#uh. astronomically worse

[istherewifiinhell]

Comes up from starting the difficult task after moving past all angles of avoiding frustration tears. Anyway we need to abolish the state so i dont have to do difficult paper work

[spikezonebby]

Hiii!! Can I request a gn!human reader song fic with the song Everywhere, Everything by Noah Kahan, with Tfp ratchet,

maybe some angst of ratchet realizing how frail his human is, and how he’s going to lose them eventually?

Everywhere, Everything - TFP!Ratchet/Human!GN!Reader

Word count: 1,352

Cybertronian protoform could score and dent, but ultimately all it took was a bit of filler and a bit of sanding to make it look as if nothing had happened. Organic flesh, though? Stitches, antiseptic, and time, then you’re still left with bumps, ridges, and discoloration that would take more pain yet to smooth away.

Ratchet had treated more than a few human wounds. Miko’s scraped knees, asphalt and gravel chunks in Jack’s hands, and the occasional bloody nose from Raf. You, though, could pinpoint the exact moment that the gears really started turning in Ratchet’s processor that things really, REALLY could be worse.

It was when Miko, in all her infinite wisdom, thought it would be fun to make everyone watch one of the Final Destination movies. The amount of car wreckages and graphic, often cartoonishly so, carnage wouldn’t be easy on anyone’s stomach or, uh… Fuel pump, in Bulkhead’s case. You had no idea Cybertronians could vomit but the floor behind the sofa has personal experience. 

Bumblebee tapped out immediately after to ‘go on patrol,’ as Raf had translated. Arcee wasn’t really paying attention and was much more enthralled with watching Jack play with a language app on his phone, occasionally giving him hints and pointers. Miko ended up abandoning her movie to go and wrangle Bulkhead, and of course, Optimus had other things to attend to. Which left just you and Ratchet.

You were going to offer to go do something else with your guardian when the medic’s servo cups around you, scooting you against his thigh. And, well, it’s hard not to feel safe when you’re securely held like the world’s dumbest hamster between two different surfaces of warm living metal. You push yourself up on his thigh, laying yourself as flat against his plating as possible to catch his attention.

“Yes?” He tacks your name onto the end, but his optics are affixed to the screen and his expression has this pinched look of concentration. 

“You okay, doc? You’re looking a little green around the gills.”

“What gills are you…” His optics finally flick down to you and it seems he registers the figure of speech. You love it when he gives you that funny, confused and exasperated look. He just looks so cute.

“I’m fine. Just thinking is all.”

Oh, there we go. There’s the dam breaking. You let him know you’re listening by looping your arm around his thumb and coaxing him to curl his digits loosely around you. His expression softens, especially when you press your cheek into the crux of his thumb and forefinger.

“How has your species survived when things like this,” He gestures to the screen with his off hand, “Can happen in the flicker of an optic?”

“The movie? Ratch, a lot of this is highly dramatized and takes astronomical amounts of bad luck.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say we’re brimming with good fortune around here.” Ratchet says with an audible grimace.

“Well,” You wrap your arms around his thumb, then press a kiss to his pad, “I still think I’m one very lucky human.” 

It is then, that you fear, Ratchet was thinking about a little more than just how accident prone humans tend to be. He scoops you up in his servo and holds you to his chest until you’re close enough to his workbench for you to set him down.

Ratchet snorts a chuckle, but he doesn’t seem wholly convinced. His index finger comes around and gently strokes down your back as the medic bot becomes lost in thought once more. The movie ends and everyone who’s left– Just you two plus Arcee and Jack, really– Returns to their stations. Ratchet takes you with him back to the medbay so you can ‘help him test something.’

“M.E.C.H was certifiably insane but they knew what they were lacking.” Ratchet muses, knocking his knuckles against his own chassis, “Humans are soft, squishy, and vulnerable. Of course some kind of armor would be the logical choice. Not certain why your evolution hasn’t started developing something of that sort, you have animals that have done it already.”

“Probably because we’re not animals.” You point out, letting Ratchet go about taking tons and tons of tiny measurements with various rudimentary tools kept in the medbay, “Well, we are but not that kind of animal. And evolution takes millions of years of environmental pressures to stimulate. Instead of getting tougher, humans evolved to be smarter. Don’t have to protect yourself from a situation if you can avoid being in said situation to start with.”

Ratchet actually has to pause in his measuring to give you a long, weary look.

“Okay we you’ve seen evidence of this, Ratch. Example A, Miko and Raf.”

“Alright, alright.” Ratchet sighs, taking a seat at the workbench before you. “You have me there. I’m not giving up so easily though. There has to be something I can do.”

“Babe,” It’s your turn to sigh as you pat your hand against Ratchet’s forearm plating. “You’re like three degrees off of going full Shockwave, I can feel it.”

Ratchet sputters, “I am not! I actually have a medical license!”

“Ratchet,” You say his name as a fond, tired note that you mean with so much love, even if you know he might not listen to you. “Come down here for me, please.”

He’s still just a little offended by the Shockwave comment, but he leans down anyway, resting his weight on his arms so his face is level with you. Immediately you flatten your palms out on the white kibble on his cheeks. He leans into your hands, and you take the opportunity to bump your forehead– Or rather, your entire head– between his red chevron brows.

“Talk to me, doc.” You say, as his optics finally meet your gaze, “Where’s your head at?”

His expression screws up, like a kid that just licked a lemon, but you hold him there and you let him find his words.

“...I can’t be there all the time.” He begins, clipped and shamed. You don’t interrupt him. When he lifts his helm up and away from you, he doesn’t leave you entirely and instead cups you in both of his servos. “I hate the thought that something might happen to you and I won’t be there to save you.”

“Ratchet…”

“And we can’t just lock you up here with us! Primus, the kids need someone looking out for them while the others are off getting the slag beat out of them.”

“Ratch, I’ve been surviving most of my adult life on my own. I’m capable of getting myself out of a scrape.”

“That was before you got pulled into all of this war nonsense! And I wish Optimus would just listen to me when I say you would have been better off if you couldn’t prove we were real and then maybe the ‘Cons couldn’t find you.”

“...But then we wouldn’t be partners.”

Ratchet sighs, optics slipping shut as he tries to compose his thoughts. He shakes his helm.

“And I… I almost hate that thought more than seeing you hurt. Almost.”

You know he means it. You know how much he cares about you and what he’d sacrifice just for your sake. But he’s forgetting one vital thing.

“My feelings matter here too. And I can tell you with absolute certainty… My life is better, richer, with you guys in it.”

You reach up and coax your big medbot back down to you. He obliges, and you happily flatten yourself out against his cheek in a hug.

“I don’t ever wish not to be here, because then I know I’d lose one of the most important things in my life. You guys– Arcee, Bee, Bulk, Smokey, Optimus, you– are my family. And I can’t see myself anywhere but right by your side.”

Ratchet’s vocalizers make this low static rumble as he leans into you, cupping your tiny body against him in his servo.

“Gah, you’re sappy.” Ratchet grumbles, you just laugh.

“I mean it, though.”

“Yeah. I know you do.” 

[eroguron0nsense]

Kinda crazy how Crocodile and Doffy were both allowed to rot in Impel Down after abusing their positions as warlords for regime change/world domination and it got *extensively* covered by the press (esp in Doffy's case because they couldn't get a spin doctor to give anyone else credit or downplay the severity of what the Navy was complicit in before Fujitora did his thing), whereas the most serious "crimes" Ace commits on screen are fighting other pirates and dining/dashing (I know he beat a warlord at one point as well but whatever, so did Luffy) and yet the navy's urge to commit mass collective punishment/demonstrate absolute power over their most maligned political enemies is so strong that the second they found out this very secret information about Ace being Roger's son that no one else knew existed, the navy went straight to public execution and wanting to put his head on a wall for purely symbolic purposes at the expense of countless troops and resources with the very nebulous goal of hoping that killing this one young man would discourage people from finding the One Piece because that's how things work and nothing could possibly go wrong here. Obviously, there's only so much attention they want to draw and it's risky to punish a warlord THAT publicly because it might undermine their working relationship with the others and also draw more attention to their failings, but uh The Summit War is the most ridiculous tactical blunder on every conceivable level like holy fucking shit is it any wonder whatsoever that it went so astronomically poorly? How do you achieve both your stated objectives and end up in a much worse position than before? Like, speaking as someone who was supposed to be a journalist or spin doctor before hard pivoting to activism, those PR guys pushing the story of a Navy victory or an end to the great pirate era in any capacity are stretching so far it'd make Luffy jealous Anyway, in conclusion, fascism and punitive justice are autocannibalistic in nature and constantly undermine themselves by pursuing cruelty for its own sake, or something like that.

[frecklystars]

I'm sorry to make a vent post :c I hate being negative but I haven't been online in a couple of months and this kind of explains why + I really needed to let this out somewhere. TW for mentions of self harm and suicide mention, this vent post is a little bit heavy.

i havent been online for a couple of months now except one (1) time, and then i left again, just letting my queue post as always. my cptsd/depression/anxiety has been astronomical levels of Terrible. going offline just made me feel so so so much worse bc this is where i normally self ship and post my art. not blogging about my F/Os, not drawing them, not editing videos/not making gifs, feels... really really bad. self shipping is my main coping mechanism and not being able to self ship makes everything feel 50 billion times more hopeless. so I should try to get back into that habit again

its july. its gonna be my anniversary w/ the two F/Os who breathed life back into me when i was at my absolute worst. i should be really excited to celebrate an F/O anniversary for the first time in two years, but ive been... so... fucking miserable. the last few months i have been back into My Worst State Of Mind Ever. i have been having really bad days where im slipping back into planning how to end my life and self harming again like i did a year ago. this isnt an everyday occurrence as of right now, and rn as im queueing this post, i am not planning currently. but every other day i slip back into those old self destructive bad habits, so it's safe to say my depression is definitely Worse. im trying to figure out how to uh, hang in there. because i can't stop the source of the Thing that is causing me to feel like my only escape option is ending my life. this isn't just my mental health/a chemical imbalance in the brain making me feel this way, this is entirely situational and out of my control.

i know the source of my problem and why i feel this way, and i cannot control it. i havent talked about it on my blogs bc i dont wanna scare anyone, and i will NOT go into details here, but i havent felt safe in a very very very long time. i contacted the authorities back in January this year, i am planning to contact them again soon, but im afraid they can't do anything for me until things get worse than they already are. it sucks that you have to wait until things are literally impossible to get through until the authorities even CONSIDER helping you.

i have just been trying to take everything one day at a time and vent to a few close friends when i need to, but this has been so unbearably difficult to endure every single day. ive been dealing with this FAR longer than a few months, but regarding these last few months specifically, i feel like i haven't been functioning like a person. every single second i am just,,, scared and paranoid, this is the only thing i am ever thinking about because im so, so stressed. i dont WANT to think about it but i literally am incapable of having any peace. every few weeks, something scary regarding my situation happens, and makes my anxiety worse. i cannot tell you how scared ive been. im so scared every day that this is going to kill me, whether it's the actual situation that will kill me, or my own anxiety/fear will drive me into making an irreversible choice. which! i don't wanna do! i genuinely don't want to end my life, i just - i feel extremely trapped in this situation and i've felt very very very hopeless about it for a LONG ass time, and that shit weighs on you over time

my fear/paranoia has affected my self shipping, and self shipping is my main source of comfort, i cant lose it. i keep losing it. ive lost so much already i dont want to lose my F/Os all over again. i keep thinking there’s no point in self shipping because my F/Os would betray me or harm me in some way. i know they’re imaginary and they can’t hurt me IRL but like, from a self shipping standpoint, i can’t stop fretting over all of it being a huge trick. like they’re pretending to love me so they can betray me later. i can’t get any relief, I am having panic attacks all the time, my flashbacks are worse than ever. I can’t self ship and I can’t... function. i'm so messed up from everything that has been happening to me, i feel like healing is impossible at this point. i really hope that is just the severe anxiety/depression/ptsd talking. i hate being negative, i dont want to have such a pessimistic outlook, but it's just felt so... hopeless. like there is no point. but what am i gonna do, not try to feel things with my F/Os again? what am i gonna do, not self ship ever again?? i really have nothing else to do except try my best every day to get through this. or kill myself - and i dont wanna go down that latter road again bc its messy and it sucks and its expensive when you fail and i have permanent scars from the last time i failed two years ago, and i! want! to! get better! i dont genuinely want to die, i just want to escape my situation! this situation i am in should not be worth ending my life over. but i am scared all the time and that hopeless feeling is so heavy and it's just getting harder and harder to carry for so so so so long

i have friends both IRL and online who are trying to help me get back into a safe situation again, but there is only so much we can all do. so i just have to keep taking all of this shit one day at a time and just hope and pray some sort of miracle gets me through this. its been years so i really dont believe theres a way out anymore but i am just! agh!! fucking angry and sad and terrified 24/7 and sick of dealing with this, so i will keep powering through every day even if i gotta kick and scream the entire time.

ok anyway! im gonna stay offline for a little while longer (this is queued, if anyone is kind enough to reply/send an ask, i will try to respond when i return) but i will come back slowly but surely sometime maybe this week, next week at the latest. i at least want to celebrate my July 21st anniversary :( thats my most important one this year. i really really really need to get back into the habit of self shipping even if i dont feel much for my F/Os atm. i refuse to just lay down and take this, i want to at least try to feel something again even if it hurts.

thank you to those who have been patient with me with replies; tumblr says i have over 200 inbox messages and 99+ dms since ive been gone. i will try to get back to people slowly but surely, its just probably gonna take me a hot minute. if anyone has the free minute, if you can just send me something like "everything will be okay" in my inbox, i would super appreciate it 😭🙏 and thank you to anyone who took the time to read my ramblings.

[tobyyobyy]

carl grimes headcannons because we lack of anything for him and i can (most, if not all, are just non-apocalypse headcannons):

- autistic (we are starting off strong here)

- vocally stims vines sometimes (“road work ahead? uh yeah i sure hope it does”, “look at all those chickens”, “i wanna be a cowboy baby”) (he does that last one in front of rick a lot and rick never understands it’s from vine)

- judith: “daddy?”

- carl: “DO I LOOK LIKE-?”

- glenn taught him a lot of stupid jokes like “ligma” and “joe mama” (the usual college kid jokes)

- would use the “joe mama” joke on judith a lot

- judith would retaliate with ligma jokes (“we have the same mom idiot”)

- no one knows where she learnt that one

- loved science as a kid

- switched between wanting to become a cop like rick or an astronomer

- thought about being a palaeontologist but couldn’t see himself doing it for the rest of his life

- didn’t have a lot of friends but was still liked by other kids anyways (doesn’t mean he’s popular, people are just neutral about him)

- is on a swim team

- just likes swimming in general

- MOMMA’S BOY!!!!!

- then lori died so he made that transition over to his dad…yeah

- keeps his hair long and went through that teenage grunge phase

- listens to bands like oasis, los campensinos, nirvana, foo fighters, etc etc

- his parents music taste would sneak in sometimes tho like fleetwood mac, abba (lori) bob dylan, johnny cash (rick), any 80’s songs and old country (below the 70’s)

- because of that grunge phase he’d 100% play the electric guitar

- his grandpa taught him a bit of acoustic whenever they’d visit

- he plays the acoustic sometimes for judith, or anyone in his family who asks, but mainly judith

- plays more chill songs like something you’d find in the ‘life is strange’ soundtrack (bright eyes, angus and julia stone, iron & wine) (most of those are from enid’s music taste)

- rick and michonne let him use the garage but it still drives them up the walls when he jams out with friends

- doesn’t understand the superbowl but because his dad likes it he makes an effort to watch it with him because no one else will

- jump scares any unsuspecting victim when they turn the corner of a wall

- to calm down whenever he’s stressed/overwhelmed/overstimulated he’ll either go swimming or ask his grandparents to come over (they own a farm) to ride some horses

- allergic to peanuts (not pecans because they had to eat some when they met Gabriel so)

- hates anything deep fried except for fish

- terrible in any form of skating

- roller skating? keeps slamming into the wall

- ice skating? uses those kid-balance-crutches-thingys

- he just has terrible coordination

- obviously gets worse when he looses his eye

- he’s good at bowling tho

- even tho he’s a moody teenager he’s EXTREMELY kind

- switches from sciences to arts and english in high school

- started making little family portraits drawings

- can actually understand old english/shakespeare

- makes blanket forts with judith 24/7

- actually does have a southern accent it’s just more like loris (less noticeable than ricks)

- would 100% watch minecraft youtubers

- bisexual little shit (duh)

- when he was a kid he didn’t have a fear of needles but as he grew up he just DESPISED them like shaking screaming crying and throwing up type deal

- hums a lot to judith, usually the song “baby mine”

- snapchat user

- embarrassingly so. especially when he uses the filters

- has a diary and calls it a diary not a journal

- drops trauma like it’s nothing, like a silly joke (this is basically canon but i’ll still include it in)

- headphones on 24/7 might as well be glued to his head (his ears are too small for earphones and he likes soundproof headphones anyways)

- an entire shelf in his closet is just for comics (and some comics are thin so you can imagine how many he has)

- likes reading other things too instead of just comics

- refuses to wear elastics/tie his hair up even if it gets in his way a lot

- let’s judith put silly hairclips in it

- sometimes forgets to take them out when he gets to school but he doesn’t care much

- would watch: the office, brooklyn nine-nine, the breakfast club & moral orel

[kavalyera]

Howdy! Really intrigued by Manila by Night! Can i have the whole down of the Kindred Politics- like the Primogen council, the Anarchs, etc?

Also I saw that a Baron had his father ghouled by the Prince- how'd that happen?

I really like reading about your game! I love hearing about other people's Chronicles!

HAIIII HELLOOOWWWW thank you so much for asking about Manila by Night which means I have a reason to infodump about it <3 I was shaking when I got this BELIEVE ME !!!

Okay, so Manila in this chronicle is highly Camarilla dominated due to manipulation and propagandra imprinted by the prince and her primogen which consists of:

- Louisa Grace I. Mallari (she/her) of Clan Toreador

- Professor R. Aquino (he/him) of Clan Tremere

- Trisha Marie Gonzalez (she/they) of Clan Malkavian

- Samuel Fernandez (they/them) of Clan Nosferatu

- and very recently added to the roster—Serena Liwanag (she/her) of Clan Lasombra.

and then we have the bitch herself, the head of Manila’s ivory tower (well it’s more of a concrete tower knowing Manila is insanely brutalist) — Prince Alejandra Miriam Salvador de Silva (she/her) (uh huh yes that’s her full name. It’s the average filipino name my irl name is MUCH longer😭) is your average Ventrue prince except she is fueled by astronomical levels of hatred towards those that oppose her rule because in her mind, her and her primogen have done nothing but good for the city (well…).

There is a LOT I want to say about her, considering her tight grip on Manila is honestly a result of her traumas and fears.

There are two major anarchs right now, that being a brujah baron, David Ramos (Domingo) and his childhood best friend, Mae Fernando (Her actual name is Marianne Santos shh) who is a Gangrel!

Currently! Mae is the stand in Baron of Tondo for David alongside others who he added into the mix just in case the Prince wanted to target Tondo next. Which is funny because both he and Mae are technically neonates.

And yea so, David is the Baron of Tondo which is the most impoverished district in Manila hence why I made it an anarch state +it was where a revolutionary hero in Philippine history was born and raised in back then. So basically, David was never from Tondo in fact he’s from Makati City but his father, Francisco Domingo was very distant towards him as he was busy being a cop😭 Anyways! David was a really rebellious kid as he hung out what his dad would call “batang kalye” (street kids) or even worse; “walang kwenta sa mundo na bata” (kids with no purpose on this earth).

Of course, David valued relationships a whole lot, and he was always with kids and adults that taught him not to be a bootlicking cunt. Eventually, during a fire in Manila, David was embraced by a Brujah most likely someone he hung out with a lot and his father thought he was dead.

During the time David was learning the ropes of the Camarilla and the Anarchs in Tondo, away from Makati—Francisco became chief of police of the Manila Police Department where Prince de Silva sought him out during her ever growing grip on the city so she could have more control on the mortals that inhabited her city. She doesn’t know that David is Francisco’s son…yet since David is in hiding for slowly becoming infamous. And also because the Nosferatu Primogen is the Prince’s right hand man.

As of now, Alejandra has Francisco arrest (and brutally beat) kindred that stand in her way of her vision of a perfect city. She put kindred and ghouls in the police force to better aid her pursuit of power.

As a bonus, here are some fun facts!

- David and Mae’s relationship is based off of the corny ass relationship I see on Filipino television but I made it kalye rebel core

- Alejandra is based off of several Filipino politicians, mostly corrupt because she is. I drew inspiration mostly from the current government seat holders from 2010-2024 however I won’t be naming any or else I might get redtagged /j

- The entire chronicle only has Filipino characters so far!

- Serena’s last name, Liwanag, means light in Tagalog. Funny because she’s a Lasombra.

- David’s name is a reference to “David and the Goliath” story

- Like every Prince, Alejandra’s tower is the Ramon Magsaysay Building, probably one of my favorite brutalist buildings ever in Manila and I chose it because my cousins in Manila fucking hate it lmao so she gets it

- Bonifacio Global City or BGC Manila is THE Camarilla infested area. Skyscrapers, vibrant night life, exclusivity of supplies—this is where the Lasombra, Serene is; managing a night club for kindred (aka Elysium)

- The youngest primogen is Serena, embraced in the 1900’s rather than in the 1700’s-1800’s like the others.

- Louisa and Samuel are distantly related, which is quite silly because Louisa is a Toreador and Samuel is a Nosferatu. Louisa is a very distant cousin of Samuel, they never met properly when they were alive but yeah

- Prof. Aquino is a hematology professor at the University of Santo Thomas!

- Explaining this here now because none of yall are Filipino but kalye means street or alleyway, but colloquially it means someone who has this rebellious spirit or is a really loud, outspoken person. Hence the prince and the primogen call the Anarchs “batang pangkalye” (kids only good for the streets)

anyways enough yapping from me—THANK YEWWW SO MUCHHHHH FOR LETTING ME YAP ABOUT MANILA BY NIGHT‼️ my special interest is filipino culture and history so yeah audhhsshs

[star-ocean-peahen]

So there's this fun (sarcastic) saying/belief that gets thrown around Christian circles. Idk if its just my circles, just Baptists, just evangelicals, or whatever. But, it is not unusual to hear someone say that they wish they could just die and go to heaven because this life sucks so much. Growing up I heard this from my teachers, my friends, my youth leaders. And this Sunday i listened to the sermon and the pastor straight up said that this life is nothing but suffering and pain and the only happiness we'll ever get is in heaven because God is there and the only reason we should stay on earth is to evangelize. Straight up said that death is preferable to life. That life has no meaning outside of making more people Christians so they can be happy in heaven too. That it is not only normal, but spiritually healthy to feel like there is nothing good in life and the only way you'll be happy is being dead.

And uh. I hope you can see why that's a problem.

I heard that sermon, and then i went home and sobbed. I screamed and cried for the eleven-year-old girl with undiagnosed mental illnesses and constant pain who was told from the pulpit—from the people whose words she was supposed to internalize unequivocally—that life would never get better, and the only way to feel relief and happiness was to die. I cried for the kid who wanted to die because it was the only way out they could see. They told me it would never get better.

This is normal. I grew up in a culture that normalized and glorified wanting to die. I cannot imagine how astronomically worse it must be for people in the church who actually experience suicidal impulses. Their lives are actively being endangered by the church, and I've never heard anyone say anything about it.

It just. Hurts. To realize this.

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

hii! please tell us more about the private investigator au (only if you want to ofc) <3

ah im so glad you asked!!

itd be set a little bit earlier than oph. tbh cant decide if itd be in boston, chicago, or hawaii (specifically wherever his parents live) but eventually theyd end up in hawaii. bryce is uh,, doing bryce things ig (idk his career. if anything hed be in med school) but hes detatched himself from his parents and fam name (maybe even changed his last name? unclear). he knows theyre doing some shady ass shit and have been for a long time, but he cant prove it. when they get the clear to expand their business outside of just hawaii, hes ready to do something about it

for years hes been trying to look into their account information and get info from their clients, but it just never went anywhere. he thought about a PI before but never really had the means to do it. with the expansion, he knows everything is going to be astronomically worse, and theyre going to hurt a lot more people, so he finally seriously starts looking into it

jensen is a PI. hes impressive, solved a few newsworthy cases, but hes also pretty new. and, his rep with clients isnt the greatest. reviews say hes too honest, doesnt spare details he probably should, but he also doesnt bullshit them. so, bryce sets up a meeting w him

now im me, so ofc this has turned into a movie-length plot with more action and suspense than it needs, but idfc!! jensen agrees to take the case, which leads to the two of them working together a lot (even though jensen insists bryce does Not need to help)

jensen ends up finding some very promising information that could lead to more, but they need closer information to his parents. so, it means bryce either has to a) tolerate them or b) send keiki in on a mission. while he would prefer the latter, he ends up going w the former just so nothing gets fucked up, but doesnt know exactly what jensen needs from him.

cue the fam dinner where jensen pretends to be his bf for the night to get the shit they need and get out (while they bicker like an old married couple the whole time. keiki knows theyre not together but she tells them theyre incredibly convincing)

i dont have a whole lot of other details planned, but eventually they do get all the info they need and obvi take down his parents company <3

[onthenightwatch]

YOU WORE THE FREDBEAR SUIT!?!?!?!?!?

THATS SO ASTRONOMICALLY WORSE!

At least Springbonnie has a dedicated furry to make sure they’re still up to standards!

…even if those standards are incredibly low.

The bear on the other hand? Literally killed a kid! And I doubt they’ve cleaned much of the dried blood off of it! Hell, that might be to do with why it unsettles you so. But still, they wouldn’t waste the money on maintenance for it, because they can’t even get it back into use!

Springbonnie though? They can get back on stage no problem! No big controversy about the old golden rabbit performing again! Didn’t kill a kiddie! I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Afton spontaneously decides to just put the suit on again sometime, for like a birthday or something! He was one hell of a performer, got really into character, it’d honestly be a shame if he didn’t go back out in the suit sometime.

Just… stay safe, please. Avoid the death traps.

-E

Sorry. I won’t do that again. Wasn’t even planning on it. There uh. Was a tiny bit of staining, yeah. Maybe not tiny… uh. Never mind.

I honestly think that suit could be used again, too. It was in good condition. Still looks pretty neat.

And um. Trying to avoid danger always ends up putting me in more danger, so… I’ll just keep doing what I always have, I guess.

[forestshadow-wolf]

Uh okay so turns out I'm a little less normal about this 2 minute post than I thought so... *whoops I slipped* oh nooo... some of my angst......👀

Whatever it is that's made him angry, it's bad. Super astronomically, ruin your life for months, bad. Usually he's so good at curbing the red and purple violence, but not this time. He actively forces himself to freeze. Hands clenching and uncleanching. Lungs crushingly heavy with rage. Jaw locked up tight against the onslaught of anger bubbling up. He storms off to god knows where.

Ghost is only notified hours later. He's not sure how long it's been, but he can only hope the answer is long enough because he really doesn't want to deal with the fallout of having someone accidentally thrown at his head again. It's hard enough keeping soap near proximity as it is, much less when he soap's starts pulling away more. Last time it happened it was a month before soap would allow himself in the same room as simon for more than 5 minutes without supervision. To be quite honest, ghost is so sure that it's because he terrifies himself, and he thinks that if it terrifies him the it must terrify Ghost as well. He's so afraid of becoming something from Ghost's past, he won't, Ghost knows it, now if he could only convince soap of it.

When he finds soap, he's in the gym, dripping exertion, beating the life out of one of the punching bags with bleeding fists. And he shows no signs of slowing. He doesn't even react to the glass gym door slamming closed behind ghost, like he hadn't even heard it. He doesn't respond to his name nor his rank. He just keeps on going. And going. And going.

It's only when ghost takes the gamble to wrap himself around soap from behind, clamping his arms over top of soap's. Less to restrain him, and more to avoid injury from an elbow that surely would have flown.

Ghost notes off the stages. First it's the flash of the eyes, and soap locks up. Then he disappeared, where to? He's still puzzling that one together. Next it's the running. Literal running for what must equate to miles and miles. Followed by whatever you call... this. Ghost doesn't like this step, it hurst to see soaps work himself into and well past over exertion, but he doesn't know how to stop it. It's the screaming and shoving now. And ghost thinks this is the worst part of it all. They say it gets worse before it gets better, and it is horrible.

"GER AFFA ME! DON' FOKIN TOUCH ME!" And he's shoving back with his shoulders and pulling forward with his legs, trying to slip from ghost's grasp. Ghost hugs him tighter, soap's elbow slam backwards. It knocks the breath out of him, but still he holds on. "GET TE FUK OFFA ME! I'LL FOKIN'- I SWEAR TO- GHOST GET TA FOK AFFA ME!" And ghost can only hang on and bury his face into the crook of his neck as he continues shoving and shouting.

He lets soap wear himself out, but he doesn't go down without a fight. No, absolutely not. It wouldn't be soap otherwise. No because as soon as ghost deems him calm enough to loosen his hold, he's off again.

This time fueled less by anger, and more by whatever follows... disappointment? Regret? More anger? Disgust? Contempt? Dread? Revolt? Panic? Motrification?

It doesn't matter because whatever it is won't let soap just stop. It won't let go

He already on his feet and halfway to the cleaners' closet Before ghost can even get to his own feet.

There's blood in the entire vicinity. On the equipment, on the floor, in their clothes where they dropped down into it. There's a smudged trail from ghost to the cleaning closet from where soap presumably stepped in it and smeared it actually the floor.

Soap's shaking. Very clearly shaking. From exertion and energy. Soap sets to work. He's got blood running the length of his forearm. His knuckles are split, and the edges are peeling back with tension, and they're still bleeding, it hurts. Ghost knows it hurts. And the clorox chemicals won't help with that. Blood drips onto the floor from his fists as he wipes at the stains, it only seems to spur more agitation, and soap wipes at the red again.

Soap won't stop until He's done. He never does. Never leaves a job half finished. Ghost sets himself to work too, it'll speed up the process. Maybe it's not as bad as he thought, maybe soap will have tired himself out by the time they're done, enough to let ghost coax them back to their room so he can crash.

Ghost's hopes were in vain. Next thing he knew he was chasing soap out to the track, past that, into the dense trees on the south side of the base. To be honest he should have prepared better, he knew soap was a flight risk.. again. He doesn't understand how soap hadn't collapsed yet. He was literally shaking with exhaustion, and yet he kept pushing himself. And at this point ghost isn't sure if it was better to let him get it out now, or to stop it and have to watch soap spiral for the coming days. Maybe this is the lesser of two evils, at least he can be there to catch him when he's funally burnt himself to a char. If he stops him now, he knows he'll have to watch as soap shuts off his emotions to avoid the anger until it dissolves, and he won't be back to any semblance of himself for weeks following. But damn if he doesn't hate this.

It's a while before soap properly tires himself out, panting, collapsed against a tree stump. Looking down, more than likely berrating himself (if ghost has learned anything about the man). He watches soap shove himself up, only for his legs to give beneath him. Ghost catches him before he can crash to the ground.

He remembers the first time this happened, ghost hadn't been able to find soap at all after he'd disappeared the first time. He remembers watching soap all but drag himself back to their room, limping, and disheveled, and so so broken.

Soap shakes in his arms as he hauls them back to their room. From exertion or more anger, ghost doesn't know.

He finds out soon enough when he's tending to soap's split knuckles, and the scot is squeezing his mad in a death grip as ghost wipes away blood. Anger it is then. Ghost doesn't flinch from it. Only continues his ministratons. He works in silence. Soap won't talk, he knows that, and ghost won't pry.

He's finished quickly, leaving the mess to deal with later, he herds them to the bed laying soap down, and then himself ontop of him. It helps, he thinks. The compression. It seems to anyway.

Soap's still visibly angry they next day as well, but theres a carefully crafted lid capped on it, so the only thing to worry about is the fire in his gaze burning some poor sod.

Still gjost doesn't ask about it, and soap doesn't offer. He'll likely never know, only that soap took a week of leave to "take care of business", and he's fine with that.

Soap comes back still angry, but in a mellow simmering kind. It doesn't consume him, soap seems to breathe just a little easier.

Yeah idk how to end this...

Soap who hates his anger issues so he tries to tamp them down, but that just causes them to explode out at a later time. Which in turn makes him angrier because why can't he just be more docile. Why does he have to be so violent ALL THE DAMN TIME.

[depravity-n-savagery]

Fucking Eddie Behind Jason's Back 😏

Eddie Munson x (fem)Reader ♡ 18+ MINORS DNI ♡ Smut, cheating, public sex, revenge, bullying

♡ A/N: Is it a headcannon? Is it a blurb? Your guess is as good as mine 🤣 🤣 I just wanted to get this idea out of my head, so it's not perfect. I'm crawling my way out of writer's block 😮‍💨

❤️‍🔥 - Everyone has their vices, no matter how squeaky clean they try to appear in public. Eddie's clients ranged from the usual tweaked-out fiends that hung around dark corners and alleyways, to the all-American honors student that attended every church service on time. They all needed something to cope with this fucked up town and it's constant troubles. 

❤️‍🔥 - At first, Eddie didn't want to sell you anything. You approached him after school, timidly pulling at the hem of your cheer skirt. He wasn't aware at the time, but you had rolled up the waistline of the garment. Shortening the material so that it barely covered your ass. Every move was calculated. Batting your eyes and shifting innocently from foot to foot. "Could you help me, Eddie?" It was a death wish in his eyes. Everyone in school knew that you were Jason's girl. His precious little trophy. The head cheerleader with good grades and a spotless reputation. Whispers in the halls said you even vowed to make Jason wait until marriage, before he could deflower you. The boy was so sprung, he actually agreed. Or so you thought.

❤️‍🔥 - Day after day you came to him whenever he was alone. Each time in a slightly more provocative state of dress. Teeny-tiny skirts, low-cut tops with ample cleavage that you hid under your cardigan until it was time to see him. Eddie's resolve could only take so much. "I'm usually never one to turn away a customer." He fiddled with his rings, twisting the thick silver skull on his digit. "But uh… Your boyfriend and I already have a thing going on. Adding a third seems a bit risky. Don't you think?" The shy girl facade takes a hit, exposing only a sliver of annoyance. "My boyfriend doesn't own me. I'm a big girl, Eddie. I just need something to help me relax after cheer practice. I want to feel good." You stepped in closer to him. Closer than you've ever been before. "Can you help me?" 

❤️‍🔥 - Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Eddie wanted to bash his head into the steering wheel. How did he let you wear him down? Talk him into driving you to his trailer for weed? Like a little temptress, you giggled and flirted your way right into his bedroom. It was then, finally, that realization hit him. You weren't there for weed. You were there to test him in a way so sinful he almost pondered God's existence. This was clearly some kind of divine trial, and he was about to fail astronomically. 

❤️‍🔥 - The first time you and Eddie fucked, he was riddled with guilt. Jason was a massive piece of shit, but this was a step farther than throwing passive-aggressive insults his way at school. This could escalate into something worse than having the basketball team whisper rumors about him in the halls. Images of violent retaliation flashed through his mind. Meanwhile, you were still sprawled out across his bed. Naked and blissed out farther than you've ever been while sober. "I can feel you overthinking from here, Eddie. Reeeally killin' the vibe for me." If only to ease Eddie's mind a bit, you tell him nobody will find out about this. Jason has been distant lately, and you felt so neglected. So empty and needing something to soothe it all. Eddie turned out to be the perfect remedy. 

❤️‍🔥 - Eddie avoids you for the next three days, trying to do the 'right thing' despite having a burning urge to fuck you again. He hated himself for it. "Jesus, Munson… stop thinking with your dick and be a better person." He stares into the dingy mirror in the school bathroom. "Who am I kidding…" A familiar cluster of masculine jeers and amusement raises the hair on his arms. The basketball team. Jason. All heading toward the bathroom. Eddie hastily locks himself in one of the stalls, standing on the toilet seat to avoid them recognizing his beaten reeboks. 

"Did you see the look on his face?! Ha! That lard-ass should've watched where he was going. Freshmen little shits."

Jason's voice was unmistakable.  "Served him right. You see the way he follows that Freak around? Probably a new recruit for his cult. Gettin' the shit knocked out of him hopefully gave him a change of heart."

Five minutes of twisted celebration later, the bathroom was empty again. And Eddie was furious. 

❤️‍🔥 - Eddie let you find him this time. Lingering in the drama room after Hellfire, taking his sweet time putting everything away. Seeing Dustin's black eye only fueled the rage inside him. Fuck morality and doing the 'right thing'. Jason was gonna get his, one way or the other. He played the part when you approached him, speaking in terms of a drug sale. Only the two of you knew the true meaning behind it. He accepted and took you back to his trailer as fast as his worn-out van would allow. 

❤️‍🔥 - The second time Eddie fucks you, he had tons of steam to let off and something to prove. Splitting you open with every heavy, hard thrust. Both of your legs are tossed over his shoulders, writhing as your third orgasm consumes you. His hand is around your neck, rings digging into your skin every time he tightens his grip. "Say my name, sweetheart." He groans, rolling his hips right into your sweet spot. "Tell me who owns this pussy now." 

❤️‍🔥 - Obviously he couldn't leave marks on you, but he was happy to let you mark him up to your heart's content. Soon he was showing up to school with dark purple and red blotches decorating his neck and collarbone. The members of Hellfire would gape at him, but refused to ask what everyone was thinking. Even if they did, Eddie wouldn't tell them anything. No, you were his precious secret vice now. He wouldn't do anything to fuck that up. 

The second best part of his day (the first being when he makes plans with you) was hearing the jocks grumble amongst themselves. "Did you see The Freak's neck? What desperate slut was low enough to fuck him?!" Oh, Jason… if only you knew.

❤️‍🔥 - Over time he'll push the limits of your secrecy. Buying you sexy lingerie to wear under your cheer uniform, knowing Jason will never get your clothes off to see it. You liked the feeling of wearing something he bought you. Even more when it was something of Eddie's. A silent claim over you. Like the cum he filled you with before school, just so you could walk around all day with it soaking your panties. 

❤️‍🔥 - Word got around about Jason. He was spotted leaving the Motel 6 with Chrissy, unaware that one of your friends also takes her hookups there from time to time. It was the talk of the school before the second period could even start. Jason skipped, like a coward. Not answering calls. At least Chrissy had the decency to face you and apologize - admitting that the two of them have been fooling around for months. Long before you hooked up with Eddie. 

❤️‍🔥 - "You sure about this?" Eddie asked, pulling up to a neighborhood he's never seen before. It was lined with large houses and perfectly manicured lawns. Jason's residence was just a few houses ahead. You were ready to set his world on fire. Just as Eddie had been the day he bruised Dustin's face. "One-hundred percent." He parked right in front of Jason's place, happy to see his parent's car was gone. 

"Then come'ere, Sweetheart." Patting his lap for you to climb aboard. Which you do. You were bare underneath your skirt, just for this occasion. It made the process easier for Eddie. "Time to wake the neighborhood." 

The van creaked, protesting loudly as it rocked back and forth. Shifting weight from all the action in the driver's seat. "Eddie!! Ohhh fuck, fuck me harder!" Always the gentleman, he was happy to oblige. Pressing your back against the steering wheel so he could watch his cock disappear inside you. A creamy white coating already covered his happy trail. He latched his mouth onto your neck. All that unblemished skin, just begging to be marked and bruised. Sucked and bitten. "Yes! EDDIIEE!!" You cried out through the rolled-down windows. Waiting for the evidence of your plan's success. 

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Bingo. Jason's bedroom window opened with a harsh thud, almost ripped off its hinges. You didn't care enough to listen to his swearing. You were too busy rubbing circles over your clit. Eddie would have handled that for you, but his hand was busy flipping Jason the bird.

❤️‍🔥 - On the way to your house - speeding away from Jason's before you got busted for public indecency - you tossed your cardigan out of the window. "I don't want any of that shit anymore. I don't wanna be popular." Eddie shrugged off his jacket, a worn denim jacket that he almost never wore. It was what he used to test his skills on, putting a few band patches on it before he felt confident enough to put the 'favorite ones' on his vest. 

"Here. Keep it." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I want everyone to know you're my girl." ♡

♡ A/N: I hope you enjoyed my jumble of horny thoughts 🤣. I'm trying to get the next chapter of Sunshine's Sinners posted as soon as possible. Until then, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send me some asks 🥺

Masterlist, Ao3 ☆

[lycheepocketwitch]

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐚 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 - 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

pairing: cheerleader!wanda maxmoff x fem!reader

summary: there are two sides to every story, but wanda isn't so sure she'll ever get to tell her side of things.

warnings: none

word count: 5.7k

a/n: a chapter from wanda's pov! lol figured it could help redeem her a bit, but things are definitely not fixed yet. i can't believe this series is almost over. gah, my first wanda x reader fic. thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me!

series masterlist | main masterlist | also on ao3

Wanda fucked up to an astronomical level.

In hindsight, she should’ve known this was how things would go, what with her track record and her reluctance to be with you out in the open. It was just too good to be true that you forgave her when you didn’t even really know why she was asking for your forgiveness anyways. You were too forgiving and she was too selfish to deny herself the pleasure to finally know what you tasted like. Now, your heart had been shattered in pieces and it was all her fault.

“I love you,” Wanda whispered into her phone after hearing the end tone ringing in her ear, tears she had fought so hard to keep at bay now falling freely down her cheeks.

Even though she struggled to not reach out to you in the hallways whenever she heard people talk about you, you were the one who had to endure the incessant gossiping. You were the one who had to be okay with her pretending like you meant nothing to her at school. You were the one who had to watch her leave on your date right after you’d uttered “I love you” to each other for the first time as a… couple?

Had you been a couple? Wanda liked to think so. You never put a label on it, but in her mind, she had been yours ever since you agreed to paint with her in her little nook of the living room. She had been yours and you hers, but she had thrown it all away.

Had you been a couple? Wanda liked to think so. You never put a label on it, but in her mind, she had been yours ever since you agreed to paint with her in her little nook of the living room. She had been yours and you hers, but she had thrown it all away.

And for what? Popularity? To be accepted by the cheerleaders? To be liked by her peers? She had all of those yet had never felt worse than after you had ended things with her over the phone. Though, as much as Wanda told herself that you two were in a relationship, that wasn’t entirely true. She wasn’t really yours and you certainly weren’t hers. Perhaps, had she been a bit braver, she wouldn’t be in this predicament.

─── ᗢ ───── 💔 ───── ᗢ ───

Summer, freshman year.

“I’m just saying, I think it’s suspicious that she and Carol are in California at exactly the same time,” said Gamora.

“You realize that California is a huge state right?” Nakia prompted.

“Usually, I’d call this a reach, but I do think Gamora is onto something,” Pepper retorted. “I saw on their stories that they both went to the same cafe a few days ago. They could definitely be a thing.”

The rest of the cheerleaders giggled as they continued to paint their nails. Wanda was the only one who wasn’t amused at hearing the girls gossip about your love life. She originally thought that being invited to Pepper’s initiation sleepover would be fun, but she was starting to question how valid she was. Wanda kept her eyes glued on her own nails, only looking up when Pepper asked, “Actually, Maximoff, she’s your friend right? So, what’s the tea?”

“I uh… I’m not sure. I haven’t really talked to her in a while,” Wanda said, which wasn’t totally a lie. Since you were busy visiting family, she hadn’t gotten the chance to have a proper conversation with you. However, she was 99% sure that you were not dating Carol Danvers. She doubted you even saw Carol because you would’ve told her if you had.

“Uh oh, are you going through a falling out phase?” Laura asked.

“Wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Pepper said before Wanda got the chance to deny it. “I don’t even get why you’re friends with her. You two seem so different. Just like her and Carol. I bet you that they won’t last to the beginning of the school year.”

“And what if they do?” Sharon asked, barely paying attention to the conversation as she blew on her nails to get them to dry faster.

“Then, Danvers might as well say goodbye to her reputation. She’s the captain of the basketball team. She can’t be seen dating a nobody,” Pepper explained, only directing a half-sincere, “no offence, Maximoff,” and went back to her nails.

Hearing Pepper speak about you in such a horrible manner ignited a fire in her. She had never felt such rage before and all she wanted to do was scream at the head cheerleader and tell her how wrong she was, how she didn’t know anything about you, that you had one of the kindest souls and that Pepper would probably never even get close to how good of a person you were. Her face must’ve expressed everything she felt on the inside because she noticed Laura subtly shake her head with her eyes wide.

Wanda had just gotten accepted in the team. If she wanted to stay, she would have to play by Pepper’s rules, and it became clear to her that one of them was to stay as far away from you as possible.

─── ᗢ ───── 💔 ───── ᗢ ───

It was stupid of her to think that she’d be happier by doing anything to please Pepper. Sure, she genuinely enjoyed spending time with the cheerleaders (most days), but getting along with the cheerleaders cost her your friendship, which was something she was likely never getting back. Wanda would be lucky if you even spared her a glance after what she pulled Friday night.

“Are you finally going to tell me why you asked me to drive you to school instead of having the girls pick you up? Or are we just going to continue to sit in silence and pretend I can’t tell you’ve been sniffling and wiping your tears away for the past 15 minutes?” Pietro probed as he pulled onto the highway.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Wanda mumbled, keeping her gaze fixed on the other cars passing by next to them.

Pietro only complied with her request for a solid 10 seconds. “Is this about Barnes? If he did something to you, I won’t hesitate to punch him in the face.”

Wanda felt her heart skip a beat at the mention of Bucky’s name, and not in a good way. How did Pietro know Bucky indirectly had to do with her current state? It was impossible you would’ve told him. There was no reason you would reach out to Pietro; when your friendship with Wanda ended, so did you friendship with her brother. Had someone from school seen them without Wanda knowing? If they had, how much had they seen? Had they seen you with her too?

“One, Bucky didn’t do anything. Two, you’re not punching anyone in the face,” Wanda said, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“What happened with Bucky?”

“Nothing,” Wanda reiterated, gritting her teeth. “How did you even hear about that?”

“Clint told me that Rogers told him that Barnes told him he was sad you rejected his offer to go hang out at his house Friday.”

“Didn’t know you were into gossip,” Wanda snorted.

“I’m not,” Pietro affirmed. “I just care about you.”

“I already said nothing happened.”

“Fine, then what’s got you all moody?”

“Like I said, I don’t want to talk about it,” she groaned, pulling her letterman jacket closer around her body.

“You’ve spent the whole weekend moping, and I didn’t see you this sad when you broke up with Vision. Hell, I don’t think I’ve seen you like this since freshman year when… you-know-what happened. So, no, I’m not dropping it,” Pietro said, leaving no room for discussion. He sure loved playing the protective older brother despite barely counting as Wanda’s older brother. Wanda sighed with her eyes closed as she softly hit her head back against the headrest. “Come on, Si,” Pietro tried more gently this time. Wanda hadn’t heard him call her that in so long, she couldn’t help breaking into a fond smile, recalling just a few years ago when the three of you last dressed up in your outgrowned Alvin & the Chipmunks costumes.

“You don’t have to talk about her like she’s Voldemort.”

The track athlete scoffed, “You’re the reason we have to walk on eggshells when we talk about her.” That earned him an incredulous look from his sister. “What? It’s true! You told me we shouldn’t be friends with her anymore.”

“I never said that!” Wanda disputed, outraged by such an accusation.

“Yes, you did. Remember that sleepover you had at Pepper’s house? When you came back, you were all panicky and shit and told me that Pepper said if we stayed friends with her, we wouldn’t fit in with the jocks and the cheerleaders.”

“Exactly. I never told you to stop being friends with her.”

“Oh, please, Wanda! It was insinuated,” Pietro jeered only for Wanda to roll her eyes at him.

“You still chose to stay away from her. You wanted the track team to like you just as much as I wanted the cheerleaders to like me. So, you don’t get to blame me because at the end of the day, you made that decision by yourself,” said Wanda, her arms crossing defensively across her chest. “Just like how I made that dumb decision myself.”

For a moment, neither twin said anything, letting Wanda’s words settle in. “So, this is about T,” Pietro said. Was this really how she was going to tell him about everything that had gone down between the two of you? “Please, Wands, talk to me?” he murmured with his thick brows knitted together and his eyes round, full of concern. Wanda briefly wondered if this is what she looked like when she pulled her puppy eyes.

“It’s… about a lot of things, Piet. We’re gonna be at school soon,” she said, trying to reason her way out of this conversation.

“We still have about 20 minutes.”

“Exactly,” she sighed, letting her rest against the window.

Thankfully, Pietro didn’t push further, but she knew she could only delay this discussion until at the latest the end of the day when she came back home from practice. She just hoped she could go through her day without any issues until she’d have to face her brother.

─── ᗢ ───── 💔 ───── ᗢ ───

One thing Wanda used to relish was the fact that both of you had chosen the art & humanities stream, and that meant that she got to see you more often. Now, she was starting to see this as some sort of punishment. She’d spent more than half of the day just a few desks away from you, her eyes constantly drifting back to you, feeling as if she was stuck in your magnetic field and she had no way out (not that she wanted to anyway). No matter how many times she’d hoped you would look back, you kept your focus onto whatever the teacher was saying.

All day, she searched for an opportunity to talk to you in private, away from prying eyes, but Yelena had been by your side the entire time, sending Wanda death glares whenever she caught her staring at you. Though even if she had found a way to bypass Yelena, what was that going to do? She didn’t even know what she wanted to say other than apologize. And she was pretty sure her apologies meant nothing to you right now, justifiably so. If she wanted to get you back, even just as a friend, she needed to change, she knew that. For now, all she would get was the silent treatment.

Really, it wasn’t all that different from how things used to be. However, knowing that this wasn’t just an act and that she wouldn’t get to kiss you silly after school made things infinitely worse. The fact that this was all her doing didn’t help.

Although she had complained about having extra practices last week, she was now grateful that practice would help her mind off things. Taking advantage of the rare warm days they still had in October, the cheer squad had decided to have practice outside. Wanda had just put down her dufflebag beside one of the benches when she caught sight of her brother with… you? Your back was to her, but she recognized your signature yellow backpack. Pietro had to be talking to you.

Wanda quickly fished out her phone and dialed Pietro’s number. She watched from afar with her jaw clenched as he excused himself and took a few steps away from you. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed the moment he picked up.

“Why, hello to you too. I’m doing okay, you?”

“Stop playing, why are you talking to her?”

She heard him sigh on the other end of the line. “Do you have some sort of spy following me?”

“I don’t need one when you’re not even bothering to hide,” Wanda scoffed. At the same time, Pietro finally found her standing near the edge of the football field with an annoyed expression on her face. “Look, I’ll tell you what happened, just stay out of it, okay?”

“Fine,” he relented, not without rolling his eyes. “Just so you know, I was just apologizing for being a dick and a bad friend. I wasn’t prying.” Wanda simply hummed in response. “Do you want me to come pick you up after practice? We could go to the diner like we used to?” Pietro suggested.

She remembered you weren’t working today. “Sounds good,” she said before hanging up. Wanda only got the chance to see you briefly say goodbye to Pietro and then Coach Fontaine was calling all the girls to the center so they could start practice. Pepper grinned at the girls and usually, Wanda would match her enthusiasm, but while listening to the head cheerleader talk about what adjustments they needed to do for tomorrow’s pep rally, all she felt was dread.

─── ᗢ ───── 💔 ───── ᗢ ───

The strawberry milkshake sitting in front of her was nearly left untouched while Pietro’s glass only had about half of his chocolate milkshake left. “But yeah, I think I have a really good chance at catching the scouts’ eye next track meet,” Pietro said, beaming.

“That’s great, Piet,” Wanda said. She was so proud of how well her brother was going, but she had a hard time returning a genuine smile when all she could think about was you.

“Okay, let’s get to talking about what this is really about,” Pietro suggested, dipping another one of his fries into his milkshake and shoving into his mouth, earning a grimace from his sister. “You should stop judging me and try dipping your fries someday. I swear you’ll become a changed woman the moment you do.”

“Maybe another day,” she said before finally taking a sip from her drink. “What do you want to know?”

“Is Barnes really not the reason you’ve been upset?” he asked, seemingly still skeptical about that fact.

“Not really, no,” Wanda replied, somewhat cryptically. Seeing the confused look Pietro gave her, she sighed and took in a deep breath before she added, “It’s because he walked in on my date. And I may or may not have left with him.”

“You went on a date with Vision again? I thought–”

“Not with Vision,” Wanda clarified without saying anything else, and waited for him to try and piece things together, which shockingly didn’t take that long.

“Holy shit, don’t tell me the rumors are true,” Pietro said, lowering his voice as he leaned forward against the table.

“You know, I’m finding it really hard to believe that you’re not into gossip,” Wanda retorted, ignoring the way she was certain her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

“So, were you the one who got the guts to tell her you’ve been in love with her this whole time or was it T who finally confessed?” he inquired, totally engrossed in his sister’s love affair. “And when are you going to bring her back home for a proper ‘meet the parents’ supper? I mean, we all already know each other, but since you’re dating now–”

“We’re not dating,” she said, unable to hide the hurt in her voice. “We weren’t even really truly dating. We were seeing each other in secret, but we probably won’t ever get together after I walked out on her Friday night to go with Bucky instead.” Pietro sat back against the booth, letting Wanda’s revelation sink in. On the other side of the table, Wanda just pushed her milkshake around with her straw as she avoided her brother’s stare until she realized what he had said earlier. “Wait, what do you mean I’ve been in love with her this whole time?”

“Wanda, come on, it’s been pretty obvious. Maybe not when we were younger because I didn’t really get what being in love looks like, but there’s always been signs you had feelings for each other,” Pietro said with a gentle smile that was probably to reassure Wanda, but it did nothing to help the panic that started to bubble inside.

“Is it really that obvious? Can everyone tell? You think Pepper knows?” Wanda asked, eyes wide, borderline frantic.

“Woah, slow down! There’s no need to freak out,” Pietro said, rushing out of the booth to go to his sister’s side. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the crown of her head to try to calm her down. “Look, I can’t guarantee to you that Pepper or the other cheerleaders don’t know. Maybe they do, maybe they don’t, but why does it matter?”

“Because they could want to kick me out for associating with someone they don’t see as good enough for them.”

“I don’t think Pepper has that kind of power,” Pietro chuckled.

“Pepper wanted to get Thena off the team because she didn’t like that she talked back to her so much. Thena said Coach ‘coincidentally’ caught her picking Kingo up after school once the same day he usually buys weed from Scott. The only reason she didn’t get kicked off the team was because Coach didn’t want to lose one of her best cheerleaders. So now, she has to help set up every practice and stay behind to put stuff away,” Wanda explained, recalling the older girl’s usually stoic face, but then full of disdain for Pepper the moment she realized how her punishment came to be.

“And you’re sure that’s the type of person you want to be friends with?” he asked, evidently apprehensive over the fact that his sister hung out with people who enabled this type of behaviour.

“I… I don’t know…” Wanda admitted, a bit defeated.

Being a cheerleader was always something she secretly wanted to be since she was a child. The Bring It On movies, although filled with drama, were also about team spirit and there was nothing younger Wanda wanted more than to feel like she belonged with a group of people. It wasn’t to say that she didn’t feel like she didn’t have that with you and Pietro. She just yearned for more than your small trio. Not to mention, acrobatics were seriously impressive to Wanda.

After watching the first movie of the series, Wanda started watching tutorials on Youtube to learn how to do certain tumbling moves. Whenever you two parted ways after hanging out together all day, Wanda would spend the rest of her days practicing her splits, somersaults and cartwheels. Though, she was pretty limited in the development of her skills given that she didn’t have access to a gym floor. This was the reason she had convinced Pietro to have their birthday party at the sports complex for about four years in a row during the period of time they still held one birthday party for the both of them. (“We can play in the soccer field or the gymnasium. We can even do some races in the trackfield. It’s perfect!” she had told him.)

You had asked her why she loved holding her birthday at the sports complex so much. For some reason she had lied and said that it was because she liked to jump into the foam pit and the trampoline. It wasn’t even a big lie. You probably didn’t even remember it based on how easily you accepted her answer and went back to jumping on the trampoline. However, Wanda’s guilt gnawed at her for the next couple of months until she revealed (more like Pietro had revealed) that she wanted to become a cheerleader.

Part of her reasoned she didn’t want to share this particular wish of hers with you was because one time, Pietro made fun of her after catching her mimicking facial expressions from a Bring It On: In It to Win It scene. But, it didn’t really make that much sense; you would never judge her for any of her dreams. You supported her through everything. Yet, she pushed you aside the moment she got a taste of one of her childhood dreams coming true.

She had been so determined to get on the team, she never stopped to allow herself to reflect on what exactly she did to get to her position. If you ending things with her wasn’t a wake-up call, this talk with Pietro certainly was.

“I want to be a cheerleader though,” Wanda said after a moment. “I like being able to perform a stunt, working towards finishing a routine and being part of a team.”

“You could still be a cheerleader,” he offered, his lips curling up into a sympathetic smile. “There’s nothing stopping you from joining a club outside of school.”

“What if I’m not good enough? I’m pretty sure I only got in the team at school because of Thena,” the younger twin mumbled while twirling her straw around her milkshake.

“You don’t really believe that, do you? Si, I mean this in the least biased way possible, you are one of the best on the team,” he affirmed. “I can’t even count the number of times you’ve texted to let me know that you were staying at school a little longer to work on perfecting a move. Even at home, you constantly think about how you can improve your skills. You’re a great cheerleader. You care about your teammates, you’re punctual, you’re dedicated. Maybe you’re right that you won’t make it into a club your first try, but if that’s the case, you try again another time. Or for another club.”

Pietro ended his little speech with a soft bump against her shoulder, a teasing half-smile spreading as Wanda’s gloomy mood started to fade. “You really do enjoy being the older twin, don’t you?”

“She finally recognizes I’m her big brother, everyone!” Pietro shouted into the nearly empty diner while prepared to stand up only to be quickly pulled back down.

“Stop being an idiot,” Wanda scolded, but couldn’t fight a grin from breaking out.

With Pietro’s subsiding cackles, Wanda found herself reminiscing about the last time she’d felt this at ease. Wanda being a cheerleader and Pietro being on the track team meant that they rarely got the chance to hang out the same they used to as kids. Add onto that the fact that you were no longer in their lives, it had been at least two years since she’d felt this happy. She missed her brother. She missed you.

Here she was calling Pietro an idiot when the idiot was her. She needed to salvage was left of her relationship with you. She was going to fix things. You probably wouldn’t want to hear anything from her, which was understandable, but godamnit, she was going to try.

“You wanna tell me more about how great of a person I am?” Wanda teased as the twins made their way out into the diner’s parking lot as the sun set.

“I knew I would regret it,” Pietro groaned, squeezing his eyes closed right before blindly shoving his sister away from him. He obviously missed his target, only getting a hearty laugh from Wanda dodging his palm.

─── ᗢ ───── 💔 ───── ᗢ ───

The crowd cheering in the bleachers helped Wanda keep her bright smile as she maintained her body in the “scale” position with her right arm fully extended at a 45 degree upwards while her left arm held onto her left leg, extended to mimic the same angle as her right arm. Whether it was on purpose or not, you were sat near the middle of the bleachers, which meant Wanda’s gaze often landed on you throughout the whole routine. She thought she’d caught the corners of your lips twitching upwards a few times, her heart immediately fluttering at the sight, but other than that, you gave no indication of enjoying the pep rally.

As the routine came to an end, Wanda and the rest of the flyers dismounted with the help of the bases and the spotters until the whole team was on the ground and bowed, hand in hand. Pepper remained in front and received the mic from Coach to give some encouraging words to her fellow classmates while the rest of the team went to roll the gym mat back up.

The girls had practice afterwards, but if Wanda hurried, she would still get a solid 10 minutes between the end of Pepper’s speech and the start of practice to talk to you, if she managed to pull you aside among the crowd of students, that is. Wanda impatiently bounced her leg while she waited for the bell to ring to signal the end of the day, her eyes constantly shifting from the scoreboard displaying the time and your group of friends looking entirely disinterested in whatever Pepper was saying.

“Hey Wanda,” a low voice startled her out of her trance.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Wanda responded quietly, acknowledging Bucky with a small smile.

“Think we could talk for a few minutes?” he asked, seemingly nervous. Sensing that Wanda was about to protest, he added, “I already checked in with Pepper. She won’t mind if you skip the last part of her speech.”

That wasn’t at all why Wanda was going to object, but she figured if Bucky had talked to Pepper about this, it was probably about something the football team wanted to plan with the cheerleaders. She took one last glance your way only to find you already watching her, but you had no trouble diverging your attention back to Makkari when the other girl pulled at your shirt to tell you something.

“What’s up?” Wanda asked once they stood by the edge of the bleachers, in the middle of the corridor leading to the exit of the gym.

“Actually, I was hoping we could talk in a more private area,” Bucky suggested with a nod in the direction of the exit. “It’s really important.”

Wanda reluctantly agreed to leave, making a mental note that she had about 5 minutes was left until the bell rang. She was so lost in her thoughts about how she would get you to talk to her and what she would tell you that she completely missed the empty areas in the bleachers where many of the football players sat. She barely got the chance to ask what Bucky wanted to talk about when she jumped back at the sound of several party horns being blown her way. She froze and shut her eyes as some confetti streamers fell on her.

When she finally opened her eyes, Bucky now stood in front of her, sandwiched between a grinning Steve and an impassive Sam. The three of them each held a square piece of cardboard with “HO CO ?” painted on them.

“So?” Bucky asked with a hopeful smile when he saw that Wanda just stared back at the trio with her mouth hanging slightly open.

Right as she was about to let the boy down gently, a slam of the door was heard from behind. Turning around, Wanda was met with the sight of her ex-boyfriend, red in the face, a sight she had never gotten since today. Tony quickly followed behind, but did nothing to hold his younger brother back as he marched towards Bucky and attempted to shove him. “Attempt” since he never even got his hands on the football player as Sam pulled Bucky out of the way while Steve put himself in front of Vision.

“Woah, I’d suggest you take a few steps back, there,” Steve warned putting one hand in front of him while the other was held towards his best friend, poster completely abandoned on the floor.

“Is he the reason why you broke up with me?” Vision directed his anger at Wanda now, completely ignoring the football players. “I thought it was–Was it Barnes you cheated on me with? What does he have that I can’t offer you?”

“A personality,” Bucky responded with a shrug and he had the decency to look embarrassed when Wanda shot him a glare at the same time that Sam rolled his eyes while he snorted.

“Vis, stop!” Wanda yelled as she tried to put herself in front of Steve.

“Oh come on, Wanda, aren’t you into meatheads who like to brawl it out?” Tony sneered from behind Vision, leaning against with his arms crossed against his chest.

“Is that the twisted lies you’ve been feeding your brother?” Wanda accused, her voice laced with contempt. She sighed, exasperated at the indifferent shrug Tony gave her. Her frown remained, but her hardened gaze was dropped as she returned her focus to her ex. “Vis, I already told you I didn’t cheat on you. We just didn’t work out anymore. I didn’t… I don’t love you.”

She knew those were harsh words to hear, but it was either this or she would have to go into the nitty gritty of her complicated relationship with you, which she didn’t have the time and energy to do, nor did she want to anyways because her words would surely get twisted and people would say that this was evidence Wanda had cheated on him with you. It would only drag your name through the mud and Wanda didn’t want to cause you more trouble than she already had.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I never meant to hurt you.” She didn’t, but she knew the damage was done. Vision had been nice and she’d convinced herself that she could develop feelings more him when Pepper introduced him to her. He was nice, but “nice” didn’t matter when you were the sun and she was a planet that gravitated around you. Without you, she felt disoriented, lost, like there was no more meaning to her life.

“Fuck you, Wanda,” Vision spat, inches from Wanda’s face, making her flinch in the process. Just as the younger Stark brother backed away, the bell rang and everyone started pouring out of the gymnasium to leave school.

Wanda shifted awkwardly as she felt judgemental stares directed at all of them. It wasn’t until she felt a hand on her shoulder, making her flinch again, that she remembered she had planned to find you. Bucky smiled at her apologetically, but Wanda shook her head and rushed back inside the gym, fighting against the sea of students in search for your face in hopes she still had her chance to get you alone.

When she finally made it back inside, she frantically looked around the slowly emptying bleachers with no luck. How could she have missed you? She was sure she would’ve caught you. Where were you?

“So, who’d you pick?” Pepper asked. Wanda’s head snapped to the older girl, confusion painting her face. “For homecoming. Did you choose Bucky or Vision?”

“You knew?” Wanda dumbly asked. Of course she knew, Bucky mentioned having talked to Pepper earlier.

“Listen, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but it would be a little weird if the homecoming queen’s date wasn’t the homecoming king. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened or the end of the world, but you know, it would be really cute if you two did go as each other’s dates. And I know you broke up, but I’m sure that’s just a little hiccup in your relationship and…”

The whole time Pepper talked, all Wanda could do was stare. “What are you talking about?” she asked, not caring that Pepper was still in the middle of her sentence. “You’ve been campaigning for homecoming queen.”

Wanda didn’t really have any interest in becoming homecoming queen. There was no way her name was on the ballot. Pepper, though, had posters of her face in every single hallways on campus. She also took charge of Tony’s campaign for homecoming king and everywhere you turned, you saw their faces staring right at you. The titles wouldn’t be revealed until the night of the dance, but everyone already knew Pepper and Tony would win like they had last year. If they didn’t, she would make sure to find who didn’t vote for her and make their lives miserable.

“It’s my name on the poster, but everyone voting for me and Tony are going to vote for you and Vis. I’m only really focused on winning prom queen this year since I already won the last two years. Plus, it’d be a good start to get you more at the forefront of things, you know? Since you’re gonna become me successor for cheer cap,” Pepper explained like this was something Wanda was already privy too.

“I… I’m not running for captain though.”

“Not yet, but I’ve already put in a word with Coach! I also talked to the rest of the girls and I think you’ve got a good chance of getting the title.”

“I don’t know what to say…” Wanda admitted as she tried to digest the overload of information she’d just received.

“Well, a thank you would be nice,” she said with a wink. “Seriously though, you didn’t really think I’d recommend anyone other than you to take my place, right? You’re my girl, Maximoff. Always loyal since day one. Now, come on, let’s get ready for practice.”

Wanda tried to return Pepper’s grin, but all she could think about was that this complicated everything.

<< prev || next >>

[shadowmaat]

Getting Closer

23: Once you meet your soulmate, it becomes physically uncomfortable to be away from them for long. From this prompt list. Codywan

At first Obi-Wan attributed his exhaustion and headaches to the stress of suddenly being thrust into a war, but no amount of sleep, proper meals, exercise, or meditation seemed to help. If anything, his symptoms seemed to get worse. There were times his vision blurred or his nausea got bad enough he wound up curled in a ball in the ‘fresher.

The healers couldn’t find anything wrong with him and they, too, suggested it might be stress-related, but whatever the cause was, Obi-Wan was getting sick of being sick.

“Maybe you met your soulmate and didn’t realize it.” Anakin was grinning when he said it, but there was a worried light in his eyes. 

Obi-Wan huffed in annoyance. “Don’t be ridiculous, Anakin. Even if the odds weren’t astronomically against that sort of thing, where, exactly, do you suppose I might have run into them? On Geonosis?”

“It could have been one of the droids. Or the bugs!”

“That’s racist and I’ve taught you better than that.” Obi-Wan leaned against a wall to catch his breath and wait for everything to stop spinning. They were supposed to be on their way to the clone barracks for some meeting of Anakin’s.

“Anyway, I’m quite certain my soulmate is not a Geonosian and droids do not have souls.” It did get him thinking about it, though, much to his irritation. Where else had he been, though? He’d gone to Geonosis straight from Kamino and then... 

A troubling thought occurred to him. But he’d been following Jango Fett, not moving away from him, and any discomfort should have ended when Mace killed him.

“Come on, Master Mine, let’s not keep Rex and the others waiting.”

“I hardly see why I need to be here for this,” Obi-Wan said, taking the proffered arm. “If Master Che and her team can’t figure out what’s wrong with me I may not even be allowed to fight.”

“You can always advise me.” Anakin grinned.

“I’ve been trying to get you to listen for ten years without any luck,” Obi-Wan said. “I doubt you’ll start now.”

It made Anakin laugh and that made him feel a little better. He perked up a bit as they approached the barracks. He even released Anakin’s arm and stretched a bit as they approached the guards on duty. 

As soon as they entered the barracks proper Obi-Wan felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He stopped dead in the hall as realization sank in.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin turned to look at him. “Are you okay? Do you need to rest again?”

“I’m fine, Anakin,” he said, which was true... for a certain value of the word.

“Okay, well, Rex is in room 31-Besh, and I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”

“Yes, of course.” He smiled, ignoring the speculative look he got in response. “Lead on, Padawan.”

They hadn’t gone far before they ran into a pair of clones. One had the medical symbol stenciled on his pauldron and a tattoo of a bacta patch on his neck. He was haranguing his companion, whose expression was one of grim determination.

“Just because you’re feeling better now doesn’t mean it’s going to stay that way, Commander,” the medic warned. 

“I appreciate the concern, Patch, but I’ve been out of commission for too long already. I need to get back to-” 

The clone commander froze in place as he caught sight of Obi-Wan. Which was fine, since Obi-Wan’s feet felt glued to the floor. They stared at each other.

“Oh! Generals, sirs!” The medic- Patch- saluted. “Sorry for the interruption!”

“That’s alright,” Anakin said, relaxed as ever. “Is everything alright?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Patch moved to stand in front of the Commander. “We were just, uh, returning to the barracks!”

“Alright then, carry on.” Anakin gave them a dismissive wave and continued on his way.

Obi-Wan didn’t follow. His heart was hammering in his chest and his palms had gone sweaty. Somehow, he managed to wet his lips and speak.

“Hello there.” His voice sounded loud to his own ears. Was it too loud? He smiled, unable to look away from the Commander. “I’m Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. And you are...?”

“He’s fine, General, sir,” Patch said, now standing directly between them and breaking their eye contact. “Just needs some sleep and he’ll be ready to perform all his duties! Sir.” 

Fear wafted off him, brushing against Obi-Wan’s shields. He frowned.

“Master?” 

Anakin was a bright ball of confusion just at his periphery.

Pushing past Patch, the Commander held out his hand. “Commander CC-2224.” His smile was hesitant, but it warmed Obi-Wan to his core. “My friends call me Cody.”

“Cody.” Obi-Wan repeated, loving the sound of it. He reached out, grasping Cody’s forearm, Mando-style. “It’s very nice to meet you, Cody,” he said, unable to stop his smile.

“Wait,” Anakin said, somewhere far away. “Him??”

“Is there somewhere we can go to talk?” He tilted his head. “I have a feeling there’s a lot we need to discuss.”

“I...” Cody’s expression wavered for a moment. “Yes, sir. I think that might be a good idea.”

Anakin had drawn Patch off to the side and the two were having an intense whispered conversation. 

Obi-Wan realized he was still holding Cody’s arm and released it, feeling heat rise in his face. “Please, call me Obi-Wan.” He gestured at the hall. “I trust you to lead the way... Cody.”

This was going to complicate things immeasurably, but if it led to both of them being happy then maybe it was worth it. 

[bardock1991]

Not to mention how much of an idiot he is, as well as a huge hypocrite.

Ironwood: *Talks about Ozpin keeping secrets*

ALSO Ironwood: *Keeps Penny's identity as an android & whatever plans he had in store for her at Beacon a secret, EVEN TO HIS "ALLIES"*

Actually, let's talk about Penny for a second. You fund a project where the people behind it create an Android... With a SOUL... Not ONLY that, you manage to make a machine that can CAPTURE someone's soul & put it in someone else. (I don't know how the fuck THAT works, TBH. He says Atlas has been studying Aura from a science standpoint, but ya can't exactly use science with a SOUL, so i don't know how they pulled it off.)

& It WORKS. The Penny Project is a success. You essentially created the closest thing to an artificial human you can make... & You don't tell Ozpin, Glynda or Qrow about it... Despite how much of a MASSIVE deal that is when you think about it... For pretty much no reason... No, seriously. WHY did he do this? What did he had to gain from this?!

& Like i said earlier, he's just so STUPID! What kind of reasonable & intelligent human being would go "I'm gonna bring an army of EASILY stealable & hackable robots to a foreign nation... Oh, what's that? My army got hijacked?... Uh... It's OZPIN’S fault! He's the one who didn't listen to me from the start!" & Later on with the Amity Plan, nobody brings up the fact that Amity CAN'T go higher than Remnant’s atmosphere, which it NEEDS to be in order for the Grimm (minus Salem cause she's Hax) to not reach it... Why? Cause Dust CAN'T work outside of Remnant’s atmosphere. Sure, he could've used the staff, but that'd mean putting Atlas in danger & because James is an idiot, of course he's not gonna do that.

On that note. Getting into Atlas is not that hard. Like- AT ALL! If you made it to Mantle, you essentially made it to Atlas. It's just a matter of WHEN you get up there. Watts, Tyrian, Cinder & Neo were EASILY able to get into Mantle & by extension Atlas without ANY issue... But because Ironwood is again, an IDIOT, he's never gonna think "Maybe i should improve the defenses of Mantle, so less outsiders can get there with ease". That's never gonna happen, nor will he fix that giant fucking hole in the walls that are fucking over Mantle.

Which by the fucking way, is the only reason Atlas can even EXIST! No Mantle = No easy way to farm up Dust & other materials. No Dust & Materials = No stuff for Atlas to "strengthen" their forces. (Which they do a shit job at, BTW, The Atlesian Army is ASTRONOMICALLY bad), which ALSO means no Atlas... So apart from being a paranoid, hypocritical bastard who just makes things worse from everybody, he’s as unreliably stupid as DBS Goku on the Zamas Arc from Dragon Ball Super... So yeah, no wonder Ruby decided NOT to tell him the full truth. He would've made Atlas fall faster than the 2 meteors Madara summoned.

So, I’ve noticed a common topic among my fellow RWDEsters is RWBY lying to Ironwood. I wish to make a post about that, but before I do that, I’d first like to wrap my head around why she did that in the first place. Anyone willing to help a brother out?

[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 1) Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen: Inaccurate Timing

            After they finished their individual investigations, Sherlock, John, and (Y/N) met up back at 221B to compare clues and discoveries. Hopefully, together they could pull the mystery of the fake Vermeer apart and unveil the perpetrator.

            “What have you got?” asked Sherlock.

            “Alex Woodbridge didn’t know anything about art,” said John.

            “And?” prompted (Y/N).

            “And…” John trailed off.

            “No habits or hobbies?” they asked.

            “Uh, he was an amateur astronomer,” offered John.

            (Y/N) hummed.

            “Fortunately, we haven’t been idle,” said Sherlock, pulling out a slip of paper he had collected from a woman in his network after their trip to the Gallery. The note read “Vauxhall Arches.” “Let’s go,” he said, walking out of 221B to catch a cab.

            They walked into the arches as lights shone around them, brilliantly colorful in growing darkness. They shone their flashlights around into the shadowy corner, but nothing seemed out of place.

            “Listen, Alex Woodbridge had a message on the answer phone of his flat from a Professor Cairns,” said John as they moved through the archways.

            “This way,” said Sherlock, ignoring him and continuing on. He made sure he was in front of (Y/N), though, in case anyone appeared.

            “Nice part of town,” muttered John, looking around. “Er, anytime you want to explain how you knew to come here.”

            “Homeless network, indispensable,” said Sherlock.

            “Homeless network?” asked John.

            “His eyes and ears all over the city,” said (Y/N).

            “Oh,” said John, nodding.

            “Sherlock!” whispered (Y/N) in alarm as they spied a looming shadow of a gigantic man in the corner.

            Sherlock pulled (Y/N) to his side as they continued closer to the man.

            “What’s he doing sleeping rough?” whispered John.

            “Well, he has a very distinctive look. He has to hide somewhere where tongues don’t wag—much,” said Sherlock, peering around carefully.

            John pulled his gun out and readied himself to shoot anyone who attacked (And with an assassin around, there was definitely a risk of something). The Golem, however, broke into a run and turned a corner. Sherlock ran after him, but it was too late. A waiting car picked the assassin up and screeched out of the arches.

            “No, no, no!” Sherlock ran his fingers through his hair. “It’ll take us weeks to find him again!”

            “We only have a few hours,” murmured (Y/N) worriedly.

            “I have an idea of where he might be going,” said John hurriedly.

            “Where?!” asked Sherlock and (Y/N) in tandem.

            “I told you: someone left Alex Woodbridge a message. There can’t be that many Professor Cairns in the book,” said John.

            “No time to waste, then,” said (Y/N).

l

            At the Planetarium, where Professor Cairn worked, the trio rushed in even as darkness descended. Time was running down quickly, and they pushed into the auditorium where, in the center of the rows of seats on the raised stage, Golem held Professor Cairn’s struggling form in the air as he strangled her.

            “Golem!” cried Sherlock.

            Seeing them, Golem snapped Professor Cairn’s neck and disappeared into the seats as the lights turned off and the footage of galaxies and star systems began to play above them, casting grotesque shadows across the floor.

            “(Y/N)!” shouted Sherlock, reaching out for them in the sudden blackness. He couldn’t risk them by themself at a time like this, not when they could get hurt…or worse.

            “I’ll go round!” said John, keeping a firm hand on his gun as he ran into the seats to circle around the stage and find Golem.

            Sherlock, ignoring the need to find Golem, looked around and quickly moved towards (Y/N) as soon as his eyes adjusted. At the same time, Golem appeared out of the shadows and grabbed (Y/N), who yelped and twisted to get away. Sherlock surged forward and wrenched at Golem’s arms. John, hearing the commotion, ran back and lifted his gun threateningly.

            “Let them go or we kill you!” he announced gravely as Sherlock grabbed (Y/N) to pull them away.

(Y/N), for their part, had elbowed Golem several times in the face, but the man was literally the stuff of legends and wasn’t reacting to anything. In response to the threat, Golem tossed (Y/N) into Sherlock, knocking both down. As he fell, though, Sherlock arms wrapped tightly around (Y/N). Golem attacked John next, sending him flying one way with his gun skidding across the ground. After handling that threat, he turned back to Sherlock and (Y/N). Sherlock pushed (Y/N) away so that Golem first had to fight him. The assassin easily grabbed the detective by the throat and began strangling him.

            (Y/N) saw red and moved without thinking. Turning in Sherlock’s hug, they grabbed the gun, aimed, and fired all in an instant. The bullet flew into Golem’s shoulder, who let go of Sherlock and roared in pain. Like an animal realizing the risks of continuing a fight were not worth the injury, Golem fled the Planetarium.

            Frustrated at the lack of lead, Sherlock slammed his fist onto the ground before pulling himself to his feet. He rushed to (Y/N)’s side and helped them sit up. They winced as the blooming bruises on their sides and stomach felt the pressure.

            “Are you alright?” asked Sherlock, gazing at them carefully for any signs of serious injury.

            (Y/N) nodded. “Just bruised.” But their body shook from the adrenaline of the moment.

            Sherlock carefully lifted the gun from their trembling hands and put it to the side. Holding their hands in his own, he warmed them. The blood had flown to their extremities due to the adrenaline kicking in their fight-or-flight response. It also alleviated the shock (Y/N) was experiencing and grounded them.

            “Good,” he murmured, using his thumb to check their pulse as it slowed.

            (Y/N) nodded shortly, focusing on breathing and the sensation of his hands to keep themselves from spiraling into the realization they had shot someone with no hesitation. It scared them how easy it had been.

            “What are we going to do?” asked John, jogging over to them.

            Sherlock sighed in frustration but remained collected to not set off (Y/N) anymore. “I’m not sure. That was our lead to finding who’s behind Woodbridge and Cairn’s murders.” He stood and guided (Y/N) to their feet. “But we knowwhythey were killed.”

            “So, you solved it?” questioned John.

            Sherlock nodded. “We figured out the twist: the Vermeer’s a fake.”

            “Then we need to go to the Gallery,” said (Y/N) quietly, but their eyes were fierce. They swallowed and clenched their fists to keep the trembles at bay. “We only have an hour.”

            “I’ll call Lestrade as we go,” said Sherlock, pulling out his phone.

            (Y/N) nodded as they made their way out. Their hand drifted to the pink phone in their pocket.He still hasn’t called…A pit formed in their stomach. They felt they were walking into the belly of the beast.

l

            Mrs. Wenceslas, grumbling about the late hour, stood with Lestrade, John, and a few officers as (Y/N) and Sherlock gazed at the Vermeer. They had mere minutes, and even though they knew the twist of this murder, there had been no call from Moriarty.

            “It’s a fake. It has to me,” muttered Sherlock.

            “The painting has been subjected to every test known to science,” defended Wenceslas.

            “It’s a good fake,” retorted (Y/N). They glanced at Wenceslas, their gaze calculating. “Were you behind it?” Wenceslas blanched. “Oh. Makes sense. You had the most to gain.” Their attention turned back to the painting.

            “Inspector, my time is being wasted,” said Wenceslas imperiously. “Would you mind showing yourself and your friends out?”

            As she spoke, the pink phone rang, and (Y/N) answered immediately. On speaker, Sherlock said, “The painting is fake. It’s a fake. That’s why Woodbridge and Cairns were killed.” No response. “Oh, come on! Proving it’s just detail. We got the real twist.” Still nothing.

            “Just give us more time,” said (Y/N), speaking for the first time.

            Silence.

            And then… “Ten.”

            Achild’svoice rang out, and (Y/N) felt their stomach drop. Moriarty had taken a kid hostage. It was a pointed choice just for them. (Y/N) wasn’t an adult, and now a kid’s life was on the line to make it clear the consequences would be severe for anyone involved in this game, young or old. Their breathing quickened, and they spun to face the Vermeer.

            “It’s a kid!” exclaimed Lestrade in horror. “Oh, God, it’s a kid!”

            Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he realized to what lengths Moriarty was going to “test” (Y/N) for some reason. Intellectually, physically, nowmentally.He despised the manipulation. Sherlock was proud of how strong (Y/N) had been so far and how much they’d pushed through, but he disliked them eveninghavingto face all this trauma and terror.

            “Nine.”

            “Oh, god!” cried John.

            “How is it a fake? How? How?” muttered Sherlock to himself.

            “Eight.”

            Wenceslas, realizing a child’s live was on the line, opened her mouth to speak, but (Y/N) interrupted. “Shut up! It doesn’t work if you admit it!” They wouldn’t risk anything after the old woman’s death.

            “Seven.”

           What is it? What is it?They scanned the fake Vermeer, gazing at each brushstroke, each swirling galaxy and star painted in the sky.

            “Six.”

            “Come on!” urged John worriedly.

           Why did Woodbridge know? Why would a simple security guard know?!

            “Five.”

            “It’s speeding up!” warned Lestrade in horror.

            “Four.”

           And Professor Cairns, too! Connection, connection, come on!

            “Three.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened.Planetarium, professor, amateur astronomer, starry sky!In an instant, they had it.

            “Two.”

            “Van Buren Supernova!” shouted (Y/N). The countdown stopped, and every adult present let their tense body relax. “The Van Buren Supernova was an exploding star that appeared in 1858. It never could’ve been painted in the 1640s,” continued (Y/N) quickly in case the whole explanation was needed.

            “Can anyone come get me?” said the voice of the little boy.

            “Yes, yes, we’re coming,” murmured (Y/N) softly. “Just tell us where you are.”

l

            “I don’t know anything about those other deaths!” cried Wenceslas hysterically.

            At Scotland Yard, Lestrade, Sherlock, (Y/N), and John were interrogating her. So far, none of the other people who had been involved with Moriarty’s games really knew anything other than the fact they just sent out the money and their desires and everything was handled. They had heard about someone who could solve their problems through the grapevine.

            No one could confirm if it was just one person or many or how to really get in contact except through a long chain of people, not even a name was mentioned. Sherlock suspected Moriarty to be behind it just like the cabbie serial killer as some sort of consulting criminal, but he could not confirm it without more information. Wenceslas was their last hope. The game had reached its final pip. Who knew if it would even continue?

            “I just wanted my share—the thirty million,” said Wenceslas helplessly. “I found a little old man in Argentina. Genius. I mean, really—brushwork was immaculate, could fool anyone.” Sherlocks scoffed, and Wenceslas glared at him. “Well, nearly anyone. But I didn’t know how to go about convincing the world the picture was genuine. It was just an idea—a spark which he blew into a flame.”

            “Who?” questioned Sherlock sharply.

            “It’s true! I mean, it took a long time, but eventually I was put in touch with people…hispeople.” She shuddered at the mere mention. “Well, there was never any real contact, just messages…whispers.”

            Sherlock leaned towards her. “And did those whispers have a name?” Part of him wanted his theory to be proved correct, and another wished for him to be wrong, because if Moriarty was not just solving making the game but causing the crimes…he was a real danger to (Y/N).

            Wenceslas swallowed, afraid to even whisper the word. “Moriarty.”

            And while Sherlock’s intelligence was validated yet again, his heart clenched in worry at the look of panic on (Y/N)’s face at the confirmation of their fan being an underworld genius of crime. He could hurt (Y/N). And that worried Sherlock.

[themadlostgirl]

Game Night

*I hear you! I hear you! I come bearing some platonic fun of Peter, Felix, and Reader having a very violent game night on Neverland. Enjoy!*

~~~

“I WILL FUCKING END YOU!”

“COME AT ME YOU LANKY ASS PIECE OF SHIT!”

“I WILL PLUCK OUT YOUR EYES AND USE THEM AS FISH BAIT, LOST GIRL!”

“Felix, by god, just take the cards!” Peter snapped.

“I was down to three!” Felix fumed, “She shouldn’t be able to stack cards like that! It has to be against the rules or something!”

“My game! My rules!” You had tossed the rules pamphlet into the ocean just so no one could check. “Now shut up and take your cards!”

“Fucking bitch,” Felix muttered as he drew ten cards to his hand, “You were hoarding those for this moment, I know it.”

“How about you stop bellyaching just cause you suck at this.”

“I did not think a card game would get so violent,” Peter sighed, “But this is vastly more entertaining.”

“That’s the consensus when it comes to this type of game,” you shrugged. Maybe bringing games from your realm was not the smartest move. It was all fine and well to threaten to murder your siblings over a game of Uno knowing it was all just play acting. On Neverland though you were fairly certain that someone may wind up dead in the heat of competition. That’s what made it interesting though.

“Wild card,” Felix set a card down, “Change it to red.”

“You fucking asshole!” Peter seethed, “I don’t have any red!”

“Oh how sad,”

Peter went through pulling more and more cards until he finally drew a red one and set it down. With a mischievous grin you placed a red reverse card down sending the turn back to Peter. “You absolute bitch!” He went back to drawing cards, “This cannot be real. One of you is hoarding red cards.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Felix smirked.

“All the cards are gonna be red soon if you reverse me again,” Peter finally set down another red card.

“And I would love to see you try,” Felix dropped red card after red card before ending it on a reverse back to Peter.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!” He shouted, “You know what? That’s a three and I have a yellow three so we’re going back to yellow!”

“And I have a blue three so the color is now blue,” you put down your card.

“I hate this game,” Felix groaned, shuffling through his large handful of cards.

“It could be worse,” you said, “We could be playing monopoly or parcheesi.” you were thankful that there was no way to hook up a video game system here because the rage that would be expelled during a game of Mario Kart would be astronomical.

“I do not know what either of those are but if they are anything like this than I am sure that someone will end up dead.” Peter laughed. “Oh Felix, by the way, back to green and draw four.”

“That’s it!” Felix lunged at him. You dodged out of the way as Felix and Peter went tumbling head over heels, the cards they had been holding now scattered across the jungle floor. That seemed like a good enough point to start packing it up. You started gathering the cards and watched out of the corner of your eye as Felix and Peter grappled with one another.

A part of you wondered how much of that was anger and how much was sexual tension. Probably an equal amount.

You packed up the cards and went to another group of boys. “Hey, you guys wanna play?”

“Weren’t you playing with Felix and Pan?” one of the boys asked.

“Well, I was and then things got a little heated.” you jutted a thumb back over your shoulder where the boys were still rolling around on the ground throwing punches.

“Is Pan gonna kill him?”

“Nah,” you shrugged and sat down, “So, who’s in?”

“Uh…” their focus was still on Peter and Felix.

You shook your head and turned around, “Hey! Either one of you land a punch or make out! You can’t just roll around on the ground all night.”

“We are not--” Felix started to say before Peter’s foot kneed him hard in the stomach. That flew him back into a rage and punched Peter in the face.

“This is the most violent form of flirting I have ever seen,” you sighed and turned back to the other group of lost boys. “So? Shall I explain the rules?”