#Mobile Tags! SEASON 2 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doctorbitchcrxft · 5 months ago

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Provenance | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y

Word Count: 6703

A/N: Taglist will be closing at the start of season 2! if you aren't currently tagged, and you'd like to join, please please let me know within the next two posts!!

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You gripped your beer tightly watching Dean getting a girl’s number across the bar from you.

“(Y/N), if you hold that thing any tighter, you’re gonna break it,” Sam snorted. “What’s your deal?”

You looked back at Sam but were unable to pull your eyes from Dean and his new “friend” for longer than a few seconds. “Nothing.” You took a swig of your drink.

“Are you sure you don’t know how you feel about Dean?” the brunet taunted.

You shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

He snickered in response and returned to looking over the papers in front of him.

You waved Dean over, who held a hand up behind the woman’s back to get you to wait. You gestured again and his smile dropped. He said something to her quickly before making his way back over to you.

“I think we got something,” Sam told his brother.

Dean grinned over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave; just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one.”

You rolled your eyes. “So, what are we today, Dean? Rock stars, army rangers?”

“Reality TV scouts,” he grinned at you, ignoring the bite in your voice. “Looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right?”

“If by ‘not far off’ you mean ‘completely off the mark,’ then you’re spot on,” you deadpanned.

Dean shot you a look while he turned to his brother. “By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?”

“Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates,” Sam responded to his question.

“Yeah, you can, but you don't.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. What you got?”

“Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all—” He trailed off as his brother looked back at the women at the bar.

“Dean!” you snapped your fingers at him.

He turned back. “Huh, what?”

“No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside,” Sam continued.

“Could just be a garden variety murder, you know, not our department,” Dean answered.

“No. Dad says different.”

“What do you mean?” Dean’s interest was piqued at the mention of his dad.

You pointed at the map. “John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second, right here in 1945, and the third in 1970. Same M.O. as the Telescas. Throats slit, doors locked from the inside; the whole nine. Now, so much time passed that nobody checked the pattern. Except for your dad. It’s frustrating how much better he is at this than me sometimes,” you muttered at the end of your sentence.

“Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up ‘til first thing though right?” Dean asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“Good.” Before you could stop him, Dean was off to the two women again.

You were fuming; staring daggers at him and downing the rest of your drink.

Sam snickered at you. “Let’s get you out of here before you end up killing one of those girls.”

“Nah, I’d kill your brother. They didn’t do anything wrong,” you responded, helping Sam pick up the papers scattered about the table. “How ‘bout the Telescas’ house?” you asked.

***

You and Sam headed back to the motel you were staying in to research the history of the Telescas’ home. You sprawled out across Dean’s bed with your laptop, and Sam sat on his bed with his laptop.

“Finding anything?” you asked him.

“Nope. You?”

You shook your head. “Nada.”

He shut his laptop. “So? You wanna talk about it?”

You shut yours, too. “About what?”

“Dean?”

“Oh, hell no,” you snorted.

“You two are made for each other,” he deadpanned at your boxed-up emotions.

“Fuck off, Sam,” you retorted. “What about you? Still not ready to jump back into the dating pool?” You snuggled into the blankets on Dean’s bed, reveling in his scent emanating off them.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What was she like?” you asked after a moment.

“Who?”

“Jessica. You never told me much about her.”

He sighed. “She was just… the best, man. You two would’ve gotten along great, honestly. She was—” he grinned sadly at the thought of her, “—so smart. So beautiful. Quick, witty, and…” he shook his head. “I was looking for wedding rings. Few weeks before she...”

You smiled sadly at him. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was,” he responded. A quiet settled over the room.

“Don’t you think she would’ve wanted you to be… I don’t know, happy? Do you think she’d want you to move on? It’s been almost a year,” you said. “Jesus, I’ve known you guys for almost a year now," you realized.

He chuckled before going quiet again momentarily. “I think she would. But Jess… I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully over her. She was my best friend, y’know?”

You nodded. “I get it. I’m glad you had that with her, though. Sounds like you really loved each other.”

“We did.”

You and Sam went silent once more, and you succumbed to the tiredness of your limbs and mind. You were so comforted by the scent of worn leather, Dean’s cologne, and whiskey, that you slept better than you had in years.

***

When you woke up the next morning, Sam was standing over you, shaking you gently. You popped up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and putting a hand to his throat. “Hey, hey,” he tried to calm you down, “Dean’s back.”

You released him immediately. “Sorry, dude. Uh… reflexes,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay. Dean does that, too.”

The man in question stumbled into the room tiredly. “Move your asses. Let’s go.”

***

You and Sam had just swept the Telescas’ house for EMF while Dean slept in the car trying to get over his hangover. When you returned to the car, you beeped the horn. Dean shot up a foot in the air and groaned.

“Man, that is so not cool.” He adjusted his sunglasses and leaned back against the car door. You and Sam climbed into your seats and began to explain what you had been up to.

“We just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were, well, out—” Sam trailed off.

Dean’s smirk made your stomach drop. “Good times.”

“—we checked the history of the house.”

“Nothing strange about the Telescas, either,” you said, swallowing your feelings.

“Alright,” Dean’s gravelly voice came, “so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something.”

“The house is clean,” you said.

“Yeah I know, you said that.”

“No, no, it’s empty. No furniture, nothing,” you explained.

Dean turned back to you. “Where's all their stuff?”

***

You felt so out of place in the swanky auction house the Telescas’ belongings had been brought to. Even the Impala looked like an outcast in the parking lot full of McLarens and Corvettes.

You and the brothers wandered around the auction house, and you wrapped your jacket tightly around yourself.

“Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me,” Dean commented. He took some food from a tray table as a man came up behind you.

“Can I help you?” the man questioned.

You wheeled around to face him.

“I'd like some champagne please,” Dean said in a mock posh voice.

You could’ve killed him. “He’s not a waiter.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow at you, and you held out your hand to the man. “I’m (Y/N) Dewitt. This is Sam and Dean Connors. We’re with Connors Limited. We’re art dealers.”

The man didn’t give you the courtesy of a handshake. You fought the urge to make an inappropriate comment.

“You. Are… art dealers,” the man said, clearly having difficulty grasping that concept. “I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list.”

“We're there, Chuckles, you just need to take another look.” Dean, of course, talked through a mouth full of food.

You shot a sharp look at Dean as he took a glass of champagne off the tray. He turned and walked off, and you followed him.

“Can you chill out?” you asked him.

“What?” he asked through a mouthful of champagne.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. I don’t like this crowd either, but relax.” You noticed a painting just beyond where you and Dean were talking. It was of a family in an American Gothic style; presumably from the early 1900s. The family contained three young girls in frilly dresses, a man with a gaunt and creepy face, and a woman you assumed was the mother seated in a chair.

“A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?” a woman’s voice called from behind you.

You turned to the place the voice came from to find an extremely good looking woman in a sleek black dress with glossed lips descending the staircase. You noticed Dean beginning to ogle her as Sam answered her. “Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did.”

The woman smiled as she approached you. “Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake.”

“I’m Sam,” he said. “This is my… brother, Dean.” Dean was still stuffing his face with food from passing trays. “And our friend, (Y/N).”

“Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?” Sarah questioned.

You snorted. You liked her.

“I'm good, thanks,” he smiled through a full mouth.

“So, can I help you with something?” she asked Sam. You knew she liked him; she was giving him the same look you often gave Dean.

“Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?” Sam asked her.

She grimaced. “The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?” Sam asked.

The man from earlier came up behind you. “I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that.”

“Why not?” you asked.

“You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your polite disposition. “Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“Apparently, I do,” he said.

“C’mon, Dean,” you said, dragging his arm out.

***

You and the brothers found a decently priced motel and approached the rooms you had been assigned.

“Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?” Dean scoffed at his brother.

“Art history course. It's good for meeting girls,” Sam replied simply.

Dean unlocked the door to his room and chuckled. “It's like I don't even know you.”

You walked a little further down to the room next to theirs and unlocked it only to find a gaudily outfitted room full of obnoxious disco decor. The "do not disturb" hanger was even of John Travolta’s silhouette from Saturday Night Fever.

“Huh.” You dropped your bag off and headed back to the boys’ room.

“What was… providence?” Dean was asking as you entered the room.

“Provenance,” you corrected. “It’s like a biography for a painting. You use ‘em to check the history of the pieces; in this case, to see if they have a freaky past.”

“Alright, professor,” Dean taunted you. “Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but Sarah…” he smirked at his brother.

“Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin,” Sam smirked back.

“Not me,” Dean laughed.

You shot a look at Sam, too.

He seemed only mildly horrified. “No, no, no, pickups are your thing, Dean.”

“It wasn't my butt she was checking out,” Dean snorted.

You giggled despite yourself.

“In other words, you want me to use her to get information,” Sam deadpanned.

“Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her,” Dean instructed his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, but took out his phone. You weren’t sure when he had gotten her number, but he left about an hour later to take her out to dinner.

You and Dean sat in awkward silence for a bit.

“So…”

You went silent again.

“What’s goin’ on with us, (Y/N)? You’ve barely spoken a word to me this whole trip.”

You huffed. “Nothing.”

“Obviously, it’s not nothing.” Dean held your challenging stare.

“Seriously, drop it, please,” you said.

“Fine. You wanna go get some food?”

You smiled despite yourself. “You know I do.”

You and Dean found a crappy diner with deliciously greasy burgers to stuff your faces with.

“So, how ‘bout you, sweetheart? Why don’t you ever go out?” Dean asked.

“On dates, you mean?”

He nodded.

You nibbled on a fry. “I’m just not one for hookups. I can’t take ‘em,” you admitted. “You, though, are king of the unattached drifters.”

He chuckled. “What’s wrong with hookups?

“I get too attached, which kind of defeats the whole purpose,” you replied. “The idea of being intimate with somebody I don’t even know makes me want to throw up.”

“Why? You’re gorgeous. Anybody would kill to get with you," he said casually.

You ignored the way your heart swelled in your chest. “It’s not that, it’s just…” you sighed. “I’m, like, allergic to vulnerability.”

“I get it,” Dean chuckled. “You know by now I’m not exactly the best with it, either.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re worse than me,” you quipped. “You look like you’re gonna throw up any time you have to tell me you’re sorry or something like that.”

“Maybe it’s just your face,” he retorted.

“Hey!” you giggled. “You can’t call me gorgeous one minute then tell me looking at me makes you sick the next.”

He chuckled. “I just did, so…”

“Whatever, Winchester. What is it about hookups you enjoy so much, anyway?”

He shrugged and took a bite of his burger. “Sex is just fun, I guess. Always helps me blow off steam.”

You scoffed. “I’m sure it does.”

“I’m serious! Helps me take a break from… all this.” He gestured around him.

“That’s why you have hobbies, Dean. Sex is not a hobby.”

“It can be! You draw, Sam reads, I fuck."

“Well, get a better one,” you scoffed.

“What would you suggest I do? Knitting?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, just… something a little more wholesome, maybe. You said it yourself, it doesn’t always make you feel great.”

“Never should’ve told you that,” he responded.

“Well, ya did, so.”

He snorted at you. “It’s frustrating how well you know me sometimes.”

“Oh, look at that, another crumb of vulnerability from Mr. Closed Book.”

“That’s the best diss you could come up with?”

“Hey, it’s not easy being effortlessly funny all the time,” you retorted. “It’s a lot of pressure.”

***

When you and Dean returned to the motel room, you pulled out your whetstone to sharpen your knives.

“Who you plannin’ on carvin’ up, sweetheart?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” you answered.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” he remarked.

“You do literally all the time,” you quipped. “You’re lucky you’re still in one piece. If you give me yours, I’ll sharpen ‘em, too.”

“Thanks,” he said. He handed his knives over to you.

Sam burst through the door at that moment holding a stack of papers. “Got ‘em.”

“So she just handed the providences over to you?” Dean questioned.

“Provenances,” you corrected.

“We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers—”

Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And?”

“And nothing. That's it. I left.”

“You didn't have to con her or do any… special favors or anything like that?” Dean questioned.

“Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?” the younger brother scoffed.

“You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit,” he suggested.

“Why?”

“So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that.”

Sam ignored his brother. “Hey, I think I've got something here.”

You headed over to Sam’s seated position at the desk and looked over his shoulder at the papers. “ ‘Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910’,” you read off.

“Now, compare the names of the owners with my dad's journal,” Sam said.

Dean pulled it out. “First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970.”

“Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it,” Sam continued.

“So what do you think? It's haunted? Or cursed?” you asked.

“Either way, it's toast,” said Dean, getting up from his bed.

***

Under the cover of night, you and the brothers broke into the auction house. You were consistently impressed with and sexually frustrated by how easy scaling tall fences and gates were for Dean.

“Come on!” Dean urged you.

You disarmed the security alarm, wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. “Go ahead,” you whispered.

Dean picked the lock at your cue. You shone your flashlight ahead of you searching for the painting. When you found it, you and the boys were in and out within minutes. You and the boys had clearly been breaking and entering for years. You found it comical almost how good you were. You brought the painting out to a field behind the arthouse and set it alight.

Dean dusted off his hands. “Ugly ass thing. If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor.”

***

Dean banged on your door the next morning. “We got a problem. I can't find my wallet.”

You opened it. “How the hell do you lose your wallet?”

“I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night.”

“Fuck, dude, that’s bad.” You started pulling on your boots as he paced around the room.

“Yeah, I know. It's got my prints, my ID— well, my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on.”

You and the brothers hurried around the auction house searching for the wallet. Sam was clearly frustrated with his brother until he caught sight of Sarah.

“Hey guys!” she smiled.

You wheeled around at the sound of her voice and attempted to act cool.

“Sarah! Hey,” Sam breathed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ahh, we.... we are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye,” Sam responded.

“What are you talking about Sam, we're sticking around for at least another day or two,” Dean grinned as he strolled up to the two. He took his wallet out of his pocket and shot a look at Sam. “By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you.” He turned to Sarah. “I always forget, you know.” Dean chuckled and you grinned as he held out the cash to his brother. Sam took it and glared at him. “Well, we’ll leave you two crazy kids alone, I gotta go do something… somewhere.”

“Smooth, Dean,” you told him as you walked away from Sarah and Sam. The two of you headed back out to the Impala and sat in it waiting for Sam. When he returned, he was frantically saying the painting was back in the auction house.

“I don't understand. We burned the damn thing,” Sam rushed out.

“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Dean remarked.

“Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?” you chimed in.

“Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em,” Sam began.

“Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?”

“Merchant,” you answered. “I say we find us a bookstore.”

***

And so, that was where you headed. You found a proprietor whose personality was interesting, to say the least. You found his quirk had a bit of charm to it.

“You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?” he asked you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sam said.

You and Dean were flicking through a book with pictures of guns in it. The proprietor laid a book of newspaper clippings on the table in front of you. “I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, are you folks crime buffs?”

“Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?” you responded.

He held up the newspaper article before him. It talked about the sinking of the Titanic, and just next to it, read “Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.”

“Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean replied.

“The whole family was killed?” You tilted your head.

“It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor,” the proprietor explained.

“Why'd he do it?” Sam questioned.

“Let's look. Ahh... ‘People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter…’ “ he skimmed on. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… ‘There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave.’ Which of course you know in that day and age, um, so instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave.” He drew his hand across his throat and made a noise to go along with it. You and Dean joined in laughing with the proprietor.

“Does it say what happened to the bodies?” asked Dean.

The proprietor shook his head. “Just that they were all cremated.”

“Anything else?” you asked.

“Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here. Somewhere. Right— here it is.”

It was a picture of the painting, but something seemed off to you.

“Hey, could we get a copy of this please?” Sam asked the man.

He nodded, and returned a few minutes later with it.

***

You and the boys sat at a table in the motel room and looked over the copy of the picture.

“I’m telling you,” you started, “The picture at the auction house, Dad’s looking down. Here, dad’s looking out. The painting changed.”

“Alright, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?” Dean questioned.

“Well, yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?” Sam asked.

“Maybe other things changed in the painting, too. Maybe it could give us some clues,” you answered.

“What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Dean looked down at you, confused. “I’m lost. Still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting.” He walked over to his bed and laid back, crossing his arms. “Which is a good thing ‘cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend.”

Sam huffed. “Dude, enough already.”

“What?” he responded.

“What? Ever since we got here, you been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?” he said defensively.

“Sam, relax,” you told him.

“Well, you like her don't you?” Dean pushed.

Sam threw his arms up and looked to the ceiling.

“Alright, you like her, she likes you, you’re both consenting adults…” Dean trailed off with a smile.

“What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave,” came Sam’s frustrated response.

“Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam.”

Sam snarled angrily. “You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?”

“ ‘Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time,” Dean answered calmly.

Sam stared at him and huffed before looking away.

“Look, I’m not crazy about hookups either, but maybe it would be helpful,” you suggested.

“And this isn't about just hooking up, okay?” Dean continued. “I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you. And... I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but... I would think that she would want you to be happy.” Sam’s eyes welled with tears as his brother continued to talk. “God forbid, have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?”

“Yeah, I know she would,” Sam responded softly. “Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”

“What’s it about?” you asked.

He wouldn’t answer you.

“Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…” Dean trailed off.

Sam picked up his phone and cleared his throat. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, settling back on his bed.

“Sarah, hey, it's Sam… Hey, hi… Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?... Yeah good, good, really good.”

Dean opened one eye and looked at his brother. “Smooth.”

You suppressed a laugh.

“So, ah, so listen,” Sam continued. “Me and my brother were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I- I think maybe we are interested in buying it… What?!”

At Sam’s tone, you and Dean snapped to attention.

“Who'd you sell it to?” Sam stood up.

Dean rose and came to stand next to you.

“Sarah, I need an address right now,” Sam urged her.

Once she’d given it to you, you and the boys sped away in the Impala to an upscale neighborhood. You and the boys were surprised to see another car parked right outside the building: Sarah’s.

“Sam, what's happening?” she asked as you and the boys ran up the front steps of the house.

“I told you, you shouldn't have come,” he responded.

“Hello, anyone home?” Dean banged on the heavy front door.

“You said Evelyn might be in danger; what sort of danger?” Sarah asked Sam frantically.

“I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it.” Dean crouched down in front of you and you moved over to the windows, banging on them with all your might.

“What are you guys, burglars?” Sarah yelped.

“I wish it was that simple. Look, you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good,” Sam told her.

Dean got the door open and you followed him inside quickly.

“The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend,” she said, trailing behind you and the boys. “Evelyn?” She moved over to the elderly woman sitting half-turned away from you. Something was wrong and you knew it; the woman’s gaze seemed completely empty. “Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake. Are you alright?” She touched her shoulder gently.

“Sarah, don't. Sarah!” Sam told her.

Evelyn’s head tipped back, exposing her slashed throat.

Sarah jumped back in horror and screamed. Sam put his arm around her and led her out of the room. You and Dean stared up at the painting before following the younger brother out of the house.

***

Back in the motel room, you and Dean clacked away at the keys on your laptops while Sam paced in front of you. A knock on the door stirred all of you from your thoughts. Sarah stormed into the room and brushed past Sam.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked her.

“No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's— alone— and found her like that,” she answered, wheeling around.

“Thank you,” Sam nodded.

“Don't thank me. I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?”

Sam looked back at you and Dean, and you shrugged.

“What,” he told her.

“What?”

“It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people,” he explained.

Sarah was still looking at Sam like he was insane.

“Sarah, you saw that painting move,” he sighed.

The woman began to pace. “No, no. I was— I was seeing things. It's impossible.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to our world,” Dean grinned.

“Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted.”

Sarah laughed humorlessly but had tears in her eyes. “You’re joking.” She looked between you and the Winchesters. “You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with.”

“Sarah, think about it. 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. And that's the truth,” the brunet told her.

“Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and… and I don't want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

“Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well, me and my Dad sold that painting that might have gotten these people killed. 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.” Sarah strutted over to the door. “So are we going or what?” She walked out.

“Sam?” Dean said. “Marry that girl.”

***

You and the boys returned to Evelyn’s house to scope out the crime scene a little further. Sam picked the lock to let you, his brother, and Sarah inside.

“Uh, isn’t this a crime scene?” Sarah protested.

Dean smirked. “You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?”

Once inside, you and Sam got the painting down from off the wall to examine it.

“Aren't you worried that it's gonna kill us?” Sarah asked.

“Nah, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're alright in the daylight.”

You took the copy of the painting out of your pocket. “Sam, check it out. The razor: it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one.”

“What are you guys looking for?” she asked.

“Well, if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, then it's doing so for a reason,” Dean explained.

“And look, the painting in the painting,” you pointed out. “Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something.”

Dean grabbed a thick glass ashtray and used it as a magnifying glass. You ignored how your body came alight as he wound his arm around you to reach the painting. “Merchant,” he read out.

***

Your next stop was a graveyard. Several, in fact. You stepped over gravestones carefully to avoid disrespecting the dead even further.

“What, are you superstitious?” Dean asked.

“A little, actually. I think I’m in such deep shit with the spirits already; I don’t wanna make it worse,” you laughed.

“You are somethin’ else, woman,” he smirked. “This is the third boneyard we've checked,” Dean addressed your group. “I think this ghost is jerking us around.”

Sam and Sarah talked amongst themselves behind you and you and Dean walked a bit ahead.

“Over there,” you said, pointing to a mausoleum. The group followed you into the mausoleum where you found four urns in front of little glass-fronted boxes on one wall. On the opposite, there were five brass nameplates.

Sarah looked at one of the boxes containing a little porcelain doll with brown hair. “Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen.”

“It was a sort of tradition at the time,” Sam told her. “Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case; put it next to the headstone or crypt.”

Wind blew in the mausoleum, sending a chill down your spine.

“Notice anything strange here?” Dean asked.

“Ah, where do I start?” remarked Sarah.

Sam snickered.

“No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns,” said Dean.

“Yeah. There’s only four. Where’s the dad?” you questioned.

***

You and Dean discovered that Isaiah’s body had been buried in that same cemetery away from the rest of his family. You returned there that night with Sarah in tow.

You stood watch with Sarah while the boys dug the hole down to Isaiah’s corpse.

“You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” she said.

Sam climbed out of the hole laboriously. “Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?”

You giggled when Dean’s shovel tapped something hard. “Think I've got something.” He cracked the coffin open to reveal Isaiah’s rotten bones. You helped him out of the ground and began pouring salt and kerosene over the body.

“You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah. Good riddance.” Dean tossed the match he’d struck down on top of the body.

“God, I will never get used to that smell,” you commented.

“What? Burning flesh?” the older Winchester turned his head to you.

You made a face and scrunched up your nose to which Dean just smirked at you and chuckled.

***

You returned to Evelyn’s house soon after to make sure the job was complete and bury the painting. You and Dean remained outside and told Sam to go in with Sarah. You and Dean smiled at each other before turning the radio up. A love ballad played loudly through the speakers, and Sam turned to the two of you. You both snickered at the “what the fuck” gesture he was giving you. Sam motioned for the two of you to cut the music. You sighed and turned it off.

Before you and Dean could say a word to each other, the door slammed shut behind Sam and Sarah. You and Dean jumped out of the car and ran across the lawn, trying your best to unlock it.

“Guys! Hey! Is that you?” Sam called from inside.

“Sammy, you alright?” the older brother asked. Moments later, you got a call from Sam.

“Tell me you slammed the front door,” you said after you answered.

“Nope, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl,” he told you.

“The little girl? What girl?”

“What’s he saying?” Dean interjected, leaning close to your ear and the phone.

“Yeah, she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along,” Sam said.

You snorted humorlessly. “The dad was trying to warn us all along. He was looking down at her the whole time.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let's recap later all right? Just get us out of here," the younger brother rushed out.

“Well, Dean’s trying to pick the lock, but the door won’t budge.”

“Well, knock it down!”

“Okay, smartass, just let me get my battering ram,” you remarked.

“(Y/N), the damn thing is coming!”

“I know, I know, just hold it off til we figure something out. Get some salt or iron or something,” you responded. “Stay on the phone with me!”

Moments later, you heard Sam say to himself, “What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks.” Another minute or so went by before he spoke back into the phone. “Uh, (Y/N), give me a sec, don't go anywhere.”

You and Dean began to walk around the outside looking for an alternative entrance. A bit of yelling and crashing was heard on the other end of the phone. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah, for now,” he responded.

“How’re we gonna waste her?” you asked.

“I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn.”

Dean got close to the phone again.

“Then how's she still around?” you challenged.

“There must be something else!” Sam went silent on the other end, but you could faintly hear Sarah’s voice.

“(Y/N), Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains; same as bones.”

“The mausoleum,” you and Dean said in unison.

“Hang tight, Sam,” you said, snapping your phone shut. You and Dean sprinted back to the car, and Dean drove as fast and as wildly as he possibly could.

“One of these days, your driving’s gonna fucking kill us all,” you said, gripping the leather of the seat next to you and the door.

“Not now, (Y/N),” he responded evenly, driving even faster. He plowed straight through the fence of the cemetery and drove right up to the mausoleum. You and Dean jumped out of the car and hurried into the building.

Dean pounded the door of the glass box containing the doll with the butt of his gun, and then went to walk out of the mausoleum. “Come on, Dean,” he grimaced. “Cover your eyes!” He told you. He shot at the box, and you shielded your face as he did so. You leapt back into action and knocked away more of the glass with your hands, cutting them as you did so. You ignored the burning in your palms and took the doll out of its case.

You held the doll’s hair over the lighter, which Dean was having trouble lighting. “Come on, come on!” he said. Thankfully, the lighter caught the hairs of the doll and sent it up in flames. You dropped it on the floor between you and Dean and watched the rest of the doll burn.

Dean pulled out his phone moments later to call his brother. “Sam, you good?” He breathed a sigh of relief and hung up the phone.

You looked down at your bloodied hands. Dean followed your gaze. “(Y/N), you maniac, what were you doin’ pawin' at that glass with your bare hands, huh?”

“It seemed like a good idea in the moment,” you mumbled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” He guided you back to the car. He held your wrists and sat you down in the front seat of his car. He went to his trunk and returned a few moments later. He sat next to you and gingerly began wiping down your hands. You hissed and grabbed his hand at the pain. He looked back up to you and paused momentarily.

“Sorry,” you said.

“All good,” he responded and went back to work. He gently cleaned your wounds with an alcohol-soaked rag and began to wrap up your left hand. You watched as he worked, heart swelling at the kind gesture.

“Thank you,” you said.

“You’d do the same for me,” he muttered.

“I would,” you affirmed, smiling.

He picked a piece of glass out of your right hand. You hissed again.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “This one’s probably gonna need stitches.” He handed you his flask. “Drink this.”

You did as told and took a sip, swallowing sharply as you felt the first prick of the needle in your palm. “I’m not trying to be a little bitch. I’m really not when it comes to pain,” you said. “I can finish stitchin’ me up on my own if you wanna get back to Sam—”

“No. Let me,” he responded authoritatively. He looked up through his eyelashes at you before returning his attention to your fingers. He ran his along yours and gingerly cleaned the cuts, giving special attention to the deeper ones before bandaging the exterior of your hands. You flexed them painfully.

“Thank you. Seriously,” you said softly.

“Any time,” he responded.

***

“This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds," Dean explained to you. “Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since.”

“Huh,” you said. “Psycho bitch.”

He scoffed. “You know you’re talking about a kid, right?”

“Yeah. Psycho bitch all the same.”

You and Dean were waiting outside of the auction house for Sam to finish talking to Sarah. You and he leaned against the car, watching Sarah and Sam talking at the door. Sam turned away from her before turning back moments later. He grabbed Sarah’s waist and pulled him to her, kissing her deeply.

“That's my boy,” Dean smiled.

“Alright, perv,” you remarked. You shoved him down into the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h

quite a few tags are broken; so sorry, my loves!! make sure you have my blog notifs on so you don't miss a chapter, and please let me know if ive misspelled your blog name!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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zepskies · 17 days ago

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hi! so I had a question, how long did it take you to build a following on tumblr? how long have you been writing for spn as a whole (I assume you started with it but I’m not sure I meant when did you start writing on the app mostly) and do you think it usually takes as long as it did for you for other people? (I hope the wuestion made sense)

Hi there, lovely anon!

Oh, these are great questions, and I'm happy to answer. I'm going to be referencing this post, as someone asked me a similar question.

I also talk a lot about my beginning fanfic/coming to Tumblr experience and building a following in this interview I did with the @idlingintheimpalapodcast.

That being said, here's how I got started in SPN fandom and on Tumblr, and 6 Tumblr Tips related to how I've tried to grow my blog:

Learn How Tumblr Functions

Create a Tag List

Posting Schedules, Announcements, and Sneak Previews

People are Visual (Use Images & Design Elements) + shoutouts to blogs I looked to for inspo

Support Your Fellow Writers! Reblog/Comment on What You Read & Enjoy

When I Do Get Engagement, I Reply to Comments and Reblogs

Deeper dive below the cut:

Writing for SPN & Starting on Tumblr

To be honest, I'm a bit late to the party when it comes to Tumblr. I've written for many different fandoms over the 15 years or so I've been writing fanfic, but I've been writing for Supernatural in particular since around 2015. I wrote on platforms like Fanfiction.net, and later I moved over to Ao3.

I dabbled with Tumblr starting in 2021 while I was working on a Billy Butcher x OC story for the Boys (And So It Goes). But after watching the last season of SPN, I got the SPN bug again, so I started dipping back into the fandom.

But I wasn't really that active on Tumblr until January 2023, when I wrote my first soulmate AU series for Dean Winchester, called Never Say Goodbye (Dean x soulmate!Reader).

That started a very fun journey for me in the Tumblr world, engaging with people and making friends here with awesome people! 💕

Now, here are a few tips on what I've learned in building my following. You don't have to do exactly what I did. This is just my advice based on my personal experience here:

Tip #1: Learn How Tumblr Functions

Everything has been a process of trial and error. I have a professional background in content and social media marketing, so that knowledge has helped me a lot with some elements I'll get into later.

But it took me time to learn the Tumblr landscape. I had to figure out:

Why it's important to reblog -- not just your own work in replying to people's comments, but what you read and enjoy. It's what makes Tumblr go 'round.

The different mobile vs. desktop views and functions.

How to format my posts and use hashtags that would best optimize my fics and posts, based on the most followed tags in the fandom I was writing for.

How to create design elements, like banners, dividers, and headers that matched my aesthetic and the fandom.

Make sure my blog is easy to read, visually, and easy to navigate, technically (links to my masterlists, series masterlists, tag list, my fic library side blog, Patreon, etc.).

I'm still adjusting all these things now and then as I figure out new ways to keep readers engaged, and make my blog as easy to navigate as possible.

Tip #2: Create a Tag List

A tag list is a list of blog users that request to be tagged in your upcoming fics. (See this post on tips for formatting tag lists and optimizing hashtags on posts.)

Some authors don't do tag lists anymore because they find it a hassle (and it can be), but even if you're just starting out, advertise your tag list -- I suggest at the end of a fic and in your bio, your masterlist, and/or navigation page. It will get more eyes on your posts, and hopefully more engagement.

I used Google Forms to build up my tag lists because it's easy to use and it creates a Google spreadsheet for you based on the responses you get (an idea I got from another writer who was doing the same thing). You can also create more sheets within the file to organize the responses by character, for example.

On my tag list, I gave readers options to choose which character they wanted to be tagged on based on the fandoms I write for. I also created tag lists for new series to go with the series masterlist. Like I said above, I created spreadsheets for each of these lists within my tag list form master sheet.

Now, you don't have to do it exactly this way. There are many ways to keep track of a tag list.

Some people may think my approach is too much work, but this was very successful for me in building up my tag lists and increasing my following. Staying organized is key! 🤓✌🏽

I have since created a side blog @zepskieswrites for people to follow with notifications on, since my character tag lists are full.

Tip #3: Posting Schedules, Announcements & Sneak Previews

When my blog started to gain traction from my first SPN series, I knew I had to post consistently. For me, this meant once a week (sometimes more if the mood strikes me), to keep that momentum going. YouTube vloggers do the same thing for this reason. They have a set posting schedule and give announcements.

You don't have to post once a week. That's just what I did last year to increase engagement, but also because I love to write, I was getting inspired, and I made the time for it!

Remember that writing and sharing your work and being a part of the fandom on Tumblr is supposed to be fun. At the same time, what you get out of something depends on how much time you have to put into it.

Basically what I’m saying is, I’ve put a lot of time and energy into my writing and my blog, but only because it’s been very fun to do it! 😉

Now, going back to being consistent. It can help you! When people know they have content waiting for them by a certain timeframe, and they see that you stick to that deadline, they're more likely to tune in and engage with your work.

Of course, real life comes first, always, and things can derail you, but on the whole I make sure that I keep my word when I say I'm going to post something. Tumblr has a scheduling feature that allows you to schedule posts ahead of time, which I use on a daily basis. That can help you as well.

To try and generate buzz around new stories, I give writing updates or announcements, often with sneak previews, and the dates when I plan to drop the upcoming story. When I'm writing a series, on each chapter I give a preview of the next one, so I can try to keep people invested and waiting for the next chapter.

Tip #4: People are Visual (Use Images & Design Elements)

A huge element of successful content and social media is visuals. The first thing people are often drawn to when they look at a web page, an ad, or any kind of digital content is the picture -- and any other visual elements. Then they look at the title/headline, followed by the rest of the story.

This is why I always lead with the title of the story/headline and a GIF or image at the top of the post for a story. Draw readers in with their eyes to the visual, and then the content. I now create my own design elements, including story headers.

When I got started here on Tumblr, I also took a closer look at how other popular blogs I admired were organizing their masterlists, formatting their stories with banners, dividers, tags/warnings, word count, creating tag lists, and more -- both to create their blog aesthetic and to make it easier for readers to enjoy their work on different levels -- the content itself, and the visual elements.

Shoutouts to some of those writers I looked to, who have a lovely blog aesthetic and organization: @luci-in-trenchcoats @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Form and function is a balance, and they should work together. For example, there are some design/post formatting elements that are getting popular now on Tumblr that I personally don't vibe with, because I think it takes away from the reader's experience.

Like making the entire post or story in small case. Readers that have trouble seeing small fonts won't want to read this.

or making everything in the story lower case. this just bothers me for grammatical reasons. guarantee i will be turned off from reading. 😂

Also, most people browse Tumblr on their phone rather than on desktop. (About 62% according to current Semrush statistics.) So certain things that are small in your desktop version will be even smaller on mobile.

If you have a custom blog design, some design elements may not transfer well visually on mobile vs. desktop, and vice versa. So you'll want to check both versions to see how it looks, and possibly make adjustments.

Now, this isn't to say you have to become a graphic designer if that's not your thing. There are plenty of people who share their lovely designs for free, as long as you make sure to credit them if you use one of their banners, dividers, etc. Check out @cafekitsune and @firefly-graphics, for example.

Some of them even take requests. Just make sure to check their bio to see if they state whether they're currently taking requests or not. (This also goes for writers on fic requests.)

Tip #5: Support Your Fellow Writers! Reblog/Comment on What You Read & Enjoy

This is part of the fun when you start truly engaging with the fandoms you love.

Likes are cool. Comments are wonderful. Reblogs with comments are awesome, because not only do they get that engagement/feedback that they can reply to, but the reblog helps your fellow writers get seen. And while they aren't obligated to, they might be more inclined to do the same for you.

You'll also start to develop relationships within your fandom community. This is how I've made many friends and gained new readers on Tumblr -- by reblogging, sharing, commenting on what I liked about the fics I read. 💜

I try my best to support my fellow writers, no matter how new or how popular they are. Just because a writer has a bigger following, doesn't mean they appreciate feedback any less.

Feedback gives us writers energy and fuels us to write more. It can lead to more inspiration, and to continue the series you might be so invested in.

So if I took the time to read something, if I enjoyed it, I'm usually reblogging it and sharing my thoughts, even if it's just a gif or a couple of lines, or a long raving review. 💖

Tip #6: When I Do Get Engagement, I Reply to Comments and Reblogs

Along with supporting my fellow writers, engaging with the lovely people who read my work is just good fun! It's the best part of sharing my work on here and on Ao3. And it lets them know that you value and appreciate them for taking the time to comment and/or comment in a reblog. 💓💓💓

I hope these tips are helpful! Now, to answer your last question...

Do you think it usually takes as long as it did for you

[to build a following] for other people?

Interesting, but the truth is, I'm not sure. My knowledge of content and social media marketing has probably given me a leg up, I think. I've also been writing fanfic for a long time. Long before I ever heard about Tumblr.

I've spent years studying literature, creative writing, and screenwriting, and putting it into practice. I've spent years writing for other voices besides my own, outside of the fanfic world. Like anyone else, I can only go by what I've learned, my own instincts, my frame of reference, and what I want to write about next.

Like anyone else, I can only hope that what I put out there vibes with people and touches them in some way, enough that they feel comfortable letting me know what they thought about it. 💜

In the meantime, I'll just keep getting inspiration from this guy (and other characters):

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pleasanttaleswithkaityb · 10 months ago

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How to Create a Structured Navigation Page on Tumblr: A Step-by-Step Guide

Introduction

Creating a navigation page helps moots stay up today on your posts, especially stories or series on your Simblr. Below are the steps I used to help me organize and create my navigation system!

What Does "Mobile-Friendly" Mean?

A mobile-friendly navigation page keeps users within their Tumblr app while they explore your links. This ensures a smooth user experience for those primarily using Tumblr on mobile devices. To achieve this: - Use links that are generated within the Tumblr app or dashboard viewer. - Avoid using direct URL links from a web browser, as they may redirect mobile users from the Tumblr app. - You can test the links yourself on the Tumblr app to make sure they open correctly without redirecting out of the app.

Step 1: Planning Your Content

Before creating your page, plan the content and sections you want to include. Think about categories like:

Household stories

Series updates

Character profiles

FAQs

Gameplay guides

Mods and CC (Custom Content)

Step 2: Pinning Your Main Navigation Post

To ensure that your navigation is the first thing visitors see, you can pin a post on your Tumblr blog. Here's the process:

Write Your Navigation Post: Create a post with all your navigation links and information. This post will serve as the main guide for visitors to your blog.

Pin the Post: - Open your Tumblr dashboard. - Navigate to the post you want to pin. - On the top right of the post, click the "..." (more) button. - From the dropdown menu, select "Pin this post to the top of your blog".

Set Pin Duration: Decide how long you want the post pinned.

Check Your Blog: Visit your Tumblr blog to ensure the post is pinned at the top.

By pinning your main navigation post, you make it easy for followers and visitors to understand how to explore and enjoy your content right from the start.

Step 3: Organize Your Tags

Establish a tagging system that works for you and be consistent. For example here are some of mine:

Use #the[lastname]household for family-specific posts.

Tag seasonal stories with #fall1, #winter1, etc.

Create special tags for FAQs, such as #askkaityb for questions.

Step 4: Create Hyperlinks

Transform tags into clickable links that lead to filtered content:

- Write out your tags in your blogs search bar - Click a tag, the page should change to all your post with that tag. you're going to copy the URL and hyperlink that to your navigation post (for example here what mine looks like: https://www.tumblr.com/pleasanttaleswithkaityb/tagged/pleasantview%20legacy) - Repeat for each tag you plan to use.

Step 5: Design and Layout

Make your navigation page visually appealing:

Use headers to denote different sections. Consider adding icons or images for visual interest. Keep the layout clean and readable.

Step 6: Publish and Promote

Once you’re happy with the page:

Make sure to publish or reblog your new navigation page in a post to inform your followers.

Step 7: Maintenance

Regularly check your navigation page to reflect new content and ensure all links work. Now, anytime you tag a post with your hashtags, that link's thread will automatically be updated!

Tips:

Keep your audience in mind. Use clear, descriptive titles for your links.

Update your navigation page regularly as you add new content.

Encourage feedback. Ask your followers if they find the navigation page helpful.

Feel free to customize this guide to match your blog's specifics and needs. Let me know if y'all have found any of your own tips & tricks for creating your navigation system! Happy simming!

@bambiwhims - Hope this helps :3

#new simblr #simblr #simblr help #how to organize #tagging system #ask kaity b #kaity b answers #kaity b resources

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dbphantom · 1 year ago

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whoag!!! so cool!!!!!!

i doubt anyone wants this, but here's the template in case you do!

chapter 1 of the merman lewis fic has been posted

[link in reblog bc apparently tumblr hides posts with links in them from tags]

#Happy mermay!!!#Cruddy rambles #I just want it to be known that I already have a season 3 episode for this au written in it's entirety #But I couldn't even finish chapter 1 #Adhd sporadic writing is real and it sucks and I hate it and I scream every day and night forever #Also if the spacing seems wack in the fic I do all my writing on my phone in the Google docs app so I apologize #But it looks good on mobile so...... 👀 Phone time?#Also oh my god autocorrect stop changing its to it's automatically when I actually used the correct version it's driving me nuts #ALSO ALSO do u know how difficult it was for me to write 8 whole pages. A description. Tags. And 2 author notes. WITHOUT CURSING ONCE??#I curse like a sailor. But I am trying so hard to keep this fic in the style of the show. So I will shut my mouth. Because I know. What we #Need right now. Is a complete. And utter. Lack of cursing.

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letsgethaunted · 1 year ago

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Mobile Tags Season Five Part 2

Ep. 156: The Titanic Conspiracy - Untold Stories feat. MetaPsycKicks

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 157: The Hat Man, A Deep Dive into the Internet’s Favorite Viral Paranormal Entity

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 158: 50 Berkley Square - London's Most Haunted House

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 159: The Gray Man of Pawleys Island feat. Believing the Bizarre

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 160: The Haunting of Bhangarh Fort feat. Real Life Ghost Stories

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 160.5: Listener Stories #23

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 161: Paranormal Games to Play in the Dark, Vol. V feat. Monsters Among Us

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 162: Werewolves of 17th Century Europe feat. A Paranormal Chicks

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 163: The Russian Sleep Experiement, Soviet Poison Labs, and the Humanzee

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 164: The Creepy House that Haunted Britney Spears and Killed Brittany Murphy

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 165: The Codex Gigas aka "The Devil's Bible" feat. Heart Starts Pounding

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 165.5: Listener Stories #24

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 166: Haunted Disneyland feat. Chilluminati

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 167: Krampus & Other Alpine Folklore (+ Real Life Krampus Sightings!)

Episode Link Photodump

Ep. 168: The Denver Airport Conspiracy

Episode Link Photodump

BONUS! Season 5 Finale Q&A

#Mobile Tags Season Five Part 2 #Let's Get Haunted

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ritz-writes · 6 months ago

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okay, since the trailer is out, heres my obligitory message to the lmk fandom:

tag your spoilers

"but its just the trailer right now" not everyone watches those. i almost didn't because i like to be completely surprised. not everyone has watched it and not everyone is going to watch it

"what if its not plot related?" its still a spoiler. and a lot of people have different ideas of what is and isn't plot related. i've had major things spoiled for other fandoms cuz ppl didnt think they were that important, but they were to me

"how am i supposed to know if something is a spoiler?" if it has ANYTHING to do with the trailer or s5, its a spoiler. it doesnt matter if its just an outfit or an interesting pose a character is making. its from the new season, be it the trailer or the show itself, so therefore you need to mark it as so

if you really dont want to take the time to put "lmk s5" or "lmk s5 spoiler" for some reason, then at least put a page break and a warning

like this (dont worry there arent actual spoilers under the cut):

possible s5 spoilers!

like that. its that easy

for those that dont know how to do it, you click this button

its the same symbol on mobile too

and if youre posting on tiktok, please put a warning before the video that gives fans ample time to scroll away if they want to

i got spoiled for major things in s4 and was devastated because of it. so please, lets all tag accordingly this time? my rule of thumb is tagging a minimum of 2 months after the english comes out, but i personally tag past 4-5 months just to make sure.

okay, thats all from me. happy s5 yall! lets be kind and respectful to each other and the new studio <3

#lmk #lego monkie kid #ritz rambles

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adverbally · 3 months ago

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I’m Never Gonna Dance Again

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Careless Whisper - George Michael” | wc: 795 | rated: T | cw: description of knee injury, brief discussion of surgery and recovery | tags: career-ending injury, ballet dancer steve, eddie is also a ballet dancer but that’s less relevant to the story, I am not a ballet expert but I did my best

———

Steve built his reputation as a danseur on his ability to jump: height, hang time, graceful landings, the complete package. So maybe it’s only fitting that the last step of his professional ballet career would be a jump as well.

A double cabriole derrière.

He’d done it hundreds of times in his career, on stage and in the studio. Throwing a leg into the air, twisting his body while his other leg comes up to beat against it twice, pushing it even higher, before landing on the bottom leg again. So simple he could float through it on autopilot, already thinking ahead to nailing the triple tour en l’air later in the variation.

Muscle memory takes over as he launches upward, raising one arm above his head with the other extended to the side, feeling the perfect point of his feet as his legs meet in the air, once, twice before gravity takes over again…

Steve hears the pop before he feels anything.

Then comes the pain in the front of his knee as it buckles beneath him. He can’t get up, he can’t even extend his leg, and he knows immediately that his days as a principal dancer are over.

It isn’t the injury itself that’s the problem. A fully ruptured patellar tendon, like his own, can be repaired. With surgery and physical therapy, he could be healed in a year, tops. Strength and range of motion almost fully restored, just a little stiffness in the joint.

But it would happen again. Repetitive motion, jumping and leaping and landing, had weakened the tendon in the first place, and resuming his work would put him at risk of another tear. He could strain other parts of his leg as he compensated for his weakened knee, and the potential cascade of more surgeries and less mobility… he needs to think beyond his ballet career and consider the rest of his life.

Eddie helps him with that, as he always does. Ballet had brought them together, from roommates at the conservatory to partners dancing for the same company. As much as he cherished sharing the stage with the love of his life, there is so much more Steve wants to share with him– walks along Lakeshore Drive, the stairs to the front door of their future home, maybe even a couple of toddlers to chase around.

Losing ballet would be okay as long as he still has Eddie, Steve thinks.

And for the most part, it is. His surgery is successful and he storms through his rehabilitation with a focus he never used outside of ballet. He keeps his spirits up, even once the cold weather sets in and the ballet season begins without him. He can walk without a limp, moving through the daily activities of his new life as if nothing had ever happened. He even tries a few simple footwork sequences under the close supervision of his physical therapist.

(When asked to jump, he refuses to try, not even a simple assemblé. It would be too painful to see how his technique had suffered in the months without practice, how the leaps that once came to him as easily as breathing are now far out of his reach.)

Everything is fine until eight months post-injury. That’s when the dreams start.

It’s usually Steve, alone on the stage, performing a solo to an empty auditorium. No music, only the slap of his slippers against the floor with every step. It’s often something he’s performed before, like Siegfried’s solo in the third act of Swan Lake or Albrecht in Act 2 of Giselle. Other nights, it’s his original choreography, made up while staring out the window on the El as he heads home from the studio. One memorable time, it’s a pas de deux of his own creation, with Eddie as his partner as they trade leaps and lifts and pirouettes as equals.

The dreams always feel so peaceful. There are no distractions, just him and his body and his breath, moving through variations, feeling the emotion behind each dance, doing what he does best. He hits every step perfectly. It’s like the endorphin rush of his best performance, every time.

And then he wakes up.

He has a moment, a fleeting thought of his rehearsal schedule for the day, wondering if his favorite practice tights are clean, before reality sets in. Then it hits him, and it hits him hard. He stumbles out of bed with his knee stiff from sleep, hoping he doesn’t wake Eddie.

Steve slips into the bathroom and turns on the shower. Then he braces himself on the vanity counter and cries as long and as loud as he wants, knowing the running water will cover up the sound of his grief.

#steddieangstyaugust #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mine

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anki-of-beleriand · 11 months ago

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Bad Liar ch. 11

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers

Warnings: Slow burn - slightly Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - idiots in love - homophobia - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: It was Agatha all along, America confronts Wanda, and you and Wanda are walking on thin ice about ready to break.

As always, English is no my mother tongue, so please forgive the grammar, spelling and funny mistakes!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 11

Setting Expectations

The Winter Festival was one of the most important festivities celebrated in the school.

It had been the founders tradition, your grandmother had always inspired others, and was always ready to give them a chance to shine by showing on their leadership and creative thinking. The fact that you were paired up with Wanda Maximoff so many years after the tradition started was something you never imagine possible. Her ideas, as well as her willingness to always be kind made of that year one of the most impressive festivals ever.

The week had been divided into seasons, and each day held a different kind of decoration as well as different offers of cultures, food and entertainments that resembled Christmas in different parts of the world. The students had been lucky enough to share the colours of Spring, Summer and Autum so far while Winter was reserved to the last day of the week and when the Winter Yule Ball would be done.

Wanda had been so proud to see the school decorated and enjoying the different activities you two had planned. For her it was always a joy to see the fountains decorated with LED colours while the stands were filled with food and games, with movies and music representing the world and showing the students the diversity of the world. Natasha and the rest of the school board had been impressed, Tony was already trying to convince Wanda to be part of his engagement team and Thor and Sif had asked Wanda her skills to organize birthday parties.

The young woman found herself soon being praise by these people she had just gotten to meet a few months ago. A part of Wanda was amazed at what she had missed most of her life, the doubts would come into her mind from time to time, but she was always ready to quiet them down by looking at all the progressed she had made. Wanda’s mind drifted towards the divorce papers she had signed, along with the documents for the full custody of the twins. Her life had certainly changed, and now all she got to do was to live her life to its fullest; and in this very thought, she couldn’t help but see you there.

Wanda allowed a tiny smile to show on her face, America shifted on her chair glancing at the message that you had sent a few moments ago to let your sister know you had arrived at the school grounds. America had gotten used to you coming over, every day you had been there ready to supervise that everything was working as it was supposed to, Maria would send you some notifications to your mobile to keep you up to day to the office but most of the time you found yourself sharing your time with the woman and the children that had, little by little sneaked inside your heart and life in ways you or your sister never imagined.

The sound of laughter filled the classroom, America jerked around when a hand fell on her desk and she could see Loki giving her a knowing glance. The young woman sighed turning to her friends then to her teacher that was writing the assignment for the Winter break on the board.

“Are you going to do it?” Loki almost whispered, Yelena tilted her head shooting America a quick glance before returning her attention to her notebook.

“I think so, yes.” America cocked her head, she bit on her lower lip before turning to Kate.

Kate offered a sympathetic smile, she hesitated before placing her hand, “do you want us to stay over?”

America glanced at Kate’s hand then back into the girls eyes.

“Nah, I think this is something I need to do alone. You guys go on ahead and I’ll meet you in the park.”

Just as America was saying this Wanda turned around wearing a grin, her hands placing themselves on the desk while her eyes swept around the room. Everyone was already packing their stuff, many of them talking and laughing while watching their watches and the door. Wanda rolled her eyes with the same smile still in place.

“Well, guys, seeing as everyone is ready to just run out of the window,” Wanda snorted when there were some cheers from the back, she lifted her hands waving at them, “yes, I know everyone is excited for the dance and the festival, so I will give you these ten minutes and see you tomorrow.”

“Professor Maximoff!! You are the QUEEN!” Sam Wilson screamed from the back and soon he was leaving the room.

The group all glanced at one another before everyone grabbed their things, Wanda had busied herself with her phone wearing the all-familiar smile the teens had come to associate with the conversations she had with you. Kate stayed behind her hand firmly placed around America’s one.

“I’ll wait for you outside, good luck.” The young brunette hesitated before leaning in and kissing America on her cheek, the both of you shared a timid smile before Kate also left the classroom.

Soon the classroom was empty with only Wanda and America in it.

America sat with her back completely straight up, her dark eyes focused on the young woman sitting by the professor’s desk. She had played with these thoughts for more than a week, the decision to actually have a conversation with her sister and with Wanda taking form after America had find out about the past of her teacher. She had never had the need to intervene in her sister’s personal life, America understood her place but also the limits of her relationship with her sister and while the both of them listened to one another and advice one another, they had never dared to go this far.

This was the reason of her doubts.

To actually step closer and have a conversation with Wanda, even before anything had happened would risk everything Y/N had been working on to gain. America knew her sister was more than a little attracted to Wanda, she knew Y/N so well she was pretty certain the older woman was already far too in love with Wanda to back down now. America let out a heavy sigh, she grabbed her bag and stood up making her way to a now shocked Wanda.

“America, is everything alright? Do you need something?” There was something in the seriousness America was wearing that made Wanda nervous. She tried to look casual, following with her eyes as America sat down putting her back on the floor.

“America?” Wand asked tentatively.

America took a deep breath, “I’ve wanting to talk to you, professor.”

The request caught Wanda by surprised, she leaned over furrowing her brows and trying to hide her nervousness with a half-smile.

“Sure, is there something the matter? I mean, this is quite surprising.” The question this time around came insistent, her voice strained as she tried to gauge America’s intentions.

For more than a minute America remained silent looking everywhere but at Wanda. The other woman tapped on the table before leaning forward, her lips twitching slightly trying to hold back how strange this moment was for her.

“America, you are kind of making me anxious here.” Wanda finally stated leaning forward. “Did something happen with Billy and Tommy? With your sister? With you?”

“I’ve been planning this conversation over and over, and I think there is not a right way to start it,” America sighed leaning back while dropping her head back, smiling with her eyes now totally focused on Wanda, “my sister is everything to me, you know? And I know how much she has sacrificed for me and for herself. Right now, you and her…well, something is happening, isn’t it?”

There was a deep tense silence all around the classroom, Wanda was left speechless with her eyes slightly opened and the air leaving her lungs. America just waited for the shocked to leave Wanda, perhaps to hear her give the explanation she was looking for.

“America…” Wanda started but she could not say anything else, this was something she knew she would need to confront sooner or later. But she just didn’t expect for America to be the first one to bring the subject up.

Though, Wanda shouldn’t be surprised, America and Y/N had a sisterly relationship that had deepened after their parents death. Wanda had seen the overprotective nature of Y/N when talking and helping America, and she had seen the way America was always trying to protect her sister and make sure that happiness was something possible for her.

“Look, I know you and Y/N had not talked about anything at all, but I’m not fool, you know? I have seen you and I just…” America clamped her mouth shut before speaking again, “do you like my sister?”

The question was finally out there, and while Wanda had already been confronted by Hope and Natasha, she was now facing a different person that actually could be affected by Wanda’s answer. The woman took a deep breath not able to hold America’s eyes any longer and instead looking right outside the window.

“I know you do, you know? I mean, it’s pretty obvious, really.” America rolled her eyes when Wanda turned sharp, green eyes her way.

“Obvious?” Wanda almost stuttered and America merely smirked.

“You have spent most of your time with us ever since Tommy got sick, and I have seen the way you are around Y/N, I just want to make sure that you’re not going to hurt her.” America shrugged resting her elbows on the table while looking outside the window as well. “I want my sister to be happy, and you know? You have made her happy as of late, so…”

“Is it really that important for you to know?” Wanda dropped her face furrowing her brows, “if I answer your question things may change, you know? And I’m not sure…I don’t think…”

Wanda trailed off unable to finish her sentence, there was a long silence once more in which America had thought about the conversation. Not many things were aid, and yet she knew she got her question answered, Wanda did like Y/N she was still unsure on how to proceed. Which was not surprising, America had the feeling this was the first woman Wanda had been attracted to. With more courage that she really felt America decided to finish the conversation with what she had really come to say.

“I understand. You don’t have to say anything to me, Professor.” Wanda lifted her eyes, dread filling up her mind the moment she crossed eyes with America, there was something in the serious façade of the young woman that was making Wanda nervous.

“What else do you want to say to me, America?”

America leaned back and, after a moment of doubt she spoke, her voice deep and concern broke into Wanda’s mind like a bucket of cold water.

“I know you are still married, professor, and that the reason you are here is because your husband is a bad man.” America could see her words affecting Wanda, but once she started she couldn’t stop. “I know that you are hiding from him, and I will assure you, Professor, that your secret is safe with me, I would never put you or Billy and Tommy in danger.”

The air around Wanda was sucked into a void, the world around her eyes turned blurry and unsteady just as she opened her mouth to say something. She couldn’t say anything, though, she just sat there trying to comprehend what was happening.

“I know that your husband is a bad man, and that he hurt you and the twins so bad that right now he has a restraining order against him and a petition of divorce on your part, and full custody of your children.” America clamped her mouth shut, waiting silently as Wanda processed everything she just said.

The silence that followed America’s words was deafening.

Tension grew in between them, Wanda had her eyes fixated on an invisible spot hearing the blood bombed through her ears. She could feel her lungs filling up with air, only for it to leave as soon as it was in, the world started spinning around and she was just grateful of being on her seat. Her hands clenched tightly, with her brows knitting together.

“How?” Wanda was confused and extremely annoyed. Did Y/N know about this? Was she aware of Wanda’s situation the whole time? Did she send her sister to talk about this?

Questions like these ones ran through her mind, she was getting red in the face and being it by shame or anger she was not sure anymore. America could see the overwhelming range of emotions crossing on Wanda’s face waiting patiently for the final outburst.

“I---I suspect something was up with you, and my sister…” America trailed off tensing the muscles of her face. “Look, Professor, I love her so much, she is the only family I have left. She may not show it too much, but she really is like a marshmallow inside hot chocolate.”

Whatever anger or confusion Wanda felt at the moment was soon diminished by this comment; it had been the best description she could heard of you.

“She really is…she likes you, a lot,” America continued, “and you are this new person with two kids, you were a mystery in itself, I need to make sure you are good enough for my sister.”

“By violating my privacy, America?” The question came with a cold reproach.

America winced lifting her hand to scratch the back of her neck, much like her sister did whenever she was nervous.

“I…I just…look, everything pointed to something strange, and the twins, well they did help some by telling me things they shouldn’t. Probably.”

Another uncomfortable silence fell between them, Wanda leaned back holding back the tears that were threatening to leave her eyes.

“Does she know?” She finally asked in a thin voice.

America opened her eyes wide, shaking her head.

“Y/N doesn’t know I couldn’t tell her!”

“But if you could tell her…” Wanda pressed but America scoffed, still denying this with gestures.

“No, I love my sister but this is not my story to tell, Professor.” America shrugged before continuing. “Look, all I know is that in the last couple of months you and my sister had become closer, and as time passes I can see the affection she holds for you and the twins, I don’t want her to get hurt because she has done so much, and she has also suffered so much I just want to make things as easier for her as she does for me.”

Wanda was not sure how to react to such a confession. On one hand, she felt her trust betrayed by her student, she had trusted America from the very first time Natasha recommended her and hearing this invasion to her privacy made her doubt the young woman in front of her. On the other hand, she understood why America had done it, it didn’t excuse her, but Wanda understood.

“I know what I did was wrong, and perhaps I should have asked you first.”

“You should have, yes.” Wanda replied cooly, America winced shrugging.

“I know, but I did it and I just…” America trailed off lowering her eyes. “I’m sorry you have to go through all of that, Professor. I’m kinda glad I know this mainly because now I understand Tommy and Billy better. And even you.”

Wanda shifted on the chair lowering her eyes, America continued knowing she didn’t have much time of this conversation.

“Now, Professor, my confession to my crime comes also with a demand.” America made sure to never back up from the glare Wanda was sending her way.

“Do you think you are in position of demanding something of me?” Wanda inquired with a hint of disbelief; America nodded curtly.

“My sister deserves to know everything, Professor.”

Wanda dropped her jaw at such demand, but America didn’t change her posture or the glint of determination in her eyes.

“Y/N really likes you; I don’t think this is a secret, and as such, I think she deserves to know everything about you and the situation you are in.” America gulped leaning closer. “I promise you won’t regret it, and I know Y/N would be able to help you, she won’t let anything bad happen to you and the twins. But before you and her cross that line you and I both know you will cross, I think she deserves to know everything.”

Wanda sat dumbfounded on the chair, her mind processing everything that America had just shared with her. The fact that America knew everything, all the gross details of her past with Vision, of her divorce, of the court orders; Wanda felt her life exposed in ways she never thought possible. Her past was something she tried to protect from shame and fear of it coming back to haunt her and repeating itself. She was afraid of falling into Vision’s hands again, but more so of his threat of ending the life of her children while taking her to places where she could never escape.

Wanda was no fool, she knew sooner or later this part of her life would come out into the light, it was part of the process of healing and facing her demons. But she wished it had come out on her terms, she lifted her face and could see America was getting nervous, the guilt hidden behind her overprotective nature. Wanda understood why America had done what she did, it was quite obvious America didn’t let pass the strange events at the very beginning of her career as a babysitter to the twins, or those scars she could have seen when helping them getting dress, or even Wanda’s erratic behaviour at the very beginning.

“Professor?”

“You betray my trust, America.” Wanda all but whispered, her voice breaking at the very end making America winced. “When I first came here I only trusted Natasha, and then you came in like an angel to help me with the twins, and now finding that you went out of the way to find about my past, it is disappointing.”

America’s face fell, “I know.”

“I understood why you did it.” Wanda continued frowning. “I just wish you have come to me first, I don’t know what to say or do now, I just…”

“Professor, there is nothing to do or say, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have and that’s why I’m telling you this.” America hesitated chewing on her lower lip before continuing, “I really love Billy and Tommy, you know? And then, when you start spending more time with Y/N, I just knew that I need to know you were good enough for her, then after finding out everything I…I give it a thought and well, is not my story to tell, is yours, Professor, that’s why I want you to consider this and tell my sister everything.”

Wanda was taken aback; she shook her head, opening her mouth in disbelief.

“You want me to tell Y/N this? Why would…” Wanda started but America stopped her by standing up and approaching the older woman.

“Professor, my sister is everything to me,” America started without letting go of Wanda’s eyes, “and you have become everything to her, she needs to know and believe me when I tell you that you won’t regret it. You won’t lose her. If anything, I think this is the last piece of the puzzle to make whatever you two want to happen.”

“You are asking too much, America.” Wanda looked away scowling.

“Do you love my sister?” America pressed over; Wanda felt her cheeks burn but she refused to back down. “Are you in love with her?”

“I don’t think…” Wanda stood up as well, “I think you are overstepping…”

“Please, Professor,” America dropped her stance, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears, “I know what I did is wrong, don’t punish her, please…I…I’m risking everything by telling you this, and is not fair that once more she has to sacrifice her happiness because of me. I just…think about it, please? Believe me, you won’t regret it, she will still love you regardless of your past, just…I’m sorry, ma’am.”

America sat down again, Wanda could see the tears rolling down the young woman’s cheeks and the confused stare in her eyes. It was quite evident she had not planned this conversation in the way it had come out to be.

“I did plan to tell her, America, just not yet.” Wanda passed a hand through her hair, not really knowing what else to do or say, “this is not easy for me.”

“I know.” America mused over her own reasons before speaking again. “You and her had become close in the last couple of weeks, she is always out there protecting me and making everything in her power to make me happy, Just this time, I want to make sure she is happy.”

Whatever anger Wanda felt at the sudden invasion of her privacy, and whatever fear she held for her past and what it meant to her dissipated under the soothing statement coming from America. The both of them sat quietly for a moment, both of them going over their thoughts and what they should do next.

“Y/N is getting here soon,” America finally broke the silence, she lifted her stare but Wanda was looking at some invisible spot on the wall, “I guess I better get going, Professor.”

The young woman stood up grabbing her bag pack again, she turned around but stopped at the door when Wanda called to her.

“This won't change our relationship, America.” Wanda measured every word, gaging the reactions from the young woman, “it may take some time to process this, but I do understand why you did it.”

“Do you promise you won't hurt her? Can you promise that?”

The request came with a heavy load, Wanda could see that behind those simple questions America was trying to make sure you wouldn't be left in the dark with something as important as Wanda, Billy and Tommy's past. It was not fair to you and even with them if, whatever was happening with you and Wanda was built on a lie. Or a half true.

“I won't hurt her, America. I couldn't.” Wanda hesitated before closing the conversation with a last confession. “She has become part of my world now and I couldn't bear to see her suffer because of this.”

America opened her eyes, she opened her mouth before nodding curtly and leaving the classroom.

Wanda was finally left alone, she rested her back against the chair. Her eyebrows knitted together trying to comprehend what just happened. If she were to be honest with herself, she was not angry, upset yes, but not angry. Closing her eyes, she tried to identify the emotion navigating through her system, it made her limbs lighter with a glimpse of tranquillity in her mind.

Wanda was relieved.

However they had found out about everything, however America had decided to get that information, the secret was out and Wanda was relief. She had feared the reaction from others but all she got from America was understanding and acceptance, she didn't see blame or disgust, or worse yet, a card they could take advent age of.

Wanda glanced out of the window, she knew she needed to have this conversation with Y/N, it was something she had come to realize after that Saturday afternoon. With a heavy heart, and a tingle of anticipation, Wanda grabbed her things and went outside ready to meet with you.

She would tell you everything. Soon.

________________________

The afternoon was cold, filled with newcomers that wanted to enjoy the Christmas Market that the school had opened for not only their local population but by those living around the city. You smiled proudly at the people coming in and out the place, everyone happy to shop and enjoy not only the different products but also the games and the entertainment you and Wanda had organized for that week.

Natasha stood by your side, she turned a half smirk your way putting her mobile away.

“You two really did a good job with this festival.” Natasha eyed you carefully, her arms resting at her sides. “And what you did in the auditorium, let me tell you they are going to love it.”

You chuckled putting a hand on your pocket, your head tilting slightly while your eyes travel around the sea of people coming in and out the school grounds and the street.

“Well, we did try to make our best and Wanda was magnificent. She was the one who really came up with most of these ideas.”

Natasha arched her left eyebrow her lips twitching upwards. It had been a while since she heard that tone of voice in you, and even now it sounded different. There was not only affection by gentleness in there, but your whole features also softened while your eyes gleamed contentedly. It had been like that from some time now whenever you talk about Wanda or the other woman was close by. Natasha was happy to discover this newfound affection, she had seen it from afar and, while she had been a sceptic about Wanda wanting to go in a relationship with a woman, after having been with the both of them in meetings for the Winter Festival the older woman didn't have any doubts.

They were standing on thin ice, waiting for the tension to be unbearable until the only option left would be to say what they need and they want from the other.

There was one topic that bothered Natasha and that had been the Jarvis topic. She hated leaving you in the darkness about the man, but Maria had assured her everything was going according to plan, though as of late the man had been acting strange trying to get far closer to you. Asking questions about your whereabouts and where you live, about your family. Maria had been quite good at avoiding the direct confrontation, but this only showed both women that the man was not used to someone saying no to him.

“Hey, earth to Tasha, are you here?” You waved a hand in front of her eyes, the woman blinked clearing her throat.

“Sorry, I zoned out for a moment.” Natasha tried to ease your concerns by offering a wink. “Maria was asking me to be early today.”

“Ah, I see, hot sex with the wife.” You replied wiggling your eyebrows Natasha rolled her eyes slapping your shoulder playfully.

“Jealous much?”

“Humph, please, why would I be jealous of her or you?” You winced noticing the smirk on the other woman's face.

“Perhaps because I am getting some while you're still dancing around Wanda?”

“Shut up.” You tried to cover your blush, but it was too late.

Natasha knew you well enough to know she was right. You dipped your head to the side, your eyes finally finding the woman you had been looking for. Natasha stood by your said leaning in she let her words sink in making sure the seed of longing was well-sow inside your heart.

“There she is, smiling at you and her eyes lock on you. You should stop dancing around and go for it, Y/N, you two can be so happy if you just… Let go.”

Natasha stood to the side letting Wanda come right at you, just as you met the other woman half-way. Your heart leap inside your chest, with a horde of butterflies fluttering in your lower abdomen when Wanda sneaked her arms around you hugging you tightly. You fluttered your eyes closed enjoying the smell of her shampoo, the warmth of her body, and the overall affection she usually held in those green eyes for you.

“Hey, you're here early.” Wanda whispered, stepping back before turning to Natasha. “Hey, what do you think. Natasha? Did it meet your expectations?”

“It exceeds them, Wanda, I told you that. I have always thought you were good at this.” Natasha couldn't hold back her smile watching as Wanda stepped closer to you, not leaving a lot of space between the both of you.

“This is all thanks to Y/N,” Wanda turned to you smiling shyly at you when you grabbed her hand shaking your head while placing a single kiss on her knuckles.

“She is being modest; this is all Wanda's idea.”

Natasha rolled her eyes lifting a hand to stop the reply from Wanda.

“I knew you two were good for each other, I'm glad you guys are getting along just fine.”

Natasha kept the smirk on her face unfazed by your glare and Wanda's blush.

“Now, if you excuse me, my wife is waiting for me and your children are coming this way.”

You kept your glare in watching as Natasha left leaving you with a blushing Wanda who was looking everywhere but at you.

“Mommy!” Tommy came running until he was hugging Wanda tightly, Billy was also making his way to her but the other boy was slower with his eyes down.

“Hey, sweetie, how was school today?” Wanda heard Tommy with her eyes falling on Billy who was now sniffing seeking with his hand that of America.

“Hey, you didn't come by the classroom, where were you?” America asked you narrowing her eyes at you.

“Making sure everything was working okay.” You nodded to Billy who was standing closer to your sister. “Is he okay?”

“I think he is coming down with the flu or something.” America turned to Wanda and both of the crossed stares before America turned to you. “You guys stayed until late yesterday, I think that didn't agree with the little guy over here.”

“Oh, Billy, how are you feeling?” This time around Wanda knelt to look at her child who was now pouting.

“I'm fine.” But he sounded weak, with traces of a sour throat.

Wanda frowned turning to you then to America, with Billy sick it would be almost impossible to stay there. Tommy stood by the side glancing at the scene with a concern frown.

“Oh, baby I think we need to go home.” Wanda said standing up, she turned to you smiling apologetically.

Ever since that almost confession on Saturday, the both of you had had a hard time to actually be alone or get a nice conversation. Wanda had chosen that day because of the storytelling event; it would be the perfect moment for you and her to just do something different. Just the two of you.

“I think you're right.” You turned to America who could read you like a book, she rolled her eyes stretching her hand to you.

“I'll take care of it.”

You grinned hugging her tightly while whispering in her ear.

“Thank you, lil sister.”

“What…what are you..” Wanda started but you shrugged leaning closer to her, Wanda's breath caught in her throat when your hand sneaked inside her pocket and you grabbed the car keys in there.

“Let me take you, Tommy and Billy home.” You spoke. “You can go in the back and I can drive you home and to the pharmacy if needed.”

“You don't have to do it.” Wanda replied in a weak tone, though her heart tugged painfully at her chest.

“I know, I want to.” You turned to America. “Be careful and write me or call me. Don't be late.”

“Yes, yes, go on then, Billy really is not looking well.”

You knelt in front of the boy leaning in.

“Billy, can I carry you?”

Billy huffed grabbing America's hand, he glanced at you then at his mom, with a pout he nodded. You smiled thank him before picking him up in your arms, you turned to Wanda then fixing the boy in your arms letting your eyes go from Wanda to Tommy.

“Okay, let's go home guys, and once there we can make dinner and make sure Billy feels better, you like that plan, Tommy?”

“Yeah.” Tommy replied shyly grabbing Wanda's hand.

America watched as the four of you left the crowded field, she chewed on her lower lip think back on her conversation with Wanda for a moment she played with the idea of going with them but America decided against such an idea. She was being overprotective of her sister and the twins, she had come to love them and she would hate for them to be hurt in any way. The same went for you, America knew you were a fool sometimes, and even if you liked to make others think you were strong and untouchable in reality you were a romantic by heart, and a softy in general. America wished she could see the end of this growing relationship between Wanda and yourself for now she would need to be patient. With time the both of you would either stop dancing around one another or you would end up as good friends. America felt her phone vibrate and just as she was about to grab it she saw a woman with her phone out taking pictures of the road leading to the parking lot.

America frowned but before she could see what the other woman was interested in her phone rang and she pick it up with a smile.

“Hey Kate bear where are you at?”

__________________

The drive back home was filled with Tommy's babble about his day and what he and Billy had done with the rest of the class in the festival. You would glance to the trio sitting in the back of the car every once in a while, your questions directing Tommy to a new subject that would distract him from being overly concern for his brother.

It didn’t take too long for the twins to be put to bed; Wanda would fuzz around with you trying to hold her back while helping out Billy to get into bed after taking his medicine. Christine had been kind enough to provide the instructions, and a quick diagnostic based on the symptoms, with a promise to be there by the next morning. Wand was not sure how she could thank you for the attention, or what she did to earn your help and your affection.

The young woman leaned against wall; she was watching as you continued telling the story that was supposed to be shown that day to the rest of the students. Billy was drifting on and off to sleep while Tommy was listening attentively holding his dino plushie tightly against his chest. Wanda observed attentively to your gestures, the attention you pay to her children and how amazing you were being with them at all times.

Wanda knew at some point she had fallen for you.

“He doesn’t have a fever anymore.” Wanda blinked confused, she didn’t even notice when Tommy had finally fallen asleep or when you had stoop right in front of her.

“What?” You cocked a brow smiling at Wanda.

“Billy doesn’t have a fever anymore, are you alright?” Your whole face softened; your hand lifted to cup Wanda’s face. “He is going to be okay; you know? Some rest, and medication and he will be as good as new tomorrow.”

Wanda crossed her arms offering a weak smile, her thoughts had drifted away focusing in her relationship with you.

“Thank you, for being here.” She whispered leaning into your embrace, her face resting on your shoulder with her eyes closed.

“Hey, I don’t mind at all. I really love them, you know?” You whispered back, your words carrying with them a meaningful secret that Wanda was not yet ready to face.

At least, not that night.

“I know.” She straightened up, her face filled with unshed tears. “What do you say if we go for a cup of tea and watch something on the TV?”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea!” You grinned widely, following Wanda out of the twins room and into the kitchen.

It had become a routine to just fall into easy conversations about your day or hers, getting to know one another while sharing opinions on an specific topic. You loved it whenever you were able to rail Wanda up just by sharing a controversial opinion about something she liked, it was amusing to seer her eyes flame up and the words pilling out on her mouth while discussing and maintaining her point of view. That night could be like any other, if it wasn’t for the fact that you and she were dangerously close to one another, that Wanda had not stopped her casual touches on you or let her eyes drifted away from you for far too long. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were dying to just break the distance and kiss her they way you meant to kiss her last Saturday. The memory of that night still haunting you.

“That’s so no true!” She exclaimed hitting you with a pillow, you kept laughing lifting a protective arm to evade the pillow hits.

“It is!”

“How can you say they were on a break?!” Wanda huffed pointing to the TV in which you had paused Friends while making a face.

You lifted your arms, putting a leg on the sofa to face Wanda better. The tea had long been forgotten on the table, and Wanda was really looking offended at you though it was easy to guess she was quite amused by the whole discussion. It had been the only time during the afternoon and the evening that you could make her forget about her concerns, Billy had woken up twice now and while he didn’t have a fever, his throat and head had been hurting a lot.

“Look all I’m saying is that it was not clear, okay? Ross shouldn’t have slept with anyone no less than twenty-four hours after the ‘break’,” in here you made a quotation sign with your fingers, your lips tugging upwards, “but still, it felt like a breakup so really Rachel shouldn’t be complaining.”

“Now you’re just saying that to placate my wrath,” Wanda narrowed her eyes, you lifted your hands in a peace gesture shaking your head.

“Never.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, her lips finally breaking into a smile she had been holding back. You rested your head on your hand, your elbow on the back of the sofa; Wanda kept her eyes on the TV then turned to you.

“Do you think…” Wanda stopped thinking about her question, you dipped your head waiting for her to continue.

“What?” you asked curious.

“Do you think they should have ended up together?” The question came with a whisper, your eyebrows shoot up while you leaned back trying to catch the real question.

Wanda was not looking at you, instead of that she was playing with the hem of her shirt while waiting on your answer. You contemplated the possibilities that came with your answer, and what exactly was Wanda looking for. Without knowing exactly what you were getting into you cleared your throat straightening up to grab your mug filled with lukewarm tea.

“I think sometimes we do not chose who we fall in love with,” you kept your attention on your tea, out of the corner of your eyes you could see Wanda looking intently at you, “they were not good for one another the first time, and they had to work a lot in their relationship, but I think in the end they realized that love was not enough, you actually have to work for what you want and make sure that you do everything in your power to make it work.”

“My, Y/N that was quite deep.” Wanda teased though when you locked eyes with her you could see something else there.

You offered a weak smile chuckling, “I guess that’s experience, right?”

“I’m not sure, my own experience was…different.” Wanda replied wincing, you furrowed your brows but Wanda didn’t elaborate.

“And you, Wanda, do you think they should have ended up together?” You asked back, Wanda hesitated for a moment before sitting closer to you.

Your body went completely rigid, her hand rested softly on your knee and you could swear she was moving closer to you. Your heart was thumping so fast and so hard, you could almost make the tapping sound inside your ears, and you were pretty sure Wanda could hear it too.

“I think they gave themselves the chance to love again, and they found out that they really do work together.” Wanda’s voice was almost a whisper, and she squeezed your knee tenderly calling your attention and your eyes back to her face. “I think they should…be together, perhaps…hat time around everything will work out in their favour.”

You nodded leaning closer, “so, love is enough?”

“No, I think both of them are enough…”

You chuckled nodding while leaning closer as well, you could almost make out the shade of green in her eyes. How soft her skin looked, as well as the soft pink colouring of her cheeks and the timid smile on her puffy lips. Being this close to her was everything you had dreamt off for quite some time, and you knew the moment you close the distance you wouldn’t be able to kiss other lips or to think anything else but to try and make this woman happy. Wanda dropped her eyes to your lips then back to your eyes, she parted her lips and waited for you.

“Wanda…” You started but before you could close the distance, your phone rang.

You jumped startled, and Wanda just jerked away from you with her face a deep shade of red. You sought your phone while cursing lowly to the responsible for the interruption; your hand found your phone and soon you were glaring at the name of the screen. You lifted your face offering an apologetic smile that Wanda tried to return weakly.

“Hey, Hope, how you doing?” Your voice sounded strained, but you tried to pay attention to what your best friend was saying.

Wanda offered a weak smile before standing up and leaving you alone in the living room. She let her hands rested on the counter of the kitchen, closing her eyes she tried to regulate her heartbeat while making the mental image of you and your lips, of what almost happened.

“God, what am I doing?” She whispered knowing full well that all she wanted to do was to kiss you, to lean in and let your lips touch yours and perhaps forget all about the past and start living in the present.

Wanda placed a hand on her face, the memory imprinted in her mind smiling softly until you appeared in the kitchen clearing up your throat. By the look in your eyes, Wanda could teel you were leaving.

“Sorry, Hope was trying to help me out with something, and now it seems I will need to go.” You lifted a hand to scratch the back of your head, your eyes wandering around until the fell on Wanda. “But if you need anything at all…”

“I…I will call you, don’t worry.” Wanda tried to hide her disappointment but she couldn’t, you approached her taking her face in your hands.

The young woman gasped with her eyes going big, she leaned forward into your touch with anticipation. You gulped wanting nothing more than to kiss her, to finally close the distance and offer a chance to her and to you. But you stopped yourself before you could do something that you both regret; you kissed Wanda at the corner of her lips, lingering just enough to enjoy the soft touch before stepping back.

“I think we need to talk before we give in.” You offered a weak smile, and Wanda nodded trying to return the smile.

“Yes, I think we should.” The conversation she held with America that day fresh in her mind.

“I will like for you to be my date tomorrow, Wanda.” You couldn’t stay any longer, but you needed to know that tomorrow would be the day.

Wanda blinked chewing on her lower lip, “but we are chaperones and…”

“And you can still be my date and give me one dance, right?” You asked pouting lightly, Wanda melted right away fully aware of what you were asking of her.

“Yes, I will be your date and we…we will talk, right?”

“Right, then…see you tomorrow, Princess.” You stepped back almost falling on your ass, you chuckled and Wanda just rolled her eyes. “Call me if Billy needs something, see you.”

Wanda put her hands on her face, the scene of moments ago still replaying in her mind knowing full well that it would haunt her all through the night the same way that her almost kiss with you on Saturday made her spent a sleepless night. Wanda opened her eyes looking at the lonely kitchen, her heart jumping in her chest at your words.

Tomorrow would be another day, and this time around neither you nor her would let the conversation and the tension to go unsolved. Whatever this was about, you and Wanda were done playing the game.

And this was something that scared and excited Wanda to no end.

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Next Chapter: Wanda and Reader finally close the distance, America and Kate kiss, and someone had been watching the pairing closely forming a plan to bring everything to a fatal end.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader

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