#golf shirts untuck

[gaytkachuk]

i just know leon would be soooo annoyed (fond) with matthew and his loose, untucked golf shirt and he would keep chirping matthew about it and his stupid hat n then they would secretly make out in the golf cart at the 16th hole

[lain0423]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Pale Yellow Golf Shirt.

[christasclothes]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: RSVLTS Breakfast Balls Tee-KinTime Polo.

[lids98]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Tommy Bahama Golf Short Sleeve Silk Shirt.

[escapingtogethernow]

How to Choose the Perfect Women's Golf Clothes

Golf is more than just a sport; it's a lifestyle that combines athleticism with a sense of refined elegance. When it comes to women's golf apparel, the golf shirt holds a special place, serving as a crucial element that blends functionality, comfort, and style.

Choosing the right women's golf clothes is not just about looking good on the course; it's about enhancing your performance, staying comfortable, and expressing your individuality. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore the factors to consider when selecting the perfect women's golf clothes and how they can contribute to a stylish and successful day on the fairway.

Understanding the Importance of a Golf Shirt

The golf shirt, often referred to as a polo shirt, is a staple in golf fashion. Originally designed for its breathable fabric and collared design, the golf shirt has evolved into a versatile piece of clothing that bridges the gap between athletic wear and casual elegance.

Beyond its aesthetic appeal, well-chosen women's golf clothes can enhance your performance by providing comfort, moisture-wicking properties, and freedom of movement, making it an essential component of your golf wardrobe.

Fabric Matters

The first and foremost consideration when choosing a women's golf clothes is the fabric. Golf is a physically demanding sport, and the right fabric can make a significant difference in your comfort and performance. Look for shirts made from moisture-wicking materials, such as polyester or a blend of synthetic fibers. These fabrics efficiently draw moisture away from your skin, keeping you dry and comfortable even during intense rounds.

Additionally, consider the breathability of the fabric. Golf is often played in warm weather, and a shirt with good ventilation can prevent overheating. Performance fabrics with added features like mesh panels or strategically placed ventilation zones can enhance airflow, ensuring you stay cool on the course.

Fit and Comfort

The fit of your golf shirt is crucial for both comfort and aesthetics. Choose a shirt that allows for a full range of motion during your swing. Look for designs that incorporate stretchable materials or feature a cut that accommodates the natural movements of a golf swing. A shirt that feels restrictive can hinder your performance and detract from the overall golfing experience.

The length of the sleeves is also a consideration. While traditional short sleeves are popular, some women prefer longer sleeves for added sun protection or a touch of style. Choose a sleeve length that suits your personal preference and the climate in which you'll be playing.

Furthermore, pay attention to the shirt's length. Opt for a length that allows you to comfortably tuck it into your golf pants or skort, ensuring a polished and put-together look. On the other hand, if you prefer an untucked style, choose a shirt with a hemline that falls at a flattering length.

Style and Design

Golf shirts come in a variety of styles and designs, allowing you to express your taste while adhering to the norms of golf fashion. Traditional polo shirts with a collared design remain a classic choice, exuding a timeless and sophisticated look. However, modern trends have introduced a wide range of options, including v-neck styles, sleeveless designs, and even golf shirts with fashion-forward patterns and prints.

Consider the dress code of the golf course you frequent, as some may have specific requirements regarding collar styles or sleeve lengths. Additionally, think about your style preferences – whether you lean towards a classic and understated look or prefer to make a bold statement with vibrant colors and patterns.

UV Protection

Sun protection is a crucial consideration given the extended periods spent outdoors on the golf course. Many women's golf clothes are designed with built-in UV protection to shield your skin from harmful sun rays. 

Look for shirts with a UPF (Ultraviolet Protection Factor) rating, which indicates the level of protection the fabric provides against UV radiation. This feature not only safeguards your skin but also adds a practical element to your golf shirt, making it a wise choice for sunny days on the course.

Brand and Reputation:

Choosing a reputable brand can be a key factor in ensuring the quality and performance of your women's golf clothes. Established golf apparel brands often invest in research and development to create shirts that meet the specific needs of golfers. They understand the importance of combining style with functionality, making them a reliable choice for your golf wardrobe.

Read reviews and testimonials from other female golfers to gain insights into the performance and durability of specific brands and shirt models. Pay attention to details such as stitching quality, durability of the fabric, and overall customer satisfaction. Investing in a well-known brand can contribute to the longevity of your golf shirt and ensure a positive experience on the course.

Temperature Adaptability

Golf is played in various climates, and your choice of a golf shirt should be adaptable to different temperature ranges. For cooler weather, consider shirts with thermal properties or those that can be easily layered with a sweater or jacket. On the other hand, for hot and humid conditions, opt for lightweight and breathable fabrics that provide effective moisture-wicking.

Some women's golf apparel comes with innovative temperature-regulating technologies that respond to changes in your body temperature, ensuring optimal comfort regardless of the weather. Explore these options to find a shirt that can keep you cool when it's hot and warm when it's cold, providing year-round versatility.

Versatility Beyond the Course

While your primary consideration is likely golf performance, it's worth thinking about the versatility of your women's golf apparel beyond the course. Some golf shirts are designed with a sophisticated and stylish aesthetic that seamlessly transitions from the fairway to casual settings. Consider whether the shirt can be paired with other pieces in your wardrobe for a polished and put-together look during off-course activities.

Layering options can also enhance the versatility of your golf shirt. Look for shirts that can be easily paired with vests, sweaters, or outerwear, allowing you to adapt your outfit to changing weather conditions or different social settings.

Budget Considerations

Like any other wardrobe investment, your budget plays a role in the selection process. Fortunately, the market offers a wide range of women's golf clothes at various price points, catering to different budgets. 

While premium brands often come with a higher price tag, they may offer advanced features, superior quality, and stylish designs. However, many affordable options also provide excellent performance and style, making golf accessible to a broader audience.

Consider your priorities and balance them with your budget constraints. It's essential to find a women's golf apparel that meets your specific needs without compromising on quality. Keep an eye out for sales, promotions, or clearance events, as these opportunities can allow you to invest in high-quality shirts at more budget-friendly prices.

Conclusion

Choosing the perfect women's golf clothes involves a thoughtful consideration of various factors, ranging from fabric and fit to style and UV protection. The ideal shirt should not only enhance your performance on the course but also align with your personal style preferences and provide versatility beyond the fairway. 

By understanding the importance of each aspect and carefully evaluating your options, you can make informed choices that contribute to a stylish, comfortable, and successful golfing experience.

As you explore the diverse offerings in the world of women's golf clothes, remember that the right choice goes beyond trends and fashion. It's about finding a shirt that empowers you to confidently swing, express your individuality, and enjoy the game of golf to the fullest. So, the next time you step onto the fairway, make sure you're

[houseofgerrard]

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[alfiebythec]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Men's FootJoy Polo shirt.

[jimmydemaret]

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[jeanbeaux]

ANATOMY PRACTICE

eren jaeger x f!reader

w/c: 1.3k

warnings: smut/18+/minors DNI, fingering, cadaver mentions, tutor/student relationship, archaic professionalism standards

a/n: shout out to my lovely @jae-ren who gave me this beautiful idea i said i would “drabble” but then wrote a thousand words about because i have no self control. also shout out to bestie @smoochiesdiarie for beta-ing. yes the hand thing is a real trick for learning your hand muscles, im never gonna forget it now.

You shouldn’t be here.

Your hand hovered in a fist centimeters away from the dark green door in front of you, almost as though your body was preventing you from making a mistake.

The offer for extra help for anatomy was too good to be true, you knew it was, and when he said that he wanted to be able to help you outside of the cadaver lab, his apartment was not the location you had anticipated for your next study session.

When your mind was finally able to tell your limbs to turn around, the door swung open — the blinding smile of your tutor greeting you and effectively sealing your fate.

Eren Jaeger got away with a lot during his time at medical school.

Strolling into class a couple of minutes late despite the strict rule against tardiness, shirt untucked and the hair in his low bun mussed — looking more like a fashion model rather than the ideal physician Paradis Medical University wanted to produce.

It wasn’t for the lack of trying reprimands for him on the professor’s part — the problem was simply his last name — as the son of the dean, he was untouchable.

And even more infuriatingly, he was a god damn genius.

So what if he scorned the outdated values of professionalism? His scores spoke for themselves — and if a missed button was that they really wanted to hold over him from helping heal the sick then school was going it’s own mission of doing no harm.

He was good at teaching too, and in his second year he would moonlight as a lab assistant in the cadaver lab — on his study breaks, no doubt, milling about the lab to point out missed muscles and their functions to the stressed out first years.

Then came the fateful day where he went nosing into your body bay to tell you you’re holding your scalpel wrong. Instead of telling you how to fix it, he came up from behind and hold it with you, the position not unlike how you would help someone correct their golf swing.

“Hold it like a pencil,” he said, finger pressing on top of yours to help cut through the layers of fascia. “It helps with the more precise cuts.”

He left wordlessly soon after, Professor Hange calling him for help on making a sagittal pelvic cut, leaving you and your dissection group equally dumbfounded by the intimacy of his help.

Since then, they always joked that if you couldn’t get the M.D by the end of this, at least the M.R.S degree was lined up for you.

Eren was always hovering by your cadaver since then, quizzing you about the innervation each muscle you uncovered and rewarding a half smile and “good girl” with each question you answered right.

He’d even find you after hours when you were studying with the models.

“These are bullshit, you know,” he said, toying with the bony hand of the skeleton you were working with. “Nothing beats working with the real thing.”

“Don’t really feel like getting suffocated by the smell of formaldehyde more than I have to.”

He let out a short laugh, pulling the surgical skin marker that’s always sticking out of his back pocket. “That’s not what I meant, here,” he handed the pen to you, stretching out his hand. “Write your number on here, and I’ll show you what I’m talking about, okay?”

Thirty minutes passed and you got a text with an address, and a week later, you’re being ushered through the door of his apartment.

“Glad you could make it,” he greets warmly.

“What are you hiding, Jaeger,” you say, looking around to admire how he’s decorated the space. “Hope you didn’t trick some poor soul to be an anatomy model today.”

“I didn’t have to trick anyone, I’m your model today.”

You turn away from the colored vinyls that hang on the walls to look back at him, finding him in the middle of pulling his worn grey tee over his head, abs under tan skin rippling with the motion. He just responds to the look of shock on your face with that trademark cheeky grin, arms spread out in a “you like what you see?” type gesture.

“This,” he shakes the surgical marker in front of you, “Is yours now. Mark me up. Tell me where the muscles and organs lie. Starting here.” Eren picks up your hand and puts it on his chest, resting it under his so you can feel his heart thrum.

You look back up to those sea green eyes and realize he isn’t just messing around, and with a deep exhale, you take the marker from his hand and uncap it, pressing the tip against the bony process your hand was lying on and draw a line vertically.

“Sternum,�� you call out, “It’s the midline of the ribcage.” You move to the left, tracing the outline of his pec. “Pectoralis Major, innervated by the medial and lateral pectoral nerves, helps in adduction of the arm.”

“Smart girl.”

The game goes on like this, Eren’s sculpted physique now littered in black lines that ran through every groove of muscle. It’s intimate, the act making you more mallable to his easy charm —  so he manages to convince you to lend a hand to help him, the female pelvis being larger than a males and what not and he needs to brush up on the landmarks too. It took a few more sweet words and you’ve shed your jeans for him, laying down on the couch as he runs the marker along the divot of your hips, naming the muscle attachments that would run on those bony spines along the way.

“Did you know the hand flexors are amongst the hardest group to learn?” Eren says, sitting in the space between your legs as he draws four lines across his forearm.

“You’re telling me,” you say, “They always trip me up.”

“Here,” Eren holds his forearm in front of you, laying his other hand so his four fingers lay across the lines. “It’s Pass — Fail — Pass — Fail, Pronator Teres, Flexor Carpi Radialus, Palmaris Longus, Flexor Carpi Ulnarus.” He lifts each finger up as he names each muscle, the action cementing the mnemonic in your brain even further.

“Do you get it?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me.”

You repeat the action with your own arm, resting your right hand across the your left forearm and naming the muscles in sequence.

“You’re really getting the hang of this, clever girl.”

The heat blooms across your cheeks at his praise, and you shift your knees up so you could try to hide the dampening spot growing on your panties with the attention.

“I guess I just have a great tutor.”

“Damn right you do. Heres another fun fact for you, did you know you can actually feel those four tendons pretty easily when you flex your hand? Let me show you.”

Eren picks your hand up so you can wrap it around his right wrist, his hand going to lie flat on your belly with the finger tips pointed toward the edge of your underwear.

Then he moves down, pushing his digits underneath the fabric as he watches in delight at how your eyes widen when he starts running them through your slick folds. He slides a finger in your hole with ease, working himself into you gradually with your hand still on his wrist.

When he manages to put be able to put two in he curls his fingers, and sure enough, you feel his tendons tense beneath your grip, a small gasp tumbling out of your lips as he continues to press against that gummy spot.

“See that, clever girl? The flexors may be a bitch to learn, but damn, they sure will make you feel good, yeah?”

thx for reading! plz don’t recc this on tiktok.

© all rights reserved JEANBEAUX 2021. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

taglist: @onwiings @wyack @aiiwa @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein @jeansbabycake @glittrkink @intothesunset @lazyezstudy @hawksismybabydaddy

join my taglist here!

[afro-elf]

Pls tell me there's as elaborate a typology for the white men names

chets golf. jakes are cops. chrises join predominantly black sports to make friends and then use the group pictures on dating apps. frankies are married to brandies but they drive uglier cars than vinnies who are older than frankies and married to carols. timmies flinch when black people laugh loud. gregs never learned to untuck their shirts from their pants, they're your white friend's dad and they slip old slang they've never used before into their vocabulary the moment you walk into the house. ronalds are older and think you are an ebony goddess and they'll say so within earshot of their wives who are usually gertrudes. kyles are either progressive until they listen to rap music or being actively courted by the alt-right. jasons meditate and they don't see color but they do see your hair and want to touch it. ryans are like kyles except they also act in defense of their girlfriends, usually jessicas

[thetriggeredhappy]

recently rediscovered your blog and read the fic from your dad spy au where scout starts out as the "guard" and then becomes scout from there and lemme tell you that shit put me on some s-tier brainrot. like a cranial decay type beat.

i had a concept in my head that instead of being hired as a guard, he could have been hired as a right hand man to the administrator like pauling, because i think hed be awesome in that position. like imagine having a personal merc who can get in fast and out even faster. but maybe he would stay in the base like the rest of them, sort of like a secret on call intel gatherer, who also maybe sometimes has to dig a couple graves. and also like, nobody on the team expects anything from him at first because its this 20 year old newbie kid. hes dressed in his formal clothes and he talks like somebody from relatively around boston but not quite. i can just imagine one day he comes back during a team dinner with his shirt half untucked and stained with blood, hair disheveled as he asks soldier if he can borrow his shovel, or him debriefing them for a mission when miss pauling is busy. same vibe as the fic i mentioned before but scout gets to have a job as cool as miss paulings. honestly id write it myself if i didnt have the attention span of a fly

anyways your scout content gives me life thank you

scout teamfortress but 20% more competent standing next to miss pauling teamfortress while she's doing her job and doing like silly quips and otherwise contributing nothing like it's a buddy cop film is literally my fucking ideal

(warnings for some canon-typical violence)

-

“Oh, Pauling, it’s good to see you again,” greeted the chairman, smiling in an imitation of a grandfather and clasping her hands perhaps too-kindly considering she barely knew him. “Young as ever, and still so stylish, I see. And who’s the new fellow?”

“He’s just here to help with transport, Mr. Montgomery, nothing unusual,” Miss Pauling replied, returning his smile and adjusting her glasses. “Heavy cases, you know how it is.”

“Of course, I remember you almost toppling clean over last time we made a trade!” Montgomery agreed, frowning at the memory. “You’ll pull a muscle that way, better to be careful. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man. And your name?”

“Mr. Normandy, sir,” the new kid replied easily enough despite his slight East Coast accent, giving the man a firm handshake, expression neutral and stony, the picture of professionalism. Internally, Pauling breathed a sigh of relief.

“Firm grip there, young man,” Montgomery praised, nodding approvingly. “Tennis player, perhaps? Or golf?”

“Baseball, sir,” he replied, still evenly. “First baseman.”

“Ah! Of course! Were you any good?” Montgomery joked.

“At everything but playing in front of the crowds, otherwise I’d be in the major leagues,” he replied, tilting his head just slightly to imply that he was joking, his sunglasses glinting at the movement, and Montgomery barked a laugh.

“I like this one, Miss Pauling!” Montgomery said, and Pauling just barely caught herself from physically relaxing at it.

“We do too, Mr. Montgomery,” she agreed. “I was under the impression that you’re very busy today, so we won’t keep you for too long, we just wanted to sort out the final details surrounding the manufacturing rights for the—“

“—Pacific Northwest branch, up into British Columbia and Alberta, of course,” Montgomery agreed, nodding faintly. “Of course, of course.” He turned to regard his own man in a dark suit, the one standing to the right, who appeared to be unsuccessfully trying to stare down Normandy, who was completely ignoring him. “My briefcase, please.”

The man handed over the briefcase, and Montgomery put it on his desk, opening it and pulling out a sheaf of papers. “All our requests are submitted and approved, at this point we just had a few dustbins to take care of regarding initial percentages and making sure everything is wired to the correct accounts, which names are undisclosed, things like that,” Pauling explained as he glanced through the papers.

“Right, right, everything looks good here,” the man murmured, nodding to himself, sending his long-white hair just ever-so-slightly out of place. “I’m assuming these more sensitive documents should be sent some way besides through the mail?”

“If you finish them today I can take them with me, otherwise either me or Mr. Normandy can return to pick them up at your convenience,” she replied, to which Normandy gave a singular nod.

“Oh, it would only take me a short while,” Montgomery said, waving a hand. “We have a lovely lounge just down the hall from here if you’d prefer to wait there, it should only take me ten, fifteen minutes at most. In the meantime, I do believe there’s also the manner of payment for services rendered.”

Miss Pauling tilted her head just slightly to one side, confused.

“I arranged with Helen already,” Montgomery explained, not looking up from where he was initialing a few things. “The payment, rather than being wired, she asked to be made in material investment. A venture of mine from years ago that she’s willing to sit on. Rather than gold or bonds, she agreed to take some old currency of mine that my family collected, from early 18th century New Zealand and Australia. Monetarily it’s worth around the same, and I’m quite a bit attached to it to be entirely frank, but it was at her request to buy the whole collection from me, and after years of the work we’ve been doing together, well, I’d never trust it with anyone else.”

He gestured to the other man, the one on his left, who stepped forward to hand him a manila envelope, which he passed to Pauling.

“Inside is both keys, the door alarm codes, and all other security information for the building where the collection is being stored. They’ll ask for a few codes and confirmation of identity, only because several other art collections and artifacts are being stored there by other affluent individuals such as myself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling said, taking the envelope gratefully.

“Think nothing of it, my dear. Helen talked me into it all her own,” he said easily enough. “Now, gentlemen, if you would let Miss Pauling and Mr. Normandy into our lounge? I should have these wrapped up before any of us can even think about lunch, eh?”

One of the suits showed the two of them through the doors and down the hallway, through two doors bracketed by similar suits who simply nodded politely at Pauling and ticked their chins at Normandy as they passed them.

Normandy posted up beside the door for all of three seconds before they shut and Pauling pulled her glasses up, rubbing at the bridge of her nose and making a vaguely distressed noise. He then promptly relaxed, instead leaning his hip against an armchair probably worth the same amount as a small car. “So, uh, we’re glad that he’s giving us a bunch of commemorative coins from when dinosaurs still walked the earth?” he asked just below normal speaking volume, eyebrows raised.

“Yes. Very glad. Because unlike about six people total on the planet, he hasn’t figured out yet how valuable those are.”

“What, is a picture of a kangaroo on some copper really gonna make up for a couple hundred thousand American dollars?” Normandy asked, sounding doubtful.

“Not copper. Something else,” she replied. “I can’t tell you much more about it other than that, but these coins are made of something priceless to us. And to the Administrator.”

“…Love? Memories? The magic of family?” he joked, cracking a smile, and she rolled her eyes, moving to open the envelope and start reading the papers inside. “Hey, uh, not to question whether my job should exist, but what the hell am I doing here, exactly? Besides carrying a briefcase. Like, chivalry isn’t dead but I really don’t think you need me carrying your bags and holding the door for you.”

“You’re helping with security, basically,” she replied, adjusting her glasses to squint at tiny handwriting about the collection. “Mr. Montgomery is trustworthy, but he mostly hires out to… well, people like us. His security detail is mostly people we’d rather have screened, freelancers, stuff like that. A lot of people we contract out to are like that. Most of them have heard about me and know better than to try and pull something, since I can hold my own pretty well, but if they haven’t, seeing a second person might persuade them to think it over again.”

“Oh, so I’m like, uh, when it says ‘tow zone’ next to the no parking signs even though nobody checks, or when they’ve got a camera in the corner of the store that isn’t even plugged into anything,” he said, and the looked up at him, confused. “Like, uh, what’s the word… I’m a casual deterrent.”

“Sure,” she said, because it sounded like he knew what he was talking about, shuffling the papers back away and closing the envelope again, making a note to ask the Administrator if she should change their current containment procedures to be closer to Mr. Montgomery’s. “Just… if there’s a fight, you deal with it, otherwise you just stand there and look like you’re paying attention.”

“That’s what the sunglasses are for,” he agreed. “I was blinking morse code at the guy across from me literally the whole time.”

“You know morse code?” Pauling asked, surprised.

“Just the alphabet, ‘S.O.S.’, and ‘ass’.”

She rolled her eyes again, and that’s when the door opened.

She expected Mr. Montgomery, not one of the men in suits. “Excuse me, both of you, if you don’t mind,”the man said, accent having the slightest English tilt to it, a Londoner if Pauling had to guess. “You’re Miss Pauling, the Mann Co. affiliate, yes?”

“That’s me,” she agreed, hesitant, and glanced at Normandy.

“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. Mr. Montgomery have you the wrong envelope on accident,” the man said apologetically, extending a hand forward. “We apologize for this unfortunate mix-up, it’s really quite embarrassing, but those documents are sensitive and we’ll be needing to see them back now.”

Pauling looked at him, and within a moment, shifted her expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she agreed, nodding. “No, right, of course. These aren’t the papers for the currency collection?”

“I’m afraid not,” the Brit agreed, head tilting just slightly, hand still extended, moving a fraction further forward.

“Well, thank goodness we figured out now and not with us halfway back,” she joked, and moved to hold the folder closer to her body. “I’ll take this right back to Mr. Montgomery, then.”

“He’s sent me to correct the error,” the man explained simply.

“Right,” she said, and saw in her periphery that Normandy had already started sneaking a hand in towards his primary, clearly having pieced together something she was only suspecting. “We can bring this to his office, then, right down the hall.”

“You misunderstand,” the man said, taking a step forward again. “I’ll be taking it to his office myself.”

“That’s funny,” Pauling said. “I didn’t realize you had clearance to be in there. Or to be carrying a semi-automatic instead of a standard handgun.”

The Brit reached for the semi-automatic, and before he could even get it out properly, Normandy hit one clean shot to the side of his head and another to his thigh, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Pauling had only as far as pulling her own handgun free, thumb on the safety, and breathed a sigh of relief, glancing over at Normandy, shifting to more comfortably hold her gun. “Quick reflexes,” she noted.

“Just noticed a lot sooner, maybe,” he shrugged, stepping forward to glance over the body, tucking his gun back away.

“What was your hint?”

“He’s here to give us the right folder, yeah? Well, why were his hands empty, then?”

She was just starting to nod and realize that as well when a second man shouldered through the door, holding a gun at the ready. Normandy scrambled to draw his own, but Pauling fired a shot into his knee, shoulder, and neck to send him dropping before he was even close. “There’s quick on the draw, and then there’s prepared,” she said pointedly. “Gotta think of if there’s more than one, new guy.”

He nodded, and drew his gun again, bending to hit the guy on the ground at the temple hard enough to knock him out if he wasn’t unconscious already. He then glanced up at the sound of a shout from the other side of the door, two men shouldering through, guns drawn but lowered. It was only the firm eye contact they made with both her and Normandy that made her pause the millisecond it took to realize these ones weren’t trying to kill them.

“Pauling, what on earth is going on here?!” Montgomery demanded, entering the room and staring with wide eyes at the bodies on the ground. “What could’ve possessed you to—“

“He was trying to run off with these documents,” she explained quickly, gesturing with the envelope. “He knew whatever was in here was valuable.”

“He drew his gun, sir,” Normandy added, tipping his head down towards the body, and Pauling glanced down as well and found herself a little surprised. He’d rearranged the man just slightly, apparently, adjusting the arm to be holding the gun a bit further outward. “Other one was aiming to kill.”

“My, my,” Montgomery tsk’d, shaking his head as he surveyed the scene. “What a mess. My apologies, Miss Pauling, Mr. Normandy.”

“It’s alright, but you need to start doing more thorough checks on your staff, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling stressed.

“He’s only been here two weeks, sir, he was one of the men we hired in a hurry after the incident last month,” one of the bodyguards said, and Montgomery shook his head.

“Thank goodness nobody was hurt,” he sighed. “Mutiny, and besides that, they’re bleeding on my carpet. Here are those papers, Miss Pauling—what a day, eh?”

“It’s really alright, we handled it,” Pauling assured him, giving her bravest smile, a little exasperated now.

“Right, right, you and the first baseman,” he agreed, and Normandy fought back an actual smile.

“If you’d like, we can take care of those for you,” Pauling said, gesturing at the bodies. “To pay you back for the carpet and the scare.”

“Sounds fair to me,” Montgomery agreed, clearly relieved.

-

“My dad’s gonna be pissed, by the way,” Normandy was so helpful as to say on the way back up the path to the base. “And you’re fielding that.”

“About the suit, or the fight?” she asked, glancing at his clothes where he was somewhat covered in a fine dusting of mud and grime from the gravedigging, shovel still in his free hand.

“Both. Mostly the fight. Your fault for saying it’d be an easy one to start with,” he said.

“If it was going to be that much of a problem, you wouldn’t have gotten this job. I’d just have made you go do dishes all day or something,” Pauling replied.

“Point taken,” he said, walking ahead to get the door, holding it open for her. “Wait, we’re allowed to mention what we do, right? Just not names?”

“Or locations, even with travel distance. Round up to the hour if it comes up,” she replied.

“Sure, sure,” he agreed, trailing a step behind her as she led the way through the base.

In the common area, there was a bit of a ruckus happening. Soldier, Heavy, and Demo appeared to be having some kind of arm wrestling competition on a rapidly-toppling table, the Engineer was on a stepstool trying to fix the ceiling fan, and Sniper appeared to be half-watching the beginnings of an argument between Pyro and the Spy regarding use of the oven as Medic patched up a burn on his arm.

“Hullo,” Sniper greeted the two of them, sounding a little bored, Medic giving them a brief, polite nod. Normandy’s eyebrows were raised pretty far as he surveyed the room.

“Hi, Sniper,” she greeted in return, then cleared her throat, raised her voice. “Team meeting in five minutes! New mission for next week!”

Groans from the room at large, the eight mercenaries starting to finish up what they were doing and filing out. Spy moved over, glancing over Normandy and starting to talk to him in rapid-fire French, picking smaller bits of gravel off of his suit as they walked.

“Alright,” she addressed the room, Normandy peeling off from getting mother hen’d by Spy to stand next to the blackboard with her. “Monday, you’re all going on a transport mission. Getting the truck from point A to point B with everything in the boxes intact. Already we’ve had to put up with some people trying to get ahold of these things, so bring your guns.”

“Oh, our guns, you said? Lads, this is a serious one, keep your heads on a feckin' swivel, she’s sayin’ we might even need guns, can you believe it?” Demo faux-gasped, and chuckled when Spy bopped him on the arm, rolling his eyes at the Scot's theatrics.

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved off, flipping through the papers a bit. “So Engie, I’ll need the keys to the truck, me and Normandy are going to be loading those tomorrow, all of you need to be at this drop point bright and early.”

“How early?” Heavy rumbled.

“Six. Hour and a half of drive from here.”

Some complaints from the room that she sighed at.

“Hey, hey, calm the hell down,” Normandy cut in, and she glanced over at him where he had his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. “You chuckleheads get to have all eight of you to unload the damn thing, me and Miss P gotta do all the rest of this on our own and probably kill twenty guys on the way there and back. She had to be up at 6 AM, workin’ since 7 AM, lunch break at noon and nothin’ else, and we just got back now at, what, fuckin’, 10, 11 PM? Any of you work her shift and then see if you even got the energy to complain about wakin’ up early, how about that?”

The room went utterly devoid of complaint or backsass. “Thank you, Normandy,” she said politely, and he just nodded once, glancing off to the side. “Anyways, anything new on this end? Spy, how are you adjusting?”

“Very well,” he said simply. “I have nothing pressing to say. Once I’ve been updated from the stock weaponry provided here to my requested preferred weaponry, I believe I should do just fine.”

“I see you already have Herr Normandy digging graves,” Medic chimed in. “Straight into the hard labor, ja?”

“Eh, hey, y’know, it’s why they keep us young people around,” he shrugged, grinning, and there was a brief uproar to drown out Medic’s entirely offended scoffing and Spy’s snort-laughing.

“Get ‘im, lad!” Demo cheered, and Normandy indeed looked fairly proud of himself.

“Monday, transport mission,” Pauling noted over the noise, writing it up on the chalkboard to hide her own smile from the room. “Normandy, you and me are doing the boxes tomorrow. Everyone on the same page? Good. Dismissed. Oh, and Pyro—stop taking the fire alarms down when they beep. They’re beeping because you light things on fire in the base. Do that outside.”

“Oh, hey, uh, helmet guy, All-American Beef,” Normandy called, and Soldier straightened up. “Here’s your shovel back. Gettin’ my own tomorrow.”


Soldier walked directly over to him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a high honor, Cadet,” he said, tone grave. “Do not take this responsibility lightly.”

“I, uh, I won’t?” he said hesitantly, and blinked a few times as the shovel was carefully taken from him before it was promptly marched from the room in double-time. Only then did Normandy look over at her. “So he’s always like that?”

“You’ll get used to it,” she assured, dusting chalk from her hands. “You should get to sleep soon, we have to be up early.”

“Sure thing, Miss P.”

[christasclothes]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: RSVLTS Breakfast Balls Tee-KinTime Polo.

[lids98]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Tommy Bahama Golf Short Sleeve Silk Shirt.

[astrovian]

ranking daniel miller outfits because apparently I have nothing better to do right now

an extremely long one y’all, so it’s under the cut

started at the bottom, now we’re.... still here at the bottom of the list

the running outfit. y’know. that one

look, I know it’s the middle of winter in Berlin and Daniel’s doing his best, but there is something about this that is just not that great. still looks 100x better than my running outfit but I think it’s the beanie that really gives this last place. or is it the double beanie? either way, not an outfit I would wear to try and romance my girl in (even if you are exercising with them). the only real redeeming feature of the outfit is the black turtleneck all zipped up

1.8/10

the sneaky sneaky boy outfit

the perfect outfit for the job because it’s completely unremarkable. the ‘hood over cap’ combo makes me expect to see a 20 year old hacker skulking about under there, but wait - surprise... it’s a handsome middle-aged man? 

RA can rock a cap or hood but the double-combo just doesn’t do it for me. I guess I can be happy the third hood isn’t up as well to form a trifecta?

Daniel may need to be sneaky to do his job but I would argue that if I saw a man with a hood over his cap in broad daylight chilling in a cemetery I would have more questions than if I just saw a regularly dressed man chilling in a cemetery in broad daylight

3/10

almost every s1 suit

look, RA looks fantastic in a suit and no one is disputing that. I’m just saying that this is about as bland a suit and tie combo as it gets and from my recall of season one we see this almost every single time he’s in the station.

this one is even a bland grey. grey has it’s place but in the office it can turn into a bit of a snooze. mix up your office-wear & make it fun Daniel. wear a cool-coloured tie. put some funny socks on.

4/10 

the casual summer businessman

something bothers me about this. is it the combo of the untucked shirt and the khaki pants? on their own either is fine

or is it just that this is one of the first times we see Daniel and the look has almost no personality to it? who knows

4.1/10 (for the unbuttoned collar and rolled-up sleeves)

the casual summer businessman goes to a bbq

almost the exact same outfit as the casual summer businessman, but the shirt’s a different colour which somehow makes it a lot better

this man wouldn’t look out of place at a bbq, which is a great choice from the styling team considering Daniel actually wears this to the team bbq in the show

4.5/10 solely for just being a bit plain and boring

I’ve finished filing those papers you wanted

no tie and one undone button? Daniel, you tease!

4.6/10

sneaky sneaky boy part 2

this is what I’m talking about. I still find people wearing caps indoors incredibly suspicious for someone trying to blend in (possibly because I was raised to believe that hats were an outdoors only look) but Daniel looks like a grown man and no longer looks like he should be a 20 year old hacker. success!

4.6/10 for an ultra-casual Daniel

I’m just here to file some papers and get paid 

see? same suit every time. at least this one’s a nice black which is an upgrade from the grey and really suits RA

4.7/10

every day is a work day if you try hard enough - the winter edition

a non-matchy-matchy blue tie! a winter coat! a turned up collar! it may not be exciting but at least now we’re cooking

in all fairness though, our coat is quite dull and anonymous and the only real notable thing about it is the choice to keep the collar upturned. nothing to write home about if it wasn’t for the RA attached to it

4.7/10

every day is a work day if you try hard enough - the winter edition pt. 2

the hooded coat makes for a nice relaxation of the business suit. other than that, not much to say.

4.73/10

once more unto the (lapel) breach

we find ourselves having to ask: is Daniel Miller really Daniel Miller if his coat lapel isn’t popped?

this the FBI man who turns up at your house to either arrest you or escort you to safety. oh, sorry, CIA I guess given the context of the show

looks great because of RA being the one wearing it but a fairly mundane look

4.8/10

up, up, and away

bicycle Daniel was a nice look which I wasn’t expecting out of this show. mainly because I have never ever in my life seen a man in a suit on a bike. 

in NZ they all use cars and at the very least bike in casual clothes then get changed at work. is biking in suits a European thing?

there’s absolutely nothing special or spectacular about the clothes, but put Daniel on a bike and it works really well?

maybe it’s the cape effect or leather gloves. or even just the notion of seeing a fully-dressed business man in a suit whiz by you on a bicycle.

whatever it is, it’s appreciated

4.8/10

the party boy

in s1 Daniel has only one look if he’s going out on the town - he ditches the tie & opens two buttons (or three if he’s feeling saucy)

I’ll never complain about this this look because let’s be honest, who would, but we also need to face reality that, like his suits, it’s also a bit repetitive and lacks a bit of something after seeing it for the 5th episode in row

4.9 /10

it might be time for you to go to bed

the party boy has finally lost his ‘I’m too cool for you’ vibe and partied his jacket and several shirt buttons off (quite literally). bonus points for the completely rumpled shirt and hair

the only thing that is eye-catching in this outfit is the skin it reveals

4/10

puzzle time *finger guns* (to anyone who didn’t grow up in New Zealand quoting this ad I apologise)

now this is a Daniel I would sit down and do a puzzle with. which is probably a good thing as he is quite literally solving a puzzle in this scene

5/10 for evoking the correct feeling from the audience but otherwise there is nothing special here

is mission impossible hiring?

the gloves? the backpack? the jacket and zipped sweater? you see this man and know your mainframe is about to be hacked

not the worst. but not the best. love the zipped sweater, could lose the gloves.

5.5/10

let’s get cozy

now this is a dapper fellow. the thin black scarf? brilliant with the signature coat collar

a Daniel who would probably lend you his coat or scarf if you complained about the cold

5.6/10

someone who would feed the ducks at the park

this is how to put in RA in a baseball cap. the subtle tartan of his scarf, which is tied in a knot? the perfect winter spy outfit

this is a Daniel you want to go on walks in a park with.

5.8/10

uncle Daniel goes on a trip to the mall

the more I look at that jacket the more I appreciate it. It’s a stunning blue which makes a nice contrast to the usual dull grey of his sweater and is a colour that looks great on RA. It even has some quilting for added interest

5.96/10

he’s the ‘fun uncle’

the warm sweater and scarf? this is the uncle who takes you out to do fun things while you’re supposed to be grounded and tells you not to tell your mom

nothing amazing in this outfit but also nothing to complain about considering it’s in s1. a funner, casual side to Daniel we don’t often see (am I bitter about never seeing his cousin and her son after s1? a little)

a solid 6/10

hope is fragile and also a black sweater

the fact that we never see this sweater on its own is what lets it down here

putting that to one side, the snuggly sweater? the green bomber jacket? this is a classic s2 Daniel look. but hang on - this is from s1?

Daniel’s letting us know via this s1 outfit that it will all be good in the near future if we can just hang on until he gets his s2 wardrobe

6.1/10 for providing hope for the future

hello? it’s your future ex-boyfriend calling

this man isn’t Daniel Miller - he’s a career model who can GET IT and he knows it

6.6/10

comfy sweater boy

so simple but so, so, so good

this is a Daniel I would want to cuddle up on a couch with. he’s a soft boy who wouldn’t hurt anyone and probably makes a great hot chocolate

6.7/10

comfy sweater boy goes for a walk outside

the colour of his sweater goes nicely with the coat. and once again: is he really Daniel Miller if his collar isn’t popped?

he loses 0.1 of a point for losing a bit of the soft boy look that the sweater just by itself brought to the party

6/10

comfy sweater boy ran out of hot chocolate at his so comes round to your place for takeaway

I just really enjoy the colour of this sweater, okay? the easy, layered sweater look? the takeaway chinese? this is a man after my heart and I’m also pretty sure I’ve worn this exact outfit before

6.1/10

if looks could kill

leather jacket? perfect. but what really brings this together? the black v-neck of course. RA never wears enough v-necks

‘nuf said

6.9/10

the Adam Price moment

this is one of the rarest of cases - a s2 outfit that wasn’t a 100% hit for me. everything about this outfit slaps except for the polo shirt

blue bomber jacket? hell yeah. hidden orange detailing on the inside? that’s what I’m talking about. colour combo of shirt and jacket? well done

polo shirt itself? meh. even if it was just a plain polo that would have been great. for some reason the embroidered logo and collar stripes push me over the edge

I don’t know why but whenever I see a man in a polo shirt like this, I immediately think they are heading to the golf course and are probably not the type of person I would chill with (given that I don’t play golf)

on Adam Price? sure. on Daniel Miller? nah, he knows better

7/10 (mainly for the bomber)

guess who’s back? back again. Adam’s back. tell a friend

I know this is lower ranked than most of the outfits on this entire list but is still found at the upper end of this list. That’s ‘cause it just had to come after the Adam Price moment, okay?

they took everything that was wrong with the Adam Price moment (e.g. the entire polo shirt) and then focused our attention on it

it doesn’t matter how tightly it clings to RA’s body, it’s not overriding my unjustified hatred of polo shirts 

3.5/10

I’m here to make important calls while I dine in a fine restaurant

another updated suit look post-s1. I picture this Daniel eating at a nice Italian restaurant for lunch before returning to work for an important business conference

and is that a textured shirt I spy? well done

7.3/10

the shirt is even better without the jacket.

the undone buttons? c’mon

it’s just a nice shirt okay

7.5/10

comfy sweater boy’s older brother

for one thing, those low-slung sweatpants are a blessing and didn’t get enough screen time.

then on top of that the oversized shirt that drapes in just the right and most comfy way? the bare feet? I would call in sick to work if I saw Daniel wearing this outfit in my house

this is a Daniel who has lost comfy sweater boy’s innocence but who I would still wanna cook food and binge netflix with

this is absolute peak comfy Daniel

a well-deserved 7.8/10

the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel

this Daniel is the sum of everything that is wrong with s1 Daniel and everything that is right about s2 & s3 Daniel

the casual suit jacket. the rolled up sleeves. the loose casual shirt. this is a Daniel who works hard but knows how to have a good time and will 100% seduce you in a foreign city

8.5/10

come to the dark side

the same as the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel but with his classic coat and popped collar for some added mystery to the character

like the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel this man will 100% seduce you in a foreign city but also will not hesitate to use his superior strength to pin you against a wall while he makes out with you

8.59/10

I mean...

I’m not sure you can class underwear as an ‘outfit’ as such, but uh.... sorry, what was I saying? I got a little distracted 

I refuse to put a numerical rank on this/10

don’t tell your dad about this one

I know we’ve established that underwear is not really an outfit, but these are pants so I’m gonna say this one counts.

the undone belt? the obvious shirtlessness? hanging with this man will definitely end with someone in jail (and it won’t be him). but at least it’ll be a fun ride on the way down to hell

i refuse to assign numerical value to the semi-naked ones because that’s not fair on the other outfits/10

is he here to fix a car, murder someone or sweep me off my feet? who knows and honestly who cares when he looks like that?

the khaki jacket brings in some ruggedness which tip-top Daniel below is missing while still keeping it effortlessly cool.

this is Daniel. fucking. Miller and he doesn’t care what you think

99.99/10

tip-top Daniel

this is Daniel right at his peak. 

everything - the casual bomber from the Adam Price moment earlier, the plaid shirt, the undone buttons, the aviators. the HAIR. 

Damn, Daniel. Damn.

100/10

[zelda-ffitzgerald4]

https://www.instagram.com/p/CSK0YwDqxrN/?utm_medium=copy_link fat ass

He looks like a 50 year old dad playing golf after a long day at the office. The shirt is untucked, the tie is loosened, the little lady knows he's gonna be late because he's going to have a few with the boys after.

[chilling-seavey]

Ok but like what Daniel would be like for the girls prom or first school dance or something would be so cute

I’m working on a prom one right now buttttttt speaking of school dances…there’s no doubt that there’s at least one father-daughter dance thrown by the elementary school and that was when Clementine was nine...

It was a whole deal; the teacher had printed little invitations and tickets and were going to set up the gym to be like a little formal dance for the girls and their fathers. For nine-year-old Clementine, this was the best idea ever and the second she got in the car after school, she was shoving the invitation into her mother’s hands with a grin.

“Can I go, Mommy?” Clementine pleaded as she buckled up her seatbelt.

“I don’t think I’m the one you’re supposed to ask.” Florence chuckled, making sure all three girls were buckled and ready to go.

“When’s Daddy home from work?”

“Around 5:30 but we can go surprise him if you’d like.” Florence suggested.

“Yes!” the girls grinned.

So they made a stop on the way home to the studio and headed inside. The secretary knew the family well since they had been around a lot and she greeted the girls with a smile. Clementine walked right up to the desk, “I need to see Daddy. It’s important.”

“Important, is it? I’ll buzz you in and you can go find him right away.” The secretary chuckled and unlocked the inside door for them.

Clementine thanked her loudly and took off running down the hallway despite her mother’s call for her to slow down as she carried the toddler in one arm and held Penelope’s hand with her other. Daniel was in one of the studios at the end of the hall and Clementine peered through the glass door before letting herself in. Daniel looked up from the soundboard and smiled at the sight of his daughter.

“Hey, you.” he welcomed her eager hug as the rest of their family came in and he leaned back in his chair so Florence could dip down to kiss him. “What’s the special occasion?”

“I have something I need to ask you.” Clementine said, her hands grabbing tightly onto his arm.

“Okay?” Daniel glanced up at Florence hesitantly before looking back to their eldest.

“My school is having a dance…a very fancy dance…and I wanted to ask you if you would please go with me?”

“A very fancy dance?” Daniel questioned.

Clementine thrust the invitation at him and he skimmed it over, his smile only growing as he read the contents and he bent down to press a kiss to her head.

“Of course I’ll go with you, angel.”

It was only a week away on the following Friday night and Daniel took that afternoon off work so he could make sure he was home in time and all ready for the dance. He was almost more excited than Clementine was, and she was the one with a new dress. When Florence brought the two oldest girls home from school that afternoon, Daniel was already cleaning himself up in the ensuite bathroom, pushing his hair back and nearly emptying a can of hairspray on it, already in his dress pants and white button up that was still untucked and unbuttoned.

Florence whistled from her spot in the doorway, making him glance over at her a shoot her a small smirk before turning back to his hair, “Good thing there are no moms at the dance tonight or else you’ll be fighting them off.”

“Very funny.” Daniel rolled his eyes teasingly as she walked up beside him and rested her hand on his shoulder and they looked at each other through the mirror.

“Wedding suit?”

“Yeah.” Daniel pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Florence only smiled and gave his shoulder a little squeeze, “I gotta go help your date get ready. Button up your shirt before I tell you to just take it off.”

“Keep it G-Rated, baby, my gosh.” Daniel tisked playfully after her.

Clementine had a brand-new dress to wear to the dance, the bodice full of silver sparkles and the knee length skirt a metallic silver satin with a cute little bow around the waist; she even had a pair of silver kitten heels to wear underneath. Florence curled her hair in her bathroom mirror, the other two girls sitting with them watching in awe as their older sister’s blonde waves fell in soft little ringlets down her back. The look was finished off with a bit of pink lip gloss and Clementine grinned at herself in the mirror.

“Like it?” Florence asked, ruffling a hand through her daughter’s hair before spraying a bit of hairspray to keep it in place.

“I love it! Thank you, Mommy!” Clementine shrieked, throwing her arms around her mother’s waist before they were heading back into the living room. The girls sat on the couch as Florence put a few things in a little purse for Clementine, Lucy busying herself with tugging lightly at her sister’s curls.

Daniel finally came back down the hallway, dressed and ready to go in his full suit down to the shiny black dress shoes and the silver cufflinks that he was adjusting as he walked in. Clementine gasped and jumped off the couch.

“Daddy, you look so handsome.” she grinned and rushed up to him eagerly.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Daniel chuckled, taking a second to admire her, “You look absolutely gorgeous. I think there’s one thing missing though.”

Clementine’s face fell, “What?”

Daniel held out his hand and she took it, letting him lead her to the kitchen and he opened the fridge and pulled out a plastic box. Inside was a small white rose corsage and matching boutonniere and he leaned down in front of her to show her, watching how his daughter’s eyes went wide and absolutely sparkled with excitement.

“Gotta treat my date like the grown-up lady she is, right?” Daniel took her right hand and slipped the corsage on her wrist. “That okay?”

Clementine nodded and admired the flower before throwing her arms around his neck with a squeal before pressing a sticky kiss to his cheek. The other girls came over to see what all the fuss was about, both of them gaping jealously at their sister’s corsage as Florence helped pin Daniel’s boutonniere to the lapel of his jacket and then wiped the little lip gloss print off his cheek. He thanked her with a sweet kiss.

“Hey!” Clementine frowned up at them. “You’re my date tonight!”

“Sorry. You’re right. How awful of me.” Daniel said. “I’ll take it back.”

He pressed another kiss to his wife’s lips and pulled back dramatically before looking down to his daughter, “Okay?”

Clementine narrowed her eyes at them, “Fine.”

The two of them got their pictures taken in the living room and then were in the elevator down to the car to head towards the school. Daniel, of course, opened the car door for her and she thanked him sweetly as she climbed into her car seat and buckled her seatbelt up herself. When they got to the elementary school, there were already other father and daughter duos lining up and heading inside with their tickets and Clementine held onto Daniel’s hand as they made their way into the gym. Most of the dads wore nice collared golf shirts and ironed khakis, a few in slacks and button-ups, but Daniel was probably the only one in a full suit. He was a bit shy about it at first but as soon as they walked into the gym that was decked out like a little fairy-tale set and Clementine pulled him up to her principal who was greeting people at the door and said a proud, “This is my Daddy!”, Daniel could have freaking melted.

Dinner was served at the dance and they ate at a table of 8 with three other pairs of dads and daughters and Daniel knew two of the dads since their girls were friends with Clementine but all of them at the table seemed to be eyeing him almost jealously as the young father of not even twenty-eight yet was clearly outshining them in his pristine suit, perfect hair, and wrinkle-less face. Daniel was too hung up on his daughter to even care about what anyone else thought about him, how she sat there looking just like her mother and Daniel could only smile with pride at her as she talked excitedly to the table about whatever she so pleased.

And when the dancing started, Clementine and Daniel were inseparable, and he let her do lots of twirls under his arm so her sparkly dress would spin around and catch the light off the sequins sewn into the material. When the slow song came on, they held hands and swayed slowly around the gym floor, Daniel singing along softly to the song as Clementine beamed up at him. There was no one he loved more in the world and that was obvious, their bond strong and unique from the very start.

And when she fell asleep on the drive home, she looked just as little as when he held her in the hospital the day she was born, those long lashes resting on her cheeks and lips pouted sweetly. Daniel couldn’t help but stare at her through the rear-view mirror at each red light, how the city lights rippled across her face as they drove, a peaceful little girl he didn’t want to see grow up.

He carried her inside when they got home and, even though she was getting big and was quite heavy at nine-years-old, he still made it all the way to the fifty-sixth floor and into the apartment with her arms around his neck and her face squished against his shoulder. Daniel laid her down on her bed and carefully got her changed into her pyjamas while trying not to wake her up before tucking her under the blankets and pressed a kiss to her head, twirling one of her curls around his finger as he admired her a moment longer.

Florence was still awake in their room when he closed up the rest of the apartment and headed for bed himself. She smiled warmly at him as he closed the bedroom door behind him and loosened his tie with a heavy sigh.

“How was it?”

“So much fun.” Daniel admitted through a grin and leaned over the side of the bed to press a lingering kiss to her lips. “I love her so much.”

“I know.” Florence smiled, running her thumb over his cheek.

“She looks so much like you, you know.”

“So I’ve been told.” Florence chuckled and he kissed her again. She pushed a hand through his hair, eyes locked on his, “You gonna come to bed now?”

“Still wanna get me out of this suit?” Daniel bit lightly at his bottom lip, eyes dropping to her mouth before offering her a little smirk.

“Already did once on that honeymoon of ours, didn’t I?” Florence teased, shuffling herself a little as he climbed over top of her and kissed her strongly. She pushed his jacket off and to the floor between long kisses and took his face in her hands.

“God, I wanna make so many more babies with you.” Daniel groaned, grabbing her legs and tugged her farther down on the bed so she was laying down before leaning back in for another hungry kiss.

“Three’s our limit, remember?” Florence laughed.

“I know, I know.” Daniel buried his face in her neck to suck softly over her skin before moving back to look at her, “I love you.”

Florence grabbed the front of his button-up to keep him close, their noses brushing in their close proximity, taunting him with a cheeky, “Prove it.”