#took me ages to write i hope you like it!

[milla-frenchy]

Morning waves

3k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Frankie Morales | ao3

Summary: you meet two men who are on a road trip. You like the same things: the ocean, surfing, dancing and having fun

Warnings: 18+ mdni. threesome MFM, praise kink, fingering, public sex, oral (m/f), piv, dp, anal play, rimming, anal, spit as lube, creampies

No age specified

a/n: this is a contribution to Jamie’s ocean challenge @mermaidgirl30 thank you for this great idea 👌🙏

I've wanted to write Frankie for a while, and even more so after reading “Down the hall” @frannyzooey 😍😍 and this challenge was perfect to introduce him as my new Pedro boy. 

Dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing, for the ideas, and for holding my hand with this one, as always 💕 🫶

Masterlist

*********

The first rays of sunshine were already warming you through the windows of your car. You were driving towards the ocean, ready to enjoy its waves. Every morning, very early, you were going to your favorite surf spot. This morning like the others, a few other surfers were also present. Between each set, you were all waiting on your boards, straddling them, letting yourself be carried away by their calm movement.

“You’re impressive”, you heard behind you.

You turned around, and met the most beautiful, sweetest brown eyes you had ever seen.

“Frankie, another set is coming.” You didn't look at the man who had spoken, immediately turning your gaze towards the horizon and new waves that were forming. You surfed that set and a few more. 

When you were returning to the beach, you saw the man called Frankie taking off his wetsuit. The man next to him was doing the same. They smiled at you, when you approached them.

“Hi! I’m Joel, and this is Frankie.”

“Hi, guys!”

“Nice waves!” Frankie’s smile was really sweet. And cute.

“Yeah! Where are you from? I’ve never seen you before. And with that drawl…Texas, I guess?”

Joel laughed and replied “yeah, Austin. We’re on a road trip. Coming from northern California, heading to the south. Are you from here?”

“Yeah, I live here. I’m on holidays, enjoying the ocean.”

“That’s great! Seems like heaven here. Do you know any cool bars? We’ve just arrived, and we’re gonna stay for some time in this place,” Frankie asked. 

“Yeah, there’s ‘The lagoon’. I'm gonna be there around 6 p.m., if you wanna join me?

“Sure! We’ll see you there.”

You spent the evening with them at the bar. Frankie and Joel had been friends for a long time, they told you about their trip, their lives in Texas. Joel worked as a contractor and Frankie was an ex-military, doing jobs with Joel from time to time. They were nice, cool, and made you laugh a lot. They were not flirty nor pushy, and you felt good and safe in their company.

Joel had a certain self-confidence, and was more direct than Frankie. His brown hair was shorter. His smile was devastating. Every evening, when the three of you met again, he wore jeans and a blue or black T-shirt which accentuated his torso and biceps.

Frankie was a little shyer. His slightly longer hair called for your fingers with its brown curls. His eyes and smile were incredibly soft. He often wore lighter pants, gray or brown t-shirts. A cap that he only took off to surf. Both men were beautiful.

You spent the next evenings with them, dancing and drinking shots at The lagoon. Every day you looked forward to seeing them at the beach, then at the bar. They were doing pretty well at surfing, asking for some advice from time to time, and making great progress. 

One night, the three of you were on the beach, hoping to catch some Northern Lights. And you weren't disappointed. The sky was colored with pink, purple and blue lights, while you were lying next to each other on the sand, a little closer than usual. And when Frankie kissed your forehead and Joel your cheek as you were lying on the blanket between them, you felt heat in your core. You saw them differently for the first time.

The Lagoon was crowded. You sat on a stool at the counter, sipping your cocktail until you saw Joel enter the bar. He smiled at you and you wondered how many hearts he had broken. He was so hot. He joined you, hugged you and said “hey, sweetheart” with his Texan drawl.

“Isn’t Frankie here?” you asked him.

“He should be soon. He went to get a tattoo.”

“What, now?”

“Yeah”, he laughed.

You two danced, his hands settled on your hips. Slightly more intimate than usual. He smelled good. He smelled like the sun and the beach. He ran his hand over your back, which your summer dress barely covered. And when your eyes met, something was different.

You walked back to the counter, and he was smiling as he was drinking his beer. His eyes were fixed on you.

“What?” You asked him, smiling too.

“You’re damn pretty, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened slightly, hearing him. It was the first time he told you something like that. So directly. Even though last night, on the beach, the atmosphere was different between the three of you. Even though two minutes ago, when you were dancing, you felt the warmth of his fingers on your skin, and your hair stood up from the desire for him.

He waited for a few seconds, checking on your reaction. Took another sip. When he saw you smile at him again, he leaned towards you, his nose brushing against your cheek, his hand resting on your waist. You felt goosebumps again. Some electricity between you. And you saw in his eyes that he was feeling the same thing.

“Wanna have some fun tonight?”

You felt heat reach your cheeks but you nodded and murmured, “yeah.”

“Yeah?”

He got up, stood between your knees while you were still sitting on the stool, and leaned forward to kiss you. You felt your heart rate speed up. He placed his hands on your bare thighs and caressed them, slightly pushing the fabric up, as you ran your fingers over his biceps. Then he slipped one hand between your legs. Slowly. Stroking your inner thigh. You whimpered when his fingers brushed against your pussy through your panties.

“You want more, darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel...”

“You gonna let me finger you in here?” he asked, his cheek against yours. His soft beard against your skin.

“Yeah…”

He slid your panties to the side, and his fingers brushed against your folds, making you moan into his neck. He looked up and said, “hey, Frankie.”

You felt shy and tightened your thighs against his legs. He kissed your cheek then said in your ear, on the side where Frankie was standing to make sure he would hear “I’m sure he’d love to touch you too,” before looking back at you. His fingers were still brushing against your delicate skin, and you really wanted to feel him more. To calm the fire, burning you from the inside.

You looked at him, then turned your head towards Frankie. His stare was still soft, but not only. You saw the desire for you in his eyes. 

“Do it Frankie”, you told him. At that moment you didn't care about anything else anymore. The crowded bar. The people who could see you, and wonder what the three of you were doing. Or knowing too well what you were doing.

“Are you wet, baby?” Frankie asked.

You nodded and whined, the second Joel pushed a finger in your core.

“She’s soaked”, Joel said, nuzzling your neck, and you bit your lip. 

“Damn, baby,” Frankie moved closer, the two men now standing in front of you. When one of Frankie's fingers joined Joel's in your pussy, your fists clenched their shirts. One of them stroked your clit with his thumb, but you didn’t know who. It turned you on even more. Their fingers slid into your wetness, pumping your pussy at the same rhythm, and you tried to hold back your moans even if it was getting more and more difficult.

“You're gonna come for us?” You shook your head “I…I can’t. Not here. Too many people.”

“Forget about them. Soak our fingers, baby. And then we’ll have some time together in our van if you want.”

“Yeah…Yes. Fuck.” You felt their eyes fixed on you. They were close to you, so close, protecting you from the eyes of others. Your pussy tightened around their fingers and you were trembling more and more. You felt another thumb near your clit that soon replaced the other one, and whimpered. Your pussy was trickling, and they could have pushed more fingers in easily.

“Come for us, sweetheart. Right here, in this bar. God, you’re fucking hot.”

You bit your lip as you came on their fingers, your pussy clenching desperately on them. They kept fingering you through it, until one of them put your panties back in place, then your dress. You watched Joel lick his finger with a look full of desire, and your arousal increased even more. 

“Take me to your van, please. I need…I need more”, you breathed.

Frankie kissed your cheek, and Joel placed his hand on the small of your back as you got off the stool. Your legs were shaky and he held your elbow until you reached the parking lot then the van. Frankie offered to come to the back with him, on the mattress that they had already set up for the night, without knowing how it would end. You both lay there as Joel started driving. You didn't know where and right now you didn't care. Frankie was already leaning towards you, kissing your cheek then your neck. Your fingers ran through his soft curls. His hand rested against your face at first, then he brought it to his mouth. Licking the finger you had come on, just as Joel had done a few minutes before.

“Damn baby, you taste so good. Can I go down on you?”

“What, now?”

“Yeah. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

“Fuck…Ok.”

The van was swaying on a bumpy road when Frankie knelt between your thighs, and took off your dress, then your panties. He brought them to his nose and breathed them slowly, keeping his eyes on you, and the vision was intoxicating. The way they wanted you was driving you crazy. He turned the front of his cap backwards, and lay down between your thighs. He growled as he licked a long stripe between your folds.

“Jesus Christ, Frankie…you lucky bastard”, Joel said.

Frankie was already lapping at your pussy, and he was good at it. So good that you already felt a new orgasm building, while he was drinking all your wetness, his thumb twirling on your clit.

“Frankie…oh my god”, you whimpered. 

You heard Joel unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. “You’re so hot that Joel can’t help fisting his cock while driving, baby” he said, before licking your folds again.

“Fuck, of course I do. All these moans are killing me. How does she taste? Tell me.”

“The sweetest taste, man...” He grabbed your thighs to pull you closer to him. As if he wanted more, always more, and you couldn’t stop moaning.

“Jesus...” Joel growled, as you heard the sound of his wrist fucking his cock.

Your fingers were lost in Frankie’s brown curls, while his nose rubbed perfectly against your clit and his tongue roamed your pussy.

“Frankie…”

“Yeah baby, tell me.”

“Your fingers, please, need your fingers.”

“Like this, mmm?” he asked, pushing two fingers in you.

“Yeah…your tongue too, please.”

His lips surrounded your clit, sucking gently, before giving way to his tongue. His wrist gently pumped your pussy and you felt your wetness running down your folds to the sheets.

“Fuck, baby…I can hear the pretty little noises of your pussy from here, you’re so fucking wet.”

“I know, I know, oh my god, Frankie!” You squeezed his head between your thighs when you came, letting him lick your folds until you stopped shaking. The van's engine was off, but you didn't realize you had stopped. You heard the sound of the waves as Joel opened his door to join you in the back.

“Fuck sweetheart, look at that… he ate you good, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah…fuck”, you breathed out.

Frankie shifted aside slightly and Joel lay down, his shoulders between your knees. He caressed your folded thighs, and delicately licked your wetness, being careful not to stimulate your overly sensitive clit.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’. Lemme eat ya just a little, ok? “ he said, moving his hand up your sweaty stomach, to a breast that he grabbed. Frankie kissed your thigh, while he caressed your other breast. You moaned again, your stomach rising rapidly with your heavy breathing. Joel’s beard rubbed against your inner thighs. He ran his tongue flat through your folds, sometimes down to your tight ring. Before going back up again, tirelessly. You imagined their hard cocks and you couldn’t wait to feel them in you. 

“You want us to fuck you, baby?”

You nodded, “yeah, need your cocks.”

“Damn, could do this for hours. How do you want us?”

“I huh… I don’t know, I’ve never done that…with two men.”

They looked at each other then Frankie said “we’re gonna undress and we’ll see how it goes, ok?”

“Yeah, seems good.”

“If you’re not comfortable with something, you tell us right away, ok? We’re all here to have fun. Ok, darlin’?”

You nodded and smiled. They were so considerate and careful with you. You helped Frankie unzip his pants and take them off, then his boxers, and held your breath when you saw his cock. “We’ll go slow,  baby”. “We?” You widened your eyes and turned to Joel, already in his underwear, taking off his t-shirt. “Oh fuck”, you said when you saw his bulge. You brushed his crotch and he spread his thighs wider. He was so hard, and so big too. You whispered “fuck...” again, before getting on all fours, facing him. You took his cock out of his boxers, the precum glistening on his red tip. You spread it with your thumb and jerked his cock, while Frankie was caressing the roundness of your buttocks, kneeling behind you. You licked the tip, letting Joel’s taste run down your mouth and then your throat.

“You’re ready for me, baby?”

“Yes, Frankie.”

He nestled his cock at your entrance, pushing in. You whined when he thrust deeper, gripping your hips as leverage. And for a minute you didn’t move, Joel’s cock in your hand, catching your breath. Frankie kept thrusting until he bottomed out. Pushing on your walls.  And you started to suck Joel’s cock, his hands on your head, but letting you lead the pace.

You moved your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on Frankie’s cock. He wasn’t moving, letting you lead too. Your mouth on Joel’s shaft followed the movement of your hips at the same pace as you impaled yourself on the cock, piercing you.

“Fuck, fuck. Sucking me so good.”

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. So good for my cock.” You loved how they were praising you. Frankie’s hands roamed your body. Your back, your waist, your hips, as your thumbs caressed Joel’s balls, your head still bobbing on his shaft, your lips gradually getting used to his size.

You pulled him out of your mouth and licked his tip, looking at him you asked, “Frankie, will you let Joel fuck me?”

“Of course, anything you want.”

You lay on your back, inviting Joel to come between your thighs. He lay there, his cock in his hand, and pushed in. Frankie lay against you, and turned your face towards him. Kissing you as Joel thrust in.

“Damn, sweetheart…Frankie was right, you’re so tight. Squeezing me so hard, fuck…”

You whined in Frankie’s mouth while Joel was kissing your neck. He thrust in slowly before pulling back. Repeating the movement endlessly, while your legs spread wide gave him full access. Frankie leaned down and took one of your breasts in his hand, sucking on the nipple, his lips wrapped around it. Joel gave you a forehead kiss, his thick cock buried in you. Sometimes Frankie would slide his hand up to your clit, rubbing it lightly, and your pussy would contract on Joel's cock, making him groan. Their mouths and hands were brushing your skin constantly. 

They took turns between your legs, drawing two new orgasms out of you. Seeing them, feeling them fucking you, one then the other, was turning you on desperately and your pussy was weeping. When one of them was kissing you, searching for your tongue with his, the other was kissing your neck, your cheek, sucking a nipple. You loved feeling their mouths on you at the same time.

They fucked you, one then the other, and they never seemed to get tired, filling your pussy perfectly each in their own way. Until you wanted more, and needed more.

“More? Tell us what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want you both…at the same time.”

“Oh, baby. You want our two cocks filling your two holes?” said Frankie, his cock buried in your cunt.

“Yeah, I’d like to try…”

“It’s ok, baby. We’ll go slow.”

“Yeah. Frankie?”

Frankie nodded, pulling out of you. 

“Get on me, sweetheart.”

Joel lay on his back and you straddled him, grabbing his cock and sinking on it. You brushed his cheek and kissed him, before pressing your chest against his, giving free access to Frankie.

He spread your buttocks, your ring was glistening by the wetness that had been flowing there continuously. He passed his thumb slowly, lingering very lightly over it, as you rolled your pelvis slowly towards Joel. Then Frankie leaned down and started to lick it, pointing his tongue against your tight muscle. His hands now gripping your ass, he softened it under the tip of his tongue. Sometimes dropping his saliva on it, and lightly pushing his thumb in. Then a little deeper. He did it patiently, taking his time to prepare you. He was feeling his cock twitching. Your head resting on Joel's shoulder, you were moaning continuously, overwhelmed by the cock in your pussy, and the tongue opening you little by little. They were so hot, they took care of you so well since the start of the evening at the Lagoon. Attentive to your desires, to your reactions. Slightly changing the pace or position depending on your respiration, the pressure of your hands.

Eventually, Frankie pulled away. “You still want it, baby?”

“Yes, yes. Just…go slow, please, Frankie.”

“Of course. Lemme wet my cock in her pussy a little, Joel”, he asked. You pulled away from Joel slightly and he pulled out, his cock rubbing against your clit. Frankie pushed his cock easily in your dripping pussy, fucking it with one hand on your hip, and his thumb on your ass. Joel placed his hand on your neck, his forehead against yours, and murmured “you gonna take us both, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, yeah…Yeah, I’m gonna take you both, oh my god I can’t believe it’s happening…”

Franck grabbed his cock in his hand, and positioned it against your ring.

“Kiss me, sweetheart”, Joel muttured, stroking your hair. You looked up at him, his hands cupping your cheeks before coming to press his lips to yours. Quickly, his tongue sought yours, just as Frankie pushed in. You felt the muscle resisting at first, then gradually giving up. You whined in Joel’s mouth, his tongue never stopping brushing yours. You knew he wanted to make you forget the pain. Then he nibbled one of your lips, before licking it. Kissing you again. Until Frankie bottomed out, his balls against Joel's cock. He didn't stay buried and pulled back as slowly, before thrusting in again.

“Oh, fuck. Baby…it’s so good, fuck…”

“I can feel your cock Frankie, damn…are you ok, sweetheart?”

You nodded, unable to speak. Overwhelmed by all these emotions you were feeling. Your body was in the middle of theirs, and you felt fulfilled. Their hands were all over your upper body. Frankie’s mouth placed a thousand kisses on your shoulder blades and the back of your neck. Joel's hands caressed your breasts, your ass, your thighs. You heard them grunt and moan, in turn or together. You felt a new orgasm building, from rubbing your clit against Joel's lower abdomen.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come”, you whined.

“Come on baby, come again. Fuck, your ass is so good, baby.”

“Come on our cocks, sweetheart. Then we’ll fill you up. We’ll fill that pussy and that ass.”

“Oh fuck”, you whimpered, coming on their cocks, clenching them. You wondered if you hadn’t fainted, for a moment. 

You heard Frankie growling, and Joel calling you a “good girl”, just before he pulsed as deep as possible in you, followed by Frankie. 

You all froze, panting. Catching your breath. Then Frankie pulled back, placing one last kiss on your back. You pulled away from Joel after kissing him, and you lay against him. Frankie lay against you on the other side, spooning you, his hand on your hip. Their cum flowing from both of your sore holes.

You slept there, sometimes waking up during the night, feeling their bodies against yours or their arms around you. Snuggling against one of them then the other. 

When the rays of the sun woke the three of you and Frankie opened the van door, you had a direct view of the ocean. Its color was perfect. The most beautiful blue. And also these pastel, pink colors of the sky, at dawn. 

You spent the day with them. You surfed, took photos. Frankie’s freshly tattooed forearm with the word “adventure.” You looked at them so many times during that day. And every time your eyes met, you all blushed and giggled, thinking about the night you had spent.

You returned to the Lagoon, and didn't leave them until they finally gave up on the idea of going all the way to Southern California. They called you “our girl”. Their hands, tongues and cocks roaming every inch of your body, just as yours on theirs. They stayed with you until they had to return to Texas.

The day before, Frankie went to get another tattoo. Joel told you Frankie always got one at every place they visit, a tattoo of the best thing there. He showed it to you when he came back: a surfboard with your name on it. You hugged him so tight that he could barely breathe and couldn’t stop laughing, squeezed by your arms.

At the airport, they held you until the last minute. And your heart sank when they left.

A few months later, you were sitting at the same airport. Ready to board for Austin. So that they, in turn, could introduce you to their lives.

You looked at the sun through the large windows of the airport, and smiled. Life offers good surprises sometimes. Yours was Joel and Frankie.

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 1

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Words Count: 2,143

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Chp 1, Chp 2 ,-

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

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

The clink of the spoon against the teacup echoed in the room. Your father, Tom, stared down at the tea, trying to keep his composure, but his heart ached for you.

He looked up at you sitting across from him. You could see the worry in his eyes, yet he seemed more concerned about you thinking he needed support, when it was supposed to be the other way around.

“Eat the cookies. You need to eat. You’ve lost a lot of weight,” Tom said, pushing the plate of cookies closer to you. His voice was gentle but firm.

The cold plate touched your skin, jolting you back to reality. You couldn’t believe that you had once promised never to come back home. Your father looked so much older than the last time you saw him, seven years ago.

As you watched him, you could see the lines on his face, the graying hair, the tiredness in his eyes. He looked fragile, contrasting to the robust and indifferent man you remembered.

He used to be so distant and reserved, his eyes always seeming to look through you rather than at you. His mind was always elsewhere, consumed by his work. You remember feeling invisible as if you were never a priority in his life.

He doesn’t know that you were an outcast and bullied the whole time you grew up in this town. It was all because of his job and the house you lived in.

Flashback Starts

In this town, there was only one mortician—your dad. And the funeral home was connected to your house.

Kids your age made fun of you relentlessly. They called your father the angel of death and labeled your home as hell. The bullying started early and only intensified as you got older. By high school, it felt like there was no escape.

But then, a glimmer of hope arrived when a new kid from the city transferred to your school.

His name was Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey. He was sent to this small-town school because he was a troublemaker. The principal asked you to help Ransom, hoping you could help him.

At first, it was tough. Ransom was resistant, and his rough exterior matched the rumors about him. But you stayed patient and persistent.

Over time, Ransom began to open up to you. His academic performance started to improve, and slowly, a bond formed between you.

Because of Ransom’s improvement, you met his family for the first time. It turned out that Drysdale was a mighty name. His family owned a big bank.

This was the turning point. Ransom introduced you to his grandfather, Harlan Drysdale. “Grandpa, my friend here is a genius. She’s the one who solved the issues you’ve been stressing about. I just showed it to her to ask her opinion, and she solved it.”

Harlan, the patriarch of the company, exuded a charisma you had never seen before. He looked at you with a mix of curiosity and respect.

You felt nervous, your hands trembling slightly as you stood there. Harlan’s presence was intimidating, but there was a kindness in his eyes that put you at ease.

“Is that so?” Harlan said, a smile spreading across his face. “I’d like to hear more about this solution of yours.”

Ransom beamed with pride as he gestured for you to explain. You took a deep breath and started to talk about your idea, feeling a strange sense of confidence growing inside you. Harlan listened intently, nodding along, his expression thoughtful.

When you finished, Harlan leaned back in his chair, clearly impressed. “You have a remarkable mind,” he said. “Ransom is lucky to have you as a friend.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt seen and appreciated. You glanced at Ransom, who gave you an encouraging nod.

Meeting Harlan and the Drysdale family marked the beginning of a new chapter. You were no longer just the mortician’s kid. You were someone with potential, someone who could make a difference.

The years of bullying and isolation started to feel like a distant memory, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and possibility.

He looked at you and slowly nodded. “For a high school student to solve a credit issue is amazing. I’m glad my grandson found a hidden talent.”

Your heart felt warm. You had never received such a compliment in your life.

“You will be a valuable asset in the future. Dear, are you interested in working with me?” Harlan asked.

“Yes, sir!” you replied quickly.

This was your golden ticket to leaving this town, having a better life, and succeeding.

After graduating high school, you packed your bags, said goodbye to your dad, and jumped into Ransom's car. As the car started moving, you didn’t glance back even once.

You had made your decision to leave everything behind.

You received a scholarship for college from the Drysdale charity, supported by a glowing recommendation letter from Harlan himself. You studied hard, like a person possessed, determined to graduate quickly and start working at the Drysdale company.

You graduated in two years and fulfilled your promise to work with Harlan. You gave it your all, becoming a workaholic to prove yourself.

Your hard work paid off, and you made a name for yourself in the finance world. They called you the “female Midas” because every company's stock you bought saw its price soar.

Harlan was proud of you; you could see it in his eyes.

Then everything changed after Harlan died.

The company's business structure changed too, with Ransom in charge. You tried to talk to him, but he didn’t listen.

One day, the FBI raided your office and accused you of insider trading. You hadn’t done it, but the accusation hit hard. Even without proof, you lost friends, and your trading and financial licenses were revoked.

You called Ransom, but he didn’t pick up. You tried contacting the other Drysdales, but nobody wanted to help.

You had spent seven years celebrating Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas with them, but they still hadn’t accepted you.

You had poured your sweat, blood, and tears into this company, only to be thrown away. After everything, they still hadn’t accepted you. The way they made you feel like family, only to discard you, was a sick joke.

Even a wolf would accept a dog into its pack.

You sat alone in your empty apartment, your hands trembling with anger and betrayal. The silence was deafening, starkly contrasting to the lively gatherings you once shared with the Drysdales. The warmth you once felt from their acceptance had turned cold and hollow.

You looked at the framed photo on your desk, a picture of you and Harlan on the day you graduated. His proud smile felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the harsh reality of your present.

You picked up your phone one last time, scrolling through the countless unanswered messages to Ransom and the Drysdales. Each one felt like a dagger, a reminder of the trust and loyalty you had given, only to be met with silence and abandonment.

You have lost everything. The court has taken your apartment, your car, and blocked your bank account until the investigation is done.

You feel ashamed and don’t have any close friends to turn to.

Your last hope is your hometown. With your small amount of cash, you pack your laptop and a few outfits and take the last train home.

When you call your dad, his voice sounds uncertain when he hears you’re coming home and ask if he can pick you up.

It’s late at night when you arrive. It’s just you and your dad. You’re grateful no one else is around to see you.

Tom looks nervous. He tries to ask you on the car ride home, “Did something happen?”

You close your eyes and lean your head against the window. “I’m tired. I’ll tell you tomorrow morning.”

“Ah. Right. You must be tired,” Tom says, his voice shaky.

The silence in the car is heavy, filled with unspoken words. Tom glances at you occasionally, his worry evident in the rearview mirror. You can feel the weight of his concern, but you can’t bring yourself to talk about it yet.

When you finally pull up to the house, it looks the same as when you left. The familiarity is both comforting and painful. Tom helps you with your bags, his hands trembling slightly.

You only brought one bag, but he wanted to carry it, as if carrying your burden. He could feel that you were going through something.

Inside, the house is quiet. You head straight to your old room, which hasn’t changed much. The sight of it brings a lump to your throat.

You drop your bags and sit on the edge of the bed, feeling exhausted and defeated.

Tom lingers in the doorway, unsure of what to do. “If you need anything, just let me know,” he says softly.

“Thanks, Dad,” you reply, managing a weak smile. He nods and gently closes the door, leaving you with your thoughts. The weight of your situation presses down on you, but at least here, in this small room, you feel a glimmer of safety.

Flashback End

*******

The next morning, you woke up with no desire to move on. But seeing your dad already waiting for you, you couldn’t make him wait for an answer.

So you told him about the struggle you're facing right now.

Tom wasn’t ready for this. He thought you returned because your heart was broken by Ransom or you missed home. Or, you missed him.

After hearing every word that came out of your mouth, he couldn’t believe it. His only daughter had been betrayed like this.

“I need to stay here for a while,” you said. You would stay until you heard from the court. You had sent them evidence proving your innocence.

"Why did you say that like you're asking for permission? This is your home," Tom replied. He didn’t care if you were a criminal or a murderer. If you needed a place to hide, he would provide it for you.

"Thanks, Dad," you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Then, there was a knock on the door.

'Knock. Knock.'

You and Tom looked at the door. Only he stood up. It seemed like he was already expecting someone.

He opened the door. "You're here early," he said.

You sipped your tea, assuming the newcomer was just another guest of your dad's.

"Nothing ever goes wrong when you do things early," the voice said cheerfully and friendly.

You almost choked on your tea. The voice sounded all too familiar, and you prayed it wasn't who you thought it was.

"Thanks. I'll meet you at the morgue in 5 minutes," said Tom as he moved to close the door.

"Are you having a guest?" the person asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Tom replied, his voice a little tense.

"Why are you nervous? Do you have a special friend?" The teasing tone drew closer.

You closed your eyes and clenched your fists. You knew your dad, short and not as physically imposing, wouldn't be able to stop the tall, athletic man approaching.

"Y/N?" the voice said, confirming your worst fears.

You opened your eyes and saw the new guest. Locking gazes with him, you felt a surge of apprehension and dread. He was Bucky Barnes, the embodiment of your past torment.

You, the quiet, bookish nerd, and he, the charismatic, popular guy—Bucky represented everything you had once dreaded in high school. His group of friends constantly tormented you.

Crossing your arms tightly, you couldn't mask the edge in your voice. "What is he doing here?"

Tom's hesitant introduction only added fuel to the fire. "He's my apprentice," he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"What does that mean?" you asked, your tone sharp.

Tom cleared his throat nervously. "Um, well... after I retire, I'll be passing the business on to Bucky."

You raised your eyebrows, not saying anything. Tom seemed nervous, perhaps worried that you were angry he hadn’t told you about this sooner.

Meanwhile, Bucky still looked stunned to see you standing there.

Leaning forward, you couldn't contain the resentment in your voice. "Him? Are you sure? He and his group made a mockery of this business every single day, taunting me whenever I set foot in school!"

The room fell silent, the tension thickening with each passing moment.

You had hoped to find refuge here, but now you were having second thoughts. The person who had bullied you was now working with your father and set to inherit the business. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[canthelpit0]

Skinny

Pairing: bf!Chris sturniolo x Reader

Wordcount: 700

Summary: you talk to your boyfriend about the internet (literally just the song skinny, by Billie Eilish)

Warnings: really short, angst(?), body image, the internet, hurt/comfort (?), direct quotes, idfk

(Litterally wrote this during a 1h car trip, so it’s rlly short. I was listening to the song while writing this. Hope you guys like it tho <3)

I recently met the triplets in LA. We quickly became friends, but I always felt drawn to Chris the most.

Sure they’re all considerably hot, but there was just something about Chris that made me feel something..

Turns out I wasn’t the only one that felt it, and soon enough Chris confessed to me. Wich meant a lot, considering he has commitment issues, but he was willing to commit… for me?

We dated for a while until I realized,

I fell in love for the first time.

I may only be 20, but those 20 years felt so eternally long. Chris was everything I’d been waiting for all my life, being the hopeless romantic.

I started to go to the gym more often, and eat healthier. Not for any other reason then, I was happy.

I also started to notice that Chris’ Pepsi habits got better, and he started to eat healthier as well.

We were talking one day, both of us sitting on opposite sides of Chris’ bed.

“People say I look happy, just because I got skinny.” I sigh.

The only reason why I look happier is because I have a working healthy relationship, because I’m in love. Not because my body changed.

Chris tilts his head to the side his eyes slightly furrowed as if asking me if I’m serious.

But the ‘old’ me was still me. Maybe even the real me, my actual personality when I’m on my own, And I think she is pretty.

I never really had body image issues. I never struggled with eating.

I got famous pretty young, like 17 or so. And back then I was a kid, of corse I liked to eat. I wasn’t even that big really. I was just a kid, I didn’t care about it too much.

I’m not magically happier than I was before. I still cry.

“People say I’m acting my age now.” I sigh. “Am I already on the way out, am I ‘falling off’?”

Chris tilts his head not saying anything just trying to process my words. As if my words are outlandish to him.

“I feel like a bird in a cage, you know. With all these expectations and rumors.” I sigh softly. All these things have been bugging me for a while.

“I’m sorry.” He looks at me with not pitty but understanding. “You were my secret,” when we started dating we hadn’t told the internet. “- and I didn’t get to keep it”

But like couples do we would go out on dates. With both of us being touchy people, PDA was big. But a random fan took a picture of us kissing and it spread like wildfire.

I sigh heavily at the memories. How betrayed I had felt by those so called fans looking into my business.

“The internet is hungry for the meanest kind of funny, and somebody’s gotta feed it.” I purse my lips closing my eyes briefly.

“I suppose that’s true” Chris breaths out his eyes locked on mine.

“People really think suddenly all my problems are gone and I’m all happy, not because I’m in a healthy and stable relationship but because i got skinny.” I huff working myself up, and getting angrier and angrier at something that seems like nothing.

“Do you still cry?” I ask rhetorically, my previous breathy and small voice now loud and clear. “I mean I do.” I reply to my own question.

I look at my boyfriend and the way he looks back at me with such understanding.

We look at each other in silence. “I love you. And I’ve loved you for so long. And that’s not going to change.”

Chris says firmly a small gentle smile forming on his lips. Chris opens his arms waiting for me to come to him.

I’m not upset per se, it’s just annoying seeing people comment on my body and happiness and whatnot. It’s none of their business.

I’m a content creator. I didn’t ask for them to criticize me.

I sit up shuffling over to Chris. I let myself fall into his embrace.

But in Chris’, the love of my life’s arms, like this, it doesn’t matter anyway.

Masterlist

A/N: hope you guys like this style of writing. If h goys want to be on the taglist comment. Asks & requests are open 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life , @h3arts4harry , @whosthislyssbitch , @jamiesturniolo , @sturniololover-09 , @zayyluvz , @sturnzsblog

[esta-elavaris]

Prologue [771 words]

Jane Eyre inspired Aemond Targaryen fic (except there's no wife in the attic - only Vizzy T and his miniatures) -- I've been meaning to write this for ages and now with the new season around the corner my brain said it is time.

It's not on AO3 for now but I do have a whole load of other fics over there!

Let me know if you wanna be tagged when I update this 💜

Brambles tore through her sleeves, and then her arms, as Jeyne tumbled to the ground. The shadow above took an impossibly long while to pass – but Vhagar was the largest dragon living, and the fear that seized her drew out the seconds into eternities. Was it that same fear, she wondered, that had her thinking she could even hear her name, cried out into the wind? It had to be. He had no cause to call for her that way…nor at all. The last time he’d spoken to her – the last time she knew for a fact that she’d heard his voice – he made that more than clear.

“What did you expect? That we’d marry? That you’d carry my heirs? You? A servant? One of your birth would hardly be fit to have my bastards, should I have been so foolish as to spawn any.”

He hadn’t looked at her, as he said it. No, his eye had been fixed steadily – coldly – on the wall behind her head. That fact had given her the strength to ask what she did.

“Why are you saying this? Why are you talking like this, Aemond? I thought…you said…you don’t mean-”

At that, he had looked at her, violet eye steely, wide with outrage that she would dare disagree with him.

“You forget yourself,” he’d sneered. “Along with how one of your birth should refer to a prince.”

And there had been such disdain in his face, so much that it seeped into his voice, that her blood ran cold and she felt sick to her stomach, blinking hard against the tears that stung her eyes. That look left her without doubt as to what she was hearing. Most of all, it left her mortified that she was even surprised.

Jeyne had not been able to feel her legs as she sank into a curtsey and managed to force out a strained, reedy forgive me, your grace, her eyes downcast.

“You’re dismissed. I’m sure my sister can find some use for you – I myself cannot.”

That was it. Those were the last words Prince Aemond Targaryen had spoken to her. The last ones he would ever speak to her. Nothing within them could leave any room for misunderstanding, even had Jeyne been the fool he’d treated her as. And while she was much – obscure, plain, and little, all at once – she was no halfwit. A halfwit would have remained in the Red Keep thereafter.

No, by now the Princess Helaena would have found her parting letter, and if any were looking for her, they’d look to the Kingsroad – northwards, where she’d come from, long before she was called to King’s Landing. Not among the brambles, aimless through a wilderness that would lead to either the Reach, or to death. She cared not which. But it had been days, now, with water only when luck graced her, and food not at all. It was becoming clear what possibility was the more likely.

Senses heightened by hunger, the cold of the evening bit at her fingers as she dug them into the dirt as if clinging to the ground would help her further escape notice. It gave her something, anything, to cling to, at least. And Vhagar was as like to spot a mouse as she was to spot her, all the way up there.

I myself cannot…

You forget yourself…

What did you expect?

The three parts that had hurt the most to hear – the ones that drove the blade deeper and deeper into her chest until it threatened to pierce through to her back – were the ones that she replayed in her head, over and over. It was a willing exercise, not quite because she hoped that repeating them would remove their edge, but because he’d been right. What had she expected? To anticipate it ending any way other than precisely how it had ended was the height of stupidity.

Perhaps she was a halfwit, after all.

A long while had passed, and the rush of Vhagar’s wings was well out of earshot, when it even occurred to her that she should move. She could no longer feel the cold – a fact that she dully acknowledged was dangerous in the back of her mind, but could find little energy to care about.

She would move in a moment. A few minutes. She just needed to collect herself first –  and to be sure that he was truly gone. That tactic made the most sense. No doubt the feeling would soon return to her limbs, and she could continue.

By the time she heard footfalls drawing near, it didn’t even occur to her to open her eyes.

[sixosix]

hello six!!!💋💋hope ur having a great day so far !!! uhhhh so like i have a request request (??) so in thawed right, can i have their ages and some timestamps????? like how old were they in *this/*that scene. doesnt have to be canon in game tho🥰. cause i just reread thawed(again, the whole thing, i know) and i noticed that my drawings are inconsistent with their age HAHHAHHSHD

mainly when:

when arlecchino took mc in

lyney and lynette first joined the HOH

when mc got burnt

how many years they spent together in the HOH w mc(if u want, you can add how long it took for mc to warm up to lyney)

divorce arc #1(when mc got her vision)

how many years mc spent w rosalie

when aether first met mc

if you cant do it tho, thats fine too🙏🙏🙏this is mainly because i want to draw them as accurate as i possibly canHAHHAHHAHS

(so uhm, for some reason tumblr wont let me send this ask un-anon-ed so uhhhh yeah.)

-akagi (the priest)<33

HELLO AKAGI OUR FAVORITE PRIEST(how do u not get sick of thawed like genuinely LMFAOO i have to reread it all the time when i write a new chapter and i… I CRINGE SO HARD😭) ALS IM SO SORRY FOR REPLYING SO LATE I LIVE YOU

ngl i was so vague w their ages on purpose because i am so incredibly lazy but since the series is nearly ending and youre asking me, ill do my best!

arlecchino took in mc when she was around 8 yrs old lets say!!

lyney and lynette joined HoH when they were around 10? (assuming theyre 20+ now, and they met Cesar 10 years ago canonically)

but this is assuming they met cesar around the same time they joined HoH because Cesar mentioned the twins talking about Father

MC got burnt: 12 years old, lets say

MC starts acting strange (intimidated by lyney) around 13 yrs old (aka the same age she left the House)

they spent about 2–3 years being friendly (as friendly as MC can get w lyney anyway!) before it went to shit

and they meet again when lyney/mc are 20–22!! aka their current age for the game

that would mean aether met mc around 20–22, and mc has spent about 7–9-ish years w rosalie

but this is all assuming that lyney got his vision at such a young age! i have a feeling that ingame he actually gets it when hes around 18

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

"I'll see you guys later!" Eddie calls, his hips wiggling as he fake jogs to the door. Steve holds his hand up after him, Robin waves her whole arm at him, not looking away from the stove. Steve stares after him as he disappears, he hears the door open and click closed.

"You've got that dopey look on your face again." Robin says, crossing her arms and resting against the counter as she watches him. Steve turns to her, avoids her eyes and watches the steam rise from the bowl of Ramen on the countertop.

"Shut up." He grumbles.

"Just sayin. Your eyes get all shiny and your mouth literally hangs open sometimes... it's... ridiculous." She shakes her head but she looks... sad? Steve hates when she looks at him like that.

"Well-" he stops, takes a deep breath. Robin's lip twitches.

"Let it out babe. You'll feel better." She holds her hand out, twitches her fingers encouragingly.

Steve grimaces, runs his hands over his face and then jumps off the stool to his feet.

"It- it- it's just dimples! Dimples across the board Robin! I mean what am I supposed to do with that!?" He groans, his hands flailing at his sides, a habit he'd picked up from both Robin and Eddie.

"You should tell him how you feel maybe?" Robin says, he voice completely calm as she stirs her ramen slowly.

"Can you please stop suggesting that. We've established that's not a viable solution." Steve huffs, hands falling to the countertop on their small island, his shoulders tight.

"Well. No. You established that. I agreed to no such thing." Robin shakes her head, crosses her arms again.

"Steve. It's been three years. We've all lived together. For three years. You've been hopelessly in love with him. Forthree. Fucking. Years."

Steve opens his mouth to defend himself but before he can speak there's a clatter by the door and Eddie comes skidding back into the room.

"You're in love with me!?" He shouts, his eyes wide as they bounce between Robin and Steve.

"I'm out." Robin says, grabbing her bowl gently and walking away.

"Robin!" Steve calls, it sounds more like a whine but he would deny that to his grave.

"Nope." Is all he gets from her as she, uncharacteristically, gracefully dodges his reaching hands and disappears down the all into her room.

Steve turns, his mouth opening, about to apologize or backtrack or maybe cry a little, but instead finds himself with a chestful of Eddie Munson. Eddie's hands tug his hips close and then move nimbly up his sides to rest against his neck.

"Hi." Eddie says, smiling. Steve's eyes move to his cheeks, his dimples, helpless.

"Hi. I can expla- mmfph!" Eddie's lips press to his with a genlte force Steve could only associate with Eddie. His lips are soft, if a little chapped, and warm, moving gently agaisnt his. Steve lets his eyes fall closed and hums into the kiss, wraps his arms around Eddie's waist and holds him close.

"I'm in love with you too." Eddie breathes, pulls back, looks at Steve, his eyes shining with tears.

"I love you too." He breathes again, bumping his nose into Steve's.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, tilts his head and watches as Eddie dramatically clutches his chest with a teasing grimace.

"Yeah." Eddie nods, his nose scrunching. Steve bites his lip, squeezes Eddie's hips until he squirms and then pulls him close again.

"I love you." Steve says, reaching up and tucking Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"You said." Eddie sinks his teeth into his own lip and scrunches his nose again, swaying side to side, moving them both.

"Not to you. And it's nice to say it. Finally." Steve says, smiling as Eddie keeps them swaying slowly.

"Three years is a long time I guess." Eddie nods, slowly, eyes narrowing.

"What? What's that for?" Steve asks, reaching up and moving his finger over the frown lines on Eddie forehead, trailing his finger down his nose as well, making it twitch.

"Nothin just. Three years is a lot." He bites at Steve's hand as he moves it away to rest on Eddie's shoulder, Eddie's eyes move back to his face.

"But six years is longer." He mumbles it, and quickly tucks his face against Steve's neck, hugging him and holding him close.

"Wait what? Six years?" Steve frowns, tries to untangle Eddie from himself, Eddie holds on tighter.

"Eddie!" Steve huffs, manages to untangle himself and look at Eddie, who's red in the face.

"What?" He asks, sounding innocent. Like he hadn't just said what he'd said.

"Six years?" Steve asks. Eddie nods, looks at the floor.

"That was... senior year. My senior year." Steve says slowly, doing the math.

"Yeah. I was there for that." Eddie mumbles.

"I know. I just... you have not been in love with me since senior year." Steve protests, rolling his eyes fondly.

"Okay fine. Maybe not actual love. But I was infatuated. Big time." Eddie admits, rubbing at his neck.

"Dude I was miserable senior year. I had no friends. I got my fuckin heart broken. I mean I was a mess." Steve shook his head again, watched as Eddie nodded in agreement as he spoke.

"I know dude. And I know it probably says something shitty about me but... it was a good look on you." Eddie shrugged, looking sheepish.

"Misery was a good look on me?" Steve propped his hands on his hips. Eddie waves his hand at Steve, groans as he spins in a circle to get his eyes back on Steve.

"Yes man! Sorry. Not in like... ugh. I don't know. You went from pretentious douchebag to sad pretty boy. And you stopped Tommy shithead from shoving my head into a toilet one day and I dunna that sort of changed how I saw you okay?" Eddie's hands flailed, and then he clapped his hands and pointed at Steve.

"And! And and! You didn't even like... seem interested. You just told him to fuck off all nonchalant, and then you were gone, man! And then the next fucking year all that shit happened, and I saw you with the gremlins and I just... fell hard okay?" He shrugged again, rolling his eyes when he saw the grin spreading across Steve's face.

"You sat by my bed in the hospital man. What did you expect? There's only so much my little gay heart can fend off before it goes all soft and gooey." Eddie pouts at him and Steve thinks his heart might burst out of his chest.

"You never said anything." Steve says, takes a step toward Eddie.

"Yeah well. I didn't know you were into guys until very recently and I-" his hands wave at his sides, like he's helpless.

"You what?" Steve pushes, teasing now. Eddie levels him with an unimpressed look and then rolls his eyes.

"I was scared alright? Cuz if I said something, and you didn't feel the same, then I'd have ruined everything. And I don't know if you've notcied this Steve, but I kinda like having you around. And being around you." He makes a face, like it should be obvious.

"And love confessions tend to change things, between people. So I just... didn't say anything." He shrugged again, helpless again. Steve closed the distance between them quickly. Grabbing Eddie's face genlty, holding him as he stares at Steve.

"We are. So. Fucking. Stupid." Steve punctuates each word with a little shake to Eddie's head. The laugh that bursts out of Eddie as he wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him close again fills their apartment like sweet music.

Steve presses kisses anywhere he can reach, along Eddie's shoulder, up his neck, across his cheeks. Eddie finally cups his cheeks and finds Steve's lips with his own.

"Honey I love you. But if you ever call yourself stupid again in my presence we're gonna have a problem you and me." Eddie mumbles, his lips still brushing Steve's as he speaks. Steve snorts and dives face first into Eddie's neck.

"Laugh all you want sweetheart. I'm serious." Eddie assures him.

"I called you stupid too ya know?" Steve sighs into Eddie's shoulder.

"Mhm. I'm allowing that. Currently." Eddie hums, his hand rubbing Steve's back as he clings to him.

"Okay. I won't. But I do really love you." Steve says, pulls back to look at Eddie. His nose scrunches again, that giddy smile back on his face.

"I really love you too." Eddie darts forward, peppers kisses across Steve's cheeks.

"Shit. You're gonna be late." Steve says, glancing at the clock on the microwave. Eddie shrugs one shoulder.

"That's alright. They'll understand. You wanna come?" He asks, squeezing Steve's hips.

"You want me to come? To your dungeon game?" Steve lifts his eyebrows.

"Okay I know you know what it's called. That's not as cute as you think it is." Eddie says. Steve leans closer, his breath ghosting over Eddie's neck makes him shiver.

"Yes it is." Steve whispers, then licks a stripe up Eddie’s cheek, and then promptly pouts when Eddie is unfazed.

"They won't care if I come?" Steve asks, wiping at the wetness he'd left behind.

"Course not. The guys love you. And they'll be fucking ecstatic that I'm not gonna be pinning about you anymore." Eddie winks, slaps Steve's butt as he reaches behind him for his keys sitting on the counter.

"You've been pinning for me?" Steve repeats, teasing, as he grabs his shoes.

"Six. Years. Steven. Yeah, you could say I was pinning." Eddie grabs his bag off the floor as Steve tugs his laces tight.

"Alright alright. But hey," Steve presses himself to Eddie's side as they reach the door.

"They're gonna wish you were still pinning by the time we're done." Steve grabs Eddie's head and presses his lips to Eddie's cheek, hard. Eddie cackles, shoots Steve a wink as he grabs his hand, and tugs him out the door.

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

So I had my dad talking to me about cars today, telling me how I should basically avoid getting any cars except those made by Japanese companies because of how shitty other countries manufacture their cars (mileage and life span)

Do you have any thoughts on this? I don’t know much about cars and I thought of this blog while I was having this conversation so that’s why I send here

Do I have thoughts on this. Do I have thoughts on this. Babygirl (gender neutral) I have thoughts on aspects of cars you wouldn't even conceive of. I have thoughts on aspects of cars that aren't even real. Up the ante, folks! Ask me which cars are most bisexual!

That aside, for my opinion: Italian food is good. But of course, when I eat out in Italy, I don't go to any random place because "this country does this well", because I'm not ordering from a country, or a region, or a city, but from a specific joint - and some of them suck, some dropped or rose in quality, some are exceptionally good/bad with certain things, hell, some serve foreign food and then what's the adage matter now! That's why Yelp doesn't have country reviews.

Much the same, Japanese cars are usually pretty reliable, but Nissan spent the last two decades making a case against that claim (especially with their CVT transmission, a known ticking time bomb they've done fuck all about for years) with the help of whatever's left of the shell of Mitsubishi, and Infiniti is just the luxury brand of Nissan so ditto for it... indeed, another point to make, some cars are just based on, or outright are, cars from other brands. Infinitis are built by Nissan, and usually based on the equivalent Nissans. Except the QX30, which is just a Mercedes GLA - which probably was part of the same deal through which Mercedes got to sell the Nissan Navara as the X Class.

And there's a lot of cross-nationality brand partnerships like that, past and present, like the four-decade-long Mazda/Ford one, or the time Saturn had such a crappy engine they had to get Honda to give them a proper one. And by the way, the guy who posted that? He owns a different Saturn which took 360k miles of bare minimum care like a champ, because reliability can vary wildly within a lineup, and also a Volkswagen that's been a thorn in his side, which definitely wasn't the experience I had with mine, because mine is over twice as old, and a brand can completely change over time too! (You'd think they were run by people or something.)

In fact, reliability changing over time and models is the norm - not as drastically as, say, "older German cars were unstoppable tanks and now they're overly fit-prone electronics messes where everything is costly to buy and dastardly to replace" (which, however, is actually a notable trend), but usually in terms of "in this model, through these production years, this component was overly keen on failing" (as per my Accord post). Part of how Toyota (and by extension its luxury brand Lexus) rightfully earned its reputation of King Reliability is such cases in their production being especially few and far between, and none notable enough to become an automotive meme like Subaru head gasket failures (and no, the Camry dent doesn't count). So, say, Hondas may not be less reliable, just a bit less consistently so (but even there, Honda interiors tend to hold up much better than Toyotas', yadda yadda yay for nuance).

So if you are buying a used car (as you should) it's always important to research for potential common problems (for instance, pre-90s Toyota frames are to rust what the letter X is to Elon Musk) and thoroughly inspect the car, to check that nothing is broken and that it's been properly serviced.

That last part is very important, because reliability is not a tickbox, it's a spectrum, and a function of how a car was built and how it was maintained. Carelessness will kill any car sooner or later. Every car has fluids that will at some point need changing, wear items that will at some point need replacing, and the occasional part failure. Even yours. So even when it comes to your car, keep up with that stuff, or it will eventually catch up to you. (And if regular services would tax your finances, look into how to perform them yourself - you'll find it's a lot easier than you thought, you'll give it a shot and it will be very rewarding and save you a lot of money!)

And also, if a hinge starts squeaking, if something starts sagging, if some trim breaks, if you get a dent or scratch, take care of those too. Not because they make your car work less or worth less, but because they foster an indifference that snowballs into neglect. Working on those little things will keep you feeling like your car is nice and your loving effort is going to keep it nice, dammit - in much the same way as it's important to take care of yourself and your environment for your mental health, to keep yourself feeling like you are making it and with your loving effort you are going to keep making it, dammit.

Links in blue are posts of mine explaining the words in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

[glitteronadumpsterfire]

if you still do these 48 + vinikki pls pls pls i’ll love you forever

“So…” began the butler, as he extracted the sword out of its scabbard, making the sunlight bounce on the sharp blade, “shall we begin your training, Vincent?”

Vincent pulled out his weapon as well. “That’s master Wharton to you now, Nicholas.” The young man snickered, as he gripped the hilt with both hands. A flash of rage and determination lit up his hazel eyes as he slowly but confidently made his way towards his servant, who began walking forward too.

As much as Nicholas saw Vincent's birth and always took good care of him, they despised each other. Well, at least Vincent hated Nicholas, that’s for sure. There was something about the way the butler treated him like a child, despite being well over that phase of his life, that got on Vincent’s nerves.

But today, the day of his 21st birthday, would’ve been the day Vincent showed him, and everyone else, what he’s made of, he would’ve shown the man he had become.

“Oh come on, Vince,” grinned the older man, raising his sword. “we’re friends by now, aren’t we?”

“No, we’re not.” Responded the blond nobleman, through gritted teeth. The nobleman tried to stay calm, to not raise his voice, to not let his adversary win. Nicholas was found by his family when he was still a hungry urchin living in the London slums, so who the hell did he think he was? That day, Vincent thought, his father should’ve minded his business.

They stopped a few inches from each other, with their blades touching, in a guarding position.

“May the best of us win.” Said the butler, flashing his teeth, his green eyes glistening with calm confidence.

“En garde, old bastard.”

The metal clangors quickly followed one another. Whenever Vincent tried to strike, Nicholas was ready to deflect his attacks, almost as if he could predict Vincent’s every move. Slash, slash, lunge. Vincent only managed to cut a strand of the older man’s jet-black hair. Their swords crossed, the blades slipping, and now it was a matter of who was going to get the best of the other. Vince was losing his balance, but he refused to give up. With an effort and a scream of rage, the nobleman pushed away his adversary, making him almost trip on his own feet. Almost. But Vincent had already let his guard down, not having the time to react when Nicholas sweeped his blade, leaving a thin, bloody gash on the young man’s cheek. Vincent held back the hiss of pain.

“Oh, that’s gonna leave a nasty mark!” Snickered the butler.

Vincent decided to ignore him, determined to not get distracted by Nicholas’s babbling. The fact that he got hit even once, it was already one too many. He managed to deflect another blow, but barely. Their swords crossed again, but this time Vincent lost his balance and fell over, making him lose the grip of his weapon.

“Well, well, well.” The butler pointed his sword at the nobleman’s neck. “Rule number one: never let your guard down.”

“Are you gonna kill me…?” Muttered the blond, raising his head ever so slightly, in order to take a glimpse of Nicholas’s face.

The other let out air of his nose in amusement. “It would be very hard to explain your disappearance to your family.” He diverted his armed hand away from the young man, and reached out with the other, to help Vincent get up.

“Right…” said Vincent, a bit hesitant at first to accept his help. “The butler is always the prime suspect.”

The older man let out a hoarse laugh. “Wait here. I’ll go grab some bandages.”

---

“How was I?” Asked Vincent. He didn't know why he wanted to seek Nicholas's approval, yet that question slipped out of his mouth.

“Not bad.” Said the other, concentrating on dabbing the wound with a bandage. "Not bad at all for your first time.”

The blond frowned, both from physical and emotional pain. “I feel like you’re lying to me.”

“I would never. " Responded the butler, calmly. "I mean it.”

"One day I'll be able to defeat you, you'll see." Mumbled the young man. "Then you're finally going to respect me."

Nicholas stopped what he was doing to look at his young master in the eyes. He smiled, thinking that Vincent was just like his father. "Here's the thing," he began, "respect is not given unconditionally, it is earned." He then put a hand on Vincent's shoulder. “This is my gift for you for today: a humble piece of advice. Happy birthday, master Wharton.”

Put That Guy in a SituationTM Ask Game/Prompt!

[babsvibes]

for the rivals / enemies prompts…and ONLY if you want to….louigan, #3?? 👀 again NO pressure…..🫡

#3: taking care of the other while one is unconscious

How about established relationship domestic fluff for a Neighbors AU piece? Technically, this only works for the prompt because Louise falls asleep at the end, but let’s pretend yeah? I also tried to cover @sailoreuterpe’s suggestion of insults as a love language (because even if it’s not her favorite trope, Nikki knows her audience lmao)

At first, she thought the knocking emanated from a terribly annoying dream, but with every second of blooming consciousness Louise realized it was no figment of her imagination.

She groaned, eyes peeling open slowly then blinking at the new morning. The sheets rustled to the left of her. Glancing at Logan, whose furrowed eyebrows nearly took over his face, she snickered.

“People pretending to sleep don’t usually look that angry.”

“‘S not my fault,” he grumbled. “It’s been going for like… a million minutes.”

“So what time does that make it?” Louise asked, figuring he had been on his phone already.

“Seven.”

Her eyes snapped out of their half-lidded state. “In the morning?! Who the hell is knocking on our door at seven in the morning?”

“It’s the first Saturday in December. Who do you think?” Logan, still refusing to open his eyes, shuffled closer and pulled at her waist. She sunk into him, enjoying being spooned as he kissed her neck in that perfectly lazy way reserved only for weekend mornings.

And another fucking knock rang out.

Louise balled up her fist and punched her pillow.

“Go make it stop,” she demanded.

She felt his “Nmn” rumble from his chest and down her back.

“Mmhmm,” she replied.

“NMnh.”

“MMhmm.”

“Nn” “Mm” “nnNNn” “mMmMm”

When they both hummed the same note over each other to see who would last longer, Louise cracked first, unable to resist snorting at the absurdity. Logan followed suit.

“I think that means you lost, shortstack. Go tell off Annie.” She didn’t move, so he continued. “You’re just so much scarier than I am.”

“Keep talking.”

“And so brave and cutthroat and beautiful-”

“Alright alright, enough of that,” Louise sighed. “I’ll go. Just move back. I can’t get out of bed if you’re wrapped around me like this.”

Logan didn’t budge. Shuffling, scooting, and otherwise wiggling to freedom proved fruitless.

“Seems like… maybe you don’t want me to get out of bed?”

Before he could respond, the knocking resumed. He sighed against her neck, giving in and loosening his grip.

“Every day I am in awe of your strength and sacrifice,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Logan replied by poking her one ticklish spot. With an involuntary laugh, she moved away and pointed at him menacingly. The warning was wasted as he still hadn’t opened his eyes.

Gathering up all of her courage and the edge of the covers, Louise heaved herself up only to meet Jack Frost’s frozen testicles slapping her in the face. She yelled and buried herself back under the blankets. “Nope, no, absolutely not. Too cold.”

Annie, or at least who they assumed was their apartment manager here to drag them into holiday shenanigans, continued to relentlessly knock.

Logan sniffed. “Is that… is she knocking Carol of the Bells?”

“Carol of the Nine Hells more like,” Louise grumbled, hiding under her pillow.

“She’s just going to keep at it. Remember that time she needed Victor to sign a release form?”

“She camped outside for four days.” With a sigh, she emerged partially from her cocoon. “Okay, tell you what. How about we go together? That way we can suffer as one.”

It was Logan’s turn to sigh, but he finally cracked his eyes open. Morning had a way of making an honest man out of liars, and she watched him melt at the sight of her, genuine and soft. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, then he leaned in. She met him halfway for a quick kiss. When they broke apart, he sighed again.

“Fiiiine. On the count of three?”

“Works for me.”

“One.” “Two.” “Three.”

Logan all but fell out of bed, joints popping as though arthritis would be killing him in the next couple of hours. He stretched to the sound of more popping, blinked the sleep from his eyes, and looked back at her.

Louise had failed to move and, if possible, snuggled even deeper into the mattress.

“You witch,” he accused, grabbing a pillow and hitting at the general area of her butt. “You tricked me.”

“This isn’t the first or last time; you knew what you were getting into, idiot. Now go get rid of Annie.”

“Ugh, fine. But when I get back I want to be the little spoon.”

Louise hummed in acquiesce, shuffling the blankets so there was a spot for him to slip back into. When she finished and settled in, the only visible parts of her were a mess of black hair and the tiniest hint of a pout.

As he left their bedroom, Logan wondered how he was supposed to scare away anyone with the dopey smile he couldn’t drop.

[dollhousemary]

“11.01.83”—I.B. for mary winchester

[tvrningout]

staring at my hands and wondering if i haven't just been burned out for ages actually

[promptfighter]

Digimon frontier prompt: Tommy playing with some Digimon children as Kumamon. The kids needed some time to have fun as Digimon without having to be fighting.

Playdate at the school

Why they were back at the school Izumi and Junpei had saved they couldn’t figure out, but back at it they were. Junpei and Izumi found Togemon and quickly fell into an excited discussion with her, with some of the kids she was taking care of joining in. Bokomon found a soft spot in the grass and sat down, pulled out his history book and read out loud to a few of the kids who wanted to listen. History wasn’t everyone’s big interest though. At least not Tomoki’s, and he saw a few of the kids roll their eyes and shuffle away to play instead. Tomoki followed them, and then Takuya showed up with a football he had found near the building. One minute later the group had split into two groups, Tomoki in one and Takuya in the other. Football. Kouji shook his head when he saw it and left, sat down at the back of the building were Neemon had already taken cover and fallen asleep.

Tomoki laughed where he was running after the ball. This was nice. Fun. Like a normal day, playing games with friends and enjoying the freedom after school. Even if the friends this time happened to be heads with tails bouncing on the ground.

...The digital world was weird when he stopped to think about it. So he didn’t.

The sky was free from clouds and the sun shone bright and hot over them. It traveled quickly across the sky, reaching noon way too soon in Tomoki’s opinion. Everyone was getting warm. He saw Izumi sit down in the shade, where Bokomon and their group of kids had already retreated to. He could hear her talk, maybe she was telling them stories from the human world. Junpei was sitting in the doorway, showing off his tricks to Upamon and Yaamon. Kouji and Neemon were probably still hiding behind the school.

Tomoki stopped running, put his hands against his knees and crouched. He was so hot. Absolutely melting. Sweat ran down the side of his face. Takuya stopped as well, dried the sweat of his forehead. Tomoki almost considered suggesting a short break. For lunch or something.

One of the kids, Kapurimon, tackled Takuya, took the ball from him. The other laughed, ran after him, and the game continued. But the heat from the sun was getting to them, they moved slower, missed more shots.

Wait. The heat. Tomoki stopped, looked towards the sun. He could do something about that! He was the warrior of ice! He grabbed his digivice.

”Wait, I’ll show you all something cool.”

Digicode appeared around his hand. He dragged his digivice over it, scanned the code.

”Spirit Evolution!”

Data pulled at his body, changed it. Made it rounder, softer, squishier. The world around him felt hotter, but he was cold, he was winter.

”Chackmon!”

The kids stared at him, eyes wide. Chackmon grinned, put his hands at his sides and stretched his back.

”Betcha never saw anything like that before, ey?” Chackmon asked.

Yaamon rolled their eyes.

”Tsunomon also evolved, you’re nothing special.”

Chackmon fell over. Brutally murdered by a baby. Junpei stopped in the middle of whatever trick he had been doing and looked around.

”Where is Tsunomon? I was hoping to see him.”

”He left”, Togemon said.

She stood up and started herding the kids towards the building again. Some of them snuck away when she looked at Junpei. Junpei’s shoulders fell.

”No one stays here for long after they’ve digivolved”, Togemon continued. ”The school’s too small for them.”

”Aww…”

Izumi looked up from Bokomon’s book, tilted her head. Bokomon grabbed the book and put it back in their haramaki.

”It makes sense”, Izumi said. ”Just like how we move to different schools when we age. Imagine being stuck in kindergarden until you’re 18 and need to get a job.”

Takuya kicked the football into one of the goals they had put up. It hit a tree and flew back into the playing field.

”When I’m 18 I’m already famous and living in Italy, playing football for the national team”, Takuya said.

Junpei turned towards him while putting the handkerchiefs back into his pockets.

”Why not Japan?” Junpei asked.

Chackmon sat up again, looked between them. This hadn’t quite gone to plan. He grabbed his snowball canon, looked at it instead. Upamon and Motimon bounced closer to him, probably wondering what it was. Takuya put a foot on the ball and grinned.

”Because Italy has the best football players in the world and I will be the best of them all.”

”You’re an idiot”, Kouji said.

Takuya whipped around, glared at Kouji, who had probably gotten attracted by the discussion.

”Why don’t you say that to my face?!”

”Fine.”

Kouji walked over and crossed his arms over his chest. The whole situation was so… normal.

”You’re an idiot”, Kouji said.

Chackmon pelted him with a snowball. The kids laughed around them and Chackmon fired another snowball on Kouji. Takuya laughed as well. Kouji shivered, turned around and glared at Chackmon instead. Chackmon jumped back onto his feet, snow fell around him. The air felt a lot cooler. Everyone laughed around him, and Chackmon felt envigorated. He fired a snowball at Takuya, hit his shoulder. Takuya laughed, grabbed some snow from the ground and threw a ball right back at Chackmon, almost hit his hat off.

The kids jumped in excitement. Kouji grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it straight down Takuya’s t-shirt. A shiver ran through Takuya’s body and Chackmon laughed. Got on his skiis, snowball gun in hand. He went circles around the group, fired at all of them. Snow spread as he moved. The kids scooped it up with their tails, tried to throw it back and hit Chackmon. But Chackmon was quick on his skiis and easily slalomed between the balls, fired back when he had a shot. Junpei and Izumi joined the snowball fight as well. Everyone against Chackmon.

Perhaps it was a bit unfair. They didn’t have much of a chance against the warrior of ice.

The kids gathered up a bunch of snowballs, threw them into the air. Nyaromon jumped after them, spun around in the air.

”Galactica magnum tail!” they yelled.

More balls than Chackmon could evade flew through the air. Knocked him off his skiis and buried him. He laughed.

”Victory!” the kids yelled around him.

They jumped in joy. Chackmon sat up, shook the snow off himself. He was ready for another round. Izumi laughed, then leaned down and started rolling a bigger snowball. Kouji dusted snow off himself and joined her. Nyaromon looked at them.

”What are we doing now?” they asked.

Izumi smiled.

”A snowmon”, she said.

Nyaromon tilted to the side, their tail raised slightly. Chackmon got up on his feet and stepped closer.

”What’s a snowmon?” Nyaromon asked.

Izumi looked towards the sky, thought for a few seconds. The kids bounced closer as well.

”It’s a digimon made from snow”, Izumi explain.

Chackmon grinned at that, posed infront of them. If anyone was a snowmon…

”You’ve got the perfect model here!” he said.

Junpei shoved him over with a laugh. The snow was soft under him. Winter was the best time of year, no argument. He watched as Junpei leaned down to make his own big snowball to help Izumi.

Hands grabbed Chackmon from behind, lifted him into the air. He twisted, tried to break free. The hands were warm.

”I’ll make a perfect snowmon of you, little brother”, Takuya said.

”I’ll turn you into a snowmon”, Chakmon laughed.

He grabbed his snowgun again and buried Takuya in snowballs. Takuya was stuck, couldn’t move even an inch. Chackmon laughed. The kids saw it and started piling even more snow on Takuya, shaped him into a big snowball. Gave him a tail and ears. This was great, Chackmon thought, they should have a snowday together when they got back to the human world again.

Kouji stretched, returned to the tree where Neemon was still sleeping and sat down under it again. Too cool for winter, probably. A couple of the kids joined Kouji and Neemon, fell asleep right next to them. How were they already tired?

Takuya got free from the snowpile, tackled Chackmon. Chackmon grabbed a handfull of snow and pressed into Takuya’s face and Takuya answered by shoving him, throwing snowballs as he went. Chackmon curled up, launched himself towards Takuya. Crashed into him and then they crashed right through the snowmon Izumi and Junpei had done. Izumi grabbed Takuya and shoved a handfull of snow under his shirt. Takuya shivered violently.

”What was that for?!” he yelled.

Izumi glared, her eyes hard and angry. She put her hands to her sides. Chackmon almost felt scared, despite Izumi only being a fragile human at the moment.

”We work hard on that!”

Takuya crossed his arms over his chest and turned his back to her. How he dared Chackmon couldn’t tell.

”It will melt the moment Tomoki returns to normal anyway”, Takuya said.

He had a tone of voice that made even Chackmon feel annoyed and overlooked. Izumi grabbed Takuya’s shirt, stuffed another handfull of snow into it before stomping away. Junpei and another couple of kids followed. Motimon and Wanyamon stayed behind, but were starting to look tired as well. Takuya rolled his eyes, then stalked away toward Kouji while Chackmon looked at the pile left after the snowmon. It would melt, but it had meant a lot to Izumi. He gathered the snow up, started pressing it together. Maybe he could rebuild it for her. Wanyamon and Motimon joined him and he wondered if they knew just what a useless task it actually was.

Despite the uselessness of it he wished every digiworld day could be like this. No fighting, just playing in the snow with friends. The sun shining. Laughter filling the air.

”We never see snow here”, Motimon said as they worked. ”Togemon says it only falls in the north.”

”Yeah”, Chackmon said.

He looked at the sky for a second, remembered when he met Nanomon, the snowy area around the city. The big furnace keeping it warm. Went back to forming the snow.

”They never see the sun instead”, he said with a laugh. ”At home, in the human world, we get both.”

He’d never complain about the different seasons again.

”We get rain”, Wanyamon said. ”Togemon told us the humas saved the school from a huge flood a while back.”

”That was Izumi and Junpei!”

They had mentioned it when they all met up again afterwards, although the flood had seemed like a sidenote. Bokomon had been so proud about being a teacher it had overshadowed everything else. Chackmon put the finishing touches on the snowmon and waved to Izumi.

”They’re great, they’ve protected me a lot during our time here.”

Izumi lit up when she saw the restored snowmon. Chackmon clapped his hands in excitement.

”Are you guys gonna save the world?” Wanyamon asked.

They curled their tail around themself, ears drooped slightly. Chackmon didn’t like it, everyone should be happy and hopefull. They had to do something about Cherubimon, had to free this world from his tyranny.

”Of course!” Chackmon said. ”Takuya is really strong, he can defeat anyone who wants to destroy this place. We’re all doing the best we can!”

Motimon laughed. Wanyamon looked slightly less worried. Good. Everything was good. Chackmon smiled, his spirit returning to the digivice. The snow melted around him, water gathered in pools in the grass, was absorbed into the ground. The sun shone less hot now. Tomoki’s stomach rumbled and he laughed, scratched the back of his head. It was way past lunchtime.

Togemon’s came out from the school building. She carried a big pot in her hands. Motimon and Wanyamon hurried away towards her and Tomoki went to Takuya.

”Lunchtime!” Togemon called.

The digimons that had fallen asleep around Kouji woke up and bounced away. Tomoki looked at Takuya.

”Are we staying?”

”It’s probably time for us to keep moving”, Takuya said and put his hands behind his head. ”This world won’t save itself.”

”Yeah…”

Tomoki looked at Togemon. At the kids. Junpei, Izumi and Bokomon waved goodbye and came up to the rest of them. Tomoki smiled. They’d save this world, for the kids. So they could keep playing in the grass without any worries.

”Come on!” he said. Smiled. ”Let’s go defeat Cherubimon!”

[vaugarde]

random fun fact abt me i just remembered: my mom might have started to support me abt my adhd and mental health issues bc of reddit

[outismm]

A little bit late to post this but I’ve been Experiencing

[detectivechandler]

@gravewalks said: ❝ my list of grievances would be about a mile long. ❞

What would you say then? If you were a ghost and some stranger asked what you were after?

The question had slipped before he could stop it, words painted with an amusement meant to hide the shadowed undertones of judgment, and Joe feels his brows furrow in frustration at the other man's refusal to accept it as anything else. Briefly he wonders what it would be like - that sure certainty of self that isn't afraid to blur the lines, to be confident in one's beliefs even if the knowledge of them being perfectly asinine - does his best to imagine a world where Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler is far less sharp angles and crisp edges, a man instead known for easy laughs and cavalier attitudes.

Whatever gets the job done.

He shakes his head at the thought, shoulders curled against the sudden burst of cold wind that runs tousled fingers through styled hair, sending strands blowing in every direction while the hem of his coat snaps against the air as if it too is venting its frustration. Joe will never understand the freedom of thought gifted to some people, that inherent trait that allows them to thread their way through the unconventional with nary a thought, but the knowledge doesn't stop him from trying. Blue eyes glance in Graves' direction while the fingers of one hand set to work trying to right blonde hair, a process as pointless as his current personal investigation.

"Do you really believe that? When people talk about ghosts, I mean ... or being mediums .. you believe them?"

[seventh-district]

still riding the high of finally getting a comment on AEIWNF yesterday