#vintage workout clothes
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The 1990s Print Padded Sports Bra for Women is a nostalgic blend of style and comfort, perfect for active lifestyles. Made with soft, breathable fabric, this sports bra offers excellent support with its padded design, allowing you to move freely during workouts. The vibrant prints echo the bold styles of the 1990s, making it a fashionable choice for both sports and casual wear. Embrace retro vibes with the 1990s Print Padded Sports Bra for Women and elevate your activewear collection today!
#1990s fashion#women's sports bras#padded bras#retro sportswear#athletic tops for women#vintage workout clothes#90s style lingerie#comfortable bras#ladies sports tops#nostalgic activewear
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Calisthenics ensemble, ca. 1865
#reddit#artefactporn#mysterious_sorcery#calisthenics#excerise#work out#ensemble#clothing#fashion#history#vintage#antique#new years resolution#new years goals#outfit#womens history#1865#1860s#1800s#victorian#teal#green#slippers#workout gear#something jane fonda would have worn in an alternate timeline#fitness
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Street sporty casual chic green minimal designer deep V sleeveless slim crop top vest.
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Rekino
Unicore
IG
#clothingforsale#shop#style#fashion#for sale#vintage#retro#clothing#womenswear#women's fashion#vest#t-shirt#sleeveless t-shirt#casual chic#casualwear#casual#sporty wear#sporty chic#sportystyle#sporty fashion#workout clothes#outfit#chic#streetwear#high fashion#minimal
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Women’s Fashion Heavy Workers Fish Beaded Dress
Product information:
Material:polyester fiber
Style:Fashion minimalist
Features:Solid color
Colour:Blue
#plus size vintage clothing#wholesale vintage clothing#wholesale clothing los angeles#wholesale workout clothes
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Fashion 2 Figure Style Secrets for Women of All Ages
Read and adapt timeless fashion 2-figure tips that flatter every woman's figure, regardless of age. From elegant silhouettes that enhance curves to smart layering techniques, this guide offers versatile and chic styling secrets. Check it out Now!
#fashion#clothing#women#beautiful model#blog#accessories#street style#style#usa#vintage style#fashion2figure#fashion 2024#popular#fitness#gym#exercise#workout#so hot 🔥🔥🔥#beautiful#gorgeous#legs#beauty
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do you think there's an objective measurement for 'moisture wicking'? because polyester fabrics be making some claims
#wool wicks moisture because it's hair that's its job#cotton absorbs moisture but then stays feeling wet#i don't have experience with good linen but allegedly it wicks well#i've had many many poly or spandex clothes which just stay so stuffy sweaty gross#tho i have had the odd workout shirt that's all polyester and it seems to wick pretty well#so i think maybe it has to be a property of the weave/knit rather than the physical fiber bc girl that's litchrally plastic#also my vintage nylon parachute pants are not the most breathable but they dry soso quick which is great#please respond with more information about your experiences
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When Love is Left Unspoken pt. 2 (MV)
max verstappen x reader
pt. 1 here
I could be talked into a pt. 3 if people want it
It had been a week since the Austin GP and forgetting about what happened had been impossible mostly because Max would not leave you alone.
He didn't reach out directly, but every morning this week, you had woken up to a new gift outside your door. Flowers, chocolate, coffee, pastries, clothing, etc. You had no idea how he even knew your address.
You struggled with what to do. On one hand, you had missed your best friend for a long time. You missed the inside jokes, the comfort you found in him, and supporting one another. But on the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about how he threw it all away because he was scared of loving you. You had never been scared of loving him, even if you never said. Well maybe that was hypocritical.
Saturday morning an envelope accompanied the box outside of your door. You opened the box first, revealing a vintage RedBull racing bomber jacket that cost who knows how much. It was cute, you'd give it that. Opening the envelope you froze as you read the letter that sat next to a paddock pass for the Brazil GP.
I know you hate me and you have a good reason to but I will do anything to have you back by my side even if you refuse to look at me. Please come to Brazil, I know it's your favorite track. You can stay on Checo's side of the garage if it makes you feel better.
Love, Your Max
Brazil was your favorite track and in the past you had always travelled down early to experience the culture for a bit before the racing started.
You facetimed Carmen, hoping to talk this through with someone else.
"Hey girl, what's up?" She asked, clearly in the middle of a workout.
"Oh, I can call later if you're busy," you said and she shook her head.
"No, it's okay!"
"Max invited me to the Brazilian GP," you told her slowly and her eyes widened.
"Wow."
"I know, I don't know what to do."
Carmen was silent for a little bit, clearly thinking. "Is there any part of you that wants to make up with him?"
"Yes," you admitted quietly. "But I hate myself for even thinking that. I don't want to just forget about everything that happened and take him back with open arms."
"I don't think you necessarily have to forget what happened but maybe focus on the people you both have grown to be in these last few years. Maybe treat it like you are starting over."
"So you think I should go?"
"Selfishly yes of course," she said grinning and you couldn't help but smile back. "You don't even have to spend time with him. Just see how it feels to be around him."
After hanging up with Carmen, you texted the number Max had given you for his assistant in order to get flights and a hotel figured out.
-----------------------------------
You landed in Brazil on media day and didn't plan on going to the track until Saturday. Max was pulling out all the stops even when he couldn't see you as evidenced by the ridiculously nice hotel he put you in. The view was amazing and laying on the bed was a variety of your favorite snacks and drinks with a card that read "I'm so glad you're here -your Max."
The 'Your Max' thing was working even though you hated to admit it. You spent the next two days traveling around the city by yourself and then with Carmen.
Saturday rolled around and you found yourself nervous to be at the paddock despite Carmen's constant reassurances. You hadn't seen Max yet and you weren't really sure what to say when you did.
Funny enough, the first person you ran into when you made it to the RedBull garage was Christian Horner.
"Y/n!" He said surprised to see you. "It's been a while, how are you? You know my wife is obsessed with your tik tok channel."
"Ahh tell her I said thank you," you replied kindly. "I've been doing well."
"We're glad to have you back," he said and your heart swelled. "It's been a rough year for him."
"I'm not sure I can change that," you said politely and he gave you a look.
"You just being here might," he commented before leaving you to go talk with the mechanics. You wandered around the garage, catching up with a lot of people you hadn't seen in a long time.
Max spotted you as he was coming out of his drivers' room and his heart stopped. Of course he knew you were in Brazil, but he still wasn't 100% sure you'd show up. He didn't think he should approach you so he just lingered by watching you. You felt him watching you and looked over at him, trying to control your breathing and gave him a small smile.
He smiled back before being called off to get ready for the sprint. Leaning against the back wall you pulled your headphones and settled in to watch. Max was doing pretty good, battling with Charles for most of the race. Your face appeared on the broadcast and you smiled to the camera, giving it a small wave.
After the race you checked your phone to see that you'd been tagged in countless tweets.
@.username12312: Was that y/n y/l/n in the RedBull garage? I thought her and Max had a falling out???
reply to @.usernam12312 @.user345: Yeah they haven't been friends for a long time. It had something to do with Kelly
reply to @.user345 @.username12312: oh yeah, you're right! I always liked y/n better anyways
You were amused reading the speculation and decided to stir the pot further. While Max was doing interviews you found Checo in the garage and asked him to take a picture with you. The confused man agreed and you quickly posted it to your Instagram story with the caption: My favorite RedBull driver, good luck tomorrow!
Carmen and Lily both slid up with laughing emojis and you walked back to Max's side, trying to avoid the rain. It was really coming down now and you weren't sure if they would even be able to go out on the track. You found Max a little while later sitting against the wall, legs sprawled out in front of him. You sunk down next to him, holding your knees into your chest.
"Think you'll be able to go out there today?" You asked casually and he looked over at you, clearly excited to hear you speaking to him.
"I would say probably not," he replied. "Maybe tomorrow morning."
"How much longer until we know?"
"Another half hour would be my guess," he said. "I can call for someone to take you back if you want to leave now?"
"No, I'll wait," you said looking down at your phone. You sat in silence for a while and the rain was starting to make you very sleepy. Losing the battle with yourself, you rested your head on Max's shoulder and he stiffened.
Max smiled to himself as you dozed off and the two of you caught the attention of the cameras, the photo soon to be splashed everywhere online. Quali was called off and Max nudged you awake, reaching out to help you up.
"Ride with me back?" He asked hopeful and you nodded. You ran into George and Carmen on the way out and she gave you a knowing look to which you rolled your eyes at.
"You guys should come out to dinner with us," George said. "We're meeting up with Alex and Lily too."
You hesitated, not wanting to miss out but at the same time your social battery was dead. You could only handle so much social interaction before you were craving your warm bed to snuggle into. You started to give in and agree but Max cut you off.
"I think y/n is done being around people for the day so I'm going to take her back."
You looked at him surprised and the realization that he still knew you so well just added more fire to the internal turmoil you were facing. Bidding them goodbye, you followed Max out of the paddock and into the car he had rented for the weekend. The car ride was silent as well as the elevator ride up to your floor.
Max followed close behind you as you made your way to your room and it was starting to irritate you.
"You don't need to walk me to my room Max," you said and he looked at your sheepishly.
"I'm in the one right next to you."
"Are you fucking serious?" You asked frustrated. "I need space Max!"
"I just want you to be safe," he defended and you rolled your eyes.
"From what?" You exclaimed. "Oh yeah, your girlfriend I mean ex-girlfriend is from here. Think she's sending people after me?"
"I don't think that's funny," he said, eyes darkening. "Sue me for wanting you close to me. I'm not going to apologize for that."
"You are the worst," you bit out before shoving into your room, slamming the door.
---------------------------------------
Stepping out of the steaming shower and back into the bedroom you glanced worriedly out the window. You wouldn't necessarily say that you had a fear of thunderstorms but they tended to make you uneasy.
Trying to distract yourself you put on South Park, your favorite show to watch in a hotel, but it didn't work. After a couple of booms you were still on edge. Sighing you got up and left your room, hoping a small walk around the hotel would ease your mind. By the time you made it back, Max was leaning against the wall by your door, waiting for you.
"Can't sleep?" He asked and you nodded.
"The storms."
"You always were scared of them," he teased and you scoffed.
"I'm not scared of them!" Right as you said that, a streak of lighting flashed by the hallway's window followed by a loud crash of thunder. You jumped a little and Max smirked.
"Come on," he said gesturing back to his room. You hesitated and he sighed. "We both know you won't fall asleep alone to this."
Giving in, you followed him into his room. It was a carbon copy of yours and you were amused to see South Park playing on his tv. He climbed into his bed but you stopped short; the scene in front of you reminded you of so many times before. When you traveled with him back in the day you'd often find yourself in his room at night hanging out. You always fell asleep and woke up in his arms, neither of you ever saying anything about it.
Max sat up in the bed looking at you, he knew what you were thinking.
"Y/n," he said softly as he watched you wipe a tear from your eye.
"This is so hard Max," you said, voice breaking. "How am I supposed to just forget?"
"I don't know," he confessed. "I'm sorry."
"It's not even like you broke my heart that day," you said meeting his eyes. "You had chipped away at it for so long that there wasn't even anything left to break."
Max's heart dropped and he moved over closer to where you were standing, so that you were now eye level.
"I was so scared back then y/n," he said and you put your head into your hands. "So scared of failing that I did things I shouldn't have done, like pushing you away to protect myself."
"Protect yourself from what?" You said, looking back at him.
"Your unconditional love," he said sadly and you tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath.
"You acted like nothing happened, I watched you move on with your life," you accused, whispering to him.
"I did not move on, I was a mess. I couldn't eat or sleep for months and I latched on to you in whatever way I could through your videos or podcast. Every picture or video you saw of me was strictly PR."
"But you never reached out, not once in these past few years," you said, starting to grow angry with him.
"Neither did you!" He exclaimed.
"That's not fair Max," you retorted, moving away from him.
"Isn't it though? You accused me of moving on but I watched you do the same. I watched your popularity grow, watched you start to travel around the world, watched you post with other guys. You didn't need me to be happy."
"I needed my best friend!" You yelled and he flinched. "I needed you to be there to call when I got a new deal! I needed you to be there to lean on when I had self doubt! You ruined everything Max. I could never be truly happy celebrating something because in the back of my mind I was thinking about how you should have been there with me!"
Max squeezed his eyes shut, sitting down on the bed.
"I don't know how to fix this schatje," he whispered and you flinched at the term of endearment. "Everything has been so dark for so long. I am okay with you hating me forever. Because even if you just look at me, it'll be a better day than what I've had."
Sniffling, you stared into his red rimmed eyes. "I want to forget about you so badly Max but I can't."
He smiled softly at you before patting the bed.
"Please sleep here tonight, it will make me feel so much better knowing you were well rested. I'll sleep on the pull out couch," he said standing up.
"Just sleep in the bed with me," you said sighing, wiping the tears from your face before climbing into the bed. Max slid in next to you, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you and you drifted off to sleep.
The sound of his alarm woke you up at 4:30 and you groaned sleepily. Max's arms were wrapped tightly around you, his head buried in your hair as he refused to open his eyes.
"Max, you have to wake up," you said and he mumbled incoherently into you. You pried his hands off your body and stood up, stretching. He watched you lazily from the bed, wondering if this was a dream.
"I'm going to go get ready and then I'll meet you back in the hallway in 30 minutes okay?" You asked him and he nodded. Leaving his room you headed back into yours to get ready for the day. Your eyes were still a little swollen from last night but that was nothing a little makeup couldn't fix.
Pairing the new RedBull jacket with a black jeans you gathered all your stuff before texting Carmen about what had happened last night. All she responded was that we would discuss it in person and sent a winky face.
Max looked more awake standing out in the hallway and you both left for the track.
Qualifying was a mess to put it simply. Crash after crash after crash. It was spiking your anxiety to watch and you were just praying that Max would make it out unscathed. He did make it without crashing, but not without controversy.
You grew furious as you watched everyone in Q2 get to finish their laps following Lance's crash except for Max and Esteban. This made him miss out on Q3 for the first time in forever. You knew he was pissed when he got out of the car and his eyes met yours for a brief second. He talked to his engineers before grabbing your hand to drag you with him to over where he had to do interviews.
Standing behind the reporter you watched him try to contain his anger.
“If a guy goes straight into the wall, it is a straight red,” he said. “I don't understand why you need to take 30, 40 seconds for a red flag to come out...”
His voice was rising as he said it and both you and the reporter braced for the impact of whatever he was going to say next. He started to say something but then looked over at you and stopped himself, taking a deep breath before waving off the question.
“I don’t care in all honesty, it is so stupid to talk about. It’s ridiculous.”
He answered a couple more questions about the race happening later and you waited patiently. Christian came to join you and gave you a knowing look.
"I told you that being here would make things better," he said with a glint in his eyes. "I'm giving you credit for him avoiding more community service."
Things got even better after that with Max winning the Grand Prix in what you could only describe as a complete masterclass.
As the celebrations wrapped up, you and Max found yourselves alone in the quiet of the garage, both still processing the day's whirlwind. He glanced at you, a hesitant warmth in his gaze.
Max reached for your hand, gently holding it, as if afraid you'd slip away again. "I'm glad you came, I've needed you here for a long time."
"I'm still not sure where we stand Max," you said unsure of how to deal with what you were feeling.
"As long as your standing next to me, I'll be okay," he said cheekily and you smiled. You knew that your relationship had a long way to go but maybe, just maybe, it was finally starting again.
pt. 3
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Stains {Part One}
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Part One
{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} One spilled coffee, one ruined suit, and one infuriating man you can’t seem to avoid...
♡♡ Uh oh I wrote another series! Inspired by the many requests I get for another enemies to lovers fic ~ This is essentially a highly caffeinated version of Misbehavior ~xoxo ♡♡
3.7k words - Warnings: slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, eventual smut (duh), Elijah being Elijah about his suits, reader with a sharp tongue and a penchant for swearing, so so so much antagonistic banter, class dynamics, Elijah being a control freak (it’s his kink) && the tragic loss of a cappuccino...
{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}
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It was one of those mornings where everything felt hazy, like your body was running on autopilot while your brain lagged behind. You were going through the motions, getting ready for work, but it all felt distant.
Finally, as you stood in line at the local café, you began to wake up fully. Glancing at your phone, you checked the time. You were cutting it close, but if you hurried, you could still make it.
When it was your turn, you stepped up to the counter and ordered your usual. While waiting, you observed the morning rush: people in business suits, jeans, or workout gear shuffled in and out, the chaos oddly comforting. You tried to keep your irritation in check as a few impatient customers jostled their way ahead of you.
At last, you grabbed your cappuccino and headed out the door, your eyes flicking to the clock on your phone again. Damn, you were going to be late.
You picked up your pace, speed-walking down the sidewalk. Cursing under your breath, you glanced back down at your phone… just as you collided with someone.
Hot liquid splashed everywhere, soaking through your shirt and bra. You hissed in pain, looking up to find the man you'd crashed into. His suit jacket and dress shirt were also drenched in coffee.
He glared at you, his dark eyes murderous. He didn't say a word as he yanked off his jacket and attempted to blot at the stain, which only seemed to spread.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurted, fumbling to pull out your wallet. “Here, let me pay for your dry cleaning. I’m really sorry.”
You went to pull out some cash, but he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Dry cleaning? No. You will pay for a replacement," he said with cold disdain.
His attitude pissed you off. He was just as much at fault as you were, yet he had this entitled, pretentious air about him that made your blood boil.
“It’s just coffee. It’ll come out with the right cleaner,” you said, trying to keep the bite out of your voice.
“It’s a custom-tailored vintage Italian wool suit. Do you have any idea how much it costs?” he asked, his jaw ticking as he glared at you.
“Well, maybe you should pay more attention to where you’re walking if you’re going to parade around in such expensive clothes,” you snapped, your temper slipping.
“Are you seriously standing there, telling me this is my fault?” he asked, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.
“Yup. Because it is,” you shot back, crossing your arms as you met his icy gaze. “I’m not about to buy you a thousand-dollar suit when dry cleaning can fix it.”
“A thousand?” he repeated, laughing, and to your surprise, the sound was annoyingly pleasant. “This is a Brioni, not some off-the-rack garbage from Nordstrom. And I expect full payment. Interest included.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you snapped, throwing up your hands in frustration. Turning on your heel, you stomped away, your blood still boiling.
You had no idea what a Brioni was, and frankly, you didn’t care. He wasn’t going to bully you into paying for a ridiculously overpriced suit. You couldn’t even afford the cheap ones. And besides, what was he going to do? He didn’t even know who you were.
You didn’t hear his footsteps behind you, but suddenly, he was in front of you, blocking your path.
“I’m not done talking to you,” he said, his tone cutting through the air like ice.
“Yeah, well, I’m done talking to you. Get the hell out of my way,” you snapped, trying to sidestep him.
His hand shot out, grabbing your arm and holding you in place. You were about to slap him when his free hand darted into your pocket, pulling out your wallet.
“Hey! What the fuck?” you yelled, trying to snatch it back.
Ignoring you, he opened it and rifled through your cards and cash with infuriating calmness. He pulled out your driver’s license, glancing at it, and you could have sworn he smirked.
“So, Miss L/N, I’ll be in touch. And perhaps you should pay attention to where you’re walking. You never know who you might bump into,” he said, his voice full of smug amusement as he slipped your wallet back into your pocket.
Before you could respond, he turned and strode off down the street, leaving you standing there, fuming.
You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen, willing yourself not to think about the events from earlier. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind kept circling back. You couldn’t believe his fucking audacity.
The way he’d just grabbed your wallet out of your pocket… like it was nothing, and then had the nerve to smirk at you. The memory made your blood boil all over again. You were livid.
It was obvious he was wealthy, the kind of man who was used to getting whatever he wanted. But you weren’t about to be bullied by some rich asshole. You couldn't stand people like him, entitled, out of touch assholes.
But… lord, was he hot.
Your thoughts betrayed you, conjuring up his sharp cheekbones, chiseled jaw, and those dark brown eyes that seemed to smolder even when he was furious. He exuded danger. The kind that drew you in, whether you wanted it to or not.
For a moment, your mind wandered, imagining what it would feel like to run your hands through his hair, tugging at it as he…
No. No.
You shook your head, physically trying to jolt yourself back to reality. You weren’t about to let your thoughts go there. He didn’t deserve a second more of your time.
After work, you were exhausted, and all you wanted was to curl up on the couch and watch something mindless. As you walked down the hall to your apartment, the sight of an envelope sticking out of the door made you frown.
You approached it slowly, pulling it from the door and turning it over.
The handwriting on the front was neat and tidy. The letter itself was a single piece of paper, folded in half. Your name was scrawled on the front.
Hesitating, you unlocked the door and walked into your apartment. It was small, barely enough space for you, but it was the only place you could afford.
Closing the door behind you, you opened the letter.
Miss L/N, I trust you found this note where I left it. Please see the enclosed invoice for the cost of replacing my suit. If I do not receive a response within five business days, I will have no choice but to involve my lawyers. Sincerely, Elijah Mikaelson
There was a paper inside, folded in half. Pulling it out, you found the bill:
Invoice: Total cost of suit and emotional damages: $20,325.00
What the fuck?
The number at the bottom made you want to vomit. How the fuck could a suit cost that much?
There was no way in hell you could come up with that kind of money. If he tried to sue you there was no way you would be able to pay it.
Fuck. Fuck.
You stared down at the invoice, panic starting to build. His phone number was listed at the top, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you dialed the number, your heart hammering in your chest.
After two rings, a deep, infuriatingly familiar voice answered.
"Miss L/N, I was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten my note," he said, sounding amused.
"You can't be serious. That suit cannot cost that much," you snapped, trying and failing to keep the fear out of your voice.
"As a matter of fact, it can. You should feel lucky I'm not asking for more, considering the insult to my character. Or do I need to remind you of how you behaved?" he asked, his tone dripping with arrogance.
"How much emotional damage could a spilled cup of coffee possibly cause?" you scoffed, unable to stop yourself. "I'm not paying that. No way."
"Well, unfortunately, the suit is ruined. My dry cleaner tried his best, but it was simply too late," he said, his words clipped and precise. "Now, we can settle this between us. Or I can call my lawyer, and the two of us can hash out a deal in court."
"What the hell do you want from me?" you asked, unable to keep the anger and hurt out of your voice. "You think I have a couple grand lying around? I can't even afford my rent, much less a suit that's worth more than I'll make in the next year!"
"Then I suggest you get a better job," he replied, his tone dismissive. "I have no interest in playing games with you. Either pay what you owe, or face the consequences."
"Go fuck yourself," you hissed, hanging up and slamming the phone down on the table.
He couldn't be serious. There was no way. He was a sadist, clearly. Just an entitled, privileged prick, and you had no doubt he would go through with his threat.
Your phone started to ring, and you glared at it, tempted to ignore it. But you knew that would only make things worse.
With a sigh, you picked up the phone, answering it and pressing it to your ear. "What?"
"Well, that was rude," he said, his voice cold.
"Yeah, well, so is threatening me," you shot back.
"You're being unreasonable," he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. "We can settle this like adults. If you can't afford the suit, perhaps there's another way we can work out our differences."
"If you're trying to blackmail me into having sex with you, fuck off. I'm not a hooker," you snapped.
He laughed, and the sound made you shiver, even as it enraged you. "Hardly darling, I don't pay for sex,"
"Then what the fuck do you want?" you asked, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.
"An apology," he said, and there was something dangerous in his voice, a hint of a threat.
"Fine," you said, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Now, leave me the hell alone."
"No, I want an apology in person, perhaps over dinner. After all, we never had a chance to get properly acquainted," he said, his voice smooth.
"That wasn't part of the deal," you hissed. "You said an apology, not a date."
"Are you trying to negotiate terms with me?" he asked, his tone amused. "Because I'm not sure that's wise. After all, if we go to court, I'll win. I have excellent lawyers."
"Are you seriously going to sue me over a stupid suit?" you asked, the anger in your voice fading, replaced by fear.
"That depends. Are you going to refuse my request?" he asked, his voice soft, yet firm.
You hesitated, weighing your options. On one hand, you could try to stand up to him. But there was no doubt in your mind that you would lose a court battle… you did damage his suit after all.
"Fine," you said, the word leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.
"Excellent. I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven," he said, sounding satisfied.
Before you could respond, the line went dead.
You stared at your phone, furious. This wasn’t an apology; it was a trap. But what choice did you have? You’d give him his stupid apology…and then, hopefully, you’d never have to see him again.
At first you decided you were just going to wear a sweatshirt and leggings. Let him deal with it. You weren’t about to put the effort in. But a small voice inside told you that it would only make things worse. Besides, if there was any chance this would be the last time you had to see him, maybe you should look good. Show him that you weren't some charity case.
With a sigh, you put on the nicest dress you had, a simple black shift. You spent some time doing your hair and makeup, and as you stared at yourself in the mirror, you felt a flicker of pride.
You could do this.
As you finished getting ready, you wondered if he was going to show up in another ridiculously expensive suit. Probably. It seemed like his entire identity was tied up in his clothing. A small, diabolical part of you considered ruining another one of his suits, just to spite him. But you dismissed the idea. It wasn't worth the cost.
Just as you finished slipping on your heels, the buzzer rang. Grabbing your purse, you headed down the stairs, taking a deep breath as you pulled open the front door.
There, waiting for you, was Elijah, looking infuriatingly handsome. He wasn't dressed in a suit this time, in fact what he was wearing was much less formal, and a lot sexier. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans, and a dark blue shirt, the top two buttons undone, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Was he aware of how ridiculously hot he was? Of course he knew... A man with all that wealth and confidence wouldn't have a doubt in his mind that women would fall at his feet.
"Hello, darling," he said, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he gazed down at you. "You look lovely."
"Don't," you said, holding up a finger and glaring at him. "I'm not your 'darling' and you don't get to call me that."
He chuckled, the sound making your skin prickle with heat. "Very well, shall we?"
He offered you his arm, and against your better judgement, you took it, allowing him to lead you to his car. You were surprised when he opened the passenger side door for you, but didn't comment, sliding into the seat.
"I expected you to be wearing another suit," you commented, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice. "After all, they're such a large part of your personality."
He looked over at you, his gaze moving down your body, taking in the curves of your breasts and hips, lingering on your legs.
"And I wasn't expecting a dress, but here we are," he said, his eyes meeting yours, the challenge in them clear.
"You're insufferable," you muttered, turning to look out the window, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
"I could say the same about you," he replied, his tone amused. "Though, I will admit, I admire your spirit."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" you asked, your brows furrowing.
"Yes, it is," he said, keeping his gaze on the road.
You scoffed, shaking your head. "Where are we going, anyway?"
"A little restaurant not far from here," he said, not elaborating further.
You were tempted to ask him more, but you didn't want to seem overly interested. You were still trying to figure out his motives, but you didn't want him to think he was winning.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence, and soon, he was pulling into a parking spot. He came around to open the door for you, and you ignored his hand, standing on your own.
You followed him into the restaurant, a quaint, homey place with dim lighting and candles on the tables. The waiter seated you, handing each of you a menu and taking your drink orders.
When he walked away, you turned your attention back to Elijah, studying his face in the low light. His features were strong, defined, and there was something oddly compelling about his eyes, the way they seemed to see right through you.
"So, what's your story?" you asked, breaking the silence. "What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a philanthropist," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "I invest in various causes, and also provide grants to those in need."
You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "Of course you are,"
"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked, a slight edge to his voice.
"You just scream old money, the kind of guy who's never had to work a day in his life, never had to struggle," you said, not bothering to mask the disdain in your voice.
He arched an eyebrow, his lips twitching up into a half-smile. "You're quite judgmental, aren't you?"
"Says the man who's trying to extort money from me," you retorted, your temper flaring.
"Sweetheart, you don't know anything about me or my struggles," he said, his tone deceptively calm. "I think it's best if you keep your opinions to yourself."
You glared at him, your jaw clenching. You wanted to fire back, tell him he was wrong, but a small, logical part of you warned against it.
"Fine," you muttered, crossing your arms. "I'm sorry...again."
"Apology accepted," he said, his expression smug.
Before you could respond, the waiter returned with your drinks.
"Are you two ready to order?" he asked, giving you both a polite smile.
"Yes, I'll have the steak," Elijah said, handing the menu back. "And she will have the pasta."
Your eyes narrowed at him. "No, actually, I'd like the salad,"
"Nonsense," he said, dismissing your objection with a wave of his hand. "Trust me, you'll like the pasta better."
The waiter nodded and collected your menus, leaving you alone once again.
"Did I say I wanted pasta?" you asked, irritated by his high-handedness.
"It's delicious, you'll see," he said, ignoring your question.
"So, is this how it's going to be all night? You making decisions for me, and me being pissed about it?" you asked, trying and failing to keep the frustration out of your voice.
He let out a soft chuckle, his dark eyes meeting yours. "Probably, yes."
You shook your head, biting back a scathing retort. Clearly, he enjoyed being an asshole. And you were determined not to give him the satisfaction of provoking you.
He was watching you closely, a smug smile on his lips. "So what do you do for work?"
"I'm a planning coordinator at a nonprofit," you said, your voice tight.
"That's interesting, what is the organization?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.
"It's an outreach program for the homeless, I manage all the paperwork and the grant applications, that kind of stuff," you said, shrugging.
"How noble," he murmured, his gaze assessing.
You weren't sure if he was being sincere or not, and the comment rubbed you the wrong way.
"It's just a job," you muttered, not wanting to admit that it was something that mattered deeply to you.
"That makes you very little money, apparently," he said, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
"Well, not everyone can be a rich philanthropist," you shot back, your temper flaring.
He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Fair point."
"Why are you really doing this?" you asked, unable to hold back the question.
"Doing what?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Blackmailing me into going on a date with you," you said, narrowing your eyes.
"You seem to have a lot of misconceptions about me," he said, his tone amused. "For starters, this isn't a date. It's an apology dinner."
You snorted, shaking your head. "Yeah, right. I've already apologized multiple times. Why did you really want to meet me?"
"You intrigue me," he said, his expression unreadable.
You were about to respond when the waiter returned, placing your meals in front of you.
"Here you go, enjoy," the waiter said, giving you a quick smile before heading off to another table.
You stared down at the pasta, it looked absolutely delicious, but you weren't about to admit that. You took a tentative bite, trying to hide your enjoyment, but it was no use. The pasta was amazing.
"Told you," he said, a knowing smile on his face.
"I'm not admitting anything," you muttered, taking another bite.
"Of course not," he said, his tone laced with amusement.
As you ate, you stole glances at him, trying to figure him out. He was a puzzle, that much was certain. But there was something dangerous lurking beneath the surface, a darkness that set your nerves on edge.
You were halfway through the meal when he spoke again.
"So, tell me more about yourself," he said, his dark eyes locking onto yours.
"What do you want to know?" you asked, keeping your voice casual.
"Anything," he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips.
You considered his question for a moment before responding. "I work, I go home, that's pretty much it."
He gave you a look, one that said he wasn't satisfied with your answer. "That's all? There must be more to you than that."
"Nope," you said, popping the 'p' for emphasis.
"I see," he said, his expression giving nothing away.
"What about you? I know you're a rich asshole who is obsessed with their clothing and extorts money from innocent people, but other than that, not much," you said, a hint of a smile on your lips.
"You think you have me all figured out, don't you?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.
"Pretty much, yeah," you said, shrugging.
He leaned forward, his gaze intense. "What would you say if I told you that I'm an ancient vampire who runs this city with my equally powerful and ruthless family?"
You couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, so you are crazy. Good to know."
He didn't respond, simply staring at you, his expression deadly serious.
You shook your head, finishing the last few bites of your meal. "Come on, really? Vampires? Don't insult my intelligence."
He smirked and shrugged, leaning back in his chair, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Fine, don't believe me."
The waiter returned with the check, and before you could object, Elijah paid, adding a generous tip.
"Ready to go?" he asked, standing and offering you his arm.
You wanted to refuse, to insist on paying for yourself, but the rational part of you knew that it would be futile. Besides, maybe he'd finally leave you alone after this.
"Sure," you muttered, taking his arm.
As he led you out of the restaurant, you couldn't help but notice how good he smelled, and how firm his muscles were under your hand. You hated yourself for it, but he was undeniably attractive.
"Are you done terrorizing me?" you asked, as you made your way towards the car. “Is my debt to you cleared?”
He chuckled, opening the passenger door and waiting for you to get in before responding. "The debt? Yes. Terrorizing you? Not even close.”
{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}
#elijah mikaelson#the originals#the vampire diaries#vampire diaries#tvdu#elijah mikaelson smut#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikealson imagine#elijah mikealson#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikealson x reader#tvd#the vampire diaries x you#the vampire diaries x reader#the vampire diares imagine#the vampire diaries imagine#the originals imagine#elijah mikealson smut
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peoples first impression of you
pick a picture
left to right(top)-> 1,2
left to right(bottom)-> 3,4
°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes. °Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as I would entirely appreciate it). ° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!
***IMAGES ARE NOT MINE***
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pile one-
people perceive the resilience that you give out, they are aware that you are not easy to mess with and you aren't as careless as they would have though you are. People often see you as closed off, most likely because of other worries of occurrences in life. You have this courage that is very noticeable and often people see that you are fearless. They see no weakness in you, you will approach life with full confidence and power. Sometimes, you can break your cool but its not because you are needy or arrogant, its because you cant stand unfairness, people notice your ambition to fix a problem especially when it is so obvious. Yeah, you have a very fixed presence and most people can be quite scared to mess up, this can be because of your facial expressions or you could be someone that is hard to impress especially with new people as you don't show your inner self to them yet. Yet you might be seen as someone gullible too. you also can be perceived as someone with their head up high and ignoring their surroundings. This can make it harder for someone to approach you as they see that you are someone who may not be in the mood to talk to people. you may struggle to trust your intuition and you may just take the leap without thinking much of it with the mindset of whatever happens- happens.
first that people notice: your physical health (you may workout or are in great physique), your beauty, your style of clothing (may be very put together and neat), your smile, your limbs.
your vibe to other people:
chic, modest, unbothered, chill, independent, cool, grounded, intellectual, business oriented, career opinionated, vintage, fashion
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pile two-
people may not necessarily notice you, this can be that you don't show yourself or you just prefer to observe from afar. Yeah, people notice how you isolate yourself so they rarely see you hence why others don't see you very much. This may also be that every time someone sees you, you may not have changed that much in terms of style, appearance or attitude which may leave them not have a new impression of you. people notice how you are stuck with old patterns. this may not be a bad thing its just what others observe about you. there is lots of loneliness and others may think you are struggling with something but they feel that they cant help you because you wont allow them. they feel useless. you may have lost someone close or these transformative occurrences keep happening so you may be in constant mourning and grief and may not have time to heal. this is not the end of the world though, they may think that you have something that others may want but you are too focused on he negative. you are very good with words. you have a poetic way of speaking and when you do people are fascinated. people notice your way of thinking and how you come up with solutions very easily and quickly. you may write a lot maybe journal and get your worries out on a piece of paper.
first thing that people notice: your walk, your head pieces (may be headband, ribbon, hair clips and whatever else you wear on your head, may even be glasses), your right hand (may wear significant jewellery on that hand, your clothing colours, odd style.
your vibe to other people:
eccentric, colourful, tired, unbothered, baggy clothing, indie, untidy style, unconventional, alternative, eyes blocked/ covered, unapproachable
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pile three-
people notice your positive view of the world, you may talk or have relations to other people who like your attitude and they may give you job related opportunities. you have good news with money so people give an impression that you are financially stable. you may not like to be in big groups and may not work as well in a team. this may make you quieter that you are or this may make you feel small and useless. you also may not address problems and keep them in. people usually only hear you speak about the positives in life and they wonder what you truly go through as you don't really address those topics. you are rather serious and don't take things lightly. you can take some things too seriously and people notice that about you. you take whatever you have and make it work for you. you are very vocal about your possessions and are not afraid to show off your ideas and abilities. yet, others notice how you work with whatever you are given and you do it well. you are proud of your creations and skills and are not afraid to use them and show them off. people see you as someone who is very proud of themselves. you are quite flirty in nature, you tend to show off your financial earnings in order to get others attention. you are every good with emotions and others see your empathy and interest through your expressions- this makes you very approachable and friendly. people feel like you are someone who they can trust in the long run. on the other end, you constantly regret your actions from the past which can change your mood completely. you have matured well and others notice that.
first thing that people notice: your creativity, your potential (you seem like someone who is on the path to success), your inspirational nature, your ideas, your fighting nature, your motivation, your hair.
your vibe to other people:
classy, successful, positive, fiery, showing your legs/arms, confident, powerful, smiley, expressive, formal, sexy.
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pile four-
you are very hardworking and are always keen to learn and master your skills. people notice how patient you are and very detailed. you take time to get to know something so you will be able to teach someone else. people notice your ability to teach and coach others. you are are very peaceful soul, very laid back and very reserved. you will give others the chance to shine instead of yourself and i feel like only some notice that about you. you sometimes are on the verge of giving up and you are vocal about it. yup, you always give give give. you are the most selfless person that anyone knows. you are so generous that most people can think you are putting up an act but truly you believe that what you give out comes back to you. people notice your curiosity, you may question a lot of things and ask lots of questions to other people. you may also observe and talk about the things others don't care about. you always seek the truth and it may be why you question everything as you wish it would give you answers.
first thing that people notice: your pet (may walk your dog a lot of you may spend time with an animal a lot), your leadership, your vision, your determination, your honesty, your stubbornness, your friendly nature, your structure.
your vibe to other people:
casual, simple, comfortable, easy going, in your own world, warm, natural, open, free, informal, effortless, sincere, not extra, relaxed, placid, flexible.
That is all!! thank you so much for reading, have a good day and i hope something amazing happens today.
#tarotblr#free tarot#tarotcommunity#kpop tarot#tarot cards#pick a card tarot#tarot#tarot pac#tarot pick a card#tarot reading#tarot witch#tarot community#tarot deck#free tarot reading#free readings#free reading#intuitive readings#style#pick a picture#pick a card#pick a pile#pick one#pick a photo#kpop astrology#kpop moodboard#moodboard
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— 25 DAYS OF SHIFTMAS (DAY 22)
Tinsel — What is something fun or random you have scripted? (ex. Thundersnow is more common, you have a ring that allows you to read minds, you have good luck with thrifting, you’re good at gambling.)
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
AN EXTREMELY CONDENSED LIST OF THE DUMB THINGS I’VE SCRIPTED
— people don’t laugh at me, only with me (because of some extremely funny thing i said. NOT because i fell over)
— i always show up to places at the right time, i coincidentally always show up at a time that’s fashionably late, without being late late enough to miss anything or inconvenience anyone. it’s a fine line
— my eyelashes STAY curled. i can live with not having mascara in apocalyptic-esque DR’s, but they at least have to be curled
— my clothes don’t get dirty or torn unless it’s for dramatic effect in some way, and even then it never exposes me (i will not have two metric tons of vintage Vivienne Westwood destroyed by some crispy wayward spell or a zombie or a demon that has no regard for being chic)
— i look cool when i get hit. i can take it, and there’s no ugly screaming or flailing. just a cinematic wince
— i can quite literally eat whatever i want, whenever i want, with zero limitations physically (if you see me overly detailing or including food in my DRs, know that i dream about it constantly)
— there’s fun drama that happens around me, so i can enjoy sitting pretty on my front row seats, but i don’t usually get pulled into it enough for it to actually mess up my day (ahem, Slytherins)
— my shoes don’t make squeaky noises. EVER
— my scent stays on me—my carefully selected shampoo and lotion that represent the very essence of my being—they stay on even after workouts, the end of the world, etc
— mosquitos, spiders and bugs just… don’t bother me. they know better
˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
#shiftmas#25 days of shiftmas#shiftmas2024#shifting motivation#hogwarts dr#shifting to hogwarts#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting antis dni#hogwarts scripting#shifting blog#shifters#shifting script#shiftinconsciousness#shift#shifting consciousness#shifting realities#shifting#shifting community#shifting to harry potter#shifting diary
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Experience the perfect blend of comfort and style with our Memphis Style 1980s Seamless Sports Bra for Women. Designed with modern athletes in mind, this sports bra offers excellent support and flexibility for all your workouts. The retro Memphis aesthetic adds a unique flair, making it a standout piece in your activewear collection. Elevate your fitness wardrobe with the Memphis Style 1980s Seamless Sports Bra for Women, where vintage charm meets contemporary performance.
#1980s fashion#women's sports bras#retro sportswear#vibrant athletic tops#seamless activewear#vintage workout clothes#neon colors#nostalgic style#athletic apparel#gym wear
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hello - do you have any recommendations for clothing brands that actually use natural fabrics ? i keep running into the issue you describe w brands like Doen lolol
mate the label is good for workout stuff, jungmaven has good basics, oddo body has nice underwear, christy dawn for dresses, but in terms of always using natural fabrics it's pretty slim outside these - you really have to just take care to read the ingredients used! literally came upon a pair of socks today that were called "cashmere blend socks" and they were only 3% cashmere and the rest was plastics like nylon etc - so if you care about pfa's or your hormonal health then you just have to be willing to buckle down and look carefully
even vintage stuff tends to have a lot of polyester, the way I have been doing it is if it sits directly on my skin I do 100% natural fibers - but if it's like a coat or something that you wear a base layer beneath, I compromise so long as whats directly on me is safe. even with that said though, be weary of paying high prices for plastic junk! personally can't even comprehend how many high end clothing brands are made with shit cheap stuff! a lot of places like Lisa Says Gah or Madewell like to make a majority of their stuff priced like it's organic but then it's actually just toxic plastic blends! Uniqlo too!
so just be thoughtful if you have any chronic health conditions or have cancer in your family and want to try and be preventative for whatever reason <3
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Instinct
Written for @steddiemicrofic! And specifically for @wynnyfryd who dropped this idea like a catnip toy in front of me and said "someone should write this"!
[ AO3 ]
'DRESS' wc: 350 | rated: M | cw: Clothes ripping
Steve wears tiny workout clothes and Eddie has bad impulse control! Oops!
There are many points of Eddie's life, plotted out like thumbtacks on a map, that he's not proud of. The biggest ones weren't his fault—he did the best he could!—but anything medium sized or smaller…
There's nobody else to blame when it's your own impulses that fail you, right?
Marching right up to Steve—hairy, pink-faced, sweaty Steve—fresh from his morning jog was one thing. So far so good!
Reaching out and grabbing his threadbare tank top and… and… ripping it down the middle, then whipping it off?
Another thumbtack for the map.
He doesn't know what to say for himself. He answers Steve's "What the fuck, Eddie?!" with "Dude, they come in 6-packs, it's fine" instead of perhaps… "sorry", or even an explanatory "ravish me in front of the OJ".
The shirt—in tatters!—now rests on the floor and Eddie's fingers rest in Steve's chest hair, where he scratches lightly. Steve's pink-face is turning a deeper red and he reaches up to grab Eddie's wrists. He seems shocked, but he finds his words right as Eddie's finger presses against his nipple.
"Stop like, scratching my—Oh!"
Eddie pauses, waiting, a hunter turned hunted as Steve grips him tighter just to push his hands in harder.
"Uh. Nevermind," he says, his voice going tight. "Keep going."
Now that Eddie has permission, he wrestles out of Steve's hold—he looks so sad about it that Eddie almost begs for forgiveness—so he can grab the waistband of his tiny little jogging shorts and yank those down. He doesn't rip them; they're vintage Hawkin's Gym shorts and he's worried Steve would replace them with something that actually fits.
Steve gasps and his chest expands with it and Eddie gives in—always giving in, these days!—smushing his face into it. He wants to finish undressing Steve, but the keep going was nebulous enough that Eddie gets to run on instinct here.
So he moans into his chest, playing with the waistband of Steve's jockstrap, as he tries not to rut against his thigh too desperately.
When he gets his mouth on his nipple and bites, it feels like success.
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exploring
September 31, 2024
Gemma was laying in bed having slept in a little as she is still getting use to the time change in Prague.
She didn’t know how she got lucky but she got her own room the trip and it was perfect because she could talk to Macklin as much as she wanted.
Gemma fell asleep last night on facetime with Macklin and she was still currently on face time with him as Macklin slept and she scrolled on her phone.
Gemma eyes flickered to the small box on her screen seeing Macklin’s eyes fluttering open and she pouted slightly wishing she could be with him as he woke up, “Morning Amore Mio.” Gemma softly cooed, she smiled as he cuddled to one of her stuff animals.
Macklin blinked smiling sleepily hearing his favorite sound, “Morning Hopey.” Macklin softly mumbled back reaching out for his phone and dragging it close to his face, smiling even more when he finally saw Gemma.
Gemma smiled softly back at Macklin before continuing to scroll on her phone letting Macklin wake up.
Macklin eventually after a little while woke up a little more and they talked a bit until Gemma got a text from Jack asking her to join a later breakfast with him and some of the boys.
Gemma blew a kiss to Macklin as they said bye to each other and hung up the facetime after hours. Gemma got up heading to the bathroom getting ready and changed into a black and white plaid tank top with black denim shorts a few pieces of vintage jewelry and her seventeen necklace.
Gemma slipped on her black and white Teeva sandals and grabbed her small black purse tossing it on her shoulder as she walked out of her room and headed down to the breakfast room.
She saw some of the boys sitting ar a table and grabbed some breakfast and some juice before heading over to the table where Jack, Nico, Dawson, Nate and Seamus were all sitting.
Gemma plopped down next to Seamus smiling sweetly at her teammates.
Gemma paused giving Dawson a look seeing him look shocked, “What?” Gemma softly asked.
Dawson shook his head surprised, “Sorry i just realized we have never seen you in just your clothes.” Dawson explained as they have only seen her in workout clothes, Devils clothes and hockey equipment.
“Oh.” Gemma shrugged nodding as it made sense why he was surprised.
“I have.” Jack shrugged giving a proud grin to Dawson making him roll his eyes and toss a napkin at Jack.
Jack smirked catching the napkin before turning to Gemma, “Gigi.” Jack sung out gently pulling on the ends of her loose hair.
“How’d you sleep?” Nico asked concerned, as he always is concerned of his team.
“Good.” Gemma shrugged softly not sleeping bad and only would’ve slept better with Macklin.
“Better if-��� Seamus went to playfully tease with a small smirk and Gemma immediately stepped on his foot making him stop talking, “Ow!” Seamus gave a playfully offended look to her.
Seamus had seen Macklin and Gemma at the last WJC and he wasn’t very close with Gemma at the time so he never asked but he found about Macklin during training camp.
It’s been very rare if Gemma or Macklin slip up at all about their relationship and it’s only happened once or two times and Seamus got lucky seeing the rare time.
“Shush.” Gemma softly told him as she still would so kind that Seamus couldn’t help but shake his head fondly.
Jack smiled slightly having a feeling he knew what Seamus was gonna say, He met Macklin when he met Gemma this summer and while the two never said if they were together there was some vibes there and Luke seemed to know more so Jack assumed the two were together especially as he knows they are living together.
The rest of the boys shared a shocked and surprised look seeing Gemma not wanting Seamus to say something but dropped it as Jack changed the topic.
They all had a free day and a lot of the players who had family near by left to go see their families so Gemma and the boys she was seeing breakfast with decided to start walking around Prague.
Nico was their tour guide as he has been here many times before with Gemma piping here and there from her time she spent in Prague the past summer.
Gemma found a few souvenirs she wanted even though most of them are for Macklin.
Gemma was looking at a table full of rings and paused seeing a rang they caught her eye, she gently picked up the ring noticing it was a male ring and it was a silver ring with a gem but the gem was the perfect mix of bright blue and red exactly like Ranger and Devils colors mixed but also team USA and Canada colors mixed.
Gemma smiled knowing Macklin would love it and she quickly to bought it putting it into her bag as she started walking to find the boys again.
Gemma nodded at something Jack showed her agreeing Luke would love and Jack went and bough it.
Gemma walked over to Nico as the rest of the boys were all at different booths buying things.
“You feeling good for the game?” Nico gently questioned her, he tries to check up on his team as much as possible but also wants them to feel comfortable enough to they can come to him.
Gemma slowly nodded she was obviously a bit nervous for her first game but mostly just looking forward to it, “Yeah i think it’s going to be good, i’m looking forward to it.” Gemma answered honestly with a small smile.
Nico smiled fondly as she answered, “Is any of your family able to make it?” Nico asked feeling slightly worried hopping she can have family at her debut.
Gemma softly nodded, “My parents, Adam can’t come because of his season and Luca might be coming.” Gemma was a bit bummed that Adam couldn’t come at all and Luca most likely won’t be able to come.
Nico nodded softly, “I’m glad you got someone to be able to see your first game.”
Gemma smiled sweetly at Nico back.
Jack came walking over and tossed an arm over both of Gemma and Nico’s shoulders.
The rest of the boys walked back over to them and they all continued to walk around Prague for the rest of the day.
#gemma fantilli au#Gemma Fantilli Au#gm13#macklin celebrini x oc#macklin celebrini#luke hughes#jack hughes#quinn hughes#nhl x oc#nhl au#jack hughes x oc#luke hughes x oc#new jersey devils#adam fantilli x oc#adam fantilli#luca fantilli x oc#luca fantilli#nico hischier x oc#dawson mercer#jesper bratt#dougie hamilton#jacob markstrom#simon nemec#nate bastian#curtis lazar#seamus casey#gabe perreault#ryan leonard#will smith hockey#cutter gauthier
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mortimer's closet
i want to ramble about the sense of style i have in mind for morty. this is more for my own reference than anything but feel free to read if interested. with the previous version of mortimer, i never felt inspired to develop any looks for him, his appearance just didn't speak to me. i did not have a strong inspiration/direction when i was making him either.
this new version is a much better muse.
colours: red and black is obviously morty's signature combo, but i wanted to work some more colour into his wardrobe. i thought some muted cool colours (blue and purple) would actually suit him really well because of his pale skin and black hair. i also thought cream (a sweater or some trousers) would complement the black and red colour scheme but i didn't make any outfits with it. for some brighter colours i could see him wearing teals, emeralds, and golds. i feel like earthy, warm colours (oranges, browns, greens, pinks, beiges) and neon colours would look very out of place on him.
everyday 01: sports coat, turtleneck sweater, wool or tweed trousers. his outfit for running errands where he'll be seen in public. comfortable, relaxed but still quite mature and luxe to reflect his personality and background.
everyday 02: a shirt with rolled up sleeves and slacks. he's not a fan of jeans. this is as casual as he gets.
formal 01: pinstripe double breasted suit. i always associate pinstripe with mortimer's old school vibe. this look is very vintage wall street yuppie. this is his power suit !
formal 02: a sleek, modern charcoal suit for any formal occasion. business meetings, weddings, funerals, divorce proceedings...
outerwear: this peacoat just suits him so well.
athletic: a long sleeve shirt for working out because he'd be too embarrassed to show any skin up top. all his workout gear is monochrome. sadly, no neon spandex for him.
sleepwear: a pair of silky red undies because red is his signature color! i added gold lettering because his TS4 default outfit has a bit of gold in it. and you know this man only wears designer underwear.
swimwear: a pair of silky lightweight swim trunks with designer print on them. these are the only colorful, printed clothes he has in his closet. he feels lighter and more relaxed just looking at them.
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okay since I'm halfway stuck in reorganising the piles and piles of clothes in my room on a whim, I pulled together two pieces I though would be fun!
obviously not the same shade of lightwash/bleached denim BUT I think it works <3 throw in a fun graphic/band tee, chunky 80s sneakers, some big hair, big earrings, bracelets and chains and sunglasses, and we're in business!
cropped vest is a fleamarket find (originally from a cheap fast fashion chain store in germany), hight waist jeans with buttons to attach matching denim suspenders are true 80s vintage from my aunt's closet!
they used to fit me a bit better, but I've totally fallen off the workout routine bandwagon last year so once I get back into taking proper care of my meatsuit they'll be more comfy around the hips and thighs lol
#i wanna put together fun little outfits again and maybe revive my ootd sideblog lol#i was thriving over there during the pandemic/lockdown years#was the only thing to do besides stay in bed 20 hours a day due to chronic pain and fatigue and being unemployed#the grocery shopping trips each week were the chance for me to dress up as freaky as i wanted#and i really miss that especially with how much I've neglected myself due to work the past year tbh
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