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aledmorningstar · 2 months

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╰┈➤Bad joke

Summary: Sukuna discovers that you don't like jokes.

Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Note: Slow updates, my editor and I are in a fight with my university administrators.

-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, slight angst

The terrible hours of class had finally ended, the hard day of university had culminated its torture at 6:00 pm, every day you reconsidered the idea of continuing studying so intensely, did you really need that university degree?

Without a doubt, life sounded more beautiful in an imaginary world, being a pretty housewife who patiently waited for her millionaire husband who loved her madly, your days would be spent helping your children with their homework and wasting an unreasonable amount of money on any whim.

“We've told you to stop daydreaming, it could be dangerous in the wrong places.”

Your daydream was interrupted by one of your best friends, it seemed like your group of friends had already finished putting away their belongings and were just waiting for you to leave the classroom.

"Oh I'm sorry. I was just thinking about the future."

“Is the young lady returning to the fantasy of married life with her impolite boyfriend?”

"Hey! I already told you not to talk about him like that."

You argue while you put your notebooks and computer in your bag, the one that your boyfriend Ryomen had given you on your birthday even though you told him that a gift was not necessary, you knew how difficult it must be for him and how limited which can sometimes be the money in your situation; his mother, playing the role of both parents and trying to provide a bright future for her children; Yuji, his twin who had to complete several courses to be a firefighter and also study a Bachelor's degree in automotive mechanics; and finally Ryomen himself, who had to complete his university career as a lawyer.

It was definitely not easy for him or his family, unlike you, who had lived the life of a princess in an imaginary bubble impenetrable by the dangers and worries of reality. Even though you had insisted on helping that modest family financially, you were not allowed to do so. Both Sukuna and his brother and mother refused to accept a cent of your generous support, saying that they did not want to take advantage of your kindness. That did not stop them from you gave expensive gifts to each one on special dates.

Maybe that was the reason behind that expensive gift from your boyfriend, one day he simply listened to you talk about that beautiful designer bag that was going to become fashionable with its next release on sale, he used all his savings and even did part-time jobs, washing cars, walking dogs, helping model clothes for the fashion design department; just to be able to see a cute and excited smile on your face.

You are a princess, the most beautiful flower he could find and of course he would give you everything you deserve, everything that fine society has given you and he does his best so that you do not have any lack by his side, to be worthy of you.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you had pre-ordered that bag thanks to your father's contacts and that you had to refund it, angering some merchants for their wasted efforts.

“Hurry up, if we don't get to the cafe on time the tables will be full.”

Like every Friday you and your friends got together to talk about the latest news in your lives, your social circle was mostly made up of girls just as privileged as you, it wasn't difficult for your father to convince you to choose a career in law, much less make you enter one of the most demanding and prestigious schools in the country.

Your friends are good girls, you knew that otherwise you wouldn't have even looked at them; However, like you, they were overprotected and followed the sophisticated rules that society had imposed on them. This was one of the reasons why they didn't quite agree with your relationship with Ryomen Sukuna, a commoner in their eyes.

Like any conversation between friends, the topic of boys and relationships could not be avoided, a topic in which you came to light with your strange relationship of “opposite poles”, the little princess of the city and the delinquent of the campus, it was the funniest and most interesting experiment your friends could witness.

“So… How is our little princess's relationship going? Did he already ruin it?”

Of course there were going to be silly comments that doubted that your relationship was authentic and that waited for the slightest mistake from your boyfriend to shout in your face “I told you so.”

"No and he won't, you don't know my 'kuna"

“We know his history”

Even though all your friends were always supportive and kind to you, there was one in particular who wasn't very nice. Ann, always making sarcastic comments and believing herself to be better than everyone, everyone could see how jealous she was of you; She had been the last to join the group, one day you saw her alone and decided to integrate her into your group, unfortunately you never found the words to tell her that you no longer wanted to be her friend.

“Come on, darling, everyone here remembers how your relationship began.”

“He has changed, he is not the same person he was before, he is a new man”

Sure, your relationship may not have started off in the most convincing way possible, there were lies, misunderstandings and a lot of tears, but everything is different now. Now you have the romance that any girl could dream of, one full of love, affection and trust of those you only find in books, you would have your happily ever after.

“Well, I'll wait for your bad boy to do one of his things and don't say I didn't warn you.”

"When pigs fly, that's not going to happen"

The atmosphere had frozen in an awkward silence as you and Ann exchanged a big forced smile, it was strange to see you angry because of your sweet personality, but it would certainly be even stranger not to see you jump into an argument that included Ryomen Sukuna's name, you are his unofficial lawyer.

“Okay girls, let's talk about something else…”

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

You love Fridays, the best day of the week, since you could sleep over at your loved one's house and enjoy the weekend in his arms watching movies, doing puzzles, taking photos, listening to music, talking, watching videos, going out on dates, ordering takeout or even when he played a video game on the console and you were left coloring the pictures he printed for you (sometimes he needs his space).

That Friday the drawings were finished quickly, so you decided to watch some videos on your tiktok while Sukuna played a video game that you only knew had weapons because of the shots. The videos on your fyp were about pranks between couples (something that amused you), some light and others a little harsh.

Sukuna was someone who was a joker, someone who liked to make jokes but couldn't stand having one played on him; However, you were a couple, a slight joke between you could be kind of funny, it wasn't even a funny joke you just wanted to see how funny his reaction could be.

A message made Sukuna's phone ring, you thought it was the perfect time for your little act as you held back your laughter.

“Who is sending you so many messages? You have another girl, right?”

Your comment surprised Sukuna slightly, you weren't the jealous type, he looked at you for a split second and that was enough for him to know you were joking, he can play too.

"Oh my love. It's not even one girl, they´re five precious ones."

The amused smile that adorned your face disappeared in an instant, being replaced by a strange grimace, your eyes glistening from the tears that formed and that you refused to let go as you bit your trembling lower lip, preventing any sound.

"Really?"

“Of course, pretty. I'm too cool to stay with just one girl."

Memories of your conversation with Ann invaded your mind, Sukuna Ryomen had a past that was difficult to overcome, would he really change overnight for you?

Your boyfriend quickly realized that you had started packing your belongings back into your suitcase, why would you do that? The plan was that you would stay with him like every weekend, what was happening?

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

Well, you had dropped a little bomb that exploded in your face and you didn't like it, but you wouldn't let him notice that it dealt a low blow at least for you.

“I'm just putting my things away. “Can you pass me my colored pencils?”

Sukuna decided to make the difficult decision to abandon his game and pay attention to the seemingly serious situation that was occurring with his beloved.

He did as you asked, you put away your colored pencils next to your other belongings with quick movements and finally wrote something furiously on your phone.

“I asked you a question, what are you doing?”

“Nothing… I'm asking my driver to come pick me up.”

"Now?"

“Yes, now. In fact I'm writing to him 'Please hurry up, I want to leave here right now, come as fast as you can'”

You could barely feel the force and speed with which Ryomen snatched the phone from your hands, he stood up and placed your phone on one of the highest pieces of furniture in the living room.

"Why would you do that?"

"What do you mean why? Did you hear what you said earlier?”

The hardest question you can ask a man, ask him the reason why his girlfriend was angry. The pink-haired man's reasoning quickly went to work.

Connect the dots, you had gotten angry within a period of 5 minutes, you weren't angry with him before that time, all he had done was play video games. Had that bothered you? No, he had given you drawings of your favorite characters to entertain you, the only thing he had done besides playing had been answering your joke... Oh.

“Ah, that's it.”

“Is that all you will say?”

Okay, a mental note for Sukuna: You like making jokes, you don't like having them made or returned to you. You're a crybaby, but he still loves you.

“Sorry, love, it was a joke. You know that I only love you, you are the only girl who occupies my heart, the owner of my soul and my body, I would kill for you, ask me to kill for you."

Ryomen approached to hug you from behind, he placed one of his hands on your abdomen and one on your shoulder, crossing your chest to bring you closer to him, you could feel his breath on your neck and after a few seconds you shivered from the kisses he gave you. he left on your cheek.

“I didn't find your joke funny.”

“In my defense, you started joking that I had another woman. You’re a baby, jokes aren’t your thing, darling.”

The look on your face made him feel like he had just kicked a puppy, his solution was to carry you back to the couch and hold you in his arms.

"I'm sorry baby. You can choose the movie we watch today, deal?”

"Deal"

⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here

#aledthinks #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #drabble #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #fluff

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gojomerchbox · 23 days

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embrosegraves · 5 months

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𝔸𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤

(request) Sebastian Vettel x Reader Periods are the worst but Seb makes them bearable It’s just very very sweet!

Warnings: Reader has very intense cramps but its not too detailed. Reader's gender isn't explicitly mentioned but I wrote with afab reader in mind

You had never been in so much pain in your life. And you had once broken a bone. Sure your cramps had always been bad, but this was a whole different level of painful. You had woken up this morning with intense cramping and it didn’t take you long to figure out why.

Your period had come a day early.

Part of you was grateful that Sebastian was scheduled to be away for another day. You didn’t want him to have to deal with you while on the first day of your period. It was always the worst day of the whole week because your body was still adjusting to the sudden pain it was enduring.

Sebastian was always a godsend when it came to your period. He was never embarrassed to go to the store and get what products you needed. He always made sure that he stocked up on things that he knew you liked. Things like your favourite sweets, your favourite tea bags and he always always always made sure that you had hot chocolate ready to be made at a moment's notice.

All that to say that this time around, Sebastian had wanted to surprise you by coming home from the race weekend a little earlier than initially planned. Almost as soon as the race had finished and he didn’t have any more media duties to attend to, he got on the soonest flight back home to you.

Once Sebastian had reached the airport and collected his things from baggage claim, he received a notification on his phone.

Flo: 🩸🩸🩸 starts today!

Once Sebastian had seen it, he adjusted his plans slightly and made sure to stop at the store on his way home so he could get you some things to hopefully relax.

Ever since the pre-race events had started earlier that day, you had been lying on the couch, curled up in the foetal position. The pain was so intense that you had only just managed to change your clothes in the morning and make your way to the couch. You didn’t have any extra energy to shower or grab any medicine that you knew you had. There was also the fact that you were trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need any medicine. That you could soldier through your period pain and be fine.

That was exactly how Sebastian found you when he finally walked through the front door of your house. Given the amount of pain that he could see on your face, he knew you would struggle to answer anything he asked you. He quickly put his things down in the entryway, he could deal with it all later, and made his way to the kitchen to pour you a glass of cold water and put the kettle on so that he could make you a hot drink as well.

Grabbing the glass of water and some medicine from the cabinet, he made his way back to where you were, put the glass on the coffee table before gently helping you sit up so you could swallow the tablet without choking on it.

Once he made sure you had swallowed it he went back to the kitchen, leaving you to slowly sip on the water. Quickly grabbing your favourite mug, he made you a hot chocolate and topped it with mini marshmallows and chocolate powder. On his way back to the living room, he grabbed the bag of snacks he had bought. Walking into the room, he set the items on the coffee table and carefully sat down next to you.

He spent the rest of the night comforting you and making sure that you were well taken care of. He whispered sweet things in your ear, both in English and German. It made you feel incredibly loved. Whispering assurances to you, Sebastian made sure that you drank your warm drink and ate some of the things he got for you.

Eventually he got you to the bathroom, helping you shower away the gross feeling of sweat and gently massaging the soreness from your shoulders and neck. Afterwards he dressed you in your designated period pyjamas and laid you down on the bed before going to heat up your microwave heat bag.

Crawling into bed beside you, he gave you the heat bag and wrapped you up in his arms. You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your face to cradle it.

“Thank you Sebby.”

“I will always take care of you, Liebling.”

I smashed this out in one sitting. Briefly proofread but not at the same time??

Idk but I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you enjoyed reading it!!

#sebastian vettel #formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sv5 #formula one #just seb being the absolute best for his lover #I hope 🦝-Anon (certified Seb Enjoyer™) will love this lmao

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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

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hi! i saw joel miller but only if i ask nicely so pretty pretty please joel miller and prompt #19

Falling Into Place (Joel Miller x reader)

Masterlist | Wanna be tagged?

Prompt: ARGUING!!! Then a heated “kiss me.” and suddenly their hands are all over each other.

A/N: Hey there nonnie! Thank you so much for the ask! I’m so sorry this took so long ahahah, I was a little stuck with Joel ngl. I hope you don’t mind me changing the prompt a little bit cuz I’ve written this prompt too many times hahahah. Anyway, here’s sweet and soft Joel, enough to warm your heart and brain. (Also a little thank you to @lil-stark and @campingwiththecharmings for aiding in my quest for fluffy goodness).

Warnings: MDNI, smut, very public sex, fingering, unprotected p in v, biting and marking, Joel is a lil thief, alcohol is involved, pre-outbreak.

Word Count: 3.9 k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You don’t really know how you became friends with Joel Miller.

It feels a little out of place whenever you hang out with the tall, dark and handsome man and you can’t help but feel like he’d much rather chat with his buddies over some beer.

You had asked him to help you out when you moved into the neighbourhood, and he used his carpentry skills to build you a new shelf that you had designed. You babysitting (or teenage sitting) Sarah certainly drew the both of you closer and Joel found it absolutely endearing when Sarah wanted to spend more time with you. You found yourself keening towards his senses of humour and sarcasm, your heart warming at the way he treated his daughter.

Joel Miller was most definitely your type, his brown curls and matured face made you feel things that you wanted to thoroughly forget. You knew he had a heart of gold and a smile to match, but it only made you fall into a deeper hole, one that you knew was going to take forever to dig yourself out of. So you kept it strictly platonic with Joel, building a friendship like no other with him, stuffing all of your feelings for him in a bag and throwing it into your box of problems you want to put away.

In your horrible efforts to stuff your feelings for Joel away, you didn’t notice how head over heels in love with you he was. Joel looked at you as if you brought the sun with you wherever you went, his entire demeanour changing whenever you were around. Sarah, the ever attentive daughter sat and watched as her father failed at trying to convey his feelings.

The first time she pointed it out, Joel got defensive.

“Come on, you’d have to be blind if you think we all don’t notice!” Sarah sighed as her father furiously shook his head.

“Who’s ‘we all’ ?” Joel grumbled, his eyes shifting to his brother who at that second decided that it would be a great time to go for a drive.

After a while of denying, Joel caved hard and decided to ask Sarah for help. He was afraid. The last thing he wanted was to lose a woman like you.

“You’re already doing everything right, Dad. You now just have to find out whether he feels the same.” Sarah said over dinner one day.

For weeks he had been trying to figure out what to do, until one day when you and he went to pick Sarah from school.

“Dad, I need you to sign the consent form for the camping trip.” Sarah said before Joel could even pull out of the parking lot.

“Oh! A camping trip! You’re gonna have so much fun, Sarah.”you piped up before Joel even thought of digressing.

“Do you like camping?” Sarah asked, resting her arms on the seats in front of her, her curly hair brushing your temple.

“Hmm, I’m more of a picnic girl, you know, food in the sunshine with a soft fluffy blanket under you.” You say nonchalantly and Sarah smiled.

A thought crossed her mind and she looked into the rear view mirror, only to see her father staring at her, wide-eyed. Sometimes Sarah wondered whether her dad knew what she was thinking, but this moment just confirmed that the two of them shared the same brain cell. Her smile widened and Joel shook his head slightly, trying not to draw your attention.

Sarah sat back into the back seat, her arms folded as she contained her excitement. All she had to do now is to convince Joel to let her do the planning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Joel took a deep breath as he loaded the last of the things into his truck, covering them with an inconspicuous tarp so that you wouldn’t guess what he was up to. He smoothed down the clothes Sarah had picked out for him and started for your front door. His nerves were already on edge. He knew that you would come with him, but it was more the matter of whether you liked what he and Sarah had planned for you.

Sarah gave him some last minute tips before leaving for camp the day before. She threatened him that he wouldn’t see the light if he didn’t open his mouth and confessed to you over the picnic.

“You are coming back with a girlfriend, old man. If not, you are not coming back at all.” she had huffed, folding the blanket that she picked out for him.

His hand shook slightly as he raised it to ring the doorbell, waiting with baited breath until he heard your footsteps. You swung the door open and beamed at him, the morning fog and the dim lighting kickstarting Joel’s worn out heart as he stares at you. Your hair was in a bird’s nest style and you brought your hands to the top of your head to attempt to tame it. Joel started to dissociate, wondering whether he could experience this hairstyle first hand every morning.

“Joel?” Your voice brought him back from his little daydream and he smiled softly at you.

“Meet me at my place in about 20 minutes, I’m taking you somewhere. Wear something comfortable.” He blurted out before his nervousness took over and spoiled everything.

You stared at the man before you. He looked different, cuter. His dressing style was slightly different, and you wondered what the occasion was. He was wearing a white t-shirt with his jeans but he had a navy blue button down shirt that he used as a jacket and you couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked.

You nodded and closed the door, running for your room as soon as you heard him descending the patio. You were there in 15 minutes, the fastest you’d ever gotten ready. Joel opened the door as soon as you knocked, only to be absolutely blown away from the dress you were wearing. You had chosen your favourite simple white sundress with puffed sleeves and accessorised with a pretty navy blue bow in your hair. Your burgundy lipstick topped everything off and Joel was in absolute awe, making you look up at him curiously.

It wasn’t the inconspicuous tarp in the back of his truck that made you think Joel Miller was going to kidnap you and kill you, it was when he handed you a blindfold and a pair of headphones.

“Please, I know this is weird but you have to trust me.” He pleaded, his brown eyes big.

Those eyes were going to get you killed one day. You gave in and put it on. Joel drove for a few minutes and then he stopped, tapping your hand reassuringly. You decided to trust him, he had nothing but purity in his eyes when he looked at you. Besides what was the worst that could happen?

Joel’s hand wrapped around your wrist after a while, startling you. He gently removed the headphones and took your hand in his.

“Alright, it’s ready, I’m going to walk you out of the truck, ‘kay?” He whispered and you nodded.

You followed him as he pulled you out, your heels settling on what seemed like grass. He walked you a distance away from the car and when he stopped, he gently tugged at the blindfold, letting it fall and revealing his surprise. As your eyes adjust to the light, you’re absolutely stunned. Before you lay a large blanket with pillows and a large picnic basket. Food, fruits and alcohol poked out of the basket and the scenery was absolutely delightful.

You turned to Joel in shock and he was chewing his bottom lip in anticipation for your reaction. He looked so beautiful like this, the green grass giving him a perfect backdrop.

“Shit Joel! This is beautiful!” You squealed, stumbling towards him for a hug.

Joel was smiling so hard that he didn’t realise that you were hugging him. He found himself melting into your soft grasp, soaking up the way you held him. He took hold of your hand and guided you onto the blanket, watching as you sat down and tucked the hem of your dress under your legs. He followed suit and began to dish out food and wine for you. The both of you talked and drank, totally oblivious to the rest of the world as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky.

The both of you were considerably tipsy as the wine from the wine bottles evaporated quickly. Joel was fully laying down, a glass of wine balancing on his wide chest. You glanced at the hot Texan sun and reached into your bag, pulling out your bottle of sunscreen to reapply. You were lathering the product all over your arms when you noticed Joel was looking at you, his nose scrunched up and lips pursed as if he were going to say something.

“What? Want some?” you ask, holding out the bottle.

“Pft sunscreen? Please, I'm a man.” Joel scoffed, downing the rest of his wine and setting the glass side.

You raised your eyebrow at him as if he said something absolutely ridiculous.

“Well the sun is non discriminatory and it doesn’t care what gender you are, it still will give you skin cancer!” you say, wiggling the bottle over his face.

Joel rolled his eyes and you decided to take matters into your own hands. You put a blob of sunscreen on your finger and try to swipe it on his face, only to have Joel dodge you. He grabbed your hands with a laugh and tried to take the bottle away from you but when he did, he stumbled and pushed you down, landing on top of you and pinning you down. He snatches the bottle of sunscreen with a grin but your determination got the best of you.

In your sundress, you flip Joel over and he lands on his back with a thud and a light groan. His eyes widened as you sat properly on his chest, pinning his arms down with your legs. Joel felt something steer in him as he gulped and suddenly he didn’t care about the sunscreen, not even the smug look on your face as you began to put the sunscreen on his face. He watched as you slowly let go of his arms, raising his arms to rub sunscreen on them and once he felt like your guard was let down, he decided to strike.

You then found yourself staring up at Joel, your hair splayed everywhere and your breathing quickening. Joel was on his knees, bracketing your body, his hands on either side of your head.

“You're gonna pay for that, sweetheart.” Joel huffed.

“A little sunscreen hurting the big bad man? Boo hoo dummy!” You say, despite how fast your heart was racing at the term of endearment leaving his lips.

“You're the one who's scared of the sun!!”

“You clearly don’t read, Joel Miller!”

“Right as if you can read anything, pretty girl.”

“I CAN DUMBASS”

“YEA RIGHT, SO READ THIS!”

Before you could register what Joel meant, he dives down and his lips are suddenly connected with yours, effectively silencing you. He kisses you hard, his hand cupping your cheek as you arched your back so that your chest pressed against his, kissing him back with equal fervour. He pulled back after a few seconds, and his lips were as red as his pretty cheeks, tainted with your burgundy lipstick.

You huffed out a few puffs of breath before saying the only thing that came to your drunk-addled mind.

“I thought manly men hated girly girl things. Why the hell are you wearing my lipstick then?”

Joel was taken aback by your reaction, clearly not expecting how nonchalant you were. You reached up and touched his lips, swiping the plump pout and showing him the transfer with a grin. Joel smiled but suddenly a wave of insecurity rushed over him, evident on his face.

“What’s wrong, Joel.” you say quickly, wondering if your little joke rubbed him wrong.

“Are we doing this because we're drunk?” he whispered, peering down at you.

The panic instantly faded from your body, replaced with quaint relief.

“Joel, you big dummy, I’ve been wanting to kiss you since forever. I promise that I’d do it again and again as sober as a judge.” Your words brought a relieved grin on Joel’s face.

You slid your hands to his chest and gently pushed him off you, patting the space beside you.

“Lay down, let me show you.” you whisper.

He obeys, guiding you as you straddle his body once again. You frame his face with your hands, gently carding your fingers through his curls, twisting them slightly, enjoying how his eyes flutter slightly.

“Here’s that brilliant brain of yours, bringing my ideas to life.” You whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“These beautiful lines hold so many memories and I hope to make more with you.” you kiss the crows feet at the edges of his eyes.

“I’ve always wanted to pinch your cheeks, so full of life.” you kissed his bouncy cheeks before pinching them gently.

“Your adorable ears, the ones that listen to me ramble without fail.” you kiss both of his ears and Joel melts further into the blanket below him.

“Your chocolate eyes, better than any delectable treat I can dream of.” you left feathery kisses on his eyelids.

“Your amazing lips, carrying your beautiful smile and your even more beautiful words.” you kiss his chin and his lips.

Then you slowly traced his nose with the palm of your hand, your fingers tickled by his eyelashes on either side. You bend down and gently kiss the tip of his nose, before nipping it slightly with your teeth, giggling. You pulled away to see the radiant smile on Joel’s face, which had lighted up like a firework.

“Wait, what about my nose?” he whispered, and you couldn’t help but blush and grin shyly.

“You’ll find out later.” you whispered back and Joel felt a rush like no other as his cheeks heated up too.

Joel brings his head up and kisses you, pushing you and turning slightly, so that the both of you are on your sides. His hands gripped at your hips hard before coiling around your waist and pulling you ever so close, crushing every bone that existed in your body. You whine into the kiss, your arm looped itself around his neck and your free hand combs up his soft curls for purchase.

Joel surprises you by biting your bottom lip and tugging it slightly, pulling a gut wrenching moan from you. Joel went back to kissing you, licking into your mouth as he desperately felt the urge to hear that sound again. He pushes you down fully and breaks the kiss, kissing your chin before planting kisses as soft as cotton onto your neck.

You arched your back again and Joel took his chance to attack. He started his assault on your neck, kissing, biting and sucking in a pattern that had you writhing against him, grinding his hips down to meet yours. His hands couldn’t seem to let go of you, as if he was absolutely hopeless without the feeling of you. Your hands bunched up the back of his navy shirt, crumpling the material as you fisted it hard. The sounds that escaped your lips made Joel growl against your neck, at the same time where the bulge at his jeans caught your heated core, which made you gasp. Joel pulls away at the sound of your gasp and you look up at him with wide eyes. You had the words at the tip of your tongue but you had difficulty conveying it with how you were breathing.

Joel looked down your body, to where your dress had hiked up, exposing a lovely lacey thing that covered you. The strain at his jeans grew more tight and his heart and mind raced.

“Joel, I need it. I need you, please, baby. Give me whatever you have.” you whisper, clutching at your chest.

“Fuck, sweetheart, let me take care of you.” He groans, shifting you slightly so that his body shielded you.

He pulled your dress up a little more before sliding his hands down your body, taking in the curve of your figure and the plush of your skin. He cupped his hand at your mound and you whined, bucking your hips up to meet his hand as his other hand snapped the band of your panties at your hip bone.

“Shh, baby, relax.” He whispered before lifting your hips and pulling your panties down before stuffing them into his back pocket.

You keened as the outdoor air hit your already soaking pussy. Joel dipped his finger in your folds, absolutely mesmerised by how wet you were already.

“Good lord, you’re already dripping and I haven’t even properly had my way with you.” He pushes one finger through and you swear you almost lost consciousness with how you let the air escape your lungs.

“Joel, please.” You needed something else or else you were going to lose it like a mad woman.

“Patience, pretty girl. I need to stretch you open first, don’t know if it's gonna fit in your perfect pussy.” Joel purrs as he inserts another finger and pumps them in and out, your slick making it easy.

You bit down hard on your bottom lip, breathing hard and Joel immediately chastised you.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart I need to hear you, let go of that lip, that's right.” his Southern drawl makes your mouth drop open and the symphony of noise starts again.

He hooks his fingers and hits that perfect spot, arousal bubbling hard at your abdomen as your back arches off the blanket and your chest puffs out. You were absolutely turned on by the situation, having your first with Joel out in broad daylight. One of your tits jiggle out of the confines of your low cut dress, making Joel grin down at you, letting his free hand slide and capture it, squeezing down at the pressure in which he hits your g-spot again.

“So fucking beautiful, wanted you for so long, angel.” He moans, pulling his fingers out and slipping them into his mouth as your hands undo his belt and his jeans.

Your eyes stayed on his as he sucked your arousal off his fingers. He spit onto his hand before taking over and pulling his cock out of boxers. You gaped at the size of him and realised that he wasn’t just bragging when he said that it’d be a tight fit. He fisted his hardened member a few times, tipping his head back as he squeezed the tip a little.

“Baby, I don’t have a condom.” He says and you swear your whole demeanour lights up.

You realised that he truly didn’t intend for this to happen and he wanted you to enjoy your picnic. He certainly wasn’t complaining now with how hard his cock is and you weren’t either as your pussy clenched around nothing.

“That’s ok, I want to feel you. Only if you’re okay with it.” You tell him shyly and Joel swore that Christmas had come early for him.

He nodded silently and he braced himself with his arm as he pushed himself against your entrance, running his cock up and down your slit, catching your clit a few times.

“Inside, Joel, want you to fill me up, with your cock, your cum, your everything.” You slurred slightly the arousal making you stupid and all you could think of was getting your fix from the handsome man above you.

Joel slips inside you with a groan and you hiss at the burn. You’ve never had someone so big and your eyes teared at the stretch. Joel, as attentive as ever, stopped in his tracks, his eyes searching yours. He was terrified, terrified of hurting you as he speared you hard.

“It's ok Joel, it’ll be ok, move baby.” You smoothed your hand up and down his arm and he obliged.

Your movements stopped and you were now gripping hard at his biceps as Joel slowly bottoms out, grinding as his pubic hair tickled your clit. You were absolutely dizzy with delight, your head lolling as you smiled up at Joel.

“Not gonna last, your pussy’s so tight.” He breaths.

“We come together, baby.” You urged as the sting dissipates and the pleasure waves started coming in.

At first Joel had control, the slow drag of his cock creating the most beautiful feeling in you. You felt so close like this, with him in you, your pleasure morphing into the feelings that you had pushed away, making you realise that you actually love this man.

It was when Joel’s thumb found your clit when all hell broke loose. He started pistoning his hips, his free hand finding your wrists and pinning them over your head. You pulled your wrist out of his grasp as he fucked into you faster before lacing your fingers with his.

“Ungh, Joel, just like that, ungh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck, ungh.” You babbled as your grip tightened.

Joel could almost cry at how beautifully you were taking him, your whole body shaking as your moans echoed with his grunts in the empty valley. His thrusts were on the cusp of being sloppy as he felt his pleasure catch up with him. His thumb at your clit was a little too much and the bubbling pleasure boiled over as drool seeped from your mouth.

Joel licked your saliva and kissed you hard as you came undone, breaking it off to see your face contort as you came hard, your arousal gushing around his cock. Just at the sight of you cumming, Joel’s pleasure got the best of him and he thrusted hard, pumping a generous load of cum deep inside of you as you milked him with how your pussy was still clenching hard.

“Fuck, I love you! Pretty, pretty sweetheart, all mine.” Joel babbled too and the words hit you like a truck, prolonging your orgasm.

Joel slumped against you, kissing your neck softly as the both of you basked in the sun and the glow of the mind altering sex.

“I can’t believe you kissed me.” You say out loud and Joel brings his face out of your neck, an exasperated look adorning his handsome features.

“You’re telling me that I stuffed you full of my cum, told you I love you and you’re still thinking about the kiss, darling?” He huffed and your face blazed at his dirty mouth.

“T’was a good kiss.” You mumbled as Joel laughed and grabbed a few napkins before gently pulling out.

“I love you too, by the way.” You say and Joel’s cheeks flushed pink.

He bent down and kissed your forehead, nose and lips before cleaning you up.

“Why don’t I clean you up and we can go home and I’ll show you how good I kiss you and how much I love you. Maybe I can put my nose to use this time.” He winked at you as he pulled your dress back into place, casually forgetting to return your panties.

Your face heated up as he gathered you in his arms and walked you to his truck, finally feeling like you had found your true home.

Tagging: @wolfbook87 @bodhisattva11 @nyotamalfoy @whatsliferightnow @minigirl87 @alexxavicry @marygraceee @bloodredwolfsbane @euphoricosmo @violet-19999 @celiaswife @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @magic-schoolbusdropout @anony-muse @anonymously35 @nerdreader

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amusedcosaudiarabia · 6 months

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Vintage vs. Modern: The Appeal of Pre-Loved Designer Bags from Different Eras

The world of pre-loved designer bags is a treasure trove of fashion history and style. Whether you're an avid collector or a newcomer to the scene, you'll discover that the allure of these bags spans across different eras. From vintage classics to modern masterpieces, pre-loved designer bags offer a diverse range of styles and stories. In this guide, we'll explore the timeless appeal of pre-loved bags from various periods, helping you decide which era resonates most with your fashion sensibilities.

1. Vintage Designer Bags: Timeless Classics

Vintage designer bags are those produced over 20 years ago. They are not only bags but also pieces of fashion history. Here's why vintage designer bags have an enduring charm:

- Iconic Styles: Vintage bags often feature iconic designs that have stood the test of time. Classic examples include the Hermes Kelly and Birkin, Chanel Flap, and Louis Vuitton Speedy. These bags are celebrated for their timeless elegance.

- Rare Finds: Vintage bags can be rare gems, with unique colors, materials, or limited editions. Owning a vintage bag with a distinctive feature sets you apart in the world of fashion.

- Craftsmanship: Vintage bags are a testament to the superior craftsmanship of earlier eras. Many were made by hand and have quality that rivals or surpasses their modern counterparts.

- Investment Pieces: Vintage bags are considered investments. Their value often appreciates, making them not only stylish accessories but also assets.

2. Modern Designer Bags: Contemporary Luxury

Modern pre-loved designer bags are those from the past 20 years. These bags exhibit contemporary aesthetics, and here's why they continue to captivate fashion enthusiasts:

- Evolving Styles: Modern bags represent the evolution of fashion. They feature current trends, designs, and materials that reflect the spirit of their era.

- Versatility: Modern bags are often more versatile and adaptable to various occasions. They're designed for the contemporary lifestyle, blending fashion and function.

- Brand Innovations: Many renowned brands continually release new designs. Modern bags allow you to explore the latest creations from the world's most prestigious fashion houses.

- Wider Availability: As modern bags are relatively recent, they are more readily available in excellent condition. This availability makes it easier to find the bag of your dreams.

- Personal Connection: Modern bags offer the opportunity to create your own history with the bag. You can be part of its story, knowing that it will continue to evolve as you carry it through life's adventures.

- Sustainability: Choosing modern pre-loved bags is an eco-friendly choice. It supports the principles of sustainable fashion by extending the life of these luxury accessories.

Whether you're drawn to the enduring charm of vintage bags or the contemporary luxury of modern designs, pre-loved designer bags offer an array of options to suit your style and preferences. Platforms like Amused provide a curated collection of both vintage and modern bags, allowing you to explore the rich tapestry of fashion history. The next time you're shopping for a pre-loved designer bag, consider the era that resonates most with your fashion identity and the stories that each bag carries from its time.

#pre-loved designer bag #Modern pre-loved designer bags #Vintage designer bags #amused

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harlowcomehome · 6 months

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October nights and spooky stitches:

Series link!

The front door of your apartment slammed shut behind you, alerting Layla that you were finally home. You struggled to carry the numerous bags in your hands.

“Why didn’t you call me and tell me you needed me to meet you at the car? I would’ve helped you.” Layla rushed over grabbing some of the bags that were nearly falling out of your hands.

“It would’ve taken entirely too long, and I was already running late!”

You had sweat dripping down your face, and you were irritated from getting out of work a lot later than expected, but that was the theme of this week.

“Can you set up the table? I just want to take a quick shower before Jack and Urb get here.”

Layla immediately knew that something wasn’t right, you were jittery and anxious, your fingers trembling as you asked her to set up the table but she agreed anyway.

Jack and Urban showed up as soon as you were done in the shower.

Layla wanted to warn Jack about how you were feeling but didn’t get the opportunity, and instead helped Urban set up snacks in the kitchen.

Jack immediately ran over to you, his arms wrapped around your torso as he lifted you in the air. You sighed against him, feeling a lot better in his presence, the smell of his cologne lingering on your clothes.

“What’s wrong?” He pulled back, looking you in the eyes as you were still suspended in the air.

You had a love/hate relationship with how easily he picked up on your emotions.

“Work was just hectic and I wasn’t able to get home early enough to set up and I just feel overwhelmed” you rambled in one breath as he sat you back down on the floor.

“We’re here now, it’s fine. Everything’s fine” he bent down to kiss you, you felt like he really saw you, for you, and that made you comfortable enough to be vulnerable with him.

You were unhappy with your job, not because the job itself was difficult but because you felt a constant push and pull between going to work and being present and constantly wanting to be with Jack on the road.

Every fiber of your being knew Jack was who you were meant to be with, you had never had that immediate “this is the one” moment everyone talked about until being with Jack, and a big part of that terrified you.

You didn’t want to be too much too quickly, especially when his career was just starting to take off.

The four of you had planned on this “pre-Halloween” night for a few weeks now knowing at the end of October tour kicked off again.

“While the pizza is cooking, do you guys wanna start carving the pumpkins?” Layla asked excitedly pointing to the pumpkins placed in front of each table setting.

“Of course!” You smiled, Jack still wasn’t sold on your false display of happiness but he was going to let it go for the sake of the night.

“Ewww pumpkin guts” Urban had a hand full of pumpkin seeds in his hands, teasing Layla as he pretended that he was going to throw them at her.

“Whatcha going to carve?” Jack bumped you lightly with his shoulder. He had realized you were spaced out, as you looked through designs.

“I think this one” you pointed to a design that came with the pumpkin carving kit.

“I’m going to freestyle mine,” Jack said confidently, making you giggle.

“Oh yeah?” You smiled as you started to cut the top off your pumpkin, placing the seeds into a big bowl in front of you.

You knew you would tell Jack about how you were feeling but you wanted to do it one-on-one so you pushed the feelings aside for now, or at least attempted to.

“Are we doing anything with these?” Layla asked as she also put her pumpkin seeds in the bowl. You silently shrugged, not wanting to make any decisions.

Urban and Jack made silent facial expressions at one another, as they could feel your sorrow and uneasiness fill the room.

Jack was about to speak when your eyes opened wide, you pulled your hand back quickly, putting pressure on your finger.

“Fuck- fuck-“ you threw your head back wincing in pain, as your finger bleed profusely. You used your other hand to put pressure on it but it wasn’t doing much at all.

“Babe! Holy shit!” Jack jumped up motioning for Layla to hand him something to help you.

Layla scrambled to find a clean kitchen towel, throwing it to Jack immediately.

“That looks really bad” Urban's face grew pale, splotches of red covering his cheeks.

Layla forced him to sit back down, realizing Jack was nearly identical-looking.

Jack handed you the towel, holding it down with you with as much pressure as he could.

Tears started streaming down your face, you were more embarrassed than hurt. The adrenaline and shock helped as you barely noticed how deep the cut actually was.

“Are you both seriously squeamish over blood?” She clicked her tongue, seeing the fear in your face.

“Jack, sit down before you faint” Layla sighed.

“Let me go with you!” Jack scrambled to find his keys, he had normally put them on the counter but couldn’t find them in a panic.

“You can’t! You’re- you. ” Layla panicked as you stood there stoic, and in shock.

Jack knew she was right, but you were his girlfriend and he hated not being able to just show up at places with you, especially when you needed him.

“Watch the pizza, we’ll be back” Layla grabbed her car keys ushering you out of the apartment as you leaned half of your weight onto her.

Jack and Urban were silent for a moment, shocked at what had just happened. Jack turned to where you had been sitting, noticing the droplets of blood that were left behind.

“She is going to need stitches for sure” Urban followed Jack's gaze and sighed, standing up to find something to clean it with.

“I wonder what she was so distracted by tonight” Jack chewed the inside of his cheek nervously.

“She told me it was work, which I believe but she didn’t seem like herself, right?” He took the antibacterial wipe from Urban and cleaned up the remainder of the droplets before washing his hands and waiting for the pizza timer.

Urban wasn’t sure what was going on, usually, Layla told him everything but she hadn’t mentioned anything to him, so he was just as lost as Jack.

Meanwhile, the drive to the hospital felt like it was hours long. You, just like Jack and Urban couldn’t handle blood, and you had never had something happen that would likely involve stitches.

“We are almost there okay?” Layla's voice was calming, she usually knew how to channel that side of things. She was always your calm in the storm, so to speak.

Once you got sat in a room, you were given some numbing shots that made you cry in pain, and stitches were given. You were given an antibiotic ointment, and then you were sent home.

“Have you heard from the guys?” You sighed, as you got into Layla's car.

“You haven’t checked your phone?” Layla seemed surprised, realizing now that you hadn’t paid attention to your phone all night.

“I left it at the apartment” You shrugged, and Layla couldn’t hold back any longer.

“You know, Jack was worried sick about you, I’m pretty sure he and Urb are still at our place” she reached to turn the heater on before pulling out of the hospital parking lot.

You looked at the time on her car dashboard, it had been several hours.

You didn’t say a word, knowing she was about to tell you the truth that you desperately needed to hear.

“We both know what happened tonight was because you are distracted. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’re my best friend. Talk to me. If you’re not going to talk to Jack, at least talk to me.”

You started to cry, the words on the tip of your tongue felt like a giant sandbag sliding down your throat. You started crying so hard you could barely breathe.

“Talk to me, you can always talk to me” Layla pulled over, ironically into the parking lot where you and Jack had your first date.

You looked up, seeing the arcade sign and laughing through your tears, feeling like it was a sign from the universe.

“Are you laughing?” Layla felt confused by your mood changing so drastically.

“Remember how I took all that time off so that I could spend more time with Jack?”

Layla nodded, not wanting to interrupt your thought process.

“Well, someone else in my department was supposed to pick up my projects. They didn’t, so I’ve been having to work all of this over time to make sure everything meets deadlines. I don’t think I’m going to be able to go back on tour with Jack, and it’s going to break his heart Lay. I don’t want to lose him.” You were trying not to cry but were unsuccessful as you tried to catch your breath.

“Oh Y/N. Jack is in love with you, he’ll understand. Just talk to him.” She rubbed your back for a brief second.

The drive back to the apartment felt long, the pit of your stomach was uneasy and your entire mouth was dry.

The living room was only illuminated by the TV, Urban stood up immediately following Layla to her bedroom and leaving you and Jack alone.

“Can I turn the lights on?” You mumbled, wanting to see his face better once you spoke.

“Yeah babe” he turned them on for you, rushing over to you to examine your hand.

“Babe” he quietly sighed, “How’re you feeling?”

“Better now, the shots were painful though” You sat down on the couch as he followed closely behind you.

“Can we talk about something?” You avoided his eye contact, making the anxiety he was already having grow more intense.

“Those words feel a lot like a breakup” he nervously mumbled, catching you completely off guard.

“No! It’s nothing like that. I promise” You leaned into him, giving him a reassuring kiss on the lips.

“You always think that! I’m not going anywhere” you winked before continuing making him relax as he laughed in response.

You explained what was going on at your job, your lip trembling as you told Jack that you weren’t sure if you could finish out the tour with him or not.

Jack was silent, letting you vent and get it all out but it was making you more and more nervous.

“Please say something” you begged, grabbing his hand with the one hand you had left that wasn’t injured.

“Quit” he smirked, catching you by surprise.

“What?”

“Quit, I’ll find a job for you on my team.”

“Babe? I can’t ask you to do that though” You were worried he felt pressured.

“You didn’t ask. You told me you had an issue, and I’m solving it. Quit” he smiled, before leaning in for a kiss.

“Quit?” You asked between kisses making sure you heard him correctly.

“Quit, put your two weeks in, whatever you want to call it” he reassured you.

“Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure” he smiled.

“Well, I guess I made tonight eventful” you laughed nervously.

“Don’t worry, Urban and I remained busy” he stood up showing you the pumpkins they carved while you were at the hospital.

“He did two and I did two” Jack winked making you giggle as you could definitely tell which two were his.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow concepts #Jack Harlow fic

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thesandsofelsweyr · 1 year

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THE SUS BOY NEXT DOOR

《 PART 1/3 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

《WORDS》 2,809 《CHAPTERS》 1 2 3

《PAIRING》 Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

《TROPES》 Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

《WARNINGS》 Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

《NOTES》

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

This is my first attempt at a reader-insert fic 🙃

Yes this is a repost. My blog is still new so Tumblr didn't allow my original post to appear in the tags. (Shout out to the 10 of you who still managed to find & like the original 🥰)

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You climb the last flight of steps up to the fourth floor of your apartment building, stomping each stair into submission as you go. You’re still fuming from the blind date you just escaped. That is the absolute last time you ever let Erin set you up with one of her stock broker bro coworkers. You don’t care how hot or rich they are; you are done. Done, done, stick a fork in you. You love your bestie but by God does the woman have terrible taste in men or what.

Both of the pricks she handpicked for you were narcissistic know-it-alls with egos the size of Texas; a pair of swine in designer suits (who, to Erin’s credit, were smoking hot but that’s beside the point.) Once the pig from tonight decided that you weren’t trophy wife material he became far more interested in his phone than he was in you. And the last pig coddled you like you were a delicate, empty-headed damsel in distress who was lucky to be granted the honor of his company and conversation. You should’ve learned your lesson after that first failed date with Dalton Rockefeller-Vanderbilt (or whatever old money asshole last name he had) but you’ve been feeling lonely lately, especially after Ash introduced you to the fab guy she’s dating (an accountant with a perfectly plebeian name of Abe).

You glare down the hallway as you ascend enough to peek over the top of the stairs. Oh great, you think sourly, pursing your lips, your face hardening into a study in once I step inside that door I’m downing a shot of whiskey before turning up an overflowing glass of wine. You stare molten daggers at the tall, brawny guy in your sights. It’s the hot asshole who lives beside you; the last person you want to see tonight. He’s standing, hunched as ever, in front of his door, key poised for the deadbolt, wearing that same teal baseball cap and red hoodie that he never seems to take off. Your jaw tightens. You’ve tried to be nice to the brute—flashing him a smile, saying hello—but all you’ve ever gotten in return was a scowl, if he deigned to acknowledge you at all. Well, you’re fresh out of smiles tonight, jerk.

A flutter of unease tickles your tummy as you step onto the landing, into the narrow hallway with him, your back turned to the only exit, a six foot tall sus man between you and your apartment. You stand up straighter, squaring your shoulders, trying to make yourself look and feel taller. It’s late, and your building is eerily quiet while the city is abuzz with incessant sirens. The usual ensemble of notorious nutjobs are fighting yet another battle in their never-ending war with their rival nutjob who dresses up like a Bat.

Nutjobs like this guy…

You reach into your handbag and grab your keys in your fist, sliding the sharp ends between your fingers, ready to stab at some eyeballs. (You regrettably didn’t have room for your taser or mace in this bag so you have to improvise.) It’s your own fault that you suspect the guy’s a sociopath lying in wait to jump you. You made up a serial killer backstory for him—the result of one too many true crime podcast binges—despite not even knowing the guy’s name. You can’t help it. He gives off serious Ted Bundy vibes. Well, maybe that’s unfair to Ted. Ted would’ve at least smiled at you before bludgeoning you with a crowbar. This guy though…

This guy doesn’t have a scowl for you tonight. Actually, he seems startled by your sudden appearance in the hallway, dropping his keyring to the floor with a clatter that shatters the uneasy silence, causing you to jump. He ducks his red-hooded head between his hunched shoulders as you pass by, warily eying him, ready to stab those icy blue eyeballs of his if he tries anything.

You arrive at your door and take out your keyring, sighing with likely unnecessary relief as you slide the key into the lock. The guy’s probably a harmless weirdo incel who never learned how to talk to a woman. You steal one last peek over your shoulder at him, and watch as he stabs at his deadbolt with his key, hitting everywhere but the keyhole because, you realize with surprise, his hand is shaking too much to hit the target. This dude’s a disaster, you say to yourself as you turn the key in your own deadbolt. Then, as he misses the keyhole yet again, you hear yourself ask, “Do you need help?” in an annoyed tone. You didn’t mean to sound so bitchy but whatever. He shouldn’t be such a bitch to you.

He seems to jump at the sound of your voice, and his keyring clatters to the scuffed wood floor again. You stare back at him incredulously. Is he wasted or something? You wonder as that unsettling feeling creeps back in, prickling the hairs on the back of your neck. Your grip tightens around your doorknob as your pulse picks up speed.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles in response without sparing a glance in your direction.

“You don’t look fine,” you grumble back at him, the flames of irritation rekindled by his rudeness. Why should you care if the jerk’s too drunk or stoned to get in his apartment. Let his rude ass sleep on his doorstep. You shove open your door and take a stomped step across the threshold—you really need that glass of wine. Out of the corner of your eye you see him bend down to pick up his keys, then hear him groan like he’s in pain. You poke your head back around the doorframe, curious, and notice he’s doubled over now, clutching at his heaving chest, breathing hard and fast like he just ran a 5k or—your heart leaps inside your own chest—like he’s having a fucking heart attack. You watch, mouth agape, brows furrowed, as he sinks to his knees, a handful of red fabric still clenched in his trembling fist, then falls forward onto his free hand while he struggles to get control of his labored breathing. Crumpled on the floor like this, fighting for a breath, makes him seem so small, vulnerable, and not the least bit threatening; more like a boy who needs your help and less like an NFL quarterback who murders women on the side for fun.

Just go into your apartment, pour that extra large glass of merlot you’ve been fantasizing about since John Preston Anderson III introduced himself with his full name. Curl up on the sofa with In Cold Blood or a horde of shirtless, oiled, bronzed, and heartily-muscled Dothraki in your Game of Thrones rewatch. Who cares if the hot asshole serial killer next door has a heart attack? But you care apparently because you rush over to him instead, ignoring The Stranger Beside Me audiobook narrator inside your head warning you that this is a textbook Ted Bundy ploy, you idiot. You bend to help him, to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, and when your fingertips brush against him his entire body jerks away from you, like you zapped him with your taser. He throws up an arm to warn you off. “Don’t,” he snaps breathlessly before gulping down a lungful of air, then rasps: “Please don’t touch me.”

You bristle at his harsh rebuff but keep your temper in check since the guy’s clearly in crisis mode. “Should I call an ambulance? You look like you’re having a heart attack.”

“It’s… it’s not a heart attack… it just… feels like one.” He bites off each word, every breath precious. The fingers of his free hand dig into the hardwood floor.

“At least let me unlock your door for you,” you suggest shortly, biting your tongue before you can add: since you weren’t able to manage that yourself, then feeling guilty for even thinking that. What had the poor guy done to you tonight except happen to be standing in your shared hallway after some other asshole pissed you off?

He gives you a small, grudging nod so you retrieve his fallen keyring, wondering why a man needs so many damn keys. “The bronze one,” he grunts, as if he read your mind.

You unlock his door with the bronze key then push the door open while he drags himself to his feet behind you, huffing and groaning. The dimly lit apartment that greets you is sterile, spartan; that doesn’t help the serial killer vibes at all. One of the furnished units, you presume, since the furniture looks like it was plucked from the lobby of your building. The walls are white and bare; no art or posters or photos of him scowling beside a lover. And the place is spotless—you’d assume it was vacant if you didn’t know otherwise. A vision suddenly fills your mind, a vision of him on his knees, bright yellow dishwashing gloves pulled halfway up his muscular arms, an uncapped bottle of industrial bleach at his side as he scrubs at a puddle of blood while the lifeless corpse of the last girl who wandered in here lies wrapped up in blood-stained plastic behind him. Oh God, you even smell the bleach. But then you notice the stacks of paperback books here and there, the open sketch pad on the sofa with pencil-scribbled notes and drawings, some charging AirPods beside an iPad, another red hoodie—one that zips up the front—hanging from the back of a dining room chair, a gym bag, and atop the kitchen island, a rather happy-looking houseplant which, you have to admit, is kinda cute.

Before you can take in the rest of his place he staggers past you, bumping into your shoulder with a bruising force that knocks you sideways and nearly off your feet. Then with one last little wheeze, he topples over like an uprooted oak tree in a windstorm, smacking face first into the hardwood with a meaty thud that rattles the floor beneath you.

“Oh my God!” You squeal, covering your mouth with both hands.

A shot of adrenaline pumps through your veins, spurring you into action. You snatch your phone from your bag with rubber fingers, nearly flinging it aside in your panic, and frantically dial 9-1-1, forgetting all about the emergency shortcuts created for just such an occasion. Your stomach dips at the sight of the bulky body lying prone at your feet, still and silent as the grave. As the phone rings—the long-familiar trilling sound now seemingly drawn out as if it will stretch into eternity—you kneel beside him to check his pulse and see if he’s still breathing, praying he isn’t a corpse, when you spot something that knocks the breath from your lungs and stops your heart dead in its tracks. With a cold, trembling hand you push up the tail of his hoodie…

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” The operator asks by rote, voice booming through your phone’s speaker, but you barely hear it over the alarm bells clanging inside your head. You’re gaping at the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants, unable to form any sort of response around your heart lodged in your throat.

“Hello?” the operator asks irritably.

“Hi, uh,” you start with a squeak, eyes still fixed on the textured grip of that deadly weapon, but then smack your lips shut. What are the cops gonna think when they see that gun? And what if he’s wanted for a crime or something and you get him arrested? He said it wasn’t a heart attack, acted like this had happened to him before. You can always call back if he’s actually dead or dying…

Why the hell does it matter if he gets arrested?? Your brain shouts back at you. Why are you even here in the first place when there’s an unopened bottle of merlot waiting for you in the safety of your apartment only a few footsteps away, where there’s not an unresponsive armed man who’s built like a tank, who doesn’t even need the gun when he could snap your tiny neck with those massive hands of his? Could the universe give you any clearer signals that “you in danger, girl”? Have you learned absolutely nothing from hours upon hours of Karen and Georgia? “Stay sexy and don’t get murdered”—this guy isn’t even nice to you! Don’t you dare hang up that phone…

“Um, I’m so sorry. I thought my neighbor was having a heart attack but-but he’s fine actually. False alarm. Sorry to bother you!” Your words tumble out in a rush then you smash the “End Call” button before you can get questioned further or chewed out for wasting their time. In the back of your mind you hear the recording of this 9-1-1 call replaying on the My Favorite Murder episode starring you, before the hostess pair warns their listeners not to make the same foolish mistake you just made.

You sit back on your heels, clammy hands kneading your knees while that chunk of baleful metal glares back at you from his waistband, like a coiled rattlesnake peeking out from beneath a rock. Your mind is racing as fast as your heart through scenarios that all end with you getting shot. Then your hands are moving with minds of their own, fingers curling around the textured grip, getting your dainty fingerprints all over the murder weapon as you slip it free. It’s heavier than you expected, you note as you grip it tighter, careful not to get your finger anywhere near that trigger. Heavy, but not heavy enough for something that can end a life in an instant. The thought makes you shudder. You place the gun on the floor then give it a shove, eager to be rid of it, praying that the damn thing won’t go off automatically as it slides across the hardwood floor out of reach. You’ve never touched a gun before this moment and have zero interest in shooting yourself in the face.

Now your attention shifts back to the poor guy who's still out cold. You lay your hand on his back and feel its steady rise and fall. Still breathing, thank God. Then with a grunt of effort and a mighty heave you manage to flip him over on his back. Immediately your hand shoots back to cover your mouth and you suck in a horrified breath as his pale face, previously hidden beneath the shadow of his hat and hood, becomes visible in the lamplight.

You were expecting the weals on his chin and forehead, the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his bottom lip swelling from where it busted when he fell flat on his face. What you weren’t expecting to find was dried blood smeared across his cheek up to his ear, or the J-shaped scar beneath his eye that you’d noticed before (it’s unfortunately hard to miss, despite his best efforts to hide it) weeping beads of fresh blood from where someone traced over it with a knife you assume, carving deep into his skin. But it wasn’t the sight of the blood or the crimson J that pulled the gasp from your throat and made your stomach nosedive like you were on a rollercoaster. Nope, that was your reaction to the angry red furrows encircling his throat around his Adam's apple, deep indentations where someone wrapped rope or wire or cable around his neck so tight that it embedded in his skin; ligature marks from where someone fucking strangled him.

You grab your phone then pause, biting at your lip. Maybe you should call 9-1-1 again. What if his windpipe is crushed? What if that’s why he was breathing so hard, why he fainted? Those marks are so deep… he could be seriously injured. But if he was seriously injured, why had he returned to his apartment instead of going to the ER? It seems like he made the choice for you.

You open your phone’s browser and type: how to treat strangulation injuries, then quickly skim over the top result. Ice. That seems simple enough, you tell yourself, noting that you can clean his J cuts with soap and water, at least until he wakes up. And if he doesn’t wake up soon? Well, then you’ll call the cops. After all, he’s probably a law abiding citizen who’s licensed to carry that gun; a guy that you just pinned as another one of the nutjobs because you always get paranoid about every stranger you see after your true crime binges. In your defense, this is Gotham-fucking-City and you’re a young single lady who lives alone. You’d be a fool not to be paranoid.

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blazingstaro · 2 months

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Here's my little side AU!

It's not a serious story like Dreams of the Stars, and just something of my own for funsies! I don't intend to make a series of this, more-so just little drawings or mini comics every now and then. DotS is my main AU and comic series still!

This is my SkyCotL Mago AU, and it's a mix of different types of AUs in one. Genderbend? You got it. Roleswap? Absolutely! There's also a personality swap between characters, and what-if scenarios all jammed into one Kirby AU set in a noir/spacepunk + 30s-60s swing era

It's a lot of what-ifs put into fruition while having SkyCotL on the side! It's wholesome, adorable, and really sweet! No serious angst in this (for now), but some heartfelt troubles and such. Absolutely a comfort AU LOL

So here's the whole gang together! Not everyone's roles are swapped, I'll say— it's a mixed bag of this that and whatever because whoever said you had to stick to one particular thing in a swap-type AU HEHEHE

Quick look lore/info on each individual below:

Allow me to tell you a bit about each individual here, starting with our lead, Skye:

The Magolor of this Magoverse flavored AU, this is Magoloria— a rising star from Floralia. She sings, she dances, she's quite the hit for tons of musical shows across the galaxy! Fashionable, fun, and cute as a button, Skye is a pure-hearted and humble gal. She's a young adult for her species!

Both a genderbend and a personality swap! Her personality is swapped with Joronia's (pre-Sectonia). She's as sweet as can be, and enjoys making herself feel pretty with a vast wardrobe of outfits and costumes. Her taste in fashion is impeccable.

The events of Return to Dreamland occur quite a bit differently for Skye, but I'll save that for another post! But the main premise is that following a decisive battle, hopelessly possessed by the Master Crown's evil, Skye and the shattered Master Crown are spirited away to the decaying Kingdom of Sky (hence her nickname), a land time forgot. The power-drained mage must travel across the realms to reclaim her lost powers, which fell into the hands of the sleeping Elder spirits.

Here's Kirby and Bandana Waddle Dee! Their roles remain unchanged, but their personalities have swapped! Bandee is confident and outgoing, whereas Kirby's a bit less confident, but aspires to be great— despite the fact that he's the most powerful of the group and constantly Popstar's savior. He and Bandee are besties, like brothers!

King Malcom "Meta" Knytte, the presiding king of Dream Land! He's both role-swapped with Dedede, and his personality is swapped with Taranza. He's got the personality of a sopping wet kitten, but is low-key one of the most devastating warriors Dream Land has to offer. His Galaxia's design is more of the anime's than the games because good god I am not drawing the same Galaxia for two different AUs

King Malcolm is a great whistler and plays the piano, but has crippling stage fright. He owns a venue within his kingdom, which has been host to Skye's shows in recent years. He secretly mans backstage in disguise, so commoners won't recognize him (but it's somewhat obvious who he is). Rumor has it, he has an eye for one of the performers, and is secretly in love...

Sir Dedede of Dream Land! He serves the Kingdom of Dream Land. As it's quite obvious, he's role-swapped and personality swapped with Meta Knight, though there's still a sliver of King Dedede's original ego/pride in this guy. He's aloof, something of a loner, and doesn't talk much, but he has a tendency to take aspiring warriors under his wing. His latest apprentice is Bandana Waddle Dee, who serves under King Malcolm too!

And finally, the lovely couple— King Taranza and Queen Joronia! This is half a role-swap and a whole personality swap. Taranza's personality is swapped with Magolor, and Joronia has a partial of Dedede's personality, but stands alone on her own as well. Taranza also takes on Magolor's role as Manager of a theme park.

Though married for centuries, Taranza and Joronia are still in their honeymoon phase, madly in love and have profound crushes on each other!

The two have made their kingdom into an entertainment capital this side of the galaxy, bringing all walks of life onto Popstar to see a wide variety of shows! From circus acts, to live musical performances, and thrilling carnival rides and games, you name it, they got it!

This spicy pair act as parental figures for Skye, and took her under their wing when she was a lone, young girl selling papers to make do

AND THAT IS ALL FOR NOW! Just a basic look at everyone! I'll do more thorough info-posts later on 'em throughout the week 💜

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ckret2 · 2 months

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this is a little bit of a bizarre question but the way you manage to “flesh out” characters while keeping them consistent is really remarkable to me!

I’m having a lot of trouble making characters feel less ‘one-dimensional’ (especially female characters…It’s like my mind just draws a blank)

I understand it helps that most of the characters you’re writing have pre established personalities, aesthetics, etc. but I still feel like you manage to make the characters your own in a believable way.

do you have any advice for someone with this issue? if not, just know that I’m really really loving Bill-Goldilocks-Cipher and always look forward to the next chapter!!!

so the first thing you have to do is get deeply deeply obsessed with the story and then you have to go on walks fantasizing feverishly about the characters

But more serious answer:

Advice #1: Just take whatever you already know about the character and dig dig dig dig dig.

Take Wendy. She's the cool girl. Her character concept when she was designed was The Cool Girl. She's such a cool girl that by the end of the series she's symbolically represented by a bag of ice. She also says in one episode that she's NOT laid back, she's stressed all the time, because of her family.

Why is a 24/7 stressed teenager trying to give off an air of being cool and chill? Why did she start? What's she getting out of it? Why does she feel the pressure to maintain that facade? If she's so stressed, what's going on inside her head when she interacts with people? Her friends? Her boss? In one episode, she responds to both a request to hang out at a carnival and a request to start a romantic relationship with "yeah, I guess so." It's so passive. Why's she so passive in her relationships? Especially when she's so outwardly tough and assertive? What's the source of this side of her that just goes along with what other people suggest with seemingly no interest of her own—again, including a ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP? How does this relate to her being the "cool girl"? How does this relate to her deliberate decision to portray herself as "the cool girl"? In one episode she gets a scrape and the FIRST THING she does is forcefully tell Dipper NOT to freak out—why is her priority hastening to reassure the people around her before taking care of herself? She's got three younger brothers—is that how she interacts with them? Is one of them scared of blood? Does she see Dipper like one of her little brothers? Elder sisters often get handed the responsibility to act like mini-moms at young ages—did that happen to Wendy? Her mom is GONE, did that INCREASE the pressure on her? Is that why her family stresses her? What's it like in that house? Being pushed into acting like a mini-mom is a very traditionally feminine role—nurturing—which is at odds with Wendy's kinda soft butch presentation and way of speaking/acting—but is it at odds with Wendy's overall behavior? Following along with what the guys do rather than deciding for herself, passively accepting romantic propositions rather than pursuing someone she actually wants? Is she comfortable in those roles or does she feel pushed into them? Does it grate at her? Does she ever want to act assertive rather than just appear like an assertive person? Why do we never see her "we're WOMEN and we TAKE WHAT WE WANT" side more than once—and is it significant that she only pulls that out when there aren't any guys around? Does being the cool girl—supportive, accepting, nurturing, passive—chafe at her? Why's she do it?

Just keep digging. Overanalyze those tiny character details. Tie them together. Become the "I've connected the two dots" "You didn't connect shit" "I've connected them" meme. You can, will, and must connect the two dots. Treat every character like a mystery to figure out.

But your starting point is always whatever you already know about the character. You're building off of that foundation. You throw NOTHING out the window, buster—EVERY detail is important. You're not just wholesale making shit up—you're extrapolating wildly from whatever you already have. Making shit up always feels unanchored and vague. I said in an ask a few days ago that I headcanon Wendy likes that "stomp clap hey" hipster music genre. I didn't grab that randomly. I grabbed it because when we see her bedroom, she's got a poster with a banjo on it; she's super stoked to go to the Woodstick festival, and when she shows some of the featured indie bands to Dipper she focuses on two of the hipsteriest-sounding ("Scarves Indoors," "Wood Grain on Everything") and the apparent headlining band is the Handlebar Bros (just look at them); and she desperately wants to move to Portland, which in 2012 was the hipster capitol of North America—that's the culture she wants to escape to. No making shit up!! BUILD OFF WHAT YOU HAVE.

And Advice #2: you're telling a story, here. You have a plotline. Shape your characters to serve the story you're telling. What kind of a story are you telling? I'm telling a story about the destructive consequences of being a "special" kid—gifted kids, child celebrities, pageant kids, kids pushed to fill adult roles too young—the perfectionism, the burnout, the fear that anything short of excellence is insufficiency, the need for external validation, seeking love through fame rather than intimacy. When I'm looking at shallow characters and seeing how to fit them into the story, I'm prodding at them to see whether anything we know about them holds the potential to comment on themes like that—and then, if they do, that gives me an direction to dig in that already personally fascinates me, because it helps me weave this character into the story I already want to tell. If a character doesn't inherently carry any of those themes—then what can I do with the contrast between this character and the others?

And then, sometimes, I'm telling a story about two guys getting hunted down by a tooth fairy that desperately wants to steal one's teeth and a dentist that's willing to do anything she says but not motivated to furiously avenge her when she's defeated. Now I've got to make up two characters completely from scratch, BUT I don't have to make them up aimlessly. I already know the exact shapes they need to be fill their assigned positions in the story—I know what they need to do to make the story work—and now I can build them from the edges in, to make them the kinds of people they need to be to perform the actions I want to serve the plot they're in. And from there I can build them just like any character—I take the things they need to be, the things I already know about them (the dentist obeys the fairy but doesn't want to avenge her) and I dig dig dig (why would he not want to avenge her if he's so obedient? Does he obey her out of obligation but not true loyalty? Why? What kind of a person does this make him?)

And the tl;dr of all of that advice is:

so the first thing you have to do is get deeply deeply obsessed with the story and then you have to go on walks fantasizing feverishly about the characters

#anonymous #ask #about my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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messenger-of-stupidity · 1 year

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Five Random Redacted Headcanons

Okay i havent really slept for a solid amount of time of sleep for like 48 hours now but i need yall to hear me out on this.

Redacted Masterlist

OKAYREADYSETGOMOTHERFUCKERS!

1) The Shaw Pack has a random XXL sweater that just circulates around. No one is sure who the original owner is, nor if the OG owner is still in the pack or alive. But whenever one of them is having a rough day, whoever had the sweater previously will bring it to them. It’s a communal comfort object. It also has like... pasta sauce stains and other food stains from the pack’s comfort food and yes it frustrates David to no end that he can’t get the stains out. The design has long since been washed away.

Optional: Once the mates (especially Baabe because they are artsy I can feel it in my endocrine system.) get their hands on the sweater, they write little encouraging and comforting phrases for the next person. After a few cycles in the washing machine the ink fades away but the sentiment remains.

2) On Darlin and Sam’s second legit date that wasn’t Darlin bleeding out or having a breakdown or anything, they dragged Sam into the woods. He was slightly concerned that they were going to kill him because it was giving off major serial killer vibes. But it turns out they set up a big hammock between two trees and the two of them spent most of the night cuddled up together in the hammock watching TV on Sam’s phone (William pays for unlimited data and he can get signal in the woods) and eating gummy worms.

3) Pre-turned Lovely had a whole arsenal of electricity related jokes that William supplied to them to use on VIncent if he ever got on their nerves. I imagine it went something like this:

Vincent: -Which is why I’m right, Lovely.

Lovely: Well you know what I’m right about?

Vincent: What?

Lovely: How many DAMN students it takes to change a lightbulb.

Vincent: How many?

Lovely: One. Me.

The jokes aren’t good or funny, but they got to act like it was a big deal and if anyone in the Solaire clan heard them, they would hype Lovely up and make Vincent feel like the silly bbg that he is.

4) One of the times that Aaron pissed Smartass off (post-confession) they purposefully dumped a bag of chips and packages of crackers on the bed and stomped all over it to make sure the crumbs were really small. It was only after this that they remembered that they sleep in the same bed as Aaron and would suffer as well. They have yet to emotionally recover from this.

5) David and Angel have a little chalkboard that counts the days between Angel being an unapologetic flirt. The counter has stayed at a consistent zero for the past seven months because Angel has been texting David daily to ask for nudes. He refuses to send them, but they persist for the hope that they might convince him that the only way their three brain cells will survive is if they see a Davey nude. He tried to get them to stop asking by threatening to make an onlyfans but they only hyped him up for it because it meant they could get nudes for sure then by paying money.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted hc #redacted headcanons #redacted shaw pack #redacted darlin #redacted darling #redacted sam #redacted vincent #redacted lovely #redacted aaron #redacted smartass #redacted david #redacted angel #redacted asher #redacted baabe #redacted milo #redacted sweetheart

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beatificwrites · 10 months

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✦✦ CARLOS OLIVEIRA SECRET HOUSEHUSBAND!AU HEADCANNON

requested by: @14chira

content: pre-established marriage, silly cuteness, implied brazilian!carlos bc of his last name, fem!reader