royal-blue-suit

all the president’s rubies (victuuri)

i believe it was @katsukiyuuristrophyhusband​ who was saying that of all the theories in victor “my husband” nikiforov, they would probably roleplay at least the first three.  so i thought about it when i went on a run, and here we are:



The man he sees across the room fits in too perfectly; lean body in a royal blue Isaia suit that’s tailored to aching perfection, the inseam of the trouser cut short to reveal a scandalous sliver of bare ankle, and a white band collar shirt instead of a traditional button down to accentuate his long neck.  The man is quintessential classics with the precise amount of unorthodox edge to suggest he is a man who is always on the precipice of something.

He watches the man run his fingers through his silver hair like lavish strands of spiders’ silk.  The man screams expensive.  How many millions of dollars would you be holding in your hands if you had this man underneath you?

He must be brave.  There’s no time to waste.  He steps across the ballroom and into the man’s social circle with his chest out like he belongs there.

“Katsuji Yuuta,” he introduces himself.  “May I buy you a drink?”

“Vitaly Nikonov,” the man replies, smiling. “And I already have a drink.  But you may keep me company.”


“What are they doing?” Yuri whispers a little too loud, watching Katsuki slink over to where Victor is talking to a handful of sponsors.  

“Maybe this is like that banquet where they pretended they were meeting again for the first time,” Otabek offers, stealing a stuffed mushroom from Yuri’s plate and popping it into his mouth.  He licks at the grease left on the tip of his thumb. “Remember that last year?  They even brought that old tie and Victor cried when he tied it around Katsuki’s head like a crown.”

Mila laughs into her champagne flute and Yuri suppresses a shiver. 

“This feels worse than that.  This feels,” he says, pauses, curls his nose, “this feels weirder.”


“So what brings you here?” Vitaly Nikonov asks, rolling his wrist and watching the maraschino cherry swirl around in his manhattan. “I haven’t seen you around.” 

“Funny,” Katsuji Yuuta says, and he looks Vitaly Nikonov up and down like a question and an answer all at once. He tilts his head at the group Vitaly’s with and takes a swig of his own champagne. “I thought we might be here for the same reasons.  But I see you here, and suddenly I can’t remember why I came.”

“Oh, Mr. Katsuji,” Vitaly says, voice lowering. “I don’t think you’ve come close to coming yet.”

“Uh, guys,” says Mark from Sony, bumping a fist on Vitaly’s shoulder.  “Victor?  Yuuri?  I’m gonna–me and the boys, we’re gonna, uh, step away for awhile.”

Vitaly Nikonov hums as if Mark from Sony is very, very far away.  He can see nothing else but Katsuji Yuuta’s soulful, brown eyes.  


“Spies!” Mila does not squeal as she runs back to Otabek and Yuri with a refreshed drink and a plate of bacon wrapped scallops.  “They’re pretending they’re rival spies.  Or maybe Yuuri’s a honeypot?  I don’t know, all I could hear is them talking about trading intel upstairs and–”

“Gross,” Yuri says, stealing her champagne and downing it in one gulp.  Yuuri and Victor at banquets are going to drive him to an early retirement.  Next to him, Otabek is stoically looking at the chandelier over their table, trying not to laugh.  


“Mr. Katsuji!” Victor moans dramatically, his band collar shirt torn open, buttons flown across the room.  “Oh, if our agencies found us this way, they would kill us!”

“Stop!” Yuuri laughs on top of him, tucking his face away in the curve of Victor’s neck.  “Now it just sounds stupid.”

“We must run away together!” Victor says, rolling his hips up to greet the inviting curve of Yuuri’s ass through his briefs.  “Change our names!  Go into hiding!  The two of us against the world!”

“Victor, you said if I won gold you would take this seriously,” Yuuri whines, and he nibbles at the soft of Victor’s earlobe to make him gasp and still.  

“I am taking this seriously,” Victor says softly underneath him.  He rolls his hips up slower this time, a little more sluggish drag to prove how earnestly invested he is, dick hard and needy between the undone fly of his own pants.  “I was going to tell you of a bungalow I know tucked away off the coast of Bali.  We’ll think up new identities.  You can be Yuuri Katsuki.  I’ll be Victor Nikiforov.  Former figure skating champions.  We’ll fall asleep to the sound of waves every night, and no one will ever find us.  What do you think?” 

Yuuri grinds his ass down where Victor is waiting for him.  “I think you should keep going.”

3

THE 25 MOST POWERFUL STYLISTS IN HOLLYWOOD

6 /25
Ilaria Urbinati

Clients:
Tom Hiddleston, Casey Affleck, Donald Glover, James Marsden, Nina Dobrev, Bradley Cooper, Anya Taylor-Joy

Why she matters:
For many of the town’s most dashing gents, Urbinati turns out timeless menswear with a twist, using color, pattern and sometimes tailored separates instead of suits. “I had 15 people Oscar night, including two winners,” namely, best director Damien Chazelle and best actor Affleck. “It was nuts!”

Top looks:
The former clothing buyer’s choices included Gucci DIY tuxes with piping for Hiddleston at the Emmys, and in brown velvet for Atlanta two-time Globe winner Glover, 31 (“I don’t know anyone who could have pulled that off better,” says Urbinati). She also avoided playing it safe with Manchester by the Sea’s Affleck, 41, at the Spirit Awards: “When the Muslim ban happened, Casey took a baseball shirt to be embroidered with ‘Love’ on it in Arabic. He wore it under a royal blue Brioni suit. Twitter went nuts, and I was so proud.”

Ruin The Friendship (part III)

Title: Ruin The Friendship (mini-series) Part 3

Word-Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Jay Park/ Reader (kinda)

Summary: Best friends to lovers. Inspired by Ruin The Friendship - Demi Lovato.

Genre: Smutty Fluff

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4



There’s a picture of me on Jay Park’s Instagram.

This wouldn’t be the first time. He used to post dumb pictures of me edited to look like I had a mustache or drawn on huge boobs. This picture isn’t like that. Taken the last night Jay was home almost a week ago, it’s hard to tell who exactly is in the picture. I’m lying on my chest, my bare back facing the camera while my hair fans out messily covering my face. Posted with a black and white filter, the photo looks too intimate to be just anyone.

He’d disabled the comment section so I’m spared any attack from some of his more “protective” fans. I reread the caption, unable to stop the silly grin from taking up my face. I look around making sure my assistant, Bora, isn’t around to tease me yet again for being infatuated.

As always, I miss her the most.

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Valentine’s One Shot

Bit of a one shot for Valentine’s Day. It’s super fluffy and a pinch of dirtiness (no smut but it’s a def NSFW piece!) 


                                               The Gift of a Rose

Harley wiped her eyes as the credits of the movie scrolled up the screen, Lou sat whining on his owner’s lap, licking and nuzzling her cheek with his wet nose. “Eeww, Lou! I’m fine sweetie, honestly. Mommy is crying because she’s happy for Belle and Beast because they’re all..sniff…In love…sniff…And they are….ha-a-pp-y” Harley inhales loudly as another wave of emotions pour from her, she pulls Lou into her lap further and sobs into his fur.

Harley had been sitting on the sofa watching Disney movies for the last three days, she’d seen no hind or hair of the Joker since Wednesday - since their big fight. Fights were pretty common in their relationship, they added fun, danger, lust; both sides enjoyed them when they arose as usually they always ended in great make-up sex. But not this time, this one had been different - The Joker had walked away first. The topic had been about today, Valentine’s Day, and as per usual Harley had set her heart on something special between the two of them, she’d psyched herself up to a romantic date for just them, only to be told he had plans - with the Bat.

“Always the fucking Bat with you, isn’t it? I swear one of these days I wouldn’t be surprised to find you with his cock in your mouth! You clearly prefer being man-handled by a grown man in a costume than you do in your girlfriend out of hers! Well, good news for you - enjoy your Valentine’s Day with him and every other day afterwards as I’m fucking done. I’m done fucking you.  I’m done fighting with you, I’m done fighting for you - I’ve lost this round, you win. I’m knocked out of whatever competition you’ve set up in that head of yours between me and the Bat who are constantly fighting for your attention. Don’t bother ringing the bell, he’s always the winner.”

Harley’s eyes stung as she remembered the look on his face; he stood staring at her, his nostrils pulsing as he inhaled and exhaled quickly. She recalled the way he shook his head in the gentlest of motion as he lifted his finger and pointed to her, his mouth open ready to shout back but instead he lowered it and shrugged his shoulders before turning on his heel, leaving the room and closing the door behind him - nothing had been seen or heard from him since. Harley’s heart had broken that evening, she wanted him so much to fight back, to fight for her, to prove to her she meant something to him that she was the focus of his world, that if he had to choose it would always be her. But as the clock ticked nine and there was still no sign of him she nudged Lou softly from her lap, stood up and wiped her eyes heading into the kitchen for more chocolate ice cream.

Lou and Bud lay around in the living room waiting impatiently for Harley to return to them. Lou was the first to react to the front door being opened, his hackles raised and his lips curling to a snarl - he didn’t recognise the footsteps walking through the house and approaching the kitchen. Bud jumped up from his position on the floor and joined his brother, snarling and growling with anger as they both stood in front of the kitchen door, “Hey boys, I won’t be a moment, I’m coming out no–” Harley’s voice was quickly cut off and the only sound from the house was that of scratching against the door and vicious barking from two very angry hyenas ready to attack whomever had just taken kidnapped their mommy.

~~~***~~~

Harley awoke with a groan, her head was spinning but after so much practice fighting the Bat and the number of concussions she had waded through she knew how to handle herself. After five minutes had passed of deep breathing she slowly began to open her eyes and found she was staring up at a ceiling she didn’t recognise, turning her head to look around the room gave her no clues as to where she was. Propping herself onto her elbows she inhaled deeply and began to count down from ten.

Harley closed her eyes and spoke aloud, “Last thing I remember…Think Harley, think. I was at home. Lou and Bud were with me. I’d  just eaten a tub of ice cream. There was a movie on…What was it…” Harley groaned as she flopped back onto her back, “Beauty and the Beast. So how the fuck have I ended up here?” She questioned out loud as she slowly started to push herself to her feet, her legs felt like jelly as she placed her feet onto the stone floor, yelping and pulling them back under her. “And why am I not wearing any socks!?…Or pants… Oh…Shi-” Harley quickly checked over herself, there was nothing to suggest she had been assaulted and her underwear was all in tact, her t-shirt was scuffed with dirt and her pants lay opposite sprawled across a chair next to a wooden desk.

Harley pushed herself to her feet again and tip-toed over to the desk, attempting and failing to ignore the cold surface beneath her. As she approached the desk she could see a piece of paper folded upon it, “Harley” was scribbled across in childlike handwriting, confused she grabbed the paper first, ignoring the pants though her legs were begging to be covered in their warmth. Reading the note through she gasped, her eyes filling with tears as she let the note drop slowly to the floor.

~~~ *** ~~~

Harley approached the door after hearing it unlock, pushing it open and stepping out, she shivered slightly at the crisp air as it licked her bare skin. She could hear the lively life of Gotham around her as she realised she was somewhere outside, but where, she didn’t know her eyes began darting around before they settled on a shadow where some shuffling was heard.

“Finally, you have awoken and decided to join the living again” A voice called out from the shadows behind a pillar to her side, Harley frowned and stepped forward.

“Hello? Mistah J…? Is that you?” Harley called out, trying to keep her voice steady though her nerves were shaking and her lip trembled with cold.

A large, heavy set man Harley didn’t recognise, stepped forward. “Good Evening, Miss Quinn. If you would please follow me I shall take you to where you’re expected.” He bowed at his waist and pointed towards the shadows, Harley didn’t move. “Nah-uh, I ain’t stupid Mister. Tell me where I am and what I’m doin’ here or I ain’t goin’ no-where, ya hear me!” Harley’s Brooklyn accent becoming stronger the more nervous she became, the man simply smiled at her. “Miss Quinn, I assure you there is no harm coming your way, now please - for the sake of my own neck and yours, follow me.” The man bowed at his waist again, Harley sniffed and stepped forward, “You first, I ain’ getting stabbed in the back if you’re in front of me.” The man’s smile faded with a small nod he stood up and began to walk into the depths of the shadows, Harley could make out the shape of a doorframe with a flickering light shining from beneath it a few yards ahead of them. “Where am I?” Harley asked again, the man looked over his shoulder and grinned widely, he placed his hand upon the door knob and began to open it.

Harley stepped through the door, her eyes shone with light as she took in the hundreds of candles flickering around her, the pillars had them hanging from holders, above her hung three huge diamond chandeliers, even the floor had hundreds of small tealights laid out to lead her to the centre of the room.

Harley gasped as her eyes fell upon the figure in the centre, the candle light flickering and causing shadows to cover the majority of their body. Stepping forward to gain a clearer view Harley could hear the door behind her click closed as she watched the body move closer into the light. It was the Joker in a royal blue suit - the same as the one worn by Beast in her favourite Disney movie. In his hand he held a black and red rose, he approached her and gave his most charming smile, “Happy Valentine’s Day baby! You look so good I could just eat every inch of you.”

Harley was wearing the dress the note had instructed her to. A long ballroom gown, with a strapless black bodice with red diamond shapes upon either side, sparkling with rubies cut into the material. Cascading down into shimmering waves of a ruby red sweep train, the underlining of the dress had a pattern of alternating black and red diamond shapes; very much the representation of the Harlequin. Her hair she had pulled to sit in a bun upon her head with a diamond trim she had found upon the desk, along with a wide selection of makeup. Harley had opted for ruby red lips, dark red eyeshadow - against her naturally pale complexion her features were radiant.

The Joker’s silver grin caught the candle lights and gleamed as he stepped forward, leaning to Harley’s ear he whispered, “That’s just what I plan on doing to you later” with a snake-like flick of his tongue upon her ear he stepped back in front of her as Harley desperately tried to catch her breath and calm the sheer throbbing that was taking of her whole body.

“P-P-Puddin’?”  Harley managed to whisper as she watched him take her hand, kissing the knuckles, he brought up the rose and placed it within her hands. “It’s always you, Harley. Until the last petal falls.” Harley’s eyes sparkled with glee as he spoke, though the feeling was quickly replaced with a frow - although the romantic gesture meant so much to her she knew the rose would eventually lose the final petal and unlike that within the movie, this rose wasn’t enchanted, nor the Joker a beast.

The Joker’s grin widen and he giggled softly, “Now Harley, you know I only like to see you smile, perhaps a little dance would help?”  The Joker dipped his hand into his jacket, bringing a remote from his pocket he clicked one button and suddenly music began to play from a small set of speakers that were scattered around the room. He clicked another button and the large drapes that had been hung from the ceilings fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, Harley gasped as she looked around the area again - they were on the top of the bell tower of Gotham City! Harley knew this place from previous heists, no wonder she could hear the traffic from below, they were high enough up to see the blanket of stars that currently twinkled in the night sky as the moonlight shone into their own personal candlelit heaven.

Harley’s heart soured as the Joker came towards her, pocketing the remote, he took his hand in hers and with a gentle kiss of the knuckles asked, “Tell me, Harley-girl, have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?”  

Harley felt her cheeks flush warmth with a red glow as the Joker’s arm came around her waist, his other hand taking hers within his, she could feel the gold of his rings rubbing against the softness of her skin as their fingers entwined into one. Harley brought her free hand up to rest upon his forearm, he pulled her closer towards his chest, her heartbeat racing as he took the lead and stepped into their dance. The Joker was the perfect dancer, Harley knew from previous experiences at heists where they had been dressed as guests or performers that he could dance, she just didn’t know how well until he waltzed her around the floor of the bell tower. As their steps became one, the gown flowed behind her with a rippling wave of colours, it felt luxurious upon her skin and for a few moments she forgot everyone except for her and her Prince Charming who in turn was smiling down to her.

As their song came to an end the steps of the two slowed, the Joker dipped Harley at her waist and looked deep into her eyes before he brushed his lips against hers, she could feel his smile as he leaned further into her and enveloped her lips with a kiss so strong her toes curled. “That was fun, but a little too boring for me, how about we spark things up a bit” The Joker asked as he pulled her up to a stand, his grin wide and devilish as his hand dipped back into his coat jacket and pressed the remote. The music changed quickly to Harley’s favourite song, a thumping beat of drum and bass with a Latino mix; she couldn’t help but squeal and bounce up and down in excitement as the Joker placed his hands back upon her waist and thrust her towards him so their hips became one as the music began.

Harley turned upon her heel so her back was flat against his chest, reaching up her hand she ran it through his hair. The Joker in turn brought his hand from being entwined with hers, running fingertips down her arm in a slow manner causing goosebumps to ripple upon her pale skin, his hand brushes over her naked collarbone and as it brushes against the side of her breast she gasped, the Joker’s grin nudging against her cheek bone. His hand continued to waver down her body with his spider-like touches until he placed his hand firmly upon her flat stomach, pushing himself harder against her back, she could feel his groin brushing her bum through the satin gown, its thin material offering little in protection from the heat of his body, she couldn’t hold back her delighted moan as his hot breath hitched against her ear.

As the music picks up its pace Harley swings her hips in time, seductively brushing against the Joker’s groin as she does, biting upon her bottom lip as she hears a deep throaty growl. The Joker begins to gyrate against her, his groin moving in rhythmic flow with her own. Harley turns herself to face him, their eyes meeting and the burning heat is apparent between the two as she lifts her leg to hook around his waist, the Joker supporting her with his hand under her bare thigh and the other upon her hips. He dips her low, his head following her body as he brushes his lips down her jawline, slowly down her neck before placing a gentle kiss upon her clavicle, his hot breath flowing like a river down her panting chest as he continues down towards the plunging cleavage her dress provides.

“Delicious.” The Joker grins as he blows a wisp of cool air over her breasts causing Harley to breath in sharply, his wet kiss upon her skin making her grasp his jacket tightly as her legs weakened, a shared moan escaping into the air.

The Joker pulls himself back into a standing position, his hand massaging the bare skin of Harley’s thigh as he grinds his waist against hers, she can feel he is enjoying it as much as she is. The two of them hold eye contact as he pulls her up towards him, as her foot hits the ground he begins to tango. Harley’s heart pounds to the beat of her footsteps as the Joker takes them around the rooftop again, his grip upon her strong and possessive as he leads; breathless from the sheer energy they share but also the intense heat growing through her body and pooling at her groin has her head spinning.

Finally, as the song comes to an end the Joker pushes her towards one of the stone pillars. Forcing her up against it she moans out in delight as the mix of pain from the grinding stone against her bare shoulders and the feral glare in the Joker’s eyes catches her breath again. The Joker grabs her foot and brings it up to wrap around his waist again, a lustful growl rattles through his rib-cage and direct through to her heart.

“Mmm, Harley…” The Joker pounces upon her, his kisses trailing up her neck so quick her pulse can’t keep up as he loops his tongue around her earlobe and pulls upon it gently. “I can’t wait to get you home and have you out of that dress.” Harley’s eyes roll into her head as she leans back, tilting her head to provide him as much bare skin as she can, he takes the invite covering more of her neck with bites.

One hand begins to move up the side of her dress, as he tiptoes his fingers along her side and drags them across the front of her bare shoulders from one side to another, his tongue every so often flicking at the path left behind. Bringing his hand down slowly to cup around one breast, kneading and pushing it upwards into her dress she was sure would pop with his strength as her moaning becomes louder and gasps of pleasure frequent the air. Her nipples were hard against the satin material as he pinched at one, rolling it between his fingertips she couldn’t help but cry out, his kisses upon her neck forming to a wide grin of delight.

His other hand had moved to settle upon her inner thigh creeping slowly towards the laced red thong, he loops his finger underneath and begins to tease her skin in circular motions. “This will be my tongue upon you.” He breathes into her ear, her gasping for breath now a cocktail of moaning and lustful whispers of his name, “Mr J.. Oh please..I can’t…”

“Can’t what Harley?” He grins against her cheek as she runs her hand through his hair, she’s lost as to where else to place them as he steals away another brain cell by moving his hand slowly around her bare skin and cups her buttocks in his hand, growling lustfully.

“I can’t wait until we’re home, please…I need this. I need you.” Harley pants, her fingers grasping and scraping at his skull, pulling at his jacket in a lust fueled need.

The Joker pulls back as he purrs with delight, he pulls out the remote again and presses a button upon it. “Five minutes and seven seconds, Harley. That’s all you need to wait.”Harley licks the drool from her lips in anticipation of what is coming next, but finds herself disappointed as the Joker releases her leg to allow her to stand on very wobbly legs. He holds her up with his hand upon her waist, grinning like a Cheshire cat as the sound of a helicopter is heard coming closer to them.

Nudging Harley in front of him, he leans down to whisper in her ear as the helicopter came close and a rope was thrown out, “Home time, you go first as I have the perfect view from underneath” The Joker grinned, kissing Harley on the cheek, “I can’t wait to fuck those remaining brain cells of yours out and ruin this dress. I much prefer you in that skin tight outfit after all.” He growled as she grabbed onto the rope and the henchman pulled her up, the Joker following closely behind.

~~~ *** ~~~

The two had arrived home in five minutes and seven seconds just as the Joker promised. They fucked like rabbits, every room in the house had been introduced to their antics. The henchmen had left them at the door knowing fine well they didn’t want to be around the two clowns when they got down and dirty with one another.

As Harley began to drift to sleep, her head upon the Joker’s chest and his strong arms wrapped around her she noticed a small area of skin was redder than the rest, though she’d been more than active with her teeth she hadn’t gotten to his chest. Confused, she pushed herself up from him slightly to allow the moonlight to cast a glow upon his pale skin the redness was surrounding a small tattoo which Harley didn’t recognise. Upon closer inspection, Harley’s heart swelled.

Leaning down to him she placed a gentle kiss upon the tattoo of a red petal over his heart.

Desperation (Part 1) - Nevada Ramirez

P/N: Gif isn’t mine.

Nevada Ramirez x Reader
Summary: The reader is working in one of Nevada’s clubs. She gets herself into a bit of trouble, which costs her job.


It was a Saturday night, the busiest night of the week. The shimmer of sequined attire and glittery makeup shone under the disco lights. The floor shook as music blared excessively loud. The air smelled like a mixture of sweat, humidity, smoke and various fragrances. Every corner of the club were packed with people intoxicated by alcohol and excitement.

In a VIP booth, a couple of waitresses dressed in skin-tight dresses bring bottles of liquor to a table. A wealthy older man was surrounded by beautiful young women, all fawning over him. He donned a royal blue suit with hints of gold accents. His gold watch shone as his hand danced around the curves of every female companion. His hands were smothered with custom rings. A passing glance of this gentleman was enough to determine the man’s wealth.

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Surrender: Part One

Summary: As a flight attendant, you’d traveled all over the world. You’d never thought you could meet someone who could take you somewhere you hadn’t already been. 

Characters: Bucky Barnes x reader, Natasha, Steve, [more to be added]

Warnings: [all tags are eventual and not just for this part] smut, angst, fluff, violence, cursing, possible death, possible murder, crime, idfk… reader beware.

Word Count: 1.8K+ 

A/N: This is a new drab series I’m working on. The first part is WAYYY long but the next parts will be 500-1000 words. I’d LOVE to hear what you think. I had a lot of issues with tagging so you would like to track this series whitelist this #surrenderingbucky. Thank you to @sebbytrash, @bionic-buckyb, and @bovaria for looking this over for me! 


Originally posted by iammrbillabong

“This is the final boarding call for American Airlines flight C275 to Seattle.” The speaker crackles as the annoyed desk agent throws the handset of her phone down onto the receiver.

The uneven clacking of your heels against the marble floor, your rolling suitcase, and the constant stream of curse words flowing through your brain create a beautifully stressful symphony, as you rush forward. You pause to kick off the broken pumps, sliding into your ‘comfy’ shoes which resembled fashion at a shuffleboard tournament, and whimpering as you approached the gate desk.

“Late, again.” The agent behind the counter furrows her brow. “Why haven’t they fired you yet?”

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It's Daddy To You (Ashton Irwin Smut)

Another Daddy Ash smut bc let’s be real there’s never too much Daddy Ashton so prepare yourself this one’s a steamer!

Not requested…sorta. I wrote this and then someone wanted more daddy ashton lol

Rated R obviously

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7

WHO AND WHAT IS TAILOR CAID


Tailor CAID is Yamamoto-san, a master tailor based in Tokyo, who specializes in American Ivy Style (think Mad Men) but is also very capable of other styles. He is a bespoke tailor in the truest sense of the word, tweaking every detail specifically for each individual customer. He excels in creating drape in the chest of his garments, bringing every jacket to life.


I shot some photos to illustrate the gamut of what Yamamoto-san can do:


On the left, an American Ivy Style three button suit. It features a slim lapel, straight, cutaway quarters and a soft shoulder. It has no darts in the body, making the silhouette  This particular suit was made in a royal blue herringbone. This suit is designed for business use, eschewing sporty details, such as swelled edges at the lapel, and keeping it simple.


Second from left, an American Ivy Style three button suit but made-up in a much sportier cloth and with details to match. The cloth is a very textured grey herringbone tweed. The lapels, while the same size as the business suit from earlier, have swelled edges and the pockets are done as patches with flaps. The suit is great for everyday use and the jacket and vest can be split off for use on their own in more casual outfits with denim or odd trousers.


In the center, a 30’s style peak lapelled suit. It has wide, straight lapels with a large collar. The chest is draped and there are darts in the body, giving a very defined silhouette. The cloth is a medium weight wool mohair in navy. It is a perfect suit for occasions and events.


Second from the right, is another 30’s style, known as the “paddock jacket”, later popularized by John F Kennedy. Paddock jackets are two button jackets with both buttons designed to be buttoned at the same time, rather than the commonly seen middle button only configuration. The cloth is an unusual design, a country pattern but in cooler, city colours.


All the way to the right is a suit in the same configuration as the grey herringbone tweed but in an aubergine wool/cashmere mix. The jacket was done as a typical sport jacket, with swelled edges and patch with flap pockets. The jacket alone could be worn very beautifully with grey flannel trousers. Not the most practical suit in the world, but certainly unusual and beautiful in its own way, as you’d expect from bespoke!


Tailor CAID’s overcoat is distinctive as well, based on the box coat from the 50’s. It features distinctive details such as swelled edges, a forward-set ticket pocket and turnback cuffs. The length extends to below the knee. It is a dramatic coat, beautiful in motion. It works well as a casual coat in heavy tweeds as pictured or it could be a serious workhorse in navy wool herringbone.


TRUNK SHOW AT THE ARMOURY NYC SEP 15 - 17

APPOINTMENTS CAN BE MADE AT TRIBECA@THEARMOURY.COM

slate.com
Marvel Made a Woman-Led, Anti-Sexist Superhero Show. It’s Mostly About Men.

After obligatory flashbacks to 2011’s Captain America: The First Avenger, from which ABC’s new period entertainment/marketing opportunity/sleep aid Agent Carter springs, Agent Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) struts into the top secret offices of the Strategic Scientific Reserve in a royal-blue skirt suit with a bright-red hat cocked at a jaunty…

In which Slate drops the feminism ball so hard that it bounces up and smacks them straight in the face.

What sort of a feminist character would Peggy Carter be if she needed “respect” or “credit” from small-minded, misogynistic male coworkers? That’s like saying men gave women suffrage. Men gave women the right to vote. No, women freaking TOOK that shit and said THIS IS OURS.

Post-WWII was one of the biggest periods of regression in feminism ever. And to expect Peggy Carter to kick the door in and demand proper respect from a room full of men who most likely have hero complexes from being overseas and winning a war, while also most likely having warped notions of the female sex, is just about as unrealistic as romance novels with 18th century heroines who act like 21st century women and get away with it. 

What makes Agent Carter heroic is her ability to pick her battles. There’s no use arguing with children. There’s no use playing into their imbecility. And at one point she basically says as much. Yes, every single time, her coworkers walk away all smirkish and smarmy thinking they’ve gotten the upper hand…but the show makes a point of showing that Peggy still wins the day. And it doesn’t matter whether or not the misogynistic characters recognize she’s won.

What matters is that Peggy is able to keep up a balancing act in order to do her job. Because that’s the most important thing for her. Sure, she longs for a time when men and women are equal, a time when she’d be respected and taken seriously. But that time isn’t now. (Even in 2015, there’s a crap load of work to be done.) So instead of actively fighting and basically arguing with a brick wall, she sticks to her sharp wit and incredible skill, silently outsmarting them, and basically getting her job done

That, to me, is pure feminism. Doing what she has to do to get the job done. Dealing with insults and idiotic comments and assumptions and sexism…and doing her work with more efficiency than the men. Without begging for credit or respect. She’s a woman who’s WORKING. 

That is God damn feminism.

A woman who is WORKING, in spite of anti-woman/equality circumstances, in spite of being surrounded by men who try to cut her down at every turn. A woman who is taking her job by the horns and doing whatever needs to be done in order to make her mark on the world, whether some stuffshirt greasy-haired SSR captain acknowledges her or not.

FEMINISM.

Slate, I’m disappointed in you.

eyesoneme  asked:

I want to give you a high five for dedicating your time & effort for this blog! I'm a fashion expert & I think what you're doing is commendable! I still think Timothèe's fashion choices are 110% on point! I loved his royal blue suit, his pink coat, I loved his all black suits of late.. no wrong ones there! As for Armie, he can pull off classic looks, suits like no other! I've seen a picture of him wearing a red suit & I fuckin' loved it! Keep up the good work babe xxx

thank you so much for this message! I adore little timmy’s style so much and made this blog in one afternoon :D Although I have to say my followers are very helpful with everything I can’t find. Armie’s so stylish too and I prefer him in a good old double-breasted suit while Timmy is a little edgier. Maybe I can post some of his looks if I can we’ll see. xoxo

Soldatin Pt 10

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9

Part 11   Part 12   Part 13    Part 14   Part 15

Summary: Your jealousy is heightened when Bucky continues to be distracted from you during Tony’s Birthday Gala. You find yourself entertaining new opportunities the next day with someone else, though.

Word Count: 1128

Warnings: Fluff, bit of angst, flirtation, jealousy

A/N: This is the conclusion of the Gala scene.


Originally posted by imaginesforlifetime

Quietly slipping out onto the wraparound balcony, you laugh to yourself as you clean rest of Tony’s birthday cake off of your face. The view is immense. On one side, you have Central Park laid before you, turn the corner and you’re greeted by the Empire State Building. You lean against the railing taking in the panoramic scene, your LED imbued gown sparkles elegantly against the nightfall.

You can smell Bucky’s cologne but don’t turn around because you can also smell her perfume hanging on him. He stands behind you for a moment or two before breaking the silence, “Your song,” he clears his throat, “your song was sweet.”

“It isn’t actually my song,” you reply, immediately feeling guilty for how snippy it came across. Apologizing crosses your mind as you turn to look at him when the raven haired woman in the tight dress spills out onto the balcony.

She slurs drunkenly while getting her high heel caught in between two planks of wood, “Where’s my super sssolider? Buckeeyyy!”

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anonymous asked:

Freewood 44 please :)

44. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.” [list]

Word Count: 1,000


When Vav finally reached safety, he peeled off his gloves and shoved them in his never-ending underwear before tentatively reaching around to touch the source of the white-hot agony. He winced when a jolt of pain resonated along the gash in his side and grimaced as his fingertips came into contact with the telling sign of warm, sticky blood.

He and X-Ray had been separated during the fight with some masked hooligan wielding a sword; Vav had just been lucky that the guy was absolutely shite with the blade. He’d managed to dodge most of the attacks, slowing the man’s hands when he had the chance, but there was one wild swing that he hadn’t been able to evade. The blade nicked him in the side and he had collapsed to the floor.

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