#ramshacklemuses

[missgwendolyne]

@ramshacklemuses/ liked this starter call

“ So I think you're really gonna be impressed with my sketch,” Gwen told the other girl with a wide smile. The paper was clutched to her chest as if it was a big secret that warranted a grand reveal. A moment later the blond flipped over the sheet and held it at eye level for MJ to view. She laughed the entire time the other girl was looking at it. The drawing consisted of two stick figure, a sun drawn into the corner of the page, and a house in the background. In Gwen’s honest opinion it looked like this drawing should be hanging up in a kindergarten classroom. “ Alright now it’s time to show me what you’ve been working on. If you’re ready to show me I mean.” 

[graysongraysoff]

“Are you testing me?” Bruce and moody teenage Dick if ur still accepting this pls

“Are you – are you testing me?”

Dick’s tone was accusatory. Bruce resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“It’s your first solo mission,” Bruce said, voice level. “Did you think I’d have you busting a human trafficking ring?”

“I didn’t think you’d put the training wheels back on,” Dick spat. “I already passed your stupid gauntlet. I’ve been in the field with you for two years. Have I earned even a shred of your respect? Your trust?”

“You’ve been in the field with me for two years,” Bruce pointed out. “And I was the one running that gauntlet. This time you’ll be on your own –”

“Yeah, in the kiddie pool,” Dick pouted. Bruce counted to ten and tried not to think about chucking his teenage ward out one of the manor’s windows.

“Look, one way or another, Kite Man needs to be dealt with,” Bruce said. “You can either handle it, or you can stay home while I do.”

For a moment Bruce really thought that Dick would remain stubbornly seated at the Batcomputer, curled grumpily in on himself, dwarfed by Bruce’s massive chair.

“No, I’ve got it,” he finally sighed, pulling his domino mask down from his forehead and over his eyes as he stood. “Wouldn’t want to put you under that kind of pressure. I mean, Kite Man, God forbid.”

[harriedwritings]

    // closed for @ramshacklemuses // joy & wash

The angry tirade that he’d launched into had left him exhausted in all the ways. The fire had faded almost as quickly as it’d started, his limbs leaden and the space under his eyes hollow as he poured himself a coffee and plied it with sugar. He didn’t even remember the specifics of what he’d said, just that it was something to do with people judging situations without having the proper understanding required to do so. Really, he wasn’t entirely sure.

Wash hadn’t been sure this morning and he wasn’t now that he was standing, knocking on the front door of one of the people in group. She’d invited him round for dinner. Something about meeting her kid. He’d said yes. Why had he done that? He hadn’t been over at anyone’s place for dinner since...well, ever, really.

He thought.

It was frighteningly normal.

He’d called his sister for help. She’d talked him through it. He supposed it kind of made things a little easier to know that he’d never known how to go round for dinner, that the difficulty here wasn’t a direct result of Everything, it was just that it...didn’t help. For all that he knew that Joy’d been through some shit, knew some specifics of the situation (couldn’t for the life of him recall how he knew, but what else was new there?), it was weirdly startling how out of his depth he was.

But here he stood, reminding himself to knock, and knocking on her door with a lip gnawed raw and a bag of oranges clutched in his hand. He was late, a side effect of losing time management. Not too late, but late enough to be noticeable, and as he registered the door beginning to open, he was speaking,

“-- Sorry. Sorry, I...lost track of time. But oranges, though?”

[personatvs-archive]

@ramshacklemuses // continued

        ❛  -- that’s why you need to focus. ❜  bucky sighed, matching her frustration in his own, somewhat more contained way. with another deep breath, his arms crossed over his chest,  ❛  listen, let’s take a step back and think of some other way, all right? ❜

[kolanii-a-blog]

@ramshacklemuses (from here)

T’Challa’s own smile drifted a little, the corners turning up in sorrow rather than mirth. “It is,” he said, finally. The pain in his expression was subdued, but it was there, and he did not try to pretend it wasn’t. “It is very young. I was not prepared, and I am so much older- so to be only sixteen...” His chest rose and fell with a deep, regretful sigh. His feelings on his father were... complicated at best, now, but that did not make his death a welcome thing. 

He caught Natasha’s eye, quirked his lips into a somewhat forced - albeit openly so - smile again. “But Shuri is strong. Stronger than me, in many ways. And we will not let her suffer alone in her grief. Grief, I think, is... something to be shared, and worked through - not endured in silence, hm?” 

[skullshot-blog1]

@ramshacklemuses (from here)

Frank had debated with himself for a good half hour that morning- should he see her, should he hold off, was a Valentine's Day visit too much, etc. He almost hadn't shown up at all. Almost. But there, wandering along at Karen's side, eyes darting up now and then to look for threats in the dark, Frank knew he'd made the right choice. He'd been quiet, for the most part. Liked that it wasn't a problem, that they didn't feel the need to fill the silence with noise. Liked that neither of them had mentioned what day it was but both were hyper-aware of it: Frank felt that awareness in every pause in Karen's speech, every half-sighing chuckle he made in return. 

The dark drew in close as they walked, bringing the cold with it. Frank wanted to tell her, yeah, I'm having a nice time. He conveyed it with a look, instead- soft-eyed, looking sideways at her like a schoolboy with a crush, corner of his mouth quirking up into a slanted smile too fond to be secretive. He thought about really answering--about verbal expression and how inadequate his would feel--and both of them stopped walking almost at the same moment. 

Karen's hands were on his jaw, fingers splayed up over rough cheeks that warmed immediately under the touch. Frank didn't look startled, did not even feel it, and when her mouth met his and cold lips pressed to his hotter ones he could not find anything in his heart but sheer, dizzying delight. 

Frank had barely managed to reciprocate, frozen in that moment of joy, of gratitude, of affection--and when Karen dropped from her tiptoes the first thing he did was take gentle hold of her forearms to keep her hands up near his face. He was grinning, and trying not to. "Hey, hey," he said, like shushing an animal--maybe himself more than her. He drew in close, almost pressed their foreheads together, the pupils of his eyes huge and black and alive. Two hands and don't let go. "You run that by me again. Please."

[gotcompany]

ramshacklemuses replied to your post: ramshacklemuses replied to your post: ...

h o l y s h I t yeah I’m not even like obligatory Olympic rivalry salty Canada 100% Earned That Win

honestly both our teams did so well in the team skate i’m so proud of nagasu’s skate and adam rippon holy shit??? i’m glad patrick got first but i am fully team Adam Deserved Better (definitely shoulda scored higher than kolyada eye emm oh)

[spidermama]

ramshacklemuses replied to your post: peter: im not a doctor may: BUT I AM ...

I ALMOST MADE MJ SAY IT

YOU SHOULDVE

[exanimax]

Continued from here x

“So that means it’s our only idea, and currently the best one.” Eli peered down the staircase, knowing that it was a long way to the bottom. Since the elevator had been out of order for some time, he realised that it would have been difficult for Charlie to get to where she needed to go. “I’ll feel responsible if you get sick, so we’re going with my plan.”

[harriedwritings]

    // closed for @ramshacklemuses​ // charlie & ollie

Ollie would’ve been bitter about having had to move to America, but he wasn’t, because that wasn’t the kind of person that he was. Rather, he regarded this, as yet another thing that was happening, a non-permanent thing that he’d very easily be able to rectify once he a) became a legally independent adult, and b) figured out what to do. Frankly, the way he saw it (heh), everywhere was fucked these days. Best just to make do with what he had.

He also wasn’t particularly bitter about having been transferred into a school with a seeming penchant for being attacked by supervillains or whatever. At least it was exciting, he supposed? Not that that factored into his feelings towards being at a new school. It was just like any other, just with more of a chance of death. Statistically, they (he and the cousins who were also at this school) were more likely to die of America than of supervillains.

Still, that didn’t make it any less of a pain to navigate the halls of Midtown High, with its uniform doors and uniform halls and uniform lockers and zero landmarks, with all the information in tiny details that (shocker) he couldn’t see, even with the handy-dandy assistance afforded by carrying a cane. Thankfully, the teachers had made it a little easier on him, and typically let him leave the classroom five minutes earlier so he could actually find where he was trying to go.

On the plus side, this meant that with five minutes to lunch, he had a head start on, y’know, trying to find the fucking cafeteria. On the down side, having been here for long enough (by the school’s standards, anyway) to be supposed to know where he was going, considering he had no idea where the cafeteria was, and considering there being no one else around, it being before lunch, after all, he had no idea how to find the fucking cafeteria.

This was it, this was the way that he died. Standing next to some unknown locker, squinting at the blurs around him to try and figure out where the fuck he was supposed to go.

Wait. W a i t. Was that...footsteps? It was footsteps, and footsteps that grew louder, at that. He waited a moment longer, confirming that they were close enough to like, y’know, hear him. Assumedly. Right. Time to swallow the nerves that always came with talking to people, “-- Uh-- Excuse me. Sorry to bother you, but...uh... Yeah, I’ve no idea where I am. D’you have...any idea how to get to the cafeteria from here?”

[fcrgedstrength]

“What am I to you?” (from natasha for bucky)

Bucky searched her face, trying to figure out where the question had come from before he answered simply, “You’re my everything.”

[viiduae]

hey loser!

send ‘hey loser’ if i’m one of your fave blogs ; @ramshacklemuses ; accepting, pls love me !!

                      squeaks quietly because thank you so much????? i really am glad that people enjoy my random blogging bc honestly i feel so odd and silly on the dashboard i’m like damn i’m really doing something broken but you’re wonderful and that people like it really brightens my days you’re pretty great too, don’t ever forget that.

[spideyparkcr]

( @ramshacklemuses​ -- continued from here

“ ---oh, oh, that definitely counts. ” He’s grinning, resting his chin into his palm as she speaks. Peter tries not to laugh---really tries, but he still ends up chuckling at her story. His eyes fall to the label she’s peeling off, and lifts his head from his hand, intertwining his fingers together.

His back straightens, head tilting curiously as she continued. Eyes lower as an uneasiness falls over him---an ache in his chest. Charlie talked about her death so easily; she had more time to accept it then he had. He liked Charlie, cherished her as though he had known her most of his life. Who could really blame him for being melancholic?

His face scrunched when she stuck the label to his shirt and peeled it off, slowly wrapping it around his left, pointer finger. Eyebrows raise, a smile cracking on his face at her question. “ Oh, I--- ” A faint blush spreads across his cheeks as he shakes his head, focusing on the wrapper in his hand. “ Pretty much all the time. Sort of. Like...people on the subway or across the street walking home.” He sighs, lifting his head to look at her. “ That...probably doesn’t count though, does it? ” He pauses, tearing at the label that was wrapped around his finger. Peter wiggles the finger the best he can and smiles. “ I guess not either...not for real. ”

[kolanii-a-blog]

ramshacklemuses replied to your post: HEADCANON - FRANK. - personals don’t rb! As far as...

karen wants to. fuckin. hold him. but also maria does too??? it’s a confusing feeling for me bud.

PILES HIM INTO THEIR ARMS

[threeclaws]

@ramshacklemuses, date February 28th, 2018 [re: actor Hugh Jackman]: he’s such a soft boy how did they choose him to be the Roughest Boy

[gotcompany]

ramshacklemuses replied to your post: i just had a religious experience watching tess...

THAT WAS INCREDIBLE

they had to change their program because their rotation lift was basically her sitting on his face and they just...... wow. they.