#they know that no matter what their problem is the cops would write it off bc theyre 'crazy'

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

manmade monsters Sun/Moon au. bc i have no self control lol

i also mentally call it the 'why are there giant robot monsters in my shed' au lol

idk what else to say so uh. enjoy

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

The Facade of You

I wanted to write him off putting and cocky at the same time, but that sure is a fine line. Reader is a bit of a spitfire when they probably should keep their mouth shut. (And I love that) ~2.3k words

When the Arkham Knight wants something, he gets it. Driven. Focused. Torrent in his mission and desires. You knew it from the moment you met him. Knew it the second you swung the aluminum baseball bat at his head, and he stopped your swing without even a flinch.

This was going to be a problem. Well, more of a problem than it already was.

Most of Gotham had evacuated because of whatever insane plan Scarecrow had crafted. Most, but not all. You had shored yourself up in your apartment, ready to ride out whatever happens from the comfort of your own home.

Was it the smartest decision? Maybe not. But you had survived blizzards in July, streets lined with living plants, and some guy who liked to run around hosting tea parties while wearing a top hat. So, you think you could be forgiven if you thought you could handle some threats of fear gas and anarchy.

And honestly, you probably could have. If not for the figure wearing armor worth more than your whole apartment breaking through your window.

On any other day, you probably would have screamed at the sight of the stranger standing in your living room. But tonight, there's no neighbors to call the cops, no vigilantes with time to spare patrolling the streets to hear you cry for help.

So you swung. Swung your bat right for his weird, glowing helmet with all your strength.

His fingers caught and curled around the metal before you even registered him moving. Everything seemed to go still, your instincts practically screaming at you to flee. You didn't need to see his face to know that he's smirking at you, head tilting like what you did was interesting, but pointless.

The silence stretches as you try to tug the bat from his hold, but the man doesn't even seem to move. No, he only starts to laugh at you, laughs like this is the last he expected, like the entire situation is ridiculous.

It draws a scowl to your face. So what if he's covered head to toe in armor and weapons? He broke into your apartment to what? Revel in your misery? Make fun of you? And you're just supposed to take that?

You open your mouth to confront him, to demand answers, when he laughs again, low and still full of disbelief, "Of course, of course you're still in this damned city. I shouldn't be surprised. Always in places you shouldn't be, aren't you."

He punctuates his words with a low, long drawl of your name, the letters falling off his tongue and through the modulator of his helmet as if he's said them a million times.

He drops his hold on the bat, but it hardly matters when your own grip starts to slack at the sound of your name, "Who are you," You demand, every hair on edge as the stranger starts to pace your apartment, almost as if he's looking for something to occupy himself with.

"You aren't supposed to be here, you know," he murmurs, picking up a framed photo, "It's not part of the plan. But I suppose I'm to blame for not expecting this of you."

You step forward, anger clouding your better judgment at the sight of him picking over your things like they're his own, "Put that down."

He turns his head towards you, lifting the photo to your field of vision, "This? It's hardly important."

You grit your teeth at the sight. It is important. More than he could possibly understand. Yours and Jason's smiling face shines from the picture behind the glass, your figures illuminated by the rare summer sun Gotham gets. It's one of the only pictures you have of him, some of the only evidence he was ever in your life.

You lunge forward without warning, dropping your bat in a bid to grab the frame. He easily side steps your desperate attempts. Something seems to shift in the air as he practically purrs, "whoops," and drops the photo from between his fingers.

The breath leaves your lungs as the glass shatters, leaving the photo in a pile of shards and broken wood. Your gaze snaps back to him, outraged, "Who do you think you are? How dare–"

"You can call me The Arkham Knight," he cuts in simply, stepping on the shards– on the photo of Jason– like it's less than nothing.

"What do you want," You hiss, biting back insults over how insane you think he sounds. You match his step forward with your own backward motion, keeping space between you.

"To make Batman pay," he drawls, honest and never slowing his steps towards you, even as you rapidly run out of space between you and the wall.

You shift your free hand to your pocket, trying to fumble for your phone without him noticing, "Then why are you here? I'm not Batman."

He finally stops stalking your every step as your back hits the wall, lingering only an arms length away from you, "No," he relents, "You're not Batman. But he does feel responsible for you."

"He feels responsible for everyone," You protest, fingers tapping blindly across your phone. Your voice shakes, even as you try to hide it. But it's hard not to be intimidated by the man towering over you, by the unblinking whites of his mask shining on your face.

He sighs, like whatever game he's playing suddenly went dull, "It's a shame you were here. Really. It would have been better if you'd left the city."

You press send on your phone. At least, you hope the (ideally) coherent message you're trying to get to Babs without seeing is sending, "Are you going to kill me?"

He recoils like the idea repulses him. It's the first bit of proof you've gotten that he even has feelings outside of whatever front he's been putting up. But he settles back into that lazy, uncaring pose, nodding towards your pocket, "Go ahead, sweet thing. Call Barabra. Call Dick. Call Bruce, even. They won't help you. Even if it wasn't such a busy night, you've never been their priority."

You tense, frozen under his unwavering gaze and the revelation of his words. His jabs don't bother you. He's clearly trying to get under your skin. But, he– The Arkham Knight– knows. Your mind races as your breathing shallows. He knows about Batman– everyone. But how much does he know? How much could he know? Their identities, that secret, it always felt untouchable.

It nearly makes you tremble. Is that why he's here? To get back at them somehow through you? It hardly makes sense if it's true. Jason's the one that cared about you– that wanted you to be okay.

His words feel like a trap. The idea that he wants you to call for help is just another game he's letting you play. But you pull out your phone anyway, your eyes never really leaving him even as you dial a number with trembling fingers.

The line rings. And rings. Then, "Hi, it's Barbara–"

"Babs, I need–" You start, only to be cut off by the continued message.

"I can't answer the phone right now, but leave a message after the tone, and I'll be sure to get back to you!"

Your heart drops, and you don't get the chance to consider your options before the Arkham Knight is plucking your phone out of your hands to end the call. He tosses your only hope of getting help towards your couch.

His voice is mocking, when he speaks again, "See? They can't even save themselves. How could you think they'd bother with you?"

"Why are you here," You ask instead, desperate to ignore the growing pit in your stomach, the fear creeping up your spine.

He hums, and reaches up to grab your chin, turning your face this way and that to study you. "A lapse in judgment. Curiosity. A weakness for the past. It hardly matters," he mutters, more for himself than you, "What matters is what to do with you."

"You could leave me here," you suggest quickly, grabbing at his wrist to keep him still, "Pretend you never saw me. I won't get in the way. I'm– I'm no vigilante. I won't be any trouble."

He scoffs, dropping his hand from your face, "This city would eat you alive. You can't handle what's coming."

"And what's it to you," You snarl, sounding braver that you feel and driven by the annoyance course through your veins. You're more than capable of taking care of yourself. (Just not necessarily against military trained rouges)

That seems to snap him to attention, and you regret your words immediately. You've essentially given him a reminder that you mean as much to him as the photo he left broken on the floor. And if he wanted to send a message to Batman, it would be easy to start with you.

"It's nothing to me," he hisses back, but even the modulator in his helmet doesn't hide the tightness– the near lie– of his voice, "You're in over your head, doll. If anything, you should be grateful I'm showing you the truth."

Your blood runs cold, your tone sharpens, and your eyes narrow. He doesn't have the right. Jason's the only one that's ever nicknamed you doll. His eyes always seemed to shine when he said it. "Don't call me that," You warn, words dripping with malice.

He honestly snorts at you, unimpressed by your threat, "What's wrong, doll? Hit a sore spot?"

You throw yourself at him, aiming a fist for his dumb helmet as your heart pounds in your ears. If he's going to make an example of you, use you against Batman, you're not going to lay back and just let him pick at your wounds.

He catches you like he expected it, hauling you into the air as you scream obscenities and curses, kicking and hitting your fists against his armor until he dumps you unceremoniously onto the couch. You scramble for your discarded phone, and he's quick to pin you down, his knee braced to your stomach to keep you from moving as he knocks your phone out of reach.

He huffs as if this is just a minor setback, reaching down to fix the wrinkles forming in your clothes every time you struggle, "And here I thought you liked being called doll."

"Not by you," You practically spit, all rationally thrown out the window as you continue to squirm. You bring your nails up to his arm, trying to dig into any weak spots in his armor for a chance to escape, to make him hurt.

"Only by me, sweet thing," he coos, and your world stills to a halt as he clicks the faceplate of his helmet back.

Jason Todd is grinning at you. It's not quite right. His eyes are wilder than you remember, his smile too forced, too tense. There's more scars across his skin than you recall there being. A stark white brand stands out on his cheek. But it's him. Undeniably him.

"Now where'd all your fight go," he questions, fingers trails up to rest on your throat, "no need to look all surprised, doll."

All you can offer is his name falling from your lips, eyes wide, and face shell-shocked.

He tuts, fingers flexing ever so slightly against your pulse, "Is that really all you have to say?"

"They told me you were dead," you choke out, unable to fight the tears threatening to well in your vision.

"They lied," he says simply, as if that answers anything. He lifts his hand from your throat to press his thumb against your lower eyelid, the light pressure forcing your tears to spill onto the fabric of his glove.

"Jason–" You try again, wanting answers, comfort, anything you can latch onto.

He only shushes you, "I don't blame you, sweet thing, for falling for it. That's just what they do. They lie. Change the narrative to fit their twisted perceptions. But I'll help you. I'll tell you everything you need to know. All you need to do, is come with me."

It's a bad idea. You feel it down to your bones. Jason, your Jason, isn't the one digging his knee into your stomach, isn't the one collecting your tears on his glove like they're a trophy. But he is Jason, and he's only ever done what's best for you. So going with him has to be right, has to be what you're supposed to do.

You nod. What else could you do? How could you even think to deny him when his face lights up in the shadow of how he used to smile at you?

He stands, and it takes every bit of strength you have not to surge forward and beg him not to when he clicks his helmet back shut. The Arkham Knight– Jason– offers you a hand, and you don't need a second thought to take it.

You shouldn't. You really shouldn't. He said it himself, he didn't plan for you to even be here. But his grip is steady in yours, and he keeps turning his head to check on you as he leads you across your apartment and to the window.

Relief clouds your mind, the idea that everything could be okay as long as he's back. So you follow him, don't ask questions even as he leads you down the fire escape and towards a suspiciously armored truck.

You don't press, even as he barks orders at the driver that's dressed more like a soldier than a chauffeur.

You let him tell you that you made the right choice. That he's going to fix all of this, that you being here will help in the end. You let him guide you through Gothams ruined streets, far away from your home, from where the memory of him is shattered on the floor.

And if you left your phone ringing over and over again on your couch in a frantic attempt to reach you, you're far too blinded by the echo of the boy you're chasing to care.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Here's a little "nobody knows we're back together" ficlet that I definitely didn't write while avoiding the prompts in my inbox.😅🙊

---

"Buck! Where are you? I've been banging on your door for the last fifteen minutes, your neighbours are going to call the cops on me soon." Chim said when Buck finally answered his phone.

"Chim? What's going on?" He asked, still half asleep.

Two minutes ago he'd been warm and comfortable, asleep in Tommy's arms, planning on enjoying the fact neither of them had anywhere to be for the next three days, and now his brother in law was yelling at him over the phone.

"What's going on is that I'm outside your door and I need you to open up before I get arrested for disrupting the peace."

"That's not a thing." Buck mumbled as he reluctantly untangled himself from Tommy's grip and looked around for something to wear.

He put the call on speaker as he pulled a hoodie over his head and was vaguely aware of Chim telling him it was most definitely a thing while putting on a pair of sweats that may or may not be his.

"Where are you going? Come back to bed." Tommy mumbled, reaching out for him. His hair was a mess and there were pillow creases in his cheek, but Buck thought he'd never looked better.

"Someone's at the door. I'll be right back." he leaned down for a kiss and only just managed to resist the urge of letting his boyfriend pull him back into bed with him.

"Hurry back."

"Yeah, I'll get rid of him and then I'm all yours."

"I can hear you, you know." Chim's voice came through the phone. "And will you just open the damn door already?"

"I'm coming, relax." Buck mumbled and dropped a kiss in Tommy's hair before making his way down the stairs. He hoped whatever Chim's problem was, would be an easy fix and he'd be back in Tommy's arms soon.

They'd been back together for a few weeks now, after Buck had finally decided to call Tommy, and then show up on his doorstep when he hadn't answered.

They'd yelled and cried until they'd both been exhausted and collapsed into bed together for the best night's sleep either of them had had since the break up.

The next morning they'd decided to keep things to themselves for a while, to actually enjoy dating and getting to know each other without friends and family getting involved.

As far as he knew nobody suspected anything, though that could be changing soon.

Buck rubbed the sleep from his eyes and opened the door.

"Finally! Your neighbour from down the hall is this close to calling the cops on me." Chim held up his thumb and pointer finger, barely an inch apart, as he walked into the loft, followed by Jee-yun who was holding onto his other hand, looking unsure of what was going on.

"What? Which one?"

"Does it matter?"

"No I suppose not." Buck mumbled, closing the door behind Chim. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? I'm here to drop off your niece, who you agreed to watch today while both me and Maddie picked up extra shifts."

"Wait, what? When did I agree to that? Why are you working an extra shift?"

"I don't know, the second child that's on its way maybe? Or the family trip to Korea we've got planned for next year? That I told you about. More than once."

"I... Uh... Yeah... Ok... Right."

And whoever you've got up there can either leave or get down here and deal with you watching your niece." Chim said, raising his voice slightly and yelling up the stairs." I heard you talking to someone so don't try the there's no-one there thing."

Buck sighed.

There was no way Chim was going to let this go. And if he was, Jee would tell him or Maddie by the time they came to pick her up.

"Babe, are you awake? Just put some clothes on and get down here a minute."

"Babe? You call your hook up babe?" Chim asked but Buck ignored him.

They heard the bed creak and there was some shuffling upstairs.

"I think I've got your sweats, just grab mine." Buck called out and did his best to ignore the looks Chim was giving him.

"You've got a guy up there? Well good for you, getting back out there after Tommy. You're not getting out of babysitting though."

Buck gave him a slight shrug and just kept watching the top of the stairs.

He could tell the exact moment Tommy came into view and Chim recognised him without even watching either of them.

Tommy slowly walked down the stairs, still half asleep, and wearing Buck's clothes. He gave Chim a half wave as he shuffled past him and over to Buck.

"Morning." he pressed a dry kiss to Buck's lips and then turned to face Chim. "Morning Howie. I hope you'll forgive me for not giving you a good morning kiss, I haven't brushed my teeth yet."

"But you will kiss me before brushing your teeth?" Buck teased and Tommy tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

"I think we both know I've done a lot more than that without brushing my teeth and you didn't seem to mind."

Buck laughed a little but decided not to argue with him.

"When did this happen? When did you get back together? Are you back together?"

"We are." Tommy confirmed, slipping an arm around Buck's waist and sleepily resting his head on his shoulder.

"We got back together a few weeks ago but we wanted to keep it quiet for now." Buck explained. "But I guess everyone will know within the hour now."

Chim looked at them, trying to process the information, until suddenly the loud music from one of Jee's favourite shows started blaring through the loft.

Buck kind of regretted teaching her how to work his TV.

"I... You... But..." Chim stammered then focused on Tommy. "Wait... When you blew me off last week when I wanted to take you out to karaoke..."

"I had plans with Evan."

"I can't believe it." he mumbled and turned to Buck. "But you're still baking."

"We bake together. And some of the stuff I've brought in the past few weeks was store bought." Buck explained. "We just wanted to enjoy being together without everyone else getting involved. I'm just... tired of everyone telling me what to do or what I feel. I want to be with him, I love him."

Tommy lifted his head and smiled.

"I love you too." he said and the two of them shared a kiss.

"I... am happy for you guys." Chim settled on. "and you're going to tell me exactly how and when this happened." he gestured to the two of them. "But I'm running late for my shift and we need the money so..." he trailed off and quickly walked over to Jee. "Sweetheart, daddy has to go to work now, ok? You be good for your uncle Buck and uncle Tommy."

Jee nodded, barely paying attention to her father, eyes fixed on the TV screen. Chim kissed the top of her head and turned back to Buck and Tommy.

"Maddie will pick her up after her shift. She'll text you when she's on her way." he told them, making his way to the door. "You owe me a drink and a night of karaoke, Kinard."

"Sure. Text me. We'll pick a date."

"Sure. If you think you can fit me in between work and making out with my brother in law." Chim joked. "Ok I have to go. Have a good day guys, and please don't traumatise my daughter." he laughed and walked out the door, only to come back in right away. "Don't think this means you can elope when you get married. I need to see you all dressed up and standing up in front of everyone. Just so I can remind you I got you together." he paused and looked at Tommy. "Just don't give him a clipboard."

[writingwithcolor]

Diversity Win: Is "Crazy Rich" POC Representation Necessarily Empowering?

sodapopsculptor asked:

I’m writing a story with two sets of protagonists: A trio with a Black girl, a Latino, and a Vietnamese-American boy who all come from middle-upper class to ridiculously rich families, and a pair of white working-middle class sisters. They’re all heroes of this story. I’ve seen way too many rich white people and poor poc people in fiction, and I’m kinda getting sick of it, but I’m worried that by having the poc kids be rich and the white girls not so much, I’ll be reinforcing the idea that poc somehow rule the world. The only time the rich kids use their status as leverage is when the Asian threatens to sic his cop dad on a bully (race unstated but I imagined him as white) picking on a freshman, and during the Black girl’s birthday party, when she pays the biggest jock there fifty bucks (And later says offhandedly that it was just what she had in her pocket) to chase off a creep hitting on her.

OP, have you ever seen the “diversity win!” meme before?

I understand that your motivation for these narrative choices is to give POC a chance, if you will, to be the rich characters. But it is evident from this ask that you have not asked yourself what this entails. I want to ask you to critically examine the race and class intersections you’re creating here, as well as these kids’ roles in oppressive systems.

You explain that these rich POC are heroes and only have righteous reasons for leveraging their power.

But is your Black girl character aware of the potential disciplinary and/or legal consequences her jock accomplice might face while she has the resources to keep her hands clean? Are you?

Is your Asian character aware of how much of an abuse of power it is to “sic” a cop on someone, and the sheer amount of harm a criminal record or incarceration does to a juvenile with behavior issues? Are you?

So you want to put POC in positions of power for #representation.

Does it resonate with the group you’re representing?

Do you research and portray the unique ways race, ethnicity, class, and majority vs. minority status come together?

Or are you putting these characters in oppressive hegemonic roles for the sake of a power fantasy, on behalf of a group you're not even in?

To your question, you're not reinforcing the idea that "POC rule the world" because such a generalized belief does not exist. Instead, you're reinforcing:

The idea that society has “winners” and “losers.”

The idea that the problem with disproportionately powerful people is the lack of “equal opportunity” as opposed to the power imbalance to begin with.

The idea that those in oppressive positions of power need only have the right intentions to justify their use of it.

To be clear: that is not to say that you can't have jerk aristocrat billionaire millionaire crazy rich POC. Evil or mean rich characters are fun! I have some myself! You can even have rich characters who are gentle-hearted and well-intentioned, but you have to know the ways in which they’re privileged and decide how aware of that your characters are. That’s no problem.

But if you think that wealthy and powerful POC would have the same values and priorities as their poorer counterparts, you’re deluding yourself. There’s a reason why the quote “power corrupts” exists. There’s a reason why no matter where you look on the globe, there are historical dictators and tyrants.

If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.

~ Rina

I fully agree with Rina, and truly want to emphasize the last paragraph.

If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.

I don't think you need to aim to subvert or purposely make all the BIPOC rich and powerful and the white people poor and suffering. Add diversity and include upper class rich and class privileged BIPOC, sure thing! And you can avoid your fears of intentional subversion message by including rich and powerful white characters as well, even if they're not the focus of your story. Just their existence helps. You could also include middle-class characters of Color as well.

More reading: Black in upper-class society

~Mod Colette

[dilfstar]

ONLINE LOVE !

brother!leon x sister!reader 4.3k words. warnings ! incest, piv, rdr n leon r both idiots, insecure n loser!rdr :] dubcon, somno, breeding notes ! gigi loser w no job and mostly online friends :( sorry this took so long 2 write i was trying not 2 kms 😛

The high pitched ping from your computer let you know he finally replied to your message. Almost an entire day later… It’s whatever! He’s probably just busy, right? There's no way he's already tired of you… Right?

You ran over to your desk, slipping on a random sock on the floor, bumping into the corner of a nearby end table. You looked down at the aching spot, already seeing the beginning of a bruise appear. “Damnit, Leon! Learn how to clean your shit!”

The chair squeaked as you sat down, floorboards groaning when you rolled closer to the desk. Your eyes focused on the screen, the spinning loading wheel making you want to scream. “Hurry up…” Your thumb was between your teeth while you anxiously watched the screen, eyes lighting up the second your messages with him loaded.

lskndy98 : hey! sorry i took so long :( work has been kicking my ass heh… dollstar : omg no problem :) i totally get it ! what’s ur job if u don’t mind me asking?  lskndy98 : im a cop. i work at the local precinct. not the best job… but it pays well! dollstar : omg no way??? ur lying! my brothers a cop too LOL

The conversation went on for hours. You were in love with a guy you’ve known for a little more than week. A guy you met in some random chatroom. A guy that could be a serial killer for all you know! It’s whatever. Doesn’t even matter, does it? He’s hot enough. At least his body is… He hasn’t exactly shown you his face. Which makes sense… Was this weird? This was weird. Imagine if your friends found out! Or even worse– Your brother.

Leon would never let you live this down. He’d call you a freak, a loser. Fucking asshole. He’s the loser and freak. Not you! He’s the one that spends all his free time holed up in his room… on his computer… talking to people online… Okay, maybe you two weren’t so different, but it doesn’t matter. You’re better than him!

Sure he was older and he had a job and he was your parents favorite. But, what does that matter? You actually have friends and someone that likes you. You: 1. Leon: 0.

Maybe… just maybe. You were a loser too. You didn’t even know this guys name and you wanted to marry him? Yeah. You’re as lame as Leon. Worse even. He had a steady income! You had nothing.

The knocking on your door frame snapped you out of your thoughts, head whipping around to face whoever was bothering you. The sight of Leon instantly made you want to vomit. “What do you want? I’m clearly busy.”

He scoffed at your words, pushing off the wall with a grunt, face twisted into one of annoyance as he walked over to you. The look was immediately wiped away when he got closer. Explicit messages covered your computer screen. He laughed at you. He actually laughed at you!

“No way… You're flirting with some random guy? How long have you even known him?” He leaned over you, practically on top of you as he stared at your screen. Your hands moved as fast as possible to click out of the tab. Your cheeks were burning with shame, the thought of shooting yourself seeming more and more appealing with each second.

“It’s… It's none of your business! Go away!” You pushed him back, getting out of the crappy office chair to shove him out of your room. Why did he have to come in and see all of that? Idiot, idiot, idiot was all that repeated in your head. All thoughts clouded with pure embarrassment at your worst enemy finding out you were sexting some random dude on the internet.

Leon, on the other hand, felt like he was about to vomit. You were really talking to some dude you didn’t know? Yeah, sure, he was talking to some girl he didn’t know… but it was different! This girl wasn’t just using him for nudes like the guy you were talking to was. You didn’t deserve that. You deserved someone good. Someone that could take care of you. Leon could do that for you. If he wasn’t your brother. Don’t be weird!

His jealousy was normal, right? It was just a big brother being worried about his sister. Nothing more. So what if he felt sick about some loser messaging you, talking about fucking you. He’s just being protective, yeah?

You spent forever taking pictures for him. All kinds of unnatural angles and poses to show off your body in a flattering way. Tits squeezed into the tightest bra possible. You didn't even look like yourself. Good.

It was pathetic, really. Trying to impress a guy whose face you haven't even seen. What would your parents say if they saw you like this? They'd laugh at you just like Leon did. Maybe everyone was right about you being a loser. No job, no school, only friends are people you met online… This guy would change everything though! He has to!

Each picture was worse than the last. Wrong angle, bad lighting, face in it. He couldn't see you. Not yet. It had to be the perfect moment! (When you two got married and he couldn't back out!)

After another hour, you finally got it. The perfect picture to send. One that made you look like some edited catfish on instagram… but all natural! With a few quick swipes, you opened the messages between the two of you, uploading the photo as fast as your shitty internet would allow.

Your thumb hovered over the send button, refusing to just inch forward and press it, an invisible force field blocking you from sending the photo. “It's just a body pic… What's the worst he could say?” The words barely audible as they fell from your lips, your thumb hitting the screen soon after.

Dots appeared a few seconds later, disappearing just as fast as they appeared. This went on for what felt like an eternity only for his message to be something stupid. Something so incredibly lame and stupid. “Nice. 👍”

Nice.

Nice.

He said “nice” to a picture of you in next to nothing. Who says that? Is he stupid? He has to be… Why else would he reply like that?

You frowned at the screen, the thoughts in your mind becoming increasingly negative with each second. Maybe you weren't as pretty as you thought. Maybe you gave him the ick. Maybe you-

It doesn't matter. He’s just a random dude you met online. You’ve never even seen his face! So what if he thought you weren't hot? He's probably some sleazy neckbeard that scrolls reddit all day. Whatever.

Ding!

lskndy98 : fuckkkk lskndy98 : just came so hard lskndy98 : you wanna see? lskndy98 has sent you an image!

Oh. Oh. He was big. His hand could barely wrap around his cock. Cum dripping down the side of it and onto his hand… All because of you.

You were speechless, every single thought that was running through your head vanished. So he did think you were hot! A hot guy thinks you're hot! 

Okay, so you don't exactly know that he's hot… but he is big. It counts, right? Whatever. You're the reason there’s cum dripping down his thick cock. Someone thought that your body was worth something! All of that time spent getting the right angle was so worth it now!

dollstar : omg 0____0 dollstar : was tht rlly bcus of me?? dollstar : ur making me blush… <3

You couldn't stop staring at the picture, everything else being blurred out, your mind entirely focused on him. The phone slipped into your hand, holding the picture close to your face as the other one slipped down into your underwear. A soft sigh escaped you the moment your fingertips made contact with your clit.

You could feel the pleasure crawling through your veins, your breathing suddenly becoming ragged and heavy. Each brush of your fingers made you dizzier than before. All ability to process your surroundings flew out of your head.

Knock, knock, knock.

You dug your teeth into your lip, not hearing the heavy beating on the door. Your mind was in such a haze you failed to notice Leon standing in your doorway staring directly at you until it was too late. A loud shriek bounced off the walls and into his ears as a throw pillow came flying at his face. 

“Get out! Get out! Fucking perv…!” Any previous sexual feelings you had jumped out of you the second you saw your brother’s face. How long was he standing there? Why were you related to such a creep…

The air in the room was heavy once you finally stepped into the kitchen, an awkward, ashamed look was plastered on your face as you approached Leon. 

“...Hey.” Hey? That's the best you could come up with?

“Uh, sorry about… earlier. You weren't meant to see that. Let's just try to forget about it, yeah?” Simple enough for him to understand. At least you hoped it was.

All he did was nod at you, barely acknowledging your presence. He stayed glued to his phone, turned slightly away from you. 

“Hello? I’m talking to you, asshole.” You stepped towards him, turning him around to face you, absentmindedly looking down and making eye contact with the very obvious bulge in his pants. Oh.

It was as if time froze. Your eyes were locked onto his dick, like it had its own pair and was battling you in a staring contest. This could not be happening. Your older brother, the guy you’ve fought with for years, was hard for his own sister. Disgust overtook your body as you ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before puking your guts up.

How could he do that to you? What kind of sick freak gets hard for his little sister? It felt like millions of tiny bugs were crawling over your skin, the taste of vomit resting on your tongue as you hid in the bathroom with the door locked. What about all those years together growing up? Eugh, did he feel like this back then too?

You stared at the door for what felt like hours, waiting until it felt safe enough to leave and go back to your room. Carefully, you twisted the doorknob, tip toeing on the wooden floors to get to your destination. 

You flipped the lock on your door as soon as you got in, making sure he couldn't try to peep on you. The only comfort you had was the hot, faceless stranger on your phone even though he was just words on a screen. God, your life really was pathetic. The only guy that's ever been interested in you probably lived across the country and your freak of a brother wanted to fuck you. 

Your back was against your door as you messaged whatever he was to you. To make things worse, you two still haven't decided on what you were. Each new thing that you realized only seemed to make your night worse. Maybe you weren't meant to be happy or enjoy your life. You were probably some sort of monster in a past one and this was just karma finally getting you back.

dollstar : hey… you there? dollstar : could use some company dollstar : lol lskndy98 : what's up??

The only thing that was able to comfort you was venting to your eboyfriend about everything that was wrong in your life without fully going into detail about just how horrible it was. He can know your brother sucks without knowing why… There's no need to drive him away just yet.

The next few days were filled with you thinking about how to approach Leon. You couldn't let this situation stay like this forever, you had to work something out with him. But every time you tried coming up with something, you got too scared to talk to him. What if it happened again?

After taking a few shots to loosen yourself up, you made your way to his room, gently knocking on the door. It creaked open, giving you a nice view of his bedroom and the door to his bathroom. You’re not sure why, but it felt like something was pulling you in towards the bathroom, putting you under a trance to take a peek inside. I mean, it's not like it’ll hurt anyone to snoop through his things. He's probably not even in there!

Your fingers wrapped around the knob, turning it even after hearing the shower running. There was no way for you to stop yourself, your body was moving on its own. You cringed as the steam hit you, immediately enveloping you in a gross, wet heat. The humidity in the room made you want to gag, distracting you from the main thing in front of you.

The vomit taste that's been resting on your tongue the past few days melted away as soon as you laid your eyes on his lean body in the shower. The way the droplets of water dripped down his toned abs made your thighs squeeze together.

No! No! He’s your brother for crying out loud! Don't be a gross pervert like him. 

Without saying anything, you left and went straight to your room. The whole thing shouldn't have been so… hot! You two were related for crying out loud. Connected by blood. It was wrong! But, it really turned you on, the taboo aspect of it sending a dangerous shock through your veins. 

A thought popped into your head, one that made you dispose of your clothes and crawl into bed, camera mode on your phone ready in your left hand. He’s in the shower, right? So, he shouldn't bother you for a bit… You have about an hour. Just enough time to make a certain someone a sweet video!

The moment the camera started recording you began touching yourself, dragging your fingers over your thighs, wincing softly but covering it with a moan when you pressed too hard on the bruise from earlier. The feeling that flowed through your body when you made contact with your clit set your skin on fire. Each touch already too intense for you to handle.

“You like that…? ‘ts all for you…” Well, kinda. Sure, most of it was for the guy you've been thirsting over for weeks, but a small, tiny part was from seeing your brother naked, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. He just looked so good. All that training at the academy and mornings at the gym really paid off. He had to be like, the hottest guy you've ever seen. Even if he was your brother!

He was big too. You only got a slight glimpse of it but it was the biggest you’ve ever seen. Though, it’s not like you’ve seen many. It looked heavy, like it’d hurt your mouth. Maybe that's why all the girls in school talked about him like he was a God. He definitely looked like one…

Another part of you wondered how he’d be in bed, even if it was gross to think about at first. Would he be gentle or rough? Would he make sure you came first? Or leave once he was done? Was he any good at it? You needed to know- No! Stop it! What's wrong with you?!

You fingers stop moving instantly, thumb pressing the stop recording button as you moved to sit up. How could you do this? Touching yourself to the thought of your brother… The guy that practically raised you. Something has to be wrong with you for you to find him hot enough to fantasize about.

Whatever, it's not like anyone will know. Just send the video and forget why you took it. Simple. Easy. Not hard at all. So why couldn't you move? Why was there a little voice in your head telling you not to send it to some stranger when there's a hot guy in your house? Fuck- Stop it!

You focused in on your phone, sending the video with a few pictures from before.

dollstar has sent lskndy98 an image! dollstar : hope u like it :p dollstar : thought of u the whole time… wish u cld help :(

Weird. He usually responds almost instantly… Maybe he's busy with work or in the shower or something. It doesn't matter, it's not something to worry over. None of this is anything to worry about. It's normal to feel like this once in your life, yeah? Yeah. It has to be. It’s too late to focus on anything that big anyways. As soon as your head hit the pillow you passed out, drifting off into a sweet dreamland filled with visions of you and your mystery man. 

Leon turned the hot water off, grabbing a white towel as he stepped out of the shower, wrapping it around his waist. His first instinct was to check his phone, see if anyone at work had called him. Nope! Just a message from his sorta girlfriend!

His eyes shot open as he clicked on the notification, being hit in the face with a video of her touching herself. For him! Her fingers looked so nice moving around her thi- Ouch, nasty bruise. Looks like the one his sister has… In the same place, on the same leg. Same shape and everything.

No, no, no, no. This was not happening, especially not after that night a few days ago. He stared at himself in the mirror, all color drained from his face, a sickly feeling creeping up on him.

Why did he have to be hard right now? He just found out the girl he's been talking to for weeks is his sister… He jerked off to pictures of her! 

He set his phone on the counter, leaning forward to try and stop the sudden dizzy spell and urge to vomit on all of his stuff. This was just a horrible nightmare, right? He would wake up tomorrow morning and forget all about it, go back to normal. But, you looked so cute all needy for him, even if you didn't exactly know it was him. One little listen to it couldn't hurt.

The first moan after he hit play hit him like a wrecking ball, sending a shock to his system as he listened to the video, hearing it bounce off the bathroom walls. Your little noises just sounded so pretty, he couldn't help how hard he was getting for you. 

“Leon!” The high pitched whine from the video almost made him short circuit. You said his name. Sorry, you moaned his name. You were thinking about him while touching yourself and you didn't even realize before you sent it! He couldn't hold it in anymore, he was gripping the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles were white. God, why would you do this to him?

He walked out of the bathroom, still dressed in only the small towel around his waist and his phone on the counter still playing the video of you. He made his way to your door, standing outside of it for what felt like a decade. Slowly, he twisted the doorknob, sneaking into the darkness. 

The close he got to your sleeping figure the more control he lost. You just looked so perfect… so soft. His hand crept towards your face, wiping away a small line of drool. He really shouldn't be doing this to you.

Leon crawled onto the bed, dropping the towel on the floor. He peeled back your blankets and pulled your panties down, mouth watering at the sight of your cute little cunt, all wet for him. It was like his fingers had a mind of their own as they moved through your slit, collecting your essence on the tips. He brought them to his mouth, groaning out in pleasure at the taste. Well, it's too late to stop now…

He inched closer, spreading your legs apart just enough for him to fit in between them. You looked so beautiful like this, only wearing a bra, eyes shut so peacefully, cunt exposed for your big brother. His thumb hovered over your clit, barely brushing against it. He was still too hesitant to fully dive in.

He took a deep breath as he began to circle your clit, watching the way your face twitched in your sleep as he touched you. “Yeah, jus’ like that…”

Each sound you made was pure heaven in his ears. Every little whine or moan made his heart threaten to jump out of his chest! He pushed two of his fingers into your needy hole, craving something inside of it. So easy, it was sucking him in. How desperate were you for some action?

He made sure to be gentle, not wanting to wake you up just yet. Each thrust of his fingers was so delicate, simply stroking your walls, as if he were trying to memorize them in exact detail. He might not get this chance again, so why not milk the most out of it? No pun intended.

Too engrossed in your pretty pussy, Leon failed to notice you beginning to wake up. Your eyelids fluttered open as the strange feeling down there started to mess with you. “Huh…? L…Leon? What are you-”

You gasped loudly, pushing him away as you scooted back to the headboard, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. “Fucking freak! Get out!” 

Why wasn't he more scared of getting caught? Why did he look so okay with this?!

He cooed at you, shaking his head as he crawled back over to you. “Not gonna do that, princess. I think we both know what you really want… Saw that video after all. Been trying not to think about you since that night I caught you. You're just making it too hard.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. All of the pieces slowly connecting in your head. Same age, same initials, same job. You’ve been almost dating your brother this whole time!

He used your confusion against you, pulling your body just enough to make you lay down, giving him an opportunity to pin your wrists onto the bed. “I think I deserve the real thing after you’ve been teasing me for months, don't you?” 

The moonlight pouring in through the window reflected off his teeth, only making his sinister smirk that much more intense. You should be terrified right now. Trying to push him off or scream for help, not dripping onto your sheets.

All you could do was nod, pouting up at him with a scared look in your eyes. You did want this… You just didn't know it would be with him.

He held both of your wrists with one hand, moving the other one back down to your pussy, resuming his actions from a few moments ago. His touch was different than anything you’ve ever felt before. All of the lame hookups you had in the past were nothing compared to this. Your fingers didn’t even feel this good! His were so thick and long… You already felt so full.

It wasn't even 3 minutes until you came, your big brother’s fingers working on you like some super powered vibrator. Your back arched off the bed, wrists burning as you tried to pull them out of his grip. It all felt too good, your nerves were on fire, all of it hitting you like a 90 pound weight.

You shuddered as he pulled his digits out of you, coated in your juices, shining under the moonlight. He wiped them on your sheets, trying to get back to you quickly. Gross.

He moved around, lining up the tip of his aching cock with your sensitive hole, teasing you a bit before pushing in slowly. His head fell forward, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tried not to scream. You felt so perfect around him, like you were made for him!

He released your hands, propping himself up on his forearms as he laid over you, slowly beginning to move. Soft groans and grunts fell from his pink lips. All of the prettiest sounds coming from the prettiest boy.

“Could’ve been doing this for so long… Fuck- Could've been making you feel good for such a long time… ‘m sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to you… Promise.” You could barely hear what he said, head too fuzzy to process anything other than the way the veins on his cock dragged along your walls.

It was all better than you could've imagined. All the stories you heard that you thought were disgusting at the time were true. He was a creepy, perverted asshole but he’s the best in bed. You’ve never felt more alive than now, stars appearing above your head as pleasure began to take over again.

“Leon, please!” You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in closer. Your thighs were around his waist, not giving him a chance to escape even if he wanted to. He rolled his hips into you, making sure to take his time instead of rushing things like he’d usually do with a girl.

“I know, I know. I’ve got you… Don't worry.” He mumbled it against your neck, leaving sloppy, wet marks behind as he moved all over your skin. You were his now, he had to make sure everyone else knew too.

He leaned into you harder as his pace got sloppier, his orgasm building up. He inhaled your scent as he came inside of you, filling you up like you were always meant to be. Leon almost collapsed on top of you, using the last bit of strength he had to roll the two of you over with him still inside.

“Sorry I woke you up… Jus’ had to make sure you knew who you were really talking to..”

[whackk-kermitt]

Dear PenPal

Prompt: Write a story that only consists of love letters. Warning: Fluff, No fire, Mention of homophobic Bullying, Mention of Bullying and Harassment, Shameless(steamy)flirting, some sexting(if you can call it that), Some Angst, happy ending Summary: Due to bullying and harassment at Beacon Hills High, the school board came up with the idea to randomly match each student with another and make them write letters talking about their experiences. At the beginning of the day, they will receive their letter, and by the end of the day have to turn in their response(Receiving a letter every other day) They've been asked to keep their letters anonymous.

Important(sort of): I saw a post where someone said high school au's portray Derek wrong because in high school Derek was completely whipped for Paige and I can't agree more. So soft mushy Derek for one, soft mushy Derek for all!!

Certain grammar mistakes are on purpose, these are handwritten letters I'm emulating here. Others. . .I'm just too lazy to proofread- I mean-THEY’RE ON PURPOSE!

≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪ Dear penpal,

I honestly don't understand why I'm being made to write about bullying and shit when I'm not the issue in this hellhole school. But Mr Harris said if I don't participate he's gonna knock points off my final grade. Does that count as bullying? I think he has it out for me.

Anyway, Jackson Whittmore is a jackass, and I'm comfortable blaming him for all my problems. If this is you Jackass, your daddy's money means nothing and you're pathetic.

Apparently, we're gonna have to deal with each other all year or until the superintendent gets bored and loses all interest in this project of his. I don't see this still being enforced past a month or two.

They don't want us telling each other our names or anything. which is stupid So I need something to call you. You can call me Batman!

Sincerely, Batman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Batman,

It doesn't matter to me whether we're writing to penpals all year, I'm out of here soon enough anyway. But it's a half-decent idea for kids to hear about bullying and what it can do to someone behind the curtain, it opens your eyes. Really makes you think about what you say to people before you say it. Some kid in my homeroom was excused because whatever his pen pal had confessed to him made him cry so hard I thought his eyes would pop out of his head.

As for Jackson Whitt-whore, I totally agree. He's never bothered me in particular, but he's laid into some friends of mine before and I wanted to rip his throat out with my teeth. I know I have some serious issues, but that guy has ISSUES.

If we're gonna deal with each other all year, or however long this lasts we might as well have some fun with it. Right??

Tell me some things about yourself..

Sincerely, Superman (the best dc hero)

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Superman,

Since um when? As cool as Superman is, batman is easily better by at least a hundred times!! Don't embarrass yourself, buddy.

Was it Greenburge?? I heard something about him crying like a baby down the hall lol

I don't know what to tell you without giving away who I am. I mean I'm pretty unnoticeable unless you know what to look for, and then I stick out like a sore thumb.

I like

comics

food

starwars

reading

reading about starwars

reading comics

the smell outside just after rain

watching garbage cop shows with my dad and making fun of all the shit they get wrong

dogs

curly fires (I mentioned food but curly fries are in their own category because they deserve it)

HATe

Jackson Whitt-whore good one

tinny annoying dogs

when I forget my clothes in the washer and they start to stink and I have to wash them again

sports (only because I SUCK) I like watching hate playing

people who think Superman is better than Batman

lack of personal space

derek hale

fake cheese ruining otherwise perfectly good nachos

What about you, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Batman,

First off, not really funny about Greenburge. I talked to him about it yesterday and the person writing to him confessed some pretty dark shit that's been said to them. Videos of them got posted online and how they get picked on in school and online by complete strangers. They mention how they were seriously depressed. (Although he does blubber like a baby, it was valid in this case.)

Second, what did Derek Hale ever do to you?

Lastly, I like:

Superman

Reading

Cooking

Basket Ball

Baseball

Comics as well

Family time

My sisters (don't tell them that)

The idea of traveling

Cats

I don't like:

People with zero work ethic

Bullies

People who hunt for sport

People who are dumb enough to think Batman outranks Superman

People who don't like sweets (can't trust them)

Dirt in between my tose

Mr Harris

Sincerely, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Superman,

Oh shit for real about Greenburge? damn. I feel sorry for whoever wrote him that letter.

Also derek hale is a douchebag jerk face. He used to tease the hell out of me but I guess he's mellowed out this year since everyone is talking about all the bullying and shit their penpals are confessing to.

I try not to hold grudges- dad says its not good for me- but I'm gonna hold onto this one. Derek hale can suck my big toe!

also dude it sounds like you just don't like people.. fair enough I guess I don't either but damn you do have issues

-batman

p.s sorry was in a rush, forgot to write until now school gets out in 5

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Batman,

Damn.

I'm gonna be out of town for a few days next week, don't sus out who I am while I'm gone.

Also yeah, I don't trust easily. You know the deal with broken hearts. Been burned too many times. But as a result, I love and hold onto people even harder now. So I guess it's a win-lose.

Are you gonna be at the game tonight? Scratch that, you won't get this until tomorrow. Hope you have fun, otherwise, enjoy whatever it is you're doing tonight.

Question: what do you wanna be when you grow up?

Sorry, I'm just trying to think of ways to get to know you better. You seem cool.

Sincerely, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Superman,

I seem cool? I'm legit a geek with like one actual friend. People just roll their eyes when I speak I roll them back but whatevr

You wanna get to know me cause im cute ;) or . . . you want to get to know me, so you can sus me out first, huh? Well, the race is on baby!

I haven't really thought about what I wanna be, most likely something in law enforcement. Aim high how about the FBI that would be sick!!

What about you tough guy? any big plans for life?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Batman,

I don't even know what you look like, how would I know if you're cute? You don't know what I look like, so you couldn't even say if I'm cute.

I haven't thought about it much either. Maybe I'll open a bookstore or even a bakery? I'm not sure, those are just two things I like pretty well. Might end up in the family business or as a mechanic.

It's kind of sad now that I think about it; I've never really considered what I am without my family. Whatever it turns out to be it won't be far from home, that's for sure. Hell, I'm down to be a stay-at-home dad even.

That sounds really nice.

Sincerely, Superman

P.S FBI is super cool

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Superman,

I think it's cute that you felt the need to defend yourself about thinking I'm cute. You so think I'm so cute, don't you??

I also think it's cute that you wanna be a stay-at-home dad. Not gonna lie- dads are hot. Sometimes. but like, dude-wife energy you know??

also, just an idea- might take some serious cha-ching- but if you owned your own bookstore cafe you could totally bring your little ones with you to work and it could become your very own family business

i can imagine Superman jr running around like he owned the place.

"do you know who my daddy is, he owns this place, he's Superman"

SUPERCUTE Get it??

Dumb joke never mind

if were on the topic of getting to know each other whats your deepest darkest secret??

-Batman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Batman,

Sure, Batman, you're cute. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

That's a nice idea though, I like it. Maybe I'll aim for that. I wouldn't mind having my babies grow up and take over a shop I built. Definitely need that "cha-ching" though.

Deepest darkest secret? We only just met, you gotta at least buy me a drink first.

I'm a werewolf.

Your turn Batman

Sincerely, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Superman,

you SOOO think i'm cute!! I'll buy you a drink anywhere anywhen.

Also ha ha ha, super funny. but if you don't tell me yours I'm not telling you mine. hmm, you do have trust issues so I guess it's only gentlemanly of me to do it first- even though I'm buying you a drink at some point now.

Um I'm finding comfort in hoping you never ever know who I am when I tell you this

I've been talking to this guy and I kinda like him. We don't really know each other all that well, but from what I do know, there's nothing I don't like. But I'm not stupid enough to fall for that trap again so I'm not gonna bother

Also also “my babies” you're fucking adorable.

-Batman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Batman,

Hope you didn't miss me too much while I was gone.

I know it's Friday and you won't see this until Monday but how have you been? Do you have plans over the weekend? What did you do over the weekend, I should say? I've been home the last three days so I'm itching to go out this weekend.

I'll be at the lacrosse game tonight, then I'll most likely hang out at the arcade with some friends tomorrow. Someone beat my high score on Pac-Man so I've gotta reclaim my crown.

Anyways, whats been up since I've been gone?

Sincerely, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Fuck you Superman

Not really sorry. I forgot you said you'd be gone for a few days and I thought for a while you ditched me.

Also, I was at the arcade on Saturday!! And just to let you know DRH your score was not hard to beat. Your crown is mine forever champ

What time were you there? What if we're were there at about the same time? Dude that's crazy! I was there at about 5ish and stayed for about two hours I think I don't really remember

-batman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Screw you STI,

I left about five o'clock and had to get home for dinner, so we just missed each other. I waisted nearly three hours trying to get my high score back! I finally did it!

And what happens when I go back after your letter yesterday? You're on top again! Screw you. All that time and money for nothing.

I don't know what made you think I'd ditch you before, but now I'm considering it. You are the reason I don't have nice things.

In your wise words, “suck my big toe”!

Sincerely, Superman

P.S your initials sound like damn std

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Haha Superman

Don't be such a sourwolf.

Be humble, dude. Nobody likes a sore loser. Its not my fault I'm better then you, I'm perfect.

But hey maybe if you calm down I can give you some advice. I am perfect after all I give the best advice. And I advise you to take me up of it for the sake of your wolvly-hood.

But if you insist on being a sore loser, I could give you a massage to work out the kinks. ;)

-love yours truly, Batman 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Batman,

“Sourwolf”? Really?

I regret telling you anything.

And don't think I didn't catch that last part. I had to hold it up to the light to see what you scribbled over but I saw it.

If you're so perfect why did you scribble out the shameless flirting? Not confident, hmm? If you're so perfect, why so shy, sti?

I think it’s cute, honestly. But I don't think you could take the heat. I think if we were face-to-face you'd be puddy in my hands. I think your mind would go blank and you'd revert to caveman lingo.

“Huh” “yeah” “mhmm” and a whole lot of grunting.

You're probably so hot under the collar right now you're not even reading this anymore. You're just thinking about us grunting a whole lot. I bet it's so easy to get under your skin.

I wonder what kinds of things you're thinking right now. I wonder if you'll go all day thinking about it. I wonder what you get up to when you're finally home alone.

You'll probably reread this letter over and over won't you, sti?

Can't wait to hear from you tomorrow.

Sincerely, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Holy shit dude

Warn a guy before you say things like that. I literally choked on air my friend thought I was having a panic attack

Jeez I don't even know what to say now

What the hell am I supposed to say?

Yeah you're probably right about when I get home tonight though, not gonna lie. Damn dude

We should meet I think..

-Batman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Batman,

Holy hell, I was joking before. Wasn't expecting you to actually get hot and bothered. Thought you were just gonna roll your eyes and fuck with me.

Dude you actually touch yourself?

Like you seriously went home and I don't even know what to say cause I'm not sure if the teachers read these before passing them on. I don't wanna get into trouble.

But I kinda wanna get into trouble.

I regret nothing, hot damn.

As flattered and curious as I am about meeting you in person, I don't think I want it to be just for sex. You know? Like you seem like such a good guy, I don't wanna waste all my time with you on just that.

I want you to like me more then that.

Sincerely, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Okay superman confession time I guess. Remember the letter I sent you before you took off? The guy I mentioned liking?

Sort kind of was you…

I said before I forgot you had mentioned not being in school for a few days, so when I never got a letter back I thought you put the very obvious pieces together and stopped writing back cause I mad it weird.

But I guess you're just ditzy cause clearly it when right over your head.

I do like you, I wanna meet you. Maybe at the arcade or something? I could show you how to actually be good at Pac-Man.

Only if you want!

-Batman

PS I DID NOT THINK ABOUT TEACHERS READING THIS OMG

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Batman,

That was me?! I didn't even adress it cause I didn't know what to say. I don't have a good track record with relationships and I didn't wanna screw anything up by getting jealous you weren't into me when we've never met.

Holy crap you have no idea how happy I am right now.

I think you're amazing. And I know we've only been talking for a month and it's been mostly banter but I really like the idea of getting to know you better. Person to person.

I’m gonna be honest though, I kind of don't want to cause I don't want you to be disappointed when you find out who I am. I don't think you like me very much outside these letters. I don't even know who you are in the slightest.

I've taken notes about you and tried to figure it out but I'm fucking clueless dude.

I'm nervous to talk new people, actually, anyone, cause I don't know if it's you want I don't wanna drive you away or give you a reason to be any more upset when you meet me.

Sincerely, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Superman,

You are the cutest ditz I've ever not met ever. You have no idea how many times I read that letter and GIGGLED. Honestly, I kinda hate you for it now. That was embarrassing in Mr harris's class. I couldn't help it your so fucking cute I swear

I was like a 13 year old girl getting Justin Bieber's autograph. EMBERASSING

but you're sweet so I forgive you.

I'm ready to meet when you are, I don't wanna push you into something you're unsure of. But I want you to know that whatever I may have thought of you before, whatever impression I gave you to make you think I don't like you, it doesn't really matter now.

I know you well enough that I don't think any of that matters anymore.

Unless I hate you in person cause you were a total dick.

Then I think you'll have to make it up to me. ;)

I take smooches as payment for being a jerk

-Batman🖤

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Batman,

You really are something special. But do you really think it would all be swept under the rug, just because I made you giggle?

And we've talking about ouselves and our goals and everything but do you really know me well enough to make such a bold statement like that?

I wanna trust that when we meet it will be like a fucking fairytale, but fairytales are never as fun and a hell of a lot more gory in real life. I don't wanna be a downer but I don't wanna be hurt again. I've told you things about myself I've never told anyone. Things I don't trust anyone with.

I let my guard down and if you end up looking me in the eye and you can't stand what you see, then that's gonna break my heart.

Sincerely, Superman.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I know that you're sweet. I know that you're a family man. I know you want kids and a big happy family of your own. I know you're smart, you always use basically perfect grammar and spelling. I know you're an introvert who like quiet time with friends more then parties. I know you love to cook. Not just because you told me, but because I get the feeling with you shifters that you're a total mommas boy. And mommas boys can always cook. I know you feel things with all you're heart and I bet you pour everything you have into your family and sisters. Even if you don't want them to know how much you love when they fuck with you. That's just what sibling are for- so I've heard. I know you've got enough charisma and charm that you probably have a lot of friends. But only maybe two or three of them would last long enough to be invited to your wedding someday. I know you are poetic, just based on the last few letters. I know you're funny as hell. You've made me laugh a few times. I know even though you seem like a macho sport guy your really a softy. Total hopeless romantic I bet. I know you're a geek like me, a fucking nerd too I bet. I bet you one of the top kids in class. I know my dad would love you. I know you're a werewolf. Which means if I tell you that tonight I'm gonna go to the store and find the strawberry-scented soap or perfume, what ever I can find, tomorrow you'll be able to sniff me out. You'll hear my heart when I walk into a room super nervous, knowing you'll know its me. I know that you care about me. And I know you're smiling like a little kid right now. I know you'll probably read this over and over but you won't tell a soul.

Have fun sniffing me out today, superman.

-Batman xoxo

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Batman,

I know who you are. You weren't lying when you said you were perfect.

I smelled the strawberries as soon as I knew to look for them. Followed it in between classes. Kind of sent me on a wild goose chase for a bit, was late a couple times. The scent traveled everywhere, couldn't tack it. The you came into lunch, you walked right by me.

Your heart was racing just like you said it would be. It looked like you were looking for me too. I wanted to just walk over and kiss you silly.

I ran away like a fucking loser though.

Just got up and left. I'm sorry I'm such a coward. I miss you though. I know you already went home. I'm staying late to right this to make sure you get this tomorrow.

I almost didn't write anything. I didn't expect you to take me seriously when I told you. Didn't expect you to believe in werewolves or to know anything about us. That kind of scared me.

I had a girlfriend before. She had no clue. When she found out, she moved. She was so afraid of me like she didn't even love me anymore. I was a monster to her all of a sudden.

But for you, you don't seem to care. You used it to help me find you. Used your scent to help me find you and you probably don't know as much as I think you might, but that sort of thing makes the wolf go crazy.

Like a hunting game of cat and mouse but without the murder and eating at the end.

Shit, Stiles, you're so perfect.

Sincerely, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Superman,

I told you so.

But, my friend got bit. I had to sort through Hollywood bullshit and actual facts to help him not kill anyone every full moon. Honestly if I had known there were wolves in Beacon Hills other than the sick fuck that attacked him I probably would've gone to them to help him.

But he's got control over it know. Full moons are more like a girl's time of the month for him now. Don't tell him I said that. Or your sisters! When I meet them I don't want them to be pissy over it.

But I don't mind. The claws and fangs are kinda hot. Definitely not hot on my friend! Ew

But I got to thinking about that night. I kinda liked it more than I thought I would.

I'm still here superman. You can't chase me away with claws and fangs. ;)

-Batman xoxo

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Batman,

Warn a guy. I read that first thing this morning and I lost control for a minute. Hand to hide my claws in my jacket. You owe me a new one by the way. The pockets are fucked.

I wanna scent you so bad. You don't smell like me and it makes me uncomfortable. I wanna rap you up on my scent and leave you there until you smell more like me than yourself.

On a more serious note, I think its time I ask. I don't wanna pry but this whole thing was supposed to be about bullying anyway. How did Derek Hale tease you? It's been really bothering me since your first few letters. Why do you hate Derek Hale? I mean you don't seem, at least from your letters so far, to be harboring a serious grudge against Jackson, so what makes Derek that much worse? What did he do exactly?

I don't really remember anything that could make someone hate him as much as you do. Yet I'm biased. So, I guess I'm just concerned.

Sincerely, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Batman,

Oh dear lord you're dereks friend??? That's why you think I don't like you? Cause you hang out with that jerk? this is awful I hate you

No i dont sorry

DO NOT TELL HIM ABOUT ME AT ALL

I'm serious Superman. Please.

I was humiliated by him! I dont want to drag up anything and relive freshmen year, it was the worst. Thank god people forgot about it over the summer and it's been peaceful since.

And don't get all wolfy jelly over it, cause I'm over it. Its all you now baby.

I may have let it slip ACCIDENTLY - i talk alot, my mouth moves before my brain can tell it to shut up- that I sort of maybe had a teeny weeny little bit had a major crush on him. the next day his friends were laughing at me in the halls and there was a note in my locker calling me a fag and shit

This was back before danny made it cool to be gay.

I couldn't even muster up the balls to tell my dad what I was crying about when I got home. I spent all last year avoiding him like the plague and yet I still got mean notes in my desk and locker every now and then

like i get he probably doesn't like guys, and even if he did I'm like a fish out of water on my best days- very clumsy- not the prettiest flower in the garden but let a guy down gently you know??

I just wanna forget about him and his stupid face

-Batman xoxo

Ps I owe you a drink, jacket, Pac-Man advice and you owe me smoches. Am I forgetting anything?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Batman,

Don't be mad. . please don't be mad. Derek says he has no clue what you're talking about. He never had any guy confess a crush on him, and he certainly didn't tell anyone about anything like that. Literally ever.

Maybe someone else overheard and they made fun of you? But I don't know, cause you never told him anything like that. Derek isn't the kind of guy to do something that fucked up. He's an ass sometimes and he knows it but he wouldn't do that.

It doesn't change the fact that you were hurt, and I'm so sorry that happened. Whoever is responsible is twisted and deserves a beating. I'll rip their throats out with me teeth, just give me the word!

Please don't be mad!

Maybe try talking to Derek? I'm absolutely certain he will wanna hear from you in person about this.

Sincerely, Superman

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

[Blank Page]

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Batman,

Please, please, please talk to me! Nobody else knows about this and I swear Derek won't tell anyone. I want you to understand that Derek would never in a million years use someone's feelings like that to hurt them. He's a total pussy honestly!

He's been taken advantage of by someone he's gave his heart to, so he wouldn't do it to someone else.

I promise you with everything in me, Stiles.

Derek Hale if not that kind of guy, there's a misunderstanding somewhere. I want to understand what happened. I want to help!

Between you and me, Derek is Bi, not out to his family or literally anyone yet. He wouldn't out you like that.

Can you please tell me what happened? Spare no details.

Sincerely, Superman xoxo

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Derek wouldnt out me maybe, but you just outed him??? how the hell am I supposed to trust you after I asked you not to say anything and then you did!! THEN you outed your fucking friend.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Batman,

Yeah, I get how I fucked up there. But Derek was down for it! I let him read the letter and he told me what to say. Think of me as his wingman! He wants to know what happened just as much as I do.

Swear on my mother, Batman.

thats a weird thing to write so sincerely

Yours Truly, Superman xoxo

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Fine Superman.

First off, why didn't you just fucking drop it! I don't wanna mend anything with this guy cause I want you! Derek Hale is dead to me, a thing of the past.

But you wanna know why your friend is a dick, sure.

I was sort of his friend- kind of only because I knew Cora. It was a best friend's-other friend's-friend's-friend thing- cora being the last one. I don't know we just kind of knew each other and we were chill. and that's how we met. we talked for maybe three minutes at Cora's birthday party last year and then I literally only saw him from a distance at school. but I was whipped okay.

I mean have you seen him?? he's fucking perfect. totally unfair

We ended up in a group project though, even though he was out for the week- family emergency or whatever it was. But the group got everyone's phone numbers down to go over shit, and thats how I got his number, and we started talking- like literally every night for a good two weeks. I let it slip on night when we were going back and forth fucking with each other that I liked him

I was gonna play it off like as friends or whatever but he said he had to go and then blocked my number.

The rest is history.

Stiles out

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Stiles,

What was the phone number?? Are you sure you got the right one? Derek never got any texts like that! I swear he wouldn't do that to you. Ever. Not you.

If we can sort this out then you'd see where it all went wrong. And you won't hate him anymore.

I wanna make this right.

Sincerely yours, Superman xoxo

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dude why does this fucking matter? Its not like just because we’d potentially be a thing doesn't mean I have to be buddy buddy with all of your friends. I don't care about whatever happened between me and Derek fucking Hale. I don't give a shit about him. He's old news, loser boring basic news okay.

He's a jerk and there is no way in all his time hanging out with that asshole that called me names and beat me up, and told everyone I was a freak and a fag that he didn't catch on. He had to have known something was happening because the whole school knew it was happening. He may have not been the one to call me those names. Or break my arm and nose. He may have not been the one to tell Jackson all about how I thought he was pretty and smart or whatever I was hyped up for but he still knew I was getting shoved, jumped, and dragged through the dirt.

And just like everyone else who watched, he said NOTHING. didn't step in didn't stop it, nothing.

He may not be a bully, but he's a bystander which is so much worse Superman.

I was hurt and alone and at some point I let myself believe it was actually my fault. I don't care about Derek Hale anymore.

I don't wanna think about him.

If you wanna keep being his bud then whatever defending him and shit go ahead. I won't stop you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Superman,

Haven't heard from you in two weeks. I've been reading your letters over and over. I miss you. I'm sorry I kind of blue up on you in that last letter.

I ended up taking a lot of things out on you that I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry. I never talked about any of that with anyone, so I kind of just bottled it up. And you poking and the damn broke. Its not your fault.

You just wanted to help, and your stupidly sweet for that.

My feelings for you haven't changed at all. I still wanna be with you, and totally school you at Pac-Man. I wanna argue over Batman VS Superman. I wanna meet you and smooch and cuddle. I wanna go home smelling like you. I want your sisters to like me. I wanna do stupid romantic shit that makes you blush and get all cute.

I want you to talk to me again.

I miss you so much.

Sincerely Yours, Stiles xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

ps I guess I owe you kisses for being a jerk now

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Stiles,

You're really gonna hate me after this one.

I asked around about it. I don't hang out with those guys anymore. You were right, their fucking bullies. I don't know how I never noticed. They were always so cool and nice when I was around. But I guess you weren't their only victim. Basically, the whole school thinks those guys are assholes. And so am I by association.

You never had my number. You were taking Greenburge the whole time. He told Jackson and them about it and they said they thought they were doing me a favor.

If you hadn't been given the wrong number none of this would've happened.

Meeting you last year would've saved me from a lot of pain. You make me feel at home in my skin. I meet Paige at that party right after you. But you never seemed to notice me and Paige did.

When she saw me as I am she made me feel like a monster, I hated myself for it afterward. Still do. I felt like being born the way I am would cost me everything. Like id have to settle for someone who was just okay, because they're a wolf and they get it. Like I was robbed of being with someone as amazing as you because I was a monster.

But here you come, and you're so fucking perfect, Stiles. You make me feel whole again like I can trust my wolf again. I trust you with every part of me.

My anger, fear, loneliness, my love.

I didn't want you to know who I was while you hated my guts. I didn't want you to look at me like I don't even know. I wanted to clear up the misunderstanding before we met in person is what I'm saying. I want you to like me so bad it hurts, Stiles.

Cora made fun of me for crying when Mom put strawberries on our pancakes the other day. I didn't tell anyone about you. I couldn't. Didn't know how to think about you without feeling like shit.

I never wanted to hurt you but I did anyways. I'm so sorry sorry.

Sincerely, Derek Hale

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dear Derek,

Saw Greenburge with a cast and broken nose. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you? I know you've been suspended for fighting the past few days. But I know you'll be back here today so

I just wanna forget about this. I wanna just get to the good bit where you're all over me because I'm so fucking perfect.

heres my number xxx-xxx-xxxx text me so I can actually have your number this time.

With Love, Stiles

ps meet me in the locker room during lunch so we can be alone

I'm gonna smooch you so hard ≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪

Part Two (Comming Soon)

•Kermitts Masterlist•

[rei-ismyname]

Ororo, how did you get here?

I wonder if we'll get a solid, in character explanation for why Storm would become a cop (Avenger) again. I'm writing an analysis on From The Ashes (so far) and while I'm clear-eyed about where most characters and books are at, I really need to know if they're even going to bother explaining why Storm would leave Arakko (oh yeah, there's still a million mutants on the red planet) and if they do to what degree. Sure she can just bail off screen but it'd be deeply out of character. She's a member of the Great Ring (or at least she was, occupying Magneto's empty Seat of Loss after she yielded the Regency to Lodus Logos.) She's the most impactful political and cultural figure in a generation. She was the leader of the winning faction in the Genesis War. She had a lover, who was caring for two orphans. I think they were living together. She was happy. I can't recall any ties to Atlanta, but it doesn't really matter. Without serious explanation she's going to look fickle, like she's shirking her duty. A duty she chose, too. Fought multiple wars over. She's getting a solo book, there's totally room to do it properly.

The other big ting for me is Magneto. The First Krakoan age put him through the ringer - his character arc was objectively given the most attention and subjectively the most satisfying. Even without Uncanny X-Men #700 he was poised to shake up the status quo but when you include his chat with Charles that's a promise. A promise that needs to be paid off. Not just any old promise either - it's an ideological breakthrough five decades in the making! He's been kept in the background so far and I haven't really been able to judge whether that promise is being kept or not. I hope so but my expectations are low. It would be such tonal whiplash I can't even think of an analogy.

Interestingly both Max and Ororo were Of Arakko last time we got a close look. Magneto died defending Arakko, he has friends there. He is literally one of the society's heroes for slaying Tarn the Uncaring and The Hour Of Magneto/Judgement Day.

Yeah, that's right. *AIR HORN* *PUMPS FIST* He cares about the Arakki and they care about him. He'd want to pay his respects to the Fisher King and generally see how it's going. He lost his place on the Great Ring when he died and Vulcan blew up his house, but neither are especially important. Both planet and culture are dear to him. After X of Swords, in that brief period when the Arakki were on Earth, it was Magneto meeting with Isca about teething problems. 'Twas Magneto who spearheaded the Terraforming Operation, handling the communication/logistics and harvesting enough iron to bring the planet to life from the Khyber Belt. While he was doing that, Ororo was fighting Nameless to the death for the Noontide Seat.

I could honestly go on, but my point is these two especially are invested. (Roberto Da Costa too, but it seems the New Mutants are represented by Magik alone and Cypher looking like an idiot.) If that continuity is disregarded I'm going to have a problem with it. Honestly, if Arakko is there and not being used in any stories I'll be scratching my head. How do you go from terraforming planets to hated and feared on Earth as anything other than a regression? The geopolitical implications of it being there pretty much break the world they're selling us. They're telling us it's so dangerous for mutants that they're developing secret hand signals and Underground Railroad'ing. At least some mutants would move to fucking Mars. All countries would be at Defcon 1. Did the entire galactic council just forget Sol exists?

I'll stop there, save some for the actual essay instead of the rant lol. If you're enjoying it I couldn't be happier for you. I am struggling to, though, and I'm very wary of heartbreak. Maybe that's on me for how I manage my expectations. We shall see.

[j-eryewrites]

The Great Game (II)

Part 20 of The Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221 B Baker Street

Previous | Next

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: 5.7k

Author's Note: Agh! Finally. It has been so long since I have been able to write for Sherlock, John, and Y/N. Man, am I glad to be back? The chapter is not as long as I hoped it would be, but I am proud of it nonetheless. I hope I haven't made you all wait too long for this chapter.

Warnings: Crime scenes, gore, mentions of violence, canon typical violence, Sherlock is Sherlock (Let me know if I missed anything)

There was something weird. Greg couldn’t grasp it as he sat across Sherlock, John, and Y/N. John was fine if Greg excluded the serial bomber/killer case that they had on their hands. No, John wasn’t the problem. It was Y/N and Sherlock.

Greg’s eyes narrowed on the two of them. Sherlock bore his ever-expressionless face, but Greg was a cop, which meant he could read people, even if it weren’t up to Sherlock’s standard. It was the eyes that gave the consulting detective away as they subtly glanced over at Y/N. Greg stifled a snicker. Sherlock, no matter how hard he tried, could never be subtle. The man’s nature was to be bold and straightforward, something that became even more apparent in areas outside his expertise, such as love.

“She lives in Cornwall,” Lestrade began upon realizing he’d been staring at them for a few minutes. “Two men broke in wearing masks, forced her to drive to the car park, and decked her out in enough explosives to take down a house. Told her to phone you. She had to read out from this pager.” Greg placed the small pager on the desk in front of them.

Sherlock immediately snatched it away like an overzealous toddler. “And if she deviated by one word, the sniper would set her off,” Sherlock finished.

“Or if you hadn't solved the case,” John added. He crossed his arms and looked down. The lines marking John’s face began to deepen just as they did during his time in the war.

“Oh… Elegant!” Sherlock smirked.

Greg, Y/N, and John collectively raised their brows. “Elegant?” Y/N questioned. Sherlock didn’t answer her.

“But what was the point? Why would anyone do this?” Lestrade asked, sensing something more behind Sherlock’s words.

“Oh, I can't be the only person in the world who gets bored,” Sherlock said, and an unwavering worry filled Y/N’s eyes.

“Sherlock, what do you mean by that?” Y/N wondered.

However, the pink phone buzzed before Sherlock could send her another glance. “You have one new message,” it chimed before beeping four times. The group froze.

“Four pips,” John noted.

“First test passed, it would seem” Sherlock pulled out the phone, and a new image displayed on the screen. “Here's the second.” They all leaned close to get a good look at the pixelated photo. “It's abandoned, wouldn't you say?” Sherlock questioned.

The image displayed was a car. Blood covered the seats and stained the inner lining of the vehicle. From the image alone, they all knew there was a murder. It was another puzzle Sherlock would need to solve.

“I'll see if it's been reported,” Lestrade said before turning his laptop to scan the incident reports filed by the station.

A new noise entered the fray as Greg clacked away at the keyboard. It was a knock on the door. The air soured as John, Sherlock, and Y/N looked to her, who stood there, Donovan.

Distaste marked her face as she scowled at Sherlock. She raised a phone. “Freak, it's for you.”

Y/n tensed upon hearing those words. No matter how often she came to Sherlock’s defense, that name always floated around. It was inescapable. She hated how a brilliant mind like his was hated and feared. Watching Sherlock calmly retrieve the phone from Donovan’s hand made Y/N’s heart clench. She knew he wasn’t okay with the name that haunted him. Maybe one day, she’d be able to get them to stop. Maybe Y/N could make Sherlock no longer hurt. She’d save him.

“Hello?” Sherlock lifted the phone to his ear.

A hesitant breath echoed over the phone. It was as if whoever was on the other end was terrified of breathing incorrectly. “It's okay that you've gone to the police,” the voice spoke. It was a young man based on intonation and pitch.

“Who is this?” Sherlock questioned. His phone gripped the phone tighter. “Is this you again?”

The voice ignored Sherlock’s questions and continued reading the message the true villain had written. “But don't rely on them. Clever you, guessing about Carl Powers. I never liked him.” The sound of traffic blared through the phone, and Sherlock’s breath hitched. The voice was somewhere crowded. “Carl laughed at me and her, so I stopped him laughing.”

Sherlock’s ears perked up. The killer had slipped up. A small smile crept onto his face, and his blue eyes peered over at Y/N, who was watching him. “Her?” Sherlock repeated. The voice over the phone was silent. An answer was not coming, so instead, Sherlock changed his approach. “And you've stolen another voice, I presume.”

“This is about you and me,” the voice said.

“Who are you? What's that noise?”

“The sounds of life, Sherlock. But don't worry…I can soon fix that,” The voice shuddered as a sob broke through. “You solved my last puzzle in nine hours. This time, you have eight.”

Withdrawing the phone from his ear, Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Whatever this criminal would throw at him, he’d solve it. He’d do anything to keep everyone safe.

“Okay… Great. We've found it!” Lestrade beamed. John and Y/N sat up, eager to hear what was in store. “The car was hired yesterday morning by Ian Monkford. Banker of some kind, City boy. Paid in cash. He told his wife he was going on a business trip but never arrived.”

Sherlock nodded his head. There was a momentary pause and a consensus agreement. All at once, Greg, Y/N, John, and Sherlock turned to leave the station and head to the crime scene. Sherlock led the way, and John and Lestrade trailed close behind. Y/N’s pace was slower than the others, and as she attempted to catch up to them, a head of dark curly hair stopped her.

Donovan held out her hand to Y/N’s chest, stopping her movement. She looked Y/N up and down before opening her mouth to speak. “You're still hanging around him.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, well…”

“Opposites attract, I suppose,” Donovan interrupted.

Y/N’s eyes widened, and before her silence could turn into a confession, she exclaimed, “Sherlock and I aren’t–”

Donovan couldn't care less as she spoke over Y/N once more. “You should get yourself a hobby – stamps, maybe. Cosmetics. Safer.”

Scoffing, Y/N brushed Donovan’s hand away. “If anyone needs to get a hobby, it’s you. After all, you like sticking your nose into people’s business and marriages.” Y/N didn’t stay to see Donovan’s stunned face. After all, the woman wasn’t worth it.

_____

A deep sigh escaped Lestrade's mouth as he placed his hands on his hips, watching Sherlock dive his head into the abandoned car. "Before you ask," Lestrade began watching as Sherlock's mouth instinctively closed. "Yes, it's Monkford's blood. The DNA checks out."

John and Y/N frowned as they peered into the car. Policemen and women were hard at work scouring the crime scene for anything that could be evidence. Forgotten buildings between destruction and construction made it hard to determine what was part of the crime and what was just there. The noise of everything around them was deafening, drowning out the puzzle pieces of the crime scene. Blood was everywhere in the vehicle, and…

"No body," Sherlock stated, placing a small slip of paper into his pocket. Y/N's eyes narrowed as the sheet of white disappeared into his coat. She couldn't help but smile softly at herself.

"Not yet," Donovan corrected as they walked past, dropping off a new bag of potential evidence.

"Get a sample sent to the lab," Sherlock instructed before moving on to his next target: the distraught woman standing at the edge of the crime scene. "Mrs Monkford?" Sherlock asked.

The woman looked up at Sherlock, tears in her eyes and trails of mascara running down her face. "Yes." She looked Sherlock up and down, raising her head to meet his gaze. "Sorry, but I've already spoken with two policemen," Mrs. Monkford explained.

"No," John corrected. "We're not from the police, we're…" His eyes glanced over to Y/N, who gave him an uncertain shrug. They were from the police, but not the police. They solved crimes and cases, but it was more of a personal business consultation.

Suddenly, a sharp sniffle escaped Sherlock's mouth. With stunned faces, John and Y/N whirled around to see Sherlock's eyes pink and tears rolling out. The shock soon faded to reveal confusion. What the hell was Sherlock doing? It was the collective thought between the two friends.

"Sherlock Holmes," he tearfully introduced. "A very old friend of your husband's. We, um…we grew up together."

Y/N was the first to catch on to Sherlock's bluff. She had to admit it was compelling. Each pause and somber glance at Mrs. Monkford seemed to grow in sincerity.

"I'm sorry, who?" Mrs. Monkford took Sherlock's hand and shook it. "I don't think he ever mentioned you."

"Oh," Sherlock said, "he must have done. This is… this is horrible, isn't it?" He looked to John and Y/N, who did not waste time nodding solemnly to Sherlock's act. "I mean, I just can't believe it. I only saw him the other day. Same old Ian – not a care in the world."

The saddened look in Mrs. Monkford's eyes hardened upon hearing Sherlock's words. "Sorry, but my husband has been depressed for months." She stood up straighter to get a better look at Sherlock. "Who are you?" She asked once again.

If Y/N weren't looking, she wouldn't caught the slight smirk that flashed across Sherlock's face. Soon, the sadness in Sherlock's voice was replaced by his calculated nature. "Really strange that he hired a car. Why would he do that? It's a bit suspicious, isn't it?"

Shaking her head, Mrs. Monkford refuted Sherlock's question. "No, it isn't. He forgot to renew the tax on the car, that's all."

Instantly, the mask was back on and amped up the act a hundred times stronger. "Oh, well, that was Ian! That was Ian all over!" Sherlock exclaimed, earning looks from the policemen and women working the crime scene.

"No, it wasn't," Mrs. Monkford snapped.

"Wasn't it?" Any trace of deception was gone. Sherlock was back. "Interesting," he muttered before turning on the ball of his foot out of the crime scene.

Y/N and John darted after Sherlock; their lungs heaved when they reached him. John silently cursed Sherlock's long legs. "Why did you lie to her?" John wondered.

"People don't like telling you things," Sherlock explained smugly, "but they love to contradict you. Past tense, did you notice?"

"Sorry, what?" Y/N asked, trying to match her pace to Sherlock's.

"I referred to her husband in the past tense," Sherlock noted. "She joined in. Bit premature – they've only just found the car."

"You think she murdered her husband?" John questioned, quickly glancing over his shoulder at Mrs. Monkford, whose figure kept growing smaller and smaller with each step he took.

"Definitely not," Sherlock stated. "That's not a mistake a murderer would make."

"I see," John nodded. Y/N peeked out in front of Sherlock's body to look at John and raised her brows, asking for a clue. In response, he shrugged and shook his head, " Never mind, no, I don't. What am I seeing?"

"Where are we going now?" Y/N interjected as Sherlock led them to a cab waiting on the side of the road. Hoping in, he patted the seat next to him.

"Janus Cars," Y/N and John trickled into the leather seats. Once the doors closed, Sherlock pulled out the tiny card he had collected from the rental car. "Just found this in the glove compartment." He passed it over to John and Y/N, who took turns observing the paper. JANUS CARS was in all caps in the center of the business card.

"A bit bold for my taste," Y/N muttered, earning a few smiles from her companions.

______

It was a typical car garage. Mechanics scribbled on their clipboards as they diagnosed the issue with the cars in the shop. Y/N stood at the office window, watching them work so as not to acknowledge the overzealous man sitting behind the desk.

She had glanced at the man in his freshly pressed suit, sharp tan lines, and overly gelled hair. Working with Sherlock had its ups and downs, and one such down was running into men like Mr. Ewert, who believed they deserved the world just for existing.

"Can't see how I can help you, gentlemen," Mr. Ewert said. Y/N cleared her throat and continued to look out the window with a careful ear listening in. "And lady."

"Mr. Monkford hired the car from you yesterday," John read from Lestrade's notes.

Ewert nodded and slumped back into his office chair. His hands came to rest on top of the walnut-colored desk. "Yeah. Lovely motor," Ewert said. "Mazda RX-8. Wouldn't mind one of them myself!"

He flashed a smile and glanced around the room, looking for validation for the comment about the car.

Sherlock allowed the urge to roll his eyes to overcome him. He glanced over to Y/N. His eyes dissected every part of her as his heart pounded in her chest. Quickly shaking his head, he tore his focus off Y/N and onto the car, visible through the window. "Is that one?" He asked.

"No," Ewert shook his head. "They're all Jags." He peered at Sherlock and chuckled, "Yeah, I can see you're not a car man, eh?"

Sherlock frowned, unsure of what Ewert was insinuating. "But, er, surely you can afford one – a Mazda, I mean?"

Ewert sank even deeper into his chair and grinned. "Yeah, it's a fair point. But you know how it is." He looked to John, who sat in front of him. "It's like working in a sweetshop. Once you start picking at the licorice allsorts, when does it all stop, eh?"

"But you didn't know Mr. Monkford?" John asked, ignoring Ewert's attempts at relation.

"No," Ewert shook his head. "He was just a client. Came in here and hired one of my cars. No idea what happened to him. Poor sod!"

At this, Y/N peered over her shoulder and frowned. Her eyes caught sight of Sherlock's, who honed in on hers. His blue eyes flickered with the same realization. They had only come asking about Mr. Monkford and the car he hired—nothing about anything happening to the man.

"Nice holiday, Mr. Ewert?" Sherlock inquired, sending Y/N a brief smile before returning to his questioning subject.

"Eh?" Ewert frowned.

"You've been away, haven't you?" Sherlock clarified.

"Oh, the-the…" Ewert's relaxed expression faltered under Sherlock's harsh gaze. "No, it's, er, sunbeds, I'm afraid, yeah. Too busy to get away. My wife would love it, though – a bit of sun."

"Have you got any change for the cigarette machine?" Sherlock blurted.

"What?" Ewert asked.

"Well," Sherlock sighed. "I noticed one on the way in and I haven't got any change." He took out a bill and showed it to Ewert.

Y/N bit her lip, hiding her frown. Her and Mrs. Hudson's mission was to get Sherlock to stop. Mrs Hudson stated that Sherlock needed to pay her for all the damages in his flat, but Y/N knew it was because she genuinely cared. They both did, and with each day, Y/N cared more and more. Maybe she cared too much for her own good.

"I'm gasping," Sherlock pleaded.

Pulling out his wallet and flicking through the colorful bills, Ewert shook his head. "Um, well…No, sorry."

"Oh well," Sherlock said before strolling to the door. "Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Ewert. You've been very helpful." Noticing John and Y/N still stood in their places, Sherlock called out to them. "Come on, John and Y/N."

John hurriedly shut his book full of notes and pocketed them before pulling out his wallet. Meanwhile, Y/N pulled her attention away from the cars. It was honestly like watching some paint dry.

John opened the wallet and pulled out some change. "I-I've got change if you still want to, uh…" he motioned to the cigarette machine before catching sight of Y/N's eyes. Ashamed, he looked down and hid his wallet away.

"Nicotine patches," Sherlock proudly announced. "Remember? I'm doing well."

"I told you to cut back on those, Sherlock," Y/N hissed. She'd swore she'd gotten everything out of the flat the other day. However, Sherlock's elusiveness always got the best of her.

"I need them to think," Sherlock defended.

"Well, that doesn’t sound very healthy to me," she retorted. Sherlock huffed and peered down at the woman.

Sensing a brewing argument, John stepped in and took charge. "So what was that all about?"

"I needed to look inside his wallet," Sherlock stated.

"Why?" John wondered.

"Cause he's a liar/Mr. Ewert's a liar." Y/N and Sherlock said at the same time.

Sherlock gazed down at Y/N in awe. A proud smile adorned his face as he hopped in the cab awaiting them. As John and Y/N made their way into the car, they found their path stopped by Sherlock.

"What are you doing?" John asked as he was pushed out of the cab and onto the curb with Y/N.

"Going to the lab," Sherlock announced. John and Y/N frowned. "I need silence."

"He means he doesn't want us going with him."

"An astute observation, Y/N." Sherlock sat back in the seat. "We need beans and milk."

With that, the cab door closed, and Sherlock was gone. Y/N groaned into her hand as John cursed, hailing another cab.

It was a couple of moments before another cab came around, and the two of them scrambled inside. Once the door was closed and on their way back to Baker Street, Y/n turned to John.

"Tea at mine?"

John nodded. "How's Bjørn? Haven't seen him for a while."

"He's good." Y/N chuckled. I'm starting to think Bjørn's in the right with his dislike of Sherlock.

John snickered, "the animals always know."

"That they do."

A wave of giggles filled the back seat of the cab. Y/N smiled. She was glad she had a friend in John. It was safe to say John felt the same way.

______

The lab was quiet—just as Sherlock liked it—had. It was too quiet now. His thoughts thundered and screamed at him—thoughts of Y/N, the cases, who M may be, and most of all, thoughts of Y/N.

The shoes that started this all were found in her flat. It was a message not just about the shoes but also about her. M knew. M knew Sherlock held sentiment towards her. That Sherlock loved her. Sherlock shook his head. Sherlock had to protect her from M, and so to protect her, he'd make himself stop loving her. He had to, even if he knew it was an impossible task. Sherlock had to make himself stop, even if he knew he never could. He loved her. So, deciding the next best thing was to make her stop caring for him. Sherlock was good at that; that task itself was not impossible; just figuring out how was the next step.

While his mind configured a plan, Sherlock narrowed his eyes and peered into the telescope before him. He pulled back and frowned. Just then, the pink phone on the countertop beside him rang.

"Hello?" Sherlock answered.

"The clue's in the name," the voice announced. "Janus Cars."

Sherlock furrowed his brows. "Why would you be giving me a clue?"

"Why does anyone do anything?" The voice spoke. "Because I'm bored. We were made for each other, Sherlock." The man reading the message sobbed.

"Then talk to me in your own voice," Sherlock demanded.

"Patience," the man said, and the call ended. Sherlock sighed and glanced around the room. It was empty except for him, and he grew to hate the loneliness he felt. He missed Y/N and John's presence. He missed his friends. He missed her. Groaning, Sherlock began to realize how difficult his plan would be, and for the first time in his life, he was not sure he had the strength to see it through. But for now, a case needed to be solved. Solving the case was the best way to keep those he loved safe until he could figure something else out.

_______

"How much blood was on that seat, would you say?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.

"How much? About a pint," Lestrade replied, shoving his hands in his coat to conceal his shivers. The garage where the police had stored the car from the scene only seemed to amplify the freezing temperatures outside. It appeared that even John and Y/N were inflicted by the cold. All except Sherlock. Lestrade peered at Sherlock and the coat he wore. Now that he thought of it, Lestrade wondered if he'd ever seen Sherlock shiver. Maybe he needed to ask Sherlock where he purchased his coat.

"Not 'about," Sherlock corrected. "Exactly a pint. That was their first mistake. The blood's definitely Ian Monkford's, but it's been frozen."

"Frozen?" Greg repeated.

"There are clear signs," Sherlock noted, and Y/N sighed, recalling the frozen and boiling blood experiment Sherlock had conducted in his flat not too long ago. "I think Ian Monkford gave a pint of his blood some time ago, and that's what they spread on the seats."

"Who did?" John wondered.

"Janus Cars," Sherlock answered, murmuring under his breath, "The clue's in the name."

"The god with two faces," Y/N blurted, missing Sherlock's proud smile. "Sorry, I was really interested in mythology as a kid. "

"Exactly," Sherlock beamed.

"Mmm," John hummed, looking at how Sherlock gazed at Y/N. Upon hearing John's gaze, Sherlock tore his eyes away and strolled to the car.

"They provide a very special service," Sherlock began. "If you've got any kind of a problem – money troubles, bad marriage, whatever – Janus Cars will help you disappear. Ian Monkford was up to his eyes in some kind of trouble – financial, at a guess; he's a banker. Couldn't see a way out. But if he were to vanish if the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood all over the driver's seat…"

"So where is he?" John asked.

"Colombia," Sherlock replied.

"Colombia?!" Lestrade gasped with his eyes growing wide. Dealing with police affairs in London was hard enough as it was, but to add a case involving another country? He certainly was not paid enough for that.

"Mr. Ewert of Janus Cars had a twenty thousand Colombian peso note in his wallet…" Sherlock glanced at John and Y/N, hoping they'd connect.

"That's why you asked for change," Y/N said.

Sherlock nodded. "…Quite a bit of change, too. He told us he hadn't been abroad recently, but when I asked him about the cars, I could see his tan line clearly. No one wears a shirt on a sunbed. That, plus his arm."

"His arm?" Lestrade asked, confused by all the inside knowledge shared between John, Y/N, and Sherlock.

"Kept scratching it," Sherlock explained. "Obviously irritating him and bleeding."

John opened his mouth to say something when Sherlock cut him off, anticipating his question. "Why? Because he'd recently had a booster jab. Hep-B, probably. It is difficult to tell at that distance. Conclusion: he'd just returned from settling Ian Monkford into his new life in Columbia. Mrs Monkford cashes in the life insurance, and she splits it with Janus Cars."

"M-Mrs Monkford?" John questioned.

Sherlock's eyes widened. "Oh yes. She's in on it, too." Lestrade felt his head growing dizzy from all the back-and-forth. The calling of his name snapped him out of the daze. Looking to who called him, Lestrade found Sherlock, who was ready to relay his next instruction.

"Now go and arrest them, Inspector. That's what you do best. We need to let our friendly bomber know that the case is solved. I am on fire!" Sherlock's cheer and a particular pink phone ringing echoed throughout the garage.

Sherlock answered, placing the phone on speaker. Lestrade, John, and Y/N grew silent as they listened. "He says you can come and fetch me. Help. Help me, please."

______

It wasn't until they had stopped at Speedy's to recuperate that Y/N realized her exhaustion. Her head hung heavy as it rested against the table. Once full of eggs, toast, and some sausage, her plate was now licked clean. John was in a similar state. However, he chose to lean back in the chair rather than collapse on the table. Sherlock, however, sat tall. His spine was as straight as a needle, and his blue eyes were observed in his companion's sluggish behavior.

"Feeling better?" Sherlock uttered.

"Mmm," John groaned. "You realize we've hardly stopped for breath since this thing started? Has it occurred to you…?"

"Probably," Sherlock answered.

John shook his head as Y/N tilted hers to look up at him and Sherlock. "No, " John continued. "Has it occurred to you that the bomber's playing a game with you? The envelope, breaking into Y/N’s flat, the dead kid's shoes – it's all meant for you."

At the mention of all the cases, the shoes, the break-in. The group grew quiet. Y/N gulped and suddenly wished she hadn't stuffed her face with food a few minutes prior.

"…Yes, I know." Sherlock was the first to break the silence.

"Is it him, then? Moriarty?" John asked.

Y/N's ears perked up. There was something about that name—Moriarty. Yes, it was part of the case. "M" equaled Moriarty, but that didn't interest her. Something long and forgotten called to her via the name. Although a part of her desired to understand, another feared what would happen if it was discovered.

"Perhaps," Sherlock muttered. The pink phone on the table buzzed before chiming three times. The three of them peered at the photo that appeared on the screen. While Sherlock's face was confused, John and Y/N's eyes widened with recognition. The bleached blonde hair in a choppy bob, well-defined side part, dark purple eye shadow, red lips, and big, bold, shiny earrings could only be one person.

"That could be anybody," Sherlock grumbled.

"Well, it could be, yeah." John shrugged. "Lucky for you, Y/N and I have too much time on our hands."

"How d'you mean?" Sherlock asked, glancing between the two of them.

"Lucky for you, Mrs. Hudson, Y/N, and I watch far too much telly," John clarified. Turning over his shoulder, John pointed to the television in the cafe's corner.

The woman from the photo appeared on the screen. She said With a bright, cheery smile, "Thank you, Tyra! Doesn't she look lovely, everybody, now?"

Suddenly, the pink phone rang, pulling the group's attention away from the telly.

"Anyway, speaking of silk purses and sows' ears…," the television continued.

"Hello?" Sherlock answered.

"This one… is a bit… defective. Sorry. She's blind," the voice cracked. Y/N's eyes widened, and she quickly covered her mouth to silence any leaking noise. "This is… a funny one. I'll give you… twelve hours."

"Why are you doing this?" Sherlock asked.

"I like… to watch you… dance," the woman gasped, and the phone call ended.

Y/N paled as she looked at Sherlock. She always called it 'dancing' when Sherlock solved his cases. That's the only way she could explain it to others. With each puzzle, the fear in Y/N's stomach pooled. Yes, this was for Sherlock, but she began questioning her role in it all. Not everything could be a coincidence: her flat, the familiarity of Moriarty, now the dancing. It all leads to her being a target, too.

The telly seemed to deafen Y/N's anxious thoughts,"…continuing into the sudden death of the popular TV personality, Connie Prince. Miss Prince, famous for her make-over programs, was found dead two days ago by her brother in the house they shared in Hampstead…"

As they watched the television, Y/N made a silent prayer. A prayer that they'd solve these cases, catch whoever Moriarty was, and, most of all, have everyone make it out in the end. Peering over at Sherlock, she prayed that he'd solve it in time and, if her worst fears were confirmed, save her.

______

Y/N only needed one glance at the body before she was confident she was going to be sick. She'd seen bodies before. It was all a part of the job, but after the dancing men case, seeing the dead only made things harder. Y/N blamed it on her empathy. She cared too much about people. It didn't matter if they were people she knew, watched on the television, or just everyday folks whom she passed by on the street. People were people, and no one deserved to die in a manner like this. No one deserved to be killed.

"Connie Prince," Lestrade stated as he looked down at the body on the slab. Sherlock circled around the table, scanning every aspect of the deceased woman. "Fifty-four. She had one of those make-over shows on the telly. Did you see it?"

"No," Sherlock shook his head as Y/N and John nodded.

Lestrade took note of John and Y/N's reaction and turned to the conversation with them, allowing Sherlock the space to work his magic. "Very popular. She was going places," Lestrade said.

Before John could concur, Sherlock interjected, "Not anymore."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group, and Y/N felt the contents of her stomach stir. She swore there was a bathroom somewhere down the hall.

"So," Sherlock continued, unaffected by the silence he created. "Dead two days. According to one of her staff, Raoul de Santos, she cut her hand on a rusty nail in the garden. Nasty wound," he noted, looking at the cut along the palm of her hand. "Tetanus bacteria enters the bloodstream. Good night, Vienna."

"I suppose," John murmured.

Sherlock stopped prowling around the body and frowned. "Something's wrong with this picture," he said.

"Eh?" Lestrade raised a brow.

"Can't be as simple as it seems," Sherlock explained. "Otherwise, the bomber wouldn't be directing us towards it. Something's wrong. John?"

"Mmm?" John hummed, looking away from the body.

"The cut on her hand: it's deep; would have bled a lot, right?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded, "Yeah." Then he began to walk around the body just as Sherlock had, hoping to uncover the fault in the picture. However, no matter how much he scrunched his face, he could find anything.

"But the wound's clean – very clean and fresh. How long would the bacteria have been incubating inside her?" Sherlock questioned.

"Eight, ten days," John answered. Immediately, his eyes widened. "The cut was made later."

"After she was dead?" Greg asked in clarification, stepping to the body to look at the cut.

"Must have been. The only question is," Sherlock wondered, "how did the tetanus enter the dead woman's system?" Sherlock whirled around to John and Y/N. "You two want to help, right?"

"Of course," John replied. Y/N nodded, trying to keep her food down.

"Connie Prince's background – family history, everything. Give me data," Sherlock instructed.

"Right," John said, making haste to leave the room. He flashed Y/N a look of concern as the two of them left the room, who whispered she was fine.

"There's something else that we haven't thought of," said Lestrade once Y/N and John were gone.

"Is there?" Sherlock pondered.

"Yes. Why is he doing this," Lestrade began, "the bomber? If this woman's death was suspicious, why point it out?"

"Good Samaritan," Sherlock jokingly stated.

"…who press-gangs suicide bombers?" questioned Lestrade.

Sherlock frowned. "Bad Samaritan."

"I'm – I'm serious, Sherlock." Lestrade pulled Sherlock to face him, staring him deep in the eye. "Listen, I'm cutting you slack here; I'm trusting you, and so is John and Y/N – but out there somewhere, some poor bastard's covered in Semtex and is just waiting for you to solve the puzzle. So just tell me - what are we dealing with?"

"Something new," Sherlock said with an unconscious smile growing on his face. "Come with me, Gary."

"Where are we going?" Greg asked as Sherlock hastily left the room without answering him. "…and it's Greg."

It was not long before Greg discovered their destination, 221 B Baker Street. However, he was still unsure why Sherlock had him come along. His dark eyes watched as Sherlock paced and twirled around the room, muttering to himself. Sometimes, Lestrade questioned whether or not this was all a show. Sherlock seemed to enjoy impressing an audience, not that Greg doubted Sherlock's abilities. The consulting detective was a genius; that knowledge was a certainty. It was the performance, the pauses, eye rolls, and smirks as he deducted each crime scene. It was almost as if Sherlock was excessively enjoying this all.

"Connection, connection, connection," Sherlock mumbled. "There must be a connection. Carl Powers was killed twenty years ago. The bomber knew him; admitted that he knew him." Lestrade nodded, trying to follow along." The bomber's iPhone was in stationery from the Czech Republic. First hostage from Cornwall; the second from London; the third from Yorkshire, judging by her accent." Sherlock stopped and looked at his makeshift mural on the living room wall with pictures of evidence from each puzzle. "What's he doing – working his way round the world? Showing off?"

"Sound like someone I know," Lestrade wanted to say, but the pink phone rang before he could.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" the old woman repeated to Sherlock. "Joining the… dots. Three hours. Boom… boom," she sobbed before the phone was cut off.

Sherlock lowered the phone. The game had begun long ago, and now it was nearing its end. He could feel it deep within him and was determined to win.

_____

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_____

[ohbo-ohno]

asking for any pricegaz thoughts if u have any 🙏

okay hold on give me a sec. i have thoughts to throw at the wall and hope they stick and make some amount of sense (scroll to the bottom for the fic ideas i have for them but will probably never write 👍)

((tw if you don't know my blog: discussion of toxic and abusive relationships below. i write dark fic))

so the power dynamic between price and gaz has the potential to be sssoooo hot to me, but it doesn't quite Click in the way i was expecting tbh? it took me a while to think of why but i think it's because gaz like... has too much of a spine

like okay: no matter how ooc it might be, in my head soap is disgustingly easy for ghost. would do anything he says, no matter how much he doesn't want to. but gaz feels like he's more likely to say no, to stand his ground and put up a fight

which totally makes the potential toxic dynamic between he and price way more interesting. price would have to use manipulation and more subtle methods to get gaz firmly in the palm of his hand, where ghost just has to shove soap hard enough in the direction he wants, yk?

and like. i love that. older man in power seeing this younger man and molding him slowly but surely into the exact shape he wants, doing it slowly and carefully enough to make sure he doesn't even realize what's happening (because the younger man would hate it). that bit where gaz questions what they're doing and price basically says "be okay with it or get out of my sight" despite gaz clearly being uncomfortable? ohhhhh there's something delicious there

here's the problem: if you've read anything i've ever written ever, you know it's mostly porn. i'm not very good at writing plot, and it's something i'm trying to work on in the depths of my google docs, but i know what my strengths are - sex scenes. in my ghoap fics, that's easy. ghost noncons soap, usually forcefully. but with the dynamic price and gaz need? a fic for them (in my mind) needs way more focus on plot and the way price is manipulating gaz

that being said, if i had the patience? and the confidence in my writing? these are the fics i'd write for pricegaz:

cult leader price x undercover cop gaz. price knows gaz is a cop as soon as he comes to their little town, but gaz thinks he's still undercover. i think i'd have price slowly coax gaz into his viewpoint, drawing him closer and closer to him (with the added bonus that he doesn't even have to be the one to cut gaz off from the outside world). i think eventually gaz would come to a Sharp Realization, and price would be forced to.... extremes to keep him. i think it would be very hannibal/will, with gaz trying to deny that he's fallen to price's level but eventually being forced to confront the fact that he doesn't really want to turn price in anymore

maybe something similar to ruyfylb - maybe truck driver price and his favorite lot lizard, gaz? a consensual exchange but gaz would definitely not be prostituting himself if he didn't have to, and he's not great at pretending to enjoy his time with price (which is what price really enjoys)

fisherman price x selkie gaz. idk the intricacies of this one, and you could totally make it nikgazprice, but i'd like to see jailer price who is resolute in his unwillingness to let gaz go while still trying to keep him happy. he's stern and strict but he does try to make gaz comfortable, yk? i think that dynamic would be interesting, but very slow since gaz isn't the fieriest of characters. i do not excel at slow lol

historical au - gaz has a distant relative who's just died and he inherits a title with no warning. when he travels to the country estate that's his new home, he meets the head servant john price. you could have price teaching gaz how to be duke (or whatever the title is) and keep that power dynamic, while also getting to lowkey have rich boy x mean older man smut. so like. win-win. ((just think of price bending gaz over and spanking him or railing him while having him recite his paperwork out loud to make sure he's reading....))

[zaccosnacco]

Poisonous Fires (1)

So gonna post the first part of this little story I’ve been writing! Tell me what you guys think!!

Content warnings include: Swearing and Graphic descriptions of someone being set on fire

This is the beginning of a Holyfire/Fieryworship story (Skiddad x Ignacio)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was some muffled talking from beyond the window, someone was listening in on the conversation that was transpiring. Quiet, a figure in a crimson cloak got closer to the window. Inside viewed a board, evidence plastered all over it connected by thin velvet strings, that was a problem.

Two policemen were idly chatting, though it was hard to pick up on what they were talking about besides what was in front of them. One seemed to quickly turn towards the window though, suspicious of the thing lingering just outside the view of that said window. He was on to him. The other cop however seemed to roll his eyes, suggesting something and –

The two were heading out.

Now was his chance, the evidence was left sitting in the room, they didn’t even try to cover it up in case someone happened to peer through the window. They had just simply flipped the light off and left. This was almost too perfect.

Ignacio was the one who was watching them previously, he had been sent to get rid of the evidence, rid the police if necessary as well. But sadly he had to save that for another day. The cult would still be very proud that he at least did the first thing. He had no objections really, he got to set something on fire which was his specialty. If he was lucky this place will burn to the ground before the two came back.

For now he had to get inside first, which was relatively easy. Nobody was here after all. So he crashed a window and crawled through. His cloak however got caught on a shard of jagged glass before he could fully get inside, which caused him to stumble over onto the floor. Doing anything in these cloaks was hell, but he couldn’t just not wear it. It covered his identity under its crimson folds, just in case the cops were to interrupt him. Getting the fabric caught on everything was just a small price to pay. It however didn’t help with how embarrassing it was to trip around, he was supposed to be feared, not a clutz.

His cloak tore a bit as he finally forced himself inside, practically throwing himself so he would continue, and he landed right into the pile of jagged shards. Wonderful. It wasn’t too much of a big deal to him though, it was just glass. His cloak was perfect for protecting him from all the cuts too, another bonus, he told himself that.

He went to stand quietly, brushing the shards off of him for a moment before heading into the main room he wanted to be in. The evidence room, or some sort of office in this house. And to the cultists' shock there was a lot of incriminating stuff. Well it wasn’t too shocking, these policemen have been on the case for so long now. It would be a shame if it all went up in flames wouldn’t it?

Ignacio stepped closer to the board, inspecting the pictures and newspapers one by one. This reminded him of something you’d see a conspiracy nut have. But he didn’t want to look too closely, it didn’t matter in the end. They didn’t even seem that close to figuring anything out. But some of this stuff was still damning. Especially the picture of the cultist. Ignacio eyed it lightly, now how did the police get this picture?

He shouldn’t be staying in this place for too long though, he had a time limit and didn’t know when the cops would be back. So Ignacio dug into his pockets, pulling out a metallic lighter, new and shiny just for this occasion, the flame even excited dancing around when opened. His excitement easily matched the flames as he went to linger it closer to the evidence board, lightly toasting the photos before he completely set it ablaze.

The hungry fire eagerly devoured the wooden board, it barely stood a chance against the embers. Ignacio smirked as he backed up, seeing his work spread.. Really quickly. It never dawned on him how fast this building would feed the flames but now he was witnessing it.

Panic, lots of panic. He stumbled backwards, looking around for the quickest exit. He really didn’t want to get eaten by his own creation, they would have no mercy on him. This cloak was especially becoming a bigger problem. On his way to dash for his exit he ended up completely tripping over it, landing right into some of the flares.

It only seemed like a flash before the cultists cloak became engulfed in flames, the previous crimson fabric charing around the edges now. Ignacio stumbled upwards, trying to beat the fire off of him as he backed into the window he had come in from. It wasn’t working though, the fire kept spreading. It was almost surprising how he was still able to remain quiet, especially when he started to feel the flares make contact with his skin.

He urged to scream out, but instead he quickly pulled his hood off to at least protect his face in some way. The fire kept spreading though, eating at his legs and causing his knees to buckle right at the window. He slammed into that said window, more of the left over glass shattering as he fell and stumbled onto the ground beside it. His exit was set ablaze by him too, he hadn’t even realized at first until more flames consumed him.

Now they were eating at his arm, Ignacio finally making a sound of panic as the flames climbed up each of his limbs. He could feel tearing, bleeding, and an ungodly amount of pain. He cursed and cursed as he stumbled upwards again, nothing was stopping his destructive creation, it was going to eat him alive.

This whole mission was a terrible idea, he should have known this from the start. But his fiery urges pushed him forward, as a pyromaniac it felt like heaven being able to light something on fire no matter how big nor how small. Ignacio was sure the only thing he had ever loved were these flames. Yet, they were going to be the very thing that was going to end him. Almost ironic in a way, he didn’t have many objections.

He still fought desperately, to the point where it was getting hard to breathe. All the smoke, all the blaze, it was engulfing him slowly and he was sure he lost his chance to leave this house ages ago.

The hungry flames reached his torso and finally he was forced down, his legs couldn’t handle anymore of this. The pain, all pain. The fiery blaze was easily ravenging him like a lion at this point, his cloak couldn’t protect him from this. He felt like screaming now, a ditch effort? It felt pathetic though, you really are going to scream like a little bitch because you accidently stepped on an ember? He couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth, it wasn’t worth it.

Ignacio just sat against a counter, god knows when he even got into this room. Things were blurring together.

He finally did it, screaming out when the flames touched his face. His rest of his body had became numb a while ago from the scolding temperatures.

He just had to hope anyone heard him, though it was already too late in the long run. He collapsed finally, his body sliding onto its side as the flames traced the counter he had been previously against. This was it, his stupidity had gotten him killed. The very flames he loved mangled his body, chewing at the skin, muscles and.. It stopped.

It stopped, never hitting anything vital and barely reaching more than his cheek. Despite this he was still unconscious, not dead. He could barely breathe, yeah, but his body was stopping any more physical damage.

A pump of energy pulsed through him, causing him to suddenly cough and wheeze. His body trembling, but still no sign of getting up.

And no sign that he did, however it became apparent that he had been noticed as missing. Not by the police, but by the cult. They knew the place had been set on a fiery blaze, but where was the prideful culprit? It would be simply embarrassing if he had burnt himself to death, or was fed to the house fire.

Nobody will come back for him.

–

Suddenly there was that blurred reality again, his eyes struggling to adjust. Was he dead? He did seem to get eaten by flames earlier, yet his body only ached. He would almost tear up from it if he didn’t know better. He groaned lightly, pushing himself to sit up with a light tremble. Where was he?

Ignacio shook his head, looking around again. It didn’t really look like a burnt house.. But his stubborn vision still hadn’t come back to him. He just knew he was sitting on something soft, sitting against something rough and that it seemed dark.

“Ignacio.” Someone suddenly spoke, freaking the arsonist out for a moment as he scrambled to come to his senses. Someone else was here, who else was here?

He went to speak up in response, only to be met with incoherent choking. He wanted to demand who that was, but he couldn’t. It seemed his throat had taken a bit of damage during his unfortunate circumstances. But it better not be permanent, he would be miffed if he wouldn’t be able to tell people off anymore.

“Don’t speak, you took quite a large amount of damage, yeah?” The person spoke again, right they were still here. Ignacio choked on a growl in response, hostility was his nature. Though his hostility seemed to gain a chuckle from the unknown figure near him.

Now that he thought about it he almost recognized that voice. It was smooth and almost charismatic, it annoyed him with the familiarity.

Ignacio went to rub his head lightly, hearing another snicker from the person. It was pricking away at his nerves though, who did this guy think he was?

Finally the cultist's vision was coming to him, his eyes adjusting to the new location. He was outside, the prickly feeling under him being grass. It was night time still, it must have not been that long.. Or it had been days that he was out, he wasn’t sure but his body still hadn’t fully recovered.

“Ah, have you finally come to your senses? You’ve been out for a while, it's to be expected that your body is still disoriented.” The person spoke again, getting closer and kneeling over to the burnt man.

Ignacio could hardly believe his eyes, the person who was with him he did know. However last time he checked he had been in the ground.

The man before him tilted his head, that familiar smirk plastered on his face. His hair still long and black, not even looking a mess. He still wore almost all black, except for a different red turtleneck that the arsonist has never seen him wear before. Then there was the pendant, which was new too. Not like the pendants were a new thing to the cult he just has never seen this wicked man sport one before, because.

He was the cult's previous leader, Father Leviathan. Him being perfectly alive was almost shocking, especially to Ignacio who just seemed to stare in shock to the others' amusement.

“Ignacio, I can see you recognize me. It has been a while hasn’t it?” Leviathan spoke, casually holding out his hand for the arsonist in front of him. But to nothing, Ignacio didn’t even reach back, in disbelief. He was so such he was dead, did that mean that he himself was dead? Was he hallucinating? The cultist just couldn’t figure this out.

The leader didn’t seem to care that Ignacio didn’t take his hand, casually going to grab his hand himself and pull the dude up. The arsonist had found himself gasping, the sudden pain that flooded him was indescribable. Leviathan took note of this, though he seemed to be inspecting him lightly with a hum.

“Can you walk? You look shaky, and it would be truly embarrassing if you collapsed in front of me.” Leviathan asked bluntly, still holding onto Ignacio's hand as he helped him stand. He wasn’t expecting a response though, it seemed like the arsonist fried his vocal cords. He would have expected more complaining from him by now if he could talk.

Ignacio still seemed startled, a lot was going on at once. The pain, the awakening, and seeing the face of the leader again. Not to say it was very pleasant of a surprise, Leviathan had a way of getting on his nerves when he had been previously alive.

The arsonist suddenly tried to speak up again, choking and coughing a sentence that was barely understandable. “W… w-hy are.. … y-you so c… cas.. sual.” He stammered, his tone almost harsh if it wasn’t for the painful choking. Despite this Leviathan heard him completely coherently.

“Casual? Of all the questions in your mind you ask that, why you should already know nothing is a big deal, especially for me.” Leviathan replied, his signature smirk still not disappearing. He however suddenly pulled Ignacio closer to him. “I can answer the question about my previous death though, you see. The eyes of the universe would never let me rot, it came back for me, brought me back to this mortal plane with this pendant, I can tell you’ve been so curious about that too.” He whispered casually.

Ignacio went to speak again, seem to push the leader back for a moment. He didn’t like being pulled close by anyone, let alone someone that should have been dead. He went to try and speak up again though, only Leviathan beat him to it. “I know Ignacio, it seems so strange that this necklace can do such a thing. But have you ever asked yourself how you are currently alive? You are covered in burns, almost being devoured by your own flames as you trapped yourself in that house, I bet you can still feel that dreadful feeling of the fiery flares taking your skin off slowly.”

The cultist seemed to shudder in dread, not liking the casual reminder. He could still very much feel what Leviathan was talking about. His body ached, but.. It only ached, he looked down at himself. His clothing burnt and torn up, his skin however only covered in harsh burn scars from what was exposed. It hurt but he really should of not made it out of that house like the leader had mentioned. He wasn’t sure how to feel from this. He could also still feel a ghostly burning feeling even when he wasn’t on fire anymore, he didn’t like this.

“Relax, be proud of yourself, you have proved that you are capable. Look at you, pushing through the burning pain, you stand so tall despite the tremble in your core. One could be impressed by such tolerance.” Leviathan suddenly spoke, playfully elbowing Ignacio. He was being reassuring for once, a rarity only seen by the fire enjoyer himself. It seemed the leader wasn’t all cruel with his words.

Well he wasn’t cruel to someone he was so fond of, Ignacio knew that. Except he wasn’t impressed that he was fond of him, some people would die for the leader's praise but Ignacio would rather die if he was praised, well kind of. He just didn’t appreciate this to begin with.

Leviathan will surely change that opinion though. “Oh lighten up, I never understood why you always have such a sour soul. Well, I can kind of understand, but you should really take praise instead of complaining about it mentally.” He hummed simply, going to push the shorter man's chin up so he was looking at him again.

Ignacio gave him a surprised look, of course as the cult leader he could read someone so easily.. Even someone like him who was hard to figure out. Of course this was still suspicious, how did he know what he was thinking?

Leviathan just hummed in response. “Oh my you are just filled with questions, aren’t you? All will be answered in do time, let's just get you up and out of this forest, shall we tread your place?” He suggested, his head tilted to the side lightly again, pulling Ignacio over again before he could even think of a response.

Looks like this was gonna be a long day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2800 words!! Please if you like this start to the story tell me!!

[rayclubs]

Mahlzeit,

ok since I´m a firm believer that every merc is a perfect combination of smart and stupid, I feel comfortable saying that everyone is wrong about engineer.

like no he isn´t the only one who would be capacle of realising the benefits of a union. he´s very much unable to see it because he definetely gets too tunnelvisioned as soon as his work is involved and everything not directly linked to his tasks is unnecessary.

Malzheit!

Okay, real, but do you want a TF2 political affiliations post? Because that's how you get a TF2 political affiliations post.

Scout:

The most susceptible to propaganda after maybe Soldier.

Cares about celebrities way too much and therefore is unable to recognize the utmost necessity of taxing the rich.

Probably believes in the American Dream or something.

Would not start a labor union but would join one because while dumb as a baseball, he at least understands that his ma worked really hard to support him and his gajillion brothers growing up, and that's kinda unfair and all that. Or something.

Soldier:

Can be convinced to do anything. Seems to have political affiliations, what with his anti-communist shtick, but really it's just whatever. If you sit him down and explain the actual communist ideas and how what he's actually against is dictatorship, he'll listen to you. Might take some time, but he will.

Would not start a union but would assassinate the president.

Pyro:

Mmmph?

I don't even know. Anarcho-transhumanism.

*lights self on fire and fights the cops*

Engie:

Okay I have THOUGHTS

He is a bit of a utilitarian, I think. What with him solving practical problems and all.

Graduated into the upper middle class and can't see past that because his mind is 99% the digits of Pi and all that.

Hasn't voted once in his life.

Probably actually has some misguided beliefs about labor exploitation due to being American. Like Pauling, has one vacation a year and leaves his phone on in case someone needs to reach him in an urgent work matter.

People bring up his hand as if it were the result of an OSHA violation, but like. No. He did that. He did done cut it off himself. It doesn't count.

Everything he builds is an OSHA violation.

Heavy:

Was a pioneer. You know, that Soviet thing? Kinda like an American boy scout, but with more propaganda. He got better though.

He'd be a bit wary of unions but I think he's educated enough to recognize the difference. It's just a subconscious bias, is all.

He wouldn't start a union because, while educated, he's not diplomatic. Much like Engineer "I'll break you in half" TF2, he's more used to killing the authorities than to legally opposing them.

Also his father was a revolutionary. And died for it. So yeah. Maybe he wouldn't be quite so eager to follow in his footsteps.

Demo:

I actually don't know much about labor unions in Scotland but I think Demo would be a union man.

Like. His father killed the queen for a nickel. I think the man knows enough about oppression and workers' rights to be angry about that.

Explode the rich.

"But Demo, you are rich!" - "Aye..." *killbinds*

Medic:

Already in a union.

Not politically aligned but LOVES shoplifting.

Sniper:

Individualism on main.

Would not start a union because he hasn't talked to a human being in seventeen years.

You ask him if he wants to start a union and he stares into the void for five minutes before quietly asking "...like ants?"

Can't sign up because he can't write. Why do you think he calls his parents instead of writing letters?

Actually scratch that. Can only write upside down.

Spy:

Supports whatever suits his interests.

A corporate until the labor union is strong enough, then switches sides and becomes an avid proletarian.

Also individualism on main and that's why he and Sniper get along.

Nothing like avoiding your best friend.

I don't even know. None of them would start a union actually. Medic would do it for fun. Demo would do it as a dare. Soldier would do it by accident.

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S03E09 - Grave Matters - PART A

Tumblr, I need a bigger image limit for this. Come on, it's Grave Matters!

Have I mentioned how much I love "buried underground" episodes?

I love Charlie trying to butter up people so that he can get a ride home. Also, shame on you all. Charlie is chauffeuring you everywhere. I've seen it.

He literally said, "I could make it worth your while" to Jesse. Charlesse shippers rise!

Dude offered them ribs and cocktails and still couldn't get a ride home. What the fuck?

Trying to downplay his role in a serial killer's arrest which is supposedly a big case. This Charlie Hudson I know.

I will interpret those barks as Rex sensing that something will go wrong. Or, "That's right, I'm his only friend".

Nice place to get snatched.

Now, I don't often give credit to Charlie for his thinking but in this case he was already feeling the effects of the tranquilizer, he managed to throw away the dart so that the shooter couldn't find it but later forensics would if they managed to find the area he was snatched from, and told Rex to get help, which didn't help much since Rex was also shot with a dart but still counts. That's some quick thinking right there. That was probably the maximum of information he could give the police about his abduction too at that moment.

Not that I don't like the shot, but this is the exact opposite of how he landed.

It was at that moment that he realized he was fucked.

I love men screaming. Take that however you want lol

That's cold, man. Also, he was wearing a suit which is often how they actually bury dead men. Eek.

With a few modifications, mainly at the tone of the episode, this could be a Criminal Minds case. Like, I don't think they realize what they're writing sometimes and how bullshit the "family friendly" tag is. If I had a kid, I wouldn't want them to see any crime show no matter how cute the dog was.

I like that the email is like, "for those who didn't get it in the dimly lit footage of Charlie, yes, he's buried underground in a coffin". Or if you haven't seen another crime show before which for those folks over at UpTV might actually be true.

Please, co-ordinate your reactions. I'm at a limit here!

If worried, then why so beautiful?

I pity whoever had to make gifs off of this but at the same time I'm very proud of them and thank them for their service.

"Ugh, who's yelling, I'm hammered. Wait a minute, this desperate guy is my guy yelling!"

"We do not negotiate with kidnappers". That's bullshit. There's no police in the world that wouldn't pay the ransom for a cop, or else they'd find their city with no cops pretty soon after. Now, if the request was something else, like the release of a prisoner, then there would be a problem.

Ohh, I like the transition from the coffin in the board to Charlie in the actual coffin.

That's what you get for springing for a cheap-ass coffin. He already took apart a piece of it.

If we were a bigger fandom I know people would have a field day making manips from these.

Meanwhile Rex chewed through the rope. Which we didn't see.

"You call this a fence? Look at this hole."

"SJPD policy is that we do not negotiate". SJPD has a cop ransom policy?

"We're just assuming that this is some money-grabbing copycat with no intention to kill". And they'd grab a cop for money?

Their reactions when they get the feed of Charlie in the coffin. Nice.

That's creepy.

Imagine being trapped in a coffin and the first contact you have with your captor is them saying, "I need you to tug your left ear" lmao

He figured out pretty fast that he's in a Christmas tree farm but had no way to convey it. Or he did but apparently no one thought to find a lip reader.

Some snow there. And Rex rocking the "I just freed myself" look with the cut rope.

"He's losing it". You guys are going to lose it before him, I assure you.

No, seriously, how do you not have one lip reader in a precinct full of people?

"I have to do everything around here" mood.

Surely every one of us would take out a 300k loan for a colleague.

"We're supposed to be a unified front". No. This is a bullshit policy.

I think Sarah has only ever yelled when one of the people she cares for is in danger.

Oh, look at her. She needs a hug.

Thank you.

Sarah: "We need some kind of miracle". Rex: "At your service."

"Rex is a crime scene now". Why is this so funny?

Sarah: "You wanna come inside [the lab]?" Rex: "This is a trick, right?"

"Sorry, but you're going to have to come with me."

Imagine being held in a place where all you could listen to was Christmas music. Imagine the PTSD from that being triggered every time there was a Christmas song. That would pretty much ruin Christmas forever.

Yeah, Charlie trying to tell them about the sprinklers made me cringe my life. It's not his fault. There's just not a serious way to mimic a sprinkler.

Joe: "I think [Rex] is out of sorts without Charlie". Rex: "I am merely resting before my next heroic action."

Rude. Also, wishful thinking. That man is a cockroach.

I love it here.

Hit my image limit. To be continued in PART B.

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Friday everyone! We are in the final 5 episodes of S1. Can't believe it. Thank you to everyone who's been on this ride with me.

1x16 Greenlight

Let me start with this. This is the episode I always dread watching for s1. Not cause it isn’t good. Its very good. Heartbreaking but well done. Always makes me cry with Capt Anderson... Well off we go. FYI This episode was sadly a gif desert. Which is sad since it's Zoe Anderson's Swan Song. So I'm going to be using a lot of screen shots I took with my phone to fill the gaps ha.

Episode starts off with Capt Anderson telling them all about doing reversals this week. Having undercover cops making sure everyone is on the up and up. Reporting back to IA what they discover. Tim isn’t a fan of these. Feels it’s just cops ratting out other cops. Think's its a waste of time and resources.

Lucy needless to say has an opinion on the matter. She thinks if it helps their image to the public she doesn’t see the problem. That it even sounds like its worth doing. Tim being the deeply loyal person he is doesn’t see it that way. (He also has some past issues with IA) He sees it as a betrayal not something that will help them in the long run internally. Tim goes on to say it has to do with trust. How can they trust one another if they’re trying to get each other to screw up?

Lucy makes a crack about his Tim tests in her rebuttal. You can see it rubs him the wrong way when she does. Always challenging him. I do love that about her. Makes him think about why he does what he does. His heart is in the right place when it comes to those tests. Especially with Lucy. I think whenever she gives him crap for his tests it unintentionally brings up his dad issues. Its why he's so defensive. That's far in the future those being addressed but I think it still holds true. Clearly she has no idea she's doing that. He sure as hell doesn't realize thats the reason yet either. But that's a discussion to be had in the distant future.

To Tim he’s building her up to be the best cop she can be. Doing it to protect her for when she’s on her own someday. To have Lucy reach the potential he see's in her. If he didn’t do that he would fail her as her T.O. So once again his intentions are good natured when to comes to that. To her. For Tim its giving her the best tools he can. Lucy knows this but can’t help but give him a hard time about it. She wouldn't be her if she didn’t do this. Hehe it’s written all over her face in that last gif above.

First off I love me some wet Tim Bradford. A+ visual right here. Second Lucy is so cute being all star struck by Mario Lopez. It is funny to watch Tim be rude to him. Because Mario and Eric are close in real life. Sure they both had a blast filming this scene. That cute little smile on her face dissipates when Tim hands her back his stuff.

She knows it’s right back to business. Mario takes the worst tactic he could with them. Honestly its what gives him away. By trying to bribe his way out of his ticket. Tim is already on edge due to these reversals and this sets him off. As he is reading Mario the riot act he realizes this is a reversal. Then he looks over and see’s Murphy from IA in her car across the street. He sets off to talk with her.

She makes a bitchy comment right off the bat. That if she knew it was going to be him, she would’ve put a strung out cop behind the wheel. He would let them get away with it then. I want to punch her in the damn face. He’s worked so hard to get past all that and she’s drudging it up like it’s nothing. There is a history there we don't know about just yet as the viewer. All I do know is I do NOT like her.

After this Tim goes fully off and lists a million different ways to write him up. Lucy just stands there not sure if he’s serious or not. Poor Tim…Murphy pulling at the sutures of his emotional wound so he’s lashing out. Lucy has no idea what she said to him or why he's going off. Mario's reaction to the laundry list of offenses is too funny.

They later respond to a break in at a grow house. Guy who broke in is stuck in a bear trap. Tim was already on edge before but after his talk with Murphy he’s off the charts. Guy says he’ll split half the crop with them if they let him go. Lucy laughs and Tim says ‘Ok’ her reaction is hilarious LOL

He mentions Detective Murphy and reporting back to her. See if she would like that deal. The guy is confused af as is Lucy. It’s shortly after that she realizes Tim thinks this is another reversal. Murphy got in his head so quickly makes me sad. Has Tim all turned around and he's convinced this is a second reversal. He tries to remove the bear trap from the guys legs thinking its a fake. Tim quickly realizes it’s real...and the guy passes out.

They get back to the station and Lucy says he’s lucky that guy gonna keep his leg. It's clear he isn't in the moods for jokes. Tim is agitated and replies it’s the reversals not him. That Murphy has gotten in his head. (To say the least love) Otherwise he would've realized that guys injury was real. Lucy can sense there is more going on here than he’s saying. No one has ever been able to read Tim Bradford the way she does. She knows its more than just the reversals that is under his skin.

Lucy asks what went down between him and Detective Murphy? She's trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Wondering what is at the root of his anger today. She asks if he was investigated by her or something. He tries to be vague and say ‘Indirectly...’ It’s then Lucy puts two and two together and realizes it’s about Isabel. She voices this thought. Tim freezes and takes a deep breath before he explains the connection she suspects.

Lucy is confused why this detective is giving him a hard time still. She doesn't understand why she's coming at him so hard. Lucy mentions he’s not Isabel so what’s her beef with him? She's coming off a little protective of him in the process. (which I love) Its her natural instinct to try and work this out with him.

Their relationship is in a weird limbo at this point. Where they aren’t friends yet, but it’s clear what they have is more than the standard T.O./Rookie relationship. They’re still establishing what’s going on between them. So things are bound to still be a little rocky especially when his personal life is involved. Regardless of this fact her concern for him and his well being is evident and she voices as such.

Sadly Tim isn’t in the headspace to receive it and snaps at her. His reply is reminiscent of his early days with her. Her reaching out only to get her head bit off. Only this time she walks away dejected, retreating to lick her emotional wounds. No retort for her. It feels like he's regressing in this moment. Tim has grown a lot but also still has a long way to go. This is showing that Isabel is still such a sore spot for him. Not only that but Murphy has gone after something dear to him. His integrity and character.

The way she popped off about Isabel was her shot at that. Tim isn’t ready to open up to Lucy right now. This a wound that has only just begun to scab over. He’s currently in his head raging and fighting demons he thought he had put to rest. Makes me more agitated with Murphy tbh. The fact that she's brought this angry insecurity out in him.

I do love Tim being the first to stand up for Nolan when he shows up after being Green-lit. Him coming back to work was a big decision. Everyone follows suit after Tim. Something sexy about him doing that to me. Probably one of the very rare times he actually admires Nolan as a cop LOL

Tim see’s the detective as they’re gearing up to go out and engages her. Asking why she’s here. The way Murphy misjudges Tim makes my blood boil. Her POV of him is so skewed. She is trying to get him to crack under pressure. She is goading him in order to get him to snap like Isabel did. Having this vendetta against him because of what happened before. It's so wrong. Like she’s never had someone she loved enough to be blind when they’ve messed up. The hurt in his eyes makes me wanna cry. You can see the shift in them from anger to shame in that first gif. Damnit Eric you’re killing me. Goes on to say she’s gonna file a conduct unbecoming complaint against him. Tim instantly gets defensive. Tells her what a Busch League move that is.

Lucy spots the way she is riling him up. Baiting him. Steps in and distracts him away from her. Such a good wifey. What I love about this scene other than the obvious protective Lucy we get to see. Its the fact she is using the same mechanisms on him that he does for her when she’s highly emotional. Tim knows she doesn’t actually need his help. That Lucy is using it as diversion but he listens. She gets him to disengage and walk away. Which is HUGE. She knows him so well and is protecting him from further battle with this woman.

The look on Lucy’s face when she basically tells a superior officer to F-off is glorious. She does this in the most Lucy way ever. Meaning business but respectful by tacking ‘ma’am ‘ on at the end haha F U with a cushion. Lucy isn’t going to let this woman throw Tim off balance anymore than she already has. She takes a stand and makes her back the hell off him. I love seeing protective Lucy. She’s watched Murphy rattle his cage all damn episode. This anger she is invoking in Tim is making him go crazy and regress.

I know his short fuse earlier with Lucy was due to this. He hasn't snapped at her like that in awhile. The detective has no idea the emotional wounds she’s re-opening. The way she’s split his focus since their first convo earlier. Or maybe she does.. Either way Lucy isn’t going to stand for it any longer. That's what this scene represents. Her shoving back best she can to give him breathing room. She has his back 100 % and will protect Tim from her. So proud of her. Standing up for him when he was too muddled to do it for himself.

We get to part of the episode I dread the most..but I have to say watching the balls on Anderson during this scene is amazing. Her and Nolan get captured by Cole and she shows no fear only confidence. Telling him what an idiot he was for capturing a police captain. She was such a BAMF till the very end. Took out his entire crew single handed. This was after she un-cuffed herself by breaking her thumb underwater.

God this scene is hard to watch every single time I have to do it. The only reason she died was an errant bullet from Cole. It’s as unfair as its gets and a very tragic end to her character. The look on her face as she falls back into the water. Ugh hurts to watch happen. If nothing else she went down like the bad ass we all know she was though. Nolan holding her as they all arrive kills me. The utter shock on all their faces when they see their captain lying there. Beyond heartbreaking.

If this scene right here doesn’t make you tear up I think you might be dead inside lol The reactions from everyone as they wheel her out. Especially Lucy and Angela. My heart. The way they’re all trying to keep it together and saluting her. That single tear Angela lets escape after she's loaded into the ambulance. Ugh hurts my heart. Such a gut punch from the writers. I remember being so shook when this first aired. Nolan telling her how sorry he is. It's all kinds of sad.

Grey comes in like a raging bull after Midas, he easily gives up his son when he finds out he’s killed their captain. Tells them where he's going to be. They all wait at a check point for him to arrive. Tim and Lucy are standing together readying themselves. Tim is trying to console her. He knows she and the Capt. were close. Had a bond.

Tim Tells her whether this guy lives or dies it won’t make things better. Lucy says she knows and he answers her you only think you do. She tells him she can’t handle him telling her that grief will make her better cop right now. His reply is perfection. ‘I'm not. Grief is grief. It’s a hole that can’t be filled. But over time, it’ll shrink enough so that you won’t fall in every time you take a step.’

You can see he reverts back to the Tim he was before his run ins with Murphy. He continues on tells her if she’s going to use anything to be a better cop it’ll be her life not her death. You can see its resonates with Lucy. The look on her face shows its hitting home. It's a damn shame this moment doesn't have a gif set. it’s a wonderful one between them.

Tim sees Detective Murphy after they arrest Cole and goes after her despite Lucy’s protests. He’s ready to throw down again when she says Grey wanted her to witness this. For IA to see how well they were going to handle it. She says she’s sorry about their Captain. That she really liked her. Also lets him know she wasn’t going forward with his conduct unbecoming complaint against him.

That he was right. It was Busch League. She turns to leave and Tim stops her. He then does something I don’t think Murphy expects. He tells her she was right too. Says Anderson would want him to say this. Which I adore so much. He's honoring her by doing this. Her impact was so profound on all of them.

I’m so damn proud of him in this scene. Look at my man continue to grow. He’s completely honest with her. Admits his part in her being an addict and not reporting it towards the end. He is so god damn sincere in the way he explains it. Gets me. Says at the end of the day she was his wife and all he wanted was to help her.

Murphy sees this and finally relents. Asking Tim how she’s doing now. He tells her she’s better. She’s clean. Murphy is also sincere and tells him she’s glad and walks away. Their conflict finally at rest. His strides forward as a character are still there. Just took a little backseat with his issues/demons being re-opened against his will. He’s not a perfect man and that's ok. Makes him so real He's a beautiful WIP. ❤️

~~~~

Non Chenford Notes-

The whole SL with Anderson kills me. She had a short stint on this show but such an impactful one. I always mourn her when she goes.

Sorry for the lack of gifs there wasn’t a ton to choose from. But it’s a damn good ep none the less. Emotional af for lot of reasons. Gets me every time I rewatch it.

Thank you all for your continued support through likes, reblogs and comments. They mean more to me than you know. Shall see you all in 1x17 :)

[ranwing]

So... how much of a clusterfuck was The Winchesters finale?

A massive one, in my humble opinion. This show turned out to be a classic bait and switch. It got sold to the audience as one thing, but with the conclusion turned out to be something else completely.

Let's just start off with the biggest issue - the story of John and Mary and how their love saved the world? Complete bullshit. John and Mary had nothing to do with the final conclusion of the series. They were not even the John and Mary that we grew to know and have deeply conflicted feelings about. They were an alternate version, existing in one of the many alternate universes that Chuck liked to play with. They weren't Sam and Dean's parents and might not ever come to have a Sam and/or Dean of their own.

This is, IMO, exceedingly sloppy writing. We knew from the very start that this was the most likely scenario, as there was no way that TW would fit in with original SPN cannon without massive retcons so this allowed the writers to basically thrown cannon into the shredder because nothing mattered. They could screw around with the mythology and do whatever they wanted because it's an alternate universe. As a writer, this pisses me off because even when writing AUs, there need to be some ground rules to connect with the premise of the original series. This just gave them an out for poor research and sloppy writing.

Which brings us to another major problem. How was there an alternate universe for Dean to play around in when we were told in the final season of SPN that Chuck had destroyed every reality except for the one that our Sam and Dean existed in. Unless Jack went out of his way to create a universe for Dean to jump into, there was no way for this to work with SPN lore. If Jack was now God and could fix all of the damage Chuck had done, why didn't he just deal with the Akrida? Why did Dean need to step in to protect the reality that Sam was currently still living in?

Then we have the biggest issue and that was how Dean was used. Or rather, Jensen since there wasn't a whole lot of Dean there. When the series was first announced and Jared's/Sam's fans were livid that he was being completely excluded from the series (and hadn't even been told that Jensen was ready to move ahead with it before the announcement was made), we were assured that this was all about John and Mary and that Dean would be, at most, a passive narrator. That Jared wasn't deliberately excluded and all would make sense. Well, it did make sense that we were lied to. Whether they realized that trying to make the show about John and Mary just wasn't resonating with the audience and tossing Dean into a more active role was something of a hail Mary, or this was the plan all along, Dean ended up being not just the McGuffin, but the hero of the story. He gets to save the day and all of reality.

This makes it painfully clear that this show wasn't about trying to explore other stories in the SPN universe. This was about Jensen's ego. That he was still upset that his character wasn't the last man standing, even when he admits that narratively it made more sense for Sam to be. This was about giving him the opportunity to be the big solo hero without having to share screen time with Jared. I can't say whether this was what Jensen and CM had originally planned or whether it became necessary to salvage the lackluster storyline, but it turned out to be an empty exercise of hubris and ego.

And I'm sorry, but trying to excuse Sam's erasure by having Dean claim that he was doing this because he had "family" in his own verse (who he couldn't even bring himself to call by name) was a cheap cop out. It doesn't make up for how Jensen and Dannell acted when putting this mess together and how he treated Jared. It was a slap in the face to the majority of the SPN audience, who watched because we loved both the brothers.

If there is any justice in the universe, the network will see this as the failure that it was and that the SPN legacy should never have been put in the hands of an inexperienced production company or when one of the leads is deliberately excluded. TW does not in any way warrant or need a second season and this should been tossed away a the failed experiment that it was.

Sorry Jensen, but you shat the bed. This dumpster fire is all on you.

[goldcranes]

i am obsessed with your writing!!!! especially Lawless and Sleeper Hit! i would love to know:

In Lawless, what is a happy, post-fic headcanon you have about Arthur and Kitty?

If you were ever to do a sequel to Lawless, what do you think might happen in it?

Which part of Sleeper Hit was the hardest to write?

What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

you don't have to answer everything/all of them if you don't want to! i just love your work and am so curious about your writing process and these fics in particular!

Thank you so so much for this! And thank you for reading and loving my fics ❤️ This means so much to me! Ask as many questions as you want! Behind the scenes fic ask meme

Post-fic Lawless headcanon: I have so many, but I think my top two favourites are that Arthur ends up working with horses as much as he ends up running the ranch with John/managing the cattle – he takes on a lot of problem horses to “fix” and doesn’t sell on quite as many as he should, so a regular little herd develops on the land. I also like to imagine that their descendants stay right there on that ranch for generations, and in “today” time they’re right there still, not far from Yosemite, and family legend says they’re descended from a pair of notorious outlaws who dodged the cops and started a new life for themselves there. The two outlaws being Arthur and John of course – because despite Arthur’s attempts to threaten him off, John’s son Jack falls madly in love with Arthur and Kathryn’s daughter Elizabeth and they take over the ranch together. Which leads into…

If I were to do a Lawless sequel: it would be Jack and Elizabeth’s story, including their frustrations with their younger siblings, their attempts to find out their parents’ real story, and their slow and heady descent from childhood friends into all-encompassing love.

Which part of Sleeper Hit was hardest to write: it was definitely the “parents” (Maverick and Penny) finding out about the relationship – I inserted it at about five different points in the story in a bunch of different ways and it just was not right no matter what I did. Then the idea of Bradley getting shot down occurred to me, and I knew I finally had a place to put that big reveal where it wouldn’t irrevocably damage any of those crucial relationships.

A line/scene I’m really proud of: it’s incredibly mundane, but I really love the scene in Sleeper Hit where Amelia bails out of her dad’s house and calls Maverick from Lancaster. It just felt like a really lovely encapsulation of their relationship as I was writing it, and honestly as much as I adore Bradley/Amelia, it was the Amelia-Maverick father/daughter relationship I ended up loving most in that fic. I was really pleased with how the dialogue flowed and the transition from the edginess, sadness and anger Amelia felt at her father’s to the ease, trust and laughter she feels with Maverick. And then of course it results in Amelia’s stay at Bradley’s house, and I very much like how that ends 🌝

Which part of writing I struggle with most: 100% sticking with things. It’s infuriating how little staying power I have and how easily I get distracted by shiny new ideas. It’s one of the main reasons I post massive long oneshots old-school style for so many fics – I have to treat them as one single entity in my head rather than letting myself divide them up into chapters, because something about chapterising a story somehow makes my brain think it’s absolutely fine to just stop doing it four or five chapters in. If I got a wish to change just one thing about myself it would be giving myself the willpower and concentration to goddamn finish stories

[k7l4d4]

K Reviews and Rants: Miraculous Ladybug Season 5! Episode 21

Alright, onto the episode that is supposedly meant to show Lila finally getting figured out.

Now, I'm gonna ignore the usual Lila Manipulates everyone BS. This episode has two big problems with it.

Firstly, it tries to present Miss Bustier and Damocles as reasonable authority figures... yet neither of them ever actually try and get the students' direct input or seriously question the out of character career requests for them. Additionally, it has Mylene get on a soapbox about kids "being forced to pick their futures so early in life" or something stupid like that. (Takes a deep breath) I literally had to change what I wanted to do for work three times growing up. Now, I'm not that old, I'll admit, but I have firsthand experience with having to make a change in career choice after making a decision. This episode treating Mylene as making some profound statement, when she's basically just rephrasing the simple fact that there's no guarantee a person is going to maintain the same career in life after school as some kind of criticism of the educational system. Now, I know NOTHING about the French Educational system... but when it tries to push an aesop like this right after literally showing everyone cheerfully and eagerly acting as if they didn't have a perfect idea of what they want to do in life, it just comes off as awkward. Oh, and them further making Adrien into a damsel in distress with nothing more of substance to him then his crush on Marinette was... uncomfortable on so many levels.

Secondly, this episode going full sympathetic retcon on Sabrina in the most blatant way possible. For a series that has done basically nothing with her besides have her be Chloe's goon, they are trying very hard to pretend she hasn't been Chloe's willing accomplice all this time. They are acting as if she's never gotten anyone hurt or damaged anyone's lives on Chloe's behalf before, despite this very season showing how she ratted out Marinette's "Crush" to Chloe in Derision and Chloe using that to play a mean prank on Marinette... and ignoring all the times she's lied and stolen on Chloe's request, without a hint of protest. It's hard to see Sabrina as an innocent bystander or dupe when this season is the first time she's ever shown any guilt or remorse for being Chloe's lackey... and it being the first time she's done something THIS bad doesn't really work when she's stating it's because her dad's a cop (when that's never mattered to her before) and because "helping Chloe has never hurt anyone" (which is just a straight-up lie). It feels less like she's turning on Chloe out of guilt or remorse and more because she's upset that Chloe is seemingly replacing her with Lila... when this episode really makes it feel more like Lila is making Chloe HER "Sabrina."

Anyway, rambling Forward over. Onto the review! As always, please forgive my profanity.

Episode 21: Confrontation

Okay, now we get the opening scene of Adrien struggling with an orientation form with Plagg pointing out how simple it is. Just... writing down your request for next year's school and your career goals. Admittedly, I can see why this would be hard with Adrien; bullshit writing decisions or not, Adrien struggling to figure out what he wants to do with his life makes perfect sense. Although I sincerely doubt that this would be a hardlocked "one and done" thing that is absolutely binding, because that would be utterly fucking stupid. Because if this kind of thing WERE absolutely binding, then you could have the biggest slacker in school write down the name of the fanciest, most exclusive school in the area that comes with a lot of perks and then slap down some stupid answer, and I doubt any school in the world would put up with something that easily abused.

...And we hear from Adrien that he isn't even writing down what HE wants, but what his father has DECIDED for him. REAL great development here, nice to know that the kid who literally BROKE OUT OF HIS OWN FUCKING HOUSE is still too chicken to figure out what he wants out of life. Also, the fact that they once again made Adrien's life decisions and attitudes be about someone else (how MARINETTE will feel about his dad making him move to London) is of course just fine. /s

Ugh, fine, I guess hearing Plagg show solidarity with Adrien is nice. Still kinda annoying, since Plagg is pretty much always just the goofball, rather than a serious individual.

Okay, so it looks like these orientation forms do have a safety check, in that the teachers review things with the students to see if they have the qualifications to go to their chosen school for their studies of choice... now how does this get ruined? Oh yeah, Marinette gets a "strange feeling" now that she and Alya aren't the class reps. Clearly this strange feeling has NOTHING to do with the person she KNOWS is a liar and manipulator who will screw over anyone for her own benefit is now the Class Rep, surely not!! Also, "entrusting us with their hopes and dreams!" Dramatic much? It's not as if they can't just apply to schools of their choice anyway... can they? I've got no fucking clue how the French Education System handles this crap.

Let's see what they wanna study...

Alya: Wants to be a Reporter, needs to specialize in Literature.

Nino: Movie Director. Weird how his love of music and DJing disappeared.

Mylene: "Defender of the Earth." Wow, they couldn't even pretend to have her put down a serious job, could they?

Ivan: Stay-at-home-dad. ...Huh, I honestly can't say anything snarky about that, it takes guts to be cool with that kind of life, I just hope he knows what that kind of commitment entails.

Rose: "Hairstylist," okay, not too weird... "For Unicorns." Never mind, they really aren't even pretending to have her be serious, they are straight-up insisting Rose is a delusional idiot. That might sound harsh, but come the FUCK on, there's a line between having an innocent idealism still, and unironically wanting a job that involves working with mythical creatures. Who knows, maybe Unicorns actually exist in MLB, I doubt that her job is even remotely applicable. Wait, she got told Unicorns don't exist... and changed it to "Hairstylist for Dragons."

Juleka: I couldn't even hear what she said, but given Marinette's comment on "that being SO you," I'm gonna assume it's something insanely stereotypically "goth."

Sabrina: A nurse. Because she "loves taking care of other people." I am cringing, because it sounds like they are trying to insist Sabrina being Chloe's enabler and minion is something positive that "Chloe tainted" or some shit like that. Also, she's never shown any indication of wanting to take care of people before, EVER.

Chloe: "I don't need to do anything since I'm already rich." They are seriously this fucking stupid. They can't even give her wanting to be something snobby and "powerful" that will let her pander to her own ego, they seriously are treating her like an unironic "Ideal Rich" stereotype. News flash, even RICH PEOPLE HAVE STUFF THEY LIKE TO DO. God fucking dammit.

Lila: I'm not even going to type her answer since it's a bare-faced lie meant to make her look good, which she even admits to.

Also, I'm genuinely confused on why we never got Nathaniel's, Max's, or Kim's. I'm not even gonna pretend to touch Alix's situation with a ten foot pole.

Seeing Marinette fretting about "entrusting her classmate's futures to such awful girls" really, REALLY annoys me. The entire fucking REASON that Lila is even class-rep is because of the authors trying to pretend that Lila transferred in BEFORE the elections for Class Rep took place, when I'm literally looking at the timeline and she explicitly came LONG AFTER.

Yada yada yada, Lila lying through her teeth again. Wow, not even ten seconds and she's having Sabrina destroy the original forms and forge new ones. UGH. "You're using too many words to explain your plan!" HAHAHA ISN'T CHLOE BEING A DUMB BLONDE STEREOTYPE HILARIOUS!? I AM ENJOYING THIS AND NOT PISSED OFF AT ALL!!! And WOW, Lila's "brilliant plan" is to just... frame Marinette for replacing everyone's forms with ones that would make them miserable. There are clearly no holes in this, certainly not the fact that Miss Bustier KNOWS now that Sabrina can and does forge signatures and handwriting, and that the whole "frame Marinette for doing something awful" routine only has a 50% success record, even with Lila's bullshit in effect. This isn't stupid, nope, not one bit. /s

And we get a reminder from Chloe that Andre is a stereotypical scumbag politician, it's been a while since the show has been willing to do that. I wonder if it has something to do with the show trying to pretend he's a good dad because of Zoe?

Also, apparently the lynchpin to Lila's plan is having Sabrina lie and say that MARINETTE made her forge the papers... wow, people will totally buy that the girl who does anything and everything Chloe says would ever take orders from someone other than Chloe, that's definitely what will happen. Much shock, much brilliance. /s

Wow, literally having Chloe gush over Lila's plan being "utterly villainous." They aren't even pretending to be subtle in the slightest. This is pathetic. And now Sabrina's blowing into her weird whistle in a panic because she "can't do this." Girl, you have been Chloe's lapdog and have had no problem with ruining lives in the past without a hint of regret, don't pretend you have a conscience NOW of all times. Also, what the FUCK is with that stupid whistle? Where did it come from, and why is it only NOW something so important to her??

"Helping Chloe doesn't hurt anyone" YOU LITERALLY TRIED TO STEAL MARINETTE'S DIARY IN SEASON ONE CUT THE BULLSHIT. "Forging documents and lying? It's different!" No. IT IS NOT. YOU HAVE LIED ON CHLOE'S BEHALF MANY TIMES IN THIS SERIES ALREADY!!!

And after a moment of pointless cruelty (and more "I didn't do anything wrong!!" whining from Sabrina) by Chloe, we are now back to the reappearance of... ugh. The "Resistance." What have these idiots accomplished again...? Oh right, they publicly harassed Adrien's father, fell hook line and sinker for Hawkmoth's idiotic "scheme" to conceal his identity again, lead a fairly pointless resistance against Hawkmoth after he gets the Ladybug Earrings... and that's about it. What a joke.

Okay, and somehow Damocles hears them and is looking for them on the basis that they are intruders. He's honestly not wrong, since I sincerely doubt they are supposed to be hiding in that weird nook in the school after class hours. Apparently Nino's "brilliant plan" is for all of them to go to the same high school... for many, MANY reasons, that feels utterly fucking stupid to me, since there's no guarantee that any of them would get schedules that would let them meet up, there's no guarantee that the school would be able to accommodate their future goals and ideals, and, oh yeah, THEY DON'T NEED TO GO TO THE SAME SCHOOL TO STILL BE A TEAM.

And it seems Damocles is a fan of their plan. Not terrible, but that feels like the kind of thing that's gonna get out of hand in the worst way VERY QUICKLY. Also, Nino thinking his plan will be able to fix Adrien's problem would be hilarious if it didn't illustrate how stupid the writers are making the cast for the sake of plot. And yup, the little problem of them having different dreams and goals that are incompatible with all going to the same school immediately crops up.

While Marinette takes a call, Mrs. Mendeleev is tattling on the "Resistance" to Mr. Damocles. For once, she's absolutely right that them lurking in the boiler room is unacceptable. Not only is it breaking several rules, it's just plain dangerous to be in a place like that without a good reason. And... Damocles is covering for them. That would be sweet if it weren't liable to get him in massive trouble. Oh, looks like Mendeleev is unsatisfied with how Damocles runs things. I mean, so am I, but I doubt she'd be any better given her track record.

"It's so unfair that we have to decide what we want to do so early on in life!" MYLENE, IF YOU THINK THAT THIS IS THE BE-ALL END-ALL OF YOUR LIFE, YOU ARE FUCKING DELUSIONAL. Changing careers and exploring different subjects and career paths is NORMAL. People who go into one thing and never divert from it are the EXCEPTION not the rule. I wanted to become a programmer, then got into IT, before I finally ended up as a Pharmacy Technician. Them acting as if "taking a bunch of different courses to figure out what we want" is this groundbreaking thing pisses me off. They come off as spoiled brats, especially when each of them had pretty clear ideas on what they wanted to do right off the bat. This is fucking stupid.

No no no. I'm not even remotely pretending to entertain them acting as if trying to "take a stand" against filing these forms THAT THEY ALREADY FILLED OUT AND HANDED OVER by "striking" is anything other then performative BS. I have had my fill of performative BS for a while now. Fuck this.

Seriously, why the fuck do they have Juleka speaking so fucking QUIETLY? This is just fucking bizarre. She's capable of speaking at a normal volume without issue, she's SPOKEN at a normal volume without issue THIS SEASON, why is she having this problem NOW OF ALL TIMES!? Ding Dong, Rose points out the fucking problem with doing a "strike" when it comes to something THEY HAVE ALREADY DONE.

And it looks like MAYBE Adrien has pushed himself to do something other then be totally enslaved to what Gabe wants of him... and we don't even get to see it. Who bets that it's Adriennette shit? ...Yup, it's Adriennette shit. He literally didn't even list anything, he just said he "wanted to be with Marinette." If that's supposed to be touching, it fails. It's just him basically wasting a form by treating it like a love letter.

And Chloe dumps the form in the emergency bathroom that she and Lila are hiding in. How did no one see them all enter at the same time, and why was no one suspicious? And I cannot repeat myself enough, them trying to act as if Sabrina just NOW has a conscience PISSES ME OFF.

And we get a scene of Caline taking Lila at face value. For fuck's sake, this better not be binding... and Damocles is taking Lila's bullshit rationalization on why Alya obviously put down "Optician" at face value, FUCK. THAT. THIS is why this guy needs to be kicked out of his position, he SUCKS AT HIS JOB. Seriously, why the fuck would ALYA WEARING GLASSES MEANS SHE WANTS TO MAKE THEM FOR PEOPLE!? And Mrs. Mendeleev just saying "her grades allow it" really proves she's no better at this job then Damocles is. Uuuggghhh... your JOB should be to call in Alya and TALK WITH HER since her homeroom teacher has literally JUST POINTED OUT THAT THIS IS UNUSUAL FOR ALYA. FUCK THIS SHIT.

"Juleka wants to repeat the year" NOPE. FUCK THAT. END OF FUCKING STORY. You do not get to CHOOSE TO REPEAT A YEAR!!!! FUCK THAT FUCK THAT FUCK THAT!!! WHY ARE THESE IDIOTS NOT QUESTIONING THIS!?!? Wow, the speech impediment that didn't exist until recently, truly a "brilliant reason" for her to want to be held back WHICH IS NOT A THING THAT HAPPENS. And another sign of Mrs. Mendeleev being just as useless as Damocles in that she doesn't oppose a child apparently sabotaging her own education.

And NOW we get the class reacting to the news!! How will the writers fuck THIS up, I wonder?

"You sure you didn't get mine by mistake?" Kim saying that would be funny if it weren't for the sheer stupidity of the teachers and Damocles apparently being dumb enough to just buy Lila's bullshit at face value AND Miss Bustier doing NOTHING to actually oppose it!!! Oh, and another Dumb Blonde joke, but this time it's Rose who's the butt of it.

And whatever drama this should result in gets sidetracked by what looks to be Juleka getting Akumatized. Let's see if that'll actually go through with it or if they'll bring back the Resistance's bullshit "tactics" again. Also, why is Gabe/Hawkmoth acting like he's got this history of akumatizing people during Teacher Rep Meetings when this is the first time these have ever even been MENTIONED?

And the magical charm proves to be immediately useless! Who didn't see that coming, show of hands!

And it's Reflekta again. UGH. Also, them trying to act as if not being (verbally) understood or listened to is a recurring problem with Juleka falls flat when she's never had this speech impediment prior to this season. Her issue was being SEEN, not HEARD, dumbass writers. Yup, they are using the dumb tactics, and putting themselves in danger in the process. Kiddies, it's WAY TOO FUCKING LATE FOR THAT.

Huh, they actually bothered to give an old Akuma an improved version of their prior power!! Now if only it wasn't the Akuma LEAST USEFUL TO GETTING THE MIRACULOUSES!!! Also, the fact that their classmates didn't immediately run when they saw that the Akuma was Reflekta, especially since this one operates as a hive mind it seems. It's also kinda stupid that they are trying to tie Reflekta's powers of image copying with the motivation of "staying with her friends" since it just plain DOES NOT FIT REFLEKTA AS AN AKUMA.

This plan is even stupider than normal. Not only was the Akuma taken out in less than a handful of minutes, they basically just got lucky that they took out the "real Reflekta." This was a waste of time.

Now back to the school, where Alya and the rest ask Lila what happened at the conference. SURELY this isn't a plot, SURELY this isn't all a trick- Oh who am I kidding, of course it is. Yup, Lila immediately passes the blame onto Marinette. And Chloe immediately pulls out the fact that Marinette's the only one with an unaltered form as "proof" that this is all her fault, and Lila says it's all because they voted her to be Class Rep. Wow, what a "brilliant plan."

Marinette immediately points out the obvious flaw in her being the one to make the fake forms. And when Lila tries to flip it on her, Marinette calls out Sabrina, who Chloe shoves in front of herself. HOW the class can't smell that this is staged, I have no clue whatsoever. AND SABRINA FINALLY GROWS A SPINE!! WHOOPDY-FUCKING-DOO!! WHO GIVES A SHIT!? IT'S TOO LITTLE TOO LATE TO GROW A FUCKING CONSCIENCE WHEN YOU'VE BEEN ACTING AS IF YOU'VE NEVER DONE ANY WRONG UP UNTIL NOW!!!

And Chloe, because of course they are still keeping her the dumb one, loudly calls Sabrina a traitor and says that "wasn't the plan." Lila tries to run damage control... by immediately throwing SABRINA under the bus and claiming that Sabrina is the liar, and was "just being used by Marinette." Seriously, CHLOE ADMITTED THAT THIS WAS THEIR PLAN!!! HOW STUPID IS THIS!? EXTREMELY STUPID!!! Also, wow, calling Marinette a "Civilian Monarch." She isn't even trying anymore.

And Sabrina, no, she is not turning everything you say against you, she's lying. Turning what you say against you is when you repeat what someone says in a way that means differently from what they intend. What she's doing is lying, blatantly, calling you a liar, and trying to gaslight you into going along with what she wants, and she's not being even remotely subtle about it. WHY ARE NONE OF THEIR CLASSMATES REACTING TO THIS!? WHY!?!?!

Yeesh, even if you ignore how stupid and blatant Lila's lies are, this is genuinely creepy how she's openly trying to gaslight and badger Sabrina into doing what she wants and agreeing with her. It's sincerely disturbing to see her being this fucking obvious.

Also, it's kinda weird how Sabrina emphasizes that her dad is a policeman.

And after Sabrina runs off, Chloe literally tells Sabrina to 'heel,' like a dog. THAT'S the Miraculous they think suits Sabrina best... how nauseating. No joke, this part of the episode is making me sick to my stomach.

Wow, a classic "I'll have my dad fire you(r dad)" threat from Chloe. Haven't heard one of those in awhile.

And after Lila begins bragging about how great of a liar she is (SHE REALLY ISN'T PEOPLE!!!), and threatens Sabrina, Sabrina springs her trap and reveals she engineered a public confession. This would be cathartic if it weren't TOTALLY STUPID HOW LONG LILA'S LIES HAVE BEEN MAINTAINED BY PEOPLE TAKING HER AT FACE VALUE OVER ALL ELSE!!!!

Yadda yadda yadda, Sabrina grew a conscience and revealed everything to Marinette, acting as if she hasn't tried to gleefully ruin lives and damage reputations at Chloe's behest before. And they seriously built an entire fake bathroom with a one-way window-mirror thing just to catch her. How obnoxious. Seriously, all they did was put up a "bathroom busted" sign and that was enough, and the school never tried to call a plumber or something!? THIS IS STUPID!!! They should've been aware this ENTIRE TIME that the actual bathroom was perfectly fine, making this entire plan of Marinette's as sound as a pile of SAND!!!

"I'll fix everything." Fix WHAT!? By all accounts you just faked the bathrooms being out of order, switched out a mirror for a back-up bathroom that never needed making and thus probably cost the school quite a pretty penny to make, and wasted several school hours by enabling Lila's idiotic plan involving those orientation forms WHICH SHOULD NOT HAVE ACTUALLY BEEN THAT BIG OF A FUCKING DEAL!!!

Caline says they owe Marinette an apology, they kinda do. They also probably deserve to be fired since they've shown nothing but raw, unfettered ineptitude THIS ENTIRE FUCKING SEASON AND EVERY EPISODE INVOLVING LILA!!! Wow, Chloe actually bothered acting on one of her threats to call her father!! TOO BAD THAT HER DAD DOESN'T HAVE THE POWER TO GET RID OF DAMOCLES!! I agree he needs to go, but Andre doesn't have the power to do that. Mayor of the year, people, Mayor of the fucking year.

I'm just tuning out the rest of this, since it's basically Damocles FINALLY bothering to act like a proper educator and Andre going back to his Season 1 days of being a slimeball politician that throws his weight around to keep his daughter's image clean. Oh, and it looks like the only reason he went along with it was because Audrey was coercing him with her present, CLEARLY they are "in love," and this isn't downplaying Andre being a self-serving spineless leech. Heck, this makes him MORE of a spineless leech since he's getting pushed around by Audrey FOR NO FUCKING REASON.

"Now you're not getting fired either!" Audrey, he's your husband, not an employee, and he has more authority than you. Fuck this bullshit.

And the entire class rallying around Damocles would be more touching if he weren't a fucking joke of a principal on every level. We also see the Magic Charms FINALLY BE FUCKING USEFUL!! Who knows, maybe this unknown until now power will actually be fucking relevant... yeah, I don't believe it either.

Yadda yadda yadda, character shilling for Damocles by acting as if he's always been a good principal and not a fucking joke with no spine. And now we get the scene of Caline joining the "Chloe is pure evil and always has been, so there's no point in trying to change her, point and scorn her as nothing but trash" club. And we get a "I thought you could change if people reached out to you!" speech which acts as if the token gestures that never went anywhere were really meaningful attempts to reform her, blech. And Caline's "punishment" for Chloe is literally just the "extra help" she said Chloe would need last episode reframed as a threat. Idiotic. And apparently Lila has an entirely separate identity as "Cerise" on top of her somehow tricking three women into believing she's her daughter and HOW MUCH FUCKING MORE DO THE WRITERS PLAN ON SHILLING HER AS THIS MASTER MANIPULATOR!? BECAUSE SHE AIN'T ONE!! SHE IS A TEENAGE GIRL WITH FUCKING DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR!! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!!!