#and ive played a good amount of them over the years
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rabbitclown · 4 months ago
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i want to throw him into the lake
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bmpmp3 · 10 months ago
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I NEEED to go back to making art that makes it ABUNDANTLY clear that theres something wrong with my brain BUT NOT in a cool or stylishly interesting way. i need to do it in a way that makes people say "hm." and walk away
#sowwy ive been kinda going through it in my fine arts major rn can u tell HJKSDHKFd#ive been feeling like. scared. and paralyzed by marketability and branding.#i cant stop thinking about how other people will see my art. but not like in a good way#when i was younger i thought about it in a good way. like hee hee hoo hoo the act of looking connected us hee hee#but rn i keep thinking about it in like this wretched like consumer product mindset? ouhhghhhhh el problema es el capitalismo#and like maybe this works for some people. to think like this. to make art like this. its what my professors push me towards#not intentionally. they dont say it out loud at least. im not sure if they know or not some of the irony#my professors are nice and pretty smart and talented and i like em. but sometimes i wonder like. the push for us as students to make like#marketable 'avant garde'? stuff thats safe but pretending to be weird and out there#i dont mean to sound pretentious. in general i play it too safe myself (spent too much time as an edgy 10 year old with my#parents freaking out over my shoulder because they think the fact that i drew an anime character frowning means something serious LOL)#but i dunno man. my least interesting art with the least amount of care thought or effort always gets so much more attention in school#nowhere else oddly. online? people like my more passionate but seemingly frivolous art (oc art etc. not frivolous to me but yknow how it is#same with irl artists and other industry people outside my school. whats going on in my school LOL#i know from experience i cant push myself into a supposedly marketable brand. if i try to make something sell it will not.#i dont know why. maybe theres an invisible essence buyers can tell when i didnt care jkfsldjdfrds#but my teachers LOOOOVE the stuff i put no passion in its so bizarre orz but i gotta relearn how to ignore half of their advice#i used to be better at it. but i also only used to ignore like a quarter of their advice. maybe i need to amp up how much im ignoring#that sounds mean. they have plenty of good advice. but also plenty of advice thats clouded by their own biases#and i gotta relearn how to sort out this stuff again. i forget every few months for some reason#you know i always think ouuhhhhh i act so neurotypical ouhhhhhhhhh im outgoing i talk to strangers all the time i seem confident#im so masked IM SO MASKED but then i go a couple weeks where every conversation i have has people looking at me like#i have two heads and neither of them are speaking their language. and then i descend into madness like this HJKLDSHJDS#i'll be fine i'll figure it out. i need to stop trying to get a good grade in being a 'cutting edge' conventional artist <3#i need to just. draw my cartoon characters in peace 😔😔😔
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idkdudethisisntpermanent · 2 months ago
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Over the Limit - pt.v
jenna ortega x female reader
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi
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summary: An unlikely group forms—did someone say road trip?
word count: 10.8k
a/n: It's officially been a month since I've started posting Over the Limit on Tumblr! Thank you everyone for the overwhelming amount of support💚
————
How are weekends meant to look for the average 20-year old? Finally sleeping in after having a week of 8am classes? Scrambling to your job that funds all your stupid vices? Maybe it was stressing over picking the sluttiest outfit you can wear since you had a frat party and needed all eyes on you?
That realm of life seemed impossible for you. When you’re from Brimstone you don’t have the privilege of worrying about those things—no, instead on this fine Saturday morning you’re groggily rubbing your eyes open at 6am, while Hunter is panicking about the land lord who’s five seconds away from knocking the door down.
“Dude just answer,” you say annoyed, you could barely sleep last night and the last thing you needed was this antsy land lord playing drums on the door.
“I fucking can’t!” Hunter whisper yells, crouching down to your position on the floor where you had slept the night prior. “He’s gonna hand me an eviction notice when he sees me!”
And that is how your weekend begins when you’re from Brimstone.
After ignoring the loud knocks for some time, the land lord left grumbling angry curses at Hunter.
“So you’re backed up on two months of rent?” you ask, learning the information from the man that was once outside the door.
The older guy sighs with a nod, “Yeah, you know how it is. I haven’t been getting much races lately. I should’ve put a wager on you when you raced that Blond douche,” he says with a hollow chuckle.
You frown. You know exactly how it is. It’s not rare for you to walk into the garage and hear the whispers of unhappy Sinners about their pay cut.
Race clubs had their own economy. The quickest way for racers to make money was by paying an entry fee to compete, with the total pool going to the winning racer or crew. Crews like the Sinners also occasionally hosted parties, collecting entry fees to boost their earnings.
But gambling was the bread and butter—side bets, wagers, and deals made on the outcome of races. Anyone could place a bet, whether it was on their own crew or against them, but most of the money came from outsiders: third-party crews or devoted townspeople.
And then there was the fastest, most dangerous way to make cash.
“Didn’t you have a sponsor?” you asked.
Hunter's jaw tightened, and a shadow of bitterness crossed his face. "Yeah, I did. But things went south," he muttered. "Sponsors aren't what they used to be. They're too caught up in politics, or they want a cut so big it's not worth the payout."
You nodded, understanding that finding and keeping a sponsor was a double-edged sword. While they offered financial stability and access to better equipment, they came with strings attached—controlling interests, unwanted appearances, and expectations that sometimes choked a racer's freedom. You had to be in at least the top 5% of racer's to even be considered by a sponsor, and Hunter was just that good. But that lifestyle was clearly not worth it for him. You don't blame him, you've heard the stories of sponsor's having crazy asks for their prodigies.
"You'd be a sponsor's dream you know?" he suddenly says.
You quirk a brow up, not knowing how so.
"You're a great racer, you get along well with the rich, you're submissive—
"I am not submissive!"
————
After some more banter with Hunter you finally proceed with your morning and freshen up. As you're standing in front of the bathroom sink, wondering how you're going to brush your teeth, you noticed two toothbrushes in the holder.
Hunter lived alone.
Not knowing the origins of the second toothbrush and not willing to risk it, you opted to brush your teeth using your finger, and splashed some cool water on your face, trying to chase away the exhaustion and pull yourself together.
As you stared at your reflection in the mirror, a chill slid down your spine. Shock had a strange way of altering a person’s expression—jaw locked, eyes hardened, gaze steely. The revelations of last night were etched into your face like battle scars.
You were scared. Everything you heard last night was real—things that will directly impact you and your loved ones. It wasn’t just some joke, it was real life. And about your father...ever since the revelations of last night, it's been weighing on you—if you should tell your mom about the foul play in her husband’s death. How do you even tell someone that?
Your hands tightened around the edge of the sink, water dripping off your face and pooling on the counter. You thought about how it didn't shock you more to learn that your father’s death was no accident. Did that make you a terrible daughter? You thought of Anton, always armed, always prepared for whatever might come his way. Of course this life was brutal. Your father had been a founder, a leader—how could it not be dangerous?
But who wanted your father dead?
That was rather the question that gnawed at you, digging deeper with every passing second. Who could have wanted him gone, and why? Your fingers clenched the porcelain sink harder, the tremor in your hands matched by the anger coursing through you. And then the tears came undone, streaking down your face and mingling with the water already on the counter.
“Y/n?” Hunter’s voice cut through the fog of your mind, followed by a knock on the bathroom door. “Hey, you okay in there?”
You sucked in a shaky breath, fighting to steady yourself. Now was not the time nor place for breaking down.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you called out, forcing your voice into something resembling normalcy. You wiped your face with the back of your hand and swung the door open. Hunter stood there, a towel draped over his arm, eyes shadowed with worry.
He frowned as you brushed past him, taking the towel and pressing it to your damp face. The silence hung between you.
Hunter’s gaze followed you as you moved, his eyes full of questions. “Y/n, look” he started his voice soft, hesitant, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter you. "I don't know what's going on with you. But I know it's a lot. I already know that Jenna is a Viper and now this Ghost Smoke shit. You can talk to me about whatever you're dealing with if you want."
You paused, towel clenched in your fists, staring blankly at the wall. The weight of everything threatened to crush you, but you felt the warmth of Hunter’s hand as he reached out, resting it on your shoulder. That simple touch was enough to crack the fragile shield you’d tried so hard to maintain.
Tears welled up again, this time falling freely. Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out, each one tugging at the raw wound inside you. “Hunter, I don't know what to do.”
He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a firm embrace. The warmth and steadiness of him anchored you as you broke down, sobs shaking your frame.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his hand gently rubbing your back. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. You’re not alone.”
The floodgates opened, and you told him everything—how you met Jenna, her request to find dirt on Percy, your dad supposedly wanting out of the Sinners, and the revelation that Bullet and Apex weren’t just names, but legacies tied to betrayal and death. Hunter listened in silence, holding you tight, his own expression darkening with every word.
In that moment, the fear and uncertainty didn’t vanish, but they felt a little more bearable. You had someone who knew, someone who would stand by you.
————
You and Hunter sat side by side on his worn couch, the late morning sun casting a soft light through the window. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable now; it was a shared reprieve after an outpouring of truths.
Hunter leaned back, one arm resting along the back of the couch, the other in the bag of chips he pulled out for you two. Your breakfast. He let out a breath, shaking his head slowly. “So, Jenna came to you with this whole thing about Percy and the Ghost Smoke operation, and you just… jumped in? Talk about submissive.”
You punch his shoulder lightly, and managed a small smile, the relief of finally sharing the truth giving your chest room to breathe. “I didn’t think it would spiral like this,” you admitted. “It was supposed to be simple—find out what Percy was up to, help Jenna. But now, with what we know...”
Hunter’s eyes darkened as he nodded. “It’s more than just racing politics. It’s deeper, more dangerous.” He glanced at you, concern still etched into his features. “And you’re sure Anton has no idea you’re involved?”
The question hung heavy between you, but you felt more grounded now. You nodded. “For now, he doesn’t. But I don’t know how long that will last.”
A sudden thought crossed your mind, and you straightened. “Do you think Mikey knows Jenna is with the Vipers?”
Hunter shrugged, "She give you any reason to think that?"
"She was just... observant man. The other day—when we went on the drive. She remembered the Aston from the footage she saw of me and Jenna. Said something about how it was the car I rolled in with 'my girl' in."
Hunter’s smirk returned, and he nudged you again, playfulness edging out the tension. “Maybe she’s paying close attention because she’s totally into you.”
You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “I’m being serious, Hunter.”
“Alright, alright,” Hunter said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But on that note... we need to talk about the Aston.”
You frowned, a hint of confusion crossing your face. “What about it?”
Hunter leaned forward, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by seriousness. “Think about it. We crashed that meeting last night and got caught snooping around. The only lead they have on us is the car. They know we escaped in the AM. If they’re looking for anything, it’ll be that.”
Fuck he was right.
"I say we demolish it. Scrap it for parts or something."
"—no!" you exclaim interrupting his thought. "I'll find a place to have it stashed. Don't worry."
The older guy squinted his eyes in confusion. You were a mechanic, you never got attached to your cars. You knew better than anyone that cars come and go. Yet you couldn't let go of this one.
————
Being a mechanic had its perks, and one of the best was the network of wealthy clientele you’d built over the years. If someone had enough money to buy a custom-built, fully modded car from you, chances were they also had plenty of land—land that could discreetly store a car like yours. Now, you just had to hope their generosity matched the size of their bank accounts.
You stepped out onto the balcony as you scroll through your phone, siffling through your contacts.
"Hmm, maybe John might help me out," you mummer to yourself pressing call.
John was one of your more calm clients. He was the proud new owner of a 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1. You’d delivered the car just over a month ago—the same night Anton nearly gave you a heart attack by pulling a mock robbery, complete with a gun pointed at you. You shook the memory from your mind, focusing instead on the call as it began to ring.
You first engaged with some small talk before you asked him for help. For all you knew he was a sponsor involved in some shady shit, maybe even involved in Ghost Smoke. Is this what paranoia is?
"I hope there's no complaints about the Mustang," you laugh lightly.
"No complaints Y/n."
"Amazing...so I actually need a favour," you said, leaning on the balcony railing. “I’ve got a car I need to tuck away for a while. Somewhere discreet. Think you could help?”
There was a brief pause, then a hum of consideration. “Hmm, yeah, I’ve got a lake house not too far from here. You can stash it there. No one will bother it.”
“Appreciate it. I’ll swing by later today.”
“Anytime kid,” he said before the call ended.
You exhaled, relief washing over you. One less problem to worry about—for now.
————
After letting Hunter know you’d secured a spot for the car, you set out for the address John had texted. The drive felt almost reflective, the Aston Martin humming beneath you like it understood the significance of this moment. Arriving at the secluded lake house, you carefully parked the car— the car that had genuinely started it all for you.
The Uber ride back to Hunter's was quiet, except for occasional small talk with the driver and faint chatter of the radio. You leaned your head against the window, letting the scenery blur as you reflected on everything that had unfolded.
Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. Hunter’s name flashed on the screen. You swiped to answer.
"Hey," you greeted.
"Hey, where are you?" Hunter's voice was calm but direct.
"In an Uber. On my way back to yours."
"Cool, change of plans. Head to Brenda’s Diner instead."
You frowned, the name clicking in your memory. "Brenda’s? That’s in the next city, like forty minutes away. Why there?"
"Just meet me. We’ll grab breakfast, Hunter said nonchalantly. "I’m almost there already,"
Your confusion deepened, your brows furrowing. "Why are you suddenly all the way out there? And why can’t we eat closer to your place?"
He sighed, "Jenna texted me, okay? She asked me to come here, so I’m here. So just come.”
You blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what? Jenna texted you? Why does she even have your number?"
Hunter chuckled lightly, clearly amused by your confusion. "Relax, Y/n. Just come here. Who knows, maybe she’ll butter your biscuits or drizzle your pancakes."
"Excuse me—what?" you sputtered, but before you could say more, he hung up, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief.
You slumped back in the seat, your mind racing. What in the actual hell is going on?
————
“Thank you sir," you say as you get out the Uber. You squint your eyes as you take in the red and yellow sign that said that read Brenda’s. Even the sun shined brighter in this town, from what you knew the town you were currently in—Countsville, wasn’t tainted with race crews and class differences. It was an average suburban town.
You couldn’t help but wonder why Jenna had called you here of all places. Did she have some secret life here? A hidden family? The absurd thought made you chuckle under your breath as you shook your head.
Pulling out your phone, you caught your reflection in the camera and quickly fixed your hair. A pang of nervousness hit you out of nowhere, making you hesitate. Why were you even nervous? Shaking off the feeling, you squared your shoulders and stepped inside.
“Ah, there she is! Y/n!” Hunter’s voice boomed, his arm shooting into the air to wave you over like you were lost in a crowd.
Your eyes darted to him, already settled comfortably in a booth, and then to the two women seated across from him—Jenna and the girl from last night. The one whose name you still didn’t know.
Your steps slowed as their hushed conversation came to an abrupt halt. Without a word, you slid into the booth next to Hunter.
Hunter leaned back in the booth, a smirk playing on his lips. “Took you long enough. Thought maybe you needed a treasure map to find this place.”
“Ha ha,” you deadpanned. Your gaze darted to Jenna, sitting across from you with her arms crossed and her focus firmly planted on the coffee in front of her. She didn’t even glance up when you sat down.
The girl sitting next to her, however—was the complete opposite. She was all smiles, her gaze bouncing between you and Jenna like she was waiting for something to happen between you both.
“Uh, hey. I don’t think we’ve been introduced?” you said, leaning forward slightly.
“I’m Aliyah,” she replied, her grin widening as she reached across the table, hand outstretched.
You took it, chuckling softly. “Nice to meet you.”
Aliyah’s smile turned teasing. “I’m Jenna’s sister.”
“Sister?!” Your jaw dropped as you let go of her hand, the word practically punching its way out of your mouth. Was she a Viper too? Did you get caught up in a family of snakes?
“Well it's nice to meet you,” you muttered, your attention flickering to Jenna. “So, uh, what’s this all about?” You doubt she invited you here to introduce you to her family.
Nothing. Not a word. Jenna’s silence was loud, deafening even, as she swirled her spoon in her coffee like you weren’t even there.
Hunter glanced between the two of you, clearly picking up on the tension. “Oh, this is fun. Should I just grab some popcorn, or…?”
You shot him a glare. “Not helping.”
“Not trying,” he quipped, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Anyway, why don’t you ask Jenna why we’re here? She’s the mastermind behind this little breakfast summit.”
You turned back to her, trying again. “Jenna?”
Still nothing.
“Seriously?” you asked, the irritation creeping into your voice. “You’re just going to ignore me?”
Jenna finally looked up, her expression cool and indifferent. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you talking to me? Hard to tell when you’ve been acting like I don’t exist for the past few days.”
Hunter snorted, barely holding back a laugh. “She got you there.”
You sighed, sinking back into your seat. This wasn’t what you had anticipated. Sure, you figured she’d be upset about you ghosting her, but you thought you’d moved past that. Last night at the meeting, it felt like you’d reached some kind of unspoken understanding. Yet here she was now, stone-faced and silent, her cold shoulder speaking louder than words.
“Anyways, can we get some actual food in here before someone combusts?”
Aliyah snickered, clearly amused by the dynamic. “Sure, Hunter. Anything to save the day.” She turned her attention to you. “You have to try these pancakes, Brenda’s makes the best pancakes in town!"
Jenna muttered under her breath, just loud enough for you to catch. “Probably too busy to eat pancakes these days.”
Your jaw clenched, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This wasn’t the time or place to start something. Instead, you turned to Aliyah, doing your best to ignore Jenna’s jab. “Yeah, pancakes sound good. Let’s do it.”
Hunter raised his hand to flag down a server. “Pancakes for the table, and maybe a side of good vibes, yeah?”
————
For the past 20 minutes, the table had been quietly enjoying their pancakes, the clinking of cutlery filling the gaps in conversation. You caught Hunter sneaking a glance at your plate, his eyes drifting to the fluffy stack of pastries and then to the glass jar of maple syrup conveniently sitting right next to Jenna. With a sly grin, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, clearly not letting his earlier joke die.
Aliyah finally broke the silence, her voice cutting through the calm. "Alright, since Jenna's committed to this whole silent act, I guess I’ll get us started. Last night was absolutely insane, and I think we seriously need to talk about everything we learned."
You frowned, glancing between the two girls across from you. “Wait, we? What do you mean, we?”
Aliyah looked at you like you’d asked a ridiculous question. “I mean we, as in all of us sitting here. Jenna, Hunter, me—you. We’re in this now.”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your brow furrowing deeper. “But… Jenna got her dirt on Percy, didn’t she? That’s what all this was supposed to be about. What more does she have to do with any of this?”
The words came out sharper than you intended, and for the first time since you’d arrived, Jenna’s eyes snapped up to meet yours. Her expression was calm but laced with a distinct edge—and some hurt?
“Are you serious?” she said, setting her coffee cup down with a soft clink. “You think I can just walk away now?”
“Why not?” you shot back. “You wanted proof of what Percy was doing, and you got it. That’s what you asked me to help you with. This whole Ghost Smoke thing—it’s not your problem.”
Jenna’s jaw tightened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, it looked like she was biting back a retort. Aliyah, however, was quick to jump in.
“It’s everyone’s problem,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. “Ghost Smoke isn’t just some petty racing drama, Y/n. It’s destroying lives, and if the Vipers start pushing it harder, it’s going to get worse. Way worse.”
Hunter nodded, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by something more serious. “Aliyah’s right. Last night wasn’t just some casual run-in with Percy’s people. That dealer wasn’t joking around, and you saw how he talked about the ‘boss.’ They’re planning something big.”
You leaned back in your seat, the weight of their words sinking in. But still, a part of you couldn’t shake the nagging thought that none of this should fall on Jenna—or you, for that matter.
"I don't want you two getting involved," you said, your tone flat and detached, though the tightness in your chest betrayed the storm underneath. You stared at your plate, pushing a piece of pancake around with your fork, avoiding their eyes.
Jenna scoffed, the sound sharp and cutting. “Are you serious right now? You don’t want us involved? After everything last night?”
Your gaze remained fixed downward, even as her frustration bristled against you. “It’s not your fight,” you muttered.
“Not my—?” Jenna’s voice rose, and you finally looked up to see her glaring at you, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “You don’t get to make that call! You think you can just decide when you want me around and when you don't? Newsflash—you’re already in deep, and so are we. There’s no undoing it now.”
You stayed silent, your jaw clenching as you tried to tamp down the surge of emotions threatening to surface. She wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand.
You couldn’t drag them further into a world where people are pushing drugs—where people are capable of taking lives, just like they had taken your father’s and uncle's.
“It doesn’t matter why,” you said finally, your voice still low. “I just… I don’t want you involved. Either of you. That’s all.”
Jenna let out an incredulous laugh, throwing her hands in the air. “Unbelievable," she muttered, pushing back her chair abruptly and standing up, her frustration was palpable as she strode toward the diner’s exit.
You watched her leave, a pang of guilt twisting in your stomach. Hunter sighed beside you, leaning back in his seat.
“She’s not wrong, you know,” he said quietly. “You can’t do this alone. They were there last night. As much as you don't it to be true, they're now part of it.”
You didn’t respond, the weight of your own thoughts pressing down too heavily. Even though your intentions were to protect them, you couldn’t help but feel like you were only making things worse.
————
"If you grip the wheel any harder, it’s going to fuse with your hands," Aliyah quipped, casting a cautious glance at her sister.
Jenna shot her a sharp side-eye but said nothing, her focus fixed on the road ahead as they made their way home.
When it became clear that Jenna wasn’t going to return to the table, Aliyah had reluctantly followed her, leaving behind the unfinished business that had brought them all together in the first place.
“I don’t get it,” Aliyah said, breaking the silence. “I thought you two were fine last night. What’s with the sudden mood swing?”
Jenna’s grip on the wheel tightened even further, her knuckles white against the leather. She thought she had been fine too. Last night, things had felt different—maybe not perfect, but at least... manageable. But seeing you again today had stirred something raw and unexpected inside her.
It's not your problem, you said.
“I don’t know,” she muttered, her voice strained, as though admitting it hurt.
"Well I don't think your girl—sorry Y/n had any bad intentions. And if you really want to get involved in this Brimstone drama, then you have to make up with her eventually" Aliyah said, her tone gentler now.
Jenna let out a slow breath through her nose, her eyes never leaving the road. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured. “She ghosted me, Aliyah. And now she’s acting like she has to carry everything on her own, like I can’t handle myself. She wanted me around at first and now she decides I'm out? Oh I'm sorry I wasn't aware I was some fucking doll.”
“Or,” Aliyah countered, “maybe she’s terrified of something way bigger than you realize and doesn’t want to drag you—us into it.”
That struck a nerve. Jenna’s fingers twitched against the steering wheel as she mulled over her sister’s words. Was it fear? Was that why you were pushing her away? Her frustration softened slightly, but the knot in her chest didn’t loosen.
“Even if that’s true, she’s going about it the wrong way,” Jenna said after a moment. “I can’t help if she keeps shutting me out.”
Aliyah smirked faintly, crossing her arms. “So tell her that. You’re not the type to sit around and wait for someone else to fix things, right? Go confront her, like the fiery little Viper you are.”
Jenna rolled her eyes at her sister’s teasing, but the words stayed with her. Maybe Aliyah was right—waiting wasn’t getting her anywhere, and the Brimstone situation wasn’t something she could handle without you. As much as she hated to admit it, you were already too entangled with one another for her to pretend otherwise.
She exhaled sharply, determination taking root. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll figure it out. But if she tries to pull some shit on me again, I won't hold back."
Aliyah grinned. “Now that’s the Jenna I know.”
Aliyah sighed in relief, glad her words had managed to ease her sister’s frustration. She could have kept up the teasing, sure, but she knew better. Deep down, she understood the root of Jenna’s anger—it wasn’t just about the danger or the argument at breakfast.
You weren’t wrong, after all. As far as Aliyah knew, the terms of whatever arrangement you and Jenna had were clear: you’d help her get what she needed, and once she had it, that was that. Simple, transactional, with no strings attached. But that simplicity seemed to be the very thing eating at Jenna now.
It wasn’t just frustration; it was hurt. Hurt because Jenna realized you seemed okay with it all ending there—with the two of you going your separate ways. And it wasn’t okay for her. Aliyah could see it—the sadness in Jenna’s eyes, the way her jaw clenched just a bit tighter than usual. It wasn’t about the Ghost Smoke or Brimstone drama anymore. It was about you.
Her sister wasn’t mad at you for walking away. She was sad that you didn’t seem to need her the way she found herself needing you. Sad that she no longer had a reason to stay connected.
Aliyah glanced at her sister, who was staring straight ahead, her grip on the wheel lighter now but still firm. Jenna didn’t want to admit it, not yet, but she was falling. And Aliyah could only hope she didn’t hit the ground too hard.
As Aliyah mindlessly glanced at her side view mirror, she noticed something.
"Uhm sis, do you think that car's been following us?"
Jenna raises her gaze up to the rear view mirror and she spotted the same car that had been trailing them for a while now—a solid black Escalade. But California traffic is like that, the typical resident wasn't going to lane change like a racer. "I'm sure it's nothing."
Still, to be safe, she made a series of deliberate right turns, one after the other, her pulse quickening with each corner. When she glanced at the mirror again, her fears solidified. The car was still there.
“It’s not nothing, Ali. They are following us,” Jenna said, her voice low but tinged with rising panic.
Aliyah stiffened beside her, her wide eyes darting to the side mirror. “W-what? Who do you think it is? Percy? Or those guys from yesterday?”
Jenna’s jaw clenched as she considered their options.
"Aliyah, call Y/n. Now," Jenna ordered, her voice steady, tossing her phone to her sister.
Aliyah fumbled with the phone, her fingers trembling. “What do I even say? ‘Hey, someone’s following us, want to join the party?’” she muttered nervously, trying to mask her fear.
Jenna shot her a sharp look. “Just tell her where we are and what’s happening. She’ll know what to do.”
Aliyah hesitated for a split second before dialing your number. “It's ringing.” Aliyah whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.
"Jenna?"
The girl driving couldn't help but feel relief upon the sound of your voice, maybe it was because you both have faced many high stakes situations together and have always made it out on the other side. And in that moment, she felt certain you’d all make it through this one too.
“Okay, so, there’s this car, and it’s been following us for a while. Jenna took a bunch of right turns, and they’re still there. We don’t know who they are, but—”
“Aliyah,” you interrupted, your tone sharp with focus. “Put Jenna on.”
Aliyah quickly handed the phone over, and Jenna brought it to her ear without taking her eyes off the rearview mirror.
“Jenna, can you lose them?” you asked, voice soft, sensing her hesitation.
“I-I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’ve never done this before—what if I mess up? What if—”
“Jenna,” you interrupted gently, but firmly. “Take a deep breath. You’ve got this. But I need you to help me help you, okay? What’s up ahead?”
Jenna blinked, her focus flicking back to the road. “Uh, there’s a left turn coming up, and... a main road with a lot of traffic.”
“Alright, take the left. Make it clean.”
She nodded, her hands slightly shaky as she turned the wheel, the tires squealing lightly.
“Good,” you encouraged. “Now tell me what’s next. What do you see?”
“There’s an on-ramp to the highway coming up,” she said, her voice tight with nerves.
“Perfect. Get on the highway. Blend into traffic and use the cars to block their line of sight.”
“Okay,” she whispered, guiding the car toward the ramp as Aliyah sat rigid in her seat.
“You’re doing great, Jenna,” you said, keeping your voice calm and steady. “Just focus. You’re faster and smarter than them. Trust yourself.”
Jenna weaved into traffic, her grip still tight on the wheel. She glanced in the rearview mirror and tensed. “They’re still back there.”
“Stay calm,” you said. “What’s in your lane? Any big vehicles?”
“Yeah... there’s a semi up ahead,” she replied, her voice rising with nervous energy.
“Good. Get in its blind spot. Use it as cover. When you’re close to an exit, slip off. They’ll have to stay on the highway.”
She exhaled shakily, maneuvering into position as you guided her through. The tension in the car was thick, but she followed your instructions to the letter.
“Whenever you’re ready,” you said softly.
Jenna swerved off the highway, her heart pounding as the pursuing car sped past the exit.
“They’re gone,” she whispered, her voice thick with disbelief.
“You did it, Jenna,” you said, pride clear in your tone.
She let out a shaky laugh, her shoulders finally relaxing. “We did it,” she corrected, a small smile tugging at her lips.
The line went silent for a moment, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. Then, breaking the tension, your voice cut through with a sudden, determined tone.
“Jenna, listen. Can you go home, pack a bag for you and Aliyah, and meet me and Hunter at the mall we went to?”
Jenna’s brow furrowed in confusion. Moments ago, you were adamant about keeping her out of your life, and now you were asking her to pack a bag? She glanced at Aliyah, whose puzzled expression mirrored her own.
Aliyah shrugged dramatically, mouthing, “YOLO.”
“Why?” Jenna asked, her tone cautious.
��I’ll explain everything when we meet. Just trust me and do it, okay?”
Jenna hesitated, her mind racing with questions, but something in your voice made her pause. Finally, she exhaled. “Okay. We’ll meet you there.” And hung up the phone.
“Well, would you look at that—your little lover’s quarrel is finally wrapping up,” Aliyah teased, her grin wide.
“Shut up,” Jenna shot back, though the corners of her lips betrayed her as they curved into a reluctant smile. “I’m still mad at her.”
————
“You two are so confusing,” Hunter chuckled as he drove, his laughter filling the car. “Do you hate each other? Or are you about to jump each other’s bones? Seriously, I can never tell.”
You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t help but think he had a point.
“So, care to explain why we’re all packing a bag and meeting up with them again?” Hunter asked, his tone laced with curiosity.
“We’re going on a weekend getaway,” you replied nonchalantly.
Hunter’s head whipped toward you, excitement lighting up his face. “No way! I’ve always wanted to do the Bahamas.”
You laughed. “Not the Bahamas, Hunt. Just somewhere a few hours away. After everything that went down—the meeting, the girls being followed—I think it’s smart for all of us to lay low for a few days. I’m not taking any chances.”
Hunter nodded dramatically, placing a hand over his chest like he was pledging allegiance. “Protecting your girl and your sister-in-law. I respect it.”
Ignoring his teasing, you redirected him. “Just drive us to the garage,” you said firmly. “I need to let Anton know we’ll be out of town for a few days. The last thing I need is him freaking out and sending a search party.”
————
As Hunter pulls into the garage, you take in the sight of the Sinners hard at work, each one laser-focused on their tasks. Was there a race coming up?
Stepping out of the car, your eyes land on Anton at the back, working on a car with Mason. You hadn't seen Mason in a while—not since the Sinner-Viper race nearly two months ago. Not that you missed him; Mason was one of the most aggravating members of the crew. Apparently, Anton in the moment thought so too, judging by the way he was yelling at him for some reason.
"Hey! Long time, no see."
You turned to see Mikey approaching, her brown eyes bright with curiosity.
She tilted her head, eyes scanning both you and Hunter. "So, what have you two been up to?"
"Oh, you know," Hunter chimed in, "just the usual. Saving the day and eating pancakes"
Mikey raised a brow, her skepticism softened by amusement. “Uh-huh. Sounds like you two are living the dream.”
She shifted her attention to you, crossing her arms. “Haven’t seen you around for a few days. No more late nights at the garage?”
You felt a flicker of unease. Something about Mikey always made you cautious, as if she could see right through you. Keeping your tone casual, you rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, the Aston’s finished, so I’m finally catching up on sleep. Not much reason to be here right now.”
Mikey tilted her head, clearly not satisfied with your vague answer. “Really? And here I thought this place was your second home. What’s been keeping you busy?”
Before you could formulate a response, Hunter swooped in. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re not slacking off. We’re just gearing up for a little road trip.”
“Road trip?” Mikey repeated, her interest clearly piqued.
Hunter nodded, grinning. “Yeah, figured it’s time for some fresh air and open roads. Recharge the batteries, you know?”
You shot him a subtle glare, but he just winked at you, unfazed.
Mikey narrowed her eyes slightly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Interesting. Well, have fun with that. Don’t get into too much trouble.”
“Us? Trouble?” Hunter gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Never.”
"We actually came here to let Anton know we’ll be gone for a couple of days,” you say, flashing Mikey a polite smile. “Catch you later.” Without waiting for a response, you grab Hunter’s arm and drag him along.
“Would it kill you not to spill everything?” you hiss under your breath.
Hunter shrugged, his usual carefree grin firmly in place. “Relax. It’s gonna get out eventually that we’re taking a couple days off. If we act shady, it’ll just make people more suspicious.”
You sighed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
Together, you made your way toward the back of the garage, where Anton and Mason were knee-deep in their latest project.
“I don’t know why I keep you around, Mason,” Anton groaned, his hands dragging down his face in exasperation. “You incompetent fool!”
Hearing your footsteps, he glanced up, his frustration momentarily melting into surprise. “Y/n? What are you doing here?”
“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your tone light. “I'm kind of in a rush, but just wanted to let you know Hunter and I are heading out of town for a couple of days. Figured I’d let you know so you don’t worry.”
Anton’s brows furrowed as he straightened up, eyeing the both of you. “Heading out? What for?”
“Just a road trip,” you said casually, shrugging like it was no big deal. “You know, get some fresh air, clear our heads. Nothing major.”
His eyes flicked to Hunter, then back to you, his suspicion barely veiled. “Where to and who’s going?”
"We don't really know yet, wanna see where the road takes us you know? And just us two," you replied smoothly, lying without hesitation.
Anton’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he was going to press harder. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. But something feels off about this, and I don’t like it.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If this is about something dangerous, you better tell me now. You know I’ll have your back.”
You swallowed hard but maintained your composure. “It’s not, I promise. We’ll be fine.”
He didn’t look convinced. Anton studied you for a moment longer before nodding, though his concern was evident. "Alright. Just be careful out there, okay? Keep your phones on and don't do anything stupid."
"Got it," you promised, trying to sound reassuring.
Hunter gave Anton a mock salute. "We'll be model citizens, swear."
Anton rolled his eyes but didn't press further. As you turned to leave, Mason chimed in from where he was leaning against the car. "Bring me back something cool! Like a souvenir or somethin'!"
Hunter snorted. "Sure thing, buddy. How about a map so you can finally figure out how to navigate a racetrack without crashing?"
You couldn't help but laugh as you walked away, though Anton's lingering concern weighed heavily in the back of your mind.
————
The SUV you “borrowed” from the garage rumbled along the highway as you adjusted your grip on the wheel, glancing at Hunter slouched comfortably in the passenger seat. Your packed bag sat in the back alongside his, evidence of your brief pit stop at home. 
The memory of Anton’s concerned expression lingered, gnawing at you. You hated that you hadn’t told him the truth. He’d lost his father too—same as you—and you knew better than anyone how much that loss shaped him. How much it shaped both of you. But unlike you, Anton didn’t know there was more to the story. That it wasn’t just a tragic accident.
You felt awful for keeping it from him, for standing there and letting him believe everything was fine. But what were you supposed to do? Drop that bombshell and then tell him you were heading out of town for a few days? There was no way he’d have let you leave. No way he wouldn’t try to step in, to get involved.
And as much as it tore you up inside, you couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. Protecting Jenna—and by extension, your fragile alliance with her—had to come first. There was too much at stake, and dragging Anton into it now would only complicate things further. Still, the weight of your silence felt heavier with each passing mile.
“You good?” Hunter’s voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, pulling you back to the present.
“Yeah,” you muttered, though the word felt hollow.
He raised a brow but didn’t push, thankfully. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, letting the conversation from earlier drift back in.
“I gotta admit. I thought Anton would take a lot more convincing.”
Hunter glanced at you with a smirk. “What, you thought he’d put his foot down? He knows you’re stubborn as hell. Probably figured there was no point fighting you on it.”
“Maybe,” you murmured, though a part of you wasn’t so sure. Anton letting you go that easily still didn’t sit right. He’d been wary, his words cautious, but ultimately, he hadn’t stopped you. You wondered if he trusted you more than you expected—or if he had reasons of his own for letting you leave.
Shaking the thought from your mind, you shifted the conversation. “By the way, you seemed pretty comfortable with Jenna and Aliyah back at the diner.”
Hunter shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re cool. Aliyah’s funny, and Jenna’s… well, Jenna. We were just chatting for a bit before you showed up.”
“Before I showed up?” you echoed, glancing at him skeptically. “She didn’t seem in a chatty mood when I got there.”
Hunter chuckled. “I guess I have that effect on people. Smooth-talker, remember?”
Something about the way he said it made you pause, a memory resurfacing. “Wait. Jenna texted you, didn’t she? How do you even know her?”
Hunter tensed ever so slightly, and you didn’t miss it. “Uh… well…”
The gears in your head were starting to turn. “Hunter,” you pressed, narrowing your eyes. “How do you know Jenna?”
He fidgeted with his hands, clearly stalling. “It’s complicated, alright? Don’t worry about it.”
Before you could demand an answer, the bright lights of the mall parking lot came into view, and you spotted Jenna and Aliyah parked and waiting near the back of the mall. Hunter exhaled dramatically, clearly relieved to be off the hook—for now.
"We're here," he announced unnecessarily, pointing out the obvious.
You rolled your eyes but focused on parking the SUV. As soon as you stepped out, Jenna's sharp gaze locked onto you, her arms crossed, while Aliyah waved with a cheeky grin. Whatever Hunter was hiding would have to wait.
You park the SUV next to their car and step out, heading straight for the trunk. Without a word, you pop it open before turning toward Jenna and Aliyah. Stretching out your hands, you motion for their bags.
Aliyah hands over her duffle bag without hesitation, but Jenna hesitates, squinting at you with suspicion. Her scoff cuts through the quiet as you turn around and load the bags into the trunk.
Following you to the back of the SUV, she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "Uhm, are you planning to explain what's going on anytime soon?"
You close the trunk with a sharp thunk and meet her gaze, keeping your tone steady. "I will."
You glance over your shoulder, flashing her a grin. "Oh, and hey—nice work shaking those guys. Not everyone's got those skills. Seriously, you were impressive."
As you turn back to the SUV, Jenna's voice comes softly, almost shyly, "Thanks."
You don't catch it, too focused on adjusting the bags in the trunk, but Aliyah and Hunter exchange knowing looks. Jenna's rare vulnerability wasn't something they saw often, and the faint pink dusting her cheeks didn't go unnoticed either.
————
You merge onto Interstate 5, the highway stretching south through California. The evening sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of gold and fiery orange. Hunter has his window down, one arm draped lazily over the edge, while Aliyah hums along to a faint tune playing on the radio. Jenna sits diagonally across from you, arms crossed, her gaze fixed out the window. The soft pout on her lips and the sharpness of her glare suggest she’s deep in thought—and likely still mad at you.
You glance at her through the rearview mirror, unable to help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Even in her frustration, she looks ridiculously adorable.
As you bring your eyes back to the road, they flicker back to the mirror—and that’s when it happens. Jenna catches your gaze, her sharp brown eyes locking onto yours.
Crap.
She breaks the silence, her tone firm but tinged with curiosity. “Alright, enough stalling. Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”
You’re relieved she doesn’t make a snarky comment about catching you staring. Instead, you sigh and focus back on the road, deciding it’s time to answer her question.
“I’m sorry,” you start, glancing briefly at her reflection, then at Aliyah. “To both of you. You were right earlier… about being involved in all this.”
Hunter nods in silent approval from the passenger seat, encouraging you to keep going. “…As much as I don’t want either of you involved,” you continue, catching him facepalming out of the corner of your eye, “there’s no avoiding it now.”
"Neither one of can help it, and that car following you? It kind of put things into perspective for me. So I think the safe option for all of us to get out of town for a few days."
Jenna raises a brow, her expression unreadable, but she doesn’t respond right away. Aliyah and Hunter both glance at each other, waiting for someone to fill the silence. When Jenna finally speaks, her voice is softer than you expected. “Still didn’t answer the question,” she says. “Where are we going?”
You shrug one shoulder, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t know,” you admit with a lopsided grin. “I’m just driving.”
Jenna stares at you for a long moment before exhaling and shaking her head. She doesn’t voice the acceptance of your apology, but something in her gaze softens, and you can tell she’s made her peace with it—for now.
“Unbelievable,” she mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’re on the run, and you’re winging it? Great plan, genius.”
Aliyah bursts into laughter, and Hunter cheers, “This is classic! Road trip roulette—who needs a destination when you’ve got vibes?” 
Jenna pinches the bridge of her nose, mumbling something under her breath, but you swear you catch the faintest hint of a smile.
————
The next hour passes surprisingly smoothly. Everyone keeps themselves entertained in their own way, avoiding any mention of the issues that pushed you all to leave town in the first place. Aliyah has her headphones in, swaying gently to whatever music she’s listening to, while Jenna scrolls through her phone, occasionally glancing out the window. Hunter fiddles with the radio, switching stations until he finds a faintly decent song, only to switch it again moments later.
You keep your focus on the road, but your mind drifts. A part of you wished you could bring back the easy banter you used to have with Jenna—back before you ghosted her. It would've made the drive so much more fun. Instead, there’s this quiet tension hanging in the air between you two, one you’re desperately hoping will dissolve sooner rather than later. At least Hunter agreed to take over driving on the way back. Maybe by then, things between you and Jenna will be better.
Suddenly, Hunter starts humming, his voice cutting through the silence. At first, it’s aimless, but then it takes shape.
“Ninety-nine bottles of milk on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of milk!” he sings loudly, grinning as he looks around at everyone.
You groan. “Oh, no. Don’t.”
Aliyah chuckles behind you, joining in softly, “Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of milk on the wall!”
Jenna sighs dramatically but mutters, “This is so dumb,” just before she jumps in on the next line. Within minutes, the whole car erupts into an awkward yet oddly harmonious singalong, voices overlapping and laughter spilling between verses. By the time you hit ninety-five bottles, everyone’s belting at the top of their lungs.
It’s ridiculous, it’s cheesy, and it’s exactly what you all needed.
When the laughter finally dies down, Jenna clears her throat. “Uh, I need to pee.”
You glance at her through the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow. Internally, you can’t help but think, Really? We’ve only been on the road for an hour. Did she not go before we left?
But you don’t voice the thought. Instead, you nod, spotting a route stop up ahead. “Alright, we’ll pull over.”
As you exit the highway and roll into the rest stop, Hunter claps your shoulder. “Road trips, man. This is what it’s all about.”
You just shake your head, chuckling as you park the SUV.
————
As everyone steps out at the route stop, the golden light of the setting sun casts long shadows over the parking lot. Hunter stretches dramatically, mumbling something about his aching legs, while Aliyah is already darting toward the brightly lit convenience store, proclaiming her hunt for snacks. Jenna heads to the bathroom, and once she returns she lingers by the SUV, her arms folded, her body language closed.
“Need anything?” you ask, hesitating slightly as you approach her.
She shakes her head but doesn’t look at you. “I’m good.”
You nod, biting back the urge to say more, and join Aliyah and Hunter into the store. The shelves are stocked with everything from bags of chips to questionable gas station sushi.
Hunter immediately gravitates toward the candy aisle, gleefully holding up a pack of gummy worms. “You know you want some,” he teases, tossing a pack at Aliyah, who yelps and tries to dodge.
You chuckle at their antics but can’t help glancing back toward the SUV, wondering if Jenna’s still standing there, or if she’s wandered in.
She hasn’t.
Grabbing a couple of bottled drinks and a bag of chips, you head to the register. Aliyah sidles up beside you, arms full of snacks. “Do you think we should get something for Jenna? She barely ate earlier.”
You hesitate, and recall her eating a chocolate the day you both hung out at the mall and then grab that brand of chocolate from a display near the checkout.
Outside, you find Jenna leaning against the side of the car, scrolling through her phone. You hold out the candy as you approach. “Figured you might want this.”
She glances at it, then at you, her lips twitching like she’s suppressing a thank-you. “Thanks,” she says quietly, taking it without meeting your eyes.
There’s a pause. The others are still inside, their laughter faintly audible from the store. For a moment, it’s just you and Jenna in the fading light.
“You okay?” you ask softly, unsure if you’re even expecting an answer.
She finally meets your gaze, her expression guarded but not unkind. “I’m fine,” she replies, but her tone doesn’t match the words.
You want to push, to ask what’s really on her mind, but something about the way she holds herself stops you. Instead, you nod and step back, giving her space.
She seemed fine interacting with you in the group, she was more vocal. But once it was just you two she got all quiet. But she surprised you with her next words.
She finally glances at you properly, her eyes searching yours. “Thanks, by the way. For this. I know you didn’t have to.”
You swallow, suddenly aware of how close she’s standing. “You don’t have to thank me, Jenna. I just… I want to make sure you’re safe—and your sister!”
She nods faintly, looking down at the ground. For a second, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you under the flickering lights.
Before the moment can stretch too long, Hunter sticks his head out of the car window. “Yo! Are we road-tripping or setting up camp here? Let’s go!”
Jenna chuckles, the tension breaking as she steps back. “Guess we should get going.”
“Yeah.” You push off the SUV, giving her a small nod. “Let’s hit the road.”
As you both climb back into the car, you can’t help but glance at her through the mirror again. She doesn’t notice this time, and you’re glad she doesn’t.
————
"Hey, Y/n, remember the car I was driving yesterday?" Aliyah asks, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over the SUV.
It’s been about two and a half hours since you hit the road, and everyone is busy with their snacks. Conversations drift in and out, short bursts of chatter punctuated by the rustling of wrappers.
You hum softly, urging her to continue.
Aliyah glances at you in the rearview mirror, her tone casual. “It’s pretty cool that you own that car. My dad used to have the same one, and I remember him always going on and on about how rare it was. Small world, huh?” She shrugs, clearly amused by the coincidence.
You and Jenna freeze. For a moment, no one says anything, and the awkward silence hangs in the air like a weight.
You glance at Jenna through the rearview mirror, and she avoids your gaze. Great, you think. Of all the things to come up right now, this had to be it.
“Well…” you clear your throat, deciding Aliyah deserves to know at this point. “That was your dad’s car.”
Aliyah’s brows furrow in confusion. “What? No, his was black.”
“Yeah,” you admit with an awkward laugh, “and then I wrapped it green.”
The realization dawns on her, and she turns to Jenna, her jaw dropping as she whisper yells, “Oh my God! You like the girl who stole Dad’s car?”
Jenna’s eyes widen, and her face flushes. “Aliyah, shut up!” she snaps, but her tone lacks bite.
Aliyah smirks, clearly reveling in her discovery. “I mean, this is peak comedy. She stole Dad’s car, and you’re just fine with it?”
“I’m not fine with it,” Jenna retorts, but her lips curve slightly as if she’s holding back a smile. “And for the record, it was both of us who stole it.”
Aliyah raises her hands in mock surrender. “Oh, so now you’re an accomplice? Love that for you.”
While they bicker in their private conversation, Jenna’s eyes soften, and her gaze turns nostalgic. “That day was insane,” she murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. “We had no idea what we were doing, but it was... kind of thrilling."
Not knowing what the two girls were talking about, you glance at her in the mirror for the millionth time today. Jenna’s smile, faint and genuine, tugs at something deep in your chest, but before you can dwell on it, Hunter’s voice cuts in.
“Well, look at you,” he says with a laugh, nudging your arm. “Stealing the car of the dad of the girl you like. That’s one for the books, huh?”
“Shut up, Hunter,” you groan, shoving his arm off you.
He just grins wider. “Nah, I’m serious. You’ve really outdone yourself here. Romantic and criminal—who knew you had it in you?”
Rolling your eyes, you lean back into the seat, but an idea suddenly strikes you. "Alright, since we're all in a sharing mood, how about this—Hunter, how exactly do you and Jenna know each other?" Your tone pointed, almost teasing.
Silence.
Not a word, not even the rustle of snack wrappers from the backseat.
Aliyah breaks the tension, her brows knitting as she glances at her sister. "Wait...what? I thought we both met Hunter this morning?"
You glance in the rearview mirror. Jenna’s expression is stone cold, her face unreadable, like she’s mastered the art of giving away nothing. She doesn’t so much as blink, just stares out the window as though the question didn’t even register.
Hunter, on the other hand, looks like he’s sweating bullets. His hand fidgets with the strap of his seatbelt, and he clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, well… you see…”
Before Hunter can dig himself into an even deeper hole, Jenna suddenly bursts out laughing. The sound is so unexpected, so completely jarring after the tension-filled silence, that your head whips around to look at her.
Her laughter is light and melodic, the kind that shakes her shoulders and makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. For a second, you forget about the chaos in the car and just stare.
Her laugh is kind of… cute, you think, catching yourself and quickly looking back at the road before anyone notices.
Jenna waves a hand, her laughter dying down just enough to speak. “Relax, Hunter. Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Go ahead, tell them.”
Aliyah sighs loudly from the backseat, crossing her arms. “Okay, my patience is wearing thin. Someone better spill before I start throwing snacks.”
"Okay fine, you tell them Jenna, since you think it's so funny," Hunter mumbles defeated, shrinking into his seat.
Jenna glances at Hunter, who is clearly trying to become one with his seatbelt. With a small shrug, she answers casually, “I walked in on Hunter… being intimate.”
You blink, nearly missing your next lane change. “Oh, wow. That’s… embarrassing,” you mutter, trying not to laugh. But then your brain starts piecing things together, and you frown. “Wait a second. How does that even happen? Like… was this in public or something? Did you come to Brimstone, or were you—”
Hunter interrupts, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I was in Summer Valley, okay?”
You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, okay. Get that bag, I guess. But, man, from the way you were sweating, I thought it was something really bad.”
For a second, you think the tension has finally lifted. But then Hunter lets out a resigned sigh, muttering, “I was with someone from the Viper's crew.”
It all made sense now, why Hunter was so understanding of the idea of you being affiliated with a Viper—why there was two toothbrushes in his bathroom.
He had his own fucking Viper.
“What the fuck?!” you shout, your voice climbing a whole octave as you instinctively swerve the car.
Hunter grabs the oh-shit handle. “Whoa, whoa, focus! You’re driving, not judging!”
“What the fuck Hunter?!” you yell again, steadying the wheel as the SUV veers slightly back into the lane. Thankfully, it’s almost 8 pm, and the highway is relatively empty, so you narrowly avoid disaster. "You're fucking a Viper?! What the actual—"
Hunter throws up his hands defensively. “What’s the big deal?! You are too!”
You slam the brakes—figuratively, of course—your head whipping around to glare at him. “EXCUSE ME?!”
Your face goes red-hot, and you stammer, “I’m not—what—literally who?! I’m not fucking anybody!”
Hunter smirks, sensing your flustered state. “Oh, sure. But you wish you were fucking a Viper.”
If you thought you couldn’t blush any harder, you were wrong. From the backseat, Aliyah is howling with laughter while Jenna buries her face in her hands, her own ears tinged pink.
“You’re delusional,” you snap at Hunter, but your embarrassment only fuels his laughter. “Seriously, who even—"
“Doesn’t matter!” Hunter interrupts, his grin practically splitting his face. “I’m just saying, don’t judge me when you’ve got your own Viper situation brewing back there.”
“Hunter, I swear—”
Aliyah cuts you off, gasping between giggles. “Oh my God, I can’t breathe. This is the best road trip ever!”
Jenna groans softly, pressing a hand to her forehead, but the small, stupid smile tugging at her lips betrays her. She hated being teased, especially by Aliyah, who had the precision of a sniper when it came to embarrassing her. Yet, as the chaos bubbled in the backseat, Jenna found her thoughts wandering to the things Hunter had been saying to poke at you.
What had you two been talking about? Hunter clearly knew something she didn’t, and now, curiosity gnawed at her despite herself. She glanced at you, watching as you muttered under your breath and tightened your grip on the steering wheel like it might save you. It wasn’t just the teasing; something else was making you squirm, and Jenna couldn’t stop the faint curve of her lips from growing into a fuller smile.
She didn’t know what Hunter was hinting at, but the way your ears burned red and your gaze stayed glued to the road… she couldn’t help but find it a little endearing.
————
The freeway stretched ahead in an endless ribbon of asphalt, swallowed by the inky darkness of night. The faint glow of distant city lights barely pierced the dark sky, leaving only the occasional flash of headlights to illuminate the passing road signs and surrounding emptiness. It was quiet now, except for the hum of the tires against the pavement and the faint sound of Aliyah’s soft snores from the backseat. The earlier chaos had subsided, leaving the SUV calm in stillness.
You glanced over at Hunter, slumped against the window with his head bobbing slightly with the movement of the car. He and Aliyah had devoured the candy earlier like children on Halloween and, predictably, crashed hard. For the last thirty minutes, they’d been completely out, and you were silently grateful for the reprieve. Any more teasing, and you were sure your heart would’ve leapt out of your chest.
Your heart was still pounding, though.
You sigh as you wrestled with a thought you’d been avoiding for a while. You never addressed ghosting Jenna. You mentioned to her at the meeting that you’d talk later, but then you didn’t. And now, things between you were stuck in this strange, awkward limbo. You hated it. You hated the distance and the way your banter had evaporated into stilted exchanges.
More than anything, you wanted this trip to be enjoyable for both of you—for her.
“Hey, Jenna you awake?” you said softly, testing the waters. You knew she was awake. Her breathing wasn’t even enough to fool you. You just needed something to break the ice.
“Yeah, what’s up?” she muttered, her voice low to avoid waking her sister.
You hesitated for a moment, your hands flexing nervously against the steering wheel. Then you took a deep breath and decided to do what needed to be done.
“I just… I want to apologize,” you began, keeping your eyes fixed on the road ahead. “For ghosting you. I know it was shitty, and you didn’t deserve it.”
She didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel her eyes on you, listening.
“I… I had a conversation with my mom the first day I didn’t reply to you,” you continued, your voice soft and unsteady. “And it—it messed with my head. I found out my dad wanted out of the Sinners. That completely flipped everything I thought I knew. I was already so confused, and it just made things worse. And then…” You paused, forcing yourself to push through the lump in your throat. “It made me feel terrified. Of everything. Of this whole situation. And of you. Of what you made me feel—what I felt for—”
You clamped your mouth shut, cutting yourself off realizing you spilled too much. Your mind was already coming up with excuses for what you meant by what you made me feel. Heat crawled up your neck, your knuckles stark white against the dim light from the dashboard. You scrambled internally for a way to gloss over your slip-up, but the words weren’t coming.
“I’m not trying to excuse what I did,” you said after a beat. “There’s no excuse for it. I just wanted to explain, to tell you why I acted the way I did. And to say I’m sorry. Really sorry.” 
She's not saying anything. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and you risked a quick glance in her direction, her expression unreadable in the faint glow of the passing headlights.
Panic began to claw at your chest.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you blurted out, your words rushing now. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I know what I did was shitty, and I know I have no right to expect forgiveness—”
"I know you didn't mean to hurt me, Greaser."
Greaser.
You smile.
And that was all she said until Hunter and Aliyah awoken from their slumber twenty minutes later. But it was enough.
————
"Damn, how long was I out?" Hunter grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted in his seat.
Aliyah stretched with an exaggerated groan, yawning as if she'd been asleep for days.
"Only about forty minutes," you replied, glancing at them. The weight in your chest felt lighter after your moment with Jenna, but a part of you braced for the teasing chaos that might erupt now that they were awake.
Aliyah groaned dramatically. "Ugh, I was hoping the driving part would be over when I woke up. Are we seriously just gonna spend days cooped up in this car?"
"We’ve only been driving for like three hours," Hunter pointed out with a shrug.
"And that’s not far enough?" Aliyah raised a brow.
Hunter nodded, turning his gaze to you. "She’s got a point, you know."
"...I have a suggestion." Aliyah finally says.
"Shoot," you encourage her.
She leaned forward slightly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she looked at Jenna. "How about we visit Markus? We’re probably close to him already."
Jenna’s face lit up instantly, her smile matching her sister’s excitement. "That would be amazing, Ali, but… are we really gonna risk leading trouble straight to him?"
Aliyah waved the concern off with a dismissive hand. "Come on, you really think those bad guys are gonna follow us all the way to LA?"
While the sisters debated, you leaned toward Hunter, lowering your voice. "Who the fuck is Markus?"
Hunter smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What’s the matter? You jealous?"
"What? No!" you snapped, scoffing like the idea was ridiculous. But your mind betrayed you, lingering on Jenna’s radiant smile. Who was this guy, and why did she look so happy talking about him?
The sisters’ conversation quieten down, and Aliyah finally addresses you, her grin still firmly in place. "Y/n, how does a trip to UCLA sound?"
next chapter
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icallhimjoey · 1 month ago
Note
eddie?! 👀 did you say EDDIE?!?! 👀👀👀👀
i DID say eddie! i had a tiny idea that fit the version of eddie ive written before (and the only version of eddie ive written before) and so... here we are. i am: so sorry. Wordcount: 6.6K
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Let’s Go Home
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(find all other parts of this story here)
“Let’s go get him.”
You sound very determined for someone completely unsure of how to handle the situation. It’s difficult to watch someone so deeply unhappy struggle with parts of their past they can’t seem to get a grip on.
“I… what?” two wet, red-rimmed eyes stare back at you. Confused. A little annoyed.
“Yea. Come on. Let’s go. We’re packing our bags and we’re going to go pick him up and bring him back here.”
Eddie doesn’t get it. Frowns, entirely unsure of who you’re talking about.
“Steve’s already here… and Wayne is coming here for Christmas, we don’t need to–…” he looks so tired.
“I know we don’t need to.”
It always happened when the days got a little shorter. When the nights got colder and Christmas loomed. When happy, wholesome family moments would be advertised all over the world, and it all became glaringly obvious – once again – how that was something Eddie never got to be a part of when he was little. Not until Wayne took him in and tried his best to make the holidays special in his own way.
No matter how hard Wayne tried, though, the bitter aftertaste of abandonment and loneliness was impossible to get rid of.
Eddie would never admit this to Wayne, but celebrating Christmas just the two of them felt just as pathetic and lonely as it had done when he lived with his parents still.
Different.
Definitely not as traumatizing, which was good.
But still dreary, and sad, with a lot of playing pretend that he was okay and happy and fine.
He was never okay and happy and fine.
Still isn’t okay and happy and fine.
That’s not Wayne’s fault, Eddie knows, and he feels like a shitty person because Wayne always tried his best. Did what he could. It just never quite worked.
Christmas would roll around, and Eddie would get depressed.
That’s just what happened.
Eddie would slip into sadness, scary thoughts intruding happy places they weren’t allowed to settle into, but he’d not yet learnt how to tell them to fuck off. To leave him alone. Didn’t know how to get the uninvited guests out of his house, and felt powerless as he watched them settle into his living room. Nothing he could do about it.
Somber, pensive moments would slowly stretch until they covered most of the day. Mornings were the happiest, still. He’d wake up after falling asleep eventually, never managing to slip into dreams before 3 AM, and for a moment, he’d forget. The short amount of sleep would have him tired enough to not remember the reality of his life for a second, and in those moments, it would just be you in bed with him and that would be the only thing in existence.
It’s awful to feel reality set into someone’s body mid-hug.
You wish you knew how to keep it out.
Over the years Eddie had learnt he had to vocalize his feelings. His thoughts. Knew that a burden shared was a burden halved, but knowing things in theory didn’t make them easier in practice.
“What can I do? Let me help.” You’d whisper, and Eddie was lucky you’d known each other for so long. There were no worried questions of are you okay, or a concerned soft hey what’s wrong.
You know he’s not okay, and you know what’s wrong.
“You, here. That’s all you need to do.” Eddie would murmur and he’d pull you in to hold you for a short while. And sometimes, that would temporarily fix him.
There is part of Eddie that honestly thinks if he doesn’t think about it, that it’ll be okay.
If he ignores it for long enough, it might go away by itself.
He’s lucky that sometimes, it does.
He pretends that the foundation of shit that he’d been given for his life hasn’t got all the cracks in. The house he has tried to build on top might shake a bit in the wind, but he can convince himself that the strong support beams that have been put in place will make sure the whole thing doesn’t collapse.
But it’s getting closer and closer to Christmas, and he’s sinking deeper and deeper into everything that’s dark, and cold, and uncomfortable, and painful, and scary.
Everything is designed to make people feel happy around this time of year, and he’s in LA where the sun shines all year long and it doesn’t even really get cold at all. Not like it gets cold in Hawkins. The days don’t really get that much shorter, and he can go outside in a T-shirt and be fine. But maybe that’s precisely the problem right now; there’s no quick get inside the house, and no let me warm your hands up for you.
The comfort of a frozen nose that get nuzzled back to life is unattainable in LA.
“Can you go to another meeting? Would that help, do you think?” you silently ask him one evening, hidden under the covers and too tired to stay awake for much longer, even though you know Eddie’s wide awake next to you. He’ll toss and turn for a couple more hours after you’ve drifted off.
“Yea, of course. I should.” Eddie is quick to reply, but you know he doesn’t want to.
Talking about his addiction with strangers when he’s trying his best to pretend it’s not there will just make things worse, he thinks. Logically, he knows it probably won’t, but there’s always that fear.
“Can I join you?”
You feel how Eddie shifts in bed, probably to take a look at you, but your eyes are closed and you’re about to fall asleep. This isn’t the time to fall into a conversation in which he asks you why on earth you would want to hear a lot of people you don’t know talk about a lot of drastic measures you don’t need to know people let themselves be pushed to sometimes.
So instead, you feel a kiss press to your temple, and he whispers, “Sure you can.”
At first, Eddie doesn’t say much in the meeting you join him for. You mostly listen to issues other people bring forward, and try to think of things you’d do if Eddie was the person speaking. If he was the one with all of those problems. How would you help?
How would you fix it?
When a kind, soft-spoken voice asks if there’s anyone new who wants to share, a lot of eyes fall on you, and you shift in your seat. Sit up a little. Feel Eddie squeeze your hand in his which could have meant, it’s okay, you can tell people why you’re here, but instead it means, I got this.
Eddie talks.
Tells everyone about how he feels like he’s deep in a depression and that he doesn’t really know how to get out of the dark pit he’s fallen into.
How it feels like he’s five years old and stuck in a small dark room, and he’s feeling all over the walls but can’t locate the light switch, and the longer he’s looking, the more he starts feeling claustrophobic in there.
You make the mistake of asking him if he can call out for help.
“Have you tried asking? Maybe someone else can turn the light on for you…”
Eddie breaks down, elbows on his knees, face hidden from the group as he looks at the wooden floor boards through his tears.
It’s not your fault.
Eddie doesn’t expect you to understand the feeling of being so utterly helpless and alone that he knows there’s no use in even trying to call for help.
No one would’ve answered.
You scoot your seat closer to his, and lean into his side as you wrap an arm around his back, fingers curling around his shoulder. It’s nice. He needs it. He also knows there’s thirteen pairs of eyes on him and he doesn’t know how to tell you that no matter how hard you’ll try, you won’t be able to actually fix anything.
“Let me turn the light on. Let Steve, or let Wayne– Robin… we can all help turn the light on. We’ll fly Wayne out, Robin too, and anyone else that you want. They can all move in, we have the space for it. Just… please, let us turn the light on, Eddie…”
It’s the fucking sweetest thing he’s ever heard, but he can reach for the light himself now. He can find it in the dark, and he can turn it on. The problem is that it doesn’t make a fucking difference.
Turning a light on now doesn’t change anything about his past.
Eddie gets asked if he has anything more to share. He sniffs and wipes his face with both his hands before he sits up and leans back and says, “Thank you, but um, no. I don’t. It’s this time of year, I guess. I know it’ll pass.”
You hold hands, fingers intertwined, as you listen to everyone else share more of their own personal issues, and when you leave Eddie puts his arm around you and pulls you close to kiss the side of your face. He tells you that he loves you, that he’s glad that he came, and he thanks you for coming with him.
You can see in his eyes that none of it helped.
Eddie lets himself sink deeper and all you can really do is be there for him. Be there when he wakes up and be there when he goes to sleep. You give him the gift of routine. Of healthy meals. Of pleasant walks outside. Long showers after.
It helps.
But it doesn’t fix anything.
You try your best at damage control. Talk to Steve. Call Wayne a lot.
And it helps.
But about two weeks later, Eddie starts isolating.
He had never isolated before.
Not like this.
He’s in his home studio, hyperfocussing on four seconds of a song he’s working on, and when you interrupt to tell him you’re going to go to bed, he says he’ll come up in a minute. He just needs to figure this bit out. “I’m so close, I can taste it.” Eddie smiles a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and for a moment you think Eddie’s going to let you listen to his work in progress. He always asks for your opinion, but this time he doesn’t. He just looks at you with a smile that’s just there for reassurance until you leave him alone.
At 5 AM you get woken up by Steve, who softly says, “You need to come downstairs…” and leads the way for you.
“I got up to pee, and the bathroom is right above the studio…”
You find Eddie in the exact same spot, going over the exact same four seconds of music.
He looks like he’s being tortured, barely able to keep his eyes open. When you gently pry the guitar from his hands, his breathing changes, and you think if he would have had the energy to sob, he would have cried like a child.
“Let’s go to bed, Eddie.”
Eddie lets you take him upstairs, but then locks himself in the bathroom and when you ask if he can let you in, all you can hear are soft sniffles whilst the shower runs.
It’s then that you decide.
Something is different this time around.
Something deeper has bubbled up, and you know whatever you are doing here, in LA, to help him simply will not be enough.
You establish a plan and pull out two suitcases that you place onto your bed. You’re going to pack your bags and you’re going to go get him.
It’s clearly necessary.
Eddie is no longer letting you comfort him and you’re scared that the next step is going to be a relapse.
“What are you doing?”
“Let’s go get him.”
“I–… what?”
Eddie hasn’t slept, and his unwashed hair is wet from the shower he’s sat in for a while, and you’re very calmly and methodically folding clothes into a suitcase. You might as well be speaking in a different language right now.
“Yea. Come on. Let’s go. We’re packing our bags and we’re going to go pick him up and bring him back here.”
Eddie slowly moves to sit down on the bed, and he looks at what you’re doing for a moment before he sighs and softly says, “Steve’s already here… and Wayne is coming here for Christmas, we don’t need to–…”
He stops speaking when he sees your slight smile.
“I know we don’t need to.” You say and Eddie doesn’t like how you look at him with so much care in your eyes. He doesn’t think he deserves it.
Doesn’t deserve you.
“Do you want to bring both of your black hoodies?” you then ask, not giving him a chance to question what’s happening, and so he just goes, “Yea… yea, sure.” before he lets himself fall backwards onto the mattress where he shuts his eyes.
You let Eddie sleep for as long as sleep will hold him. Pack up both suitcases and let Steve help you book travel back home.
“Do you want to come?” you ask when Steve is on the phone to a travel agent. He is listening to the woman who’s reading him back information he’s just given her, so he can’t answer you, but he reaches out and holds your hand whilst you listen to him book two tickets to Indiana.
When he gets off the phone he reaches for your other hand as well and says, “I’ll watch the house.”
You give him a slight frown. “You know he’d love you to come with us… Wayne says Hawkins is covered in snow. We could watch Christmas films in the trailer… get Robin and run across Lover’s Lake again… or, call Dustin and, I don’t know, Eddie could challenge him to a snow ball fight and they could play–”
“Dustin’s 26 years old.”
“Yea...” you frown at Steve. “So?” you sound desperate.
Steve huffs a laugh as he rubs his thumbs over your hands. He grimaces a little before he says, “No offense, but… he doesn’t need us out there. Of course you’ve got to go with him, but every other person is going to be one too many.”
And Steve’s right.
The next day, Steve joins you outside as you’re about to leave. He hugs Eddie for a long time by the trunk of the car, and you know they’re softly talking to each other. You can only see Eddie’s back, and Steve’s face is hidden by all of Eddie’s curls, but suddenly you can hear Eddie laugh before he pokes Steve in the side.
You get hugged next.
Eddie doesn’t sleep on the flight. Just stares out the window and gets lost in thought. You know he’s not entirely sure of why you’re taking him back to Hawkins, but he’s also not asked about it again.
When your rental car stops in front of Wayne’s trailer, you turn the engine off and sit in silence for a moment as you both just… look at it. It’s four in the afternoon, but it’s getting dark outside already.
Forest Hills.
A surprisingly large lot of land that holds about twenty-four sporadically placed trailers; some of them neatly lined up, others facing whichever way. Wayne’s trailer was one of those ones, placed diagonally to the road, surrounded by dry grass for most of the year which was now hidden by a thick layer of snow.
Momentarily, everything about the image that you’re looking at looks like it’s 1987. Maybe 1988. You can easily envision a younger version of yourself running up to that same front door, it swinging open before you could even get up the steps, Eddie bursting through just to throw you over his shoulder and haul you inside.
“We’re here...” you break the silence, stating the obvious, and find Eddie’s hand to squeeze.
It’s a little silly, but it looks like he’s scared.
“Did you tell him we were coming?”
“Wayne?”
Eddie turns to look at you, slightly confused because, yea who the fuck else?
“Yea. I called Wayne.”
You watch how Eddie takes a breath. Watch that information settle within him.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
And Eddie does. Doesn’t want to do anything without you, ever.
But he takes a shaky breath and says, “I’ll come get you in a second.” before he opens the door and gets out of the car.
Footsteps crunch in the snow, and you watch Eddie, hands in pockets, rush up the steps to what used to be the trailer that he lived in with his uncle. The trailer that he found home in when he was about seven years old and Wayne had decided that his bedroom could actually be Eddie’s bedroom instead for a while.
A while turned into fifteen years in the blink of an eye.
You watch Eddie hug Wayne through the window. It’s another long embrace, but this one doesn’t part with boyish grins and jabbing fingers. Instead, you can see how Eddie goes limp in Wayne’s arms a little, and when he goes to pull back, Wayne just… holds on.
Just a little longer.
It feels a little wrong to be watching them like this, chin perched on the steering wheel, fingers hidden in your sleeves. It feels especially invasive when you see how when they eventually part, the first thing both men do is bring their sleeves to their faces to dry what has become wet.
Then, Eddie steps away. Slowly walks towards the room that used to be his bedroom, and he goes alone.
Good, you think.
That’s good.
Wayne didn’t understand at first, when you told him over the phone. That you were coming over for a strange, but important visit. But this was good.
It takes a while.
Your fingers start to lose their feeling a little as you wait in the car, but it’s fine. You are not the priority right now.
When Eddie eventually emerges from the trailer, you get out of the car, and wait for him to call for you. A, come on. Come inside. It’s fucking freezing out here.
Instead, you get silence. Eddie doesn’t stop walking to wave you over.
He makes his way all the way over to where you’re stood next to the car, and then, he hesitates for a moment.
Eddie can’t look you in the eye.
“Everything okay?”
You know it’s not.
“He um…” Eddie starts, voice trembling. “He’s not here.”
“What?”
Eddie moves closer to place a kiss to your temple, eyes looking away, over the top of the car, across the trailer park. “He’s not here. I didn’t find him.”
Eddie steps around you and gets into the passenger seat, and for a moment, you stand with both shoes in slush whilst you try to think of what to do next. When you look back at the trailer, you catch Wayne through he window. Gives you a smile and a wave.
For a moment you contemplate running over, up those same steps, to ask what happened inside. Maybe Wayne has answers to questions you keep asking yourself.
Before you can, Eddie roars the engine back to life.
You give Wayne a wave back from where you’re stood and round the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You can talk to Wayne later.
Back inside the car, you put your seatbelt on and look at Eddie for a moment. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gearshift, and he’s biting his lip as he stares into space.
“If he’s not here…” you start pensively.
“It’s quite the drive.” Eddie answers, unmoving.
“We have the time.”
“I don’t think we’d make it back here before midnight.”
“Hey,”
Eddie turns his head to look at you.
“We have time.” You repeat yourself and place your hand on the back of his head where you softly scratch your fingers into his hair. “You good to drive?”
You don’t get an answer. Instead, Eddie puts the car in reverse and starts backing out. Just before he’s about to fully leave Forest Hills Trailer Park, he stops the car, even though there’s no traffic to wait for.
“I can drive if you want me to–”
“N-no, that’s not it. I can drive, but I…”
Eddie stares. Looks at his hands and just sits in silence, going through it. Then suddenly, he takes his seatbelt off, opens his door and quickly says, “I’ll be right back.” and he runs.
Left in a car with a running engine and a wide open door, you turn in your seat to watch Eddie’s breath leave him in white clouds as he runs back to the trailer, back up the steps, back inside. You’re too far away to see in the windows now.
It only takes a minute.
When he comes back, jogs down those steps in the snow, he looks a little lighter somehow. Like running back towards the car is a little easier.
Eddie gets back in the car, and he’s all loud inhales and rough exhales, hands rubbing together because it’s cold and he just ran through the snow, but then he looks at you as he puts on his seatbelt and he smiles.
There’s tears in his eyes, but he’s smiling.
“Had to tell him it’s okay. That I’m okay.”
Somehow, Eddie is beaming and solemn at the same time, but you’re happy that something has changed a little. That he seems to get it. You sink into your seat a bit more when Eddie pulls onto the road and starts heading south.
Eddie told you once, years ago, that he used to live in a motel before he came to Hawkins. How that’s all his parents could afford, and even then, they were always fighting with the front desk about money. Always late on payments.
It was just one big room, and even though it was just him, his mother and sometimes his dad, there were always people in their room. Strangers. Friends, his mother would tell him. Sometimes she’d even tell him, this is your Uncle Frank, and Eddie would be forced to shake the hand of a man he had never seen before and would never see again.
Eddie spent a lot of his early childhood confused.
He spent a lot of his childhood hiding.
Afraid.
Alone.
He wouldn’t ever trust anyone. People told him one thing and then they would laugh together and they would do something else.
Adults were evil, and yet the world was made so that adults were the ones that had to look after him. That made the decisions. That told him, go play outside, even if rain was coming down hard, and Eddie would have no other choice but to listen. To do as he was told.
He was only a little kid.
When Eddie was seven years old, he got kicked out of the room at eight in the morning and got told to not come back until they were ‘ready for him’.
Like he knew what that meant.
No one had told him how to tell time.
Eddie didn’t go to school.
But he knew that being sent outside meant that he had to go find his own entertainment for a while, and so he did.
Eddie was seven years old when he came back around lunch time with skinned knees and grass stains in his shorts, and there was commotion.
Lots of people.
People in uniforms.
A cop car.
A kind woman who asked him if he had lost his way. If she could help him get home. Eddie had just smiled and said, no thanks, and had tried to hide in the spot where he always hid. Adults were not to be trusted, Eddie knew. No matter how kind they looked.
Eddie was seven years old when he got pulled from his safe space, his little hiding spot, kicking and screaming, and got brought over to Wayne’s trailer. He’d never been back to that motel room again. Had never even gotten close.
The sun has fully set by the time you pull up outside of an old, run down motel that looks like it should’ve been torn down ages ago. Most windows are boarded up, paint on the walls is chipping and what used to be a light-up sign has been torn down.
It’s a dump.
Just trying to imagine someone growing up here has you choking up.
Little four-year-old Eddie running around these grounds? In dirty clothes too big for his body because nobody was feeding him right? Being exposed to things no child should ever be exposed to, simply because his bedroom was also the only room they had?
Before you can let it make you cry, you hear a faint chuckle beside you.
It’s small and weak, but it’s a chuckle none the less.
“I remember this place much bigger,” he says, like it’s funny. “There’s only like… seven rooms.” Eddie counts.
You’re momentarily unsure if coming here was a good idea. If facing this reality of his past is going to be doing him any good. If it won’t just break him down even more. But then Eddie turns to look at you and says, “Come, let me show you.”
Eddie visiting the place where he spent the first few years of his life turns into him giving you a surprisingly pleasant tour of the grounds. He recounts the other people that lived there, the rooms he wasn’t allowed into. How there used to be a soda machine here, and how sometimes the older kids would ask him to get them some cans for free, because his arms were small and skinny enough to just sneak them out the bottom.
It’s easy to skim the surface of this place like this.
To make it about showing you around instead of sinking down past the layers of self-protection that would have him walking around here with wobbly legs.
Yea.
This is easier. Better.
All of the doors are locked, but it doesn’t take much more than a good shove of a shoulder for the locks to give way. For the wood of the doorframes to splinter.
“Entering the Forest Hills way.” Eddie grins, and you suppress a smile. It’s a lie. Forest Hills is full of all honest, all hard-working people. But, it’s still a trailer park, and thus, the joke is funny.
Without much care, Eddie easily manages to open every door he comes across. It’s dark everywhere you go, none of the lights work, but the streetlights out front provide you with plenty of it, and your eyes quickly adjust.
Eddie shows you the laundry. Breaks into a little back office. A supply closet. Some other motel rooms - some that had semi-permanent guests staying there too, just like he used to be one. And some that would have overnight guests that didn’t know about the draft that would make the door slam so hard, you’d lose your fingers if they got caught in between.
It’s almost joyful, how Eddie talks about his memories. He hasn’t got many, he was so young, but every time he comes across something he remembers, he seems pleasantly surprised at his brain’s ability to bring it all back to him.
But then, when you eventually stop outside room number five, he pauses.
Stops.
Stares at the doorknob.
You can feel how his entire demeanor changes, and even though it’s painful to witness, you know that this is why you came here. This is the whole reason you drove all the way out here.
Eddie takes a good, deep breath but doesn’t move otherwise. Just keeps his eyes locked on a rusty old doorknob to a locked door of a room that probably looks exactly like all the other ones Eddie had already shown you.
“Is this where you lived?” you ask, doing your best to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. You don’t want to scare him off. Don’t want to trigger something.
Eddie nods, a barely-there up and down movement of his head, and then he goes for the doorhandle, rattles it weakly.
Keeps staring at it.
“Door’s locked.” He croaks, like that had been a problem for any of the other doors.
But it does make sense.
You understand that the person who opened up all those other doors was Eddie in his thirties, showing you around.
The person staring at the doorknob now, was Eddie as a child.
Afraid to go inside, unsure of what he was going to find there.
Not strong enough.
Maybe only just tall enough to even reach.
But, you were strong.
You had witnessed how a little force had gone a long way with these locks, and after giving Eddie a second to maybe ask for help, because God, you really wanted him to realize he could just ask for help, he doesn’t ask for shit, and you decide to take matters into your own hands.
Before Eddie even registers you taking a few steps back to get a running start, the wood of the door has already split from the blow of your shoulder.
“Oh my G–” Eddie jumps, both arms reaching out to grab at you and to pull you close. He makes sure he holds you where you ran into the door, large palm cupping over the curve of your shoulder, and he rubs the skin there. Which helps, because, you’re not really hiding the fact that Jesus fuck that fucking hurt very well.  
Despite the sting, there’s a moment where you both see the humor in what just happened, and looking at each other, you both let huffs of laughter escape you.
“Are you crazy? What you do that for, huh?” Eddie pretend scolds.
You shrug, “Forest Hills way.”  
The comedic relief is so welcome, but it’s short-lived. You see from up close how Eddie’s expression drops. He goes from looking at his insane girlfriend with all the love he’s got for her spilling from his eyes, to looking over your head into the dark room where he used to live, and it all slips away.
You wait by the door.
Want Eddie to do this alone because you think it’ll be better that way.
You also truly don’t know what to do, so it feels a little safer to just… wait outside. You wouldn’t know how to help anyway.
Just like when you were outside of Wayne’s trailer, it feels a little invasive to look at Eddie as he silently takes slow steps inside and looks around. At the same time, you can’t really look away. If he’s going to break down and fall to his knees, you want to be there within a second to pick him back up.
Eddie trails slow fingers along a dresser.
Takes careful steps towards a nightstand of which he opens and then closes the drawer.
“Huh…” he comments. Looks around the full room again, sees it in different light as he stands in another corner, the lights from outside showing him different parts of the room.
He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he steps back out, and he looks… confused.
Surprised, maybe. A little dumbfounded.
He gives the room another glance, and then turns to find you watching him in silence.
“This is really weird,” Eddie comments, both eyebrows raised.
“Yea? How so?”
“I don’t know… it’s different. It’s not like I remember. I think… I don’t know, I think my mind made this room the most terrible place ever in the world, but it’s just… it’s just a room. There’s nothing…” Eddie twirls on the spot, “Yea, it’s just a room. Nothing’s… nothing is scary.”
You swallow audibly, and hesitate before you speak.
“It’s not scary.” Eddie concludes again before you can say anything, and he raises both shoulders at you in a long shrug, like he’s trying to convince you that it’s all right.
You’re not the one who needs convincing though.
“Is, um…” you start, and you clear your throat, entirely unsure of how Eddie is going to react to your question.
After visiting Wayne, you think he gets it now.
He gets why you took him back to Indiana.
Eddie has let his eyes fall on a weird piece of wall art he doesn’t remember, something that maybe they added to the room after his parents had been kicked out, and he’d been taken away to go live somewhere safer.
“Is he here?”
“Huh?”
“Is he in here, somewhere?”
It takes a moment of Eddie looking at you before he fully registers what you’re talking about.
His gaze drifts towards the closet next to the bathroom door.
It’s shut. Both bifold doors closed.
Eddie stalls for a moment, and then he raises an arm to open one of the doors before he drops it by his side again.
The closet’s empty.
It seemingly comes from nowhere, the way your lips suddenly quiver. How your eyes well up with tears so quickly. You have to cover your mouth with your hand to remain silent; this isn’t about you.
Eddie is slowly taking it all in, looks around the inside of the closet. The stains in the carpet. The peeling wallpaper. The mismatched hangers, a couple plastic ones amongst a couple more wire ones. And then he looks up and finds the the little yellowed piece of string that hangs down from way up high.
He reaches up and pulls it.
An audible click is heard.
Nothing changes though.
No light springs on.
Eddie pulls it again. Softly smiles. Pulls it a couple more times.
Click, click.
Click, click.
Nothing happens.
You’re about to burst with a violent sob when you see how Eddie, entirely in his own thoughts, inside of his own memories, slowly steps into the closet and closes the door behind him.
You hear the clicking of the light a couple more times, and need to step away.  
It’s too much.
The visuals of a tiny little malnourished Eddie hiding in a closet unable to reach the string of the light in there is going to make you hyperventilate if you’re not careful, so you have to take a walk.
It’s fucking freezing but hot tears trail down your cheeks as you hurry back to your rental car.
It doesn’t take much longer for Eddie to step outside, leaving the place where he spent the first few years of his life. His long legs carry him over to you quickly.
You can tell that he’s holding back sobs until he’s close enough to crash himself into you.
Arms wrap so tightly, they almost hurt. Bodies wrack with silent sobs until deep breaths calm the both of you down.
It takes a good while.
Eddie is first to pull back, and whilst cupping your face, both his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes in a bid to rid you of your tears, he manages to squeak, “Found him.”
“Yea?” you ask wetly. Hopeful.
This is why you came out here.
To find the small version of Eddie who, even as a toddler, knew that calling out for help was a waste of time because the calls would go unanswered.
To take him home.
“Turned on the–” Eddie throat closes up before he can even say it.
“Turned on the light for him?” you finish for him, and he just nods as he presses his lips together to keep them from wobbling.
Eddie goes in for another hug, hides his face in the side of your neck and grounds himself there.
You can feel how he’s actively trying to steady his own breathing.
It works, eventually.
“Did you…” you start, still holding him, but falter for a moment.
“Did I what?” Eddie asks, sniffing loudly, pulling back after you nudge your nose into his hair.
“Did you take him with you?”
It’s such a silly question. Eddie can’t help the smile that carefully plays at the corner of his mouth, and his eyebrows scrunch up as he looks down at you. He can dissect the question that pops up in the back of his brain for the fourth time today another time. How can he even begin to figure out why he deserves someone like you in his life?
“I did.” He confirms, and you let the breath you were holding escape you in a shudder.
He doesn’t think he deserves you.
“Good.” you smile, and maybe things are starting to look up, a little. Maybe the universe is slowly starting to make amends with Eddie. Is starting to apologize for all the shit it put little Eddie through in this godforsaken place no one should spend more than a single night at.
“Let’s take him home then.”
Eddie cries.
Thought he was done, but he’s not.
He lets you press kisses to the skin just underneath his eyes as he closes them.
He lets you open the car door and help him into the passenger’s seat.
Lets you drive all the way back to Wayne’s whilst he cries, because this is the second time little Eddie makes this trip, from the motel to Forest Hills. But this time he’s not scared.
He knows he’s going to go to a better place.
A safer place.
To a person who will try his very best hand at proper damage control. Who’s got a nice trailer, and a room that will get turned into his own bedroom three days into his stay.
To a person who will join Eddie in the closet for those first few nights. Who will just bring him food in there, have their dinner hidden away together, and who won’t force him out.
Who will play silly games with him in there, until the trips to the bathroom feel safe enough to do on his own.
There’s never other people in the trailer.
Just them.
Safe.
Eddie cries as he remembers more. Thought he had forgotten almost everything, but he remembers so much. He can’t talk about anything yet. Not now. His voice won’t let him. But that’s okay. You’ve got the radio on and need to focus on the road, and you’re taking him back to Wayne, and all he really wants to do is sleep.
And you just drive, and hold Eddie’s hand as he clings to you, and this is good.
It’s good.
Little Eddie deserves the fucking world.
You think so.
And you know of a handful of people who would wholeheartedly agree.
Slowly, you think Eddie might start to understand where you’re coming from.
He was never okay and happy and fine.
Still isn’t okay and happy and fine.
But the light has been switched on.
There’s light now.
He might one day be okay and happy and fine, and that’s something that before today was the most difficult thing to grasp.
“We’re taking you home, kiddo. I got you.” Eddie whispers, soft enough so only he can hear it over the engine and the music coming from the radio.
“Let’s go home.”
---
The Taglisted
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@notverywise, @overthinking-raccoon, @pepperstories, @pinchofhoney, @readergf
@royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson
@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow
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slasherbvnnie · 2 years ago
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Until We Found You | Part V
Part V is finally out!! I enjoyed writing this one a lot! I still have some more chapters in mind, especially for the big reveal. Not sure how many I can write out, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon.  Sorry it’s a bit short this time! The next part is going to be longer. As usual, heed the tags
Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
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word count: 1836
“Don’t you know the trope of never having sex in horror films?” The other line asked you, making you laugh, “you didn’t kill me the first time, why would it be any different now?” You asked as you sat out on your front porch, taking a seat on the bench outside. “What if someone else made you star in their movie, huh? Wouldn’t you be part of their film instead,” they said as you laughed, “yeah, but then it could be some big cross over. Like alien versus predator or king kong and Godzilla, I would kinda like to see that, my two boys fighting for protecting me.” You teased as they chuckled. 
“I heard you wanted both of us there tonight,” they hummed, making you smile, “so you’re the one who makes the calls?” you asked before continuing, “I want you both here…alongside a new lingerie outfit too, you boys are really racking up a total. You two should take me shopping sometime.” You suggested playfully, wishing that you could go out in public with the two. “Maybe someday,” they said, sounding a little more somber now. “Will you two ever let me know who you are?” You asked, it had been on your mind lately, but the silence gave you your answer. “I guess you still can’t trust me, huh? It’s fine, I’ll find a way to prove it to you two.” You said, hearing another phone call coming in. “I have to let you go now, one of my friends is calling, I’ll see you two tonight, right?” You questioned, “we’ll be a little later tonight but don’t worry, we’ll be there.” They promised you before hanging up. Y
ou smiled, answering the new call coming in. “Hey! Me and Stu were gonna head out for lunch soon, did you wanna join? Sid’s gonna call Billy to see if he wanted to go,” Tatum’s voice said, you debated for a moment before agreeing. “Great! Me and Stu will pick you up, we can pick up Randy too afterwards,” she said as you hummed. “Sounds good, I’ll get ready now,” You said, hanging up after saying goodbye. Your eyes lingered out into the street, you couldn’t help but feel as if there was someone watching you, wondering if your secret stalker was watching over you right now. Part of you wished they’d just come out and reveal themselves to you, pull off their mask and show you their faces. You let out a sigh, getting up from the bench and heading back inside the house to get ready.By the time Stu’s car pulled up to your driveway you were ready, hair and outfit finished along with just the right amount of makeup for you. 
You could hear the music playing from outside, wondering at which point in time Stu would finally lose his hearing, you gave him another 10 good years. You texted your parents that you were going out with your group again, promising them to be home before curfew. Curfew had bummed you out recently, you made a mental note to tell your masked killers that you were mad at them for making Woodsboro go under a curfew, everything sucked now that nothing was open past 6. “Hey Macher, calm it with the stereo,” you said as Stu chuckled, “can’t help it, I like making my presence known,” he said as he turned up the music louder. You rolled your eyes, chatting with Tatum as you all headed to pick up the others. 
Sid and Billy met you at the restaurant, already sitting down at a booth when you all arrived. It was about an hour later, everyone finished with their food and just spending time chatting about whatever came up. “Did you guys hear about Oliver?” Randy asked as Tatum nodded, “Dewey said it was even worse than Casey and Steve, said you couldn’t recognize him at all,” she added in as your eyebrows furrowed. “Sid said the neighbors tried getting the killer, did Dewey say anything about that?” You questioned as Tatum shook her head, “no, he said the neighbor tried to shoot at them but they missed. Said they took off into the woods,” she said, you growing worried if they had been hurt. They didn’t mention anything on the phone so you assumed they weren’t, making you relax a bit. “Maybe it was your mystery date,” Randy teased, making you glare at him, “I mean we were talking about him yesterday, maybe your boyfriend got mad about him and decided to off him as some romantic present,” he added as you laughed. “Right, cause I totally want to be an accomplice,” you joked as you rolled your eyes, but you did wonder if that was true.
 Oliver had bullied others as well, so you didn’t put it past them to have also been one of his victims. Though, the thought that they did it for you made your heart beat faster. “I think you cracked the code Meeks,” Billy teased, noticing your reddening cheeks, “are you all forgetting she was almost killed by them?” Sidney brought up as Stu hummed, “well she is still alive, maybe Randy was right with them doing it to cover up their tracks,” he said as you scoffed. “Can you jackasses back off before I take my turn at you?” You said jokingly, waving the butterknife on your plate around playfully. 
Later that night you sat in bed, rewatching the Texas Chainsaw Massacre on your laptop with Irena purring and fast asleep on your lap. You snacked on some popcorn as you watched the movie, looking to your side as you saw Tatum calling you. You hit pause on the movie and answered as you ate another piece of popcorn, “whats up, Tate?” You asked as she quickly spoke, “holy shit! They almost got the killer!” she yelled into the phone, making you sit up. “What?” You questioned as she laughed. “The killer! They were going after some of Oliver’s friends. They were having a celebration for him and one of the guys actually fucking stabbed them! Dewey said they were chasing them down but lost them a few moments ago, they said the police are gonna be waiting at the hospital incase anyone comes in with a stab wound,” she said, you carefully moved Irena off your lap and set your laptop on your vanity as you looked out your window. You could see the black outfit moving and struggling to climb up, “shit, that’s awesome Tate, let me know if Dewey calls you again, I’m gonna go tell my parents,” You spoke, hanging up the phone and putting it down as you pushed your window open. 
“Seriously? Going after the whole fucking football team?” You asked angrily, putting your hand out to help them inside. You shut the window after they got in, seeing them collapse onto the floor. “Shit, hold on,” You said as you rushed to your bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit and rushing back to their side. You were about to lift up the robe before they grabbed your wrist, pushing your hand away. You felt a little hurt that they still didn’t trust you, but pointed in the direction of the restroom. “You can patch yourself up in there, my friend said the police are going to be at the hospital, you can’t go,” you said, seeing the flashing of police lights pass by outside. “Is the other one okay?” You questioned them, getting a nod as they hubbled to the bathroom. After half an hour they emerged from the bathroom, taking a seat on your desk chair. “Are you okay? Did the bleeding stop?” You fretted over them, getting a nod as they motioned you over. They grabbed your wrist, holding your hand up to their chest so you could feel their steady heartbeat. You relaxed before pushing on their chest, huffing at them. “The whole fucking football team, you’re actually fucking crazy,” you huffed out before gently rubbing where you had pushed them. “The other one, he got away okay?” You asked, smiling when you got another nod. “You can stay as long as you need tonight, the police are probably out searching for you,” you said, sighing softly as you looked to them. “Don’t think I forgot about that lingerie set either, it was pretty expensive,” you said jokingly, earning a laugh from behind their mask. “I’m gonna head to bed, I have an exam tomorrow,” you said, giving a little kiss to their mask. “If you wanna join at least take off your clothes, I won’t look, I promise. You can even blindfold me if you don’t trust me,” you offered, heading to bed. They followed after you, you laid down and closed your eyes, facing them so they could see that you weren’t looking. They began to shuffle out of the costume, going to your door and locking it before heading back to your bed. They laid down behind you, wrapping their arms around you and holding you close.
You fell asleep easily in their hold, relaxing in their arms throughout the night. A few hours later you woke up to muffled voices in the bathroom, you sat up and rubbed your eyes as you looked to see the morning sunlight lighting up your room. “I’m fine, just spent the night at her place,” you heard coming from the bathroom, your groggy mind a bit too slow to recognize they weren’t using the voice changer. You did your best to not pay attention, not wanting to betray their trust by finding out who they were too soon. You laid down again, closing your eyes when you heard the door open. You felt their hand tracing your face before they planted little kisses on your cheeks before planting a soft and loving one to your lips. They pulled away and pulled the mask on before tapping you, you pretended to stir awake, blinking up at them. “You’re leaving?” You asked as they nodded, “be safe, okay? I would rather prefer finding out who you are when you trust me and not through some Gale Weathers interview,” you said as you leaned up, planting a little kiss on their mask just like last night. “Be safe, both of you,” you said as they nodded and began to climb out your window. 
An hour later Tatum came to pick you up in her little red beetle, driving both of you to class. You met up with Sid and Stu, who had his arm wrapped around Tatum. “Where’s Billy at today?” Tatum asked as Sid sighed, “said he came down with a major stomach bug. He said he was sick all night and didn’t even sleep, his dad told him to head to the doctor instead of class,” she said as you turned towards Sidney. Stu became aware of your glance at her, his eyes widening in surprise when you made eye contact with him. 
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sschizoid · 28 days ago
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Tulpar crew babysitting…
ive got you pookie ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭‎°。⋆♡‧₊˚
--
curly
is so honored that he was chosen to be entrusted with the care of something as delicate as a baby. always wanted to be a dad, but never quite found the right person to settle down with. but doing this is kind of reigniting that old baby fever he thought he'd forgotten about all those years ago. maybe someday
loves to play, especially with his hands. peek-a-boo, patty-cake, and finger puppets are his go-tos, as he thinks teaching creativity and engaging the imagination through just means of your person can make for a healthy mind
singing is also something he loves to utilize, but he doesn't go for the predictable options like your ABCs or wheels on the bus. no, right now, he's got himself an audience, one that can't tell him to keep it down or that his music taste sucks, and he's going to take advantage of that. he's singing the beach boys
jimmy
would ideally never be in this situation to begin with. cannot fathom why anyone would think to trust him of all people to care for a baby when he can hardly even care for himself
if he does somehow get swept into it, whether it be by the will of god or some other foreign wind of change, he will do the absolute bare minimum. throws the kid in a playpen with some toys and sits back while enjoying some television. probably puts on some trashy animated show that's definitely not made for infants, but all they care about is the moving pictures and fun colors, right? everything else is subjective
texts every 45 minutes asking for updates on when parent(s) will be home, because he kind of has somewhere he needs to be in an hour (lie). also he dug around in the fridge a bit and ate some leftovers but re-positioned the remaining amount in the tupperware in an attempt to make it look like he didn't. also, he's getting paid for this, right?
anya
she's never really interacted with kids before, let alone a baby. she's trying to find a polite way to decline, but takes too long in trying to come up with an excuse and eventually just agrees
read a whole bunch of parent blogs 20 minutes before coming over so she could know what to expect. the only information she retained was that babies like to be talked to. she's professional and talks to them like she would a coworker at the watercooler. baby seems into it, though?
feeling confident after making the baby laugh, but she doesn't want to risk losing the progress she's made by trying something wacky. baby likes talking— maybe likes books, too? she brought her homework just in case she wanted to do some studying, and decides to read the articles from her textbook aloud. it works like a charm, though the baby falls asleep soon after. maybe the subject matter was too boring?
swansea
hell. no. he spent over a decade of his life combined dealing with rugrats, what makes you think he'd want to go back to that? he did his time and then some, his sentence is served
the only circumstance where he'd agree to babysit is if it were to do his own kids a favor. they're around that age, getting their lives together and starting families, so he could swallow his pride every now and then and play the role of "grandpa," for a bit. even if the title seemed unearned
but being a grandfather kind of makes him reflect. makes him realize he probably wasn't there for his kids nearly as often as he should have been. he wasn't a good father to them, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he's thankful they made out alright in the end. he feels a pang in his heart when he looks into the face of the baby and realizes it has his nose
daisuke
OF COURSE he'll babysit, are you kidding? he's always wanted a little sibling to instill his personality and interests into, and this, while not the perfect opportunity, was probably the next best thing
brings over all of his favorite toys from when he was a kid. hot wheels, tech decks, legos, the works. tries to teach the baby how to do a kickflip with the tech deck, but they keep trying to eat it. that's cool too, he can maybe understand the appeal. it kind of looks like an eclair if you squint really, really hard and hold it really, really far away
babysitting is also the perfect excuse to watch cartoons without the fear of being judged by boring people, so he's got that shit running the whole time. nothing too babyish (he wants to enjoy himself too, after all), but still has loads of bright colors and the occasional catchy musical number that will most certainly follow him home that night
--
hope these are sufficient ! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾
.......i'm admittedly a bit backed up at the moment but rest assured I'm POWERING THROUGH YEAAAHHHH 💪
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dollfacedsl1ut · 1 year ago
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Mean gym rats
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༝༚༝༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚
▸ compendium : nayeon is your personal gym trainer although her trainings were pointless to you she continued working with you even if that means calling her friend for back up when you get too out of hand
▸ dynamic : g!p mean dom! Nayeon x !fem reader x g!p! mean dom zyu
▸ content : semi public sex, oral (reader receivin), overstimulation, hair pulling, squirting, three some, cum play, cum eating, breeding, brief exhibition, humiliation, impact (spanking omg), asphyxiophilia, dacryphilia, objectification, biting, reader is sassy asf, nayeon calls jihyo as back up, zyu is a pervert at first, dubcon ish
▸ word count : nearing 2k
a/n : the is the longest thing ive ever wrote so fair, not proof read sorry for typos omg enjoy feel free to request more!!
Nayeon is blue, Reader is Pink and Jihyo is purple!
“Oh hell no I’m not doing all that” looking at your workout goal paper nayeon wrote for you, “well you have 2 days to finish the workout y/n time to get to work” you groaned grabbing your gym bag walking into the women’s locker room.
You stared at yourself in the mirror before applying chalk to your hand then your gloves so you wouldn’t get blisters, nayeon stood by the treadmill waiting for you, “y/n hurry up come on” nayeon clapped her hands in a gesture for you to move quicker, you rolled your eyes before standing on the treadmill she turned it on a low mode as your walked to the speed, after a while it started to speed up causing you to begin jogging, the treadmills timer beeped after 45 minutes indicating you were finished nayeon began writing down the time and amount of miles you ran.
“Good girl y/n see it wasn’t so bad” nayeon tried to cheer you up “now it’s time for bench press” your eyes widen “no thank you” you smiled shaking her hand “don’t start today you were doing good” nayeon placed her clipboard on the treadmill before looking at you disapprovingly, bench presses weren’t your thing you always hated them after you tried it once a few years and it fell on your arm you had to wear a cast for a year because of it after that day you vowed to never bench press again
“Y/n I’m not gonna fight you today just do it” she sighed loudly your stubborn antics started to piss her off “since you really wanna see someone bench press how about you do it” rolling your eyes you walked to a nearby bench before pulling out your phone, nayeon just glared at you an idea popped to her head as she walks into the locker room dialing a friends number.
Around 20 minutes pass as you heard the gyms door open nayeon greeted the person in a cheerful voice you continued scrolling on your phone with your head phones synced to bluetooth you seen a pair of shoes stand in front of you you glances up seeing a tanned woman with her hair pulled into a pony “what?” You took off your headphones “ah- so you’re the notorious y/n who gives my friend a hard time” you laughed aloud “that bitch called backup on me” jihyo eyes widen as a smirk appears on her face “you should watch your mouth it gets you nowhere talking down to people” you flicked your eyes up looking at the woman again “look lady I don’t know why you’re here and I don’t care can you leave me alone” you placed your headphones back on your head putting your attention back to your phone.
The woman yanked her headphones off before gripping your hair pulling you onto the ground “what the fuck-“ the woman stood tall over your body “before I start this lesson my name is jihyo and nayeon called me here she told me all about you and I’m not gonna put up with your attitude y/n” nayeon appeared from around the corner smiling at your body on the ground “you see y/n I tried to be nice to you now jihyo is gonna help you respect people who want to help you” she gives you a smile jihyo leaned down near your face “did you know most women who have such nasty attitudes aren’t sexually happy” her fingers grazed her collarbones “don’t you want us to fix that” your brain was already fuzzy by jihyos presence you didn’t know what was gonna happen if you said no so you just nodded.
A pat was rewarded on your head jihyo pulled you up as you watched nayeon walk to the bench, she pushed you down on nayeons lap as you felt her tear at your leggings “wha-“ you squirmed as you felt a sharp slap land on your bottom “stop moving” another slap was landed on your ass jihyo chuckled as you felt nayeon wrap her hands around your wrist “y/n you have to get get spanked for your disrespectful behavior” you wanted to say a smart remark but just stayed silent unaware of what else they had planned for you “you felt harsh slaps on your ass repeatedly.
After jihyo finished spanking you nayeons grip loosened on your wrists you sat up as your ass was bruised and red “am I finished now” your voice grew softer jihyo and nayeon laughed like you said something stupid “it’s not finished we haven’t even started y/n that was a warmup” nayeon sat you in your lap putting your body on one of her knees using her arms to wrap around your upper half jihyo bent down eye level with you spreading your thighs apart she glanced at nayeon smiling soon after you felt nayeons hands move from around your waist to the hole they tore in your leggings ripping them open more your soaked panties were kept on by jihyo “look at her nayeon a pathetic bitch getting turned on by being hit” jihyo laughed at you before slapping your clit, your thighs threatening the close “keep them open y/n.” Nayeons raspy voice right beside your eye she left harsh slaps on your inner thighs purposely avoiding your cunt jihyo yanked you up pulling your legging down around your ankles nayeon stood up from the bench “bend over put your hands on the floor” you obliged feeling jihyo rut your bulge over your ass you whimpered at the feeling a sharp slap was placed on your ass causing you to topple over landing on your hands and knees jihyo walked in front of your as nayeon stayed behind they both kneeled down groping your body, jihyo yanked your head up cupping your cheeks “your next lesson is easy” you sighed in relief “you’ll be taking both of our cocks like a good girl then we’re gonna breed your little pussy over and over until we forgive you” before you could protest a sharp slap was planted on your ass “it’s easy y/n it’s not like you have a choice it’s us against you and from the stat chart you’re pretty weak princess” “okay I’ll take you both at once” they both smiled pulling you up on your feet “we have to prep you first” you glanced nayeon “why?” She giggled placing you on the cycling station seat “our cocks are way too big for your pussy y/n I assume you’re tight from the way you act unless you think you’re a big girl and can take it” jihyos eyes glistened “do you wanna take us without preo y/n?” You nodded confidentially they both gave each other looks before pulling their pants off jihyo picked you up wrapping your legs around her waist she slid her thick cock into your drilling cunt after jihyo bottomed out nayeon stood behind you “has you ever been fucked in your ass baby?” You scampered thinking they would take turns over maybe one would duck your mouth and the other would fuck your pussy not this way “no” nayeon let out a airy chuckles before spitting on her cock using the small amount of wetness as lube once jihyo slid out of your cube nayeon thrusted her cock inside your ass you screamed clawing at jihyos back tears rolling down your cheeks.
“Why are you crying you wanted this you said you could handle it” nayeon cooed as she moaned in your ear “you should’ve told me you felt this good ive would’ve fucked you sooner” her moans filled your ear as you wet yourself nearing release you clenched around them both your high pitched moans echoed in the gym as you came around jihyo a white ring forming around her thick cock “you look so much pretty gushing over my cock y/n” jihyo purred speeding up your pace as she released ropes of cum inside your cunt her cock was still hard as she kept moving in and out of your swollen cunt nayeon dumped her loaded in your ass as she moans softly pulling out, she backed away as jihyo laid you on the bench before putting your thighs on your shoulders and placing her hands on your shoulders her feet planted on each side of the neck as she bullied her cock into you reaching a deeper point overstimulation washed over you body as your eyes rolled to the back of your head nayeon watched as she began stroking her cock groping your tits through your shirt your nipples perked at the sensation jihyos pace never slowing down your thighs shook whilst nayeon kept fisting her cock imaging it was your ass around her clenching and pulsating.
Nayeon kept groping your tits as she yanked your top down pinching your sensitive nipples causing breathy whimpers to mix in with your moans
Nayeon felt her release coming before dumping her load over your breast some getting on your plush lips
Jihyo kept bullying her dick inside your swollen cunt her thumb rubbing circles on your clit triggering your orgasm you blacked out squirting over her torso she sped up her pace biting down on your shoulder her cock kept hitting your swollen cervix painfully dumping her load in your cunt she groaned in your ear “such a good fucking pussy” pulling out her cum poured out nayeon peered at the mess between your thighs bending down she licked a stripe down your clit “so sweet” she moaned slurping the juices that continued to squirt out your cunt jihyo stood in front of your face her cock resting between her thighs “open y/n” your swollen lips parted as jihyo held a hand over your throat forcing her cock in your throat nearly crushing your throat her quick and short thrusts in your mouth nayeon continued slurping your clit as you came on your face she stood up after cleaning your cunt again her cock prodding at your other enterance she slammed her cock inside your Anal walls she brutally fucked you as jihyo slapped your sticky tits as she felt her release approaching she fisted her cock thick white ropes of cum coated your belly
Nayeon watched jihyo cum on your belly it made cock throb more fueling her to grip your hips tightly bully her cock inside your at s inhuman speed she stared at your sopping cunt sliding her finger between your folds stroking softly. Jihyo sat on the other side of the bench stroking her cock at the scene before her your tits bouncing as nayeon brutally fucked you
Nayeon chuckled hearing your breathy moans her orgasm rushed pass her as she dumped her load in your ass she pulled out as jihyo continued fisting her cock she stood up stroking herself faster as she came on your clit
Nayeon and jihyo cleaned themselves up leaving you on the bench unable to move they came back before wiping you down jihyo gave you a fresh pair of clothes “have you learned your lesson y/n” you nodded slowly sitting up with shaky thighs and a sore throat “we disciplined her well she looks so innocent now” they laughed before bringing you to the car sitting you in the back seat “are you hungry” they asked in unison
© psychoz4nymph.tumblr please do not copy, steal or translate my work without permission
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makos-ribcage · 11 months ago
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No one loses ㅡ ༝ ˚ 。⋆ 𓇼 ⋆。 ˚ ༝
[] - You make Sanji jealous with the help of Zoro
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𓇼afab!reader, she/her
! - Toxic relationship, hard language, sanji angst, soft nsfw and implied harsh nsfw
so ive realized how many ppl dont add the fact that sanji is a player when writing stuff about him, so i wanted to write smth based on it, i rlly like the start, enjoy :) if this get enough love ill write a second part :o
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You knew what you were getting your ass into. You just didn't expected for it to be so bad from time to time.
You've been dating Sanji for a little longer than 3 months know, but knew him for years. You knew about his issues when it came to women. The fact that he would become a total dumbass, blindfolded, stupid ass man the second a woman appeared in his sight.
You knew that, but you also knew you really loved him, he would make you really happy, you loved the way he was such a gentleman, how he kept himself motivated despite his tragic past and every single little detail about his personality and looks that made him unique.
He also loved you deeply, more than any other woman, he thinks you're the prettiest and best woman out there. But that doesn't stop him to go back to his brainless self in front of women every now and then. You would usually just scold him a little, touch him or just talk to him and he would remember that he was taken and that he had to control his ass.
But not that night, you didn't even recognized him.
Once the Straw Hats became popular, a good amount of pirates and even just random people became "fanatics" of you. Fanatics of Sanji as well.
That blonde cook was good looking, with a deep sensual voice mixed with his height and his ability to cook, enough to make any woman fall over heels to him. Now that his popularity grew, women would even let slide when he was borderline a pervert just to get close to the straw hats or being able to fuck anyone that was part of the crew.
You were at a fancy bar, taking a lil rest from the piracy. Each one of the Straw Hats had a small group of people come around them as they entered the place and each one of them got rid of them in their own way.
Zoro ignored women until they grew tired, Nami stole every single men's wallet, Robin freaked them out with her hands, Luffy acted like Luffy, Usopp told a few lies so obvious that women realized it and you insulted any guy that approached you.
But Sanji? Oh, no. He totally forgot the fact that he was in a relationship the second more than 3 women surrounded him. Flirting with them, telling them that he can cook anything that they wanted, using that deep raspy voice that he knew you loved and place his big soft hands on the women's thigh.
You tried to get him out of there but he would make a comment about "Being enough for everyone", when you called him he basically ignored you, when you touched him he barely noticed. You felt terrible,
After that humiliation, you decided to seat down, your sadness quickly being replaced by anger. You stared at him from the bar with your drink in one hand. He was sitting on the opposite side of the bar with a bunch of women, one on each side of him, the rest surrounding him, massaging his shoulders, giving him compliments, making sure their boobs touched his arms.
You snapped when you saw one of those girls grab his cheeks and playfully kiss his lips. Him just accepting it with a big dumb smile on his face. What the fuck was he even thinking about? You came to the conclusion he wasn't thinking at all.
If he wanted to play a jealousy game, you could play too, and you were going to be the best at it. You knew how to hurt him, you were his girlfriend after all. Zoro.
Zoro and you were quite close. You were strong and independent and he really respected that coming from a woman, specially considering his childhood. You both saw each other as the same, you used to train together, you knowing he wasn't going to hold back because "You're a girl".
It wasn't something unknown that Sanji hated Zoro for some reason, he hated the fact that you trained together, getting to a point where he would just sit and watch your training sessions just to make sure he wasn't going to try anything on you.
You approached him on the bar. He was drinking one of the many drinks that he had planned for the night, slightly drunk but so were all of you. He stared at you as you came closer.
"I need help." You told him, an angry expression on your face that he mimicked right away, thinking it was a dead or life situationship. "Help me get Sanji jealous." His face relaxed.
"Are you serious?" He whispered, feeling like you were teenagers at school.
"Very. Look at him!" You pointed at him, knowing that you could be yelling his name and he wouldn't notice, he was staring directly into some women boobs as he grabbed her waist. "I'm mad as fuck, and you hate him, let's make him mad. No one loses" Besides of Sanji, of course, but he deserves it.
Zoro considered it for a second. He did hated him, he did wanted to help you and you were hot. He gets to be drunk, flirt with a hot girl and make his nemesis mad, he truly don't loses anything.
He chugged his drink, then stared at you. "'Kay, what's the plan?". You smiled.
He put one of his hands on your hip, his hand lingering to your ass slowly. Both of you stood next to a wall near Sanji, you against the wall and Zoro in front of you. Now that you had him so close you realized how big he was. Sanji was tall, sure, but Zoro was big, he covered your body completely, and you felt tiny with his hand on your waist.
Zoro put a happy hand on one of your thighs again, playfully sticking a few fingers under your skirt, wanting to make the best of the situation now that he was at it. You placed a hand on his chest, and he drew you closer with his free hand. Talking to each other while being very near of each other faces. You could breathe the alcohol on Zoro's mouth, and he had a nice view of your cleavage.
Sanji stared at both of you in confusion, he was jealous of you simply talking to him back in the Sunny, seeing both of you so touchy definitely called his attention. But not enough for him to put a stop to his playful flirting with the women.
"It's not working..." You whispered to Zoro, directing your view to Sanji, slightly pouting. He stared into your eyes. "How jealous you wanna make him?".  He grabbed your chin, making you face him again. Oh, he was drunk drunk.
His hand drifted to your neck, squeezing it slightly, enough for you to open your mouth slowly to breathe better. Not even trying to dismiss it as a romantic kiss, he licked your lips slowly, kissing you and quickly turning it into a french kiss.
Out of surprise, and maybe something else, you slightly moaned in his mouth, and you felt his lips curl up into a small smile. His hands kept you in place by your waist, you touched his chest not being sure what to do, deciding to hug him by the neck and pull him closer as well. That heated kiss lasted longer than you expected. Zoro's hands explored your body confidently, the hand on your neck slowly going down until reaching one of your boobs.
You grabbed his wrist, not sure if it was being too much. But his hand didn't stopped at all and you didn't knew if Sanji saw you.
It was something childish and dumb, you didn't just wanted to make him a little jealous, you wanted him to feel bad, as bad as you felt watching him not pay attention to you just get some other girls boobs on his face. It made you feel terrible, feel like you weren't enough, like you were replaceable and you were just some girl he said yes to being her boyfriend just to have some pussy that he was certain he would have available always.
Zoro broke the kiss first, staring directly to your red lips, not because of lipstick but because of such type of kiss.
You felt a presence next to you, when you turned your head, Sanji was there, clearly really mad.
"Oh, you're here, I thought I'd had to fuck Zoro to call your attention." You said, probably as mad as him, but keeping a calm nonchalant expression. It was obvious his actions affected you, but you didn't wanted to show that they did, yet.
"I don't mind." Zoro said, back to his usual, less hot, self, also staring at Sanji.
Sanji pushed both of you aside, deciding to deal with you first and then beat the living shit out of Zoro after he was done with you.
He grabbed your hand dragging you out of the bar. Being cornered in a wall once again on an alley a few streets out of the bar and near the docks where the sunny was, now by your boyfriend, you stared at him straight into his eyes.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He said, clear anger on the sound of his voice. "Out of all the men on that bar, It had to be Zoro, of course." He was mad, you could tell, but you decided to play your little act of not caring for longer.
"Yeah, but they were focused on how you were almost fucking every single girl in the bar, I bet they were jealous." You said, staring right into his eyes, he seemed to feel ashamed of his actions, just for a few seconds, a feeling that faded quickly as you kept talking. "But Zoro didn't seem to care, and since you were experimenting with girls hotter than me, I thought I'd do the same with someone hotter than you."
His face turned red quickly. He grabbed your face with one hand harshly. A grip tight enough to make your face hurt a little.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled at you, startling you for a second, but you were sure he wouldn't hurt you, either because you trusted him, because you were drunk or because you were mad, you weren't too sure.
"I don't know, you tell me, you've been an asshole to me all night!" You answered, as harshly as him, quickly getting more and more heated by his lack of excuses, you knew you were wrong, but so was him. And he started the whole deal so he had to apologize first.
He released your face, placing his hand on one of his hips as the other one rested next to your head against the wall. "Of course not! I'd never do such thing! You were the one almost fucking Zoro." Now he was treating you like you were insane. Flirting with other girls was already bad enough, but acting like you hallucinated everything and faking dementia was going to make you genuinely insane.
"Yes you did such thing!" You mocked him, watching his gaze get madder and madder. "I even saw you kiss one!"
"Nope, I don't remember that" He played dumb, and you stared at him dumbfounded.
"You're unbelievable! I can't believe I even started dating you!" You turned your head way from him.
He stared at you in surprise, he knew he had a problem, but he did love you, as much as his stupid behavior allowed him. "What the fuck do you mean?" His expression of surprise was quickly replaced by the same stare of anger you saw directed to you all night. You were forced to face him again as he grabbed your forearm with a little too much strength. Pulling you closer where you could feel his familiar breath. "I mean that I hate you!" You replied quickly, not giving it a lot of thought, probably going to regret saying that as much as he's going to regret not paying you attention that night.
"Fine! I hate you too!" He answered, not letting you go neither pulling you away despite of his words. You stared at him, his blue eyes that looked at you with a hatred that you didn't believe was genuine at all, he probably thought the same of your own stare of hatred.
"Fine." You whispered, looking down to his lips for a few seconds, as you licked yours.
"Fine." He mirrored your expression. Staring into your lips.
Before you could even process that you "Hated each other", you pulled him closer, pressing your lips into his own. He placed a hand on the back of your head while the other one got around your waist.
You gripped his shirt as the kiss continued, unbuttoning the first buttons of his shirt while Sanji's hand on your waist lingered lower and lower.
"Let's go to the sunny." You felt that deep, raspy voice that you loved against your lips once again.
"Yes."
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deafeninggardenerpanda · 1 year ago
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i'd love to hear about manmaru metadede !!! i heard it's really Gay but no one ever details it. not a lot of it is translated too, as far as i know, but i really like it.. any excuse to talk about something you like is good too
NO YEA not a lot is translated and the manga itself is already more niche compared to like, mopupupu so its not too well known. translation efforts have really started picking up the past year though (shoutout to @/kirby-manga-translated they do great work). if it needed to be restated for new followers since i havent tl'd in a while, i know a decent amount of japanese so i read them on my own :)c
shoutout to my guy @/rosakikoza as well for giving me his scans hehe. the majority of images below are his or taken from his scans. the rest are mine
*deep breath* the tangent. im gonna need to put this under a cut dont mind me 😍😍😍 did i say 3 paragraphs? i meant 20. like 20 paragraphs
meta knight is absolutely pathetic and incredibly down bad for dedede this manga. its adorable. multiple people ive talked to or seen have come to the conclusion it seems like he has a huge crush on him. a quick brief for those who dont know but this mangas meta is admittedly Veryyyyy different from how you'd expect a meta knight to be. uncharacteristically friendly and cheerful and. pathetic is really the best word for it. hes kinda a loser. incredibly protective of dedede, he switches between two modes of fussing over him quite a bit and semi-often going into incredible rage bloodlust modes over protecting him or his image (youll see a good amount of jp fanwork depict this version of him as a yandere for that reason)
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theres also been more than one occasion where meta knight tries to commit seppuku upon accidently doing something he sees as unforgivable towards his king (its in the chapter i just screenshotted above too, another time he broke dededes clock and freaked out about it). i-. dont consider this a cute ship thing for the record im just stating it to emphasize the extent of metas obsession towards dedede this manga. the mans got Problems...
apart from that, also quite differing from most interpretations of both of them, both of them seem to genuinely really like spending time around each other all the time. it comes off as casually domestic and is very cute...
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regardless of my attempts to brief it, i dont feel like im explaining this very well so lemme just show you a frankly ridiculous amount of reasons for why i keep feeling like this mangaka ships metadede
-fake kiss: self explanatory
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-fake proposal: also self explanatory
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mk: Will you marry me!?
ddd: Yes!
context for this scene is that theyre rehearsing for a play, but actually its later revealed that meta knight is playing the princess while dedede is playing the male protag so im not exactly sure it makes sense that hes the one proposing here. my speculation is that to make the proposal seem legit for the gag they Had to use meta LMAO but thats just my take
also to be noted, right after kirby hears the proposal he immediately runs off and tries to tell everyone the news before ddd+mk stop him and explain that its fake. hes not thrown off or weirded out at the idea that they could be getting married in the slightest. kirby says gay rights Real i love him sm
-this one is from what i call the memory loss chapter:
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dedede loses his memories from getting hit in the head too hard. the gang figures out that beating dedede up or otherwise causing him injury causes him to regain some of them back though, to which kirby attempts to harm him with increasingly violent means, much to meta knights horror. mk spends the entire chapter trying to protect dedede from him, and it doesnt work obviously, but after a particularly hard hit dedede remembers everyone again... except for meta knight. to which meta knight gets upset about and lets kirby lay into dedede for real. you see where people get the yandere personality from now right. i dont recall this trait coming out too often but ill talk more about it later
-the whole chapter thats a cinderella retelling with dedede and meta knight. also also self explanatory COME ON LOOK AT THIS ONE. LOOK AT IT.
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mk: Y…You're…
ddd: Wow, he's so beautiful!! It's like I'm dreaming…!
-theres the mangaka chapter which is a more recent one
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the gang makes manga for dedede. meta knight's manga is about how cool, brave, and heroic dedede is. mysteriously enough however the only thing hes good at is drawing dededes face and nothing else. the implications of this one drive me absolutely insane. is it supposed to imply that meta knight stares at his face all day?? admires his appearance??? he looks at him so much he basically has his face memorized????? HUH???????? theres no heterosexual explanation for this. acting like a teenager with a crush out here got damn
=various images im sharing out of context because they r cute
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head pats. holding hands and reaching the goal together. peak.
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KNIGHT DRESSUP FOR THE KNIGHT. AHAAHGH
ddd: Hoho, pretty spiffy don'cha think?
mk: Ohh!? It suits you!!
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fellas is it gay to shout "OHH! META KNIGHT!!" with a dopey grin on your face upon being saved like a damsel in distress
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sometimes meta knight acts domestic as fuck too. his copy abilities as he states are: cook! clean!! and sleep!!!
regarding my thoughts on their dynamic in this series overall, i think theyre absolutely adorable. meta knight emits dog energy in this one. eager golden retriever towards dedede, though dedede has his sweet moments towards meta knight too. (viewing it with a shipping lens just for this post ofc) while meta is the more active crusher, some of the stuff above seems to imply that dedede has feelings in return as well :') they just get along really well too its great. theres a different chapter where they perform as a comedy duo. theyve done plays in multiple chapters. its my hc for these versions of them that they love doing performances of all kinds together and do a lot of rehearsals and writing in their free time...
and the yandere stuff i feel like i should address as well. i try not to take some aspects Too seriously because its to be expected things are over emphasized for the sake of the joke with gag mangas. but oh man the man definitely has problems. he needs therapy. i tried to be transparent in listing those aspects as well so people can make their own conclusions on it But theres one more thing id like to mention regarding that
meta knights personality has been shifting to be different from what i listed, as of the most recent volume. my beloved forgotten land arc... a first for this series in that, while the chapters still retain their gag humor and dont take themselves that seriously, its a serialized story that mostly follows along with the game plot that lasts nearly the whole volume (as opposed to other game arcs in this manga being episodic stories, using the games as their theme rather than a full on setting). with the more serious tone of the serialized story, theres a frankly startling hint of character development i never wouldve expected from a gag manga at the end of it
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kirby gets ko'd the first round of the meta knight cup so meta knight joins the meta knight cup instead. turns out when he does that the final boss of the cup is dedede. meta knight Really doesnt want to hurt dedede and so dedede promptly kicks his ass without a second thought and wins the tournament. while the crowd cheers for dedede's victory, meta and dedede have a small talk where dedede tells him he doesnt need to fuss so much about hurting him/him getting hurt. presumably this is supposed to mark the end of meta knights intense overprotectiveness because (its never been clear-cut due to the nature of the manga previously, so its a lil hard to say) dededes shown he can handle himself, or like, isnt some fragile thing. i really hope itll stick around because i think its a great addition to both of their characters. the meta-knights have also been appearing way more frequently as of very recent chapters (ones that havent been compiled into a volume yet) which seem to also hint to meta knight getting more independence to his character from dedede's loyal servant. im very excited to see where it goes :D
and like, last last disclaimer if anyone needed it; even tho i love metadede and i like to see things through ship glasses sometimes i absolutely try my best to keep my biases out of my translations. putting out accurate translations means a lot to me! this entire post is me purposely putting the ship glasses on so please dont take it as "omg metadede is canon in this manga". you know way back when i was the only active translator for this manga someone tweeted at the mangaka on twitter mentioning that there were english translations around and he replied to that person. didnt respond to the fan translation thing specifically but the fact that he could know who i am definitely kinda terrifies me. if anyone goes around saying that his manga is the metadede manga because of me and he even has the slightest sliver of a chance of seeing that i will kill yall fr LOL
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ofcowardiceandkings · 1 year ago
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companion piece of young Zelda
AAHH i finally finished something :'D
it actually took more thought to trawl through my feelings about Link as a child than Zelda but we got there idk man i just knew he exudes gremlin energy as a 17 to 20-something year old so he must have been a little demon as a kid gfkdjfkd
we're sort of looking at roughly 4, 7 and 10 years old here feeding sum pigeons, playing soldiers, and doing some baking !!!
more detailed Thoughts under the cut 💙
iiitssss customary ranting about my BotW/TotK opinions tiiiimeeee welcome my darlingsss jfkdjfkd 💙
like i said, this took more thought than Zelda, but we also dont know as much about Link's upbringing so thats fair
having said that, we know his father was a knight - a prominent one - and its hinted at that his family may have owned the Hateno house you can buy from Bolson. im not sure if i land on it being the family / childhood home or belonging to like a grandparent but i like to think Link spent time in Hateno as a kid (im a great fan of bumpkin Link with a country accent aight im a simple man). no mention of any OTHER family members, but imo i think his mother was still around and he probably had younger siblings !! he DID probably spend a fair amount of time in Castle Town just due to his father's job though, to be fair he probably travelled a little as a youngster a-la army posting yknow ... moving on tldr that explains why i've got a bunch of Hateno-esque clothing here aside from us sort of not knowing what the average joe Castle Town citizen from back in the day would have worn idk man its cute also
SO, pigeons !!! i'll definitely expand on this later when i go over more livestock now ive finished TotK but listen i wouldnt be in the least bit surprised if pre-Calamity Hylians had domestic pigeons for sending messages or just for hobby, so here's a first look at the Castle Town Carrier, the Hylian army's best flying friends. Link's just out here feeding his fathers' cohort's messenger birbs :3
stimky boy plays soldiers with a stick and a pot lid and a tub, classic and good, he was probably like ... actually tactically aware at this age though lets be real lol i bet it was annoyingly impressive
C A R R O T C A K E its a bit wonky, but i bet it tastes great :') id imagine Link probably spent a fair amount of time helping around the house and boy loves his food !! some people develop those skills early !!! i bet he was one of those people !!! any chance to get involved and learn how to make his faves and make them for other people yknow, food as a love language everyone HEYO (bowl there is chickaloo tree nuts, hazelnut analog eyo)
ghfjkdjfkd i said i didnt have much to say about this but oops
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sophswritingthings · 1 year ago
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ruin my life -- chapter 1
| warning(s): light swearing |
| a/n: modern mizu had such a grip on me, and now were here. |
| summary: an overlook into mizu's life before you enter it. |
| song rec: ruin my life -- zolita (for the story, in general) |
| word count: 776 words / 4,211 characters |
______________________________________________________________
mizu always kept to herself, she was never the loud type. always played a background role, even if people thought she should be in the spotlight.
never had she believed that before she met eiji.
eiji was an alumni at her school.. one of the many famous actors the school had produced. the amount of actors they had produced is why she really wanted to go to the school, in the first place.
and meeting him kind of changed her whole perception of her own talent, of her own mind. if someone who was so great could tell her all these great things about herself, they were true, surely.
"listen here, kid, nobody ever did anything by sitting on their ass and never getting anything done," he furrowed his eyebrows as they walked side by side, through the halls of the marbled school. "I know that better than anyone. you remind me of myself, when I went here."
she arched one eyebrow, "how come? im.. nothing like you, I mean.. you're this great actor and im just.. a college student who can barley pay their own tuition."
he gently gripped her shoulder, nodding, "exactly. do you think I was some great guy while I was in college? I didn't come from riches, kid, I could barley pay for this college when I was your age."
she adverted her gaze, a little sigh leaving her lips, "suppose that's true," mizu mumbled.
"and ive heard you do fencing," he tapped his cane against the ground, "as did i."
"oh--yeah. yeah, I know," a small smile crossed her lips. "its part of the reason I wanted to start. sort of, I guess."
"its a noble practice," he nodded, smiling a bit. "may I request to meet you, again, mizu? after your classes, tomorrow."
her eyes widened, gazing at him. someone as great as him, wanted anything to do with them?
"um, uh, yes." she stammered, "I'll meet you here."
and from then on, that's what they'd do. hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks that she would meet eiji for both fencing practice, and acting/college advice.
eiji was basically the father she had never had, someone to inspire her, push her forward.
her college life had improved, a little. not by much, but a little. she still lived in a small-ass college dorm with three other girls, sharing two sets of bunk beds in the room the size of a walk in closet.
"mizu? hey?" one of the girls, carrie, seemed to take an interest in her early. and of course, she had settled on the top bunk of mizu's bed. the girl popped down, swinging her head over mizu's bed. "you doin' anything tomorrow? me and some friends were going out and--"
mizu's head had almost immediately blocked out any word she said. she didn't want anything to do with this girl, nor what she was offering. she seemed to be the kind of girl to cling and never leave, and she was not about that. she'd come home crying over some new girl every week, she could guess, crying that they said she was "too clingy".
"uh--yeah. im working," mizu hissed, never looking up from her phone.
that wasn't a lie, actually, she had work at her average pay job as a barista. she had been working there ever since she got accepted into the college, how else would she pa her tuition?
not that it helped, much, it wasn't the best pay ever. and her tuition was more than 50,000 dollars a year--she was going to be in debt for more days than she thought she could count. but if she managed (and hopefully she would, with eijis help) to get a good gig, or few, she could pay it off in no time.
the coffee shop wasn't too bad, though. customers were usually quiet, besides the few that would come in every so often. she'd get okay tips, considering she tried to be as respectful as she could.
she had her friends. none of which attended the same school--they all had different majors. whom she considered her best friend, akemi, was in harvard law school miles away from them. taigen had gotten into law school, too, just not the same. (he definitely wasn't smart enough for harvard, that's for sure.) and ringo, the sweet culinary major she'd met going out for drinks, one night, with akemi. he was a mixologist, and despite his lack of hands--he was a wonderful one.
her life was calm. her life was quiet.
there was never anything absolutely interesting, about it.
that was--until you walked into it.
______________________________________________________________
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1d1195 · 1 year ago
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Neighbors Extra IV - Merry Christmas
Read Neighbors here
I wanted to write something for the holidays and they seemed like a worthy couple to do so. I will get back to Dolcezza over the next few days and I'm sorry my posting schedule is off now. I will get that back on track too.
Warnings: fluff, cuteness, Christmassy nonsense (maybe a little angst if you read it the right way)
This isn't super proofread. I'm not sure how my timeline is matching up with the rest of the story but this is their first Xmas together as a couple. Probably before the other Extras I've written but I'm not sure time is really relevant.
~3.1k words
Surely everyone in her life showered Rory with presents. He hoped that her family spoiled her just as much.
But he had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t the case.
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“I hope Santa gets everything on my list,” Rory giggled. Harry watched as the wonderful woman helped Rory write out his list. She wrote out each item carefully, committing it to memory. He signed his name in his large six-year-old print. Once the list was decorated with stickers and glitter (and an extra drawing of the North Pole was slipped in the envelope), she stole a picture of it for her own use and memories. The three of them headed to the store to put the envelope in the North Pole mailbox and get some shopping done.
Harry smiled lazily. This was better than any Christmas he could imagine with his little family—and it had hardly started. He gazed longingly at the love of his life as she meandered down the aisles getting presents for her family, Harry’s family, coworkers, and anyone else she could think of before she would have to find a time to get all those items on Rory’s list. “Think y’ve been pretty good, lad,” Harry smiled. “Don’t you?”
He nodded. “I’ve eaten all my vegetables this year. Even the gross ones,” he wrinkled his nose distastefully. It was the same way she did it which made his heart flutter at the sight. Rory was so much like his mum it hurt in the best way.
Harry chuckled. “Mummy and I appreciate that. S’good for you,” he reminded him.
“Can you help me get Mumma a present?” Rory whispered. He wasn’t very good at it. She turned a bit toward the sound of his little voice ever so slightly. A smirk on her face that Harry didn’t miss. He ignored her attention so he could focus on Rory’s inquiry with hope that maybe the pair of them could surprise her.
As usual, she was very smart and did a lot of her Christmas shopping early in the season—almost as soon as the decorations for Halloween came down, she was out at the store buying gifts.
“Course, lad. What do y’want t’get her?”
“A racecar. So she can play with me,” he explained. It wasn’t a question in Rory’s mind. It was the most obvious choice of gift.
Harry chuckled. “I see. Do y’think Mummy has asked Santa for something else we could get her? Something a little more girly?”
By now she had rounded the corner to the next aisle. Harry and Rory had veered off to look at the racecars. “Mumma doesn’t get presents from Santa,” he shrugged heading to the section of toys that he deemed worthy of Mummy.
Harry frowned at how readily that came from Rory. “Oh? She on the naughty list?” He joked. But he would tease her about that later when they fell asleep. Right as they fell asleep.
Rory giggled. “Mumma isn’t naughty, Harry,” he rolled his eyes.
No. She wasn’t. She was the furthest thing from it. She was perfect. An angel. It was...the best thing that had ever happened to Harry—moving in across the street from someone so lovely. “Then how come she doesn’t get any gifts from Santa?” He was joking of course. Surely there would be a little white lie of how Santa left them at the North Pole or there was a promise of next year there would be double the amount for Mumma.
But he hadn’t anticipated Rory’s response. “Mumma said that she called Santa when I was born. She doesn’t want presents so I can have more. Mumma says that even his magic sleigh has a weight limit.”
Harry thought his heart might break. This was the third Christmas that Rory probably understood. His developmental psychology classes told him that age four is usually when kids start to get the gist of what Christmas is like for them. That meant for the time that they knew one another, she hadn’t gotten Christmas gifts from “Santa.”
It shouldn’t have been such a surprise to him. What else was she supposed to say to Rory? There wasn’t anyone to balance the gifts out so that she had something to open while Rory got new toys and clothes. Harry tried to think of what he got her over the last couple years. It wasn’t anything special because he couldn’t remember.
She was selfless, of course. Especially for Rory. It honestly made him fall more in love with her. Made him want to cry something awful as well. Harry wondered if she minded. Surely everyone in her life showered Rory with presents. He hoped that her family spoiled her just as much.
But he had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t the case.
“Boys, are we ready to go get some hot chocolate and start decorating?” She called.
Rory quickly handed over the racecar he wanted to get her and pushed it behind Harry’s legs where he could reach to hide it from Mumma. The pair of them smiled like they had just stolen a cookie from the kitchen after she said no. She smirked and met Harry’s gaze with a twinkle in her eyes, herself. “Yes, Mumma,” Rory said hurried to her side. He turned and put a finger to his lips toward Harry. So, he would keep the present a secret. He winked at the little one and caught her gaze once more so he could wink at her too. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention forward toward the checkout.
*
Don’t forget to invite Gemma and your Mum, please.
Harry smiled at his message as he and Gemma walked the aisles of the beauty store. Harry wanted to get her everything her heart desired and more, but wanted to make sure it was right—that required reinforcements.
“Does she use a face roller?”
“A what?”
“Jesus Christ, Harry,” she sighed in exasperation. She threw one in the basket.
“I don’t know, Gem. I don’t think she has a skincare routine. She’s usually making sure Rory gets a bath and goes t’bed.”
Gemma didn’t like that response. “Then we’re going to get her a spa day too after this,” she explained. “And you need to make sure she takes some time to herself every night,” she said knowingly. Harry nodded. He didn’t care about how many stores they were going to. He wanted this to be the Christmas of her dreams and more. He would get her anything and everything. Cost wasn’t a problem. And he was going to make sure she spent an hour to herself every night for the rest of their lives. “Does she ever complain of dry skin? Or that she looks oily?”
“No...” he shrugged again. Maybe he wasn’t paying as close attention as he thought he was to her self-care.
“Does she ever do anything for herself, Harry? Or do you just let her do everything?”
“Gemma. She is a selfless person. S’impossible t’do anything for her,” he resented the idea that he wasn’t doing a good job as her boyfriend. But Gemma wasn’t wrong. It sounded like he was doing a bad job.
“Okay, okay, you’re right,” she nodded in agreement. “Mum is getting her all sorts of clothes for us to split up and give to her,” she tossed three different serums into the little basket. “She wears makeup, right?”
Harry never thought she needed it, but he couldn’t help but be hypnotized by the way she glided the various liquids and powders over her face each morning. She did it quickly—with a six-year-old everything had to be done quickly. But it was like watching an artist as she put stuff on her face and turned even more beautiful than she was without it.
“Yes,” he said confidently feeling like he finally was contributing to this whole escapade.
“Does her stuff look old? Has she ever said anything about getting new makeup?”
He thought about all the brushes and tubes she used each morning. Harry thought all of them looked on the older side. “What’s the one y’dot on y’face? Under y’eyes?”
“Concealer.”
“She said they discontinued the brand, so she keeps putting water in hers.”
“Jesus Christ, that’s sad,” Gemma remarked. “Alright, I’ll get her the kind I liked. She can always return it. Give me your phone.”
Harry handed it over immediately. Gemma examined the picture of the pair of them in his background. A selfie from the symphony. Harry felt himself warm at the sight of her even on his own screen that he looked at no less than thirty times a day. While Gemma did her best to match her skin tone, Harry simply admired how pretty she looked and how even just her picture made him feel an overwhelming amount of love for his little life.
“It’s hard to tell in pictures, but she’s tanner than I am; lucky bitch,” Gemma grumbled. Harry smirked.
“Do you want anything for Christmas?” He asked his sister.
Gemma snorted. “She’s already way ahead of you, Harry,” Gemma smiled. “You’re about a month too late.”
He chuckled shyly. “Sorry, Gem.”
“It’s okay. It’s... really nice you have someone so thoughtful. As thoughtful as you. Maybe even more so just because she does it so early. But... I wouldn’t want you to be with someone less thoughtful. So it’s nice.” Harry agreed fully and smiled even brighter knowing that his sister loved his choice in love as much as he did. “Alright. We’re meeting Mum for lunch and then we are going to the home goods store for stuff she might need around the house... what are you doing about her stocking?”
“Doesn’t some of this stuff go in there?”
“Yeah... but like... you could get her jewelry or something.”
Harry nodded. “Okay... I’ll do that on my own.”
“Harry,” Gemma smiled at her little brother—even though he was a good seven inches taller. “You’re doing great. This is...” she sighed happily. “She’s going to love it.”
Harry felt a sense of pride wash over him even though his cheeks warmed at the praise. He really hoped she would.
*
“Harry?” She whispered in the middle of the night. They had spent an hour setting up Rory’s new roller coaster track after she finished wrapping a few last-minute gifts and pulling the presents from various hiding places—the shed in the backyard, the back of her car, and of course across the street at Harry’s house that had hardly seen anything else Christmas related since he spent all his time with her and Rory.
“Jus’ getting some water, kitten. Go back t’sleep,” he leaned down to kiss her forehead. She didn’t need to be told twice. Her light snores started almost instantly, which boded well for Harry. All her presents were in the back of his car. The transfer had been done late in the day by Gemma while the three of them went to the Christmas Eve fair put on by the local high school. They drank more hot chocolate than Rory could dream about. She worried the sugar would keep him up and prevent them from putting the presents under the tree.
Harry found Rory at the top of the stairs. A ribbon and sign across the way telling Rory not to go down without Mumma and Harry. He was asleep on the floor. A pillow from his room and covered with the blanket she and Rory made one rainy afternoon in November. She helped cut all the little ends while he did his best to tie them together.
Harry smirked and lifted Rory from the floor to bring him back to his bed. “Harry?” Rory murmured.
“Hmm?” He hummed.
“Did Santa come?” He yawned.
“Santa won’t come if y’aren’t in y’bed, lad,” he reminded him.
“I wanted to ask him to give Mumma some of my presents,” he muttered sleepily.
Harry felt his heart warm. “I’ll go write him a note,” he placed Rory on his little mattress, tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and ruffled his hair. “Don’t get out of bed, till morning, Rory. Or Santa won’t come,” he reminded him.
But Rory was already asleep.
*
“Mumma!” Rory’s little voice gasped. Harry’s eyes fluttered open to meet her sleeping figure. Her lips parted as she breathed. Harry reached out and put a hand on her face.
“Hey, beautiful,” Harry whispered and inched forward to place a kiss on her forehead. “S’time t’get up,” he murmured. “Merry Christmas,” he leaned closer to kiss the shell of her ear as he spoke softly to her. Meanwhile, Harry could hear Rory bouncing up and down the little hallway between their rooms and the stairs chanting that it was Christmas and Santa came.
Her lashes fluttered as she woke up, meeting Harry’s beautiful green eyes. “Harry, Santa came!”
He winked at her as she rubbed her eye tiredly. “Yeah, lad?” He smiled at the excitement. “Y’didn’t go down, did you?”
“No way, Jose!”
Harry chuckled. “D’you want t’come give Mummy a Christmas hug?” He asked.
There was a shift in weight on the bed as Rory’s little body flung himself in between the pair of them. “Merry Christmas Mumma,” he giggled and snuggled up to her. She smiled, burying her face in his hair, and squeezing him to her.
“Merry Christmas, love bug,” she sighed sleepily but very content.
“Can we go downstairs?” He was trying to wriggle free.
“I have to brush my teeth and we’ll go right down,” she promised and threw the covers back. “Maybe you should give Harry a Christmas tickle,” she suggested as she left the bed and Rory took her word and tickled Harry well enough to make him squirm and giggle himself.
“You’ll pay for that,” he kissed the side of her face as she exited the bathroom so Harry could brush his teeth too.
Rory was now bouncing with excitement, and she smiled sitting back on the bed while they waited for Harry. “What do you think Santa brought you?” She asked.
“I hope he brought me the roller coaster,” he crossed his fingers on both hands to show her and she mimicked the gesture while Harry returned as quickly as possible.
“Alrighty, I think we can go down now,” she smiled.
Harry grinned and followed behind the two of them. Rory was squealing and laughing as he reached the bottom of the stairs before they did. He hurried to the rollercoaster set and sent the little cart flying down the track while she tilted her head at the pile of presents that seemed to increase in size by at least a half.
“Did you get him more?” She muttered under her breath.
“Mumma!” Rory shouted. “Harry wrote Santa a note for me last night! Santa brought you some presents this year.”
She seemed to freeze in place and Harry put a hand on her lower back. “C’mon, kitten. S’Christmas,” he kissed the top of her head and nudged her toward the sofa so she could sit.
“H-he did, huh?” She looked overwhelmed at the pile of neatly wrapped presents with her name on them. Most were labeled from Santa. A few from Harry and one from Rory—the racecar of course.
“We start with the stockings,” Rory explained to Harry grabbing the one with an H on it and handing it to him. It was filled with little trinkets and items that she painstakingly tied with ribbons and candies that he would undoubtedly end up sharing with Rory until their stomachs hurt.
“Oh...I had a chat with Santa last night,” he recalled sitting beside the poor thing that was struggling to make sense of all the items under their overly decorated tree. “Santa agreed that I could do Mummy’s stocking from now on,” he told Rory.
“Mumma, Harry knows Santa too!” The poor thing was having a meltdown on the inside of her mind. It was clear on her face as she tried to factor in the price of all the presents that were tied nicely with bows and ribbons. Rory handed off her stocking as well and was lucky she didn’t drop it immediately. Lucky that Harry was sitting right beside her to hold it while he placed his beside him. Rory sat himself on the floor with the stocking between his legs. “Can I start?”
She was mute it seemed as she examined all the little items poking out of the top of the oversize sock. “Go ahead, lad,” Harry encouraged and squeezed her thigh. “You too, kitten,” he murmured into her ear.
“You...” she whispered breathlessly, cleared her throat and Harry saw the well of tears filling her eyes. “Santa brought me a lot of stuff,” she murmured while Rory oohed and ahhed over the little things filling his stocking.
“He told me that y’never have t’sacrifice Christmas on behalf of Rory anymore. That was really nice of you t’do it the last few years. But...he wants you t’get whatever y’ever want,” he cupped her cheek while Rory ripped open his bag of M&Ms spilling tens of them across the floor with a little scattering that she ignored because Harry was gazing at her like she was the most special thing on the planet.
Harry really, truly believed she was.
“Yeah?” She smiled, but her eyes were so watery it made him melt.
“Very much so,” he leaned forward and swept his lips across hers briefly so as not to get Rory’s attention to their yucky kissing. “Merry Christmas, m’love.”
“Merry Christmas, Harry,” she leaned toward him, resting against his chest. His arm draped over her while they watched Rory stuff a mouthful of M&Ms between his lips. They continued watching him open each and every present that was selflessly ticked off his list.
“This is the best Christmas ever,” Rory smiled excitedly.
“I think so too, love bug,” she giggled at him.
“Absolutely,” Harry agreed.
“How about a picture, Rory?” She asked grabbing her phone out of the pocket of her leggings. “C’mere,” she handed her phone to Harry and opened her arms for Rory to hop into her embrace. Rory situated himself half on her lap and half on Harry’s. She squeezed closer to Harry while he hold the phone out for a selfie. Rory held his little jar of slime out for the picture and Harry grinned into the camera as she rested her hand on Harry’s leg around Rory’s little body as best she could. “Alright one more,” Harry smirked and leaned toward her to steal a kiss that caused Rory’s face to wrinkle in distaste forever savoring the perfect moment on film.
A Christmas for the history books, for certain.
At least their history books.
--
general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @haarrrys @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown
neighbors taglist: @claimingharrystigertattoo @mopeymousey @vmpellie
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phoenix-eclipses · 1 month ago
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Our Scratched Record - Perfection is so Quick to Bore
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The first time their paths crossed wasn't on purpose. They sat atop the highest part of the playground, staring at the sky and the clouds creating their own unique shapes until a volleyball flew over them. It narrowly missed the young child before bouncing off the playground material and landing on the grass, the opposite side it had come from.
Curiously, they peeked over to see two boys their age run to grab it. One caught their eye, flushing a little bit as he made his friend look up and muttered something.
"Hey! Sorry if I hit you!" he bowed down with a smile, earning a hit from his friend, lecturing him on manners but the one on top just laughed.
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Their paths crossed once again at the park. A folder in their hand as they swing, staring at the clouds above. Instead of a volleyball crossing their sight, they're interrupted by the same boy peeking over on the side of the swing with a smile.
"That's a Kitagawa uniform, isn't it?" there was a brief moment of silence as the swinging stopped to properly stare at the boy. "I go there too! I'm a first year."
"...I am too. I just started last month."
"You came in the middle of the year?"
"My mom didn't like the school I started in, so she moved me. Apparently Kitagawa is better connected to some good high schools in the area."
"Oh! Like Aoba Johsai! That's where I wanna go! Their volleyball team is really good!"
"You play volleyball in school?"
"Of course! I'm a setter!"
"...I see... I don't know much about volleyball. Is it fun?"
"I can show you! It's a lot of fun!"
The boy grabbed their arm, the folder abandoned on the swing as he ran to where he left the volleyball in the grass. The papers inside filled of imperfect grades which seemed to fade from their mind as their new friend taught them volleyball.
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The first time they ever felt that their paths were connected in a deeper way was when they saw how much he strived for perfection in his sport. He carried a nonchalance for his grades, laughing off a B. When it came to volleyball, even the slightest change in his form that effected him negatively tore him down.
They started going with his friend to drag him away from the junior high's gym and treated him at a nearby convenience store to ensure he wasn't pushing himself.
But they saw that look in his eye each time they dragged him away, a look of desperation to return to volleyball before they managed to distract him with their presences. And yet, despite the amount of times they helped drag him away, it never felt like it was enough.
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Masterlist -- Next
Notes
I'm going to be honest, this randomly became a thing within the last few hours because I couldn't sleep
at this point (obviously) they're just finishing up at aoba johsai
based off what Ive seen (and what Im sticking with) Oikawa is in class 6 and yn is too, iwa is in 5, makki is in 3 and mattsun is in 1
everytime yn drops a pic thats mostly shadows, especially if oikawas hair is cut off/hard to see his fan girls frantically retweet trying to figure out which shadow he is
yn once joked about styling their hair like his just to mess with them so then there would be two
i cant decide on the general tone of this smau but currently its definitely more like serious with some light heartedness
like they still goofy but like a dang im suffering with some occasional jokes
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gayestyttdblog · 2 months ago
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~ warning: gray let the yap demons get to them at midnight on caffeine and this is the result ~ im literally feeling sickened by how much i love yttd. like i think it affected my life more heavily than i thought. i first played it sometime right after 2-2's release, i was probably about 12 or 13. i only played it because i loved danganronpa at the time and heard it was similar, but oh god did i rewrite my own fate with that decision. my love of this game, and more so my love of nao, predates a lot of aspects of me. i loved nao so much, i cant even remember why. i knew she was my favorite from the moment i saw her on the game's little banner. i loved her at such a surface level that it feels like i grew alongside my relationship with her as a character. when i first played the game, i was a middle school girl who was kinda sad a lot of the time. i saw nao in her weak moments and related to her. she was a comfort to me. then i got older, and i started to look into her more as i looked into myself. how she coped with things, how she grew throughout her arc, hell even her queercoded-ness seeped into me lol. and now im here. i turn 19 next year, im an art student in community college, and down to the little things i just... act like nao. its like i loved her so much i took on all the things i loved and became a version of myself that i loved just as much. and i think thats really beautiful. i didn't pay much attention to the game for a good while, probably 2-ish years while i was in an iffy relationship. about 3 months ago i started talking to a friend of a friend and we realized we both loved the game in the past and so we started a playthrough. we both forgot half the plot so it was basically like it was all new. the amount of joy i felt during those long nights of staying up and theorizing and making memes and laughing and just.... living. it's immeasurable. im in probably the best spot ive ever been in mentally and i attribute part of that to how yttd has affected me over the years and how its come back to me now. making this blog was definitely impulsive. i was in the midst of an identity crisis and all i wanted to do was talk about this game. i couldn't do it on my old blog, so i made this one. being able to be a part of the fandom and try my best to actively contribute to it has been such a blessing to me and ive been trying to figure out a way to thank all the people who have interacted with me and engaged with all my nonsense on here without it sounding weird and out of place. let this be my really awkward thank you to this community lol. i love this game and i love what it's done for me. here's to chapter 3-2's (definitely upcoming and very soon) release :)
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thedeafprophet · 11 months ago
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D for the trio
D. Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?
oh fun! I've had the three of them since 2020, and theyve all changed a bit over the past few years.
So, when i first started playing back in like 2020, this was the first takes i did on the trio ( i was more into pixel art back then):
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Josie has recieved the least amount of changes beyond adjustments to things here or there (cant fix whats already perfect), but Alex and Jamie have been pretty reworked (i swapped the hair colours almost immediatly)
This happened after i got bored in 2020, and stopped playing the game for a few months. when i came back in 2021 i rehashed Jamie and Alex, because they just didnt Feel Right
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Which much more closely resemble their current appearance. I had finally captured The Vibes.
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Everyone stayed pretty much the same in 2022, with some mild adornments here or there, and Josie getting her jacket.
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and then 2023 is where everyone is the most like their current form.
The only real notable changes have been things like Alex loosing his hat (i dont want to draw it anymore), Alex's hair getting a bit more curly, and Jamie's becoming a bit more wavy. I've modified outfits here or there but honestly they all just own multiple clothes.
Phyiscally, body type wise, Alex has become a lot more built and buffer over time + the facial hair (he went on T, good for him).
I've also made Jamie chubbier over time, which is in part just what feels more fun for the character + wanting to work on body types and also well.... to be a little personal, i got real sick in the past couple years with my swallowing disorder, which caused me to loose a lot of weight. Drawing Jamie just well, makes me feel good!
so.... YEA. thats my visual summary over the past years ive had them UwU
Ask Game From Here
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pansy-picnics · 4 months ago
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Hiya!
I’m curious, what do you think uknighted dream would argue about and how would they apologise to each other?
Cause I personally think Cass hates apologising, Eugene’s not used to it, and Rapunzel according to the show can do no wrong!
Oh, and if you don’t mind me asking, are you planning on updating Children of the moon soon? Sorry, it’s just one of my favourite fics for this ship!
Thank you x
God ive been so bad about that fic i swear i have so many ideas for it but this year has been SOOO busy for me 😭😭 most of my free time has been dedicated to drawing and playing games cuz writing doesn’t come as naturally to me ngl….BUT SOON ENOUGH I WILL LOCK IN I PROMISE!!!! its been crossing my mind a lot more recently snd ive started a little bit of the next chapter…Ur guys’ support means the world to me im so happy to know people enjoy it as much as i do 🥹 and i desperately wish i had more time to dedicate to all my projects
as for your first question though….LMAO yeah the show did rapunzel DIRTY….Honestly it really depends for me, but i think you’re definitely right about cass and eugene. and rapunzel definitely struggles i think to apologize Genuinely, because she can get really overwhelmed with her guilt and anxiety to the point that she loses sight of the actual problem. its kind of a rough spot for all of them
I honestly haven’t thought abt it a lot so idk if i know what they’d fight about Specifically, but what i can come up with off the top of my head is ummm
rapunzel is a chronic Fixer. whenever someone expresses a problem to her shes quicker to try and “solve” it than she is to just. Listen because she kind of has grown up with the idea that everything is Her fault and She needs to fix everything. I think cass and eugene can end up feeling really unheard because of this. Usually it’s just something they can quickly talk through but when put on top of other conflicts it exacerbates things a LOT.
Raps, cass and eugene can all be INCREDIBLY stubborn and set in their ways and they sometimes struggle to hear each other out. rapunzel i think has her moments, but generally she isn’t too bad about it; eugene has a temper and he can be VERY petty but i think unless he REALLY has a reason to hold a grudge against you, he usually just needs about a week to cool down- but Queen of Anxious Attachment Cassandra Tangled (tm) can end up going AGES holding a grudge and just refusing to check in with anyone. as you probably can imagine it does not go well
i think bc rapunzel has such a strong belief that love is transactional she sometimes gets trapped in a cycle where she basically attempts to min-max her time with eugene and cass respectively because she worries if she isn’t spending “equal” amounts of time with them then it means she must not love them enough. as you might imagine this causes a lot more harm than good….
cass is REALLY REALLY bad at asking for help and being vulnerable and especially admitting when someone does something that hurts her. i think this causes a LOT of really stupid miscommunications between them. eugene or rapunzel are both usually able to talk her through it depending on who shes upset at…and it really helps to have a third party there who she trusts because otherwise it could easily just spiral out of control and cause her to grow bitter and distant (As seen in canon LOL)
Ummm….To be completely honest i cant really see a lot of situations where cass and eugene like, Genuinely fight after they get with rapunzel. they obviously still bicker a lot but like, frankly after they’ve both figured their shit out i just don’t think they have much of a reason to fight anymore. Their whole rivalry has always been really childish and most of the more serious stressors have already been taken care of by the time the series ends. i think most of their fights are just over stupid shit and get resolved within the hour. i think they’d have to both go through a MAJOR traumatic event to actually get as bad as they were in season 1 again LMAOOO
How they apologize definitely depends a lot on the situation (go figure) but i genuinely dont think they get into Big fights very often…so when it does happen it takes a toll on all of them.
eugene i imagine is a little extra but sincere. doesn’t do Too much because he doesn’t want to overwhelm the girls, but probably just picks a quiet night and orders takeout or makes a small dinner to talk over. sometimes it can take eugene a while to realize when he’s fucked up but when he DOES realize it, it hits him like a TRUCK and he IMMEDIATELY jumps to do everything in his power to rectify it. he’s a big softie <3
cass is a lot more prideful than raps and eugene whether she realizes it or not, so its a lot harder for her to admit her faults, even when she knows she was wrong. she doesn’t like to make a big deal of when she apologizes because it’s really embarrassing for her. she’s the kind of person to send the apology text to the group chat and have to like physically put her phone down and start pacing around the room. To me.
rapunzel, like i said struggles to genuinely apologize because her anxiety and guilt can just become so overwhelming….she usually has to spend a bit of time away before shes ready to Really talk things out. When she is she definitely shows it quietly but clearly, she writes little notes with a paper bouquet and leaves them around where the other two will find them. they leave her little notes back and let her come to them when she’s ready.
admittedly i’m Not good with thinking of character conflicts off the top of my head, they have to come to me in Visions, and i just don’t end up thinking about a lot of ukd conflicts so hopefully this is okay LOL…..I would love to hear other ppls thoughts….. :3
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