#mens designer cufflinks

[locketgarage]

"A Touch of You: Font Customized Cufflinks"

Here’s an updated description for Font Customized Cufflinks with the anti-tarnish feature:

"Add a personal and stylish touch to your formal attire with our Font Customized Cufflinks. These cufflinks are designed to reflect your individuality through a variety of customizable fonts, allowing you to create a one-of-a-kind accessory that speaks to your unique style. Whether you prefer sleek modern fonts, classic serifs, or something more playful, the choice is yours, ensuring your cufflinks are as distinctive as you are.

Crafted from high-quality materials, these cufflinks offer durability and timeless elegance. Perfect for weddings, business meetings, or special occasions, the Font Customized Cufflinks can be personalized with initials, names, dates, or even meaningful words to make a lasting impression.

With a precision engraving that ensures every detail is sharp and clear, these cufflinks are designed to complement any outfit. Plus, with the added benefit of an anti-tarnish coating, they will maintain their brilliant shine and luster over time. The anti-tarnish protection keeps them looking fresh, ensuring they stay free from oxidation and maintain their beauty for years to come.

Whether you're treating yourself or gifting them to someone special, these Font Customized Cufflinks are the perfect way to combine personal expression with refined sophistication."

This version emphasizes the anti-tarnish feature, ensuring that the cufflinks stay shiny and beautiful over time.

[cufflinkguide]

https://cottonsourceshirt.com/how-to-choose-wear-cufflinks-to-style-your-shirts/

The Art of Cufflinks: Adding a Touch of Class to Your Shirts!!

[designyourtie]

Elevate your branding with scarves featuring logos from Design Your Tie. These custom-designed scarves are perfect for promoting your business, showcasing team spirit, or enhancing corporate identity with elegance and style. Crafted from premium materials, these scarves ensure both durability and sophistication. Whether for events, staff uniforms, or giveaways, a logo-embroidered scarf adds a professional and personalized touch. Explore various design options and create a scarf that truly represents your brand. Learn more at Design Your Tie.

[blingschlingersjewelry]

Thrifty Thursday !

To my fellow Jewelry Addicts, never been to Blingschlingers.com, use discount code : WELCOME for an additional 10% off our already Low Prices! No Minimum Required!

Save Big + Your Shopping Green ♻ with our Sterling Silver & Gold Estate Jewelry !

oh BTW.. these bold & unique cuff-links are only $18.00! 🤩

[fear-is-truth]

# SUGAR DADDY! BRUCE WAYNE — hc

synopsis — your life as bruce wayne’s sugar baby warnings — suggestive. mdni a/n — if law school doesn’t work out… this is my dream career lol (exclusively bruce wayne)

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

he’s strict about keeping things low-profile. no selfies, no pictures together, and definitely no talking to anyone about your arrangement. but when it’s just the two of you, behind closed doors, though, his edges softened—not soft soft, of course, but as close as bruce wayne could ever get.

bruce is every inch the gentleman when he’s out with you—always placing his hand on the small of your back when guiding you through a crowd or escorting you to his car, a subtle but firm gesture that says, you’re mine, and i’m looking after you. he opens doors for you without fail, pulls out your chair at restaurants, and always walks on the street side of the sidewalk, even if it means switching places mid-walk. if you’re wearing heels, he keeps a steadying hand at your waist when you go down stairs.

even in private, he’s super thoughtful—draping a blanket over you when you’re curled up on the couch, pressing a kiss to your temple as he passes by.

bruce isn’t overly affectionate in public, but in private, he’s tactile and tender. he’ll pull you onto his lap while he works at his desk, one arm wrapped around your waist as his free hand taps at his keyboard. “just stay here,” he’ll say when you try to move. “you’re not distracting me.” though the way his lips find your neck every few minutes says otherwise.

bruce values your mind as much as your beauty, and he shows it in the way he engages you. whether you’re discussing a book, a piece of art, or the nuances of history, he listens with genuine interest. when he occasionally challenges your points, it’s never in that dismissive, mansplaining tone that most self-assured men use—it’s thoughtful and designed to draw out your best arguments.

he’s particular about keeping things convenient for you, so he’s arranged for you to have access to one of his apartments in the city. it’s fully furnished, with a stocked fridge, top-of-the-line security, and a walk-in closet he keeps replenishing with new outfits.

bruce’s love language is acts of service and quality time, but his wealth makes gift-giving his default.

has alfred handle all the logistics of getting you the best: tickets to exclusive shows, reservations at restaurants you didn’t even know existed, and private shopping appointments where he foots the bill without a batting an eye.

sends you on luxurious trips during your breaks—paris, tokyo, the maldives. you’re not sure how he pulls it off without anyone finding out, but bruce wayne always has his ways.

he pays attention to your interests and hobbies, subtly encouraging you to indulge. if you mention liking a certain author, musician or a brand, you’ll find their newest release or collection waiting for you the next day.

leaves his black card with you whenever he has to leave on business. “buy yourself something nice,” he says like you don’t already have everything you could possibly want.

bruce has an almost masochistic appreciation for how deeply you affect him. when you tease him. the first time you call him daddy, it’s in that girlish, playful tone, meant to test how far he’d let you get away with. bruce freezes for a millisecond, his face carefully blank, but the dark glint in his eyes gives him away. he exhales slowly, but the extra time he spends adjusting his cufflinks is a tell—you’ve gotten under his skin.

has a love-hate relationship with the short, tight skirts you wear around him. on one hand, he can’t deny how much they drive him mad, how his eyes inevitably linger on the curve of your ass, like he’s entertaining the idea of ripping the skirt off. on the other hand, he hates the idea of anyone else seeing you like that. he’ll chide you in that authoritative tone of his, maybe even smacking your pert ass for extra emphasis (when in private)

despite the chastising, the next day, he’ll gift you a collection of couture skirts and dresses that fit his exacting standards—form-fitting but elegant, sexy but understated. if you insist on being a distraction, you’ll do it his way.

he loves when you wear his clothes—especially his shirts. seeing you in something oversized and smelling faintly of sex and his cologne drives him insane. but he also loves taking it off you.

he’s not above making you jealous, though it’s very rare. if he senses you’ve been a little too independent lately, he’ll let a socialite or two flirt with him at a party just to see your reaction. when you glare at him from across the room, he’ll flash that infuriatingly charming smile and mouth, “come here.” the second you’re alone, he’ll have you pressed tightly against the wall. “you know there’s no one else for me,” he mutters between hot kisses. “but i like seeing you fight for it.”

has an infuriating habit of teasing you in public, keeping you just on the edge of propriety. he’ll whisper filthy things in your ear during a black-tie gala, his hand resting on your thigh under the table. “be good for me,” his thumb grazes discreetly beneath the hem of your dress, and when your cheeks heat up, he just smirks and kisses the spot beneath your ear.

the car rides are his favourite indulgence. he tells the chauffeur to take the long way home, windows darkened, privacy partition up, while fucking you in every position possible.

has a weakness for seeing you in pieces he’s chosen himself. the delicate lace, silk, and satin he picks out always feel indulgent, tailored to fit your body and his preferences. he leaves boxes for you to find, with a note in his neat handwriting: this one tonight

he buys you diamond necklaces and earrings so extravagant they could rival museum pieces. every time, he insists you model them for him—alone, in the privacy of his bedroom. “just the necklace,” he’ll say with a smirk, his tone leaving no room for argument. the sight of you standing there, bare except for the glittering gems, leaves him utterly speechless. and then he’ll step closer, eyes trailing over the diamonds on your neck before his hands wander elsewhere.

sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly indulgent, bruce will forgo sleep altogether just to spend the night making love with you.

he’s a perfectionist in every aspect of his life, including the bedroom. he’s meticulous about learning what makes you tick, and takes immense pride in knowing your body better than you do. precisely which spots make you gasp, which areas make you arch your back. steady and precise, he’s always tuning in to your reactions. he doesn’t rush, taking his time to explore, kiss, and touch in a way that makes you feel completely cared for.

he can go for hours, but he’s patient, too. enjoying the process as much as the end result—taking his time to kiss, to touch, to indulge in every inch of your body.

bruce is insatiable, but he’s also deeply considerate. though he’s always hungry for you, there’s never a moment where he isn’t attuned to your needs, making sure you’re enjoying yourself, always ready to slow down or adjust if you need him to.

loves leaving marks on your body, but he’s careful about where—always hidden, tiny traces of his presence on your skin that only he gets to see.

still, when he notices you wince as you shift in your seat, he puts on a somewhat sheepish expression, offering a murmured, “sorry about that.” but you can see the faint smirk gracing his lips, the flicker of pride in his eyes. it’s all a front—he’s anything but apologetic.

he watches you drift off in his arms, your breathing steady and soft, the rise and fall of your chest lulling him into a rare moment of peace. his lips brush against your bare shoulder, the small gesture as fleeting as the thought that follows—he doesn’t deserve you—but he’s selfish enough to keep you anyway.

tagging — @suumaer

[chokore123]

In essence, designer cufflinks are a language of their own, and wearing them is a beautiful way to express oneself. They are not just an accessory but a reflection of one's personality, interests, and values. Order a pair of cufflinks from Chokore online store.

[harrysformenswear]

Explore The Most Demanding Designer Shirts For Men In Australia

If you want to buy menswear that is of high quality and comes in different styles, Harry's for Menswear is the best clothing in Australia. We offer the best products and customer service in Australia. We have created a fabulous community of customers who have come to trust us over many years. Our goal is to provide you with quality menswear at affordable prices. We want that you can look great without breaking the bank. Our products are made only of the finest materials, and our customer service team will help you find what you need. To learn more about designer shirts for men, contact us now.

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Late Jason birthday fic!!!!

MDNI

warnings: jason devouring reader's poosay

You and Jason have been dating just under a year. And today was the first time celebrating with him the day he dreaded the most. His birthday.

If he HAD to celebrate it with his family, he'd want a small get-together, sharing his special day with Alfred.

NOT this damn gala that Bruce organised, seemingly just to spite him. Bruce excused that it was mainly for Alfred, but since they shared the special day, Jason had to be there, too. Now Jason feared the most; being surrounded by rich assholes, half-heartedly wishing him a happy birthday.

But you seemed excited to finally celebrate his birthday with him, and seeing you so eager made Jason's heart swell. He's just gonna have to suck it up and put on his big boy pants and go.

"You ready, baby?" Jason asked, coming into your room. The second he sees you in that damn black dress, complimented with red, he thinks he's lost it. He couldn't even take his eyes off the long slit of the dress that revealed a glimpse of your thigh. If you didn't answer him, he'd think he'd forget how to breathe because, oh, how you were breathtaking.

"Mhm, let me just put my shoes on." You say, taking his arm and leading him to the front door where your black heels with red outsoles laid.

"Is you being all dolled up my birthday present, sweetness?" Jason asked, a sly smirk on his face as he holds onto your waist, helping you balance as you put your heels on.

You chuckled. "It can be if you want it to be. But my actual present for you will be given later." You said, kissing his cheek. "C'mon, let's go."

Jason leads you to his car, and on the drive to the manor, it takes all his willpower not to let his hand that laid on your thigh sneak under the slit and inch up higher.

You held onto Jason arm as he led you into the manor. You expected big, but god, everything and everyone looked so extravagant.

You caught a glimpse of Alfred standing near Bruce and your eyes light up.

"C'mon, Jay!" You said excitedly, tugging him towards where the two men were standing. Jason groans, knowing he'd have to talk to Bruce, but on the other hand, he does want to wish his grandfather a hapoy birthday.

"Happy birthday, Alfie!" You exclaimed, giving the old man a hug before giving him a little bag that contained your gift for him.

He thanks you, telling you that you didn't have ti, but highly appreciates the sentiment. Jason offers a small smile and a quiet, happy birthday before giving him a hug.

"Glad you can come, Jason." Bruce said with a satisfied smile.

"I didn't come here because you told me to or because I felt like it." Jason huffs, looking away.

"Many people have been expecting you." Alfred said.

"And they have gifts." Bruce added. "I expect you to behave. But I don't doubt that she will keep you in check." He said, nodding towards you. You snickered in response while Jason just rolled his eyes, taking your hand, pulling you away from them.

You stayed beside Jason, watching as he uncomfortably mingled with the party guests, giving him his birthday presents.

It started fine. Totally fine. It was nice seeing Jason receiving such nice gifts.

But the more you witnessed him opening the presents, the more self-conscious you got about the gift you have yet to give him.

His given presents consisted of gold cufflinks, finest champagne, designer clothing, luxury cologne, fancy watches, and so much more. You couldn't even think about how much these things could've cost.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Jason murmurs, whispering in your ear as he tilts your chin up to look at him. You were so lost in thought, you didn't even realise Jason was complaining to you how much he wanted to go home.

You nodded with a small smile. "Mhm. Little overwhelmed, I guess." You said, clinging onto his arm.

"Maybe another hour, ma. Then we can go home." He assured you, kissing your forhead.

And it does assure you. He loves you. And he'd love the gift you have in store for him. But still. You're unable to scratch the utch in your head from all the expensive gifts he's receiving.

You sighed, kicking your shoes off, flopping back onto the bed once the two of you returned home. Following Jason around and watching him open gifts can be exhausting.

Jason shrugs his jacket off, throwing it somewhere on the floor, lying beside you. "So. You gonna give me a gift now or continue to keep me on my toes?" He asked with a grin.

You fidget with your hands, picking at your cuticles. "Mm.. can you wait til tomorrow?" You said sheepishly. Maybe you can wake up before him and rush out to the nearest jewellers and get him a nice watch or something.

His brows pinch together with concern, watching the dejected look on your face. He props himself up on one of his elbows, his fave looming over yours.

"What's with the sour look, sour puss?" He teases, poking your nose. "What's wrong?"

You sighed, looking at him. "Nothing. Just tired." You muttered.

"Bullshit.." He murmured, lowering himself down to nuzzle his nose against your jaw, his lips just barely grazing your skin.

You lightly groan. "You got really nice gifts." You said with embarrassment.

He pulls away, his face scrunched up in confusion. "Wanna elaborate, sweet thing?"

You whined with frustration, rubbing your hands over your face. "All your gifts were just so... lavish. Just wait til tomorrow, I can get a better gift."

"Baby." Jason said firmly. "Let me see your gift."

You frowned, knowing he'd pry and pry until he saw your gift. You grumbled, getting uo to reach underneath your bed, pulling out a small decorative paper bag, handing it to him.

Jason carefully took it, like he was scared that his big, rough hands would break the delicate material. He opened the bag, digging through the red shredded tissue paper.

His eyes slightly widened as he pulled out a bookmark. It had a thin gold frame, the bookmark itself having a coloured silhouette of what looked like you and Jason, and in intricate writing, the quote "you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you," written above the silhouettes.

"Holy shit..." Jason whispered as his fingers traced the fragile details of the gold frame.

You grumbled, not even wanting to think what he thought of it. "Jay, I promise I'll get you a better gif—"

"No!" He suddenly said, bringing the bookmark close to his chest. "I love this..." He whispered, staring at you with a wide grin.

"What? Really? It was only like 30 bucks.." You muttered, looking down at your lap.

He scoffed. "So? Who cares?"

"What!? But.. all your other presents—"

"Were shallow and thoughtless and were from snobby assholes who don't even know my name." He interrupted, carefully placing his bookmark on the nightstand before gently cupping your cheek. "But this gift, the one you're so worked up about..." He carefully pulls you on his lap. "Is the best I've received tonight." He kissed your forhead. "My favourite gift." He kissed your nose. "From my favourite girl." He kissed your lips.

You frowned. "But still!" You whined. But he shuts you up with another kiss.

"Not still.." He muttered against your lips. You hated the effect he had on you. You couldn't even argue as you melted against him, your hands lacing together behind his neck.

One of his hands gripped your hip as the other slid up your thigh, through the slit of your dress, just like he wanted to do all night.

Before going further, he laid you on the bed, his hands at either side of your face as he hovered over you.

He leaned down, lips attached to yours once more. This time, it was more sloppy and desperate, your hands pawing at his chest, fiddling with his buttons.

He helped you take his shirt off, throwing it over where his jacket laid as he travelled from your lips down to your jaw, immediately sucking on your sweet spot. You reach up to his hair, tugging it slightly as he groaned, his hips rolling down against yours.

"Fuck.." He muttered, his hands scrunching up the fabric of your dress in his fists. Being the feral man he is, he ripped your dress, the cool breeze nippng your skin making you gasp.

"Jay!" You squealed.

"Shh, I'll buy you another one.." He discarded the ripped dress with the other clothing on the floor.

"Up." He said, hands slithering under your back. You leaned up, letting him unclasp your bra. He cursed, his lips already around your nipple as you moaned, feeling his tongue swirl around it as his other hand was busy massaging your other breast.

"Fuck, sweetheart.." He groaned, his hands continuing to squeeze your chest as he trailed furthed down your body.

He stopped at your clothed core, your panties already soaked. He stretched the lace, letting go, making the elastic snap against your skin. You flinched at the feeling, your face heating up.

Jason gave the damp spot a soft kiss before ripping your underwear off, throwing it behind him. "I like this birthday present too..." He muttered, kissing your inner thigh.

"Jay, please.." You whimpered, bucking your hips up.

"Shh.. patience. Let me enjoy my birthday meal, hm?" He said, lips inching closer to your aching cunt.

"Jay.. Jay, I— Ah!" With no warning, his mouth dived inti your pussy, licking up the dripping precum like a man starved.

"Fuck, ma.." He grunted. You whimpered, your legs shaking, feeling his tongue lap over your folds and his stubble scratching your skin. "Tastes so good..."

You pull his hair, mixed sounds of your whines and squeals together with his tongue buried in your wet cunt filling the room.

You felt your core burning up, and your stomach twisting in knots while your legs shook. You chanted his name like a mantra, your head thrown back into they pillow, back arched, and your hips lifted uo further in his face as you came. Your eyes were shut tight, and you swore you saw stars.

You panted as Jason licked you clean, and when your eyes opened, there were black dots everywhere. Even looking down, seeing Jason's face stuffed between your legs made you feel like cumming again.

Jason hummed, crawling back up, kissing your lips as you tasted yourself.

"Now.." He flipped you two over, so you were straddling his lap. "I know you have another gift for me.." He said as whined, feeling his hard buldge beneath his pants.

okay. lowkey not satisfied with the way i write this but ermmmm... hope yous like it!!!

[futurequibblerjournalist]

Since you mentioned the absolute wizard cunt the Blacks and now Gilderoy would serve in the Wizarding world, what about the others? Esp the older era. Let me have Edmund Senior in robes w sleeves that melt into the cloak and have feather-y shapes on them. Barty Sr with the gayest looking Joseph and the Technicolour Coat looking poncho ass robes. Cygnus who matches his cane to his clothes (iirc his mother hits him with it? Even if she doesn't he probably had one for his spine idk :p). SLUGHORN out cunting them all omg. Aghhhh I can only imagine the cunt Gilderoy's parents served

The way I could talk about wizard fashion for fucking ever,,,, urghhhh,,,

I've already shared my headcanon about how homemade lace plays a big part in pureblood society because the wives are able to stay home and work on them and how darker colours (because they're more difficult to work with) are a higher status symbol. The more lace the more important you are. It's the same with beading. Idk if anyone's seen it but there was a tweet going around where you zoomed in on some jean fabric and some plaid an it was actually all just tiny beads and stuff like that screams pureblood families to me.

They'd wear so much jewellery, the older the better. Anything that represents your house's animals, like Edmund Senior wearing something with owl feathers or the Malfoys wearing something with peacock feathers,,, like a long lavish white cape that is all feathers that pretty much just floats on the floor

Fabric that's enchanted to have stars or constellations on them, I just know the Sinistra's would wear something like that. Part of their fashion being inspired by the fact that so many people consider pureblood families a bit nuts and they just lean into it. Barty Crouch Junior attending a ball of some sort wearing a coat that lowkey looks like a straitjacket and no one bats and eye because that's normal pureblood attire. Evan who similarly has teeth made into cufflinks etc,,,

Canes that are fashion accessories, like Lucius's which also hides his wand. Cygnus who, on the rare occasions that he brings them out in public, matches them to his outfits. (Also you are correct, his mother does beat him with it, but more specifically when Alphard's tattles on him for hitting him with the cane when he's being annoying)

Gender roles to me are less so in the wizarding world than it is in the muggle universe. Long robes that border on dresses, wide, bedazzled collars and long hair for men are not that uncommon. A bit of a heel could probably go on too, if the shoe is fancy enough.

Shoes, jackets, bags, hats etc being made with magical creatures or even other magical beings in general would not surprise me in the slightest (we already see this being a thing with the Black family's interior design)

Also for Slughorn specifically,,,, urgh I love that silly old man. I think he'd wear a lot of suits, a lot of different fabrics for his vests under the suits. They're always a little tight against his large stomach,,, they're also always some kind of fancy pattern. He gets pocket squares from his former students and he's got a little box for them all and he will mention it whenever he wears them!!!!

[astronomiaa]

Headcanon (theory?): Jacob's shilling necklace was actually Cecily's

It feels like there's always been a bit of a mystery to why Jacob wears the shilling necklace, ranging from it could just be a unique design choice or Jacob keeping a lucky coin on him since he has a tendency to try his luck. It's always felt like it's held some sort of significance - at least to me? Jacob's seen wearing the necklace even before he and Evie head to London, when he's still wearing his Simply Jacob outfit (his starter-mon outfit, if you will). A physical copy of the necklace was also included for anyone who pre-ordered Syndicate.

So it's kind of bumbled around in my head, until I discovered victorian love tokens while doing some research and it's like the dots have connected.

For anyone who doesn't know, like I didn't, love tokens were coins that were handcarved by a family member, a suitor to be, or friends, and given to a recipient to convey feelings. They weren't just romantic! They have a long history, but the victorians were crazy for them and love tokens became a pretty popular physical embodiment of ones love for another person. (Especially so, because they were usually made using coins - and the British already had a tradition of keeping lucky coins in their pocket? Fun!)

Most often they would be carved with names and dates, words to describe the relationship between the two, etc. In rarer cases (or at least considered rare to find for collectors of today), they would be carved with pictures that would be symbolically important for the giver and recipient.

I bring this up because for anyone who was lucky enough to receive an actual Jacob Pendant from ubisoft, or just bought of a replica off like... etsy or something, you know that Jacob's pendant actually has the Assassin symbol carved onto it.

In my opinion, this definitely makes the shilling a token of some sort! It could possibly be a token carried by all English Assassins, a way to recognize one another, but I like to believe that it may have been a romantic gift from Ethan to Cecily. After all, they were both two VERY devoted Assassins who were considered to have come the closest to freeing London from Templar rule before Henry, Jacob, and Evie. Whatever reason for the token, we can at least assume the token was Cecily's!

How do we know it's Cecily's? How it's meant to be worn!

Since tokens were made out of coins, which were in turn made out of semi precious metals, tokens could be turned into jewelry. It was common for women to wear them as bracelets, pendents, necklaces, and earrings. Men would wear them as cufflinks and put them on watch chains.

Jacob's shilling pendant is well... a pendant. It's traditionally womens jewelry (though I don't think Jacob could care any less about the way jewelry is meant to be worn in relation to gender).

So yeah! Even if I'm connecting dots that may not quite be there, the thought of Jacob having something of Cecily's is... nice. Especially since... Ethan and Jacob did not have uh, the best of relationships.

Anyways, thanks for reading my silly lil headcanon and have a nice day!

[locketgarage]

"A Touch of You: Font Customized Cufflinks"

Here’s an updated description for Font Customized Cufflinks with the anti-tarnish feature:

"Add a personal and stylish touch to your formal attire with our Font Customized Cufflinks. These cufflinks are designed to reflect your individuality through a variety of customizable fonts, allowing you to create a one-of-a-kind accessory that speaks to your unique style. Whether you prefer sleek modern fonts, classic serifs, or something more playful, the choice is yours, ensuring your cufflinks are as distinctive as you are.

Crafted from high-quality materials, these cufflinks offer durability and timeless elegance. Perfect for weddings, business meetings, or special occasions, the Font Customized Cufflinks can be personalized with initials, names, dates, or even meaningful words to make a lasting impression.

With a precision engraving that ensures every detail is sharp and clear, these cufflinks are designed to complement any outfit. Plus, with the added benefit of an anti-tarnish coating, they will maintain their brilliant shine and luster over time. The anti-tarnish protection keeps them looking fresh, ensuring they stay free from oxidation and maintain their beauty for years to come.

Whether you're treating yourself or gifting them to someone special, these Font Customized Cufflinks are the perfect way to combine personal expression with refined sophistication."

This version emphasizes the anti-tarnish feature, ensuring that the cufflinks stay shiny and beautiful over time.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt II the wedding dress: crowley's shirt

Dear GOD this post is so overdue I blame the 10khaos. But never fear I'm back on my bullshit.

Okay I'll just add the overview here and then get started on the info-dumping:

THE SHIRT OVERVIEW: For the shirt (which goes under the corset and cummerbund like I described in the pt I post), I went with the basic design sleeve-wise of a typical Victorian-era men's shirt, but with a shorter length (somewhere between a Victorian women's chemisette and the men's shirt). The length is reduced so it doesn't interfere with the silhouette at the waist where the upper part of the dress meets the lower (the lower half hasn't been drawn yet because I got hyperfixated on the cufflinks).

THE NECKLINE AND BODICE: The material would be muslin and it has a Regency-era neckline and bodice, both of these factors inspired by a 1805-1810 Regency muslin evening gown in the Victoria and Albert museum. Regency era gowns typically gathered just under the bust, and so will this shirt, which gives the slight pleats at the bodice below the ruffles. I figured this was best given which parts of the shirt would be visible and which hidden under the corset and jacket.

THE GOOD OMENS ALLUSIONS: The Victorian era is when the Edinburgh minisode happened, which is why I've leaned on it for the shirt. The Regency era, on the other hand, is where most of Jane Austen's novels were set, and so the neckline is a nod to Aziraphale's love for her novels and the ballroom dance he organised in season 2.

For reference, below are (L to R) a Victorian men's shirt, a chemisette, and the neckline and bodice of the V&A Regency dress:

[don't mind the shit images just take the vibes I'm working on a Canva whiteboard and I do NOT keep things organised on there]

Okay I think the ruffles actually need a separate post because I did a lot of overthinking for them. It involved textile trade in the Edwardian era and a lot of lace and Good Omens motifs.

Well... prepare for the ruffles post you poor sods you created a monster.

[jamiesfootball]

Silliness ensues:

No one said a goddamn word about disguises; Roy would’ve popped them around the head if they did, anger management and therapy be damned. This wasn’t a Mission Impossible movie, this was- 

-grown men infiltrating their friends rival restaurant to see what kind of dirt they could turn up.

Isaac and Jamie shared a bewildered look, before turning to Roy as if he were the crazy one.

"We agreed on putting the reservations under a fake name. Why the fuck would we come dressed as ourselves?”

Maybe Roy deserved to get bopped on the head too.

He tugged at the sleeves of his leather jacket and refused to feel self-conscious from the proximity alone. A feat in itself given the vomit of clothes that Jamie proudly strutted around in.

Chartreuse didn’t begin to cover it. Why Jamie considered a - and he was using the word loosely here - designer track suit was appropriate attire for anything higher than a food court was beyond Roy’s comprehension. The acidic highlighter color rendered it nearly glow in the dark.

"It’s bright and distracting so won’t recognize my face,” Jamie explained.

Isaac wagged his finger at him. “Smart.”

[…]

Isaac was dressed like goddamn Indiana Jones. The professor version. With the glasses.

“Is that tweed?” Jamie asked curiously, and Roy prayed to whatever god would listen to spare the world from Jamie Tartt experimenting with woven fabrics .

Isaac rolled his shoulders; the suit jacket whimpered where it circled the bulk of his shoulders. “Sure is. Sustainably sourced, too.”

The intrigued glint in Jamie’s eyes warned Roy that sometime soon on a morning run he would be held hostage by a very annoying tangent.

Sam, a normal person dressed a stylish blue silken suit, surveyed Isaac's suit thoughtfully. “The tailoring is wonderfully done.”

He said nothing about Jamie’s outfit. Smart lad.

Colin rolled up in a suit - a good start - but bottled it by coming near the window, where the light revealed the deep purple material to be shot through with shimmering leopard spots.

“Fuck, Colin. You wore a disguise too?”

Colin froze mid-buttoning his cufflinks. “We were supposed to wear disguises?”

[designyourtie]

DesignYourTie's custom graduation stole design service is perfect for any graduate who wants to create a stole that reflects their personality and academic achievements. Choose from a variety of colors, patterns, and designs to create a stole that is truly unique and will be a cherished memento for years to come.

[wolpatinga]

based off of discussions with a friend:

does is dr henry "harry" jekyll wearing a lab coat?

in front of lanyon: maybe. just to flex. this is a *special* thick coat of leather or canvas that he really only wears if for some reason he has to use someone else's lab or someone's observing him. this has not really happened since he stopped teaching. now it's probably in one of those crates on the ground floor of the lab

in any other circumstances: no. no he would not

this is the type of mfer who, if he lived outside of the upper crust, forgets EVERY SINGLE TIME that you shouldn't flip food in the frying pan with your fingers. yes its faster. yes you keep burning your hands with hot oil. stop doing it. JEKYLL I SAID STOP- you burned yourself again. dumbass

anyways. jekyll doing that but with crazy strong acids and bases. fucked up burns cause he can't be damned to use PPE. also lab safety standards were... much more chill

he's "ya dad" (maybe not actually your dad, but this sort of character) who doesn't use safety goggles when using power tools cause he's "got spectacles" and he'll "be fine, quit your worryng". and then the vapors get in his eyes and you see "ya dad" weep tears he cannot let himself shed otherwise. is this why you don't wear safety glasses? dad?

anyways. jekyll forgetting to take off cufflinks after going straight from royal society schmoozing back to the lab, and tarnishing the silver to hell with chems. poole tossing *yet another* pair of silver cufflinks and knowing those were worth several months' salary but what can he do?

aso like, surgeons aprons were probably a thing, but not so much lab coats. probably could buy a fireman's coat though and use one of those. firefighters were mostly volunteer brigades then, aka you put together a group of hardy men and charge in there and steal whatever valuables you can, then put the fire out. someone has to be making coats for them, go get one of those. or knowing jekyll, he probably went and got his custom made by some haute couture designer, the wanker he is

imagining him waltzing into lanyon's little clinic in cavendish square, to "help prep medicines! :3" wearing his ridiculous custom leather lab coat. lanyon accepts the help cause he's swamped with patients but goddamnit did it have to be jekyll

and people later talking about the handsome doctor in the coat who was making the medicines and lanyon fuming because its *his* clinic. why does it give jekyll publicity???

jekyll having that moist von lipwig swag where if he's in the stupid flashy coat, everyone knows its him. and yes he offered to get lanyon a coat too but 1 its bulky and 2 it makes weird noises and 3 accepting a gift from jekyll means accepting his smarm. and he'll never let you forget it

[sweetbillwriting]

The Finer Things

Mask On, Mask Off - Part 4

Description: Ines lives a modest life in Brooklyn but has a secret, a valuable painting. Out of nowhere Vincent De Gramont appears and wants to help her sell it. He welcomes her into a life of luxury the question is just why?

Characters: Vincent De Garmont, The Marquis, From John Wick 4.

Setting: This story is set in my own universe, so not exactly the John Wick universe.

Warnings: 18+, prejudice and stereotypical thinking about nationalities, mentions about sex, mentions about prostitution.

She was at The Louvre. She would go to an event at The Louvre. Ines looked at the impressive glass pyramid outside of the museum with Vincent next to her. The car had just dropped them off and she wasn't prepared for the event being at the world’s most famous art museum. Christ, the Mona Lisa was hanging there!

She looked around with big eyes while Vincent showed their invitation for the guard. There were rich, well dressed people everywhere. The men in formal wear and the women in sleek dresses, showing off stereotypical Parisian curves, in other words, not many curves at all. Even if Ines was dressed up she felt like a stain on white silk. All the women looked perfect in high heels and smooth hair but it was also one more detail that stood out. All of them wore masks, extravagant masks fitting for a masquerade party in the 1800th century.

She had known she wouldn't fit in but had believed she would feel more okay with it but now didn't feel as sure. Without saying anything the Marquis took her hand and pulled her into a corner, hidden by a pillar. Ines looked at him curiously while he stretched out his hand. In it was a red mask, decorated with rhinestones in a similar color.

“I thought you would have a red dress,” he said, not as an excuse, more as it was just annoying facts. Ines looked at the mask.

“Will everyone have these sort of masks? Is it a orgy party or something?” She asked while putting the mask against her face. Vincent didn't say anything, just put on his own extravagant mask in black but with peacock feathers and gold glitter.

“Why is your mask so much prettier than mine?” Whined Ines and looked at her own mask again.

“Because I let a designer do it. I didn't have time to get one for you. I didn't know I would have a date for the night.”

Ines looked up at him from her mask, meeting his green eyes surrounded by the colorful feathers.

“Date?” Said Ines as a reflex.

“Yes. They call a guest a date in the invitation so you're my date.”

The Marquis didn’t give away any emotions so Ines accepted his answer.

“Should I help you with that one?” He nodded towards her mask and Ines took up it towards her face again. Vincent walked around her to tie it around her head, making a perfect bow with the red ribbon but it wasn't anything Ines noticed, how he put energy to make it completely symmetrical.

“When we are inside I will let you mingle,” said Vincent bluntly and fixed his cufflinks.

“Okay,” said Ines with a nod, she knew how to mingle.

“And I will be… around,” continued Vincent. Ines looked up at him with furrowed brows.

“Around? You mean we will not go together?”

“I promise you, having a tall, handsome, well dressed man like me by your side will not make rich men talk to you. It's better if you mingle alone, tell them about your painting… Maybe you can flirt a little?” He said the last part carefully, like he had encouraged her to prostitution. Ines smirked and looked down on her feet. It was noticeable he hadn't understood how her Friday nights used to look. She was an expert at flirting, how else would you get free stuff?

“Okay. That's fine. But can I call if there is something?”

Vincent looked down at her again and as a symbolic gesture he opened his jacket, showing off his phone in the inner pocket, but also a gun sticking up from the waistband of his suit pants.

“I will answer.”

×××

It came natural for Ines to mingle around with people and even if she was nervous at first, walking around among all the rich fine people she relaxed quickly. Behind the mask she could be someone else and instead feeling like the stupid American girl, she felt exotic and sexy. There were many curious eyes on her.

She told people about her painting, flirted and received business cards. She felt pleased with herself when she called Vincent. She hadn't seen him all night but if she was honest, when she was her flirty self he would just be in the way.

“Already done? Someone interested?” He said calmly. Ines stood in a corner outside the ladies restroom talking with The Marquis on the phone. She was a little tipsy on champagne and leaned against the wall. She couldn't understand how these rich people could drink so much without seeming affected.

“I have twelve business cards…” she said, pleased. Vincent cleared his throat.

“Mhm.”

“What? Isn't that good?” Ines said disappointed.

“No it's good…” The Marquis sounded weirdly detached and Ines felt the nerves come up again.

“Can we meet where the car dropped us off?” He asked.

“So we should leave now? I really thought it would be an orgy,” she joked but didn't get a reaction from Vincent.

“Just meet me, now.”

Ines had a weird feeling while walking out to Vincent. There was something that felt off. It was everything from his mood, the gun but also the fact she hadn't seen him all night. It felt like he was hiding something.

He stood by the black car without his mask, Ines took off hers too and walked up to him with quick steps. He looked irritated, with pursed lips and his hands deep in his pockets.

“Are you seriously irritated with me for something? I just did what you told me to do!” She said annoyed and crossed her arms. Vincent looked her up and down and she could see his hands move in his pants pockets. He cleared his throat and seemed to examine her face.

“Just let’s go home…” he muttered and opened the door for her. Ines rolled her eyes and jumped in. It felt like she could never do anything right. It had felt so promising in the beginning of the night.

In the hotel she walked to her room and pulled off the uncomfortable dress and put on a big t-shirt. She was ready to go to bed. She had nothing to do, no good company and was also tired by all the champagne she had been drinking but when she had just crawled down under the cover a light knock could be heard against her door.

“Come in,” she said just so Vincent would understand he could actually open the door and walk in and he did. He wore just his slacks and the suit shirt, his suspenders hanging on his hips. He had a glass in his hand and looked at her softly.

“I'm sorry for my bad mood…”

“Did I do something wrong?” Asked Ines carefully and played with the cover.

“No, no… It was just something else…” he said with a sigh. To Ines surprise he suddenly sat down on the side of her bed and placed his glass on her night stand. They weren't even three feet from each other. If she leaned forward she would have been able to look down his shirt, see his smooth chest but Vincent's usually proper manner made her feel weird about it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She said softly. Maybe he had things he needed to talk with a friend about but didn't have any friends? He gave her a look. He looked intoxicated and she wondered what the amber liquid in his glass was. The Marquis licked his lips and with some hesitation he leaned towards her and kissed her lips softly. Ines had seen it happen, his smooth but doubtful movement and felt her pulse go up at once. He actually kissed her. His lips were soft and plump and he tasted strong of the spirit. He opened his eyes slowly, they were obviously affected by alcohol but maybe something more. Ines couldn't tell.

“Do it again…” she whispered. Vincent laid his hand on her neck and with his thumb on her jugular, he pushed her face up towards his. He kissed her again, more determined this time and it made Ines moan into his mouth. He continued kissing her and a sneaky tongue pushed in between her lips. Even if she got exactly what she had wanted she wasn't pleased and stood up on her knees to be able to deepen their kisses even more. She moved his hand down from her neck to her waist where the thin cotton t-shirt was the only barrier between his hand and her naked body. With a hard grip around her waist he pulled her close to his body and leaned back on his elbow. The kisses heated fast and his hand moved up so his thumb dragged on the underside of her breast. To be close to Vincent was too amazing and Ines couldn't stop the giggle from jumping out from her full lips.

“And you said you weren't interested at all…” she teased and looked at Vincent's intoxicated eyes. For a moment she thought he would smile but it turned to a painful grimace and he shoved her away softly but determinedly.

“Of course you were forced to talk…” he muttered and stood up. Ines looked at him confused but it turned to anger fast.

“What do you mean with that? What? You come into my room and push your tongue into my mouth but think I should just be quiet??” She said upset and got a hard gaze from Vincent back. He snatched up his glass from the night stand and then turned to the door.

“Forget this happened.”

He chugged the last of the spirit in his glass and put it down on the stand again before walking to the door.

“C'est juste une jolie fille… Ne détruis pas tout pour une chatte…”

He muttered for himself. Ines looked at him upset, she was sure he had said something bad about her and without thinking she threw a pillow in his head. His perfect hair got ruined by his neck and he stopped in his steps.

“Did you just throw a pillow in my head?” He said through his teeth and turned around slowly. Ines felt a knot in her stomach when she saw his killer look. This was not the man she had been with this last week.

“No?” she swallowed hard and sank down on the mattress.

The Marquis stood and looked at her with dark eyes before walking up to her slowly. Ines felt panic spread in her body, would he hit her?

“Up!” He exclaimed when he stood by the bed. Ines looked down at the cover and swallowed hard but then did as he said. She was too afraid to find out what would happen if she didn't do what he said. She stood just in front of him. Even if she wasn't that short she felt tiny when she stood in front of him. He had his arms crossed and she could see the veins trying to push out from his skin.

“I should… Punish you for your behavior… But…” he threw his head back and groaned loudly. In a fast movement he attacked her lips with his, so hard it felt like she would fall. Ines just kissed back with a beating heart. She let her emotions guide her now and just let it happen. Her otherwise questioning self would have asked what he actually wanted but his kisses were too passionate to stop just to ask such a question.

Vincent sat down on the bed and with a hand on the back of her thigh he prompted her to straddle his lap. She just followed his directions and let herself disappear into his bubble where it tasted like spirits and spearmint and smelled like floral perfume and vanilla. She was used to men smelling bad or wearing too strong cologne but he smelled of the scents she herself liked.

Vincent threaded his fingers through her hair and with a light pull he got her to lean back.

“Yes I am interested. Okay? But I can't be. I can't. So now you must help me end this. Prove I can trust you,” he said slowly, like he explained something to a child.

Ines leaned back even more and looked between his eyes. She didn't understand but also knew she never would. Vincent let her go and doubtfully she stood up and let him do the same.

Vincent cleared his throat, fixed his hair and his clothes. It looked like he thought he could get back into his hard shell just by fixing his appearance but Ines looked at him differently now. There was something softer, more insecure behind his hard exterior. He wasn't as well polished as he tried to seem.

Vincent walked to the door and turned around and looked at her with big eyes.

“Good night.”

“Good night…” she answered while playing with her fingers in front of her. She wished he could stay, sleep close to her and maybe show more of his soft self but he had asked her to keep away and she would respect that. It was obviously important for him, even if she couldn't understand what a make out session with her would harm.

×××

The next morning Ines did everything to be ready to meet Vincent again. He had visited her dreams that night, with naked skin, soft kisses and an open heart. It felt like her own heart was trying to escape when she woke up with a sweaty neck and another moisture between her legs. She wanted him so badly and she needed to find out why he couldn't just let her come close.

She did her make up to perfection, in that natural, modest way he seemed to like and then looked through the clothes he had got her. She had a tight pencil skirt and a lavender colored silky blouse. It would do, even if it would have been a better outfit with heels. She left her feet bare just like he always did and tippy toed out from her bedroom. The big window in the room connecting all of the suite’s rooms welcomed her out with bright sunlight and she felt it gave her power to try to come close to Vincent, talk to him in a real, intimate way. She looked around in the suite but realized quickly that it was empty. He wasn't there. Ines looked in through the doorframe to his bedroom where the bed already was made and none of his things were on show. She thought for a second that he maybe had left her but knew he wouldn't. She knew him that well now, he wouldn't just leave.

She accepted that he once again had left and ordered up some breakfast. She didn't have a problem activating herself either and planned to go to the library and flirt with European tourists in hotel bars. Just because she wanted The Marquis she could still entertain herself. By lunch she left the suite to take the elevator down. She could see the other guard standing outside of the room they had the painting in, otherwise the corridor was empty.

“Excuse me, do you know where Vin… The Marquis is?” She asked him out of curiosity. He looked at her with a weird look before answering.

“Juste derrière toi.”

Ines looked at him confused but also a bit annoyed, if he could understand her, he must be able to speak English?

“Right behind you, he said.”

It was Vincent's voice, just behind her and that made her jump. As a reflex she turned around and hit his chest.

“Don't scare me like that!”

Vincent looked between her face and the spot she had hit with furrowed brows.

“Sorry, just a reflex,” she said, embarrassed and looked at him with blushing cheeks. She looked at him up and down where he stood in his camel colored three piece suit and perfect hair. He was so beautiful and the burgundy colored shirt made his green eyes pop. Vincent nodded a little and turned to the door to the suite. Ines didn't react to him being alone because she just admired his looks. The full lips, high cheekbones, his jaw… But what was that? Something red was smeared on his jawline and her heart stopped because it looked like the perfect shade of red lipstick but it wasn't lipstick. It was blood.

“Is that blood?” She walked closer to see better and Vincent gave her a wide eyed look. He looked stressed for a moment before he looked away.

“Where?” He dragged his hand over his neck.

“Here, let me,” she said and wet her thumb with her tongue before trying to rub the spot away.

“It's from a close shave, right?” She said with a smile and looked deep in his eyes. Vincent looked back at her, letting her wipe away the blood with her saliva. They look deeply in each other's eyes, much deeper than they had before. Something happened right then and there between them none of them had expected. Ines understood it wasn't his blood, Vincent's could see she didn't care whose blood it was. He nodded as an answer to her question even if the answer didn't matter.

Ines sucked her thumb clean while Vincent looked at her with big eyes. He cleared his throat awkwardly before taking her hand in his and opening the door to the suite.

“I met a person interested in your painting…” he said softly while leading her in through the door. Ines felt her pulse go up from his warm hand but also the memory of him watching her suck her thumb. She knew he was up to no good but she didn't care. He was a bad man, just like Faith had said but she had never cared about that.

×