathering in her eyes, which never moved from where the pants formally laid, unharmed and relatively pristine. How was she supposed to tell the nation that the ones they'd hired to protect them were no better than the ruffians who wanted to steal them?

"Oh, well. We...are gonna go home," Ray told her awkwardly, looking at his pretty girl, who eagerly nodded despite her morality saying otherwise. She didn't want to stick around for the angry mob to come with their pitchforks and torches, and Ray much preferred his own bed for many reasons, eyeing the door as Marie glared. 

"You cannot just leave!" She exclaimed haughtily, not that the hero gave a damn - he didn't answer to anyone...well, no one but his wife. "You came here, made a lot of dust-up, and destroyed all of our stuff!"

"Well, y'know..." (y/n) said awkwardly, not knowing how to explain it other than... "America."

"Nice one, sweet girl..." Ray chuckled in her ear as Marie tossed her arms in the air and marched off, undoubtedly to clean up the mess they'd made. 

Still, she left their exit clear, and the group happily tiptoed toward the door now that they'd escaped a major telling-off. 

"Can we go home, please?" She asked sweetly, smiling up at her doofus as he squeezed her hand. How could he refuse a request like that? He felt utterly exhausted after such a dramatic and lengthy trip, and nothing sounded like a better remedy than curling up with her in their bedroom to watch a cosy rom-com--one of her favourites, preferably. 

So, leading her by the hand with the children following like chatting ducklings, he guided the team toward the door...only to be halted again. Ray had to grit his teeth to stop swearing, especially when he recognised the smooth, shiny head that ambled through the door like nothing was wrong. 

Schwoz. He'd soon made himself scarce, the bald little weirdo, fleeing when they could've used another extra body during the battle, even if it were merely a meat shield. But something was off, namely the gorgeous woman with her arm wrapped around his shoulders. He didn't...did he?

"You guys! I met the love of my life!" He announced with one of the brightest smiles (y/n) had ever seen, and despite her tiredness, the romantic sight lightened her heart. 

She could see why Schowz had fallen for the lady; she was tall, cheery, and beautiful, with her hair falling around her face in soft curls, pretty pink makeup, a flowery dress, a matching scarf, and an elegant handbag. She was everything and more for the handyman, who beamed with such a delicate creature on his arm, even if she was almost double his height. 

"Aw..." she murmured, melting when the lovebirds smiled at each other, yet Ray wasn't so touched. 

"We're leaving," he ordered curtly before seizing (y/n)'s hand and dragging her through the door. She could barely steal another glance at the couple, feeling like she was losing her real-life rom-com before she could sink her teeth into it. Talk about a killjoy. 

"Doofus!" She exclaimed, digging her heels into the ground as he marched into the street, barely looking back at her. 

"But I just found true love!" Schwoz argued, refusing to give up his beloved's hand when he'd dreamed of this moment all his life. It wasn't fair; everyone else, even Ray, with all his flaws and failings, found their soulmate, so why couldn't he? It was heartbreaking, especially when a rough hand grabbed his shoulder. 

"I said, we're leaving!" The man hauled him through the door, and the love of Schwoz's life slipped through his fingers like sand. They stared at each other mournfully as the children hurried past, not wanting to be entangled in something so complex. 

Even the captured mimes looked gloomy, which (y/n) didn't miss as she tripped over her feet on the way out. One look at Schwoz's wobbly bottom lips and teary eyes and her feet glued to the pavement, stopping abruptly in the street, much to the frustration of several baffled Parisians. 

And if she stopped, the others stopped too, refusing to leave Miss Danger behind, even though they could weirdly ignore the genius' silent hiccups and sobs. 

"Doofus, what are you doing?" She asked coldly, although when Ray whipped around, he saw more confusion in her face than disgust. 

"You said you wanted to go home..." he replied simply, shrugging as if nothing was wrong despite her folded arms and Schwoz's trembling form. "So, we're going home."

"And what about everything back there?"

"What are you talking about?" He frowned, much to his wife's apparent disgusted shock. She stepped away from him as the kids looked at the couple with blank stares, wondering what to do since they were having a bit of a domestic. 

They deemed it best to step to the side and start their own conversation; experience told them that fights and arguments were vanishingly rare and often ended before they barely started. They discussed everything from the weather to the dichotomy of good and evil - anything to give them space. 

"Okay, don't be doofus all your life," (y/n) groaned, giving him a mildly bemused but mostly exasperated look. Even he wasn't that dense, merely playing coy because he knew she was irritated. "I'm talking about Schwoz and that French woman. Y'know, the love of his life."

"So?" Ray asked, tentatively placing his hands on her hips. He was gently surprised to realise that she wasn't totally pushing him away. 

She sighed and returned the touch, reaching up to fiddle with the zip on his tunic, knowing that he could be unnecessarily, stupidly, ridiculously dense sometimes. But she knew deep down that he wasn't cruel, just...silly. Such a silly doofus. 

"So, he should go be with her. You can't just rip them apart!" The heroine exclaimed, and Schwoz nodded weakly, pining for his sweetheart. He wanted to go and take her in his arms, just as Ray did with his sweet girl, but he wouldn't move with permission, too fearful of what the hero would do. 

"Eh, he'll get over it..." the man replied casually before taking her soft hand. He wanted to take her home more than anything, eager to board the first plane and forget everything about this irritating trip, but (y/n) would budge, standing still with a face like thunder. 

"Raymond..." she said firmly, taking his face in her hands so he could look into her eyes. "What if we lost our chance like this?"

"What...?" Ray gasped, heart fluttering at the implication, even if vague. 

He didn't question anything to do with her, too thankful that he'd landed the girl of his dreams to want to know what his life would be like if he one day woke up to find out everything was a dream. The thought felt like a knife through his heart, turning the man with unwavering nerves into a shuddering mess. 

"What would you have done if, all those years ago, someone took me away from you and said to get over it?" (y/n) proposed softly as the same emotions ran through her mind. 

It was unimaginable; they were so solid and dependable, the couple everyone could rely on to always be together because they were soulmates. They were the universe's plan, star-crossed, and whatever else, snuggling closer when they wondered...what if they never fell in love?

"I'd rip their head off," Ray said quietly, and (y/n) didn't argue when he wrapped his strong arms around her as if he was terrified she'd disappear. 

They were silent for a minute, hearing nothing but Schwoz's deep breaths and the children's debate over smooth orange juice or the one with bits in it. He kissed her head gently, so thankful he could say his ring was on her finger. "I'd go through hell for you, darlin."

"And I'd do the same for you..." she promised, pecking his cheek before pulling back to look at him with a soft smile, sighing. 

"So, don't you think Schwoz deserves the same?"

"But sweet girl...it's Schwoz!" The hero exclaimed, glancing at the sorrowful genius, who looked worse for wear. Even Ray could see how torn up he was, and he felt a little bad, but come on... It wasn't like any of his relationships ever succeeded--like Ray could talk about his past flings. 

"But doofus...nothing! Send him back there, or I'm not sitting next to you on the plane!" It was an empty threat; (y/n) always had to sit next to her doofus, needing to hold his hand on take-off so she'd never make him bunk with one of the kids. 

Still, it inspired a slight panic in the hero, who gasped in horror and held her tighter at the thought of sitting beside...Chapa. 

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, I would! Come on, doofus...do it for me. And for Schwoz. And for the Frenchy lady," she argued, soothingly rubbing his chest while fluttering her eyelashes - tempting and convincing him in only a way she could. 

Ray sighed, weighing up every option. He hated the idea of losing Schwoz, knowing more than anyone that when a man fell in love, he'd forsake his every faculty and responsibility to pledge his devotion to her instead. He'd undoubtedly move out and start a new life, and he'd lose one of his oldest friends - that's why he was cruel...to be kind. 

"...Fine. But just because I love you." After a few minutes, he heaved a heavy sigh, meeting Schwoz's gaze, who hoped with all hopes to have the green light. One nod toward the café, and his face lit up like a Christmas tree, shouting a million thanks before sprinting toward the love of his life and all the possibilities she could hold. 

"I'll take it!" (y/n) squealed, looping her arms around his neck as she held him close, her beaming grin matching Schwoz's and the kids as they silently watched how he ran like the wind. It was weirdly kind for the man, who hated to see him go, but her happiness was worth it. 

It would be like that one day; everyone would move on until it would just be them left - just him and his sweet girl. Henry left, and Charlotte, Piper, and Jasper left, too. Danger Force wouldn't last forever, either, and Schwoz wouldn't work for him indefinitely, not when, hopefully, they retired and had kids. 

Not everything lasts forever, and Ray was gradually getting used to that fact, reassured that the love of his life was eternal. A love that would last a lifetime. 

"Y'know, there's a heart of gold underneath that grumpiness."

[totallynots8tan]

Heroes of Olympus & related characters as things my loved ones have said

Leo: I am organized. Just in a very chaotic way.

Hazel: In a divided country be the glue

Nico: Kay, I’m going to go summon the dead

Will: ok, have fun

Magnus: Oh no! My finger fell off!”

Boob pocket

-Piper

Piper: Hazel, you can campaign for your uterus!”

Leo: Do I need to?

Nico: No

Leo: I know I don’t need to but should I?

Nico: No

Leo: I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve exercised bad judgement before

Nico: I have a dagger and I will stab you.

Percy: Haven’t you ever noticed that gummy bears like to cook burritos?

Nico: It’s better to be miserable and be right then to just be miserable

Hazel (when she lived in New Orleans): It’s a lot easier to wake up when you’re promised beignets

Leo, when Piper tried to explain what a period is: So your butt doesn’t bleed?

Piper to Annabeth: Ok, I’ll be *fruity* and you be fabulous

Frank, while playing musical chairs: Why is your seat so warm?

Leo: why is Jason’s seat so cold?!

Connor Stoll: *collapses on the floor dramatically*

Travis (referring to his ass): It’s one of my best features

Katie Gardner: well it’s better than your face

Piper to Frank: I may or may not have just flashed your street.

Leo, with zero prompting: People should make edible staples

Badass in a frilly dress

-Annabeth

Annabeth or Malcom: I used a lot of self restraint , and this is what I got ʷᵃˡᵏˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖⁱˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ three ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵗᵃˡˡ

Leo to Percy: Tell me about your bromance, dude (referring to Grover, Percy’s best friend)

Nyssa: A turkey on the side of the road just vibing (this one is hard to explain)

Kronos: I want to eat my babies

Frank: the crocodile came out of nowhere

Percy: He’s going to nap vertical. He’s a horse.

Nico: They’re soul sucking. And not in a fun way.

Hazel: We should eat salad with chopsticks (I stand by this statement btw)

Lou Ellen, referring to cats: I love ugly things

Cecil: oh, I didn’t know you were into me

Connor: Like dramatic gay bitches do

Drew, laying on Piper’s shoulder: you know, if this was (insert name of her current girlfriend), I would be laying on her boob.

“We need to make something where I never eat ice cream at night wearing a clean shirt.” — Nico (before Bianca died), age 9, after dropping chocolate ice cream on YET ANOTHER white collared shirt (am I projecting? Yes. My brother can’t keep a shirt clean for FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES)

[dee-in-the-box]

thinking. about the way i write Dee.

like, think about it: she probably spent the most time around Jack when she was alive, since we know Peter moved out at some point, and that means that Jack would've been the main guy taking care of her. we all know how Jack is. who's to say he didn't rub off on her a bit?

(also thinking about how she said "I didn't go down easily the first time, either!" and "To call my death clean would be to call Fredbear "big-boned."" because. It Gives Me Thoughts.)

like. i always project onto her a little bit. she gives off the vibes that she would've been a "weird girl" (read: autistic) when she was alive. like, she's generally off to herself, she's generally off doing odd things during recess, like watching cool bugs move around or swinging by herself while humming. sometimes she just kinda. stands around and watches everyone else. not because she's trying to be creepy, she just finds it fun. (< i did the "Stand To The Side And Watch Everyone Else Play" thing when i was little. also the swinging.)

she'll stare off into space for several minutes, and it concerns quite literally Everyone else besides Peter and Jack ('cause they Also do that). she'll just sit down and happily draw cats and Nothing Else for like an hour and she'll be like "ooo that was fun! :D"

she fidgets with her scarf when she's overwhelmed or nervous. she kicks her legs under the table. she hums various nursery rhymes.

and now, onto Dee being Chaotic As Hell!

i think Jack lets her swear. with permission. i mean, canonically speaking, she has sworn before, and has no problems with others swearing around her. like, imagine this five-year-old girl, all dressed up nice, just talking to you about cats like "so yeah, I think cats are cool as FUCK-"

given that this was still during a time where young girls were taught/expected to be nice, polite, quiet, and just generally not draw attention to themselves. Dee fits most of these...but she has to remind herself to be polite, because dear lord, is it hard to not call people assholes to their faces sometimes-

Jack would sometimes take her to work at the Diner, and she'd have to (as nicely as possible) make it clear to Henry that she wanted to be left the fuck alone. she doesn't trust this man, and she doesn't want to interact with him more than she has to.

(also, fun fact! my headcanon is that Dee fought back hard as she was being murdered. we're talking kicking, scratching, and biting Henry. and when i say bite, i don't mean she gives a moderate-strength bite that leaves a temporary-ish mark, i mean she bites him hard enough to break the skin.)

and i think this would extend to after her death! Dee knocking stuff off of tables like a cat while making eye contact with Henry and/or Dave! her just causing general chaos as a ghost!!

like, didn't Henry basically say that he was trying to trap Dee because she was causing so many problems? how much trouble was she causing in the short time between her death and when Henry basically forced her to possess the Puppet? apparently enough to where he went "Yeah, we need to take care of this, like, as soon as fucking possible."

like!! give me chaotic Dee!! she deserves it!!

[tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine]

2023 Character Wrap

Top 9 characters for the year.

1.) Major Anthony P. Havers-BBC Ghosts

aka my soft boy.

(Surprise the self-proclaimed Havers lunatic loves Havers 😉) Just know this man stole my heart in 2021 in under 4 minutes (the microexpressions fml) and this year it was my highlight to see him again. He's kind, protects the man he loves from ridicule, has a boyish grin and a cheeky streak. He likes dancing. He fell for his beau because he was attracted to his kindness. He's been through it and continues to go through it 😢Also PSC answered my question about him and I'm still screaming about it to this day🥺💖

2. The Captain -BBC Ghosts

aka my creaky boy.

He is silly, kind, gay and autistic, a dad, sometimes bitchy and one of my most beloved characters ever. Also so gorgeous and a little bit pathetic. I adore him with all my heart and soul. Blorbo from my shows.

3. Thraxus Boorman -Willow 2022

Sarcastic, great fighter, loyal, kind but he'll jump of cliffs to deny that (literally), the funniest character of 2023 and an absolute iconic bi disaster. He's a classic rogue, as is his absolute badass girlfriend.

4.) Joe Pritchard -The light in the hall

aka Joe, babes

Such a brilliant character, somehow really dark and mysterious but ultimate kicked puppy vibes. He'll keep you (and himself) guessing until the end if he really killed someone. He has amnesia due to traums. I really wasn't sure until the end if he did it or not. Amazing character. My Boy needs 1 million hugs.

5.) Graydon Hastur-Willow 2022

aka Graydon, babes aka Prince of darkness

A prince who loves learning esp. languages, very, very dark past, kind, loving, just some guy in love, easily corrupted but he's fighting it. and as it turns out he has a gift for magic. The sweetest love confession ever.

6. Barbara Parker/Sophie Straw-Funny woman

Gorgeous, hilariously funny, smart, sweet, standing up for what she believes in and makes her way in an industry that only treasures her because of her looks. But she makes them see how brilliant her brain is.

7. Sir Humphrey Bone -BBC Ghosts

aka Humphrey my goldhaas

Awkward, kind and odd. He deserves all the love in the world and to be seen and loved for who he is. This year he's getting revenge on those who ignore/mistreat him and I am here for it. Boy is not the best listener though.

8. Lord Adam Quinn -A kind of spark

aka my pretty evil princess

He is legit evil okay. But idgaf. Great villain and his modern day equivalent makes me weak in the knees. Portrayal wise he is also a small amount of ridiculous and I love that.

9. Robin the caveman - BBC ghosts

aka my chaos gremlin

Kind, wise, chaotic little gremlin also sometimes more the family dog than anything else. Loves space. Utterly hilarious and tragic at the same time. His worst trait is incest according to him. I love him so much I'm gonna get a tattoo that's just about him.

To be fair I have a plethora of beloved characters that rotate in my brain 24/7 but these nine were either new or in special focus this year. Ghosts hyperfixation is at it's absolute peak, I was barely able to watch anything else. Also I watched some things that didn't leave me with a favourite character 🤷🏻‍♀️However honourable mention has to be Allan from Barbie.

I'm tagging @hollow-ghost-fire , @unusual-ly ,@ineffablelunatic , @tonightwedance and @realismreading

[where-fantasy-meets-reality]

"We're Not Promised Tomorrow." Chapter 20 "...How Do I Say I'm Sorry?"

Pairing: Obi-Wan x Fem. OC

W/C: 5.2 K

Warnings: lots of angst, injuries, fighting, high emotions, blood, panic, stress.

A/N: Happy New Year everyone. I hope the holidays were good to you all and if you do not celebrate then I hope the season was filled with lots of joy, laughter, and good vibes. The angst train continues in the chapter but this is its last stop (for now evil smile) after this chapter, the fit will turn a coroner into one of my favorite parts of this whole fic. If you have made it this far, I appreciate you sticking with it. Thank you all for any support that you give and happy reading.

Masterlist can be found here.

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

Emily had cleaned her whole apartment, sterilized everything, and had thrown away Obi-Wan's torn and bloody tunic.

She placed his boots next to her tea table, folded his pants, belt and gathered his lightsaber, placing them on one of the sitting chairs in her living room

It was late; by her recollection, it had to have been at least a half hour after midnight. She was exhausted and emotionally drained. The dull throb in her head seemed to match the pain in her soul. 

The 7 P.M sparring session felt like it was a lifetime ago but it had been only hours since the incident. 

She had checked on Obi and he was sleeping soundly. He didn’t have a fever anymore and she had used the Force to again assess his injuries. His nose was almost completely healed and his insides were improving. Thank the Maker for Bacta. 

Emily had changed her clothes when she had stopped by her room. She changed into her clean black sparring pants and a white short-sleeved top and laid down on the couch in the darkness of her apartment; the only light that came in came from the floor-to-ceiling windows that brought the chaotic, outside world of Coruscant inside in her sanctuary. 

The fight that happened earlier in the evening seemed like forever ago...but the ache in her heart was as strong as it was the minute Sorv had entered the Arena and challenged Obi. Rolling over, she buried her face in the pillow and pulled her blanket up over her head, creating a cocoon of safety. She wanted to kick down the door of her bedroom and run to him. To throw her arms around him and break down all over again. To be completely vulnerable with her person was something she needed right now, even if she was royally pissed at her person.

She was so happy that he was alive and going to be okay. Yet, She also wanted to scream at him and tell him what an inconsiderate jerk he had been. Additionally, he acted like a complete macho, overprotective, stubborn male peacock who needed to strut his stuff to prove a point.

Attempting to sort through her emotions and control them (like a good Jedi) she allowed her mind to wander as she rolled back over and stared at the scenery outside of her wall of glass. The lights twinkled on the buildings and spreaders raced in all directions; it was truly the planet that never slept. 

“Maybe he was right. Maybe Jedi aren’t supposed to have personal relationships. It’s not like we have training with how to handle ourselves with our own emotions....let alone other people's emotions.” 

She drifted off to sleep as her stomach twisted itself in knots. 

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

Emily could feel distress around her. It was bearing down on her as if it was trying to suffocate and swallow her. She had become hot and sweating. Restless from tossing and turning, as if she was trying to fight whatever was bearing down on her; It was as if her body was trying to burn itself from the inside out. 

The feeling of sweating and burning woke her up, causing her to sit upright and gasping for air, fighting the suffocation.  For as hot as she had been in the dream, when she woke up, the apartment air was cool and the mood peaceful. Assessing herself, she wasn’t even warm or that sweaty... nothing like what she felt while asleep. She looked around confused. 

Her t-shirt and pants were dry, with no sweat or liquid present. 

She extended herself through the Force, still confused. Had it just been a dream or a vision?

No, the source of heat and stress was coming from the apartment; that was shown to her through the Force. She could feel the pull of heat and an oppressive weight centering around her.

She tried to follow its weight to the source, her eyes darting around her quiet apartment. When her eyes landed on her bedroom door, it felt as if her head were on fire. 

“OBI-WAN!” She gasped in a panic. 

She vaulted off the couch and sprinted the short distance into her room, practically breaking the door open with the speed and weight she hit it with. 

She burst into the doorway and found him in a pool of sweat and fidgeting in his sleep.

“No, no, no, no, no, I thought we were past this!” She hissed as she ran to him and ripped the covers off of him. 

Turning, she ran out of the room to her refresher and grabbed two big towels and a small one. She turned on the faucets and soaked them in cold water. Emily ran back to her and placed the cold towels along his body.

She laid the compress on his forehead, dabbing at the sweat, and then sprinted to the galley-style kitchen to grab some ice and more towels.

Making two makeshift ice packs, she placed one on top of the forehead compress and the other by his side, the two main sources of heat. 

She was already tired and worn out and didn’t know how much use she was going to be so the ice and cold compresses would help her bring down his fever naturally, buying her more time and wiggle room. 

Kneeling, she placed her hands on his chest and stomach and started commanding the Force to flow through her. 

She visualized everything she loved about him. His smile, those amazing blue eyes that gleamed like the oceans on Naboo, his wit and his corny jokes...how he was always a gentleman; usually so full of care, love and gentleness. The way he silently cared so much about his friends. What a great Jedi he was; centered, balanced, and brave. 

Oh, how much she loved him; If love was tangible. She visualized the fever being cooled from his body, visualized her mending his muscles and tissue, healing him. 

She had sat there and commanded continuous use of the Force for hours and hours. She would not give up on him despite how she felt about him at the moment. She had loved him her whole life, she would die trying to save him if she had to.

Emily felt like she was losing her grasp on reality. She had never healed someone for this extended amount of time. She was becoming woozy and she felt like her energy was draining itself from her body. 

 She was unaware of his state as her head slumped forward and she passed out.

The sunlight was coming through the blinds as it peaked into the bedroom apartment. 

Emily had passed out on the floor, her head still resting on the side of the bed, hands still on his stomach and chest. The cold, wet towels had pruned her skin and made her shiver.

There was a faint beeping noise that was bothering her, causing her to wake up. 

It wasn’t coming from the bedroom, it sounded from somewhere else in the apartment.

She was too tired to move. Maybe if she ignored it would stop? Then she could just go back to sleep.

After two minutes of continuous buzzing and beeping she begrudgingly got up and stumbled into her living room. 

The sound was coming from Obi-Wan’s pants. 

She sleepily fumbled with them until she found a comlink in his pants pocket. 

“Master Kenobi’s Comlink.” She said groggily. 

“Who is this?” The voice on the other end sounded.... hostile... accusing and even a bit...stunned... as if they weren’t expecting her to answer; which in fairness to them, they weren't. 

Their tone caused her to become more alert. 

“Who is this? You called this line?” She didn’t want to give anything away that she didn’t have to. 

“This is Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, his mission partner... Now I ask again, who are you?” 

She relaxed. 

“Hi Anakin, sorry for the guessing games, it’s Master Marblu.”

There was a pause; he didn’t answer right away. 

“Hi, Emily.” He sounded lighter, more smug sounding. She pictured that stupid, self-satisfied smile she was probably wearing. 

“Is Obi-Wan there? He was supposed to meet us at the hangar for a mission this morning, and he’s late….very late. Considering he's never late for anything, I knew something had to be up.” 

Someone was giggling in the background…Emily listened harder...yes it was definitely a girl giggling. 

“I don’t think he’s gonna make it to the mission today, Anakin. He was in an accident last night in the Arena. We were sparring and he did something stupid and he’s pretty injured. He’s sleeping right now and he couldn’t move if he wanted to.” 

“Is he alright?!” Anakin's tone had changed quickly from amusement to worry. 

“He is fine now. He was worse last night. Like I said, he’s sleeping and his injuries are healing for the most part. I patched him up last night, I have a med kit in my apartment. Are you able to do the mission without him? I could step in if you need me to.”

She didn’t want them to worry about him if she could get him on the mend and keep him there. She additionally didn’t want to leave him alone in her apartment in that condition, but she didn’t want his team stranded either. Maybe Xira could babysit him while she was gone if she had to?

“No, that's okay Emily, but thank you. You just take care of him for us while we’re gone. We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon and we’ll check in on him. Keep me posted if you need anything, I’m always here.” 

“Thanks Anakin. I’ll keep you posted and he’s in good hands, I promise I’ll take good care of him.”

“Well now, don’t take care of him too well if you know what I mean, he’ll become spoiled.”

Now he and the female voice were laughing. What were they insinuating? 

“Bye Anakin and Ashoka.” She spoke in a sing-song, teasing tone. She had a hunch of what they were getting at despite them supposedly being in the dark. 

“Bye Emily.” He teased her back.

The comlink disconnected. 

Well there was no going back to sleep after that, she was awake now for sure. 

She noticed that the chronometer in the bedroom read 8:30 A.M. as she took the towels off of him and put them in the hamper in the refresher. His bandages would need to be changed again but she didn’t want to wake him up just for that yet, it could wait a while longer. 

She made herself a cup of cinnamon tea but kept the pot boiling; he’d be awake soon and knew how he'd love a cup. 

She had a blend that she had gotten from another healer in the Medical Wing that was specifically designed to help speed up the healing process as it was loaded with special vitamins and herbs. 

She was sitting on her couch reading the morning news on her datapad when she heard the bed shift and squeak in her room. 

“He would try to get up by himself.” She huffed irritatedly, rising to her feet. 

“Nope; lay back down.” She commanded as she briskly walked back into her room. 

He ignored her. 

She placed her hands on his shoulders and gingerly forced him back on the pillows. 

“There’s nothing you need that I can’t get for you.” She told him, sitting down on the side of the bed as she helped him settle himself. 

He made a grumpy "hmph" sound as he fumbled with the covers. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, touching his forehead. His skin felt the coolest it had since the event. 

She took his face in her hands and titled it slightly in different directions to examine his nose. “Your nose has healed and isn’t broken anymore, so that’s good.” 

He sighed as he surrendered to her fussing. 

“I’m fine, I just wanted to get up and stretch... you don’t have to help me. I don’t want to inconvenience you.” 

“No, you need to stay put.” 

He put his head back on the pillow and huffed in annoyance again. If she hadn't been so angry with him from the night before, she would be amused with all the huffing he was doing. Like an annoyed Bantha calf who was being smothered by his mother.

His groggy voice brought her out of her daydream of a little Bantha calf taking a temper tantrum. “What was the horrid beeping noise this morning?”

As soon as he asked the question, a wave of recognition washed over him causing him to jolt forward and grab her hand despite the dull ache of pain in his side. 

“THE COMLINK! I’M LATE FOR A MISSION!”  He tried to use her as leverage to get out of the bed but she stopped him. 

“Easy killer, easy. They already called looking for you and I sent them off without you, you need your rest, plus you couldn’t go in this condition if you wanted to.” 

He formed the same irritated expression that was on his face during their fight last night. 

“You answered my comlink? What was your excuse for having it? Where was I? What did you tell them? And that wasn't your call to make...” 

“Slow down and calm down. First off, I told Anakin that you were hurt because you did something very stupid in the Arena last night, which you did, and that you were too injured to show up today. I told him I had to take you back to my apartment to heal you and I was letting you sleep. And guess what, like the independent, big boy he is,  Anakin wished you well and went on his mission with Ahsoka and the troops. I told him enough of the truth and surprisingly well it works well...when people listen.” She smiled a sarcastic smile. 

He rolled his eyes and looked away from her. “He has a big mouth, he probably found it amusing that you answered and now he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut about it; fantastic.”

“Mmmmm I disagree. He was amused, that’s for sure but I think you're making a bigger deal out of it than he did. Nothing incriminating happened last night, for once, and we can honestly abide by that story if we have to. Someone’s bound to notice the damage in the Arena and the trail of blood that you dripped from the Arena to my apartment. ” She folded her arms across her chest. 

He shook his head and chose to move on and drop it. He was tired, sore, and still angry about the previous evening. Yet, one fight with Emily was enough for a lifetime, never mind two in less than 24 hours. As angry as he was, he didn't want to fight with her again if he could help it. 

His hands felt the sheets on the bed that were still cold and wet. 

Changing the subject, she scoffed at the annoyance of damp, cold sheets. “Why is the bed all wet and cold?”

“You were running a very high fever at various points in the night. I grabbed a bunch of towels and ice packs and threw them on you... I sat down to heal you and further bring it down too. Last I remember it was about 4 in the morning and I was blacking out from exhaustion.”

There was no emotion in her words. They were blank and matter-of-fact. Like he was just another patient again. She had kept up that demeanor since last night. Obi-Wan knew what she was doing; she was detaching herself from her emotions to not fight with him either. 

His eyes snapped to hers, “You had to heal me again?….." His mind started racing as he was now fully processing her words. You were able to hold out for that long after everything that happened last night? For almost two hours?” Unlike her, his expression and voice was full of emotion as he was starting to understand what it means when someone loves you. 

“Yup.” Short, sweet, and to the point was still her preferred method of speaking to him. 

Before he could say anything else she got up from the bed. “I want you to drink a cup of tea, it's a special health blend from a friend who’s a healer and will help you get better quicker, so no arguments. We can't have you hanging around in this bed forever." She spoke to him from over her shoulder as she left the room. 

Leaning back against his pillow, he let out a long deep breath and blinked rapidly; he was misty-eyed. That’s three times now in 24 hours she saved his life or sacrificed herself or her well-being for him. 

While he was still being a total jerk....an ass....completely terrible to her. Even though he could tell that she was insanely angry at him, she had done everything to save his life. He knew she still felt this way, if he extended himself, he could feel it in their bond and her in her Force signature. 

“Because that’s what you do when you love someone you fool. You stand by them and take care of them through thick and thin....even when they do not deserve it." He stared at the ceiling. 

Alright, enough now Kenobi. Be a man, when she comes back you need to use your words. You are always preaching to Anakin about patience, humility, and using your words. It's time to listen to your own teachings matter how difficult it is." ” He spoke to himself, self-loathing brimming. However, this new experience did give him a new perspective on Anakin's Padawan years. 

Emily came back shortly after his thoughts had settled with a steaming mug of the ruby-colored tea. “Drink.” She commanded as she handed it to him. 

Normally, he liked tea and this one was very pleasing. Fruity, with a hint of spice; very flavorful. He took two large sips and could feel the warmness spreading through his body. It tingled as it flowed through him. 

He closed his eyes, relishing in the relief it brought. 

“Wow, this stuff really works...I can feel it going through me, and I've only had two sips...”

“Keep going; finish the whole thing.” It was a pointed order from her. 

He wanted to talk to her instead of focusing on the tea, that was more important to him. But if he knew her, she wouldn’t let him do anything until the cup was finished. 

He took the rest of it in large gulps that burned his throat, but he didn’t care. 

He placed the mug on her bedside table. Rising slightly and shifting his position to be more at eye level with her, he took her hands in his. 

His touch caught her by surprise; and threatened to make her crack; allowing all the emotions she had been holding back to burst. She was still angry at him, figuring her curtness had communicated that. She had stuffed all of her emotions down and was being a “good Jedi.” 

That is until he touched her and he looked at her with those eyes that made her heart stop beating, reminding her of a calm ocean after a rocky storm. 

She tried to pull away from him, but he put up a gentle resistance, keeping her in place. 

“Please. Don’t run from me.” Obi-Wan whispered to her. His glossy blue eyes looked at her seriously. 

She could see the sadness in them and could feel it in his Force signature. His voice was soft and quiet as if he was afraid to use it. 

“What is it? I'm sure whatever it is, it can wait, you need your rest.” Her voice was raspy and throaty. She shifted her eyes to his hands, if she looked at his face instead with those beautiful eyes, she was going to become emotional again and she was tired of crying. The rollercoaster of emotions had taken its toll on her. 

Yet Obi-wan held fast. He moved so that he held both her hands in one of his, and used his other hand to lift her chin, ever so gently, so that their eyes met. “I owe you the biggest apology. Emily…you saved my life three times yesterday, and if you hadn’t done it the first time, then you wouldn’t have been able to do it the other two times. I was able to have that fight with you because you saved my life, and I chose to take the path of frustration, arrogance, and anger in the moments when I should have been thanking you and telling you how grateful I am to you; because I am grateful. I am so incredibly grateful...Throughout his childhood, I was always there for Anakin, but no one was there for me in that way....he was like Padawan, kid brother and son all mixed into one. I didn't know someone could love me that deeply to you...My Darling; sometimes I can't believe that someone loves me enough, let alone that you are that someone...that you love me enough to fight back for me like that, to push yourself to your brink more than once, for me.” 

Her lip started to quiver.  

"I love you more than anything...but please, you have to understand why I am so angry with you....even if I shouldn't be. Please tell me you understand how you have not made yourself a target of that sick and vile human....the thought of him makes my skin crawl and my blood boil...I almost can't bear it..." 

His eyes bore into hers as he gripped her hands tighter. "why Em? Why did you do that? He's going to harass and toy with you every opportunity he gets... His focus was on me and I was trying to keep it there..." 

Emily’s eyes were watering.  “......He was hurting you….” The tears started falling rapidly as her breath came out erratic gasps. 

That was it. It sounded so basic, so simple; but it was no less true. She would never let anyone hurt him if she could help it. It didn't matter that it was someone who was once a friend and fellow Jedi, but had now become a borderline vindictive and manipulative psychopath. 

Obi-Wan softened. He couldn't stand to see her cry, and she had been doing so much of that lately. 

 Leaning forward, he used his thumb to wipe away every tear that fell from her warm and gentle chocolate eyes.

As she attempted to control her breathing, He gave her that half-smile he was famous for. 

 “It seems as if someone is as protective of me as I am of them.” 

They chuckled together while he now held her face in his hands. His thumbs continued to dry her tears...the lightsaber-worn pads of his thumbs rubbed themselves soothingly into her skin.

“Emily, the thought of leaving you alone in life makes me worried sick. If I had died, my last thoughts would have been about you. How much I love you and how sick with regret and worry I would be that now I can’t be there for you, that you would have been at his mercy in that moment ... I know what I did was wrong, I should have listened to you and denied his challenge.....Yet I don’t regret fighting him, he needs to be stopped and I wanted it to be me who did it. I’m sorry, I’m still angry about what happened. I don’t like what you did. Just as you had to witness your fears last night, one of mine is not being able to protect you; it’s who I am and I won't apologize for it. Now that you stepped in, you technically have to fight him to finish the challenge. He’s not going to forget about that.” 

“I’m still upset too. If you hadn’t accepted then none of this would have happened. I told you to just walk away, and everything would have been fine. I understand why you’re upset, that you don’t want me to fight him because he’s unstable, but I couldn’t let him hurt you, I just couldn't, I snapped. I’m sorry, I was scared and angry. Then when you started yelling at me, between what Sorv did, Mual's visions, and what I saw during the fight, I just lashed out at you in anger, I said things I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry.” 

She removed his hands from her face and held them. 

Obi-Wan returned the jester, holding her hands lovingly. “Then let's agree to disagree because we aren’t going to get anywhere; we were both right and we were both wrong it sounds like. We had our reasons for the way we reacted. To be perfectly honest, I can’t fight with you. It hurts me too much and it’s a waste of time because it’s not going to solve or change anything. Not only that, we’re allowing him to come between us, and I won’t allow that, not him. If we’re going to fight then let it be about something better than him. I’m sorry I was horrible and rude. Thank you so much for being there for me. My Dear, I love you. If this situation comes up again, I pray I’m around. I’ll let you do what you feel you have to do when the time comes because I do know you can handle yourself, but I will step in and end it if I have to; I’m done with his games.”

She leaned forward and gently hugged him, mindful of his side. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned back so that they were resting on the pillows. 

“Obi-Wan there isn’t anything you can’t protect me from. You’ve never failed me. The reason you failed last night was because you fought fair and he didn’t. You aren't a monster like he is and I don’t know if you ever could be, but that’s why I love you and not him. I don’t want you to be a monster. Yes, I agree. We did what we did, it is what it is and we have our reasons. If he comes back looking for another round, we’ll go from there. But honestly, I don’t know if I even accept his challenge, it’s not worth it. He’s not right in his mind; I’d rather involve the council sooner rather than later.”

She couldn’t see his face, she was still buried in him. He raised his eyes to the heavens and thanked the Force she didn’t feel the need to go after Sorv. He wouldn't stop her from accepting his challenge, because that would be the double standard that they argued about, but he’d absolutely go with her to the challenge. Knowing that she would have to fight that madman made him want to turn into a monster if it meant protecting her.

He placed a loving kiss into her hair. “We’ll go from here if it ever comes up again. We seem to have an understanding. For now, let's move on. My time with you is more precious and important than to waste it arguing about him and his foul games. I love you, I will always protect you, and stand by you. Always.” 

She lifted her head and kissed his lips. “Why do you get to have the big mushy lines that quell my anger and suddenly I’m in love with you all over again?” She was smiling. 

“Ah, because that’s just it My Love. I’m a stupid fool who is hopelessly and uncontrollably in love with you. And unfortunately for you, My Dear, you happen to love this fool back. I mean...I’m irresistibly handsome and charming so you have no shot of resisting me and I get infinite chances at making you smile again.” He teased her.

He closed the distance and attempted to kiss her but she was laughing. He still kissed her anyway. 

Emily giggled, turning into his advances, and easily found his lips. 

“I don’t know about infinite chances but you might be onto something with the charming and handsome part. And you're right. I do love you back. Sometimes I’m scared at how much I love you back and maybe it’s okay that you know that.” His beard tickled her as snuggled back into him. 

He held her close and rested his forehead against hers. The day had started with them being miles apart from one another even though they were under the same roof. Now, the distance was gone and their hearts were whole. 

They lay there for the morning, drifting in and out of sleep, content to be next to one another. 

By early afternoon she had changed his bandages. She ran to his apartment and grabbed him a new, clean tunic. They changed and dressed and went to speak to the Jedi Council.

 They gave their somewhat altered, slightly rehearsed statement of the story together, to Council. Rehearsed and altered only in the sense that they left out their argument and this morning's words of love; everything else was as exactly as it happened.

After they were dismissed, Jedi Master Sorv Deprov was escorted by two temple guards into the Jedi Council Chamber. Normally Obi-Wan sat on the council but given that he was involved in this matter, he was not allowed to sit as an active council member during Sorv’s questioning.  

Master Derprov neither accepted or rebutted the charges against him as Master Windu repeated the accusations and Master Yoda questioned him for his side of the story..

 When the council spoke to him, the Jedi master in question simply just stared back at them, blankly; void of all emotion. 

Luckily for Emily and Obi-Wan, their story matched up with the cracks in the Arena wall and the pool of blood on the ground, because Sorv, mysteriously, had not a scratch on him.

Given the fact that Sorv made no effort to defend himself or add any input to the story, and given his reputation for struggling with aggression, the Council unanimously ruled in Obi-Wan and Emily’s favor.

Sorv was suspended from the field until further notice, temporarily stripped of his clone regiment until his sentence was served, and was confined to the Temple and its grounds. Additionally, he had to engage in group meditation with Master Yoda three times a week to gain control of his anger and emotions. 

“I accept my sentence.” Was the only thing Sorv said during his questioning, the empty stair plastered to his face. His eyes were hollow, void of emotion…Master Yoda thought that even rage would be acceptable…normal for the master even…but emptiness ... the elder Jedi found that even more concerning. 

“A closer eye I will keep on him, during the meditations, I will.” Yoda thought to himself as he watched the suspicious Jedi be escorted out of the chamber.

@nanagoswife @transcending-time @sillynilly27 @kirstenvldfan21 @the-clones-and-me @tamnight @lucyysthings @naughtyry @nicole-lightfoot

[u-look-beautiful-today]

I saw the hp thingy you posted for Wenclair and now i wanna know your hc for the whole Nevermore kids :p

I'm so sorry this has been sitting for a few days, I'm stupid and it took me a HOT minute to realize hp is Harry Potter (at least I hope it is cause I'm answering it as such) Also, these are just my own opinions and of course everyone is entitled to their own thoughts! I believe that most of these characters fit into multiple houses! Also, I'll add if they would play Quidditch or not.

Wednesday: I think a good majority of the fandom would put her in Slytherin and I would agree! However, I do headcanon that she wants to be in Ravenclaw and well, the Sorting Hat had other plans. I also find it funny to think about Wednesday getting placed into Ravenclaw and just being a fucking menace. She was BANNED from Quidditch but with some...convincing she was placed back on the team BUT with the promise that she is NOT allowed to be a Beater, so she becomes the Seeker.

Enid: I almost wanted to place her in Gryffindor, but her whole scene with Wednesday and saying "that's what friends do" and how much she values friendship and togetherness just made me convinced for Hufflepuff. Also, all Hufflepuffs are secretly FERAL and I stand by that. And I also love Slytherin/Hufflepuff relationships. She played for like a year, but was off-put when she broke a nail. She would rather cheer her girlfriend on. Also super cute image to see Enid wearing a Slytherin jersey for Wednesday.

Bianca: I'm so torn between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, just like Wednesday. But at the end of the day, Bianca is also a Slytherin. I mean COME ON. My girl went and made her own life for herself and reached her goals, basically poisoned Yoko to win a cup, and has a million walls up so no one sees her vulnerable. Slytherin. I also like the idea that her and Wednesday go rounds trying to be the top student. Captain of the Slytherin team obviously. She is the best Keeper to ever live.

Eugene: the biggest Hufflepuff to exist. Like I don't need any explanation. I would say that he has avoided Quidditch because he thought he wouldn't be any good, then during his last year he tries it out and turns out, he's a decent Seeker!

Yoko: I need fucking CHARACTERISTICS, MY GIRL DESERVED MORE SCREEN TIME...anyway, for now I want her in Ravenclaw. She would be a witch in the au so no vampire, but I would like to think she's super fucking wise and almost like she's lived for centuries. It also be funny to see Yoko just naturally super smart and it irks Wednesday to no end cause "what do you mean you learned how to do open heart surgery over the weekend?!?" Nah, she ain't down for Quidditch. Just like Enid, she would rather cheer on her own girlfriend than play.

Ajax: Hufflepuff. It's shown in the show that he seems to be loyal to his friends and he just has a very happy-go-lucky vibe about him. I also adore a good platonic Enid/Ajax, so they be the absolute chaotic/idiotic bestie duo that has all of the Hufflepuffs STRESSED. He was also BANNED. Not because of anything violent, but his antics were just too much.

Divina: Again, MY GIRL NEEDS SCREEN TIME. The most we see from her is really just going along with Bianca and being gay with Yoko. That being said, I would like to have her in Gryffindor. Mostly because of Ravenclaw/Gryffindor dynamics. Love the idea of Yoko just trying to chill in the common rooms and her girlfriend is just bouncing off the walls cause "THIS IS SO BORING, I NEED TO FIGHT GOD." Gryffindor Captain. She's a bit of a utility player, mostly does Chaser and Beater.

Kent: My boy also needs more screen time. I want the twins together and I would have them give off Weasley Twin vibes, so Gryffindor as well. I believe that Divina is his impulse control, however where Divina will say she's bored and needs to fight God, Kent will do it without telling ANYONE. He's the reason Gryffindor loses house points consistently. Obviously, he plays. He's a Beater and when the Twins are both the Beaters, absolute chaos during that game.

Tyler: Azkaban. Death penalty. He would only be a monster that Enid beats the fuck out of.

[dangerousdispositions]

➪ CARMINE DURANTE

if you’re hearing WHO WE ARE by HOZIER playing, you have to know CARMINE DURANTE (HE/HIM; CIS MALE) is near by! the 36 year old PEDIATRIC ER NURSE at SUMMER VALLEY REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER has been in town for, like, FIVE MONTHS. he's known to be quite FICKLE, but being OPTIMISTIC seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that he resembles MANNY JACINTO. personally, i’d love to know more about him seeing as how he's got those TWEETY- BIRD PRINT SCRUBS, CRIPPLING CAFFEINE ADDICTION, AN OVERABUNDANCE OF THROW PILLOWS, DARK CIRCLES UNDER HIS EYES and A NEVER- ENDING STRING OF HALF- LEARNED HOBBIES vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around DOWNTOWN long enough!

name: carmine durante

age: 36

d.o.b. & sign: august 5th, leo.

occupation: pediatric er nurse at summer valley regional medical center.

hometown: seattle, wa.

gender identity & sexuality: cis male, homosexual.

relationship status: single.

likes: fruity drinks, nicotine (but he isn't proud of it), strong coffee (with plenty of cream and sugar so it doesn't actually taste like coffee), wearing bright colors and prints, staying busy.

dislikes: liars, feeling weak, his boundaries being disrespected, feeling like he isn't in control of any given situation, lack of/ improper communication.

CWs for domestic violence, murder (not graphic).

Carmine was born the youngest child to a single mother. His father was never in the picture when he was young, and honestly, he was never missed. With three older sisters, their little house was crowded and chaotic enough. They fought like cats and dogs sometimes, sure, but they were a tight- knit group. Francesca, 5 years older than him, Alessandra, 3 years older, and Gianna, 11 months older, were all fiercely protective of their baby brother, and their mother was hard- working but so loving towards them. She was gone more than any of them wanted, seemingly always at work, but there was never any doubt that she loved them.

Then, when Carmine was eleven, his Dad came back, and everything changed.

It started out slow. At first, his presence seemed like a good thing-- it meant his Momma wasn't quite as stressed about money all the time, and she could start working just the one job. He smelled funky, and Francesca whispered that it was alcohol, but he brought them presents sometimes, treats and fast food, and once in a while they even got to go to the movies.

He had a temper, though, and once it started slipping up everything happened so fast. To Carmine, who hadn't been paying all that much attention to his mother's relationship, it felt like the flip of a light switch. His Dad kept getting angry, and his Momma seemed a lot sadder all the time, and quiet.

Then there were the bruises. Then there was Francesca, who stood up to him one time and got a broken wrist for her trouble, and it kept getting worse, until a once happy, healthy family started disintegrating into something broken and fraught.

It wasn't fair, but they didn't leave, and then it was just too late.

Carmine doesn't remember a lot about the day his mother died-- he doesn't want to. His therapists have told him it might come back in bits and pieces, and sometimes it does. Sometimes he has these bloody dreams that he's pretty sure are memories, but mostly he remembers the foggy, drug- hazy month he spent hospitalized after it all happened. One thing he does know is that he's pretty good at compartmentalizing under pressure, shoving feelings and panic both aside in order to focus on what needs to be done, and that ability is what eventually lead him down the path of healthcare-- though it took him a couple of years after high school to find a direction.

Carmine has always been a bit of a flighty person, ready to go wherever the wind takes him and do whatever captivates his attention for more than five minutes at a time. Outwardly, he's exuberant, excitable, carefree and extroverted, a truly bubbly happy- go- lucky person under most circumstances despite the trauma that's helped to form who he is. At a glance, you wouldn't think he was someone that has a hard time connecting with people, and although he tends to accumulate friends wherever he goes, he struggles to form deep connections, particularly romantic relationships. He can come across as a sweet, slightly airheaded tender person, and it's not completely unfounded but part of that is a defense mechanism. He craves control, right down to what everyone else thinks of him.

Medication keeps his ADHD from ruling his life, but obviously it doesn't wash the symptoms away entirely. He's always been consumed by a variety of hyperfixations and interests that take over his life for a while and then fizzle away, sometimes to be circled back to, sometimes not. He enjoys traveling, and loves changes of scenery, and the idea of moving was an attractive one. At first it felt like it was a hard call to put any distance between himself, his sisters and the city he grew up in, but a friend of his from college lived in a seemingly idyllic town and in the end the decision to move came easily. So he packed up and found himself in Hemlock Springs, excited for all of the potential that came along with making a life somewhere new.

He works 3 12- hr shifts a week, 7pm- 7:30 am, and then has 4 days off. His wardrobe largely consists of pink and yellow, lots of shirts with funny sayings or random patterns and prints. He makes time to go on daily runs with his dog, a big, white standard poodle named Tulip, and on his days off from work he tends to stay busy. He's a very high energy person and gets stressed out if his life isn't scheduled down to the minute in his flashy planner.