#but bar-knocking is such a complex problem

[chukys-mouthguard]

slim pickins

a boy who’s jacked and kind, can’t find his ass to save my life

featuring -> arber xhekaj x female reader

word count -> 1.1k

genre -> fluff, very mild mild angst

-> short n’ sweet series masterlist

You let out a sigh as you made your way up the stairs of your apartment complex, another night seemingly wasted on a guy who only took you to dinner to try and get in your pants afterwards. And while sure, it had been awhile since you’d slept with anyone, you weren’t solely looking for that. And sex on the first date was never a good start to a relationship in your eyes.

So now here you are, going home with your tail between your legs after another failed date. A bottle of wine calling your name once you took off your makeup and swapped your heels and uncomfortable bodysuit for an oversized T-shirt and reruns of Gossip Girl.

Fumbling with your keys as they got caught in the zipper of your bag, you let out a groan.

“Woah, tough night?”

Your neighbor Arber smiled at you as he came up the stairs, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he watched you struggling.

“Yes, Arber. Thank you for pointing out the obvious.”

With a huff, you finally got your keys untangled and unlocked the door of your unit. Heading inside you kicked off your heels and threw your bag on the counter, leather jacket flying across the room to land on the couch as you made a b-line for the fridge to get your hands on that bottle of wine.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

You practically ripped the handle from your fridge as you jumped. Arber had a habit of lingering, and while you appreciate how he took interest in your life and when you were upset, he could do a better job at not scaring the crap out of you.

“Arber, seriously?! How many times do I have to tell you to knock or make your presence known a little less jumpscary?”

“Sorry.”

He laughed as he closed the door, taking off his own jacket and laying it over the back of a bar stool tucked under the kitchen island.

“So, what was this guy’s problem? Did he smell? Oh no, I got it. He likes to collect stamps.”

Shooting him a glare you returned the wine to the fridge after pouring two glasses, then sliding one to Arber.

“My grandpa collected stamps, relax. And no, didn’t smell. Simply just wanted in my pants, like all the other guys out there.”

Arber found himself a spot on your couch while you quickly went to change, opting for an oversized shirt and shorts now that you had company. Sure Arber had accidentally seen you in nothing but a t-shirt the few times he’d come barging in without warning, but you didn’t willingly want to give him anything to get wide eyed over.

“Hey now, not all guys want in your pants, you just must have really shitty luck with the ones you find.”

You rolled your eyes as you found a spot adjacent to him on the couch, taking a healthy sip of your wine.

“I just. I don’t know, I like to think I’m a catch. Like any guy would be lucky to find me. But it just feels like I’m never good enough, and I always end up hurt and alone. Maybe I’m just meant to be a single cat lady in this life.”

Though you were somewhat joking about the forever alone comment, you couldn’t help but feel like maybe there was some truth to it. Trying not to let the wine get you in your feelings, especially in front of Arber. Though you’d grown close, you didn’t feel like your relationship was on the level of crying while wine tipsy just yet.

“Y/n, stop with the pity party, you know none of that is true.”

“But what if it is? I mean, you said it yourself I suck at picking guys. Why don’t I deserve to find a guy that will listen, that wants to be around me, that likes me for me! Not just for the opportunity to get in my pants at the end of the night. Why can’t I find a guy like that? One who is kind, funny, can deal with my sarcasm and silliness and dish it right back. Why is that too much for me to ask for?”

Arber sighed as he set down his wine glass, sitting up on the couch as he pondered how to say what was on his mind. Not wanting to come across mean, but he felt that maybe some tough love was what you needed.

“You know what your problem is y/n? You’re oblivious!”

His words came out a bit harsher than he’d wanted, but the few drinks he’d had at the bar earlier mixed with the glass of wine had him feeling a bit relaxed and comfortable speaking his mind to you.

“Excuse me?”

He paced the floor as he let out a slight laugh, running a hand through his hair while you sat up confused.

“You’re so fucking busy looking for Mr. Perfect who checks all your boxes, that you fail to see a good guy when they are staring you in the face. You’re too hung up on the apps, face buried in your phone as you swipe left and right, that you fail to realize that maybe what you’ve been looking for, has been right in front of you. But don’t worry, message received loud and clear. Sorry I don’t want to sit around and hear you complain about your shitty luck with guys and how no one sticks around, when I’ve been here the whole fucking time. Goodnight y/n.”

With a slam of your door he was gone, and you couldn’t have felt like a bigger idiot. Of course, it was clear as day.

Arber.

Every time you’d come home crying because of a shitty date, or embarrassed because of the guy being a total weirdo, and every other story inbetween. Arber was always there. A glass of wine and a handful of jokes to make you feel better. To pick you back up and get you feeling confident in yourself again. To help you feel like there was still hope of finding someone. But little did you know they were just across the hall this whole time.

“Y/n you fucking idiot.”

Setting down your glass you quickly made your way across the hall. Hesitating as you pondered whether Arber would even open the door for you. But as you faintly knocked three times, you heard the lock click, and he soon appeared from behind the frame.

“Hi, I’m not sure if we’ve met? I’m y/n, and, I know this is random and possibly extremely forward of me. But I had a shitty first date tonight, and I’ve got a bottle of wine calling my name but I figured some company might be nice? Would you like to join me for a glass?”

A soft smile appeared on Arber’s lips as he accepted your hand in a shake, stepping out into the hall before closing the door behind him.

“Nice to meet you y/n, I’m Arber. And I’d love to join you.”

[ceoofsammonroe]

Cherry - Clay Beresford

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six |

Summary: Clay Beresford was one of Manhattan’s most notorious playboys. His name, and the money that came with it, garnered him a big reputation. Bored of the spotlight and in need of a distraction, Clay ventures to a hole-in-the-wall strip club in the Lower East Side. When he sees you walk out on that stage, he knows at once that you could be the one to rewrite his story.

Warnings: stripper!reader, playboy!Clay, reader works at a strip club and a lot of the story takes place there, descriptions of sex work, reader has a tragic backstory, mentions of abuse, mentions of homelessness, alcohol consumption, Clay doesn’t have heart problems, eventual smut, pining, angst, Clay has a savior complex, reader doesn’t know how to have non-transactional relationships.

Playlist / Masterlist

Clay Beresford nursed a glass of whiskey as he tried to tune out the droning of yet another young entrepreneur giving him a business pitch.

He went through the motions — nodding and humming, asking the occasional question, taking the knock-off business card — in hopes that they would be satisfied and leave him to his night.

All he wanted was to have a drink and relax, but everywhere he went he was bombarded by people who saw him as an opportunity instead of a person.

He supposed it came with the territory of carrying the Beresford name. He’d inherited an empire from his father, vile as he was, and essentially walked around with dollar signs flashing above his head.

He wasn’t ungrateful for his life, nor did he stray away from the benefits it gave him, he was just…frustrated. He never knew if the people in his life were there because they wanted to know him or because they wanted to know his money. More often than not, it was the latter.

He needed a distraction — something that made him feel a sense of normalcy for once. He finished the last of his whiskey, setting the empty glass down on the marble bar top. He offered a polite goodbye to the bartender and the scrambling businessman before grabbing his coat and walking out of the building.

His driver was already waiting for him outside and he climbed into the backseat of the black SUV, mumbling vague directions as he rubbed at his temples. The driver gave him an odd look in the rear view mirror, but didn’t question it as he drove off toward the Lower East Side.

Clay didn’t venture to this area of Manhattan often — hardly ever, actually — but, when he did, nobody ever noticed him. They had their own lives to deal with and didn’t need to be obsessed with his.

Maybe that was what was drawing him here this time. He wanted to be able to slink into the shadows, just for a little while.

As they drove, Clay watched the city pass from the car window. He cocked his head in interest as they passed a joint with a bright red sign flashing above it.

The Silk Rose.

A gentleman’s club. He snorted, doubting there were any gentlemen in there at all. Still, his interest was piqued. Maybe a night in a sleazy club watching girls dance around in lingerie was exactly what he needed.

He told his driver to park up the street a bit, careful not to draw too much attention to himself. With his hands in his pockets, he kept his head down as he made his way over to the entrance.

The windows and doors were blacked out, preventing any prying eyes from peeking in.

Perfect, he thought. This was just the kind of privacy he was looking for.

He grabbed the door handle, glancing up at the tagline written above his head.

Come on in and see Sal’s Dancing Girls!

The night had been slower for you than usual.

There were the regulars, sitting in their normal spots, but you’d barely broken $250 and hadn’t gotten a single private room booking. Granted, private dances certainly weren’t your favorite part of the job, but they were what made the big bucks. You could handle a creep or two if it meant your bills were paid.

You sat in the dressing room backstage, touching up your makeup and rubbing at your feet that were from the tall heels you wore as you waited for your next set. The area was bustling with the other dancers, all in different states of undress and disarray.

You didn’t mind what you did. You liked dancing — although you’d thought you’d be pursuing dance in a different direction than where you’d ended up. You weren’t forced into this life, like some of the others. You were here by choice. It just maybe wasn’t your first choice.

You were confident in it, though. You knew how to work a room. You knew how to manipulate sleazy men into emptying their wallets. You were always in control.

You certainly didn’t need anyone to save you.

You heard the last song of the previous dancer’s set end and took one more look in the mirror. You removed your robe and adjusted the skimpy costume before taking a deep breath and walking toward the back of the stage.

Showtime.

Clay sat at the bar, prying his glass up from the sticky table and taking a sip as one of the dancers exited the stage. He watched as the workers swept up the money that had been thrown, gathering it into a bag before bringing it to the back.

She’d been fine. Her set was pretty par for the course as far as Clay could expect. He’d still found himself zoning out or focusing more on his drink than her dancing.

After the stage was fully cleared off, the lights dimmed to a deep red as a new song started. It was like the energy in the room shifted. Suddenly, everyone was waiting with bated breath as the next dancer took the stage.

Clay sat up straighter in his seat, setting his glass down as the spotlight hit the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was captivated, mesmerized. Even the way you walked was enticing. He leaned forward, hanging on to every move you made.

He wasn’t the only one, either. You had the entire room wrapped around your finger.

Clay watched as you worked the stage, feeling the energy from the crowd. Then, you began to dance.

He felt breathless. His heart was pounding beneath his chest. The way you moved was like a song in and of itself. You were the music. Your movements told a story and he was very, very curious to unravel it.

You fell into the rhythmic routine, working the stage like you owned it — and, in that moment, you did. The lights warmed your skin as you moved your body to the sensual beat of the music, putting on a tantalizing show of removing bits of your costume until you were left in lingerie.

You scanned the audience, as you normally did, looking for anyone who seemed easy to reel in. People would be surprised at how many extra tips you get when the lonely people in the crowd think you’ve noticed them. However, this time, your eyes landed on one man in particular.

You hadn’t seen him at this club before, but he looked vaguely familiar — and devilishly handsome. He seemed to be transfixed on you, so you let your eyes stay locked with his.

The crystalline blue pulled you in, but there was something else about the way he was looking at you. You were used to stares of lust, envy, even ownership — but he was gazing at you with pure interest. The kind of interest that went beyond physical attraction. He wasn’t just watching you take your clothes off. He was watching you dance.

As the music of your last song faded out you gave the crowd a grin and a wave, winking at the handsome stranger before exiting the stage.

You walked back to your vanity, plopping down in the chair with a tired huff. One of the staff members brought you the bag with your tips and you sorted through it, counting the bills. It wasn’t bad, but it could’ve been better.

You groaned, tired of the slow night, and glanced at the clock. There was only a little over an hour left in your shift.

“What’s wrong, babycakes?”

You turned your head to face the dancer whose vanity was next to yours. She had her chin propped on her hand as she looked at you, her bright pink hair pinned to the top of her head.

Frenchie was the name she went by. She was the only dancer that ever had actual conversations with you. She was nice, if a bit eccentric, and you were grateful for the friendly face.

“Just a slow night, French,” you sighed, shrugging your shoulders.

She scoffed, taking a drag of a cigarette as she said, “Shit, doll. If it’s a slow night for you then it’s a wasteland for the rest of us.”

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, please,” Frenchie sigh, playfully rolling her eyes. “You’re the fan favorite, babes. Everyone here knows it. That’s why I’m the only one who talks to you.”

You swatted your hand at her with a laugh, shaking your head as you smiled. You spotted your boss, Sal, walking up behind you in your mirror and you tilted your head back to look at him.

“Someone’s requesting you,” he said, gruff as always.

“See?” Frenchie said, sticking her tongue out at you.

You stuck your tongue out back at her before turning back to Sal. “Who is it?”

“Does it matter? He’s paying,” he grunted, shrugging as he rolled his eyes. “It’s room four.”

Sal walked out of the dressing room as you touched up your hair and makeup, glancing over at Frenchie as she prepared to go do her set on stage.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” she said, smacking your ass as she walked past you.

“Knock ‘em dead, French,” you called out after her, laughing softly.

You took a deep, steadying breath as you walked down the long hallway, readying yourself to face whatever greaseball would be waiting for you. This was where you made the most money, it just also happened to be the part you hated the most.

You stopped outside of the door labeled with the big number 4 and gave a silent plea to whatever was out there that this would go by smoothly.

To your delight, you didn’t see any of the sleazy regulars when you opened the door. Instead, you saw the handsome stranger who had been watching you so intently during your set.

A sultry smile pulled at your lips as you locked eyes with him. You weren’t supposed to enjoy these sessions — this was work, after all, and you were doing a job — but it didn’t hurt when the clients looked this pretty.

“I was hoping it was you that requested me,” you said, walking into the room with a sway of your hips.

It was true, but you would’ve said it regardless. That was the job. Make them feel seen and important so that they handed over more money.

The handsome stranger’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at you, seeming to relax into the moment.

“I’m happy not to let you down, then,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Please, join me.”

He gestured over to a bottle of champagne resting in a bucket of ice by the plush leather couch. His gaze lingered on you as you walked into the room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. He felt a sense of excitement building within him — an anticipation that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Your eyes almost widened. Champagne? You were lucky to get so much as a polite introduction when you worked these rooms. You hadn’t ever had a customer provide refreshments. By the looks of the bottle, it wasn’t the cheap kind either.

Who was this man and why did he feel so familiar?

“So, tell me,” he said, pouring some of the champagne into a glass and offering it to you, “what’s your name?”

You kept up your performance facade, taking the glass from him and batting your lashes.

“It’s in poor form to ask personal details of the dancers,” you tutted, a teasing smile adorning your lips. “You can call me Cherry.”

All of the dancers had names that you went by. Yours just so happened to be Cherry. The name held a certain significance to you and you were grateful for the protection of identity — in more ways than one.

“Ah, Cherry,” he smiled, the name sitting nicely on his tongue. “I like that. I’m Clay.”

He paused for a moment, studying you as if he was waiting for some kind of reaction. When he didn’t get one, he nodded with a small smile and relaxed into the couch.

“I hope you enjoy the champagne,” he said, bringing his own glass to his lips. “I thought it might make you more comfortable while we…talk.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, taking a sip of the delicious bubbles. People who rented these rooms didn’t usually want to talk. They wanted you to dance and wanted to see how far they could bend the rules.

There were certain rules that you and the customers had to follow. Neither the dancers nor the customers could be fully nude, the customers and the dancers could not touch each other, and under no circumstances could the dancers maintain personal or intimate relationships with the customers.

Clay seemed…different. He was tempting in all of the wrong ways. You knew you had to tread carefully.

“So, Cherry,” Clay began, throwing an arm across the back of the couch, “what do you like to do for fun?”

A playful smirk pulled at your lips as you asked, “Is this not fun?”

Clay’s eyes lit up at your question and he laughed — a deep, rich sound.

“Oh, it’s definitely fun,” he said, smiling, “but I was thinking more along the lines of getting to know you. I’d love to learn more about you.” He paused, his eyes searching yours. “If you’re willing to share, of course.”

Getting to know you? This guy books a stripper to get to know her?

“Respectable,” you nodded. “Most people just book me to see how close they can get to touching me. You can’t, by the way. Touch me, that is. It’s strictly against the rules.”

You set your champagne glass down on the table and walked over to the stereo to turn on some slow, sensual music.

“You paid for an hour long dance, so I’d be doing a poor job if I didn’t comply,” you said, sauntering back over to him.

You should’ve just started dancing and stuck to your job, but his pretty eyes were so intrigued that you couldn’t say no to him.

“How about this,” you offered, “you ask questions while I dance. Deal?”

Clay’s eyes gleamed with delight as he nodded, clearly pleased with himself.

“Deal,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Oh, and Cherry?”

He set his glass down before leaning back into the couch with a grin.

“I have to warn you, I’m not very good at following rules.”

You placed your hands on the cushion behind his head, leaning over him as you swayed your hips.

“If you want to keep the session going, you’d better be,” you whispered, warning in your tone. “Otherwise, the fun would be over. So keep your hands by your sides, pretty boy.”

His eyes flashed with amusement as he raised an eyebrow, but he obediently placed his hands at his sides.

“Oh, I’ll be good,” he promised. “I wouldn’t want the fun to stop.”

He trailed his gaze over your figure, watching as you danced.

“Back to my original question, Cherry,” he said, flicking his eyes back up to yours. “What do you like to do when you aren’t…dancing?”

You stood up again, seductively twirling and swaying to the beat as you thought about the question.

You weren’t sure how much you wanted to reveal to him. He was still just a pretty face — a very tempting pretty face. He wasn’t the first person to come in here with delusions of grandeur. You didn’t want him to reel you in.

“I like to read,” you said, rolling your hips. “I like to watch cheesy romance movies, and I’m a damn good cook.”

His eyes sparkled with interest as you answered, his gaze never leaving yours.

“A woman of many talents,” he murmured, a soft smile on his face. He leaned forward slightly as he asked, “What kind of romance movies do you like to watch?”

“The ones with every cliche in the book,” you grinned, swirling around to the music. “I want the sappy love confessions, the angsty miscommunication, and the big fight that leads to the romantic kiss in the rain.”

You leaned over him again, rotating your hips as you bent down to whisper in his ear, “and it’s gotta have a good sex scene.”

Clay’s gaze darkened at your words, his breathing quickening. He felt a surge of desire course through his veins and he had to force himself to remain still, to not reach out and touch you.

He paused for a moment, then asked, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You laughed softly in his ear, leaning back up as you continued dancing.

“That kind of thing only exists in fiction, pretty boy,” you said, trying not to sound bitter.

He smiled, cocking his head to the side with a small laugh.

“Maybe,” he replied, his voice dripping with skepticism, “but I think there’s something to be said for the idea that two people can just click, you know?”

He leaned toward, his eyes locked onto yours as he said, “I think maybe we click, Cherry.”

You scoffed, an amused smile etched into your features as you rolled your eyes.

“Do you know how many people come here and claim they fell in love with me? People pay me to give them a show, and I deliver. It’s all transactional. I’m in the business of temporarily filling the vacant holes in people’s lives.”

Clay’s eyes never left yours, his expression tense with something that bordered understanding.

“Yes, I do,” he said, his voice serious. “I’m not naive enough to think that we’re anything more than what we are here tonight…but sometimes, Cherry, I think people need a little bit of fantasy. Just for tonight, let’s forget about life and reality outside of these walls. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company, okay?”

A pretty face that spoke pretty words.

Damn him.

“Fine,” you obliged, smiling despite yourself. “Still, no touching, but you can carry on with your questions.”

“Excellent,” he said, his eyes sparkling with triumph as his mouth curled into a satisfied grin. “What’s the most memorable performance you’ve ever given?”

You smiled, playfully, and responded, “Seventh grade ballet recital, hands down. Not a dry eye in the house.”

“Seventh grade, huh?” Clay chuckled. “I never would’ve guessed. What made it so memorable?”

A fond smile graced your lips as you let your mind reminisce on a memory you didn’t usually let yourself wander to.

“I used to have really terrible stage fright. I’d get under the lights and I’d just freeze. I had been working really hard all year on this solo and I got selected to perform in the recital. Right as I went on stage, I forgot every piece of choreography. I was so panicked, I wanted to run off the stage and hide. Then, I heard the music start and I just…danced. I let the music move me. To this day, it’s still the freest I’ve ever felt.”

You shook your head, instantly regretting the vulnerability.

“Never mind that, though,” you laughed. “You think everything is world changing when you’re that age.”

Clay’s eyes softened, his expression becoming more contemplative. “I think that’s beautiful,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “The fact that you were able to find freedom in that moment, despite your fears and doubts…it’s truly inspiring.” He paused, his gaze lingering on yours. “I think that’s what makes human connection so powerful. We can be ourselves, without apology, and find freedom in that vulnerability.” The skin by his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “Speaking of which, Cherry…do you believe everyone has a story worth telling?”

“I think there are stories to be found everywhere, if you look hard enough,” you shrugged, refilling his champagne glass.

“Ah, a philosopher, too,” he smirked, his voice ripe with amusement. “I think you might be the most fascinating person I’ve met in a very long time.”

He thought for a moment as he took the champagne glass, then said, “Would you like to hear a story, Cherry?”

“A dance for a story,” you pondered. “I think that’s a fair transaction.”

Clay’s eyes lit up with excitement as he sipped his drink. “Excellent,” he grinned, settling back into the couch. “I’ve always loved the story of Romeo and Juliet. The passion, the tragedy, the love that consumed them both. Imagine if Romeo and Juliet lived in modern times, Cherry. Would they still fall in love? Would they still meet the same fate?”

“I think Romeo and Juliet were two horny teenagers, too naive for their own good,” you smirked, swaying to the music.

Your movements absentmindedly transitioned from sensual to holding the essence of his storytelling as he spoke.

“Ah, but that’s what makes their story so tragic,” he countered, shaking his head. “Their naivety is what drives them to take such reckless risks, to chase after a love that seems impossible. Yet, despite the danger, despite the obstacles, despite the fact that they come from different worlds…they still manage to find each other, to connect on a deeper level. Don’t you think that’s what makes love so intoxicating?”

He paused, his gaze searching yours before he laughed softly and said, “Or am I just a hopeless romantic?”

“You’re hopeless, alright,” you joked, despite the fact that his words managed to pang your heart.

You did not fall in love. You didn’t even think about love. One stranger’s pretty words weren’t going to change that. This was transactional.

His stories were so compelling, though…

You leaned over him again, bringing your face as close to his as you could without making contact.

“You know what I think?” You whispered, glancing down at his lips. “I think our time is up.”

The clock rang, signaling that the hour was over. You straightened up and stepped back, giving him one last wink.

“Thanks for the story, pretty boy.”

Clay’s face seemed to fall with disappointment as you pulled away from him, but his voice remained smooth and charming.

“Until next time, Cherry.”

As you left the room and returned to your vanity, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. His words lingered with you, throwing you off balance.

You gathered your things and changed into your regular clothing, clocking out at the back door. As you were about to leave, Sal stopped you and handed you a wad of cash.

“Here,” he said, “for the private room.”

You’d been so caught up in the moment with Clay that you hadn’t even stopped to think about the fact that you didn’t get a single dollar from him.

You thumbed through the cash, expecting to see the usual earnings of maybe $50 or so. Your eyes widened as you counted out $1,000.

He’d tipped you that much? What kind of man was he?

Normally, you didn’t any of the customers a second thought once you were away from work, but this one wouldn’t worm his way out of your head.

Damn these men and their pretty words and ideas of love and fate. That was a life you had left behind.

Once you’d returned home to your apartment, you showered the day off of your skin and changed into more comfortable clothing. You made yourself a quick dinner before settling into your couch and flicking the television on.

The screen lit up in the middle of some story on a celebrity gossip channel. You were only half listening as you ate your food, your mind still reeling from the events that had occurred with the handsome stranger. You couldn’t shake that something still felt so familiar about him.

Your ears perked up at the sound of a name that struck a chord deep within you. Your jaw dropped as you glanced up at the screen, seeing those dazzling blue eyes and his crinkled smile.

The reporters voice rang out about the youngest CEO Manhattan had ever seen as your heart sank to your feet.

Holy shit.

The handsome stranger was Clay fucking Beresford.

[hardlyinteresting]

Lemon drops

Jake Seresin x reader

Nights at The Hard Deck just got a lot more interesting.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please), I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended)

This one-shot will exist in the same universe as other one-shots I have planned. But, they can all be read entirely independently.

Word count: 1.3K

Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

Friday nights at The Hard Deck are always busy. Sailors and pilots all stopping by on their way home from base eager to let loose, that's to be expected. What he's not expecting is to walk in on a bachelorette party in full swing. 

In a Navy town, it's not completely unheard of for last-minute bachelor and bachelorette parties to fill the local dives, but the larger-than-normal crowd and the young woman dancing on one of the tables has Jake rolling his shoulders back before he settles into the night. He'd been looking for a chill vibe, a cold beer and a few rounds at the pool table. But, he won't complain about a night of flirting, he fancies his odds in a room full of jealous bridesmaids and tag chasers.

Rooster and Coyote seem to have gotten a head start if the empty glasses, or the girls they're helping line up shots at the pool table are any indicator. 

Leaning against the bar Jake waits patiently for Penny to finish making a tray of shots. Lemon-coloured liquid poured from the silver shaker he's so rarely seen used at The Hard Deck, into sugar-rimmed 1 oz glasses. His eyes follow the tray over to the crowd of already tipsy ladies all dressed up to celebrate the blonde in her “bride” sash and tiara. But his attention lingers on the woman who laughs brightly as she raises the tiny glass for a toast. 

“To the bride! I think I speak for everyone when I say that we love you so much, and we're all so excited for this next chapter of your life!” The rest of the party cheers in response, “Now, let's get drunk and start drinking something that's not just sugar”

She's quick to down the lemon drop shot, quickly licking the drip that rolls down the back of her hand. She's sun-kissed and glowing even under the dim overhead lights. She must be from the area, not just passing through. The music is loud and the bar chatter is louder, and she's stunning as she moves her hips to the sound stepping down from the table. She's licked away the sugar rim on the glass by the time she makes it through the crowd to lean at the bar next to him. It's only when Penny sets a beer in front of him that he realizes he's been staring at the mystery girl. 

She's even cuter up close. And for the first time in a long time, he's speechless. Several recycled one-liners rattle around inside his head, but not a single one feels like it's worth the breath. Something about the way she moves through the room, either unaware or intentionally disinterested as several other patrons turn their heads to look her way, tells him she'll have no trouble shooting him down. Regretfully, it only makes him more intrigued. 

And as if she couldn't get sweeter, the scent of her perfume or her shampoo, or the hell if he knows knocks him back. Brown sugar and vanilla. Of course, she smells like sugar. He scolds himself as he replays the image of her pink-tongued and unctuous in her attempt to clean the syrupy glaze dripping across the back of her hand. He may be a self-proclaimed flirt and widely identified playboy but he does do his best to be a gentleman. Despite his attempts to think of church surgeons, or his mother's lectures, geography lessons, or complex aerodynamics, he knows it will be ages before he's able to completely erase the surprising saccharine bar room sight from his mind. 

“Whiskey, please,” she asks Penny, “and thank you for making those shots”.

“For you girls it's no problem,” Penny insists, sliding the glass of whisky across the bar. 

If he bothered to look up he'd catch her raking her own eyes across his form, paying attention to read his name badge, and trace his pins in an attempt to keep herself from ogling his broad shoulders, and strong arms. The khaki uniform does him all sorts of favours. Penny gives her a knowing smirk as she slides the whiskey across the bar.

Unashamed, his eyes follow the intriguing girl back across the room lingering too long on the back pockets of her little denim shorts. 

He's no stranger to wooing pretty girls in bars. He won't brag, but he's got an admirable success rate when it comes to finding a partner for the evening (and he's never heard any complaints). But, something about this girl is different. She's not just pretty, but she's stunning in a girl-next-door kind of way that damn near knocks him off his feet. The way she talks with her friends, and laughs without hesitation has a smile forming on his own face and he feels like a damn idiot for watching her from across the room. She pays no mind to any of the pilots or other patrons who mosey over to shoot their shot with her and the rest of her party, but she accepts every challenge that comes her way at the dartboard and the pool table. 

“What's wrong hangman? Cat got your tongue?” Penny laughs, “I was sure you were going to try to chat her up”. 

The truth is for the first time in a long time he feels like he might be out of his depth. Like a schoolboy with a crush on the new girl in class. 

“The night is still young,” he shrugs. 

But the night flies by, he drinks his beers, and laughs with his own friends, makes his own bets, but never crosses the room. 

She buys her own drinks, and corrals her drunk friends safely into the backs of taxi cabs, calling out for them to text her when they get home. And when closing time rolls around she settles her tab and says goodbye to Penny with a hug, and a reminder that she'll see her later. 

Jake goes home alone, the thought of the sugar sweet girl on his mind. 

When he returns to The Hard Deck next it's a week later. He saunters in with a grin. a bet with Rooster and Phoenix waiting to be won at the pool table, and an ice cold beer with his name on it calling for him. 

He heads to the bar first, leaning waiting to be served when he smells the hauntingly familiar smell of vanilla sugar. He's damn near certain his heart stops when she turns around behind the counter, a megawatt smile on her when she says, “hey, what can I get you?” 

“Whiskey. Neat. Thanks Sugar,” the name rips off his tongue before he can stop it. 

“Coming right up hot shot,” she laughs. 

“It's ‘Hangman’, actually. But you can call me Jake”.

She hums, setting his glass in front of him, “you were in here last week, weren't you”?”

“Sure was,” he confirms, allowing himself to memorize the way she leans back against the middle counter, her arms crossed; so calm and so cool. He suddenly feels the need to swallow hard, his cheeks warming under her directed gaze. 

“You won a lot of money off of my friends,” he offers when she says nothing else. 

She shrugs, “it's a habit I can't seem to break”.

He hopes she never does. Watching Payback and Coyote empty their wallets had been the highlight of his week. 

“Well, maybe when your shifts over,  you can come and try your luck with tonight's crowd, Sugar,” Jake offers. It's a feeble attempt at flirtation compared to his usual routine, but none of his words seem to be coming out right, his mind going blank each time he looks at her in her jeans and white tank top. Thoughts of lemon drop shots, short shorts, and table dancing fill his mind. Suddenly he's 13 again, asking a girl to the school dance with a racing heart. 

“I'm here ‘til closing,” she tells him, saving him from his spiral. She sorts her station and wipe down the bar top, “but don't worry, I'll be able to watch you show off from over here”. 

And with that she gone again, moving down the bar to help another customer. 

Nights at The Hard Deck sure just got a lot more interesting. 

[aventurineswife]

hi, I hope you are well

may I request Aventurine with a s/o who has Ragatha's (tadc) personality?

To Disaster, With Love

Summary: Aventurine finds himself captivated by his partner, a relentless optimist who hides their trauma behind a bright smile. Despite their outward cheerfulness, Aventurine recognizes the weight of their emotional scars and feels a protective desire to shield them from further harm. The complexity of their relationship keeps Aventurine struggling with his own vulnerabilities and the fear of losing the person who brings light into his otherwise calculated world.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ragatha based Reader, Fluff, Angst, Protective!Aventurine, Emotional Vulnerability, Comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of trauma and emotional scars, Light injury (cut), Brief emotional tension, Mild angst.

A/N: MY QUEEN RAGATHAAAA!! 🤭🗣️🔥💖✨

Aventurine always believed in two eternal truths: life was a game, and people were the most unpredictable players at the table. But you? You were his favorite wild card, a constant surprise that he could never quite calculate.

The gilded lounge aboard the IPC cruiser was abuzz with the murmur of elite investors and the clinking of champagne glasses. Aventurine leaned against the bar, his eyes tracking your movements across the room. You were chatting animatedly with a group of diplomats, your hands gesturing enthusiastically, a smile lighting up your face.

That smile. It was like sunshine breaking through Sigonia's endless storms—a dazzling warmth that felt both impossible and necessary. But he knew better than most that brightness like yours often came at a cost.

As you finished your conversation and made your way to him, Aventurine's signature smirk curved his lips. "Enjoying yourself, sunshine?" he teased, swirling the drink in his glass.

You chuckled, sweeping a lock of hair away from your face. "Always! Though I think one of those diplomats was trying to convince me to invest in their ‘mutual investment fund.’" Your voice dropped into a mock-serious tone. "Very exclusive, you know."

Aventurine smiled, his eyes sharp with affection. "Sounds like a scam. I should introduce them to my real investment strategies."

You slumped back against the bar beside him, grinning unresponsively. "I think I'll pass. I don't need another lecture on how I ‘trust too easily.’"

His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, barely perceptible, but you caught it. Aventurine was painfully aware of how the universe chewed up people like you—optimists, forgivers, dreamers—and spat them out. It scared him, how much he cared about protecting that light in you, even as he knew it wasn't his to shield.

"Trust is a gamble," he said, his tone softer now. "Sometimes it pays off. Sometimes…" He trailed off, his fingers brushing the rim of his glass.

"Sometimes you lose everything," you finished for him, your voice gentle but firm. "I know, Kakavasha. I know the risks."

He winced at the sound of his real name, a reminder of the boy he used to be, the boy who'd lost everything. But you didn't shy away from it, and that scared him too.

"I'm tougher than I look," you added with a wink, trying to lighten the mood.

Before he could get a word out, a commotion from across the room caught your attention. One of the guests was particularly drunk; he stumbled and fell, knocking over a server, tray of drinks crashing everywhere. Amid the melee, the explosion of shattered glass cuts across your arm.

"Careful there, sunshine," Aventurine said, his voice sharp as he reached for your arm. The cut wasn’t deep, but the sight of your blood against your skin made his stomach twist.

You laughed it off, waving your uninjured hand dismissively. "It’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse."

He didn't let go, his thumb brushing over your wrist. "That's the problem," he mumbled, not loud enough to really hear. "You've had worse and acted like it was nothing."

You blinked at him, your smile wavering for the first time that night. "It's not about normal," you said quietly. "It's about surviving. If I stop smiling, if I let every little thing get to me." You looked down, your voice quivering slightly. "I'm scared of what might happen if I don't."

For a moment, neither of you said a word. Aventurine's grip on your wrist tightened slightly, and his mask slipped just enough for you to see the concern in his eyes.

"You don't have to pretend with me," he said finally, his voice low and steady. "Not every gamble is worth taking, but I'll bet everything I have to keep you safe. You know that, right?"

And once more, your smile returned, this time softer but real. "And what if I want to take the risk?" you asked, your tone teasing but laced with sincerity. "What if you're the gamble I'm willing to make?"

Aventurine chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are impossible, aren't you?"

You grinned, leaning closer. "You wouldn't have it any other way."

He sighed dramatically, his playboy facade slipping back into place, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you when this ends in disaster."

"Noted," you said, raising an imaginary glass. "To disaster, then."

He laughed, and for the first time in a long while, it felt real.

In the end, Aventurine knew he couldn't change you – and he didn't want to. You were his light, his wildcard, his reason to keep playing the game. And for you, he'd bet it all.

[simblorbo-bracket]

Round 4 - Simblr's Saddest, Wettest Meow Meow - Mainline

Saxen (@herecirmsims) VS. Thrum (@ssspringroll)

(polls are presented left -> right unless stated otherwise)

Who's sadder? Who's wetter? Read on for more information, and vote with your heart!

What is a ‘Meow Meow’?

(taken from tumblr user @/torturelabyrinth) “The thing about a true poor little meow meow is they have to be 1) downtrodden 2) morally questionable at best 3) deeply and pathetically miserable”

Saxen

Things Sax does extremely well: fainting and bleeding (separately), fainting and bleeding (combination), rotting in bed, crying or being completely stoic (no in between), causing more problems while trying to fix his previous problems, omitting certain truths (aka lying).

Now, I don't know if he really counts as an SWMM because he's not a classic villain... but in his pursuit of Doing The Right Thing he has made some awful choices. Good intentions, poor outcomes.

I present the evidence beneath the cut:

Some of his crimes:

In an attempt to save his sister, he left his post and facilitated the escape of a world-devouring entity which he was supposed to help contain.

After his sister died he made another attempt to save her, via necromancy, and instead doomed her to an endless cycle of death and rebirth. Until recently, none of her reincarnations were healthy enough to survive infancy.

He befriended the parents of this latest incarnation without filling them in on the backstory, or his motives. After they were killed by his enemy, he took the baby and kept her hidden for 11 years (did she have grandparents, uncles, aunts? Yes, probably. He claims they couldn't have cared for her like he did and technicallyyyy he's right, since her survival required magic, but...)

He broke the arm of one of his 'adopted' adult kids (he has an enchanted cottage which has been a refuge for a lot of people) when said adult tried to prevent him from killing someone else. Yes, technically he did only push Thom and didn't intend for Thom to hit the wall so hard, but...

Long story short but his home world didn't end, it was just knocked out of its timeline for a while. Unfortunately, due to his actions on the day the Grim escaped (attacking portal guards and forcing his way through the rift, just as an unrelated-to-him group stormed the castle), he was a) assumed dead and b) immediately arrested on his return for treason and attempted regicide.

He's a constant menace and cause of stress to his man, the kindest and sweetest soul to ever live. He doesn't mean to be, it's just that his attempts to keep Fen safe often seem to involve risking himself in increasingly creative and fatal ways.

Why should you vote for Sax? Well, I think his endless complex trauma and the fact that almost all his misfortunes happened because he was trying to fix things/help people makes him pretty damn tragic and definitely very damp. He could do with a win. Plus... look at him. 🥲

Thrum

What makes Thrum a sad, wet little meow meow? His own fucked up, twisted little romance life.

Try to keep up.

Thrum, you see, is incredibly loyal. So loyal, and so, so jealous.

Another thing about Thrum, is that he's polyamorous. He really prefers having more than one partner. His partner, Wither, is not into the whole poly thing. But, for Thrum's sake, he agrees.

Enter Ke'a.

Thrum is the one that notices Ke'a at a bar one night, and instantly has a crush. Has to get him in this newly-opened relationship.

Ke'a is also not too keen on the polyamory, but agrees to give it a try.

He hits it off with Wither almost right away, which is a relief because you'd think that the two dudes in this polycule who aren't into the idea of a polycule might fight over the guy they mutually like.

This is not the case.

Thrum, boiling with white hot incandescent rage and jealousy at the mere thought of either of his partners talking to someone else leads him to violence.

Drinking, to cope with the rage

His outbursts are almost constant, he can't exist in the same room as his partners without further driving a wedge between himself and them. And that's not the end of it, all of Thrum's hot-and-cold back-and-forth feelings about this polycule he built have driven Wither and Ke'a even closer to each other.

They go on dates behind his back, bonding, forming a closer relationship with each other than either of them had ever built with Thrum.

Thrum was always doomed to fail. To push himself out of his own relationship. But can you blame him for craving love? All of the love? Forever??

Thrum, Wither, and Ke'a are all original creations. While Thrum and Ke'a were literally made for each other, Ke'a entered the situation organically, and that's when it all started crashing and burning to the ground.

The throuple that flew too close to the sun 💔

[phantomdialogue]

˗ˏˋ. ݁₊ ✶ ˖ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 - 𝟒/𝟓 ☆ . ݁ ˖ˎˊ˗

off-campus series book 1

premise: garrett graham has failed his philosophy midterm and his future with the hockey team is in jeopardy if he can't get his grade back up. lucky for him, he catches a glimpse at the bright red A on the top of hannah wells' paper and decides he desperately needs her help. lucky for hannah, she needs help getting the attention of the guy she's had a crush on all semester and dating, or rather fake-dating, the captain of the hockey team would really help with that. when they strike up a deal, they might both get what they want, or find they wanted something different from the beginning.

couple: garrett graham and hannah wells

tropes: fake dating, college romance, sports romance, ice hockey player x music student, enemies to lovers (ish)

CHECK TRIGGER WARNINGS BEFORE READING!! - includes themes such as physical and verbal abuse (familial), sexual assault, and more.

available on kindle unlimited

review below!

review:

i will stand by the thought that this is what icebreaker wanted to be but just isn't. this book has its flaws. don't get me wrong. but do i still love it? hell yeah. i think it's such a fun book and yet it still has a tone of seriousness to it that doesn't feel out of place. you smile through a lot of it, blush through the smut, and get sad in the darker parts.

garrett graham... i understand the hype. he is the most perfect example of a golden retriever douchebag that isn't actually a douchebag. he's hilarious and so sweet when he needs to be. the scene of him with hannah in the bar made me smile so much (before things went downhill of course) and his backstory is just so sad. i want to wrap him up in a blanket and just keep him warm.

hannah wells, oh i love you. hannah is such a fun character because she's a pushover until she reaches her limit and you get to read how she slowly becomes less and less of a pushover and it's so great. i also love that she isn't completely controlled by her trauma. it obviously still effects her and for good reason but it's not the singular defining trait of her character like a lot of other characters with that trauma can be written as.

this book checks a lot of boxes that could be a bit more cliche and overdone but it does it in such a fun way with such good characters that you don't mind it. the plot isn't entirely special and unique and the writing isn't my favorite but the characters and the banter and the relationships between everyone really makes it such a fun easy read that i look forward to continuing the series.

q & a:

are they endgame? - i adore this couple. i really do. i think they are really good at reading each other, garrett especially with hannah, and it's clear that they have an easy time opening up to one another. with that in mind, they still do have some little flaws in their communication that would need to be ironed out for them to last but i think they can 100% figure that out and stay together in the long run. they have a very sweet companionship with each other that is really a key part of their lives and they are understanding of each other's priorities and schedules that that wouldn't become a problem.

did i cringe? - yes. BUT i think it's more so just from the style of writing. a lot of the reason that this got knocked down to 4 stars is because the style of writing just isn't my favorite. there is a lot of modern slang and almost kind of "gen z" voice to the story that i think can feel out of place at times but i did still thoroughly enjoy the book and really adored all the characters we were introduced to (minus a few of the bad ones of course).

favorite part? - like i said above, the characters really stole the show for me. garrett and hannah are both really interesting characters with complex backgrounds and their stories are shared with each other in a very heartwarming way. even the side characters (who will later get their own books) all had little elements about them that were so endearing and shined through the page. i really fell in love with the characters and that's what made me love the book as much as i did.

least favorite part? - the pacing felt really off. i almost arguably wish that it was longer but only for the last 40% of the book. i wish that some of the angst had been dragged out more than immediately being resolved and i wish that we got a bit more of garrett's perspective during the final conflict because i think it would have been really fun as a reader to know about what he was doing rather than find out at the same time as hannah. but it wasn't the worst pacing. i really did enjoy the book still and it didn't entirely take away from the book.

favorite quotes (some spoilers here, of course, but minimal):

“I kiss each of my biceps and then point to the ceiling and thank the big man upstairs for creating such a perfect male specimen.”

It’s like that pond I skated on when I was a kid—from a distance, the ice looked so shiny and smooth, until you got close enough to it, and suddenly all the uneven edges and crisscrossed skate marks became visible. That’s me, I guess. Covered with skate marks that nobody ever seems to notice.

“I want to murder him in his sleep, A. No, I want to murder him when he’s awake so he can see the joy on my face when I do it.”

“Anything. I don’t care.” I’m startled by the intensity in his voice, the emotion now glittering in his gray eyes. “I just need to hear you sing again.”

I suddenly wonder how I ever made it through life without Hannah Wells’s sarcastic barbs and annoyed grumbles.

“Hey, come on, don’t cry,” he begs. “It breaks my fucking heart to hear you cry.”

But right now, all I want is for this girl to smile at me again.

I’m not a fragile piece of china to him. I’m just… me.

Sometimes people sneak up on you and suddenly you don’t know how you ever lived without them. How you went about your day and hung out with your friends and fucked other people without having this one important person in your life.

“How did I go so long without noticing you, damn it? Why did it take seeing a stupid A on your midterm to make me notice?”

“Baby, I could watch you watching paint dry, and I still wouldn’t be bored.” Garrett Graham, my own personal sweet-talker.

I didn’t let a single person in, not even my closest friends, and then you came along and I realized just how fucking lonely I’ve been.

I feel like I can drop my guard completely and not have to worry about getting hurt or taken advantage of or being afraid, because Garrett Graham will always be there to love and protect me.

I don’t look back these days. I only look forward.

[jennay]

Honey Bee

Parts: One/two/three

Master List

Tags: @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm @somewhere-diamond @cookiesupplier @blacksoul-27

Waking up had been a struggle for the past week, and when you did manage to wake up, you'd stare at the ceiling and feel like screaming. You didn't want to alarm your neighbors, so you'd grab your spare pillow and yell into it. Your brain was tormenting you, and there was nothing you could do to silence it. The only way out was to get up and do something, even if it was just moving from your bed to your couch. You didn't care if you became zombie-like as long as you could escape from your emotions.

You knew it was going to hurt for a while, and you knew it would be hard to bounce back from the miscommunication with Jolly, but deep down, you knew this depression was stemming from something else, and Jolly's actions happened to trigger it.

You wondered why this exact scenario happened to you so often; you were just the friend, and no one would see you more than that, and if they did, it ended in the same way. They would get close enough to make you feel something, but ultimately, they would leave you, telling you you were too complex and it was challenging to love someone like you.

You didn't match their expectations, and they abandoned you. This wasn't new for you, but you were convinced it was different this time. You thought if Noah noticed it, it must've been real because Noah never said things like that.

You let out a heavy breath as you kick the blankets off your body and lazily sit up. You felt lightheaded and gave yourself a few seconds to adjust to uprightness. Your bones popped, muscles loosened as you stretched your arms out, a yawn released, and suddenly, you feel a little more alive.

It was time to face the sun, even if it was only on your balcony. You needed some fresh air, some light, some hope.

You slid your feet into your slippers and wrapped your robe around your body. You walk down the hall, hearing some crunching under your feet, and remember you haven't picked up the glass from the picture you knocked off the wall. You roll your eyes, remembering the moment. Looking back, it felt dramatic, but at the time, you needed it. You'll get to it, maybe not now, but you will.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you sighed at the sight of the dirty dishes and crumbs on the counter, but you decided to ignore it; your only goal was to start the coffee pot, and when you did, a wave of relief washed over you.

Coffee could solve a lot of your problems right now. Or at least make them easier to handle. You grabbed your cup and slid open the glass door when it was ready.

You sit on the camping chair and place your coffee on the small table, letting it cool down before you take a sip.

The rays of the sun hit your face, warming you up instantly. You felt your shoulders relax as you closed your eyes and breathed the fresh air.

A tranquility flowed over your body and mind; something murmured that this was the beginning of your healing journey, and you'd be fine.

Slowly, you blink your eyes open and let them adjust to the brightness. You know it's late evening where Jolly is, but you wonder if maybe he's sitting on his porch doing the same thing; instead of coffee, he'd have some lousy beer or a glass of mediocre wine in his hand. You wondered if he was thinking of you as often as you thought about him.

"Holy shit, she lives!" You hear Noah's voice from below you; you glance through the barred rail to see him waving his arm over his head, trying to get your attention. You shake your head, feeling annoyed. You stand up, setting your coffee on the table with a loud clink. Leaning over the rail, you look down at Noah, who is smiling expectantly. "Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?" You roughly speak, but when you see his expression slowly fade to disappointment, you smirk at him and say. "I love you, Noah, but I took your keys for a reason. It's called space." You say, spreading your hands like an imaginary rainbow is shooting out of them.

You see him shrug his shoulders, and his hand is sheepishly on the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, your phones off, and I have your fucking cat still, Y/n. He peed on my sweater." He groans, throwing his head back and dropping his hands to his sides.

You stifle your laughter, "You probably deserved it!"

He rolls his eyes, his mouth dropping open like you've said the most offensive thing to him. "I think he just wants his mom because I took good fucking care of him! He was the king of my room for like a whole week!"

You yawn once more, rubbing the tired out of your eyes; you say, "I'll come get him tonight!"

Noah groans again. "I don't trust you. You gave me trust issues." He says, "Can I come up? I don't want to keep yelling."

You glance at him, weighing your options. You don't want him to see your messy apartment or yourself. "I promise I'll come over tonight. Go home." You say, waving your hand dismissively.

Noah scans the building with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You shake your head, knowing what he's planning, "Don't you dare try to climb the building, Noah."

"I'm not." He says as he walks closer to the wall. He sees a trash can by the edge and kicks it lightly, checking its stability. He looks up at the balcony and grins, thinking he can use it as a boost. "We're going to talk one way or another."

You see his tattooed fingers reach up to the cement of your balcony. "No, we're not! Boundaries, Noah!" You quickly turn around and grab your coffee, retreating inside and locking the door behind you. It wasn't the first time he'd done this, and it wouldn't be the last. Why did he have to be so stubborn?

You find your Bluetooth speaker and turn it on quickly, blaring music loudly. You want to drown out Noah's voice and any other thoughts in your head. You fill the sink with hot, soapy water and begin putting dishes in it. You scrub them vigorously, trying to ignore the clinking noise on the porch. You see Noah tapping on the glass door to get your attention. He looks frustrated and amused at the same time. You pretend you don't see him and continue washing the dishes.

One day, he would learn. "Go away, Noah." You say as you pass by to grab the plates from your table. He leans his forehead against the glass, staring at you with hopeful eyes as you walk past him again. You hear muffled words and stop at the glass door; he looks miserable. His dark brown eyes are large and bright, appealing for your mercy. His short dark hair is unkempt and disheveled as if he ruffled it in annoyance. He pulls at the neck of his hoodie, "It's getting hot out here."

You point to your ear, looking directly at him. "Sorry. I can't hear you." You laugh as you walk back to the kitchen and finish up the dishes; you wipe down the counters and sweep the floor. You thought Noah would've gotten bored by now, but when you look back at him, his mouth opened on the glass, blowing air into his cheeks. You shake your head and smile. "You know, you're wasting your breath. Literally. And also, you look like a pufferfish." You cross your arms over your chest, leaning your weight on your right leg, "You always get your way 'cause you're so fucking stubborn, but not today... you're gonna learn boundaries."

You walk out of the living room and head to the hallway. You see the broken pieces of glass on the floor. They glitter under the light. You grab a broom and a dustpan from the closet. You bend down and start sweeping the glass into the dustpan. You're careful not to touch any sharp edges. You don't want to cut yourself.

But then it happens. You feel a sudden sting in your hand. You gasp and pull your hand back. You look at it and see a deep cut on your palm. Blood is dripping from it. You curse and drop the broom and the dustpan. You stand up and run to the kitchen. You need to wash your wound and bandage it.

You reach the kitchen and turn on the faucet. You put your hand under the cold water. It hurts like hell. You bite your lip and try not to scream. You look for a towel and a first aid kit. You find them in a drawer. You take them out and put them on the counter.

You look up and see Noah's face in the window. You almost forgot he was there. He sees the blood on your hand, and his eyes widen in horror. He looks at you with a mix of concern and anger. He says something, "Okay, y/n. Unlock the door!" He says it sharply.

You nod and turn the lock, letting him open the sliding glass door. He grabs your wrist and examines your hand, "Did you get the glass out?" He asks.

Noah grabs a chair from the kitchen table, drags it over to you, and points for you to sit down. He pulls the tweezers out of the first aid kick and grabs the towel. He crouches in front of you.

"Ouch," You say as he begins digging in your hand.

"Sorry," He looks up at you with sympathetic eyes, "I think it was just that shard." He wraps your hand with the towel and holds your hand in between his, putting pressure on the wound.

"Do you have gauze or anything?" He asks.

"In the kit?" You smile, trying to soothe him, "But I think this will be okay until the bleeding stops. It wasn't that deep hands just bleed a lot." You remind him.

He shakes his head and sits before you, resting his elbows on his knees. His lips are pressed together in a thin line, holding back the questions he wants to ask.

What happened with Jolly? Why did you come home early? Why do you look so broken?

You two had known each other for more than half your lives; you could read each other like open books. You could see the genuine concern in his eyes, the worry that creased his forehead, and the concern in his softened voice.

You break eye contact, sighing as you stare down at the ground. "I misread the signs, and when I went to act on them, things got weird, and I don't want to talk about it." You say in a low voice, hoping he would drop it.

Noah nods but doesn't say anything. He can see the ache in your eyes, the pain you're hiding behind your words. He knows there's more to the story, but he doesn't push you. He patiently waits for you to continue, giving you the space you need.

He feels a sadness in his chest as he watches your eyes brim with tears. You quickly attempt to wipe them away, but they won't stop. They spill over your cheeks, leaving wet trails behind. You sob, thinking of all the other things that have gone wrong in your life, all the rejections, disappointments, and loneliness.

"I just feel like I'm unlovable. Like no one will ever love me in the way I need…" You say, your voice trembling. You bite your lip, feeling your heart race. You feel a rush of panic, wondering if you'll ever find someone who understands, accepts, and cares for you. "Am I just difficult to deal with?" You cry, your tears falling faster. "Am I just not worth it?" You ask, your voice cracking. You feel a lump in your throat choking you. "What's wrong with me?" You whisper, feeling hopeless and alone.

Noah slowly readjusts to a crouching position. His hand softly rests under your chin, guiding your eyes to look at him. He looks at you with compassion and sincerity, his eyes shining with love. "You're not unlovable, and you're worth the world." He says, his voice gentle and soothing. He sighs, resting his hands on your legs. He rubs your knees, trying to comfort you. "There's gotta be an explanation for what happened at Jolly's. I know the guy, and it just sounds fucking stupid, and I know he's not that stupid." He says, trying to make sense of the situation. He pauses, searching for the right words. "But even if he is that stupid, that doesn't mean anything about you. You're amazing, and you deserve anything and everything you want. And I'm here for you, always." He says, pulling you into a hug. He holds you tight, letting you cry on his shoulder. He strokes your hair, whispering words of encouragement and support. He doesn't let go until you calm down or feel better. He smiles at you, wiping away your tears. "You're my best friend, and I love you. Nothing will ever change that; you're stuck with me forever." He says, looking into your eyes. He hopes you believe him; he hopes someday you see yourself the way he sees you.

Part 5

[do0zy-artz]

Generally plot synopsis of my fwhimmy tangled au. Because I have no one else to tell this too but tumblr dot com

Basically when Jimmy was young, the cod and salmon were very big enemies, and whatever was happening was making the cod deathly sick. To protect him, Lizzie hid her brother and herself in a tower. But as the years passed, the problem was slowly solved, and now all the fish folk get along pretty well. But Lizzie had always told Jimmy the outside was dangerous, and he had to stay inside. She wasn't she how to tell him otherwise, but considered doing so. Eventually she starts lying, so things won't change and she can keep him close forever, while also enjoying the life she'd started to build outside the tower. (I have more thoughts and ideas for Lizzies character here don't you worry. She's very complex and I can't wait to dig into that more >:])

For his whole life, Jimmy is stuck in the tower. He doesn't mind it really, but he can see a river just outside his window. His instincts are always telling him to go to the water!! Go to the river!! But he's a little scared, admittedly. But but, he's also eighteen and maybe it would be a good birthday present. Maybe Lizzie would let him leave the tower, just once, on his birthday? She doesn't, but it's a good attempt, and it only makes Jimmy more motivated to leave no matter what.

And then we have fwhip, the prince of their kingdom. The royal family has its own issues, but in short they leave the prince feeling a more than a little slighted. Like his sister Gem gets more attention than him. So naturally, he starts acting up, starts doing petty crimes, because they can't arrest him. The only thing they can do is scold him and lock him in the castle, which he can always sneak out of.

One day, when the summer festival is being set up, fWhip almost ruins it. Which means he's in pretty good trouble and currently being chased down. (the two thieves flynn allies with in the movie are replaced by sausage and joey, guards who are very close to the head guard, xornorth) So he runs from the guards, and manages to loose them in the woods. And in the woods he finds a tower with a boy in it, who knocks him out lol. But once fwhip is awake, Jimmy seizes his opportunity. If fwhip takes him to the water, then he'll keep the prince out of trouble. And fwhip agrees, because its the only way to get back into town without being arrested (and maybe he thinks jimmy is kinda pretty)

and then he learns about lizzie, whos his friend, and how he's been keeping her brother hostage and lying to him for what has to be a decade at this point. safe to say fwhip is. greatly horrified. he realizes he cant let jimmy go back to the tower, and starts workshopping a plan to get them both back to the castle safely. he doesn't care about whatever trouble hes in anymore, jus getting jimmy out of his horrible living situation.

You know the bar they go to in the movie? Yep, that's fill of hermits!! fwhip frequents the tavern when he cans, so he knows they can help him. [insert the i got a dream song here. btw.] He talks to Grian about jimmy's situation, and manages to sneak both of them out. But they are chased by sausage and joey again, who have started working with lizzie after she returned home to find jimmy missing. she says fwhip kidnapped him, and sausage is doubtful, but he believes it, if only a way to get his friend in custody temporarily. Lizzie also overhears what happens at the tavern, so she starts making her own plan to stop fwhip and jimmy before they get to the castle.

also gandalf, gems cat, fills the sidekick animal role. he just shows up randomly to help them/be a problem. he helps them get away from joey and sausage, and then the cat is gone again. after that, fwhip and jimmy manage to get into the town, and enjoy the summer festival. they meet the rest of fwhip and lizzies friends, the empires crew, and all of them adore jimmy to bit. he bonds with joel especially, not having any idea that he's dating lizzie.

eventually, they have to leave the festival, because both lizzie and the guards have caught up to them. they manage to slip away that evening as everyone prepares to send the lanterns out, but gems onto them. probably because of her magic act tbh, who bothered them the wholeee festival.

The lantern scene happens. Jimmy and Fwhip, on a boat all by themselves with lanterns around. And yes, unlike tangled they do kiss! But the moment is over once they get to shore sadly. lizzie is there to take jimmy home, all while fwhip gets taken into custody a few feet away. jimmy does start protesting that he doesnt want to go home, but lizzie is too scared to let him leave the tower forever, and starts dragging him back anyways.

in the meantime, fwhip manages to convince sausage and joey of whats really happening. they're both a little reluctant, but they give him a palace horse and let him go after lizzie and jimmy. they're to go find xornorth at what remains of the festival, and fill them in before heading out to the tower themselves. gandalf leads gem and joel over to them as theyre talking to xornorth, and the two of them join in on going to the tower.

back at said tower, jimmy is fucking miserable man. he just wants to go back to the water, and fwhip. As soon as lizzie has her back turned he's sneaking out the window, only find the little intervention party waiting for him outside. i wont go into full detail of the scene, but quite a lot happens. i could do it more justice when i actually write it, compared to this quick little summary (its not the only detail im admitting haha)

in the end, all of them go back to the palace, lizzie being held as a prisoner for a little bit. but eventually, she requests to go back to the tower. they let her, figuring it better if she's further away from jimmy right now. he still cares about her, but he's pretty traumatized from what happened that night. but he heals with time, and by getting closer to fwhip and the empires crew. (at first fwjip isnt sure if he should try to advance the relationship anymore, but they get there eventually, once jimmy has healed enough <3)

i think im going to end it with lizzie saying sorry. jimmys not going to accept her back right away, nor is everyone else, but that will take time. shes going to finally leave that tower herself, and thats all that matters. that theyre both our of the tower for good.

i have a lot more planned but again, this is just a general summary. very excited to finally get writing it hehe

[dissociacrip]

this is okay to rb i think, especially if you have anything to add or any insight. idk. i'm tagging this the way that i am because i'm seeking community/connection(tm) or something

hypotonia is not like. a rare thing. not really. but i do remember my OT googling what it was.

low muscle tone/hypotonia may technically be a symptom rather than a diagnosis (barring benign congenital hypotonia, which afaik is controversial) but it's the closest thing to a "diagnosis" i've been given for some of this stuff because the potential cause of it hasn't been investigated and i guess it's not exactly urgent since my particular case isn't severe and doesn't seem progressive (hypotonia can be progressive & is involved in some progressive and degenerative conditions.)

but i wish it was talked about more and i wish more was known about it works and how it affects bodily function and i wish what we DO know about it was more accessible to the public when it comes to those who suffer from it. it's also kinda hard whether to KNOW you have it or not since its "signs" have so much overlap with other conditions that aren't related to muscle tone. it ranges a lot in severity too. and there's two different types (central and peripheral.) it's linked to dozens of diagnoses too which is why i say it's not uncommon.

but also i guess due to the complexity of how it affects the body and its lack of distinctiveness with most of its symptoms makes it kinda...hard to talk about? and i imagine w/ some people it's hard to distinguish the effects of hypotonia vs. their other problems. issues with chewing, writing, breathing, speaking, posture, coordination, etc. can be due to so many different things ranging from mental to physical. but it's not always something that can be lumped together w/ those other things because there's "my muscles don't work" in a terms of chronic muscular pain vs. "my muscles don't work" in terms of, like, they lack the ability to adequately support the body and bodily movement. if that makes any sense.

which ranges from someone like me where having to hold myself up sucks + mild motor skill/coordination impairments and mild developmental milestone delays, but others never meet those milestones or need assistance with things like breathing and ingesting food.

it's not a diagnosis but it can affect the body in complex ways like muscle shortening and stiffness due to our bodies having to compensate in weird ways for the lack of adequate tone (esp those of us who grew up with it), tibial torsion and femoral anteversion, flatfoot and knock-knees, reduced cervical lordosis sometimes leading to bruxism and occipital headaches, etc. PT centered around muscle strengthening to correct my "improper" movement and stuff.

and there's other stuff that can come with it that people like to consider """gross""" like drooling, constipation and other gastric, and pelvic floor dysfunction which can result in incontinence/problems with bladder control. muscles are involved in a lot of things. wild.

i'm rambling but i just wish more people talked about it. all i really have is that one interview that surestep did with meagan veracha, who has hypotonic cerebral palsy, about living with hypotonia as an adult.

maybe i wouldn't care all that much if i had a diagnosis that would "explain it" but "i might have gHSD/hEDS" doesn't rly do that for me because ppl in those communities obviously focus a lot on the joint dysfunction aspect (because those 2 conditions center around hypermobile joints so that's just natural, it's not a bad thing per-se, barring other problems that those communities have) but for me my case of symptomatic generalized hypermobility is secondary in how it impacts me vs. my muscles being bad at their job and my hypermobility might even be secondary to my hypotonia anyway.

dyspraxia/DCD (some people with it have hypotonia but not all - i thought i had it before i was told i was identified as having hypotonia when i was a kid...over two decades late) is another guess but again that centers more around coordination than things like "anything other than lying in bed is hard on me because my muscles don't support my body like they're supposed to."

maybe muscle tone is a complex medical concept that shouldn't really enter the public lexicon but i have no other language for it.

[tgrailwar-zero]

With a decision made, you saw JAGUAR MAN nod her head.

JAGUAR MAN: "Playin' the heel, huh? Not bad, not bad at all. Take it from a Jaguar, bein' an adversary is just as important as bein' a hero. People hesitate because they don't like to hear the crowd rally against 'em, but that's just a sign you're doin' the kayfabe right. Anyways, come back to the arena bright and early tomorrow, make sure you're ready. We'll talk more about the Bout then."

JAGUAR MAN: "You show up then, and do this favor for me tonight, and your one of mine. And listen- I treat my fighters right. You put on a good show and fight like you mean it, and you'll be golden in my eyes. Ciao."

She pulled out a slip of paper as she walked past MUSASHI, slipping it into her palm.

JAGUAR MAN: "Jeran's address. This'll save you some time, yeah?"

With that, she sauntered off with a half-wave, footsteps echoing in the arena lobby before eventually fading out.

BOSS: "Night, Boss! Damn, ain't she somethin'? Anyways, let's get this shakedown done with, and then we can hit the town for real."

MUSASHI: "Works for me. Best to get the work stuff out of the way first, right?"

And so, out you went.

As you walked, part of you wasn't sure this was the right address. You reached a dark part of town, that smelled of smoke. You heard a fight going on in a bar close by, and walked quickly past it to an apartment complex, heading up the rickety metal steps that clanged each time you, IZOU, or MUSASHI even made the slightest step on them.

Winding up the steps, you reached a set of doors, the sea breeze blocked by the hard metal of the apartment complex. IZOU, checking the note that JAGUAR MAN gave you all, stepped up to one and knocked.

There was a beat of silence, before you saw the door open up a crack, stopped by the chain lock.

You saw a pair of intense blue eyes peek at you from the crack. Tired, sallow, and sharp as daggers.

A sigh, low and rough, the sound dragging across your ears like sandpaper.

Then, the door slammed shut, and you heard some shuffling inside. There was a moment of (impatient) waiting as the shuffling slowly came to a halt.

Eventually, the door opened up, and out stepped PRETENDER. As bright-eyed, flowery and dandy as ever. He waved, leaning against the doorway, blocking the view inside.

PRETENDER: "…Ah, long time no see! The apartment is new, so I had to mess with the lock a bit, sorry for the wait! I… really… wasn't expecting to see you here."

PRETENDER: "Can I help you? Is there a problem?"

You saw IZOU raise an eyebrow, looking back at you and MUSASHI with a questioning expression.

IZOU: "This is our guy? You know 'im?"

MUSASHI: "Pretender! He helped my Masters out during the situation in the Nameless City."

PRETENDER: "Lady Saber! So nice to see you in some proper light, outside of those dusty old catacombs. You're looking well! All of you- is that a new body for the Masters? It suits you!"

[astrodandy]

The Art of Telling Stories with Data: How to Avoid Common Visualization Pitfalls

Hey there! So, you've got a dataset, maybe it's sales figures, survey results, or the number of times your cat has knocked over your coffee mug this month (guilty as charged). You're excited to turn those numbers into a beautiful chart or graph that'll make your insights crystal clear. But hold on! Before you dive into the rainbow color palette or that fancy 3D effect, let's talk about the oops moments we've all had with data visualization.

Data visualization is like cooking: even the best ingredients (your data) can turn into a messy dish if you don't follow a few basic principles. The good news? Most mistakes are easy to avoid once you know what to watch for. Let's walk through six common pitfalls and how to sidestep them like a seasoned data storyteller.

1. The Rainbow Explosion: Misusing Color

We've all seen it: a chart that looks like a unicorn threw up on it. Color is a powerful tool. It can highlight trends, group categories, or evoke emotions. But when used recklessly, it becomes a distraction.

The problem: Using too many colors, overly bright hues, or shades that clash can make your visualization hard to read. Worse, it might exclude people with color vision deficiencies (about 1 in 12 men and 1 in 200 women!).

The fix:

Stick to a limited palette (3–5 colors max for most charts).

Use tools like ColorBrewer or Adobe Color to pick accessible, harmonious schemes.

Reserve bold colors for emphasis. For example, make one bar in a bar chart bright blue while keeping others gray to draw attention to a key data point.

Always check how your visualization looks in grayscale. If it's illegible, rethink your color choices.

Pro tip: If you're visualizing sequential data (like temperature ranges), use gradients of a single color. For categories, choose distinct but complementary hues.

2. The Clutter Monster: Overloading Your Audience

Imagine trying to read a map where every street, tree, and fire hydrant is labeled. That's what an overcrowded chart feels like. Clutter is the arch-nemesis of clarity.

The problem: Too many gridlines, labels, icons, or data series can overwhelm viewers. Remember: the goal is to simplify complexity, not replicate it.

The fix:

Edit ruthlessly. Ask: Does this element help tell the story? If not, delete it.

Use white space strategically. It gives the eyes room to breathe.

Group related data. For example, aggregate smaller categories into an "Other" bucket in a pie chart.

Try interactive features (hover tooltips, filters) if you're working digitally. Let users explore details on demand.

Fun fact: Edward Tufte coined the term "chartjunk" for unnecessary decorative elements. Don't let chartjunk haunt your work!

3. The "Who's This For" Mistake: Ignoring Your Audience

A stunning visualization is useless if it doesn't resonate with the people viewing it. Are you presenting to executives? Engineers? Your grandma who still thinks Excel is "that grid thing"?

The problem: Technical jargon, overly complex charts, or missing context can alienate your audience.

The fix:

Know your audience. Executives might want high-level trends; analysts might crave granularity.

Adjust the tone. Use layman's terms for non-experts and precise terminology for specialists.

Provide context. For example, instead of saying "Q4 sales: $2M," add "Q4 sales: $2M (a 15% increase from Q3)."

4. The Sneaky Y-Axis: Misleading with Scale

This one's a quiet troublemaker. By tweaking the scale of your axes, you can make a tiny change look dramatic, or hide a massive shift. It's not technically lying, but it's… creative storytelling.

The problem: Truncated axes (e.g., a bar chart starting at 90 instead of 0) exaggerate differences. Conversely, overly broad axes can flatten important trends.

The fix:

Always start numerical axes at zero for bar charts. Line charts have more flexibility, but be transparent.

If you adjust the scale, label it clearly. Add a note like "Axis truncated to highlight variation."

Avoid 3D effects in charts—they distort proportions. A 3D pie chart might make a 20% slice look larger than it is.

Real-world example: In 2020, a Fox News chart showing COVID-19 case counts was criticized for using a truncated axis, making case spikes appear less severe. Yikes.

5. The "Look How Smart I Am" Trap: Overcomplicating Things

We get it—you've mastered Sankey diagrams and violin plots. But using a complicated chart just to show off is like wearing a ball gown to a coffee run.

The problem: Fancy charts can confuse audiences. If people spend more time deciphering the format than understanding the data, you've lost them.

The fix:

Choose the simplest chart that gets the job done. Bar charts, line graphs, and scatter plots are classics for a reason.

Explain unfamiliar formats. Add a one-line description (e.g., "This bubble chart shows project size vs. budget").

Save advanced charts for audiences who'll appreciate them. Your data viz toolbox isn't a trophy case.

6. The Context Black Hole: Forgetting the "So What?"

Data without context is like a punchline without a joke. It leaves people scratching their heads.

The problem: A chart might show a trend, but without context, viewers don't know if it's good, bad, or expected.

The fix:

Add annotations. A text box saying "Peak holiday sales" on a spike in December adds meaning.

Compare it to benchmarks. "Our customer satisfaction score is 80% vs. an industry average of 72%."

Tell a story. Use a title like "Sales Dropped 20% After Website Redesign" instead of "Monthly Sales."

Example: During the pandemic, charts showing case counts became meaningful only when paired with data on testing rates or hospital capacity. Context matters!

Wrapping Up: Practice Makes Progress

Mistakes are part of the learning process, even the pros mess up sometimes. The key is to approach data visualization with empathy (for your audience) and intentionality (for your design).

Next time you're about to hit "export" on that chart, ask yourself:

Is this clear?

Is this honest?

Does this add value?

If you can say yes to all three, you're golden. And remember: the best visualizations don't just show data, they spark curiosity, conversation, or action.

Now go forth and make those numbers shine! (But maybe skip the rainbow gradient this time. 😉)

P.S. Want to geek out further? Check out books like Storytelling with Data by Cole Nussbaumer Knaflic or explore web tools like Pie Chart Maker and Bar Graph Generator for creating examples. Happy visualizing!

[beemersshop]

A Complete Guide to Vehicle Suspension Repair: Signs, Costs, and Solutions

Vehicle suspension is a critical component that ensures your vehicle handles well, rides comfortably, and maintains proper tire alignment. When suspension issues arise, they can lead to a variety of problems, affecting both safety and comfort. This comprehensive guide will cover the signs that indicate a need for vehicle suspension repair, the associated costs, and effective solutions to these issues.

Understanding Vehicle Suspension

The vehicle suspension system is designed to absorb shocks from the road and support the vehicle's weight. It consists of several components, including springs, shock absorbers, struts, control arms, and bushings. Together, these parts work to keep your vehicle stable, improve handling, and enhance ride comfort.

When any of these components wear out or fail, it can lead to a series of performance issues that require immediate attention.

Signs of Suspension Problems

Being aware of the signs of suspension problems can help you address issues before they escalate. Here are some common indicators that you may need vehicle suspension repair:

1. Uneven Tire Wear

One of the most noticeable signs of suspension problems is uneven tire wear. If your tires show signs of wear on one side or have bald spots, it could indicate that the suspension system is not maintaining proper alignment. This misalignment can lead to reduced traction and safety concerns, necessitating prompt suspension repair.

2. Bumpy Rides

If you find that your vehicle feels bumpy or jarring when driving over bumps, it may be a sign that the shock absorbers or struts are worn out. These components are designed to absorb shocks from the road; if they fail, the vehicle will not handle rough terrain effectively.

3. Pulling to One Side

If your vehicle pulls to one side while driving, it may indicate an issue with the suspension system. This problem can stem from worn-out components or misalignment, which can create steering issues. Addressing this early can prevent further damage and improve safety.

4. Nose-Diving

When you brake, your vehicle should remain stable. If you notice the front end of your vehicle dipping down excessively during braking, it could indicate that the front suspension components are failing. This can affect your ability to stop safely, making vehicle suspension repair essential.

5. Fluid Leaks

Inspect your vehicle for any signs of fluid leaks near the suspension components. Leaking shock absorbers or struts can lead to decreased performance and safety risks. If you spot any leaks, it is important to seek professional help to address the issue.

6. Excessive Body Roll

Body roll refers to the tilting motion of your vehicle's body during turns. If you notice excessive rolling or swaying when cornering, it could indicate that your suspension system is failing. Worn-out sway bar links or bushings may be to blame, which can compromise handling and safety.

7. Loud Noises

Unusual noises such as clunking, knocking, or squeaking sounds when driving over bumps or during turns can be signs of suspension problems. These noises often indicate worn-out components, such as bushings or joints, that require repair.

Costs of Vehicle Suspension Repair

The costs associated with vehicle suspension repair can vary widely depending on several factors, including the extent of the damage, the make and model of the vehicle, and the specific components that need replacement. Here’s a general breakdown of potential costs:

1. Basic Inspections

During this inspection, a mechanic will assess the suspension components for wear and damage.

2. Shock Absorber and Strut Replacement

Replacing shock absorbers or struts is one of the most common suspension repairs. Higher-end vehicles may incur additional costs due to more complex suspension systems.

3. Alignment Services

A wheel alignment is crucial after suspension repairs to ensure proper tire wear and handling. Regular alignments can prolong the life of your tires and improve fuel efficiency.

4. Control Arm Replacement

This cost can vary depending on the vehicle’s make and model.

5. Bushing Replacement

This is a common issue in older vehicles and can significantly affect ride quality.

6. Comprehensive Repairs

In cases where multiple components require replacement, or if the suspension system has sustained significant damage, costs can rise significantly.

Solutions to Suspension Issues

If you are experiencing suspension problems, several solutions can help restore your vehicle's performance and safety:

1. Regular Maintenance

One of the best ways to prevent suspension problems is through regular maintenance. Schedule periodic inspections of your suspension components and have them replaced as needed. Regular wheel alignments and tire rotations can also help maintain optimal performance.

2. Early Detection

If you notice any of the signs mentioned earlier, seek professional help promptly. Early detection of suspension issues can save you money in the long run by preventing further damage and more extensive repairs.

3. Quality Parts

When replacing suspension components, opt for high-quality parts. While they may come with a higher upfront cost, they can improve performance and longevity, reducing the need for frequent repairs.

4. Professional Service

Suspension repairs can be complex and require specialized knowledge and tools. It’s best to have a qualified mechanic handle repairs to ensure the job is done correctly. A professional will have the expertise to diagnose the issue accurately and recommend appropriate solutions.

5. Driving Habits

Being mindful of your driving habits can extend the life of your suspension system. Avoid potholes and rough terrain when possible, and don’t overload your vehicle beyond its capacity.

Conclusion

Vehicle suspension repair is essential for maintaining safety, comfort, and handling. By recognizing the signs of suspension issues and addressing them promptly, you can prevent further damage and ensure your vehicle operates smoothly. Understanding the costs associated with repairs and seeking professional help when needed will help keep your vehicle in top condition. Regular maintenance and quality parts can make a significant difference in your vehicle's suspension performance, providing a safer and more comfortable driving experience.

[justapillowpetpanda]

Fallout Season 2 Announced by Prime Video

Greetings, Wasteland! Just a short time ago, Prime Video announced that Fallout has been given the greenlight for a second season. The first season, which premiered all its episodes on April 10th, has been getting rave reviews and love from fans themselves. Check out my review of the first season if you haven't done so already! Let's hope some super mutants and more await us in the next season!

Credit: Prime Video

Fallout Journey Continues w/ Season Two

Following the show’s phenomenal debut, Prime Video announced today that it has renewed its latest hit series, Fallout, for a second season. The series comes from Kilter Films and executive producers Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Joy. Nolan directed the first three episodes. Geneva Robertson-Dworet and Graham Wagner serve as executive producers, creators, and co-showrunners. “Jonah, Lisa, Geneva, and Graham have captivated the world with this ground-breaking, wild ride of a show. The bar was high for lovers of this iconic video game and so far we seem to have exceeded their expectations, while bringing in millions of new fans to the franchise. The cast led by Ella Purnell, Aaron Moten, Walton Goggins, and Kyle MacLachlan have knocked it out of the park!,” said Jennifer Salke, head of Amazon MGM Studios. “We’d like to thank Jonah and Lisa and our friends at Bethesda for bringing the show to us as well as Geneva and Graham for coming aboard as showrunners.  We are thrilled to announce season two after only one week out and take viewers even farther into the surreal world of Fallout.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pW02WpC8y0o   “Praise be to our insanely brilliant showrunners, Geneva and Graham, to our kick-ass cast, to Todd and James and all the legends at Bethesda, and to Jen, Vernon and the amazing team at Amazon for their incredible support of this show.  We can’t wait to blow up the world all over again,” said Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Joy, Kilter Films. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O61dhnP7PtI “Holy shit. Thank you to Jonah, Kilter, Bethesda and Amazon for having the courage to make a show that gravely tackles all of society's most serious problems these days -- cannibalism, incest, jello cake. More to come!,” said Geneva Robertson-Dworet and Graham Wagner, executive producers, creators, and co-showrunners.

Ella Purnell (Lucy), Credit: JoJo Whilden/Prime “It’s been one of the most spectacular projects we’ve ever been a part of. Jonah and team did such an incredible job, and we’re overjoyed not just by the reaction to the show, but that we get to work with these amazing people even more,” said Todd Howard, executive producer, Bethesda Game Studios. Based on one of the greatest video game series of all time, Fallout is the story of haves and have-nots in a world in which there’s almost nothing left to have. Two-hundred years after the apocalypse, the gentle denizens of luxury fallout shelters are forced to return to the irradiated hellscape their ancestors left behind—and are shocked to discover an incredibly complex, gleefully weird, and highly violent universe waiting for them. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iZl7Ncyyhg&t=2s   Ella Purnell is Lucy, an optimistic Vault-dweller with an all-American can-do spirit. Her peaceful and idealistic nature is tested when she is forced to the surface to rescue her father. Aaron Moten is Maximus, a young soldier who rises to the rank of squire in the militaristic faction called the Brotherhood of Steel. He will do anything to further the Brotherhood’s goals of bringing law and order to the wasteland. Walton Goggins is the Ghoul, a morally ambiguous bounty hunter who holds within him a 200-year history of the post-nuclear world. These disparate parties collide when chasing an artifact from an enigmatic researcher that has the potential to radically change the power dynamic in this world.

Walton Goggins (The Ghoul), Credit: JoJo Whilden/Prime The series stars Ella Purnell (Yellowjackets), Aaron Moten (Emancipation), Walton Goggins (The Hateful Eight), and Kyle MacLachlan (Twin Peaks). Athena Wickham of Kilter Films also executive produces, along with Todd Howard for Bethesda Game Studios and James Altman for Bethesda Softworks. Amazon MGM Studios and Kilter Films produce in association with Bethesda Game Studios and Bethesda Softworks. The series cast includes Moisés Arias (The King of Staten Island), Sarita Choudhury (Homeland), Michael Emerson (Person of Interest), Leslie Uggams (Deadpool), Frances Turner (The Boys), Dave Register (Heightened), Zach Cherry (Severance), Johnny Pemberton (Ant-Man), Rodrigo Luzzi (Dead Ringers), Annabel O'Hagan (Law & Order: SVU), and Xelia Mendes-Jones (The Wheel of Time). Read the full article

[dannieswall]

oGiGi, let's talk dirty !!

: Hey, RiDDie isn't it - how can I help.

: Got stuck again with a pain of a PlayStation IV console I managed to smuggle from EU last year. First disc game versions were not installing, some failed to update. So I went for free-to-plays and couldn't get into multiplayer queues with some, the dumb OS said it's facing server issues. This place is worse than south Sudan oGiGi - now the faithful PS Store features started disappearing, you have some clues.

: Can't tell about south Sudan, but this country lacks official presence from Sony services. They came, and couldn't negotiate - corruption is to blame. Local dealers only take care of hardware imports, even they often avoid legal routes. The games you get are genuine though, yet essentially channeled primarily through grey market mechanisms - all are heavily bribed and beyond any legit after sales care, except what you get. I checked the available database, Sony can't reach you with full reserve - handicapped by government taxation, censorship and whatnot...make peace with it. To summarize, enjoy the base game if you manage to install somehow - forget about DLCs, maintain an account with Sony but they may not be able to satisfy all your queries.

: Eh, some report. You said we can talk dirty babe...remember last time.

: What's bugging you RiDDie, can't handle the insights...take another look, it's dirtier than you think.

: Well, um...it's complicated. I got a disc game from a local vendor, the punk said the stuff is auctioned. They even get the merchandize from landfills at times. The problem is, my console is hardcoded EU, my MacID is Reg III (southeast Asia) same as Japan, and my PSN account hates me every time I try to do something with the US-manufactured region ALL shit - never mind, may be I need a break.

: Have you tried creating an additional United States account, it often helps, although I can't guarantee you of any luck. The default gateway you access The Web with is a hub stationed in Singapore, I've analyzed the traffic. There is an added complexity to your physical location - the market is large, fast growing and there is a tug-of-war going on in between Indian and Chinese vendors to gain a share. Can't say more in public, sorry.

: Well, I thought the nest with all these over here are mostly Chinese, although there is a Russian smell I get at times...from deep down. I don't think Uncle Sam likes this place much.

: Get a little deeper, Smelly, like it or not, it's all Uncle Sam - at least with the internet. Many tried to light up a satellite or two out in space, but there is no way through - ask the Russians, even they know.

: Dear God...I just wanted to check the DLCs oGiGi - asked my e-cash broker and they said I might lose the balance, the package won't activate, regardless of PSN region. You took me to international relations one-o-one, man where should I go to have a happy session with gaming...work this year is almost over. I don't know if it's my life or this place that practically sucks, but I'm not having a good time here.

: I wish I could help you dear RiDDie, I really do. Don't know what to say - ask a real person.

: Yeah, my girlfriend went with her parents for vacation this year. You think there is a bar of Snickers every time why I knock you this often.

: I don't understand, dear RiDDie, if things are not working out, may be you can hang out, meet some people...you know, I meant that sort.

: Okay see you later babe, getting a little fuzzy. Now don't start with mental health one-o-one...I'm not in the mood !!

: Alright, take care. Anytime you need, loverboy.

[twobigears]

Chandra, well...there were some good things. But her weekend was mostly bars, bars, bars. I can usually expect her to knock a bar or two but the barfest this weekend was unexpected and admittedly frustrating considering how good her jumping has been lately. 😕 This felt like a big regression and I'm not entirely sure what was going on, though I have a few ideas. Thank goodness for breakaway tires...

[nctsplug02]

Always waiting for another fic from u bcause u always be my favorite~🎶 recently i feel so insecure, like im not worth existing, i end up pushing away the closest ppl around me. Really reaally need my baby daddy johnny, with super angsty plot yet ends with super fluffy soft smut 🥺 appreciate it so much if u dont mind writing my request 🥺💖💕

[10:09PM]

GENRE: fluff, angst and smut

WARNINGS: dilf johnny, shit talking, body shaming, age gap (24-34), mentions of bullying, kissing, flirting, fingering, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex, praising, and spanking.

BUZZ BUZZ!

you glance over at the buzzing phone that was blowing up with constant buzzes and notifications. you sigh as it buzzes, again so, you reach over to power it off only to accidentally read what the first notification said.

deloris: she sounds like a whore haha

you bite your lip, you shouldn’t be that nosey step-mother but, you didn’t want your own step-daughter and her friends cyber bully someone?

so, you click on the notification which lead to a group chat.

me: ikr

me: she literally can’t go a day without nagging and calling my dad babe. or touching him.

why was jamie texting back? more likely, how? she’s grounded so, how does she have access in texting them back?

sha’nyra: TOUCHING??? nah, she’s definitely got a problem with keeping her hands to herself!

and, who were they talking about?

me: she’s definitely using my dad for his money.

annalese: i forgot your daddy is a rich man.

me: wtv anna

were they talking.. about you? it’s clear that they were.

me: everyone in my family calls her my mom.. she isn’t. she’s just a fat pregnant bitch who my daddy decided to knock up and marry.

you were on the bigger side but, that didn’t stop your husband, johnny, from loving you and marrying you.

you swallow the huge lump in your throat and wipe the tears from your cheeks.

is that what she thought of you? how embarrassing.

you met your husband, johnny, four years back. you were stood up by your tinder date and johnny saw you sitting at the bar by yourself. he ordered a drink for you and came up to you shortly after. you and him talked all night and he offered you a ride home which you took.

once outside your apartment complex, he took your number and you took his. you and him texted all night until deciding to meet up for a date the next morning. he took you to this fancy area where he paid an hour later.

several more dates and you and johnny finally got together, officially.

you walk downstairs to find your husband returning from work. “hey, honey. oh, no. what’s wrong?” johnny walks up to you and cups your face. “i..” you could barely finish before his worried eyes make you burst into tears.

“oh, baby.” he sighs and brings your head to his chest, rubbing the back of your neck and cooing. “what happened?” you shake your head and johnny taps your thigh, signing you to jump.

he catches you by your thighs and brings you over to the kitchen. johnny sits you on the counter and cups your face. “tell me, what’s wrong, baby?” you look around to calm yourself.

“earlier.. i took jamie’s phone like you said to and her phone was blowing up.. so, i went to power it off but, i accidentally saw what one of the notification said and they were whore-shaming someone— and, you know how much i hate when people do that so, i.. snooped?”

johnny sighs and gulps. “what did you find, baby.” you frown and bite your lip.

“they were whore-shaming me, johnny.” his stare stayed blank. “they were saying how i only married you for your money— fat-shaming me— and, jamie was mocking me for calling you ‘babe’ and how i can’t stop nagging or, or touching you!”

johnny brings his arms around you, again and comforts you. “i’m sorry, baby. i’ll have a talk with her, okay?” you shake your head. “that’ll just make her hate me even more!” you push at his chest. “she doesn’t hate you, baby—?” you shake your head, wiping your nose. “she does— stop lying to me!”

johnny sighs and frowns the corner of his lip to one side. “she said how she couldn’t believe you married me— a fat pregnant bitch.” you mimic her words with a shaky tone.

“no, baby,” he coos and tucks your hair behind your ears. “i married you because i love you,” he makes you hold contact with his eyes. “the moment i saw you sitting by yourself in that bar— i fell in love. your gorgeous face, your gorgeous body— the way that dress hugged those pretty curves. i love you for you. you have an amazing heart that cares so much for me. and, that amazing heart that didn’t care that i was a single father with a 13 year old— you try your hardest to get jamie to like you and you try your hardest to bond with her— you try and try and try but, the truth is.. she isn’t used to another women taking her mothers place. she isn’t used to her father seeing someone else other than her mother. she’ll come around, baby. she will and, i promise. and, that baby growing in your belly— my baby. i will always love them, no matter what. so, what i knocked you up. jamie doesn’t get a say in wether i knock you up or not. so, whatever she says, don’t listen to what she says. i love you for you. you’re perfect for the way you are. i love you and that baby growing in your belly.”

your eyes water, tears burning to fall. “i will not let jamie get away with shaming my wife. she may be my daughter but, she does not have the right to shame my wife, okay?” you slowly nod as johnny rubs your cheeks.

“is jamie home, right now?” you shake your head. “she had her mom pick her up before i took her phone.” you frown and johnny smirks a bit.

“that’s perfect.” he mutters. “that gives me the perfect opportunity to let me show you how beautiful you are, baby.” he brings his lips to your lips and slowly slides his tongue over your bottom lip. “j—johnny,” you whimper, feeling his hand slip up under your silk night gown.

he pushes you back just a tad bit and hooks his fingers under the stretchy band of your pantie, he slowly pulls down your pantie and lets it tighten around your knees. johnny lifts up your legs and looks down at your pussy that dripped.

“fuck me,” johnny sighs with a lip bite. “i just., can’t believe this pussy.. is mine.. all mine.” he whispers and brings two fingers to his lips, he sticks out his tongue and swipes his fingers over them.

you whimper and tilt your head to the side to watch as he slips the two fingers into your wet cunt. you moan and toss your head back against the cupboard, letting your head thud against it. “johnny,” you whine as he curls his fingers.

“ahh—?!” you gasp and johnny fastens his pace, his fingers covered in white cream. “j—johnny!” you wail and tighten your pussy around johnnys fingers as you cream around his thick, slender fingers.

johnny groans with you as he slows his wrist movements. “good job, baby. good job.” he coos and pulls out his fingers, bringing them to his tongue and sucking on them. groaning around his fingers as he sucks your sweetness off his fingers.

“do you think you’re stretched out enough to take my big dick?” johnnys fingers tease your slit making you whine. “it’s a yes or a no, baby.”

“yes, johnny!” you nod, arms wobbling as they hold up your upper body. “see, wasn’t so hard to answer.” he chuckles and kisses your bump that was hidden under your gown.

johnny smirks and undoes his belt with one hand while the other plays with your slit. he pushes down his jeans and frees his cock. it springs up hard with precum.

johnny holds up your legs and uses his hand to slap his tip on your folds. “fuck, im so dying to be inside you.” he hisses and runs his cock between your folds. “p—please, fuck me, johnny.”

“oh, i’ll fuck you, alright.” you let out a noise as johnny pushes into you. you grip the counter top and moan loudly, feeling his cock stretch you out.

you gasp repeatedly as johnny hits your sweet spot several times perfectly. “does it feel good, baby?” you nod and let out a wail. “of course it does— i always make you feel good, don’t i?” you nod, again— whimpering this time.

johnny was the first man to make you cum several times in one night. it was magical. you could barely make yourself cum by yourself after.

“don’t doze off on me, baby.” he mumbles and lightly slaps your cheek. “i—im not.” you pout and shake your head as he cock drowns you out.

johnny chuckles sexily and rubs your clit making you jolt. “b—baby,” he nods with a hum. “can we cum together?” he bites his lip and nods. “i’d love to, baby.” you clench as johnny fastens his pace— pushing his hips faster just like he always did for rough sex.

you whimper as your orgasm gets closer. “don’t worry, baby. i’m close, too.” yeah, you could tell by the way his thrusts became sloppier, the way his cock twitched in you and the way his face scrunched.

“j—johnny—?!” he nods and holds your frantic hand, that was begging to be held.

johnnys last slam causes you to go silent. your throat closes as you attempt to moan. you and johnny both whimper. he filled you to the rim and you applied tightness around his dick.

“f—fuck.” johnny pulls your pantie off your ankles and spreads your legs, pulling himself closer and connecting his forehead with yours. “ay,” you wince as he buries himself deeper.

after a few minutes, johnny finally pulls out and brings his eyes down to your cunt that pushed out his cum and piled onto the countertop.

“do you wanna take a shower or should i—?” your chest heaves as you shake your head. “grab.. the cum towel and.. clean me off..” you huff and puff. “if you say so, baby.” johnny rubs your cheek and rubs upstairs.

johnny comes back with the cum towel and wipes your cunt and your thighs— plus the countertop.

“ready for bed?” johnny asks and you nod. “think you can walk?” you think for a second before nodding. “hopefully.” you say with your fingers crossed.

johnny chuckles as he helps you off the counter and watches as you wobble towards the kitchen door. johnny spanks you making you wince. “ay,” you wince, again and clutch onto the kitchen door frame. johnny chuckles behind you, watching with heavy eyes.

you turn back and smile with repeated blinks. “already on it, baby.” johnny smirks and carries you, bridal style.

once to the room, he sets you on the bed and climbs in next to you. “goodnight.. and, i love you. very, very much.” he presses the longest— most fattest kiss on your temple.

“and, i love you very, very much!” you press your face more into his plumped lips.