#man bags crossbody leather

[mensmessengerbag]

The Crossbody Bag: A Fashion Essential

The crossbody bag has firmly established itself as a fashion essential, seamlessly merging style and convenience. In this article, we'll delve into the world of crossbody bags, exploring their versatility, iconic designs, and how to make them a statement piece in your wardrobe.

The Versatility of Crossbody Bags

Hands-Free Convenience - One of the standout features of a crossbody bag is its hands-free design. The adjustable strap allows you to wear it across your body, distributing the weight evenly. This feature is a game-changer, especially when you're on the move, running errands, or traveling.

Perfect for Every Occasion - Crossbody bags come in various sizes and styles, making them suitable for a wide range of occasions. From compact and minimalist designs for a casual day out to elegant and embellished options for formal events, there's a crossbody bag for every outfit and mood.

Iconic Designs

The Classic Messenger Bag - The messenger bag, with its rectangular shape and flap closure, is the quintessential crossbody bag design. Originally favored by couriers and messengers, it has evolved into a timeless fashion piece that complements both casual and professional looks.

Boho Chic with the Saddle Bag - Saddlebags are characterized by their curved shape and often feature rustic details. They are perfect for adding a touch of bohemian flair to your ensemble, making them a favorite among free spirits and fashion-forward individuals.

The Mini Crossbody - For those who prefer a minimalist approach, mini crossbody bags offer style in a compact package. These tiny yet trendy accessories are perfect for carrying just the essentials and add a playful touch to any outfit.

Styling Tips

Casual Charm - Pair your crossbody bag with a relaxed outfit, like jeans and a cozy sweater. Opt for earthy tones or vibrant colors, depending on your mood. This effortless combination exudes casual charm.

Office Elegance - Upgrade your work attire by choosing a sleek leather crossbody bag. It adds a touch of professionalism while keeping your essentials within easy reach.

Evening Glamour - Transform your look for a night out by selecting a crossbody bag with metallic accents or intricate embellishments. It's the ideal accessory for carrying your essentials while dancing the night away.

Caring for Your Crossbody Bag

Regular Maintenance - To keep your crossbody bag looking its best, practice regular maintenance. Wipe down leather bags with a damp cloth and use a leather conditioner to prevent drying and cracking. For fabric bags, spot-clean them to remove stains and maintain their pristine appearance.

Rotate Your Collection - If you're an avid crossbody bag enthusiast, consider rotating your collection. This not only extends the lifespan of your bags but also allows you to showcase a variety of styles throughout the year.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the crossbody bag is more than just an accessory; it's a fashion statement and a practical companion for your daily adventures. Its versatility, iconic designs, and styling options make it an essential piece in any wardrobe. Whether you're heading to the office, going out with friends, or embarking on a journey, the Rustic town crossbody bag is your stylish and reliable partner.

[vivitalks]

do you ever see someone and just have a feeling in your bones that this person SHOULD be wearing nail polish

[kyrianne]

[Image ID: A series of screenshots from a Twitter thread by Jason Coupet / professajay.

Text begins: Man voting in Georgia is so different than in Illinois. When I lived in chicago, during early voting, I went to the local elementary school, waited in line about ten minutes, and they gave me a sheet of paper. I checked people off then I put it in the machine and left.

Not Georgia. We drove downtown because *every* other polling place had a line >90 minutes. We paid ten bucks to park. We went in the building, then emptied out pockets to go through a metal detector. We then saw a sign about where to park to get our parking validated. Inside.

We then waited in line ~80 minutes. We got to the end and we were given a form to fill out (?). We were told *not* to sign it until told. Then we were moved into a waiting room where we were given a ticket number, like when you are at the dmv.

We were told to get our IDs out and wait. We waited here for 15-20 minutes. When your number is called they took your form, did some stuff on the computer, then told you to sign the form. Then you get a little green card. You insert it into the machine.

Then you go through three or four prompts, including a very serious™️ warning about perjury, a totally necessary warning given how huge a problem stolen identity is for the purposes of voting on behalf of someone else.

You then finally vote, and after an “are you sure” prompt you get a sheet. You then have to walk the sheet over to feed it into a machine. About half of these were working.

The bottleneck was clearly the weird application and waiting room thing. There are two dozen people at a time sitting to have their stuffed checked. Think of it as regular voting except when you got there they had to run a credit check for *each person* like you need financing.

It was easier finishing my PhD paperwork. Thankful for the kind people (nearly all black women) the shepherded the processes. But man if you are poor or disabled or whatever, good luck yo. That should have been easier. We finished tho. Text ends.

Image ID: Two Black people are standing beside a city street and smiling at the camera, a man and a woman. The man has close-cropped hair and a beard. He is wearing a black hoodie that says Southside and has a sticker on his chest with a peach on it. The woman has large tortoiseshell browline glasses and long twist locs. She has a light brown leather crossbody bag, and is wearing a salmon-colored windbreaker. She also has a peach sticker on her chest, which she is pointing to. Her hand has a wedding ring. End ID]

[sunny-milla]

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

child! shigaraki tomura x mom! reader

In an alternate universe, a kindergarten teacher meets a feeble boy looking for a home and held out a helping hand before the heroes could do so. This is a two part one-shot, so is it called two shots? Man idk.

pt.1

italics refer to Tenko’s future self

Tenko. His name echoed in his own head, a visage of his sister crumbling plays out like a broken film. A sudden itch on his neck for the fifth time in the minute, pieces of his skin stuck under his untrimmed nails. ‘Someone please help me.’ He couldn’t drag the words from the back of his throat, they came out as a pitiful croak paired with a loud sniffle. He closed his eyes, wandering aimlessly, maybe the middle of the busy road would be a good destination

One step. Two steps. Three steps. He can hear the cars, speeding past him. Digging his fingers onto his dainty palm, he’s ready, ready to die. It’ll be fine now. He can atone for his sins, everything will be fine now. One step into the black tarmac, another one, awaiting for an impact. However, a soft palm came across his arm, pulling him away from his despair. “Hey kid, are you alright? What’s your name?” In front of him was a woman, the sun shone on her face, a soft smile that melted away his gloom.

“Tenko.” His hands bloodied. “I killed them. I didn’t mean to. I swear.” Continous breaks in his words, his croaked voice a dead giveaway of his stammering composure. Not even a second later, crystalline tears formed in his eyes, waterworks spilling out like a broken fire hydrant.

She crouched down in front of him, wiping away the blood on his hand, the back of his hand on top pf her palm. He removed his hand defensively, almost by instinct, he didn’t want to hurt anyone else. “Don’t worry, I’m not easily hurt!” She raised her arm, flexing her non-existent muscle. In that very moment, Tenko was sure that this woman was the warm sunshine in the cold winter, the sunshine everyone looked forward to in the spring. Yes. He was sure of it. This woman was his hero.

She stood up and offered her hand, he wanted to hold it, he really did but he retracted his hand in fright for her safety. It must be because his quirk’s activation is through his hands. “Would you grab onto my bag then? We wouldn’t want you lost now.” A white leathered crossbody bag with golden chain and a small keychain— a cute little All Might keychain, a keepsake from an old friend. He latched onto her bag with only two of his fingers touching, he followed her, his trust on her palms.

Then, they arrived in front of a small clinic which resembled a traditional Japanese home more than anything. Tenko talked with the doctor who was a middle aged woman who gave him a lollipop after his checkup. Meanwhile, Y/n was outside on the call with cops talking about the boy she just found. He was easily traced back to the Shimura residence in which the police quickly dispatched some officers to assess the situation.

The doctor then quickly explained to her what was his quirk and its activation requirements after a few tests. She wrapped a bandage around his pinkies to prevent his quirk from activating. “Tenko let’s go shopping!” She carried him, his bottom resting on her arm. Tenko remained quiet, he didn’t know how to respond to this bright light. Shall he blink his eyes and hide from it? Or shall he admire it and accept its warmth? He had no choice but to take that captivating warmth.

Firstly, she took him to the kids clothing section. She bought him necessities, a few pair of pants, and a couple shirts, of course some onesies too! She knew that he wasn’t in the mood for dress up but took notice of which clothes seemed to cause a crease in the skin between his brows and which ones widened his eyes.

Off to the shoes section! “May I have red shoes please?” He looks at the vibrant crimson shoes, which happened to be the most expensive and popular in the section. His eyes suddenly looked towards the price tag, “Nevermind!” He quickly said, he didn’t want to be a burden or seem picky.

Y/n was quick to pick up where his eyes went and knew that he was probably worried about the price, it was a mature thing to think of but she didn’t want him to be like that. Children should act spoilt as much as they can. “What a nice eye you have Tenko! Is there anything else you want?” He shook his head. To be honest, Tenko wanted everything but he was satisfied with that. As long as this nice lady was with her, he’ll be satisfied. “These shoes aren’t great for running, let’s grab you one more pair.” Tenko’s eyes widened, he felt like a child with a mom who loved spoiling him.

“That one please.” He pointed at a white pair of running shoes which lit up when it was to be stomped. She puts on the shoe trying out if it was his size. He was too shy to say that it wasn’t his size and it seemed to deplete most of his energy when he did. “I don’t think it’s my size.” He released a deep breath after she took her attention to the saleswoman and asked for a smaller size.

“A kid also needs boots for rainy days, am I right?” She looked at Tenko and smiled. Tenko was amazed, no one has ever smiled at him consecutively, his amazement nearly brought him to his tears but he bit back his sobs and enjoyed the fleeting moment.

Y/n was carrying the shopping bags while holding Tenko’s hand. “Say Tenko, what kind of toys do you want?”

“Um…” He didn’t know. He had a lot in mind. He wanted a lot. “Please pick for me.” Y/n formed a faux disappointed pout. She picked up an All Might plushie which was a trend amongst her students, “This one?” She quickly picked up on his dismay. “How about this?” She picked up a dinosaur plushie instead in which received a delightful nod from Tenko. My mom is the kindest person in the world.

He looked at a car toy, but it wasn’t just any car toy. It was a car toy that does need batteries to move, it just needed to dragged onto the floor to create friction and stores kinetic energy. When released, the car’s kinetic energy is used up and releases thermal energy as waste and finally moves at a high speed. It was those kind of toy cars kids bragged about in the playground. “The toy car too please!” He accidentally yelped out, he didn’t mean to be so selfish, it just slipped out accidentally.

My mom kinda spoilt me and I grew out to be a little stubborn.

She picked up lots of things as well, toys for educational learning and some reading books for his bedtime stories. “Tenko should we go home now?” What an odd word for him, wasn’t his home the one he destroyed? If so, he didn’t want to go back. “My apartment’s a 30 minute drive from here, I think we have to hail a cab. Man ain’t that annoying, Tenko?” She looked down at him and watched him nod in agreement. She wanted to have a small conversation with him, to slowly distracting from his misery but it seemed that he was rather a little empty instead. Tenko chose to avoid it.

She’s also the most talkative, she also gets along well with my girlfriend and sometimes I forget that I’m her child. I bet that they’re making fun of me right now.

The drive back home was quiet, Tenko sat beside her and his head leaning on her arm, his eyes fluttering and threatening to close itself. He didn’t want to go to sleep, he’ll see them again. He didn’t want that, but with one small caress of her hand on his head, he drifted to wonderland.

When they arrived in front of her apartment, Y/n carried Tenko into the apartment first, placing him onto the couch and picked up the shopping bags. She decided to tap him lightly, after debating if she should bathe him or prepare dinner first. “Tenko, lovely, let’s go bathe you.” Tenko nodded while rubbing his eye.

She made sure the water was not too warm nor too cold, that the pressure of the water was not too strong especially because his skin was sensitive. “Close your eyes.” Tenko shut them firmly, he hated getting shampoo in his eyes, it was too painful. She massaged the shampoo on his scalp with soft touches. Although she was a teacher, she didn’t truly know how gentle she should be when it comes to bathing them.

Next, she lathered an oatmeal bar soap on his skin as recommended by the doctor. She was warned not to use anything with scented chemicals and made sure that everything was natural. After rinsing him with water, she took a fresh towel and patted his body dry before wrapping his body with it. “Thank you.” He muttered softly, he fiddled with his fingers and shied away from her gaze. She could only smile softly and ruffle his head, that must have taken all of his courage.

After dressing him up, she decided to go prepare dinner whilst Tenko played with the new toys and watch the TV. It turns out that he really liked Pingu, encapsulated by the small penguin who spoke an odd language.

Once dinner was prepared, Tenko was called into the kitchen. He had a special chair, three pillows stacked on top of each other so that he could reach the tall table. “Thank you for the food.” Y/n and Tenko said in unison however his voice was meek and barely audible. She had cooked popular dish popular amongst the population, katsu curry and served with the steaming white rice. That night, it became his favourite dish.

The night loomed over the sky, the moon casting its glow on every single house. “Good night, Tenko.” She tucked him into bed, leaving the night light on per his request. Tenko hated the dark. There were monsters in the dark.

“Will you please sing me a bedtime song?” Y/n felt tingly sensations all over her body, was this what her mother felt when she was kid?

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away

By the end of the song, his eyes were shut close, he had a firm grip around his dinosaur stuffy, she watched his chest rise up and down leaving her heart at rest. Y/n never dreamt of being a mother, the pregnancy thing threw her off, she never dealt well with pain ever since she was a kid. However, this feeling satisfaction and an overwhelming feeling of warmness surged like a tsunami.

The next day, Tenko woke up to the aromatic scent of pancakes with the strong coffee bean roast he was quite familiar with. “Good morning Tenko! Have you brushed your teeth?”

She chirped like a bird even though it was so early in the morning, she was boisterous, her arms blustered around so much I thought she’d fly away. At that moment, I realised that I wanted to stay with her.

“Yes.” A weak response.

I hated loud voices, but I looked forward to mom’s everyday. One time I came back late from the arcade because I was hanging out with Touya and Hawks and she yelled at me. I never really understood it back then but she just cared for me. I guess I was a bit of a troubled kid.

“Do you like strawberries on your pancakes Tenko?” I never liked strawberries nor pancakes, I had no interest in anything but mom gave me something to love.

Pancakes, strawberries, dinosaurs, games, picnics. She gave me more than a home, she gave me gave me a place to be a child. When she had to take me to the orphanage, it seemed to break her heart more than it did to mine. I had only known her for two weeks but it felt like she was the one who gave birth to me.

“Tenko, I’ll visit you everyday. Just wait for me, m’kay?” Tenko didn’t want her to leave he wanted to hold her sleeves but he couldn’t. He didn’t want her to turn like his family. She took off the All Might keychain off her bag, “This is my lucky charm, this is veryyy precious to me. So when I’m not here, this lil guy will watch you for me.” She couldn’t help but develop maternal feelings, it wasn’t pity, it was a desire to protect the child. She kneeled in front of him, giving him a hug, this kid needed it than anyone. “It’ll take a little while, but I’ll bring you home, Tenko. I promise.”

There were no promises she did not keep. That’s what was so admirable of her. Moms are like superheroes, aren’t they?

A month later, after the long process of paper works and what not. Y/n brought Tenko home. “Welcome home Tenko!” He wore a yellow party hat with white polka dots. There was a huge banner across the living room which read, ‘Welcome Home’. It felt like sunshine on a cold winter morning.

Tenko finally got to sit in that dining table once again, and he will continue to do so from now on. Y/n placed a piece of deboned fish on top of Tenko’s bowl, it reminded him sort of his biological mother, his mom wasn’t a bad mom— she just never protected him from dad.

They were complex feelings a 5 year old couldn’t comprehend. Even when hatred bloomed in Tenko’s heart, a part of him said to himself that the man was still his father; he craved his attention like it was water yet also detested his gaze. “Tenko, sweetheart, are you alright?” Tenko’s vision slightly warped, next thing he knew his cheeks were wet, he was being hugged by this woman while being softly patted on his back.

His tiny fists gripped on her blouse, wrinkling it slightly, he buried his face on her and wailed, “Mom!” Chanting the word over and over again like it was an incantation. Tenko didn’t know if it was right to call her mom, but he did. He didn’t know if it meant that he betrayed his biological mother but this woman felt like his mom. She felt like a warm blanket in a cold winter, a sudden shower mid-summer, a bluster of gale in the dry summer. He knew that she was mom.

“Tenko, you’re fine now. You’re home now.” Right. This is home. “Hush now, sweetheart.” She carried him in her arms swiftly and sat down on her chair. She sang his favourite song, ‘you are my sunshine’ in a sweet melodious voice lulling him to sleep. Tenko cries began to cease to hiccups, his eyes became swollen, his lashes clumped together due to his tears. His grip on her blouse began to loosen when his eyes began to close.

Y/n took him to his newly designed room, it was a shame he couldn’t see it yet. His bed frame was of a sports car, there was a basketball hoop stuck on his door, a small tent just a few feet away from his bed with stuff toys inside, boxes of legos ready to be built by him, and some toy cars. Y/n slowly put him on his bed, tucking him in under the blue sheets, brushing away the hair on his face. She kisses his forehead and was ready to leave until his tiny fist clung onto her, “Mommy, please don’t go.”

That day, Y/n swore to herself that she’d help her son get back up on his feet, to make sure that he never feels this way. How could a boy think that his mother leave him? That was too cruel. “Yes Tenko, mommy’s here.” Y/n hands found her way on Tenko’s head, her palm repeatedly caressing his head. “Oh my sweet child.” She mumbles as she watches his chest rise up and down. “The root of my life.” Y/n never felt any sort happiness like this until she had Tenko, her one-month pregnancy was sure tough but it was worth the wait.

Never in her 20 years of living had she thought that the mere sound of his breathing would the sound to bring her to sleep, it soothed her nerves like it was the smoothness of fine silk. “My son, my sweet treasure.”

The next day was Tenko’s first day of his new preschool. A different place meant different people and Tenko was feeling extra nervous that morning. “Tenko, wake up now.” Tenko felt her palm softly hitting his stomach to wake him up. His eyes blinked opened, the light hitting his eyes causing him to shut it quickly.

“Good morning, mom.” He greeted softly, slowly getting up from the bed using the heel of his palm as a support.

She replied in a cheery tone paired along with her bright smile. “Good morning, Tenko!” She ruffled his hair, finding his bed hair cute. “Let’s go take a shower now.” She stands up and waited for Tenko to follow her whilst he fought back from his back kissing the bed again.

Tenko walked into the bathroom a few moments later, he was still not ready to take a shower but he did not want to disappoint his mom.

“Is the water too cold?” She asked as soon as the water hit Tenko’s skin, he shook his head firmly and closed his eyes so that water wouldn’t go in them.

“Are you excited for school Tenko?” Tenko didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he’d have friends or if people would find him weird or gloomy. He had fears which a typical 5 year old would not have.

While she helped Tenko shower, she babbled about what to do and not do in school. She told him to be a “good boy” and that he should listen to his teachers.

When they had arrived in school, Tenko became indecisive. He didn’t want to leave his mom’s sweet abode, he was scared to meet new people. “Mom I don’t wanna go.” Tenko gripped on the straps of his backpack tightly, his nails scratching against the fabric.

She crouched in front of him, not caring about how hard it was due to her black pencil skirt. “Are you scared?” She asked which he nodded his head to. “Sweetheart, don’t worry, the kids are really nice here. If not, you can tell mommy and we’ll find you a different school.”

She took his small, soft hands and caressed it with her thumb. “Besides mommy will be there at the start and see how it goes.” Tenko nodded at her words. To others it may seem like empty words that mothers say to their children just to stop them from whining, but in reality mothers do their best just to see their kids smile.

“What if I don’t make any friends?” Tenko sulked, he hated being alone more than anything. He hated it how there was an indescribable ache in his heart when he feels such strong emotions.

“Why would anyone not befriend such a nice and cuuuuttteeee person?” She pinches his cheeks slightly causing Tenko to feel a bit shy. Tenko felt shy, it was like this as well when old grandmas complimented him in the park; he kind of liked the attention. It made him feel loved.

My mom helped me regain my confidence, she helped me ask out the love of my life and helped me make friends.

“Good morning, L/n-san.” A soft voice said from behind, she immediately recognised who that voice belonged to. She turned her head to look back, and knew it would be the snow haired woman with a delicate yet cold stare.

She stood up properly to greet her and Tenko quickly hid behind her legs. “Good morning, Todoroki-san. This is my son, Tenko.” She nudged at the boy behind her. “Could that be Touya-kun?” Y/n immediately took notice of the vibrant crimson haired boy who stood beside Rei.

“Ah yes! Touya, say hi.” Rei urges to greet Y/n and her son who introduced himself with such great confidence.

“I’m Touya! What’s your name?” Dabi is my great friend. We met as kids cause we were at the same kindergarten.

“My name is Tenko.” He slowly slid out behind his mom’s legs, and made direct eye contact with the turquoise eye coloured boy.

“Touya, I hope you take care of Tenko-kun here.” Rei said to Touya which slightly comforted Y/n worries of Tenko being a lonely child.

“Of course! A hero takes care of civilians!” Touya exclaimed in pride which made the two mothers giggle.

“Hey! A hero doesn’t need to take care of another hero!” Tenko argued, his voice slightly getting louder at the end causing Rei and Y/n to laugh a little more.

“You wanna be a hero too?” Touya questioned with great eagerness and enthusiasm. He was pretty loud and boastful as a kid. He hasn’t changed at all.

“Yes! Do you?” Tenko’s eyes twinkled at the new, profound friendship he knew was about to bloom.

Touya clenches his fists and nods his head with passion. “You bet I do!” The two mothers smiled at the sight, a feeling of warmth sinking in their hearts.

My mom was the reason I wanted to become a hero. When no one reached out their hand for me and when I had given up, she took my hand and forced me out of the darkness.

A message for my mom? Oh uhm. Mom thank you for everything, thank you for being my mom.

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 1/12)

yes i have eighty different rockstar!eddie's now, pls don't look at me, i rewatched almost famous and had a moment, k bye, enjoy!

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you're a writer for rolling stone magazine and eddie hates the media so... he hates you

contains: enemies to lover trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, and eddie being an asshole <3

word count: 4.5k

| next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

You love your job more than anything.

You love that it allows you to travel, that it’s centered around music, and that you get to meet people and make friends and do extravagant things you would’ve never imagined you’d be doing. You love your job.

“I love my job.” It’s starting to taste like a lie when it reaches your tongue.

You mutter it to yourself again, looking around the bright hallway and searching for any fucking door with the words ‘CORRODED COFFIN’ written on it.

You glance at the watch on your wrist, teeth digging into the soft skin of your cheek as you keep walking down the corridor. 

You feel as if you’ve been walking down this hall for years, miles of white stone wall and shiny gray cement floors, equipment littered here and there with staff walking through doors and yelling commands.

You follow the echo of chatter and soft giggles, the sound getting closer and closer until a group of girls meets you. A red-headed girl lazily chews gum and stands against the wall, glaring at you from behind her blood-red shades. You take the chance to ask them your pressing question, “Do you know where I could find the dressing room for Corroded Coffin?” You ask.

The girls glare at you and giggle, eyeing you and, without a doubt judging your lack of fishnets and leather clothing. Brown leather boots, flared jeans, and a white long sleeve— you don’t belong here. “You a reporter or something?” 

You look at the redheaded girl, pursing your lips and taking a steady breath, reaching up to grasp the strap of your crossbody bag. “I’m a writer for Rolling Stone Magazine,” you explain, ignoring the snickering girls on the side. You clench the leather band of your bag in your palm, “I’m doing a piece on the band.”

The girl silently studies you; a ghost of a smile passes her lips, “Rolling Stone Magazine?”

You shift on your feet, eyebrows furrowing, “Yeah um… they’re big on music and—“ “I know what Rolling Stone Magazine is.”

You love your job.

You steadily breathe, clenching your bag once again. Your feet ache in these boots, and your jeans are teetering on the cusp of too tight after you ate a quick dinner— you want to go home. “The boys won’t speak with Rolling Stone.”

It falls silent between the two of you, and you glance at the other three girls, huddled together and passing a joint. “They don’t like watered-down shitty tabloids like yours. They won’t want to see you.” The redhead explains, silently reaching over to accept her turn with the joint.

You watch as she brings the burning paper to her lips, taking a long drag and smirking at you. She expects you to take her word and leave, but you’ve dealt with enough people like her to know she’s bullshitting you.

“Could you please point me toward their dressing room?” You ask, reconstructing your previous question because you now understand that, without a doubt, these women know where the dressing room is.

She laughs and points across the hall, some feet from where you’re all standing. You can see the first few letters of the band's name from your angle, and you internally rejoice. You thank her and walk over to the door, mentally reviewing your introduction a few times before laying a few knocks on the heavy black door.

There’s no response for a moment, and you try not to let the snickering sound of the girls tick you off. You lift your hand to knock again, but the door swings open before you can do it. A tall, muscular man glares down at you, dressed in black with a scowl. He must be security.

“Hi, I’m a writer for—“ “Groupies aren’t coming in yet; wait out in the back.” 

Your face twists in offense, glaring at the man as you, yet again, clench your fist in annoyance, “I’m not a fucking group—“ The door slams shut before you can finish your sentence. 

“Fuckin’ asshole.” You mutter to yourself. 

You love your job.

The girls snicker behind you, and you feel your face heat in embarrassment and annoyance. Why is nearly everybody in this industry just a bunch of assholes? You figure you’ll just have to wait for the band members to come out, leaning back to press your back against the wall and patiently wait.

From outside, you can hear the chaotic noise of yelling and loud banter from inside the room— the clatter of furniture breaking and thuds against the wall. You remember when behavior like this used to shock you, but artists seem to have reckless behavior nowadays.

The group of girls chatter amongst themselves, and you busy yourself with following the cracks in the floor. You stand there with aching feet and a mental ticking clock for what feels like hours, and you almost give up until the door flies open and three boys stumble out, reeking of alcohol and weed and musk. 

You watch as they all brush past you, ignoring you for the group of girls standing across the hallway, cheering their names and draping their arms across their shoulders. 

“And who might you be?”

You turn around at the gravelly voice, locking eyes with a glazed pool of brown. The last of the group, the fourth member— and, by what you can piece together given the notorious long dark brown locks dusting his shoulders, Eddie Munson. You clear your throat, stepping forward and telling him your name. You extend a hand for him to shake and ignore how his gaze rolls over every inch of your body.

“I’m a writer for Rolling Stone Magazine,” you explain, retracting your hand when he only glances at the kind gesture. He stands before you, an uninterested smirk dancing against his lips. He’s dressed in black jeans and black leather boots that look worn to hell despite his bottomless pit of a wallet. A black sheer button-down top, fully open to expose his sweat-glistened chest, shiny chains hanging from his neck and kissing his collarbones. His ringed fingers are wrapped around the neck of a half-empty bottle of whiskey, tiny sticky streams of spilled alcohol coating the bottle.

“I’m here to interview your band.” You add. 

He laughs, spit-slick lips forming a mocking smile as he speaks, “My band?” 

You blink, “Yes, you’re all a band, right?” You motion to the boys, still chatting with the girls across from where you stand, ignoring the sight of one of the members groping a girl as she giggles. “Heavy metal band, Corroded Coffin?”

Eddie snickers, “Yeah, toots, we’re a band,” he lifts the bottle to his lips, speaking over the rim, “But this isn’t my band.” He tips the drink back and gulps down the bitter drink.

You watch as he takes it down without a single twitch of displeasure. You take a deep breath, shifting on your feet as you ignore his smart response, “Okay, well, it won’t be long,” you try to reason, reaching for your bag to dig out your notepad.

“Just a few questions; I won’t take much of your time—” Eddie cuts you off with a wave of his hand, “Listen, princess,” he presses his hand against the wall beside you, using the hand wrapped around the whiskey to gesture as he speaks. “While I’d love to sit and chitchat like a couple of teenage girls, we’ve got two issues here, sweetheart.”

“One,” he raises his index finger, “We don’t do interviews before shows.” He explains as if it’s common knowledge. He lifts another finger, “And two,” he steps closer, a sickening grin spreading across his lips when you step back. “We want nothing to do with your shitty dick-sucking career-crushing poor excuse of a magazine.”

You stare at him, a million different responses churning in your head, and you so badly want to read him to filth, but you really fucking love your job.

“Mr. Munson, I promise you—” “Where are you from?”

What is it with these assholes and cutting you off mid-sentence? 

You swallow your pride and answer, “Michigan.” Eddie hums, nodding his head, clicking his teeth as if tasting the state on his tongue. “I’ll tell you this, Michigan,” he bumps the bottle against your shoulder, and you grimace at the drop of liquor that seeps into your shirt. “We’re not doing your shitty piece of a story, but we’ll graciously give you a nice view of the show from the side stage.” He grins, patting your shoulder once and winking.

A staff member passes by you, alerting the band that they have less than a minute to be on stage. You open your mouth to object to his offer, but the boy is downing the rest of the bottle and shoving the bottle into your chest, “Enjoy the show, Michigan.” 

You watch in disbelief as he walks off with his band members, the other members not even glancing your way as they holler and cheer down the corridor of the venue. For the 80th time tonight, you clutch the band of your bag and curse to yourself.

Fuckin’ dipshit rockstars.

Against your better judgment, you, again, swallow your pride and watch the show from the side of the stage. You decline any drinks offers, wanting to stay as sober as possible for the interview after the show (if you can weasel one out of them). 

Corroded Coffin knows how to put on a show. Each band member works the crowd in ways you have rarely witnessed in this industry— it’s not difficult to see their appeal to the younger generation of music listeners.

None of the members outshine the other; they are all equally in the spotlight, playing their part to create a well-oiled machine of an act. Granted, most of the show is concerningly chaotic; Gareth kicked his foot into his drum set near the end, Jeff smashed the fret of his guitar over the side of an amp, Eddie made out with a fan and Gareth, and the other member you can’t seem to name for the life of you sprayed the front row with multiple bottles of liquor.

It’s chaotic, an endless list of violations without a doubt, but the fans eat it out of the palm of their hands.

You don’t even bother trying to get their attention when they run off the stage, quietly watching from afar as they’re cheered on by VIP fans, managers, and staff. Security rushes them to the green room, where a line of fans waits with various pieces of merchandise to be signed.

You follow, silently taking in the busy scene, saying nothing when you catch a few members stealthily swiping tiny bags of party favors from fans. It’s a movie of never-ending noise and movement, and you’re wondering how they put up with this every night.

You glance at your watch and grunt in annoyance, half past midnight, well past the time you’d hoped to be back in your hotel room.

You stand aside and watch the room as the squealing fans go to each boy, getting autographs and Polaroids to commemorate the moment. Gareth is a flirt, shakes every girl's hand and only lingers for the ones he fancies, gazes into their eyes like they’re the only girl in the room, and smirks when they giggle and lean into his touch. Tells them they’re pretty, compliments their dresses and tops, and gazes at their chest for too long until staff breaks the moment and tells the girls to ‘keep the line moving, ladies’. 

Jeff is almost the same, except he’s less performative with it. He’s got a hint of a gentleman in him, thanks each fan for coming, and asks how they liked the show with a sneaky glint in his eyes and a sly smirk. Winks at one of the girls and leans in to whisper something in her ear, something you can’t read from his lips, but later on, you will see them step onto the tour bus together, snickering like sneaky teenagers.

The bass player, the one whose name always slips your mind, has gone off somewhere with a groupie; you watched them slip away from the madness the second he stepped off stage. 

And Eddie— Eddie can’t stop glaring at you. Can’t stop looking at you and making you squirm because he wants you gone. He’s got an arm draped around a girl's shoulder, neck craned down to hear what she whispers, and through the chaos of the room and the pretty girl practically pawing at his chest and giggling in his ear, Eddie still manages to find the time to look at you. Curly bangs wet with sweat sticking to his forehead, cheeks rosy and flushed with adrenaline, wide eyes diminished beneath smudged black eyeliner. He looks like an animal, damp and matted, searing gaze dripping with malice. 

You almost take the bait and cower.

A hand is placed on your shoulder, breaking your silent staring contest with Eddie as a man steps into your view. He is taller than you, older with lines of age sinking into his skin, glaring down at you over the end of his cigarette as he speaks, “Rolling Stone Magazine?”

You wonder how he was able to pick you out, but your itchy jeans and suffocating boots quickly remind you that you don’t exactly fit into the crowd. You nod, sticking a hand out and telling him your name. “You must be Richie, the manager?” You assume, kindly smiling when he takes your hand with a friendly grip in greeting.

“I’m here to interview your boys. We called this morning,” you remind him. He nods, puffs out a cloud of smoke from the side of his mouth as he speaks, “Yeah, uh… The thing with that is,” he tilts his head to scratch at the stubble on his chin, “I’m not so sure the boys’ll be up for that.” 

You breathily laugh, glancing at the boys behind him, ignoring when Eddie glances your way, “Yeah, I gathered that already.”

The man hums, reaching up to pluck the burning paper from his lip, blowing the smoke away from your face before speaking, “Yeah, Eddie’s not too keen on big media. Bad run-in from the past.” He explains. You nod understandingly, “The Face?”

The man nods, taking another hit, “Tore ‘em to shreds.” You nod, crossing your arms over your chest with a breath, “I remember.” He offers you a hit, and you shake your head, kindly waving him off.

“Shitty, you came all this way, though. Where you from?”

You don’t look at him as you respond, too focused on the man across the room, his attention locked in on the fans now that he sees you’re being taken care of— like an unwanted intruder being exterminated. But you’re not an intruder. You’re a journalist, a writer, a listener— and you’re damn good at it. 

Before you can thoroughly think about the repercussions, your mouth is running, gaze still locked on Eddie, “I can get them on the cover.”

Richie pauses his rambling at that, pauses the lift of his cigarette to his lips, and looks at you, waiting for you to say it was a joke or something— but it’s not. Your gaze flitters to him, your expression unwavering as you wait for him to respond. “The cover?”

You nod once, watching as he takes one long drag of his cigarette. “We can do one big interview with them all,” you begin, “I’ll tag along for a few shows to gather more on the experience, get a photoshoot booked and have them on the cover for the July issue.” You’re pulling strings, tugging at what sounds enticing and will get you where you need to be. You’re good at your job, you’ve done this before, and you know how to bend things to your will because the rockstars— the rockstars are always easy to break.

Richie glances over his shoulder and grunts, rubbing a hand over his face before turning back to you, “Okay, um,” he sighs and curses under his breath, “Let me see if I can talk them into it, yeah?” He sticks the cigarette between his lips and starts searching his pockets. “We’ve got a residency tour in New York next,” he announces, finally fishing out his wallet and sifting through cards until he finds what he needs. He offers the card to you, “Think you can meet us there?”

You take the card and glance over it before glancing at the boy once again. You nod, and he smiles, “Give me a call when you land; I’ll let you know if it’s a go.”

He leaves without another word, and you stay standing for a bit, rubbing the card between your fingers as you watch the boys meet the last of their fans tonight, Eddie no longer looks your way, and you hope he does for just a split second so he can know— so he can realize that he lost.

You give up when he seems too preoccupied with the girls, stuffing the card in your purse and making your way toward the exit. You’ll have to settle for rubbing it in when you see them in New York.

You spent the better part of your week convincing Anna, your manager, to give you the benefit of the doubt and allow you to pull through with a cover story. Anna wasn’t so excited when you told her you offered them a cover, but Anna is never excited by your ideas; she’s always worried until the final product comes out like a fine piece of gold. Treasure. You create treasure, and Anna knows this, so she finally relents and lets you go through with it— “You better get me the biggest story ever made. Bigger than Madonna.”

You can do bigger than Madonna— and seeing as your subject is four young men at the peak of worldwide fame, ‘bigger than Madonna’ will be a piece of cake.

You grab the hotel phone the second you get in, dialing the number on the creased business card you’d fished out from your bag. Your knee bounces in anticipation, teeth digging into your lip as you listen to each agonizing ring, almost thinking Richie gave you a fake card before finally, the phone picks up, “Hello?” It’s groggy, like he’d just woke up.

“Hi, it’s Rolling Stone Magazine,”

He groans on the other end, and you can hear the rustling of sheets, and you assume he’s sitting up in bed, “Rolling Stone Magazine… Oh— oh, uh… are you here?” He asks. You nod before answering with a short yes. 

“Are we on for today?” You ask. He’s silent for a few moments, nothing but sleepy, distant grunts filtering through the speaker. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, we’re on just uh,” you pick at the seam of your jeans as you wait for him to finish his thought, “Come to the garden at around three; they’ve got rehearsals, and you can try to squeeze in after.”

You thank him and end the call, placing the phone back on the stand and sighing as you glance around the room. This will be your home for the next month; Anna advised you to stay for the entire residency tour despite your reassurance that you can complete the story in a week— “A big story, birdie. A massive one. A good one. That doesn’t happen in a week.”

So, one month. Twelve shows and thirty days. One month.

Eddie doesn’t like rehearsals. 

He thinks they’re stupid and useless and take up too much time of the day when he could spend it doing something else. Could be writing, could be out having fun with the boys and getting high as a kite, could be fucking that redheaded groupie, Lany. He could be doing so many things, but instead, he’s up on stage in an empty arena listening for feedback in the mic and testing the amps for the guitars. 

“Let’s do that last track one more time; I think I’m picking up a bit of feedback on you, Gareth.”

Eddie sits down on the edge of the drum riser, sticking a cigarette between his lips and lighting it up. He tilts his head back and blows up toward the beaming lights, squinting at the bright rays and imagining them enveloping him. He closes his eyes and imagines it’s the sun, thinking about Hawkins and the last summers he spent with the gang. Thinks about Dustin and Lucas and Max and Mike. Steve, Nance, and Robin. Thinks about how he hasn’t called or visited in a while, even though he got their card on his birthday.

He feels shitty for not calling home; he itches to make the call now and let them know that he misses them and wishes they could fly out more often to watch the band play. They’re all busy, though; the kids are about to start college— dusted the shit out of high school, which Eddie obviously flew in to watch them walk the stage— and the older half of them are all getting jobs, looking for their next big step in life, and Eddie misses them.

His reminiscent thoughts are cut through with the sharp and loud slamming of the arena door, grasping his attention in seconds. He blinks a few times to get the light out of his eyes, squinting at where the noise came from— and Eddie’s mind is fresh off a joint, so he’s not a hundred percent sure if he’s just envisioning that journalist from the other day or she’s actually here.

He stands up from the drum riser, stepping further into the stage as he watches you walk down the rows of seats; barely acknowledges the stage manager when he asks him to play the riff from track four until Jeff walks into his line of sight, “Come on, man, I wanna get this over with.”

Eddie situates his fingers over the frets of his guitar, watching as you find a seat in the third row and settle in, settling your bag in your lap and holding it to you as you silently watch the crew work the stage. He plays the riff a few times, until they can fix that god-awful ringing noise behind the higher notes, and when they finally wrap up rehearsals, Eddie makes a beeline to the front row where Richie is standing, quietly chatting with a staff member about where he wants the road cases to go. Eddie doesn’t care much for their conversation, steps in, and promptly interrupts, “Why the fuck is that journalist here?”

Richard turns to him and raises his eyebrows, “Sir?”

The staff member leaves as Eddie leans in and points over Richard's shoulder to where you sit, still quietly watching the stage, bright lights illuminating your face like you’re some god-sent fucking angel— and you’re not. Eddie knows you’re not. He sees straight through your friendly act. “The journalist, Richie. Why is she here?” He slowly repeats.

Richie glances at you and looks back at Eddie, “She’s doing a story on the band—” “No, she’s fucking not.”

Richie stares at Eddie, blinks for a silent moment before speaking, “Son,” —and sometimes Richie reminds Eddie of Wayne, and it scares him, “She’s gonna put you on the cover of Rolling Stone Magazine.” Richie points your way. Eddie falters momentarily, mindlessly blinking and shaking his head, “Cover?”

Richie laughs and pats Eddie on the shoulder, “Yeah. The fucking cover,” he says, “so, whether you like it or not, you’re doing the interview. This is what the band needs.”

Eddie shakes his head, curly strands brushing the muscles of his shoulders, “We don’t need a goddamn cover, Richie. We’re not doing a fucking story—” “Yes, you are.” Richie doesn’t mean to make his voice boom through the arena, but it attracts attention either way, and he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose before clapping a hand onto the back of Eddie’s shoulder, turning both away from the stage.

“You’re putting out an album in a few months. You want it to sell, don’t you?”

Eddie clenches his jaw, teeth grinding against each other as he glances over his shoulder, annoyed when he catches you watching— almost smirks when you quickly look away as if you’d been caught red-handed. Despite Eddie’s strong will, he nods because fucking obviously he wants the album to sell— but at what cost?

Richie nods and squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, “Good. Then you’ll do the interview. She’ll be with us for all of New York, so play nice. We need a good piece.” and leaves Eddie with a pat on his shoulder. 

Eddie stands there for a moment, gathering himself and trying to cope with the fact that some fucking narc will be on their back for the next month. He doesn’t see or hear you walk up to him until you say his name. The barricade separates you, your fingers gripping the black railing as you stand before him. Eddie’s hands are on his hips, not moving an inch as he looks at you.

“I know you don’t want me here, but I… I’m just doing my job, and if you can cooperate, this will be easier for the both of us.”

And Eddie— god, Eddie can’t fucking believe the audacity.

“Did you fuck Richie?”

He watches you pull back, blinking at him as you stare silently. Eddie tilts his head, eyebrows raising to push the answer from you, “No, I didn’t—” You shake your head and blink hard in confusion, “Why would I—” “Because you want a good story.” Eddie snaps, “Right?”

Because that’s all anybody ever wants from him. A good story. A tale to tell their friends about. Tell them the secrets they pulled from Eddie Munson, tell them about the famous rockstar that fucked them backstage, tell them they know what makes him crack. A good story.

You gape at him, lost and shocked by the sudden confrontation. 

You straighten up and tilt your head, eyes growing harsh with anger as you respond, “No. I didn’t fuck Richie. I don’t fuck to get where I want, I pull strings, and I make it work,” you snap, “I treat people with the respect they deserve, and I get what I want. You could learn a few things from that.”

And with that, you’re gone. Leaving Eddie behind with a twisted face of annoyance. He watches you walk over to where Richie is and greet him, but he doesn’t stick around long enough to watch or tune in to the conversation, storming through the arena and grabbing his coat to get in the car and tell the driver to take him to his hotel.

One month. Twelve shows and thirty days. One month.

Eddie can play along, he thinks. How hard can it be?

————

part two

[outro-jo]

study buddies

pairing: lee felix x (gn) reader

type: imagine

warnings: non-idol au, college au, mutual pining, idk

notes: these pics just gave campus crush vibes and i said something that my friend and i ran with so here we are. i may or may not have a part two if those goes well

not taking requests at this time

masterlist | info

————————————

your morning started in a panic, waking in almost the same position you were in the night before. head tucked into your arms on your desk with your now dead laptop and notes scattered under you. slowly you open your eyes and reach around the table top for your phone.

7:45

with a gasp you shot up from your desk, neck aching in protest but you ignored that for now and rushed to put on some clothes for class. once dressed, you packed up your bag and threw it over you shoulder, rushing out the door.

across campus, felix was having a wonderful morning. he was up early enough to make it to the gym with changbin, seungmin made eggs for everyone in the apartment once he was back, he took some time to look over his notes for the day, and he even had a little time to stop at his favorite coffee cart on the way to class. as he walked across the quad at a leisurely pace, he enjoyed the sunshine, the cool morning breeze, and the bird song.

a stark contrast to your chaos coming from the opposite direction, still trying to pull on a shoe and catch the loose leaf papers falling from your bag.

felix took a seat in his usual spot for his morning class, removing the leather crossbody back from his shoulder and remove the contents from the bag. methodically he took his time to pull out his laptop, a notebook with accompanying textbooks, and lay out his favorite pens in a neat row. he smiled, satisfied with his work.

the professor walked in from the back corner of the room like he did every week and walked over to his podium without a glance to the other student. mornings were not his favorite and that was apparent by the dark circles under his eyes and the right grip on his coffee cup, like it was solely responsible for sustaining his life at that moment. he took some long sips and went over his notes for the day and made sure all the equipment was set up.

felix took the opportunity to scan the room as students filtered in, checking the doors for one person in particular. the loud sound of the professor clearing his throat echoed throughout the large hall as if to signal he was ready to start class.

8:03

a little later that normal but he’d have to figure out some way to forgive himself for that when the coffee kicked in. the role call began and felix’s attention shifted from the names being called in the front and the doors in the back.

“they’re never this late.” he mumbled to himself and checked his watch for the umpteenth time to find it hadn’t changed from the last time he looked.

lost in thought and worry, he almost missed his own name being called. “LEE FELIX!” the professor yelled in a less than enthusiastic tone.

“oh! here!” the young man half raised his hand, offering the older an apologetic look.

he rolled his eyes lazily and continued down the list of names. when yours was called, felix could nearly feel his heart beating out of his chest. maybe that extra shot of espresso wasn’t such a good idea.

suddenly a whirlwind came and took a seat next to him. “HERE!” you frantically yelled and raised your hand high.

“hmph.” the professor acknowledged you, not caring enough to mark you tardy.

“there you are! i was starting to worry.” felix let out a breathy chuckle of relief as you set up your work space for the next hour.

“yeah, i feel asleep studying last night and didn’t set my alarm.” you panted out between gasps of breath.

felix smiled warmly, “well, it’s a good thing i got this.” he slid over a plastic cup of iced coffee now dripping with condensation.

“ah, you’re an angel! i swear i could kiss you.” the words of gratitude flew out of your mouth without little thought and you took a sip.

felix smirked and leaned into you to speak in a hushed tone as the class started.

“i just might take you up on that.”

the combination of coffee mixed with the sudden intake of air was too much on your poor windpipe you began coughing embarrassingly loud. felix’s eyes went wide and he started patting and rubbing your back to help clear your airway like he wasn’t the one that caused the commotion in the first place. at the bottom of the stairs, your professor looked up to see what the noise was and once again rolled his eyes before continuing the lecture.

it might have been a joke what felix said but you couldn’t be too sure, hence the reaction. ever since freshman year, you’d found yourself in a class with the blonde haired, now blue, aussie each semester despite not having the same major. after being forced to work a project together in your second semester, you found that the two of you had a lot in common and became fast friends and seat mates in every class since. though you shared a lot of similarities, you were both vastly different. felix was neat, organized, and exceptionally punctual while you were a wild force of nature barely making it anything on time. he secretly loved that about you among other things as he’s gotten to know you.

sitting next to each other a few times a week, every week for the last two years along with late night study sessions, group projects, and the occasional fun night out, gave felix a lot of time to get to know you. he grew fond of how despite the best intentions, you could never show up on time. he loved that you always arrived in a loud mess, garnering the attention of nearly everyone in the room. he loved that you could only drink iced coffee, never hot, even on the coldest winter days—an order he committed to memory the second day of your fateful project that second semester. he loved the way you laughed after a few drinks on a night out. it wasn’t the usual quiet laugh you gave when he made a joke about the class material or the professor in the hushed environment of the library. it wasn’t an “lol” text he received when he sent you a meme throughout the day. it was loud and vibrant and beautifully carefree thanks to a few shots.

as class droned on in front of him, and your eyes focused on the lesson and writing on the board, he was lost in you. your cute features, the color of your eyes, your steady breathing.

you were blithely unaware of the absolute fawning happening next to you. the comment from before had caught you completely off guard but you pushed it aside and listened to your professor, furiously taking notes. this honestly wasn’t the first comment felix had made like but every time he said something like that you brushed it aside. there was no way someone like felix could ever like someone like you.

you were a mess, chaotic, and not nearly as hot as he was, though you knew he didn’t care about stuff like that. still you couldn’t help but let your insecurities get the best of you, especially when it came to him. but you weren’t immune to his charms. his cute wide smile, the freckles that dotted his cheeks, the way he always took care of you. since that first project together, felix has always brought your coffee order, or a granola bar or snack(knowing your poor eating habits), or even sometimes a flower he thought was pretty. you can remember having to call home one night after a party when someone put something weird in your drink. he sat by you the whole night to make sure you were ok. felix was definitely an ideal man, but he certainly wouldn’t be into you, you often thought.

class came to an end and you, felix, and the other students stood to pack up your bags and leave. felix had a sudden burst of courage, feeling like he had to do it now otherwise he might never ask.

“hey, um…”

you glanced up at him with your eyes wide in curiosity. the nerve was starting to fade but he shook his shoulders to try again.”

“so, i was-um-wondering…”

your hair tossed over to one side of your head, making him lose his train of thought again.

“get it together!” he thought to himself.

you giggled lightly, seeing he was zoning out as he often did. “you wanna study tonight, right?”

his shoulders slumped. you perceived it as relief, understanding what he was trying to get out… when it was actually defeat of his body betraying his own mind but nevertheless he played it off with his signature sunshine smile.

“ah, yeah. sorry, i’m a bit in my head today. i didn’t really catch the notes.”

you shrugged, “‘s ok! you’ve had my back plenty before. it’s the least i could do.” you finished packed up and threw you bag over your shoulder. “so, i’ll come by tonight? 6? i’ll bring pizza, ok?”

a few second went by before felix finally blinked and his smile widened.

“oh, yeah. sounds good.”

“ok! i’ll text you!” you waved and walked towards the exit.

felix stood frozen in his spot as you breezed out the door, feeling the full weight of his disappointment weighed on his shoulders.

“i guess i’ll try again later.”

part 2

[qwimchii]

If you do- how do you imagine the reader in smashing pumpkin? Like how do they look like to you? If that makes sense 😭

trigger warning - mentions of sexual assault and androphobia

omg so i typed this whole FLIPPING THING AND TUMBLR WAS SFUPID AND DELETED IT ALL AAHHHHHH but it’s okay i can type it again <3

reader is ofc always a self insert (not myself but just in general for most readers lmfao) but beyond appearances i think that reader would be more “tomboyish” (in personality/nature and physical self portrayal) bc of her experiences with sexual trauma and androphobia which can really detach oneself from feminity. of course, that is not the case for all female survivors of sexual assault. coping with something as traumatizing as that can manifest in many forms.

like idk why but reader wears leather jackets—a black vintage worn leather jacket and she drives a beat up toyota sedan.

natural hair, natural makeup or no makeup, and yeah. maybe a bit androgynous looking too, i feel like simon would be into that LMFAO (i honestly feel like he’s into anything tho he definitely gives me pan vibes)

oh and even tho reader may be “tomboyish” i def imagine her to wear a lot of shortish dresses. i always imagine her in a little white dress with blue flowers and a white cardigan and ballet flats with a little crossbody bag. IDK WHY I JUST DO and also she’ll often wear a dress with a leather jacket and yeah. it’s lowkey giving 2014 twee but likeee i feel like reader doesn’t have much time to care about fashion 😭

she runs the auto repair shop that she inherited with her brothers, so she’s always a little too tired, too overworked, and greasy from the repair shop. chugging down a cup of coffee before a group meeting, she’ll be in such a rush that she won’t even notice the swab of grease on her cheek which she turns up at the meeting. simon does though and he thinks it’s adorable.

he’ll point it out and reader will get soooo embarassed like “omg i hate this man he’s so annoying i cant stand him—“

after she wipes it away, simon’ll say she didn’t get it all off (he’s lying) and brush his fingers over her cheek just to see the way she blushes so prettily and puffs up in anger <3

lmfao they’re a sorry excuse for enemies.

anyways i hope that helps anon >< !! 💞 thank you for asking :))

if you’re comfortable with it, i’d love to see what you guys think reader looks like in the comments. or messaging me directly works too!! 😮

[darlingian]

🌿w e e k l y 🍄 t a g 🕯️ w e d n e s d a y🌙

hello forest dwellers, star gazers, and dream weavers. let's reveal a little bit of ourselves to each other and experience the joy of being known. (Or keep your secrets, Gandalf, idc.)

which character from any media would you like to have as a father?: Bob Belcher. Omg that man. ��

if money, laws, time, and effort were no object, what animal would you want to have?: a skunk. like obviously I'd have a lot of money to figure out the smell issue. But have you SEEN THE BABIES?! 😭 (everyone google a baby skunk rn. you won't be disappointed.)

what is your Chinese takeout order?: I like ginger beef, honey garlic veal, all the dim sum, and mango pudding.

what's your favourite emoji?: ✨this one. I held myself back from adding it to the title but couldn't resist adding it somewhere apparently lol

would you rather have a library, greenhouse, or home theater in your house?: a library. Hands down. The library from "A Marvelous Light" specifically would be lovely

what childhood tv show do you think of the most fondly?: Arthur. Oh my gosh I am still so in love with that show.

what was your tumblr like when you first joined?: I joined in June 2010 according to my archive. It was a much different place. Lol my blog was just a bit of everything. But leaning more on the aesthetic side because I was in highschool and wanted people to think I was cool.

what clothing style do you love but don't feel compelled to replicate yourself?: Fairy-kei and goth lolita! So unique and beautiful.

if you were plopped into a fictional world, which one would you know the layout of the best?: I think I'd know my way around Stars Hollow pretty well.

what is your favourite piece of art?: Ophelia by John Edward Millais

do you have a water bottle? what does it look like?: I have a venti white pearlescent Starbucks cup. I need a new one though. Those owala ones are tempting!

what fanfic trope is a quiet fave?: I don't shout about it, but sometimes a slow burn is sooooo good. The yearningggg

do you carry a daily bag? what does it look like? what's the weirdest thing in it?: my current bag is a leather crossbody satchel purse. I thrifted it and I love it. I have a hospital bracelet and a packet of Mrs dash from the psych unit in there. Lolol

If you had to ship Mickey with another Gallagher, who would it be?: Oh lordy. Carl. Lol I think Carl has similar dufus energy to Ian and Mickey clearly likes that. Ahaha 🫣

what is a fanfic trope you didn't expect to like and then very much did?: AUs. I was so determined that all I wanted to read was canon compliant, post-canon, and filler.

Do you think s11 Mickey can still carry s11 Ian?: Yes. And I think he tests it all the time. 😂 (Maybe that's part of the reason he wanted to get swole. Ian has bulked up and it is getting harder. Lol)

who got custody of the killing bat when they sold the house?: I think Lip just assumed he could have it. And Debbie stole it at the soonest opportunity. "Because I'm a vulnerable, single mom, Lip!"

Thanks for playing! I'm gonna tag all these fine folks: @deedala @michellemisfit @suchagallabitch @jrooc @mybrainismelted @gallawitchxx @gardenerian @heymrspatel @thepupperino @mickeysgaymom @milkmaidovich @creepkinginc @too-schoolforcool @tellmegoodbye @metalheadmickey @heymacy @iansw0rld @callivich @energievie

[bebemoon]

sheriff’s a b*tch .

comme des garçons faux fur shawl cropped wool jacket, c. a/w 1989

jean paul gaultier vintage sheriff badge star dangle earrings in silver tone

vivienne westwood “faustine” white pearl and crystal bone choker necklace

prada black nylon tights

coperni wool-blend wrap mini skirt in gray

miu miu embroidered lace camisole in black

miu miu satin briefs

coperni bridge crystal-embellished cowboy boots in black and silver

alexander mcqueen black leather and silver chain charm belt

maison margiela tabi sole coin clasp crossbody bag in neutral

byredo “rose of no man’s land” eau de parfum

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

Jack Kemonohito

"Lazy is such an ugly word. I prefer to call it selective participation."

Name: Jackson Takahiro Kemonohito

Nicknames: Jack (by everyone), Babe, Baby, Firecracker, Beau, Partner-in-crime (all by Roxy). Brat (by Cece), Bro-bro (by his sisters), Baby brother (by his siblings), Fuckboy.

Age: 18

Birthday: May 24

Height: 178 cm

Appearance: Jack has short wavy caramel brown hair with bangs covering his forehead, cherry red eyes and pale skin. He has a tattoo of Roxy's name in a heart on his arm.

Clothing: Jack normally wears a white crew shirt underneath a brown leather jacket, dark blue skinny jeans and brown military boots. He wears silver earrings, a black choker and usually carries a crossbody bag.

Personality: Jack is an outgoing, talkative, and vivacious young man who likes to socialize. In social situations, he is quite carefree, even with those who aren't usually pleasant. However, if he is sufficiently irritated or shocked, he won't hesitate to overreact or make small complaints. Though he is generally well-meaning, Jack can come across as brash and careless at times. He offers advice to people on how to be authentic and more at ease in their own skin. He is carefree and reckless in nature, and, despite his consistent brawls with his siblings, he is a fiercely loyal and protective. Jack is honest with his feelings and is not afraid to extend a hand to someone in trouble.

Like his sister Nadia, he's a bit of a party animal and quite the sex maniac to many girls, but he stopped flirting when he became serious with Roxy. He loves her wholeheartedly and never miss a chance to show his devotion to her. He also has no shame whenever he and Roxy decide to be intimate in public or semi public places.

Jack's most remarkable quality is his immense charm, which stems from his straightforward and sincere nature. One time when he was abducted, he got to know his kidnapper even while he was being kidnapped, and they quickly became friends after exchanging brief words. As a result, he has inadvertently won over a lot of people and is surrounded by friends who he truly cares about and vice versa.

Though not as academically bright, often requiring massive help with studying due to his general disinterest and neglect of school duties with only enough to pass, he's has high emotional intelligence. It usually shows when he's dealing with children, often knowing how to calm them and get them to listen.

That said, he can also be incredibly childish, often trying to out-brat young children, such as asking his mother to buy an entire shelf of chocolate. Only to have his siblings scold him and make him placing back most things.

Like Zuri, he's not easy to anger but will tear down a person with a smile on his face if they ever decide to mess with his family.

College course: Early Childhood Education

Likes: Family and friends, Roxy being cute, J&V, Roxy, energy drinks, juice, Cece's streams, assholes getting karma, fighting games. comedy movies, dark humor, kids, parties, food especially chocolate pancakes, french toasts and beef gyudon, annoying his siblings, alcohol, cartoons and anime, comics and manga, sleeping in, sex toys, freeloading his siblings' Netflix, Grim, fun parties.

War games, making mochi, winning verbal arguments, Stay Alive, movie nights, watermelon golf, teasing his siblings, Neffex, camping, babysitting, arcades, semi-public sex, out bratting kids, zombie apocalypse games, playing the drums, teasing his siblings, carnivals, stealing Cece's snacks, putting his feet on his siblings.

Dislikes: Liars, cheaters, toxic people, misogynists, racists, disrespect or harm to his family, people lusting after his mom, his exes, older people lusting after him, Cece's drink concoctions, Grim stealing his food, people wanting to take advantage of him, his siblings getting heartbroken, getting out-bratted.

Rich people flaunting their wealth (not friends), being called a playboy or fuckboy, people who make Roxy uncomfortable, crazy fans, Getting blamed for Grim's messes, songs with no soul, sea urchin, pickled ginger.

Abilities: Cooking, melee combat, drum proficiency, business sense, hand-to-hand combat, parkour, soccer.

Meaning:

Jackson - son of Jack

Takahiro - Valuable / great, prosperous

Kemonohito - Beast

[lnstallationwizard]

unsolicited advice about bags!!!!!!! i once thought that in order to pass i had to just use my pockets. like the Cis Guys. but like. that was extremely inconvenient (and can make your hips look bigger... bad for dysphoria) so!!! i recommend a Man Bag! like a fanny pack (that you could also wear cross-body) or just a small cross body bag in some Dude color (like black/brown, bonus points if it's Genuine Leather). or even a mini backpack!

anyway the need to 'pass' sucks and i hope you get pronoun'd correctly in public 🫡

i HAVE been considering a fanny pack every now and then....and i hadnt thought of a crossbody but maybe a black one or something *would* work :o thank you for the wisdom cuz sometimes ill be like. ALMOST maybe could be seen as "androgynous". and then i grab my purse 😭😭 so ty!!!!! ^_^

[keepinstyle]

How to buy the perfect messenger bag for men?

With so many messenger crossbody bags in the market, it may be confusing to choose the perfect satchel. This accessory has become one of the most essentials for the style of a modern man. With both shoulder and crossbody straps, you can go anywhere with a stylish messenger bag. Carry your essentials in style with a Crossbody/Shoulder Bag for Men. So, what should you be looking for when buying best leather crossbody bag for men?

Leather vs. Canvas ?

Material is a matter of taste but can also be related to the purpose of use, dress style, cost, and durability. Canvas messenger bags are more for a casual style while in college or travelling, and probably is more for the younger generations. Make sure you get waterproof canvas to protect your items. Also, canvas messenger bags are offered at a lower price. Genuine leather crossbody bags are more suited for business purposes, as they look more elegant. However, some crazy horse style messenger bags can be good also for college, and indeed stylish while travelling. Genuine leather shoulder bags for men look good for all ages and can last a long time, if you follow the care instructions for it. If you are willing to pay a little more money, then a real leather satchel is worth it.

Size with enough space for your essentials

Make sure to know your needs to get the right size of the shoulder bag you intend to buy. If you intend to carry an iPad, laptop, books or other items, check the size information of the ipad bag/ tablet bag before buying and always remember to allow some reasonable margin of expected human error to be on the safe side.

Check the internal features and choose a satchel with a lot of pockets, zipper pockets, internal compartments, and external zipper slots to keep your items well organized. In addition to any needed functionalities.

It is good to get a shoulder bag with adjustable strap to suit your height.

Style:

Crossbody bags come in many styles and functionalities. Some are square, or rectangular across the shoulder which can have enough space if you want to carry an iPad, books, phone and accessories or even laptops. There is also a chest sling bag for men that can be worn as sling backpacks too, which are usually smaller in size, and more convenient to carry and more comfortable for the shoulders.

If you want to use your earphones while carrying the bag, get a chest sling bag for men with an earphone hole. There are sling bags with USB charging port if you need it.

If you are a follower of trends and fashion, or prefer a specific style, you can get a sling bag the suits your taste. However, timeless style cross shoulder bags always prove to be a winner not only for those with a classical taste, but for everyone, especially if you have a reasonable budget for a leather satchel.

Budget:

You can find a selection of canvas across the shoulder bags withing USD 60. If you want to invest more money, say above usd 60, and you want it to stay looking good for a longer time, you can have good choices of leather messenger bag for men within USD 70. Or leather shoulder bags less than USD 80 .

No matter your destination, A well-chosen shoulder bag for men adds a tasteful touch of sophistication to your everyday look, while keeping your items secure, organized, and easy to reach. A perfect combination of style and practicality.

Maha Awad EZLIFEGOODS

[tinblossomsboutique]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Crossbody Yellow Bag Purse.

[tastabags]

The Versatility of Vegan Leather Sling Bags: Perfect for Work, Play, and Travel

Step into the timeless luxury of vegan leather sling bags. These bags are similar to shoulder bags, featuring a long strap across the body, making them ideal for hand-free fashion. These bags ' transitions are superb from work to school and small travels. They help you breeze through the city or travel on long-haul flights, and these bags carry all your essentials neatly organized.  

On-the-Go Seamless Transition with Tasta Bags

Whether you're headed to a professional meeting or embarking on a weekend adventure, Tasta Bags has a product for your needs. Our exclusively designed vegan leather crossbody bags keep up with your latest dynamic lifestyles without compromising on vanity and functionality. Meticulously handcrafted and with attention to detail, these products are genuinely timeless and make a valuable investment for anyone and, in fact, everyone. Carrying a Tasta Bag ensures you are ready for whatever life throws your way.

Here is why our vegan leather sling bags shine through various life settings.

Stylish with Eco-friendly Add-on:

Tasta Bags is a premium pick for office wear as they can store all your essentials and laptop. Generally, these come with a water-resistant feature, so worries of spills splash. The foremost reason for getting these bags is to find an ethical and sustainable alternative to traditional leather bags. We all know genuine leather derives from an opprobrious, cruel, and environmentally damaging industry. It involves the clear-cutting of forests, the use of toxic chemicals, and the inhumane treatment of animals. With vegan leather, you can show the style without compromising your value. Whether you prefer a sleek black bag for a professional look or a vibrant option, Tasta has all the options on its web page.

Perfectly fit from day to night:

Another standout feature of these bags is their ability to transition effortlessly from workplace to play. You can use it while heading to a business meeting or give it to your children for school. It gives you ample space for laptops, notebooks, or gym gear. All you need to do is adjust your bag strap, and the look is ready the way you want.

Travel Companion:

Streamline your essentials while travelling to another city or even flying to another country. Its crossbody design ensures hands-free convenience, allowing you to navigate busy airports or crowded city streets comfortably. Additionally, it will give you an elegant and stylish yet professional look. After all, travelling never means losing your sense of fashion just because you are moving.

Longevity and Easy Maintenance:

Style and sustainability go hand in hand. Traditional leather requires extra care, but this is not the case with vegan products. Vegan leather is low-maintenance, making it ideal for busy lives.

Final Giveaway:

Man or woman, the vegan leather bags are designed to keep up with your fast-paced lifestyle, ensuring you look effortlessly chic no matter where you go.

[dralysstore]

Elevate Your Style with Dralys: Affordable Fashion Accessories, Men's Casual Shoes, and Women's Winter Jackets

In the fast-paced world of fashion, staying stylish does not have to break the bank. At Dralys, we believe that looking great and feeling confident should be accessible to everyone. That is why we offer a curated selection of affordable fashion accessories, men’s casual shoes for everyday wear, and fashionable women’s jackets for winter. Let us explore how these essentials can elevate your wardrobe without compromising your budget.

Affordable Fashion Accessories to Transform Your Look

Accessories can make or break an outfit. At Dralys, we offer a diverse range of affordable fashion accessories that can enhance any look. From statement jewelry to stylish bags, our accessories are designed to help you express your individuality while staying on budget.

Jewelry That Shines

Our collection of jewelry features pieces that are trendy yet timeless. Whether you prefer dainty necklaces, bold statement earrings, or stackable bracelets, you will find something that speaks to your style. With prices that will not make you cringe; you can easily mix and match different pieces to create a unique look every day.

Stylish Bags and Purses

A great bag can elevate even the simplest outfit. Dralys offers a variety of bags and purses in different styles, colors, and sizes, ensuring that you will find the perfect accessory to complement your wardrobe. From chic crossbody bags to roomy totes, our collection caters to your every need - whether you are heading to the office, going out with friends, or enjoying a casual day out.

Scarves and Hats for a Fashionable Touch

When it comes to accessories, do not forget about scarves and hats! These items can add an extra layer of style and warmth to your outfits. Dralys carries an array of scarves in various materials and patterns, perfect for any season. Pair a stylish hat with your outfit for a chic, polished look that’s also practical.

Men’s Casual Shoes for Everyday Wear

Comfort and style go hand in hand at Dralys, especially when it comes to our selection of men’s casual shoes. Designed for everyday wear, our footwear collection combines functionality with fashionable aesthetics, making it easy for men to look sharp without sacrificing comfort.

Versatile Sneakers

Sneakers are a must-have in any man’s wardrobe, and our collection features versatile options that can easily transition from casual outings to more formal occasions. With a range of colors and designs, you can find the perfect pair to match your style. Whether you prefer classic white sneakers or bold patterned options, our shoes are designed to keep you comfortable all day long.

Smart-Casual Loafers

For those days when you want to dress up without going too formal, loafers are the perfect choice. Dralys offers a selection of smart-casual loafers that provide a sophisticated touch to your outfit. Pair them with chinos or dark jeans for a polished look that is suitable for work or social events.

Durable and Stylish Boots

As the seasons change, having a reliable pair of boots becomes essential. Our collection includes durable and stylish boots designed for everyday wear. With options ranging from classic leather to modern suede, you can find boots that will keep you warm and looking great throughout the colder months.

Fashionable Women’s Jackets for Winter

As the temperatures drop, layering becomes key to staying warm while maintaining a fashionable appearance. Dralys offers a stunning selection of women’s jackets that are not only stylish but also functional, ensuring you look chic without compromising on comfort.

Trendy Puffer Jackets

Puffer jackets have made a strong comeback in recent years, and for good reason. They offer warmth without sacrificing style. At Dralys, we carry a range of trendy puffer jackets in various colors and lengths, allowing you to choose one that fits your personality. These jackets are perfect for casual outings, winter sports, or simply running errands while staying cozy.

Classic Wool Coats

For a more sophisticated look, our classic wool coats are a must-have in every woman’s winter wardrobe. These timeless pieces add an air of elegance to any outfit. Whether you prefer a long trench coat or a tailored pea coat, you can easily dress it up or down depending on the occasion.

Chic Parkas for Everyday Wear

Parkas are an excellent option for those who prioritize warmth and functionality without sacrificing style. Dralys offers chic parkas that are designed with modern silhouettes and practical features. With pockets and insulated linings, our parkas are perfect for keeping you comfortable while looking effortlessly stylish.

Why Choose Dralys?

Shopping at Dralys means choosing quality, affordability, and style all in one place. Our mission is to provide fashionable options for everyone, ensuring that you can look your best without straining your wallet.

Commitment to Quality

We source our products from trusted suppliers, ensuring that every item meets our high-quality standards. You can shop with confidence, knowing that you are getting stylish pieces that will last.

Exceptional Customer Service

At Dralys, we value our customers. Our team provides exceptional service and support to ensure you have a pleasant shopping experience. Whether you have questions about sizing or need help choosing the right accessory, we are here to assist you.

Stay Ahead of Trends

We keep our collection fresh and up-to-date with the latest fashion trends. By shopping at Dralys, you can stay ahead of the curve and express your unique style with confidence.

Conclusion

Elevate your wardrobe this season with affordable fashion accessories, comfortable men’s casual shoes, and fashionable women’s jackets from Dralys. With our commitment to quality and style, you can shop confidently and find the perfect pieces to enhance your personal style. Discover our collection today and embrace a fashionable lifestyle without the hefty price tag!

[richandrich-blog]

FYI: JEEP BULUO Multi-function Business Handbags Men New Man's Shoulder Bag Large Capacity Leather Messenger Bag Crossbody Big Brand http://dlvr.it/TF3v1G