#tux/coattail

[some1namedmags]

I barely drew quadrupeds so I made a lil character for that main purpose: practice drawing 4 legged animals

Also yes my friends joked about this cat being in Warriors

[crystalbehindthescenes]

Oh he's not technically breaking any rules, Tuxedo Mask's outfit isnt a traditional kind of tuxedo at all. Its a military Mess suit most likely based on the formal attire worn by the French Military! The uniform is crazy similar to Tuxedo Masks whole drip. Theyre also worn by royalty! Mamoru is a prince and a king!

Funny enough, King Endymion actually wears a traditional style tuxedo, with coat tails and everything. Endymion seems more associated with the coattails, so Mamoru on the Kanzenban covers probably isn't Mamoru at all but Prince Endymion!

Tuxedo Mask's outfit isnt an outfit, it's a military uniform- just like the senshi!

I think he has coat tails in Crystal's design cus Sakou used Kanzenban as a reference- Cus he's never actually depicted with having coattails in the actual pages or artbook outside of King Endymion. Or maybe cus mess jackets and white tie tuxedos share a similar waist design, Sakou and gang thiught he was wearing a white tie tux and probably didn't know about Mess Jackets, at least not by name.

We always talk shit about Mamorus bad fashion and usually think his manga fashion style is very decent (besides the cow print anyway lol)

But listen the boy literally cant dress right he doesnt even wear a tuxedo right, theres 3 types for specific occassions with specific etiquette and our boy is wearing all 3 styles at once what a mess.

imagine newspaper articles and forums just clowning in his drip lmaoooooo

[dsgirl2024]

The World You See | Prologue | Hoseok | BTS OT7 x Reader Fanfiction

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CONTENT WARNING

This story has explicit descriptions of death, drug use, alcohol use, addiction, sex, language, mental illness, suicide, and other possibly triggering content.

If this will effect your well being in ANY WAY, PLEASE DO NOT READ!

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ABOUT

Genre ☆ Fantasy / Romance (Fanfiction)

Rating ☆ Mature (18+ Minors DNI)

Pairing ☆ BTS OT7 x Reader

Story Type ☆ Angel BTS (AU)

SUMMARY

You've always seen the world a bit differently than others. It was like your magic power. And maybe that was why only you could see the lights that night. The big, astronomical explosion of lights that rained down to earth in colors you had never known to have existed until now. Little did you know about a divine destiny beyond your wildest dreams, and seven angelic beings brought down from heaven to guide you.

Apparently, the world is ending, and they're convinced that you're the one to save it. All you have to do, is figure out how.

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Seoul was extraordinarily cold for an early-spring night. 

A bitter sort of chill, one that called for sweaters, hats and for some, a warm coat. The perfect type of night to stay in doors, safe and cozy, curling up on the couch with a steaming cup of tea. A great book in hand, or perhaps a Netflix session to start off a weekend binge.

At least, that appealed to some people.

For others, it was never too cold to live it up--throw on a cute fit and assemble the squad. No matter how low the temperature dropped, the active city at no time neglected a vibrant nightlife. Neon lights illuminated the ground, bleeding saturated colors, and the black pavement glittered as club-goers and bar-hoppers bustled from place to place.

Just as those whom braved the weather, stilettos clacking and hair done-up, someone else had been promised a good time that night.

The time of his life.

One of grandeur and refinement, at the top of the classiest hotel. Where old money mingled with new money, striking deals as they utilized charisma like a weapon--guns loaded, waiting for the right moment to strike. Not ever really enjoying the company of each other, though feigning pleasantries for the sake of the game. The salacious game of shameless business, be it for power, money or love.

And tonight, many had gathered to play. Dressed in the finest attire, their sparkling bodies circled and flirted, sipping on champagne with painted lips and fake smiles. Dazzling, beautiful people, fat with riches, Botox and high societal respect. The creme-de-la-creme.

How ignorant they were.

How oblivious.

Such egocentric, vapid humans, so self involved that they'd hardly noticed the absence of the man whom they came for in the first place.

This was his night. His party. Recognition for all the sweat and tears he'd spilled vying for a spot within their good graces. Validation, that his professional enslavement was all gearing for a brighter future. Oh, the butts he kissed, the demands he dealt with.

The sacrifices he made.

He should be drunk as fuck, enjoying the food, befriending the one percent, charming some women and busting out his sick dance moves. His time had come.He'd finally made it.

So why?

Why, instead, did Jung Hoseok find the tops of his leather-shoed feet dangled off the hotel roof,  dangerously toying with a fatal descent? 

More importantly, why did he look so...

broken?

Tears streaming, wet and snotty, the tall, elegant man appeared as if the seams to his existence had torn apart. Like his insides were barely contained, spilling from all sides, as he clutched his rib cage desperately. Sniffing, chocking down sobs.

The icy winds whipped violently, staining his skin with raw, pink stripes and the coattails of his black Armani tux flapped like flags at mast.

'Ding' A chime alerted from his suit pocket.

Hoseok's weight teetered unsteadily, grimacing, the sound clearly distraught him. "You've won!" He thought, "Just leave me alone!"

'Ding, ding' It chimed again. Determined.

Hoseok swallowed thickly.

Fishing around in his tux, the man pulled out his phone and looked down at the Kakao Talk ID that popped up on the screen. JustYourPrince had sent him a new attachment. His heart dropped, anxious as he opened it, eyes swiping the image with speed. A strangled groan ripped from his throat.

It was a picture of a blind-folded woman. She was tied up and gagged with a gun pointed at her temple. Her long, black locks abnormally messed, and it had been clear by her bloodied lip that she'd put up a fight. Tears of recognition welled in Hoseok's eyes.

'Tick, tock.' The message below spelled out.

An anguished look distorted delicate features, as Hoseok threw his head to the sky, searching for a sign, praying that God had a sick sense of humor. This wasn't really happening. This couldn't actually be happening.

Not to him.

Not to her.

'Ding'

'Ding'

'Ding'

"I can't take it anymore! Ok? I'll do it! I'll do it, I said! So please, just stop!"

The man didn't want to jump.

He had to jump.

That is to say, there didn't seem to be an alternative option. If Hoseok didn't do what they'd asked, she was going to pay the price for it.

'Friday at midnight. If you don't do it by then, she'll suffer the consequences of your actions, Mr. Jung.' That's what they told him.

It was Friday.

Time was running out.

Looking down, the man's stomach lurched. Woozy from the vertigo, he blinked through the blur, palms sweaty, nails digging, as he gauged the height of the drop. Must be at least twenty stories. The hundreds of bodies below resembled dots amidst the glow of building lights. For a moment, he envied those dots. So insignificant--free to exist in peace, camouflaged by the vastness of society.

'Dong--' 'Dong--'  rang the clock-tower bells a few blocks over, a final countdown initiating.

11:59 p.m.

A singular tear dripped off his nose and fell to the streets below. Hoseok sucked in a breath as he watched it vanish from sight, holding in air then relinquishing it all at once. Trembling.

Anticipating.

Wondering, how everything spun so far out of control? It wasn't supposed to be like this. The man's life was in mere adolescence, opportunities just started knocking at his door. He'd worked so hard fortoo long, only to at last receive his reward--and now that reward was being snatched from his grasp. Cruelly. Evilly. The sweet taste of success, drowned by the bitterness of his misfortune.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair at all, but Hoseok couldn't let her suffer. Not for something that was his responsibility in the first place. He refused to allow another person he loved foot his bill, because the last time, it had ended badly.  No one was meant to get hurt, but a dangerous game had been played--against an even more formidable foe. One whom he'd sorely miscalculated, and that had been his first grave mistake.

'Dong--'

His second was his naivety.

'Dong--'

His third was his negligence.

'Dong--'

Maybe this was karma--

'Dong--'

--reaping what he sowed.

'Dong--'

As the last bell tolled, Hoseok shut his eyes tight, collecting his wits. Carefully, he turned his back from the ledge, unwilling to witness full force his death to the ground beneath. He'd rather face the sky, instead. That way, he'd be less afraid. 

The wind shoved at his chest, demanding and hostile, as if it'd grown impatient, reminding the man of the urgency.

'At midnight.' It whispered.'Tick, tok.'

Hoseok told the wind to kindly, fuck off.

Let him go on his own terms.

Let him go with dignity.

Composed.

Mind clear.

Deep breath.

And then he went, tipping himself over the ledge. 

Air rushed his descending person, as gravity dragged him down. Faster and faster, the feeling unlike any he'd experienced before. Adrenaline juiced through his veins like a drug, blood pumping at a frightening speed. It was almost... exciting--fun even, if not for the end Hoseok knew awaited him.

Soon, he would be nothing more than a splattered lump on concrete. An eyesore for pedestrians, and a burden for the poor soul tasked with scrapping his guts off the sidewalk. It'd be quick, though, he was thankful for that.

At least this way, he could free himself.

Free them both.

The thought brought him some comfort.

Then, out of nowhere, a blinding light intrigued Hoseok's eyes to open. He gasped, enthralled by what he saw. Beautiful and terrifying all at once, the indescribable hues of colors gave chase to his falling form. Illuminated beams extended out, weaving and streaking the stratosphere like arms to catch him before he hit the ground below.

Stretching out as far as he could, Hoseok yearned to touch it, curious to learn its texture. Time seemed to slow. Dark hair kissed his cheeks gently, fluttering, as he wondered what something so pretty even felt like? Was it cold? Or did it burn? Sting? Tingle? Drench?

Since he was going to die regardless, it'd be nice to die knowing something like that. Maybe then, the idea of his life cut short wouldn't be so bad, so tragic.

Maybe then, he'd have some hope.

As though his request had been heard, the light sped faster, until suddenly his fingertips grazed the surface. Sizzling. An electrifying current blew through his veins, hot and freezing all at the same time. Flesh quivering, pleasured by the exotic sensation, Hoseok's lips parted in a blissful grin. 

Because now he knew.

He knew everything.

Completely at peace and with an accepting look in his eye, the man gave himself over to the light. Permitting his body to be consumed within its glow, before he came crashing down on the sidewalk beneath. 

The midnight bell concluded, marking the arrival of a new day. 0:00 a.m.

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[you-hate-time-travel]

felty fashion

1) waistcoat with lapels, slightly short tails. normal dress pants. cheap sneakers. wears a belt. fingerless gloves. sleeve garters but still rolls up his sleeves.

2) standard tailcoat getup, white vest & bowtie. square tails. nice loafers

3) trenchcoat. very long tails that trail behind him, hahaha. BOOTS! waistcoat?

4) waistcoat, no lapels. somehow has cuffed his pants up to the knee, ALTERNATIVELY normal very neat pants. dress shoes, cant bother to picl a type. short little coattails. generally neat but laid-back.

5) good neat suit but in a detective way. him and trace have a whole thing going on. gaiters. ....another coat over the suit? again, weird long tails, on the overcoat if thats there.

6) either a greatcoat or a trenchcoat. if trench, belt buckled very tightly. loafers? gaiters? both? different stuff for different days? idk. square coattails. waistcoat or argyle vest. gloves?

7) FASHIONABLE, TIMELESS (hahaha), NEAT. tailcoat or tux, standard tails. cummerbund. overall extremely neat and formal, v professional of him. Shoulderpads

8) God only knows what the fuck shes wearing. coat/dress/overcoat/whatever. i dont know man i just like suits

considering giving all the stripes pinstripes. cute.

9) good ol' suit jacket + waistcoat. western-style bowtie. like, 1890s-1910s shoes. idk. theyve got buttons on em.

10) double-breasted suit. handsome. gloves??

11) Cardigan with coattails. old fireman boots. casual but ready for action

12) open jacket. belt. very simple

13) double breasted coat :3 square tails here too

14) Shoulderpads. waistcoat. Simple, professional, all that. wingtip shoes.

15) waistcoat, fingerless gloves, yeah.

wham

[berebone]

ok now the thought of billy in a tux has me emotional

[twomindsbrokenheart]

Freddy had appropriated a karaoke room for use as a dressing room until it came time for him to walk down the aisle. He was wearing white: white tux, white dress shirt, white top hat with a light blue band that matched his light blue bow tie. Bonnie would be wearing more or less the same thing, but in keeping with one of many old marriage traditions, they hadn’t actually seen each other decked out in their finery yet.

He peered outside nervously. STAFF bots in black coattails — Magician Bot attire — acted as ushers, guiding the guests to their seats; he couldn’t see them, since they were all downstairs, but he could hear them. The first couple of rows in the audience were reserved for the Breachers and their close family friends, but other than that, the guests were welcome to sit anywhere. He heard the click, click, click of high heels striding purposefully; that would be Vanessa, taking her place at the altar. In a short while, he and Bonnie would join her, and…

Freddy nervously fussed with his lapels, although they were already perfectly aligned. He didn’t want a thread out of place when he finally went downstairs.

Sun's reply was relieved... but he of course had faith in her, too.

He trusted her to take good care of Moon... no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

[linnamonrolls0]

Gilded: All That Glitters

Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Summary:

Your invitation to the Met Gala was straight out of a fairytale: a starry night, a beautiful dress, a million spotlights - and a certain charming co-chair in a coattail tux who unexpectedly swept you off your feet...

- Once upon a time, two grown-up theatre kids crossed paths at adult prom and made the absolute best of it. -

Rating: Mature (mild smut warning)

Words: 7611 (oops, I be dreamin')

Spotify playlist link, for when you get there

2022 - New York City

The first Monday in May.

You hadn’t exactly expected that to mean anything more than an ordinary date on your ever-expanding calendar, but now there you were, unable to believe your eyes as you sat in a gleaming suite at The Mark. Surrounded by a dizzying flurry of people wafting in and out of the room, you still struggled to come to terms with your newfound celebrity status. 

Truly, everything had seemed surreal since the release of your debut movie late last year.

You’d gotten a silver-screen debut people only ever dreamt of: after years of fruitless West End auditions, you had been catapulted straight from community theatre to a Hollywood starring role, and though your film hadn’t been predicted to score, it carved its own path as a runaway success. With that came critical acclaim and mass popularity alike, and overnight you went from your survival job as a checkout clerk to walking red carpets with Hollywood’s A-List across the pond.

All that glittered certainly couldn’t be gold, but there was no denying it: with great success came its fair share of gilded glamour. Speaking of which, tonight you were invited to the Met Gala. You knew the stakes were high - the coveted event would be the fashion spectacle of the year, everyone who was anyone would be in attendance, and as a debutant you hoped to turn heads without causing an off-theme uproar. You knew the fashion critics and their online community were nothing if not harsh, ripping apart every gala attendee whilst they sat behind screens in their pyjamas; being new to the spotlight, hate and negative comments online took their toll on you when you read them, and you tended to avoid them as much as you could. But there was no escaping the attention tonight.

Thankfully, you had a strong team behind you that absolutely came through. They had hooked you up with a dream designer and getting ready was a total whirlwind. Thanks to the wonders that were your publicists, stylists and your glam team, before you knew it you were red carpet ready in a striking black and gold ball gown with a long train, sweet and sexy but just rough enough around the edges in keeping with the theme. It was perfect, and though your pre-appearance nerves were killing you, you felt like a real-life Disney princess.

You stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for the walk. As you emerged, clamour broke out amongst the photographers and the flashes nearly blinded you as you swept your gaze over the sea of cameras, remembering everything you’d been taught about high profile red carpet etiquette: shoulders back, get your angles right, let them only see your good side, pretend someone has just told you the world’s funniest joke and give them the most genuine big smile you can muster…

Four more steps and one dramatic hair flip later, a couple of assistants were on hand to help with the train of your dress as you made your way towards the legendary Met Steps. All the way up, you continued to flash the cameras what you hoped was a showstopping smile, but really, all you did was pray you would make it up the steps without falling over. If you were honest, your ‘gala prep’ had included running up and down the stairs to your third-floor walk-up flat in the highest heels you owned - and clearly it had helped, because now you were up there and everything was going perfectly.

(Or so you convinced yourself, anyway.)

The Vogue team immediately pulled you aside for a couple of interviews on your way in, and you found yourself making every effort not to seem too starstruck as you explained the detailing of your dress to Vanessa Hudgens (holy High School Musical hell?!) before making your way into the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

You had always wondered what actually happened at this Gala, forever imagined it to be just a huge high-profile celebrity fashion fest. Now you’d been told the evening would entail a tour of the new exhibition, a musical performance, some speeches and a dinner, but that really was all you knew so far.

Aya, your head publicist, was tasked with the responsibility of escorting you through the event, and she was thankfully privy to your predicament as a first-time attendee. She gently reminded you that as a guest, you needed to be introduced to the Chairs of the Gala, and the event was an unspoken networking opportunity to befriend practically anybody you wanted to speak to. You let her lead the way as she pattered on her phone - not hers, but a device exclusively for the event, she explained. Her main role had really been to make sure you were in the right place at the right time throughout your promo tours and award circuits, but she knew this event inside out and you were thankful for her patience and understanding of how nervous you were as she guided you through it.

As you entered the Great Hall, your eyes widened when you saw Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds, in all their gorgeous glory, her copper-patinated dress catching the eye of every passer-by as the couple chatted away with - holy crap, is that Katy Perry and Lizzo? Since when is that a thing? You surreptitiously stared as the two women strutted out to one of the galleries, and upon some urging from Aya, you tiptoed over to the co-hosting couple and nervously said hello. 

You began to introduce yourself, but Blake cut you short. “Sweetheart, we know who you are!” she said, flashing her signature dazzling smile - there was no denying the woman’s screen presence, but you could swear she actually sparkled in real life.

“Oh my god, you do?” you blurted out. Honestly, the fact that people you’d admired forever knew of you was one thing you still struggled to wrap your head around.

“Of course! Congratulations on your Met debut; you look wonderful,” Ryan remarked.

You thanked them with a shy smile and, seeing it as your only opportunity to do so, showered them with a barrage of compliments on how lovely they looked. The couple were positively charmed and it took both your publicists to cut in, reminding you all that there were other places to go and other people to meet.

You exited the hall and bumped straight into a couple of fellow cast members from your multi-award-winning move; Emma Stone and Regé-Jean Page were far more well-known than you, but they made you feel welcome and for that you were endlessly grateful. You joined them in socialising with even more beautiful people amongst all the extravagance of the evening and your fascination with everyone’s themed revelry. The list was endless. Between the blur that was meeting the legendary Anna Wintour, being positively awestruck by an endless list of Met-mythical wonders, and a few hilariously out-of-tone jokes by some questionable comedians as the Biebers were outshone when the Kardashian clan trotted in with their entourage of partners, you began to doubt if the whole event was just one long fever dream, worrying you’d wake up in your tiny unglamorous studio back home any second now.

You felt a little more at ease in familiar company with your costars by your side as you made your way through the Costume Institute, casting your eyes over the exhibition. It was all incredibly overwhelming and you made a mental note to come back on some quiet afternoon to actually check out the pieces on display - because goodness knew that was the last thing you could focus on today.

Even your costars’ costars had you starstruck when soon enough the Duke of Hastings spotted his Duchess across the room and excused himself to go say hello and a certain Spiderman whisked his sometime sweetheart away, leaving you deserted for a moment as you waited for Aya to return from wherever she’d zipped off to. You rolled your eyes at everyone’s frivolity - granted, there were a fair few pretty boys and dashing men at this event, but romance was the last thing on your mind when running in these star-studded circles. So you looked around for a sign, still a fish out of water, figuring out where the tide would take you next.

That was when you saw him.

His million-watt smile was the first thing you noticed as he stood beside an obscure exhibit, engrossed in a conversation with an old friend.

Lin-Manuel Miranda. Who’d ever have thought?

You knew he was one of the co-chairs of the event, and having already met the others, that wouldn’t be a terrible excuse to talk to him. You had seen him around, and originating as a theatre kid you knew exactly who and what this man was. You’d never really paid much mind to this side of him, though - if you ever thought of him (which, honestly, didn’t happen often) you still pictured long hair, fast-paced Broadway rap and this was the dude that wore jeans to the freaking White House! But tonight, he looked every bit the part of a Met Gala co-chair, and his sharp coattail tux somewhat reminded you of a charming Disney prince.

Wait, what?

You wondered where that thought had suddenly come from, but you weren’t afforded the luxury of lingering on it. Aya snuck through the various groups of guests gathered around the gallery and found you again, shoving a cold champagne flute into your hands despite your protests. And just like that, she began escorting you around the room to meet a few more famous faces, some familiar, others starstruck-inducingly new. Forcing down your nerves with some bubbly, you faked breezing through celebrity small talk like a Met veteran, covering every trace of the shaky newcomer you truly were as you exchanged smooth pleasantries with everyone you crossed paths with. You quickly learnt compliments were the currency of the evening, and you spent them lavishly.

With only a few people left to meet, Aya finally nudged you over in their direction and you successfully floated through another round of networking, and somewhere in all this you found yourself face-to-face with Lin-Manuel himself. He welcomed you with a kind smile, you greeted him politely and introduced yourself as you’d become accustomed to doing all evening. You weren’t about to become complacent, though everyone seemed to know of you already - and in that respect, he was no different. You’d been drifting in parallel circles while you were both in LA during the whirlwind awards season earlier in the year, but somehow you had never formally met until now.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said. Though enthusiastic and excitable, he spoke with a certain softness, and you had to keep yourself from swooning as he grasped your hand, eyes briefly meeting yours for permission - when you looked back at him with a demure smile, he gently brushed his lips over the back of your hand. You tried to level your breathing.

“Likewise, Lin-Manuel.” You blushed as he released your hand, standing to his full height again.

Maybe you had really been transported back to the Gilded Age, for this meeting was certainly out-of-place in this era.

“Please, call me Lin. And if I may… You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! You don’t look so bad yourself,” you remarked lightly, earning a soft chuckle from him as you trailed your gaze over him. There was a certain royal quality about his look; it was like he’d walked straight out of a fairytale.

“Thanks! Dressing up isn’t exactly my forte, so…”

“Of course, and congratulations on… this!” You exhaled, gesturing to the grandeur that surrounded you. “You’re probably sick of hearing this, but honestly, Tick Tick Boom was the best movie I saw last year,” you complimented, meaning every word. You’d had a crazy few months and lacked the time to watch most of the movies that had come out, but you’d caught his directorial debut at a festival where your film was also being screened and it was definitely up there with your favourites.

“I appreciate that,” he said sincerely - though he sounded modest, you could tell he enjoyed the praise. He continued, “I could say the same. You’ve probably been hearing this all night, but congratulations on your Oscar! For a feature debut, that’s a pretty mean feat.”

“Thank you,” you smiled with gratitude, “Though I still believe you and Bruno were royally robbed!”

Lin laughed at your joke, a heartwarming symphony that you somewhat still wished you could hear again. Humbly, he continued, “Ah, it’s all good. Just knowing that the world is still talking about it is enough of a reward, ‘cause honestly I didn’t expect any of that.”

“I get that.” You nodded, raising your glass, “To the unexpected, then!”

“To everything unexpected.” He clinked his glass against yours with the sweetest little smile playing on his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges. There was something infectious about his positive energy, because until now you’d been feigning your camera smile for the inevitable photographs, but in this moment you were actually unabashedly beaming. 

You risked a small sip of your champagne, meeting his eyes over the rim of the flute. “I kinda still can’t believe all this is happening,” you giggled, gazing around the room in disbelief.

He caught his bottom lip between his teeth for a split second before agreeing with you, “I know, right? It’s like some kind of crazy adult prom…”

“Exactly! How did you end up hosting this thing anyway?” you wondered aloud. 

But before he could elaborate, his publicist politely interrupted. “Lin, we should…” The guy gestured to the other side of the hall.

“Duty calls,” Lin nodded, turning to you again, “It’s a long story, but I promise I’ll find you and tell you the whole thing!”

You smiled. “Alright. I’ll catch you later!”

As he stepped away, following his publicist to who-knew-where, he turned and shot you a quick wink before venturing out towards the hall. You sighed, your gaze following him out of your sight…

—————

The event was truly unlike anything you’d ever seen before. As the seated proceedings began, you watched on in wonder, while your publicist (read: babysitter) reminded you to eat some of the ridiculously decadent food so you wouldn’t collapse. 

But strangely, you couldn’t take your eyes off of that rather charming, intelligent man on the other side of the room. Even whilst he took his place on the podium, expertly delivering a well-written speech, you could feel his gaze wander back to you, which made you oddly nervous. He’d immediately look away when he saw you’d noticed, but it was clear as day. You averted your eyes for a moment during the musical performances, but when your gaze fell upon Lin again, now seated at his table at the very front, you realised he was still looking right back at you. Even from across the vast hall you could pick up that little glint of appreciation in his eyes, and gilded glamour be damned, you truly felt like a million bucks and then some. After you’d caught him one time too many, he made no effort to hide, and neither did you.

Once the meal was over and done with, Lin immediately stood up and you watched as he strode across the hall in your direction. You panicked and quickly struck up a conversation with Ariana DeBose, seated beside you. You were well aware that Lin and Ariana knew each other, but you needed a not-so-blatant cover and that was the best you could do.

“Hey,” Lin’s smooth voice interrupted you as you sensed his presence behind you, “Is this seat taken?” He gestured to the empty chair on the other side of you, and for a second you wondered why the hell Simone Ashley had chosen that particular moment to disappear, leaving her seat conveniently empty.

“Nope, join us!” Ariana invited him, and that was all he needed to pull up the chair and do exactly that. “What, was the hosting crowd too basic for you?” she joked.

“God, no, they’re great! I just… thought I’d come say hi! So, hi,” he said sweetly. Ariana laughed, whilst your curiosity continued to grow. Giving you a gentle nudge, Lin murmured, just about loud enough for you to hear, “I think I owe you a story…”

“Go on? I think I have time,” you teased.

“Walk with me?” he proposed. He was blatantly flirting - you shot him a mildly incredulous look, though judging by the innocence with which he asked, you’d be lying to yourself if you thought you’d say no. You nodded.

Ariana raised her eyebrows when she noticed you and Lin rising from your seats, silently interrogating the two of you. In unison, you both shook your heads in comical denial - and you wanted to say something to justify yourselves, but instead you followed Lin across the hall.

“Where are we going?” you asked, more intrigued than wary.

“I… actually don’t know,” Lin confessed with a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Outside?”

“Honestly I’d love to, but the designers and my stylists would kill me if I ruined this thing!” You gestured to your dress - which you couldn’t quite believe was yours, even just for tonight. You’d be in trouble if anything went wrong with it.

His appreciative once-over didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Mine too. But let’s say we throw caution to the wind and go anyway… Who can stop us?” He smirked.

“Who can stop us?” you repeated, in a sort of amused disbelief. But then reality struck you, and you questioned naively, “But what if someone sees us?”

“I’m pretty sure every reporter in town is stationed solid either outside The Met or The Mark. And the perks of co-chairing… We have a back exit here.” He knew what he was doing; you nodded, reasonably impressed. “Would you trust me?” Lin asked earnestly. 

How could you trust him? Why would you trust him? For all intents and purposes he was virtually a stranger, and for you to be so enchanted by him…

And yet… something about the honesty in his eyes and the warmth in his smile compelled you to link your arm through his, whispering your assent. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

So, arm-in-arm, off you went through to the opposite end of the Met, fleeing the Gala in a blur of coattails and dress trains as you hastened for this undisclosed back exit. Sneaking away from the glamour of the party was easy enough; practically all the other attendees were still in the Great Hall, leaving you with a clear getaway route.

—————

Central Park seemed to be deserted, and with good reason. It had gotten dark outside and the temperature had taken a post-sunset drop, leaving a slight chill in the air as you escaped to a quiet walkway, lit only by the gentle glow of streetlamps lining the path.

True to his word, as you strolled along the path together, Lin narrated the tale of how he’d come to receive an invite to host this major fashion-focused event despite being turned into an unfashionable meme in recent history (so you were right, White House Jeans Dude was a real joke). You found yourselves going off on other tangents far too often and it took him much longer than necessary to get to the end of the relatively uncomplicated story, owing to distractions that kept you chatting and laughing and oh, so much flirting - but honestly, you didn’t mind at all. You almost willed this not to end, almost wished the story were longer so you’d remain in each other’s company until the night was through.

You let Lin lead the way as you wandered, presuming this New York native most likely knew his way around the park far better than you ever would. More than happy to oblige, he led the way and took a turn onto another path, until you faced a wire fence almost entirely covered in shrubbery; when he stopped walking, you looked askance at him. It looked like a dead end - what was he playing at?

Cautious of the delicate fabric of his coat, he pushed aside an overgrown branch to reveal a gaping hole in the fence, and your expression graduated from confusion back to incredulity. He looked back at you and nodded as if asking you to continue to just trust him - and you still didn’t know exactly why you thought that was a wise idea, but alas, you did. You gathered the skirt of your ball gown as best you could, cringing a little at the way the black silk crinkled as you made every effort to hold it up, careful not to let it snag on the clipped fencing. You heaved a sigh of relief when you and your dress made it inside unscathed and Lin quickly followed behind, standing beside you. 

For a moment, the two of you stood still in the shadows. There was a certain hauntingly beautiful quality about the empty open-air theatre; with the lights switched off and not another soul in sight, the stillness and silence hung heavy in the air as the moon floodlit the stage you stood on. From where you had snuck in, you were directly upstage, facing rows upon rows of unoccupied seats. Together, you looked down, revelling in the reflection of the pearlescent glow from above and when you raised your gaze to meet his, you exchanged looks of silent wonder.

A vague notion of concern materialised in the back of your mind as you realised you were essentially trespassing. But you weren’t causing any harm, so… Was that so bad?

Lin was the first to move again. His footsteps echoed as he strode centre stage, and despite the slight eeriness of it, he looked entirely comfortable in this space, completely owning it. You watched on in awe as he stepped into the light, the moon’s luminance casting a subtle shimmer over his suit, bringing forth an iridescent glow in the darkness. 

“This is…amazing,” you exhaled, short of breath and of words.

He turned back to glance at you, and his sweet smile alleviated your fleeting fears. “No doubt, the Delacorte is stunning at night…” he mused aloud, “But it’s kinda starting to pale in comparison.”

“In comparison to what, pray tell?” you questioned innocently, taking a couple of tentative steps towards him.

“Take a guess?”

“You? That suit is quite dazzling.”

“Ha, ha.” Lin responded with a wry grin, “You, of course.”

You blushed, shifting your coy gaze to the ground. “Stop, you’re being too sweet.”

“Oh, I’m about to make it worse,” he teased, that flirtatious smirk playing on his lips again. You quirked a brow, daring him to go on. “May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked playfully, taking a chivalrous bow as he offered you his hand.

“You certainly may, Sir,” you quipped in the strongest British received pronunciation you could muster, holding your laugh behind your words. “But,” you dropped the accent, “Music?”

It simultaneously dawned upon you both that the Gala’s restricted phone policy meant your phones were back at the Met, held by your publicists for safekeeping. But you had an idea, and as you met his gaze once again, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirrored yours - after all, you were a pair of grown-up theatre kids. The two of you didn’t need a phone or a jukebox or even an accompaniment. Music was a part of your souls, from the lyrics in your heads to the rhythm of your hearts.

So you took his hand, placing your other hand on his shoulder, his resting delicately on your waist.  In your sudden close proximity you absently noted, somewhere in the back of your mind, that there was something rather intoxicatingly addictive about his cologne… You let him lead the dance as you softly hummed a tune. You didn’t truly know why Part of Your World was the first song that sprung to your mind at that moment, but Lin laughed lightly when he recognised the melody, humming along with you a few beats later as you swayed together.

An idea occurred to you. The whole thing almost felt like a scene out of one of those musicals you both were so deeply fascinated by, or one of the many fairytales and rom-coms your younger self had fallen in love with the idea of once upon a time… but nevertheless, you’d never know if you didn’t try. So you wondered, ”Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah?” Lin encouraged. That incandescent smile of his was all you needed to follow through with your insane improvised idea.

“Tonight… It was enchanting to meet you… All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you…”

“Can I?”

“Sure?”

“I’ve had the time of my life tonight… And I swear it’s the truth, and I owe it all to you!”

Before you knew it, you were waltzing around the empty stage without a care in the world, laughing at each other’s missteps, singing as though nobody was listening, finishing each other’s lyrics as you alternated through your mental playlists. And it was true - there was no-one to impress, no-one to pass judgements - and you took comfort in that, relishing the peace it brought. So together you sang and you danced and you twirled around the stage, carefree as you both ever would be, living your best adult-prom lives.

“Well, all I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I wanna hold you… All I know is you’re someone I’ve always known, and I don’t even know you…”

“Can’t you see that the day seems clearer now that you’re here or… is it me?”

“Hey, back up! I know that one’s yours. Disqualified.”

“Okay, you got me. Take two?” Lin suggested cheekily. You pretended to think for a second before you nodded, allowing him that much lenience to the rules of this entirely made-up game and he continued, “There are many things that I’d like to say to you but I don’t know how, because maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me, and after all, you’re my wonderwall…”

“So you know I’m never gonna dance again, the way I danced with yoooou!”

As he whirled you around the middle of the stage, you tripped on your heels. All the practice in the world couldn’t have prepared you for this - after all, you’d been prepping for a red carpet, not a fairytale ball. Dancing was never on the agenda!

In a speedy reflex reaction, Lin caught you as you stumbled, saving you from falling on your face. He paused, looking at you with concern filling his deep brown eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him, “Just, these heels! They’re gorgeous, but…” He stood by you for support, holding you steady, and you rested one hand on his shoulder as you yanked the offending gold Louboutins off, feeling immediate relief when you tossed your footwear to one side of the stage. You’d been standing tall in them and taking them off knocked you down a few inches, but honestly… When you stood on that stage, looking up into Lin’s eyes as they sparkled brighter than the stars above you both, you figured your actual height difference was kind of cute.

“Better?” he asked, gently placing both hands on your waist.

“So much better,” you affirmed, stepping up on your tiptoes, just about managing to slip your arms around his neck.

He bravely pressed a feather-light kiss to your forehead, his playful smile returning. “Wait…”

You gave him a questioning look as he drew back from you - but when you realised what he was up to, you couldn’t hold back your laughter. He kicked off his patent leather loafers to join your high heels downstage, bringing him a little closer to your level - and amusingly leaving him in a pair of red patterned socks.

“What, do wacky socks turn you off?” he teased, pulling you towards him again.

“Quite the opposite,” you smirked, swaying along with him, “I have an enviable sock collection myself, actually.”

“Hmm, really?”

“Indeed. Might show you sometime, if you don’t sweet-talk me to death.”

Effortless and effervescent, Lin continued your musical chain as you continued to dance, barefoot on the cold stage.

“Don’t you see it? ‘Cause darling, without you… All the shine of a thousand spotlights, all the stars that we steal from the night sky will never be enough, never be enough…”

“You don’t. I don’t want the world to see me, ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand… When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am…”

“I should tell you, I should tell you…” To that, you responded with a quizzical look. Breaking the chain for a beat, Lin whispered, “I didn’t want to tell you before, but I knew.”

“What?” you asked, 

“You thought I didn’t know you.”

“Why on earth would you?”

“I did. I saw your movie at the same festival back in November and…”

“No.” You gasped. Surely he didn’t. Surely this wasn’t some incredibly elaborately orchestrated meet-cute.

“Yeah. And for some reason, every time our paths crossed during awards season and I thought about trying to talk to you, something would always get in the way… But I’m glad tonight panned out the way it did,” Lin confessed. His gaze held yours and said a thousand words more than you ever thought you’d hear tonight.

You were reassured in the knowledge that the night’s turn of events were as unexpected to him as they had been to you; honestly, it made the whole thing infinitely more beautiful. You responded, “I had no idea… But you know what? I like this better. There was no way we could’ve met sooner if this is what destiny had in store for us.”

“Who knows where, who goes there?”

“Who knows? Here goes…”

As you finished the line, Lin caught you by surprise, dipping you low as you held onto him for support. So that was why you thought you could trust him - he wouldn’t let you fall. His eyes held your gaze, both of you challenging the other to make a move.

“Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you…”

“Take my hand, take my whole life too, ‘cause I can’t help falling in love with you…”

So when you finally did make a move, you simultaneously leaned in towards each other, and when your lips finally met, you could swear you felt all the butterflies and fireworks and sparks, the stuff of romance novels that you never thought was possible in real life. Neither of you were in any rush, his tongue finding yours first, unhurriedly exploring each other’s mouths, his hands firm yet somehow still delicate on your waist as as your hands trailed up his arms to his shoulders to his neck to finally rest in his hair, too short to grab but well, he wouldn’t stop you if you tried…

When you finally separated, only for the practicality of needing to breathe actual air, all you registered were Lin’s warm brown eyes and his hands on you, still lingering at your waist. You became vaguely aware of a raindrop or two falling onto your exposed skin, and you both looked up to the sky in unison. Sure enough, it was starting to rain - but in the gleaming moonlight, it looked almost like drops of starlight were descending over you, no less sparkly or stunning than the events leading up to them.

Lin smiled again, helping you back to your feet onto the solid ground of the stage. The surface was dewy with the light drizzle and you shivered, your off-shoulder sleeves doing very little to shield you from the nighttime breeze. He evidently noticed, for before you could say another word, he slipped out of his coat and draped it over your shoulders, providing immediate relief.

“Thank you,” you whispered, again almost in disbelief at his chivalry. And, feeling a little braver already, you took a step towards him again to place the gentlest little kiss on his cheek before you whirled around to retrieve your shoes.

You threw him a cursory glance over your shoulder as you made your way downstage, trying your level best not to get distracted by the heart-melting smile that graced his lips as he watched you, both practically blushing. You went to pick up your discarded high heels, but suddenly, the ground was swept from beneath your feet. 

“Lin!” you shrieked in surprise as he swiftly lifted you, one arm around your waist and the other supporting your legs. Your arm instinctively went around his neck, resting on his shoulder, as your other hand hung on to the backs of your Louboutins, letting them dangle off your fingers. You willed yourself not to get lost in his eyes as you continued teasingly, “What do you think you’re doing, Mr Miranda?”

“Well, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you stumble home in the rain?” he retorted, matching your playful tone, “So tell me… Where the fuck are we going?”

“Very chivalrous indeed,” you joked, “I don’t know, your place or mine?” You bit your bottom lip, hopefully seductively so - until you both burst into laughter. “God, I cannot believe I just said that out loud.”

“Neither can I, actually. I’d never have asked… Not in an I-don’t-want-you way, but in a, like, respectful way - if you know what I mean - hmm-”

You silenced his questionably cute rambling with a gentle kiss. There was something dangerously addictive about kissing him; it was as though once you’d been down that road, you kept wanting to go back for more. Of course, he wasn’t opposed to it, responding with just as much fervour until the drizzle developed into a full-on downpour, forcing you apart again. You were soaked to the skin within seconds, but as you looked up at him again, all the both of you could do was continue to laugh.

“Well, there go our outfits,” you remarked with a giggle.

“It’s almost like destiny, isn’t it?” Lin laughed, carefully stepping into his own shoes whilst still holding you, “Yeah, Paul will probably hate me after this.”

“The House of Gucci will have my head on a stick!” you exaggerated in a mock accent. “Well, it’s Moschino but you get the idea.”

“Worth it, though.”

“Totally.”

—————

Somewhere along the way, you had jointly made up your minds to head back to The Mark, where you both had suites for the night, rather than attempting to make the journey back to his apartment uptown. Lin refused to let you walk any of the way after seeing the pain those heels had wrought upon your feet, so despite your protests you were still helplessly up in his arms with his coat hanging on your shoulders as he strolled in on the red carpet they still had laid out at the door of the hotel.

To your surprise, there was no-one else around save for the hotel staff, who shot looks of intrigue at the two of you as you entered the hotel lobby, all lavish velvet and opulence. You guessed most of the other Gala attendees had either already turned in or were still out at the various afterparties (which, honestly, you’d completely forgotten about despite the multiple invitations you were meant to oblige earlier that night and the second dress that hung forgotten in your suite) - but you figured that was a good thing, being able to avoid any questions or judgements.

“I can walk!” you insisted for the umpteenth time, but Lin was having none of it. He shook his head and walked you both to the elevator lobby, where an elderly doorman kindly pushed the call button for you. An elevator thankfully arrived within a few seconds and Lin stepped in, finally setting you down on the ground, the marble floor cool against your bare feet.

“Only because…” he whispered. For a moment, you looked shyly up at him, but by now you knew exactly where he was going with this as he delicately cupped your cheek, drawing you closer to steal another kiss, just deep enough to keep you wanting more. “Why are we still in this elevator?” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“Because…” you sighed, placing both hands on his chest and gently pushing him back. He looked mildly dejected until he realised you needed him out of the way to reach for the elevator buttons.

Lin wordlessly took another step towards you, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he slipped one hand into the inner pocket of your - well, actually his - coat. Casual as ever, he retrieved a card, holding it between his fingers in front of you as though he were showing off some sort of magic trick. You narrowed your eyes at his failed attempt to act cool.

“Shit,” he laughed when he looked at the business card he was holding, “That is not my key.”

“That’s why I’m here,” you said with a smirk, retrieving your own keycard from a pocket concealed somewhere between the many layers and pleats of your dress. He looked fascinated. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, love!” You reached behind him to finally hit the button for your floor, and up you went.

—————

Trying not to destroy your priceless outfits any more than you already had, you slipped his tailcoat off of your shoulders as soon as you entered your suite. As you placed it on an empty hanger on your clothing rail to dry, you felt Lin wander over to stop behind you and you shivered - but this time it wasn’t from the cold. He hadn’t touched you yet, but you could feel warmth radiating off him in waves as you turned to face him.

You looked up at him, both equally thrilled and terrified as you brazenly made the first move. You tugged lightly on the loose end of his necktie, unravelling the knot and tossing it somewhere across the room. He reached for you, his eyes fixed upon yours, shining with anticipation; you instinctively leant into his touch, trying not to melt as he tucked a wet lock of hair behind your ear, reaching for the pin that held your elaborate updo in place. He slipped the hairpin out of your hair and dropped it to the ground. You shook your head to let the strands loose, his fingers tangled in your hair as your hands went for the buttons on his high-collared shirt next, having noticed he had already abandoned his waistcoat. He hastily shrugged the shirt off and drew you closer, one hand searching the back of your dress for the fastenings holding it up. You turned away again, knowing exactly where the zipper was; he found it easily and slowly dragged it down, his fingertips teasingly brushed your bare back, each brief moment of contact setting off a flame you couldn’t ignore. You slipped your arms out of the sleeves, letting the dress slip easily down to the carpeted floor. To hell with your elaborate costumes, you thought as you coquettishly stared at him; he was perfect with or without the royal getup.

“Fuck,” Lin gasped, seemingly stealing the words right from you, “You’re breathtaking.”

“Won’t you return the favour? Take my breath away…” you breathed, stepping up onto your toes, barely hesitating to kiss him again.

You felt him smile against your lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you again, blindly finding your way to the waiting bed somewhere behind you. From there on, it was all a rather beautiful haze as the remainders of both your clothing were tossed to the floor, and you let yourself get completely swept up in him as you landed on the bed together with a gentle thud. You were still intoxicated, both high off each other as his lips captured yours for the nth time that night, his body on top of yours, every touch a searing spark.

You laced your fingers with his, entirely intertwined as you took your time exploring each other, him trailing butterfly kisses over every exposed inch of your skin, and you to his. An overload to your senses, all you could register was his lips on your neck, your hands on his chest, him hot and hard for you, you wet and ready for him… His eyes were dark with desire as they held your gaze, still somehow seeking assent before he finally entered you, stretching you to your limits. He stilled when you gasped, giving you a moment to adjust before you assured him, begged him to go on, gentle endearments whispered like a symphony only the two of you could hear.

Your eyes met for a brief second before they fluttered shut in pure ecstasy as he pushed you to the edge over again and there you went - there you both went together, melting into each other in a daze of sighs and screams and whispers and whimpers, with so much said in so little words, though knowing that would not be the end; there was no way this could be the end…

There was a certain comfort, a refreshing familiarity about the way he touched you, not like this was your first night together, but the first of many. This wasn’t a battle, it was almost another dance in its own right, setting your hearts alight and your bodies aflame.

Still tangled up in each other, a mess of lovestruck smiles and crumpled white sheets as you both caught your breaths again, you looked over at him, you could tell he reciprocated everything you were feeling by the way he looked back at you. Those gorgeous brown eyes still shone with affection, that sweet smile still played on his lips, with just the lightest hint of a blush visible on his cheeks. He reached one hand up to brush a stray strand of your still-damp hair away from your face, letting his hand rest tenderly on your flushed cheek for a moment; you placed your own hand over his, a silent request to please stay.

You didn’t need to ask twice - or even once.

And again, it was as though you were in perfect sync; you leaned in and met his lips for one last kiss that night, every bit as passionate as the first. The day’s chaos and exhaustion had begun to catch up with you both, but for all the mutual warmth and comfort you felt, falling asleep in each other’s arms seemed like a definite way to relieve it. A momentary hint of fear flickered through your mind as you wondered how it was even possible to feel so safe, so loved in the arms of someone you barely knew, and for someone who knew you just as little to reciprocate with such adoration - but there you both were.

And oh, you were certain you’d have each other again any damn time you could - but now you rested in the knowledge that you’d always have more time in the morning…

—————

Morning rolled around far too soon. When you awoke in your gorgeous suite, praying the night was not just a dream… you were abruptly snapped out of your daze by the irritating sound of a phone buzzing. 

Your sleepy mind registered that you’d left your personal phone in the drawer of the nightstand before you left for the Gala. When you carefully retrieved the device, it simply would not stop ringing with notifications from every friend and family member you kept in contact with.

Why?

You wondered, but it didn’t take much searching to find out. Splashed across the tabloids, the blogs, and all over social media, amongst the endless stream of best- and worst-dressed lists, was an image of the two of you. So thank goodness, it wasn’t just a dream… He wasn’t just a dream. You had no idea how or who could’ve snapped this photo without your knowledge, but you realised complaining would be an injustice. The mystery photographer had captured you and Lin mid-midnight dance, at the very second he’d dipped you low and you’d seized the moment to steal a kiss, the falling raindrops sparkling like diamonds around you.

It looked like the end of a Disney movie, him the smitten prince, you the besotted princess, falling into happily ever after in each other’s arms.

But when Lin stirred beside you and held you close, still adorably sleepy, you tossed your phone onto the bed and turned to face him instead, bathed in the early morning sunshine’s soft glow. 

The dream could go on a little longer and for now, the rest of the world could wait - because what you both knew in that moment, was that this was only the beginning of a new fairytale…

[themakeupbrush]

Can you post cringe? (Comp of the dudes at the met gala in a basic tux)

This year was honestly a little hard because if they were wearing a waistcoat or coattails they were technically on theme. Boring, sure, but on theme

Honorable mention to Sebastian Stan for showing up in this

[silvermuffins]

God arqa makes horror noises- fuck there's a gatekeeper. Uhhhh....hm. okay I'll use a few items and we'll try it.

Oh shit. Oh shit it knows my weaknesses.

Fuck that was scary and Akihiko died for a moment and Junpei used my band-ace but! Yukari's bow poisoned the damn thing and decimated it.

And Mitsuru is at the limit of her range...

Holy shit I got a tux for Junpei. He has coattails. And a top hat.

Aaaaamyway. Coworker X is playing Reload on my recommendation and is having a blast. It was all either of us could think about today.

I eat, sleep, and breathe Persona. It's time to dive back in. We left off in Tartarus! ....my ps4 seems to think it's 4:32 pm? It's 3:51??? Anyway.

Tartarus.

[uproariousscarecrow]

thinking about the potential of a tux with embroidered coattails…..

[watchingwisteria]

i am so happy that the tux-only men are able to be on theme this year at the met gala. all their designers had to do were add some coattails and wide lapels and they are delivering!!

[mxmaneater]

A picture I did of Draco last year when I was writing the Halloween chapter of my story 🧛‍♂️🦇🕸

And now I’m gearing up to write the Halloween chapter of my sequel!  Wooh!

His breath caught.

Malfoy was lounging in a chair stationed outside the door.  He wore an old-style tux that fitted perfectly to his long, slender form; coattails draped underneath him and dipped to touch the floor.

He glanced up and smirked when he saw Harry. Merlin, he was wearing an orange bowtie.  

[waywardodysseys]

Masquerade - Oneshot

Pairing: Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels x female reader

Warnings: just a jealous Agent Whiskey

Requested?: Yes by @fuckmeharryhart - You're an agent along with Agent Whiskey and you're attending a gala for a mission. Whiskey gets jealous over all the looks you pull from guys and gals how does he handle his jealousy? Btw you're a wonderful writer and get characters just right like wow way to go ^^

Author’s note: this does contain spoilers for Kingsman: The Golden Circle towards the end

~   ~   ~

Ginger walks into the room you’re using to dress for the evening. You are helping Whiskey on a mission at a black-tie formal event at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.

“You look gorgeous,” Ginger whispers as she approaches you from behind, while you look in the floor length mirror.

You laugh nervously, “I haven’t dressed this fancy in ages.”

Ginger smiles at you in the reflection of the mirror, “you’ll be fine. Jack’s to meet you there,” she pauses as she hands you a small coms bud, “I’ll be on the coms. Jack has one too.”

“Yeah, Jack,” you utter.

You’ve been with the Statesman for two years, working alongside Tequila yet when Champ had called you to ask a favor to help Whiskey you couldn’t deny your boss.

“I need someone primarily to go with Whiskey, just to keep him under control.” Champ had mentioned to you days prior.

“And there’s no one else?” You had asked, knowing Whiskey’s reputation. Great agent, charming personality, flirty twenty-four seven.

Champ had informed you no one else was available to accompany him and that this mission was not a one-man job. Therefore, reluctantly agreeing to join Whiskey.

“Good. It’s in New York City. I will let him know he’ll have backup,” Champ had smiled through the hologram call.

You had then boarded a plane for N.Y.C. and now here you are dressed in a frilly rose-gold colored ballgown, about to place a mask on your face, and head out for a night out on the town, which technically wasn’t true but it’s how you felt since you hadn’t dressed up for anything in years.

“You’ll be fine,” Ginger remarks as she gives your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“I hope so.” You state as you place the coms bud in your ear and leave.

-------

The limo drops you off and you begin walking the red carpet of the Met Gala. Masks donning people’s faces since this year’s theme was “Masquerade.” Multitudes of celebrities were decked out in fancy and shimmering costumes along with their own masks – most looked custom made to match their outfits. Photogs and interviewers lined the stairs to the entrance of the Met, waiting for their chance at speaking with the celebrities who were handpicked to attend this special event.

A tall and lanky gentleman approaches you with a black studded Venetian mask, dressed in a tailored tux complete with bow tie. You smell his cologne as you take note of the thin mustache on his upper lip.

“Jack,” you whisper.

“Darlin’,” Jack drawls in his Southern accent.

You breathe a sigh of relief. You two had arrived separately; you were hoping to find him among the bountiful crowd quickly, not get lost in the sea of people.

Jack takes in your dress along with the black lace laser cut Venetian mask adorning your face, “lookin’ beautiful,” he holds his arm out, “shall we?”

You smile politely, “of course.”

Jack escorts you further into the Met and deeper into the party.

When you think of a masquerade your first thought is from the musical The Phantom of Opera. People dancing choreographed dances in big ballgowns. Music filling the air, people intoxicating themselves with rich champagne and hors d’oeuvres. You also thought about secret couples coming to the event, while others were unaware of them, and enjoying a night where they could be together because of the masks.

The vibrant scene unfolds before the two of you as your eyes take in the extravagant decorations – two and three tiered chandeliers along with ribbons of string in various colors hanging from the ceiling, circular tables with white tablecloths and candelabras, other tables packed with towers of food for consumption. Music flows through the area as people mingle with one another.

“The mark has arrived,” Ginger’s soft voice remarks through the coms buds.

Her voice pulls you out of your trance. You remove your hand from the crook of Jack’s arm and begin walking through the throng of people.

Jack watches you disappear into the crowd then makes his way around the horde of people. He swipes a couple decadent chocolate covered strawberries and eats the treat slowly. He savors the taste as his eyes travel through the crowd. He finds perch on a set of stairs, so he’s able to keep an eye on you and the mark.

He watches as you smile and blush when gentlemen approach you. He also takes in how some of the ladies look at you as you walk by. Jack knows you are a beautiful creature, even without all the makeup and the fancy clothes. Something stirs deep inside of Jack. Is it infatuation? Is it, perhaps, jealously?

When he had heard you were accompanying him his heart leapt. He had been sweet on you since you had begun working for Statesman, was upset when Champ partnered you with Tequila instead of him. He pinned after you for two years and he finally got to work with you. And now, other men were asking you to dance instead of him. He reminded himself you two were here for a job first and foremost.

Jack grasps the bannister as he watches a man take your hand and escorts you to the dance floor. He tightens the grip as jealousy makes his blood boil. He wishes he were the one dancing with you. Wishes his hand was on your lower back, wishes it was his hand your hand was holding as he led you across the dance floor. He wanted to know what your body felt like against his, he wanted to feel your soft skin against his. Jack wanted more than a dance, he wanted all of you.

“You okay Jack?” Ginger’s crisp voice questions.

Jack groans, “I’m fine Ginger.”

“Y/N can’t hear us Jack. Your heartrate is elevated along with your blood pressure. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jack huffs, “where’s the mark? All these goddamn masks! It’s frustrating!” Along with seeing you dance with a man who isn’t him.

“Our source indicated he’d be wearing a suit with coattails along with a gold Venetian mask with what looks like a harp in the middle then a horse on each side of the harp. He has a red and black rose boutonniere pinned to his suit jacket,” Ginger replies.

Jack’s eyes scan over the crowd. He doesn’t see the mark on the first sweep, but then his eyes travel back to you. “Fuck,” Jack mutters under his breath.

“What?” Ginger asks sharply.

The mark is dancing with Y/N, Jack thinks as he tries to formulate a plan is his mind.

After several beats, Ginger pipes back up, “Jack! What is it?”

“I got this handled Ginger,” Jack sighs heavily, “no worries. I promise.” At least he’ll try to promise himself he has this handled.

Jack slowly makes his way down the staircase. His deep brown eyes remaining on you as you dance with the mark. He takes in your eyes holding the other man’s gaze. His mind racing with questions.

Does she know its him? Does she know she’s dancing with the mark? Is she safe, Jack snorts softly, of course she’s safe, you’re here cowboy.

Jack hears your soft laugh as he approaches you dancing with the gentleman. He sees your eyes catch him, sees the slight shake of your head.

She knows, Jack thinks as he stands frozen. His mind scrambling with thoughts of recusing her and hopefully her thanking him later tonight back at his apartment.

Jack balls his hands into fists. Anger and jealously sweeping throughout his body. He’s been trained to rescue those in help, those in need. And you needed him, you needed his help. “Fuck,” Jack curses under his breath and continues walking towards to you and the mark.

“Excuse me,” Jack drawls sweetly as he taps on the gentleman’s shoulder.

You look at Jack in shock and surprise. You had given a shake of your head, fending him off. You knew the man you were dancing with was the mark. You had clearly heard Ginger in your coms bud giving you a description of the mark a minute before you made sure to walk into his eyesight.

“The lady and I are dancing here,” the mark states. He doesn’t remove his hands from your body.

“You’ve been dancing with her long enough,” Jack hisses quietly. He’s holding himself back from punching the gentleman. “I think it’s time to let someone else have a dance with the beautiful lady.”

The mark stands tall, confident. “The lady hasn’t complained—”

Jack steps forward, nearly getting in the man’s face. “She is tiring of you sir.”

You watch as Jack and the mark stand thisclose and face on another. You never had to deal with Tequila being this…jealous? Was Jack jealous of a man dancing with you? Or was it the fact it was the mark dancing with you and not some civilian?

You clear your throat, “gentlemen. I can handle myself. Thank you very much.” You smile weakly at them as they both turn and look at you. “Besides everything has been taken care of.”

Jack raises a brow. He knows what you are referring to – the tracker. The mark on the other hand just shakes his head.

“Obviously this gentleman wants to dance with you mi lady,” the mark slightly bows then moves on, “maybe a dance for after dinner?”

You smile politely, give a curt nod, “maybe.”

The mark nods in return then excuses himself and walks away.

Your eyes on him as the mark retreats. You move your eyes sharply to Jack, “I had everything under control Jack,” you emphasize his name with a hiss, “I didn’t need you coming to my rescue.”

“I, uh,” Jack stutters, “I just thought you needed help. Not rescuing.” But he did want to rescue you.

“Help. Rescue,” you shrug, “basically mean the same thing,” you sigh heavily at his silence, “Ginger informed me of his description seconds before he approached me and asked for a dance. I was shocked but thankful I didn’t have to seek him out.”

Jack frowns, “she described him to me then I saw him with you. I’m sorry. I got caught up in the moment.” No, you got jealous. “But you did place the tracker on him?”

You nod, “yes. Don’t worry. Ginger said it’s activated. We’ll finally get him Jack. And the Statesman will be able to get more information on Poppy.”

The Statesman had been gathering information on Poppy Adams for months now, concerned she was going to release a drug to the world’s population. The mark you had placed the tracker on was dating the woman, and hopefully keeping tabs on him would lead the Statesman to Poppy’s lair because she’s hidden away from the world.

Jack moves his eyes up and down your body. He has the opening to ask for your hand. He holds his out, “will you dance with me?”

Your heart skips a beat as you look down at Jack’s outstretched hand. He did help me, your mind thinks as you gnaw absentmindedly on your bottom lip, what the hell. You smile, “yes.”

Jack smiles brightly, keeps the moan inside of him as he feels your soft hand in his. Your hand is small in his brawny one as he pulls you close with his other hand and places it on your lower back. His body filling with warmth as he’s able to feel you against him.

After minutes twirling around in silence to the music and moving around other couples on the dance floor, Jack finds his voice, “you should be my partner.”

What, you think as his mind draws you away from the music and concentrating on moving your feet in the right direction. You hum lightly trying to absorb Jack’s words. “I am Tequila’s partner Jack.”

Jack sighs, “but it’s Tequila,” he says the agent’s name with disdain, “I’m sure being stuck in Kentucky isn’t thrilling. The city is thrilling Y/N. I could show you around the town.” And my place.

“I don’t get into bed with my partners Jack,” you retort. You smile and continue as he looks at you in disbelief, “if you want something with me, I cannot work as your partner.”

Jack let’s your words sink in. I have a chance. “So, maybe I have a chance?”

You laugh lightly, keeping in the back of your mind you know he’s a charmer and a flirt. You are going to take this one step at a time. “Maybe Jack. But it’s one chance. Just. One.”

Tags: @random066​, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​, @pascalisthepunkest​, @caitlincat-95​, @pedrosdoll​, @knight-of-heart44​, @arrowswithwifi​, @bonkybaaarnes​, @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​, @longitud-de-onda​, @readsalot73​, @earl-01​, @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8​, @halefirewarrior​, @ezraslittlebirdie​, @kaelyn-lobrutto24​, @stardust-and-starlight​

[wide-eyed--wonderer]

“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!”

Ok so I did not plan the first part of this fic, it just kinda happened. Also, I know nothing about fashion or tux OR tux fittings. So like, I apologies for that. 

“Race if you don’t get our ass downstairs in 10 minutes, I will come up there and pour cold water over you AND Spot.” 

Race groaned at Albert's voice over the speakerphone and curled in closer to Spot. 

“Sweet, you have to get up,” Spot sighed, attempting to push Race away from him, which only caused his fiance to curl in tighter. 

“It’s too early Spottie,” Race whined, “Al can wait 5 more minutes.”

“Race, hunny, you know I love you with all my heart, but if your best friend comes up here and pours water over me because your ass was too lazy to get out of bed, I will kill you.” Spot successfully manoeuvred himself out from under Race and pushed him off the bed. 

“Problem solved, you’re up.”

“You are the worst Sean.” Race glared from the floor. 

“And you are a lazy ass, Tony. Go get ready and to help your best friend out.”

Race sighed, knowing he had lost the fight and that Albert really did need him right now. 

He got downstairs just within Albert’s ten-minute deadline. 

“Let me guess, Spot convinced you to get out of bed?” Albert greeted Race. 

“Convinced, pushed me out of bed, tomato tomato. Point is, I’m here now, at this ungodly time of morning you heathen. Let’s go do this thing so I can get back to bed.’

“Firstly Race, its 9am, not that early, second of all, take back the heathen statement because I’m your best friend and brought you coffee.” Race’s eyes widened at the coffee in Albert’s hand, snatching it from him and taking a long sip of it.

“Albert you are my favourite human being on the planet I’m sorry for ever saying otherwise.” Race got out, in between drowning himself in the coffee. 

“C’mon you, idiot. We’ve got places to be!” Albert cuffed Race on the back of his head and started walking.

“So Al,” Race said between sips of his coffee, “how ya feeling? You nervous?”

“About marrying Elmer, absolutely not. About the rest of the day, absolutely.” 

“Well as your best man,” Race nudged Al, “talk to me about it, see what I can do to help ya.”

“Well, really I’m just nervous about my extended family mingling with all of you guys and - Race have you finished that coffee already, it’s been like 5 minutes and that was a venti?” Race shrugged in response, throwing the empty Starbucks cup in a trashcan as they walked past. “You're insane. As I was saying, I love all you guys, but I’m not as… open? I guess with my extended family. I don’t want any of them to say anything and ruin the day of Elmer.”

“And you.” Race added.

“Yeah, I guess.” Al looked down, “but Elmer didn’t ask for that.”

Race put his hands on Albert's shoulder, causing Albert to stop and look at his best friend. 

“First of all, you didn't ask for this either. I know your extended fam can be kinda a nightmare. It's not your fault. Secondly, I will be responsible for making sure all our friends behave. Ok. Just leave it up to me. And maybe a few threats from Spot”

Albert snorted. “Thanks, Race. You're the best.”

“Anytime Al. And we’re here.” Tace opened the door. “After you, good sir.”

“Dumbass.”

Race’s retort was cut off by a sales assistant. 

“Hello boys, what can I do for you today?” 

“My good friend Albert here,” Race said, placing a hand on Albert’s shoulder, “ is getting married and needs a tux.” 

“Of course come through to the fitting room, and will get you some suits to try on.”

As the boys were waiting in the fitting room, Albert turned to Race. 

“I need you to be completely honest with me. I’m shit at fashion and what looks good.”

“I knew you only kept me around all these years for my impeccable fashion sense.”

“Well clearly, it wasn’t for your shining personality.”

Race’s retort was again cut off by the shop assistant. But he had his back turned, so Race stuck out a tongue at Albert who rolled his eyes right back. 

“If you come through here sir, you can try on this first suit.” 

When Albert came out again, he could see Race containing a laugh. 

“What do you think?” The shop assistant asked Albert. Albert, having no fashion sense, looked helplessly to Race, who swallowed a laugh and said,

“Maybe not coattails, and could we look at a grey suit as well. And a tie, no bowtie.” 

“Of course.” The shop assistant nodded. “You boys wait here. I’ll be right back.”

The second the assistant was out the door, Race started laughing. In between wheezes, he barked out 

“You… you look like… like…. Like a penguin.” Causing Race to collapse into even more laughter. And Albert to walk over and start hitting with his cap he’s walked over in. 

“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!”

“I hate you. Why do I keep you around again.”

“So you don’t look like a penguin at your wedding.” Race had a point, the suit had long coattails, and with the white shirt, bowtie and tophat Albert was wearing. He looked a little like a penguin. 

Luckily he managed to compose himself before the Shop assistant came back. 

Half an hour later, the boys left the shop, with an appointment to come back the following week for a fitting for the grey suit that Race had picked out.

“So, Spot’s gone to work. Wanna get lunch.”

“You mean, wanna go annoy Charlie at Jacobi while he’s working?”

“You know me too well Al.” Race replied, linking arms with his best friend and walking toward Jacobis. 

There you go! let me know what you think!! 

[crowempress]

Prom! 🌸🌸

Mutuals and minors can rb!

[pop-punklouis]

happy to announce that earlier today Home and Only the Brave got married! Home wore an ivory silk pioni gown trimmed with beads and lace, and it’s grandmother’s pearl necklace. Only the Brave was decked in a black tux with coattails while carrying a breathtaking bouquet of flowers. congrats to the newlywed couple! wish you all the best xx