hi!! ur jake x tonowari fic got me thinking like ive been thinking abt ur writing for days.
imagine the both got back from an unsuccessful hunt together and the reader asked them if they needed any help after the hunt and they were like "yes 😈" and just hardcore smut
Stress relief
Jake Sully x female reader x Tonowari
Words: 3.1k
Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, mmf threesome, oral, p in v, pandoras mighty dilfs in action, rough sex, cum swallowing, poly relationship, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, kinda forced orgasm, spit roasting, squirting, praise kink, use of 'sir’, slight degradation kink too if you squint
Notes: I’m using that gif purely bc jake looks like he’s fucking someone and Tonowari talks them through it— 😩 (pls make sure to reblog, I feel like this is gonna get shadowbanned too)
You’ve been waiting for them inside your marui pod patiently. The hours have passed painful slow without them and it’s not until the eclipse had started, that two familiar Na‘vi return to your shared home. Immediately, you jump to your feet to greet them happily, but the expressions on their faces are everything but. That could’ve mean only one thing.
"What’s wrong? Didn’t catch anything today?", you ask them carefully, while the both set away their weapons, spear and bow. Tonowari purses his lips before he speaks with a sigh, "No, the Srakats were especially tough today."
"Don’t be disappointed", you smile at him gently, "I‘m sure you‘ll catch one next time."
Jake passes you to stow away some other things, but before he does, he leaves a small kiss on the corner of your mouth. "You should’ve seen us though, we put up one hell of a fight with those things." He’s says it so half heartedly, seemingly trying to cheer up the mood but still, your smile drops. They’ve been talking about nothing else than this hunt since yesterday, were gone for the whole day and are now probably very exhausted too, it’s no wonder they were frustrated. You can’t help but feel bad for them.
"Is there anything I can do to make you both feel better?" The question is innocent. You’ve been thinking about cooking them their favorite meal, you’re pretty sure you still have some meat stored, but with the way the two of them instantly look at each other… you could’ve only guessed that’s not what they have in mind.
Tonowari slowly closes the gap between you and him, his board arms circling your smaller frame and pulling close into a hug. You sigh against his warm skin, your big, oblivious eyes looking up at him through long lashes.
"I think there’s a thing or two you could do about that", he says slyly and your eyebrows rise. Behind you, you can hear Jake chuckle, "He’s been talking about nothing else all day. I’d say it’s partly your fault too, that he was so unfocused and we didn’t catch anything."
"M-My fault?", you blink at him over your shoulder and Jake hums in agreement. "You had him all hard and desperate, daydreaming about that cute little pussy aaall day." At his words, you swallow thickly and your gaze switches from Jake back to Tonowari.
"If I remember correctly, you were the one to plant such thoughts in my head in the first place", he chuckles, "Talking about all the things you were going to do to her once we‘re back. All that talking scared away the Srakats!"
You giggle at the way they’re teasing each other and suddenly, both pair of eyes land on you. "What’s so funny, sweetheart?", Jake tilts his head and you bite on your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. He looks at you for a moment, eyes roaming over you body as he licks hip lips and crosses his muscular arms over his chest.
"Undress", Jake orders you with a stern look on his face. You’re dumbfounded for a second, like you’re frozen in place. But then Jake raises his eyebrows, prompting, and immediately you get to work, undressing yourself. You’re clumsy as you do, hurriedly untying your loincloth, almost stumbling over your own feet in the process and when it comes to your top, you struggle with the clasp. "A little faster than that, bunny. We don’t have all day. Unless you want me to rip it off of you, hm?" Quickly, you shake your head. You’ve spent way too many hours weaving that top, just for Jake to destroy it because he was too impatient.
The two tall Na‘vi stare you down so intensely and with so much lust in their eyes that your hands begin to tremble. Still, you somehow manage to finally get your top off and it falls to the ground next to your feet. Now you stand there, awkward and completely bare before them, obediently waiting for your next order.
You could feel their eyes on you and the whole situation made you feel insanely excited. In their minds, they were already touching, kissing, licking and biting on every part of skin they could see. You squirm a little and clench you thighs together, eager for them to make it happen. Tonowari then reaches out and gently brushes a thumb over your cheek and you close your eyes and lean into it, sighing. "Get on your hands and knees for me, will you do that?"
Oh he didn’t had to tell you twice.
Heat floods your cheeks as you drop to your knees, almost embarrassingly fast and Tonowari chuckles at the sight. Like this, you were almost eye level with his crotch and the bulge forming right under his loincloth was speaking for itself, proving to you, that what they had told you was true. He wanted you. So bad.
Tonowari steps closer and like this, you had to crane your neck to look at his face. The metkayina strokes your hair gently before guiding your small hands to the piece of clothing covering his crotch. Getting the hint, you make quick work of untying his loincloth. Once his clothing falls to the ground and his cock springs free, you gulp audibly. The hand that had been caressing your head then moves, his thumb slides over your bottom lip ever so slowly before he slips his digit into your mouth. He traces the edges of your teeth. "Remember, good girls don’t use their teeth", he smiles down at you and you nod, eagerly.
Your hands then reach out to touch his cock. It twitches in your palms, too big for you to close your hands entirely around it. The realization alone made you feel uneasy and heat pools from your core and smears between your clenched thighs. Experimentally, you squeeze and stroke him before Tonowari guides your head closer, until he could feel your warm breath on the tip of his cock. First, you press a small kiss on top of it and Tonowari can’t help but huff out a breath, smiling at the precious sight before him.
He watches you with half lidded eyes, as you let saliva pool in your mouth and then stick your tongue out and let it drip down onto his tip. It makes his dick glisten, slippery with your saliva. You continue with dragging your tongue up the underside of his dick and he groans, relishing in the feeling of that wet, warm muscle against his hard length.
Those licks and kisses felt good, incredible even, but they were not nearly enough, not for how hard he was. But Tonowari was a patient man.
You drag the flat of your tongue up, the tip of it flicking just beneath the head of his cock. Tonowaris hips jerk at the sensation and he rolls his neck back with a groan. He tries to restrain himself– to restrain the urge to just flip you onto your stomach and fuck you senseless, make you scream his name for the whole village to hear.
Jake on the hand wasn’t exactly known for being very patient. The only times when he would willingly take it slow with you and show patient was, when he was teasing you.
Behind your back, you could hear him move. You can’t really see him like this, but you know he’s there, settling himself behind you. With a hand on your back he helps you in position –one hand on the floor and the other resting on Tonowari‘s strong thigh. With his own, he nudges your legs apart and makes room for him to kneel between them, so your bottom was hovering over his lap. His hands roam over your body, kneading your breasts and stroking over your back, where he then leaves wet kisses and love bites behind.
"Where do you want me, sweet girl?", he whispers and his breath against the wet spots, where he had kissed you on your spine, make goosebumps appear on your skin, "Inside that cute ass? Or that tight little pussy of yours, hm?"
You exhale a shaky breath, lips still close to the head of Tonowari’s cock as you answer him, "Inside my… my pussy, please." Your wish is answered by a dark chuckle coming from behind you and two large hands begin to spread your soft folds, revealing your entrance to him. "Can’t deny such a filthy request coming from such a pretty girl", he hums.
With his cock in hand, Jake carefully prods himself against your wet opening. "Focus on me", Tonowari tells you right before Jake pushes the head of his cock inside. You gasp as he stretches you, sinking into you ever so carefully and slow. It still stings, thanks to his inhuman size and girth. "It’s okay, just breathe", Tonowari coos above you, holding your head in his big palms, "You’re doing so well, so good for him. He’s almost in."
When Jake had finally, finally, thank eywa, bottomed out, with every merciless inch of his cock shoved deep inside you, you moan, already close to coming. The sound was heavenly to their ears and Jake can’t help it when he presses his hips even tighter against yours. You could feel the tip of his cock against your cervix and then a small sob escapes your lips. You clench around him as your first orgasm takes over you so unexpectedly fast. "Fucking hell, she’s coming already", Jake pants behind you, the grip he had on your hips increases, "That pussy of yours, jesus fuck! Sweetheart, you’re gonna be the death of me."
Jake allows your body a few seconds to adjust and brace yourself, before he pulls himself out all the way and then snaps his hips forward, pushing inside you in one go. The way his waist collides with your bottom emerges a loud and obscene smack and you whimper.
Tonowari in front of you was still patient. With his hands, he holds your head up, gives you enough leverage so you don’t fall face first against the floor. He enjoys watching you fall apart on Jakes cock with only a few of his thrusts. But his cock hangs heavy in the hair, leaking pre-cum and desperately waiting for you to continue where you had stopped.
"Go on, baby. Wouldn’t be very nice of you to leave that big boy hanging, hm?", Jake muses when he recognizes the look on the metkayina‘s face. "Y-Yes, sir." Obediently, you place your plump lips over the very tip of Tonowaris cock, tongue poking the salty slit, and his mouth falls open.
Yours does too, just a moment later when you hollow your cheeks and take him further into your mouth, just barely a few more inches. His hips were trembling with the effort to not hold your head still and just fuck your throat. Thankfully, a few especially hard thrusts of Jake had you take him even further inside, until you were gagging around him and could feel your second orgasm approach almost too fast for you to fully prepare yourself. You gag again as his thrusts push you further on Tonowari’s cock and you moan around him, loud and wanton and then you cum for the second time.
"That’s it, that’s the sound I wanna hear", Jake groans behind you
To the rhythm of Jake thrusts, you bob your head up and down, tongue glued to the hard length of Tonowari. He’s so far from being fully buried inside your mouth, the size difference was making it incredibly difficult, but he could feel you push yourself to your limit. You were making these wet noises that went straight to his dick and with your small hands, you stroke every inch your mouth couldn’t reach.
The sensation of hands all over you was overwhelming. Tonowari held your head up, one of his hands mindlessly stroking through your hair and holding them out of your face. Behind you was Jake, his tail affectionately wrapped around your thigh, while his hands were roaming all over your body. He switched between kneading your ass, to tugging on your sensitive nipples or simply holding your hips in a hard grip as he thrusts into you. You could feel your walls tighten once again, sucking him even further in, in an attempt to keep him there and when Jake brushes against your g-spot particularly hard, you fall apart again. This time, your legs almost give out under you and you’re glad for all the hands holding you steady.
Your eyes roll all the way back inside your head and you dare to close them for a brief moment and let yourself be taken over by the sensations, letting more drool collect in your mouth, to cover the cock that was sliding in and out alongside your tongue, and drip out the side of your mouth. "Open your eyes, little one", Tonowari groans above you and its followed by a throaty chuckle, "Can’t have you pass out on my cock."
You look up at him, tears picking at the corner of your eyes and you hum around his length, in place of a verbal response.
Your eyes widen even more, when you suddenly feel a pair over fingers glide between your folds and expertly find your clit.
"How many times did you come last night?", Jake asks so bluntly and unbothered, like he wasn’t currently fucking the very soul out of you. You can barely hear him over your own moans and the obscene sounds of you sucking Tonowari off. When Jake circles that little nub, you can slowly feel the familiar, addicting, tension building up in your core. Again.
"Hey, I asked you a question", he says sternly with a rough tap of his fingers to your clit, to which your knees buckle. You let your tongue glide along the underside of Tonowari’s cock as you slide him out of your mouth, the tip of it leaving your plump and spit slicked lips with a soft pop.
"Two or… or, oh fuck, three, I– I don't remember, sir", you manage to respond between heavy pants and moans and just to be mean, Jake circles your clit even faster. He was incapable of being as gentle as he wanted to be, as he needed to be, but the way you flourished beneath his rough touch, how you forced yourself to take more of both of their cocks into your tight little holes, undid him.
"Good. We‘ll make it four today, cupcake."
"Fuck Jake, I– I can’t take it, please that’s too much, can’t, I can’t!"
"You can, little one", Tonowari reassures you softly. With his thick cock in hand, he gently nudges the tip of it against your swollen lips, urging you to take him inside your mouth again and you despite your whining, you don’t hesitate to do so. "See? You’re always such a good girl for us. You can take it, I know you can."
"You really think we're that dense, don't you?” Jake tsks. The resentment in his tone doesn't match the amusement creeping into the edges of his features. "I think we know best what our precious girl is capable of, right? Think we know that sweet body of yours better than you do.” He tilts his head as if he's observing a rare specimen, his attention fixed on the way your soft, round cheeks jiggle with every thrust of his hips. He angles his own hips to brush against your g-spot expertly, while he rolls your slick covered clit in between his rough fingers. You moan around Tonowari’s cock so loud, they knew without doubt that even the last villager now knew what was going on in the olo’eyktan’s marui. And so, the knot inside your lower abdomen snaps. You come again, with a gush of slickness this time, that’s then slowly dripping down your thighs.
“Yeah, that does it every time", Jake groans as he feels you clench around him in a bruising grip. You steady yourself on Tonowari’s thigh, nails digging into his skin as a rush of pleasure surges through you the way waves crash on the shore —and that’s all it takes for him to cum, the vibrations of your moans around him sending him clean over the edge.
The olo’eyktan shudders, fist clenched tightly in your hair as he feels you swallow it all, throat folding around his cock. The motion itself makes him moan, praises as well as curses falling from his lips that you barely pick up over the sound of Jakes hips still snapping against yours. Slowly, he pulls away from your swollen, wet and reddened lips.
"I’m gonna cum, baby, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Gonna fill you up all the way and– fuck, you better keep it in there until I’ll fill you up again", Jake pants and his rhythm slowly begins to falter. You do your best to squeeze around him, pull him in and hold him right there until he can merely pull out of you for more than a few inches and his thrusts become short and deep and desperate.
Until all Jake feels is heat, that incredibly tight heat that squeezes and sucks him in, with the most obscene sounds he’s ever heard– and he’s done for. He’s flooding your core with warmth as he thrusts up into you, hard, for the final time. With a bruising grip on your hips, he holds you there and fills you up, until it leaks around his cock and flows down your thighs.
You nearly sob when he pulls away, leaving you feeling exposed and empty. An ache begins to settle over you as you come down from your high. Right when your legs finally give in on yourself, you feel a pair of big muscular arms lay themselves around you and suddenly, your face is pressed against a hard chest and legs swung around someone’s waist. "Good girl, did so well for us", Tonowari coos and you could feel the deep vibration of his voice inside his chest. You lazily throw your arms around his neck and burry your face in the space of his neck, before you close your eyes with a sigh. Behind you, Jake places soft kisses on your shoulder, right after you’ve felt the warmth of his body closing in against your back.
"I knew you could do it, baby. I‘m so proud of you", Jake hums against your skin and their soft praises slowly loll you to sleep, hugged tight in their arms. In the back of your mind, you were already excitingly thinking about the outcome of their next hunt. Was it mean to wish for another unsuccessful hunt again?
Well. May Eywa forgive you.
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GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader
CHAPTER FOUR: TWO NOTES AND A HEART DOWN
← prev chapter // next chapter →
✦ summary: in which eddie takes you for a trip down memory lane and you finally read the note. (wc: 9.4k+)
✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, argument </33, yelling, crying, mentions of sa (nothing happens) like its not brought up AT ALL it's insinuated like the tiniest bit, mean!eddie, kinda asshole-ish? pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, food!!
✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader, eddie munson x chrissy cunningham
✦ authors note — sorry for the wait but i hope a 9.4k chapter makes up for it omg! also feel free to chat with me in the asks abt this series (and anything tbh) pls!! not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!! ive been struggling with this chapter A LOT. its not at all how i wanted to write it but i was just tired of holding it off :// so hope u guys enjoy and this is like the last fluffy chapter lmao its all angst from here on (well kinda)
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His nose skimmed against yours, a mere breath away from the temptation of your soft lips, everything you’ve been wanting on the tip of your fingers.
But you couldn’t do that. It didn’t matter if he was sorry or if it was casual. Chrissy still existed. And he still kissed her in front of you.
Friends, is what he promised. And this was going to ruin it.
“Please, look at me,” he pleaded, you could hear the desperation in his voice. Your eyes blinked open slowly, how close he was to you had your eyes widened.
"I-I don't even know what's wrong with me," he breathed out. "I feel like...I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind, and I don’t even know what just happened,” he said in a strained voice.
“I-I just… I look at you, and I’m absolutely terrified.” He gulped. “It terrifies me that—” He stopped himself before he could spew out more.
It terrifies me how much I would do for you, he wishes to say, but he doesn’t, he can’t.
“I can’t—we shouldn’t be doing this." He stammered, quick to lean away from you.
“I-I know” You agreed hesitantly, because you knew this was a bad idea. But your stomach burned at the thought that he wanted to not kiss you because of Chrissy. Was he actually going to be with her now? Did he lie about things being casual?
“Do you…” You took a deep breath, “do you like her?” Your voice was strained, it was barely above a whisper, but Eddie heard you loud and clear.
Your heart rate picked up quicker than you intended it to, you leaned further away from him, your mouth flooded with a bitter taste.
“No!” His eyes widened, he answered it so quickly that the idea that he was lying sank further into you.
“No, I-I don’t know… I just-” He breathed. “We agreed to being friends… We should keep it that way, and I can’t keep doing this,” he stammered. “I need to stop hanging on to the past.”
“but, fuck. Each time, I try to, you just… prevent it!” He admitted, without realizing the weight his words held, your brows pinched quickly.
“I prevent it?” You enunciated with an exasperated chuckle.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mumbled under your breath as your body turned away from him, elbows holding onto the edge of the pool as you swiftly lifted yourself up.
Eddie just looked at you, baffled. “Do you realize how unbelievable you are?” You spat, looking down on him with your hair still wet and your dress uncomfortably stuck to your body.
“What are you talking about?” He gave you a puzzled look.
“Nevermind,” you huffed, facing away from him.
Eddie groaned, following you as he exited the pool swiftly. “Why do you even care?” He asked, breathless. Taking another step closer toward you.
“I don’t,” you lied with a gulp. You were a bad liar. And Eddie knew that.
“You don’t?” He narrowed his gaze, giving you a second chance to open up, but he knew you were too stubborn.
“I don’t.”
He huffed. “Fine.”
“That…” He paused, “was a mistake.” You could feel that horrible ache in your chest return. Sure it was a bad idea, but a mistake?
Did he really hate you that much?
“What does that mean?” You swallowed hard. Your heart was breaking the more he spoke, you wanted nothing more than to shut him up.
“It means we-I shouldn’t have done that,” he corrected himself with a tinge of disappointment in his tone. But what exactly did he mean by that? Did he mean that the almost-kiss was a mistake because it could ruin your potential friendship? Or did he mean it in a way that suggested he liked Chrissy?
Those words were enough to have your heart drop into your gut; your whirlwind of thoughts were mocking you, the idea that Eddie had a chance of liking her was eating away at you, and all you could do was stand there and watch it all unravel.
You parted your lips to speak, but all that could come out was a weak mutter of, “okay.” You turned your back on him quickly, picking up your jacket from the ground. You put it on in a struggle, fighting back the tears that were pricking your eyes.
“What are you doing?” He asked with a puzzled look, and you refused to look back at him before your feet picked up. He didn’t seem to realize why his answer truly crushed you.
“I-I’m going home.” Your voice was barely audible; there was a lump sitting in your throat, causing your breathing to stammer.
“With what exactly?” He huffed, following behind you.
“I don’t know,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. “I’ll figure it out… I always do, don’t I?” You shrugged.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I won’t let you walk alone like this. You could catch a cold, or something could happen to you, Pinky." His voice was laced with concern, brows furrowed as he hurried to your side.
“I don’t care,” you muttered with an emotionless expression.
“I do!”
“Do you?”
“Of course I do!” He spat. “Please, don’t do something stupid and reckless. I can take you home,” he mumbled with a huff. There was no fucking way he’d let you walk home alone.
“And I have a towel in my car,” he added, you slightly huffed. It was chilly, your dress was soaking, and he was right. There was no way you could get home without him. At least until you were willing to freeze off or get hauled by whatever was roaming in the forest.
You followed him to the car with a simple nod, Eddie still failed to notice why you had gotten so upset, not realizing the implications his words held.
-
By the time you got into the car, you were shivering, faintly muttering a ‘Thanks’ to Eddie as he wrapped the towel around you, brows creasing with worry, but he didn’t know what to say to you.
Usually, he wouldn’t have let it go; he would’ve tried to get it out of you and ask you if you were okay, but when you were this upset, it was no use.
The ride was silent except for the faint sound of Eddie’s mixtape filling the space between the two of you. He had asked if you had anything specific you wanted to listen to, but you shut him off with a faint shake of your head.
Your heart was aching. Like he had just ripped open your chest and taken it without a care, not noticing how tight he had been squeezing and releasing it. As if he were toying with it.
And you felt nauseous. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t get a chance to eat all day or because of that mocking thought in your head that told you that Eddie wanted Chrissy.
Once your stomach grumbled, your question was quickly answered, your cheeks heated up as you crossed your arms against your chest in an attempt to shut it up. Eddie gave you a slight chuckle. “Munchies?” He chuckled. “Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asked with a reassuring smile.
“I just wanna go home,” you grumbled as your gaze refused to meet his. “C’mon,” he muttered with a huff. “Do you even have anything to eat at home?” He asked all-knowingly. You shook your head, you didn’t; your fridge was empty; it was late, so you couldn’t get any groceries; not to mention, your messy kitchen was in no condition to cook.
“Are burgers still your favorite food?” Your face unintentionally lit up at that; he was definitely thinking about Benny’s, and your mouth-watered just at the idea of their cheeseburgers.
“Benny’s?” You asked with an involuntary smile on your cheeks, and Eddie swallowed a deep breath. That curve of your goddamn plump lips was driving him crazy.
“Yeah, do you want to go?” He muttered slowly. “O-okay,” you mumbled.
First the Wheeler House, then Billy’s stupid camaro, then the pool, this goddamn van, that mixtape, and now Benny's... this whole day had been a nostalgic mind fuck for you. You couldn’t complain, though; no matter how upset his words made you, you were still so pathetically happy to spend some time with him, ecstatic that he didn’t let you go.
And so was Eddie. That’s why he had been holding his tongue back; he wanted to know why you cared so much about Chrissy. Sure, what she did with Billy was horrible. But it didn’t make sense. There had to be something he didn’t know.
By the time you guys arrived at Benny's, it was past midnight, so, the place wasn’t packed, of course, but surprisingly, there were still a lot of tables besides the two of you. Eddie let out an ‘Aha!’ sound once his eyes caught the booth that was nestled in the corner.
The same one the two of you always shared. The white light loomed over its padded, dark maroon seat, and you slid onto it with a huff. Your senses were immediately greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of toasted buns. The air was infused with a disgusting smell of frying oil, but all of it smelled irresistible to your growling stomach.
Once the two of you got situated, Benny was quick to rush to your side. “Welcome to Benny’s, what can I get you—”
"Oh my god!" Benny's eyes widened, his face breaking into a wide grin. "Didn't expect to see you! Jesus, how long has it been?" He chuckled, his memory working overtime.
A smile adorned your face, Benny had always been nice to you and to Eddie, giving you one too many free meals, always telling you that it was not an issue despite your protests, knowing of your absentee parents, just like the rest of the town did.
“Very long,” you added with a chuckle, “missed your cheeseburgers.” You pouted.
"Yeah?" Benny's excitement was palpable. "Mmhmm, nowhere in New York does it as good as Benny's," you hummed sweetly.
"Now, you're just butterin' me up!" Benny dismissed with a chuckle, eliciting a warm smile from you.
"But, New York, huh?" Benny inquired, raising an intrigued brow. "I've seen this one around, a lot, even last week." His finger pointed toward Eddie, prompting your brows to furrow.
Last week?
“So that's why you weren’t with him.” He added, realization dawning on his face. Eddie was quick to shoot a painful gaze toward you, one that almost said, ‘no, she wasn’t with me because she left me’, You didn’t know how it was possible to share a language just through your shared gaze, but it had you physically gulping.
“Uh-uh, yeah,” you mumbled, your gaze avoiding Eddie’s.
“I gotta say though…” He leaned down, almost like he was telling the two of you a secret, “It’s really nice seeing the two of you together, again.” Benny said with a sly smirk.
“‘Bout damn time y’all got together,” He teased further.
Your eyes widened in unison, both sets of cheeks warming before you spoke up.
“Oh, no—” You were quick to dismiss with your hands.
“We’re not—” Eddie joined in your protests.
“So, what can I get for you, lovebirds?” He hummed casually, ignoring both of your protests. Your eyes locked before both of you shyly avoided each other’s gaze. “The usual?”
“Uh-uh, yeah," Eddie grumbled, suddenly more interested in the wooden table.
When Benny turned toward you, “same for her, but with extra pickles.” Eddie said almost automatically, your brows pinched together and Eddie mentally cursed himself, “I-I mean… if that’s still your order…” His words smushed together, cheeks quick to heat crimson red.
“It-it is," you mumbled.
“Alright, comin’ right up,” he threw a wink at the two of you, clueless of the awkwardness apparent in the air.
It was stupid, all this back and forth all day. You weren’t kids anymore; you should have been able to just be friends and hang out, not fight. Yet, somehow, it had spiraled into a seemingly impossible situation.
Talking it out wasn’t going to do anything. If the two of you wanted any chance to salvage whatever your relationship was, you needed to talk about the bigger picture; everything needed to be spilled out. But neither of you wanted to do that.
Unspoken feelings were lingering, and none of you knew when they would boil over. Both of you desperately wanted to cling to the promise of being friends and make the most of it.
There were a lot of things you could say to him; you could choose to talk about Chrissy, you could choose to talk about L.A.; hell, you could choose to talk about his nerdy game, but your curiosity got the best of you, and before you could help it, the words spilled out of your mouth. “What were you doing here last week?”
Eddie was almost taken aback by your question, not expecting you to be curious about him again after icing him out for so long. “I like coming here,” he shrugged. “Whenever I’m in Hawkins, I drop by, you know, to write some stuff.”
“Here?” Your face scrunched, finding it hard to believe that a greasy diner could ever be inspiring.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “most of our second album was produced in this bad boy.”
"Are you serious?” Your brows raised, “and the rest of the band is just okay following you here?" You narrowed your gaze playfully, your hands finding a resting place on the worn wooden table.
Eddie’s mouth twitched with a smile. “Yeah, actually, they’ve gotten pretty used to it,” he confessed, “you-uh… I don’t know if you ever got to listen to the second one-”
"I did," you interrupted, voice resolute.
“Y-you did?”
“Of course.”
Eddie hesitated before asking, "What did you think of it?"
“Great record, are you kidding me? It had such a unique sound… You know, like, a timeless quality that makes it stand out?” You said excitedly, and he nodded with a raised brow, “that much?” He asked hesitantly.
“I’m not kidding, Eddie. You know how I don’t pull punches with music; if it wasn’t good, I’d tell you in a heartbeat.”
"Which one's your favorite?" Eddie asked, his curiosity piqued.
You pondered for a second before answering, "oh, definitely Aurora!"
Eddie's shaggy bangs fell onto his forehead as he leaned closer, listening intently. "I mean, 'I just kinda died for you, you just kinda stared at me' is genius," you said, your voice filled with admiration. You didn't dare look him in the eyes.
"And really, really sad," you continued, a hint of melancholy in your tone. "The idea that you could give the whole world to someone, to the point where you describe it as dying, and they don’t even see it... it sounds awfully painful." You gulped, your eyes fixed on the worn wooden table. You weren’t stupid; you knew why it was named Aurora; you knew what the lyrics were alluding to.
His car. The same car that the two of you drove around in. The same car drove the two of you out of Hawkins.
You knew he liked you way before he let you on, and you wish you knew.
Maybe if you weren’t dating that douchebag, maybe if Eddie said something sooner, maybe if everything that happened when the two of you left didn’t happen… Maybe just maybe, the two of you’d be together now.
Maybe if the timing was just right, it wouldn’t be like this; he wouldn’t have whatever he had with Chrissy. You wouldn’t have been in New York.
But what were you supposed to say? What could you say that would change all of this? Even if you told him about what Chrissy did, even if you explained why you had to leave him in L.A., there was no use. The truth couldn't turn back time. You two had ventured down different paths, and it was painfully evident.
He wasn’t the Eddie you knew, and you weren’t the Pinky he knew; it was too fucking late.
Eddie's mouth hung open in surprise; he hadn't expected you to delve into the song's meaning like this. Aurora was one of the heaviest songs he had ever written, and he held a special attachment to it. The label and the rest of the band had embraced it, which was surprising since they usually rejected his heartbreak songs, wanting more of that unbridled rage.
He didn’t answer you; there was a weird tension between the two of you again, so you diffused it with, “but kinda lame that you decided to name a song after your car,” while eyeing Eddie to gauge his reaction.
Eddie chuckled. “Oh, bite me,” he teased, "but yeah, that one was also written here, in that same spot you were sitting.”
“Shut up!” You said, hand playfully reaching out to nudge him.
"And to your question... I can't tell you why I was here last week," Eddie confessed, his voice carrying a hint of mystery.
Your stomach twisted at that, and you didn't know how many more punch-in-the-gut revelations you could handle today. "Why- uhh- why not?" You asked hesitantly, your words stuttering over simple syllables.
"Because then I'd be spoiling the note, dummy," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
A deep breath of relief escaped your stomach, and you chuckled. God, he was a douche. "Wait... so does that mean... I have a song in my pocket?"
"Not exactly."
"I'm the first one to see it, huh?" You asked excitedly, hand teasingly dipping into your pocket.
"You and the rest of the band," Eddie huffed, offering a sheepish grin.
You gave him a quick glare. “You know I could leak this to the press and make millions, right? No more dealing with rude customers, and no more nine to five hours stuck in a record shop?”
He narrowed his gaze. "You can't get shit for that," he mockingly retorted.
"What?" You frowned.
"Yeah, it's basically like the first chorus and some gibberish notes, it's worthless," Eddie explained.
You pouted. "Aww, damn it."
"I'm kidding, I'm excited to read it,” you reassured with a wink, “you know… Maybe I could give you some notes on it? Review it?" You suggested.
“Didn’t know you were a musician.”
“Rude!” You huffed, “I may not be a musician, rockstar. But I sell records for a living. I can promise you, I listened to many more records than you did this year.” You said with a playful smirk.
"How's that like?" Eddie asked curiously, his deep brown eyes resembling longing and curiosity.
You leaned back against the cushioned booth, letting out a wistful sigh. "Working at a record store? A rollercoaster,” you chuckled, “lame in some ways, but also incredibly fascinating. New York's a whole different world compared to Hawkins."
Eddie couldn't help but study your face as you spoke. He noticed the faint traces of insecurity in the way you held yourself—an air of loneliness that came with moving away from everyone you knew and your family leaving you.
"But also, it took me a while to get used to it," you continued. "Nancy and Jonathan used to visit me a lot; they've really helped me adjust.”
“And you know, of course, Robin and Steve, too,” you murmured.
Eddie’s brows shot up at that. So everyone but him.
It was a sting he couldn't quite shake, burning at his skin, that you decided to abandon him but were fine with everyone else, including Steve.
Your absence in his life had left a void he couldn't fill, ever.
Yet, here you were, replacing him like it was nothing.
Eddie knew he had no right to be jealous; you two were just friends, right? But it ate away at him; that feeling seeped through him, even though you were never his to begin with.
His face burned, and his jaw clenched involuntarily. He could almost feel the taste of bitter jealousy in his mouth, considering how it was overtaking his senses. “Steve?” He questioned; gaze seeping through you, an unbrittled rage ready to tip at any moment.
You didn’t seem to notice it, though. For someone who was usually very perceptive, it flew right by you—that slight tick in his jaw, the way his fists curled, the storm raging beneath the surface.
“Yeah,” you murmured, his head turned away from you, gaze fixed on anything but your face. The other corners of the burger place was suddenly very interesting to him as he grappled with his own emotions.
“It’s pretty crowded in here, right?” you remarked, trying to draw Eddie into the conversation and gauge his mood.
“Uh-huh,” Eddie replied, his gaze remained distant, thoughts elsewhere.
Concern etched across your face as you pressed further, “Uh, are you okay?” Something seemed to be bothering Eddie, and you couldn't pin-point what it was.
“‘M fine,” he dismissed with a wave of his hands.
He had to distract you and do something else because he was being super fucking weird, and you weren’t dumb; you could read him like a book.
He didn’t want that awkwardness or tension to reappear; he wanted to talk to you freely, he couldn’t let his insecurities ruin this for him.
Eddie’s attention turned back to you, “is that what you want to do with your life?” his brows raised, “The record store, I mean.” He didn’t want to sound rude, he just wanted to know more.
“I don’t know… I never had much time to think about it.” You gave him a small smile, shaking your head gently, “also, I can’t really afford to think about it anyway.”
“But what do you want to do?” He probed.
“Anything concerning art… I mean I’d love to be a tattoo artist, too. That’s the likely path I’m going down, dunno if the salary is good enough, though.” You shrugged, “but you know what I’d love to be?” Eddie leaned closer, his eagerness clear.
“What?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.
“Someone came in like a month ago, this bearded guy with lots of tattoos… We had a new album coming to our store that day, and he wanted to see them,” you mumbled with a warm smile, eyes glistening with a dreamy glow. “Then he told me about how he was a tattoo artist, but helped make some of the cover art for that album, and then something just like clicked in me.”
“I used to draw with the hope that maybe it could connect with someone, you know, like it did with me… I spent half of my childhood drawing and listening to music as an outlet. Whenever my parents left, whenever they were absent in my life despite ‘being there’, or whenever they had a screaming match, plates thrown at each other, the first thing I did was sketch, anything, on the notebook.” You mumbled, “or I listened to a record, and I let it consume me, in the hopes that it would drive me away from reality, diffuse the pain, even for a split second, and it worked,” you said with a simple smile.
Eddie hung on to your every word, his gaze never wavering, admiring that creative spirit shining in you. “Art and music shift the world in the best way possible, and maybe it is dramatic but it also saves lives in a way, you know, by helping you get through something, or making you forget. And that’s my biggest wish… to have my art be important to someone, to make them feel like they’re not alone, in any way possible. So when I saw how that guy combined music and art like that, I thought, this is fucking perfect, this is what I need to do.”
Eddie’s brows pinched together, “why haven’t you done it?” he asked, his voice a soothing lilt that could melt any doubts away. He could listen to you talk about your passions for hours, the way your eyes glistened with hope, that little quirk of your brow did when you found something interesting, it was heavenly to him.
“C’mon Eds, be realistic,” you murmured sadly. “Half the people that work for a good record company or with a good band have fancy art degrees, they have connections, they have the money, the time to do it. No one’s going to want a nobody who doesn’t even have a college degree from a small town.” Your lips pressed into a thin line.
“Bullshit,” he spat quickly, dismissing the way you so quickly diminished yourself, “I was the trailer trash of Hawkins, and look what happened,” he encouraged in a harsh but also a warm manner, leaning closer.
“Yeah, but you’re also a guy, Eddie.” Your voice wavered as you pointed out, “t-they have different expectations for women who don’t have those connections, or don’t come from like insanely rich parents… If you know what I mean,” you said with disgusted frowning upon your face, chill running down your spine.
Eddie immediately picked it up, his face growing to one of concern, “W-wait-” his voice quivered, the color drained from his face quickly, you immediately knew what he was implying and shook your head, “no, no, not me! But I heard lots of stories in New York, it’s just disgusting,” your face scrunched.
“That’s awful,” Eddie’s jaw clenched in anger, he knew there were a lot of scumbags in the industry, and it pissed him off that he could do nothing about it. He already felt guilty enough that he didn’t realize what a narcissistic asshole Billy really was, he wanted to help any way he could.
And then, like a sudden light bulb went off in his head, an idea illuminated his mind. “Have I ever told you that our record company is in need of a new art director?” He pouted teasingly.
Your eyebrows shot up as a giggle escaped your lips. "You're funny," you said, playfully skeptical.
Eddie, ever earnest, replied, "I'm serious."
“I-I can't do that," you said shyly, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress.
Eddie leaned in, and retorted with a, “and why not?"
“It-it feels wrong, and you don’t even know if I’d be good-“ you hesitated, not fully convinced if this was a good idea.
“Bullshit,” Eddie countered firmly, a small smile gracing his lips. “I know how great your art is, and I know how much you care about music, the way you describe it is exactly the reason why I love it so much.” Eddie always took you seriously and encouraged you about your dreams, no matter how unrealistic it was.
“You know what you said earlier about how you wanted your art to matter to someone?” You nodded, eyes glistening with hope.
“Your art is important to me, Pinky. The ones you sketched in your notebooks, is what helped me write some of my lyrics. The drawings you made when you were bored in class, the ones I have hung up on my wall still at the trailer… they mean so much to me,” he said in a hushed voice, he dragged his arm on the table, quick to point to the tattoo on his forearm. “This tattoo, is what helped with Corroded Coffin’s symbol bats, you do realize that, right?”
Skeptical, you scoffed, "you guys always had bats as your thing."
“True,” he agreed, “but your design helped bring it to life.” He shrugged, “and you know the band better than anyone, maybe you could help us with our next album cover, too. I don’t think I could find someone more perfect for the job.” Eddie shrugged and smiled warmly.
“But-”
Your protests were gently silenced by Eddie, who insisted with a soft determination, “No but’s, just say yes, please.” His voice was sweet, sickingly sweet, you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to, and this was the perfect opportunity.
“I mean I’ll just have a talk with them, show them some of your stuff, so, no promises. But I can be very, very persuasive,” he teased, a wink thrown your way.
You stammered, the excitement bubbling within you. "Y-you'd do that for me?” He nodded surely, “even after everything that happened?" Your tone was muffled, laced with insecurity.
"Anything for you," Eddie reassured as he leaned closer, that familiar, small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
With your heart aflutter, you finally agreed, excitement breaking through the barriers of your insecurities. "If—if you really are okay with it, I-I'd love to."
“Of course,” he affirmed.
“Alright!” Benny chimed in, interrupting the two of you. “Two cheeseburgers with a side of fries, and two milkshakes.” He hummed, settling the food in front of both sets of hungry eyes.
“Enjoy, lovebirds!” He said with a smirk, sauntering away to the kitchen.
“Thank you!” Both of you exclaimed with happiness as you dug into the food.
As you munched on the crispy fries, you admired the other tables, each one occupied by a slice of life that you couldn't help but find intriguing.
One table was for a family of four. All you could hear was the distressed children, their whining echoed through the restaurant. The parents looked drained, faces etched with exhaustion as they juggled plates of half-eaten food, desperately trying to calm down and distract their kids.
Another table was occupied by a couple who was in a heated argument. The man wore a scowl, voice raised in anger, while the woman looked like she was about to cry, her eyes pleading for understanding.
But the last table was the one that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, it brought a smile to your face. “Oh my god, look,” you said in a hushed voice, gaze pointing toward the booth that was nested in the far right corner.
Eddie was already face-first into his food, “later, ’m eating.” He grumbled. You poked your tongue out at him playfully. “Jesus… Forgot how grumpy you get when you are hungry,” you hummed, flinging a fry in his direction, causing him to pause mid-bite and chuckle.
“Oh, you don't wanna play that game with me, sweetheart,” he teased, dangling a fry in front of your face.
You grinned, your eyes dancing with excitement. “Just one look, and I’ll be out of your curly unbrushed hair, Munson,” you joked with a giggle.
His eyes rolled quickly, “you won’t stop until you get what you want, will you?” He asked with an annoyed tilt of his head.
You shook your head with a giggle. “Fine,” he huffed jokingly, dipping the fry in his hand into the vanilla milkshake, making an exaggerated sound of satisfaction as he devoured it.
“Gross.” You commented with mock disgust, and he rolled his eyes in response.
“Just tell me which table.” Eddie leaned in, his curiosity piqued as your gaze moved toward the couple at the adjacent booth. The girl was wearing a plaid mini skirt, expertly paired with a statement crop-top covered by an oversized leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders, likely borrowed from the curly-haired brunette sitting on the opposite side of the booth.
Her head was thrown back, and laughter danced in her eyes as she hung on to every word of the story he was telling. The curly haired brunette guy had a graphic band-tee and a guitar pick adorning his neck. Mascara smudged and eyes all red; you knew they probably had a long night.
It reminded him of something, or rather, someone.
He looked at you with his brows scrunched up, and you replied to him with a giggle. Both of you were thinking the same thing.
“That’s fuckin’ weird.” Eddie mumbled with a mouthful of his juicy cheeseburger. “Are those our… doppelgangers?”
“Right?” You almost mirrored him, taking a bite from your cheeseburger as you leaned further on your elbows. “What do you think their story is?”
“Uhhh-” Eddie grumbled, “us from five years ago?” His mouth partially obscured by the burger as he chewed thoughtfully, a furrow in his brow.
“Such a detailed story!” You mocked. He couldn't help but notice how the dim diner lighting accentuated your features—plump lips looking so soft from the way you frustratingly groaned—which brought an unintentional smile to his face.
You were so breathtakingly pretty; even when you were munching on a burger, he was absolutely whipped.
Eddie shrugged, that shit-eating grin still on his face. He looked you dead in the eye before he took another big bite, stuffing more fries into his mouth.
“Fine, I’ll give them a story,” you narrowed your gaze, “and you can keep eating your gross milkshake dipped fries,” you mocked, straightening up your back as you leaned closer, licking your lips before you spoke.
“So the girl… she’s pretty, like really, really pretty.” You said with a sly grin, your gaze now focused on the couple in question; if he wasn’t going to participate, then you could just drag this further.
“And there’s the guy." You gestured toward the other booth, gaze narrowing as you turned back to Eddie. “He’s just... there, I guess, kind of looks like a douche,” you mocked, mouth scrunching as you looked at Eddie all-knowingly, head tilted to the side.
Eddie scoffed, responding with a lighthearted yet passionate defense of himself. “He looks like a total stud,” he grumbled in between bites with a smirk, “and that band-tee? He’s so fuckin’ cool.”
“Oh, yeah?” You challenged, “I think he’s a total nerd, bet he’s telling his dorky D&D stories to his best friend.”
He stuck his tongue out, a carefree grin on his face, “Hey! You said you loved my campaigns!” He exclaimed and playfully tossed a soggy fry at you.
You gasped dramatically, reaching for another fry to retaliate before Eddie’s unreadable expression had you frozen. “Shit, I totally forgot, what time is it?”
“Oh, you’re not getting away with that, Munson, we’re in a full fledged food war now,” you teased, holding a fry aloft, your gaze narrowing in mock seriousness.
“No, no, I’m serious.” Eddie insisted, causing you to huff in response. You turned your back to try to read the old-fashioned clock that stood on the wall.
“Uh… 1.15, why?” you replied, your brows furrowed in confusion, trying to understand him.
“Shit! Shit, shit!” He cursed, getting up quickly while he started gathering his things.
“What?” You asked with a puzzled look.
“Wayne!” He exclaimed making you furrow your brows.
“What about Wayne?”
“I promised to pick him up after his shift,” he explained with a sigh. “You know, since I kinda have the car.”
"Well, when did it end?” you inquired, still calm as you took another bite from your burger.
He eyed you with urgency. “15 minutes ago,” grumbling, he shoved whatever was left of his food into his mouth.
“So, I’m going to see Wayne?” You asked with a smile.
“If we don’t hurry up, you’re going to see me dead,” he exclaimed dramatically, making you roll your eyes.
“You need to inhale all of that, now!” He screeched, and you looked up at him with a pout.
“Now!” He snapped, hands clapping in front of your face.
“Okay, okay, jesus!” You groaned, taking a deep breath, before you shoved a generous handful of fries in your mouth.
-
When Eddie led you to the car, all you could think about was how Wayne would react—would he be mad at you? Would he be disappointed?
Goosebumps appeared when a chill ran down your spine, you didn’t know if you could handle it. Wayne had been a staple in your life up until you left, he fed you, he listened to you when you needed it, he gave you a place to sleep, and he always reassured you that you were always welcome in their home.
And you didn’t even bother to say goodbye to him. Not that you didn’t want to; it’s because you couldn’t. When you and Eddie left, it was in a hurry. You had no time to tell anyone, not even Eddie told Wayne until you two were half-way there to California.
But it still didn’t stop your guilt, it still didn’t help the way your stomach twisted at the mention of his name.
Your feet picked up quickly as the thoughts filled your head, only stopping when Eddie called out to you. “I have to tell you somethin’” Eddie mumbled, eyes squeezing shut.
A huff of air was quick to escape your lips, you knew it was too perfect to end like this, you knew he was going to ruin it.
“She-uh… she’s coming to brunch tomorrow.”
You froze in place, almost everything fit like a puzzle in your mind now, and you didn’t know which emotion to feel first.
Anger, jealousy, or sadness.
And all three of them hit you at the same time. Because it made sense now, it was clear. He liked Chrissy. He wanted Chrissy.
He wanted to move on with her.
He had your heart in his hands, but this time he wasn’t toying with it; he was stomping on it, over and over again, not stopping until he was sure it was beyond salvageable.
Hand almost frozen in the place you opened the car door without a word, settling into the passenger seat like nothing had happened.
“Shit,” he cursed under his breath before he opened his side of the door, getting inside swiftly just to turn to you, “are you not gonna say anything?” he asked, voice carrying a desperate tone.
Your gaze remained fixed outside the window, your cheek pressed against the cool glass. “We’re going to be late,” you replied with a cold, unfeeling tone. Silence filled the car, mirroring the gaping void that now existed between you two.
Thankfully, Aurora didn’t give him any trouble when he started the ignition with a key turn, and the engine roared to life. You didn’t want to speak; you didn’t want to say anything to him. You wanted to save all of your emotions, contain them in the depths of your mind, and cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t want him to know how much this crushed you.
But you couldn’t just do that; too disappointed to let it slide, the words escaped your mouth like a dam breaking, “I can’t fucking believe you.”
“Just, listen, I-I didn’t even invite her-” Eddie tried to explain, but you weren't listening, you didn’t care, you were letting it all out.
“How would you fucking feel if I kissed… Jason in front of you?” Eddie opened his mouth to answer, but you continued, “how would you feel if I invited him to brunch tomorrow?
Once you took a deep breath to gather your thoughts, he scoffed. “That’s not the same thing, Pinky. Carver made my life a living hell, he was a miserable bully.”
You should tell him, you should tell him what exactly Chrissy did to you.
You should tell him the whole story of that night at Steve’s party.
The part he didn’t know.
But you don’t.
Because you’re too busy to worry about whether he actually wants to be with her or not, your mind felt full, anxieties and worries dancing around in it.
“And Chrissy kissed Billy!” Your mouth dried up when that name left your mouth, you could feel that dreadful feeling consuming your chest.
That night was still a blur to you—the way you caught them, the things Chrissy said to you, the way Billy swore that she initiated the kiss.
Eddie shook his head. “She said it was a misunderstanding.”
You rubbed your fingertips on your forehead in disbelief. “And you believe her over me?” you asked, tone carrying a tinge of hurt and betrayal. The question hung heavy between the two of you.
“No, no!” He yelled out. “Jesus fucking Christ, stop putting words in my mouth, Pinky!” Eddie groaned in frustration, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “She explained it was a misunderstanding, and she does want to tell you that, too… maybe you could talk to her—”
You let out an exasperated chuckle, not interested in entertaining the idea. “no fucking way.”
“If you want to be with her, then just fucking say that, Munson, don’t do all this fuckin’ bullshit,” you added, crossing your arms against your chest.
“I don’t want- oh, you’re unbelievable!” He snapped, head bumping against the headrest of his van.
“You make it fucking impossible to start over!”
“Wh-what does that even mean?” You retorted back.
“J-just when I’m about to start over, just when I-I’m going to…” He rolled his tongue inside of his cheek in rage as he paused to better explain himself.
“I find a picture of you in my wallet that you put… or, or Nancy and Jonathan tell me that you invited them over…” You were on the brink of retorting when he continued, “or, or, you- you just barge back into town like you never left; talk to me like nothing fuckin’ happened.”
You didn’t dare to open your mouth; everything he said made you feel guilty. But everything he felt, you felt, too. Each time you felt like moving on, each time you wanted to try to be with someone, you physically couldn’t.
Maybe it was selfish that you liked hearing him feel the same way too. That’s why the way he was being so vague about whatever he had with Chrissy was like a stab to your heart, in the most non-dramatic way possible.
“You know… I used to think you were the best thing that ever happened to me… I used to think that you w-would always be in my life. That you’d be the one fuckin’ person who’d never leave me.” Eddie's voice trembled, and your throat was quick to tighten, lump forming as his words began to sink in. It felt like the car grew darker the more he spoke, your world crumbling down with it.
“I was wrong about all of that... all you fuckin’ did was ruin it… You ruined my life.”
The faint strains of heavy metal playing on the car's stereo seemed distant, before you spoke up, wobbly lips slurring your words. “I… I r-ruined your life?” You slumped back on your seat with his words slicing through you like a knife, gnawing at your insecurities.
“Y-you really think that?” Words barely escaped your lips, voice quivering.
He opened his plushy lips to speak, but he couldn’t answer; words died down in his throat, his gaze fixated on the road, lips pressed into a tight line.
That in itself was an answer, you knew it, and he knew it. You felt exposed to him, like he knew your insecurities but still did nothing to hide them.
You couldn't help but feel a hot prickle behind your eyes, the unshed tears were getting harder to hold back. You bit back on your wobbly lip, in an attempt to conceal the pent-up emotions that were begging to be let out. “This… this whole thing was a mistake,” you murmured, voice hushed and heavy with regret. The words felt like stones in your mouth, bitter and unpalatable.
“We-we were caught up in ourselves, ther-there’s no fuckin’ way we could ever be friends,” you continued, driving home the painful truth, just so you could hurt him like he hurt you, just so you didn’t want him to know how pathetically you still wanted to be with him in any way possible.
“I agree,” he grumbled, eyes still on the road. Tears streamed down your cheeks, tracing glistening paths along your cheeks, you didn’t even attempt to wipe them. Sniffles punctuated the air, body shuddering with an attempt to suppress your sobs, but then again, they were drowned out by the heavy metal music that echoed in the car.
Eddie’s gaze fell on you every few seconds; but you didn’t seem to notice. And the guilt ate away at him, too, his brows furrowed in agony. He knew that wasn’t what he meant to say. He didn’t mean it in that way, you didn’t ruin his life; you never could—well, not until you left him.
His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel; this wasn’t how everything was supposed to happen. He didn’t even invite Chrissy; she asked to come, and of course Eddie said yes, what else could he do? So he just wanted to give you a heads up. Just so things wouldn’t get bad between the two of you again, but he managed to screw it up.
Grumbles and some curses were all the two of you could hear when Eddie pulled up to Wayne’s workplace. With a huff of breath, your car door hung open. “I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes, rockstar; you better have some good fuckin’ excuse-” Wayne’s eyes widened the second his gaze met your sad figure.
“Jesus H. Christ!” Wayne exclaimed as if seeing a ghost. “Am I seein' that right? Is that who I think it is?” Despite the heartache gnawing at your insides, you managed a smile.
"Hi, Wayne," you mumbled shyly. Wayne, however, wasn't having it. "Oh, you're not gettin' off with a simple 'hey,' come over here, kid!" He said excitedly, pulling you into a bear-hug. The embrace was tight enough to make you giggle and sniffle, an unfamiliar smile on your lips.
“Where the hell have ya been?” Wayne inquired once he let you go.
You tried to get up, offering him the front seat, he shook his head, hands holding you down by your shoulders, not wanting to interrupt the two of you.
You told him about everything—New York, your job, how you got here. Everything.
And all Eddie did was drive; he didn’t look at you or even Wayne for all that mattered—not a single glance. And of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Wayne.
“Alright, kids, you two are bein' weird…” Wayne grumbled, glancing at Eddie. “Tell me what the hell happened. Some kind of lover's quarrel?” Eddie scoffed, and you couldn't help but snap your head in his direction.
"Somethin' funny, boy?" Wayne added, narrowing his gaze at his niece. Eddie sighed but still avoided both of your gazes.
“No, no, uhh- nothing happened.” He murmured.
Your gaze narrowed, and you couldn’t help the anger inside of you. “That’s funny, that is not how I remember it.”
Wayne’s brows furrowed before he leaned closer to the front seat. “What happened, P? You know you can always tell me anythin’” he murmured with a reassuring tone.
Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you ignored him, “he is with Chrissy,” you said, scrunching your face as you turned to gauge Wayne's reaction.
Wayne's brows tilted together, his eyes narrowing as he tried to remember that name. “You remember her? Strawberry blonde hair and-”
“The blondie that made you cry?” you nodded, “with that Hargrove kid?”
“See, even Wayne remembers,” you grumbled, slightly elbowing Eddie to get a reaction out of him, only earning an offended huff.
“I never liked him, you know,” Wayne continued, large hands gesturing vaguely to emphasize his point, “always thought you were way too good for him. A guy like him has no business with my Pinky.” You leaned further into the headrest, fingers fiddling with your jacket as you gave Wayne a weak smile.
“Should’ve listened to you,” you hummed.
“So Eddie is with her?” Wayne mumbled, face souring.
“Boy, have you lost your damn mind?” Wayne was quick to chide Eddie, who was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in an attempt to not snap at either of you.
But it wasn’t working.
"I told you I'm not with her!" he hissed, voice dripping with irritation. He shot a glare at Wayne through the rearview mirror, but his words were directed at you.
“How would you explain kissing her and inviting her to our friend's brunch!” You snapped in Eddie’s direction.
“Eddie, tell me you did not do that!”
“It-it’s not like that, Wayne.”
“Oh, really? What is it like?” You gruffly asked, curiosity and hurt evident in your tone.
“Eddie…” Wayne warned him shushingly with a disappointed look, he could see how much you were hurting, and he knew Eddie was a bit oblivious.
“What?” he groaned.
“Don’t worry, Wayne, he just enjoys playing with my feelings,” you replied with a scoff, fingers tracing the pattern on the car’s leather seats, a relief to your pent-up emotions.
“Oh, you’re one to fuckin’ talk,” Eddie muttered under his breath with an out of place chuckle, his anger overflowing after holding it back for so long. “Newsflash, princess. You weren’t the one to wake up all alone in L.A. with one fucking note, I was!” He yelled, words punctuated by the heavy breath he took between each sentence.
“You should be grateful you have two notes in that pocket of yours because I barely got one!”
“Will you stop bringing that up?” You plead, lip wobbling as you bit on it harshly to stop your emotions from spilling.
“‘I can’t do this, sorry.’” He recited your words, and you refused to look at him. “Five letters, Pinky. Not even six. Five. You left me with that—no goodbyes, no nothin’, just a sticky fuckin’ note attached to the fridge.” His head snapped toward you.
A loud chuckle left your mouth, you turned to him with rage, and Wayne knew he had to step in or it was going to get ugly, even uglier than, whatever this was. “This isn’t even about that-”
“Alright, alright!” He interrupted, hands waving in the space between the two of you.
“Simmer down, both of you! I know the two of you have a lot of unresolved shit… but don’t burn this bridge,” he warned, “not again.” Wayne’s words were quick to disperse the emotional fog that had surrounded the car.
“The thing, whatever the hell it is, that y’all have… people spend their whole fuckin’ life lookin’ for it… Don’t be dumb.” That was enough to have the two of you shut up.
“Talk it out.” He said, firm but fair. “I know you’ve both been hurt, so, be honest with each other, and apologize,” he continued, urging both of you to confront each other.
“Okay?” He asked, head hanging in the space between the two of you.
“Okay,” both of you mumbled in unison, backs turned toward each other.
‘Too late’ was all you could think; that bridge was already burned. There was no way the two of you could ever go back now, right?
A sigh of relief escaped your lips when Eddie finally pulled up to your house, you didn’t waste any time saying goodbye to Eddie before turning to Wayne and giving him a hug.
“See you around?” You asked with a hopeful smile.
“You better!” Wayne warned playfully, evoking a giggle from you. “You gotta drop by sometime, promise?” He asked with a sly grin, he knew exactly what he was doing.
You didn’t want to see Eddie anymore than you had to now, but if Wayne asked you to do something, you’d do it in a heartbeat.
You looked back at Eddie, your gazes connecting for a second before both of you turned away. “Uh-huh, promise,” you mumbled before exiting quickly.
“What the hell are you doin’, kid?” Wayne exclaimed the moment you left, causing Eddie to look at him with a puzzled expression.
“Walk her to her door, for Christ’s sake!”
“I-I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Eddie explained hesitantly.
“Where are your manners?” Wayne scolded him, raising his voice. Eddie grumbled in frustration but ultimately gave in, cussing under his breath as he exited the car to follow you.
He ran after you, breathless once he finally caught up to you. “Sorry, I should’ve walked you-” He mumbled
You shook your head interrupting him, “no, it’s fine.”
“So, uhhh…” He started, gaining your attention back to him. “Goodnight.” Eddie grumbled with a scratch of his head, barely able to look at you. He didn’t want to leave things like this, but the damage was already done. You could see the guilt in his eyes, but it didn’t matter now.
He wondered what you would think of the notes; would you even read them? Would you get mad at him for the things he wrote?
“Goodnight, Eddie.” You muttered back, turning to the door as you avoided looking at him, your finger shakily retrieved your key as you fumbled with it, doing everything in your willpower to not turn back at him.
Eddie walked away with the same thoughts eating away at him. Were you going to look back at him? The temptation got the best of him, and he turned with a shy nod. You were struggling with your keys, muttering in frustration, and the sight unintentionally brought a smile to his lips before he hurried back to his car.
The moment you heard his car door open, you turned, slowly and reluctantly, only for your gaze to meet Wayne’s, who had an all-knowing smirk playing at his lips, waving at you.
You gave him a shy smile before you hurriedly turned your back, finally opening the door and rushing inside.
“You idiot lovebirds are goin’ to be the death of me,” Wayne grumbled to himself with a shake of his head, watching the way you scurried inside.
Once you locked the door, you rested against it, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. Your thoughts were swirling,but there was only one thing that was overpowering everything else; the note.
You furiously searched for it in your pocket, curiosity filling the course of your veins as you fished it out of the left one, your hand shaking as you held it in front of your eyes.
The words scribbled in the closed note had your heart racing, afraid of what it was going to say, once you fully opened it, your eyes roamed through it quickly.
The note was dated a week ago.
Don't fool yourself,
She was heartache from the moment that you met her.
My heart feels so still
As I try to find the will to forget her, somehow.
Oh I think I've forgotten her now.
(Is it obvious this last line is sarcasm?)
Your fingers traced the line that had the parenthesis and were crossed out. Eddie’s notes. If you the tears that escaped your burning eyes weren’t distorting your vision, maybe you would’ve appreciated some of the lyrics, and his funny notes, even though they were messy and all over the place.
I don’t blame you, but sometimes I wish we hadn’t met. (This is kinda too out there, but there could be something from this???)
Your heart pounded against your ribcage—that familiar ache that never fully left returned with a sharper pain. It hurt that he thought of you in this way. He thought you ruined his life, and now he wished he had never met you.
Those thoughts sank into your brain, and the anger that came with them was something you couldn’t comprehend. There was a lot more of the scribbled nonsense that you couldn’t read, other lyrics that were scratched out.
Your hands were shaking once you flipped it over. The other note was dated today.
I lied, didn’t I? I think I would prefer all the heartache in the world to not knowing you. I didn’t even realize that until today. Until I saw you across the room. And I can’t even explain how good it felt to look up and see you standing there. Even with that frown adorning your face.
Your tears hadn’t stopped, falling onto the piece of crumpled up paper and making a mess.
You felt like an idiot; you should’ve told him when you had the chance, and you had a lot of them. You were angry that you let everyone walk over you. You were angry that Billy had gotten away with everything. And now, Chrissy had a chance with him without ever paying for the consequences of what she did.
You couldn’t let that happen.
You didn’t want to be polite with your sadness anymore You didn’t want to absorb everyone’s pain to make sure they were okay. And you hated that that’s what you did essentially did when you didn’t tell Eddie about Chrissy.
You paced around the room, biting down on your nails.
Should you tell him? Or was that too selfish?
Because if you wanted to tell him, you had just the perfect opportunity to tell him and confront Chrissy; the brunch.
✦ final authors note —ALSO THE CHRISSY STUFF WILL BE REVEALED NEXT CHAPTER. IM SORRY FOR TEASING IT SO LONG BUT THE REVEAL IS GONNA BE GOOD I PROMISE LMAO. if you like this series pls support me by rbing liking and commenting ily thank youu🫶🏻 [EDIT: i forgot to say this but ofc the lyrics are not mine they are by jeff buckley’s incredible song “forget her” i listened to it A LOT writing this chapter👀 also if u can guess what the chapters title is inspired by ily]
permanent taglist (lmk if u want to be added): @mandyjo8719 @kellsck @batkin028 @hideoutside @sashaphantomhive @nabiiturner @andvys (ILY.)
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dimple is a great fucking character and i will fight anyone who says otherwise. specifically i will fight them by making them read this masterpiece client-crashing god-tackle effortpost about dimple
ive deliberately put off watching the telepathy arc episodes so i could finish this. i like tome So Much. you have no idea how much willpower it took. but it is done and its abt dimples like whole story and purpose and life and i think its a real good thing for you to read and enjoy
im so serious about this that I'm gonna capitalize and punctuate. My sorta thesis here is that Dimple's goals of manipulation are an expression of the basic act of choice that Mob Psycho 100 defines as living, but caring for Mob freaks him out because it distracts him from that purpose, and that contradiction and desperation to choose to live through control is tragically what ends him. Dimple is a friend. Strap in, motherfuckers, we're going for a ride.
Dimple's Goals (Dimpoals)
This is kinda an easy one.
I'm gonna be using images from the show and the comics but I'm not talking about anything past season three, episode six, so no worries anime-onlys. I describe all relevant visual info for each image, though there are also extra IDs in the alt text--I try not to repeat information.
Dimple wants to be a god, "the ultimate being in all creation," "the greatest power in the whole world," and "an object of devotion for all humanity." This dovetails with ideas about superiority and idealism in other parts of the comic but this post ain't about that. It's important that he never says what he'd actually do as a god. Like what is the power for? This comes up in his final confrontation with Mob, too.
Dimple claims that Psycho Helmet leads "people onto the right path," but the second Mob interrogates that he admits he has no plan, "no codex of any kind" from the comic. I don't think that's entirely true, though. Clearly Dimple doesn't care about ruling, because he doesn't actually know what he'd do with the power. But he does want to be revered--he wants positive attention!
Dimple's LOL cult is all about people laughing, and in this panel he says he chose that so he could gain a following without violence. Dimple's attempt with the divine tree is the same, he's trying to keep people the same besides their worship of the tree, make them feel happy in togetherness, help them "find peace at heart." I think there is a reading where making people happy is just a means to an end for Dimple. He for sure tries to kill Mob the first time they meet. But he doesn't have any logic for why he's not, like, using his powers to threaten people and demand tribute. He wants to become a god by making people feel good.
All this said--he's not gonna do it by being himself.
Identifying as evil
When Dimple meets Reigen he identifies himself as an evil spirit. Obviously this is sort of a joke. Like the idea that Mob's pet/mascot is actually an ancient malevolent ghost is pretty funny. But it's meaningful for Dimple's character too, so let's talk about what "evil" looks like. First, obviously the possession thing. How good is it that among all the people trying to manipulate Mob, one of them wants to literally control his every move? Second, here's a bunch of bad stuff Dimple did that Mob thinks about right after Teru tries to exorcise him:
Bro! She's like fourteen! (Dimple makes a lecherous comment about Tsubomi in this image.) He threatens Reigen, he tells Mob the body improvement club is a waste of his time, he straight up asks Mob if he can possess him... He's vindictive, pushy, mocking, and transparently manipulative.
Now to be fair lots of Mob Psycho characters are Like That. But there are some other things more specific to Dimple. Third, he tries to possess Ritsu, taking advantage of his fear of Mob. Fourth, again, the attempting-to-kill-Mob thing. Fifth, here's a bit from a recent side story:
My god. Dimple is terrifying in this. If you haven't read it, Uu is a little dog spirit that Reigen's been keeping around as a pet. Dimple notices that it's feeding on Reigen's energy so he gets rid of it. In these panels he waits until Reigen asks him where Uu is before telling him that he ate it. He has all these lines on his face and this expression of like hostile delight. There are creepy effects blobs behind him. He burps! He does a thing he knows will hurt Reigen and then rubs it in his face, acting like he takes pleasure in it. And finally from one of my favorite scenes in season 2:
I love love love this scene, when Mob is asked to exorcise the ghost family and he refuses. It takes the existing tropes in the story and introduces this like moral complexity and thoughtfulness, it communicates a change in stakes... "They won't have to exorcise you if the clients are dead." Again Dimple is smiling maliciously. He tries to manipulate ghost dad into attacking the college assholes, which is the one hand, for the purpose of getting him exorcised by Mob, which is the other hand. Harm in both directions. There is a third hand! We'll get to it.
But I want to summarize this section first: Dimple's default tool for dealing with adversity is manipulation. He, unlike, say, Reigen, is very comfortable looking like the bad guy, and to some extent he believes he is one. He wants to reach godhood by making people feel good, and he's going to do that not through bloodshed or by being a paragon of virtue but by using other people's flaws to control them.
The Living Spirit
Sorry, I want to do some more stuff before I get to the third hand.
I'd like to think I've been helpfully analytical up to this point, though probably not too novel. But I haven't seen anyone talk about this. Dimple is the liveliest dead guy in the comic, by a wide margin. He has multiple genuine relationships with people, he gets embarrassed, he gets happy, he fears things, he fully laughs. Sure in-canon this might be a proximity thing but in a narrative context I think it's significant that he's so much more of a character than other spirits. Here, in essentially his introduction as a significant character, he says, "I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a ghost!" There's also a great pun he makes in the Dark Horse translation when Reigen questions the existence of urban legend spirits--"Look, pal, just because you're a fake, don't disrespect the lived experience of the dead!" He thinks about living a lot.
Dimple comes back from apparent evaporation more than once, first when Mob exorcises him at the LOL meeting, second when Teru exorcises him in their first encounter. He really really wants to live.
Then there's the brief conversation between him and Reigen about the woman being stalked by what appears to be a spirit, but ends up being a neighbor astral-projecting himself. In this panel Dimple denies that spirits get horny. "It's not like we can do anything about it." He doesn't even think about like romantic love. So most importantly, canon aroace Dimple. But also Dimple believes that being a ghost reduces your existence. It's not even a possibility to do certain things, whether you want to or not. There's a tension here, Dimple craves life but knows that as-is he can't have it.
And then there's this six-page omake at the end of volume five. Please please read it if you can, it's not in the anime and it's such a good little story. When Dimple is almost exorcised by Teru, he only just manages to pull together an ant-sized form, and is rescued from being eaten by a pig ghost by a tiny human spirit called Stubble. The above image is an abandoned house in the woods, with Stubble, off-screen, monologuing, "I simply don't want to perish. I don't hold any grudge against this world. Neither do I have any dreams. Years have passed, without a clear goal." Stubble lives an extremely reduced existence, figuratively and literally. He rides around on the back of the ghost of flea, i.e., he is dependent on the echo of a thing that needs to latch onto something else to exist. He has no agency at all.
It's disconcerting, how Dimple starts at Stubble's size and slowly grows--or, reframed, Stubble slowly shrinks. Here Dimple accuses Stubble, "You died, even before your death. But I on the other hand..." Stubble gets angry. "You're dead too!" Again you should read the story, the way it concludes really blows me away.
Remember in the first episode of season three the S&S crew help the bald guy out of his funk, and at one point he says, "Am I doomed to just repeat these meaningless days until my death?" And then, soon after, "Wait, is my life already over?"
This is about the desperation of agency. Because like, Stubble is right. Dimple has been dead for a long time. His goal is ridiculous. His existence is scraps, yet he's clinging to them with everything he has. What's the point? Lay down alone among the insects, shrink and fade.
Dimple doesn't have a counterargument to Stubble. He doesn't justify "why." But the last sentence he says in the omake is, "I want to stay alive." Dimple, and by extension this omake, and if I may be so bold all of Mob Psycho 100, identifies agency with life. It's not even that life is about making choices, it's that life is literally the act of choosing. You have to choose to live. And Dimple does.
He likes control. He likes choice. He may not be alive but he chooses to live every day. Why? Because he has a purpose: he's going to become a god. And he's going to take Mob there with him.
The Third Hand
Are you good? You're like 1500 words in, feel free to take a break, drink some water.
Maybe you're starting to sense where this is heading. On the third hand, Dimple manipulates ghost dad to help Mob. He attempts to take away both of their autonomy in order to ease Mob's obvious distress. Let's talk about Dimple's evolving relationship with Mob.
I say this a third time, Dimple tries to kill Mob when they meet. Then, despite a positive spin on his initial pitch to Mob, he's pretty transparently evil about it.
These frames of the show are from that introduction, the first with Dimple surrounded in stars and bright colors saying "Let's shoot for the top of the world together," the second with Dimple thinking, face lit from below and body language full of menace, "I'll just wait for my chance to possess him." To be fair again, lots of Mob Psycho characters are Like That. Compare this to the first episode of season two: when Mob tells Dimple the story about Emi, Dimple, excited, assures him that they should keep sticking together so Dimple can help him out with these things. The animators even use the same image of Dimple with the stars and colors:
"Looks like you'll always need an advisor like me!" But this time he doesn't have the sinister turn he did when they first met. This is how Dimple keeps acting throughout season two. He helps Mob, apparently so that Mob trusts him so that in turn Mob can help him reach godhood. But he goes so far above and beyond without any malice: he keeps Banshomaru safe, he possesses one of the high school kids bullying Mob, he eats the curse off Reigen's back, he tries to defend Mob against fucking Toichiro.
Here's a great couple panels: after Dimple explains the deal with urban legends becoming real, he reiterates that he wants to be a god. Then Mob asks Dimple to "make sure [Banshomaru] won't get hurt," and little surprise lines come off Dimple. He agrees but says, "You gotta do me a favor sometime too." Dimple is a little struck by Mob's trust, but maybe more importantly this is the first time in a while, and I think the last time in season two, that Dimple suggests Mob do something for him. It only comes after he reiterates exactly what his purpose is. Dimple's priorities are a little unstable.
Yeah this is just a full comic page from the encounter with Mogami but it's meaningful as shit. Dimple has just suggested taking over Mob's body to protect it. The first panel is Dimple looking away and down, deflated, ashamed. A few sweat drops come down his face. He says, "but something like that..." And to his surprise (action lines, closeup, wide eyes) Mob agrees. Dimple puts on an evil affect when he responds: a horizontally squashed panel shows his backlit face. He smiles unpleasantly and laughs a little, "Kuku..." But his heart clearly isn't in it! His eyebrows are worried, not hostile. There's no pleasure in his smile. He's covered in sweatdrops, eyes wide. When Mob assures Reigen, "It'll be okay," there's another panel of Dimple where the remnants of that affect slide off him. The backlighting is still present but not as severe, the echo of that smile is on his cheek. He's openly worried and covered in sweatdrops. Mob's speech bubble covers a large portion of his face.
Points about this. First, by now Dimple has given up on possessing Mob. This thing that seemed like the main path to his goal is not an option. Second, while both Dimple and Reigen believe that this is a bad idea for Mob, Mob disagrees. Dimple identifies as evil. Reigen identifies him as evil. Mob no longer does. This is classic Shigeo Kageyama behavior, being generous to people even when no one including themselves thinks they deserve it. And the worst part for Dimple is he's starting to agree with Mob. When the option he'd dropped is handed to him on a silver platter, he finds he doesn't want to take advantage of this kid that way. He's a different person than he was.
I don't even know how relevant this is but. Look how much fucking fun Dimple has when he's possessing Mob to protect him. He's doing all these flips and kicks. His smile when he's fighting Mogami!Asagiri is so funny. He does the wildest mid-air combo I ever did see when he attacks the Claw guy as Mob.
Mob becomes such a top priority for Dimple that in the first episode of season three he realizes he forgot that he wanted to become a god. Not only that, but when he comes to Mob to convince him to lead the cult together he's immediately distracted by Mob and what's going on in his life. Mob has to prompt him for him to remember that he's there about the cult.
All this is why Mob's mistrust of Dimple in this conversation is so tragic. Dimple has helped Mob so much, and been so much of a genuine friend, because he knew that Mob trusted him. Where did it go? What happened? Mob's parting words to him are, "Why don't you give your schemes a rest already?" What schemes?? This is the first he's had in months. The translation in the comic, though, is so much more brutal:
"Why don't you stop doing bad things?"
Dimple is
Dimple is terrified of Mob. When Mob wonders if Dimple is scared of him, he's right, of course he is. He has lots of reasons. Mob almost evaporates Dimple when they first meet, threatens him multiple times. Dimple saw him at 100% rage, Mob's first on-screen. He watched Mob hit ???% without being knocked unconscious. This is all especially threatening given Dimple's drive to live. He's terrified when Ritsu tries to fight Mob, he's terrified when Mob asks him if he had anything to do with Ritsu's kidnapping, he's terrified when he thinks Reigen is about to tell Mob that they don't know what happened to his family. But I also read his fear as a symbol of how important Mob is. Dimple attached himself to Mob as the way to achieve his goal. Dimple helps Mob out in so many ways, putting off his goal, so that eventually they can fulfill his purpose together. Then he starts caring about this kid so much that he forgets his purpose! Of course Dimple fears Mob, because their relationship threatens what drives him to live. As much as Dimple is a manipulator, Mob is the one who ultimately has power over him.
Dimple so easily reverts to an evil persona once he leaves Mob because without Mob that's all he can be. If he can't get to the top with Mob, then he has to do it the old way, by using people's flaws to manipulate them. He's able use the broccoli to become a physical presence and get around the "amazing power" problem--though the broccoli's presence and power are still kinda Mob's! But why does he need to become a god at all? Because that's all he is. If he doesn't have Mob and he doesn't have his purpose, then he has nothing.
"Don't go casually denying the thing I've been wanting so badly!" Dimple gets so angry when Mob tells him he's being fake because first, Mob is denying Dimple's manipulative tendencies, which are really important to Dimple right here because he feels his identity is so precarious. And because second, Mob is denying Dimple's purpose. Dimple is in equal danger from Mob's physical attacks and Mob's denial of what he wants. What he wants, what he chooses, is what living is. Dimple doesn't want to die.
Here's a lot of a comic page again, from the final confrontation. Dimple tells Mob that he's just been using him the whole time they've known each other. Mob says, "I'm sad... Does that mean it's time to say goodbye to Dimple?" He steps towards Dimple, who screams in fear and anticipation. I think this is basically the worst thing ever, because god, Dimple is so afraid. Mob is justified in what he's doing but Dimple's desperation is what stands out to me, how hard he's tried to cling to agency and life and how sincerely he believes Mob is about to take it all away from him anyway, to disappear forever and ever.
And then Dimple insults Mob's shirt.
Dimple insults Mob's shirt
Fucking kills me. These are two frames from episode six, Dimple sees how much Mob suddenly trusts him and his reaction is anger, "You okay with leaving me like this?" His eyes are wide, brow down in anger. And then what he says next, "I'm... a dangerous evil spirit!" Here the anger is present but has softened with worry on his brow. The lines by his nose and his pouty lower lip make him look scared and sad. This fight has made it important to Dimple's identity that Mob try to stop him, because he's evil, and Mob stops evil spirits.
Panels from the comic where Mob tells Dimple, "You weren't doing bad things. You were just doing what you wanted to do. Together with me. You trusted me before I trusted you, Dimple. Thank you." Mob doesn't think Dimple is evil, but he identifies how important Dimple acting on his wants is, and he tells him that he still values their relationship. He denies that he has to hurt dimple but affirms his power to choose.
I maybe could've skipped a lot of BS if I put this page further up but I wanted this to get felt, what Dimple's admitting to himself here. It's another section of a page. Panel one, a white splotch in darkness with Dimple's thoughts, "It felt like my ambitions would fade away. Did spending time with unselfish Shigeo cause even me to lose sight of my goals?" Panel two, Dimple is the white splotch. He's scared. "...eh? Wait, that's a problem...!! I'll lose my reason for existing!" So Dimple tells Mob, angry, "No, not yet... I'm not done yet! Even now... I've still got... plenty of things I want to do! And ambitions!" Mob agrees, with that tired, frank look. "I'll hear you out for real. As your friend." Accepting Mob's friendship like this is terrifying, because it means what it always has, forgetting about this purpose. What if Mob stops trusting him again? If he really, consciously abandons his purpose, will he still have agency? He wanted a friend, always wanted a friend. Will it be enough? Will he disappear?
Dimple takes Mob's hand anyway. This was such an amazing shot, I've reproduced its animated glory here, Mob and Dimple reach towards each other, Mob weakly, so Dimple closes the gap and grabs him. The hand grasp of all time. I'm not gonna talk about how this fits into all the other Mob Psycho hand symbolism, that's another 4000-word megapost.
It's worth it. I'm convinced that by involving yourself in a network of people and creating some sense of obligation to others you can actually give yourself an even deeper kind of agency than you could achieve alone. And this is awful, terrifying. Because it involves giving yourself up a little bit. You have to give up some control. Dimple wants to be a god, to have ultimate power and control, so much of him is his manipulation, but he has to give that up for this. Goals that may have guided you for a long time can become irrelevant--and then who are you? If you've defined your life by something for years, and at the end of the decade you realize you don't fit your definition anymore, where do you go? Dimple tells Mob, "Let's go home." But...
Panels from the comic, where Dimple carries a sleeping Mob and thinks, "I said 'let's go home,' but I don't really have any place to 'go home' to... And I don't have anything to aim for from here... I wonder what I should do now." That Dimple is allowing himself to think this is really powerful. I don't think this has to be a sad moment. Like obviously Mob thinks that Dimple's home is his house. He just asked him to stay away until he reverts to his smaller form, as in, he otherwise would've expected Dimple to stay with him. I appreciate the larger point that now Dimple feels unmoored, and deciding on a new purpose is existential. But I think Mob also has a larger point that he believes he can help moor Dimple. I think allowing yourself to wonder where to go next is so important. Dimple is where Mob was a few months back when he decided he wanted to join the body improvement club! He has a future, even if he can't see it very well.
Or, um.
I keep fucking crying while I'm writing this. I love the translation in the comic here. Dimple kneels before a prone Mob and, finger touching his forehead, says, "Listen well... I'm giving you orders for the first and last time. First, wake up. Stand up, Shigeo." Mob is still for a moment and then says, "...it's no use. I can't put any strength into my legs. I can't move my arms either." Dimple is very serious now as he relays, "Your body may complain, but still... stand up. Even if you cannot stand... you must stand." God damn it, god fucking dammit.
Sometimes it's not so easy to change. Your actions have consequences. Your history follows you. Dimple's desperate attempt to keep his old wants comes back to kill his new ones.
Dimple's final act is the same thing he always does, he manipulates Mob to protect him. And it is good and kind. Suddenly his reason for existence is paradoxical: he's going to have to die to fulfill it. Who exists to die? But that's not what it is. Because he's making a choice. He denies death, he says, no, you can swallow me whole, you can annihilate me, but even then you can't take my agency away from me. And I will use this final choice to protect someone I love.
Dimple was a friend.
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