#grey shearling coat

[grimppleather]

MEN BOMBER JACKET B3 SHEARLING JACKET MEN GENUINE LEATHER COAT METALLIC GRAY COLOR

MATERIAL USE FOR METALLIC MENS GREY SHEARLING COAT

Applicable Season: Autumn And Winter Material: Shearling Applicable Scene: Shopping Style: Casual Hooded: No Thickness: Thick （Winter) Outerwear Type: Leather & Suede Clothing Length: Regular Type: Regular Gender: MEN Collar: Turn-down Collar Closure Type: zipper Sleeve Length(cm): Full

#bomberjacket #grey shearling coat #leather outfit #menswear #mens leather jackets

[be-my-ally]

I Feel The Earth Move

for the prompt: something weather related. (wow, a genius must have come up with that)

I, I don’t know how or when this turned into 5k (7k now), I truly don’t - take it from me, nothing happens in this fic, it is pure (somewhat domestic) fluff and smut. It’s also - well, this is probably the closest you could get to a peek inside my brain of my current favourite sleep/daydream fantasy - i.e it's just reader and elvis having a chat?

warnings: 18+, smut (of the gentle kind), slight body-negativity (from reader, about herself). Because this is fanfiction, suspend your disbelief and assume Elvis was allowed a day off during his November 1971 tour during which this fic takes place, and that Joyce isn’t available. Red being a bit of a dick. I change tenses about 12 times.

1971!Elvis x fem!reader – soft belly mentioned.

wc: 7.3k - idk enjoy my long descriptions of choosing pjs, and sitting around watching Elvis sit there.

(It's been so long since I posted a non-series fic, that I truly can't remember taglist info so here is a PSA to message me/comment if you want me to tag you in everything!)

Elvis had called you, unexpectedly, just a few days ago, to join him for the rest of the tour and though you’d found the whirlwind of movement and activity exciting you were already tired. You couldn’t imagine how Elvis himself must be feeling. So, you were grateful that you were stopping for a little while, even if it was just for the night. The town you’d ended up in wasn’t anything special, just a convenient stop-off for the brief rest before you all continued to the show the next night. The hours from the show the night before, and the following afternoon weren’t long enough of a break for anyone to go home and relax, but Elvis had been twitchy and anxious to do something else for the day, and you weren’t surprised to be told there was to be a new car delivered to the hotel to play around with.  

When the new, shiny, black car had pulled up outside the hotel you’d stood beside him at the window, nodding as he pointed out specific features, ooh and aahing at the right moments, even though, as far as you could tell it looked much the same as the others you’d seen him drive. But it made him happy and that was what mattered. Elvis had grinned at you and curled an arm around your waist, asking you oh so nicely if you wouldn’t like to go out for a ride with him in it. He’d had a long week, it was all getting a bit much - the tour, and the travelling and he just wanted to feel normal for an evening - you get that right? You’d readily agreed once he’d hitched your shirt up to brush his thumb against your skin and whispered he wanted it to just be the two of you. You would have agreed regardless, truthfully you would have agreed to anything he suggested after having had the call, so unexpectedly out of the blue, to come and spend a few days with him; you wanted to make the most out of every second.  

You soon live to regret that sentiment, however, as you hurry to the car with your arms wrapped around yourself. It’s freezing and, though it isn’t raining yet, the dark grey sky isn’t looking particularly friendly. Elvis starts to follow you down the motel steps after a few muttered words to the boys, but pauses for a moment - watching you rapidly trot to the car before disappearing back into one of the rooms. You watch, shivering from the passenger seat, hoping he won’t take too long when he appears a minute later, hurrying down the stairs himself, this time carrying a second of his coats - a short but thick suede and shearling jacket that he throws onto your lap before climbing in himself. He’s wearing a red suede coat that falls to his knees, and he’s forced to unbutton it to sit down in the car. He mutters to himself about it, as he stands back up before finally getting in and slamming the door shut. He glances over at you,  

“Look - get that on ya now, there we are - I’ll, I’ll turn the heat on in a mo, once we’ve got her running.”  

“Thank you,” You shoulder into the jacket gratefully, “I didn’t realise it was so cold.” He hums at you, twisting the ignition and sending the car purring to life. He grins at the engine noise, turning to look at you with boyish delight.  

“Alright then, honey, let me show ya what this can do.” You squeal as he takes off, and he laughs as you grab at the handle while he wildly turns the first corner, calming down a little himself once he was on the open road. He sings along to the radio, The Temptations are playing, Just My Imagination, and he hums along to the words he doesn’t know, singing the ones he does. It’s absurdly endearing and you’re momentarily breathless getting to watch and hear him like this. You have no idea where you are, too distracted with watching him than the passing scenery. He’s so pretty in the early evening light, happy and relaxed. He taps his hand on the wheel to the beat, moving his head, turning to sing to you. You smile, overwhelmed but not wanting to scare him off and unsure how to respond, but he clearly understands your facial expression and appreciation, offering his palm up on your thigh for you to hold.  

You drive in what feels like an endless combination of loops and “Which way looks exciting baby? You wanna go left or right here?” until, somehow, it’s been almost two hours and you were passing through a small town on the outskirts of the city, gaining more and more distance from the hotel. If you’d started to pay any attention to your surroundings you’d realise you were starting to recognise them.  

The storm starts slowly, just a little rain, a grey cloud here and there, and Elvis ignores it as he drives, laughing when he drives through a forming puddle and splashing up the water onto the windows. Simply turning his radio up higher in response to the worsening rain patter. You’re showing him your fully choreographed dance routine to I Feel the Earth Move, and he laughs at your wiggles and shakes while you giggle performing it, signalling to the sky and emphasising the ‘tumbling down’ lyric that matches the downpour picking up.  

Almost at once, as the rain increases in tempo, the car starts to slow, sputtering and shuddering to a halt. The radio keeps playing although you immediately reach out to turn it down,  

“Uh… what, what’s happened?” You have no clue about cars, but you’re hopeful Elvis might have some idea. Elvis growls, trying to turn the ignition again, the car sputters but refuses to start.  

“Fuck, fuck, just fuckin’ great man.” He slams his hands on the wheel in frustration, and you flinch, turning to look wide-eyed out into the rapidly darkening evening sky, stormy and intimidating, the rain falling into flowing streams down the road. Elvis tries again, yanking his glasses off like that might make a difference, but it just won’t start and though you really don’t want to annoy him any further, you have, while peering over at him, noticed something that might be related to your sudden lack of power.  

“Um, El, is - is that the gas blinking at you?” Elvis lifts his head up from the wheel, frowning at the fuel indicator. He swears again,  

“Fuckin’ piece of junk - it must be broken already! I swear, honey, it had a full tank when we left - didn’t, it gave me no ind’catshun it would do that.” He shakes his head, muttering about a hunk of junk new cars while the E continues to flash. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth,  

“Uh, well, at least we know what the problem is,” You rack your brain for a solution, “We’ll just have to get one of the guys to run us some gas!”  

“Yeah real smart idea, ‘cept we don’t have a phone.” You whirl around to look into the backseat but sure enough, no phone. “In the goddamn middle of nowhere,” He slaps the wheel again. You look out of the windows, realising with a start exactly where you were. You debate for a second if you should confess but the rain picks up again, hammering down even harder than before, and you realise you don’t have a choice. “Guess our only choice is to go knocking on some people’s doors.” He sighs, putting his head into his crossed arms on top of the wheel,  

“We-e-ell, not quite.” He rolls his head to peek at you,  

“What d’ya mean?” You blink at him,  

“Uh, my house is right around here. Just - just a little past that next corner.” Elvis sits fully upright, mouth agape, with a furrow forming in his brow,  

“Your house? Around that corner?” You nod, anxious that he’s about to be mad that you hadn’t told him. He side-eyes you suspiciously,  

“Thought you were from…uhhh, wasn’t it, uh, Louisville?”  

“Well - yes and no, that’s where I go to college - my parent’s house is right around that corner ‘s only about another, I don’t know - maybe a 20 minute walk?” Elvis looks at you a little strangely again, but after he looks up at the sky, he nods.  

“We’ll have to make a break for it I guess. Not quite how I planned the evenin’ - your folks be ok witchyou bringin’ me home?” You nod,  

“Course! And, well, they’re visiting my aunt at the moment up in Chicago anyway - she’s just had another baby.” He pauses looking at you questioningly,  

“And you didn’t wanna go? Don’t women like babies?” You roll your eyes,  

“God, no I didn’t want to go! What can they do at that age anyway?” He frowns like he’d wanted to protest your point, but then realises he can’t deny it’s true, “I’ll go and see her when she can stand and look at me - and, well, I, I, I had plans made by then anyhow.” He grins at you and pleased that he liked your plan you continue,  

“I can’t promise the fridge’ll be stocked, but there should be something we can eat in the pantry while we wait for the guys, and obviously we can use the phone -“ Elvis shakes his head, eyes bright,  

“Yep, needta tell ‘em where we are, wouldn’t want them sending out a search party but…” He makes a show of peering out of the window, leaning forward, “You know, I wouldn’t want to make any of ‘em come out in this.” You blink at him, it was a bad storm, sure, but it would be a push to call it undriveable, “I s’pose we may as well stay the night.” He pats your thigh and you stare at him for a second, processing, before nodding.  

“I suppose that does make an awful lot of sense. It wouldn’t be right for them to get stuck out here too…” 

“Be nice to spend the night alone with you, baby.” He winks, nodding at the door, “Whenever you’re ready, hon, lead the way, I’ll follow you.”  

You’re both soaked through by the time you reach the little front porch. Although your matching suede jackets had done the job of keeping some of the rain off, you had had still been out in the rain for a little too long - it had been a rapid walk, or slow jog for about fifteen minutes before you’d reached civilisation, frantically picking up the pace as thunder started to rumble overhead, for the last few minutes of dashing to your street. You scramble under the little decorative frog on the top step for the spare key, desperately hoping your mother hadn’t decided to move it while they were away. You hold it up triumphant, oblivious to the way the moonlight was reflecting off your blouse under Elvis’ open jacket, the rain making the white totally see through. Elvis grins at you encouragingly, and you open the door with a flourish, allowing you both to tumble into the empty house. You slam the door shut, leaning against it, dripping wet, to watch Elvis look around curiously and you anxiously begin to fill the silence. 

“Um, I don’t know what clothes I have here - but, I definitely have something and I’ll bring down something for you, uh, you’ll probably have to wear my father’s pyjamas, and he’s a touch bit bigger than you, but we have a dryer!”  

“Thank you sweetheart, that’s mighty kind of you -“  

“So, I can get your clothes dried for you.” Elvis is looking at you with bemusement, and you can feel yourself rambling, and you force yourself to take a breath before continuing, “I’ll have to check if daddy’s left the water on - we might have to make do without a shower, but I’ve got plenty of blankets to warm us up instead.”  

“Sounds great - I’m sure that’ll -“  

“So if you just -“ you gesture to the kitchen doorway, “-I won’t be a minute, help yourself to anything you like. The phone’s just on the wall there if you wanna call the hotel.” You sprint up the stairs, furious with yourself for the rising panic you were starting to feel - what were you thinking. You were an adult, you could cope with this. You could deal with Elvis Presley. In your house. With nothing prepared.  

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down, trying to think straight, right. First things first, you head into your parent’s room, quickly finding an inoffensive pair of button down pyjamas for Elvis to wear, and you’re about to take them down the stairs when you’re suddenly made aware of the sticking sensation of your wet skirt to your legs - Elvis must be soaked through too, so you detour to the bathroom to fetch him a towel, shouting down to him, 

“El! Here ya go!” He appears at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at you with some amusement, as he tries to catch your particularly terrible throw. Clearly he doesn’t normally have his clothes thrown at him from above and it makes you laugh watching him flounder on the opposite side of his stage scarf dynamic for once.  

“ ‘re you not coming down, baby?”  

“Um, I’ll be down in just a second! Just leave your stuff on the table and I’ll run it down to the dryer in a bit!”  

“Uh, well, sure thing, honey, thank you.” A moment or so later you can hear the clinking of what hopefully wasn’t too many firearms in your house as he gets undressed and then his murmuring voice as he speaks to someone on the phone.  

You really didn’t have much by way of clothes still in this house, and even less that you would consider acceptable to wear with Elvis Presley in the room. You stare into your drawer for a little too long, willing for another choice to appear. Such magic powers are, apparently, beyond you however so there’s just the two options; a little chiffon babydoll set you’d left behind because it was now pretty much indecent, or a gingham flannelette set complete with embroidered teddy bear on the pocket. On the one hand the little babydoll set was pretty cute, but you were also freezing and warm cotton sounded appealing to your damp skin - but was being so bundled up really the image you wanted to give off to Elvis? He’d never seen you in anything but your very, very, carefully chosen outfits. You start to unbutton your shirt, determined you’d just have to freeze for the sake of fashion but as soon as the cool breeze hits your damp skin you change your mind, rapidly rubbing yourself down with a towel and changing into the snug flannelette of your winter pyjamas. When you come bouncing down the stairs he’s stood waiting for you, and you pause near the bottom, suddenly uncertain. He grins at you, reaching up to lift you down the last step, placing you right in front of him.  

He’s taken his glasses off, tucked them into the breast pocket of the shirt, and clearly had been trying to tame his wet, lightly curling hair, into some semblance of order, the newly long shagginess pushed back against his ears. The borrowed PJs swamp his frame, Elvis is far slimmer than your father, and when you look him over you have to stifle a giggle. The pants ending about two inches too short and stopping far above his delicate ankles and bare feet. He looks down at them himself, following your eyes, and where at home he might have been self-conscious, here he takes it in his stride, smiling back at you with his eyes sparkling.  

“Think I oughta wear this on stage?” He points his toes and you giggle, shaking your head, and gesture to the living room.  

“I don’t know... I think we’d make a good looking pair.” You pose with your hands on your hips, blowing him a kiss,  

“Uh-huh, sure, ‘specially with your lil’ bear there.” He flicks at the pocket on your chest and you blush,  

“They’re warm!” He grins, pushing back his hair,  

“They sure look it, you look snug as a bug.” He grabs your waist, pulling you into him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and you melt into his hold for a moment, before he pulls away, peering into the living room. You gesture,  

“Feel free to sit anywhere.” Elvis looks around before walking over and settling in the armchair, resting his ankle on his knee. You anxiously consider your options before settling onto the couch, feeling silly for being nervous in your own home. It’s silent for a moment, well, somewhat - Elvis humming to himself as he continues to look around - assessing the bookshelves, before he finally speaks up;  

“Don’t suppose you have any smokes ‘round here?” You shake your head apologetically,  

“No - My da-” Before you suddenly remember that you do, and go running off up the stairs, hoping you were right. You come sliding back down, socks slipping on the stairs much to Elvis’ amusement as you come racing back in, but he says nothing and gratefully accepts a proffered cigarette from the box you hold out.  

“Sorry, daddy doesn’t have any cigars - he doesn’t smoke.” You add on, as if otherwise you might have been embarrassed at not having any to offer. He shrugs,  

“S’ok, I don’t mind.” You go to put the box away and he shakes his head,  

“Jus leave it there - s’alright? Don’t of’fen smoke ‘em now-a-days but when I do, I uh, I’ll have a few.” He pauses as if remembering his manners, “If that’s alright?”  

“Oh of course - by all means.” You hand it back to him, sinking back down into the couch. He leans back, the picture of ease, studying you, a glint in his eye,  

“They your mama’s? I’ll replace ‘em.”  

“Oh no, she doesn’t either,” 

“You forget where you’d hidden them or somethin’?”  He says it delicately, and you can feel him teasing you - like he already knows. You inwardly cringe in embarrassment,  

“Uh, well, my parents didn’t like me to smoke - neither of them do, they’re not - they’re from before I went away, obviously, they were in my dresser still.” He grins at your bashfulness,   

“Sensible. I wouldn’t let my little gal smoke none either.” He offers you the box, and you shake your head at his gall at offering you your own belongings, but still take one, letting him light it for you. You sit for a moment, but the silence drags, and it gets all too much for you all too fast. You get up to turn on the television, but the signal keeps dropping no matter what you try to do, and eventually Elvis says,  

“Oh, look honey, just give it up - you gotta have somethin’ else we can put on? Look there’s your records over there,” He points to the player on the sideboard, and you readily agree. He sighs, pushing up to his feet and coming to stand next to you, crouching down to cast a judgemental eye over the collection. He pats your shoulder, pointing to what he wanted on, and you immediately obey.  

You sit back down, just for a second, before you realise you were starving. “Are you hungry?” You don’t even give Elvis the possibility to respond before you continue, “Sorry, silly question - I won’t be a minute, I’ll see what I can come up with.” You disappear, rummaging through the cupboards to compile as much of a meal as possible,  

“Well, there’s not much…” You bring in the tray, “But there’s pop-tarts!” Elvis looked it over, laughing -  

“Jeez honey, you got anything not rolled in sugar?” You blush,  

“Well sure but, it’s - I’m not a great cook Elvis,” He laughs, reaching over to grab a handful from the nuts you’d found, “Besides - there’s really not much here.”  

“Nah, nah, this is great honey, truly, great.”  You hand him a cup of hot cocoa, and he’s just as pleased with that as with his tray of exceedingly random snacks, and you settle on the floor by his feet with a deck of cards. He plays with your hair as you shuffle, swearing as the intimate moment is wrecked by your yelp at the strands catching on his chunky ring.  

Once you’re untangled you suggest gin, and you play for a couple of rounds, putting up with Elvis somehow winning every time before he sighs as if bored, picking up a book your father had left on the side. He opens it up, glancing at the pages, nodding in pleasure,  

He whistles, “Whoo, boy, your daddy’s got good taste - c’mon up here and I’ll read to you, baby.” You scramble up to clamber onto his lap, squealing as he tugs you onto him more than the chair, tucking your feet into the crease of the cushion and the arm and situating you into a comfortable position. You glance at the cover, internally groaning, it’s a WWII history, and you’d really rather not at this time of the night, but it’s harmless enough to let him drone on above you, his delicate cadence and deepening voice gentle on your ears. You don’t realise you’ve drifted off until he nudges you,  

“You’re not paying attention.” You wiggle your toes, yawning,  

“Sorry, sorry I am, ‘m just warm.” He snorts,  

“You were snoring,” You blush,  

“I don’t snore,” Elvis pokes your side as he laughs, nodding his head at you,  

“Oh, sure you do.” You frown - about to protest some more but he cuts you off before you can, “I think, I’ve gotta leave for the show in, uh, ‘bout eight hours, so prolly need to get some sleep.” It had gotten quite late, and while you wouldn’t admit to snoring, you had been asleep, so you readily agree.  

You hadn’t really thought about the sleeping arrangement past taking him up the stairs with you, just assuming you’d be in together - like you were at Graceland, or in the hotel but stood in the doorway of your bedroom with Elvis now you weren’t so sure. You have no idea what it is about your teenage bedroom making you feel nervous again, you’re an adult - you’ve spent more than enough nights in Elvis’ bed and yet for some reason you feel like you’re sixteen again, nervously sneaking a boy upstairs.  

He peers around you to investigate the room, assessing the floral wallpaper and curtains. He brushes past you to take a closer look, turning in a circle. You watch his brow furrow as his eyes land on the glossy magazine pages surrounding your mirror. It’s as if he can’t stop himself, nodding with self satisfaction as he puts the image of George Harrison face down onto your dressing table. He doesn’t seem to have the same issue with the images of his younger self. 

“Uh well, here we are. I guess if you have in here, I’ll go downstairs - or, I’ll go into my parents room.” He whirls around at your suggestion,  

“No, no, wanna stay with my girl in her bed, y’can’t leave me all on my lonesome inna new place; I might sleepwalk right outta here!” You shake your head, tummy flipping, even as you smile at his vehemence.  

“Well sure, but,” You gesture to the bed, “I forgot about this.” He frowns looking over at your pink, ruffled bed.  

“Forgot about what? ‘S not got clean sheets or something, honey?”  

“No, No, of course they’re clean!” Elvis smirks at your immediate outrage, “It’s just it’ll be uh…cosy. I forgot how small the - well, it’s not quite a full” You brace yourself for a second after you say it, forgetting that you’re not on the road with the boys at the moment, you’re in your home and he knows that. Knows that even if the situation would have normally caused him to pitch a fit he wouldn’t here. Here and now he’ll be on his best behaviour, and if you accuse him of acting any differently he’d deny it with a twinkle in his eye. You imagine how ridiculously polite he would be had your parents been home; “Why, this must be your sister! Thank you for having me over, I know it’s a real impo’sitshun.” and “Yes ma’am, you have a lovely home.” all, “No ma’am I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.” and of course why yes, he is a good southern boy. Although, if they had been, he probably wouldn’t be squeezing into your bed with you. Still that was probably unfair, he really had been on his absolute best behaviour all evening.  

“Cozy is a-ok with me, baby, y’don’t mind me getting real close do ya now?” He takes a step closer to the bed, patting the covers.  

“No, no but I - you’re used to, god your bed must be four times this - are you going to be able to sleep?” You ask, concerned, and he shrugs,  

“Prolly not - truth be told, but I don’t have my med’cation either. Hadn’t expected to be out very long.” Oh, of course. You frown continuing,  

“Oh - maybe it would be better then if we split up - it probably is too small for the both of us.” He shakes his head,  

“No, no, come sit over here now, listen here and I’ll tell you somethin’.” He pats the bed and you perch onto the side of it, watching him talk, “When I was little - just you know,” he gestures to his knees to indicate his height, “Momma an’ I used to share a bed that I’m pos-i-tive was small’r than this one.” He sits down next to you, leaning back on an arm to better look over it.  

“With your Mama?”  

“Yeah, yeah, we were - lord, we were poor as anythin’ and we just didn’t have no spare money for beds or, anything- and the like; while daddy was away ‘specially.” You didn’t know any of this,  

“Oh. That must have been hard.” It’s hard to imagine him as anything less than the expensive, gaudy, generous man in front of you. But then, it does make sense - no-one who’s that giving comes from money. 

“Well, you see, I s’pose I didn’t know any different - and I love my mother, I really do - did. That’s why I bought ma house, well, why I did everythin’ I suppose - it t’was all for her really.”  

“Oh - that’s, that’s really lovely Elvis.” He nods, a little sadly, shrugging,  

“Yeah, well, never mind. I know ‘s a little weird, but it weren’t anythin-” You interrupt his bashful commentary, hating the idea that this totally natural behaviour might be something he feels bad about.  

“I was 12 before I could fall asleep by myself - my mom had to lay with me, or daddy hadta read to me - so you know I don’t think that’s weird at all El, ‘specially if you didn’t have room.”  

“Yeah well, I was prolly a little too old by the time we could ‘ford a second bed, but it’s just like what you say - it weren’t anything strange.” You nod, pleased he seems less embarrassed. And wasn’t that just a wild thought - that Elvis might be the one embarrassed in your childhood bedroom.  

“Well, in any case, there’s no point being uncomfortable - maybe we should…maybe we should try my parents room?” Elvis shudders,  

“Sorry doll nothing ‘gainst your folks, but uh I don’t much like the idea of bein’ uninvited into someone’s bed…” You nod, standing back up and starting to tug down the sheets,  

“Well then, let’s give this a go…I’ll just go fetch the spare pillows.” He looks over at you incredulously,  

“Honey, you can’t possibly think we need more pillows?” He gestures to the overstuffed bed, “I’m not even sure how you fit in there with all of them!” You giggle,  

“I do!” You start to pull off the decorative ones, “Not these ones though - I don’t sleep with these, or those.” You point to the others, and he shakes his head as he joins you in throwing them onto the floor, leaving just the main pillows at the top. It still left five pillows though and Elvis shakes his head,  

“You got an itty-bitty bed and enough cushions for ten!” You laugh, defending yourself,  

“I just like to be cocooned!” You wriggle, as if imitating being wrapped up, and he laughs back at you, eyes crinkling as he watches you.  

“Cocooned! Well, you won’t need them tonight, can just sit’ate your bitty self right by me.” You smile, and he settles the nerves that were starting to swirl in your tummy as you’d continued to prepare the bed for both of you. “Seriously though - how’d you fit all these in?” He stands back, hands on his hips trying to picture your usual sleeping arrangement.  

“Well, I normally sleep on that one there, and then those two go on either side, and that one goes ‘tween my legs.” Elvis waggles an eyebrow, before placing the pillow you’d gestured to atop ‘his’ side of the bed.  

“Oh! and a friend!” As you tossed another cushion to the floor, the stuffed bunny tucked between the pillows had gone flying, you flush red at the sudden swirl of guilt as you watch Clarissa hit the floor, “Who’s this?” You force yourself to be nonchalant,  

“Oh Elvis - don’t tease me.”  

“I’m not teasin’ honey, you tryin’ tell me it’s not got a name?” He picks her up,  

“El, she’s no-one.” You shake your head,  

“Aha! A girl bunny!” He holds her aloft, “She’s mighty cute!”  

“Really - El, I don’t know how she got there again.” He sighs, tucking her under his own arm, whispering to her,  

“She’s gonna let you sleep out in the cold, yeah-huh, you’re right, it’s not right. You jus’ wanna be warm and fuzzy too don’t ya.” Though your tummy clenches at his teasing, the way he continues to have her tucked into his armpit, carefully placing her into the bed when you climb in and tucking her back into his chest makes you feel some soft sort of way. You climb in too, a little tense at first. It’s not like you’re unused to sleeping next to him, but there’s usually just a few minutes of cuddling before he rolls away across the vast expanse of mattress. But today he holds you close, arm wrapped around - your face smushed to his chest, it’s a little strange, the combination of him smelling like your home and him. Not that he has a choice but to hold you close - if either of you tried to roll away, you’d go clear off the side of the bed.  

“Goodnight Elvis,” You whisper, and he whispers it back to you, tucking his chin over your head. You try to settle your breathing, anxious to fall asleep as you feel his own breathing deepen as he settles in. He makes a little tutting noise a couple of times, and you worry you’re encroaching on his space, so you inch away, clinging onto the edge of the mattress.  

“Where y’going baby?” He mutters into your ear, “C’mon back here.” He rolls you into him,  

“Don’t wanna smother you.” He huffs a laugh, smoothing down your hair,  

“Wanna be smothered by you.” He settles with a happy hum, kissing your head again, and you relax your breathing, trying to will yourself to sleep.  

The way you’re tucked against him means every movement feels exaggerated, so when, a minute later he starts to kick his legs down you’re forced to just put up with the motion for a few moments - until it becomes a bit more vigorous;  

“El - stop.” He doesn’t stop, continuing to kick at the bedding. “Elvis! You’re kicking all the blankets off of me.” The motion ceases, but less because of anything you said and more because he’s succeeded in shoving the sheets to the bottom of the bed. He throws himself back, laying there on his back and dramatically panting as if in relief at the temperature change. You shudder in the chilly air, “Elvis! You can’t possibly be too hot, it’s - it’s practically freezing out there!”  

“You know I like it cool, hon.” You frown, tucking your knees up,  

“Well yeah? But I’m freezing!” He rolls his eyes, but tugs the sheets back over you, leaving one of his legs out.  

“There we are see, just cuz ‘m a gentleman.” He tugs you back to him, “Now, stop ya yabberin’ on and let me get some sleep.” You gasp in outrage -  

“Stop yabberin’!! It was you! You were the - “ Elvis hushes you, play snoring in your ear, and you snort back at him, settling with your back against his chest. You’re starting to drift off a little, not quite there, but not truly awake either, when his hand, that had been gently stroking your shoulder moves down to your waist. He snuffles a kiss against your shoulder, pushing the collar of your pyjamas down. Your eyes fly open,  

“Oh!” He hums behind you, pulling you closer and curling his arm across your abdomen. He mutters against your skin, whispering into your ear,  

“You gotta be all riled up, baby - I sure am, can hardly stand it, lying here all close to you.” He’s breathy on the hard consonants, breath tickling your skin,”Just need you, honey, need you real bad.” Whether it was intentional or not it sends shivers of arousal down your spine, tummy flipping as the heat begins to pool. His hand toys with the bow on your waistband, “Bet you’re close unner there, huh? Bet you’re right and ready for me,”  

“I’m - I’m…” You can’t think of anything past stuttering at him, but it doesn’t seem to bother him, and he moves his fingers to unbutton your shirt. It falls open, and he leans back just enough to pull it off - you allow him, docile as a doll and he returns to hug you, kissing your now naked back. 

“Gonna warm you up now, don’t you go worryin’ bout that, get you all nice and hot.” You wriggle against him, unsure what to do with your hands besides clasp at the sheets, “Mmhmm, that’s right baby, bet you’re all slippery already honey, aren’t you?” You gasp,  

“I think - I think so Elvis, god you’ve gotta touch me properly,” He giggles, slipping a hand into your cotton trousers. He brushes over the wiry hair there, gently twisting a curl with his finger. Stroking down, he rubs you with a single fingertip, between the seam of the trousers and your skin, and you rock into him, “El-Elvis, I swear, I’m good to go,” You can feel his smile against your skin,  

“Uh-huh, sure are, aren’t you? Feels like satin down here, you got satin skin baby?” You gasp at how his fingers dance over you,  

“What-whatever you say!” Elvis’ fingertips aren’t satin smooth against you, a gentle rough edge that cuts through the slipperiness of your slick folds enough to make your eyes flutter closed. He withdraws his other hand from where it had been curled around your shoulder, and a moment later you feel him against your back, tugging down his trousers and letting his already hard cock pop out. He rubs against you, almost as if inadvertently, and you arch your back with a moan, he wiggles himself down to better position himself, the whole while still gently petting you. 

Your eyes re-open as he growls, pulling his hand out and away to rapidly tug down your bottoms, letting you kick them off to the bottom of the bed, before clutching at you and tugging you even closer. You lock gaze with the judgemental beads of Clarissa and gasp out a giggle before reaching out to knock her flying to the floor,  

“I can’t - not with her watching.” Elvis laughs, the sound mixing into a groan as he presses into you. You’re wet enough for him to slide in, and the angle is gentle enough that you feel just the slightest hint of a stretch while he snugly fits in, rocking into you further and further.  

It’s not a position you’re usually in, and though he can’t really see you, you feel more self-conscious than you have with him before. Elvis’ hands rove over your stomach, and you’re unable to pull his arm up like you usually would, and instead his fingers are playing around the little overhang of your belly, brushing a finger on the sensitive skin there. “So soft doll, you’re like a little baby - so goddamn soft, I could, could just sink right into ya.” You gasp, it’s so antithetical to what you expected him to say,  

“Oh,” He hushes you, stroking your stomach again,  

“Lis’en to me, ‘m so lucky, honey,” You make a noise of agreement, “So lucky, you’re so goddamn pretty, y’hear?” Your leg moves of its own accord, up a little, giving him a little extra wiggle room that he quickly takes advantage of, continuing to rock into you. His hand on your stomach has slid down to stroke the crease of your thigh, reaching around to rub at your clit, and he leans down to kiss your shoulder and neck. You don’t expect it, enjoying the intimacy enough that you didn’t really care if you achieved it, but the feel of his lips on your neck, the speed of his hand, the rocking deep into you is all enough to cause your thighs  to clench, fists gripping the sheets as you ride out the shakes of a gentle orgasm.  

Elvis follows momentarily later. He stays where he is, curled around you, slowly slipping out his softening cock, breathily heavily against your back, his hand still stroking you even as he moves his arm to rest upon your stomach. His touch briefly disappears for a moment to swipe clumsily at you with your own trousers, and with the motion you find yourself suddenly bursting into overwhelmed tears. He immediately rolls you over to look at him,  

“Oh no, baby, what’s’a matter?” His eyes crinkle at you, “C’mon now, ‘nough of that,'' He wipes the tear tracks away with a thumb and you gulp at him, breath hitching as you find yourself unable to stop, “You’re too pretty to make yourself all red,'' He changes tact, attempting the stern tone that sometimes seems to work on the audiences. “C’mon, stop it now, take it easy.” He sighs, pressing a kiss to your cheek when you can’t stop yourself.  

“I’m,” Your voice wavers, “sorry - I don’t, don’t know - I’m so-“ He cuts you off, tugging you closer to him,  

“Alright, alright, you just stay there, just let it out, that’s it, c’mere, go on, I don’t mind.” He tucks you into his chest, “Shh, shh, didn’t meanta make you cry, honey - it’s alright.” He soothes, large palm stroking your back until you calm down into sniffles. God how embarrassing, you feel stupid for it - how silly can a girl be?  

“Oh nah, now, not silly, honey, ‘s just, just the effect I have on the girls I reckon, god knows why, but seems to be the case.” You hadn’t realised you’d said it aloud and you let out a watery giggle against the soft fuzz of his chest. “C’mon now, curl in and let’s go to sleep,” He shifts a little, to make it easier for you to practically lie on top of him, he tugs the covers around you, effectively tucking you in, shushing you when you start to sniffle again, before you drift off to the sound of his steady heartbeat.  

You awake with a start, the phone ringing insistently. You quickly realise, though, that it wasn’t the phone that had awoken you, but Elvis shouting on his back for,  

“Daddy!! God I swear, Charlie!! I swear to god man, I swear to god. Someone shut that damn phone up ‘fore I shoot the goddamn thing off the wall!” His eyes are still closed even as he roars out the order and you can’t help, now that your heart has stopped racing, but laugh at him. He sits bolt upright at the sound of your giggle, blinking in the daylight,  

“El - El, it’s my phone - you can’t go round shooting other people’s houses.” He flops back, just as dramatically as last night, patting at your thigh and back,  

“Oh lord… they’ll be wantin’ somethin’ offa me - go on then little’un - go see what they want.” The phone stops for a second, and you look over at the clock on your bedside, 12:04. 

“They’re probably going to say we’re late.”  

“Late? Nah, barely, barely slept, got plenty of time.” You throw the alarm clock at him as the phone starts up again and, grabbing your robe from the door on the way, you start to head down to answer it, leaving him swearing behind you. 

You regret picking it up, almost immediately being shouted at from the guys on the other end of the line. Whoever had been the one calling had been pleasant enough, for the brief “Hello” you’d been allowed before the receiver had been taken over by Red and you were now near tears again at the way you’re being spoken to, told off, and degraded for keeping him out. As if it were entirely your idea, and how you can forget about accompanying him on the rest of the tour. You were, according to Red, a goddamn liability - the monologue had just turned into questioning your motives, suggesting you were heading to the tabloids any minute when the phone was plucked out from your hands. You’d failed to notice, in the haze of trying to absently defend yourself, Elvis coming down the stairs.  

“You talk to all my girls like that?” As much as you enjoy his angry tone, you didn’t love being reminded in that moment that you were probably one of many. Still, his furious expression made your heart feel like it was pounding out of your chest, a deep glow emanating. There’s silence, then, “Whatever, man, I’ll talk to you ‘bout it later, not got time right now - ‘s the car ready? Gonna be late for this show else, Colonel’ll have my ass I swear, if that car ain’t out there -“ He pauses, “Well, why the hell not? Thought you’d have been - right, okay, well that’s what it’ll have to be - just get it out here in twenty.” He hangs up the phone without a goodbye, immediately turning to you and cupping your cheeks in his hands as he kisses you. “Pay him no mind, he don’t know what he’s talkin’ ‘bout.” You nod,  

“Ok, but Elvis - you know I would never; that’s not what I’m - “ He shakes his head,  

“I know, I told you - don’t listen to a word he says.”  You do your best, even as it reverberates around your head as you collect up your clothes from the dryer, watching Elvis redress. You wonder if you should go with him, where you’re so clearly unwanted, and though he doesn’t say anything you can tell Elvis thinks you’re being weirdly quiet. It’s barely any time at all before the car outside honks, and it’s time to leave. You make the last minute decision that you’ll see him to the car, but stay behind, but as if he can read your mind, after he climbs into the car Elvis turns to look back at you, 

“You’re comin’ too, baby, right?” He holds out an arm, and despite feeling the glare from the guys in the car, you grab onto it - your desire to stay with him outweighing any worries.  

taglist:

 @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @thatbanditquee @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @powerofelvis @shakerattlescroll @dkayfixates @18lkpeters @literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis smut #be-my-ally #elvis x oc #elvis x reader #elvis x you #writing prompt game

[alektohuj]

GhostRoachSoap Headcanons

Clothing choices? But I have serious fashion problems.

Ghost wears plain t-shirts and hoodies. They're usually in dark colours (blue,black,grey) but you can also see some fun shirts that Soap and Roach bought for him.(He can't steel their clothes because he's to big). Black jeans or grey sweatpants. And you know those brown leather (?) jackets (the ones that look like they belong to pilots), he has one and it's also his winter jacket. Black and white socks and boxers.

Soap also mostly wears plain t-shirts but has some with prints on them.(Definitely has one with a Scottish flag). Steels hoodies from both Ghost and Roach, he looks like he's drowning in them. Black leather jacket or bomber jacket. Cargo pants in khaki, black and blue (jean blue) or tight jeans . Funky socks but most of them have holes in them. Creeper boxers.

Roach has shirts with bug related things on them and very few are plain. Also steels hoodies from Ghost and Soap. Ton shit of flannels with funny prints. Shearling coat because he likes the fuzzy inside of it. Sweatpants or cargo pants in black and blue. Fuzzy socks with animals, no plain ones. Doesn't buy his own socks (Soap is the one buying and choosing them). Red boxers.

And bags because why not.

Ghost doesn't carry a lot around so no bag. He keeps his thing neatly in his jacket.

Soap also doesn't have a bag but his thing are chaotic in his pants and jacket. Sometimes he has a back pack and he keeps it clean.

Roach has a messenger bag. Clean and neat. Same as his jacket pockets .

A lot of those things are self inserts. I will cry if I have a dirty bag but my pockets are chaotic. I want creeper boxers.

#ghostroachsoap #ghostsoap #ghostroach #roachghost #roachsoap #soapghost #soaproach #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #john soap mactavish #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod headcanons

[gyuhanniescarat]

24 to 25

»»———- day 1 of jess’s 12 days of christmas———-««

pairing: boyfriend!felix x gn!reader

genre: fluff. really really really fluffy

word count: 1.5k and some change

synopsis: just when felix thought he couldn’t possibly fall more in love with you, you only make him fall harder. 

fluff prompt no.6 “You look adorable covered in snow.”

request: yes; for my 12 days of christmas event

notes: sweeter than the sweetest treat, cavity-inducing fluff. akin to hallmark christmas movie level sweetness. established relationship, non-gendered pet names (reader calls felix ‘babe’ and felix calls reader ‘baby’). I am not australian so I don’t have experience with christmas in australia nor do I know his childhood experiences with snow, so inaccuracies may be present. header made/edited by me, please don't remove my watermark from the photo. 

»»———- thank you to my darling @whatudowhennooneseesyou for your request. writing this felix drabble was a journey for me as I made myself an emotional mess deep in the feels multiple times, *I am in love with lee felix 🥺❤️ okay, moving on* and since this is my FIRST EVER STRAY KIDS piece. 

yes, this is a work of fluff. However, I am predominantly an nsfw blog. minors can interact with this piece, but be aware that fluff is NOT my main genre. 

A dazzling, mystical wonderland. Smooth, thick blankets of white coat the spindly, barren branches of each hefty tree trunk. Mountain tops are covered in heaps of snow. 

The pillowy, knee-deep billows sprawl across the vast acres of land as the blizzard continues to rage outside. It is the winter scene of dreams and those cheesy, cliché brimming holiday-centered films and broadcast specials ingrained in the traditions of the season. The kind of picturesque, fairytale-like sequence which has deeply cemented its presence within the subconscious minds and hearts of generations of mankind. 

Having been born in a suburb of Sydney, and living a good part of his life in Australia, experiencing that “white christmas” winter wonderland is just one of those little things Felix hasn’t had all that many opportunities to partake in. One of the memorable times witnessing the well-hyped velvety, snowy splendor came during a trip he took with his members to the city of Busan. The video of a slightly younger, light brown-haired Felix, dressed in a black and grey hooded sweater, red and black plaid flannel, and black puffer coat ever present within your brain’s vault of thoughts since the moment you saw it all those years ago.  

Had anyone said to you that 4 years after the aforementioned video was filmed and shared to social media you would be spending the winter season with the cute aussie boy seen in that clip, you surely would have believed you were the punchline of a cruel practical joke. Yet, here you are… dating and passionately in love, preparing to spend what is hopefully the first of many more holiday seasons to come with that very cute, sexy aussie himself. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Finally arriving at the chalet your parents rented for the weekend, after a long and slightly worrisome drive that had taken you and Felix along some rather treacherous mountain roads, the initial thought you have is to take a little stroll and get some circulation flowing back throughout your lower limbs. Straight upon taking in the astounding view of the property where you guys will be celebrating your first christmas together, Felix finds himself in a state of shock and incredulity. His thoughts swirl as the sound of his rapidly beating heart registers in his ears, causing him to fear that you could hear it too. Certainly, he hadn’t expected to feel the wide range of emotional changes happening inside him at this moment. 

Winter has always been your favorite season, your favorite time of the year really. There’s just something about dressing up in a cute faux shearling lounge set or festive pajamas with fuzzy socks during the chillier months that feels so rewarding and just hits particularly different. But it’s not just the cute sets and the festive sleepwear that make wintertime special. It’s also there in the idea of grabbing a heavy-knit blanket, cozying up, and wrapping yourselves in the warm quilt. It’s in sitting by a crackling fire, toasting your toes by the fire. Or it’s even found in cuddlin’ tight while sipping on a warm cup of cocoa, that’s actually more like 50% cocoa and 50% whipped cream, marshmallows, sprinkles, and chocolate syrup. It shows in baking winter-themed cookies and having hours-long marathons of the holiday classics and the new holiday releases. 

Sharing those special winter moments, doing traditional activities, and making a new batch of memories that exists between only you and your special person is something that your younger self always wished for every single year since you were old enough to grasp the concept of love. And now that you have entered this period of life where you are deemed an acceptable age to love and be loved, all those special moments that the younger you had envisioned for your future self are finally coming to fruition. You have found your special person. Your dream partner. Felix is that special person, that dream partner. And this winter season is just the beginning. You and Felix have a whole lifetime to fill with sharing special moments, and your fonded familial or cultural holiday traditions. And with this new forever, the two of you have many years to fuse those fonded traditions into a beautiful marriage of your holiday festivities with Felix’s australian and korean winter festivities. 

Winter also tends to bring out your childlike traits and behaviors that being an adult and contributing member of the greater society requires you to suppress and conceal. These innate traits had been something you felt deeper self-consciousness towards as you aged from an adolescent to a teen and over time to a young adult. While you let self-consciousness delegate your image and run you, Felix sincerely wishes you would embrace the childlike side of yours. Honestly, that’s part of what drew him to you. Being involved in the world of music and the entertainment industry, an industry where public image is everything and if you don’t have the “right” image, you just might lose it all is burdensome. The rigorous trainee life he had endured in order to reach the dream of debut and the ever-so-prohibitive daily schedules, all the rules; the infinite do’s and the don’ts that come with the highly coveted territory of idol life… Felix was starting to grow fatigued by his life. As he found himself beginning to question his path and what he wanted out of his life, the universe had graciously gifted him with what would become his biggest blessing. The universe and the heavens aligned to cause your paths to cross one another.

 ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Allowing your guardedness to waver and indulging in the bubbly exuberance as your heart bursts with glee at the simplistic beauty of the earth in its dormant period. Felix and you have just arrived at the brink of sunset. The snow shows no signs of melting and a cold mist sprawls across the darkening winter sky. You can feel the crunch of snow beneath your feet and the cold bite of snow hitting your cheeks. Sticking your gloved hands out in front of you, you look up towards the orange, pink, and purple hues of the twilight sky. Delicate snowflakes and balls of cottony white gently fall from the sky before melting on your palm and blanketing the earth in plump billows.

The radiant glow and soft smile on your face despite the bitter breeze penetrating your limbs bring warmth to Felix’s heart. Just when he thought he couldn’t, you at this moment have proved that Felix can indeed fall more in love with you. In fact, he believes that the love he has for you will only grow deeper over every moment of the rest of his life. The only logical form of response his heart and mind can agree on as he continues to watch you frolic and dance about in the darkening wintery night is to verbalize the joy, love, and warmth he feels through the form of a bright, infectious chuckle. Hearing Felix’s laugh is always healing for you. It’s one of his traits you love the most. You will forever be endeared by the way Felix’s laugh has remained the same throughout the years.

Upon hearing the sound of your boyfriend’s laughter, you become perplexed and try to distinguish what exact factor about the occurring events and your surroundings had compelled him to express himself via laughter. Sticking your freezing hands back into the pockets of your puffer coat, you turn to look at Felix with a quizzing expression. Confused at your reaction, he nervously gulps as his cheeks flush crimson. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets and rocking in back-and-forth motions on his feet, he tries to speak but his nerves go rampant. An infectious and affectionate grin spreads across your face as you finally truly lay eyes on your lover. “What? What is it, babe? Is something funny or wrong? Why are you laughing, Lixie?” You ask utter confusion setting into your ethereal features. To ease your concern and worry, Felix removes his hands from his pockets and inches closer to you. Then he reaches into your coat pockets and takes hold of your hands, unleashing them from your sides. With your hands now resting in between you two, he intertwines your hands and kisses your left hand through the glove.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby. I- ii-it’s… It’s just that I can’t believe how lucky I am to call you mine. And You look adorable covered in snow.”

Your heart swells with love for the blonde-haired, freckled man whos currently feeling the bone-deep chill of the christmas eve air. How on earth you were the lucky person to love and be loved by the one and only Lee Felix is beyond you, but you thank your lucky stars and the universe for letting you find him. “Yah! I wasn’t trying to get covered in snow. But if anything, the lucky one here is me. I love you, Felix.” You softly reply, eyes sparkling as you look into Felix’s eyes. “I love you too, baby. Thank you for being by my side. This right here, holding you in my arms, is the only present I need.” Felix says, pulling you in close and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

© gyuhanniescarat | 2022 - all rights reserved. Reposting/Modifying of any fic, scenario, drabble, reaction or piece of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

#jess's 12 days of christmas #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #felix fluff #skz felix fluff #stray kids fanfic #skz felix x reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #felix x reader #felix x you #stray kids #stray kids felix #lee felix #stray kids au #lee felix fluff #lee felix fanfic #gyuhannies 100 followers celebration 🥳 #gyuhannie writes #gyuhannie.txt

[luxappareluk]

Take a Look and Get the LOOK. Luxury Designer Clothes for Women Delivered to Your Door Lux Grey Faux Fur Midi Shaved Shearling Coat https://lux-apparel.co.uk/product/lux-grey-faux-fur-midi-shaved-shearling-coat/?utm_source=tumblr&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=ReviveOldPost

#taylornation #love #swiftie #arianagrande #justinbieber #selenagomez #ts #like #swifties #fearless #music #folklore #taylorswiftedit #red #reputation #taylor #speaknow #lover #taylorswift #bts #swift

[fashioneditswebsite]

Chanel serves immense hat energy at Paris Fashion Week as Gigi Hadid owns the runway

The Chanel show opened with a short film starring Penelope Cruz and Brad Pitt. Chanel's collection was a hit at the Paris Fashion Week show, revealing that big hats are trending. Models walked the runway for the autumn/winter 2024 collection wearing oversized floppy sun hats in black hues and pastel colors, adorned with silver hat pins. In addition to the fascinating headpiece mentioned earlier, models flaunted tartan flat caps on the runway. Additionally, flat caps are traditionally linked with British and Irish fashion. Therefore, it's exciting that the French fashion house has recently introduced them into its collections. Supermodel Gigi Hadid – a regular face on the Chanel runway – was one of the few models not wearing a hat. She wore an all-black outfit: a turtleneck and semi-sheer long skirt with a skinny belt and plenty of gold jewelry. Her ponytail featured a black bow and a white camellia, classic symbols of Chanel. The creative director, Virginie Viard, experimented with hats on the runway. The rest of the collection was business as usual. Many Chanel signatures were present, including boucle suits, cardigans with statement buttons, and quilted bags in all the rainbow colors. Layers of statement gold jewelry have long been a hallmark of the label Furthermore, it's worth noting that when Christy Turlington walked the runway for the spring/summer 1992 couture collection, wearing a black gown and plenty of gold chains, it was a memorable moment in fashion, much like Hadid's look, albeit more formal. Additionally, it's worth noting that while many of the ensembles resembled something straight out of a Chanel runway in the 1990s, some more contemporary touches caught the eye. For example, a blue cropped puffer jacket adorned with a camellia brooch, elements of denim, and a calf-length brown coat with a shearling lining and a matching hold-all were also present. Models walked on a wooden runway inspired by Deauville's boardwalk. Deauville was Viard's essential inspiration for the season. Furthermore, it's worth mentioning that she has had a long relationship with the Chanel brand since house founder Gabrielle 'Coco' Chanel opened her first fashion boutique there in 1913. Furthermore, it is worth noting that seaside references inspired by the town have appeared repeatedly in the fashion industry. A notable example is Karl Lagerfeld's autumn/winter 1998 collection, where the designer drew inspiration from the city to create a stunning collection. Chanel partnered with the Deauville American Film Festival in 2019. The latest Paris Fashion Week collection showcased the bond with the film. The show opened with a short black-and-white film starring Penelope Cruz and Brad Pitt. They drive in a car, order at a restaurant, and walk by the seaside with a Chanel bag. Fashion blogger @stylenotcom noted on Instagram that the short film was inspired by a scene in the 1966 French movie A Man And A Woman (Un Homme Et Une Femme). Furthermore, it's worth noting that Cruz has been associated with Chanel since 2018 as their brand ambassador since 2018. She visited Paris and attended the Fashion Week show. She showcased her impeccable style and saw the latest Chanel collection. Notably, she wore a stunning haute couture gown to the 2023 Met Gala, which left everyone in awe. She rocked a black leather-look skirt suit with a pale yellow jumper. A white statement collar added sophistication. Her fashion prowess and love for Chanel were evident. She wasn't the only star on the front row. At the show, Zoey Deutch wore a grey mini dress with a pink brooch and a new blonde hairdo. Margaret Qualley, a Chanel model, wore a yellow coat and dress set with black socks. Zazie Beetz donned a red strapless dress with an oversized black cardigan. By Prudence Wade Read the full article

[sheepskinjacket]

Amber Grey Sheepskin Shearling Coat for Women with Belted Collar

 $235.00

Product Specifications:

100% Real Sheepskin Leather at Outside. Internally Lined with Faux Shearling

Womens Faux Shearling Coat Comes with Stylish Cross Zipper Closure.

Multi-functional Stand-up and Lapel Style Collar with Belted Straps

Sturdy Enough to Protect in the Extremely Cold Weather.

Shop Now

[mysterymirrors]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Y2K Gap Suede Hooded Winter Coat - Tan/Brown - Women’s XS / Girl’s XL.

[clothing-and-accessories-website]

Elevate Your Style: A Guide to Women's Fashion Trends

In the dynamic world of fashion, women's wear continues to evolve, offering an array of styles, fabrics, and silhouettes to suit every taste and occasion. Whether you're seeking timeless classics or the latest trends, Purchase Point is your ultimate destination for curated collections that inspire confidence and elegance. Let's explore the latest trends and must-have pieces that will elevate your wardrobe this season.

Effortless Elegance with Tailored Blazers: Blazers have transcended the realm of office attire to become a versatile staple in every woman's wardrobe. This season, embrace tailored blazers in neutral tones like camel, grey, and black for a sophisticated touch. Pair them with tailored trousers for a polished look or throw one over a slip dress for a chic contrast of structure and fluidity.

Statement Outerwear for Every Climate: As temperatures fluctuate, investing in statement outerwear is essential. Oversized coats in plush textures like faux fur or shearling add drama to any ensemble while keeping you cozy on chilly days. For milder climates, lightweight trench coats in vibrant hues or classic camel are timeless choices that effortlessly elevate your look.

Reviving Retro with Wide-Leg Trousers: Channeling the glamour of decades past, wide-leg trousers are making a triumphant return to the forefront of fashion. Embrace high-waisted styles that elongate the silhouette and evoke old Hollywood sophistication. Pair them with fitted tops or cropped sweaters to balance proportions and showcase your waist for a modern twist on a retro favorite.

The Allure of Elevated Loungewear: Comfort meets style with the rise of elevated loungewear, blurring the lines between relaxation and sophistication. Luxe knit sets in cashmere or silk blends offer a cozy yet refined aesthetic perfect for lounging at home or running errands in style. Opt for coordinating sets in muted tones or playful prints to effortlessly elevate your off-duty look.

Embracing Color with Bold Knitwear: Inject vibrancy into your wardrobe with bold knitwear in eye-catching hues. From rich jewel tones to playful pastels, embrace color to brighten up even the dreariest of days. Opt for chunky knits with exaggerated sleeves or intricate cable-knit patterns for added visual interest and texture.

The Power of Versatile Dresses: Dresses remain a timeless wardrobe staple, offering effortless elegance for any occasion. This season, opt for versatile silhouettes that transition seamlessly from day to night. Wrap dresses in fluid fabrics like silk or satin effortlessly accentuate curves, while shirt dresses in crisp cotton exude understated sophistication.

Accessorizing with Impact: Elevate your look with statement accessories that command attention. Chunky chain necklaces, oversized sunglasses, and structured handbags add a touch of glamour to any ensemble. Experiment with mixing metals and textures to add depth and personality to your accessories collection.

Sustainable Fashion for a Greener Future: As awareness of environmental impact grows, sustainable fashion continues to gain momentum. Embrace eco-conscious brands that prioritize ethical production practices and use environmentally friendly materials. From organic cotton basics to upcycled denim, making mindful choices empowers you to look good while doing good for the planet.

In conclusion, women's fashion offers endless opportunities for self-expression and creativity. Whether you're drawn to timeless classics or the latest trends, embracing versatile pieces that reflect your personal style ensures that you'll always feel confident and empowered. With Purchase Point as your trusted destination for curated collections, elevate your wardrobe this season with pieces that inspire and delight.

[grimppleather]

SHEEPSKIN LEATHER BLAZER FOR WOMEN IN BLACK COAT JACKET

#blazer #black sheepskin #grey shearling coat #women jacket

[bebemoon]

look for the name: DANIELLE

alexander mcqueen by sarah burton black shearling trim suede leather coat w/ floral embroidery, c. 2o19

dolce & gabbana short-sleeve lace mini dress w/ velvet collar, c. 2oo1

mid-victorian hair comb w/ faux pearls

carol “czarina the great - gardenia” (w/ wolfhound dogs) eau de parfum, vintage

elena dawson grey velvet flower mules

#danielle #request #hope you like ! #outfit #items #looks #mine #name #alexander mcqueen #sarah burton #shearling #coat #duster #leather #embroidered #2o1o's #edp #vintage #perfume #carol #antique #victorian #mules #foorwear #jewellry #hair comb #pearls #velvet #elena dawson #dolce & gabbana

[amberndragomer]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: REISS Lonine Shearling Coat in Grey.

[americanjacketstore2]

Long Fur Coat– a Luxe Staple for Classy Women

Indeed, no one can beat a woman in fashion. Whether it's any season of the year, you will always see women donning perfect and classy attires. When we discuss women's fashions, some staples are timeless and make their comeback from the vintage era again and again. These vintage pieces are the most demanding and likable in this era because the current era is the fusion of modern and vintage styling.

Therefore, American Jacket Store brings you a perfect long fur coat from the past chapters. This stylish fur coat will take you on a nostalgic trip and make your style an inspiration to your fellows.

Attributes Of This Classy Long Fur Coat

Moreover, this classy, vintage coat features premium quality wool fabric with an inner faux shearling lining. Its shearling lapel collars and button closure make it more appealing. This black wool coat is the answer to all your fashion struggles.

Indeed, good styling can enhance any look. Therefore, I bring you some exciting new fashion ideas for this coat. Let's have a look.

 Styling Ideas For A Long Fur Coat

Thus, style this black woolen coat with a grey cowl-neck sweater and black jeggings for winter. Also, add knee-high leather boots to the look. It's a perfect winter look for your casual days or college.

Moreover, style this long fur coat with a button-up white shirt and mom jeans. Add loafers to your look, and you can hang out with your friends.

Also, you can pair it with a white or light blue button-up shirt and tailored cotton pants. Style the look with black pointed kitten heels. This formal look will go well for your official brunches and meetups.

The Final Thoughts 

Thus, there are many ways to style a perfect vintage long fur coat. And above, we have discussed some of the classiest ideas, too. So, this season, get this awe-inspiring fur coat and add luxe to your wardrobe.

#leathercoat #cristmas #winter jacket #newyear #hello winter #winter sale jacket #fashion #viral

[luxappareluk]

Take a Look and Get the LOOK. Luxury Designer Clothes for Women Delivered to Your Door Lux Faux Shearling Grey Oversized Maxi Coat https://lux-apparel.co.uk/product/lux-faux-shearling-grey-oversized-maxi-coat/?utm_source=tumblr&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=ReviveOldPost

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[alencooperus]

Stay Warm and Stylish with Bomber Jackets

The bomber jacket has an undeniably traditional appearance; its streamlined construction, luxurious material, and classic design make it one of the most cherished pieces to ever adorn our closets.  Thus, the cause of their steadily rising demand throughout the year is well known, but extensive information on their efficacy is covered up.

It is essential to examine the fabric composition of a bomber jacket in order to determine whether or not it can keep in the warmth during the winter. The most important thing to consider in this situation is insulation: and so the thought arises if any specific style of the bomber jacket has enough padding and lining to hold its fending ability. 

Bomber Jackets’ Variance

There are many distinct kinds of bomber jackets to meet different purposes. There are thin quilted alternatives, which are perfect for warm weather, and heavy down-filled ones with duck down filling, which retains extra warmth during chilly times. There is waist length or hip length styles depending on need. Rest, various furred bomber jackets, magnificent shearling bombers and puffer leather bomber wears come with an exquisite collection. Rabbit and mink fur bombers being the most significant categories among natural furred wears. Fur bombers are noted for their light weight, just like leather bombers are for their long lifespan. 

Besides, bombers are among the versatile apparels in concern to both weather and style. Hooded ones forms a great winter shield against extreme cold weather.

Bomber Jackets in Extreme Cold

According to Mark Twain, "Clothes make the man"—and that goes even when he's attempting to endure the chilly weather! Here are four explanations to justifications of Bomber jackets for men being one of the best winter ensembles:

1) They offer the most warmth since they are typically composed of premium materials like shearling wool pelts or authentic fur or even puffed leather that act as an effective barrier and retain standard warmth. 

2) They contain cozy pockets which keep palms warm and thereby also securing stored items.

3) The chic patterns come in a variety of colors to suit every preference, from vibrant shades like red or green to traditional neutrals like black and grey.

4) They can be paired up with any trousers and pants to reflect casual, semi-formal, or formal attire. Rest, they might also be additionally carried with an underlying sweater.

As a result, one has the option of selecting insulation levels without sacrificing comfort or elegance.

These aspects taken together demonstrate how effective a bomber jacket is as weather protection during the winter.

Making a statement with Bomber Jackets

It takes skill to match bomber jackets with winter clothing. Finding the right balance between staying warm and looking fashionable is important. Start with a few essential pieces to achieve this, such as a timeless black leather jacket, some dark denim, and some boots or sneakers. Additionally, depending on how chilly it is outdoors, layer up with sweaters or hoodies underneath your coat. These can range from thick knits to thin layers. To finish the ensemble, add additional accessories like scarves, caps, and gloves.

Try wearing your bomber jacket with a shirt and pants in muted hues like grey or navy blue for a more formal look. This will give you a smart-casual appearance that won't overheat but still makes you look professional.

This winter, there are tons of ways to dress up your bomber jacket; just keep in mind to stay warm while maintaining a stylish appearance. Whatever the weather throws at you, you'll be prepared with the correct layers and accessories.

Getting Quality Bombers

The secret to a smart winter wardrobe is finding the ideal bomber jacket. It might be challenging to know where to begin shopping when there are so many options available. Here are some things to think about when choosing where to get your winter bomber jacket.

Look for a winter bomber jacket that is made of high-quality fabric and construction. In cold weather, it should maintain the warmth while yet fitting comfortably over multiple layers of clothing. Consider how frequently you will wear the jacket as well. If you anticipate using it frequently, investing in a more expensive alternative can be worthwhile.

By taking all of these things into consideration, you can select the ideal winter bomber jacket that suits both your desires for style and your budget, ensuring that you are ready for any weather this season!

Inclusion

The bomber jacket is the perfect piece of winter apparel. Even on the coldest days, one can look the best because to its warmth and style. The bomber jacket is capable of withstanding the rigors of winter weather by following a few easy methods.  To complete the ideal winter style and stay warm in your chic bomber jacket, one can accessorize with scarves and hats.

Since World War I, when pilots required a durable yet stylish item to keep them warm during lengthy flights, this traditional garment has been around.  A top-quality bomber will always be there to provide warmth and protection from the intensity of winter's chill. Its classic style guarantees not only style but also functionality, and when we fight the chilly temperatures together, its dependable warmth envelops us like a warm blanket.

#Moto Jackets

[bomber2jacket]