#streetracer

[dimalink]

Retro 80

Retro. 80s. Road. You are patrol policeman. You are riding the roads and you are destroying bandits and catching up street racers. And you are destroying them also. So, in a simple way, I am telling about how to play this Undercover Break. It is simple arcade racing with shooting. In retro 80s style. It is very important point – retro 80s theme.

Racing with shooting. You are just riding the track. In the city or village environment. And you are all the time destroying bandits and street racers. Casual cars you need to bypass. For all of these you get scores. For speed you are also taking game scores. And you have turbo speed up. It is made – like turbine with electronic components. This thing can speed you up to 280. This is maximum speed limit in this videogame. And so this way you can chase street racers faster.

Here we have elements of racing, shooting and speed boost. It is total 13 levels are developed. Gameplay is about retro, and this is very important to understand. And this retro videogame is made for modern computers. It is even more interesting. Run and play. You do not need to set your old MSX, ZX Spectrum, IBM 486 MS Dos.

And just for your casual computer it will work. Game is for modern computers. For operation system Windows, game itself is 32 bit application, and any office kind PC car run it. And after you can set your retro computer like Zx Spectrum and play in other videogames. If you have such machine. It is also required to find them and get them. It is not so casual task.

About development

Right now, it is time to finishing process with development. Graphics is already updated. Not at all the levels, saying the truth. But details were added to many levels. It was already fixed some elements of gameplay and small errors. These small errors don’t affect the gameplay. So you can play with them. For example, some animation, after you exit the pause, just get frozen. This is about speed effect. Such white lines around the car.

All the things I found – and fixed them. Graphics is added with details. This things just like try to add lots of colors elements to the screens. It is so, not critical. Just like, house was one colored and now it is two colored. Colors are added with the way of adding of lots of colors dots. So such “Wow”, that everything is increased about graphics, it is not this case. But it is more colors and details at the half of levels for sure.

Several levels are goes with special visual effects. When snow or rain all over the screen. And in detailing of such levels are not very big reason. Just like levels with low visibility. Such kind of effects like  - fog, that makes colors transmission worse. These levels are goes at final. Levels with such effects like snow, rain, fog – before final. For variety.

Pre final

In next step of development it will be fixed gameplay and rows of checks will be done. After that game will be complete for release! If, of course, will not appear some bugs. Then I need to fix them again, in that case. In any case, game is near about final, pre final stage, almost done. Percents 90+, 95 percents, 98 percents. Such a case.

About gameplay, there is desire to make game easier, than initial it was started. Steps into this direction are already made. Players have more lives, for example. And row of additional programming is made for collision with cars logic. It is a time, I try to find ways to make game easier and not changing code a lot. Any case, it is already in pre release state! And it is good! Summer! Good weather! And retro 80 theme!

This is about videogame UNDERCOVER BREAK.

Games page: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/games/undercoverbreak/index_eng.html

[shayshayshayshayshayshayshayshay]

Mafia Princess - Epilogue (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1080356535-mafia-princess-epilogue?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=2023Shay12345&wp_originator=MqKUFM8wZDTX%2B5nkfHVAVjmCz3oXhGDsrfFb4mtWBoJ6MTlqu0Fxr5Nrim%2BHDjGVKJYgPMoKNoAChZPH505fpcLdJq7CNwonYJJRYe6xP0iAzJdSzcK3T%2BfbCScxpw67 *Being re-written* This story is about a young girl named Akira. Getting kicked in the face every step in her life she had to learn how to be strong and learn to live by herself. Never having a family of her own she went ahead and found herself one. Now all of a sudden when her biological family enters her world asking for her to welcome them in how will she react? Read to find out her drama filled adventure with many laughs shared, memories made and tears shed :)

[enraged-beast]

Sorry I ghost3d you. . . . . . . . . . . #mopar #chellenger #dodge #dodgefam #design #art #photography #snapshot #instagram #4thofjuly #v6 #family #carnage #carshow #racer #streetracer #RadicalWrapz #gaming #dank #memes #likeforlikes #spookyseason #halloween (at Ghost Town) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ch-wVS_LEv9/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[norrisleclercf1]

You can’t convince me that streetracer Lando isn’t a jealous man but not in a toxic way, more in a bratty want all your attention and cuddle way

A/N: Pancakes anyone?

"So then I whip the egg white?" You ask, having separated the egg whites and yolk, Carlos watching you closely. "Yes, very good," He bumps your hips together which makes you giggle. "Thanks, I've always wanted to learn to make pancakes, and Lando said you made the best. Isn't that right Lando?" You look up, smiling brightly at your boyfriend who has this neutral look on his face.

"Sure," He gives you a tight lip smile, and you far to happy don't notice the way that Lando kinda looks at Carlos. Carlos ignores it, knowing his little friend was jealous, but really Carlos would never make a move on you. "Carlos, help." You whine, worried your whipping the egg whites to much.

Laughing he jumps in to help you and Lando stands quickly and walks into the kitchen and presses himself up against you. You don't mind, knowing Lando can be touchy with those he loves, and boy he certainly loved you. "Can I help?" He asks you, ignoring the look Carlos gives him.

"Ehh? Lando you hate being in the kitchen, there's a reason Max and I are the ones that cook in this house," Carlos scuffs, teasingly ruffling Lando's curls who bats his hand away. "I'm almost done, Lando. Then I'll be yours," Leaning over you kiss Lando on the cheek who groans and moves closer hugging you. "Pay attention to me know, want to cuddle. Can't Carlos finish your pancakes?" Lando asks, keeping his glare down this time.

You huff and turn in his arms to face him as Lando pouts at you. "Lando, I'm learning to make these pancakes for us." Lando rolls his eyes at this and kisses your lips. "Just come cuddle me nowwwww," He whines and you swear he's going to be the death of you. Carlos sighs and takes over as Lando drags you away and into his room.

"Lando, I was trying to make pancakes," You groan, but Lando doesn't bother and pushes you on the bed and you let him lie ontop of you. Neither of you say anything as he just cuddles closer and smiles, at him winning your attention. "I know what you did," You whisper, playing with his hair. You feel him shrug his shoulders, not sure what you mean by that.

"You got jealous didn't you?" Lando doesn't reply and you smile and tug a little which has him groan. "Okay, fine, I didn't like him having your attention, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin you and Carlos making pancakes, you can go back if you like." Lando says, genially feeling bad. "No, it's okay, can we just nap?" You ask and Lando nods, pulling a blanket over you two.

[raachelwrites]

Accessory to reckless driving [street racer /arrest commission]

If you're interested in getting your own personal commission, email me at raachelwrites@gmail.com

3… the engine revved. 2… a calming breath was released. 1… the lights were changing from orange to green - go!

The car lurched forward with a screech of the tires and a squeal from its riders. At the wheel beside Mia was her mentor and good friend, Gisele. Her fingerless driving gloves were positioned at ten and two on the steering wheel. The older girl looked over at her passenger and grinned. Her face then morphed into one of fierce concentration and pure determination. Her knuckles turned slightly white from her tight grip. This wasn’t her first rodeo.

Finally, it was the day of the big race. Days, maybe weeks of practise had led up to this. Learning the roads, nailing the timings of gear shifts… Mia got to attend most of the training Gisele put herself through, using it as an opportunity to teach her little student a few tips and tricks. As she had just gotten her licence it would still be a while before Mia could be a driver by herself in the street races she’d admired her whole life. As cool and laidback as Gisele was, she would make sure of that as her self-appointed guardian. The kid had still a lot to learn. Despite the slight disappointment, Mia was still more than happy to be along for the ride.

The experienced driver shifted into gear so smoothly and with so much ease it was as if the car was an extension of her own body. Gisele had six years on Mia and each one showed her mastery of the art of driving. Legends were told of her idol. She excelled in all forms of racing, drag, street, timed and lapped. If Mia could become half as good as a driver as Gisele, she'd be happy, and she would definitely go far. Gisele was one of the best drivers on the streets

The passion for such events was born out of the racing movies Mia loved to watch growing up. Need For Speed, Fast and Furious, Rush and so on…they were her bread and butter. She’d love the races themselves, but also the cars and the aesthetic. Until recently she’d been too young to drive her own set of wheels. That’s where Gisele came in. They’d met a while back through friends or friends of friends. The details were foggy but what mattered was that now, Gisele was like a big sister to her. She was the one who taught Mia to drive (to the slight distaste of her parents). And before then, fueled her fast car fantasies. She played a big part in what car Mia got for her sixteenth birthday. A Ford Mustang. A roaring race car with a sensible paint job to disguise it as a regular road car. Her parents were initially neither fooled nor pleased, but a convincing smile and continuous begging from their only child eventually swayed them.

As in love with her new baby as she was, it was nothing compared to Gisele’s beast of a car. Currently, they rode in a Mercedes SL class. The product of many past victories. A sleek but powerful machine - a convertible with the roof presently down so the girls’ hair whipped in the wind. When Gisele drove it, it was always as if she were filming an ad for Mercedes. She was as elegant and badass as the car. All that was missing was a kiss-ass soundtrack, though that usually blared from the amazing stereo. Though she was most likely biased, it was one of Mia’s favourite cars. Gisele told her all about how remarkable the handling was, its reliability and so on. She’d rattle on about the grand tourer sports car, spewing in awe every time about the horsepower, 0-60mph time… something about engine volume and gas mileage…she’d, of course, heard all about it multiple times. Mia wasn’t up-to-date on all the lingo yet, but she was eager to learn.

Mia leaned back, head tilted to the brilliant blue sky and with her arms raised towards it she let out a delighted “wah-hooooo!”

They cruised down the highway, way faster than the speed limit. Along with the other racers, they weaved through the non-participating vehicles. The sound of the roaring engine was loud in Mia’s ears as Gisele stepped on the gas. She gasped in delight when they swerved around a truck, narrowly avoiding ploying into the back of it. The honking of horns faded as they sped away from the angry road users.

Mia acted as Gisele’s spotter, looking out for their opponents and pointing out openings in the road. Out of the four competing, they were soon leading the pack. Gisele let out a soft curse when the racer that was behind them overtook from the inside, putting them back into second place. But not for long. “Opening to your left!”

“Good shout kid!” Gisele grinned wickedly as she sailed past the enemy car.

What was decided to be the finishing line, was drawing closer. Mia looked over her shoulder. All three other racers were visible - it wasn't a win just yet. This is anyone’s race, Mia thought, leaning forward in her seat. But, before the girls could think about their chances of victory, police sirens sounded behind them. Both of them swore loudly. Mia’s heart - which was already beating hard in her chest - went into overdrive at the prospect of being pulled over and arrested. Reckless driving, speeding, endangerment to civilians... The list of potential charges went on. She thought back to the cop shows she'd adored watching growing up. Dramatic close-ups of people in handcuffs bent over car hoods, the wailing of sirens mixed in with the jaunty intro music… she wondered if there was a film crew jammed into the back of the police cruiser, currently signalling them to pull over.

“Ah, shit…” Gisele muttered and brought the car to a law-abiding speed.

“We’re giving in?!” Mia squealed in a tone that could be interpreted as fear when in truth it was anything but.

“Yup… I do not want this race ending in a police chase…”

“Either way, we’re ending up in handcuffs!” the excitement was clearer in her voice then.

Gisele didn’t have time to evaluate her young passenger’s words or the manner in which they were spoken. Not wanting to add ‘failing to stop for the police’ to her record, she found a safe place to pull over. As they slowed to a stop, Mia jabbed at her friend, no concern present in her tone, “ uh-oh, you’re going dooooown!”

“You are too, scamp” the girl retorted, sending a rush of excitement through the adrenaline junky that was the teenager beside her.

Their compliance allowed the other three to drive on. Mia pointed them out as they zipped by, one by one. That was the victory and prize money lost… If anything, it would give the girls some decent clout for taking the fall.

The engine was cut off and Mia looked up at her friend. “Ready for this kid? Your first arrest right? It’s gonna be all - “ Gisele deepened her voice as she continued, “‘you’re under arrest! Exit the vehicle and put your hands behind your head!’ Ever been in handcuffs?”

Mia was hooked on every word, shaking her head when appropriate. Her dazzling eyes were met with a reassuring smile, “you’re underage, and not the one driving, you’ll be fine.”

This gave Mia the go-head to dispel any worry she had and allow the thrill she was experiencing to bloom. Siren off but lights still flashing behind them, the girls waited for the appearance of a very cross and highly likely arrogant asshole of a cop to emerge.

"We're getting busted...get your hands up girl!" Mia chimed

“Yeah yeah…” Gisele replied with an eye roll, undoing her seatbelt and holding her hands up in mock surrender.

“Though you might wanna get used to them being behind your back,” Mia stuck her tongue out and was met with a playful slap. “You’re only wearing a bra too!”

“Shut it will you? You’re no better, smartass,” she sneered but with no real malice behind her words or tone. She slumped in her seat and added with a groan, “your parents are going to kill me…”

She straightened up as the officer got out of his car. Instead of the stereotype they assumed, a firm and level-headed policeman - who appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties - approached. Probably a family man, disappointed with his status as a traffic cop. There was no smug expression of a cocky man in blue. He looked tired and unimpressed.

Gisele flashed him a calm smile. The officer sighed and said, “you out, you -” he pointed at Mia, “stay there.”

“She wasn’t involved at all, she’s only 16 so -”

“Be quiet and get out…” he interrupted, not angry but still authoritative.

“Go go!” Mia chimed in, not actually wanting her friend to talk the cop out of busting her too.

Gisele stepped out of the car and followed the instructions barked at her. Still seated, the girl watched intently with each step.

“You know what to do, hands behind your head and face the car.”

Gisele followed the orders as they came, indeed knowing how it went. When she spun around the girls gave each other knowing grins. She made it look as if she was posing for the girl in the car and mouthed, “you’re next,” making Mia giggle and hiccup with anxious anticipation. She was enamoured by the natural aesthetic Gisele radiated. It was like she was straight out of one of those movies she adored so much. She strived to be just like her.

Then the officer gave her idol a professional pat-down. He stuck to just her dark green cargo pants as she couldn’t reasonably smuggle anything in the black sports bra she wore as a top. Mia’s eyes followed the movement of the action. Next, he took down her hands, one by one and fastened a pair of metal cuffs around them. Even over the sound of the traffic around them, Mia could still make out the *clink* of each cuff fastened to her wrists. Or maybe she imagined it. Either way, the sound was intoxicating.

Gisele made sure to give Mia a good view of the cuffs, pointing at her as best she could as if to reiterate that Mia would be in her position soon. Guided by her hands behind her back, Gisele was escorted to the back seat of the police cruiser. Mia watched every step, noting how her bound hands playfully tapped against her back. Again, this was most likely entertainment for the younger girl, a way to ease the nerves Gisele assumed she must have had.

That’s going to be me! That’s going to be me! Without realising it, Mia was holding her breath. She was also wriggling impatiently in her seat. She let out her breath when the man returned. It was her turn now. She hoped she would look as badass as Gisele did. The officer came round to the passenger door, opened it and beckoned her out. His radio crackled to life. Unintelligible words spat from it, undecipherable to the average ear but apparently completely legible to the man. He responded in equally bizarre cop speak - like he was speaking in code. There were lots of numbers and abbreviations. She could only make out the term, ‘two young white females’.

“Step around to the front of the vehicle miss,” the cop spoke firmly as Mia got out of the car. She did as she was told, butterflies exploding in her stomach. This was so exciting! She hoped the man didn’t mistake her heavy breathing for fear. That ran the risk of him going easy on her! She told herself to draw out the process as long as possible. She just had to make the most out of the experience. She dawdled, wanting to be expressively told each step of what to do.

The cop sighed, “hands behind your head, face the vehicle…”

Slowly, Mia raised her arms. The movement caused her pink half tank-top to ride up. With her arms behind her head, she became aware of how exposed her stomach was. The bottom of her sports bar was visible, poking out from under the short-sleeved shirt. She sucked in her stomach, making it taut and wondered if that made her look better. Impatience flickered in the man’s expression. She continued to test it by taking her time to spin around. She caught herself in the windshield of the car and smiled at her reflection. She was definitely rocking that pose, just as well as her mentor.

Then came the search of her denim shorts. Mia cursed herself for not wearing anything else that would make her pat-down last longer. Dammit, it’d be over soon! He did, however, pat around her shirt - that was a bonus! She felt his cold knuckles as the back of his hands touched her exposed ribs. Once done - way too quickly in her opinion - a thought came to mind. She dropped her arms without being instructed to, eager to have them behind her back and waited to see the cop’s reaction.

He had just about lost all patience with her. With an annoyed grunt, he repositioned her hands back on her head and pushed her front onto the car. Mia let out an excited gasp. He snatched up her arms, bending them with slight aggression behind her and snapping a set of cuffs on, each metal ring clinking into place one at a time. She got to hear the satisfying sound clearly this time.

The heat from the engine and the blazing sun combined to make the hood of the car comparable to that of a hot plate. The cold of the metal cuffs bit into her wrists while the heat of the hood toasted her bare stomach and the fair skin of her cheek. The chill from the handcuffs pieced the small of her back when the cop pulled her upright. The sensation sent shivers up her back and goosebumps to erupt on her arms which were held close to her body.

The officer spoke clear and frank as he marched her to his vehicle. ‘Accessory to reckless driving’ was the term used when he read Mia her rights. She was paraded with a confident glint in her eye to the police car. The man helped her duck her head and got her to shuffle in next to Gisele. The older girl greeted her friend with a relieved smile. “What was that about?!” she whisper-shouted to her, referring to the extra step involved in her arrest.

To Gisele’s confusion, Mia replied with a devious glint in her sparkling eyes, “well I had to make the most of it didn’t I?”

Her friend simply shook her head at the little weirdo she’d do anything for. Suddenly her face lit up as she remembered something. Now that she knew Mia was safe her mind went on to the next most important thing in her life - her beloved car! “what’ll happen to my baby!?” she wailed, posing her questions to the empty front seat, “Will they look after her? Oh god…”

They angled themselves against each window to watch the officer assess their car.

“He’ll be doing a search of her now,” Gisele sighed and sat back.

“Got anything illegal in there?” Mai raised a smug eyebrow.

“No!” Gisele said, a bit too quickly. She furrowed her oven brows, developed a look of deep thought then answered again a bit more confidently, “no!”

They both laughed. The older girl got a bit more serious as she asked, “You doing okay, champ?”

“Uhhh - yeah!” Mia beamed, earning another amused head shake.

As the officer got seated with a grunt she bombarded him with questions about her ‘baby’.

“Calm down…” the gradually more exasperated officer sighed then proceeded to explain the process of towing and fines and what-not. Once more, Gisele sighed in relief and leaned back into the comparatively less comfortable seats of the police car - made even worse with the cuffs on. Clearly, she wasn’t enjoying the experience as much as Mia. The discomfort was just that, nothing more for the more experienced girl that had her fair share of rides handcuffed in police cars.

She dipped her head onto one shoulder to look back at Mia and told her that at least she learned something today. "Some days end with handfuls of cash while others..." Mia got where she was going and finished for her "And some end handcuffed in the back of a cop car," she wiggles her cuffed hands, already leaving marks around her wrists and smiled like it was the best day of her life. It was.

...

▲

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[s-4pphics]

mourn. intro. (e.w.)

INTRO. 

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

WARNINGS: streetracer!ellie, dealer!oc, backstory lemme cook, parental death, mentions of overdoses, funeral, baby ellie :), oc intro… cackles evilly

A/N: last post til eid lol 

pay zakat. feed a family this ramadan. k!ll zios.

SEPTEMBER, 2009

ANGUISH floods Ellie’s chest as she witnesses decorative rosewood being lowered into the sopping dirt. It’s cinematic; watching herself from a bird’s eye view, floating above her own body. Her brain cranks at an alarming rate. Churning in attempts to convince her that she’s not actually here, staring dead at her mother’s casket. The grass sludges beneath her shoes with every unsteady shuffle of her feet. 

There aren't many people around. Three of her mother’s former work friends, a service dog, and the officiant. They’re hardly acknowledging Ellie; no one would be able to stop her from leaping head-first into the ground due to the lowering clouds. Buried and suffocated by grass and mud, a feast for the maggots, but loved eternally. Every cell in Ellie’s body thrums with anxiety. Just when she trusted that her mother’s health was improving, she woke up, shrouded in ice next to a limp body and an empty pill bottle on the nightstand. The same ones her mother took to sleep throughout the night. 

That was three weeks ago. She doesn’t remember calling 911. 

Her best friend — her only friend is gone. And it’s permanent. This isn’t like how her mother used to scavenge the streets until dawn searching for another job before Ellie woke up. She’s not coming back to crawl into their shared, warm bed, sleep for half an hour, then help her get ready for school. No more oatmeal in the mornings. No laughter. No joy. No symmetry. Ellie’s life is forever scattered. Beaten to death until she’s leaking venomous, black blood.

There’s a man that keeps staring at her with pity: familiarity crushes her every time they lock eyes. She kind of remembers him. Somewhat. She almost forgot her shoes before coming here. He seems more upset than her. At least externally; Ellie’s rotting from the inside. 

Her mother’s chamber is completely submerged underneath dirt within the next few hours. The man from earlier is much closer now. 

She jumps when he whispers, 

I owed your mom a favor. 

OCTOBER, 2009

Ellie hates Joel. Hates her mother for leaving her with him. Hates herself for not being able to save her from the claws of addiction. 

Joel’s home is always silent during the day. He gave Ellie the grace of letting her stay home until the Spring, but it’s too quiet. Music never plays and they never talk, and it’s driving her to madness. The silence makes her itch. 

Until the sun sets. 

She already has trouble sleeping. Her insomnia combined with the thunderous clanking that blares from the garage every night is enough to get her sobbing into her pillow until the sun rises the next morning. One night, the noise had gotten so uncontrollably loud that Ellie barged into the garage to shout every curse she recalled her mom screaming into the phone before bedtime.

She didn't expect, however, to see Joel’s legs extended out from underneath her mom’s wrecked ‘57 Chevrolet. Ellie could hear him grunting as cranking and banging of metal took over the space. 

… What are you doing? 

Joel rolls out from beneath the car on a creeper, face confused and smeared with dark sludge. 

Why’re you up? 

It’s loud. She snaps. Why is her car here. 

Joel sighs. Just trying to fix it up. 

For what. Ellie eyes the cracked windshield. She somehow remembers how a rock hit it on the freeway when she was six. Her mom was livid. She can’t drive it anymore. 

Joel’s face twists uncomfortably. It’s almost comical; the seemingly boiling child stands at a whopping four-foot-three with her fists clenched, burning holes through her bright yellow Spongebob pjs. Her glare sharpens when he mumbles, 

Kid… 

So you stole her freaking car? Her eyes swelter, brows hauled downward and hands in fists. He sits up straight, palms up in surrender, wrench in hand. How’d he even get back into their old house?

No, I — He rushes, She asked me to try n’ get it started again. That’s all. I… I shoulda asked you —

Ellie’s not sure why she’s so enraged, but she’s hollering with a pointed index in his direction, berating him, degrading him with sobbed vulgarities. Pushes him hard when he rises to comfort her. Eyes him with so much disdain that he flinches. 

She hates him. She misses her mom. 

The guest room door slammed shut with the click of a lock. She screamed for her mother for hours. Voice shrieking so loud that the neighbors came knocking after the first fifteen minutes. Cops pounded on Joel’s door and proceeded to conduct a wellness check on the household after an hour. 

Their presence made Ellie swallow her scorn. Ellie’s already received a small taste of what it’s like to be in the system. She vowed to never reenter as if her life depended on it. 

NOVEMBER, 2009

Joel made Ellie chocolate chip pancakes for her birthday. 

Breakfast is silent, per usual. Light clinks of utensils on silverware and breathing are the only proof of life in the room. Ellie refuses to touch the squared slices of pineapple. It was her mother’s favorite, despite her complaints of an itchy mouth after every juicy piece. 

Your mom and I… 

Ellie pauses, skeptic eyes connecting with Joel’s. He’s treading light, she can tell. The nerves in his fingers are evident; The sorrow in his eyes suffocates her. Joel’s gaze drops onto his plate at the scrutiny he receives from across the table. 

She’s a good friend of mine, He mutters before his lips turn downward. Was. 

Ellie snorts humorlessly, Way to rub it in. 

Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he sighs, I’m… Sorr—

Were you the one she told? Her tone is sharp. Unforgiving. I heard her on the phone a few days before she did it. 

A storm flurries in the man’s gaze. A familiar one; It’s identical to when she would catch her mother in the middle of night talking to herself with a bottle in her hand. The winds in his pupils take her back to one of the darkest times of Ellie’s life. Maybe they were closer than she assumed. They look identical when they’re guilty. 

I didn’t—

But he did. He’ll never forget being on the other line with Ellie’s mother as she attempted to keep her cries to a minimum. Her croaked wails terrified him. Left wounds in his chest as his heart raced. I can’t do this to her, She’d said, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! … Please… You owe me…

Joel did what he could over the phone. Made promises to her that he couldn’t keep, reaffirmed how much Ellie loved her. How badly she needed her mother, and eventually eased her sobs into pained whimpers. He believed the calmness she exuded prior to ending the call was a sign of understanding of her importance, but it wasn’t. Her mind and body merely accepted her fate. She was dead two mornings after. 

And Ellie was a witness to it all. 

Ellie’s eyes roll and sickness floods her, so she stands, You’re a liar. When you’re ready to tell the truth… You know where I am. She doesn’t bother to push her chair in, clean her dishes, pause at his calls of her name. Her feet stomp through the hallway, marrow searing beneath her skin. The guest room door slams shut and she breaks, guarded by the plainness of the beige walls while tears flow. 

She knows he knew. Why else would her mother leave her with him? 

-

-

- 

When Ellie got up to use the restroom hours later, she nearly tripped over a teddy bear holding a birthday cake. With candles. She’s never received a gift before. 

She doesn’t tell him that she slept for an hour with it hugged to her chest. 

The noises in the garage halt for a week. Ellie still can’t fall asleep. Joel has the same problem, she’s discovered. She finds him sprawled out on the couch one night, burning holes through the roof with a picture frame in his arms. She watches him silently for some time, perched behind the main wall of the hallway. 

Hey. 

Joel’s acknowledgement earns a gasp followed by scuffling, and he snorts. He sits up and sets the dusty frame on the cushion in front of him, noting how awful Ellie is at hiding; It makes him smile. Barely, but he’s endeared; Her entire arm was exposed. He can even see her duck-shaped slippers from where she’s tucked behind the wall. 

Ellie. 

She doesn’t come out, and he sighs. His heart twists painfully when he hears a wet sniffle. He’s up and moving when a guttural sob echoes from the hallway, crouching down in front of Ellie with her knees squeezed into her heaving chest. Joel’s heart cracks at her flushed cheeks drenched in salt. Talking won’t calm her, he knows it, but he’s unsure of what else to do. Ellie… isn’t an emotional kid, but he hushes her, attempts to cradle, apologizes softly. 

But when her wet eyes pinch open, she unravels and falls into him completely. Her arms squeeze around his neck in a deadly grip and she cries and coughs and whines for her mother. Joel holds her just as tightly as she hangs off him. 

We're gonna be fine, sweetheart. He mumbles, and he feels her head shake in denial, tucked in the crook of his neck. His knees wobble, and a soothing hand rises to caress the back of her head; He's never seen a kid this hopeless. It makes him wonder. 

What the hell did she witness in that house? 

Ellie’s always struggled to fall asleep alone. 

Her need to be coddled to dreamland was always a mystery to her mother. Skin-to-skin was a normal trait for infants, toddlers, maybe even a little over, but at age ten? Eleven, and unable to fall asleep without the feeling or knowledge of a loved one present? There was only one time where she recalled her mother carrying her to her own room to rest, but the second the door clicked shut, she was up. Awake. Alert and exposed to harm. Or, at least that’s what she convinced herself. 

She crawled into her mother’s bed minutes later and snoozed throughout the entire night. She didn’t hear the end of it when the sun rose. 

Joel doesn’t berate her, though. 

I can’t sleep by myself, she’d said to him after she calmed from her breakdown in the living room. They’d sat on the couch as he rubbed a comforting palm down her back, her small ones coming up to wipe her wet cheeks. 

How come? 

She scoffed, Scared of the dark, I guess? I dunno. I just can’t. 

Joel hummed in understanding. 

I’m like that, too. Sometimes. 

Ellie snickered wetly, You’re old, though. It’s not the same. 

Joel scoffed and snatched his hand away in mocked hurt. I’m not old! 

The gray hairs say otherwise! 

That night was the first time they ever laughed together. The first time Ellie laughed since her mother’s death, and it carried on until she knocked out beside him on the couch. 

For Joel, though, he couldn’t rest. Not when Ellie favored his daughter that much. Whenever he feels as though he’s progressing, letting go of grief, something life changing — disastrous — forces him right back to square one. Meeting Ellie was one of those moments. He tried to keep his weeping to a minimum as he held her sleeping form, eyes glued to the picture of him hugging his baby after her first soccer win. 

DECEMBER, 2009

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Ellie’s trapped inside the garage with Joel. 

Watching him tweak her mother’s vehicle has aided her raging boredom… To a certain degree. When he starts getting nerdy and raving about car parts, she tunes him out, despite the slight interest she’s taken with underneath the hood. 

The connecting wires, the bolts, the valves and cranks and this manual makes absolutely zero sense—

Can you stop dillydallyin’ around n’ hand me that? 

Ellie’s gobsmacked reading is paused when she passes Joel the manual, dark sludge-covered hands staining the fading paper. She cringes. 

Ellie watches silently as Joel inspects the contents, nodding to himself as his eyes flicker from the vehicle to the booklet, mapping out his next moves of attack. His eyes sparkle and curiosity sparks in her. 

Did you fix it? 

Joel only murmurs to himself, and Ellie’s eyes roll. She inches closer to him and waves a hand in front of his eyes. Hellooo? Is it gonna start? 

… I think so, kid. His head shakes in disbelief, If I can get that transmission replaced, it might be alright. 

Ellie’s brows furrow… What on earth is a transmission? 

I’ve been workin’ on cars for a while. I can tell you now that finding such an essential part for a model this old is gonna be tough. Might cost me an arm n’ leg. 

Ellie shrugs, You’ll figure it out, old man. 

He stares down at her blankly, Gee, thanks. Hand me that wrench, assistant. 

Ellie mocks glee on her skip to the rolling cart, Gosh golly dang, does this mean I’m hired? 

He jokingly snatches the tool from her extended hand. Little bugger. And just like that, you’re not gettin’ paid. How’s it feel to be outta funds? 

WAAAAAAA—

Ellie’s fake wails earn her a deep holler. 

Ellie oversees Joel until the clock strikes twelve, following his line of vision on every rusted compartment of the vehicle. Stood attentively at his side as he pointed out the carefully crafted machinery, listing their parts despite Ellie’s protest of forgetfulness. There are so many names for everything; Building cars seems so complicated, but curiosity sparks in her. She starts to think: maybe cars aren’t so boring. 

Another sleepless night for the both of them; Might as well commit to movie night. Fireworks are still going off in the small neighborhood hours later. The booming colors in the sky makes Joel's teeth grind. Reminds him of the time he took Sarah to Santa Monica Pier. 

Joel? 

Mhm? 

… What favor did you owe my mom? 

Thickness builds in his throat the second Ellie mentions her. He sets the large bowl of chocolate-doused popcorn onto the coffee table, reaching for the remote to turn the movie down. Not off, down. Ellie hates feeling like she’s being scolded. 

Joel doesn’t look at her, but her eyes are glued on the side of his face. 

Umm… He scratches his face, Did your mom ever mention me to you? Ellie denies with a hum. 

Joel’s mind whirs back to the first time he met Anna: sophomore year. He was exhausted, drained, barely making it, but despite being miserable, he still cared deeply for his education. He studied until his eyes burned, jotted down notes until his hand cramped and the librarian was gently urging him to head home. 

She… We were friends in college. He fonds, We met at an ice cream truck. 

Weird. Ellie notes causally, She hates dairy. 

… Yeah. She does. Joel coughs to mask the brokenness in his voice. 

Anna was… a genius, to put it lightly. Academically gifted to an intimidating degree. Her mind was a camera; She’d scan one excerpt from the thickest novel once and still manage to repeat it word for word years later. They had comms together; Her voice sounded like tweeting birds whenever she recited her prepared speech like it was nothing. She was an emotional speaker, entranced everyone in the room, and always ended with a question that forced students and professors to self-reflect. Joel wouldn’t call it a crush… Merely admiration. Envy. He was motivated whenever he left comms. 

He’ll never forget the image of her, sweating and worn, carrying what seemed like a twenty-pound backpack — all stuffed with calculus books — while ordering a can of Sprite from the humming, beaten down truck. Anna didn’t leave after the vendor handed her the soft drink. She simply turned to Joel, inspected him from head to toe, and turned back to the vendor. 

I’ll cover whatever he gets, too. With a thumb aimed at him. He nearly choked. 

A free snow cone couldn’t halt the racing in his chest. 

I know what you are. 

What, He questioned without a stutter. 

You fix cars? Anna quirked a brow at him. Joel’s brows pull downward. How did she know that? He’s fixed one car since he’s been enrolled. His buddy pulled up in front of his dorm asking for a windshield repair. But he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. I dunno. 

The green-eyed girl scoffs and sips from her nearly emptied can. 

You down to replace a tire? Some jackass thought it would be funny to leave a rusty nail in our parking lot. 

Our. She must have roommates… or lives where he does, he thinks. For how much? Not a beat missed. 

Her shoulders lift, I dunno. How much does a tire cost? 

Depends on the model. What d’you drive?

A chevy. Don’t ask the year, I’m not sure. It was a hand-me-down. 

A slight pause between them before Anna suggests with a sigh,

Come see ‘er. 

-

-

-

Thar she blows. 

Joel can’t help but snicker at the woman in front of him, posing right next to her teetered vehicle. It’s quite charismatic; the bright pink bumper stickers, the crisp turquoise paint job, the slight scratch on the trunk. It’s nice. Classically vintage; it suits her. 

A beauty, he notes with his eyes locked onto Anna’s. She gives a hum in agreement. 

Revive her, if ya don’t mind. I’m desperate and can’t sue, so. Joel nods and inspects the damage on her tire. The air is nearly fully gone, and it’s making her drive slump. 

Tire shouldn’t be more than thirty-five… Gonna have to head home for some stuff. Willing to wait an hour? When he turns to her, they’re shoulder to shoulder. 

Anna smirks, Whatever you need, mechanic. 

My dad, Joel corrects, He taught me the basics when I was like… twelve. 

Her voice lowers, Good on him… Earned me a discount, eh? A hand claps down on his shoulder and gives it an encouraging squeeze, and he revs to life. 

He swears the tips of his ears are red hot, Sure… minus that deposit. I needa twenty for emotional damages. 

Fuck off. Her eyes are soft, Might never go to the shop again. You’re officially my car fixer-upper. Fuck these grease-balls n’ their price spikes. 

Joel snorts, You get into that many goddamn accidents? 

She leans in closer, and his throat closes. Slams shut. Turns to dust. 

You’ll find out, mechanic.

That’s why you’re spending so much time on it, Ellie notes at Joel’s retelling before a harsh gasp escapes her. Dude, were you in love with my mom or somethin’?

The man stutters and coughs, No — what? I told you she was a frien—

Ellie snickers with a judgmental point, Yeaaah, yeaaah, I know how these things go. You sucker! 

What the hell — I’m not a sucker… And what things—

Anna and Joeeel sitting in a tree! — 

A pillow smacks Ellie dead in the face, and she topples over in cackles. Joel rubs deep in his temples. Ellie would’ve loved Sarah. Two little bullies who feast on his suffering. 

No more storytelling. I’m going to bed. 

You can’t! Remember? Ellie hollers as tears fall from her eyes. She coos at Joel when he lifts himself off the couch and down the hall, trying to mask his small smile. 

Aww! C’mon, old man, it was a joke! 

I can’t wait for you to go back to school, ya vermin! 

-

-

-

An exhausted Ellie creeps into Joel’s room half an hour later. She sighs in relief when she doesn’t hear snoring. Her mom was the worst when she was tired. She tiptoes across the carpeted floors until she’s in front of the unoccupied side of the mattress, stealthily adjusting the blankets and pulling back the sheets. 

She slowly manages to tuck herself in, fixing the pillows so her head rests on the cold side of the case, exhaling happily at the warmth defrosting her limbs. 

The second she dozed off, she yanked to consciousness by raspy sarcasm. Her eyes roll underneath her lids.

You can’t, either. Joel croaks, Remember?

JANUARY, 2010

Five days until school. Five days until misery. Five days until… strangers. Ellie’s skin crawls whenever she thinks about being an enclosed space with snot-nosed boys and soggy lunches. 

And math… Gross. 

Joel has been more than willing to postpone Ellie’s enrollment whenever she becomes anxious, but she always denies his requests. She’s grown to like Joel, but… he’s not the best teacher, especially social studies. Reviewing one of her old packets nearly gave him an aneurysm. She can’t afford to be homeschooled by him. 

What's been the best distraction from her impending doom? 

Binge watching Cars for the billionth time… And helping Joel patch up that blue Chevy. 

They celebrated their first victory last night for repairs, at least: Joel stuck and twisted the key to start up the engine, and it managed to stutter to life. For less than five seconds. The headlights barely came on and an old Foreigner record broke through the crackly speaker. They rejoiced with the brightest smiles as their hands slapped the dashboard before the vehicle crashed out once more. 

A glimmer of hope. A chance for reconnection. Anna’s sending them messages. The joy in that car shifted to grievance; Joel had to cradle Ellie in his lap as she wept into his shoulder. 

But there’s hope. Ellie wanted nothing more than to get this car working after that. Duty calls, though, and the alarm’s coming from a backpack. 

You got this, kid. Stop stressin’. 

Ellie, without a doubt in her mind, does not got this. 

Screaming children, muddy slides, bloody band aids; they’re all on the other side of that office door. Her worst nightmare has come to life, and she desires nothing more than to hide out in her mom’s car forever. The bag strapped around her shoulders matches the weight of a body. She refuses to let go of Joel’s hand as he speaks with the giggly receptionist who’s too happy to see him (what the hell), but it's okay; he’s holding hers just as tightly. Just as paranoid, apparently. 

She’ll be with Mrs. Lawson for the remainder of the year. Ellie hears the receptionist say over her pounding heart, She’s incredible! I’m sure they'll develop an amazing bond. 

Ellie’s palms are sweltering. Joel must feel it because his thumb nuzzles into her wrist. She’s not built for this. Maybe returning so soon wasn’t a great idea. She can’t do this without her mom. 

Cool backpack, Spidey, is said from behind her, and she stiffens instantly. 

She has a Spider-man backpack. 

Hush. An older man’s voice replies. Sounds strained. Stressed, but he only receives a light snicker from her in return. 

Ellie watches with squinted eyes as a young girl gets escorted towards the front of the office by… the principal, she assumes? He seems fancy in his suit slacks. 

You stay right here until I get your uncle on the phone, The suited man is stern towards the girl, who plops down on one of the waiting chairs. Backpack and all, You can explain to him how you swore at a teacher. I’m not dealing with this from you today. 

M’kay, Mr. Harris. 

Ellie observes the entire scene indiscreetly. Her stares are obvious, glued to the clearly agitated dean who stomps into his office. 

Where’d you get your backpack? 

Ellie’s stunned at your sudden whisper. She shocks herself when she quietly stutters,

Um… Walmart? 

You smile, I like it. I want one. 

Ellie simply nods, but gets paused before she can redirect her attention to Joel. 

Are you new? Your voice grows quieter when you look over your shoulder. Right at the principal’s door. I am, too. I just moved schools. 

This shocks the brunette. The new year just started, and you're already locked in the office with evidently angry staff. 

Yeah… I’m new. 

Something in your grin shifts. Ellie’s nails lock into Joel’s hand. … Interesting— 

Young lady! Did Mr. Harris give you permission to speak? 

You audibly ponder like the attendance clerk asked you to solve a riddle. 

No, ma’am. I apologize. 

Then hush. Not another word. 

Ellie watches you fold your hands politely, twiddling your thumbs. Your eyes don’t leave her backpack. 

Ready, kiddo? 

Her eyes finally reconnect with Joel’s, encouraging and chocolate, and she nods. He guides her to the office exit where her new life resides. Before their departure, she can’t help but take one last respectful glance over her shoulder. She finds you staring with a quirked lip and your wrist outstretched like your shooting spider webs at her. Ellie jerks her head forward and releases the breath she’s been holding. 

What a weirdo. 

tagggiiiiessss :3: @inf3ct3dd @fleshunger @sawaagyapong @elliesbitchh @aouiaa @elliesatchel @williamellieslilho @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @myluvforstarz

[goopiesglorp]

SORTA NSFW WARNING?? NO NUDITY

//

more racing au😼😼

oh what i would do to be wedged between a dolls thighs right at this moment (staring wistfully into the distance)

[sharkl-e]

baby i’m a race car driver, speedy bitch, catch up, need a reminder? 🤭

streetracer railao AAAAHHHGHHDHD just a little AU my friend and i conjured up with our delusional minds :’)))) god i love them

also, close ups under the cut !!!

[24kmar]

ꜱᴛʀᴇᴇᴛ ʀᴀᴄᴇʀ! ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

[bonesuh]

Isagi's official racing fit! (-w-)

[twilighthomunculusart]

Ghost Boy

[enraged-beast]

Come get me 🖤 . . . . . . . . . #mopar #chellenger #dodge #dodgefam #design #art #photography #snapshot #instagram #4thofjuly #v6 #family #carnage #carshow #racer #streetracer #RadicalWrapz #gaming #dank #memes #likeforlikes (at Ghost Town) https://www.instagram.com/p/ChPuRxvOgFW/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[norrisleclercf1]

Street racer Lando whose easily distracted because you turn up looking super hot

A/N: I have a couple more of these, in my inbox, but here you go babes

"Honestly, it's not that hard." Lando snips, Max scuffs as he wasn't going to fall for that. Charles looks over from the drinks as the music booms loudly in the house.

Just their annual house party, letting Carlos and Pierre invite everyone to the party. Of course, the invitation was extended to you. Lando's sweet and cool new girlfriend. The others were proud of Lando, having been crushing on you for so long.

"Hey? Where's Y/n?" Carlos comes up, handing off a red cup to Lando. Lando sniffs it and makes a face, but Carlos quickly switches his and Lando's cup. "Sorry," Lando sighs sipping on his coke. "I don't know, she's still getting comfortable with me doing this whole street racing thing. Not pushing it," Max makes a face.

For some reason, you two had become quiet close and he knew it doesn't bother you. "Please," Lando looks up, but stops mouth dropping open in shock. "What?" Carlos and Max turn and stare as you walk in, waving to Oscar who blushes and about runs into a wall with Logan.

Lando swallows thickly, like cotton was going down. You wore these pretty thick black heels which has little orange straps. A dress that hugged everything right and your hair pulled up into this gorgeous style. That made his hand twitch with wanting to tangle it in there and pull. Makeup was delicate, with black eyeliner and soft orange eyeshadow.

You turn, shrugging off your jacket that in big orange letters Norris was there, fuck you were wearing one of his street racing jackets. "Damn, I think she doesn't have a problem with it." Charles shouts and walks over to you. Kissing you on the cheek he hands you an unopened bottle and leads you to your boyfriend.

"Hey, Max." Max smiles and tips his head to you. Turning you blush, feeling nervous under your boyfriend's watchful eye. "Fuck, I mean," Lando shakes his head placing his cup down. "You look, woah. Just, yeah." Lando couldn't find the words.

You place your hand in his open one and he spins you around taking you all in. "You wore my jacket," Lando breathes and that has oyu freezing for a moment. "Is that okay? It's cold and I figured we'd be going.....out and I wanted to be comfortable, and it smells like you," Lando shuts up your rambles with a kiss.

Pulling back you lean into his body heat. "It's more than okay, it's fucking perfect." Lando kisses you again, this time his fingers find their way into your hair tugging it. "So perfect, god." Pulling away you blush seeing Carlos smirking at you two.

"Hey love birds, time to go." Carlos smacks Lando on the shoulder who doesn't even look away from you. "Lan, we got to go." Lando jolts back into reality and laughs, embarrassed by the fact he's so caught up in you.

"Right, right we're going." Lando gathers all your stuff as Charles glares, "Be careful." "Yeah, mom." Max groans getting smacked in the head with a can. Lando stands in the doorway walking you put on his jacket and goes all warm inside.

"Jesus, Lan. Either walk or fall I don't care, fucking move." Max groans shoving past into the crisp air. "I think he won't be driving tonight." Oscar snickers as Lando follows you like a puppy. "20, he doesn't even get there and they somehow end up back here." Logan chuckles and Oscar rolls his eyes.

Logan won.

[scytherst]

what woudl happen if i got a 10 foot takumi fujiwara cardboard cutout

[vouneaudonme]

[s-4pphics]

mourn. teaser (e.w.)

TEASER. 

WORD COUNT: eight thirty :3

WARNINGS: streetracer!ellie, dealer!oc, heavy angst, HEAVY MENTIONS OF ADDICTION AND VIOLENCE IN THE FUTURE, no one’s a good person bc i’m grieving 

A/N: sad

fck neil drukman. zios will d!e.

FEBRUARY, 2019

Ellie’s fist comes down hard on your front door, the aged and loosened wood rattling with the desperate punctures from her twitchy hand. You’re always here. You never miss a fucking phone call. Why won’t you open the fucking door? Her chest falls rapidly like oxygen is limited. The winds are seconds away from crushing her bones into dust, it seems. Panicked curses fall from her mouth; How did you allow her to get this far? Her throat swells in warning as her eyes fill. C’mon… c’mon, you fucking bitch—

Her palm twists around the doorknob, rattling it, strangling it, begging for it to loosen so you can deliver what you promised. You never fucking miss her calls. She whimpers like a dog when the lock doesn’t shutter. You have to fucking be here. 

She doesn’t realize she’s begging with her mouth against the wood. Anyone she can; her mother, God, for you to fucking be home and save her from misery. She’s freezing and fiends to shed her skin like a snake. 

Fucking stupid bitch, Ellie gasps. Her first breath in what felt like years, Open the motherfucking do—

Ellie?

Her eyes, tearful and lost, find yours. Clad in all black with her vice thrown over your shoulder, guarded by your more than recognizable bright orange duffel. Ellie nearly drools at the sight, Please… please let me in, I’m gonna fucking die—

She has angered you in an instant, face twisting with creases between your brows. You always are when she shows up unannounced. In her defense, she warned you before she wandered upon your place. Dialed your number for an hour straight. 

I fucking told you a billion times—

I know, I know—

You trek until you’re in front of her, snarling your teeth like a lion, You don’t fucking know. You’re— Palms connect with Ellie’s chest and she stutters back, — I fucking told you no. Find somebody else. 

Ellie’s rebuttal is sharp as she grips your wrist, There’s no one fucking else and you know it. Don’t pull this shit right now—

You scoff and shove her off to unlock your door. She hates how her mind whirs to shove you to the side and steal away with your bag. Take your drunk ass home—

She fails to deny her intoxication. The stabbing pains in her side won’t allow it, And if I don’t? The fuck are you gonna do? Ellie snorts and it’s dark. Shoot me in the goddamn face? … Call the cops? 

Your door is unlocked, but you don’t open it. She can feel exhaustion radiating off you. It weighs her down. You weigh her down. She hates what you’ve done to her. If anything, you owe her for the damage you’ve caused. So, she preys. Claws at the one inkling of leverage she has over you. The only thing you’ll never back away from. 

Ellie’s eyes go soft. A ploy she’s mastered over the years. I love you so much… You can’t leave me like this… Your sharp exhale is painful to digest. She pads closer with tightly clenched fists; watches yours clutch the knob of the entrance as grounding. I won’t do it here. I promise, She whispers and watches your shoulders droop. Pride disguised as guilt sparks in her chest. She can practically taste euphoria. 

Ellie… Your voice shakes. She’s instantly transported back to high school. The ache in your strained call still remains. Dejected. 

Yes? Her reply is sweet as candy, and she knows she’s got you. Fingers jump underneath the cuff of her jacket sleeve. Eager, anticipating the rush of crushed pills in her nose. 

You’re heaving, chest rising and falling at an increased pace with tearful eyes glued to your rusted roof. All before you choke, If I ever see you again, I’ll rip your fucking throat out. 

Every time Ellie believes she’s grown used to your aggression, she’s proven wrong. Your anger causes her body to lock, feet glued to the floor as her expression drops. You manage to throw yourself into the shack you call home, door slamming in her face and lock clicking, trapping her in icy wind. 

NO! Nonononono—

Ellie’s screaming into the void, screeching like a banshee on cracked concrete as she kicks at your door with a weighted heel. 

On the other side, you drop to the floor, stocked duffel flung as far away from you as humanly possible in your hysteria. Your sobs are earth-shattering and your chest cracks open, scratching at unkept hardwood as you recall how the fuck you got here. There’s no future, no hope, no anything for you. For your best friend whom you’ve destroyed. You’ve ruined her. 

Ruined yourself in fire.