#but you know my brain is always cray

[orion-nottson]

devil’s in the details | tfp!megatron x reader

A/N: i have tfp megatron brain rot. like i know he’s cray cray and deluded, but literally so am i we’re made for each other he’s mine

also this obvi deviates from canon, bc there is no way on god’s green earth that dreadwing and starscream could coexist semi-peacefully.

also, please be warned that i haven’t written transformers fanfic since i was like 14 💀💀 fought for my LIFE with the terminology (had to check my old WATTPAD stories to find some vocab 💀)

summary: lord megatron propositions you. it’s a rather bold request.

content: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, femme!cybertronian!reader, seeker!reader, sticky sexual interfacing, breeding kink, wee lil bit of choking, technically boss/employee relationship, power dynamic (it gets semi-resolved), implied past relationship/thought unrequited love, average decepticon emotional constipation, business arrangement procreation

word count: 6,367

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The Decepticon warship lingers somewhere over the southern pole of Earth, resulting in a dramatic decrease in temperature, even with the efficiency of Cybertronian technology. You shift your wings for the umpteenth time, armor plates releasing air to alleviate the discomforting chill that’s started to bother you. Of course, it was far from being so cold that you needed to worry about your core temperature, but you are a Seeker from Vos, and Vos was always warm.

The thought makes your wings tremble again, so you hurry yourself to your quarters with a bit more haste.

It wouldn’t suddenly be warm and tropical, but at least you’d be able to curl up and shiver in privacy. Recharge sounds particularly nice too, considering you’ve been up for several cycles trying to appease Lord Megatron’s endless demands. Inwardly, you roll your optics— There seems to be nothing you can do that would satisfy him.

The corridor finally breaks into the wing that houses Decepticon high command, where yours and your fellow officers reside. Your room is down almost the entire expanse of the hall, the turn right before where Megatron’s personal habsuite lies. From where you’re walking, you can spot the sleek, black metal door. A chill runs up your back struts, and your processor convinces you it’s from the icy cold that’s overtaken the Nemesis.

“Curse this inhospitable, organic planet.” Muttering to yourself dissuades you from also blaming your Master, who was no help either, if you were to be honest. He could shove his “not wanting to expend precious Energon on unnecessary heating” decree up his tail pipe.

You resign yourself to some rather cold nights for the foreseeable future. Perhaps... If you played your cards right, as the humans say, you could convince Soundwave to pilot the ship north. Maybe somewhere near Hawaii...

A sharp, gravelly voice from behind you calls your name, and you spin around to see your Lord and Master a ways down the corridor from you. Immediately bringing yourself to attention, you straighten your back struts and bow politely.

“My liege.” You say, thanking Primus you’ve become so accustomed to Megatron’s thunderous shouts that you no longer jump, let alone flinch, when they occur. The silver mech strides up to you easily, displaying all the strength of a warrior in the confidence of his steps.

“Retiring to your quarters?” He asks austerely, as if he’s ever concerned himself with your whereabouts, let alone personal routine. Unease creeps up on you, so you shift on the thrusters of your peds and cross your servos over your chassis. Wings fluttering, you reply slowly, “Well, yes.”

“Allow me to accompany you there.” The silver mech says brightly, and it’s such an absurdly peculiar request for both the mech saying it and the situation at hand. You instinctively snort a laugh.

“I do believe I know the way to my own habsuite, my Lord.” You say before you can stop the words from coming out, and immediately regret them once they do. You meet Megatron’s hard stare sheepishly, wings dropping timorously. Forgetting your place in the grand scheme of things is not wise amongst the Decepticon ranks.

To your utter shock, you’re not met with a vicious reprimand and instead Megatron grins— this wickedly suave thing— and purrs, “Humor me.”

And all you can say is, “Of course.”

Megatron hums appreciatively, brushing past you as he takes the lead, like he always does. You step in time behind him, nearly colliding into his back struts when he suddenly halts, and you stumble backwards a few steps. The looming mech pivots, glancing down at you with a quizzical expression in his glowing optics.

“Seekers are a rare breed, yes?” Lord Megatron asks, and whatever game he’s begun to play with you genuinely stumps any reasoning you attempt. Opening your mouth, your optics dart over his face, trying to decode whatever message your Master is sending and coming up empty. 

“Er... Yes, my liege? Even before the war, Vos was not a populous city-state. There are probably... even less now.” You reply cautiously, becoming very put off as Megatron takes a step towards you. He looks as impassive as ever, though you’re beginning to see a very curious appraising expression overtaking his faceplates. It begins with the upcurve of his mouth, derma pulled into the most wolfish grin you’ve ever seen on the mech.

Utterly bizarre. Your processors want to reset because this Megatron is starting to look like the studly gladiator of Kaon you’d hear be lasciviously giggled about, not the ruthless, merciless tyrant he’s supposed to be.

“I have a rather... avant-garde proposition for you, my most loyal Seeker.” Megatron purrs, his servos clasped easily behind him as you’ve seen him too many times before, often when he schemes. He’s also talking to you as if this is casual, expected business of him; matter-of-fact and cordial, with his usual cool drawl.

Before you can reply, Megatron turns sharply once more and begins walking down the corridor, stopping after a few steps when he realizes you hadn’t started with him. He turns his helm to look back at you, this time there’s this strangely unreadable expression on his faceplates.

“Follow me.” He says simply, and without a second thought, you do.

Even though you’re a Seeker with naturally long legs, his pedsteps are even longer strides, so you have to exert some effort in keeping up with Megatron. It adds to the growing franticness that’s begun to bubble up inside your chassis. 

While not exactly fear, though that’s certainly part of it, you’ve been a Decepticon and aboard the Nemesis under Megatron’s direct command long enough to know that when he becomes cryptic, it means trouble. Or at least a command that you’d rather not be the one to deal with. Bluntly asking what the frag he’s on about wouldn’t be the best course of action, but you know that he likes you enough not to offline you immediately if you did.

So you do.

“My Lord, what exactly are you asking of me?” You inquire, noting with slight abject horror as Megatron approaches the door to your quarters and types in your lock code with ease. Of course, he is the leader after all. Instead of answering your question, he makes you feel even more uneasy by throwing you a mysteriously sultry look and quipping, “Let me have you if only for a breem. Or longer should I entertain you.”

You catch the flash of his ruby optics, their intentions indiscernible, and then he disappears into your habsuite like it’s his own.

There’s something to it, an itch of a thought that’s begun to decipher the puzzle and put together the pieces. Lately, Megatron has been far more... involved with you, more eager at your presence, and it was blatantly obvious that he grew quite miffed when others got too close. It was no secret to anyone— From Soundwave and Starscream to a lowly technician— that Megatron had an optic for you (many did, frankly) and thus he was quite possessive of your wiles and charms as well.

This line of thought leads you to step into your room, slowly and evenly as if it’s unmarked territory and not the quarters that were assigned to you millennia ago.

“Lord Megatron...” You trail off, catching his stare just as he sets your old null ray back on your weapons rack, where most of your old, dismantled, and prized tools are located. Your null ray had been a favorite, until some blasted Autobot blew out the important bits that kept it working. That had stung, and even eons later you still curse that specific Autobot to the Pits.

Megatron flexes his claws, and with a flourish he clasps his servos behind him once again. His red optics scan the entirety of your quarters, lingering on your berth until they come back to rest on you. His gaze is equal parts unnerving and fascinating, as if he’s deconstructing you armor by armor, stripping you down until he’s watched your spark pulse.

His optics, like twin red suns, center you at their universes, and you feel oddly... flattered at their amorous disposition.

“It is no secret that I have watched you for some time.” Megatron starts, tilting his helm as he becomes pensive. You nod dumbly, hardly processing a word he’s saying. Megatron takes a single step towards you, looming like a shadow. In the dim lighting of your room, his silver armor catches all the chiaroscuro, his violet accents hued to black. Only his glowing, fiery optics remain bright. He continues.

“I admit,—” Megatron drawls your name deliciously, “— That I have found myself... captivated by your beauty. Entranced by your prowess, both in battle and mind.”

“I...” Your vents hitch, wings shivering at the praise. Blinking rapidly to ensure this isn’t some monumentally vivid dream, you clear your intake and say, “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, my Lord.”

Megatron laughs, that slight chuckle that sounds halfway between his engines roaring and something genuine that comes from the spark. The silver mech’s rolls his shoulders, armor hissing as it releases air. Wildly, he confesses something you never would have expected from him, “I believe myself bewitched.”

His servos have clasped themselves into fists at his sides, and briefly you wonder if he’s angry with you, then his entire frame relaxes like he’s decompressing after a long spar with Dreadwing.

“Tell me, my little Seeker, why have you denied yourself of me for so long?” Megatron asks it like a tease, like he’s some boon to be revered or a sacred sword to be wielded. Heat rises beneath your armor plating, and your processors race kilometers a nanosecond to find a suitable answer. Or at least one that doesn’t make you sound like some lovesick femmeling.

You couldn’t lie and say you had no... feelings for your Master, who was as handsome and dark as he was powerful and cunning. Megatron was once a gladiator of Kaon, and gladiators on Cybertron were what you had often admired, marveling at their strength, drive, and raw spark. Megatron had been no different, though you also found his commanding presence and impressive intellect to be even more attractive.

That was really why you’d joined the Decepticon cause all those millennia ago; Drawn to your Master’s fight to bring equality to the rigid castes and to seize control of the Energon supply to better disperse it by his charismatic allure.

And somehow, Megatron knew all of this.

“It would have been insubordination if I acted upon my... desires.” You reply, crossing your arms over your ample chassis with a shrug. Megatron matches your collected temperament with a hum, staring down at you with unreadable red optics.

“Indeed. Though I wish you’d had disobeyed, my little Seeker.” Megatron purrs, taking a step towards you that closes the space between your frames and boxes you in. His EM field magnifies the atmosphere around you, tingling at the periphery of yours.

“M-My liege?” You gape, faceplates feeling hot as metal left in direct sunlight. He chuckles, and sinfully the tip of his glossa runs over his pointed denta. Your spark skips a beat, owlishly watching 

“If I had known sooner that you wanted me as direly as I did you, then this song and dance would have concluded vorns ago.” Megatron growls, optics flashing with not anger, but lust. He takes another step, and you’re speechless.

“That being said, I am patient. I have no qualms with how long we have waited, nor will I if you choose to wait longer.” One of the tyrant’s long, clawed digits clicks at the bottom of your chin, tilting your face upwards. His touch is delicate, like you’d break if he pushed too hard. Honestly, you probably would if he did. Part of you wants to see him try.

“What did you want to ask of me?” You whisper, optics fluttering until they stay half-lidded and dewy under the carnal scrutiny of your Lord. Megatron grins, a sliver of sharp denta flashing in the lowlights of your habsuite. He takes a final step towards you, a half-shuffle that does well to close the gap between your frames, the air warming from the work of your combined engines. You hope he feels the way your spark races, hope he feels the heat emanating from your core.

“Give me an heir, carry a sparkling of my code and stand beside me as my queen.” With each word, laden with desire until it shows in his optics that drip with lust, Megatron has you against the wall of your habsuite, one servo tracing the sleek edge of your wing.

It’s entirely intoxicating, and against your better judgment and all remaining reason— and mostly because you haven’t had a good, hard frag in ages— you moan.

It’s a soft, angelic sound that barely catches on the audials, but it makes Megatron grin like a shark. You gasp, affronted, optics flickering, “My liege!”

“Have I offended you?” He breathes, and suddenly his mouth is against your neck cables, each word leaving the softest of kisses on your Energon lines. Your resolve nearly crumbles entirely, each brush of his dermas like a shot of high grade to the systems. You sigh, vents hissing, and place one servo on his chassis. Beneath the broad expanse of silver armor, his engines rumble like thunder on the horizon. It makes you pulse with need.

“No.” You whisper, wanting to sing as Megatron kisses the slope of your jaw, then pecks the side of your mouth, agape with shock. He pulls back, the heat of him evaporating as soon as he’s once again standing at his full height. You tremble, not from the cold, but from his absence. 

It’s not something you’d ever given much thought about, your feelings towards your Lord and Master, but it’s something that’s come rushing back. All the suppressed thoughts, the dashed dreams, the impossible futures... They come back to you and leave you weak in the knee joints, cooling fans whirring from the memories of the fantasies you’d entertained when you’d had long midnights alone.

“What say you then?” Megatron’s stare is hard, unshaking and fully serious. He wants to have a sparkling with you, wants you to bear him an heir— He wants you as his queen and equal, to stand beside him and lead the Decepticon cause. The expression on his face is a cross between a wild animal, wanting to ravage you the nanosecond you say Yes, and the warlord with enough resolve and self-restraint to accept if you say No.

It’s all so much at once. Eons of time made up in just a single question. Details and technicalities will have to be conferred over later, as for now you’re content with the conditions as-is.

“Well... You are a handsome mech, my liege.” You reply, teasing him by placing a chaste kiss directly on the Decepticon insignia on his chassis. He doesn’t say anything, only his engine rumbles more audibly. You look up at him and salaciously imply with a coy smirk, “I do believe we’d make a fine clutch of sparklings.”

And then you find yourself swept up into his arms, back struts and wings pressed against the wall, your Lord’s hips slotted perfectly against yours. The more base urges inside you squeal, your Seeker coding nearly overtaking you and having you present to him like a turbofox in heat.

Not one to be outdone, Megatron quips, “And you are quite the striking femme— Shall I ravage you against the wall or your berth?”

You laugh, cut off only when Megatron captures your dermas in his, drowning you in the roughness of a mech starved of Energon. He kisses like he owns the practice and has made it an artform; Dragging your dermas with his, glossa invading your mouth, denta nipping dangerously close to sensitive nodes and wiring. You moan and gasp, coming to the realization that one of your servos grips his wrist and the other is flat against his chassis.

You shutter your optics, reveling in Megatron’s power and dominance, wanting so desperately for him to devour you. The warmth blossoms, spreading throughout your core until you feel charges pulse at your interface panels that have you whimpering.

After what feels like vorns, Megatron parts and your dermas unlock with a metallic pop. Megatron’s mouth ghosts over yours, and he hums as he repeats himself, “Berth or wall, little Seeker?”

“The berth, my liege.” You urge breathlessly, a delighted sound escaping you as Megatron heaves you from the wall and carries you to your desired destination. He isn’t gentle when he deposits you on your berth, doesn’t mind the wings, so you hiss when your back struts connect with the metal beneath you. Megatron manages to keep himself between the smooth metal of your thighs as he hitches one knee up onto the berth.

“I wonder,” Megatron stops to kiss you deeply once more, making your processors spin, “If this is an auspicious position for conception.”

A bite to the dermas stifles your wanton moan. Your Lord may not be fully aware of it yet, but each mention of being sparked, of bearing his heirs, has your more base urges spiraling out of control. While Vos was not populated by many Seekers, the need to breed is more hardwired into the programming than most other frame types. His words act like fuel to the fire.

“O-Oh— I can only hope.” You gasp, your whimpering cries smothered by Megatron’s dermas in yet another bruising, brusque kiss. This time, he lingers, slows down as if he savors the taste of you on his glossa. Your servos grip his shoulders, smoothing along his breadth before your pointed digits grip at the armor panels high on his back. Megatron responds most enjoyably, using one servo to anchor himself above you and the other to caress down your body.

His servo travels from the curve of your waist, talons scratching at your paint, down to the slope of your hip where it rests heavy and warm on the junction of your thigh. He teases the sharp point of his thumb digit on the transformation seam nearest your interface panels, causing you to arch your back struts like a cat. Megatron uses this opportunity to settle a servo on the low of your back struts, where he pinches at the sensitive nodes at the bases of your wings. That makes you cry out, your cooling fans whirring loudly as a charge builds up deep inside you. 

You’ve never been this close to an overload so quickly before, though you’ve had many sleepless nights built up to bring you to this moment. And Megatron proves his expertise in the berth, past rumors and gossip proven to hold more truth than you once thought. 

Your entire frame feels electrified, your lower body feels like it’s on fire, the heat centered gloriously on your interfacing parts. Particularly your valve and anterior node, which feel wet and pulse beneath the panel with each of your sparkbeats.

“You react so gratifyingly.” Megatron purrs, his gravelly drawl like fine high grade on the audials, uncharacteristically sweet and sensual. He glances down at your interface panels, where your glowing transfluid is beginning to seep out along the seams. With a devious grin, Megatron meets your gaze just as he presses his thumb digit to your overheated panel.

“Megatron!” You cry his name, forsaking honorifics, and nearly overloading on the spot. Almost unconsciously, you send a command and your valve panel slides open, revealing your weeping slit and throbbing anterior node. You cry out again when Megatron wastes no time and starts tight, small circles on the sensitive bundle of mesh wire and circuitry.

“Beautiful.” He hums, quickening his pace on your anterior node as he notices sparks fly as your charge builds. You grip his back, claws digging at his silver armor and leaving scratches in his already worn paint. Megatron leans in, steals your dermas in a kiss, keeps circling your wet node, and just as you see warnings for an imminent overload— He stops.

The charge doesn’t die, but it decreases to a staticky tingle, and you part from the kiss, scandalized that he’s prevented your overload. You gape at Megatron, giving him a glare that could rival the World Destroyer’s himself. He only offers you a sly look.

“My liege.” This time you growl the title past grit denta, bucking your hips against your Master’s still servo. He hums, your anger meaning nothing to him, though indulging you by brushing two digits along the transfluid-soaked mesh of your valve. You gasp, optics blowing wide as he pushes them in, mindful of his sharp claws, stretching you wonderfully.

There’s a slight burn at first, pain sensors sending alerts, alleviated as your frame adjusts to accommodate his thick talons. Megatron eases his digits back until they are almost out completely, then sinks them back in. Your knees come up, peds shaking as you hook them behind his back struts.

“Patience, my dear,” Megatron kisses your neck cables, “Is a virtue.”

And like he had your anterior node, he works your valve slowly, steadily building the charge that buzzes all the pleasure centers in your frame. Warnings for an overload screen your vision again, this time your optics flicker as it grows closer. Staccato vents escape your intake, fans skipping cycles and hitching, encouraging Megatron to go faster, digits plunging in and out of your valve with sopping, moist noises. The room smells like interface; the tinny tang of transfluid, the almost-burnt smell of metal-on-metal friction.

You moan, this time a long keen that crackles in your audials, and Megatron responds with the first pleasured sound you’ve heard from him: A low, throaty groan that he practically strangles in his intake like he doesn’t want it to escape.

“M-My liege, plea-please.” You whine, writhing, bucking your hips even as Megatron’s servo relinquishes your wings in order to still them. You sob, systems on the fritz as the charge crackles, your overload closing in due to Megatron’s working servo and digits. He laughs again, the breathy one that you adore, and surprisingly heeds your plea.

“I want you like this when you take my spike.” Megatron hisses, doubling his pace and making you scream. The wet squelch of your mesh grows louder, and with each thrust of his servo, his knuckle joint brushes your throbbing anterior node, whiting out your optics.

“I want you disheveled.” The tyrant presses close to you, tightening the cyclic thrusts of his digits, biting at the base of your neck cables. Your helm lolls to the side, voice crackling in constant whines as you squeeze your optics shut. He growls, sharp denta piercing an Energon line close to your shoulder armor, the pain mixing with pleasure and having you singing.

“I want you desperate.” Megatron snarls like an Earthen beast, the gruffness of his voice matching the hot stretch of your valve. Transfluid soaks the inner seams and mechanisms of your thighs, spilling onto your berth below. Megatron drags his dermas to yours, his glossa hot and heady as he shoves it in your mouth and dominates the kiss. You moan against him, gripping him tight and hearing the sound of metal screech as its torn.

The silver mech groans, low and rough, breaking the kiss and allowing his helm to fall besides yours. To the cables and wires of your neck, he leaves open-mouth kisses, condensation hot from his vents, then pulls himself up to your audials and whispers harshly:

“I want you as mine.”

The last word is punctuated by a hard push of his digits and his thumb squashing your anterior node, and your overload hits you like a system crash. You wail, wings fluttering and hitting the berth with metallic clangs as your body seizes, the charge overtaking your processors. Pleasure like molten lava consumes your frame, transfluid squirting out onto Megatron’s forearm like paint.

The overload lasts eons, like some supernova of a dying star. Your legs lock, armor plating shivering, wings hitched high and scraping against your berth.  Maybe this is what death is, you think illogically, Maybe I’ve joined with the Allspark.

“Beautiful.” Megatron breathes again, his optics glowing in awe, “Positively beautiful.”

It takes a click for your processor to compute what he said, then another for your optics to blink back on. Coolant tears leak out the corners, blurring your vision. Your mouth gapes, dermas damp with condensation, your cooling fans whirring in loud in your audials. The grip you have on Megatron loosens, servos slipping until they fall upon his shoulders.

The charge in your valve mesh and anterior node quivers and bounces, and you realize with a pleasant tremble that Megatron’s digits are still firmly inside you.

“Megatron.” You coo his name, “Megatron.”

He says yours back, like all you’ve done and are doing is exchanging designations in a routine meeting and it reminds you of a time when things were simpler between the two of you. It’s been eons since Megatron’s seen you the way his ruby red optics gaze upon you now, eons more since you’ve felt seen.

War has made you both volatile, too tough and too angry to do anything else but fight, and fight some more. But here, in the privacy of your berth, blanketed by the secrecy of darkness: War can’t touch you. Nothing can.

“How I have yearned for you...” Megatron cups your faceplates, his servo cool against your overheated frame. You smile, still hazy from your overload and the lingering sensation of his other servo very much connected carnally to you, feeling like you’ve overdone yourself on too much high grade. 

A switch flips inside you, the one that reminds you’re no fainting femme, but one that asks and will take regardless. You are a Seeker, after all— It’s in your code to want offspring.

“Give me a sparkling, my Lord.” Even though your voice wavers, it still sounds like an immutable command. The contemplative look on Megatron’s face morphs into the devilish one, and he snarls, removing his digits from your core. A thin line of gooey transfluid stretches between you and his servo, until Megatron brings it to his mouth and his glossa licks along the length of his digits. His optics narrow in as he hums.

“You presume you can command me.” And yet he obeys again, his interface panel unlatching with a hiss. His spike emerges, a long, thick one that fills in sections, ribbed along its length. Glowing transfluid oozes in droplets from its tip, rolling down the underside of his spike. Your jaw drops, both in want and slight alarm— Megatron is a large mech, you should have better anticipated a large spike.

“Know this, dearest: I will take you, ruin you, fill you up until my code takes.” Megatron promises, lining his bobbing spike up with your throbbing valve. He then grabs your hips, propping them up for a better angle. You quiver, writhing on your berth and bracing your servos on his forearms. His armor is hot under your touch, and your claws dig into the smooth of his paint. Then you match his stare, licking your dermas.

“Frag me like you mean it.”

Megatron suddenly thrusts his spike into you and you wail, unforgiving of your smaller stature. The delicate mesh and sensitive wires give and mold around the hot rod of his pulsing length, forming a slick suction around your lover. He groans, easing back then thrusting in with earnest. Your thighs tremble as you take him, each rimmed circlet of his spike passing into you, dragging deliciously on your valve’s walls.

It’s a tight fight, even with being loosened by Megatron’s thick digits. The transformation seams on your hips and thighs stretch, soft whirs and clicks as your frame adjusts to take him. He’s the biggest you’ve ever had, and the strongest too. The power in his hips drives you up the berth, and he pulls you back down.

You can’t meet his thrusts, but you try and buck your hips in time with him, erratic at first. Megatron’s servos are locked on you, guiding you when your movements skip or miss. All the pleasure centers in your frame are alight, charges sparking and fritzing along your circuitry. Another overload builds, a hot, deep bubbling in your core.

With each thrust of his spike, your valve squelches, the mesh slick and hot with transfluid. More drips down your legs, your aft, onto the berth, leaving everything tacky. Megatron hits a particularly sensitive node deep inside you, one you didn’t even know was there, and you keen. Coolant tears prick at your vision again, escaping the corners and rolling off your faceplates. 

“How badly do you want it?” Megatron seethes, and you could mistake his lust for anger. He seizes your neck cables, dangerous talons threatening Energon lines, as he demands, “How badly do you want me?”

“Desperately.” You wheeze, optics whiting out as Megatron squeezes your neck cables just so as he gives you a series of particularly rough thrusts. Your peds tighten on his back, urging him deeper. Your Master vents, harsh and hot, his engine rumbling loud in his chassis.

“You will look...” Megatron chokes on a groan,”... Excellent with a trine at your hip.”

That makes you whine, Seeker coding squealing and preening at the thought. A trine. Three little sparklings just like their carrier. You’d delight in carrying them in your gestation chamber, wanting to see yourself change and swell to accommodate them.

“I want... I want,” Your voice cuts out, broken by a sob, and you can only manage a tight, “I want that!”

“Good.” Megatron pistons his hips like a jackhammer, his rhythm not breaking once. Powerful thrusts meet the wet heat of your core, the tops of his thigh armor clanking loudly against your legs. The overload warnings start appearing once again. Megatron hisses when your valve tightens around his length, and it prompts him to pick up the pace.

“You are so pretty.” He growls, leaning in to recapture your dermas with his. As he kisses, he doubles his speed and the strength behind it. You moan and sob into his mouth, servos gripping him by the back of the helm. His glossa battles with yours, his sharp denta nicking you more than once. Then he switches to kissing you deeply, soulfully, like he’s found salvation in your dermas.

It’s as you’re so viscerally connected to Megatron that the heat in your core reaches a boiling point, the slow-building electricity coming to its peak. Your valve walls spasm, the giving mesh convulsing in the telltale sign of your overload on the horizon.

Somehow accomplishing it, Megatron kisses you deeper, his faceplates flush and hot against yours. A particularly hard grind of his spike on the sensitive nodes of your valve has you gasping into the silver mech’s mouth. Your optics squeeze shut, you feel like your core is about to explode with heat—

Your second overload hits, just as spectacular and wonderful as the first. Electrified charges bounce between the mesh of your valve and Megatron’s throbbing spike, transfluid soaking him and yourself once again. It’s only after your audials tingle that you realize you’ve screamed loudly enough to reset them. Your systems crash, processors overheated and cooling fans hitching and trembling. With a hiss and a long grunt, Megatron follows you over the edge as well.

Warmth blooms in your core, pleasure nodes and receptors picking up the hot liquid feel of Megatron’s transfluid deep inside you. It comes out in spurts, and he rides his overload by continuing to push into you. As your optics come back online, you catch him hunching over you, ceasing his thrusts in favor of pressing as close as he can, spike still weeping transfluid and coating your inside walls.

Megatron hisses and groans, his frame shivering just once as he finishes, lazily bucking his hips thrice to empty himself completely. He doesn’t disengage his spike, leaving it to soften in your overworked valve. You can’t feel your peds, not after the overload you just experienced, and your entire frame shudders when he nips at your neck cables once again.

For a while, he hovers above you, his EM field embracing your frame. Softly, your servos caress his upper back struts, the tips of your digits dancing along his seams. His servos finally release your hips, revealing he’s left shallow dents in your armor. No matter, you’d wear them proudly. 

“Do you have fiber cloths in your refresher?” Megatron asks, breaking the comfortable silence, his vocal processor crackling only slightly. A twitch of the helm is the best “Yes” you can offer, and brutally Megatron parts from you, drawing a soft whimper as his spike and warmth leave you. The thought of sliding your interface panel back on crosses your mind, but your anterior node and valve are still throbbing so tenderly you can’t will yourself to do it.

You hadn’t realized you closed your optics until Megatron’s approaching pedsteps makes you open them again. He stands before your sprawled, ruined frame, a sheer fiber cloth in his servo, reaching to clean you. Silently, he wipes up the glowing transfluid that’s stained your berth, then moves to clean what’s left on your body.

For a long few moments, the sounds of your cooling fans cycling down, wings softly scraping on your berth, and Megatron’s movements fill your habsuite. At some point, you hear the distinct click of Megatron’s interface panel closing and you tilt your helm up to see him putting his spike away. Also distinctly, the slight burn of soreness as Megatron wipes your exposed valve of excess transfluid.

You’d need to wash regardless, but it’s the thought that counts.

“That was...” And you have no words. Your voice sounds distant and far away, like you’re listening to yourself whisper from miles away. Megatron hums to fill your silence, then you hear the muffled sound of the cloth being discarded somewhere in your room.

“May I join you for the night?” Your Lord’s question is far more polite than it needs to be, considering the circumstances, but it’s 

“Of course.” Your answer is quick and sure, marked by the tremendous effort you put in to roll onto your side, even though you still can’t quite feel your legs. You watch Megatron around your berth and sit at your side. He stretches, silver armor plates shifting and whirring back into place, the length of his back struts revealing his hidden Energon lines.

Then he swings his peds up and lays beside you like it’s the most normal action he’s ever done. Though you do have to scoot over until your wings stick out past the edge.

“I would like for this to be a repeated venture,” Megatron teases after he settles himself, “And if you will accept, for this to be continued past a successful newspark creation.”

He glances at you out the corner of his optic, its glow dimmed. You smile.

He’s never been one for grand romantic gestures, never one to speak about softer, kinder things like “love” or “sparkbonding”. It’s unbecoming of him, the Leader of the Decepticons, former gladiator of Kaon, dark Lord and powerful Master. You don’t know if he’d ever pose the actual question, or if it will remain as nebulous, vague riddles and coded phrases for you to decipher and analyze. It isn’t in Lord Megatron’s making to be tender— At least not in the explicit regards.

“I want nothing less for the sire of my offspring.” You reply, your frame curling around the curve of his chassis, servo finding the same spot it always had: Right above his insignia, above his spark. His engine rumbles evenly, the steady drumming could bring you to power down, though you’re kept awake by the pleasant ache between your legs, the chill of the Nemesis, and the pride in bearing your Lord an heir. 

~ * ~ * ~

epilogue

Your berth is too small, much too small, for two Cybertronians attempting to recharge upon it. Megatron keeps an arm wrapped under and around you to prevent you from falling off, your frame halfway atop his. One of your servos rests under your helm, the other lazily traces invisible shapes on his broad chassis. Both of your EM fields mingle, the waves pulsing to each other in rhythm.

Earthen hours have passed since your coupling, and though you’re tired, you find yourself unable to slip into recharge.

“My Lord?” You catch his attention, Megatron optics flickering back as he pulls himself from the onset of recharge. Part of you regrets keeping him awake— Primus only knows how many sleepless nights your leader subjects himself to— and the other part of you quietly marvels at how he was nearly dozing in your arms. What show of trust is as great as that?

“If I am to carry, this means the Decepticon cause loses one of its strongest warriors—” You sigh happily as the warlord shifts so that his servo rubs your wings, tenderly caressing sensitive transformation seams and Energon lines. What more you wanted to say dies on your glossa, too caught up in the tender display of affection your Lord gives you.

“A temporary hindrance.” Megatron rumbles, shuttering his optics once again and stating, “The Decepticons will prevail.”

It falls quiet, fully so for a handful of clicks until you pipe up again.

“... And, we will need protoforms. And transitionary metals and alloys. And start the process of distilling Energon into low-grade, sparkling-safe—”

Megatron silences you with a deep kiss, one that has you purring in delight and cupping his faceplates. He lingers on your dermas for a few beats, his EM field heavy and warm on yours, lulling you closer to recharge. Megatron parts, settling down on his back struts, his frame creaking and hissing air as he relaxes. Then he sighs:

“We will discuss technicalities in the morning.”

[sturniololoco]

i can you do a little sister sturniolo fic where she was struggling with anxiety like a lot and she has a panic attack about something and matt helps her through it and lets her sleep in his bed?

Nervous

Sturniolo Little sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets (mainly Matt)

warnings: panic attack

SLS/N’s POV

“The cause of this reaction is due to a…they-Fuck.” I say, throwing my note cards down onto my desk and sinking down into my carpet.

I was practicing what I was going to say for my big biology presentation tomorrow, but I just keep getting more and more nervous by the second.

Your gunna screw up your words, the class is gunna laugh at you, your gunna fail-

All these thoughts kept circulating through my brain, causing my breathing to become short, as if my lungs wouldn’t fill all the way up with air.

Then the tears come.

Your gunna trip and fall, then everyone is gunna talk about you, then your gunna cray in front of the whole class, the your gunna fail-

My brain wouldn’t stop thinking about all the worst possible things that could go wrong.

I picked up my note cards with shaking hands and began to read them aloud, desperately trying to get my mind off tomorrow.

“This c-chemical reaction…due… change…” But it didn’t work. It just got me even more worked up, and I was now practically sobbing into my hands on the floor.

-

I must not have noticed how loud I was being, or the door getting pushed open.

Someone was kneeling in front of me talking, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying over the sound of my own panic. But I finally recognized the face.

Matt.

I immediately crumple into his arms. He instinctively wraps his arms around my limp body, rubbing me softly.

“M-make it s-stop, please make i-it stop!” I sob into his chest, still trembling and trying to get myself together. “Hey, hey, hey, your okay, your fine. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere kiddo, I promise.”

he keeps whispering soft words into my ears until I’m just crying, no longer hyperventilating.

“Shh, deep breaths. Good girl, keep doing that.” Matt exaggerates his breathing for me to copy. I do my best but they still come out shaky.

“Why don’t we get you outta here and you can come lay with me. Hmm? How does that sound, sweetheart?” He asks me.

I nod, and he scoops me up into his arms and walks me to his room.

Matt pulls the covers down, and lays me on his bed, moving his stuffed pug to his night stand. He goes to his closet and throws on a sweatshirt before Turing off the lights and laying down beside me.

He pulls me closer to him, and I rest me tear stained face in the crook of his neck. He rubs my back while he says,

“Your gunna do just fine tomorrow SLS/N, you got nothing to worry about.”

“but-but what if I fall, or mix up my words or fail?” I ask him, the trigger of my panic attack coming back, but he’s quick to reassure me.

“hey, listen to me. What does mom always say about school?”

“As long as you try your hardest..” I mumble back to him.

“That’s right. And everyone knows you’ve been trying your hardest, so no one’s gunna be mad, no one’s gunna laugh, and you obviously not gunna fail because you’ve got the biggest brain out of all the Sturniolo siblings!” He says cheerfully.

I think in what he said and realize, he’s right.

I snuggle in closer to my brother, while he keeps holding me tight and whispering soft reassurances in my ear.

I drift asleep, knowing that tomorrow is gunna be fine, just like Matt said it would.

“I love you kiddo.” Was the last thing I heard him say, before I fell asleep.

[cake-sugar-ice]

theres this one spiral i like to come backt o and its all great to watch when i wanna be all dum and edge (always hehe) but like I think its injected a kink in me about being used by my frinds

"tell your friends your kinks" is just so embarassing and hot to think about... like, just look at these. like omg its so cray because my friends are like... outside of me being dumb n fuckable

MAKE YOUR FRIENDS LAUGH MAKE YOUR FRIENDS CUM MAKE YOUR FRIENDS HORNY MAKE YOUR FRIENDS SMILE YOUR FRIENDS OWN YOU YOUR FRIENDS TRAIN YOU YOUR FRIENDS BRAINWASH YOU FRIENDS SIT ON YOU FRIENDS STEP ON YOU FRIENDS STRIP YOU DOWN FRIENDS STEAL YOUR CLOTHES FRIENDS STEAL YOUR BRAINS FRIENDS STEAL YOUR THOUGHTS FRIENDS STEAL YOUR SHAME FRIENDS STEAL YOUR WILL YOU OBEY YOUR FRIENDS YOU SERVE YOUR FRIENDS YOU LOVE YOUR FRIENDS FRIENDS SHOULD GROPE YOU FRIENDS SHOULD FUCK YOU FRIENDS SHOULD USE YOU FRIENDS SHOULD HUMILIATE YOU

the worst part is knowing how openly kinky my frirends are :P almost makes me jealius

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

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

Episode 3: Ray Goes Cray (SMUT)

Season 1 Masterlist

Click for vibes

*HOOOO, THIS IS A LONG CHAPTER. 31,000 words, mamacita! we're going straight in with some smut, and may I just say, I am quite proud of it. i was bored, sitting around my uni building, waiting for a VERY boring lecture, so...this...was born. 

Como siempre, mis amigos--as always--if you are too young for the nasty, DO NOT READ THIS. there is also a spicy bit in the middle, and fear not! Ray will also get his fun times soon ;)

also. fun fact that i did not know: cooper barnes (ray irl) was born in the same city as me :0 ...he's secretly english!

Anywho—¡Vamos!

"Taste so fucking good..."

(y/n) dozed peacefully, basking in the morning sun peaking through her curtains. It was early - she didn't know how early, but her foggy brain begged for a few more minutes. 

Dipping in and out of consciousness, she moaned softly, digging her chin into her feathery pillow as her skin warmed and prickled, feeling hazily heavenly. She couldn't remember another time when she'd woken up so peacefully in the morning--when the sanctuary of her bedroom made her feel so good... 

Were the sheets really so soft? Soft enough to make her feel like she was floating? Waves of subtle pleasure rolled through her body, spreading to the tips of her limbs and rolling in the back of her mind as she hugged a corner of the duvet. It was a little strange; for how cosily stifling the room felt, her bare body was exposed, stripped of any covers, making her twitch to pull them over her chest. 

"Such a sweet little thing..." 

She hummed at the whispering voice, swearing she was dreaming as she nuzzled her pillow more, begging her mind to fall asleep. The alarm clock hadn't rang yet, so she rightfully had those few minutes to herself - just her, the massive, soft bed, and whatever that good feeling was. 

She shifted slightly, rolling from her side to her back since her gut told her to. It murmured that she needed to widen her legs a little more, the warmth squeezing her flesh adding praises when she turned to jelly and relaxed. Her body seemed to move on its own like a marionette, utterly exposed, but that was okay - it felt too good to complain. 

A quiet moan fell from her lips, nothing more than a hum, and a curled fist scrubbed over her eyes in tandem with a hot thing. It licked up her leg--like the sheets brushed her inner thigh, making her jerk slightly, but then it was soothed. Heat settled into her core as her arms flopped beside her head, nude breasts heaving and painted in gold from the expansive windows. 

She loved the view, but she loved waking up to it more, squealing slightly as a jolt wracked her tummy. 

"God, you're soaked... Wanna fuckin' drink."

That made her eyebrows twitch; too much of a sensation in her core to be deemed normal. She hadn't had breakfast yet, yet she felt so full, like there was a pit in her empty stomach. The thirst was worse, craving something on her dry tongue as it wrapped around a scratchy whine. 

The fullness came and went - agonisingly slowly - yet left her hungering for more with an insatiable ache. 

It was a puzzle. A whirlwind of conflicting information, no matter how good it felt to lie there and question nothing. She had a scientist's brain, and something--the little grey cells at the back of her mind--said that the sun could never feel this good. 

It didn't treat her so gently, running from her collarbone, loitering on her tit, passing over her stomach and further. Slowly but surely, she came around, wondering if she was clutching at the last slips of a delightful dream when something nipped at her soft flesh before gently kissing somewhere in between. She never wanted to wake up if her mind could conjure such pleasure...

"Fuck, look at how you take me... Another, perhaps, sweet girl?" But the sun certainly didn't speak, and if it did, she doubted it would call her such names when it glowed so dazzlingly. 

Her eyes fluttered open, breaking the illusion of sleep as her senses exploded, noting that it was a bright, sunny day. She'd forgotten to close the drapes, so she rose at dawn. The laundry basket was full, so she'd have to put a load in the washing machine. Schwoz had texted her, so she'd have to see what the fuzzy little weirdo wanted. She could even see a V-shaped flock of birds flying past the mountain, telling her that a new day had begun. 

It was all very typical in the daily life superheroine, but something was missing. There were no arms around her waist, no warm lump for her leg to hook over, no nook to tuck her nose, and certainly no soft snores in her ear. No doofus. No Ray. 

So, what was that...good feeling?

Picking her heavy head up from the pillow, chin pressed into her clavicle in a very flattering position, she quirked an eyebrow at the thatch of chocolate hair poking from between her thighs. All she could see were two reddened ears peeking through the floof - no eyes, nose, or mouth. But goddamn, could she feel them...

"Doofus?..." she mumbled, watching his feverish bobbing through bleary eyes once she realised where he'd sneakily disappeared. 

"Yeah?" Ray asked casually, glancing up for the first time in an hour like it was the most natural thing in the world, regardless of whether his chin was slick from the mess at the apex of her thighs. 

His eyes were wide and innocent as if she'd interrupted a good book or TV show--as if he hadn't slipped under the duvet after waking up early, throwing it off their blazing bodies when he decided to have a little one-on-one time. Just him and his best girl, reacquainting each other while his wife got the sleep she deserved. 

"What are you doing?" 

"I was hungry..." he replied with a shrug, slightly muffled since he refused to remove his lips from her slick lips, licking lightly as she sighed. 

"Oh, God..." (y/n) gasped, not knowing if she was frustrated from how he woke her up to such an overwhelming feeling or if his tongue truly felt that good. 

Everything was so blurry, lines between reality and dreamland crossing until that scientist's brain couldn't make heads or tails of the world, but one thing was for sure - the pleasure was intense. Stronger than usual, wildly when he flicked her clit lightly. She cried out, her hand sluggishly finding his hair as he groaned at the sweetness pooling on his tastebuds. 

"So..." he continued, briefly pulling away to swallow and take a breather, "I cashed in a coupon."

"At six-thirty in the morning?" His wife retorted dryly, glancing at the clock to see that it was another early start because he thought with his cock, not his brain. She relaxed into the mattress, keeping her legs spread for him to resume his languid explorations, lapping at her fluttering hole. 

Whenever he wanted more to drink, he slid two fingers inside, surprising her at the little resistance and the wetness pouring out of her. He eagerly collected every drop on his tongue, groaning at the honeyed taste, and it made her think he'd been at it for a while, fucking her gently until her mind caught up with her trembling body. 

Those goddamn coupons, wrapped in several T-shirts and tucked into his suitcase for their flight home from Hawaii; Ray refused to leave them to go dusty on a shelf. No, he'd only used a handful and was eagerly waiting to cash them, not that he needed any more inspiration for their sex life. 

"Whenever, wherever you said," the man noted, having etched her promise onto his frontal lobe so they never stopped using them. He suckled on her clit, obsessed with how he could crook his fingers and make her writhe - his very own puppet - but it was the nectar he was after. 

A man couldn't live more than three days without climbing between her thighs, and he'd been quiet about it, settling below her without so much as a sound or accident. She slept longer than he had - who was his sweet girl to grumble?

"Okay, okay. But which one was it? The one where I can't sleep in?" (y/n) pouted moodily, yet didn't push him away. Her hand remained on his crown, encouraging him to keep doing whatever that thing was with his tongue as she brought the other to her breast, holding it gently, tweaking her nipple like he would if he wasn't busy. 

"No...overstimulation." The deep growl made her shudder, heightened by her fingers' sensation. He said it so casually, resuming his work like it was nothing, squeezing her thigh as he quickly picked up the pace. His digits plunged her cunt further, hungry for more now that she was awake and tempting him with her breathless moans and bratty remarks--fuck, her fingers in his hair. 

Seeing her sleeping and writhing was one thing - so fucking hot. She mewled in her sleep, bucked her hips like she was dreaming of having him in her pussy while he sucked the juices out of her, but nothing compared to how she called his name. His precious wife moaned his name under her breath when he slowly slid his thick ring finger inside her, bumping the cool metal against her folds as hers glinted in the sunlight. 

He could only imagine what raced through her mind as he flexed against the mattress. Still, he liked to think she dreamed of him above her, legs around his waist, nails digging into his back, and a Hawaiian sunset outside. He hoped to give her the same satisfaction in her imagination as he did now, grinding his weeping cock into the fitted sheet like he was back at the beach with her. 

That's how he got the idea for the coupons. Yet to see all that in real life, waking up with glowing skin and her half-lidded eyes, ordering him to service her like only she could - a man could go feral. 

"Overstimulation?" (y/n) gasped, whimpering when he squeezed her thigh a little tighter, too caught up in his thoughts to realise how she'd been toying with her tits and tugging on his scalp. 

"Yeah. A breakfast coupon, so I can get my fill of this pretty pussy," Ray smirked, licking his upper lip while calmly releasing her leg to reach for her smooth breast. He'd never lie to her, utterly besotted and softening as he felt its weight resting against his palm, thumb brushing over her nipple. 

His darling wife mewled and dropped her head back as the movement worked in tandem with his fingers, loudly fucking her needy cunt. He couldn't wait to fuck her out of her mind, having had much experience giving her two, three, or even four orgasms a night. But how many was her limit? How far could he go until she screamed, her throat raw, soaking the sheets? 

He wanted to find out--for science. Definitely for science. And maybe just to see his beloved wife fucked-out, wrecked, sweating, and jelly-like in their bed. 

"And I must say she knows how to feed a guy."

"Is that so?" (y/n) replied as calmly as she could muster, with his forearm jerking faster, plunging in and out between her thighs. She tried to keep her voice level, core clenching at the thought of him milking her for all she had. It sounded like a challenge, and Captain Man never backed down from those, camping with his mouth ready to collect as she squirmed. 

She felt it again--the sensitivity. Her head flinched to the side, cheek pressed into the pillow when the butt of his palm rubbed her clit, sending sparks along her spine. She never usually came so quickly, nor did it feel so intense, but Ray got her there, briefly leaning up to peck her neck, jaw, and lips as his leaking cock brushed her thigh. 

Fuck, she wanted it. 

"Yep! Made you cum twice before I even saw those gorgeous eyes of yours. That has to be a new record!" He gloated happily like he'd come first in a school race or beaten the smartest kid in class in a math test. She choked at the news, suddenly knowing why her cunt clenched so readily--why it wasn't gentle like a ripple in a pond as usual. 

He brought her to her third orgasm, having ripped the first two from her body while she dozed in the pleasure. No wonder she felt so good, lying there, letting him have his merry way as she came and came, giving him the honey he so desperately wanted while she twitched in her sleep. And it wasn't even seven AM yet...

"Raymond, I'm--I'm not a--a fucking Nintendo..." she gasped indignantly, hips jerking as he worked to bring her to completion again, remembering how she came so prettily for him earlier. But for someone so talkative, she arched her back and rocked her hips into his hand, pulling his face further into her pussy, among him smirk. Needy little girl.

Even in her sleep, she responded to his touch only, cumming with only a quick finger and kiss on her clit. He loved it, leaving her breast alone to sling a heavy arm over her stomach so he could savour the third. 

"But sweet girl...I play with you so well..." he remarked gently but oh-so cockily, mouth wide open with his tongue out and ready to catch her slick when she climaxed again. It wrung her out, a wave of intense pleasure erupting through her stomach as he groaned and slurped, loving how her slick spread to his wrist. 

She fought against his hold, gasping and swearing to God as his muscular arm kept her near his mouth, growling that he wasn't fucking finished drinking yet. He swallowed his fill, promising he could die then and there and go to his reward without regret, save that he didn't get to have one last drop. 

His fingers didn't slow, not even when she jerked and cried, shouting that it was too much, too soon, too fast, but he worked her through the sensitivity. Tears clung to her eyelashes, but she looked so damn pretty, eventually loosening her iron grip on his forearm when the painful sensitivity became burning pleasure--hotter than before. 

"Fuck--doofus--fuck me now?" She asked weakly, thinking she'd just about survive combustion if she had him inside her, craving the stretch of his thick cock carving her walls apart. His pace was torture, but she couldn't tell him to stop, suddenly feeling another climax in her stomach, slowly and steeply building. 

She rarely got four in one night - although it wasn't unheard of. For all his selfishness, Ray was a giver at heart, grinning into her folds as he slurped and sucked around his fingers, knowing he could beat his personal best. Usually, he paced her, spreading them out throughout the day or giving her breaks in between. 

But no; today, he wanted to truly break her--and it would be by his hand, even if his cock wept against the mattress. 

Unhurriedly and gently, he kissed her clit, murmuring praises to his second favourite girl as she provided such refreshment. His hips bucked when his wife moaned, thrashing wildly at the lewd sounds coming from her mouth and soaked pussy, unknowing if she wanted to cum again or push him away. But her arms were like noodles, limply resting by her side or on his head, taking without complaint, except that she wanted more. 

"You'll cum on my fingers and love it, pretty girl. I'm not fucking you," the man told her firmly, slapping her meaty thigh as (y/n) through her head back, whining childishly. It was so unlike her, but the thought of such a denial made her cry more than the bittersweet relief, wriggling her hips and stomping her foot into the springs in a small temper tantrum. 

"Pleeeeaaaseee? So fucking wet--just slide right in..."

Another slap landed on her flesh, tearing a choked moan from her swollen lips when her lover yanked his fingers from her tight hole at lightning speed, bringing them down on her abused cunt. Her entire body jerked, shocked by a jolt of violent pleasure surging from her clit and the sudden change as he reentered her body before he lost her fourth orgasm. 

"True..." he remarked smugly, drawing circles with the tip of his tongue as he settled down again, broad shoulders keeping her pinned legs spread for his feast. He wouldn't have any brattiness, crystal eyes glaring over the curve of her tummy as a warning - his coupon, his rules. 

It was like he'd never left, resuming his frenzied pace as she tugged on his brown hair, tears pooling in her ears as he chuckled. That tantrum didn't last long, her body melting into the bed to take whatever the fuck he gave her--and she'd be grateful. His cock would be nice, but having his pursed lips create a vacuum around her clit and his finger knuckle-deep in her pussy was good enough. 

"Shit, you were made for this, weren't you?" Ray groaned, prodding a third finger at her entrance as she began to mellow, so slick his fingers barely provided any sweet friction. A wail left her as the extra digit slid in without issue, stretching her walls perfectly and coaxing more wetness onto his tongue. 

He marvelled at how she accommodated him when he leaned back to pant and admired her precious centre, velvet clinging to his hand, pulling him in. So fucking needy...she was so innocent and demure, outwardly pretending she was above such debauchery. Yet, she took half his hand like it was nothing, sobbing filth into her palm as a soft sheen dappled her skin. 

"Mm-hmm... So, fuck me. Fuck your wife," she challenged, rocking her hips toward him suggestively--daring him to say to hell with it all and use her pussy in its rawest form. And she knew his most profound weakness--of course, she did. 

His eyes clouded further - if possible - as she weakly cupped his cheek, ensuring she pressed her fourth finger into his skin so he could feel the smooth pinkish gold of her warmed ring. If their honeymoon taught her anything, he got off on his wife--how she was tied to him forever. Their vows, the intimacy, the domesticity, the idea of being a family made her husband feral. 

Ray would be a liar if he said he didn't think about it because who was he to ignore his wife's demands? He lived to serve her, and if she wanted his cock, she could have it--God knows he was aching to slip in, pound and paint her walls until it stuck. But before that, he just wanted to try something...

"Now, now, darlin'. How am I supposed to drink every last drop if I'm not down here waiting for it? 'M not wasting anything."

He grinned, sucking on one of her folds, pulling it into his mouth and nibbling--just to hear her squeal for his sadistic satisfaction. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, y'know..."

"You're such a d-dork," (y/n) gulped, continuously licking her lips between gulps of air, not needing to look to know he was laughing at his joke. The vibrations rolled with his tongue, lodging a groan in her throat, making her feet hover next to his ears--it almost felt too good. 

"I could stop if you want..."

"Fuck--don't you dare!" She growled, eyes breaking open when she frowned, too close now to stop. It would be fucking cruel to deprive her as she hung over the edge, waiting to topple over on his command--when his fingers hit that special spot again. 

They flexed inside her again, rotating slightly at a different angle as Ray beamed and pulled one leg over her shoulder. He didn't care if it ached, leaning it back to press his face into his happy place, unbothered if it funnily squished his nose. This oasis was heaven for a parched, six-foot-something, doofy man. 

"That's my girl." He smiled, returning to affectionately kiss and nuzzle her clit. As if he could leave such a treasure without giving her a little sugar, hand blurring as it mercilessly plunged into her pussy, sensing the first ripples of her end. "How close are you?"

"So fucking close--shit, I--I can't cum again, Ray--" she gasped, head jolting from side to side as her stomach clenched and spasmed, becoming impossibly tight. 

How could she forget who he was? Captain Man had a learned speed, moving faster than most and with such power. He relentlessly milked her for his benefit, getting off on her orgasms more than she did, but she didn't care. His heavy arm kept her still, allowing him space and time to curl those three fingers inside her as his hips shuffled against the mattress, rocking the bed. 

"Yes, you can," he groaned, forcing himself to keep his eyes open even as he fucked the bedsheets, pretending they were her cunt wrapped around him. "Give it to me, sweet girl. I want it...feel it coming." 

It hit her like a freight train, slamming hard enough to make her howl and scream at his word--like she'd ever cum without permission. Always his good girl. Her fists tightened, nearly shredding whatever cotton she could grab as he laughed into her pussy, delighted by the slobbery mess on his tongue, gulping everything down, shaking his flexing muscles through her walls. 

He briefly removed his fingers to lap at the source, humping the air when a gush streamed into his mouth, imprinting on his memory forever. Two fingers parted her lips, inspecting her quivering hole, remarking he could fuck her now, and she'd still fit like a second skin. But he wouldn't, staying on his stomach as his dark gaze studied his perfect wife - and the mess she'd made. 

"Too fucking good to me, sweet girl..." Ray praised her, pulling away momentarily to smooch her inner thigh and regain his breath. Her skin glowed in the morning light, sticky and searingly hot, but she looked beautiful, even if she could barely open her eyes. He loved her like this, too weak and tired to do anything, and it gave him the job he craved more than anything - to be the one who cared for her in this most vulnerable state. 

"And, goddamn, so sweet you are..." His arm stretched over her body until his fingertips brushed her lips, smearing her slick around them. Her mouth dropped open feebly, moaning softly when they pushed inside to share what gave him the fucking will to live before he pulled them away. 

Perhaps it made him greedy, but he wanted every drop to himself, licking at the trickle that ran down his wrist and forearm, sucking on each finger down to the last knuckle until his hand was clean. Four was a lot, yet as his beloved wife lay there, breathless, exhausted, and beautiful, a dastardly idea came into his mind. 

"...One more," he declared quietly, and much to (y/n)'s shock, gasping loudly, his fingers slipped into her cunt once more. 

She swore she couldn't do it three fingers full, again, and more sensitive than she'd ever been, an overwhelming pressure bubbling in her belly as he slowly pumped in and out. A single kiss was placed on her pubic mound, his head lazily resting on her shaking thigh as he toyed with her--as if he was experimenting, rubbing her clit like a kid who--couldn't--stop--touching--

"No, no--no, Ray, I can't--"

"Let me try, sweet girl. Come on, one last time..." he murmured, using his most soothing, velvetiest voice to ease her worries because he knew her limits. He knew when she'd had enough. He knew when to back off. She could leave that to him, and he'd take care of her. Always had, always would, so he curled his digits and renewed his efforts, going deeper and harder than before, if not as fast. 

A strangled shriek left her, shattering the peace of the early hours as a pillow soared through the air, landing halfway across the room. She thrashed, kicked, and screamed, pounding her fists beside his head before roughly yanking at his hair, nearly pulling out clumps. 

This was too good, feeling like a rocket was about to burst through her tummy, a different kind of pressure quivering in her core. Honestly, it frightened her a little. Something felt off - not a bad off, but it had never happened before, making her think something was wrong as her walls convulsed like crazy, untying a knot she didn't know was there. 

"Wait, Ray--I--I'm not--I'm gonna---fuck!" Before she could say anything else, push him away, or work out what had happened, the world went black - the only thing in her eyesight was a tiny white pinprick like when she turned off her grandma's TV. 

The last thing she heard was Ray's groan; it sounded like he was underwater as her body went limp, falling into the deepest, most comfortable sleep of her life in what could've been an eternity for all she knew. 

Between her thighs, the man fucked her through the hottest thing he'd seen in his life, mouth wide open, tongue arched over his bottom lip when she gushed onto his hand. Not a droplet, a trickle, or even a wave, but a waterfall of sickly sweet liquid dousing his face's lower half in what had to be more than a mouthful. It didn't stop, pouring out of her in jets, thoroughly soaking the bed below her, and (y/n) didn't even know. 

She'd fucking squirted. And it was hot. 

"Oh, fuuuuuuuck--" Ray sang his praises as he slurped whatever he could get, thinking that if sipping on her cunt was heaven, this was nirvana. He wished he'd recorded it, wanting to replay the moment over and over again when, to his utter surprise, she came out of nowhere, and the fifth time was the charm. 

In all his born days, he'd never made anyone squirt, for all his experience and past lovers, believing it was a pornographic myth, so to see his sweet girl turning into his personal fucking fountain...he'd never recover. It ruined him - honestly, truly, completely wrecked him, leaving the mighty hero gasping and pussy-drunk against the sheets as she lay there - seemingly lifeless, yet glowing. 

It took a moment to catch up with reality, swallowing and swallowing and swallowing without thought until he realised that his precious wife was motionless. Head back, arms bent beside her ears at an awkward angle, mouth propped open from that final scream. Thanks to his godly prowess, she was out for the count, dozing better than any sleeping pills could ever provide. 

"Sweet girl?" Ray called out gently, stroking and squeezing her thigh as he waited for a response. Nothing, not even a flutter of her eyelashes in recognition. 

"Pretty girl?" He tried again, gulping the honey on his tongue to speak louder, but still, she didn't move. 

"(y/n)?" This time, it was more like a whimper as he crawled up her body, careful not to trample her noodley limbs. Hovering over her body, his frame supported by a beefy pillar beside her temple, his knuckles dragged down her cheek, catching on her tacky skin, but he didn't notice. 

All he cared about was that he'd fucked his wife unconscious--perhaps fucked her too well. He kissed her forehead, bottom lip wobbling, tears lining his lashes when she didn't respond, and guilt pooled in his stomach. He'd wanted that last one--wanted to smash his record of getting five orgasms under his belt in less than an hour, but he'd gone too far. 

The only consolation was that he'd married a strong woman. A capable woman. A woman with super-regeneration, so he didn't lose himself in panic, streaking down the hall to get help. The last thing he wanted was to go find Schwoz and tell him that he accidentally broke his wife after fingering her too much. It would break his handyman, too. 

He'd never get over the shame, so he padded off to the bathroom, ensuring he left her comfortable with the quilt pulled up to her chin lest she get cold. Quickly soaking a rag in cold water and filling a small glass, he returned and left them on the bedside table before tucking himself into her side. 

Like a lost child, he nuzzled into her chest, chastely pecking the curve of her breast as he gazed up at her. Now, it was just a waiting game, endlessly praying that she'd wake up soon as he stiffened like a sardine. It didn't matter if they lay in grimy sheets, tired and dehydrated; he had to see those pretty eyes to put his mind at ease. 

So, he waited, and waited..until fifteen minutes had passed, never once moving or leaving his place by her side. 

"D--doofus?" A croaky voice creaked as its owner sank into the land of the living again, feeling like she'd been hit by a bus. 

(y/n) woke with a thudding in her core, heart, and head, yet for all her heaviness and exhaustion, she felt strangely...complete. Like an emptiness had been filled, soothing any complaint she had, and that's when it came flooding back to her. Rough fingers, deep growls, a pleasurable fullness as a brief torrent ravaged her thighs - a mythical sensation. 

"(y/n)?" Ray gasped, eyes darting up from where he'd been re-memorising every bump, freckle, dimple, stretch mark, and inch of cellulite on her body. To his delight, he saw a crinkled smile staring back, warming his heart when he realised that his precious wife had woken up - exhausted and delirious, but she was awake. At long last. 

He leapt onto his elbow, pulling the comforter entirely off her body, so he could check for injuries or some shit--like he'd just lay there and let her hurt. She was fine, reaching up to stroke her fingers through his bed-head, her arm aching like all hell. 

"You know I don't like it when you call me that... Sounds weird," the woman joked, nose wrinkling at how serious he sounded, unlike the carefree, lovable idiot she'd married. She didn't know what had happened, but she was sure it didn't warrant her yucky given name; she was too used to all those sickly pet names. 

"Shit, sorry, sweet girl, but you scared me."

"How?" She frowned, leaving his hair alone to thread her fingers through his, holding his hand since he clearly needed it. They were together in their bedroom, wrapped up in a post-orgasmic glow, so to see him trembling and on the verge of tears nearly made her cry in sympathy. Her poor doofus - he looked like a kicked puppy...

"Passing out on me like that. Thought I'd...broken my wife," he confessed quietly, pulling her wrist to his mouth so he could smooch her pulse point loudly--just glad that it still thrummed under his lips. 

He'd genuinely been afraid for a second, hearing her heartbeat but seeing no other signs of life, meaning those fifteen minutes were the longest of his life. What would he do without her? Knowing that he'd hurt her, even in the throes of passion, killed him and cut into his soul a little bit, but as he subconsciously drifted away, (y/n) pulled him back in. 

She pressed their bodies together, enjoying his bare skin on hers as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a long, slow, passionate kiss. While a little timid at first, Ray soon groaned into her mouth, submitting himself for her pleasure as she ran her tongue along the seam of his lips. Now, this felt good...

"What happened? I remember having the best damn orgasm of my life, and then everything went black." She glanced away briefly, hearing nothing but their ragged breaths once they pulled away, tentative but as intimate as always. 

"You ever squirted before, darlin'?" He asked quietly, smoothing his hand over her curves as her eyebrows knitted together. 

It almost made her recoil, putting something like that down to the job of a...night flower or someone similar. Of course, she'd read about it, but then again, it was confined to the trashy women's magazines, something her limited previous partners never had the talent or interest to achieve. 

"No..."

"Well, it's fucking hot." His boyish grin said everything, and her mouth dropped open, much like he had done, when she felt the wetness between her thighs, under her ass, seeped into the sheets. 

Fuck, she'd have to put them in with the next laundry load, but under his proud gaze, there was no room to be ashamed. It felt like an accomplishment, especially when she caught the slight sheen on his chin and chest, which certainly wasn't sweat. So, that would explain the peculiar but not unwelcome taste she'd found when kissing him. 

"Safe to say I won't need coffee after drinking from you this morning."

"That's...oddly sweet," the woman giggled, tilting her head back when her husband kissed her cheek and jaw, utterly besotted with the walking pin-up he'd scored. Of all the girls he'd loved before, and there'd been many, no one compared to her, not when she held him in her arms like he was born to be there. 

"Not half as sweet as you."

"Someone's trying to get lucky..." she teased, holding his face to her neck, enjoying the ticklish sensation when it dawned on her. She'd cum five times, but Ray? He'd not cum once, and that seemed highly unfair. 

"I can't feel my legs, but I'll suck your cock, doofus. Let you cum down my throat..."

"Um...that's okay." 

Four-Oh-Four, (y/n) not found. She blinked in surprise when her doofus, the world's horniest man, the man who seduced her and had her in his bed on their second day of dating, the man who fucked her every morning without fail, the man who'd just fingered her unconscious...had refused a blowjob. It just didn't make sense. 

He lived to see her on her knees. He'd die to have his tongue wrapped around his cock while he lied back and guided her movements. If he couldn't fill her pussy, she could be damn sure he'd drink every last drop. 

He just wasn't the type of guy to decline her eager affection, and it made her mad? Concerned? Offended? Disappointed? Maybe a mix of all four. 

"Okay, are you broken?" She blinked, gently pulling back on his hair until she saw his bashful expression. "'Cause I just offered to suck you off, and you turned it down. Are you even my doofus?"

"Yeah...I'm yours," Ray quickly nodded, strangely too shy to meet her eye. Still, he revelled in her love, not embarrassed to rub his cheek against her shoulder affectionately as he cast his gaze downward. "But, I, uh...took care of it."

(y/n) followed his stare, going down their bodies as he shuffled back a bit, revealing a distinct wet patch on the bed, and this time, it wasn't from her. 

She knew what she saw: a thick, pearly, sticky liquid clinging to the fitted sheet, right where he'd been jerking his cock to her quivering and moaning. His cock was flaccid, untouched yet fulfilled, with the slightest smear of cum on his inner thigh, but really, his pinks ears and cheeks gave it away. 

"Oh." Was all she said, blankly meeting his eyes again as her face warmed too, although hers was more from the power surge. Pride bloomed in her chest, feeling like she should shout from the rooftops that she'd made the great Captain Man cum early without touching his dick - the guy who could fuck for hours and still hold his nerve. Talk about pussy power - hers was fucking magical.

"Yeah," the man shrugged, slightly embarrassed when she chuckled, but it was worth it when she returned to dotting kisses over his face, placing a final one on the tip of his nose. 

If anything, she was flattered, knowing they had two mattress protectors underneath them for a reason. It was so he could flex his coupons all he wanted, and her honeymoon plan had worked; that had to be one of the steamiest sessions of their lives. 

"Guess it was hot, huh?" She smiled, closing her eyes when his head fell to the crook of her neck. They'd rest for a bit longer, just until their alarm clocks rang, and then some more. 

"Sweet girl...you have no idea."

~Swellview Academy for the Gifted~

It was another school day. A new morning, new lessons, and more wisdom for Ray and his sweet girl to impart to their young and impressionable pupils. 

To start things off nicely, (y/n) had planned a test for Mika, Miles, Bose, and Chapa - nothing huge, just a few notes to ensure they remembered the curriculum. It should've been easy, but nothing was ever straightforward in SWAG, which she and her doofus quickly learned when they gathered around in the classroom, ready to explain what the kids had to do. 

The couple stood at the front of the classroom, waiting for their students to settle down, but that was easier said than done. They watched tiredly, pacing slightly whilst Ray tapped a baseball bat against his palm as the kids rolled around on gym balls. It was funny seeing how they boinged around on their butts and tummies. Still, it was also pathetic, given that four soon-to-be professional heroes were currently being bested by some big bouncy balls. 

"Doofus?"

"Yeah, darlin'?" Ray hummed as he frowned at the ridiculous sight of pupils, turning to wrap an arm around her shoulders and brush his lips against her forehead. 

"You look handsome today..." (y/n) cooed as she raked a hand down his front, feeling his stiff muscles under her fingers. 

He smiled at that, feeling his core clench at her touch and flirty tone, glad he had something to make him happy since his team was failing so miserably. Her eyes couldn't leave his body, thinking he looked unbelievably hot in his tight T-shirt, a simple thing, yet it made her thirsty like they hadn't...all week. For some reason, she felt extra touchy today, making even his grumpiness seem hot. 

"I don't look handsome every day?" He flirted back, trailing his hand down her arm as she gave him what Henry always called her "goo-goo eyes". God, how many times he had to leave the room because he saw that look...

"Of course, but..." she trailed off, not-so-subtly glancing from his lips to his belt buckle as Ray pushed his chest out. Admittedly, they'd gotten out of bed a little earlier than morning to set up this test, so affection was few and far between, but, usually, he was the flirtatious one, not that he was complaining. 

"Are we doing anything after this class?"

"I don't think so..." he grinned, catching her drift when she waggled her eyebrows suggestively, even as the kids flailed and groaned. She was unusually needy, knowing it had been a long few weeks, with opportunities for alone time few and far between. It wasn't easy for lie-ins when four kids were pounding on the door at eight-thirty every morning. 

"Why do you wanna f--"

"Ah!" His lips, curled in a smirk at first, twisted into a frown when a familiarly scarlet bolt of electricity zipped past (y/n)'s body, narrowly missing her arm if it wasn't for the pearlescent glow in her eyes. 

Sensing danger before it hit, she bowed her back and arched into her husband to avoid getting hurt. His arms wrapped around her, keeping her pressed against his rugged chest as he glared at Chapa, who obviously didn't mean to fry her teacher. Still, she couldn't control a little current escaping her fingers as she stretched over the squishy ball. 

Retirement didn't sound so bad right now - what did a man have to do to get a moment's peace to flirt with his wife?

"All right, that's enough!" Ray growled, turning off a digital timer on the board since the test was now useless. Everything was ruined, and hearing (y/n)'s little gasp when she dodged the jolt was the last straw. He really was Mr. Grumpy Pants today...

"How'd we do?" Bose asked breathlessly as they stopped wriggling around, although Chapa flopped onto the floor with a grunt. The couple looked at them with a cringing disdain, wondering where they went so wrong because this was just the beginning - so very simple. 

"Poorly!" the hero replied gruffly, which wasn't the best thing for poor Mike to hear. She wasn't one to fail tests, something (y/n) related to, and instantly felt uncomfortable knowing they'd fail because she needed academic success as personal validation.

"Can we practice tonight and retake this test tomorrow?" She begged, appealing to the heroine's kindness and mercy since she knew that if anyone could master the art of bouncy-ball-sitting, it was her. Smashing the competition was what she did. 

"This wasn't even the test! We just thought it would be fun if you guys sat bouncing for a while!" (y/n) sighed and scrubbed her face with an open palm, feeling her lust fade away, wondering where her instructions went so wrong. Of course, she'd planned something much more complicated to test their heroic abilities - what would bouncy balls do?

"Why don't you sit bouncing if you think it's so easy?" Chapa sneered, feeling humiliated that she'd bellyflopped the floor after floundering like a fish. And all because they wanted to have fun? She laughed at that, giving the adults her usual sulky pout. 

But Ray -shockingly- didn't rise to her challenge, scrunching his nose before pulling the remote control from his pocket. He blasted each gym ball, turning them to ash and cinder so the kids fell against the tiles again now that the fun was over. He was such a killjoy but didn't dwell on their failure, waltzing to the lectern to begin his lecture, yet not realising how his wife watched his every move with catlike eyes. 

"The real test is about to begin..." he revealed, and they quickly got to their feet, eager to please if he gave them the chance. 

"Okay, who can tell us the easiest crime to commit?" (y/n) asked, rubbing elbows with her doofus, the slightest touch making her tummy flutter. She wasn't usually so needy, but there was something about him today... But she had to focus on her teaching, giving the children one of her bright, warm smiles to show them that she didn't care if they got it wrong - she just wanted their best. 

"Jaywalking!" 

"Jay-dancing!" Mike and Bose suggested with rapid-fire enthusiasm. Chapa, however, wasn't so chirpy, standing there with her arms crossed as Miles took his time--like always. 

"Stealing my phone!"

"White-collar crime. Rarely prosecuted," the boy retorted, knowing a strange amount of real-world issues for someone so young. His voice was so dry, but he was confident, knowing he was correct even if they weren't expecting it. 

"You're all wrong--except for Miles," (y/n) grinned, feeling like she was genuinely imparting her knowledge, and the boy nodded smugly. 

"No, we're talking about a crime that's so easy, it's like taking candy from a baby--" Ray grinned sneakily, a strange glint in his eye as he teased the group, refusing to tell them what he had planned. While his sweet girl covered the learning side, he liked to make things fun, often roping his faithful handyman into his schemes since he'd never do anything humiliating himself. So, right on cue...

"SCHWOZ!" He yelled, looking at the room at the back of the classroom, where someone could take the stairs to the Man's Nest if they wanted to. The genius skipped into the room with a moody expression gracing his face as he briskly passed the children, looking like he was regretting his life choices. 

And why wouldn't he? Per his boss' instructions, he wore a ridiculously garish onesie instead of his overalls, looking stupid with the puppy-print fabric tucked into his work boots and a giant rainbow lollipop in his fist. He felt silly, hearing the giggles around the room as he twirled before standing still, acting like an infant just because Ray threatened to fire him if he didn't comply. It wasn't fair, but he needed this job...

"I am Baby. I loves me lolly, and I hope no one takes from me..." he said bitterly, glaring at the couple across the room--at Ray because he forced him to do this, and (y/n) because she tried and failed to hide her laughs. She chuckled into her hand, thinking he was the fuzziest, cutest, yet weirdest baby she'd ever seen, and he wasn't impressed.

"So, you want us to stop you from taking candy from a baby?" Mika asked, understanding what Ray meant now that she saw Schwoz, and (y/n) nodded. 

"Oh, not us! My sweet girl would never hurt a baby, and I'm far too good a person for that," the man replied innocently, making his wife roll her eyes because she knew of his lesson plan. It was strange and wacky but totally Ray, and whilst schwoz wasn't happy with being roped into his schemes, he couldn't wait to impart his knowledge. 

"You're stopping..." he paused, turning away from the kids and bending over, swiftly rubbing his fingers through his hair and pressing something sticky on his upper lip before turning around again.

"ROY!" The man declared, spinning around to glare at the puzzled team with a crazed look in his eye, looking deranged with his hair all mused and a fake moustache plastered under his nose. Ray--or Roy as he called himself--sneered at the kids, who didn't understand what he was playing at when he crept around the mini-stage, much to his sweet girl's exasperation. Most schools weren't like this...

"Roy?" Miles frowned with his eyebrows knitted together.

"It's Ray but evil..." (y/n) explained tiredly, nudging her doofus in the ribs when he tried to stick his face near hers, grunting like a weirdo as he acted as this...character. 

"And I hope he no takes me lolly!" Schwoz whimpered fakely, pretending to be scared as he wiggled the candy in his slightly sticky hand. Honestly, he wasn't paid enough for this. 

"Oh, Roy's takin' that lolly...unless somebody...stops me," Ray growled in his adenoidal voice before creeping forward like some kind of Scooby Doo character--all exaggerated with his crooked fingers and giant steps. The kids didn't need to be told twice, readying themselves for the mentor's bizarre challenge. Chapa stepped up first, sliding in front of Ray, determined to prove herself after so many weeks of failing with her electricity. 

"Get zapped!" She hissed, immediately thrusting her arms forward to release some sparks, but still, her aim was terrible. Whilst she could conjure her power, when it burst forth from her fingertips, it whizzed past Ray's body, going wide and forcing (y/n) to hop the sidelines with a yelp. The man smirked smugly, standing like a statue as the girl desperately tried to hit him. Still, he didn't even need to try and protect himself - she couldn't even hit a stationary target. 

"No!"

"Okay, maybe not--maybe this one!" Chapa grunted, trying again with her other hand, releasing a small fork of lightning that barely brushed his ear. Even if she aimed correctly, it wasn't exactly a bolt from the heavens, just a tickle to sting the skin and make someone jump. 

"Miss!"

"This one! Stop--stop dodging!" Her open palm shot a bolt toward the ceiling, and the more she tried to zap that smirk off his face, the more Chapa grew frustrated. Her aim grew worse, blasting everything but Ray as he chuckled, so she swore he was cheating, swaying out of her range before her electricity could land. 

"Didn't even have to dodge. Roy don't dodge!" Ray retorted, loudly whispering to the kids and winking at his sweet girl like it was a secret. (y/n) suppressed her smile as Mika, Bose, and Miles rolled their eyes, rooting for their friends more than their cocky teacher.  

Even though it was a little mean to taunt her, he wasn't wrong, standing in the same old spot as she kept sparking, only to release a bolt that ricocheted off the smartboard and zipped back toward her body. It shot past her head and hit poor Schwoz in the eye, making Baby whine as he clutched his face, wondering what he did to deserve such rough treatment. 

"Dang it!" Chapa growled, scolding herself for failing the test since she obviously had. She wasn't an expert at this rescue thing yet, but she was pretty confident that shooting the vulnerable victim wasn't heroic. 

"You failed to stop Roy--next!" Ray announced with a tiny dab, thinking he was so hip and down with the kids with the dance moves he'd seen on Twitflash. After Chapa sulkily returned to the lineup, Bose skipped into the middle, not knowing what was happening. Still, he'd give it his best shot--and all with his usual innocently sweet smile. 

"Did it get a little cloudy in here? 'Cause I think a Brainstorm's a-brewing!" He quipped, proud of himself for thinking of something so witty since Ray liked it when they said cool things before attacking. As much as he wanted them to be swift and efficient, he loved a little flare, appreciating the clever wordplay from a kid typically so dense. 

"Ooh, sick entrance line. Roy approves! Let's see how you do with the execyoosh!" Ray cackled, sneaking back onto the lecturing stage as Bose prepared himself. 

Like always, he pressed two fingers against his temples and outstretched the other hand, aiming to lift Ray's baseball bat with his telekinesis. For something made of light yet durable aluminium, the boy made it look impossible, grunting and straining as his curled hand attempted to raise what felt more like a boulder than a bat. It moved a little, sliding across the floor limply as Ray stared at it blankly, knowing the boy's plan would be too obvious if he was a villain. 

"How is that supposed to stop Roy?" He asked thickly, throwing the kid a bored expression when the baseball bat floated horizontally, shaking terribly as Bose struggled to concentrate. 

"Whack him, Bose!" Mika encouraged him excitedly, hoping he'd manage to hit the hero and end his smugness. 

He groaned again, feeling like his brain was about to explode as he crooked a finger, commanding the bat to move slightly, picturing a cartoonish image of a crook getting beaten over the head with a bat. However, his wasn't precisely a damning blow--more like a gentle pat as it lightly tapped Ray's perky butt, making (y/n) giggle as it jiggled like jelly. Bose dropped the metal bat with a deep sigh, feeling exhausted despite the gentle exercise. 

"Sorry, guys..." he panted at his friends, his chest rapidly rising and falling as Ray rolled his eyes, easily distracted by the pretty girl at the lectern. 

"One more grunt, and I'd have to change my pants again today."

"Thanks for the weapon, kid. Roy played baseball in high school. Four hundred RBIs--could've gone pro if it wasn't for Roy's dang knee..." Ray said wistfully, going into a surprising amount of detail as he pouted at his injured leg like he'd genuinely lived this other life--all in the third person, apparently. It gained him a few weird looks from the kids and his wife, who wanted to know how long he'd been picturing Roy and his evil life after they'd planned this lesson. 

"How deep is Roy's backstory?" She asked, looking amused as Ray turned to her with an enamoured smile. He didn't look the same with that moustache like he was amidst a midlife crisis. However, she still saw her doofus, giving him an alluring gaze when he sauntered to her side, smirking. 

"Deeper than the seas, pretty girl, where Roy is a certified scuba instructor..." he crooned, thinking something like that would be hot and attractive to his wife as she giggled. Loving her bright smile, he stepped forward and cupped her cheek, hoping to satisfy his craving for something sweet by leaning in for a small kiss...only for (y/n) to put her fingers betwixt them. 

"Hey! I want a kiss..."

"Sorry, Roy. I only kiss my husband, Ray," the woman teased him, watching as a kaleidoscope of emotions whirled across his face in a split second - from confusion to sadness to anger to resilience. 

He pecked her open palm instead, accepting her refusal with dignity and grace since he saw the game in her eyes. As if the ring on his finger didn't match hers, but he shrugged it off, knowing he'd have her once they caught a moment alone and resumed the exercise. 

"Next!" Mika walked into the middle of the room with a confident face, eager than most to impress Ray. She'd wipe that disappointed, lovesick, puppy-like expression off his mug, having practised her super-scream every night for the past week to try and strengthen her vocal cords. 

"Get ready to be...blown away!" She exclaimed, as eager as Bose with her witty entrance line, although it wasn't quite so creative. And it didn't help how she twitched her fingers to highlight the pun, making her quip seem clunky and forced, unlike her friend's smoother delivery. 

"Unnecessary air quotes--B minus!" The hero retorted, making the dark-haired girl grit her teeth and curse. She wasn't used to failure, being the kid who always earned gold stars at school, but it wasn't all bad, not when she'd caught Ray in a particularly tetchy mood after (y/n) teased him like that. 

So, she didn't let the lowered grade deflate her enthusiasm, shaking her limbs loose as she dipped into concentration. Her hands opened next to her head, stretched open as she screamed, attempting to flex her throat in the unique way that made it super. It worked, vibrating slightly to create airwaves that tickled Ray's face and ruffled his hair a little, chocolate locks flapping gently in the breeze. 

He didn't look very impressed, and she guessed if this was real, Baby wouldn't have his candy anymore. 

"Take that!"

"Took it. Bored! Next!" Ray snapped and dabbed, quickly burning through his protégées and their pathetic powers. 

At long last, it was Miles' turn as his sister returned to the sidelines, grumbling, but he didn't see as...hurried as the others. He strolled calmly in front of Ray, looking rather bored with the situation--almost as if it didn't bother him. Flashing Ray a sickly sweet smile, he shoved his hands in his pockets, clearly making no attempt to teleport, attack, or pull any other manoeuvre to save Schwoz, much to the adults' confusion. 

"On the contrary, there will not be a next time," he declared confidently as Mika facepalmed, exasperated by his stubbornness.  

"What?" Ray frowned, wondering if he'd heard the kid correctly. He set the rules here and expected all the children to participate in his lessons, even if they were strange since they'd help them learn. What was Miles' deal?

"I refused to be tested, Roy," the kid replied, giving his boss a sceptically harsh glance as he refused to use his superpower. "I won't play your game. And besides, the solution will reveal itself.

"So...you're just gonna let Baby die?" Ray asked incredulously in his silly, evil voice, which made everyone ponder his words because he didn't say that before they started. They didn't think the exercise was so...critical and anguished, especially Schwoz, who looked up from picking his fingernails with a pale, panicked face. 

"Wait, what?"

"I thought you were just gonna take his candy!" Chapa gasped, thinking that if she knew the supposedly delicate and dangerous situation, she and the others would've tried harder. (y/n) observed quietly, folding her arms as she watched her husband dither, aware that he'd diverted from his plan and now had to think of an excuse. God, his arms looked really good in that shirt...

"What you don't know is that...the lollipop contains the very medicine that keeps Baby alive," Ray explained, making everything up as he went along. Still, they nodded, going along with whatever he said since this was his charade, despite Schwoz's bored grimace. 

"Miles, you have to fight him! You can't just wait for every problem to solve itself," Mika told her brother sternly, ignoring his impudent shrug. He always did this, believing more in his hippy, karmic nonsense than reason or science, and often refused to work because of it. He thought the universe would pay him back for being a good person, and whilst that was somewhat true, it frustrated everyone to see him standing idly by. 

However, the universe must've loved that boy. By some mystic intervention or Lady Luck's grace, Miles' problem was solved by a sudden and unexpected interruption as the school's security system kicked in, warning its occupants that someone was wandering too close for comfort. 

"Stranger approaching. School mode activated." The automated voice spoke robotically as the lights flashed red, meaning the test would have to resume another time before this wanderer saw something they shouldn't. 

"All right, test over!"

Ray and (y/n) were the first to jump into action, highly protective of their secrets as Schwoz took off running and screaming, knowing there was little he could do but hide - a weirdo like him wasn't exactly fit for public view dressed in a onesie. Ditching his moustache and shoving their flirting aside for now, the couple quickly instructed the kids to look normal as the classroom cleverly hid its superhero gear and replaced it with pens, pencils and coloured paper. 

"See? The problem solved itself. Feels good to be right!" Miles grinned as his friends dashed about, hugging the walls as the desks popped out of the floor and the chairs came down from the ceiling. 

"You're still gonna do that test!" (y/n) told him firmly, wanting to add to her notes about the boy's progress, and she couldn't do that if he didn't complete it. Still, she left the discussion there, hoping her warning sunk in as she and Ray slipped into their dapper blazers, rolling their shoulders to get used to the stiff material - looking so formal wasn't their usual style. 

As the board changed to some random, boring schoolwork, the kids hastily took their seats, settling into what appeared to be an ordinary lecture whilst the teachers hurried to the door. 

"Hello?" They could hear someone shouting from the other side of the thick oak, a scratchy, whiny, vaguely familiar voice before they took a deep breath and twisted the golden knob. Just act normal and pretend like it was a real school...

Ray opened the door to a Fuschia-wearing monster leaning on the frame, and he felt a shiver roll down his spine as he met its eyes. And he knew them all too well. He and (y/n) thought they'd seen the last of Sharona Shapen, an old acquaintance from Henry's school days and someone he'd not only had the misfortune of taking on a date once but kissing too. 

The thought made him want to puke, but first, he wanted to know why the garishly hideous woman was standing in his front porch light.

"Oh, hey, handsome!" Sharona greeted Ray smoothly as she waltzed into the building without so much as an invitation, ignoring the pretty woman by his side. The hero shivered at the so-called compliment, not wanting her or anybody else to flirt with him while he loved his wife--so now until forever. 

"Uh, can we help you?" (y/n) asked awkwardly, knowing she'd just been ignored like a doormat. Yet she held her ground as her husband closed the door, peering at the gangly woman as she analysed the classroom, looking ridiculous in her bright pink suit. Sharona had never been what one would call a fashionista. 

"Depends. Do you know any good-looking guys with low standards?" The blonde asked humorously, clearly the same sad, lonely woman she'd been when Henry Hart was still her pupil. Her personality didn't help, having a penchant for being awkward and weird, as well as her tacky dress sense. 

But the heroine didn't feel any sympathy for her, not when she always wooed her doofus like she wasn't in the room, so she chose to stick to his side, ensuring her gleaming wedding ring was on display. She wouldn't let her anywhere near her lover without hosing him down afterwards. 

"No, I'm married. I don't need to look for guys anymore," she replied with a polite yet strained smile, threading her arm through Ray's as he smiled. He still wasn't used to hearing it, beaming with pride that the woman on his arm was his wife, not that it phased Miss Shapen. She wasn't picky, not at all, and that's when it hit Mika. 

"Wait, aren't you a teacher at Swellview Junior High?" She asked, knowing she'd seen the woman before when she attended regular school. But she'd never been one of her pupils because she left before she was old enough for those classes. 

"I was, but Swellview Junior High and I both decided it was time to part ways."

"So you got fired," Chapa retorted dryly, knowing she was sugarcoating the truth because schools didn't let teachers go without a good reason. And with Sharona Shapen, (y/n) could believe it, having heard all about her bizarre exploits and low expectations when her old babies used to visit the Man Cave after school. Good times...

"Bingo! Anyway, I work for the city now. Sharona Shapen, school inspector, see?" The woman announced, showing them all the official identity papers she pulled from her back pocket and the couple wished she'd shown them when she first walked in. 

But that was part of her plan, smirking slightly when she saw how they gulped at the revelation. Before, she was just another overworked, underpaid teacher doing the nine-to-five. Still, now, she was in a position of power--and it definitely went to her head, making (y/n) pray that she went easy on them. 

"Gotta make sure every school in Swellview has a license, and, according to my records, you ain't got one!" 

"Well, can we get one?" Ray asked quietly, audibly swallowing the lump in his throat as his sweet girl's tummy fluttered with nerves. She hadn't thought about that - a license, assuming that high on Mount Swellview, no one would care if they opened a school, given how they were tucked away, minded their own business, and mostly kept to themselves. 

Neither she nor Ray thought about regulations or inspections; they just wanted to teach four kids to be superheroes, but the city officials had apparently noticed. 

"Maybe..." Sharona replied curtly, enjoying watching the handsome man and his timid wife squirm as she tucked her clipboard under her arm, 

"But you gotta pass my test!"

"I can pass your test! Anything! Give me your test, and I'll pass it! You got this..." Mika exclaimed, mumbling words of encouragement as her competitive streak flared upon hearing that word - test. She loved them, making her a little crazy, but she was good at them, studying harder and longer than most to prove that she was better than the rest. 

"Not you, smarty pants!" Sharona, however, wasn't so impressed, wondering where the try-hard popped up from and why she thought she could pass anything. 

"Thank you! I like yours too..." Mika grinned shyly, weirdly thinking the woman's curt tone was a compliment, but at least it seemed to smooth over her foul mood. 

"I bet you do...They're Bucci!" Miss Shapen replied smugly, turning around and wiggling her butt to the disgusted team to show them the disaster label. She had no shame, parading around with Bucci--some hideous, gaudy fashion designer--emblazoned on her ass in sparkling diamantes, both on the jacket and her pants. 

The suit must've cost thousands, yet for all that money, she still looked like a fire-damaged Barbie doll...

"This whole school needs to pass my test. You kids, the water supply, your hot teacher, his little wife..." She explained, and whilst Ray appreciated the small compliment, (y/n) couldn't help but growl. What did she need to do to make this woman back off?

She hugged his arm to her chest, glaring at Sharona for flirting with her husband, especially when she recognised their marriage and still disregarded it. Of course, he was hot, achingly so, but only she got to point it out...and see him naked. 

But she brushed it off, wanting to hear more about this test as the children wriggled in their chairs, uncomfortable with a stranger in their classroom. 

"I need to conduct a thorough investigation of this school right now, or I'm shuttin' it down!" The inspector declared, acting a little too dramatic for everyone's taste. Still, they said nothing, not wanting to upset the Fushica overlord before she handed the license over, even if that couldn't be today. They weren't ready...

"We can't take your test today because we're going on a field trip!" Mika lied nervously, and luckily, Sharona wasn't too bright. She was still suspicious, eyeing the kids and apparent teachers as they smiled sweetly--perhaps too sweetly. 

"Where to?"

"A field," (y/n) said instantly, not missing a beat as she stood a little closer to her doofus, her face stern and severe like a firm, merciless teacher, much like Sharon's used to be. It sounded absurd, but a field trip was a field trip, no matter where they went, and the woman could hardly argue with that if one of the headteachers said so. 

"Can I come?" Sharona asked, wanting to know what they were teaching in the field, but the heroine had an answer, too. 

"Did you bring your parents' signature?"

"No, my parents are ashamed of me," the weird woman replied, staring at the floor as everyone coughed awkwardly. They could believe that, observing the inspector and thinking she wasn't exactly a superstar in her eye-wateringly bright outfit. But this was good, and they had to fight the smiles itching to get onto their faces as they lured her away from snooping around the school. 

"All right then. Well, have a nice day!" Ray told her with a quick smile, reaching out to take her by the shoulders and guide her toward the door--to whichever hell hole she came from. The sooner she was gone, the better, and luckily, she didn't protest, shuffling toward the exit with nothing but a mildly confused countenance.  

"Well, I'll be back tomorrow!"

"Can't wait for that..." (y/n) hummed, standing by the door, ready to pull it open so she could throw Sharona out on her ear. She'd undoubtedly return to flirt with her doofus, darkening the heroine's mood, but at least they'd be rid of her for a short while. 

"And I better see some teaching. And some learning! Some Phys Ed, some Driver's Ed--I wanna see all the Eds! And if I don't...I'm shuttin' it down!" The loudmouth woman decreed as she paused in the doorway, glaring at the meek couple, who gulped at her furious tone. 

They didn't doubt her word, not liking the thought of being shut down by Sharona Shapen, of all people, and if SWAG was to go, they could say goodbye to Danger Force. The kids needed the school to fool their parents and learn to control their powers. So, when (y/n) finally closed the door behind her, bolting it to stop the beast from reentering, she and Ray faced the kids with worried frowns. 

"We better find some Eds..." the man announced to the sombre room, blowing his cheeks out as (y/n) held his hand tightly, watching the children exchange concerned glances. 

Okay, she'd take that kiss now. Anything to soothe her frazzled nerves...

~The next day~

True to her, Sharona showed up at SWAG the very next day. 

She strolled up to the front door like a woman on a mission, determined to prove her authority and power with the mere clipboard in her hand, wearing another hideous outfit – this one a grotesque prune colour, complete with a frilly, flowery blouse. This time, she hoped to catch the handsome teacher and his stupid wife off their guard, knowing they wouldn't have two field trips in one week, so she eagerly pressed the doorbell, ready to wreak some chaos. 

But Ray and (y/n) hadn't been idle. Despite only having a few hours to prepare, they and the kids devised a curriculum for her test, organising many fake lessons to please any city inspector. Everything had to be perfect, from the classroom layout to the kids' behaviour to the teachable content to the teachers. And the couple certainly brought their A-game. 

"--And now you know everything Albert Einstein knew..." Ray told the room as he answered the door to the walking grape, grimacing when he noticed how she leaned on the doorframe again - apparently her seductive pose.

"Oh, hello! Whatever brings you to our modest and totally real school?" The hero asked politely as he smiled, knowing he risked a slap from his sweet girl if he dared to sneer at the woman. 

He was dressed to the nines, turning his business casual style from yesterday into an outfit fit for the gentry. Instead of his usual comfy, unbelievably hot t-shirt, he wore a proper button-down under his perfectly ironed blazer. He even tucked a regal silk cravat between the loosened collar, hating how warm it made his neck, but (y/n) said it was fetching. 

She didn't quite agree with his knee-high riding boots. His tan trousers were tucked into them, giving him an air of nobility, although she still preferred her silly doofus. 

"Cool your boots, fancy toots. And you, Little Miss Muffet, out of my way!" Sharona scoffed at their excellent manners, showing her lack thereof as she pushed her way into the building, rudely barging past (y/n) as she did. 

If it wasn't for her façade of politeness and gentility, (y/n) would've given her a couple of fives right up her hooter. But she relented, staying true to her mission as she brushed the invisible dust off her uniform and carried on calmly. 

She'd also swapped her casual jeans and t-shirt, wearing a tight but not too revealing pencil skirt, which matched her femininely cut jacket. And whilst she preferred sneakers for when she was lecturing, her simple, black heels made her legs look long and elegant, so, prettied up with the diamond earrings from their anniversary and her hair all pinned up, she looked like an actual headmistress. 

That, and Ray thought she looked hot. 

"It ain't real until I says it's real." The couple rolled their eyes as Ray closed the door, wondering when they sunk so low to take orders from Sharona Shapen, but they bit their tongues. It was just for one morning...

"Now, let's blast some school inspection music and get this done!" They couldn't argue with that, not if they wanted to receive a notice of closure, so they let the woman do what she wanted. 

As the music played an upbeat, hip-hop pop song, they began to show her what SWAG had to offer. Like sound, diligent students, the kids gathered around with exaggerated awe, listening intently as Mr and Mrs. Manchester talked through what the lessons were today - all while they sipped from their his and hers mugs. At least Ray looked calm, playing with his charm and devilish good looks to soften Sharona up, even if it made (y/n) break a pencil or two. 

First, they started with science, allowing them to introduce the inspector to Professor Schwoz - the part-time science teacher. He knew the plan to make it seem like the children were learning as he swirled a few potions and lotions to impress Sharona--and it worked, even if Bose tried to drink hydrochloric acid like it was lemonade. 

She didn't know what half those chemicals, powders, and doohickeys did, but it looked...learn-y, which she quickly noted on her report. 

Next, Ray took gym class - the only thing (y/n) could see him instructing successfully, other than hero stuff. Of course, they didn't have anything suitable to show a civilian, nothing that didn't include blasters and super-suits, so he opted for the big bouncy balls again, getting them to bounce around like it was good exercise. 

Well, it seemed enough to please Miss Shapen, who enjoyed seeing the children boinging on the lively things...but she liked seeing Headmaster Manchester in his gym clothes much more. 

Then, (y/n) took math class, expertly guiding the children through quadratic equations and the Pythagorean theorem as if it were child's play. Her plan was to baffle Sharona with numbers, spouting some mumbo-jumbo about Xs and parentheses as Mika, Miles, Chapa, and Bose nodded like they understood the scrawlings on the board. 

"The square of the hypotenuse of an isosceles triangle is equal to the sum of the square of the other two sides." She made it sound simple: quickly find C after jotting down a few numbers. 

It wasn't tough since she loved math. She breathed math. She'd die for math. But it was enough to impress the snooty, violet-wearing woman observing her lecture, who'd learned something or two while she noted everything down. 

Finally, the final lesson rolled around, and this was the big one. The grand finale. The class about the learning of things that had already happened. History. The adults went all out, giving each kid a period costume and a prop to carry as they reenacted the Battle of Swellview, marching past Sharona with their antique swords, scrolls and ginormous flag. 

They claimed the land - or stage - for their new city, gathering around with their dramatic poses and extravagant costumes as the inspector watched with tears in her eyes, full of pride for the founding story of her city. 

Ray couldn't help but feel smug, swirling the last trickle of coffee in his mug since his precious wife drank half of it, saying his had just enough sweetness for her liking - much more than hers. But he couldn't be mad, half-cocked and drooling as she watched her lecturing the class as if it was her destiny, swanning around in that pencil skirt like his teenage pin-up. 

His wife was hot, and everyone knew he turned into a lust-addled zombie when she talked numbers. So, when Sharona finally concluded her test, he was barely listening. 

"Well, that's it. You all failed!--" She announced, pausing the catchy song as the group stared at her in disbelief, baffled as to where they'd gone wrong. They thought it was perfect...

"What?! How?" (y/n) gasped, breaking her doofus out of his daydream about seeing that skirt on the floor as she squeezed his hand. Was this it? Was her ridiculous, itchy dress and mob cap all for nothing? She didn't want to lose the school, not so soon after opening it, and her heart was in her mouth until...Sharona smiled, pulling the biggest UNO reverse card ever. 

"--Failed to do anything wrong! You passed!" She declared, much to their immense relief and delight. 

The children and Schwoz cheered and high-fived each other as Ray and (y/n) embraced and shared a quick kiss, stopping short of swallowing each other's faces after a tense night of very little passion. He looked surprisingly in his sailor's hat and period-style shirt - Mr Darcy, who?

"Swellview Academy for the Gifted is an officially licensed school..." Miss Shapen told them as she passed Ray a freshly signed certificate, which decreed that the city recognised their right to educate its youngest and most impressionable students. It would look great on their wall, all framed and displayed for all to see and admire. 

"Nice!" Ray grinned as he eagerly showed it to his precious wife with a peck to her temple. He squeezed her tightly as she took it from his hands and squealed, believing their worries to be over...

"You'll get your two new students tomorrow." But, of course, nothing was ever simple. Their joy and merriments died after the moody woman added the baffling news, making them stare at her with deeply concerned frowns. Hoping they misheard her, they gasped, not liking what they heard because it sounded like she said new students, but surely not...

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa...Take that and rewind it back!"

"What new students?" (y/n) questioned furiously as she and Ray stepped away from the horrified children and faced her, but Sharona didn't bat an eyelash. She didn't care about their arguments or discomfort; she had a job, so it wasn't personal, even if she'd like to get a little personal with a certain someone...

"Oh, well, there's a shortage of available space at gifted schools. I got two kids who have been learnin' at a bus station for the last month," she explained, making the Danger Force team scowl, suddenly feeling grateful for the clean and proper facilities provided for them. 

But, as much as the sob story made (y/n)'s heart hurt, she refused to take on more students. She exchanged a worried look with her husband, who was on the same page as her, thinking their superhero duties would move to the back burner with two randomers snooping around the school and possibly the Man's Nest. Ray wouldn't have his sweet girl looking so nervous, boldly stepping toward Sharona again with a defiant frown. 

"I'm moving them here tomorrow."

"Well, what if we don't take them?" He asked, turning his nose up at the thought of more children running rampant in his home, rapidly becoming a goddamn daycare. 

"Well, then, I'm shuttin' ya down!" The woman replied haughtily with what was rapidly becoming her catchphrase. She pulled a small removed from her pocket, glaring at the rebellious couple as she pressed a button to summon...police officers?

They stormed in as a shrill siren sounded, entering the building with stern faces, alarmingly short shorts and sleeves shirts. And it wasn't even that hot outside. The chief, some tall, intimidating dude, stomped in with his beefy guns out, harsh gaze flickering from the puzzled kids, horrified couple, and to one very smug inspector. 

"You shuttin' this place down, Sharona?"

"I don't know... Are we?" She asked, coldly looking at Ray and (y/n) as they sighed, knowing their hands were tied. This was her way of flexing some muscle, scaring them into compliance, no matter how much they resented the thought of two bus shelter charity cases. As much as they wanted to shout, kick, and scream, neither wanted to get into a fight with the police, so with a defeated shrug from his sweet girl, Ray growled and deflated. 

"Fine--we'll take 'em!" He conceded, but he wasn't happy about it. However, Sharona appeared delighted, turning to her muscular enforcers with a mischievous smirk - (y/n) was just glad it wasn't aimed at her doofus. 

"Then, carry me out, buster!" She exclaimed before, in a bizarre, almost concerning feat, leaping across the room and into the chief's arms so he could carry her out bridal style. Her gangly frame looked unsteady in his embrace despite the man's apparent strength. But, unfortunately, the other policemen closed the door before the team could see if she fell flat on her face. What a shame...

"See you tomorrow!"

"We're screwed..." (y/n) noted once they were alone with nothing other than the revelation that SWAG was getting two new students in the morning. The certificate in her hand felt obsolete now, the joy draining from their bodies at the thought of babysitting two kids while fighting crime. 

The thought was impossible, making her give her doofus a worried glance as he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. They needed a plan--and quick. 

~The Man's Nest~

After that sobering warning from Miss Shapen, the Danger Force team gathered upstairs to lick their wounds and formulate a plan - anything to save their secret operation. 

Each person was tasked with researching their own idea of how to get rid of these two new kids, thinking, tapping, or, in Bose's case, nibbling as they went. There had to be a way of getting rid of them, preferably without too much mess - looking at Chapa there - the only trouble was nailing it. 

Mika was particularly tenacious, on the ball as always, but what was new there? As she sat at the mini-supercomputer, the others listened intently, even though whatever she'd thought of wasn't what they'd had in mind - more like blood, murder, and pitchforks. 

"So, we find these kids' personal information, and then, we fill out an application to--"

"Boring!" Ray interrupted the poor girl as he sat on the back of the couch, looking far more fetching now that he and his sweet girl had changed out of their fancy clothes. His muscles in that bold-pattern shirt looked good enough to eat, but (y/n) frowned at his rudeness, knowing Mika was onto something. 

Of course, she was. She was the one who told her where to look and what to look for in the first place. 

"Raymond!" The heroine scolded him, and Ray stood up from where he'd been perched on the back of the couch. He gave her a slight pout but didn't apologise, believing he'd done nothing wrong. In fact, he merely kissed her forehead and brushed past, thinking he held the solution to all their problems - being the thinker he was. 

"Schwoz, go get the Memory-Wiper! The new kids show up, we erase their memories, badaboom bada--" he smirked, much to the kids' frustration. They'd been over this a million times, but no matter how much they explained it to him, the doofus wouldn't get it past his thick skull. Not even if (y/n) smushed his cheeks together and made him listen. 

"Do you ever listen?!" Mika shouted dramatically as Schwoz rubbed his temples, feeling a migraine coming on. 

"I told you ten times!" The genius told Ray, looking thoroughly exasperated since it was like trying to talk to a brick wall, especially when he took an interest in the new jeans (y/n) was wearing. 

"The Memory-Wiper got destroyed when you, Miss Danger, and Kid Danger fought Drex! It's not going to conveniently get us out of things anymore..."

"Nice try, doof..." (y/n) hummed, walking over to pat his chest and give her husband a quick smooch as he groaned. He really thought he was onto something, but they'd have to be more creative than that. Schwoz could make another Wiper, but that would take too long, and it was old tech anyway. He wasn't the type to look back - it distracts from the now. 

"I know how we can get rid of these kids..." Chapa remarked as she looked up from her tablets, and all her friends turned to stare at her, including the kissing couple. This would be interesting...

"We get a chainsaw, and a ceiling fan, and a--"

"Chapa, no! No violence, no blood, no murdering, and certainly, no chainsaws!" (y/n) told her sharply, pinching her eyes for the hundredth time because all of the girl's ideas had been like that. Dark, demonic, and highly illegal, decidedly not in line with Captain Man's heroic values. 

She scowled at that, slumping in her chair as the man crouched down to her eye level, wondering who he'd pissed off to deserve such a troublesome pupil. 

"What's your deal? Why are you so scary?" He asked, but that seemed to infuriate her more as she leaned closer to his face with bared teeth and blazing eyes. 

"A boy stole my cell phone!"

"So, buy another one!" Ray snapped, unphased by her thunderous voice because it was the same old rhetoric. 

He and his sweet girl had discussed this many times, but neither understood the kid's obsession with some crappy, outdated PearPhone, and it was getting old. Anyone else would've simply moved on, bitter but free from the burden of a grudge, but not Chapa. She took things much more seriously, like the theft was a black mark against her ancestors or something. 

"No! If you're best friend got stolen, would you just buy another one?" She asked furiously, and it wasn't the first time the Man's Nest had seen such an argument. She never backed down nor gave up, stubborn to a fault, but unfortunately, so was Ray, and he didn't shy away from a fight either. 

"Yes! I fell in love with my first best friend, so I hired a new one!" The man replied instantly, causing (y/n)'s ears to superheat since she wasn't expecting him to put it so bluntly. As she scratched the back of her head and giggled nervously - a clear sign to the kids that Ray was talking about her - the hero took a moment to spare himself the heartache. 

The reality of it all was hard to acknowledge out loud. 

"Then, he moved to Dystopia, so I bought four new ones!" He exclaimed, and honestly, that made them melt a little. Whilst they knew Kid Danger was special to Captain Man, always had been and always would be, it was nice to see that they filled the Henry-sized hole in his heart. Sort of. 

"Aww...love you, man," Bose cooed, reaching to bump fists with his mentor as he and (y/n) tried not to get mopey. The kids were good, but really, they didn't replace anyone...

"We'll get there," Ray let him down gently, briefly tapping his knuckles since he wouldn't call any of them his best friends. His wife would always be his first and greatest relationship, but he'd learned that with time, his love grew - not shared or halved, but it grew. Very slowly. 

"Anyway, doofus, I've been doing some research, and, according to The Big Book Of Swellview Laws, if these new kids agree to leave the school on their own--" (y/n) quickly moved on, tapping the spine of a heaven-sent, hazy hardback copy of the city's craziest laws. They still had work to do, but it was a start, and Ray couldn't help but beam at his wife's brilliance - she was so hot when she was being clever. 

"Then, Miss Shapen and her sleeveless goons can't shut us down! Nice work, sweet girl!" He chimed, blindly tossing the book over his shoulder when he plucked it from her hands, too eager to sweep her into a whirlwind of a kiss to care if it nearly hit Bose. Which it did--and Miles, who glared at the hero for almost killing him. 

Exactly! And no throwing things inside, Raymond. What have I told?" She nodded, slightly breathless from the passionate assault on her lips. Still, she remained firm, glimpsing at the boys apologetically as her guilty lover shuffled to retrieve the book like a good boy. 

"So, we just make life as miserable as possible for these new kids, and they agree to leave on their own," Chapa supposed, much to Ray's delight.

"Good plan, Chapa!" He nodded, clapping his hands together as (y/n) rolled her eyes. She'd basically come up with the plan; the girl merely read between the lines, but she let it go, too distracted by the large, warm hands that suddenly appeared on her waist. 

"And shockingly, not violent," Mika added, thinking her friend had refrained from her usual murderous ideas for a change, and it was lovely. She still didn't like the sound of torturing the new students on their first day, but where Chapa was concerned, it wasn't half bad. 

"...You didn't let me finish." Or not. The Latina rose from her chair with a cunning smirk, picturing scenes of horror and gore that would drive out any pathetic and unwelcome children from their school. 

"We find out who they love the most, and then, in the middle of the night, we--"

"Oh, come on!"

"Chapa, please!"

"You were doing so good!" Her friends groaned, not wanting to know what horror-film outing she'd planned since they knew it would lead to no good. As they cursed her for being abnormal, Chapa shrugged, wondering what all the fuss and nonsense was about--just because she saw things a little...differently. Blood-soaked with curdling screams of pain and anguish. 

In her mind, it worked - removing the problem perhaps a little messily, but so what? You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs, and if these new kids had to be the eggs?... Well, so be it. 

~The next day~

Bright early, everyone arrived in SWAG the next day, ready to give the new students hell. 

Perhaps it was a little unfair - it wasn't their fault that Sharona Shapen chose the only secret superhero school in the city to be theirs, but that didn't matter. Ray wanted them gone, and what he said went. Some of the plans were ridiculous, especially the giant high-striker Schwoz had installed at the front of the classroom. No one had any idea what the boss wanted to do with it. 

It was big, brash, and blue--kinda like Ray in that sense, and he chuckled to himself as he strapped his handyman into the device's little chair. His feet were already aching in his stiff riding boots, feeling like he had two lumps of cement on his feet, but it would be worth the pain of tricking the new brats into leaving. 

And he'd never complain about seeing his sweet girl in that pencil skirt, his eyes constantly glued to her ankles like an enchanted Victorian gentleman. (y/n) was a little flustered and jittery, pacing the room while biting her fingernails. Still, she powered through, turning a blind eye to every misdeed her friends committed - all for the greater good, apparently. Although, she swore there had to be a simpler way...

"Doofus, what are you doing? (y/n) asked her lover as he fiddled with the belt buckle on Schwoz's chair, and from where she was standing, it sounded like he was torturing the guy. He groaned and moaned, lolling his head from side to side, quietened only by Ray's occasional sharp warning. 

"You'll see, darlin'. All in good time..." Ray grinned, hoping she'd see his intelligence genius in the same way. But then, he glanced at his watch and paled at the time, knowing that the devil and her sproglets would soon be upon them--and he'd hardly created a classroom of chaos yet. 

"Hurry up! They're coming!" He shouted to the children, who'd been sent off on various tasks to try and find things to make their guests feel extra welcome. He didn't care what it was as long as it made them utterly miserable, although Schwoz didn't make it easy when he slapped his fingers for messing with his buckle. It was like he didn't want to help, no matter the cost...

"Ray, (y/n)! I found this broken chair in the basement!" Bose announced as he dashed into the room, wheeling an antique wicker wheelchair in front of him. 

It looked like it was at least a hundred years old, making (y/n) turn her nose up at the musty smell, and she assumed that it was something the previous owners must've left. She'd never keep something decrepit, and Ray wouldn't be seen dead in a wheelchair. Ever. 

And that wasn't all; in the chair's lap, he'd turned a rickety old stool upside to carry that too, and on closer inspection, it looked worse than the chair. Full of woodworm and rusty nails, the heroine was sure she'd need a tetanus shot if she sat on it - and that was coming from someone with super-regeneration. 

"Love it! Explain..." Ray nodded appreciatively, staring at the antiques with much more love than his wife could muster as they huddled together to hear Bose's plan. 

"We'll make one of the new kids sit in this rusty, busted-up thing, and we'll make the other sit on this termite stool," the boy smirked, knowing that his plan would cause pure despair for the students, even if it was a little mean. 

"What's a termite stool?" Mika asked from her desk, where she'd been feverishly researching something (y/n/n) told her to look into. She'd told her to work smarter, not harder, but when she heard something so stupid, she couldn't help but be distracted. 

"Stool full'a termites! Give it a sit!"

"No..." she quickly declined, returning to her work as Bose shrugged. He didn't care when the torture device was meant for someone else. Still, Mika didn't like the idea of using little insects to bite the unsuspecting kids, which was why she'd been working on something much kinder--and more straightforward, quicker, cheaper. Nothing could go wrong. 

"So, I was thinking--"

"Not finished!" But the long-haired boy had other ideas. Surprisingly, for one so dense, he'd been exceptionally proactive, coming up with not one but two mischievous ideas, even if the latter wasn't as strong as the other. 

"When the new kids get here, I'm also gonna use my powers to make stuff float. And I'm gonna use my throat to make ghost noises like, souuuuuuup!'"

"Soup?" (y/n) frowned, wondering why he thought a ghost would say that. Maybe it sounded a little spooky, but she couldn't take him seriously, not when she could sense Ray's jerking shoulders next to her. He thought it was funny, muffling his chuckles against her cheek when he hid his face from the boy. 

"Ghosts love soup. They tell me all the time."

"That's not concerning at all..." the woman mumbled to her husband, who could honestly say his eyebrows were through the roof. As if they didn't think Bose was bizarre enough, but now he was a medium, too. Fabulous. Either that, or he was hearing voices, and everyone knows what happens to people who listen to the voices in their heads...

"Good enough... Hey, where's Scary Bradshaw?" Ray asked, quickly moving on before they had to have the kid sectioned. And speaking of disturbing children, he'd noticed a dip in the negativity in the room, and that's when it hit him. Chapa hadn't said one rude, mean, or borderline psychotic thing in at least ten minutes - how long she'd been out of the room. 

"Chapa is hiding in the closet with a chainsaw. When we give her the cue, she's gonna jump out and scare the new kids!" Bose explained, having passed the girl after finding his chairs. It was like something out of a horror film with her sitting in there, waiting to pounce on whichever sucker walked in, despite being warned not to meddle with dangerous stuff. 

"Hey, I thought I said no more chains--"

"Hey, sweet girl, it's okay. Like it, love it, I want more of it!" Ray grinned, dismissing his wife's concerns since he saw no harm. Chapa was a competent and resourceful girl, and he'd seen a lot of thrillers - chainsaws got terrified kids running like nothing else. 

"What you got?"

"I plan on living with an open heart and a strong mind. And I'll remain like that until the solution presents itself," Miles replied when the teachers turned to him, still sitting on his holier-than-thou high horse since he was about his karma and all that mystic bullshit. The hero's proud smile quickly fell, unable to believe what he heard; would the kid ever do some work?

"Who made you this way?" the man asked tiredly, regretting all his choices at that moment. Open a school, they said. It'll be fun, they said. Train four kids at once, they said...

"The system!" Miles hissed, ready to go on a marching warpath since no one ever took his concerns seriously, being the warrior of social justice that he was. 

"I miss Henry--I miss Henry--I miss Henry..."

"It's okay, doof. Just...think nice thoughts. Go to your happy place!" (y/n) soothed her husband as he ran a frustrated hand through his floppy hair, longing for the days when he only had one sidekick - a funny, intelligent, obedient, capable boy who idolised him. And he was never like this. 

She sympathised with him; whilst she wasn't Miss Danger initially, she knew Henry took to the hero's life much more quickly than Danger Force ever did. They'd worked together for so long that everything felt natural and easy. Ray struggled to remember the early days when Henry spilt his secrets, disobeyed a few rules, and used his sidekick status for his games. 

"My happy place..." Ray hummed, smiling softly when he took a minute to tilt his head back and close his eyes, instantly knowing where he wanted to go. An island in the Polynesian Pacific, no kids, no cellphones, no villains turning the place to shit, just him and a very sweet girl strolling the ocean's side - maybe a few kids running in front of them. 

That made him happy--enough to calm his temper for the next kid.

"Mika!" he called out, looking at the girl, who'd barely said a word all morning. She'd just tap-tapped away on her PearPad, ignoring the world around her for whatever was so momentous on the screen.

"Okay, don't be mad, but--"

"Yeah, but see, that always makes me mad..." Ray replied anxiously, wondering if she'd done anything to help and none of that so-called scheming she liked to do. He wanted action, not a namby-pamby cleverness because no one liked a know-it-all except when his darling wife was all hot and smart. 

"Let's just hear what she has to say, Raymond. Go on, Mika..." (y/n) told him gently, tangling her fingers with his as the girl nodded at her reassuring smile, glad someone could control the man-child. 

"Well, actually, it's one of your ideas, but once I've learned these kids' names, I'm gonna enter their personal information into--" she tried to explain after digging and finding that the woman's suspicion was correct. She could get the kids to leave without leaving her seat, doing more damage on her tablet than Ray could do with a million blasters in the field, but he didn't see it that way. 

"A supercomputer that will eat them?!" He proposed, making his precious wife sigh and smack her forehead. Why did he have to be so impatient?

"No!"

"Then, I don't care. Next!" The hero told her rudely, earning himself a whack on the arm from (y/n), who frowned at how he dismissed poor Mika so swiftly. She barely got a chance to explain, but the girl wouldn't be defeated when she had Miss Danger on her side - thank God that man married someone with a brain cell. 

"Just keep doing that, Mika, 'Kay?" She told the kid quietly as Ray rubbed the rapidly fading sore spot on his bicep, whining over annoying his sweet girl. He didn't want to upset her, longing for a bit of intimacy since it felt like forever since he'd had her all to himself. Still, he couldn't think like that, not even when she strolled around in that goddamn skirt. 

"What are you gonna do, doof?"

"Well, I'm glad you finally asked, sweet girl..." he grinned, eager to please and impress as he gestured to the high-striker ensnaring Schwoz. Although she'd already asked about it and watched him fiddle with the gizmo, she still listened intently, feeling like she was watching a little boy on Christmas morning as he showed off his weird toy. 

"It's a test of strength. Just like any other test of strength you'd see at a normal school," Ray presented to the class, earning a few confused stares since that wasn't exactly true. 

Still, (y/n) wouldn't stand for mockery of her beloved doofus, aware that he barely remembered school after finishing the third grade. That was the price of being the world's greatest superhero, making her smile sadly as he obliviously twirled the giant hammer in his strong hands. She'd do anything to keep him so playful and childish...

"You use this hammer to make Schwoz go all the way up there to ring that bell!"

"Hello..." the small man awkwardly waved at the kids, looking confused, irritated, and tired. He was just doing as he was told, despite not knowing entirely what he'd signed up for when Ray said all the way to the top. That sounded...painful. 

"How is this gonna make the new kids want to leave?" Mika questioned, interrupting the happy couple as (y/n) curled an arm around her lover's neck to gently kiss his lips. She couldn't help it if she found him utterly adorable above all his flaws, and those lips were too soft and delicious to ignore when they called to her like that...

"Ha-ha! You'll see!" Ray giggled, pulling away to rest his chin on his wife's head, looking a little too excited for a guy who'd merely installed a high-striker. 

"Please tell me nothing bad will happen," (y/n) begged him, hating the idea of cleaning up another implosion, spillage, or riot. She didn't like it when he tried to be mysterious; often, it was better for him to run things by her first - less chance of death, fire, murder, rampaging, pillaging, or plundering that way. 

"Just wait and see, pretty girl..." But the hero would reveal nothing, leaning down to find her honeyed lips again and smother her pout. While he couldn't promise something entirely harmless and clean, it would still be fun, hopefully enough to drive the new kids away. 

But the moment didn't last. Before he could hold her face to his, keeping the sweetness' source still for him to drink from, the school's security system kicked in. It was an absolute cockblock, ruining his fun before he could do anything else, so poor Ray had to settle for a mere peck. He was getting more and more frustrated every minute...

"Stranger approaching."

"Okay, that's them," he told the kids, ignoring their scrunched-up expressions as he licked the saccharine remnants from his lips and separated from his beloved wife. It was showtime. 

"Now, remember! Whatever happens, we gotta be really mean to these new kids!"

"I don't know, doofus. I'm not very good at the whole mean thing. It makes me feel...mean," (y/n) said quietly, loosely rolling her shoulders as she followed her husband to the door, knowing Sharona Shapen and her bus station brats were behind it. It wasn't in her nature to be spiteful or a bully - God knows she knew what it was like to be on the receiving end, but Ray just gave her a reassuring smile and placed his hand on her shoulder. 

"S'okay, darlin'. I don't want you to lose any of that sweetness, so try your best, okay?" He advised her gently, squeezing her tense flesh with the other hand resting on the doorknob as she nodded weakly. Miles and Bose giggled at how he could switch so effortlessly, going from Mr. Grumpy Pants one second to a lovable teddy bear the next--and all over a girl. 

With one final check of their suit and the outlay of the room, the headmaster opened his doors, a tight yet beaming smile on his face. Instantly, he was greeted with Sharona's ugly, unimpressed mug, something he never wanted to see in the morning, but there were two kids in front of her two. And strangely...they didn't look like monsters. Or brats. Or like they'd be any trouble at all. 

Admittedly, they were filthy, covered in dirt after studying rough for the last month, but if they looked past the stink, they were lovely. The boy, slightly smaller than the other and wearing an old, battered jacket and flat cap, gasped when he saw the room, lopping his arm with the girl's as she, too, seemed in awe at their new school. 

She kept her unwashed hair out of her face with a white handkerchief, looking like a child from a Dickens novel in her ill-fitting green dress and moth-eaten brown jumper. Her boots needed resoling, and her mother - if she had one - needed to give her a good bath since her face was stained with dirt. Yet, despite their abysmal, pitiable condition, they seemed happy, perfectly polite, and grateful to a fault. 

*I'd like to state for the record that English people don't speak like this. we don't live in Oliver Twist, okay?*

"Why, Percy! It's our new school! I'm sure we will love it so!" The girl remarked with tears in her eyes, speaking in a flawlessly clear English accent. And not like she was some Cockney peasant, but like she was one of the landed gentry - eloquent and refined in every syllable. 

"Oh, we shall, Miriam!" The boy, Percy, agreed, giving her a cheeky smile as they admired the sparkling facilities--a remarkable improvement on their old classroom. 

"We shall finally be happy here in our new school!"

"And it smells ever so much better than the bus station!" Miriam remarked as Ray and (y/n) stared at them, wondering where the brats were supposed to be because these were angles. Perfect, little British angels with their excellent manners and elegance. 

"That's because there's a bathroom here, sweetie," Miss Shapen told them, tearing delighted gasps from the children since they weren't used to such luxuries. Life hadn't been kind to them, not that anyone would guess, given their mildly irritating optimism. 

"Anyway, I gotta go. It's Hump Day, so there's free sushi at the gas station, and there's nothing like eating sushi in head to toe--Bucci!" Miss Shapen laughed at her little joke - the only person in the room to do so. She was a strange, strange woman, and luckily made her goodbyes quickly, leaving Ray and (y/n) with their new 'lil English crumpets. 

"Deuces!"

"Uh, hello, we're your new teachers. I'm (y/n), and this is my husband, Ray--" The heroine turned to the keen children with a watery smile, slightly discomforted by their unexpected politeness. She and her doofus were so used to the abrasiveness of Chapa's tongue or Miles' sassy remarks that to be respected was weird. And the Brits didn't stop there. 

"But you can't be our instructors! You're far too young and handsome!" Percy said warmly, looking at a blushing Ray as the man buttoned his lip and smirked at the compliment. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't hate anyone who stroked his ego, making him awkwardly look at (y/n) as she giggled awkwardly. 

"And this fine young lady is your spouse? Good heavens, you are the luckiest man in the world, good sir!" His attention turned to her, eyes twinkling with good intentions from under that flat cap, and the woman couldn't help but clench Ray's arm. 

His head was in danger of exploding, growing bigger with every praise because hell yeah, he knew he'd married the best girl in the world, and knowing that he had the honour of being her husband made him preen like a peacock. Even if they were annoyingly kind and courteous, they were nothing like he'd expected - twice as nice as the brats he had to teach. 

"And your generous spirits are as clear as the kindness in your eyes..." Miriam sighed, getting a little too kiss-assy, but she meant well. Perhaps a little too well, and given their unrelenting goodwill, (y/n) knew she'd never find it in herself to be mean. 

"Oh, uh...thank you! Would you please excuse us for one minute?" She said with a breathy laugh, dragging her doofus by the arm toward the kids and the door. The newcomers didn't mind, talking with pleasant smiles as they ushered Mika, Miles, and Bose into the closet, leaving Schwoz alone since they knew they needed an urgent change of plans. 

However, once they were inside, it was like a scene from Saw - providing some haunting noises for the children waiting patiently outside. Ray, his sweet girl, and the kids screamed in terror as a masked figure jumped out at them, ripping a chainsaw to life as it threatened to chop them to pieces. 

The hero instantly shielded his wife, fists clenched and ready to pummel the mystery slasher for trying to hurt her, but on closer inspection, they were a little short for a bloodthirsty killer. It was Chapa - of course, it was - who'd been waiting for the opportune moment to frighten the shit out of the new students, should they walk in. Only, she ended up giving (y/n) a heart attack and all her friends nightmares. 

"Sorry, I thought you were those gunchy new kids," she apologised, removing her faceless mask and putting the chainsaw down before she could slice anyone. Ray's arms loosened around (y/n)'s body, who dared to peek out from his chest when she realised the end hadn't come, although it was still nice to snuggle against his toned torso. 

"Turns out they're not gunchy at all! They're sweet as--my sweet girl!" Ray exclaimed, petting his wife's precious head as she smiled, shy from the compliment. She'd never claim to be as charming as those hard-done English kids, but she knew he'd argue otherwise, so she stayed silent. 

"I don't know if I can soup ghost them!" Bose pouted, knowing he'd been given a job, but like (y/n), being a bully wasn't in his nature. He was just unassuming, nice-guy Bose. 

"Their last school didn't have a bathroom..."

"If you could even call it a school. I don't think they've had comfortable lives at all," (y/n) noted as Miles frowned, a million questions racing through his mind about how bad their old school must've been. It only made them feel sorry for Miriam and Percy, and indeed, if anyone didn't deserve such terror, it was those sweet peas. 

"They've been through so much. Plus, Percy winked at me, and it melted my heart!" Mika sighed softly, and Ray nodded. He knew how that felt, utterly bewitched by the children and their kind hearts, which was saying something since he wasn't overly fond of children and their tendency to sublet in his home. 

"And Miriam complimented me and my sweet girl!"

"Seriously, I mean...no bathroom! Where have they been goin'?!" Miles pondered, eyebrows trenched in deep thought, although he didn't want to think about the alternatives to having no toilet. He couldn't imagine the squalid conditions they were forced to learn in, and suddenly, he and the others felt a little more grateful for their pristine classroom and facilities, nodding appreciatively. Well, save for Chapa...

"Hey!" She hissed, trying to get them to remember their objective. 

"I mean, I am very young-looking, and my wife is incredibly hot, so the compliments make sense, but--"

"HEY!" She snapped again, but this time, she chose violence. What was new? (y/n) cringed and shrank away in fear as the girl slapped her teacher brutally hard, silencing his pathetic, conceited ramblings about Miriam's apparent compliments. Ray's face was a picture of agony, all scrunched up and red as he clutched his battered face, glad he was indestructible since the kid had a lot of rage in that striped shirt of hers. 

And she didn't stop there. Chapa backhanded him several times, slapping the hero silly to ensure he was listening. She knew what he was like when he started thinking about his pretty little wife and how he'd never stop daydreaming if someone didn't intervene. His skin stung from the vicious assault, dazing Ray until he gathered his thoughts enough to push her away, wondering what he did to deserve such punishment. 

"Ow! Stop slapping me! I'm listening!" He whined, scurrying away into the safety of his wife's arms, where (y/n) cooed and soothingly ran the back of her fingers down his warm flesh. A kiss on the cheek and the pain fleeted, leaving his face rosy and flushed for another reason. 

"We are crime fighters! We can't have a couple a' bus station biscuits sniffin' around here, or we can't respond to emergency calls!" Chapa told everyone sharply, her glare so fierce that even the couple shrank under it, pausing their affection - for now. 

"That's true, I guess..." (y/n) shrugged, knowing she was right. Percy and Miriam were lovely, but it would be difficult to explain why they all had to head out so abruptly and often; it would undoubtedly lead to exposure, something they couldn't risk. 

"I don't care how many fake compliments they give us," the fiery girl continued, eying the man beside her, who gasped and clutched at his breastbone at such an insinuation - he didn't care what anyone said; his wife was hot. 

"How dare you..."

"Or how many fake winks we get!" She hissed, looking at Mika this time, who whimpered at the thought of her wink, eying for show. She knew Percy wasn't like that--that Chapa was just being her usual, callous self, but deep down, she couldn't argue. 

"They were real!"

"She's so mean..." Ray grumbled, forgetting who he was talking about and that she was beside him. Chapa raised her hand at him aggressively, threatening him with another round of happy slaps before (y/n) intervened, flashing everyone her cheery, disarming smile. Maybe what the English kids said about her was true, but all that other stuff...

"Hey, don't you hit my doofus," she warned the girl, prodding her pal until Chapa relented. She'd let the guy off the hook...for now, allowing (y/n) to continue as her husband patted her hip in thanks. 

"Okay, so Mika and I have a non-violent plan that only includes a little paperwork. Easy-peasy, squeeze the lemon, so--"

"AYYYYE!" A strange voice came from above, interrupting the woman as she shrieked and ducked out of the way. She sought shelter in Ray's embrace, gasping as a figure hit the floor and stared at them all with big, round eyes, whitish skin, an alien-like head--oh, it was just Schwoz.

The stupid little coconut-head was hiding in the rafters like a goddamn bat, listening to the conversation since he had some critical news--although he couldn't just use the door like ordinary people. As they all recovered from their mini-heart attacks, he shook off the landing, surprisingly agile for a cooped-up nerd. 

"We've already missed three emergency calls since those kids got here!" The genius announced, skipping the pleasantries and baffled questions as to where he'd dropped from. The bleak news pulled groans from everyone, knowing that once the emergencies piled up, it was almost impossible to fix them without some serious work. 

"See? Swellview needs us! So, get out there, be mean to those new kids, and send them back to the bus station! Who's with me?" Chapa growled, having little sympathy for the brats when they'd already caused so much trouble. And her friends agreed, feeling terrible for what they had to do, but it was necessary. 

Yet no one, except for Schwoz, put their hand up, anxious to do wrong to do right, so the girl got a little creative. One warning of her palm in the air, and they jumped to it, agreeing keenly since no one wanted a beating like Ray's, seeing how it seared his skin and sprung tears in his eyes. 

"Did they use a bucket?" Miles murmured, still hung up on the bus station toilet debacle. Still, his sister pulled him out of the room before anyone could answer. 

Miriam and Percy were beginning to get lonely and confused, wondering where everyone went, so they filed out, leaving the happy couple with Chapa as Ray glared at her. His face still ached, tender and scarlet from her angry fists. For someone who was used to being the boss, she didn't relish his authority very much, but they'd soon see about that--

"Hey, listen. I let those slaps go last time, but next time--Ahhh!" The hero tried to confront her, but she was having none of it. Before he could give her the scolding she deserved, her wrist flicked out again, striking his cheek painfully and drying up his words. 

"Chapa!" (y/n) warned sharply as her lover gritted his teeth and tried not to show weakness. If only she was that good with criminals, he'd be out of a job...

However, she didn't seem apologetic or remorseful, wearing her typical glare, even as her favoured teacher gave her a stern look. Whilst she respected Miss Danger more than Captain Man, she still hated being dictated to, and Chapa turned on her heel before they could have a chance to punish her. What were they gonna do? Send her back to regular school where her powers could be exposed? Yeah, right...

"I'll see you guys out there..." And with that, she stomped away, taking her mask and chainsaw with her and leaving the spouses alone. She was ready to wreak havoc, slipping back into the classroom without much fuss, and even though time was of the essence, the couple couldn't help but relish the brief glimpse of peace. 

*Spicy from here. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.*

Realising they were alone - or as alone they could be in a school full of rioting children - they fell together, (y/n)'s hand on his cheek to soothe Chapa's assault. The kids were merely behind the brick wall, chattering away amongst themselves as the hero gripped his wife's waist and pulled her close, feeling like melting into her embrace and saying to hell with the world. 

He nosed her hair, sighing deeply as she stroked his warm skin, tittering how she could sense the sting underneath her palm. But honestly, Ray could barely feel it, leaving the mild injury to his indestructibility to deal with since he had everything he needed in his arms, drained from the last few days of constant disarray and relentless voices clamouring for their attention. 

Although they hadn't been teaching very long - three weeks max - the couple quickly learned the price of solitude, learning that the essence of silence was golden. 

No screams, no arguments, no insults or snappy comebacks. Just holding each other and appreciating the stillness - a moment of grounding for the both of them. 

"This is nice..." Ray muttered, pressing his lips to her neck as she exhaled - a long, heavy breath carrying the world's weight. He knew she was stressed, seeing how her shoulders slumped and her head fell forward, knocking his shoulder as he curled his arms around her delicate figure. Like a leaf shaking in the wind. 

"We're hugging in a broom cupboard with a class full of children who want to kill each other," (y/n) replied dryly, voice muffled in his jacket's lapel. Still, despite her monotone response, she didn't let go, clutching at his body and nuzzling into his chest, secretly loving how he'd dabbed a little cologne on his cravat before haphazardly tying and stuffing it down his shirt. 

She couldn't help but feel sarcastic and snappy, tired from days of constant pressure and problems. Her clothes were too stuffy and restrictive, her toes longing to wriggle free from her heels, but they had to soldier on to save the school. A miserable, lamentable thought. 

"You want me to stop?" Ray hummed, but he didn't let go. Never. He knew her answer, stroking her hair as she whined and snuggled closer. 

"No..." she sounded pathetic, arms loosely curled around his torso as he chuckled. 

"I can hear you worrying..." the man whispered, beginning to sway slightly when a deafening shriek vibrated through the brickwork. It sounded girlish and shrill - possibly Mika or Miriam - and was almost certainly the work of Chapa and her creepy Halloween mask. 

They ignored it, pretending there was cotton wool in their ears whilst the bedlam reigned next door, anything for a second longer to themselves. Ray's lips found her cheek and temple, lips chirping like songbirds as he smooched against her skin, the ticklish sensation making (y/n)'s nose wrinkle and mouth twitch upwards. 

"I wouldn't say it's worrying...more stewing."

"So, Bose is obsessed with soup, and you like stew?" He was a doofus, making his wife roll her eyes and limply thwack his shoulder. Yet a smile was growing on her face because it was such a Ray thing to say. It was stupid, and his voice held that forever confused lilt like everything was a puzzle to him, but it was cute and endearing. She pulled her head up to look at him like he was adorable, not stupid.

"No, silly doofus..." (y/n) giggled, pecking his lips briefly when he smiled proudly, simply because he made her happy. 

"I'm just...we've barely spent any time together this week."

"Sure, we have. We're together all the time." Ray frowned, knowing he'd be fuming if he'd been denied his sweet girl all week. They'd eaten together, slept next to each other, woken up to each other, shared breakfast, co-taught classes, sorted through the bills--just done the usual married couple stuff. 

It was tedious and stressful, balancing work and home life in one building, but they were okay - together like always. 

"With children around us. Screaming. Fighting. Telling us we're wrong while they know everything." (y/n), however, begged to differ. She wasn't stupid, but perhaps just a little paranoid. 

This was the road to a loveless marriage, all work and no play, which terrified her. Her fingers squeezed his shoulders, deeply worried at the thought of drifting apart, and it had only been a handful of days of little affection. Of course, the kids meant well, but they were the anti-romantics. They had to find secret clinches in cupboards when the Man Cave was their territory--their place to rendezvous. 

"I just want one evening where it's me and you, no interruptions, just...us stuff."

"Okay, then, how about we watch a movie tonight? Rom-com? You pick?" Ray suggested softly, hands sliding down to grip her waist, thumbs rubbing above her hipbones. She laughed breathily, glancing at her feet before finding those blue eyes again, spinning a lock of his hair around her finger - she was hunting. 

"I was thinking something else..." she countered, sounding sultry and soft like butter.

"Okay, how about I run you a bubble bath? I'll use the fancy soap..." The hero countered, the invitation flying over his head and into the wall, making his wife's eyebrows twitch. Pursing her lips, she tried again, eager to have him to herself, although she didn't usually have to work for it. 

"Maybe something we could do together?" She proposed, tongue darting out to moisten her lips, tummy fluttering when his eyes watched the motion. 

The pinkish glimpse of her inner bottom lip teased him as she whined and draped her arms around his neck, chest pressed against his so he could feel her lace undergarment poking through. 

"How about Twister? We haven't played it since Henry fell on top of Charlotte, and they almost--" But, for one so smooth when in action, Ray was dense--like the plank of wood they carved his brain out of. 

(y/n) groaned at his innocent stare, desperately wishing she'd see two blackened eyes hungrily gazing back. She knew why she felt so run down now, flipping through the calendar in her brain to mark the last time she got dicked down. It had been days ago, practically a lifetime, for someone with an incubus at her fingertips, and it frustrated her. 

Just an hour was all it would take, but that was few and far between when her husband thought more of bubble baths and board games than a night between the sheets. He withered at her displeasure, wondering where he went wrong, but (y/n) supposed she'd have to spell it out for him. 

"Sex, Raymond. I want to have sex!" She exclaimed, holding his pink cheeks and boring into his eyes as his lips parted in surprise. Typically, he was the forward one, plodding in like an elephant when he craved her pleasure. But this made him think, cogs ticking for a moment before he raised an eyebrow--as confused and doofy as always. 

"...With me?"

"No, I was thinking with some other floppy-haired doofus who wears cute t-shirts," his sweet girl retorted dryly, rolling her eyes because that was the first thing he said. Rizzmaster Ray was back, the smoothest operator in Swellview. 

"Of course, I meant you."

"Oh!... You think I'm cute?" He grinned cheekily, practically buzzing with enamouring, boyish charm as he basked in her love. It made him feel special, every moment like the first when he realised that she wanted to do grown-up things...with him! He still got butterflies, and they blocked out the arguing in the next room as they giggled. 

"I think you're adorable, but that's beside the point," (y/n) noted, casting her mind back to when he had her in their bed, waking her up the right way. "Y'know, we were a little rushed the other day..."

"Don't even get me started..." Ray groaned, closing his eyes and seeing her gorgeous body painted on his eyelids. Her thighs muffling his world, eyes closed, mouth open, her body in the morning light - he'd never been more thankful for windows, wondering what he'd missed in their old home's artificial glare. 

"And you didn't even get a chance to fuck me...You know I was walking funny for an hour after. Made me cum so hard, Captain..." Her mouth was hot against his ear, dipping low - barely above a whisper - and gentle as her fingers ran down his throat and chest, igniting fire where they touched. It was like a secret between them, navels pushed together as he inhaled sharply, one hand resting on her ass warningly. 

"Tell me why I shouldn't get you on your knees right now..." he growled, kneading whatever flesh he could reach as her lips ghosted his, barely brushing together. He didn't care if time was precious; so was she, and she could handle the problem she caused. 

"You could..." the woman hummed, fingertips dangerously dancing down the line of buttons on his shirt, passing his belly button. 

"Think you deserve a little attention. I could just drop right now and suck you off. Wrap my lips around your cock until you're cumming down my throat--wouldn't take long. Know why?"

"Fuck---why?" Ray asked thickly, choking when she cupped him through his suit pants, grinning like a vixen when she felt his turgid length. She wasn't the only one feeling a little...pent-up after missing her body the past few days. 

"'Cause you haven't taken your eyes off my ass in this skirt once. Don't think I haven't seen you drooling over it..." she teased, gently stroking against his length, smirking when he grew beneath her touch until he strained against the stiff, navy material. 

"Makes me so fucking hard..." He didn't need to confess; she knew it--saw it in the way he tilted his head back and spoke in feeble groans, swallowing with a dry mouth as she ran kisses down his neck. They stumbled around the room, bumping into the old chalkboard until a suspicious, ass-shaped smudge ran across it, not that they cared. 

Ray was desperate to find a surface--any surface where he could bend her over and take his fill. Pots clattered on the floor as they jostled, more taken with wandering hands and rough kisses than watching where they were going. Yet he couldn't find purchase and settled for holding her figure against his, debating if the floor would be any good as she squeezed his outline. 

"Wanna suck your cock so bad, doofus." She purred, throaty and wet, as he gasped, sweat dappling on his brow from the desperation. Three days was too long when he was so used to having her daily. 

"Get on your knees, then."

"Of course, Captain--tonight," (y/n) promised, smirking wickedly as she wrenched her hands away and stepped back, fighting the urge to do as he said. Submitting would be too easy, and she still hadn't forgotten how he'd left her legless and delirious that morning, boasting about his new record. 

This was his just reward, standing there with an obvious tenting in his riding trousers, even though it felt like punishment for her, too. An ache settled between her thighs, calling for her husband to do his husbandly duties. Still, she refrained, glancing at her elegant watch and baulking at the time. Goodness! The children! The scandal!

"What?--Sweet girl, w-what? Come back!" Ray yelped, feeling like he could collapse. His eyes almost fell out of his head when the electricity between them vanished - burning passion turning frigid as she backed off. 

He stared after her, lightheaded and dazed as his cock throbbed, but she made no move to seduce him any further. He hoped, begged, and prayed that she was stripping that blouse and skirt off, but she merely straightened the wrinkled suit, smoothing the arms and patting down her ruffled hair before turning on her heel. And it was like a punch to the butterflies in his gut. 

It was like nothing had happened at all, his wife looking like the respectable lady she always was as she glanced at the door to the classroom. Her eyes settled on his rapidly rising and falling chest before drifting to the apex of his thighs, and he swore she licked her lips, but it must've been a mind trick. After all, he stood in shambles as she grinned wickedly, proud of the mess she'd made. 

"We have a class to teach, Raymond. The children are expecting us, so I'll see you out there," (y/n) told him curtly as she rested a hand on the doorknob, knowing he'd need a second to sort himself out. Perhaps it was a little evil, and her lusting heart cursed her for ruining its fun before it started, but she promised it would be worth it. 

Tonight, when they fell into bed with all their worries over, he'd pin her down and... That would be worth the wait. 

"Wha--hey! (y/n)! Fuck!" Although she could've told him that. Ray cursed and nearly tripped over his feet as he watched his wife slink out of the room, surrounding herself with children to ensure he couldn't hunt her down and bend her over a desk. 

It was the world's best defence, yet he found himself defenceless, knowing it would look suspicious if she began teaching without him. He had a few minutes at most, staring longingly at the door she disappeared through and feeling her lips on his again. 

Tonight can't come soon enough, Ray thought, sliding down the wall with a hand pressed against his forehead. He wouldn't find release now; even though he wanted to, he'd wait for the opportune moment, turning his thoughts elsewhere, banishing those of his precious wife next door, flaunting herself in that skirt. 

That goddamn skirt. 

Out in the classroom, the kids bickered amongst themselves but were thankfully sat at their desks as (y/n) sauntered in. 

There was a cocky swing to her hips, a spring in her step, and a bright smile as she faced her pupils, although four were slightly confused at Ray's disappearance. Percy and Miriam sat on the rickety, old health hazards Bose had found, the boy in the wheelchair and the girl on the termite stool. They looked uncomfortable but didn't show it, beaming back pleasantly, eager to learn as the heroine thought about what they could do. 

The plan was to make them want to leave - the thought alone was enough to make her tummy feel queasy - and whilst (y/n) didn't like the idea of being mean, she didn't let it show, except for rubbing her sweaty palms. 

"Where's Ray?" Mika asked, blinking innocently as her teacher paused beside her desk, pursing her lips and thinking rapidly. She froze, stuttering as Danger Force looked at her strangely - some more clued in than others. 

"Um...he's tying his shoelaces," the woman replied dumbly, but it was all she could think of on her feet. The newcomers seemed to buy it, bobbing and nodding gently as they tried to get comfy on their chairs. Chapa didn't believe it, still looking creepy in her Halloween mask. 

"He was wearing boots..." she remarked dryly, and her friends followed suit. As confident as that skirt suit made her, she was acting weird. Miles craned his head around her body to try and peek into the cupboard, wondering where the hero had disappeared. But (y/n) wouldn't let him, jumping into his view before he could spot anything, chuckling nervously as she looked for a distraction. 

"Boots can have laces..." she said anxiously before spotting a mini whiteboard tucked into a corner. A small smile spread across her cheeks as she pulled it out in the middle of the room, gesturing for the kids to nudge their desks around to face it. 

"No, they don't."

"Where's Teacher?" Miriam asked sweetly, peering up at the lovely lady with her round, hazel eyes, making her stumble a little. How could one lie to a face like that? But (y/n) had to try, gulping the lump in her throat as Mika followed her every move, sensing that Ray was...up to something. 

"Uh, he's coming. A problem...came up."

"A problem?" Bose asked, eyelashes fluttering as his desk span around, forming a neat little circle with the others as the woman set up everything in the centre for her and Ray to teach. 

She adjusted the board, found some dry-erase markers, and dragged one of her husband's beloved bouncy ball chairs for him to bounce on. The day's lesson was supposed to be math, not her doofus' strongest subject, but she loved it, practically buzzing at the thought of numbers and such. Scribbling the word on the board, she hoped he wouldn't be too long, knowing she wasn't good at this lying thing. 

"Yeah, I guess..."

"Is it a big problem, Miss?" Percy inquired, worried that his instructor was having difficulties. If anything was wrong, he'd be the first to volunteer, although his frown deepened when Mrs Manchester snorted and coughed, a wobbly smile struggling to stay off her face. What was wrong with her now?

"You could say that..." (y/n) giggled to herself quietly, picturing her grumpy lover and his problem. She had no idea how he was dealing with it, but her tummy fluttered at what her brain conjured up. While she was squealing like a schoolgirl, the kids exchanged some bored and mildly disgusted glances, putting two and two together and then stopping. They didn't dare imagine what she was grinning about. 

"Do we even want to know?"

"No--it's nothing. We--I mean, he--I mean...nothing. Oh look, it's Professor Manchester, everybody," the heroine stammered before catching a glimpse of her husband. He strolled out of the cupboard like nothing was wrong, crossing his jacket across his chest and clearing his throat - nothing out of the ordinary, save for his dark eyes. 

They landed on his sweet girl, or so he deemed her, shooting her a knowing look as he approached to give her a chaste kiss and fleeting embrace, ready to educate. His hands squeezed her hips as he greeted the children, pretending nothing was wrong when they chatted and squirmed in their seats excitedly. 

"The minute we're alone, sweet girl..." he whispered hotly, mouth beside her ear so the kids couldn't hear him. A shiver ran through her body as she looked up at him and nodded weakly, pupils dilating and heart racing. 

"Okay, everybody, settle down. It's learning time..." (y/n) called to the kids, clapping her hands to mask how she fanned her warm cheeks. That man would be the death of her, never once straying from behind her as she beamed at the group. Together again, she lit up the room with her doofus, knowing he'd probably had to coach himself into calming down - dull thoughts of taxes, golf, and politicians. 

"Right, you are, pretty girl," Ray sighed, still all soft and gooey-eyed for his wife, even if she liked to tease him in closets like that.

"Now, children, what is math? Can you touch it? Can you hold it in your hand? If you shake it, would it rattle?"

"I don't think I've ever shaken math, doofus," his wife retorted with a bemused smile, lightly gripping his arm. He was adorable, pretending like he knew anything about the subject as she felt his biceps. Luckily, the kids followed anything he said, ignoring the lesson yet eager to trick Percy and Miriam into leaving, even if they were ever so lovely. 

"Over the next forty-five minutes, we're gonna find out together the answer to all these questions and more... And I think, along the way, we're gonna have a little bit of fun," the man told the children dreamily, booping his darling wife's nose, making her wrinkle it like a bunny. 

Meanwhile, as he talked nonsense, Chapa sneakily reached across to the keenly listening Brits, handing her hands behind the desk as she lightly zapped both with a small burst of lightning. Percy and Miriam jumped, freezing in their painful seats as all their hairs stood on end, shocked by what had just mysteriously happened. 

"Ahh!"

"Good heavens! My termite bench just gave me quite a shock!" Miriam gasped, her brother too stunned to speak for a minute. 

"Bet it hurt, right?" Chapa questioned darkly, peering at the polite children behind her creepy, babyish mask. But they didn't appear too troubled, annoyingly refusing to stand up from the infested wood since that would be terribly rude and discourteous to their generous hosts. 

"Indeed, it did," Percy nodded, only for his ginger sister to stop him, a gentle look coming over her. 

"But you know, Percy, that brief pain made me grateful for all the time I'm not in pain!" She sighed, practically angelic in everything she did and said, as her fellow students smacked their foreheads and internally groaned. What kind of kid thought like that? She had to be hiding a saint under that headscarf, fluttering her eyelashes innocently as her rosy, freckled cheeks twitched into a smile - almost heaven-sent. 

"Quite so! It seems like the lessons at this school go beyond what can be learned from books alone."

"What?" (y/n) murmured dryly, quirking an eyebrow at the boy and his Gospel-like ridiculous words. She placed her hands on Ray's shoulders as he plopped onto the bouncy chair, leaning his arms on the backrest while he, too, gave the orphans a bored glance. She almost felt bad for them, wondering what they'd endured to be grateful for the absence of pain. Still, Percy was just annoying - kissing ass with his smarmy ideas. 

"May I also say I love your festive mask!" Miriam told Chapa kindly, the disguise's creepiness barely affecting her as she beamed like sunshine. It was sickening to the cold, callous girl, who growled as they tried another trick. 

"Yeah, I love yours, too..." She sassed, much to the English girl's confusion, but she quickly saw what Bose was trying to do, spotting a pencil high above their heads. Something more menacing would've been better, but the boy could barely lift the graphite, so she laid the acting on thick.

"Look! A floating pencil!"

"Oh no, this place is haunted!..." Ray remarked tiredly, barely using a tenth of Chapa's excitement since he was too entranced by his wife's light massage, her fingers expertly kneading the knots in his shoulders. He needed it more than he realised, practically purring putty in her hands as Percy and Miriam gawped at the hovering pencil, wondering which spirit was haunting them. And surprisingly, they were superstitious, buying the deception without a doubt, more like a reverent trust. 

"Souuuuup!" Bose groaned quietly, hoping the new students didn't notice his twitching hands or ghostly noises. Still, thankfully, they were too bewitched to notice or care. To them, this was a sign from the dead, and who were they to ignore such a command?

"Spirits? Can you hear us? Tell Princess Diana that our country misses her so!" Miriam begged the floating pencil, sounding utterly ridiculous but sweet with her innocence. 

"Seriously? Lady Diana?" (y/n) scoffed, her hands settling on Ray's shoulders at the sight of--was that tears in their eyes? She didn't know why they'd want to cry over a woman dead for nearly thirty or why such a royal lady would haunt a pencil. Still, no one could tell them anything - a painful view for her and Mika, the Smarties. 

"And we hope she's having all the soup her heart desires!" That was the final straw. Bose released the pencil with a huff, slumping in his seat like Chapa when Percy faced the soup ghost head-on rather than fleeing, obviously not frightened. It was frustrating, yet...

"I'm sorry. I can't get over this..." Miles spoke before turning to the kids as if he couldn't cope with their relentless good manners. "When you were at the bus station, where did you go to the bathroom?!"

"Seriously? That's the bit you're still focusing on?" Miss Danger asked him flatly, fingertips dancing around Ray's freshly shaven throat and jaw. The boy couldn't let it go, pleading with a baffled Miriam and Percy to tell him where they...went, even though it was obvious. 

And amongst the termite stool, soup ghost, and Diana, Princess of Goddamn Wales, he still wanted to know which was Ray's last straw. 

"All right, that's it! Test of strength!" He declared, abruptly standing from his bouncy chair, despite how it felt to be under his wife's touch. The longer he sat and listened to them spouting their accented gibberish, the longer he had to wait until he could throw her on their mattress, so he took action, stomping over to the high striker. 

Bose helped Mika push her desk out of the way, creating more room for whichever unfortunate soul the headmaster chose to use his contraption. (y/n) closely behind, standing in front of a highly bored Schwoz and wondering what her lover had planned - whatever it was, it wouldn't be good. 

"You, Benedict Cumberbutt! Get up here!" He ordered Percy curtly, but the short boy didn't grumble like any polite person. He rose from the antique wheelchair and quickly hobbled over to his teacher, ready and willing to do whatever was instructed. 

"Take this hammer. Hit that, and try to get Professor Schwoz to ring the bell."

"Hello!" Schwoz waved at the puzzled children, who'd seen many strange things in their brief yet tumultuous lives, but the fuzzy little weirdo had to be one of the most peculiar. Still, Percy didn't argue, taking an old, woodworm-riddled hammer from Ray, which he had to use all his might to lift high above his head. 

"I shall try my level my best!"

"Um, doofus, are you sure this is safe? Will it even make them leave?" (y/n) hissed worriedly as he urged her to move back, ensuring he was in front of her for when the boy whacked the target. She glanced at how Percy strained to raise the hammer, looking like he was about to topple over, and she didn't want to know what would happen to Schwoz, aware of Ray's favourite tricks. 

Yet he gathered her in his arms once she and the other kids were far enough away, kissing her gently as he enjoyed her body against his. Perhaps it was a little mean, but he was sure it would drive them out, and Schwoz would survive. Probably. 

"See the head on that hammer?" He whispered in her ear before pecking the inch of skin below it. 

"I swapped it out with a Bolivian Boom Stone."

"Please, tell me you didn't..." (y/n) sighed, hiding behind her hands, although she couldn't help but peek through her fingers as her husband giggled impishly into her neck. No wonder he looked so excited, nearly trembling as he squeezed her waist and smooched her throat before eyeing Percy, who was ready to hit the target. 

"Shhhh! Here we go!" He squealed, curling around her protectively as the clueless children watched closely. 

"For the Princess!" Percy cried, hitching the hammer over his shoulder before he slammed it down with a mighty swing. The second it hit the high striker, the head exploded in a powerful, blue fireball, sending sparks, smoke, and dust through the air - him, too. The poor kid was blasted through the roof, coming down and landing on the cold, hard floor with a dull thud as Miriam gasped in horror. 

(y/n) doubted that Lady Di would be impressed with that performance. 

"My brother!" The young girl shrieked, running over to Percy's side with a wretched expression. 

"My knitting!" Schwoz whimpered, too, although he wasn't cooked like the boy was - just a little smoky. Percy was toast, though, lying on the tiles, moaning and groaning, covered in soot. He was dazed and confused, swearing he couldn't see, think, or hear correctly, yet he clambered to his feet, hunched over a desk for support as his sister tittered and fussed. 

They had no idea what had happened, but they always grinned and bore the pain with good humour and a sweet smile. 

"It's okay! I've always wanted to fly!" He exclaimed happily, a slight groan in his voice, but he was irritatingly resilient, making the Danger Force team groan and curse the day he was born. Even if Miriam was delighted that he was okay, they were devastated, barely holding back their grumbles since nothing they did could make them leave. 

The school day was nearly over, and they'd have to try again tomorrow, but not before dealing with the dozens of emergencies that came through while entertaining Little Miss Muffet and her brother. Ray's wishes for a quiet moment wouldn't come true so soon...

~Early the following day ~

In all her days as a superhero, (y/n) had never experienced such a rough night. 

Percy and Miriam didn't budge from their respective stool or chairs. They listened intently to whatever the Danger Force team threw their way until the final bell rang to signal school was out. Walking out the doors with bright smiles and cheery waves, they promised to return tomorrow, which Ray couldn't wait for, especially since he had to go into the city to fight crime. 

His special night turned into a disaster when they saw the mountain of emergency calls on the supercomputer, waiting for whichever hero to respond. There were dozens of voicemails, more than he'd ever left hanging. He had no choice but to apologise to his precious wife before sending her and the kids on missions. 

Intimacy was forgotten, and so was that moment alone, and whilst (y/n) didn't complain, taking Chapa to go and save a hippie in a tree, she was disappointed. And that made him mad, meaning that by the time the sun crept over the hills, he was beyond pissed - borderline insane. 

An agonising twelve hours later, the crew trudged into the Man's Nest, where Schwoz had napped, waiting for their return. It was nice that someone could sleep - poor Mika could barely keep her eyes open as she arrived in the tubes, every inch of her body hurting. 

"Kill me. Kill me now..." (y/n) grumbled as they hobbled down the steps, barely functioning after back-to-back missions and zero sleep. She tried to power-nap during the brief intermissions between rescues but never switched off, so she cried out for her bed, even if it wasn't how she and Ray had hoped. 

The kids grunted in agreement as they shuffled onto the floor, their Captain clumsily following behind them with his eyes barely open. He'd been uncharacteristically silent during the trip back, slumping on his wife's shoulder as she navigated the route home. Still, everyone was too tired to notice his maddened ramblings and bizarre behaviour. 

"I'm so tired..." Mika groaned before yawning, so sleepy that she accidentally activated her super-scream. A small shockwave rumbled through the air, hitting Schwoz where he napped - upside from a pole across the ceiling, looking like a goddamn bat. It couldn't be comfortable, sleeping with all the blood rushing to his brain, but it was just another weird Schwoz habit, even if no one could get used to it. 

"Sorry..." She told him tiredly when he hit the floor with a squeak, wondering what had hit him as he scrambled to his feet, clad in thick, navy blue plaid pyjamas. 

But it wasn't entirely her fault; even Miles was affected, stretching as he yawned, and when he raised his arm, he accidentally teleported, spooking his sister when he appeared beside her in a flash of light and slumped on the couch. 

"Where have you beens all night?" Schwoz asked, having fallen asleep waiting for them, and it hadn't been a restful period. 

"Fighting crime..." Bose replied, and if any of them felt any better, they would've been ecstatic to tell the genius all about it. The adults couldn't do it single-handedly, so for once, Ray and (y/n) relented, allowing them to deal with minor emergencies. At the same time, they took the big stuff like robberies, villains, and murders, which really affected the guy. 

Ray muttered gibberish as he mushed his face into his sweet girl's shoulder and collapsed over the couch, scrubbing his gloved hand over his face. (y/n) absentmindedly petted his ruffled hair, head jerking when she nearly nodded off, standing up. Yet she refused to fall asleep when everyone else still worked, no matter if she was a walking vegetable. 

"We had to take care of all the emergencies we missed during the day when Percy and Miriam were here," Chapa explained, ignoring how weird her mentor was acting, assuming that he was just snuggling with (y/n/n) like he always did--and they'd all learned to look over that. 

"Well, ten more emergencies came in while you were gone," Schwoz revealed, much to their horror. It was only a tiny amount, but they had nothing to give, feeling ready to collapse since it took the rest of their energy reserves to keep talking. 

But, while they all groaned, something weird happened. Ray flinched upward, standing oddly straight as he growled at no one as if he were having an argument with thin air. His lips moved, but no words came out; it sounded like a conversation as he clumsily pawed at his wife before bumbling across the room toward the front door. 

"What's wrong with Ray?" Bose asked, wondering where the hero was going in such a hurry when he'd worked himself half to death. 

"Oh no..." Schwoz gulped worriedly, staring after the man as he grumpily pushed through the glass doors, seemingly looking for something. 

He glanced at (y/n), who'd not even noticed his disappearance as she bent over at a ninety-degree angle onto the couch, dozing with her arms resting on the squishy backrest. She just wanted to close her eyes for a second, humming contently as sleep crept into her mushy mess of a brain.

"Is that a good oh no?"

"Oh, no, no! It's a bad one! (y/n/n), did you not put Ray down for a nap last night?" The small man panicked as he dashed over to the woman's side, poking her in the ribs to try and keep her awake. 

She grumbled throatily, swatting at his hand as she tried to resume her mini-nap; she deserved one. While he'd had a peaceful night, she'd been walking - in heels - for nine hours straight, had been puked on by a drunk man, choked by a wannabe supervillain, and had fought with a sumo wrestler over a turkey sandwich. She deserved that nap. 

But Schwoz wouldn't let up, grabbing her by the forearms and roughly shaking some consciousness into her because they had a different kind of emergency on their hands. Everyone assumed that Ray just liked getting his wife into bed, often seen dozing with her whenever they had a free moment, whether it be on the couch or in their room, but he needed that sleep. His superpower took a lot out of him, and bad things happened when he couldn't hold her in his arms...

"(y/n), wake up! Did you and Ray have a nap last night?!"

"Does it look like I had a nap last night? Now...Ray--Ray--Ray--Ray-Ray...My hubby, Ray..." She hummed, looking utterly stupid with that dopey grin, grumpy about not sleeping, but talking about her lover made her so silly, smiling like an idiot as she tried to think.

"Um...He likes sleeping. Sleeps on the right side of the bed. Doesn't like pyjamas. Uses..." she yawned loudly and abruptly, "peppermint toothpaste. Likes the room freezing cold 'cause he's this big...warm...doo--doofus."

"Yes, but did he have a nap?!" Schwoz asked exasperatedly, patting her cheek to try and make her focus. He didn't care if she knew his nighttime routine like the back of her hand, only that it was usually her job to ensure he got enough sleep. God knows that man would run around all day if no one was there to tempt him into the bedroom. 

"Um...no?" She offered awkwardly, suddenly feeling a little soberer as her skin stung, and a terrible realisation dawned on her. "Oh, shit... I completely forgot about his nap! We were just so busy, and he seemed fine... This is bad."

"Why?" Miles asked quietly, frowning when he watched the woman rake her shaky fingers through her tussled hair, eyes bloodshot and wide. She was panicking, hugging her body, when her bottom lip wobbled like she'd done something terrible. She looked guilty and scared as she craned toward the doors, hoping to spot her husband before he went berserk. 

"If Ray doesn't get enough sleep, he turns bad until he can sleep again! And believe me, he gets real grumpy if (y/n) isn't with him!" 

"Like a good bad?" Mika asked meekly, making Schwoz look at her dryly. They didn't understand how bad this was, going beyond a quick cuddle on the couch. His dark glare made the kids shrink back, sensing the girl was clutching at straws, hoping against hope that it was a happy sneer. 

"Remember Roy, who wanted to take candy from that handsome baby?" 

"I remember Roy..." Chapa remarked when Schwoz smirked and wiggled his eyebrows, smoothing his ego when they should've been worrying about Ray. He was poking around the front porch, digging through his wife's pretty flowerbeds like a dog searching for a buried bone. It made her glance at him worriedly when he growled some indecipherable curse. 

"Yeah, he was like Ray, but evil," Miles noted, knowing he'd never forget the man's weird performance, especially that moustache. But, despite how funny he was and primarily unthreatening, the idea of an evil Captain Man terrified the children because it wouldn't be make-believe. He'd try to hurt people and behave cruelly - the anti-doofus - making them shudder at the thought. 

"That's what happens to Ray if he doesn't get enough sleep," (y/n) sighed, holding her clammy cheeks as she shook her head sadly, scolding herself for not seeing the signs because she was merely exhausted. 

And, speaking of the devil, Ray burst through the door, stumbling down the steps like a drunkard, heading for the group with a vicious snarl. He said something, sounding like he was talking to Chapa. Still, no one could work out what he was saying, slurring his words until her name and laughing sounded like gibberish - either way, he looked furiously determined. 

"Schwoz! Do you still keep your flesh-eating bacteria in this old mayonnaise jar?" He asked through a yawn, knocking into his sweet girl as she stared at him in alarm, terrified that he even wanted to hold that much in his hand. It was one of the genius' more revolting experiments, and she didn't like to mess with it, having watched the lethal gunge strip melt the meat off a chicken drumstick in ten seconds flat. 

"No, doofus, don't touch that!" She ordered him, tentatively reaching out to take it off him before he did himself mischief, but Ray refused. He whined at her defiantly, sounding like a moody child as he pulled the jar out of her reach and unscrewed the lid. Everyone jumped back in terror when the bacteria breathed fresh air, quietly hissing and fizzing like they whispered for flesh, and no one fancied being its dinner. 

"Answered my own question. I'mma go throw it on those kids." Ray sniffed casually, spinning clumsily on his heel as if he was going to hunt down Percy and Miriam, wherever they lived, and coat them in that goop... 

As annoying as they were, no one deserved that, making his friends cringe and scream when he tried to walk away. 

"No, Roy--I mean, Ray, you shouldn't do that!" (y/n) told him, reaching out to catch his arm before he could stomp away. Luckily, the man couldn't ignore his precious girl, even in his drained state, turning around to meet her eye with a dumb expression. He looked rough, hair all unkempt and fluffy - so unlike his usual groomed mane - and his skin looked dull and blotchy, but he tried his best to focus on his wife when his heart pulled toward her. 

"Why not, darlin'?" He pouted, behaving only because she was watching. 

"Um...it might get on you, and I don't want to ruin this handsome face!" She laughed nervously, cupping his cheeks whilst edging away from the putrid jar, which she swore hissed at her. He sighed at her touch, head lolling forward like he could go to sleep right then and there, but he refused, shaking his body to snap out of it - although laying down with her for a little while didn't sound so bad. 

"I'm indestructible...and so tired!" He yawned, moving to kiss her forehead, but it was more of a headbutt, making (y/n) yelp. As she rubbed her sore skull, the doofus plodded away, swearing he didn't need to sleep because he had a job to get rid of those British kids if it was the last thing he did. 

"But it still might eat off all of your hair!" Schwoz called after him, matching the heroine's worry when the man headed toward the door again. 

"No! Not the floppy floof!" (y/n) whimpered childishly, stamping her foot as her exhaustion made her stroppy. She pouted and crossed her arms, looking like a scolded toddler at the thought of losing one of her favourite doofy features. But Ray wasn't listening, even as the bacteria hungered for sustenance. 

"Shut up, bacteria! Leave me alone! My wife says I'm so...handsome!" He rambled, pushing the door open with a limp arm as he cradled the mayo jar to his chest. 

His sweet girl longed to go after him, feeling weepy and tired that she had jelly legs, so it was up to Schwoz to chase after him while the kids rallied around her. 

"Okay, new problem. We can't let Ray throw that flesh-eating bacteria on Percy and Miriam," Mika sighed, patting the woman soothingly on the back as her friends agreed, even Chapa. She was mean and ruthless, but she only wanted to scare them away, not melt them like butter, so, as much as it played against her morals, she knew they had to stop the man. 

And that wouldn't be easy after staying up all night. 

"Step one--we stay awake. If we fall asleep, we can't protect Percy and Miriam." She nodded, steeling herself and ignoring her desperate wish to curl up in a ball and sleep. It was okay; she'd pulled all-nighters before, although it wasn't on a school night. 

"You sure? You guys haven't stopped since yesterday afternoon," (y/n) fretted, noticing the bags under their eyes and how droopy Mika looked. And, when she tucked her fingers under Chapa's chin, analysing her worriedly, the girl didn't even jerk away with blushing cheeks, holding her eyelids shut for a long second. 

"We're fine, (y/n/n). School starts in ten minutes," Miles assured her, ignoring how his eyes couldn't focus on anything for more than ten seconds. 

"Good. We can make it ten minutes."

"Yeah! I'm not tired at all!" Bose smiled cockily, reclining against the couch to try and convince their only sane teacher. They had no idea how the lesson would go if Ray was off his rocker, but one thing was for sure - sleep was their enemy, and they were on their guard. 

Nope, they wouldn't drop off. They were superheroes, and sleep was for the weak. Definitely. Nothing would get past them, no matter if they just closed their eyes for a quick second...counting sheep...dreaming of bedtime...pillows and cotton wool. So...very...sleepy.

~

Or not. The second the kids sat down at their desks, bones aching after so much hard work, a wave of sleepiness washed over them. 

The class had barely begun, yet their heads dipped, resting on their open books and tables as Percy and Miriam stood silently in the doorway. They were baffled to see their fellow students snoring away with the lovely Mrs Manchester swaying on the stage with bleary eyes and dull reflexes. She greeted them quietly, waving weakly as she rubbed her eyes, looking dreadful without a touch of concealer and blush for her pesky complexion. 

"Hello, P-Piriam and Mercy...welcome to your s-second day," (y/n) spoke softly, bumbling over those tricky syllables as the children frowned in concern. They'd never comment on her appearance - they were far too polite to tell her that her blouse wasn't buttoned up correctly and her jacket looked dirty - but she was acting weird and looked worse. 

"Miss...are you all right? Miriam asked kindly, wondering why the woman who seemed so sharp yesterday was swaying from side to side as she waited for her crazed husband. 

"Yes, thank you. I am exquisite! Would you be so kind as to join your fellow academics of the scholarly arts?" She asked, gesturing to their rickety seats as she mimicked their accents, unable to help herself. Nothing made sense; she smiled dreamily at the confused girl as she nearly tripped over her feet since the world felt fuzzy. 

"Um...hello, schoolmates?" Percy called out tentatively, scared to sit down as they slumbered silently on their desks, sniffling and snuffling in their sleep but not replying. 

"Oh, Percy! What's wrong with them?--"

"I'm awake!" The siblings peered at the superhero kids, alarmed at how Mika suddenly shot up with wide eyes and stiff limbs, screaming to the heavens. She swore she'd only closed her eyes briefly, waking her friends up simultaneously, so they all saw that they'd been napping for fifteen minutes or more. (y/n) was too nice to wake them up, hoping they could catch a few winks before Ray turned up, wherever he was. 

"Is there something wrong?" The polite boy asked warmly, and the kids all turned to stare at them, thankfully noticing the lack of mayo. How long had they been standing there?

"Yes! You guys gotta get out of here!" Mika told them urgently, fearing what her boss would do when he found them. Sweet girl or no sweet girl, she felt that, at this point, Ray was too tired to listen to anyone. 

"We would never abandon you in a time of need!"

"No, SWAG for life, I say!"

"And so say I!" Miriam and Percy declared, refusing to flee when there was danger. Whilst it was noble and valiant of them, especially how they thumped their clenched fists against their chests like some kind of oath, it made their new friends groan in frustration. They couldn't help but be nice, even though it was for their own good--and it was becoming grating. 

"(y/n), have you seen Ray?" Suddenly, Schwoz burst into the room from the cupboard, looking frantic and nervous as his eyes scoured the room for the fatigued hero. 

"If I had, we'd be sleeping by now," the heroine replied, only to pause her temple massage when a thought hit her, "Wait, I thought he was with you!"

"Yah...he's not."

"Schwoz!" (y/n) facepalmed, gaze flickering to Miriam and Percy as they smiled and waved pleasantly. Bless them - they didn't understand what was happening, although she wasn't sure if they'd run away screaming if they knew the anti-doofus was hunting them with murderous bacteria. They'd probably through it a tea party, not that they'd let Ray near them. 

Her poor doofus was probably scared, alone, and confused, blinded by his exhaustion, which made her heart throb and long to guide him to their room. They'd nap for ten hours at least, then some more until he forgot about the mayonnaise and became his silly, lovable self again. She hated the thought of everyone fearing him - it wasn't his fault. 

"Okay, out the door! Let's go--Let's go--s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go, s'go!" Mika shouted, taking charge of the situation as the adults bickered, the heroine scolding Schwoz for somehow losing a six-foot bumbling man. 

But there was no time for arguing as they ushered the orphans outside, pulling the big, heavy, wooden doors open--only to see Roy waiting menacingly on the porch. He looked worse than before, barely having the strength to don his dandy attire, so his shirt and jacket were rumpled, cravat pulled loose down his front, and his pants didn't look ironed. He hadn't had a wash or bothered to brush his hair since that took more effort than he had, yet the mayonnaise jar was still tightly in his palm. 

His wife whimpered at how...awful he looked, glaring at poor Percy and Miriam as they cowered in the doorway, terrified of the insane glint in his eye. That wasn't the doofus she married, all red-faced and crazy, with eyes for nothing but murder. 

"Cheerio, kiddies! Who's hungry for mayonnaise?!" Ray cackled evilly, brandishing the jar in the horrified kids' faces, and even Danger Force was scared. They shrieked in terror, Bose trembling and hiding in (y/n)'s arms, as Chapa and Miles pushed him back a few paces and attempted to close the doors--anything to keep him out. Meanwhile, Mika pulled Percy and Miriam further into the classroom, knowing they'd have to defend them from there. 

"Into the closet, Canadians!" Bose instructed them, meaning well, even if he was a little confused. 

"Is there something wrong with Teacher?" Percy snivelled at (y/n) as she guided him and his sister into the back room, praying they'd be safe there. It broke her heart to hear his question, not knowing how to explain to the doe-eyed boy that her husband wanted to watch the flesh melt off their bones, so she just smiled and shoved him behind the door. 

"Yes! Everything's fine--just don't come out until we tell you!" She laughed nervously as if her frenzied actions didn't shout the opposite. They slammed the door shut, lamenting that there was a lock, but they stood fast, Mika and Bose working to block the door while the heroine protected them. 

Her husband finally shouldered in the door, unable to direct his sausage-like fingers to use the handle. Still, he made it, delirious and determined to hunt down those kids. But (y/n) wouldn't let him, knowing that while it broke her heart, she'd whack him if she had to, resolved to keep her babies safe, no matter what. 

And she supposed that, even if it was for a little while, and even if they were annoyingly mannerly, Percy and Miriam fell into that category. Her duty was to keep them safe, especially from the thing haunting her husband. 

"Where are those, Brits, (y/n)? I gotta get rid of those kids!" Ray - or Roy - asked gruffly, staring at his trembling with uncommonly dark and harsh eyes, unlike the innocent blue she was used to. 

She tried not to take it to heart as she faced him, arms crossed across her chest to shield her love from his malice - telling herself that her doofus would never use her real name in such a casual fashion. Her husband only called her by the sweetest words, saying them with love and affection, and he'd never sneer at his students like that. 

"Doofus, you need to sleep! Why don't we just go lie down? Hmmm?" She offered gently, resting her flat palms on his chest as she fluttered her eyelashes to entice him, which worked briefly. The man laid his hands on her hips, gaze softening at her touch and sweet proposal, and it sounded heavenly, almost enough to tempt him into dropping the jar, but he shook his head and growled. 

"Which I'll never get as long as they're here! We'll sleep when they're gone!"

"Okay, Raymond, if you act like a child, I will treat you like a child," (y/n) growled, clutching his untucked shirt as she frowned and dug her heels into the floor.

"You've got two options, mister. Come to bed with me right now, or I'll drag your ass there myself, and you'll sleep alone." She huffed, folding her arms to show she meant business. No one else dared to meet Roy's glare, but she bravely blocked him with her body as he pouted, something deep down in his heart telling his sleepy brain that its match wasn't happy. The aching in his chest didn't cease, but he ignored it, even if her sad stare made it worse. 

"...Third option--spin move!" He snapped rebelliously and, much to her shock, dashed to dodge past her. She was expecting some trick, moving in time with the hulking hero, but for someone so bulky, he was agile, wriggling past her defences to charge at the kids - the last line of defence. 

With Miss Danger tripping over herself, Chapa stepped up, conjuring a mighty jolt of electricity to shock Ray in the chest. It stunned him briefly, making him gasp and shudder as he scowled and took a moment to recover. Miles tucked himself under his arm while frozen, making (y/n) sniffle at how roughly they had to treat him. 

"Next stop--the Man's Nest!" The boy quipped, ensuring his teacher was securely in his grasp before thrusting his arm in the air, teleporting them out of the room. Everyone could breathe a sigh of relief...for about five seconds. Unfortunately, Miles' inability to land correctly meant that he and Ray reappeared less than a metre away, incoherent and confused from the short trip. 

"Oh, come on! Not even out of the room?!" And no one was more upset than Miles, who frowned and stamped his foot when he noticed how miserably he'd done, perhaps even only succeeded in edging the sleepy man closer to their wards. 

"Lemme at those kids!" Ray screeched, holding the jar of flesh-eating bacteria high above his head, ready to toss it at whichever Brit came his way. Chapa pressed herself against the door, blocking him from reaching the door handle as Percy and Miriam cowered in the closet, hearing nothing but raised voices and arguing. 

"You know we can't let you do that, Raymond!" (y/n) growled, her mean glare distracting him long enough for Bose to sneak in with his telekineses. 

The hero couldn't help but feel bad as his precious girl hissed at him, allowing the kid to carefully lift the jar out of his hand and harm's way until it floated high above Ray's head. He swatted the air for it, growling for the mayo to return to him, but even he wasn't tall enough to jump and grab it. Thankfully, it wasn't too heavy for Bose to use his power, keeping him bouncing to reach it, giving his heavy-hearted wife quick peeks at his toned tummy when his shirt rose. 

Mika went next, activating his super-scream to try and knock the hero over now that he was unarmed. Yet, unfortunately, she didn't aim very well. She accidentally hit Bose, too, toppling the kid over and shattering his concentration on the jar, making it fall through the air. 

Whilst he fell to the floor, Ray stayed on his feet, confused and oblivious, until it crashed on his head, sending glass shards and thick, gloopy bacteria all over his beautiful hair. And those nasty critters were hungry. Instantly, it began to burn, chomping through his silken locks with a voracious hunger, making Ray grasp at his head in terror. 

He yelled in horror, hands coated in the goo and clumps of his hair, extra terrified in his tired state. As the hero panicked and screamed in pain, his wife rushed to his side, nervous about getting anything on her since she wasn't quite indestructible but couldn't bear to see him in pain. He raced past her, running for the front door like the outdoors could save him from the itching, creepy-crawly tingling on his scalp, much to her concern. 

"Raymond! His hair--his beautiful hair!" (y/n) blubbered, torn between chasing after him to try and wash it off and staying to keep watch. The damage was already done, and whilst she assumed Schwoz's science would fix the mess his bacteria caused, there was no helping him while he ran riot. 

"Friends!" A joyous voice called out, and the group froze. They knew that chirpy tone and polite accent anywhere. "We can stay idle no longer!"

"Are you okay?" Miriam questioned kindly as she and Percy emerged from the closet, troubled by the bizarre and horrifying noises they heard through the door. They didn't mean to drop any eaves, but...it would be rude to not offer any assistance. 

"Um...well..." (y/n) giggled nervously, scratching her head as she tried to explain everything. But how do you tell two children that your sleep-deprived husband went on a murderous rampage, and now bacteria were eating his hair? God, she wanted a nap, but at least things couldn't get much worse. 

"Hello?! What's going on in there?" She spoke too soon. The headmistress felt her heart plummet into her tummy, alive with nerves at the sound of that shrill voice. And there was only one woman it belonged to - the one with the nose she liked to stick in unwanted places. Sharona Shapen and her impeccable timing. 

She stomped into the classroom in another hideous suit: grey check with a flouncy lilac scarf, matching blouse, a little flower pin on her lapel, and a deep frown on her meerkat-like face. The kids froze upon seeing her, looking to (y/n) for help since she was supposed to be the teacher--the ringleader in their den of chaos. 

"Normal school stuff?" She said anxiously, wiping her moist palms on her jacket as she subtly straightened herself out, patting down her skirt and tucking her hair behind her ears. The heroine refused to look subpar to that clown of a woman. Still, Sharona didn't spare her a glance, finding Percy and Miriam and grinning her toothy smile when she saw them standing together - fortunately, still in one piece. 

"Ah-ha! There's my little British Bake-Offs! You're coming with me," she told them firmly in a weirdly happy voice. 

The siblings peered at her strangely, wondering why the inspector had returned so quickly when they'd barely settled into their new school. But she insisted, not taking their confusion or no for an answer. 

"What's this?"

"Whatever for?" They inquired, utterly puzzled they'd sworn their oath of allegiance or whatever, refusing to leave their friends simply because she said so. 

"I got a new school for ya!"

"We will never leave our friends," Percy replied sharply, standing shoulder to shoulder with his sister as she readily agreed. Although their time had been short and weird, they felt a strange sense of loyalty. Still, perhaps that was simply their nobility and honour shining through, making Chapa wrinkle her nose in disgust. 

"SWAG forever, I say!"

"And so say I!"

"Yeah, you're going to forget about these dopes in, like, two seconds when the horse-drawn carriage gets here," Sharona shrugged, having mysteriously found somewhere much more suitable for the orphans than the shitshow ran by that mousy woman and her handsome yet husband. 

And speaking of that smoke show, Ray rolled in, screaming and shouting like a raving lunatic as he descended from the steps to the Man's Nest. (y/n) felt her mouth go dry and her intestines clench when she saw how he clutched at his smooth, shiny, bald head, completely stripped free of hair - even a stubble. The bacteria had left nothing behind, and for a guy so caught up in his appearance, the loss, combined with his exhaustion, was devastating. 

"My hair! My beautiful hair!"

"Oh, doofus..." she mumbled, pressing a trembling hand against her cheek as he barrelled toward the group. He looked crazy in his sleek, rumpled, gunge-covered clothes, but she knew she still loved him, even if he looked like an egg. She wasn't so shallow as to focus on his lack of chocolate locks, even if she silently mourned its loss. 

"Ah, it burns! Oh, God, it burns!" He shrieked, collapsing into the antique chair that Percy had been sitting in as it rolled out the door. Seeing a bald man with superpowers wheeling himself around his school for gifted children was a strange sight, shouting and screaming to God. Miss Shapen wondered what she'd walked into, and she was glad to return to save those poor orphans from the madness. 

"What's his problem?"

"He just needs a nap--now, what's this about a horse-drawn carriage?" Chapa asked curiously, knowing her friend would get her doofus into bed once the strangers were gone, but she wanted to know where they were going. And in such luxury, at that. 

"Some billionaire in Bordertown runs a school for poor, gifted English kids," Sharona explained excitedly, eager to whisk Percy and Miriam away from the cesspit of a school so she could go and enjoy the billionaire's company--and hopefully a few of his millions. 

"Oh, does he?" Mika gasped incredulously, twirling a lock of her dark hair around her finger as she smirked at the odd woman--looking as if she knew something her friends didn't. It took a minute for (y/n) to figure it out, her brain not what it usually was when she was so tired, but then, it hit her. She didn't...did she?

"Yeah, it's a lot of paperwork to apply. I don't know how you did it!" The inspector remarked to Percy and Miriam, who looked just as flabbergasted as she did, not knowing what she was talking about. But Mika had it covered, silently smug that she'd tapped away on her computer as per her teacher's advice whilst they all doubted her. 

"Me neither! It's almost like someone else filled out their applications for them!"

"Yeah, whatever! Anyway, each kid gets a million bucks and a banger of an education. Much better than this dump!" Miss Shapen cackled, much to (y/n)'s offence, who folded her arms and glared, looking slightly meaner than usual with her dark under-eyes and doofus-less status. 

"Hey! I'll have you know my husband and I put our life savings into this place!" She retorted indignantly, highly protective of her beautiful school's windows and gardens. She left out the part where the good old taxpayer funded half of it, not that the odd woman needed to know that- they were obliged to Captain Man and Miss Danger for guarding them. 

"Your husband?!" Sharona laughed cruelly, gesturing to where Ray rolled away, wailing hysterically. "What kind of gifted school is run by an old bald guy in a wheelchair?"

"I'll have you know, Sharona--"

"I am not old!" Ray snapped rudely, abruptly rolling into the room with a scowl, butting in when his sweet girl went to defend him. She sighed at the sorry sight he made, knowing it had been a trying few days for him, casting back to that promise she had made. Would they even have time for that now?

His head shined under the bright lights, looking particularly spherical and slick, exasperated by his kooky clothes. Yet despite everything, he was offended by the insinuation that he was old - his classic sore spot. 

"Pipe down, Mr Clean!" Sharona hissed, scrunching her face in disgust at his unkempt, bohemian appearance. Before (y/n) could say something - or punch her in the teeth - the inspector stormed forward and kicked Ray's wheelchair, sending his back onto the porch as he clutched his sore, chilly scalp. How cruel - she picked on him at his most vulnerable. 

"My doofus!" The heroine exclaimed in horror, cringing when she heard her lover whimper and crash into something. 

"Listen here, Sharona," she snarled defensively, "what's your game? What do you want?"

"Your school can keep its license, Mrs Manchester, but I'm never sending any other students here again," the gaudy woman announced, much to Miriam and Percy's disappointment, their bottom lips wobbling. They didn't want to leave, but their friends couldn't help but secretly celebrate the news; they'd never have to worry about unwanted visitors again. They had Ray and his spectacular performance to thank for that.

"Now, come on, beans and toast. Time to Brexit!" Miss Shapen whistled to the orphans, ignoring their kicked-puppy expressions since she was on a roll with her British puns. She waltzed out of the classroom, expecting them to follow her, and the kids had no choice but to take their leave, but not before bidding their friends and instructor goodbye. 

"We will never forget you! Thank you so much, Miss (y/n)!" Percy smiled and sniffed, blinking back tears as he suddenly wrapped his arms around (y/n)'s waist. The poor kid was so short, barely reaching past her tummy as his sister hugged her other side, snuggling into her body like they were leaving their mother or a dear friend. Despite the surprise, it warmed the woman's heart, and she couldn't leave them hanging. 

"It was my pleasure to...teach you," she told them gently, awkwardly patting their headscarf and flat cap since she wouldn't assume they learned anything from their hurried and bizarre lessons. But, if anything, the children were a delight in the school and, as always, so very polite.

"SWAG forever, I say!"

"And so say I!" They swore stalwartly, ignoring the sadness to tap their fists against their chests. It was a final goodbye that moved even the stoniest of hearts--namely Chapa's, who nodded solemnly as the others tried not to cry. They were so strong, especially Miles, who repeated their gestures as the brother and sister emotionlessly marched away without another word - not looking back once. 

And then, they were alone again as Percy and Miriam left for a life of ease and luxury--it was almost convincing enough to make them follow. But they didn't, seeing Ray parked outside and knowing they had their own oath to fulfil, starting with getting him in bed with his sweet girl and a wig. 

"Can't believe Miles was right..." Bose sighed as they gathered together, feeling empty now that their little crumpets had gone on to better things, but Mika couldn't help but frown...

"About what?" (y/n) asked curiously, knowing that the first thing she wanted to do was sleep, snuggled up to her husband on their emperor-sized bed. 

"The solution revealed itself!"

"What?" Mika frowned at this long-haired boy's words, refusing to believe that he thought her brother and his mystic bullshit were the answer to their problems. They ignored how she worked her butt off to get Miriam and Percy into that fancy school. Still, they laughed and congratulated Miles for his efforts--like they left by chance. It was amusing for (y/n) to watch, chuckling to herself when she practically saw steam coming out of the girl's ears. 

"Hey, yeah. It did!" Chapa agreed, clueless to the furious girl by her elbow. 

"The universe will provide..." Miles stated calmly and smugly, infuriating his sister even more. He lapped up all the attention his friends gave him, feeling like he was one with the spirits--although he'd meet them sooner than later if Mika got ahold of him. 

"Mika provides! I filled out their applications like (y/n) told me to while everyone else wasn't paying any attention to me!" She exclaimed frustratedly, wildly gesturing to herself as she ranted about how she'd saved the day - it was funny to watch.

But her friends weren't in the mood for one of her holier-than-thou lectures, glancing at each other tiredly before simply walking away, heading for the closet so they could go to the Man's Nest and nap. They deserved a little relaxation, their heads throbbing too much to listen to Mika's incessant ramblings. 

"Hello?! Hello?! I exist! (y/n/n), tell them!" She wailed, looking at the older girl pleadingly to get her support, but she just laughed kindly. 

"You did good, Mika. Well done for helping us out," (y/n) praised her happily, rubbing her head like she was rewarding a puppy, but Mika lapped it up. She practically glowed at the compliment, beaming with pride, even if she tried to appear modest and humble. 

"Aw, shucks..."

"So, go and rest with the others. You must be exhausted," the heroine told her, ushering the sleepy girl toward where her friends had disappeared when she yawned suddenly. Too tired to argue, Mika nodded weakly, rolling her shoulders now the adrenaline had worn off, and she turned to the door, fingers brushing the golden handle when she noticed that her friend wouldn't follow. 

"What about you? Aren't you gonna go to bed?"

"Of course! My feet feel like they'll drop off if I wear these heels for a minute longer," she replied with a tired laugh, shifting from one foot to the other since she couldn't feel her toes. They'd been squashed in heels - boots or otherwise - for over twelve hours, and she was drained, hearing her bed calling out to her. She'd listen, knowing the route even with her eyes closed, but first, there was something she needed to do...

"But first, I need to go get His Grumpiness."

"Oh, come on. Ray will be fine if you nap for an hour or two!" Mika exclaimed, slowly pushing the door open, hoping it would tempt the woman into tagging along. She hated the bags under her eyes, but no matter what she said, she still edged toward the front door, where Ray still sulked on the porch in his wheelchair, determined to go to bed with him. 

"I guess, but he's my husband, and I love him, even if he's all eggy now," (y/n) shrugged, gently refusing the girl's subtle offer when she jerked her head to the back room, setting her sights on the grumbling doofus throwing a tantrum amongst the potted plants. 

It would be nightmarish and nearly impossible to convince him to go with her, considering how he was screeching and scratching at his hairless head, but she'd manage it. No matter if it took another hour, she'd drag him there, strip his stupid riding boots off, and tuck them under the comforter - they'd solve his smooth noggin problem later. 

"Can't sleep without him..."

"Do you think he'll be bald forever?" The girl asked curiously, wondering if it was something they'd have to get used to, but she didn't look too worried. As much as she adored his brown floof, (y/n) didn't cry or frown, unlike when she first saw his kooky new look, seeming oddly relaxed and happy as she hovered in front of the door. 

"Nah... Schwoz will throw some hair juice on his head or something, and I'll have my handsome doofus back in no time!" She exclaimed, practically bouncing with joy at the thought of being in her lover's embrace again, where she could hear his rational thoughts and sweet words. She needed it after a long day, shivering at the thought of finally resting with him. 

In her happiness, she didn't feel the smile creeping onto her face, too wrapped up to see Mika giggling at that dreamy-eyed expression. 

"You really love him, don't you?" She remarked softly, half-disappearing behind her door as (y/n) went in the opposite direction on her mission. Her cheeks grew warm, yet she quickly nodded, never denying it - her purest form was when she revelled in her deep adoration for that man, who took all other love she might have had for anyone else to give her room to grow. 

"More than anything..." she replied softly, enough for Mika. The girl didn't argue any more, seeing that nothing she said would convince her otherwise. She passed into the other room, leaving the heroine with weariness and endless love as everything finally fell silent. 

The classroom needed a good tidy, and she wanted to check on the kids before she slept since it had been their longest shift yet. There was a lot to do, more than she could bear to think about when her body ached, begging to restore itself, but it was nice to stand and appreciate...nothing. No problems, no children, nothing that could go wrong...

She was frozen, seeing the sunlight holding the dust in its beams before it settled on her surfaces, readying for cleaning. Maybe in a few hours, but she could hear Ray crying on the front porch, calling her name in a needy, pitchy voice as his fists thumped the chair. He had to be her priority, worrying for others before herself. 

She sighed and closed her eyes, knowing the silence never lasted long, but that was okay. She fixed her jacket, rubbed her face, and studied the messy classroom, calling out that she was on her way, fighting through the exhaustion. 

Off she went again, head held high as the school doors closed until the next crazy adventure.

[dangermousie]

Farscape rewatch: 2x11 Look at the Princess Part 1

This three-parter is one of my fave eps and I think classic Farscape: taking the usual scifi trope and remaking it into something unique. On the surface, the set-up is something that has been done before, not just in scifi but in adventure lit of Victorian era: our brave Earthling (or Big Game Hunter, or Aristocratic Englishman) ends up having to pretend/be the groom of local royalty. Because he is so awesomely superior and attractive, of course. See Prisoner of Zenda and 8 million other titles. But this is Farscape, so this is not the case at all. When John is being chased, it’s never anything good  (I keep thinking of the fact that when Farscape finally decided to do the good old ‘hero must have more than one woman’ thing, they had Crichton raped by Grayza. In general, Crichton’s uniqueness brings him nothing but misery.) Here, the ‘other culture’ is far superior to the Earth one in its advancement, it’s powerful and needs no favors from anyone. Moreover, there is no ‘love’ or ‘he is so attractive’ on the part of the ‘natives.’ The reason Crichton works is, precisely, because in this world he is the genetic screw-up so he works as a mate for Katralla whose DNA has been messed with.

Nor is John someone who falls for the exotic Princess, or heroically rushes to the rescue of the kingdom out of noblesse oblige. He fights being married tooth and nail and then ‘unheroically’ surrenders to it when faced with threat of being turned over to Scorpius, and then saves everything only out of desperation and at the end, he is confronted with loss: his inability to kill Scorpius, the fact that he will never see his future child.

You know, I’ve forgotten how sharp the dialogue in Farscape is and how easily is can alternate between heart-breaking and completely funny. I keep thinking of the scene with John and D’Argo where John talks to D’Argo about hope and how “I have hope or I have nothing” and it’s an utterly heartbreaking scene:

(D’Argo pointing out his alternative is brain dissection by Scorpius is so very on brand - there is never an easy out or a good choice and a bad choice, just a bunch of bad choices.)

But anyway, it’s heartbreaking...

But it segues right into the bit of cultural misunderstanding about what ‘best man’ means and it’s now funny.

(Side note - will always love that D’s objection to what he thinks is John is propositioning him is “I am in a relationship already” and not anything else.)

D is a really good friend to John in this. They’ve come a long way since s1. Only a good friend would tolerate being constantly interrupted in his activities with Chiana (I love that John is so freaked by his future he merely registers her there and continues talking). John needs a friend badly at LATP. He doesn’t know it, but his insanity breakdown has began for real (he tells Aeryn he hears Scorpy in his head and she shrugs it off as paranoia. It must be pretty awful for John to have the one person you fear and hate the most always present). It’s a shudder-inducing scene in retrospect as it would be bad enough if it were PTSD but as is (Aeryn’s asking if 80 years as a statue is better than Scorpius here shows how much she does not yet get just how damaged John got by all of this; she will by the end of s2 but the price will be horrific.)

He is trapped by the Empress (whom I am not a fan of. I understand the necessity, but people who have no problems using other people as pawns are not a fave. And the whole setup is seriously proof as to why monarchy is a bad form of government - they are one bad ruler away from disaster). And then there is Scorpy. I love that John’s reaction to Scorpy is purely visceral, unreasoning. He is terrified and the way he uncontrollably flashbacks to his torture is evident on his face, and he tries to jest and put bravado but it all falls hollow.

He cannot control himself. I don’t think anyone else, not even Crais or Grayza, comes close to eliciting such a reaction out of him. Crais did a number on him physically, Grayza raped his body, and both hunted him assiduously, but Scorpius raped his mind and that’s his most important faculty in the mad world he’s thrust into. (But I love that even with all of that, he still asks Katralla what she wants not just as a last ditch hope of escape but because he does not believe in forcing people.) And now, I want to discuss my favorite stuff: John and Aeryn. I find myself both very frustrated with Aeryn through these eps (until the end of ep 3) and understanding completely where she comes from. She might deny that her wanting this marriage off is jealousy but Chiana can see it. I think in a way Crichton can too, but he needs her to give him something, anything to indicate reciprocity, that she would one day want to have something with him. The worst is when she says she won’t come to the wedding. She pushes a lot and wants a lot but tries to give nothing in return and yes that is very unfair but she is terrified, being with John would be the first real relationship she would have and she cannot handle the exposure, not yet. She can deal with the sex but she cannot deal with feelings. Her ambivalence is totally encapsulated in the first scene: she scents her hair so John would notice and tells him so later but when he does, she freaks and pulls away. He leans in for a kiss and she kisses him back but then breaks off. No wonder John is going insane.  I always die a little of swoon when they discuss the hair oil and she says that she will tell Zhaan he found her oils pleasing and he responds, both frustrated and trying to convince her desperately: ‘It’s you I find pleasing. Oh boy. She desperately needs to make it all about sex (something she is used to and familiar with). Crichton only wants her for sex, he is a walking horndog on legs etc etc, because she wants to deny any of her own feelings and any of his.

After having seen the entirety of Farscape, I melt a little when she sees Crichton interact with the simulacrum of his child and she realizes that he would want a child, that children are important to him. But also - as I mentioned, this is one child Crichton will never meet and he just has to live with it, there are no clean victories (side note, I loved that John was the one who wanted the emotions and the marriage and the baby and Aeryn had to think long and hard; such delicious reversal.)

P.S. Rygel/Aeryn kiss will never cease being funny. But also extra hilarious in light of his becoming her baby’s surrogate later, heeee.

PPS Ain’t it the truth

[mojowitchcraft]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @emryses 💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 25, I have no clue how that happened

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 278,105... wowowow 👀 dis bish is cray cray

3. What fandoms do you write for? Just Stranger Things at the moment! If you really want you can go find an old HP one shot I wrote years ago on Fanfiction.net but I don't really count that!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? You’re The Ultimate No One Rides For Free [Night Drives Part 1] You Think These People Really Care For You? [Part 2] Take Me On A Night Drive [Part 3] You Give Me Pale Shelter [Part 4]

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes, always

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't really write angst but I guess the lil spooky 500 word vamp Eddie fic I wrote could be considered an angsty ending since it's open to interpretation Awakened I Have Become

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Strawberries & Cigarettes

8. Do you get hate on fics? No I haven't really! The only annoying things I've seen are people complaining about the smut at the end of the bodyswap fic (You're the Ultimate)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes! Must have smut! I'm a fairly vanilla person myself, so I don't really veer into kinky stuff in my own writing. I like sex where the characters are having fun, some silly stuff happening is always good. I love Virgin Eddie & Bottom Eddie, so I write that a lot, but they usually switch it up in pretty much everything I write.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? No I haven't! I think cross overs can be fun but I don't think I'll ever write one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nope!! I've seen it happen to friends though and it really sucks.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but that would be so cool! I'm always open to people translating or creating something based on my fics!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not yet! But @glitterfang and I keep talking about it!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Oh god, my brain is so full of Steddie... are there other ships? hahahaha

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Right now I'm staring at my Steddie dads fic that I started for Steddie Week and it kinda grew legs... I've been feeling guilty that I haven't finished it, I'll either have to keep it short (3 chapters like I originally planned) and end it more abruptly, or I'll need to brainstorm and expand it. but I DO fully intend to finish it! I just feel shitty that I haven't yet and it keeps slipping my mind. We Part To Meet Again here it is in case you want to read it without ever knowing when it's gonna be updated hahahah *cue everyone running away screaming*

16. What are your writing strengths? Oh god, ask someone else, I don't know!!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Struggling to make time to write, maybe not being as descriptive with settings and clothing as I could be?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? This feels like such a random question hahahaha, I mean I've read a few where they're in another country and there's a smattering of a different language. It's nice when authors put the translations in the end notes.

19. First fandom you wrote for? HP technically.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? How am I to choose between my children!! I do really love Night Drives, and all of my other fics. I was really proud of 'Am I Your Fire?' but it didn't get much attention so I'm gonna say that

zero pressure tags: @toburnup @glitterfang @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @entanglednow @mixsethaddams @justcourbeau

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

CAP I FORGOT TO READ CHAPTER 73.

I WROTE SHIT ABOTU IT HERE YOU GO IT'S MOSTLY JUST ME FREAKING OTU

SPOILERS BELOW AND ALL THAT

Balad to cap

Ok so why didn’t i ever read chapter 73. I forgot about it? I have zero clue why that happened.

Its a very fun chapter too, it feels quite chill and is a good transition alongside tying up loose ends

I’m glad it talks about Alya being like “why tf are they over there” 

God I’m still so curious about the seeds planted of clues for Juleka’s identity, plus idk why but I’m still 90% certain adrien will randomly find out

I know he won’t but my brain is convinced

Help genderfluid Anarka i love her to pieces she’s such a terror (and i adore when you make her speak in a scottish accent, it’s so dear to me)

Interesting.. Luka teaches Kim guitar? I’m curious about Luka’s totally normal life aside from the furry for a sister, he tries so hard…

Oh. 

Now thats an interesting tidbit

Luka can tell how in her own head Juleka is? Very intriguing for him to call them delusions… I wonder how different pieces of this fic would be if they were from another perspective, especially the sheer level of danger the characters are in and how monstrous Juleka sees herself vs the reality of her protecting herself 

My thoughts are going to when she Prince Shining (that was his name right?) It’s one of my favorite original Akumas behind Wicket Witch and Little Red (which I am realising now is because of the background to them… Akuma hit harder when there is a buildup, huh. Something to keep in mind for my own writing.) That was fun to see, how worried the class was vs how confused that made Juleka

How people perceive others and myself has always been interesting to me, so this is right up my alley

Back to Luka

Oh curious, of course Luka would want to protect Juleka… I wonder if Marinette will try to make him a holder as well, I’m not sure if that secret identity would last the hour to be honest

The fact that we still don’t have much model Juleka content (aside from a piece of art you did a few years ago, or maybe that was someone else) makes me feel crazy! It’s an aspect of her that I’m really curious to see how you write it

I’ve got fun concepts for her in my own shit, and ANYWAY! Ui brought it up because Anarka was talking about sending Juleka there. 

Sorry, I’m both making notes on like 2 pieces of writing, writing 2 different scenes in totally different chapters and writing this and reading chapter 73 and cooking dinner. Can you tell I am diagnosed with ADHD? 

Woohoo for Fei saving people

Fei being scared and unsettled by Juleka is so funny help-

Aww, Juleka giving Fei interview practice is adorable

I need to reread at some point to see if we get to see how marinette sees Juleka compared to Panthera (hey, it’s me being obsessed with how people perceive others again, tbh that’s prolly why I am so excited to write my miraculous thing, there are some… extra layers that should make it funny) 

Sure you dont have a concussion Juleka, like I’ll believe that

MODEL LORE?? AUWG>/?

WOOO

MODEL SHIT IS HAPPENING I TAKE BACK ALL MY IMPATIENCE CAP I APOLOGISE

AND HER DRESS IS BASED OFF OF DUSSUU OR HOWEVER YOU SPELL IT???

CRAY=ZY.

HOYL SHIT]I THOUGT]F

ROSE WAS BEING A SAP. ACCEPTABLE. 

BUT.

SO YOU DO WORK WITH THE HEORES>545FRUNEIODWS

DUED

Oh my god if eel insane 

Help

Not Juleka slagging off herself to Rose she is so insane 

Wait

WHAT.

GABRIEL HAS TRIED TO AKUMATISE JULEKA A LOT? HOLY SHIT

This chapter is full of revaltions

Insane about everything her what the fuck

this is mostly me freakign out, sozzles its also really short. time for chapter 74!

this was a really good chapter i feel insane that i forgot to read it

YAYYYYY IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!!!!

i wanted to set up the mood for season 3- i hope it makes you excited!!!!!

[pebblysand]

Director's Cut! Way Specific Scene.

i really adore the description in this, because it helps me really visualize it--how harry and ginny are positioned relative to one another, how what they're looking at instead of one another reveals how they are feeling.

I am curious, and you need not answer if you would prefer not to, how you were able to craft this, what your process was, because it seems (forgive me if I'm making bold assertions) like a thing that would be difficult to do given what you've mentioned about how visualization is harder for you than it might be for others.

do you, like, do the actions yourself and then capture each movement in words?

thank you so much for both your amazing writing and your willingness to engage beyond the published text--i feel so very blessed by both aspects of the goddess pebblysand. 🌸

Yeah, this is a super interesting question. This paragraph involved... an embarrassing amount of effort lol. I re-drafted it a number of times haha. It's definitely one those where, generally, *I* don't see anything in that description and I would very happily have moved on without it, but I hear @copper-dust's voice in my head being like: "DETAILS! VISUALS!" so I... yield to the voice in my head lol.

I think I've become more aware of my own limitations in the past year and have, as such, made a conscious effort to adapt. It doesn't mean that I'm changing my style, I'm never going to be a "visual" author, but I can make certain adjustments, you know? This scene could have further details on the colour of the grass and the flow of the waves, and the birds in the sky or whatever, but you're going to have to go someone else's fic to find that cause my brain is incapable, haha. Again, we're making lemonade with the lemons we have, here, you know?

That said, I've noticed I find it easier to generally add visuals at the beginning of scenes (this one and the one with Kingsley and the description of his office earlier in the chapter come to mind) because it's a place where I have mental space to remember to add them, as opposed to later when I'm so focused on the action, dialogue, etc. that it a) wouldn't occur to me and b) would distract me and annoy me as a reader lol. So, usually, every time I get to a new location, I try to force myself to describe it the best I can these days. (Ah, all the sacrifices I make for you, visual people 😅)

To answer your question about my process though, in this case, I just stop and think: how would these people sit? And, so: Ginny would be the kind of girl who sits cross-legged with her skirt over her legs because she wants to look at people when she talks to them. Harry - this is going to sound Very Strange, but I have a whole headcanon from a fic I've started working on but not yet published about the fact that he always sits in a way that make it easy for him to get up and run in one swift-motion. So, he always has at least one foot solidly on the ground, which is the case here. But, if he had both knees up (and feet on the ground), his second leg would be a sort of fence between them, he'd be a lot less relaxed and open towards her with both knees pulled up, which we don't want, because this is a scene where they're having a dialogue.

This conundrum honestly did led me at one point to sitting on the floor of my apartment, trying to find a position for him that worked. Sometimes, I think my neighbours probably think I'm totally cray lol. Then, describing as best as I could, adding in distance (3 or 4 feet cause I'm never bloody sure what a fucking foot is, please adopt metres people!) and light from the sun because it's a hot spring day and I wanted to convey that. She's in the shade because she's not Stupid; I headcanon that Harry's skin is on the "darker" side for a white person (a bit like my own, tbh, is that a self-insert? lmao) and that he tans pretty easily, meaning that he likes to think he never gets burnt, although that is totally Not True. I honestly think about these things too much lol.

Then, their looks are, as you said, also a symbol. She is looking at the castle - which she hates - and he is looking at the water. They're both not looking at each other, though their actual body language is very relaxed and open. That's the contrast I wanted to play with, for obvious reasons as this chapter is very ambivalent.

But, honestly, I almost deleted that paragraph before I published cause it bored me. I'm now glad I didn't, haha.

[thoughtsbeewild]

Why did he call himself the rating machines? sounds scary

His truth social so cray cray, like damn this orange is on serious attack mode on all this socials. Slow your role, I wish i had that dedicated time to read it all, but i dont. More or likely he is repeating the same messages, just waiting for the debate to be honest..

When he posted on truth social" I am the ratings machine" that sounds scary. WTF does that mean?

My translation, created a fun meme for him aka the rating machine..like a terminator on a mission to recruit RFK, Elon Musk, and others( i dont care for)..He calling himself a ratings machine is that a positive thing? He on a rager...chill orange..

If you look from the other side of the spectrum, you see the democrats are marketing selling this delightful joy. I thought of Joy from Inside out pixel movie.

So which looks bad the ratings machine or joy? Think about it on swaying or dipping into the fantasy liberal regime or at least getting some of thier votes to the ratings machine side.

I am unclear of what the FUCK THESE Endorsement mean, is that suppose be a big deal in your politic world? Like why should we clap or give a round of a applause? i don't get it, makes no sense..

Unless you got Beyonce that is a big UNITY TWIST FOR CELEBRITY WOKE SHIT FOR THE FUCKING WHOLE WORLD TO BE BLOWN AWAY and that will take away some of liberal dummy young adolescent , kim Kardashian wanna be voters to vote orange...

CAUSE YOU KNOW ALL THE RICH ELITE CELEBRITIES, DEMONCRATS,DEEPSTATE AND BIG MAIN STEAM MEDIA THOSE ARE YOUR BIGGEST ALLIES..

I know sort of Elon Musk story, he got dissed at the white house and many other factors that lead to his decision. Make sense, like he doing a courtesy fuck you back. I get it, do your thag.

RFK, i cannot understand him at all. I dont know much, he followed the footsteps of his dad party and finally figured out at age of how old is he now(took him over 50 years for his brain to work, like what), that the demoncrat are shady,shitty, humans throwing subpoenas shut him and you up.

BTW Vegan food is gross , nasty and expensive. Have you tried plant based meatball, that shit is so nasty. Tried organic deodorant, yuck, it chaffed my armpits like crazy. Never again. organic is so expensive, double the price at whole foods, trader joes, sprouts. Like if we are inflation, why the fuck we wanna spend double more money being healthy.

Get your ass to Costco, get the family/king bulksize, your set for life ..cheaper and will last a long time to provide more room for other purchases..fuck the organic shit, that shit is gross..

I think the better idea/proposal is try to encourage people to stay in shape, but its hard cause in each human life you will have your down days, your up days.. Not everyday is always SUNSHINE AND RAINBOWS, you will go through the storm with a shit load of stress and wanting BAD COMFORT YUMMY FOOD. BAD CHOCOLATE WITH ALMONDS OR HAVE A CHEAT DAY FRIDAY DONUT FOR THE WIN! but to be forced to into an organic person because RFK has a problem with it and govt will limit unhealthy food to Americans, cmon man... AMERICA SUPPOSE BE LAND OF THE FREE, FREEDOM TO EAT WHATEVER THE FUCK WE WANT!

I would want to HAVE FREEDOM TO CHOOSE TO HAVE FOOD OPTIONS HEALTHY OR UNHEALTHY, JUST LIKE HOW YOUR PROMOTING AVAILABILITY OF ELECTRIC AND GAS CARS...DONT FORCE PEOPLE TO BE HEALTHY BUT HAVE LEADERS TO ENCOURAGE A POSITIVE MESSAGE SHOULD ONE DECIDE TO WANT BE HEALTHY...JUST SAYING..

At this time, insane high prices of everything, you gotta think cheap, like a cheap ass until change happens...

But if you challenge yourself go vegan or do not look in the mirror for a week. I BET YOUR ASS WILL LOSE! that is a hard challenge.

Your marketing is basically terminator attack mode, i don't watch the other side bullshit and fakeness. So I am not sure how hardcore they are going on this magnificent joy fictional character bullshit..

[adhdvane]

brain b goin cray lately but do u ever just??? go ham over kink and psychological causes thereof like esp when characters have long history together and kink as a way to cope and live out things safely with someone you love and---

okay, so I read this last night before I went to sleep (okay maybe it was early morning rip) but I was so tired I read half of the words wrong and I was so confused xD actual response under the cut, bc boy I get it...

I totally feel you anon. Kink is so much fun to think about and play with. Like it's generally believed that most kink develops in the early stages of childhood, but like it varies so wildly from person to person; it's so board. Sometimes there's a deep psychological things behind it, sometimes it's trauma related, and sometimes... it's just there and you don't know why other than: this is hot lol. (I have kink I'll phsycoanaize myself about why I have, because of my lived experiences and trauma. and then I have kink I've literally just had since I was baby and literally just it's just always been there yo, I can give you explains now why I think it's hot and how I might have ended up finding those things hot, but baby me watching barney the dinosaur didn't have those experiences so clearly it's been with me longer than I can explain. It just is oops). Typically I'm the one using character to explore taboo/unsafe kinky things in a safe fictional environment lol. But, yes, analyzing why some characters have a kink I've decided to give them is fun (especially when those meds kick in and you brain is like WOOOOO LETS GOOOOOO THINK ABOUT THINGS AND DON'T GET DISTRACTED). Or like character who canon have kink and I don't have to give it to them in the first place (beli lol). (catch me thinking about how the fuck kink works with beli. like how much of it was, he was programmed that way when he was literally created, how much control do astrals have on that sort of thing when they create a primal beast. how much of it developed for beli as he developed a personality while existing. how much of his personality developed while existing and how much was programmed into his when lucilius created him? i joked once that whether or not a primal beast has genitals depends on how horny the astral who made them was. and that lucilius is ace (I KNEW I FORGETTING SOMEONE IN MY ACE HEADCANONS). and just the concept the beliel was a fucking ken doll down there (unless belial's directive was to go down a fuck the mortals there's no biological reason for him to have a dick, technically, and I'm pretty sure that wasn't his purpose) and just beli sobbing like why would you make me so horny and not give me a dick. and lucilius just like, because i hate you. but that's just a joke (beli has canon sex, though, i mean, could have sex other ways, i just assume nah he had a dick, it's more fun if he has a dick). but anyways, it's super interesting to think about how much is nature vs. nurture esp with primal beasts bc we've seen them change, we've seen them grow and developed based on their interactions with other (esp mortals). How much of Beli's kink was predetermined. How much was an accident? How much of it happened because of what he experience? ((don't ask me about the fake events about my gbf oc's that jokingly lead to a sequal event that jokingly lead to shit with where lucilius, beli, and bubs were trapped and then led to fucked up belisan shit, being stranded alone in another world. belial abandoned by lucilius. fuck.))) rip I think I got off subject, but anon, I feel you. God. My adhd brain goes ham over that shit too sometimes

[dontsh0vethesun]

Ask game!

88, 73, 69 (hehehe), 63, 58, 52, 51, 47, 41, 31, 29, 24, 20, and 5¡ 💖

-🍪

oh shit you've put like all of them 😭

88. if you could have another author write your wip for you (bc we all dream of this occasionally), who would it be?

does this mean famous author or fanfic one lmao - famous author i would say maybe otessa moshfegh cuz that girl is cray, she would make it so gross

73. how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

i feel like a bit of both but mainly like a movie scene, helps me actually work out what my brain is trying to write

69. (hehehe) how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

yes, i write things from my own mind. empathy isn't something i'm good at so i kinda have to rely on what i personally know

63. what’s the best insult you’ve read in a fic?

oof i can't think of a specific one but the more vile and mean the insult, the more i will love it (not anything offensive tho)

58. what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

i always gaslight myself into thinking i don't know the definitions to the most basic words so it was the definition of 'tryst' 😭😭(which i did know btw)

52. how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?

oh god. i am in the middle of actually writing 8 but then i also have at least 20 outlines for fics AND around 40 requests - my google docs is chaos

51. share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet

i'm around half way through a wednesdayxreader fic where they're in a fwb type situation and then it gets a little angsty and then jealous wednesday is unleashed heheheh

47. what story are you most proud of?

i think my priest wanda fic, a lot of people liked that one and it made me kinda like it and feel less insecure in my writing lmao so i guess it holds sentimental value

41. what is the weirdest story idea you’ve ever had?

hmmmmm, i'm not sure about weird but i've got some pretty dark fic ideas if that counts? including VERY dark wanda and one with a pretty dark natasha romanoff with hitch hiker reader hehhehe

31. tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write

honestly i really enjoy writing my serial killer reader and hope to carry on with that au soon - she's just so unfiltered and evil but in a fun way

29. give us a spoiler for one of your stories.

hmmmm, reader tries and fails miserably at planning a date for her and larissa weems - it's hopefully gonna just be dumb and stupid and fluffy (whoever sent the request is to thank for that one)

24. on average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

it super depends on what my brain does - i've sat and written multiple back to back before or sometimes a get a sentence done before i'm bored lmao

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

ENEMIES TO LOVERS but a very close second is a secret relationship

5. have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son

i actually have ! it was originally for a fic that has long been abandoned but now it fits my serial killer reder and just any dark fic i do

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6GJs4MIxibh1Gcx6JgU7jG?si=a492336f6c014f37

cookie anon ur crazy ily, this was fun though :))))))

[private-thoughts-express]

Majority is a rant but if u want to use this in an english class to teach kids about reading between the lines then be my guest

I love publishing my shit on the internet. i have a tiktok where i mostly talk about my ex or my dad. i also post little cutesy videos and i like doing the trends. but i do overshare sometimes. i used to have a finsta where i would write essays and post sad pictures of me and i would literally post every one of my lowest moments. like thats so crazy. and i only had 5 (2 were the same person) followers and only one person ever consistently commented. so very few were aware. i have had countless anonymous accounts on every random platform where i vented or bitched or cried. its absolutely cray if u really think about it. and now i have this tumblr. i will probably abandon it in a month or 4 because thats what i do. i set these large goals for myself that i cant complete. but i still keep trying. so i regressed to 2012 tumblr self. so now that im here im thinking why do i, or anybody for that matter, have this incessant need to post about every tragic depressing thing that happens to us online?

ps. Listen to that while u read the rest of this so we can listen to the same thing while reading it. it is my favorite song to walk home to or cook to or close my eyes to. so u deserve to listen to it. do a nice thing for urself and hit play. its not even what i typically like so when i first heard it i was surprised about how great a new music genre could be and it just scratches the best itch in ur brain

i don't care if its the people i know that see it. i actually dont prefer it but theres a select few that i dont care if they do see. but thats besides the point. Theres many people, myself included, that dont feel certain of their emotions. i never know how im feeling or if im being overdramatic. I also dont know how to muster up the courage to share the worst of my thoughts with some people. i also hold my tongue a lot. l just dont want to upset anyone or be honest. i hate being honest sometimes. emotionally honest. its so hard and lame. so where am i going with this? well if i remember correctly im going here:

There Is Major Satisfaction in Hitting Post

I feel that publicizing my feelings and putting them out there in the internet abyss cements them into the world. my mom always did say that once you put something on the internet its forever. and i said bet that works in my favor because ! my feelings will exist forever and i can look back at them scattered all over different platforms with a shit ton of emails and separate personas and i can be like yes ! i felt that. that was real and i didn't make it up. people may see it and be like cool whatever but that still spreads my feelings and now its not just me that knows. even if it was for a moment it was known by me and a stranger and we both acknowledge that there was a point in time that i felt that way. [continued...]

PS. listen to this for the rest of this:

[continued...] i feel so disconnected from my last thoughts but im going to return to them now. ill start here:

i dont often feel seen. even with my closest friends i dont feel all the way there. i dont feel authentic all the time. i think it has a lot to do with my aversion to vulnerability and sharing your feelings. i know i already said it but i want to say it again because my friends are wonderful. they are beautiful and kind and smart and strong. i love my wonderful friends and they mean the world to me. sorry i just had to put that in there. (now im listening to savior complex) but yea. i just feel like i cant relax and breathe. i feel stiff. i feel so aware of me and my presence and how i look and move and react. i mean if were being honest i think im describing some one with some undiagnosed something but thats besides the point. the Point ! is that i find so much comfort in sharing my most private intimate thoughts online because so much satisfaction comes from knowing its potentially out there forever. because nothing is really forever but for as long as the internet is around this can potentially be around. i dont need to have kids to carry out my legacy because my internet footprint will do it for me. im pre planning in the most minimal way. i dont have to write a book or create a shit ton of movies or win a prize because i can post something completely raw and forget about it. Its really cool if you think about it. u will live forever in some capacity. this took a weird turn ! and i think this is where we cut it short but it has been a pleasure.

if any of this made sense i will give myself a pat on the back.

this made me feel very carrie bradshaw x nyt

[forbidding-souda]

Can we have Celestia, Kokichi, Byakuya, Kaede and Mondo with an S/O who is just like Mikan? Like, the trauma, the looks, the falling, the insecurity. I know it's overused, but you're my fav imagines writer and I wanted to see how you do it <3

Celestia Ludenberg, Kokichi Ouma, Byakuya Togami, Kaede Akamatsu, and Mondo Oowada with a feminine S/O who is just like Mikan headcanons

I think I say this every single time but oh my god I love requests like these so much they're so simple to write (which sounds negative? but god I don't have to overthink anything I can just be writing) plus you chose some boss ass characters I love these mfers

And I'm happy I'm your favorite <3

the mondo x mikan shippers on this blog are gonna go cray

finished this while high so if the sentences start to not make sense then i'm sorry

-Mod Souda

Celestia Ludenberg

❤ Whenever you fall over she will just watch you. If she was one to make facial expressions, she'd have a terribly strong look of defeat. Sometimes she wishes she could help you but most of the time she just accepts it as this is the way it is. A lot of the people around her always scramble to help you up, and that is something she finds completely interesting. She likes that aspect of your dramatic falls it a lot.

❤ Your insecurity is something she tries to wisp away with soft, gentle words and a touch of your cheek.

❤ That's not how it works, though, and even though she understands that better than most, she pretends not to.

❤ Your insecurity also makes her a bit insecure. Whenever she sees you not knowing your worth, it mildly reminds her of herself. The way she's learnt how to comfort you is by remembering the things you say to her when she feels down like that.

❤ If you play with your own hair in nervousness she will grab onto the strand and twirl it with her fingers.

❤ She likes the combination of you in a white dress + your bandages. It's aesthetic to her.

❤ She'll love to tie your hair up in different hairstyles she adores. She'll dress you up like a doll and have you play tea with her. Whether you enjoy this or not, you'll still do it for her, it's in turn for the way you give her unwanted tours of your intense interests.

❤ If you want her physical touch she will let you lean into her torso as she wraps her hands around you, whispering sweet things to you while trailing her ring around your shoulder.

❤ When you ramble on and she wants you to stop, she will squish your face in her hand and peck you on the lips.

❤ There's a lot of her brushing your hair away of your face too.

❤ She's just like to touch you.

❤ She's so patient with you when it comes to you believing you are ugly. She does not stand for that nonsense!

❤ There's no way she's gonna let you talking bad about your appearance slide.

❤ If you are insecure about your hair's different length then boom! She uses her beauty skills to give you an even trim.

❤ Off topic but sometimes she'll fall asleep with her head on your shoulder and it will fluster you out of control.

�� Her love for you be like the song within you from labyrinth.

.

Kokichi Ouma

❤ Before the two of you started dating he'd go out of his way to make you fall on purpose. Sometimes he'd just straight up push you over. He doesn't do this anymore (and doesn't even think about it) but-

❤ He is incredibly straight forward so his playful jabs at you went from being directed at your way of speaking to being directed at how you must be a bimbo or all-looks-no-brain to the point where you found yourself wondering: does he think I'm attractive?

❤ Which ^ even though he laid it on thick, your insecurity made you unconvinced.

❤ He tries to antagonize himself but no matter how much he scares you, you were still kind to him and wanted to help him with whatever he needed from you.

❤ You make him blush like no tomorrow.

❤ He will literally treat you like royalty once the two of you get together.

❤ He makes sure you feel secure and he makes sure nobody ever picks on you. He will socially destroy anybody who dares try and bully you or harass you.

❤ Will watch whatever horror movies you wanna watch - it's a vibe for him.

❤ Sometimes he will get rather fatherly and do things like brush your hair while you ramble on - this is an activity he considers to be something along the lines of a form of comfort whenever you are stressed.

❤ Whenever you bandage up his wounds: if it's something small you'll put a pink bandaid over it and he's like plz spare me.

❤ ^ But then make a big deal about look at how beautiful I am with my pink bandaid >:) everyone look at it.

❤ His hair is a bit choppy like yours so ya'll can twin.

❤ The large amount of friends he has is a bit threatening to you but at least they're like some of the friendliest people you've ever met in your life.

❤ The way he violently will press a million kisses into your cheek is something you almost look forward to every time he comes home.

❤ He is literally so soft when it comes to touching you and he is so careful about your boundaries but in the most casual way - you've hardly even realized he is being cautious.

.

Byakuya Togami

❤ You weren't very secretive about your trauma. When you had told him, he was very taken aback. Afterwards, it would cross his mind whenever you looked at him with that wavering smile you have.

❤ It keeps him up at night sometimes. He's never thought about somebody else's mishaps before, and he's never thought to.

❤ Your hair is something that is a work in progress because all of the disorganized hubba jubba is very unclassy. He needs it to get even lengthed (nothing else matters to him, just, can your hair not be choppy, please?).

❤ Whenever you fall he will sigh (sometimes dramatically).

❤ Sometimes he helps you up.

❤ Sometimes he just watches you.

❤ And sometimes when you fall into him, he will completely gasp as if you've offended him (with his cheeks bright pink).

❤ There's also some of him opening his mouth to ask can you hand me my glasses before being like nooo noo I shouldn't say that.

❤ suggestive sfw: your sexual innuendo stuff is something that will certainly get you kicked out of a room, especially if you only entered to bother him. He schedules out his time fairly and particularly, and you would be nice to not try and budge your way into his planner.

❤ You are the official eye of the Togami Empire, as in everybody ever has eyes on you (and the family you have within his bloodline). There's a lot of thought that goes into making sure you look comparable.

❤ ^ So :. he struggles to find the confidence in bringing you outside with him. If somebody captures you falling he might as well just burst into flames, especially if he's directly next to you (the camera are gonna capture him not even flinching).

❤ He does like the sight of you in business casual, the sight gets him a bit flustered (a bit pink in the nose, if he were to say so himself {get it? that's layered. i'm so funny}).

❤ Sometimes the buttons of your shirt break and he will strip off his top coat and make sure it covers any of your mishaps.

❤ "My lord..."

❤ Your constant apologies doesn't annoy him, actually.

❤ You get caught off guard whenever he looks at you with amazement in his eyes. Every single time you're like oh no, he's gone insane but no he is just genuinely in love with you.

❤ ^ Like before the two sleep at night, while he's peeling away his tie and unbuckled and unbottoned everything on him, he likes to have casual conversations, which is something you very much were unprepared for when you first started sharing bed. It's unsuspected to you, especially the way his glances give you the impression that he actually wants to hear what you have to say, therefore, the impression that he vaguely considers you his equal.

❤ Astonishing! It makes you flustered, but not as flustered as he makes you when he sleeps on your chest. Such a vulnerable position...

.

Kaede Akamatsu

❤ She never hesitates to help you when you fall, and this also goes for metaphorically, too. Whenever you are insecure or unsure, she will not hesitate to boost your moods and your spirits. She loves seeing you when confidence fills your face, it makes her feel good as well, knowing she can instill worthy faith into somebody she cares about.

❤ Sometimes, even when you're crying, she's going to grab your hands and start doing cheerleading poses with them. It makes everybody else in the room observe awkwardly.

❤ She can teach you how to play piano without stuttering, she can teach you how to take care of things like your fingers, and you can teach her how to take care of her hands if they were to get injured. It makes her very happy to know that you can provide quick medical treatment.

❤ She can and she will braid your guys hair together.

❤ She will also, while she's at her performances, make announcing vocalize that the piece goes out to you, so that even from a long distance you can know that she is thinking about you.

❤ Also speaking of you falling, you know she is going to like 100% glance up your skirt for at least a second whether on accident or purpose.

❤ She loves the nurse outfits that you put on sometimes. They have her saying flirty comments.

❤ She flirts with you a lot! It makes you all blushy, which causes her to say more things. She always kisses your cheek, or your forehead, or all over your face just to make sure you know she means the compliments she gives.

❤ She will leave little notes around for you to find, too. And she tries to slip notes into your lunches for work.

❤ ^ She is always busy, though, so it doesn't always work out. Whenever she can't sneak one in, she makes sure to just text you it instead.

❤ No matter how much practice she commits herself to and how many performances she has to travel to go to, she always reaches out.

❤ ^ Pshh she thinks about you all day every day, how could she not?!

❤ She takes your insecurity into deep consideration.

❤ Always asks if you're okay with the sweetest voice in the world.

❤ The apologizing and the self-deprecation is language she tries to break up, and she does succeed in changing your word choices, as she reminds you every time your brain doesn't. She's trying to get that negative affirmation business out of your mouth.

❤ She just loves how much you listen to her! If she gives advice then you're going to remember it, which is something that doesn't often happen to her, since even though she gives people tons of help, she finds they tend not to listen to her.

❤ You're a big listener.

❤ ^ (And you're a big listener when it comes to her playing piano at all hours of the night).

.

Mondo Oowada

❤ Grabs you with one hand and keeps you in his elbow before just carrying you around like that. This is fall-proof.

❤ A big romantic moment shared between the two of you is the moments that happen when you bandage him up.

❤ ^ He'll be all scrapped from hanging out and it gives you a happiness that only a nurse who loves their shirtless boyfriend can achieve.

❤ ^ He sits on the bathtub, often with an irritated look on his face, as you clean him up. He's not irritated at you, of course. He just looks like it when it comes to being so complaisant.

❤ He likes sleeping on his back while you lay on his chest. When he can't sleep, he'll just lay there and play with your hair.

❤ He knows how clumsy you are so therefore, he is very careful whenever he manages to get you on the back of his bikes. He might just install some strange form of a seatbelt just so he can make sure you don't fly off. He drives a lot of the time with you in front of him, too.

❤ Will literally just threaten to run anybody over that you are uncomfortable with - like, even if they aren't doing anything wrong, oh you're uncomfortable, say goodbye to them! (he doesn't actually do it).

❤ The presence of him behind you is a very protective thing, for sure! And he likes following you around because of it.

❤ Sometimes when he's off with his gang, one of them will get hurt, and he'll be like. "Yeah well, you know, what you're supposed to do is grab something or whatever and wrap it, I guess."

❤ ^ Very intelligent (he thinks he knows better than them because he's seen you put on a bandaid - who cares if it's a common practice, his baby is a nurse, god damnit!).

❤ He's :. less worried to get hurt in the long-run. You always get a lot calmer and a lot more natural-seeming whenever you are bandaging him, he considers that side of you to be the real you: a you without the anxiety and apologies and guilt.

❤ Which, he handles those traits as if they were nothing at all, which is both a bad and a good thing.

❤ He'll never get offended by your insecurity or your bad demeanor. He will never get mad at you for it and he will certainly never blame you or him for it existing.

❤ That does mean that he will hardly console you, instead throwing a teasing remark and patting you on the back, thinking that that is enough to calm your nerves.

❤ A part of him knows he can be doing more, but the idea of it makes him uncomfortable. He's not to good at that kinda stuff, and it's not as if he wants to, either, with is his selfishness peaking through (which he is well aware of). You always be making him scratch the back of his neck while looking off to the side.

❤ He comforts you physically, though. He will always pick you up or surround you with his warmth or pat your head or shittly massage your back. Actions speak louder than words!

❤ He does his best at consoling you when he doesn't even realize he's doing it. Sometimes, when the two of you are alone, he will just sigh in relief and say a casual line about how grateful he is for you and how much he loves you.

❤ Which, can sometimes come out as, "Wow, man... you're the perfect chick for me."

❤ Mmm! And when you get him flustered, and his loud voice starts scaring you, he will panic and just start whispering.

[psychewritesbs]

Chapter 173: Tokyo Colony No. 1, part 13: Dark ≠ Evil + The meaning of Tsumiki’s name + Takaba vs. Gojo

Happy JJK-Sundaaaaaaaaaaaay! 

Y’all.

I love Jujutsu Kaisen.

Because of the way my brain works (basically overthinking almost everything and looking for the thought process behind behavior in others), I have a hard time consuming most media because most of it is too predictable.

That’s why my favorite anime/manga are usually psychological in nature--Zankyou no Terror, Sonny Boy... Jujutsu Kaisen.

Or anime/manga that use familiar tropes and yet remain highly unpredictable: anything CLAMP, Haikyu!!... Jujutsu Kaisen.

Right. So...

Dark ≠ Evil. The idea that darkness is inherently evil is a cultural bias in the West propagated by the Judeo-Christian religion. 

Dark does not need to equal evil. 

Just think of how seeds need to be nurtured in the darkness to germinate! �� I didn’t just baby talk that imaginary seedling.

Dark ≠ Evil

When people assume that darkness = evil they are looking at “darkness” as a symbol and concept through the lens of the Judeo-Christian religion. 

But there are interpretations of darkness that do not involve the concepts of “good and evil”.

You can go Google “darkness in Buddhism,” “darkness in Taoism” and “darkness in Shintoism” if you want to get a gist of it. I have to say these depictions of darkness are probably closest to what I envision when I use a term like “Dark Megumi”... not to mention Carl Jung’s definition of the shadow.

Why those religions? Because Japanese Buddhism and Shintoism are the philosophies most likely to have influenced JJK and I personally like a lot of their esoteric teachings. 

I just felt like clarifying that because I’ve used the term Dark Megumi quite a bit and I’ve seen comments float about the interwebs about Megumi being evil vs being a good person and this or that. 

I personally don’t headcanon Megumi is evil just because he is going to go through a “Dark” arc. To me it’s more along the lines of “dark night of the soul” meets “his repressed self is going to have the spotlight moving forward” and then he’ll learn something from it because #life.

Dark ≠ Evil.

There is a lot of nuance to Megumi that is hard to put into words (which is a lot to say for someone who vomits words about Megumi as much as I do. AND, especially since I keep trying to explain the thing because I want to understand it in myself). 

Think of Megumi’s personality like a continuum. On one end is the Megumi we saw from chapters 1 through whenever he entered the colony. This is the Megumi that is in the light, the Megumi we can see that we all fell in love with.

At the other end of the spectrum is a Megumi that we had not been able to see because he was hanging out in the shadow, he was in the dark.

That Megumi hiding in the dark is creepy af and I love how Gege depicts just how despite his cool and collected “personality,” he’s actually pretty sadistic and gets super excited to fuck shit up fight.

Just look at his smile ffs.

Imagine this was your yearbook or Driver’s License photo. You’d be voted in for “most likely to kill someone”.

That’s why I’ve been (rather painstakingly) writing about Megumi’s extreme duality and how Megumi rejects both dualities in other people--which means he rejects them in himself.

I'll keep writing about Megumi’s kind, compassionate self. But I will also keep writing about his “darker”, repressed self because, just as Gojo said in chapters 3 and 4, Jujutsu Sorcerers are a little cray cray.

I didn’t miss the point, I just expanded on it. That’s what I do. I overthink. It’s not always the healthiest behavior but that’s why I meditate and do yoga.

Also, you know Megumi is a good old jolly, morally gray mess of a character when he can justify devaluing another’s life so that he can kill them for the “greater good of all”. 

I feel like this is Gege getting all Philosophy 101 with his readers.

Anyways... moving on.

So... in chapter 168, after rather brutally and violently killing that one guy, Megumi dissociated from his actions.

This chapter, I thought it was funny to see Megumi casually having a conversation with someone he had just mortally wounded.

You know. Just your average conversation with someone whose future you just ended. Just Megumi being cold blooded af.

Megumi just feels no remorse whatsoever. He totally checks some of the boxes for someone with Antisocial Personality Disorder.

If this was Yuji, or any other human being, he would be having some serious existential angst about it. And I have to say I absolutely love Yuji’s perspective on the matter.

But this is Megumi we’re talking about here, and the boy has a clear perspective of whose life matters and whose doesn’t in his eyes. 

For those he cares about he’ll put his life on the line, for those he doesn’t he is RUTHLESS AND UNFEELING... And I love it, and I can’t wait to see what Gege makes of his character arc because being “unfeeling” is nothing but a defense mechanism.

And going back to the blurred line between “good and evil,” we have Reggie giving Megumi all of his points.

If this was Sukuna, who is in fact irredeemably evil, he would be taking those points with him straight back to hell thankyouverymuch. If only because “if I can’t have them, neither can you.”

Reggie might be doing one last good deed on his way out from this plane of existence but... 

Gege just casually dropped a super cryptic message. 

Like wtf dude. Is it foreshadowing? I don’t know AND selfishly hope it isn’t. 

Gege has already teased the idea that Megumi might become a “puppet of carnage”

And now Gege is not only teasing the idea of Megumi being toyed with by fate and becoming a clown before he dies, he’s very casually introduced the idea of a pre-determined fate vs. free will.

Fck... I love Jujutsu Kaisen.

So given the religious symbolism of Angel coming down from the sky, the idea of a pre-determined fate vs. free will, and the symbolism of the clown...

Akutami Gege. 

What in the world have you got in mind for Megumi?!

The similarities to Chainsaw Man’s Aki aside (which is super unsettling because who knows what an unhinged Megumi would do)...

I also couldn’t help but be reminded about the cog symbolism in JJK and how Sorcerers are cogs in this grander machinery that is the JJK world. Aside from Jujutsu Sorcerers as cogs, cogs can also be a symbol for fate and destiny.

And since we’re talking about pre-determined fate vs. free will here... every single one of Megumi’s actions moving forward is likely to be what seals his fate as a “clown”.

Death is also another interesting symbol. If you are into tarot symbolism, then you know that the Death card is not a final destination, but a symbol for change and transformation.

AND...

I was literally just listening to a podcast in which it was mentioned that red herrings are used to keep the audience from guessing what the outcome of a story will be.

So this could very likely be a massive red herring.

Honestly, maybe I am in denial and this is face-value foreshadowing that Megumi will die and I am just over here doing mental gymnastics to convince myself otherwise, but... until then, I am sticking to @justafrenchlondoner​‘s theory that Megumi will survive to unite the clans. I’d pay to see that happen.

Also he’s my favorite. Please don’t kill him Gege.

But... can we please talk about Tsumiki’s one-panel cameo?

For the longest time I’ve been wondering if Tsumiki will be nothing more than a plot device for Megumi’s motivation.

And then we get chapter 173.

Holy 💩, Batman. I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore...

The meaning of Tsumiki’s name

So this came up because the question of whether Tsumiki is a sorcerer from the past was brought up.

The short answer is that we don’t know whether she is a sorcerer from the past or not until Gege reveals more about her. And, I do wander whether her name might hold a clue... 

(And as always, take with a grain of salt. Exercise them sexy critical thinking skills of yours!)

Since the kanji in characters’ names in JJK is not only very revealing of their personality but also an important part of the story... I started to wonder if the same was true for Tsumiki’s name.

For example...

You have Yuji’s name as a play on words about his unwavering humanity.

Ryomen Sukuna’s name literally translates to “twin/two-face + mask + something that drives evil away.”

Megumi’s name is a play on words on blessings and bowing/respect to darkness (shadow). Because darkness ≠ evil.

What about Tsumiki?

The kanji for Tsumiki is made up of 3 characters.

津美紀

津 (tsu) is the kanji used to represent the concepts for haven, port, harbor and ferry.

美 (mi) is the kanji used to represent beauty and beautiful.

紀 (ki) is the kanji used to represent chronicle, account, narrative, history, annals.

If you read it at face-value, Tsumiki's name could mean "haven + beautiful + history".

You could interpret her name to mean something along the lines of "beautiful history that serves as a haven"--which, if you think about it, is sort of congruent with how Megumi remembers her.

Tsumiki is a haven for Megumi as the one and only constant source of love and affection in a world that all but abandoned him. More importantly, she symbolizes all that is good about him--this is one of the reasons he rejects her.

HOWEVER... and this is just speculation, what happens when you get creative with the kanji in Tsumiki’s name? 

The thing about the kanji for 津 (tsu) is that it is also the kanji used in words like tsunami and tsunami earthquake. This would be a very interesting development because an earthquake and the tsunami that ensues is an incredibly destructive force of nature.

I still don’t know if the panel below is foreshadowing, but I have to wonder why Gege would draw Tsumiki in a panel where Megumi is talking about how “as long as he sees someone as a good person, he doesn’t want to see them die (no matter how dangerous)”. 

Why not draw Yuji instead? Since this is a conversation between Yuji and Megumi from chapter 9. Why Tsumiki whom we knew nothing of back in chapter 9?

BUT I was also surprised to find that 津 (tsu) is also used in words like 天津御祖 (amatsumioya) imperial ancestor and 天津乙女 (amatsuotome) celestial maiden, just to name a few.

I feel like this is a bit of a stretch but the whole idea behind 天津 (amatsu) is that it means imperial and heavenly and uses the kanji for heaven and harbor/port/haven.

As for the kanji for 紀 (ki), it is a character used to define a specific period of time in history.

You can confirm all of this using online kanji dictionaries.

Am I doing mental gymnastics to come up with these crazy ideas? Yeah maybe 😂. I’m pretty flexible because I’ve been doing yoga for years.

Is Angel actually Tsumiki?

Uh. 

I don’t know?

I don’t think anybody can know with 100% certainty until Gege confirms it. 

For all we know Tsumiki’s cameo is a red herring and Gege is just laughing at us. If I was him, as the author of a manga read by millions of people world-wide, I’d be doing my best to troll the fandom by giving them what they did not know they needed.

Sorry, I’m all over the place today.

Back to chapter 173.

What we know is that the sequence in question starts with Remi running from Kon who is slobbering after her.

There is one of two things happening here: Either Megumi was making sure she’s ok, or Megumi was trying to kill her.

I thought I was on team “Megumi was trying to kill her,” but after much deliberation, I decided I’m on team “Megumi was making sure she’s ok”. 

Megumi had been protecting Remi and worried about her all along, so the idea that he was trying to make sure she’s ok is consistent with past behavior. 

The only way it makes sense in my head for Megumi to try to kill her is if he’s lost conscious control of his shadow--quite literally and figuratively and psychologically.

This is when, just as whatever is going to happen was going to happen, “Tsumiki” interrupts him.

So wether “Tsumiki” is saying “that’s no good to kill her” or she’s saying “that’s no good to look after her”...

The interesting part is not just the meaning of what she says, but that, as @justafrenchlondoner​ pointed out, Remi hears Tsumiki’s voice.

So if Remi heard the voice, then this isn’t Tsumiki’s voice disguised as Megumi’s moral compass in his imagination, but rather Tsumiki’s actual voice--or at least a female’s voice.

I also cannot get over the word choice.

“だめだよ” (dameda yo = “that’s no good”) is an expression used to communicate how doing something is not nice or not a good idea to do so.

In context, it comes back to whether Megumi was looking to make sure Remi was safe or trying to kill her.

But if that wasn’t mindblowingly insane as it is...

Right after this happens, Megumi collapses and Angel comes down from the sky right above him. 

And Angel comes down in such a way that she looks like your average Judeo-Christian Guardian Angel. This was an image many of us grew up with.

But instead of looking after children, Angel is looking after Megumi.

The fck is happening right now? 

But there’s more...

On top of that, said Guardian Angel in question is wearing a turtle neck (most images of Tsumiki show her wearing a turtleneck top), has a hairstyle that is slightly similar to Tsumiki’s, and is coming into the scene just after Remi heard the voice telling Megumi “it’s no good”.

Either way. I can’t shake off the feeling that despite Gege using the symbolism of a Guardian Angel here, there is something sinister going on.

And yet...this could still be nothing but a red herring! 

Honestly, at this point... who knows?

Gege is unpredictable af and that’s exactly why I love JJK.

I think that for the most part it��s a pretty accepted idea within the fandom that Tsumiki would not approve of Megumi’s actions. i.e. Him killing others for her sake.

But with the way these events unfolded... is this Gege subverting expectations?

Wasn’t Angel supposed to be in Tokyo Colony No. 2 anyways?!

And... did Megumi know this was happening already but said nothing?

The way the panel is presented: “shut up stupid sister” feels like there had been communication going on between them that the audience is not aware of.

And of course... Gege leaves us with a massive cliff hanger as he makes his way to Northern Japan where Yuta is kicking ass and taking names in the Sendai colony.

I swear Yuta is the creepiest character ever in the best possible way. It’s always reassuring to know that he is actually quite the sweetheart no matter how sinister he looks.

OH! Speaking of Yuta, I am sure you’ve already seen but it looks like tickets for the JJK0 movie go out on sale on 2/25 in North America for a premiere of 3/18.

3/18 is also when the new Downton Abbey movie premieres so I guess I’ll be at the movies all day going from “rich Brits bemoaning their luck over tea at their French Riviera vacation home” to “2D characters dropping deep truth bombs like love is the greatest curse of all” in one day. 

Takaba vs. Gojo

Don’t hate me Gojo stans but... in a battle between Takaba vs. Gojo, my money is on Takaba 😂😂😂. Just because Gege is a massive troll.

I would pay money to see Gojo and Takaba go all out in battle with each other. I headcanon it would be the equivalent of the Japanese version of the Looney Tunes being Looney.

Just absolute and unadulterated ridiculousness.

Happy JJK-Sunday y’all!.

Personal

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for joining me this week as always.

You know... I had a very rough week the week prior to this one and when I sat down at the computer to write an essay I just felt so much better. This experience made me realize that writing these essays/nerding out is serious therapy for me.

I have to say I’m super grateful to Jujutsu Kaisen for helping me tap back into what I love.

Also...

This may or may not have been me...

[bluewinnerangel]

Canyon Moon = Joni Mitchell's Carey

This kinda became a bigger than anticipated Harry's Fine Line x Joni Mitchell collection, but with emphasis on Canyon Moon x Carey. A lot of bits have been posted before as part of a bigger Canyon Moon analysis but I just wanted to extract the Carey bit because it's been a while and I still just love it so so so much. I'm also gonna go as far as my brain will let me to attack you with as many parallels with her music as possible (it's a lot)

Canyon Moon lyric breakdown x Joni Mitchell (mainly Carey), how Harry has talked about it, and more parallels under the cut:

Someone else can pay close attention and come back to tell me how beautiful this all is and how the sentiments all nicely align and stuff, I'm just gonna go what I do best and dumbdumb point at similar keywords instead and you can see the beauty in the words as we go without my describing it because I do not know how have fun:

You gotta see it to believe it Sky never looked so blue

Okay keep cloudless skies in mind, I'll go over it later

We're not starting off strong here, because this is generic af to mention blue skies or even just a color, but if he's really channeling Joni Mitchell's Blue and her being the lady of the Canyon in here, which I think he is, the mention of Blue not just here but in 2 contexts with the "doors yellow broken blue" later on in the song is a nice little nudge right? Blue is full of blue (girl you're going in circles). Most of her songs mention blue, often to describe feeling low.

With these parallels I'm keeping in a lot of surrounding text just because I love it all too much. "blue" (word) lines in Blue (the album):

Then we both get so blue (followed by: I am on a lonely road and I am traveling) - All I Want

We don't need no piece of paper from the city hall keeping us tied and true. My old man keeping away my blues. He's my sunshine in the morning, he's my fireworks at the end of the day - My Old Man

He went to California hearing that everything's warmer there so you write him a letter and say, "Her eyes are blue" He sends you a poem and she's lost to you. Little green - Little Green

[interestingly no Blue in Carey]

Just the entirety of the song Blue but: Blue, songs are like tattoos, You know I've been to sea before, Crown and anchor me or let me sail away // Blue, I love you - Blue

And the streets are full of strangers, All the news of home you read just give you the blues - California.

And that's just side 1 of Blue.

So hard to leave it That's what I always do

Oh, you know it sure is hard to leave here, Carey But it's really not my home - Carey

So I keep thinking back to A time under the canyon moon

(+You gotta see it to believe it, sky never looked so blue)

Rows and floes of angel hair And ice cream castles in the air And feather canyons everywhere I've looked at clouds that way But now they only block the sun They rain and snow on everyone So many things I would have done But clouds got in my way I've looked at clouds from both sides now From up and down, and still somehow It's cloud illusions I recall I really don't know clouds at all Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels The dizzy dancing way you feel As every fairy tale comes real I've looked at love that way - Both Sides Now

Colors up the sunshine hours Pouring music down the canyon Coloring the sunshine hours They are the ladies of the canyon - Ladies of the Canyon

But there's also just Carey again, as if Canyon Moon is thinking back to the time described in Carey:

The night is a starry dome. And they're playin' that scratchy rock and roll Beneath the Matala Moon - Carey

The world's happy waiting Doors yellow, broken, blue

Okay I'm gonna go a bit cray here, but a parallel is a parallel... so on the album Ladies Of The Canyon you got Blue Boy, that ends in standing in a door, followed by Big Yellow Taxi, with a yellow door:

Lady called the blue boy, love, she took him home // He will come a few times more till he finds a lady statue standing in a door in her door, oh - Blue Boy (I kinda just removed all the context of the song here and I hate it but this post is a book pretty much with all the lyrics my god)

Late last night I heard the screen door slam And a big yellow taxi took away my old man - Big Yellow taxi

I heard Jenny saying "Go get the kids from school"

(there really isn't a parallel here but I'm doing it anyway)

Just a little green like the color when the spring is born There'll be crocuses to bring to school tomorrow - Little Green

I'll be gone too long from you

Maybe it's been too long a time - Carey

Staring at the ceiling Two weeks and I'll be home

Last night I couldn't sleep (Oh, you know it sure is hard to leave here Carey but it's really not my home) - Carey

Carry the feeling

or is it Carey the feeling hmMMMm yeah

yeah

yuh

im good

Through Paris, all through Rome

Maybe I'll go to Amsterdam or maybe I'll go to Rome - Carey

And I miss my clean white linen and my fancy French cologne - Carey

Sitting in a park in Paris, France // But I wouldn't wanna stay here // Oh, but California, California I'm coming home - California

(I'll copypaste a bunch of Paris lyrics later on)

I'm going, oh, I'm going I'm going, oh, I'm going I'm going, oh, I'm going home

Oh, but California, California I'm coming home - California

Quick pause in conversation She plays songs I've never heard An old lover's hippie music Pretends not to know the words

And rent me a grand piano and put some flowers 'round my room But let's not talk about fare-thee-wells now The night is a starry dome. And they're playin' that scratchy rock and roll Beneath the Matala Moon - Carey

Colors up the sunshine hours Pouring music down the canyon Coloring the sunshine hours They are the ladies of the canyon - Ladies of the Canyon

This really reminds me of this live version of Carey:

But besides her quick pauses in conversations, playing her old lover's hippie music pretending not to know the words lol, I just think this is a nod to maybe the people he's met on his journey chasing his inspirations and maybe even more specifically that dulcimer (mentioned in the Rolling Stone bit below) and you know.. all that. If you read the rbit below, it looks like he also brought up Stevie Nicks in regards to this song, and I can't help relate this bit to her as well.

-----------------------------------

I'm done making links of which half are probably just not it and are effectively drowning out the bits that very much are it, sucks to be them, anyway, now we're going to the part where he just told us Canyon Moon is Carey's baby. You can hear it, you can see it, but he also pretty much said it. He’s described being obsessed with Blue as being “in a big Joni hole”, and talked about it specifically relating to Canyon Moon. Or at least, it's implied in this Rolling Stone interview as its under that heading there(pasting paste all the mentions here but it's a bit repetitive):

I do think he called Canyon Moon "Crosby, Stills, and Nash on steroids" because of its sound and not necessarily because of the following, but I find it very very interesting how Carey is the only song on Blue with Stills credits:

hmmHMMMmmmm

------------------------------

Some more Joni related rambling:

His Joni hole seems to date all the way back to at least 2013, with the famous tweet:

Also the way the song’s called Canyon Moon. Even without her mentions of Canyons and Moons in her lyrics I’d of course place my bets on that referring to the Laurel Canyon because of its link with an old lover’s hippie music from the Laurel Canyon and Ladies of the Canyon’s Joni Mitchell.

And man don't you just love the tracklist of Blue, Carey there between My Old Man + Little Green and Blue all fine ALL FINE:

And I just want to point out that Blue is in itself doing this whole trick with colors (blue, green, black, silver and white, and perhaps more notably the lack of others), with the color blue (mostly used to describe loneliness) mentioned in all songs on side 1 with the only exception being Carey.

As for other parallels with this album and Fine Line, there’s loads, perhaps California being second closest to Canyon Moon besides Carey, and also this recurrent mention of café’s (and the way it’s mentioned [in relation to a relationship going (not) well and (not) meeting there kinda thing] just makes me think of the beachwood café line). Then in terms of sound I’d say Canyon Moon comes close to Carey (yep again) and Big Yellow Taxi, which Harry covered:

If you're not sick of the parallels and being all over the place yet (man you got some spare braincells there if you're not) let's just drag in all of fine line:

1. Fine Line x Both Sides Now is a big one.

2. You're something to hang up in a gallery or something:

Tired eyes are the death of me, Mouth full of toothpaste, Before I got to know you, I've got your face, Hung up high in the gallery, Out of this shade - Sunflower vol 6

vs (sorry I'm having a hard time not including any of these lyrics I know it's a lot a lot:)

When I first saw your gallery I liked the ones of ladies. Then you began to hang up me, You studied to portray me, In ice and greens and old blue jeans and naked in the roses, then you got into funny scenes that all your work discloses // "Lady, don't love me now I am dead I am a saint, turn down your bed I have no heart," that's what you said You said, "I can be cruel but let me be gentle with you" // I gave you all my pretty years then we began to weather and I was left to winter here while you went west for pleasure // When I first saw your gallery I liked the ones of ladies but now their faces follow me and all their eyes look shady - The Gallery

3. Golden but we're also caught in a devils bargain requiring an antidote and also we gotta get back to the sunlit garden bro:

Golden, golden, golden, As I open my eyes, Hold it, focus, hoping, Take me back to the light // I can feel it take a hold, I can feel you take control, Of who I am and all I've ever known, Loving you's the antidote - Golden

vs

We are stardust, Billion year old carbon, We are golden, Caught in the devil's bargain and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden - Woodstock

4. Cafe's used as a physical place to describe how a relationship is (no longer) going well:

And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you, And the coffee's out, At the Beachwood Cafe, And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say - Falling

vs

He brings me songs to play. He sees me when he pleases I see him in cafes and I only say hello and turn away before his lady knows how much I want to see him, She removes him like a ring to wash her hands, She only brings him out to show her friends, I want to free him - Conversation

Come on down to the Mermaid Café and I will buy you a bottle of wine // Oh Carey, get out your cane I'll put on my finest silver, We'll go to the Mermaid Café Have fun tonight I said, oh, you're a mean old Daddy, but you're out of sight - Carey

And I said, "Constantly in the darkness Where's that at? If you want me I'll be in the bar" - A Case Of You

I don't want nobody comin' over to my table, I got nothing to talk to anybody about, All good dreamers pass this way some day, Hidin' behind bottles in dark cafés, dark cafés, Only a dark cocoon before I get my gorgeous wings and fly away, Only a phase, these dark café days - the Last time I Saw Richard

/ being free:

I deal in dreamers and telephone screamers Lately I wonder what I do it for If I had my way I'd just walk through those doors And wander down the Champs-Élysées Going café to cabaret Thinking how I'll feel when I find That very good friend of mine I was a free man in Paris I felt unfettered and alive Nobody was calling me up for favors No one's future to decide You know I'd go back there tomorrow But for the work I've taken on Stoking the star-maker machinery Behind the popular song - Free Man In Paris

Downtown The dance halls and cafes Feel so wild you could break somebody's heart Just doing the latest dance craze Gail and Louise In those push up brassieres Tight dresses and rhinestone rings Drinking up the band's beers Young love was kissing under bridges Kissing in cars Kissing in cafes - In France They Kiss On Main Street

5. Just songs that scream Harry?

Blue? the song? in its entirety? I absolutely see him drowning himself in this treasure:

Blue

Blue Songs are like tattoos You know I've been to sea before Crown and anchor me Or let me sail away

Hey, blue There is a song for you Ink on a pin Underneath the skin An empty space to fill in

Well, there's so many sinking now You gotta keep thinking You can make it through these waves Acid, booze, and ass Needles, guns, and grass Lots of laughs

Lots of laughs

Everybody's saying that Hell's the hippest way to go Well, I don't think so But I'm gonna take a look around it, though Blue, I love you

Blue, there is a shell for you Inside you'll hear a sigh A foggy lullaby Thеre is your song from me

And CONVERSATION? Don't imagine these songs comforting Harry man I'm crying in a corner. And again, this song has loads of parallels to Canyon Moon. I think, besides Carey, this one's has got to be a huge inspiration as well.

Conversation (from Ladies of the Canyon)

He comes for conversation I comfort him sometimes Comfort and consultation He knows that's what he'll find

I bring him apples and cheeses He brings me songs to play He sees me when he pleases I see him in cafes

And I only say, "Hello" And turn away before his lady knows How much I wanna see him She removes him like a ring To wash her hands She only brings him out to show her friends I wanna free him

Secrets and sharing soda That's how our time began Love is a story, told to a friend It's second hand

But I'll listen to his questions I'll give my answers when they'rе found He says she keeps him guessing But I know shе keeps him down

She speaks in sorry sentences Miraculous repentances I don't believe her Tomorrow he will come to me And he'll speak his sorrows endlessly And he'll ask me why Why can't I leave her?

He comes for conversation I comfort him sometimes Comfort and consultation He knows that's what he'll find He knows that's what he'll find

I'm almost done but, CALIFORNIA? Another one man, really:

California

Sitting in a park in Paris, France Reading the news and it sure looks bad They won't give peace a chance That was just a dream some of us had Still a lot of lands to see But I wouldn't wanna stay here It's too old and cold and settled in its ways here

Oh, but California California, I'm coming home I'm gonna see the folks I dig I'll even kiss a sunset pig California, I'm coming home

I met a redneck on a Grecian isle Who did the goat dance very well He gave me back my smile But he kept my camera to sell Oh, the rogue, the red, red rogue He cooked good omelets and stews And I might have stayed on with him there

But my heart cried out for you, California Oh, California, I'm coming home Oh, make me feel good rock 'n roll band I'm your biggest fan California, I'm coming home

Oh, it gets so lonely When you're walking And the streets are full of strangers All the news of home you read Just give you the blues Just give you the blues

So I bought me a ticket I got on a plane to Spain Went to a party down a red dirt road There were lots of pretty people there Reading Rolling Stone, reading Vogue They said, "How long can you hang around?" I said a week, maybe two Just until my skin turns brown

Then I'm going home to California California, I'm coming home Oh, will you take me as I am? Strung out on another man California, I'm coming home

Oh, it gets so lonely When you're walking And the streets are full of strangers All the news of home you read More about the war And the bloody changes

Oh, will you take me as I am? Will you take me as I am? Will you? Will you take me as I am? Mmm, mmm Take me as I am, mmm

So yeah, Joni Mitchell, man. Good stuff.

[breakonthru]

hi! can you please write a fear street story where the reader was in love with simon and the feeling was mutual but he yk. so the night that sam goes cray the reader visits deena’s house but to talk out her feelings with josh since he also lost someone he cared about (kate). and they can just talk about how much they miss them and what they loved about them. thank you! <3

CW: angst? for once?, mentions of death, run on sentences and wallowing in pity, i guess!!

a/n: I don’t write for josh (platonically or romantically) but i thought id try my hand at writing this! ALSO THIS IS PLATONIC IDK IF I SPECIFIED THAY CLEARLY ENOUGH IN MY WRITING

tonight was, quite simply, the worst night of your life. not only had you been chased by some stupid fucking undead killers, you lost the one boy you had ever loved and your best friend all in the same night, right after confessing to the former. and it wasn’t like the police were any help, either (not that you expected them to be- the pigs).

so, here you sat, cold and shivering in the basement of your other, much more alive best friend and her brother, nursing a room temperature juice box as you held a ice pack to the poorly tended to razor-blade cut on your cheek (a run in with a singing lady your boyfriend had been acquainted with. you don’t care to recall the details.)

the click-clacking of josh’s mechanical keyboard brings you out of your depressive state. it had been so simple for him to reapply his mask of normality- forgetting the fact he had almost died, and his friends hadn’t been so lucky.

“how do you do it?” you found yourself asking. damn your mouth for acting before your brain could catch up with it.

“do what?” the boy replied, moving part of his headphone away from his ear to listen more clearly. it had always bothered you how loudly he played his music, though maybe you could forgive him just this once.

“act like we didn’t just watch the people we’ve been crushing on for years get murdered by undead killers.”

there was a beat of silence, the two of you reminiscing on just how much you had been through.

“i don’t like not having anything to do.” he began. “sitting here doing nothing only makes me remember it more and more sad- more empty.” josh shrugged. “and,” he began. “i feel like i need to tell their story, even if people don’t listen. kate and simon should be remembered truthfully. they deserve that much.”

“deserved.”

“yeah, deserved.” josh frowned.

“i miss him.” you murmured, unaware of the teardrops hitting your bloodied overalls you had acquired in the lost and found.

“i miss her.” he agreed. the two of you met eyes, an unspoken understanding floating between the two of you. “she had so much ahead of her, and- and, she brightened any room she walked into… just with her being there.”

“simon- he… he was good, overwhelmingly so.” you laughed through the tears. josh’s hand held yours tightly as you continued. “he was so much more than just some class clown.”

“i know.”

“i miss them.” you murmur.

“i know.” he embraces you. “i do, too.”

“josh?”

“yeah?” he whispers, ignoring the way your arms tighten around his shoulders.

“don’t die. i can’t have someone else die.” a sniffle. then silence.

“i won’t.”

the two of you stay like that, two friends bound by an equal suffering, until a scream from above causes you to part.

and so round two begins, you supposed.