* 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 ! @scnteria - Tumblr Blog

( alex wolff, cis male, he/him, muse b ) oh snap! is that THEODORE “TEDDY” WELLS ? they work over at high volume where some of the other employees have labeled them as THE MISCREANT. that’s probably because they can be a bit ( affable ) but also pretty ( misguided ). they’re 22 and they’ve been living in woodstock for FOUR YEARS. it must be their shift because i totally hear RADIOHEAD blasting from the record store.

( @volumeupdates )

#volumeintro #i added a few tws within this ok

TASK 03 — INTERVIEW

THE CLOSEST THING teddy has to a lawyer is his older brother, who is fresh out of law school and living in chicago. but the thing is, you can’t just reach out to your brother and tell him you might’ve been an accomplice to a murder that may or may not ( but probably IS ) your boss and family friend, who happens to be missing. but god, teddy desperately wishes he could pick up the phone and call mccartney.

instead, he has to think: what would mick do?

#volumetask #nausea tw #anxiety tw #gun violence tw #vomit tw #this was much overdue #and tbh don't read it nothing happens FSDJK #this was also to help me get back in character lol heyo

kem and @mvxsinc !

@scnteria & @mvxsinc

in teddy & max’s apartment ♥

he groans softly. it takes a second for his eyes to open, finding max and smiling softly. “ hi. ” he whispers, nose brushing against hers. there’s a sacred oasis in this feeling, in the trailing of fingers and how she’ll look at him like that, like she knows he’s going to say yes before she’s even said it. “ hm ? ” a hum leaves his lips at her request, slow nod following. “ okay. ” kem accepts, still half asleep and ignoring the heaviness that weighs upon his lids and as he smiles. “ just water ? ” he wonders, forehead gently against hers before kissing her. it’s only when he’s stood does he feel the full effects of his fatigue, a slight wobble in his stance before he quietly opens the door to leave.

there’s an immediate chill to creep over him, as he shuffles with softened steps. max’s apartment has become somewhat of a haven for him but he barely explores past her bedroom, not unless they know they’re alone, that teddy is elsewhere and it’s just THEM. so he’s cautious of his VOLUME so late in the night since it’s not just them who are home this time.

his task is simply, really. fill a glass with water and return as quickly and quietly as he can. he quite literally can’t fuck up, so… once he’s in the kitchen, after flicking on the light, he does just that. he’s pretty sure it’s in record time, too, but when he turns to go back he exhales sharply as he’s startled by a figure. he almost drops the glass but catches it back, a bit spilling on his hand. “ fuck. ” he brings his hand to his chest, his breath quick momentarily. “ you scared me. ” he admits, before he realises it’s TEDDY.

kem hesitates, a sudden shift in his stance despite no change being able to hide the fact he’s just stood in his boxers right now. " uh, did you want some ? “ he extends the glass out towards the other. acting natural.

A REALLY FUN development that teddy is learning about his state of being is that he can’t fucking sleep. at least now, he can manage a few hours at a time before he stirs awake, thoughts like water churning in a mill that keep him from resting. granted, things seem to be better if he’s got someone in bed with him ( that someone being one marty tsui, who is not currently in his bed ). of course, winnie is a great cuddle companion. in fact, she’s even adjusted to his lack of a sleeping pattern, merely by sleeping through it like a ROCK.

and y’know what? good for her. at least someone is getting some good rest.

that being said, the idea of teddy having an internal clock is just a joke at this point. it certainly doesn’t help that he’s not working at the moment, though it’s becoming increasingly evident that an income is going to be needed if teddy wants consistent access to weed. oh, and rent. whatever. not only that, but not having a consistent schedule is not proving to be a good thing for him, either. sleeping whenever he’s tired throughout the day, eating whenever he’s hungry— there’s no semblance of consistency, and that’s EVIDENT in the way he’s wandering into the kitchen to eat cold pizza, the glow of the refrigerator the saddest of spotlights on an exhausted frame.

he’s humming this charming man by the smiths and bopping around, nodding his head as he chews. it’s when he gets to the crust that he closes the refrigerator door and starts to wander around the kitchen table, steps on the beat of the song in his head when he hears a door open. he expects max, because who else would he expect coming from her room? he’s rendered speechless and frozen as he makes out the figure: one kem arslan.

a few more bites of crust are held in teddy’s hand as he stares at his friend across the room from him. at the offer, teddy holds up the piece of crust. “i’m good,” he insists, mouth half full. “i think i’m hallucinating.” as if that would help his current situation. it’s very plausible; he hallucinated a gunshot once, and a weird dark figure in the corner of his room the other day but that’s neither here nor there. he holds up two fingers. “i come in peace, sleep paralysis demon. you kinda look like my friend, though.”

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || kem #ft. || max #gunshot tw #anxiety tw #i am technically on semi hiatus but...#i drank 2 margaritas and wrote this

marty !

🎸

this is not what they do. this — the vulnerability that comes with seeing the other cry or show any kind of emotion that isn’t joy or pleasure. this — showing a part of themselves that is kept under wraps from each other, even if she and teddy are good friends. the hug they initiate is all marty feels like they can offer but, still, despite the fact they are the ones that wrapped their arms around teddy first, there’s a few heartbeats where marty is still processing everything. teddy crying, how powerless they feel and how all they do is just tighten their arms around him, pull him closer for a few more seconds.

when teddy pulls away, marty is met with a vision of him that they never thought they’d witness, more tears than dry cheeks, and she can feel her chest tighten at the image. impressive how, for someone that doesn’t deal with their own emotions, marty always feels so ready to just take on other’s, if they could. “i do believe you, teddy, i do.” even if they are slightly taken back by the fact he hadn’t even talked to them about the whole thing, the thing which brought them to a point where neither has seen the other’s bed in a couple of weeks. “if i didn’t, i wouldn’t be here.” even if those words do come off as something one says just to be the cherry on top, marty does mean them — if there’s one thing they can’t do, is pretend to want to be there for someone if they didn’t. though, if marty’s completely honest with herself, she doesn’t quite know what being here entailed, not when they have no idea what to do to help teddy.

“hey, you’re not alone. you got me. you got max. maybe we don’t know what you’re really going through but, y’know, we’re here.” they let those words linger between them, words spoken by teddy playing inside their head over and over and over and over again. with each loop, no answer in sight to what they can actually do to make teddy feel better. “tell me how to help you, teddy, ‘cause i want to but don’t know what to do.”

IT'S AS IF he's caved in on himself. weeks of holding it together, it's like the cracks underneath his surface have finally given in to the pressure and have caused him to come undone in marty's arms. his breaths shake as he inhales and he moves a hand to their arm, fingers delicately wrapping around their tricep. he lifts his head to look at them— "if i didn't, i wouldn't be here." brown eyes dark with the way they carry the harm he's felt, teddy studies their face and nods in comprehension. lips part, gaze falls to the ground and his grip goes limp. all he can think to do is to lean in and gently lay his lips on her shoulder. they linger for a moment and his eyes fall to a close; a tear falls as they shut.

"i'm so scared," he admits, voice small and muffled against their shirt. "what do i do if it's him? i–" teddy lifts his head, his lip quivering as he slowly shakes his head. "i don't know what i'm gonna do. it's my fault." and it's hard, isn't it? to have to explain to a friend how you're terrified to be alone and terrified of what you're capable of— the nights feel darker, the moon less bright, the air more bitter, and his lungs more restricted. a mere puppet to anxiety in the rawest of forms, it's as if teddy has relinquished all control of his life without consent. and how does one describe the tightness in their chest, the invisible pain so sharp but unable to be tended to? all of it is nothing short of a nightmare, but he can't even begin to describe it.

and thus, he has no idea how to ask for help. it's like the help he needs is so far off that he can't articulate what it is. "i don't know how to fix this." after moments of hyperventilating, teddy lifts his head and rubs at his eye with his sweatshirt sleeve. "it's like–" a cringe settles on his features. "–it's like looking at a– at a broken vase and you're looking at the pieces to glue it back together. where do you even fucking START?"

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || marty #this is so unbelievably tardy #i am so sorry dskjldf #anxiety tw

raiden !

raiden was beginning to view slumber as something of a luxury, a privilege no longer afforded to him since their recent meeting. between the fraudulent behavior they had all participated in, the possible surfacing of their boss’ corpse, and of course, teddy. throughout all of the uncertainty and havoc, rai had never entertained the thought that any of them could really have anything to do with what had happened. least of all teddy. teddy who he’d spent hours in the car with, passing a shared cigarette with, late-night trips to the nearest fast food joint, and hours caught in laughter with. how do you trust the grasp of someone with blood of their hands? or rather, their feet? even still, he couldn’t let teddy go alone. despite it all, the boy still had a home nestled in raiden’s heart.

as the pair of sneakers were embraced by the fire, raiden watched blankly, hands in his sweatshirt and mind miles away. “i would never let you do this alone, teds,” he answered honestly, voice smaller than he expected, almost engulfed by the breath of both the fire and the woods. “you know that…” he knows better than to even toss teddy a glance, the face no doubt kissed with tears. an image that would only add to rai’s sense of heartbreak. “i just- i don’t know why you didn’t say shit. to us. or to me, even.”

THE SOUND OF his nickname coming from a familiar voice is enough to make teddy feel even the smallest sliver of relief. it's a voice he hadn't heard in a while, not to the same extent he used to. it's no one's doing but his own, with the heaviness of the inevitable sitting between them. after all, raiden had seen teddy that night of the shooting. if there's anyone with any sort of connection to the burning of the shoes besides teddy, it's rai. and damn, it's pretty nice to have him here.

"thanks," is all he manages to mutter, though it's sincere nonetheless. a deep inhale at rai's question preludes the pause while teddy ponders a response. his gaze stays on the fire in front of them and he watches as a lick of a flame climbs up one of the laces. it's an excellent question: why did teddy wait so long to say something? he even finds himself wondering. it's so much more complicated than one would think: for starters, the whole thing was traumatic. it fucked with his head, piecing together the events of the night LONG after it happened. did he actually see jerry? did it even happen? the more he'd think about it, the more he'd relive it and soon enough, the effects of reliving such a time would take a toll on him. then it turned into denial, TERROR, until it demanded to be at the forefront of his mind at all times and resulted in teddy breaking down and telling kem. it was downhill from there.

"you knew something was up," he tells raiden and swallows hard at a lump in his throat. it's now that he turns his head to look at his front, shoulders slumped forward, eyes exhausted, expression blank as if his emotions have been WRUNG like a towel. "that night? you saw me. i–" it's not like he can remember much of when he saw raiden. "you never..." he turns his head to look at the fire again. "you never said anything. and i mean..." it's not accusatory, but more observatory. "you were weird after. but you never brought it up."

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || raiden #lsdkjs i am SORRY OK #DON'T MATCH LENGHT IM SORRY

max !

SHE’S CLEANING THE KITCHEN AGAIN, the third time today, when she hears winnie enter, followed closely by teddy. « hi, winwin, » she greets the dog as winnie hotfoots it to her, panting happily. max looks up at her roommate at the promise of gifts. the old max would’ve rushed towards that familiar brown paper bag immediately, zealous and giddy, celebrating every little aspect of life, every tiny victory — chinese food being one of them. but the old max was a child. so now she simply walks over with a small smile, giving teddy a peck on his cheek. i heard you mention wonton soup the other day. this is the sort of attentiveness they haven’t shown each other these past few months, and so maxine’s heart swells in her chest at the notion that maybe things can be normal, one day. this is what home feels like. « this is so sweet of you, bear. i actually dreamed about dumplings last night, » she admits.

smile dies shortly after. maxine pokes at the container of soup before daring to speak. « hey, » she coos softly, « i know that was really hard for you, what you did at the meeting, but .. i’m glad it’s out there. i hope you can breathe a little now. » even if he still carries the guilt of not telling the cops, so does everyone else. but max, terrified of authorities as it is, will always protect teddy over anything else. the law has to simply wait.

A SMILE FINDS its way onto his face— though not as bright as they once were capable of, it's at least something. it's hard not to smile around maxine, after all. he has a lot of love for her, and no outside force could really put any sort of damper on that. he wrinkles his nose as she pecks his cheek, a common thing between them: she'd show him affection and he'd pretend he hated it, like a little kid whose mother wipes smudge off of their cheek.

his smile falters, as it usually does nowadays, when she mentions the meeting. teddy lowers himself into a seat at the kitchen table and lets out a sigh. winnie, as per usual, wanders over to the kitchen table and sits between them, desperate for any sort of crumb to hit the floor. he scratches absently behind her ear. "uh... yeah," an exasperated laugh trails his remark. a sniffle, a clearing of his throat, and a quick roll of his shoulders is enough to give away how UNCOMFORTABLE he is about talking about it. he picks up a fork and twirls it around a bit. "uh– THANK you, though. for saying that." his lips press together before he continues, almost begrudgingly. "i feel a little lighter. but somehow... shittier, at the same time." another laugh escapes him, this time a bit more genuine as he looks up at maxine. he shrugs. "i've done stupid shit, and i think this was just the icing on the cake. that, or doing too many shrooms and having sex in the forest and forgetting a condom–" he pauses and cringes. "-touchy topic. right. sorry."

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || max

chriatian !

christian felt bad for…well, a lot of things, but he felt he’d been too harsh on teddy during the meeting. knowing what teddy had been carrying all this time, compounded on his recollections of their halloween ‘adventure,’ it was clear he had a lot to grapple with at the moment. christian didn’t know if he’d ever bared a feeling to teddy in his life, but he wanted to make up for his harshness during the meeting, and for exacerbating teddy’s lie with his own.

“i didn’t exactly help when i told the cops jerry was around when he wasn’t,” christian supplied as an apology. he stood a few inches from teddy with his hands in his pockets, but finally dared to bridge the distance with a glance in his direction. “guess we both fucked everyone.”

A SINGLE SCOFF acts as a response to christian's comment and teddy lets his head hang forward for a moment, the smallest of smiles lingering on his lips. it's funny, to think that in that moment when christian lied about jerry's whereabouts, teddy clung onto the story like it was his last saving grace before drowning and yet, here they were. he takes in a deep breath and looks over at chrisitan. "you didn't know," he tells him gingerly. this much is true— teddy can't blame ANYONE for acting any sort of way when he'd harbored such a secret from them all. "you were just... acting in true christian tibayan fashion. lying to authorities and trying to limit the amount of time spent answering the phones." he smirks a little at his own comment and sighs once more. "if they confirm it's jerry's body, i'm fucked, dude. we're all fucked."

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || christian #drowning tw #death mention tw

reyna !

“I literally came for the spare fucking set of keys.”

john does. a tattered pair of chucks. a boy with a serious dose of guilty conscience. reyna wants no part in it, never asked to be recruited into their makeshift scooby gang, covering up a secret - for what? misplaced affection in their capitalist overlord boss? stubbornness? a grand fuck you to the stuffy elitists on the town board? she came for teddy’s set of keys - and ended up staying at his side through whatever movie monologue he’s internalising.

“speaking of which - “ hands outstretched, reyna makes a beckoning motion, patience clearly waning. she hasn’t even seen the dog - which if she’s being honest, would have been the only perk of subjecting herself to this situation. “as much fun as this swiss family robinson camping trip has been…I’m starting to feel like a dirty accomplice. And not in the good way.”

"MAKING UP FOR lost time?" he's digging in his pocket, an uncharacteristically bitter tone encapsulating his words that bite. it's essentially a hurt animal lashing out, if teddy's even capable of lashing out. what does he have left to lose at this point, anyway? he knows reyna doesn't like him, so who the fuck cares? "like the times when i comforted max while she cried on the kitchen floor after she and christian broke up? i'd ask where you were, but..." he pulls out his keys. "... i'd also ask for, i dunno, a LITTLE bit of fucking sympathy since we both have been known to make questionable decisions that we now have to LIVE with, but–" teddy tosses them to her. "–guess i know you better than i thought."

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || reyna #i am so sorry #he's not well in the head rn <3

blair !

STARTER FOR TEDDY. ( @scnteria )

– “HEY,” BLAIR REACHES OUT TO GRAB THE SLEEVE OF HIS JACKET, fingertips fleeting but firm in their grasp. she hates this, the serious feeling of it all – after all, she can so clearly remember times before jerry disappeared where she and teddy could have a shift together and sing at the top of their lungs, or walk home after closing, sharing a blunt. she wishes there was a way to know that you were in a good memory while it was one, so you could hold on a little tighter.

the meeting is in ten minutes, and she stops teddy before he goes into the store.

“ i know what you saw, ” she informs him bluntly, no credit to HOW she knows but she figures the pieces are easy enough to put together and word spreads. “ but i won’t say anything if you don’t want me to. ”

DREAD TASTES BITTER in the back of his throat as he's heading to a meeting with his coworkers about the inevitable: jerry's gone, and teddy's the only one who knows he's probably dead at this point. he knows what he has to do. he has to fess up and admit to what he saw but it's as if it'll never become a reality if teddy never mentions it, like it could save jerry's life if he never utters the words i saw someone get shot.

he's completely out of it, absolutely disassociating when he's brought back to earth by blair tugging on his sleeve. he stops and turns to her, blinking hard as if it'll help wake him up. he takes a moment to process her words. "i know what you saw." "what?" his voice is tired, his demeanor equally so, and confusion finds its way onto his features. "what're you–" a quick glance at the store interrupts his question before he turns back to blair. "what're you talking about?"

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || blair #death mention tw #can't wait for the day when i don't have to mention a tw in my replies #sighs dreamily

marty !

🎸

the crackle of the fire becomes louder and louder and, somehow, the surrounding woods have never made marty feel so lonely, so… away from everything going on, as if they’re just watching themself sit by the fire, with teddy’s company a bit too far away — at least compared to how close their bodies usually are. were? marty shakes their head, wrapped up in thoughts that were not called to making an appearance, not in the midst of how fucked up everything is. even through it all, though, marty’s mind still thinks of what they and teddy have. or had.

still, even with a crowded mind, teddy’s voice slips through and marty can’t help but turn their attention from the fire to him. she sees it all — the way he lifts his head or how quickly he averts his gaze from them after only a few heartbeats and, for a moment, marty swears they can see teddy’s inner turmoil in the way his eyes look; so different from the ones she had grown so familiar with. marty swallows, shifting on her spot to actually face teddy. i’m sorry, marty. their eyebrows furrow and, for the tenth of a second, they can hear trip’s voice reminding them they have a thing. they don’t want to say ‘it’s okay’ because it isn’t. they don’t want to say ‘don’t worry about it’ because it feels like something that will not be anywhere near possible for teddy. not at that moment. so they say nothing. their thing feels insignificant compared to teddy’s and god, they want to reach out, wrap their arms around him. words aren’t their chosen way of comforting those they care about and, right now, they wish they were.

it’s teddy’s next words that seal the deal. “fuck, teddy,” marty breathes out, and before they can think it through, remind herself she ought to be upset with teddy for basically leaving her hanging and deal with something he had a part in by herself, they’re closing the distance between them and wrapping their arms around teddy. heartbeats pass and marty simply allows herself to be. hold teddy tightly. “i’m still pissed at you. sorta,” marty says against his shoulder, “and i should make you take a plan b and deal with that.” they try and make a joke out of it, lighten the mood, even if it’s still something they should talk about.

“you’re going to be fine. not tomorrow, certainly not the day after. or the day after that. but you’ll be fine.”

IT'S THE FINAL thread that has seemed to snap— all of this pressure withholding for weeks, MONTHS, it has finally settled itself onto teddy's shoulders and it's as if he crumbles the second marty wraps their arms around him. the tears burst and he sobs, instantly turning into their embrace and burying his face in their chest. all of this time, holding it in and silently battling a stress that he can't even begin to compare to any other feeling he's ever had, it all catches up to him in this moment and he's trying to catch his breath, chest rising and falling rapidly as he does.

he's never been like this with marty— sure, they're friends. GOOD friends, even, but she's never seen him cry. he's never let it get to that point, besides one time when he stubbed his toe in the break room at work while they were hooking up in the dark but he SWORE he wasn't crying whilst marty laughed so hard, they brushed away their own tears. god, how the times have changed.

a hand moves gently to the back of marty's head and his other arm wraps around her. "the worst thing i could do was hurt you," he utters between breaths, which have slowly started to settle down. "i never meant to. you have to believe that." he lifts his head, a wall of tears built in front of his now red eyes. a hand moves to wipe away at his cheekbone and he sniffles. "i watched someone DIE, marty. how am i supposed to be fine? i–" teddy's breath is trembling as he inhales, crackling between sobs. "–i can't sleep. i barely eat." his gaze wanders in the distance, focused on nothing in particular, as his expression turns to one of emptiness. he sniffles, cheeks still stained with tears. "and i– i still hear it sometimes? and it's like– i'm, like, back there. and i keep reliving it over... and over... and i–" he shakes his head. "–i feel... SO fucking alone, and useless. like i can't get a grip on anything anymore."

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || marty #sorry for the fast reply it just had to be done #anxiety tw #death tw #disordered eating tw #panic attack tw #call it what it is baby

max !

IT BREAKS HER HEART TO HEAR HIM SO resigned, so clearly out of it, and even if she recognizes this as an effect of whatever is in his system right now she knows teddy — knows that there’s something more hiding behind that thin veil of whatever his poison is tonight. the subtle changes are like landslides for max, uprooting her home and all sense of stability. if teddy isn’t present, not completely, she must also crumble slightly.

max wants to reach out and tell him he’s been doing his best, despite not knowing the challenges he’s been through — until suddenly she does know. teddy finally opens up and the string of words leave him so casually that it takes a moment for maxine to even process what she’s hearing. « what .. what, when ? where ? what happened ?? » there’s panic in her voice, an immediate need for answers, but the barn, quiet with slow songs up until now, suddenly bursts with life and a pop song that has people jumping up and down all around them drowns out the sound of teddy. « are you okay ?? »

HE HARDLY REMEMBERS even uttering the truth to maxine, with his mind so foggy and disoriented. between the drugs, alcohol, lack of sleep, and general TURMOIL he's been through, it's hard to keep track of anything that comes out of his mouth. he can feel that sinking feeling, all too familiar with the way it settles in his chest like it belongs there, burrows between his lungs and forces his feet harder into the ground like its trying to keep him from floating away, a feeling so foreign but so quick to make itself at home within him.

max's questions come out like a stream and teddy's pressing his lips together, shoulders shrugged as he starts to take a few steps backwards. music starts playing loudly from nearby and crowds of dancing bodies make their way closer to them. teddy's walking backwards now, gaze still on max as he nears closer to the groups of people. "are any of us okay, maxy?" he calls out. a cackle, one that's almost cynical, escapes him and he shakes his head, then turns to begin weaving through the crowds. then, to himself, he mumbles: "doubtful."

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || max #we can end here on this melodramatic moment FKLSDJ #drugs tw

jamie !

teddy’s inner turmoil goes unnoticed by jamie, who’s still processing the words as they leave his own lips. he doesn’t want to be here anymore– he wants to be alone in his room, to shut the door to everything outside and not let anyone or anything in for the rest of time. but instead he’s here, freezing his ass off in these stupid shorts and his dad doesn’t fucking exist anymore. he hasn’t existed for some time now, from the way it sounds.

“he said that jerry, uh, that he got hurt. shot,” the words come out in almost a monotone, even though jamie feels like he’s about to start screaming and puking at the same time. “right when he disappeared.” it still doesn’t feel real, so jamie turns his focus to the easier emotion: anger toward kem. “all this time he knew, and he said fucking nothing.” jamie’s fists clench, one of them still bloody in the knuckles from when he hit kem a few minutes ago. “let us look around for clues like goddamn idiots, let us think maybe jerry would come back.” he’s starting to feel dizzy, the alcohol mixing poorly with his current state of shock. “but he’s not coming back, teddy. he’s not.”

KEEP IT TOGETHER. keep it together. his internal monologue is pleading at this point, his psyche on its knees begging for this dark being to step back instead of take over his consciousness, rid him of being capable of anything but hyperventilating and falling to the floor. PLEASE. jesus, now is not the time to lose your shit. his lips part and concern etches onto his features as he takes a hesitant step towards jamie. he needs to be honest. he needs to open up to him. but can he, if all he can do is recognize his breathing? "jamie–" his voice sounds so far from his body. "hey. we don't..." he swallows hard and shakes his head. "we don't know that for sure, man." his mouth hangs ajar as he scrambles to find the right words to say. he's never been great at that to begin with. "jerry helped me out a lot when i first moved here." his tongue glides across the surface of his teeth. "i want him back as much as anyone. there's–" he shrugs. "there's too much gray area. we need facts, you know? and– and we'll get them. and we'll... we'll go from there."

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || jamie #we can end this wherever my luv <3 #i know this is old and i am trash

marty !

🎸

marty chooses to actively attempt not to think about the last time she and teddy were in the woods together. instead, they shift their focus to the crackle of the firewood, the way the flames roar in an hypnotising way — but even then, their brain is going at a hundred miles per hour. with a sigh, they lean back on their hands. they hate the silence that has settled between her and teddy — and not just in that moment. a few weeks before, if someone were to tell them this is where they would be, marty would have called them out on their bullshit. “maybe it’s good that you did, in a way. if you think about it, we have a better shot at keepin’ our head above water if we actually just do shit together.” not that they would remember that the next time they decided to investigate anyone’s file — even in their mind, it’s a joke. mostly.

they let a few seconds pass before they actually look at teddy. god, he looks terrible — tired, exhausted, really, seemingly hopeless and a ghost of the teddy marty knows. “besides, was kinda scared you’d just decide to disappear into the woods,” marty comments playfully as they shrug, trying to difuse whatever stupid kind of tension there is both in the situation and between them, “befriend the beast or something.”

"I JUST HOPE–" he shifts a bit in his spot on the ground, digging his heels into the dirt underneath him as he does. fingers curl into the blotchy patches of grass, anxiety twisting unforgivingly around his body. he sniffles and makes a point to avoid eye contact with marty. "–i just hope i stop fucking things up. feels like that's all i've been doing." and that's an understatement: it's as if his life isn't his anymore. it hasn't been his for months; a puppet being manipulated by the cruelest of puppeteers.

teddy lifts his head at the mentioning of the woods— it's a safe assumption that he'd stroll in and possibly just keep going, but he's not about to admit to that. the last thing he wants are more eyes on him at this point. he laughs once, a short chuckle in the form of an exhale through his nostrils, and his gaze continues to linger on the shoes burning in front of him. "tempting," he mumbles. it's brief, the way he looks up at marty, eyes on hers, then down to their lips, then swiftly YANKED away to refocus on the fire. at this point, it's a matter of picking between two things burning to their demise: his friendship with marty, or one of the final pieces of evidence from the night of the shooting. "i'm sorry, marty." his eyes well up with tears but he doesn't dare to acknowledge it. he swallows hard at a lump in his throat and shakes his head. "if it's any recollection, i mean, if the bar for feeling like shit is on the ground..." his voice quivers as he glances back over at them and an exasperated laugh escapes him. "i'm six feet under, dude."

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || marty #anxiety tw #death tw

@mvxsinc !

"I COME BEARING gifts..." teddy makes his entrance in his own apartment with a bag filled with chinese food takeout. there's a spot down the road, close enough to walk to but far enough to make it a decent stroll for winnie. naturally, she bursts through the door before teddy, wiggles her way through as soon as he opens it. she runs in, tail wagging as she drags her leash on the ground to rush her way over to maxine. you'd think she hadn't seen the girl in weeks.

he kicks the door closed and sets the food down on their kitchen table, then unhooks the leash from winnie's collar. this could arguably be the thing that teddy has missed most about his life pre-jerry disappearance: it's his friendship with his roommate. they used to be so much CLOSER. they'd spend time together, cook, watch movies, listen to music, but now all of that just sounds like an exertion of energy that teddy can't spare. now that, well, all of the dirty laundry is out to hang, it's time he makes feeble attempts at rekindling what he once had, though there's no changing their current reality. "i heard you mention wonton soup the other day, so..." he's opening the brown bag and lifting a clear container of soup, which he sets gently on the table. "there you have it."

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || max #this will get better i promise

open ! ( @volumeupdates )

HE THOUGHT HE'D feel at least a little bit better after coming clean about the shooting but oddly enough, teddy almost feels WORSE. still, in his uneasy state of mind, he had taken advantage of the intense paranoia that seems to have settled behind his eyes to create some sort of unnecessary alibi— he's in a clearing in the woods, his neighbor's borrowed tent pitched near the small bonfire he's created. his white high top converse sit next to him and he can barely bring himself to look at them, terrified to look at that tiny splatter on the toe on the left shoe. whose blood is that? he'd stay up all night wondering, and he has, and it's about time to close that chapter.

his lip quivers as he sits with his forearms resting on his bent knees, gaze unwavering as he stares at the fire in front of him. one swipe of his sniffling nose and a tear drop is enough to signal him to get his shit together and in one swift motion, he grabs both shoes by the laces and tosses them in. they don't immediately get swallowed by the flames— they're greeted gently, the licks of fire curl onto them like some deadly embrace. it's now that teddy's eyes shift to the other, only to refocus on the fire. "you didn't have to come," he mutters. "i already dragged you into this. i mean, i dragged EVERYONE into this. i didn’t want to but... here we are, i guess."

#♪♫♬ || thread #blood tw #gun violence tw

max !

AT HIS WORDS, MAXINE’S ARMS COME UP immediately to embrace her friend. it won’t take the bad feeling away entirely, she knows that, but maybe they’re both in need of the shared warmth right now. the past month hasn’t been easy on any of them. « okay, that’s alright. we feel bad sometimes, but it always passes, » max reassures teddy. she lets go of him and follows his gaze as if they’re looking for someone. or something.

his next words hit her hard — she’d never be able to hate him. « no, teddy — » and then maxine stops, noticing the error in her line. for years she’s been using his nickname without fault. teddy is a testament to the fact that they have slipped apart, been unable to communicate, been living separate lives for weeks now where none have been able to fit the other. and that’s not teddy’s fault. not entirely anyway. « bear, » she corrects herself, wondering if it’s too late, if he’s already noticed. he seems out of it — maybe maxine is lucky. « we’ve just dealt with things differently. please don’t say that. you’re one of my best friends. » and she worries, so damn much, that maybe she’s missed the signs, too caught up in her own little storm. « i haven’t been my best either. »

"I DON'T KNOW about that this time, though." it's a cynical laughter that bubbles from his lips as he waves his index finger at maxine's remark— we feel bad sometimes, but it always passes. that's the thing, too: it's hard to think that something like this will pass. it hasn't yet. it's bound not to at this point. is this the life he's succumbed to? just nonstop misery, jumping at loud sounds, guilt three times his body weight, little sleep, and the only way to feel somewhat put together is by being under the influence?

"you've been great, maxy." his words slur a bit as he speaks and places a hand on her shoulder, mostly to steady himself. the smirk on his lips is evident, though there's not much emotion behind it. "it's just that the NEW teddy is a dick but i guess that's what happens when you witness someone get gunned down." a snicker leaves him and he lifts his hand from her shoulder, only to bring it to his face. he drags down for a moment and sighs. "i missed you calling me bear, though. reminds me you don’t hate me all that much.”

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || max #murder tw #gun violence tw

jamie !

everything about jamie feels heavy. his breathing, his eyes, the way he walks away from kem with no discernible direction, just knowing he has to get away. rage and disbelief twist inside him like knives, each one competing to make the deeper cut. what the fuck is he supposed to do now? where is he supposed to go? what’s he supposed to say to anyone now that he knows what he knows? he channeled his initial anger into kem, but it just made everything feel worse. it’s too much, he has to get away, he has to–

“what?” he responds to teddy, not processing a single word his friend just said. jamie looks up at him, one of the last people he would’ve sought out right now, and knows this is going to make him explode if he doesn’t say it to someone else. might as well start spreading the news, right?

“jerry, uh, jerry’s dead,” he blurts out unceremoniously, the words feeling numb on his tongue. he uses jerry’s name because he can’t bring himself to say the alternative– my dad’s dead. no. absolutely not. “at least, he probably is. he got shot, a couple months back. right when he disappeared. kem just told me.”

IMMEDIATELY, HIS MIND is racing so fast, he can't keep up with it. his emotions are all over the place, twisting with each other until he can't decipher what he feels. sick to his stomach, like he's about to pass out, horror, unadulterated HORROR at how this came about. this is no way for someone to find out about the demise of their father, even if it's not 100% confirmed. teddy hasn't been thinking rationally for a while at this point, he's not about to start now.

"what? what are you–" his brows furrow and he turns to face jamie, someone he's utterly terrified of. jesus, he fucked this guy over so badly. he fucked everyone over. KEM JUST TOLD ME. "what?" he's a broken record at this point. his heart sinks as if it's heading right to the earth's core. "what did kem say?"

#♪♫♬ || thread #ft. || jamie #parental death tw #gun violence tw #death tw #not this being this short im sorry

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