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philomenie · 4 months ago

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KILLING ME SOFTLY

Hitman!Jolly - Part 1

CN murder, violence, sex, organized crime, blood, 18+

@jilliemiw86 @nojoyontheburn @reyadawn 😘

ONE

Jolly breathes in and out calmly, his pulse has slowed down, he is highly concentrated.

His left eye is closed and he is looking through the scope of his Barrett M82 with his right.

He has no idea how long he has been lying on this cursed roof, he has completely lost track of time.

Patience and calm are two immensely important things in his job, if you can call what he does a job.

But he doesn't have time to think about that right now, it would only distract him unnecessarily and distraction would be poison, if not his own death, because the person he is supposed to take out is extremely careful and surrounded by dozens of bodyguards.

But not so careful after all, otherwise he wouldn't have angered Kolja, the son of Russian mafia boss Semjon.

Jolly doesn't know what exactly happened, but Kolja was fuming with rage and Semjon has tasked him with getting rid of Kolja's problem.

Once again.

Jolly doesn't think much of Kolja, Semjon's puppy, but he does of Semjon. He'd be crazy if he didn't. Jolly has been around far too long for that.

In the organization, he is only known as the Swede. The man for special tasks.

Semjon has enough men for the rough stuff, Jolly is more responsible for the inconspicuous elimination of unpleasant people and he's good at it. Very good, in fact.

Jolly tenses as the dark limousine he has been waiting for all this time turns the corner.

He closes his eyes briefly and concentrates.

The limousine stops in front of the hotel with the posh restaurant where his assignment is going today.

The doors of the limousine open and a man of about 30 gets out. Broad, handsome, perfectly dressed. He holds out his hand, waiting.... There must have been someone else in the car.

:readmore:

A slender hand appears from inside, then a slender leg tucked into tight black leather pants and black high heels.

A woman gets out who Jolly recognizes immediately. Tatjana. One of Kolja's favorites.

Fuck, that's why you have to lose your life, Jolly thinks to himself, because you're fucking Kolja's playmate. Better you had left your cock in your pants, sighs Jolly mentally.

Tatjana hooks herself up to the man and the four bodyguards shield her and look around.

The moment they climb the steps to the hotel, it happens. Two dull shots, perfectly muffled by the silencer, echo through the air and hit the man's head, who immediately collapses.

Tatjana screams shrilly and is beside herself....

Jolly pays no further attention to the scene below him, routinely and quickly packs up his rifle, stands up and hides the rifle in the transport case under his black coat.

He is dressed completely in black. Coat, trousers, turtleneck sweater, shoes. He calmly puts on his leather gloves and collects the two cartridge cases, puts the boxes back where he was lying and makes his way to the stairwell. He enters late and when he sees no one, he continues on his way. He walks down the stairs without hurrying, putting a black baseball cap on his head and sunglasses on his nose.

His long dark hair is combed back tightly and tied into a knot at the back of his neck so that it doesn't get in the way of his work.

As he steps out onto the street, there is a great deal of hustle and bustle on the opposite side of the road. People are gawping and the first police car is just arriving.

You're quick this time, boys, Jolly thinks to himself and has to smile.

He continues on his way to the parking garage where his car is parked. As he sits in it, he dials Semjon's number, which he has saved under 1.

When the phone is answered, he says just one sentence, "All done!"

"Hmm," hums the other end and Semyon hangs up.

At a red light, he briefly considers where he should go. Back to the organization or back to his apartment here.

The decision is taken from him without further ado when his cell phone rings. He grimaces in disgust. Kolja.

He considers ignoring the call. Kolya has nothing to say to him, as he is not yet a full member of the mafia. But he is Semjon's puppy, his crown prince, his successor, since his two older brothers were killed.

It always happens to the wrong people, Jolly thinks. Kolya's brothers Demyan and Artyom would both have made worthy successors to Semyon. Kolya, on the other hand, is a weakling and that is precisely what makes him unpredictable and dangerous, Jolly knows.

He also knows that if he doesn't answer the phone, Kolya will be annoyed, so Jolly answers with a sigh.

"Well done!" Kolja praises him.

"Hmm" grumbles Jolly in response.

"Come to the club, I've got a reward for you!" grins Kolja.

Jolly sighs, "I actually wanted to go home, I don't feel like partying right now!"

"Don't be a spoilsport, come here!" Kolja urges him.

Jolly rolls his eyes, he knows Kolja's parties and today he just doesn't feel like it.

"You won't regret it!" Kolja tempts him.

"Okay, but let me change first. I'll come later!" Jolly squeezes out.

"Great! I'll wait for you later!" Kolja nods and hangs up.

FUCK!!! Jolly angrily hits the steering wheel, so he can forget the evening.

Jolly parks his car in his parking space in the underground garage and walks to the elevator. The apartment he lives in here belongs to the Russian mafia, just like him.

No one would have guessed that this is the case, because the apartment is in an average high-rise building in an average neighborhood in New York and is therefore inconspicuous, which is exactly what Jolly and his boss want.

The fact that both belongs to Semjon is another story.....

When the elevator stops on his floor, he gets out and walks to his apartment, unlocks the door and is about to go in when the door next to him opens and Olivia, his neighbor, steps out.

Their eyes meet.

Olivia's mouth curls into a small smile, revealing her dimples and making her full red lips appear even fuller. Her dark green eyes shimmer like emeralds.

She has pinned her brown curls up in a casual bun and is wearing blue loose jeans and a short white shirt, with a black leather jacket, boots and her large leather bag over it, as Jolly notes with a quick glance.

This woman is a problem.

"Closing time?" she wants to know from him.

"Hmm," Jolly nods and actually wants to go back to his apartment, but the rest of the words come to his lips as if automatically.

"And you? Start of shift?" he asks.

"Yes, night duty!" sighs Olivia, "Emergency room... I hope it will be quiet!"

"Wish you luck that it is!" he mutters harshly.

"Thank you!" she smiles, gives him a quick wave and heads for the elevator.

Jolly looks after her with a burning stare.

FUCK!!! This woman is definitely a problem for him!

He normally has no contact with his neighbors. The fact that it came to this with Olivia, of all people, was his own stupid mistake.

He should have brushed her off when she knocked on his door to inform him that there had been water damage and the water had been turned off for a few hours.

He should have opened the front door just a crack, not so wide that she could see the blood on his hand, which came from a stab wound he'd just sustained on a job.

But when Olivia saw his bleeding hand and then the stab, the cursed knife went through the back of his hand, it was too late.

Resolutely, she had simply ignored him and given him a choice. Either she takes him to an emergency room or she takes care of the whole thing.

Jolly has to grin at the memory, Olivia hadn't even asked where the stab wound had come from, but had simply grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back to her apartment.

He still has to shake his head at this reckless action. Simply taking a stranger into her apartment just because he was bleeding. He could have been anyone with bad intentions. They didn't even know each other at the time.

But Jolly now knows that's typical of Olivia. She has too big a heart and helps wherever she can.

That's why she became a doctor, to help people.

They couldn't be more different.

Olivia tries to save lives and he takes lives.... A real irony, Jolly snorts and looks again at Olivia, who is just getting into the elevator, then looks at his hand with the scar, which is slowly fading.

He's told her something about a fight, about rioting idiots who wanted to break up the club he happened to be in.

Olivia didn't question it any further. Never asked him what he did for a living.... No, that's not true. She once asked him if he only plays the guitar for his own pleasure or if he does it professionally. But since he answered evasively, she didn't ask any more questions.

Jolly slams the front door behind him and puts his rifle against the wall to get rid of his coat and baseball cap. As he walks, he loosens his hair, massages his scalp lightly and takes off his turtleneck sweater.

Sighing, he stands in his bedroom. God knows what he would do just to be able to have some peace and quiet now, cook himself something, read something, play the guitar. NO, he has to go to fucking Kolja in his fucking club.

Annoyed, he gets rid of the rest of his clothes and goes into the bathroom, gets into the shower and lets the hot water rush over his body. Moaning pleasantly, he slowly relaxes.

His muscular body is covered in tattoos and scars. Jolly can still remember the cause of each one. Especially the one on his back.....

Shaking his head, he dispels the thought, turns off the water and dries himself off.

Naked, he walks back to his bedroom and grabs some fresh clothes from his wardrobe.

He chooses a black tank top, black suit trousers and a black shirt.

Once he is dressed, he puts on his silver chain with the dagger, a memento of his father, and fastens the earring with the hanging cross to his ear.

Jolly looks discontentedly in the mirror, that should work, he thinks to himself and finally puts his top hair in a bun so that it doesn't fall into his face.

He doesn't want to be irritated by anything when he's with Kolja. Kolja is not only a weakling, but also a sneaky snake.

Before he leaves, he stows his rifle in the secret compartment in his cupboard. He looks around. Nothing in his apartment indicates that he works as a contract killer for the Russian mafia, and he wants to keep it that way.

Arriving at the club, Jolly parks in the private parking lot for special guests and mafia members... Next to Kolja's car, a souped-up Mercedes AMG GT, is the car of Artur, Kolja's right-hand man and man for the rough stuff and just as much of an idiot as Kolja himself, in Jolly's opinion. The other cars belong to Kolja's personal entourage.

Wonderful, he thinks sarcastically, the evening can only be a success!

As he walks towards the entrance, he is greeted by the two bouncers and waved in.

There's not much going on inside the club yet, which is no wonder as it's only 9 pm and it doesn't officially open until 11 pm.

One of the bartenders nods to Jolly and points upstairs. Kolja and his entourage are on the second floor, in the VIP area. As usual.

Jolly takes two steps at once and can hear the increasingly loud voices of men and women, their laughter and shrieks.

Fantastic, most of them are drunk or high on drugs.

When Jolly comes into Kolja's field of vision, he falls silent. Then he raises his hands, stands up and walks towards him.

"JOLLY!" he shouts and takes Jolly in his arms, "The Swede has proved once again that you can rely on him!"

Jolly has to suppress the inner urge not to push Kolja away, instead he nods, "Wasn't really a problem for me!"

"Ohhh, he's modest too!" roars Kolja and puts an arm around Jolly's shoulder, which looks a bit strange as Kolja is about half a head shorter than Jolly. Kolja resembles his mother, is just as straw-blond as she is and has water-blue eyes

The others join in his laughter.

"Why exactly am I here?" Jolly wants to know, hoping that this will pass quickly and he can disappear again.

"You've earned a reward. That asshole was a wanker! Made eyes at Tatjana...." explains Kolja with a grin, "Celebrate with us, Swede, you won't regret it!"

FUCK, that's exactly what Jolly was afraid of. But what else can he do?

So he sits down out of necessity.

"What do you want to drink?" Kolja wants to know.

"Beer's fine!" Jolly nods, which makes the others laugh again.

"Beer for the man then!" explains Kolja and waves one of the girls in charge of the drinks over.

Jolly leans back, takes a sip from his bottle and watches everything out of the corner of his eye.

Kolja's bodyguards are standing by in the background, as always. Semjon doesn't let his puppy leave his fortress for a second without adequate protection. He has made this mistake twice and paid for it with the death of his older sons. There is probably no better guarded person in all of New York than Kolja, the crown prince of the Russian mafia, successor to Semjon Dimitrovich Volkov.

Sighing, he takes another sip as a hand rests on his thigh and squeezes.

"Nadja!" he grumbles.

"Swede... or should I say Joakim? Jolly?" smiles a dark female voice.

Jolly looks at her, "You know it!" he growls, tired of the games.

"Hmmm, Jolly....." she lets his name slip across her lips, "You never told me why you have that nickname...."

Jolly shrugs his shoulder, "Why too...." he blocks.

The dark blonde woman scoots closer to him, rests her elbow on the back of the couch and puts one leg over his thigh.

"Nadja...." sighs Jolly, "I'm too tired for your games today!"

"What games?" she whispers, stroking his cheek.

Jolly holds her wrist tightly, "This one!" he growls dangerously.

"This isn't a game!" she breathes, kissing his lips, "I'm part of your reward!"

Joakim raises an eyebrow. Looks at Kolja, who grins at him.

FUCK, that too.... Not that he doesn't like Nadja, he and she have already gotten to know each other's bodies more than extensively, but right now at the behest of Kolja, so to speak, BEFORE his entourage, no thanks!!!

Before Jolly can get up, Nadja puts her hand on his crotch and holds him down.

"FUCK, Nadja, cut the crap!" he gasps, startled, and is about to pull her hand away when Hanna, a new girl that Kolja has taken a liking to, joins them and straddles Jolly's thighs.

She opens her eyes lasciviously, "Let's have some fun together!"

Jolly presses his jaws together. The offer is tempting, he has to admit, but he's certainly not going to be paraded in front of all these people.

So he takes another deep swig from his beer bottle before replying, "You two, then?"

Nadja strokes his cheek, "Are you unhappy?" she teases him.

Jolly shakes his head, "No.... But I don't like being put on show!" he growls softly, "I'm certainly not putting on a show for Kolja and his mob!" and looks Nadja sharply in her dark blue eyes.

Nadja's lips curl up, a pearly laugh comes out of her mouth, "I knew it!" she giggles, then turns to Kolja triumphantly, "I was right, you lost!"

Kolja shrugs his shoulders, "Even I can be wrong!" then looks at Hanna, "Come here, Milyy (darling), our Swede is a man of principle!" which makes the others laugh again.

"You'd better have some too!" he growls quietly, so that only Nadja can hear, who then punches him in the side.

"Quiet!" she hisses, "Or do you want to upset him? Lose your life?"

Jolly's eyes flash as he looks at her, but then he just shakes his head, "Not today, anyway!" he mutters.

"You're really weird sometimes... you know that?" Nadja shakes her head.

"Could be...." Jolly replies, stretching and finishes his beer, putting the bottle down on the floor.

When he looks up again, Artur is standing in front of him holding out a small suitcase, "For you!" he growls. Artur can't stand Jolly any more than Jolly can stand Artur, which is because Jolly has clearly shown the braggart WHO is the better shot by shooting half his ear off in a duel forced on him by Kolja.

Jolly looks at him, then looks at his ear, raises an eyebrow and takes the case from his hand.

"SUKIN SYN (son of a bitch)!!!" spits Artur in front of him, but is immediately whistled back by Kolja, "Artur.... Shut up!"

Artur turns away angrily and sits back down in his seat. The beefy, black-haired man looks at Jolly with narrowed eyes.

"Open up!" Kolja demands of Jolly.

Jolly opens the small suitcase and is astonished. In front of him is a brand new Heckler & Koch handgun in black. Jolly reverently takes it out of the padding, examines it and picks it up.

It is heavy, has a good weight to it and immediately feels familiar.

"A custom-made gun, just for you! It's supposed to be the best pistol at the moment," Kolja smiles patronizingly, "You've earned it, my friend!"

Jolly looks at the gun again and sees that it has a J engraved on it. Not big, just barely recognizable.

"So, what do you think?" Kolja wants to know.

Jolly nods his head, "Thank you!" he then presses out, "A really nice weapon!"

Kolja bursts out laughing, "You're really amusing, Swede!" he gasps, "Put it away, drink with us!"

Jolly puts the gun away and is handed another beer by one of the girls.

Nadja leans over to him, "Don't mess with him!" she warns him.

Jolly looks at her, then nods, "I'm not completely tired of life!"

"Hmmm, maybe we should do something about that?!" she whispers in his ear and bites his earlobe.

The sharp pain makes Jolly flinch and grab Nadja by her upper arms, "Careful!" he growls.

He knows that he is playing a dangerous game with Nadja, as she is the daughter of Semjon's right-hand man Oleg and also Semjon's goddaughter.

But Nadja sets her own rules and Jolly is still highly favored by Semjon and is sometimes regarded and referred to as his foster son. So what goes on between the two is tolerated. However, neither of them can allow it to go any further, which is more than all right with Jolly.

A woman simply has no place in his life, even if he sometimes secretly wishes she did.... To get out and live a peaceful life with his wife and possibly children after all the violence and killing.

Jolly is aware that this will remain a pipe dream. NOBODY gets out of the Russian mafia and returns to a normal life, and he certainly doesn't.

"Hmm, maybe we should find a quiet corner here!" Nadja breathes into his ear and runs her hands over his chest, running her thumbnail over his nipples, which makes him gasp.

"Everyone's watching us!" Jolly grumbles.

Nadja turns to the others, then looks back at Jolly, "So what?" she giggles, "They ALL know we're fucking anyway! Don't you like an audience?"

"Nadja....." sighs Jolly, "Not today...... We should stop this!"

Nadja rolls her eyes and sits down next to Jolly, reaching for her champagne glass and downing the contents down her throat, watching him through narrowed eyes.

"You're a spoilsport!" she grumbles and gets up and sits down with the other girls.

Jolly would like to leave now, but he can't without offending Kolja, so he stays and waves to the girl to bring him another beer.

The evening progresses and the club fills up. Loud beats blast through the speakers and the air is thick with cigarette smoke, perfume and sweat.

Nadja and her friends dance to the music in front of him and the other men. Meanwhile, Kolja and Hanna have disappeared into Kolja's private rooms.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jolly sees Artur still looking at him grimly.

Asshole, Jolly thinks to himself and finishes his beer, gets up because he wants to go to the toilet.

Just as he is washing his hands, the door opens and Nadja stands behind him, locking the door.

Jolly turns to her with his eyebrows furrowed, but before he can say anything, Nadja is with him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him greedily, forcing her tongue between his lips. Jolly's mouth opens willingly and he runs his large, tattooed hands over her body, then pushes the silky material of the hint of nothing she's wearing tonight up over her hips.

Nadja arches hungrily towards him.

His hands grip her bottom, pushing her even closer to him.

Nadja pulls his shirt off his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor.

Her hands roam over his muscular arms, his strong hands. Jolly's fingers close around hers, pushing her arms back and he greedily kisses her neck, the sensitive crook of her neck.

Nadja moans excitedly, presses herself harder against Jolly and can clearly feel his excitement in his pants.

Jolly easily grips Nadja's wrists with one hand, the other plays with the leg opening of her panties. His fingers slowly move on to her mons veneris, caressing the delicate skin there, moving on to her folds, stroking them gently.

Nadja moans and wants to free her hands, but Jolly holds them firmly in his grip.

"So impatient and so needy!" he shakes his head and his eyes darken.

He pushes her panties aside, runs his fingers between her folds, finds her bud and begins to stimulate it with circular movements.

Nadja trembles, pushes against his touch, gasps "More!"

Jolly pushes his fingers inside her, widening her for him, not surprised that Nadja is now completely wet.

He laughs softly and skillfully twists his fingers inside her, making her moan loudly. He knows that if he continues at this pace, it won't take him long to make Nadja come through his fingers.

And he's right, not long before she starts to tremble, pressing herself against him and only able to make inarticulate sounds, ending in a long moan as her inner walls clench around his fingers and her orgasm comes over her.

Jolly doesn't give her time to recover, even as she leans against him, trembling and whimpering, he opens his pants with one hand, pulls out his hard cock, strokes up and down a few times and then grabs Nadja, turns her towards the sink and bends her down so that she has to hold on tight to keep from falling forward.

Almost hastily, he pushes her pantie aside and thrusts into her without further warning, causing her to cry out in surprise.

Jolly claws his hands into her hips and starts to thrust into her at a merciless pace. Nadja has no problem withstanding it, lifts her head and looks at Jolly triumphantly in the mirror. Their eyes meet and Jolly knows that this is exactly what Nadja wanted all along and that he is once again just her willing plaything.

Angry with himself for getting carried away again, he thrusts into her even more relentlessly until his own orgasm rushes through him and he bends down on her back, panting, resting his forehead on her back.

After a few seconds, Nadja wriggles out from under him, casually takes a couple of paper towels, hands two of them to Jolly and uses the rest to wipe his semen off her thighs and vagina.

Jolly watches her silently, cleans himself up and then zips up his pants.

Nadja stands in front of him smiling, leans over and wants to kiss him, but Jolly turns away, "I was serious earlier... we should really stop this!" he growls.

"Why? Because of Sergei?" Nadja wants to know.

"Like what?!" hisses Jolly, "You'll be officially engaged in two weeks!"

"It's arranged and you know it!" explains Nadja, annoyed, "It doesn't have to change anything between us! We can still have our fun!"

"No.... I don't want that anymore!" Jolly shakes his head.

Nadja raises her eyebrow mockingly, "Oh, I just realized THAT!"

"Leave it!" growls Jolly and goes to the door, unlocks it and storms out.

Clenching his teeth, he picks up his present, then steps up to Kolja, "Thank you for everything... I'd like to go home now. Your father wants to see me tomorrow. Probably a new job!" he explains.

Kolja nods, "OK, don't let yourself be stopped!".

Relieved, Jolly goes to the stairs and runs down, pushing his way through the crowds of people in the club to the exit.

When he finally stands outside the club in the fresh air, he breathes in and out deeply. Damn, his life is fucked up and complicated, he thinks.

#joakim jolly karlsson #joakim karlsson #jolly karlsson #jolly #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #joakim karlsson fanfiction #jolly fanfiction #fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction

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joelswritingmistress · 1 year ago

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Last Halloween: Chapter 12

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

The atmosphere was exactly as you had hoped. The late afternoon brought an unexpected chill to the air as you and Joel strolled around the little farm, hand-in-hand.

The place had its own unique trait in that half of it was in your town and half was in the town over. People often took pictures at a sign beside the brewery side of the farm that showed off the invisible town line.

You walked by to see a man taking a picture of the woman he accompanied with one foot in one town and one foot in the other. It was silly fun but you thought it was still nice.

As Joel held a giant, wooden door open that lead into the cider brewery called, Far From the Tree, you looked right at him and tugged lightly on the bill of his trucker-style baseball hat.

"This is a good look for you," you told him with a smirk. "I haven't seen you in a hat before."

Joel tugged on the front of the orange beanie cap you wore, "This is a good look for you," he countered with a grin. "It's cute."

You kissed him as you strolled into the big, open room, feeling him link up his fingers with yours again as you passed by.

Wooden tables, some high tops and some low, were scattered about neatly in the oversized space. A fireplace was roaring near the far side where people had already claimed the three leather couches in front of it.

"What are we thinking here?" Joel asked, heading toward the bar where two men and a woman were busy pouring their showcased ciders for customers.

"Hmm.." you rested a finger over your lips as you scanned the chalk boards above. The atmosphere, oddly enough, reminded you a bit of the coffee shop. "I love honeycrisp apples so that one looks good." You pointed to the board. "But the Granny Smith one looks good too."

"Oh, you're a honeycrisp girl." Joel made a face that left you chuckling.

"Is there a problem with that?" You asked, playful narrowing your eyes at him.

"I don't know. I heard the honeycrisp apples are kind of the snobs of the apple world."

"Snobby apples?"

"Oh yeah. They're like a dollar more than the rest. I feel like the honeycrisp people look down at us Gala and Macintosh lovers."

You began to laugh out loud. "Well maybe you just need better taste in apples."

Joel grinned and you leaned in to kiss him again before leaning against him as you both continued to take in the menu.

"I might do s flight," he said, "Try a handful of them and then decide what I like best."

"Good idea." You nodded and then looked over at him. "Are you boycotting the honeycrisp cider?"

"I definitely am." He chuckled and then the two of you put in your orders, sampling as many as you could between the two of you. Joel handed over his debit card, practically swatting your hand away as you tried to give the bartender yours. "You can leave the tab open," he told them.

"Joel Miller!" You said his full name in a motherly fashion. "It's supposed to be my treat."

"Nope." That's all he said, still grinning as you grabbed your little trays of beer. "Inside or outside?"

You glanced around the room. As cozy as it was, you wanted to feel the chill of autumn. Through the windows you could see some vacant seating by the outdoor fire pits.

"Outside," you decided.

Joel trailed you through the room and the chill made you shudder as you exited, leaving the warmth of the indoor area behind. Just beyond the patio was a haunted corn maze. Children and adults, alike, were handing over tickets to take on the challenge of making it through.

You sat down with a content sigh in a wooden Adirondack chair and Joel sat beside you. You both places the flights down on the ledge of the firepit and reached for one of the four little glasses.

Joel sighed even louder than you did. "This is the most relaxed I've felt in awhile." He sipped on his first cider and smacked his lips together in approval. You followed his lead.

"Oh that's good. Very sweet," you said.

"Do you want to carve a pumpkin?" Joel asked, motioning to a giant pumpkin patch fifty or so feet away.

"Those are honestly the biggest pumpkins I've ever seen," you said with a laugh. "I bet they're like twenty-five dollars."

"You know I've kind of been dreading Halloween," Joel said to you. "This whole Halloween season, actually. I had always enjoyed October before everything that happened last year."

You gave his hand a sympathetic squeeze.

"But you're making it all feel alright again." Joel had a half-grin on his face. "So, let's spend the twenty-five bucks and get one. Or two."

"I love seeing you happy," you told him. "It bothered me to see you come in to the shop sitting alone and just.." you shrugged. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm even bringing that up."

"No, it's okay. I was a little surprised when you asked me to do something that first time." Joel seemed to cringe a bit. "I probably came off as an asshole, huh?"

"Not at all." You shook your head. "You have every right to react the way you did."

Joel made another face and you grinned. "Does it matter what happened to lead us up to where we are now?"

"I guess not," he agreed.

You leaned in and touched your lips to his once and then sat back in your chair. "I love the fall."

Joel reached into his pocket a removed a twenty dollar bill. "After the cider we could always do the haunted hayride; or is that too cliche?"

You downed the first little glass of cider and smirked at Joel. "We better finish before the six o'clock shuttle takes off."

He looked at his phone and took one of his ciders like a shot. "One down, three to go."

"We have fifteen minutes," you challenged, reaching for your next mini glass.

"I don't think you're supposed to take these like a shot," Joel told you with a laugh. "Like other things.." he raised his eyebrows, "You're supposed to savor it."

Purposely, Joel took a slow sip from the second cider glass while making eye contact with you and then drew a finger across his lips. It made you smirk at him.

"I guess.. like other things," you echoed his words. "We aren't on a timed schedule."

"There's always another hay ride."

"Mmm.." you raised your glass and tapped it against his.

Taking your time was the best bet. You didn't make the six o'clock ride but both of you were just in time for six thirty.

Joel helped you up into the back of a wagon littered with hay bales and the two of you sat near the back.

There were some older children of maybe thirteen or fourteen on board, some kids were closer to twenty and the rest were adults.

After the warnings about the ride being too scary for children under thirteen, the bumpy hay ride started. You were perfectly buzzed from the cider and beaming with the feelings of new love amidst the most cliche but perfect fall evening you could imagine. That amplified as you laughed, but hid against Joel's shoulder when the headless horseman appeared from behind the trees on your ride through the woods. He whipped his sword, making 'woosh' sounds as he sliced through air.

"That was a real horse!" You exclaimed with a laugh.

Joel secured his arm around you and you both laughed.

The bumpy ride over a bridge to "get away" from the horseman was a nice touch. It lead the way through a zombie-infested graveyard, a werewolf den and more trick-or-treat specialties.

"These kids did a great job," you concluded at the end, still clinging to Joel's side as you made your way off of the back of the oversized wagon.

"Scared?" He teased, looking over at you as you squeezed his hand.

"No." You laughed and kissed as you walked your way to the pumpkin patch to retrieve a pair of pumpkins. "I say we have a contest."

"A contest?" Joel laughed lightly. "What kind?"

"Whoever carves.." you tossed a giant pumpkin up onto you shoulder. ".. the best pumpkin."

"Gets what?" He took one step closer.

"Whatever they want." You raised your eyebrows.

"Okay," Joel agreed, glancing around for the perfect pumpkin. "You got yourself a deal."

The two of you roamed around a bit more, grabbed a growler of cider for the road and paid for the pumpkins before heading back toward Joel's house.

"Are you going to put the jack-o-lanterns out on Halloween?" You asked, reaching for his free hand as he guided the steering wheel with the other. "You know.. after I beat you?"

Joel laughed. "I'm pretty creative."

"Yeah?"

"Don't underestimate me."

You chuckled and let out a sigh as he pulled the truck into the driveway. Right away your car and his motorcycle came into view.

"You wish we were on the bike, don't you?" Joel suspected.

You giggled. "No, I liked the truck. It has character."

"It's a piece of shit." Joel looked to you as he parked it and killed the engine.

"Well, I like it."

Joel stared at you for a second with a smirk on his face and then popped open the door. The two of you retrieved the pumpkins from the bed of the truck and then headed inside.

"Are we really doing this right now?" He asked, prompting you to nod.

"Of course!" You nodded eagerly and he agreed, locating oversized plastic, garbage bags and a short stack of newspapers piled at the edge of the counter.

You decorated the kitchen table with enough to protect it from the pumpkiny mess that was to come and then placed down the the pumpkins on top of it.

Joel retrieved a pair of kitchen knives and handed you one. "I don't have any of those fancy, little kits they sell these days."

"Well, I guess it's the traditional eyes, nose and mouth scheme, then." You grinned. "I like those better anyway."

"Good luck." He plunged the knife into the top of the pumpkin. You followed his lead and the two of you faced off, beginning with the circular cut around the stem before forming triangular eyes and a nose.

You arched your neck to look at Joel's but he spun it so you couldn't see. You then gave a second attempt and he chuckled and moved his pumpkin out of your view again. After a simultaneous laugh, you flung a handful of pumpkin seeds at him.

Joel began to laugh out loud. "Are you mad you're going to lose?" He grabbed a handful of pumpkin guts and tossed it back in your direction.

You let your mouth drop open, smiling at the same time, as you looked down to where the stringy, orange substance clung to your plaid shirt.

"You started it," Joel joked, maneuvering out of the way as you tossed another handful of the pumpkin's innards at him. This time the seeds bounced off the wall and the handful of guts stuck to it.

"Ohh!" You laughed out loud. "I'm sorry." When Joel threw a handful back at you, you ducked and watched as it smacked against the glass of the patio door.

Joel chased you around the table as you laughed wildly now, reaching for more pumpkin guts with your left hand. You breathed heavy when he finally got his hands on you.

"Okay, okay.. truce." You smiled wide and held a hand out to shake.

As Joel looked down to accept your offer you plopped the other hand of pumpkin innards onto the top of his head and attempted to run again. He laughed and quickly caught up to you again, pulling you back by the arm.

The image of him with pumpkin all over him continued to make you cackle until your sides hurt. When you finally caught your breath you placed a slimy hand on his cheek.

"I'm sorry," you told him, still unable to completely hold back on your laughter.

Joel grinned and then snickered. "No you're not." He pulled the orange, stringy substance from his hair and draped it off the edge of your nose.

"We even now?" You asked, looking back at him, knowing you looked equally as silly as he did.

"Okay," Joel agreed.

You held out your hand and asked again, "Truce?"

He pushed your hand away and leaned in to kiss you. "Truce."

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 13

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3 @runningmom94 @mellymbee

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stormoflina · 9 months ago

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Outfit pics are back, time for my favourite post, lessgoo

disclaimer: opinions

Sigh, so the thing with Dominik is that you can't judge his outfits using parameters like taste or sense of style, you have to apply his very own little Domi scale to rate it, otherwise we are in the trenches.

With that in mind, I can appreciate that he is finally not wearing the rope laces, not that these ones are any better sadly. Bag, plain ugly. But you know what, hot take, but I kinda like this set. On the Domi scale it's a 6.5/10, 3/10 in the normal.

Will we ever see Ryan in something else, other than plain, monochrome sweats? Not feeling the navy either, I think the warmer tones look nicer on him. And those shoes look like the ones you can buy in Aldi, I'm sorry. It's safe, it's boring, can't give a number higher than 4/10.

Only Cody could wear Prada and still serve millennial dad core. 😭 Yet again, his height and face card saves him tho, he just looks clean and put together, as always. The shoes are nice, I guess. 5/10, because I'm bored!!

Listen, Stefan usually serves, but this is not a flattering picture. 😭 He loves his flowy, baggy pants, but this one is just not it. I like the chunky shoes tho, and the jacket and baseball cap, it's fun, youthful, he looks cute. 7.5/10

Nike and Adidas monochrome sweatsets? How original! I'm giving them 5/10 each, because I love them, not because they look good. I mean they do, just not the outfits.

Hot take: I don't like puffer jackets, so we are already a few points behind. Still, Virgil is just so effortlessly cool (despite clearly also putting effort into it yk), I just can't help but like it. 😭 Layering king, shoes are nice, hair is on point, pose is great... Typical Virgil aura. 8/10

Uhm, Macca, put your ankles away you, you w*h*ore. Yeah, this is not it, very much 2010s business bro vibes. It's something Ali would wear. 😭 And it's not your fault Macca, but I have trauma from men in shiny puffy vests. The maté kit is cute tho. 4.5/10

Don't judge me, but I like this okay. Idk, he looks so soft and cozy in the jumper and I like how the top matches the shoes. And his black leather maté kit is a serve too. But maybe it's just Darwin's good looks that make me say 7/10.

Here comes Wataru, saving the day again. Not his best fit, but he still looks sharp and so well put together, despite taking a more causal approach. I love a man in well-fitted clothes and these jeans look great on him! I don't really like the shoes, but other than that it's a casual 7/10.

#dominik szoboszlai #ryan gravenberch #cody gakpo #stefan bajcetic #curtis jones #andy robertson #virgil van dijk #alexis macallister #darwin núñez #endo wataru #lfc #lfc fashion

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elaaronpresleysgirl · 2 years ago

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Almost made me wanna sin

Summary:Elvis meets an innocent lil girl at church. He's just a big ol cat that needs a mouse.

Chapter 1

At twenty years old, fourty year old Elvis was the first man to put himself inside you. He married you first, of course.

Weather wise the Las Vegas spring was heavenly, warm but not too warm.But aside from the weather, Spring was just as mundane as all the other seasons. Until you met Elvis Presley.

'Normal' eighteen year olds didn't have a curfew, but your life wasn't exactly normal. After your Mom died when you were ten years old, the balance she brought to your discipline died too. Your Father treated you like a Princess..like a Princess that needed to be locked away in a dragon-guarded castle.

Your friends grew tired of the atmosphere the grumpy man created when they would visit, so eventually they stopped visiting at all. They came and went swiftly throughout your teenager years, all but one. The angel that was Daisy King. She was remarkably similar to you, she had grown up without a Mother and her Father was just as strict as yours.

And she had a sweet but mischievous spirit like you. Maybe that was why he seemed to actually like her. You both met at grade school and she was always there through the bad times and the good. He wanted you to have someone solid you could depend on and Daisy had proven herself to be.

Boys were none negotiable though. He had the mindset that boys were only after one thing. And you couldn't deny it was true of most of the boys at your school. They seemed to want to make it their mission to fuck every pretty girl they set eyes on. However there were a select few that were different, sweet boys that Daisy dated on and off.

Boys your own age didn't appeal to you. You were too deeply ashamed to admit it, even to Daisy but you often fantasized about fucking men your fathers age, there was something about the worn out, rugged looks on their faces, their broad, broad shoulders and large hands.

Even at church you would keep an eye out for potential subjects of your fantasies. This time was no different. You had gone to evening mass with Daisy (Under strict instructions to be back straight after)

You weren't actually interested in anything the priest was saying-you simply went to church because Daisy wanted to and it gave you opportunity to escape your Father's nagging for a little while. So while he spoke you surveyed the pews, eyes focusing on a middle-aged looking man who stood with his head bowed, black baseball cap over thick, raven hair and dark sunglasses over a slightly chubby face.

His hands were covered with leather gloves and he wore a long leather coat, tight black shirt and black trousers. His shirt was so tight in fact, the buttons were straining against his substantial belly. Something you found incredibly arousing. As he looked up you immediately recognised who the man was.

This was the man who's crumbled poster you kept under your pillow for the evenings you'd lock your bedroom door and get into bed, pulling the covers over yourself before retrieving the image of him in his "American Eagle' jumpsuit, microphone in hand.

You'd hold the poster in front of you with one hand while the middle finger of the other lazily circled your clit. You imagined waiting in his dressing room for him, helping him out of the suit and him urgently fucking you on his dressing table. You'd come so hard from the fantasy of the man, it was almost impossible to stop yourself from crying out.

And now he was right here, in your local church. You blushed hard at the thought he might somehow know you masturbated to his image, but you just couldn't tear your eyes away from him. He was magnetizing. You watched his large hands restlessly move from down by his sides to the pew in front of him until he settled on folding them around himself.

As you were studying his movements his head swiftly turned, catching you off guard. You whipped your own head away from his direction and froze, awkwardly fighting the urge to look back at him. You could feel his stare burning into you without even looking. "What's the matter with you?" Daisy questioned in a hushed voice why you were so shifty.

"Don't turn around, but I'm pretty sure-fuck-I think that's Elvis Presley behind us" You spoke back in a whisper. Daisy chastised you for swearing in God's house but chuckled at the ridiculous notion "Can you not swear here! Yeah right, if Elvis Presley is in this church I'll-" Her sentence cut short when she did the opposite of what you'd said and turned around.

"Shit!" She covered her mouth, shocked at the involuntary curse word that had just escaped. "So all it takes for you to curse in church is Elvis huh? I told you not to look!" You playfully nudged her. "He was looking right at us..well..you..he was looking at you" You knew your best friend was right. You could feel his eyes trained onto you.

All of a sudden the urge not to glance back at Elvis dissipated, overtaken by the thrill of being watched by the Elvis Presley. You first looked back with your gaze fixed to the murky green flooring, landing on his shiny leather boots and travelling over well-filled plain trousers, large brown belt and the strained buttons of his tucked in silk shirt until you gingerly reached his face, his full lips turning at one corner to give you the gorgeous grin you'd seen in magazines so many times. You were just thankful his blue eyes were hidden behind dark large glasses, you were already a burning hot mess and almost certain you would faint at the intensity of the windows to his soul on you.

"He's gonna end up coming over when this service is finished, I bet ya!" Daisy's enthusiasm made her speak a little too loudly and receive disgruntled head shakes from the elderly couple sat opposite. She began to mouth an apology but they had already turned their focus away. "Nah. He's just being nice because he caught me gawping at him. Probably just doesn't want to embarrass me." You whispered into her ear to save getting dirty looks from any more parishioners.

"Well it's not working! You're as red as my dress!" Daisy grabbed hold of the dress in question, leaned towards you and held the fabric of the shoulder near your face, giggling.

"I am aware, thank you!" You cleared your throat and attempted to compose yourself but neither you or Daisy were able to focus on the service. You never did pay much attention to the priest even on a normal day but it was unusual for Daisy not to be fully immersed.

After what seemed like a lifetime the service finally finished and you again turned to look at Elvis but to your bitter disappointment he was no longer there. You scanned the pews to ensure he hadn't just moved to another but he hadn't, he was gone.

"UGH. Daisy we had one chance to meet him and now he's GONE.FOREVER." You threw your head back dramatically and let out a whine. "Maybe it's for the best. He does have a bad track record when it comes to girls" Daisy's attempt to console you fell on deaf ears.

"I didn't say I was trying to date him!I just wanted to meet him! Ugh let's just go" You tugged on Daisy's arm, wanting to get out of the place imminently but she protested. "Wait a minute, I wanna speak to Father Carpenter before we go"

"I wanna speak to Father Carpenter before I go" You mocked her words in a high pitched tone. She didn't bite back though. "You can, I'm going home!" You were frustrated and disappointed you hadn't gotten to meet Elvis..if only you had just thrown caution to the wind and walked over to him or at least smiled back at him.

You walked with Daisy to Father Carpenter where you left her, both saying your goodbyes until tomorrow and you beginning your short journey home. It was now midnight and the streets were dimly lit due to several street lights being busted.

You always assured your Dad Daisy would walk you home but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. As you reached about the half way point to home you could sense something. A gut feeling struck you, like someone was watching. It was when you started to speed up to a more well lit street that you heard a startlingly loud whistle.

Oh fuck. Your mind began working at a million miles per hour, thinking of how you could defend yourself from whoever this creep was. You could now hear the sound of heavy footsteps, becoming closer and closer as your breathing became more and more erratic.

You just knew you had to run. Thoughts of despair and regret at not listening to your Father when he insisted you shouldn't be out on the streets so late alone flooded your mind, you began to feel like you were running in quick sand and before you knew it a hand latched onto your right shoulder, you trying to scream but no sound would appear.

Then you heard his voice. "Hey, why you out here all alone lil girl?" You could hear the smug smile in his tone. Your knees were already weak and it was some wonder you didn't pass out the way his intense blue eyes pierced into you. You couldn't find any words as you struggled to get your breath back.

"I'm Elvis Presley. Saw you staring at me back there. You caught my attention, lil girl" He held out a large gloved hand which you shook meekly. "I-I know who you are" Your breath slowly began to return to normal but you stuttered in the presence of this larger than life being.

He let out a chuckle and looked you up and down, his gaze lingering on your breasts. "I know you do, honey. But I'm not so ignorant as to not still introduce myself. Didn't mean to scare ya. Just hated the thought of a lil thing like yaself leaving herself all vulnerable. There's a lot of bad men out there."

"I-thank you" You mentally kicked yourself for giving such a lame response. He'd now taken his eyes off of your breasts and returned to looking you directly into your eyes. You couldn't figure out if you preferred him with sunglasses on or not his stare was so nerve-wracking.

"You're more than welcome doll. You not have a father or a young man looking out for ya?" "Yeah. My Father is very protective" You looked at the ground as you spoke. "He can't be that protective, letting ya walk home all on your own. If ya were my little girl I sure as hell wouldn't" Hearing those words come out of Elvis's mouth somehow made you blush.

"Well..." You began to explain how your Father thought you weren't alone but Elvis cut you off, as if what he wanted to say was far more important.

"A young man?" Elvis tilted his head to one side, expression becoming suddenly serious. "Huh, I-Im sorry?" You were dumbstruck. His plumb lips turned up into a cocky smile. "I'm guessing you don't have a young man looking out for ya either, a boyfriend? I doubt it the way you were undressing me with your eyes"

You couldn't fathom where to put your beet red face, something Elvis seemed to relish. He seemed to enjoy making you squirm and stutter. "S-s-sorry!" You spat out an apology to the ground and in return got a roaring laugh from Elvis. You prayed that same ground would swallow you up.

"Oh honey! You ain't gotta be sorry, you're only a human being after all! Darling, I enjoy being leered at by pretty things and you are a damn pretty lil thing. Look at me" Your hands began physically trembling as he held your chin up with one hand, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"You wanna know something?" His blue eyes had turned dark. You nodded feebly. You weren't at all sure you did want to know, you already felt faint but you daren't not nod. He dipped his head down so his lips were pressed against your ear, his close proximity stiring something underneath your panties.

"You staring at me with those big innocent eyes made my cock awfully hard" You gasped out loud at the vulger words he was whispering but you still couldn't help the heat crawling across your skin "I bet ya do that all the time, don't ya? Make men solid, desperate. That's what I was. Why'd ya think I had to leave the service early? Had to go and relieve myself in the bathroom. In God's house...that's what ya did to me. Almost made me wanna sin right there in the pew!"

"You're doing it to me again, right now" He continued, his southern voice heavy with lust right down your ear. "Feel him, feel just how hard he gets for ya doll" He firmly gripped your wrist pressed your hand over the tent in his trousers, making you moan involuntarily.

This was the first time you'd ever touched a man down there before and you were shocked at just how big he was. You suddenly felt a wet spot pool in your panties but Elvis withdrew himself from your ear and gently moved your hand away from his groin.

"Think you liked that a bit too much, lil girl. That little moan was music to my damn ears" He let his hand hover over your curves as though he was about to touch you but decided not to. Instead he once again brought his lips to your ear and spoke softly "But I'm not giving you anything tonight. I'm gon' go home and think about you..stroke my cock till I spill all over myself and you're gon' go home and rub that pretty..I know I've not had my eyes on it yet but I just know it's pretty..pussy while you picture me relieving myself just for you"

Another moan escaped you as you processed just what he was saying. You were slack-jawed, unable to formulate any words. Elvis was doing the talking for the both of you. "I'll see you at church tomorrow, lil girl"

He unexpectedly pecked you on the cheek before he strode off,too quickly disappearing. Leaving you wondering if it was just a dream. You trudged the rest of the way home in a trance-like, highly aroused state to do what Elvis had asked of you.

#elvis presely smut #elvis x reader #toxicity #big daddy elvis #70s elvis

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cosmos-coma · 2 years ago

Text

Metal's Delicate Touch - Part 1

A/N: Hello! I'm branching out into another Fandom! Likely its just gonna be for this one character, but I'm excited to share another character I'm passionate about!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Blood and injury (Nothing terrible), Hurt reader, Reader gets mugged, I think that's all? let me know if I missed.

Summary: Bucky saves you from a mugging gone bad and is instantly pulled in by your warmth and compassion

_________________________

A roughened hand clamped itself over your mouth as grubby fingers rifled through your pockets.“When I asked you to stop, you really should have just stopped, sweetheart.” Your mugger spat as his number two pocketed everything you had on you.

These two men had followed you around the market for a while then towards your shitty little hostel. Eventually, they called out for you, chasing and cornering you in a blocked-off alley after you tried to run.

You had made to scream out for help, but your mugger immediately pulled out a gun from his heavy jacket, fitted with a silencer and everything.

They were not messing around.

As you struggled against the hands of your assailants you spotted a man walking past the occupied alley. His shoulders were broad and strong, evident even through his leather jacket. His shoulder-length hair and his baseball cap covered most of his profile, which was pulled down low in an obvious show of ‘don’t fucking talk to me’.

But you had no choice.

You bit down hard on the hand covering your mouth, blood instantly hitting your tongue. You did your best not to gag on the vile taste and screamed as soon as the hand pulled away. “Help me! Please! Hel-” and you were cut off as his hand clamped over your mouth once again.

“You little fucking bitch-” He seethed, pressing the gun against your thigh and pulling the trigger, the sound cushioned by both the silencer and your soft flesh that even you barely heard it over your heartbeat. Though muffled by his hand, your scream strained your throat with all its ferocity and pain. Tears welled in your eyes as your brain swam with newly radiating pain, but your eyes still searched for the man in the baseball hat.

You struggled to keep your bleary eyes open and your heart fell when you no longer saw him. Did he leave? Did he even hear you?

Heavy tears fell as your eyes screwed shut and another wave of pain like malevolent electricity ran through your limbs as you tried to shift your weight under their grasp.

“Hey-” Was all you heard your mugger say as his weight was thrown away from you. A resounding THUD bounced off the walls as his body did just the same. Brick bit against your skin as you slid along the wall to the ground, your single good leg no longer having the energy to support you.

More thuds and grunts came from the space before you and as you peeked open your eyes you saw the man in a baseball cap beating the shit out of your assailants. His punches were sharp and skilled, and his entire demeanor seemed glazed over as he got lost in the blood and grunts.

“That’s enough..! That's fine..!” you yelled, not wanting to see their deaths, and his whole disposition changed in an instant. His square shoulders softened at the edges and his fists loosened as he turned to face you. You had never seen two men run so fast as your muggers did when they saw him distracted, turning their bruised and bloody tails as they ran.

His face was mostly shadowed as he scooped up your stolen items, though his eyes just shone through the darkness, promising the most striking gaze you had ever seen.

He extended a hand to you wordlessly as he approached, an invitation for his further help and you were glad to take it.

You griped his hand tight and started pulling yourself to your feet, “Thank you so much, I- Ah..! Fuck, Fuck hold on…” you loosened your grip on his hand, dropping back to the ground. Your hands instantly went to your leg wound, feeling the hot blood that had seeped out as you strained to stand.

“I- I don’t think I can stand on my own. I’m sorry, um… I’ll figure something out.” You glanced at your surroundings, trying desperately to come up with a good solution. Your knight in a baseball cap watched you quietly for a moment before he reached down to you again, both arms this time as he effortlessly scooped you up bridal style.

“Oh..!” you gasped in surprise but held tight to him with your arms around his neck. “Thank you… You can just drop me at any hospital and I’ll greatly appreciate it. I don’t wanna be a bother,” you offered. His grip on you tightened as you suggested he dropped you off, as you suggested that he leave you.

He couldn't put a word on exactly what it was that made his stomach lurch at the thought of dropping you off with a bunch of strangers. Strangers who would undoubtedly hurt you and ruin the fine but subtle scent you gave off. It was your scent of damp moss and sweet gardenias which made his heart feel a softness he feels he knew only in another lifetime.

Your slight wince drew him out of his deep well of thought and he quickly loosened the grip of his ungloved hand which was squeezing far too close to your open wound.

Despite his prominent objections, you could only get a low grunt out of him as he shook his head and continued his steadfast journey. “Can I at least know where we’re going then?” you asked, being met with even less of a reply.

The journey was quiet as he carried you to an old apartment building, your arms resting comfortably around his neck as he carried you up the winding stairwell and into a small apartment.

It was rather bare for the most part, with only the necessities and no items to show comfort or leisure- only survival. Your eyes bounced around from object to object, a book or two, simple cookware, and a couple of small guns. The last of which should have given you more pause, but you figure if he wanted you dead, he’d have left the other guys do it- so it must be for protection.

“Do you have a name? I’m not really fond of joining men in their apartments without at least knowing their name first.” You mused as he set you down on the all-too-firm bed, the faintest wince of discomfort as the foreign object in your leg moved with you.

At first, you weren't sure if he heard you as his attention immediately became consumed by searching around the apartment. You waited a few moments before you asked again. “I’d rather not just call you ‘handsome stranger’ for the rest of our time.” you laughed awkwardly, trying to lighten the intense mood that seemed to cling to this man no matter what. “Is there something I can call you-”

“They...” his first hints at a spoken word had you immediately silenced, desperate to hear if his voice matched the brooding exterior he put off. He came back with a white box, setting it down beside you before he pulled his hat off. His blue eyes were just as striking as promised and searched your face for something neither of you could name.

“They… They called me James once.” his voice rumbled out, raspy and quiet from its limited use. The vibrations of his husky voice put you at ease, despite his intense stare which you found yourself quickly growing accustomed to.

A small smile grew on your face as you introduced yourself, “Well thank you for saving my life, James.” Something drew you to reach out for him, just for the lightest touch, the gentlest graze- but when his whole body flinched back you quickly withdrew your hand. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No.” He quickly interjected, those vibrant blues locking with your eyes, “Don’t apologize.”His weight shifted a bit- as if he was trying to hold everything in in your presence.

“And don't thank me yet-” He started as he opened up the white box, only now noticing that one of his hands was hidden away in a leather glove. Medical tweezers, alcohol pads, stitches- almost every possible at-home medical instrument you could think of was stocked into this kit. “-the bullet still needs to come out.”

Oh fuck. You had almost let yourself forget about the bullet still lodged in your leg and the blood that still slowly seeped out over your pants. “Fuck… okay.” you nodded, understanding exactly what he needed from you.

His eyes watched with a growing hunger that he quickly fought down as you tried to shimmy out of your pants- eventually resorting to asking him for help. A buzz ran over his skin as he made that first contact- calloused fingertips pressing against the supple skin of your upper thighs and dragging slowly down the length of your legs.

With little hesitance, he knelt down between your spread legs, his shoulder to you as he lined himself up for the best angle. His gloved hand gripped behind your knee to hold you in place and inadvertently sent a jolt straight to your core.

‘Not now’ you shunned your body.

“Bite this.” He instructed and handed you the cap he had just been wearing.

��What’s this fo-AH!” You yelped out, immediately bitting down on the brim of the hat, as the long medical tweezers he had dug around your flesh for the bullet in question. You did your best to keep quiet, not wanting to alert the neighbors but it was hard.

Your whimpers echoed around the room to him, bouncing from the wall to his ears in an endless pained cycle. “James, wait- please… I need a break,” you begged as your hands, tense and desperate for something to hold, naturally found their place in his hair.

You didn’t have the mind about you to notice the way he flinched when your fingers touched him, nor the way he softened soon after he realized how gentle you were still trying to be. Even with your immense pain you didn’t jerk his head back or dig your nails into his scalp- no, you tugged and clenched your fingers around his long hair, but still never had the heart to hurt him.

Practiced hands eventually pulled the crushed metal out with a disgusting squelch. A relieved and breathy sigh passed by your parted lips as it was finally done and your hands came away from him.

“Good girl…” he spoke it quietly, just enough for you to hear and for it to stop your heart for what felt like minutes, stirring you once again. He took surprising care and delicacy as he continued to clean and wrap your leg until you were fully taken care of.

With a grunt you carefully rose to your feet, hobbling around the apartment as you tested out your leg- you could barely put any weight on it, but it would do for now. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough… “ you said as you watched him pack everything away again.

“Well, you could… stay?” His voice came quietly as if he was almost ashamed to ask you for so much, but he needed this- needed you. “At least until your leg is healed…” he urged, hoping you’d at least agree to baby steps with him.

“I…” you started, searching his face carefully, trying to read each and every crease, though you were no expert- not like he was. However, what you did catch was the evident yearning. Innocent and true, the way a child yearns for their crush to sit next to them at lunch. It was a look behind his eyes that said ‘I can’t be alone now that I’ve found you’.

You could use the help as you healed… and your hostel was far worse than this. Something about the firm but gentle way he held you surrounded you with a sense of safety you’d rather not give up so easily. Not to mention those handsome eyes that made your heart flutter in your chest.

“I’ll stay” you nodded, smiling a bit at the way his lips just curled up at the ends, the most emotion you had seen from him yet.

He didn’t let you hobble for very long before he was urging you to sit down and rest. You obliged but still did your best to stay close, sitting on the counter as dinner was made and stealing bites here and there. You smiled at the way he relentlessly shooed you away each time, eventually resorting to gently thwapping your hand with the sauce-laden spoon.

His smile grew as you licked the sauce off your hand and hummed along to the jovial beat the radio sang, your fingers still searching for more bites to steal. Your warmth seemed to light up the entire room as you simply existed beside him and he could feel even the shadiest corners of himself become a little easier to look into.

After dinner, your body was begging you to sleep after its incredibly long say and you weren’t one to deny it. Instantly you were out like a light, Your sleeping form sprawled out on your side of the thin mattress.

Bucky watched your chest rise and fall evenly as you let out slow puffs of breath. Your shirt had ridden up to expose your soft belly and the gentle curve of your hips. Your underwear was the only true cover your lower half had, the bandages having bunched and protested as you tried to re-dress.

He knelt beside you, eyes transfixed on the little signs of life you gave out. The breaths, the tiny movements against the sheets, and the steady beat of your heart all came together to form a melody unlike that of any other.

He peeled off the glove from his metal hand and reached out slowly, hesitantly, until his fingers just barely grazed your lower stomach. You let out a short quick gasp as the cold metal made itself known on your skin, causing him to instantly flinch backward.

When you settled and didn’t stir any further he knew it was safe to go in again. His touch was a little more confident as he ran his fingers from stomach to hip, loving the way your soft flesh bowed to his touch.

His heart swelled in his chest as you let out a gentle huff, your hand coming to rest over his as you shifted in your sleep. Racing heartbeats rushed passed his ears, the only sensation he could take in besides the sleepy expression on your lips. Patiently he worked his way out of your grip, making sure not to disturb your sleep.

And with that, a sense of purpose returned to him that day- a lifelong mission if you will- to ensure you would never lose such peace again.

_____________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity (thanks for always supporting me dear!)

Wanna be added to the taglist?Just DM/ask!

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nova--spark · 1 year ago

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Maybe this is a bad time to bring this up but we’ve seen the Jasper Trio turn into Cybertronians but what if Team Prime turned human?

Ok I have been thinking on this and Going off my messing with the idea of Quintessa, set in about a year into the Timeskip AU for further funnies. Mortal Machines

A vengeful Cybertronian sorceress had returned with a grudge. And a very high superiority complex to rival most other cons to boot, she used a relic so obscure, that it could be argued even Alpha Trion had not recorded it in the Iacon Relics.

And the unexpected results of this relic, were the entirety of team Prime ( Arcee, Ratchet, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Wheeljack, Ultra Magnus, Smokescreen , Elita and Optimus Prime ) having a rather...unique and new kind of transformation. Into a human form. Human forms that resembled their holoforms at the very least, which made recognizing them far easier than if they had been regular humans, but... Oh lord was this going to get hectic. It was..an experience for sure. I mean sure, holoforms could be quite realistic in their sensations, to the point of picking up, carrying things, feeling , but this was wholly new to the team. They were just very glad that when it did happen? They were close enough to contact base at all. Safe to say? The kids were very perplexed to see the now human Autobots before them.

The first they encountered was Bumblebee, with sun kissed skin, eyes of icy blues you'd think they were almost silver, and short golden blond so perfect you'd think his hair was golden straw, if not for the faint black streaking through it in spots. He looked so young, in his early 20s surely, and a sturdy 6ft tall. Scars littered his skin, but he was quick to scoop up Raf into his arms, laughing as the stunned kids saw him in a true blue human form. He was dressed in what looked like just casual wear, save for the bright yellow and black leather jacket, with a fittingly bee themed emblem on his back and shoulders.

Next was Bulkhead, who looked so...normal in comparison to some of the more brightly colored team mates, but upon closer look, his near black hair was indeed a dark green in the sunlight, eyes of steel blue, and dark skin, marred in scars. His hair was cut short, but he wore a baseball cap [which somehow held the Wreckers emblem, which was amusing to Miko] that covered it anyway. His face was framed by a large bushy beard and mustache, and he had a few wrinkles, but from smile lines. He was dressed in what many construction workers would be found in, a vest, grey t-shirt, and jeans with sturdy work boots. He looked to be at least in his early 30s, which they found quite fitting. He towered over quite a few, at 6ft 5.

Wheeljack by comparison, looked to be in his late 30s, and was dressed like a biker, a leather vest covered in various patches, his hair a dark grey and streaked with silver that complimented his ever so lightly tanned skintone , and the same steely blue eyes as Bulk. He looked beyond elated, picking up Miko and runnin aorund with her on his back as they tested out how energetic he was as a human, now that he could pick her up with less caution at all. He was only an inch shorter than Bulk at 6ft 4, which he ribbed on his friend for.

Arcee by contrast, looked so simple. Dressed in a sleeveless high neck shirt, black jeans and combat boots, what stood out most was her midnight hair with a pink underdye and her bangs framing the sides of her face fading into the iconic pink of her head pieces. Her eyes were unique, almost a pale blue-violet, with the faintest tints of pink. Her lips were painted a dark blue which stood out against her lightly tanned skin, and Arcee looked to be in her late 20s by comparison to the older men around her. She stood at 5ft 10 next to the guys, small sure but not dainty as they could tell by her physique.

Smokescreen, who to no one's surprise was also in his early 20s like Bee, was in contrast a mix of both his previous and current paint job. His hair was an almost silvery white, but streaked with faint red like Bee's black streaks, and eyes of bright aquamarine. He was dressed in a racer's jacket, white red and blue with his old number on the back, though his t-shirt by contrast was blue and yellow with his current new number on the chest. He looked to be the most excited to be human, and was 6ft 2 , towering next to Jack [who was just 5ft 10 in comparison].

Ultra Magnus was...the fitting image of a soldier in his prime years [roughly early 30s], dressed in what looked like combat ready gear, which was a stark contrast to his blue hair streaked with faint red. His eyes a silvery blue, they were still firm in their gaze as he tried to understand what had happened to them. Pale peachy skin was marked with scars of a fitting second in command however, and he stood tall, at 6ft 6 next to most of the others.

He didn’t say much, he may as well have been a statue if you asked the others, but his eyes passed over each teammate, ensuring they were alright.

Ratchet…was another story. He was outraged by this transformation-transfiguration? Whatever it was, he would like to very much be back in his own body! Standing at 6ft 3, Ratchet had white hair slicked back into a decent braid, with just the simplest streaks of red-orange in it and a well cared for red goatee. His skin was a rich warm tan tone, and his eyes were an almost green tinted aquamarine, as his eyes had never really been the same after his incident with Synth-En.

Dressed in a white lab coat and scrubs, he certainly at least looked like a doctor, which amused the kids quite a bit. At the very least he too looked his age, in his late 40s.

He however, was not at all amused.

Lastly was Optimus and Elita, who had been likewise, caught in the transformation.

Elita was beautiful, standing at 5ft 10 and in her early 40s, her pink hair had a black underdye, and complimented her rosy complexion and sapphireine eyes. She was well dressed in a dusty pink suit jacket, with a white blouse, but casual jeans and most surprising or fitting, black combat boots.

No one could say Elita did not look like a formal yet terrifying soldier.

By comparison, Optimus looked quite…different

Dressed in refined clothes almost reminiscent of a professor, Optimus looked to be almost in his 50s, wrinkles along his eyes which were a gentle cyan blue, and gently tanned skin with a few scars across his features and a well maintained beard as well. His hair in contrast, was a deep blue streaked with white and red. Standing the tallest of all, at a towering 6ft 7 above everyone else. Surprising many, he had glasses, which seemed almost fittingly still on his gentle face and features. He wore a black turtleneck, with a deep red suit jacket and dark grey slacks, as well as black dress shoes.

He looked so…so normal.

Once everything settled, they called June and Fowler, and June was quick to give a check up to everyone.

Now they just…had to figure out how they would turn back to Cybertronians.

Primus help them.

#transformers #maccadam #maccadams #transformers prime #tfp #tf prime #nova writings #TFP: TIMESKIP | RID15 AU #Mortal Machines

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deramin2 · 1 year ago

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My boyfriend made an observation about the Timberborn icon so I modified this meme to show it.

ID:

Text: Nobody. Gay bears™ on Instagram.

Image: the faces of 20 white gay men, mostly heavy set, all with beards, a couple with baseball caps, and most with a particular smile. Second row first column has two men. Third column, third row is the Timberborn icon, a cartoon beaver face in a floppy brimmed hat and a leather harness. He has the exact same profile and smile as the gay men.

End ID.

#Timberborn #Queer culture #gay bears #All the make beavers are bears and the female beavers are butch #Some of them are bi enough to make babies when necessary #but unless you're building a bunch of new housing and expanding or recovering from a population die off the birth rate is pretty low #Or the Ironteeth just grow their babies in bays using science #truely a queer paradise society #All my dance halls are now gay bars in my head

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sunsetleather8 · 8 months ago

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The Hottest Leather Baseball Caps For Men With Biker Gear

Leather baseball caps for men and motorcycle apparel have come a long way from their early beginnings. Today, innovative materials like leather combined with creative designs make for headwear and biker gear that is both fashionable and functional. Whether you're a ballplayer or biker or love sporty styles, leather caps and motorcycle clothing may be just what you need to take your look to the next level. Read More: https://sunsetleather45.blogspot.com/2024/04/the-hottest-leather-baseball-caps-for.html

#Leather Baseball Caps For Men

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entropicquilibriumofchaos · 11 months ago

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Coffee is Sacred

Ilmo Koskela & Jaakko Koskela & Rose Marigold

The annual prank war that accompanies Deerfest and Moosefest is about to start, and Rose is determined to get the jump on the Koskela brothers this year.

Read it on ao3

The September morning sun beat down on the pavement and set the rural Washington wilderness alight with life. The boughs of the giant silver fir trees swayed gently in the breeze, their bright green needles clinging tight to the branches. Small wildflowers grew along the road, dotting shades of purple and white against the brown and green undergrowth.

The low drone of motorcycles quickly grew louder and louder as two bikes raced down the highway towards Bright Falls. The wild flowers swished with the draft as they passed, and fir needles dropped like rain. A faint yell could be heard over the rumbling of the engines as one of the bikes passed the other.

The bikers continued in their revelry, eventually rolling into the normally quiet town of Bright Falls, Washington. An elderly gentleman who had been watering the flowers in a pot outside of his house waved, and both of the bikers waved back, shouting their greetings.

The town was decorated in banners and signs, proudly announcing the arrival of the 75th annual Deerfest. Balloons attached to light poles floated in the breeze and a stage was set up in the distance.

The usually sleepy town was bustling with life; tourists and locals alike enjoying the beautiful morning. Even so, the bikers maneuvered through the pedestrian traffic with ease and came up upon an old school diner with a large neon sign that read “Oh Deer Diner”. They pulled their bikes to the side of the road and killed their engines almost simultaneously.

“I win again, Jaakko,” one of the bikers said with a mischievous smile as he pulled the helmet off of his head and replaced it with a baseball cap.

The other biker just shook his head as he pulled a pair of leather gloves off his hands and stuffed them into the saddle bag of his bike. “I let you win. Just like every other time, Ilmo.”

The two men wandered into the diner and sat down at the counter with the confidence of someone who had done it many times before. The booths on the sides of the diner were full and the old jukebox in the back corner played a tropical beat.

“Oh Rosie!” Ilmo called with a smile and a wave.

A young woman dressed in an old-fashioned pink and white waitress dress turned around from where she had been chatting with another customer. A grin spread across her face as she saw the two brothers sitting in their usual spot. She politely excused herself from the customer and made her way over to them as Jaakko leaned over the counter and patted under the lip, looking for something that wasn’t there.

“Looking for this?” Rose asked as she bent down and grabbed an older-looking beanie from a crate below the corner. Her smile spelt mischief, but neither of the brothers noticed.

Jaakko snatched the hat out of her hand instantly and positioned it on his head. “I can’t believe you would steal my hat,” he huffed. “That’s a low blow.”

Rose put her hands on her hips and scoffed. “I did not steal anything. You left it on the counter yesterday morning, you big dummy.” Jaako waved her off as she moved her attention to Ilmo. “The usual for you two?”

“Yes ma’am,” Ilmo responded, “Gotta fuel up for the big opening day! Although I will say… things are a bit quieter here than I would have expected. Watery is completely full of tourists.” A sly smile crossed his lips once again.

Ever the polite girl, Rose seemed to brush off Ilmo’s antagonistic jeering like a piece of lint. Instead of responding, she simply nodded and walked away as the brothers struck up conversation with each other. Little did they know, Rose’s masterminded plan was falling right into place.

Bright Falls and Watery were always friendly towns and worked together to keep their little piece of Washington alive. Except in the beginning of September. As soon as the first autumn breeze whips across Cauldron Lake, the sister towns begin their plotting, each competing against the other to draw more tourists in for their annual festivals. Bright Falls had Deerfest, while Watery had Moosefest. Watery had a reputation of beating out Bright Falls, and the Koskela brothers had a habit of rubbing it in to Rose whenever they could. What were playful arguments always escalated into full blown prank wars between the three of them, and Rose was determined to get a jump on them this year.

Rose entered the kitchen and rummaged through her jacket that was hung on the back of the door. Making sure no one was looking, she pulled out a bottle of white powder with the words “Thick-It” printed in bold letters. It was a tool brought over from her other job at the Valhalla nursing home; a powder that would thicken liquids to make it easier for some of the residents to swallow. However, it was about to make the perfect prank for the unsuspecting coffee-loving Koskelas. She scooped a spoonful of the powder into two coffee mugs before stashing the bottle back in her pocket. She would bring it back to the nursing home after her shift at the diner.

She filled each mug with the famous Oh Deer Diner coffee and gave them vigorous stirs. Slowly, the liquid went from the usual thin and runny coffee to a thick, slightly gelatinous mass in the cup. She giggled quietly and did a small dance, excited that she was finally going to get the drop on the boys. Quickly plating up the rest of their usual order, she took the two pieces of cherry pie and mugs of thickened coffee back out to the counter.

The brothers were talking animatedly about which float they thought would win the Moosefest parade judging when Rose set down their order in front of them.

“You’re the best, Rosie,” Ilmo cooed, pulling out his wallet to pay.

Rose smiled and put her hand out. “It’s on the house today, boys. Happy Deerfest!”

Jaakko and Ilmo shared a look before clinking their mugs together and taking a big swig of their coffee as Rose watched in anticipation.

As soon as the “liquid” touched their mouths, a sputtering noise echoed through the diner, followed by a chorus of swears.

“Perkele, Rose! What the hell?” Ilmo shouted as he looked at the young waitress, who was doubled over with laughter. “Why is it so thick?”

Trying to contain herself, Rose stood back up, but lost it again when she saw Jaakko’s disgusted face. She was laughing so hard it hurt, and all eyes were on the three of them at the counter.

Ilmo’s face got serious. “Coffee is sacred, Rose.You’ve really done it this time.”

Rose put herself together enough to hear Ilmo say something that made her eyes go wide.

“I know where your Alan Wake cut out is… it would be a shame if it ended up in Cauldron Lake…” he said, taking a bite of cherry pie nonchalantly.

Rose looked at him pointedly before crossing over to Jaakko, who was simply nodding and eating his pie as well.

“You wouldn’t.” she huffed in disbelief.

Jaakko swallowed. “Just remembered, Rosie: you started this.”

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askthebutch · 9 months ago

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Im kind of like, new to lesbian culture and butch culture. Im 15, I've known I liked girl since I was like, 9 or 10. And I spent most of that time convinced I was bi or pan because of comhet or whatever. Anyway, I wanna know if you have any advice on how to start dressing more butch? And just like more butch media I can interact with and go through to learn more about it

Be cautious in online spaces that are geared towards lesbians and butches, since most of the folks on there are adults and will be discussing adult themes.

Dressing butch, and butch media. When you try on a new gender expression, most folks start with undergarments. That way it's private and you can decide if you feel more confident before you start changing stuff people will notice. Most butches I know wear sports bras, boxer briefs, and ugly ass crew socks. Sports bras weren't an option for me until after my breast reduction, so I wore minimizing bras. I likes Hanes womens' boxer briefs and their white crew socks (ugly I know but trust they are so comfy you'll never go back).

For clothing, it's all about the fit and hem lines. You'll have to try on a bunch of clothes to find what really works for you.

For shorts, try women's soccer shorts because they have a lower hem line than shit like nike shorts, but they won't swallow you like men's basketball shorts. For pants and jeans, tighter is going to read as feminine but that doesn't mean you should wear parachute pants. (google mc hammer and don't tell me you've never hear U Can't Touch This) Go for bootcut or straightcut jeans. You might have formals or dances or something in which case I recommend getting a women's tuxedo.

For shirts, get you a multipack of t shirts from the men's section. Great place to start. Men's t shirts aren't as clingy as women's, they're cheaper, they have pockets, and they're a little longer in the torso. Pair a t-shirt with a casual open button up (like a flannel) and you've got yourself a look that killed it back when I was in school with my fellow dinosaurs. I tuck the t shirt into my jeans and wear a leather or recycled bike tire belt with a buckle I found at an antique store.

Ultimately, it's more about what makes you confident than what aligns with the gender expression you're aiming for.

If you saw me at a coffee shop, I'd be wearing crocs or beat up work sneakers, Levi 401 jeans, a big hoodie, and maybe a baseball cap. I also like to paint my nails black and wear the same two necklaces I've worn since I was like 12. That's what makes me confident.

#For wholesome fun you can make your own leather belt with a kit from a craft store #ask the butch #anon #my tone in this reply is very much Awkward Older Cousin Tussles Your Hair #if that wasn't clear

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possibilistfanfiction · 1 year ago

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Hi, may you please spare some advice on what casual, but also cool in a hot climate, clothing a baby butch could look into wearing that’s a bit fashionable and isn’t just a shirt and a cargo shorts?

whew first of all donate any & all cargo shorts immediately (pretend tan france is telling you that Urgently). i do understand finding shorts can be kind of weird depending on ur body shape bc men’s shorts are often bulky & long. i prefer a 5’ inseam, but you can go for a 7’ if that feels better. under No circumstances should ur shorts hit ur knees lol. madewell has some pretty good options (if you can find one that’s mens & womens in-store that’s the best). pacsun usually has some pretty chill options. for online shopping, bearbottom shorts is not too expensive & has a lot of colors in both 5’ & 7’ shorts. i really like the swim shorts both& just made (not sure if they’re sold out). get lighter colors in the summer if you want for shorts, & just… no khaki.

& i love a t-shirt, but it’s in how it’s worn. i don’t think it even needs to be an interesting t-shirt, but it should have a fit & pov that looks intentional. i like to get my t-shirts a size up & tuck them in, sometimes pair them with an overshirt. if i know i’m going to be SWEATING & i want to wear a tshirt, i’ll wear something looser & actually thicker cotton in either black or white. i’ve had top surgery so i can wear tanks without stress but if binding is a concern, both& has some great tanks for ppl who bind.

if you do want to be more dressed up than a short/t-shirt combo, the answer is & will always be linen. a short sleeved linen button up (from really anywhere you like that fits well — uniqlo has both men’s & women’s in many earthtones for under $50!) is The Key. put it on as an overshirt over your t-shirt or wear it buttoned halfway in a french tuck. i prefer to stay away from patterns & bright colors bc it can easily look a little zany, but do your thing there. i have a few pairs of linen pants i also love, especially for things like taking my wife on a date, or if it’s just a cool day/nighttime activity etc. literally just… linen button ups & linen pants, even drawstring pants! if you wanna ball out, theory makes my favorite linen pants, but oak + fort is a close second & much more affordable. everlane also has all of these pieces in mens & womens & is very high quality!

idk ur shoe situation but two great options are always birkenstocks (the rubber ones are under $50 & v comfortable) and/or all white low air force 1s. a good all white sneaker is a great starter sneaker & will always go with everything. i myself prefer dunk lows but u gotta rly be wanting to invest in some sneakers to do that lmao but if you are! they’re cool

lastly, small accessories go a long way! i have a few chains, a small hoop earring, a ring (& my wedding ring but lol i don’t think we can count that as an accessory), & then sunglasses i love. i have a Beautiful watch from my wife but literally just a watch w a normal watch face & a leather band is better than nothing or wearing a smart watch out when there’s quite literally no need lol. a good baseball cap, either plain black or from a cool brand (mine for this summer is aime leon dore) is both a nice addition & also practical. do not & i mean Do Not carry around a backpack unless u Absolutely have to lol. masc cross body bags or canvas totes are much better if u need a bag

also:

- you can find tons of overshirts thrifting or at outlets! since they don’t have to fit perfectly it can be a great place to look for them

- i live & die by a good pair of light wash denim in the summer. allsaints & madewell always have beautiful denim, but you can look at levi’s as well, or thrift!

- tailoring is not expensive!!!!!!!!! if u find pants u love that are too long, just get them hemmed! fr it’s like $10, everyone needs a good tailor

- never underestimate a good sweatshort/t-shirt/overshirt/birks moment to go get a cup of coffee or something… 10/10

- i have definitely not been in a place financially to do this in the past, so pls take this w a grain of salt & of course do what��s best for your budget, but higher quality, simple fabrics ethically made are ALWAYS going to be best. they’ll last longer & keep their fit. launder ur clothes carefully too! hang drying pants & heavy cotton will get their lifespan to extend. & it’s 100% cool to find brands u love & stick to them. if u find a piece u like, u can get it in a few colors, rather than trying to find a bunch of other stuff. quality > quantity, capsule wardrobes are easier to wear & maintain

- some ppl whose fashion i like rn: courtney williams, arike ogunbowale, shanice van de sanden. & sue bird knows how to wear a short/button up summer set with the best of them. kristen kish Obviously. (& also i love mal from the queer ultimatum lmfaoooo)

- wear whatever u want, just not cargo shorts :)

#i can Hear tanny throwing a pile of cargo shorts from the closet to the floor lmaoooo #but rly it’s just linen that’s it that’s the most important thing lol #not to be silly but u should watch s7e2 of queer eye bc tan gives some great butch summer advice!

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your-not-so-southern-blig · 1 year ago

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Southern Convention #3

Hat etiquette

Hats here in the south is a staple of our clothing choice and they are a handy tool that is used in those hot summer days. Here's how you handle hats on a daily basis:

Caps: Baseballs caps or your go to hat is usually a hat that you got for free at a booth or convention. This is work outside during hot days to work or to a casual get together. This will usually be busting at the seams before you replace it with an equally inexpensive hat.

Cowboy hats: Cowboy hats are both formal and informal head wear. They can be used to work in the field with or worn to weddings or proms. There are different types, winter and summer. Your winter hats are a heavier leather that will keep the head warm, the summer hats are going to be a light material like a light plastic that will shade your eyes and keep the head cool. You've heard the rule never take a cowboy's hat unless you plan on going home with him, and the second never lay your hat brim down (you'll pour all the luck out of it).

Easter hats: If you go further south you'll find people wearing hats to church every Sunday but that is not the case where I live. The only occasion for wearing hats at church is Easter or Homecoming. When choosing this hat pick something subtle, not too many feathers or things adorning it.

General rules of hats when it comes time for dinner, men take off their hats regardless of the kind and women are generally asked to unless it is an Easter hat then they are permitted to keep it on during supper.

#southern #southern gothic #dashboard #trending #southern aesthetic #alabama #arkansas #tennessee #georgia #church #hats #fashion #southern fashion

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shadeofazmeinya · 2 years ago

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How to Plan a Simple Heist: A Guide for the Current Sorry Soul Leading the Fakes

A/N: Here’s my fic for the Achieve! Zine that I was a part of! If you enjoy, I highly recommend the rest of the zine! As always, reblogs and comments are super appreciated!

AO3 Link

A man stands outside the tall marbled columns of the Maze bank, sunglasses reflecting the heat of a Los Santos day. The city bustles with movement; cars, people, planes soaring up above. But this man is stopped, considering the imposing structure in front of him as the doors swing in and out with people.

He leans back against the parking meter, hands buried into the pockets of his brown leather jacket, a wolf snarling on his back. No one cares to look at him and he doesn’t care to look at them. After a moment he adjusts his baseball cap a little lower over his brown curls and his eyes flicks to his watch. His mouth twists as he counts down the seconds before he pushes himself up and heads inside.

Pushing past the glass doors, his shoes echo across the marble floor. A second story balcony hangs above and he spares a glance up. There, a lithe man in a tailored suit stands. His blonde hair shines in the light, matching the gold around his neck and wrist. He stares down at the people going about their days alone. The two men catch eyes. Smirks pull at both of their lips and just as suddenly the man up top slips back into the crowd. And the man below continues his march to the teller's window.

“What can I help you with?” the teller says pleasantly, unknowing of the plan already unfolding. The parts already moving into place.

The man in leather grins and starts to hand a note-

“Then you seduce the bank teller!” Joe interrupts with a grin, a hand slamming down on the wood table that is sprawled with various maps, scrawled notes, and surveillance photos all centered on Maze Bank.

“What?” Alfredo laughs, others in the room bursting into giggles. “Why do you always want to fucking seduce the marks on the heist?”

“I can do it! Let me try!”

“No,” Trevor sighs, hand pinching the bridge of his nose. This planning session has already gone on for two hours and they’ve yet to even properly plan getting to the vaults. “No seducing. Michael just passes a note saying that this is a robbery.”

“That’s so boring though,” Joe huffs.

“He’s right, we can do better than a note,” Lindsay nods.

Trevor sighs, able to tell the battle he’s losing. “Then just tell the bank teller you’re robbing them. The note was the finesse.”

“Am I supposed to ask to go in the back or hold up the front?” Michael says, turning them somewhat back on track.

“You are the distraction. Your job is to keep the focus on you, while the others are setting up in the back-“

A large, detailed painting hangs in one of the meeting rooms, something expensive even if the subject is hard to make out with the mesh of colors. The room sits empty, silent until the painting creaks. Thudding against the wall, once, twice, third time it knocks off the hanger and clatters to the ground.

Replacing it is a hole with two figures inside. Both are dressed in all black with masks covering their faces and slip out with bags of gear on their back.

They move swiftly with practiced ease. They pause at the doorway and one leans out to listen. They listen closely and then give a quick hand motion and they both move out. Running down the hallway.

The camera flickers, red light blinking. Connected is a screen that shows the figures moving around. Then the screen flickers; the figures disappear mid walk. The screen shows just an empty hallway. Leaving silence and a lulled peace once again.

“How come Matt always gets to be the man in the chair?” Alfredo huffs, leaning back as Trevor is again trying to explain.

“Because I’m the hacker. That’s what I do. Besides, you said you wanted to be the one in the tunnel.”

“I did say that,” Alfredo laments. “Joe convinced me on the outfits.”

“Black and slim is sexy,” Joe grins. “And we get to use the big drill.”

“The hole will be made before the heist even begins,” Trevor reminds, pointing out their floor plans and maps that were labeled with the drill spots.

“Ky and I get to do it, right?” BK beams. “Pretty please, Trevor? We can sneak around and easily get it in place.”

“What?! No, I want to!” Jeremy protests. “Matt taught me how to use it!”

“Cmon, Jeremy, you know Team Friendly Fire has it covered,” Ky cuts in.

“Ky and BK can do it, Jeremy we’ll need you for setting up other parts of the heist,” Trevor says.

Ky smirks and sticks her tongue out at Jeremy, who returns the gesture.

“Now let’s focus and talk about how we’re getting out-“

The back door bursts open, several figures flooding out into the back alley. Voices shout and the wail of sirens isn’t far off. But the figures don’t stop moving, each carrying a bag draped around them. Cash sticking out from every stuffed pocket.

The figures bolt, taking off running in the same direction. All sharing bright grins as they run with their steal.

“We’re almost at the pickup spot,” one shouts, tapping a small piece in their ear.

“I’m right there,” a voice responds, a curl of red hair shouting over the loud roar of a helicopter. A shadow crosses over them, a cargobob hovering as the wind rips around.

Below the machine, there was a chain hooked to something hanging below it. A bright pink plastic box, swinging, with words on the side of it reading-

“We’re not using the fucking Porta Potty!” Michael shouts as Lindsay bursts into giggles.

“It’s the perfect plan, Michael!” Lindsay defends. “Listen-“

The room floods with bickering and teasing and complete lack of focus as they battle out the pros and cons of the portable toilet. Trevor lets out a deep, but fond, sigh. He knows when they need to focus they will. In the meantime, though, it's like herding cats.

Out of the corner of his eye, Trevor spots Jack give an amused smile as she lounges back in her chair. A knowing smile, having seen the chaos of these people the longest. But when she locks eyes with Trevor, she gives a subtle nod. An encouraging look, a deep set of trust. Trevor feels his nerves settle, looking back over all the maps and notes. All the work they’ve already put in. Trevor takes one more deep breath and gives a sharp whistle to get the room’s focus.

“Alright,-“ he says, leaning over the table and looking them all in the eyes. “Let’s take it from the top one more time.”

#achievement hunter #rtah #fake ah crew #fahc #ragehappy #my fics #its a gen fic so no ships haha #but i hope you all enjoy!

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