#camel sweatshirt

[layla4567]

If Only

Summary: You own a small esoteric shop where you sell incense, energy crystals, etc. But no one knows that you also practice alchemy and enjoy experimenting with potions. One day, a small mistake will turn your life and someone else's upside down.

Warnings: Love potion, Idiots in love(?, Fluff and corny, Inaccurate information about alchemy or tarot, English isn't my first language, No proofread, Love confession, Fem reader, Y/n use, Thunderbolts spoilers (it's been a month but just in case), The group protecting Bob, Long plot/fic

Wc: 7k (so sorry! 😭)

A/n: Yep, this is inspired by the Descendants song "If Only" (and a little bit by the movie itself). I don't know why I'm mentioning this, I think it's pretty obvious lol

Dividers credit: @rookthornesartistry and @sister-lucifer

You sat comfortably behind the mahogany counter, waiting for new customers, tapping your fingers to the rhythm of an imaginary song. Your small shop was warm and comforting, the walls made of dark wood to absorb heat and repel annoying noises. Potted thistles and pothos hung in the entrance, and every time someone opened the door, the melodic tinkling of an angel caller could be heard.

The walls were decorated with pictures of motivational quotes and dreamcatchers of all colors and sizes. Several shelves were filled with quartz, amethyst, and other crystals, as well as some Buddhas. On the floor, a large burgundy Persian rug with intricate gold and turquoise details. Anyone would have thought they were in a witch's cave. You laughed at that thought. But in truth, maybe they were right. Could alchemy be considered magic, or was it just science? You'd heard of many alchemist witches, more in stories than in real life.

If that was the case, you were more than happy to be a witch—a good one, that is. One who found gratification in helping others and experimenting with glittery liquids and powders, just for fun. That's what you were doing when the metallic sound of the angel caller caught your attention. You straightened up and looked at the door. A man with wavy brown hair wearing a blue sweatshirt and camel-colored corduroy pants walked through.

He first looked around in admiration, as if he were in an aquarium. That reaction was very common; every customer did the same thing, and you liked it. Then he settled his gaze on you, noticing your presence. He approached hesitantly, his hands in his pockets. He seemed shy, but he smiled politely and in a friendly way.

"Hello! Welcome to the house of the lady in red. What can I do for you?" you said kindly with your best smile

The man looked at you confused and before he could say anything, you sensed his question "The lady in red is a character in alchemy and has to do with tarot too" you clarified and winked at him knowingly

He let out an exclamation of understanding as he nodded several times, still smiling, then looked down at the counter, searching for something. "Well, I was looking for incense, if you have any..."

"Of course! They're right here." You then headed to a small counter with several shelves one under the other where boxes full of incense could be seen at first glance. The brown-haired man followed you and stared, mesmerized, unable to decide.

You decided to help him. "Were you looking for something in particular? I have mint, vanilla, coconut, myrrh. Which do you prefer?"

He just shrugged, giving a low, nervous laugh. "I don't really know much about these things. I don't know, whichever smells the best?"

You smiled at his lost attitude, it was sweet "Okay, let's do this, I'll give you some samples to smell and you decide which one you like best, does that sound okay?"

The man seemed relieved and smiled gratefully at your suggestion, agreeing. You handed him the incense sticks one by one, and with each sample, he gently held them to his nose and inhaled deeply with his eyes closed, letting the scent penetrate his subconscious and enjoying the soft notes of the fragrance. Finally, a little dizzy from smelling so many incense sticks, he decided on a six-pack: two mint, two jasmine, and two orange.

"Excellent choice"

You took the scented sticks and placed them in a brown paper bag with a small card inside. You sealed the bag tightly while he watched your hands working quickly but gently. With a smile, you handed him the bag.

"Do you have a stand to put the incense sticks on?" you asked suddenly.

He was perplexed by the simple but sudden question. "Uh, to be honest, no" he replied embarrassed.

"Oh, don't worry, there's a solution for that. I also sell the stands, but since it's your first purchase, you'll get it as a gift. Consider it a courtesy."

The man with dark blue eyes smiled pleased "Thank you very much, that's very kind of you."

You waved your hand as if shooing away a fly, dismissing it as unimportant. He took his wallet out of his pants and paid. You wished him a good day, and he said goodbye as he left the store. You watched him walk past the glass window to the right until he left your field of vision. That man had left a lovely feeling in your body, similar to the warmth radiated by the energy crystals in your store, only this energy knew how to speak, and he had silkier hair and softer, bluer eyes. You sincerely hoped you'd made a good impression on him and wanted to see him more often.

Bob, for his part, walked down the street, clutching the paper bag still imbued with your scent. He felt a little dizzy, and not exactly from the effects of having smelled so many incense sticks—no, that feeling had passed. But what you had caused in him, not. Your smile and your kindness had left him stunned. He'd met many people in his life, but hardly any as polite and kind as you, especially to a stranger like him.

When he arrived at the tower by the elevator that stopped at the top floor his friends were already waiting for him there, gathered, watching a large screen that showed outer space.

"Zoom in progressively to the top left corner," Yelena ordered an artificial intelligence.

On the screen you could see a supernova but not much else.

"Okay, it seems there is no news" bucky said

At that moment Bob walked closer to them, he was so quiet that almost no one noticed his presence, it wasn't until Alexei greeted him shouting "Hey! Bob, man! What do you have there? Lunch?"

Yelena and Bucky turned to look at him and now all eyes were on him, Bob felt a little self-conscious and gulped "Uhm no, no. It's just a couple of incense sticks, I thought it would be a good idea to make the tower smell nice"

Everyone looked at him in amazement and Yelena made an indifferent face "Fine, as long as you don't choke us with the smoke"

"Oh, don't worry, I'll put one in my room to start with."

And with that, he headed to his room while the others continued with their tasks. Suddenly, Alexei became thoughtful.

"Wait, he didn't mean me, did he? I know I sometimes clog the toilet, but..."

Ava looked at him with the best disgusted face she could muster.

- - - - - - - - - - -

In his room, Bob grabbed a lighter and lit the orange incense, placing it in the holder you had given him. Immediately, the entire room was filled with a pleasant, sweet, citrusy scent. Bob closed his eyes and let the perfume fill his lungs, smiling contentedly. The smell reminded him of summer afternoons, fruit salads, and fields. He could almost taste the orange on his palate. In a good mood, he began to take out the other incense sticks to organize and store them when his fingers touched something at the bottom of the paper bag. When he took it out, he realized it was the card you had put inside. It read the name of your store, adorned with drawings of laurels entangled with roses, and underneath, a dedication.

《Thank you for shopping at "The House of the Lady in Red" Please come back soon, I love having you here!》

XOXO

Bob read and reread the card several times. He told himself that the card and those words on it were simply a form of good manners and part of your work ethic, and that you gave them to each of your clients. But for some reason, they felt personal to him, as if you had dedicated them specifically to him and no one else.

The blue-eyed brown-haired man took this as an invitation to return to your shop with the excuse of buying more incense or something else. Although he would soon run out of excuses, he didn't care; as long as he saw you again, he would invent anything.

The days passed, and Bob always excused himself from the tower to go buy more incense (even though he still had plenty). The group complained every time he went out.

"You ran out so fast? You just bought a dozen two days ago!" John yelled

"Yeah, and the smoke's starting to make my eyes sting and I cough!" Said Ava

"And I think I developed a mild allergy to the smell of roses" Bucky sneezed.

Each teammate said something against Bob's purchases, but he ignored them and headed out to your shop. You were already sorting through some crystals and replacing pendulums, secretly longing to see that handsome man from the other day again. So far, only an old woman with a noisy poodle and some curious teenagers had appeared through that door, but there was no sign of the brown-haired man.

Suddenly, out of your peripheral vision, you saw him approaching through the window, his eyes on his shoes. In your impatience, you almost dropped a tiger's eye crystal, which you caught before it hit the floor. As he entered, this time, his gaze fell directly on you, and his smile widened. You immediately felt your heart flutter, unable to stop it.

"Good morning, how nice to have you back here" you said without thinking

Her face flinched slightly with a pink blush and you realized that what you said might have sounded too kind, you bit your tongue and quickly added "What are you going to buy today?" you said still smiling

"Incense, again" he laughed.

Oh, what a sweet laugh! It could have made a baby smile. You nodded and headed to the sideboard, and he followed you like last time, even though it wasn't necessary since he already knew where things were. Lately, he discovered he loved being around you.

"Can I recommend a new one today?" you asked politely.

He nodded vigorously. "Yes, please."

You returned to the counter and pulled a large box of new incense out of a drawer. You thrust three into his hand. "These just arrived today; they're lemon, sandalwood, and linden. The last two are very good for clearing bad energies."

You waited patiently for him to finish smelling them and then with a shy smile on the side, he replied, "Then I'll take those, I trust you."

You smiled, pleased with his confidence in you. You put everything back in the same brown paper bag as before, and when you placed the card inside, he pointed at it. "I really like the card.."

"Really? Thanks! It's handmade!" you said with enthusiasm and joy since no one had noticed until now.

"Oh then you have very nice handwriting" he said slowly

You blushed slightly, looking down and smiling as you shrugged and thanked him. Bob thought it was cute that he was able to make you blush for the first time and how your cheeks looked like apples. You said goodbye, and both of you spent the afternoon thinking about each other.

The days passed, and his visits became more frequent, so much so that you already knew what he was going to buy and always asked, "The same as always?" Although sometimes you recommended buying something else, not because you wanted to get more money from him, but because you both realized that the excuse of visiting you to buy more incense no longer held water.

Even those in the tower were starting to get suspicious. It was unusual for Bob to go out so much, since he'd often made it clear he preferred to stay inside. So that only meant one thing: he'd met someone.

"Who is it? Come on tell me!, who is it?"

Suddenly, Bob's private life became a topic of conversation in the tower, and every time they asked him about it, he covered his ears in shock and went to his room, huffing and puffing in irritation. Bob didn't want to talk to them about you; he'd only earn the others' ridicule, and even if it wasn't with bad intentions, he knew they wouldn't leave him alone for a few weeks. When he lay down on his bed, exhausted, the memory of when he dared to ask you your name crossed his mind. He felt it like a great achievement, a step forward.

He fiddled with his fingers more nervously than usual as he watched you put a deck of tarot cards in your bag. Bob didn't know what to buy anymore to keep seeing you, so he had the stupid idea of ​​​​hesitantly choosing a deck of tarot cards. What did he need them for? He had no idea how to use them, he had been a fool. But you patiently and lovingly taught him everything he needed to know.

"They're a form of divination; you simply shuffle the deck, ask a question, and pick a card. Depending on what comes up, you'll interpret it based on your question. The deck comes with instructions, though."

He nodded, trying to pay attention to your explanation, but you noticed his gaze was lost. When he was about to leave he swallowed and scratched his forehead, closing his eyes. "Hey, sorry to ask, but what's your name?"

You definitely weren't expecting that question but it didn't surprise you "Y/n, and yours?"

"Bob, I mean Robert, but you can call me Bob!"

You smiled "Alright, see you Bob"

Bob thought that day that your name was as beautiful as your person and that it suited you perfectly. Meanwhile, you were in the back of your shop, which served as an alchemy workshop. On the large table were funnels, thin, elongated flasks, and a small black cauldron where a fuchsia liquid was boiling. Fat bubbles slowly and thickly broke on the surface. You stood up, taking a grimoire-like recipe book from your library. There you had written down a bunch of potions you had successfully experimented with, along with their respective ingredients.

Potions to cure the flu, potions that make you always tell the truth, etc. Everything was written down there. But today you decided to create something new. You still didn't know what it would be or what it would be for, but it was all trial and error. You took a pair of tweezers and grabbed crushed bay leaves from a jar and added them to the cauldron. You did the same with four drops of seawater, a spoonful of honey, and other ingredients. But every now and then your mind wandered to memories of Bob's visits to your shop, or his face floated into your consciousness. Distracted by these thoughts, you accidentally spilled a small bottle of rosewater. You gasped and uttered a small curse under your breath. Well, you were experimenting anyway; you just hoped it wouldn't upset the mixture too much. Suddenly, the liquid began to change color, from pink to fiery red and then to a bluish violet. It looked like a kaleidoscope of colors. You leaned closer to take a closer look, and when you did, a small explosion erupted from inside, filling everything with white, glittery smoke. How strange.

Now the air had a woody smell, a mixture of musk and honey. You hoped you wouldn't have an allergic reaction or any symptoms from inhaling that smoke. You added the new potion to a small, square bottle with an eyedropper and examined it closely. It was a bright violet, and when you shook it, golden and pink sparkles swirled around slowly and ethereally, resembling a galaxy.

"Okay, now have to test it."

You put a cork in the bottle's cap and slipped it into your jacket pocket. You didn't label it because you didn't yet know what it would be used for; you were thinking about who to use the potion for. You couldn't drink it because if it caused any untoward side effects, you might not be able to remedy them immediately. For example, if your hands developed blisters, you wouldn't be able to handle the most delicate alchemical objects. And if you developed three tails? How would you serve customers like that? No, it's better not to even think about it.

What if... maybe? No, no, too risky, you'd never forgive yourself for it. But... you had to try it on someone, and who better than Bob? Of course you couldn't tell him, you'd have to make up any excuse, anyway the effects were never that serious, nothing you couldn't solve.

So the next day it was no surprise when you saw Bob with his big smile and his eyes fixed on you when he passed through that door, you were already expecting him.

"Hi!" He said timidly

"Hi" you replied smiling

"I think you know what I'm buying today," he laughed softly.

You laughed, but you felt nervous. You had the little bottle of potion in your pocket, and your fingers nervously brushed the cold packaging. You bit your lip, considering what you were going to say.

"Listen uh, I was thinking about selling new products in the store, and I've been experimenting with concoctions. Nothing too complicated..."

You noticed Bob looking at you confused so you hurried to take the bottle out of your pocket "Look, it's for drinking, it's like a detox, it's good for the kidneys" you lied a little blushing

He took the little bottle and examined it carefully. "What a beautiful color!" he exclaimed, dazzled, seeing the small galaxy inside the liquid.

"It's edible food coloring and glitter." You felt bad lying so blatantly, especially to someone as good as Bob, but in this case the truth would be worse.

He was about to put it away to drink later when you stopped him a little abruptly. "Would you mind drinking it now? It's a new product and I want to know what it tastes like since I haven't been able to drink it myself yet."

"Sure" he shrugged

He uncapped the bottle and drank it in one gulp. At first, he wrinkled his nose and pursed his lips slightly. "It's a little sour."

You wanted the earth to swallow you up as you grimaced at his annoyed expression, but then his features softened and a small, sideways smile formed on his mouth until it widened. "Oh now it's sweet, very sweet! And I feel a tickle behind the roof of my mouth," he giggled.

You sighed in relief and smiled. Bob wanted to give you back the bottle, but you insisted he keep it and also assured him that you didn't need to pay him anything.

"And Bob.. you no longer need to keep coming to buy incense, you can simply visit me whenever you want for no reason or just to talk to me about your day" you said with surprising affection and gentleness

The brown-haired man looked at you in astonishment but then his eyes softened.

"Besides, I dare say you have a room full of them." You laughed

He imitated you, "Good thing you said that, my friends were already starting to hate me."

Laughter filled the place and then Bob (this time without buying anything) said goodbye to you. He was walking calmly through the streets when, unintentionally, the image of your face stuck in his mind. It was nothing new, but the closer he got to the Watchtower, the harder it was to stop thinking about you. His thoughts were more intense than usual; he began to remember small details, like the way your eyes shone when the sun hit them, how the corner of your lips slowly curved upwards in a smile, the way your fingers moved, sliding on the surface of the counter, and your nails scratching the wood.

When Bob entered the main room he looked so stunned that the others thought something bad had happened to him.

"Bob are you ok?" Bucky said a bit scared and worried

He just nodded, unable to meet anyone's gaze.

"And what happened to the incense this time?" Ava asked.

"Uhh.. they ran out of stock" and after saying this Bob fled to his room before the perplexed gaze of everyone

The brown-haired man abruptly closed the door behind him and leaned back against the wood, sliding slowly until he fell into a sitting position. He looked slightly agitated, as if he had run a marathon, and his face was flushed. A hellish heat rose up his neck, and his stomach felt tickly like the fluttering of hundreds of butterflies. What was wrong with him? Frightened, he put his hand to his forehead, thinking he had a fever, but no, he was fine; at least he wasn't sick. But something was wrong with him. Had he eaten something bad? He wasn't sure.

But despite those annoying symptoms, deep down, he felt a great joy every time he thought of you, as if he were capable of doing anything. Your face invaded his mind again, and suddenly he began to laugh with happiness. At first, it was a soft, airy chuckle, and little by little, it grew into a real belly laugh of joy. Bob couldn't stop, but after a minute, he stopped and became serious again. Something was definitely not right with him.

The following days were an epic journey in the tower and in the lives of everyone around Bob (including himself). He seemed more distracted than usual; whenever someone spoke to him, he would focus his gaze on a fixed point, lost in thought, paying no attention to anything else. Occasionally, in this state, he would let a shy smile appear on the side, and it wasn't until someone snapped their fingers in front of him that Bob would come out of his trance and ask what had happened. But his attention lasted only a few seconds because his gaze would once again wander off into some point on the horizon.

Sometimes he was seen wandering the halls like a zombie, with an erratic and gloomy gait. Other times he sighed so deeply it seemed as if he wanted to test whether he could blow objects away. The other members of the team believed the void wanted to come out again and that Bob was having a bad time again, but nothing could be further from the truth. Bob felt like he was on cloud nine, but he had a strange way of showing it.

"Hey man, are you alright?" Walker asked, genuinely concerned.

Bob shook his head and looked at him as if he was seeing him for the first time, not quite understanding the question "Yes, why?"

But it didn't end there. His visits to your shop became more frequent, and the blue-eyed man was becoming increasingly affectionate with you. His eye contact was prolonged, the touch of his hand against yours was more brazen, and the compliments poured from his tongue like a torrent. You only thought he was beginning to feel comfortable, and in part because you let him know he could come see you as often as he wanted. But when Bob arrived back at the tower, it was a different story. He talked about you all day long, which was strange since he'd never been that talkative.

"She's very kind and has very beautiful hair, she also smells very nice. And her skin looks so soft..." he said, sighing with love.

The others couldn't help but look at him suspiciously, the only one laughing was Alexei clearly understanding what was happening

"Oh come on guys! Our Bob is clearly in love, in fact he's over heels"

"We've never seen him like this before" Bucky said, crossing his arms.

"Well to be fair we never saw him in love" Ava said

Yelena shook her head, agreeing with Bucky: something was strange with Bob. And they all agreed that from that day on, they would keep a close eye on him. And so it was. Every time they were near him, they asked him specific questions about this person, and he would start talking nonstop while Yelena wrote down all the strange symptoms in a notebook. They even noticed that Bob's body was getting slightly warm, as if he had a fever. Alexei noticed this one day when he touched Bob's arm and noticed it was hot.

"Okay, enough, I think we have enough evidence to suspect that Bob is not well," Yelena said sharply.

"Do you think so? I still think he's just yearning for this unknown person.." Walker said, shrugging

"Oh really? And how do you explain the sudden fever in his body? And how sometimes he breathes fast as if he's been running, huh?

To calm the waters and avoid an argument, Bucky raised his voice. "Even if Yelena has a point, we still need more conclusive evidence. While I also believe Bob has something, what we have isn't much."

The blonde huffed, putting her hands on her hips. She hated to admit it, but he was right. What other proof could they get? They sat there mulling over a plan for several minutes when suddenly, Yelena's eagle-eyed gaze noticed a small object on the ground.

"Wait, what is that?" she said pointing at something

The Russian woman trotted behind the sofa and picked something up from the floor. As she held it up for a closer look, everyone noticed it was a glass jar with a cork, no bigger than the palm of her hand and slightly square in shape. She joined the others to look at the object more closely. They all inspected it critically. She uncorked the jar, and even though it was empty, a strong smell of various spices filled everyone's nose. It was so strong that everyone closed their eyes and wrinkled their noses.

"Geez, it smells as strong as Bob's damn incense sticks" Bucky said, covering his already tickly nose.

Click. Now Yelena understood. Bob had started acting strange after returning from the store that time, and that time without buying anything. She shared her theory, and everyone agreed.

"This was the proof we were missing, we have to analyze the bottle" Ava said.

Upon reaching the room, they placed the corked vial into a small, round machine and closed the lid. There were still a few drops of contents inside, which needles began to suck out, while data and files began to load on a screen nearby. The ingredients were displayed before them: honey, rose water, etc. Nothing out of the ordinary. But when they finished loading the data and the machine described the liquid, everyone gasped.

《LOVE POTION》

The only one who laughed amusedly was Alexei, again. "I knew it! Someone has Bob wrapped around their finger. Ha ha!"

Everyone looked at him angrily and he shrugged. Yelena rolled her eyes.

"Can you be serious for once? This is bad, dad."

"Why? Isn't it good that Bob found love? he asked, genuinely confused.

"But not like this! Love can't be forced, Alexei..." Bucky said

"What we have to do now is locate that person and settle a couple of scores" John said threateningly.

They started searching the internet for all the esoteric shops in the area, which in fact weren't many. Two of them had closed permanently, leaving only one left, a couple of blocks away from the building. They all got into Yelena's father's limo and headed there. They were trying to discuss a logical plan.

"We can't all rush in like the army, okay? We'll just scare her off"

"I wouldn't mind doing it, she messed with Bob, now she'll mess with us."

"Maybe she didn't mean any harm!"

Discussion follows discussion, they arrived at the store. It had a sign that said open. The facade was pretty, a large red and white striped awning covered the entrance where various vines and creepers hung.

"It looks like a grandmother's house," Ava said with disgust.

Yelena turned to see her group. "Alright, I'll go in first, okay? And if things get ugly, I'll signal you from inside to come in."

"Wait, wait, why do you have to come in?" Walker complained.

"Uh maybe because I'm the leader, duh?"

"Oh yeah? And who decided that?" Ava confronted her.

"It was literally Valentina, come on Ava don't start now.."

And before anyone else could say anything, Yelena quickly entered the store, leaving the others to grumble. Upon entering, the blonde expected to see someone standing there with a shy or unfriendly expression, but she was surprised to see your sweet face crowned with a friendly smile. The blonde began to doubt whether it was you who had really put Bob under that spell. She approached the counter slowly, looking around with feigned curiosity.

"Good morning and welcome to the house of the lady in red, how can I help you today?"

Yelena thought your kindness was over-rehearsed and felt a little nauseous at how polite you were. She was about to open her mouth, but suddenly the door swung open violently, and John, Bucky, Alexei, and Ava burst into the store, arguing, of course.

"I told you we had to wait for her signal!!"

"I don't give a fuck, I wasn't going to wait out there for two hours!"

Yelena closed her eyes and sighed "сукины дети" (motherfuckers)

You jumped slightly, feeling uncomfortable with so many eyes on you. The shortest of the group turned to the others and raised her hand in a signal to stop, then turned to you. "Listen, we're looking for the owner of this. Do you have any ideas?" she said, taking out the empty vial.

Your smile faded as you stared at the bottle, your face paled, and your features turned deadly serious. Had something bad happened to Bob? You prayed it hadn't. Everyone was waiting for your answer, analyzing your movements. You swallowed nervously. "N-no, I don't know who it belongs to, why?"

You wanted to sound confident, but your nerves betrayed you, and your voice came out choked and shaky. The group looked at each other, and you felt nauseous; you felt like a prisoner about to be shot.

"You're not good at lying, you know? It'll be better for everyone if you tell us the truth." said the man with the metal arm

You paused for a moment, staring at him, and then you realized. You looked at each of them. They were the New Avengers! Of course, how could you have missed it before? But wait, Bob's friends were the New Avengers!? Okay, now you were in serious trouble.

"Wait I know you.. yo are the New Avengers!"

"Don't try to change the subject, tell us where you got this and what you did with Bob or else-!"

"Walker!"

The US agent's words were interrupted by Bucky's bark, which he reluctantly restrained himself from. You looked at everyone in fear; you definitely didn't like that John Walker. Yelenante looked at you, trying to calm things down. "Just tell us everything you know. We promise there won't be any consequences for you. We just want to help Bob."

"Is-is he alright?" You asked worried

"Not really, he's always sighing and talking about you, he says he feels like he's on cloud nine when you look at him," said the brown-haired girl known as Ghost.

Yelena continued. "We analyzed the sample from the bottle and concluded it's a love potion." Her words hit you like a bucket of cold water. What had you done?

The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place, which was why Bob was more affectionate than usual. You covered your mouth, completely horrified. Yelena asked, "Do you have any experience with magic or potions?"

You nodded slowly "Yeah... well I don't consider myself a witch.. I just like working with alchemy, you know, mixing chemicals and stuff" Then as if you had hit the wall of reality you covered your face and said anguished "Oh my God I'm so sorry!! I swear I didn't mean for any of this to happen! I didn't mean to cause any trouble and especially not for Bob!!"

"I don't believe her" John whispered, earning an elbow from Ava.

Alexei took pity on you. "Hey kid, it's okay! Just help us solve this."

"I promise to investigate and do everything possible to reverse this" you nodded vigorously

Everyone was satisfied and left through the door, except for Yelena who placed a hand on yours and said in a low voice "Hey, I really think you're a good person, and Bob thinks so too, please don't lose him."

When she left, you pondered her words. Were you really important to Bob? But it was only because of that stupid potion, right? When it was time to close your shop, you ran to your workshop and desperately searched your entire library for books on love potions, but you found nothing. You had to turn to the internet and an alchemy and witches forum. You searched: love potions, symptoms, and cure. To your horror, you discovered that the ingredients were the same ones you'd used, and rosewater was the most important and key.

Rose water? Something clicked in your mind. Yes, you remembered that time, when you accidentally dropped that bottle because you were thinking about Bob. You quickly read the description of this ingredient.

《Since ancient times, the rose has been considered a symbol of beauty and love. Many legends and stories point to the rose as a symbol of eternal love》.

"Oh come on! Damn it!"

You quickly searched for the cure for this disaster, but as you continued reading, your mood didn't improve. The cure for a love potion was...a kiss of love, of course. A kiss of true love.

"You're fucking kidding me..."

You clutched your head in despair, regretting the day you'd ever wanted to learn alchemy. You swore under your breath, wishing you could disappear. Yeah, maybe that was for the best; you'd move far away, close your shop as if you'd never existed. But you couldn't do that. How stupid was that? It would only make things worse. You sat there, defeated, feeling the weight of the world on your body. How the hell would you explain this to Bob?

. . . . . .

Meanwhile, in the tower, the group exited the elevator, pensive. Bob was already in the lobby. "Where the hell were you? I've been waiting for you all day!"

"Settling scores with someone"

Bucky glared at John, "You don't know when to shut up, do you?"

"what did he mean?"

"Nothing, Bob. Just a last-minute mission"

Bob looked at Yelena frowning "I know when you're lying, tell me the truth"

Everyone sighed and Bucky took charge of explaining everything, Bob looked at him perplexed and a little annoyed "Have you gone crazy? You went to harass someone just because of that?!"

"Didn't you hear what we said? She put a spell on you! Besides, it wasn't harassment.."

Bob raised his hands to the heavens, gathering patience so as not to lose his temper. "I'm a grown man now, I don't need to be babysat! And I didn't need you to butt into my business!"

"Hey, we just wanted to make sure you were okay. We're worried about you."

"Well, you see. I'm perfectly fine."

Bob stormed off to his room, slamming the door shut, leaving his friends alone in the living room in an awkward silence. Inside, Bob threw himself onto his bed, grumbling. Love potion, ha! Yeah, right. He didn't want to even imagine such nonsense; he didn't believe you were capable of doing something like that to him. But doubts began to creep in. What if they were right? What if all those symptoms and ailments really weren't due to an illness, but to your potion? Just thinking about it made Bob feel betrayed and hurt. But he knew perfectly well that you didn't have any bad intentions, and even though his friends had made it clear to him, he'd already sensed it beforehand.

The next day, Bob wanted to clear up that stupid matter once and for all. With a confidence he'd never seen before, he walked into your store. He tried to remain firm and imperturbable, but as soon as he saw you, it was as if his body had dissolved into jelly. His serious expression softened, and his tense body relaxed with a sigh. Despite your smile (this time sadder than usual), he noticed your nervousness. Bob approached you hesitantly. The two of you stood there staring at each other, looking like shy, hormonal teenagers about to confess.

"Uh hello again..." you said awkwardly, avoiding his eyes.

He didn't quite understand why, and suspicions began to swirl inside him. Before he could speak, she blurted out, "I think I know why you're here, and I'm glad you do because I have something to tell you..."

He just looked at her, listening intently with his heart in his hand. "Remember that bottle I gave you a few weeks ago, that was supposedly a detox? Well... I lied." You bit your lip, embarrassed. "You see, I like experimenting with potions. I think you've noticed that my shop is heavily related to alchemy. I was creating a potion recently, but at first, I didn't know what it was for! It was when I gave it to you to try, and well, you know the rest... I'm sorry, it was a love potion. But I swear I didn't know that until yesterday!"

Your face was red with embarrassment and Bob noticed the regret in your voice. Despite all of that, he couldn't get mad at you. On the contrary, he still thought your blushing face was cute. "They visited you yesterday, didn't they?" he simply asked, referring to the New Avengers.

You nodded slowly "But that's not the worst of it... I've checked the cure for this potion, luckily there is one but..." you stopped, you didn't want to tell him

"But..?" He invited you to continue, moving a little closer to the counter, resting his hands on the wood.

"It's just... ugh. The cure is... a kiss of love," you said in such a low voice that you thought he hadn't heard you, but he did.

And now he looked at you, perplexed, now he was the one blushing. You covered your eyes and quickly said, "This is crazy, I know, right? I'm sorry, I know this is awkward. I promise to find another solution!"

He shook his head a few times and touched your arm. You flinched. "No, no, it's okay." Bob cleared his throat nervously. "I mean, if there's no other option... it's not a problem."

Now Bob didn't dare look at you because if he did, he'd start sweating and his blushing would increase. You pushed away from the counter and stood in front of him, noticing he was taller than you. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

He nodded vigorously and dared to look at you, his eyes glassy. Your lower lip trembled slightly, and you stared at your hands, unsure of what to do. "C-could you close your eyes... please?"

He did so and took a deep breath. You stared at him for a few seconds. He was standing there in front of you, his face so far away yet so close at the same time, all it took was a movement to close the gap. You stood on your toes and placed your hands on his shoulders. He trembled slightly at your touch. Your eyes stayed fixed on his lips, hesitating. You looked back at his eyes, making sure they were closed, and slid your gaze back to his closed mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut as if you were about to be hit, and gently placed your lips on his. Bob almost opened his eyes in surprise, but he simply raised his eyebrows and held back a moan. At first, it was a light touch that you didn't intend to prolong, but the longer you remained like that, the more you realized how warm and comforting the sensation was. His soft lips parted slightly, giving you room to deepen the kiss. Their faces relaxed, as did their bodies, and Bob placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. Neither of them sped up their pace; it was a kiss as tender and sweet as morning dew that it wasn't intend anything else, nothing lascivious, just pure love.

You broke the magic and moved only a few inches away, your gaze on his lips. When you looked up, he was already looking into your eyes, smiling. You didn't want to part; you could stay in his arms forever.

"Well, it wasn't bad," you said, laughing shyly. "Are you feeling better?"

Bob's eyes expressed a genuine love, never seen before "I've never been better"

You looked at him, smiling a little confused. "You know, I don't think the potion had that much of an effect on me. I mean, I did feel a little different, but I think I always felt the same way about you. And it all started the moment I met you."

Your breath caught in your throat. "You mean..."

"Yes, I didn't want to admit it, but the more I denied it, the stronger it became. I think the potion only intensified what was already there."

You wanted to be pinched, but if it was a dream, you didn't want to wake up because it was too beautiful to be true. You didn't know how long you stood there staring at him in shock, saying nothing. Bob laughed softly.

"Don't worry, you don't have to say anything. I understand if it's not reciprocated, it's just that..-"

You shook your head vigorously, as if trying to get those misconceptions out of his head, and you kissed him again, interrupting him, this time more intensely. With your hands on his neck, Bob kissed you back, hugging your back, and you smiled against his lips.

From that day on you understood that there is no greater magic than true love, because it is capable of breaking invisible barriers and uniting two hearts into one.

Okay, this was really fun to write 🤭, and I'm sorry if it was really long, my hand started writing by itself. Lmao

[quillsandcravats]

Middle of the Night | Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader | Ch. 1: My House of Stone

Summary: The year is 2025. When you move into Bridgerton House as its new curator, you don’t expect to fall in love with Benedict—a charming, enigmatic artist who seems to belong to another time. But as your connection deepens, the house begins to whisper its secrets, and you uncover a devastating truth: Benedict died over two centuries ago. Bound to the estate by betrayal and an unfinished life, he is forever thirty, a love you can touch but never truly hold. And when the past finally catches up with him, you must face an impossible choice. Pairing(s): Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Rating: M Warnings: modern!AU, paranormal!AU, ghosts, hauntings, major character death, paranormal romance, angst, whump, descriptions of violence, death/dying, grief, trauma Crosspost: AO3, do not repost my fics anywhere! A/N: Here is Chapter 1 of a fic I cannot stop thinking about. I haven't felt this passionate about writing a multi-chapter fic in years. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my beta @monaskydancer <3 SERIES MASTERLIST

“This is Bridgerton House.”

The taxi driver's loud voice snapped you out of your half-asleep daze in the backseat. You jolted upright, your mind still groggy and fuzzy, and ran a hand through your messy hair, attempting to tame it back into place.

"Thanks," you mumbled, rifling through your purse for a tip. You handed it over through the center console and quickly pushed open the door.

When you stepped outside, your gaze immediately fixated on the imposing and elegant structure towering before you. The red brick walls were lovingly adorned with wisteria vines, exactly as they appeared in the photographs. It was clear that the Bridgerton Foundation had poured their heart into nurturing those vines, letting them thrive and blossom year after year. Nearby, a plaque adorned with a delicate bee and an ornate, swirling 'B' was affixed to a metal stand beside the green door, its weathered paint peeling and chipping away.

As you lifted your eyes to the towering structure, a flicker at the edge of your sight snagged your attention. It seemed as though a pair of eyes were fixed upon you from one of the distant windows. But, as you inhaled sharply and tried to focus, they disappeared.

‘Seriously? Calm down, y/n. It was a trick of the light, or maybe a curtain that caught a breeze. Think rationally - you cannot walk into this house paranoid,’ Your inner monologue rambled on.

The cab driver placed your bags beside you, drawing you back to reality, and carefully lowered the cat carrier next to them. The bulk of your belongings had already been shipped from your old apartment —a modest collection, since your new place came furnished. The idea of settling in seemed doable; as long as you had your smartphone, your espresso machine, and Mr. Darcy, you figured everything would be just fine.

Just then Claire Watts, the CEO of the Bridgerton Foundation stepped out of the front door. As a proud descendant of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, her gait seemed to echo the legacy of her esteemed lineage. She wore a tailored camel coat that highlighted her slim figure, with a fitted turtleneck underneath and a chic black pencil skirt. A sparkling, jewel-encrusted bee-shaped brooch added a touch of flair to her outfit. Every detail of her look was perfect, with nothing out of place.

You suddenly cringed at your clothing choices, wishing you could magically switch out of your sweatshirt, leggings, and Crocs like Cinderella prepping for the ball. Luckily, you had remembered to refresh your deodorant after touching down at Heathrow.

She sauntered down the sidewalk towards you. "Y/n! Welcome! It's so great to meet you face-to-face finally," she said, reaching out for a handshake.

You grinned, "It's good to meet you, too. I'm super excited to check out the house in person, and to be here, of course.”

Claire smiled softly, her eyes drifting to the pile of your luggage at her feet. "There's no elevator in Bridgerton House, I'm afraid," she said, a hint of apology in her voice.

"Oh no, that's okay!" You chuckled, adjusting the strap of your shoulder bag. You reached down and picked up Mr. Darcy's carrier and hoisted one of your suitcases. "I'll just have to make a few trips, I guess."

Claire shook her head, her expression turning determined. "Oh, no, that's okay. I'll help you."

"And here are your quarters," Claire announced, her hand firmly pressing against the door, which creaked in complaint as it swung open. The wooden door unveiled a medium-sized room, bathed in the glow of the afternoon sun filtering through large windows. A queen-sized bed stood proudly in the center, its quilt neatly folded at the foot. Against one wall there was a polished dark oak desk paired with a matching dresser.

"You'll have full access to the bathroom down the hall," Clare continued, motioning towards the hallway. "It's fitted with a claw-foot tub, but be warned—the plumbing has a mind of its own and is overdue for another update." She hesitated before adding, "And you have a kitchen available, though it's situated on the opposite side of this wing."

"That’s all perfect. Thank you again for the tour.”

As you spoke, your nose suddenly tingled with an unexpected scent. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, but it was reminiscent of aged leather, smoky and musty, like the inside of an old library. Confusion washed over you as the aroma shifted, morphing into the rich, earthy scent of tobacco, then transforming once more into the sharp, pungent tang of turpentine. You coughed lightly, your eyes watering as they tried to adjust to the sudden assault. It dawned on you that the paint on the walls might be quite aged, which could explain the turpentine.

"Oh, the smells," Claire offered you a knowing smile. "People complain of these smells that come and go. They’re harmless; the team and I think it is because of the ventilation system we’ve been trying to get set up," she explained.

You nodded, attempting to buy her words. "Right, right," you chuckled, stepping into your room.

‘Weird smells and messed-up electricity. It’s giving ‘Amityville Horror’, you thought as you chewed your bottom lip nervously.

"Well, it’s getting quite late," Claire mentioned, glancing at her Apple Watch. She sighed as a text message illuminated the small screen. "And I’ve got to take my daughter to her ballet class, and I have pilates during that, so…" Her voice trailed off.

"Of course, of course, go right ahead," you encouraged. "I’ll try to get the WiFi set up."

Claire nodded a hint of relief in her eyes. "Good luck. The electricity can be a bit unpredictable in here. Every time we try to set up the Internet, it goes haywire. We can’t figure it out. Maybe you can help us with that?" Her words lingered in the air as she typed out a message on her phone before dropping it into her large designer bag.

"Yeah! Totally," you replied with a bright smile, watching as Claire waved and turned to walk down the hallway. Her heels clicked against the floor, creating an echo that lingered even after she disappeared from view. Mr. Darcy meowed softly at your feet, weaving himself in graceful figure-eights around your legs. "Okay. Okay, I know, you need to eat," you said with a sigh.

Later that night, you laid curled up in bed with your dog-eared copy of Little Women nestled in your hands. The cover was faded and the spine was cracked, evidence of how many times you had read it. You had propped up your pillows just right, forming a cozy nest, and were snuggled under a pile of mismatched blankets. You never tired of following the March sisters' lives. You could probably recite entire passages from memory by now. With all the change swirling around you, having something so familiar and comforting felt needed.

Mr. Darcy was on your lap, his rhythmic purring vibrating through the fabric of your pajamas. Suddenly, a loud crash shattered the tranquility, as if someone had dropped a stack of plates in the kitchen. You jolted, sending your cat scrambling off your legs with a yowl. His fur bristled, but you had no energy to acknowledge him as your heart raced.

"Hello?" you called out. You got to your feet, hesitantly inching toward the door. You debated whether or not to grab your bedside lamp as a weapon. You chose your phone instead, flicking on the flashlight feature as you headed into the hallway.

Mr. Darcy darted under the bed. It was unlike him to be easily spooked, but you figured he was still adjusting to the new environment. You walked slowly down the hall, bypassing multiple sets of doors. In some ways, the house felt like a labyrinth.

You heard the floors creaking around you, the noise echoing ominously from the last room on the right. "Screw this," you muttered under your breath, shuffling forward hesitantly toward the door. Gathering some courage, you pushed it open, your hand frantically flipping on the light switch next to the wall, ready to confront an intruder. Instead, the room was empty, except for a window slightly ajar, letting in the soft night breeze.

"Of course, it was just the wind," you said out loud, relief evident in your voice as you switched off your phone flashlight.

As your eyes got used to the room's lighting, a feeling of awe hit you. The walls were adorned with incredible portraits. Faces from history gazed back at you, their tales woven through time, stretching over generations. You moved in for a closer look, feeling the coolness of the hardwood under your bare feet. You glanced up, absorbing the intricate details of each portrait. First, you focused on the portrait of a young brunette couple. You observed they were surrounded by seven children, not eight.

As the memory of the Bridgerton family history unfurled in your mind, you quickly connected the dots: the distinguished gentleman with the poised demeanor must be Viscount Edmund Bridgerton, and by his side, the graceful presence of Viscountess Violet Bridgerton. Edmund had passed away before their youngest, Hyacinth, was born, indicating this portrait was likely painted about two years prior. The cherubic infant in the painting was unmistakably Gregory, the family's second youngest.

Strolling through the gallery, your eyes danced over the various portraits lining the walls until one captured your attention. It depicted a young man exuding an air of refinement, his posture upright and his expression serene yet commanding. He was dressed impeccably in a high-collared white shirt, adorned with a finely tied baby blue cravat, and a tailored navy blue waistcoat. The painting was so expertly rendered that it seemed to breathe with life.

You leaned in closer to the painting, your gaze tracing the intricate interplay of light and shadow across his face. The artist had masterfully captured the sharp angles of his jawline and cheekbones, which stood in striking contrast to the gentle curve of his lips and the soft arch of his brows. His eyes, painted in a deep, almost mesmerizing shade of blue, seemed to lock onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The fullness of his lips was accentuated by a subtle hint of rosy pigment, suggesting a warmth that softened his otherwise cool demeanor. You couldn't help but let your eyes rest on those lips, lingering a moment longer than you had intended. Your gaze then drifted upwards, taking in his hair, deep brown strands that tumbled in a thick, slightly wild mane, as though his fingers had just tousled it.

As your fingertips brushed against the intricate patterns of the ornate frame, a tingle traveled down your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. You shivered slightly, reminding yourself that Bridgerton House’s heating and cooling system was still a work in progress, and attributed the sudden cold to the draftiness of the old mansion.

Leaning closer, you squinted at the small brass plaque affixed below the portrait.

"Benedict Charles Bridgerton, Born 1786, Died 1816," you read aloud. "You were only thirty," you murmured with a furrowed brow, half-expecting the painted eyes to blink in response.

The scent returned, a heady mix of tobacco, turpentine, and aged leather lingering in the air. You sniffed again, turning on your heel to pinpoint its source, your footsteps echoing in the silence. Just then, a faint creak resonated from the distant shadows of the hall. The sound sent your heart racing, and you stifled a scream when, without warning, the lights flickered out, plunging you into the suffocating blackness of the portrait hall.

series taglist: @monaskydancer @dorianellle @benophiepie @folkwh0relover13 @whatcjdidnext (message me to be added to the tag list!)

[jeonjayykkayy]

𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 I 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

 —If I Can't Have You—

Pairing:

Jeon Jungkook × Female Reader (Y/N) Mentions of Y/N × Jaehyun (past relationship)

Genre:

Dark Romance

Psychological Thriller

Horror

Obsession

Word Count: ~2.5k

Summary:

After a long-haul flight, Y/N returns to the arms of her boyfriend Jaehyun, a charming and successful surgeon. Their love feels safe — ordinary, even — until a silent presence begins stalking from the shadows. A stranger who’s been watching for far too long. When one night turns into a bloodbath, Y/N wakes up somewhere unfamiliar, trapped by a man who believes she belongs to him. And he’ll make sure no one else ever touches her again.

Because if he can’t have her... No one can.

🚨 Warnings:

Extreme Violence / Murder

Blood & Gore (including dismemberment, body horror)

Non-consensual captivity

Obsessive behavior / Stalking

Psychological manipulation and terror

Sexual assault implication / threat (non-explicit but heavily implied)

Strong language / Disturbing imagery

Death of a major character (Jaehyun)

🔞 This story contains dark and triggering themes. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

The terminal doors slid open with a hiss, releasing a wave of late-night exhaustion into the soft glow of Seoul's city lights. Y/N stepped out first — suitcase in one hand, phone in the other, hair slightly tousled from the long-haul flight she'd just completed. The navy-blue flight attendant uniform hugged her figure neatly, the signature scarf loose around her neck. She blinked up at the sky — black velvet with a few stars daring to show themselves between the buildings.

Another day, another city, another safe landing.

But the moment her heels hit the concrete, her lips curled into something softer—something only one man in the world could pull from her.

Jaehyun.

He was leaning against his sleek black car, dressed down in a long camel coat and slacks, hands in his pockets, his surgeon badge still hanging half-hidden from the inside of his coat. His features were calm, refined, like he had just stepped out of a luxury magazine — all except for his eyes, which lit up like a boy seeing the girl of his dreams for the first time again.

She didn't run. She didn't have to. He was already walking toward her.

"You look tired," he said gently, voice low and warm like a fireplace. "Still pretty, though."

She dropped her suitcase and smiled, the kind of smile that came from knowing someone loved you completely.

"I hate night flights," she whispered, reaching for him.

He wrapped his arms around her, not caring about the people coming and going. His lips found hers without hesitation — soft at first, then deeper, more familiar. She leaned into it, her hands tangled into the front of his coat like she was trying to pull the stress of the day out through him.

And far away, hidden behind the tinted windows of a parked van — someone watched.

The camera clicked once. No flash. No sound. Just a mechanical blink as the lens zoomed in to catch the moment her lips parted.

Jaehyun's apartment smelled like cedar and fresh linen — clean, precise, minimal. Much like the man who owned it.

Y/N padded through the living room barefoot, his sweatshirt hanging loose around her thighs. Her hair was still damp from the shower, dripping a little on the hardwood floors, but she didn't care.

Jaehyun stood in the kitchen, chopping something. Pasta night.

"You always cook when I get home," she called out softly.

He glanced back with a half-smile. "Only when I miss you."

"You must be eating pasta every night, then."

He chuckled, eyes narrowing. "Don't flatter yourself."

She walked over and looped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her cheek against his back. His heartbeat was calm. Reassuring. The world felt small in moments like this — like nothing outside of this kitchen mattered.

But outside — someone else watched.

Through the apartment across the street. Third floor. Lights off. The curtain cracked.

He had memorised their routine. Every touch. Every laugh. Every time Jaehyun kissed her temple. Every time she smiled, like he deserved it.

It made his fingers curl tightly around the camera. The lens trembled, not from cold — from the slow, creeping burn of hatred and want.

The city lights streamed through the blinds in soft stripes, casting silver shadows across the bedroom walls. Y/N lay curled on Jaehyun's chest, his fingers running mindlessly through her hair. The comforter was kicked down to their waists, the air thick with warmth and the kind of silence that comes only after being loved and held for hours.

"You know," Jaehyun murmured, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep, "I've been thinking about us."

She shifted a little, lifting her chin to look up at him. "Yeah?"

He smiled gently. "I want us to move in together. For real this time. No more late-night goodbyes."

Y/N's eyes softened. "You serious?"

"As a heart attack," he said, then laughed lightly. "Okay—bad metaphor, considering my job."

She laughed too, then pressed a small kiss to his chest. "I'd like that… Jaehyun, I really would."

Outside the window, across the street, the cracked curtain was closed now. The man wasn't watching from there anymore.

He was closer.

He was already at the door.

The sudden ring of the doorbell made them both flinch.

Y/N frowned, propping herself up. "It's almost midnight. Who…?"

Jaehyun sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Probably delivery or a neighbour. I'll check."

"Want me to come—?"

"Nah," he said, pulling on his t-shirt. "Stay in bed. I'll be a second."

Y/N nodded and settled back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling. But something about the silence that followed made her chest feel tight. No greeting. No words. Not even footsteps returning.

Just silence.

Cold, swallowing silence.

She waited. Five seconds. Ten.

"Jaehyun?" she called out, sitting up. No answer.

She pulled the comforter around her, got up, and padded barefoot through the hallway, the wood cool against her skin.

"Babe?"

As she neared the living room, she saw it.

The blood.

A long, thick smear across the hardwood floor. Dark. Wet.

And a man.

A man dressed in black, dragging Jaehyun's body by one leg — limp, arms trailing uselessly behind, face bloodied and swollen. His shirt was torn, his chest unmoving.

Y/N's scream tore through the apartment like thunder — raw, unfiltered terror. She stumbled backwards, grabbing at the wall, her voice hoarse from the shriek.

The man turned.

She saw his eyes — not Jaehyun's. Not familiar.

A stranger's.

He lunged.

Her scream was choked off as a rough, gloved hand clamped over her mouth. She kicked, scratched, bit — anything to get free — but he was stronger, faster, and didn't hesitate.

From his coat, he pulled a syringe. The sharp glint of the needle was the last thing she saw before it jabbed into her neck.

Her vision blurred. Her legs folded beneath her.

The last sound she heard before falling into darkness… was laughter.

Low. Cruel.

Amused.

Her head felt like it had been split in two — heavy, throbbing, and barely attached to her shoulders. Y/N blinked once. Twice. The light above her was dim, swaying slightly. A single yellow bulb. Faint. Cold. Her hands refused to move — something bit into her wrists, and she realised they were tied to a headboard with thick leather straps.

She was in bed. Not her own. Not Jaehyun's.

This room was… wrong.

The air smelled metallic—sharp, like rust and wet pennies. The walls were dark concrete. There were no windows. The sheets beneath her were too soft, like they belonged to someone who enjoyed pretending this was home.

Her eyes scanned slowly.

A shadow moved in the corner of the room.

"You're awake," a voice said — smooth, young, low.

Y/N's throat burned as she whispered, "Who are you…?"

Footsteps.

The man emerged into the light slowly, like he'd been savouring this moment. His face was familiar — agonizingly so. She had seen him somewhere. Airport? Hotel? A passing face. Too ordinary to notice. Too deliberate to forget.

Jeon Jungkook.

A name she didn't know. A man who had been watching her far longer than she realised.

"You probably don't remember me," he said softly, pulling a chair close to the bed. "But I remember everything about you. The first time I saw you. The way your hair looked in that navy-blue uniform. The way you smiled at him like he was everything."

He reached up and ran a gloved finger down her cheek.

"You don't look at me like that," he said with a pout. "But you will."

Y/N jerked her head away, face twisting in horror. "Where is Jaehyun?"

His lips curved. "Oh, sweetheart. You should be asking what is left of him."

She struggled violently against the restraints, breath hitching in her throat. "Let me go! Let me go, please!"

"I brought you something," he said calmly, ignoring her screams.

He reached behind him — and then turned, carrying a silver tray.

She didn't understand what she was looking at. Not at first.

But then he set it on the nightstand beside her.

Two eyes.

Human.

Wet. Open. Lifeless.

"Do you know what these are?" Jungkook asked, tilting his head like he was offering her dessert.

She sobbed, shaking her head, bile rising in her throat.

"These," he whispered, "are the eyes that looked at you. Touched you with just a stare. Right now… they're nothing. Lifeless. Just meat."

Y/N screamed.

She thrashed, twisted, and tried to pull her hands free until her wrists bled.

He grabbed her face in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "Don't turn away. You need to see it. That man touched what belongs to me."

She choked, voice trembling. "W-Where's the rest…?"

He smiled. A slow, devilish thing.

"Oh, baby," he whispered. "I cut it off."

Her breath caught.

"I peeled his skin off and fed it to my pets. His fingers, too. Do you want to see?"

She shook her head violently. "N-No—please!"

He laughed, stood, and walked to the other side of the room. Behind a sliding door of steel, there was a small freezer. He opened it. She couldn't see what was inside, but the sound — wet sloshing, plastic bags, the quiet hum of refrigeration — made her stomach turn.

"Maybe later," he said casually. "You're not ready."

He turned back to her, eyes dark and wild now.

Then, without a word, he reached for the zipper of her dress shirt — the one she wore under the uniform jacket, now stained with tears and sweat.

She struggled, screamed again. Her arms were tied, legs trapped under his weight as he straddled her.

"Don't fight me," he whispered into her ear. "I've waited so long."

His hand unbuttoned her shirt, exposing her skin to the cold air of the room.

He smiled at her fear.

And began to undress her slowly.

She screamed again, struggling to escape his grasp, but he maintained his hold. Tears streamed down her face as he kissed her jaw, each touch bruising her skin and filling her with revulsion.

She attempted to turn her head away, but he prevented her, his kisses moving from her jaw to her neck and then to her collarbone, leaving a trail of bruises and marks that disgusted her.

He then sucked, kissed, and nibbled on her collarbone. His attentions then shifted from her collarbone to her chest, where he sucked on one breast while caressing the other, leaving marks on both her breasts and the valley between them.

He withdrew briefly before removing his own clothing. All the while, she pleaded with him to stop, begging and struggling. He then removed her pants and panties, caressing her inner thigh and vagina as she cried out, continuing to beg him to desist.

He forced his fingers into her vagina, causing her to scream, tears streaming down her face as she gasped for air and struggled against him as he moved his fingers harder and faster.

He then withdrew his fingers and instead positioned himself to penetrate her, forcing his length inside her, tearing her insides as she screamed and again begged him to stop.

He ignored her pleas, seemingly deaf to her cries. He was consumed by his own pleasure, oblivious to her tears, her desperate pleas, her attempts to escape the restraints, and her struggles beneath him.

He eventually ejaculated, breathing heavily. Meanwhile, she became blank and numb, beyond begging or struggling, too exhausted to resist any further, resigned to the completion of the act.

The air was too still. Not a single breeze, not even the distant hum of life beyond the four walls. Just silence.

Her body was cold against the mattress, but her skin burned where his touch had lingered. Her breath hitched and trembled, quiet sobs escaping her lips like broken promises.

Her eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. The ceiling offered no comfort. The room, no escape.

The shirt was gone. Her body was bare, her soul stripped even more. She didn’t know when she’d stopped crying out loud. Now it was just silent pain, leaking from her eyes, soaking into the pillow beneath her cheek.

A shadow shifted beside her. The bed dipped gently. She didn't flinch—she was too far gone. His fingers touched her cheek, feather-light. Gentle. Wrong.

"You smiled at that old man who helped you lift your suitcase in the terminal," Jungkook’s voice came, low, steady, like he was reminiscing about a dream. "At the woman who spilt coffee near your gate. At every goddamn stranger."

His thumb brushed a tear from her cheek as if it hurt him to see it.

"But not at me. Never me."

She blinked slowly, breath catching. Her lips trembled, but she said nothing.

Jungkook leaned closer, the scent of his skin surrounding her — warm, suffocating. His lips pressed to her temple, soft, lingering.

"I watched you," he whispered. "At hotels. Airports. That day at the lounge… You were with Jaehyun. Laughing. Looking so happy."

Her chest ached not just from the pain, but from the weight of his words. She wanted to scream, but even her voice had abandoned her.

"I kept wondering," he murmured, his hand resting on her hair. "Why him? What did he do that I didn’t? What did he have that I could never give you?"

He kissed her again, near the edge of her brow.

"I love you, Y/N," he said, like a confession. Like a vow.

Her fingers curled into the sheets. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t push him away.

"You're the first," he breathed. "And you'll be the last. I don’t care if I burn for you. I don’t care if this world ends tomorrow."

His hand slid to cup her face. She didn’t meet his eyes.

"If you told me to leave," his voice cracked, just a little. "If you begged me to go away… I’d cry. I swear I would. And if you ever left me, Y/N…"

A pause. A breath.

"I’d die."

Then he pressed his lips to her forehead — not a kiss of love, but of possession.

"I don’t need your love. I just need you. And if you fight me, I’ll break you so completely, you’ll never know who you are without me."

He whispered darkly yet passionately of wanting, loving and breaking her all at once.

She closed her eyes, not because she wanted to — but because it was the only escape left.

And the room remained silent. As if even time itself refused to witness what had just been done.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝

[fiapartridge]

bye ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ | jack hughes

“maybe someday we'll look back with love.”

☼ pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

☼ summary: feeling down, an ad for lacuna inc. makes its way to your doorstep, prompting you to travel to new york city and erase your memory of the one thing that's hurting you...

☼ fia’s note 💌: eee i love this song! this album is 100% a no-skip album! again, thx for joining us on this 13-part-series <3 pls enjoy “bye” ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

eternal sunshine hq ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

prev part: intro (end of the world) ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

*₊ ° .　. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

He still lingered around your house. Memories of you two slow dancing in the kitchen, sitting on countertops as he stands between your legs, dolloping whip cream on your nose as you laughed like it was the funniest thing on the planet. Honestly, to you, it was the funniest thing on the planet. You two lived in your own world; on your own planet. Everyone saw it that way, and for while, you did too.

You had been meaning to ship his belongings back to him: the red and black Devils sweatshirts piled on your dresser, the teddy bear he won you during your trip to Coney Island, the cologne he left on your desk in case you missed him while he was on a road trip. You couldn’t stay in your apartment anymore. Every time you came back to the beige walls of your small home, you were greeted with reminders of Jack. And it stung every single time.

Collecting his items from around your apartment, you stuffed them into a white cardboard box. You didn’t know what you would do with it. Maybe you could ding dong ditch Jack and just leave the items at his doorstep, or maybe you could burn it somewhere with your best friend, Courtney. Upon deciding your next step, a slip of paper slid underneath your door.

You stood there for a moment, watching the paper sit in its place, its words tucked to the underbelly of the pamphlet. Walking over, you cautiously kneeled down and turned the sheet over.

“Lacuna, inc.

They say time heals all wounds, but the hardest part about dealing with a wound in your past is not the pain, or having to relive it again and again. The hardest part is that it makes you question who you are. Don’t let the memory define you. Erase it. Start anew. Reinvent yourself without the lingering thought of them in your mind, and the prospect of questioning your abilities in the future. 

Visit Lacuna, inc. at 210 E Grand St. New York, NY 10019. Call us at +1 (917) 964 - 3205.

Become yourself again.”

It felt stupid, right? Erasing the memory of Jack Hughes and your relationship with him from your entire memory? It felt extreme and dangerous—highly unlike you. But that was the thing that broke the camel’s back in the first place. You couldn’t be what Jack wanted you to be. You couldn’t be spontaneous and take risks and be dangerous. Maybe it was time to start? Because for the past two months, you felt this unbearable ache in your chest and you were tired of feeling it. You were tired of wondering if you were enough, or if you could ever be happy again.

This could fix that. It could fix everything. It could fix you. 

Which was why you found yourself in the driver's seat of your car, your collection of items that reminded you of Jack in the passenger seat beside you, and your GPS pulled up with the location of Lacuna, inc. in New York City.

You were going to become yourself again. 

*₊ ° .　. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The waiting room was small: uncomfy chairs lining the perimeter of the room, a table in the center with research about lacunar amnesia and the safety of the practice, and ugly overhead lighting that made you feel like you were little again, waiting nervously at the doctor’s office.

A brown clipboard laid on your thighs with a waiver, asking you if you really wanted to do it. There was no going back. There was no regaining the memory of Jack Hughes after the procedure. Once it was gone, it was gone— for good. No more Jack. 

You could move on—the same way it looked like he already had.

“You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give “Lacuna, inc.” exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your mind: Yes or No”

With a shaky breath, you checkmarked: Yes.

A couple minutes later, your name was called by one of the nurses and you were carrying your box of Jack’s things into the procedure room. They took the box from your hands, laying it on a table with big machinery and lasers. This whole thing felt foreign to you, but you were ready.

Sitting down in a chair at the center of the room, they strapped patches to your temples as you sat with your hands intertwined in your lap. Your heartbeat raced on the monitor beside you as you closed your eyes, letting the memories take you for the last time. 

“Marry me,” Jack blurted as you laid in his arms on the sofa of his apartment. He could feel you tense up. He could feel your breath stutter and you rise from your position.

“What?” you asked, unsure if you had heard him correctly. You started dating Jack when you were 20. You had a year left of college, he was already playing in the NHL, and you had never met anyone quite like him. He was carefree and limitless. He believed that anything was possible; that logistics weren’t important. You were the one that kept him leveled; that yes, ideas and fantasy is important, but the actuality of it is important too.

“Marry me,” he repeated. He said it so simply, as if it held the same weight as asking if you wanted to go out for ice cream later, or if you wanted to stay in or go out for dinner tonight.

You furrowed your brows, your mouth running dry. “We’re 22, Jack.”

He scoffed, mirroring your body language as he rose from his position on the couch. “So?” he shrugged. He took your hands in his as you failed to meet his green eyes. “I want to be with you, Y/N. I know that more than anything. You can move in with me, we could get engaged now and married next year, my grandmother would love you, and—”

“Jack—”

“My brothers already consider you a part of the family—”

“Jack—”

“Why don’t we just make it official, you know? You could be family and—”

“Jack stop,” you scolded, removing your hands from his as he stared at you with a look you’ve never seen before. He’s never been the level-headed type. He’d always been one to fantasize, but this felt extreme. You two were still young, you were still trying to find a stable job and make a name for yourself. You couldn’t get married now. “Listen to yourself. I don’t even have a stable job.”

“You don’t need one!” he exclaimed. “I can work, I can make enough for the both of us, you don’t need to worry about money.”

You stood up from the couch, fuming. How could he just dismiss everything you’ve ever worked for like that? “But I want to work.”

“So work,” he shrugged. “Find a job, I don’t know! All I know is that I want to get married to you. Don’t you want that with me?”

You paced around the living room, trying to wrap your head around everything. “Yes, of course I want that with you, Jack. I just,” you took a deep breath. “I don’t want that right now.”

You watched him recoil. He wanted it now, you could see it in the way he goes silent, and the way he looks as if he wants to be nowhere near you right now. “When do you want it then?”

It wasn’t like you had a set date in mind, but it sounded like all he could hear from you was that you didn’t want to get married. He didn’t want to listen to you. Whenever anything deviated from what he wanted, he shut down. That was just who he was, always has been. 

You crossed your arms, holding yourself as if that was the only thing that felt familiar to you in that moment. “I don’t know. When we’re 24? 25?”

“Two more years?” he questioned incredulously. If he knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life, why couldn’t he just wait?

“Jack, your fans don’t even know we’re dating!” you shouted. “How are they going to feel when they find out you’re fucking married? Would you even tell them or would you just keep me a secret for the rest of our lives?”

“You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I’m just not ready, and you know you aren’t either.”

He laughed, but it felt poisonous, like venom was dripping from his tongue. It didn’t feel like his infectious laughs that you wanted to replay in your mind for the rest of your life. It felt like a memory you needed to erase. “What are you saying, Y/N? This isn’t just a random thought. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. And I guess, I just thought that you were thinking about it, too.”

“I have been! Just...not now, Jack. Why can’t you just listen to me? It’s not just you involved in this! This is both of our lives that this is affecting!”

“Well, I didn’t think it would be such a terrible thing for you.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was acting as if the two years you had spent together were nothing to you. “I never said that and you know that.”

“Yeah? Well, it sure feels like it.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

It was like you hit a nerve. Like you touched something that you never knew was beneath him. “Then why are you even with me? If I’m so unbelievable.”

“You can’t be serious, Jack,” you shook your head, rounding the corner of the room and towards your shoes that were laid at the entrance of the apartment. You pointed at him as he followed you. “You’re acting like a child. Grow up!”

“Me? You’re the one that’s scared of committing!”

“I’m not scared of committing to you, Jack. I’m scared of not being me anymore. You need to know the difference!”

“Then tell me the fucking difference, because right now, it just feels like we’re breaking up.”

Your head shook, your fingers didn’t feel like your fingers anymore, and in real life, in that office chair, your eyes scrunched and your breathing quickened. You couldn’t relive this. Somehow, it hurt more the second time.

“I don’t even know who I am yet!” you threw your hands in the air. “And you just expect me to be Mrs. Hughes? To be a part of your family? To make me… yours?”

“Come on, Y/N. You’re being dramatic. You’re acting like I’m taking you, or something.”

“I’m not dramatic, you’re just not listening to me!”

“I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to listen to you, but you’re making this so fucking difficult. You make everything fucking difficult. You’re just too much sometimes.”

You didn’t even know you were crying by then, but you were. You were sniffling as you walked around the apartment, grabbing your jacket from the couch, your purse from the dining table, and your shoes from the entryway. You could hear him pestering you with questions: Where are you going? We’re not done with this. Are we breaking up? If you leave, we’re done.

But you’ve spent your life being a people pleaser. You’ve abandoned yourself time and time again to make ends meet. You’ve skipped so many important events to go to his games, and to meet him in California just because he asked you to, and at the most important times of your career, times when you asked him to just stop by for a second so you could have one familiar, comforting face, he had a game, or he had to go out with the guys for “team-bonding”, or something else of higher matter just took priority. All you asked for was effort from both sides. 

So to hear that you prioritizing yourself for the first time was dramatic? You couldn’t hear him anymore. All you wanted was to get the hell out of there—even if it meant breaking up.

Courtney pulled up outside as you rushed into her car, your chest heaving and tears spilling out of your eyes. She didn’t ask what happened, she could tell from your texts that it was something bad, something unrecoverable.

But, as if saying it out loud would help you comprehend it for yourself, you said the undeniable.

“I think we just broke up.”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Making Deals--A 'Roll for Initiative' Blurb

Series Masterlist

Complete Masterlist

Inspired by an IG Reel that @hoodharlow sent me and also by the anon that asked about if the recognition is ever too much.

___________________

"If it's that bad, I don't want you working there. We can make a plan, find something else for you to do. We always find a way."

Joe is right. There is a way. Though the Bengals had a spectacular season so far, the stares didn't stop. It's horrible timing to bring it up now, with play-offs looming that they're headed into, but one patient who seemed a little too intent on having words with you, paused after they were check out from their appointment, to comment, "Tell that boyfriend of yours to keep it tight now. We've been here before in Championships talks. We need a Lombardi."

And that--that's the straw that broke the camel's back. You could handle the glances, the whispers, the phones that couldn't record inside, but you were sure by the speed of their fingers, were texting at the very least about you. But you could not tolerate that--the kind of entitlement that just because you were there doing a normal job in a relationship with Joe that anything about the relationship was open to discussion--including his job.

Joe reaches for the lunch bag resting in the passenger seat. Storm has leapt up into your car and working now to walk across the middle console, but the second Joe cracked open the door, the words were spilling out of your mouth, "I think it's getting bad at work."

And Joe responded, as always, with a kind of level headness that you think you could envy if you weren't in a relationship with him. Still, all that remains is that Joe is right. You two could still make a plan.

"But I still have like a year left on my car." It's not the kind of counter you lob with malicious intent. It's just worry. If you're not doing something, you're worried about the remaining responsibilities you had. Joe was already matching your student loan payments to help you out of the debt faster. But you don't want to offload everything onto him.

He laughs, all mostly an exhaled tuft, a whispered sound. "I think the zeros in my account won't be hurt."

"I'm being serious."

Again, Joe is right. You won't negate that, but you can't just up and quit your job to do nothing. And there are things you want to do, but you don't even have the means to begin thinking your qualified enough for them. Not right now. How would you even start a business and how would you keep it afloat?

"I know you are. You just looked anxious. Wanted to make you laugh. Clearly, I'm not a comedian so I won't be quitting football just yet. How about instead I feed you and then we can talk after dinner?"

"You feed me or Jordan?" you tease in return, referring to Joe's chef.

"I'll have you know your lemon pepper wings should have," Joe starts with a flick of his wrist to look down at his smartwatch, "another 3 minutes left in the air fryer."

"Well, shit," you laugh, undoing the seat belt. "You should've started with that."

"That's what I wanted to see. I'll take your coat too if you take Storm."

Not that it's a question, not that it ever needs to be, you slip your arm under Storm and he settles in instantly. The house smells alive--more so than usual and you can hear it, the whir of the Air Fryer. You settle Storm back down onto the floor. He weaves around your feet, between your legs, his body vibrating with the purrs. Joe called himself Storm's stepdad--a distant kind of love and care--but it's not lost on you after Joe places your lunch bag next to the sink, he hums against you in the tight embrace.

Like father, like son.

"I'm sorry that person was rude to you today," Joe whispers into your neck.

You're sorry too, but you're focused more on the smell of Joe's bodywash, the mixture of the detergent in his sweatshirt's fabric. Joe tries to pull away, but you tighten around him. Here is safe and that's where you want to stay. "One more minute, please," you beg.

"Of course, baby."

Naturally Joe's brain is churning, always spinning in a way that you can't see, but you know is going. So when he offers a match on your car loan too after dinner-1.5x payment to everyone 1 payment you make--you're not shocked. The plates settle into the sink for the time being and Joe pauses on his way to cabinet to grab the dishwasher packet.

"What do you think? I think if we take care of your car first, then you can take your time before landing on your next job. Since I know you want to work."

It would mean having to work through the rest of the season, but you can stomach that. You think. Not that you’d want to leave abruptly. There’s not much your boss could do, though you did okay the email campaign asking for the privacy of employees to be respected, you know there’s only so far they can go. Postings on the doors often go unread. You’re not left out to dry, which is a plus, so you don’t want to leave and burn the bridge god forbid, you need it again. 

With a finger, you pause Joe and find your phone. You know how much you have left roughly and start running the numbers. By the time the off season starts, you could leave. You still have of course the money you've managed to save living with Joe to help you with odds and ends. of your own.

"Let me sleep on it?" you ask. It looks good right now but you want to marinate longer on it. Make sure that you’re doing what you feel is right for yourself. "But you're sure you're okay with that? Shouldering that much financial burden?"

His smirk grows, the corner of his mouth lifting higher and higher.

"Alright, Joseph," you snort, knowing exactly where he's about to go. How the zeros in his account will not be hurt. 

The gasp that escapes Joe is sharp. He slaps a hand to his chest, ever so gingerly falling into the fridge door. "Baby, you've wounded me. My government name. I don't even know that guy."

"I wish I didn't either, right now."

The distance is hardly a few steps for Joe and he slides in, arms pushing towards the edge of the kitchen island counter, not trapping you in, but it does keep you in place. Joe presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a slow kiss. One that drags his bottom lip against your cheek. Your spine shivers at the touch. “I wouldn’t offer it if I couldn’t handle it. Now say my name, properly this time.”

“I might need convincing,” you whisper against his cheek, hands slipping under the sweatshirt. 

His laughter is soft, but strained, the kind of sound all from his throat--a dark and still amused rumbling. “What did you say once? That you wanted me to make your day?”

“Well, are you?”

You wait a beat, stomach quaking at the speed of Joe’s movement. One moment you’re standing, kissing along his jaw, and the next, Joe’s got your legs wrapped around his waist. You cling to his neck, laughter bubbling from your chest. “Oh, I hope you’re in for a long night then. Because I’m going to get it out of you. One way or a-fucking-nother.” His words are growled against your throat, low and rumbly. Your arousal is hot in your stomach. 

“Please, hon,” you whimper at the nip of his teeth at your neck. 

It only takes a few days to agree. That once your car is paid off fully, you'll quit and then try to pivot. You're still not sure what you'll do but at the very least you know you won't have to endure it too much longer. The decision lightens your shoulders, eases the tension between them and somewhere in the four days it took you to agree, the persistent headache that grew at the base of your neck, disappears. You feel new, revived in a way that you hadn't realized just how burdened you'd been with the constant eyes.

You leave work early, the others at the front desk encourage you to take it, with a few last minute cancellations and only one person is able to take the earlier appointment time, there's not a ton of work you're leaving behind. So you take it, leave work with just a little more bounce in your step.

There's a few groceries you need to go so you take advantage of the early afternoon. Perhaps, you'll even grab some flowers for the house. Neither you or Joe have managed to keep them in rotation with the season going. But now feels like a good time.

The grocery store is busier than you anticipate but that doesn’t deter you. You’ve got a whole afternoon now, plenty of time. Joe should be on his way home from practice and this detour to the grocery store won’t put you getting back home at your usual time but still early enough to surprise him. The cold nips at you just as you cross over the threshold into the store. Your cart has a bit of a squeaky wheel, but you won’t be long in the store. 

The flowers are right near the entrance so they’re the first thing you grab--though they don’t look fresh, they still look relatively good and should hold for a week hopefully. There’s mustard you need to grab, some more bread, burger patties, toilet paper, and clorox wipes. You’re sure there’s probably more, but that’s what you noticed and you need to get them now before the weekend. The playoffs aren’t local and should the Bengals continue to advance, you do have plans to fly out for the championship game and SuperBowl. 

After placing the bread down in your basket, you find yourself pausing on the aisle. You were pretty sure about the mustard when you first arrived into the grocery story, but now, you're not sure about the ketchup. And that doubt leaves you to doubt if you really need either condiment in the first place. “And this is why we have a list,” you mutter to yourself as you push your basket down and figure you’ll grab the mustard while it���s on your mind. You wouldn't recall mustard if you had much left.

“Oh, sorry,” you rush out, noticing the motion from the corner of your eye as someone steps out between the racks of wine, nearly into the line of your basket. You just barely catch the movement thanks to a rather ill placed pole in the top corner of the aisle between the condiments and the alcohol.

There’s a squeak, shoes gripping on the floor and you pull the cart back towards yourself. “They really shouldn’t have that pole in--” The words die in your throat as you look up, only to find Joe, head raising up from his phone, eyes wide. 

His apology falls fast from his lips, “Sorry.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. 

“Baby, what are you doing here?” he grins, pocketing the device. 

“What are you doing here?” you laugh.

He sets the small handheld basket onto the edge of your larger one. There’s bread, patties,and a few of your favorite snacks already tucked into the basket.  “Being a good partner and getting stuff needed for the house. Are you playing hooky from work?”

“I was released early with permission. How dare you insinuate that I don’t take my job seriously?” It’s faux offense that paints your words and the laughter is easy even in the middle of the aisle. 

His eyes fall into the basket. “You should probably put those flowers back.”

“Why? These are the best looking ones they have.”

Joe’s eyes dazzle when you look back up from his pointed gesture. “Because I have an arrangement I’m picking up once we leave here.”

“Oh, but not the double patties.”

“No, because I’m sure I could destroy a pack by myself right now, which means if you don’t have extra just for you, you’re going to be sad because I swear it’s like every other week you want a burger or a frozen pizza for dinner.”

“I eat healthy every other instance though.”

“Because someone has to make sure you get vegetables.” The retort is primed, ready on your tongue, but he’s quicker.  “And no, potatoes don’t count. They’re a starch. Which one of us is the professional athlete?” The arch of his brow is lethal, makes your stomach flutter though at how stern he is over making sure you’re eating well. 

“Are you flirting with me in the middle of this grocery store? I swear you are looking like that.”

“If I was, you wouldn’t question it. Now, scoot,” Joe drops the smaller basket into the cart, fingers waving you away from the handle of the cart. “Do we need ketchup or mustard?”

There’s little hassle from you so you slide over, letting him take over. “I can’t remember, if I’m honest. I thought it was just mustard and then started to doubt myself.” Both bottles land into the basket. He pushes onward and you start right behind him, only to wind up distracted by the display at the end of the aisle at all the Christmas displays, though it’s still a couple weeks away. Your distraction only lasts for a second before you spy his hand reaching back, a slight wiggle of his digits to beckon you. 

“Can I make a case for Christmas cookies on this shopping venture?”

“The ones with the trees or the snowman ones?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Only if it’s trees and you promise not to tell my coach.”

“Trees it is.”

[minimomoe]

Love Bites

Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro (mafia au)

word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters

tags: Fluff, grumpy x sunshine, found family, a little angsty but nothing too bad, marriage proposal, established relationship, (last chapter only: kitchen sex, creampie, oral- fem receiving, other sexxy funtime stuff)

Chapter Five: Pumpkin Spice

The warmth of Toji’s hand sears through your gloves even in the nipping cold. You look around in the skating rink and see a little girl in a sparkly pink jumpsuit who is doing a camel spin before evolving it into a salchow. Your eyes couldn't even keep up with how many rotations the child was completing, and you weren't sure if cheering her on would distract her or not. You watch in amazement before she realizes that the little girl who’s finally slowing down is Nobara, one of Megumi’s friends. You hadn’t recognized her for a moment because her copper hair was tucked inside of her beanie. 

“That was beautiful,” you compliment and Nobara beams up at you before giving a curtsy. You were about to give another comment before you lost your balance again. You stumbled forward, trying to steady yourself, but fell short and the ice below you was rushing up to your face fast. Luckily for you, Toji was a steady boulder who was quick to hook his hand underneath your arm to prevent you from ending up in the hospital. 

“Thank you,” you giggle. “This is much harder than they make it look,” you say sheepishly when you are finally standing up straight. When Toji invited you out to come skating you agreed without hesitation, then later realized that you had never gotten on ice for any recreational business. You tried to look it up online to prepare, but it was hard if you didn’t have any skates to practice on your own. You were relieved to see that you weren't the only person unable to skate in the rink, but it was still a little embarrassing. 

“Follow my feet,” Toji says, gliding in front of her to grasp both of your hands tightly. Toji wasn’t wearing his usual suits, instead opting for an all grey sweatshirt and pants combo, with a black puffer jacket and beanie to match. It was a simple outfit, one that you had seen a thousand times before on other people, but he looked devastatingly handsome. Suddenly your feet started to shuffle frantically because you were admiring his face instead of following Toji’s feet like he told you. Your face crashes into his chest with a thump that even Toji groans at. You try to pull back but your feet slip again, causing you to make the same mistake. 

You slump in defeat and scowls at the ice below you. You rub your head into his chest, then lift your head up, digging your chin into his sternum to look at him. 

“I suck at this,” you pout. You bat your eyes at Toji and let your arms dangle at your sides while he continues to hold you up from your underarms. “Even the kids are better than me,” you grumble. You look at Yuji who also said he has never skated before, which was true since he was struggling to take baby steps on the ice with the help of Nobara and Megumi when they first came in, but now he was attempting a triple axel because Nobara had dared him to. 

Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head, an absentminded but affectionate gesture since she couldn’t actually feel the kiss through your hoodie and beanie covering your head, but you warmed up from it nonetheless. 

“You’re doing fine. Yuji’s freakishly good at everything.” 

“He could go to the Olympics at this rate,” you comment, pointing at how he landed yet another obnoxious turn that Nobara suggested. The kid was only ten years old for crying out loud. You groan and turn your forehead back into Toji’s chest again. 

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you want to leave?” Toji sets you right on your feet, his eyes grazing over your body. 

“How could I have been hurt? You’ve been holding my hand or body this whole time,” you laugh, then slowly shuffle to the nearest bench looking into the rink. “I don’t want to leave just yet,” you say, sitting down and stretching out your legs in front of you. Toji occupied the space next to you and you both watched the three of the children race around the rink together. You scoot closer to him, closing the gap between you, then rest your head on his shoulder. You hum along to the Christmas song that is playing overhead, threading your hand under Toji’s that was resting on his thigh. By instinct he brings up your hand to kiss the back of it and you grin in response. You sit quietly and listen to the sound of jingles and laughter for a moment until Toji speaks up. 

“What are your plans for Thanks—“

“Is this the reason why you can’t pick up the phone, you fucker?” A deep voice asks behind the couple, and your eyes widen at the interrupter. He must have been taller than Toji, with tattoos on his face and creeping up his neck, and spiked pink hair to top it off. Toji didn’t even turn around to acknowledge the man. He replies with a simple, “It broke.”

“If you’re gonna lie, at least make it a good one,” the other man grumbles. He finally looks down at you, who Toji scooped and tucked closer to his body. The other man crosses his arms over his chest and whistles.

“What’s this? You actually got yourself a woman now?”

“What do you want?”

“She’s really cute. What’s your name, honey?”

Toji pulls you closer and glares at the man. “Sukuna,” he warns. 

“Sukuna me all you want, I asked some questions first.”

“Baby, this is the bane of my existence. Bane of my existence, this is my baby. Now go back to whatever the fuck you were doing before this.” 

“I was looking for you, asshole. We have a problem,” Sukuna says after winking at you.

You give a small wave of your hand but stay quiet during their interaction. You can see Toji getting increasingly stressed out from the conversation so you rub his thigh consolingly. 

“Can’t. Busy. Take it to Nanami.”

“Nanami is pulling the same shit as you but he’s smart enough to stay inside to avoid me.”

“Gojo then.”

“He’s being disgusting with his girl right now. They’re feeding each other whatever baked goods she made for him this time and rubbing each oher’s noses,” Sukuna shivers. 

“Sounds like you should get yourself a partner,” Toji sighs. 

“Don’t worry about me, I got my eyes on someone. Speaking of partners, are you gonna bring her to the family Thanksgiving dinner?”

“I was getting to that before your big ass showed up.”

“I’d love to go. What should I bring?” You pipe up. 

“Anything you want, sugar, I’m sure it’ll taste amazing,” Sukuna purrs and dodges the arm Toji threw out in an attempt to punch his stomach. 

“Great. That’s settled. Call the kids over so I can drop them off at Nanami’s place as punishment for blocking my number again. We have some work to do.”

“I’ll be fine, Toji. It looks like your…friend needs you,” you smile. 

“Thank you,” Sukuna nods. “Here you go,” he hands you a cafe cup. “The lady in the store gave me a sugary pumpkin spice latte instead of black coffee.”

“Don’t take that,” Toji scowls and snatches the cup from Sukuna. “After I take her back then we can talk. Fuck off.”

“Love you too, baby,” Sukuna teases. He walks down the street hauling Yuji and Nobara on his shoulders and Megumi walking close behind, leaving Toji and you alone to walk to his car. 

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Toji says once you get in his car. 

“I want to. I want to meet the rest of your family,” you assure him.

“They’ll love you, but I’m greedy and wanted to spend Thanksgiving alone together.”

“We’ll have some alone time when we leave,” you say, leaning on the armrest and looking at his lips. 

“Oh yeah?”

You hum in response, drifting closer to his face, but place a finger on his lips before you could touch.

“First you should get me a pumpkin spice latte. I really wanted that one,” you grin.

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter || Ko-fi

[panestates]

well . ok. nathan's dressing style mirrors victoria's but i think he dresses more boyish to victoria's constant formalities. most of the time it's a long sleeved button down with a sweater over it and his jacket and dress pants and oxfords. if he wears jeans he wears black denim, mid rise, and straight leg. his pants are always fitted and belted. his leather items (shoes/belt/watch) are either camel brown or black. he doesn't really like to wear navy. if he wears a tie, it's dressed down with slouchier pants and a larger sweater. he doesn't wear only a short sleeve shirt during the warmer months because he is always cold + needs to cover his scars, but he's used to wearing thin white cotton t-shirts with a sweatshirt once the temperature peaks over 77 degrees. he mostly opts for cotton everything anyways so his clothes are light, but victoria and his family have seen him in vintage graphic shirts he buys from vintage stores; never for brands or businesses, more like gimmick, campy, or college shirts from the 60s-80s. i dont think he owns any modern graphics and i know he doesn't own any band shirts. he doesn't wear shorts and was miserable in florida for many reasons but that was one of them. i think he wears more color than victoria at the very least but when he's trying to appease her he tries to mimic her outfit palette/shape and it almost always works.

summer adjacent (we need to talk about kevin/succession/pinterest #sorry) . Probably the funniest characters to moodboard him with sorry guys. he's too self conscious to wear anything clinging but he looks more like a nautical boy from the 50s than anyone else in the state of oregon

all the other seasons: ill get thedesigners and shows tomorrow i am just so tired. He thjnks he's patrick bateman 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[allthistrashtalkmakemeitchin]

Ghostwriter Ch 3

Unbetad Unedited Unhinged || AO3

Pairings:

Kendall Knight/Female Original Character, Female Original Character/Female Original Character in the background, Logan Henderson/Camille Roberts in the background, James Diamond/Lucy Stone in the background

Characters: Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Logan Henderson, Carlos Garcia, Gustavo Rocque, Kelly Wainright, Arthur Griffin, Ronnie Clark oc, Callie oc, Addison oc

Word count: 5607

The bus dropped her off just a few blocks down from her house. Adjusting the bag on her shoulder, Ronnie played music through her earphones. Her MP3 player was safely in her sweatshirt pocket. She noticed the fancy car parked outside of her house and slowed to a stop. California in sleek printed letters was under the jumbled assortment of letters and numbers. She pulled an earbud out and looked at her house. Her dad's car was there, and Scout could be seen running around in the backyard. As curious as she was, panic crept up her neck as the cold breeze ruffled her hair. 

It had been roughly a week and a half since her music was first played on Marta In the Morning 108.9, and since then, it has been played a few more times. It was a jarring surprise to turn the radio on in the morning to hear one of her songs being requested by a caller. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to reap many benefits because it was overwhelming to have people who didn’t notice her suddenly crowd around her as if she were a celebrity. Not to mention, Callie and Addison were fighting, and she was in the middle of it. All she needed was some peace and quiet, for once. Her life essentially had been turned upside down in such little time. 

Ronnie was surprised to find the door was unlocked when she turned the knob. It stuck just like it always did, and she pushed hard against it with her shoulder. Ronnie felt it budge, but her father had opened the door. She smiled at him sheepishly and tucked her hair behind her ears. 

“Why is that car out front? Is it the FBI?” Ronnie gestured with her thumb over her shoulder at the black car. 

Her father smiled down at her wordlessly and stepped aside to let her into the house. She could see a well-dressed black woman sitting at their small dining room table, drinking from a mug decorated with Disney characters. Ronnie froze in the doorway, staring at her like a deer in headlights. Was she in trouble? Did something happen? Is she her dad’s lawyer? Does he no longer have ten years left? Her thoughts were racing, and her skin was set ablaze. Her father’s smile faltered, and he noticed the uncomfortability in her eyes. 

The woman noticed the girl with electric blue hair when her canvas bag hit the floor. She whizzed past them, pulling off her sweatshirt. Her bedroom door slammed shut, and the woman jumped. It wasn’t a reaction she was expecting. James gave her an apologetic look, flashing a smile as if to say I’m sorry about my daughter. 

“Is… Is she okay?” Kelly’s brow twitched, and the corners of her mouth downturned slightly. 

“She’ll be fine. She just needs some time alone.” 

“I’ll admit, this isn’t exactly the reaction I expected.” 

“Veronica will be over the moon, trust me.” He said this because, to him, it was customary for his daughter to be this way. James had always known that his daughter could get overstimulated and overwhelmed easily. 

“She doesn’t seem happy.” Kelly tried to curb her curiosity. As much as she wanted to poke and prod for any insight on the teenager with dyed hair, she refrained from asking anything personal. 

“I have a feeling it’s been a hard day, and with you being here, it might have been the final straw that broke the camel's back.” 

Kelly nodded slowly, not quite understanding, but she didn’t want to push it. She was in their home, and the last thing she wanted to do was overstep. 

There was an awkwardness that settled in the air. The black woman sipped on her tea and looked around the semi-open space. She noticed the photos on the wall. Ronnie and her father were in many of the pictures, and Kelly could only assume that the girl's grandmother was in a few of them, but only her mother was in one. That photo was at the center of the arrangement on the taupe wall. Ronnie was relatively young, and they looked like a small but happy family. James turned to look at what she intently looked at, and he tensed up slightly. The woman is wearing a light blue dress in the only photo of Ronnie, her father, and her mother. 

“My wife’s favorite color was blue. That’s why Ronnie dyed her hair that color.” 

Kelly snapped out of her thoughts; she stared at him cluelessly for a second. 

Eventually, Ronnie exited her room, and the woman felt saved. The teen opened the fridge and grabbed a can of cola from the open box on the shelf. It was only in the refrigerator to save floor space because a pack of water was sitting next to the counter on the floor. The can opened with a satisfying hiss, and Ronnie leaned her elbows on the counter. 

“Who are you?” She didn’t mean to sound on edge, but was on edge. She was uncomfortable and confused and needed a good cry. 

“Kelly Wainwright, I work at Rocque Records. I was talking with Mr. Clark– your father- about possibly taking you back to California so you can work under Gustavo Rocque.” 

“Gustavo Rocque, the boyband producer?” Ronnie looked unimpressed. 

“Yes… That Gustavo Rocque.” Kelly’s smile wavered slightly. 

She could already tell Ronnie’s response; in a way, she reminded her a lot of Kendall, who had no interest in becoming a singer. Since then, he has significantly changed, but that could be because he was there singing with his friends in a boyband. Perhaps Ronnie would be the same way. The teen could be disillusioned at the moment, but something would change her mind along the way, and she could be so happy to work with Gustavo and Big Time Rush. 

“Yeah, no. If you want to buy my music instead, I’m not selling it.” 

“Ronnie.” James turned to look at her, and for a moment, he gave her the same look her grandmother had whenever she ruined an opportunity of a lifetime. 

“Dad, I’m not going across the country without you.” 

“No, no, no. You misunderstand.” Kelly shook her head vigorously. “You and your father will have an all-expenses paid stay at the Palm Woods, the home of the future famous.” 

“Okay, I’m still not going. If you need a songwriter so badly, look elsewhere.” 

“Veronica.” James looked disappointed. Perhaps the grandmother had gotten through to him. 

Kelly was desperate—as desperate as Gustavo was when they went to Duluth, Minnesota, to find talent before Griffin sent them packing. There were four more days until Griffin’s deadline. This was her last chance. Ronnie was her last resort. 

“I understand completely,” Kelly stood up and rifled through her bag. She handed James the card, her smile pulled tightly across her face. “If you change your mind, my plane doesn’t leave for another day.” 

Ronnie rolled her eyes and slurped on her cola. 

“Thank you so much for having me.” Kelly’s voice wavered. The pressure was getting to her, and she would eventually snap. She was a rubberband that was pulled as tightly as possible. 

The woman moved haphazardly out the door, accidentally running into Callie on her way out. Ronnie’s dad sighed and shook his head. The teen didn’t see anything wrong with her answer but was surprised to see Callie standing there with a panicked and worried expression. Something in Ronnie’s bones told her something was wrong, but she wouldn’t jump to conclusions. It wouldn’t help if she jumped to conclusions. 

“Addison is attending Trent’s party tonight, and I’m worried about her. I don’t trust those football jerks.” Callie rushed to get to Ronnie’s house. She forgot her jacket and was shivering in the cold, rubbing her arms for warmth. 

Ronnie blinked twice, processing her words. Her dad listened to their conversation, but it wasn’t like anyone was in immediate danger. Were they? 

“I thought you weren’t on speaking terms.” 

“We aren’t, but that doesn’t matter. She got back together with her bitchy boyfriend, and I don’t trust him.” 

“You’re jealous,” Ronnie said bluntly. “I don’t like Trent either, but if Adds got back together with him, it's out of our hands.” 

“We have to go to that party to ensure she’ll be okay.” Callie pleaded. This was the first time something truly bothered her, and Ronnie had no idea what to think. 

Ronnie was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If she showed up at a party neither of them was invited to, it would seem like she was taking Callie’s side during their fight, but if she didn’t go, she would support Addison. There were unwritten social rules littered amongst this that she had yet to unearth or understand. 

“I think you should go to that party,” 

“Oh, hey, Mr. Clark.” Callie waved. 

“Dad.” Ronnie turned and gave him a pointed look. 

“What? It sounds like you need my advice.” 

“I don’t need your advice. I’m not going.” 

“Ronnie, please!” Callie clasped her hands together and gave her puppy dog eyes. 

Ronnie stared at her blankly. She didn’t want to go to the party. She didn’t care about anyone at the party. The pressure was building between her brows, and she tried to scream. She wanted to scream and throw things around. Even if Ronnie were to go to the party, it would only be because of Callie and Addison. The entire time, she would stick to standing outside and staying away from everyone else who was having a good time. The loud noises and flashing lights bothered her more than anything. Callie knew this, and Addison knew this. 

Callie and Ronnie were the loners, the outcasts, and they were most certainly not invited to a party hosted by Trent Anderson. But that didn’t matter. If Addison were in danger, Callie would go to her no matter where she was, even if she had to follow the cheerleader to the ends of the earth. Ronnie had strong opinions about alcohol and underage drug use. She knew it was wrong, but if it came down to it, she wouldn’t go to the police and rat anyone out. 

“Call me if anything happens or you want to come home early. I don’t want you getting a ride from one of your friends or a classmate, even if they aren’t drunk.” 

It was nice to know that her dad would come to her rescue. With such a support network, she couldn’t help but feel too hasty about not going to California with the woman from Rocque Records. 

Trent lived on the other side of town. His house was a mini-mansion. The colored lights poured out of the windows, and the music was so loud Callie and Ronnie could hear it down the street. Ronnie was already starting to freak out. All those people would be dancing and moving about with god-awful concoctions of alcohol in their cups because the only highlight of high school part was getting wasted. Ronnie considered unbuckling her seat belt and jumping out of the car for a split second. She may not know her way home but would run as far from this house as possible. Sinking into the passenger seat, she pulled her hood over her head and pulled the drawstrings to cover her face. 

“I know you hate this,” Callie sighed. “But I need to make sure Adds is okay.” 

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Ronnie mumbled through her hoodie. 

“Can you just pretend to be normal for once?” 

“What?” 

“At first, I thought you were being weird because you’re suddenly famous for your mediocre music, but you’re being fucking weird.” Callie unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door, slamming it shut shortly after. 

“Hold on,” Ronnie slammed the door shut when she scrambled out. “What do you mean?” 

“It’s always something with you!” Callie groaned and ran her hands through her hair. “Ice cream texture or the pretzel is too soft, the smell of salt water makes you vomit, the sweater is washed wrong. What is wrong with you? Why are you like this?” 

Ronnie was stunned into silence. She stared at Callie like the goth girl had kicked Scout multiple times. The black-haired girl didn’t wait for an answer. She stomped off toward the house, leaving Ronnie out front. Unfortunately, this was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Before spiraling, before freaking out and having a meltdown on the front lawn of Trent Anderson’s house, Ronnie needed to calm down. She needed something to distract her, to chase her worries and fears away. She needed to reduce the pressure building in her skull before globs of hot tears spilled out like ink from a ballpoint pen. 

The only way she would find that would be through the house. 

Against her better judgment, against her opinions and thoughts about house parties, she weaved her way through the congealed mass of teenage bodies. The stench of alcohol stuck to the walls, the floors, the couches, and the curtains. There was no doubt that the stench would stick to her clothes. Underage drinking was wrong; it was illegal, but perhaps the burn of the alcohol could hold the dam of emotions that were begging to break and spill free. 

“Woah, woah! Slow down there, or you’ll be waking up with a killer hangover tomorrow.” TJ Miller was the linebacker on their football team, and they shared a homeroom. He had a bit of a reputation because he broke a teacher’s nose. 

He took the bottle from her and grabbed the red Solo cup from her hands. In the dim light, he could see her shaking and the watery look in her eyes. He wasn’t going to let her drink all her problems away. 

“Come on, let’s go somewhere that isn’t crowded.” 

She wouldn’t usually let him lead her somewhere away from the loud music that made her head pound or the crowds that made her skin crawl. Ronnie was surprised when he led her upstairs and turned on the light in a room, possibly checking if anyone was using it to do something. Part of her thought he was going to shut the door and push himself onto her, but instead, he opened the window and climbed through. She felt like a deer in headlights watching him poke his head through the window. The flush of alcohol on his face wasn’t enough to determine if he was out of his mind because he was drunk or if he was being stupid trying to impress her. 

“The roof is stable, I promise.” He sounded so sincere and honest. He was the only guy on the football team who wasn’t a raging asshole. So, maybe she could trust him just this once. 

Ronnie climbed out the window carefully. She was squeezing the life out of TJ’s hand, her arms shaking. The roof was slanted, and it was like she was going to topple over and smash her head open on the ground below. But she sat down, pulled her knees to her chest, and buried her face in them while TJ laid back and rested his hands behind his head. 

“So, what’s on your mind, Vee? With all that alcohol you were pouring, I don’t doubt something is bothering you.” 

In Freshman year, TJ tutored Ronnie on environmental science. Unlike Trent, he was patient and kind and didn’t seem like someone who would make out with a drunk girl when he had a girlfriend. 

Ronnie’s shoulder hunched up, and she pulled her hood over her face. The cold air was cutting across her cheeks, and she wanted to hide that she had finally started crying. The brunette sat up when he realized just how upset she was. He was aware of her aversion to touch, especially during her breakdowns. He had witnessed quite a few during their tutoring sessions because her father had been diagnosed with prostate cancer at the time. 

“Everything’s changing,” she said. She picked her head up and held it in her hands. “My friends hate me, Hollywood scouted me because of my music, my dad might not have long to live, and I feel like it’s all falling apart.” 

“Woah…” TJ’s eyes widened. “Your friends don’t hate you. Everyone has fights. It’ll all blow over, and you’ll be as thick as thieves later.” 

“But what if we don’t? I don’t want to be alone again. I can’t be alone again. What if they hate me because they discovered Rocque Records stopping by my house?” 

“Okay, Vee, you can’t make everyone happy. What do you want to do?” 

“I don’t know!” Her shoulders shook with her sobs, and she buried her face in her arms. 

“Okay, okay.” TJ nodded to himself. He wasn’t exactly in the right mind to help her, nor did he know what to say in the moment that would make her feel better. 

So, his only solution was to let her cry. 

It was a lovely night, and he didn’t have anything against sitting out on the roof and letting his sort of friend cry. The air was crisp and clean, which rivaled the stifled, smelly air trapped in the horrible circulation of the house because all the windows were shut tight. TJ stretched out and enjoyed lying down. Although the roof may not be comfortable, it was far better than having to share a couch with some drunk girls who wanted to jump his bones. He didn’t keep track of how long Ronnie had been crying, but eventually, she sniffled, wiped her face with her sleeves, and pulled her hood off. 

“Do you think I made the right choice?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. TJ had to lean close to hear what she said. 

“What choice?” 

“I told the lady I didn’t want to go to Hollywood.” 

“Oh.” TJ blinked twice, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, I think you should go to Hollywood. Live the dream and sip fruity little drinks from the poolside.” 

“Is it not too late?” 

“Things have a crazy way of working out, Vee. I don’t think it’s too late to change your mind.” 

“She did give my dad a card…” 

“See? Call the lady back and tell her you’re going to Hollywood.” TJ grinned from ear to ear. “And if you do go, maybe I could take a little road trip with your friends to visit you.” 

“I never thought about that.” 

“Exactly!” 

“I should get home.” Ronnie searched for her phone. At first, TJ thought she was falling off the roof, and he panicked. 

“Wait, wait, wait. I can take you home.” 

“Nope. Calling my dad.” Ronnie stood up shakily and climbed back into the bedroom through the window. TJ followed like a puppy at her heels, a big puppy towering over her with chocolatey eyes and a dopey smile. 

Like he said, her father came to pick her up. He was practically waiting by the phone in case something happened to his daughter. TJ tripped and stumbled as he shuffled across the walkway to join Ronnie and her dad. He had only ever met James Clark once, and some girl had splashed a pink smoothie on his face because they thought he was flirting with her. But, her father didn’t mind as the tall teenage boy climbed into the back of his car, muttering thank yous and sorry for the inconvenience. 

The car ride was relatively awkward because no one was talking. A cassette tape was loaded into the dashboard compartment and played softly. The passenger side window was down, and she leaned her head out, watching the world whizz past her view. The breeze turned her face cold, but it dried the tear stains. Her father drummed his hands on the wheel to the song's beat, humming quietly. The farther they left the house, the calmer the night was. 

The small town of Stowe was relatively calm. The teenagers at the local high school may have been rowdy, but it was never too much to handle. It was a quiet town. There wasn’t much to do after the sun, and most people were content. Part of Ronnie wanted to get out of this town. It had nothing for her, but she couldn’t leave her friends behind. She wasn’t like her father, who was used to moving around. He could pack up his life and move on as if nothing mattered. But Ronnie, she wasn’t like that. By the time she came into the world, her father was no longer in the military, and her grandfather had been long since deceased. 

TJ was dropped off at Miller’s residence. He used the car ride to sober himself up as much as possible. His parents would kill him if they found out he was drunk, but there was no disguising the way he wobbled up the walkway and fumbled around looking for his keys. Ronnie’s dad waited until TJ was safely inside his house before he drove off. Ronnie’s eyes fluttered closed as the car rumbled with movement. 

Her father tried to ignore it, but she mumbled in her sleep. The decision weighed on her like a stone at the bottom of a pond, and he felt terrible that it was stressing her out so much. She was just a kid; she didn’t need to think about her future or how it would be affected if she decided against going to Hollywood. 

“Thanks, TJ…” She murmured, and her father nearly choked on his saliva. 

James didn’t want it to seem as though he wanted his daughter to make a hasty, split-second decision that would change her life, but he also didn’t want her to feel as though she was alone. He was here for her. He would do whatever she decided as long as it made her happy. James doesn’t want her to sacrifice her happiness just because she thinks it will be easier on him or her grandmother. The last thing he wanted to do was hold her back from something that could help her feel better or make her more confident. She was his pride and joy, and he didn’t want to get in the way unless it was dangerous or threatened her wellbeing. 

Ronnie roused from her slumber when the car stopped in their driveway. The key turned in the ignition, and the vehicle stopped rumbling. 

“Veronica, I love you and will never stop loving you.” 

She blinked at him curiously, rubbing her eyes. They were sore from all the crying. 

“I love you too and want to go to Hollywood.” 

She sleepily opened the passenger side door and hopped out of the truck. Her father stared at her like she had three heads. His brows shot up. Part of him wondered what she and TJ had talked about. 

“Ronnie, honey, what do you mean?” Her father followed after her once he locked the car. He was very concerned about how quickly her opinion had changed. 

“You’re coming with me, so why not?” Ronnie shrugged. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t know how exhausting packing up your life will be. You’ll freak out or possibly have a meltdown–” 

“Dad, it’ll be fine.” 

“I don’t expect you to make such a quick decision.” He sighed and ran a hand down his face. 

“Then we can talk about it tomorrow.” 

Ronnie closed her bedroom door before he could follow her inside. He leaned his forehead against the door and sighed heavily. Was she going because he wanted her to go? Did her grandmother say something to her? What was with the sudden change of heart?

In hindsight, they shouldn’t have waited until the last second to call Kelly Wainwright and tell her they had changed their minds, but they had different opinions about what was happening. Ronnie was adamant that her grandmother didn’t say anything to her, but her father was convinced that her mother spoke to his daughter about how she should embrace this crazy opportunity. Neither her father nor grandmother wanted to push her into a decision she didn’t want to make, but Ronnie stood her ground about wanting to go to Hollywood. 

“Dad! Have you seen my laptop?” Ronnie raced out of her room frantically. Her suitcase was almost packed. 

“You left it on the couch, honeybun.” Her grandmother pointed out. 

“Thank you!” Ronnie breathed as she grabbed her laptop and ran back to her room. 

Her father’s suitcase was already packed, but only because he was used to packing and traveling everywhere. He had the expertise and understanding of what to throw in his luggage. On the other hand, Ronnie was like a wild animal searching through her dresser drawers frantically for anything appropriate for the hot L.A. temperatures. She haphazardly stuffed her laptop charge with her second pair of sneakers and delicately placed the laptop over everything else. She had dozens of notebooks and her MP3 player in her carry-on bag. 

It was a hectic morning in the Clark household. 

Thankfully, her grandmother offered to look after Scout while Ronnie and James were in L.A. That was one less thing to worry about, but Ronnie still felt terrible about leaving him behind. She didn’t want to risk delaying her departure any further by bringing him along. 

Kelly greeted them at the airport and gave Ronnie a CD of Big Time Rush’s latest album so the girl could understand the band's sound. Her favorite song by far was Famous. 

Ronnie wasn’t the best at flying. Unfortunately, she had never flown in a plane and got airsick. As soon as the plane landed, she threw up. Kelly politely held her hair back and looked away, not too keen on throwing up. Although they flew on a private jet to LAX, Ronnie was sure she was not getting on a plane again. Kelly offered her water and assured her she would not get on another plane unless she wanted to. 

The rest of the journey to the Palm Woods was relatively easy. Ronnie and her dad rode in a limousine. Like a dog, she stuck her head out the window, trying to take in all the sights of Los Angeles, California, as much as possible. Every inch of space was bustling with life, unlike Stowe. Ronnie had stars in her eyes, taking blurry pictures on her phone with a grin stretching from ear to ear. She was so glad to have taken Kelly up on that offer to bring her here. 

“Okay, okay. Sit down before you hurt yourself.” Her father chuckled, trying to ease his growing anxiety because his daughter was practically hanging out the window. 

“This place is awesome! You live here year-round?” Ronnie asked Kelly, pulling her head back into the vehicle. Her hair was messed up from the wind. 

“Not entirely year-round. I go on vacation to places like Hawaii.” Kelly couldn’t help but smile and laugh. Ronnie’s excitement was infectious. 

“How could you go to Hawaii when you live here?” Ronnie’s eyes widened. “That’s like saying you go to England for the tea.” 

“Just because you’re amazed doesn’t mean everyone else is.” Her father cracked a small smile. “When you live in one place your whole life, it loses value.” 

“That’s crazy! I would never hate living here!” 

“Just wait. You might not be saying that later.” Her father had a knowing look. 

“Maybe so, but this place is so cool!” 

The car stopped before Palm Woods, and Ronnie scrambled out of her seat. She burst out of the car door like a bullet from a gun. She gasped and looked up at the tall building standing before her. It was so pretty and fancy. But the excitement soon died down when she realized she and her father would be unpacking their belongings for a while. The task was daunting and suddenly very overwhelming. 

She had momentarily forgotten how big of a change it was to go from Stowe, Vermont, to Los Angeles, California. At that moment, she realized how far she was from Callie and Addison and how she wouldn’t wake up and take Scout on his morning walks anymore. Her life had been essentially uprooted and taken from underneath her. There were all kinds of new faces that she didn’t recognize. Her father put a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched. 

“We’ll be okay.” He reassured her, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

“For now, we can worry about getting you unpacked. Tomorrow, you’ll meet Gustavo and the boys at the studio bright and early.” Kelly smiled brightly. “The bellhop is bringing up all the boxes, and I can show you to your apartment!” 

Ronnie gave her father a weary look. He was getting their luggage out of the trunk of the limo. The teen had a tight grip on the handle of her luggage as it rolled behind her through the lobby of the Palm Woods. Her eyes were glued to the floor, and she swore she could feel some people looking at her. It made her skin itch like crazy. 

Her ears perked up at the sound of jingling keys. Kelly had handed her and her father keys to the apartment. The wheel on her suitcase jammed, and she stopped in the middle of the hallway. The sides of her face were warm, and she felt as though everything was wrong yet again. She was stranded in a different state where no one knew who she was. It was most likely that no one here was friendly either, considering they were the future famous and were probably competitive. She picked up her suitcase and trudged after her father and the talent manager. She wanted to get all this unpacking over to hide herself in her room until tomorrow. Ronnie froze in the doorway. The apartment was spacious. There was some basic furniture, like a table, chairs, and a couch, but it wasn’t wild. She could only assume this was the setup in every other apartment at the Palm Woods. 

There were boxes piled by the door inside and outside, and various things were jumbled together, so they would have to be sorted. The kitchen stuff was vaguely near the kitchen area, and the living room stuff was barely in the living room. Ronnie stared at all the boxes hopelessly. There was no way the two of them could get through this in a day. Part of her was curious if Kelly would help them or if she had some other work to attend to, but when she turned around, Kelly was gone. 

“Dad?” Ronnie’s voice wavered. 

“We’ll start on the kitchen, yeah? That way, I can make dinner.” He ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re up early for work tomorrow.” 

“No, did we have to pack everything from the house?” 

“This isn’t everything.” Her father laughed. 

“Yeah, but it’s still a lot…” 

“I promise you that it only looks bigger than it is.” 

Ronnie was uncertain but nodded and pushed her shoulders back. 

While they unpacked, Ronnie put the Big Time Rush CD on the radio on the counter. Her father had suggested she bring it with them, and it came in handy. She was sure she was well acquainted with their music and style, but it was fun to listen to them. Their poppy music was very fitting for a boyband of their caliber. They kept the door open for some reason. 

There was a commotion in the hall, and Ronnie wandered curiously. She noticed a boy wearing a helmet had crashed into the boxes stacked in the apartment and half hoped that nothing in there was fragile or made of glass. His eyes sparkled when he noticed her. 

“Girl!” He shouted, getting to his feet haphazardly and brushing himself off. 

“Carlos!” Someone shouted, and soon, two other boys joined him. 

The one with a boy-next-dor type look tried to tidy up the boxes, muttering apologies quickly. The one wearing a hint of eyeliner that smelled like axe body spray gave Ronnie a look. She smiled sheepishly and backed away. One of them opened their mouth, but she closed the door in their face and pressed her back against it. The last thing she needed was to get herself involved with boys from Hollywood. That would not end well for either of them. 

Her dad picked his head up when the door shut. The sink was running, and he was busy washing the dishes before putting them away. Ronnie blew hair out of her face and sat at the kitchen island, leaning her chin in her palm. 

“Why don’t you go introduce yourself?” 

“No, I have to finish unpacking,” Ronnie responded blankly. 

“Kiddo, this stuff isn’t going anywhere.” 

“Okay, then, I don’t want to introduce myself to anyone today. I can do that tomorrow.” 

“If you don’t, I will take you around and introduce you to all those kids myself.” He half-joked, half-threatened, with a smile on his face. “I don’t want you to spend every day of your life in this apartment.” 

“I know, I know. I’ll introduce myself to people tomorrow.” 

“Good. Change can be tough, but things will improve from here on out.” 

“I hope so.” 

“Now, enough sulking. Help me put away these dishes.” 

“Ugh, fine.” Ronnie rolled her eyes with a smile. 

Maybe her music journey was just beginning, and her life could be changed for the better, but that would not be known until tomorrow. Tomorrow would change her life.

[roveinstyle]

Embrace the Comfort: Oversized Fuzzy Fleece Jackets for Ultimate Cozy-Chic Style

As the air turns crisp and the leaves begin to fall, one thing is clear: it’s fleece jacket season! This year, oversized fuzzy fleece jackets are the go-to wardrobe staple for anyone looking to stay warm and stylish. These cozy outerwear pieces are a perfect blend of comfort, practicality, and on-trend fashion, making them a must-have for the cooler months.

The Appeal of Oversized Fleece Jackets

Oversized Fuzzy Fleece Jacket on Amazon

There’s something irresistible about the feel of fleece—soft, warm, and lightweight, it’s perfect for layering without the bulk. What’s more, the oversized silhouette gives you that effortlessly cool, laid-back vibe that pairs well with just about any outfit. Here’s why you should consider adding an oversized fuzzy fleece jacket to your collection:

All-Day Comfort: The oversized fit offers room to breathe and move, allowing you to layer as needed without feeling restricted. It's like wrapping yourself in a plush blanket while still looking put-together.

Effortless Style: Whether you’re running errands, heading out for brunch, or just chilling at home, these jackets add an instant touch of cozy-chic to your look. You can throw one over leggings, jeans, or even a dress and still look polished.

Texture Play: The fuzzy, textured finish adds visual interest to your outfit, making it the perfect statement piece to elevate even the simplest basics.

How to Style Your Fleece Jacket

Styling oversized fleece jackets is easier than you think. They’re incredibly versatile, and the trick is to play with proportions and textures for a balanced look. Here are a few ideas:

Casual and Cozy: Pair a neutral-toned fleece jacket with leggings and ankle boots for an easy, off-duty look. Add a beanie and scarf for extra warmth.

Urban Street Style: For a more urban vibe, style your oversized jacket with ripped jeans, a graphic tee, and chunky sneakers. Opt for a bold color fleece to add a pop of fun to your outfit.

Feminine Touch: You can also add a feminine twist by wearing your fleece jacket over a flowy dress. Cinch it at the waist with a belt to create some definition and complete the look with knee-high boots.

Best Colors and Patterns for Fleece Jackets

While neutral shades like beige, cream, and gray are timeless options, this season’s fleece jackets also come in vibrant colors and fun patterns. Consider these trending hues:

Classic Neutrals: For an easy, everyday look that pairs with anything, stick to tones like taupe, camel, or ivory. These shades add an understated elegance to the cozy texture.

Bold Pops of Color: Want to stand out? Go for jewel tones like emerald, burgundy, or cobalt blue. These rich colors add a dynamic touch to your outerwear collection.

Fun Prints: If you’re looking to make a statement, opt for a fleece jacket in a playful pattern—think animal prints, plaids, or even abstract designs.

Sustainability and Fleece

As fashion becomes increasingly eco-conscious, many brands are offering fleece jackets made from recycled materials, like plastic bottles. These sustainable options not only keep you warm but also reduce your environmental impact. When shopping for your next oversized fuzzy fleece jacket, look for brands that prioritize sustainability to make your purchase feel even better.

Oversized Hoodies Sweatshirt on Amazon

Oversized fuzzy fleece jackets are more than just a cold-weather essential—they’re a fashion-forward piece that can elevate your fall and winter wardrobe. Whether you prefer a minimalist neutral or a bold color, this versatile jacket is a must for anyone seeking both style and comfort. So, wrap yourself in the warmth of fleece this season and step out in cozy-chic style!

[eva-knits12]

Meeting Harlan

Trigger warning: twin babies, Ransom Drysdale, multiple sclerosis, chronic illness, fluff

Summary: Harlan meets his great-grandchildren

The diaper bag was all packed with plenty of wipes, plenty of diapers, plenty of books, plenty of toys, and plenty of bottles with your pumped milk. You were sitting in the passenger's seat of the Lexus, peacefully napping. Harlan and Katherine were in their infant seats, peacefully sleeping. To say you were tired lately was an understatement. You were exhausted, and so was Ransom. Taking care of the twins was a 24/7 job, with thankless hours, thankless pay, and the days and nights were long. The twins slept for most of the time, but it seemed that every few hours, they needed a feeding, a change, or they just wanted to be held. You and Ransom couldn't be any happier, though.

Ransom was driving, and you were on your way to see Harlan. He wanted to meet his great grandchildren, and since it was a nice day that wasn't too hot or too cold, it was a nice day. It was Tuesday, and it was getting closer to the spring.

"Marta, go make sure that the door is unlocked," said Harlan.

"Of course, Harlan," said Marta.

Marta unlocked the front door, and went into the kitchen to pull out the crudites, and she got out the charcuterie board. She got out some glasses, and made sure to have bottles of water in the fridge. She started the coffee, and checked the fridge to make sure that the cold cuts and the cheese was okay. She wasn't ready to set them out yet, so she set the bread out, and set out some plates.

Eventually, you and Ransom arrive at Harlan's house. He knocks, and Harlan opens the door.

Ransom brings in the Harlan and Katherine, and then he unloads you from the car, and puts you in your wheelchair. You get some exercise with the walker and the cane by getting up and walking around every once in a while. This is just easier.

"Oh, look at the twins. They are adorable!" says Harlan.

Harlan and Katherine are in their nice, warm sleepers, and are still peacefully sleeping in their infant seats. Ransom wheels you into the house, and takes you to the living room.

You, Harlan, and Marta talk while Ransom brings in the twins. Ransom also has the diaper bag on his shoulder. Ransom takes off his camel coat to reveal that he is wearing his aran sweater, along with his pinstripe pants with his favorite loafers. You were wearing jeans and Ransom's old Harvard sweatshirt that he just can't get rid of. It's the only things you could find that haven't been spit up on. It seems that every other day, you and Ransom are doing laundry, and it feels like you just can't have enough clean clothes. Of course, the dogs did try to jump on Ransom, like they always do. Ransom has made it clear that he doesn't like dogs. He was also iffy about bringing the twins in, not knowing if they are allergic to pet dander. Marta and the maid Lois made it a point to make sure that every surface was vacuumed and that every surface was clean.

"Harlan, this is amazing, thank you." you say.

"Anything for the mother of my great grandchildren", says Harlan.

Ransom was apprehensive, to say the least. The last time he had you over, the rest of the family pulled their usual stunts. After that, Harlan refused to have them over, but you and Ransom often came over every Sunday to make a day out of it. This is the first day in a while that you have been over to Harlan's. Ransom felt it wouldn't be good idea to drive out to rural MA to Harlan's house with a pregnant wife who also had multiple sclerosis. So, Marta often drove over to you and Ransom's house.

"Are those the twins? They're so cute!" says Marta, who is looking at the twins in their infant seats.

After a while, Ransom brings the twins in, and gives them both to Harlan. Harlan holds the twins in both of his arms, and you take a picture. It's a nice moment between Harlan and the twins.

The one in the green sleeper is Harlan and the one in the pink sleeper with a matching headband is Katherine. Clever daddy. After a while, the twins cry, and Ransom goes to the diaper bag, fetches two bottles and Ransom and Harlan bottle feed the twins. You've fallen asleep again.

After a while, you wake up.

"What happened, Marta? Where are the twins?" you ask, with worry in your voice.

"The twins are fine. Ransom and Harlan are bottle feeding them right now," says Marta.

"Why didn't you wake me?" you ask.

"Look, you're a new mother. You're still tired, and still adjusting to their schedule," says Marta.

"That's true," you say.

Marta brings out the charcuterie board, and you help yourself to some fruit, crackers, and some cheese. Eventually, Marta brings out the bread, the cold cuts, mustard, and mayo. She also lays out some chips, and gets some bottles of water.

"Ransom, Harlan, I've laid out the cold cuts for lunch," says Marta.

"Thanks, Marta," says Ransom.

Ransom prepares you a sandwich, and then prepares himself a sandwich. He grabs a bottle of water for you, then a bottle of water for himself. Harlan prepares his sandwich, and grabs his water.

You, Harlan, Ransom, and Marta all talk while having your lunch. Today, you're lucky that you remembered to shower and brush your teeth.

Ransom and you check on the twins, who are in need of a change. You and Ransom take the twins to another area of the house, and change their diapers.

"Oh, look at them, Ransom. I never thought our two tiny babies would bring everyone so much love," you say.

Ransom kisses you lovingly, and he agrees.

"Harlan adores them. I never thought that I'd be a dad. I never thought I'd fall in love with someone enough to want to marry her. You changed that. You're so perfect to me, multiple sclerosis and all. I love you so much," says Ransom.

"I love you, too Ransom," you say, with tears in your eyes. Ransom meant every word of it, and you meant every word of it, too.

Eventually, it's time to leave. Ransom loads you in the car first, and loads your wheelchair in, and he loads the twins in. He drives you all home, with you and the twins peacefully napping in the car.

Ransom arrives home, and gets the twins inside. Harlan and Katherine are now in their cribs, sleeping peacefully. Ransom carries you back into the house bridal style, and places you in bed, and pulls the covers over you. Ransom falls asleep next to you. Eventually, Harlan and Katherine interrupt the peacefulness and the coziness with their hungry cries. Ransom gets two bottles of your pumped milk. Then, you both burp the twins. An hour later, they'll need a change. Just like clockwork, the twins cry again, indicating that they need a change.

Ransom decides to order Chinese for dinner, because that will make it easier for the both of you. Ransom goes to pick up the order, and he brings it back. He ordered the almond boneless chicken with the sweet and sour chicken with egg rolls.

"Ransom, thank you so much. I love you, my sweet boy. You do so much for us, you're one amazing husband," you say. Ransom's lips crash onto yours again.

You and Ransom enjoy your dinner, and you check on Harlan and Katherine, who are now sleeping in their cribs. The love that was in the Drysdale household was the best thing ever. Harlan and Katherine were the most amazing babies that you both knew. Ransom was the best husband that you ever knew.

[inatelier]

taged by super cool @qospodar-prstenova so i am totally doing this

rules: pick a song for every letter of your url and tag that many people

i - ivo pogorelich - frederic chopin; 24 preludes

n - neil young - tell me why - live at royce hal '71

a - asap rocky - black tux white colar

t - terry riley - shri camel live at holland festival '77

e - earl sweatshirt - that new album w alchemist?? its goodd

l - lcd sounsystem - new york i love you

i - inxs - mystify

e - don't really know artists on e; even earl was a stretch

r - rod steward - young turks!!

i tag all the porn blogs that follow me

[arvaelstyle]

What I wore in a week - 19-23 February 2024

Monday

Monday was an usual Monday, things were quite slow, everyone was still nostalgic about how good the weekend was. I was not in the mood for anything special either, so I wore this laid-back outfit to office. I felt really cool in it. The navy blazer and the striped soft viscose jumper are new additions to my wardrobe, so I really wanted to wear them. Also, I felt really comfortable and confident in this outfit. Although the boots are not what I would choose for office days, but sometimes its great to wear something that you would think is not appropriate.

Tuesday

Tuesday was much more busier thank Monday, I had a lot of meetings, trainings to do, so I decided to wear something more professional than on Monday. I also decided to wear basic colors black, grey and white, I only played with a striped blouse, which I think really provided the interest in the outfit. I paired it with an elegant black pair of pants and a slightly oversized grey blazer.

Wednesday

Wednesday was busy as well, needed to do a client pitch so I wanted to choose an outfit in which I feel comfortable and confident yet look professional, therefore I opted for my favorite pleated skirt which has a beautiful golden color and paired it with a collared viscose cardigan - wore it as a blouse and put a camel waistcoat on it. I wore it with a golden watch and jewelry, although I took this picture in a rush so they are missing from the picture.

Thursday

On Thursday there was a dinner after work, as I did not want to go home to get changed, I decided to wear this outfit for daytime as well. I decided to pair a high waist black satin skirt with a flowy navy satin blouse and wore pearl necklace and earrings. I also wore a sparkly jacket so that the outfit would be festive.

Friday

My favorite day of the week. I was really tired, so decided to work from home that day, but decided to wear something more decent than sweatshirt and sweatpants. I wanted to remain comfortable, so decided to wear the same pants from Tuesday with the same belt, but I wore a white T-shirt with a viscose soft jumper on top. I love how the white T-shirt neck and white sneakers pull this outfit together.

Leave me comment if you would like to!

[cleverhottubmiracle]

I’ve been slowly updating my shoe lineup for spring, and these are the pairs that ended up in my closet. It’s a mix of practical neutrals, fun textures, and a few trendier styles I just couldn’t resist. Some are already in regular rotation, while others haven’t gotten as much wear as I expected—but each one either filled a gap or gave me something new to try this season. Reformation Kyla Boat Shoe (8) // J.Crew trench (8) // LOFT stripe sweater (S) // MOTHER Dazzler (30) // FREJA Caroline // Tom Ford sunnies I realize my shoe shopping habits aren’t exactly typical—I tend to replace at least half my lineup each season—so yes, this is a lot of new shoes by normal standards! But if you’re looking to refresh your shoe collection this season, hopefully this gives you a few ideas. What’s New in My Spring Shoe Lineup For reference, I typically wear EU size 39 or US 8 to 8.5 in most shoes and boots. I often size up a half or full size in running sneakers, and occasionally size down a half size in sandals—especially slides and mules. I’ve had my fair share of foot issues over the years, so I tend to look for shoes with some support or a bit of a heel. That said, I’ll still make an exception for a cute flat sandal—I just save those for days when I won’t be doing a ton of walking. Okay, without further ado (and in no particular order), here are the shoes I added to my closet this spring! Jeffrey Campbell Boast Boat Shoes in Camel Brush at Anthropologie // at Bloomingdale’s // at Zappos also wearing: EVEREVE Shayla Pullover (M) // Vineyard Vines shorts (8) Boat shoes are having a moment this spring, and while I’ve never been especially drawn to preppy styles, I was curious to give them a try. They seemed like a practical transition shoe—something a little different from my usual loafers or driving mocs. I ordered a few styles and ended up keeping this pair from Jeffrey Campbell for more casual looks. For some reason, I especially like how they pair with shorts. I haven’t worn them as much as I expected yet, but I’m glad to have them in my closet. Hopefully I’ll reach for them more now that the weather has warmed up here in Philly. Fit Tip: These run a bit small; I sized up to an 8.5. Reformation Kyla Boat Shoe in Rum Suede at Reformation // at Shopbop also wearing: J.Crew New Icon Trench Coat (8) // LOFT stripe sweater (S) // MOTHER Dazzler (30) // FREJA Caroline I was drawn to this pair as an elevated take on the boat shoe trend; they feel more like a variation on a loafer than a true preppy boat shoe. The color leans a bit too rust for my personal taste, but the quality is excellent, and they’re incredibly comfortable. I expected to reach for them more than I have, but I’m not ready to part with them, either. They work well with a classic straight ankle jean and a nautical-style sweater, as pictured here. Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Steve Madden Verdict Mesh Sneaker in Green at Nordstrom // at DSW // at Macys also wearing: Caslon Stripe Crewneck Rib Sweater (S) // Vineyard Vines shorts (8) I wear sneakers probably more than any other shoe, and I’ve amassed quite a collection. These low-profile mesh sneakers are lightweight, breathable, and perfect for spring. I love the slip-on design—easy to throw on and go—and they come in a bunch of great colorways. Bonus: they’re super affordable, too. Fit tip: These sneakers run true to size, or size up if in between. I have the 8.5. Gola Viper Sneaker in Bone at EVEREVE also wearing: EVEREVE Bailey Stripe Grommet Sweatshirt (S) // Citizens of Humanity Palma Straight-Leg Jeans (29) // NAGHEDI Nomad Hobo in Cashmere This low-profile sneaker is incredibly comfortable, and the beige suede is a nice alternative to the traditional white leather sneaker. It still works as a neutral, but the texture and tone give it a slightly more elevated, intentional look. These are great for casual outfits when you want something easy but not too sporty. Fit Tip: These sneakers run really big—size down at least a half size. I have the 7.5. Vionic Klara in Camel at Nordstrom // at Zappos // at DSW // at Amazon also wearing: EVEREVE Jane Pullover (S) // MOTHER Dazzler Flood Fray (29) Ballet flats are another classic shoe style having a moment this spring, but they can be tricky for ladies who need support. If that is your situation, you definitely need to try this podiatrist-designed ballet flat with an orthotic footbed and a flexible, cushioned outsole. The squared-off cap toe, dainty bow, and small keyhole cutout add a touch of charm to the classic silhouette, and they are super comfortable and come in tons of colors. I especially like this camel shade; it’s a great neutral that goes with everything. Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Schutz Arissa in Brown at Nordstrom (8) also wearing: EVEREVE Gia Cowl Neck Top in Folkstone Grey (S) // MOTHER Tomcat in Cream Puffs(30) These ballet flats are super comfortable—the leather is soft and supple, and I like that they cover a good portion of the toe bed (no “toe cleavage”). They don’t offer much in the way of support, but if that’s not an issue for you, they make a great pair of everyday flats, and they’re under $100. Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Margaux The Demi Flat in Black at Nordstrom // at Margaux also wearing: Sezane Clyde Trench (6) // MOTHER Dazzler (30) // Quince Cashmere Tee (L) // similar bag For a more splurge-worthy option, these Margaux ballet flats are truly gorgeous, and I love the slender silhouette with a subtly more substantial sole and 1/2″ heel. They’re handmade in Spain from Italian nappa leather and finished with a classic grosgrain trim. The flexible leather sole, foam-padded insole, and adjustable bow make for a comfortable, customized fit. They feel amazing right out of the box, and they come in medium, wide, and narrow widths—which is always a plus. I have them in black, but I’ve been eyeing the Saddle pair too. Fit Tip: These run true to size; EU 39 fits me perfectly. Sam Edelman Bianka Slingback Pump in Buff Tan at Nordstrom // at Bloomingdale’s // at Zappos also wearing: Ming Wang Contrast Panel Sheath Dress (S) // similar bag I already have these classic slingback pumps in another color, and I find them both flattering and comfortable. Even though I don’t wear pumps often, I couldn’t resist adding this raffia version to my spring wardrobe. They’re the perfect dressy transition shoe for when it’s not quite sandal weather. (I wore them on Easter Sunday with the dress shown above.) The slingback style feels a little more modern than a traditional pump, but they serve the same purpose, and I love the subtle texture the raffia adds to an outfit. Fit tip: They run true to size, or size up if in between. I have the 8.5. Veronica Beard Via Leather Slide Sandals in Honey at Bloomingale’s // at Nordstrom // at Shopbop also wearing: cloth & stone tank (S) // AG Mari jeans (30) // rattan wrapped hoops  These sandals are a bit of a splurge, but they’re probably my most worn new shoes so far this spring—thanks to two back-to-back trips to Florida! It hasn’t been warm enough to wear them much here in Philly yet, but by the end of summer, I’m confident the cost per wear will justify the investment. They’re perfect for elevating casual outfits and pulling together dressier looks for dinners out. The honey brown leather is soft and luxe, the gold studs add a subtle edge, and they’re incredibly comfortable—no break-in period required. Fit tip: I have these in a size 8, so I’d say they run true to size, or you may want to try a half size up. (I often need a 7.5 in slides.) Sam Edelman Bambi Raffia Buckle Slide Sandal in Cuoio at Nordstrom // at Amazon // at Zappos also wearing: EVEREVE Cecilia Shirred Top (S) // MOTHER Insider (29) // Dragon Diffusion tote I’m including this pair, even though I technically bought them last spring. I stupidly donated that pair at the end of the season—then they brought them back, and I realized how much I liked them… so I bought them again this year! Yes, they’re that good. I love the raffia texture paired with the feminine scalloped detail, bold tortoiseshell buckle, and polished hardware. Plus, they’re extremely comfortable, with a padded footbed and light cushioning under the strap—and they’re under $100! Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Sam Edelman Cressa Slingback Kitten Heel Sandal at Nordstrom // at Bloomingdale’s // at Zappos // at Amazon also wearing: Ming Wang Chain Detail Sheath Dress (S) I’m never without a pair of strappy black sandals in my summer closet, and this year, these are my go-to. I like how they help bookend a look with a black top or balance out a black dress. They’re comfortable right out of the box—the straps are soft and don’t rub or cause blisters. Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Reformation Eleonora Slingback Sandal in Gold at Nordstrom // at Reformation also wearing: RAILS dress (more sizes) I always like to have a pair of metallic heeled sandals in my spring/summer wardrobe because they’re so versatile. These gorgeous leather slingback sandals have a block heel and a strappy, ‘70s-inspired upper, and the squared open toe and slingback strap give them a modern feel. They’re perfect for dressing up denim or pairing with dresses this spring and summer, and they’re extremely comfortable and high quality. Fit Tip: These sandals run true to size; I have the 8. Schutz Taliah Mid Woven Heel c/o EVEREVE // at Bloomingdale’s also wearing: Alex Mill Alexis Linen Cotton Dress c/o (M) EVEREVE sent me these heels as part of our dress collab, and I’m excited to have them in my spring lineup. They’re the perfect “barely there” heeled sandal—ideal for wearing with dresses or dressing up a denim look for date night. Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. PAIGE Jill Ankle Strap Espadrille Platform Wedge Sandal in Mahogany at Nordstrom // at Revolve also wearing: EVEREVE Camp Jacket (M) // RAILS Arlene (S) // MOTHER Roller (29) (option) My newest shoe purchase, and probably my favorite! These platform wedge sandals are perfect for pairing with full-length jeans that need a bit of height. The intertwined leather straps are so pretty (and soft!), and the platform makes the 2¼” heel feel totally walkable. No rubbing, no blisters—just a sleek, comfortable fit. They’re a bit of a splurge, but I’m confident the cost per wear will balance out over time. Fit tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Stay In Touch If you liked this post, be sure you’re signed up for my email newsletter. In addition to my most recent blog posts, you’ll receive exclusive newsletter content like special sales, my newest favorite finds, and an occasional peek behind the scenes — all delivered right to your inbox. I would also love for you to join my JLS Fashion Insiders Facebook Group! This is a friendly place to discuss all matters of fashion and style with other women, share your outfits, get advice, and stay up to date on all the happenings in our community. Source link

[norajworld]

I’ve been slowly updating my shoe lineup for spring, and these are the pairs that ended up in my closet. It’s a mix of practical neutrals, fun textures, and a few trendier styles I just couldn’t resist. Some are already in regular rotation, while others haven’t gotten as much wear as I expected—but each one either filled a gap or gave me something new to try this season. Reformation Kyla Boat Shoe (8) // J.Crew trench (8) // LOFT stripe sweater (S) // MOTHER Dazzler (30) // FREJA Caroline // Tom Ford sunnies I realize my shoe shopping habits aren’t exactly typical—I tend to replace at least half my lineup each season—so yes, this is a lot of new shoes by normal standards! But if you’re looking to refresh your shoe collection this season, hopefully this gives you a few ideas. What’s New in My Spring Shoe Lineup For reference, I typically wear EU size 39 or US 8 to 8.5 in most shoes and boots. I often size up a half or full size in running sneakers, and occasionally size down a half size in sandals—especially slides and mules. I’ve had my fair share of foot issues over the years, so I tend to look for shoes with some support or a bit of a heel. That said, I’ll still make an exception for a cute flat sandal—I just save those for days when I won’t be doing a ton of walking. Okay, without further ado (and in no particular order), here are the shoes I added to my closet this spring! Jeffrey Campbell Boast Boat Shoes in Camel Brush at Anthropologie // at Bloomingdale’s // at Zappos also wearing: EVEREVE Shayla Pullover (M) // Vineyard Vines shorts (8) Boat shoes are having a moment this spring, and while I’ve never been especially drawn to preppy styles, I was curious to give them a try. They seemed like a practical transition shoe—something a little different from my usual loafers or driving mocs. I ordered a few styles and ended up keeping this pair from Jeffrey Campbell for more casual looks. For some reason, I especially like how they pair with shorts. I haven’t worn them as much as I expected yet, but I’m glad to have them in my closet. Hopefully I’ll reach for them more now that the weather has warmed up here in Philly. Fit Tip: These run a bit small; I sized up to an 8.5. Reformation Kyla Boat Shoe in Rum Suede at Reformation // at Shopbop also wearing: J.Crew New Icon Trench Coat (8) // LOFT stripe sweater (S) // MOTHER Dazzler (30) // FREJA Caroline I was drawn to this pair as an elevated take on the boat shoe trend; they feel more like a variation on a loafer than a true preppy boat shoe. The color leans a bit too rust for my personal taste, but the quality is excellent, and they’re incredibly comfortable. I expected to reach for them more than I have, but I’m not ready to part with them, either. They work well with a classic straight ankle jean and a nautical-style sweater, as pictured here. Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Steve Madden Verdict Mesh Sneaker in Green at Nordstrom // at DSW // at Macys also wearing: Caslon Stripe Crewneck Rib Sweater (S) // Vineyard Vines shorts (8) I wear sneakers probably more than any other shoe, and I’ve amassed quite a collection. These low-profile mesh sneakers are lightweight, breathable, and perfect for spring. I love the slip-on design—easy to throw on and go—and they come in a bunch of great colorways. Bonus: they’re super affordable, too. Fit tip: These sneakers run true to size, or size up if in between. I have the 8.5. Gola Viper Sneaker in Bone at EVEREVE also wearing: EVEREVE Bailey Stripe Grommet Sweatshirt (S) // Citizens of Humanity Palma Straight-Leg Jeans (29) // NAGHEDI Nomad Hobo in Cashmere This low-profile sneaker is incredibly comfortable, and the beige suede is a nice alternative to the traditional white leather sneaker. It still works as a neutral, but the texture and tone give it a slightly more elevated, intentional look. These are great for casual outfits when you want something easy but not too sporty. Fit Tip: These sneakers run really big—size down at least a half size. I have the 7.5. Vionic Klara in Camel at Nordstrom // at Zappos // at DSW // at Amazon also wearing: EVEREVE Jane Pullover (S) // MOTHER Dazzler Flood Fray (29) Ballet flats are another classic shoe style having a moment this spring, but they can be tricky for ladies who need support. If that is your situation, you definitely need to try this podiatrist-designed ballet flat with an orthotic footbed and a flexible, cushioned outsole. The squared-off cap toe, dainty bow, and small keyhole cutout add a touch of charm to the classic silhouette, and they are super comfortable and come in tons of colors. I especially like this camel shade; it’s a great neutral that goes with everything. Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Schutz Arissa in Brown at Nordstrom (8) also wearing: EVEREVE Gia Cowl Neck Top in Folkstone Grey (S) // MOTHER Tomcat in Cream Puffs(30) These ballet flats are super comfortable—the leather is soft and supple, and I like that they cover a good portion of the toe bed (no “toe cleavage”). They don’t offer much in the way of support, but if that’s not an issue for you, they make a great pair of everyday flats, and they’re under $100. Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Margaux The Demi Flat in Black at Nordstrom // at Margaux also wearing: Sezane Clyde Trench (6) // MOTHER Dazzler (30) // Quince Cashmere Tee (L) // similar bag For a more splurge-worthy option, these Margaux ballet flats are truly gorgeous, and I love the slender silhouette with a subtly more substantial sole and 1/2″ heel. They’re handmade in Spain from Italian nappa leather and finished with a classic grosgrain trim. The flexible leather sole, foam-padded insole, and adjustable bow make for a comfortable, customized fit. They feel amazing right out of the box, and they come in medium, wide, and narrow widths—which is always a plus. I have them in black, but I’ve been eyeing the Saddle pair too. Fit Tip: These run true to size; EU 39 fits me perfectly. Sam Edelman Bianka Slingback Pump in Buff Tan at Nordstrom // at Bloomingdale’s // at Zappos also wearing: Ming Wang Contrast Panel Sheath Dress (S) // similar bag I already have these classic slingback pumps in another color, and I find them both flattering and comfortable. Even though I don’t wear pumps often, I couldn’t resist adding this raffia version to my spring wardrobe. They’re the perfect dressy transition shoe for when it’s not quite sandal weather. (I wore them on Easter Sunday with the dress shown above.) The slingback style feels a little more modern than a traditional pump, but they serve the same purpose, and I love the subtle texture the raffia adds to an outfit. Fit tip: They run true to size, or size up if in between. I have the 8.5. Veronica Beard Via Leather Slide Sandals in Honey at Bloomingale’s // at Nordstrom // at Shopbop also wearing: cloth & stone tank (S) // AG Mari jeans (30) // rattan wrapped hoops  These sandals are a bit of a splurge, but they’re probably my most worn new shoes so far this spring—thanks to two back-to-back trips to Florida! It hasn’t been warm enough to wear them much here in Philly yet, but by the end of summer, I’m confident the cost per wear will justify the investment. They’re perfect for elevating casual outfits and pulling together dressier looks for dinners out. The honey brown leather is soft and luxe, the gold studs add a subtle edge, and they’re incredibly comfortable—no break-in period required. Fit tip: I have these in a size 8, so I’d say they run true to size, or you may want to try a half size up. (I often need a 7.5 in slides.) Sam Edelman Bambi Raffia Buckle Slide Sandal in Cuoio at Nordstrom // at Amazon // at Zappos also wearing: EVEREVE Cecilia Shirred Top (S) // MOTHER Insider (29) // Dragon Diffusion tote I’m including this pair, even though I technically bought them last spring. I stupidly donated that pair at the end of the season—then they brought them back, and I realized how much I liked them… so I bought them again this year! Yes, they’re that good. I love the raffia texture paired with the feminine scalloped detail, bold tortoiseshell buckle, and polished hardware. Plus, they’re extremely comfortable, with a padded footbed and light cushioning under the strap—and they’re under $100! Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Sam Edelman Cressa Slingback Kitten Heel Sandal at Nordstrom // at Bloomingdale’s // at Zappos // at Amazon also wearing: Ming Wang Chain Detail Sheath Dress (S) I’m never without a pair of strappy black sandals in my summer closet, and this year, these are my go-to. I like how they help bookend a look with a black top or balance out a black dress. They’re comfortable right out of the box—the straps are soft and don’t rub or cause blisters. Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Reformation Eleonora Slingback Sandal in Gold at Nordstrom // at Reformation also wearing: RAILS dress (more sizes) I always like to have a pair of metallic heeled sandals in my spring/summer wardrobe because they’re so versatile. These gorgeous leather slingback sandals have a block heel and a strappy, ‘70s-inspired upper, and the squared open toe and slingback strap give them a modern feel. They’re perfect for dressing up denim or pairing with dresses this spring and summer, and they’re extremely comfortable and high quality. Fit Tip: These sandals run true to size; I have the 8. Schutz Taliah Mid Woven Heel c/o EVEREVE // at Bloomingdale’s also wearing: Alex Mill Alexis Linen Cotton Dress c/o (M) EVEREVE sent me these heels as part of our dress collab, and I’m excited to have them in my spring lineup. They’re the perfect “barely there” heeled sandal—ideal for wearing with dresses or dressing up a denim look for date night. Fit Tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. PAIGE Jill Ankle Strap Espadrille Platform Wedge Sandal in Mahogany at Nordstrom // at Revolve also wearing: EVEREVE Camp Jacket (M) // RAILS Arlene (S) // MOTHER Roller (29) (option) My newest shoe purchase, and probably my favorite! These platform wedge sandals are perfect for pairing with full-length jeans that need a bit of height. The intertwined leather straps are so pretty (and soft!), and the platform makes the 2¼” heel feel totally walkable. No rubbing, no blisters—just a sleek, comfortable fit. They’re a bit of a splurge, but I’m confident the cost per wear will balance out over time. Fit tip: These run true to size; I have the 8. Stay In Touch If you liked this post, be sure you’re signed up for my email newsletter. In addition to my most recent blog posts, you’ll receive exclusive newsletter content like special sales, my newest favorite finds, and an occasional peek behind the scenes — all delivered right to your inbox. I would also love for you to join my JLS Fashion Insiders Facebook Group! This is a friendly place to discuss all matters of fashion and style with other women, share your outfits, get advice, and stay up to date on all the happenings in our community. Source link

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Cynthia Erivo has mastered wearing green, having worn the color in various shades and styles for over a year. While her constant use of green may have initially been driven by the promotion of her role as Wicked’s Elphaba, it appears that her fondness for the color runs deeper. Cynthia undoubtedly stuns in green, though the repetition is beginning to feel a bit overdone. Despite this, it appears she can’t quite shake her fondness for the color as she showed up in another green ensemble outside the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in New York City. Cynthia Erivo greets her fans outside the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in New York City wearing a green ensemble that mixes streetwear and elegance on April 1, 2025 (Credit: Roger Wong / INSTARimages) Let’s look at her off-duty style and see how she combines streetwear and elegance effortlessly. Sporty in Green Sporty & Rich Sweatsuit I love how Cynthia mixed sporty and chic elements in this look. She paired a green sweatsuit with a camel coat and nude boots, creating a stylish and comfy ensemble. Erivo exuded laid-back chic in Sporty & Rich’s Ivy League sweatshirt, priced at $165 at Net-a-Porter. It’s made from a pre-shrunk cotton jersey, ensuring a comfortable, relaxed fit, with retro athletic styling elements giving it an authentically vintage appeal. It features a New York Health and Wellness Club logo with the year 1994 at the back and left chest and ribbing at the cuffs, collar, and hem, as typical in sweatshirts. Cynthia opted to layer a white long-sleeved top underneath the sweatshirt. The top’s sleeves peeked out from the sweater’s cuffs, adding depth and dimension to the outfit while paying homage to the classic preppy style often associated with Ivy League colleges. Cynthia Erivo wears a green Sporty & Rich sweatsuit with retro athletic styling elements, including a New York Health and Wellness Club logo embroidery (Credit: Roger Wong / INSTARimages) She wore the matching Sporty & Rich NY 94 tapered sweatpants for her bottoms, which cost $175 at Net-a-Porter. They’re also cut from a green cotton jersey and have the same retro branding at the hip. The pants are finished with an elastic waistband and hem, creating a relaxed and comfy profile. Cynthia scrunched her pants to her midcalves, tucking the hemlines into a pair of $32 white Alo Yoga Throwback Socks. This styling choice gives the look a street-style vibe, with the socks’ classic stripes adding a touch of retro inspiration. Blinged Out Streetwear Style Erivo’s outfit included several jewelry pieces, highlighting her love of maximalism. She sported multiple multi-sized necklaces with large pendants, large hoop earrings, and tiny hoop earrings down her helix. She also added some of her signature pieces, including a diamond nose ring, statement rings, and bejeweled nails. This bold accessorizing created a hip-hop-inspired look, further accentuating the streetwear vibe of the outfit. Injecting a dash of glamour into the ensemble, Cynthia wore gold-rimmed sunglasses with ombre lenses. Cynthia Erivo enhances her streetwear with long gold chain necklaces, hoop earrings, and a nose ring (Credit: Roger Wong / INSTARimages) Elevating Streetwear Style with a Camel Coat and Matching Casadei Boots Many people, including me, hesitate to mix casual pieces like sweatpants with more sophisticated items, like coats and boots, but Cynthia Erivo does it effortlessly. She teamed her green sweatsuit with a camel suede coat and stiletto boots, lending a polished sophistication to the overall look. Her effortless blending of styles is a clear testament to her fashion prowess. With its slouchy style, wide collar, and lapels, her coat gives off a cozy and comfortable feel. The large buttons down the front, cuffs, and epaulets add a stylish touch, while the neutral color matches perfectly with her nude boots, creating a cohesive ensemble. Cynthia Erivo lends polished sophistication to her green sweatsuit with a camel suede coat and nude leather Casadei ankle boots with platforms and stiletto heels (Credit: Roger Wong / INSTARimages) Erivo wore the Casadei “Flora” boots, crafted in Italy from supple stretch Nappa leather, making them comfortable for day-to-evening wear. These slip-on ankle boots feature pointed toes, 1.5-inch platforms, and 5.5-inch towering stiletto heels, creating the illusion of elongated legs. It’s no surprise that Cynthia Erivo chose Casadei boots to complete her look—celebrities often gravitate toward the Italian brand for its distinctive style, high-quality craftsmanship, and luxury appeal. Known for its iconic Blade heel, Casadei continues to be a red carpet and street style favorite. You can shop the latest from Casadei at Farfetch. Stepping Out in Style: Celebrities Who Love Casadei Boots Casadei boots have become a staple for many celebrities, showcasing the brand’s blend of luxury and edgy design. Here are some standout moments: Olivia Palermo’s Fashion Week Statement Event: Milan Fashion Week Outfit: Olivia Palermo turned heads in a Max Mara sweater dress paired with Casadei’s Superblade Narcissist over-the-knee boots. Footwear: The glossy patent leather boots featured the brand’s signature 4-inch steel Blade heels, adding a contemporary edge to her ensemble. More Details: Olivia Palermo’s Casadei love affair at Milan Fashion Week Gwen Stefani’s Edgy Ensemble Event: Kids’ Choice Awards Outfit: Gwen Stefani embraced her signature punk-rock style with a bold mini skirt and fishnet stockings. Footwear: She completed the look with black suede over-the-knee boots from Casadei, adding a sultry edge to her appearance. More Details: Gwen Stefani’s bouquet era with Casadei boots Hailee Steinfeld’s Daring Look Event: Billboard Music Awards Outfit: Hailee Steinfeld made a bold statement in a shimmering silver metal-accented dress by David Koma. Footwear: She paired the revealing dress with Casadei’s ‘Techno Blade’ over-the-knee boots, emphasizing her daring fashion sense. More Details: Hailee Steinfeld’s shimmering ensemble with Casadei boots Cara Delevingne’s Superhero Chic Event: Warner Bros’ CinemaCon Presentation Outfit: Cara Delevingne exuded superhero vibes in a green cape-sleeved mini dress from Barbara Bui. Footwear: She complemented the look with black suede Casadei thigh-high boots featuring the brand’s signature blade heels. More Details: Cara Delevingne’s superhero-inspired look with Casadei boots Jennifer Lopez’s Photocall Fashion These moments underscore Casadei’s enduring appeal among celebrities, offering designs that seamlessly blend bold statements with classic elegance. Source link

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Zeagoo Women Sweatshirts Half Zip Pullover Fleece Sweatshirt Sweaters Raglan Sleeves Hoodies Tunics for Womens 2024, Camel XXL