#“Custom Swimming Caps”

[euroswimcap]

Why Custom Swimming Hats are Essential for Swimmers and Teams: A Guide to Choosing the Best Options - Euro Swim Caps

Swimming hats are more than just a functional accessory for keeping hair dry and reducing drag in the water. They have become a popular means of expression and team unity, especially with the rise of Custom Swimming Hats. Personalized swim hats not only boost team spirit and identity but also allow swimmers to represent their unique style in the pool. In this guide, we’ll explore the benefits, uses, and features of Swimming Hats, with insights on why Euro Swim Caps is a top choice for high-quality, customizable swim caps.

The Role of Swimming Hats in Performance and Style

Why Are Swimming Hats Important?

Wearing a Swimming Hat isn’t just about looking the part; it offers several functional benefits that enhance performance, protect hair, and maintain hygiene. Here’s why every swimmer should wear a hat:

Reduces Drag: By covering the hair, a Swimming Hat creates a smoother profile, reducing resistance and helping swimmers move more efficiently through the water.

Protects Hair from Chlorine: Chlorine can be harsh on hair, making it dry and brittle. A good-quality swim cap, like those from Euro Swim Caps, provides a protective barrier that limits chlorine exposure.

Improves Visibility and Safety: Many pools require swimmers to wear caps for better visibility, especially in crowded lanes. Brightly colored Swimming Hats are easy to spot, adding a layer of safety.

Enhances Hygiene: Wearing a cap prevents hair from entering the pool, helping to keep the water cleaner and more hygienic for all swimmers.

Promotes Team Unity and Identity: For swim teams, custom hats with unique designs, logos, or names promote a sense of unity and help build team identity.

Choosing the Right Swimming Hat

When selecting a Swimming Hat, consider factors such as material, fit, and design. Swim caps come in various materials, each with its advantages:

Silicone: Durable, flexible, and comfortable, silicone caps are ideal for regular swimmers. They’re easy to put on and take off without pulling hair, making them a popular choice.

Latex: Lightweight and snug-fitting, latex swim caps provide a sleek fit but may not be as durable as silicone. They’re commonly used in competitions.

Lycra or Fabric: Soft and comfortable, Lycra caps are best for leisure swimming rather than competitive training, as they offer less drag resistance.

With these choices, Euro Swim Caps offers a range of materials tailored to different swimming needs, ensuring swimmers find the best fit for their preferences.

Why Choose Custom Swimming Hats?

The Benefits of Customization

Custom Swimming Hats offer a unique advantage, especially for teams, brands, and individual swimmers looking for personalization. Customized swim caps allow you to add personal flair, showcase team logos, or highlight sponsor branding, adding a sense of professionalism and unity in competitive environments. Here’s why customization matters:

Brand Visibility: Custom hats allow swim teams or sponsors to display their logos, making them easily identifiable. Whether at a local meet or an international competition, Custom Swimming Hats create a memorable impression.

Team Cohesion and Pride: Nothing boosts team spirit like wearing matching, customized gear. A personalized Swimming Hat from Euro Swim Caps strengthens team pride, unity, and motivation.

Individuality and Style: For individual swimmers, customizing a swim cap can reflect personal style, creating a unique look that sets them apart in the pool.

Recognition and Awards: Custom caps make great awards or gifts for team achievements, personal milestones, or special events, serving as a lasting memento.

How to Create Your Custom Swimming Hats with Euro Swim Caps

Creating a custom swim cap with Euro Swim Caps is simple, and the results are high-quality and durable. The process involves selecting your preferred material, color, and design, then adding logos, text, or any specific details you want. Euro Swim Caps uses high-quality printing techniques that ensure designs are vibrant and long-lasting, even after repeated use in the water.

Understanding the Different Types of Swimming Hats

1. Competitive Swimming Hats

Competitive swimmers require Swimming Hats that offer minimal drag and maximum durability. Silicone and latex caps are ideal for competitive settings as they fit tightly, creating a streamlined shape. Euro Swim Caps provides a variety of options for competitive swimmers, ensuring they have the right cap to enhance performance.

2. Training and Leisure Swimming Hats

For regular training or recreational swimming, comfort and durability are key. Lycra caps are often preferred in these settings, as they are gentle on hair and easy to wear. Euro Swim Caps offers Lycra caps that are soft, comfortable, and available in various colors and designs.

3. Customizable Team Hats

Swim teams benefit from customized caps that display their logos and colors. Custom Swimming Hats from Euro Swim Caps allow teams to represent their identity while reaping the benefits of high-quality swim caps designed for performance. Custom team hats are available in various materials, including silicone and latex, ensuring each team can choose the best option for their needs.

Caring for Your Swimming Hats

To extend the lifespan of your Swimming Hats, proper care is essential. Here are some tips to maintain the quality of your caps, especially if they are custom-made:

Rinse After Use: Rinse your hat with fresh water after each use to remove chlorine, salt, and other chemicals.

Dry Properly: Pat your cap dry with a towel, but avoid stretching it excessively. Allow it to air dry completely before storing it.

Avoid Sharp Objects: Keep your cap away from sharp objects that could puncture or tear the material.

Store in a Cool Place: Extreme heat can damage swim caps, so store your Swimming Hats in a cool, dry place.

By following these tips, you can enjoy long-lasting performance from your Euro Swim Caps products.

Why Euro Swim Caps is the Preferred Brand for Swimming Hats

Euro Swim Caps has established itself as a leader in the swimming accessory industry, known for producing high-quality, durable, and stylish Swimming Hats. Here’s why swimmers and teams trust Euro Swim Caps:

Quality Assurance: Euro Swim Caps uses premium materials that ensure durability, comfort, and performance, making them a trusted brand among competitive and leisure swimmers alike.

Customization Expertise: Specializing in Custom Swimming Hats, Euro Swim Caps allows swimmers to express their unique style or team identity with vibrant, professional-grade printing.

Wide Range of Options: From silicone to latex and Lycra, Euro Swim Caps offers an extensive selection of materials and designs to suit every swimmer’s preference.

Commitment to Customer Satisfaction: Euro Swim Caps is dedicated to providing excellent customer service, helping clients choose the right products and offering guidance on customization options.

Whether you’re a competitive swimmer looking for a performance boost or a team seeking a unified look, Euro Swim Caps has the perfect Swimming Hat for you.

Frequently Asked Questions

How do I choose between silicone and latex swimming hats? Silicone caps are durable, stretchy, and gentle on hair, making them a great option for frequent swimmers. Latex caps are thinner and offer a snug fit, ideal for competitions where drag reduction is essential.

Can I customize a swimming hat for personal use? Absolutely! Euro Swim Caps offers custom options for individuals who want to add a personal touch to their swimming hats.

How long do swimming hats last? With proper care, swimming hats can last for several months or even years. Factors such as frequency of use, material, and care habits affect their longevity.

Do custom designs fade over time? Euro Swim Caps uses high-quality printing techniques that ensure designs remain vibrant and fade-resistant, even with regular use in chlorinated water.

Are custom swimming hats available for kids? Yes, Euro Swim Caps offers customizable options for all ages, including kids’ sizes.

Conclusion: Enhance Your Swimming Experience with Euro Swim Caps

Investing in a quality Swimming Hat enhances your experience in the water, whether you’re training, competing, or swimming for leisure. The right cap reduces drag, protects hair, and allows swimmers to express their identity through customization. With Euro Swim Caps, you have access to a wide range of Custom Swimming Hats that combine functionality with style, catering to both individual swimmers and teams.

For those seeking a reliable, high-quality Swimming Hat provider, Euro Swim Caps is a top choice. Explore the variety of options available, personalize your swim cap, and make a statement in the pool. Embrace the benefits of wearing a quality swim cap from Euro Swim Caps and see the difference it makes in your swimming performance and comfort. Whether you’re an athlete or a recreational swimmer, Euro Swim Caps has the perfect hat for you. Dive in and make a splash with confidence and style!

Visit our website now to place your order!

Website: Euro Swim Caps Email: info@euroswimcaps.com Call us: +44 1384 262335

[swimhat12]

Why Are Team Swimming Hats Essential? Swim Hat Co

Matching Team Swimming Hats foster a sense of unity and belonging among swimmers. By sharing a cohesive look, teammates often feel more motivated and connected, boosting their collective spirit. This simple yet impactful gesture enhances team morale, making it valuable both in practice sessions and during competitions.

Make Your Order Now

Website: www.swimhatco.com/ E-mail: sales@swimhatco.com Call: +44 1384 262335

[swimink]

Choosing the Right Swim Caps: A Guide for High Schools, Swim Schools, and Custom Designs

Swim caps are an essential part of any swimmer's gear & they are especially necessary for high school swim teams and swim schools. Not only do they protect hair from chlorine damage. Swim caps for High Schools also help to streamline the swimmer's head and reduce drag in the water.

In this blog post, we will explore the different types of swim caps available for high schools & swim schools also custom swim cap designs. We'll cover the pros and cons of each type and provide tips for choosing the best swim cap for your needs.

First, we'll look at swim caps for high schools. We'll discuss the importance of choosing caps that are durable, comfortable, and easy to put on and take off. We'll also cover the different materials available, including silicone, latex, and lycra.

Next, we'll explore swim caps for swim schools. We'll talk about the importance of choosing caps that are easy to clean and sanitize, and we'll cover some of the features that are especially important for swim school use, such as bright colors for easy identification and adjustable sizing for a variety of head sizes.

Finally, we'll dive into the world of custom swim caps. We'll talk about the benefits of designing your caps, including team spirit and brand recognition. We'll also cover the different customization options available, such as color, logo placement, and text.

By the end of this blog post, you'll have a better understanding of the different types of swim caps available and which ones are best suited for your specific needs. Whether you're a high school swim coach, a swim school owner, or just looking to design your custom swim caps, this guide has got you covered.

[swiminkonline]

Silicone custom printed swim caps

Stand out in the water with Swimink's silicone custom printed swim caps. Personalize your swim gear and make a lasting impression with vibrant designs and superior quality. Dive into the world of custom swim caps and elevate your swimming experience with Swimink.

[hoshigray]

Just want to start and say hiiiii I love the work you put out and I can't get over how amazing they are. Since you said your inbox is open I was thinking about Life Guard Choso and a little lips to lips action by the pool side at night. Include anything else you see fit I don't mind☺️.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg tyyyy !! and yippee, a choso request :DD haven't written for him in a long while

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: lifeguard! Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing; making out - sexual acts in a public place; hotel pool room - breast fondling + sucking - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! + f! receiving) - praising - implied v + p insertion (ends with cowgirl) - implied unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - cameo: Nobara (best friend) - Choso having a lil crush on reader, and lowkey being horny on the job, lawl - reader lowkey being flirty and taking the lead role.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

“—Khhh, ohooo, ohhhmyGod, Chosoooo, your tongue feels so good!”

“Hoooohh, Ch’soooo, right there! Keep scraping me right there…!”

As lifeguarding night shifts go, last night’s had to be the most bewildering Choso has ever endured.

He sits on the lifeguard chair, observing the indoor pool area inside the hotel where he’s working during spring break.  Luckily, there weren’t many customers coming to use the pool during his shifts — especially the night ones. So, all Choso had to do was watch the hours go by, go to his lunch break, and occasionally come back if he was called in for the night shift. 

What sounds like a manageable task turns out to be otherwise because someone is sitting at the edge of the pool and captures Choso’s observant brown eyes from time to time. It’s you, sitting at the edge with your feet submerged in the water as you converse with your friend — he picks up their name is Nobara – about the joys of your spring break adventures for the past few days. 

Your frequent giggles and sweet voice are difficult for him to ignore, sneaking glances under his cap to see you, shooting himself internally for taking advantage to look at you in your cute one-piece swimsuit that hugged your curves nicely. And then the warmth of his blood swiftly changes to freezing temperature when your eyes land on him, averting his gaze back into the water before him.

The ripples of the water have him thinking back on the night shift last night, his cheeks reddening as he recollects the memories…

It was a lonely shift as Choso was the only person in the indoor pool area. It wasn’t until the hour touched two hours behind midnight when the door opened and came you. As someone who’s been lowkey crushing on you for the past few days, this immediately became the worst-case scenario for the young lifeguard, forced to gawk and examine your graceful swimming and two-piece figure. 

He’s been doing that for a solid fifteen minutes, suffering in silence while his eyes scan the curves of your thighs and legs and follow the droplets of water trickle down to your cleavage. Eyeing you with such indecency, what an inappropriate thing as a lifeguard.

And it comes back to bite him on the ass when you walk out of the pool and approach him to his chair, startling the pecan brown-haired hotel worker. “Hey there,” you say so charmingly, practically inviting him with just the greeting. “I can’t help but think you’re lonely here just watching me swim…Would you humor me and accompany me? Would feel bad I’m the reason you’re here doing your job at such a late hour…”

Choso knew he should shoot down the offer as he was still on duty. However, judging by how it was nearly an hour and a half from closing the pool and that most of the other hotel workers were gone, a tiny part of him was pinching him to accept the proposal of his mini-crush. It’s just a swim, in the water and out, right…?

That’s what he kept telling himself as he was following and talking with you in the pool; although every time you referred to him by his name, swam circles around his rigid body, or tittered at his words, that statement was demonstrated worthless. The lights from inside the water illuminated your frame lured Choso in with every minute, your eyes sparkling like the broken surface tension of the water.

“Hey, Choso,” God, he couldn’t believe you were calling him by his name; it sounded too dreamlike to be reality. “Have you ever given someone CPR?”

“Uhh, yeah, like once or twice,” he replied while averting his eyes to the other side of the room as if that would help his pinkish blush not be seen by you.

“Really?” You probed, bringing your frame for the water to reach your chin. “You must know the procedure pretty well, then…Hey, let me test you then!”

Huh? “What now?”

“Okay, I’m gonna pretend to drown, and you do whatever lifeguard procedure you do to get me out of the water.” You said it with such a beaming attitude that Choso couldn’t tell if you were serious. They can’t be serious…And then, you took a giant breath before allowing your body to be completely submerged in the water, sinking to the pool floor.

Choso looked to where you were for about five seconds; you two were at around the 4th or 5th feet of the pool — there’s no way you had to be serious. But five seconds turned to ten, and you didn’t exhibit any signs of wanting to breach. It caused his jaw to drop; no shot, they’re actually serious!

With haste, Choso waddles down to your spot and drives himself into the water, taken aback in perplexity when you greeted him with a wave. He then brings a hand under your legs and one to your shoulder, breaching with you in bridal style. He voices his bafflement, “Wh–What was that idea?”

“Hahaha, took you long enough; you’re a pretty terrible lifeguard for taking your sweet time rescuing me!” You jest to him, the comment poking right through Choso’s stature and dignity. 

“I didn’t know you were serious or not…”

“Drowning is always a serious issue,” you bat your eyes at him before poking the mark across his face. It wasn’t until then that Choso realized how close he had you, your face two inches away from his, and the top of your two-piece now in his line of sight for your cleavage to capture his dangerous curiosity. He turns his head to show some modesty he has left, but it’s too late; you saw him. A twinge of your lip forms a pleasant grin, “Well, you know what happens next, right?”

He blinks and brings his face back in your direction. Surely you didn’t mean that, asking the following to make sure, “Wh…What?”

“Mouth-to-mouth, of course!” Oh, this was going way too far, the poor lifeguard holding you frozen still at your goal. “Why, you don’t want to put your lips on me? Or were you sneaking glances at me these past few days for nothing?” Another arrow that shot him down; you knew!? “You’re not quite subtle, you know. Hehe, but I find that kinda cute.” 

Choso tried to explain himself, but what only came out was stammers and squeaks. Your gaze had him internally nervous and exposed, so you had to poke him even more, “So? Are you gonna leave your drowning rescuee’s lips alone or save me?”

He gulped at the phrasing, struggling to find the words to give to you. Not you were giving him a chance because your face was moving closer to his every second he didn’t answer. And when your eyelids come down, Choso hesitantly does as well and brings his lips onto your soft ones. 

The first peck was long, yet sweetly introduced you two together. You snaked your hand up his pecs to his neck, inviting him to kiss you a second time. His restraint dissolved with every sedation of your lips on his, and it vanished wholly when his ears picked up a moan. He becomes more adventurous and chews on your bottom lip, and the whimper you let out ignites something that he’s been dying to contain for this long. 

A hot and steamy kiss that was built up to happen here and now, and Choso relishes having you like this like it’s a dream. You break the kiss with a gasp for air, panting alongside him with a smile. “Well then, do I have to tell you what should happen next, too?”

When Choso silently leads you out of the pool with him, you are pleased that you don’t have to.

“—Khhh, ohooo, ohhhmyGod, Chosoooo, your tongue feels so good!”

Choso moved you to one of the cushioned chaise lounge chairs to lie as he ripped you off your bottoms and greeted your lower half with attention. Being between your legs was far from what he ever imagined; however, with how you tase on his tongue and the wails you’re letting out for him, he can’t find it in himself to stop now. 

He licks your clit with a circle, and you squeak at the motion. “Mmmm…feeling’ good there, Y/n?”

“Ohhh, yesss, oh yessss,” you respond with a hazed expression, letting your euphoric sounds fill the quiet indoor pool room occupied by you two. “Fuuuck, lick me more, please…”

Even your requests to him were dear to his ears, obliging your folds with feverish laps and swirls. Your cries become louder, legs jolting with ever every lave and suck of your leaking fluids. But Choso holds you by the thighs, massage them to relax your body. Damn, you felt so soft to his fingers, wanting to have his hands on you for as long as he can.

You bite your lip when your hand grabs tuffs of his down brunette hair, egging him to give your clitoris more kisses and hurried licks that almost have you choke on your spit. “Oh, myGod—Mmmph! You’re so good at this, Choso…Ahhhh, oh fuck, feels too gooood…!”

Choso lifts his head to lock his chocolate eyes with yours, examining your reaction when he switches his tongue with a forefinger bullying inside your vagina. The insertion has your bold jerk upwards, squirming at the finger that’s scraping the velvety texture of your vaginal walls. He then kisses from your thigh up to your abdomen, sucking on your skin to tease. Once he comes up to your top piece, he uses his free hand to bring it up and finally releases your breasts for his eyes to survey. His mouth doesn’t waste time having a nipple inside, licking on the bud as he gropes the other breast.

“Ahhnn! Hahhh, hehe, you look so hot doing that,” you comment, making the young man sneak a glance at you before he sucks and nibbles on the nipple. His finger inside your cunt goes faster, having you whine when his thumb comes to your clit. Swipes to the delicate button erupt howls from your agape mouth, “Ohhhh, Hoooohh, Ch’soooo, right there! Keep scraping me right there…pleaseee, don’t stop…!”

He withdrew from your nipple with a soft “pop” from his lips, bringing his face inches close to yours. “Gonna cum on my fingers, yeah?” He asks to distract you from the sneaking middle finger that invades between your folds. The two digits work together to reach places you couldn’t, rubbing and scratching your inner walls with tips. 

“Yesss, yesss, I’m gonna cum…! More, more—Oh, Ohooo!” Choso kisses you again, and you happily mewl into his lips as your orgasm climbs up with the pace of his fingers and his thumb pressing and swiping on your clit. Your chasm clamps onto his digits, bringing your hands to his face to keep the kiss going as your climax hits you.

Shocks from your body prompt you to tremble under him, the walls of your slit contract around his fingers, and your hips involuntarily sway to ride out the phases of your clarity. You suck on Choso’s tongue; his groans are music to your ears while your hand travels down to his swim trunks and feels the tent of his groin.

He moans, breaking the kiss to look where your hand is. You chuckle, “It’s time to return the favor. Come on, let’s switch.”

He follows your lead and takes the position you had previously, watching you situate yourself between his legs as you bring his trunks down to have his erection spring out. He panics a little when you gasp aloud while marveling at his limb, “My, what a long thing you were hiding from me…”

Your compliment has the blush on his ears scorch him with unbearable heat, and you keep eye contact while your plump lips place kisses on the sensitive pink tip of his cock. He hitches his breath at the contact, especially at your hand, grasping his length and beginning stroking motions.

Your tongue dances around his glans and presses on the frenulum, nibbling on the rough skin while your free hand goes to his testicles, softly kneading them to provoke moans to leave his lips. “Such cute sounds from such a cute guy; keep making more for me, okay?” He places a hand on your head, a sign that you take initiative to pop his dick into your mouth. 

Bobbing your head up and down, you take in Choso’s shaft inch by inch, the warmth of your mouth doing wonders to his senses. A hand grips the cushion of the tongue chair he’s lying on, and shivers crawl up his spine when you mumble after taking it to the hilt as your voice travels through his body. 

“Mmmm…Nngohh, fuck,” he curses with furrowed brows, biting his lip when sensing your tongue lick the underside of his cock. Fuck, your mouth felt so damn good — it took everything for Choso not to rut into your mouth voluntarily. Your tight throat didn’t make it any better, and the walls enveloping his entire girth had him drooling. 

Puffed cheeks suck on him leisurely, your lips coated from the saliva covering him, the noises so erotic and out of this world. You continue to massage his balls while your mouth occupies him, alternating with your hands to go down and suck on his balls roughly.

Here is where Choso finds it hard to contain himself with every second, his thighs jerking with every sign of pleasure, throwing his head back when his dick is back inside your gummy throat. Hips subtly propel to your mouth to create more friction, and he whimpers as you happily accept him with mumbled wails and restlessly jerk him off. 

“—Kahhnn, nnmgh, shit, Yn,” your name sounds like a dazed slur, the hand purchased on your head eggs you to go faster. He almost bites his tongue when yours teases his urethra for more of his precum, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming…shiiit, ohh…!”

And you give him aid, sucking on his cock harder and bobbing frantically while you use both your hands to pleasure him more. The commotion of his lower half corrupts all of his senses, hanging by a thread to hang on and howl your name out. One last lap and harsh suck on his glans induces a choked groan, and Choso finally ejaculates into your mouth.

With the thirst pump, you instantly take him back inside your throat, drinking every bit of his load exuding from his throbbing member. He thrusts as you suck him, his orgasm shaking his being with every rut and sob. He heaves and pants, your name said in helpless prayers while you suck his soul out. And, God, does he fucking love it so.

You give him mercy and release his shaft, placing more tiny kisses on it while watching Choso’s quaking frame calm down. And when he does, you bring your body off from between his legs. “Thank you for saving me, Choso.” You crawl to place a gentle kiss on his lips with a hum, and then you relish the cute sounds he makes as your wet cunt meets his length. 

“Let me reward you by pampering you more...”

“….—op, don’t stare at him so hard!”

“Is that him?”

Choso snaps back to the present when he hears familiar voices speak — it is you and Nobara he finds that are looking at you from across the poolside. Nobara being the one staring dead at him; your best friend’s eyes feel like daggers piercing Choso’s pale skin. It made him gulp with nervousness.

Then, she cocks her head and leans to speak. “Doesn’t look so bad; don’t know about that mark on his face, though…How long was it, again?”

“Shhh, be quiet!” You slap her arm to silence her, making the mistake of looking at Choso. You two look into each other’s gazes for a few seconds, the warmth of your cheeks creeping up and having you two sever your faces elsewhere. 

Nobara saw the exchange, lifting a brow before asking you, “So, do you want me to give him your number, or would you like to fuck him again before that—Oww!!“ Another slap to her bare shoulder, she winces this time.

“Jesus Christ, shut up!”

@screampied 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[elitisim]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS, DAY 7: 7 Swans-A-Swimming. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

Today's gift is for the simmies who's ideal "white Christmas" involves luxurious white sand beaches instead of dreary instead of winter snowfalls! Day 7 of [ELITISIM'S 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS ADVENT EXTRAVAGANZA!] is all about swimwear sets for the whole family*!**(except for teens and elders because genuinely who cares about those life states tbh.)

Yep, So for both genders of each age state (toddler, child, and adult) you're getting at least 3 items for each (plus a handful of accessories and extras because you guys know I'm excessive). That's WAY more than 7 items because atp the day numbers are more suggestions than hard and fast rules.

None of this is my original work! All mesh and texture credit goes to the original creators: @backtrack-cc, @darte77, @daisypixelss, @gorillax3-cc, @amelylinaa, @ooobsooo, @MysteriousOo, @christopher067,

Everything has custom thumbnails, Lods and Morphs.

Includes a couple extra accessories that aren't pictured in the gifs. But they are in the stills under the cut.

Static preview pictures, and download links for everything is under the cut.

MOST of these clothes are from before I figured out my new actually decent decimation style, so they're pretty high poly, sorry.

[DOWNLOAD MERGED]

[DOWNLOAD UNMERGED]

[PICK AND CHOOSE]

tagging: @pis3update, @kpccfinds, @xto3conversionsfinds

YA MALES

Gorillax3 - Beach Board Shorts

Original Here!

Bottom for YA-Adult Males

Categories: Everyday, Swim, Sleep, Athletic

4.5k poly

Fully Recolorable - 4 Channels

Includes all LODS, Morphs, and Custom Thumbnails

[DOWNLOAD]

Ooboosoo - Kkbasic set 21 Top and Bottom

Original Here!

Top and Bottom for YA-Adult Males

Categories: Everyday, Swim, Sleep, Athletic

4.5k poly for bottom // 4.7k poly for top

Fully Recolorable - 4 Channels

Includes all LODS, Morphs, and Custom Thumbnails

[DOWNLOAD TOP] [DOWNLOAD BOTTOM]

Nucrests - Oceanfront Cap

Original Here!

Hat for Teen ➤ Elder Males & Females

Located in Glasses Category

Categories: Everyday, Swim, Athletic

1.5k poly

Fully Recolorable - 4 Channels

Hat Slider Enabled

Includes all LODS, Morphs, and Custom Thumbnails

[DOWNLOAD HERE FOR TEEN - ADULTS]

YA FEMALES

Backtrack - Isla Bikini Top and Bottom

Original Here!

top and bottom for YA-Adult female

Category: swim, sleep, for bottom // everyday, formal, swim, sleep, athletic for top

5.6k poly for bottom // 4.9k for top

Fully Recolorable - 4 Channels for bottom // 1 channel for top

Includes all LODS, Morphs, and Custom Thumbnails

disabled for random enabled for maternity

[DOWNLOAD TOP][DOWNLOAD BOTTOM]

Backtrack - Steh Bikini Top and Bottom

Original Here!

top and bottom for YA-Adult female

Category: swim, sleep, for bottom // everyday, formal, swim, sleep, athletic for top

8.6k for top // 6.7k for bottom

Fully Recolorable - 2 Channels

Includes all LODS, Morphs, and Custom Thumbnails

Disabled for random,enabled for maternity

[DOWNLOAD TOP][DOWNLOAD BOTTOM]

Backtrack - Jane Bikini Top and Bottom

Original Here!

top and bottom for YA-Adult female

Category: swim, sleep, for bottom // everyday, formal, swim, sleep, athletic for top

7.9k for top // 6.1k for bottom

Fully Recolorable - 2 Channels

Includes all LODS, Morphs, and Custom Thumbnails

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Gorillax3 - Buckle Straps Bikini

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Outfit for YA-Adult females

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9.4k poly

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Backtrack - Naia Sarong Skirt

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for Teen ➤ Elder Females

Located in Arm Band Category

Categories: Everyday, Formal, Swim, Sleep, Athletic, Outerwear

3.4k polys

Fully Recolorable - 1 Channel + 2 textures: sheer and solid

textures get wonky if you use cc eyelashes with it, fine otherwise

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Enriques4 - Retro Heart Glasses

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Glasses for Teen ➤ Elder Males & Females

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3.4k polys

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CHILD

Mysteriouso0 - Two-Piece Swimsuit With Ruffles

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top and bottom for child female

Category: everyday, formal, swim, sleep, athletic for top// sleep, swim for bottom

2.8k poly for bottom // 4.3k for top

Fully Recolorable - 4 Channels

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Mysteriouso0 - Sports Time Shorts

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Category: everyday, swim, sleep, athletic for

1.5k poly

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Amelynlina - Jenny Shorts

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Bottom for Child Male + Female

Category: everyday, swim, sleep, athletic

2.9k poly

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DaisyPixels - Kelly Top and Bottom

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top and bottom for Child Females

Category: everyday, formal, swim, sleep, athletic for top// sleep, swim for bottom

xk polys for top // 4.1 poly for bottom

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Nucrests - Oceanfront Cap

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1.5k poly

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TODDLER

Daisy Pixels: Azul Swimsuit

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6k poly

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Daisy Pixels: Noah Swimsuit

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Daisy Pixels: Rex Shorts

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6k poly

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aisy Pixels: Azul Donut

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For Toddler Males & Females

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500 poly

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Daisy Pixels: Azul Hat

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1.2 poly

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[littlexdeaths]

the car troubles saga comes to a close?

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

the last installment of the car troubles saga for now… but you’ll definitely be seeing more of these two 🥰

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

the sounds of grinding metal and loud rock music fill your ears as you step into sinclair’s auto repair shop.

the chatter among the shop is incessant as you look over the multiple cars until you find your 1979 chevy caprice parked amongst the rest.

but your heart leaps into your throat when you see a familiar pair of legs sticking out from underneath it.

“yo, munson! got a customer!”

you can hear his curse and the banging of a head, and you can’t help but giggle softly when he rolls out from underneath your car. he’s rubbing his dinged forehead, and in the process he accidentally swipes more grease across his skin.

but when his eyes find yours they soften, and he grins widely. once he returns to his feet, he’s wiping the remaining grease onto the rag that he shoves in the back pocket of his coveralls. it’s then that he takes you in fully, dressed in a pretty little sundress and sandals.

you’re a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. the weather is somehow even more sweltering than the day before, and the beads of sweat sticking to your skin almost sparkle in the bright lights of the garage.

“so, what’s the damage?” you ask teasingly once you reach him.

eddie just chuckles, hand hovering over the small of your back as he guides back towards your car. but the barely there touch has your heart racing.

“well, you had a faulty radiator cap, and were in desperate need of an oil change…. when was the last time you got one?”

you bite your lip, a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you. “uh, last fall… i think?”

his answering groan has you giggling again despite yourself, and eddie leans his hip against the hood of your car.

“now let me tell you what’s gonna happen,” he chuckles. “you’re gonna march that pretty little ass of yours in here six months from now to get that changed, got it?”

you nod, feeling a little flustered at the mention of your ass and pretty in the same sentence. and by his subtle smirk, he knows the effect he has on you.

“alright well, i’m all finished here. we can step in the office and discuss payment options, yeah?”

but as soon as that door closes behind you he has you pressed against it, palms on either side of your head as kisses you deeply.

“been thinking about you all night, sweetheart.” he groans, lips trailing over your jaw as you tug him closer by the collar of his coveralls.

“was half tempted to sneak in through your bedroom window like some horny teenager.” he laughs softly, reveling in the soft mewls that leave your lips.

“who’s to say i would’ve let you in?” you tease, earning you a small nip on your collarbone.

“you wouldn’t, huh?” he taunts, rough hands sliding up your thigh to the hem of your dress.

your breath catches in your throat as he hooks one of your legs up on his hip, and then his lips are back on yours. he smells like sweat and grease but something so distinctly eddie that it makes your head swim.

but a sudden knock on the glass window to your left has you pulling apart, heart thumping as eddie all but groans in annoyance.

“munson, got another car waiting out front. wrap it up.”

you’re thankful then that the blinds— while bent from frequent use, are shut. no need to give his coworkers a free show.

“be right out mr. sinclair,” eddie calls back, though his words are slightly muffled as he presses them to your throat.

another giggle spills past you as you tip his chin up, his brown eyes smoldering as they meet your own.

“you do this to with all your paying customers?” you say with mock offense.

eddie just rolls his eyes as steps back from you, but not before pressing one last searing kiss to your pouted lips.

“you didn’t think i was actually gonna charge you for that, right?”

[phasecornnuts]

I would love to power bottom Valentino from hazbin hotel ples 😏 also I LOVE angst so maybe a bit of that 😌 head cannons or a fic doesn’t matter I love words

Hello again whores! This is over 16k words…. I think I may have a problem, but I cooked so whatever

Tbh I may open writing commissions bc I love y’all but if I’m writing biblical epics I lowkey would appreciate being paid (college is expensive) 😭

CW: For general angst and Drug use

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hated working nights, but working for Val always meant you worked nights. If someone were to ask you to write a list of everything you disliked about the club, you’d swear the exterminators would be here by the time you were done with it. But alas, it was what it was and there was nothing you could do to change it. That fucking contract made sure of that.

There were a few things that could make your shift bearable though. You liked Angel, even though he didn’t really come by anymore because of that stupid hotel, you liked the free drinks, even though Val made sure they were watered down after you vomited on a customer, and you liked the pills Val would give you, even though they made you feel loopy when you preformed. Those were the shit. Grade A. Top tier. Happiness in a tablet the size of your fingernail.

In your dressing room you watched the clock, five minutes. God, you were already sweating in the shitty outfit Val made you wear for tonight. A frilly maid outfit with black lingerie underneath, the man wanted a strip-tease and he was gonna have it one way or another. With Angel gone, you were the only other person he thought was worth headlining. That felt good to hear, even if you were only second choice. Maybe Angel being gone was a good thing, not for him but for you, maybe Val would see that you’re better than him, that you tried more. Maybe then you could be the star, and not just the understudy. Maybe, maybe, maybe; The word’s rhythm wavered in your head.

Hoping for Val to want you was fruitless though, you knew. Angel was the golden goose- or spider, you supposed - and it would take an act of god for someone to eclipse him. You took your eyes off the clock, knowing getting lost in your thoughts would just lead to a spiral of self-loathing. You closed your eyes and released a heavy sigh. On your table, beside your makeup and phone stood a fluorescent orange bottle. Unscrewing the cap you let loose three in your palm before capping the bottle. You ran the pad of your thumb over the tiny white buttons, smooth and chalky, before placing them in a row on your tongue, all washed down with watery gin. A twisted communion.

You lean back in your chair, wondering when the pills are gonna kick in. About two minutes pass before you hear the door to your dressing room open and a tired waitress with smudgy blue eyeliner and a crooked wig tilts her head towards the hallway to tell you it’s time for you to get on stage. Walking past her, you can smell a heavy peach scented perfume she used to try to cover the smell of sweat. Your heels clacked on the tile floor as you walked up to the entrance of the stage. You scratched your back from the itchy fabric of the costume, then adjusted the tops of your stockings. The song that’s currently playing ends and the performer before you walks to the back, they’re huffing and tired. They stretch and pop their back before looking at you, mouthing “Good luck.” The DJ of the club took a beat before announcing you to the crowd. Rolling your shoulders, you walked on stage feeling the hot spotlights shine on you.

That’s when it hits.

All of the tension you held in your body lifted, and your mind began to swim as you felt the Oxy kick in. Fuck, they really were the best. They made you feel warm and floaty, made the world seem bearable. You swung your hips seductively as you sauntered to the pole, ready to begin your act. Looking around, all the faces of the crowd blended together. It felt like the world was painted in watercolor, all of its harsh edges gone, replaced with washes that drifted out into nothing.

A chemical confidence kicked in then. Those languid movements of yours had everyone entranced, grinding your sex to the pole as you teased eager watchers with a peek up your skirt. Over the music you could hear their hoots and wolf-whistles, then frenzy when you began to shimmy off your top, exposing that black bra you had on under. You throw it out into the crowd, grateful not to have that polyester piece of shit on you anymore. The way they all clamor to catch it made you bite your bottom lip with a smirk. They were all so pathetic.

You spun on the ball of your foot, but the weightlessness of your opioid addled body worked against you, making you fall. Luckily you caught yourself on your hands, pretending it was some sultry move like a lady in a porno. The crawling was good though, you pretended to fuck the stage before you got to the center. You leaned back on your hands, stretching out a heeled foot that they all begged to touch. One almost did, before you snatched it away.

Slipping off that ugly skirt and kicking it off into the drunken crowd felt so good. They were transfixed, enthralled, however you wanted to put it. Your high made everything better, blanketing your body in comfort- That was always the peak. Savoring those small moments that made them scream. Looping and spinning and sliding and going upside down, stretching your legs out spread-eagle. When you felt the room start to spiral you stopped with your back to it for support. With a fake sexiness you slid your hand down your stomach, into those thin painties before taking it out.

God, it felt good to be desired even if it was like this. Sure, Val didn’t want you, but they did. All those sinners and hell-born who clamored to touch you and have you touch them. How they fought over an ugly, scratchy top because you wore it.

Turning your head you saw a wide-eyed patron ignoring a half-drank glass. You smirk and crawl towards them, and their eyes turn to the size of saucers. Reaching the edge of the stage you lean over, hanging over their small table. You opened your mouth wide enough to kiss- But you didn’t. You let your tongue hang out of your mouth, letting a fat drop of spit land in their drink. That was all they could have of you; You smile and go back to the stage to continue your act.

You don’t know how long he’d been standing there when you saw him. Valentino. He nips at his cigarette while he looks at you, not knowing what he’s thinking. Your moves become bigger, looser, hoping to impress him. A glob of phlegm sits at the back of your mouth and you swallow, feeling the tenseness grow inside your body. I can be good too, see! I’m as good as Angel! Even better! Please…please don’t fire me.

He walks closer to the stage as you keep grinding on the pole. Your eyes meet for a second before you look away, unsure. When he reaches the edge of the stage is when you slam yourself to the floor- the crowd hollered. Val adjusts his glasses and takes a long, long drag from his cigarette. Your body cranes towards him, head lowered in reverence while you studied his face. Val was always so hard to read, that’s the thing you hated most about him - well, at least one of them- was he displeased, impressed, disinterested? Fuck if you knew.

With one hand he pinched your face, between his pointer and thumb. He pressed his mouth to yours, filling it with all of that warm smoke. The roof of your mouth hurt so much, but the rest of your body trembled. He’d never been this open, kissing you, watching you dance, it felt so, so good to have his attention. Val pulled away, pink cloud leaving your parted lips.

Valentino leaned in, “Meet me in the back.”

“I still have five minutes left…”

“I’m your boss.” There was a vague sternness to his words, what were five minutes compared to his regard?

You breathed heavily. “Gimme a second.”

Quickly as you could you got off stage. Your head was spinning and you couldn’t tell why- was it the Oxy? The drink? The dancing? The cigarette? All of them combined. The backstage was full of cold air, making goosebumps prickle over your legs. You crossed your forearms and leaned them on the wall. Eyes closed, you counted backwards from 100; 100, 99, 98, 97- Val with his cigarette showed up in your mind, how he pulled your mouth to his, how you shivered, how you liked it. You tried again, but he kept lingering. Another restart, going a bit longer this time, but you gave up somewhere around 56.

Through the backstage hallway you walked to the back, The Velvet Rooms. Those fancy, gilded places hidden away that only those Val liked - or who could afford it- could enter. Valentino hid himself away in the biggest one, a room within the wall closed off with heavy dark blue curtains. The Velvet Rooms were where Overlords and certain Goetia came to be spat on, spanked, and other “peculiar wants” that Val catered to.

Opening the curtains you were struck with the heavy scent of his smoke. You closed them shut, the room illuminated by a faint pink light. Val sat on the couch, legs spread wide and arms slung over the top, his heavy coat thrown to some unknown corner. Seeing him reminded you of how little clothes you had on. Val’s second set of arms beckoned you over, you obeyed. He rested them on your waist, idly feeling the texture of your garter belt.

“Good of you to come carino,” He kissed your stomach, tittering at the way you quivered. “You did so good I had to meet with you privately.”

“How could I deny you Valcito?” You responded in a honeyed tone that made him chuckle.

“Valcito?” He smirked.

“Aren’t you?” You tilt his head up to see your smiling face, dressed with sultry bedroom eyes, “My little Valcito who liked my dancing.”

Val showed off that gold tooth of his; He kissed your stomach again, leaving a little red mark.

You dropped your hands to his arms, sliding up to his biceps. You bit your lip, so hard and toned. For so long you were curious about Val’s body, his sex, his libido. You wondered what he did to Angel to make him so sore and his voice so hoarse. It was embarrassing how many nights you spent thinking about what he tasted like- though now there was no point, you knew now, cigarettes and citrus vodka.

The tips of his fingers traced along your hips, fingering the thin strap of your panties. Your voice grew weak as he nipped again and again at the soft flesh of your stomach. Mind in a daze, words slipped out of your mouth.

“You know, I’m surprised you called me back here…” A kitten-lick across your navel that made you squirm.

“Why’s that Carino? Don’t think you’re pretty enough?” His voice teased.

“I thought you didn’t like women”

“Why would you think that?” He looped his finger around the hip strap again

“Angel.” He snickered.

“Oh Carino, don’t worry. Angel is just the soup D’Jour,” His finger dipped forward along your hip bone, “Men, women; Women, men; all of those sweet things in-between, how could you pick just one?”

“How poignant.” You said with a bit of a flat affect. His waxing-poetic seemed so unimpressive to you. Though, you felt a stab of guilt for thinking so.

“You, Sugar, I just can’t deny,” Val moved his hands up along your torso, stopping just underneath your breasts, “Good tits, nice stomach, pretty face,” his attention went back to your panties, “You coulda been on the cover of Hustler. Hhhnn, maybe I’ll make you the centerfold this month…”

You leaned over him, pressing your face to his. Fuck, his tongue felt so good in your mouth, making your stomach start to knot and squirm. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whine before you pulled away. Placing tiny nips on his neck, you felt the heat in your stomach grow hotter and hotter and turn to slick. You wanted to touch him, feel him, consume him, and be consumed.

Val pulled away for a second, but it felt like forever. He reached into a shallow pocket and produced a button of something. It was a tiny tablet, waxy and fat, and pinched between his two fingers. You wondered what it was, it didn’t look like Oxy. You hoped it was something stronger, desiring the out of body experience you’d been losing since you started to grow tolerant of the opiate.

“You ever play a game of rolling roulette Sugar?” Val asked, you shook your head no.

“You trade the X tongue to tongue, and whoever’s it dissolves on is the lucky winner.” Oh so it was Ecstasy, now that’s good shit.

Val pulled you onto his lap, cupping a breast, “C’mon Baby, let’s go on a trip together…”

That’s all it took.

The tiny pill teetered between both of your tongues as you kissed, growing smaller and smaller and smaller. Val’s spit was thick and sweet and wonderful, something about it making your body go alight with electricity. The X melted so easy, like blue cotton candy; You could feel the serotonin swell in your brain like a party balloon.

When the first roll happened you moaned into Val’s mouth. All of your nerves were standing on edge, shivering with anticipation. He removed your bra, placing a nipple in his mouth as you felt his cock grow harder. It felt so much better than your other highs. The Oxy only ever calmed things, washed them out. The X was so different, so so much better. Everything seemed to shimmer, like the whole world was wrapped in cellophane. How could you think the absence of feeling was so wonderful when this existed?

Your mind was in a twinkly daze when you started to undress him. He kissed and licked at your neck while you felt your way through unbuttoning his top. Fuck, his skin was so smooth and warm; He pressed you closer, teeth bit into your collar bone before dragging his tongue over the marks he left.

You kissed your way down Val’s body. At his chest you lingered, leaving tiny red marks on the trail to his V-line. Valentino’s head lolled back on the couch as you unzipped his cock with all of its dark hair. You put it in your hand, running your thumb over the leaking tip. He swore under his breath as you pumped him slowly, up and down up and down.

The warmth of your tongue dragged along his thick shaft. Your stomach gets a sharp squirm to it, same as your cunt. It’s hard to tell because of the drugs or how sexy Val looks with his legs wide open and his cock needy for your touch. Looking up at him, you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

His breath hitched when you took him in your mouth. Your tongue twists and swirls around his cock, savoring the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. To try to calm that darling pain between your legs you rubbed your thighs together, but that didn’t help. All it served to do was make your cunt needier. You push his member deeper and deeper into your mouth; You moan into his sex, making him squeeze the palmful of hair he had in his hand tighter.

“You’re so good, Carino.” He says, breathless. You start to suck him faster, blowing and kissing and licking. Val kept sprinkling compliments throughout. It felt so good to be praised by him; All of those sweet things he’d save for everyone else, but never you. You’re so good, you’re so sexy, you take me so well, you’re so pretty, you make me so hard.

“‘M close.” He grabs your hair again, pulling your face in. Feeling devious, you pulled away, savoring the flustered look on his face. Val is huffing, fucked out, and dazed out of his goddamn mind on X.

“You can stand to wait a little longer Valcito~” You nip at the inside of one of his thighs, making his voice hitch into a falsetto. You dragged the tips of your fingers up to his sensitive stomach, mouth leaving a hard bite outline near his ribs. Tracing him was so wonderful, feeling all of those hard edges give into softness. Nursing on his neck, your thumb and forefinger followed his neck muscle and collarbone, dipping into their crevices.

“Valcito~” Your breath was hot against his neck. He mumbled something under his breath and tried to slip his hand into your panties. You caught his wrist and pushed it away, biting hard on his collarbone. You can wait.

Again your mouth found its way south, the want in your cunt becoming more and more painful. You took him in your mouth again, your saliva getting thick and syrupy. Val seized the opportunity and shoved your head down on his cock, chasing the release you denied him. Your teeth grazed his member before pulling away again. Val whined, his eyes pleading. A dark smile grew on your face before you took him again.

He let out a sharp breath and pressed his hands onto your scalp. You went faster, letting the flat of your tongue trace the vein on the underside of his cock. It was fun playing with him like this, having a little control with him for once. Val’s hands tensed in your hair when he warned you he was going to cum.

When he came he wailed, filling your mouth with his salty taste. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth. Val’s thumb traced your bottom lip, admiring his work.

“You look so good like this, Carino.” He huffed.

Pushing yourself from your knees you kissed Val, his seed still in your mouth. That’s all that took to make him go feral. He pulled you to his lap and laid you down, wrapping your legs around him. Without taking his mouth off yours he took his top off, ramming into your needy sex.

Fuck, Val was bigger than you thought he was. His pace was hard and fast, making you scratch your nails into his back. Your kiss tasted like everything good in the world- cum and grapefruit and cigarettes and cotton candy and euphoria. Both of you swallowed, pulling your faces away to catch your breaths. God, you were so wet, Val’s cock slipped in and out of you so easily and it felt so goddamn good. Better than any finger or cock or toy and it made you squeeze him tighter.

You pressed your forehead to his neck, mumbling nonsense. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” Val spat on his fingers and slipped his hands between the two of you. You didn’t know what he was going to do until you felt his wet fingers graze your clit. He got rougher with it once he found it, making you squeal and cum on him.

That didn’t stop Val though, and god did it feel good. He kept fucking you through your release, making you cum another two times. Your legs felt like jelly, body weak and weightless. The X was releasing its last wave of chemical joy as he fucked you, pleasure rippling inside of you. He came inside you, making you sob into his neck. Val pressed you closer to him, whispering in your ear as you felt your release drip out of your cunt.

“You’re so good baby, so good and pretty.” Pleasepleasepleaseplease, say the magic words.

“I love you, you’re my perfect girl, my pretty baby.” You came again.

His thrusts got sloppier and you could tell he was gonna cum again. “Please, please, please, let me be your favorite, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” You whimpered.

The anticipation of an orgasm built up, shivering and needy. Val grazed your face and kissed you, “Oh you’re my favorite, baby. My little sullen girl~” He held you closer, savoring the way you squirmed when you came together.

When he was done he stayed inside you. Val pressed his head on the couch beneath you. You traced the scratches you left on his back, feeling your high from the X begin to ebb. Your breath felt so heavy and your mind so fuzzy. That all didn’t matter though, Val wanted you now. He’d been inside you, kissed you, felt you, squeezed you, and couldn’t get enough. He wanted you. So what if it was only for the moment, so what if this meant you could disappoint him, so what if you’re only a place-holder until someone better comes. You’re the favorite.

[octuscle]

I need help. This guy just walks up to me on the street and pricks my hand with a needle! He said something about me becoming a “real country boy”. The thing is, I live in the middle of the city. My friend said you could help.

Help? Yeah sure, but what exactly do you have in mind? Maybe you could sit in your smart EQ fortwo and take a look at the countryside. You seem a bit tense right now, some country air might do you good… You're struggling through inner-city traffic. The city can really suck. You're glad to be over the bridge. Slowly the air gets better. And the view is clearer. And the traffic less. Fuck, the tank is empty! You urgently need a gas station. Wait, the car is electric… Anyway, it says you need to refuel… You steer your little runabout with the last of your strength to the next gas pump. Shit, 33 gallons. Then there really wasn't a drop left in it.

You pay at the cash register in cash, credit cards are newfangled shit. And you take another coffee and a donut with you. The drive is still long. You love your Dodge RAM. Gliding down the country road in it is simply majestic. Of course, it's not made for the city. But then, neither are you. Remember when you thought you could be a veterinarian? You went to university. Far too many people in one place. You could only stand it for two semesters.

You just stop at the hardware store. You still need a few things. Old Pete is always happy to see you. And you always have time for a little chat. Life in the country is relaxed. Back in the car you take off your sweaty wifebeater. Although the sun is setting slowly, it is still very warm. You roll down the windows. The breeze cools your sweaty bare chest. You still have one customer, after which you can perhaps go down to the river and swim a bit. And with a little luck, Mikey will be there, too. You could use a little fun with his cock tonight…

The idea of dropping out of veterinary school and becoming a blacksmith in your village was the best idea of your life. You love horses, you love the people here. And you would always prefer good sex in the hayloft to slinging in the darkroom.

Hot guy with cap? Will probably be from @simonsx XD

[ronearoundblindly]

Threadbare (1)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader

Part One: Yield Strength (see series)

Summary: Steve gets to meet his favorite designer, and you get a surprise visitor at work.

Warnings: none. Maybe a bit of creepy behavior but not from Steve. Yes, I did just want to use the leather jacket gif for shiggles. What's it to ya? WC 3355

Steve Rogers hates stuffy functions. He hates the brown-nosing. He hates trying to convince people who have everything to give scraps to people with nothing. He hates watching the excess and indulgence, even when he knows it ends up giving something to those in need. He hates it. He hates the whole lot of these stupid, asinine—

Steve takes a breath and smooths his hand down the buttery fabric of a double-breasted jacket hanging next to his intended garment.

Ok, fine, he hates the functions, but he actually enjoys the dressing up part.

He didn’t used to. No. The only outfit outside of his Cap suit that ever truly fit him—before or after the serum—was his SSR uniform, and coming from a time of nothing, Steve accepted that as a huge win.

And then he woke up in this world of excess and—what do they call it? Fast-fashion?— realized that what should be easier to acquire was much, much harder to find: room to breathe.

Steve may roll his eyes at Tony’s custom everything, but he admits internally that at least Stark’s comfortable all the time. Steve would settle for being comfortable in his own skin.

This helps though, this gloriously draped, stiff in a supportive way, heavy in a grounding way, and shapely button down. He doesn’t need a whole suit tonight; it’s not that kind of event. In fact, Steve wasn’t specifically invited. He heard Tony talking about the new collection by the designer of this shirt—which happens to be the label for 90% of Steve’s dressier clothing at this point—and Steve outright volunteered himself to go with Tony.

See, Steve Rogers is now a big, broad guy, and it’s been an adjustment, as well as plain difficult, to gather a wardrobe that isn’t custom tailored due to his sheer size and proportions. The team jokes about his tight shirts, but if he buys things large enough for his shoulders, his waist swims in fabric. Steve had to live off of stretchy clothing for the first three years he was out of the ice. He wasn’t out of his Cap suit long enough for the investment to be worthwhile. Then it took another several years before he discovered Tovarich.

The man must know what it’s like to be big and broad, that’s for sure. Steve may not be much for high fashion, but he’s genuinely gotten so much comfort and enjoyment out of Mr. Tovarich’s work that Steve wants to thank him personally. For once, being Captain America is a good card to play to ensure he gets to meet the designer.

Steve adjusts his rolled sleeves a bit in the mirror, smirking at himself for being a bit of a dandy concerning his look right now, but he’s determined to have a good time out with Tony. It’s just a fashion show. How difficult can it be?

Really damn difficult, that’s what it is.

Steve isn’t prepared for the bizarre press interest in who is there instead of what is being shown. He’s used to cameras flashing at him—especially because the bright and loud pops of flashes were much worse in the ‘40s—but Steve’s in awe of the models’ complete indifference while walking a straight line with a straight face in some of the simplest, most magnificent men’s wear he’s ever seen.

If all he had to do was tick boxes on a list to order things, Steve would be in big trouble with a full bingo card and an empty wallet. It’d be worth it though.

Tony tries to talk to him every so often, but the music is outrageously loud. Steve can’t hear a thing.

He gets tapped on the shoulder by some women sitting behind him, and they try to say some more things he can’t hear.

Everyone rises to clap, and Steve joins in, overwhelmed by the fast pace of all the outfits on repeat, when the man on his other side accidentally elbows Steve and drops his program. The paper flutters to land in front of Tony’s feet, so Steve picks it up, hands it back, and the man makes an appreciative face before gesturing vaguely at the runway and mouthing his admiration. Steve nods and smiles, happy he’s not the only one fanboying over clothes.

The lights change in the venue. The photography and clapping stop. Tony starts yammering on about an after party, but Steve wants to meet the designer.

“Oh, Cap, that walk-and-wave was as close as you’re getting today. Tovarich is a hot commodity. I’ll just get you a fitting sometime.” He clamps a hand onto Steve’s shoulder and tilts his head toward the refreshments. “Shall we?”

Darn. Steve should have done more research on how fashion shows work, but he hates how invasive online snooping feels. It was fine when he was catching up on history and historical figures. However, most of the ‘news’ now is not news at all, so he avoids searching for information that way. He doesn’t ask question about Mr. Tovarich because, in theory, it’s none of Steve’s business and Steve may or may not be slightly ashamed at how obsessed he is with something as trivial as clothing.

Fashion is not something he thought about until very, very recently. The most time he’s spent worried about what he puts on is his tac suit, and the main features of that are being blade resistant and bullet proof. Those things don’t exactly interest him so much as they are in his best interest.

So Steve is rather disappointed by the outcome of the evening, but he’ll manage. For once, he’s got a tiny bright light of something to look forward to in the form of a few more dress shirts and a very sharp vest.

He goes on with life as usual.

Months later and they’re doing this thing.

It’s called the Hellfire Gala, and apparently, it’s a big, big deal. Steve’s told everyone goes all out, that he’ll need to be dressed to the nines, and he realizes this is his opportunity.

Tony’s elated to make the arrangements for him with the Tovarich Atélier and plans to go with him. He wouldn’t stop grumbling about how awkward Steve might be, raving that he can’t have Steve getting a bad rap under his clout, so Steve shows up nervous.

Tony sends a text saying he’s running late. Of course he is, today of all days.

Steve shuts his eyes and lowers his head in gratitude that there are only two seamstresses when he first arrives. The ladies—one older and one younger—offer refreshments and ask a few questions about the event and what styles he might be interested in. He explains the getup needs to highlight the ‘Cap’ persona since the gala is a celebration of their work as Avengers, but other than that, it’s the-sky’s-the-limit for Tovarich.

The younger seamstress smiles at that and calls it ‘fun.’

Sure. That’s one word for it. Steve would also call it daunting.

As instructed, he stands on a small platform while the ladies bustle about speaking quietly to each other. Steve hears Tony ring the reception bell before any measurements have started, and he heaves out a sigh of relief.

“In time for the good stuff, am I?” Stark winks.

“Always perfectly welcome, Mr. Stark,” you, the younger woman, say politely. “Would you care for anything to drink?”

“Uh,” Tony smooths his hand down his current suit front, eyes flickering to Steve, “have you met me?”

Your smile widens. “Dominica, please,” you signal to your coworker.

Between your fingers, you’ve folded a scrap of paper, something you scribbled while Steve stood awkwardly on the pedestal (which isn’t to say he has stopped standing awkwardly), and Tony snatches the paper from your grasp, unfolding it to make a challenging, inquisitive face.

Steve huffs and glares, praying his friend doesn’t start hitting on Tovarich’s employee before the man even shows up. Steve isn’t the one to be worried about.

Stark takes Dominica’s proffered tumbler of brown liquor, saying nothing.

You are a ninja with the tape measure, gentle hands sliding over his chest and waist and—Steve swallows—his hips, all while rattling off numbers…which no one writes down. Steve moves his arms and legs when told. When you’re kneeling on the edge of the platform, eye level with his crotch, Steve decides to distract himself and get some answers.

“I’ve been looking forward to my first meeting with Mr. Tovarich. When might he arrive?”

Tony clears his throat, wincing. “Not possible, buddy.”

Steve tenses.

“I thought that—“

“You can’t meet him for the the first time.” Tony holds up a hand before Steve can move. “You already did. She’s measuring the distance between your balls and the floor.”

Steve startles out a ‘what,’ snapping his legs shut with your hand between his thighs.

“Captain Steve Rogers, please meet your favorite designer,” Tony beams, shoving his tongue against the inside of his cheek and hiking up his eyebrows.

Steve shrinks, face burning.

“Hello, Captain Rogers,” you introduce yourself with a lovely smile, “I will…need my hand to make your suit, sir.”

His open-mouthed impression of a fish is cut short by standing at attention, releasing the seal of his thighs. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

“Very polite,” you mutter before turning to Tony. “Mr. Stark, was that entirely necessary?”

“For the look alone, yes. My god, I’ll pay you again just to watch now that he knows.”

You push off the platform and practically skip over to Tony, reading over his shoulder. “How did I do?”

Tony looks at the piece of paper. “Damn it. Spot on,” Tony grunts.

“And that means…?”

“That I leave you alone for the rest of the consult,” Tony whines. “Fine, but make it worth it, buddy. Lady gets paid by the hour.” He snaps his fingers playfully. “Dominica, let’s take room two, my dear.”

Steve’s not sure what to do with his hands and mistakenly remains up high on the pedestal while you pull out a notebook and sit at a small table.

“Oh!” You look up at him with tender, lively eyes. “You may step down now.”

He feet seem to thunder to the floor even against the carpet. “I didn’t mean to—I just assumed that—I’m sorry, Misses—”

“It’s Miss,” you correct him. “And don’t worry. You are not the first, and you won’t be the last. Have a seat, Captain.”

“Steve.”

“Steve,” you correct yourself this time. “I’ll tell you a secret. I prefer that most people assume a man runs this business. You get to see people’s true colors when they finally find out.”

That doesn’t help Steve’s hot flush of embarrassment.

“You are one of the good ones. I can tell,” you add, adjusting to a fresh page in the notebook and marking the top corner.

In the silence Steve asks, “so you already knew my size?”

“You aren’t so different from my standard cut.”

“No,” he allows. Of course, he should have known that seeing as everything he buys from your label fits him so well. He kicks himself internally while trying not to frown at his slip up. It is, however, easy to keep a smile while basking in the glow of yours.

You pop your shoulder up into a shrug, lips morphing into a wry tease. “And I’m pretty good at what I do.”

Amazing, Steve thinks to himself. You’re amazing…at what you do.

Your elbow rests against the table, hand cupping your jaw as you hold Steve’s gaze.

“Some even call me a master of the male form.”

His swallow is deafening, which only makes you happier, and he looks down at his knee, rubbing his pant leg while his face heats.

“But for today’s purposes—“ you lean back in your chair, twirling your pencil playfully, a magic wand in your brilliant hands “—why don’t you tell me what makes me your favorite designer so I can make you my favorite client?”

Why’d you have to be so pretty? Why do you need him for so few fittings?

Steve has to stop himself from spending a Tony Stark-sized fortune on clothing for the pleasure of walking into your store and seeing you alone—well, in the hope of seeing you at all. Dominica is very sweet, sassy in a hard ass mom kind of way, and she’s one of four total assistants you have at the shop. Steve’s met three of them.

There’s just only one of you, and you’re busy.

Between his duties with the Avengers, actually sleeping, and debating with himself about what constitutes looking desperate, Steve is lucky to have caught you in-house only half the times he visits.

And then he tore a shirt. In fact, he tore three shirts, and to his credit, two of them were by accident. The third…uh, there’s a chance that when Steve exclaimed “oh shoot, I didn’t see that nail poking out” that he 100% saw that nail and deliberately brushed himself against that wall. He also may or may not have deliberately done it in front of Tony, faking that it was no big deal, because now he has the excuse that Tony is the one who told him to go see you.

Yeah, Steve agrees, if you say so.

He’s all excitement and nerves again when he rounds the corner of your street, but then the adrenaline shoots through Steve’s veins for a different reason.

A squad car has jumped the curb in front of your shop, lights flashing, doors left open, and Steve can hear lots of tense voices.

It’s a stressful enough day without the uninvited guest. Not many people—who know how you work and are not assholes—would dare to show up within a month of the Spring Show, without an appointment, and demand a rush job.

A rush job on a custom suit that you explicitly said could not be rushed before its scheduled time, mind you, but the surprise visitor doesn’t care.

Richard Fisk is broad. He has dirty blond hair that falls in front of his eyes when he tilts his head to smile. He often travels with a whole team of other imposing men.

The son of Wilson ‘Kingpin’ Fisk, however, is a prime example of personality souring good looks. Where it’s bashful and adorable that Steve Rogers hides his smile, Richard barely bridles his menacing entitlement.

You hate him, but he’s not a person you can outright refuse. He makes all of your assistants uncomfortable. Fisk is needlessly hostile to Tarik, who is thankfully not here today; he’s a creepy dick to Abby, who you insist stays in the fitting room with Anja, your longtime client who trusts you to push the envelope tastefully for a redheaded woman in her sixties; and he almost made Jules quit because he couldn’t follow instructions during a consult. Dominica stands in as the perfect buffer when she’s here, but the eldest of the Tovarich Atélier employees is currently on the other side of the city for a VIP delivery.

Your busy, busy day just got much harder.

His trio of beefy entourage flanks Fisk at the front of your shop.

“Here for my suit, sugar,” he drawls, flicking his used toothpick into a corner on the floor.

He eyes Abby as she shuts herself and Anja away from his direct ire, and although this leaves you alone, it stops your worry for their safety in addition to your own.

“As it stipulates in the commission, we take at least—“

“Those little hands are free now, I see,” he spits, stepping within an few inches of your face. His breath is foul and hot.

The aggression has you stumbling back, smashing into a side table and knocking a box of supplies to the ground.

“How ‘bout you get to work.”

You take in a heavy, fortifying, and quiet gasp. “Per your order, the fabric is manufactured off-site because teal is not a standard color. It takes time to produce. This was made very clear when you signed.”

Fisk flashes that menacing smile. “We can wait. One of these fine men can…keep you focused till you do your job.”

The condescending tone and disrespect of your work ethic spark flames of rage in your gut. Even though terror still simmers beneath, it’s too easy to let an insult fly.

“You’re lucky I’m even making it. The all white one last summer was a stretch, but teal? On you? Not something you can pull off.”

He lunges forward again. “Keep up the cheek, and I’ll lock you in my basement until I get everything I—“

“Ma’am,” a cop bursts through the shop door, “we got a call…” The officer goes quiet after one look at Fisk.

Abby must have phoned after hearing you knock supplies down, and you’re grateful, yes, but police are of little help with this guy. Cops wouldn’t dare ruffle Kingpin’s feathers or his awful son’s by proxy, but if you roll over now, you’ll never get back out from under him.

The only way forward is to put your foot down.

“Mr. Fisk, I wouldn’t make you a black and white striped three-piece if you did chain me in a basement. You’re a spring, and I have standards.”

“Ma’am,” the officer warns, his partner standing nervously in the open doorway.

“What kind of professional would I be if I let you walk around looking like a mental asylum inmate? I’m doing you a favor!”

Richard brandishes another toothpick. “The customer is always right, sugar.”

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid to taunt him and yell. Being insulted and diminished doesn’t make you want to be smart though; it makes you want to be right.

Your hands ball into fists of fear and rage. “It’s my name on the label,” you bark, “and I could just refund you to get you the hell out!”

Now you’ve really done it.

The boy gangster’s face twists and his oral fixation goes limp in disbelief. No one talks to Richard Fisk that way, least of all women.

His men step between both the cops and their boss, leaving Fisk himself to grab a solid wood tie box from the nearest counter and fling it at your face.

Your arms fly up to block it, but nothing ever connects, nor is there a crash behind you.

An officer’s voice wavers from across the room. “Uh, I’m sure this can all be worked out. No need to…start anything.”

You’re ashamed to say that your hands are shaking when they return to your sides and reveal an entirely different bulky blond.

Steve Rogers casually holds the caught box in his hands, staring daggers as he shifts squarely in front of you to block Fisk.

“This doesn’t concern you, Captain,” the bully grunts. “Piss off.”

Steve strides forward to replace the box neatly and plants himself inches from Fisk’s face.

“Can’t do that. She’s expecting me.” He turns back to you. “Ready?” Steve asks with a tight smile.

You swallow down one iota of your alarm and clear your throat.

“Yes—” the word cracks but you hope familiarity will scare off Fisk for now “—thank you, Steve.”

That seems to be Captain America’s cue to handle everyone else at odds in the storefront. By the time you get control of your trembling limbs, Steve has shown Fisk the door and promised the officers that you’ll be looked after.

Abby peeks out of the fitting room, surprised to see only Steve.

“Did they send you instead?”

She opens the door wider for Anja to see.

The redhead quirks an eyebrow. “Call the police more often, honey. They’ve upped their game.”

The now bashful, broad blond tilts his head, rogue hair falling across his face. His blue eyes sparkle beneath long lashes while he apologizes for lying, but you can’t for the life of you figure out why he’d feel guilty.

“I…” Steve stumbles. “I don’t have an appointment. I just wanted to see you.”

Currently estimating four parts to this grumbling into the ether but who knows. I clearly cannot be trusted to estimate length anymore...

[Next Part]

You can find more to read on my Main Masterlist! For readers under 18, please see the Light Masterlist which contains all-age-friendly works.

@supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @femefetalelevelingup @darsynia

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[yeonjunszn]

ASAP! — TWENTY

PAIRING! mark lee x f!reader

SUMMARY! you’re not exactly the best barista at zhong coffee, but for some unknown reason (his massive crush on you), mark thinks you can do no wrong. sick and tired of his favoritism and your lack thereof due to absolute obliviousness, your coworkers are determined to fix this problem. asap.

MORE! 🙀🙀🙀 LEE JENO WTF IS WRONG WITH U (i’m sorry for making u a bad person my sugarplum i love u but ur a milf lover so it worked for plot’s sake)

◠‿◠ ‿◠ ‿◠ ‿◠ ‿◠

As if your day couldn't get any worse, just earlier you were taunted by Jeno in front of multiple customers (Mommy of the Month and her little posse of soccer moms) for not knowing how to steam milk properly. Leave it to Mr. I Love Milfs to make you feel small in front of, well, said Milfs.

And now, as you huff in front of an older male customer, he yells at you for not knowing the difference between a Wet Cap and a Dry Cap. Was there even a difference? You don’t even drink cappuccinos.

"You know, that's what I hate about young ladies like you, taking job opportunities away from men like me. You're so stupid, you can't tell the difference between these two cappuccinos? They're different in weight and taste. Are you tasteless? Blind? Maybe both? How do you even work in a coffee shop?"

As the man goes on criticizing you, you can't help but feel the tears well up in your eyes and start dripping down your face. Yet another problem over the stupid milk. Drip, drip, drip. It takes only a few tears to fall down your face for the customer to start getting angrier.

"Oh, look. The idiot girl is crying. Get me your manager, I need to talk to him about lousy, useless girls like you."

Renjun, who just happened to hear the last part of the customer's sentence, whips out his phone under the bar to text Mark. He knows he can't deal with this customer alone, not when you're damn near shivering like you went for a swim in the middle of December.

It’s not long before Renjun steps into your way as Mark grabs your hand, pulling you away from the customer. He laces your fingers together as he guides you towards his office, making sure it's empty as he sits you down in a chair.

"Are you okay?" Mark asks, eyes filled with concern and heart aching for you.

You shake your head at him, not wanting to speak out of fear that your voice will quiver much like your body is right now.

"Y/N... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have had you switch your usual shifts," Mark comments. He kneels down before you, thumb brushing across your puffy cheeks to stop your tears. "I would have never done it if I had known you were going to be treated like this. I know you’re used to the usual mid shift customers."

Mark’s other hand pats the top of your head comfortingly as you sniffle, finally speaking, "No, I... I promised you I would help. I just didn't know Jeno was so mean sometimes. And that old guys were capable of yelling at me like that."

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'll talk to Jeno and I'll switch you back to your mids with Jaemin and Yangyang," Mark sighs. He looks for any hint of upset in your eyes, but instead he gets a faraway look. Like there's something not quite there. "Do you want a hug to make you feel better?"

You nod your head slowly and Mark stands up, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around your waist as he begins to rock the two of you back and forth, swaying and humming to an imaginary tune.

After a while, you pull away and look up at Mark with a pout and hopeful eyes, "Mark?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think I'm a bad barista?" you ask.

"Well, I think you weren't as good as the other baristas before, but you are getting better," he replies, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. If his hand had lingered for any longer, he would have been able to feel the heat pooling in your cheeks.

"Okay... Um, do you think I'm stupid?"

"No. It's practically impossible to tell those two cappuccinos apart unless you’ve been a barista for a really long time. That guy was just an asshole. If he ever comes back here, I'll beat his ass to a pulp," Mark answers you truthfully. He speaks clearly; he wants you to think highly of yourself and not listen to the words of some arrogant customer. A part of you believes him, taking his words to heart.

"One more thing..." you mutter, pushing yourself back into his chest and hiding your face.

"Mm?"

"Can I... can I have your chocolate croissant?" you ask, hesitation in your voice.

Mark bursts out into laughter at your silly question, his entire body vibrating as he holds you tight. "Is that it?"

"Yeah."

"Of course, Y/N. You can have whatever you want," Mark says. "Are you feeling a bit better now?"

"Yes. Thank you," you murmur, looking at his face — more specifically, his eyebrows. Something in you makes you a tiny bit shy, not able to look into his eyes as he smiles at you.

"Any time."

There's a racing in your chest, where your heart is, one that's never really been there before. Whatever it is, you hope that it will calm itself. Quickly.

TWENTY — chocolate croissant

PREV! nineteen — i will force his hand into a blender

NEXT! twenty one — #xiaojun_out

MASTERLIST!

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TAGLIST! @stardusthyuck @erin-calling @tddyhyck @bigheadchen @choiwonder @neozon3nha @sunflowerbebe07 @kissesfrmwonwoo @miyawwn @sserafimez @haechansbbg @lilyidk03 @mowchiie @jaemsrina @jeongintwt @shwizhies

[bookloover35]

Blossoms and Headlines- Jack Kelly x fem reader.

The bustling streets of Manhattan never seemed so bright as they did on a morning when Jack Kelly strolled through them with a spring in his step. The city was waking up, and so was he—though his reasons had little to do with the sunlight streaming through the buildings and everything to do with a certain flower vendor setting up her cart.

"Morning, Sunshine," Jack called out, tipping his cap as he approached your stall.

You glanced up from the vibrant bouquets you were arranging, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of your boyfriend. "Morning, Jack. Shouldn't you be slinging papes by now?"

"Shouldn't you be swimming in customers? Seems like I got here just in time to help." He leaned casually against the edge of your cart, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You? Help?" You teased, motioning to a few stray daisies he nearly knocked over. "Last time you tried, I ended up with tulips and carnations mixed together. It was chaos."

Jack held a hand to his heart as though wounded. "Hey, they were still pretty! Anyway, I'm better at sales. Watch this." He straightened up and glanced down the street, spotting a man in a suit. "Sir! Yes, you! Lookin' for somethin' to brighten your day? Maybe a rose for your sweetheart?"

The man hesitated but approached, clearly intrigued by Jack's enthusiasm. You handed the customer a single rose, and as he walked off, Jack grinned triumphantly.

"See? Natural-born salesman," he said, turning back to you.

"All right, I'll give you that one," you admitted, giggling.

Jack stole a glance at the bouquets and plucked a soft pink peony from the bunch, holding it out to you. "But there's only one customer I'm really interested in today."

You felt your cheeks warm as you took the flower. "You're smooth, Kelly. Real smooth."

He leaned in, close enough that you could see the faint smudge of ink still on his fingertips. "I try. Now, how about I walk you to lunch after your shift? I know a spot with the best pie in the city."

"Tempting," you mused, brushing a petal with your finger. "But only if you help me unload these lilies first."

Jack groaned playfully but set to work beside you, his usual charm never wavering. As the two of you laughed and worked together, the city felt a little brighter, a little sweeter.

The flowers you sold that day weren't the only blossoms on display—your love for Jack was just as vibrant, blooming with every moment you spent together. And as Jack often reminded you, you were the one thing in his life that made the headlines seem a little less important.