#I like Charles’ jacket but I wouldn’t put it with same coloured jeans

[leclercskiesahead]

The C2 boys go shopping for the fashion show

[thepastisalreadywritten]

This Saturday, at St James's Palace in London, the man most of us have known all our lives as Prince Charles will be officially proclaimed King following the death of his mother, Queen Elizabeth II.

The fact he will be the oldest man in history to accede to the throne has been much remarked upon; the fact he will also be the most stylish, less so.

Those of us who care about such things can play an easy game. What is your favourite King Charles III style moment?

Maybe it’s the time he wore a western suit (in a jazzy shade of millennial pink) with a check shirt, a bolo tie and a quartz-hued ten-gallon hat on an official tour of Canada in the late 1970s.

Or perhaps it’s the time he wore a short-sleeved baby-blue safari shirt with a pair of chinos and some riding boots to the polo.

Our personal favourite? The time he brandished his considerable wealth with no shortage of rakishness by pairing a yolk-yellow Hermès sweater (complete with cartoonish “Happy Hermès” logo) with a chambray shirt and a pair of skintight white jeans to, you guessed it, a polo match at the Guards Polo Club in Windsor.

What people tend to forget about Charles is that he was a bit of a style icon back in the day.

But it's something that will be brought back to our collective consciousness as the outpouring of grief and tributes from around the world slowly give way to looking at the future of the monarchy, which Charles now leads after the longest wait in royal history.

Take the forest-green and cherry-red shirt Charles wore to play in a charity polo match in the late Seventies.

Imbued with a prepped-up, Eton-boy-gone-bad vibe (not least because Charles chose to wear it quite so close-cut), it wouldn’t be difficult to imagine Frank Ocean – or even the fash pack’s favourite skater Blondey McCoy – wearing the same thing today and looking every bit the wavy young disruptor doing it.

Then there’s that full-on, Yves Saint Laurent-inspired taupe safari suit he wore on a state visit to Australia in 1985.

Both of those looks exemplify Charles’s acute understanding of the soft power demonstrated by an excellent cut.

The King so often opted – and still opts – for muted shades over showier ones and tends to pick garments that focus on function over form.

This attention to detail is something those studying the King have often remarked on.

The man who played him in the The Crown, Josh O'Connor, said:

“Whenever he gets out of a car, he checks his cufflink, checks his pocket and then waves. [It’s] the same movement every time.”

It’s this sense of consistency that defines Charles' unique personal flair.

“In every photo you see, he has great style. The shirt, tie and pocket square combinations are put together so well, with a great eye for detail,” says Steven Quin, retail director at Turnbull & Asser.

“He’s not afraid of colour and he clearly wears what he feels comfortable in and does not follow trends. HRH has always worn a double-breasted jacket.

I remember reading a quote from him where he stated that his style 'comes back into fashion every 25 years’. That still rings true. His elegance is timeless.”

The other important thing to note about Charles’ very specific mode of dressing is that he’s loyal to the brands he likes and, perhaps most importantly, he invests in quality.

He has his shirts made at the aforementioned Jermyn Street shirtmaker Turnbull & Asser.

He wears handmade shoes from Northampton shoemaker Crockett & Jones.

He gets his ceremonial gear from Ede & Ravenscroft.

He alternates having his suits made at Gieves & Hawkes and Anderson & Sheppard. It’s a roster of loyalty many British men will probably relate to.

“[King] Charles is a total inspiration. His taste is impeccable, almost always in double-breasted jackets, looking resplendent but totally at ease with a tie and pocket square,” says John Harrison, creative director at Gieves & Hawkes.

”He’s also done more than anyone in the public eye to promote the idea of bespoke garments and handmade shoes being investments, to last forever with proper care and the odd repair or patch-up. He makes us all want to dress like a better man.”

Ultimately, though, it’s the confidence King Charles displays with his wardrobe decisions – a certain ruffled indifference – that makes his style so covetable.

Though today he’s best known for wearing a double-breasted suit better than any man on earth (fact), once upon a time his collars were curled, his shirts were French tucked, his jumpers were oversized.

Such flourishes are beyond him now, and not just because he's a man of 73.

After Saturday's official proclamation will come much more pomp and ceremony to sit him on the throne: a second meeting of the Accession Council in which he must swear an oath to preserve the Church of Scotland (a tradition dating back to the early 18th century).

A fanfare of trumpets from the balcony above St James's Palace, gun salutes in Hyde Park and from naval ships at sea, and the national anthem sung with the words “God Save the King.”

All of these before the coronation itself, at which Charles will have the crown placed on his head before a global audience of millions.

He will dress according to tradition throughout, in suits of impeccable shape and cut.

But as he goes forward in the role he has waited a lifetime to play, something of the King's fastidious but playful character will come back into what he wears and how he wears it.

It will be part of his legacy, wherever that may lead us.

[sambergscott]

i’ve seen the way you look at me

@fourdrinkamy kindly sent me the “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice” prompt, like, last year and I finally had an idea I could use it for. Also inspired by me being obsessed with Andy at the Oscars. 

She’s only seen Jake in a tux on several occasions throughout their relationship. Once at the Boyle-Linetti wedding, a second time at Rosa and Pimento’s almost-wedding, again at their own wedding and right now as he gets ready for Holt and Kevin’s vow renewal ceremony. She’s used to seeing him in jeans and plaid shirts and his favourite leather-jacket-over-hoodie combo. While she loves him in his casual clothes, he really does clean up nice.

She can’t keep her eyes off his reflection in the mirror as she finishes applying her make-up. He’s listening to Taylor Swift and dancing around the hotel room in his shirt, boxers and socks. “Such a dork,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes.

“I heard that!” He yells, pausing the music and joining her in the ensuite. He circles his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder so as not to mess up her make up (he learned that the hard way in the past when she had to reapply her make-up and they were ten minutes late to her brother’s birthday dinner). “Do you not like my dancing?”

“I wouldn’t call what you just did dancing,” she teases, elbowing in the stomach when he tries to tickle her in retaliation.

“I’m shocked and offended that my own wife would-.”

“Babe,” she interrupts, deadpan, “I know you’re going through something right now, but we have to leave in, like, five minutes.”

“Right. Gotcha.”

The wedding doesn’t start for another forty-five minutes, but she loves how he doesn’t question her need to be early to everything anymore. He just goes along with it. He’s even starting getting up earlier so they can have breakfast together and arrive to work on time. Although, to be fair, it’s a lot easier to get out of bed in the mornings when you have a naked wife asking you to shower with her than a plain old iPhone alarm.

She puts her earrings in while he pulls on his pants, she slips on the deep green dress she bought for this occasion while he puts on his jacket and shoes, she puts on her heels while he stares at her legs. They both clean up pretty nice, Amy thinks with a smirk.

“Help my zip up my dress?”

“Of course,” he says dutifully, like the good husband he is. And when she spins around, he immediately tells her she looks beautiful.

“Thank you,” she responds, blushing a little. “Need help with your bowtie?”

“Yep,” he says, handing her the black material. They both know he’s capable of tying it himself (he’s had to do so plenty of times without her, including their wedding day), even if it does end up a little wonky, but she likes doing it for him so he can’t refuse.

“There.” She kisses his cheek once she’s finished, leaving a red lipstick stain on the side of his cheek. “Oops,” she giggles, wiping it off with the pad of her thumb.

“Thanks, Ames. You ready to go?”

She grabs her clutch with her phone, money, room key, emergency hand sanitiser and lipstick inside and then accepts the hand he’s holding out for her. “Ready,” she confirms.

She keeps contact with him in some way the whole night, whether it’s her hand on his thigh as they watch their two dads exchange the vows they never had the chance to the first time, her hands excitedly clutching his bicep after he introduces her to Captain Holt’s mom or her arms around his neck as they slow dance to All Out Of Love.

“Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?” She murmurs, smiling softly up at him before glancing back down at their feet to make sure she doesn’t step on his toes and ruin the moment.

“Once or twice, but I’ll happily hear it again,” he grins.

“You look very handsome. I actually feel sorry for the grooms, because you’re kind of overshadowing them with how handsome you look.”

“I do look dope in a tux,” he agrees, a flirty twinkle in his eyes.

She laughs, tightening her hold on him. “I wish you could wear them all the time. You think you could ditch the plaid shirts and leather jacket?”

“It might be difficult chasing after criminals and saving the city in a tight-fitted suit, but I’d do it for you,” he replies. “As long as I wear a tie, I think Holt would actually prefer it.”

“That’s true. I certainly would.”

“You’ve always had a thing for me in tuxes, haven’t you, Santiago?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she says, trying to act oblivious even though the tips of her ears are turning red.

“Before we were together, at Charles and Gina’s weird parents’ wedding, you couldn’t get enough of me in that three button tux, could you? You were practically drooling.”

“I was not drooling!”

“You so were,” he counters. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice, Santiago. It’s like you’re looking at a piece of meat or a cigarette or colour-coded cascading tabs in a binder.”

“You look at me the same way,” she points out, raising her eyebrows. “Remember that pink dress I wore when you made us stay in the precinct over the weekend?”

He whistles lowly. “Yeah, I remember that dress.”

“We’re both equally obsessed with each other,” she says, her lips curving into a smile.

“Good job we’re married now then,” he responds, smiling back at her. He leans down for a kiss they both get a little too into, considering they’re surrounded by their Captain and his husband’s reserved families.

Charles snaps a picture of the moment that ends up framed on Amy’s desk a week later so she can enjoy the sight of her husband in a tux every time she glances up from her paperwork. The first time Jake sees it there, he shoots her a knowing smile.

What can she say? Her husband looks damn fine in a tux.

[xmenimagine]

Imagine: Quick Recovery.

Requested by Anon. Includes: Peter Maximoff x Reader Request: * Would you mind doing quicksilver confessing his love to female reader after the events of apocalypse and she helps him while he’s on crutches? Thank you so much!

Note: wowie, I didn't realise it was going to be this long.

    Peter stood in front of you with a nervous look on his face, he was waiting for your reaction or at least any sign of response, he would take anything. There was a stunned silence on your behalf as your mind tried registering everything that he had told you, everything that he admitted, everything that you had been completely oblivious to before in the past. His eyes scanned your face for any reaction, anything at all, but it was almost as if you had been turned to stone. Your mouth was left ajar and your eyes were wider than before. To Peter, it was a look of pure innocence. He was thankful that he decided to tell you somewhere quiet and away from everyone else. His plan was to tell you after his leg had healed, after everyone had got over the initial shock of Apocalypse, but for the speedster, he realised that he wasn't great on timing, he never had to be, he could always rely on his mutation to get him out of unwanted situations. But this wasn't an unwanted situation, it was one that he wanted to do for a long time, but he always chickened out and made a quick recovery to change the subject if it ever got close to the truth.

    But here he was, standing with his crutches that his hands gripped so tightly that his knuckles were almost completely white, and his leg cast that was covered completely in drawings and messages—his favourite was Scott's strangely colourful and detailed drawing of Peter ripping out of a comic book strip with The Flash knocked out in the frame behind him. He even had his silver jacket on and his goggles sticking out of one of the pockets. All he could do now was wait, and he hated waiting. But when he looked at you standing in front of him, with that look on your face, he didn't mind the wait, because it meant that he was in your presence for longer, that he could look at you for longer, and that he would finally hear a response from you when you got over the initial shock of his words. He knew he had to wait, after all, it wasn't every day when Peter decided to stop acting like a child and commit to a relatively mature conversation with you instead of his usual jokes and pranks.

    While he waited, he thought back to the moments that lead him to now.

    Kurt managed to get everyone to safety, away from the plane. Psylocke and Angel were left inside still, and you didn't want to know the outcome of what happened to them as you sat beside a knocked-out and energy-drained Kurt, brushing the hair from his face. Scott stood behind you, looking over your shoulder and down at him while Moira turned to look at Charles. He woke up in a panic, but Jean quickly calmed him down, holding onto him, telling him that he was safe. Hank patted his arm gently before holding Charles' outstretched arm. Hank helped move Charles over towards the wall so he could sit up, while you pulled Kurt towards the other side of the room, laying a pillow behind his head. Hank walked over and made sure he was okay. Then, from the silence, Apocalypse's voice yelled out, and you could feel your blood run cold knowing that Peter and Raven were still out there with him.

    "Charles! Show yourself!" The sound of Apocalypse's voice made you shudder.

    It never seemed right to you, it was almost as if a thousand other voices were speaking with him at the same time. It made you nervous and uneasy just thinking about it. His voice echoed around the room, and you knew that, sooner or later, he was going to find all of you, and you could only think of the worst thing imaginable happening. You wouldn't even get to say goodbye to anyone back home, or what was left of your home. Hank stood up as soon as he heard Apocalypse's voice, leaving you alone with Kurt. Moira stared down at Charles, the blood from his face was cleaned up to the best of Hank's ability while having nothing to clean it with, leaving a cut and a bruise on the side of Charles' face. Jean and Scott turned away from the windows to look at him as well.

    "Charles! Show yourself!" He repeated.

    It then fell silent outside for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed and you stood up, wobbling on your knees a bit as the blood began to rush back down your legs from having been sitting with your legs tucked underneath your body beside Kurt. As you walked up to Scott, you turned towards the window to see if you could figure out what was happening. But the sound you heard next sent a wave of fear down your spine. More fear than hearing Apocalypse speak. Peter yelled out in pain, a sound you never wanted to hear. You held your breath and looked out of the window again, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks, your fists balled up tightly, but you didn't care about the pain you were causing yourself as you continued to hear Peter's cries of pain.

    "Peter?" Charles spoke quietly, and you felt as if your heart had stopped beating. Quickly, you turned back to look at Charles as he spoke once more, "Raven."

    Hank began walking to the door. "I'm going out there."

    "I'm going with you," Scott added quickly, turning around and following him.

    "No." Charles shook his head. They stopped walking and stepped back, looking at him. "It's me he wants." He tried getting up.

    "Charles, you can't give yourself up," Moira told him, as he tried to stand, he sat back. "If he has you he has us all." She shook her head. "The whole world." It was clear to see that Charles was torn between right and wrong, his face scrunched up as he tried not to cry knowing he couldn't do anything.

    Apocalypse yelled out again, "Charles! Come rescue your weaklings! Give your life for theirs!"

    "No," Charles whimpered, shaking his head, and you stepped away from the window, towards the middle of the room.

    "There has to be another way, right?" You asked quietly, looking over at Hank, who looked back at you just as unsure.

    Charles sat up quickly, his expression falling from his face. "He was right," he started. "There is still some part of me connected to him."

    "Charles!" Apocalypse continued to yell out at him.

    "I can get inside his head."

    "Will you do nothing?"

    Charles laid back, and he had a look of determination on his face. "Thank you for letting me in."

    You quickly made your way back to the window and looked out, seeing Raven fall to the ground. Apocalypse was on his knees and, for a moment, you had hope, until his head looked up from the ground. Behind you, Charles breathed in deeply, but you couldn't take your eyes away from Apocalypse. The wall where you stood began to turn to dust, Scott pulled you away as part of the ground you were standing on disappeared. Apocalypse stood with his hand facing the building where you stayed, his eyes were glassed over with white, and you quickly stumbled back when the realisation hit you. Scott made sure you were out of the way before he let go of you and watched as you slumped against the wall, sliding down it, staring out in horror. Charles still struggled to breathe, and he sounded like he was in pain, you couldn't take your eyes away from Apocalypse still, especially as he kept walking closer.

    A metal beam slammed down into the ground in front of Apocalypse, and he stopped, noticing as another slammed down in front of it, creating a large 'X' in front of the building. Erik was in the air, no longer on Apocalypse's side.

    "You betray me." Apocalypse turned around to face him.

    "No. I betrayed them," Erik responded and turned his hand, the metal around him began to rise up from the ground, clinking and sliding against one another. The metal then began to fly towards Apocalypse, but he covered himself, a wall of fire blocked the metal from touching him.

    "Let's jump," you heard Hank.

    "What?" Scott replied, watching in shock, following Hank anyway before they dropped down.

    Hank ran over to Raven, but you couldn't hear what they were saying. He picked her up and you watched as he began to break Peter from the ground. Scott took his glasses off and faced Apocalypse. The concussion beam bounced off and Scott fell backwards, but he stood back up and yelled, hitting the force field around Apocalypse. Hank finally got Peter out and helped him up and to cover. You could no longer see him, but you knew he was further away from the danger.

    Charles then tried to speak, "J—" When you looked over, Jean was already sitting by him. "Help… me."

    "They can't stop him," Moira mumbled as she watched the others grow tired.

    Hank tried to jump at him, but he was thrown to the side, slamming into a car, knocking him unconscious. Scott continued to yell, not entirely certain as to where he was shooting at, and he quickly closed his eyes, putting his glasses back on. Apocalypse threw him backwards, and he was pushed into a wall.

    The wall began to swallow him and he yelled out, "Hank!" But he wasn't responsive. "Hank!"

    You looked over at Charles as he spoke quietly, "You… will never win." He paused. "Because you are alone, and I am… not." He paused again. "Let… go. Unleash your power, Jean. No fear." Jean looked up from Charles.

    Moira and yourself stared in horror and shock as Jean had walked out from the side of the crumbled building where you stayed for cover, even though all of you were exposed. Erik was struggling to see through the flames but continued to throw the large pieces of shrapnel, pipes, metal beams, fragments of metal from the ground and the crumbled mess from the side of the building blindly towards Apocalypse. Jean had walked out onto nothing, walking on air as she walked closer to Apocalypse. She stopped just in front of the large ball of fire and smoke, Charles yelled at her to unleash her power. With a deep breath, her arms spread out to her sides. Her screams pierced the air as the flames expelled from her body like some sort of Phoenix spirit was engulfing her. Apocalypse's armour was stripped from his body, Erik impaled him with metal. Hank broke Scott away from the wall that was slowly crushing him, and Scott took his glasses off, allowing the concussion beams to hit Apocalypse. He tried to get away, but Ororo was above him with lightning surrounding her.

    The flames that left Jean grew bigger and brighter. Apocalypse was slowly breaking apart, burning and disintegrating, just before his body was completely destroyed. A wailing screech, from around Jean, amongst the flames, screamed before the flames began to die down. You still sat slumped against the wall of the building, staring at her in disbelief, uncertain whether what you saw had really happened. Erik and Ororo lowered to the ground while Jean moved back to the building. Hank and Scott jumped back up and Moira caught everyone's attention. She was doing chest compressions on Charles. Hank ran over quickly.

    "We've lost him, he's gone," she said to him.

    "No, he's not," Jean shook her head. "I can still feel him," she admitted as she walked closer, kneeling down to rest her hand on his face. She closed her eyes and he began to breathe again.

    "Thank you, Jean," he spoke quietly.

    "Charles. Charles, do you know where you are?" Moira asked.

    "I'm on a beach." Hank frowned at the response. "In Cuba," Charles continued as he turned to Moira. "With you."

    "What beach?"

    Charles moved his hand to her face, she had tears rolling down as the memories came back to her, and he lowered his hand. "I'm sorry," he admitted. "I should never have taken those from you."

    "Hold on!" Kurt yelled as he woke up, sitting upright. You yelled, looking at him with wide eyes while Hank stared at him in shock. Jean laughed quietly. "What did I miss?"

-

    Almost two weeks later, you had become some sort of nurse for Peter. He decided to stay at the mansion, as well as Ororo, claiming it was because he wanted to have someone—mainly Scott—to play video games with. You didn't mind, of course, he never made you do anything that you didn't think was necessary. He didn't pull any pranks on you like he did with the other mutants, but he still joked around with you, nothing too major of course, he didn't want to upset you. There were times when he tried doing things on his own, but you knew he couldn't. Which was why you were going to get cleaning supplies after Peter had tried—and failed—to pull a bowl of soup from his side table towards him with his crutch, ending with the soup spilling half on his bed and the rest on his floor. It wasn't as if he couldn't have asked you to hand it over to him, you were in his bathroom putting the medicine back behind his mirror above the sink at the time.

    Behind you, despite telling him to stay in his room, you heard Peter trying to catch up with you. The sound of his crutches slapping at the ground quickly, and his uneven breathing, and a grunt of frustration as he tried to keep up, caused you to pause and turn around to face him. Peter stopped abruptly and almost fell forwards, only to have to push him back upright steadily.

    "Do my words just go through one ear and out the other? Or do you have a force field that just repels them, all together, so you never hear what I say?"

    "What?" Peter asked as he caught his breath. "Of course I listen to you, I just wanted to join you."

    "Peter," you spoke with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "That's sweet but you really should be in bed, resting."

    "Where's the fun in that?"

    "Your body won't be under as much stress and you'll heal faster?"

    "Hank says I'm nearly finished with healing."

    "Great, so that means you can be the one to clean up the messes you leave behind instead of me."

    Peter frowned. "I don't expect you to do any of that."

    "I know, but you're not exactly capable of doing it yourself right now, and everyone else is annoyed at you from the last prank you pulled on them."

    "It's their fault if they couldn't hear me walking around with crutches in the kitchen while being loud and laughing to myself before I walked back out with paint stains on my clothes."

    "Why did you have to make a paint bomb? What did you achieve? I had to clean it up."

    "That was meant to be Scott's job."

    "No, he was trying to get paint off his glasses while trying not to open his eyes."

    "I would have paid to see that."

    "Peter!" You breathed deeply. "Go back to your room and rest."

    "I'm already here now, I might as well join you."

    With another sigh of your own frustration, you rubbed a hand down the side of your face. "Why are you like this?"

    "Like what?"

    "This! So hard-headed and impossible to get through to."

    "You know I don't mean to be like that when I'm around you, right?"

    "Why? Why me, Peter?"

    He paused, staring at you, his eyes were looking at the detail of your face, taking everything in as if he was going to end up losing his sight in a matter of seconds. Peter remained quiet as he opened his mouth and let out a shaky breath. His behaviour was unusual for someone who, not minutes before, was trying to sing the national anthem backwards while beatboxing at the same time to see if he could do it—he couldn't. This wasn't the Peter you were used to seeing. He was nervous all of a sudden, his natural 'laid back' and calm manner was replaced with nerves and twitchy fingers. It was clear that Peter was no longer being childish, as per usual, but rather trying to commit to a normal, mature conversation with you.

    "Peter?" You asked him quietly, almost whispering his name.

    The sound of your voice must have brought him back to reality as his usual loud voice was replaced with a shy and quiet one, "It's because I'm in love with you, and I have been since the second week of knowing you. It was when I saw you outside in the garden that day, I—" He swallowed. "You were stood there with your eyes squinted because the sun was shining directly on your face. You even had your hand raised up to shield your eyes, but it didn't do much because you were still standing there smiling, or maybe you were laughing at something Jubilee had said as she picked some of the yellow petals off the flowers, but you were just standing there, completely oblivious to the world around you. My god, it was like the earth had stopped turning and everything but you faded out. I can still hear the sound of your laugh as you threw your head back and closed your eyes so tightly with how hard you were laughing. My heart began to race and I couldn't understand why. Scott wouldn't tell me, I don't know why I would trust him with the answer when I asked. Jean only smiled, I could tell that she was trying not to, and turned to look at Scott before she looked back at him and said nothing. Kurt wouldn't have been any help, Ororo either, she lies to me a lot.

    "I was too scared to ask Raven… she's pretty intimidating for someone who is as blue as Kurt, and I doubted that Hank would have listened to me. I could have asked Charles, but he's always cryptic, what does he know? I was debating whether or not to ask Jubilee, but she was always with you, and I didn't want you to get suspicious or somehow trick her into telling you because she can't keep a secret from you to save her life. I didn't really talk to anyone else back then, I do now, but knowing them now didn't help me back then, you know? I had to figure out my feelings on my own, which is a lot harder than it sounds. I eventually called my mum because I was getting nowhere and it ended up hitting me like a ton of bricks. I am completely and utterly in love with you, and I'm terrified of screwing up."

    Peter stood in front of you with a nervous look on his face, he was waiting for your reaction or at least any sign of response, he would take anything. There was a stunned silence on your behalf as your mind tried registering everything that he had told you, everything that he admitted, everything that you had been completely oblivious to before in the past. His eyes scanned your face for any reaction, anything at all, but it was almost as if you had been turned to stone. Your mouth was left ajar and your eyes were wider than before. To Peter, it was a look of pure innocence. He was thankful that he decided to tell you somewhere quiet and away from everyone else. His plan was to tell you after his leg had healed, after everyone had got over the initial shock of Apocalypse, but for the speedster, he realised that he wasn't great on timing, he never had to be, he could always rely on his mutation to get him out of unwanted situations. But this wasn't an unwanted situation, it was one that he wanted to do for a long time, but he always chickened out and made a quick recovery to change the subject if it ever got close to the truth.

    But here he was, standing with his crutches that his hands gripped so tightly that his knuckles were almost completely white, and his leg cast that was covered completely in drawings and messages—his favourite was Scott's strangely colourful and detailed drawing of Peter ripping out of a comic book strip with The Flash knocked out in the frame behind him. He even had his silver jacket on and his goggles sticking out of one of the pockets. All he could do now was wait, and he hated waiting. But when he looked at you standing in front of him, with that look on your face, he didn't mind the wait, because it meant that he was in your presence for longer, that he could look at you for longer, and that he would finally hear a response from you when you got over the initial shock of his words. He knew he had to wait, after all, it wasn't every day when Peter decided to stop acting like a child and commit to a relatively mature conversation with you instead of his usual jokes and pranks.

    "Y-You love me?"

    "If my speech wasn't proof enough, yeah."

    He watched silently as he sucked in a deep breath, a small smile began to tug at the corners of your lips and you looked down. "I…"

    Peter frowned when you cut yourself off. "What?"

    You looked back up at him, remaining quiet as you cupped his face softly with your hands and pressed your lips to his, only for a few seconds before you pulled back with the same small smile. "I—I love you too, Peter."

[fashiontrendin-blog]

10 Tie Brands That Will Instantly Improve Your Smart Wardrobe

https://fashion-trendin.com/10-tie-brands-that-will-instantly-improve-your-smart-wardrobe/

10 Tie Brands That Will Instantly Improve Your Smart Wardrobe

Any man worth his sartorial salt knows that the secret to true style lies within the finer details of his outfit. Whether it’s the expertly matched leather watch strap and shoes, the tell-tale line of his selvedge jeans, or merely the absence of a belt – these are the subtle style specifics that are key to taking a look from great to god-like.

However, when it comes to formalwear, there’s significantly less of room for manoeuvre flair-wise, which is why a selection of knock-out ties is an absolute must in any man’s wardrobe arsenal.

What Is A Tie?

Chances are you probably already have a rough idea of what a tie is. But just in case you’ve somehow lived your entire life up to this point without having come across one, allow us to unravel the mystery.

A tie is a length of fabric designed to be worn decoratively around the neck, under the collar of a shirt (never with a T-shirt and waistcoat, despite what early-noughties indie bands told you.)

Though their popularity has dwindled in recent decades as a result of relaxing dress codes — give it a few years, you’ll be invited to an ‘athleisure wedding’ — the tie remains a standard part of formalwear and office attire in many parts of the world and also as a part of the uniform for many people, including the military.

History Of The Tie

Okay, so they look smart. But why did we start wearing bits of fabric around our necks in the first place? Well, it turns out it wasn’t just a random consequence of fashion. Neckties, much like work boots and safari jackets, once served a practical purpose.

It’s generally agreed that the starting point for the necktie explosion was in 17th-century France when King Louis XIII hired Croatian mercenaries to fight in war. These soldiers wore lengths of cloth around their necks as part of their uniforms and to hold their jackets closed at the top.

Edward VIII

This new accessory spawned a fashion craze across Europe (because who wouldn’t want to look like a Croatian mercenary, right?) and soon both men and women were tying bits of decorative cloth around their necks in a frenzied attempt to keep up with the trend.

But it wasn’t just a fleeting fad. The necktie wormed its way into our ancestor’s wardrobes deeper and deeper, and even gave birth to several variations, including bow ties, bolo ties, Ascot ties and cravats.

Why Wear A Tie?

These days formal neckwear is seldom for practical purposes (unless you count proving a judge of your innocence), so why are we still wearing ties nearly 400 years on? It all boils down to style and presentation.

Ties offer men a chance to show some flair in otherwise drab attire, and the addition of one can quite literally tie a look together. Of course, they’re not just for formalwear. Wearing a tie can instantly upgrade a more relaxed outfit too, indicating that you’re a man knows how to truss himself up even when the dress code doesn’t require a lounge suit.

Tom Ford

“Men still love raising the game sartorially, and British men take much more pleasure in the smart-casual look,” says Jermyn Street master shirt and tie maker Emma Willis. “This often includes less structured, plain, textured ties that de-formalise silk with blends of linen or cashmere.”

A tie is also a great way to subtly change up your look day-to-day, particularly if your job requires you to wear a suit. “I always imagine I have a heads up on the day’s current affairs choosing BBC newsreader Huw Edwards’ tie with him depending on the headline story,” adds Willis.

The Best Brands For Ties

This humble piece of neckwear may seem like a relatively simple concept but wearing the right tie relies on a host of factors including the size, colour, fabric, the tie knot used, and the shirt collar it’s worn with.

Drake’s

Since 1977, Drake’s has been helping the world’s best-dressed men add a dash of personality to their wardrobes with its unique eye for colour and pattern. With factories in both London and Somerset, all the label’s ties are carefully made in England, ensuring a certain level of quality and prestige. Expect classic, British elegance that always manages to come off more stylish than stuffy.

Buy Now: £135.00

Marks & Spencer

When it comes to shopping on the high street, few names carry as much significance as longtime staple Marks & Spencer. The well-known retail chain is one of the most reliable spots around when it comes to quality and value for money. And when it comes to ties — be they classic silk options or modern knitted numbers — these guys really know what they’re doing.

Buy Now: £17.50

J.Crew

It would be virtually impossible to pull off the Ivy League look without a striped tie fastened beneath the collar of an Oxford button-down. And for that sort of thing, no brand is quite as well suited as New York’s very own J.Crew. The preppy label has made easy-to-wear, smart but relaxed clothing its calling card, and the ties on offer are no different.

Buy Now: £62.50

T.M. Lewin

Established in 1898, T.M. Lewin is one of the oldest names on Jermyn Street. And unlike many of its neighbours on the historic London street, the prices here won’t leave you scrounging for crumbs to eat. Don’t let the bargain price points put you off, mind, the reason the label has been able to thrive for so long is that it does its job properly, be that well fitting shirts or ties to suit any occasion.

Buy Now: £15.00

Turnbull & Asser

If your aim is to look like James Bond, where better to buy your clobber from than the label that has been sorting him out with shirts and ties for more than 50 years? As well as dressing everyone from Prince Charles to Picasso, London’s Turnbull & Asser has created designs specifically for 007 including the cocktail cuff shirt which, presumably, is best accessories with a martini.

Buy Now: £125.00

Topman

Just because it’s knotted at the neck, a tie doesn’t have to be a noose on your style. Among Topman’s line-up of block-colour neckwear is a sprawling selection of printed styles that will allow you to smarten up while injecting some much-welcomed personality into your formal looks. The fact that you can also pick up modern slim, skinny and muscle-fit shirts and suit jackets while you’re at it is simply a bonus.

Buy Now: £10.00

Marwood

Founded in 2010, London’s Marwood is a relative newcomer to the tie party, but what this made-in-England brand lacks in history, it more than compensates for in character. The people behind the label saw that classic ties had been done in and done out, and so decided to carve out a niche crafting artistic options with lots of character; a USP that has seen it snapped up by the likes of Mr Porter, Liberty and Dover Street Market.

Buy Now: £60.00

Emma Willis

Sitting in pride of place on Jermyn Street – the shirtmaking equivalent of Savile Row – Emma Willis is a name synonymous with crafting some of the finest bespoke button-ups known to man. But the master seamstress also turns out an impressive selection of ties with the same exacting standards. Handmade in England from silk and pure plain cashmere, they’ve graced the necks of everyone from Henry Cavill to Samuel L Jackson.

Buy Now: £120.00

Charvet

Nothing short of a style institution, Charvet came into being when Joseph-Christophe Charvet opened the world’s first shirt shop in Paris in 1838. With a heritage most can only dream of, the label is well known to kings, princes, heads of state and countless celebrities. And when you look at its selection of ties, it’s not hard to see why.

Buy Now: £170.00

Brooks Brothers

If heritage is a deciding factor when on the hunt for wardrobe additions, you can’t do much better than Brooks Brothers. The classic all-American outfitter is the country’s oldest clothing retailer, having spent over two centuries kitting out presidents, movie stars and just regular stylish blokes. And if the brand’s line-up of natty textured ties is good enough for them, then it’s certainly good enough for us.

Buy Now: £85.00