#I just can't deal with this right now. I fucking can't.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

No one here asked me, but Sean and I have been together for 20 years, so here's the shit I say when I DO get asked how it keeps working:

Base level, we fucking like each other. I do not buy into the "you can love someone and not like them." Fuck that. Like is what turns into love. If you are regularly thinking, "I don't like this person," the problem is that you don't like that person. Love can't fix that. Because the love you need to hold onto when you have a moment of not-liking someone can't exist if you don't first like someone.

Which brings me to point two: Kill the perfect romantic who lives in your head. You will annoy the fucking shit out of each other. It happens. For so many reasons. Learn how to say, "Honey, I love you, but I can't deal with this right now." And, for the record, the proper response is "Okay. Got it." not turning it into a whole fucking thing. Yes, it's very romantic to not get tired of someone. But it's much more realistic to be able to say, "Honey, please leave me alone for twenty minutes," and it's must healthier for the other person to go, "Oh, okay! Love you!" / "Love you, too."

Accept that sometimes you're gonna need to fight it out. With this caveat: If it's the same fight over and over again, that's a fucking problem. If it's a fight over the same topic, but you're on a different point in the topic, you're probably okay. For example: If I said, "Honey, please hang up your towel to dry so it doesn't grow mold," and Sean never hung it up, so we kept going round about it, that's a problem. But if I said it, and Sean DID hang it up, but it needed to be spread out, then that's a different thing. "Hey, thanks for hanging up your towel; please make sure it's spread out on the rack so it dries properly."

Also, be flexible about things you ask for. We have a general rule that whoever opens the dishwasher the first time after the dishes are cleaned has to empty the whole thing. But also, if Sean's running late the morning after we do dishes, I'm not going to call him and complain he didn't empty the dishwasher when he opened it to get a fork.

Think of all of this like the fridge making a weird noise. Most of the time, the fridge makes a noise you don't even register because that's the fridge noise. But sometimes, the fridge make a new noise and WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. That's how I think of relationship work. Most of the time, it's just work that gets done in the day-to-day shit. But occasionally, something is OFF and needs immediate attention, so you need to stop and pay attention and fix it.

But also, after your fix the problem, you need to be accept that maybe there are new noises that need to be inspected. For example, if Sean said to me, "Hey, I need thirty minutes after work to myself when I get home," this would be a new thing, but yes, okay. I will do my best. And I will. But maybe I forget the rule because I have something I NEED to tell him that isn't actually a NEED, and so I greet him at the door with a monologue, and he lets me monologue, and at the end he says, "Okay, that's interesting. But I would still like my thirty minutes. I will talk to you after I've had that." He's understanding that I'm doing my best and still reinforcing the boundary I agreed to. What I can do in this situation is thank him for listening and give him his time and try not to jump him with information again because he has made it clear twice that he doesn't want that.

The trick about doing your best, respecting boundaries, and loving one another is truly just doing your best because you love each other. I want a good life. I want Sean to have a good life. We want a life together. We will build a good life by being honest, communicative, and kind to one another. I fold laundry for us both not because I think it's my role as the "wife" but because it's a way to get me on my feet for a few minutes. Sean does the cooking because he enjoys it. I generally handle the dishwasher because he cooks. He gets the car to the mechanic to get the oil changed. I take Bean on her second walk when his day runs long. Do I WANT to take her out? Not always. But I've been at home with an office job all day, not driving around the city to do a physical job. Taking her out for her second walk may annoy me, but the payoff is that Sean comes home and is so happy that he doesn't have to do it and thanks me, and that's what makes it worth it. We acknowledge each other when effort occurs. We make each other laugh. We talk through things. We understand the importance of being able to say, "No, I'm not into it, but you like it, so please keep explaining it." and "Honey, I love you, but I can't do this right now."

It's really just understanding that good communication means folding in the idea that good communication includes saying things you might think you shouldn't have to say. Trust me, saying it means cutting down on the bullshit of not having said it. Say awkward shit to each other. Announce you're doing it. "Hey, this is gonna sound awkward, but I need to say it" because the response from the person you love (in every version of love) should be, "I'm listening. Let's go" because it's about mutual support and care and LIKING one another. And all you gotta do is give back what you deserve to get.

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit-pt.vi

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi

summary: Sibling fights, pool parties, and drunk college kids. What could go wrong?

word count: 11.4k

warnings: drinking, mentions of drug use, implications of sexual assault (does not happen)

a/n: My plans for this chapter changed a lot from any q&a’s I’ve answered….Thank you for being patient! Hope you enjoy😌 If anyone is in LA or has loved ones there I hope you’re all safe 💜

————

“So what’s his name?”

Hunter turns to you with a raised brow, “Are we really doing this?”

After Aliyah’s suggestion—that was more an order to go to UCLA, you found yourself driving to the acclaimed university. You check the rear view mirror and confirm that the two sisters are knocked out (as it’s now 9pm) before you answer Hunter.

“Well yeah? You know about my Viper situation brewing back there,” you roll your eyes with a laugh quoting his exact words from earlier. “Come onnn!” you whine.

“Oh so you do admit there’s a situation,” Hunter fires back, clearly trying to regain the upper hand. But you hold your ground, unfazed by his teasing—a skill you’ve definitely honed over the course of this road trip. He groans but you can see the blush creeping on his face at the mention of his forbidden lover. “Fine his name is Fielder.”

“Hmm weird name. So you guys dating or is it just sex?” you say getting straight to the point.

“Dude!”

“What! I saw the toothbrush in your bathroom,” you smile. “I’m happy for you man. If you want to be with him or whatever.”

“I-I don’t know," he hesitates. "I really like him, but he’s a Viper and you know what that means."

You glance at him, then take one hand off the wheel to give his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Time to take your own advice, buddy,” you say, your voice steady. “Remember what you told me back then?

‘That’s half the thrill.’

‘When have you ever avoided doing something just because it’s not allowed?’

Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your own words of wisdom.”

Hunter exhales, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he mumbles, but you can see the gears turning in his head.

"Dating is different when you get older," he shares after a moment of silence. "You don't really want to mess around with the forbidden just for the fuck of it. It's like the real deal now," he sighs. "Have your fun while you can, because it doesn't last forever."

You take a moment to really absorb Hunter's words. Was he implying that Jenna was just a phase in your life? Something forbidden you were testing out for the thrill of it? You’re almost certain he didn’t mean it that way, but you hate that he planted the thought in your head. Because you knew for a fact that you never saw Jenna as a fleeting moment. An act of rebellion or someone to mess around with.

The thought shakes you, and the weight of your emotions for the girl asleep in the backseat begins to sink in. It terrifies you—realizing just how much she truly means to you.

You weren’t in the mood for a deep, philosophical conversation right now, so you deflected with some light banter instead. “You’re not that much older than me, what—four, five years tops?”

“Eight,” Hunter deadpans, followed by a dry laugh. “And here I am, heading to a college town to party like I’m still eighteen,” he mutters, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

"Whoa party? Who said anything about partying?" you ask confused.

"Come on, you can't expect us to go to UCLA for the weekend—mind you exam season just finished. And you don't want us to party?"

"There is possibly a drug cartel hunting us down...and you want to party?"

"Yup," he answers, popping the P with an unbothered grin.

————

"Please tell me we're there," Aliyah yawns, stretching her arms out above her. "I can't stand another moment in this car."

"Technically it's an SUV," you mutter under your breath, earning a tired glare from the backseat. "But yeah, we’re almost there. Where am I headed?"

"Hold on let me text Markus real quick."

Again with that name. Before you could flip your mind over wondering who this guy was, you hear Jenna stir in the backseat, her voice groggy as she asked Aliyah, "how long was I out?"

Okay new obsession: Jenna's tired voice. It made your heart do a little flip.

Hunter looks over at you and he rolls his eyes. Why you still deny the fact that you have feelings for this girl is beyond him. He wanted to smack you across the face and ask you if you thought it was normal to get worked up over someone's sleepy voice. It was evident in the way your eyebrows jumped and the stupid smile on your lips. You obviously had feelings for the girl and everyone but you and Jenna could see it.

"Okay Y/n go to 350 De Neve drive," Aliyah shares upon getting the address.

You still had no idea where you were going, but you give a nod to Hunter to put in the address the girl gave.

Finally, not being able to stand it anymore, you ask the question that's been annoying you for the last two hours. "Who's Markus?"

“Our brother,” Jenna answers, glancing up at the rearview mirror where your eyes have been lingering throughout the whole drive.

Her sleepy voice almost distracted you from what she just said. Oh. That explains a lot. Silly old you getting jealous over nothing. Markus was their damn brother. You smile and nod. "Ahh okay, I see."

"What's with the smile Y/l/n?" Hunter teases you, knowing exactly why.

You don't respond and shoot him a side eye. "So is this a younger or older brother?"

"He's my twin," Aliyah mumbles, her attention stolen by something on her phone.

That didn't answer your question. But you still decide to engage in some small talk with Jenna just because you can, and totally not because you wanted to hear more of her tired voice.

"So are you the youngest Jenna?"

This time, Aliyah takes her eyes off her phone and bursts out laughing.

"Pffft—please! I’m dead!" she howls, clearly finding your question hilarious.

"Am I the youngest?" Jenna bites back, her tired voice now laced with a touch of sass. The combination is absolutely killer, and for a split second, you forget how to breathe. But your brain catches up quickly, and you realize you might have more pressing issues to worry about.

"Have you thought all this time that Aliyah is older than me?" she adds, her eyes narrowing playfully at the rearview mirror.

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. “Wait, what? I—uhh—well, yeah, kind of?” You try to backpedal, feeling your face flush slightly. "I mean, she seems older."

Aliyah bursts into laughter again, practically doubling over in the back seat. "Oh my god, I can't believe you thought that! You really think I'm the older one?"

Jenna shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Nope. I’m their older sister."

Your eyes widen, and you glance over at Jenna, who looks far too small to be the older sibling. “But… you’re so tiny?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Jenna raises an eyebrow, her tired eyes turning into what you think is an amused glare. "Excuse me? Tiny?"

You instantly regret your words, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I mean, you’re just… small compared to Aliyah! I thought she was the older one.”

It was now Hunter's turn to place a hand on your shoulder. "Please shut up before she starts ignoring you again."

————

“Marki-poo!” Aliyah coos running towards a guy that stood quite taller than her with dark hair.

It was around half past nine when you all finally arrived at what you now learned to be Markus’ dorm building.

While the sisters reunited with their brother, you and Hunter climbed out of the SUV that was parked on the road, both of you stretching to shake off the stiffness of hours on the freeway. The cool night air was refreshing, but your attention quickly drifted to Markus. As your eyes flicked toward him, you froze mid-stretch.

Holy shit. He was the spitting image of Jenna. Same piercing eyes, same sharp jawline, and even a similar smile. It was uncanny, and for a moment, you felt like the universe was playing some cosmic joke, doubling down on how much one family could mess with your head.

Before you could ruminate further, Markus noticed you and Hunter lingering by the SUV and waved. His grin widened as he called out, “Hey! You must be Y/n and Hunter. Aliyah and Jenna wouldn’t shut up about you guys over text.”

Aliyah rolled her eyes, while Jenna shot him a wide glare.

You blinked, caught off guard by his friendly tone. “Uh, yeah, that’s us,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you walked over.

“I bet you must love the freedom being away from home," Jenna asks out of the blue while she gazes around the campus mindlessly soaking everything in.

Her voice drew your gaze like a magnet, and for a split second, you forgot anyone else was there.

What was going on with you? Why was her voice making you feel all strange? It wasn't like this before, and even if it was you were at least able to hide it.

Hunter cleared his throat, clearly enjoying your inability to stay cool around Jenna.

“So, what’s the plan?” Hunter asked, breaking the tension.

Markus gestured toward the dorm building. “I’ve got room for all of you to crash if you’re staying the night. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but it beats sleeping in the car.”

Aliyah clapped her hands together, grinning. “Perfect! Let’s get inside. I need to pee, and I’m not doing it in some random gas station bathroom.”

As everyone started heading toward the entrance with their packed bags, Jenna fell into step beside you. Her shoulder brushed yours, and even though it was likely unintentional, it sent your heart racing.

“Thanks for bringing us here,” she said quietly, her voice soft but sincere. “I know this whole trip is a lot. But we haven’t seen Markus in forever.”

You glanced at her, momentarily caught off guard by the genuine gratitude in her tone. “It not that bad,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Besides, it’s not like I had much of a choice.”

Jenna smirked, the corners of her lips tugging upward in a way that made your chest tighten. “Fair enough.”

As the group disappeared through the dorm’s entrance, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was far from over—and that Markus wasn’t the only surprise waiting for you at UCLA.

————

"We need to set them up."

The group makes their trek to Markus' dorm, with the twins up at front, Hunter following in the middle, and Jenna and you walking side by side in the back.

Aliyah decides that she needs to take the reigns for this weekend and enlist her brother's help for something that needs to be done.

"Jenna and Y/n?" He asks, turning back to look at you both.

"—Don't look at them!" she snaps slapping her brother on the arm. "You can't make it obvious."

Markus just looks at her dumbfounded.

“Those two are so into each other, it’s painful to watch. They need to just make out already or something! I’m losing my mind over here.”

“Make out?” Markus repeats, his voice incredulous.

“Yes! Or, like, hold hands—anything! I’m sick of the constant eye-fucking!” she whisper-yells, gesturing dramatically.

“Eye-fucking?”

��Yes, Markus, eye-fucking!” Aliyah says, her tone exasperated as if explaining basic math to a toddler. “Now, what can we do to speed this along? How do college kids even date these days?”

"Uhm I don't know...they meet in class, ask for their snap, or they meet at parties—"

"That's it!" Aliyah shrieks in excitement before she quickly clasps her hand over her mouth, worried she was too loud. "Please tell me there's a party going on tonight?"

"Tonight?" Markus whispers back. "Come on sis, don't you think we should let them relax or something? We can figure this out tomorrow."

"Tonight Markus." She repeats sternly. Markus knew better than to defy his persistent sister. He sighs, "Yeah I know of one."

"Perfect!”

————

"Absolutely the fuck not Aliyah! Are you crazy?!"

The group finally made it to the dorm in one piece, and much to your relief, the tuition prices definitely matched the size of the dorms. It seemed like there was enough space for all five of you, and the best part? Markus had no roommate. Score.

After Aliyah rushes in to use the bathroom, you follow suit, eager to freshen up. You can hear a bit of commotion from the room—the sounds of people getting settled in, and some oddly loud talking—but you think nothing of it. That is, until you step out of the bathroom to the unmistakable sound of shouting.

You freeze.

Jenna and Aliyah are going at it, voices raised and words flying in a heated argument. Whatever was happening, it was definitely not a friendly sibling exchange.

"Oh my god," the younger sister drawls, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's just a party, why not?"

You remain at the door, not daring to take a step forward. Your eyes turn to Jenna, waiting for her response. Her eyebrow twitches and she suddenly smiles, but there's no humour behind it. "Why not?"

"Why not, Aliyah?" she responds, her voice dangerously calm. "Why not?"

She takes a step forward, her tone growing colder, sharper.

"Just because—"

Just because what?" Jenna interrupts. "Just because I’m the one who had to step up and pull you out of that mess?"

You notice Aliyah's deameanour slightly falter. Her lips slightly frowning.

"You think I like this shit? You wanna make the same mistakes again, just because you want to go to some stupid college party!" Jenna continues.

You, Markus, and Hunter exchange nervous glances, unsure of when to intervene without getting caught in the crossfire.

"I didn’t ask you to do that for me!" Aliyah finally gets out, her voice rising with defiance.

Jenna’s expression hardens, her words cutting through the air like a knife.

"Yeah, you’re right. You didn’t. But Dad did," Jenna spits the words out, her voice growing more heated with every syllable. "And I had no choice but to put my life on hold and pick up the pieces of your mess. So don’t act like it’s nothing. Don’t you dare act like I’m overreacting, Aliyah. You think I want to keep doing this? You think I want to keep cleaning up after you?"

Holy shit, how much did you miss while in the bathroom? Everything was fine just a few moments ago, how things escalated so fast baffled you.

"Fuck you," Aliyah spits out, her voice trembling as her glossy eyes reflect the anger and hurt beneath the surface. She storms past you, brushing your shoulder, and disappears out of the dorm room before anyone can stop her.

As you’re left standing awkwardly near the door, your eyes instinctively flick to Jenna, who’s still fuming, her chest rising and falling with each sharp breath. She looks like she’s barely holding it together.

But before you can even think about what to do, you notice Hunter and Markus already moving toward her. Hunter places a tentative hand on Jenna’s shoulder, his voice soft as he tries to calm her down. Markus, standing nearby, looks just as lost for words but ready to step in if needed.

Your gaze lingers on Jenna for a moment longer, watching the tension in her jaw and the way she refuses to let her emotions fully break through. Part of you wants to stay, to say something, to comfort her—but it’s clear she’s not alone. Hunter and Markus are already there for her.

The decision was obvious. With a deep breath, you step out into the hallway, following after Aliyah.

You can still hear the muffled voices of Hunter and Markus trying to talk Jenna down as you close the door behind you, leaving the tension of the dorm room behind. But even as you head down the hall, your mind keeps replaying Jenna’s words, the raw emotion in her voice, and the hurt etched into Aliyah’s face.

You sigh, shaking your head. This weekend’s already off to one hell of a start.

————

"Holy shit Aliyah! Slow down would you!" you shout after her as you see her enter the elevator.

You barely make it in time before the doors shut and you're panting while the girl remains silent, as you both wait for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

Neither of you say anything. She walks on the side walk away from the building and you follow a step behind her. There were other students out at this time, it wasn't too late—only around 10pm now. After some more aimless walking she finally plops down on a bench under a streetlight.

You linger for a moment before cautiously sitting down beside her, keeping a bit of space between you. She says nothing, and for a while, you both just sit there, the faint buzz of campus life in the background.

Finally, you break the silence. "Aliyah… you okay?"

She scoffs, wiping at her eyes quickly. "Do I look okay?" Her voice is sharp, but there’s no real venom behind it.

You don’t answer right away, watching her instead. "No," you admit softly. "You don’t. But… do you want to talk about it?"

You hear her sniffle and you turn to face her. She's wiping her eyes now with a sad smile on her face. "I don't even know why I'm crying, she's not wrong you know?"

"I doubt that's true," you offer gently. "She's just worried of losing you. Or seeing you make choices that could...you know, hurt you," you suggest, recalling the information you heard in the argument earlier.

"She didn’t say anything I didn’t already know. But hearing her say it—it hurts. She didn’t have to throw that in my face."

You nod slowly, understanding dawning. "You mean about the Vipers?"

Her head snaps toward you, eyes narrowing. "She told you?"

"No," you say quickly, raising your hands in defense. "She didn’t. That’s her story to tell, and I guess she’ll tell me when she’s ready. But… it’s not hard to figure out that there’s more to this than just a party."

The crying girl clears her throat before leaning back into the bench. “She could’ve told you. She probably didn’t tell you for my sake.”

You tilt your head confused, giving Aliyah your full attention.

“You’ll have to know this anyways if you’re going to date my sister and shut up I don’t wanna hear it. Let me explain.”

You laugh at her comment. How she knew you’d deny potentially dating her sister. But sensing the seriousness of the topic you zip your lips and listen, waiting for your long awaited questions to be answered.

“I’m sure you’ve gathered by now that Jenna is with the Vipers because of me.”

You softly nod.

“A few years ago,” she sighs recalling the night.

————

Aliyah was buzzing, the world around her a kaleidoscope of music, neon lights, and laughter. The bass thumped through her veins as she swayed to the beat, a red plastic cup in her hand. She wasn’t entirely sure what was in it—something strong, something that burned on the way down. Her "friends" had handed it to her earlier with a wink and a “just try it.”

It wasn’t her first party, but it was her first big one. College kids, flashy cars parked outside, and a house way too nice for a bunch of teenagers to be trashing. Percy had been the one to invite her, his charming smile making it seem like she’d be missing out on the event of the year if she didn’t show up.

“Aliyah!” Percy’s voice cut through the music. She turned, almost stumbling as the alcohol hit her harder than expected. He stood there, grinning, a bottle of something expensive-looking in one hand. “Having fun?”

“Yeah!” she replied, her words slightly slurred.

“Good, good,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder and steering her toward a quieter corner of the house. “Hey, you gotta try this.”

Aliyah blinked at the small pill he held out to her. “What is it?”

“Just something to help you relax,” he said, his voice smooth and reassuring. “Everyone’s doing it. No big deal.”

Normally, she would’ve said no. Normally, she wouldn’t have even been at a party like this. But the alcohol dulled her judgment, and Percy’s grin made it seem harmless. She hesitated for only a moment before taking the pill and swallowing it with a sip from her cup.

The next few hours were a blur. Colors seemed brighter, music louder, and her body lighter. She laughed at things that weren’t funny and danced until her legs felt like jelly. At some point, Percy led her upstairs, saying she needed to “rest.” She remembered collapsing onto a plush bed, her head spinning, and Percy’s shadow lingering in the doorway.

When she woke up the next morning, her phone was buzzing with texts from Jenna. But it was Percy’s smirk and the way he casually mentioned “having some footage” of her wild night that made her stomach drop.

“You wouldn’t want your dad seeing this, would you?” he’d said with a mockingly sweet tone.

That night changed everything.

————

"Hold on—did that asshole fucking—" you begin to demand, your voice low but trembling with barely contained fury. Your fists clench instinctively, already mapping out how you were gonna beat Percy's ass.

"No! No," she insists, her voice steadying as she places a hand on your arm, as if to keep you tethered. "Thank God, no. But..." Her gaze drops to the ground, shame flickering across her face. "Turns out it was a Viper party, he had footage of me taking whatever it was he gave me. And—" She swallows hard, her voice barely above a whisper, "he planted stuff on me too. Drugs. Enough to ruin everything if anyone found out."

The weight of her words sinks in, and your anger twists into something darker—colder. "That slimy, manipulative piece of shit," you mutter, pacing a few steps away before turning back to her. "He set you up."

Aliyah nods, hugging her arms to herself as if trying to shield herself from the memory.

"Sorry if this comes of rather insensitive but rich kid doing drugs doesn't really strike me as a headline. You see that shit everyday. Would it really have ruined everything?"

"My Dad's a dick. He didn't want it effecting his company. And unfortunately in his world it's a big deal." She pauses before continuing, "Percy just wanted leverage. Something to use against Dad." Her voice breaks, and she exhales shakily. "Dad handled it, but..."

"But that’s when Jenna got pulled into this mess," you finish for her, the realization hitting like a freight train.

Aliyah nods again, her eyes glassy. "Yeah. Dad made her join the Vipers to keep an eye on Percy and make sure he kept his word. But it wasn’t just that." She hesitates, biting her lip before continuing. "Jenna found out Percy made her joining the crew part of his deal. Like he wanted to make sure he had control over us both. And Dad said yes without hesitation."

The depth of Percy’s manipulation and the selfishness of the girls' father makes your stomach churn. You no longer felt any guilt for stealing that assholes car.

"And Jenna agreed?" you ask quietly, already knowing the answer.

"She didn’t have a choice," Aliyah whispers, her voice cracking. "Dad wouldn’t let me take the fall, and Jenna...she’s too loyal. She put herself in the line of fire for me."

You sink onto the bench beside her, running a hand through your hair as the weight of it all settles in. "Aliyah...this isn’t your fault," you say softly, though you’re not sure if you’re convincing her or yourself.

"It feels like it is," she murmurs, staring at her hands. "If I hadn’t been so stupid that night—"

"Stop." Your tone is firm but gentle. "Percy’s the one who’s to blame here. He’s the asshole who exploited you and dragged Jenna into this mess. Not you."

She doesn’t respond, but the way her shoulders shake tells you she’s trying to hold back tears. You reach out, hesitating for a moment before placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We’ll figure this out, Aliyah. We have the leverage we need. We’ll get Jenna out of this. I promise."

For the first time since the argument, she looks at you, her eyes glistening with vulnerability. "You mean that?"

"More than anything."

The two of you sit in silence after the night’s heavy revelations. It’s not awkward—if anything, it feels like the silence is exactly what you both need. As you sit on the bench, you watch students pass by in the soft glow of the campus lights. Some walk alone, weighed down by heavy backpacks and heavier thoughts. Others are carefree, laughing and chatting with friends, their steps light as air. A few move with quiet confidence, calm and steady.

You wonder, not for the first time, what your life might have been like if you hadn’t been born in Brimstone. Would you have been one of these students? What version of you would have existed here, unburdened by everything that came with your hometown?

“I guess…I can see why your sister was upset,” you say finally, breaking the silence.

Aliyah doesn’t respond right away, but she nods, the motion just visible from the corner of your eye.

“But,” you add with a small smile, “that was two years ago. You deserve another chance.” You turn to her, flashing a grin. “And besides, you’ve got me, Hunter, and Markus watching your back now.” You flex your arms dramatically. “No idea about those two, but nothing gets past me.”

She snorts, a laugh bubbling up despite herself. “Please, put those away. You’re going to embarrass us both.”

Her laughter softens, and when she turns to you, there’s a seriousness in her expression that catches you off guard. “I really hope it works out between you and my sister,” she says quietly.

The words hit you harder than you expect, leaving you momentarily speechless. It’s still complicated—still messy. But something about Aliyah’s vulnerability tonight makes it easier to let the thought cross your mind, even if you can’t voice it aloud.

For now, you settle for the truth that feels safest to admit, even if only to yourself.

I hope so too.

————

You’re greeted by the sight of the Ortega sisters wrapped in a tight embrace near the curb. Their voices are low, but the murmured apologies and soft laughter carry in the quiet night.

Jenna’s voice breaks through, her tone unusually tender. “No, I should’ve given you a chance. I didn’t have to be so mean, Aliyah. I’m sorry.”

Aliyah sniffles, her own voice equally apologetic. “I was wrong too. I should’ve listened to you. You’re just trying to look out for me.”

The rest of you—Hunter, Markus, and yourself—watch the heartwarming spectacle from the bench you were on moments ago with Aliyah. You exchange incredulous looks, eyebrows raised in unison.

“They’re hugging,” you point out, still processing.

“Like…full-on hugging,” Markus adds, as if needing confirmation.

Hunter leans back, crossing his arms. “I don’t know what’s more shocking—the fact that they stopped yelling or that they’re acting like this never happened.”

You snort, shaking your head. It’s kind of funny, really, how quickly they’ve gone from shouting to sobbing on each other’s shoulders. You glance at Hunter and Markus, a knowing thought crossing your mind. Just like your talk with Aliyah, it’s clear they must’ve said something to Jenna. Whatever it was, it worked, and you’re quietly grateful for it.

“They’re like a Netflix drama,” Markus muses. “Big fight in episode nine, full reconciliation by episode ten.”

Hunter chuckles. “They’re efficient, I’ll give them that.”

You smile to yourself, watching the sisters. It’s a relief to see them like this, to see the tension replaced with understanding. For all their differences, their bond is unshakable, and tonight, that’s clearer than ever.

“Efficient’s good,” you remark softly. “We could all use a little more of that.”

The three of you fall into a comfortable silence, still seated on the bench, content to let the moment play out. It’s been a long day, but for the first time in hours, it feels like everything might just turn out okay.

Your thoughts drift as the sisters continue to talk, the quiet laughter between them like the perfect breeze after a tense day. The closest you’ve ever had to something like that is Anton. It’s not quite the same—he isn’t your sibling, not by blood anyway, but he’s always been there, filling that role.

And yet, you and Anton aren’t like Jenna and Aliyah. When you two fight, it doesn’t end with quick apologies or mutual understanding. No, you’ve gone days without speaking. Weeks, even. Your disagreements have never been about anything as heavy as the sisters’ fight tonight, but they’ve been passionate all the same—mostly about the club.

You can still hear Anton’s voice in your head during your last big blow-up a few months ago—long before you met Jenna. “You think you’re above this? You think you’re better than the rest of us?” His words had stung, but so had your response. You’d called him reckless, accused him of not understanding your hesitations about racing, about the club, about everything it represented.

Looking back, you know you were both too stubborn to see the other’s perspective. And while things eventually smoothed over—like they always did—you can’t help but wonder if there’s still some lingering tension under the surface, something neither of you has addressed. And ever since that day he jokingly pulled that gun on you, ironically things have been calm. He probably thinks you're establishing yourself in the crew, and you don't know what to tell him.

Watching the sisters now, you feel a pang of envy. They’ve fought, sure, but they’ve also made their way back to each other in a way that feels effortless. You wonder if you and Anton could ever find that same ease, or if the unspoken disagreements between you will always weigh down your bond.

Hunter nudges you out of your thoughts. “You okay over there?”

You nod, shaking off the memory. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“About?”

You glance at the sisters, their shared laughter filling the night air. “How nice it must be to make up that fast,” you say simply.

Markus chimes in. “Don’t get too used to it. This is a rare sight.”

You laugh lightly, but the thought lingers. Maybe, just maybe, you and Anton could find that kind of understanding someday.

The sisters finally break their embrace and walk toward you, their expressions a mix of relief and mischief. Aliyah, ever the wildcard, claps her hands together and grins.

“Well, now that we’re done being dramatic, who’s ready to party?”

You glance at Jenna, who offers a small, almost shy smile, and then at Hunter and Markus. Surprisingly, no one objects. After the emotionally charged evening, maybe letting loose doesn’t sound so bad.

“Alright, let’s do it,” Hunter says, standing and stretching his arms.

As you all head back toward the dorm building, Markus throws a casual comment over his shoulder. “Hope you all packed swimsuits.”

The group collectively freezes, exchanging bewildered glances.

“Swimsuits?” Aliyah asks, narrowing her eyes.

Markus turns to smirk at her. “It’s a pool party. Did I not mention that?”

Your brain short-circuits. A pool party? Swimwear? Holy crap. Jenna in a bikini? You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your face turning an embarrassing shade of red.

Oh god, what if she looks over here? you panic internally. Play it cool. Act normal. Breathe.

But the thought of Jenna, all confident and effortlessly beautiful, lounging poolside or—nope, nope, abort mission. You’re pretty sure your gay panic is written all over your face, and you try to busy yourself with looking anywhere but at her.

“Y/n?” Jenna’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts.

You snap your head toward her, your voice coming out a little too loud. “What? Yes! Pool party! Great idea. Love it.”

Jenna raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your overenthusiasm. “Uh-huh,” she says, her lips quirking into a small smile.

Aliyah gives you a knowing smirk but thankfully doesn’t say anything, and the group continues walking. You tug your shirt over your face, hoping to disappear into it.

————

"Why did you pack so many bikinis?" Jenna asks looking into her sister's duffel bag. 

"I had a feeling that something like this would happen," Aliyah mutters, her full attention on the swim suit she’s holding up in front of her.

The top is a classic triangle style with thin straps that tie around the neck and back, offering a simple yet sultry design. The cups are just enough to leave something to the imagination while perfectly accentuating curves. The bottoms—equally bold.

Jenna's eyes narrow at the sight. "You're wearing that?"

"Nope. You are."

The older Ortega looked at her sister like she just said the most insane words known to man. "What?"

"You heard me. You're wearing it."

Jenna snorts, crossing her arms. "Not in this lifetime."

"Oh, come on!" Aliyah groans, dangling the bikini in front of Jenna like a carrot on a stick. "It’s cute, it’ll look amazing on you, and it’s a pool party. You’ll blend right in."

Jenna glares at her sister, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, because nothing says ‘blending in’ like wearing half an outfit."

Aliyah rolls her eyes, unbothered. "You’ll thank me when you’re the center of attention. Besides..." She leans in, lowering her voice just enough to add some drama. "I’m pretty sure a certain someone would love to see you in this."

Jenna’s face flushes instantly. She hated that she actually considered wearing it for a second.

She snatches the bikini from Aliyah’s hand and tosses it on the bed before her sister can say another word. "You’re impossible."

Aliyah beams triumphantly. "You'll be thanking me later."

————

Outside, you finish getting dressed, opting for a simple look. You stick with your black sports bra and borrow a pair of pink swim shorts from Hunter, not giving much thought to your outfit. With a casual shrug, you figure it’s good enough.

As you adjust the waistband of the shorts, Hunter glances down at your stomach, his eyes lingering a beat too long on your toned abs. He smirks and quips, "Someone’s definitely gonna appreciate those."

You roll your eyes, ignoring the comment as your face heats up slightly. Pulling on your zip-up hoodie, you tug it closed halfway, hoping to downplay any attention.

Hunter chuckles softly, clearly amused by your reaction.

Before you can retaliate, Markus strolls over, sighing dramatically as he collapses onto the edge of his bed. He looks at you with exaggerated seriousness, steepling his fingers like some kind of TV detective.

"I think, as a brother, I have to do this," Markus begins, his tone solemn but with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I’ve always done this with the guys Aliyah’s been into, so it only feels right to extend the same courtesy for Jenna."

Your stomach drops. Oh no. Is this really happening?

Markus straightens, folding his arms like a dad interrogating his daughter’s date. "What are your intentions with my sister?"

You freeze, blinking at him in horror. "What?"

Hunter chuckles, clearly finding this entire situation hilarious as he leans casually against the wall to watch the show.

"You heard me," Markus presses, his expression still annoyingly serious. "Jenna’s my sister. I need to know you’re not playing games. So, what are your intentions?"

You gulp, the words catching in your throat. You glance at Hunter for backup, but he just shrugs with a grin, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

"I…" you start, feeling your face grow hotter by the second. You will yourself to stay calm, refusing to let the teasing get to you. "Jenna’s… she’s important to me. I’m not leading her on, if that’s what you’re worried about."

Markus raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied.

Do you have to admit in this very moment that you maybe kind of like his sister...?

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Look, I don’t really know where we stand right now, but I care about her—a lot. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her."

Markus studies you for a moment longer before breaking into a grin. "Okay, that’s acceptable. For now."

"For now?" you echo, incredulous but Markus is already getting up, stretching like he just completed some monumental task.

"Yeah. Just remember, I’ll be watching." He winks at you before heading back to his side of the room.

"What are we watching?" Aliyah's voice suddenly booms, startling you.

You whip your head around at the speed of lightning, and of course your eyes lock onto Jenna's. Thank god she had the same idea as you and wore a jumper over whatever her swim outfit was so you couldn't tell what she was wearing.

Still, your stomach knots. Shit. Did Jenna hear you talking about her?

"Nothing," you mutter to Aliyah, trying to sound casual, though the heat creeping up your neck says otherwise. "Are we ready to go?"

As you glance back at Jenna, you realize she’s watching you intently. Her gaze lingers a little too long, her head tilted ever so slightly, as if she’s piecing something together. You feel your skin flush under her scrutiny, suddenly hyper-aware of her presence.

Then, just as you think you might combust from the tension, a slow, amused smile breaks across her face. Her eyes flick downward, and you follow her gaze to�� oh god. The stupidly bright pink shorts Hunter lent you.

"Nice look," Jenna quips, her voice light and teasing.

Your hands instinctively tug at the hem of your hoodie, trying to shield as much of the shorts as possible. "Yeah, well… they’re functional."

"Functional," she echoes, her grin widening. "Sure."

Aliyah raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. "Alright, lovebirds," she says, rolling her eyes. "Let’s get going before the party’s over."

As the group starts heading out, you walk ahead, desperate to escape Jenna’s knowing smirk. But you can’t help glancing back just once, catching her still smiling at you, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something else you can’t quite name.

————

Courtesy of Markus' Uber app, the driver slows to a stop, and you all step out, craning your necks to take in the towering building before you. The sleek glass facade gleams under the city lights, exuding wealth and extravagance.

"Jesus," Hunter breathes, his jaw practically hitting the sidewalk. "Is this a college party or a Kardashian party?"

You find yourself mirroring his wide-eyed expression. "This is… a lot," you mutter.

Markus grins. "Nah, it’s just a kid in my class. He’s cool. His family’s super rich, though."

You nod absently, but the information doesn’t exactly calm your nerves. As you stare at the building, a sudden wave of discomfort washes over you. Will it be obvious that you don’t belong here? The thought crosses your mind and stubbornly lingers, gnawing at the edges of your confidence.

You glance at Hunter, half-expecting him to share your unease, but no—he’s practically bouncing on his toes, his excitement palpable. Of course, he’d thrive in an environment like this.

Before you know it, you’re all piling into the elevator, Aliyah confidently hitting the button for the penthouse. The mirrored walls reflect your group back at you, and you take a steadying breath, trying to shake off the impostor syndrome creeping in.

As the elevator ascends, you feel a gentle tug on your sleeve. You glance down to see Jenna looking up at you, concern etched in her features.

"You okay?" she whispers, her voice soft enough that only you can hear.

You blink, caught off guard. "Huh? Yeah, I’m fine," you reply quickly, though the words feel hollow.

"You’ve been quiet," she presses, her eyes scanning your face. "You were lively during the ride, but now… it’s like you flipped a switch."

Her observation catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. It’s not often someone notices these shifts in you—let alone calls them out.

"I guess I’m just… a little overwhelmed," you admit finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jenna’s lips curve into a small, understanding smile. "Don’t worry," she says, her hand brushing against yours briefly in reassurance. "You’re with us. You belong here."

Her words hang in the air as the elevator dings, signaling your arrival at the penthouse. The doors slide open, revealing a lavish space filled with music, laughter, and an intoxicating air of luxury.

You step out, Jenna’s quiet reassurance still echoing in your mind, and try to believe it.

You barely have time to process the fleeting warmth of Jenna’s hand brushing against yours before a guy—presumably the host—beelines toward your group, a wide, sloppy grin plastered on his face.

“Markus! You made it, bro!” he slurs, his sunglasses tilted crookedly on his nose, a solo cup in each hand. One is filled with something neon green, the other an alarming shade of blue, and neither looks remotely safe to drink. You take him in quickly—barefoot, dripping wet, and leaving a sizable puddle in his wake. The guy clearly just climbed out of the massive pool that stretches across the center of the penthouse and doesn’t seem to care one bit about the water ruining the hardwood floors.

While Markus greets him with a laugh and a hearty handshake, you take the opportunity to glance around. The penthouse is sprawling—easily larger than half the homes on your street combined. The walls are painted a deep, moody purple, accented by dim, neon lighting that shifts colors in rhythm with the heavy bass of the music. The furniture screams luxury, from the sleek leather couches to the glass coffee tables littered with half-empty cups, discarded towels, and the occasional misplaced phone.

The centerpiece of the room, though, is undoubtedly the pool. It’s an indoor marvel, its edges lined with glowing tiles that cast an ethereal blue light across the entire space. The water ripples as people dive in or lounge at the edges, drinks in hand. Some are modestly dressed in one-pieces or board shorts, while others push the limits of decency, their swimwear leaving little to the imagination.

The energy in the room is wild, chaotic, and undeniably alluring. You can’t help but feel a little out of place amidst the atmosphere, but there’s also a strange pull to it—a curiosity about what the night might hold.

As Markus continues his lively conversation with the host, Aliyah nudges your arm, drawing your attention. “Anyone catch your attention?" she wiggles her eyebrows while looking around the penthouse.

Thankfully Jenna didn't hear the question and you don't answer. You glance over at Jenna, who’s taking in the chaos with a cool, unreadable expression. She seems completely at ease, as if she’s seen this kind of thing a hundred times before.

Finally, the host turns his attention to the rest of your group, his bleary eyes landing on Jenna. “And who are you?” he slurs, grinning like every rich boy stereotype rolled into one. He awkwardly stacks one solo cup into the other—both already full of whatever questionable concoctions he’s drinking. The liquid sloshes over the sides and onto the floor, and you can’t help but think, Damn, it’s gonna suck for whoever has to clean this up tomorrow.

He adjusts his crooked sunglasses onto his head with one hand and extends the other toward Jenna, clearly expecting her to shake it. Jenna hesitates, her eyes darting to Aliyah for guidance. Aliyah gives her an encouraging nod, but the simple act seems to weigh on her. Finally, after a moment of visible deliberation, Jenna gives the guy’s hand a quick, perfunctory shake, her expression polite but distant.

The host grins wider, clearly undeterred. “Hope you’ve got a swimsuit under that,” he says with a sloppy wink. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”

You stiffen, your jaw clenching as the scene plays out. What the fuck? The guy’s blatant drunkenness is gross enough, but his flirty comment? That’s a whole other level of irritating. You can’t say anything—you don’t have that right—but a twinge of jealousy twists in your chest nonetheless.

Of course something like this was going to happen. How could it not? Jenna was gorgeous, and anyone with eyes could see that. All these drunk college losers were going to shoot their shot, thinking they had a chance with her. The thought makes your blood simmer, but you force yourself to look away, jaw still tight.

Jenna, to her credit, doesn’t react much beyond a slight narrowing of her eyes. She turns back to your group, brushing off the host’s comment as if it were a stray piece of lint on her sleeve.

She turns to look at you and notices the way your jaw is clenched. And she can't help but notice the burning sensation in her chest at the sight. Is this the reaction she had wanted? She should've never let Aliyah get into her head.

"Make her jealous."

Her younger sister had whispered to her before they entered the party.

You breathe out a quiet sigh, your irritation still bubbling under the surface but tempered by the fact that she didn’t seem fazed.

Aliyah nudges you again, her voice low and teasing. “Careful, your face is gonna freeze like that.”

You roll your eyes, the tension easing just slightly. This is fine, you tell yourself. This is just a party.

————

This is not just a party.

The night had started with all five of you sticking together, like a tight-knit squad entering enemy territory. But, predictably, the chaos of the party soon swallowed you up, scattering everyone like confetti. Hunter had found his place in the pool, leading a cannonball competition that echoed with cheers and splashes loud enough to rival the music. Aliyah, ever the social butterfly, was mingling with Markus’ friends—some of whom she seemed to know already, laughing and chatting like this was her natural habitat.

Markus and Jenna claimed a spot poolside, lounging on sleek deck chairs while chatting with a group of partygoers. Probably Markus’ friends, you figured. He looked entirely in his element, gesturing animatedly while Jenna sat beside him, a quiet but magnetic presence.

As for you? Well, you were stationed at the edge of the action, nursing your second cup of the mystery blue fluid. It seemed like the safer option compared to the guy mixing vodka with… was that Mountain Dew? Your self-assigned mission was simple: keep an eye on Aliyah and shoot occasional glances at the girl by the pool.

Okay, maybe more than occasional.

Jenna was wearing a black bikini that was deceptively simple, all clean lines and understated elegance. It wasn’t flashy, but it didn’t need to be. It hugged her in all the right places, the kind of outfit that made her look like she’d walked straight out of a swimwear catalog. You could still feel the lingering heat in your cheeks from when she’d first taken off her jumper.

————

She had casually peeled it off as if it were no big deal—just another layer to shed in the heat of the party. But for you? It was a moment. One second, she was her usual, effortlessly cool self in the oversized jumper, and the next, she was standing there in that bikini, and your brain just… short-circuited.

Your first thought: Oh my god, she’s gorgeous. Your second thought: No, wait, she’s always been gorgeous. Your third thought: Holy crap, I’m staring.

Hunter, of course, had noticed your reaction because he never missed an opportunity to tease. He leaned over with a smirk and whispered, “Careful, you’re gonna burn a hole through her with that look.”

You’d snapped out of it with a flustered, “Shut up,” but it was too late. The damage was done. You were blushing so hard, you were sure your face could have powered the penthouse lights.

————

Now, as you stood there, gripping your cup like a lifeline, your eyes kept drifting back to Jenna. The soft glow from the pool lights made her skin look impossibly smooth, her hair falling over one shoulder in loose waves.

You told yourself to look away—to focus on something, anything else—but it was impossible. She was mesmerizing in a way that made the rest of the party blur into the background.

Your drink was halfway to your lips when you realized you hadn’t blinked in a while. Get it together, you scolded yourself, tearing your gaze away with a sharp breath.

But even as you tried to distract yourself, the truth was unavoidable: Jenna Ortega in a bikini—scratch that. Jenna Ortega was your kryptonite.

————

You can’t take your eyes off her.

You tell yourself it’s because you’re keeping an eye out, making sure no one bothers her, but the truth is, you’re mesmerized. She looks so comfortable, so effortlessly beautiful, and it’s infuriating how easy she makes it all seem.

“Enjoying the view?”

You nearly choke on air and whip your head to the side to see Aliyah standing there, a sly grin on her face.

“I—what?” you stammer, heat rushing to your face.

"I’ve seen you looking over there about fifty times in the last ten minutes."

You stiffened, immediately defensive. "I have not."

Aliyah raised an eyebrow, her smirk betraying just how much she was enjoying this. "Uh-huh. Sure. So, you’re not staring at my sister like she’s the eighth wonder of the world?"

She laughs. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.” She leans in closer, lowering her voice. “But seriously, you need to tell her. How long are you going to keep dancing around? And not like you’re not exactly subtle either.”

You glare at her, but the effect is ruined by the fact that your face is probably as red as the solo cup in your hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” She straightens up, her grin widening.

”Are you drinking tonight?” You ask her, changing the topic but also wanting to know the state of her so you can protect her as needed.

“Nope. It’s a sober night. Don’t worry about me and go get your girl before someone else does,” she urges.

Aliyah added, her tone lighter now, "if you do decide to shoot your shot, maybe don’t wait too long. She’s got options, you know."

You groan, taking another swig from your drink. The thought of Jenna with someone else is burning you.

“Anyway, I’m heading to the pool. Try not to stare too hard.”

She saunters off, leaving you standing there, flustered and annoyed but mostly just embarrassed. You glance back at Jenna, who’s now leaning back on her arms, her head tilted toward the ceiling.

You sigh and take a sip of your drink, the bitterness doing little to distract you from the whirlwind in your chest.

This is not just a party, you think again. This is torture.

————

As you leaned against the railing, sipping on your third drink of the night and trying to push Aliyah's words to the back of your mind, the host stumbled up to you, a wide, sloppy grin plastered across his face. He was holding a vape pen, which he took a long drag from before exhaling a cloud of vapor that smelled faintly of mango.

"Hey, my friennnd!" he slurred, swaying slightly as he leaned in closer than necessary. "You not havin’ a good time or what? You’re just… standing here."

You sighed, already exasperated. "I’m fine, thanks."

He squinted at you like he didn’t believe a word of it, then followed your line of sight toward the pool. His eyes lit up in drunken revelation. "Ahhh! I see what this is!" He laughed loudly and gave you a hearty slap on the back that almost made you spill your drink. "You’ve got eyes for the girl, huh?"

You stiffened, your face heating up. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Sure, sure," he said, waving you off with a laugh. "You’re just standing here, gripping the shit out of that drink, sneaking glances at her like a lovesick puppy because you hate her."

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush him off, but he wasn’t done. "You should go talk to her! Make your move, my dude. Life’s short, and she’s…" He gestured vaguely toward Jenna, nearly knocking himself off balance in the process. "She’s worth it, you know?"

The sincerity in his drunken tone threw you for a loop. You frowned, crossing your arms. "Weren’t you flirting with her earlier?"

He blinked at you, then laughed like you’d just told the funniest joke in the world. "Oh, that? Dude, I flirt with everyone here. It’s, like, my whole thing. Keeps the vibe alive, you know?"

You stared at him, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. "So, what? None of it’s serious?"

He shrugged, leaning heavily against the railing beside you. "Sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s not. Most of the time, it’s just… me trying to connect. I mean, isn’t that what we’re all doing? Trying to feel something?"

His words hit harder than you expected, and you found yourself looking at him in a new light. Despite his slurred speech and drunken antics, there was something oddly profound about what he’d just said.

"So… what are you trying to feel?" you asked before you could stop yourself.

He let out a long sigh, his grin fading slightly. "Dunno, man. Something real, I guess. You ever feel like you’re just… floating? Like, you’re surrounded by people, but none of it feels solid? So you do stupid stuff—throw parties, flirt with strangers—just to remind yourself you’re alive?"

You stared at him, taken aback by the sudden vulnerability.

This was the last thing you were expecting tonight.

"Yeah," you admitted quietly. "I think I get that."

He looked at you, his expression surprisingly sober for a moment. "Then you get why you shouldn’t waste time. If you feel something—really feel something—you gotta go for it. Otherwise, what’s the point?"

You glanced back toward the pool, where Jenna was laughing at something Markus said, her eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made your heart stutter.

“And if you don’t wanna take that chance. And want to take the easy way out. I’ll show you how to party,” he smirks gesturing to the end of the drinks table where three girls who you hadn’t noticed earlier were very obviously checking you out.

“I feel like kissing that guy over there,” he randomly announced. “Ciao!”

Maybe the drunk host had a point. And you made your choice.

————

The last month had been an avalanche of unsolicited advice.

Anton had urged you to chase what you want. Your mom stressed staying safe and doing what’s necessary. Hunter and Aliyah kept nudging you to address whatever was going on with Jenna.

And yet, you’d done nothing. Every word of wisdom rolled off you like water off a duck’s back. That’s what made it so damn funny that a drunk party host, of all people, was the one to finally light a fire under you.

Half the room was chasing something—a feeling. The same feeling that teens, young adults, and even grown adults spent their lives chasing. Butterflies, knots, secret glances, the kind of love that makes your heart race and your world slow down. Some people would do anything to find it. Others would do anything to forget it. But not everyone gets it.

What hit you was this: half the room was drowning their emptiness in alcohol, filling voids they didn’t know how to name. You, though? You didn’t have to fill that void. Because you already had what they were searching for.

And that was why, with a newfound determination, you started walking toward Markus, Aliyah, and Jenna by the pool.

You rehearsed what you might say in your head. You doubted you had the guts to blurt out a bold “I like you”—not even after three cups of that mystery blue drink. Sure, the booze helped take the edge off your nerves, but it wasn’t strong enough to make you reckless. Nothing at this party was as potent as Sinner’s jungle juice from back home.

Maybe you’d start small: “You look beautiful tonight.” Yeah, that could work. It was a start.

One way or another, Jenna was going to leave this party knowing how you felt about her.

The closer you got, the more you shook off your nerves. You watched Aliyah, now in the pool and leaning on the edge, whisper something in Jenna’s ear. You didn’t think much of it. The party was deafening, so whispering—or yelling—was the only way anyone could be heard.

But as you closed the gap, you saw Jenna turn her attention from Aliyah to the guy next to her. He was already looking at her, and whatever he’d said made her laugh—a real, full-bodied laugh. She even reached out and playfully slapped his arm.

What the hell?

You tried to brush it off. It was just a party. A nervous habit, maybe. It didn’t mean anything.

But then she did it again. The laugh was softer this time, more intimate. The playful arm slap turned into a lingering touch.

And this time, it wasn’t so easy to dismiss.

Jenna rises onto her tiptoes, leaning closer to the guy beside her. Whatever she whispers in his ear makes him nod, a smug grin stretching across his face. He hoists himself up onto the pool’s ledge with ease, droplets of water glistening on his skin in the dim party lights. Then, extending a hand, he helps Jenna out of the pool as well.

You stand frozen, watching as they make their way around the pool—not toward you, but on the opposite side. Hand in hand, they head for the dance floor.

Your stomach knots. Your feet feel glued to the ground, and you can only stand there, watching in disbelief as they disappear into the crowd.

You could see how the guy takes in the sights of her in that swim suit and it made you seethe with anger.

Aliyah scans the room, her gaze drifting over the pulsating crowd of partygoers. She spots you across the pool, standing stiffly, your eyes locked on Jenna like she’s the only person in the room. The intensity of your stare isn’t lost on her.

Her brow furrows, and she mouths a quiet, “Oh.”

“What’s up?” Markus asks, turning to her with a confused expression.

Aliyah hesitates before answering, her voice low, almost guilty. “I think I messed up.”

Aliyah’s stomach twists as she recalls her own words to Jenna earlier: “Go with the flow; it might cause someone to spring into action.”

Markus turns to her, confused. “What’re you talking about?”

Aliyah nods in your direction. “Look at her.”

Markus follows her gaze and immediately notices you, frozen and visibly fuming, your emotions written all over your face. He lets out a low whistle. “Oof. Yeah, that doesn’t look good.”

Aliyah shakes her head, already looking around. “We need to find Hunter. I don’t see this ending well if we don’t intervene.”

Markus groans, but he’s already following her lead. “Great. Another party, another disaster.”

————

Just minutes ago, you’d felt almost enlightened, convinced you were nothing like the crowd around you—certain you weren’t chasing the same empty void so many here seemed desperate to fill.

But now? Now you felt ridiculous. Pissed. And maybe that mystery blue drink had hit harder than you realized, because suddenly, you were stalking through the crowd, determined to find the host.

He wasn’t hard to spot. Sure enough, he’d achieved his goal, currently locked in a passionate kiss with the guy he’d been eyeing earlier.

Thankfully, he noticed you approaching just in time and broke away, grinning lazily.

You stopped in front of him, your frustration bubbling over. “Show me how to have a good time.”

The host’s grin faltered the moment he registered your expression. For someone as drunk as he was, it was almost impressive how quickly his disappointment flickered across his face. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly, as if he’d hoped you wouldn’t end up here, fuming and frustrated.

But he nodded, brushing off the moment with a shrug and an exaggerated stumble in your direction. “Alright, alright,” he slurred, gesturing for you to follow him, leaving the guy he was making out with stranded for your sake. “Come on, let’s fix that mood of yours.”

He weaved his way back toward the drinks table, unsteady on his feet but somehow managing to avoid a complete wipeout. You followed reluctantly, your anger simmering beneath the surface as he gestured toward the end of the drinks table. The trio of girls you hadn’t noticed earlier perked up immediately, their eyes lighting up when they spotted you.

"First, we need to get you absolutely zonked!” the host cheers, thrusting a cup of that ominous green liquid into your hand.

You hesitate, staring at the swirling contents as if they might hold all the answers—or at least some of the regrets you’d rather avoid. Still, you take a sip, and the potent concoction hits you almost immediately. It’s stronger than the blue drink, and you know one thing for sure, you don’t want to get so wasted that you do something irreparably stupid at a party full of strangers. One drink, you decide. That’s your limit.

The host, however, is in full swing. “Alright! Step one done. Now, we find you a girl. The goal’s to make your gal jealous, right?”

You don’t say anything, your silence speaking volumes. He glances back at the dance floor, where Jenna’s still twirling and laughing with the guy. “Yeah, I’ll take that as a yes. She’s dancing with him, so we’re gonna play the same game. Cool?”

Guilt creeps up your spine, making your stomach churn more than the drink. You overthink everything. What would Jenna think? Would this make things worse?

The host seems to sense your hesitation. He snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Hey, stop thinking. You wanted to party, right? This is partying. Just dance and vibe—no strings attached. And bonus, she’ll notice. Maybe even pull a move herself. Cool?”

You still don’t answer, but he barrels on regardless, scanning the room with surprising clarity for someone who’s barely standing upright. His gaze lands on a girl across the room, sipping a drink and watching you with an air of quiet confidence. “I say you go for her,” he says, nodding toward her. “She’s not as desperate as those three over there practically undressing you with their eyes.” He gestures to the trio at the end of the table, but your attention is already locked on the girl he pointed out.

She’s gorgeous. Her sleek black hair falls effortlessly over her shoulders, catching the dim lights in a way that feels almost cinematic. Her lips, painted a deep red, curve into a subtle smirk as her dark hazel, almond-shaped eyes fixate on you. Those eyes… they’re hypnotic, pulling you in like she already knows the effect she’s having on you.

And then she does it—the sticky eyes trick. She looks at you, holds your gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then glances away like she’s already won. It’s deliberate, it’s calculated, and it’s working.

“She’s doing it on purpose,” the host mutters, nudging you forward. “That’s your cue, my friend.”

Your feet move before your brain catches up, guilt and hesitation drowned out by whatever magnetic pull this girl has on you. As you approach, she tilts her head slightly, a single brow arching in challenge. The smirk deepens, and she takes a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving yours now. It’s like she’s daring you to come closer, daring you to make the first move.

And you do.

It all happened so fast. One moment, you were walking across the room, drawn in by her magnetic gaze, and the next, you were standing in front of her. Barely any words were exchanged—just a coy smile and a simple, “Hey, I’m Sofia. Wanna dance?” Before you could even think, you nodded, and now here you are—another pair of bodies swaying in the pulsating rhythm of the music, like the rest of the world had melted away.

Her arms rest comfortably around your shoulders, her touch warm and intimate as if you’ve done this a million times before. Your hands find their place naturally at her waist, and the two of you move in perfect sync, every beat of the music mirrored in your steps. It’s effortless—the way her body follows yours, the way your energy bounces off hers.

But every few seconds, your eyes betray you, glancing over your shoulder to see what Jenna’s up to. And there she is, still dancing with that guy, laughing at something he’s said, her head tilting back just enough to make your stomach twist.

Sofia’s voice pulls you back. “Hmm, are we making that girl jealous?” she teases, her tone light but sharp enough to cut through the haze of your thoughts.

“Maybe,” you admit cautiously, the word barely audible over the music. You brace yourself, worried she’ll be offended that you’re using her for this. But instead, she smirks, her dark eyes glinting with mischief.

“Well,” she murmurs, her lips curving into a playful grin, “we’ll have to do a better job than this.” Without hesitation, she steps closer, closing the already small distance between you. Her body presses softly against yours, her movements slower, more deliberate, the intimacy cranked up just enough to make your pulse quicken.

“She an ex?” Sofia whispers, her breath warm against your ear. The words come out smooth, sultry—designed to sound just loud enough for you to hear.

“No,” you reply, your voice catching slightly. “We’re just... friends?”

Sofia throws her head back, laughing dramatically, the sound exaggerated and almost theatrical. It’s over the top, no doubt meant to draw attention. Jenna’s attention. You’re sure she’s watching now, though you don’t dare look back. Instead, you commit fully to the bit, letting the drinks loosen your inhibitions. The music thrums in your chest, your body moving like the college kid you are—reckless, carefree, and untethered.

For the first time tonight, you let yourself stop thinking. You dance like no one’s watching—though deep down, you know someone is.

————

Hunter, Aliyah, and Markus watched the scene unfold like an audience to the world’s most chaotic soap opera. Their expressions ranged from shock to amusement, with Hunter’s jaw practically on the floor.

“What the fuck did I miss?” he asked, eyes darting between you and your dance partner and Jenna and hers.

“I told Jenna to make Y/n jealous,” Aliyah admitted, her voice tinged with guilt. “And now Y/n is retaliating.”

Hunter let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “This is so not like Y/n, but I kinda like it. That girl is cute.”

Aliyah shot him a sharp glare. “Excuse me? Aren’t we rooting for Jenna and Y/n?”

Hunter snickered. “We are, but relax. This is just the pre-show. They’ll have makeup sex and get over it.”

Aliyah groaned, rolling her eyes. “Seriously? Makeup sex? They—"

Hunter smirked. “Yeah, makeup sex. You know, when they—”

Markus laughs at Hunter’s response.

“I know what it is, weirdo,” Aliyah snapped. “But they’re not there yet. They haven’t even admitted they like each other yet! They need to stop being stubborn and actually talk!”

Hunter leaned back, crossing his arms confidently. “It’ll happen. Look at them—they’re both trying to make each other jealous. This is just foreplay. They’ll be fine as long as neither of them crosses the line. Dancing? Fine. Kissing? That could screw everything up.”

Their attention snapped back to the dance floor as Jenna, spotting you with Sofia, retaliated. She moved even closer to her partner, her hands trailing over his shoulders, their movements far more intimate now.

“Oh no,” Aliyah muttered.

“Oh yes,” Hunter said, grinning. “Now it’s getting good.”

The group leaned forward, watching as you noticed Jenna’s escalation. Without missing a beat, you responded. Sofia seemed to catch on quickly, her body now pressed firmly against yours as you matched Jenna’s energy. The two of you danced as if the rest of the world had disappeared, exchanging subtle glances that grew bolder with every passing moment.

It was a game of one-upmanship now. Jenna would sway closer to her partner, and you’d mirror her, pulling Sofia even closer. Jenna’s hands would glide down her partner’s arms, and Sofia would follow suit with you. Back and forth it went, escalating with each move, the tension between you and Jenna palpable even from across the room.

“Holy shit,” Hunter muttered, his grin widening. “They’re not even pretending anymore.”

“They’re literally staring each other down,” Markus added, incredulous.

It was true. Neither of you was hiding the fact that this was all about the other. Your eyes locked with Jenna’s, an unspoken challenge passing between you as your bodies moved in sync with your respective partners. The music thumped, the crowd blurred, but all that mattered was who would break first.

Sofia's hands slid up your arms and found their way to your shoulders as you danced, her movements effortlessly in sync with yours. Her body pressed closer, her breath warm against your neck, and her fingers trailed lightly down your chest to your exposed abs, pausing there just long enough to send a shiver through you.

You felt her touch, soft but deliberate, and couldn't help but glance over your shoulder.

Jenna was watching.

Her gaze wasn't subtle—it lingered, her lips tightening as her eyes followed Sofia's hands on you. The guy she was dancing with had his hands on her waist, pulling her closer, but Jenna's attention wasn't on him at all. It was on you, her expression a mix of irritation and something else you couldn't quite place.

Then, suddenly, you froze. Breaking away from Sofia.

“What’s happening?” Aliyah whispered, her voice tight with worry.

The trio followed your gaze back to Jenna. She was standing on her tiptoes, leaning in toward her partner, her face inches from his. Her lips parted slightly, as if she were about to—

“Oh no,” Aliyah breathed, clutching Markus’s arm.

The three of them stared, holding their breath, as the moment stretched into eternity.

Taglist: @godamnityess @machyishere @freakshow2501 @nwestra @mcchicken88

@101rizzlrr @snowdrop1026 @ilovesneezing069 @btay3115 @burntoutghost

@cobaltperun

[ae-azile]

Untitled Fadel/Style Fic Preview: Post 1x07

Style meant it when he said he deserved to die at Fadel’s hands. He never wanted any of this to happen. He could have told Fadel that he never personally spoke to the cop and didn't even know about Kant being coerced into becoming an informant or Fadel being a hitman until after they started dating. He could say that he simply agreed to seduce Fadel in exchange for a car.

Somehow, that sounds just as bad. And if he puts all the blame on Kant, that makes him more of a snitch. Style never even wanted to be a snitch.

“I really do love you,” Style says to him, keeping his eyes on the road, “Even when you point your gun at me, my heart flutters in my chest-”

“Shut up,” Fadel says, pressing the gun further into his side.

Style rolls his eyes at the order. As if Fadel would shoot him when he's the one in control of the car.

“I can't be quiet on car rides,” Style says, “It makes them go by too slowly. The music is great, but we already established that we have different tastes. Let's talk-”

“Style-”

“Fadel,” Style counters, “I’m bored. Let's talk.”

“I'm not going to talk to some fucking snitch.”

Style groans at that, “Whatever you tell me will die with me! You’ll make sure of that!”

“No.”

Apparently, Style will just have to deal with Fadel’s decision, so he focuses on the road until sunset. It's only when they are running on fumes that he pulls over.

“Did I say you could stop?” Fadel asks as Style pulls into the parking lot of a fuel station.

“I'm sorry,” Style says, hopping out, “I didn't realize your car runs on psychological, emotional, and sexual tension! You should have told me you were this environmentally friendly.”

“Get back in the car.”

“I'm serious. I'm proud of you,” Style says as he pulls his card out. He is a gentleman, after all. He is going to pay for everything on this impromptu trip, “Regular, right? Some people think they are pampering their car by getting a higher quality than they need. It's truly unnecessary. Please tell me you're not one of those people.”

Fadel says nothing. Maybe he is that kind of person and is just embarrassed. Style won't call his boyfriend out on it.

“I got you,” Style says with a grin, “You just relax!”

“Do not use your card.”

Style lets out a scoff, “I am a gentleman! I want to pay, I mean it-”

“So that your location can be tracked through your purchases?” Fadel asks suspiciously.

Oh. Style truly didn't think of that. This is another reason he loves Fadel. He's smart.

“Well, then how else am I supposed to take care of you?” Style asks, “I mean it, Fadel! I am a mechanic! Masculine and tough. A true man! It’s in my nature to take charge-”

“I have cash,” Fadel says, getting out as well, “Walk into the store. I am right behind you. Don’t think of doing anything stupid to try and get away from me.”

“That would be stupid because that's the last thing I want to do,” Style says, putting a hand on his hip. Despite this being the honest truth, Fadel looks unimpressed and continues to look that way until they pay in cash and go back to the car. Then, Fadel gets back in the passenger seat so that Style can take control as every higher being in existence intended. He presses Regular Unleaded, lifts the nozzle, and inserts it into the jeep. He then flicks the lever so it will automatically fill the tank and walks over and rests his arms on the rolled down window before smiling at Fadel adoringly. Because that's what he truly feels. Adoration and love, even now.

Maybe especially now.

“I really do love you,” Style says gently, “I'm sorry if my initially uninformed involvement in spying on you broke your heart and made you think otherwise. This is why I wanted you to tell me about your real career yourself! I wanted to help you out of whatever life you found yourself in! We could have run away together. Fled the country. I think Japan would have been good. I could work for Toyota there. You think they’d hire me?”

Fadel still says nothing. He's a man of such few words. Then again, Style likes that. If Fadel talked as much as he did, they would be interrupting each other all the time. He wishes Fadel would talk a little more though. Share things with him. Be vulnerable with him. Fadel might need a good cry. Once that thought enters his brain, Style knows it to be true. Maybe that should be his mission, to get Fadel to have a cathartic sob-fest where Style comforts him and tries his absolute best not to crack jokes.

“I think they would hire me,” Style continues, “Pa, too. I would need to bring him with us. He really likes you, you know! He likes you better than any other guy I’ve dated and he has happened to cross paths with. I mean…it's not hard. I’ve dated a couple of assholes. But he recognizes a good person when he sees one. He even told me he approved of you and wanted you around more often. He thinks you're a good influence and that you balance me out.”

In response, Fadel points the gun at Style’s face. Style smiles and kisses the tip of it sweetly. It's only then that Fadel jerks the gun back and looks at Style as if he has lost it.

He has lost it. For Fadel. This hiccup isn't going to get in the way of what he feels. He was afraid when he woke up by the pool, but now he has come to a decision. He's spending this trip with three goals in mind.

1. Find Kant - preferably not dead or seriously injured - and ensure he makes it home safe.

2. Find Bison and talk him down. He's pretty sure Bison is more dangerous than Fadel is. His prettiness and petite stature are both incredibly disarming and work in his favor. Style respects it.

3. Make it clear to Fadel that Style is unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him, like Bella was in love with Edward in Twilight. Their relationship probably isn't even as toxic as theirs. There is no creepy, Italian vampire council or ninety year age gap, although Fadel may currently thirst for his blood. But that doesn't matter. If Bella and Edward can overcome all those things and magically conceive a child, then Style and Fadel can too.

“Why are you just staring at me? Why did you kiss my gun? What is wrong with you?”

Style snaps out of his dreamy thoughts and ambitions as he meets Fadel’s glare.

“I was just thinking of us magically conceiving a baby.”

Fadel’s glare turns into a bewildered, slightly disturbed gawk. He's warming up to him again. Style is sure of it.

[lilac-hecox]

Dude you are taking all this criticism and fighting like a champ, I think I’d have dissolved in tears if I poured energy into writing and got this back from like anyone. But oh my god. Are you not tired? Like not in a derogatory way, like a genuine please take a break I’m worried for you way because I’d be exhausted dealing with half this shit but you’re still answering asks and reblogging stuff and arguing your case to people who seem determined to hate you and you are honestly a stronger soldier than I’d ever be holy shit.

Also I lowkey feel like I’m watching the dissolving of smoshblr lol, like I know we (or at least the part of it I spent the most time on (Ianthony side, although I love the amanangela people I fear I do not comprehend the amanangela people)) were kinda faltering a little with the lack of Ianthony content but dude the fucking in fighting now the fact that there’s now utilized Smosh drama tags and update accounts. Feels like literally just last month like half of active posters on smoshblr were engaging in like two truths one lie or making fun little graphs and stuff and now we’re like tearing ourselves apart

(Except I think I’m overdramatizing because I’m pretty sure literally almost every actual tumblr user is on your side and a lot of the anon hate is coming from like the same few people who came over from Twitter probably? I still think we’re definitely a community it’s just making me a tad sad lol)

But yes anyway o7 and please take a mental health break at some point, love your fics and ur writing bro.

I think I am going to take a break. I hate that smoshtwt did this to me to the point I feel I need a break. I know they'd just laugh at that. They laughed at a different heartfelt post I made before.

I was just telling a friend that at the moment I'm worried that smosh and my fics are going to get associated in my head with this bad and yucky feeling and it will ruin both for me.

I truly hope not.

It's clear most of smoshtwt hates me and jaycee feels no inch of remorse for what she did and said to me.

She says she can't control what smoshtwt does but she knew what would happen if she posted my tumblr username on her smoshtwt. She knows the community and what it's like and what they do.

I want her to leave me alone. I don't know if she's going to keep making blogs and coming back but if she does a third time idk what to do at that point.

I appreciate the support from everyone here who has supported me. I do love smoshblr but right now everything feels bad.

So, congrats jaycee and smoshtwt, I guess?

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Helltingville Epilogues

Want some old men? have old men and the lonely rat bastard Captain Dickey.

From left to right:

Jerry - Mandi - Cherri (Left) - William "Buck" Titus (Right) - Bill - May - Pete - Jane - Amari (Matt's younger sister) - Josh - Matt

dude this took me too long

but man do I love all of em

Jerry and Mandi don't end up together permanently-- but they do have their kids together. I genuinely imagine Jerry ends up like Scout TF2 style as a single dad to like 4 kids but he loves them all equally and gives them all the attention he can.

And when he can't handle them all, he'll just drag Bill over and make him deal with them.

Yes, in Helltingville the gang stick together.. kind of. Like old friends that happen to live nearby-- they meet up occasionally, they keep tabs on each other online, they might even have a christmas party together, but they definitely are not hanging out regularly like they did as kids.

Jerry and May's anxiety can't take it, Josh's heart can't take it, and Bill can't take the guilt of knowing that, so its sparingly, but they'll keep in touch.

During the heavy confrontation after Comicon and after, Bill kinda.. hit rock bottom? Like if he hit rock bottom as a teenager then he hit the bottom of satan's fucking boot. Getting reemed out by Matt, disgusting looks from everyone and even his sister, seeing everyone so happy without him--

he struggles with that, and he hates it. He gets so unbelievably angry with himself for being both equally stupid and selfish. He shouldn't be upset about this! They're just stupid fake fans that don't understand him, right? then why the hell is he three bottles in and he still feels like shit?

Jerry and May keep tabs on Bill the most, checking on him and forcing him into therapy. Jerry uses him as a free babysitter, May enjoys the company when she isn't on set with Pete, and Bill isn't passed out drunk in his mom's basement.

Jane and Amari were enemies in high school, they actually hated each others GUTS. Amari was captain of the cheerleading team and Jane had her punk girl gang. And yet, in college, they managed to get together and put aside their differences. (Plus, Amari has the same infatuation problem as Matt... and her type is scrawny women that could stab a bitch, apparently).

Matt does develop a bit.. of an alcohol issue. He's so stressed from work, worried about Josh and his health, BILL being ALIVE, Bill being NEAR HIM, Bill staring at his SISTER bro his liver is crying.

Josh.. kind of knows. He can tell that Matt drinks at dinner and maybe a sip or two before bed, but He doesn't want to step out of line and make Matt upset. The last thing he wants is to upset his fiance and get yelled at again for being useless. He doesn't need to go down memory lane.

Cherri develops a vocal stim similar to Jerry, and struggles to talk otherwise and is usually hiding behind him whenever they aren't in their room. Buck, on the other hand, will not stop asking questions or shut the fuck up. this kid has enough energy to power the sun and his brain never turns off. Sorry Bill, you're gonna have to explain the entire Star Trek lore because you mentioned Star Logs and did the Vulcan Salute and now he demands to know what that is.

May works with Pete on occasion, mostly on a commission basis from Butchie. She helps make props and walks new actresses through the ropes and makes sure they're safe on set. Pete is just happy his woman's with him and you BET he brags "guys look at my girlfriend god I love her--"

And yes, they're looking to name their kiddo Sidney, but it's still a toss up. Bill says the name sounds dumb but won't help May pick any new ones to add to the list, so his opinion can get stuck in a meatgrinder.

Guys i have too much to say about them.

[cherryc1nnam0n]

Dad's not home | Modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader x Stepdad!Jim Hopper

Summary: You've been dating Eddie for months now and he's grown very fond of someone from your own family... Luckily, they both share the same love for you 🩷

Cw: 18+, Stepcest, pansexual!Eddie, slut!Eddie, stepdad!Hopper, talk of beefy Hopper, lots of dirty talk, cheating, threesome, anal sex, unprotected p in v, 2 guys 1 girl, masturbation (male receiving), excessive cumming Eddie, nipple play, little angst with happy ending, plot twist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You loved Eddie very much, so so much you let him do anything he wanted, you never ever questioned him or even felt jealous of him, he was the perfect boyfriend and you were the perfect partner for him

So due to this unbreakable trust you had on him, you never expected what was going to come...

You were home alone at the cabin you lived in with your stepdad, your mother had passed a few years ago and having nowhere else to live, you decided to stay with him, being the chief of police and a genuinely nice man you trusted him and he made great company and food

But one thing he didn't like were visits, he knew Eddie, having arrested him multiple times for speeding or drug dealing, he didn't expect you to date him and he didn't like him at his house one bit, so you had to be sort of sneaky when you wanted him to come over either to hang out or fuck your brains out

So here you were in bed, texting your boyfriend to invite him over, feeling particularly needy of his dick

Hey babe

My step dad's not home ;)

I know

That threw you off guard, what does he mean he knows?

Wdym you know??

He realized his mistake, quickly texting back an answer

I mean, idk it's a tuesday at night, he's probably working right?

"Hmmm, that was weird, but okay" oh poor naive you, believing his reply you texted again

Yeah you're right

Wanna come over? ;)

"Shit" Said Eddie thinking of an excuse you would believe, but, you would believe anything he told you anyway

Sorry babe can't do, I'm helping Wayne fix his truck

"Damnit" you said to yourself when you read his text, he was once again busy to not come over

K, love u

Love u too

"Good boy, and she doesn't even suspect a thing huh? Such a shame she trusts you so much, won't ever see it coming" Hopper's voice spoke into Eddie's ear

Truth was, Eddie did know where your step dad was, because he was currently at a motel with him, getting his ass pounded by the older man

"Shit, please just stop talking and fuck me"

"Bratty tonight are we? I'll fuck the attitude out of you" Said the older man grabbing onto Eddie's waist and starting to really ram into him, making the younger one gasp and moan as his eyes rolled back, phone discarded somewhere on the creaking bed

Oh poor naive you...

Next time something weird happened was when you and Eddie were at his place watching a movie, said movie was not of your interest as you were jerking off your boyfriend under the blanket you had on your laps, suddenly you felt him twitch and he groaned particularly loud, you looked at the screen and a beefy dad bod man was on the screen, you could see his body jiggle as he walked and he looked damp with water or sweat, you failed to notice how Eddie bit his lip and came all over your hand unexpectedly

"What? So soon Ed's?"

"Shit s-sorry, I just-" he scrambled over his words "I just, have been really needy for you babe" he lied to your face so easily now, reality was that he was reminded of those nights he got fucked by your step dad when he saw that man who had a similar body complex as his forbidden lover "Sorry babe, lemme make it up to you, m'kay?"

You couldn't say no to that...

But the last straw was when he kept on denying you again, and again, and again, always coming up with lame excuses you were starting to get tired of

"I have a very important deal to get to"

"Sorry babe, I don't feel so good tonight"

"Babe, my van has a flat tire"

"Sorry babe, I have explosive diarrhea"

"I AM DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT!" You had enough of this game, so you set out on a plan to finally know what Eddie was up to instead of being with you

You started following him, his van was driving outside of town and into a secluded area, that's when you saw the sign of a motel down the road, your stomach sank when you realized where this was going

You parked far away from his van and saw him get out, look around and then stand outside it, smoking a cigarette as he seemed to be waiting for someone, maybe the girl he was cheating on you with

Another car was pulling in, and you swear you got whiplash, it was your step dad's police car pulling in, he parked next to Eddie's van and got off, rounding the vehicle to come over to your boyfriend and they started making out furiously, you felt like you could pass out from the betrayal, your boyfriend and your step dad?! Really?! You knew Eddie sometimes would ogle men like when Steve was wearing those tiny basketball shorts one day but to fuck your step dad?! This is a whole new level of low

You watched them go into a room so you decided to strike then, quickly jogging to the door and knocking on it

Inside the two men separated from their kiss and eyed the door, not expecting anyone to knock or even know who they were to begin with...

Hopper reluctantly got up to open the door and was met with a very you standing there, in pure reflex he closed the door cutting you off when you opened your mouth to yell at him

"Who is it?" Eddie asked sitting up on the bed

"Uhm... You might wanna cover your ears"

He opened the door again and you started yelling your heart out

"HOW DARE YOU?! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU FUCK MY BOYFRIEND?! HE'S MINE!!"

"Y/n?!" Eddie said as he heard you, you stormed into the room pushing Hopper away and coming to yank Eddie's hair "Not the hair! Not the hair!"

"YOU'RE A FUCKING WHORE MUNSON!"

"I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry" you had begun to strangle him with his own hair, wrapping it around his throat and he kept on smacking your arms to release him

"Okay that's enough baby" Hopper said grabbing you away from Eddie who grabbed his throat in pain "We're not the only ones wrong here"

"She was strangling me" Eddie said out of air

"NO LEMME GO! I'M GONNA KILL HIM!" You trashed around in Hopper's arms but he just chuckled

"Okay settle down, you're not a saint yourself baby"

"What? What do you mean?" Eddie asked from the floor

"I mean that, Y/n has been a bad girl for her daddy, right baby?"

That's when it clicked for Eddie, and he smiled triumphantly

"Aha! You're a whore also! You've been fucking Hopper too!" He said pointing at you

"Yeah and he was supposed to be only mine!"

"Well, I guess he likes guys too, right daddy?" Eddie said talking to Hopper, to which he chuckled again

"Okay okay, there's enough for the two of you, we can share if you want to?"

So that's how you ended up sandwiched between both men, back facing Hopper and he grinded against your ass while he made you and Eddie make out, hands roaming each other's bodies, you felt yourself being lifted and you knew it was your step dad making space for him to fuck you in the ass, having better access to your tits Eddie wasted no time in latching onto one and nursing on it while also looking to enter your pussy

"Fuck daddy, fuck me please"

"Already on it princess" Hopper said as he je started to fuck your ass, while Eddie followed behind on fucking your pussy, wrapping your legs around Eddie's waist as you were being held by Hopper

"Fuck, I'm so close, gonna cum, fuck gonna cum!" You moaned as both men kissed your shoulders, neck, back and chest and then each other over your frame

"Cum baby, lemme feel it" Eddie said ramming into your pussy as Hopper kept on destroying your ass

With one loud shriek you came all over Eddie as he pumped his cum into you, what you loved of him was how much he came all the time, he would literally bulge your stomach from how much he came inside you, meanwhile Hopper emptied out in your ass

"Your turn Eddie boy"

"Yessir"

Now on your back with your legs wide open, Eddie on all four's eating you out while Hopper fucked him from behind, it was beautiful sight to see, how good Eddie took Hopper's 9 incher in his ass and how it brushed against his prostate every time he moved, and how his tongue was fucking your pussy along with Hopper's rythm was all too much and too good all over

"Fuck, fuck!" Eddie moaned into your pussy as he neared his peak, cock twitching as he prepared to cum again

"Cum Eddie, cum all over yourself Ed's, such a good boy" you praised him as his eyes rolled back and he came all over the bed, he thrusted two fingers in you as he sucked hard on your clit to make you cum too, your eyes rolled back as you reached your orgasm along with Hopper who was cumming in Eddie's ass

"Fuck... This was so good" Hopper said out of breath pulled out of your boyfriend's ass

"Too good..." You said as Eddie fell on you and you kissed his head "I'm sorry for cheating on you first"

"It's okay, at least we cheated with the same hot guy" Eddie yelped when he received a slap on the ass from Hopper

"Behave you two, or I'll punish you both"

You looked at Eddie and smiled at each other, wanting to tease Hopper some more

Guess it didn't end that bad after all...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging my friendo @ali-r3n for supporting this nasty idea 💜

[fartfacedfuck]

Oh my fucking God I have so many AU ideas in my head and I don't know which one to actually make! Like there's the one I have th most set up, and then there's like atleest threee others I want to do! So I'm just going to make a list

1: sunnier days AU, bill Gose through about two and a half million years (literal) of theraprisim before suddenly being taken of all medication and put in a human body, this of course is not taken well and he ends up clawing out his right eye as well as a few lles serious wounds. Despite this the theraprisim still sends him off to the pines family for redemption. This AU would mostly focused on mental health and building relationships, although of course it will have a bit of a billford side plot.

2: idiots with guns AU, during the reunion fight ford shoots stan, stan becomes a ghost and is posed at first but that winds down later. In Despare and desperation ford calls Fidleford and *begs* him to comeback, Fidleford dosent want to but agrees becouse divorce and him allso having problems. So now ford fidleford and stan are in the same house experience stan is dead and the other two are working on reviving him, chaos and homosexuality insues. (Fidlestan)

3:second times the charm AU, Mabel and dipper head back to gravity falls three years later (there fifteen about to turn sixteen I think) stan is mostly healed from the memory gun, fidleford is doing better but still has some short-term memory issues as well as memory's from before weirdmagedon being really fuzzy. Stanford is researching an much happier but still dealing with trauma. This one will have fidlestan, dipifica and Mabel being a lesbian who eventually gets with some girl haven't worked out the details yet ¯\_(　´∀｀)_/¯

4:Starlight AU,the axolotl interviens after the eaclidian massacre and brings bill to earth when the stan twins are twelve (bill is twelve when he destroys Euclida) so bill grows up with the stan twins, learning his powers as well as the human way of life. This will have lots of billford and allso fidlestan becouse I say so (let's assume that fidleford moved to new jersey)

5:I can't think of a name for this one but it's about fidleford and stan trying to get ford back. bills fucking with them a bit becouse I can't resist adding him in. there's lot of angst between stan being a general mess and fidleford using the memory gun. It would have them looking at anomalies becouse anomalies are fucking cool. And it's mostly going to be slic of life becouse I want to.

I have more but these are the main ones,If you have anyothers suggestions are absolutely welcome, If not I'd deeply appreciate you giving your opinion on which of these to work on becouse I have no idea 😅

[slashingdisneypasta]

Wheezy Weasel x Fem!Witch!Reader || Excerpt

Plot: Wheezy wakes up to find you dancing outside under the moon. And he doesn't believe in fate but you do make him wonder. 🌑🌑🌑

Warnings: Nothing really. Profanity? Unedited/Written on phone.

Tagging: @astridflo , @marinerainbow , @moxiiscool , and @spookiifi .

Wheezy thought you were crazy; dancing out here in the middle of the night, candles lit around you looking ethereal even in the middle of a back alley street. He always thought you were crazy doing this shit. Especially when it was snowing- which luckily, tonight wasn't one of those nights. If it was then he'd have to pick you up and carry you back inside- he'd done it before. Instead it was the first break in Hollywood heat after a week of scorchers. Cool breeze blows over him, making his yellow stained, sleep wrinkled clothes flicker against the cool wind.

He stops in the doorway to watch you in the street for a a little bit, leaning against his shoulder on the doorframe just letting the cool inside the apartment. Taking the moment to enjoy the change in weather, and a smoke.

When you catch sight of him casually watching you, drinking you in like the only thing that'll really hold onto his attention these days - despite the fact he thinks you're nuts, -  , you flash him a bright smile. A pretty as fuck smile. And waive him over.

With a smirk, a cigerette glowing bright between his teeth, and a shake of his head- he moves off the doorframe and finds you in the street. As soon as he's close, you take his hands and take an oppertunity for a break; pausing your dance to catch your breath. "Hey," You whisper, breathless, that smile he loves still all over your face. "Sorry, did I wake you up??"

"Nah," Your absence from his bed definitely did wake him up- but that ain't your problem. "Real nice dancing, doll. Y'look good. How long y'been out here?"

With a shrug, you look around you. The empty street, dry from days and days of hot sun and no rain at all; the other buildings, covered in grafitti and grease stains; Him, beautiful and tall and a little scary. "Not long... " So probably too long then, he thinks, smirking around his cig again. She needs to get some sleep- but there ain't much he can do about that.

His only job here is to keep you happy- and if lighting candles and dancing in the middle of the street makes you happy, thats easy enough. "... so yer dancin' under the moon again, huh? What's the occasion?" Doesn't matter that in the city you can't see shit in the sky except black soot as far as the skyline; you'll dance for the moon anyway. Every now and then.

"Oh- nothing this time~ " You give a small secretive smile; looking at him with eyes full of mischief. "Just happy right now."

"... that so?" He asks, waiting for the good bit.

That mischievious smile still on your lips, you lean up and get onto your tip-toes and stretch your neck, take the cigerette from his lips, and give him a slow, warm kiss. The breeze brushes you both by gently, whispering around you like spirits wondering how this story will end- if it'll be happy or a tragedy. The man has issues, a couple of reasons he shouldn't be allowed to be so happy, but the woman almost makes up for it. They guess that only time will tell.

"Yeah... " You whisper, your breath on his face almost better then smoke. Just as addictive, at least. Fuck. "Just really happy."

His eyes are intense, searing into yours. You give him back his cigarette.

Wheezy doesn't say anything. He doesnt believe in spirits, or fate, or the universe planning stuff- shit just happens, and you deal with it. But still, a dumb part of him thinks if he admits loud enough how good this particular shit turned out-- then something is gonna realise it made a big mistake giving this to him and take you away. And that's not gonna happen. That choice is up to you and you alone; and he's gonna make sure of that.

So wordlessly, Wheezy let's you draw him into your dance again; swaying gently in the light if some crackling candles and a buzzing street lamp down the way. The moon and the stars, the kinda crap that can almost make you believe in magic and fates, twinkling somewhere high in the sky.

[tayalisn]

would it be bad if i actually don't know off the top of my head? don't get me wrong, i'm thankful, don't try to spin this because i know you will, but i think so many other artists deserve their own grammy too. if i gave out my grammy's to others that would defeat the purpose, would it not? think with that brain of yours, niall. wait... you're from ireland? i had no fucking idea! this is groundbreaking news to me. i thought you were from... australia. yeah, australia. i did, i mean, it was subpar. i can't exactly compliment you because of how hateful you're being right now. the pettiness in me can't do it. sorry, it's a no go. wendy's? that is so random. what about in n out? you simply cannot go wrong with in n out. their wives don't come to the golf course, niall, it's their time away from them. a 'no girls allowed' type deal. just washing each others golf balls with the boys. don't you know anything? i'd have a beautiful mug shot and don't try to deny that shit. we both know i have more muscles in my body than you do. please. don't lie. do you know how fit i had to get to perform for three hours straight? i'm like she-woman at this point. these muscles don't lie. too be fair, she who shall not be named came up with the whole theme of reputation and the snake. it wasn't me.

oh, but it does for you, your miss royal highness? at least in the music sphere, it seems. remind me, how many grammy nominations did you rack up this year? i do hope you’ve got a grammy redistribution plan brewing—something like the red cross, but for handing those shiny statues to folks who might actually deserve them. you know, caring for your citizens and all that jazz. yes, i’m from ireland. maybe next time you can silhouette the stars in the flag’s colors so we can skip the part where you ask me that like it’s some groundbreaking discovery. i’m guessing you liked the cover if you’re bringing it up. another one of those where i sprinkled a little charm into your music? though let’s not pretend this is a voice battle—if it were, i’d have already knocked you out of the ring. or you could save yourself the multidimensional jaunt and hit up wendy’s, maybe have your cats toss me a few bucks when i end up hawking a fried mr. krabs at the seafood counter. oh, i’m the idiot? sure, fine. i’ll go ahead and rat them out to their wives if they sneak a look under your lilac skirt, and then we’ll have cane-like objects waving at you when their wives kick off an #taylorthehomewrecker hashtag. it’s always nice when truth adds that special kick. can’t wait for your mug shot, by the way. if the hashtag doesn’t break the internet, that will. and i assume you’ve been wondering how those videos of me on james corden’s show suddenly turned into a lifetime loop? you’re just sitting there, longingly staring at the repeat button again, aren’t you? tell me, are you volunteering to be my instructor? because if so, i’d have to decline. i’d prefer one with actual muscles—someone who doesn’t think attending a few nfl games makes them the epitome of fitness inspiration. let me guess, another love ballad? you know, since they say love is oh so close to hate. at least make it a little spicy for me, would you? otherwise, it’s about as unique as the snake emoji representing karen—because let’s face it, that emoji gets used at least once a week by everyone.

[thelastspeecher]

would love it if my weed-smoking downstairs neighbors would smoke their skunk weed on their PATIO in the gorgeous weather today

instead of hotboxing their apartment and thus sending the smell throughout the ENTIRE building

[chirpsythismorning]

Can we talk about how Jonathan might've been able to clock Mike simply because of what happened with him and Nancy in season two?

This will be a long post, so you might want to strap in or save it for later.

In Will and Mike's case, it would obviously be much different from Jonathan and Nancy's situation, given that you know, they're gay. But we still have Jonathan arguably going through a similar experience as Will, while Mike is going through a similar experience as Nancy.

In s2, we see Nancy confront Jonathan about how she waited for him before getting back with Steve, which is a revelation to him. Then they're at Murray's and she's struggling to say she loves Steve, after a handful of moments between them that felt like she might return Jonathan’s feelings. And you can clearly see it in his eyes, listening to Murray imply that they have feelings for each other, with him looking back and forth sort of in awe of what's happening, like he's starting to question if she might actually like him back.

Will doesn't have that same affordance as Jonathan to really hope, at least not anymore. Which is why these relationships in s2 and s4 end differently for these two brothers.

Based on all the signs he was seeing that Nancy felt the same, Jonathan decided to take the plunge to admit to Nancy how he felt, and at that same moment Nancy had the courage to show how she felt. In Will and Mike's case, Will wasn't ready to take the plunge to admit to Mike how he felt, at the same moment Mike didn't have the courage to show how he felt.

What's so painfully hilarious to me about all of this though, is that Jonathan arguably starts the season in the same shoes as most of the audience, where from his perspective, it's becoming obvious to him now that Will like's Mike, but that Mike does not feel the same way.

First at Rink-O-Mania, Mike appears a little uncomfortable upon hugging Will. Then as the happy couple continues on their adventure into Rink-O-Mania, he watches Will lagging behind moping. And then unfortunately he's out of commission for the rest of the evening...

But once he's sober and back to being an attentive brother the following morning, we see him watching them at breakfast, with Mike barely sparing Will a glance, all while Will is blatantly staring, almost like he's waiting for Mike to look back, only for Mike to get up and walk away.

All of these instances gotta be SCREAMING unrequited gay love to Jonathan. He's already gotten signs for years that Will is gay, these are now just the signs that are instilling his suspicions that Will has feelings for Mike. He could have easily interpreted their relationship in the early seasons as young best friends, with Will seeming to have a crush on Mike, and with them growing up and that potentially including Will's straight friend distancing himself from him because he doesn't feel the same. It's not the most unexpected thing in the world considering.

But then there's a shift.

Suddenly he's creeping up on them talking in his room. And we know he was listening in on the conversation because he brings up Owens when he sits down. As he's eavesdropping, he's probably thinking something innocent like Aww they're making up! And like, hey! Even if Mike doesn't feel the same, which is okay and entirely expected honestly, at least he still cares about Will enough to make things right after acting so out of character. Still, I'm not gonna lie, that sounded a lot like flirting to me--

Then he's knocking on Will's door like 30 minutes or less later only to find Mike and Will back on their bullshit. Mike suddenly isn't going out of his way to ignore or put Will on the back burner. In fact, he's on his bed and they're talking, again! The door is even closed this time, which is interesting. This has gotta be a good sign in Jon's eyes. Nothing to worry about! Right? Right...?

But then suddenly this shift continues, going in a direction he probably didn't expect.

I mean, this is literally an identical jancy parallel we have here with byler on the hood of the car, with Jonathan right there to witness it. Despite him maybe only now subconsciously picking up on the similarities between Will and Mike to him and Nancy here, he's at least taking note (I mean he's even got his gay map out and everything).

It isn't until the van scene happens, that I think Jonathan starts to genuinely consider his suspicions, which is that Mike might actually like Will back.

EVERY time we get a shot of Jonathan looking back at Will and Mike in the van, followed by a shot of his POV from the rearview mirror, we're faced with Mike looking at Will while Will is looking away.

As Jonathan is hearing Will confirm his suspicions about his feelings for Mike, he's simultaneously witnessing Mike not looking at Will with disgust, but something more akin to reverence. All of those moments in the van that we witnessed, including all the ways Mike looked at Will and everything that was said, Jonathan was right there.

And what's even more insane about this scene, is that it circles back to Jonathan as a character himself.

I remember when people were talking about how odd it was that we never saw Jonathan with a camera in s4. After 3 seasons in a row of making his passion for photography a big part of his identity, that part of him was apparently absent entirely this time around... But was it really?

This is the same guy that said, "Sometimes, people don't really say what they're really thinking. But you capture the right moment, it says more."

Jonathan might not have had his camera in s4, but this was without a doubt one of those moments where he captured something more.

Something that I also think get's highly overlooked about this scene, especially when it comes to Jonathan looking back at them, being followed by a shot of Mike staring at Will, is that he could see both of their reactions the whole time, from beginning to end. Will nor the audience had the affordance of knowing because Will was facing the other way at the end, while we on the other-hand were blurred from even having the chance, despite Mike literally being in the frame. But not Jonathan. He even lets us see what he sees, a few times, but not at the very end, which would have been nice after they didn't let us see Mike's reaction seconds before this.

Let's just stop right there for a second though and circle back to what I consider to be the first time Jonathan really picked up on Will's feelings for Mike, which was at the end of s3, in a sequence that is a little too relevant to the van scene if you ask me, given that they are almost direct parallels.

While these parallels are pretty spot on visually, they are also near spot on narratively when it comes to the evolution each of these characters are experiencing.

For Will in the first scene, it's sadness that he's moving away from his friends in Hawkins and also feeling like he's losing Mike, after what looks like him and El making up, which makes him scared he'll distance himself again. For Jonathan, it's sympathy for his brother who appears to have some very deep feelings for his friend, feelings he can't quite grasp yet but soon enough will.

For Will in the second scene, it's heartbreak that he has to accept that Mike will never feel the same, knowing that supporting his relationship with El (encouraging it honestly) will likely turn out just as it did last time, with him losing Mike all over again, for the last time. For Jonathan it's sympathy for his brother who has now confirmed his suspicions that the feelings he has for Mike are more than just that of a friend.

Given that this parallel reinforces the same feelings Will and Jonathan had in s3 to now, why would this not also reinforce those same feelings that Mike had in s3 to now?

In the first scene, Mike was visibly distraught, with dialogue from Hopper in the background applying a little too perfectly with what he was feeling in that moment, which was scared. He’s apparently back together with El now, despite them doing just fine as friends for the last 3 months, as well as him and Will just having finally gone back to them being on good terms again. But now, it’s like he’s right back where he started at the beginning of s3, feeling obligated to be the perfect boyfriend to El, and as a result, having no choice in his eyes but to distance himself from Will. Mike then walks into his house looking like a zombie, almost emotionless stepping into his mother's embrace.

Now, I say almost emotionless because it looks like Mike was trying to hold back showing how he truly felt in this moment. He's not crying like he did in s1 when he lost Will that first time. Time has passed and things have changed (he doesn't want things to change). And he's trying his best to keep it together. But the in-focus close-ups make it clear that he is definitely not okay.

What's so impactful about these parallels is that it presents the inner struggle both of these characters are having, both queer and experiencing doubts, but in different ways and for different reasons.

Will is the one who covers it all up with lies, hiding the tears in his eyes, because boys don't cry.

Mike is the one who has never cried to them, just to his soul (RUN AWAY! TURN AWAY! RUN AWAY! TURN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!!).

If you actually try to get a gage on Mike's in-focus emotions in that first scene vs. his out-of-focus emotions in that second scene, well they're not that far off from each other.

We go from Mike smiling vibrantly at Will, to him now slowly turning away to look back down at the painting, with whatever the hell emotion this is...

It's near impossible to catch because of how out-of-focus it is, but looking a lot closer, it honestly appears like Mike is feeling something akin to sadness that he's trying to mask. For a moment it even looks like he turns his head to wince emotionally, only to correct himself.

And call me crazy, but these shots also low-key parallel each other. Mike looking down trying to keep his emotions in check and failing miserably, only to look up and meet eyes with someone whose witnessing it.

With each shot before this of Jonathan observing Mike looking at Will, with him showing all the emotions Will never got to see and everything else in between, I wonder what Jon saw this time? Probably another thing he didn't expect.

Can you just try to imagine the silence in this van, accompanied by Will's muffled sobs, and then try to imagine Mike turning to look down at the painting, only to sneak a glance, and then go right back to looking at the painting, IN SILENCE, and then try to tell me how the assumption that Mike didn’t notice Will crying makes any sense, like realistically?

Yeah me and Jonathan are confused too.

Right now, Jonathan's probably wondering why Mike was acting a little fruity and repressed during the painting reveal. And that although he may have a penchant for being able to 'capture the right moment', Mike is sticking with his story (despite all the stalling and doubt). He is 100% straight!

And so maybe this is where Jonathan tries to accept what is being presented to him as the truth, despite the contradictions in front of him. It's likely that despite the way Mike looks at Will and acts around him, in ways he would have assumed coming from Nancy in s2 would've been evidence that she felt the same, it probably doesn't apply to Mike.

Maybe Jonathan's ready to accept that it's a lot more likely Will is experiencing unrequited love as a gay kid growing up in a small town, the most predictable experience a gay kid could go through, and in contrast Mike just feels too bad to let Will down easy.

Or who knows, maybe Mike could still be a little bit gay too...

But it doesn't matter anyways. Mike seems to be adamant about this and so there's really nothing else Jonathan can he do besides tell his brother he'll be there for him no matter what. And so he does just that.

But then Mike just has to surprise him one last time.

For those that don't know, the line Mike gives here in his monologue was in part pulled from Will's monologue in the van. Most don't know this because this line didn't make the final cut for the van scene, but in the official script the writers posted, what we find is an almost a direct parallel.

Which makes the reaction shots of Will and Jonathan directly after Mike says this all the more epic.

From Will's end he was probably hearing Mike say this and just thinking 'Damn. Well, that's what you get for using your feelings to inspire Mike to profess his love to El.'

But from Jonathan's end, I don't think his outside POV of these events overlapping was nearly as naive as his brothers understanding of the events. Because why the fuck would Mike need to use Will's feelings to inspire him to profess his love to El in the first place? Is this what Mike has been struggling with? Really? Why before every moment Mike takes action in this scene, is Will's hand literally pushing him into it? Why is Mike being so dramatic about saying I love you, stuttering and rambling about her being a superhero, not saying nearly as meaningful of things as what Will said in the van?

And then it hits him.

Mike is reminding him a little too much of another Wheeler right now...

Nancy Wheeler, who was afraid of what would happen if she accepted herself for who she really was, leading her to retreat back to the safety of Steve. Because Nancy liked Steve, but she didn't love Steve.

And now here is Mike Wheeler, who has went from being incredibly distant with Will after reuniting with El, something that is very unlike the Mike he knew in previous seasons, to something more himself again after they make up, with him looking at Will with adoration after hearing his words in the van, only to turn away and look heartbroken. Mike who is now struggling to simply tell El he loves her with Will right behind him literally yelling at him to do it.

And now it's like all those little moments are starting to add up to Jonathan.

Suddenly all those signs he picked up on from Will when he was younger are now blending in with moments Will shared with Mike. It was Mike who jumped in after him and his mom's speech to Will in the shed in s2, with tears in his eyes recalling the day that they met (without being asked, let alone pushed to). And it's Mike who is now looking like he's at war with himself as he attempts to give encouragement to El, just like he did with Will in s2, but this time he needs someone to push him to do it, and that person just so happens to be Will. After just finding out about Will's feelings and also while assuming El wants him to love her that way still, Mike is stuck.

I don't think it's takes a genius to consider Jonathan is capable of realizing how fucked they all are in this situation.

As much as Mike isn't ready for a sleuth of reasons, Will isn't ready either.

This provides a huge contrast between the bylers ², because while Jonathan and Nancy went through a similar experience to Will and Mike, them being ready to accept it and act on it didn't involve nearly as many factors and risks. Will and Mike also have the added barrier that is homophobia.

Will's internalized homophobia lies in part with assuming Mike could never feel the same based on some of the words he said in their last two fights, with parts being painfully reminiscent of the things his dad and bullies used to say about him. These are also words that contradict Mike's own words and actions from the previous seasons, things that did once give Will hope. The shame and guilt that comes with falling for your best friend, who you now know will never feel the same after being foolish enough to believe it not too long ago, and who might not even want to be your friend anymore upon finding out the truth, is understandable. He can't have hope like Jonathan can. It's just not the same.

Mike's internalized homophobia lies with assuming El wants him to love her, along with their relationship being expected and socially acceptable from everyone around him. Though unfortunately for her he feels abundantly more in love in the moments he shares with Will. Despite trying to make it work with El as hard as he could, because she's amazing and all any guy could hope for in a girlfriend, he can't ignore the fact that the feelings he has for these two people are different. The shame and guilt that comes with you, a boy, falling for your best friend, who is also a boy, and who is starting to show that he feels the same, all while you can't muster up the courage to break up with your girlfriend, nor can you muster up the courage to tell her that you love her, not when she's begging you, dying or even just simply at the end of a letter, is pretty understandable too. He can't have hope like Nancy can. It's just not the same.

Spoiler: They were not ready.

PS: I'm still not over the fact that they low-key confirmed these events elsewhere in the story...

[alongtidesoflight]

i swear my stepdad is so illogical AND stubborn it hurts

[the-darker-path]

He saw Taylor's worried look when Tonks just held out her hand to Draco as well, and when they were inside, he smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm 'out with Pansy,' that's pretty open-ended for us," he murmured. "I won't stay long. I just can't be totally in the dark."

He'd go insane.

Taylor was short on patience, that much was clear. The mention of stopping a murder had Sirius looking bewildered before their rising voices made him look anxiously at a curtained wall nearby, hastening to try and stop the women, but it was too late. Draco flinched, full body, when the curtains whipped away to reveal painting of a woman who could not be anything other than a Black. She didn't even seem to care who was present before she began screeching.

The ringing silence when Taylor out-shouted her, then stormed to the kitchen, was the most uncomfortable Draco had felt outside of his own home in months. He swallowed at Sirius' words, nodding and gesturing ahead. "....I take it that was family?"

"My mother," Sirius muttered. "Your great-aunt. Still working on undoing whatever fucking jinx has the portrait stuck."

"Good luck," Draco sighed as they entered the kitchen. There was a house elf there, old and creaky, who skulked back out of the room as soon as he spotted Sirius, and Draco raised his eyebrows. "I know that elf."

"You shouldn't," Sirius said in surprise. "Kreacher has been Black property all his life, worshipped my parents."

Draco eyed the doorway the elf had slunk through, making a mental note to ask Taylor about it. Because he was quite certain he had seen Kreacher before, and this was his first visit to this house.

Going to Taylor's side, he put his arm around her, feeling a frisson of calm snake through the unease of the day. He had missed touching her. "You're on edge," Draco said quietly. "Are you sure you can deal with this right now? You saved Bode and warned Tonks, you're not exactly calm at the moment."

Sirius stayed by the door, drawing his wand and conjuring a Patronus. It didn't linger, carrying his message for Moody and Shacklebolt, but Draco got the impression of something large and canine. He wondered if it was a version of Sirius' animagus form. "Tea?" Sirius asked, looking wary of how Taylor might react. "...something stronger?"

"Sirius."

"A shot of firewhiskey is not a bad thing when you're worked up, fifteen or not."

[chasedeys]

https://www.tumblr.com/chasedeys/770402431028871168

Knowing how hyper aware and caring Ja’Marr is he probably recommended her to Tee due to all the injuries how sweet and thoughtful of him . God this man shouldn’t have this hold on me

you are sooo rightttt arghrgrhhh ja’marr is so!!! health conscious!!! talked about it a bit here on how ja'marr takes note of people's health and injuries so seriously and pushes them to get healthy over playing through their injuries :(((

he cares soooo deeply for people he keeps close and tee had all those deep tissue injuries that kept him back from playing with ja’marr :(( he’s gotta be vibrating with the need to mother hen the ever living shit out of tee and mentions his usual clinic but like forcefully because he can’t be casual about it and tee's like ok sure and ja’marr drags him to her like a pup trying to keep their favorite toy safe asking their owner to stitch up their ripped stuffing 💔💔💔

like imagining ja'marr being all fussy and pushy about tee going to her, who he knows and trusts and has seen actual results from in himself so he feels comfortable and confident in actually getting tee to do a session with her, and tee being exasperated at this loud little shit who would not shut up about him getting better so he goes partly because he trusts ja'marr and that he has his best interest at heart and he knows that the rehab session would be good for him but also in other part just to shut and soothe ja'marr up lmao.

heres one of their sessions that's like my favorite because wow ja'marr really answered the door like that huh. like loooook at him arhrghrgrrhhrh..........legs swinging listening to her in the beginning </3 and then fighting with her on whose nails are longer boy enough 😭 (insane ass size difference btw begging you all to pause at 1:19)

AND WOW OKAY SO i assumed this before but like wasn't 100% sure but -> pretty sure this is a home visit right and that background's literally where tee did his session SO. what I'm saying is. tee did his session at ja'marr's place. at the same day probably so when one was being metaphorically smushed to pieces and stabbed with tiny little needles the other was sitting on the couch next to them probably yapping endlessly trying to make them laugh and getting yelled at by dr. ashley to keep their mouth shut.

just. ja'marr had added tee to his usual sessions </3 probably already had a usual date and time set up for himself for his weekly (?) resets and asked if she could add tee to her schedule so he can do his own rehab session and that kind of fucks me up deep inside because what do you mean he made tee do his usual rehab with him so tee would be healthier....what do you mean..........what do you meannnnnnn

here's another ja'marr session where he did the entire thing in his beanie btw <3 miss him in braids in a beanie 😔

[deservedgrace]

one of the more frustrating aspects of ex evangelical/ex cult stuff for me personally is how hard it is to talk about. and part of that is the emotional side of it, yeah it's a shitload of cumulative and compounding trauma and trauma is hard to talk about sometimes. but it's not always hard to talk about, or at least equally hard to talk about, and the thing that's honestly more frustrating to me about that is how... extensive it is, how impossible it is to give an accurate picture of what it was like, especially succinctly. there are so many things that you need context for. there's so much that doesn't really sound that bad unless you have other information. so much was normalized to me that i have a hard time knowing what's actually "normal" and what's "yikes" to other people because i simply don't always have the context for "normal". there's so much that's normalized in society and churches that gets dismissed as "normal" when it really, really shouldn't be. there's so much i just don't remember because it slipped out of my brain the same as "normal" unimportant memories because my brain didn't process it as abuse or traumatic at the time due to that lack of context of what "normal" is; it was normal to me and just what people did and how people acted and what people said. and the thing that happens is all of this compiles into me sounding like i'm exaggerating and whining about a "normal church experience" because it's just so impossible to describe how all-encompassing being in a cult is if you don't have that experience.

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

help i just witnessed a caesarean birth i'm going to throw myself out a window what do you mean they cut into you and then pull AN ENTIRE BABY OUT OF YOU THERE IS AN ENTIRE CHILD IN THERE THAT LOOKS LIKE SOMETHING OUT OF A HORROR FILM I HAVE NEVER BEEN QUITE THIS TRAUMATISED BY HORROR BEFORE THIS IS WORSE THERE ARE TEARS FALLING FROM MY EYES RIGHT NOW MY JAW IS HURTING FROM HOW WIDE I HAVE IT OPEN IN A SILENT SCREAM THAT IS A HORRIFIC PROCESS I THINK WE SHOULD OUTLAW BIRTH I'VE NEVER REALLY LIKED BABIES VERY MUCH BUT NOW THAT I KNOW HOW THEY CAN COME OUT I THINK I'LL BACK AWAY IN FEAR YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT'S NATURAL??? IT'S NATURAL THAT WE GROW. THAT? THAT INSIDE US? AND IT COMES OUT? AND STARTS CRYING? BITCH I SHOULD BE THE ONE CRYING. GO BACK IN THERE. BETTER YET, VANISH. NEVER DO THAT AGAIN. I HATE IT HERE. I WOULD SOONER DIE THAN HAVE A BABY IN ME. THAT IS. PURE HORROR. I'M SO UNCOMFORTABLE. CAN I GET RID OF MY UTERUS? IS THAT AN OPTION? I DON'T WANT IT ANYMORE. I REALLY REALLY REALLY WANT IT OUT OF ME SO THERE'S NO CHANCE OF AN ALIEN TYPE EVENT HAPPENING. I FEEL NAUSEOUS. I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS. MY LIMIT HAS BEEN CROSSED. CAN SOMEONE HIT ME REALLY HARD IN THE HEAD SO I FORGET THE LAST 10 MINUTES. PLEASE.