My Friend Just Told Me That There's A Secret Second Dashboard That Solely Contains Posts From People

o/ <- person waving

o7 <- person saluting

ol <- person raising hand

o1 <- person scratching head

\o> <- person stretching

so,, sad 😔

Captain...

prompt from twt!!<33

Amity Parkers are Kryptonians in the same way a de-feathered chicken is a man.

Summary; Clark's pretty sure the new intern, Samantha Manson, is secretly a Kryptonian.

But this isn't about him.

This is about Sam and her new, more interesting than Danny coworker; Jimmy Olsen.

~~~~~~

It was Sam’s first day as an Intern at the Daily Planet, and she’d found someone very interesting.

"Who is...Jimmy Olsen. What is Jimmy Olsen?" Sam muttered into her recorder as she watched the man in question hang upside down from a thirteenth story window, just to take a good picture of...something. A bird or a plane or someshit. 

"I hypothesize that the man is a freak," she continued, turning around and missing the bird-plane streak by in a blur of red and blue, "A level of freak I intend to meet."

~~~~~~

Jimmy had four arms now, as well as terrifying mandibles and way too many eyes.

Sam diligently took notes, making sure to translate his horrified, garbled screams as well as she could.

Unfortunately, Superman swept in and managed to nab the mad scientist and douse Jimmy in the cure at pretty much the same time.

~~~~~~

Sam was using her strength, as a human so contaminated with Ecto she was liminal, to hold Jimmy Olsen in the air by the ankle with one hand. The other hand? Was punching aliens in the face and yanking their weapons out of their hands.

Not that he was aware she was doing that, because he was so distracted with getting the perfect camera shot of the alien invaders of the week that he’d missed the one’s trying to sneak up on him.

Honestly, most of Sam’s concentration was on not squeezing her hand.

She didn’t want to break any bones, after all.

It was right as that thought passed her mind that Superman appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and scared the shit out of her, resulting in…her squeezing her hand.

Jimmy was in a cast for far longer than it took her or anyone else from Amity to recover from something as small as a broken bone.

~~~~~~

It was Tuesday, and true to form, Jimmy had been kidnapped.

Sam, as she had the past seven Tuesdays, made sure she was taken along for the ride. She’d even had to knock out the teeth of the head kidnapper to convince them that, as most people already knew, ignoring Samantha Manson was a terrible idea.

The kidnappers had let her in the van, refusing to meet her eyes. When she insisted they tie up her wrists, a few of them started crying, so she didn’t push it.

The entire drive to the typical decrepit warehouse, the kidnappers kept looking back at her and flinching. 

Wussies.

But she could put up with them being babies; as long as she got to study the enigma that was Jimmy, it was fine.

What wasn’t fine was the fact that when Superman swept in to save Jimmy Olsen again, the kidnappers pointed at Sam and said she’d kidnapped them.

“I only knocked out a few teeth, so what? They’ll grow back, it’s not a big-!”

“Oh, I get it now. No. No, Miss Manson, human adult teeth don’t grow back.” Superman said gently, going from aggressively confused to pitying.

Sam broke her hand on his jaw in response; she hated people pitying her. Also, she was more than a little embarrassed that she’d forgotten non-liminal people were slightly limited in the amount of teeth they could have.

Her hand healed in the normal amount of time for a person from Amity Park; two whole days.

~~~~~~

Jimmy was looking at her over their desks, trying to be sly about it.

Sam was pretending not to notice, slowly growing more and more annoyed.

“...Is there a problem?” She finally asked, slowly looking up to meet Jimmy’s eyes.

“How did you not shatter your hand when you punched Superman? Why do you think ‘human’ teeth grow back?” Jimmy responded, almost like those questions had been waiting on the tip of his tongue for who knew how long.

“I didn’t shatter my hand because I wasn’t actually trying to hurt him, and the other one…I made a mistake.”

Jimmy hesitated, pursing his lips and seeming to take a moment to think.

“So…if you tried to punch Superman, and you meant to hurt him, do you think you actually could?”

Sam leaned back in her chair, giving the question some thought.

Superman was notorious for being weak to magic, and liminality was just another form of death magic. Granted, it was a form of death magic so strong it mutated the living, but magic was magic.

“First off, I don’t fight for a living,” Sam started, shrugging; her days as one of Team Phantom were long past. “I used to, but I don’t anymore, so I’m not as…fighty, I guess, as Superman. But I could probably give him a black eye, if he was nice enough to let the punch land after letting me wind up.”

“Oh.” Jimmy said, voice slightly higher than normal. “Well alright then.”

“Yup.”

“So where are you from again?”

“Classified.”

~~~~~~

Jimmy, true to Jimmy form, had a new…situation.

It was Friday, and apparently he was being possessed by a minor god.

A minor god that was not cooperating.

“It’s a simple series of questions, and I realy don’t know why you’re fighting me on this.” Sam groaned, valiantly resisting the urge to throw her notepad at possessed Jimmy’s head.

“Please. I just want to go back to my realm, I won’t bother people in this one anymore, I just-”

“What are you the god of? What is your name? What was the purpose of possessing Jimmy Olsen? Why did you target Jimmy Olsen?” Sam reiterated, as she had been for the past seven hours. “Is Jimmy Olsen a beacon of some sort? Is there a curse on JImmy Olsen?”

Sam paused, a new thought occurring to her with such suddenness she gasped.

“Wait, is…is this an attempt to woo Jimmy Olsen?!”

“Please. Please just let me go!”

“Just answer the questions or I start pulling fingernails!”

“If you torture me in this form, the boy will also suffer!”

“First off, he’s a grownass man. Second, he’s a freak so he’ll be fine. Probably. Fingernails grow back anyways, it’s barely a pinch for humans, it doesn't hurt at all.”

“Miss Manson, please don’t refer to Mister Olsen as a freak. Also, you’re getting confused about human limitations again.” Superman added politely, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“No, I’m not! I googled it! Human fingernails grow back!” Sam spat, shrugging out from under the Man of Steel’s grip.

“Ma’am, your misjudging human limitations concerning pain.” Superman explained, strained but patient.

Sam paused.

Sam took a moment to remember two days ago, when Perry bumped his foot into one of the desks and spent a whole hour cursing.

All that just for a broken pinky toe.

“...Fine. You…might have a point.”

~~~~~~

The GIW sat across from Sam in a meeting room at the Daily Planet.

Apparently, dodging her court-mandated meeting with them by not going to her apartment just meant they’d turn up at her place of work.

Charming.

“And you’ve intruded on my basic rights because…?” Sam started the meeting, unimpressed.

“We have been trying to reach you for mandatory debrief for the past three months, Miss Manson. You know why.” Agent Tweedledee said, deadpan.

“Ugh. No, I haven’t  told anyone where I’m from. No, I haven’t used my powers in front of anyone. No, I haven’t broken any of your stupid, nonsensical rules.” Sam droned, tallying each point with a finger.

“Interesting. Our sources say they caught you…holding a grown man upside down with one hand.” Agent Tweedledee countered, also looking as bored as Sam felt.

Sam said nothing, continuing to stare at the agents.

“After which you crushed his ankle,” Agent Tweedledum added, pushing a folder with Jimmy Olsen’s X-Rays towards her.

“I don’t think you having these X-Rays is HIPAA compliant,” Sam said, pushing them back.

“I don’t think you understand how big of a security risk having you, any of you, blending in with normal humans is,” Agent Tweedledum said, pushing them right back at her. “And if this is how you’re going to try to ‘blend in’, then maybe we need to pull this initiative back. What’s next, casually flying to reach something on a tall shelf?”

“Indeed,” Agent Tweedledee said, leaning forward to get in Sam’s face. “Perhaps it would be better if the lockdown was re-initiated. An entire town of people like you…it’s too dangerous to just let you wander-” 

“Excuse me!” Clark Kent said, popping his head into the meeting room. Sam took a brief moment to clock that his eyes were glowing a little reddish, but otherwise he seemed normal.

Stressed, but normal.

“You are intruding-”

“I was just wondering if you had a warrant?” Kent cut in, blinking his eyes and readjusting his glasses. When he was done, the red had faded.

The agents paused, looking at each other.

“We don’t need one.” Agent Tweedledee said, deftly sweeping the folder full of X-Rays closed.

“Actually, you do,” an entirely new voice joined the fray, and some man who reeked of money walked in. He was wearing a stupidly expensive suit, and looked incredibly windswept for some reason.

Sam hated him on principle.

The Agents also seemed to hate him on principle, if how they started packing up was any indication.

“Hello, my name is Bruce Wayne, and I own the Daily Planet,” Bruce Wayne said, all fake smiles and fake cheer. “That makes this private property.”

“We have a government ordinance-”

“My private property,” Bruce Wayne interrupted, stopped a mere few inches away from the now standing Agent Tweedledee. “You don’t have a warrant. Get out.”

Sam stayed seated, eyeing the proceedings.

Contrary to what she expected though, instead of pulling out guns and threatening people, the Agents just walked around Bruce Wayne and started for the door.

“If Miss Manson goes missing?” She heard Clark Kent mutter to them as they passed, “We will post her name everywhere we can, as well as pictures of your faces.”

“What pictures?” Agent Tweedledum asked, right before a camera flash blinded the man.

“These pictures. Leave Miss Manson alone!” Jimmy spat, darting out of reach.

Past him, the entire office was full of silent reporters, standing and watching the agents.

“If they ever contact you again, or violate your rights again, call me,” Bruce Wayne muttered, handing her a card.

~~~~~~

Jimmy had become telekinetic. Somehow.

They’d been interviewing some scientist new to Metropolis, Sam had turned her back on him for all of four minutes, and when she turned around he was two feet off the ground, surrounded by random objects.

Honestly she hadn’t even been aware there’d been anything that could mess with humans in the lab, so she had no idea what he’d touched.

The scientist was rambling about how his invention worked, and that all he would need to do was initiate Jimmy’s ‘inner power’ to create a bomb so destructive even Superman couldn’t stop it.

Which proved her initial suspicions that he was an evil scientist, and surprised her not at all.

Sam calmly reached out and grabbed the scientist by the throat, cutting off his air supply.

“Shhh. Shut up. No more words from you. Jimmy, I have some questions, please cooperate.”

Superman didn’t even take four minutes to show up for that one.

Apparently, Superman gave Jimmy a button for when Sam ‘forgot how human limitations worked’.

She was confused, as she hadn’t even touched Jimmy, but then Superman had gently pried her fingers off of the mad scientist's neck. Who was unconscious.

Oh.

Right.

Humans, ones that weren’t tainted with Ecto, couldn’t go that long without oxygen.

~~~~~~

“It was self defense, I swear!” Sam shouted into the phone, running through the streets.

“What was self defense?!” Bruce Wayne shouted back, noises from his side of the call indicating he was scrambling for something.

“They had cuffs and a gun! I grabbed a thing and stabbed one of them with it and probably broke the other one!” Sam took a turn, dodging into an alleyway to buy more time as she outran the GIW unit trying to chase her down.

“Broke the other one’s what?!”

“I don’t know! It made a crunching sound and he started throwing up!”

“Miss Manson, there’s no way I can get there on time. Can you shout for Superman?”

“I tried, he isn’t here or someth-” Sam was cut off as a hand shot out from one of the doorways and yanked her inside.

Or, they tried to.

Sam snarled, turning and raising her fist…only to be met with the face of Jimmy Olsen.

“In here! Quickly!” He whispered, tugging at her arm again.

Sam jumped to follow, the door shutting behind her with a soundless click.

Four minutes later, a stampede of footsteps went past, not even slowing down to consider the door.

Panting, she took a moment to look around.

It was…the weirdest basement she’d ever seen. There were broken cameras hanging from the ceiling, rows of film cartridges lining metal shelves, and a glowing lock on the door she’d just been dragged through.

Most concerning was the Ghostspeak written on the glowing lock. Sure, it was in a weird dialect, but she’d recognize it anywhere.

“...Jimmy, tell me honestly. Are you in a cult?” Sam asked, still catching her breath.

“No? This is just one of my safespots. Superman helped me outfit it, because I…uh…”

“Get kidnapped or targeted at least three times a month. Understandable.” Sam finally noticed the shouting coming from her phone and put it up to her ear. “I’m fine; Jimmy has a safehouse or something, and apparently they can’t track me while I’m in it.”

“My lawyers are already on their way to the Daily Planet. Stay where you are, we’ll sort this out.”

~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne’s lawyers were, evidently, terrifyingly competent.

Sam Manson and all Amity Parkers who were allowed to leave for the experimental integration process no longer had to debrief.

They got social workers. They had rights. They were put into contact with the Office for Extraterrestrial Immigration.

The GIW backed off.

From what Tucker told her, still tucked away in Amity, the choices the GIW had were to either concede to those stipulations, or reveal the existence of Amity and its people.

Granted, Tucker had already spread the news that Amity Parkers were guaranteed rights outside of Amity, and that the GIW couldn't legally do anything about it. There were already people planning to escape.

Tucker, in fact, wanted to know if Sam could use a couple of roommates.

~~~~~~

“This is a ‘fork’; it is a utensil used for foods that are not liquid.” Clark Kent said seriously, half leaned over his desk and slowly showing off a plastic fork.

Sam stared at the fork, unimpressed.

“And this? This is an ‘elbow’. On humans, they’re only supposed to bend like this,” the man said, using his own elbow as an example. “They don’t bend any other way. Please. Please remember that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“‘Eyes’ are very important to humans, and they do not grow back or heal very well when impaled.” 

Sam was officially bored.

“Now, ‘forks’ are not supposed to go into ‘eyes’,” Clark advised, holding the fork exaggeratedly far away from his face.

Lois, walking by, rolled her eyes.

“Gods forbid women do anything,” she muttered.

~~~~~~

“<<Woah. And you’re sure he’s not one of us?>>” Tucker asked, flipping through Sam’s ‘Jimmy Notepad’. They were taking a break from moving in, and Sam was excited to show them her Jimmy Notes.

“<<Completely.>>”

“<<Nah, he’s gotta at least be like Wes,>>” Danny disagreed, reaching out to go back a few pages and fully placing his weight against Tucker.

“<<Nope, his bones heal super slow and he can’t even regrow any teeth. Superman said so.>>”

“<<Bullshit! Look here, he clearly shapeshifted! Normal humans can’t do that!>>” Tucker said, jabbing his finger into her notebook with enough force that he almost poked a hole in it.

“<<Hey! Don’t ruin my stuff!>>”

“<<Guys c’mon, the buildings here are super delicate, we shouldn’t fight!>>”

“<<Foods here!>>” Clark Kent interrupted, sticking his head in the living room.

Sam, Danny, and Tucker all turned as one to head for the kitchen.

“<<...Wait, he wasn’t speaking English.>>” Danny muttered, pausing.

“<<I mean, neither were we?>>” Tucker asked, shrugging.

“<<Jimmy! Did you pick up my eggplant sandwich?>>” Sam shouted, shoving past her boys and into the kitchen.

Jimmy froze like a deer in headlights.

“Uh. I don’t know what you just…?”

“She’s asking if you remembered to pick up her eggplant sandwich,” Clark’s son, Jon, said as he dug through one of the bags.

“Oh! Yeah, of course.”

Sam decided that the Kents being able to speak Ghostspeak wasn’t really any of her business.

After all, Jimmy Olsen was far more interesting to study than them.

~~~~~~

“It’s Tuesday.” Sam grumbled, her foot tapping on the ground.

“Yes, it is.” Jimmy agreed, not seeming to pay attention.

“Where are they?” Sam asked, looking for the kidnappers that were supposed to show up.

“The numbers of attempted kidnappings have gone down because any group that would try is…well, they’re terrified of you.” Jimmy said, deliberately looking anywhere but at Sam.

Sam nodded, taking out her Jimmy Notepad.

His odd powers of luck seemed to be easily circumvented by just a few threats to outside sources. Interesting. So if she left, would his weird luck powers kick in again?

“I’m gonna leave for a few hours.” Sam said, standing up.

“It’s crunch time, Perry would kill you, and also that won’t work.” Jimmy droned, starting to sound bored.

“...Hey Jimmy, if I give you twenty bucks, would you go take pictures of a weird cult I heard about?”

“Miss Manson, no!” Clark Kent shouted from the other side of the newsroom. “I don’t know what you’re trying to convince Jimmy to do, but stop!”

~~~~~~

“I wanna fight Superman,” Danny said, staring up at the man in question as he fought off yet another super-powered bad guy.

“Please don’t do that while you’re holding onto me,” Jimmy asked politely, still taking pictures of the fight as Danny held him off the edge of a building.

“I’m Jimmy’s coworker,” Sam hissed, glaring at Danny. She was the one who helped Jimmy get into weird and concerning places for good photos, not Danny!

Danny smiled smugly at her, not putting the wayward photographer down at all.

“Yeah, but you broke both your arms blocking a punch, so nyeh.”

“They aren’t even compound fractures! The bones are still in place, they’ll heal in a couple of hours!”

“It hasn’t been a couple of hours though?” Tucker asked, briefly looking up from his phone.

Sam kicked him.

He kicked her back.

Neither noticed when Jimmy’s photos went from taking pictures of Superman’s fight to taking photos of their play fight.

~~~~~~

“Sam. Hey. Sam.”

Sam groaned and tilted her head back.

“What?”

“I don’t know what you are but…you can just break out of here, right?” Jimmy whispered, keeping himself between her and Lois, and the Big Bad Evil Guys of the month.

“I’m human, though?”

“I doubt that, though?”

“You’re so rude.”

“I’m so sorry that my concern for you is making me more to the point.”

Sam tried to make a comeback, but the low, pulsing green light of those stupid rocks seemed to magnify her headache. Those rocks sounded like millions of people screaming, and the emotional drain connected to them was really messing with her.

It took all of her concentration not to throw up, let alone get into a pseudo-argument with Jimmy.

“Whatever. What is that glowing green shit they have?”

“...It’s…it’s kryptonite. Uh…Sam? Hey, quick question, but are you…?”

“Not now Jimmy, I have a migraine bad enough to warrant murder.”

“I think we’re gonna have to figure this one out without Sam, Jimmy,” Lois muttered, already halfway out of her restraints.

“But she’s gonna be okay, right?” Jimmy whispered, tense against Sam’s back.

“She’ll be fine the faster we can get the Kryptonite away. Now, Jimmy, move!”

~~~~~~

“How long was she exposed?” A voice asked, adding to Sam’s headache.

“An hour? Maybe two?” Jimmy’s voice said, winded.

“Her color already looks better, Kal. I think she just needs to sleep it off.” Lois voice added, accompanied by someone brushing her hair out of her face.

“We need to keep an eye on-”

Sam interrupted Superman by throwing up on him.

He’d spoken long enough, anyways. It was time for blessed silence.

~~~~~~

Sam woke up in her own bed, with a very excited Danny barely able to contain himself next to her.

Apparently, Superman had shown up to drop her off, and Danny had misunderstood the situation.

Danny had actually gotten to fight Superman.

And even though Danny tried to downplay certain crucial parts of it, Tucker filled in what he was cutting out; Danny had gotten his ass handed to him.

Not before he’d broken the Man of Steel’s nose, though.

Which the halfa was very proud of.

“Kinda gross that he was covered in throw-up, though,” Danny conceded after a few hours, nose wrinkled. “Oh yeah; your Jimmy is in the living room, asleep.”

“On the couch, right?” Sam asked, still annoyed by remnants of her headache.

“...I mean. I was using the couch, so…” Tucker muttered, defensive.

“You didn’t make the squishy, normal human with normal human bones and normal human joints sleep on the floor, right?”

Danny coughed slightly, standing up.

“I’ll go put him on the couch.”

“Daniel James Fenton you better be careful, he’s delicate!”

~~~~~~

Sam was forced to take that back when she went over the security footage Tucker had gathered.

Jimmy Olsen had carried her through an enemy compound on his back, gotten into multiple fights at a clear disadvantage, and even made various pit stops to check Sam’s pulse and breathing.

With a deep sigh, she pulled out her Jimmy Notepad again.

“Why does he always disprove my theories and then add just as many new ones?”

~~~~~~

Jimmy was speaking the most mangled form of ghostspeak Sam had ever heard in her life.

“...You want to lick all the blue pebbles?” Sam translated for him into English.

Jimmy groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Nevermind. I’m just…really bad at learning new languages.” He sighed, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Superman really tried to teach me but…”

“What were you trying to say?”

“...’What kind of coffee do you want?’.”

"<<What kind of coffee do you want?>> is how you're supposed to pronounce that."

Jimmy tried to repeat it. Tried.

What came out was…well.

Sam felt her jaw drop along with the papers she was holding, rage building at the insult that just left Jimmy’s mouth.

Across the room, Clark Kent broke into a coughing fit so bad he was almost gagging.

“I messed it up again, didn’t I?”

“I think you should go get coffee. Away from me. For about an hour or two.”

“What did I say?!”

LMAOOOOOO

Do you ever think about how when Ron’s wand broke 2nd year, just using spell-o-tape wasn’t enough to fix it. It kept backfiring in ways that were really bad, like making himself eat slugs, or kinda just. being defective in general.

Hagrid’s wand was snapped his 3rd year. But he still uses it, disguised as an umbrella. And it works.

Like we know Ollivander didn’t fix it, since he was surprised to hear Hagrid had the pieces. Not to mention since Hagrid was expelled, it would be extremely illegal to fix it. Hogwarts works as a groundskeeper, and lives in a one room wooden hut that he made himself. He’s not going to have the money to ribe someone to fix it, and then there’s also the fact that because of his heritage, even if he could bribe someone to fix it, they probably wouldn’t. And sure, Dumbledore probably knows that Hagrid fixed his wand, there’s a certain level of deniability there. He wouldn’t have actually gotten involved with the wand mending process. Especially when Hagrid was just accused of killing a student.

So that means Hagrid would have put his wand back together himself.

The 3rd year transfiguration examination was to turn a teapot into a tortoise. Only inanimate objects into animals. Part of the reason animagi are so rare is because they’re human to animal transformations. The first time we meet Hagrid, he gives Dudley a tail, and correctly animates the boat he and Harry are on. Silently.

Harry and co. didn’t even attempt to learn silent casting until 6th year. Anything Hagrid learned after 3rd year would have been self taught.

Hagrid is one powerful wizard and holy shit combined with his resistance to magic with his giant heritage forget McGonagall holy shit Hagrid is terrifying

Miraculous Prompt: Resigning With Grace (And Spite)

You know what I want to see?

A common trend in a number (not all, but still quite a few) Miraculous salt fics is that the class forces a vote for a new Class Representative and Lila ends up winning. This is always used as a major blow for Marinette, full of angst and hurt feelings that Lila turned everyone against her and no one trusts her anymore. Sometimes this also eventually results in Lila ignoring her duties and/or putting them off on Alya, with the class giving barely any notice until it’s far too late. Usually long after Marinette has transferred to a different school or class and far long after the class should have started to notice the complete lack of any progress or even effort on Lila’s part in following through with any of her claims.

So much like the “torn notebook” plot, I’d love to see this turned on its head. Because reasonably speaking, the Class Rep position is actually harder than it looks and involves a lot of planning, coordination, requests to the school administration, and just a whole load of busywork to get anything done. And most people don’t realize that.

So let’s go with the general concept: The class have been taken in by Lila, following her like she’s hung the moon and believing her lies about Marinette being a “bully”. Adrien does nothing to help. And all of her now former friends completely neglect to notice all the ways Marinette has been going well out of her way to help them, both as a friend AND as the Class Rep.

Then eventually, under Lila’s manipulations, the class figures that since Lila is so awesome, she could do a much more amazing job as the Class Rep than Marinette. She could call in favors to set up awesome trips, bring in celebrities she knows for little Q and A sessions, and use her great skills to set up great events like the school dance! Surely anything she is involved in would be a hundred times better than what Marinette could come up with! Ignoring, of course, that Lila doesn’t HAVE to be the Class Rep to actually help in any of those things, but salt fics in general and even the show itself as a whole haven’t exactly shown the classmates to be smart unless they specifically are needed to be for one reason or another.

Thus the class demand from Ms. Bustier that they do a new vote for Class Rep. And of course the rest of the class insists they want it to be Lila.

Lila of course gasps and puts on an act of being surprised and completely unaware they were planning this, how wonderful they are to consider her for such an important role, and while making less than subtle jabs at Marinette in any number of ways (her “bullying”, her “inability to handle the role”, etc). All while sending secret smirks at Marinette when she thinks no one is looking.

Contrary to everyone’s expectations, Marinette doesn’t get upset. She doesn’t get mad or despondent. She’s not even hurt. Instead, she smiles.

Lila thinks she’s trying to hide the pain. The class is uncertain. Adrien is worried. All of them were thinking Marinette would respond quite poorly to being ousted from her position.

In actuality, Marinette just had a whole lot of weight taken off her shoulders.

It is either at this point or the next day that Marinette drops the bombshells. All of them. At once. In the form of a multitude of papers and documents on Lila’s desk.

These papers include a booklet of all of the Class Rep’s responsibilities, including regular daily/weekly meetings, tasks, duties, assignments, and of particular note: the process to go about arranging any of the number of things the class was wanting Lila to do. They also include forms. Forms upon forms. Some in triplicate. All empty and requiring Lila to fill them out.

Field trips? School dance? Any special events? They have to be requested and approved by the school board. And each one has to have a set budget and detailed plan prearranged before they will be approved. Meaning the Class Rep’s job is to contact the places, get the dates and times for reservations as well as the cost, and ensure safety and adequate personnel to man the events.

Not only that, but these events cost money. Money that the school has no reason or desire to shell out. So that requires student-planned and operated fundraisers. Which also require planning, locations and times for the fundraiser to be run, details of what they’re intending to do to earn money, forms to fill out, and a request to the school board for permission to do.

While Marinette had been the Class Rep, she’d already had all of this planned out to a T. The necessary fundraisers. School trips. The school dance. Even entertainment for the dance, which was a shame, since she had made arrangements for Jagged to come play the music for the night. The documents had been filled out, signed, and every line dotted. The only thing left to do had been to go to the school board and convince them…requiring a meeting with all parties that had to be scheduled and conveniently enough, had actually been arranged for that very week.

And no, Lila isn’t going to get by on Marinette’s plans.

Since Lila and the class insisted the liar already had better plans lined up than anything Marinette could come up with, Marinette happily steps aside and tells her to go for it.

In fact, she has such faith in Lila’s abilities, she’s going to step aside and let her shine. By taking all the arrangements she’d made for the class and cancelling every single one of them. So she starts calling people, all the different groups and agencies and businesses involved in these plans to apologize and retract her reservations. Maybe even going so far as to do so in front of the class as proof.

The high end hotels she had already made reservations with? Cancelled.

The popular museums and tourist sites she’d reached out to? Cancelled.

The transportation needed to get to those places? Cancelled. 

The caterer she had been working with to set up food for the dance? Cancelled. 

Then she calls up Jagged, on a video call in front of the entire class, apologizes for wasting his time, and cancels his appearance at the dance.

Oh, and the fundraisers? They were all going to be bake sales. With contributions from the Dupain-Cheng bakery to be used as products FOR FREE. So the kids running the fundraiser would have gotten a net profit automatically since it IS Marinette’s parents’ bakery. But since Marinette isn’t the Class Rep anymore, she doesn’t have to run it or work out any special arrangements with her parents to get the goodies to sell off (which she reminds the class would be at a loss to her parents, no less). And no, Tom and Sabine aren’t going to extend Lila the same deal.

And let’s not forget, there are the forms that Lila has to fill out to get permission for any of it. The multi-paged, mind-numbingly evil forms that no normal person can make sense of. And she has to fill out ALL of them.

All are things she had worked out ahead of time. All were needed to arrange any of the special events the class wanted. Now Lila is going to have to do it all herself, and no, Marinette isn’t going to help her with any of it.

Because, after all, they said themselves that whatever she’d planned won’t be nearly as great as what Lila can come up with.

So Marinette sets the pile on a paling Lila’s desk, cheerfully tells her that from here, it’s all Lila. And proceeds to thank Lila for taking the job off her hands since now that she’s no longer the Class Rep, she’ll have more time to finish her commissions and devote to her gaming.

“Thanks, Lila! I couldn’t have asked for a better replacement.”

🎶cop cutie, cute and on duty…🎶

🎵arrest me, but make it sexy 🎶

🎶arrest me but make it sexy🎶

Epic the Musical is my latest hyper fixation (if by latest you mean from 2021) and I’ve had the wisdom saga on repeat since it first aired.

I honestly thought God Games would be my favourite from all the snippets we heard, but Little Wolf SHOT up there to first place.

Now, seeing the latest tiktok Jorge released, I think we can anticipate Vengeance Saga coming out fairly soon, (maybe october?) so let me just say that my two favourite songs (that I’ve heard from snippets) are on there and I can’t WAITTT for them to come out.

Dangerous (oh my god Troy I love you) and Charybdis I CANT WAITTT

I love your Poseidon, he's like that... A pretty.

These blue-black long luxurious hair, elegant beard, weightless clothes, semi-nudity, strong, slender body, small slutty waist, cute face, these little earrings...

even his horse form is beautiful!!

Pelops, I understand you so well and I envy you with white envy.

I made this just for you.