#i love you simple designed but nicely tailored dresses!

[moonlight-syndrome]

after years of missing this, I finally own you velveteen crown embroidery!!!

headdress: junyvette

blouse: innocent world

op: emily temple cute

socks: the black ribbon

shoes: antaina

[azullumi]

Sorry but your thoughts on designer! Reader X Aventurine?

Like, I want to dress this peacock into so much staff, from tailored expensive suits with unbelievably beautiful patterns to the fucking dresses. (Rine in dress Rine in dress *trembles chews on chair*.)

Or maybe make him a living mannequin when he has free time? Like look at this man, the perfect waist. (new art new art omg)

It's like, so unrelated to IPC that maybe Aventurine would even find peace in having a Reader from a simple world (yeah simple fashion world of course yeah...)

Anyways, if it's boring or silly, you can just delete it!! It's okay, place your needs and desires first!

Cheese for you. 🧀

"the way you look tonight" ; aventurine

summary — you just get along with him so well and he just adores you so much.

pairing — aventurine (w/ fashion designer! reader)

tags — established relationship, fluff, not proofread, 1k words ; headcanons

note — i hope u like this nonnieee!! and thank you for the cheese 🧀 hopefully, he wasn't ooc in this one omgosh also this reminded me of the costume i have to make and i haven't started yet hahahaha?? this is day 3 of writing for this man until i have him.

Aventurine likes to adorn himself in expensive jewelry and clothing, to dress himself with extravagant accessories and jewelries (Have you seen the rings on his hands? His watch? The bracelets on his wrists?); that was a well-known fact. So when he met you for the first time as he visited a certain planet whose main trading point was fabric, textiles, clothing, and everything related to fashion, the relationship that will soon blossom will be inevitable. You just get along with him so well and he just adores you so much—it was like a match-made in the universe.

From then on, whenever he has the time to do so, he’ll arrange visits to your planet. It could be surprise visits or ones planned between you two (it’s mostly just him messaging you that he misses you so he’s planning on stopping by soon). Nevertheless, you love seeing him, love the way he always greets you with a hug and a kiss when he sees you. He’ll always bring you presents every time he comes by. Souvenirs from another planet, trinkets and charms that he thinks you would like, and occasionally, patterns, fabrics, clothes, and such.

Aventurine doesn’t mind you using him as your model—he was your muse, after all. He doesn’t mind having to stand still as you take his measurements or see which color suits him better by repeatedly alternating two different fabrics against his skin (it’s like a free color analysis). All the while, he’s entertained by just you talking to yourself and seemingly troubled.

“Hm, I think this one looks good, don’t you think?” You say as you fall into deep thought, holding the fabrics in your hand. You stand in front of the blond-haired man who just watches you the whole time with a relaxed look on his face—his soft gaze follows your every movement and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “No, wait, but this one looks nice too. Why is it so hard to decide?”

You fall into silence, into deep thought, and Aventurine simply waits for your next move. He’s like a living mannequin but he doesn’t complain, afraid that he’ll break your focus if he speaks at this moment.

“What do you think?” Finally, you looked at him. He doesn’t answer immediately, but instead, he smiles and tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Have you eaten already?” He’ll ask, caressing the of your cheek so sweetly, so gently. A lull of a touch and you can’t help but to lean against his hand to seek more of his kindness. You’ll answer him with a hesitant tone, “I wasn’t asking that though…” He could immediately tell the answer with just the tone of your voice and the way you avert your gaze away from him.

“How about we go out and eat first? I have a reservation for the both of us at the restaurant down the street. They serve your favorites.”

He just likes watching you as you work; eyebrows scrunched, eyes focused, and gaze unwavering as you concentrate on what you’re doing. Occasionally, he’ll watch over your shoulder as you sketch a new design. If you have long hair, he’ll tie it back for you so that you won’t be bothered by your strands obstructing your sight. Sometimes, he’ll massage your shoulders as he kisses the crown of your head. However, when it’s already late at night, he’ll ask you to go to bed with him already while peppering your face with kisses until you’ll let go of your pencil and give in to his words.

Aw, you can’t afford to buy the fabric? You don’t have enough money to buy the pattern that you like? Everything is too expensive? Fortunately for you, this man is willing to spend millions—or even trillions—of credits just to get you what you want and need. You just have to ask and he’ll provide without hesitation. You’re worried about how you’ll repay him? Just a kiss will do.  A fair and perfect price for it all, right?

While Aventurine brings you to casinos with him, you also bring him to watch fashion shows with you—majority of the whole show, however, he would just be watching you and adoring the way your eyes sparkle and your expression brightens. You’ll ask him how the show was and which one he likes best and he doesn’t know how to answer your question, only thinking of how you looked so lovely at the moment.

PHOTOS OF HIS OUTFITS OF THE DAY!! He’ll randomly send you pictures of him standing in front of a mirror in just a simple pose as he shows you what he’s wearing to work. He likes it whenever you compliment him—tell him he looks good, that he looks amazing in the suit you’ve made, that he looks so handsome and you wish to kiss him. (i’m an avid believer of aventurine having words of affirmation as one of his love languages)

It’s undeniable that he looks good in everything that he wears, much more if it's made by your hands. He wears the clothes you tailored for him or the outfits you have planned for him, seemingly showing them off in a rather subtle yet loud way. He’ll occasionally adjust the cuffs of his wrist, fix his tie even though it’s not even messy, or anything that would grab the attention of the person he’s talking to so that they’ll bring it up in a conversation; “Stop adjusting your coat, Aventurine. I know (Name) designed it for you.” A certain silver-haired girl would say and the man adorned with your work would only answer with: “Aren’t they so talented?”

MATCHING CLOTHING (hello?! i know i already mentioned the matching things in my previous work BUT MATCHING CLOTHING WITH HIM!!), especially ones that you’ve designed and tailored for the both of you. Whenever the both of you are going out for a date, he’ll ask what color you’re going for today or what you’re wearing so that he can match you. Be surprised or not, but the bouquet of flowers he bought for you would also match the palette of your clothes.

The first time you proposed the idea of him wearing a dress, he was baffled and somewhat confused. One minute, you were talking about the design of a suit and asking for his opinion on the matter and the next, you’re asking him what he thinks of dresses. Before he knew it, he was with you, choosing among the many collections of dresses that you have garnered in either your closet or boutique. How could he say ‘no’ to you, eyes wide with expectation and gleaming like the surface of a jewel, how could he ever say ‘no’?

Everything was just so simple with you—a form of escape, a way of running away from the thoughts that binds him. Every moment that he spends with you eases him of the worries, of the stress, of the chains that holds him as if he was a flightless bird born in a cage (you were simply his solace). In your presence, he’ll find tranquility inked into the softness of your skin and he’ll murmur his wishes along the lines of your soul; he wishes everything was this warm and easy.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 6-Cumming in Pants-Illumi/Reader

Notes:  I have never actually sewed a mens suit, because 1. Tailoring is REALLY FUCKING HARD and finicky as hell 2. I'm a woman who has no need for one, and 3. I hate sewing mens clothes their boring

Anyway, enjoy. Also btw 70,000 jenny is about 700 usd

also title is from 'English Love Affair' by 5sos

...

As a seamstress located in Yorknew city, you got a large volume of clientele. Be it wealthy businessmen wanting a high quality suite or spoiled princesses shopping for their next dress, you pride yourself in your high quality work and your range of designs. You made sure to treat each and every patron of your business with respect, even the strange characters you often received. Because of course, as the wealthy clients wore their clothes to gatherings, you gained a reputation for your quality and openness. And of course, the odd ones took notice.

The first hunter you had ever tailored clothes for had been kind of normal, only requiring a special waterproof fabric. But the weirdness had increased and increased and now you regularly got a parade of weird guests after weird guests.

From simple garments that required special skills or fabrics, to gravity defying outfits that any designer would turn down, you took them all. At a handsome price, of course. 

It was raining. Thunder rattled the glass windows of your shop, rain hitting them so hard you worried for a moment they might break. It was dark outside, the blackness only momentarily illuminated by flashes of lightning. You hummed along with the headphones in your ears, carefully cutting the black fabric laid across your cutting table. Cutting was probably one of your least favorite parts, but it was ok right now, the music in your ears and the rain a faint lovely sound on your windows. 

Your shop and studio were the same, situated in a nice part of town. Your shop was in a pleasant little street, filled with mom and pop shops and cafes, and off the beaten path far enough that you might half to know where to look. You weren't looking to incur any damages, and you especially didn't want robbers or crime near your precious creations. You did have a hunter's license, in order to hunt certain types of hides, and you were moderately powerful and would be able to protect yourself in a bad situation, but you didn't like fighting. You would prefer it if you didn't have to defend yourself at all. 

Rain hits the long windows of your shop with a loud pattern, thunder cracking in the background. You humm, a calm russian pop playing through your airpods, dancing around your cutting table. You have certain songs you like playing during rain storms, just to give the right vines. Right now your favorites are В последний раз, and Goodnight Moon—

Your front door opened with a slam. You jump, one of your airpods falls out of your ear and onto the cutting table. A figure stands in your doorway. The figure is tall, with long flowing hair flipping wildly in the wind. Rain hits the hardwood floor a few feet in front of him and you push your shock and fear away and glare at the stranger.

“Can I help you?” You say, standing tall and crossing your arms. “You're getting rain all over my floors.”

The man tilts his head, backlit by the lightning, but you can kind of make out his face. He has pale skin, and big dark eyes, as dark as the night behind him. After a moment of consideration, he steps forwards into the light, letting the door close behind him. 

You bend down, picking up your airpod and carefully putting both of them away before you can lose them. 

The man in your doorway doesn't attempt to shake himself dry or remove the wet hair soaking water on the princess sleeves of his odd green outfit. It takes you one careful look over him to realize he's a hunter. The one lesson you’ve learned in your work with hunters over the years is not one of them dresses normally. Fastest way to spot a hunter in public is to look for the person wearing a discount spirit Halloween jester outfit or wearing what could only be described as a tree cutout robbed straight from a middle school play.

 The man in the doorway tilts his head. 

“You are a seamstress.” He says. It takes you a moment to realize that was a question. “You were recommended to me by my father.”

“I am a seamstress, yes.” You say, eyeing him carefully up and down. “But I'm closed right now.”

“Oh,” The man says, and then continues to stand still as a statue a few feet in front of your door. He looks a bit like a drowned kitten with big black eyes, surrounded by long black hair that sticks to his face, his clothes, his arms. He looked uncomfortable.

“I have a shower,” You say, trying to sound inviting. “You can use my dryer as well if you’d like.”

The man tilts his head slightly, black hair cascading in a wet curtain down his back. You wince as water hits your previously clean hardwood floor. He looks a bit like a porcelain doll, his face mostly eyes and confused blank expression. Finally, he speaks.

“Yes, that would be nice.” He says, stepping farther into your room. You hold out your arm to stop him.

“Stop, you're gonna get my fabric wet,” you sigh, motioning for him to stand still by the door. “Just wait here, I'll be right back.”

The man looks down, lifting his arm experimentally, as if he just remembered he's soaking wet at all. Water cascades off his arm, forming a small puddle beneath him.You sigh, massaging your forehead as you go and fetch some towels from your linen closet. When you return, the man is still standing still by the door. You hand him the towels, trying for a friendly smile. You're very tired. 

“Try to dry off as much as you can,” You say, turning back to your cutting table. No reason not to get some work done. You're almost done cutting out the mock up when you feel a tap on your shoulders. 

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to finish cutting out the piece you were in the middle of cutting. 

“Where is the shower,” The man says from behind you. 

“Oh, I'll show you.” You say, turning around. The man has rolled his long hair up in one of the towels you had handed him. In his hands, he's holding a bundle of green and yellow fabric. Fabric the almost exact color his clothes had been. You drop your scissors with a clatter, abruptly closing your eyes.

“Why are you naked?” You ask, trying to remain calm. You had only gotten a glimpse but the man looked pretty built. 

“You told me not to track water on your fabric.” The man says, sounding very confused. You take a deep breath and massage your temples, keeping your eyes closed.

“I didn't mean–you know what, never mind.” You say, turning back to your cutting table and opening your eyes. In the foggy reflection of the window opposite you can catch some glimpses of skin and muscles, but you do your best not to look.

“Follow me,” You say, moving towards the back stairs, the ones that lead up to your small flat. The sound of wet feet hitting your hardwood floor follows you, so you assume the man is following you.

“Are you afraid of the human form, Miss…” The man asks. You scoff. You would assume he was mocking you, but the total lack of emotions in his voice gave away the fact that it was a genuine question.

“Name, and no, obviously not.” You say, “I just didn't expect you to be naked. What's your name again?”

“Illumi,” The man, Illumi says. “I apologize for startling you.”

You sigh, opening the door to the back stairs and starting up. Illumi follows you.

“It's fine, Mr Illumi.” You say, reaching to the top of your stairs and opening the door of your small apartment. “You can leave your clothes on the table. I'll put them in the wash.”

Illumi doesn't say anything, but you assume he nodded. The door closes behind him, blocking out the sounds of rain. You flip on the lightswitch, and golden light floods the small living room of your apartment. You slip off your shoes, and move deeper into the apartment. 

“You have a nice house,” Illumi says, and you hear the wet slap of his clothes hitting your kitchen table as he continues, “although your security is poor.”

“Thanks, I guess.” You say, choosing to brush off the last comment. “The bathroom is this way.”

You walk past your open bedroom door, silently praying Illumi does not see what a mess it is, and open the small door of your bathroom, switching on the lights. 

“Here we are,” You say, turning around and abruptly being reminded that he's only wearing two towels. You yank your eyes from his abs and stair at his drowned face. “You can use whatever you want in there.”

Illumi nods his head up and down, the towel on his air bobbing comically. He blinks his big eyes slowly looking at you with what can only be categorized as curiosity.

“Why did you help me?” He asks. You frown in confusion.

“What?” 

“Why did you let me into your home?” He asks again, tilting his head. He really does look kinda sad and pathetic, if you ignore the rest of his mostly naked body.

“Uh…” you say, thinking for a moment. “I felt bad for you? You look like a drowned kitten.”

“Oh,” Illumi says, frowning. Then after a pause, “thank you.”

“Your welcome,” You laugh, leaning past him to grab a large towel from your upstairs linen closet, and pass it to him. He takes it and steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

You're digging through your clothes drawers for some of your ex-boyfriend's clothes you know you kept when you hear the shower switching off. You hurry, grabbing some soft gray sweatpants and one of his old t-shirts and knock on the bathroom door.

“Illumi? I have some clothes for you to borrow.” You say, folding them and stacking them neatly into a pile. The door flips open and you avert your eye, shoving the clothes in his direction until you feel them leaving your hands. The door doesn't close though, and you close your eyes as clothing rustles, until the rustling has stopped for at least ten seconds. Only then do you open your eyes. Illumi looks much less drowned rat now, his pale skin still a little pink from the shower. His hair is wrapped up in a towel, and you're happy to note your ex-boyfriend's stuff fits him fine. 

“Your stuff will be done in about ten minutes,” you say, turning away and leading him back down the small hallway and into your living room as you continue. “You mentioned you had business with me?”

“Yes,” Illumi says as you move into your kitchen, starting the kettle. He's still standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room like an odd statue when you turn around. You giggle.

“You can sit down,” You say, urging him into motion. He obeys, sitting upright in one of your armchairs, hands folded neatly in his lap. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes,” Illumi says, and you pull two mugs out of the cabinet as he continues. “I was told your work is excellent.”

You select a chamomile tea out of the tea cabinet and put a tea bag into each cup. 

“It is,” You say. “Who said that though.”

“My father,” Illumi says. You scan your brain for anyone he could possibly be referring to and come up empty. 

“Did you need something made?” You ask instead, pouring the hot water into the mugs and putting a plate over them to let them steep. “I'm a bit swamped right now with an unusual request, but if it's easy I can totally make something for you.”

“Mother told me my suit is too small.” Illumi says, still sitting stiff and unnatural on one of your cushy chairs. You grab both of the mugs, placing one on the coffee table in front of Illumi.

“A suite, huh.” You say, taking a sip of your chamomile tea and letting the warmth sooth your bones. As far as normal garments go, Suites would probably be one of the hardest garments ever. Making a suite was one thing, making a well tailored suit in a small time frame without five hundred fittings was quite another. But, in your profession you had long ago learned that there were worse things you might be forced to make than a suite. This one time, this guy had shone up and requested to have a ball for a waist, and be able to use it in combat. You had done it, somehow. At least he had been hot, if very fucking weird. You shake your head, taking a ship of your tea.  

“I can make you a suit, yeah.” You say as you place your cup on the coffee table. “Let me get my schedule book and I'll write you in.”

“Im busy,” Illumi replies, sitting bold upright in your chair, tea clutch between his pale fingers. “Can you do it now?”

“Sew a suit, right now, while you're here?” You ask incredulously, sitting back into your chair. 

Illumi nods jerkily, taking a robotic sip of his drink and setting it on the table.

“Please,” he says.  The room sinks into silence for a moment as you take a few deep breaths, holding back a laugh. 

“I have inconvenienced you.” Illumi says, and you decide to take pity on him. 

“Is there a specific time frame you need to suit?” You ask, reaching forward to pick up your tea. “I can schedule you as soon as possible.”

“Mother says in two weeks,” Illumi says, a few strands of hair falling from the towel turban he put his hair in. in the distance you hear your dryer beek aggressively, signifying Illumis clothes have finished drying. You stand, moving towards your small laundry room, shouting over your shoulder as you continue.

“You said your father recommended me, right?” 

Illumi nods, taking another sip of camomile tea. “He said he gets his work clothes from you. He said your work holds up under extreme stress.”

“I make a lot of specialty clothes for hunters,” You say, bending down to pull Illumis dry clothes out of your front loading washer. “So it kind of has too. Is your father a hunter?”

“Assassin.” Illumi says. You nod, holding his warm clothes and slamming the laundry room door with your foot.

“Ah, you must be Silva’s son then.” You say, handing Illumi his warm, staticky clothes. He takes them, tilting his head to the side.

“How did you know?” he asks, big eyes blinking slowly. 

You giggle, taking his empty cup from the coffee table and putting it into your sink, along with your own half full one. 

“I don't get many assassins for clients.” You say, running water into the cups and putting them into your almost full dishwasher. You make a note to start it after Illumi leaves.

“You know, your dad has a fitting in a couple days.” You start, grabbing your appointment book from the countertop and moving back into the small living room as you flip through it. “ How about you come with him and I'll take your measurements? That sound good?”

Illumi sits still, head tilted as he blinks slowly, considering. 

“Alright,” Illumi finally answers, and you nod, writing it into your book. 

His clothes are still resting in his lap and you hop up, grabbing a bag from your closet. It's an old plastic take out bag. You take his clothes from him again as he thinks, putting them in the bag and handing it back. 

He looks at it in confusion. You smile, handing him a paper bag filled with the weird pins that had been stuck in the front of the clothes, and what looked like an id of some kind and a phone. 

“That way your clothes wont get wet,” You say with a smile, glancing at the clock. It's getting pretty late at night, around ten forty five. The sound of Illumis phone ringing cuts through the silence, and you jump. Illumi pulls an archaic looking flip phone out of the paper bag, flipping it open with a satisfying snap.

“Yes?” 

Someone's voice can be heard on the other line, yelling rather loudly. You pretend not to pay attention out of politeness, but strain your ears to hear something. Unfortunately you can catch anything and Illumi hangs up, rising to his feet abruptly.

“I have to go,” he says, “where should I change?”

“No knead,” You say, standing up and getting your appointment book on the table. 

“But your clothes,” He says, gesturing down on himself. You smile. 

“Dont worry about it, there my ex boyfriends old things.” You say, moving towards the front door. “I was just gonna donate them anyway.”

Illumi follows you, silent but for the rustling of the bags you had provided him. His footsteps made no noise, you hadn't noticed before because of the rain. Opening the door of your flat you step into the much colder stairwell and shiver. 

“I'm sorry i don't have a jacket for you,” You say, bare feet padding down the concrete stairs. “It's quite cold out.”

“As an assassin, I was raised to withstand below zero temperatures,” Illumi informs you blankly as you reach the button of the stairs, opening the door into your shop. 

“Well that's good.” You say, holding the door open as Illumi steps through, into the barely illuminated back room of your shop. A few mannequins standing in the corner look threateningly like real humans, and you giggle as Illumi stops still, staring at them before moving on.

“Jump scared by the manquines?” You ask. Illumi frowns, shaking his head. 

“No.” He says, walking a little faster. You giggle, he must be embarrassed. 

“So, you’ll be back in a few days for our appointment, right?” you ask, standing a few feet away from the front door. Illumi, holding two plastic bags of clothes and nicknacks against his chest, nods.

“Yes,” He says, and then a second later, “I apologize for inconveniencing you.”

You giggle. He's a bit cute, in a wild animal kind of way. You move closer, reaching up to yoink the towel from his head, watching his long hair tumble over his shoulders. He shakes his head like a dog, his long silky hair falling into place. His ears are red as he opens the door, stepping into the rain. You wave, and he nods in response as the door shuts with a heavy clunk. 

You smile all night as you lock up your room, shutting the doors and securing the windows and waving goodbye to the threatening dress forms in the corner. 

Tonight certainly was interesting. 

🪡🪡🪡

The sun is shining across your floors, when Illumi and Silva arrive for their appointment. The door opens with a chime of bells, and you look up from your design sketchbook and grin.

“Ah, there you are.” You say, putting your sketchbook and the table and rising to greet the men touring by the door. “I almost thought you wouldn't show up.”

“I apologize, Miss Name,” SIlva says, smiling down at you. He really does tower over you, in stature and height. “Be polite and apologize for the inconvenience, Illumi.”

Illumi, standing a bit behind his father, nods. 

“I apologize Miss Name,” He says, looking somehow both lost and sincere at the same time. You laugh.

“It's no biggie, you guys were only a few minutes late,” You say, leading them both into the main area, and grabbing the outfit Silva had requested. “I made the alterations we talked about last time, so hopefully everything fits this time!”

You hand Silva the formal suit jacket he had requested, and motion for him to change. He nods. 

“Where can my son sit while we finish this up?” He asks. You nod, turning to look at Illumi who has been standing awkwardly in the middle of your studio with a laugh.

“Illumi, you can take a seat over there if you like.” You say, gesturing at the comfy chairs off to the side of your studio. Illumi nods, moving towards the chairs and sitting down with a thump. His hands fold over his lap and you giggle.

“Your son has great manners,” You whisper, leaning over in Silva's direction. The large man chuckles, brushing his long hair out of the way as he slips the black suite over his white button down. 

“My wife has taught him well in that department,” He grins as you survey the fit of the jacket. “Although we have our concerns.”

“Oh really?” you ask, probably more interested than you should be. “How is the fit?”

“Good,” Silva says, raising his arms above his head. “Well as Illumi has gotten older, Kikyo and I worry he'll never marry.”

You stifle a giggle, subtle looking at Illumi as he sits still in your chair, looking around at the framed sketches on your wall. You frame designs you were especially proud of, with proof pictures of course. You turn back to Silva, a little confused.

“Really? He's quite handsome,” You say, checking the back seam as Silva flexes his muscles. The suite stays intact, not even straining. Silva looks at you oddly.

“You think,” He says, smiling slightly. “Well, lately he has expressed interest in a certain woman. Kikyo and I are thrilled.”

“Oh, really?” You say, your heart sinking in your chest a little. When had you even realized you were attracted to him? Maybe you were just disappointed that a handsome man was off the market. “That's just great.”

Silva nods, smiling a secretive smile as he sheds the jacket, handing it back to you. 

“The fit is lovely,” He says, “I'm quite satisfied.”

You smile, your heart feeling a bit odd, and turn to grab a bag, packing his suit jacket up carefully and neatly, tossing in a free sample handkerchief as you usually do, all the while feeling a bit sad. You don't quite want to admit why as you hand Silva the package, turning to Illumi sitting in the armchair with a sigh.

“Alright Illumi, let's get those measurements done.” You say, turning away to grab your measurement book and your tape measure. When you turn back, Illumi is standing a few feet in front of you. You hadn't heard him move at all. But you supposed that was expected for an assassin. 

“Your shop is nice,” Illumi says, voice stilted as you move closer, wrapping the tape measure around his chest. You ignore the beating in your heart as you take the measurement, noting it down in your book. 

“Thanks,” You say, turning back around to take the second measurement. “I try.”

Silence falls as your slightly trembling hands take the waist measurement. Illumi shifts slightly as you turn, noting the measurement in your book. Silence falls as you take the next few measurements, careful not to touch his body more than necessary. The shoulder, arm, and back measurements are all taken in awkward silence, until Illumi speaks again.

“The designs on your walls,” he says, “I recognize one.”

You have your back turned, writing down measurements and you turn to follow his pointing finger. He's pointing at a design you're rather proud of. The man who had decided he wanted a ball for a waist. You grin, proud of it as you turn back.

“Ah, Mr Morrow's design, one of my favorites.” You say, leaning down a bit to wrap the tape measure around his hips. “That design was a pain in the ass but it turned out so well.”

“You have sewed for Hisoka?” Illumi asks, shifting slightly as your hands pass over his hips, taking the measurement down mentally and turning around to write it on the page. 

“Yes!” You say with a grin, “Pain in the ass design, but he was handsome and so I guess it was worth it.”

Illumi frowns slightly, shifting as you drop to your knees, taking the length of his legs. Faintly in the background, you hear Silva muffle a cough. You had forgotten for a moment he was there. 

“You took his measurements?” He asks, frowning down at you. You look up in confusion, still on your knees with a tape measure in your hand, poised to do the inseam measurement.

“I take everyone's measurements?” You question, confused. “I had to do some really finicky stuff for that outfit, and it involved some odd and somewhat emberassingmeasruments.” 

You explain, knees still firmly planted on the floor as you lower your tape measure. Illumi frowns, hands falling over his chest. 

“I hope he did not inconvenience you.” He says, blinking very slowly. He sounds almost upset, but you shove it aside with a grin as you pick up your tape measure again.

“Oh, it wasn't too bad,” You say, gently taking the inseam measurement, careful not to brush any sensitive parts as you continue. “The costume was a pain, but he was very lovely to work with. His pretty face definitely helped. And the money, obviously.”

Illumi shifts slightly as you carefully take the inseam measurement.

“You guys friends?” You ask, finishing your inseam measurement and turning to write it in your book. Illumi coughs, shifting behind you with a rustling of fabric.

“I guess,” he says, a certain malice in his voice that you can't place.

“How nice,” You say, turning to write your final measurements, your heart feeling a bit heavy.

🪡🪡🪡

Silva and Illumi pay the whole 70,000 jenny upfront. You protest, but Silva waves it off with a grin, as he and Illumi disappear into the sunlight.

You hate to admit that you're really attracted to Illumi. You're not sure why. Maybe it's the whole wounded animal thing he was going on, or maybe it was his awkward nature and stilted conversation, but you were quite enamored with him. 

But thanks to Silva, you now knew you had no chance with him. 

The next few fittings with Illumi were an awkward mix of attraction and arousal on your end, and awkwardness at his end. He tried to make small talk with you, and you replied, but every conversation made you more and more sure he would never be attracted to you. 

He was even kind enough to bring you a lovely bouquet of red roses and white baby's breath, and apologize for the night you had first met. Every kind gesture made your heart hurt, but you accepted them with a smile. Every time you saw those roses, your heart hurt.

🪡🪡🪡

It was around seven when the events started. You were bone tired, body flopping onto the bed after a long day of standing over a table. Your back ached as you sighed, closing your eyes. 

Your phone lay beside you, digging into your back slightly as you relaxed. But you couldn't quite relax. There was a familiar, thrumming energy running through your body. You were horny.

Sighing, you stroked your nipples gently through your thin shirt, already having shed your bra as soon as you entered the room. Your other hand slowly winds down, stroking your pussy gently over your panties.

You're so horny. Maybe it has something to do with Illumi’s fittings. Having your hands all over him in a professional manner was too much. He had such a fit physique, you longed to grip his muscled shoulders, free of the fabric between your skin. You whimper, pressing a finger knuckle deep into your pussy with a sigh. You roll over slightly, back pressing into your phone. 

You can't be bothered to take it out from under you, even when you hear a faint click.

Illumi happens to be near your shop when his phone rings. He answers it quickly, holding it up to his ear as he stands in the middle of the darkened sidewalk a few miles from your shop. 

“Name?” He asks, standing a foot away from the ring of light cast by the sidewalk. The sweatpants he's wearing hang low on his hips. The sweat pants you had given him. They still smell like you still, and Illumi is ashamed to admit how hard he gets when he takes a whiff of their scent. Re refuses to relieve himself, as not to sully your name. It's become hard as of late, with your figure plaguing his dreams, your careful professional fingers brushing his skin. Illumi sighs, taking a deep breath.

You don't respond, the only sound he hears is a faint groan. Illumi starts moving towards your shop, worried.

“Illumi?” You say over the phone. Your voice shakes, sounding a bit odd. “Oh god Illumi!”

Illumi frowns, moving faster and faster towards your house. You sound like you're in some type of distress. 

“Name,” He asks again, “are you alright?”

No reply, only a faint groan leaking through the phone. Illumi’s dick twitches in his pants as he races towards your shop.

“Oh Illumi, you’ve got to help me!” You exclaim through the phone. Your voice shakes lightly, heavy breathing coming through the speaker as Illumi picks the lock to your shop.

“Are you ok, name?” He asks again. You groan, and then the phone disconnects with a click. Illumi dashes through your darkened shop, up the concrete stairs, and opens your door as quietly as possible. If someone is hurting you, he’ll kill them in an instant. 

You have two fingers shoved up your cunt when the door opens with a slam. You shriek, trying to hide the evidence of what you were doing as illumi stares down at your mostly naked body in shock. He's standing in your doorway, wearing the sweatpants you had given to him and a black muscle tea, and staring at your body in shock. 

He looks so delicious, as he takes you in, his face looking a bit bewildered. You trace his body, your eyes catching on the obvious bulge in his pants, and grin.

“Illumi,” You coo, spreading your legs with a grin. He visibly gulps. “I need something from you.”

This all feels so sudden, the tension hanging in the air between you, the way his expressions of lust spell so plainly on his face. How could you have missed this. You wonder if you had missed other signs.

Illumi moves forward slowly, the door closing softly behind him, feet making no sound on your bedroom floor. He stands at the end of the bed awkwardly, dick twitching in the gray sweatpants he wears. You gulp down saliva, scooting a bit farther onto the bed. 

“I want you to eat me out,” You say, bringing a hand down to spread your pussy lips. You watch Illumi gulp, want him crawls towards you on the bed until his head is positioned over your dripping pussy, his hair tickling your knees and thighs as he leans down. 

“I apologize if this is unsatisfactory,” illumi says, his voice still as robotic and clinical as ever, even as his eyes tremble with arousal. “I lack the necessary experience to—”

You interrupt by gripping his hair, and shoving his face into your pussy. His body collapses on the bedspread, hands winding around your hips and waist, as your hand winds into the base of his long hair.

You groan, your back arching as he licks a long strip along your pussy, tonge passing gently over your clit. 

You reward him with a tug on his hair, and he muffles a small groan into your pussy. The resulting jolt of pleasure runs through your spine, and his name escapes your mouth.

“That's good, so good.” You pants into the air, the hand not tangled in Illumis long hair notting into the white comforter around you. Illumi whimpers quietly, his own hips grinding into the carpet as you moan.

He's showering you with pleasure, his mouth going to town on you as your back arches, and your orgasm threatens to overwhelm you. You whimper, tugging at his hair.

“Oh god, I'm gonna cum.” You shiver, body jolting and jerking and Illumi fucks your whole with his tongue, his thumb drawing circles on your clit. 

“Me too,” he murmurs into your pussy, and you watch as he grinds helplessly into the comforter, completely occupied with driving you mad with pleasure.

It's that sight that pushes you over the edge. His hair tangled on your legs, his hands gripping your body like you’ll disappear in an instant, the desperate thrusts of his hips into the comforter.

Your body tenses as you cum, back arching and hand pulling the hair knots in your hands. His voice is on your tongue as you orgasm, stars bursting in your eyelids, pleasure overwhelming your senses.

Illumi also tenses under your grip, muffling a faint moan of pleasure into your pussy, only prolonging your orgasm.

When you open your eyes, hazy from cumming and take him in over you, you feel more arousal running through your body.

He's looming over you, big doll eyes filled with lust, clothes long discarded. His hair falls over the two of you like an intimate curtain, hiding the outside world from view. His dick is bobbing back to life, big and ready to be inside you. A small, nervous smile is curing across his lips.

“Be my wife,” Illumi says, eyes darting anywhere but you. You grin, a feeling of elation running through your body as you reach up, gripping his face with your hand and looking deep into his eyes as you reply.

“Yes,” You say, and Illumis mouth devours you in a kiss so full of happiness you almost cry. Almost, until you feel that hardness pressing against your stomach and you reach down, storking it gently. Illumi moans into your mouth, choking slightly and you grin.

“You aren't busy, right?” You coo into his mouth. Illumi shakes his head.

“Good,’ You say, body twisting into his. “Because I think I'll have you occupied for the next couple hours.”

Illumi responds by kissing the breath from your lips. 

...

Endnotes:

I HATE SCHOOL I HATE SCHOOL!!! I HATE SCHOOL I HATE SCHOOL!!! 

Anyway, If you cant tell i would love to be a tailor/seamstress for a living, but alas my parents unfortunately raised me to have expensive taste and it's just not sustainable as a career. So it's a hobby for now.

[lawrites]

2022!Oswald Cobblepot x Female Plus Size Reader

(NSFW) Oswald Cobblepot asks you to drive with him, bringing you to the local makeout point. You both discuss insecurities, past high school experiences, and your love for each other (while getting into the mood of the area, of course).

CW: body insecurity, some talks of high school, and semi-public sex (not really because Oz bought out the place 😭), dry humping, praise

Thank you for exchanging fics with me @finniestoncrane!!! I was so honored to write this for you. Hope you enjoy. 💙💙

Oswald had a specific request for you, tonight.

“Sweetheart, wanna take you somewhere nice. Can you put on that pretty, short skirt for me? You know the one.”

You do know the one. You had found it online, somewhere, at one of his favorite high end sites. A flared tennis skirt that boasted it was for bigger bodies like yours, longer in the back and accommodating for wider hips. You had tried it on when it first arrived, in front of Ozzie as usual, and his eyes darkened instantly when he saw the way it highlighted your wider hips, the waistband digging into your plush middle and making a bit of flesh round out over the top. He had gotten up, reaching for your waist instantly and tracing the softness there.

“Angel…that one's a keeper. Want me to get you more? In different colors?”

“Thank you, Ozzie.” He looked elated, as he always did when you thanked him, “But I don't think that's necessar-”

He had put one hand in his pocket to reach for his phone while you were talking, and was now holding up a hand to interrupt you. “I'm already buying you more. You deserve only the best.”

Giving you a winning smile after a minute of tapping around on his phone, his attention returned to you, he continued, “And believe me, honey, this is absolutely more of a present for me.”

So now you find yourself rushing around, trying to pull together a cohesive outfit from your admittedly massive closet. The man spoiled you, but after spending most of your life without access to anything pretty at your size…you are secretly ecstatic to have such a selection at your fingertips. The only issue is that, after years of not having access to the best clothes, trying to put together an outfit that isn't just jeans and a tee is difficult.

Eventually, you land on the skirt in a pale blue color, a simple white tank top, a soft blue cropped cardigan, and some sneakers and thigh highs. Deciding to be a little bit extra, you put your hair up into some cute space buns, wrap them in a white ribbon, and grab a minimal amount of makeup.

Making a peace sign at yourself in the mirror, you take in your smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. It's not necessarily that you are unexcited for this date…you're just nervous. Even now, after more than a year of being with Oz…living with him, even, you worry that you just aren't what he truly wants.

He's proven time and time again that you are, but unfortunately years of insecurity over being fat don't just go away thanks to sweet compliments and proof of attraction…but they do help. You hold your hands at your sides as you walk to the grand staircase, but can't keep them from fiddling with the edge of your skirt when you see him.

He's dressed admittedly casually for him. Dark, high quality jeans that are imported from Italy, a nice, designer cotton shirt, and a vintage leather jacket. You haven't seen him like this before, and he looks good. His chest hair peeks out from the v of the shirt, his patent leather shoes are shined, and everything is tailored perfectly.

Your hands run along and edge of your skirt and you clear your throat, gaining his attention. His eyes instantly turn your way, with a charming smile. The smile drops into an open-mouthed gaze of wonder as he takes you in. “Oh, Angel…” he starts, then stops, then starts walking towards you.

You begin to hurriedly flounce down the stairs, trying to match his own impatient pace. In your haste, you manage to trip on the last step, only to be caught, handily, by Oz. His hands grip yours, and his charming smile is back. “Woah! Where's the rush, beautiful?”

He carefully winds a hand around to the small of your back, gently nudging you towards him until you are pressed right against his front. His other hand moves to cup your chin. “Got someone special you're trying to meet?”

You blush and try to disguise how flustered you are (how flustered he makes you). “I am! Have you seen anyone special around?”

He knits his eyebrows together in an exaggerated expression of contemplation, smirking at your tease and releasing your chin to rub his own. “Hmmm, can't think of one. ‘Cept me, of course.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, “Well, you're certainly handsome enough to be someone important.”

Oz, almost like he can't help himself, surges forward and kisses you. It wasn't fast enough to disguise the way his cheeks turned red at your admission, however. His tongue lightly traces your lips, demanding entry, and you open up. He groans and his hands move to your hips, trying to somehow get you even closer than you already are.

Eventually you both need air, and separate from each other as you catch your breath. Your face shows the astonishment you feel, “Well, that was…unexpected. Good unexpected, though.” You grin at him and he almost sheepishly runs a hand through the hair on the back of his head.

“What can I say, Angel? You drive me crazy. I can't help myself.”

He holds out his hand, and you gladly take it. By the gentle guidance of Oz, you eventually find yourself at the entrance of his garage. The sheepishness is gone, and he looks you up and down with a dark glint in his eyes, “Whaddya say, sweetheart? Up for a late night drive?”

—-------------------------

Oz made you feel cared for, in almost every aspect of your relationship. He was a secret romantic at heart, which was part of the explanation for his behavior…but the other part was his need to show off what he has earned. What is his, and his by hard work and smarts.

And, while saying that you're his may be archaic, you certainly feel like you're his as you're driving through Gotham, his big hand on your bare thigh, tracing the bit of flesh that spills out of your thigh highs. He's casually chatting, of course, telling you about this place or that in Gotham, the history behind it, occasionally making you giggle with his stories. He looks over to you when you do, briefly, his eyes shining.

“Never going to get used to the feeling that I get when I make a pretty girl like you laugh. It's a privilege.”

You are floating, happy, maybe slightly aroused at the feel of his hands on you, when he suddenly releases your thigh as the car stops, moving to put it in park. Trying to take in your surroundings, paying attention to them properly, now, you are instead confused to see just greenery, trees, and darkness surrounding you. You turn to Oz to ask him a question, but he is already getting out of the car and moving to your side, ready to open your door.

You thank him, accepting the hand he offers and trying to see if anything around you was worth the drive. And then, you see the drop off ahead in the ground, rocky, sharp, and guarded by a crumbling fence. Still holding his hand, you look from the drop to Oz. He brings your hand up, kisses it, and then releases it, gesturing for you to investigate.

You rush forward, hearing him yell out, “Be careful, though, Dove! You don't have wings even if you are an Angel.” Pausing well within a safe distance from the edge, you peer down and see the entirety of Gotham spread out before you. The twinkling of the lights, the giant buildings, but without the noise. It's quiet, even if you can just barely see a police car with sirens on, the shrill tone doesn't reach you, here.

“Oh Oz! This is gorgeous! I've never seen Gotham like this! How did you find this place?”

You feel his hands on your shoulders, his soft front pressed against you, “This place isn't a secret. Been aware of it since high school. Would come up here and look at the city and just…think sometimes.” He turns you around so you are facing him, placing a hand under your chin. “Wanted to see your gorgeous face light up like the city when you see it from here.”

Blushing, again, you swat his hand away. “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Cobblepot.” He snorts at your teasing tone, and you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow in suspicion. “I bet you said that to all the girls when you brought them up here back then.”

His grin falters, and he seems to almost deflate in stature. “W-well I-” he cuts himself off, struggling to form a sentence. “Actually, you're the first.”

You roll your eyes, “Sure, Oz.” He holds out his hands, “No! I'm serious…I…Doll, I wasn't much of a looker in high school.” His arms drop to his sides at his admission.

His face falls, and you see a familiar expression, one that you have on your own face when you talk about high school bullies and your insecurities over your weight. Softening, you move towards him, gently bringing him in for a hug. “Oh. I didn't mean to tease you, Ozzie. I know how that feels.”

He grumbles above you, “Yeah, I know, because I have trouble believing an Angel like you had any trouble in high school, myself.” Maneuvering you so he can look at you at arms length, he whistles, “I mean, with your plump, soft body and those rosy, plush cheeks? I have a hard time believing you even want to be with me now.”

You move forward, out of his grasp, and cross your arms, hugging yourself. “Oh, I don't know about that Ozzie. I was such a nerd in high school, and I still am!” He chuckles, and looks like he's about to argue, but you continue, anyway. “I know if you went to high school with me, though, I would have had the biggest crush on you.”

He looks confused. “Really? No joke?” You shake your head, “Absolutely no joke, cross my heart. You're charming.” You bite your lip purposefully, drawing his eyes which start to darken, “You're so romantic, it makes me swoon sometimes.” Moving closer, you wind your arms around him, one at a time, looking up with big, shining eyes, “And you are exactly my type. I love your strong nose,” you kiss it, “I love your dark, gorgeous eyes,” you get on your tiptoes to flutter your eyelashes against him in a cute move that makes Oz actually giggle.

“I love your body, even if you don't,” you press yourself right against his front, making him let out a grunt, “And I guarantee that if we were in high school together, I would have let you take me up here and show me-”

His arms pull you closer, desperately, and he slams his lips into yours, effectively cutting you off. You let out a surprised sound, but then soften and let him lead. Feeling the effect you have on him, you grind against him, making him release your lips with a groan.

“God, Angel.” He's out of breath, his hands crumpling the fabric of your skirt from where he had dug them into your hips. Releasing them, he smooths it down with his hands slowly, almost worshipfully. “The idea of you, in this outfit, showing little old, ugly me in high school a good time…”

You cut him off, “We probably would have both been considered ugly in high school, then, Oz. Two weirdos together. But look at where we are now, huh?”

You reach down to hold his hand, using it to lead him to the back of the car, where you hop up onto the trunk, slightly ungracefully. Arms spread, you invite him into your embrace and he accepts, sucking in a breath as you spread your plush thighs so they surround him.

Using your arm to bring his head down, he dutifully follows and sniffs at the juncture between your shoulder and neck, moaning and beginning to nibble marks into your skin. With a breathier tone, you whisper into his ear, “King of Gotham, my King of Gotham. So powerful and smart and those idiots in high school didn't know what they were missing.”

With that, he whimpers, and his hands dig into your thighs once more, moving your skirt up and pressing, grasping, digging into the plump flesh available to him there. His hips begin to piston, slowly at first, rubbing against your center and making you choke on air.

Then he releases the spot where he had been worrying your flesh with his teeth, nuzzling his nose up the column of your throat and whispering in your ear, now. “And you're the King of Gotham’s Sweet Dove. You're my gorgeous girl.” You whine, and he starts to move even faster against you, the both of you panting.

“Ozzie! Please!” You stifle your cry as much as you can, unsure what exactly it is that you want, but the heat in your belly is removing your ability to think. You feel your wetness soaking into Oz’s front, and he just groans, “Oh, good girl. So wet for me, yeah? So pretty and plump and all mine.”

You bite your lip, self conscious, still, especially being out in the open like this. “M-messy,” you whimper, unable to voice your worry more fully. He almost coos at you, trying to calm you down and comfort you as his hips continue pressing against you in a steady rhythm, sending sparks through your body. “You think I care about a little mess, sweetheart?”

You're the one who nuzzles your head into his neck, now, unable to hold back the small pleas and whimpers and whines that are all coming from somewhere deep inside of you. Somewhere in the mess of words, you say, “K-king!”

It makes Oz stutter in his rhythm, letting out a sound like he's been punched. “T-that's right, Angel. And a King doesn't let those peasants decide who he is or what he does.” With that, he snakes a hand around between you, maneuvering until he is under your panties, circling around your bundle of nerves and making you throw your head back, moaning out more pleas.

He chuckles. “Always wanted to hear a pretty girl scream out my name up here. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart?” The next word comes out desperately, like he needs to hear it, “Please.”

You start to chant his name, which makes him finally press his finger against your clit. “Oz! Ozzie! Oh! Oswald!” Your legs spasm and your mouth easily forms his name, your thighs hugging hard around his sides and forcing him to press right against you. He groans out, “God, my Angel,” and you feel him still as he grunts and growls against your neck.

Catching your breath together, you eventually separate a bit, the heaviness of the summer air and the stickiness combining to make you both feel a bit…gross. Chuckling, Oz removes his leather jacket. What little light exists around you highlights the sweat on his soft, strong arms, making your legs press together again.

He sees you, and lets out a moan. “Sweetheart, I love yah, but you’ve worn me out.” He throws his jacket casually in the back of the car and you collapse onto your back on the trunk, the exhaustion finally reaching your body. You let out a squeak as you feel Oz press against your thighs, removing your panties and cleaning you up with a wet wipe.

Sitting up, press a sweet kiss to his nose and thank him. He smiles serenely at you and you both contentedly sit, for a moment, before you remember where you are. Your heart seizes with anxiety and you push him away getting off the trunk and gesturing wildly with your hands, “Oz! We did that in public! Where anyone could see! What were we thinking! I-”

He laughs, a full belly laugh, and you turn to him with your hands at your hips. “What's so funny, Oz?”

He wipes a tear away, “Sorry, doll, didn't mean to mock you.” He looks fairly proud as he admits, “I own this place, and most of the place around it. I usually open it up to others but tonight…I made sure no one else would be up here.”

Your demeanor shifts to one of relief. “Oh, thank God.” He brings you to him, pressing your back against his front and hugging you from behind. “Oh, I'm not God, Sweetheart, but I'll take the thanks all the same.”

You swat at him, and he chuckles. Then, he groans and presses his head against your shoulder. His voice comes out hesitantly, “Besides, I didn't need anyone seeing me coming in my pants like a fucking teenager over a pretty girl.”

You join him when he laughs, and his wandering hands go to your sensitive spots, seeking out ticklish areas to make you giggle with glee even more. Two weirdos, indeed.

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

....anyway hope you enjoyed! 💙💙

[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ LOVE, TAILORED ﹗one

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ fashion designer khj x ceo fem!reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, crack, e2l 𓏧 for the company assets you have to work with solo designer kim hongjoong. even if it meant him annoying you at every step. ㅤ warnings flirting ㅤ﹢ㅤ2.1k wc ꔫㅤㅤ ❜part one . two . three

Headstrong. Calm. Organised.

This is how you are described everywhere you step foot in. Wearing a Chanel dress, Louis Vuitton handbag and Balenciaga shoes you made sure you are an icon wherever you step, and that typical red-lipped smile in every camera that is ready to capture you.

You aren’t afraid to show you are made from money. And of money too. Yes, you got the company from your father. But under you the company grew bigger, made overseas branches and had more affiliations with other companies.

Your father trusted you enough to hand it over to you on your twenty-fourth birthday. And by your twenty-sixth birthday, you proved to be one of the best CEOs among all leading companies worldwide.

Known among your workers for a bright smile, kind heart and nice behaviour you are never anyone’s bad example. Your working style is organised and you are always calm, strict when only there is an absolute need to be.

So why are you now holding your secretary cum best friend Park Seonghwa by the collar against your table?

Seonghwa’s eyes bulge looking at your fuming face while he tries to explain, “Calm down, he isn’t that bad.”

Leaving his collar, you stand back as you watch Seonghwa fix his tie and shirt which was wrinkled by you. You scoff lightly and look at him saying, “Not bad? Of course, he isn’t bad, he is just simply terrible.”

“How do you even know that? You haven’t worked with him yet” Seonghwa retorts as you roll your eyes.

“Yes,” you breathe, "but I have seen him on numerous shows. And he is the most arrogant, self-absorbed bit- I mean person I have ever seen. It is clear from his attitude."

The thing is, your company is about modelling. And though you do have your own fashion designers, Kim Hongjoong has a great influence on the world. He has no company behind him though. His bold fashion statements which he made alone and his dressing sense earned numerous applause from everywhere. At the mere age of twenty-seven, he can easily be called one of the most successful solo acts in the world.

“Look you understand right? How big this will be on the market? Kim Hongjoong is a self-made fashion designer. Collaborating with him will increase your company assets. And besides you know how people’s on-screen and off-screen personalities are different,” Seonghwa explains as you keep quiet.

Maybe he is right, maybe Kim Hongjoong isn’t such a person as he has built his image to be. You sigh quietly as you take your pen and sign into the contract paper, handing it over to Seonghwa.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

The cool November breeze hits your face as you see a black car stop and Kim Hongjoong getting out of it.

As soon as Kim Hongjoong enters your building you can feel the aura changing. He has a confident strut, holding a coffee in one hand and a black file in another. His body is covered by a black overcoat, simple light-blue jeans and a black silk shirt.

And you can say he makes it work.

You stand quietly at the entrance of your building in a black pantsuit with a black coat hanging loosely over your shoulders. But you feel extremely underdressed as you see the man and gasp a bit visibly but gain your composure back in seconds, a professional smile etching your face.

After the initial introduction, you shake hands with him as multiple reporters take photos before you head inside the building, ignoring the cries of the reporters. Seonghwa walks behind you and Hongjoong and reaching the elevator he presses the buttons while you stand there patiently waiting for it.

It feels calm, too calm for its own good, before Hongjoong leans in slowly and whispers to your ear, “Oh Darling, the reporters might not have noticed but I clearly saw you gawking at me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat feeling his face so close to you, face heating up as he stands up straight again casually and you try to process what just happened. His warm breath lingers in your ears as you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself.

And then you scoff lightly. You were absolutely right.

And Seonghwa was wrong.

Kim Hongjoong is a total jerk and you know it right then and there.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

You let him enter your office as Hongjoong’s eyes scan the room in a boring manner. You feel judged and that makes you glare at him from behind until Seonghwa nudges you and you look away.

Good lord, he has two-toned hair, what is this even? Why is one part of his hair black and the other white? You want to make a snarky remark so bad about it, especially after the elevator incident but you keep quiet.

Being a jerk is not how you deal with a jerk.

Seonghwa’s voice cuts your thoughts saying, “Mr. Kim, please take a seat.” Hongjoong simply nods before sitting down on the sofa as you sit down on the opposite side.

You cleared your throat lightly before nodding your head to the file and Seonghwa walked over to bring it.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Kim,” you say politely as he finally looks up and meets your eyes. “Yeah, nice to meet you too,” he replies before looking back at the file again.

You try your best to not gasp in disbelief. Seriously, like he can’t even say a greeting properly. You jerk in shock as Seonghwa’s hand touches your shoulder as he slips the file in between your hands whispering a quick “good luck” before leaving the room.

You sigh quietly before addressing Hongjoong and say, “Mr. Kim I believe we need to start worki-“ and immediately get interrupted by him saying, “Can you loosen up a bit?”

“What?” you stare at him as he makes himself comfortable leaning back on the sofa. “I said loosen up a little, what’s with all this uptight behaviour?” Hongjoong smiles as you roll your eyes visibly.

“In case you have forgotten Mr. Kim, I am a CEO. So yes I like things organised and I am not uptight, I am professional, unlike well,” you say laughing lightly, “you.”

“Damn you really are uptight, I used to think that was all for T.V,” Hongjoong says eyes boring into yours as you bite back a snarky remark.

Be professional. Do the business for the two months collaboration and then it will be over. You can deal with him for two months. You can.

“Anyways, I think we can plan this out-“ and again you get interrupted by Hongjoong saying, “Plan? Fashion needs no planning! It is all about spontaneity and with someone as uptight as you I can’t possibly do any work, darling.”

“Do not call me that, Kim Hongjoong,” you snap as he smirks, “Oh, leaving all formalities so soon?” he teases as you purse your lips. God this man is insufferable.

“Look, we need to work together for two months, and I want to make this work, Mr Kim, so please cooperate,” you try to make him listen as he finally gives in.

“Yeah alright, we can start with your plan now, but when we start real work we will follow my work ethic,” Hongjoong says as you mouth opens wide. You tilt your head slightly before opening your own file. This is some progress and you are willing to take it. Time was ticking away.

He nods at everything and much to your dismay never takes any notes but you don’t call him out as it will result in another pointless argument. After everything is done you close the file looking up at him as he keeps his eyes trained on his hands thinking something.

After a moment of silence, he gets up suddenly and extends his hand as you look back cautiously but shake it anyway. You voice out, “Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Kim.” You see him smirking lightly and you wait for what remark he is about to make.

“Pleasure doing business with you too darling,” he replies in a honey-laced voice as you shoot daggers at his back glaring at him.

This time you were wrong.

You cannot possibly work for two months with this man.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

It has been a week since Hongjoong came here. He had wanted a week to design the dresses in his copy before showing them to you. You had happily granted him the week, the less you see of him, the better.

Now, Hongjoong is late- by twenty minutes. Your patience is decreasing with each passing second and you warily look at Seonghwa who just gives you a sympathetic smile. You curse Hongjoong in your mind but soon enough your door swings open as you abruptly sit up.

Hongjoong walks in and Seonghwa takes his leave as you stare at him.

“Ah yes, your eyes will be blessed if you stare like that,” Hongjoong says smirking as you look away scoffing. The audacity of this man- first, twenty minutes late, second, has no decency of mere knocking, third, thinking you are swooning over him.

“I am not swooning over you Kim,” you snap before realising what you called him and your eyes widen.

“I did not say you were swooning, did I? Darling?” he smiles in an innocent manner that just makes your blood boil. God why is he so insufferable.

You dismiss his comment and hate at the same time how your ears grow warm at the mention of the pet name that he probably calls everybody.

But then again he was free of scandals, to the point where people thought he was asexual.

You scolded your mind for thinking of unnecessary details before delving into work.

“You know what? Just show me which designs you have made. We are already behind schedule,” you sighed as you cocked his eyebrows at you.

“You and your schedule, didn’t I tell you fashion is all about spontaneity?” Hongjoong says lightly and your eyes bore into him. “Yeah well be all spontaneous as you want, I am not the fashion designer here,” you comment as Hongjoong shrugs.

He hands you the file as you flip through the pages. You awe at the designs because they have impeccable style and every one was unique in its own way. As much as you hate Hongjoong you cannot not underestimate his talent at these.

Your eyes get stuck in a drawing of a dress which has flowers as the design. It was so beautiful you almost wish he made it specifically for you.

Keyword- almost!

“Well looks like Miss Schedule is speechless now,” Hongjoong’s cocky voice makes you glare at him as you slide back the file. Goddamn, he just had to ruin the fine moment you were having with the dress.

“I will just come right out and say it- your designs are impeccable,” you smile pausing and then saying, “but you are very fucking annoying,” you smirk satisfactorily as his face changes from confident to surprise.

“Well that was some smooth-talking, wasn’t it darling?” he gains back his composure within seconds and you fume saying, “Don’t call me that.”

He smiles cheekily before getting up and walking towards the door. You groan in your hands quietly before getting up whisper-shouting, “Kim wait up, you have to meet the models.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ————

Meeting the models was a fairly easy process. Hongjoong asked for their proportions which Seonghwa promptly handed him over in a big copy.

You stood at the door quietly scoffing every time the models tried to flirt with him and he gave a deaf year to them. Where were people’s dignity nowadays?

After meeting with the models you are now walking with Hongjoong to show him his working area. Seonghwa leaves to get to some other work and you are now left alone with him again. The walk down the hallway was pretty quiet as Hongjoong looked around observing everything inside the building.

You quietly open the door to the lavish working room as he looks around and nods. You stand there patiently as he checks the drawers and sewing area. You now realise why he doesn’t take on any big projects, he has no workers and does all of this himself.

The tenacity he has is admirable. Only if he didn’t have such a big mouth.

He hums in satisfaction and turns towards you as you cock your eyebrows. “So do I get a schedule for this too? Maybe a binder?” he challenges as you roll your eyes.

“Just get along with your work Kim,” you replied gritting your teeth.

“Sure darling,” he grins and you turn on your heels to leave. The less time you are in the same room as him, the better.

“Did he just call you, darling?” you jump at the voice behind you as soon as you leave the room.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤidea credit to @iwishiwasrichasfuck. banner made by @/DathanHamen in wattpad. idk if i can bring the story to life. but i genuinely am trying my best ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @tunaasan @stellarlune-love @jeonghanfr @soocore @chaotic-floral @loveateezㅤmain mlistㅤ atz listㅤ navi ㅤtaglist

© arafilez on tumblr. please don't copy and repost my work as your own.

[bloomeng]

I absolutely love Superboys Halloween costume. What costumes do you think the batboys would wear for Halloween?

Oh I’m so glad you asked.

I think as a kid Dick was very typical in that he liked dressing up as things he thought were cool, Robin Hood, pirates, cowboys. One memorable year he tried to convince Bruce to let him go as Robin and for Bruce to go as Batman, and he was unrelenting. Finally they compromised and Dick went as Batman and Bruce went as something vaguely resembling Robin. (He wore a red suit with like a green shirt and yellow tie.) As retribution Dick went as Superman the next year and now that’s his go to costume any year that he doesn’t have a better idea. The last few years he’s been really into pun costumes. Last year he went in a running outfit, then over the top he layered like sewing items and went as “Tailor Swift.” This year he constructed a cardboard chapel and grabbed an oar to be “Chapel Row’in.” Get it… like Chappell Roan. Yeah his family all groaned too. (Credit to Micarah Tewers for those ideas, I’m not nearly that clever)

Jason loved Halloween as a kid. He was really excited by the idea of dressing up as his favorite characters, but none of his favorite characters were things that normal 13 year old boys liked. So it was always like Mr. Darcy or Dr. Frankenstein. And he’d really get into the accuracy of the costumes, totally taking advantage of Bruce’s bank account. Bruce would of course indulge him, though it was usually Alfred helping him put his costumes together. Post-Death Jason stopped dressing up all together. It’s only been recently that he’s been getting back into it. The first year he decided to dress up again he opted for something simple that he thought had plausible deniability as “not a costume.” Dick clocked him immediately.

“Are you dressed as the guy from The Shining?”

“His name is Jack Torrence. How did you get that so fast, you don’t even know his name?”

“Jason, you would never wear flannel voluntarily.”

This year he’s going as a Deep One from “The Shadow Over Innsmouth.”

Tim is the definition of low effort costumes. Most years he doesn’t bother to dress up and when confronted about it he’ll say he’s dressed as “Tony Hawk.” However, he absolutely refuses to be that person who throws on a witch hat or some animal ears. When he does actually dress up it’s usually as someone famous in a specific niche community/field that most people would never know off the top of their head. This year he is going as someone “very obvious;” Magnus Carlsen. (Aka he’s wearing a suit, no tie and carrying around a chess board.)

For his first few Halloween’s with the Waynes Damian just let Alfred choose costumes for him. He had to approve of them, but other than that he claimed to not care, but really he was insecure about picking something for himself. He had limited exposure to pop culture and didn’t really even know his own taste at that point, so Alfred dressing him was safe. Alfred’s picks were nice, if a bit generic, and super biased. One year he went as a prince, another year Sherlock Holmes, really anything Alfred wanted to see on Damian. Around 12 he started feeling comfortable enough to pick for himself. Last year he went as the male lead in his favorite Shoujo manga (I don’t know if the manga he likes in canon has a name). This year Jon talked him into a group costume, so Jon is going as Naruto and Damian is going as Sasuke (the designs from the original series, not Shippuden.)

Duke tends to opt for famous film characters. He prefers costumes that he can build out of normal clothing, but as a kid he totally dressed up in those cheap Spirit Halloween costumes. If Marvel existed in their universe, he would have loved going as Miles Morales’ Spider-Man. Now that he’s a teenager, he’s too embarrassed to go as things he deems dorky. He has toyed with the idea of a MMA related costume, but that’s still too embarrassing for him, so he defaults back to cool movie characters. He’s gone as a lot Quentin Tarantino characters. It started with Jules Winnfield, and it spiraled from there. This year he’s going as Warren from “Hateful Eight.” (Not his favorite Tarantino film but he’s running out of new characters and he thinks his outfit is cool)

You didn’t ask about the girls but I have ideas for them too.

Steph ADORES Halloween and she goes all out. She loves dressing up in costumes that she feels hot in. Not in the “insert costume but sexy” way just things that allow her to dress up nice. When she and Tim were dating she tried to get him to do a couple’s costume with her. The result was a very high effort beautiful Corpse Bride next to the lowest effort Victor you’ve ever seen. She learned her lesson and the next year she dressed Tim herself (he bitched the whole time but admitted he looked good when she was done). They went as Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett. She usually planned their costumes a year in advance, but sadly they broke up before they made it to doing Ichabod Crane and Katrina Van Tassel. Tim awkwardly offered to still do it but she declined. Instead she went as Mary Van Tassel. This year she’s doing something classic, and going as a vampire, complete with Twilight-style sparkles. She’s also a big fan of fake blood and usually tries to incorporate into her costume in some way.

Cass is the wildcard of the family. She always keeps her costume a secret until the night of. As far as themes, her costumes tend to be all over the place. She tends to stay in the generic realm, so less referential, but she mixes it up whether or not she does something scary, or funny, or cool. I do think she tends to prefer costumes that include masks or helmets. I don’t know what they’re called but I have a friend who is really into those like cyberpunk robot helmets, I think she’d love those. However, this year she really mixed it up and decided to go as Ellie from “Last of Us” and roped Bruce into going as Joel. He had no idea who that was, but Cass sharing her Halloween plans prior to Halloween is a big deal, so he agreed immediately.

Babs is also a victim of the low effort Halloween costume. She’s fine throwing on a witch hat and calling it good. When she does dress up the costumes are usually fairly recognizable and comfortable. She likes to dress up as red haired characters like Kim Possible, or that one year she went as Lois Griffin (she thought she was hilarious). Another year she went as Link from Wind Waker specifically, just because she had a lot of green in her closet already. The most effort she ever put into a costume was when she poorly recreated (intentionally) the Discowing suit. This year she’s going as Ellie Sattler from Jurassic Park.

Also not a batboy, but we’ve done the whole family might as well do the Bat himself. When left to his own devices Bruce usually goes as one of two things: The Grey Ghost or James Bond. He basically just cycles between those two costumes every year, unless one of his kids requests something else (that is also reasonable). One year he lost a bet, and he dressed up as Superman and that was memorable. As I mentioned this year he is going as Joel for Cass. He hadn’t seen the show before she asked, and to be honest he’s probably only watched the first episode simply for the costume.

When asked Alfred says he’s dressed as the “Butler who did it” in reference to the murder mystery trope.

[chelseachilly]

THIS LOVE - chapter one | i can make the bad guys good for a weekend

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 2.5k

summary: you and ben attend your first event as a “couple” - chelsea’s annual charity gala

A/N: thanks for all your messages about the little prologue i posted last week! i’m so excited for this story and i’m glad you guys are too :) this chapter title is from blank space by taylor swift, each chapter will correspond with a 1989 lyric

previous chapter | view all chapters

You don’t know what you anticipated your life to look like after you agreed to be Ben’s fake girlfriend, but it proves very quickly to be more of a commitment than you imagined.

In the first week alone, you have to go two meetings with him and his team to discuss what your “relationship” is going to look like, what your story is, and how you’re going to sell it to the public.

His publicist also tries to get you to sign a contract and an NDA, both of which Ben insists are unnecessary.

It feels weird for you to be involved in such an elaborate lie, and Ben obviously senses your discomfort as he tells you a few times that you can back out if you want. You know that he needs this, though, or he wouldn’t have asked you in the first place, so you wouldn’t dream of it.

You end up going with a simple story that doesn’t deviate too much from the truth - you two are childhood best friends who recently realized there’s more than friendship there and decided to explore a romantic relationship. The only change you have to make to your lifestyle, according to Shreya, is attending some high-profile events as Ben’s date and behaving like a couple whenever you’re in public.

It doesn’t sound too difficult, at least apart from having to pretend you’re in love with your best friend, but it’s definitely not a small lifestyle change.

Your first appearance as a “couple” is Chelsea’s annual charity gala, which most of the boys bring their wives or girlfriends to, at which you’ll be expected to wear a fancy dress and pose for photos with him and generally behave like Ben’s girlfriend.

You’ve gone on some nice holidays and been to some fancy restaurants with Ben over the years, but this is different. That much is clear when you get to Ben’s after work on Friday to get ready for the gala he’s taking you to and find racks and racks of designer gowns in his living room.

“What’s all this?” you ask as your eyes scan the dozens of shimmering dresses.

“Oh, my stylist sent them over for you,” Ben shrugs. “I know you said you had a dress, but feel free to pick one of these if you want. It’s on me, obviously.”

The dress you were going to wear is nothing compared to any of these, but you figure if you’re going to be a believable football WAG you need to dress the part.

“You know, I really don’t like you spending money on me,” you sigh.

“I know,” Ben chuckles - you’ve made that quite clear over the years. “But you’re giving up your Friday night to go to a stupid posh gala with me that I know you’ll hate, so let me buy you a stupid posh dress.”

“Fine,” you smile, standing on your tiptoes to quickly peck his cheek before going to browse your options.

After selecting a dress, you head upstairs to get ready in the guest bedroom that’s yours whenever you crash here.

You take your time doing your hair and makeup before slipping into the shiny silver gown you picked out. It’s made out of a silky material and there’s a slit up the leg, but it’s still modest enough for the gala. You trust that Ben’s stylist would’ve picked clothing suitable for the event, even though it’s fancier than anything you would typically wear.

Just as you’re struggling with the zipper at the back, there’s a knock on the door accompanied by Ben’s voice asking if you’re ready.

“Yeah, can you zip me up?” you shout back, giving him permission to enter.

As Ben walks in, you turn to face him, taking in the rare sight of him in a suit. The traditional black suit he has on is perfectly tailored and, you have to admit, he cleans up nice.

He blinks a couple times at the sight of you, his eyes scanning the gown you picked out.

“What is it?” you ask, suddenly feeling a bit insecure. “Is the dress alright?”

“What?” Ben asks, seeming a bit dazed for a moment. “Oh, um, yeah! No, it’s great. You look great. I’m just so used to seeing you in scrubs or joggers.”

You smirk, crossing your arms. “That’s a nice way to call me a slob.”

“I’m trying to compliment you, dummy,” Ben replies, rolling his eyes as he walks over to you.

You turn around so he finish doing up the dress, which he does quickly and easily. You try not to think about how many girls’ dresses he’s helped zip up, and how many more he’s taken off.

“Alright,” Ben says, gently patting your arm as he finishes. “Good to go? The car’s waiting out front.”

“Yep, ready.”

You slip on the shoes that accompany the dress, a similar shade of silver, and grip onto the railing as you descend Ben’s spiral staircase in the slightly precarious heels.

You both climb into the back of the sleek SUV waiting out front to take you to the hotel in Chelsea where the gala is being held. Your nerves begin to settle in on the drive as you realize that this is actually happening, and you’re going to have to put on a show in front of hundreds of people and cameras in just a few minutes.

“Hey, you okay?” Ben asks, looking up from his phone with a concerned gaze in your direction.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you say with a forced smile. He obviously doesn’t believe you - he knows you too well for that - and continues to glare at you, waiting for the truth. “I just…do you really think this is believable?”

Ben frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Like, us as a couple,” you sigh. “I mean, how many footballers do you know that are dating a nurse? Or anyone that isn’t a size zero model for that matter?”

You both know it’s unlike you to talk yourself down, as you’re generally fairly confident, but you can’t help but feel insecure about walking into a room filled with beautiful women who are a lot more comfortable in this world than you are.

Ben, to his credit, looks genuinely appalled.

“Hey, don’t talk about my best friend like that,” he jests, poking you in the ribs. “You look amazing. They’ll all be wondering how I landed you, not the other way around.”

You can’t help but blush a bit, shoving Ben’s chest lightly.

“Save it for the cameras, Benji,” you say with a slight eye roll, though your smile betrays you.

He grimaces slightly at the nickname that he hates but begrudgingly allows you and only you to call him.

“Also, let’s be honest, you save lives for a living and I kick a ball around,” he points out. “The whole point of this is that you’re helping my image, remember?”

“That’s true, I guess I am out of your league,” you tease, making Ben stick his tongue out at you like he would when you were kids.

You pull up to the hotel soon after, and you brace yourself as the driver opens the door for you. The flashing lights of the cameras are blinding the moment you’re exposed to them, making you squint slightly.

Ben steps out first before offering you a hand to help you out of the car, waiting until your feet are securely on the ground before letting go.

“You ready?” he asks, gesturing with his head to the red carpet that awaits you.

You glance over at the carpet, which is lined with more paparazzi. Thankfully, you recognize some of Ben’s teammates immediately, which makes you feel a bit more at ease.

“Yeah,” you nod, taking Ben’s outstretched arm.

As you make your way into the carpet, you can feel your heart racing. The paps are calling out Ben’s name, wanting him to look in their direction, and it’s all a bit overwhelming.

Your train of thought is immediately paused as Ben slides his arm around your waist, settling it low on your hip. It’s much more intimate than any way he’s touched you before, but Shreya’s words from your meeting a few days prior echo in your mind.

You need to act like a couple. It needs to seem natural.

It definitely feels a bit strange having your friend touch you like this, but once you’re over the initial surprise, you actually find Ben’s arm around you to be incredibly grounding. You lean into his touch as you smile for the cameras, trying to look the part of the supportive girlfriend.

“You’re doing great,” Ben murmurs softly in your ear. “Almost done.”

You pose for a few more photos before he leads you toward the entrance. You know you’ll have to keep up appearances for the rest of the evening, but you’re glad the most public part of it is over.

As you enter the stunning ballroom, filled with many familiar faces of Chelsea’s players and staff, Ben’s arm remains around your waist.

“So, who here actually knows about our…arrangement?” you ask quietly as you move through the room.

You had both already informed your close friends and family about the situation to avoid any confused texts when the photos of you and Ben acting as a couple made their way online.

You know Ben told his best mates, like Tom, Harvey, Anish, Madders, and obviously Mason, who had come to be a close friend of yours over the years he and Ben were together at Chelsea too. You just aren’t sure if he told anyone at the club.

“Just Reece,” Ben says. “He asked if I was bringing a date and I figured since he knows you, it would make sense to tell him the truth.”

While you’re friendly with a lot of Ben’s teammates, you haven’t spent much time with most of them and they likely don’t know the extent of your friendship with Ben and wouldn’t bat an eye at the two of you now “dating.” You’ve known Reece for years, though, and he would definitely be confused by this sudden change.

“Okay,” you murmur, “so we have to act like a couple all night, basically?”

“Basically,” Ben says with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, I know it’s weird. But we don’t really have to do anything special, I’ll just tell people you’re my girlfriend if anyone asks.”

“Oh, so we don’t have to go up on the stage and make out?” you mutter sarcastically. “What a relief.”

Ben chuckles and nudges you in the arm.

“I think no kissing is probably a good ground rule,” Ben suggests. “Sorry if the touching and stuff out there was too much.”

“No, it’s fine, if we’re gonna do this we have to sell it,” you shrug. “But I agree, there’s no amount of money you could possibly earn from improving your brand that would be worth kissing you. It’s too gross.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Could you at least lower your voice? Don’t really need people hearing my girlfriend say kissing me is gross.“

You laugh as Ben grabs two champagne flutes from a server and passes you one, which you clink against his before taking a sip. You definitely need some alcohol to get through this whole evening of pretending to be Ben’s girlfriend.

As you find your seats, you’re relieved to see that you’re sitting with Reece and his girlfriend Mia, meaning you won’t have to talk about your fake relationship all through dinner.

“Hey, it’s the happy couple,” Reece jokes as Ben pulls out a chair for you to sit next to Mia. “You look nice, Y/N.“

“Thanks, Reece,” you say as you hug Mia. “It’s nice to see you guys. This event is way too posh for me.”

“I know how you feel,” Mia smiles. “It felt weird the first time I came to one of these. And obviously it’s even weirder for you, with this whole…situation.”

“Yeah,” Reece says, lowering his voice a bit to ensure only the three of you can hear. “How the hell did Chilly get you to agree to this? Does he have blackmail on you or something?”

“Well, I do have some pretty embarrassing drunken Snapchat videos-“ Ben begins to say, but your glare cuts him off and he shakes his head and laughs. “Nah, mate. She’s just the fucking best.”

Your heart skips a beat at that, but you don’t have too much time to think about why before Ben and Reece have changed the subject to football.

A photographer comes around to take photos of each table, and Ben rests his arm on the back of your chair and leaves it there afterward as the four of you continue to chat.

Ben and Reece eventually go to get you guys another round of drinks before the entertainment begins - though the boys will have to stick to water for the rest of the night unless they want to hear about it from Poch at training on Monday.

“You know, you two actually make a convincing couple,” Mia says with a wink when you two are alone at the table.

“Yeah, right,” you chuckle, fiddling with a cocktail napkin. “I’m glad you think it’s believable, though. The sooner we improve Ben’s image, the sooner we can stop doing this.”

Mia nods, though she still looks a bit uncertain. “Right, well, he owes you big time. There’s a lot of scrutiny that comes with being in the public eye. You’ll be taking on all the risk of dating a footballer without any of the reward. That’s really generous of you.”

Honestly, you hadn’t thought too much about how all of this might impact you. You just knew that Ben needed your help.

Although you’re a bit tempted to check Twitter and see if people have already begun to talk about you, you decide you’ll deal with that later and just try to enjoy your evening for now.

Your anxieties do ease significantly when Ben returns to the table with your favourite drink in hand and a smile on his face.

“You good?” he asks softly, leaning in close so only you can hear.

You nod, returning his smile. “Just a bit nervous still.”

“You’re doing amazing,” Ben says sincerely. “But I know this isn’t how you would want to spend your Friday night, so thank you.”

“For the millionth time, it’s no big deal,” you insist. “This isn’t so bad, anyways. I’m just overthinking everything like always.”

“Well, I want you to tell me if any of this gets to be too much, at any point, and that’ll be the end of it,” he says firmly. “Okay?“

You nod, meeting his soft gaze and feeling your worries melt away even more.

“Okay.”

As the lights dim and the musical entertainment for the evening begins, Ben’s arm once again finds its way to the back of your chair and his hand loosely plays with a strand of your hair.

It’s too dark for anyone but you to notice, but for some reason, you don’t bother pointing that out to him.

A/N: let me know what you think so far! hoping to have the next chap out soon :)

tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans​ @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll (let me know if you would like to be added!)

[aggressivenesswhilecrying]

Sugar threads

Summery:

With mumbo being far too tall, and far too skinny for any human, almost all of his clothes have to be hand made, with lots of love and care, to fit him. And who better then the local tailor, of which he is dating, who has quite a lot of love to spare for the redstoner?

No Tigger warnings!!

Not proof read or edited!!

(This is for an event by the name of @redscapeweek!! Day 4. Tailor/sharing clothes/vintage!!)

Mumbo had requested something he had never yet asked for. A dress. Now, scar is over the moon!! Thoughts fill his mind at every corner, ideas, designs, fabrics, all the sorts. Accessories and more.

The tall man himself had requested a blazer like top, and a skirt that went down just a little bit past his knees. And scar had fallen in love with the idea in seconds. A loud clicking sound leaving him in excitement, quickly rolling off to grab his sketchbook and look at fabric, mumbo following with a huff of noise.

"I- I wasn't even done talking!!" He laughed out, shaking his head as he bent down to fit through the doorway. Light streaming in through large windows overgrown with all sort of forestry. Rolls of fabric covering walls with a large simple desk in the middle. Sewing equipment thoroughly covering the desk. A large sewing machine on the left side. 

"Well I gotta be ready!! Mister mumbo, inspiration hit, and I can only help but follow its lead!!" He laughs lightly as he comes to a stop at his table, reaching for his notebook, he practically throws it open, jotting down the small amout of notes he already has. Clicking his tounge as he turns the page.

Mumbo leans slightly over his shoulder, fiddling with his hands as scar starts with a sketch.

"do you want it flowy or skin tight..?" He trails off a little, looking up at mumbo with eyes that seem to hold every possibility, every thought, everything. The way the brown eyes stay wide and scar grin at mumbo, has mumbos knees weak, and his heart soar. 

"I uh. The, the top I would like skin tight? The blazer? But, the actual dress part I uh, flowy? If that makes sense?" He asks with a bit of hesitance, an awkward smile on his own face.

Scar laughing softly as he jots it down. Adding to the sketch with a grin. "Well of course it is mumbo jumbo!! Why wouldn't it be?" He teases lightly, his eyes staring at the tall man's stature from the corner of his eyes. Said man almost folding more in on himself like he was punished.

"Well, it's, it's it like, we'll, complicated?" He chuckles, leaning down quite a good bit, practically on his knees to drape himself over the back of the wheelchair, and onto scar. Scar letting out a huff of a laugh at this.

"Complicated, won't stop me, remember that suit covered in fake flowers? That was far more complicated then this." He snorts. The sketch, and imagine of the dress blossoming under scars fingers.

With mumbos impossible hight, thin body, and sensory issues, almost everything has to be hand made for him to wear. Abd everything matters, down to the tag, the stitching, and the fabric.

It has to be made with love.

Lucky for mumbo 

Scar has a lot of love for the man, that he can pour into each outfit.

Moments past, and before either of them have the chance to notice, the sketch is down and scar is rolling off to the fabrics. Stopping at the blacks.

"Do you want to pick one that feels nice for the outside?" Scar asks with a chuckle as mumbo walks up, feeling along each fabric with care. Knowing that not only is the fabric expensive, but it must also feel safe. He stops at an almost silky one. Thick with a smooth feel to it. Plain black with lines on it, it a barely noticeable darker black. 

"I think this one will be nice..?" Without missing a beat, scar rolls over, looking at the number of the roll and writing it on his wrist.

It's easy to do the same with the rest. Selections of a red dress, following the silky feel. And a soft and warm white for the inside.

They realize it's easy to follow old habits, of mumbo spinning in circles as scar measures him. Scar kissing small areas he can reach, just to fluster mumbo, no matter how often he does it, the pale man still goes bright red, words getting caught in his throat. Mumbo and scar humming along to the same music. Scar joking the mumbo gets the boyfriend privilege of free clothes, Mumbo huffing out laughs in exchange as he makes a silly joke of how it's surprising that scar isn't trying to milk him out of every last Dimond, scar will comment how he'll milk him for something else with far too much confidence, ans then they'll develop into fits of giggles when scar realizes the implications of what he just said, with red faces. Mumbo sitting with scar and idling around the room on the days scar works on it. 

They never really change these days. They don't think they need to.

[sanajeh1909]

The Spy and The Spouse

Pairing : Chamber x F!Reader

Word Count : 5989

Warnings : Flirting, Romantic Tension, Spying/Action (only mentions of it, there is nothing much except the detailed description of whats happening), Jealousy, Unrequited Love (at the end on Chamber's part), Emotional Themes.

POV : 3rd Person

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

A/N : Sorry for my poor English, its not my native language. Chamber can be a bit OOC. Gif doesnt belong to me. Please do tell if there is any mistakes or off talks/writings on the scenario. There is so many expressions of the situation more than talks because i have no idea what to write as conversation, i have ran out of ideas. I had hard time writing this since i burnt my wrist accidentally now its hard to type without putting my wrist on the side of the keyboard. Yellow is for Chamber, Pink is for Reader, other colors are for side characters. I hope you enjoy it.

The day of the mission comes. She wears black one shoulder long sleeve black dress with black suede wedge heels. Her glasses are same design as Chamber's, except hers was thin framed and had soft edges on rectangular shape. Her hair is braided on both sides to the back and the rest of her hair is combed to the back. This made their hairstyles match.

While she was getting ready, Chamber put on his suit, matching her outfit perfectly. Chamber had been very particular about his own attire. The suit itself was black in color, it was a modern fashion design. It was tailored to his body to look as sharp as a knife. A crisp white shirt underneath was accompanied by a black tie with little black details. His hair, per usual, was undercut slickback.

When she finished, he walked in looking sharp and composed. When he saw the finished look, he was surprised to see how well put together she looked. Almost to a T to how she looked. Almost.

He raised an eyebrow at her look and expression, as if he were about to laugh at how ridiculous he found her similar sense of fashion. Then, he just grinned devilishly. Arent we a slick couple?

He was very confident in his appearance, as he should. After all, he was going to be playing the smug, arrogant husband. She smirks at him and walks towards him confidently. Her back is straight and her chin is slightly up. We will crush them just with our presence, it seems.

He couldnt help but admire how well you took the role of the wife. His eyes traveled upwards from your heeled shoes to the matching dress to your hair to the glasses that only gave you a more charming aura. One of his hand on his pocket, he offers his other arm to her and a smug smile on his face. I couldnt have picked a better partner. We make quite a pair.

She smirks at him and takes his arm. They get in the car, Chamber holding her door for her before going to the drivers seat. With Chamber driving to the party in silence, they are preparing themselves for the mission mentally.

As they arrive, they walk to the party with their arms intertwined. The party is filled with businessmen, CEO's and their spouses in simple yet classy dresses.

The host gives them both an appraising look before looking at Chamber. That look was followed by a small nod. Well, look at this. If it isnt Mr. and Mrs. Fabron. It was an odd feeling to have someone refer to her as a married couple. It was weird to be called Mr. and Mrs. Fabron, but it had a quite weird feeling that made her wanted to be called like that.

The man gesturs towards the crowd of guests. It was a variety of different types of people. The only unifying factor was money.

The moment they stepped inside was the second that the mission and the married couple act started. They even made custom rings to play along. That costed the couple more than they expected, but it would worth if it meant for success.

Chamber walks alongside of her, enjoying how her arm fit so nicely with his. He couldnt help but look at all the men who kept glancing up at her admiringly as they walk. He couldnt blame them. Even before he was a "married man", she looked good enough to make heads turn. All she had to do was show up.

He smiles at her side. He is still the charming bastard for the night. He whispers in her ear. This is going to be fun.

She smirks at his words and whispers back. Show has just begun, darling. Just watch and see.

He chuckled a little, liking this side of her. In the middle of his mission, he was finding himself to enjoy just being beside her. Being in this role of a married couple was different, it felt more... wholesome. It was... nice.

He gives her a little squeeze of her hand. He looks around, analyzing the crowd, looking for certain people. Alright. Just follow my lead, alright?

She nods. After all, he was more experienced than her in this type of situations, so the both had agreed to follow his lead. They have praticed and spend more time to get used to each other, but now they needed to put them all on the act.

Chamber turns his head to face you. He straightens his suit, making sure everything was clean before facing the guests. She was starting to get some glances. Some from men, and some from women. Of course, everyone thought she were just a beautiful woman with a handsome husband. No one suspected them being an undercover agent. They had to have their guards up. Especially in this kind of party.

A small smile crossed his face. This was going to be fun. Alright. Act, beloved wife.

Of course, mon mari~. She wears her most charming and sweet smile as they get close to a poseur table. The guests greets us and we greet them back.

Chamber does his best to make sure his smile looked both charming and smug. With her beside him, the smug smile had a little more genuine edge to it. With the guests, he looked at her with pride, like seeing his trophy wife. You played the part so damn well, how could he not show some pride? ;)

She takes a deep inhale, enjoying the feeling of the atmosphere around them. No one could tell the twi were anything but an extremely loving, happily married couple. No one would suspect a thing until him and her make a move. This had to be a good plan. This has to go well.

She pulls a waiter towards their table. Chamber looks at her out of the corner of his eye. He was making sure she was acting her part. Do you want something to drink, darling? She asks as she glances at the waiter, then she smiles at Chamber.

Chamber couldnt stop lookin at her. Acting and pretending felt... good, with her. She acter her part, like a good "married couple", and made the act so believable he almost forgot the reason they were there. This moment, the most intimate part of it all, was so convincing it blurred a line in his mind that he didnt know was there.

Chamber looks at her and whispers, still smiling. Your choice.

She smiles at him warmly, not too excessive to pull the attention to me, not insincere to look cold towards him. Then, im ordering Bordeaux Blend for you and for me... You choose. She gives him a subtle smirk with her voice is velvet-like and lowered.

He couldnt help but smile. In this moment, she acted so well, he would honestly consider taking her out of this plan and just make her his wife. He spoke in with a deep, warm and velvety tone, trying to match her. With a certain confidence, he orders a glass of champagne for her. This would work. A toast in advance...

After short while, waiter comes with the orders and they get their beverages. He turns his gaze towards her. For a successful mission.

She smiles at him. No one heard his sentence, that was a good thing. For our success.

A successful mission... and a successful marriage. He said the last part with a grin. It was half out of instinct, the other half just for show. It was part of the act, a married couple that planned their future together. Yet it was odd to him that he wanted that future with her, someone that came into his life at a most unusual time.

The people on the other tables clinks their glasses almost at the same time with them, then they take small sip from the beverage. It was time to wait for the perfect moment to strike. Her eyes slowly returns to scan the crowd. A lot of suspicioous types there... A lot of interesting people...

Chamber leans back slightly, his eyes sweeping across the party as he thought. His eyes landed on a certain target at the right side of the room, clearly a high-ranking businessman that looked to be talking to a woman in a nice dress.

He leans closer to her, lowering his voice to a whisper. You see that man on the right with the gorgeous woman? His name is Laurent Danton. I know him from previous missions. That woman he is been talking to is Anette Chavois, the CEO's daughter. Our mark.

She looks at the targets without making it obvious, then speaks in a tone that matches his. Yeah, lets keep an eye on them and approach carefully.

He whispers into her ear. I have been keeping an eye on him tonight, and the target always moves between drinks. Its perfect for us to take advantage of this.

He pulls his head back to look at her. As soon as he leaves his current target, we should make our move. Do you agree?

Yes, on your lead. She whispers to him, then both takes long sip from their beverages.

He gives her an enthusiastic nod and looks at his watch, keeping on eye on Mr. Danton from the corner of his eye. He could see that the man was getting into particularly... interesting discussion with the woman he was with, his right arm slightly draped on her shoulder. It looked to be a private conversation.

Chamber checks his watch once more, and with a slight flick of his head he indicates that its time. The couple puts their empty glasses on the tray that was on waiters hand which was passing by, then they make their move. Now the show is about to begin.

Once Mr. Danton took a few steps away from his partner, Chamber immediately moved towards the two, with her on his arm. The man looks at them, surprised to see the handsome couple approaching him. He offered a warm smile to Chamber and shifts his gaze to the stunning woman on Chamber's arm, offers a handshake while addressing her...

Laurent Danton. Pleasure. And you are?

She gives a smile mixed with a smirk. she shakes Laurent Danton's hand eleganty. Y/N Fabron.

Its clear Danton likes the sound of her name, and she is pretty sure he just took a long look at her. Danton has eyes for women, that much is clear. Not just any women, though. Women that are just as gorgeous as her. She could tell by the way his eyes were fixated on her.

Chamber speaks before Laurent can come up with a flirtatious comment directed his wife. Vincent Fabron. He shakes Danton's hand, then moves his hand towards her in a welcoming gesture. My wife. She bows slightly as if she is proud to be Vincent's wife, still smiling at the businessman.

Laurent's eyebrows raise. He looks between the two of them, then he chuckles, clearly impressed. What a beautiful couple you make, to have such a stunning and gorgeous woman with you, Mr Fabron. And his eyes lingered back at her. If they werent pretending to be wife and husband, the man would obviously be flirting with her left and right.

Chamber didnt look away but his arm tightened on her hand, and his eyes narrowed in a focused manner. He didnt like these kinds of people in the slightest. After a few moments of silence, he speaks with a casual tone, like this was a random encounter. So, i understand you are friends with Anette Chavois? Thats an interesting woman, if i have ever met one. The tone wasnt quite hostile... but it wasnt friendly either.

He directly went to the topic. No games, no subtle meanings... She still keeps smiling and strokes his arm slightly to signal him if something goes wrong, she will back him up.

A quiet smile on Laurent's lips. He notices that stroke, no doubt. He knew it was meant for him to signal if something was wrong. But she looked absolutely charming, and the fact that she was touching him was just as effective. Even the woman he was with tilted her head, looking at her with admiration.

Laurent clears his throat, his smile growing wider by the second. Of course, we are good friends. Anette and me, we go way back.

Chamber looks over at her and gives her a smug smile, proud of how she was able to carry herself. He then looks back towards Laurent. You two must have a lot to talk about then. He makes a small pause. Or perhaps i can steal my wife for a moment?

She chuckles softly, it was fake but it made the mood that was getting heavy a little bit lighter. Mr. & Mrs. Fabron could see the man considering the decision. He clearly wanted to say yes, being a man of status and privilege... but the hesitation came from him wanting to keep Y/N close, too. An excuse to have her nearby just to look at.

Laurent chuckles. Just for a moment. He gestures towards his partner. Anette looks at her again, her eyes studying Y/N, perhaps a little too intently. Y/N knew that look. Anette was jealous. Of her.

Y/N smiles and they take some steps back, to have some privacy away from the crowd, including the businessman and CEO's daughter.

Chamber turns to face her, speaking quietly so only she can hear his words. His tone was soft and sweet... Are you okay, wife?

His arms wraps around her waist, his eyes closing in satisfaction. She was the only thing he could focus on, like a beautiful distraction that would lead to a dangerous spiral. He was just making sure her part was going well.

She reaches a hand to the side of his neck, gently caressing, her hand trails down to his shoulder sometimes and trails back to his neck. I am, except the hungry looks of Laurent. If we werent on a mission, i would have taken care of him. But i have to bear it now. She speaks in quiet tone, almost playfully and pouting, but he knew she was serious on her words. She was clearly irritated by the flirtation of Laurent, but she was heeping the pose for the sake of the mission and Chamber.

His eyes narrowed slightly in irritation, his grip on her waist tightening in an almost possessive fashion. He was still playing the role, but the words were genuine. He didn't like the way these rich, flirtatious people tried to get at her. He gives a warm, friendly smile, but his eyes were stern. One hand stayed on her waist, the other hand ran across her shoulder to her neck. His thumb caressed her cheek.

Husband mode activated. If he so much as touches you, wife, I'll make him regret it. Dont worry, beloved wife. I will take care of this situation.

Then Laurent spoke up again, a clear tone of sarcasm in his question. Tell me, Mrs. Fabron. He was being far flirtier than anyone should, and he knew it. He was clearly enjoying it.

Chamber had no problems ignoring Danton's presence when she decided to keep talking to the man. If anything, it got him more irritated the longer the conversation with him went on. Laurent was just enjoying the situation a little too much… in an inappropriate manner. Chamber let out a quiet sigh, trying to keep his smile as polite as possible.

Laurent noticed the sigh, and he spoke up while giving him a smug smile.

Laurent seemed almost as arrogant as Vincent thought he would be. It wasn't a good look for a man in his position. It was good that he was an arrogant man, though, because it was exactly what Vincent wanted. What he needed. He was going to let the man have his arrogance, in order to catch him off-guard.

Chamber looked at her softly, wanting to protect her from this person…

Excuse me, Mr. Danton? She asks without turning her body towards Laurent, one hand on Chambers shoulder and other hand is on his arm. Chamber's arms are wrapped around her waist again. She gives a gentle smile to Laurent to not cause a scene, but her body language shows how much she got uncomfortable with his behaviors.

Laurent immediately stops, his eyes shifting towards her. It took more than a second to break the smile he gave. He turned to her, a charming grin on his face. One that could not hide his intentions. I did say just a moment, didn't I? He looked as though he couldn't help it; in fact, he was simply unable to take his eyes off Y/N. He looked at her with such a predatory smile. He gave off a certain aura that he was sure Anette was enjoying. No, she wasnt. She looked at Y/N with that familiar jealousy.

Y/N chuckles softly and let go of Chamber's shoulder, but then she holds onto his arm with both hands. Of course, you did, Mr. Danton. We got carried away, apologies.

The more she tried to act the part with Laurent, Anette's gaze didn't waver. Anette would glare at Y/N, as if to express how irritated she was by the situation. Her partner looked at Mrs. Fabron, Y/N, still with that predatory gaze and sly smile. All he would need was a simple word, and he would drop Anette right away. Y/N could see the attraction to her in his gaze. Y/N could almost feel Anette's jealousy behind her. Anette needed to look good to her own partner, and Y/N was certainly ruining that.

Anette rolls her eyes, obviously knowing the intention of both parties. She can't believe she has to share a partner with Mrs. Fabron. Anette looked like she wants to make a scene to get Laurent's attention back to her. She's the type who's used to having the attention on her. Anette clearly needs a lot of it.

Chamber is still in character, so he keeps a smile on his face. However, his grip slowly gets tighter and tighter on his partner's waist. He was getting genuinely annoyed by this flirtatious bastard.

Y/N feels the tight grip on her waist and puts her hand over his gently, their rings on their fingers were touching each other. She gently stroke his hand to calm him down.

Her hand was exactly the kind of distraction he needed. For a second, his attention was back on her, and her only. He looked to her, her hand stroking his, and the anger on his face slowly disappearing as his grip on her relaxed. The warmth of her hand put a grin back on his face.

He suddenly had a mischievous idea. He leaned in closer, as if they had something between them. He kept his voice low and calm, letting his eyes rest on Anette. Let's cut to the chase, darling. You know that won't last.

Y/N smirks at him. She had a plan and they found their targets, why miss them when they can catch them? Why don't we all sit and talk a little bit? She suggests to Laurent. By we, she meant all four of them, but she is sure he will accept it.

Laurent's expression changed a little, from the predatory and charming smile, to an expression of confusion and intrigue. He was clearly trying to read both of them, searching for their intentions. He looks back at Anette. Anette was still looking at her with anger, clearly not happy with how her partner was acting. He turned back to Mrs. Fabron with a grin. The more, the merrier, darling. Have a seat. He gestures towards the empty chairs. The four of them was certainly drawing a lot of attention from other guests.

Y/N smiles and they all four walk to the empty table enough for 4 people. They sit down on the table. Chamber next to her, Anette across her, and Laurent next to Anette and across Chamber.

Chamber looks at the table. He cant help but notice how close Anette and Laurent are sitting. It wasnt a matter of space at the table, it was an act of affection. A clear display to the other guests, as if it hadnt been clear already, this was a couple. Anette placed her hand on Laurent's, resting on the table. She wore a ring on it. A gold wedding band. Fabron couple saw a small glimpse of it.

Y/N was holding Chamber's hand and gave slight squeeze on his hand, signaling the ring on Anette's finger. Chamber feels her squeeze his hand and he returns the squeeze to reply that he saw the ring too. His eyes were on Anette and Laurent's interaction. They were… comfortable together.

Y/N was wondering how much longer she'd have to sit here in the presence of these people. She had a job to do. That was the only problem. But at that moment, all she wanted was to have a moment for just the two of them, Chamber and her. All they needed to do was get close to the Anette and Laurent, and make the couple trust them enough to give some information. except that everything was nothing but just empty words.

She waited and watched. Laurent and Anette's hand kept touching… and touching. Y/N's eyes wandered to see Anettes's face. Anette was clearly enjoying this conversation. She also noticed the woman kept glancing at Y/N and Chamber out of the corner of her eyes. It was like Anette was jealous, but Y/N couldn't say why. Chamber squeezes her hand again. He was just checking in with her. His grip on her hand was getting tighter. A sign he was getting impatient.

She strokes his hand, then starts a conversation to talk. An easy and light conversation that won't bother anyone. After a good hour, They all laugh and chat. They did their job and got the information they needed. They could leave after not so long.

Chamber gave a casual and handsome smile towards Laurent and Anette. His grip on her hand was starting to hurt, but he didn't care. He was too intent on ending this conversation. He also noticed her hand stroke on his a second time. So, Anette didn't manage to be in a corner of his attention anymore. All he could think about, all he could focus on, were her hands on his, and the way she looked at him with those beautiful eyes. He was too caught in the moment, almost forgetting his job.

Y/N turns her head around to look whats happening around them. Clearly bored from the atmosphere and the conversation yet she had to play it off. Chamber looks around and sees that some partners were looking at them with awe and admiration, some women with jealousy, and Anette with… jealousy as well. From the way Anette kept looking at her, he was sure his hypothesis were correct. …This might work. He looked at her. I have a plan I think you'll like.

Y/N looks at him confused, but they were partners, even if it was just an act, she had to trust him. Especially when they were on a mission.

Chamber takes a couple steps back, pulling her with him. He moves slowly, seductively, and with grace. He took some steps back, putting some space between the table Anette and Laurent were sitting and him and his partner. He grabbed her by the waist, his arms slowly pulling her in. His eyes never left hers, the same captivating look from before, just a little more intimate.

He started dancing with her on the spot. The music was slow, the atmosphere was right, and the way they kept looking at each other… It was perfect. Y/N turns her head around to look whats happening around them. There was a light romantic melody on the background and some couples were dancing together. They can do a little show before they leave, maybe?

She smirks as she understood what he was planning. She puts her hand on his shoulder as they dance, they were close enough to whisper to each other. She whispers with a smirk. You really put on a show, Mr. Fabron. She teases him with the title. He really knew what he was doing.

He just pulls her closer to him with a smirk, his face looking even more smug than usual. At that moment, his eyes locked on Anette's for a moment. The predatory and arrogant look was still there, but it changed ever so slightly. He was observing Anette's behavior. His hand slowly slides up to the back of her neck. It was so warm, so soft. He leans in closer to her ear, whispering with confidence. Did you enjoy the show, darling?

She couldn't help but chuckle, but She tried her best to keep the smug smile on her face. The music was perfect for this kind of slow dance. It has so far worked, beloved Fabron. She looks around the room, seeing all the eyes on them, all the eyes on the two of them.

He pulls his head back. Just enough to see her face, and just enough for her to see that grin. He slowly drags his fingertips across her face, tracing her mouth and chin, still staring at her. The way she looked at him, the way her eyes locked on his. He couldn't look away. Your body is amazing. He whispers. His lips are very close to hers, but the man decided against the last step… yet he was inches away, his mouth at a perfect distance from hers.

The couple was dancing together. As much as Anette hated it, that much was obvious. But even while she looked at the two of them with jealousy, there was no denying it: they were quite the couple. Anette was clearly starting to question her relationship with Laurent after seeing the way he kept looking at Y/N.

Y/N smirks at him, she knew his intention and whispers. Oh, my husband wants kiss? She chuckles softly. I hope you still remember this all is just an act at the end of the mission. I hope your heart won't break after a pretentious kiss.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her teasing. She was too bold sometimes. Still, he couldn't resist. Still inches away from her lips, he leans closer, his eyes locked on hers. He whispered, loud enough for only her to hear. …I do get to kiss my beautiful wife, right? She chuckles silently. Then… their lips meets in a tender, gentle, slow kiss.

It was everything he expected it to be, and so much more. His eyes lit up when she kissed back, their lips touching for those precious, blissful moments. He pressed his lips against hers, matching the same gentle and slow pace. This kiss was tender and beautiful, an act of pure affection. Even if they had to lie, even if this moment was going to be just for a short instant, the two of them kissed, as passionately as any husband and wife would kiss. But they had a job to do.

Their lips part away after the short kiss. She speaks whispering and teasingly as they walk back to the table. Be grateful my lipstick doesn't come off.

Even though he knew he shouldn't, the grin on his face widened. Somehow the kiss made him feel more confident and smug than usual, and he was completely aware of it. I would have been happy to get it off your face anyway. I wouldn't mind the red lipstick on my face. He gave her a devilish look, enjoying the little fun he was having, if not enjoying the mission itself.

She rolls her eyes and chuckles. It was time to leave, since Anette and Laurent was ready to leave this "businessmen party".

Chamber glances at Laurent and Anette, whose eyes were still on the two of them. Their eyes seemed to give off a different kind of energy now, like the kind of people who just got to the end of the perfect date. Anette seemed more enamored than ever, but Laurent seemed… different. Almost as if he was jealous. Jealous of Chamber for being Y/N's husband. Chamber checks his watch. It was time for them to wrap things up.

Chamber turns and addresses the four of them. We have had a lovely night, wouldnt you agree, chérie?

She smiles at him gently. Thats right, it was a pleasant night, mon mari.

He turns his body ever so slightly towards her, keeping his eyes locked on her. He then raises a hand in the air. A small gesture of leaving the party.

Chamber's gaze suddenly turned towards Laurent, their eyes locked, like if they were trying to outstare eavh other. Laurent looked away first, almost reluctantly. He could barely hide his annoyance, like he had the worst case of jealousy.

Y/N could feel Anette squeeze Laurent's hand, and a soft kiss on his cheek. She whispered something into his ear, and Laurent let a smile creep onto his face as he nodded. He didn't look at Y/N anymore.

We should go. Chamber's smirk returned.

She bows slightly and they both turn towards the exit, arms intertwined. She whispers to him, clearly exhausted and frustrated from everything. Finally.

He gave her a charming smile. Their mission was successful, and she did a great job being his wife for that period of time. His eyes fell on her lips, as if there was something to say but he chose not to say it. He held on a little more strongly to her arm. He just enjoyed the intimacy of being with her, like the most devoted husbands might do.

I feel like we should celebrate our success somehow. He smirks, looking like he had a few ideas on his mind.

I want to celebrate it by taking my shoes off and jumping in my bed for a good night's sleep. She speaks clearly irritated by the party, act and Laurent's flirting.

He cant help but chuckle and look at her sideways, rolling his eyes. He smirks at her playfully, still clearly trying to look like the most loving husband. I think i have the perfect remedy for that... He leans in closer. In the meantime, can my wife walk next to me, arm in arm, with a smile in that gorgeous face of hers? He looks at you with more than just a hint of affection.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Chamber opens the door for her, she slumps on the passenger seat. He gets in driver's seat. Lets just end this mission. And since we are done with pretending to be a happy married couple... She takes the ring out of her finger and puts it on the cup holder of the car.

If his eyes could go any wider, they would. His smile disappeared from his face, and was replaced by confusion. His reaction wasnt due to pain or sadness, it was due to the sudden change in tone. His confident, happy-go-lucky expression turned into a look of surprise... followed by something.

She could feel that something in his eyes. It was like a tiny flicker, but she saw it. He couldnt help but look surprised... and disappointed. He turned his gaze away. ...Of course. He starts the car.

She stares at the road in silence whole time back to the quarters. All the act, all the pose of married couple ended. She had told him in the first place, after this ends, everything will be over. Now everything ended, and they were going back to how they were.

Chamber kept driving. The radio was off, the windows slightly open, with a beautiful night and a clear sky outside. The silence was awkward, to say the least. His eyes were focused on the road, while his hand gripped tightly to the steering wheel. His face was emotionless, while his eyes were filled with regret. In such an odd way, even though the act was a lie, he felt hurt. Because of his role, because of who the target was, and because of her.

As he parks his car on the parking lot of headquarters, she had fallen asleep on the passenger seat on their way back after all the tiredness of the mission washed over her.

He opened the door and saw her asleep. His eyes looked down at her, her face so peacefully serene as she slept. He gave a small smile. He was proud at how well she managed to act for most of the time. He wasn't proud of something else, though. He got the ring from cup holder and put it on his jacket's pocket.

He gently picked her up so that she wouldn't wake up. With his arm under her legs and the other supporting her back, he walked to her room to lay her down. The way he walked and his face said: "I just want to take care of you."

He placed her on the bed, her body looking like a sleeping angel. He then sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep as he stroked her hair with extreme tenderness. His face was still expressionless, but his eyes gave the expression away. The look of... Love. He loved her. But that feeling would have to wait. He looked at the ring on the coffee table. He had to keep telling himself he had a job to do.

He placed her down carefully. He pulled the blanket up to my chin and he took off her shoes for her, placing them on the side of the bed. He then turns the light off, but he just stands there. Still no words, nor any hint of movement. He is just watching over her as she sleeps. Making sure she is comfortable. Making sure she is okay. Doing what a husband would do for their partner. It was an affectionate yet sad sight, if one could call it that. He had placed the ring she took off to the table on the bedside. She was still sleeping, her hair draped over the pillow, the blanket over her.

Chamber looks at her. He sees the beautiful and fragile features of her face, and the way she sleeps peacefully and serenely. He couldn't help but place a soft, tender kiss on her forehead. He lingered for a second, letting his lips linger, but he knew time was of the essence. He walked out, turning off the lights behind him, leaving her room pitch black.

On his way to his room, he turns towards her door once more. His chest filled with conflicted emotions, he turns away and enters his quarters, leaving her to rest. The mission was over, but his heart remained undecided.

He enters his own room. He sits down on his bed, looking at the bed beside his own. His face has an expression she've never seen, an expression that he had never expected. He was thinking about her. About the one woman who had the power to change his life. The one woman who made him feel both warm and cold. The one woman who made him feel so much affection and love at the same time. The one woman who could break his heart.

He throws himself on his bed to lay down. As if he was too annoyed with himself. Too much work, too much acting. His head spun with emotions. The mission was over. So why did his heart feel like a trainwreck?

Sorry if this sucks with too much explanation and lacking conversation and mission scenes/action. I had hard time to write something good and it was hard to type with burnt wrist so it took longer than intended. I hope this meets with your expectations.

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 42 - service worker fashion in 1922

Back to the Downstairs wardrobes, although either there have no new maid uniforms been introduced this season, or I missed out on it because we now have no regular housemaid anymore on the main and regular cast, what with both Anna and Edna now being lady’s maids.

Some things never change though – it took me a while to realize this is even another dress than that which Mrs Hughes wore in season 3, but yes, it is. The lace is a little different, the lace panel altogether reaches up higher and has the cutest little black trim embroidery, the central row of black buttons goes all the way down, and this top has both a collar and something like a little tone-in-tone soutache framing the white panel. But Mrs Hughes sticks to her style.

So I’m shocked to see her wear a not-black blouse on the job. The fabric is a little off-white, but the lighting makes it impossible for me to tell you if it goes closer to beige to grey. I do like that little wavy design in the front, and that the collar gives Mrs Hughes the chance to wear that pretty silver brooch. On one occasion she combines this with… really more of a vest that a waistcoat, I think, because this isn’t tailored; it seems to be there for warmth rather than anything else.

No shade to the coat from last season, but this one is better. Check out that shawl collar with the little soutache additions on the sides. And it’s a pinstripe, so I’m biased. I would like to take a closer look at the trim of her cuffs, but mostly this picture gets a chuckle out of me because of the way Mrs Hughes and Daisy stand next to each other: Put a grey band on the black hat and a black band on the grey hat! A spot of color, at least for the younger woman? Nah!

Mrs Hughes can have an almost-spot of color for the beach day; at least I think this blouse is ever so slightly blue. It’s some of the comfiest and most casual she’s worn in her entire run, and with the only decoration being these little strips of tone-in-tone lace insertions, this is definitely for a leisurely day out, not for a fancy day out. I do love the little straw hat though – look at all these flowers! So pretty!

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Nanny Bitchface West is only around for one episode, and although there is a successor, no Nanny after her is a named character, so this is all the costumery we’ll get. Dark blue dress with a simple white collar and cuffs, all very clean and streamlined. Her cap looks a lot like those of the housemaids. To be honest, despite her being ostensibly above the servants, she doesn’t look one iota fancier than the lowest of them? And there’s this strange style of apron again – tied around the waist, but the front pinned to the dress.

Another dress she wears is this stripey number, but I can’t see a whole lot of it beside a wide dark waistband. Drop waist? Don’t know her. A dark blue cape that I find mildly intriguing because we don’t actually see a lot of capes on this show – most people wear coats with sleeves and the whole shebang. But then, this doesn’t have anything except a couple buttons. And the hat looks really shabby. Yo, if you’re only around to be kinda loathsome, you could at least be fashionably interesting!

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Woo, Mrs Patmore has a new dress! And it looks barely any different from the previous, except it’s speckled green instead of plain grey, but it has the same shape, the same high collar, pin tucks in the front… Did she ever even get a new apron after season 1? Because this is not the rectangular apron shape everyone else is wearing at this point. This narrow-in-the-waist front is way outdated.

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Anna, now a lady’s maid, is banished to the realms of all-black dresses. Shame, but let’s see. Gathered sleeves, a nice-enough neckline (at least it’s a step up from O’Brien’s half-high ruffle collars), and the front is done up in what seems to be velvet stripes, giving this at least a little interest.

The basic material of the first one looks pretty much the same as the previous dress; could be silk satin if Upstairs felt generous. I like the scallops down the front and I’m a sucker for buttons, so I don’t hate it. It gets a spot of shiny, too, with that little buckle, because the fashionable waist shape is optional. Can’t see much on the second, but the fabric is more on the matte side here, and instead of a collar, it just has a square neckline.

The drop waist does show up here though – apparently, Anna can choose to wear the fashionable silhouette if she wants to, as lady’s maids have more of a dress code than a uniform. I like the upper dress with that V both in the front and the back, and the fabric looks like a damask, but the under layer somehow manages to look a little purple by comparison. Light is strange on black fabric.

Anna also has a new coat this season, and although it’s quite a black affair and I’m really craving some color here (and I'm also pretty certain that Daisy wears this coat to London when the household goes there in the season finale), I thought the two buttons that make up the closure are too charming to pass up entirely. Asymmetry occasionally draws the eye to just the right spot.

Out of the ever same dull black dresses, into leisure fashion. Anna has this grey chiffon dress that I find quite interesting to look at, not by virtue of the black and white speckle, but because it seems to have a sort of scale structure to it. Nice. And because we’re allergic to color here, a dark grey hat with a silver grey ribbon, although the latter is at least knotted up to something like a flower motif. Anna didn’t seem to like the dress though; when it comes back in season 6, it’s Miss Baxter who wears it for the wedding of Carson and Mrs Hughes. Only she has a fancy printed scarf to put on top of it.

For the nicest dress Anna has this season, she shows up in the palest, most washed-out green they could find, but it holds a little of my favor with pinstripes. There is a bit of yellow embroidery on the middle panel that looks hand-made; perhaps Anna did it herself.

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Do we ever get an explanation why Edna suddenly turns from blonde to ginger between seasons? Is it so we know she’s Evil™? Because no worries; the sexual assault kinda tipped me off. Anyway. Two more boring black lady’s maid dress. The first already has no interesting fabric or decoration beyond a few seams on the collar, down the front and on that little arrow element over her chest. And the second has even less than that. The keyhole neckline is pretty much all I can see. Can’t look too conspicuous when you roofie people!

But hey, Edna cannot afford one, but two coats! This first one is quite cute; I like the coral corduroy and this double-button configuration. The buttons themselves seem to be brass and are engraved to look a little like flowers. And then the collar betrays some brown velvet lining, although it doesn’t quite match the brown shade of her hat.

If the previous coat is kinda cute, this one is chic. This is the one she wears for a job interview, and I can see why: There’s not a single wrinkle on that front or collar; this fits her like it’s been tailored to the millimeter. It’s got the tiniest little bit of soutache on the sides, but mainly, this impresses with its clean lines and smooth surface. I’ll admit it: I’d wear that coat. Not the hat though. Why grey felt? You could’ve picked a color for this when the rest if the outfit is just brown and a tiny bit of grey checker blouse peeking out.

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Three lady’s maids this season means three sets of boring black dresses. Why do these poor women have to run around like they are in perma-mourning? Anyway, Miss Baxter. First picture tells me that she doesn’t mind some pin tucks and a little scalloped trim framing her collar. Which, I should hope so; one of the first traits of her personality introduced is that she can handle an electric sewing machine. Which is more than can be said about me. The second dress has some nice flower embroidery.

Miss Baxter wears a light blue drop waist dress to the beach, which is some of the most spectacular we’ve seen on a lady’s maid since Edwardian fashion is dead. It does not only have pin tucks in the shoulders, it also has a lace under layer for the neckline. And white embroidery not only on the collar, but over the entire skirt! Let’s look at the cuffs. I love these cuffs; they have adorable little buttons. Add a cloche hat with a patterned light brown wrap, and this is the height of fashion we’ll see her in all season.

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Daisy just keeps most of her already-established dresses for the kitchen, so we’ll skip to her leisure time clothes. Because while the cardigan seems familiar (tbh I could swear that was Ivy’s in season 3), that pleated skirt is new! It looks a little bluer than the jacket, and it’s either structured or printed with a pattern; I’m not sure. The blouse, if period-typically baggy, is cute with its blue-and-green checker, and the hat has the exact same shape and making as the one she had last season; only this one is striped instead of one solid color. I’m glad that, now that Daisy is a widow well into her mid-twenties, they’ve mostly stopped dressing her like a little girl.

That’s not to mean I begrudge her the girly looks. She has this dress for the beach, and it’s cute and all – and carries through with her being dressed in salmon-adjacent colors when Ivy is around in blue shades. The embroidery is nice, pink and blue flowers dotting these brown-speckled areas, and the ribbon around her straw hat ties in similar colors in an art deco-ish ornament. I don’t know what purpose the hat serves tbh. Since she shields her eyes with her hand when looking at someone before her, the hat with its lattice brim doesn’t seem to do much sunscreening.

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Ivy’s kitchen dress is also still the same as last season, but she goes on dates now so the pretty bitch boy can try to take advantage of her, so, new look! I wonder who made this shirt for her. I mean, it’s a sandy grey, so it doesn’t look like much, but someone had to sit down and crochet this. Did she buy it or did she or someone in her family make it?

Back to her good old straw hat for the beach. This dress is not a whole lot different than the one Ivy wore to the fair last season, yet it is a new one. White with vertical light blue stripes; Ivy has her style and keeps it. The new dress has a drop waistband and a point collar, and while it’s not the peak of fashion, it looks the ideal choice for a beach day, loose, breezy, comfy.

[inboxinspirations]

30 Starters For Muses Who Are Tailors And Those Who Interact With Them

"Let me take your measurements."

"For what occasion is this outfit?"

"I don't know about this. Isn't it a bit too revealing?"

"Can you make some adjustments to this?"

"How about this fabric? The color really brings out your eyes."

"I made some sketches of possible designs. Would you like to see?"

"We are not dressing your vanity, we're dressing your figure."

"How do you feel about the fit? Is it too tight, too loose, or just right?"

"What did you do to this? I might as well you tailor you something new."

"This pattern is a bit much. I'd prefer something a bit more simple."

"Your outfit is ready. Try it on! I'll make adjustments if needed."

"I need something special to wear for an upcoming event. I was hoping you could help me with that."

"I got something for you to patch up."

"It turned out amazing! My best work I think."

"When do you think this will be ready?"

"Stand still! I can't measure you like this."

"Please try on the garment so I can see how it fits."

"Can you walk around in it for a bit? I want to see if it fits right."

"I don't know about this. Isn't it a bit much?"

"You can't rush art! This is going to take a while."

"Do you want the same fabric as your last suit or do you want to explore another option?"

"Can you add some extra pockets to this?"

"This fabric is nice. Do you have a different color?"

"I don't know about the color. It's a bit bright for me."

"Fits like a glove. Perfect!"

"This will really accentuate your figure."

"Are you interested in any customizations or embellishments?"

"Would you like this fitted tight or loose?"

"Let me patch that up real quick. It'll only take a moment."

"I love how this turned out! It's so comfortable too."

[alwaysmychoices]

I know we see him a lot in suits and fancy clothes because of his FC but if we take that away… what kind of clothes do you HC Ethan wears? For work, casual and at home. Do you think he likes designer clothes, or he’ll just go with whatever he likes? Is there one thing no one would think The Ethan Ramsey wears but you totally see him wearing? What do you think was his style before becoming a Doctor and/or being rich?

Ethan is the kind of guy who buys something nice and takes care of it so it lasts for decades. He grew up in a single parent household where Alan worked hard to provide for them. He's always appreciated the value of caring for your things, and he learned how to very young. While Alan worked long hours, Ethan picked up the slack at home and became an expert mender and launderer (so much so that he briefly considered surgery but will never admit that today).

Today, he has nice, luxury pieces that are well loved. He only ever buys the basics -- leather shoes, crisp dress shirts, soft cashmere sweaters, well-cut pants, quality coats, and classic jeans. He's never wearing anything flashy or trendy, but he always looks put-together. If it's trendy, he won't touch it. He only wants to buy things that will suit his tastes for the next twenty years, and he naturally gravitates to simple clothes. He has a few exceptions -- new tennis shoes to avoid injury while running, an overwhelming sweater collection, a new watch every now and then, and a nicely tailored suit -- but he avoids shopping when he can help it.

Ethan has a series of uniforms. At work, he wears a dress-shirt, tie, and black slacks. Socially, he looks nearly the same, except he may roll up the sleeves, don a sweater, or trade slacks for jeans. He's always a touch too formal for outings with Charlie's friends, but for truly casual affairs, he has a stash of plain t-shirts waiting. At home, he looks less polished but still basic -- sweatpants, old t-shirts, unbuttoned dress shirts, etc. Formal affairs are marked by well-tailored, black suits. At most, he'll pick a neon pair of tennis shoes, but those mornings are rare.

Before making his fortune, Ethan dressed the same -- just a bit more casual and with less expensive pieces. He famously wore jeans and a plain tee every day during college and only added in more interesting outfits when he had to layer to fight the northeast cold.

Despite always having simple tastes, he amassed a collection of zany t-shirts and torn up sweatpants that he refuses to part with. Every time he received a free t-shirt, he saved it and wears it around the house or to workout. Charlie tries to convince him to get rid of some of the older ones, like a t-shirt for a pizza place he got in college that is riddled with holes, but he refuses. There's no use in wasting the clothes, especially when they still perform their basic functions. Even when they're far beyond wearing anymore, he keeps them for sentimental value. He likes to remember what it was like to be young and hungry, and those hole-filled t-shirts remind him of how far he's come.

[soulspeaksfashion]

SANDY LIANG SS25 by RACHEL BATASHVILI

view collection here.

collection description: n/a

my overall rating: 6/10

this collection has a sort of early 2000s, lates 90s charm to it. some pieces are kinda ugly but in a cute way? or rather a nostalgic way. some of the collection gives off corporate barbie vibes and i’m living for it! for my first introduction to the brand, i think it’s fairly nice. there was nothing absolutely revolting, and while it didn’t revolutionize anything, i love the blast to the past vibes it brings.

(click keep reading for all images i included!) 

♱ ───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────── ♱

super 90s corporate girly

this section will almost exclusively include looks that i thought were styled down.

1) there's just something about this coat paired with tiny green shorts that really eats at my hear. even the shape of the jacket, it sorta puffs out in the front. i love that. 2) this green set!! i want i want i need! i know i doesn't do anything special but omg does it look good. and i think it fits the collection. would love to see the top cropped. 3) [this is look 20] i am a big fan of big top little bottom and this is perfection!!! it's so sleek, so minimal. idk i love.

1) barbie!! i love the length of this dress, the pattern/texture, i even love the boxy silhouette. it's so so pretty ( i am not living for the necklace but oh whale). 2) this is such a casual outfit. i'd buy both of these pieces (the jeans more than the shirt) but style them differently. 3) there were different versions of this but i honestly like this one. i love a simple black look, plus it fits really well. and the concept is executed sooo nicely.

♱ ───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────── ♱

ugly nostalgia

this section will almost exclusively feature looks that i only enjoyed elements of.

these are giving disney channel prom. these are dresses i'd see in really old movies, and i love love love that the designer was able to capture the essence of a time period here. would i ever wear these? probably not. but i would love to see these in a tv show wardrobe

1) it's just wrinkled!! i love the color combo though! 2) the tailoring is not tailoring. this is look 19 for comparison.

♱ ───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────── ♱

there was nothing ugly honestly!! so yay!

♱ ───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────── ♱

viewing thoughts:

i am a minute and a half in, some of these pieces are very wrinkled and stiff, not sure if that is intentional but it does look a bit off. also the fitting, i’m not loving, but it’s not the worst thing i’ve seen. i saw a comment on youtube that said “NYC 90s corporate girly” and i agree. i lowkey love the styling of these pieces, but i’m not a fan of the shapes. very boxy, very straight, at least the bottoms are. and that isn’t what i prefer personally, but still cute. i honestly think this collection is really nice, it’s very girly, very chic, i think the tailoring is what’s holding it back the most. you can see what i’m talking about with looks 19 and 20. same look but the fits are very different. so i’d say, at least for the runway, there needs to be more fittings and whatnot. can't say i hate anything.

i kinda love hair and makeup, the accessories, it’s all very cute. the shoes could be different. but i digress. 

venue: 3/5 i love the nostalgia. usually such a basic venue wouldn’t get this high of a rating but! i think it adds to the overall theme.

casting: 6/10 i wish there was more diversity in the way the models looked.

♱ ───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────── ♱

sustainability: 0/5

my sustainability rating is currently based on transparency and accessibility of currently available information

much like other brands i’ve recently review, there is no information in the brands website about sustainability, and they have a poor rating on good for you. here is a report by sustainability directory which gives them a score of 2 as of 13/07/24 (it’s deffo july!). 

[hillslicensing-blog]

Edgy Sophistication: Outfit Ideas Featuring the Black Leather Biker Vest for Women

New Post has been published on https://ashipwreckinthesand.com/edgy-sophistication-outfit-ideas-featuring-the-black-leather-biker-vest-for-women/

Edgy Sophistication: Outfit Ideas Featuring the Black Leather Biker Vest for Women

Edgy Women’s Black Leather Vest Outfit Ideas

A black leather vest womens is one of the most ‘bold and edgy’ outfits. Anchoring many ensembles elevates the ordinary. In fashion, where textures, layers, and eras combine, a black leather vest represents revolt, elegance, and uncompromising uniqueness.

Consider starting with a white T-shirt and jeans. A black leather vest looks excellent against this timeless fashion combination. The vest adds intricacy and edge, turning the look from casual to street-style cool. The soft, broad appeal of the t-shirt and jeans contrasts with the harsh, rebellious leather, creating an interesting visual and physical contrast. Add combat boots or high-top sneakers to your outfit to make a statement.

Why stop there? Versatility makes a black leather vest beautiful. For a feminine look, replace jeans with a maxi skirt. This outfit contrasts the skirt’s delicate fabric with the leather’s toughness and mobility with the vest’s solidity. It’s an outfit that reflects our inner power and gentleness. Adding ankle boots and simple jewelry makes this outfit edgy and lovely.

A black leather vest makes day-to-night transitions effortless. A high-waisted pencil skirt and blouse make it professional and seductive. An unexpected addition to a suit, the vest breaks the 9-to-5 uniform. You stand out in a sea of suits and pencil skirts with office flair. Stiletto heels and bright earrings make this outfit appropriate for a night out with friends.

Throw the black leather vest over a tailored dress for a bolder look. This style mixes a dress’s formality with a leather vest’s rebelliousness. This daring evening outfit shows you’re comfortable taking risks and breaking fashion norms. The vest adds depth and character to a sleek bodycon dress for a modern, edgy style or a lace dress for contrast.

Black leather vests match the boho style. When worn with wide-legged jeans and a flowy shirt, they elevate boho chic. Bohemian style’s laid-back, free-spirited vibe must balance leather’s cutting, defiant edge. A creative and harmonious costume can include layered necklaces, wide-brimmed hats, and platform sandals.

Try layering a black leather vest over a turtleneck sweater for a unique look. The unexpected combination of knitwear’s warmth and leather’s edginess is surprising. This stylish and practical appearance works nicely in chilly months. It’s a modern yet classic look with skinny jeans and ankle boots.

Black leather vests change more than just style. This item conveys confidence and a willingness to stand out and be unique. The black leather vest declares, “This is who I am.” in a world where fashion equals self-expression.

The black leather vest also speaks to leather’s durability and desirability. Leather has been used for millennia for its durability, adaptability, and beauty. A vest combines these traits, making it fashionable, functional, and durable.

In conclusion, the black leather vest is a tool for self-expression and gracefully navigating fashion’s complexities. It can be worn with jeans and a T-shirt for a casual style, over a dress for a night out, or with bohemian-inspired pieces for a distinctive look.

Women’s Black Leather Vest: Transitional Weather Mastery

In fashion, the black leather vest women save the day as the seasons change. This underappreciated garment is a powerhouse of adaptability and design, making it essential for layering and managing transitional weather. This garment is vital for layering since it can adapt, modify, and elevate any outfit, not just its material or color.

The black leather vest is ready to connect the seasons as summer turns to fall or winter to spring. Its sleeveless style allows easy layering and movement, making it ideal for cool-to-warm days. Wearing a long-sleeved shirt or sweater gives warmth without the bulk of a leather jacket. This makes it desirable when the morning and afternoon are cold.

Black leather vests are stunning. It may make a plain outfit stand out with its edginess and refinement. Add a leather vest to a white blouse or lightweight knit dress to reinterpret it. Contrasting textures and colors provide depth and modernity to the outfit, which is hard to do with other clothes.

Creative people use black leather vests as canvases. Layers, textures, and accessories are encouraged. Picture it over a flannel shirt for a grungy look or with a silk scarf for roughness and elegance. Personalization options are infinite, letting everyone express themselves through their clothes. This versatility makes the vest a staple for people who see fashion as a constant expression of themselves.

The black leather vest is elegant and functional. Leather is windproof and an excellent outer layer for mild rain. Unlike full-sleeved transitional jackets, sleeveless jackets can be worn over thicker layers without restricting movement. Usability and style make the vest beneficial, protecting it without losing style.

Urban fashion changes quickly, but the black leather vest remains. The city’s durability, adaptability, and ageless style are reflected. It gives a hoodie or graphic tee street style and rebellion. Its high fashion and streetwear adaptability make it vital for women’s current wardrobes.

The vest’s ability to layer for warmth and style is crucial in transitional weather. In autumn and spring, clothing can be tedious, but the vest gives variety. It lets you alter your clothing by layering lengths, materials, and styles.

In women’s fashion history, the black leather vest is distinctive. It mixes leather with women’s clothing to challenge femininity and strength. This contrast represents the modern woman multifaceted, resilient, and unafraid to mix masculine and feminine styles. It shows how fashion now emphasizes individualism and shattering stereotypes.

The black leather vest is unmatched as an investment. Leather is one of the few wardrobe mainstays that improves with age, gaining character and softness. This longevity and timeless appeal keep the vest a staple in the wardrobe long after fashion trends change.

When change is the only constant in the seasonal dance, the black leather vest offers stability and style. More than just a garment, it symbolizes durability, ingenuity, and leather’s enduring appeal. The black leather vest can elevate, change, and inspire, whether you’re managing transitional weather or adding edge to an outfit.

[soubi122]

Atelier - PT 1

Hello everyone, I apologize for the long gap! This is a mini series that may run 3 or 4 chapters. Enjoy!

Mitsuya x Reader, suggestive, brief smut, slow burn. (Timeskip Mitsuya from Bonten Timeline) NO MINORS PLEASE! MDNI!

Part 1 - Lace

Love wasn’t something you really believed in, it was always something that you would see in movies or hear in songs. When couples would walk down the street showing affection towards each other, it made you feel a little sick - there was nothing wrong with them but your brain and heart couldn’t process it as you never felt love before. Relationships never lasted, you couldn’t get attached to anyone and when you were finally feeling something - the other partner would call it quits. Nights were often spent alone, sex was just sex with no real attachment and it was just a give and take. Then, things spiraled out of control when you met him. 

You found this person online while searching for a tailor who could fix a dress that belonged to your mother - it was her wedding dress. You promised her you would keep it safe and either hand it to your siblings, nieces, your kids or even wear it yourself if you ever got married. The last two were now nothing but a joke, still you promised to keep it safe. Unfortunately, it got a little damaged when moving. After days of searching around you finally found someone who wasn’t charging an arm and a leg for the alterations and repairs. It was simple - rehemming and fixing the zipper, so you were excited to find someone who was giving a fair price. The guy was barely starting his business and you could tell that he was eager to take on new things that will help build his portfolio. A few exchanged emails and calls, you both agreed for a time and date to bring in the dress. 

With the phone in your hands, you dialed the man’s number and waited for him to pick up. After two rings, he picked up with a sweet, “Hello?” His voice was so soft and soothing. “Hi Mr. Mitsuya - it’s (y/n), I’m downstairs.” You say and he responds by saying he’s on his way down. When he opened the door to let you in - you were taken back a bit, he was young and handsome. You half expected an older gentleman to be the person in contact. He was dressed in your typical work attire, had measuring tape around his neck, a pin cushion on his wrist and sketching pencil tucked behind his ear. Wow, he’s beautiful… You think to yourself. The warm and inviting smile on his face made you feel something new. “It’s nice to meet you, please come in.” His voice sounded so much better in person than it did over the phone. You nodded and followed him up the stairs. Upon entering you noticed his place was a small atelier, he was the only one there and didn’t have any other assistants or employees. 

Scattered along the tables were multiple fabrics, spools of colored threads, pins and different cutting materials. There was also a couch, a few different tables, stools, and mirrors. He had about 4 mannequins dressed with various dresses and outfits, they were beautiful - was he tailoring them for someone or perhaps…were these his? You felt your eyes wander around, until they finally landed on a few completed sketches on his desk where the sewing machine was. Noticing that you were looking around, he spoke. “I apologize for the mess.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “Are these your designs? They’re beautiful.” He nodded, he noticed how your eyes sparked when looking over the designs - it was something he rarely sees when having clients over. “May I take a look at the dress?” You got lost in following the patterns and colors on the paper, you almost forgot what you came here for. “Oh, yes - sorry about that.” He chuckled and cleared the table so you could lay out the dress. 

Unzipping the garment bag, you pulled the dress out and laid it on the table letting Mitsuya examine the condition of the fabric and threading style. “It’s a beautiful dress, you said this was your mother’s?” He asked as he ran his fingers across the fabric and pulled it closer for him to admire the pattern of the lace. “Yes, I promised I would take good care of it.” You glanced up and noticed the expression on his face, he was so concentrated but his facial features still remained soft. A small shiver went down your spine as you unknowingly admired his handsome features. The delicate way his hands ran over the fabric started giving you palpitations, making you bite your lip and slowly exhale. What is going with me? He spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts. “There are a few areas that require some alterations, it looks like some of the fabric was torn - if it’s not repaired, it can fray and come apart.” Oh no. That’s what you were afraid of, having irreparable damage to the dress that no tailor can fix. “Is there a set time frame you need this in? We can set a timeline for alterations and fittings.” Huh? Was he assuming you were going to use this dress for a wedding? “Oh there is no rush and I’m not getting married.” You snickered and waved your hands in front of you in a ‘no way’ manner. “Oh, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to make assumptions.” His soft smile had some heat rushing to your cheeks. “Well, I’ll still need you to try it on to make sure it’s to your liking. The mannequins are really sample sizes and wouldn’t do justice to a dress like this.” Smooth, he unconsciously threw a compliment at you that made you blush even harder.

Mitsuya gave you an estimated timeline and encouraged you to stop by any time to check in on the dress. He would also send periodic updates by text but apologized in advance if he sends them at an odd hour. When he gets to work on something, he loses track of time and doesn’t realize that sometimes he would be working 12 hours straight without a break. He walked you out of the atelier and he extended his hand out to you. “I’ll take good care of her. Again, please feel free to check in at any time.” You nodded and reached out to shake his hand. Calloused fingers and a gentle squeeze swallowed your small hands. “Thank you so much, I look forward to it.” Both of you remained still when your eyes met, his lavender eyes were captivating, there was something gnawing at both of you that didn’t allow for the handshake to break. That is until… 

“TAKA CHAAAAN!” A loud booming voice made you both release at the same time, you turned towards the direction of where the yell came from. “You’re too loud Hakkai…” Mitsuya says as he smiles and steals a few glances while you were distracted, though he was a little embarrassed that everyone was now staring at them. “I guess that’s my queue, it was a pleasure meeting you. See you later.” You waved and began to walk away. The man who approached Mitsuya was tall, taller than him and had a vertical scar on his lip and a goofy smile. “Who was that?” He asks, inquisitively as he watches your hips sway as you walk. “A client. So, what brings you here today? You have a day off?” Mitsuya asks as he begins to walk back inside to his atelier. 

As you made your way back home, you couldn’t stop thinking about the tailor - he was handsome and professional. You wondered if he was seeing someone or if work was his life, well a guy like that must have a girlfriend, right? Thoughts kept going back to the way he touched the fabric, you could almost feel his fingertips on your skin - No, he’s just doing his job. Don’t get carried away (y/n). You think to yourself as you try to shake the warmth growing in the pit of your stomach. Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone vibrating in your pocket. Taking it out to see an incoming call from your partner. “Hey.” The tone in your voice was dry, it wasn’t a serious relationship, not with how you were taking things - it was just really for you to try and get off. “Understood, I’ll see you tonight.” Ending the call with a sigh, you headed home to get ready for tonight. By 10:00pm you were sitting at the bar waiting for the guy to show up while downing drinks to pass the time. You were approached by a few men who were eying you nonstop, they were eying your thighs as they tried to hit on you, their intentions were clear. “No thank you. I’m waiting on someone.” You say repeatedly as they fail each and every time to get your number.

Finally, the guy showed up after 45 minutes, you were just about to call it a night as it was starting to look like he was gonna be a no show. “Sorry babe, did I make you wait long?” He asks as he leans in to place a tender kiss on your lips. He tasted like bitter alcohol and cigarettes. This asshole was at another bar. You think to yourself as he pulls away. Things were quick - you ended up at his place within the hour, face down on his mattress as he thrusted lazily into you. “You’re quiet tonight, what’s wrong? Not feeling up to it?” He asked as he noticed that you were lost in thought, you couldn’t even bring yourself to moan or pant for him. He was right, you weren’t really in the mood but still went with it anyways, the only reason why you were able to get a little aroused in the first place was because you were thinking of someone else. “I was just thinking - maybe we should call it quits.” You blurted out, not even looking at him to analyze the expression on his face. “I mean, it’s whatever - can I still call you though? It won’t make much of a difference as to how we are now.” His honesty was a little brutal. “Um, sure…” You say softly as you close your eyes and try to swallow your pride. He chuckled and began to thrust harder into you, making you fist the sheets beneath you - it was starting to hurt. It only took him about a minute before his hips started stuttering and he was letting out loud groans, signaling his release. That one minute felt like an eternity, an eternity in hell. He pulled out - taking off the condom, tying it and throwing it in the trash, then throwing himself on the other side of the bed as you tried to sit up to get dressed. You struggled a bit as there was an uncomfortable sensation on your hips and core, making it difficult to quickly get out of there.

Once you arrived home, you collapsed to the floor, clutching your lower abdomen - the pain knocked the wind out of your lungs as you tried to breathe. You shouldn’t have let him finish - the lubricant on the condom wasn’t enough. Taking a few painkillers to help alleviate some of the pain, you begin to draw a warm bath in hopes that it will soothe the pain. That and you just wanted his scent off of your body. While sitting in the warm water, your phone pings with a notification and you see it’s a text message with an attachment. It was around 2:00am, so you assumed that it was going to be your now ex partner - probably already asking to see you tomorrow night and sending you a photo of his dick. When you checked your phone, you saw that the message came from the Tailor - Mitsuya. Your heart skipped a beat, you had completely forgotten about his warning - it made you smile. Opening the attachment, you saw that he was sending you a few close ups of the areas that were being repaired. His message read:

Sorry for the late text, this part here will be worked on tomorrow, can you stop by for some measurements? I apologize for not taking them earlier today.

End Message.

Mitsuya was not expecting an immediate reply as it was late in the night but was surprised when you replied almost immediately. 

Hey, no worries. What time would you like for me to stop by?

End Message.

He felt a slight blush creep up his cheeks, you were so casual and not bothered at all at this late night message. Curiosity began to gnaw at him, what the hell could you be doing up so late at night or did he interrupt something intimate?  He replied with an ‘anytime is fine’, something else was tugging at him - he was looking forward to seeing you. 

The next morning, you got up, got ready and headed to Mitsuya’s atelier. When you arrived at the building, there was an old woman who was out in front - she was sweeping the entryway. She looks like the landlord of the building. As you were about to pull out your phone to call, she asked you if you were here to see Takashi. “Oh um, Mr. Mitsuya - yes.” She gently smiled and opened the front door for you, you thanked her and bowed. Heading up the stairs, you noticed that the door to the room was ajar. You knocked, however there was no response and there was no noise coming from the inside. “Mr. Mitsuya? It’s (y/n), are you here?” Still nothing, you pushed the door slowly open and saw that he was laying on the couch, sleeping - he looked exhausted. There were butterflies in your stomach when you saw the top buttons on his shirt undone, giving you a peek at his collarbones and neck. I'll come back later. You think to yourself and begin to walk towards the door when… 

"TAKA CHAN! I brought you breakfast!" The loud booming voice startled you and made you squeak in surprise. The man in the doorway went completely silent and had a serious expression on his face when he saw you. You could hear Mitsuya groaning behind you, “Hakkai, you’re too loud - oh, Ms. (y/n).” Turning around to face him with a red face, he smiled softly and apologized for both him and Hakkai. “I’m so sorry, the door was open and I um - I can come back at a later time if you want to get some rest.” Mitsuya was quick to wave his hands saying no. “I made you come all the way here, please - take a seat, give me 5 minutes to prep.” Hakkai was actually a lifesaver, he wouldn’t have woken up if Hakkai didn’t yell out his name. You nodded and took a seat on the couch, it was still warm and his scent lingered - you felt your core pulse and a new feeling that was burning in your chest. “Um, haven’t I seen you before? You must be the male model - Mr. Shiba, is that correct?” You asked Hakkai as he took a seat by Mitsuya’s sewing station, he was looking away and you thought he was ignoring you or that he didn’t like you. “Don’t mind him, he’s really shy around women…” Mitsuya says as he walks off to another room. Oh thank goodness, you thought you offended him or something. 

Mitsuya had asked you to step inside the other room and he closed the door behind him, leaving Hakkai to eat his breakfast alone. “Are you sure this is ok? I can come back later?” You ask as you begin to take your jacket off. You were wearing a black high waisted pencil skirt with a white button up blouse. This choice of clothing wasn’t on purpose or anything but they complimented your figure so well that Mitsuya blushed a bit. He was used to client fittings, hell even seeing women in their undergarments, but you were something different. “Are you wearing any padding?” Huh? You looked confused. “Padding? Like a fake ass?” What followed was him bursting in laughter. “No, no - I mean in your bra.” God you felt like a moron, you should have known better and you made a fool out of yourself. “Oh, n-no, I’m not.” You say almost in a whisper and look away, still feeling the embarrassment from your response. He smiled and said not to sweat it. “Ok, please take your shoes off and stand here - let your arms hang on your sides loosely…” You followed his instructions, however, your heart was beating out of your chest when he got so close. His fingers ghosted over you as he was taking the measurements, you were starting to feel warm, goosebumps now riddled your skin when he would accidentally touch your skin. “Miss? Are you ok? Would you like to sit down?” Mitsuya asked as he heard your unsteady breathing. “I’m ok - it’s just a little warm in here, that’s all.” You respond while fanning your face with your hand. He nodded and continued, when he was taking your waist measurements, you felt your slick pooling - he was so close. “Almost done, now we just need to do your bust measurements. Please extend your arms out for me in a T.” You did as instructed. The moment he closed the distance to wrap the measuring tape around your body - you softly exhaled, he could hear the shakiness in your breath. “You may relax your arms…” You put your arms down and felt him pull you close with the measuring tape. He had a soft grin on his face, the way your body was reacting to his touch - he caught it all. 

Your knees were getting weaker by the second as you looked up at him, his lavender orbs were soft and drowning you in anticipation. “...wow his eyes are beautiful…” “Thanks.” Oh shit, you said that out loud and now your face was as red as a tomato. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to stare.” You say while covering your face. Mitsuya could only chuckle and smile, “That’s ok, I appreciate the compliment. Most women just try to go straight for the kill.” He was referring to past clients who stripped almost bare for measurements, though he repeatedly told them that it wasn’t necessary. You felt bad for him, that was a rude of them to do - especially when he’s trying his hardest to be professional. “I’m sorry, I promise I won't do that.” You laugh and begin to put your shoes on. Ouch, he felt a slight sting - you really didn’t mean it like that. You meant it more as ‘I will respect your space’. “Oh, don't put them back on yet - I need for you to try on the dress for me to make sure that alterations are done accordingly.” He says as he walks out the room. You could see Hakkai still sitting by Mitsuya’s sewing machine, just scrolling through his phone. “Taka Chan, Yuzuha will be mad if we’re late.” Hearing another woman’s name shook you out of your dream state. That’s right he must have a girlfriend, so why are you feeling a little jealous?

Mitsuya brought the dress back in the room and asked you to try it on so that he can mark any additional places that need alterations. Smooth. You nodded and began to take your clothes off when he exited the room. About 2 minutes in, you poke your head out the door looking for Mitsuya. “Um, Mr. Mitsuya? I need help.” You say as you spot him on the couch with Hakkai. He stood up and walked over to you. “The zipper.” You say quietly. “Oh that’s right.” He says innocently as he walks into the room. He wasn’t prepared for what he was about to see. The dress looked gorgeous on you, his heart skipped a beat and he felt the blush creep over his face. “It looks bad on me, doesn’t it?” You say shyly, he was staring at you almost wide eyed and his mouth was slightly agape. He cleared his throat and tried to speak. “No, not at all. You look beautiful. Whoever is lucky enough to marry you will get to see you in this and he’ll be the happiest man in the world.” He was a little too honest, he thought he overstepped his boundaries when your face went bright red and you clutched the top of the dress. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” You immediately cut him off, “That’s the nicest thing any man has ever said to me.” You say while turning around, you completely forgot that your lace undergarments would be on full display.

There was a tightening sensation in his trousers, out of all the women who have stripped almost bare for him - you were the most gorgeous of them all. “I um…I’m going to place a few clips starting from the bottom end of the zipper - please let me know if it’s too tight.” Mitsuya’s voice was right behind your neck as he was pulling the fabric gently so that it wrapped around your body perfectly. Your brain short circuited when you realized that the back was completely exposed. Your body completely froze when you felt his hand graze your lower back - he could see the goosebumps on your skin, you were subconsciously reacting to his touch. When reached the top, his fingers ran down your back to check that nothing felt too tight or too loose. You let out a soft moan by accident, you immediately clasped your hands over your mouth and stood still. There was silence in the room for almost 5 whole seconds, you could only hear your heartbeat and panic started to take over. Mitsuya broke the silence by chuckling and slowly turning you around to face him. “That was a first…it was cute.” You couldn’t look at him, you were staring down at the floor, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. His hand cupped your chin, tilting it up so your eyes could meet. “I hope I didn’t offend you or overstep my boundaries.” The soft smile on his face melted your worries and made your heart throb uncontrollably. 

“No, I’m sorry. That was very unprofessional of me.” You say trying to keep your composure. The blush on your face really made Mitsuya almost close the distance. “Like I said before, all the other women go for the kill immediately. You are the most polite and most well behaved client I’ve ever had.” He was trying to make you feel a little better, it was working. He took a few steps back to analyze how the dress fit and pulled out his cellphone to take pictures of the areas that needed alterations. “Turn around for me.” The husky tone had butterflies running rampant in your stomach. He was taking pictures of the back side and marking spots that needed extra attention. “All set, you may get dressed.” You turned around and pulled his arm, stopping him before he walked out the door. “I um, can’t reach some of the clips…” You say softly, still blushing. You were lying - you were more than capable of taking them off but you wanted to feel his touch just one more time. He smiled and reached directly behind you - wrapping his arms around your waist to begin pulling the clips off. He was so close, you could feel the warmth radiating from him - his scent was intoxicating, his lavender eyes were focused on your plush lips and you almost went in for the kill. “...Thank you.” You say softly as he retracted his arms and gave you a nod. The moment he stepped out and closed the door behind him - you slowly sank into the floor. What am I doing? You think to yourself as you clutch your chest. 

After getting dressed, you exited the room and saw another person in the atelier - a woman. She was gorgeous. It made a pang echo in your chest, could she be his girlfriend? If she was, you felt completely ashamed for everything that happened behind the closed door. “Ms. (y/n), you may leave the dress on the table right over there please.” Mitsuya says with a smile on his face. You nod and place the dress on the table. The woman turned around and looked you over - her eyes were amber and you felt inferior, she was like the sun and you were just a shadow. “Congratulations! Mitsuya told me that he’s working on your wedding dress.” She said with a soft smile on her face. Even her voice was beautiful. “She’s not getting married, Yuzuha. She’s just getting it repaired for her mother.” Mitsuya corrected her with a laugh. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She responds with a laugh as well. “Oh, no worries. Thank you though.” Hakkai was still staring off into the distance until Yuzuha talked to him. The man did a 180 and was chattering away with a huge smile on his face. “Here, let me walk you out.” MItsuya said as he escorted you down the stairs. “Have a good day, bye bye.” You say as you wave to the two. Hakkai went silent again and Yuzuha waved goodbye. 

Once outside, you bowed and were about to walk away when Mitsuya gripped your arm. “She’s not my girlfriend if you’re wondering. She’s like a sister to me, actually both Hakkai and her are siblings.” He had no idea why he needed to clarify that to you. A sense of relief washed over you. You were on the verge of apologizing a thousand times to him for today. There was a light pink dusting his face. You giggled, he knew that he had given a little more away than he wanted. “Duly noted, Takashi.” He almost had a stroke when he heard you say his name. The way it rolled off your tongue with such ease and playfulness - he knew he wanted to see you some more. 

Part 1 End

Tagslist: @shinichirosupremacy @bajifairyy @litle-crow @mikariko @buns-inhiding @nekoisme @erza-uzumaki @summerdasy @astrodiamond @nalyana @mjailene15 @minniettokki @lisedanie  @reiners-milkbiddies @rinrinfoxy @bakkatakoyaki @giraffeosaur @stickysaladdonkeyhero @awkwardchick87 @shinouzen @hedaxhoseok @zamfir707

[lilly-onthevalley]

Basic outfit ideas/staples?

The Little Black Dress

I'm sure you saw this one coming 😂

It's simple, it's safe, it's classy, it could be hot or cute depending on how you style it. It even has some history behind it (click the link part).

A dress like this can also be worn over and over again without the look getting old because it's a classic staple.

A Stripped Button-Up

Oddly specific? Yes, but this is one of my favourite pieces of clothing in my wardrobe. I can wear it on weekends and once again it's a classic, it's basic, no one cares if you wear it again and again.

For some reason this shirt design in specific is common at horse racing shows. I'm not sure why but I'm here for it.

More Staples include:

A white and black well fitting turtle neck (the sleeve length is up to you)

A slightly compressing white body suit (in halter and long sleeve length, also if you're a bodysuit person get more in your most flattering colours)

A basic tan/cream/blue-black/black loafer (colour is up to you)

Black pumps

Horse riding boots that can fit for casual but stylish wear

Plain white tennis shoes

A knitted scarf (!!!!)

A ring and/or necklace (no reason in particular, I personally love little accessories with character)

Tailored slacks

Pleated skirt

A floral patterned dress (one long and one short)

Plain earrings (plain silver, copper,gold, zirconia or maybe a jewel tone)

Plain nude heels with a strap (my fellow darker skin sisters, please get nude heels which are your skin tone,they will change your life. Not the cream nude heels, I'm sure you know the ones I'm talking about 😭)

A really nice leather belt

Slightly heeled suede slippers??? Idk what you call the type of shoes but they are in the pictures below, Nicoli is wearing them

THE hat (!!)

A satin/silk wrap dress and skirt

Cashmere sweater

White denim shorts

Neutral ribbed dress

Below are some women whose style I really enjoy :)