navy clutch

daiyanodumpster  asked:

a prompt mayhaps: Viktor is a big-time lingerie designer and Yuuri is a model ;)

finally getting around to this one! s/o to everyone on discord who aided and abetted ;)


In retrospect, it really should have been more obvious. After all, the brand’s name was Secrets by V, for crying out loud.

But at the time of their first meeting, Yuuri had been nothing but nervous. It had been his first shoot as a History Maker – the industry nickname for the beautiful, sexy models of all genders who advertised Secrets by V’s ultra-luxe lingerie. The new campaign that season was fairytale and true love-themed, to better highlight the romantic details on the new Stammi Vicino line. Yuuri had rushed in late that morning, no thanks to the traffic, and then watched as two female models posed together in each other’s arms, clad in coordinated bra and panty sets with wings on their shoulders.

(He’s still not sure how he managed to join their ranks. He’s just too mild-mannered and plain – too Clark Kent, no Superman.)

“Are you looking for something?” someone asked, and Yuuri turned to see the most beautiful man looking at him curiously. His silver fringe was falling into one of his icy blue eyes and he was clad in a simple navy suit, clutching a tray of coffee.

“Y-Yeah!” Yuuri stammered. “I’m the new model? Yuuri Katsuki?”

The man hummed, consulted a clipboard, and nodded, pointing to a door to the side. “Go through there and they’ll get you ready for the shoot.”

Yuuri nodded, his throat feeling more and more like sandpaper the longer he stood there and watched this man scrutinise him. “Th-Thanks,” he said, feeling his face redden. “Are you – do you work here?”

The man raised an eyebrow and nodded.

“Are you in charge of this shoot?” wondered Yuuri.

The man laughed, shaking his head. “No, I’m just watching.”

“So you’re an intern?”

The man’s eyes widened briefly, but he quickly recovered and nodded, laughing. “You could say that,” he said. “I’m Viktor.”

“Yuuri,” said Yuuri, and lost himself in the brilliance of Viktor’s smile as he shook his hand.

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honeycomb

pairing: harry potter x daphne greengrass

setting: canon au


Harry is fourteen, and Daphne Greengrass is nobody.

She’s in a floaty, pastel colored dress—blush or mint or lavender, he doesn’t really notice—and she’s dancing with Nott, spinning around in a tight, gracefully calculated circle, her hair a gleaming wave of perfectly smooth, meticulously styled cornsilk; and she has freckles, maybe, and blue eyes, no green eyes, and she’s slender in a way that looks like it takes effort to maintain, her cheeks the slightest bit too sharp, her ankles the slightest bit too flimsy; and she’s giggling conspiratorially with Parkinson over by the punch bowl and she’s whispering encouragingly to Bulstrode out in the gardens and she’s smiling shyly, no, slyly at one of the older boys from Beauxbatons, letting him kiss her hand and tuck a winter white rose behind her ear, and Harry’s never spoken to Daphne Greengrass before, has never even thought of speaking to Daphne Greengrass before, but—

But he thinks about it, then, fleetingly.

Just for a moment.


Harry is seventeen, and Daphne Greengrass is nobody.

She’s in an anonymous lineup of dusty, mud-spattered Slytherins, tie loose and blouse shredded and skirt singed all along the hem, the holes in her tights ranging in size from pebbles to sickles to fists; and her is cut in short, bluntly messy chunks, right under ears, and there’s a delicate, heart-shaped locket hanging from a silver chain around her neck, and her lips are dry and cracked and trembling as her gaze flicks frantically from one corner of the Great Hall to the other, bypassing the tear-stained Malfoys and the grief-stricken Weasleys and the curse-scarred, still-warm bodies piled high between them; and she’s clutching a navy wool cardigan that looks too clean to be hers, the fragments of a long, willowy wand bunched in her opposite hand, and she’s not crying, no, she’s not screaming or gasping for air or staring listlessly up at the rafters—she’s searching, Harry realizes, she’s waiting, and eventually, a younger Ravenclaw girl with lopsided blonde pigtails come tearing through the crowd, a sob stuck like wet cement in her throat, and Daphne positively crumples, her face and her posture and the narrow, porcelain-fragile arch of her spine, and Harry’s never spoken to Daphne Greengrass before, has never even truly been tempted to, but—

But he thinks about it, then, fleetingly.

Just for a moment.


Harry is twenty-two, and Daphne Greengrass is nobody.

She’s sitting by herself at the very end of the polished, cedar plank bar, a cut-crystal tumbler of vodka or gin or possibly just plain tap water resting on a cocktail napkin in front of her, and she’s wearing a tiny black dress and blood-red stilettos and has her hair dyed a dark, rich auburn, more red than brown in the dim, smoke-shrouded lamplight; and there are diamonds in her ears and wrapped around her wrists and studded through her nose, the dip of her waist less pronounced than he remembers it being, her hips rounder and her breasts fuller, an undeniable softness to her demeanor, to her features, that’s mimicked in the gentle curve of her mouth and the rosy pink of her cheeks; and Harry’s never spoken to Daphne Greengrass before, has never actually, seriously entertained the idea of doing so, but—

“Oh,” she says, suddenly, catching his eye with a curious, somewhat bemused tilt of her chin. Her voice is slower and quieter and higher-pitched than he’d expected it to be. “Harry Potter. Did you need something?”


Harry is still twenty-two, and Daphne Greengrass is—

Important.

The word strikes him as inadequate, almost offensively underwhelming, but he isn’t sure if there is a word for how carefully—hesitantly—radiantly she fits beside him; because there’s the blurry, strawberry-pink line of a pillow crease on her face, already beginning to fade, and long, curling tendrils of hair escaping the sloppy, oddly complicated looking braid she has hooked over her shoulder, and the sunny yellow polish on her nails is flaky around the edges, peeling off in haphazard little slivers, and she’s licking pastry icing off her lips, the tip of her tongue delving in and out of the microscopic, crescent moon chip in her front tooth, and Harry’s fallen in love before, and he’s fallen out of love before, and he’s lived through what he assumes is a fairly average number of breakups and regrets and one-night stands and relationships that were fundamentally impermanent, always, easy enough to ignore, if he wanted to, easy enough to erase, if he needed to, but—

But he thinks about forever, then, fleetingly.

Just for a moment.

And then another one.

And then another one.


First (M)

Hi!!! Can I please request a Baekhyun scenario? Smut please!!! Where it is his girlfriends first time and he wants it to be sweet but intense with really good foreplay? Thank you!!!❤️ p.s. I LOVE your scenarios!!!!!

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2192


“I’m home!” cooed Baekhyun in his sing-song voice as he emerged from the hallway, clutching his navy blue sports bag in his hand. His hair was matted and disheveled with strands sticking out at wild angles, and his skin was glistening with sweat. He aimlessly threw the sports bag aside before he started off towards the couch, where you comfortably sat.

“How was practice?” you asked with a warm smile.

“Good,” he answered with a dangerous smirk. You raised your eyebrow at him as he took a seat beside you.

“I was thinking about you,” he said, lifting his fingers to caress the soft skin of your cheek. He suddenly cupped your head within both his hands and pressed his plump lips against yours. You gladly reciprocated, and threaded your fingers through his messy hair.

He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. You hesitantly parted your lips, allowing him to push his tongue inside. He teased the corners of your mouth with a desperate fervour, but you broke away.

“Baekhyun, what’s gotten into you?” you asked, taking into question his audacious behaviour.

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6

!!!! Hey y'all !!!
Here are a few pictures from a couple days ago. I went out to oyster bay, NY and got a chance to go to the planting fields where I saw a bunch of beautiful plants and thought I would shoot two looks :)

Photos by @bigfat-babe

Look 1.
white tee: h&m
white mesh tee: rainbow
jeans: old navy
shoes: old navy
clutch: michael kors
hat: the hundreds
sunglasses: quay australia

Look 2.
white button down: thrifted
jeans: old navy
shoes: nike

Fall was Lily’s favorite time of year. It all had to do with the warm drinks, falling leaves, and the crispness in the air. Okay really it all had to do with the fact that by the end of it Petunia’s wedding would finally be over and Lily could go back to being the sister that was ignored. Fall was definitely her favorite time of year, for this year at least.

“I told you, Petunia, my dress is navy blue. We agreed I could wear navy blue” Lily clutched her phone to her ear as she made her way down the street, and into the Leaky Cauldron, trying her hardest to keep her voice level. “Petunia, the bridesmaids are wearing cranberry. Navy Blue is on the opposite side of the spectrum. You’re being rid-” Lily was cut off mid sentence as the line went dead. “Perfect” she muttered sliding her phone into her bag as she gave a friendly smile to the bartender, 

“Give me something good. Anything that’ll help me forget the differences between cranberry and rhubarb red”.

Missed Kiss Pt. 3

The third, final, and best chapter of my snowbarry fanfic, Missed Kiss!  enjoy!

Plot: A run-in with Captain Cold and his sister ends up revealing Caitlin’s feelings for Barry to Barry.  How will she handle it?  Better yet, how will he handle it?

Notes: I own nothing.  Enjoy!  And if you really do like it please feel free to like, reblog, or comment!  Thanks!

Link to Pt 1: http://hoffkk.tumblr.com/post/117623361936/missed-kiss

Link to Pt. 2: http://hoffkk.tumblr.com/post/123534020911/missed-kiss-pt-2

*****

Two weeks had passed since her conversation with Cisco, and Caitlin still couldn’t bring herself to tell Barry how she felt.  Not that there was a lot of time to do that anyway.  Wells has been escalating on the evil scale quickly, which is how they found themselves in the current situation: teaming up with Captain Cold.

Wells’ latest plan was going to put the metahumans that Team Flash had already captured in jeopardy. After they all agreed that they couldn’t just let them die, Barry suggested moving them to Oliver Queen’s personal jail on Lian Yu.  The only snag in the plan was they would need back up to make the transition.  Barry then further suggested they ask Captain Cold for help.  After a long argument about it, Barry eventually got his way, and eventually was able to persuade Captain Cold to temporarily join forces with them.  The two of them had struck a deal, and now Cold was in the lab, along with his sister, trying to make a game plan with Barry and the team.

Caitlin was only half listening while she was doing some research on her computer.  Honestly, she wasn’t thrilled to be working with known villains, especially when one of them had previously kidnapped her, but she wanted to be supportive of Barry and his plan.  Besides, if Cisco and Joe could agree to working with them, then she could too, no matter how reluctant the agreement may be.

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Sweet Dreams

“I don’t care what the doctors say, Carter,” Jack Thompson fumed as Peggy pressed her palms against his shoulders in an attempt to prevent him from rising from his hospital bed and doing God only knew what damage to his chest.  “I don’t wanna rest; I wanna get the sonovabitch who put me here!”

Peggy stared deep into the struggling man’s blue eyes and fixed him with a very serious gaze.  “Jack, do you trust me?” Peggy asked, her voice low as though she were about to relate a precious secret to him.

“That mean you got a plan, Marge?” Jack replied almost too quickly.  He had stopped struggling, and he had gone still in the same way as a predator who had scented prey.  Chief Thompson was readying himself for action. 

“Give me a moment to make sure the coast is clear.  Just pretend to be following the doctor’s orders in case anyone comes in unexpectedly,” Peggy whispered to him.    She looked over her shoulder as though making sure they were truly alone.  “Won’t be a tick,” Peggy said as she rose from the edge of his bed and hurried through the door and into the hall. 

As soon as she was out of Jack’s view, she pressed herself against the wall and opened her navy blue clutch.  She fished around for a few moments before she found the gold tube of lipstick that she still kept for emergencies.  She applied it as quickly as possible using a small compact to check that it was neat and wouldn’t arouse suspicion. 

She counted to thirty before ducking back into Jack’s room, and she crossed hurriedly to his bedside again. 

“We set to go?” Jack asked, struggling to sit up.

“Wait!” Peggy ordered.  “Give me a moment to disconnect the monitors so we don’t alert the staff,” she explained as she leaned over Jack, using the proximity of her own body to force him to lie back. 

Jack stared agape at her; and, before he could say whatever was on his mind,
Peggy placed her hands on his cheeks and kissed him soundly.  She was surprised to feel Jack kissing her back, and she could feel her body respond in unexpectedly hungry ways as Jack’s stubble tickled along her cheek and his tongue caressed hers.  She felt as though she were back on the rollercoaster at Coney Island–her body slowly filling with a growing tension building to a peak that was quickly followed by the sensation of freefalling into her own desires. 

It was over all too quickly, and Peggy found herself studying Jack’s sleeping face as she tried to sort through the whirl of emotions that the kiss had stirred in her.  Truthfully, she could have found any number of ways to stop the troublesome man from leaving the hospital.  The thought that she might have lost him had shaken her in ways she didn’t like to admit.  It had left her questioning decisions that had seemed clear just days ago. 

“Sweet dreams, Jack.  Next time, we’ll have to try that with regular lipstick,” she vowed, and a smile crossed her lips.   

SHEIN’S CLEARANCE STOCK - everything on sale! [♥]

beautiful dresses: burgundy winter dress // blue vintage dress [♥] // black dress //  black&white dress // white bodycon dress // burgundy turtleneck dress // pink winter dress // pink&white bodycon dress // floral dress

purses&bags: black backpack // red shoulder bag [♥] // grey shoulder bag // teddy bear purse // white wallet clutch // navy tote bag // mini floral backpack

coats and jackets: red winter coat // grey jacket [♥] // black poncho // chevron print vest // floral long coat // red lapel coat [♥] // red winter army coat // blue winter slim coat // navy woolen coat [♥] // black winter coat

more dresses here // more coats&jackets here // more bags here

Preference #13 You Tell Him He’s Gonna Be A Daddy

Scott: The third Friday night of each month Melissa McCall was free to spend the night watching a marathon of newly released films and drowning the week’s stress in junk food with you and Scott. Family ‘bonding time’ was a rare occurrence in the McCall household due to Mama McCall’s demanding profession and the supernatural drama. Melissa abandoned movie night after an emergency phone call from the hospital, apologizing profusely about leaving as she ascended the staircase in a hurry to change into her scrubs for the night. With Melissa’s absence the night’s plans changed, the movies forgotten as you agreed on playing board games instead. Scott’s suspicious cinnamon flecked cappuccino irises analyzed each obscure response to his existence during the last week; subtle flinches away from affection, preoccupied thoughts, mysterious excuses to avoid companionship. The dulled thud of cardboard toppling from the shelf of the hallway closet interrupted the eerie silence, a lopsided grin on his handsome face as the werewolf clutched your favorite board game against his athletic chest; Scrabble.

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2

request:“ Calum sees someone flirting with you at a bar and gets over protective jaw clenching flexing all that fluff 💛”

LOVED WRITING THIS NGL - written for @kingsleyofficial
———————————

Calum held the door open to the bar as you walked through clutching the navy blue jacket he had given you to cover you from the cold air outside. It was getting dark which meant the beautiful weather had turned freezing. It was a classy bar, known for a few celebrity spottings which meant you and Calum had already planned your escape if one too many fans got in. Calum loved the fans but he just wanted to treat you tonight…

“My lady” he bowed as he offered to take the jacket off you,

“You’re such a dork” you reply shoving him in the chest lightly as you pass him his folded coat. He grinned flashing his dimples across his beautiful dark skin. You headed over to the bar sitting on the stool, Calum followed you with his hand placed on your lower back. No matter where you were he loved showing people his girl, placing his hand either on a shoulder, in your hand, round your waist or even just your pinky fingers intertwined. Calum edged his seat closer to you pulling out his phone,

“Y/n babe I need to show you this picture of Michael it’s amazing one second” he said scrolling through his photo album, you glanced across as he was scrolling and you saw the endless selfies of you two being adorable. You turn back to the bar and the waiter turned at the same time,

“Hello beautiful what can I get something like you to drink? Perhaps a sex on the beach?” He said smirking at his own joke, his balding hair and wrinkled forehead made you almost feel bad for him,

“Well if the offer is on the table then why not?” You say winking at him before grinning the smile that Calum loved so much. He turns away and starts busying himself clanking glasses and bottles,

You turned back to Calum who’s brows had furrowed, you saw his jaw shift from relaxed to tensed,

“Babe?” You questioned placing your hand on his large forearm,

“Did you wink at him?” He questioned adjusting how far his sleeves on his shirt where rolled up, you rubbed small circles into his arm,

“Yeah but only as a laugh, I feel bad for the guy, it’s alright babe?” You smiled quizzically unsure is he was calm yet. He placed his hand over yours and trained his eye on the barmen who came back over with the drink,

“For the lady” he said smiling like crazy, Calum straight away pulled your hand onto the bar interlocking your hands and almost challenging the waiter, he looked proud to be holding your hand in front of him, the waiter saw and then glanced back at you before Turing away to another customer,

“Calum….” You said softly, “jealousy?” You added, he clenched his jaw again sending his upper arms to tense anytime the waiter turned round, but you soon realised he did it any time a guy looked across at you.

“Y/n I love you. I physically can’t sit here without every guy that’s leering at you knowing you’re mine,” his arm moved from your hand to around your shoulder.

“Calum.. You know I love you so much… You’re my little bass boy. You’re just a cute little punk bless you” you leaned over and kissed his cheek, before you realised he turned his face to yours and met your lips. His hand held your face in place as he continued kissing you while your hand was clasping his shirt,

“Wanna leave? ” he mutters,

“I gotta pay for my drink babes haha” you giggle seeing him look pleadingly, you knew he wanted to go so you left a five dollar bill on the table and stood up, he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you close so your back was touching his he bang kissing your neck before turning to the bartender and smirking, his hand traced down to cup your bum as the bouncer held the door for you two.

You where met with flashing bulbs and Calum immediately let go of your bum and interlocked your hands, you ducked not wanting to be plastered on twitter as “some girl” Calum started giggling as the private car door was swung open and you both toppled inside, the door was closed and Calum fell on top of you, you both where a giggling mess until you sat up to bring your face to Calum.

“You’re so beautiful” he muttered, stroking your cheek down to your neck, then across your shoulder.

“You’re really hot when your jealous you know…,” you replied,

“Don’t tease me baby” he breathed heavily clenching his jaw….