chiffon bow



Ivory silk having ice blue short sleeve and pleated high waist with front and back bow detail, chiffon overlay, cutaway and edged in cloth flowers, lace and tulle bodice insert, the sleeve and waistband trimmed in beaded tulle with diamante, crystal beaded tassels, trained skirt with blue satin bow detail, corset interior

Begin Again

Anonymous requested: She is a doctor working at the emergency room and meets Zico there by a casualty. If he’s the patient or the guardian or if they fall in love or if it’s fluffy or whatever and how it ends that’s up to you. I will only ask for it to be a damn long scenario. I’m sorry if I’m annoying and shit but I’m about to cry of tiredness and I really need something to lift my mood, please have mercy of the tired ass of a med student.

A/N: Let me first start of by apologizing to my med student nonnie who sent this in months ago. I finally had a concept for this pop up. I hope (if you’re still around) this was worth the wait and sort of what you were looking for! All the best wishes for you and your studies! Much love, Jenn

Genre: Zico x Reader

Words: 4073

Disclaimer: As always, any gifs used are not mine and belong to their rightful owners!

It wasn’t that you necessarily hated weddings…oh who were you kidding? You absolutely loathed them. From the time you had to be a bridesmaid in three separate weddings. Defending against drunken uncles or trying to remind someone’s seventy-year-old grandfather while slow dancing that their hands still needed to stay on your hips, not your ass.

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~Find motivation for the new school year by making your bed every morning. Getting into the habit of doing small tasks like that puts you in the right mindset to be productive!~

#No R-Agrestes.

A/n: Based on that silly drabble where Marinette lies and Adrien knows…oh and Felix is his older brother. Please blame @miraculousturtle for this.

Ch 1. Why you lying mmmm oh my god, stop fucking lying.

She doesn’t know how she gets herself into these intricately woven fuck-ups. Really she doesn’t.

It doesn’t make them any less painful, the embarrassment of it all eating away at what little pride she has left. She can feel it chipping slowly, devolving into a faded strange thing that she would do anything to protect.

These situations are not made any better by Alya’s overly excited encouragements. She chides Marinette, whispering cliched things like ‘You need to get out more.’ and ‘Come on, you’re only (insert age at the time here) once.’

It is a testament to Marinette’s poor judgement how often these sayings sway her decisions. Through the years from high school up until now, she’s found her lack of discretion something to be worried about…and yet somehow, it always works out.

So it’s how she finds herself here, in a particularly isolated little copse of the Agreste house, rehearsing last minute excuses and lies. She hides behind a particularly enormous porcelain vase with gilded floral designs, hastily scrolling through a list of abbreviated facts on her cracked phone screen. (Another story for another time.)

Marinette lets the words form just barely on her lips, muttering past the din of a thousand casual conversations all woven through with the sweet sounds of a saxophone and lilting piano. It’s a little odd that Nino would perform at this kind of event, since jazz is hardly his usual MO, still she is anything but ungrateful. Sneaking her in under the guise of a sound technician helping out with his equipment had been his birthday gift to her. A bit belated, but she’s been waiting for an opportunity like this for a lifetime.

The chance to meet her one and only inspiration…her idol…the man who threads a thousand colors and brings designs to fruition with a mere flourish of his elegant hands. A man who single handedly built up his brand…whose humble beginnings, like hers, started with a beat up sewing machine and faded sketchbook.

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