#time to go reblog a bunch of stuff to push this down my page

[dreamingmanip]

“MADNESS LOVE” PART 2

*GIF NOT MINE*

You can find part 1 here.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: None (if I need one let me know in my ask!)

Prompt: NONE

Word Count: 2,026

A/N: Hi guys! Like I said before, this is part 2 of 3 for this imagine. I loved this fic so much I could’t stop writing. I hope you liked it, like always if you like this, please like it and reblog it. This would be pin on my page so you can find it without problems.

The tears kept rolling down your face all the way home, you didn't bother to wipe them away when you met your neighbor in the lobby, asking you if you were okay. You weren't, you were holding yourself to not break down in the middle of the hallway, making a scene. 

Your keys jingled while you opened the front door, your hands trembling; you shut the door behind you. There was some light coming from outside the window but mostly it was dark,and that's how you felt, as if somebody took the light inside you leaving you blind. You leaned you back on the door, your body sliding down to the cold floor, sitting there looking at nothing. A cell phone started ringing in the distance but you didn't want to move. Your eyes fluttered trying to focus in the dark, searching in your jacket for it, the screen on the phone  glowed  and illuminated your face, Jay's name showed up, and the killing pain came back to your chest just looking at his name, so you decided to turn it off. 

God knows how long you were there until you decided to stand up and go to your room to take a shower, put on some pajamas and grabbed the bottle of wine that was in the back of your fridge taking it to your room. Jay's words echoing in your head, over and over again.

Did he commit to his job, to his Unit, that he was fine letting you go? His words were etched in your mind. Of course you understood the full situation, he was right; you were the new still, not a detective, but that wasn't what was hurting you, it was realizing how he believed you both could never say anything because your jobs were more important. 

Somehow you fell asleep before finishing the bottle of wine. The clock on your nightstand began to chime, it seemed that you had barely fallen asleep. Your room was still dark thanks to the curtains but some rays of sun could creep in. You stretched out your hand to turn off the alarm, and at the same time, your cell phone began to ring, you probably turned it on again in the middle of the night, you were a cop and sometimes you did stuff automatically; you raised it a little to be able to answer.

"Hello?"

“Hey Y/N, please don’t tell me you were still in bed.”

Your voice was a little croaky when you spoke.

“Uhm, no I wasn’t. My throat feels weird this morning, so… yeah.”

Kim’s voice was joyful even on the phone, you turned to see the clock, in a bright green color it said “8:15 AM”. You sat up immediately, moving the soft sheets wrapped on your body away while Kim was still talking.

“...So I called Kevin and we decided to bring you some donuts and your favorite coffee before the event. We’re 10 minutes away.”

“Fuck”.

You murmured getting in the bathroom. Kim looked at Kevin a little concerned.

“Sorry Kim, I spilled some water on the table but, uhm, yeah. See you in 10”.

Ending the call, you got in the shower, didn’t even wait for the warm water so you screamed a little feeling the coldness on your skin. The fastest shower you ever took in your life, leaving you with only five minutes to get dressed up and do your hair. 

You were in the final touches of your makeup when a few small knocks on the front door warned you of the arrival of Burgess and Atwater. Taking one last look at the mirror to put a smile on your face before one of them would notice something, you felt anxious and devastated and trying to hide it from officers and detectives required a lot of self control.

Both of your friends smiled when you opened the door, Kim was holding a little box with cartoon drawings of donuts on the top while Kevin was offering you a cup of your favorite coffee. All of you wearing uniforms.

“Thanks guys, I barely ate something this morning”.

You took the coffee from Kevin’s hand, taking a little sip before walking out of your apartment, closing the door behind you. The three of you were talking about random stuff all the way to the car and to the downtown, well, Kim was the one talking with Kevin, you were mentally preparing yourself to see Jay, it wasn’t working at all.

“So Y/N, Jay called me last night, which was a little weird if I have to admit, he asked me about you”.

Kim was looking at you through the view rear mirror, you blinked a couple of times without saying anything. Why did Jay call Kim to ask her for you? You had no idea and that's exactly what you said.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was at home last night. He’s weird sometimes you know that.”

“I know, right? He asked me if you were with me last night but we were at Molly’s. Adam, Hailey, Kevin and I, we miss you by the way.”

Kevin looked at you, knowing something went wrong between you and Jay.

“We invited Halstead to celebrate but he said he was busy filling some forms for Trudy after shift.”.

“Well, I don’t know him so well. I think he prefers to be alone. Look, the press is here too”.

You passed some news cars, reporters were setting their cameras to get a better view. Jay hated this, he wasn’t comfortable seeing his face on the paper just for doing his job and also Voight taught them that when his unit was formed, and everyone did almost the same.

You got out of the car after Kevin parked near the place. Hailey was the first who noticed you, she raised her hand and started to wave it. You smiled, Kim was doing the same and started walking towards her, Kevin patted your shoulder making you go slowly.

“What happened last night? Jay called me too, he said he was worried about you”.

“Well, he doesn't have to do that anymore. We’re done”. 

“Wait, what?”

Kevin stopped for a moment, that news caught him by surprise.

“Y/N, are you sure of this? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll support any decision you make, all the way, but I know your feelings. Working together could get harder.”

You nodded your head, you knew it. It was going to get hard in every possible way, seeing him every morning not able to steal a kiss from each other at the coffee room or staying up watching a movie with your head on his chest; suddenly a bunch of memories came back to your mind, you shook your head slowly, you gave him a side smile.

“Kev, I got this. I’m gonna be fine. C’mon”.

You bumped his arm with yours while you reached out to Hailey and Kim, for a moment Hailey looked at you and nodded, Jay talked to her too. You nodded back to her.

A few moments later, Voight and Trudy joined you. In the place there were a small, but considerable, number of people but no matter how much you searched with your eyes, you could not find Jay. The coordinators asked you to take your seats, for obvious reasons the Intelligence Unit was in the front row, it wasn't until that moment that you could see Jay in his uniform, you had always liked the way he looked in it. However, he didn't seem very happy, he seemed calm but you noticed the pressure on his jaw, his straight shoulders and his gaze in front of him, but he wasn't looking at you.

He was sitting next to some superiors in the platform in front of you. The Superintendent stepped up to the microphone to start his speech, some photographers started to point their cameras to the people and then to the "big hero". 

The ceremony wasn't too long, you all met in the back while reporters were asking now questions to some people. Voight was smiling, which was rare, while Jay was walking towards the group. 

Adam was the first to talk, and like always, started to make some jokes. 

"There he is, the super cop Jay Halstead. The man of the year!"

He padded Jay's shoulder, he had a shy smile on his lips. Uncomfortable by all the attention he was receiving. 

"Thanks Ruzek, I think the cartel in Mexico didn't hear you". 

Everybody laughed, including you. Jay looked at you for a moment, actually felt more like 2 seconds. 

"Alright, let's go back to the district and back to work. We can celebrate later at Molly's". 

Voight spoke and all dismissed to the cars, you went with Kevin again, this time Kim decided to ride with Ruzek, the awkward sensation was still there so she didn't want it to push it further and make you uncomfortable. Once inside the car, you kept quiet all the way, Kevin knew you were lying but he also knew how you dealt with a broken heart. 

You went to the locker room and just arrived at the district, it was too damn warm to keep it all day, also it was used just for events like this. When you got to the door you spotted Hailey, she was putting her badge on her belt. You kept your head down, trying to avoid her, you greet her with a quiet voice. 

"Uhm Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?" 

"Yeah, sure."

Hailey closed the door and crossed her arms on her chest, her  cautious blue eyes looking back at you. 

"Look, when Jay told me he was dating you, I told him it was stupid. Not worth it if your careers could be over just for a romance that could last just a few months". 

You knew Hailey, she was a bad ass woman and probably didn't say it to her so often but you admire her. She was serious, she didn't like to play games when it comes to her friends. 

"I'm sorry for telling you this, but that was before seeing how good you are together as partners and as a couple. I was scared for both of you because I love you and I care about you. I'm not on Jay's side or your side, left me out that but Y/N, it's not easy to Jay open his heart like he did with you. He doesn't want to lose you and I guess the only way he can control that feeling it's not letting anybody know about it. Forgive me if I was a little obtrusive". 

You didn't notice there were a few tears on your cheek, cleared your throat to be available to speak but you failed at finding the right words, it took you a few seconds to speak. 

"It's okay Hailey, but what about me? What about my feelings? I know Jay is right, we could lose our jobs but, why make me feel like his dirty secret?"

Hailey took a few steps closer, her blue eyes now looking sad.

"Of course your feelings are valid. Don't get me wrong, I have been in that position before and it's not easy. All I'm saying is, you shouldn't leave things unspoken, this stuff gets heavy later."

She hugged you tight, rubbing your back. You held her too, she knew what she was talking about, you never asked before 'cause she was very private but you believed her at anything she said. 

After changing your clothes, you came back to the bullpen, nobody was talking, you sat at your chair and looked around; it seemed like everybody was tense for no reason. Voight was in his office and the unit was on some paperwork. You felt someone looking at you, directly. There was no need to look up, you knew Jay was looking at you from time to time. You haven’t talked to each other yet, you needed to, but that wasn’t the right place.

Tagged some beautiful people ✨:

@itsdesiree86 @mrspeacem1nusone  @anotherfan07 @thestarrynightslover

[believinghurts]

Their Daughter Pt 4

Warnings: Crying, yelling, mentions of blood, body harm

Check out the other parts on my Masterlist before reading this! Reblog, like, or comment!  The week and a half at Malfoy Manor passed way too fast for Ali’s liking. In all honesty, she wasn’t looking forward to spending the rest of her summer with the Weasley bunch and Potter. School started in three weeks as it was and she knew that she would be seeing plenty of them there, and spending even more time with them made her want to vomit. She felt like she was able to breathe when she was with the Malfoys. She missed her Uncles but spending so much time with Narcissa and her friends helped take her mind off of everything. 

After their first trip to Diagon Alley, they want another time just Narcissa and Ali to spend some quality time together and that’s how Ali was ending up with a trunk so full she and Draco had to sit on it to close it, her friends were around the Manor a lot more. Pansy, Theo, and Blaise had stayed the night after their families had dinner together meaning that they all slept in the living room after talking late into the night. Ali was woken up by her aunt shaking her awake, telling her that if she wanted Blaise to stay breathing she needed to move. Somehow that night the two had ended up right beside each other with Ali’s head on Blaise's right arm while his left was under his head. This was something that Draco now used to blackmail Ali into doing things he didn’t want to do since he knew his father would murder any boy that so much looked at Ali. 

Ali sighed before calling the house-elf to take her trunk downstairs. Doing a quick once over of her royal blue bedroom she grabbed her wand before making her way down the stairs. She left to go back home today and as excited as she was to see Regulus and Remus, the knot forming in her stomach at seeing Sirius made her ill. Her confidence had grown some after talking with Narcissa about what was going on at home. Cissa assured her that Sirius was just being Sirius and not seeing the hurt he was inflicting. Ali wanted to believe her aunt's words that he would come around more when he knew that the Malfoys were not a threat. She had made sure Ali knew that she was just as good if not better than the Potter boy because she didn’t judge anyone no matter their house. Draco was livid when he found out what was happening between Sirius and Ali, blaming it all on Potter for being the snake that he feared Draco was so much. Draco had made her swear that if Harry or anyone said anything to make her upset that she would write Draco right away and he would be there in a heartbeat. 

“I knew that dress would look stunning on you,” Narcissa stood as Ali entered the living room. Ali smiled at her aunt as she kissed her on the cheek. She did a little spin when Narcissa motioned her to do so causing the dark blue dress to flare out at the bottom right above her knees. Cissa had insisted she bought it even if it wasn’t something Ali would have normally worn. She had paired it with her favorite white combat boots and black tights making the little white spots on the sleeves stand out even more. Narcissa hugged Ali once more, and Ali knew she didn’t want to send her back to Grimmauld Place, but school started soon and Ali wanted to spend some more time with Regulus and get her stuff ready.  “We are going to miss you so don’t forget to write, and we will see you at the train station.” 

Ali nodded, hugging her aunt close before moving onto Lucius who kissed her cheek wishing her good luck at home and to write if she needed anything. Draco was last, he tried to act indifferent, but Ali knew he didn’t want her to leave. She stuck her hand out causing him to roll his eyes before pulling her into a hug. Draco had grown quite a bit the last couple of years making Ali eye level with his shoulder. “Write to me the minute something goes wrong, and I’ll be there to save you. Potter be damned.” 

Ali giggled, “Of course, Dray. Behave for mother, and make sure if you see our friends that you tell them I’ll see them soon.”

Ali grabbed her trunk while Lucius called for Winks the house-elf to come apparate Ali back home. She gave her extended family one last smile before grabbing Winks's hand. They landed across the street of Grimmauld Place, Ali gave Winks a bar of chocolate out of her pocket before bidding goodbye. She walked in the door hearing noise coming from the living room and dining area. It was just after lunch so she assumed everyone was still hanging out there. She debated going straight to her room first but decided not to. She pulled her trunk behind her till she reached the dining room. There everyone was, immediately Ali wished she was back at the Manor where it was peaceful and she wasn’t getting stared at like she was right now. She pulled down the sleeves on her dress a little more not noticing how big of a mistake that was. 

She saw Regulus standing in the corner, he smiled at her. Regulus was happy that Ali got to stay away for a little bit. He was able to give Sirius a piece of his mind, which happened often, without Ali overhearing. Screaming matches could be heard coming from the study more often than not after someone made rude comments about Ali or her friends. Sirius still had acted like Ali was staying with the Dark Lord himself instead of family and it had pushed Regulus to the edge more than once. Regulus knew that Remus was on the same page as him, he was over the comments from Sirius. Regulus had noticed that Harry didn’t say anything bad about her or Slytherins if Remus was present. He had taken a liking to the oldest two Weasleys and Fleur, they were nice to Ali and Fleur often defended her by saying kind things. Regulus knew that Fleur stuck out in the Weasley family, he had seen the looks some of the younger ones would give her. He felt bad for her and often tried to make sure she felt comfortable, much like he knew she did for Ali. 

Ali hugged her uncle tight, she had missed the safety feeling that came from burying herself in his chest. Remus was quick to join the two, squeezing Ali to him before kissing her head. Ali quickly tucked herself back into Regulus' side. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, “How was it? Did you have fun?” 

Ali smiled at him and Remus, “I did. Pansy, Blaise, and Theo stayed over after we had dinner with their families. Cissa took me shopping, twice mind you. Draco almost made the house explode with some potion he was trying to make to dye Theos hair. It was supposed to change with his mood, but instead, it ended up all over the ceiling. Aunt Cissa didn’t stop yelling at him for an hour,” She laughed at the memory of Draco’s face while his mother yelled that he had ruined her ceiling. “Um, what else?” She knew Regulus wanted to know exactly what she did. He was always interested in her life often making her tell stories from school in detail. She was never allowed to leave with just a generic ‘fine’ that some teenagers got away with. “Oh Lucius took us to Hogsmede, claiming that it was to get Cissa some sugar quills, but the number of chocolate frogs said differently. Oh, Cissa told me to tell you that she ordered me new school robes and that you needed to pick them up or she could bring them to the station.” 

“You didn’t tell me you needed robes?” Regulus raised his eyebrow, surely she would have told him if she needed something like that. 

“Oh I don’t, but Draco did since he grew again and Cissa said I should just get some so I have extras. I-” 

“Why don’t you just brag some more,” an icy voice cut her off. Ali looked to see Sirius standing behind Harry with his hands on his shoulders. She hadn’t noticed him when she came in so she was wondering what all he had heard. She wasn’t bragging about anything. She knew the Weasley’s had financial problems, but this was her home. She was allowed to talk about things she did with her Aunts even if it was out spending an obscene amount of money. 

“I-I wasn’t bragging,” Ali stuttered, “I just was telling Uncle Regulus what I-I had done.” 

“Oh yeah right. You had fun, right? That’s good,” Sirius walked around the table towards Ali who naturally stepped closer to Regulus. Her uncle tensed when he saw that Ali was scared of his brother. “So why are you wearing long sleeves? It’s like 80 degrees out. You must be warm in them.” 

“Sirius,” Remus’s tone was a warning. He knew what Sirius was thinking, but he had hope that Sirius knew not to do it. 

Sirius ignored Remus continuing to walk towards his brother and daughter. “You decided that you wanted to match Regulus too? Spend some time with the Dark Lord the past couple of weeks?” 

“Sirius you stop this instant she didn’t do anything,” Molly spoke up for the girl while pushing the other children out of the room. She tried to get Harry to leave but gave up after he insisted he stayed where he was.

“No, Molly, cause you to see Regulus was her age when he got the mark. And I’m starting to wonder if Ali doesn't have it as well. Spies the both of them. Playing the part of perfect uncle and niece. Show me your arm, Alianova.” 

Ali stayed where she was, not moving an inch. She felt her breath pick up as Sirius walked closer. “Ali, I said show me your arm.” She shook her head no. She didn’t have anything to hide, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of listening to him. He hadn’t earned her trust or respect at this point. Sirius reached out and grabbed Ali’s arm. That was when all Hell broke out. 

Sirius had enough time to push her sleeve up before he was shoved back by Regulus. Ali cried out when Sirius’s nails dug into her skin hard enough to bleed. Remus grabbed Sirius, pulling him back while he stared in shock at Ali who had tears streaming down her cheek staring at him in disbelief. 

Regulus lunged at Sirius only to be held back by Bill Weasley, “Stop. Stop, Regulus. Ali needs you. Go.” He lightly pushed Regulus back towards Ali. Regulus felt this heart crack in his chest when he saw that Ali sitting on the floor holding her arm to her chest. Her tears dripping down her chin as she watched Remus pace in front of Sirius who was still looking at her. 

Regulus knelt beside Ali gently pulling her arm to him revealing the four scratch marks on the pale flesh. Each had drops of blood running down the sides. Regulus grabbed the tea towel off the counter-pressing it to the wound. Ali leaned into his shoulder letting her tears catch on the fabric of his shirt. She was trembling from the shock that someone who was supposed to love her could hurt her like this. She had always known of the Black Temper; it was famous really. But even when she saw her grandmother and Regulus angry, they had never hurt her. Sirius was her father; it was his job to protect her was it not? She understood that he never wanted her, she was a mistake. Ali had come to terms when that a long time ago, but for him to actively hurt her shook her to her core. Ali was focused on Regulus, but from the corner of her eye, she could see Remus shaking with rage at Sirius. Regulus cupped her cheeks in his hands wiping away her falling tears. “Are you okay?” 

She numbly nodded at her uncle. “Ali, I am so sorry-”

“NO,” The venom in Ali’s voice shocked those that were in the room as she stood with Regulus’s help. “No. You don’t get to apologize. You knew what you were doing and you didn’t care! You never have. And never will. I get it okay?” Ali walked towards Sirius so she was a couple of feet in front of him, but near the stairs to make her exit if she couldn't handle it anymore. “I know that I wasn’t planned or wanted. I know that I’m not Harry Bloody Potter, but you know what I am? I’m YOUR daughter. That doesn’t matter, does it? You don’t care that it's your job to raise me and protect me and love me. You never did it. I have no memories of you. Not one. My uncles told me how good of a parent you were when I was little, but I don’t believe that anymore. Hell, if someone told me you put me in a room and left me there it would be more believable.” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose letting out a sigh. She never stood up to people much, but she was sick and tired of Sirius thinking he could act like this towards her. “I used to look up to you. I never listened to the bad things people said because I thought you were good. I wanted to make you proud of me even if I never got to meet you. Then you got out. But instead of coming for your flesh and blood, you came for him,” She flung her arm in Harry’s general direction. “You were never there for me. That’s fine too. Wanna know why? Because I have people who are always there for me. People who love me unconditionally, and make me see that I am enough. Do you know who those people are? A big chunk of them is the Malfoys. I had a lot of fun staying with them, but one of my favorite parts was when Lucius told me that even if you didn’t see how great of a daughter I was that he and Regulus did. The Lucius Malfoy made ME feel better because you treat me like rubbish.” 

Ali walked closer to Sirius. The only noise in the room was coming from her, and if she stopped talking a pin dropping could be heard. Regulus was stunned by her outburst but knew deep down that it was coming. Sirius had pushed her too far, and once Ali was done it was going to take a lot more than Bill Weasley to hold him back. “I have never called anyone else ‘Dad’, but now I regret it. Regulus is more of my father than you could ever be. I hope you have fun with your son.” She spat looking Sirius in the eye before turning on her heel fleeing up the stairs. Tears fell again as she shut and locked her door behind her, sliding down the other side of it. Even if what she said was true it didn’t mean that it hurt any less knowing that Sirius would never choose her. 

Downstairs Regulus was fuming. He was shocked that Ali called him ‘dad’ even if he had wanted that for as long as he could remember. But the other part of him wanted to break Sirius in half. He felt the rage coming back from when he was a child. He felt the urge to kill but knew that he wouldn’t. He couldn’t think of himself, he had too much at stake. He hadn’t been able to think of himself for the last fifteen years. Sirius had done a lot of messed up things in his life, but this took the cake. Regulus forgave him a long time ago for him leaving, and for the bullying that he did to Regulus through school, but this was unforgivable. Ali was a child who didn’t understand why she wasn’t good enough or why her father was hell-bent on her being on the side with the Dark Lord when she was the furthest away from him. 

Regulus stood brushing off his hands on his pants before stalking towards Sirius how a predator stalks its prey. He saw Bill and Arthur move forward a few inches more than likely ready to intervene if needed. Remus’s eyes had a little more green in them than normal probably due to the rage he was feeling and the fact that the full moon was less than a week away. It was honestly shocking that Remus hadn’t thrown Sirius into the wall yet. Regulus stopped when he was toe to toe with his brother.

 “How dare you do what you just did to her! She is a child, Sirius. She is supposed to be your child,” Regulus’s voice was eerily calm when he spoke making the hairs on Remus’s neck stand from the amount of venom present. “Frankly I have no idea how she is half you. All she wanted to do was get away from all the stress that has come from living here the past couple of months. She has been a shell of herself since you came back really, but when she came through those doors I saw her coming back to herself. That couldn’t happen though, could it? Had to accuse her of having the Dark Mark, which she didn’t, but when she refused to show you because she doesn’t owe you anything you hurt her. You made her bleed. She is your daughter and you made her bleed. Do us all a favor and leave her alone. I opened this home to you and the Order because it was the right thing to do. Ali agreed that she wanted to help, but this can’t keep happening. I can’t put her at risk anymore. So leave her alone and if she sheds another tear because of you then you will leave.” 

Sirius stood stunned. His younger brother hadn’t stood up for himself even when they were children. That was the most he had heard Regulus talk in his life. He felt bad that he had hurt Ali, he never meant to, but he has to protect Harry and the Order. He doesn’t trust the Malfoys and Ali had been there. How was he to know that she didn’t have the Mark? All she had to do was show her arm. Simple really. He glanced around the room as Regulus walked away not waiting for his response. Sirius knew that Regulus meant what he had said. Molly had started cleaning up the kitchen with a sad look in her eyes, while Arthur and Bill had left the room. Remus met his eyes but shook his head at him disappointed. “Come on, Harry. I need a walk.”  

------------------

Ali wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting on the floor of her room. It was quiet downstairs which was concerning, but she didn’t think much of it. Hopefully Regulus hadn’t killed Sirius, but if he did she wouldn’t blame him. She had cried herself numb. She didn’t have any tears left, her throat was scratchy from the sobs. Part of her wanted to go back to Malfoy Manor where she was safe and welcomed, but the other part of her wanted to find her uncle and have him read to her like he did when she was a child. 

A knock at her door pulled her from her musings. “Al? Open the door darling. It’s just me.” Regulus’s voice came from the other side. 

Very slowly Ali stood up leaning onto the table by the door for support. She turned the lock and instantly Regulus opened the door. He kissed her forehead before leading her to her bed. Ali had yet to change out of her dress, but she didn’t really care. Regulus snagged the blanket off the foot of her bed before gently pushing her down into it and covering them both with the blue and silver blanket. Ali positioned herself with her head on Regulus' shoulder. Exhaustion weighing down heavy on her. Even though it was early she could feel her eyes droop as he carded a hand through her hair. “Thank you, dad. For loving me.” 

Regulus’s heart swelled and broke with those words, but he didn’t get a chance to respond before her soft snores filled the room.

[quicksilversquared]

A Christmas Liar

After Ms. Bustier mentioned the annual school charity fundraiser in class, Lila seems determined to raise funds for her own "charity", aka herself. There's no way that Marinette is going to let that fly, but how successful will she be in taking Lila down in time for the holidays?

links in the reblog

It started with a normal morning in Ms. Bustier's homeroom class.

"As you all know, it's fast approaching the holiday season, and our collège always does a fundraiser for a charity before Christmas," Ms. Bustier told the class, smiling widely. The first few cut-out paper snowflakes had appeared in the classroom window that morning, and they all knew that the collection would only grow as December went on. "So remember to remind your parents to check their emails for details soon! Our student representatives have been hard at work brainstorming what to do this year."

Marinette smiled, even as she kept drawing in her sketchbook. Jagged Stone had commissioned an outfit for his Christmas present to Penny from her, and wanted the design ready to be sent to his seamstress as soon as possible so that he could have it ready in plenty of time. He had told her not to rush, of course- "you have so much going on, and I don't want to put you behind in your studies!"- but Marinette wanted to try to get things done early.

After all, akumas could appear and eat up her free time without any notice, and so she was going to take advantage of any extra time when she could.

"Oh, a charity fundraiser?" Lila asked from the back of the room, and Marinette mentally sighed before setting her pencil down. Clearly she wasn't going to get anything done now, if she had to deal with Lila's nonsense, and her nonsense-o-meter was going wild. "That's so wonderful! Do you think that- oh, no, I suppose it would come off a little self-appreciating, never mind..."

"No, go ahead!" Ms. Bustier reassured her quickly. "What is it that you wanted to ask, Lila?"

"Well, I was wondering if maybe I could put forth one of my charities to be considered for the fundraiser's proceeds," Lila told the class, and even without turning around, Marinette could picture the way that Lila would press a hand to her chest delicately, doing her best to look bashful. Adrien's eye roll from in front of her told Marinette that her mental picture probably wasn't very far off. "But I suppose that could come off as, well..."

Ms. Bustier perked up. "Oh, how could I have forgotten that we had someone in our class who had done so much charity work before? I don't think it would come off as self-serving at all! In fact, it could add an extra connection and an element of interest to the whole thing if the school picked one of your charities. Marinette, could-"

"Student council has already settled on a charity for this year's fundraiser," Marinette said at once, not even bothering to look up. She could see exactly where this was heading, and she was going to put a stop to it. Now.

In front of her, she could see Adrien's hastily-hidden grin out of the corner of her eye.

"But this is special, Marinette," Ms. Bustier implored. "Surely they'll understand and want to support a fellow student's charity efforts! This is a pretty unique opportunity!"

"We've had multiple meetings about it, thinned our selections down, did all of the background checks and verification on our final pick, filled out all of the paperwork to submit to Mr. Damocles, and let the charity know so that we could get more information to post around," Marinette informed her, because seriously? Ms. Bustier was going to fall for it, just like that? Also, she was super glad that she had pushed for the council to make the decision early this year, because at this time the previous year, they had been working on finalizing everything still, which would have made a last-minute change like this possible. It wouldn't have been fun, or easy, but it could have been possible. "We can't change it now."

Lila let out a small sigh from the back, and Marinette turned around just in time to see her shoulders slumping. "Oh, that's really a shame, then. For a minute there, I was picturing how much good I- we could do for the children in Africa with a bit of extra funding, but I suppose if they've already picked a charity..."

Ms. Bustier glanced from Marinette to Lila. "Marinette, do you think that we could do two charities instead of one, perhaps? It would just be so nice to be able to support Lila's charity!"

Marinette was honestly going to scream.

"I'm afraid that that would make things too complicated," she said instead, politely as she could and with as little teeth-gritting as possible. "We had a couple fundraiser activities in mind- which we agreed was important, in case an akuma attack keeps people away from an in-person event- plus a couple volunteering opportunities that we wanted to offer. Plus, there would be all of the paperwork and the background checks that would have to be done to add in another charity, and that's not exactly a short process. It's a lot of work."

There was also the fact that Lila didn't have any charities, and any money they earned would- if she managed to sneak her way through their careful screening process- no doubt go straight into her own pockets.

"Oh, I could fill out paperwork so that you guys don't have to!" Lila offered eagerly. "I don't mind, it's for the kids-"

"And the email letting parents know about our fundraiser and our selected charity is already scheduled to go out today," Marinette continued, raising her voice just ever-so-slightly to drown Lila out and making a mental note to talk to Aurore to actually get that email sent over lunch. It had originally been planned for tomorrow, actually, but Marinette wasn't going to give Lila any ins. "So the deadline for any changes has passed." She pasted on her best fake smile, trying not to let any signs of a smirk through as she looked back at Lila. "It's just not possible for this year, I'm afraid. Maybe you can bring it up for consideration earlier next year."

"I suppose that's fair," Ms. Bustier agreed. She smiled over at Lila. "It's my own fault for not bringing it up earlier, it just slipped my mind. Hopefully your charities will still get plenty of support! But right now, we're going to move on to today's lesson. If everyone could please get out your notebooks, we're going to start with a quick video..."

Marinette smiled to herself as she put her sketchbook away and opened up her notebook to a fresh page. This probably wasn't the last that she would hear about Lila's so-called "charities", but at least Ms. Bustier had dropped the subject and she wouldn't be getting pressure from that angle.

Now she just had to be ready for Lila's other attempts to get her hands on charity money.

  "I am so glad that you already had stuff all finalized," Adrien said in Marinette's ear as they headed for their next class. Lila was ahead of them, surrounded by several of their classmates. "I got worried for a minute there when Ms. Bustier hopped on the Lila's charity thing."

"I'm just glad that it's a school-wide thing, not just a class-wide fundraiser," Marinette admitted, glancing around to make sure that no one was going to overhear them. She had managed to get out of being blamed for deliberately denying Lila's "charity" a chance to get more money because she wasn't the only person in charge of the fundraiser, and she didn't want anyone in their class mishearing and blowing things out of proportion. Again. "I mean, it's obvious that Lila jumped on that because I'm class representative and she wanted to put me in a bad spot, but she couldn't when I'm just one of the people involved in that process."

Adrien nodded. "Yeah. I was so sure that she was going to drop it after you mentioned the background check and verification thing, though, and then she didn't. Which is...weird, honestly."

"Not really. If we tried going forward and I was the one doing the check, she would probably just say that I was making stuff up about her charity out of jealousy or spite and that was why it failed or something." Marinette had thought the same, honestly, but it became apparent pretty quickly what Lila was up to. Lila wasn't nearly as sly as she thought she was. "I'm surprised that she didn't jump on that and complain that I was just making the background check thing up because I was doubting her. Ignoring, of course, that we want to have statistics in our flyers and posters and emails about how the money is used, and how much work they get done, and their rating by a charity watchdog. That's standard."

"Which is why she wanted to do her own paperwork," Adrien added. He made a face. "I bet that she's still going to try to piggyback off of the fundraiser somehow, or at least rope people into donating some of their own money. I already heard Rose bringing it up, and Alya mentioned something to Nino about posting something on the Ladyblog."

Marinette winced. That wasn't good. She would have to forward the link to their charity watchdog site to Alya later on, maybe under the guise of providing a resource to get all sorts of charity statistics at once to put in her posting. That didn't guarantee that Alya would look at it, of course, but it was worth a try.

(Also, she could use her throwaway account to point out the charity's questionable status, and then- well, hope that other people would see her post and upvote it.)

"She's really going too far now," Adrien said after a moment, pulling Marinette out of her brainstorming of how she could keep Lila from pocketing a bunch of charity money. "I mean, she has been for a while, especially when she tried to get you expelled, but this is just the cherry on top of a heap of awful. I just don't know... I mean, she's sunk her claws in really deep now, I don't know how to fix it. I guess I should have recognized it earlier, but..."

"Well, there's no point in worrying about what we should have done earlier now," Marinette said as they went through the door for their next class, though she couldn't help but feel a bit validated, since she had wanted to stop Lila's lies ages ago. "We can brainstorm later, if you can get away for lunch. I was going to talk to Aurore then anyway."

Adrien looked puzzled for a moment, then caught on with a grin. "Aha, right, since she's on student council too. Is she the one in charge of submitting paperwork?"

"No, that was me. She's in charge of sending out the emails to families." Marinette grinned up at him. "And I bet that we can do a bit of damage control with that."

-0-0-0-0-

Aurore was all too willing to bring her lunch over to the Dupain-Cheng bakery instead of eating in the school cafeteria. After all, she told them as they headed upstairs, her lunch was leftovers and best served warm, and the cafeteria microwave was gross.

Marinette could believe that. Aurore had already floated the idea of setting up either a roll of paper towels near the microwave so that people could cover their dishes to keep the contents from exploding all over, or going the more environmentally-friendly route of having microwave plate covers instead, which could then be washed daily in the industrial dish washers that the cafeteria kitchen had. Clearly it was a Big Deal for her.

"You said you wanted to talk about the email right?" Aurore asked finally, finishing her grumbling about someone who had apparently microwaved fish and ugh, the smell was awful. "I thought it was meant to be going out tomorrow? I have a draft that's almost complete, I was just going to review it tonight to make sure that it was perfect, but do you need something changed?"

"We had a situation come up in our class this morning," Marinette told her, leading the way into their kitchen. Her mom had left out food for her and Adrien, it just had to be warmed up and assembled. "I don't know how much you've heard about the new girl in our class..."

Aurore frowned. "Lila? The one with the questionable stories?"

Adrien laughed. "Okay, so we aren't the only ones with working brains in the school, that's good to know. Yeah, her."

It didn't take long to get Aurore caught up, and predictably, she was furious at the idea of Lila trying to hijack their fundraiser funds.

"This is going to go one of two ways, I know it," she told them, pulling out her laptop and getting it set up next to her on the table. "Either this girl is going to make up a charity- name, mission, and all- or she's going to find a charity that already exists, and then she'll claim credit for it. The first one is easy enough to disprove, because no one will be able to find anything about the charity. We could just put a reminder in the email about checking charities out before donating to them, and then enter that link we've been using. But the second one...well, she could use their rating and reputation to collect money, and then- if I'm reading her character right- keep it all for herself."

They all thought about that.

"Well, if Alya posts anything on the Ladyblog, in theory any donations would have to be electronically, though a website," Marinette pointed out after a minute. "As for in-person donations, I would say that people should use checks instead of cash, but I don't know how many people use checks anymore, and besides, that's not going to stop her from cashing them if she wants."

Adrien made a choked, horrified noise in the back of his throat. "It- it won't? How do you even know that?"

"But it might deter her, since that's a traceable crime," Aurore pointed out, her eyes gleaming. She snapped her fingers. "And as for the Ladyblog- if she's capable of creating a website that looks decent, she might give Alya a link for that. So that's still a problem-"

"-unless we notice that and bring it to the attention of the police!" Adrien exclaimed, sitting up straight. He winced. "I'd hate to get Alya in trouble, but otherwise people will be thinking that they're doing something good and helping people in need when actually, they're just giving Lila spending money. And if she told them that Lila gave her the link, then she'd get off pretty fast."

Marinette nodded. Alya would probably be a thundercloud that they had gone to the police first instead of her, but she couldn't say that they hadn't warned her. She just never listened when it came to Lila.

"So we can put in a line reminding people to check charities before they donate and to make sure that any links they follow for charities go to the actual website," Aurore finished. Her fingers tapped away at her keyboard. "My older brother is a computer whiz, so I can text him and ask about things people should look for to make sure that a site is the real deal. Then I can get that typed up and sent during study hall, so it'll go out today."

Marinette could only grin. Maybe Aurore could be hotheaded at times, but there was no denying that she could really pull through. "That would be great."

  Unsurprisingly, Lila sold a sob story to Alya about her charity's website being down at the moment, so she couldn't provide a link right away.

"We're working on it, of course, because this is the best time of the year to get donations and we're going to fall so far behind with every day we miss, but the entire system is down and our tech guy is having trouble," Lila told Alya, looking positively wilted. "It's so upsetting! The longer it's down, the fewer people find out about our work, and the less budget we have to work with next year."

"That's terrible!" Alya exclaimed, frowning, and Marinette exchanged an exasperated look with Adrien. "I just wish there was a way to help..."

"Maybe you could post about our school charity instead, for the time being," Marinette suggested dryly. "Since Lila's charity is on the table for next year anyway."

"But we need budget for this year!" Lila repeated, and- yep, she was gritting her teeth. The glare that she flashed Marinette left no question that she had been trying to set up some sort of fake website and the email the night before had thrown her off. Either she was trying to make a more convincing website or- more likely- she was just hoping to wait until the reminder to be careful had faded from people's minds. Or she had had to abandon the online idea entirely in favor of throwing a pity party for herself in hopes of getting cash donations with the help of their classmates, if that hadn't already been the plan all along. "If we wait for a maybe next year, we could go into debt and collapse!"

Alya was looking worried now. "Marinette, are you sure that the student council can't switch charit-"

"It's all set up. We can't change anything, Alya, we established that yesterday." Marinette spared a glance at Lila, who was clearly working to keep a poker face. "Maybe Max can help you with your website issues, he's quite good at stuff like that. We wouldn't want you missing out on donations, after all."

"Oh, I couldn't," Lila simpered, glancing towards Max as well. "We, uh- well, my tech guy is back in Italy, so they wouldn't be able to work together, and he's quite protective of the system. Plus we were in the middle of upgrades when everything crashed, so that makes everything more complicated."

"We'll figure something out, Lila," Alya promised, patting the other girl's arm. Marinette took that as her cue to leave, but she wasn't going to go far. She needed to be able to overhear, after all. "We don't want those kids in Africa to suffer, after all! We can brainstorm before class."

Adrien caught Marinette's eye as she came back to her seat. "It sounds like she's just going to go another way, but isn't about to give up."

"No, she's got the idea of getting money into her head, and she's not about to give it up." Marinette kept her voice low, so that no one would overhear. "Which means that we need to come at the problem at a different angle. Any suggestions?"

Adrien looked unexpectedly delighted at being consulted, but then he paused, clearly not coming up with any ideas. "Uh."

"My first instinct would be to try to warn Alya and Rose and whoever else is going to get sucked in, but we all know how well that would go over," Marinette said, just to fill in the space. "They would clamp down and refuse to listen."

Adrien nodded. "Yeah. But I like what you did yesterday, where you made it sound like you would have gone along if you could and suggested trying next year. Then everyone thought that you weren't fighting against her-"

"-and was actually willing to listen!" Marinette finished, smiling. It was an approach that Tikki had suggested, and she was glad that it had worked. Well, sort of. It had worked in the moment, but just- apparently- pushed the problem off for later. "Yeah, that was nice."

"Maybe we could do something similar now," Adrien suggested. "And offer to be helpful by providing that link still. Like, it doesn't need the website, right? Just the charity name."

Marinette grinned. "Right. And there's no way that she can get around not telling anyone her charity's name. And if she does...well, either it's made up, or she's going to pick a real charity and we can find the real website."

"And congratulate Lila on her site getting back up so quickly," Adrien added with a small laugh. "It's a pain to deal with her, but I'm actually curious about what she's planning on doing going forward. Like, how long can she play this game? She's going to run out of escapes soon enough."

"Yeah, I don't know..." Marinette trailed off as Alya slid into her seat, and she and Adrien exchanged one last look before he turned back to the front, greeting Nino as his best friend entered the classroom.

"Man, I can't believe what bad luck Lila has, to have her charity's website crash at a time like this," Alya said glumly, sliding into her seat. "Lila is stressed about it, of course, but she has so many other obligations for her other charity work that she can't go out and do a collection, not that it would be easy with her throat still recovering from her laryngitis surgery. She can't be out in the cold for more than ten minutes without it causing a ton of pain, which can't be fun at all."

...Naturally.

"I want to help, but if we don't have a working link to put on the Ladyblog, I just don't know..." Alya trailed off. "I mean, we could do a door-to-door, I guess, but that only ever gets fairly minimal donations. And there's so many people who set up near the Eiffel Tower, we wouldn't have a chance. But- oh!" Alya perked up as another thought hit her. "We could put posters up at school, so more people know about it and maybe help us!"

Yeah, how about no.

"That's actually against school rules," Marinette said idly, flipping through her notebook as she waited for Ms. Bustier to call for a start to class. "All posters posted in the building have to be approved by Student Council normally, so that the walls don't get too cluttered, but there's an amendment to that that say that if the school is doing a charity fundraiser, posters promoting other charities can't go up during that time. I think it's to keep the effort from getting too splintered and distracted."

Alya slumped. "Oh."

That was not actually a lie, though clearly Adrien thought it was, if the slight frown on his face was anything to go by. Marinette had picked through the guidelines to make sure that she knew every rule that she could use to turn Lila's attempts aside, and apparently the Student Council had come up with and voted to implement that particular rule at some point in the past.

"Maybe you could do a surprise collection," Marinette suggested. "As a Christmas gift to Lila." She was improvising, admittedly, but this would be a good way to keep Alya and Rose and whoever else was getting sucked in from asking Lila too much and giving her chances to control the narrative. "If you ask her what the name of her charity is, and then you can use the website that we were using on Student Council to look at charities- it has all sorts of stats that you could use, information about charities and their work. That way, you don't need to bother Lila for all that when she's so busy."

"Oh, good idea!" Alya exclaimed. She grabbed Marinette's arm. "You know, none of the rest of us has ever organized any sort of charity fundraiser before- if we put you in charge of that-"

"I'm already busy, Alya," Marinette pointed out. She wasn't about to go make a fool of herself collecting money for a charity that didn't exist, not when she had a million other things to do. "The fundraiser for the school is already going to take up all of my time. I can send you the link that we used, but that's it."

"Oh, but-"

"She already said no, Alya," Adrien cut in, so Marinette didn't have to. "Marinette was telling me about that entire process yesterday, and it sounds like a lot of work and planning to pull something off at the level the school is planning. Asking her to plan another thing on top of that for you, instead of doing it yourself- that's not fair to her."

"I just thought that it might be a good way to repair the bad blood between the two of them!" Alya objected, frowning. "Since Marinette wasn't very welcoming when Lila first arrived."

Marinette narrowly withheld a snort. Gee, I wonder why?

"But if you're busy, I guess you can wait to try to mend that bridge later," Alya added. She sighed. "We probably won't be able to raise as much money, though, since we don't have your experience."

"Mmm," Marinette managed noncommittally, ignoring the clear attempt at a guilt-trip in favor of checking her email on her phone. Alya really had been spending too much time with Lila if she was starting to act just the same. Hopefully she would cut that out after Lila's lies had been exposed and everyone realized what a manipulator she was.

Marinette's phone lit up with a text, and she didn't hesitate to open it at once.

Adrien: Remember, if you commit homicide, you won't be around to gloat when people discover the lies.

Marinette snorted in amusement.

Marinette: I'm going to gloat for a solid MONTH after she gets found out. I wasn't very welcoming? Try SHE was a bully from the start and I wasn't about to tolerate that.

In front of her, Adrien's head gave a tiny nod as he put his phone away, just in time to start class. Marinette locked her phone and put it away, resigning herself to what was probably going to be a week of poorly-concealed efforts to get her into the extra fundraising before Alya either dropped it or realized that something was up with Lila's "charity".

At least now she had Adrien on her side.

  The school fundraiser was going well as they marched steadily closer towards the holidays, their online portal showing just how much money had already been raised by people going through the link that they had both sent out and posted on the school site. There was going to be a bake sale before the break too, with each family asked to donate two dozen cookies for them to sell at their booths near City Hall and (courtesy of Chloe) in the Grand Paris.

Marinette was really happy. People were being generous, and it really was a very deserving charity to receive the funds. On top of that, Adrien had asked for her help in baking his family's two dozen cookies, so they would get to hang out together.

(She was going to ignore the fact that Alya had tried to convince her to make another extra two dozen cookies because Lila "wasn't going to have time" because "all of her charity work"; that attempt had fallen flat when Marinette had just point-blank asked Alya why, exactly, Alya didn't just do that herself. At least with Adrien, he was just a novice baker and was going to be actively participating in the baking, but he just wanted help to be sure that his attempt turned out edible and it was a good excuse to hang out with one of his friends.)

And possibly best of all...well, Aurore's tech-savvy older brother had pulled through for them again.

"I was looking at the email that we had on file for Lila, and something about it just didn't seem right," Aurore told them as they sat together in a private study room in back of the library over lunch. "The domain on it, to be exact, because it was '.net' instead of, oh, I don't know, something actually related to the government. And my brother agreed, so we did a little searching."

Marinette was pretty sure that her jaw was on the ground. Next to her, Adrien wasn't doing much better. "You mean she was keeping her mom from finding out about everything school-related? I wondered how she got away with skipping so much school! And she was probably emailing as her mom, too, to confirm whatever stories she was telling."

Aurore grinned. "Exactly. So we did some digging, and found Mrs. Rossi's actual email. It's almost the same, just with a different domain. So I'm trying to think of what to send that wouldn't sound weird, because obviously we need confirmation that this is the right address so we can get Mr. Damocles to change it for the school system, but I don't want to come off as accusing or anything and have her tip Lila off accidentally."

Marinette exchanged a look with Adrien as she thought about it. "Well, we could just send the fundraiser email again with a comment about how we think that maybe her email was mis-entered before and is this one the correct one that we should be using. That's pretty straightforward and it asks for a response, and she might not even think to say anything about it to Lila."

"Ooh, I like that." Aurore typed that in at once, giving it a quick once-over to make sure that there weren't any errors and that the email had been entered correctly before sending it. "So, what else is going on in Ms. Bustier's homeroom? Anything new with the not-a-charity?"

"Alya's been confused about why our watchdog site doesn't list anything about Lila's 'charity'- she decided to go for the make-one-up route, apparently- and she's still been trying to find stuff on it just on Google, but apparently no connection has been made," Marinette told them, trying not to roll her eyes. "I know she and Rose were talking about trying to just go ahead with a collection of sorts anyway, so I forwarded an email talking about the importance of keeping track of how much money they raised, down to the last cent, in a ledger sort of thing." She couldn't hold back the grin. "Which Rose is really into. So even though they're trying to collect money for Lila still, at the end she won't be able to keep any of it because there'll be record of how much money they collected."

"Which, if we get in contact with Mrs. Rossi, we can make sure that that gets paid back in full!" Adrien exclaimed, scooping Marinette up in a hug for a long few seconds. Marinette prayed that she wouldn't turn red and make things weird. "Genius!"

"As long as Rose doesn't give that to Lila," Aurore pointed out. She raised an eyebrow at Marinette's head-shake. "No? You've already taken care of that?"

"She'll give Lila an electronic copy, but not the hard copy. I suggested that she might want to hold onto that to show what she did for future charity work. Which I still think is a good idea, even if Lila's charity is a sham. It doesn't change the fact that she was doing all of the bookkeeping."

Aurore made a face. "I am so glad that Samuel is doing our bookkeeping for the non-online donations, because that stuff is not fun. It's really fiddly, and if anything gets off..."

Marinette nodded. Things had gotten off fairly early on, and she had head Samuel- another member of Student Council- complaining about having to go through everything to figure out where his mistake was. Since then, he did regular, frequent checks so that he wouldn't have to go through absolutely everything again, just the most frequent donations. Admittedly, Rose was working with much smaller amounts of money- most people wanted more information on what they were donating to than just the name and "helping kids in Africa" if they were going to toss more than an euro or two into the collections basket- but it was still good practice.

Aurore's computer let out a ding, and she pulled up the student council email at once. "We already got a response! Mrs. Rossi says that yes, this one is correct, please keep using it and thank you for catching the error and were there any other recent emails that she might have missed. I'm going to forward this to Mr. Damocles with a message to note the change in email address, just a second- and done."

"Nice job," Marinette told her, leaning across the table to bump fists with Aurore. After a second's thought, she fist-bumped Adrien, too, so that he wouldn't feel left out. "That's one more thing off of our plates."

  Their fundraiser finished right before holiday break with a silent auction, with all of the items up for purchase having been donated by parents, teachers, extended family members, community business owners, and- in the case of an array of signed CD cases and posters- Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and several of their musician buddies, after Marinette had approached Jagged Stone with the request.

And of course, everyone was invited. Posters had been put up outside of the school and emails had been sent out, reminding everyone about the time and date and their charity, plus attaching a list of the items up for auction to get people's interest.

"My mom so wanted to make it, but work came up," Lila told several of their classmates when she arrived at the auction, looking sad. "And there were several things that she was really interested in, like the-"

"Ooh, barf, I can see what you mean," Aurore said, materializing at Marinette's side and wrinkling her nose at Lila. "That's a pretty obvious ploy to get people to buy things for her, isn't it? Or at least to pitch in some of their own money to help her, so that she won't have to pay them back."

Marinette nodded. It really was disgusting, but at least now Lila was moving off with the group towards one of the items so that they didn't have to hear her. She was steering clear of the signed Jagged Stone things, oddly enough, but maybe that would be a dead giveaway that she didn't actually know him. After all, Jagged Stone would sign anything put in front of him, so her going out of her way to buy a signed item when she was supposedly on great terms with him would be pretty strange.

"Do you think her mom actually can't make it, or Lila just assumed that she wouldn't know about the auction and didn't tell her?" Adrien asked. His arm was tucked through Marinette's, though she was pretty sure that it was just so that he wouldn't lose her in the crowd. "Is the fake email still on the list?"

Aurore nodded. "Yeah, up until this morning. I cleared it off so that there wouldn't be any confusion going forward."

"And I would place bets on Lila assuming that her mom doesn't know anything," Marinette added. "She wouldn't want to risk anyone asking her mom about her charity." She grinned and pointed as she noticed someone new stepping into the school. "And look, over there."

The other two looked. There, standing in the entryway and looking around, was Mrs. Rossi. She really didn't look much like Lila, but it was easy enough to recognize her from her official embassy photo.

(Her official embassy photo, where she wasn't listed as the actual ambassador, but just one of the embassy staff, but that- well, that was an interesting little tidbit that Marinette was going to sit on for a little bit longer.)

"Oh, she's spotted Lila," Aurore said gleefully, craning her neck to follow Mrs. Rossi as she wove through the crowds. "And- whoops, Lila sees her!"

Marinette hastily smothered a laugh. If Lila's expression was anything to go by, she definitely hadn't realized that her mom was getting emails from the school and was going to be coming. She had never seen the other girl look so pale before.

"I'd ask if I should go get some of that amazing-smelling popcorn that they're selling so that we can watch, but honestly, I kind of just want to let things take their course and find out later," Adrien said, glancing down at Marinette. "There's some pretty cool items up for auction that I want to check out."

Marinette considered that. On one hand, she wanted to watch Lila's downfall. On the other... well, she had been keeping an eye on the whole Lila fiasco for a while now, and she was kind of tired of it. It would probably be a bit awkward to watch, too, and there was no guarantee that it would happen right away, and they were too far away to hear anything besides.

...yeah, her decision was pretty well made.

"That sounds like fun," Marinette told him, before glancing over at Aurore. "What about you?"

"I might go point Mr. Damocles in her direction," Aurore commented, glancing around the crowd. "Or maybe that can wait until later, since I don't want to throw everything at Mrs. Rossi at once and disrupt the auction with an akumatization." She sent them a slightly sheepish grin. "But you know I like my gossip, so..."

Marinette had to laugh. That was so very Aurore. "All right. We'll bump into you later, then."

Aurore grinned in return, and then was off. Marinette watched her go for a moment, then let Adrien lead the way off into the crowds surrounding the tables. It was amazing to be able to sit back and relax after the past weeks of planning and making sure that everything, from the online link to the cookie sale to this, was going to go off without a hitch. They were well on track raise more money this year than they had any other year, and that was amazing.

And to think that she had had a hand in setting all of this up...well, Marinette just couldn't be prouder.

It was fun investigating all of the donations with Adrien, even though- as part of Student Council and also part of the team that had photographed and logged all of the donated items- she had seen them all before. Marinette couldn't help but peek at the bids despite herself, grinning when she saw some of the higher ones.

"This is amazing," Adrien commented once they had made the rounds and had gone to browse through the assorted refreshments available for purchase. "There were a lot of nice things donated. And people are definitely bidding plenty of money."

"Yeah, some people will spend more to win the prize than it's worth," Marinette told him. "Like with the voucher for stuff from our bakery- the top bid right now is for more than the value of the voucher. It's interesting, but I think that people see it as buying the item, and then making a donation on top. Or something, I don't know."

"That's really cool," Adrien commented, then pointed. "Oh, look, Nathalie and the Gorilla are here! They said that they might show up and do some shopping. I honestly thought that Nathalie was just saying that to be nice, because she's been sick and hasn't wanted to go out, but I guess she's been feeling better lately."

"Oh, that's good," Marinette said, before a memory made her frown. "Wait, I thought you commented on her being sick, like, three months ago. Is she still having problems?"

Adrien shrugged, but he was frowning, too. "I don't know. She had been having these weak, dizzy spells like Mom used to before she disappeared for a bit before I commented on it at school, I think. Maybe whatever treatment she was getting finally kicked in, I don't know."

Marinette frowned even deeper. Nathalie had been showing the same symptoms as Adrien's mom before she vanished? That was a really weird coincidence. And for both of them- presumably both, at least- to have those same symptoms for an extended period of time?

If Mrs. Agreste and Nathalie had been related, Marinette might have guessed that it was a genetic thing. But since they weren't- again, that was an assumption- then the chances of them both separately having the same condition...

"I cannot believe that I fell for such a manipulative, thieving, disgusting liar!"

Alya materialized at Marinette's side, clearly steaming. Rose, Mylène, and Juleka weren't far behind her. Rose looked like she was close to tears, and the other two just looked lost.

"Pardon?" Adrien asked politely, but Marinette could see the amusement glimmering in his eyes.

"Lila's been leading us all around by the nose, making up stories about her life and about her nonexistent charity- and I've missed a dozen akuma attacks because I was wandering around in the cold, trying to raise money for her! I offered to make a posting on the Ladyblog so that I could put up a link to her site to raise more money! She was probably just planning on pocketing it all!" Alya scowled deeper. "I can't believe we fell for it! And aren't you even surprised?" she demanded when neither Adrien nor Marinette reacted. "At all?"

"Are we meant to be?" Adrien asked dryly. "After Marinette's spent so long calling Lila a liar?"

Alya faltered for a moment, then scowled deeper. "You- you knew, but you didn't warn us?"

"Yes, because pointing out the obvious lies worked so well the first several dozen times I did it," Marinette said, adopting the same dry tone that Adrien had used. "And I gave you the watchdog charity link to use. I rather thought that its complete lack of anything about Lila's charity might tip you off."

Alya faltered. "Oh."

"But we still gave Lila money that was meant for charity," Rose said tearfully. Juleka pulled her to her side, trying to comfort her. "And it was a decent amount, too."

"You have your log, right?" Marinette reminded her. "If you tell Lila's mom how much Lila got for her 'charity', then I bet that she can get that money back to you and you can donate it to another charity."

Rose perked up at once, tears drying up magically. "Oh, that's right! We can still put that money to good use! I'm glad you suggested that we keep track of everything, Marinette."

"Yeah," Juleka agreed. "Lila sucks, but at least we can get the money back."

"We should go talk to Lila's mom before she leaves," Rose decided. She dug in her bag, pulling out the ledger notebook that she had been using for their charity collections. "Aha! Yes, I have the amount we gave Lila yesterday written here. C'mon, let's go make sure that Mrs. Rossi knows!"

"Well, all's well that ends well," Adrien said cheerfully as the other girls headed off. "I bet this isn't how Mrs. Rossi saw her evening going, and Lila definitely wasn't expecting any of this, but at least now the adults can figure everything out and Lila can actually see some consequences. And hopefully next semester, there'll be less drama now that she'll be restrained- or gone, if Mrs. Rossi or Mr. Damocles decides that Lila staying here wouldn't be a good idea."

"Hopefully," Marinette agreed. She grinned over at Adrien. "But that's enough worrying about Lila and her nonsense for tonight. I think we should just sit back and enjoy the evening, don't you?"

Adrien beamed back. "I couldn't agree more."

[hayjeon]

Practical Tips on getting your fics out there!

I’ve gotten an influx of these types of questions here recently, and the more i thought about what i was gonna add, it became really long :(  

disclaimer: a lot of the things i bring up are just from personal experience as a writer on this site, what my followers have told me they appreciate, and what i tend to look for when im looking for fics to read! If you don’t like these tips then pls move on :) 

although i’ll mention them, i’m also not going to be focusing on cliche tips like “write for yourself” or “grammar issues” cause those are pretty obvious!

1. accessibility of your blog 

when you’re trying to get your name out there, make sure that you’re creating an inviting experience for any potential followers! this includes:

a memorable url! be creative!

have some fun designing your blog’s aesthetic! (i love cute blogs because it reflects a bit of the writer’s personality), and (i prefer blogs with white backgrounds because it’s easier to look through/read, say, in contrast to a pitch black one where the words need to be white!) 

put your masterlist link in your bio (even better if you can link most recent fic! found this most helpful when i revisit authors that i like and can easily see if they’ve updated or not)

an organized and easy-to-navigate masterlist (personally, i prefer masterlists organized by band, instead of types of fics ie. i hate when i have to choose between drabbles, oneshots, and series masterlists; i really prefer to see them altogether!) --> see section 3 

organized tags (if you’re going to be posting a lot of non-fic-related content like pictures or videos, tag them properly so followers can sort through and find your fics easily!), or (if you’re going to be writing in different mediums like drabbles, or answering asks, make sure to use a unified #mine or #writing or #fics to centralize your content) 

2. get your name out there!

write write write! once you have some fics that show your talent, don’t be shy! 

join writing groups: when i first started out, I joined a bunch of groups that would reblog my fics in the midst of the content of much bigger writers; these blogs developed a following, and as a result of my content mixing in with bigger blogs’ content, so did my own tumblr! there’s been a stigma recently with these groups, but im sure you can find one thats supportive and not clique-y! 

send your fics to rec pages: what’s the harm? the only bad thing that can happen is that they ignore you! who cares! get out there! 

if you can do the above, i really encourage you to ask your fave writers for advice/to read your fic: again, the worst that can happen is that they say no or don’t respond or don’t have enough time, but it’ll be a good opportunity to get some feedback! i for one read (or try to read) every single rec that falls into my inbox. if i like it, i’ll #rec it, and if i don’t, unless the writer asks me for feedback, i move on!! 

utilize your tags!!: i’m not entirely sure if this is still the same or not, but from my memory, it’s the first 3-5 tags that matter the most? so utilize them well; push back the tags that aren’t really relevant (ie. #writing, #fics) and push more the main subject line of what you wrote (ie. jungkook fluff, bts smut, namjoon angst). these will populate your fics into the tags better!

headers!: when i’m scrolling through an infinite page of fics, the headers catch my eye the most; try being creative! you can find a lot of info out there on how to make ur headers super aesthetic, but i can share my tips too! --> see section 3

3. your masterlist 

here are some practical tips! 

organize by band, not type of fic/member/centralize your masterlist: i went onto a blog recently and clicked their bio mlist link to find a page full of 20~ish “JUNGKOOK MASTERLIST”/ “JAEHYUN MASTERLIST” and when i clicked on each one, they only had like 2 or 3 fics per member. i think it would’ve been better if she’d centralized all her fics! that keeps whoever is looking interested and more likely to click on another fic while browsing

add info about the fics!: when scrolling through a masterlist, it’s easy to get lost; try to add some snippets of info (ie. a short sentence you liked from the fic, a quick summary, a description of the au/scenario, or even a header!) this all gives some info about the fics you have tagged! 

headers: this isn’t a requirement, but i personally love a good header on fics i read and i love making them myself as i finish up a fic and get ready to upload it; here are free sources: unsplash for HQ stock pics, crop/edit/filter in VSCO, and then add aesthetic script with fontcandy) 

try to fill it up!: after i visit a blog after reading one good fic, i usually browse through their mlist to see if there are any more that i’d be interested in. if there’s a lot to look forward to, i’ll almost always follow; try to write as much as you can in the first few months to try and fill up your mlist and give blog viewers a reason to visit your blog again, follow, or even reblog your content!) 

4. try not to reproduce cliche fics: 

honestly tumblr’s writing community (and armys) has grown insanely these past few years and, unfortunately, even from my perspective, in the past 3-4 years, all the writers have sort of become blended together in my brain. but, i can say that the ones who consistently stand out are the ones who produce consistent content and think outside of the box! 

i tend to gravitate towards fics that have really interesting plotlines (ex. btssavedmylifeblr’s VOID is always a surprise to read because it’s sO unique! i usually don’t read ot7 fics but this one is legit my fave) 

I know it’s tempting to try and just write typical smut fics to try and gain some traction, but tumblr is already too overloaded by that kind of content; try to write something that’s special and unique! this will set u apart from the thousands of other writers here --> see next section

5. create unique fics: 

this is also personal to my writing style, but i get so bored writing just casual fics about the members, and it affects the fics i choose to read too; i prefer unique fics which you can achieve through: 

circumstance/au: create a fun au!; don’t just create an arranged marriage, create an arranged marriage in joseon dynasty, or between a werewolf and a hunter! (shameless self plug); don’t just give me friends to lovers, but give me spiderman!jungkook friends to lovers! (ie. cupofteaguk’s exchanges)

jobs: give them out-of-the-ordinary jobs; don’t just give me enemies to lovers, but give me rival!anchors who end up loving eachother! (ie. jimlingss The Newscasters)

fun dialogue: create good back-and-forth, (something i’m still working on!)! this will help your characters develop personality, and that way, readers will start to develop that themselves as well (ie. dad!yoongi from insemination wars by prolixitae is such a specific character that i love so much!, or obiwrites’ garden characters were so memorable!)

create memorable personalities: don’t give me a flat character, try to develop 4d personalities in all of your characters! (im still working on this too!) this way you can really make an impression on your followers! a great way to practice/recognize this is: “Ask my Character.” Can your followers ask a specific character a specific question, and would you be able to deliver an answer that is very specific to that character’s tone/voice/personality? If yes, then ur doing well! If not, try to think of ways that you can make tht specific character from a specific story, really unique and separate from your other characters.

6. some practical writing tips

be yourself, write for your own pleasure, blah blah blah; yeah you know already haha but here are a few more practical tips! 

grammar check: if you can, try and hone your grammar! makes for an easier read 

write like you: i personally LOVE this by obiwrites, but even the way she writes exudes her personality and is so specific; try not to be caught up in adding hundreds of synonyms and exquisite language; in fact, simpling it down and being more concise and honest with your writing is better than a superfluous sentence; this will also give ur characters so much more dimension and funk

use those commas/sentence variation: try to use more commas; this will feel like you’re the narrator to your own story; it also makes it more fluid to read in my opinion, over those short. clipped. sentences. (ie. “he came over, sitting down on the corner of your bed with an expression you’d never seen before” over “he walked over. he sat down, looking sad.”) 

half-half dialogue/narration: a fic with too much dialogue can get confusing, and a fic with too much narration can get dry; try to balance them out, and weave in and out of each! 

quality over quantity: don’t feel burdened to write a 30k word fic. in fact, i think some of the shorter fics (ie. any of versigny’s stuff) made a bigger impression on me over the longer fics because they were short, left me wanting more, and were just so high-quality in such small quantities. try out your hand at drabbles and one-shots, and don’t feel too burdened to try and develop a series right off the bat! 

abandon pigeon-holes: i’m guilty of this; i start series and then end up with no vision for the stories and they end up giving me writers block. its okay. just stop or discontinue them or leave them on a hiatus; it’s okay. your priority is yourself, and if abandoning certain works are part of that, then go ahead. it’ll help you progress more. 

and finally.......

i’ll add more as they come up! but if you liked this, then pls lmk! i’d love to give more tips and tricks; i think i started this blog 3-4 years ago when there weren’t as many writers here, but im glad you’re thinking of starting out/wanting to grow more! don’t feel intimidated! it’s not all about the notes/followers but creating a blog you’re proud of. 

so write what you’re proud of, or interested in, and keep going. i truly thoroughly had so much fun writing this post. if there are any writers who read through this and have some more advice, pls msg me! 

all the best to you! 

[wildflowerquill]

“God’s righteous man pretending you could live without a war.” A different take on Steve’s vision in Age of Ultron.

I was re-watching Avengers: Age of Ultron, because why not, and I was thinking about Steve’s vision. A lot of people, even myself have pointed out that it obviously reflects his PTSD – seeing the flashes of photography as you hear bullets and bombs in the background, wine spilt on a soldier like he’s been shot, couples dancing deliriously as if their lives depended on it, a mix of a bitter and strange victory amidst all of the bloodshed.

After Steve stops walking through the chaos, he takes a second to survey everyone around him. For a second, he looks helpless because a soldier, like him, facing everything he did would certainly feel helpless. But I wonder if everyone around him are the reflection of people he wanted to help but couldn’t. Almost like what Steve Trevor says to Diana in Wonder Woman, “We can’t save everyone in this war,” or what Steve says in The Avengers, “When I went under, the world was at war. I wake up, they say we won. They didn't say what we lost.” His vision is almost like putting faces to the things that were lost and wanting to do something for them, but obviously isn’t able to.

But then, Peggy comes along, and she provides an ultimatum of sorts. Because I listened to Hayley’s voice a little too much, it’s interesting how every line changes with the tone she uses.“Are you ready for our dance?” is a bit nightmarish and her appearance mixes in well with Thor’s part of the vision. “The war’s over Steve.” is a sterner declaration. “We could go home. Imagine it.” is much more softer, like she’s beckoning him to choose their dance. 

Steve’s surprised to see her but even more conflicted. He’s gonna have to give up everything around her to dance. He’s not wearing his Captain America uniform - it’s just regular military garb. He sees himself as a regular soldier. (We also have to remember Steve drops his CA helmet when Wanda entrances him too.) So she’s not asking Captain America. She’s asking Steve. As soon as the choice between going home and dancing or fighting and staying a soldier intersects, both options disappear in a second. He turns away from Peggy for a split second to an empty hall - all of the horrors of war and the people that couldn’t be saved as well as Peggy are gone in an instant. He stands by himself. 

But then his mind goes back to dancing with Peggy. A fleeting second when he could’ve taken her into his arms. He still wants to go home, but he can’t. He’s stuck where he is. He’s stuck in this new world of “I thought I could throw myself back in, follow orders, serve. It’s just not the same” as well as Sam saying “You could do anything you want to. What makes you happy? / Home is home you know.” A soldier's return to normalcy is not typically possible because they're haunted by their greatest nightmares of never going home to their loved ones and building the life for themselves they should've had before war beckoned them to leave. 

When Steve tries to wrangle his new team of agents and Nat in The Winter Soldier, he says to Fury “Soldiers trust each other. That's what makes it an army. Not a bunch of guys running around shooting guns” as well as “I can't lead a mission when the people I'm leading have missions of their own.” This is counteractive to Steve fighting with the Avengers, where they follow each others’ lead. The team wouldn’t work without one of them and helps them to be in sync. But when he’s outside of the Avengers, led to do Fury’s bidding, he’s not a soldier like he was with the Howling Commandos where they followed his command but it was a team effort, and everyone was on the same page. There was no compartmentalization or Steve having to lie to himself about who he is or who he is taking orders from in order to serve. Fighting for him now isn’t the same as it was then. As soon as the Avengers disassemble, so does the lasting remnants of Steve’s self-image as a soldier and as Captain America. Fighting, no matter who it’s with, is not going to be the same after that.

Captain America: Civil War reinforces this even more when Steve tells Tony he wishes he couldn’t help others, but then admits he doesn’t – because as Ultron said, who would Captain America be without a war? When Steve crashes the Red Skull’s plane into the ice, he’s drawing the line between sacrificing himself/being selfless, and choosing his own personal happiness. In fact, it’s the hope of going home and dancing with Peggy that gives him something to look forward to as he accepts plunging towards his death, or what they assume will be his death. Similarly, in the rest of the movies, Steve’s life comes down to personal happiness or being a soldier, but so much of what would give him a life outside of Avenging is non-existent – a family, home, stability. So he keeps making the sacrifice play and helping others.

I think, like a lot of fans have pointed out, Endgame was about Steve realizing he can finally put his personal happiness above fighting and serving. Steve is ultimately an allegory for all the men and women who served believing selflessness and sacrifice would save others and make the world a better place….only to wake up from the dream about a hopeful and stable future to realize that corruption and horrors of humankind still exists. His faith ultimately becomes, not about serving or defying the government, but about individuals who will step up to the plate with him. At the end of Age of Ultron, he says he’s home as you hear military chants in the background but the compound isn’t a military camp, it’s not Camp Lehigh. He’s thinking of it as Camp Lehigh and still thinks of himself as a soldier first. At the end of Civil War, he and the disavowed Avengers fight in the shadows. He’s still a soldier. A big part of Steve’s letter to Tony says “We all need family. The Avengers are yours, maybe more so than mine. I've been on my own since I was 18. I never really fit in anywhere, even in the army. My faith's in people, I guess. Individuals. And I'm happy to say that, for the most part, they haven't let me down. So I can’t let them down either.” When you think of the people who gave Steve faith you have to think of the old and new worlds combined - Dr. Erskine, Peggy, Bucky, the Howling Commandos as well as Sam, T’Challa, Bucky, Nat, etc. His service to the world and everyone he would give his life for is what pushes him to stand alone against Thanos. But he must’ve also realized when the Portals opened, his faith in people still pays off. There were more than enough Avengers to protect Earth if he decided to leave it. He’s still a soldier, but he’s not the only one. If he can go home, why shouldn’t he - especially with the blessing that Sam, Bucky, Nat, Tony, etc. would want him to take advantage of.

It’s the second chance that ultimately matters in Endgame, that Steve couldn’t have possibly had before. He started to give himself permission to draw a line between fighting and living – probably the first time after he wanted to finish what Nat started with the Infinity Stones, and the second after Tony died to give everyone a second chance.  Steve, a soldier who survived two wars against robots and three world wars, finally goes home and feels safe in the arms of the woman who loved him before he became ‘the greatest soldier in history.’ He doesn’t have to pretend to live without a war. He can just live and face any upcoming wars as they come instead of depending on them for self-worth.

(I know people will be pissed about that last section because that opens up a can of worms about alternative timelines, what happens to Peggy’s career, etc. but please don’t reply or reblog/comment with that type of stuff – it’s been talked to death and nobody will ever agree on everything.)

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Of a Feather

Of a Feather Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Huwumi Summary: Hibari likes a lot of things about her family. She likes her brothers most of the time. She likes that her Mommy is always nice, even when Hibari does something naughty like drawing on the walls. She likes that her Daddy holds her whenever she wants him to. She likes that her Grampa looks all grouchy but still plays with her. But she doesn’t like what Grampa said about her wings.

Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

“Are you sure you can handle this, Dad?” She scuffled her little feet beside her Mommy, looking between her and Grampa Jiji curiously. There was a quiet clattering behind them, down at the other end of the hallway, followed by a loud crash. Mommy winced as she peered over her shoulder, then looked forward again. “The twins have been extra energetic today. Especially when it comes to their Quirks.”

“I can handle a few unruly children, Fuyumi. I dealt with all three of your brothers, as well as your husband,” Grampa Jiji snorted and rolled his eyes, a brief flicker of flame appearing along his moustache. She giggled when she saw it. He glanced at her briefly, his eyes seeming a bit softer, before another crash could be heard and he scowled in the direction. “Would you like me to go round them up before you go?”

“No, they’ll come if I call,” Mommy said with a small sigh and shake of her head. She turned fully and settled her hands on her hips. That was her Mommy is Serious pose. “Boys, come down here please!”

“We didn’t break nothin!” One voice, which she knew was Kaito-Nii, called back down.

“Well, nothin important, anyway,” Reo-Nii added. A second later two heads peered around the corner, one a mop of unruly gold and the other of red, two sets of bright golden eyes taking in the view below. Reo-Nii flashed a huge grin of delight. “Grampa Jiji’s here!”

Mommy giggled and nodded as they came darting down the hallway to give proper greetings. “Yes, Grampa Jiji is going to be watching you two and Hibari while Isamu and I are out,” she said.

Kaito-Nii perked up at that and frowned, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“Out to run a few errands,”

“Why does Isamu get to go?” Reo-Nii protested.

“Yeah, that’s not fair!” Kaito-Nii agreed.

“Isamu’s responsible for classroom snacks on Monday when he goes to school and decided he wants to make something from scratch. He needs to be there to help me pick it all out when I get to the store,” Mommy said, reaching down to ruffle the mop of white burrowed against her leg. There was a shift and Isamu-Nii poked to peer at their older brothers worriedly. He ducked back against Mommy after a second, though, since the older boys were glaring.

Hibari understood why they were upset because she’d been upset, too. She’d had a bit of a fit when she was told she wouldn’t be going. But that didn’t mean they should be mean to Isamu-Nii. “Isamu-Nii gets to go to the store, but we get to play with Grampa Jiji instead!” she chirped up.

The two looked at each other before looking back over at their grandfather. “I guess,” Kaito mumbled sullenly.

“That could be fun. Maybe,” Reo agreed quietly.

Mommy smiled at her before turning back to the boys. “Plus, if you all can behave while we’re gone, I’ll bring you each a little treat home,” she offered. Both of them brightened immediately at that promise. She giggled and reached out to ruffle both their hair, before turning to press a quick peck to her daughter’s forehead. “Now you three behave for your grandfather and play nice with each other.”

“Yes, Mommy,” they all chimed together.

She smiled again before looking up at Grampa. “Keigo’s only working a half day today, so he’ll probably be back before we will. I think he said he’d be home around noon. Isamu and I can grab lunch while we’re out, but I’ll let him know to pick up something for you all on his way home,” she explained. Hibari’s eye lit up at the mention of her Daddy, glancing over at the clock excitedly. She was still learning her numbers, but Mommy said she was very smart and learning fast! She tilted her head at the clock on the wall, watching the really skinny line move around the two bigger ones, before tugging at the sleeve of her Mommy’s shirt.

“Mommy, what time is it now?” she asked, pointing at the clock.

“It’s a quarter until ten,” she said, gently taking her daughter’s hand and guiding it. “You see the lines on the clock? Those are called hands.”

“Clocks have hands, too?”

Mommy giggled again and nodded before moving Hibari’s arm as she explained, “See the really long but wide hand? That’s called the hour hand. And the shorter one is called the minute hand. The really teeny one is the second hand. Daddy will be home around the time the two bigger hands are both pointed at the tippy top of the clock.”

“That’s a twelve!” she squeaked excitedly, looking between where her finger was pointed to Mommy.

“That’s right, sweetie! You’re getting so good at recognizing numbers!” she praised, leaning forward to pepper a few kisses to her cheek. Hibari giggled and squirmed happily, vaguely aware of her wings fluttering behind her.

Grampa Jiji hummed quietly. “They’ve already had breakfast, right? Or should I be anticipating feeding them between now and when Hawks returns?” he prompted.

“Oh, yes,” Mommy agreed as she pulled away and stood upright again. She cast another grin at the three of them before reaching down to take Isamu’s hand. “They’ve all been up since around eight, so they ate then. If they get a little peckish, though, there’s some fruits and things in the fridge. And, obviously, help yourself to anything you’d like, Dad.”

With one final wave, Mommy and Isamu-Nii were on their way out.

Hibari was fast to scamper to her room and get her little beauty salon goods to play with. The minute she presented it, Kaito and Reo were racing back upstairs, which she thought was mean. She didn’t always like playing the games they wanted to play, but she still did. Grampa Jiji led her out to the living room, though, and sat mostly still while she combed his hair into little ponytails. He let out little grumbles sometimes like he wasn’t having fun. Daddy never did that when they played beauty salon together.

Once she’d done a good job of making him look pretty, Grampa got out her crayons and coloring pages for her. She settled in at the table with them while he put on some boring grown up show. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it didn’t seem very fun. Less fun than using her glitter crayons, anyway. She liked them the best. They were shiny and Uncle Natsuo had bought them just for her so that made them super special! Mommy said to always take good care of presents.

A flicker of red on the screen tore her away from scribbling in the hair of her mermaid and she started grinning. “Oh! It’s Daddy!” she said excitedly, leaning on the table to see the screen better. She giggled and swayed with his movements, watching as he dodged and ducked and flew around the bad guy he was facing. She tried to make her own wings imitate some of what he did, but it was hard. She had to think really, really hard about it and sometimes it made her head hurt!

“Still so small,” Grandpa Jiji said suddenly, causing her to look over at him. He had one elbow on the arm of the couch and his head rested in his hand. He was staring right at her wings as they shifted about.

“Huh? What’cha mean?” she asked, peering over her shoulder to look at them. 

“Your brother’s were at least twice that size when he was your age,” he said, pushing himself off the couch to settle in front of her. He reached out and lightly poked at her left wing. It wasn't very painful but her wing still shrunk back and she let out a little yelp, just the slightest twinge of discomfort present. Like when Kaito or Reo tickled her too hard. “Isamu’s wings were much less sensitive, too. How much control do you have over them? Can you get any kind of distance off the ground?”

She frowned and squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to get them to flap big and hard like she’d seen Daddy do before. She felt a little bit of wind from the action but they just fluttered a little harder than usual. She puffed her cheeks out as she stared back at them. She had been trying really hard that time too! "I didn't," she pouted.

"Hmm. That's rather disappointing. It seems it took most of your concentration to even flap them," Jiji commented.

She nodded meekly. "Daddy says it's cause my wings were all bunched up for so long," she mumbled. It wasn't very often they talked about Quirks in the house, since it seemed to make Mommy kinda sad and Uncle Natsuo and Uncle Shoto would get kinda angry. She didn't remember herself, but Daddy had told her that when she was just a baby, her wings didn't come out right and doctors had to a peration to get them out.

"Perhaps your wings are just more for show than actual flight like your father and brother," he commented, cupping his chin as he titled his head to try and get a better look at them.

She opened her mouth to yell at him that her wings could fly, too, before a loud crash was heard from down the hall. There was a brief flash of red as Reo tore into the kitchen. "Crap! Crap! Cra-ha-ha-ha-hap!" he wailed over the sound of the kitchen tap switching on.

"What have you two done now?" Grampa asked gruffly as he pushed himself up.

"Don't worry, Gramps, it's just a small fire! Mom and Dad won't even know it happened!"

"You did what?"

"Reo, hurry up! It's getting bigger!"

"What did the two of you do?"

"Dude, you told Gramps? What the heck?"

"I didn't say nothin'! He saw me getting the water, dumbie!"

She didn't wait around to see what her brothers had set on fire. They did stuff like that all the time. Instead she headed out into the backyard by herself, kicking at the dirt. She could so fly! She just couldn't do it yet! That didn't mean she wouldn't ever be able to do it!

… Right?

She whimpered and squatted down, drawing in the dirt with her finger. Mommy and Daddy never really talked about her wings, but they didn't talk about Isamu-Nii's either. So, that meant that nothing was wrong with her and her wings, right? Or did it mean they didn't talk about it because they didn't want her to know she couldn't fly? She stood up and shook her head frantically, whipping around to glare at the patio. "No! I can too fly!" she shouted, stomping her foot and clenching her fists. She just needed to find out a way to make herself fly!

And then she glanced over at the roof. Maybe if she got up there, she could jump off and fly from there! She grinned widely as she darted back inside. She rushed past the chaos happening in the bathroom and made a beeline for the second floor. She headed to the spare room in the far back, opened the window, and carefully climbed out. The storm drain was next to that window which made climbing easier for her. It was a little scary but once she was up on the roof and stood up, she couldn't help but smile wide. She walked over to the edge of the roof and peered over.

From up there, she could see so much! Her wings twitched and shifted as a hard gust of air rushed past her, ruffling the feathers and causing her to grin wider. Something about that felt so good! Like when Mommy bundled her up in a towel after a bath! It was a really windy day, too, so even if she couldn't fly by flapping, she could maybe sorta fly using the wind in her feathers! She scrambled towards the edge of the roof carefully, not wanting to slip off the slanted surface before she was ready. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, tried to spread her wings out as far as she could, then leapt.

And nothing happened.

"You know," a voice said, causing her eyes to snap open to meet with familiar gold ones, "I'm a little curious what you're trying to do here, sparrow."

"Daddy!" she chirped, wiggling slightly and looking around. He was hovering just beneath her while a few of her red feathers were curled around her belly to keep her propped up in the air. She let her whole body sag, sadness rushing through her. She had really thought that would work! "Daddy, I was gonna fly!"

"Fly?" he repeated, holding out his arms to her. She reached out immediately to take his hand. His feather slipped away and she slumped into his chest, his arms moving to curl around her tight, and she burrowed into him.

Her head snapped back up when she heard his heartbeat. "Your heart's beating really, really fast!"

He chuckled while gently adjusting his hold on her and tucking her head under his chin. "I wonder why that is," he mumbled under his breath. She let out a small huff and snuggled back into him, her hands curling into little fists around his t-shirt. "So, how did you wind up on the roof? And why?"

"Grampa Jiji said I can't fly!" she whined as Daddy carefully maneuvered them to the ground. "He said my wings are too tiny! But I can! I know I can!" she insisted, lower lip trembling. She pushed her face into her Daddy again. She didn't want to cry but she just felt so sad!

"Oh, my little sparrow," he cooed softly. He held her as she cried for a bit, gently rocking her and kissing her head. After a little while, he shifted and forced her to lift her head, wiping her tears away with his thumb. "Hibari, sweetheart, you can't fly yet, but you will."

She hiccupped a little. "B-But Grampa said that Isamu-Nii's were bigger when he was my age! That he could fly with them!"

"Well, that's your brother and you're you," he said, walking towards the back door. He opened the door and set her at her usual spot, kneeling so that they could see each other still and taking her hands in his. "Your wings will grow with time. Your wings are different from Isamu's and they're even different from mine. It's okay that your wings are still growing."

"But Grampa said-!" she started but he gently bopped his forehead against hers.

"Does Grampa have wings?"

"No,"

"Does Daddy have wings?"

"Yeah,"

"And has Daddy ever lied to you before?"

"Never!" she gasped.

"So if Daddy says that you'll be able to fly, you'll be able to fly," he said, giving her hands a little squeeze. "Okay?" She hummed her agreement and he moved to stand up again, pressing another quick peck to her forehead. "That's my girl. Now where is my most favoritest retired Pro at? I have some words for him while we eat."

"Kaito-Nii and Reo-Nii set the potty on the fire," she said, pointing at the hallway where a muffled ruckus could still be heard. Daddy looked down the hall before laughing.

"Is that the first incident today?"

"Yeah huh!"

He let out a long whistle at that. "Now that's impressive! They must have really wanted something,"

"Mommy said she'd bring us goodies if we behaved," she said before scrambling over to his side and taking his hand. "I dunno what they were doing cause I was giving Grampa a makeover!"

He smiled at her. "Well, I'd love to see what you did. Maybe you managed to save Jiji's pouty old face," he whispered with a wink, which made her giggle. She liked when her Daddy said silly things like that. Like later that afternoon, after Mommy got home and Hibari was munching on some cookies, when he asked Jiji, "So why were you trapped in the bathroom with the twins while our four year old was on the roof?"

The faces Mommy and Grampa Jiji made were really silly!

[lightasthesun]

about the content creaters not reblogging other's content..as an one, if you dont have many followers, your content will get lost easily, if you keep your blog flooded with your own art, people will more easily find it,no? Honestly im not sure, but if people reblog many other post, their own has less chance to get seen. Even now many good just gets lost in the void. I also get that, more you post, more followers you will get, which is totally fair, and i would totally support other creators with reblogs, and I sometimes do it on my main blog, but still. I dont even like to self reblog my own stuff, its just feel weird, but because of the time-zones its just hard to find a good time to post. I was even thinking about setting up a new blog, where I would reblog all kinds of content, or just hide certain tagged posts, so it wouldnt show up on my page, but still showing on my followers' dashboards. Which both wouldnt be fair, since gaining new followers are hard, and hiding certain posts, because it would keep my blog and theme clear is selfish. So honestly I have no idea what should I do. Sometimes I still go "damnn, i must reblog that" and do it anyway, but yeah. Sorry for this, i have no idea who did you meant by that post, im just here for some advice, and opinions. Sorry for this long ask! I hope you have a good day!

I wasn't referring to anyone specific in my post!

But it is something that's been bothering me on and off for a couple of months now and that I've rambled about before in the tags of posts with similar matters.

I honestly don't think people that don't follow you will find your art easier if you almost solely post your own art. Reblogging others content and possibly 'clogging' your dash and pushing your own content to the bottom of your blog doesn't have anything to do with the exposure it might get in general.

That's all about the tags. If you don't tag your art no one except your followers will see it and even that isn't always the case because this is tumblr we're talking about haha. So even if you reblog a bunch of content your art will always be in the tags— though of course you're not the only one to post so other people's art might push yours further down— even if it doesn't show up at the top of your blog. You could consider always pinning your newest art piece to your blog so it's the first thing people see when they open your blog but that's only a short term solution.

Last but not least: don't be afraid of reblogging your own content.

I hope you have a great day too!

[ray-ray-writings]

Wishing On a Star-Hannah Montana x Fem!Sister!Reader

Miley makes a wish on a star but when it affects her sister, will it become more than she bargained for?

Check out my Masterlist here!

If you want to Request, find out what/who I write for here!

Requested by Ab1nsur

Hello! Thank you for your request! I apologize that it took me a while to get to it but here it is! This also doesn’t follow the episode completely but I think it’s still cohesive! I hope you enjoy it!

Riley’s POV

I glanced up from my book at my fraternal twin as she glared at the worm she held in her hand. “You know glaring at that worm won’t change the fact that you had to give up your date with Jesse” I piped up, turning the page of my book. Miley turned her glare from the worm to me. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you’re helpful” She pouted before setting the worm back into the habitat. Miley stood up and walked to the balcony causing me to mark my place and follow her. She looked up at the sky and sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder. “You know, sometimes I wish I didn’t have to live this double life. That I could be Hannah Montana all the time.” I sighed at her words, “I know Miles, but wouldn’t that be hard? You’d have no secrecy and no privacy.” I retaliated. “It’d be better than having to miss out on stuff for one identity because the other promised to do something else.” 

At this point Lily had joined us on the balcony. “Look guys! A shooting star!” She said, pointing up to the sky. “I wish for an A on the project. What do you wish for?” Miley stared at the star as she wished, “I wish I could be Hannah Montana all the time. No double life.” I rolled my eyes at her wish. I didn’t wish for anything out loud, but in my head I wished. ‘I wish that Miley would see how stupid her wish is.’ I mean I love my sister but I don’t realize what she’s asking for. “Let’s get back to the project.” 

*Time Skip and a POV Change*

Hannah Montana’s (Miley’s) POV

THIS IS THE GREATEST WISH EVER! Wishing to be Hannah Montana all the time was probably the smartest thing I could have ever asked for. I mean, cake for breakfast, no school, and Jesse McCartmey is my boyfriend! Other than my dad’s new wife, who I’m not a fan of, I am living the life. Wait, Dad’s here, where are my siblings? “Roxy, where are Jackson and Riley?” Roxy let out a chuckle and snapped her fingers. 

Next thing I knew we were on the beach. “You’re brother became a hermit that lives on the beach. Riley worked for you a bit and once she saved up a bunch of money, she moved out and lives in a small house on the beach. She and Jackson are really close, They bonded over the shared experience of people using them to get closer to you.” Roxy explained, looking over at Jackson where he was using a metal detector and Riley who was sitting on a stool at the counter of the Surf Shack. 

Before I could say anything else, Amber, Ashley, and another girl dressed in pink  approached Riley. Wait, that other girl… It’s Lily. “Wait. I never went to public school. I never met Lily. She fell in with Amber and Ashley?” I questioned incredulously. Roxy just nodded. “You know you’d be a lot prettier if you wore some makeup.” Ashley stated snottily to Riley. Riley turned around in her seat and raised an eyebrow at the three girls. “What are you even talking about. Lily elbowed Ashley before taking the lead, “What Ashely meant to say is that we would love to give you a makeover.” Riley let out a huge laugh, “Yeah right! I’d love to see you try.” 

A smile crept onto my face as Riley began her refusal. Riley had always been a tomboy in her personality and her style. She would never willingly get a makeover, especially by Amber and Ashley. Amber pulled out her makeup bag and then pulled out some makeup and walked a little bit closer to Riley. “Come on it will be fun!” Amber explained, extending her arm out to Riley. Riley leaned back away from the girls. “I’m not kidding, stay away from me or else. You’ll regret it! Don’t you dare!” The girls didn’t back away, instead Amber passed the brushes off to Lily and Amber and Ashley reached down and pinned Riley’s arms to her side. 

Lily rushed forward and began beating her face with makeup. “Get off of me!” Riley exclaimed from her spot in the chair. “Stop it! I’m going to kill you guys!” I was just about to step forward and pull the girls off, but Lily pulled back. I have to admit, Riley looked great. But it so wasn’t her. Lily held out a mirror and let Riley look at what Lily had done already. I grinned in anticipation. Riley was going to scream. She’d hate it and demand they take it off. At least one thing would stay the same. “Oh. My. Gosh.” Riley stated. Here we go. “I love it!” There it--WHAT? The smile fell off of my face. Riley was supposed to hate this. “Please! Don’t stop! Do more! Make me pretty, please!” Riley begged the girls. The three of them grinned at Riley’s words and Lily went back in and began to do even more makeup. 

I let out an aggravated scream before marching over to the girls and pulled Lily off Riley myself. “No! No no no! This is all wrong! Riley you’d never like this! This isn’t you!” Riley had a shocked look on her face, but it quickly dissolved into annoyance. “You have no idea what is me anymore Hannah. You lost that right a while ago. Now leave me alone!” Riley exclaimed, turning back to Lily, but Lily’s attention shifted to me. “Oh my gosh! You’re Hannah Montana!” It seemed that everybody on the beach’s attention shifted to me and everyone ran toward me. “Roxy!” I exclaimed before I was suddenly transported back to my house. 

“Thanks for that.” I thanked glumly. “I changed my mind. This isn’t awesome anymore. I wish for things to go back to normal” I exclaimed to Roxy. Roxy shrugged her shoulders, “Sorry hun, one wish per customer. Which means you’re stuck like this, unless you can find a loophole.” Without another word, Roxy disappeared from in front of me. I let out a little cry before rushing off to my room. 

I threw myself down on the bed and sighed. I don’t want to be in this world anymore. I want to go back to being Miley and Hannah. I want my identity back. I laid there for a few hours before I rolled over and off of my bed before walking out onto my balcony. “Why did I ever make that stupid wish? I hate my life.” I berated myself. “Well that makes two of us!” I jumped at the sound of Jackson’s voice. I turned around and found him sitting on my roof watching TV, “Three” I jumped again at the sound of Riley’s voice. She was sitting in one of my chairs, her face bare of the makeup that the girls put on her. “Jackson! Riley! You guys came back.” I exclaimed. Jackson hopped off the roof and Riley stood up, “Well yeah, I still need my reality TV!” He exclaimed. “And I come to keep him company,” Riley supplied. “Your face! It’s back to normal!” I exclaimed. Riley half shrugged and looked out to the sky, “Yeah, well it wasn’t really me. So I took it off.” 

A huge smile came over my face, “I’m just so happy you guys came back! Welcome home!” I exclaimed wrapping my arms around the two of them, but in unison they pushed me off. “We are not coming home!” Riley told me. “But I want some of my old life back. We weren’t perfect but it was ours and I had great friends and no evil stepmom. And no one knew that I was Hannah Montana.” Jackson let out a scoff, “A world where no one knew that you were Hannah Montana. I would wish for that anyday.” I let out a sigh and looked up at the sky and was shocked by the sight of a shooting star. “Angel! Roxy! Jackson did it. He wished for my old world. That has to count for something!” I exclaimed looking around. A bright light surrounded Jackson and he transformed into my angel. “You found the loophole, congratulations! You have yourself a wonderful life, Miley.” Roxy then snapped. 

Light surrounded me and I was back on the balcony with my head on Riley’s shoulder standing next to Lily and looking up at the night sky, watching the shooting star pass by. “Look guys! A shooting star!” She said, pointing up to the sky. “I wish for an A on the project. What do you wish for?” I took a breath before saying, “I don’t wish for anything. I love my life exactly the way it is.” Riley raised and eyebrow and looked down at me, “You were just complaining about your life, now you want nothing to change.” I shrugged and looked up at her face, bare of makeup, “I had a change of a heart” Riley let out a laugh but smiled. “Well okay then. I wish for a million dollars.” Riley’s wish caused us all to laugh out loud. “Come on guys. Let’s get back to our project.” 

Any there you have it! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed, or give me some constructive criticism! I’d appreciate it! Thank you!

[spn-safeandsound]

13. Found Each Other

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x19; Provenance

Word Count: 9,972

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, sexual themes

Author’s Note: I’m excited for y’all to read this! Make sure you tell me what you think! Reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

Julia tapped her manicured nails against the surface of the table to the beat of the song playing through the bar that she and the Winchester brothers were hanging out in. She hardly paid attention to John's journal in front of her, even though she was supposed to be looking up something for Sam. Her eyes were at the bar, where Dean stood flirting with a pretty brunette woman.

She wasn't bothered by it, not really. Yes, she liked Dean but she also thought that he considered her as his little sister. Really, the only reason she was irritated was because he had been sent to the bar to get them drinks and had yet to come back with them even though she saw the bartender give him the drinks more than five minutes ago.

If she had to watch Dean flirt with a bunch of women, she didn't want to be completely sober.

"Did you find the names?" Sam's question brought her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah," she answered quickly, pushing the journal back over to him. "There you go."

Sam studied the names—and each paragraph John wrote about the people and their death—and then nodded, tapping the page. He looked up in Dean's direction and waved for his attention. Despite the fact that Dean saw him, he continued flirting with the girl, smirking attractively.

Sam impatiently waved at him again; the smile on Dean's face dropped as he said something to the woman, grabbed their drinks from in front of him, and walked back over to the table they stole an hour ago.

Dean slid Julia's fuzzy navel over to her before setting down Sam's beer.

"Oh, look, the ice melted," Julia commented sarcastically, playfully raising her eyebrows at him while taking the straw between her fingers to stir the drink. "Just the way I like it. Thanks, Dean."

Dean winked at her. "You're welcome, Junior."

Julia popped the straw in her mouth and started drinking, enjoying the orange juice and peach flavored alcohol.

"All right, I think we got something," Sam told Dean.

"Oh, yeah, me too," Dean glanced back at the brunette he left at the bar. "I think we need to take a short leave for just a little bit. What do you think? I'm so in the door with this one."

"So, what are we today, Dean?" Sam set down the newspaper he had been studying for the past half-hour. "I mean, are we rock stars or army rangers?"

Dean grinned widely. "Reality TV scouts looking for people with special skills," he told Sam eagerly. Julia snickered and Sam and Dean joined in her laughter. "I mean, hey, it's not that far off, right?"

Sam shrugged.

"I don't understand," Julia piped in, taking another pull of her drink. "I mean, why do you have to lie?"

Dean gave her look that told her he thought that she was crazy. "You're kidding right?"

"No, I meant it in a way that you shouldn't have to lie about who you are," Julia elaborated. "You're hot and you have a somewhat nice personality. You shouldn't have to make up a story."

Dean grinned at her and rested his elbows on the table, leaning closer to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear anything after you called me hot."

Julia fought back her eyeroll—even when he was flirting he was such a little shit—and curled her lips seductively as she coyly played with her straw. Dean's eyes dropped down to her lips to the cleavage her white v-neck showed off, and then down to her hands, following her fingers' movements. Julia's self-esteem shot up a little bit when he bit his lip and his green eyes darkened as she pulled the straw to her lips.

The whole situation was getting intense and she could feel Dean's energy shifting into something lustful and primal. The sexual tension between them could be cut with a knife and she saw Sam look away with a small smile.

She took another drink of her beverage and then smiled at Dean, trying to diffuse the situation. "Then you might have to get hearing aids, old man."

Julia wished that they were alone so she didn't have to break up the little flirting between them. She wanted to see just how attracted Dean was to her and whether he would actually make a move or not.

Dean's light smirk fell slightly and he blinked, standing up to his full height. He took a drink of his beer, looked back at the girl at the bar, and then back at Sam.

"By the way, she's got a friend over there," he told his brother. "I can probably hook you up. What do you think?"

Sam looked taken aback by Dean's offer. "Dean...I...no thanks," he shook his head, almost shyly. "I can get my own dates."

"Yeah, you can but you don't," Dean pointed out.

Sam stiffened slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Dean shook his head and then nodded at the newspaper. "What you got?"

"Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home a few days ago," Sam told him, recalling what he read from the article. "Their throats were slit and there were no prints, no murder weapons, all—"

Julia suppressed her smile when Sam snapped at his brother, who was looking back at the girls waiting for him at the bar. Dean looked back at Sam, paying attention again as he drank more beer.

"No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside," Sam finished.

Dean took another gulp of beer. "Could just be a garden variety murder, you know? Not our department."

"Well, your dad thought otherwise," Julia spoke up.

Dean quirked an eyebrow at her. "What do you mean?"

Julia dragged John's journal back in front of her and then spun it around so Dean could read the information the right way up. "John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York," she pointed to the first victim's paragraph. "The first one was in 1912, the second one was in 1945, and the third one was in 1970."

"The same M.O. as the Telescas; their throats were slit, the doors were locked from the inside," Sam added. "Now, so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except for Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one."

"And now we got one," Dean stated.

Sam nodded. "Exactly."

"All right, I'm with you. It's worth checking out," Dean agreed and then hesitated, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "We can't pick this up until first thing, though, right?"

Sam gave him a confused look. "Yeah?"

"Good," Dean grabbed his beer and walked away from the table, heading back to the women at the bar. He started chatting with them right away while they leaned in him with flirtatious smiles.

Julia sighed and looked over at Sam. "We can't take him anywhere."

"No, we can't," Sam rolled his eyes. "Wanna head out?"

"Sure."

Julia quickly finished the rest of her drink as Sam picked up their stuff. She made him promise that they could stop by a pizza place—her favorite food to eat while buzzed—on the way back to their motel. Pizza, beer, and whatever movie was on cable sounded like a much better night than watching Dean go home with two women.

-

"So, last night..."

"Sam, come on," Julia sighed as they continued walking through the Telesca's old house. She had the EMF device in her hand as they walked down the upstairs hallway, checking the empty rooms for any evidence of what happened to the happy couple.

"What, I'm just saying," Sam shrugged as he took the lead into the master bedroom. There was a large bloodstain on the white carpet but there was nothing else in the room. Everything the Telesca's owned was now being sold at an estate sale because they had no other family. "You and Dean were getting somewhere and then you shut it down."

"I shut it down because I don't want a casual fling with your brother," Julia told him. "and I know that Dean isn't really the relationship kind of guy so I'm just gonna save myself the trouble."

"Fine," they left the master bedroom and started back downstairs.

Julia could tell that Sam wasn't finished with the topic of her and Dean but she didn't want to get into it again. She wasn't going to go there with Dean; she couldn't just have sex with him. She was someone who wore her heart on her sleeve and if she did have sex with Dean, she was positive that her feelings would grow. That's just how she was.

They left the house, locking up after themselves so it seemed like no one was there, and walked down the block to where Sam parked the Impala. Dean was still sleeping in the passenger seat when they arrived, his head leaning against the window with sunglasses blocking his sensitive eyes.

Julia playfully nudged Sam and bounded forward, leaning through the drivers' side window to reach the steering wheel. Sam grinned and chuckled as she slapped the horn, making Dean shout in surprise, jump in his seat, and take a defensive stance.

Julia broke out into giggles, laughing harder when Dean whipped off his sunglasses and glared at her. She slid back from the window and stepped to the side, opening her door to slide into the backseat.

Sam was still laughing when he sat in the drivers' seat.

"That was so not cool," Dean grumbled, resting his tired head back on the window. Julia snickered, not feeling sorry for him. He had done worse things to her while she was trying to sleep in the backseat—the worst was when he blared his music and started weaving in and out of the two lanes on an empty highway, making her fall into the space between the seats.

"We just swept the Telesca house with EMF. It's clean," Sam informed him, his laughter finally calming down. "And, last night, while you were...well...out—"

Dean smirked happily. "Good times."

Julia rolled her eyes while Sam continued as if he didn't say anything. "J and I checked the history of the house; no hauntings, no violent crimes."

"And there wasn't anything strange about the Telescas, either," Julia added.

"All right, so, if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents," Dean said thoughtfully. "Like a cursed object or something."

"The house is clean," Sam stated.

"Yeah, I know," Dean gave him an annoyed look. "you said that."

"No, I mean it's empty," Sam elaborated. "No furniture, nothing."

"Where's all their stuff, then?"

"An estate sale," Julia informed him, recalling the information she looked up before they even stepped foot in the house. "It's taking place this afternoon at Daniel Blake's Auctions and Estates."

"Perfect," Dean sat up in his seat, yawning. "What are we waiting for, then?"

Sam started the car and pulled away from the curb, driving out of the expensive neighborhood that the Telescas lived in. As he turned onto the main road through town, Julia leaned forward in her seat to speak to the brothers.

"We should probably change first," she suggested.

Dean looked at her like he was crazy. "Why would we do that?"

"Daniel Blake's auction house is the best of the best," Julia told him. "We're gonna stick out like a sore thumb if we go in there in jeans and flannel. And, without an invitation, we'll get kicked out."

Dean wasn't convinced that they needed to change but Sam agreed with Julia. Once they stopped at a gas station to change into their nicest clothes, they made their way to Daniel Blake's auction house.

The lot was full of luxurious sports cars and the building was huge, with beautiful and expensive pieces of artwork, statues, and furniture. There were plenty of people mulling about and checking out the items, all dressed in very nice clothing.

"Silent auctions, estate sales," Dean muttered under his breath as they walked through the aisles of items. He stole some type of finger food from the buffet and stuffed it in his mouth. "Looks like a garage sale for Wasps, if you ask me."

Julia went to throw him a be-quiet look but a man's elegant yet distasteful voice came from behind them.

"Can I help you three?"

Julia, Dean, and Sam turned around and came face-to-face with an older gentleman, several inches shorter than both of the Winchester brothers. He wore a three-piece suit, his hair was slicked back impeccably, and there was a nasty look on his face.

"I'd like some champagne, please," Dean told him with his mouth full.

Julia nudged him with her elbow. "He's not a waiter," she turned back to the man, her sweet smile that gave her whatever she wanted on display. "Nice to meet you, I'm Julia Petersen—"

"Of the chain of sports shops?" the man asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir," Julia nodded confidently, holding out her hand for him to shake. The man took it, shaking it firmly yet politely. "These are my art dealers, Sam and Dean Connors."

The man gave the brothers a doubtful look. "You are art dealers?"

Sam nodded with a polite smile. "That's right."

"I'm Daniel Blake. This is my auction house," the man introduced himself. "Miss Petersen, no matter how nice it is to meet you, I'm afraid that this is a private showing. I don't remember seeing your name on the guest list."

Before Julia could say a word, Dean scoffed. "We're there, chuckles. You just need to take another look."

Julia had never been embarrassed of Dean and she wasn't now, either. She was annoyed, though. All she had to do was buy their way onto the guest list so they weren't intruding but he had to open his mouth. Mr. Blake would undoubtedly kick them out because of Dean's manners.

A waiter with a tray full of champagne passed by and Dean took a glass. "Oh, finally," he sniffed the glass pretentiously, as if it was a glass of wine. "Cheers."

Sam and Dean walked away from the man, leaving Julia on her lonesome. "Sorry about him," she tried saving grace. "We just arrived in town today and I heard about your showing. There wasn't enough time to buy tickets. Are there any left?"

Mr. Blake didn't seem as put-off by Julia as he was Sam and Dean. She owed it all to her last name and her training when it came to big events like this where her family had to mingle with the other rich people of America. When she was younger, Naomi and Maggie used to go to parties all the time but when Naomi died, Maggie started taking Julia along until she left for Stanford.

"Certainly, Miss Petersen," Mr. Blake nodded. "I'll come find you with the tickets. Please, continue to take a look around."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Blake," Julia gave him a sweet smile and then turned, heading off in the direction Sam and Dean went.

She found them in the area where the Telesca estate was being shown. The Telescas had mostly good taste, a little bit too stuffy for her, but the large painting of a family of five was horrific. She couldn't imagine why anyone would put that in their house, especially if they weren't related to the people in the portrait.

Sam and Dean joined her at the painting, each of them looking at it with furrowed brows.

"A fine example of American Primitive, wouldn't you say?" a woman spoke up as she walked toward them.

She was a couple of years older than Julia and far taller than her but she was beautiful. Her dark brown hair was pulled up elegantly and her black dress was classy enough for the showing but cute enough that she wasn't boring to look at.

Sam looked at the painting in confusion and then back to the woman. "Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses," he stated. "But you knew that. You just wanted to see if I did."

The woman smiled. "Guilty," she admitted as a waiter came by with a tray of mini quiche that Dean eagerly took from. "and clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake."

"I'm Sam," Sam introduced himself. "This is my friend, Julia, and my brother, Dean."

Sarah smiled at Julia, her eyes sweeping to Dean, who was shoving a mini quiche into his mouth. "Dean," she greeted him. "Can we get you some more mini quiche?"

Dean hummed with his mouth full. "I'm good, thanks."

Julia watched as Sarah's eyes immediately went back to Sam, her expression brightening. "So, can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, actually," Sam nodded. "What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"

"The whole thing's pretty grisly, if you ask me, selling their things this soon," Sarah eyed the Telesca items and people around them. "But Dad's right about one thing. Sensationalism brings out the crowds—even the rich ones."

Sam grinned at her and hesitated for a second before asking, "Is it possible to see the provenances?"

"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that," Mr. Blake walked over to them.

Sam gave him a confused look. "Why not?"

"I'm afraid I underestimated our ticket sales, Miss Petersen," Mr. Blake turned to Julia, dismissing Sam's question. "Therefore, you and your companions are unable to continue viewing the items. I think it's time for you to leave."

Julia raised her eyebrows at Mr. Blake; his tone was polite but his expression was anything but. He didn't want her business, it seemed, as long as she had Sam and Dean by her side. Well, that was his loss.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Blake," Julia made sure she hid her anger with the man behind politeness. "Next time I come to town, I'll book in advance."

"That would be lovely," Mr. Blake nodded. "Good afternoon."

Julia gave him a tight smile and grabbed Dean's arm, pulling him with her as she walked away. He looked like he wanted to punch the smug expression right off Mr. Blake's face but she couldn't allow that to happen. No matter how rude the guy was, the Petersen name couldn't be tarnished by unimportant auction house.

"That guy needs a fucking attitude adjustment," Dean grunted angrily as they left the building. "What a fucking asshole."

"He's not worth it," Julia tried to placate him.

Dean's temper wasn't sated just yet, though. "He's an asshole who acts like he's better than us just because he has money," he muttered as he and Julia went to their side of the car. "What a dick."

"Hey," Julia grabbed his hand before he could rip open the drivers' door and squeezed it, hoping it would help calm him down. "Don't worry about it, Dean."

Dean sighed, Julia's hold on him actually allowing him to calm down. He squeezed her back and then let go of her hand to open his door. He gave her a small, grateful smile as he slid into his seat. He pointedly ignored the way Sam smiled at him and started up the car as Julia got into her seat.

-

Julia pulled her duffle bags from the back of the Impala and followed Sam and Dean over to the rooms she got for them. Rooms eleven and twelve were connected—like Dean wanted them to be every time it was her turn to rent the rooms—and were the last two rooms of the front side of the motel.

"How'd you know about that stuff back at the auction house?" Dean asked Sam as he pulled out the key to room twelve. "Grant Wood and Grandma Moses?"

"I took an art history course," Sam told him. "It was good for meeting girls."

"Plenty of time to make a connection when the professor drones on and on about boring crap," Julia teased Sam with a grin, walking next door to unlock her room. "I dropped out the first week."

Dean shook his head at them. "It's like I don't even know you two."

Julia laughed and unlocked her door, stepping into the room. It was decorated in a black and white with a disco theme. There were silvery metal accessories everywhere and the walls looked like a dance floor that was made in the seventies. There were two queen beds a couple feet apart from each other, a table, and a mini bar.

She hoped that Sam and Dean had a room decorated similarly so she wouldn't have to suffer alone.

Julia set her bags down on one of the beds and walked over to the doors that separated her room from Sam and Dean's room. She unlocked hers and opened it before knocking on the one that locked on the boys' side.

Dean opened the door within seconds, peeking into her room. "Looks like Saturday Night Fever threw up all over your room, too."

"Yeah," Julia laughed as he let her into his room. "It must be a real draw to their customers."

"Mmhm," Dean hummed in agreement before turning to Sam, who was setting his stuff on his bed. "What was that providence thing you were talking about?"

"Provenance," Sam corrected him. "It's a certificate of origin, like a biography, you know? We can use them to check the history of the pieces and see if any of them have a freaky past."

"Huh," Dean nodded, impressed. "Well, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but Sarah..."

"Yeah," Sam smirked at him. "Maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin."

"Oh, it's not Dean that Sarah's interested in," Julia drawled as she sat down at their table. Dean pointed at her in agreement, his face lighting up into an amused grin.

"No, no, no," Sam shook his head. "Pick-ups are your thing, Dean."

"It wasn't my ass she was checking out," Dean told him. "Right, Jules?"

"Sarah's into you, hotshot," Julia grinned at her best friend. "Call her up, take her on a date..."

"In other words, you want me to use her to get information."

"Don't think of it that way, Sam," Julia sighed.

"Besides," Dean added, pulling out his cellphone to hand it to Sam. "Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her."

Sam sighed heavily and took the phone, walking into Julia's room so he could have some privacy to talk to Sarah alone.

-

Dean couldn't help but stare at her. The way her wavy hair brushed against her upper back. The way her hazel eyes lit up when someone was talking to her, giving them all of her attention. The way she wrinkled her nose when she took a drink of Dean's beer. The way her little black dress fit her just right, showing off all her assets. The way she giggled when he told her some lame joke that no one else would laugh at.

Julia Petersen was a masterpiece and he never wanted to look away.

Dean had always found Julia attractive and, of course, after that dream he had, everything had gotten more intense, more heated. But in that bar, where they decided to spend time together while Sam went on a date with Sarah, it was like everything had been turned up to an eleven. This was different than the regular old attraction that he had with Cassie or yoga-teacher Lisa. This attraction to Julia was magnetic; he didn't just want to fuck her, he wanted everything with her.

And that freaked him the fuck out because, other than Cassie—and look how that turned out—Dean didn't do relationships. And Julia wasn't just some random chick that he could hang out with for a few weeks and then ditch. This was Julia Ruth Petersen; he had known her since she was born. He had watched her grow from a cute kid to an awkward pre-teen to the beautiful, intelligent, and strong woman she was today. She was important to him and he couldn't screw her up. He couldn't bring her down.

But it was tough when Julia clearly felt something back for him. He wasn't a stranger to women and he knew when he was wanted. That gleam in Julia's hazel eyes wasn't love that you have for your brother. The way she licked her lips when talking to him about the case they were on wasn't just to make sure the sensitive skin didn't dry out. The blush on her face wasn't from embarrassment.

Despite the fact that the attraction between them was obviously reciprocated, he couldn't do it. He couldn't take that step with her and he had to tell her the truth.

"Listen, Jules," he was trying to be delicate because he didn't want to hurt her feelings—and there was also the fact that he didn't want to do this. He wanted to give in. "I-I can't do this."

Julia's face fell. "What?"

"We have something going on, right? I mean, I know you feel it, too," Dean explain. "but I can't take that step with you. I can't ruin what we have."

"What we have?"

"I don't do relationships," he told her; it made his stomach twist when her pretty lips turned into a frown. "I'm sorry."

Julia eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. "It's fine, Dean. I-I wasn't expecting anything...I was—we were just hanging out. Like friends."

"Right," Dean nodded, his heart sinking. "Like friends."

"I'm going to get a drink," Julia forced a smile as she stood up from the table they had occupied an hour earlier. "Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm good. I still have..." Dean trailed off when Julia practically ran away from the table; from him. "Okay."

He watched as she walked up to the bar, stepping onto the ledge so she could see the bartender properly. She pulled her fake ID out of her purse and flashed him a big smile before saying something that Dean couldn't hear. The bartender winked at her and then went to start making her drink.

And then a guy walked up to her side and plopped down on the stool next to where she was standing. He was a couple of inches shorter than Dean but still half a foot taller than Julia, with dark brown hair and a medium build. He said something to Julia and she smiled charmingly back at him.

Dean's stomach twisted again and this time it wasn't because he had to reject Julia. Dean was never really a jealous guy—he didn't have a reason to be—but something in him just hated the thought of another guy smiling at Julia and making her laugh. His heart raced and his jaw clenched; when the guy placed a hand at the small of her back, he jumped from his chair.

Mine, the primal part of his brain roared as he stomped over to the bar where Julia was talking with the asshole.

He swiftly wrapped his fingers around Julia's wrist, making sure his grip was light enough where she wasn't hurt. He pulled her off the ledge and tucked her into his side, pulling her away from the guy without a second thought.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" she asked him loudly as he escorted her out of the bar and through the parking lot that connected to their motel. "You can't just drag me around like some kind of ragdoll."

"Well, you can't just go around flirting with any man who smiles at you!" he retorted like he had any right.

Julia stopped in her tracks, only a couple of feet away from their rooms. "Are you joking?" she demanded, ripping her arm away from him as he turned to face her. "Dean, you were the one who said you didn't do relationships!"

"I don't!" he raised his voice. "but that doesn't mean you can just go off and fuck the next guy you see!"

"I'm sorry, I missed the part where you were in charge of me."

"You wish I was in charge of you, shortcake," Dean snapped back. "Then you wouldn't have to fuck random guys at bars."

"Oh, like you don't have your fun?" Julia raised her eyebrows. "How was the threesome last night, Dean?"

"We weren't talking about me."

"No, I think we were," Julia countered. "I think we were talking about the fact that you think that I'm going to sit around pining for you while you get your jollies off with everyone you meet. Guess what, Dean? That's not going to happen. You said you don't want to take that step with me, fine! But don't act like I have no right to do what or who I want."

Dean clenched his jaw so tightly he was surprised his teeth weren't breaking. This wasn't a good combination; he was drunk, he was horny, and Julia was in front of him and she was everything. He was being reckless but fuck it...he could deal with the aftermath in the morning.

He firmly gripped her upper arms and pulled her to him, smashing his lips against hers. Julia didn't even try to protest, quickly returning his affection. Dean didn't believe in divine intervention or fate or anything like that, but it felt like he was made to kiss Julia. Like everything that had happened in their lives had come down to this moment and even though it wasn't perfect, it was them.

Their hands were everywhere; stroking bare arms, gliding over supple curves, gripping firm muscles. Dean didn't even know how they got into Julia's room but it didn't matter; he was gripped her thighs and she was wrapping her legs around him.

And, when they fall onto her bed, there was no hesitation or anxiety. It was trust, pleasure, and, most importantly, love.

-

Julia wasn't in a field this time but she still knew what was happening. Usually her dreams with her angel were never in the same place, so it was kind of relaxing to know that things were getting back to normal. She was seated in the last pew at her church back home; the church was empty and most of the lights were out but there was still a ray of sunshine beaming through one of the stain glass windows depicting the angel of Thursdays, Castiel.

"Julia Ruth," her angel greeted her.

"What's wrong?" she asked immediately. "Usually when you pull me into these dreams I need guidance."

"It is needed, indeed."

"So, what's going to happen this time?" she raised an eyebrow at the window. "I mean, my brother just died and there wasn't a peep out of you. Didn't I need your guidance then?"

"I'm sorry about Levi," the angel told her, a hint of sadness in his voice. "but it might help you to know that he rests in Heaven where he belongs."

Despite the fact that her angel wasn't there in her time of need, the assurance that Levi was in Heaven—like she thought he would be—did help her. The knowledge gave her some peace that she had been missing ever since she learned that Levi died at the hands of Meg and the Daeva.

"So, what are you doing here, then?" Julia wondered. "What's going to happen that I need guidance for?"

"It's not what is going to happen but what is already done, Julia Ruth," her angel answered her. "You and Dean Winchester have found each other."

She struggled to figure out what he meant by that until she remembered what exactly exhausted her enough to fall asleep. She and Dean had sex and it was great—wait, did that mean...?

"You saw that?"

"Yes."

"You couldn't give us some privacy?"

"I am your guardian, Julia Ruth," her angel spoke as if watching her and Dean have sex was no big deal.

"Well, in the future, could you not watch?" Julia's cheeks flushed. "I'm not a voyeur."

"I do not understand."

"Never mind," she sighed. "Just, please, give me some privacy when things like that happen."

"I will try," her angel promised her.

Julia pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes; her angel sure was stubborn. "Okay, so back to why we're here..."

"Do not let Dean Winchester go, Julia Ruth," her angel commanded. "Just as you are chosen, he is chosen as well."

"Chosen for what?" he had said that she was chosen before but she still couldn't figure out what he meant by that. And, what, now Dean was chosen, too? "What does that mean?"

"Do not let him go," her angel repeated, ignoring her questions. "I will see you soon, Julia Ruth."

Julia wanted to protest but there was some banging noise coming from outside the doors that separated the chapel to the rest of the church. The light from the angel window went out as she stood up to see what the noise could be. When she opened the doors, she woke up.

It was morning. She knew that because she had forgotten to close the curtains to the front window the night before and now the sun was streaming into the room. Her eyes stung as she blinked rapidly, trying to remember the details of her rapidly fading dream.

And then there was another knock and she was easily distracted. "Julia, wake up!" she heard Sam call. "I got breakfast!"

Dean wasn't by her side anymore, though she was pretty sure he fell asleep before she did. Her disappointment went away when she sat up and saw a note sitting on the nightstand.

Jules,

Sam got the provenances from Sarah. It's that ugly painting of the family that's been going from victim to victim. We went to go burn the damn thing.

Love,

Dean

Julia got a little too excited when she read 'love'. She quickly stamped it down, reminding herself that Dean didn't do relationships.

Do not let Dean Winchester go.

She heard the whisper like someone had spoken out loud. She looked around, hoping that Sam had somehow gotten through her locked door but she was still alone. Great, now she was going crazy—crazier than she was, anyway.

"J, wake up!" Sam called again, knocking impatiently. "We're eating breakfast and then leaving!"

"I'm up!" Julia called back as she stood up, pulling a sheet up around her just in case Sam did break in and caught an eyeful of her very naked body. "Give me a few."

The knocking ceased so she guessed that Sam heard her. She grabbed a change of clothes and then hightailed it into the shower; she was sweaty, smelt like alcohol, and there was something sticky between her thighs that had her blushing.

When she was done making sure everything was washed thoroughly, she got dressed and unlocked the door connecting her room to Sam and Dean's. She didn't stop to think about any potential embarrassment that came with the morning-after with Dean. She was too hungry for that.

"Finally," Sam sighed when she walked into the room. "I've never seen you sleep that late before."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows and looked at the clock on the wall; it was almost ten. "Oh, sorry," she shook her head. "I guess I was tired."

"I bet you were," Dean spoke up from his seat next to Sam at the table, a naughty smirk on his face that his brother was oblivious to. "Hungry?"

"Yes," Julia flushed at Dean's remark but didn't let it get to her as she went to sit at the table and dig into the food they brought her. "Did you guys burn the painting?"

"Yep," Dean confirmed as she opened the container that held a bagel, cheesy eggs, and sausage; he stood up and walked over to his bed, starting to pack his bag. "In and out; easy as pie."

Julia hummed as she took a bite of her bagel, watching Sam as he frowned down at the table. "You okay, Sam?" she asked after she swallowed. "You look sad."

"Oh, no, I'm okay," Sam assured her quickly.

Julia could see right through him; something was bothering him and she would bet money that it had something to do with Sarah. His energy practically danced around him, full of indecision, guilt, and grief. Julia figured that he liked Sarah but was feeling guilty about Jess; it was a tough situation and she really felt for him.

"Shit," Dean suddenly cursed as he rummaged through his bags. "We have a problem; I can't find my wallet."

Sam seemed thankful for the fact that Dean had distracted Julia and the knowing gaze she was giving him. "How is that our problem?"

"Because I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night."

Julia looked at him in shock. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Dean left his bed to shrug on his jacket. "It's got my prints, my ID—well, my fake ID, anyway...We gotta get it before someone else finds it."

"Dean, I just started to eat," Julia protested, gesturing down to her food.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, shortcake," Dean rolled his eyes at her. "Come on, let's go."

They got to Daniel Blake's auction house fifteen minutes later. They started at the right side of the building first, looking in and around items that were up for show. There was no sign of Dean's wallet any where.

Sam sighed, frustrated. "How do you lose your wallet, Dean?"

Dean threw his hands up defensively and continued to look, walking into the next aisle.

"Hey, guys!" Sarah walked up to them with an easy smile.

Sam practically flailed and almost fell over if it weren't for the fact that Julia grabbed his arm to steady him. "Sarah, hey!" he exclaimed while Julia waved with a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh..." Sam looked at Julia for help but she just smiled sweetly at him. "We—we're leaving town and we came to say goodbye."

Dean walked over from the aisle he was looking in. "What are you talking about, Sam?" he drawled, coming up to Julia's side. "We're sticking around for at least another day or two."

Julia and Sam gave him looks of confusion while Sarah smiled.

"Oh, Sam," Dean dug his wallet out of his jeans and opened it up, taking out a twenty. "By the way, I wanted to give you that twenty bucks I owe you. I always forget," he chuckled and handed him the money. "There you go."

Julia smiled in realization; Dean was being a little matchmaker. It was cute but, at the same time, she didn't want him to push Sam.

Sam practically ripped the bill out of Dean's hands.

"Well, we'll leave you two crazy kids alone," Dean grabbed Julia's hand. "We gotta go do something...somewhere."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "We do?"

Dean rolled his eyes and tugged her away from Sam and Sarah. She flushed when she realized that he just wanted to give the two of them some time alone without their presence making it awkward. Knowing Sam, though, he'd make it awkward enough without them around.

"You shouldn't push Sam, you know," Julia told Dean as he led her out to the Impala.

Dean gave her a curious look. "Why not? He likes Sarah."

"Yeah, I know he does but he's also still grieving for Jess," she explained as he leaned against Baby. "He's feeling guilty for liking another woman."

"Hmm," Dean hummed, wrapping his hands around her hips to bring her closer to him; Julia shivered, pleased with the contact. "And how do you know that?"

"His energy," she told him simply, moving to wrap her arms around his waist. "It's getting easier to read you guys since I'm around you all the time."

"Is it?" Dean raised an eyebrow, his green eyes sparkling down at her. "What does my energy say today?"

Julia grinned. "You're feeling mischievous..."

"Mmm," Dean leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"and caring..."

"Of course," he pecked the tip of her nose.

"and excited."

"I think that one's a given, baby," he kissed her lips for only a second, earning himself a pout when he pulled away. "Are you okay with this?"

"Are you?" Julia countered curiously.

Dean could see the worried look in her eye and while he was worried himself, he knew that he couldn't walk away from Julia. Not after all they had been through. Not after the previous night. Not with the way he felt about her.

"I care about you, Julia. In a way that I can honestly say I've never felt before," Dean told her. "and I'm not good at relationships but if we can take it slow..."

Do not let go of Dean Winchester, another whisper flittered through her head.

"We can take it slow," Julia agreed; if that was what Dean needed then she would give that to him. "but I need to know that this isn't going to be a one-sided thing, Dean."

"Like am I gonna fuck around with other chicks?"

Julia clicked her tongue. "Must you be so vulgar?"

"Well, that wasn't what you were saying last night," Dean smirked, causing her to blush and slap his chest playfully. "But yes, Julia, I will not sleep with anyone but you."

Julia grinned at him. "And I won't sleep with anyone but you, too."

"Good," Dean gave her another quick peck. "cause you're mine and I don't share."

"Caveman."

"I'll show you a caveman," Dean growled playfully, smushing his lips to her jaw and pretending to gnaw on the skin. Julia squeaked and giggled, coaxing a few chuckles out of Dean as she tried to squirm away.

They heard the doors to the auction house open and abruptly pulled away from each other, thinking along the same lines. They didn't want anyone to know about this yet; especially since they were taking things slow.

Sam hurriedly walked toward the car, oblivious that anything less than friendly had been happening between Julia and Dean. Julia was caught off guard by the urgent and worried expression on his face.

It didn't take long for Sam to reach them. "We have a problem," he breathed. "The painting. It's still there."

"You're fucking with us, aren't you?" Dean asked him, not taking the bait. "This is because I made you come here, isn't it?"

"What? No!" Sam shook his head. "Dean, I'm not lying. The painting is still there. Like we never burned the damn thing."

The three of them got into the Impala so no one could overhear their conversation.

"I don't understand," Julia admitted, leaning her elbows on the front seat. "How did it survive?"

"I have no idea," Dean grumbled. "but we need to figure out another way to get rid of it," he turned to Sam. "Any ideas?"

"Okay, all right," Sam gathered his thoughts. "Well, in almost all the lore about haunted painting, it's always the painting's subject that haunts them."

Dean nodded. "So, we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creep-ass family and that creepy-ass painting..."

-

They headed to the local library to do some digging. Luckily for them, the library employed its own local history expert named Keith who was very enthusiastic when Julia, Dean, and Sam went to him to ask about the Isaiah Merchant family. He was especially fond of Julia, gushing over the fact that she looked a little like his oldest granddaughter.

It took only ten minutes for Keith to find information about Isaiah Merchant. He slammed down two large books, one was a regular textbook while the other held old newspaper articles, down onto the table that Julia, Dean, and Sam sat around at.

"You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?" Keith checked one more time.

Julia nodded. "Yes, sir."

Keith happily opened the book of newspapers. "I dug up every scrap of local history I could find," he informed them. "So, are you three crime buffs?"

"Kind of," Dean confirmed as he sat on the table to get a better look of what Keith was showing them. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Keith held up a newspaper; the frontline was about the sinking of the Titanic but Keith tapped on one of the smaller articles to the side. It read, Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.

"Yes," Dean pointed at it. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Sam studied the article. "The whole family was killed?"

Keith nodded. "It seems this Isaiah, he slit his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself," he told them. "Now, he was a barber by trade; used a straight razor."

Julia wrinkled her nose. "Why did he do it?"

"Well, let's look," Keith said enthusiastically, turning to the full article and beginning to read, "People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament who controlled his family with an iron fist. He had a wife, two sons, and an adopted daughter...yada, yada, oh...There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave," he looked up to explain, "Which, of course, you know in that day and age...so, instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave."

Keith snickered and made a slitting gesture across his throat; Julia and Sam didn't find it very funny but Dean gave him a couple of chuckles before sobering up when Julia and Sam gave him stern looks.

"So," Dean turned back to Keith. "Does it say what happened to the bodies?"

Keith took another peek at the article. "It says they were all cremated."

Julia, Dean, and Sam exchanged pointed looks before Sam asked Keith, "Anything else?"

"Yes, actually," Keith nodded and set down the newspaper before picking up the book. He flipped to the page that he had marked, showing it to them. "I found a picture of the family."

The picture looked just like the painting that Sam and Dean tried to destroy. There was a little difference between the two, though. When Julia had seen the portrait last, the father had been looking down; in the picture, Isaiah was facing the painter head-on.

"Keith, could we get a copy of this?" Julia asked, giving the man a sweet smile.

"Sure thing," Keith nodded happily. "Just give me a second."

-

"I'm telling you, man, I'm sure of it," Sam insisted, pushing the picture Keith had printed for them to Dean. "The painting at the auction house had Isaiah looking down. The painting here, he's looking out. It changed."

Dean grabbed the photo and looked at it for a second. "All right, so, you think that daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did to his family?"

"Well, yeah, it seems like it," Sam said quickly. "But if his bones are already dusted, how are we gonna stop him?"

"If Isaiah changed in the painting, do you think that something else changed too?" Julia spoke up, lounging at the end of Sam's bed.

"Could be," Dean shrugged, getting up from the table where he sat across from Sam to plop onto his bed. "Maybe it will give us some clues."

"What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?" Sam looked at him skeptically.

Dean hesitated for a few seconds before admitting, "I don't know. I'm still waiting for the movie on that one."

Julia grinned softly and rolled her eyes before focusing on the painting. "Okay, so we have to get back in and see the painting."

"Which is a good thing because you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend," Dean added, pointing to Sam.

"Dude," Sam gave his brother an annoyed look. "Enough already."

"What?"

"What?" Sam repeated in disbelief. "Ever since we got here you've been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?"

Dean crossed his arms and rested them on his stomach. "Well, you like her, don't you?" Sam shrugged and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "All right, you like her, she likes you, you're both consenting adults..."

"What's the point, Dean?" Sam asked angrily. "We'll just leave. We always leave."

"Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam!"

"I don't get it," Sam raised his voice. "Why do you care if I hook up?"

"Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the damn time," Dean answered him calmly.

"Dean," Julia gave him a warning look while Sam scoffed in disbelief.

Dean sighed and sat up so his back was off the headboard. "You know, seriously Sam, this isn't just about hooking up, okay? I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you," Sam sighed and scratched the back of his head, looking away guiltily. "And...I don't mean any disrespect but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right?"

Julia inhaled softly, shocked to hear Dean use what she told him earlier. She didn't think he was doing it to make things worse; he looked concerned for his baby brother and was trying to give him some guidance.

"Now, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but..." he hesitated, a faraway look in his green eyes. "but I would think that she would want you to be happy God forbid have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?"

Having known Jess for years, ever since they were roomed together freshman year of college, Julia spoke up. "She would, Sam," she whispered. "I know it hurts, I know...but Jess would be happy for you."

Sam smiled fondly, remembering how much Jess loved him and wanted him to be happy. "Yeah, she would," he agreed softly. "and yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica but not the main part."

"What do you mean, Sam?" Julia asked quietly. "What's it about?"

Sam pursed his lips sadly and looked away from her, glancing down at the table. It was strange; Sam used to never shy away from telling her what was going on with him. They used to share everything; from nightmares to relationship insecurities.

"All right," Dean spoke up, knowing that Sam wasn't going to answer Julia; he laid back down. "Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so..."

Sam cleared his throat and grabbed his phone, dialing Sarah's number. "Hey, Sarah, it's Sam," he spoke into the phone. "Good. Good, yeah. What about you? Yeah, good, really good..."

Julia grinned in amusement, giving Sam a thumbs' up when he looked at her with an awkward smile. Dean snickered, whispering something about Sam being as smooth as crunchy peanut butter.

"So, ah, listen," Sam cut to the chase. "My friend, Julia, she was thinking that maybe she'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I think she's interested in buying it...What?!" he exclaimed, standing up in shock; Julia and Dean perked up, wondering what was going on. "Who'd you sell it to? Sarah, I need an address right now."

-

It turned out that Daniel Blake had sold the painting to a woman named Evelyn, despite the fact that Sarah didn't want it sold so soon after the Telescas' deaths. Julia, Dean, and Sam rushed to Evelyn's house, with Sarah meeting up with them, but were too late to save Evelyn. She had her throat slit from ear to ear while the painting was posted on the fireplace mantle a few feet away from her.

The three of them left the house after pulling Sarah away from Evelyn's body, leaving the freaked-out woman to deal with the police herself. They had gone back to the motel to wait for news and do a little research when Sarah showed up, knocking on the door.

"Hey," Sam let her into the room. "Are you all right?"

"No, actually," Sarah retorted as she stomped over to the table, putting her back to Julia and Dean to confront Sam. "I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's alone and found her like that."

Dean smirked over at Julia and she shook her head at him.

Sam sighed in relief. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, I'm about to call them right back and tell them what the hell's going on," Sarah snapped at him. "Who's killing these people?"

Sam looked to Julia and Dean for guidance; when they both nodded at him, he corrected Sarah, "What."

Sarah gave him a confused look. "What?"

"It's not a who," Sam elaborated. "It's what is killing those people."

From the look that Sarah shot Sam, Julia could tell that she already thought they were insane.

"Sarah, you saw that painting move."

"No...No, I was...I was seeing things," Sarah shook her head, remembering the way that Isaiah looked at her when she found Evelyn's body. "It's impossible."

"Yeah, well, welcome to our world," Dean commented.

Julia rolled her eyes at Dean and then addressed Sarah, "Look, we sound crazy, we know, but that painting is haunted."

Sarah scoffed lightly, tears coming to her eyes. "You're joking," she looked to Sam; when she saw that he was serious, she rolled her eyes. "You're not joking. God, the guys I chose to go out with."

"Sarah, think about it," Sam urged her. "Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting and there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die and we're just trying to stop it. That's the truth."

Sarah inhaled deeply but came around to the idea of the painting being haunted pretty quickly. "Then I guess you better show me," she demanded. "I'm coming with you."

"What?" Sam was taken aback. "No, Sarah, no. You should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and...and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Look, you guys are probably crazy but if you're right about this, then me and my dad sold this painting that got these people killed," Sarah said firmly. "Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, because I am scared as hell but...I'm not going to run and hide, either."

Julia grinned at Sarah. She was always so impressed when random civilians stood up to do what was right, even if the thing they were standing up against was supernatural. Their whole lives, they didn't know things like this existed but, when push came to shove, they were there to make things right. It was inspiring; it was why she loved people and why she loved what she did.

"Well said," Julia jumped out of her seat and held her hand out for Sarah.

Sarah high-fived her and then looked at Sam expectantly, "So, are we going or what?"

-

Julia, Dean, Sam, and Sarah broke into the crime scene that was Evelyn's house so they could compare the painting to the picture of the painting. They discovered that the razor in the picture was closed while the razor in the actual painting was open. There was also another difference where the painting inside the painting was of the Merchant crypt.

The four of them went through two different cemeteries before they found the crypt in the third one. The Merchant crypt had an old teddy bear and the daughter's glass doll preserved, along with four urns, which meant that Isaiah Merchant had been buried somewhere else.

While Sam and Sarah sat and had a heart-to-heart, Julia and Dean went to find out exactly if and where Isaiah Merchant was buried. It turned out that the surviving Merchant family was ashamed of Isaiah so they handed his body over to the county, who buried him. When nighttime came, the four of them went to his grave and dug Isaiah up, salting and burning his bones.

Once everything was done and Isaiah was dust, Julia, Dean, Sam, and Sarah drove back to Evelyn's house to check on the painting. Sarah and Sam went into the house by themselves—much to Dean's insistence because he thought Sam should make a move on Sarah—while Julia and Dean stayed in the Impala with the motor running.

While Sam and Sarah were in the house, the door was forcefully slammed shut. Dean and Julia were unable to get it open, despite picking the lock and trying to kick it down. Sam called them and informed them that it was the daughter was the one who was killing people. When the spirit tried to attack Sam, he held her off until they figured out that the girl's doll had been made with her real hair.

Julia and Dean took off back to the cemetery to visit the Merchant's crypt. The glass incasing the doll was thick and hard to break open but Dean eventually figured out that he could just shoot the glass away. Julia took her sweet time trying to lit the lighter, which was not cooperating, but after a couple hundred tries, she managed to light the doll's hair on fire. It was just in time, too, because it turned out that the spirit was just about to kill Sam and Sarah.

The next morning, Julia did some research on the Merchant daughter while Sarah made sure that the painting was being hauled away someone couldn't buy it again. She and Dean met back up with her and Sarah outside of the auction house where they were prepared to say goodbye.

"This was archived in the county records," she informed Sam and Sarah, holding up the papers she printed. "The Merchant's adopted daughter was named Melanie. She was up for adoption because her real family was murdered in their beds."

"She killed them?" Sarah asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "Who would suspect her? She looks like a sweet little girl."

"Isaiah took the blame and his spirit has been trying to warn people ever since," Julia finished. "Poor guy."

"Where's this one go?" one of Sarah's employees asked her, gesturing to the crate where the Merchant portrait was held.

"Take it out back and burn it," Sarah order; her employee looked at her like she was crazy. "I'm serious, guys. Thanks."

When the employee and his partner picked up the crate and carried it out of the show room, Sarah turned to Julia, Dean, and Sam. "So, why'd the girl do it?"

"Killing others or killing herself?" Sam shrugged. "Some people are just born tortured. So, when they die, their spirits are just as dark."

"Maybe," Dean gruffed. "I don't really care. It's over, we move on."

Sarah nodded in realization and looked at Sam sadly. "I guess this means you're leaving."

Julia looked between her and Sam and then back again before grabbing Dean's arm. "We'll go wait in the car," she told them before smiling at Sarah. "Nice meeting you, Sarah."

"See you around," Dean added as Julia started pulling him out of the building; Sarah hardly noticed them leaving. "We're the ones that burned the doll and destroyed the spirit but don't thank us or anything."

"Oh, so bitter," Julia sang teasingly. "The hero didn't get the girl this time. What ever shall he do?"

"I got the girl," Dean grabbed her hand from his arm and twirled her around, wrapping his arms around her waist. "just not the damsel in distress."

Julia smiled happily up at Dean, cherishing the way his green eyes lit up in happiness. She stood on her tip-toes and pursed her lips, giggling when Dean chased them down with his own.

(Gif is not mine)

[quicksilversquared]

Kill Shot

Marinette is tired of getting her school days ruined by bullies. She's tired of having to deal with them and with adults not doing anything to stop them.

So she hits back. And when she does- well, bullies beware, because this girl means business.

links in the reblog

Marinette was tired.

She was tired of missing class and events to fight akumas, and tired of making excuses to cover her absences and then having to make up the work on her own later. She was tired of comforting people after Chloe bullied them and seeing absolutely no consequences for the school's biggest bully, again and again and again. And she was really, really tired of Lila. Of hearing her lies, of seeing her classmates sucked in to the increasingly ridiculous tales, of getting blown off by Alya whenever she tried pointing out contradicting things in Lila's stories and of having to decide whether or not hanging out with her friends outside of school was really worth tolerating Lila's company for even longer than usual.

There was nothing she could really do about the akumas besides just fight them, at least not at the moment. Marinette was planning on using her spring break to buckle down and do some serious brainstorming about how she and Chat Noir could track Hawkmoth down and end the battles for good, but the break was another couple weeks out yet. That just left her Chloe and Lila problems. Two bullies, but both carrying out their bullying in very different ways and making her life very, very difficult.

Weren't adults supposed to be the ones to deal like stuff like this? Why did she have to be the one to do all of the fighting against evil? That just wasn't- it wasn't fair. Marinette was supposed to be able to be a kid right now, and dealing with supervillains and bullies was taking that away from her. More than anything, Marinette wanted to be able to fully enjoy her days together with her friends without having to be on guard and alert all the time.

Sure, maybe she could just do her best to ignore some things. But allowing evil to fester wasn't the answer, either. Not when Lila had threatened Marinette and was clearly doing her best to trip up Ladybug, and both she and Chloe were causing (or being) regular akumas.

Trying to call Lila out straight wasn't going to work, Adrien had been right about that much. It was irritating to admit, but she had her claws in too deep and was too good at turning on the fake tears when anyone challenged anything she said. Marinette had to be crafty if she wanted to outfox Volpina. And as for Chloe...

Well, she was supposed to just be able to go to an adult and report the bullying and have it dealt with by people in charge, but the adults seemed to be unwilling to actually do anything, because of the Mayor. Which meant that the root of the problem was there, somewhere, but how was she meant to deal with it? She couldn't just go up and judo-kick the Mayor as Ladybug to solve the problem. Marinette wished that it was that easy.

Marinette mulled over the problem as she sat in class, waiting for their teacher to come in and start the day's lesson. There had to be other ways to call out a liar other than sitting in class and pointing out every contradiction and inaccuracy and straight-up lie that came out of Lila's mouth. She could text Penny and have Jagged Stone make some comment during his next interview, but that would just be a small bunch of lies disproved and Lila would no doubt make up some new story about why Jagged Stone was refuting her claims. Lila had done that when Adrien pointed out that Ladybug had already called her out, and it was just going to happen again with every other lie Marinette pointed out.

(In fact, it had happened with every last one of the lies that Marinette pointed out. Lila came up with a new story, every one less believable than the last, and yet...)

She could try to get Lila cornered in a lie that someone else in class- say, Alya- would know was a lie, like something about Rena Rouge, but if Lila picked up on the fact that Marinette was trying to get her to say something specific...

Well, she would wonder why Marinette suddenly cared about her opinion, for one thing. She would wonder why that topic. And it could be dangerous, too. Lila would wonder why both Marinette and Alya (and Nino, too) would know that whatever she said about Rena Rouge would be a lie. So that was out for sure. And if she went the route of trying to convince one or two people at a time, the chance that one of them would go to Lila and ask her about something and therefore give away Marinette's plan was too high. Lila would retaliate then for sure, and Marinette really didn't need yet another thing to deal with right now.

In fact, that strategy in general sounded like a lot of work, and that was the opposite of what Marinette needed right now and the opposite of what she was going for. No, what she needed was a one-shot thing that would take Lila out solidly and for good.

And the sooner she could think of something and implement it, the better.

Marinette spent Saturday morning getting all of her homework out of the way so that she could spend her afternoon in the park, relaxing and getting some sorely-needed inspiration for a new set of designs. A summer dress was slowly taking place in her design book, and it was truly a pity that it would probably never actually be created. She just didn't have enough time, nor enough money to buy the fabric for all of her projects now that she had to cut back on the babysitting. After far too many times when she had been watching after Manon and an akuma showed up, she had had to ask Madam Chamack to keep her as an emergency babysitter only instead of Manon's regular sitter.

It was just one more way that she was getting stretched too thin.

It was relaxing to sit in the park and just be able to glance around and enjoy the calm, Marinette reflected as she added one last line to her drawing before sitting back. She hadn't gotten to do that frequently enough recently, too caught up in needing to keep on top of her schoolwork and then making presents for her friends and getting tangled up in schemes to ask Adrien out (and that...yeah, those were exhausting, too. She was going to tell the girls that she needed a break from that, too, just for a bit), and she hadn't realized before how much she missed it. The background noises of kids running around and cars driving past and the muted conversation from pedestrians was calming-

"Jean-Paul just kicked me!"

...the sound of arguing children was less so.

Marinette sighed and opened her eyes in time to see another small child scowling at the first. "Tattle-tale! You always go running to my mommy!"

"Maybe so, but we don't kick others," Jean-Paul's mom scolded. "And you'll be getting in trouble for that. If you can't play nice with others in the park, we're going home."

"But mommy-!"

Marinette watched as the crying child was hauled out of the park. The kicked child went running back to the group of kids playing with a ball nearby, a smile on his face as he did. He could play without fear of being pushed around now, and it showed.

And just like that, an idea hit Marinette like lightning.

That was it! She could tattle to Mrs. Rossi. Lila's mom would know the truth of who Lila had and hadn't met, and of course she would know where Lila had actually been during those months and months of when Lila had claimed that they were out of the country (and, as anyone with eyes could see, had Skyped them from in front of streets strangely devoid of pedestrians aka posters). She was probably oblivious to her daughter's actions, and honestly, it was time for that to come to an end.

(And now that Marinette thought about it, wasn't it likely that Mrs. Rossi was getting manipulated by Lila too? How else could Lila get away with skipping school for months?)

The main problem, Marinette decided, was that she didn't know Lila's mom. She couldn't just go to the embassy and expect to be let in and led straight to Mrs. Rossi. Besides, she didn't exactly want Lila to find out who had let her mom know about her lies, not with Hawkmoth still active and Lila getting akumatized every time she was even mildly inconvenienced. But maybe she could do some research online and figure out exactly where she needed to go before acting.

Newly re-energized, Marinette packed up and headed home, making a beeline to her room. As she settled down, her phone buzzed with a message from Alya, asking if she was positive that she couldn't make it to the class outing that afternoon. Adrien was going to be able to make it for once, and maybe she could ask him out then!

Marinette sighed and rolled her eyes. Yes, she was positive. Lila was going to be there, and if Adrien was there, too, Lila was going to be hanging all over him and Marinette wouldn't get a chance to even get close. And even if she got a couple minutes with him, she didn't want to risk stuttering her way through a conversation with him with Lila hovering nearby, ready to take advantage of any weakness that Marinette showed.

Besides, she had research to do.

By the time dinner rolled around, Marinette had made some good progress. While poking through the government webpages to find the embassy, she had found some other interesting pages, ones that she bookmarked to come back to later. She had also found Lila's mom's page and another page that confirmed that Mrs. Rossi had never left the country when Lila had said they would.

If she had thought to look for something like that before, Marinette might have just brought that to Ms. Bustier's attention and let things fall apart from there. But now that she had come up with the idea of emailing Lila's mom directly, she was going to follow through with it. That was guaranteed to have pretty swift and complete results, whereas just telling Ms. Bustier might not have as much of an effect.

(That was still being kept as a backup plan, though. Marinette added it to her dossier of bookmarks.)

"Are you emailing tonight, Marinette?"

Marinette shook her head as she headed for her trapdoor. "No, I'm not. The timing has to be right, and I've decided that I need to make sure that I have evidence to send to back up at least some of the things that I'm saying. Some recordings, maybe, or- or something."

She was going to take Lila down in a single go, and she was going to do it right.

Marinette's Week of Evidence-collecting started out strong. Lila was still coming up with at least one or two lies per day- well, or at least referencing old lies, Marinette didn't think that all of them were new but she was hardly wasting the energy on listening to and remembering everything that Lila said- and with Tikki's help, Marinette was getting recordings of almost all of them. While the audio was a bit muffled at times (Marinette edited it later, so that it was easier to hear), it was clearly Lila's voice.

Besides, her classmates kept saying 'tell us more, Lila!' or 'that's so cool, Lila!', so if there was any question with whose voice it was, that should lay those questions to rest.

On top of that, Marinette had noticed that Lila spent a lot of time hanging off of Adrien, clinging to him and even going so far as to press kisses to his cheek while he was trying to squirm away. She needed to get punished for that, too, so Marinette managed to take a couple videos on her phone of Lila thoroughly invading Adrien's space and him looking deeply uncomfortable to send to Lila's mom.

Mid-week, Marinette saw something that made her very, very glad that she was taking action.

Lila had asked to go to the bathroom midway through class, and then Marinette got sent to the principal's office on an errand. On the way back from the office, with a stack of permission notes in her hand, Marinette spotted two things down on the first floor.

One was an akuma, fluttering towards a classroom. The other was Lila, headed for the akuma, chasing after it with her eyes fixed on the purple butterfly.

Marinette's phone was in her hand and recording before she even fully registered it. And there, in full color, she saw Lila catch up to the akuma and catch it in her necklace, accepting Hawkmoth's power faster than anyone else Marinette had ever seen. In a burst of black bubbles, she transformed.

And that was quite enough video. Marinette ended the recording and saved it, then made a sprint for the nearest closet to transform before Lila's latest akuma form could get too far.

(The fight still made it to the street, but at least Volpina couldn't get into her normal habit of hiding and forcing the superheroes to search for her for hours on end.)

Thursday, Marinette collected her final bit of evidence. She wanted Lila to get in trouble for her threats, too, which meant that she had to record them. That meant provoking Lila into cornering her in the bathroom, which... well, that wasn't hard, either. All it took was subtly calling out a lie in class and Lila's hackles were raised.

And just like clockwork, it happened.

"You will regret trying to get people to stop believing me," Lila snarled that afternoon. Marinette had deliberately hung around in the library for a bit, letting people filter out of school before heading for the girls' bathrooms. "They're all twisted around my fingers, you can't snap them out of it. Just watch, soon all of your friends will ditch you to come join me."

"I'm just trying to keep them from getting hurt," Marinette shot back. "You're just using them and making them do your work for you. When they find out-"

"They'll never find out, not unless I've long since moved on and it doesn't matter anymore." Lila's smirk was absolutely infuriating, but Marinette was going to ignore it. "And all of the adults believe me, too. Who's going to tell poor busy Lila that she's not doing enough work on her group project when she's so busy helping Prince Ali come up with fundraiser ideas to raise money to help disabled kids in rural Africa?"

Marinette's gaze darkened. "You're deplorable. I'm never going to let your lies go uncontested."

Lila tossed her hair. "Blah, blah, blah. You're all talk. But if the thought of losing all of your friends isn't enough- if you don't stop trying to interfere, maybe the news stations would be interested in hearing all about the mouse droppings I found in a Dupain-Cheng Bakery pastry."

...oh, Marinette was so glad that she was recording right now. A threat to fake a health and safety issue like that was serious.

"Don't you dare try to bring my parents' business into this," Marinette said at once, just out of reflex. Lila smirked, heading for the bathroom door.

"What are you going to do to stop me, exactly? Just keep your mouth shut and we won't have any problems."

With that, she left. Marinette was practically shaking with rage. After a second, though, she took a deep breath, then another.

Lila might fancy herself some sort of grand manipulator, but right now she was dancing to Marinette's tune.

Friday noon, Marinette had her emails ready to go. One was sent to a certain embassy member, detailing all of Lila's claims and everything else that she had done and finishing with links for the school website as well as her teacher and the principal's emails and phone numbers. Several minutes after that, another email went out, this time to both a French government ethics committee and the Paris school board and reporting the Mayor of Paris for abusing his power and the principal of François-Dupont for failing to stand up to the mayor and failing to protect the rest of his students from a bully for years.

"Two birds, one stone," Marinette said contentedly as she pushed herself away from the computer, closing the window once she had confirmed that everything had sent. "I've just reported the facts, and now the chips can fall where they may. I don't have to deal with it anymore and I won't burn myself out dealing with bullies."

Tikki beamed. "That's so smart, Marinette! But..." She frowned, confused. "You didn't link that video of Lila going after the akuma!"

"No, I didn't," Marinette said cheerfully, pushing herself out of her chair and heading for the door. If she didn't hurry, she was going to be late for afternoon classes, and her attendance record really didn't need that. "I have other plans for that video. You'll see."

By the time Marinette got to school on Monday, everything had changed. Chloe was sitting quietly in her seat for once, all of the wind taken out of her sails after an investigation had been launched over the weekend against the mayor for abuse of power. Mayor Bourgeois had gone silent on his Twitter and refused to make an official statement. Primary investigations that had happened over the weekend- investigations that had started seriously quickly- had already turned up several witnesses who had been threatened or bribed into doing things for the mayor and his daughter, so his political career was looking less than promising going forward.

On top of that, the rumor in the hallways- courtesy of a student who had a parent on the school board- was that the principal and all of the teachers were being required to take a course on dealing with bullies. Everyone knew which bully they referring to, too, but why the school board was suddenly taking action was still a question.

(Marinette knew that already, thanks to the response that she had gotten to her email. She also happened to know that Board of Education representatives would be stopping in unannounced and on a fairly regular basis to observe the teachers and interview random students about how the teachers were dealing with bullies and other issues, so that they couldn't get away with making victims of bullying be the 'bigger person' instead of actually dealing with the bully again.)

And then Lila's mom marched her into homeroom, an irritated look on her face. Lila, who was trailing along behind her, looked a bit trapped.

In her seat, Marinette tapped a couple buttons on her tablet before turning her attention fully to the front. Ms. Bustier got up to talk to Mrs. Rossi at once, the two of them exchanging quiet words while the rest of the class looked on in confusion. Adrien came in, took one look at the scene in front, and then sent a puzzled look in Marinette's direction.

Marinette was quite enjoying the whole situation right now, to be honest. Even if Lila wasn't looking as thoroughly crushed as she had hoped, she was sure that Lila was seething inside.

"Class, Lila has a few things that she wants to share with the class this morning," Ms. Bustier said once the bell had rung. "Lila?"

Lila shuffled her feet, glancing at the floor. A sad look slid onto her face, and Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Clearly Lila was going to try to get enough sympathy from people to slither her way out of this situation, too.

It wasn't going to happen.

"I was really nervous about being the new girl in class when I arrived here in the middle of the school year," Lila started, glancing out from under her lashes. "And with so many people here having had such cool experiences and connections! So I... might have made some things up to try to fit in. I'm sorry for misleading people, I just- I wanted people to like me."

Marinette rolled her eyes as exclamations of "we would have liked you anyway, Lila!" and "That's okay, Lila!" rang out all over the room. How were all of her classmates so hooked by Lila? Was no one going to actually be upset about being misled and hoodwinked?

"And by some things, Lila means pretty much everything that she told you," Mrs. Rossi corrected, and Lila turned a devastated look to her. Apparently she hadn't expected her mom to chime in again. "She has not only not met a lot of celebrities- or any, really- or hung out with them or saved their cats or had songs written about her, but she does not have any illnesses, and we've only left the country for a weekend at a time since we arrived here, not for months, and we only went back to visit family in Italy. She has not been involved in any sort of charity work. And it was very wrong of her to claim that she was, particularly when she was using that as an excuse to get out of doing her schoolwork."

"I just wanted to fit in," Lila sniffled, wiping at her eyes. "And I was hoping that maybe I could do some of those things eventually, maybe, or-"

"Additionally, Lila owes an apology to Adrien for hanging all over him and forcing kisses on him when he clearly was not comfortable," Mrs. Rossi continued, and in front of Marinette, Adrien startled. "And for telling people that he was her boyfriend when that clearly was not the case."

Lila visibly wilted. It looked a little practiced. "I'm sorry, I'm bad with boundaries, I- I-"

"I- right," Adrien managed, glancing at Nino a little helplessly. Marinette had a moment to wonder if anyone had ever apologized for invading his space before- she was guessing no, and that was actually pretty sad- before Lila's mom spoke up again.

"Lila also will be apologizing to Marinette for threatening both her and her parents' business when she tried to call out the lies," Mrs. Rossi added, giving her daughter a nudge as the rest of the class gasped. Lila looked like she was being asked to swallow nails now, and judging by the surprise that had initially flashed across her face, her mom hadn't mentioned that bit of the email to Lila before.

Which meant that she hadn't had a response prepared, not that she could wriggle out of that revelation.

"Sorry," Lila spat out after a second. "What I did was wrong and I shouldn't have done it."

"And Marinette, do you accept Lila's apology?" Ms. Bustier asked cheerily, ignoring the now-stewing student next to her. Marinette straightened and glanced at Lila, then turned her attention back to Ms. Bustier.

"No, I don't accept her apology," Marinette said clearly, and she could hear the gasps at that, too. People had apparently thought that she would be kind and forgiving as always, but that wasn't going to happen this time. She wasn't going to back down. "Because clearly Lila isn't actually sorry for threatening me. She's just sorry that she got caught."

Ms. Bustier looked a little uncertain about how she was meant to proceed after that. Clearly she had expected that Marinette would accept the apology graciously and perhaps offer to show Lila how to properly behave or something of the sort.

And that was not happening. Marinette was not obligated to forgive her bullies. The teachers would learn that during their 'how to deal with bullies' course, and if they didn't? Well, the School Board would find out and require more training until the message got through.

"Well, we wanted to make sure that all of Lila's old classmates knew the truth," Mrs. Rossi said after a moment. "Lila will be switching schools, effective today, and her new teachers will be given a heads-up so that this doesn't happen again. Lila, say good-bye. We're leaving now."

Lila waved after a moment's pause, and as she and her mom turned to leave, she sent one final poisonous glare at Marinette. It promised retribution, but Marinette didn't falter at all. In fact, as she glanced down at her tablet and saw the response to the email that she had sent right before class, she smiled.

Lila might think that this was all of the punishment that she was going to get, but she couldn't be more wrong. After all, the police were apparently been very interested in the recording and videos that she had just sent them. Allegations that someone was working with Hawkmoth were taken very seriously, and the video of Lila grabbing an akuma that wasn't even going for her so that she could transform and the interview that Marinette had gotten with Chat Noir over the weekend where he had stated that Lila had faked injury to distract him and give an akuma easier access to Ladybug while not under the influence of any akuma were pretty damning evidence. And as for the diplomatic immunity that Lila got thanks to her mom…well, Marinette was pretty sure that if Ladybug made a quick visit to the embassy with the evidence over lunch today, the protection would get waived pretty fast. Collaborating with terrorists was not something that they would let slide.

If Lila had thought that she was in trouble before, it was nothing compared to what she was going to be facing now.

Content, Marinette turned back to her notebook. Two of her long-term problems had been solved over a single weekend with a couple well-placed emails, and it was such a weight off of her shoulders. On top of that, the video that she had taken of Lila accepting the akuma had reminded Marinette that while kwamis could not be caught on camera, the same could not be said for Hawkmoth's corrupted butterflies. And that had given her an idea to track down Hawkmoth and end the akuma battles for good.

Next weekend, the superheroes would be making a trip to the police station to meet with the chief and set up a secret array of cameras across the rooftops of Paris to hone in on where the corrupted butterflies were coming from. By the time summer rolled around, she and Chat Noir should know where Hawkmoth's lair was and be able to attack him, ending the fight for once and for all on their terms.

For the first time in what felt like a very long time, Marinette was feeling fully optimistic once more.

[tjkiahgb]

Listen, I got so caught up in Tyrus Week, spending hours and hours going through tags and liking posts and queuing reblogs, that I pretty much pushed everything else to the side. (Plus I’ve also been working on the next thing I’ll tell you guys about in the next few days.)

All that is to say, I got a lot of stuff in my inbox this last week, so I’m just going to tackle a bunch of them in... A LIGHTNING ROUND.

Let’s go.

And before you ask, yes, I made a graphic for it.

Looks like this Andi Mack finale party has turned into... a death party.

Would’ve been a strange choice for Terri Minsky to turn the finale of Andi Mack into a murder mystery, but if that’s what she wanted, I’d trust her.

I don’t watch that show but I know some people who do and they’ve told me it’s just light and airy and pleasant, so, yeah, sounds right up Cyrus’s alley.

You guys are shouting Lightning Round! every time the graphic comes up, right?

I, like TJ, am just some guy. I tell everyone who asks to call me Jay. Jay is long for “J”, which is short for another name that I, also like TJ, only let people related to me by blood or my soulmate know about. I will say it’s not Jagger, though. I wish.

That wasn’t my intention while writing TJ and the Gals, but as with all art, or whatever TJ and the Gals was, once it’s out of the creator’s hands, it belongs to the people.

No.

Thelonious Jagger Kippen Is A Hashtag Good Boi.

Shoutout to my FAQ page, where you can find information like this and more. Not blaming you, anon, I’ve gotten this a lot and the FAQ page is hard to find. I mostly just delete the question and let the anon live in mystery because I’m chaotic something. I’m only answering this now because it’s the

You know the shook_bitch? Thank them from me for getting Disney Channel to respond to them, and congratulate them on being the subject of the best comment the Disney Channel Instagram account ever made.

Yeah, I went back and checked and Jonah only says in 3x12 that his dad made a bad investment, not lost a job or anything.

It really seems like he’s been managing the Judy Bartholomew fortune all these years. We don’t know anything else of him other than he was once a background workout video guy and he has at least enough knowledge about baseball to coach little league.

Hopefully the new job is providing him with a solid salary, but if not, I think the world is ready for a Judy Bartholomew comeback.

Judy Bartholomew: Still Trottin’ After All These Years

I’m not entirely sure exactly which girl we’re talking about here. I think this one:

I will say, she does seem into it. She’s like, oh, things are about to get gay in here.

Honestly, there were so many background actors killing it in this scene.

You’ve got this guy...

...who hears the beginning of “Born This Way” and reacts like it’s ruined his evening. I mean, I was a little tired of it, too, when it was being played on the radio over and over and over, but it’s been some years. It’s not overplayed as much anymore and it definitely wouldn’t make me this upset. (He pops up later in the song and is happily dancing, so maybe he thought it was the beginning of a different song?)

Then there’s this girl...

...who is feeling it. She’s like, hell yeah, this is my jam!

And there’s this girl in the goggles...

...who, after TJ and Cyrus sing the “be myself, respect my youth” part, is like, okayyyy. I see you.

Here’s a fun(?) behind-the-scenes thing for this blog. A few months back, I was thinking about ways to replace “Moments” if we had, by some miracle, gotten a season four, since I would’ve run out of moments weeks after the finale. What I came up with was “The Random Andi Mack Extra of the Day.” It would’ve just been screenshots of random extras throughout the show’s run. Upon some reflection, this was a bad idea.

The first problem here is that I get the feeling those posts would’ve gotten, at most, 20-30 notes each, because no one really cares about random, out of context extras and it doesn’t seem like a thing people would want to reblog.

The second problem is, knowing myself, I probably would’ve spent hundreds of hours during the hiatus between s3 and s4 making 1000 of them in the first place, just so I could have them ready to go. I would’ve absolutely done this without testing the waters first to see if there was any interest. (Just like with the “Moments.” I made like 300 of them before I made the first post about them.)

So, the most likely scenario was going to be me, two weeks into “The RAMEotD,” looking at flopping posts, then looking at my folder of 800 screenshots of Andi Mack extras and going, “Well, what am I going to do, not post them? I already did all the work!” And I would keeping queuing them up, and they would keep appearing on this blog every day, and they would taunt me with their 22 notes. You remember the work you did? IT WAS FOR BUT A PITTANCE!

So I guess what I’m saying is maybe it’s for the best. The cancellation saves me from myself.

Hey, though, heads up. If and when you go back and watch the series again, pay attention to the extras -- the unsung heroes of the entertainment industry. There are some extras reallllly putting in work on this show. It absolutely adds to the delightful quality of Andi Mack. Every time I would spot someone in the background being goofy or really overselling whatever they were supposed to be experiencing, it filled me with joy.

It’s a fun show. Everything about it is fun, including the little details.

Ooh, a serious one. This is going to be my first ever hybrid Discussion/Analysis post.

Okay, so I think we’re talking about two different things here.

I won’t argue that I think Tyrus could have absolutely happened sooner and been explored more.

I obviously can’t say with certainty, but I assume that was at least somewhat the plan leading out of season two. The setup for their relationship was all already there by the end of it. They’d met, they had bumps, they grew really close, and they capped the whole season off with TJ looking back at Cyrus. All the elements were in place that you could jump right into this storyline in TJ’s next appearance. (Not necessarily them canoning, but at least the exploration of TJ’s feelings or some movement towards canoning.)

When Cyrus’s lookback happened, it was addressed in the very next episode (granted following a break in seasons). I don’t know that TJ’s would’ve been as immediate, but I don’t think you have him look back in the season two finale if you don’t intend on truly paying it off for 21 episodes. (Or, at least 13, if you want to say 3x13 was the real start of a storyline involving TJ’s homosexuality.)

So, yeah, look, I’m speculating wildly, but I would imagine the original creative idea was to address TJ’s lookback early in season three and start getting into it, and that, yes, that idea was likely kiboshed from above.

What I will argue is that the bench scene is subtle but not ambiguous. We’ve made the semi-joke constantly around here that there’s “No heterosexual explanation for this!” but, truly, there is no heterosexual explanation for the bench scene: two boys, one of whom has already explicitly stated he’s gay, slowly reaching for and holding each other’s hands, intertwining their fingers while they sit by the fire and stare into each other’s eyes, nervously smiling. This is something that has been built towards for multiple seasons. If you’ve been watching the show, if you’ve been paying attention to it, if you care about the characters, especially TJ and Cyrus, it’s very clear what’s happening here.

This feels like talking about people who weren’t sure Cyrus was gay after the first two times he came out because he didn’t use the word. Or people who thought Cyrus wasn’t gay anymore after he said his crush on Jonah was gone. I sympathize with some of the younger set who maybe don’t have the world sense to follow along with this, but, come on, at some point, we’re three seasons in and you have to keep up with the level of the storytelling. I don’t mean this in an insulting way, but if someone can’t get what’s happening here, then maybe this whole thing isn’t for them. Maybe if all they know right now is that Cyrus is gay and accepted and happy, then that’s good enough, and they can hold onto that idea and grow with that and catch the next train, whenever it comes along. Maybe this moment is for all the people who get it.

That’s about the kids in the casual audience. Now, if we’re talking about an adult homophobe -- one who would express the kind of outrage that we believe Disney fears -- it’s a different story. If an adult homophobe is really watching that scene and thinking, “Seems pretty straight to me” then it feels like it doesn’t matter what they would’ve done in the finale. They could’ve said “gay,” they could’ve said “boyfriend,” Cyrus and TJ could’ve lead a pride parade down the street outside Celia’s house while blasting -- well, I was going to pick a gay song here for the joke, but probably “Born This Way” would be the most appropriate one, so -- “Born This Way” from loud speakers, and that homophobe would’ve been like, “Nice parade.” As ignorant as homophobes are, even they are not that dense. An adult pretending Tyrus isn’t a couple after the bench scene requires a level of impenetrably willful ignorance.

Anyway, the truth is that angry homophobes aren’t watching the show. They never do. They like to read headlines and get mad, but they’re cowardly and, most of all, lazy, and they don’t like to put in the actual footwork. They like to leave comments on articles they haven’t read, about shows they haven’t watched. They like to post reactions to stuff they see in their Facebook feed or send one sentence responses like, “There goes Disney Channel!!!” or “What is happening to our country?!?!” And then they like to scroll on to the next thing that will feed their sad rage about how the world is changing around them.

If you want to think about Disney censorship as a way of preventing those homophobes from being outraged, it’s not the textuality of the scene itself, it’s the placement at the end. Delaying them canoning until the finale just makes for less work. Show’s over. There’s nothing to defend. No one’s signing a petition to get a show off the air that’s just aired its last episode. Most of the articles written will be about everything happening in the finale, and Tyrus would just be a part of it.

And that is more or less what’s happened. Just about every major article I’ve seen about the finale has discussed Tyrus, and discussed them as textually getting together -- again, there’s no ambiguity there -- but has also brought them up in conjunction with what happened with Andi and Jonah, with Muffy getting together, and with Andi getting into SAVA. And the articles themselves tend to largely be about the show ending as a whole and its impact. (No one needs to send me articles trying to prove or disprove this. I’ve been over a lot of them. Some are more Tyrus focused -- the ones in the gay media for sure -- and some just mention it -- more traditional media sources. This is the general gist of most of them.)

So the article headlines mostly read “Andi Mack Finale” or “Andi Mack Ends Run” or something like that. The homophobes -- who, again, aren’t watching the show and are getting all their information about it via article headlines -- see those headlines and don’t even remember Andi Mack was the show they hated from two years ago because their rage is mostly performative and short-lived. They get mad in the minute but forget about the specifics of the stuff within a day.

Like I said in the recap, I won’t argue that there’s a scene with more that wouldn’t work, but I personally don’t see the bench scene as not having accomplished everything it needed to.

Oh, that went longer than I thought it was going to be. Not very lightning round of me.

This actually got sent a while back but it was still in my inbox and I figured I’d throw it in here in case the anon saw it. Lightning round!

Sorry, anon, I wasn’t ignoring you and I appreciate you reading my old recaps, but you were the second anon to piece together that I am actually blessed with psychic powers.

I don’t really have any plans to, sorry.

I had only planned to do one set before and after the finale for Tyrus Week, but I will point you and anyone else interested in making their own TJ and Cyrus texts to this post I made that should give you the basic tools needed for the job. (Use them! You wouldn’t believe what a pain in the butt it was to get that background clean like that!)

Thank you, honestly. That’s so, so sweet. But I have no plans to do that.

Like I mentioned at the start of this post, I’m working on something now that I’ll tell you guys about shortly that’s look-backy and will hit on some stuff from those seasons. (Though not in the same vein as the recaps.)

The recaps take a long time to produce, and as much as I’ve loved this show and this fandom, I will be honest and tell you guys I am sort of planning my exit.

This blog has become something of a part-time job for me. Not in the work sense because I have truly enjoyed all this, but just in the time sense. I’ve put a lot of time in and I would like to rededicate that time back toward other things I’ve put on hold for the last year and a half.

It’s starting to feel like making you shout Lightning Round! each time was a mistake now that I’m answering stuff seriously or sadly.

I was getting emotional multiple times while writing it, because of the show, because of the fandom, because of this whole journey we’ve all been on together.

I appreciate you saying this so much because that’s what I’ve always hoped has come through in the things I’ve written about this show. That I’ll make jokes or point out holes or goofy details or whatever, but that I couldn’t do this -- I couldn’t commit myself to this as much as I have -- if I truly didn’t love the show. That everything I’m doing here comes from a place of love and celebrating the show and embracing it for its good stuff and its silly stuff.

It wasn’t a perfect show, but that was always what made it kind of perfect.

Thanks for the asks. Thus ends the lightning round.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Break Through

Break Through - Kidge Month Day 8 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Kidge Summary: Third part that goes along with these: [One, Two]. With leads and intel running out, Keith and Pidge take a break from their Garrison investigations to grab a bite and maybe raise their spirits. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

She dragged one hand through her hair and let out a loud, infuriated growl. "How are they doing this?" Her voice came out more as a screech than a shout, which caused her partner to wince a bit. A part of her said she should feel guilty, but the much larger part of her was just pissed. “There’s no way that they’ve upped their security this much in less than two months! I shouldn’t be running into this much trouble trying to track down files!”

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out. We’ve already had smaller breaks in this whole thing," He said, a bit of frustration starting to tinge the edge of his words. He pushed another pin into the cork board they used with more force than necessary, clearly trying to keep a handle on his own irritation.

She glared at him over her shoulder, reaching up to push her hair out of her face. "We've been at this for five weeks and we've gotten almost nowhere!"

He glared back at her before indicating her laptop with one hand. "We know there's a missing audio file; that's a huge step in the right direction!" He glanced back at the cork board to verify where they pin had been placed. It was covered in a maps and photos, with pieces of colored yarn attaching each map to its corresponding photo. She could see the familiar spark of determination in his dark eyes as he observed all they’d discovered so far. "It's only a matter of time before we find it."

She scoffed, feeling no where near as certain as he did. "Unless they completely wiped the hard drive. They wouldn't want potentially damning evidence like that just sitting pretty for someone with a little bit of hacking skill to find. It's a huge liability that they can't afford," She grumbled, closing her laptop and shoving it aside. For as much as she wanted to keep going, a part of her felt so tired. She’d been working tirelessly since two and a half weeks ago, when she’d first found the clue in some confidential emails that there was a final audio log picked up from the Kerberos mission. “The Garrison is run by a bunch of assholes, but they’re clever assholes, Keith.”

Keith stared at her before sighing, setting his hands on his hips and looking down at his boots. "Maybe we need a break to help clear our heads. We can get some food or something,"He suggested, lifting his gaze again to look at her. She didn’t look over at him, though, and instead decided to focus on the tiny hole starting to appear in the old socks she was wearing. "Wanna go to the new Denny's they opened up?"

"Whatever," She sighed, stretching her legs out and getting up.

She toed her sneakers on while she pulled her hair back in a messy ponytail, wanting to just get it over with. Her stomach roiled quietly, clearly thrilled at the idea of food, but she didn’t want to yet. She wanted to stay and work more, try to find an answer. If it was there, surely she could find it with a little more time! But no, just because she was feeling a little frustrated, Keith decided they needed to stop any progress! Did he just not care about the fact that the Garrison was spitting outright lies about what had happened to Shiro, Matt and her Dad? She’d noticed he seemed more interested in whatever strange energy reading he’d been tracing through the desert.

She was silent the whole ride to Denny’s staring at the window, stewing in her resentment at Keith for dragging her out.

Despite it being well after midnight, there was a modest crowd at the restaurant. Not enough people that it looked like they’d need to worry about waiting long for service, but certainly more than she’d been anticipating. Normally when they felt the need for post-dinner-pre-breakfast pancakes, they were the only diners in the place. They had to wait a moment while the server dropped some drinks off at one table before being greeted properly.

He offered them a small smile. He seemed a bit tired, but the smile was still genuine. "Good evening. Just two for you?" He asked as he reached to grab two menus.

"Yes, please. Thanks," Keith said gently. They were led to the dining room and were given a corner booth, with an empty booth between them and another pair of dinners. Pidge immediately scooted in as far over she could, glaring out the window again. While she did that, Keith ordered their drinks and opened his own menu. "You know, sitting there and pouting won't accomplish anything, Katie."

She looked over and glared harder, miffed to find he hadn’t even lifted his eyes from the page to address her. "Maybe if I was at my computer I'd be able to do something,"

"Patience yields focus, you know," He commented casually, tilting his head a bit as he looked over an item. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his words and how completely cliche they were. Where had he heard that from, she wondered. The server returned with their drinks and then headed off again at Keith saying they needed more time. She pulled her own drink over and took a sip, unsurprised at the taste of Dr. Pepper. He knew her so well. "Hmm. If I order some mozzarella sticks, would you have some?"

"Where did you hear the hoakey nonsense?" She asked as she stirred her ice with the straw.

He looked confused, finally tearing his gaze from the menu to look at her. "Well, I'm not hungry enough to eat a full meal and a whole order of mozzarella sticks on my own. Plus, I know you like them, too, so it just made sense to ask,"

"What? No, not about the mozzarella sticks," She said, taking another sip before opening her own menu. She may as well figure out what she wanted for herself, too. "That thing you said just now, about patience and what not?"

"Patience yields focus?" He repeated, clearly confused.

"Yeah, that. Where did you hear that from?"

"Oh, Shiro used to say it all the time, when I'd get pissy about stuff with the Garrison. It... It's helped me a lot through this whole situation, remembering what he said back then," He admitted, suddenly seeming uncomfortable. He tore his gaze down, swiped up his water, and started chugging it, as if trying to wash the taste out of his mouth.

"Oh," She trailed off, looking away for a moment before looking back over at him. And, this time, she really looked at him. She had enough time of knowing him to be able to read his subtle gestures. One hand was gripping his water like he was trying to shatter it, the other drumming along the table. His eyes had returned to fix on the menu, but they weren’t registering the words on the page, cloudy with pain. Her own heart lurched, knowing that look and that pain all too well. She looked back down at her drink as shame swallowed her whole. "I'm sorry."

He perked up in surprise and looked at her, blinking rapidly to recompose himself. "For what?"

"You're going through all of this junk, too, and sometimes I forget that. I need to be more aware that I'm not going through this all alone, that you’re trying just as hard as I am,” She admitted, peeking up at him as she spoke.

"It's okay; it's not like I don't occasionally forget myself," He said, offering her a small half-smile in return. Some of the shame wiped away and she squared her shoulders a little bit more as he returned his attention to the menu, turning the page and looking at the dinner options. "When we get back to the house, we should watch a movie or something. Oh, or we could listen to music and just veg out."

“You mean like we used to do on the Garrison roof?” She laughed.

“Yeah, only way better, because we can play the music as loud as we want,” He said with a sly smirk.

“Yeah, but can you even get your stereo up there? Since, you know, you don’t just use streaming sites like the rest of modern society,” She teased, peering over the different breakfast options. She wanted the mozzarella sticks, but pancakes also sounded really good.

He laughed back and took another, smaller sip from his water. “Oh, please! Your streaming sites are only good when you have internet connection. Having a physical copy of the album to use is a great approach; especially with bands or albums that are particularly great,” He retorted.

She opened her mouth to respond before a thought occurred to her, causing her to gasp. “Keith, you genius!” She squealed, reaching across the table to grab his face and pull him closer.

He looked stunned and stared back at her, blinking slowly, before chuckling. “Ah, made you see the light of day?”

“No, what you just said! That it’s good to have a physical copy of something, in case you can’t access it otherwise! That would also be a great approach when dealing with sensitive materials, such as classified files from a computer? Burning a physical copy to keep tucked away somewhere safe, so that you still have a record of it, to maybe assure that people snooping around on your computer can’t find it?” She pressed further, lowering her voice as she spoke her last few words, not wanting to risk being overheard. They hadn’t encountered anyone from the Garrison in their time off base, but she was still a fan of being safe rather than sorry.

He sucked in a quiet breath, eyes widening. “It’s a huge liability they can’t afford, but they also can’t risk not having it, in case of the higher ups wanting it,” He breathed out.

“Exactly,” She hummed, letting go of his face and slumping back in her seat. Her lips turned up in a grin. “Celebratory mozzarella sticks?”

“Fuck it, let’s go all out. Celebratory mozzarella sticks and celebratory milkshakes,” He said with a smirk of his own.

[greencrusader13]

All Were Innocent Once: Chapter 7 - Future Jedi

A little late, but like I said before I’ve had a lot on my plate these past couple weeks. This chapter was originally meant to be much longer and comprise three POVs, but after I realized how long that would take and how much longer of a chapter it would end up being I decided to just break them up again. So this one is a little shorter than usual, but not by much. We finally start seeing some of the characters meeting each other now! Yay!

If you’ve been enjoying please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more content. Any and all support is greatly appreciated. And please feel free to provide feedback and constructive criticism. I’m always looking to improve :)

          The Republic transport craft hummed as it hovered above the atmosphere of the sprawling city encompassing the entire planet. Even without breathing it in Tyar knew the surface would have cleaner air compared to the smell of refuse that would fill his lungs back home. Coruscant was already a far cry from Nar Shaddaa, at least from above the skyline. He’d never been so high up on his home planet.

           His adventure had contained little excitement after leaving home, mostly comprising a considerable amount of sitting and waiting as they took one shuttle after the other on their way to the heart of the Republic. The Jedi who’d found him, Master Valara Vartil, spent most of her time meditating in perfect silence during the lengthy transits, unperturbed by the turbulence they sometimes encountered or the questions he’d ask. She’d always urge him patience, but explain little. Eventually Tyar grew tired of asking at all.

This ride had been no different, and there was at least some comfort in the fact that it was the last one for a while. It didn’t change his boredom. Tyar sat slumped, all but lying flat on his seat while the cabin gently jostled around him in its descent. There was a pile of three holomags to his right, only some of them interesting. He didn’t care for galactic gossip or dining or anything of a banal nature. One series of articles about swoop racing held his attention for an hour, but even the stories grew dull as he ran out of pictures to admire.

           Continually he’d look over and expect to see his big brother there too, but always found the space he should’ve occupied empty. Cirak was still on Nar Shaddaa. They were entire systems apart now, and the space between them felt heavier on Tyar’s shoulders than it had in any of the past days. He’d cried the first night without him, pouring his tears into the blankets he’d been given so no one would see. Somehow when Cirak said everything would be all right, Tyar believed him. Even without Dad he’d felt safer with his big brother around. It didn’t feel right not having him there where he couldn’t hear his words of comfort.

           Tyar glanced to the seat across from him. Master Valara sat cross legged in a meditative posture, her breathing so slow it seemed almost nonexistent. Both seats on either side of her were empty; in fact there were few people aboard anyways. There was the odd Republic soldier standing guard at the front and back of the shuttle, but from what he could see the rows were mostly empty. Tyar’s eyes lingered on one of the soldiers who was leaning against a wall with crossed arms. Growing up he’d seen gang members loitering on the streets of Nar Shaddaa with the same sort of posture, but their expressions had always been hardened and intense, territorial. Here, though, his arms were not held so tight, and there was a slight grin from the corners of his mouth. For this soldier, it was home.

           Grabbing a holomag. Tyar pushed himself upright and slid out of his seat, holding the reader close to his chest. The Jedi Master remained unperturbed by his sudden decision to rise, and so he slinked off without alerting her to his departure. He moved through the sliding doors at one end of the shuttle to another section of the ship. It appeared equally empty, with only a few individuals resting in their seats.

           Master Valara had said something about a war going on, and Cirak had said something similar a bit ago too. Sometimes, late at night when his big brother thought he was asleep, Tyar would find him watching some programming on the conflict, only to turn it off as soon as he noticed him. It must be pretty bad, Tyar figured. People probably aren’t traveling a whole bunch if bad things are happening around the galaxy.

           Still, he couldn’t imagine it being any worse than daily life on Nar Shaddaa. He didn’t feel the same tension on Coruscant, neither within himself nor the other passengers.

            Each of the rooms aboard the smaller transport were identical, built for efficiency and maximizing occupancy rather than the comfort of its occupants. Two columns of seating split the hold into thirds with plenty of space to meander as they endured their travels. A window spanned the entire space on the wall to the left. A few errant passengers looked out it down at the metropolis below, one of them a Zabrak boy who couldn’t have been hardly any older than Tyar himself.

           Tyar hadn’t seen many children since leaving Nar Shaddaa. Even on his home planet he knew very few other children. Dad had always said school would be a waste of time and that he’d enroll him in it once they moved to another planet, and their apartment complex had housed few other families besides their own. Cirak had been the closest person in age that he knew. He felt vaguely intimidated at the prospect of meeting someone close to him in age, but he felt a pull towards the Zabrak, similar to the one he’d felt from Master Valara. With cautious steps Tyar began his approach.

           The Zabrak – an iridonian – turned to face him. Tyar froze, still several steps away, and looked over the boy. Faded outlines of cuts lined his face and neck, the scars mostly healed but still visible. Like all other Zabrak he had horns atop his head, but his were still short, barely grown in. His tunic, of a similar make as the ones Valara wore under her robes, appeared deceptively new in the face of his more weathered physical features. Golden lights from the cityscape below illuminated his face in such a way that it emphasized its damage, and Tyar spotted in his brown eyes subdued caution, confusion.

“You’re like me,” Tyar said.

The Zabrak said nothing at first, his confusion more evident as he narrowed his eyebrows. After another moment his expression softened. “Are you a Jedi?” There was a subtle wonder in his tone.

“No. Are you?”

He shook his head. “I’m being taken to the Temple though. One day I’m going to be. Did a Jedi Master find you too?”

“Master Orgus did. He took me here with his…uh…” the Zabrak boy trailed off and cocked his head. “I think he called him a ‘paddle won.’ His name’s Bengel. He’s nice.” He smiled slightly.

Outside another Republic ship sailed past them. The planetary lights shimmered off the metal and rippled across the boys face, drawing attention to his irregularities again. Tyar regarded the boy’s facial features. “Why’s your face all weird?”

The other boy recoiled, reaching up to gently touch his cheek with his hand. “It’s not weird…” He turned away, obviously hurt by Tyar’s statement.

“I didn’t mean it like it was a bad thing. I’m sorry.” Tyar watched as the other boy’s expression remained cautious, perhaps even a little frightened. Deep down it wasn’t too unlike what Tyar was feeling himself. “Do you like holotoons?”

“I’ve never watched any holotoons.”

“You’ve never watched holotoons?” Tyar couldn’t restrain his shock. “Do you like swoop?”

“I had an old master who raced swoop. Sometimes I would hold lights while people worked on them so they could see.”

Old master? Tyar wondered, and slowly he comprehended what he meant. The scratches and scars on the other boy’s face suddenly made sense. “You were a slave?”

The boy nodded. Tyar knew that a similar fate could’ve befallen him if Cirak hadn’t saved him from the gangs on Nar Shaddaa, even if his older brother had thought he hadn’t realized it. To think that someone actually lived through it, and that he was nearly the same age as him. The times growing up that Tyar played with toys, this boy was probably forced to do hard labor. Pity swelled in Tyar’s chest. In another life their positions could’ve been reversed.

But now they were the same, regardless of circumstance. They would be Jedi, heroes. It couldn’t have been chance that they were both here now, both on their way to Coruscant. If the Force really was in all things like Master Valara said, then maybe it was why they’d met.

After a pause Tyar held out the holomag and turned it on, flipping it to a page on a swoop bike he’d found notable. He approached the boy and handed him the device. “Do you want to look at swoop bikes with me?” The boy stared at him blankly. “You can take it,” Tyar urged.

The Zabrak took the holomag from his hands. His posture loosened, and he smiled again.

“This one’s called the Amzab ZB-2,” Tyar said, “It’s one of the fastest models in racing right now.”

“What kind of repulsor does it run on?”

“I don’t know.”

“They should use an Aratech Whirlwind Y6 model repulsorlift. It has great lift and helps stabilize the bike during acceleration. That’s what my friend taught me. He knew a lot about swoop bikes.” The boy swallowed hard, as though fighting back a lump in his throat. “His name was Jowporin. He died before Master Orgus found me. I think he would’ve liked this bike.”

“My brother and I always wanted to get speeder bikes of our own one day,” Tyar said, “We’d talk about it a lot.” He looked back at the boy. “Do you miss your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“I miss my brother too. His name is Cirak. He knew a lot of stuff about bikes and swoop too.” Tyar paused. “I’m sorry about your friend. Cirak almost died once too, and it made me really sad and scared. Is that how you feel?”

“Master Orgus has been trying to make me feel better, but…I still really miss him.”

Their transport rumbled, and outside the window Coruscant seemed to draw closer. Skyscrapers took shape rather than being a conglomerate of lights and outlines, and though they were as small as flies Tyar thought he could see traffic whirring on busy lanes below. They’d be at the Jedi Temple soon, no doubt.

“If you’d like I can be your new friend,” Tyar said, “We can talk more about speeders and starships and do Jedi stuff and everything. Maybe one day we can even get one.” Before the other boy could respond Tyar shot out his hand. “I’m Tyar. Tyar Kiht.”

The boy glanced between Tyar’s hand and his face. After another pause he shook it. “I’m Eonur.”

Tyar beamed and continued shaking Eonur’s hand. Not knowing if he should let go or not Tyar instead playfully swung their grip side-to-side. He giggled, and Eonur began laughing as well. It was silly, but it was the first time he’d laughed in days.

And for the first time since leaving home Tyar didn’t feel quite so alone.

[badcowboy69]

Unexpected part 4

Gosh, it’s been a REALLY long time for this poor chapter to be coming out.  I have been distracted with many things, good and bad, but it seems as if I’m finally back on track.  Hopefully that means I’ll be able to crank out stories again like I used to.  That being said, this is the latest installment of my little saga.  Hope you like it.  As always comments and asks are welcomed and reblogs are the bests.

Oh and just in case you would like to read the previous chapters if it’s your first time or simply needing a refresher, here’s the links.

Part One     Part Two    Part 3

Story begins under the cut due to the length.  Enjoy!

It was evident Travis could barely contain the excitement that was surging through him.  Giving Riley a crooked grin, he quickly loped back into the bedroom and practically tripped over the doorway threshold.  Picking up on the enthusiasm, Rex bounded eagerly along at his side while yipping and yapping playfully.  “Got an extra wardrobe in here so it’s the perfect place for you to put all your stuff!” Travis called out over the happy, chirpy barks of his cyberdog.

However, Riley had paused his pursuit, suddenly distracted by the trail of discarded clothing scattered along the hallway.  A gentle smile curled his lips as his mind flitted back to last night where a wonderful event started in the elevator then led to the bedroom where it continued for hours.  Even though he was half-serious when mentioning about the fantasy of getting a blowjob inside of an elevator, it came as no surprise that Travis would actually comply.  

While bending to gather up the clothes, Riley happily reminisced about their reunion.  Suddenly, his wonderful recollection was interrupted by a stark naked Travis standing in front of him.  Although he’s seen Travis naked plenty of times, Riley still found his cheeks warm with a blush at the unexpected, but very pleasant sight.  “Hell, Travis, you keep enticing me like this I doubt we’ll be making tracks to the Fort anytime soon,” he jested while adjusting his glasses as his eyes began to wander up and down his boyfriend’s slender frame.

“Huh?  Oh!  Well...maybe...when we get back I can make it all up to you.  I know you can’t resist this bod,”  Travis purred while he ran his hands seductively over his sides only to get shoved playfully by Riley.  “Anyhoo, is everything ok, Riles?  Been talking to you and you ain’t answering.”

“Oh, sorry about that, but yes, that wardrobe sounds great, thank you.  By the way, I can’t seem to find my pack.  I could have sworn we brought it up here with us last night.”

Giving a quick scan around the now cleaned up hall, Travis got a hunch and pushed the call button for the elevator.  The silver doors slid open and there on the floor was not only Riley’s pack and Gauss rifle, but Travis’ own rifle and cowboy hat as well.  “Ah, Hell, looks like someone was in an awful hurry to get out of there to leave all this stuff behind,” Travis jested while he retrieved their items.

Reaching for the weapons, Riley randomly noticed Travis’ motorcycle was leaning close to the wall.  He wondered how he missed it earlier, but there were plenty of other things distracting him since he arrived.  Travis tended to do unusual things from time to time, but having a vehicle in the living quarters seemed a bit out of the ordinary, even for Travis.  “Looks like someone forgot where the parking garage was,” Riley teased back.  

“Ain’t forgot,” the courier replied while rubbing the back of his neck, mild embarrassment in his voice.  “I only got back here a few days ago and was too tired to screw around unpacking downstairs then make like twenty trips back and forth to the elevator.  Figured it was easier to bring the bike up here so’s I could unpack and put stuff away in one shot.  I was planning on taking it back downstairs eventually, but some hot redhead dropping in from Boston sort of interrupted that.  Besides, had too much going on in my mind to really want to deal with chores...or much else.”

“Understandable,”  Riley said softly as he knew exactly what Travis must have gone through.  His own world was quite setback and lost when Travis left Boston only a few weeks ago.  He got through his lonely days by drinking or being with friends, but barely.  

Following Travis into the bedroom, Riley set the weapons against the couch then stood silently in the doorway.  Travis made his way towards a large, dark wood wardrobe to choose an outfit for the day’s outing.  Riley still couldn’t tear his eyes away from admiring the finely shaped, naked form of his partner.  His gaze abruptly halted seeing bright red scratch marks on Travis’ back.  A demure smile curled his lips as memories of last night’s passions flooded his mind and made him long to repeat them soon.

Forcing his eyes to look elsewhere, Riley turned to his left and let out a soft gasp of surprise.  His eyes suddenly widened behind his glasses and he found himself gravitating towards a large bookshelf behind a desk.  He felt an excited jolt go through him while he read aloud the titles of the books.  “Las Vegas: A History. How to Succeed at Hacking.  Cats.  Guns, Your God-given Right.  Building a Robot.  Motorcycle Mechanics.  Sparky and the Flying Securitron.  Texas Red. Damn, Travis, you certainly have quite the mix of genres,” he chuckled as he took out the Vegas book and began flipping through its pristine pages.

“Shucks, got plenty of books in the other rooms and there's a ton more upstairs in the penthouse.”  He snickered hearing the soft gasp escape his partner. “You’ll see everything, don't you worry none about that.  Shit, there’s so much to see in the casino alone to probably last us all day.  Umm...wanna get the ten cent tour of the apartment before we head to the Fort?” “Oh!  Yes, right, the Fort.  As anxious as I am to see your suite, I know you’re in a hurry to head out.  It’s ok, Travis, we can do what you needed first and you can show me around here when we get back.” Riley set the book carefully on the shelf as not to damage the delicate paper dust cover and gave his partner a supportive smile.

“You sure?  I mean I don’t mind showing you around first, but I’ll do whatever you want to do.  This is your vacation after all,” Travis replied while pulling out his traditional red plaid shirt and blue jeans from the wardrobe and tossed them on the bed.  “Besides, I’m only going to the Fort today to drop off my semi-weekly donations and show you around.  Figured I could introduce you to Arcade while we’re there.  It ain’t really crucial we go today.  I can always drop off donations tomorrow.  Ain't like they're expecting me or anything.”

Riley sat on the bed next to his pack and looked up at his broadly smiling lover. “You’re something else, you know that?  Then that settles it.  I’d love to have a quick tour of your place before we leave.”

Travis grinned more and leaned down to deliver a quick kiss on Riley’s cheek. “Great!  Gonna go and get washed up first, though.  Feel free to use the other wardrobe for your stuff if you wanna and make yourself at home.  My casa is your casa,” he declared making Riley chuckle at his attempt of a Spanish phrase.

“It’s me casa es su casa,” he corrected with a gentle smile.  “But thank you just the same.”

As Travis walked out room, Riley caught himself once more staring after the naked vision.  He sighed wistfully and suddenly noticed he was becoming aroused.  Knowing it was best to stifle his urges, at least for now, Riley bit his lower lip and distracted himself by unpacking.  “Well, this won’t take long,” he muttered to himself realizing he had nowhere near as many clothes as he would need for a prolonged stay.  Past experience taught him things could go wrong very quickly with an unexpected visit.  He prepared for the worst, but did hope for the best.  Packing light was a precaution even though deep down he knew wasn’t necessary.  

Gathering up the meager armload of clothes, Riley headed to the wardrobe on the opposite side of the bed.  It was identical as the one Travis was using right down to the almost pristine condition.  Resting atop of it was some sort of helmet with ruby colored eye lenses.  Next to it was a skull from some kind of animal that Riley could only guess was a brahmin.  To his surprise a small Sentry bot action figure he had given Travis back on the day they first met was also there.  A pleasant warmth spread through him as he remembered that day with tender fondness.

Opening the double doors Riley was mildly surprised to find a small assortment of clothes already neatly arranged inside on hangers.  Riley set his things down and curiously began to sift through the impeccable assortment of slacks, polos, and solid colored button down shirts.   He pulled out a baby blue colored polo and absently held it against himself to check the size.

“Don’t mind the clothes.”  Travis had silently padded into the bedroom and was already pulling on his jeans.  “Grabbed ‘em out of the dressers up in the penthouse where Mister House used to live.  I was hoping they’d fit me, but they’re all a bit too big.  If they fit you, you can have them and hell...you can probably have all of what’s still up there.  House sure as hell don't need ‘em.  All sorts of suits and ties and stuff up there ...stuff you would probably really like.”

Grinning broadly Riley turned back to the wardrobe and began examining the garments with more interest.  He put the blue shirt back and pulled out a black polo with a wide green stripe around the middle.  “Travis, these are all in such amazing condition,” Riley said in disbelief.  Taking it off the hanger, Riley pulled the shirt over his head.  Much to his joy it fit him perfectly.  “Travis, this...this is wonderful!  Are you really sure I can have these?” he asked as his partner sauntered up to him.

“A’yup.  What am I gonna do with a bunch of clothes that don’t fit me?  I was originally gonna take them to camps around the Mojave and donate them, but never had the chance.  Reckon it’s a good thing.  Shirt looks really great on you, Riles.  Cain’t wait to see you out of it later either,” Travis purred while nuzzling against the freckled skin of Riley’s neck.  Sliding his arms around Riley’s waist, Travis pressed close to him and sighed.  “I still cain’t believe you’re here and I cain’t wait to get back after the donation run.  Maybe we can take a swim in my pool before heading out for dinner.”

“Swimming and dinner?  Man, Travis, you’re going to spoil me.  You really don’t have to take me anywhere tonight.  In all honesty it might be more enjoyable to stay in and relax with you.  I’m sure there’s plenty here for you to show me,” Riley softly replied as he leaned against his partner with a contented sigh.  “I'm not going anywhere anytime soon and right now I just want to enjoy being back in your company.”

“Whatever you'd like to do is fine with me!  Reckon we’ll play it by ear.”  Travis gave Riley a few tender kisses which quickly became heated.  Fighting his own eager urges Travis reluctantly pulled back.  “We best get going afore I find something better for us to do,” he panted with a smirk.  Riley nodded in agreement and they separated to continue getting dressed.

Afterwards, with his arms open wide and welcoming, Travis walked around the room.  “Well then, as you can see, this here is the master bedroom.  I keep lots of my personal and most treasured things in here.  Ain't all I got, though.”  He then motioned for Riley to follow him and led him towards a room that was between the master bedroom and dining area.

“Reckon this is more my collection and game room.  Got all kinds of cool stuff I found in my travels,” he proudly announced while placing his hands on his hips.

Riley slowly wandered around the room which was considerably larger than the master bedroom.  In the center of the room was a pool table with way too many balls scattered on top of it.  A Sunset Sarsaparilla soda vending machine was against one wall next to an almost perfect Nuka Cola machine.  Next to those was a fantastic jukebox, it’s glowing colored lights and bubbles instantly drew Riley to it.  As he flipped through the selection markers he asked,”Does this thing really have these tunes and does it really work?”

Travis couldn’t help but give a toothy grin.  “A’yup!  Sure does!  Hell, pick a song and push the button, I sure don’t mind.  I really lucked out with this find up in Black Mountain.  They got a big storage building that was untouched in probably forever ‘cause of the Super Mutants that used to guard the place.  Plus there's a buttload of radiation there that'll get ya if precautions ain't took.  Gotta tell you that story someday.”

Arching an eyebrow, Riley picked a random song by Frank Sinatra and pressed the white button.  The machine made a series of clicks and other sounds while Riley watched in anticipation as the record he chose moved into place and the player’s arm dropped down onto it.  After a few pops and static sounds, All of Me began to play much to Riley’s delight.  Overcome with the pure joy of hearing a long forgotten song again, Riley pulled Travis into his arms and did a quick, impromptu dance with him around the room.  

Seeing the two humans engaged in what he thought looked like fun, Rex began to loudly bark and jump up and down vying for their attention hoping they’d dance with him too.  Travis began to laugh at his cyberdog’s antics as well as the handsome redhead’s sudden burst of enthusiasm.  

Riley stole a quick kiss and released Travis with a laugh.  “Shit, it’s been far too long since I’ve heard that song!  Oh, Travis…” he sighed and trailed off realizing that he danced them all the way to the other end of the room.  Adjusting his glasses, Riley gave Travis a wink and directed his gaze towards the tall shelf unit that seemed to be screaming for his attention.

On each shelf was a different sort of collection all neatly arranged to show off each coveted piece.  Much to Riley’s delight, one shelf was dedicated to more books.  These ones all were various novels, mostly westerns and science fiction.  Knowing he’d have a chance to look over them more thoroughly later, he bypassed them, setting his sights on a different shelf.  

The bottom most one had a selection of pre-war toys.  There was a baseball and glove, a few tin cars, a checkerboard, and a few different style teddy bears and dolls.  Most of the toys were in pretty rough condition, but they were still in great shape considering their age.  Riley spotted a baseball bat and golf club leaning against the shelf as well as what appeared to be a half of a bowling ball.  It was a perfect, smooth cut and Riley made a mental note to ask Travis how it got that way at another time.

Right now he was distracted by what dominated over two of the remaining shelves.  Travis loved collecting Nuka Cola merchandise and had voiced that quite often while he was in Boston.  One shelf was glowing brightly with a variety of Quartz and Quantum while the other shelf had bottles of Victory.  Riley looked them over and gave a low whistle.  “Looks like you’ve been rather busy scouring the Mojave to get this kind of collection,” he commented while picking up a small sheriff badge made out of tin.  “Now I understand why you were so excited to get those rocket shaped bottles in Boston.”

Travis grinned while crossing his arms in front of his chest, obviously proud of his little collection.  “A’yup.  I still got them in the bedroom, though.  Like I said I wasn’t too keen on unpacking when I got back the other day.  Maybe I’ll put them up later tonight.” “Glad to see they’ve gone to a good home,” Riley chuckled as he carefully picked up a large, metal toy Nuka Cola delivery truck complete with tiny soda bottles.  “Man, this stuff is amazing!  I know a few people back east who would be rather envious of your collection.  Maybe not so much the bottles, but these cool premiums like your trucks and pin-up girl figures would really drive folks wild to possess.”

“I’m sure this ain’t nothing compared to what I heard some people got, but considering Sunset Sarsaparilla is the dominate drink out this way I am pretty lucky I got what I got,” Travis replied while pulling a small chain hanging from a neon Nuka sign that looked like he ripped it directly off a store front.  The glass tubes flickered a few times before lighting completely.  “Got this at a pawn shop in Freeside a while back.  It was tucked behind some old washing machines, but I somehow spotted it.  Traded for a few shot guns and ammo.  The owner thought I was nuts, but I had to have it.  Didn’t work, but I talked to a buddy of mine and he helped me get what I needed to get it to light up.  I think it’s my fave of all my collection, well, besides the glowy bottles.”

“It’s really something else, Travis.  I can’t wait to hear some of the stories behind your collections.”  Giving the shelf a final look and making sure nothing was on the floor for him to accidentally step on, Riley wandered towards a marvelous display unit near the room’s door.  It was similar to something one would find in a gift shop as it showcased all kinds of snow globes.  They all featured Vault Boy in some sort of scene depicting where the globes might have originated from. “Hoover Dam, Goodsprings, The New Vegas Strip....how did you even come across these?” Riley asked while picking one up and giving it a shake, amused at the white plastic flakes inside the water swirling about like a mini snowstorm.

“Eh, some were actually in this place and a few came from general stores out and about.  Got some from Vault 21 as well.  You might like that place a lot. Used to be a real pre-war vault, but it's a hotel and small casino now.  It’s all set up to what I think your time might have looked like.  They’re really big on that nostalgia!  They even got tons of pre-war stuff stored in a few of the rooms.  I've done a lot of trading with the folks there for a few things I liked.  The manager wanted any Vault suits I might find in my travels.  I found lots and exchanged them for some of the metal signs I got hanging around here and other parts of my casino.”

“Sounds like an extremely good system you got going.  Bartering is so much better than using caps I think.”

“Okies I got one last room to show you then we can get a move on to the Fort!” Taking Riley by the hand, Travis eagerly led him down the hall and to the room across from the bathroom.  “I don’t give this room much mind, but I reckon it has its uses.”  

The room was obviously once a guest bedroom with two neatly made full sized beds complete with satin sheets, comforters and throw pillows.  One even had a few teddy bears resting on it.  However, that’s where the bedroom look stopped and instead seemed more like a storage area.   A makeshift gun rack was against the wall with about ten metal ammo boxes stacked next to it.  The rack had everything ranging from shotguns to rifles of all different calibers.  A small footlocker rested next to the rack, its lid open, revealing the contents of various explosives like mines and hand grenades.  

Riley smirked at the small arsenal and shook his head surprised there wasn’t more.  “Your supply of these are a little low,” he jested while giving a nod to the explosives.

“Nah, got more down in my workshop.  Didn’t want to keep that kind of stuff up here in big piles, you know?”  Travis casually replied as he bent to pick up some casings that were scattered on the floor and tossed them in one of the ammo boxes.

“Yes, that uhhh... makes sense.” Riley paled, suddenly feeling nervous thinking of the entire casino blowing up because of of Travis’ passion for explosives and fires.  

A few metal cases stacked against the wall housed flamethrowers as well as a grenade launcher.  The weapons looked like they were used quite often and Riley could only imagine the mischief his partner got into with them.  Riley was thankful not seeing anything that launched mini nukes or the like.  Even Travis must have his limits when it came to destruction.  

However, there was one weapon that got Riley’s curiosity and he tugged at Travis’ sleeve to get his attention.  “What in the world is that thing?” he asked, pointing to what looked like a motorcycle gas tank with an iron sword attached to it by a cable.

Travis twitched his moustache and grinned broadly while picking up the sword. “This is what’s called a shishkebab.  One of my fave pyro weapons.  The sword flames up.  I’ll have to take you out later and show you it in action!  Some of the trees out in the desert are dry as dust and man you should see them burn up when I slash ‘em with this!”

Riley inwardly groaned seeing Travis’ crystal blue eyes light up with excitement while showing off the sword.  “I’d love to see, as long as you are careful.  I’m sure more than just trees catch fire easily here.” “Oh man, you ain’t kidding!” Travis excitedly responded while putting the shishkebab back down and went back to his task of picking up the casings.  He heard a soft groan come from his partner over his comment and he quickly added, “But don’t worry, I only set shit on fire in secluded areas where they won’t go out of control and cause more trouble.”

“Great,” Riley grunted as he glanced at the single wardrobe in the room.  Its door was ajar revealing some articles of clothing that looked like military uniforms and dusters.  More guns were leaning against the furniture along with more ammo boxes.  Off in a far corner of the room was a small metal platform and on it Travis’ robot ED-E was resting on it.  No doubt it was a charging station of sorts.  

However, like in the previous rooms, what really captured Riley’s attention was yet another large bookshelf stocked not only with books, but interesting items such as a space helmet, globe of the world, and what appeared to be some kind of blaster from a science fiction movie.  

“Interesting choice of books you have here, Travis.  I didn’t expect you to read these sort of things,” the redhead remarked as he looked over the book titles that ranged from business operations and government to mathematics and science.

Travis snorted and shook his head.  “Nah, ain’t read those.  I glanced through them and they’re boring and filled with words I can’t even understand.  Some got nice pictures at least.  I  got them there for looks and maybe give to someone if they’re interested.  Hell, if you like them by all means please read them”

“I was anticipating some history books, actually.  Do you have any of those?” Riley asked hopefully as he carefully flipped through the pages of an astronomy book, marveling at how bright and crisp the photos inside were after all the centuries.

“Oh, sure!  Got plenty of those upstairs in the penthouse!”  Travis couldn’t help but laugh seeing Riley’s face light up hearing the news about history books. Slipping his arms around Riley’s waist, Travis leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “Trust me, Riles, my apartment is only the beginning of shit for you to see in this place.  Anyways, was this a good enough tour for now?  You ready to mosey on outta here?”

“Yes, the tour was perfect and I look forward to exploring and experiencing it more as the days go by.  Thank you, Travis.”

“Great!  Let’s make tracks then!”  Stealing another quick kiss, Travis entwined their fingers together and briskly led him towards the elevator.  “Gotta stop and pick up some supplies for the Fort first.  Can't exactly make a donation run without donations.”

Right as the metal doors began to slide shut, Rex decided at the last moment to join the couple.  He gave a startled yelp as the doors closed, barely touching him.  “Dumb dog!”  Travis groaned as the doors re-opened to allow the cyberdog entry.  “Hit the button with a T,” Travis directed to Riley while he pushed his dog into the back of the elevator and out of the way.

Riley searched over the panel of buttons and realized the vast majority of them weren’t numbered properly or numbers for that matter.  Furrowing his brow as he looked for the T button, he asked, “Ummm...Travis, what’s with these numbers and...letters?  They’re all so... randomly placed.”

“Well, it helps make things easier to remember where things are.  Six is me, so my suite’s button is six as you found out last night.  C is for casino.  P is for Penthouse.  L is for Lounge.  T is for Treasure.  W is for workroom.  B is for basement.  S is for Sub Basement…”

“Ok Ok I get it,” Riley chuckled and pushed the T button.  “It’s a good method as long as you understand it.  Do you do anything with the other floors not designated to a specific number or letter?”

“Nothing really.  They’re there for whatever.  Storage I reckon.  All still got nice beds, sheets, furniture, clothes...almost like Mister House had this place gussied up and evacuated afore the bombs hit.  It's also why I have an endless supply of sheets and clothes...got lots of liquor too,” he snickered.

“Sounds perfect,” Riley grinned.  “I can’t wait to see all of your special floors, but this one we’re going to...T for Treasure, really sounds interesting.” “Ain’t no big deal for me, but for the folks I help out...well...you’ll see.  Used to be one of the business suites or some shit,” Travis said with a dismissive shrug right as the elevator came to a halt at its designated floor.

The doors slid open and an over enthused cyberdog bolted out.  “Ain’t never seen him this excited, but I reckon he’s picking up on my feelings,” Travis drawled as he followed the dog leaving Riley to stand blushing in the elevator over Travis’ compliment.  Realizing Riley wasn’t at his side, Travis halted and turned around.  “You coming?”

Riley cleared his throat and nodded.  “Yes, yes of course.”  He stepped out of the elevator and gazed up and down the hallway.  The carpet had a checkered pattern of different shades of reds and still looked as it might have 200 years ago.  Various pictures were on the wall showcasing scenes of the pre-war New Vegas and Mojave areas.  Other than that the hall was completely barren and disinteresting.  One lone door was at the far end to their right and that was where Travis was headed.  

“Got all sorts of crap in this place,” Travis casually remarked while they walked.  “Plus during my travels I find lots of stuff and salvage it.  Been in this place almost seven years and pretty much went through all the floors.  I gathered up certain things and organized them for later distribution.  I sure don’t need it, but plenty of folks out there do.”

Opening the door, Travis beckoned for Riley to follow him inside.  Entering the suite Riley was taken aback by what he saw.  The entire suite reminded him of what pre-war shopping mega-centers or warehouse type of stores looked like.  Tall metal and wooden racks lined the walls stocked with various goods while large boxes were on the floor and filled with things too bulky to store on shelves.  

As Riley gazed around the room he eventually realized that everything was sorted and organized according to purpose.  One shelf had small boxes filled with syringes with labels marked stimpack or med-x.  Piles of rad-away along with bottles of rad-x occupied another shelf.  Piles of crutches and canes were stacked in a corner, propped against the shelf.  Boxes of gauze and bandages were lined on the bottom shelf according to size.  Various other medical supplies were scattered on a wooden table where some brown doctor bags were resting.  

Where the medical supplies ended, linens began.  Riley wasn’t sure how many or what size, but there was plenty of nicely folded bedding materials stacked neatly on their shelf.  Stacks of towels were also on the shelf along with what looked like cloth napkins and tablecloths.  After that a row of boxes filled with teddy bears, dolls, cars, and other various toys were set on the floor in front of the shelf.  A smaller display case, almost similar to the one Travis had his snow globes on, had a variety of carved wooden figures.

The remaining shelves were stocked with varieties of food preserved in jars as well as candles, ropes, lighters, electronic parts, and many other things.  All necessary supplies, but not so vast where they needed their own separate area.  Three large wardrobes with their doors removed were also lined against the wall.  Inside were various clothes for men, women, and children, but it looked as though those supplies were rapidly being depleted.  

Giving out a low whistle, Riley slowly browsed through the supplies, amazed how much was actually gathered here.  “You have quite the hoard, Travis.  Are you sure you aren’t secretly a dragon with all this wonderful treasure?” Travis snorted as he grabbed a brown medical bag and began hastily stuffing random supplies into it.  “Ain’t no hoarder...but what’s a dragon?” he asked, suddenly pausing from his task, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy.

“Well...a dragon is a mythical beast that was found in many cultures around the world.  Generally they were depicted as a large lizard or reptile, usually with wings, and quite often were known to have vast hoards of treasure like gems and gold.  It also wasn’t uncommon for them to breathe fire.”

“Oh!  We got dragons here in the Mojave then!” Travis exclaimed excitedly and turned to face Riley, his blue eyes shining.  “We call them Fire Geckos, though.  They’re about as tall as you and they breathe fire!  No wings, though, but they do run awfully fast.  I wonder if they have treasures?”

Riley paled slightly hearing about the beasts and frowned as his body instinctively tensed over Travis’ last remark.  “Please don’t tell me you want to go finding that out?”

“Nah, I don’t make a point out of going after critters for no reason other than for food.  If we happen to find them and they attack, yeah, different story.  Don’t worry, your man ain’t no ruthless killer bent on mowing anything down that moves especially over material goods.”

“This I know,” Riley gently replied as he stepped over to Travis, watching him gather supplies.  “Honestly, I’m surprised you even still have this big of an inventory.  I mean, I wouldn’t think there’d be so much good and salvageable stuff out there in the wastes.  I also would think you’d run out of supplies in time, especially since you’ve been doing things for what...like...seven years now you said?”

“Yeah, everything’s pretty much picked over in the Mojave,” Travis said with a dismissive shrug.  “But shit’s never-ending for the most part here in the casino.  I also don’t send out donations every day or even every week.  If I didn’t ration things I’d run out of supplies right quick and then probably’ll get bitched at for not helping anymore.  It’s so stupid that the folks you sometimes help take advantage of ya or ain’t thankful for what ya do give them and they want more.”  Travis snorted as if remembering such a case while he began to add empty syringes inside of the bag. Riley smirked knowing about thankless individuals all to well.  He witnessed first hand and personally experienced that behavior many, many times in Boston where the more help you offer to people the more that is demanded.  You would think people would be more grateful especially in these hard times.  He sighed and gave Travis a pat on the shoulder.  “You’re a good guy, Travis.  Do you need any help packing supplies?” “Sure,” Travis replied as he began gathering up a few handfuls of bandages.  “Grab an empty sack and round up five teddy bears, some cars and dolls, and maybe a few of the wooden animal carvings.  Might as well give the younger residents at the Fort something during this visit.”

Nodding, Riley walked over to the toy area and began filling the sack with Travis’ request.  “Did you make these figures by any chance?” he asked seeming to recall a time when Travis mentioned he liked to carve things in his spare time.  The wooden carvings were very well made and he was impressed with the variety of dogs, yao guai, and deathclaws as well as some animals he didn’t recognize, but figured they were typical to the Mojave.

“Yeah,” Travis replied as he shoved a final handful of Rad-X in the bag and zipped it up.  “One of the little talents I discovered I had a few years ago.  Don’t know where it came from, but I reckon it’s probably some kind of long forgotten memory.”

Riley nodded solemnly while he looked over a carving of a deathclaw which was quite different in looks compared to what was in Boston.  He remembered Travis talking about the differences, but that didn’t make the beasts any less threatening.  Putting the figure in the bag, Riley began to meander around the suite amazed at Travis’ accomplishment.  “It’s nice to see you also have books to offer to people,” he commented while looking over a small selection of literature lined neatly on a shelf.  “I’m glad to see that you pass out written works like this.  Some of these sound pretty interesting and I might have to borrow some one day.”

“You keep finding the books, don’t ‘cha?”  Travis snickered as he closed up the medical bag and made his way towards the door to leave.  “The Boomers really like books.  They can be next on the donation drop-off list if you’d wanna pay them a visit with me.  Gotta take the motorcycle, though.  It’s a ways off past Hoover Dam.”

“The Boomers, eh?  I seem to recall you mentioning them.  They’re the folks with the functioning war planes, right?”  Riley asked as hoisted the bag full of toys over his shoulder and joined Travis and who were waiting patiently in the doorway.

“Yeah, they’re really self-sufficient and got crops and stuff.  I usually only take them things like scrap and weapons, but they also really like tech books.  Maybe when we go I can convince them to take us for a ride in the B-29 they got.  Barter with ‘em...books for a bomber ride.  Maybe they can fly us to that Mile High Club you mentioned last night if it ain’t too far.  I know I’d sure love to check it out if you remember how to get there.”

Bending to set the bag down on the floor of the elevator, Riley paused hearing what Travis said and bit his lower lip as he felt his cheeks warm with a blush.  “Umm...well...that might not be the best thing to ask them, babe.  You see, it’s kind of like a private club.  I’ll explain it all to you on the way down to the casino,” Riley said with an alluring tone to his voice and gave a wink as the elevator doors slid shut.

To be continued...

[spnfanficpond]

November 2018 Pond LiveChat Recap

We had a great time chatting with Rhi, @kittenofdoomage!!! Thank you so much for joining us!

We talked about getting readers, interacting with readers, and how Tumblr has made it more and more difficult with their changes for new writers to get noticed. Details from our discussion with Rhi under the cut, as well as notes on what we’re working on in the Pond!

Q: Do you wait until you are done writing a series before you begin posting, or do you post as you write?

I wait until I'm done writing a series. At some point, the idea will catch me and I have to write the entire thing, which will take about three days. Editing for another 1-2 depending on my betas and then it gets released in its entirety on Patreon (my patrons like reading the entire fic in one go, they're paying for it so I'm not gonna make 'em wait) and comes out in chapters on Tumblr about three-four weeks later. I hate feeling like I'm making people wait too long and then shit happens like it did with three of my permanently hiatused fics.

Q: Well, as for why we're here, Rhi, you get so many asks every day. How do you have such involved readers?

A lot of my readers who respond are regulars. I have those who pop up with the odd "this is awesome" and those who will write long involved reviews which I love!

Q: Do you think there's anything in particular that you do that encourages people to interact with you?

Yeah, I'm open with people and pretty approachable. I like discussing things, plot points, characters, anything really. There are very few things that trigger me, too. I have only three specific things that will turn me away from a fic. I think my lack of triggers helps with people who need someone like that to talk to.

Q: Do you ever ask around and try to figure out what people are looking to read to try and help boost your reader count or do you just draw inspiration from your own ideas?

At the moment, I'm mostly working on commissions, so it's other people's ideas. I'm lucky that most of my Patrons and commissioners are very patient with me and know up front that I have no specific time limits. I will write it but I can't force it. And I won't force it because that leaves everyone with a shit story.I never put an idea away forever though. I write them all down. If inspiration hits for something, I write it there and then because I never know if I'll get that mojo back.

Q: Has there ever been an Idea that has caught you by surprise when you start it as one thing but it ends up as something else?

Only about six thousand times.

Over The Hills And Far Away that I'm writing now, was supposed to only be a Dean x reader but my reader decided to go and have chemistry with Sam too.

Q: Have you noticed a bump in followers after you do anything specific?

I always have a bump in followers after Sinful Sunday. Unfortunately, I always end up with a bump in unsolicited dick pics and porn bots, too, so a purge usually follows. When I post new characters or fandoms, too. I've recently picked up a bunch of Marvel followers.

Q: As a big blog, you must also get some hate. How do you deal with that?

They don't like me because I play with them and their insults are like water off a duck's back with me. Unless they bring my kid into it. I shut an entire set of blogs down when that happened. That's also why I no longer post anything to do with my daughter. I will avoid using her name wherever possible. If I'm in a bad mood, I ignore it. If I'm feeling like an utter bitch, I'll tear them a new asshole.

Q: Rhi, it sounds like you have a lot on your plate with family, work, and writing.  Is there anything in particular that keeps your creativity flowing so you don't burn out?

I try and do something different every day. Painting, gaming, going for a walk - it's important for me not to spend all my time on one thing. Even if it's just cleaning. I also listen to a lot of music - Classic Rock on Absolute Radio is my fav. Actually, my favorite time to think about fics is when I'm about to go to sleep.

Q: I'm not sure how to even ask this, but I came into the spn fic fandom a little late and so I'm finding it difficult to gather new followers. Do you have any advice? I have a master post with the few pieces I've written but I've gotten a lot of flack for writing OCs...

Tumblr is not helping with regards to gaining new followers lately. Tags aren't working if you're an NSFW blog, no one can search anything. The only thing I can suggest is reblogging, asking other authors if they'll read your work.

[Other suggestions from the chat included submitting fics to @dirtysupernaturalimagines and the Pond, joining other people’s writing challenges (The Pond’s S14 Challenge is here, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing is always running challenges, and @mrswhozeewhatsis has a tag #writing challenge on her blog). Also, “Tumblr loves porn” and the fandom loves Dean, in particular, so writing more Dean smut will get you more readers. Just adding “Dean x Reader” to the tags, even if the relationship is barely mentioned, will get you more readers. Sam will get you the same result, but to a lesser extent. Rhi got bigger writing ABO fics, and carved out a niche for herself with them to the point she’s considered the ABO expert in reader insert fics. Another tip was to strip OC’s of names and defining physical features, since OC’s don’t get a lot of love. Many “Y/N”’s are actually just OC’s without a name. Also, if you’re writing a story that will eventually have smut, list “eventual smut” in the tags.]

Q: Random question:  a bunch of us smaller blogs have noticed a drop in reblogs over the last year or so, and I'd be curious to know if, as a bigger blog, you've seen anything like this as well?

Absolutely. A year ago I was getting about 10-20k notes a day. Now, if I hit a thousand, it's a good day and I'm expecting to take a massive hit because of Sinful Sunday, if they don't entirely delete my blog.

Q: Does anyone have any idea why the notes have all dropped so much?  Is it a glitch in notes?  People being more apprehensive to reblog nsfw things because of all the nsfw fear going on?

Community responses: The posts with outside links not showing up in searches is related to bots and porn blogs that only reblog posts to add a link to a sketchy outside web page. Several months ago, though, Tumblr started the “best stuff first” algorithm (which can be turned off in your dashboard settings, but not everyone knows this), and that pushed posts with few notes to the bottom of the dashboard feed. Since you never really get to the bottom, those posts never get seen. Tags and reblogs to build up note counts are the only way to combat this. Now, messing with the search functions means that there will be no new readers without blogs that just reblog fics, like the Pond and @dirtysupernaturalimagines and such.

[Editor’s Note: Rhi told us she’s working on a UPS Driver!Sam fic!! I’m excited. “What can Brown do for me?” YES, PLEASE!]

What’s coming up in the Pond:

Angel Fish Award nominations are due by the end of the month, so you have less than a week to submit yours and gain an entry for every nomination into the raffle! Win fabulous prizes just for spreading love! HOW COOL IS THAT? (Also, don’t forget to submit your own fics to the Pond so that other Pond members can easily find them and nominate them!)

Note: Please use the submission form to submit nominations. Asks do not allow you to include a link to the fic, and sometimes we can’t find what you’re nominating, especially now that Tumblr searches don’t work.

Design contest to find a Pond graphic! Entries are due by the end of the month, so less than a week away! So far, we have ONE (1) entry! (I mean, it’s a pretty fabulous entry, but still!) Winner gets their choice of swag with their design on it!!

SPNFanFicPond Season 14 Weekly Episode Writing Challenge - Since we didn’t have a new episode this past Thursday, the previous week’s challenge is still collecting submissions. (Honestly, there’s no deadline on any of them. Post a fic using a prompt from any week, and you’ll still be added to the masterpost and reblogged on the Pond blog.)

New Member Spotlight Post coming soon! Check out last month’s post here!

Still accepting additions and discussion about the Warning Tag List (tags to be used to assist folks in avoiding triggers and protect their mental health, not be confused with tags to help people find or avoid preferences). Reply or reblog the post itself, or send an ask to the Pond with suggestions!

Plans are in the works to try and make the blog more app-friendly. Please be patient with us in the meantime!

Plans to expand the beta program to make it easier to find the type of beta you need are also on the to-do list.

Housekeeping Note: If you send an ask to the Pond and do not get a response in a couple of days, please notify one of the admins (Michelle - @mrswhozeewhatsis, Mana - @manawhaat, or Kale - @aprofoundbondwithdean) via IM and let us know!

Thanks to everyone who joined us this month and made it an awesome conversation!! Can’t wait for next month!

Next month’s discussion: Giving feedback to other writers and how a beta reader can help your writing! Joining us will be @littlegreenplasticsoldier!

Be there Dec. 15th at the usual time!  (Los Angeles - 2PM, New York - 5PM, London - 10PM, Melbourne - Sunday 9AM)

[yoosungiib]

rfa headcanons for a mc that is very clumsy? thank you, i love your writing! 💘

Thank you so much, sweetheart! I’m so glad you enjoy my writing! Thank you for being so patient and I hope you enjoy this. <3

RFA reacting to MC who is very clumsy

~~~

★ Yoosung ★

Yoosung is always worried about your safety - especially when he is not with you. He’ll be in class, wondering and praying that you’ve not tripped down the stairs or anything,

And hoping that you atleast tied your shoelaces today to not add to any accidents.

Your clumsiness is something you’re used to, so it’s not much of a shock to you that you’ve managed to trip over nothing, or bang into something that was clearly in front of you.

But Yoosung is a little more than s h o o k after the first few times you’ve tripped, and even sometimes having banged your nose, or knee, and having become injured. He really worries that one day you’re just going to trip over a stone and crack your head open or something - or worse, he’ll be the one to have to stitch it up or fix it considering he’s the one with a medical license If he’s graduated from college at this point

Will always catch you when you fall; “MC? Are you ok? Please, cutie, you need to be more careful~”

You fall up the stairs, fall down the stairs,

Yoosung freaks out, you just giggle and rub the bump on your head stating, “I’m fine, Yoosung!” He’s still going to check you for a concussion.

♪ Zen ♪

He finds your clumsiness to be really adorable, however, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t find it to be concerning either. Oh no, though he loves to swoon over the cute, “Oopsie!”’s you’ll say after you trip and bang into something, but on the inside he’s freaking out, worrying that one day you won’t be able to shake it off with an oopsie!

If he sees you are about to fall, he’ll drop literally everything and sprint to your side to grab you and steady you. He’ll check you over, make sure there are no bruises or marks - he’ll do that even if you haven’t hit the ground.

When walking, he likes to always hold your hand beast was unleashed a long time ago, he can do it now not just to be affectionate to keep a hold on you in case you stumble. 

One of the most terrifying experiences of his life was when you fell headfirst down the stairs, not really watching where you were going, and hitting your hair against the railing. 

This boy was screaming, and Zen never screams unless it’s for a show. He was running down after you, nearly tripping and falling himself, and he was grabbing you and pulling you into his arms when he got to the bottom. There was a small cut, yet a lot of blood was pooling through and down your head. 

Though he was crying, you were well and conscience, and you were laughing a little, assuring him that you were fine. Of course, he still took you to the ER to make sure you were not concussed and you didn’t need stitches.

❀ Jaehee ❀

Probably has the least patience for your clumsiness, only because it can be a little frustrating to see you always tripping over your feet and having to catch you .
Even with that being said, she’ll never make you feel bad for being clumsy, and she’ll never tease you, that’s for sure. She’ll just maybe lightly indicate that it can be… troublesome.

Working with you at the cafe is a huge problem too, to be honest, since you are always dropping stuff and banging into tables. Admittedly she got really frustrated with you one time where constantly, table after table, you were bumping into it and having to fix the arrangement on top, so she just snapped at you and told you to go upstairs, out of the way. 
She felt terrible afterwards and of course apologized, but expressed to you how frustrating it can be. You tell her, “I’ll try to not be clumsy, I promise, Jaehee! Thank you for being patient with me.” But Jaehee knows that it is not that simple, and will not hold you to it. 

Whenever walking, always likes to have her arm hook with yours so she can pull you back up or stop you from falling to the ground. 

Sometimes follows you around the house to make sure you don’t bang into anything or trip over your feet, smacking your head.

☂ Jumin ☂

Really, really concerned, and seriously at first things that there is something medically wrong with you and that is why you are so clumsy. When he finds out… it is really just clumsiness, he becomes more overprotective then he already was, and has guards following your every move when he is not there,

Ready to catch you if you happen to fall in front of them. They practically cage you in, and you’ve complained numerous times that it only makes it the more difficult to walk since you can barely move your legs a foot over.

“I am doing this for your good, darling. I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself.”


“I… I understand that, Jumin. But don’t you think having a guard follow me to the bathroom is a little much? Just to make sure I don’t trip, or if I hurt myself in the bathroom, they’ll be able to get in immediately?”


In Jumin’s defense, this happened once where you tripped in the bathroom and fell into the large tub. If you ever want a good example of a frazzled Jumin, think back to then and him banging himself against the door repetitively, screaming for the guards to help him. Humorously, you were fine, and just had a small scratch on your head. He did not appreciate you laughing at him though and claiming he overreacted. 

Does not like you wearing long dresses - of course will never stop you, but always brings up the argument that it is a safety hazard for you, and heightens the chances of you tripping and getting hurt.

Is always moving things out of the way for you, or has a set of guards that stand in front of you guys, pushing things out of the way.

Has an arm wrapped around you at all times, keeping you up and flushed against him, so if you do fall, you are falling onto him and he can cushion the fall somewhat.

☺ Seven/Saeyoung ☺

It is no surprise that Seven teases you to no end for how clumsy you are. Even with that being said, he still gets incredibly concerned and worried for your safety.

When he discovers your extreme clumsiness, adds extra cameras in the bunker so he can watch over literally your every move, and if he happens to see you fall, he can run right to you.

Always jokes about needing to wrap you up in bubble wrap. Once bought a huge sheet and made you a “Bubble Tortilla.” You were not that amused with it, but he was laughing his ass off. 

Tries to make crazy inventions that can help you from tripping or banging into something; example, he gave you a sensor shaped like a cat that you can attach to your pants, and will light up and start speaking if you are too close to something. He also got one of those moving chairs to bring you up and down the stairs, since he says,

“I’m sorry my little honey bunches, but I can not trust you to walk up and down the stairs all by yourself. What if you crack that pretty little head of yours open? It’s not like you almost haven’t before.” 

Saeran also really loves the chair - he finds it to be fun, surprisingly.

While he can tease you about his clumsiness, no one else can, and whenever Vanderwood, an RFA member, or even his brother says something about your clumsiness, he’ll throw himself on the ground literally, exaggerates a trip or jumps up and just flops on the ground and proclaim that he’s more clumsy, so they should tease him instead. 

Or if it’s someone you don’t even know; say you bump into something at the shopping market, and a bystander makes a snide comment - he’ll do more than throw himself on the ground. He’ll throw himself on them and start shouting, “Oops! I’m sorry, I just tripped over my feet, clumsy me.” 

He truly is your Defender of Justice~

~~~

Requests are closed right now, but to find rules of requests you can check out my masterlist page!A coffee please? ;) ~ Support Me HereReblogs and comments appreciated!! ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡