#stylish sleeve long shirt

[aungwen]

We produce life stylish fashionable formal and casual Men’s wear, different of ladies wear and attractive design wear in product. Its product types such as  long sleeve shirt, t-shirt, polo shirt, pant, formal pant, casual pant, denim pant, blazer, accessories of Rich Man BD brand etc.

[lovevalley45]

i feel like 98% of the outfits astra wears are either tank tops and long sleeves with like no in between. which is so funny to me, it’s all or nothing babey

[amittribekids]

Upgrade your child's wardrobe with our timeless long-sleeve shirt in our exclusive red checks. It can never go wrong... From playdates to parties this is the go-to shirt.

[revathivas]

Stylish Men's Wear Collection | Apparalio

Find things that suits you in our clothing stores online. Be the first to make fashion with our breathable and cool long sleeve shirt designs.

These t-shirts are made of soft and breathable cotton, and feature a stylish compass design with the word "wanderlust" on the front.

The wanderlust compass t-shirts come in various sizes, and are perfect for any occasion. Order yours today and get ready to embark on a journey of a lifetime!

[sophiaidomovement11]

Introducing our Limited Edition unisex black long-sleeve shirt that's designed to make a statement. Crafted entirely in full mesh, this shirt offers a daring and stylish look. With its breathable fabric, it provides comfort without compromising on style.

[loveya231]

Feel fresh every day by giving yourself a fresh look. Love You All come up with fantastic series of clothes. Browse our selection of men's and women's t-shirts for the summer, kangaroo pocket hoodies, sweatshirts, and stylish caps.

[houseofdivinoshirts]

If you are looking for the stylish shirts for men, trending shirts for men, men's button up shirts & tops , we are providing the Luxurious style and butter soft fabric provide a sensuous feel for any time of day. A decadent light-reflecting sheen creates a lustrous garment that is beautiful in appearance. This exclusive piece is designed by The House of Divino in Los Angeles, California. For more information , you can visit us : https://houseofdivino.com/collections/short-sleeve-shirts/products/fourth-grade-art-class

[imababblekat]

TmnT Boy's Reaction To April's Roomie Dressing Nice; Hc's

Anon request, "Hey so I have a quick request- but first ima say that I love your writing style and your spider-person/tmnt AU! It’s so fun to read your work and I say it again, I love it! Anyway tho, can I pls request on how the turtles react to our sleepy roommate, actually looking their best. Such as in a nice outfit and they freshened up. Please don’t feel like you have to write this. And you can skip it if you want. But ya, amazing work! ✨✨✨"

A/N: Aw thank you! sorry i've been dead lately, hopefully i'll be able to get to it tho ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ

◍ Previous/Mentioned Post◍

◌ (c,c) = chosen color ◌

~xXx~

Michelangelo:

100% whistles when he comes to pick you and April up for a special NYPD ceremony and gets a look at your nightly outfit

It’s not even anything super sexy; a (c,c) long sleeved, v neck jumper with a simple floral design down one of the open pent legs accompanied with a pair of (c,c) block heals and simple but stylish jewelry

The outfit and your styled up looks are just so different from what Mikey is used to seeing you in, which is usually either comfy sweats or casual clothing depending on the location

He lets you know how stunning you look and doesn’t miss the way you shyly try to hide your blush at his compliments, which only spurs him on some more

At one point in the night he makes a slightly flirtatious comment about how he’s not surprised you pulled off such a look, because he thinks you’re gorgeous in anything, and is promptly met with your very flustered response of shoving your matching orange purse in his face (he regrets nothing!)

Donatello:

This poor turt feels his stomach fluttering when lays eyes upon your outfit for the nights celebration

Accentuating your appearance is a soft (c,c) dress with a sewn on silk cape that covers your upper arms, frilly tights cover your legs and adorable (c,c) flats support your feet, and to top it all off is a simple but very cute pastel purple bow clipped neatly to your hair to pull it all together

Donnie nearly chokes up on his words trying to think of the right thing to say, as he’s so used to seeing you wearing anything else but this type of style

Eventually he settles for just offering you his arm to walk with him into the rented convention center the NYPD is hosting in, to which you appreciatingly take

You’re just so pretty and to be frank the purple bow is definitely throwing him off in the best of ways

Of course, Donnie being too smart for his own good, has a sneaking suspicion the accessory was a purposeful choice based on your little smirk and glinting gaze

Raphael:

All the impatience Raphael felt waiting for you and April to finish getting ready dissipates like water in the Sahara when his golden eyes lay witness to your get up

Enveloping you is a beautiful (c,c) asymmetrical cloak sleeved top that cascades diagonally down your form and to match are a pair of equally flowing wide leg trousers and (c,c) coned heels

The accessory picked to match is a very pretty necklace with a glimmering ruby, a detail that does not escape Raphael’s notice

Speaking of notice, it does not escape you the slightly awkward silence you and April are greeted with from the burly ninja

Raph is quick to fix himself when April ask if he’s okay, hoping no one notices the deep blush upon his cheeks, and he jokingly pretends to not recognize you, saying he’s just focused on trying to see where you’re at

You of course roll your eyes at his antics and smack his arm, Raphael chuckling at your slight feistiness he adores, and commits your un-characteristic appearance to the catalog of memories he has of you

Leonardo:

Much like Raphael, Leonardo is left speechless when the balcony window to your and April’s apartment opens to reveal your chosen attire for the NYPD ceremony

A (c,c) suit blazer tops a neatly ironed dress shirt that’s tucked into matching (c,c) slacks held up by a fastened belt and to match are a pair of (c,c) oxfords to offer your feet comfort as well as added fanciness

The blue tie around your collared shirt is what catches Leo’s eyes, a grin spreading across his face as he steps inside and makes a comment about how the outfit suits you

Ignoring his punny compliment you simply say thanks before adding that you just wish you could get the tie to not be crooked and if he would be okay lending a hand

Leonardo has no issue helping especially when it comes to you and as he closes the gap between you to adjust said troublesome tie, it takes all of his willpower to not get completely enraptured by the deepening blush upon your soft cheeks, that of which always seems to make him equally flush

~xXx~

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Fall Wardrobe Essentials

Staple Tees:

**Purchase in Modal, Pima cotton, or a cotton-cashmere blend**

Fitted crewneck tees (long-sleeves/tees & tanks for layering)

Relaxed fit long-sleeve tees

Turtleneck long-sleeve top (fitted & relaxed fit options)

Contour bodysuits

Blouses/Shirting:

Silk button-down blouse

Cotton button-down blouse

Silk shell top/t-shirts/camis (for layering)

Sculpt knit top(s)

Self-tie wrap blouse

Shirred boatneck, mock neck, or cowlneck silk blouse(s)

Leather button-down

Knitwear:

Thin cashmere/wool crewneck sweater (fitted/relaxed fit)

Thin cashmere/wool turtleneck sweater

Chunky relaxed-fit cable knit sweater

Knit polo-neck sweater

Cashmere sweater vest (crewneck, v-neck, and/or turtleneck)

Mockneck cashmere/wool sweater

Cashmere long-sleeve sweater dress

Cashmere/knit skirt (mini, midi, or maxi - depending on your personal preferences)

Sophisticated coordinating knit set (top/pants or skirt of your choice)

Casual knit set (top/pullover and relaxed fit pants)

Cashmere cardigan

Cable knit cardigan (doubles as a light jacket)

Bottoms:

Black straight-leg jeans

Black bootcut/flared jeans

Black straight/bootcut trousers

Wide-leg trousers (I love a solid black, black pinstripe, and black with lace-up detail selection)

High-waisted leather pants

Split hem trousers

Stretch jersey/cashmere pants (straight-leg or flared)

Quilted leather/tweed mini skirt

Knit/wool mini and/pencil skirt

Leather skirt (mini or midi)

Silk midi skirt

Dresses/Jumpsuits:

Knit/sweater dress

Little black dress (shift dress/A-line cuts are great)

Blazer dress/jumpsuit

Slip dress (for layering)

Minimal black jumpsuit ("LBJ")

Leather and/or denim dress or jumpsuit

Jackets & Outerwear:

Black tailored blazer

Leather blazer

Tweed jacket

Trench coat

Leather moto/cropped/bomber jacket

Black wool coat

Raincoat ( I like Rains for high-quality options on the affordable side that are still built to last for several seasons)

Statement jacket/coat

Footwear:

Sleek flat/low-heel black boots with a pointed-toe or square-toe silhouette (I love Vagabond, Jeffrey Campbell, Vince Camuto, and Sam Edelman for more affordable, high-quality options)

Black loafers/sleek black flats

Black lace-up boots

Black heeled boots

Black pumps

White sneakers

Rain boots (I recommend the Melissa Shoes Welly/Grip/Step boots or a stylish, sustainable, and more affordable option)

Accessories:

White/black ankle & crew socks

Black control top tights

High-waisted shapewear shorts

Chunky/small chain necklaces & bracelets

Simple pendant necklace(s)

Pearl necklace

Simple diamond studs

Crystal drop earrings

Minimalist bangles

Stackable rings

A sleek, minimalist black tote (can fit a laptop for work/travel)

Black shoulder bag

Small black bag (top handle, crossbody, etc.)

Statement bag/evening bag

Cashmere scarf

Silk/decorative scarf

Fingerless/touch-screen friendly, lightweight gloves

Lingerie/Loungewear:

Seamless bra/underwear

Lace bra/underwear

Matching pullover cotton sweatshirt/sweatpants

Knit or jersey cotton top/lounge pants set

Luxurious pajama set (silk, Tencel, cashmere, etc.)

A to-die-for piece of lingerie like a lace slip/silk teddy

Silk or cozy robe

Cozy open-back slippers

[cool-content-star]

“Street Smart” - Style for Every Male Sim’s Occasion

This Sims 4 set showcases a casual yet chic ensemble perfect for your male Sims. The outfit includes a button-up shirt left open to reveal a crisp tank underneath, paired with jeans that have a subtle yet detailed texture. The look is versatile for a range of activities, from hanging out with friends to exploring the town. It’s a great choice for Sims who want to look effortlessly stylish while maintaining comfort. 👕👖😎

Items in the set:

Short Sleeve Boxy Open Shirt with Tank in 20 colors

Long Tailored Trousers in 20 colors

PS, the tank top is solid, the net version of it is only available for blender and can be downloaded here

Notes:

New meshes

All Lods

Custom thumbnail

HQ Compatible

Base game compatible

❤️ With love ❤️ I hope you like it! ❤️

DOWNLOAD

If you want more male clothes, please reblog. ❤️

[leeyu-ri]

New Years Party | n.rk

Genre: fluff

W/C: 1.6k

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*

The anticipation of New Year’s Eve was palpable as you arrived at the grand celebration hosted at a friend's spacious rooftop apartment. The city skyline provided a stunning backdrop, with skyscrapers adorned in glittering lights and the promise of fireworks to welcome the New Year.

You were excited, not just for the festivities but because you knew Niki would be there. Niki, with his infectious energy and captivating smile, had been a growing presence in your life over the past few months. There was an unspoken connection between you, something that had been building and intensifying, and tonight felt like the perfect opportunity for something special to happen.

The party was in full swing when you arrived. The rooftop was adorned with twinkling fairy lights, and the air was filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. People mingled, danced, and shared stories of the past year while looking forward to the one ahead.

You spotted Niki across the crowd, chatting animatedly with a group of friends. He wore a white blazer over a black long-sleeved shirt with silver jewelry, effortlessly stylish as always. When his eyes met yours, his face lit up with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. He excused himself from the conversation and made his way over to you.

“Hey, you made it!” he said, his voice warm and welcoming.

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

The two of you fell into easy conversation, the familiar banter and shared jokes making you feel at ease. You talked about your plans for the coming year, shared your hopes and dreams, and laughed about the small, silly things that had happened over the past months. Niki had a way of making you feel comfortable and valued, his attention focused solely on you.

As the night wore on, you found yourselves gravitating closer to each other, the unspoken tension between you becoming more palpable. The rooftop became a magical space, filled with friends, laughter, and a sense of anticipation for the New Year. The hosts had set up a photo booth adorned with props and decorations, and you and Niki couldn't resist taking a few goofy pictures together, each snapshot capturing the joy of the evening.

At one point, a friend brought out a tray of champagne flutes, and everyone gathered to toast the year gone by. Niki handed you a glass, his fingers brushing yours as he did so. "To new beginnings," he said, raising his glass and looking into your eyes.

"To new beginnings," you echoed, clinking your glass against his and feeling a warm flush spread through you.

As midnight approached, the energy on the rooftop shifted. The music grew softer, and the countdown began to draw everyone’s attention. Niki turned to you, his eyes reflecting the twinkling lights around you.

“Shall we find a good spot for the fireworks?” he suggested.

You nodded, and he took your hand, leading you to the edge of the rooftop where the view of the city was unobstructed. The two of you stood there, the cool night air brushing against your skin, your hands still entwined.

The countdown began, and the crowd around you joined in. “Ten, nine, eight…” Each second felt like an eternity, your heart pounding with anticipation.

As the countdown reached its final moments, Niki turned to face you. “Three, two, one… Happy New Year!” The words echoed in the air, followed by the explosion of fireworks lighting up the night sky.

In that instant, with the sky ablaze with colors, Niki cupped your face gently with his hands. His touch was warm and reassuring, and his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an emotion that took your breath away. Slowly, he leaned in, and your lips met in a kiss that was everything you had hoped for and more.

The kiss was soft and tender at first, a gentle exploration that spoke of promise and affection. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, and the feel of his hands on your skin sent a wave of warmth through you, chasing away the chill of the night air.

As the fireworks continued to burst in the sky, painting everything in vibrant hues, the kiss deepened. Niki’s lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate passion, each touch a silent declaration of his feelings. His hands slid from your face to your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded by wrapping your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself in the moment.

The kiss was filled with the excitement of new beginnings and the sweet anticipation of what the future might hold. It was unhurried, each second stretching into eternity, giving you both the time to savor the connection. You could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat matching yours, a steady drumbeat that underscored the magic of the moment.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other’s. Niki’s eyes sparkled with a mix of joy and relief, and he smiled, a boyish grin that made your heart soar.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

“Happy New Year,” you replied, your voice just as soft and full of promise.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, dancing, and shared moments. But it was that kiss, set against the backdrop of a sky filled with fireworks, that stayed with you. It was a kiss that marked the beginning of something beautiful, a New Year filled with possibilities and the blossoming of a love that had only just begun.

After the fireworks display, the party continued with renewed energy. The band played a mix of lively tunes and slow ballads, and you and Niki danced together, swaying to the music. His hand on the small of your back and the warmth of his touch made you feel cherished and safe.

At one point, a slow song began to play, and Niki pulled you closer. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "This is perfect," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the music.

Niki tilted his head slightly to rest his cheek against your hair. "It really is," he agreed softly.

As the night progressed, you found yourselves retreating to a quieter corner of the rooftop, away from the main crowd. The stars above were clear and bright, and the city's twinkling lights stretched out before you. Sitting together on a cushioned bench, you talked about everything and nothing, sharing dreams and secrets under the vast night sky.

Niki's arm was draped around your shoulders, and you leaned into his side, feeling the comfort of his presence. He occasionally pressed soft kisses to your temple, each one sending a flutter of joy through you. The connection between you felt natural and right, as if you'd known each other for much longer than a few months.

"I have to admit," Niki said after a while, his voice thoughtful, "I've been looking forward to tonight for a long time. I hoped we might share a moment like this."

You turned to look at him, your heart swelling with affection. "Me too," you confessed. "I’ve always felt there was something special between us."

He smiled, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his feelings. "I'm glad you feel that way. I want this year to be filled with more moments like this, with you."

You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. "I want that too, Niki."

He leaned in, capturing your lips in another sweet, lingering kiss. This kiss was filled with the promise of a future together, a silent agreement to cherish and nurture the bond you shared.

As the first light of dawn began to hint at the horizon, the party began to wind down. Guests started to leave, exchanging hugs and well-wishes for the New Year. Niki walked you to the exit, his hand never leaving yours.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked, his voice gentle.

You smiled up at him, feeling a rush of warmth. “I’d love that.”

The two of you walked through the quiet streets, the world still wrapped in the remnants of the night’s celebration. The crisp air was invigorating, and Niki’s presence beside you made every step feel light and joyful.

When you finally reached your doorstep, you turned to face him, reluctant to say goodnight. “Thank you for an amazing evening, Niki. It was perfect.”

He took both your hands in his, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “Thank you. Tonight was unforgettable because of you.”

He leaned in for one last kiss, a soft, lingering goodbye that promised more to come. When he pulled back, his eyes were filled with a tender affection that made your heart ache in the best way possible.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

“Goodnight,” he replied, his smile warm and full of promise. “I’ll see you soon.”

As you watched him walk away, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation for the year ahead. The New Year had begun with a kiss, a promise, and a heart full of hope, and you knew that with Niki by your side, it was going to be a beautiful journey.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*

[micamicster]

Super Rich Kids

Close my eyes and feel the crash...

I wrote this one on post-its on a trans-continental flight after my phone (where i was re-reading the raven cycle) died. 0/10 plane experience would not recommend but I did manage to entertain myself! And now hopefully you as well!

When Ronan pulled into Monmouth Manufacturing he knew Gansey wouldn’t be there. Adam Parrish was, though, sitting on the steps in the golden afternoon light, bike dumped to the side in dying grass. He didn’t so much as flicker an eyelid when Ronan bootlegged the BMW into an approximation of parking on the far side of the lot, which was fine because that’s how he would have parked the car anyway, whether or not Adam was here.

Ronan was pretty sure that Gansey had arranged a shift system with the other boys, to prevent Ronan from being unaccompanied on the rare occasions of his own absence. The idea of a babysitter should have rankled Ronan, but Adam did not seem particularly invested in his role. Small favors.

As he got out of the car he gave Adam his customary once-over, as brief as it was habitual. You could notice a lot in a single glance, if you were Ronan, glancing at Adam.

Adam was wearing long sleeves (his father? Or just because it was October?) and his faded camo pants, the ones Ronan said made him look like a jingoistic meathead. They had recently acquired a tear in one knee. Not in the stylish, deliberate manner in which Ronan’s own jeans were shredded, but awkwardly, in an L-shape, where they had caught on some jagged edge and given way before even careful Adam had noticed and unhooked himself. The tear gaped open at times, like it was doing now, revealing Adam’s knobby left knee and, worse, a triangle of his brown thigh.

Ronan looked away.

Ronan never allowed himself, even in dreams, to trespass beyond the carefully demarcated boundaries of Adam’s clothes. And Adam was usually helpful in the maintenance of this boundary. Unlike Gansey, who could be found working on his model Henrietta in boxers at all hours of the night, or wandering to and from the shower in a towel, absent-mindedly forgetting his clothes in bathroom or bedroom. Unlike the boys Ronan played tennis with, who stripped down casually in the locker room after practice. Unlike even Ronan himself, who’d never met a shirt he couldn’t rip the sleeves off; Adam was always fully covered.

This summer, foolishly, Ronan had imagined that this might change. Now that the hideous secrets Adam protected with his long sleeves were no longer his alone. But by now he knew what kept those sleeves in place, something that Adam had already understood: that knowing and seeing are two very different things.

For example: this. Ronan knew that Adam, like most people who walked around on earth under their own power, possessed thighs. Two of them, attached in the normal way to other body parts, such as knees and hips. To know this was one thing.

Now that he’d seen it, he couldn’t stop seeing it. The way his knee bent, and the muscle above shifted as Adam made room on the steps for him. Ronan was looking away, out at the familiar, grounding, skid marks on the concrete of Monmouth’s lot, but he could picture in their place with deadly accuracy the hinge of Adam’s knee, the tanned skin of his thigh, scattered with golden-brown hair. He could dream about pressing his face against it.

He picked up a rock and hurled it. It glanced off the side of the soulless suburban and fell anticlimactically into the grass dying by the rear tire. It didn’t help.

Adam shifted next to him, subtly.

“What?” said Ronan. “Impressed?”

“Surprised, more like. I thought you were supposed to be the tennis star.”

“You think you can do better?” Ronan pried another hunk of gravel or concrete out of the dirt and tossed it in his left hand, tauntingly.

“I know I can.”

“But?”

“But,” said Adam, with some hint of exasperation coloring his voice, “I’m not going to sit here chunking rocks at Gansey’s car to prove it. My ego’s not that fragile.” His accent slipped out on chunkin’, not as if Ronan had pissed him off enough to forget to hide it, but as if it was a word he’d never used any other way.

Ronan threw his rock again. This was, if anything, a worse throw than before, and it skittered harmlessly across the suburban’s roof.

Adam made a small but contemptuous noise.

“Don’t give me that shit, man. You know he hates this fucking car.”

“That was for your shitty aim.”

“Come on then.” Ronan hefted another piece of gravel. “Ten points if you knock out his taillight.”

“It costs a hundred and five dollars to replace a taillight on that make and model. Plus tax.”

Ronan’s brief cheer was collapsing again. “I’ll pay you a hundred bucks to bust Dick’s lights.”

Adam blinked slowly, his dusty eyelashes obscuring the contempt in his eyes for a brief moment. “I’ll leave.” (He wouldn’t).

Ronan dropped the rock. Next to him Adam sighed. Abruptly, he put out his hand. “Telephone pole. Six feet from the top.”

Ronan swept back up the rock and dropped it into his hand. Their fingers did not touch. His heart thudded.

Adam tossed the rock once, testing its weight while his gaze, cool and assessing, remained on the telephone pole. It was a splintered, tilting thing, shamed by his attentions. In one smooth, economical movement, he rose to his feet and let the rock fly. His leg went forward, knee jutting out of his clothes, his back curved, and his arm swept around in an arc, fingers scraping at the blue October sky. Ronan didn’t need to turn his head to know if the rock hit—he could see it in the brief hard satisfaction on Adam’s face.

Adam turned back to him, one eyebrow cocked.

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to earn that hundred,”

Adam shrugged. The gesture was disinterested, but there was a quirk to his mouth that contradicted it. “I know nothing blew up, but…”

Ronan already had another rock in his hand. “West corner lightbulb. It breaks or it doesn’t count.” Adam rolled his eyes, but turned agreeably to watch Ronan miss.

“Would you like to get your tennis racket?”

“Eat me,” said Ronan. (Maybe).

They traded shots back and forth for a while, calling increasingly specific and complex plays.

“Bullshit. Bullshit.”

“Get the government to pay for some glasses, Parrish, and then come back and try to tell me that wasn’t a fucking bullseye—”

“It wasn’t even close! You—”

“You calling me a liar?” Ronan loomed, and Adam, as usual, was unimpressed.

“Just because you don’t lie doesn’t make you right all the time! Like when you said that quote on Tuesday was Seneca. It doesn’t stop being Martial just because you’ve got a child’s sense of morality—”

“See, right there.” Ronan pointed triumphantly at an invisible scuff mark on the doorsill, marking where his handful of gravel had made impact.

Adam gave it a skeptical glance. His face was faintly flushed from exertion in the cold air, but his eyes were as cool and considering as ever. “What we need,” he said, “is a knife.”

Ronan was not allowed knives.

~

“Are you trying to stab each other in the feet? Why are your shoes off! It’s October!”

“Equal playing field.” Ronan wiggled his toes against the cold asphalt. “Parrish’s shitty knife is no match for my boots.” Over Gansey’s head, Ronan tried to catch Adam’s eye, to share a ‘can you believe him’ sort of look. Adam’s embarrassment over being caught acting irresponsibly meant Ronan could expect the look to be rebuffed, but he couldn’t help himself from trying it anyway.

Adam was bent over, eyes hidden. He carefully dusted off his socked feet one at a time before sliding them back into his shoes, as though the socks or sneakers could look any worse. A little parking lot crud might improve their appearance, actually.

Next to him, Gansey was still fussing. Without the pressure release valve of eye contact with someone who knew Gansey was overreacting, Ronan snapped, “Come off it, man, I’m not going to slit my throat while Parrish watches. He can’t afford that caliber of snuff film.”

Gansey’s concern transformed into revulsion, but underneath it he looked hurt, which was far far worse.

Adam straightened up. “We were just using it to mark where we hit. Honestly, we could have done it tossing a sharpie, but neither of us had one.” He sounded conciliatory, which pissed Ronan off. But Gansey was letting it go, returning the knife to Adam with an apologetic smile. Sorry for the fuss. Sorry for Ronan. Ronan’s bare feet were cold against the asphalt.

“Well? Are you going to throw or not, Parrish?” he said belligerently.

Adam rolled his eyes, but obligingly stooped for gravel and let one fly at Ronan’s open bedroom window, a shot he made easily.

Gansey whistled. “You’ve got quite the arm on you. How come you’re not on the Algionby baseball team?”

Adam shifted his feet, awkwardly.

“Please,” scoffed Ronan, “he’s not a team player.”

Gansey did not let it go. “Bet you’d have a better fastball than both our pitchers.”

There was a pause, during which Adam’s face clearly showed all of the thoughts he was trying to corral into a polite response to Gansey’s unconsidered enthusiasm. Ronan got there first. “Yeah, Parrish, why not hitch your wagon to the star of organized sports, like every other rags to riches wannabe?”

“Ronan!” said Gansey, Ronan’s offensiveness registering where his own had not.

“Hitch my wagon to a star?” Adam was unruffled. “I thought quoting Transcendentalists could get you excommunicated.”

“Who said I know it’s Emerson. It’s a sourceless idiom to those of us who aren’t sad little nerds.”

Adam smirked. The smirk said, I never said Emerson. His words said, “Gansey’s damning me with faint praise. No one’s going pro out of an Algionby sport team. Even tennis.”

“Ouch,” said Ronan, cheerfully. “Hit me where it really hurts. My school pride.”

~

Now that Gansey had arrived, his plans for the day took precedence over noble pastimes such as flipping pocketknives at each other’s feet. His plans involved comparing readings from various instruments and then placing said various instruments in various new locations, all of which were equally arbitrary (to Ronan’s eyes) and inaccessible. Gansey’s plans involved him waiting by the car to monitor the readings while people hiked with antennae to the outermost reaches of the signal. People, in this instance, being Ronan and Adam, Noah having mysteriously and silently fucked off, as he so often did when a job required carrying anything.

Ronan put his head down and trudged. It was brambly here, and slightly damp, and he was beginning to work up the kind of counter-intuitive sweat that appears from working in the cold, the kind that makes you colder later.

As the person leading the hike, custom would dictate that he should catch and hold the long clinging arms of the brambles for the following hiker. This presented a dilemma. Ronan compromised, and set about stomping the multiflora into the ground as he walked. Scarlet hips burst under his feet, invasive and beautiful, spreading their millions of seeds across the damp earth. Noxious weeds.

“It’s too unreliable,” said Adam, into the silence. “Sports. It all depends on… your physical condition.”

“And your condition is shit.”

There was Adam’s ironic smile. “Yes. So.” He shrugged. There was the part they weren’t saying, which was that his physical condition could always get worse. Unexpectedly.

“My dad hates baseball.” Ronan heard himself make the slip—hates and not hated—and a spark of fury burned through him, brief and inconsequential.

“My dad loves it.”

They marched on in silence.

Adam swore as a bramble Ronan had beaten down sprang up again, catching him right across the tear, where his skin was exposed. He bent to unhook it from the camo with deft, deliberate hands. “What?” he said, like he could feel Ronan’s eyes.

Ronan looked away. “Why not the military?” He kicked purposelessly at the bramble and heard Adam sigh. “And don’t tell me you never thought about it. Test scores like yours out in hicksville high school, you must have had recruiters hopping all over you like fleas.”

“Would you believe I had a moral objection?” Adam’s smile was self-deprecating. Ronan studied it.

“No.”

Adam shrugged. It, too, was self-deprecating.

“I think you had a superiority objection. You think you’re too smart for that shit.”

Adam blinked at him. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

Ronan snorted. “Hell no. You can do better than getting blown up in a desert for the United States government.”

The smile, when it came, was small and stunning. “Damned by faint praise again.”

[lovelettersbyj]

Hunger For Power

Warnings: None.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem Reader (?).

Summary: Pearl Whitegrove is a fashion intern, who, after a few meetings with Coriolanus Snow, realizes that if she wants to be Panem's next top Fashion Designer, she has to make sure she's at Coriolanus' side when he inevitably gets into power. It helps that he's devastatingly attractive.

Word Count: 1,814.

A/N: After having watched the new Hunger Games movie, this idea popped into my head and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I wanted to create a character that was sort of the opposite of Tigris? A negative influence for Coriolanus that ultimately turns into a toxic love interest for him. I quickly wrote up this sort of intro to her character, so I hope you all enjoy! Also I should say, I've never read the books and I'm only going off of the movies/making up information. So I apologize if anything is slightly wrong/doesn't match.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How’s that cousin of yours, Tigris?” Continuing to sew, I glanced up at the blonde haired woman who sat across from me. She was busy stitching some dark turquoise buttons to a white long-sleeved shirt, trying her best to hide from our mentor and boss Fabricia Whatnot.

She looked up at me with a stoic expression, then back down to her secret project. “He’s fine.”

I chuckled, returning my attention to my dress. In a few days, the 10th annual reaping ceremony would take place. I knew Coriolanus because of Tigris, and in the few conversations I’d had with him, I knew how powerful he could be. He was intelligent; speaking always with such an elegant charm that could convince anyone to listen and obey him. He’d choose his words carefully and completely analyze the situation in front of him before speaking. If he played his cards right, I could very well see Coriolanus Snow becoming the new President of Panem. That is, if Dean Casca Highbottom didn’t despise him as much as he did.

The door to Fabricia’s office swung open, her long magenta hair peeking out as she yelled out to us, “I want those designs done before the sun goes down today. Otherwise, neither of you are getting paid. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Madam Whatnot,” Tigris and I both nodded, never once making eye contact with her, and rather, continuing to sew at a faster pace.

Of course someone as incredibly stylish and knowledgeable in the fashion industry as Fabricia Whatnot was also something of a wicked demon. She was incredibly rude to her employees, particularly Tigris & I. Hired under the impression of an apprenticeship, we quickly met a much more grim fate in the form of slave labor. She took advantage of young capitol people with a hunger for fashion, tempting us with the idea of being able to one day create our own designs for the capitol students, citizens, and even Hunger Games tributes to dawn our clothing. So in the meantime, we worked long hours, had little rest, and even more little pay.

Hours had passed, and Tigris and I miraculously finished the designs Whatnot had asked for. With a wave of her bony hand, she dismissed us, and sliding on our coats we exited her office and made our way out of the office. Upon opening the large glass door to the front of the building, a somewhat scrawny, curly haired blonde man stood waiting with his back turned to us.

“Coryo,” Tigris spoke, and he turned, his eyes lighting up and a smile decorating his face, “What are you doing here?”

He walked over, taking her hand to help her down the last step, “Grandma’am told me you hadn’t come home yet, so I figured I’d come down to wait for you to finish work. I don’t want you walking home alone so late.”

I slipped my hands into my olive green coat, tilting my head slightly towards him. He had a slightly boyish look, with an air of innocence about him. But all the whispers about him were true, he was much more handsome up close.

“Coriolanus,” I smiled, “I was wondering when I’d see you again.”

His attention now switched over to me, a gleam in his eyes highlighting the striking pale blue color, “Pearl Whitegrove. It’s certainly been too long.” With a hand extended, I reached my palm out, placing my fingers carefully over his. Lifting his hand, his lips brushed over my knuckles ever so softly in a formal greeting. How warm his lips were, I thought.

“I hear you’re first in line for the Plinth Prize. You must be ecstatic. Finally, the Snow name is making a comeback.”

His lip curled up in a curt smirk, “Well, yes, I’ve studied hard and hope to be congratulated for my efforts. But all I want is to provide for my family.”

“Right,” I chuckled, glancing over to Tigris whose face slowly became more worried as she tucked herself behind Coriolanus’ back, “The fame and fast track into University would just be a bonus, huh?” 

Silence. Just as I thought.

“Well, Coriolanus, I wish you the best of luck. If there’s one thing I know, is that you’ll find a way to succeed one way or another. You’ve got this… hunger in you. It drives you. I think ultimately it’ll guide you to what you want—” Tigris’ hand wrapped around Coriolanus’ arm in attempts to pull him away, “—If you allow it to take over.”

He looked down at her, placing a hand over hers before looking back to me, “Thank you, Pearl. Let’s hope you’re right.”

They turned away, walking towards the main road. Shortly after crossing, a familiar black car pulled up, with a man dressed in a charcoal colored tailcoat stepped out, extending a hand towards the open door for me.

“Yes, Coryo. Let’s.”

————————

10th Annual Reaping Ceremony

It seems as if a few days went by in a matter of seconds, and before I knew it, the Reaping Ceremony had arrived. In a strange change of heart, Fabricia Whatnot had excused everyone from coming into work that day and instead encouraged us to attend the ceremony.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about my last conversation with Coriolanus Snow. The way his blue eyes shimmered under the dim lights of the street lamps. How thin his frame was, hiding underneath his slightly oversized Academy uniform. His hair was so blonde and curly, a single strand hanging delicately just across his forehead. Every bit of my brain was obsessed with him, and I made it my mission to get him to feel the same.

Taking in a deep breath, I dusted off my golden yellow dress, grabbed my black coat and made my way out the door.

Entering the Academy building I was greeted with a sea of red and blue, students shuffling about the main floor as they met up with friends; greeted teachers. I glanced around in search of a familiar face, when I suddenly felt a hand land cautiously on my shoulder. Turning around, I was greeted with the same pair of eyes that hadn’t left my mind for days.

“Pearl,” His deep voice spoke, “What a surprise.”

Any sort of control I had to stop the smile from forming on my face completely failed me, “Coriolanus, hi.” Be cool. “I see Tigris’ secret project turned out well.”

Coryo furrowed his eyebrows, and I pointed to his shirt. He let out a small laugh, running a hand  across his chest, “Oh yes. It came out quite well. I had her make a few modifications—”

“I know, she would always work on it when Whatnot wasn’t around. I figured it was for today.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, embarrassed at the fact that his cousin was scrambling to help him look his best. “So why are you here and not at work?”

We both turned, slowly walking up the staircase towards the ballroom, “Fabricia told us all not to come in and to attend today’s ceremony. She wouldn’t tell us why— I figured Tigris would be here?”

Coriolanus just shook his head, his face blank with confusion. Before he could respond, a short girl with long black hair seemingly appeared out of nowhere, slipping her arm to loop with Snow’s. “Coriolanus! It’s about time the prodigy student showed up.”

Her eyes met with mine, slightly narrowing as she analyzed everything about me. I cocked my eyebrow at her, unwaveringly unbothered by her. Except for the fact that she was about to steal Coriolanus away from me.

“I’m sorry— I’ll find you afterwards?” Snow looked directly at me, an apologetic tone in his voice. Glancing over to the strange girl, I nodded, looking back up at him with a soft smile.

I found my way to an open seat just across from the 24 chairs that had been placed for the graduating honors Academy students. I watched as Snow sat down in the first row, looking around the room before eventually finding me. He smiled as I gave him a small wave, which he returned gladly. A faint sensation of butterflies began to arouse deep in my stomach at the acknowledgement. Damn it. The ceremony began shortly after, with Dr. Volumina Gaul seemingly having crawled her way out of her laboratory and in front of the podium to give an opening speech, before introducing Dean Highbottom. He stood amongst the sea of red dressed Academy students, speaking cryptically about the Plinth Prize and the Reaping Ceremony. Upon reaching the front of the podium he revealed the sudden change; the 24 honor students were to compete as mentors for the tributes as a last attempt to prove their worthiness of the Plinth Prize money. 

Gasps echoed throughout the room; mutters of protest and shock as everyone began to look around in desperation. My eyes were glued to Coriolanus’ face, whose jaw gaped ever so slightly in disbelief before looking up at me. I remained still; I didn’t know how to react.

Suddenly two large screens on the wall in front of the students clicked on, playing live footage of the Reaping ceremony. Boys and girls from each District appeared on screen as Highbottom read aloud the names of the tributes, and the student assigned to them. One by one, the tributes were handed out like livestock. I held my breath, terrified to hear Snow’s name, but it almost never came. Not until Highbottom arrived at District 12, assigning him to a girl by the name of Lucy Gray Baird.

My eyes narrowed at the screen as I watched her, analyzing the messily sewn, colorful dress that dawned her tiny figure. She had a natural beauty, but was covered in dirt and poorly applied makeup. She got into an altercation with the man who had just read out her name, which landed her a blow to the face, making her collapse to the floor of the stage she was on.

I whipped my head as the sound of a chair scraping against the floor alerted my senses, seeing now how captivated Coriolanus Snow was to the scene unfolding on the screen before him. Why was he so worried about her?

Anger was now the only emotion raging through me, or perhaps jealousy? Whatever it was, it was interrupted when a soft voice began to sing, echoing throughout the entire room. Everyone’s attention was back onto the screen, watching in a stark silence how Lucy Gray slowly stood back up as she sang some song. Additional voices from various District 12 members rang through before she screamed at the camera, extending her arms and taking a bow.

She is nothing but trouble. I looked back over at Coriolanus, but he didn’t return the glance. She can ruin everything.

[amittribekids]

Stylish and versatile indo western long sleeve shirt with mandarin collar in our exclusive blue garden print. Pair it with any of our pants or bermudas. It goes with everything!

[osamusriceballs]

Private Tour

Tsukishima x fem reader

Warnings: None

Words: ~ 2,1 k

About: Musuem guide Tsukki- idk, he's kinda cute, kinda flirty and mean, and kinda awkward. He's Tsukki~

A/n: The way I looked up actual information about that museum and Sendai city- no way I'm LEARNING THINGS BY WRITING A FANFIC WHAT THE HECK-

"I can show you around, Miss."

You look up at the very first time you've been hearing English words ever since you started walking around in the Sendai City Museum.

A surprisingly tall, blonde guy looks down at you- a pair of stylish glasses sitting on his nose, as well as a slightly arrogant look on his face if you’re being honest with yourself. A look at his name tag reveals that his name is "Tsukishima" and after looking at him dumbfounded for a few moments, he bites the inside of his cheek, exceeding a mixture of annoyance and regret. "Do you not speak English, Miss?"

You blink a few times before you finally nod, feeling embarrassed by how long you have been staring at him. "Uhm- yes I do."

"You've been walking around aimlessly for quite some time. Our security guard put you on the "watch" list, but I figured you simply don't speak Japanese and don't understand the structure of this museum."

You stare at him again, impressed by his flawless pronunciation- and after realizing what he just said, you keep on staring but with heated cheeks.

"Oh... I didn't want to cause problems. I don't speak Japanese, you're correct. I'll take a leave then." You nod and slightly bow, appreciating that he deemed you as "not suspicious enough to get her kicked out by the security guards, but still weird enough to politely kick her out myself". You quickly turn on your heels, avoiding to look at the very security guard that probably put you on the "suspicious" list, as well as that blonde museum guide that apparently wants to get you out of there as well.

"Wait, wait- I didn't mean it like that-" a few big strides form the tall man, and he has already caught up to you, extending his long arm to stop you before he quickly steps in front of you.

You stop abruptly, confused by his effort to catch up to you and the deep irritated frown on his face. "It's fine. You don't need to apologize." You reassuringly smile and lift your palms to show him that it's really fine, it’s not his fault after all, but he bites the inside of his cheek once again. A habit?

"I meant the offer. I can show you around."

It's your time to frown now at his sudden persistence-

You look at him intensely for the first time, trying to figure out his intentions at this point. The sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled up, and his upper arms seem surprisingly muscular- he generally makes a very fit impression to you. His blonde hair is curled, slightly falling down onto his forehead, and even though it should look messy like this, it's rather cute and handsome on him. He looks really intelligent- probably the combined effect of the intense look in his pretty brown eyes and his position as a museum guide. He's actually very attractive-

"Please." He adds after a few seconds, the word coming heavily from his lips, and you’re somehow convinced that he's genuine with his offer.

"Um... okay. If you insist. But if you're just being polite, there is no need too. I've already seen most of the exhibit, I don't mind leaving now."

He nods after your words and slightly bows, his face looking a bit more relaxed now that you've accepted his offer. "Follow me."

His arm rests behind your back, almost touching you for a second to guide you the way towards the entrance. " My name is Tsukishima Kei. We'll start in chronological order of the exhibit, it's easier for you to get into the topic that way."

"How do you know my age?" You ask him dumbfounded, simply following this man wherever he leads you. "The security guard checked your ID when you entered."

The way he nonchalantly states it makes you stunned for a few seconds, but you're quick to recover from it. "What's your age then? And your birthday?"

He rolls his eyes at your words, but you don't feel real annoyance from him. "Why should I tell you that?"

"Isn't it unfair that you know my birthday and I don't have the chance to know yours?"

He hisses quietly and rubs the back of his head, and you wonder if he already starts to regret talking to you. "September 27. 1996."

"Oh." You nod at his words, actually surprised that he seems so talkative and considerate now. He suddenly stops, and you find yourself standing in a big room that you have passed before. You remember your attempt to read the pretty engraved information on the walls, but quickly giving up when you notice that there were very few words written in English. Is the way you fidgeted with your phone for an eternity and (futilely) used a translator why you were put on the "watch" list?

"Have you heard of Date Masamune?"

You purse your lips to suppress a smile- an embarrassed smile when you recall where you've heard that name before. Tsukishima raises a brow and takes your lack of response as answer.

"You've heard that name. From anime I guess?"

You slowly nod, avoiding looking at him at all cost, but a sudden snort makes you look at him- and you realize that he's laughing. You would be mad at him for making fun of you, but his laugh sounds surprisingly cute and so contrary to the cold persona that he has displayed so far that you don't find it in you to get angry. He regains composure after a few seconds and clears his throat before he turns back to being serious and bored- but the short glimpse at this side of him makes your stomach tingle.

"He actually found the city of Sendai. He was a regional ruler during Japan's Azuchi–Momoyama period and the early Edo period."

"Really? He found this city?" You look at him with raised eyebrows, impressed by the new information.

"He did. However, the Sendai area has been inhabited a very long time before that actually. The story of this city mostly began at around 1600 though."

"With Date Masamune?" you ask, and he nods with a pleased hum. "Correct."

"I would assume that you led me here to show me his battle armor?" you gesture towards the metal suits in front of you, and he nods once again. "Correct again."

"See, I don't need you, I can figure it out on my own." You try to joke to lighten up the mood, and much to your surprise, his lips turn into an amused curl at your words.

"Sure. You want my name tag and show around the next group of visitors?"

"Y/n Tsukishima doesn't sound too bad, does it?" You grin- and freeze when you realize the meaning of your words. He coughs, a slight redness now tainting his pale cheeks, and you quickly avert your gaze.

"I guess it doesn't." Your breath stocks at his words, and now you definitely don't have enough courage to look at him.

"Tell me more about his battle armors. Why are there so many? I can't believe he's worn all of them." You quickly try to turn his attention to something else, and he turns his body towards the exhibition again.

"This is his original battle armor." He gestures towards a black armor with a crescent moon on top. "The design is also used in most anime depictions of him." He side eyes you at the comment but you decide to ignore it, not wanting to tell him that he nailed it. "But some of these armors have only been worn for ceremonies. And the ones in the back are from Toyotomi Hideyoshi." You try to keep your poker face when he drops another familiar name, but he is too smart to not notice how you tensed up for a second.

"I guess you know him too?"

"I uhm... I wouldn't mind learning some historically accurate information about him." You're certain that your cheeks are burning at this point, and you're relieved when he just settles for a small chuckle.

"Don't worry, I'll give you an overview about his life and influence on Japan. I need to make sure that someone who tries to steal my job and my last name knows about Toyotomi Hideyoshi."

"I'm not trying to steal anything here, just to make that clear." You shoot him a burning glare, but he doesn't mind it at all.

"I know at least two security guards who think otherwise."

You look at him blankly, and he returns your gaze with the same blank expression- until you both start laughing.

He has a pleasant laugh and voice- that's what you realize after your conversation with him so far. You're convinced that you could listen to him talking all day- maybe he should voice one of these audio guides?- and you find yourself even more attracted to this man, to his intellect and his wit.

A small group of men suddenly catches your attention though, and you slowly stop laughing- especially when they suddenly gesture towards the two of you-

"Oya oya, what's with that look on his face?"

"I've never seen Tsukishima smile like that- is that his girlfriend?"

"Oyy, Tsukki! You promised us a tour, didn't you?"

"Don't bother the other visitors, Bokuto-san."

You're stunned at the way Tsukishima immediately pales and tries to hide his face- that tall tree of a man with bright blonde hair trying to hide himself with a measly attempt like that?

"Do you know them?" You point towards the group, and he "tsks" and nods finally. "Yes. I didn't expect them so early though."

"Oy Tsukki, will you play with us later? It's been a while, I want to show you my new skills."

"What are you doing here?" Tsukishima's tone significantly changes compared to the way he has been talking to you. No more friendly and polite note, just annoyance and embarrassment.

"We told you we would come, didn't we, Tsukki?" A tall man with black hair and a lazy grin wraps an arm around Tsukishima and rubs his head, effectively messing with his blonde hair.

"And who is that young lady over here? Your girl?"

"Kuroo-san, you're embarrassing him." Another guy with glasses comes up to the front, quickly followed by a very energetically walking man with broad shoulders and white hair.

"Tsukki, introduce us to your girlfriend!" His smile is almost blinding, but you're too perplex after the sudden commotion to answer him- "We’re leaving." Tsukishima shrugs his shoulder until the tall guy lets him go, and you're stunned when Tsukishima suddenly wraps an arm around your shoulder and guides you a few steps away before he removes his arm quickly.

"I'm sorry for that."

He scratches the back of his head and avoids eye contact when he finally brought you out of their reach, clearly flustered by the unexpected situation he just found himself in. "It's fine." You reassure him and try to stay focused on him, and not on the way the guys started talking about the two of you way too loudly, the words "Tsukki's cute girlfriend" making their way too your ears way too often.

"These are... acquaintances from me. Don't mind them. They are fools sometimes."

"They seem nice actually. You should introduce me someday; you don't want to withhold your girlfriend from your friends after all." You attempt to joke to lighten up the situation, and he quickly glances towards you again, his glasses reflecting the white light from the lamp above when he does so.

"I thought you already had my last name? I feel like we skipped a few steps here."

Your cheeks heat up at his words, and you find yourself lost for a suitable reply, only for him to smile again. "Let's start with step one."

His left hand moves into his back pocket, and he fishes for his phone, handing it to you after quickly unlocking it- and you manage to get a short glimpse of his dinosaur background before he presses the contact button.

"I- Can you-" he bites the inside of his cheek- you start to believe that he's suppressing a hiss with that habit whenever he's irritated or doesn't know what to do- and you quickly save him before his cheek turns bloody at this point.

"I still need to learn more about Hideyoshi. If you promise to be my private guide next time too?" You reach for his phone and he willingly gives it to you, now suddenly lost for words. Tsukishima nods, silently watching you while you type in your number, and you read it three times to make sure it's correct before you hand it back to him.

"Here you go. Will you be here tomorrow too?"

"Yes. I'll be here till 5 pm. You can come whenever; I'll make time for you."

You smile at his words and walk towards the exit, shyly waving at the group of men that are still watching you both, and they happily wave back when they notice you leaving.

"See you tomorrow, Kei."

"See you tomorrow."

You finally turn but you don't miss the smile on his face though when he reads your contact’s name.

"Tsukishima y/n."

[sophiaidomovement11]

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