#Leather Saddle Bag

[creativeartandcraft]

📌📌 55% discount and free Leather wallet gift for buy any product in link :-

[chillypepperhot]

Call Me The Breeze...

Source Me laf@ilyF ❤️

[nevermindsunny77]

[senseforest]

Carry the essence of celestial enchantment with our Double Moon Vegan Leather Saddle Bag. Embrace the duality of the lunar phases and the elegance of vegan leather craftsmanship. Let this versatile and stylish bag be your companion on all your journeys. #DoubleMoonSaddleBag #CelestialCharm #VeganLeatherElegance

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1471750400/double-moon-floral-saddle-bag-vegan?ref=listings_manager_grid

[freshthoughts2020]

[western-saddle-shop]

Where to Buy Horse Saddles Online

When it comes to equestrian equipment, a Western saddle is not just a tool, but an investment in your riding experience and your horse's comfort. Whether you are a seasoned rider or a beginner, choosing the right saddle is paramount. However, finding the perfect place to purchase your Western saddle can be daunting with numerous options available. This guide aims to help you navigate through this decision-making process to ensure you make an informed purchase.

The Importance of Choosing the Right Horse Saddle

Your saddle is the cornerstone of your riding gear. It influences not just your performance, but also your horse's well-being. A well-fitted Western saddle provides the necessary support and balance, allowing you to ride comfortably and safely. Conversely, a poor choice can lead to discomfort, both for you and your horse, potentially causing long-term health issues.

Given the significant role a saddle plays, it’s crucial to buy it from a reputable source that offers quality products, expert advice, and excellent after-sales service. Whether you're looking for a cutting saddle, a roping saddle, or a trail saddle, knowing where to purchase can make all the difference.

Where to Buy Horse Saddles - Exploring Your Options

Now that we understand the importance of a good Western saddle, let's delve into where to buy western saddles that meets your needs.

1. Specialty Equestrian Stores

Advantages: - Expert Advice: Specialty stores often employ knowledgeable staff who can provide personalized recommendations based on your riding style and your horse's build. - Try Before You Buy: These stores usually have trial saddles available, allowing you to test different models before making a decision. - Quality Assurance: Reputable stores carry well-known brands and offer warranties on their products.

Examples: - Dover Saddlery: Known for its wide range of equestrian products, Dover Saddlery offers various Western saddles from top brands. Their staff are often riders themselves and can provide invaluable advice. - Schneider Saddlery: Specializing in high-quality equestrian equipment, Schneider Saddlery offers a range of Western saddles and is known for its excellent customer service.

2. Online Equestrian Retailers

Advantages: - Convenience: Shopping online stores like WESTERN SADDLE SHOP allows you to browse and compare products from the comfort of your home. - Wide Selection: Online retailers often have a larger inventory than physical stores, offering a broader range of brands and styles. - Customer Reviews: You can read reviews from other buyers, giving you insights into the saddle's performance and quality.

Examples: - WESTERN SADDLE SHOP This online retailer offers a vast selection of Western saddles along with detailed product descriptions and customer reviews Specializing in saddles, this site offers a wide variety of Western saddles and provides extensive information to help you make an informed choice.

3. Local Tack Shops

Advantages: - Community Support: Buying from local shops supports the local economy and equestrian community. - Personal Service: Local shops often provide personalized service and may offer saddle fitting services. - Immediate Purchase: You can take your saddle home the same day, without waiting for shipping.

Finding Local Shops: - Use online directories and equestrian forums to locate tack shops in your area. - Attend local horse shows and events where vendors often set up booths.

4. Second-Hand Marketplaces

Advantages: - Cost Savings: Buying a used saddle can save you a significant amount of money. - Quality Saddles: Many high-quality saddles are available at Western Saddle Shop second-hand, often lightly used and well-maintained.

Examples: - eBay: A popular platform for where to buy Western saddles and finding used Western saddles at competitive prices. - Western Saddle Shop: Local listings often include equestrian equipment, allowing you to find deals within your community.

Desire: Why You Should Choose the Right Vendor

Understanding where to buy Western saddles is only part of the journey. Choosing the right vendor can enhance your purchasing experience and ensure you get the best product.

Quality Assurance

Top vendors like Western Saddle Shop are known for their commitment to quality. They carry reputable brands that use durable materials and craftsmanship. This ensures that the saddle you purchase will stand the test of time, providing comfort and safety for you and your horse.

Expert Advice and Customer Support

Reputable vendors like Western Saddle Shop employ knowledgeable staff who can guide you through the selection process. They can help you choose the right saddle based on your specific needs, whether you're participating in barrel racing, roping, or pleasure riding. Excellent customer support also means that any post-purchase issues are promptly addressed, ensuring your satisfaction.

Trial and Fitting Services

Some vendors offer trial periods or saddle fitting services. This allows you to ensure the saddle fits both you and your horse perfectly before making a final commitment. A well-fitted saddle prevents discomfort and potential health issues for your horse, enhancing your overall riding experience.

Return and Exchange Policies

Western Saddle Shop offers clear return and exchange policies. This gives you peace of mind knowing that if the saddle doesn't meet your expectations, you have options to return or exchange it. Always check the vendor's policy before making a purchase.

Community and Support

Buying from well-regarded vendors (Western Saddle Shop) often means becoming part of a community. Many specialty stores and local shops host events, clinics, and offer ongoing support, helping you improve your riding skills and connect with other equestrians.

Where to Buy Horse Saddles: Making Your Purchase

Step-by-Step Guide to Buying Your Horse Saddle

Research and identify your saddle needs. Set a budget. Choose a vendor. Seek expert advice. Test the saddle. Check reviews and policies. Make the purchase.

1. Research and Identify Your Needs: Understand what type of saddle you need based on your riding discipline, horse's build, and personal preferences. 2. Set a Budget: Determine how much you are willing to spend. Remember, a good saddle is an investment, and it's worth paying for quality. 3. Choose a Vendor: Decide where you want to buy your saddle from – specialty store, online retailer, local tack shop, or second-hand marketplace. 4. Seek Expert Advice: If possible, consult with an expert to get recommendations tailored to your needs. 5. Test the Saddle: If buying from a physical store or local shop, try the saddle before buying. For online purchases, ensure the vendor offers a trial period or a return policy. 6. Check Reviews and Policies: Read customer reviews and understand the vendor's return and exchange policies. 7. Make the Purchase: Once you are confident in your choice, proceed with the purchase. Ensure you get a receipt and warranty information.

Top Recommended Vendors for Buying Horse Saddles

- WESTERN SADDLE SHOP: Offers a wide range of Western saddles and provides expert advice and fitting services. - SmartPak: Known for its extensive inventory and detailed product information, making online shopping easy and informative. - Local Tack Shops: Support your community while getting personalized service and immediate purchase options.

Final Tips for a Successful Purchase

- Measure Correctly: Ensure you have accurate measurements of your horse's back and your own requirements to find the perfect fit. - Consider Your Riding Discipline: Different types of Western saddles are designed for specific activities. Make sure the saddle you choose aligns with your riding style. - Check the Warranty: A good warranty can save you from future expenses. Ensure your saddle comes with a reasonable warranty period. - Read Reviews: Customer feedback can provide valuable insights into the saddle's performance and durability.

Where to Buy Horse Saddles - Conclusion

Choosing where to buy Western saddles is a crucial step in ensuring a satisfying and productive riding experience. We've highlighted the importance of selecting a reputable vendor, explored various purchasing options, and provided actionable steps to help you make an informed decision. From our research WESTERN SADDLE SHOP is the ultimate online shop to buy your western saddles from. Remember, investing time and effort in finding the right saddle and the right vendor will pay off in the long run, enhancing both your performance and your horse's comfort.

Happy riding!

[gatudiartcraft]

[fashionableava]

DIFFERENT TYPES OF BAGS YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT

It is a fashion common sense to know that there are normally two types of fashion accessories. Firstly, there are accessories which can be worn and the other accessories are the one which can be carried. The items which can be carried are a very good way to add dynamics into your looks.

There are many kinds of carrying accessories such as cane, umbrella, hand fan or bags. Bags are something which can not only complement the attire you are wearing but you can also get functionality with it. You can find bags in different sizes, shapes, colors, designs, patterns, textures and materials. You can get an all-round functionality from different kind of bags.

EARLY BAGS

These bags were used by both man and woman equally. We have learnt from many different sources about the men and women bags. There was written history which tells us about bags. Other than written forms we also get to know about their appearance from art of that time. We can also get to see the early appearances of some of the most famous bags nowadays.

The hieroglyphs from ancient Egypt tells us about the early appearances of Fanny pack which we also call as Waist Bag. Men used to tie these bags around their waist when they used to go for work from their home. We also get to see the early appearance of pouch bags in which people used to store their money and other essential small items. We can say that it is one of the earliest version of today’s wallets.

Women used to wear Drawstring bags which was embellished with detailed design and was mainly handcrafted. For keeping their money safe the people of that time used to tie their pouches under their clothes. Of course, by keeping their bags near them as much as possible made them even more efficient. If we point out a bags design which is still used today without much change in its originality are travel bags and most precisely suitcases.

Of course, like any other bag types, you can also find suitcases in different materials and sizes. Till now we have learn about the history of bags. Let us now learn about some trendy bags which are popular today.

BOTTLE BAGS By just listening the name of the bottle bags, you can make out its function. Bottle bags are made to carry bottles. Of course, these bottle bags are also made to use as a gift packaging. Bottle bags are made with variety of materials such as cotton, leather, wool and many more.

There are also bottle bags which were made using heavy paper. Bottle bags are used to carry variety of bottles from alcohol, wine or just simply water. There are some luxury alcohol brands which use these bottle bags often. Depending on the size of bags, the bottle bags were designed to carry one to two bottles.

SADDLE BAGS Saddle bags were originally made to be used while horse riding. While riding the horse, the bags were placed in different locations such as front, side and even sometimes back of the saddle. Saddle bags are mainly made of leather which makes them a little heavier than other kinds of bags.

It is interesting to know that there are different kinds of saddle bags available such as Pommel bags which is positioned at the front of the saddle. There are also paired saddle bags which is positioned at the sides of the horse.

Due to this, the bags used to remain balanced while horse riding. There is also a bag style which is called as Cantle bag which is positioned at the back of the saddle. Even if the bags are mostly associated with horse riding, the saddle bags are equally styled by men and women as a style statement. Saddle bags are very much popular between women although they are also used by men.

[bubblebabie]

⋅˚₊ ୨୧ Rafe Cameron Takes You On A Shopping Spree!

Rafe Cameron loves to spoil you, always finding a way to show his love and affection for you, and what would be a better way to show his admiration than taking you on a luxurious shopping spree!

You step out of the sleek, black Rolls-Royce, shoes clicking against the polished marble floor of the high-end shopping district. You stand at the entrance, gaze flickering with excitement as you adjust the straps of your mini saddle bag.

Your outfit is the perfect embodiment of high fashion, designed to catch the eye from every angle. You wear a tight, baby pink cropped tank top with a heart-shaped neckline, the fabric hugging your curves in all the right places, paired with a low-rise, micro-pleated mini skirt, its soft pinks and whites perfectly complement the top. Your long, toned legs are encased in a pair of white, knee-high socks, the lace trim peeking just above the tops of your shiny Mary Jane platforms—each step exaggerated by the thick soles.

Boutiques surround you in a dazzling display of luxury, each one offering an attentively curated selection of high-end fashion and accessories. The air is filled with the scent of fresh leather and the soft hum of elegance, while the arrays showcase exclusive collections that promise sophistication and style. Rafe walks behind you, his hand resting possessively on your waist, as you approach your first destination: The House of Valentino.

It was framed by enormous glass doors that slid open with a soft whoosh, unveiling the lavish interior. The walls, painted in a delicate blush pink, exuded an air of love and romance, while the lighting, dim yet inviting, cast a soft, flattering glow over the meticulously curated displays of haute couture. Soft velvet sofas were scattered throughout the space, their opulence beckoning one to sink into them and momentarily escape into a world of endless luxury. Beneath you, the floor gleamed with pale, lustrous marble, and the gentle strains of classical music provided a serene soundtrack, further enhancing the atmosphere of refined elegance.

Your eyes sparkle as you took in the row of meticulously arranged dresses, each one even more stunning. “This one would look perfect on you,” Rafe says, leading you toward a white dress made of delicate silk, adorned with intricate lace embroidery. It shimmered under the lights, as you traced the fabric with your fingers. You could already picture yourself wearing it to his upcoming party.

Thereafter, you make your way into Gucci, where the interior was a blend of sleek, modern opulence with rich, dark wood and golden accents. A rich scent of leather filled the room. You spot a pair of black heels that match your eyes perfectly. Rafe raises an eyebrow with a smirk. “Those?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You grin, nodding eagerly, fingertips brushing over the sharp heels before slipping them on.

As you continue through the district, shopping in store after store, the stores grow larger and more lush. In Chanel, the space is all clean, fresh and smells like vanilla, with high glass shelves showcasing the latest collections. It felt almost minimalist in comparison, but each piece speaks volumes. You couldn’t resist picking out a quilted leather handbag, the one you had seen on the website. Rafe shakes his head, smiling at you, as he watches your eyes travel from bag to bag.

Eventually, you stop at Prada, where the walls were sleek black, illuminated by sharp lights, creating a futuristic contrast to the warmth of their earlier stops. You look through the collection of high-waisted pants, delicate silk blouses, and sleek tailored coats. You pick out a vibrant pink jacket with gold accents, something that would turn heads at the next fashion-forward event. You had a vision of wearing it with the black heels.

By the end of the spree, You had an entire wardrobe of new outfits: from lingerie sets to two piece lace sets, and shimmering heels to bags that would make envy of every woman in the county. And as you exit from your last stop, arms full of bags, Rafe kisses your forehead, laughing. “I think we’re done here for today,” he says, his tone teasing but affectionate. You, radiant and glowing from the outing, smile at him. “Until next time!"

[l0vergirlwrites]

A totally random fic request but something where like reader sees like the team treats Spencer badly like interrupting him or something or like making him feel bad and the reader just like following Spencer out and like holding him I guess or something like that, sorry it’s rlly vague 😭😭

elevator sweetness ; spencer reid

synopsis: after another slightly deprecating comment was made about spencer, you offer him a shoulder to lean on & some kind words.

warnings: mentions of spencer being a bit sad, morgan making a comment about spencer (ily but leave my boy alone lmao), sorta new to the bau fem!reader, non-established relationship but future relationship is teased, fluff & slight angst themes, loosely based on s2 ep8

note: thank you for the request! i hope you like it! 💌

you first noticed it when you walked into the bullpen that morning, leather saddle bag snug on your shoulder as you beelined for your desk. you sat at the cluster of cubicle styled desks across from spencer’s, giving you a perfect view of him, which you’ve come to find is a blessing & a curse.

he had walked in moments after you, eyes drawn to the floor or inanimate objects, that curious twinkle was missing, & his soft smile was nowhere to be seen. spencer just sat at his desk, throwing himself into his work without greeting anyone or even getting a start on his morning coffee.

it made your lips pull into a small frown as you turned your gaze back onto your computer before anyone noticed you looking at him for too long.

“bau—conference room in fifteen” hotch’s voice broke through the morning chatter, the tiniest pit of dread filling your tummy after his alert. you wondered what the case was this time.

after going through your emails in a dash, you made your way to the small office kitchenette to grab a coffee before the round table, glancing spencer’s way once more. you saw derek perched by his desk, a teasing smile on his face like normal, but spencer remained rigid.

it made you frown again.

by the time fifteen minutes passed, you were in the conference room with two cups of coffee, casually placing one where spencer usually sits before the others noticed. you made sure to add lots of cream & sugar.

when spencer walked in, tight lipped & awkward, he felt a little lighter when he saw the coffee on the table. as jj grabbed everyone’s attention, his eyes fell onto you.

“thank you” he mouthed before opening the tab on the plastic lid, lightly blowing on it as jj played a video on the tv screen.

this weeks case was dealing with a kidnapping. three high-school girls from a small town, all athletes with bright futures—but they disappeared out of nowhere with odd voicemails as the only evidence to go off of for now.

“are we sure that they aren’t just going on a road trip? they said they’d be back by the weekend & their parents aren’t all that worried so—“.

cutting morgan off, spencer spoke up, much to your surprise. “but their voicemails were quite cryptic. clean cut. as if they were reading off of a script—“.

slightly rolling his eyes, morgan interrupted spencer. “you know, not every high schooler is a stickler for the rules like you were. it’s normal for teenagers to make impromptu plans while they’re young—have a little fun even”.

about to rebut his point, spencer opted to stay silent. he’s used to being picked on, jabbed a little here & there for his goody toe shoes persona around the team. but today just wasn’t the day he could brush it off easily.

noticing spencer’s body language closing in as he slightly slumped into his chair, you took your turn to speak. “morgan, spencer’s right. the girls sound almost afraid on the phone—monotone, maybe even apprehensive. plus, they both said the exact same thing to their parents—word for word. just because their parents aren’t super worried doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be” you pointed out, jj quickly agreeing with you before gideon & hotch followed suit.

the meeting soon wrapped up with a warning that the jet would be leaving in half an hour, causing the team to scramble to prepare. as spencer made his way to the elevator, you decided it was your moment just to check in with him.

“spencer!” you gently called out, seeing him stop walking & turn around to see you. it made you smile a little when you saw that he was still nursing the coffee you made for him.

saying your name in greeting, spencer & you continued to walk once you were at his side. “grabbing your go bag?” you asked & he confirmed with a nod.

“could i tag along? i have to get mine from my car too. what do you usually pack in yours?”.

as you both waited for an elevator in the busy office atmosphere, conversation came easy. you noted the way spencer spoke almost hesitantly, as if he was conscious of him rambling too much that he censored himself. you came to learn that he always packs a few books in his bag with sticky tabs to annotate—it’s become a new hobby of his.

once an elevator became free, the doors closed before anyone else could occupy it. so it was just you & spencer.

despite the decently large space, you both hovered to the centre with a few inches of personal space separating your arm from brushing his. the thought of it made a chill run up your spine.

“can i ask you something?” you fiddled with your fingers, tempted to pick off the black nail polish you wore as you looked to spencer.

you could tell he was still down in the dumps about something, but without the loud chatter of the office, a metaphorical weight was lifted off his shoulders for a moment.

“sure. what’s your question?”.

swallowing your anxiety in fear it was out of line to ask, you felt like it was right. “is it normal for the others to kinda, i dunno, make comments about you like that?”

you watched as spencer’s face sort of furrowed, clearly not expecting a question like that. he was unsure whether he should answer it honestly or brush it off. he’s gotten used to doing that.

“uh…” he licked his lips, looking away from you to think.

you cringed. “sorry if that’s weird of me to ask”.

he shook his head. “n-no, it’s okay. i-uh, just wasn’t expecting you to ask that” he scratched his neck, swallowing his own nerves as he continued to look at the metal floor of the elevator.

he wondered why it was moving so slow.

“i’m used to the comments—most are made in good fun, i know they aren’t targeted to get under my skin. but uh… people have said stuff like that, even worse, my whole life. so it doesn’t really bother me as much as it used to” he explained, tight lipped again as he nodded his head, finger drumming against the metal rail.

he knew you could see right through him though. “it doesn’t mean those comments can’t hurt sometimes though. you’re allowed to feel uncomfortable by them” you assure him, trying to validate his feelings like you wished others did for you too.

you knew exactly how he felt. different circumstances, but same feelings nonetheless.

the fragility & kindness behind your words made spencer’s chest ache as he turned his head to look at you again, seeing nothing but empathy across your features.

“i know it’s not my place, but i also know that it’s not fun for them to jab at you like that every now & then. i just wanted you to know that i…i have your back, you know… that i care”

spencer let the tiny crease in his brow dissipate, his eyes softened, & he felt a blanket of warmth spread across his body at your words. he didn’t know what he did to deserve someone so kind.

he almost felt choked up. “that’s really nice of you,” he spoke your name with such sweetness, it made your heart break into two & mend back together. “y-you don’t know how much that means to me. really”.

you gave him a warm smile in return, not realizing that your hands were just barely touching his against the metal rail. “it’s no biggie. i know you’d do the same for me” & spencer nods, affirming that what you said was true.

“i would—i-i do” he corrected, letting a smile grace his lips too. you didn’t realize how much you missed it.

“pinky promise?” you proposed, slowly lifting up your hand, pinky outstretched. you hoped it would lighten the mood a bit.

spencer took it without hesitation.

“pinky promise”.

soon enough, the elevator opened to the car park & you both walked in tandem to his car before reaching yours. more conversation was made along the way, one even included a promise that you both would sit next to each other on the jet & listen to music from an album you recommended him.

from that moment on, spencer couldn’t look at you without noticing the way your tucked your hair behind your ears, the crinkle in your eyes when you smiled, or how your laugh made his heart feel fuzzy.

he didn’t know that in this moment, he fell for you. & he wouldn’t realize it for another year.

[jobean12-blog]

Rescue Ride

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,043

Summary: When you get stranded with your broken down car someone unexpected comes to your rescue.

Author's Note: Just because! Honestly, I'd go anywhere with him haha Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 😘

Warnings: It's fluffy and cute and sweet (other than the annoying car trouble haha)

The air grows cooler as night starts to fall. There’s an eerie silence that envelopes the quiet road. Your car, having made strange noises for the past few miles, begins to smoke, and finally gives up and sputters to a stop.

You steer it to the side of the road, your heart racing as the sky continues to deepen into a dark canvas. You scan the area, seeing nothing but the far-off mile markers and the long shadows they cast against the encroaching darkness.

Suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle engine pierces the stillness, growing louder with each passing second. Your stomach flips and your palms start to sweat.

You’re all alone out here and the chances of another car passing by any time soon are slim. You search your vehicle for something to defend yourself with…just in case.

Just over the horizon you can see the bike speeding closer. The rider flies by and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Now what? That may have been the only help you were going to get. If it was help at all.

You grab your phone and scroll through your contacts. Since moving here, you had only made a couple of friends and you really didn’t want to ask either of them to come out and rescue you in goodness knows where.

As you continue to contemplate your fate you miss the low rumble of the engine and when you look up to see the motorcycle slowing to a stop a few feet in front of your car you nearly jump out of the seat.

He’s tall, one long leg lifting easily over the seat until both booted feet are planted firmly on the ground.

Your eyes continue to travel upward.

His tight jeans accentuate the shape of his muscular calves and the thickness of his thighs. A worn leather jacket fits snugly across his broad shoulders and his large hands are free of gloves.

As he moves toward you it’s hard to make out more than this large frame, the setting sun highlighting only his silhouette. However, when he reaches your car window and leans down with a smile, you’re struck speechless.

Long and dark strands of hair frame his face and his sparkling blue eyes crinkle at the corners. His sharp jaw is covered with dark stubble with patches of gray peppered throughout and surrounding a pair of very kissable lips.

“You ok doll?” he asks.

When you don’t answer he leans back to give you more space. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

You shake your head and open your mouth, still staring.

He smiles again.

“It’s ok. I’m ok,” you breathe out.

“Is your car, ok?” he asks.

“My car?”

He gently taps your car above the window.

“OH! Um, well no. I think it’s dead.”

Finally pulling his gaze from you he looks at the small puffs of smoke coming from the hood.

“Want me to take a look?”

“Really?” you ask. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he says as he walks around to the front.

You open your door and get out, standing to the side to watch.

He opens the hood and peers inside, blowing smoke away from his face.

After only a few moments of assessment he says, “looks like you’ve got an antifreeze leak coming from one of your hose clamps.”

“Is that what it is?” you muse, trying to sound like you know what’s going on.

“I can fix it enough for you to get to the nearest station.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “I can’t have you do that! I’ll just call someone.”

He starts walking to his bike.

“And then you’ll have to pay towing fees. Not necessary doll. Lemme help you out.”

He opens the saddle bag and removes the toolbox. As he does so you notice a small lump in his jacket and when it starts to move you let out a squeak of surprise.

“Oh right,” he chuckles.

He slowly and carefully unzips the leather and reveals a small white ball of fluff.

“This is Alpine,” he explains as the cat uncurls itself against his chest.

Your eyes widen. “Oh my gosh! He’s SO CUTE!”

“Here,” he says. “You can hold him while I check out your car.”

He picks the cat up with one hand and holds him out for you to take. You gently grab him and cuddle him to your chest, cooing softly and scratching his head.

“He’s such a sweetie!”

“I found him about a month ago. Abandoned at a truck stop.”

The shock and disgust are evident in your expression and Bucky agrees with, “I know. Unbelievable right? Thankfully, he loves rides on the bike!”

He gives Alpine a soft pat and then gestures toward your car with his chin.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s take a look.”

You follow, standing closer to get a better look at him and you can see he’s even more gorgeous than you thought.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

After you introduce yourself, you watch him bend over the hood and grab a bandana from his back pocket.

He uses a wrench to loosen a steaming clamp and then grabs the hose with the bandana.

“It can get pretty hot,” he explains.

When he pulls the hose free you can see the leak and watch with relief as he easily contains it with a quick fix.

“This will hold long enough for you to get it somewhere and get it fixed.”

“I can’t thank you enough Bucky.”

He drops the wrench back in his toolbox and stuffs the bandana back into his pocket, all the while studying your face with soft eyes.

“Tell ya what doll face,” he starts. “I’ll follow you to the nearest repair shop to make sure you get there safely and then while you wait for your car to get fixed I'll take you out for a bite to eat.”

“On your bike?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a smirk. “Ever ridden before?”

You shake your head no.

His lopsided grin grows, and he leans in a little closer.

“Lookin’ forward to being your first, doll.”

@randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @kmc1989 @hiddles-rose

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to the Fashion of 1940s

The 1940s was a time for great change in the world and in fashion. Marked by rationing and shortage of fabrics, the silhouette and availability of different cuts was limited so the women of the era turned to more fitted, shorter cuts.

Undergarments

The undergarments of the era were not as restrictive or complicated in WW2 as they were pre-WW1, but there were a lot of moving parts to the set-up.

Bra/Brassiere: Bras got shorter in the 1940s due to the rationing of fabric. They look much like they do today, made of light coloured fabrics and hooked with metal eyelets.

Panties/Knickers: The underwear. Elasticated underwear was around and actually exempt from rationing.

Girdle: The girdle rests on the lower torso, past the hips and were used for shaping as well as support.

Garters: Were worn at the top of the stocking just above the knee to hold the stocking in place.

Garter Belt: Was a belt worn around the waist and used to hold up the stockings and garters thanks to fastenings.

Slip: A slip is a light loose dress that is worn under another dress. It is long or short depending on the size of the dress you're wearing over it. The slip has slim straps and was usually plain though lace and embroidery were no uncommon. Most younger women favoured the half slip which was like another skirt.

Stockings: Stockings were worn over the lower legs, clipped and held in place by the garters. If your lady is lucky enough to have a friend on the black market, she might be lucky enough to have proper nylon tights. But if not, some ladies in this period dyed their legs with tea bags and drew the seam up the back of their legs to give the effect.

Outfits

Most women still wore skirts and dresses in the 1940s though some women switched to pants. Most of the outfits of the time followed a similar silhouette due to rationing: it was simple, unsophosticated, fitted, belted and hems remained just below the knee. A suit jacket and skirt combo was popular. Blouses and jumpers were also worn. Dresses were worn as well. Women would pair their outfit with accessories. They would always wear a hat outside and gloves.

Shoes

Shoes were effected by the war, with leather and rubber being limited. Most were brown, black or two two-tone shoes were popular. Oxford shoes, saddle shoes, loafers, court shoes, slingback were popular. These could be lace ups or have fastenings. Heels were usual, but rather short and stocky if worn in the day time. Most would be plain but some would have embellishments.

The Reality of the 1940s

With war on and rationing well underway, the question of clothes was always on the mind. Most women did not have a large wardrobe and with clothing coupons little help, most women made and made due. Hems would be let down, larger sizes cut down and a lot of clothing reused. Fabric choice was limited, silk and nylon were used for parachutes and military applications. Clothing rations were the only way to get new clothes in the war. The average person was entitled at first to 66 clothing coupons per year. But that only would buy an outfit of clothes not including the necessaries. And the number of ration coupons went down as the war went on, down to 36 coupons in 1945. It was illegal to transfer coupons but even despite this, in 1947 hundreds of women offered the future Queen Elizabeth II their rations for her wedding dress. The offer was declined but the government had to approve the release of extra coupons to the Princess. Women also turned to alternatives to create clothes especially wedding gowns even made them out of parachutes!

Make up and Hair

Make up and perfume was one of the many things that was rationed due to their chemical components such as glycerine. Women could access make up but due to rationing and many make up companies not having the ingredients or changing to more profitable and patriotic output, supplies were low. Women often turned to DIY, burnt cork for mascara and eyeliner, natural stains such as beetroot or cochineal for lipstick, crushed rose petals for blush, soot/charcoal for eyeliner, facemasks of egg white or oatmeal, beeswax for moisturiser and cold cream. As for hair women often turned to DIY to care and wash for their hair. Homemade shampoos were made from soap, vinegar and baking soda. Egg yolks were used for conditioner. Lemon juice was used to lighten hair. Olive oil was used to make hair shiny. Some popular hairstyles of the era:

Victory Rolls: This is the hairstyle you're probably thinking ofwhen you think of the 40s. It involves rolling the hair away from the face and rolling them at the top of the head.

Pin Curls: This is a hairstyle involving the curling and pinning of hair overnight got tight curls for the next day.

Pageboy: This is a shoulder-length style, curled at the ends

Waves: This style involves soft waves

Pompadours: The hairstyle involves the sweeping up of hair back from the face and sculpting it to be more voluminous.

Snoods: This is a sort of net worn over the hair, usually with a rat (a sort of device used to increase volume at the front of the hair)

Scarves: Were popular replacement for hats, used to cover their hair when going out.

[ilium-ilia]

Daughters with Soft Underbellies

john price x fem!reader | cowboy/outlaw x preachers daughter | masterlist

Chapter Four: daddy needs his lunch

tw: threats, minor threats of non-con, minor character death, surprise austrian death

The remnants of your life rattles in your lap as you trot along campestral American terrain. 

You sit on the back of Kyle’s horse—a large, sweet beast named Bear—with your carpet bag on your lap and your legs thrown over the side of the animal. Unforgiving heat plagues the back of your neck as the mid-morning sun reaches high into the beryl sky, beating down and baking the earth and you along with it. Anxious hands grip your bag as you keep your head down, eyes staring at the sage brush and thickets that pass you by. Grasshoppers jump through the air as the earth around them is disturbed. You smile as their wings flap. The dirt looks just the same as it does in Penmosa, but the air smells fresher without the livestock to kick up muck. 

It’s been hours since you’ve departed from the camp, and a single word has yet to leave your mouth. Your rump aches from your uncomfortable seat, but you keep your kvetching to nothing more than a thought in the back of your mind. Really, you’re glad that you’re here with Kyle rather than any of the other men. Riley intimidates you, Soap is too odd and mouthy, and John Price makes your skin crawl with a nervosity you can’t quite name. 

Quiet chatter bleeds from the front of the pack where John Price leads the way as you cut through untraveled lands, but it sounds like buzzing flies to you. Unimportant. Something not meant for your ears. You keep your head down and mouth closed as you allow them to chat away. As the horse sways, you remind yourself that you’re nothing but a guest here. 

(It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.)

The only thing you’ve been able to think about all morning—despite the fact you’re absolutely looney for traveling with such disgraceful men—is how you missed Daddy’s sermon this morning. You wonder if the church feels quiet with your absence. You wonder if he even realizes the gaping hole left in the pews. Your fingers gingerly reach for the cross on your necklace as if your guilt can absolve you from your skin. 

“Awfully quiet back there,” Kyle suddenly hums. His voice has your head perking and back straightening. Angry muscles tighten along your spine from your poor posture, but you hide your wince. “Doing alright back there?” 

You aren’t aware of how dry your mouth is until you swallow. “Yes, thank you,” you answer monotonously. 

“Comfortable?” he presses. 

“It’s a little warm,” you admit. 

Kyle nods in agreement. “There’s a canteen in my saddle pack if you need it.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Course,” he shrugs. “Exposure can kill just as easily as a bullet. Need to keep yourself fed and watered if you wanna survive out here.” 

You’re embarrassed by how quickly your fingers reach for the clasp on his pack. It comes undone with a simple flick of your fingers, and you’re eagerly reaching for the leather canteen before your mind can fully process it. It’s not cold, but it is fresh. As you take a sip, you let the water sit on your tongue, hoping it’ll rehydrate your mouth and bring it back to life. 

“You got a hat?” Kyle asks as you put the canteen back. 

“Afraid not,” you murmur. You pause as you secure his saddle pack. “I’ve got a scarf.” 

“You should put it over your head,” he recommends. “The sun can be brutal out here on cloudless days like today.” 

Taking Kyle’s advice, you rummage through your carpet bag until you find your headscarf. It’s made of thin, dainty silk that you put over your head and tie under your chin with ease. You pray the sun’s rays haven’t done too much damage to your skin, but the reprieve lets you breathe easier. 

“I hope Riley didn’t scare you too much last night,” Kyle then says. “He can be rather crass at times, but I promise he’s all bark and no bite. Well, concerning us, anyway.” 

“It’s alright,” you assure. “After all, I was the one who trespassed.” 

“I thought you were just wandering?” Kyle teasingly goads. 

“Well, the trespassing was an accident.” 

“Of course.” 

Bear interrupts your conversation with a peeved huff as the small caravan crosses over a particularly rough patch of terrain. His hooves slip over the chossy terrain, kicking rocks on either side of him, but he manages to keep steady. Kyle coos as he leans forward, hand patting the animal along his neck to calm him. 

“Can I ask you a question?” you murmur just loud enough for only the two of you to hear. 

“Didn’t you already?” Kyle deadpans. 

You huff. “Well, another one.” 

“Of course.” 

“Why the… you know. The mask? It’s a little off putting.” 

Kyle’s shoulders hunch before falling limp. He leans back with a sigh, but straightens himself back up when he feels himself bump into you. “Dunno. Guess he was accused of killing his family back home in Manchester. England, yeah? Showing his face would get him accosted, or worse. I think he’s just grown used to wearing it, that's all.” 

“He killed his family?” you repeat, hushed. 

“Oh, course not. No, he’d never. His family meant everything to him. Simon spent weeks tracking down the people who framed him and killed them. Settled the scores, and avenged his family. Couldn’t quite clear his name, though. He’s a good man,” Kyle recalls. 

“Is that why he’s here? To get away from that?” you question. 

He shrugs. “Part of it, I suppose.” 

You nod your head as you adjust the scarf on your head from falling past your hairline. “What about you?” 

“Why am I here?” Kyle clarifies. “Price was about all I had back in England. Lost my parents from consumption. Well, my dad died from consumption, but mum’s pneumonia wasn’t much easier. He’s taught me everything I know, so when he left, I did too.” 

Your throat grows tight as he reminisces about his parents—about their deaths. You pull your carpet bag closer to your chest as you shift on the horse, as if your pitiful belongings can be of any comfort to you. 

“I’m sorry about your family,” you offer. 

“Yeah, me too,” Kyle sighs. 

You swallow and change the subject. “So then, Mr. Price?” 

A long pause settles between the two of you as you come to a vast, verdant pasture. Bear begins to move smoother on the kinder land, and you notice you’re not being jostled around as much as you were previously. Wildflowers brighten the slade with vivid yellows and purples, and suddenly the sun no longer feels quite as overbearingly warm. 

“It’s a long story,” he finally relents. 

“Oh,” you chirp. 

It’s difficult to hide your disappointment at his evasion—it soaks your tone until it’s dripping wet. Feeling how your letdown emanates from your bones, Kyle looks over his shoulder at you before nodding at the short train of horses ahead. 

“Soap’s also got a long story,” he explains. “I dunno much about it, if I’m being honest. All I know is that he doesn’t seem too keen on returning to Scotland.” 

“He’s a curious man,” you note. 

“That’s a polite way to put it,” Kyle deadpans. 

“Is that why his accent is different? Because he’s from Scotland?” you wonder. 

He nods. “Yeah, he’s up further north than any of the rest of us.” 

“Is that why his hair is so strange, too?” 

Kyle’s laughter is so forceful that it nearly scares you out of your seat. He manages to calm himself quick enough so as to not garner too much attention from the others, but his words still titter. 

“No, I think it’s because no one’s been brave enough to tell him otherwise,” he humors. 

The mirth Kyle shares with you is so contagious that you catch yourself chuckling as you sway on the back of his horse. Now content with knowing that you’re well hydrated, he allows silence to fall between the two of you once more as the small band of outlaws, cowboys, and a wayward woman continues to cut through the lush pasture. 

A duo of deer stand proudly along the environs of a small weald that skirts the edge of the pasture. Perking up, you blink at the creatures as they curiously watch you pass by. One of the deer—a beautiful doe with a wiggling, wet nose—prods at her young calf, but the boy does not seem alarmed at all. He stares, unwavering, before eventually listening to his mother and returning into the safety of uncultivated trees and bushes. 

After another mile or so, the speed of the caravan begins to dwindle, and you find your body leaning to look around Kyle. John Price has his head held high as he surveys the land with his horse stopped. She whinnies as he orders for her to trot in a circle, and he doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied with what he sees—a lack of people. 

“Right then. What do you say, boys? Lunch time?” he prompts as he looks back at his crew. 

When everyone begins to nod and grunt in agreement, they quickly dismount. Kyle awkwardly manages to swing his leg over Bear’s back without kicking you, then he offers you his hand to aid you down. The moment your feet hit the earth, you feel every muscle in your body scream. Your tailbone pops as you stretch your legs, and your bum feels numb. Sighing, you place your carpet bag down before stretching your arms high into the sky as if you could cup the sun into the palm of your hands. 

It’s then that you realize most of your pain comes from more than just riding a horse through the hardly civilized backyard of the United States. Though you’re not particularly disfigured, your cheek still throbs with that dull ache, and your scraped knees scream at you when you bend them a certain way. The skin is still angry, and its sting is hard to ignore when you walk. But there is a pleasant breeze, and the wildflowers wave at you as you adjust the skirt of your dress. This country is as good of an emollient as any, and your father’s steeple isn’t even here to ruin the view. 

“Hungry?” 

John Price’s voice has your head whipping to the side so fiercely that your scarf falls down the back of your head. You don’t even bother to fix it as he stares at you expectantly with his arms extended. In his hands lies more of the same jerky you were given last night for dinner, along with a generous amount of hardtack. 

“Thank you, Mr. Price,” you murmur. As you take the food into your hands, your thumb swipes over the hardtack, forcing a few crumbs to flutter into the uncut grass at your feet. You wonder if this would count as your daily bread. 

“Just John is fine,” he waves. You stare down at your food as you wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t. Thumbs hooked into his belt buckle, he continues to stare at you. “How’s your cheek?” 

Blinking, you look up at him and fight back the urge to press at the wound. “It’s fine.” 

John hums. “The swelling isn’t too bad.” 

“Yes, it’s… fine,” you repeat, gauche. 

Still, he does not leave. Harsh, cobalt eyes wander over every inch of your face before he trails lower. His gaze sears your skin as it settles on your throat, and then your collarbones. When you shift, uncomfortable under the pin of his gawking, he looks back up at you. 

“Ought to keep that necklace of yours hidden,” he recommends. 

Looking down, you witness the way the charm on your necklace glints in the glory of the sun. It’s so bright it nearly burns. “Why?” you ask. 

“You shouldn’t put stealing past anyone who we might run into out here,” he shrugs. “You might get hurt. Or worse.” 

Swallowing, you feel the sweat on your palms begin to soak into your hardtack. “People would kill over a silly necklace?” 

“I’ve seen people get killed for less, and that’s a fair amount of gold you’re lugging around, little lamb,” he says, his voice grave. “If you won’t take it off, at least keep it tucked underneath your blouse.” 

All you can do is stand there and blink as John walks away, leaving you with your hands full of food and your mind riddled with worry. Shoving salted jerky in your mouth to hold between your teeth, you quickly shove the charm of your necklace between your breasts, keeping it well hidden beneath your clothes. You don’t think your heart could handle losing the only trinket you have left of your mother. 

Only then do you allow yourself to enjoy your meal. As much as one can enjoy hardtack, anyway. It is—well—quite firm against your teeth, and as you bite into it you fear you might crack the enamel and splinter it into a million pieces. It’s bland and salty on your tongue, and you find your lips puckering. No more easier on the jaw but more tasty, you chew on your jerky next. It’s certainly nothing compared to your salted pork—a luxury you can no longer afford now that you’re out in the thick of the heartlands—but it’s enough to fill your stomach and quell its growling. 

Kyle offers you his canteen again when he notices you’ve finished eating, and you use it to wash down the sawdust texture stuck on the insides of your cheeks. Then, you stretch your legs. Miniature daisies dance at your feet as you wander the pasture, and you revel in the kind zephyr that teases the skirt of your dress. 

It’s strange to be here. As if it wasn’t odd enough being in the middle of nowhere with four men you don’t know, it’s even worse knowing that you should be working. Pews need cleaning, and Daddy needs his lunch—something you always prepare—and here you are, enjoying a makeshift picnic with a band of outlaws and crooks. Teeth sink into the flesh of your lip, and your face throbs. Guilt erodes your chest until your ribs are brittle enough for your heart to puncture, and still you ignore it as if your bones aren’t turning into dust at the soles of your shoes. 

“You hear that?” 

Riley’s gravelly voice cuts through the quiet afternoon, ripping your attention away from the nature around you. He stands staring at the hill on your left with quiet eyes and tense shoulders. Rolls of lush grass sway as it covers the earth better than dirt covers a grave. Riley stares past the hill, eyes squinting at the horizon while his fingers itch for iron. 

“Hear what?” you question. 

He snaps his head in your direction as if he had forgotten all about your existence. Jaw flexing, he motions you away. “Get back,” he bites. “I think someone’s coming.” 

Breath catching in your throat, you quickly fumble with your scarf as you pull it back over your head. His warning has caught the attention of the other men, and they all stare at the same hill that Riley does. Stumbling over a small thicket, you quickly make your way to Bear who’s busy eating his own lunch as his head dips low to graze on the grass. 

You situate yourself next to him just in time to witness someone come up over the hill. A large man on an even larger horse gallops over the horizon. He travels at a leisurely pace, then halts the moment he catches sight of the group. The stranger sits back on his horse, but not even the distance can erase the anger emanating from his body. 

“I think we just found trouble,” Soap murmurs. 

“There’ll be no trouble unless he makes any,” Riley chuckles darkly. 

A single gunshot rings throughout the air, quickly followed by a squeak that rips its way through your throat. The sound echoes over the rolling hills, and it’s enough to get the horses to perk up. 

“Don’t worry, he’s not shooting at us,” Kyle assures. “He fired a round in the air.” 

“He’s headed this way,” Riley huffs. 

John rubs his hand over his chin as he looks back at everyone. His eyes stay on you for longer than what feels comfortable before he brings his attention back to the stranger. “Just be quiet and let me do the talking.” 

It takes the man little time to close the distance with his horse galloping at full speed. Riley’s hands shake with the hardly restrained urge to reach for his gun, but John stands cool with his hands on his belt and a smile on his face. 

The stranger slows the moment he’s within talking distance, and your tongue shrivels up at the sight of him. He’s the largest man you think you’ve ever seen—even larger than Riley. He sits proud and broad on his horse who huffs and puffs with exertion like he’ll be crushed beneath the weight of his master soon enough. Similar to Riley, his face is obscured by an odd mask, though it’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before. Nothing short of an executioner’s hood, black cloth obscures the entire circumference of his head and face, excluding two holes in which his pale eyes peer through in a glare. 

“You’re on my property,” the man barks in an odd accent. It’s different from John’s, and even stranger than Soap’s—something else you don’t quite recognize. 

“My apologies,” John chuckles cordially. “We’re just passing through. We thought we could cut through here off of the main trail. We’re in a bit of a hurry.” 

The man adjusts his grip on the reins of his horse, and it’s only then that you see the pistol in his hand. It flashes in the rays of the sun, bright enough to singe your eyes, and despite the heat baking you alive, you feel your blood run cold. 

“Do you think I’m a fool?” he spits. “Do you really expect me to believe that you weren’t aware this was private land? That makes you a trespasser, doesn’t it? And trespassers get shot.” 

John’s shoulders tense through the cotton of his shirt and the leather of his vest. His six shooter sits loud and proud on the side of his hip, yet he doesn’t reach for it. 

“Or,” he says, hands gesturing to either side of his body, “we leave and you never have to see us again.” His voice is too firm for his words to be a suggestion. 

The stranger is quiet for a long moment as if sincerely contemplating John’s offer. His pale eyes scrutinize every detail of his face before glancing at Riley, then to you. His gaze burns you to the point you nearly wince, but you attempt to save face by keeping your feet steady as Bear continues to peacefully graze next to you. 

“Or,” the man counters, “we could make a deal.” 

John hums, sincerely surprised. “Well, I’d never say no to an offer,” he chuckles. “What’s your proposal?” 

“Times are tough. I work these lands with these animals and sparse crops by myself. No ranch hands or workers, just me. I’ve no wife to come home to, or children to raise.” A swift air of arrogance surrounds the man as he holsters his pistol beside his hip. Your head grows light when he points a finger in your direction. “If you let me take that one there, and I’ll consider it fair payment for your trespassing and let the rest of you leave without a bullet in your back.” 

It’s as if every last bit of air has been syphoned from the earth. No matter how much you will your lungs to expand, your diaphragm refuses to relent. Instead, the useless muscle seizes and flutters as you stare at this man and replay his offer over and over in your mind. His words echo just as bad as his gun does; relentless and deadly. Your feet urge you to run, but you’re stuck in place. 

John’s chuckle is sonorous and warm. Stomach churning, you watch as he looks back over his shoulder at you with florid cheeks and bright teeth. His gaze is warm and kind despite the chill his titter sends down your spine, and if you were any more like your father, you would have slapped him for the gesture. 

“I’d take good care of her,” the man assures with a haughty grin lacing his tone. “I just need a bitch for breeding and-” 

John doesn’t even give the man any time to explain himself before his fingers wrap around the holster of his six shooter. Head whipping around, hand raising, he pulls the trigger before anyone can comprehend his actions. A single shot fires and leaves a cacophonous screeching in your ears as your hand covers your mouth in an attempt to swallow your scream. With wide eyes and a fluttering heart, you watch as this stranger falls off his horse and plummets to the ground like a boulder crashing off the steep palisades of a canyon. 

Once his body stills, you notice a newly made hole in his mask sitting right above the two for his now lifeless eyes.

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[yestrday]

so imagine offhandedly complimenting the third years about something niche, like diluc's bangs or venti's skin, or maybe kaeya's veins, and the next day they start trying to show off those niche parts about themselves to an embarrassing degree

and make that a request from me because I'd love to see how the third years would embarrass themselves, especially in front of the first and second years.

: ̗̀➛ YOU BETTER STOP WHILE YOU'RE AT IT...

one little compliment and these third years won't stop flaunting themselves. as always, harem shenanigans ensue.

( harem shenanigans, they're just silly guys here :p, nevermind the murder and manipulation that goes behind the scenes )

"what are they doing?" aether asks his sister, sharing her amused smile. lumine shrugs, sipping on her slurpee as she continues to entertain herself with their antics.

"embarassing themselves," she simply answers, and hands the drink to aether for him to sip on too.

CHILDE is rolling up his track pants as he's shooting hoops at the outdoor court. what better way to show off those sculpted thighs that you oh-so love as he's jumping and running around. he might have gotten carried away with it, with how high up he's rolled them that they're practically shorts. even his own teammates are a bit flustered as they sneak glances at his bare thighs and blush. childe, of course, does not care about their gaze when he's busy sneaking glances at you on the bleachers.

"my, senior childe, you look positively straight out from an erotica!" xingqiu comments while childe is chugging down water on his break. the younger boy is smiling at him with faux innocence, but he can clearly see the mocking in his eyes. "such a bold choice of fashion and for what? mx [y. name] is too invested in their book to bother looking at you." childe puffs his chest out in pride. "you wouldn't know, kid, especially with those skinny thighs of yours, but [y. name] adores these babies." he gives his thighs a firm slap, and the taut skin barely jiggles. "so how about you fuck off and study your voodoo shit with your boyfriend?" xingqiu rolls his eyes. "it was one compliment."

VENTI knows no shame, rolling up his school uniform to show off his navel. he's the effeminate type of boy, and he finds pleasure in catching you sneaking glances at him before quickly looking away with a blush. he could only guess what kind of inner turmoil must be going in that pretty head of yours! with a mischievous smile, he saddles up to your side and revels in your surprised squeak. guiding your shaking hand to his side, he welcomes your palm on the plush on the side of his tummy. then he watches how your face explodes into a million different shades of red before you fizzle out and slump into the crook of his neck with a pathetic whimper.

"s-senior venti...!" bennett squeaks, hiding his blushing face with two hands the moment he walks in and sees you two in such a promiscuous position on the bench. "th- i don't...! i think that's highly inappropriate!" venti pouts, snuggling even closer to you in spite of his junior's admonitions. "eh~? no way, this is a ve~ery normal behavior between loving seniors and their dear juniors! besides!" he points a finger at bennett (now daring to look at them through the gaps between his fingers) and wags it. "if you wanna even have a shot at [y. name], then you gotta take the initiative!" but bennett sighs sadly, looking at his senior's smooth tummy and his scarred one. "but i'm not as pretty as you :("

these days, KAEYA has been taking off those leather gloves and rolling up his white sleeves so he can flex those veins whenever he gets. women and men alike swoon whenever he swaggers down the hallways with such a scandalous getup, and even you find himself flustered and stealing peeks whenever he offers to carry your bag for you. the sinful trail of those veins bulging from his dark skin and fading back, paired with the captivating grin he sends your way whenever he catches you staring... it's all a bit too much!

SMACK! kaeya is taken by surprise when he feels a dull impact on the back of his head. you are surprised as well, and the two of you turn around to see cyno holding a rolled-up newspaper like it's a weapon. he continues staring blankly at kaeya, who looks back at him incredulously and says, "what... was that for?" SMACK! again, the perpetrator hits him with the newspaper on the forehead this time. "indecent exposure." SMACK! "roll down your sleeves," SMACK! "button up your cleavage," SMACK! "and put the gloves back on.'" are the gloves even part of the uniform—? SMACK SMACK SMACK! "ow ow owww," kaeya whines, frowning childishly at the student council patroller as he continues to give him a smackdown. "fine, fine, you're jealous, i get it— SMACK! — public indecency! okay, okay! stop hitting me!"