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bullet-prooflove · 9 months

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A Perfect Night: Roy Kent x Reader

Tagging: @anyamcdonald @elizabeththebat

When Roy first meets you it’s at an awards ceremony where he’s been nominated for Sports Person of the Year. He has a dozen of these fucking awards, each one collecting dust at the top of his wardrobe. The only reason he’s here is because he’s been strong armed into it, apparently, it’ll be good for the club, help raise it’s profile. He doesn’t fucking know. He hates these things.

The only thing that makes the event anywhere near bearable is you. When he bumps into you at the bar at the afterparty he’s fucking elated because he hadn’t just listened to your true crime podcast, he’s devoured it. He relistens to his favourite episodes during gym training, he immerses himself in the story because the way you tell it is perfection.

In the aftermath he realises that he fell in love with the sound of your voice long before he ever laid eyes on you.

“I fucking love your podcast.” He tells you after you let him buy you a drink. “The one about The Sandman had me up for fucking days, I mean it I was scared shitless.”

He’s not lying, he slept with the light after listening to that episode. He knows the guy is locked up in Broadmoor or somewhere like that but on a dark stormy night listening to the sound of the windows rattle…

Yea, he was fucking freaking out.

He’s never stopped to think about what you looked like, not until you got up on that stage and received the award for Podcaster of the Year. His brain couldn’t comprehend the intimacy of the voice in his ear to the woman standing before that podium, inviting her entire team up for making it happen. He likes that about you, that it’s not just your win but theirs as well.

“I swear I didn’t sleep a wink when I was researching it.” You inform him, jabbing at a piece of ice with your paper straw. “When I went to the place he grew up in Yorkshire, they still have all these weird little wooden stick things that he made hanging around on the trees there. It was like something out of the Blair Witch Project.”

“That’s fucking creepy.” He agrees as he leans back against the bar and takes a sip of his beer. “Please tell me you took a photo or something?”

You take your phone out from your sequined handbag and waggle it from side to side with a knowing smile. He finds himself grinning because the conversation the two of you are having, it’s grim, but he is in his element. You’re the first person he can talk to about shit like this and he is living for it.

You lean in close to show him the picture and he catches the scent of your perfume on your skin. It’s subtle, wild rose he thinks, with a hint of something a little edgy to offset the floral undertone. There’s a sensuality to it, he imagines his face buried in the curve of your throat, inhaling it as he makes love to you in that pretty lace dress that you’re wearing.

He’s drawn back to the moment when you tilt your phone towards him and use two fingers to zoom in on the picture. He sees what you’re talking about, weird shit made out of string and sticks, all different shapes and sizes, some of them are smeared with red.

“That is chilling.” He says and he fucking means it.

He can feel that odd little sensation chasing up his spine, it genuinely puts the shits up him. He has no idea why he chases this feeling; he finds the topic fascinating. He fucking loves puzzles. Trying to solve the mystery before the episode ends really gets him going.

“The hotel was literally right next door.” You tell him as you slip your phone back into your clutch. He notices that you don’t move away, that your arm is still pressed against his. You seem to feel as comfortable as he does in each other’s proximity. “My window literally looked onto them, I had to the sleep with the lamp on because I could hear them clacking together when the wind picked up.”

“Fuck me, I would have been out of there.” He tells you, shaking his head before he points his beer bottle in your direction. “You’re a brave one I give you that.”

He doesn’t expect to spend the entire night sitting at a table in the corner of the bar swapping stories. He usually ducks out early when it comes to these things, but he finds you captivating. Despite the fact you’re the storyteller, you actually turn out to be a pretty good listener. He tells you about Phoebe and the time he got called into her school because of her ‘drawings’. He was expecting some weird murderesque type shit from the way her teacher was going on, it wasn’t until he got there that he discovered that they were just really graphic drawings of breasts.

“And I mean unnervingly realistic charcoal sketches of them.” He explains, using his palms to empathise the shape. You take a sip from your drink to hide the pink that tinges your cheeks, because the thought of this man’s hands on you…

You don’t allow yourself to finish the thought.

It isn’t until the bar staff are starting to clean up around you that you realise how late it’s gotten, or rather how early. It doesn’t occur to you until now that you’ve spent the enter time discussing the world as you know it with a complete stranger. It sounds like the beginning of your own true crime podcast.

“I’m sorry.” You laugh as he helps you into your coat. “I didn’t even ask your name.”

Roy chuckles because for him, this is the perfect end to an absolutely perfect night.

“It’s Roy.” He tells you. “Roy Kent.”

Love Roy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#roy kent x you #roy kent x reader #roy kent #ted lasso

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rizsu · 9 months

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cashier's revenge gojo satoru.

sum. annoying ex!gojo gets his lick back. not beta read !

satoru's existence itself is a warning. is it a harzardous warning? not quite, but it's also not a good one. at this very moment, at this very precised second, gojo satoru is contemplating the consequences of clocking out of work before his shift is up. in his eyes, if it's executed properly, it can work. the only downside would be the possibility of getting fired.

he cannot afford such a tragedy. being a man in today's day and age comes at an expensive cost. one day satoru promises to find AND deliver punishment to whoever created the "men are the breadwinners." motion. he suffers from society's insane capitalism and boy might he just dive into hell. head first, even. perhaps even toes first, if he's feeling special.

satoru's current employment stems from two reasons. not one, not three, but two:

1. his urge to prove that he can be better off without you.

2. getō suguru, someone's that's just as bad as he is, told him he had the chance to do the funniest thing ever.

now, don't mistake him! gojo satoru is not easily influenced ( he is. ) he knows right from wrong ( sometimes. )

prior to him signing up as a cashier, your break-up was mutual. he agreed to let you go and you agreed that you weren't committed to being in a full relationship yet. on his vision, he hated that he had to let you go; his attachment grew and he couldn't go two days without bothering you.

it would've disgusted satoru if he made you stay with him but god he wished you would've done so.

bored and bothered, satoru fiddles with his fingers, unable to find entertainment elsewhere due to his phone's low battery warning.

"if no one enters in the next five minutes maybe i can — fuck," feeling his right eye twitch, satoru exhales a deep sigh. not only did someone enter but that unlucky customer happened to be you, y/n l/n.

his eyes following your body, praying that you magically decided to no longer buy anything. unfortunately for him, he cannot get everything he wants in life. watching you make your way to his position, he chants a line of curses before going into automatic-customer-service mode.

"hi," satoru begins, forcing his sunshine-like smile, "what would you have today? any menu specials?"

"hello! i'd like to have a — oh my god it's you.." stopping mid-sentence, you clutch the strap of your handbag. the odds weren't one hundred but they definitely weren't zero.

'am i a curse or what?' gojo thinks. your expressions most certainly didn't bypass his radar. setting his offense aside, he continues, "i'm sorry, we don't have an "oh my god it's you" on the menu!"

"sorry, i'll have the daily special," counting the money needed, you wait for him to finish his cashier duties.

"that'll be ten dollars and ninety-nine cents," satoru says, raising his hand to collect the money. for some rather peculiar reason, it seems as though a twenty dollar bill is stuck on its owner's hand.

"miss, please let go of the bill."

"whatever do you mean?"

scoffing, satoru yanks the bill out of your hand. he watches as you twist your face into disgust and shake your hand off. he's sorry, really, but he has to put himself first at times.

—

although satoru was set on escaping early, he now has a reason to stay longer. going out of his way to deliver your meal, satoru sits in front of you. he has the plot and the platform.

"here's your meal, bill, and change," sliding everything to you, he sits with folded arms. this position means business. formal business.

"thank you — but what are you doing there?" you question him, squinting your eyes at his choice of movement.

"don't question me. how have you been though?"

pulling out your fries, you tilt them to his direction, offering them to him. "i've been wonderful, you?"

"my life has been fine. i've recovered ever since you broke up with me," taking a single fry, he shakes his head as he munches.

"that's crazy but why're you even here?" you couldn't contain your curiosity.

"ever since you broke my heart, i needed to get my life back." gojo takes two fries this time, munching them in sadness.

"ah, i see." you reply.

"it's amazing that you can see ever since you broke up with—"

"do NOT finish that sentence." glaring at satoru, you shut down his pity party. whatever he has going on needs to stop.

"you stop me from doing stuff the same way you stopped my heart ever since you —" satoru tries to finish but was met with a burger being shoved in his mouth.

smiling to himself, he compliments himself as he managed to annoy you. satoru can only thank the gods that you don't despise him. even if you do then that's a problem for someone else.

on your side, you're regretting handing over your burger to him. you were sure that breaking up with him will cause a broken heart but it seems like someone's doing fine. taking a sip from your drink, you look at satoru who's happily eating your food. 'he looks cute' you think.

"satoru," you speak up, redirecting his attention from the burger and onto you.

"hm?" he hums, wiping away the sauces on his face.

inhaling a deep breath, you mentally prepare before asking him, "wanna come over tonight?"

satoru's mouth shaped like an 'O', he thinks for a while before agreeing, "i'd love to — especially after you broke up with me."

"i swear i will kill you, satoru."

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff

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murphy-kitt · 6 months

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Tabletop - Ectoberhaunt Day 6

AO3 Link (TBA)

Tags: Angst, Blood and Injury

Angela Foley seeks out Phantom to get a deeper introspection on him than the invincible hero the media portrays him as.

Whenever Phantom appears on the television screen, Angela has to look away.

She can’t help it.

A majority of the time the news will be broadcasting a segment about the newest ghost fight, as if—as if it’s some sort of action shot for a sequence.

As if it’s not a clearly dead teenager being thrown into buildings, sliced at, shot at, on a daily basis.

Perhaps her eyes are more observant to it — being a nurse for over fifteen years, with a teenager son of a similar age to the spectre. Possibly a mix of both.

But Phantom—does he have anyone?

Just because he’s a ghost doesn’t mean he can’t have communications—of course he might choose to keep them anonymous. Amity Park’s media can be a powerful thing.

Does he have anyone to tend to his wounds? Anyone who will sit down and support him, listen to him in his lament of a rescue gone wrong? Anyone who prevents him from believing the hurtful insults that get thrown at him each day?

Something in the pit of her stomach tells her he doesn’t.

A few days later — she finds her opportunity.

She finds him in an alleyway. The ectoplasm is a seeping, neon trail across the ground, some handprints smeared on brick to where it collects in a big pool. Phantom’s slumped just behind it, curled up in a tiny ball, one hand clenched to his chest, eyes closed.

It’s not the blood-ectoplasm that alarms her, it never is. Her job has managed to render her unafflicted at even the most fatal bleeding. No.

It’s Phantom himself. Yes, she’s been aware of his childlike appearance and the media’s desensitisation to his injuries, but now it’s different. Inhaling deeply, Angela takes in his appearance. Up close, the reality hits her. Phantom is just a child.

A child that is so far out of his depth, now crumpled and tossed into an alleyway like a discarded piece of paper. As if he’s nothing. And Phantom, well, he’s none the wiser, green eyes searching the alleyway dazedly. As if this is just a common occurrence, and Angela supposes it is for him.

She watches him a bit longer. Perhaps this type of treatment even transcended to his former life, when he was alive. Maybe it’s all he’s ever known. Maybe…she’s the first person to consider him the way she does. A child in need of help. Not some sort of revelled superhero.

“Wha??” Phantom blinks though bleary eyes as he catches her in his eyesight. He grips the floor and wriggles, but fails in pulling himself back. His body turns blueish for a few brief seconds, before he hisses in pain, clutching his wound.

The ectoplasm trickles faster now.

“Please, Phantom. I’m not here to hurt you.” She reassures quickly, incase he tries another escaping act.

He blinks again, eyes flaring a poisonous green. Whether in shock or a warning, she can’t tell.

Hesitantly she steps forward, pulling her handbag from her shoulder. It’s always got an array of bandages and stitches just incase she stumbles into a situation like this. As she does, Phantom seems to wither, pulling his hand away and showing the extent of the injury. Angela can still feel the searing gaze on her, though.

But it’s all the sign she needs to get to work. Angela focuses, examining the wound up and down. Instinctively, her hand goes to Phantom’s neck, trying to feel for a pulse under the cold skin, to see if the blood loss has any affect.

“Imma ghost…” Phantom slurs, trying to push her hand away.

And Angela would be inclined to agree, if she hadn't just felt a sluggish pulse under her hand.

A ghost having a pulse? She blanches at the thought, taking out a gauze packet from her bag. With trembling hands she undoes the wrapper, pressing the fabric to his chest. And now at a further glance, the ectoplasm has specks of red.

Why does he have a pulse? Is this why he’s so…different? Is he alive? Possessing someone?

To Angela’s relief, the trickle of ectoplasm begins to settle, the gauze now steeped with green and rusty-red flecks.

“You might be a…ghost.” She says, trying to cover the hesitation, “But you still deserve help, Phantom.”

“No-one ever does.” the ghost mumbles incoherently, shifting his head sideways to look at the concrete floor. “No-one helps a ghost like me.”

A ghost like him? Are there different species of ghost?

“Well, I’m here. And I want to help you, I promise.” Angela removes the gauze from the wound, trying to not show her trembling hands as she takes a needle and suture thread.

“I know.” Phantom’s gaze averts to her shyly before looking back at the concrete. “You’re a nurse.”

“W—what?” Her shock prevails as she nearly drops the needle, “How’d you know that?”

“Uh—uh.” Phantom seems to go even paler than before, his hands now more interesting than focusing on her. “You were there when I saved that girl, remember? You were in the ambulance.”

Angela does remember it, yes. The first time she’d interacted with Phantom up close, and the time she'd realised he wasn’t an invincible hero. The time she’d started looking closer.

“Is she okay?” After a short silence, Phantom sheepishly questions, “The girl?”

“Yes.” Angela nods, keen to alleviate his worry, “She was in hospital overnight and had a few grazes dressed, but she was fine.”

“That’s good.” The ghost hmms in response, flinching fully when she inserts the needle through his skin.

“Sorry. I should’ve warned you.” Angela frowns. “The needle is going through now. Tell me if you need to stop.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.” He brushes it off, waving a hand absentmindedly.

“How often do you stitch yourself up?” She inquires, wondering if he’ll respond. Phantom is very enigmatic, after all.

“Hmm. A lot. Don’t really have anyone else, you see?” Phantom shrugs, wincing as he does so. “I don’t want them to see how bad the injuries are so I do them myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to suffer like this.” The words spurt out without meaning to, leaving Phantom blinking owlishly at her.

”What—what do you mean?” He treads carefully, gnawing the corner of his lip.

“It might be normal to you Phantom, and don’t start with ‘I’m a ghost’, you shouldn’t be getting injuries like this, bleeding out yourself. You’re barely, what, fifteen?” “Fourteen.” He ducks his head away, “And it’s not like I’ve got a choice.”

Angela nearly drops the needle for a second time. God, only fourteen. Her son’s age. She wonders what age Phantom would be now, how long ago he died.

But he’s still got a heartbeat. She remembers the faint pulse under her fingertips. What does that mean? Is he still alive and no one knows?

The curiosity within Angela to find out this medical anomaly is dying to get free, but she bites her tongue. If Phantom wanted this known, then he would’ve told her or made the knowledge known to Amity.

In fact, something like this would probably get him in more danger, wouldn’t it? An anomaly. A rarity.

Instead, she follows the olive branch Phantom’s given her.

”Why do you feel like you don’t have a choice?” Two more stitches. She’s nearly done.

”Have you seen the other ghost hunters? The GIW?! I mightn’t get along with the other ghosts well but no one deserves that treatment. And the Fenton’s—well, the inventions are good but they hunt only a fraction of the attacks. I’m always there first.”

He's right. It pains to think, but it's true. Phantom is always there, every second of every fight. And if the pulse indicates anything, it's the possibility of a human life. A teenager sacrificing everything in his own life for Amity's safety. The mention of the other ghosts not liking him is interesting—is it due to his difference that he might be excluded in some way?

You can't think like this, Angela. Falling into the bias like others in Amity have done. See the ghosts as nothing but interesting—specimens—something to watch for entertainment. A hiss of pain stops her right in her tracks. Phantom's shoulders are hunched in further, one hand reaching for where the needle is.

Where the needle is jauntily stabbing into his skin. Amongst her internal monologue she's gotten distracted.

"It's fine-" Phantom stutters, but Angela shakes her head.

"Not it's not Phantom. I'm supposed to help you, not hurt you."

"I've heard that one before." He quips, giving a quick bark of dry laughter as he tilts his head back. "Not you. Just-people. Before.”

He's vague, and Angela doesn't blame him. The clear implications of his past life are shining right through, the rawness still clear in his put-on laughter. How many times have the quips and sarcasm actually been a coping mechanism? What if that was the cause in the death of a teenage boy?

But there's still one problem. The pulse. He must be still living—to some degree. Or it's a power, a type of ghostly pulse. A ghost-human hybrid sounds ridiculous.

And if he's still living, that means he's still enduring whatever is happening to him.

"Before?" Angela's mouth goes dry. One final stitch. She ties the thread. "Before you...became a ghost?"

"Yep." Phantom clarifies, propping himself back on shaky elbows. The ectoplasm remnants have dried to his suit, leaving a crystalized waterfall of green down his chest and on the ground. "They were meant to protect me. And I know they mean well—but—but sometimes I just wish they would take one second to actually pause and look. Stop and think instead of jumping into everything. Because I'm right here—I have been for over a year." The ghost hiccups, bringing a glove to glimmering eyes, "I just wish they would look and see me."

"Your parents?" Angela feels a chill go down her spine as she asks the fomented question. Anything involving a ghost's previous life is risky, but it feels wrong to leave him dwindling in the silence.

"Mhm." The ghost nods, slowly dragging his knees to his chest. His green eyes stare off somewhere behind her, contemplating things. "Sometimes I wonder how no one’s noticed. I thought it'd be obvious at first, when I first...became Phantom. I thought they’d connect the dots. But no one ever did. And—and then I realised it was because no one had cared enough about me to bother.”

She doesn't know what to say. Can't say anything. Just sits there and lets the ghost wallow, more green tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I take it they don't know who you are?" Angela inquires, depositing the needle and remaining thread back into her bag. She cringes outwardly. Of course they don't know he's Phantom.

"No." Phantom hiccups, a small flash of a smile on his face. "I thought that'd be pretty obvious." His mood sinks again as he looks at the pavement. "I've come so so close to telling them, telling everyone. But I'm tired. I'm tired and sick of ruining my life—afterlife for this. Tired of being some sort of superhero to everyone, being shot at, injured. I can't take it. I wish I'd never walked into that stupid fucking portal."

His voice tapers off into an angered hiss at the end, but the words are still clear as day.

Portal.

Only one family in Amity had a portal. Only one family in Amity had two bumbling adults who despite being degree level qualified in ectobiology, wouldn't see a ghost if it was haunting their own house. A family which had one son, who a year ago had mysteriously become withdrawn, cold and hesitant. Who'd drawn away from his closest friends and family.

"Danny?" Angela stutters.

A shaky nod is her only reply.

—

A/N: Day 4 and 5 I’ll be writing over the weekend! :) I know this one-shot doesn’t really match the prompt but I’d ran out of prompts which I hadn’t planned something for.

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt23 #ectober 2023 #tabletop #no one knows au #blood and injury #angela foley #day 6

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cazzyf1 · 3 days

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Some of my favourite quotes from Mike Hawthorn's car reviews in the Sunday Times

Did you know Britain's first world champion, Mike Hawthorn wrote car reviews? Every so often when a new car came out Mike was given it to drive around and give his expert review on the car. Though often times speeding them down Fleet Street as he went to test them out at the Silverstone track, Mike did have a good sense of what was needed in a car. In the reviews, his wit and typical British humour come through, and there were some parts I just had to write down, so here's my collection.

'Stop fiddling with things on the dashboard. Forget the burnt toast or the row with your neighbour. Don't look at the aircraft's or the pretty girls. The way ahead is the only view that matters to the expert driver.'

'I WAS DEPRESSED BY the dangerous way the large and heavy doors opened forward.'

'It may seem unfair on the hawk that I should test it in such weather when other cars go through their paces in sunshine and on dry roads. I don't agree.'

'What a car it is...and oh! what a price it is, just under £7,000. I ignored the price and concentrated on the fun'

'And when I reluctantly left the Bentley I just had to take one more walk round and admire the perfect lines of its body.'

'Engine: 9, Comment: This Minx purrs'

'Cornering: 9, Comment: Does just as its told'

'It is frustrating to find a car that won't be bullied. As a tester it is my job to make a car sequel for mercy'

'The new Standard Ten just purred at my treatment'

'Get in your car, relax. No more wheel hugging, no more clutching at it with hands like ham. Caress it, for only gentle fingers can feel what the car wants to do on corners.'

'Shame on you if you have to look out of the window to find out what three feet of clearance is.'

'Trimming and finish: 10, Comment: Those fussy French men liked it'

'A phrase for the place: The French motorists say snails are for eating not emulating'

'I sat in the T.R.2 full of suspicion and as cold as charity'

'I have never been so flattering about a car before and it embarrasses me'

'In a phrase: Hawthorn in wonderland'

'The absence of a fourth gear is a thing I deplore, but mine is a voice in the wilderness.'

'I have been accused of bad manners in desiring to head the car queue. I don't agree.'

'Dislikes: The cheap ash tray'

'"Typical American," I grumbled'

'Oh the anxiety as the time grew near and the car was still to be delivered'

'A skid is as easy to correct as a 5 year old's homework'

'Those critics of road-test reports make one accusation. They say I am too kind.'

'But if mother expects to get her handbag, a face cloth and towel for whipping sticky juvenile hands and all her bits and pieces on it she will be disappointed'

'A phrase for the car: A fastish hussy is the minx'

'There's no stocking big enough for the present I would have liked for, only a garage would hold it. A large garage with a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A garage with old masters on the wall. I'm dreaming of a large Bentley'

'I am not going to the trouble of filling in a score card this week. Just assume that the Bentley gets a ten plus for everything'

'Compromise... that's the world right out of a politician's dictionary'

'I am a back seat driver. Every time I test a car I climb into the back and view life from there. And what a task it can be sometimes'

'Off on a holiday...with the kitchen sink'

'I shook my head to clear the thunder from my ears'

'My wind-scourged face thawed into a glow as I settled myself in'

'Trimming: 6, Comment: Oh dear!'

'Mike Hawthorn interrupts a road test to air a pet hate...those lumbering diesel buses which travel along in a reeking miasma of black fumes'

'Comfort: 9, Comment: My passengers slept'

#classic f1 #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #vintage f1 #mike hawthorn

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daisies-daydreams · 5 months

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The Found Voyager - Chapter 2 (OP!OC Lilian x Shanks - Platonic)

Pairing: Lilian x Shanks (Platonic) Category: Fluff/Angst Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Mugging, Descriptions of Cuts/Bruises/Blood Word Count: TBA

Summary: Lilian shares her past with Shanks. The next morning, she decides to go out and buy gifts for the crew...only to find herself in a dire situation (Part 2 of a request from @shadytidalwavehideout).

Lilian woke up to the feeling of the golden sun warming her face. She blinked slowly and nearly fell out of her bunk when she realized she wasn't in her bedroom. The young woman placed a hand over her heart when she saw her new crew mates snoring peacefully in their beds. She quietly slipped down the ladder and changed into a fresh pair of clothes. Lilian hummed softly as she made her way to the upper deck. Shanks was already awake and leaning on the side of the ship, his eyes trained on the sun peeking over the horizon as he puffed at his pipe. He turned when he heard a board creak behind him.

"Didn't think anyone else would be awake at this hour," he grinned. Lilian giggled as she clutched her handbag.

"I'm just off to pick up a few things,” she explained. Shanks hummed as he blew a trail of smoke out of his nostrils.

"Would you like me to come with you?" he asked as he stepped forward. Lilian shook her head as she gripped the strap of her bag.

"No, thank you. It's a rather...secret mission," she whispered. Shanks chuckled as he sucked in another deep breath.

"Alright. Just make sure you're back in a couple of hours or else I'll send a search party after ya," he winked. Lilian giggled and nodded.

"I'll make sure!" she said before taking off with a wave.

The market was already crowded, people bustling in and out of the various stands and shops. She hummed to herself as she strolled through the rows of vendors, keeping her eyes peeled for anything that might interest her crewmates. The pink-haired woman nearly squealed when she laid eyes on a bottle of Shank’s favorite rum he was telling her about last night.

“Excuse me, how much for a bottle?” she asked the bearded shopkeeper.

“It’ll be three-hundred Berries,” the thin, blonde man replied. Lilian frowned.

“Oh, I only have a five-hundred,” she sighed.

“How about I throw in a small flask of whisky as well?” he grinned. Lilian returned his smile as they exchanged the money and alcohol. “Thank you and come again soon!” he waved. The young woman nodded and waved back before continuing her journey. By the time she had collected gifts for almost all of her new crewmates, the sun hung high above the clock tower at the center of town. Lilian gasped.

“I better get back soon,” she muttered to herself. Lilian quickly rounded the corner, only to bump into a large man. She gasped and stumbled against a wall as three men surrounded her.

“I’m so sorry, sir! I didn’t see you there,” Lilian apologized.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he grinned, a few of his teeth missing from his mouth. Lilian looked at each and every man: the large man bald with a scar across his face, the other one with long, greasy hair and an eye-patch, and the last tall and hulking.

“Are you all lost? I’m sorry, but I can’t provide any directions for-” her eyes widened when the one-eyed man pulled out a knife and held it to her chest.

“Give us all the money you’ve got on ya,” he sneered. Lilian swallowed a lump in her throat.

“I-I don’t-” she squeaked when the large man kept her pinned to the wall, his breath reeking of mead and cigar smoke.

“We heard you mention all the money your jewelry was worth in Minerva’s shop yesterday," he cackled. Lilian’s jaw dropped. She winced as the gangly man pressed the tip of his dagger closer to her throat.

“Hey, c’mon now cutie. Won’t you be nice to give us some cash… huh?” he lilted as he licked his chapped lips. You saw the third man crack his knuckles. Her blue tattoo began to glow blue as she readied her fingertips.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t really know you. So please, leave me-”

+++

Meanwhile...

Shanks furrowed his brows as he scanned the market from the dock of his ship.

"She still hasn't come back?" Benny grunted. The Chief sighed and shook his head, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach.

"What's going on?" Hongo asked. Benny and Shanks turned to their crewmember, only to see the rest come up behind him.

"Lilian's been gone for hours," Shanks said as he marched over to his quarters. He soon returned with a cutlass on his hip. The crewmembers' faces grew pale. "I'm going to search for her. You're all welcome to come with me," he said gruffly before marching towards the ramp. Every man looked at each other before walking behind their Chief.

+++

The next time Lilian woke up, her head was throbbing with a dull ache. She winced as she slowly opened her eyes, her vision blurry and head relentlessly spinning. Lilian released a sharp cry as she tried to steady herself, her arms shaking and covered in crimson scrapes and indigo bruises. She blinked a few times before falling back onto the cobblestone. The young woman hissed in pain before she felt something sticky against her cheek. A cold chill ran down her spine as she dreaded to see what was below her. She pulled herself up again, finding stability on her palms as she balanced on her scratched knees.

She nearly screamed as she backed away and saw a pool of thick, scarlet blood right where her head was resting. Lilian turned her head but whimpered as a sharp pain shot through her skull.

“Where are they?” she thought as her mind raced. She gasped when she couldn’t find her bag of gifts.

“No,” she whispered as hot tears rushed down her cheeks. All that time picking out the gifts she thought they’d loved were gone. She scraped her fingernails against the pavement as she gritted her teeth. She shot up with a sudden rush of adrenaline, catching herself against the wall as she shivered. Lilian puffed through her flared nostrils as she wobbled on her bruised legs. She clutched her side and coughed violently. A group of people gasped as she flopped onto the street, thankfully catching herself on her hands again.

“Someone get a Marine!” a man called. Lilian shook as blood flowed from the gash on her forehead.

“It’s all my fault, I didn’t act fast enough…I-I should’ve use my magic,” she thought as blood and tears trickled onto the pavement below. She felt a pair of hands on her back as her vision began to fade.

“Ma’am, I need you to stay with me…" a muffled voice said. She crawled forward on her hands and knees, her eyes lingering on the red plus-sign in front of her.

"Need to get…there," she slurred before collapsing onto the ground.

+++

Lilian gasped and lurched forward. She hissed when her ribs felt like they were about to pop, her head still throbbing with a dull ache. She glanced around and found herself in a hospital room. The events that recently transpired hit her like a ton of bricks. She clutched her aching side and sniffled before sobbing into her knees.

“I’m telling you, I need to see her!” Shanks bellowed down the hall. Lilian perked her head up as she heard a woman scoff.

“There’s no way I’m letting a crowd like you take one more step inside our clinic,” she huffed.

“But ma’am, I’m a doctor! Surely you can make an exception,” Hongo chimed in.

“No way!” she replied with an angry snort. Lilian turned her head to the door as auguring broke out amongst the crowd. Her eyes widened when she realized the entire crew was in the lobby.

"Sir! I can't let you back there! Sir!" the woman snapped. Lilian flinched when the door swung open. Shanks' eyes widened before his face twisted with rage.

“Shanks,” Lilian called in an exhausted voice. The other crew members filed in behind him to the chagrin of the receptionist. “Benny…Limmy…you’re all here,” she choked. Shanks rushed to her side and quickly kissed her cheek. She sniffed as he dropped to his knees and squeezed her hand.

“I thought we’d lost you,” the Chief said in a shaky voice. Lilian frowned as her throat tightened.

“I-I’m sorry,” she sobbed. Shanks gripped her hand even tighter.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, kid,” he reassured her. The rest of the crew quietly filed in, their expressions mirroring their Chief’s as they gave her space.

“Y-Yes there is. I should’ve had someone come with me, should’ve brought a weapon along, should-” she paused when Shanks pressed another kiss to her cheek, his warm lips lingering for a bit longer than usual. He brushed his fingers over her knuckles as his eyes glossed over.

“I’m just glad you’re still here,” he choked. Lilian sniffed before she went to wrap her arms around Shanks, only to cry out in pain.

“I knew I never should’ve left Fairygod Island,” she sighed. All of the men gave her a perplexed look.

“Where the hell is that?” Yassop asked before someone smacked him upside the head. Lilian’s eyes widened as she gripped her blanket. All eyes were on her now as she remained stiff as a board. She nervously looked over at Shanks who gave her a reassuring nod. Lilian took a deep breath.

“It’s an island in the sky,” she said. Everyone muttered as they gave her uneasy looks.

“I thought the sky islands were just a myth,” Limmy whispered. Lilian sighed.

“I know it hard to believe, but it’s true,” she hesitated to tell the next part of her story. The crew waited with bated breath as the young woman squeezed her hands. “And my parents…they’re the King and Queen of Fairygod Island,” she explained. Everyone’s eyes widened as their jaws dropped.

“Are you serious?!” Lucky screeched.

“Yes,” she silently glanced down at her lap. “They were terribly cruel people, never letting me walk about the towns nearby and only bringing me out when I needed to make an appearance for one of their many lavish parties,” the princess sighed. “That’s why my butler Kumo helped me escape,” Lilian explained. Everyone had an uneasy expression written on their face when she finished her story.

“I know it’s hard to believe, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all right away. I just…I didn’t want you to see me any differently just because I’m royalty,” she sighed. Lilian’s eyes widened as Shanks squeezed her hand.

“It’s okay, Lilian. We believe you,” the red-haired man stated. Everyone nodded, though some seemed more convinced than others. Lilian gave a small, warm smile.

“Thank you,” she breathed. Shanks nodded.

“If you're not too shaken up, could you tell us what happened earlier today?” he asked.

“More importantly, who the hell did this to you?” Benny asked as he drummed his fingers against his sword, his voice laced with venom. Lilian sighed as Shanks wiped at her swollen cheeks.

“I-It was a group of three men. One was thin and gangly, one big and muscular, and the other…well, he was about in between,” she sniffed. “Th-They all looked different-but the biggest one had a horizontal scar across his face and a red bandana on his head,” Lilian explained. Benny clenched his jaw as he gripped his sword.

"Those bastards," he gritted his teeth before he spun on his heel. The man paused before turning back around and kissing Lilian on the cheek.

“Limmy, Gab, you’re with me,” he barked. The two other men kissed Lilian’s cheek before heading out, readying their weapons.

“No weapons in the building!” the receptionist screeched. Lilian couldn’t help but giggle a little before her side ached. Shanks patted the side of her face as he kept her hand in his.

“It’ll be okay, Lilian,” he reassured her with a warm smile. Lilian felt her heart swell as the rest of the crew lined up behind him, each taking their turn giving her a soft kiss on her cheeks. Hongo stepped forward, his brows knitted together as he wore a deep frown. He barely ghosted his fingers over the wrap on her head. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Look at what those bastards did to you,” he sucked in a sharp breath. Lilian sighed as he cupped her cheek with his large palm.

“Wish I could’ve gone on that damn hunt,” Lucky said as he curled his fist. The young woman sniffed, making all of the men turn their attention to her.

“I-I’m sorry. I j-just never had anyone care about me like this,” she cried as she wiped her eyes. The room fell into a heavy silence as she sobbed into her hands.

“Of course we care about you, Lilian,” Shanks said.

“Yeah, you’re our girl!” Yasopp piped up. Lilian’s eyes widened before she cried even harder. Shanks cooed as he gently wrapped his arms around her and stroked her back.

“Thank you, thank you everyone,” she smiled as tears streamed down her face.

+++

Lilian perked her head up when a pouch was tossed onto her bed. She glanced up to see Benny standing with his arms crossed, a few strands of blood crossing his outfit.

“Sorry we couldn’t bring you back the full amount. Damn thieves made off with almost half of what was in your bag,” he said. Limmy and Gab stepped up behind him, their faces grim and worn. Lilian gently took the pouch and placed it on her bedside table.

“Thank you,” she said with a weak smile. Benny grunted and looked down at the Chief still holding her hand even as he snored against the side of her bed.

“He hasn’t moved an inch,” Lilian whispered.

“Well, that’s Shanks for ya,” Limmy said with a nod. The rest of the crew were all asleep, their loud snores echoing inside the small room as they lay slumped against the wall or in a chair. Lilian sighed.

“I’m still upset that I couldn’t give you guys your gifts,” she said as she gripped her blanket.

“Gifts?” Benny asked. Lilian nodded, her heart feeling too heavy inside her chest.

“That’s why I went out today-to buy gifts for all of you,” she replied. Gab’s bottom lip trembled as he sniffed and wiped at his eye.

“Aw Gab, you big softie,” Limmy jested.

“It’s been forever since I’ve gotten a gift,” he sniffled. Lilian frowned as she held up her hands.

“I’m so sorry. You would’ve had it by now if-”

“It’s not your fault,” Benny cut in. Lilian shrank in her bed.

“I-I know,” she sighed as she twiddled her thumbs. Benny shifted in place.

“How about this: two of us go out shopping with you tomorrow. We can split the difference between us,” he said.

“Absolutely not,” Hongo muttered nearby. The three of them flinched.

“I thought you were asleep!” Limmy whispered loudly. Hongo yawned.

“I was. But like I said-Lilian should stay here and heal for a few days before she goes out again,” the doctor stated. Lilian’s heart sank as she sighed.

“He’s right,” she said before yawning and blinking slowly. Hongo cooed.

“Get some rest, Lilian,” he whispered. The young woman nodded before drifting off to a much needed, deep sleep.

Epilogue

A bird chirped right outside Lilian’s window as the sun seeped through the cracks of the blinds. She yawned and stretched, only to grimace at her sore arms. Lilian gasped when she saw a bounty of packages set in front of her. Her crew stood in the doorway behind Shanks.

“What’s all this?” she asked as she looked at the pile. The Chief stepped inside and kissed her cheek.

“Benny told me your little plan from yesterday,” he grinned. You glanced over at the man who wore a small smile. “So, the crew and I went out and decided to return the favor,” Shanks continued. Lilian’s throat tightened as she smiled ear to ear.

“Do you like it?” Lucky asked. She nodded as she placed her hands over her mouth.

“I love it! Thank you all so much!” the young woman beamed. They all nodded, their smiles just as wide as hers. Lilian thanked each and every one of them as she opened her gifts. Her heart has never felt fuller as she looked around at her new crew: she was finally home.

----

Thank you for reading! 💖

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#shanks one piece #shanks #shanks x oc #red hair shanks #akagami no shanks #one piece angst #one piece fluff #one piece #one piece anime #one piece manga #op anime #op oc #one piece oc #one piece original character #op manga

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samrut · 10 months

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Feliks has a vast collection of purses, clutches, and handbags but never carries around money.

If you ever go out with him, just know you'll be footing the bill.

#hetalia headcanons #hetalia #hws poland #he showed up-least you could do is cover the cost of his 25 apple martinis🍸

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modafirmauk · 1 month

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Exploring the World of Designer Bags and Accessories

Designer bags are more than just fashion statements; they're functional companions for our daily lives. But with so many options available, navigating the world of designer accessories can feel overwhelming. This guide explores the diverse world of Designer Purses & Wallets for Women, messenger and Crossbody bags, backpacks, and even pre-owned finds, providing you with the information you need to find your perfect match.

Purses & Wallets: Everyday Essentials with Style

Purses and wallets are the cornerstones of any bag collection. When choosing a designer purse, consider your lifestyle and needs.

Totes: Perfect for carrying everything you need, totes are ideal for busy professionals or anyone who loves to be prepared. Brands like Longchamp offer spacious yet stylish options.

Clutches: A timeless and elegant choice for evening outings, clutches come in various sizes and materials. Explore Bottega Veneta's woven leather clutches for a touch of Italian craftsmanship.

Crossbody bags: A versatile option for everyday wear, crossbody bags offer hands-free convenience. Saint Laurent's iconic "Le Sac YSL" is a classic example.

Wallets are equally important. Consider functionality when choosing yours:

Cardholders: Ideal for minimalists, cardholders offer a slim profile for everyday essentials. Mulberry offers sleek and stylish cardholder options.

Bifold wallets: A classic choice, bifold wallets provide space for cards and cash. Gucci's signature leather bifolds offer a touch of luxury.

Zip-around wallets: Offering security and multiple compartments, zip-around wallets are perfect for those who carry a lot. Michael Kors offers a wide range of functional and stylish zip-around wallets.

Stylish Messenger & Crossbody Bags: The Perfect Blend of Form & Function

Messenger and Crossbody Bags offer a stylish alternative to traditional backpacks. They're perfect for carrying essentials while maintaining a polished look.

Messenger bags: Offering a professional and practical vibe, messenger bags are perfect for work or school. Burberry's iconic check print messenger bags are a timeless choice.

Crossbody bags: Versatile and fashionable, crossbody bags come in various sizes and styles. Chanel's classic flap bag is a timeless crossbody option.

Women's Leather Backpacks: Luxury Meets Practicality

Leather backpacks are a stylish and practical option for everyday use. They're perfect for carrying heavier items while maintaining a sophisticated look.

Structured backpacks: Ideal for work or travel, structured backpacks offer organization and style. Balenciaga's City bag is a popular choice for its sleek design and functionality.

Convertible backpacks: Offering versatility, convertible backpacks can be transformed into totes or Crossbody bags. Tory Burch's convertible backpacks are a practical and stylish choice.

Pre-Owned Designer Bags: Sustainable Luxury for the Savvy Shopper

Looking for a unique and sustainable way to enter the world of designer bags? Consider pre-owned options. Reputable online platforms and vintage stores offer a treasure trove of authentic pieces at a fraction of the original price.

Environmental benefits: Choosing pre-owned reduces your environmental impact by giving a new life to existing bags.

Unique finds: Discover rare and vintage pieces that are no longer available in stores.

Cost-effective: Enjoy the luxury of designer brands at a more accessible price point.

Choosing the Perfect Designer Bag: It's All About YouUltimately, the perfect designer women’s handbags are one that reflects your unique style and complements your lifestyle. Consider your needs, explore different brands and styles, and don't be afraid to invest in a piece that you'll cherish for years to come. Whether it's a timeless purse, a practical backpack, or a unique pre-owned find, the designer bag world offers something for everyone.

#Designer Bags and Accessories #fashion #fashion items

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dyemelikeasunset · 1 year

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How would you describe Dom and Mor's fashion style? What's their main aesthetic (if they have one) and what's your usual process when dressing your Ocs?

(I noticed Morgan's style had changed a ton since you reworked the story).

yeah Mor's style changed a LOT in her recent iteration lol

As for my process, I kinda go through a lot. I start with mood-boarding of course, but I also have a pretty deep knowledge of fashion brands and current trends, so I use those to help get a general aesthetic or direction for my characters.

I'll summarize how I see Dom & Mor's fashions and you can pick up some of the things I have on my long list of "what things I consider in the style for my OCs"

Dom: menswear inspired, androgynous, the occasional luxury brand logo (especially in her belts). Primarily should feel sleek-- even if she's following oversized trends, another part of the outfit should be svelte to balance it out. Very much a Gucci, Chanel, and Yves Saint Laurent girl, but she tends towards all-black or greyer/monochrome palettes. Shoes range from oxfords, smoker slippers, and chunky heels of all kinds (she usually wears a 3-inch). Doesn't really do thin post heels unless it's for work.

She's the type to not have bags often, if she does, it's a handbag or clutch. Wears minimal watches, but doesn't accessorize much outside of that. She has no idea what a futch is, yet she wears luxury men's briefs and cologne (her scents tend towards teak and mahogany and other handsome wooden-to-oriental scents)

Mor: comfortable, somewhere between tomboy and feminine, sometimes sporty but not sports luxe. She avoids "bombshell" or "sexy" looks, and is stylish in a cute street-inspired way. LOVES to layer, winter is her favorite season. Likes brands like Kenzo, Off-White, and Tommy Hilfiger. Picks up on popular trends, and likes whites, light tans, and sedated but rich colors. Uses canvas tote bags and backpacks. Tends towards oversized silhouettes in at least one part of her outfit. She refuses to let the Timberland and chunky sneaker trends die-- she loves her Timbs and a good chunky shoe. In general likes to collect nice footwear but leans towards flat heels, sneakers, and cute boots.

Her main way of accessorizing is through hats and beanies-- doesn't really do belts, jewelry, or perfume. Her scents usually come from lotions and essential oils, which range from floral to oriental

#just fyi...for anyone who doesn't know about scents #i realize oriental is a loaded word and i don't like it either but it's the classification #dom and mor

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wildbeautifuldamned · 1 month

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Antique Childs Doll Miniature Beaded Purse with Swan Made in Czechoslovakia 4 ebay want2need1

Vintage Beaded Pink Satin Clutch Purse Flower Design Evening or Special Occasion ebay Julie's Books and Other Collections

Vintage Ohh! Ashley beaded evening bag - stone sequins shells ebay penapo_82

VERY RARE Art Nouveau EXQUISITE Pearl Embellished Beaded Evening Bag Purse ebay tonyt134

Obagi Vintage Silver Beaded Floral Purse. Ex Condition. Feminine & So Pretty! ebay buygonesbutik

Vintage Gold Beaded Purse Wristlet Evening Bag Art Deco Style Clutch ebay Lady_Yesterday

VTG Walborg Evening Bag Purse Glass Beaded Kiss Lock Floral Peach Gift Easter ebay Wowshopzone

Vintage Purse Wristlet Hand Made France CECILE Hamilton Beaded Hollywood Glam ebay wendyzwishlist

Vtg Ivory and Gray Beaded Art Deco Evening Handbag Purse Dormar Japan 8.5x4.5 ebay Candi's Vintage Collectibles

#beaded purse #purse #swan #bird #pearl #heart #enamel

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shopping490490 · 2 years

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https://www.ebay.com/itm/165705287404 #bettyboop #clutch #forsale #bag #wallet #handbag #collectibles #women #girl #checkitout #musthave https://linktr.ee/shopping490490 #ebay #mercari #shopify #etsy #poshmark #bonanzamarket #twitter #tumblr #facebook #instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CjOTuLXpd8x/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#bettyboop #clutch #forsale #bag #wallet #handbag #collectibles #women #girl #checkitout #musthave #ebay #mercari #shopify #etsy #poshmark #bonanzamarket #twitter #tumblr #facebook #instagram

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nourfathallah · 3 months

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How to Style Nour Fathallah's Off-Shoulder Gowns for Every Occasion

In the realm of fashion, few styles evoke the timeless allure and sophistication quite like off-shoulder gowns. When it comes to this exquisite design, Nour Fathallah's creations stand out as epitomes of glamour and grace. Whether you're attending a daytime soiree, an evening gala, or a red carpet-event, here's your guide on how to style Nour Fathallah's off-shoulder gowns for every occasion.

The Versatility of Nour Fathallah's Off-Shoulder Gowns

Daytime Elegance

For daytime events, opt for a side cut dress variant of Nour Fathallah's off-shoulder gowns. The subtle reveal adds a touch of allure without being too overpowering. Choose lighter colors like pastels or floral patterns for a refreshing daytime look. A knee-length off-shoulder dress paired with nude heels and minimal accessories strikes the perfect balance between casual and chic.

Evening Glamour

When the sun sets, it's time to elevate your style. Choose a cocktail gown from Nour Fathallah's collection for an evening affair. The flowing silhouette and intricate detailing on these gowns make them ideal for a sophisticated night out. Complement your look with statement earrings and a sleek clutch. Go for bold colors or classic black to make a lasting impression.

Red Carpet Ready

For red-carpet events, embrace the grandeur of a ball gown. Nour Fathallah's ball gown dresses are a testament to luxury and opulence. Opt for rich fabrics and dramatic silhouettes to ensure you stand out. Complete the look with a pair of stiletto heels and a glamorous updo. When it comes to the red carpet, there's no such thing as too much glamour.

Pairing Accessories with Nour Fathallah's Off-Shoulder Gowns

Jewelry Choices

Accessorizing is the key to elevating your off-shoulder gown game. For daytime events, keep it simple with delicate bracelets and stud earrings. In the evening, don't shy away from statement necklaces and bold cocktail rings. When donning a ball gown, opt for intricate chandelier earrings to frame your face elegantly.

Footwear Selection

Your outfit can be made or broken by the right shoes. For a daytime event, choose comfortable yet stylish footwear like strappy sandals or low heels. Evening affairs call for more elevated choices, such as stiletto heels or embellished pumps. When wearing a ball gown, ensure your shoes peek out just enough to make a statement.

Clutch and Handbag Combinations

Selecting the right clutch or handbag is crucial to complete your ensemble. A sleek clutch with subtle embellishments works wonders for evening events. For daytime gatherings, a chic handbag in a complementary color adds a touch of sophistication. When opting for a ball gown, a small clutch with intricate detailing ensures you carry your essentials in style.

Nailing the Look: Hair and Makeup Tips

Hairstyles that Complement Off-Shoulder Styles

The neckline of off-shoulder gowns provides the perfect canvas for showcasing your hairstyle. Opt for chic updos like a messy bun or a sleek chignon for an evening event. For a daytime look, loose waves or a half-up, half-down hairstyle adds a touch of romance. Experiment with hairstyles that highlight your shoulders and neck, enhancing the overall elegance.

Makeup Tips for a Polished Finish

A flawless makeup application is a finishing touch to your Nour Fathallah off-shoulder gown ensemble. For daytime events, keep it fresh with a light foundation, neutral eyeshadows, and a pop of color on the lips. As the day turns into night, intensify your makeup with smoky eyes or bold lips. When wearing a ball gown, don't be afraid to go for a more dramatic and glamorous makeup look to match the opulence of the gown.

Conclusion

In the world of fashion, styling Nour Fathallah's off-shoulder gowns is an art form. Whether you're opting for a side-cut dress, a cocktail gown, or a majestic ball gown, understanding the versatility of these designs allows you to express your unique style on every occasion. Embrace the elegance, pair with the right accessories, and confidently step into the spotlight, showcasing the beauty and grace inherent in Nour Fathallah's timeless creations.

#women designer dresses #women evening dress #evening dresses for women #designer evening gowns #gowns for women #designer gown #party wear dress #gown design #evening gown for wedding #cocktail gown #long sleeve gowns

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rabbitcruiser · 6 months

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National Handbag Day

From totes to satchels to clutches, treat yourself to a new handbag. With so many options, you’re sure to find something that reflects who you are.

It’s no secret that many women love handbags, sometimes perhaps a little too much, but who would have thought that it would ever get to the point where an entire day of the year would be put aside especially for handbags to be celebrated in all their glory?

Learn About National Handbag Day

“I want someone to look at me the way I look at a Chanel bag.”

Well, believe it or not, National Handbag Day exists, and real people actually do take some time out of their day to celebrate it and pay tribute to their beloved collection of handbags as well as all those they wish they could afford.

It is a day when women talk about handbags…even more than usual, both on the Internet, through blogs, and in real life with friends. It is a day where the greatest designs and designers are discussed and celebrated.

And also a day through which the purchase of a new handbag, or bags, for the more extravagant, can be justified and needs no explanation.

We are sure all ladies will appreciate this date. After all, it is often remarked that women keep everything but the kitchen sink in their handbags! While you should never go into a woman’s handbag, if you did, you would probably be shocked by the sheer number of different things inside. And so, it is only right that we pay tribute to such an important accessory. A handbag is our trusty companion; it goes everywhere with us.

Of course, you don’t need to be female in order to celebrate this trend. There are a lot of bags on the market today that have been created for men. In fact, the oldest purse known dates back 5000 years, and it was worn by a male; Otzi the Iceman. Men used to carry purses so that they could hold all of their coins.

While handbags are more popular with women today, designers in Europe in the ‘70s revived this trend for men as well. This is something that has only gotten more and more momentum. In fact, there has been a much more diverse range of accessory bags for men that have been marketed since the ‘90s.

In the United States, the styles for men that are more common tend to be those that are variations on messenger bags or backpacks. They tend to have more of a unisex or masculine appearance. However, it’s not to say that the industry is not thriving. In fact, the worldwide trade in the men’s small leather goods and bag sector is $4 billion per annum.

History of National Handbag Day

“My biggest fear is that when I die, my husband will sell all my bags for what I told him they cost.”

In order to understand the history of National Handbag Day, we need to delve a little bit deeper into the history of the handbag. Purses were worn by early modern Europeans for the sole purpose of carrying coins. They were created using leather or soft fabric, and men wore them just as regularly as women did.

Young girls were taught how to embroider clothing during the 17th century. This was considered a skill that was vital for marriage. Not only this, but it helped them to craft truly stunning handbags.

Fashions in Europe changed in the late 18th century. They moved towards bags that had more of a slender shape. They were inspired by the silhouettes of Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece. Ladies wanted purses that would not look untidy or bulky in their appearance. This resulted in the creation of reticules.

Reticules is a term that is used to describe bags that had wrist straps and were made of fine fabrics, for example, velvet and silk. They became highly popular in France first and foremost. After a short while, their popularity spread to the United Kingdom, and they were considered indispensable here. The trend was not adopted by men, however. Instead, they used pockets, which had started to become popular in trousers for men, as well as purses.

It was during the Industrial Revolution that the modern handbag, pouch, clutch, or purse thrived in the United Kingdom. This was partly attributed to the increase in railway travel.

Samuel Parkinson, a confectionary entrepreneur and industrialist from Doncaster, ordered a site of different handbags for his wife. When he was traveling and ordering some trunks and cases, he realized that his wife’s purse was too small for everything required. Plus, the material that it was crafted from would not have withstood the journey.

Because of this, he decided to order different bags in different sizes for various occasions for his wife. He requested that the bags were crafted using the same leather that was used for his trunks and cases. This is how the first set of luxury handbags were created, as H. J. Cave of London adhered to the orders of Samuel. These are the sorts of bags that you would recognize today!

However, it was not all plain sailing for H. J. Cave, as you may have expected. Although he continued to create and advertise these handbags, a lot of critics said that they were unnecessary. Some critics even said that the heavy material and size of the bags would break women’s backs. After 1865, H. J. Cave stopped promoting the bags as a consequence. It was not until 2010 that the production of handbags was resumed by the brand.

How to celebrate National Handbag Day

“I’m very organized these days, and I keep my life in my handbag, like most women.”

It goes without saying that the best way to celebrate National Handbag Day is to treat yourself to a new handbag. There are so many different handbag styles to choose from nowadays, from totes to satchels. This means that you should have no trouble finding a handbag that is right for you. No matter your individual style, color preference, or the belongings that you intend to store within your handbag; you should have no trouble finding something that is right for you. Why not donate your current bag to a charity store or sell it online in order to make way for your new bag?

You can also get involved with National Handbag Day on your blog, YouTube channel, and social media platforms. A lot of bags have stories behind them, so why not share this with your followers? You can show them the different bags that you own, and tell them the story behind the bag. This is a fun way of using National Handbag Day to engage with your followers, friends, and family members.

Source

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a-glimpse-of-fantasy · 2 years

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Moments

This is a work done together with @03patrickstar ^^

⚠️ This story takes after the final episode of Duskwood. So if you haven't finished the game first, this story contains heavy spoilers.

⚠️Warnings: Mentions of death

Previous chapter

***

Chapter 6 - Disquiet minds.

“I’m going to set off now.” The man wearing a black hooded figure took her in his. His hands were affectionate, holding hers as if they were made of glass.

Faye didn’t need another moment to know who this man was. Her eyes widened; her chest tightened.

Jake! Don’t go! The FBI will show up!

No matter how hard she tried moving her mouth, she failed. Soon, her lips moved on their own accord, “You don’t have to do this… I can still go.”

“I told you, I cannot allow you to put yourself in danger.”

Richy is our culprit! Please, Jake! Richy won’t harm me! You’re in worse danger!

Tears escaped her eyes, unable to convey her words to him. Again, Faye spoke, raising her voice as she did. “But I have to allow you to do so? Why don’t the same rules apply for the both of us?”

It was then.

Faye realized. This conversation occurred before Jake left for the Iron-splinter mine instead of her.

It was useless. This isn’t the reality. Yet, Faye looked at his face attentively. She had to see his face. At least for a split second, Faye wanted to lock eyes with his. This could be their first and last meeting.

But she couldn’t.

No matter how hard she looked, his face was blurred.

“Because I have made the decision to protect you.” He declared. Gently taking her hands to his lips. The warm lips touched her skin, spreading warmth to her heart.

“At any cost.”

Don’t! Jake!

Please don’t go!

Extending a hand, Faye ran towards the distancing hooded figure. She screamed his name.

Jake!

Yet he didn’t seem to notice her voice at all. Faye ran harder.

However, he was always faster.

Always…

Faye stopped for a second to catch her breath. Suddenly, a gunshot ran through her ears. Faye looked up; her tired eyes widened.

She was at the Iron-splinter mine.

Jake’s lifeless body fell before her feet.

Faye gasped for air. She felt as if she was being choked. Clutching her neck with both hands, Faye ran to get the pills out of her handbag. Tripping over her legs several times, she finally succeeded. Roughly shoving the pills into her mouth, Faye gulped down the water, spilling almost half of it.

Minutes later, which felt like years, Faye could finally breathe.

Faye calmly raised herself to her feet. Her body was damp in a cold sweat. Sighing, Faye walked to the bathroom.

***

Sleep and Kyle did not seem to know each other these days. He finally stood up after spending who knows how long just lying on the bed.

5:40 a.m.

Exhaling aloud, Kyle rubbed his tired eyes. After gulping down a glass of water, he sat down again. Soon, Kyle was lost in thoughts.

Jake…

Three years ago, when they finally got a hold of him, Jake escaped yet again. But they succeeded in finding his weakness.

The mysterious woman who worked together with Jake.

They found this through a public video uploaded by Lily Donfort. The first speculation was that they were partners or she was his underling.

This was soon proved wrong as Faye Evans had no initial connection to Jake. By the time they moved to investigate Faye, the incident at the Iron-splinter mine had already happened. Unfortunately, they were too late.

They should’ve targeted Faye Evans from the beginning.

Soon, Jake cut off his every relation with everyone in Duskwood as well as with Faye. With such circumstances, they lost the chance to seize him once again.

The relationship between Faye and Jake could not be cleared as well.

However, there was one thing out of the ordinary. Jake protected Faye’s phone for the past three years. Like a maniac.

Thus, their focus turned towards Faye once again. By collecting information through the phones of those around her, they could find their relationship.

Lovers.

Jake? Love?

Honestly, those two words didn’t go together. The Jake Kyle knew was nothing of that sort. He was not in a position to object anyway. Kyle was almost forced for this task.

Impersonating Jake.

Kyle was chosen for the job for two reasons, the similarities in their overall appearances, and their relationship. Jake and Kyle were close friends once. That was before Jake betrayed them and turned his back. That was almost seven years ago.

Recently, many foreign governments seemed to show a surge of interest in Jake. This raised the urgency to seize him as soon as possible.

Honestly, dragging an ordinary citizen to this matter was their last resort.

It’s too late to worry now anyway.

Either way, Faye Evans was an interesting person. Her dark emerald eyes seemed to have an immense depth. She held a tragic past from her parents' death, grew up in an orphanage, and managed to get accepted to a prestige university and even a decent job. The only thing that connected her to Jake was Duskwood. But other than that, there was nothing out of the ordinary in her life.

That means Jake is connected to Duskwood… Somehow.

But how?

The only one he could gain those answers from was Faye. If only he could get a hold of her phone, he could gain all the answers he needed.

She didn’t let go of her phone for a second.

A vibrating noise jerked him back to reality. Kyle dragged himself to unlock the phone.

-Faye Evans is at Duskwood.

Duskwood? At this time?

-To be Continued.

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