#anyway. tag rant. needed to get this off my chest

[blonde-and-cat-suc]

Lately I’ve been thinking about how in the past I would explain my dislike for C//A and some aspects of certain media with the rhetoric that there was something morally wrong with it—the possibility of this still very much a possibility, BUT—I have decided that I don’t need to keep having this run around with my own mind trying to discover a “reason” (and better than that, a *correct* reason) to dislike something. If I don’t like it, I don’t like it. I don’t have to have a reason.

[aroace-omnist]

It's ridiculous how many exceptions to "thou shall not kill" people can come up with.

[astralarias]

augh i want a hug. or to fall asleep with someone. i had a pretty bad nightmare this morning and thinking about going to sleep again makes me wanna cry. i wanna cry anyway honestly. i am so afraid. i want to ask people for reassurance that i'm not unwanted and i'm still okay and good but that always feels wrong to do. i don't wanna put pressure on anyone i just. want a hug and to feel safe sleeping.

[kats0nlin3]

master of none 3 | eddie munson x fem!reader

summary Hurt and betrayed, she finds herself growing closer to Ross, a familiar face with a kind heart. But Eddie isn’t happy about that. Fueled by jealousy and anger, he spirals.

warnings nsfw, 18+ only, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation, jealousy, verbal abuse, implied sexual content, public humiliation, physical altercation, yelling/arguing, crying, anxiety, stalking (implied), breaking and entering (implied), Y/N

tags @kellyxo1 @justalotoffanfiction @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @scream4mami @littlemissholy @them-cute-boys @thepurplelovewitch

Part 2

𝜗𝜚

You drop your books onto an empty table with a dull thud, exhaling as you take in the blessed quiet of the library. This time of day, most students were either in class or too distracted elsewhere to bother studying, leaving you with a rare pocket of peace. Perfect. You had a free period, and you planned to use it to make some progress on your history paper.

Flipping through your notes, you scan the assignment instructions—only to realize you’re missing one crucial book for your sources. With a sigh, you push your chair back and weave through the maze of shelves, heading toward the back corner where you last saw a copy.

Sure enough, the book is right where it should be. The only problem? It’s perched on the very top shelf, far out of reach.

You stretch onto your toes, fingertips just brushing the spine. No luck. You glance around—no step stool in sight. With a determined huff, you start prepping yourself to scale the shelf, already mapping out where to place your feet—

An arm suddenly reaches past you, plucking the book from the shelf with ease.

You spin around, startled, only to be met with Ross’s smirking face as he holds the book out to you.

“Oh,” you blink, catching your breath. “Uh—thanks.”

He shrugs, still holding the book as if waiting for something. Eventually, you take it from his hand, clutching it to your chest as you turn back toward your table. But Ross doesn’t leave. Instead, he follows.

“I didn’t take you for a history type of girl,” he muses. “You know, with all this war stuff and—”

“Why? Because I’m all about getting my nails done and going shopping?” you say, keeping your tone serious, arms crossed as you level him with a stare.

Ross’s face goes bright red, his confidence crumbling in an instant. “No! No, absolutely not! I didn’t mean it like that, I was just—”

You let the silence hang for a second longer, watching him scramble, before cracking a grin. “Relax, Ross. I was messing with you.”

He exhales sharply, pressing a hand to his chest like you just gave him a heart attack. “Jesus. You got me.” After a second, he starts chuckling too, shaking his head. “Not funny.”

“Very funny.” You smirk, setting your book down on the table. “Anyway, I’m writing a history paper for my sixth-period class. That’s why I’ve got all these books.”

“You need some help?” Ross asks, nodding toward your stack of books. “I mean, you’re pretty smart, and you probably know what you’re doing, but I kinda like history myself. Could rant about a thing or two.”

You glance up at him, surprised but amused. “You? A history buff?”

“What can I say? I have layers.”

“You know what? That would actually be great.” You push your bag off the chair beside you and gesture for him to sit.

Ross wastes no time dropping into the seat, shrugging off his letterman jacket and slinging it over the chair. As he digs into his backpack, you turn back to your notes, only to pause when he pulls out a brown paper bag and starts unpacking his lunch.

“You eaten yet?” he asks, glancing at you as he unwraps a sandwich.

Your stomach twists slightly at the question. You can’t exactly say yes—not after what happened with Eddie at lunch. You had barely touched your food, still reeling from the way he walked away like it was nothing. Like you were nothing.

You swallow hard, forcing a casual tone. “Uh, yeah.”

Ross doesn’t look convinced. He pauses for a moment, then silently pulls out a second sandwich and slides it across the table toward you.

You hesitate. It looks really good, and truthfully, your appetite has started creeping back. But you don’t want to take his food, especially if he packed it for himself.

“Ross, I—”

“Just take it,” he interrupts, not even looking up as he pops open a bag of chips. “I don’t like eating alone anyway.”

The simple statement makes your chest tighten unexpectedly. After a beat, you sigh, giving in and picking up the sandwich.

“…Thanks.”

Ross grins, and you can’t help but return it. As you take a bite of the sandwich, he stands up, fishing some loose change from his pocket.

“I’m gonna grab you a Coke. Any favorite?”

You shake your head, still chewing.

“Alright, mystery flavor it is,” he teases, stepping backward toward the library doors. “I’ve got cookies in the bag—help yourself.”

He’s still mid-sentence when bam—he collides with someone just as he’s pushing through the door.

Dustin hits the ground with a surprised yelp.

“Oh, shit! My bad, man!” Ross immediately bends down, grabbing Dustin’s arms and hauling him up with ease. “You alright?”

Dustin blinks up at him, wide-eyed, nodding quickly like he’s afraid Ross might change his mind and body-slam him instead.

Ross gives him a pat on the arm, nods once, and heads off toward the lunchroom like nothing happened.

Dustin, still stunned that a jock not only didn’t cuss him out but actually helped him up, brushes himself off. His confusion quickly morphs into curiosity as he glances through the library window.

And then he freezes.

Ross just came out of there. And you’re in there. Alone. With him.

Shit.

Eddie is not going to like this.

⭒ ⭒ ⭒

“See you tomorrow, Ed!” Jeff called out, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he headed for the door. The rest of the Hellfire Club filed out behind him, their post-campaign chatter fading into the hallway.

With the session officially dismissed, only Dustin and Eddie remained. Dustin had technically volunteered to help clean up, but really, he was using the time to grovel.

“I swear, once it started coming out, I couldn’t stop! And you know Steve—he’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to his sister—”

Eddie let out a low chuckle, tossing a stray D20 into the dice bag. “Henderson, breathe. You’re gonna give yourself a damn aneurysm.”

Dustin sucked in a sharp breath and forced himself to exhale. “Okay. Okay. But I just— I really didn’t mean to rat you out, man. It just happened.”

Eddie waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, I get it. And I forgive you.”

Dustin blinked. “You do?”

“Of course, you little weasel.” Eddie smirked, nudging Dustin’s shoulder. “You are the future face of this club once I get the hell out of here. Besides… me and Y/N are done.”

“Whew, I’m so glad you said that,” Dustin blurted out, bending down to scoop up a few stray dice from the floor.

Eddie, mid-step, suddenly froze.

His grip tightened around the throne chair he was carrying, knuckles whitening. Slowly, he set it down with an audible thunk before turning toward Dustin, eyebrows pinching together.

“…What do you mean by that?”

Dustin stiffened. His big mouth was really gonna get him killed one of these days. Maybe he should invest in some duct tape. Heavy-duty. Industrial strength.

“N-nothing,” he said, voice cracking slightly as Eddie took a slow, deliberate step forward.

Eddie crossed his arms, expression unreadable. “Henderson,” he drawled, tilting his head. “You sure there’s nothing you wanna share with the class?”

“No…” Dustin tried, voice weak, but the way Eddie’s eyes darkened made his resolve crumble almost instantly.

“Henderson,” Eddie warned, his tone low and edged with suspicion.

Dustin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Fine! But promise you won’t lose your shit, alright?”

Eddie didn’t respond—just crossed his arms and gave Dustin a look that made it very clear he was waiting.

Dustin swallowed hard. “Look… it might be nothing—probably is!—but I saw Y/N and Ross hanging out together at the library.”

“Who the hell is Ross?” Eddie scoffed, brows knitting together.

Dustin blinked at him. “You know—big basketball dude that’s been after Y/N since sophomore year?”

Eddie’s expression shifted. Oh. That Ross.

The guy who was always lurking, always tossing compliments Y/N’s way like he was entitled to her attention. Eddie had caught him staring at her more times than he could count, eyes lingering a little too long, his interest just subtle enough to not get called out for it.

And now Y/N was hanging out with him? After Eddie specifically made it clear he couldn’t stand the guy?

She was doing this on purpose.

A sharp, hot coil of jealousy twisted in Eddie’s gut, crawling up his spine like a live wire. His jaw clenched so hard it ached.

“Close up when you’re done,” he snapped, slamming the room keys onto the table with a clatter.

“Eddie! Eddie, wait—where are you going? Shit!” Dustin fumbled to grab his things, scrambling after him.

“Forgot my drumsticks…” Gareth mumbled as he stepped into the theater room—only to be nearly knocked off balance as Eddie shoved past him without a word.

Gareth turned, watching Eddie storm off with a deep frown. “Jesus, what’s up with him?”

“No time to explain—just go after him! He’s about to do something really stupid!” Dustin said in a panic, snatching Gareth’s drumsticks off a nearby chair and shoving them into his chest before practically dragging him out the door.

With a quick turn of the key, Dustin locked up the room behind them, then bolted after Eddie, Gareth right on his heels.

They didn’t have to guess where he was headed.

Straight toward the gym.

⭒ ⭒ ⭒

“Alright, ladies, take five!” Chrissy called out, clapping her hands.

As the cheerleaders broke formation, Chrissy let out a squeal when Jason snuck up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Looked like the basketball team was on a break, too.

You reached into your bag, pulling out your water bottle just as a familiar figure approached—Ross, looking just a little too shy for a guy who spent most of his time dominating the court.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hi,” you replied, taking a sip of your water. His cheeks were already turning red, and you had a feeling it wasn’t just from practice.

“You, uh… you looked great! I-I mean, the dance is coming along great!” He corrected himself quickly, clearing his throat.

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Why, thank you.”

Ross scoffed, shaking his head. “Wow, not even gonna compliment me back?”

Feigning an exaggerated eye roll, you sighed dramatically. “Fine, I guess you were alright out there, tossing balls into baskets or whatever.”

His laughter was warm, and the way his eyes lit up made it clear he was enjoying this exchange just as much as you were.

“It’s not as easy as it looks, you know,” Ross said, crossing his arms with a smirk. “I’d like to see you try shooting from the free-throw line.”

You raised a brow, matching his energy. “Maybe I will. Give me a ball.”

Ross chuckled but didn’t hesitate to grab one from the basket, spinning it in his hands before passing it to you. As you stepped onto the court, he stood beside you, arms resting on his hips.

“Alright, hot shot. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Careful, Ross,” you teased, bouncing the ball a few times. “I might just take your spot on the team.”

He laughed. “Ohhh-kay. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

With that, you took a deep breath, lined up your shot, and let the ball sail through the air. For a second, you thought it was going to miss—but then, swish! It dropped straight through the hoop.

Your eyes widened in shock before excitement took over. “Holy shit!”

Ross threw his hands up. “No way! First try?”

A small crowd that had gathered on the sidelines started cheering, and before you could even think, you jumped into Ross’s arms. He caught you with ease, spinning you around in celebration.

“Alright, maybe I should be worried about my spot,” he joked, grinning as he set you back down.

You laughed breathlessly, your heart still racing—maybe from the shot, maybe from the way Ross was looking at you.

You wrapped your arms around Ross’s neck as he held you tightly, his warmth momentarily making you forget everything else.

“I hope you’re not too bummed,” you teased, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Ross just looked at you, his brown eyes filled with something softer. “Wouldn’t have picked a better replacement than you.”

You both smiled, caught in the moment, and for a brief second, the weight of the past few days lifted. The fight with Steve. The blowout with Eddie. The confusion swirling inside you. It all faded into the background—until the gym doors slammed open, shattering your peace like a gunshot.

The echo of the impact made everyone’s heads turn. Your stomach twisted into knots the second your eyes landed on Eddie.

Ross immediately let go of you, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he took a step forward, standing beside you like a silent wall of defense. His posture was relaxed, but the tension rolling off him said otherwise.

Your gaze flickered to Dustin, who stood frozen in the doorway, looking guilty as hell. He caught your eyes and winced, a silent apology written all over his face.

“Eddie, let’s go, man.” Gareth’s voice was tight with unease. He grabbed Eddie’s arm, but Eddie yanked it away without looking at him.

Eddie’s attention was locked on you, his dark eyes filled with something unreadable—rage, hurt, jealousy? Maybe all three. He stepped closer, ignoring Gareth’s plea and Ross’s warning stare.

“That was fast,” he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “Didn’t even give it a full day before throwing yourself at the next guy that gives you a little attention.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always desperate for it, weren’t you?”

The air in the gym turned suffocating. Eyes darted between you, Ross, and Eddie, waiting for the next explosion.

Eddie leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a mocking whisper. “That’s why you’re making yourself so available for this prick, right?”

Ross’s fists clenched at his sides. Your heart pounded.

This wasn’t just a scene anymore. This was a fight waiting to happen.

“Eddie, not now,” you said through clenched teeth, your voice low, warning.

But Eddie just tilted his head, a cruel smirk curling at the edges of his lips. He was enjoying this—watching you squirm, pushing you into a corner.

“Why not?” he taunted. “Embarrassed? Afraid I’ll tell Ross all about our little secret meetings? How you’d cry and beg for me to fuck the shit out of you?”

A sharp breath caught in your throat. Your entire body stiffened.

The weight of Ross’s stare burned into the side of your face, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Shame curled in your chest, spreading like wildfire. Your cheeks felt hot, your eyes stinging with unshed tears.

Ross exhaled sharply, his voice steady but edged with warning. “Hey, man. Whatever you had with Y/N in the past—that’s none of my business.”

Eddie let out a low, humorless chuckle. Then he stepped closer, closing the distance between you three, eyes locked on Ross like a predator sizing up his competition.

“Not the past, my guy,” Eddie said. He tilted his head, watching the way Ross tensed. “Literally this week.”

“Regardless,” Ross continued, his voice firm, unwavering, “it’s over. You can be mad all you want, but what you’re not gonna do is stand here and call her a—”

“A slut?” Eddie cut in, his voice cold. “Because that’s what she is. And that’s what she’s always gonna be.”

Before you could even react, Ross lunged. His hands twisted into Eddie’s shirt, yanking him forward until they were chest to chest.

“I’m warning you,” Ross ground out, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might shatter. “You leave her the hell alone, or we’re seriously gonna have a problem.”

Eddie didn’t flinch. He just smirked, a sick amusement flashing in his eyes as he wrenched himself free and shoved Ross back, hard.

By now, Jason had stormed over, grabbing Ross before he could retaliate, while Gareth struggled to hold Eddie in place.

“Hit me,” Eddie taunted, his voice low and lethal. “Go ahead. See what happens.”

Your breath hitched, the overwhelming weight of everything crashing down on you at once. You barely registered Chrissy’s gentle touch on your arm, barely heard her soft, reassuring voice as she led you out of the gym, away from the chaos.

“I hate him! I fucking hate him!” The words tore from your throat, raw and shaking.

“I know, honey. I know.” Chrissy’s voice was soft, soothing, as she wrapped her arms around you, holding you tight like she could physically keep you from falling apart.

The gym doors creaked open, and you stiffened. Heavy footsteps approached, stopping just a few feet away.

Ross.

Even without looking, you could feel his presence, the concern radiating off of him. He hesitated before stepping closer. “Where’s Eddie?” Chrissy asked.

“Asshole left through the back door.”

Chrissy muttered something under her breath before pulling back to cup your face gently. “I’m gonna go cancel practice, okay? You get on home and relax.”

You nodded, hurriedly wiping at your damp cheeks, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at Ross. The embarrassment, the shame—it was all too fresh, too raw.

Chrissy gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze before disappearing back into the gym, leaving just the two of you.

A heavy silence settled between you. Then, finally, Ross spoke, his voice softer than you expected.

“You okay?”

You swallowed hard, but the lump in your throat remained.

You weren’t. But you didn’t know how to say that.

“You don’t have to pretend like you care.” Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to sound firm, to push him away before he could do it first.

Ross’s brows knit together in confusion. “What? I’m not pretending.”

“Oh, come on!” Your frustration boiled over, mixing with the lingering humiliation Eddie had left behind. “You’re really gonna stand there and act like you don’t feel disgusted after what he said? After he told you what I’ve done?” Your voice cracked, but you pushed through. “I’m all used up!”

“Stop talking like that about yourself!” Ross’s voice was sharp, but his eyes—God, his eyes—were filled with something else entirely. Not pity. Not judgment. Just… care.

You turned away, swallowing hard. “Just leave me alone, Ross.”

You barely took a step before he caught your wrist, pulling you toward him. Before you could protest, his arms wrapped around you, solid and warm. The dam inside you broke.

You buried your face in his chest, fists clenching his hoodie as the sobs wracked through you. His hand moved to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, soothing, anchoring.

“I don’t care what that freak said,” Ross murmured, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re not disgusting, alright? You’re perfect to me.”

Your breath hitched, but the warmth of his words seeped into the cracks Eddie had left.

You stayed there, pressed against him, letting the world fade away until your breathing evened out. Until the weight on your chest wasn’t so suffocating.

Then, without a word, Ross led you to his car and drove you home.

⭒ ⭒ ⭒

The landline wouldn’t stop ringing. Over and over, the shrill sound pierced through the silence of your room, each ring grating on your already raw nerves. You tried to ignore it, but after what felt like an eternity, frustration won out.

You snatched up the receiver. “Stop calling, asshole! I want nothing to do with you anymore, do you hear me? Nothing!”

A beat of silence. Then, his voice—low, pleading.

“Baby—”

You slammed the phone down before he could say another word. Your heart pounded in your chest, anger and something dangerously close to heartbreak intertwining.

A few seconds later, it rang again. You didn’t hesitate this time, yanking the plug from the wall with a sharp tug.

Steve passed by your room just as you threw the cord aside. You met his gaze, silently daring him to say something, anything. To yell at you, to scold you, to tell you that Eddie wasn’t worth your tears. But he just looked away, his expression unreadable, and walked out. The door clicked shut behind him, painfully quiet.

You exhaled shakily, your body sagging as you slid down to the floor, pressing your back against the bed. Your hands covered your face as the weight of it all came crashing down.

You missed how things used to be. Before Eddie turned into a complete asshole. Before your brother started acting like you didn’t exist. Before everything fell apart.

But it was too late now.

Desperate for any kind of relief, you ran a hot bath and sank into the water, letting the steam curl around you. The heat burned at first, but you welcomed it, hoping it would somehow melt away the ache in your chest. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, staring at the ceiling, lost in the storm of your own thoughts.

Then—a sound.

A rustle just outside the bathroom door.

Your breath hitched. The water stilled around you.

You sat up, heart pounding, listening.

Someone was there.

“Steve?”

Silence.

The moment the name left your lips, you cursed yourself. Steve left for work, dumbass. There was no way it was him.

Your pulse quickened as you listened, straining to hear past the faint dripping of water from your bath. The house was quiet—too quiet.

Slowly, you stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around your damp body. Your skin was still warm from the bath, but a chill ran down your spine as you cracked the bathroom door open an inch. The hallway was cloaked in darkness. How long had you been soaking in the water? It had been daylight when you got in, but now the house felt… different.

Swallowing hard, you stepped out, bare feet making no sound against the floor as you tiptoed forward. You peeked into each darkened room, holding your breath with every glance.

Living room—empty.
Kitchen—nothing.
Steve’s room—just as he left it.

That only left your room.

Your fingers tightened around the towel as you slipped inside Steve’s room, grabbing a mini statue from his dresser—a solid, weighted thing, cold in your grip. If someone was in your house, you weren’t going down without a fight.

You moved cautiously toward your bedroom door, pressing your back to the wall before slowly pushing it open. Your heart pounded as your eyes scanned the space. At first, you didn’t see anything. But then—

A shadow. Crouched by the window.

Adrenaline surged through you. You gritted your teeth, raised the statue, and prepared to swing—

“Woah, woah, woah! I’m not an intruder!”

The figure’s hands shot up in surrender. The voice—familiar, frantic.

Your breath caught. You knew that voice.

With shaking hands, you flicked on the light.

There, huddled by your window like a goddamn criminal, was Eddie.

[inkedbydesire]

Can’t Let Go (Pt 4.1)

Jimmy Uso x Black Fem Reader

(Part 1)

(Part 2)

(Part 3)

A/N: This is inspired by an Adele song called “Can’t Let Go.” Please give it a listen if you’ve never heard it. It will enhance your reading experience (I hope 😂).

Warnings: None.

Summary: After two years of unresolved issues and heartache, you and Jonathan finally have a long overdue conversation.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: No way it took 3 months to come back with an update 😭. Hopefully somebody is still interested. Anyways, I apologize in advance for any typos or grammatical errors I may have missed during my proofreading.

Sidenote: Adele’s “Can’t Let Go” inspires the overall story, but here are 4 more songs to describe Y/N’s feelings. Feel free to give them a listen if you want. I think it will enhance your reading experience (I hope).

Tagging: @empressdede @amandairene88 @mindairy @punksyeet (sorry if you’re like “Bitch it’s been 3 months no one cares” 😂)

*************************************************

"You've got every right to be mad, Y/N. You really do. But I'm gonna play devil's advocate here and say you should still try to hear him out. There's so much y'all need to get off your chests. And at this point? You just gotta be adults about it."

Jade's words were followed by an innocent shrug that only deepened the glare you shot at her through your phone screen. Even over FaceTime, you could see the gentle furrow of her brow forming into that all-too-familiar look. The one she wore when she stopped being your best friend and started playing therapist.

The very last thing you needed this morning.

After the stunt Jonathan pulled last night, sleep had been nearly impossible. You tossed and turned for hours, haunted by the image of his glassy eyes and slurred words. When you finally did drift off, you woke up with one goal in mind: hand him back his keys and send him on his way.

It had taken everything in you to build the courage to sit down with him after two years of silence, two years of healing in your own way, and two years of slowly piecing your life back together. And last night, when he made the choice to show up drunk? He blew it.

Disappointed wasn't even the word. You were past that.

You barely wanted to look at him, let alone tackle some in-depth conversation. You had been ready for that last night, but not anymore, not after what he did.

You'd just finished your morning routine and were on your way to kick him out of your house and out of your life again when Jade called. Of course, she couldn't wait to hear how it went. Curiosity won out, and instead of getting ready for her first therapy session at ten, she hit your line.

Now here you were, sitting on the edge of your bed, reliving the mess and feeling the anger you were trying with everything in you to subdue bubble right back to the surface.

You were beyond pissed off at Jonathan. But even more than that, you were pissed off at yourself. For even reading his damn letter in the first place. For deciding to reach out. But the real clown of the day was the secret part of you that had actually looked forward to seeing him again.

Jonathan had been a major part of your life for over a decade. Not having that element anymore was almost like a culture shock. No matter how hard you tried to bury and ignore it, of course, some part of you missed him. Even if you weren't ready to admit it.

And then he had to show up and shit all over it.

You wanted........ no, scratch that, you expected Jade to be on your side. To call him every name in the book. To back you up without hesitation. But no, Dr. Jade Washington had to be logical and balanced. You wanted to rant, but in turn, she wanted to give you what she thought you needed to hear, not what you wanted to hear.

"I hear you, Jade," you muttered, words forced through clenched teeth. You were ready to get her off the phone at this point.

"Do you, though? All I'm saying is try to understand why he felt the need to get drunk before you shut him out again."

"I truly don't care why he did it, Jade. You must be on his side or something?"

Your voice was sharper than you intended, but you couldn't help it. Why was she so damn determined to get you to see things from his perspective?

He was the one who cheated. He was the one who messed everything up. And instead of showing up sober and ready to talk like a grown ass man, he stumbled in, wasted. To you, it felt like a giant fuck-you. Like he didn't respect what you two had enough to face it head-on. Hell, you wanted a drink too last night, but you convinced yourself it would be better for you both if you didn't let any outside substances cloud your mind. It was annoying as hell that he didn't share the same sentiments or possess the same control.

"I'm on your side, Y/N. You know that. I'm offended you would even ask," Jade replied.

"I just don't want you going into this blinded by anger. That'll only bring more stress and chaos. I've watched you carry the weight of how things ended with him for two years. I just want you to get the closure you deserve. If you turn him away today, we'll be right back at square one. Absolutely nothing will get resolved, and you'll go back to trying to avoid everything that reminds you of him. Y'all shared too much and too many years for that to even be possible, Y/N. You never have to see him again after this if you don't want to. Just... get through today."

You paused, letting her words sink in. Of course, they made sense. Everything she said always made sense. But you weren't in the headspace for it. Your defenses were back up, and not even Jade's best advice could break through.

"I hear you," you repeated, quieter this time.

"Alright. Go handle your business. Let me know how it goes later."

"Mmhmm."

You ended the call with a heavy sigh and tossed your phone on the bed.

As you slowly stood, your eyes locked on Jonathan's confiscated keys sitting on your nightstand where you'd dropped them last night. You stared at them for a second before slipping them into the pocket of your shorts.

Whatever anxiety you had about seeing him again was gone. His actions over the last twenty-four hours had killed that. You weren't nervous anymore. You had spent literal days stressing about how you would feel being in his presence again after so long. But now? You were just... over it, and it had barely started.

After releasing another sigh, you left your room, wondering if Jonathan was still snoring on your couch like he had been at 5 a.m. when you passed through to get a drink. Since you no longer had to purchase furniture with him in mind, your couch was far too small for a 6'3", two-hundred-something-pound man. At five, he had been sprawled out awkwardly, half-covered with a pillow because you damn sure weren't offering him a blanket. He could've pulled a Jack Dawson for all you gave a damn.

Admittedly, though, you did find yourself watching him for much longer than needed before retreating to your room. But no one had to know that but you.

Now, as you rounded the corner, you found him sitting upright with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His shirt was gone for whatever reason, and the neat ponytail he arrived with had unraveled into loose, shoulder-length waves.

For a second, you wondered just how long he'd been sitting up like that.

"Jon," you instantly called his name, voice loud enough to jolt him out of whatever spiral he was in. You didn't want to prolong whatever this interaction would be by standing there hesitating.

His head snapped up, and the moment his eyes met yours, the first word that came to mind was pitiful.

He looked absolutely pitiful.

There was a deep sadness in his eyes, the kind that you felt was well deserved, but surprisingly, it didn't bring as much satisfaction as you thought it would.

Dating back to high school, you never found any joy in seeing Jonathan upset. It was such a rare occasion because he hardly ever took anything seriously. He was always known to start cracking jokes, which caused 95 percent of the arguments y'all barely got into. But his mood was how you learned to calm down with your pessimism and gauge how serious a situation was. If he was upset, it meant something. So, his being mad or sad about something always put you on high alert, instantly searching for ways to help.

But this? This was different.

He brought this on himself.

You had no reason to feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. You talked a good game to Jade about not giving a damn about his feelings, but yet here you were. You were so disgusted with yourself for even going there. If you were going to make it through today, you had to be stronger than that.

"There are some extra toothbrushes, towels, and stuff in the bathroom down the hall to the left," you said once you collected your thoughts, pointing in that direction. "You can get yourself together in there."

You turned on your heels without waiting for a response and headed towards your kitchen. When you entered, morning light streamed through the blinds as you opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. You didn't have much of an appetite at the moment. You leaned against the sink, listening to the quiet shuffle of Jonathan's feet as he made his way down the hallway.

Discomfort settled in your body as your mind drifted to how drastically different this morning with him was from any other morning you two had ever shared. 

You used to love waking up next to him.

Countless mornings, you would open your eyes and be melted by the smile he would give you when you caught him watching you sleep. Something he always acted like he wasn't doing, even when he had been caught red-handed.

"Wasn't nobody watching you, girl," his voice echoed in your head, followed by his contagious laughter.

You always playfully teased him about it, but unbeknownst to him, you did the same thing. Jonathan slept like a bear in hibernation. He never caught the numerous mornings you would lie awake, taking in his beauty and tracing your fingertips over his tattoos. Just perfectly content with being wrapped up in him.

Y/N, stop it.

You forced yourself out of the memory and focused on your surroundings.

Your eyes landed on the roses from last night, now wilting, and the small jewelry box beside them. A distraction. That's what you desperately needed, or you were going to continue standing here hurting your own feelings. You set your water down and picked up the box.

Of course, Jonathan thought he could woo you with a piece of jewelry to soften the blow of this "reunion." He was never the type to try to buy his way out of trouble before, but so much had obviously changed over the last two years. You weren't sure he was the same boy you met in the hallway all those years ago or the same man who made you feel safe enough to let your guard down again. 

You didn't know him anymore.

Slightly shaking your head, you pulled the box open and almost dropped it as your breath caught in your throat. The gold necklace tucked inside wasn't some new piece of jewelry that Jonathan purchased recently; it was something you knew all too well. You lifted it from the box, and as you held it out in front of you, your eyes dropped down to the simple "J" pendant.

You hadn't laid eyes on it since the day you discarded it on the bathroom counter when you walked out on him.

To anyone on the outside looking in, it was just a piece of jewelry. But to you? It had been everything.

He gave it to you when you both were seventeen, way back in high school. It wasn't your birthday, Valentine's, or any other special day. It was just a random day when he decided to pull it out and slide it around your neck. That led to it being the same day you decided to trust him with your virginity and the day you realized you could see forever with him.

From that day forward, you wore it like it was attached to your skin. You remembered losing it once during a football game while cheerleading and crying to Jonathan so hard that he gathered Joshua and half the football team to help find it. And somehow they did.

Even after graduation, when you and Jonathan mutually split, even when you were with Trevor, the necklace remained in your possession, tucked away in your jewelry box. And when you and Jonathan found your way back to each other romantically, it was the first thing you put back on the first time you visited him.

Seeing it now hit you like someone just kicked you in the stomach. It was the last thing you thought would be in that box. With shaky hands, you returned it to the kitchen island while blinking back the tears that pooled in your eyes. One escaped, and you wiped it away with the tips of your fingers.

You better fucking not.

You closed your eyes, breathing through the ache. A tactic you mastered during the early stages of the demise of your and Jonathan's relationship. You cried so many tears over him for a whole year. Simple things like certain songs or movie titles would trigger you until you learned how to avoid them.

You weren't about to start that shit today.

Just as you had yourself pulled back together, the culprit appeared in the doorway looking considerably better than he did last night.

He was cleaned up and visibly sober. The black shirt he arrived in was now back on his body, while his hair was pulled back into his signature low ponytail. You kept your eyes glued on him as he planted himself across the kitchen island from you, creating the distance you needed. Two years hadn't changed him much physically. He looked just as good as he had the last time you saw him, which was even more annoying.

A few minutes that felt like hours trickled by with nothing but silence in the air as he watched you. He gave off the impression that he didn't know what to say, which was a first because Jonathan Fatu always had something to say.

"I..." he finally spoke, breaking the silence in the room before pausing and running his hand down his face.

"I... I apologize for coming here like that last night," he finally said after forming what you guessed he thought were the right words. Sincerity was etched in his facial features as his eyes searched your face for a response that you didn't have for him. His mentioning last night infuriated you all over again, and the fact that he decided to bring that necklace to further disturb your peace had you beyond agitated. Before you knew it, you were uncontrollably tapping your right leg to combat your nerves.

"I've been hoping and waiting for this for a long time... and last night... I just fucked everything up all over again," he said solemnly, the sound of his voice adding to your agitation.

"You did," you responded flatly.

"To the point that I don't even want to do this anymore." The words came out faster than you could process your emotions, and there was no room for second-guessing as you reached into your pocket and took hold of his keys.

"You can leave." You tossed them towards him, where they landed on the kitchen island with a loud clack. For a split second, you saw yourself aiming them at his face and had to fight against every fiber of your being not to do so.

"Have a nice life, Jonathan," you dismissed him.

In your heart, you didn't know how serious you were. It took years to get to this point, so you weren't sure how much you would regret this decision when you thought about it later. When you were back to moving through life, avoiding daily reminders of him like the plague because you didn't allow yourself to properly heal from the ordeal, you didn't know how you would feel.

At times, you truly hated it, but Jade was right. There was so much that needed to be said between you and him. Words that had been festering for too long. Because Jonathan wasn't just some random dude that you spent a few years with, he was so much more than that. Trying to ignore how much he meant to you and just moving on with life would never work.

But currently, you didn't care. You wanted him out of your apartment.

And again, you were more mad at yourself for even putting all of this in motion. You couldn't handle talking to Jonathan two years ago when everything went down, and still, after so much time, you felt like you weren't capable. How was it possible to have a civil conversation with someone who all but ripped your heart out of your chest?

You glared at Jonathan as his eyes momentarily dropped to the keys before they flicked back up to you.

"No. I'm not going nowhere, Y/N," he stated while disregarding the keys.

"No?" you asked incredulously.

"I waited too long for this, Y/N," Jonathan said as he rounded the kitchen island, walking up on you, causing you to move back against the sink.

"I don't want to leave here in the same position we were two years ago. I can't keep living like that," the words came out as he towered over you. He was standing so close that you could smell that he still wore the same brand of cologne you had gifted him many years ago.

Or was that just something he pulled out to get to you? Either way, you couldn't allow it to distract you.

"You think I give a fuck about what you want right now, Jonathan? You should've thought about that last night," you said as you looked up at him. You then tried walking away, only to be gently pulled back by the arm.

"Don't touch me," you yanked your arm from his grip.

"Look, I was thinking about it, Y/N. Too much. I was so in my head about seeing you again that I thought a few drinks would calm me down, and I ended up overdoing it. I know that's the last thing I should've done, but I guess shit hasn't been as easy for me to deal with as it has been for you." Jonathan tried pleading his case, but you were stuck on the last few words that came out of his mouth.

I guess shit hasn't been as easy for me to deal with as it has been for you.

You hadn't paid much attention to it before, but it was similar to something he wrote in his letter.

I guess it's not as easy for me as it seems to be for you.

"Wait a minute. Let me get this straight," you said to Jonathan while trying to collect your bearings.

"You cheated on me, and you think dealing with that has been easy for me?" you questioned him, bewildered.

"I had to rearrange my whole life because of what you did, Jon. I had to move back here to Florida and start a whole new life without you in it, something I thought I would never have to do. And you think shit has been easy for me?" You didn't give him time to respond as the words flew out of your mouth while you repeatedly poked him in the chest. You were hoping to create some distance with your poking, but Jonathan didn't budge and just stood there taking it.

You were so vexed that your heart was beating rapidly fast, and you were damn near shaking.

"I aborted my fucking ba—" you said before you realized what was coming out of your mouth. You tried to cut it off, but knew it was too late by the way Jonathan looked like someone had just knocked the wind out of him. This isn’t how you wanted that to come out, but you were just so baffled by his audacity in thinking that the breakup was harder for him. He had no idea what you had to go through to even be able to get out of bed in the morning after what he did. 

"You got a abortion Y/N?" Jonathan asked you softly, but you could barely register his words. Your head fell into your hands as it felt like something fell off the shelf inside of you.

You hadn't thought about the abortion in so long. After going through with the process, you tucked it away into the far back of your mind. You buried it and made sure that Jade was the only person who knew and that she wouldn't bring it up unprovoked. Back then, you couldn't handle the reality of the fact that you aborted a child that you and Jonathan were actively trying to have together.

You used to talk about it for hours because with his schedule and yours, you knew that fitting a child into your world would be a hard adjustment. But no matter the cons, the desire to create a life together overpowered everything. You decided that you would figure it out as it came.

You already had names picked out.

Jonathan Solofa Fatu Jr., if it was a boy.

Journee Jae Fatu, if it was a girl.

You wanted to have a child with him.

So, back when you found out you were pregnant, you weren't shocked because you and Jonathan had long stopped doing anything to prevent it. You were more disturbed by the timing. Because how could you get through bearing his child when you couldn't even stand the thought of being near him? So you did what you felt like you had no choice but to do at that time.

And now it felt like the hurt you didn't allow yourself to properly work through back then was settling into your chest now.

"Y/N," Jonathan said your name, but you weren't capable of responding. Tears welled up in your eyes, and it felt like a dam broke as you started doing the one thing you said you didn't want to do behind Jonathan today. You started crying.

You felt so weak as he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest, and you no longer had the strength to push him away.

To Be Continued...

(I promise this will be wrapped up in the next part. I won’t continue to drag it out. I just needed to get something out cause I still care about this story. 😂)

[irregularcollapse]

Hey, I'm so sorry to hear about how you feel about the mota fandom and what happened to you :/ I meant to send a message earlier but life got in the way. I hope you're feeling better now, and I can only tell you that your fics and writing are some of my favorite in the fandom. Just by reading your stories, I can tell the care that was put into choosing each word to best convey the story and the characters' feelings, and it is really somethinf I admire :) I hope I can be as good a writer as you someday ❤️ And for the mota fandom, I totally get what you and that anon said! If you'll allow me a bit of a rant, to me, the mota fandom is full of well-intentioned people but I found that one of its problems is that, as much as there is enthusiasm, it is going in circles. Many have said it and I've noticed it too, but some have a tendency to jump on other people's ideas without giving credit or even asking if it's okay to expand, and on more than one occasion I found one of my ideas in someone else's inbox just a week after I'd posted it which threw me off posting any kinds of hc or random ideas, I only post full fics now because I'm scared that people will see an idea/au that they like on my blog and decide to expand on it without my consent or even crediting me for the original idea :/ To me that sucks because what I love about creating is the interactions with people, but because of the seldom posting except for full fics I don't get much 😂 And I know I could post snippet or hc, but the overenthusiasm bordering on no fandom manners that I've noticed stops me from doing that. Also, as a writer, it is quite discouraging to see people constantly reccing the same 5/6 fics/authors. Don't get me wrong, those are GREAT fics and authors, but babes, there are over 1,000 works in the clegan tag on ao3, why are we constantly reccing the same fics as in summer 2024. It feels like people only read the fics with the highest hits count, and from an outsider's pov, you'd think there are only 10 writers in the mota fandom 😭 I don't if it's bc the mota fandom is new so there are a lots of people from tiktok/that weren't on tumblr/in fandom before but it truly feels like fandom manners are getting lost, despite the plethora of incredible creators in the mota fandom. So there's this opposition between the enthusiasm over new ideas that seems to die down as soon as a story is posted, except if if it's one of the big fics from the summer. Imo the actual recognition of fics doesn't follow the enthusiasm of ideas and hcs, which is a bit of a shame I think, and to be quite honest, it made me lose my motivation to write for mota bc it just feels like I'll post a fic, it'll get traction for maybe a day or two, and then it'll be forgotten somewhere when people sort ao3 by number of hits or kudos

Anyway that was quite long I'm sorry, you don't have to answer this at all, I just needed to get this off my chest, but I really hope you know that even if it may not feel that way, you are an amazing writer, who clearly loves your stories, the characters and the words you use, and that is translated to the ao3 page <3 You truly are one of the most talented fic writers this fandom has, and I'd support you and your stories in whatever fandom you may be in ❤️

I assure you, anon, that you're not the only person to feel this way! I've had quite a few private conversations with friends and mutuals about really similar experiences and observations, and how disheartened and uncomfortable it's making us feel.

I guess people don't say anything because they don't want to be seen as sowing discord or being mean. I know that there are going to be people who might see this and interpret it as me "fuelling fandom discourse" or "fandom wanking" or "being a cunt" but actually I'm just talking about how we treat creators in online spaces, and the way that people en masse have apparently forgotten that creators in fandoms are people.

I had another anon tell me that someone laid claim to one of their ideas in the tags of their headcanon post, and I don't think you're the only person whose idea has been stolen and passed to another writer. I'm really sorry that's happened to you, and you're so right to not feel like posting anything because of it! This is truly the kind of stuff that makes people not want to participate or put themselves out there. Sometimes it's even writers doing the stealing, blatantly and without credit. It makes me think that a lot of people haven't shared creative spaces before and don't know how to be polite.

I also 100% agree about the fic rec thing. It's really disheartening to see the same fics passed around over and over again, not only from a writer perspective but a reader perspective. Something that seems to have emerged in fandom spaces over the years is deifying certain authors of popular fics - fic authors being treated like celebrities, the concept of a "must-read fic", even people only reading fics and authors that are already seen as popular/successful. I get that some people don't want to spend time scraping ao3 for niche fics, that's super understandable, but that's also why it would be nice to see a bit more adventure and variety in fic rec lists!

There is a low-key competitive feeling which a few people have mentioned to me - the feeling that there are people who want to "win" fandom or be the most popular/most reccd/most recognised writer, or whatever it may be. I just feel like anything that makes people feel like they're better than others is... come si dice... not good. I think it's a shitty way to treat people you're sharing a creative space with, to view them as competition and commodity.

Writing for consumption or writing for audience approval isn't something I've ever done, but I feel like it's cropping up more and more in fandom spaces too - not just MOTA, either. That's sort of a different discussion, but I do feel it's related to the copying/stealing in a way as well.

Now I also have to apologise for this getting too long! I'm glad you got it off your chest, and please feel free to come off anon at any time, because you've got an ally in me (and others too, I assure you). I think that everything you've said here merits consideration from everyone, at the very very least! It's in the interest of pursuing a more inclusive, supportive fandom space.

Thanks heaps as well for saying nice stuff about my writing! I only ever want to tell stories, and to give people something to enjoy that has clearly been created with care and consideration. I write to express things I want to express, and so it means a lot to me when other people see what I'm trying to say and pick up what I'm putting down. Truly madly deeply, my most boundless thanks!!! ♥️♥️♥️

[dootznbootz]

As someone who is also really uncomfortable with the Zeus/Odysseus art trend, I completely understand where your coming from!

People’s treatment of Odysseus’s assaults in general makes me really upset. Just the other day I saw a comment on a post saying that “Odysseus wasn’t loyal to his wife yet expects her to be loyal to him” and not once in the replies did I see someone mention that he was literally assaulted. It’s absolutely gross and makes me hesitant to go deeper into the fandom.

I remember being so frustrated when the snippets of “There are Other Ways” came out because so many people were making Hamilton jokes and talking about how he always talks about his wife yet cheated. When in the song it was so clear he was being coerced which is yknow, not a form of consent. I couldn’t even listen to it because it made me so uncomfortable, and even now with the full version out the fandoms reaction to it overall have soured me to it. Which sucks, because I do think it’s a great song.

Also I don’t even think Epic completely erases Calypso’s assault? At least, I think it’s left ambiguous enough during the time jump that people can come to their own conclusions. Specifically when Calypso says “Soon into bed we’ll climb and spend our time” just really gives me the impression that something else happened.

I suppose in the snippets we’ve seen of “I’m Not Sorry For Loving You” it seems like Odysseus and Calypso are on slightly friendlier terms, but I don’t think that negates the fact she could’ve assaulted him. And I’ve always took that song as pretty manipulative on Calypso’s side, with Odysseus more so trying to placate her. But that’s going into theory territory.

And even if he isn’t SA’d in Epic it’s pretty clear he doesn’t want to be there!! Same with Homer’s Odyssey. It’s so infuriating to see the cheating narrative be so widely spread when that is just not what happened.

Anyway’s sorry for the long rant, but I wanted to say that it’s nice to see you take Odysseus’s SA seriously. It’s not something the fandom does enough.

It's okay for the long rant. Sorry I took a bit to get to it but I wanted some "soft chatters" for a bit before I tackled this one :)

"Just the other day I saw a comment on a post saying that “Odysseus wasn’t loyal to his wife yet expects her to be loyal to him” and not once in the replies did I see someone mention that he was literally assaulted. It’s absolutely gross and makes me hesitant to go deeper into the fandom."

I completely understand you with this stuff. ;~; I used to go through Odyssey tags often as I LOVE possibly finding new people to follow and fun things but too many times I would see shit that pissed me off. ;~; I've honestly kind of just stuck to my mutuals that I trust tbh. And honestly, there's soooo much shit of people just straight up not understanding the context/culture/meaning/etc. of the Epics and just taking it at face value and not understanding the meanings. :/ I'm no expert, but I also have analyzed and researched quite a bit on my own to try and get the full picture. I think in order to truly enjoy the Odyssey, you need to just... really soak shit in, you know?

When Calypso, that lovely goddess,  tried                           to keep me with her in her hollow cave, longing for me to become her husband,                                  or when, in the same way, the cunning witch Aeaean Circe held me in her home filled with a keen desire I’d marry her, they never won the heart here in my chest.

(Book 9, Johnston)

Odysseus tells this to the Phaecians. They are strangers that he will likely never see again and who are isolationists. Therefore his story that he told probably won't be "spread" to others so he can probably say whatever. So he doesn't have to worry about "Penelope hearing a different story than the one he told to her" if people wanna argue about how "Oh well, he didn't tell Penelope about the 'affairs'"(He tells her everything as well btw.)

He could literally say "Oh yeah, I had the time of my life!" but he doesn't because that's not true. Odysseus has no listed concubines, I just literally don't see him as the type of guy who's really into that.

And while yes, he would be devastated if she didn't "stay loyal", he does sound like he'd be understanding. He asks his mother in the Underworld if Penelope had gotten remarried to "the finest of Achaeans". And we all know of Odysseus' words of "when Telemachus has a beard, feel free to remarry". Even when first "rejected" by Penelope in that she didn't hug him when he sat across from her, he was incredibly hurt but asked for a separate bed. He literally could have had it where Penelope takes a different bed and he takes their luxurious/fancy one because he has the rest of the household on his side.

But he DOESN'T!

Because he adores her for fuck's sake!

Funny enough? I have the weird reaction of like, weirdly searching out "Good" animatics as it was a weird reassurance of "yes, people see that it's wrong." as while holy fuck. so many stupid, awful jokes about "Say No to This" in the comments (I have learned to just stay the fuck away from youtube comments on Odysseus shit. :') ) but like, seeing and HEARING how yes, this was fucked, was weirdly really nice for me. yeah, it took a lot of digging but there's a few "There Are Other Ways" that I love. Literally, both are unfinished wips and they're still my favorites. If you can, please give these two a watch and some love for the creator.

This was back before we heard the full song and it's still very good. How he's on guard until she "magics" him and the colors change. After that he kind of moves like a "puppet" but he's still resisting as best he can.

This one is literally still sketches but it's my absolute favorite. Oh my word. The body language, PENELOPE FLASHBACKS!!! Showing cute bits of Penelope's character and how awful this is for him. (Penelope is so cute. She puffs up her cheeks to make him laugh!) How he really is scared that he'll have to go through with this in order to save his friends until all his past trauma floods back and he just can't. It's lovely.

And yeah Idk how to feel about "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" :/ I don't know how it'll be yet, maybe there's something in another song that shows Odysseus' real feelings or whatever.

And with just the whole cheating thing, yeah, it's really upsetting to call what is blatant assault "cheating". As wild as it sounds, Odysseus' story has been more relatable for me than any other stories like this, even modern ones. I've spoken a bit about it before but yeh, victim blaming at its finest. I find him and his story and his love for Penelope slkdfj very relatable. It's honestly really nice to write about in a sense..

(I'm pasting this from an old post of mine but yeh)

I have never had a story that felt like how it actually FEELS. The "aftermath" and "regaining life". It's hopeful and feels really good. It's been years since "everything" but it just felt nice to see "Everybody has the chance to get better." Even Nestor, Helen, and Menelaus, while still dealing with their traumas, are doing a lot better now. And after literal hell, Odysseus got to be with his family and loved ones again. He can start living again. It's why I'm just...idk passionate about this? I'm not a murderer or a war veteran but I see myself in him. Hopefully, y'all see me as nicer though!😂(plus, let's be honest, the Odyssey is romantic af and OdyPen is right up my alley as well >:D )

I really hate the whole "he's a guy so therefore ____" whether it's used as a "Boys will be boys. they can't help themselves" usually aimed at female victims or a "Men always want sex. they cannot be victims.". It's fucked up and used against ALL of us. :( Doesn't matter if it was history. People, no matter the era, should never be put through "Are you Victim™ enough?". He is one.

Idk the Odyssey means a lot to me. I hope it's okay I take some liberties with my fanfics as it's nice healing through him :D I AM kind of using my own experiences and ideas and it feels nice. I don't think Homer necessarily meant for this but eh, anything that helps is good :D He's a war criminal that I relate to.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest May warm-up round.

These Keys?

Prompt: Get a Job | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Off-Screen Recreational Weed Use | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: AU, Gareth Fakes It Until He Can Make It, Car Dealership, Gareth & Steve, Meet Ugly, Eddie Only Tortures Those He Loves Most

Gareth is dozing at his desk, when a knock on his office door startles him awake, "Your two o'clock is here." 

Gareth didn't remember having a two o'clock, but he stands up and tries to smooth out his suit. It's two sizes too big, and something Eddie found for him at a thrift store. It's ugly, but works, for now. He's just working this job selling cars, saving some goddamn money, until the band can start playing full-time. Hopefully. That's the dream, anyway.

He's not very good at it, not like Eddie would be, but Eddie was a no-go with his hair that he refused to cut to be a corporate shill, or whatever he ranted about.

There's a guy standing in the showroom, waiting. Preppy and coiffed within an inch of his life. Great. 

But Gareth approaches him, because he looks like he has money. And money means the chance at a commission. So, Gareth tries to shake the cobwebs out of his brain.

"I'm Steve. We talked on the phone earlier," this guy says, and Gareth reaches out to shake his hand. He has no memory of this alleged conversation. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so stoned with Eddie during his lunch break.

Rolling out of the van loose and faded after lunch, probably wasn't the best idea he's ever had. 

But he hates this job. He can't sell cars. He knows nothing about them. 

"What can I help you with, Steve?" Gareth asks, and Steve's just staring at him, definitely annoyed. What's his damn problem?

"As I said on the phone, my lease is up. I need to find out how much it will be to buy mine out, or lease something new."

"Cool. Cool. Totally, man. We can do that."

"How about this one?" Gareth asks, looking at a BMW he's never seen on the lot before. It's shiny. Really, really shiny. He runs his hand over the roof. "Pretty, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Steve says, but sounds less than enthused, crossing his arms over his chest, and it looks a little aggressive, "Well, how much? What's the mileage?"

Man, he's bitchy.

There's no sticker, but Gareth can find out how much they're asking. He'll just bullshit until then. 

"It's new on the lot," Gareth says, and tries to pull up on the handle, but it doesn't budge.

"Locked, huh?" Steve asks. "Maybe you need the keys?"

Gareth presses his face to the window, to see if he can see the odometer from here, but can't.

"Yeah, I'll get the keys. I'll be right back. Wait here."

"Sure, okay. I'll be waiting," Steve snaps, and Gareth strides off towards the dealership. 

When he comes back, with no keys, Steve is talking to Keith. Goddamnit. 

"Do you know where the keys to this car are?" Gareth asks Keith, interrupting.

Steve pulls a set of keys out of his pocket, "These keys?"

"Where'd you get those?" Gareth asks.

"It's my car, Gareth. This is the car I drove here. The one I've been leasing from you guys for the past two years. The one I told you about, on the phone."

Keith shakes his head, disappointed, and points Gareth back towards the showroom.

He's been dismissed, and his potential commission, gone. Probably his job. A lease would have made sure they wouldn't fire him. Fuck. He didn't know that was Steve's car. How could he have known? Steve could have said something, for fuck's sake. Prick.

And now Gareth just has to stand by watching as Steve goes over the paperwork on his new car. The one Gareth definitely isn't going to sell him. Keith made sure of it. 

Today's not his day. 

At least it's winding to a close, and when Eddie pulls up in the van, Gareth walks toward it, relieved to be done with Keith, Steve, and this job for another day.

But then he notices that Steve is following him. Which, weird. Surely he's not gonna kick his ass over a dumb mistake. He was just a little baked. That's all. 

Gareth pauses. And so does Steve. 

"What?" Gareth asks. 

"What, what?" Steve repeats. 

"Why are you following me?" Gareth asks.

"I'm not following you," Steve says, clearly following him.

"You are." 

"I'm not."

They're still arguing, this childish back and forth, when Eddie gets out and leans against the van. 

"Soooo, I see you've met," Eddie says.

And they both turn to look in his direction. 

"You know him?!" they both yell, in unison. 

And Eddie just cackles. 

"You set me up!" Gareth accuses, pointing at Eddie.

"Well, maybe. A little. But it was mainly Steve I was harassing." 

And then Gareth gets it. 

"This is your Steve?" Gareth asks, pointing at the preppy-looking motherfucker standing next to him.

Eddie nods, pleased with himself, clearly. 

"Eddie! You lost me my commission!"

Steve is rubbing his eyebrow, "Gareth. Shoulda realized. How common could that name be?"

He's muttering quietly and Gareth is scared they've broken him. 

Eddie must be pretty sure about this one, if he's already picking on him this goddamn hard. 

Steve snaps out of it, suddenly striding over towards Keith.

Gareth follows.

"Hey, Gareth was helping me first. He's the one I had the appointment with, so I'd like to finish this up with him. See it through."

"But, are you, I…" Keith splutters, not wanting to let this one go, obviously, and Gareth just grins and holds out his hand for the halfway filled-out lease. 

Keith hands it over, and Gareth leads Steve and Eddie back to his office.

Steve signs on the dotted line, and Gareth will be able to pay his rent for another month. And he hit his monthly bonus, right at the end of the month. Hot damn.

"Thanks, Steve," Gareth says, "Sorry we got off on the wrong foot."

Steve just lulls his head towards Eddie, "Now, we had a little help with that, didn't we?"

And Eddie just cackles, like the shitty troll he is.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: Inspiration for this one, was I saw this video a couple months ago, and had to track down the original on TikTok to share it here. But: Graham, Gareth. It made sense. (And I found there were updates to the Graham debacle!!)

[bottlesandcats]

While I do think this issue will get resolved, with Sam ultimately becoming the rightful leader of the true Avengers, and the New Avengers Thunderbolts getting absorbed into the fold, it’s incredibly frustrating that we are right back here. It feels like, once again, Sam has to prove he’s deserving of the thing he’s already earned. He’s proven it, time and time again, and it’s getting old. It’s honestly bad storytelling. Like c’mon, Marvel, how many hoops you gonna make Sam Wilson jump through? This conflict - bw Bucky and Sam, bw the Thunderbolts and Sam - is one we didn’t need to have bc that shit was sorted out at the end of TFATWS, and then AGAIN in Brave New World. Essentially that PCS undermined Sam's position within the MCU, and I think it's an all-around bad look.

As for Walker, I don’t think Marvel is trying to push him to the forefront. BUT they are making it pretty easy for those more asshole-y parts of the fandom to feel justified in their opinion that Walker is better than Sam, bc he’s got the serum, bc he’s white this all-American guy, etc. (Those ppl also seem to forget that Walker didn't have the serum when he was appointed as the new Captain America, so why is it an issue that Sam doesn't have it?)

On a lesser note, it's also an injustice to Bucky bc it feels like they are undoing all of his character work in regards to his relationship with Sam, as well as his loyalty to Wakanda (referencing Val's anti-Wakandan sentiments). Like, was everything in TFATWS for nothing?

The poster thing involving Seb Stan doesn't bother me as much bc at the end of the day, he's under contract and if they want him to do an add campaign, as tacky as it is, he's got to do an add campaign. We know he's not a fan of this stuff. Did anyone see him promoting the Bucky skin for Marvel Rivals? He looked like he wanted to die lol. I don't like that Marvel was blasting it all over their Twitter page, but marketing is marketing.

Again, I don't think this will be a permanent thing. It doesn't make sense for your main hero group to be a bunch of rag-tag misfits (as much as I love them all) who were thrown together by someone who has basically been established as somewhat of a villain who only did it as a means of covering up a huge felonious fuck-up and avoiding prison. That's just not a trope that works. But it still fucking sucks that we are here right now.

Anyway, if you made it this far thanks for reading. I just had to get this rant off my chest.

[nami-moittli]

Came across a TikTok explaining why Ortho was 16, and if anyone wants the link to the video then I don’t mind sharing, but seeing that made me want to voice some Opinions I have on Ortho’s age to the point that I wrote down what I wanted to say in my notes app so that I could just copy paste it into the comment section. Anyway that comment thread turned out to be 11 comments long and I figured y’all should get this rant too, so here’s my unedited Opinions on why Ortho should be allowed to canonically grow up iF TWST WEREN’T COWARDS!!! (Also very slight book 6 and 7 spoilers. I’m tagging it but just making sure)

Commenting on this post again because I have Thoughts on this, but I wish that twst would just fully commit to aging her up if they truly want to. I think that’s it’s very important to her storyline and character growth to be able to grow up. Like, she was made in the denial phase of grief, and now she’s finally allowed to accept it and move on and grow up. I think that’s great! (Also because I’m me I think making her tfem would also help with this theme but I know that’ll never happen lmao-) but because twst can’t let their characters ever significantly or permanently change their appearance (ex. Riddle’s hair, Vil’s age (even if I agree with resetting him and glad that one didn’t stick) Malleus’s horn) she’s stuck looking like a child when she’s not. Her age in her profile is labeled as “undefined” she’s still 148cm/4’8, she still looks like a child. And if twst truly wishes to let her GROW UP then they should commit to it! She doesn’t need to be Idia’s height! In fact post book 6 I headcanon that she’s 158cm/5’2! Just make her a little taller, give her slightly more mature features, doesn’t need to be drastic, characters like Epel and Lilia are also short and have wide eyes, and firmly and clearly state that she’s 16 years old now in the main story and in her profile. Not tucked away in one of her birthday vignettes! Like I get why they might want to say “undefined” in her profile because oh she was made only 6 years ago or so so saying she’s 16 years old would be wrong or some sort of shit like that, but you could list it as like “16 (mentally/physically)” or something if you really must clarify! *Takes a deep breath* Okay. Thanks I think I needed to get that off my chest. In case you couldn’t tell I Like Her A Lot and Think About Her Often :) it’s a normal amount I assure you. Sigh. Spin off manga one shot where OG! Ortho is alive and he and R! Ortho are twins and they’re both allowed to grow up and live happily together as (semi, they’re still cursed) regular teenagers

[alaskan-wallflower]

i kinda need to get smth off my chest but i think the reason i don’t love the soc/greaser ships is because the characters are so out of character in literally everything.

i’m gonna rant under the cut so like ignore this if you want, i’m not gonna tag anything either since this is a rant for me and me alone

i dunno. it happens especially with cherrycola and parry, i’ve found. like first off, i don’t really think soda’s gonna hop into a relationship with another girl that soon after sandy broke up with him. like i seriously cannot see it at all. same thing with cherry, like her boyfriend was literally murdered, and she canonically spoke about how much she loved him and how he was misunderstood. i don’t think she’s hopping into a relationship anyway either. and also, i love cherry, i really truly do, but she also told pony not to be upset when she wouldn’t say hi to him in school because of how it would affect her reputation. sometimes it comes off to me that people only like it cause it has a cute ship name. maybe it’s also because i headcanon cherry as a lesbian and i can’t really see her with a guy but i digress-

and with parry…i dunno. darry’s always written to be such an asshole to his brothers and friends. let me say it now, but darry wouldn’t pick any soc, not even paul, over his brothers or friends. he didn’t go soc. it was one line in the musical that was so blown out of proportion that it feels like canon darry and fanon darry are two completely different people. and then you just have fandom discourse with how paul should be portrayed and like…paul has no discernible personality. he had one line in the book. some things in the musical. i dunno, it’s just not enough for there to be people having full arguments about how paul needs to be portrayed. and in darry’s case, all the fics with him and paul, even platonic ones, are usually painting darry as such a horrible person, like some of the things people want to happen just would never happen. darry isn’t gonna bully soda and pony with his secret boyfriend. darry isn’t gonna ditch the gang to go to one of paul’s beer bashes so he can smash. i’m sorry but darry is loyal to his gang and would never pick anyone over them.

i can’t say much on marbit but it’s prolly the only soc/greaser thing i can see semi happening. but even then it feels like marcia is so watered down sometimes. i dunno.

again, just a rant for me, ignore if you’re gonna get mad

[oscconfessions]

Okay I need to get this off my chest publicly or I'm going to lose it.

So before Lone Bandit came out I think a ship between Dragonscale and Wagyu popped up and I wanted to talk about it because I have thoughts /neg

Now in regards to Wagyu having a one sided crush, there are no problem. I can totally see it happening. Wagyu IS fairly lonely and I can see his attachment getting to that point. But this rant isn't about that. It's about the idea of Dragonscale reciprocating those feelings.

Now while I'm pretty sure the shippers I saw were thinking of the ship being not one sided, because I do not like the ship, I don't feel like double checking. Keep this in mind.

The idea of Dragonscale having feelings for Wagyu feels super uncomfortable because she is a lesbian. This is blatantly shown in her ref sheet and is also more subtly shown with Ghost Pepper putting on a lesbian bracelet on her in one of the "White Noise. Wagyu is a man. And it feels super uncomfortable to be shipping a lesbian with a man. And while I'm not sure if any of the shippers would use this excuse, I am aware that SOME lesbians can, once in a blue moon, crush on a man. Now in the case of shipping this has the similar vibes of "Well some aromatics can feel romantic attraction". While the statement is true, unless the aromatic character in canon has shown that they are in fact one of these aromatics, it feels like excusing shipping the aromatic. The same applies to lesbians but with shipping with men. Unless the lesbian character is one of those lesbians that can have a blue moon crush on a man, it feels like ignoring/erasing their sexuality. Because while SOME can OCCASIONALLY like a man, SOME DON'T.

And transgender Wagyu x Dragonscale also feels a tad icky to me because it feels like making a character transgender purely for the sake of shipping.

I also feel like I should quickly mention that the argument against this ship could be made that neither should be in a relationship anyways since neither are ready (Wagyu just being way too sheltered and immature to handle a relationship and Dragonscale being kind of a wreck while also heavily grieving both her wife and her friend), but those feel way smaller in comparison to the issue of sexuality.

Now keep in mind that THIS IS A RANT. So even though I do stand by my points regarding sexualites and shipping and all that, it might not applicable in this situation. Sometimes a girlie just needs to get something off her chest publicly (for mods I think this should be tagged as hater compilation because I am indeed hating)

.

[thesadnessthatneedstobesaid]

There's something so demoralizing about my conviction to never come out to my parents. They're both vocally accepting of both trans people and the LGBT community. But my levels of gender fuckery are weird enough that it would be confusing to anyone who isn't in deep with the trans and nonbinary communities. And it's just going to be a a Whole Thing and I just don't want to deal with it.

My mom has expressed distressed confusion with the concept of gender fluid people (albeit it's coming from a place of not wanting to get it wrong and upset someone, which is ultimately kind)

But my father struggles with gender neutral pronouns at all. And it just feels like he's not even trying. I've stopped trying to correct him when he uses the wrong pronouns for my nonbinary friend. It's been years and there's been no improvement or even attempts made to correct himself.

My parents aren't bad people. I would even go so far as to say they're good people. But I just know it would be a Whole Ordeal if I ever told them. And I know that if I told them any pronouns are fine then they'd still exclusively use she/her pronouns for me. But if I told them that I just went by he/they pronouns that would just defeat the point of coming out to them at all.

And it's not bad because my name is gender neutral, and I even love the nickname they use for me (J-Bird) and she/her isn't wrong, but it's definitely my least favorite of my preferred pronoun set (in order - he/they/she)

It's just easier to never say anything and let them live out the rest of their lives believing that I'm the girl society has deemed me as, rather than make the effort only to have nothing change. Right now it's just mildly disappointing when they exclusively call me their daughter and she/her me in conversation out of ignorance. Rather than actively hurtful once they know and don't change anyway.

But they both have a good 30 years left and it's disappointing to think about how I'll just be keeping such a large part of myself unmentioned for so much longer. It's not actively hurtful, but the melancholy is real.

My friends all know, and are all so amazingly supportive. They change up the pronouns they refer to me by consistently. My best friend immediately gave me a new nickname when I cam out to her (J-man) and I love it.

This little rant is all over the place but I just needed to get it off my chest somewhere and shouting into the void feels nice. And I'm tagging on the off chance I manage to reach someone who is feeling the same way because I want you to know that you're not alone.

[fandomwe1rd0]

Just to be clear this entire post is just me angrily ranting about how much I hate rickorty because I need to get this off of my chest because I see rickorty posts even though I have the tag blocked.

TW r*pe mention (Dw my normal posts aren't like this)

Excuse me gonna go on a rant. Rickorty is not only gross for the obvious reasons *cough* pedophilia, age gap, and literally shipping a boy with his abusive grandpa *Cough* but also it makes zero sense for the characters??? Rick is canonically uncomfortable with physical touch when it comes to Morty (Tensing up whenever Morty hugs him), so why would he do anything with Morty?? Not to mention that the dude is not that fucked up, he wouldn't do that to Morty, dude is canonically against child predators, he's shown to be against them multiple times throughout the show (Including outright killing Mr. Jellybean and trying to drown Joseph Campbell when he thought he did something to Morty) speaking of which, Morty has canon trauma due to Mr. Jellybean?? And Rickorty shippers will pretend like he doesn't?? That makes the ship extra gross for me :) Dude has legit trauma from attempted r*pe and you'll try to show Rick and Morty having a sweet cute relationship when Morty has trauma from attempted r*pe??? And that Rick killed the person who attempted to r*pe Morty?? Not only that, it is an unbelievably lazy way to analyze their dynamic, do people not understand that someone can be jealous, controlling, codependent and possessive of someone...and it doesn't have to be romantic? Yes Rick get jealous when it comes to Morty, yes he's controlling, yes he's codepedent, yes he's possessive, but it shows us that these aren't stricly romantic traits. They are toxic yes, but they are purely familial and platonic. Also just to end this post off with a quick counterargument that fucking drives me crazy

"Rick and Morty aren't even grandpa and grandson! Morty is Rick Prime's grandson!"

What?? You realize all Ricks have the same dna right? So while Morty isn't Rick's original Morty since Rick never had a Morty, they are still related genetically, as it shows in "Rick Potion #9" Rick is related to Morty genetically since he wasn't affected by the love potion, and even if he wasn't, that wouldn't matter considering all the other problems with the ship, but also they still see each other as grandpa and grandson. You guys really looked the other way when Morty said "You're my grandpa, Rick." in Solaricks and like all the times Rick refers to Morty as his grandson.

Anyway, done with my angry rant. Just needed to get this off my chest.

[stinger-shot]

Yey! Silly vent because I feel like shit!

Read under the cut if you want the juicy ass details

So basically, I gotta let this shit out.. its fucking me up a bit rn.

I met this dude around the start of 2021 on tiktok AND HE WAS SO TALENTED AND FUNNY but he always said he wasn't. Anyway time skip a lil..

We started getting into a few arguments near the middle of 2022. And they where just small disagreements then they gradually got worse and worse every time it happend. And it especially got bad when I made another friend on tiktok who loved doing art related things and drew my old persona back then.

And HE WAS NOT HAVING IT and he said quite alot of bad things to me. Did I stay friends with him? Yes I did. Did I also block the nice guy just trying to be my friend? Yes. I blocked them out of fear of loosing my best friend.

And near the end of 2022 we started dating because things had gotten a better.

Oh how I was so wrong. Everything just went downhill when he left high-school. He always needed attention. He got mad at me because I couldn't set an alarm BECAUSE he was up at 10am and I was up near 1pm. So I forced myself to do so mutch bullshit for him. Like draw him art as an apology and it drained me do badly I could hardly do my own personal art.

I didn't even have personal art at this point. Every time I fixated on something it was what he was fixating on because he'd get mad at me and argue with me if I wasn't.

But everything was calm when it was around April in 2023 and we where finally getting along like an actul couple because of a game called final fantasy. We where obsessed with it for months! And then around June or July I re discovered transformers.

I have never felt as happy in a fandom since 2019! Like holy shit the fandom is so sweet.

But I kept it a secret from him he still doesn't know. Then at some point I made this tumblr to get my stupid little urges out and now look at where I'm at. I haven't been this happy in a LONG while.

And just st the start of 2024 my ex got into an argument with one of his friends and I offered to talk to them. so he agreed and I spoke to them.

Im so fucking glad I did.

Because without their help I'd still be fucking miserable. They gave me the confidence to dump that bitches ass and I honestly feel like a weight has been taken off. Because it honestly felt like a chore every day of my life just talking to him.

And my other friend on discord had helped me out to. Including you silly fuckers on discord/tumblr. If your even reading this... if you are why are you still reading this?

But anyway. I just needed this off my chest. Because it does hurt a little spite how good i feel but I just have an off feeling. I haven't put down everything that happend while I was with my ex and some things might be in the wrong order or time but at least I'm forgetting it?

Just. I love the transformers fandom so mutch mutch really helped me pull through...

Fuck I'm ranting. Uh. Bye!

Also a big thank you to Avery and rex for helping me feel better (rex I've only known you for a little bit but jesus christ I fucking laugh my ass off because of you) jesus I'm sappy as fuck. (and avery your so fucking cool. You helped me alot.) And belyyvolks (I've had alot of fun messing around about ironhide XD) I'm not tagging because I don't want alot of attention on this post.

[transformersimagines]

Unforeseen Consequences 

This is the second part to "To Be Decided" I would recommend reading that first so this makes sense.

The only reason this was even written at all is because of the likes and reblogs that have me re-reading my fics and get me inspired. Thank you for enjoying my mediocre writing of my favorite genre and fandom.

“You keep eyeing the clock, got a lady meeting you tonight?” The bartender, James, comments. I chuckle before downing the rest of my drink. 

“I wish, but it's all business tonight,” I pull my wallet out and tuck some cash under my now empty glass, “Keep the change.”

“Have a good night Sir.” James waves as I walk away. It should be a good night. It's been almost 10 hours since I poisoned the target. No one has ever lasted more than 4 days before they come running back for a cure. 

The cold, night air was a welcome contrast to the stuffy heat of the bar. The one drink did help with my nerves though, this client wasn't exactly the easiest.

I scan the streets and notice the red & white Porsche parked in an alleyway across the way. The client must have seen me since the headlights flashed on and off before the car reversed into the dark alley.

“Guess we are still doing the car thing,” I comment, checking for traffic before jogging across the street to the alley. This is the second time I've met the client face-to-face, kind of. He's never gotten out of his car. It didn't really matter anyway, this guy's money was good, and that's what was important. 

“This betta’ be good.” The client states flatly. God, he always sounded annoyed or pissed off whenever we spoke, even over the phone. I eye the windshield, trying to get a better view of him. Always imagined him as a big, tough boxer, probably retired. But, as always I can't even see a silhouette through the windshield, he must get pulled over a shit ton for that tint. 

“Your target finally showed themselves yesterday, after nearly 3 months of hiding. Thought you would want to know?” I lean against the alley wall, eyeing the sidewalk and street for any passer-byers. Wouldn’t want anyone to overhear our conversation.

“Ya’ have ‘em?” He sounded less annoyed. Good.

“Not right now, but soon. They ran away in a teal and black Lambo, but not before I tagged them. I’ve got their live location streaming to this device,” I wave my phone in front of me, the tracking app open and actively pinging their location.

“Useless.” The client's lights flash on, the engine revving. Damn, this guy's brights are intense!

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I got them with my inhalant. They won't last long in hiding under its effects. I’m the only one with a cure. You’ll have the target in less than a week, I guarantee it. Everything is under control.” I explain, pushing off the wall to stand up straighter. I needed to command more respect with this guy and leaning against a wall in a dirty alleyway wasn’t cutting it.

“Ya’ had one chance, and now ya’ve made things harda’ for me.”

Fuck. This guy sounds beyond pissed. “Hold on-” 

“Enough.” The car lights turned off, leaving me struggling to focus with the sudden darkness. The sound of grinding metal. Glowing red eyes. What was going on? Something cold grabs my center and my feet are no longer on the ground.

“You failed and I’m done dealin’ with a lower life form.” 

~

“I expected at least you two to understand why I have such strict restrictions in place with Y/N more than anybot else!” Megatron scolds.

“How were we supposed to know Optimus would get a human involved?! Did you expect that?” Sunstreak cuts into the rant, arms firmly crossed. 

I was sitting on the med-bay counter, Knockout towering over me while Megatron was berating the twins across the way. Knockout was able to cure me of whatever it was that guy made me breathe in. I wasn’t shaking and coughing anymore, but my chest and throat hurt like a bitch. I rub my chest as if it could smooth the pain.

“Anything change Y/N?” Knockout asks, noticing my movement.

I look up at him and shake my head, before turning back to look at the twins. I couldn't speak, it hurt so bad and made me sound like I’ve been smoking since birth. 

“That is exactly why we have the restrictions. There is no telling what Optimus Prime will-” An alert sounded from the med-bay computer that cut Megatron off.

“Megatron. I’m picking up an aircraft fast approaching from the southwest. Confirmed Autobot signature, though I can’t pinpoint who exactly.” Starscream reports. Megatron gives the twins one final side-eye before turning his full attention to the screen. 

“Just one signature?” Megatron questions, turning his attention to the computer's controls. Knockout moves out of Megatron's way, leaving me with an unobstructed view as the screen changes to an overview map, the Nemesis in the center with another dot quickly approaching. The tension in the room rises and falls as the dot zips right over and past the Nemesis. 

“Starscream?” 

“It appears they dropped something, let me see if I can get visuals,” Starscream reports. Before anyone could say anything the screen changed to a live view of the outside, not far from the Nemesis, an area I was familiar with.

Suddenly everyone was moving at the same time. Megatron scrambled with the computer controls and Knockout moved forward to stand in between the screen and me, but it was too late.

The man that had attacked me yesterday… his body was broken and twisted into a pile on the ground. So much red... were those bones sticking out? My stomach drops and the air leaves my lungs. Above his body there was a hologram that was displaying a short message:

“See you soon, Y/N”