#5.7-liter

[polymoth]

In the groupchat doing Blood and Bones Math

[liinos]

excited &team is getting really good views on war cry vs being mad at how few firework has 😭

[mrchiipchrome]

You Always Go To The Parties

W.C. - 5.7 k

okay so this is the project i've been working on for a little, hope y'all like it:) (also listen to American Wedding by Frank Ocean while y'all read this.)

To clarify, this is a lionesses x r series too, but this is literally just the chapter of introduction so that we can get to know the characters.

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“Do I really have to go? I can’t even drink legally here.” You groan, there was nothing stopping you from collecting your things and getting the hell out of that apartment in Boston, well except the manners instilled in you from an early age. There was nothing you’d like more than to crawl up in bed and sleep for the next few weeks.

No way Emma would let you do that. 

The sophomore defender had been one of the only people that had come back to college early, having been asked to show you around the campus and the facilities. She had quickly taken you under her wing, which meant that she wouldn’t let you sulk in bed the rest of August.

Brown cardboard boxes filled to the brim with different things, ranging from clothes to knick knacks, were stacked to the ceiling in the otherwise empty apartment. You didn’t mind, clearly, but it bothered Em.

You tuck your hands behind your head, staring up at the ceiling from your mattress that was placed directly on the floor. Your button up had the first few buttons undone, the top of your chest displayed for Em to see, you had even put your fancy trousers on for the stupid party you didn’t even want to attend.

“Yes, you really have to. How else do you expect to make friends, your cute British accent will only get you that far, you actually need to put in some effort okay?” Rolling your eyes at her words, you were quickly made to get up off the makeshift bed, getting pushed towards the door.

“But-” 

“No buts, you are going because I need someone to drive me home when I’m black out drunk tonight, you don’t want me to drink and drive right?” You can’t help but contemplate over her words, feeling the girl’s hand come down on your shoulder harshly. 

Clearly she didn’t like that.

“I mean you could just, I don't know…not drink?” She looks at you like she’s disgusted you’d even think about saying something like that, like she has to drink.

“Wow, it really is obvious your parents are rich.” You lock the door up as you look at her through the corner of your eye, a slightly judgemental look in your eyes.

Your parents were rich, but they didn’t spoil you so you weren’t one of those snobby rich kids, you were just like anyone else. Only you had access to more money than most.

“Shut up.” Emma puts her hands up in the air, like she’s surrendering to you, but you see the way she’s smiling slyly at you. Note to self; don’t get defensive when Em brings up your rich parents.

“You know, I could use a new Gucci bag if you want to contact daddy dear.” She looks up at you pleadingly as you make your way to her car, there was no way you’d use your car, it was far too expensive to be left outside a frat house. You really had to get a more beat up one.

Maybe you’d sell it, and donate the money you got for it to charity. 

“Aw, we’re taking my car?” Em whines, clearly she wanted to take your cool car.

“Aw, I’m not leaving my really expensive car outside of a frat house for hours.” You roll your eyes at her almost like she’s stupid, throwing her the keys so that she could drive, you didn’t even know where it was you were going.

“You know, you are really sassy for being a rich kid.” Em pulls out of the garage, the apartment complex you were living in was just off campus, so near that you walked there every day for pre-pre-season training (absolutely destroying Em every single time without fail).

“Yeah well, I grew up in the public education system in London, so that’s where I get it from.” You look on as the girl in the driver’s seat taps her fingers against the steering wheel, waiting for the red light to turn green.

“Really, I would’ve thought that they had you in private school from the second you popped out.” The green light stands out against the quickly darkening sky, starless and rather bleak, but that’s what you get for living in a big city.

“Nope, they wanted me to have a normal childhood, so here I am.” You motion to yourself, feeling the bumps and dips of the road beneath you, damn potholes.

“I mean fair enough right.” A certain quietness envelops the space between the two of you, it wasn’t uncomfortable, just present without any real purpose.

Your eyes slip shut, with Em turning the radio on, playing soft instrumental music like you weren’t in the middle of Boston where most people prefer hip hop and bubblegum pop. That was probably the biggest culture shock you'd been given so far, the music.

At home it was different, in a neutral way. It was neither better nor was it worse, but it was simply different.

You sink into your seat, the cool air blasting across your skin in that refreshing way, the summer’s heat canceled out by the air coming from the car. Slowly, sleep starts to take over your body in that calming sort of way that you’d wished for earlier.

It had only felt like moments since you’d fallen asleep as Em shakes your shoulders to get you to wake up, the pulsing music coming from the frat house a walking distance away already making your ears hurt. You look around at the surrounding nature, it wasn’t familiar to you, not the trees you’d found yourself memorizing nor the architecture present in Boston.

Even the people looked different, shirts with the printing of a dog on the front instead of the three books representing Harvard. Stupid of you to assume that Em would be rational for once.

“Where are we Em?” You ask, voice riddled with a sleepy kind of innocence that suggested that not everything had registered yet.

“We are in Connecticut, home of the huskies and what might be the best parties you’ll ever experience.” Your eyes shoot open wide, a more than flabbergasted look on your face at her naïve words.

“You kidnapped me and then drove me all the way to Connecticut for a party we could just as well have found in Boston?!” You ask her incredulously, like you couldn’t really believe her. And you couldn’t.

“Yeah, technically I did but you’ll also get to experience the party of your lifetime, so I think that it’s fine.” She tries to justify her actions by trying to reason with you, and whilst it doesn’t work in the way she wishes, Emma’s just happy you’re not totally freaking out.

“Come on grumpy, let’s go. Who knows, you might even have some fun.” Em pulls you along towards the house spewing flashing lights in a hundred different colors.

You let your eyes adjust to the blinking lights as you enter through the open front door, seeing the entire bottom floor of the mansion-like house covered with hundreds of students, packed together tightly like a sweaty sardine can.

The house reeks of bad body wash, moldy pits and strong cheap alcohol, and in a sense of the word Em really did tell the truth, you’d never seen anything like it before. It was almost like those frat boys couldn’t afford to buy deodorant.

If your arm wasn’t as firmly attached to your body as it was, you were sure that Emma would’ve torn it off by now, the resistance of the sweaty bodies pushing against your own as she leads you to the kitchen proving to be a difficult task for her weak arms.

Reaching the entrance of the large kitchen, the first thing you notice is that it’s not as tightly packed as the living room, only a few stragglers here and there with the stereotypical red solo cups can be found in every single person’s hand. Future alcoholists.

 “Okay, base rules since you’ve never been to a college party before, don’t take a drink from anyone you don’t know, don’t accept anyone’s request to go upstairs or somewhere private, you’ll most likely get robbed, don’t be too snarky, people don’t appreciate that and… I think that’s all. Have a nice night!” And with that she’s off to the living room, plucking a cup from a random man’s hand and taking a sip before leading him to the dance floor.

Yeah, base rules or whatever.

Standing alone in the kitchen, you suddenly feel so awkward. The only real parties you’d been to were the one’s your friends threw when your parents were away on their stupidly long business trips, just the chaotic friend group drinking together.

So this, college parties, was something that was totally out of your comfort zone and you’d never hated anyone as much as you hated Em right at that moment.

Spotting a boy out of the corner of your eye, you approach him with confident, yet still relatively hesitant steps, a question at the tip of your tongue. He looks up at you when you’re close enough to smell the odor of old spice deodorant and way too much sweat, his hat turned backwards on his head to hide the greasy hair still somehow poking its way through.

You almost feel bad for the poor thing, well that is until his mouth opens and you’re staring into the hell that is a frat boy’s gob. 

“‘Sup dude, what can I do for you?” His eyes run all along your body, from your ankles up to your face where he notices the annoyed expression.

“I was wondering if you had anything non alcoholic.” You smile staley, eyebrows furrowing together when his eyes light up like a kid on christmas. His laugh feels slightly insulting, especially when his hand comes up to point at you, but there’s really not a lot you could do.

“Dude totally, say the thing though.” You look at him confused, like you didn’t know what he meant. Spoiler alert; you did. “Y’know bo'ohw'o'wo'er.” 

He laughs again when you roll your eyes, and even if all you desire is to punch his stupid face in, you still say the phrase. Was it worth it for a coke? Eh, debatable.

He opens the fridge and throws you the can and laughs once more at your dirty look.

Sipping the drink slowly as you make your way around the house, the UConn students around you stare unashamedly at you, like they knew your face from somewhere, but you weren’t familiar per se. 

Your face scrunches up at the metallic taste of the American coke, much preferring the Mexican one they had in the canteen. You couldn’t complain too much though, you were the one who actually let yourself get dragged to the party.

It’s sudden, the way her eyes catch yours. Deep pools of endearing brown that capture your entire soul in a single second. The girl was mesmerizing as she stood leaning against the wall across from you, her long brown hair falling so effortlessly down her back.

Her gaze is just focussed on you for a second or two, her attention soon being stolen by the man standing in front of her, a sleazy smirk on his face as his eyes ran all along her body. It was clear that she was uncomfortable purely by the way her lips were turned downwards and the way her hands fiddled with the hem of her crop top.

There seems to be a lull in their one sided conversation as she looks to you almost pleadingly, getting the hint almost immediately, you walk over with confident steps, dropping the now empty can on the floor on the way.

The man is almost as tall as you, his burly shoulders disproportionate to the rest of his awkward body, his meaty hands gripping the red cup tightly like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. His hooded eyes do a once over when he spots you nearing them, almost turning a green pale at the sight of you.

You don’t understand why, there was no way you knew him and being recognised as Harvard’s newest addition would be unlikely. Especially in Connecticut.

“Everything alright here?” The girl seems startled by your accent, but she quickly schools her features so as to not show her surprise. Her hands wrap around your waist, and when you look down at her she looks back up at you with pleading eyes, asking you to just go along with it for the time being.

Your arm wraps around her shoulders and she leans into your body almost subconsciously, like you’ve known each other for much longer than you have.

“Yeah, everything’s going good.” He says, not backing down despite having been nervous at your mere presence only seconds before.

“Really? Because from where I stood it looked like you were flirting with my girlfriend.” You don’t even get the satisfaction of watching his gummy smile fade from his thin lips as he takes in your words, because he walks away from you before you can see it.

It makes you chuckle, especially since he walks up to another girl almost immediately, getting turned down in the same second.

“You okay?” You question the girl in your arms, her hand still resting on your waist as you take her in. You can feel her hair against your arm, her nails digging into your skin ever so slightly and the rest of her body pressed so tightly against your own.

“Yeah, he just wouldn’t leave me alone, thank you for the help.” She smiles at you sweetly, her brown eyes shining under the flashing lights. You smile back at her softly, noticing the way her grip loosens, you quickly let up on your grip of her shoulders.

Her unsure steps catch your attention as she takes your hand in her soft one, just like Em had done earlier in the evening.

“Where are you taking me?” You laugh through the sentence as she tries to pull you through the crowd of people, stumbling over her feet clumsily every so often.

“Do you like burgers?” She questions hastily, nearly having pulled you all the way to the front door already, she was a lot stronger than Em that’s for sure.

"Doesn't everyone?” You smile goofily when she looks back at you, her eyes narrowed playfully when you send her a wink. It’s only when you’re already out the door that you realize that Em is still in there, with people you don't know. Strangers.

You stop walking, the girl’s hand still in yours as she too stops, looking back at you confused.

“I’m sorry but my friend, Em, is still in there and I don’t want to leave her alone with strangers.” Her eyes light up again and you look at her weirdly, not understanding why she looked so happy that you had to leave.

“Em Whitmore?” She giggles at the shocked look on your face, clearly you didn’t know much about Em, the girl thinks to herself. You look at her suspiciously, how did she know Em?

“Yeah…how’d you know?” You ask her, still suspicious of her pretty intoxicated form. Her laugh carries all throughout the empty night, no one out and about except you and the mystery girl who’s soft hand is still in yours.

“I know her brother, she comes to a lot of parties here, because she knows she’ll be safe.” The brunette starts pulling you along again and you let yourself follow her, no longer worried about your Harvard counterpart. Her brother wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

By the time you reach the 50’s themed diner, you’ve already walked for ten minutes, side by side with the dark haired girl. You’re lucky that it wasn’t too far away, the half stumbling girl beside you probably wouldn’t have been able to walk that far without falling over.

The bell at the top of the door chimes when she pushes it open, the bored looking cashier perking up when he sees your companion. It was empty in the diner and you couldn’t imagine that keeping it open for this long wasn’t only for the drunk college students looking for a quick snack.

She drags you over to a booth in the corner, decorated in red and white stripes, a glass with straws standing in the middle of the table with a napkin holder beside it.

“Welcome to Donna’s Diner, what can I get for you?” The boy from the counter comes up to the booth after you’ve both settled, handing the two of you plastic menus. The dark haired girl smiles up at him, that fantastic glint in her eye once more.

“Come on now Alex, no need to be all professional.” You look up at him from where you’re sitting, his blonde hair curling around his ears, green eyes staring into yours kindly, thin fingers clasping the small notebook in his hands.

“Alex, this is my new friend, she knows Callum’s little sister, mystery friend, this is Alex and he’s in one of my classes.” You smile at him softly, sticking your hand out for him to shake, and he does take it in a confident grip, sending you a smile of his own.

“I’m Y/n.” Now the mystery girl looks up at you, finally a name attached to your face.

“Nika, I already know what you want, but how about you?” He looks to you when he speaks, obviously you wouldn’t know what to order, it being your first time there and all.

“I’ll just have whatever she’s having with a chocolate milkshake.” Alex disappears behind the counter again, your eyes following his retreating form. Looking away from the kitchen door, your eyes quickly meet the ones of the girl you now know as Nika.

One of her hands was tucked under her chin, keeping her head up in order to look at you. Relaxing into the cushions behind you, the small smile slowly taking over your face suddenly becomes full blown.

“What is it?” She giggles under her breath at your inquisitive look, and despite not knowing much more than her name, you already felt like she knew your soul inside and out.

“Nothing…it’s just that this is the last place I would’ve thought that you would bring me to.” The furrow in her brow is frankly quite adorable, her head turning to the side just in time to catch Alex walking out the kitchen with your food. 

You see the way her eyes light up again, the platter of pure greasy goodness at the center of her attention right at that moment. All you could think about at that second was how thankful you were that the season hadn’t started yet, because everything there broke every single diet you could think of.

Looking to the brunette, the laugh bubbling up from the pit of your stomach is almost one of wonder, because the beautiful girl had already managed to get through half the burger that was in front of her. It seemed like her intoxicated brain only was focussed on one thing, satiating her hunger.

It isn’t long until you follow her lead, picking up the burger and just trying to get the most you could of it in your mouth. You can’t help the groan that escapes you when the exquisite flavours hit your taste buds all at once, having to lean back into the cushions of the booth to be able to take it all in, closing your eyes fully to enhance the experience even further.

It’s only when she laughs that you finally open your eyes again, only to see her looking right at you like you were made of glass, like she could read you like a book and then play you like a fiddle.

“I understand, I had the exact same reaction when I tried it.” She continues to giggle at you when you start to eat like a poor man starved. It was a funny sight to be fair, the way your fancy act completely disappears when in contact with amazing food.

“How’d you even find this place?” You question her when you’ve swallowed and wiped your mouth off with a napkin, you still had manners after all. She smiles at you, gesturing at your surroundings, at the tables and the booths, the chairs and the ketchup bottles, at everything.

“I was drunk after a party once in freshman year and I just stumbled across it.” You nod in response, completely understanding the randomness of how she’d found the place. When you’re drunk, all you want is some greasy food.

“So it’s a well guarded secret between the students then? I assume there’s usually more people here at this time of night.” You take a sip of the milkshake when the last word has fallen from your lips, heat spreading across your face at the intense look you’re getting from the brunette in front of you.

It’s probably just because she’s drunk, you think quietly to yourself, almost trying to convince your mind that the stupidly attractive smile on her face was just one of momentary value, that it was only because it was late and you were tired that it affected you in the way it did.

“Yeah, something like that.” She responds, a comfortable silence enveloping you two as you continue to eat.

The only thing that could be heard was the murmur of the fan across the room, the patting of the fingers of the boy, Alex, at the counter and the sound of shallow breathing. Well that was until her accented voice breaks it with a question.

“So, how’d you manage to befriend the girl with the scariest brother ever?” Nika asks you, her fingers playing with the napkin she’d taken only moments before. Her teeth capture her bottom lip softly as she looks at you tentatively, she’s positively driving you nuts with her pure unfiltered beauty.

“Well, for starters we both play football for Harvard, but she was the first one there to greet me, to help me pack up the necessities and all that. She never did mention a brother though.” You relish in the way she looks at you, all flustered and sweet despite you not having done anything in particular. It was adorable. Pause.

She nods absentmindedly, opening her mouth to speak before closing it and then opening it again, resembling a fish out of water more than anything.

“Were you going to say something love?” You ask the now blushing girl, and she hides her face in her hands at the embarrassment, clearly having zoned out for a little while there.

Reaching over, you pat her shoulder comfortingly before you ask her your next question.

“How about you? How do you know Em’s brother?” Nika reaches over the table to steal a few of your fries, laughing at the betrayed look on your face.

Maybe it was the drinks or maybe you were just funnier than you’d originally thought, either way the angelic sound of her laughing had graced your ears many times that evening. Not that you minded, you didn’t even mind a little bit.

“He plays basketball, I play basketball, and sometimes we train together.” You can’t help the feeling taking over you, the burning feeling that makes you question everything you’d ever known about yourself. Just the thought of your friend’s brother getting to enjoy her company makes the feeling inside you that much worse.

 It seems like she sees the way your expression changes just that little bit before it goes back to normal.

“So, you’re like…close?” You ask the basketball player timidly, rolling your eyes only seconds later when the brunette decides to take a sip of your milkshake.

“No, not especially close. I mean, we talk when we have to at the shared training sessions, but not outside of it. But realistically though, who in the world of college sports doesn’t know Callum Whitmore?” Looking at her cluelessly, you sarcastically shrug as if to say you, because you truly hadn’t known a single thing about the man before she had told you.

By the third time Nika reaches for your fries, you decide to just push them towards her and let her have them, you weren’t even hungry after the monster burger you’d just consumed. It wasn’t at all just because she was too pretty not to get whatever she wanted. Pause.

“You want to switch?” She gestures to your drinks, she’d gotten a strawberry milkshake that she didn’t seem to fancy all that much right at that moment. Sighing goodnaturedly, you give her a nod and allow her to take whatever was left of your shake, smiling softly as you sip absentmindedly at the pink shake she’d given you. 

Soon enough, the only thing that could be heard over the natural noise of the diner was the slight slurping every so often.

“I just got to go wash up, then I’ll walk you home, okay?” The brunette nods as she looks at you leaving, pulling out her phone to seemingly start to text someone not long after.

You walk up to Alex, who’s still standing at the counter and he smiles in your direction when you near, only seeing you out of the corner of his eye. Pulling out your wallet, you hold out your card to him.

“Could you do a to go order? God knows she’ll need that in the morning.” You nod your head in Nika’s direction, Alex smiling widely at you.

“You know, I’ve never seen her with you before…” His voice trails off, as if to tell you to fill in the blanks.

“Yeah, we only met tonight.” You smile at him staley, not understanding why the timeline of events was so important.

“You must be special then if she brought you here, it’s not often she brings anyone other than her friends here after a night out. Nico, drop me two burgers on the grill, one choc milkshake and a strawberry one.” As you walked towards the bathroom of the establishment, putting your card back in your wallet, you started to think about his words, wasn’t this place well known? What made it so special to Nika that the server had to point out how she never brought strangers there?

Wiping your hands off on your trousers, you go up to your table to collect Nika before swinging by the counter to pick up your to-go order, the brown paper bag looking out of place next to the two of you. It seems like she’s sobered up at least a little as she looks at you questioningly, her eyes soon falling to the bag in your hands and then back up at your face.

The bell chimes again when the two of you exit the diner, the cooling air of the late night a contrast to the warm atmosphere of the diner.

“What’s that for?” The furrow in her brow is so endearing that you almost feel the skip in your heartbeat, her eyes narrowing at you ever so slightly. Her arm threads through yours, one of your hands in the pocket of your trousers, creating the perfect space for her arm to go through.

You sneak a glance at her, flyaways being highlighted by the streetlights you were passing. Her head meets your shoulder as you start to walk back to the party, her apartment couldn’t be too far from it considering she hadn’t mentioned anything when you offered to walk her home.

“It’s for you, I just know that hungover Nika is going to crave Donna’s diner’s milkshakes to calm her raging headache.” You tease her softly, but there was definite truth there either way.

If there was one thing you knew about being hungover, then it was that good food usually helped at least a little (well, after the spells of throwing up everything from the previous night.) You give her a cheeky smile as you near the party once more, the booming music being heard from miles away. 

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” She speaks sincerely, you just smile at her in response, did you have to do it? No, but she’d kept you company all night so you did it anyway.

“Hey, can I just stop by my friend’s car before I walk you home? I just have to get something.” You were so thankful that you’d stolen the keys from Em before you went into the party only hours before. Leading her to the beat up truck, unlocking it and opening the door, you place the bag on the ground before you look through the glove compartment.

Finding the cartridge of painkillers and the pen that you were searching for with a small ‘aha’. The post-it notes Em always kept in her car finally came to use when you stole one, writing a quick message on it before sticking it to the plastic of the painkillers and dropping it down the brown paper bag.

You lock the car up, despite it being a piece of shit that no one would ever steal, Em always insisted on you locking it. 

Walking up to her side once more, you open your mouth to speak.

“So, lead the way home love.” You gesture for her to take the lead, it was her apartment after all. Taking your free hand in hers, the girl starts to lead you towards her apartment building, walking calmly side by side with your hands swinging between your bodies.

After passing countless trees, and even more cars, you suddenly find yourselves at the bottom of the slanted hill leading up to where she lives, and when you actually start to walk up the long walkway, it’s slowly almost like you’re both resisting the natural order of events.

But you had to leave her, both Em and Harvard were waiting for you and no matter how much you tried to resist, you knew that’s ultimately where you had to go, it was your life even if the girl you’d just met seemed far more interesting than anything.

When you reach the top, just meters away from the door, you hand her the bag, smiling timidly when she reached out to hug you, her inviting perfume enveloping you in a blanket of warmth. When she pulls away, she thanks you one last time for your kindness.

“Really, it’s no problem.” You reassure her, smiling softly when she turns back towards you one last time before the distance between you becomes larger and larger, her fingers soon punching in the code to open the door.

“Wait!” You call out for her right as she’s about to enter the building, her head turning back to you questioningly. “Don’t forget to put it in the fridge when you get in.” She smiles and nods before disappearing behind the door.

You start your walk back to the party a few minutes after the door has closed, something just keeping you rooted to the ground. It wasn't until you heard your name get called by that familiar voice that you turned around, seeing Nika through her open window, waving at you as you walked away.

It almost felt like you were in some cheesy romance movie as you waved back, turning to walk away after she closed her window. 

Truth be told, the evening had felt like something straight out of a romcom and some part deep down loved it. It loved the cheesy moments of pure unbridled love, the ability to express yourself freely, to dance in the rain, be your true authentic self in front of someone else was something you didn’t even know you longed for before you met Nika.

You shove your hands into the pockets of your trousers, every step you take moving you closer and closer to the frat house, closer to Em and closer to getting back to Boston.

Seeing Em sitting out on the steps of the house has you confused, why was she out there?

“Em? What are you doing out here?” You ask the clearly incredibly intoxicated Emma, your loud voice not even startling her, her slow movements showing just how drunk she is. The squeal she lets out when she sees you has you covering your ears, the intrusive sound killing your tired head.

She tries to stand up, but it just looks like Bambi on ice, stumbling and falling at every second. You come up and sling her arm around your shoulder, bringing her over to her car and sitting her down in the passenger seat.

“I’m not cleaning up if you throw up in here, just so you know.” She nods drunkenly, clearly not understanding a word you were saying.

“The reason why I was sitting outside is a long story.” She leans her head against the window, and knowing Em, she was probably imagining herself in a music video right at that moment.

“You can tell me tomorrow.” The car starts with a rumble and you pull out of the parking space on the side of the road, quickly pulling out and starting to drive on the main road.

It’s quiet for a while and you almost believe that Emma’s asleep, well almost since her feet move back and forth against the floor every so often.

“Where were you huh? What were you doing?” Her words are incredibly slurred and you can barely make out what it is she’s trying to say.

“None of your business mate.” She snickers at you, reading way too much into your response than she should have.

“You got some.” The way your face turns red doesn’t help your case even in the slightest, especially when she herself points out your reddening cheeks.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Em.” Your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, still embarrassed by her insinuation.

“Mhm, you totally got some pussy.” You sigh as she laughs again, she was clearly getting a lot more joy from the situation than you were.

“Go to sleep Em.”

“Mhm.”

Maybe she had been right after all, maybe you had fun and maybe, just maybe the decision to go to the party was a good one. Not that you’d ever let her know that.

[inkdemonloveswoman]

How the Hazbin Hotel characters will react to you sleeping on them. <3

Tw: mentions of sex in Angel dusts part, fluff, cursing, mention of sex on Adams part

Genre: fluff, Sfw

POV: second pov

Character: Alastor, Husk, Lucifer, Angel dust, Charlie, Vaggie, Sir pentious, velvette, Adam, vox, lute, Valentino, fat nuggets

ALASTOR

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Alastor would probably push you off the first time, he’s not used to physical touch. Usually only shaking your hand. If anyone SAT on him they were on a suicide mission for sure. When you did it a second time, laying your head on his shoulder he was just stiff. Not blinking, like if he did it would wake you up. I would give him like a 6/10. He definitely smells a little old but a nice homey old yk?

HUSK

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Husk is always in the bar. Doing his job. When has he ever sat down? Well when you saw him sit down on the couch when Alastor was giving a tour of cannibal town to Charlie. You snuck your way over and sat next to him and laying your head on his fuzzy shoulder. He opened his eyes and let out a scoff. Closing his eyes again and not caring. Two minutes later he will lean against you in return, purring gently. I’d give him like a 6.5/10, the smell of cheap booze filling your nose, that took some points off. Didn’t even smell good. But he’s warm 🧍‍♀️

LUCIFER

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Lucifer, the short king. He’s so cute and clingy. If you sat next to him he’s immediately clinging on you with his arms. You both fell asleep after a couple minutes cause of how comfortable it was. He’s pretty warm, but he was still wearing his suit which didn’t feel the best while sleeping. I’d give him a 7/10, he smells like apples and apple pie :D

Angel dust

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Angel dust, a fluffy white p0rnstar spider. Your favorite spider. He’s SO fluffy. Once you sit next to him he’s already carrying you to his bed and laying down with you, fat nuggets snuggling between you too. Would be the person to know how to comfort you, but not know how to comfort himself. You give him cuddles after a long shooting. He jokingly complains about it to you to make it feel better, such as, “ughhh. All my holes are so sore, I’m dying” he snickered after that. Probably high. I would give him a 7.5/10, extra points for the chest fluff. He kinda smells like alcohol though…

CHARLIE!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Charlie is the sweetest girl in hell. EVER. Literally she will get you a blanket if it’s a cold day in the hotel, or make sure you’re satisfied with sleeping on her. Istg she’s one of the best people, but she also won’t stfu. So- 9/10. I don’t have to explain.

VAGGIE

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Vaggie accidentally pushes you off of her. Idk what else to say. She’s just grumpy asf. But she also doesn’t talk a lot so you would go to sleep easier if she doesn’t push you off on accident. She’s at least a 5/10.

SIR PENTIOUS

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Such a sweetie boy. My god. Do I even have to explain? He would probably be so awkward but then slither his tail around you. His little egg bois jump up and see this as nap time. It looked like an army of eggs just laying next to you. Sir pentious? More like sir precious. 9.5/10.

Velvette

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

I love velvette. . She’s so cool. But once you lay on her she gags quietly at your outfit, she’s being very dramatic. She would try her hardest to not mess up her hair. Bout a 6/10

ADAM

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Literally just wants to have sex with you. 2/10

VOX

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Would let you use his lap while he works in his office. If someone walks in? They’re already dead. Bout a 5.6/10

LUTE

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Immediately thinks you’re trying to kill her, and probably pushes you off intentionally. Then regrets it a little after five minutes. She’s fine, but if you sat on her lap or lay on her infront of Adam, prepare for a surprise at home. 5.7/10

VALENTINO

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

-10009990000/10. You already know.

FAT NUGGETS!!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

♾️/10.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

A/N: sorry these were short, I was rushing since I’m starting school in a couple days 💩 hope you enjoyed! Bye loves!!

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 10

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: It’s no longer Halloween, but the ghosts from yours and Eddie’s pasts are coming back to haunt you.

5.7 Words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

You had always heard the phrase “speak of the Devil and he shall appear”, but you didn’t think that line was supposed to be so literal.

You and Eddie starred in shock as your shared connection stood in front of the two of you, smiling at Eddie as if he were an old friend. If Chris noticed any animosity in your faces, it didn’t show. Either he was oblivious, or you and Eddie were good at hiding what you two were feeling right now. 

“I thought I saw you in the lobby earlier.” Chris said, walking over to the two of you, ruining your moment together. “I didn’t think you were one for the theater since you never did come and see the Spring play that I worked so hard on.”

Eddie looked weirded out by this, to say the least. 

“Sorry, I was busy trying to finish the campaign that you started.” Eddie said. “I didn’t exactly have time to go.” 

Well, you were really in the middle of this now. You shifted slightly closer to Eddie, looking over Chris. He was almost unrecognizable from his school photos and how you remembered him on that day. No longer the pale and scrawny kid with the constantly pissy face, Chris was actually smiling and it was honestly off-putting. He looked more tan than he had in school, but there was a faint orange tint to his skin that looked unnatural under the yellow lighting of the marquis. 

A fake tan. That’s what it had to be. Chris was sporting a fake tan for his role as Rocky. 

You should have been Riff Raff. Or not here at all. You thought to yourself. 

“Are you still mad that I left Hellfire?” Chris asked. “That was four years ago! Plus, I handed everything over to you, didn’t I? You got to finally be the Dungeon Master, and I got to find something I enjoyed. I think it’s a fair trade.” 

Eddie still didn’t seem impressed, but kept his mouth shut. Chris turned his attention to you. 

“I’ve seen you before.” he said. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”

You blinked in surprise. There’s no way you would have missed him if he came to this show a lot, right? 

“Yeah, how did you know?” you asked slowly. 

“I’ve been running tech for the show since March.” Chris had a smug look on his face that made your stomach churn. If he was working backstage, that would make sense why you hadn’t seen him before. “And I got to be Rocky for this run. What did you all think of the show?”

“The movie was fun.” Eddie offered, and you had the feeling that he was trying to decide if he should be honest or to let go of what happened four years ago. 

You, however, were more willing to be honest in the moment. “I’ve seen better performances.” you said bluntly. “The movie was fine, but I expected more for the Halloween showing. Half of the shadow cast was completely different than before and they didn’t seem to know their cues. Also, what happened to the Virgin Sacrifice?”

Instead of being off-put, Chris just laughed and shrugged. “There’s been some recent changes to the theater management.” he explained. “It caused a bit of a commotion and there were some disagreements. Unfortunately, things like this happen in live theater. A lot of the cast bailed on the show at the last minute.”

That made sense, as much as it disappointed you. If there was an internal problem with the company running the show, it would end up bleeding out into the performance. You felt your annoyance calm down a little. It’s not like Chis was the one to run the show into the ground. 

“Well, It’s been nice seeing you again.” Eddie said, as his hand slipped into yours again, “We have to get going, it’s getting late.”

You gave Chris a half-hearted wave and a goodbye, but then Chris started talking again right as you two were turning around to leave.

“Just so you know, auditions will be opening for the shadow cast.” He said. “We’re skipping the next two months to get the show back on track. In case either of you are interested.”

You froze in place for a moment and Eddie noticed and dropped your hand. You turned around to look at Chris, wondering if he was being serious right now. 

“Auditions are never open. Even for the understudies.” you said. “I heard that you needed to know someone on the inside to even have a chance at auditioning.”

“Well, we know each other now, don’t we?” he asked with a smile that had too many teeth for your comfort. “I can get you an audition, if you’re really interested. I think you’d be great on stage.” Chris was looking at you up and down, as if considering you. “I can see you as a great Janet.”

“I’ve always wanted to audition.” you finally admitted. “I’ve been wanting to be a part of this show since I started coming here.”

Chris dug into his bag and pulled out a card for the theater, and scribbled down a date and time on the back. “This is when we’re holding auditions. It’s invite only.” he said. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you’re serious.” 

You took the card, looking it over. Maybe you and Eddie had been a little hard on the guy. Chris was right, it had been a long time since he was in high school, and people change. You changed. It’d be pretty hypocritical of you to brush this off completely. Everyone here was an adult, right? And this was something you’d wanted for years now. Could you really just pass this up?

“I’ll be there.” you said, without thinking, and when Chris offered his hand, you reached out and shook it. “Thank you.” you added. 

Chris winked at you and said goodbye to Eddie and turned to leave, leaving you and your date alone outside the theater. By now, almost all of the movie-goers had left and the parking lot was nearly empty save for a few cars. 

“Holy shit.” you said, turning to Eddie when Chris was out of earshot. “I did not expect to run into him tonight. Or ever again.”

Eddie let out a small sharp breath that could have either been a laugh or a sigh. “I thought he just disappeared off the face of the earth when he graduated.” His eyes drifted to the card you held in your hand; the same hand that he had been holding on and off all night. “His hair grew out a lot.”

“Yeah, I think it’s even longer than yours now.” You agreed, tucking away the card into your own bag and turning to fully face him again now.

The mood between you two had shifted from what it had been before Chris interrupted the two of you. Whatever moment the two of you were about to have had passed, and as much as you wanted to kiss Eddie, it wasn’t the time. You didn’t want to force anything after the moment had been ruined. 

Dammit, Chris. Why couldn’t he have shown up before the movie started? Okay, maybe you were still able to feel pissed at the guy. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” Eddie said, and this time you reached out for his hand instead. Chris might have cockblocked your first kiss with Eddie, but you weren’t going to let him completely ruin the night. You didn’t miss the slight squeeze of his hand as you led him towards your car. 

“I know I totally trashed the performance, but I did have a lot of fun with you tonight.” you told Eddie. “Other than him showing up, I really did like spending time with you.”

“Next date, it’s gonna be just us.” he said. “No chaperones and no Chris-es.”

“So, you want to go on another date with me?” you asked, thinking that maybe the moment wasn’t as ruined as you had thought. 

“I’ll call you this weekend.” Eddie promised. 

He leaned in, and you closed your eyes. Warm lips brushed against your cheek, and you tried not to feel too disappointed. It was still something, after all. The two of you hugged, and you breathed in the faint smell of cigarettes, leather, and popcorn. 

“Not if I call you first.” you said, finding that line was starting to be a small inside joke between the two of you. You hoped that there’d be a lot more shared jokes together in the future. 

You got in your car, and made your way home. Despite the small hiccup, you were starting to feel more confident about the future. Things were going well with Eddie, and you finally had the chance to do something you’d had your heart set on for years now. 

Moving forward wasn’t so bad. 

Eddie was torn on how tonight went. You had fun, and you said that you had fun with him. He had been ready to lean in and plant one on you to make this feel more official but then Chris just had to show up and ruin the night. As usual. 

It might not have been as bad if he hadn’t started talking about auditions and that was what made Eddie’s stomach twist. You had been mentioned enough times that this was something you had always wanted to do, and Eddie admired that a lot. He loved that you wanted to be on stage like that, and if you were in the cast he was sure that he’d show up for you, just as you had been showing up for Corroded Coffin. 

But Chris had been the one to make the offer to you with his new muscles and hair that was longer than Eddie’s. Eddie didn’t want to feel jealous, and most of him felt like the two of you had bonded enough over talking shit about the guy that there was no way you’d had an interest in him. 

So why did a smaller voice in the back of Eddie’s head feel like this was starting to crumble already? You had talked about changing and being different since you had been in school, and Chris looked different and had pointed out that he had graduated almost four years ago. 

“You aren’t at Hawkins High and these aren’t children.” you had said when he had been taking in the site of so many people who looked and dressed more like him.

You hadn’t meant anything by it, Eddie was sure of that. You didn’t seem like the type to put someone down for what they were or weren’t able to accomplish. That still didn’t change the fact that he was a 20 year old still in high school, while you and Chris were out in the real world working and living on your own. Presumably. Eddie didn’t know where Chris was living and didn’t care to. 

It was pretty late in the evening now, and he found himself wishing he could call Ronnie right now. Actually, he was starting to wish that he had talked to her earlier, had listened to her and taken her more seriously a few years ago. 

Three more stupid credits and I’m out. That’s what he’d told himself since September when he walked into school for his sixth year in high school. He could coast through most of his classes, and he just needed to push through until June. 

1986. That was going to be his year. He just needed to get through the rest of 1985 first. 

Just as Eddie was about to go and crash in his bed the phone rang. You were the only one who would be calling him this late, and the knot in his stomach only tightened. You hadn’t been judgemental to his face about his education (or lack there-of) but what if it did matter? 

He didn’t think you’d just up and drop him because Chris Morrison of all people showed up with his stupid long hair, offering you something that you wanted so badly. Right? Then again, Eddie hadn’t exactly been the best at communicating with you at all, and he had disappeared on you more than once without notice. Chris hadn’t hesitated with giving you a way to contact him.

Expecting the worst, Eddie tried to remain calm as he reached the kitchen.

“Hey.” Eddie said into the phone, “Get home safe?”

“Eddie?” 

That voice wasn’t yours. The last time Eddie heard that voice, Eddie had been covered in blood and soot in Police Chief Hopper’s office. Her voice had echoed so loud that Hopper had even flinched as she cursed him out for ruining a chance for both of them. 

“Paige?” Eddie asked in disbelief, as if he were talking to a ghost. 

For fuck’s sake, Eddie this isn’t something we can just reschedule I know this was your shot this was my shot I stuck my neck out for you I know I’m at the police station What did you do? No room for a little tarnish, huh? Don’t be an asshole I’ve been an asshole all along, I’m just the last person in Hawkins to accept it Fuck you. 

“I’ve tried calling you a few times but you weren’t home.” Paige said. 

“You could have left a message.” Eddie’s voice was colder than he meant it. First Chris, and now Paige. What sick prank was the universe playing on him today? 

“I figured you wouldn’t call back if I did.” Paige said, honestly. 

The clock in the kitchen read that it was late in Hawkins and not quite as late in California, assuming that is where Paige was. He wanted to hang up the phone, leave her on a dead end line, just as she had done to him almost two years ago. 

Don’t be an asshole. He told himself. What had happened between the two of them had been the perfect shit storm of events. Eddie had flown, reached out towards the sun, only to crash and burn. He had been reminded of what it really meant to have Munson attached to his name.

Eddie had been the one to fuck up, not Paige. 

“I probably wouldn’t have.” Eddie admitted. 

“Are you going to hang up on me now?” 

Eddie paused. “No.”

“Good.”

“You know it’s... really late.”

“I know. I probably should have called you in the morning but I thought it was worth a shot calling tonight. Besides, it’s not like you have school in the morning.” 

He didn’t, but that was only because he was planning on skipping tomorrow because he’d been out so late tonight. 

Eddie’s mind went through a rolodex of anything that Paige Warner would want to talk to him about after all this time. Was she wanting to finally know how he ended up in holding? Had her brother told her about how he was now Freak King Supreme in Hawkins? Shit, did he have an estranged child with her that he didn’t know about? They had always used protection but shit happens and who could blame her from hiding a kid from a guy who she had to bail out of jail and had no money- 

“I’m sorry.” Paige said. “For how things ended between the two of us. A lot happened after you called and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after.”

Eddie blinked and stared at the faded wallpaper of the kitchen, trying to make sense of the apology. She was apologizing? Why?

“I....” Eddie swallowed. “I think I should be the one apologizing here.”

“Oh, you definitely owe me an apology, too.” Despite her words, there was no bite behind it, no malice. “But I’m offering up my apology first as an olive branch.” 

How come ever since that night at the Palace Arcade, everything had started being so weird for Eddie? 

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Eddie asked as he rubbed his face, the evening was starting to catch up to him now. 

“For blowing up at you at 4 am when you needed help.” Paige said. 

“It’s.. It’s fine. I deserved it.” Eddie leaned against the refrigerator and slid down. His gaze drifted up to the popcorn ceiling of the trailer’s kitchen, picking out constellations in the flaky white plaster. 

“Maybe, but I should have heard you out after I had cooled off.” Paige said. 

“So, you’re calling me in the middle of the night two years later just so we can talk about what happened?” Eddie asked. 

“Not completely. I’m calling because I want to give you a second chance.”

“Uhhh.....” Had Eddie heard that correctly? 

“A lot happened with WR Records after you bailed on the audition.” Paige continued. “I don’t want to go into details over the phone, but the short version is Corroded Coffin might have another shot.” 

Oh, it can get weirder. 

“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie sat up straight, gripping the phone with a grip so tight his knuckles were turning white. 

“I’m coming back to Hawkins for a few weeks. I’ll be landing in a few days, and I want to meet up with you to give you more information.” 

Corroded Coffin might have a second chance. Not just Eddie, but his band. When Paige had managed to get Eddie the original audition, she had said that only he would be the one to go to L.A. to play for all the suits in the business. They were only interested in Eddie, not Corroded Coffin. Eddie was real. 

“You mean, my whole band?” he clarified. “Not just me?” 

“Don’t get too excited.” Paige said firmly. “This isn’t nearly as nice of an opportunity as last time. But it is an opportunity. I want to meet up with you alone first to go over the details and explain what’s going on.” 

“Why just me?” 

“Because you’re the selling point, Eddie. You always were.” 

Real. I saw it that night at the Hideout. I saw it years ago at the stupid talent show. You get up there and whatever you play, it’s raw. It’s life or death. And people can feel it.

Had you felt it? Eddie thought back to the two times you had shown up to see him play, you’d looked up at him with an excitement that he’d only ever seen from the rest of his band. Eddie could count on his hands the number of people who he could say were fans of his. Paige had been the first to look at him like he was someone while he was on stage, but she wasn’t the last. 

“When do you land?” Eddie asked. 

“Early Saturday, but I’m spending time with my family for the next few days.” she said. “I’ll call you and let you know when we can meet up.”

“Yeah.. yeah alright. Sounds good.” 

Did it?

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later Eddie. Good night.” 

“Hey, Paige?”

“Yes?”

“...Thanks. For bailing me out back then. I don’t think they would have released me if you hadn’t.” 

“Just don’t do that again, ok?” Paige said. “And you can give me a proper apology when we meet up.” 

Eddie nodded, and then realized he was on the phone and she couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll be there.” he said. 

The dial tone wasn’t as aggressive as it had been that day in Hoppers office, and this time Eddie didn’t slam the phone down on the receiver. Instead he opened up the fridge, stared hard at the six pack of beer, closed the fridge without grabbing one, and went back to his room. He kicked off his shoes, and shrugged off his clothes, and fell face first onto his bed. 

Eddie tried to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours, replaying the events of the night over and over and over again like a bad movie. Seeing you, watching the movie, almost kissing you, Chris showing up, Paige showing up. How could so much happen in the span of less than three hours? 

Paige wanted to talk to him about Corroded Coffin. Eddie was the selling point. There was no way that WR Records was still interested in him, if they were she would have said so and not even brought up the rest of his band.

Shit, what would the rest of the band even say? Only Jeff had been around for the original demo recording that they had all done together. Dougie had left after that year, Ronnie passed her position off to Gareth. 

Face stuffed into his stained pillowcase, he started creating a list of unanswered questions. Why was Paige showing up now? Why was she reaching out to him? Why is she giving Corroded Coffin another shot? Why did Chris have to show up tonight? Could you be attracted to Chris now that he had long hair and wasn’t the scrawny asshole he was in high school? Why did Dustin suggest him to hook you up with? Why did you agree? Why did he care so much that you didn’t remember him? Why did Steve also keep showing up? Why didn’t he kiss you? Wait, did Paige still want to kiss him? Okay, that one at least had to be a no. 

Eddie gave up on sleep when his uncle came home, and heard the faint snoring coming from the pull out couch in the main room. 

With sleep no longer an option for him for the time being, Eddie dug out his notebooks and instead focused on the mountain of song lyrics and notes from over the past few years. With his guitar slung over his shoulder and unplugged, he would be able to work without disturbing Wayne’s sleep. 

Each silent chord and tab that Eddie played whispered through his bedroom. He mouthed along to the words on the pages, his voice occasionally slipping through the cracks as he figured out the rhythm of the lyrics. Playing guitar cleared his head, music always brought everything to the surface one way or another, even if he didn’t realize it. 

As he focused on a specific riff, his fingers and wrist moved over and over in a constant rhythm. Even when he messed up, he didn’t stop the movements of his fingers as they slid along the strings. It was easy, it was challenging, it was meditative. Eddie could finally focus. 

Paige Warner wanted to see him again to discuss Corroded Coffin. Paige was an ex. Sort of. It had been implied that they were going to make it official when he moved to California with her. They were even going to move in together, even if they would have separate rooms. Roommates who sleep together. 

Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t just up and admit that she was an ex girlfriend. Business or not, Eddie was going to have dinner with an ex. 

If he were still the same shitty 18 year old from two years ago, he wouldn’t have thought it was a big deal. Eddie would have had no problem going to see her, and it wouldn’t have even crossed his mind to tell you. But now, as a less shitty 20 year old, he couldn’t do that. You deserved to know who he was going to see if the two of you were going to go on another date. 

He was also going to have to come clean about a lot more than that if things became more serious. That was something that Eddie was dreading. If he told you about Paige, he’d have to tell you about their history together. Telling you that he and Paige had slept together was easy, but what about the rest? How could he explain that she bailed him out of jail after he’d been arrested because a cop was shot on his lawn after two drug mules had burned his house down because Munson and Junior had stolen five pounds of weed from a reefer truck?

Eddie had only told the whole story to one person, and that was Reefer Rick. He hadn’t even had the heart to tell Wayne everything that had happened that Spring out of shame for everything that he’d done. Even Ronnie had been kept in the dark about what happened. 

The sun slowly came up, and his guitar and notebooks were bathed in a warm golden light that contrasted the chill of the beginning of November. Eddie hung his guitar back up and gathered his notebooks, setting them aside for a later time. He laid back down on the bed, and closed his eyes. He decided that the next time the two of you talked, he would be honest about who Paige was and what their main history was. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to dump all of his family trauma on you at once when things were only just starting out. 

It was kind of funny. Eddie had never set out to be anyone's boyfriend. It had never been a priority with him. Even with Paige, he had definitely found her attractive but aside from seeking her out to ask for her help with getting signed, she had been the one to make any move for anything more to happen. He’d been fine with that at the time, but after spending time with you... 

This wouldn’t be easy, but he told himself he wasn’t going to run anymore. When he woke up, he’d call you and tell you exactly what was going on and who he was going to see. Anything about his police record could wait for now. 

With that thought in mind, Eddie was able to finally pass out. 

It was well into the afternoon when Eddie finally woke up again. He pushed through the grogginess and showered, dressed, and shoved a can of instant pasta into his mouth as he flipped through the limited channels on tv. 

About two hours went by before he remembered that you had today off. You’d mentioned that to him during one of your many long phone calls, and he about smacked himself in the head when he realized it. He’d been sitting around and waiting for you to get off work, and you hadn’t even gone in today. 

Eddie held the phone in his hand, his fingers hovering over the dial pad hesitantly before forcing himself to push the digits that would connect the two of you again. 

You answered on the third ring. 

“No Hellfire today?” you asked. 

“Not this time, everyone bailed out early for fall break.” Eddie said. “We did our Halloween special yesterday.”

“Tell me about it?” 

Eddie felt himself nearly melting into a pile of goo at the words. You always asked about his campaigns and his band, taking an interest in a way that no one ever had before. There was a lot that he had to tell you, but.. He could at least give you this before he gave you the real reason why he called. 

You listened as he told you about how the party went up against a pumpkin creature that had been attacking the town. It was a module he had made himself, and that he’d been working on for the past month between the main story of the campaign. You laughed and gasped at all the right moments, sealing the idea that Eddie was going to make a one-shot for you specifically to play. He couldn’t wait to help you make a character and add you to his table. 

Assuming you would even want anything to do with him after what he was about to tell you.

“Sounds like a Scooby Doo episode.” you said, as he finished his tale. 

“More like Goober and the Ghost Chasers.” Eddie smiled, taking his usual seat in front of the fridge. 

The two of you talked, and it was far too easy to get lost in all of the conversations that he had with you. Every time he told himself to suck it up and tell you who he was planning on seeing, you’d ask him something and the two of you would be off on another tangent. 

But then Eddie found his opening, and it was time to talk. 

“I’ll be at the Hideout again next week.” you said. “I’m really looking forward to hearing that song you keep hinting at. How many original songs are you hiding from me?” 

“We have almost seven by now, but no one wants to hear them.” Eddie lied, knowing full well there had been at least one person before who did. 

“I want to.” 

Two people. 

Fuck, he needed to tell you. 

“So... speaking of Corroded Coffin,” he said carefully. “We actually almost had a chance to audition for WR Records.”

“Hole shit.” you gasped into the phone. “What happened? I would have thought any record company would be tearing down the door to get you to sign with them. Or, oh, were they too mainstream? Did they want you to sell out? Change everything about you? Did you tell them to shove it, and that you wanted to make real music?” 

Eddie couldn’t help but snort into the phone, suppressing a laugh. “Nah, we uh... well we made a demo tape and sent it in, and they wanted us- me. They wanted me to audition.”

“Just you...?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picked at a loose fray in the tear in his jeans. “They didn’t really like Corroded Coffin, but they did like me. But I blew my chance, and never made it to the audition.”

“Shit, Eddie... that sucks.” you said sympathetically. “What happened?” 

Eddie was quiet for a moment as he tried to figure out how to explain to you what happened.

“Eddie?” you asked after he didn’t say anything. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to get into it.”

“I fucked up.” He finally admitted. “I did something stupid, and it stopped me from making it to California for the audition. That was two years ago. And last night I just got news that Corroded Coffin might be having another shot at something.”

“Wait really? That’s incredible that they still want to talk to you! And you said it was for the whole band this time? Not just you?”

“I don’t think it’s WR Records this time but a talent scout found me and is wanting to talk about Corroded Coffin?”

“There was a talent scout at the Hideout?”

“No.... my uh.. My ex.” 

The silence between the two of you was deafening. For a few seconds, the world went completely still, and silent. Eddie always hated silence. 

“Oh.” you said after a while, and Eddie could tell you were trying to process what he had just said. “So your ex wants to talk to you about your band?”

Your voice sounded neutral, almost too casual, and Eddie hated that too. “She- Paige- she was the one to give Corroded Coffin a chance. She paid for the demo herself, sent it to her boss, and got the audition slot for me. But I fucked up, ended up locked up for a few hours, and everything fell apart.”

Eddie wished that he could see your face, would you look at him with sympathy? Disgust? Would you suddenly look at him like everyone else in town? 

“That sounds like a lot.” You said. 

“Not gonna ask me what I was in for?” 

“Do you want to tell me?”

“...Not yet.”

“Are you on some sort of list?”

“No.”

“Did you kill someone?” 

“I don’t think I’d be let out if I did.”

“Good point. Alright. Then I’ll trust you that you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Trust. You trusted him. When was the last time he had anyones trust?

“Paige wants to give Corroded Coffin another chance.” Eddie said. “She wants me to meet up with her to give me details. I don’t know what she’s planning on offering but-”

“She bailed you out of jail and is offering you something you always wanted?” You asked, and he could hear something in your voice that sounded almost like defeat. “You should go. It’s clear that the two of you have a history that you two need to work though. And if she’s offering you and Corroded Coffin a chance, you have to take it, right?”

The way you said ‘right’ made him wonder if you were asking something more than just his current situation. 

Why was it that every time you two started to find your footing together, things slipped up? How could things constantly be so weird with you when this should have felt easy? What force in the universe out there kept dangling good things in front of Eddie just to take them away as a cruel joke? 

“Right.” Eddie said, sounding just about as sure as he felt about this. He didn’t even know what this was. 

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it sounds like it’s complicated and you two need to talk about it.” you said. “Just let me know what’s going on after, okay?” 

Eddie knew what you really meant. Let me know if this is going anywhere or if you’re going to get back with your ex.

That was a thought he didn’t even want to entertain. It already seemed to be impossible that Paige wanted to talk to him again, let alone date again. 

“I will.” He would. “I’ll let you know when we’re meeting up and what she says.” 

“I have my audition next Saturday.” you added. “And Robin and Steve and I are going to have a movie night later this week to hang out. But, I’ll still be at the Hideout if you all are still playing and not signed by then.”

You were joking with him, and he took that as a sign that maybe he didn’t completely fuck up.

“We’ll be there.” Eddie said. “I guess I’ll see you Tuesday then.”

“See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 

With the phone hook back on the receiver, Eddie took a deep breath. 

Just when things are starting to get good, huh?

a/n:

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Hemispherical Combustion Chambers Weren't Just a Gimmick: The Chrysler Hemi engine is renowned for its hemispherical combustion chambers, which provide an efficient shape with an excellent surface-to-volume ratio and minimal heat loss.

Three Generations: There have been three generations of Hemi engines: the FirePower series (1951-1958), the legendary 426 Hemi (1964-1971), and the modern Hemis (2003-2024).

FirePower Series: The first-generation Hemi, known as the FirePower series, had displacements ranging from 241 to 392 cubic inches and was produced from 1951 to 1958.

426 Hemi Nickname: The 426 Hemi, produced from 1964 to 1971, earned the nickname "elephant engine" due to its large size and heavy weight.

426 Hemi Power: The 426 Hemi was rated at 425 horsepower and 490 lb-ft of torque, although actual dynamometer testing showed it could produce even more.

Racing Heritage: The 426 Hemi was initially developed for NASCAR racing and made its debut in the Plymouth Belvedere in 1964.

Street Hemi: Chrysler introduced the "Street Hemi" in 1966, making the powerful 426 Hemi available to the general public in various Dodge and Plymouth models.

426 Hemi in Drag Racing: The 426 Hemi dominated NHRA and AHRA drag racing, with its large casting allowing it to be overbored and stroked to displacements unattainable by other engines of the era.

426 Hemi in Iconic Cars: The 426 Hemi was used in some of the most iconic muscle cars, including the 1970 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda, the Dodge Charger Daytona, and the Plymouth Superbird.

High Compression: The 426 Hemi had a high compression ratio of 10.25:1 in the street version and 12.5:1 in the racing version, requiring high-octane fuel to avoid pre-ignition.

Dual Four-Barrel Carburetors: The 426 Hemi featured dual inline four-barrel Carter AFB carburetors, contributing to its high power output.

Advanced Rocker Arm Geometry: The Hemi engine's complex valve train and large, wide cylinder heads required advanced rocker arm geometry, making it more expensive and challenging to build.

Military Origins: Chrysler's experience with hemispherical combustion chambers began with their development of the XIV-2220 engine for the P-47 Thunderbolt fighter aircraft during World War II.

M47 Patton Tank: Chrysler also used hemispherical combustion chamber technology in the air-cooled AV-1790-5B V12 Hemi engine for the M47 Patton tank.

Modern Hemi Engines: The third-generation Hemi engines, produced from 2003 to 2024, featured advanced technologies and displacements between 5.7 and 6.4 liters, continuing the legacy of high performance.

[v-eight-lover]

'16 Cape Advanced Vehicles GT40, Roush 5.7 liter, 6 speed

[probablyasocialecologist]

Operating an SY [Superyacht] is expensive and ecologically damaging. On average, an SY over 71 meters/233 feet uses 500 liters/132 gallons of gasoline an hour, and annual fuel costs for an average SY are around $400,000. From available data, we estimated that an average (71 meter) SY uses about 107,000 gallons gasoline/year and produces 2.1 million pounds of carbon dioxide emissions annually. Thus, the fleet of 300 SY produces approximately 627 million pounds of carbon dioxide emissions a year. That very large figure needs to be placed in context. To do so, we compare the carbon and gasoline footprint of Sys owned by the wealthy to the average vehicle—a more affordable mode of transportation for the average person operated in the United States. An average new car gets 25.5 miles per gallon (mpg) in the United States. According to the U.S. Department of Transportation, an average person drives about 13,476 miles, using 528.5 gallons of gas, and generates 10,358.6 pounds of CO2 pollution annually. Thus, one average SY produces as much CO2 pollution as 202 average cars, and, annually, the SY fleet (N = 300) uses as much gasoline as 60,600 cars that get 25.5 mpg. Another way to illustrate the annual ecological harm caused by SY is to compare the CO2 emissions from the 300 largest SY to the CO2 emissions of entire nations. The SY fleet carbon emissions (nearly 630 million pounds), for example, is similar to the emissions of the 10.6 million inhabitants of Burundi (654.02 million pounds), and 5.7 times larger than the carbon footprint (111,556,039 pounds) of the small (36,157 inhabitants) developed nation of Liechtenstein. Thus, the carbon footprint of the global SY fleet of the wealthy produces as much ecological disorganization as entire nations of people.

Measuring the Ecological Impact of the Wealthy: Excessive Consumption, Ecological Disorganization, Green Crime, and Justice

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon Riley x Fem!reader - call sign 'Maverick'

Fandom: Call of Duty

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" Mactavish, Captain John Price

Word count: 5.7 k

Summary: You and Ghost have always gotten through missions by keeping in constant radio contact when possible. On one fateful mission, he sends out the call but there is no reply. Only silence. As time goes on his greatest fear is realized and all that he knew is now turned on it's head. What happens when reality hits all at once? And what does it do to the once stoic man who is no stranger to death?

Warnings: Death, death of a lover, mentions of thoughts of suicide, grief, explicit language, heavy topics relating to death and loss.

MDNI

"How copy?”

The signal went out over comms the same as Ghost had done so many times before, calling out to you over the receiver to close the distance between you both, a literal lifeline directly to you, until he could be next to you again. Instead of being met with your bright, sparkling voice answering his call, there was nothing except the steady buzz of electricity in his ears and the complete radio silence that awaiting him at the other end of the line.

Again he held down the mic button, his clothed lips close to the mouthpiece of his headset as he sent out the call to you once more. Of course there were times when he had to send out the call for you more than once, but something about this specific time hung ominous in the air around him. The hair on his arms stood up as if he were cold, but that wasn’t possible given the climate he was in.

“Come in Maverick, I repeat, how copy?”

Again he released the button to wait for your answer and again there was nothing except the crushing silence to greet him. It felt strange as if he had slipped into a dream at some point and yet he could feel the weight of his rifle in his hand and the gear on his shoulders. 

A third time the call went out and when still now answer came, desperation began to spread out through his chest cavity, coursing through his veins like an aggressive cancer to eat away at him. Why weren’t you answering him when he had just heard your voice not even 20 minutes ago? He heard you say it, Intel was secure and your half of the team was fixing to head out. He would see you in a few minutes when you joined him at the edge of the facilities property and then it was on to extraction. Now there was nothing. Why was there nothing?

Nothing.

You were no stranger to how anxious the man behind the mask could get when you both were on mission and to keep those fears at bay would always make certain to meet his call with your reply as quick as you could. So, where were you now when everything was supposed to be fine? His mind raced with an infinite amount of possibilities as the minutes ticked on in agonizing fashion until that familiar click was heard over his headset and he felt like he could breath easy once more. 

Finally, he though to himself with a nervous laugh at how silly he was acting. Took her long enough. I know she’ll be apologizing for days with that one.

“Bravo 0-7, come in. This is Bravo 7-1. Maverick…uh she’s… she’s…” 

It was Johnny’s voice that flooded through your headset, not yours, which caught Ghost completely off guard. Why the fuck was he answering for you and why did he sound so goddamn distraught and out of breath? That wasn’t the person he had been asking for and it angered him to think that he would take your headset away from you so you couldn’t reply. 

“What the hell Johnny, where is she? Let me speak to her,” Ghost argued heated and on edge through the microphone. Silence again was all he got; why the fuck was there so much goddamn silence when his world was usually so chaotically loud? Somewhere deep in his bones Ghost already knew… he knew what was happening in real time over the radio, though his heart pleaded with his mind to not let him understand yet. Just leave him stuck in limbo until the last possible second to hold off the pain.

Even though he was a man of very few words himself, this type of quiet was killing him to endure. “What the fuck is going on. Answer me!” Ghost yelled desperately through the headset.

“Maverick went down…” he heard, followed by a break where static cut in and then “…is K.I.A. L.T., she’s gone.”

No, no, that didn’t sound right. He had just heard your voice and you had been fine, why was Johnny lying to him like this? Or was it some sort of cruel joke that he had decided to play at the last second as they neared the meeting point? The Scot was known to make a few silly digs at him over the years, but this was far from his sense of humor; the mission was over, there was nothing left that could go wrong. No, maybe Ghost had just misheard. Yes, that had to be it; he had misheard because of the signal drop.

“Repeat,” he demanded forcefully into the mic.

“L.T…” It was hard enough for Soap to say the words the first time, but being yelled at to repeat them was too intense for what had just happened.

“I said repeat goddammit or let me speak to her,” Ghost cut him off with a sharp and point explosion of anger. His hands that were usually incredibly steady began to tremble around his gun and the transmission box as he waited to hear Soap’s voice come through once again.

More static for a few seconds as Soap tried his hardest to gather himself enough to quickly explain what had happened as concisely as he could. The seasoned Sargent had just witnessed something horrific, the blood was still wet upon his chest, and it was a lot to have to comprehend in such a short amount of time, yet he knew it would be even worse for the one currently yelling in his ear. Everyone was still in the field, they needed to get back to safety first before more could be explained, but he couldn’t lie to the lieutenant, not when it came to you. He would be waiting for your return and it would never happen now.

“I understand… it all happened so fast. We weren’t as safe as we thought, got surrounded faster than we could react. Maverick was in the lead and got caught in the crossfire. She went down; we couldn’t save her.”

“What… wha-” Ghost said over and over again as the neurons misfiring in his brain would not let him make complete sentences.

 

“We will be headed to your location shortly, stay put till we arr-”

Fuck these lies, Ghost wouldn’t listen to another word come out of Soap’s mouth. Without another sound Ghost’s comm was instantly shut off, isolating him from the rest of his little world as his heartbeat slammed to a stop dead in his chest. He threw down his gun and ripped the headset off his ears, pulling the transmission box off his belt with such rage. Throwing everything to the ground beside him he got on his hands and knees and began to demolish that fucking ridiculous piece of equipment with his bare hands as if it’s destruction could somehow undo what he had just been forced to hear.

Please, he begged silently as his breathing quickened on the verge of a panic attack. Please don’t do this, not again. Don’t fucking leave me alone again.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be; you were supposed to reach extraction with the others of 141 and the both of you would head back to base together, a bottle of beer and a glass of whiskey at the local bar with your names on it waiting for you later after debrief. He was supposed to see your smiling face staring back at him during transport just as he had seen so many fucking times before and he was going to take your hand into his to give a squeeze, just to make sure you were really there beside him safe and sound like always.

And now that wasn’t going to happen? How? It was routine at this point how the end of a mission would go; he couldn’t count how many times the same had happened whether it was a success or not. So why was this time different? He simply could not understand. 

Ghost’s calloused and cold fingers dug into his chest, trying to rip out the organ currently dying in its house, but they barely managed to scratch the surface of the tactical gear covering him. His head was getting fuzzy when he became conscious that his lungs felt far too empty. Wasn’t breathing supposed to be involuntary? He couldn’t recall as the air seemed to not penetrate deep enough into his lungs to get him that vital element he so desperately needed right now. 

Gone. They said you were gone.

No, no, no, you couldn’t be gone. You were just here, living and breathing and laughing, and now suddenly your flame was snuffed out just like that? That didn’t make any logical sense to him, that something so precious could be here and then gone without a trace without the entire world taking notice of the absence. No, you were still out there, he could feel it as if any second you would appear before him. How could you just cease to exist in the blink of an eye? 

Regret wormed its way to the surface now. So many things he had taken for granted even as he was grateful they were happening, thinking there would be more time later to truly revel in their importance to him. So many little moments shared just between you both that he did not treasure as hard as he should have because he did not know they would be his last with the one person that gave his life so much more meaning. How was he meant to reconcile that with himself, how much he took for granted? He needed more time to cherish. Please, he needed more time.

This wasn’t right, any of it. If anyone deserved to be killed it was him, not you. Never you. But that was the reality of life, wasn’t it? Not everything was fare and when it came to Simon Riley, it never would be. You had become the light in his dark, the pillar steadfast against his chaos, you respected and loved him through it all and did it with a grace he had never known. What right had death to take such a vibrant and brilliant human being?

Wet. Why am I wet?

His face was suddenly wet underneath his mask. When had he started crying? Heavy and engorged tears filled with all the rage and desolation he felt in that moment fell from the rims of his eyes, some burning his lips while others tumbled out of the eye holes in his mask towards the ground to salt the earth at his feet. That wasn’t right either. Crying was not something he did; he was supposed to be the emotionless monster that did what needed to be done, but this was too heavy a burden to hold off that explosion of misery threatening to end him right then and there. And the dam broke with such force it made his body writhe in pain.

He would have rather been stabbed, shot in the back, disemboweled or worse than to feel a part of his soul wither away and die in that split second it took Soap to tell him you weren’t going to be coming back. Shaking his head, he turned his vision upward towards the sky above.

“You can’t have her,” he whispered under his breath through gritted teeth and clenched fists to the air around him, speaking his desperate threat to unseen ears.

The man had not spoken to God since he was a small child, when he still clung to the hope that maybe a higher power could intervene and save him from his horrendous situation if only he asked hard enough. He had not thought about religion in years or the lies it purported, but right now he could not stop himself from calling upon the deity that he no longer believed in once more to threaten him over taking you.

“You can’t fucking have her,” he repeated louder this time as his fists balled themselves up even tighter until his nail cut into the flesh of his palms.

He would threaten the entire universe if he could undo what fate had already declared reality, he would fight every goddamn star in the sky to turn back the clock so that you would still be here and he could find a way to save you, but he knew there was no undoing this and that was the cruelest of it all.

“You can’t just fucking take her!!” he roared as the first of his fists made contact with the ground, kicking up the dirt and rocks and small pieces of organic debris. Over and over again he beat his anger into the turf until his knuckles were ripped to shreds and covered in a thick spattering of blood covered his hands. Still, he did not let up as the physical pain was nothing compared to the immense pain of his loss; he had to do something to take the edge off.

“GODDAMMIT!” he screamed at the top of his lungs with enough force to shake the foundations of the earth with the power of his anger. 

Still in the field he wasn’t safe, but he didn’t care. If the enemy found him now and decided to end him, it would be a mercy to his defeated soul. His chaotic and hopeless mind was forced to race with images that made his stomach turn: you quickly bleeding out, tears swimming in your eyes as you wondered where he was with his name on your cracked lips, choking on your own blood as it filled your mouth, your body cold with a chill that would not leave until you closed your eyes. There was no knowing what happened in those precious moments he had not spoken to you, still the images played over and over in his mind’s eye until he had to clamp his mouth shut to stop himself from being sick as he wretched several times.

It was Ghost that had killed you, that had to be it. Something he did or didn’t do that directly led to your luck finally running out and leading you straight to your death. That had to be it, he had to be responsible otherwise why wouldn’t you be here while he was? Maybe if he simply left you alone even as his heart was drawn to yours, maybe you would have been spared such a cruel and unjust fate. 

The mask around his face felt suffocating and blindly he ripped it off, unable to look at it as he threw it away. The persona that was Ghost had been a necessary evil for him during a time when he had nothing and his very creation had saved Simon in some sick and twisted way, but all that felt like such bullshit as his alter did nothing that could save you and right now it just disgusted him to even look at what was once a bandage on a gaping wound. There he sat in a crumpled heap no longer the stoic killer with an icy heart to match, but simply a broken and beaten Simon who had lost everything sacred to him yet again. 

“I still need her,” he sobbed with eyes closed tight as his entire body shook violently.  “Why did you take her from me? Why couldn’t I have this one thing?”

That night at the bar was supposed to be when he finally struck up enough courage to say those 3 stupid words that had been sitting at the back of his throat in one way or another since the day you both met and yet he had not had the strength to say until now. You had broken down his walls, the ones he never thought anyone would ever cross, and you did it all with immense patience and kindness. And he had finally realized that he could be vulnerable with you, that he wanted to be, to take that next step in your relationship that would hopefully lead to something even more wonderful. 

There had been such secret desires that maybe one day you both would leave this life behind and perhaps there would be a small flat back in England with your names on it. A quiet life after so much death; a life with the possibility of maybe little one with blonde hair and your eyes if you both decided to go on that journey together, but now all of that was gone. That wishful dream was stolen from him before he ever had a chance to experience any of it and so only a dream it would remain. 

There was nothing left for him anywhere now, not if you were gone. Everything that had ever mattered to him had slipped through his fingers no matter how desperately he clung to it, no matter how much his nails dug into it, and now you had been added to that long list of casualties. It was exhausting to have everything gentle and kind in his life ripped from him constantly and he could not take anymore. You were the last piece that tied him to this god-forsaken world. 

How could he be forced to go on now?

The members of Taskforce 141 had congregated at the meeting point and yet stood back from their broken comrade, unsure what to do for the grief consuming him in that moment. Simon’s back faced them, but the way he was hunched upon the ground with his shoulders convulsing violently as the sounds of his wails penetrated through the air was too much. They needed to get him to come with them, they needed to get out of there before more harm could be done to their group, but what do you say to someone whose entire world just crumbled in an instant? None of them had seen Simon fall apart like this, where he did not care who saw him break, and watching such a strong, steadfast man fall apart so thoroughly shook them all to their cores.

Captain Price, guilt weighing on his head from allowing one of his own to be killed, heard someone clear their throat and he turned his head. Soap stared back at him silently, his eyes stern as if to say that he would go to him first and Price nodded his head in agreement. Taking the first steps forward, the Sargent did not know what he was going to do or say, but he knew that you would not want Simon left behind and he would do whatever it took to get him to come back with them.

Noise. Footsteps were approaching.

“L.T.,” Soap called out to him as to not startle the already vulnerable man falling apart upon the ground, his back turned away to conceal his face.

“Don’t,” Simon spat with rage, “Whatever the fuck you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it. Get to extraction and leave me be. This is over.”

Soap took a few more steps forward until he was just off his left shoulder, still enough distance between them as to not put more undue stress on Simon. “No,” he said firmly. The response was sort and to the point, but conveyed enough. Reaching towards him, he rested a hand on Simon’s shoulder, but immediately he wrenched it away.

“Don’t you dare. I said go, get out of here,” more fury, more rage behind Simon’s words. “Take the others and get back to base. I am not leaving.”

Soap had already watched one comrade fall before his very eyes, held them as they took their last breaths, he wasn’t about to leave this fucking wasteland without anyone else. There had been enough gut-wrenching death for a lifetime and no matter what Ghost would be getting on the heli with the rest of them; whatever the Sargent needed to do to help him get there, he would.

“We aren’t going without you,” Soap said gently. “We aren’t leaving anyone behind.”

That was goddamn lie and it wounded Simon even more to hear it. How the hell could he say that when the group would be permanently one short forever? “You’re leaving her,” he yelled in Soap’s face as he finally face him, his eye black streaming down his cheeks. The misery was plastered across his face and it made Soap shiver to see it. “She is out there and will never be coming back, so don’t stand there and say shit like that. I am not going back, not without her.”

Soap cleared his throat, holding back the tears welling in his eyes; they don’t prepare you for this part in all that fucking training. “Sir, listen, we have her,” he stated with a quiver in his voice.  “We’re gonna bring her back, so we really need to go, now.”

They had taken your body with them, that was good. You deserved a proper burial, not to be left on some war-torn battlefield as a casualty to be picked up later or worse. Still, even with the news that you would be brought back with them, Simon still didn’t move from his spot. He had already died right there even if his body was still moving and he did not want to go.

“I deserve to be left here,” he said with such sadness in his tone as he turned his face away in shame. “I deserve to rot right here in this fucking spot. Why the hell am I here and she isn’t? No, I should die here to set it right.” 

Soap knelt down beside his friend, getting down to his level to meet him where he was in his grief. “You and I both know that she would never want that.”

Fuck Simon wanted to scream at Soap to shut his fucking mouth, that he did not know you as intimately as that, but that wouldn’t have been true at all. Everyone knew the type of person you were; there was no hiding your caring and big-hearted nature.  He was hurt because Simon knew Soap was completely right. If you could have spoken to him in that moment he knew exactly what you would have said: to please stay safe, get back to base, that he had to be okay for your sake. You would beg and plead with him to go on and leave you, that it would be fine, and to do anything less would be a disservice to your memory. That’s what you did; no matter the circumstances, your only concern was to think of him.

He knew he needed to go, but he couldn’t; his body felt like lead and it would not let him get up. So many times he had begged for death, thought about taking it in his own hands, and just as all those times right now it overwhelmed him with the feeling again. Whatever it was that he had done to deserve all this hell, he should be punished for it as another innocent life had been caught in his disaster once more. 

“I can’t do it,” Simon breathed out the laboured words. “I can’t do this alone. If I go, she’ll really be dead and I can’t fucking do that.”

“You won’t,” the familiar voice of his Captain said behind him suddenly. “We’re here with you Simon. All of us.”

His brothers in arms rallied around him in support as Price and Soap each took one of Simon’s muscular arms and helped him to his feet. To be shown so much care felt wrong in that moment, as Simon felt he did not deserve an ounce of it. 

“Look at me Lieutenant,” Price said and Simon did as instructed. “I know this is hard, but I need your help to get her back to base. I don’t want to leave her behind, so I will need everyone with me on this and that includes you. If we get ambushed again, we will need all the firepower we can get. Can you do that soldier? Can you provide support while we carry her back with us?”

Price knew it was the dutiful soldier in Simon’s nature to follow the orders he gave him and that would be the only way to get him out of here alive. So he did what needed to be done so to ensure that no one else had to die today, not under his leadership.

Simon nodded in agreement and Soap handed him back his gun which he took tentatively into his hands. The feeling of the hard steel in his strong grip helped to ground him enough that he could feel his body again to move. 

It took every ounce of his strength to maneuver his legs one after the other, to head back to a life where you would no longer be. As long as he stayed there in the field, he could convince himself that nothing was real, but the minute he got on that plane back to base there would be no more delusions he could concoct to hide away from the truth. So he shut his mind off and allowed his body to move on autopilot, following closely beside Soap until they were finally at extraction and on the plane back.

He took his seat, not looking anywhere as they finished loading everything and took off. The tears had dried and crusted to his cheeks for the moment as he sat silently dissociating on the ride back and yet the black hole in the center of his chest continued to grow exponentially as he stared blankly at his hands. Those hands that had held you close, that had known the feeling of your skin beneath them, now they had nothing to hold so lovingly anymore within them.  

It wasn’t until they respectfully pulled that amorphous bag out of the heli with your body inside that he lost it all over again. For almost a split second he had forgotten that it was there with them and seeing it real before him threw him right back into reality. Where was his goddamn cold heart when he needed it most? Right now, he felt every single solitary raw bit of sorrow and it was all too much after holding back for so fucking long. But that was a part of the magic you always seemed to possess, wasn’t it? You brought a man back from the dead and that meant this was how it had to be; he would have to feel it all.

They laid your body in a private room in the infirmary where Simon could sit with you while they made preparations for what came next. Price himself made absolutely sure that no one would disturb Simon until he was ready, threatening harsh punishments if anyone went against his order to leave this room and the man sitting inside it alone as long as need be. This was his time and he would have it for as long as he needed, screw everything else. That was the least the Captain could do.

Simon’s body felt cold and numb as a second cigarette sat lodged between his first two fingers, occasionally being brought to his lips in long, drawn out pulls as he stared at the door to the infirmary. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to do it, actually go in, and he hoped that the nicotine would dull the ache in his chest enough that he could step through those doors and make it to you.

As he entered that room designated for you, it felt like entering a crypt with how ungodly quiet and still it was. Your body was placed upon a gurney against one wall towards the back of the room, only a sheet concealing you from the rest of the world until they could lock you away in that wooden box. A chair was placed near just for him and it took him half an hour of pacing around the room before he was able to sit in it without his rapid breathing leaving him on the verge of another panic attack. 

It was too painful to pull the covering down to reveal your face; he couldn’t bring himself to look into it and see nothing of the lively woman you used to be. He knew how hard it was to look on someone you cared about after they were gone, how they looked unnatural like a doll staged as a human. But your hand was close underneath the sheet and the need to feel your touch just one last time overtook him to where he ended up reaching for it.

Simon slowly took your hand from out under the sheet and into his own: it was cold and clammy and foreign. There was no pulse, no movement whatsoever along the surface, and it disturbed him to his core to feel and yet he still held on tightly. He kept holding his breath as he waited for you to give his hand a loving squeeze and each second that passed where you didn’t just sent him further into despair. 

What should he say? Should he say anything? It really didn’t matter did it, since you weren’t even here to hear it? But he couldn’t just sit there beside you, someone who had held his battered and bruised heart with loving hands, not caring if it bled all over you, and just not speak all that was weighing on him. So, he started at the beginning of all that grief.  

“I’m sorry,” he said aloud finally to the crushing silence not just in the room, but inside of himself as well. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you; I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

He laced his large fingers in the empty spaces between your own, entwining them completely even as yours hung limply against his palm. Your hand looked so tiny in his, so fragile against his scared knuckles still covered in red from what he had done to them. As he stared down at your slender fingers all he could think about is what they wouldn’t do anymore. Those gentle fingertips would never trace the lines of his scars with such care, as if each one deserved to be loved; they would never again caress his cheek before you kissed him, letting him know he was safe in your embrace; he’d never feel them against his chest as you held him while you both slept, his back against your chest as you clung to him tight to make him feel safe after another nightmare.  

And that was just one singular thing on you that he would miss. So many pieces of you held so many memories and cherished sensations that he had not realized until the moment how hard to would be to no longer experience them again. How cruel is it that you never know the true magnitude another life has on your own until it is no longer there? Now he would have to remember the impact you had on his life longer than he would get to enjoy it.

“I wish I would have taken you from all this sooner,” he whispered to your body as his thumb stroked the back of your hand tenderly. “Maybe if I would have you would still be here. So much I should have fucking said, so much more I should have done, but I let the fear get me and it ruined everything. I could have stopped this just by giving you the life you deserved, the one I knew you waited patiently to have with me one day.”

Simon swallowed back down the bile rising from his stomach. His whole life had been tainted with death in some way and he had began to think that maybe you would be spared from it if only he took things slow, that it would keep the grim reaper at bay for longer and give you both more time. Yet here you were; fate still took you anyway and he had not gotten to live the life he truly wanted with you. That only left him with overwhelming regret.

“You changed everything for me, you know that?” the words were choked out through the welling of emotion caught in his throat. “I was a goddamn corpse before you came along and for the first time in a long, long time I began to feel alive again. I know it took some time for me to warm up to ya, but that was only because I couldn’t believe a person as fucking wonderful as you was even real. You were the reason I was still hanging on and fuck…I hope you knew how much it meant to me to have you. You were probably the closet thing to a miracle that I’ll ever get and I am going to miss you until the day I die.”

His body shook uncontrollably with grief, shoulders hunched forward as he held on to your hand for dear life. “There will never be another like you, luv. No one could ever make all the shit I went through seem even remotely worth it because in the end it led me to meeting you. What the hell did I do to deserve the chance to be cared for by someone so fucking amazing? I don’t know, but damn am I grateful to even have had this much time with you.”  

Taking your hand up to his mouth, he placed it to his lips. It didn’t even belong to you anymore and yet it was all of you that he had left now. “I love you,” his lips imprinted those special words upon your skin. “Wherever you are, I hope you hear me say it cause I know it’s been a long time coming. I love you and I always will.”

He gave your hand another long kiss before he silently tucked your arm back under the sheet that separated life from death and hurried from the room without turning back again; you may have been the one that died, but he was the ghost who was now haunted by what could have been.

And Simon did not know in that moment if he could continue to live with that.

[nerd-cat-rambles]

Tierlist!

My Danganronpa Opinion Tier-list (With rankings, EX./10 and reasons why they're ranked that way below.) (I've only played the first two games, so the V3 ones might not be accurate.)

SOME SPOILERS AHEAD

FAVOURITES:

Kiyotaka Ishimaru - AMAZING CHARACTER, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, LITERALLY KIN HIM SO MUCH, love the VA, hated his death and trial. - 10/10

Mondo Owada - He's also the best, I love his design, his character, his VA, his motive, his trial, his execution was kinda.... BUT I STILL LOVE MONDO - 10/10

Sonia Nevermind - She's so funny and her ftes are great! So good and love her in trials. Great VA, sondam is awesome. - 9/10

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu - Great Ch.Development after chp2 love him so much. - 9/10

Gundham Tanaka - I love him SO MUCH he's amazing and funny and his execution made me cry alot. Sondam for life - 9/10

I just realised Ishida wasn't on this list but Jill/Syo was, so I'm putting him below:

#. Kiyondo Ishida - Literally an icon. Wished he was in a trial with Syo. 8.8/10

Love:

6. Sayaka Maizono - I used to hate her lol, love this queen. - 8.7/10

7. Mikan Tsumiki - I might get hate for this one... - 8.5/10

8. Sakura Ogami - A sweetheart and a hero - 8.3/10

9. Chihiro Fujisaki - He's so cute I wanna pat him on the head - 8.3/10

10. Akane Owari - Underrated, love her. - 8/10

11. Hajime Hinata - Best Protag - 7.9/10

12. Kaito Momota - He believes in Gonta - 7.8/10

13. Shuichi Saihara - Pretty cool ngl I like him :3 - 7.8/10

14. Ryoma Hoshi - Underrated like Akane - 7.7/10

Like/Love:

15. Chiaki Nanami - Her FTEs are cute. Noble character. Love her. - 7.6/10

16. Nagito Komaeda - A TINY bit overrated but I still love him - 7.5/10

17. Aoi Asahina - Relatable Queen - 7.4/10

18. Genocider Syo/Jill - She's much funnier than Toko tbh. - 7.4/10

19. Byakuaya Togami - Why did I put him next to Syo lol - 7.3/10

20. Kazuichi Souda - Shark guy. Funny. He's pretty good :) - 7.2/10

21. Peko Pekoyama - Sweet character, AMAZING EXECUTION - 7.1/10

22. Nekomaru Nidai - SO UNDERRATED - 7/10

23. Kaede Akamatsu - Probably would put higher if I had played V3 - 7/10

24. Gonta Gokuhara - Super nice and sweet :) - 7/10

25. K1-B0 (Keebo) - He's actually a cutie patootie - 7/10

Like:

26. Makoto Naegi - THE CUTIE PATOOTIE - 6.9/10

27. Kyoko Kirigiri - Nice, but I couldn't love her character like everybody else tbh- - 6.8/10

28. Leon Kuwata - Chill dude, him and Ibuki probs good friends. - 6.7

29. Kokichi Ouma - He's pretty cool, good VA, cooked in his trial. - 6.7

30. Ibuki Mioda - Funny, sweet, a tiny bit overrated. My mum called her a furry once- - 6.5

31. Monokuma - How can you not like the mascot y'all- - 6.4 bc he killed my faves :,)

32. Rantaro Amami - He's cool, but idk him well. Wish we got to see his character more. - 6.3

33. Korekiyo Shinguji - Chill guy, interesting, weird subplot. - 6.2

34. Himiko Yumeno - Overhated tbh, cute, nice, cries a bit too much. - 6.1/10

35. Maki Harukawa - Not a big fan of the quiet brooding ch. but Idk her well so I won't judge too much. :) - 6/10

Neutrual - Like:

36. Celestia Ludenburg - She's pretty cool, trash motive, lied about Taka. That's the reason she isn't higher. 5.9/10

37. Toko Fukawa - A bit creepy, weird, but I still like her. Glad she survived tho tbh. - 5.8/10

38. Tenko Chabashira - Idk her charcater, I just know her "degenerate male" thingy, which is... interesting... no hate tho - 5.7/10

39. Mukuro Ikusaba - Wish she was in THH longer! OMG FAKE-JUNKO WAS SO COOL! Didn't see enough of her to rate higher. - 5.6/10

40. Izuru Kamakura - Cool concept, overrated tho- 5.5/10

41. Junko Enoshima - Cool ch. shit motive. Killed my faves- 5.3/10

42. Imposter/"Byakuya" - Good in SDR2 but didn't see enough of him :( - 5.2/10

43. Usami/Monomi - Cute mascot but I skipped her ALL of her dialogue because she annoyed TF out of me. - 5.1/10

44. Tsumugi Shirogane - GREAT VA but, I kinda don't know what to think about her. - 5.1/10

Neutral:

45. Yasuhiro Hagakure - A bit of a silly-billy, I dunno how he survived. He's closer to like than dislike tho. 5/10

46. Kirumi Tojo - She has the same VA as Hiyoko. HOW. Anyways, talented VA, cool execution, wish we got to see more of her tho. 5/10

47. Monodam - Apparently not as bad at the other ones? Byakuyas VA- 5/10

Neutral-Dislike:

48. Angie Yonaga - PRETTY DESIGN, GREAT VA, still not sure about her tho tbh... 4.6/10

49. Mahiru Koizumi - Boring, annoying, complains alot tbh, had great potential which wasn't used well. - 4.4/10

50. Teruteru Hanamura - Kinda... interesting. Surprisingly humane motive. I actually prefer him to Mahiru now... 4.3/10 (changed to 4.5/10)

Dislike:

51. Miu Iruma - There's alot to say about this girl... uh... 4.2/10

52. Hiyoko Saionji - Insufferable. I hate her, WHINY AND ANNOYING, I skipped all her dialogue. 3/10

53. Hifumi Yamada - I hate him, but I put him in this category bc why not. Skipped all of his dialogue, he annoyed me so much. I ignored him. He killed Taka for no reason. 2.5/10 because he was helpful in one trial.

HATE:

All the Monokubs, except I forgot their names. Incest weirdos, no point in the whole thing. 2/10

Anyway, my ranking is a bit controversial, so tell me what you guys think! <3

[britsyankswheels24]

🇺🇲 Journey back to 2006 and witness the unveiling of The Chrysler Imperial concept car, a stunning homage to luxury and design!

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🔧 The concept car featured a commanding presence with its long wheelbase, stately proportions, and imposing grille. Its design paid tribute to the historic Chrysler Imperials of the mid-20th century, known for their elegance and advanced engineering. The large 22-inch wheels and bold lines were reminiscent of the brand’s legacy of combining luxury with power.

🚘 The interior of the Imperial concept car was nothing short of luxurious. It showcased plush leather seats, hand-crafted wood accents, and state-of-the-art technology. The spacious cabin was designed to provide unparalleled comfort, making every ride an experience in ultimate luxury. The rear seats were particularly notable for their limousine-like comfort, featuring reclining functionality and ample legroom.

⚙️ Under the hood, the Imperial concept was powered by a 5.7-liter HEMI V8 engine, delivering robust performance to match its grand exterior. This powerful engine was paired with a five-speed automatic transmission, ensuring a smooth and responsive drive. The car's suspension was tuned for a smooth ride, aligning with the luxury expectations of the Imperial name.

📜 The Chrysler Imperial nameplate has a storied history. First introduced in 1926, the Imperial was Chrysler’s top-of-the-line vehicle, intended to compete with other luxury brands such as Cadillac and Lincoln. Throughout its production years, the Imperial was known for its innovative features, luxurious interiors, and powerful engines. The 1955 Chrysler Imperial was the first to be marketed as a separate brand, emphasizing its premium status. Notable models like the 1961 Imperial LeBaron and the 1981 Imperial featured cutting-edge designs and technology that set industry standards.

💼 Although the Chrysler Imperial concept car never made it to production, it left a lasting impression on automotive enthusiasts and industry experts. It served as a bold statement of Chrysler's vision for the future of luxury vehicles, blending timeless design with modern innovation. The concept also highlighted Chrysler's commitment to its rich heritage while looking forward to new possibilities.

📸 The concept Chrysler Imperial from 2006 remains a captivating piece of automotive history, symbolizing a moment when bold ideas and exquisite craftsmanship came together to create a truly memorable vehicle. It stands as a testament to Chrysler's enduring legacy in the luxury automotive market.

[bomberqueen17]

ugh

I can't sleep and I'm just sort of stewing over how unprepared I am to be entirely on my own managing my own healthcare. blech.

Did I mention, Farmsister was suffering from hip pain and went to her doctor and was diagnosed with the exact same problem I have?

Diagnosed, I said. Yes! Her doctor actually investigated the cause of her pain, diagnosed her, referred her to a physical therapist, but also came up with a plan of treatment. Told her physical therapy often can't resolve this issue, so after a set amount of PT, if there wasn't enough improvement she'd refer her to an orthopedist instead.

Imagine that. My doctor was like "you've got intermittently debilitating pain? You should go see a doctor about that." and that was that. I went to a physical therapist because that's what she recommended, but I don't have a plan, I'm just spending $150/wk to work out in a room full of other people. I guess I'll ask my PT if there's a plan or like timeline or like, idk, something we should look for, or what. IDK what a realistic goal is. Pain-free seems out of reach. I'd settle for largely functional, I guess? But I don't know, and I guess I'm on my own to figure it out.

And the same with the ADHD! She was like "oh, your insurance isn't going to cover it and it's probably going to take months of waiting, but you had better go see someone about that", and refused to engage any further. So I messaged the psychiatrist today and he doesn't check the messages on that platform so I texted the admin who was like oh usually medication is adjusted at follow-ups, and I'm like well in the three minutes he talked to me it didn't come up I guess, so then they texted back that he says to try taking two pills a day for a couple days and then schedule a follow-up.

I've asked around, and usually I guess the regular adderall pills, you take in two doses at separate times. But if the point is that I'm trying to see if a higher dose helps, I'd probably better take them at the same time??

It's just that when the small ineffective dose wears off four or five hours after I take it, without my ever having had a good phase, I get horribly drowsy and also get this kind of gross formless yearning that I think might be a dopamine crash, where I roam the house in itchy horrible discontent trying to think of something that might help me, but it's not candy and it's not reading a book and it's not napping, and I guess I understand why people turn to drugs or self-harm because the feeling is awful, spacy and wrung-out and aimlessly needy.

But I guess it's up to me to research what that is and what to do about it, and then at my $250 three-minute follow-up appointment in three days or whatever I'll tell the psych what I want prescribed to me, because it's sure as shit not like he's going to have any fucking advice for me.

And like. Laugh out loud at the notion that my primary care physician would give a single shit about this. Maybe I didn't mention this on here either but literally the only thing she has looked into about me is that my blood tests came back with a fasting blood glucose level of 5.7 (idk what units, just that she's fixated on that number) and it is exactly entirely that post circulating about """"pre-diabetes"""? She has put in my chart that she wants to start me on Metformin!! Christ all fucking mighty, it could not be more obvious that she took one look at my fat ass and was like "this bitch eats only candy! I'd better scare her straight!"

Ma'am fuck off. She wants me to get my blood retested in July and I am figuring I'll take advantage of having to have a visit then anyway to get the ADHD stuff entered into my main chart, and I'm also going to tell her that since she was so disinterested in literally any of the conditions actually debilitating me (my hip pain and my ADHD) I had to research those so I could treat myself, and in the course of researching that I found out about the fake "epidemic" of "pre-diabetes" which isn't a thing, it's a fucking PR gambit to sell drugs, and so if she prescribes me diabetes drugs when I do not fucking have diabetes I will not be taking them, and I will also be looking for a new doctor, because I do not appreciate her fixation on treating a condition I do not have while ignoring things that are literally preventing me from leading the life I want to, wherein I can do things like, stand/walk as much as I like and can also like, perform tasks.

So there's my timeline.

(Yeah my insurance won't cover blood testing a second time in a year so that's gonna cost me $200ish, and the phone doctor visit she insisted on to discuss the results last time was $45 and it'll be that again for this one, but I mean, eventually I'll hit my deductible maybe.)

I don't know, people tell me that they have medical professionals that actually listen to and treat them and give them like actual good actionable advice on how to improve their various health conditions but as far as I can tell that all sounds fake and isn't a thing.

Unfortunately, I am too fucking debilitated by my Can't Think Good disease to do a competent job at caring for myself, so I guess I'm just going to have to fucking muddle through somehow, or something.

Probably I should put together my citations on how Pre-Diabetes Is Fake so that when I unload that on my doctor I can do so with fucking footnotes at least. Lord knows I can't sleep at the moment so I might as well do something productive.

[sirlightningpotato]

Ik I joked about this after 5.7 but like literally in 5.8

[jacdurac]

1973 Plymouth 'cuda ... Gen lll 5.7 liter Hemi, auto

[aeruthien]

Basically continuously during this campaign posts have popped up about BH's not talking as much as the Mighty Nein, or the relationships not having as much depth.

And while this may be due to the plot structure or the character dynamics, I think it is easy to underestimate just how much the increase from an (average) of 6, to a 7 and now 8 player group has on the 'screentime' of individual pairings (pairing as in literally two people, not a relationship pairing).

So here is a mathematical breakdown of exactly that. The results might shock you!

Let's focus on the unique one-on-one pairings, so for example Chetney and Laudna, or Caleb and Beau, and limit us to PCs. I'll ignore trios and more because those get even more complicated, and the same principle applies.

Let's say that an average episodes takes 4 hours, and about half of it is dedicated to interaction between characters instead of combat, plot related stuff, etc, so about 120 minutes. These numbers are all arbitrary because it is all relative, but an example makes it easier to interpret. Let's also say for the sake of simplicity that each pairing gets allotted the same amount of screentime on average over all episodes.

The M9 had 6 PCs for most of the campaign. This means that there are 5+4+3+2+1= 15 unique pairings. If each pairing gets an equal amount of dedicated screentime, each pairing has 120/15=8 minutes of screentime.

Now take BHs. They usually had 7 PCs which means there are 6+5+4+3+2+1=21 unique pairings. Each has 120/21= 5.7 minutes of screentime.

So for each episode, each pairing of the BH has 2.3 minutes less than or about 70% of the screentime of a pairing in the M9, just because of the number of players.

So what does this mean?

If BH's pairings only have 70% of the M9s screentime, this means that for each M9 epsiode, BHs need 1,4 episode to reach the same amount for each pairing. Reversely, the amount of screentime that the BHs reach at say episode 100, is reached by the M9 as early as episode 70.

So in other words, in the 100 episode we've had of BHs, they've had the same amount of screentime as the Mighty Nein at episode 70.

So while it is true that BH don't talk as much, they also have literally less time to have one-on-one conversations.

Now with Robbie, the party has increased to 8, which gives us 7+...+1=28 unique pairings, which is almost double of the M9. (28 / 15 =1.86). So we need 2 BHs episode for each M9 episode.

Now of course, an episode needs to do more than just people talking to each other: the plot has to progress; plans have to be made; shenanigans have to ensue. But because the run time is limited, this only detracts from the time for individual pairings.

So while discussing BHs interactions, keep in mind that while there is only an increase of 2 players, that means we have twice as much pairings to deal with, and so half as much time for each of them to talk.

(For those curious, if we look at trios, so let's say, Veth-Fjord-Jester or Orym-Dorian-Fearne, it goes from 20 unique combinations for a 6 player party, to 56 unique combinations for a 8 people party. Yeah.)

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

This 1953 Muntz Jet convertible underwent a three-year custom build under previous ownership, and it was purchased by the seller in 2021. The car is powered by a fuel-injected 5.7-liter LT1 V8 engine paired with a four-speed automatic transmission and a Ford 9″ rear end, and it is finished in Apple Pearl with a white Carson-style removable top over gray snakeskin-style Naugahyde upholstery. Features include custom bodywork, an Art Morrison frame, power-assisted steering, four-wheel disc brakes, airbag suspension, Painless Performance wiring, and more modified and fabricated details. This custom-built Muntz is now offered with a copy of Rodder’s Journal magazine featuring a story on the build and a clean California title in the name of the seller’s business.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The steel, aluminum, and fiberglass body is mounted on an Art Morrison ladder frame that was boxed and finished in semi-gloss black, and the floor was raised 3″. The exterior was repainted in a Sherwin Williams two-stage Apple Pearl mixed by the late Stan Betz. Features include a chopped Duvall-style windshield, 1950 Chevrolet headlights, dual Appleton spotlights, 1951 Ford Victoria side windows, and a white removable Carson-style top fabricated to match the height of the chopped windshield. Additional equipment includes color-matched rear fender skirts and chrome bumpers. Wear from fitting the top is noted on the rear deck.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Steel wheels sourced from a 1976 Dodge measure 15″ and are mounted with Cadillac Sombrero-style covers and whitewall tires. A matching spare fitted with a BFGoodrich Silvertown tire is mounted within a rear-mounted Continental-style chrome carrier. A Mustang II front end accommodates power rack-and-pinion steering , and the car rides on an electronically-adjustable Air Ride Technologies airbag suspension system along with 2” lowered front spindles, Strange Engineering tube shocks, a rear Panhard bar, and front and rear sway bars. The seller reports that the front control arm bushings were recently replaced.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Braking is handled by GM G-body-sourced calipers matched with Ford Granada discs up front and Ford SVO-specification calipers and discs at the rear.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The cabin was customized by Jim’s Auto Trim of San Diego, California, and features Glide bucket seats and a rear bench trimmed in gray snakeskin-style Naugahyde upholstery, along with matching treatments for the dash trim, headliner, and door panels. Additional equipment includes a 1952 Lincoln steering wheel mounted to a shortened Lincoln steering column, gray cut-pile carpet, and a Pioneer stereo housed within a custom center cubby.

The engine-turned “Hollywood” instrument cluster houses Stewart Warner gauges consisting of an 8k-rpm tachometer, a 160-mph speedometer, and auxiliary readings for fuel level, battery charge, oil pressure, and water temperature. The five-digit odometer displays 25k miles, though total chassis mileage is unknown. A Lokar pedal assembly was fitted during the build.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The Corvette-sourced 5.7-liter LT1 V8 features a polished fuel intake manifold along with billet aluminum valve covers, and additional features include an Opti-Spark distributor, a Griffin aluminum radiator, and a wiring loom sourced from Painless Performance Wiring. A set of long-tube headers are connected to a 2.5″ exhaust system equipped with dual Dynaflow mufflers. The seller reports that the oil was recently changed.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Power is routed to the rear wheels via a four-speed 4L60E automatic transmission and a Ford 9″ rear end with with 3.55:1 gears and Strange Engineering 31-spline axles. Additional photos of the underside, drivetrain, and suspension components are presented in the gallery below.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The car was featured in issue #36 of Rodders Journal magazine