#chanel rare bag

[msterpicasso]

@lanaposh

[trillionairedemeanor]

kemarilyn

[muntitled]

𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 | 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐧

Hazel Callahan x F!Reader

Summary: "Jesus, dude, do you know what it means when a gay girl says they wanna have a "slumber party?"

Warnings: Hyper Feminine!Reader, Language, Fluff, Jealousy, Humor, Reader has a crush, Confessions, Teasing, Smut (+18, Minors DNI), Dom!Hazel, Humping, Grinding, Masturbation, Pillowprincess!Reader tbh, Thigh Riding, Public sex, Risky Sex, Massive Degradation Kink, Power Play, Ownership Kink?, Praise Kink, Slight!Hate sex ♡

Part two >

Hazel Callahan was rarely included into anything vaguely external, she would venture to say that she was even rarely included in her own thoughts. Therefore, infuriatingly, painfully aloof Hazel thought nothing of the invite you had presented to the entire group at Fight Club.

Why should she feel special?

Things like this seldom warranted her definite response, so when all the girls had affirmed their attendance, Hazel was... discombobulated to find a silence of anticipation growing pregnant in the gym.

It took a sharp stab in the ribs from PJ for Hazel to swing her head back into this specific reality in the space-time continuum. A reality in which you sat adjacent to her in a circle, legs crossed dainty underneath you to better accommodate the neatly pressed pleads in your pink skirt. There was nothing remarkably profound from you carrying yourself like the pretty princess you thought you were, what strikes Hazel as odd, however, was the look of expectancy in your dark eyes- a look you directed at… her?

"What?"

"You're coming? To my slumber party tonight?" you reiterate stifling the need to pat down at your braids corralled into a pink headband. You are basking under the scrutiny of her gaze but you also happened to suffer under it too. The longer Hazel watched you with furrowed brows, and her knee propped up to her chest, the longer you keened forward as if desperate to hear her say-

"Of course she's coming," PJ once again injects herself in between the two of you. "We'll all be there," You're perhaps nodding at PJ and Josie but your eyes are unable to leave the absolute prison that Hazel has them in. She does nothing except nod as well, before leaving you to your clique who all sit prettily under clouds of Chanel number 5.

The interaction replayed within the confines of Hazel's head throughout the rest of the school day. Right up until she finds herself, nestled in a car with Josie and PJ, taking the short drive in the more affluent neighbourhood from her place to yours.

"So, Hazel," the lascivious tone in PJ's voice already has her rolling her eyes as the car slows before an egregious house. "Are you ready to lose your virginity tonight?"

"Jesus Christ-" Murmurs Josie before PJ assumes what is expected to be your tone of voice- only its a hyperbolic and a higher in pitch reenactment of the real thing.

"Oh Hazel! I'd really like for you to come to my slumber party tonight!" All three girls leave the car as PJ continues her comedic display of seduction as she brushes up against Hazel and says "I really want you at my slumber party."

Hazel laughs as PJ grabs a hold of her upper arm, exposed from her open black button up and tank top. "You're coming right?" PJ sobers up as she says, "That's hot girl speak for "You're going to be cumming inside me-"

Josie does not keep her eyes off the approaching house as she interjects with, "Girls can't cum in other girls"

"Wow!" Hollers PJ, "-And here I was thinking you actually believed that girls can do everything that guys can do-"

"Wait," Hazel's eyes are on her shoes as she readjusts her tote bag and says, "You think she actually wants to like... fuck?" She lowers her voice drastically in the wake of making it up to your front door as she bends and reiterates, "Like actually fuck me?"

There is, frankly no time for Hazel to get a firm response on such a discombobulating thought because you quickly open the front door, and your skin is glowing everywhere from being completely exposed in your pink satin shorts and matching camisole set. Your hair is still loose as it frames your face- your round and constantly smiling face. Why had Hazel never noticed you until now?

Perhaps she did.

Perhaps she negated the possibility of forming a crush on you because you appeared so painfully… straight?

But here you are, smiling at her and only her. Your eyes had been bright at the sight of Hazel and her button up and how outrageously attractive she looked in a tank top but your smile dims significantly when you peer down at PJ'S hand still wrapped around Hazel's forearm.

"H-Hey," Said Hazel, with her voice that reminded you so vividly of a midnight snowstorm,

"Hey," you replied back, quickly turning away. Your mood had already been cemented for the rest of the evening. Despite it being your slumber party, you let your best friend host while you continued to wallow in the regret of your own unshakeable feelings. You hated that PJ and Hazel were very clearly a couple, but what you hated perhaps more, was that you still wanted her. You stole longing glances at her in your space, lazing on your bed while the rest of you sat encircled on the floor in sleeping bags. Hazel completely hijacked your entire brain throughout all the games and activities.

You had lost yourself in her presence and that only kicked up a notch when you felt a pair of forearms lazily splay onto your shoulders from above. With your bum still on the floor and your back against the foot of your bed, Hazel had decided to humour her turn in Truth or Dare. While she answered, she let her legs frame your body. So that it swung over the side of the bed, perfectly framing your sides.

Breathing had been impossible. So impossible in fact, you didn't know it was your turn until it took Hazel bringing her lips down to your ear. Your nerves had been shot to hell as she whispered, "Dove, it's your turn."

You cursed this idea and you cursed this wretched slumber party.

Luckily, It passed by in a significant blur that left you still riding on the high of being in Hazel's personal space until bedtime at 1am. While the girl's drifted into their own sleep, your eyes remained on the pink chandelier hanging from your ceiling while you cradled your stuffed frog to your chest. No matter how hard you try, sleep is a difficult thing to come by. You are left to your thoughts of the girl sleeping on the floor, while gentle snores sounded in the room.

"Fuck," you almost instinctively mutter as you find your hand drifting past your navel. You spread your leg ever so slightly before pushing your hand into your underwear. The quicker you came, the quicker your body could finally be allowed to slip into actual slumber. It sounded like a solid plan, and you had already taken to grinding your wet cunt against your hand- until it all went to hell and your duvet is being pulled slightly off of you.

You're quick to remove your hand and grab a hold of your covers as your eyes snap open to stare at the silhouette above you. Hazel's hair is a spectacular mess on her head and her skin shines orange from the glow of your salt lamp.

"Let me in," she whispers, not really waiting for a response before she's forcing herself into your covers, scooching you on the right side of the bed.

"What are you-"

"Shh," it's embarrassing, how quick you are to snap your mouth shut and heed her commands. Hazel's stomach warms significantly at how docile you are and she smiles as she says, "I cant sleep and I had the vague suspicion that you couldn't either." Hazel says, propping her exposed forearm under her head as she looks up at your ceiling. Her button up is discarded somewhere in the room, leaving her in basketball shorts and a tank but you're not complaining. Not at all.

"I told myself I'd be more intentional with my actions, and my actions are telling me to kiss you right now, but my feelings are telling me you might not want that." You're corraled into stark and naked shock as you watch the girl you've always wanted, confess to you in your bed. It feels unreal. The longing stares, the hours you've spent writing amatuer poetry in your notes app about her, the amount of times you made yourself cum with her heavy on your mind.

This does not feel real.

"Jesus," your voice is uncharacteristically coarse as you rush to say, "Dude, do you know what it means when a gay girl says they wanna have a "slumber party."

Hazel appears stunned as she watches you with wide eyes, "Well yeah," Says Hazel, "but… do you know what it means?"

"I've liked you since junior year," Your confession has her mind going hazy as she tries to recall all the subtle hints which she effortlessly discarded as you just being kind.

"God, you're such an idiot!" You release a chuckle that momentarily stirs a sleeping girl laying closest to the bed in her sleeping bag.

"Shh," Hazel's finger is pressed softly to her lips, you nod slowly only able to process mimicking her own actions.

"What were you doing just a second ago?" She says, swiftly removing the attention from her and her stupidity, replacing the atmosphere instead, with something much more dangerous. There's a difference in her whispers, a tone that has you melting into the covers as you unconsciously squeeze your legs shut. In this moment, she could ask anything of you, and you would simply comply. The silence stretches like honey between the two of you, and Hazel watches with doe eyes as you sink into your shame.

"You don't have to say anything." She finally whispers back, freeing you from your internal damnation but not completely letting you off the hook as she continues: "Just move your hips for me." It was an aggressively passive instruction that exploded a bundle of charged electricity between your legs. You are trapped in a distinctly uncomfortable position between wanting to comply, but wanting to be stubborn. The discomfort of these emotions are not entirely unwanted.

"Do you want me to show you how?" There is a challenging glint in her eyes that simulates the peroration of whatever the hell this is that you are both about to do.

This non-relationship which is so innately a relationship.

"Yeah." Your voice rocks with the signs of an oncoming tempest alerting your body to the possibility of something very, very exciting on the horizon.

Time and space seems so few and far in-between as Hazel keeps you arrested in those blue, endless hues. Examining her features keeps your wanton, unwinding nerves chaotically at bay. There is an intense exchange of control as Hazel shuffles closer, until her head is resting on your pillow and your both breathing into each other's parted lips.

She almost restlessly sets her palm onto your body, her hands on a slow path down your hips. It gives you a sliver of control knowing that bubbling behind her dilated pupils is a need that haunts her just as greatly.

"I'm gonna show you, okay?" She does not need to repeat herself but you recognize her words for what they are: masked behind the excitement and the charged atmosphere, is a real, and genuine need for consent.

The very moment you hopped over this threshold, you would forever be locked in a world anew. There would be no take backs. Your actions would forever be transcribed on the sacred tablet of our shared history.

"Are you going to show me, Hazel?" Desire is seated comfortably on top of your lungs and you speak only in soft pants, "Because it really feels like you're all bark and no bite."

There is a flash of excitement that sweeps momentarily over her lidded lustful gaze.

Her hands are much more sure of themselves as they lock into your sides, her fingers digging rudely into your silk pyjama bottoms.

"Shouldn't you be taking those off?" You ask cheekily.

A scoff slips through her lips as she shifts just a tad closer, her face now centimetres from yours. "You're awfully needy." Hazel whispers, "It's incredibly embarrassing."

What would prove to be even more embarrassing is the jarring way your hips stutter the very moment those words leave Hazel's lips. Your accidentally whorish slip up might have gone unnoticed were it not for the annoying fact that her right leg was seated quite cosily between your legs.

"Shut up," is all you manage to say - a desperate attempt at scrambling for your dignity crumbling in the bed between you.

Hazel laughs airly. Slowly, her hands at your hip begin to move, subsequently allowing your hips to move. A soft and slow moan passes through your lips, drowned out by the sound of sleeping girls as your eyes flutter shut.

"Hey," Hazel's lips are fully touching yours now, "Look at me." She could've never anticipated how the fucked out look in your eyes could ever make her feel. Your eyebrows are curved, as if you're in pain as you hump slowly against her thigh. The coarseness of the silk and her thigh pressing against your aching cunt… it makes everything feel so overwhelmingly real, unmarred by great expectations. The thump of her heart underneath your palm is so incredibly real. The beads of sweat growing pregnant on her forehead are real. Her dry, parted lips pressed against yours is in fact real.

"What are you thinking about?" It strikes you then that you had been a muddled, mindless haze, humping against her thigh with an urgency.

"I'm thinking about you." You reply, truthfully.

"Good things, I hope?" It is so unimaginable, the way her voice is able to remain so incredibly steady while yours is as shaky as a walrus thumping across an icy lake.

"I don't suspect anyone has ever had a single good thought about you." You shoot back and the fingers gripping your hips lock tighter, nearly prompting you to apologise.

The only other option left for you to exhaust is clamping your mouth shut as Hazel's hand assumed a much more aggressive administration. She grips on the plush skin at your sides with an unnecessary hardness, as if she wanted to tear in into you.

"See, I was gonna fuck you," it is absolutely shameful, the whimper that escapes your lips, "But now I'm gonna make you hump my leg like the slutty little girl you are." Before you could scold her, or perhaps violently disagree, rudely, before your cries of indignation could ever be forced out, Hazel is lifting you up from your side of the bed, her head shifting until her brown curls cover your pillow fully.

She turns onto her back, never releasing eye contact as she forces you down so you're straddling her steepled knee. The new position leaves you searching for a new anchor.

"Your hands are pushing down on my hair-" she grumble-whispers.

"If you'd let me finish faster that wouldn't be as much of a problem now, would it?" Hazel's response, in lieu of her thoroughly unimpressed face, had been to grind her thigh further against your core, eliciting a wanton, broken moan into the air.

"You're gonna have to be quiet, Dove." Her voice is gravel, "Wouldn't want anyone seeing how much of my whore you are, would you?" The sound of your own moans slam back into you as you press your pussy incredibly closer to her leg.

"Imagine what they might think of you? Our little star pupil getting herself off on my leg? Is that really all it takes to please you?" Staying quiet had become an unimaginable feat, a mountain that becomes even more difficult to surmount when Hazel's eyes search frantically over your crippling form for a trigger that might send you over the edge.

You couldn't begin to imagine how powerful she must feel watching your hips move wantonly on her thigh while your hooded eyes displayed desperation.

You feel so thoroughly hers, a previous existence in which you went without her hard ministrations guiding you to orgasm felt completely in vain. You want nothing more than to be so incredibly good to her, and the thought that she might want the same way sends you to an early grave.

"You're doing so well, Baby. Keeping going." An embarrassing wave of pleasure ripped straight through your spine leaving a trail of shivers in its wake. There is no mistaking that your reaction to her praise and her validation had not gone unnoticed.

Your pussy is completely soaked against her leg, burdened with the knowledge that it wants something but it didn't exactly know what.

"I need you," you whisper. Before your own shame might wave away the pleasure, you are delighted at the moan that slips through Hazel's parted lips.

You had been so thoroughly enamoured by your own pleasure, you had not stopped to consider hers. The pillow princess stereotype brought with it a wave of shame as you looked down and found her hips stuttering slowly against yours.

"I'm right here, Dove."

And you both began to melt for each other. Your legs are tangled in one another while her thigh is pressed against your clit at the same time your thigh is pressed between her legs as well.

You are pleasantly surprised when you begin to feel the fabric of Hazel shorts moving against your own legs slotted in between her. You didn't have to picture how gloriously lecherous it might have looked, using each other so blatantly to fulfil a need that had begun simmering since forever. "Oh fuck, you're so pretty," her hand finds purchase against your breast, tweaking your nipples until they hardened against the camisole while her other hand was comfortably gripping your jaw, staring up at you with lustful eyes.

"You don't even know how perfect you look right now," you did not speak a word of a lie. Watching Hazel's long and domineering form writhing underneath you is a mental image you wish to keep stored in your chest of sacred memories forever. It is discombobulating, watching someone so used to walking so tall and unbothered, being made a complete mess underneath you.

You never wanted this moment to end.

"I want you to kiss me." She croaks, despite already bringing your face close to hers by the strength of a single grip. Her eyes search yours for something. You only hope that grinding yourself even faster against her leg is a testament to whatever it is she might've been looking for. Soon, her lips crash onto yours. When Hazel Callahan kisses, she kisses sloppily and disastrously as if she wanted to swallow you whole before you ever thought of escaping. Her lips are all encompassing, her tongue is restless, pushing itself into your mouth with avid determination.

You moan softly into her mouth. A sound she appreciates greatly given the way her hips began to move against your thigh with a matching ferocity. Her hand slithers along your back, until she cups a handful of your ass, dragging your pussy once again against her, at her desired pace.

Rough. Arresting. Frantic.

"You're being too loud," She sighs, breaking away from your lips to trail them down your neck. "You're being too fucking loud-"

"Fuck, Hazel I'm close-" Your legs are locked against hers but the hand on your ass keeps your hips moving by proxy. "I'm so close."

"You're gonna cum for me, Dove?"

"Oh God, I love it when you call me that-" There is an embarrassing pool of wetness accumulated between your legs, dripping through your shorts and onto her skin. She is equally as wet and that fact only spurs you on.

"I need you to cum for me, baby?" Her stuttering hips told you her own release is dangerously close, sitting on the horizon. Perhaps your orgasm had bled into something prideful, her need to make you cum first caused her to delay her own release.

"You're fucking unbelievable." You sigh with troubled realisation.

She uncovers herself from your chest, panting heavily without her hips ever stopping. "You're gonna cum first, okay?" She nods, persuading you to mimic her movements because despite everything, you are putty in her hands.

"Okay."

As she kisses you once more her hand travels back to your now exposed boob. Between your kiss, Hazel had somehow managed to haphazardly lift your camisole enough to expose your breasts.

A straggled sound leaves the back of your throat as your orgasm crested.

She succeeded in making a mess of you. Your hair had been set free, braids spilling like wild snakes down your torso.

"Oh God, oh fuck-" a hand slaps over your mouth. Hazel's eyes are wide as she continues to guide your hips to release.

"Such a good little Dove, aren't you?" Your eyes are blown with stars and pixie dust as you nod drunkenly. She's humping your thigh and you're humping hers and soon the orgasm sneaks up on you, stealing your breath right from inside your lungs. Your strangled moan is muffled by her palm.

Her eyes take it all in with a very certain hunger, drifting from watching her own hips grinding your thigh, to the choked expression of utter euphoria splashed against your face.

"Fuck, baby." Her Eyebrows knot as her breathing picks up. The pressure visibly building across her face is nearly enough to send you back into your pool of euphoria.

"Oh fuck- oh baby," The wave of pleasure that courses through her is violent and incredibly validating. It is you who had gotten her to this point, humping your leg so desperately as if it might be the only thing she could ever hope to achieve. For someone who had built such a notable reputation for always mainting an I-dont-give-a-fuck mentality, this feels like an immense achievement for you.

Once the smoke clears, and Hazel finds herself back on planet earth, the relics of her euphoria register as intermittent aftershocks. The dawn of what you had just done begins to settle and almost instinctively, you revert to your teasing.

"How nice of you to finally join us," you are still hovering above her, her long neck craning to look at you.

"You talk a lot of shit for someone who squeaks when she cums."

The dampness between your legs is a reminder. "You're gonna learn to take just as much as you give sooner or later," You don't miss the hint of a promise thinly veneered along that whisper. Choosing to ignore the fluttering in the pit of my stomach at the sound of it alone, you climb off of her and back to your space on the bed.

"What's its name?" Hazel asks, peering into the darkness to bring your stuffed frog back into your arms. "You strike me as someone who gives their stuffed toys names."

You're still out of breathe as you reply, "Texas,"

She cracks a smile at that. Before you can finally drift off, a hand slips across your hip, trailing over your torso before brushing over your breast and staying there. "I'm gonna buy you one...I wanna watch you hump it like you just did my leg okay?"

All you're able to do is nod.

[richarlotte]

Best places to shop designer?

If you love vintage, look at Japan. Especially for vintage Louis Vuitton bags & cases.

It’s affordable, it’s easy to find and fun to shop for, and it’s actually a great time sourcing pieces. I’ve never spent more than $400 on a piece, and everything I’ve bought has been high quality. I’ve bought some dream pieces of mine, and part of what makes the process so fun is taking the time to find what you want. I bought my Croissant, my Speedy 30, my Pochette, Holdall, Toiletry Bag, and Neverfull for less than $300 each, and aside from conditioning the leather, they’re in perfect condition. I’d strongly recommend looking at Japan’s vintage market if you love Louis Vuitton.

Japan is pretty much the best place to look for any designer items, and the vintage market is the best I’ve ever experienced. The yen is also weak compared to the American dollar, so you’re getting more while spending less. I’ve seen a lot of really nice Chanel and Fendi as well; the more popular bags tend to be bought quickly, but it’s easy to find them, and it’s easier to find rare items on the Japanese retail market than it is to find them on the American market. It’s also very easy to find Hermès scarves and other small items; I love buying small things, and I’m not willing to spend $700 on something I can easily find on the Japanese market for $70. It takes skill but again, the hunt is always fun.

I will say that there are brands I’d avoid and certain stores as well. All of my bags have come with receipts and certifications of authenticity that have held up to the authentication process I put them through here in America. The one thing I’d recommend against purchasing is badly made costume jewelry; it’s not worth it at all, and Chanel costume jewelry is very cheaply made and then marked up to obscene prices. I can make a post about where to shop, what’s trendy and what I’d recommend buying, customs/paying, and how I style the things that I’ve purchased so far. Just let me know, and I'll write a guide up when I have time. 

Let me know if you’d like any of my shopping recs.

[hrrtshape]

DAY IN THE LIFE — fame dr 'CHILL DAY' edition

⋆ 8:30 AM – rise and shine in my gorgeous, light-filled apartment overlooking the pulse of paris near the opera garnier. the sun filters through elegant french windows as i slide out of bed in that loewe "i told ya" t-shirt (reference to challengers and jfk jr, hello????). making make a fresh coffee, lounging back on your plush couch with a journal in hand.

⋆ 9:15 AM – time for makeup, and the morning glow-up begins. walking to the pristine, marble-tiled bathroom, as i start with dior prestige la micro-huile de rose for that lit-from-within radiance. next, dior forever skin veil SPF 20 goes on as primer, adding a layer of sheer perfection. then comes the dior forever glow foundation, finished with a touch of YSL touche eclat for a much needed radiance, especially after that...uh, shameful night of over-sweetened margaritas.

bronzed with chanel les beiges healthy glow, cheekbones looking enviable and effortless. i sweep hermès' rose hermès silky blush across my cheeks for that subtle parisian flush. for eyes, it's the dior 5 couleurs couture palette in soft browns with a little extra shimmer from chanel's LES 4 OMBRES for that delicate, specific victoria secret's look. IDUN mineral's SILFR mascara and charlotte tilbury pillow talk lip liner with gucci rouge à lèvres voile lipstick to finish my look.

⋆ 10:00 AM – curls brushed and outfit on: bootleg jeans, chloé paddington boots, a fitted red knit sweater, and a vintage MIU MIU bag – a look straight out of a pinterest moodboard.

⋆ 11:00 AM – i slip out of my apartment, making my way to BO&MIE near the louvre. i grab a warm, flaky pain au chocolat (because we all need sweet treats in our lives) and a chai latte to go, the perfect balance of cozy and sweet. it’s a quiet sunday, and i take this little ritual down to the seine, settling on a bench to take in the morning lull. imogen heap playing softly in earbuds, a dreamy soundtrack to the sounds of paris waking up around.

⋆ 12:00 PM – i begin a gentle wander through the 1st and 2nd arrondissements, where sunday flea markets pop with trinkets, vintage finds, and that peculiar magic only parisian markets can hold. perusing tables with glimmering jewelry and rare books, picking up an old poetry collection that catches the eye, and maybe a tiny golden charm to hang off my bag or to gift a friend. a few fans recognise me, some shy and some thrilled, and i lean in for pictures with a warm, “i don’t bite!!!!!” 🫶

⋆ 1:30 PM – meeting a friend at VESPER, diving into sushi and cocktails that match the chicness of the moment. the laughter, the cocktails, the buzz makes everything feel light and sparkling. by the time we're done, i've had a few (as per), feeling just woozy enough to make the walk interesting.

⋆ 3:20 PM – with a bottle of water to balance out those cocktails, i head over to the musée de l’orangerie. monet’s water lilies are a calming spell – the colours, the quiet of the museum – all washing over, letting everything slow down for just a beat. besides the previous alcohol makes everything just a bit more technicolour.

⋆ 4:00 PM – galeries lafayette calls, and i'm in for a mini treat. picking out a new lip gloss, maybe a rich red or muted mauve, and stop by ladurée to snag some macarons. meanwhile, phone is buzzing; it’s thé manager, with urgent texts about an absolutely irresistible film offer.

⋆ 5:00 PM – meeting up with another friend, slipping into the comfortable flow of wandering conversation, stopping at a small, antique café for tea. the macarons make a reappearance, and it’s that kind of timeless paris afternoon – where you can talk about everything and nothing and let hours drift by.

⋆ 7:00 PM – friend heads out, leaving me alone at the café. perfect for pulling out a journal, pouring out poems, song drafts, and a little doomscrolling (because even in paris, i'm only human).

⋆ 8:00 PM – dinner with a close circle, back in the spotlight with cocktails, laughter, and some elegant dishes.

⋆ 10:40 PM – finally back in my apartment, the curls loosened, phone nearly dead, and the soft hush of a small headache as the city quiets. i slip into something cozy, nestle into bed with a new book, and drift off feeling like me and paris are all alone together, back to where the day began – calm, sweet, and wholly mine <3

[thebetawolfgirl]

The Chanel Ribbon: The Wedding

Word count: 1,858

Pairing: Timmy x reader

Summary: Timmy finally marries the woman of his dreams.

Warnings: SMUT! And just pure joy, a bit of laughter and a bit of teary eyed sweetness!

The Chanel Ribbon: The Wedding

Timothée had finally proposed to his beloved y/n and they finally engaged from last month. They were sitting at home discussing wedding plans while laying on the sofa. It was proving to be difficult, because both sides of the respective families all had their opinions and suggestions about what kind of wedding they should have. One of y/n’s cousins thought they should have a big lavish wedding, an old aunt thought they should get married in a church, but although Timmy was half Christian on his dad’s side he didn’t practice.

So they had shut the curtains, switched off the phones and laptops and any other form of communication and shut everyone out.

They were currently talking about their all time favourite movie, as a break from the wedding talk.

‘We should’ve just eloped as soon as we got engaged.’ Timmy suddenly joked from his spot behind her.

Y/n chuckled but her head suddenly began to spin with ideas.

‘You’re hilarious Chalamet, but your mother would kill you.’

‘True. And if Pauline would help bury my body’ he got up asking if she wanted anything from the kitchen he shook her head no going back to her magazine.

But when he disappeared she quickly messaged Mark and asked him to do some things for her. It was a long shot but if anyone could help her with this particular thing it was his father. She sent the message and got a response almost instantly. She wrote down the information given and put it away until she perfected her plan.

Timmy came back in with some snacks and cans of soda and she smiled. ‘I said I didn’t need anything’

‘Yes but if I had just came back with snacks for me you would’ve be eating them all’ she rolled his eyes and grabbed a bag of chips.

‘Listen, I was just thinking, let’s go away for a few days. Just us, you’ll be doing SNL soon then we won’t have time. I think a few days off will be good.’

He nodded as he turned on the tv pulling her against him. ‘That’s actually a good idea, where abouts were you thinking?’

‘Hmm… How about France? Just to get away from all this stress and we can just relax.’ She looked at him nodding while watching tv.

‘We could get our own villa, with a swimming pool and I could wear that new bathing suit I bought.’

His head snapped towards her his entire attention on his fiancée now. ‘I haven’t had the chance to wear it for you with all of this going on.’

‘Uh-huh’ He watched crawl closer to him.

‘I could bring it and I could try it on-‘

‘I’ll book the tickets now’ she smiled as he grabbed his phone and started looking for early flights to France. The snacks were forgotten on the coffee table as he concentrated on his phone.

She went to move off him and he looked up frowning and whined like an injured puppy. ‘Heyyy’ he made to drag her back but she moved away. ‘I need to pack and I’ll let your parents and sister know we’re taking a few days off, then I’m all yours.’ She walked past him kissing him on the head as she did and hopped upstairs quickly texting Pauline telling her everything about her idea and for her and her parents to meet them at the exact location. Nicole called in tears saying it was such a kind and beautiful thing to do for Timmy and that he would love it. Mark called just to say ‘Thank you y/n, for doing this for my son.’

A few days later they arrived in France and it was beautiful weather despite it being August. Timmy was confused as to why y/n asked him to bring a shirt and tie and his good blazer. ‘Because we may go out to a nice restaurant and you can’t go out in your usual jeans and hoodie Timmy’ Timmy agreed reluctantly and reminded himself y/n was rarely wrong about this kind of thing and this would be the first step in obeying everything his wife wanted.

Their time in France was beautiful, they ate amazing food they visited all of the tourist attractions and Timmy even took her to where he spent his summers. They made love in the evening and she did try on that bikini and he ended up taking her right there in the swimming pool.

They ended up staying longer than intended, one day y/n wanted to go to this little village in the French countryside which Timmy found odd because there was hardly anything in it. She had told him to wear his suit and she wore his favourite dress the simple one he had bought her.

They reached the small village and they stopped in front of an old church, Timmy looked at it confused and looked back at y/n who was smiling at him.

‘Y/n, where are we?’

‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’

She spoke softly holding his hand.

‘This is the church your grandmother married your grandfather in.’

Timmy gasped and his eyes widened before filling with tears.

‘I wanted your grandmother to be with us when we got married.’

He looked back at the old church before grabbing y/n by the back of her neck and crashing his lips to hers and kissed her as the tears fell from his eyes. He broke the kiss and whispered ‘Thank you.’

She smiled nodding and took his hand leading him towards the church where his parents and his sister were waiting for them along with y/n’s parents and sister. As soon as Timmy saw his parents he rushed over to them burying his face in his mother’s shoulder sobbing gently. ‘Mama’

Y/n new he missed his grandmother dearly so it felt right to get married in the same church she did.

Timmy moved from his parents embrace and hugged his sister before turning to his future in-laws and hugging them.

After the greetings and preparations Timmy stood at the alter waiting for his bride. This was better than any lavish wedding and the fact y/n did all of this for him, in memory of his beloved grandmother sealed his confidence that this woman, this incredible beautiful woman would be his and only his. He would watch her soar with her music and they would support each other and have that happy ever after.

They exchanged their vows in French and sealed their bond with a kiss and walked up the aisle husband and wife. Equals.

They had a small private meal at their favourite in Paris and then went back to the villa. Timmy asked both families if they wanted to stay with them but they already got somewhere to stay. Y/n’s parents were staying with the Chalamet’s at the family villa.

They all bid their goodbyes and the happy couple went back alone.

Y/n smiled as she knew Timmy just wanted to get her back to the villa to have her to himself.

Her theory was proved right as soon as the front door was locked he shoved her against it and attacked her mouth.

He picked her up in his arms and carried her bridal style upstairs to their bedroom and shut the door with his foot before setting her down.

She reached for him sliding his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground, he pulled her against him by her waist and buried his face in her neck and whispered ‘Wife’

Her breath caught in her throat and she whispered back ‘Husband’

A choked gasp escaped his throat and he groaned against her neck nipping her shoulder, they shed their clothes quickly and she pushed him gently to sit on the bed before climbing on to his lap.

The place was in darkness but he could feel her fingers trailing along his chest as she made to push him backwards, but he flipped her over so she was underneath and began kissing and nipping her lips before moving down her throat and all the way down.

She took a deep breath as she felt him at her thigh and heard him gasp and smirked. She had tied around her thigh the Chanel Ribbon instead of the traditional lace garter. She heard him groan and felt the ribbon being pulled off her leg and suddenly see him above her ‘You’re so bad’ he still had the ribbon in his mouth and she took it from between his teeth before wrapping it around his neck and tying it in a bow around his throat

‘Oh’ he breathed out softly at the feel of the satin around his neck and she grinned at his surprise.

‘You can proceed now’

He looked at her through the dark with wide eyes in shock before he dove down and began devouring her holding her legs open as she cried out and gripped his curls.

He began moving his tongue up and down her bundle of nerves before poking his tongue inside of her making her slam her hand against the railing above her head.

She knew she would have bruises where he was holding her hips down as he went down on her and she didn’t care.

She was close to coming and so pulled on his hair to bring him back up and dragged him to her by the ribbon around his throat smirking when he gasped. He groaned as he flipped them onto his back and kissed her hard before letting her sit up and sink down on him, they both groaned and started moving together. She untied the ribbon and pulled on both ends with her hand pulling him slightly and smirked as he grunted in surprise. She leaned down and met his lips and they kissed passionately as they rode each other hard.

Timmy held onto her digging his fingers into the skin of her back leaving scratches and slamming his hips against hers meeting her force before rolling them over and burying his face into her neck. His arms were trapped around her shoulders underneath and he could feel her dragging her nails down his back. He growled out against her neck at the sting of her nails and grabbed the bed railing using it for leverage and slammed into her harder, hearing her small gasps against his shoulder ‘T-Tim- I’m-‘

She cut off and arched into him as he thrust a few more times before coming with her his hand sliding down the headboard as they breathed heavily against each other.

After catching their breathes they lay in bed together and he played with their entwined fingers as she lay her head on his shoulder. He looked at their wedding rings and smiled softly as they glowed in the dim light of the moon shining through the open window.

‘This was just the beginning’ was Timmy’s last thought before he fell asleep in her arms!

@sufferingstarlight

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@gatoenlaciudad

[quitealotofsodapop]

Okay, headcannon for how Shadowpeaches met:

After Wukong git back from training with Subhodi he found that his monkeys had been kidnapped by the Demon King of Havoc, so naturally he goes and rescues them. Except.... there was an extra?

Macaque, who had run away from home after feeling smothered by Chang'e (who may or may not have been chanelling her grief over her husband into how she was raising her baby monkey bro) ran away from home to show her he could take care of himself!.... and was captured by a demon king. But he was FINE, he totally could have escaped on his own and didn't NEED to get rescued, thank you very much! But... he doesn't exactly have anywhere else to go so could he stay on the mountain please? Just for a bit, he'll totally leave soon after he gets his feet back under him.

Wukong, meanwhile, thinks this new guy is really pretty in need of his help, so lets him stay and offers to train with him (which has NOTHING to do with wanting to show off his new magic powers or spend time with the new guy, obviously).

And the rest is dubiously cannon history.

ooo this is a cool idea.

Chang'e I feel was a little over-protective of MIhou when he was a baby because he was one of her few companions on the Moon. Chang'e had dreamed of having children with Hou Yi, so she did her best to spoil her little moonstone. Ultimately she could only raise him as just one Celestial castaway, not as a troupe of monkey demons as he should be. So when Mihou came to her one day saying that he heard the sounds of "people that were like him!" on winds from Flower Fruit Mountain; she knew that MIhou would be happier learning from a troupe on Earth. Plus not a lot of babysitting or teaching opportunities up there on the Moon.

I doubt Mihou would have left without hugging his big sis goodbye, but he would have left without telling her. He runs up to her, gives her a quick hug, and by jumping on a magic wind (or magic wind bag "borrowed" from a god); he propels himself towards Earth to finally meet others of his kind. Chang'e cries obviously. But she knows it's for the best.

Sadly, although the monkeys on FFM did resemble Mihou superficially, they were cautious around him. And even a little scared of him. And none had ears like his.

Then as Mihou finds himself moping alone, a flash of orange fur crashes into him. The orange thing hoots excitedly and playfully nips Mihou's fur.

Think the scene where Bambi met Flower;

Shihou, pointing to the new monkey's ears: "Flower!" Mihou: "Me???"

Thats how Shihou and Mihou meet for the first time - for the first time.

Mihou managed to get to know the Elder Storyteller before he sadly passed. But he and Shihou didn't really get a chance to know each other better before the orange monkey left to study with the humans. Mihou had been sad obviously, as he felt like even on the island that he was Other than the rest of the monkeys. With Shihou he didn't feel that way so much.

With both the Elder dead, and the closest thing to a leader being an absent monkey cub - the cruel Demon King of Havoc muscled in and declared himself the King of Flower Fruit Mountain. The monkey troupe disagreed and what amounts to a miniature civil war breaks out across the archipelago.

MIhou is caught up in the drama of the Demon King's regime. His appearance making him a rare oddity that the King of Havoc decides to keep around as an ornament. As long as MIhou kept his head down, looked pretty, and told the King stories, he and the other captured monkeys would be safe from harm.

Suddenly one day; the walls of the Havoc's throne room burst open, revealing a slightly older orange-furred monkey cub. He seemed to levitate on thin air as he wielded an iron pole, demanding the return of his people.

The Demon King of Havoc scoffed and ordered the floating monkey to do his worst. Within seconds the Demon King of Havoc was no more.

As the returned monkey counted those missing from the troupe amongst the Demon King's staff, his eyes fell upon the striking moon-white fur and lotus-petal-shaped ears of the court jester.

Sun Wukong: "Flower?" Macaque, amazed that Shihou remembered him: "Me."

The connection is instant. Wukong stumbles over his words as he reintroduces Mihou (now nicknamed "Macaque") to the troupe, and to the Demons he'd befriended in proving himself as the King of Flower Fruit Mountain.

Macaque is confused. Shihou wanted him to stay?

"Of course!" the orange monkey smiled, as if it were obvious. "You are a member of this troupe no matter what! The others told me of how you'd protect and comfort them while you were all captured by the King of Havoc. I'd be honoured to have you stay."

And thats how Macaque found himself the new Storyteller of the troupe. And how a certain romance blossomed between two stone monkeys.

I hope you enjoyed this <3

[simplykorra]

“Are you wearing it now?” Chanel breaks the silence so suddenly that Beatrice jumps a little.

“Wh…what?”

Chanel sighs and looks at her like she’s exhausted to have to go into detail. “You keep fidgeting and shifting in your seat, please tell me you didn’t wear lingerie on your flight.”

“I…how did you…what?” Beatrice stumbles over herself so much she blows the entirety of her cool. “Of course I didn't,” she says, as if she has any real practice in this. As if she isn’t nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs about the prospect of wearing it at all.

Because yes, she has lingerie in her bag, picked out by her friends with the promise of blowing Ava’s cute little rubber duck socks off.

“So you do have a pair?”

“Chanel,” Beatrice warns, or begs, she’s not sure which.

Thankfully, Chanel laughs and pats her knee. “Relax, the last thing I want to do is scare you off and ruin the moment - because Ava has been a pain in my ass for the last three weeks, she needs this as much as you do, trust me.”

It’s late enough that the stars are out and the sky is dark - though lit up by the array of lights and equipment that make up a massive movie set. Genuinely, Beatrice has found herself on a few sets since she started dating Ava, but this one is surreal - it feels almost like its own city.

There is an entire row of trailers and Beatrice just knows if Camila was here, she’d be freaking out about all of the stars here. Sadly, the weight of it all is lost on Beatrice, when she read the cast list out to her friends before coming, she only knew three of the big names and one of them was her girlfriend.

The car slows to a crawl as they reach the back end of the set, beyond the production crews and the big, sprawling studio buildings where the green screen content is filmed - and hit the row of trailers.

“Okay,” Chanel rolls the car to a stop. “Third trailer, second row - if you go one too far you’re going to be putting on a show for Harrison Ford.”

Beatrice instantly perks up, “oh I know him!” She says, sounding far too much like Camila.

Chanel snorts, “everybody knows him.”

“I know but…never mind,” Chanel wouldn't understand how rare it is for Beatrice to actually know a celebrity and perhaps it’s good that she doesn’t. “Thank you for helping me with this,” Beatrice says after she climbs out, bag in hand.

“Like I said, she’s been a pain in my ass, a good orgasm or two will go a long way so-”

“Goodbye, Chanel.”

-------------

a celebrity!ava au follow up one shot

[larosebisou]

DIOR Feminity The Trap Simone De Beauvoir print white cotton linen tshirt XS | Vintage S/S 2003 Dior Pink Mesh Monogram Thong | Rare Christian Dior 2024 Newspaper Print White Black Calfskin Saddle Bag | VALENTINO Roma c.1990's Black Silk Floral Lace Hem Classic Slip Skirt | Chanel Classic Black Calfskin/White Piped Trim Pumps | Chanel CC Faux Pearl Heart Drop Pendant Earrings

[lulumilkshake]

spoiled - g. satoru

summary - no matter how many times you tell your blue eyed husband to stop buying you expensive stuff, he still continues.

warnings - just tooth rotting fluff and some angst if you squint

“honey im home!” you heard a yell across your shared apartment.

“coming baby! one second!” after you finished up your skincare, you ran downstairs to see your gorgeous blue eyed husband after a week of him being away on a mission.

it was a rare occasion at this point for him to even say hello anymore due to the uprising in special grades lately.

when you went downstairs you found a bunch of bags sprawled on the couch

designer bags.

“now before you get mad at me.. i wanna say i love you so much and-” he was cutoff by your objections.

“satoru i told you to stop spending this much money on me! this is at least a billion yen oh my god!”

there was at least 20 bags of all types of brands he bought.. dior, chanel, dolce & gabbana, versace, gucci, etc.

“i don’t understand why you don’t wanna accept my gifts” he pouted and looked up at you.

you tried your hardest not to give in and look into his eyes. eyes that could convince you to say or do anything.

you sat down next to him, “it’s not that i don’t want to accept your gifts honey, its just that i feel like im the only one being spoiled sometimes, and i dont like that.”

you were venting to him at this point, but no matter how much you vented, he still listened.

even though he sometimes felt he couldn’t comfort you, he still was the best listener you could have.

“baby i never feel like im imbalanced to you, i buy all this stuff for you because i love you. i love seeing you dolled up with everything i got you. your love is the only thing i really need from you” your husband reassured you.

you never realized before, but he could be really sentimental if he wanted to.

your used to seeing a goofy side of him when he jokes around with the first years or with nanami.

“god when did you start having a way with words” you joked as you looked in his eyes, giving in to him.

“ouch, ive always been the perfect husband haven’t i?” embracing you as he spoke, showing you how much he loved you and how much you loved him.

“let’s go through the bags now so we can see the lingerie i bought you!”

and then he ruined the moment.

[calummss]

Kylo Ren Blurb: A Little Twirl, Sweetheart

masterlist

summary: kylo wants to see the clothes you bought

pairing: fem! reader x kylo ren

words: 600

a/n: inspired by this gif. SO PLEASE WATCH THIS GIF BEFORE READING!! LIFE CHANGING

“I’m back.” You called into the hallway as you struggled to close the door, multiple bags hindering you from turning around, forcing you to close the door with your butt.

You slipped out of your black Mary Jane heels and quickly tiptoed towards the kitchen table to relieve your arms of the weight you were carrying. Turning around you saw Kylo sitting on the sofa, a nice cut suit hanging off his frame.

“Where have you been?” He asked, his arms stretching over Chesterfield's sofa back, an old-fashioned glass in his right hand. The amber colour of bourbon waiting to warm his throat.

You made your way to him, bracing yourself on his knee as you climbed up to his face, kissing him. “Shopping.” You smiled.

“Alone?” He caught your lips again, the faint taste of alcohol seeping into your mouth.

You kissed him back once more before lowering yourself on his knees, your arm starting to throb.

“No, I was with Arienne for a while but I had a lot to get through my list so I only really spent the last hour alone. Well, besides Hux who is always there for me. Bodyguard and all…”

Kylo’s eyes attentively sat on your figure as you talked about your shopping.

“Show me what you bought.”

“Like a little fashion show?”

His index finger curled under your Vivienne Westwood choker pearl necklace, pulling you towards his face. “Just like a little fashion show, sweetheart.”

You felt him on your lips again, your hand resting close to his cock, innocently rubbing your thumb against the rough fabric.

“Not only does it make me incredibly horny to see you swoon over me but the fact you get turned on by it gets me very wet,” your other hand gently holding his jaw.

“I like seeing you dressed up,”

“I bet you do,” you leaned away from him, your fingertips not-so-accidentally grazing his cock as you sat up from his knee and walked over to get your bags before disappearing inside the bathroom to change.

You put on the first outfit: a two piece set from the Chanel spring collection from 1995. A blue cropped double breasted coat with a black skirt and gold chain.

Opening the door you strut towards Kylo, your outfit fitting like a second skin.

“It’s Chanel,” you said, admiring the sleeves with a grin. “1995 spring collection.”

Kylo still sat on the sofa, his glass of bourbon placed on the side table. He was still leaning into the back of the sofa, his legs open. His eyes scanned you head to toe.

“What do you think?” You turned to give a full view of the outfit.

“The colour suits you and the skirt makes your legs look good. I like it.”

Walking back into the bathroom you changed into a black Chanel dress. A 1992 Haute Couture Spring/Summer show, a rare item you managed to buy. It felt like wearing a winning lottery ticket.

You walked out again, this time with a set of black heels you had also bought, the sound bouncing off the walls.

Kylo leaned forward, bracing himself on his knees as his eyes darkened.

“Can you do a little twirl for me, sweetheart?”

You turned, giving him a full view of the dress.

“This is my favourite piece I have ever bought.”

“I agree.”

“So you like it?”

“Love it.” He stood up, coming closer. His arms wrapping around your waist. “Keep it on.”

“As you wish,’ you combed through the back of his hair, your lips inching closer. “Sir.”

[anastasiaskarsgard]

could you write a one shot where the marquis is out and about doing marquis stuff but in the middle of the public, there’s a shoot out and (because the assassins aim is poor) they hit the reader instead of the marquis. The marquis gets the reader to a hospital and finds himself getting curious about the stranger that got shot instead of him?

“Was that the Marquis de Gramont?” The newest nurse to take over asked.

Opening your eyes, and glancing over, you were met with the curious, excited woman’s face. “No his name is Vincent. Not Marquis.” You added.

The woman’s high pitched giggling echoed through the room. “Oh my! You’re serious?” She asked as she had a hard time getting control of herself. “Marquis is not a name, it’s a title. It means they’re practically royalty, and quite rare in France considering our history.”

You analyzed the woman’s uniform, making sure it was in fact a proper uniform, and not some escaped patient. You had no idea what she was even talking about. As far as you knew, all the French royals were wiped out in the French Revolution. They killed so many people, they had to invent the guillotine to keep up, plus you’d never heard of that title.

“It says here you’re an American. You’d think you’d know how to avoid getting shot with all the shootings you guys have over there. I don’t know how you all manage it. What with every single citizen carrying multiple guns… sounds terrifying!”

It was your turn to chuckle now, “everyone doesn’t have guns in America. Plenty of people don’t own any at all.”

She looked at you incredulously, putting her hands on her hips, “well the BBC, which is English, but still a respectable news source says there’s 10 guns for every person in America.”

“Oh they don’t mean everyone has ten guns! There’s gun collectors and enthusiasts that have many many guns, while the average person might own one. I personally don’t own a gun at all.” You explained, “I have never seen anything like yesterday though.”

Previous day

You couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. Your whole life you’d been told how beautiful Paris was, but so far had found it overcrowded, and smelly. Graffiti was everywhere, and you hadn’t seen a single mime.

You had dressed up in a smart Chanel suit, with a stylish complimenting hat and even gloves, going for a classic French look, but you stood out like a sore thumb. All your preparations and extra bag fees to bring what you thought was a proper French wardrobe was for naught.

You’d barely walked anywhere and your feet were already screaming, but you didn’t care. Your shoes went perfectly with your ensemble, and you’d have bloody feet before you swapped them out for a pair of sneakers.

A loud bang, followed by a few more bangs sounded off in the distance. Knitting your eyebrows together, you tried to figure out what it was. You knew guns were illegal here so that wasn’t it, but it was too early for fireworks.

Suddenly several cars were driving at a great rate of speed in your direction. They were weaving in and out of traffic and one even drove on the sidewalk. Several more bangs sounded, and people around you started running and screaming. You still couldn’t figure out the bangs tho. What the hell was happening on your trip you’d saved up all year to take?

As the chaos unfolded before you, an expensive looking sports car, hit the curb and spun out of control. Spinning across the intersection, it slammed into a barrier about 100 feet away from you. Spurred into action by the loud crash and smoke billowing from within, you daintily ran towards the car.

Reaching the vehicle, you noticed there was a person inside that wasn’t moving. Making your way to their door, you pulled on the lever, only to nearly get smacked in the face by the door springing up, instead of out.

Inside was a well dressed, beautiful man, that was what you’d been thinking was the standard French man. Staring at him a moment, unsure what to do, you scanned the immediate area and saw that one of the other speed demon cars, had parked and two men were making their way towards you.

“Move sweetheart. We got no beef with you.” One of them said.

“We don’t have time for this shit. Fucking shoot ‘‘em both and let’s get outta here.” His accomplice said.

Eyes widening you turned to face the two thugs, placing your hands on your hips and glaring. “Excuse me, but nobody is getting shot today. I’m afraid you’ll have to-“ suddenly you felt a terrible burn and looked down to see red blooming above your hip. Gingerly touching it, you brought your gloved fingers in front of your face to confirm that you were in fact bleeding… in your Chanel tweed suit.

Rage burned through you. Your suit was ruined! RUINED! In a fit of rage, you tomahawked your purse at the one who shot you, hitting him square in the head. Removing your shoes, you threw them too, shrieking various insults about their breeding and disrespect of proud fashion houses. Looking back, you likely were in shock and running on adrenaline, but just as the two men raised their guns once more to undoubtedly ruin your clothing further, two gunshots rang out behind you. Both men before you, suddenly had holes in the center of their foreheads and fell to the ground dead.

Colors distorting and your surroundings slowing and blurring all around you, you reached out to catch something to hang on to, finding the unmistakable feel of a cashmere and silk blend suit jacket. Blinking slowly, you turned to see the beautiful man beside you holding a gun and looking around.

Smiling the best you could, you uttered, “don’t let me fall in the street and ruin my outfit further.”

Then all went dark.

————————————————————-

You’d woken up this morning to find the beautiful man standing at your bedside, staring down at you with a contemplative expression on his face.

“You changed.” You blurted out. “This suit is good too.”

Looking down at your hospital gown, you gasped. Reaching up to your head, you found your hat was gone too. “I’ve been robbed!”

Hearing a chuckle, you turned back to see the man genuinely smiling at you. “You were shot and they had to cut your clothes off of you. I apologize for leaving your shoes and purse at the scene, but I found it most important to save your life.”

Trying to look appreciative, you bit your lip and tried to hold back your tears. “Thank you for saving me…”

“Vincent.”

“Vinnie. That’s a fun name.”

“It’s actually Vincent.” He corrected.

“Who got shot here? Oh ya it was me. Jesus Vinnie. You have to choose your battles.” You stated matter of factly. “So what happens now? Am I to be released in this abomination?” You asked, plucking at your hospital gown. “Porky pig my way through the streets of Paris?”

Vinnie hadn’t stopped smiling since you’d woken up. He bent down and took your hand into his.

Slightly surprised by the familiar behavior, you just stared wide eyed at him, waiting for him to inform you what was happening.

Massaging your hand, he moved your hair behind your ear with his other hand, before speaking; “you’re going to rest for a couple days and let them take care of you. When they are ready for you to leave, they will call me and I will come personally pick you up with a new Chanel ensemble.”

“With matching accessories?” You asked hopefully.

“Do I look like an amateur?” He asked with a dazzling smile.

Shaking your head, you leaned back into the pillows feeling very tired all of a sudden. Barely able to keep your eyes open, you swore you felt lips brush across your hand, followed by your forehead, before darkness once again claimed you.

——————————————————-

“Well honey that man is the richest, most eligible bachelor in Paris. He’s also one of the best looking too but dangerous. It’s nice he saved you, but end it at that. Too many people come in here saying his name.” She said as she checked your vitals and replaced medicine. “It was exciting seeing him up close tho. I’ve only ever seen him in the gossip rags or on the telly.”

“He said he’s going to get me a Chanel suit with accessories and pick me up from the hospital when I’m ready.” You mumbled.

“WHAT?” The nurse shrieked before jumping up and down clapping excitedly. “You know what? Forget what I said. Go with him! And have the time of your life for however long it lasts!”

You once again inspected this woman’s uniform. Finding nothing amiss, you closed your eyes and let sleep take you once more.

[ateezyuri]

WHATS IN YURI’S TRAVELING BAG

“what’s in my bag? i don’t even know what’s inside.”

MAKEUP BAG

“so to start off with, i have this makeup bag that mingi got me for my birthday last year!”

“i just have the necessity’s in here — moisturizer, sunscreen, foundation, concealer, powder, mascara, blush, brow gel, contour, lip gloss, all those life savers. it’s really handy for when i wake up an hour late and have to do my makeup in the car. i think that’s why mingi even bought it for me.”

“if i had to pick my favorite item from this i would probably pick my benefit brow setter and my rare beauty lip oil in the shade happy, rare beauty is my favorite makeup brand ever, the makeup is so pigmented and it’s run by selena gomez, it’s a win win.”

TOILETRIES

“when i first got my purse, i got really excited and just started shoving everything in there, and i quickly figured that i wouldn’t be able to find anything or things would get broken, so i put everything in pouches. i have another pouch, which is chanel, again! i think this was given to me as a gift after my first chanel photo shoot.”

“but in here, i have just a bunch of mini toiletries. i have a mini native deodorant, my favorite scent is coconut and vanilla, it smells so so good.”

“next i have some hair ties, bobby pins, safety pins, and a claw clip. i also have a tiny mirror in here as well.”

“this perfume is literally my favorite perfume ever, it’s the YSL LAVALLIERE. it makes me smell so so good, i have the actual perfume bottle but it’s in my room, for now i’m just keeping the sample in my purse. but it’s literally the best perfume, it lasts so long, and i love to put it on after i work out or after practice, and sometimes when the boys are really stinky i spray them too.”

“lastly, i have some hand sanitizer, hand lotion, a mini dry shampoo bottle, a mini hair brush, and mini toothbrush and toothpaste. i know it’s a lot, but this is the bag that comes with me everywhere, and i mean everywhere.”

MEDICINE BAG

“in this pouch, i just have a few things that i may need throughout the day. first, i have some advil, i have some cough drops, and then i have the powdered electrolyte mixers that you put in water! i also have some mints in here as well. super helpful on days where we are performing!”

HEADPHONES + CHARGER + KEYS

“are you kidding me?!? *yuri sighs when she picks up the charger — that looked like it was on the verge of breaking.* i looked for this EVERYWHERE, and it was in my purse the whole time?”

“hey, don’t make fun of my charger, atiny. it works PERFECTLY fine.”

“i used to be an airpod girly but they kept falling out of my ears when i was working out so now i use headphones. i only use my airpods when i’m in my bed now.”

MINI COLORING BOOK AND MINI COLORED PENCILS

“okay don’t judge — but when you’re waiting to perform or for others to get ready, it can get very boring. i find coloring mini fairies very therapeutic in stressful times.”

EYE DROPS

“you gotta have them — they are a NECESSITY. i think i need to restock my eye drops though — i used them all after i held staring competitions with all the boys yesterday on vlive. i won all of them, by the way.”

“what do you mean “did they know of these competitions?” of course they did! they just chose to lose like the losers they are.”

SNACKS

“if you know me, you know i always need some snacks. in my purse i have some protein bars and cookies, and then it look like i have some sea salt seaweed crisps. a very interesting combination, but they are really good when i have low energy!”

GLASSES + CONTACTS CASE

i have my eye glasses and then a case for my contacts as well as solution! after schedules my eyes get really dry or if the air quality is bad i like to take my contacts out and put my glasses on! or if i want to take a nap i take them out, before i used to just take a nap in my studio with them in and they would fall out and i had a lot of dried contacts everywhere, so hongjoong made me start taking them out. he was tired of finding contacts everywhere he sat i guess.”

WALLET

lastly, here is my wallet! i have my keys attached to it because sometimes i just grab my wallet when i’m just going to the store or something, i only haul my purse around when i really need it.”

tags: @atzaria @ateezjuliet @m00niesk7 @btsnvra @softieteez @shinyddeonghwa @girlzwfun @still-astray @txt-yaomi @kittiverse @billboard-singer @mrk-lees [send an ask to be included or removed]

[shakespearerants]

How to find a clothing style you actually like to wear- A Guide by Me

Step 1: Information gathering

Find out what you want to look like. Ideally, do this over quite a long time - I'm talking a year. Why a year? If you live in a region with seasons you won't want to wear the same clothes in summer as in winter. Regardless of where you live, keeping a list of Stuff You Want that goes longer than a trend cycle will help you determine what pieces you actually want and what is just the fast fashion algorithm talking. When keeping your list, it is important to a) not do the Pinterest thing - instead of saving Fotos of whole outfits, either write down the elements or, if you must do the visual, do a quick notes app sketch, also b) be specific - every item on you list must be described in 3 words or more.

Example:

Description:

- chunky lace up boots with a big platform

- ripped jeans, light wash

- minimalist comfy sweater no hood

- tiny leather backpack

- oversized thin hoops

- plastic frame angular sunglasses

OR:

WHY?

This way, you won't focus on getting this exact sweater or pair of sunglasses or whatever, and instead focus on what drew you to the look. I didn't write down that the earrings were silver -> form was more interesting than material. I didn't write down the brand of shoe -> look was more important than name. I mentioned the shape and size of the sunglasses -> exact form interested me. When you look at the list a few months later, you won't fall into the "but EVERYONE has a tiny Chanel right now!!!"-trap, you'll go "tiny leather backpack? What a stupid idea, I need my bag to be able to fit five average cats minimum and leather gives me the ick" and save yourself from throwing a whole bunch of money out of the window.

Step 2: Identifying core style traits

Go through your list and sort all your single pieces into groups by what makes them distinct from other T-shirt/sweaters/pants/jackets/etc. Your goal is to identify significant accumulation in one or more categories. I've found these helpful:

- Material -> are there 20 million wool sweaters/latex skirts/fur coats/linen sundresses on my list?

- Texture -> are most items on my list smooth/knitted/fuzzy/shiny/etc?

- Colour -> are there 1 to max 3 colours that dominate my list?

- Silhouette -> do most of my items create a boxy/curvy/angular etc silhouette?

Once you've done your grouping, you should have a better understanding as to what is important to you Re: the look you're going for. If you don't care about silhouette at all, but all your items are lime green, you will have different priorities going forward than someone who has all colours of the rainbow on their list but every single thing is straight cut to maximize boxiness.

What you can also do at this stage is identify "make or break" pieces. A "make or break" piece is an item of clothing that incorporates your important points so much that it basically doesn't matter what you wear with it, it will always have a very specific vibe. A "make or break" piece will usually be shoes, pants or a jacket, never an accessory (only exception: hats) and only in rare cases a top. An example for an outfit consisting only of "make or break" pieces:

Every single item, from the hat to the boots, is giving 1920s dig for the tomb of Tutenchamun. You can imagine her wearing a neutral black suit with only the hat, only the shirt, only the pants or only the boots and suddenly your suit is also giving 1920s dig for the tomb of Tutenchamun. Identify 2 or more "make or break" pieces for your winter, spring/fall and summer wardrobe.

Step 3: Know your own body

Why is this important? Because HOW the clothes fit on you is arguably more important than WHAT you are wearing. Especially if you have a different body than most of the people modelling your list items, if you just go out and buy them, you will not get the look that you want. You need to know how to get the look you want with the body you have. (If the one thing all your list items had in common was colour, you can skip this part).

Example:

This is your inspo

And this is your body

You're not going to get that tomboy androgynous whats-my-gender-wink-wink look. You're going to look like...someone with boobs and tummy wearing a suit that isn't cut for boobs and tummy. So, we identify what we want from the look - a silhouette with big shoulders and no curves - and think about how to achieve that with the body that we have. This may look like making sure to wear a sports bra and pants that sit at the hips instead of at the waist to create more of a straight line in the torso instead of an hourglass figure. Or this may look like wearing the suit with a dress shirt + undershirt from the men's section that's buttoned pretty high up because that gives you the no-boob-illusion. You will probably also have to have the suit altered or buy a slightly different cut because it will hang different on your body. And the same goes in the other direction.

If this is your inspo:

And this is your body:

The exact same suit will not give you the same look. To get that same look, you will have to look for something with shoulder pads, tailoring at the waist and possibly some structural enhancement at the bottom of the jacket. You'll also want those pants to fit different - tighter at the ankle and looser in the hips - to give you the illusion of the model's curves.

Step 4: The shopping

Now that you know what you want your things to look like and how they should be cut to work on your body, all you have to do is go out and get them. To get the maximum transformation out of minimum new stuff, I would suggest the following prioritization:

Get first: "make or break" piece that goes with the most stuff you already have (usually shoes or pants, in my experience) -> this will help you pull the awkward phase between styles more in the desired direction.

Get next: replacement for what bothers you the most in your current OFTEN WORN OR DAY TO DAY wardrobe (in my experience: usually shirts) -> this will have the biggest notable impact but MAKE SURE YOU ARE REPLACING ITEMS THAT YOU WEAR *REALLY REALLY* OFTEN. Seasonal wardrobe doesn't count!!!

Get last: outerwear/statement pieces (hats, jackets) unless the situation is extremely dire (e.g. you new aesthetic is basically dark academia and all you own are baby pink see through raincoats covered in sanrio characters).

Step 5: The wearing

You know those 'wearing vs styling' videos going around on various social media platforms right now? Yeah, that. Experiment with how you tuck in your shirt. Experiment with what items you combine together. Experiment with accessories. GET SOME accessories if you don't have any. Think about how your vibe changes with little adjustments, and make them deliberately. My genuine advice: stand in front of a mirror, pick one item of clothing (example: knit sweater) and try to wear it in every way possible (normal, backwards, inside out, over the shoulders, around the hips, as a skirt...with nothing underneath, with a collared shirt underneath, with a t shirt underneath, with a tank top underneath, with a different sweater underneath...under a jacket, under a blazer, under a cape, under a different sweater....etc etc etc). Really get creative with it, and watch how it transforms your outfit! Then take that information and use it to make your clothes do what you want them to for your vibe.

What to do it you still feel like shit in your clothes:

- I like the clothes, I just hate my body. Consider: Therapy for body dismorphia, dumping people commenting negatively on your looks, getting rid of all mirrors in your living space that allow you a full-body view (this really does work!), feminist theory, exploring your gender identity.

- Idk I like it but...something is missing. Consider: A hat (this fixes most problems, I find), a watch, an outrageous amount of jewellery, extravagant facial hair, a cane or other mobility aid masquerading as a fashion accessory, diving deeper into a specific alternative fashion subgenre, getting a bag/purse that matches the vibe.

- I really want these clothes to work but I just look wrong in them. Consider: Having them tailored (a lot cheaper than you might think), a HAIRCUT (!!!!), giving yourself time to learn how to move in new (and potentially weirdly constricting or weirdly liberating) clothes, double checking that your shoes, coat and purse/bag if your carry one are giving the exact vibe you want them to give, changing your makeup (or starting or stopping wearing any all together), buying a different size.

Now go forth and develop a personal style that you love, friends!

[inkykeiji]

what would each reader (from tag!au, bmb!au, and touya-nii!au) keep in their bag/purse? like their must-haves

they each obviously have the main essentials literally anyone would have in their bag (keys, phone, cash/card + ID) but in addition to that:

bmb reader: lipgloss, a compact mirror, Daddy’s platinum credit card, phone charger + an extra battery pack, a tiny travel sized bottle of her fave perfume, key fobs for Daddy’s penthouse + Daddy’s office at work, a nail file, a miu miu card holder with all of her membership cards (gym, restaurants, country clubs, hotels, etc), a planner

tnii reader: a novel, several mismatched pens (and at least one is a sparkly gel pen), a water bottle, chapstick, tissues, a compact hair brush, hair ties + hair ribbons, a travel sized bottle of touya’s cologne, her favourite scented lotion, phone charger + an air tag, touya’s pills + lighter on the very rare occasion that he can’t fit them in his pockets

tag reader: bubblegum from jin’s convenience store, chanel wallet, headphones, sunglasses, old receipts with notes scrawled on the back, chunky hair clips + a scrunchy or two, a few werthers original candies loose at the bottom, bandaids, a pen that only works half the time, faded drive-in tickets she keeps meaning to scrapbook but forgets about, expired coupons

all: and, of course, an extra pair (or two) of panties since their significant others have a tendency to rip and/or soak n soil the pair they’re currently wearing (*/ω＼*)

[mebobags]

Why is the Chanel bag so expensive?

Chanel is one of the most iconic names in the fashion world, and its handbags are coveted by fashion lovers globally. However, Chanel bags come with a hefty price tag—often ranging from thousands to tens of thousands of dollars. This raises the question: why are Chanel bags so expensive?

In this post, we’ll explore the factors that contribute to the high cost of Chanel handbags, from their unparalleled craftsmanship to their status as a luxury symbol.

1. Heritage and Brand Legacy

Chanel, founded by Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel in 1910, has become synonymous with elegance, sophistication, and timeless style. The brand’s history plays a significant role in its perceived value. Owning a Chanel bag is more than owning a luxury accessory; it’s owning a piece of fashion history.

The iconic 2.55 handbag, introduced in February 1955, revolutionized the handbag industry by offering women a functional, hands-free option. Decades later, styles like the Boy Bag and Gabrielle Bag continue to honor this legacy while appealing to modern trends.

This rich heritage elevates Chanel bags beyond their functional purpose, turning them into collectibles that carry cultural and historical significance.

2. Exceptional Craftsmanship

Each Chanel bag is crafted with meticulous attention to detail. Here’s what goes into making one:

Handmade Excellence

Every Chanel bag is handmade by skilled artisans, many of whom undergo years of training to perfect their craft. From cutting the leather to sewing the signature quilted pattern, each step is carried out with precision.

Materials of the Highest Quality

Chanel uses only the finest materials for its handbags, including:

Lambskin leather for its soft, supple texture.

Caviar leather, known for its durability and pebbled texture.

Luxurious hardware, such as gold-plated or ruthenium finishes, for clasps and chains.

Attention to Detail

The quilted stitching, an iconic feature of Chanel bags, isn’t just decorative—it also reinforces the bag’s structure. Each stitch is carefully aligned to ensure consistency. Even the bag’s interior, often lined with burgundy leather, showcases the brand’s commitment to perfection.

3. Limited Supply and Exclusivity

Chanel controls the supply of its handbags to maintain their exclusivity. Unlike mass-market brands, Chanel produces a limited number of bags each year. This scarcity drives up demand and reinforces the brand's luxury status.

Additionally, certain Chanel designs, such as seasonal or limited-edition bags, are only available for a short time. This exclusivity makes them highly sought after and justifies their high price.

4. Strategic Pricing and Brand Perception

Chanel employs a deliberate pricing strategy to position itself as a luxury brand. Over the years, Chanel has consistently increased its prices, making its bags even more desirable.

For instance, the Chanel Classic Flap Bag has seen significant price hikes—sometimes multiple times in a single year. While this may seem counterintuitive, it aligns with the principle of luxury pricing: the higher the price, the more exclusive and prestigious the product appears.

5. Timeless Design and Investment Value

Chanel bags are known for their timeless appeal. A Chanel Classic Flap Bag purchased decades ago still looks stylish today, making it a staple in any wardrobe.

Resale Value

Many Chanel bags appreciate over time, especially rare or vintage pieces. The Classic Flap Bag and limited-edition designs are particularly known for their strong resale value, often selling for more than their original price on platforms like The RealReal and Vestiaire Collective.

6. Marketing and Celebrity Endorsements

Chanel’s marketing campaigns are an art form in themselves. From partnering with A-list celebrities to showcasing its bags on glamorous runways, Chanel ensures its products remain aspirational.

Icons like Marilyn Monroe, Jackie Kennedy, and today’s stars like Margot Robbie and Jennie Kim have all been associated with Chanel, further solidifying its status as a symbol of luxury and elegance.

7. Global Brand Recognition

Chanel is one of the most recognized and respected luxury brands in the world. Its interlocking double C logo is a symbol of sophistication and exclusivity, making Chanel bags highly desirable for those looking to make a statement.

8. Sustainability and Ethical Practices

In recent years, Chanel has emphasized sustainability and ethical practices in its production process. This includes responsibly sourcing materials and investing in innovative methods to reduce environmental impact.

While these efforts add to production costs, they align with the values of modern luxury consumers who prioritize sustainability.

9. The Experience of Owning Chanel

Buying a Chanel bag isn’t just a transaction—it’s an experience. From the moment you step into a Chanel boutique, you’re immersed in a world of luxury.

Personalized Service

Chanel’s sales associates are trained to provide exceptional service, guiding customers through the selection process and ensuring their purchase feels special.

Luxury Packaging

The iconic black-and-white packaging, complete with a camellia flower and ribbon, is a statement in itself. It adds to the overall allure of owning a Chanel bag.

Conclusion: The True Cost of Luxury

The high price of Chanel bags is the result of a combination of factors: impeccable craftsmanship, premium materials, limited supply, and the brand’s rich heritage. Each Chanel bag is more than just an accessory—it’s a status symbol, an investment, and a piece of art.

While the price may seem exorbitant to some, for many, owning a Chanel bag is a lifelong dream that represents success, sophistication, and timeless elegance.

So, is a Chanel bag worth the price? For those who value luxury, history, and craftsmanship, the answer is often a resounding yes.