#dubai impeccable

[captainfern]

Reader and ghost fake dating for a mission with a twist.It’s a masquerade ball so Ghost wears a fancy little mask instead of his usual skull. Reader gets worked up seeing him in a tux with his hair and part of his face out so they ditch their mics and abandon the mission to go fuck in a bathroom. Just a thought… 🤭🤭

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Master of Puppets

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

[“Master of Puppets” by Metallica]

[18+]

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• summary - you and ghost getting all dressed up for a ball ends in you and ghost fucking in the bathroom lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.6k • warnings - fem!reader, unprotected piv, semi-public sex, handjobs idk, ghost is a little possessive of his sergeant, strong language

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ok you requested this while my requests were closed and usually i just delete them BUT you're lucky i'm horny for this idea

i'm imagining him in a peaky blinders style three-piece suit and i'm going insane why do i do this to myself

You weren't a stranger to the "fake dating" type of mission. You had done it with Gaz just a few months prior to infiltrate enemy operations at a charity event in Dubai.

So, when that exact type of mission came around again, you were prepared for what it would take.

"Playing boyfriend-girlfriend again, Garrick?" You quipped at Gaz a few minutes before Price's usual briefing.

He smiled, but shook his head. "Not me, sarge."

You made a face of confusion, before Gaz threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing directly at Ghost. Ghost raised his head from the files he had been reading.

"Seriously?" You gaped, surprised.

Ghost shook his head slowly, muttering out a sarcastic comment, "Dial down the excitement, sergeant."

Now, you stood in the bathroom of your hotel room, smoothing your hands down the fabric of your dress, admiring yourself. It was an absolutely stunning dress that clung to you in all the right ways. Designer label, too, leaving you wondering how the hell Price got his hands on it. Probably Laswell.

There was a light knock on your door before it opened, and you walked into the bedroom so you could slip your heels on. Soap and Price entered, dressed impeccably in suits. You stood at the foot of the bed as they walked in, and you admired them with a big smile.

"You two look very handsome." You said.

"Thank you," Price said, adjusting his tie. "You look absolutely radiant, sarge."

You laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed so you could fasten your heels to your feet, as well as strap your handgun to the strap around your upper thigh.

Soap gaped at you, eyes raking down the entirety of your body while you exposed a leg, tightening the holster around it.

"You're smokin', lass," he said, shock edging his words. "Ghost won't be able to focus."

You rolled your eyes, sliding your gun into place before standing up, settling your dress over top of it, trying your best to make the imprint not obvious.

The three of you left the hotel ten minutes later. A black SUV with tinted windows waited outside, and Soap opened the door for you. Price grabbed hold of your arm before you slid inside, leaning close to your ear.

"Remember, you and Ghost are there to get intel. You don't engage with any of the targets, understood? Soap and I will be nearby if you run into any trouble."

"Understood." You nodded, before clambering into the black SUV. Soap mouthed good luck to you before he turned away, just as Ghost walked slowly down the steps, Gaz a few metres behind.

Your eyes widened. He looked fucking good.

A black three piece suit, complete with the waistcoat and everything. He wasn't wearing gloves, exposing large, strong hands with prominent veins and silver rings around his fingers. What shocked you the most, however, was the silver mask covering most of the top half of his face. It shined in the light of the hotel entrance. As he neared the car, you could see his lips, his jawline, his chin, scars littering the flesh.

You pressed your thighs together.

Price said something to Ghost, and then Soap did as well. Finally, Ghost looked into the car where you waited patiently, and you watched as his lips parted in what could be best described as a small gasp.

"Sergeant..." He trailed off, taking in your dress, your face, your body, you.

"Lieutenant," you nodded at him. "You look nice. Very dapper."

He grunted deeply, sliding into the seat next to you. His body radiated heat that you could feel. He smelt good, too. You bit your lip as his strong thigh pressed against yours.

With a final few good lucks from the boys, the car was pulling away from the hotel and heading for the venue. You and Ghost didn't exchange much conversation, but as you looked out the window, you felt the heat of his gaze on you. You turned your head, catching his bright eyes following the curves of your dress.

You ignored the flip in your stomach at the weight of desire in his eyes. "Like what you see?" You joked, and his eyes snapped up to look at you.

He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you, before he fished something out of his jacket pocket. He held it out to you, still not quite meeting your eyes. It was a silver mask, much like his, but a bit smaller, with finer details carved around the edges. It was really pretty.

"It's a masquerade ball, so I figured you'd need this." Ghost grumbled, retracting his hands straight away as you took the mask from him.

"Matching?" You smiled.

"I figured... I mean— it was Soap's idea, so if you don't want... you don't, you know—"

"I love it, sir, I do," you said softly, and he sighed deeply through his nose. You then angled your body away from him, pressing the mask to your face with the ribbons dangling either side. "Do you mind tying it for me?"

Ghost said nothing, but took hold of the two ribbons and brought them to the back of your head. He carefully tied a bow, keeping your mask secure against your face. You could feel the soft rhythm of his breathing against your back, and the warmth of his bare hands near the base of your neck.

"Done?" You asked, looking at yourself in the windows reflection.

Ghost swallowed thickly, ignoring something stirring deep within the pit of his stomach. "Yeah."

•º•

You felt somewhat confident walking into the event with Ghost on your arm. All eyes turned towards the handsomely dressed man, clearly well-built beneath the suit and obviously attractive beneath the silver mask. He captured this attention like a natural, which you couldn't come to grips with. He was so calm, collected. You felt as though you were going to burst into tears at any moment.

But you didn't. You wouldn't. Not with the way Ghost circled an arm around your lower back, a hand pressed hot above your arse. Not with the way he kept you pressed to your side, his towering frame shielding you from at least one line of prying eyes.

But, you felt eyes on you too. Eyes on the pretty girl next to the man with the silver mask. They admired you from close and afar, watching the way your dress dipped around your body, and the way your silver mask glittered under the light of the crystal chandeliers.

"Alright, sarge?" Ghost whispered, thumb rubbing circles on your lower back.

"Yep," you squeaked out, the movement of his hand making your body grow hot. "You good?"

"Mhm." He hummed, already surveying the room.

—Okay, you two. Try and get as much information out of these rich-listers as you can—, Price's voice filtered in through your earpiece. —I would say don't draw attention to yourselves, but it seems it's a bit late for that. You're probably the youngest, most attractive pair in that room tonight—.

"Aw, cap, you flatter us." You joked, snagging two flutes of champagne from the tray of a passing waitress.

—Just don't get distracted—. Price grumbled, before his voice was gone from your ear.

You held a glass of champagne out for Ghost, who just stared at it. You were already raising yours to your lips, drinking the bubbling liquid in small sips. Finally, he took it from you, but didn't drink.

"Shouldn't be drinking on the job." He said gruffly as you finished your drink, placing the empty glass on a nearby table.

"Says who?" You question, taking the second flute from him since he obviously wasn't going to drink it.

"Says me."

"Pfft, you're not the boss of me." You quipped, downing the second glass of champagne. It was mostly to steel your nerves— which were on fire with anxiety.

He rolled his eyes. "I am the boss of you."

"Oh yeah."

•º•

An hour or so went by and you found yourself sat at the bar. It was a pretty place, decked out in gold and glittering crystal lights. You'd spent the past hour gathering as much information about your rich-list targets as you could, with said information being filtered back through your ear-piece, directly back to Gaz in the hotel room.

Ghost had vanished to investigate further, leaving you alone at the bar, a small glass of water in your hand. You'd thrown back a few flutes of champagne and you realised that water was probably your best bet for the rest of the night.

"What's a pretty lady like you sitting here without company?" Came a voice behind you, and you rolled your eyes.

What a cringe line. Embarrassing.

You plastered a polite smile across your face as a man took the barstool beside you, a simple black mask over his features.

"My company's just gone outside for a smoke." You lied naturally, smile not breaking.

"And he's left you all alone?"

"Mhm, but I'm perfectly fine being by myself," you said. "But it was nice to meet you." You finished with the hopes that he'd take the fucking hint and leave.

He didn't take the hint.

"Well, at least let me by you a drink." He offered.

You shook your head. "I'm fine, thank you."

He took that surprisingly well, but his stare was lingering and uncomfortable as it travelled down the length of your body. You felt goosebumps ripple across your exposed flesh, a grimace threatening to overtake your practised smile.

"You look stunning, by the way," he said. "Absolutely beautiful. Are you sure I can't buy you a drink?"

You sighed. "The drinks are free and, no thank you."

"Are you sure—?"

You felt Ghost's presence before he even spoke.

You felt the looming warmth press to your back, the tower of mass that overshadowed your frame. You couldn't help but lean back a bit, his chest and upper abdomen pressing firmly along your spine. Then, a built arm draped over your shoulders, wrapping just above your tits and pulling you closer against him.

"Can I help you?" Ghost asked, voice even, accent thick.

The man had to crane his head to look up at Ghost. "Just keeping the pretty lady company."

Ghost grunted. "I suggest you move on. Keep someone else company, why don't you."

The man swallowed nervously. "I didn't—"

"Go." Ghost ordered simply, and the man was scurrying away before you could even blink.

You looked up at Ghost, top of your head leaning against his chest. "Thanks." You muttered, waiting for him to let go of you.

He didn't. His hand and arm held you closer, his eyes dragging down your face and your body. His other hand came to rest on your jaw, his thumb trailing along the bone. Then it swiped upwards, along your cheek before pressing to your lips, smearing the shimmering gloss.

You were frozen.

"Ghost—?"

"You're the prettiest woman in this fucking room, you know that?" He muttered lowly, thumb skirting along the seam of your lips.

You didn't answer, just stared up at him. His rings were cold against the side of your face.

The moment was thick with tension, and heat pooled in your belly. You felt his chest rise and fall, a bit quicker than it did in the car ride to the event. His pupils were blown, too, between the slots in the mask, and he ran the point of his tongue across his bottom lip.

—Aww, how romantic—, Soap's voice burst in your ear, and both you and Ghost jolted.

"Fucking hell, Johnny," Ghost cursed, grip on your face tighter. "I'm turning this fucking mic off. I'm sick of hearing your voice."

Soap laughed. —You wouldn't dare—

Ghost switched his ear-piece off, before closing his fingers around yours too. He switched it off, and Soap's voice died in your ear.

You gasped. "Ghost—"

He hauled you off of the seat while you were mid-sentence, planting you on your feet with your chest now pressed to his.

"Follow me." He growled.

You could feel his cock hardening in his suit trousers.

•º•

Ghost locked the door of the bathroom behind you, before he was slamming you against it, hiking your legs around his waist. His mouth smashed to yours, and you gasped, barely having enough time to respond before his tongue was surging inwards.

The kiss choked you, full of emotion. Ghost's large frame towering over you, caging you to the door. One of his hands gripped your thigh, keeping your body pinned between his and the door. His other hand gripped the underside of your jaw, angling your face so he could press deeper into the kiss.

The material of the silver masks you were both wearing bumped together with each desperate movement of your mouths. You were able to respond now; winding your arms around his shoulders, delving one hand into his hair, pulling his face closer to yours. Ghost groaned into the kiss as you tugged at the roots of his hair, and he pulled away to look down at you.

"Such a tease," he muttered, before dragging his lips across your jaw and down your neck. "Wearing this pretty dress, too."

His lips found the strap on your shoulder, teeth skimming the material before he was kissing along your collarbone. You angled your face upwards so he could suck along the soft expanse of your throat. He still gripped your jaw firmly as he did so, and he moved your head himself when he wanted to nip at the sensitive skin below your ear.

"Fucking stunning," he said, breathless, before he was stepping back to get a better look at you. You squirmed under his gaze, drawing your thighs together as your core gained a heartbeat. You whined, and he chuckled lowly, dropping your leg off of his waist. "So pretty."

"Simon..." You pleaded, his real name slipping past your lips before you could stop yourself. Your body was simmering hot with arousal, your core aching just by the way Ghost was looking at you.

Not to mention how fucking good he looked in that suit.

Clearly, you were having much the same effect on him.

He huffed deeply, unbuttoning his trousers, his hard cock imprinted through the material. You swallowed as you watched his trousers drop slightly as he pulled his cock out of his boxers, eyes raking up and down your body. And you weren't even showing anything yet.

"Acting like a Victorian man," you couldn't help but joke. "Seeing a sliver of shoulder and a bit of ankle's got you worked up?"

You laughed lightly, seeing Ghost roll his eyes behind the mask. He grunted, the closest thing to a verbal reply, as he gripped his cock and moved closer to you. Your breath hitched as he closed the gap, kissing you hard.

His cock pressed to your abdomen, warm and hard through the expensive material of your dress. You whined softly against Ghost's tongue, moving a hand to enclose around his length also.

Ghost choked on a low moan, pulling out of the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. The both of you staying like that, eyes directed down between your bodies as you gripped his cock, hand right beside his own.

You used the beads of pre-cum pearling at his slit to ease your movements, fisting a hand up and down, making Ghost grumble deep in his chest. Foreheads still pressed together, you both watched as you jerked him off. His hand remained tight at the base, unmoving despite your best efforts to encourage him.

The bathroom was filled with his soft noises; noises that ignited the fire in your belly further, your core throbbing, soaking your underwear. You hummed softly at him, some kind of a whine, as you pumped him faster, feeling him twitch in your hand.

He groaned and grunted softly, his breaths deep and laboured. His cock twitched with each of your movements, drops of pre rolling in a steady pattern along a vein. You collected them in the grooves of your palm, your movements sliding, sending soft, wet clicking sounds into the bathroom as well.

It felt like Ghost was entranced with the way he was looking at your hand moving along his cock. So when he felt his orgasm creeping up the back of his spine, he internally cursed.

He grabbed your wrist and pried your hand from his cock with a hiss, screwing his eyes closed as the feeling of release seeping away. He'd just edged himself, and he didn't even fucking mean too.

"Fuck, gotta be inside you," he muttered, kissing your forehead as he changed positions. "Not gonna last like this."

He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around him. You helped him wriggle the material of your dress around your waist, and he hummed in satisfaction. You braced one hand around his broad shoulders, the other on the door at your side for stability.

"Fucking hell..." Ghost ran a finger up your slit over your underwear. The material was damp with your arousal, and the feeling of his finger made you squirm in his hold.

"Simon, please—"

"Absolutely soaked..." He wasn't really listening to you. He was too busy playing with the material of your underwear, rubbing up your folds and feeling the way your arousal soaked through.

You quickly moved your hand from the door and fisted a handful of his hair, urging his head to look up. He grunted, gritting his teeth as he finally looked you dead in the eye while you tugged at his hair.

"Simon." You said, commanding as much of his attention as you could.

He licked his lips. "Hm?"

"Fuck me."

"Christ," he whispered, the hand stroking you through your underwear hooking beneath the material. He simply pulled it to the side, exposing your wet cunt. His pupils dilated. "Fucking Christ."

"Don't bring Christ into this." You joked again, and Ghost grunted deeply in response, giving you no warning before he was easing his cock into you.

You spluttered around a moan as his cock filled you abruptly, your hands moving to grip Ghost's shoulders tightly. Your head fell forward, resting against his chest, and you moaned loudly.

His cock nudged that spot inside you that had your cunt fluttering around him, making him groan. He grit his teeth to restrict most of the noises, but he couldn't help himself. Not with the way your cunt was squeezing his cock, all wet and warm and tight.

"Come on, sergeant, come on," Ghost whispered, moving his hips back and slamming into you again. He began to build pace and rhythm with each one of his thrusts. "Let me hear those pretty noises. Come on."

You moaned again, high and breathy as the head of his cock punched the air out of your fucking lungs. He fucked you against the door, the wet sounds of your arousal spurring his movements further.

"Simon, gotta be quiet. Someone m-might hear— ah, fuck—" You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle the moans being torn from your throat by the way Ghost was fucking you.

"Let them hear," he whispered in your ear. "Let them hear how good I make you feel, eh? Let them hear how good you are at taking my cock."

Your head fell backwards against the wooden door, eyes rolling as a string of whimpers were pulled from your lips. Ghost rutted into you, grunting softly as he did, listening to the sounds from your mouth and your cunt. He held your hips, keeping you pinned to the door and unable to move so he could slam deeper and deeper inside you.

You arousal was pooling around his cock with each thrust, now dripping down the insides of your thighs. You could faintly feel your underwear in the crease of your thigh, pushed haphazardly out of the way to make room for Ghost. But you didn't care— you were too focused on the huge fucking cock that was inside you right now.

You couldn't help the whines and soft moans that left your mouth. Your body was burning up, stomach drawing tight as your impending orgasm grew more intense with each rut of Ghost's cock.

"Simon..." You moaned, and Ghost had to compose himself so he didn't come right then and there. You sounded so good, so fucking pretty moaning his name like that.

"Yeah, baby? Feel's good?" He murmured against your skin as he kissed along your jaw. "You wanna come?"

You nodded, fingernails scratching down his shoulders. You whimpered desperately, legs quivering in his hold.

"Let go, pretty girl. Come 'round my cock... that's it."

You came with a loud moan of his name, and he slammed his mouth to yours to swallow it whole. Your cunt spasmed around his cock as he fucked you roughly through your orgasm, heat blooming across your skin. He pulled his face away from yours, lips brushing as he panted, chasing his own high.

"F-fuck," he whispered, releasing inside you, followed by a carnal groan into the curve of your neck. He filled you, hot and thick, and the sensations of it flooding your womb made you close your eyes. He didn't pull out for a while. He just held you to the door, breathing deeply. "Alright, sergeant?"

"Yeah... fine..." You breathed. "We should, um, probably get back to the mission."

"Give me a minute." He groaned, still deep inside you, making you laugh.

•º•

When you did finally leave the bathroom, you made yourself look as presentable as you could before you left a couple of minutes after Ghost. You shoved your ear-piece back into your ear and turned it on. Immediately, you were greeted by Soap's voice.

—Good bathroom break, sarge?—

"Shut up, Soap."

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lazy writing sorry i'm tired lol

[blacclotusss]

The Light in the Dark

For Rewind the Tape: Episode 2, I had two favorite outfits; I just simply could not choose between the two. The white suit Louis wore when he killed the man who dabbled in fuckery is perfection. Red, white, and blue have gone together for centuries, but have we ever seen it look this good? I think not. Once again, the silhouette is impeccable on Louis' frame even though it seems "oversized". I adore the mix of stripes on both the tie and shirt, as well as that pleated left breast pocket.

The black tunic Louis wears in present-day Dubai is the epitome of what some may call "quiet luxury". The fabric looks like to be a silk material, very expensive of course, and settles on the skin like a soft blanket. Many think the looks in Dubai are just regular and bland, but if you truly pay attention, Louis is as impeccably dressed as he was back in New Orleans.

@iwtvfanevents 🌞🌑

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 42)

Alexia Putellas x Character (9)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**Mentions of Lucy/YFN.* *What happens when two dominant people start falling for each other? This... :')* *I think this is my favourite chapter so far...**))

Alexia had her arms crossed over her body as she watched Lucy and her girlfriend through the glass at the airport. Lucy was the type of person to be so brutal on the field, so dedicated in her work, and so unapologetically independent. There were occasions where she was excited enough for physical contact with people, though they were rare, because that was the soft side of her that you only see if you truly knew her well. Even then, she hid it extremely well, even when she was with Keira.

Not now though. Alexia watched Lucy and YFN move like there was a cord connected between them, their movements naturally synced and complementing each other. And then there were the looks, the longing, the love, the hopeless expressions that were exchanged with smiles and blushes, many of which were one staring without the other noticing. It made Alexia feel a lot of things to see them like this. To see Lucy be so happy, so touchy, so in love. It now made sense to her why Lucy was always lost in a daydream since she’d returned from the last international break. Because she was always thinking about her; because this was one of those things you only see in movies or read about in poetry.

“They are cute, no?”

Alexia flinched at the voice which was a lot closer than she expected. She turned to Ridley who was leant against her car, hands clasped casually behind her back as she studied Alexia’s face. Her famous all-too-neutral expression usually helped her disguise her emotions, yet she felt Ridley could see right through it. And she could. Just the slightest hint of downturned eyebrows, her mouth set a little too hard, and the biggest giveaway, her eyes. Alexia’s eyes were like an open book for her, betraying her deepest feelings, and right now she could see…longing.

“I guess.”

“I prefer absolutes.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow, her face otherwise staying the same. “Is there a way to absolutely tell if tonight is going to be awkward between the two of us?”

Ridley smiled and Alexia watched the scar on her cheek shift with the movement of her face. “Awkward is fun, no?” She pushed off from the car and opened the door, gesturing Alexia in as if she were a chauffeur. “La Reina.”

Alexia looked at the fact that she’d opened the rear car door, and not the front. She was unsure if Ridley expected her to call her bluff, but she did anyways. She slid into the back seat as if she were an actual Queen, and Ridley an actual chauffeur. Bluff called. Alexia watched a smile creep over her face at her unexpected cheekiness as she closed the door. Alexia 1, Ridley 0.

“Ridley! It’s been too long! How are you?” The restaurant owner was gushing over the couple as they came in. “And I see your taste in women is impeccable, how lucky we are for you to bring the la Reina to our little restaurant.”

Ridley shared a grin and a polite half-hug with him. Did she know everyone? “Emiliano, I hope your family are well. Yes, I’ve been busy. I took a few contracts in Dubai recently so I’ve been gone for most of the year there.”

Alexia’s interest peaked at that. That’s where she’d been?

“My daughter wants to do that one day too. She’s so excited! Won’t shut up about it. Oh well, I’m glad you’re back. You look beautiful, as do you, Miss Putellas. As luck would have it, I have your favourite table free! Follow me.”

Usually Alexia was the centre of attention. The one who lead the way and had to do all of the talking and pleasantries. Here with Ridley she felt the opposite and it was…incredibly refreshing. Alexia followed closely behind Ridley, studying her back as she walked with such confidence. They reached her ‘favourite table’ which sported a stunning view of the city, but also retained a little privacy from half of the restaurant. In addition to that, she couldn’t help but realise how humble Emiliano had been when he’d said ‘little restaurant’. It looked and felt Michelin Star. Emiliano shared a gesture with Ridley that she didn’t see, and he stepped back as Ridley took his place to push Alexia’s chair in behind her. Another new fact about Ridley she’d just learnt. Chivalry. Alexia 1 – Ridley 1.

Ridley sat opposite her and pulled her own seat in. Alexia watched the two exchange a few more pleasantries and small talk before he gave them the chef specials and recommendations and left with a smile. The restaurant was so nice that the menus didn’t have prices. Cost was never a factor for Alexia anymore, though she felt like it helped her get to know the woman opposite her a little more. Gone were the days of the mysterious woman from the bar. Or so she thought.

They weren’t speaking, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, Alexia felt very comfortable, even with the astonishingly distracting tension between the two. If Ridley felt it, she hid it well. Alexia stared at the menu, not really seeing the words until two fingers gripped the top of her menu and gently lowered it so she could see her eyes.

“Are you going to hide behind your menu all night?”

“I was considering it.” She murmured, embarrassed she’d just been called out. Usually Alexia was the cool, calm person in control.

“And deprive me of those eyes?”

There’s that cheeky audacity. She made it worse by keeping that eye contact, making Alexia feel seen. And surprisingly safe also.

Alexia thought it best to not encourage her. “Any suggestions?”

“The salmon. I dreamt about it for days after.”

Everything sounded so flirty from her mouth. Perhaps it was.

“Okay.” She said and put her menu down as if to show she was done hiding. “And for you?”

Ridley hadn’t even opened her menu.

“Emiliano suggested the sirloin. Are you okay with wine during your season?”

“Si.”

Ridley raised her hand without her elbow leaving the table, and a server appeared, as if she’d been watching. Ridley handed her both menus and ordered for both of them with a wine pairing. Alexia noticed the girl staring at Ridley as if she was in love with her, or as if they’d had sex. After a few more seconds, she would have put money on it being the latter. Her emotions were poorly covered with longing looks and presumably old memories. Ridley’s expression, however, didn’t change. It was neutral, polite, unbothered. Usually in a situation like this, the person would be extra cold, or awkward, or making it obvious that it had meant nothing to them. Ridley did none of those things because she actually cared. Alexia had noticed that about her. She was so aware of people’s feelings, her intelligence shining through and although she had a perfectly composed self, that deep part of her could be brought out. She’d seen it in the worry in her eyes last night. She’d seen it in her amused expression in the rear-view as she and YFN had their little back and forth in the car. She’d seen it in the melancholy look that appeared for a split second when Alexia had said she was going to spend Christmas with her family.

When the server was gone, Ridley’s attention turned back to her date and just when Alexia thought she’d say something teasing, she did the opposite.

“I apologise for last night, Alexia. I…mishandled the entire situation. I won’t give you any excuses. Simply, you deserved better.”

It was short and eloquent. Not riddled with personal wants and needs and reasons and excuses. Just a genuine apology. Unfortunately, that made Ridley even more attractive to her than she already was.

“I accept your apology. Thank you for saying that.”

She wondered if that was it. If that was all Ridley wanted from their dinner tonight. She really just wanted to get to know her better, and she didn’t know why.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure, I’ll try my best to answer it.”

Alexia hesitated, which she rarely did. “In the car when you asked me about Christmas, you seemed upset. Why?”

Ridley stared into her eyes as if she were wondering how honest she should be. “Because I don’t have a family. I have YFN and her nan and her brother, but we’re not biologically related.”

No family? “Why..?”

“It would dampen the mood of tonight.”

“I want to know. Besides, what do you expect from tonight?”

“I expect to have dinner with you and apologise. I’d say we’re off to a great start.”

“Ridley-”

Ridley’s eyes flashed something unknown. It was the first time she’d heard her name from Alexia’s lips.

“I’m much more than my past.”

Alexia knew that, of course, but could also tell it was Ridley’s way of asking her to stop. So she did.

“I know you are.”

Before Ridley could respond, the server was back with the wine. She held it up for Ridley to look at and she tasted it like a wine connoisseur before she accepted it. Alexia noticed the server intentionally brushing Ridley’s fingers with her own, hoping for a reaction. Most people would have reacted to the touch, but Ridley remained indifferent and polite.

“I have another question.”

“By all means.”

One of the benefits of them both having dominant personalities was their ability to be straight to the point and honest.

“What do you want from me?”

Ridley took a sip while she thought. “In general or tonight?”

“Both.”

“Tonight I wanted to apologise and make sure you have a nice meal after your game. In general, I’m not entirely sure.”

She was unsure what she wanted from her?

“Last night you said a few things I’d like clarification on.”

Ridley gave her a look that said she already knew what those things were. “I’ll do my best.”

“Four questions. Firstly, you said that you ‘come here to see’ me?”

“To the bar, yes. Exactly how you go just to see me.”

It wasn’t cockiness, it was an observant fact. She knew she was going just for her? Alexia felt herself getting shy. She was rarely shy. She pushed that aside.

“That’s fair,” she murmured. “You also said ‘I don’t think of you like that’.”

“I don’t. You’re much more than a body to me.”

“What am I?” It wasn’t one of her questions but she couldn’t help but whisper it.

Ridley frowned. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Is that why you ‘don’t know how to give me anything else’?”

“I don’t date, Alexia.”

“And you just assume that I do?”

“Do you not?”

She frowned. She did. “You didn’t give me a choice.”

“There was no choice to offer. We didn’t know each other. We still don’t.”

“We could have changed that if you hadn’t left.”

Those words hung in the air between them. Ridley had left, and she knew it would have hurt her, but she assumed it would hurt her less than actually getting to know her for who she was. Ridley didn’t open up to people. Better to leave than break her heart.

The server arrived again during their silence, and placed their food in front of them, giving an extra sweet smile to Ridley. She pretended not to see it, her eyes on Alexia.

“I’m excited for you to try that, the chef is incredible.” Ridley’s eyes flickered to Alexia’s dish while Alexia continued to stare at her.

“Why did you leave?”

She sighed and caught Alexia’s eye again.

“Because I’m not good for you.”

“Why?”

“Trust me, Alexia. I’m not good for anybody.”

“You’re good enough for the women you fuck.” Alexia’s jealousy hit like a slap in the face. Usually people enjoy seeing their partners jealous for them. Ridley, however, didn’t want to see Alexia upset in any way.

“They mean nothing to me.”

Questions swam in Alexia’s eyes. “Were you trying to push me away…?”

That surprised her. Alexia’s jealousy hadn’t hindered her confidence. She knew her worth. It was an alarmingly attractive quality for Ridley. “Yes.”

Alexia was grateful for the fact that Ridley didn’t lie. She’d answer honestly or not at all. “Why?”

“I told you why.”

“You never gave me a chance…”

Again, those words hung in the air and the heartbreak on Alexia’s face almost broke her. Ridley had never felt like that before. She never let herself get close enough to. “I’m not good for you..” she repeated as if she hadn’t understood the first time. It was a weak argument.

“And you’ve just made that decision for me then? I don’t get to decide what is and isn’t good for me? What I do and don’t want?” Alexia was a softy at heart and although she was fierce with her words, unfallen tears were building up in her eyes. “You may be used to being in control and telling people what to do, but you don’t get to do that with me. Not right now.”

It was like two dominant animals butting heads. Both knew their worth, and Ridley had absolutely done the wrong thing by shutting Alexia out. Though she’d told herself she hadn’t owed her anything, she knew she did from that very first moment they’d locked eyes in the bar almost a year ago. Everything she’d done from then had been for her, and without her having a say in the matter. She hadn’t realised how selfish she’d been. She’d convinced herself she was doing the right thing by her and her feelings, without considering her actual feelings, because Alexia had been just as involved as she was. She’d underestimated that.

“You’re right.”

Alexia was also surprised at how easy she’d admitted that. She opened her mouth to reply and was cut off.

“Eat your food before it’s cold. Then we’ll talk.”

That was a good example of the type of control Alexia could accept from her. But not her avidly taking away her choices regarding her emotions.

The salmon was incredible, and she told her just as much. Ridley was happy at that. The wine pairing went down perfectly with their food and soon enough, the plates were replaced with the dessert menu.

“I can’t…” Alexia started to say before she was distracted reading the menu.

“We can share.”

Their eyes met, both happy at the compromise. Alexia smiled and Ridley’s heart almost stopped at that. She was stunning. She didn’t know if she could tear her eyes from her lips, but luckily she was torn away by the server again.

“What can I get for you two?”

“We’re sharing.” She said, clapping her menu closed and handing it over, looking at the Barcelona Captain. “It’s your choice.”

The server looked a little upset by that, and almost unwillingly turned her attention to Alexia.

“The crema catalana, please.”

She gave her menu to the server who nodded and left. Only then did she see the grin on Ridley’s face, and couldn’t help her face reflecting it.

“What?”

“That’s my favourite. Anything with custard, or similar to it.”

It was another rare fact that Ridley happily shared with her. She made a mental note of it.

“Can we continue?”

“If you’d like.”

“I would.” Alexia was suddenly a little shy again. “You admit that I’m right?”

“Yes.”

“Care the expand on that?”

“It was…selfish of me to make decisions for you. I convinced myself it was what was best for you.”

“And if you hadn’t thought it was what was best for me?”

“I’d have fucked you many, many times, in many different ways by now.”

The comment was crass, but her expression wasn’t. She meant it.

“You don’t date…” She repeated from Ridley’s earlier statement.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Many reasons.”

“Such as?”

Ridley sighed. She obviously wasn’t going to let it go. “I’m…broken. I can’t love.  I discovered that when I was younger and made the mistake of being with people who I knew would fall for me and breaking their hearts. I didn’t want to do that to you.”

“You’ve never loved anyone?”

Ridley’s melancholy flashed across her face briefly. “I love YFN. I loved my brother.”

Loved. Alexia didn’t even have to ask the question.

“He’s dead.”

“And your family?”

Her jaw flexed. “The same.”

Alexia’s heart dropped. No wonder she’d looked so sad when Alexia had said she was spending Christmas with her family. She thought that ‘I don’t have a family’ meant they’d chosen to not recognise her for her sexuality or didn’t get along. She never assumed they were gone.

“I’m so-”

“Please don’t. I don’t want pity. It happened. It’s done.”

She left it for a minute before she whispered the next question. “Is that why you think you’re broken?”

“Alexia, I don’t want to talk about my past, or my faults tonight, please. I just want to have dinner with you.”

Her heart softened up at that admission. “We can do that…”

“Good.”

The crema catalana arrived then, with two spoons. Ridley picked hers up and noticed Alexia hadn’t taken hers. She was lost in thought. She took a breath and reached out, her fingers lightly touching one of Alexia’s hands on the table. That broke her thought as her eyes snapped up to meet Ridley’s.

“I’ll allow you one more question before we eat.”

It took her a few seconds to decide on which question to ask, Ridley’s fingertips warm and soft and distracting.

“Why did you leave?” She whispered.

“Because I was scared I would let you in if I stayed.”

Alexia inhaled sharply, blinking tears away. She wasn’t crazy. They did have a strong connection. And Ridley had just admitted that, unashamedly. Alexia knew how hard that must have been for her.

“Now eat, la Reina.”

The two ate dessert, unable to stop their satisfied hums as they did so, because it tasted incredible. Alexia made a note of the restaurant. She wanted to come back and bring her entire family and friends. As she thought that, the idea of Ridley being alone in the restaurant tugged at her heartstrings. Of course she’d never be alone. She’d be with a girl or a colleague, but that didn’t stop the fact that she’d be alone and would feel like it. Because no one can fill that empty space of family.

They finished quickly, Ridley paying for the meal before Alexia had a chance to argue. They said their goodbyes to Emiliano and this time when they reached the car, Ridley held the passenger door open for her.

Alexia’s grandmother’s house wasn’t far from the restaurant, and the drive was a comfortable, safe silence with Spanish music playing in the background softly. They’d both asked enough questions for the night.

As they arrive out the front, Ridley opened her door for her, and took her overnight duffle out, walking her up to the front door. The porch light was a dull yellow which made the gold flecks in Ridley’s eyes stand out even brighter. They shared a wordless smile until the sound of laughing filtered out through one of the front windows, and Ridley’s smile faltered a little. Alexia wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to invite her into her welcoming family and make her feel loved. All of that would have been too much though and besides, Ridley escaped before she had a chance to do anything.

She leant down and her lips brushed her cheek in a soft kiss. Alexia leant into her, and they stood like that for a little before Ridley was gone without a look back.

[feyyyd]

LOUMAND's OUTFITS IN DUBAI

that quote about how Armand's outfits always leave his neck exposed and open, because he doesn't really see anyone as a threat to himself because of his age and power (idk who said this, sorry. i figure it was someone from the costume department) got me thinking after last episode. this is what they started out looking like in the interview scenes in Dubai: Armand with a plunging neckline and Louis covered up as much as possible with his shirt of coice and always wearing black.

the first time this changes is in episode 4, which is where Armand learns that Louis had been hallucinating Lestat during their relationship. his neckline is deeper than ever, but for a change Louis' shirt is unbuttoned a bit as well. Notable is the black jacket Armand is wearing on top of his shirt, as he's not seen wearing black in Dubai before this.

so then I got curious, what about episode 5 where Armand's version of events is starting to get threatened by Louis and Daniel remembering his mindfuckery. turns out he starts and ends the episode wearing a turtleneck and high colloared coat. This is the most covered up the Dubai penthouse has seen him the entire season. him going out to hunt the crypto bro may be reason for this, but still. His outfit also got darker again, with the turtleneck being black and the coat a dark grey. Louis still wearing black, this time a comfy looking sweater.

moving on to episode 6, shit has hit the fan for Armand and he can't keep on pretending everything is just fine and dandy. Louis is still in his comfy black sweater, but we have Armand here with a black shirt, not too tight of a neckline but far more covered than in the first 4 episodes of the season.

and THEN episode 7, which made me start compiling this post. because look at this. Louis, for the first time in Dubai, wearing anything other than black AND a V-neck shirt. he's emotional about claudia's death and still angry about Armand's mindfuckery. and on the other hand we have Armand, who's most definitely more than aware of it, wearing black again and the same/similar shirt as last episode. this is the first time in Dubai Armand is more covered up than Louis.

well. in the finale they're both wearing the same thing as in the previous ep. Armand's web of lies got uncovered and in their last scene together he is far more vulnerable than Louis, outfit wise, for the first time looking anything other than impeccable with dirt all over him and cuts in his face and of course literally lying on the floor with Louis standing over him.

[pynkhues]

"especially given, y'know, what Sam wears in his day-to-day lol, I get the impression off the rack doesn't do much for him"

I don't usually pay close attention to men's fashion, so I was wondering if it was normal to have a shirt that seemed to fit well in the shoulders have SO much extra fabric around the waist lol

Do you remember any specific things that Carol said re: Sam? :) I've really loved reading her dives into the Louis/Claudia/Lestat Mardi Gras costumes and Louis and Claudia's 2.1 costumes.

Haha, it's kind of hard to tell, because the oversize fit for men is definitely in fashion right now, but his proportions do end up leaving him with so much fabric around the waist - he ends up looking a little concave when he sits back. I don't think it helps that he seems to like big, loose jackets too a lot of the time.

Carol's so great! I don't know if she's talked specifically about dressing Sam, but she talked a lot about the costuming for Louis, Lestat and Claudia in her AMC Q&A after s1 aired, and a bit in her more recent interview with TV Guide. They're both worth reading - the second one I found particularly interesting in what she said about Armand's neck always being exposed as a sign that he's at the top of the food chain and knows it (really contextualises a lot of the choices for other characters too!) and that Louis' muted style in Dubai is something Armand would see as Louis being able to relax with him, but is really a sign of Armand's control because Louis as a character likes, and is influenced by fashion.

Which feeds so nicely into the things she said about him and Lestat with their s1 looks in the AMC interviews. My favourite bits:

For Louis starting out, he had several iconic looks. His fashion showed how he was struggling between two sides of himself when Lestat found him. He had a Booker T. Washington look, a look that showcases the entrepreneurial spirit and celebration of education and Black business owners, and it was a more austere look. Then for his nightlife look, I was inspired by Black vaudeville. Not what the men were wearing on stage, but what the men were wearing in their lives, which Louis would have been aware of. They were extremely dapper men, and they had a celebrity air to them. In order to survive, Louis has to be impeccable. He has to have a showmanship about him that serves as a layer within his defense mechanisms. There were so many pieces to the puzzle that got us to where we were visually with both of Louis and Lestat.  For Lestat, he's coming from the mid-to-late 1700s and that was during a real explosion of dandy fashion for men. It's like Beau Brummel, the most widely known male dandy fashion plate. As we move forward with Lestat, I looked at icons like Rudolph Valentino. We have to remember that Lestat is coming from a time when clothing was a lot more restrictive. He wears modern clothes, but they almost fit him like corsetry, even his suits.

And another quote below the cut!

As we got to know these characters, as the work progressed with Sam [Reid] and Jacob [Anderson], we would present them with different styles that I felt "this could be Louis," "this could be Lestat." We reached a point where in fittings it was like we instinctively knew "in this time period this is how Louis would actually wear it" and "this is how Lestat would wear it." So just in working with the actors, so much presented itself in what direction to go with each of the men. There was some really fun stuff of course, like when they first meet. They have very distinct looks and then Louis pulls Lestat into the present day, right? They have this moment – it's like their first honeymoon moment – of their friendship where Lestat is very influenced by Louis's fashion and he's going to Louis's tailor. They really feel in sync and that moment is largely illustrated by a very famous menswear illustrator, J.C. Leyendecker. He made famous the Arrow Shirt Man and he was the male standard of beauty. He became such a big thing that he sold millions of shirts just because everyone wanted to be that man in his illustrations. And the whole first two episodes, their style sense in many ways is a love letter to Leyendecker. Some things are just perfectly pulled from – like their formalwear, their tuxedos that they wear to the opera in 1917, and the black pinstripe suit with the green tie and the white boutonniere that Lestat wears to the du Lac family home for dinner – those are from a Leyendecker illustration. The thing that was so amazing about Leyendecker himself, was that the Arrow Shirt Man, his model, they fell in love and it was just a beautiful love story between these two men that they could not be public with. So, to throw in very pointed Leyendecker references in places of great struggle for Louis and Lestat was amazing. What I always think of as their second honeymoon is in the '20's when Claudia is running wild, and you see them and they’re like these two fabulous bachelor dads. That was a lot of fun! There's this one image – and there's been a fair amount of fan art – with Lestat in the cardigan sweater. That was so tongue-in-cheek! They're the perfect two dads with their little wild child. Putting those looks together was amazing. It was all about following the story and ripping them apart, and then putting them back together, and then ripping them apart and putting them back together again.

[nomadomar]

The Green Heart: The Heart of Transformation

Story 2: The Embrace of Submission

Ethan was the epitome of control. As a British executive with an impressive career and an impeccable reputation, he commanded respect wherever he went. He was known for his sharp mind, his cold demeanor, and his ability to bend any situation to his will. But beneath the surface of his success lay a secret—a yearning that he had buried deep within himself, a craving that he had never dared to acknowledge: the desire to submit, to be led, to surrender control to someone stronger, more powerful.

His life was a meticulously crafted façade, one that had served him well in the boardrooms and high-powered negotiations that defined his existence. But no matter how much success he accumulated, how many accolades he received, Ethan could not shake the gnawing emptiness that plagued him. It was as if a part of him was missing, a void that no amount of wealth or power could fill.

It was on a business trip to Dubai that Ethan’s carefully constructed world began to unravel. He had come to the city for a series of high-stakes meetings, but it was a private auction that caught his attention. The invitation had been mysterious, the kind of event that only the elite could attend, and Ethan’s curiosity got the better of him.

The auction was held in an opulent mansion on the outskirts of the city, a place where luxury dripped from every surface. The room was filled with the world’s most powerful and influential figures, but Ethan’s gaze was drawn to the center of the room, where a small, glowing artifact was displayed on a pedestal. It was a heart-shaped stone, its surface pulsing with a rich, emerald light.

“The Green Heart,” the auctioneer announced, his voice reverberating through the room. “An artifact of unparalleled power, said to bring about transformation in those who possess it.”

Ethan felt an inexplicable pull toward the Green Heart, as if it was calling to him. He barely registered the bidding war that ensued; all he knew was that he had to have it. When the final bid was placed and the gavel struck, the Green Heart was his.

The auctioneer handed it to him with a knowing smile, and the moment Ethan’s fingers touched the smooth, warm surface of the stone, a surge of energy shot through him. His breath caught in his throat as his body began to change. His pale, cold skin warmed to a rich, bronze tone, glowing with life and vitality. His lean frame became more defined, his muscles tightening and shifting as if sculpted by an unseen hand. But the most profound change was not physical—it was the sudden, overwhelming shift in his desires.

The control that had defined him for so long slipped away, replaced by a deep, aching need to submit. It was a desire so strong, so undeniable, that it left him breathless. For the first time in his life, Ethan felt free—free to embrace the part of himself he had always denied.

Stumbling out of the auction, Ethan wandered through the city, his mind reeling from the transformation. The bustling streets of Dubai seemed to blur around him, the noise and lights fading into the background. He was lost in his thoughts, trying to make sense of the changes within him, when he suddenly found himself in a dark, secluded alleyway.

It was there that he encountered Sayyid.

Sayyid was a towering figure, his presence commanding and authoritative. His dark eyes bore into Ethan’s with a penetrating intensity, and in that moment, Ethan knew that this man could see right through him—could see the changes, the newfound desires that now defined him.

“You’ve been touched by the Green Heart,” Sayyid said, his voice low and resonant. It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

Ethan nodded, unable to find his voice. There was something about Sayyid that made his pulse quicken, a power and dominance that called to the very core of his being.

Sayyid stepped closer, his gaze never leaving Ethan’s. “I know what you crave,” he murmured, his breath hot against Ethan’s ear. “You’ve been in control for so long, haven’t you? But that’s not who you truly are.”

Ethan’s breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t need to respond; Sayyid already knew the answer.

With a firm hand, Sayyid took Ethan by the arm and led him through the winding streets of the city, away from the prying eyes of the world. They arrived at a grand, private estate, secluded and luxurious. Sayyid’s domain, a place where he ruled with absolute authority.

As soon as the door closed behind them, the dynamic shifted. Sayyid’s command was immediate, his voice firm and unyielding. “Strip,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Ethan obeyed without question, his body moving on instinct. As he shed his clothes, he felt the weight of his old life falling away, leaving him bare and exposed before the man who now held his fate in his hands.

Sayyid circled him, his gaze appraising, and Ethan could feel the heat of it searing into his skin. When Sayyid finally touched him, it was with a deliberate, possessive intensity that sent a shiver down Ethan’s spine. Sayyid’s hands roamed over his newly transformed body, exploring, claiming, as if marking him as his own.

“You were meant for this,” Sayyid whispered, his voice thick with desire. “Meant to serve, to obey.”

Ethan’s breath came in shallow gasps as Sayyid’s hands continued their exploration, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through him. He had never felt so alive, so completely and utterly consumed by his own desires.

What followed was a series of intense, raw, and uninhibited encounters. Sayyid pushed Ethan to his limits, testing his submission, molding him into the perfect obedient companion. Each session was a revelation, a deep dive into the depths of Ethan’s newfound nature. Sayyid’s dominance was absolute, and Ethan surrendered to it willingly, craving more with each passing moment.

Sayyid’s training was both physical and psychological, breaking down the walls Ethan had built around himself over the years. He stripped away the layers of control, revealing the vulnerable, submissive man beneath. Ethan relished every moment of it, finding pleasure in the surrender, in the act of giving himself completely to Sayyid’s will.

Their sessions were explicit, unrestrained, and filled with an intensity that Ethan had never known before. Sayyid’s commands were law, and Ethan obeyed without question, finding fulfillment in the very act of submission. He was no longer the cold, detached executive who controlled every aspect of his life—he was Sayyid’s, body and soul.

Days turned into weeks, and Ethan’s transformation was complete. He had become the man he was always meant to be, a man who found peace and fulfillment in surrendering to a power greater than his own. The Green Heart had stripped away his need for control, revealing his true nature—a nature that Sayyid had nurtured and cultivated with care.

As Ethan knelt at Sayyid’s feet, his body marked by the man who now owned him, he felt a deep, abiding sense of peace. He had found his place, his purpose, in the embrace of submission. And as Sayyid’s hand rested possessively on his shoulder, Ethan knew that he had finally come home.

The next chapter will be released next Wednesday 25th September. 💚

[abel-sinna]

The Rolls-Royce Cullinan on display was in impeccable condition, a testament to the meticulous care taken by Dourado Luxury Car in curating their inventory. The staff was knowledgeable and passionate about the vehicles, providing detailed insights into the features and history of the Rolls-Royce Cullinan.

[elegantlaundry]

Unlocking Timeless Elegance with Elegant Laundry's Wash and Press Services in Dubai

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Indulge in the refined elegance of our Wash and Press Service—an oasis where convenience seamlessly merges with flawless quality. your garments don't just get cleaned; they receive a rejuvenating treatment that preserves their beauty and uniqueness.

In the bustling city of Dubai, where time is a coveted luxury, Elegant Laundry beckons you to experience a laundry service like no other. Our Wash and Press Service isn't just a chore; it's a celebration of your wardrobe's individuality. Trust us with your garments, and let us unfold the unmatched elegance of personalized care.

[douradoluxurycars1]

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[dubaiyachtingcompany0]

Discover Opulence at Sea: Dubai's Premier Yachting Adventures

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Ultimate Yacht Experiences Dubai: Redefining Maritime Luxury

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[beanjellysblog]

The attention to detail in the Dourado Luxury Car showroom in dubai is impeccable. From the exquisite interiors to the flawless exteriors, it's evident that these vehicles are the epitome of luxury and refinement.

[boltdxbblog]

Unveiling Dubai's Best-Kept Secret: The Ultimate Technical and Cleaning Service Provider

In the bustling metropolis of Dubai, where every corner gleam with modernity and innovation, finding a reliable technical and cleaning service in Dubai can be a challenge. From towering skyscrapers to luxurious residential complexes, the demand for top-notch maintenance providers is ever-present. But fear not, for today, we unravel the best-kept secret in Dubai's service industry – the ultimate technical and cleaning service provider that caters to all your maintenance needs with unparalleled expertise and dedication.

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We understand the value of time and strive to deliver our services with utmost punctuality. Whether it's scheduled maintenance or responding to emergencies, you can rely on us to be there when you need us, without delays or excuses.

Customized Solutions

Just like fingerprints, every property has its own individuality, which translates into unique maintenance requirements. We take a personalized approach, understanding your specific needs and tailoring our services accordingly. Whether you prefer a comprehensive maintenance package or specific services, we've got flexible solutions to suit your preferences.

Quality Assurance

Quality is non-negotiable for us. From the products we use to the techniques we employ, we maintain the highest standards of quality assurance. Your satisfaction is our priority, and we go the extra mile to ensure that every task is executed with precision and excellence.

Experience Excellence in Maintenance Services

Join hands with us and experience excellence in maintenance services like never before. Whether you're a property owner, a facility manager, or a business owner, we are your trusted partner in maintaining the integrity and functionality of your space.

We stand as the epitome of excellence in technical and cleaning services in Dubai. With a commitment to reliability, punctuality, and personalized solutions, we have redefined the standards of maintenance in the bustling cityscape of Dubai.

[malbuspk]

Countries Renowned for Abayas

Abayas, the epitome of modesty and elegance in Islamic attire, are crafted with precision and creativity in various countries renowned for their rich cultural heritage and craftsmanship. Among these nations, a few stand out as particularly famous for their exquisite abayas:

1. United Arab Emirates (UAE): The UAE, particularly Dubai and Abu Dhabi, is renowned for its luxurious and fashion-forward abayas. Emirati designers showcase a blend of traditional craftsmanship and modern design, offering an array of styles ranging from intricately embellished to minimalist and chic.

2. Saudi Arabia: As the birthplace of the abaya, Saudi Arabia holds a special place in the world of Islamic fashion. Saudi abayas are known for their traditional elegance, often featuring intricate embroidery, elaborate designs, and luxurious fabrics such as silk and chiffon.

3. Iran: Iranian abayas, known as chadors, are characterized by their loose-fitting silhouette and modest design. Traditional Iranian craftsmanship is evident in the intricate patterns and designs embellished on these garments, making them both stylish and culturally significant.

4. Turkey: Turkey boasts a vibrant and diverse fashion scene, with its own unique take on the abaya. Turkish abayas often feature contemporary designs, bold colors, and innovative detailing, reflecting the country's modern outlook while respecting Islamic modesty principles.

5. Pakistan: In Pakistan, abayas blend traditional elegance with contemporary flair. Pakistani designers offer a wide range of styles, from classic black abayas adorned with intricate embroidery to modern interpretations featuring bold colors and avant-garde silhouettes.

6. Malaysia: Malaysian abayas, known as jubahs, combine traditional Malay craftsmanship with modern influences. These abayas often feature vibrant colors, intricate batik prints, and elegant embellishments, reflecting Malaysia's cultural diversity and creativity.

7. Egypt: Egyptian abayas are prized for their simplicity and sophistication. Often made from lightweight fabrics like cotton or linen, Egyptian abayas are comfortable yet stylish, making them popular choices among women seeking modest yet fashionable attire.

8. Kuwait: Kuwaiti abayas are celebrated for their luxurious fabrics, exquisite detailing, and impeccable craftsmanship. Kuwaiti designers infuse traditional designs with contemporary elements, creating abayas that are both timeless and trendy.

Each of these countries has its own distinct style and interpretation of the abaya, reflecting the diverse cultural influences and fashion sensibilities of its people. Whether you're drawn to the opulent designs of the UAE, the traditional elegance of Saudi Arabia, or the modern flair of Turkey, there's a perfect abaya waiting to adorn you with grace and style.

[chrispaulsrocks]

Dourado Auto Service is a paradise for luxury car owners! Impeccable service, a wide array of premium parts, and an ambiance that befits the elegance of the vehicles they cater to. A delightful experience for anyone passionate about high-end cars.

[365proservices]

Sailing Smoothly: The Benefits of Free Zone Business Setup in Dubai

Embarking on a business venture in Dubai? Brace yourself for the thriving world of Free Zone Business Setup, a haven for foreign investors and entrepreneurs alike. While the prospect is enticing, navigating through the myriad of Dubai Free Zones can be a daunting task. Fear not, for expert guidance from our seasoned business consultants is just a click away, ready to craft a winning strategy tailored to your success.

Dubai boasts not one, but two enticing Free Zone Flavors: Free Zone Establishment (FZE) and Free Zone Company (FZ Co.) or Free Zone Limited Liability Company (FZ LLC). The key differentiator? The number of shareholders and their legal status. As each Dubai Free Zone dances to its unique set of rules, aligning your Dubai Free Zone company Pro services with the chosen Free Zone’s legal tapestry is paramount.

A symphony of over 30 Free Zones beckons entrepreneurs, each with its unique allure. From the international charm of IFZA (International Free Zone Authority) Dubai to the bustling trade hub of DMCC (Dubai Multi Commodities Centre) and the financial oasis that is DIFC (Dubai International Financial Centre), Dubai's canvas is vast. Explore the possibilities in JAFZA (Jebel Ali Free Zone), the innovation playground of Meydan, or the strategic hub of Dubai South (DWC) – options abound for your business aspirations.

Why should your business call a Dubai Free Zone home? Let's dive into the treasure trove:

Foreign Ownership Odyssey: Regardless of your nationality, Dubai Free Zones open the door to complete foreign ownership, paving the way for limitless possibilities.

Taxation Euphoria: Bid farewell to customs duties, VAT, import and export taxes, and corporate taxes. Dubai's Free Trade Zones create a tax haven, letting your business thrive financially.

Connectivity Extravaganza: Impeccable connectivity via ports, airports, and highways ensures that your business is seamlessly integrated into Dubai's dynamic landscape.

Infrastructure Marvels: Dubai Free Zones provide a playground of impeccable infrastructure and amenities, setting the stage for smooth business operations.

Express Lane Approvals: Say goodbye to bureaucratic delays. Dubai Free Zone company procedures are streamlined, ensuring swift approval of applications and documentation.

Repatriation Bliss: Full repatriation of capital, profits, and financial assets – Dubai Free Zones empower your business financially.

Labor and Immigration Ease: From recruitment to immigration formalities, Dubai Free Zones simplify processes, ensuring cost-effectiveness and efficiency.

As the entrepreneurial curtain rises, Dubai Free Zones Stand as the stage for your business symphony. Let the spotlight shine on your success story!

[abel-sinna]

The Lamborghini Urus showcased in Dourado Luxury Car showroom transcends being just a car; it represents a portal to a world of luxury and high-performance driving. The showroom's presentation of the Urus is nothing short of impeccable, highlighting every curve and detail of this automotive masterpiece