#buy and sell used trucks

[tataok123]

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[dizziiedaikon]

After the 2nd sketch i had entirely forgotten how to draw him (unseen many mirage references)

[kissingwookiees]

the thing about emotionally unintelligent parents who dont know how to fucking communicate with each other much less their child is you never know when you're gonna accidentally walk into some argument they had that you werent privy to at all and suddenly wind up at the center of it

[ghostsinthecellar]

okay, I have run my last errand in the truck. I now have twelve hours to make sure said truck is cleaned out (and at some point force myself to shower) and then in the morning it’s bye-bye truck and I will try not to have a breakdown when I get home. I know my friend and my cousin will both help when they can if I need to go anywhere, and if I get desperate there’s rideshares. but. scary.

[classifiedwebsite]

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[justdiptych]

There's a scene in Fallout: New Vegas that I find really interesting in how it uses skill checks in dialogue. A merchant company, the Crimson Caravan, want to buy out one of their rivals, Cassidy Caravans, and they hire the player character to negotiate the deal. The player has likely already met the rival company's owner, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, by this point - in fact, it's entirely possible that she suggested they ask the Crimson Caravan for work in the first place.

Cass is propping up the bar at a truck stop on the border near the game's opening area. She's heard that her caravan has been destroyed in her absence - her employees killed and their wagons burned in an attack on the road - but she can't investigate because of a bureaucratic hold-up. The man in charge of the border post, Ranger Jackson, has halted all commercial traffic across the border because of dangers on the roads - wild animals, bandits, and enemy soldiers - that the authorities are struggling to get under control.

When the player brings the Crimson Caravan's offer to Cass, she refuses on principle. Her business may have effectively been destroyed, but she's too proud and too stubborn to sell her surname for any number of messes of pottage. Convincing her requires that the player employs one of either their Speech or Barter skills - there are two options for each, requiring either moderate or high investments of skill points. Skill and Barter are the game's two Charisma-based skills, and it's not uncommon for them to appear side-by-side like this, but here, they diverge in application.

The easier Speech option is simple - the player just reminds Cass that, if she sells the business, she won't be commercial traffic anymore, so she'll be able to get across the border. She's itching to get on the road again, so this convinces her. (She will ask the player to help Jackson clear the roads for the benefit of her fellow merchants, but this is a very simple quest that they likely already completed hours ago.)

The more challenging Speech check is to tell Cass that there's no way her business can survive, so it's her duty to do the merciful thing - shoot it in the head, bury it, and move on with her life. This, naturally, brings her close to socking the player in the jaw, but she sees the truth in it. She's been holding onto the forlorn hope that there might be something left to save, but she really has lost everything. This bypasses Jackson's quest - she just wants to walk out and not look back.

The Barter options approach things differently - from the Speech options, and from each other. The more challenging one involves making some sport of the offer, challenging Cass to a drinking contest. The player has to supply the booze, and they run the risk of getting embarrassingly drunk if their Endurance stat is too low, but, either way, this will impress Cass enough that she'll sign the contract.

The easier Barter option, though, is, I think, the most interesting. It requires the player to sweeten the deal with their own money - a not insubstantial amount of it, in fact. Cass is still hesitant, though, which allows the player to make a very interesting point. With the money from the Crimson Caravan plus the player's contribution, she'd have enough to restart her business - buy new animals and equipment, hire a new crew, start trading again.

Further, the player can point out that the Crimson Caravan are unlikely to continue using the 'Cassidy Caravans' name after buying it. They're only buying her out to try to monopolise local trade, after all. If they don't use the name, they'll forfeit their rights to it - meaning that Cass can, as she puts it, take their money, give them nothing, and go back to running her business as if the attack never happened.

Cass, naturally, accepts this offer, though she's staggered that the player is so willing to sell out their employers to help her like this. (The player needn't feel any moral misgivings about doing so. A little investigation reveals that the attack on Cass's business was actually engineered by the Crimson Caravan themselves, in collusion with a crime family, in a conspiracy to wipe out their competition.)

I think this entire interaction represents how well New Vegas uses skill checks. Barter, in RPGs, is often a very barebones skill. Its use is letting the player earn more and spend less - as part of an equation determining shop prices, or in dialogue options that boil down to asking for money. It's not uncommon for Speech to be the skill of the peaceful, benevolent diplomat, while Barter is for common mercenaries.

Here, though, the Barter options actually cost more than their Speech equivalents. The player ends up out of pocket for a sizable chunk of change or at least a lot of booze. Instead, the Barter skill represents the character's understanding of common business practices and relevant laws. It allows them to convince Cass to accept a deal by finding a loophole that benefits her more than if she refused.

The equivalent Speech options, meanwhile, are effectively free, but do involve making Cass feel that little bit worse. They emphasise what she's lost, how trapped she is by her circumstances, and convince her to give up and let the Crimson Caravan win. In the long run, this doesn't make a real difference - once she leaves the outpost, she and the player can discover the conspiracy and get their revenge either way - but I think the choice does let the player say something about their character.

Part of the brilliance of this game is how little details, like Cass being stuck at the outpost, tie into other details all across the story. Caravan traffic is halted, in part, because deathclaws have nested near the roads to the north. They've nested there because the local quarry has ceased operations - the noise caused by the digging and blasting had previously scared them off.

The quarry closed down because escaped convicts raided it and stole the workers' stash of mining explosives. The convicts escaped because the government was using them for forced labour on the railroads, and foolishly entrusted them with enough dynamite to stage an uprising, seize control of the prison, and turn it into a fortress and a base of operations for banditry.

Similarly, the threads of Cass's story spread outwards, ultimately affecting the entire future of New California. When she learns that the Crimson Caravan and their allies killed her friends, Cass is furious. She wants to march over there and beat the snot out of the people responsible. The player can convince her to instead settle things legally - get proof of their crimes, pass them on to Ranger Jackson, and hope the justice system gets revenge for her.

If Cass does things her way, the criminals pay with their lives, but their bosses end up better off for it. With their regional execs murdered, the trading companies can claim that the government isn't doing enough to protect them - so, they don't have to support the government's interests, either. They withdraw trade, demand special treatment, and end up making their shortfall everyone's problem.

If the legal option is pursued, though, the evidence becomes blackmail material. The government has the trading companies over a barrel, and that lets them pass stricter trade laws. Given the choice of accepting regulation or facing criminal investigation, the crooked execs choose to stay out of jail. Those responsible for the murders technically avoid justice, but their hopes of a monopoly are dashed - and their superiors are unlikely to be pleased with them having hurt long-term profits so badly.

Cass's story is political and economical all the way through. It's about the influence of wealth on government, and the fundamental injustices of the carceral system. It's about revenge, and reform, and how to hit people where it hurts - their bottom line. And it's about how, sometimes, skills in an RPG aren't about making numbers go up - they're about how a character understands the world around them, and how they can apply that understanding to help someone out of a jam, or help reshape the trade lines of a whole nation.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Inn Love

cw: friends to lovers, cowboy!james, innkeeper!reader, pet names, fluff, scene setting really

wc: 2.6k

“Please Jamie? I just need a couple pounds of butter.” You bat your eyes at him, all sweet and innocent but James knows you.

“If I give you what I have left I won’t have any to sell in the market this weekend.” He’s trying to stand firm. He really really is.

For all your sweetness and innocence, you’re like a viper to James’ strength of will.

“I’ll pay you more than the market.” You’ll definitely try, but James can never charge you full price.

“I’m sorry, darling. Go to Malloy, he sells butter too.”

You wrinkle your nose. “No one sells butter that’s as good as yours, Jamie.” You’re trying as hard as you can, James seems unmoved. So you up the ante. “I’ll bring you one of the pound cakes on top of payment.”

James falters a bit then. You bake the best in the entire town. At your inn, The Secret Garden, that’s one of the best reviews after the impeccable mattresses. You also know James has the softest, sweetest spot for pound cake- especially the blood orange pound cake you make.

He groans and you squeal, your boots clicking on the cobble. James gestures for you to come into his house.

“You’re so fucking evil.” he mumbles, reaching into his second fridge and handing you three pounds of butter. You take a quick peek and find his fridge stocked with pre packaged butter wrapped pretty in parchment, cheese in there too. There’s even milk. James is the best damn dairy farmer this town has ever seen and it’s a wonder how he ever has enough butter.

“You are an angel, James Potter.” you wrap your arms around his neck, and James’ hands automatically wrap around your back.

He’s big and warm, smells like leather and blood oranges and for all his muscles James is surprisingly soft.

James can’t fight the smile on his lips when you let go of him. You really are sweet. “You’re lucky I made more butter today.”

You gasp, not at all surprised. “You playing hard ball with me, Jamie?”

He nods, setting his hat on the counter. “Maybe I wanted a pound cake for free.” he teases but James would never take anything from you without paying you no matter how much you try to get him to. He doesn’t really care that you’re friends, he’s paying you for everything.

“You’re losing angel status, Potter. I gotta go, gotta bake for breakfast tomorrow and for the market this weekend.”

“See ya’, darling.”

James spots you while you’re closing up your booth at the market and hands off the empty crates he was hauling to his friends, Sirius and Remus.

He jogs over to you, and places his hands on your shoulders. You startle and almost swing a punch at him but he catches your fist.

“Okay Rocky,” he chuckles when you put your hand to your chest, breathing heavily like you’d just run a mile.

“You scared me, James! How don’t you make noise when you walk?”

James rolls his eyes, taking your crates from you. You move to packing bags.

“I make lots of noise, you’re just in your head.” He says, you shrug with a smile.

“Did they buy all of your butter?” you ask as you start walking towards your truck, James close behind.

“And the milk and the cheese.” You roll your eyes at his cocky tone.

You know James better than most here. You went to school together, you used to ranch with him when you were younger and when his mom and dad still owned the ranch.

Then you’d both had to grow up, you going to business school and James having to take over the ranch after his mom and dad had gotten sick.

You’d come back for the funeral and been there when James couldn’t get out of bed to deal with the ranch and all the shit that came with that and stayed till he got better and could do it himself.

Then James helped you with the construction of The Secret Garden, your inn that became your baby.

All this to say is, you know James Potter and he’s not as cocky as he pretends to be.

Sure he’s any woman’s dream. With his inky curls always peeking out under his hat, his muscle tees that show off tan, muscled arms, his pretty brown eyes that remind you so much of browned butter and his fucking dimples.

But James is a sweetheart.

“I told you about that tone, Jamie. Makes you sound too sure of yourself.”

James only chuckles, placing the crates in your tray and the rest of your stuff.

“I’m sorry weren’t you telling me the other day that my butter’s the best?”

You wave him off, laughing as you open the back door.

“Do I give you your loaf now or at family dinner tonight?”

James smiles, this is the one routine you and James still have from when you were kids. You go over on Sunday night for family dinner and then you go to the inn and try to get to sleep before your three am alarm.

“I just spent all day in the hot sun and you’re gonna deprive me? You’re cruel, darling.”

You laugh, handing him the loaf and then reaching in your cooler for a bottle of water. “Here Jamie.”

James’ mouth is already stained pink with the icing from your cake. Crumbs clinging to his shirt and chin.

“James! Have some dignity.” your words are broken up with your laugh, James smiles when you hand him the open water bottle.

“Thanks, darling.” Half the loaf cake is gone, and James guzzles the water like he’s been dying of thirst the whole day.

You watch James drink, aware that you’ve been staring a little longer than necessary and James knows it too because he winks at you.

“What are we having for dinner, James?”

James smiles, “Beef, you wanted that last time when we had chicken.”

You smile, giddy as ever. If it’s one thing James can do is roast beef; it’s always tender and perfect.

“Do you need me to come over early and do the potatoes? With the rosemary and thyme?” James nods, breaking off another little bite of the cake.

“Meet me there in an hour? I know you gotta do dinner at the inn.”

You shake your head, “I got Mary doing dinner tonight, and I wanna check on Snowglobe.”

James’ hand falls over his heart, a look of mock offense on his face. “Do you not believe me when I tell you he’s okay?”

You roll your eyes, “Can’t I want to take my best boy for a little leg stretch?”

James grumbles, “Best boy? Snowglobe took two years to train when we were kids.”

You smile as you remember all the days you’d sleep in James’ room complaining about how Snowglobe hated you and would never warm up to you.

“And now he’s the best horse a girl could have.You’re just jealous Jamie.”

He says nothing, just takes his loaf cake and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll follow behind you. Try not to drive like you’re on a race track, yeah?” You nod, getting into your truck and letting James close the door for you.

You don’t listen to James’ words and speed towards his ranch, foot to the pedal even as you swing into the grocery for chocolate for dessert- lest you and James pass away without a sweet treat after dinner.

At his place, in the Big House, you and James work side by side prepping dinner. He seasons the beef, you season the potatoes and put them to roast and then start on a chocolate cake.

It’s not a fancy one, but it’s occasion enough for a chocolate cake.

“How long till everything is finished?” Sirius asks, hat on his chest as he walks in holding a six pack.

“About an hour.” You and James say at the same time. Remus rolls his eyes as he steps in behind his boyfriend.

“I got your fruit, you didn’t stop by.” He holds out three bowls of cut fruit and you smile.

“Thanks Rem, I swear everyone came for bread today! I sold out of it so fast I really contemplated going back to the inn and baking more.”

The boys hum, smiling when James opens a beer and slides it to you. You take it with a nod and a smile. Quickly, you uncover the bowl of watermelon, taking a few pieces and smiling at the sweetness.

“It’s cos it’s fucking amazing bread. Lasts the whole fucking week too.” A compliment from Sirius is always genuine- as long as you’d known him, about two years, you can count on one hand how many sweet words the man says.

Conversation lulls, James talks about his plans for the week, Sirius talks about how there’s too many people trying to build big condos in your town- he’s in real estate and Remus talks of how much simpler life had gotten since he’d started raising chickens again.

You shoot out of your seat, James watches you curiously. You pull the cake from the oven and turn to all three of them stern as can be, “Those potatoes have ten minutes. I’m going to see my horse, do not let them burn.”

You rush out of the Big House without another word, boots clicking against the wooden floors and then crunching on the gravel path as you make your way to the stables.

“Snowglobe, baby.” You call, passing each stall till you find your baby’s.

Snowglobe is an old boy, almost twenty four, but he’s always been perfect. He’s all white, a pretty shiny sort of white on his coat that makes him look like fresh fallen snow. Hence his name.

He raises his head as he sees you, tail flicking as you reach a hand into his stall.

“I missed you, old boy.” You kiss his nose, stepping into the stall and getting a brush. You’re sure the farm hands James hired keep him well groomed, but he likes a bit of pampering and he deserves it too.

You brush through his mane, talking to him and sneaking a couple apples to him.

There’s a knock on the stable doors and you startle, you hear James’ deep chuckle before you see him. “Dinner’s ready,”

You kiss Snowglobe on his nose again. “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll go riding, baby.”

James rolls his eyes when Snowglobe puts his face on your shoulder, stopping you from moving.

You grin wide, “I promise, old boy. We’ll go riding all evening.”

Snowglobe seems pleased because he lifts his head and lets you go.

“He’s as clingy as you are,” James says as you walk out beside him.

“He’s not clingy! He’s the best and I don’t come see him nearly enough.”

James scoffs, “The four times a week you ride him up and down the ranch isn’t enough?” He bumps your hips with his.

You shrug your shoulders with a smile, “He likes the exercise and your boys still saddle him. He doesn’t like it.”

James is well aware, Snowglobe tosses saddles off him if he’s feeling particularly annoyed with the weight of them some days.

James pushes open the door to the Big House. You walk past him, taking your seat on the table and groaning.

“This is gonna be fucking great.” Sirius laughs at your swear, and loads up your plate- roast potatoes, roast beef and salad.

By the time you’re all finished dinner, you and James have had two slices of cake each and you’re both sprawled on his sofa.

Remus is laying on Sirius with his hat on his stomach and Sirius’ is pulled low on his face.

“I gotta get going,” you say, breaking the silence. Your words are groggy, sleep close in your reaches the longer you lay beside James.

James sits up, “What time is your alarm?”

“Three thirty.”

James tries pulling you down beside him, but you don’t budge. “I’ll drop you back in the morning.”

You huff, a little amused. “What time do you usually wake up, James?”

“Four. I gotta check the fences though, so three thirty ain’t bad.”

There’s no use arguing with him, and you don’t really want to. He stretches out on the sofa,

Sirius and Remus are out cold, James doesn’t even move them. He just throws a blanket over them.

“C’mon, the guest room is always ready for you.” James sounds just as tired as you feel, his eyes look a little glassy too.

“Thanks Jamie,” you push open the door and smell the lavender spray you use at night strong as if you’d just sprayed it.

“Course darling, your blanket’s there too. Come get me when your alarm goes off, yeah?” James kisses your forehead, you smile.

“Yeah Jamie. Go get some sleep.”

You climb under your blankets, grinning when you smell the linen detergent James uses. Sleep comes quick, your eyes heavier than they’ve been all day now that you’re laying down.

-

Someone is shaking your shoulder and you don’t like it.

“Stop,” you groan, pushing the hand off you and pulling your blanket over your head.

“Darling it’s nearly three thirty. Come get some coffee.”

You groan, twisting in protest under the covers. “No. I’ll be down at three thirty.”

James rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me use advanced waking up tactics.”

Your head pops out of the covers, hair a little messed up. “You are not tugging this cover off me James. I swear to god.”

James smiles, “You’re so pleasant in the morning. C’mon, we’ll have coffee and one of those breakfast sandwiches and I’ll drop you off.”

The grumble you let out makes James laugh some more.

“Give me five minutes.” James nods, leaving the room and letting you go about your morning routine.

You find James pulling two sandwiches from his oven, setting yours on a plate and biting into his immediately.

“Thanks Jamie, where’s my coffee?”

James tilts his head to the pot, your favourite cup sitting right beside it.

“Your creamer’s in the fridge.”

You frown, “Where did you get sugar free creme brûlée creamer in the middle of summer?”

James shrugs, “Not telling. But it’s there.” James takes a sip of his own coffee, black with just a touch of sugar. “It’s turkey in the sandwich too.”

You smile, fixing your cup and then shuffling towards James to kiss his cheek.

“You’re cute, thank you Jamie.”

His cheeks redden without meaning too. “Eat so we can go darling. You got scones to bake and what is it today? Eggs and bacon with toasted sourdough?”

You nod, biting into your sandwich. “Yeah and I gotta do cookies today, want me to bring any over?”

James frowns, “Today?” You nod, taking the last bite of your sandwich and finishing off your coffee.

“Taking Snowglobe out after I finish up dinner at the inn.”

James rolls his eyes playfully. Since the moment Snowglobe stopped fighting you, the pair of you had been inseparable. “Yeah, you can bring a couple. Make sure and eat lunch.”

“Left overs?” Your eyes are wide and hopeful as you look at James. He feels his chest constrict a little.

He opens the fridge and pulls out a bowl, “Got everything here for you.”

“Angel status has been restored Jamie,” James grins, dimples poking out. Truly, he’d never been worried, you’re never actually upset with him ever. Angel status is always applied, but he can’t deny the way it makes him feel when you tell him that it is.

“You’re so gracious!” James bows, making you giggle and slap his shoulder. “Ready?” He asks as he rights himself. James opens the fridge again, pulling out the bowls of fruit Remus had brought over and setting them on your lunch.

“Ready, Jamie.”

[dhfinancing]

If your truck is still in roadworthy condition and you are looking to buy a new truck, you should think about selling it. There are many used heavy truck dealers, who would be more than willing to take your truck off your hands. However, you should ensure that you get the best possible price for your truck.

[stardewremixed]

We need better marriage candidate advantages! Gifts, dinners, and occasional chores on the farm are nice, but....

Shane - starts taking care of the chickens and you get more eggs (double or triple from one chicken) or an extra chicken every year. Plus discounts at Marnie's. Oh and give me a room for Jas on the farm!!! Also he starts working at Pierre's after Joja closes and leads weekly AA meetings at the community center. Marnie also visits occasionally and brings gifts. Wanders into the forest sometimes and brings back forage.

Abigail - discounts at Pierre's, shopping on Wednesdays, and she goes adventuring with you in the mines (for some rare drops). Discounts at the Adventurer's Guild after she becomes a full-fledged member. Her parents visit on the farm and you get occasional gifts from them. Breaks up rocks on the farm (actual rocks in your inventory and occsisonal geodes).

Harvey - discounts at the clinic for the amount of times you're injured in the mines and he is the one who finds you and carries you home so you don't lose any items. Weekly energy tonics. And sometimes he plays jazz (Unlocks new music). Discounts at the bookseller (1.6) because he befriends the hot air balloon operator. And the man gets over his fear of heights and gets his chopper license. Can take you to Ginger Island for free.

Maru - weekly energy tonics since she works in the Clinic (yes, she should keep her job) and battery packs, plus her dad visits the farm cave and you get better drops in there. Robin visits too and says things like "oh, I saw such and such needed upgraded or repaired, so I did it. " Seb visits and might bring a gift. She also creates a working robot that can automate some farm chores at random. Joins the aerobics class at Caroline's.

Sebastian - discounts from Robin for upgrades and her shop, he occasionally goes adventuring with you in the quarry (for rare drops), and brings in a side income from his incredibly popular indie computer game. Brings gifts from his trips to Zuzu City. Hosts weekly jam sessions with Abigail and Sam on the farm. Organizes DnD game night at the community center - friendly to beginner's.

Leah - chops wood for you (actual wood in your inventory), crafts beautiful decor for your farm, and brings you delicious forage from the forest. Brings in a small income from her artistry. And she would also adventure with you in the secret woods (rare drops and better protection). Might buy you a drink or salad at the Saloon on occasion. Would absolutely dance with you at the Stardrop on Friday nights if you asked her.

Alex - Builds a ramp for George and then his grandparents occasionally visit the farm, bearing gifts. He chops wood and breaks up stone on the farm (actual wood/stone in your inventory). And let's start a food truck. Sells at his stand year round (and more than just ice cream), bringing in a small monthly income. He would be an excellent ally also on difficult adventuring levels (preventing you from getting surrounded). If you do go down, he's carrying you home so that you don't lose any items. Runs bingo at community center for the older townies (including his grandparents). Finally fixed the damn leak in Evelyn's roof.

Elliott - let's upgrade his beach cabin for a vacation getaway! He brings you home from the library with all sorts of useful knowledge. The man brings in an income selling his stories and poetry. Establishes a regular reading event at the library. Teaches writing classes at the Community Center. Discounts at Willy's (Willy is Elliott's great uncle in my headcanon). He would occasionally adventure with you on Ginger Island. Oh and I think you'd adopt Leo together and build a little treehouse on the farm.

Sam - income from Joja (or the movie theater), builds a skate park for the kids on town (a new post marriage heart event), and travels occasionally with his band (bringing in a sporadic income). Oh and he writes new songs for the jukebox at the Saloon. (Unlocks new music). Probably plays for the locals on Friday nights. Vincent would come stay with you on the farm, on occasion, so he would have a room. Plus Jodi would bring you dinners on Sundays. Kent would send you regular gifts in the mail. Also unlimited free games at the arcade (Sam's always buying).

Haley - has a photography show (like Leah does with her art) and decorates your farmhouse with occasional prints (new decor), plus an income from selling her services as a photographer. I like to think she works with Seb on the town website and adds her images. Brings gifts from her trips to Zuzu City. Scythes grass on occasion on the farm (actual grass and sometimes mixed seeds in your inventory). Would plant flowers in a farm garden with Evelyn. Emily would visit and bring gifts.

Emily - discounts at the Saloon, a small weekly stipend, and sells her clothes online, plus you get to join the weekly aerobics class at Caroline's with her (and if you have high hearts with Clint, you get discounts at the blacksmith too). Sometimes misc clothing, shoe, hat, and ring upgrades show up in your inventory. Haley would visit and bring gifts.

Penny - special events at the community center (she helps establish family-friendly activities and the community center is more active). She goes back to school for her official license and brings in a small income from teaching. Discounts on bus rides thanks to her mom, or cheaper bus repair if you aren't done yet. Better rewards at the library/museum when you donate items because of her friendship with Gunther. And she creates a playroom at the farm for Jas and Vincent (and your kids, of course). Pam might visit on occasion and bring gifts (and like Shane, Pam would attend the weekly AA meetings).

Okay... confession time... who are you marrying based on the above advantages?

[betterbooktitles]

"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.

Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.

Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.

While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.

Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."

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Other articles include:

An essay on Claire Dederer's book Monsters and movies made by monsters.

Writing inside a Toyota Service Center.

Writing mistresses.

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ 𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓑𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝓝𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝓓𝐎𝐎𝐑. ❜

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ biker!miguel 𝓍 fem!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. a charming guy with a bike moves next door. you two embark in an interesting connection which becomes something much more.

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. modern!au, neighbors to lovers, fluff, sprinkle of angst, tension, swearing, pet names, smut, references of sex, implied short reader, hispanic/latina!reader ( mdni )

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓛𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝓝𝐎𝐓𝐄. this idea randomly popped in my head while listening to “outside” by calvin harris.

the u-hual truck and several boxes on the curb. a new neighbor moving in, specifically next door to you. that house has been empty for some time and seeing it finally being occupied was a sight. looking through the blinds, you couldn’t see the new neighbors but only the two move-in guys. there seems to be a bike barked in the driveway, a black duacti to be exact.

oh now that is intriguing.

your new neighbor is a motorcycle rider. the bike is quite beautiful. your dad would be hella jealous since he adores ducatis. since there is a bike, where is the owner? scanning the area for the possible owner, a man dressed in all black with motorcycle jacket approached the u-haul truck to grab a big box that seems way too heavy to carry. but it seems the guy is a gym fanatic due to his bulky structure.

holy shit.

the dude is handsome as fuck.

dark chocolate locks along with some very visible strong cheekbones even from this distance. not only is he bulky as hell but also extremely freakishly tall. goddamn the man is probably over 6 feet. the move-in guys are only up to his collarbone and they are pretty tall themselves. this dude is a giant most likely.

this man is your new neighbor?

well fucking hell.

lifting your finger off from the blinds, you step away from your window to resume your day. although, it would be difficult to concentrate on anything since your mind is infiltrated with images of your new neighbor. you’ve never even met the guy and yet he’s all you could think about. get your shit together.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

you were returning home from work. pulling up into your driveway, you spot your new neighbor in his garage cleaning his bike. slowly getting out of your car, you sneak at glance at him without being suspicious. well, you’re wearing your black cateye sunglasses so nobody could tell if you’re looking directly at them or not. grabbing your purse and locking the car, you decide to introduce yourself.

fuck it, why not.

walking up his driveway to the garage, your ears were filled with music. the speaker be blasting linkin park. good music taste he has, definitely noted. he seems to not acknowledge your upcoming arrival since he’s too concentrated on cleaning his bike with a rag. now he must’ve acknowledge your presence as the corners of his lips curl up into a little smirk.

“ducati. badass.” you comment, stopping only a few feet from him so you don’t invade his space.

he let out an appreciative hum. “panigale v2.” his eyes never tear from the bike as he continues cleaning it with the black rag.

your eyebrows slightly raise in surprise. “my dad would be jealous. he used to own one but had to sell it to buy a car.” you cross your arms over your chest, obscuring him through your sunglasses.

“poor guy but understandable.” he wipes down the last bit of the bike before putting the rag away in a bucket next to him. “so which neighbor are you?” he never looks up at you as he starts scrubbing the front tire with a small black scrubby.

“next door to the left.” you tilt your head a bit to the side, digging your hands into the back pockets of your denim jeans.

“oh so you’re the one with the loud dog.” the guy couldn’t resist a smirk, sensing your light glare.

“not my fault he misses me.” you shrugged.

a low chuckle escapes his lips. “maybe you should be home more often.”

you look at him dumbfounded by his joke but you play along since it’s fun. “if only work was that easy. plus, he’s a husky, they’re criers.” that earns you another chuckle from him.

“what’s his name?”

“shane.”

you watch one of his thick eyebrows quirk upwards. “that’s an interesting name for a dog but it’s cool, quite unique.” after scrubbing the last bit of the tire, he drops the scrubby into the buckle, stands up from the little stool and turns to face you.

goddamn — he’s even taller than you thought. you have to crane your neck all the way up just to look at him. and dear lord this man is just pure muscle. the black shirt he’s wearing looks so tight on him that it acts more like a compression shirt. those broad shoulders stick out heavily, so mouthwatery. and that motherfucking waist, damn it’s so slutty that it’s a crime to have it that pinched. a damn greek god.

him on the other hand, traces your figure with his eyes. shit those denim jeans hug your thighs so perfectly, a little too tight to be honest which makes his chest warm. although, he was taken aback by your sunglasses, concealing your face that he desperately wants to see.

cleaning his hands with a clean rag, he walks up to you reaching out a hand to shake. “i’m miguel.”

you push your sunglasses on top of your head before taking his hand and gently shake it. “[y/n].” a little smile gracing your glossy lips with a head tilt.

miguel’s pupils dilate drastically from your face reveal. wow — you are very attractive, beautiful in fact. those gorgeous irises staring into his own and glossy lips that taunt him.

his pretty neighbor.

and he, your handsome neighbor.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

“fuck!” you slap the stirring wheel. the car isn’t working. just fucking great, now you’re gonna be late for work and your boss is gonna murder you.

well this is a shitty fucking day. first you slipped coffee over your cute white blouse, now your car is broken. a lot groan of frustration escapes your lips as you rest your forehead on the wheel.

your frustration didn’t go unnoticed by a set of brown eyes from next door. miguel was preparing to leave for the gym until he saw you shouting inside your car. he couldn’t help but smile in amusement watching you getting pissed off. the sounds of the failing engine answered his question. he watches you get out of your car and slam the door, a few curses in between spanish and english escaping your lips. resting his helmet on the bike, miguel slowly walks over with arms folded across his chest.

“dead engine?” he asks, head titled a bit.

a sigh of frustration escapes you, rubbing the temples of your forehead with one hand while the other rests on your hip. “yeah so now i’m gonna be late for work. chingado…” you rest your lower back against the car, not meeting his gaze.

“i can give you a ride.” miguel suggested, his eyes analyzing your expression and body language.

you shook your head. “no it’s fine. i’ll just take an uber.” you pull out your phone from your back pocket to open up the app but a large hand snatches your phone. “hey! what the fuck man—“

“you don’t need an uber. i’ll take you, end of discussion.” miguel turns around and walks back to his bike, your phone in his hand.

“dude—“ you groan, rolling your eyes. well, you don’t have any other option since he took your phone. letting out another sigh, you follow him to his garage. “can i at least have my phone back? i promise i won’t take an uber.” you cross your arms with ahead tilt.

he stares at you for a moment to see if you were lying or not. then, he hands back your phone which you take very swiftly and put in back in your pocket, making him smirk. miguel walks over to a shelf with a collection of helmets and grabs a red one. he walks back to you and hands you the helmet.

“you ever ridden one?” he asks as he puts on his gloves then his helmet.

“just once with my cousin but that was years ago.” you move your hair out of your face and put on the helmet. it’s quite big on you, considering it’s his so of course it’s big. luckily it has straps for adjustment. now it fits a little better, still loose but better.

he only responds with a low hum.

walking up to the bike, a moment of realization hits you. it’s a big bike, well, all motorcycles are big. maybe it’s because your small and short as fuck.

how the fuck are you gonna get on that thing?

“need some help?” his baritone makes you snap out of thought as if he knew.

“well…” you didn’t even get finish your sentence when you felt his hands on your waist and suddenly lift you up to place you on the bike, making you gasp as you instinctively hold onto his biceps as support. your reaction earns a low chuckle from him.

“you could’ve warned me, cabrón.” you shoot him a glare as you swing one leg over the bike so now you’re straddling it, shifting a little to be comfortable.

those brown irises land directly on your thighs. they got thicker and plumper when you sat down. his mouth instantly watered at the sight. thankfully for his helmet, you couldn’t see his stupid expression. without answering back, he gets on the bike. miguel lowers the shield of his helmet then grips onto the handlebars, clenching those gloved hands.

“scoot a bit closer.” he said, head turned to the side where he sees your from the corner of his eye.

you look dumbfounded at his request. is this dude serious? since you don’t obey, miguel reached behind and grabs under your thighs, pulling you closer until your chest is against his back. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the sudden motion. not gonna lie, your stomach did a summersault. now your face slightly flushed. you lower the shield of the helmet to hide it. at first you were hesitant to touch him but you have no other choice. very slowly, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his broad back. miguel can sense your hesitation, making him smirk underneath his helmet. gripping the handlebars once again, he turns his head to the side.

“hold on tight, chula.” he said so mischievously before turning on the engine and slowly start driving out of the garage then onto the road.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

so your growing friendship with your neighbor was interesting. is it even friendship? to be honest, it’s unclear what you two have. maybe an acquaintance since you’re simply neighbors. however, it feels more than just that. a strange bond between you two. but things got a little heated when you popped by while he was cleaning his bike, for the millionth time.

it was a hot day so you decided to wear a yellow summer dress. walking over to his opened garage, music blasts in your ears but you don’t mind. you’re a big music lover yourself. it’s the weeknd this time. this dude got great music taste. two of your favorite artists, linkin park and the weeknd. two things you have in common, definitely noted.

your pupils dilate drastically at the sigh of your neighbor. he wears a black wife beater that reveals his muscles so perfectly. holy fuck — he is built. each outline of his muscles is visible to the eye. but what makes your knees weak is those fucking gray sweatpants that hang below his waist.

fuck — he definitely chose that outfit on purpose.

snapping out of those horny ass thoughts, you approach him with crossed arms. “how many times do you clean that damn bike?”

miguel snorts, a little smirk gracing those plump lips of his. “gotta keep it perfect.” he uses a navy blue rag to wipe the front of the bike, sitting on a tiny stool.

“alright, mr perfectionist.” sarcasm at its peak but doesn’t affect him, only making him chuckle.

“at least i don’t have bird shit.” he teases.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “i haven’t had the chance to get a car wash. work has been up my ass lately.” you want to slap off that growing stupid smirk on his face so badly. ugh this motherfucker.

“i could clean it for you, chiquita. all you have to do is ask. but of course, there’ll be a price.” a mischievous smirk illustrating his face as he glances at you. his eyes widen a bit at your dress. how pretty you look in it, yellow definitely suits you.

“ugh as if i would ever pay you, no thank you.” so sassy but he likes that.

he gets from the tiny stool. “just saying, chiquita.” miguel walks over to the counter to grab some stuff.

you roll your eyes once again before walking over to his bike. it’s a really gorgeous bike, so polished and clean. you’ve only seen the classic red ducati so seeing a black is a surprise but a cool surprise.

you decide to sit down the edge of the seat, your feet dangling since you’re so short. the cold metal hitting against your skin of your exposed legs, making you shiver a little at the cold sensation.

turning around, a small smile crept onto his face when he sees you sitting on the bike. walking back, miguel grabs the little stool and placed it down in front of the back tire. he sits back down, right next to your left leg as he begins scrubbing the tire.

while he continues cleaning, you glance around his garage. bunch of car supplies and cleaning equipment. not much decor other than the shelves of plastic black boxes. you realize the entire garage glows under warm lighting. it’s golden hour. turning to face the driveway, you’re greeted with the bright vibrant sun shining down on you. luckily you have your sunglasses so you put them over your eyes. you relish the delicious warmth of the sun, leaning back a little on the bike.

a refreshing breeze passes by, making your hair flow gracefully in the air. but your hair isn’t the only thing affected by the wind. the skirt portion of your dress flows. as miguel’s eyes tear away from the spot he was cleaning, he noticed your dress flowing in the wind a little too freely as it flows upwards revealing your pastel yellow panties underneath. his eyes widen at the sight as he felt his face grow hot, hints of pink staining his cheeks. miguel quickly looks away when you look back, painting a neutral face as if he didn’t just see your panties.

“bitch ass wind.” you murmured in annoyance, flattening down your dress, fully unaware of the peeping tom next to you. glancing down at miguel, you noticed the slight hint of pink on his face, making you quirk an brow. “what’s up with you?”

while trying to remain normal despite the image of your panties infiltrating his mind, he brushed it off so casually. “the sun, it’s too much.”

you stare at him for a moment then decide to let it slide with a hum. it’s true, standing under the sunlight for a while makes you feel hot. one time you went to the beach, even with sunscreen yet you still got burnt. you understand him.

after some time, miguel finishes and puts the cleaning supplies back on the shelves. when he turns around and walks back, you’re still sitting on the bike as if it were yours. the sight makes him smirk.

“comfortable much?” he stands beside you, bulky arms crossed over his chest.

“surprisingly, yeah it is.” you glance down at your seat then back up at him. you’re taken back by how close he was, literally right next to you. he towers you so easily, even when you stand. your eyes instantly land on his arms, his muscles flexing. goddamn he’s so built it’s insane. thank god for your sunglasses but for some reason he can tell you’re staring by the smug look on his devilish handsome face.

you then decide to hop off the bike and walk back to your house without looking back. “later, guapo.” the skirt of your dress sways along with your hips, making miguel feel hot and bothered at the sight.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

since that day, miguel hasn’t been the same. those repeated images of your panties infiltrated his mind a like damn plague. no matter what he was doing or where he was at, those images haunted him to the point of insanity. don’t even ask what he does at night because it very obvious. jacking off in his bed, moaning and whimpering like a little bitch. bro was so horny that he felt embarrassed and ashamed for thinking about his neighbor like that.

curse the fucking wind that day.

like you said, “bitch ass wind.”

oh and don’t even start with his weird ass behavior afterwards. miguel started avoiding you like a virus. bro was so down bad for you that he couldn’t even stay in the same room with you. he tried to be like his normal self but low-key he was going insane. not only because of the pantie flash but really because miguel likes you. the sassy, sexy diva energy radiating from you he adores a lot. he couldn’t get you out of his mind. all miguel thought about is you.

you, on the other hand, were confused by the sudden silent treatment. whenever you would visit his place, the garage was always closed. you’d knock or ring the doorbell but no answer. when you did see him, miguel was already drifting off on his bike. not gonna lie, you were a bit butthurt by the sudden distance. did you do or said something wrong? did you make him feel uncomfortable? millions of negative thoughts ran through your mind, wondering the cause for miguel's distance.

after some time, you demanded some answers.

his garage was open for the first time in two weeks. although, miguel isn’t nowhere to be found. his bike is parked so it means he’s home, probably dealing with something inside. while waiting for him, you wander around the garage looking at his stuff.

returning from his room, miguel stops in his tracks the moment he sees you. oh fuck — the woman who’s been plaguing his mind for two weeks stands in his garage only for one reason; and that reason scares him. he nervously glups as he watches you turn around. shit — you’re wearing the damn yellow dress again; the dress that accidentally flashed you.

“hey. what the hell is up with you? you’ve been avoiding me like some fucking plague. did i do something wrong?” you walk towards him, brows furrowed in a concern manner.

ah shit — he knew this would happen.

“no. i’ve just been busy with work.” miguel walks past you, heading towards one of the shelves of supplies. he can feel his heart beating fast, feeling anxious, and his palms growing clammy.

you follow him with a disbelief look on your face. “clearly i did something wrong because we haven’t talked or hung out in two weeks.”

shit shit shit.

now his heart is racing fucking wild. how the hell is he supposed to tell you? he can’t even look at you in the eye, too embarrassed and ashamed.

okay now you’re worried, or confused, or both to be honest. his strange behavior is now getting on your nerves. you notice his clenched fists at his sides, repeatedly opening and closing. you walk around him so you could stand beside him, almost in front.

“dude — what’s going on?” you sound genuinely concerned, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

just as your lips part open to say something, only a gasp spills from your lips as miguel grabs you by the waist and pushes you back against the ledge of the counter. his chest close contact with your face, both of your bodies pressed together leaving no space, sandwiching you between him and the counter. your hot and heavy breaths fill the air between you. very slowly, you nervously look up at the man who towers over you. both of his hands rest on your waist with a firm grip, gently grouping the dip of it. pure lust in those beautiful brown irises of his.

‘oh fuck me’, you thought to yourself.

your body tenses as he leans down towards your ear. “do you have any idea what you do to me? these past two weeks has been torture for me. all i could think about was you and those cute yellow panties you wore with that exact same dress you’re wearing right now.” he ends it with a squeeze to your waist.

oh fuck — his husky voice sends shivers down to your core, making your face flushed. he was thinking about you this entire time? now that’s a mindfuck. your heart skips a beat at his seductive confession. your chest heaves, breathing heavily.

does it make things worse the fact you’re wearing those exact panties right now?

“all i wanna do is ravish you. run my hands over your gorgeous body. bury my face in between those delicious thighs and make you cry from pleasure. scream my name until you can’t remember anything.” his hands slowly run up and down your sides, making you shiver at the sensation.

you can’t help but whimper at his words. god is this really happening? your handsome neighbor, who’ve you been secretly crushing on, wants you. fuck — you can feel your clit pulsating in anticipation.

“mig-miguel…” you softly moan.

“por favor, hermosita. let me have you, worship you.” miguel couldn’t help but start kissing your neck, right on the sweat spot which makes you whimper.

your arms slowly trail up his body until you wrap them around his thick neck, gripping the ends of his hair, making him pull back to look at you.

“worship me, miguelito.” lust laced in your tone.

his eyes darken, pupils dilating at your words. fuck the nickname hits him hard, sending jolts of pleasure down to his dick. he feels himself growing tight in his pants, a bulge forming. without hesitation, miguel smashes his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. god both of you have been waiting for this moment. you guys are practically eating each other’s faces. his tongue sneaks in, licking your lips for access which you gladly accept. a shared moan echoes in the air between you as you explore each other’s mouths. you dig your fingers into his dark chocolate locks while his hands roam your body, groping your curves.

without warning, miguel lifts you up by the waist and plants you on the counter. a soft gasp spills from you when you felt the raging bulge in his pants against your clothed core. while indulging in your heated makeout session, you feel a large hand slowly trailing up your legs towards your inner thighs. your breath hitches when you feel his fingers brushing against your panties, lightly rubbing your clothed core. another hand gently groping one breast. muffled soft moans spill from yours which eggs miguel on. he can’t take it anymore. grabbing underneath your thighs, he lifts you up and carries you out of garage and into his house. he shuts the garage door with a remote on his way inside.

as much as he wanted to take you on the floor of his garage, miguel wanted your first time together in a more comfortable setting.

and holy fuck — you’ve never orgasmed so many times in your life. he pull one after another from you, leaving you breathless and fucked out. also, probably the biggest dick you’ve ever taken. bro filled you up to the motherfucking brim, you’re on the pill so it’s fine but still risky (condoms are better).

and the aftercare, oh my god miguel is the sweetest man. such a gentleman, being sweet and caring towards you. made sure you were okay, getting anything you needed. gentle touches to make sure he doesn’t overwhelm you, whispering praises.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

ever since that night, you started dating.

y’all were fucking almost everyday.

one time, you rode him on his bike. yeah you read that. his garage was filled with your moans, echoing in those four walls. you holding onto his shoulders for dear life while riding the shit outta him. that was a fantasy come true for miguel, fucking you on his bike. oh he was a happy, horny camper. of course the garage door was closed so no one could see you two horny fucks. although, miguel wouldn’t mind people seeing you getting fucked so good by him, to make other men jealous and boost his ego.

the next time was on the floor of his garage. as much as you disliked the cold hard feeling of the floor, you were too cock drunk to care. another one of miguel’s fantasies coming true.

then it was in each other’s bedrooms, mostly miguel’s because he loved having you in his bed. one night after coming from your highs, both of you a panting and sweating mess, you stare up at the ceiling. miguel turns to look down at you, his eyes analyzing your expression.

“what are you thinking?” he was still a bit breathless, caressing your cheek with one hand.

your eyes remain glued to the ceiling. “i think we should just move in together at this point. it’s kinda stupid we’re together yet live in separate houses.”

a smile graces his lips at your confession. “then move in conmigo.” his smile grew wilder when he watched you turn quickly to look at him.

“my house is nicer, plus i have a pool and you don’t.” you shoot him an unimpressed look.

a low chuckle escapes his plump lips which makes your heart flutter. “vale vale, you win. demonio.” miguel continues caressing your cheek, relishing your soft skin against his palm. he nuzzles in your neck, planting butterfly kisses on your warm skin while his hands gently grope your curves.

you let out a satisfied hum as you run your fingers delicately through his dark chocolate locks. the both of you relax in bed, embracing each other.

you love your next door neighbor biker boyfriend.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @loser-alert @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @eatalyy @primroselovessupernatural @ghost-lantern @gaygerthelame

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[reasonsforhope]

"Samuel Onyango’s office at Kibera Primary School is serene and spacious. His table is neatly arranged, with an assortment of files and an array of books. One side of his cream-colored office is decked with aggregate performance scores, and another shows off several trophies in a glass cabinet. Last year, Onyango’s school performed a traditional dance and scooped third place in the National Drama and Film Festivals, where schools across the country competed for the top prize.

But today Onyango, the school’s principal, is bragging about something much more basic: Thanks to an innovative community program, his students and teachers are no longer getting sick from dirty water.

Onyango’s school, with a staff of 30 and a student body of about 1,700, is in Kibera, a neighborhood in the Kenyan capital of Nairobi that is widely known as Africa’s largest informal settlement. It is a community of houses made from mud or tin sheeting where residents have to hustle to meet even their most basic needs, like electricity or clean water.

It is also a community where creativity and innovation, at the heart of any hustle, are changing how some people can access clean water — and making major ripples in public health.

Onyango’s school has long gotten its water the same way many people in Kibera do: by buying it from independent suppliers, who truck water in and sell it for around $30 per 10,000 liters (about 2,650 gallons). But trucked water can be contaminated, despite suppliers’ promises, and Onyango’s students and staff were often using unclean water at home, too. It was common, he says, for both teachers and students to get sick and miss school because of waterborne illnesses.

Last November, Onyango’s school got connected to an aerial clean water system built by a local grassroots organization called SHOFCO, which stands for Shining Hope for Communities. “Once we got connected to SHOFCO’s water,” Onyango says, “cases of these ailments reduced to nil.”

SHOFCO’s water distribution system currently reaches about 40,000 people and distributes more than 3.7 million gallons of clean water per month.

Access to safe drinking water — and its equitable distribution — underpins public health. But for the estimated 250,000 people in Kibera, who live without any government infrastructure, clean water is often a luxury. Many people are using illegal water connections, which proliferate among the poor — there are nearly 130 in just three lesser-resourced Nairobi neighborhoods. But those DIY hookups can mix clean water with raw sewage, and Kenyan officials have recently warned of a looming public health crisis if water access is not prioritized.

Shifting weather patterns also increase the risk of waterborne illness, government officials say. The Ministry of Health and the Kenya Red Cross Society have called out severe flooding during the El Niño weather pattern as a source of a recent major cholera outbreak in parts of the country. Kibera was not spared this risk: The floods led to the contamination of various sources of water in the sprawling neighborhood.

But the aerial piping system SHOFCO built in 2012 — the one that brings water to Onyango’s school — saved some Kibera residents, quite literally. With collaboration from health and county authorities, SHOFCO has all but eliminated diarrheal disease in the communities that use its aerial piping system, according to Gladys Mwende, a program officer at SHOFCO. In the health facilities SHOFCO runs, the incidences of diarrheal infections have also gone down, she adds.

Pictured: People in Kibera’s Makina section pass by the signature blue pillars that hold up SHOFCO’s aerial water piping system. Visual: Sarah Waiswa/Harvard Public Health Magazine

“[Poor sanitation is the reason] that our water is aerial piped,” says Kennedy Odede, the founder and CEO of SHOFCO. Piping water in helps clean water maintain its integrity without interference from elements including tampering. In a huge community with no major infrastructure, piping seemed impossible — there was no money and no will to build a disruptive underground system connected to the city’s main water supply. Instead, Odede and his team put the pipes up in the air. “As somebody who grew up in Kibera, to see this clean water — which I have also drank — is powerful.”

SHOFCO’s water distribution system currently reaches about 40,000 people and distributes more than 3.7 million gallons of clean water per month — nearly 46 million gallons per year — at community water kiosks, which residents access with tokens linked to the mobile money platform M-Pesa. The water kiosks are pre-programmed to fill jerry cans that hold about five gallons at a cost of 3 Kenyan shillings, or about 23 U.S. cents.

A recent evaluation of SHOFCO’s clean water efforts, undertaken by the African Population and Health Research Center, shows diarrheal disease among children under age five have decreased by 31 percent where community members used SHOFCO water kiosks and received SHOFCO’s sanitation messaging.

“We don’t get as many cases of diarrhea even though now we are in the middle of the floods,” Mwende says. “Communities have not reported any outbreaks within the areas where we are working.”

Mohammed Suleiman is grateful for the change. Suleiman, 25, was born here, and it’s been his job for the last 18 years to fetch 135 gallons of water daily for his family’s personal needs and for their samosa business.

Two months ago, Sulieman contracted typhoid from the unsanitary water he was consuming. Once he recovered, he says, switching to SHOFCO water kiosks was a no-brainer.

“I don’t know where the other independent vendors get it from,” he says. But he trusts SHOFCO water. “Water sourced from SHOFCO is cleaner than that of other vendors,” he says. “I don’t have to treat water from [SHOFCO] kiosks before consuming it.”

And he’s the living proof: Since switching to SHOFCO water, Suleiman hasn’t been sick even once."

-via Undark, August 13, 2024

[o-sachi]

Isagi Yoichi ₊⊹ Headcanons

ଳ Character; Isagi Yoichi (Bllk)

ଳ Tags; (random) regular/platonic hcs

— He’s the type of person who avoids stepping on the cracks on the sidewalk whenever he goes out on his usual walks. Whenever he does accidentally step on a crack, he lets out an audible ‘tsk’ and is a bit annoyed by the fact.

— On the top shelf of his cabinet, there’s a reused cookie tin where he chucks all the cool rocks he found on his walks. He has had the thing since childhood and now he doesn’t know what to do with it. So it has been collecting dust there and he’s pretending that it doesn’t exist.

— He’s a plain texter, but not a dry one. The only shortcuts he uses are otw, brb, ty, and btw. He’s guilty of overusing this emoji 🙂 and he unironically uses this one 😊. He uses both in a non-sarcastic manner. His top 5 emojis are: 🙂👍🏻😂😕⚽️

— His room is neat and tidy which his parents constantly praise him for. However, the colors are a bit dull. The only eye-catching area would be his manga shelf. He’s proud of his collection and enjoys rearranging it whenever he buys new manga. He arranges them by genre, so he can easily find something to read to fit his mood.

— He is a MAJOR sweet tooth. He’d eat sweets exclusively all day if he could. The only thing that’s stopping him was that one time he got extremely sick after eating too much kintsuba as a little kid. “Moderation is key,” he’d say while eating sweets.

— Despite being a sweet tooth, he’s not a picky eater. He eats anything his mother cooks which he is praised for as well. He doesn’t particularly hate any kind of food, but he’d prefer not to have bitter stuff. Even though he’s an active and growing dude, he isn’t much of a big eater. He actually gets full pretty fast.

— He likes to tell dad jokes which he stole learned from his dad. His personal favorite (which makes him chuckle a bit before saying it) is, “What has 4 wheels and flies? A garbage truck!” The only person who has laughed at that joke was his younger cousin that came to visit them at their house some time ago.

— His parents keep an odd doodle of a cyborg-looking creature picture framed in their kitchen. It was one of Isagi’s drawings from when he was just 6 years old. He gifted it to his mom on her birthday because he thought she loved his art.

— His biggest pet peeve is people who chew loudly. Somehow he can hear it more compared to other people. It irks him so much to the point that it makes him lose appetite altogether. He usually eats faster, so that he can relieve himself of those horrid sounds.

— Whenever he goes to the mall, there are 3 places he absolutely needs to visit. The first one is the sporting goods store so he can check out some new football equipment he might like. The second one is the 100¥ store (dollar store). He likes to look for cool trinkets and kitchen tools for his mom or tools for repair for his dad. Lastly, he has to go to the sweets shop that sells his favorite kintsuba.

— Much like on the field, it’s like Isagi transforms into a different person whenever he’s playing multiplayer games. It doesn’t matter if it’s the enemy or his teammate—they’re all catching some fire.

— Sometimes he can’t fall asleep quickly because he’s thinking up of scenarios (he does this to fall asleep quicker, but it has the opposite effect). He likes to repeat events if they didn’t turn out well or if it wasn’t as vivid as he wanted it to be.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ Likes and reblogs are appreciated

o-sachi © 2024

[n3kk1tty]

"Imagine being the adopted Daughter of the Sinclair brothers showing up in Travis county one day after buying a piece of land and a home to start a new life for you and your fathers. "

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Ambrose burned down that night and you were lucky to escape with what you did. Your twin father's clinging to life as tears streamed down your face tearing out of there before the cops could show ripping your family from you. You made sure you wouldn't be followed. No one would find your family and take them from you. You had grabbed what you could in the hours before departure after pulling your father's to safety and killing one of the survivors. You and Lester filled two cars with what you could before setting the whole town ablaze in a finale good bye. Your family home and town in mass flames as nothing would survive. Too many bodies to determine if you all had died in the fire or not.

You were a smart girl and had dreams of one day leaving the nest you just didn't think this is how it would turn out. When your fathers Vincent and Bo came to you were already across Louisiana state lines into Texas with your father Lester following in his truck. In the aftermath your family had found another ghost town to set up in. You were happy your years of prep for a life on the road had paid off as you had a lot of money to spare to help start this new chapter. You were practically tossed the keys to the house and land for cheap as everyone was abandoning this town, happy to sell for nothing. Bo took long to adjust to the change, getting into fits at having nonstop maintenance to do on the house and new garage. While Vincent lamented at the tragedy of what happened and how all his art was gone.

You had managed to snag only a small box of your fathers tools and art journals in the fire but had made sure on a trip to pick him up new art mediums when you went towns over for supplies one day. You remember how hard the quiet man hugged you when you awkwardly showed up in his basement room with a box of different art mediums. Signing to your father while you spoke. " I know it doesn't replace what we lost that night. But maybe it's time to try new mediums just like our new beginning. I love you dad." After that day Vincent would dive into new mediums every time you brought him some. He quickly took up wood carving and mask making to replace his wax prosthetic while using his oil pastels to draw the texas sunsets.

You and your father Lester were the most positive of the family about the move. You did your best to make the house a home and to keep the family together while Lester got work a ways out picking up road kill just like he used to. The only piece of mind with him having such a long commute was the fact Jonesy was always with him and he was just a call away. Your family lived in the quiet town for a few months blissfully unaware of your cannibal neighbors lurking in the ghost town as well. That was until you started frequenting the corner store for goods. Things like nails, cigarettes, and beer became a regular on a trip for you to do as Bo was always asking you to pick up things while he stayed home mumbling to himself.

It wasn't till your third trip did Luda Mae start questioning you. You brought the beer to the counter pointing to the cigarette brand your father liked. " A husband at home who likes to drink and smoke missy?" You let out a small laugh in response to the older woman. " No, no. Sadly not Married nor dating Ma'am these are just for my father. He's been working on our house and having me go fetch him things. " The woman perks up behind the counter. " Working on a house you say. That wouldn't be in this town would it. Ain't hardly anyone left let alone new comers. " You lean across the counter the sweetest smile you could muster in your face.

" We actually like the quietness of the town. Haven't had time to meet our neighbors though after moving in a couple of months ago. We've been too busy trying to get the house in order. I think I have already lost count of the days with how much I've been in my garden or kitchen all day. " The older woman pulls in a seat motioning for you to sit with her at the counter as she interrogates you. " So you like keeping yourself busy? Is it just you and your father and mother in the house, I know I'll be losing track of days myself keeping up with the three boys in my house. "

You laugh as you shyly scratch your head. " No ma'am. Never had a mother before. I'm a little embarrassed to admit it but I'm adopted by three brothers. They kinda found me abandoned when I was younger in this roadkill dumping ground and when they brought me home none of them could decide who the father would be so they are all just kind of my dad's. Now I know that must be a little strange and off putting to most but I sware that's my life. Though I guess legally my Pa Bo is my father as he took me to appointments when I was little. "

The woman could feel her maternal instincts fluttering in her chest as she schemed a way to make you her daughter. Luda Mae was determined to be the mother you never had, or even mother in law. " Oh that sounds like something silly three men would do. Must have been tough growing up with no mother. " You sigh to yourself as you think back to the home you can never return to a sadness hurting your heart. " I mean my father's certainly struggled teaching me to be lady-like. If it wasn't for my dad Vincent I'd probably still be running around in a baseball cap and boy clothes being a wild child. He used to fuss for hours learning how to style my hair like all the other little girls and make me dresses to wear since sometimes money got tight. "

" Oh you poor thing. What brings y'all to Travis? Planning on staying long or are you gonna set out on your own eventually. " Your smile drops as you half heartedly try and smile again at the woman but she can tell that question hurt you. " No, I think I'll stay here with my dad's. Our last home was burned down thanks to burglars and we barely made it out alive. I'm just doing my best to hold my family together. They are all I've ever known and I wanna keep them safe. I should probably be heading back before the beer gets warm."

Luda Mae walks you back to your car patting your back as you finish your chatting. " Well you know men. If you don't tell them to take a break they will work themselves ragged. My old man Bo is probably fiddling in his garage or in the house again. I'd love to come by for a visit, Miss Luda and give a proper introduction since we're neighbors. Maybe I should bring some dessert for your boys. " The woman smiled as you started the car up. " Oh (Y/n) I think my Tommy would fancy meeting you. " A blush and a nervous laughter arises as you remember back to the last time you attempted romance and how Bo and Vincent nearly made him a wax figure in Ambrose.

" I'd be charmed to meet him. I'll be seeing you around ma'am don't work yourself to hard. " After that day Luda Mae became determined to hook Tommy up with you. You were the perfect candidate for her son. The list of womanly house chores you could do was phenomenal and you were a sweet family oriented girl who was pretty to boot. The next visits to the shop you brang the old woman all sorts of things while you two spend the time chatting away. Like homegrown veggies, or fruit you snagged outta town, you even brought her some embroidery you did while learning with Vincent. All things Luda Mae appreciated and shown how you were the perfect daughter in law for her. She brought the things home showing them to Tommy talking his ear off about how she found him a bride finally and the man was excited just to get a look at you.

Hoyt caught wind of the newcomers in town and decided since he was the sheriff he might as well introduce his authority. Luda Mae almost took his family jewels though stating that you were Tommy's and Tommy's alone so to keep his hands off her future daughter in law as the man got ready to drive over. It took the whole Hewitt family to stop Tommy from hopping in the back of the car to catch a peek. Luda Mae had to assure him that you'd meet in due time but she was buttering you up for your new position.

At your house you had snagged bees to add to your new little farms addition so you were attending to your helpers. There wasn't much food out here and you and Lester were the only ones bringing in money so you figured homesteading was good enough to keep your family fed and happy. Trips out to town were long and tedious like Ambrose but you made do with selling things at the farmers market to help bring home ends meat. Your little farm had rabbits, chickens, and bees for wax now. You beamed in pride up at the window as Vincent signed to you. " Bees ? For wax ? Bee- careful not to get stung. "

You laughed at your fathers joke as you smiled as you signed back to him. " Very funny Dad. " Suddenly a cop car came rushing down the pebble road to your home. You freeze in fear as Vincent takes notice of your face rushing to grab Bo and his tools as your brain rushed with the thought that your family had been found. You were panicking. How did they find you. There was no way anything survived that fire or the victims could pin point you. Your eyes darkened as you grabbed the knife in your apron pocket. No one would take your family from you without paying with their life first. The sheriff hopped out the car standing in the driveway to your porch as you stood in your gardeners outfit and sunhat before him. " Well hello sheriff what brings you all the way out here?"

" Well I sheriff Hoyt would be surprised that we have newcomers in town who haven't even met their local police officers yet. Luda Mae has been chatting up a storm about you missy and I figured since I'm the sheriff of our small town it only makes sense to get to know who I'm protecting. " Your grip loosens from the knife in your apron as you let out a relieved sigh. " Well my goodness sheriff what an honor it is you drove all the way here to meet us. I'm sorry I would have been dressed a lot nicer if I knew someone so important was coming. Why don't you get outta the heat sir. That uniform must be blazing in this heat I'll go grab my father and some lemonade to cool you off. " The man's ego felt extremely boosted by your demeanor as he took a seat in the rocking chair on the porch.

You rushed inside in time to stop your twin father's from rushing out the door to mangle the sheriff. You push your hands on their chest signing out with your hands what's happening just so you know no one can hear. " It's just one of Luda Mae's boys. The lady from the store said her son was the sheriff. He isn't here for us, just to introduce. " Bo stares down grumbling as he wipes his hands clean of car grease. " Guess we should make peace with our neighbors. Stay outta it if things go south though. Understand. " You smile at him as you go to the kitchen Vincent following behind as you shout to the man. " I will Pa. You want beer or lemonade?" You laugh as Bo replies back lemonade is fine as he doesn't wanna share his booze with the sheriff just yet.

The front door swings open as Bo towers over the man on the porch. His face switches to a smile as he walks over to the sheriff sticking his somewhat cleaned hands out. " Well hello there sir. How kind of you to stop by. I'm Bo Sinclair the man of the house. Sorry about the car grease, was working on my truck. " The sheriff shakes his hand as he looks the man up and down. At least they weren't bikers or hippies he thought as the pair sit down making small talk as you bring drinks out. The two spend hours shooting the shit almost bonding over there disdain of the bikers in town. They talk about the town and its history while Bo eventually offers to fix up the sheriff's car as it looks like it could use a look under the hood.

By the time the old men are done chatting and taking a look at the car discussing Bo fixing up cars for the sheriff and splitting profits off of car scraps Lester and Jonesey are making it up the drive way for dinner. Hoyt ended up meeting the whole strange Sinclair family that night as he stayed for dinner. Fresh veggies and beautifully seasoned food with dessert and beer. The man almost didn't want to leave and agreed with Luda Mae your family's would be best together through you and Tommy's future wedding. Though Hoyt wouldn't tell your fathers as the twins were built out of brick and Lester was proud to show off his roadkill job so winning the Sinclair's favor was the Hewitts plan.

That night Hoyt went home with a full stomach and plenty of leftovers as your rabbits were well multiplying like rabbits. The sheriff tossed the leftovers plate to Tommy as he patted the boy on the back saying he was lucky. " We found you a good one boy. Gonna have to marry that one so me and my future business partner can keep bringing good meals like this home. " Tommy nearly licked the plate clean as the cucumber salad and roasted rabbit were heavenly on his tongue and when he got to the Mississippi mud pie on the plate he almost wanted to run over there now and officiate the wedding. Tommy was even more excited as Hoyt told him not to worry about his face as your father Vincent had a birth defect to his face as well. Talking about how if Tommy asked he would probably make him one of those fancy prosthetics to boot.

The first time you met the giant guard dog of the Hewitts was on the faithful day you invited them all over for dinner. The Summer heats had been rough but you Sinclair's had made your new home finally to your liking and it only took half a year. Hoyt and Bo were thick as thieves in their car business. Your garden was flourishing as you did wonderfully at the farmers markets selling off eggs, rabbits, and flowers. On rare occasions you'd sell art that Vincent made. All the Sinclair's had pulled together and were now financially stable again and adjusted to their new lives. The past may have burned down but the new peace you had you wouldn't trade for the world.

Maybe Ambrose going up in smoke was the blessing you all needed as it took with it the past bad memories as well as the good. Along with the Sinclair's doing good that meant the Hewitts got to thrive off of your generosity as well. Luda Mae spent hours making Tommy scrub off blood and dirty from his body to be presentable for your first meeting. You had brought the woman many fancy soaps from your trips to town and she was currently doing her best to make the man smell like roses. She even went out of her way to trim back his hair and freshen his clothes. With the last spray of stolen cologne the Hewitts were piling into the new fixed up car they had fixed up by Bo.

When they arrived the porch was lit up with fairy lights and the old Texas farmhouse was now as beautiful as it ever was. New paint and many maintenance later with your adding of decorations and dried herbs on the porch the Sinclair's property was the prettiest in Travis county. How either family never broached the topic of murder was a mystery as it wasn't like Bo wasn't making people disappear for car parts and cash when they wandered into your property. Can't have his new sheriff friend being crossed with him but the Sinclair's weren't going to let anyone take their new home from them. While the Hewitts kept with keeping their freezer stocked.

Both families stood in front of each other smiling while their dark secrets made them even more similar than they thought. Tommy nervously handing you a bouquet of wild flowers he picked while you tried talking to the behemoth. The Hewitts made themselves comfortable in your living room while they talked your fathers up. The same fathers who kept glaring down the Hewitt boy any time they thought he was stepping out of line with their beloved daughter. You two were watched like a hawk as Tommy nervously fiddled with his dress shirt while you softly talked to him trying to get him to look at you. Gentle hands felt his forearms as he tried to communicate back but couldn't as he was unable.

The Sinclair brothers watched like guard dogs around their daughter as you sat with Tommy on the couch teaching how to use sign language to communicate with you. Jonesey sat by you getting pets as you taught him how to sign dog. You liked the sweet man you did. He was shy and big but he was a gentleman to you as electric shot through your heart every time you touched. The Hewitts plan was working and you and Tommy were just in the beginning stages of your love story they thought. The two family's after that night became thick as theives. You and Tommy were paired together most days then not afterwards as the boy would get so excited he would happily do the long walk to your property just to see you.

Even if his help wasn't needed he would be there for an hour so you could teach him sign while Vincent worked away on a better prosthetics for your boyfriend to be. Every time this boy lumbered up the porch he'd bring you a gift and be as clean as possible while happily making noises at you. You even started sneaking off to the Hewitts under the guise of helping Luda Mae in her own garden and home just to see Tommy. Under the Texas heat love bloomed in the air and the families grew closer and closer together. You were so close it was becoming harder to hide each other's secrets.

It all came out in the open one day though when one of the victims came out of the basement when Bo and you were over to help. They came running out covered in blood begging you for help in the kitchen with you and Luda Mae in the middle of pickling. They yanked you away while swinging the knife at the old woman shouting for everyone to hear that the Hewitts were monsters and you should leave. The old woman panicked begging for you not to leave coming up with excuses as the victim lunges at her. With a swift wack of a cast iron they were slumped in the floor as you made work to cutting the vocals cords and Achilles tendon in the poor thing.

Luda Mae stood in shock as her sweet gentle future daughter in law was blankly using a knife to finish the girl off making sure she wasn't gonna be causing a fuss anymore. You stood above her as you looked at the old woman, blood smearing your face as you laughed. " Guess our families are a lot more alike than I thought Luda Mae. " Bo and Hoyt came sprinting into the room noticing the blood and girl on the floor as Hoyt was prepared for the worst of having to fight his friend before the mechanic gave an approving chuckle. " That's my girl. Quick and effective. Well come on Hoyt the ladies can't keep pickling with this bitch on the floor so let's get it cleaned up. I'm hungry for some lunch too. Would y'all ladies mind making us men something. "

After that the families solidified a friendship between the two Travis County quickly became a place for people to disappear and die. The Sinclairs did not partake in the cannibalism like their friends but they would gladly help lure victims or finish people off. The families were always at each other's places to help and soon we're even helping fix up the corner store and the Hewitt home. Life was peaceful and eventually Tommy got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. Through the little sign language he did know under a southern live oak tree Thomas Hewitt asked for you to be his girlfriend.

You gleefully said yes as you tackled the man down to the ground placing a loving kiss to his face. You two hid under your tree from your prying families as you spent the evening in each other's arms giggling away as you exchanged kisses and bated breath. Your life in Ambrose may have been destroyed in that fire that night but you wouldn't trade your new beginning for the world. A fire could destroy the past but it also could warm your heart to the new future to come.

This was an idea in my head after I rewatched both movies. If y'all want more of Thomas Hewitt X Sinclair daughter make sure to let me know or if you want more Sinclair Daughter posts in the future.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

[Chapter 1] New Beginnings

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Creampie, Cum Play

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Not even two months after your husband’s death, you find yourself completely broke. There’s no more jewelry or rare items in your house that are actually worth something. You don’t have any more furniture that you can sell. The money you make is barely enough to pay the mortgage to your house. Leading to only one option:

Selling the house.

You hold many memories dear to you between the house’s walls, but at some point your basic necessities are more important than mere memories. You have many pictures that can help you recall the happy moments, which should be enough for some time. Maybe one day you can rebuy the house, but for now you don’t count on it.

In the end, the house is far too big for a single person. And too gloomy for you. The sun doesn’t shine and brightens the house like it used to. Lately every corner is dark, full of recollections of him and his life. It completely brings you down because he’s gone. 

When you pack everything up is when you come to the realization that you’re better off elsewhere. Somewhere that’s big enough for you, a place you can afford. A place that doesn’t bring back the happy memories that not too long after turn gloomy and sorrowful. Somewhere you can start fresh and forget about it all. Forget the first twenty-four years of your life. Even the happiest moments.

Your quest to forget leads you to the outskirts of town, finding an apartment cheap enough that allows you to take two months off work to live off the bit of your savings and the profit of selling the house– But of course, you won’t be doing that. You’ll find a job immediately and use your savings to buy what you need and buy some of the furniture that you had sold. 

But right now you aren’t all too worried about what couch you want for your living room, instead you’re more concerned about getting the mattress up to your floor and into your room. You rented a moving truck and managed to convince the old grumpy neighbor next door to help you pack up some of the stuff, but now he’s miles away. You have no idea what you’re going to do next because you have no idea who anyone is.

So you stand outside the building, arms crossed as you try your best to figure out what you’ll do next. You can try to carry all of it to the third floor, but that won’t be too easy or good for you. You decide to leave it there for a moment and begin to go upstairs to finally see your new apartment. You were in a rush to find a cheap place to move to, and you didn’t even bother to check the unit out. You don’t really care if the place is luxurious or if it’s the biggest dump in the place, you just want to figure out where you’ll be putting your stuff. 

It feels like quite a workout when you get to the third floor, making you put your hands on your knees and pant for a moment. You realize that getting your stuff upstairs won’t be such an easy task, but you’ll somehow manage. Somehow. You still have to figure it out.

When you catch your breath, you walk to your door, your hand going into your pocket to find the key. As you get it out, someone who you can only assume is your new neighbor, walks to the door that’s next to yours. Apartment 381.

He’s tall and seemingly strong, or at least the shirt that hugs him tightly gives that impression. He has black hair that reaches around his ears, certainly in need of a haircut. He doesn’t look like the friendliest to approach, but you wouldn’t feel too comfortable knocking on your other neighbors’ doors asking for help. You’re too focused on the stern look on his face that you nearly miss the little boy that holds the white plastic bag.

“Uhm… Excuse me?” You cringe at the way your voice cracks when you speak up, but regardless, you continue walking up to your neighbor. He turns to look at you, and while usually men’s eyes light up at the sight of you, he holds the same expression throughout. You tell him your first name before asking, “I need help carrying some stuff up, and I was wondering…”

He looks you up and down, taking in every detail before he nods in response. “I need you to watch the kid for me.”

“Oh– Okay. But I’m not sure you can carry it alone.” You tell him, and he chuckles. You’re not sure why he laughs, but you know it makes you nervous. You begin to question your words before he speaks again,

“Oh, trust me, I can.” He answers. “Just open the place, take the kid in, and make sure he doesn’t kill himself.”

You aren’t too sure if it’s the wisest thing for him to leave his son with you, but you aren’t going to argue with it. You know you’re not a murderer or a bad person in general– But your neighbor doesn’t know that. Regardless, he’s accepted to help you and you won’t argue about it. 

“Okay, Megumi, will you go with the nice lady for a moment?” The man asks his son, who tries to hide from you behind his father’s leg. It doesn’t work too well, while his father is big he isn’t quite big enough to completely hide him. You lean down a bit, putting on a smile for the kid.

“Hi, Megumi.” You wave at the little boy, and you see him peek. He pulls on his father’s jeans a bit, making the man sigh. When Megumi senses he’s made himself too visible, he goes back. You can’t help but chuckle. “Seems like Megumi is shy.”

“C’mon, Megumi. She’s nice.” The man says, and you can’t help but chuckle again as you decide to open your apartment. Megumi doesn’t let go of his father’s pants, and the man ends up sighing. “I’ll get you some ice cream afterwards.”

It takes you by surprise when the boy comes to your side, but at the same time you really aren’t. It’s a hot summer day and kids love ice cream. You open the door and peek at the place. Nothing too luxurious, that’s for sure.

“Here.” The man gives you the plastic bag, which you take. He looks to find the truck where your stuff is, and he quickly spots it. He points at it just to make sure, “That’s it, right?”

“It is.” You respond, and he nods in response. You watch as he begins to walk away and you decide to walk inside with Megumi. The place is rather small. You’ll say that. The living room, dining room, and bedroom are all in one place, and there’s a small door that leads to the bathroom. To the left of the entrance is some counter space, a small stove and a small fridge. The apartment isn’t something big, but you weren’t expecting much because you’re not paying too much for rent.

“Alright, Megumi, you can sit wherever you want… Sorry I don’t have anything to entertain you.” You tell him, and he walks to a corner of the place and takes a seat on the floor. You look at the contents of the bag that you hold, and you see some convenience store snacks. Which you can only assume is their breakfast.

“Is this your breakfast?” You ask, walking over to the young boy. He hums in response and you grab the sandwich from the bag and give it to him. He takes it from you and struggles to open the food so you end up opening it for him. You give him the food and he begins to eat quietly, and you’re unsure of what to say or do. Which leads you to ask the question, “What’s your daddy’s name?”

“Daddy.” Megumi responds with a mouthful of food and you can’t help but chuckle. You aren’t surprised by his response, although he should be old enough to know his father’s name, but you won’t pay much attention to that detail. It’s none of your business. You look at him for a moment, trying to figure out what else to say.

“How old are you, sweetie?” You continue asking, and the young boy holds three fingers up when he manages to hold the sandwich with one hand. He’s not much of a talker, at least not with you. You’re a mere stranger. At least you’re glad that you know the kid won’t run off with a stranger. The front door opens and you see the man carrying the mattress in. It was faster than you expected, and he doesn’t struggle all that much. At least he doesn’t seem to be struggling.

“Isn’t this a little too big for the place?” The man’s voice sounds normal, not showing any sign of strain. He puts it right in the middle of the free space of the apartment, and you’re shocked that he was able to carry the mattress up with no problem. “Not judging… It’s your place.”

“No, you’re right. I just didn’t know how small this place was.” You share. He slowly nods before he looks at the watch that’s on his left wrist. He realizes how late it is, but he sees from the corner of his eye that his son is eating what they bought. You two awkwardly stand in silence for a second before you speak up, “What’s your name? I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier. It slipped my mind.”

“I’m Toji Fushiguro.” He answers. You smile at him, putting your hands in your pocket awkwardly. You aren’t sure what to say until you remember you have to at least thank him for his help.

“Well, Toji, thank you. I really appreciate it.” You tell him. 

“How about I help you with the rest of your stuff? I don’t have anything else to do today other than to watch the kid.” He offers which catches you off guard, but you aren’t going to refuse the help. “I’ll just get some toys from my place to keep him entertained while he’s here.”

“Alright, sounds amazing. Thank you, Toji.”

A few hours after Toji gets everything in your apartment, you find yourself attempting to organize everything. There’s no place to put everything. You don’t have a closet to put everything in so you try to put all your clothes in drawers. But obviously there isn’t enough space for everything so you’re putting old clothes in a pile to donate. 

That’s what you spend all afternoon doing, and by eight at night you’re left with two boxes. Two boxes that are filled with his clothes, ones that you’ll leave alone. Leave them in a corner to collect dust, taking up very valuable and limited space.

You don’t notice how late it is until you open the door to your apartment and see how dark the sky is. You had plans of making something special for the neighbors in apartment 381, but clearly it’s too late for that. You really have nothing in your apartment to make food, and by the time you’re done grocery shopping, it’ll be way too late for cooking and showing up at their door with food. 

However, you get an amazing idea. You go to the neighbor’s door and knock. You patiently wait for Toji to open the door, and you feel slightly nervous. Toji is an intimidating man. Although you can say he’s nice– sort of. But you still feel extremely nervous as you wait for him to open the door. You don’t want to interrupt anything. 

“Oh, hey.” Toji opens the door and he doesn’t look too pleased. You’re overthinking because that’s definitely the same look that he had on his face. He crosses his arms and waits for you to say something, but you’re taking a bit too long. When he opens his mouth to speak is when you remember that you have to say something. This isn’t your usual behavior.

“I’m going to get some food and I was wondering if you guys wanted anything… To show my appreciation after your help.” You stumble over words and you notice every mistake which makes you internally curse yourself. Toji looks at the time on his watch and spends a moment thinking about your offer.

“Kid is in bed. But I’ll take up your offer.” He answers, and you slowly nod in response, a weak smile coming to your lips. You feel bad about the kid missing out on this opportunity. Although his father did all the work, you know that he was uncomfortable with you. Poor kid barely said a word, although he was entertained with his toy.

“Were you also going to bed?” You ask and he looks in his mind for what to say. He ends up shaking his head, although he was actually going to bed because he doesn’t have anything else better to do. “Did you take him out for ice cream already? I’m thinking of buying him some tomorrow because I just feel bad.”

Toji steps out of the apartment, not wanting to wake up his sleeping son by conversing. Toji shakes his head again, he had completely forgotten about what he told his son. He ends up saying, “It’s fine. He won’t remember.”

“Well maybe a pack of popsicles or something. It’s hot out and it’ll certainly help you two.” This time Toji doesn’t say anything. Popsicles do sound nice, especially since the AC system in his apartment needs some fixing. He does wonder if that’s affecting you too since you just moved in and your unit doesn’t have AC, but he notices you wear some shorts and a tank top so it can’t be affecting you too bad. “Do you want anything specific from any place?”

“I just want a beer. Get whatever you want.” He answers as you two begin to walk to your place. Toji isn’t all that worried about leaving a sleeping Megumi in the apartment alone. It’s like leaving him in another room of a house, especially since your place is right next door. If the kid was awake it’d be a whole different problem. 

Toji notices immediately how organized everything is, and he’s fairly shocked because he completely left it a mess earlier. Boxes everywhere, the little furniture you had in the middle of the place. Majority of the boxes are now empty and piled up elsewhere. He does notice a pile of clothes on the floor, but he assumes those are some clothes you’ll either donate or sell. There’s not that many. 

“Sorry for the mess.” You comment and he can’t believe his ears. This place is way more organized than he expected. He doesn’t say anything though, he just looks around the small area and takes in every detail. His place is just like this– Well his is a bit bigger and he obviously knows how to make space for him and the kid. “Do you know any good restaurants nearby that deliver?”

“Hmm… There’s this good place down the street. You can look up the menu.” He informs you which you do. He tells you the name of the place and you look it up. Meanwhile, he awkwardly stands around, hands in his back pockets. You realize this and are quick to say,

“Please, take a seat… Wherever you like.” You can’t help but feel bad at the fact that you have no place for him to sit on, other than your bed or the floor. He’s awkward too, and if it weren’t for the fact that his brat isn’t with him, he’d suggest going to the actual place to eat. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, and stares at you while you look at the menu, “I know I have to make a few changes around here.”

“It’s fine. It’s your place after all. Not here to judge.” He responds. He shifts around in the bed for a moment before saying, “At least it feels comfortable.”

“Oh it is. But it’s definitely taking up too much space. I might get a futon or something.” You tell him, sitting down beside him on the bed. You begin to order what you want on your phone, picking things that you think Toji might like. 

“So why did you decide to move here?” He asks so the place isn’t filled with an awkward silence. He can only assume money troubles, because why else would you choose to live here? There might be some other reason though, and he might as well get to know you. He has to know that a criminal isn’t living right next door to his son.

“Just needed a change of scenery… and money troubles.” You mutter the last part, but he hears you. It’s nothing to be ashamed about because he knows. There’s no point in hiding it, why else why would you move here? Toji might not be the brightest guy but he certainly isn’t an idiot. “So what do you do, Fushiguro?”

“I’m a mechanic.” He answers. He looks around for a second, trying to figure out what you do. But he can’t figure it out through the indistinct room. He has no idea which ends up in him asking, “What do you do?”

“I used to work at a daycare.” You respond. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing here, though.”

“Hmm… There’s many places that are hiring around.” Toji tells you. You sigh in response, already dreading going back to work even though you don’t even have a job yet. You liked your old job, but you weren’t in the mood to deal with screaming children. To be honest, you weren’t in the mood for anything. But it also helps to distract you from everything. It keeps you busy. “I think there’s a daycare around here too.”

“Who takes care of Megumi while you work?” You question since he clearly doesn’t know if there’s a daycare around. Perhaps he hires a sitter, but you find that as a more expensive alternative.

“I keep him in the shop with me. They love him there. He’s in his corner playing with his toys while I work.” He informs you, which you’d generally be worried about if it weren’t for the fact that his son is clearly a calm kid. 

“That’s a great way to save money. Kids are fucking expensive.” You chuckle before a yawn escapes your lips. You’re so incredibly tired, and it’s very clear. Toji can tell since you talk less energetically than you did earlier. “Your kid seems like a good one.”

“He’s definitely very calm. I don’t think I could’ve gotten luckier.” Toji looks at the corner with the two unpacked boxes and wonders what’s in them. Maybe it’s winter clothes that aren’t worth unpacking. He doesn’t question it, not that he cares about prying, but because he thinks he has it figured out, and the question doesn’t seem worthy enough to roll off his tongue. 

You stand up and walk to the fridge, opening it to get a water bottle. You hold one up to show him, and he opens and closes his fist which leads you to throw a bottle at him. You open the bottle and bring it up to your lips, chugging the water until it’s nearly empty.

“Any special plans for tomorrow?” You ask, walking back to the bed, taking a seat beside him. He purses his lips together, thinking about what he’ll be doing tomorrow. Which makes you bring up, “If not, I can take you two out for ice cream. Then get some popsicles.”

“Hmmm… I feel like you’re being too nice.” Toji comments, which is something he has never done before. He appreciates gratitude and getting things, but he just feels something is up with you. There’s this sadness behind your eyes that makes him feel guilty. “Dinner is more than enough.”

“Dinner for you, ice cream and popsicles for the kid.” You say. He can’t argue about it. You look at him, taking in every detail of his face. He’s quite handsome, you’ll admit. But no one’s looks compete with him. Either way, Toji is handsome. Even with the stern look on his face, one that you doubt will change because it hasn’t changed all day.

You have a couple questions, but unlike Toji, you don’t mean to pry. There’s a knock on the door, which means that the food is finally here. Definitely faster than either of you expected. You stand up and walk to the door, opening it and taking the bag of food.

“Food’s here.” You announce, although you don’t have to.

You two end up eating on the ground, and not much happens after you begin to eat. When there’s no more food left, he goes back to his apartment.

A week after you move in is when you come to realize how rare it is to bump into your neighbor. The man in 381, of course, because you have yet to meet the neighbor in 383. You have yet to meet any of your other neighbors. You don’t really care about getting to know them or having any sort of friendship with them either way. The only reason you care a bit about seeing Toji is because you owe him and his son ice cream. 

You remembered the next day, but when you knocked on his door, he wasn’t there. And every single other day of the week you were busy job hunting. As Toji told you, there is a daycare, and luckily enough for you, they needed some extra help around. Your first day is on Monday, and you feel ready. Maybe all you needed was some time off because you’re excited to start again. Maybe it’s because none of the parents know you or what you’ve recently gone through. Going back to work not even a week after your husband’s death was truly one of the hardest things you’ve had to do, mainly because everyone knew him, and everyone felt so pitiful whenever they looked at you.

It’s near four in the afternoon, and you’re carrying some groceries upstairs. Your hands are full, and you’re scared of dropping something. When you finally reach the third floor is when you get offered some help. Toji spots you and he’s quick to walk to your side and take some bags from you. 

“Thank you.” You sigh in relief when he takes majority of the bags from you. You get to your apartment and you open the door, allowing him to walk into the place and put the bags on the counter. You put the bags that you have on the floor, and while you’d usually begin to unload the groceries and put them in their designated spot, if you start doing that, Toji will walk out and you won’t see him again for God knows how long. “I still owe Megumi that ice cream.”

“Right… Sorry we’ve been busy. Poor guy got sick.” Toji informs you. You can’t help but pout, feeling bad for the kid. “If you’re not busy we can go now. He’s stuck at home watching TV.”

“Let’s do that.” You smile. You put your index finger up before saying, “Give me a minute to put these away. Groceries are too expensive to let some of them spoil.”

“You’re right. While you do that I’ll get the little guy ready.” He says before he walks out of the apartment, leaving you to put all your groceries away.

You walk alongside Toji and Megumi, who guide you to the ice cream parlor. The walk– Which isn’t so long, feels like an eternity because it’s so hot out. You’re sweating, and Toji notices the sleek sheet of sweat on your body. It makes him comment, “We’re almost there.”

“Okay.” You mutter, extremely hot. Thankfully, in less than two minutes you get to the place. Toji picks up his son from the ground to allow him to look at all the possible flavors that he can pick from, making the young boy lick his lips. There’s so many options to pick from.

“Alright, Megumi, what do you want?” Toji asks as the boy puts his hands on the cold glass that separates him and the delicacy. While the boy hums, trying to decide what he wants, you order some ice cream for yourself.

“I want…” Megumi begins, but he can’t seem to figure out what he wants. Chocolate seems amazing, but that pink strawberry-flavored ice cream really catches his eye. But vanilla is one of his all time favorites. It leads to nowhere. “I want…”

“He wants cookies and cream in a cup. One scoop.” Toji ends up deciding, getting too impatient with the indecisive child. You can’t help but chuckle as you hear this. Toji clearly isn’t the patient kind. Megumi gets his ice cream cup, and Toji puts him down on the floor. “Rocky road cone for me. Two scoops.”

“C’mon, Megumi.” You tilt your head and shake it towards the table. The boy is unsure whether to follow you or not, but then again, you’re the reason he has ice cream so maybe you’re not so bad. He does end up walking with you to sit down at the table. He slides into the booth, and you sit on the opposite side. 

You both focus on eating the ice cream in front of you, which is nice. Generally kids you’ve worked with are very talkative and don’t enjoy their food because they’d rather converse. Although you don’t usually mind, it’s nice being able to sit in silence for a moment. Until Toji sits down next to his kid and begins to talk. 

“The sweet neighbor lady is buying you the ice cream, what do you say?” Toji asks his son and Megumi is too focused on his ice cream to say anything. But Toji clears his throat, grabbing the cup from the kid and putting it on your side of the table, a place that Megumi’s short arms won’t be able to reach. You’re about to hand the child back his ice cream because you don’t really care for a thank you, after all this is all to show your appreciation to Toji and his son for helping you out next week.

“Thank you.” Megumi ends up saying, which gets his father to hand him back the cup of ice cream. He quickly indulges himself in his treat. You smile at the kid and respond,

“No problem.” You reply. You quietly lick the cone, before it comes to your mind, “Please don’t call me the sweet neighbor lady. It makes me feel like a grandma.”

“Right, sorry.” Toji ends up chuckling. Now that he hears it, it does make you sound old. You don’t look old. He’d guess you’re around five to ten years younger than him. “The sweet young neighbor girl.”

“That’s better.” You laugh. You have many questions you want to ask, and right now would be the perfect time to ask them, if it weren’t for the kid that’s sitting down next to Toji. If it also weren’t for the fact that this is practically the second time you talk to him and you don’t want to be too intrusive. You bite into the cone and chew, thinking of what question to ask because the silence with them both makes you feel uncomfortable. Until you finally swallow, grabbing a napkin and cleaning the corners of your mouth before asking, “Did you have a busy week at work?”

“Yes.” He answers, looking over at his son to see how far along he is with his ice cream. Not even halfway done. But then again, Megumi is a small kid. “How about you? Did you find a job?”

“I did. Thankfully.” You respond. You smile at him, “At the daycare you told me about. Luckily enough they needed someone else since someone recently quit.”

“Really? That’s nice.” Toji really isn’t all that interested in your job, but he won’t be his usual rude self. He likes you, somewhat. “Maybe you can get me a discount for Megumi or something. It’d be nice for him to spend time with kids his own age.”

“Hmm… I was told I can get a 75% discount for my own kid. Don’t know if they allow you to give discounts to acquaintances.” You inform him and he ends up nodding in response. Maybe he’d be a bit upset if he didn’t have a cone of ice cream in his hand. “But since I don’t have any kids, I could pass him off as my own. As long as he doesn’t snitch, I think we’ll be fine.”

“That sounds perfect.” Toji's eyes perk up, maybe it’s because he wants to get the kid off his back for a bit. Or maybe it’s because the price of child care is too expensive and the man is trying to save up money so that he and his son can move somewhere else soon enough. Either way, he does appreciate it.

“I would have to fill out some forms and whatnot, but I can take him with me on Monday.” You tell him. He’s about to thank you for it, but Megumi puts his cup down and taps his dad’s arm, causing Toji to look down at him.

“I’m full.”

Near midnight you toss and turn on your bed, too hot to fall asleep. You have yet to get an air conditioning unit, and it’s too hot for you to sleep. You’re lying naked on top of your bed, and you’re still covered in sweat. Your windows are open, but the breeze that enters the place is a hot one and it doesn’t help you at all. At this point, you aren’t sure what to do. At least tomorrow you have all day to sleep.

You sit up on the bed a sigh leaving your lips before you get up and walk to the fridge to get a bottle of water. You put it up to your forehead, relieved. You walk back to your bed and lay down once again, running the cold water bottle through your body. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

There’s a knock on your door, which makes you frown as you get up from your bed. You begin to walk to the door until you realize you’re completely naked. You walk back, grabbing the clothes that are on the corner of the bed and putting them on. They don’t cover much but it’s better than walking out naked. You go to the door and open it, a bit annoyed at whoever is knocking at this time. But you aren’t as annoyed when you see your neighbor, who holds some papers.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?” Toji asks, looking over at you, and you shake your head. He has to tear his eyes away from your body, looking at the very short shorts and the white tank top that leaves little to the imagination, your hard nipples poking through– There’s some spots that are wet which he wonders what they are but eventually figures out it’s sweat because it’s extremely hot out, and he doesn’t feel any cold air coming out of your place. “I was going to give you these tomorrow but I’m busy all day.”

“Please, come in.” You tell him, moving to the side to allow him to step into the place. He puts the papers down on your kitchen counter before he says,

“Just some basic stuff for registration. Important stuff you should know too. He’s allergic to oranges and shellfish.” He begins to tell you and you slowly nod. “Sorry for coming so late, I just couldn’t find everything. Forgot where I put it all.”

“It’s fine. Not like I was doing anything.” You respond. You awkwardly stand around, and neither of you say anything until you ask, “Megumi is asleep. I assume.”

“Yeah… Little guy is knocked out by eight every night.” He shares. He doesn’t seem like he’ll walk out soon, so you close the door. The man looks around the place, seeing no changes to the place yet. “It’s hot in here, are you okay?”

“I can’t sleep.” You confess with a chuckle. 

“Not to sound like a pervert but like this, it’s best to sleep naked.” He says making you laugh.

“I was doing that, but I obviously can’t answer the door completely naked.” You point out which he hadn’t really thought about, but it obviously makes perfect sense. He can’t blame himself though, he knows he isn’t the smartest of the bunch.

“I don’t think anyone would complain about that.” Toji comments and it makes the heat go straight to your face. And it isn’t due to the high temperature from outside. You bite your bottom lip as you begin to walk over to him.

You’re lonely, touch-deprived and feeling a bit too confident. Maybe it’s the heat that’s taken over your emotions, but Toji is very handsome and you haven’t been touched in over a year.  Your body craves it. Maybe you should listen to your body for once.

“What are you trying to say, Fushiguro?” You ask when you’re right in front of him. He looks at your lust-filled eyes, much different than that look that you always have. A smirk comes onto his lips as he looks down at you. “Do you want to see me naked or…?”

“Who would complain? Certainly not me.” He answers as you grab his hands and put them on your hips. How horrible would it be to have sex with your neighbor? It certainly isn’t the smartest idea, but you aren’t thinking of future consequences. You feel his hand go under your shirt and his touch feels as if it burns your skin. His lips go down to meet yours while his hands go up to feel your breasts. He begins to play with your nipples as his tongue enters your mouth.

He’s touch deprived as well, the last time he’s been with someone was around three years ago. And like you, he knows it’s not the best decision to fuck his neighbor, especially since you’ll be taking his son to daycare and getting him a discount, but he isn’t thinking of the consequences. Although he should, because he knows how women are, and he certainly doesn’t want an actual relationship from this. Yet he doesn’t stop his tongue from pressing against yours, and he doesn’t stop one hand from going to your ass while the other continues pinching your nipple.

You pull away from the kiss, grabbing the hand that squeezes your ass and telling him, “Follow me.”

He does so, and you guide him to your bed. You sit down on the bed, and you give him the sweetest look as you look up at him. Toji smirks before he pushes the rest of your body down on the bed, “The first thing I thought about you was how hot you were.”

“Hmm… Really?” You bat your eyelashes. He hums in response as he begins to pull down your shorts, and he’s very surprised to find that you’re wearing no panties. His lips go back to yours while two fingers run through your folds. He feels how wet you are, and he’s surprised because he hasn’t done anything yet. His lips go down, kissing your neck and down to your covered breasts. He pulls down your tank top and latches around your nipple, gently sucking. Soft moans begin to leave your lips as he does so.

He unlatches and kisses the valley of your breasts before he latches on your other nipple. His fingers continue to run through your folds before they begin to play with your clit. You’re so touch deprived that every subtle touch is enough to drive you wild. So much so that you’re way too loud, causing him to detach himself from your nipple and he says, “The walls are very thin. Don’t want you to wake anyone up.”

“Sorry.” You mutter as he stands up straight, pulling down his sweatpants. He takes his cock into his hand, his thumb spreading the pre cum that’s on the tip before he slowly pumps it. He looks down at you, watching as you bite down on your bottom lip.

“Don’t think this is something more. This is just sex.” He tells you, causing you to laugh.

“I should be the one telling you that.” You reply. Once he knows he’s gotten the message across, he runs the tip through your folds. He slowly pushes his dick inside of you, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head. Toji’s dick is long and thick. You weren’t expecting anything else, but it’s definitely much more to take in once he’s actually inside of you.

He gives you a moment to adjust, while also giving himself a moment to adjust. He shuts his eyes, barely being able to handle it. He just forgot how good this was. So incredibly good. You’re biting down your lip as he slowly begins to move, remembering his comment about the walls. You didn’t think this would be so hard.

“S’ fucking good.” Toji groans, feeling as you squeeze around him. He can’t take so much but God, is it good. His hands grip to your hips so hard that you’re sure there’ll be some bruising. But you really aren’t focused on that. “Your pussy is so good.”

“Fuck…” You mutter as his thrusts pick up speed. Your back arches, pleasure overtaking your body with each of his movements. And you’re so focused on yourself that you don’t notice how his thrusts become unregulated, until you feel that warmth fill you up, causing your eyes to go wide.

Toji’s eyes also go wide, realizing that he finished so quickly. It leaves him embarrassed. It causes his cheeks to go pink, which is thankfully not noticeable. This has never happened to him before. And you definitely know it’ll strike his ego if you tell him that you were planning on telling him to pull out, something you should’ve done before you started. He’s about to apologize but decides otherwise, getting on his knees and his tongue running through your folds.

Your mind goes blank again, all other thoughts leaving your brain as he begins to lick your cunt. He tastes himself on you as his cum oozes out of your cunt. His tongue goes to your clit and he slowly flicks it while your hand goes to his hair.

He has the purpose of making you come on his tongue, and you feel it as he’s so eager. You lick your lips before you bite down on your bottom lip. His tongue goes to your entrance, getting some more of his cum on his tongue before he pushes his tongue inside of you. It’s so good. Too good.

“That’s really good.” You say, trying your best to control yourself as his tongue wanders inside of you. When he takes it out, his tongue licks up and down your cunt before once again focusing on your clit.

You feel your orgasm quickly build up, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as it slowly overtakes you. Him finishing so fast was worth it because you doubt you would’ve felt like this before. Your thighs begin to squeeze his head while he works so diligently.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan as you finally reach your peak. He detaches himself from your pussy, first leaving a kiss on your clit. He stands up and starts getting himself ready.

“This never happened.” He tells you, not even a minute after. But you have no problem agreeing with him.

After all, the last thing you want is a relationship.

🏷️ @Instantgalaxysheep @happidiluc @Konekobby @bbqyuyuworld @slut4madara @keithslonelyreadingcorner @Tarajaxx @galactict3a @cloudsinthecosmos @uhremmi @sillyalo @klonisx @sakurasimppp @sunflwrsugar @tojianddabisslut @hiraeth117 @charismaya @megumuro @lilith412426 @violet-19999 @otakusan90s @jumpinjaxx @whatdudtheysay @jjmsg

[deliciousangelfestival]

Tears In His Ferrari - 12 || End

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Theme: Fluff, Slice of Life, Heart-Warming.

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Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2,Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 , Chp 8 , Chp 9 , Chp 10, Chp 11 , Chp 12

Bucky's purpose in visiting Toby's house was simply to make a quick stop before heading to the markets. However, as he stepped inside, he immediately sensed that something was amiss. The once cozy atmosphere was replaced by an unsettling sense of disarray.

Furniture was overturned, and the air was thick with tension. Bucky's heart raced as he cautiously made his way further into the house. Then, he heard a low, pained groan from behind the couch.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Bucky approached the source of the sound. There, lying on the floor, was Toby's grandfather, his face contorted in agony, blood staining his lips. It was evident that he had been injured, but the circumstances surrounding it remained a mystery.

Kneeling beside the elderly man, Bucky felt a surge of urgency. "Gramps! Who hurt you?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with concern and alarm.

Toby's grandpa slowly opened his eyes, his voice trembling with pain. "My son is here..." he whispered, his words laden with fear and despair.

Bucky's breath caught in his throat. He knew all too well about Toby's drunken father, a man plagued by addiction and violence. With a heavy heart, he gently moved Toby's grandpa to the safety of the nearby couch, all the while silently cursing the man responsible for this chaos.

Quickly dialing the local police and the hospital, Bucky surveyed the scene, his mind racing with worry for Toby and his grandmother. As he was about to reach out to Y/N for assistance, movement caught his eye near the open door.

There, Toby stood, bravely blocking the path of a menacing figure, his expression resolute despite the fear in his eyes.

The intruder's voice rang out, filled with aggression and entitlement. "Where's the fucking key?" he demanded, his tone dripping with malice.

Toby remained steadfast, refusing to yield to the man's demands. "I won't give it to you," he declared firmly, his voice tinged with defiance.

"Bullshit. I heard the person who gave it is rich. Just say that you crashed it, and he will give you another truck."

Toby shook his head defiantly. “No.”

The intruder's voice grew more aggressive. “Shut up.”

But the intruder's patience wore thin, and with a swift, violent motion, he struck Toby across the face, the sound of the blow echoing through the tense silence of the room.

Bucky couldn't bear to witness the brutality any longer. With a surge of righteous anger, he pushed through the doorway, confronting the intruder head-on. "Get your hands away from him," he commanded, his voice laced with a steely resolve.

Bucky's sudden appearance startled both, the intruder who name is Jack and Toby, their eyes widening in surprise as they registered his presence.

Jack clicked his tongue in annoyance. "And who might you be?" he sneered, his tone dripping with contempt.

Bucky's fists clenched at his sides, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "You hit your own father and son?" he spat, his voice heavy with disgust.

Jack scoffed dismissively. "A real man can take a punch," he retorted callously, his words a feeble attempt to justify his despicable actions.

But Bucky knew better. "Not like this," he thought bitterly, his gaze narrowing with disdain.

"Are you planning to sell the truck and squander the money on your gambling addiction?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Jack's face twisted into a sneer. "This guy doesn't know how to respect his elders," he grumbled, his words dripping with disdain.

Bucky's patience wore thin. "You may be old, but you're acting like a child," he shot back, his voice firm and unwavering.

With a derisive snort, Jack lunged forward, his fists raised in a clumsy attempt at aggression. But Bucky was ready. With lightning-fast reflexes, he dodged Jack's clumsy attack, retaliating with a powerful punch that landed squarely on Jack's jaw.

The force of the blow sent Jack reeling, his eyes rolling back in his head as he crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Toby watched in stunned silence as his father lay unconscious at Bucky's feet, the aftermath of the altercation sinking in as the room fell into an uneasy silence.

Jack fainted, overwhelmed by Bucky's superior fighting skills despite his attempts to retaliate.

Though victorious, Bucky couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that washed over him at the sight of Jack lying unconscious on the ground.

“Toby, Bucky! Are you all right?” Y/N's voice echoed through the room as she rushed in, her concern evident in her tone.

Toby, bearing the marks of his father's abuse, managed a weak nod. “Big sister,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N knelt beside Toby, enfolding him in a comforting embrace. “It's okay,” she reassured him softly, her arms wrapped protectively around him. Then, her gaze shifted to Bucky, who stood frozen in place, his expression clouded with remorse.

Sensing his inner turmoil, Y/N gently took Bucky's hand, her touch a soothing balm against the bruises that marred his skin.

“Bucky,” Y/N's voice cut through his thoughts, drawing him back to the present.

He blinked, his attention snapping back to Y/N as she addressed him.

She peered at him with concern etched on her features. “Does it hurt?” she inquired, her eyes scanning his bruised hand.

Bucky shook his head, forcing a reassuring smile. “No,” he replied, though the ache in his hand begged to differ. “Let's get them to the hospital,” he suggested, his voice firm and resolved.

🏥

At the hospital, Bucky found himself in the waiting room, his mind still reeling from the events that had unfolded. The doctors had assured them that Toby's grandpa and Toby were alright, which brought a wave of relief.

“What about Jack?” Bucky inquired, concern evident in his voice.

The doctor let out a snort, clearly familiar with Jack's reputation around town. “That man's just sleeping. You gave him a good punch,” the doctor remarked, offering a pat on Bucky's shoulder.

“Bucky.”

Startled, Bucky turned to find Y/N sitting beside him, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos.

“None of this is your fault,” she reassured him, her voice soft but firm.

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but Y/N silenced him with a gentle shake of her head. “Nobody's blaming you. Everyone knows Jack is an asshole,” she added, a hint of wry amusement in her tone.

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle at her candid remark, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“It must be the first time you've faced this situation,” Y/N observed, her gaze searching his face.

Bucky nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in her words.

“Do you need a ride?” Y/N offered, her concern evident in her eyes.

Bucky met her gaze and nodded gratefully. “Yes,” he replied, relieved to have her support.

But when Bucky returned home, a sense of unease still lingered within him. He sank onto the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, attempting to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him.

When he opened his eyes, he found Archie lying beside him, his loyal companion in times of distress. Bucky scooped him up and made his way to the car.

Turning on the engine, he pressed down on the gas pedal, the familiar rumble of the car providing a sense of solace. He needed to clear his mind, to escape the suffocating weight of guilt that threatened to consume him.

The events of the day played over and over in his mind, each moment haunting him like a relentless specter. If only he hadn't given Toby the truck, perhaps none of this would have happened. The thought gnawed at him, a constant reminder of his perceived failure.

He couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. The image of Toby, battered and bruised, at the hands of his own father, seared into his mind.

Thinking of his own father, David, only intensified his turmoil. David, who had always been patient and kind, never once raising a hand in anger. Bucky couldn't help but feel like he had failed to live up to his father's example, his own shortcomings glaring in comparison.

Lost in a whirlwind of overwhelming thoughts and emotions, Bucky felt the hot sting of tears pricking at his eyes. He didn't bother to wipe them away, letting them fall unchecked as he drove aimlessly into the night.

The road stretched before him, a seemingly endless expanse of asphalt leading nowhere. And so, he drove on, seeking solace in the rhythmic hum of the engine, hoping to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos of his mind.

🏎️

Until the car came to a stop in front of the imposing mansion.

The night had grown late, the darkness enveloping the surroundings in an eerie silence.

Bucky stepped out of the car and approached the grand mahogany door, his hand hesitating for a moment before knocking.

The door creaked open, revealing the familiar figure of Butler Bernard. His expression shifted from surprise to recognition upon seeing Bucky standing before him.

"Young Master?" Bernard's eyes widened in disbelief at the unexpected visitor.

Bucky offered a small smile; his voice sounded raspy and exhausted. "Hey Bernard. Is dad still awake?"

Bernard nodded, his features etched with concern. This could be the first time he saw the young master look this tired. "Yes, he's in his study."

Bucky nodded solemnly and gently passed Archie into Bernard's surprised arms before stepping into the familiar halls of his childhood home.

David, still immersed in his work, was taken aback by the unexpected appearance of his son. Concern flickered in his eyes as he observed Bucky's troubled expression.

Setting aside his documents, David removed his glasses and rose from his desk. "What's wrong, son?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Bucky remained silent for a moment, his emotions swirling inside him like a tumultuous storm. Finally, he found the courage to speak, his voice trembling with emotion as he reached out to his father.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Bucky began, his voice thick with emotion. "All this time, I've been ungrateful to you."

Tears welled up in Bucky's eyes as he embraced his father tightly, the weight of his remorse heavy on his shoulders.

Bucky clung to his father, his emotions finally breaking free as he poured out his heart. "I've been so selfish, Dad. I've taken everything you've done for granted."

David was taken aback by Bucky's sudden words. He held his son close, his heart aching to see Bucky in distress. "You're not selfish, son," he replied, his voice gentle yet firm. "You've been trying to find your way, and sometimes that means making mistakes."

"But I've been so blind," Bucky admitted, his voice muffled against his father's shoulder. "I never realized how much you've sacrificed for me, how hard you've worked to provide for our family."

David pulled back slightly, cupping Bucky's face in his hands so he could look him in the eye. "I've always been proud of you, Bucky. You may have made mistakes, but you're learning from them, and that's what matters."

Bucky nodded, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I want to make things right, Dad. I want to be someone you can be proud of."

"You already are, son," David assured him, his voice filled with warmth and love. "And no matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."

With those words, father and son shared a moment of understanding and forgiveness, their bond stronger than ever.

David gave his son a reassuring pat on the back before letting him go. "Seems like something happened today. Get some rest," he advised gently.

Bucky nodded, grateful for his father's understanding. "Hmm," he murmured, his mind still heavy with the day's events.

*******

The next morning, Bucky woke up early, his body attuned to the rhythm of farm life.

Even Butler Bernard noticed his early rising. "Sir, you can't sleep?" he inquired.

Bucky chuckled. "No, I've had enough rest. Where's Archie?"

Bernard replied, "Ah, I gave him breakfast. He woke up even earlier than me."

Meanwhile, David made his way to the dining room, surprised to find himself the last one awake. It was usually Bucky who slept in until 10 a.m.

Observing his son playing with Archie in the backyard, David couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and nostalgia. Bernard, too, noticed the change in Bucky. "Young Master has grown up," he remarked.

David sipped his coffee, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. "Yes," he agreed quietly.

While Bucky was back at his own home, he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. There were no crops to harvest, no eggs to collect, and no livestock to tend to. And most notably, there was no one to annoy him—no Y/N.

Sighing heavily, Bucky was pulled out of his thoughts by Butler Bernard's voice. "Young Master, someone called for you," Bernard informed him.

Bucky grabbed the phone, secretly hoping it was Y/N, but his hopes were dashed when he heard Steve's voice on the other end. "You're home, punk? Let's meet," Steve said.

Bucky's disappointment was evident in his tone as he responded, "Oh, it's you."

Steve chuckled, picking up on Bucky's mood. "Hey, why do you sound so disgusted with my call?" he teased.

Bucky shrugged, trying to mask his disappointment. "Just a little. Where do you want to meet?" he asked, resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be spending time with Y/N anytime soon.

🎉

When Bucky arrived at the usual gathering spot with his friends, he was surprised to find that Steve had organized a homecoming party for him. Cheers erupted as Bucky stepped into the venue, greeted by the smiling faces of his friends.

Expressing his gratitude, Bucky thanked everyone for the warm welcome. However, despite the lively atmosphere and celebration around him, Bucky found himself feeling oddly subdued.

Steve, noticing Bucky's subdued demeanor, couldn't help but ask, “Something bothering you? Or are you sick?”

Bucky shook his head, forcing a smile. “I'm fine,” he replied, though it was a lie.

In truth, he couldn't shake the unease he felt witnessing the abundance of expensive food and drinks being wasted at the party. He couldn't help but think of the hard work of the farmers who had grown and harvested those crops.

Steve, always one to jump to conclusions, chimed in with his own theory. “Must be a girl,” he teased, nudging Bucky playfully.

Bucky simply looked at his friend, a mixture of amusement and contemplation in his eyes.

Steve snapped his fingers. “I'm right. I bet it's not Kate since she's left for London. Let me guess, Y/N?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “She's just a friend, but how did you know?”

“It was a trade secret,” Steve said with a grin.

“I've known you for a long time. I can see that you've disconnected from this life,” Steve said, his tone serious.

Bucky sighed. “I guess so.”

“You should go to her,” Steve murmured, a knowing look in his eyes.

Bucky's brows furrowed in confusion. “I'm sorry?”

“I said you should go to her. What are you doing here?” Steve reiterated, his voice filled with conviction.

“You're right,” Bucky admitted, feeling a sense of clarity over him.

🏎️

Bucky left the party, feeling a sense of urgency to sort things out with Y/N. He spotted a familiar truck parked outside as he drove back to his house. Y/N was here.

Hurrying inside, he found Y/N and his dad in conversation. David noticed Bucky's arrival and excused himself. Now it was just Bucky and Y/N.

Bucky felt a lump form in his throat as he struggled to find the right words. “Hi,” he managed to say, his voice tinged with awkwardness.

Y/N's expression softened as she looked at him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and relief. “Is that all you have to say? You suddenly left. You made us worried,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of reproach.

“I'm sorry,” Bucky replied, his tone filled with sincerity. He couldn't shake his guilt for leaving abruptly and causing concern.

"How's Toby and his grandpa?" Bucky inquired anxiously.

"They're fine. And Toby has been looking for you too," Y/N responded with a hint of concern.

Y/N sighed, her eyes softening as she reassured Bucky. “You still feel bad for hitting Jack? Don't be. That man deserved it. And your dad made sure no one would bother Toby and his grandparents again.”

Bucky's brow furrowed in surprise. “My dad?” he echoed, taken aback by the revelation.

Y/N nodded, her expression serene yet determined. “So, are you going to stay here or go back to the farm?”

Bucky fell silent for a moment, pondering her question. Then, with a decisive nod, he reached out and took Y/N's hand. “Let's go back,” he said, his voice filled with newfound resolve.

With a shared smile, they walked out of the house together, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them, hand in hand. It was a new beginning for both of them, and they embraced it with hope and optimism.

-End-

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