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octuscle · 10 months ago

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Cursed Ken, part 1: Kemal, the janitor

There was a lot at stake for Patrick. Actually, it was about everything. He had invested an incredible amount of time and money in preparing for this appointment. He had to be successful. And he would be successful. His idea was brilliant. His preparation was excellent. He took a deep breath. The projector projected the image of a young athletic man onto the wall. The young man was obviously a janitor or something. The young man was made of plastic. And a small army of young athletic men made of plastic, one of whom was currently having an image projected onto the wall, stood on the table in front of Patrick.

"Gentlemen, the Barbie movie gives your product a tailwind that will open up completely new markets. Barbie and Ken have become socially acceptable. And I'm convinced that this offers unimagined opportunities for marketing Ken in particular"

It seems to be going well. The Head of Product Management reached for the janitor. And turned it in his hand.

"Whereas in the past, gay men never dared to buy a Ken doll without lying about it being for their little niece, today hundreds of thousands of customers with purchasing power can imagine having a Ken doll on the shelf in their bedroom. But these customers also need Kens that serve stereotypes other than the Malibu boy."

A young man, who looked a bit like Malibu Ken himself, smiled as he reached for the doll, which was dressed like a British redneck. Only in pink. It went really well!

"As well as new Kens, which cover current popular gay fetishes, we should also take into account the fact that Barbie is now a manager or a lawyer. So Ken should also be allowed to be a janitor or a garbage man. Especially as this also appeals to potential customers' fetishes."

A member of the controlling department took the figure of the soccer player in his hand. Patrick seized the opportunity immediately. He switched to the foil with the Germanic-looking Ken, who was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and had tattoos on one arm and one leg.

"With the European Football Championship in Germany this year, we have a major event that we can also exploit without paying license fees. We can place footballers, soccer fans and, as the epitome of masculinity, soccer hooligans. Everything that has to do with soccer this year…".

The head of product management cleared his throat. "May I interrupt for a moment?" he asked. Patrick nodded at him with a winning smile. "If you want my opinion, pack up your gay shit right now and leave the building. I didn't want this movie and I hate it. And the reason is that I feared excesses like this. I don't want a Ken who dresses like a faggot or a right-wing hooligan. For fuck's sake, does the prototype bodybuilder actually have steroid acne on his shoulders? Nobody wants to see that. And I certainly don't want to see it. Thank you for your efforts. But please leave. Go quickly and go far!"

Patrick stood open-mouthed in front of the screen with his presentation for a few seconds. Then he packed up without a word. He stuffed his artistically created dolls into a bag, put the computer in his laptop bag and left the room. He was on the verge of tears. He stuffed the bag with the dolls into the nearest garbage can. And then he left the building. Let Ken and Barbie choke you to death. Let them die of their fantasies. Anyone who even looked at Ken should become his fucking brainless image. How could he have thought he could make his fortune with these fucking figures? Never again!

There was an awkward silence in the meeting room. Not everyone present shared their boss's opinion. But no one dared to disagree. The two lucky ones who had a figurine in their hands discreetly slipped it into their jacket pocket. The head of product management took the janitor's Ken, stood up and said that he wanted to discuss this perversity with the legal department tomorrow.

It was mid-June. It didn't get dark until very late. Maybe that's why he hadn't even noticed how late it was. It was definitely time to call it a day. Where had that damn doll gone? He had it here on his desk… It was just too late, he was tired. But before he left, he had to go to the toilet. Damn it, he had to add toilet paper. And empty the garbage can. The snobs who were allowed to use the boardroom toilet often behaved like the ultimate barbarians. But it felt good to piss here. He would never get the privilege of doing it officially. But at this time of day? Who was going to forbid him?

The cleaning crew wouldn't be here for a few hours. He wiped over the urinals and washbasins with a few used paper towels. It was time to call it a day. But on the way out he could empty a few of the garbage cans along the way. Normally, he didn't pay attention to the contents of the garbage cans. Mostly boring papers. He assumed that the important stuff went into the shredding containers. There was something in one of the garbage cans on the conference floor that didn't belong there. Dolls. Various dolls that looked like Ken. In cool clothes. He'd never seen them like that before. Who threw something like that away? He packed it up once. It couldn't do any harm. Maybe he could sell the dolls…

Yes, he didn't have much to do with the blond Ken who stuck his mop in a pink cleaning bucket. But Kemal had even less to do with the powerful head of product management. He didn't want to deal with that kind of shit. He was here to service the air conditioning, replace light bulbs and sometimes fix faults in the elevator. It was a shitty job. But someone had to do it.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #race change #age reduction #ai image #barbie tf #ken tf #kenergy

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villainsview · 4 months ago

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Chapter 1

All Stories Start Somewhere

All stories start somewhere, but the beginning isn’t always as interesting, so let’s cut right to the chase. That’s also my name, Chase Fetcher, but you’ll find most people just call me Fetch. Now, let’s rush over the important stuff you need to know.

I got my medical degree in the army

I found out black market organ trade pays much better than a monthly salary

I got busted and lost everything, but people still wanted my services

I’m a quick study and expanded my expertise

Now I’m a modern-day mercenary specialised in kidnapping, “gentle” persuasion, organ harvesting and...waste disposal.

Now, to the interesting part. I thought it would just be a simple kidnapping. Peter Allard, a big shot in the Phoenix underworld, had some beef with Harrison James, a mediocre but strangely successful businessman. It was probably something about money. I didn’t really care. All I knew was that it was about a sum of three million dollars in ransom and my ten percent cut. All I had to do was snatch up James’ son and hold onto him until the ransom was paid. It would be simple, fast, and have a decent payoff in relation to the difficulty.

But of course it was too good to be true. I hit the first snag while I was stalking the target before abducting him. He was fifteen years old and attended a private school, which I preferred to stay away from. Snatching him at home would be unwise as well, which left me with his commute from home to school and back, because he didn’t come outside much besides that. It wouldn’t have been a problem, if it weren’t for his fucking friend. They were always together outside of school, playing around a bit before parting ways at James’ home. I almost considered just grabbing them both, especially upon finding out the friend would be worth a lot more money, but more money usually meant more trouble. In the end I decided to just eliminate the factor...literally.

It was the day to act. I had the two teens in my sight. I needed to get the blond one in my van, and I had to get rid of the redhead. The pair turned into the alley where they usually hung out after school to kick cans while the redhead secretly smoked. It was a quiet street and an even quieter alley, so all I had to do was park my van by the entrance, and carefully sneak up on them. They both had their backs turned. The redhead was poking a dead rat with a plastic tube he’d probably fished from the trash.

“Matt, stop that, it’s gross,” the blond teen said, holding his shirt over his mouth and nose to avoid having to smell anything.

“You’re not the least bit curious?” the redhead replied, poking a bit more.

“I think I’m going to throw up…”

That was my cue to act. I didn’t want to clean up vomit out of my van again, so I had to distract him from getting sick. The actual kidnapping ought to do the trick. I pulled my gun from its holster under my jacket, taking a couple quiet steps closer as I aimed at the redhead, before pulling the trigger.

BANG

“MATT?!”

The teen released a horrified shriek before I was able to silence him, slapping a hand over his mouth and pressing the gun against his back as I pulled him away from his bleeding friend.

“One more peep and you’ll join your friend in heaven,” I threatened. The boy whimpered, but other than that he settled down a bit, even as I dragged him towards my van, only weakly pulling at my hand which covered his mouth. Upon reaching my van, I swiftly opened the side door and shoved him inside, hopping in after and closing the door to conceal us from sight. The teen pulled himself from my grip and tried to crawl away, but I pulled him back by his ankle, reaching for a roll of tape.

“N-no—”

It was a brief struggle, but by the end of it I had the boy silenced with a couple strips of tape and had him pinned against the floor of the van as I tightly cuffed his hands behind his back, before padlocking them to a ring in the floor so he couldn’t crawl anywhere else.

“Mmn!”

“Shut up!” I hissed.

I could hear sirens approach, probably alerted by the gunshot, but still added another strip of tape over his eyes for good measure. I gave him a warning slap when he made a little too much noise, before quickly getting behind the wheel and driving off, blending into traffic to avoid any suspicion. An ambulance did rush past me, but I didn’t really see where it went as I was trying to remember the way back to the hideout my client had arranged. North of the city there was a storage lot that had closed down a couple years ago after it went bankrupt. The new owner hadn’t done anything with it...as far as the city was concerned, but apparently Allard rented it out a lot for things like this.

“Mgh!”

“Keep quiet back there! Don’t make me pull over to beat some sense into you!”

I glared at the boy over my shoulder while I could permit it. He’d fallen to his side, pulling uselessly on the cuffs holding him in place. I rolled my eyes, deciding to ignore him for the rest of the drive as I turned the radio up so I could still enjoy some music over his muffled sobbing and snivelling.

When I arrived at the storage lot, I unlocked the fence with the key Allard had sent me and drove my van to the block of units in the back of the lot, the furthest from the road. Away from anyone that might try to play hero. I could park my van inside one of the larger units, making sure I had room to get out and open the side door as well, though not until I had closed the garage door, concealing everything from sight. When I opened the side door to get Erick out, he was still lying on his side, trying to stay quiet even though his breath picked up as he could hear me right in front of him. I slowly put my hand on his shoulder to keep him down, eliciting a terrified whimper. Music to my ears. I tried not to grin too much as I put a little pressure on him to lean over him and free him from the hook attached to his cuffs. I moved my hand to grab his arm and pull him upright, expecting a fight, but he stayed nice and quiet.

“Up!” I said, pushing his legs to the edge of the van’s floor so he could find his footing before I dragged him out.

I had prepared a couple things for him; a nice chair to tie him to, and the ropes to tie him with. I pushed him down into the chair, to which the boy finally seemed to wake up. He tried to get back to his feet, so I quickly grabbed him by his jaw to snuff out his little resistance.

“Give it up, kiddo, you’ve got nowhere to run,” I growled.

He sobbed defeated and settled down, allowing me to pick up a coil of rope and get to work. I tied his wrists behind his back before undoing the cuffs and putting them aside. I looped the leftover end of rope around the back of the chair twice, before tying it off in a tight knot. I moved to his ankles and tied each to a leg of the chair before ripping the tape off of his mouth. He winced, but didn’t dare to make any other sounds as he took a few ragged breaths. I found a blindfold in my bag before I ripped the tape off of his eyes too, drawing out a yelp. I tied the blindfold over his eyes before he had the chance to blink his eyes open.

“P-please,” he uttered in a soft voice, “l-let me go, please...I— I won’t tell anyone, I promise...please…”

I rolled my eyes, his pleads falling on deaf ears as I grumbled back at him.

“Shut up.”

Erick choked back a sob and held his breath until I stepped away. I had to call Allard to let him know I had the kid, and I could use a smoke.

“Very good, Fetch. I expected nothing less of you,” Allard said after I brought him the news over the phone, “my men will take care of the ransom, as per usual, in the meantime you try to keep yourself busy. I’m sure you can manage that much.”

“I’m confident I can,” I replied, looking back over my shoulder at Erick.

I wasn’t sure if he could hear me, but I didn’t really care if he could. He was fidgeting nervously, testing the strength of the ropes that held him in place, trying to reach the knot that kept the ligature around his wrists in place. But he couldn’t reach it. His breath picked up as a wave of panic took over him. I smirked, flicking the leftover butt of my cigarette aside as I hung up and quietly approached the teen. I slowly stepped behind him, and put my hand on his shoulder, to which he jumped and held his breath. I could see the cold sweat dripping down his neck as he was torn between staying absolutely still and wanting to pull away.

“W-who are you?” he suddenly choked out, “w-what do you want?”

“It’s not about what I want,” I replied, putting my other hand on his other shoulder, watching how his chest rose and fell faster with each breath.

I grinned to myself, squeezing his shoulders a bit as I thought about all the things I could do to him. Allard only paid me to keep him alive, he never said I couldn’t leave him with a couple…souvenirs. I detached myself from the boy and walked over to my van. Right behind the driver’s seat, stood a coolbox, filled with half-molten ice and bottles of water. I took a bottle from the cooler and walked back to Erick. I pressed the cold plastic against his cheek, eliciting a yelp of surprise and fear. I chucked, before unscrewing the cap and putting the lip to his mouth, but he turned his head away. I rolled my eyes.

“C’mon, it’s just water,” I said, “you’re gonna need it, kiddo.”

“W-why?”

I ignored him and grabbed his jaw, savouring his scared whimper for a good few seconds, before once again placing the lip of the bottle against his lips, and tilting it, so he had no choice but to drink, or choke in it.

“Mrrrgn— cough!”

He regurgitated a few sips and coughed, trying to turn his head away, but I grabbed a tighter hold of his jaw, tilting his head back while tilting the bottle further, pouring more water down his throat, not letting go until the bottle was empty. I stepped aside as I did, to which the teen coughed up more water and gasped for air, leaning forward a bit and soaking his shirt. I chuckled, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting a new one.

“Now,” I said, “to answer your question earlier…” I took a drag of my cigarette, slowly blowing out the smoke before continuing. “Your dad owes my client some money, so you and I will be spending some time together until he pays up.”

“A-are you going to kill me…?” Erick choked out between sobs.

“Nah I’m being paid to keep you alive, why else would I waste water on you?” I said.

“B-but Matt…”

“Who— Oh, your friend. He got in my way,” I said.

“I-Is he going to…?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” I said, “no more questions.”

“But—”

“Rule number one!” I said loudly, talking over him, “if you’re not gagged, only speak when spoken to.”

Erick winced as I raised my voice, quickly nodding. I took another drag of my cigarette, blowing the smoke into his face, watching him choke back a cough.

“Rule two. If you’re not gagged, I prefer verbal answers. I’m not always looking straight at you, so a lil confirmation of you listening would be nice. Understood?”

“Mh…y-yes?” Erick said quietly. I rolled my eyes.

“Hasn’t anyone taught you any manners?” I said, “let’s make that rule three. You’ll address me as sir, understood? Try again.”

“W-why are you doing this?”

“Answer the question!” I shouted, making the teen jump, “do you understand the rules?”

“Y-yes sir!” Erick quickly said, trying to shrink in the chair, but being held back by the ropes.

“That’s more like it,” I said, “the rest is simple, kiddo. You behave, I don’t get mad, and by the end of the week you’ll be back home and we can both forget all about this.”

I took a long last drag of my cigarette, before smirking as I looked at the smouldering end.

“Well, maybe not everything,” I added, before extinguishing it on the teen’s neck.

“OW! P-please, I’ll be good, please!” the boy cried, trying to pull away.

I chuckled, flicking the extinguished remains away while I allowed him to sob. He was just coming to terms with his situation. I could silence him later.

#villain's view #VV #writeblr #whumpblr #whump writing #oc whump #cafekitsune #<-banner credit

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sgstories123 · 2 years ago

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Mystery Man At Mel’s Party In Marina

“Grab’s waiting.” Max called out to his sister impatiently.

“Yeah, okay. Don’t need to nag like mum. We are in time for the party.” Mel responded, pissed. She looked at her twin brother who was dressed in a burgundy casual jacket over a tight white t-shirt and black jeans. He had even put on CK One as the familiar scent reached her nose. Her brother had been working out in the gym. She had not realised before but the time and effort seemed to have paid off. Max was sporting larger biceps, a broader chest and chiseled abs. What a sexy body, she thought to herself, her irritation at her brother already subsiding by the sight of the muscular body.

Max and Mel had been invited to Leonard’s party last week and since then, he had been looking forward to it. Leonard was one of the richest guy in their class. He drives a silver Porsche 911 to school and wears branded stuff from head to toe. At the end of every semester, he would throw a party at some posh hotel. Everyone wants to be invited to his parties as it was rumoured to be wild and extravagant. But Leonard is very selective and only about 10 to 20 people are invited each year. The pretty girls in the class are often on top of his list. But Leonard changes his girlfriends so often that many are already struck off the list.

Mel was lucky this year to be in Leonard’s group for his Marketing class. As usual, she worked hard on the project and despite the rest of the group doing the bare minimum, they managed to get a Distinction for the module. Leonard was so pleased to get his first Distinction in his university life that he had reserved a place for Mel.

When Leonard heard that Mel had a twin brother in their class, he was surprised that two very different persons can be so closely related. “How can you be twins? You don’t look alike? Fuck! You are not even of the same gender.” Leonard had asked Max.“So, does that mean Mel has a dick?” Max was happy to go along with the joke and this endeared him to Leonard. Before the end of the semester, he found he to had an invitation to the party.

Max looked at Mel who was dressed in a long, shimmering blue dress, her front drawn low to expose the deep cleavage and ample breasts. A thin black belt accentuated her hourglass figure, spotlighting her assets. His cock stirred. Fuck! He told himself. That’s your sister. But a devilish voice responded immediately. That’s natural. You are only a man. Remember. The greatest queen of Egypt, Cleopatra, married her own brother.

Max shook off the thoughts. After spending one semester reading Egyptian history as an elective and that was what he remembered? What a waste of time. Back to the present, Max, he told himself resolutely.

An hour later, they stepped into the presidential suite at a hotel in the Marina Bay Area. Most of the guests were already there.

“Mel!” Nicole, Mel’s best friend shouted across the room. Nicole hurried over with champagne glasses in her hands. “Here! Take one! This is very nice!” Nicole seemed a little intoxicated as she swayed lightly on her feet. She must have arrived much earlier and helped herself to too many drinks. Nicole’s boyfriend, Abdul, walked behind her and held her by the waist, bending down to give her a quick peck on her cheeks. “You okay?” Abdul asked. “Yes, Sir!” Nicole responded. Abdul was an Army regular and took a scholarship to further his studies in the university. He was in his early forties and Mel was surprised when Nicole told her that they were together. “Why? You have a thing for father-figure?” Mel had asked Nicole. “Nope. I have a thing for military uniforms. He looked so cool in that uniform. And, of course being older, he knows a few more things when it comes to sex.” Nicole confessed. “You slut!” Mel laughed at Nicole. “You should try an older man some day, Mel. Preferably a Malay. They are circumcised and feel different from Chinese cocks.” Nicole was a self-professed sex expert.

“Hey Max! Come over here! I got something to show you.” Leonard, the host of the party had emerged from the bedroom. A group of guys had gathered around him and they seemed to be passing something small around, laughing nervously. Mel was curious and walked over to the group. When the group saw them approaching, they popped something into their mouth, washed it down with drinks and dispersed quickly. “What’s that?” Mel pulled Max over, whispering harshly. “Are you taking drugs?” Max pushed Mel’s hand away. “It is not what you think it is. Just something fun and harmless. Legit, okay?”

Mel was not convinced She walked over to Leonard who was now sitting in the sofa, looking out towards a floor-to-ceiling glassed window overlooking the Marian Bay Area, lighted by the street and building lights. It was a beautiful sight that only those with the money can buy. She sat down next to Leonard, her sisterly instinct kicking in. “Leonard, what did you give Max? Is it drugs?” Leonard turned and smiled at her. “You want some?” Mel was aware that several people around them including Leonard’s latest girlfriend Cheries was looking at her in amusement. “No. I mean I am not prudish or anything. I have taken them before. I just want to know.” Leonard laughed in his usual cocky manner. “Then it doesn’t matter.” He ignored her and took a sip from his drink.

Cherie seemed to be jealous that Mel had sat next to her boyfriend. She moved closer to Leonard, pressing her body against his, her arms wrapped protectively around him, signalling to Mel that she should move away as Leonard belongs to her.

“Look, Mel! Don’t worry, okay. It is a party! Just have fun.” Leonard leaned further back on the sofa. Cherie decided to take things up a notch further. She unzipped Leonard’s pants, took out his cock and started sucking on it. She was adamant to let Mel know that Leonard belongs to him.

Mel took the hint and turned to get up from the sofa. But Leonard pulled her down back on the sofa. He looked at her with half-closed eyes, obviously enjoying Cherie’s blowjob. He put a hand around her neck and pulled her closer to him, whispering “It was Viagra. I gave all the boys Viagra. You don’t need Viagra, do you?” He laughed, cockily, seeing everything as a big joke. He took out a small pill box from his jacket and popped out two red pills. “But you may want one of this. It is good.” He shoved one into Mel’s hands and lifting Cherie’s head from his cock, popped one into her mouth. Cherie seemed to know what the pill was. She washed the pill down with her drink before resuming with her blowjob.

Mel realised that her other classmates were looking at her. Feeling pressured, she popped the pill into her mouth as nonchalantly as she could and washed it down with champagne. She did not know what it was, but it cannot be too bad. No one has died or got into trouble at Leonard’s parties before. Anyway, Cheries has taken it too, she reasoned. But she was curious. What was it she has taken.

“How are you feeling?” Leonard asks her. “Fine. I don’t feel anything. Was it a placebo? You up to your silly tricks again?” Mel came to a sudden realisation that it may be another one of Leonard’s silly pranks. “It is an aphrodisiac for women. I thought you may be envious that Max has Viagra so I gave you something that it more appropriate for you.” Leonard laughed. “Not working, Leonard. I have no inclination to have sex.” Mel tried to sound cool.

But the pill seemed to be affecting Cherie. Her face was flushed and she had started taking off her clothes. When she took off her bra and panties, the guests hooted with joy. She proceeded to remove Leonard’s clothes before straddling him reverse cowboy style while Leonard was still seated on the sofa. She was bouncing herself on his stiff cock, as she moaned in pleasure. Some of the other guests took the opportunity to hug and kiss each other, catching up with the main act.

Mel had a first row seat to the show put up by Leonard and Cherie. Leonard was still holding on to her hand and it felt warm and comfortable. With his clothes off, Mel realised that Leonard had quite a muscular and sexy body. She touched his chest, enjoying the smooth touch of his skin, before resting on his hard nipple. Without realising it, she was already sucking on his nipple, her arms caressing his body.

Leonard grunted, shoving his hips upwards against Cherie, as he flooded her with his man juice. He held on to her, enjoying the last bit of pleasure as his cock pulsed with pleasure. When his cock had been drained, he pushed Cherie off to the floor and pulled Mel down to suck on his cock. As Mel started sucking on his cock, he deftly moved his arms under her long dress and removed her panties. His fingers found her love hole. Expertly, he pried them open with his fingers before inserting them in slowly. Mel gasped in pleasure as his fingers drew love juice from with her.

This time, Leonard wanted a cowgirl position. He helped Mel removed her dress before getting her to straddle facing him. Mel was surprised that Leonard could get hard again so quickly after having just fucked Cherie. His cock found her hole easily and slid into her. Leonard’s cock was providing so much pleasure that she blacked out for an instance. When she came to, Leonard was guzzling on her breasts like a baby while she was riding on his cock. Cherie was still lying on the floor after her session with Leonard. But one guy was eating her pussy and the other was trying to get her to give him a blowjob. Before she could see if the guy was successful in getting his cock into Cherie’s unconscious mouth, she was pushed by Leonard. She was now leaning upside down, her hands on the floor for support. Leonard had decided to stand up and do a pile driver. Her hands were too weak to support her but Leonard was holding on to her legs, pulling her upwards while he drove his cock deep down into her. She screamed as the cock went in so deep that her juices splashed out. It was the largest surge of orgasmic pleasure that she ever felt. She blacked out again.

When she woke up, she was on the floor, Cherie was not around any more. She vaguely remember Leonard laughing in her ear. “The pill is working very well, it seems. Have fun. The night is still young.” She tried to sit up but found herself too weak. As she crawled towards the sofa, someone held on to her ass. Before she could turn around to see who it was, she felt a hard cock being shoved into her love hole. She winced with pleasure. Her vagina had become so sensitive that there was too much pleasure for her to handle. She collapsed, her hands no longer able to support her. But this only lifted her ass, allowing the person behind her to shove his cock deeper into her. She moaned, letting herself succumb to the pleasure.

There was nothing else to do as she was too weak to move away. As she was being fucked from behind, she tried to look around her. It seems a full fuck fest was going on. Everywhere, her friends were making out. On the sofa. On the floor. On the bar. Against the wall. And she saw Cherie sandwiched fucked by two guys. She tried to see if the guy behind was fucking Cherie’s ass or was Cherie taking in two cocks in her cunt. But the guy fucking her had increased his pace. She closed her eyes as she released another round of her juice, wetting the carpet. The guy slapped her ass, as he also followed her, releasing his love juice next to hers on the carpet. Mel laid down exhausted. She turned around and saw that the person who had just fucked her was Teck Meng.

Fuck. She cursed herself. Teck Meng was nerdy, fat and pimply. But he was also brilliant in his studies. Leonard probably invited him to the party so that he can borrow his notes or get him to help him with his assignments. She needed to get away. It will be bad for her reputation if anyone saw her being fucked by Teck Meng. There will be no end to the snide remarks and callous jokes.

She managed to get to the sofa and lifted herself up. She walked unsteadily towards the bar and tried to sit down on one of the high stools. She lost her balance and almost fell but were grabbed by a pair of muscular hands. “You okay?” It was Abdul. “Yes, Sir!” Mel replied. Why was she mimicking Nicole, Mel thought to herself. It was weird. Like everyone else in the room, Abdul was naked. Nicole was right. Abdul’s circumcised cock looked different. “Fuck me, Sir!” Mel was surprised at what came out of her mouth. Was she crazy? Did she say that because she wanted Abdul’s cock? How can she betray Nicole like that?

But it was too late. Abdul had accepted the invitation and swept down, hugging her tightly and kissing her, his tongue invading every single crevice he could find. His hands attacked her breasts, squeezing them and pinching her nipples, sending her into waves of pleasure. He moved down quickly, squatting in front of her, licking and sucking her vagina as she tried to balance herself on the high stool while lost in her pleasure. Nicole was right. Abdul knows one or two things about giving pleasure. She has never felt this way before. Before long, she came again, squirting her love juice all over Abdul’s head, as she held tightly on to his short hair, her legs clamping hard against him, as her pleasure rode out in waves.

“My turn.” Abdul whispered softly as he carried Mel up in his strong muscular arms. He took Mel’s seat and sat her down on his cock, reverse cowgirl style. As Abdul leaned forwards, he turned Mel’s head up and kissed her. His hand supported her body, squeezing her breasts as he did so. As he pushed his cock into her, he pushed her forwards, allowing his cock to enter deeper into Mel. Mel gasped, as his cock brushed hard against her upper vagina walls, pressing against her pleasure points repeatedly. She was facing the window with the view of Marina Bay. There were fewer vehicles on the road now. It must be getting late. It was then that she caught sight of Nicole. She was lying side by side with Leonard near the window, doing a 69. She turned around to look at Abdul, hoping that he did not see Nicole cheating on him.

“Don’t think too much.” Abdul seemed to sense what was on Mel’s mind. “Everyone is just having fun at the party.” He pushed her down and stood up. Mel had her hands on the floor and her thighs held high by Abdul. In a wheelbarrow position, Abdul pushed deep into Mel, thrusting deeper with each stroke, eliciting screams of pleasure, each louder than the last. Mel was writhing in pleasure as her juices squirted uncontrollably out of her, each wave larger than the last. She tried to stay conscious but again she blacked out as her body could not take it any more. By the time she regained consciousness, she was lying on the floor near the bar. Abdul was nowhere to be found.

She laid down for a while, looking at her friends who seemed to be still engaged in sex all around the room. She sat up and saw a pair of legs jutting up from behind the bar. She crew over, curious to know who was behind the bar. It was Qing Long, the exchange student from China. He played basketball for his university and was very tall at 1.9 metres. Mel had avoided talking to him because his height always made her feel intimated. But now that he is lying down, he actually looked quite cute with his boyish charm and pale skin. The thing that most interested Mel was his cock. It looked so thick and long, and it was not even hard yet. Maybe tall guys have longer and larger dicks?

Mel could not stop herself and started sucking on it. She was getting to be quite a slut. As she sucked on it, she could feel it growing harder and longer. She was going to give up when she felt a hand stroking her hair. She turned and saw that Qing Long had woken up and was now sitting up. He smiled at her and helped her on her feet. Pressing her against the wall, he pushed his hard cock into her, fucking her in a standing position. Mel gasped as the long thick cock penetrated her. This was too good. But he was too tall and had to bend his knees awkwardly. He lifted both of her legs, carrying her. Her whole body was now resting on his cock, forcing her to accept his whole length. Mel blacked out again as the cock reached deeper than any other cock before Qing Long’s. She felt her vagina gagging, just like she would gag when taking in too large a cock in her mouth. She held onto Qing Long tightly, begging him to finish quickly, as she could not take it any more. He responded by banging her hard against the wall, finishing violently, in several hard, deep strokes. He released her, setting her down onto the floor. Mel was exhausted as she watched Qing Long’s man juice flow out of her sore vagina.

“You done?” It was Bryan, another exchange student from Finland. He had been popular with the girls, with his blonde hair and blue eyes. Qing Long nodded and walked away. Without even asking Mel, he pulled her up and led her into the bedroom. The bedroom was dark and was lit up by the lights of the main room when the door was opened. Mel could see several bodies on the large bed and on the floor, engaged in sex. Familiar, soft, moaning noises were heard throughout the room. It was an orgy over here.

But Bryan did not intend to share her. He pushed her into the bathroom where it was empty and brightly lit. He turned her to face the mirror over the sink, parted her legs and started fucking her from behind. Mel could see herself in the mirror. There were patches of dried sperm all over her body, including on her hair and face. Bryan was squeezing her breasts but he did not look as if he was interested in her. From the mirror, Mel realised Bryan was a selfish lover, only interested in his own pleasure. He was just staring at his own cock plunging her hole, not even looking at her. Thrusting without much emotion, he came quickly, took his cock out, and left the bathroom without another word.

Mel was disappointed. She did not feel any pleasure from this fuck. This must be the worst one of the night. She looked at herself in the mirror again. It must be late. She should get some sleep.

She walked out of the bathroom and saw a space on the bed. She laid down to get some rest but she was not going to get any. An arm wrapped around her and hugged her from behind. The guy started kissing her nape, slowing caressing her and touching her all over her body. It was very slow and sensual foreplay. Slowly, she could feel her body responding, enjoying the excruciatingly slow and erotic movements that they made together. After what seemed like an eternity, the man moved his hands towards her vagina, slowly teasing her until she was drenched in her own juices. He fingered her expertly, and she orgasmed several times, her body writhing in pleasure, jerking herself against the man’s muscular body. She could smell a familiar scent that the man was wearing but could not quite make out what it was. Her hands reached behind her to touch the man’s cock. It was huge and hard. She guide it slowly into her, as the man entered her from behind. He turned her downwards towards the bed so that he was fucking her sideways. With her legs lifted up, it was scissors-style. Mel had a sudden thought. Tonight, she must have completed all the Kama Sutra positions. Was there anything that she had not done yet? The man went slow, pushing and pulling each stroke deliberately. Mel could feel the pleasure transversing throughout her love canal and coursing through her whole body. It lasted very long but finally, the man approached his own orgasm, increasing his pace only slightly, before hugging her tightly, pushing his cock one last time deep into her and delivering his love seed into her waiting womb. The man gave Mel a soft, warm kiss on her shoulder before turning away.

Mel felt a strong connection to this man. There was a warm, familiar feeling. And the scent. It made her feel that she should know this man. She wanted to know him better and maybe fuck him again. She sat up. The room was still dark and she could not see who was on the bed. There was also several people on the bed and a few more on the floor. The man could be any one of them. She was quite sure the man had not left the room as she did not see the light from the main room entering the bedroom. She saw a thin silver of light from the drawn curtains. It was already morning. She got up trying not to step on the people sleeping on the floors and drew open the curtains. The early morning light was just enough for her to make out the people in the room. She recognised most of the people in the room. There were about 5 men and 3 women in the room. One of the men was her brother. The familiar scent was CK One.

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sea-changed · 3 months ago

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"But despite the bridges and the abandoned machinery of war and the ruined cities, the most ever-present reminder the French had, a year or two years after, that the American Army had ever been to their country was the GI clothing they were still wearing. [...] Besides being comfortable and warm, the Army clothing, which had been sold in a majority of cases through a petty black market while Americans were still all over France, had a strange fascination for its French wearers. [...] "The most popular pieces of Army clothing in France were the green herringbone twill fatigue pants with the big pockets, the regular OD pants, and the shoes. Two winters after the Americans came, overcoats were still a popular item and brought a good price on the black market. In Paris many men wore GI clothing in the routine fashion by putting their pants on their legs and the shirts on their backs, but thousands of French girls created hats, shirts, skirts, suits, shoes, and dresses from the miscellaneous pieces of clothing they had managed to get hold of from an American friend. It was not unusual to see a chic French girl strolling down the street in a well-tailored suit which on closer inspection turned out to be principally nothing but an Eisenhower jacket rebuilt to suit her frame."

Bud Hutton and Andy Rooney, Conquerors' Peace: A Report to the American Stockholders (1947)

#!!!#this book is deeply fascinating i will report back more fully when i've finished it #but this was too good not to stop and record #wwii book club #historical fashion

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soullessdianthus · 1 year ago

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𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧��𝐲

A/N: A repost version, therefore I couldn't answear theoriginal question! This one turned out to be GN!Reader x Soap. :)🎄

The snow had finally covered the cobblestone streets and all the rooftops across the city. Hanging ropes of lights shimmered in a variety of bright colors, Christmas music and carols echoing along the market, blending with people's warm laughs.

You were standing outside of the shop's window, looking at the little things stacked on display, hands hidden deep inside jacket’s pockets. You shivered just before your boyfriend came out of the shop with a paper bag in his hand.

— Sorry for keeping you freezin’ so long, baby.

Johnny swung his hand open, offering you a big bear hug under his bulky arm. With his gentle and pure smile, how could you not accept his offer?

You clung to his side trying to warm yourself up. Soap was a walking radiator of your own and his cologne smelt so good lately. The delicate scent of wooden gum mixed with menthol and sweetness of sugar cane. He smelt like home.

— Mind if we go for a hot chocolate on our way back? — You asked him with that look on your face when begging for something, like a puppy.

— Yer cold?

He gave you a little concerned look, kissing the top of your forehead, just under the hem of your woolen hat.

— A little.

— Then, maybe this will help. Merry Christmas, bonnie. — Johnny handed you a little paper bag and kept looking at the priceless expression painting on your face. — Saw ye lookin’ at them.

— Oh, Johnny. Thank you, that’s so sweet!

Quickly like a little child you impatiently dug up the present hidden between the decorative papers – it was a pair of thigh socks with a little bow on each side of them.

— They’re so cute, I love them! Thank you, Johnny.

You lifted your chin to kiss your boyfriend’s lips and it didn’t end on just one, innocent peck on the lips. If not for the masses of people around, it could easily turn into full make out session in the middle of the street.

— Yer blushin’ — he pointed out, cradling you closer to his chest, before leaning to your ear. His hot breath tickled a sensitive spot there. — Now, ye really want that hot chocolate? ‘Cause I can’t wait tae fuck you silly in them.

If your pretty, frozen face could go even more flushed – it did, when the thoughts of another pleasurable night with Johnny became inevitable. With his bare hands, calloused by years in the army, wandering so gently along your skin, squeezing where you need it the most, John devouring each little detail about you just to hear your cute whines and moans.

— Ye-Yeah, I like the sound of that.

#reposted #request #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #christmas

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rrlexchange · 1 year ago

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Ralph Lauren Takes His Line on the Road

By Stephanie Strom Sept. 23, 1993 (Originally published in the NYT)

While other retailers are taking their acts to television's home shopping networks, Ralph Lauren is taking his new line of jeans and rugged clothing on the road in an 18-wheeler.

A team of nine young salespeople yesterday started selling the designer's RRL, or Double RL collection out of a Peterbilt semitractor trailer truck parked on the campus of New York University in Manhattan. The trailer, painted with mustangs running across one side and pulled by a cherry red cab, plans to visit college campuses across the country cultivating customers who might otherwise miss the company's more traditional marketing efforts.

"It's a traveling billboard," Mr. Lauren, who looked as if he had just stepped out of one of the on-board dressing rooms in full RRL attire, said in a truckside interview at N.Y.U.

But it goes beyond that. The truck gives the designer, who is as much a savvy marketer as he is a fashion maven, and his retail empire reach beyond the fashion magazines and department store shops that feature RRL clothes. College students do not necessarily look to the ads in Esquire and Vogue for wardrobe ideas, Mr. Lauren reasons, or spend money in department and specialty stores.

Ralph had challenged us to come up with a new way of reaching young people because they don't read magazines as much," said Mary Randolph Carter, vice president of advertising for the Polo Ralph Lauren Corporation.

Peter Strom, the company's to-the-point President, explained that the traveling store was not about making a profit but, rather, about making a statement. The truck is scheduled to stop on college campuses through the first week of December, but Mr. Strom said he would be willing to finance a spring tour if the one this fall won the company exposure.

That sales are a secondary goal is not surprising, since $68 blue jeans and $78 flannel shirts may not fit into the average college student's budget. But Mr. Lauren is not worried about prices. "All the prices are very competitive," he said. "My products are really good products, high quality, and people will pay for that." Thrift-Shop Ambience.

The shop inside the truck, which has a sort of a Salvation-Army-thrift-shop-meets-general-store atmosphere, opens onto a tented area where clothes are stacked on battered industrial work tables, tossed into baskets or hung on mobile pipe racks. The collection is heavy on items like roomy barn jackets, tooled belts, faded flannel shirts and worn jeans

To handle logistics and campus politics, the company teams up at each campus it plans to visit with a student group, which then makes arrangements for the truck's arrival. In exchange, the traveling RRL shop donates 10 percent of its profits to the sponsoring organization.

Ads in campus newspapers and an "800" telephone number help herald the arrival of the truck, which stays two days at each campus. After leaving N.Y.U. it will head for the University of Connecticut at Storrs and then the University of Massachusetts at Lowell.

Said Sam Hamilton, the 29-year-old road manager who is leading the team, "I figure I can write a memoir when it's all over."

#double rl #rrl exchange #ralph lauren #rrl #ralph lauren western #rrlexchange #polo western #rrl western #polo ralph lauren #doublerl #rrl vintage

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heyyouknowbts · 18 hours ago

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BTS Content Watchlist: January - May 2016

This list includes official fan content, member lives, and variety show appearances.

Master post: BTS Content Watchlist

160104 [EPISODE] BTS RUN MV Shooting – has some of the same footage from the MV Bank Stardust that aired 151208

160104 [EPISODE] BTS (방탄소년단) '화양연화pt.2' jacket shooting

160104 The Show behind

160105 Run BTS! Season 1 Episode 10

160107 Jimin's log - WARNING: loud wind

160108 Music Bank 1st place and encore stage

160108 [BANGTAN BOMB] BTS 5th Win @ real last day of RUN

1601112 Star King 433 (J-hope and V) – link is to the English sub of J-hope & V cuts, the full subbed episode is on kshow123

160112 [BANGTAN BOMB] Hide and seek with Jimin, V, JK #1

160114 [BANGTAN BOMB] Hide and seek with Jimin, V, JK #2

160119 [Live] BTS Live in Vietnam

160120 [BANGTAN BOMB] Backstage at KBS Song Festival 2015

160122 BTS the Manual (BTS standee user manual)

160123 [BANGTAN BOMB] Jungkook collaboration stage with Zion.T

160126 [Live] BTS Hope on the Street Live

160126 [Live] BTS Hope on the Street Live Part 2

160129 [BANGTAN BOMB] Jimin drawing a piano for Suga

160130 [EPISODE] BTS Puma advertising photoshoot behind

160131 What are 95z up to?

160201 Introducing our BTS addict boss

160202 Celebrity Bromance Season 1 pre-release – A video prepared for you, who is tired of waiting (V)

160204 Celebrity Bromance Season 1 Episode 1 (V)

160205 [BANGTAN BOMB] Rap Monster special stage 'Buckubucku' feat. BTS

160206 The Boss is Watching - Full Episode Part 1, Full Episode Part 2, Youtube Highlight Version, BTS Cuts

160208 Nationwide Idol Singing Contest BTS Cuts

160210 [BANGTAN BOMB] A 400-meter relay race at 2016 ISAC; (BTS on MBC ISAC compilation video – 2016 wrestling and race events start at 6:16)

160210 Jin's log

160211 Celebrity Bromance Season 1 Episode 2 (V)

160212 [BANGTAN BOMB] Became an archer! Suga and Jimin's new challenge for ISAC

160215 [BANGTAN BOMB] Dessert time

160217 [Live] BTS J-hope's Birthday!

160218 Celebrity Bromance Season 1 Episode 3 (V)

160218 [Live] BTS 호비랑 놀자 ♡ (Let's play with BTS Hobi)

160218 [Live] BTS 호비랑 놀자 ♡ (Let's play with BTS Hobi) Part 2

160219 [BANGTAN BOMB] Perfect boys 2015

160220 [BANGTAN BOMB] Suga is trying to wear contact lenses

160220 [BANGTAN BOMB] Jimin singing 'Butterfly' over a loudspeaker

160223 [BANGTAN BOMB] J-hope singing 'RUN' over a loudspeaker

160225 Celebrity Bromance Season 1 Episode 4 (V)

160226 [BANGTAN BOMB] Jungkook is still a baby...

160226 [Live] Eat Jin: 배고프지 않아요? (Aren't you hungry?)

160301 [Live] Hwagae Market Episode 0 – Public apology broadcast

160302 Hwagae Market Episode 1 - Unmoved

160304 [BANGTAN BOMB] Pure Love movie VIP preview with Jin

160308 [EPISODE] BTS 1000 days with ARMY

160308 [Live] BTS Kkul FM 03.09 Mini Radio with Suga

160310 [Live] BTS congratulations on 2 million followers

160316 Close-up Observation Diary of an Idol – Second main character's hint video (RM)

160318 Close-up Observation Diary of an Idol – RM's fun-filled Friday

160319 [BANGTAN BOMB] Show me your BBA SAE

160322 [Live] BTS live in Kobe

160323 [Live] BTS live in Kobe – What are 95s up to

160325 J-hope's log

160328 Same Bed, Different Dreams, Season 1 Episode 46 (J-Hope) – you can find a full English sub of the episode on MyAsianTV, KissAsian, or Kshow123

160330 – BTS at the 30th Golden Disc Awards 2016

160331 Eat Jin Season 2

160405 BTS Now 3 in Chicago – Dreaming Days

160412 The SHOW – Idol drawing contest BTS

160413 [Live] BTS Hope on the Street

160418 [BANGTAN BOMB] Actor Kim with Kook PD

160419 [BANGTAN BOMB] Jungkook's shopping

160424 Jimin's log

160426 Star King 447 (RM, Jimin, J-hope)

160427 [BANGTAN BOMB] Snowball fight (Jimin's cam)

160430 [BANGTAN BOMB] J-hope is trying to wear contact lenses

160501 [Live] BTS Countdown Live "Burning BTS!"

160502 [EPISODE] BTS Fire MV Shooting

160503 [EPISODE] BTS HYYH Young Forever Jacket Photo Shooting

160506 [BANGTAN BOMB] Hand in Hand at ISAC 2016

160506 [Live] SUGA

160507 [Live] BTS HYYH on stage: epilogue live (Jin)

160507 [Live] BTS HYYH on stage: epilogue live (Jimin and Jungkook)

160508 [Live] BTS HYYH on stage: epilogue live (J-hope, V, Jin, Jimin, Jungkook)

160510 Star King 449 (RM, Jimin, J-hope) – link is to the BTS cuts, full English sub of the episode is available on KissAsian. The members are only in the last segment of the episode (after 40 minutes)

160512 M!Countdown Backstage – Congratulations BTS!

160512 [EPISODE] BTS' Fire 1st win at M!Countdown

160514 [EPISODE] BTS Fire 2nd win at Music Bank

160517 [Live] BTS Live (this was while filming Bon Voyage Season 1 and V hadn't joined them yet)

160519 [BANGTAN BOMB] Show! Music Core special MC Jungkook

160519 MBC K-Pop Hidden Stage Episode 1

160521 [Live] BTS Live

160522 [BANGTAN BOMB] Inkigayo 1st win, Jin and RM special MC

160522 Running Man Episode 300 – full English subtitled episode is on Viki (subscription service), BTS appears from about 46 minutes into the episode until about 1 hour 3 minutes. Can also find it on kshow123

160522 [Live] BTS Live (J-hope and Jimin)

160523 [Live] BTS Live (Jungkook and Suga)

160524 MV Bank Stardust (Fire)

160526 Celebrity Bromance Special Edition (V)

160527 [M2] Burning Karaoke – BTS BANG BANG BANG

160529 M!Countdown backstage

Let me know if a link isn’t working, or if you find something I missed! My ask box is always open, anon or not 💜

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z0mbiezgutz · 5 months ago

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Being under an alternative subculture can be so toxic. Like I’m sorry I don’t like to get stuff off of child labor stuff. “ I can only afford shein” SO MAKE YOUR OWN STUFF!!! I’ve gone to an army surplus store and bought a military uniform jacket for five bucks and bought studs, spikes, and patches online. You can make spiked cuffs out of scrap fabric or save up and buy it sustainably. People are just too lazy to diy. Being emo, goth, punk is making your own stuff and supporting each other. Thrift stores and flea markets have things really cheap. People just want things to feel alternative, it’s about music and where you stand as a person. (Not all subcultures are music based but diy is still involved with it) just be a good person and avoid fast fashion as much as you can, I know it’s difficult.

#emo girl #2000s scene #aesthetic #tumblr emo #emo scene #2000s emo #2000s scemo #emo kid #emotional hardcore #goals #diy #alternative subcultures #goth subculture #punk subculture #community

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compelledcurator · 7 days ago

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Lost meme

@musesinked asked; "Don't you know you're not supposed to take things that don't belong to you?" for yelena from kate.

Yelena rolled her eyes, here we go another lecture about societies rules for good guys vs bad guys. does the wanna be hero ever shut up? not yet.

" Kate, I love that you have this whole hero thing going on but please it's not that big of a deal okay everyone steals at least once "

She laughed off the warning as she took another handful of nuts from the open market stall, she was hungry and tired and since their map had blown up with the last car they were also lost.

The universe seemed to throw these two together once more, on the same side for now and both hunting some bad, bad men. Kate seemed eager to get more action and prove her worth as a hero and Yelena wanted to free as many Widows as possible and eventually destroy the Red Room organisation, The rumor mill spat out endless leads and sometimes dead ends but Yelena carried out these mission by herself, until Hawkeyes pet literally swung into her st the last stake out.

Since then they've been running, least Yelena has to keep Kate safe until they can actually make a solid plan of action which may have to involve a shower because Yelena and Kate had been in the sun, in leather jump suits for a few days and well, it was starting to become obvious they weren't smelling as fresh.

" Look you go find a car or something useful and I'll get supplies, I'll pay don't worry " she had no intention of paying.

Looking over the stalls she also made mental notes of the surrounding area, Thick woodland off to the left, gravel carpark leads here to an open field. Exposed. Busy though, plenty of civilians here enjoying the sun. She noted no security, no CCTV, no WiFi either.

The end stall had hunting gear, plenty of bows and arrows, knives, guns, and her favourite, multifunctional vests with like a million pockets! Yelena bee lined for it.

" How much? " she held the army green vest like a baby, her voice however sounded less interested. She knew these types, If you act like you love the product they'll charge you extra for the privilege. The price was reasonable but even so Yelena and Katie had no money with them, She said she may come back later and asked when he would be leaving.

Even if Yelena couldn't have her jacket, the ammo and weapons were essential, she'd had to convince Kate they needed to distract him and Borrow the things needed until they had access to their money. She could totally Venmo later. Maybe.

#Main | YelenaBelova #Ask | Mission?#Marvel #Marvel cw #musesinked

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kaeru483 · 5 months ago

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~writing share~

oof, y'all have been so nice to me tagging and sharing and inspiring and i just love you all so much i wanna give you all a big smooch

BUT! i instead offer you some of what i've been working on this week. below you'll get to meet linden, the oldest brother who is super scary and questionable but also canonically the best dressed, and see thalia feel something other than mad :)

as always, taglist below the break. lmk if you want in or out. ok have a good dayyyyy <3

Down in the shop, I hear the firm whispers of a secret conversation. I quietly stand from my bed, smoothing my pants as I tiptoe to the top of the stairs. I sit on the very top step, leaning my head towards the storeroom to eavesdrop on the conversation below.

“What do you think they can do for you?” Rowan speaks softly, and Needa replies in turn.

“What else can we do, Rowan?” I can hear the fear punctuating her breaths, as if she is shaking right to her core. I hear Rowan sigh as she continues: “There’s nothing we can do on our own.”

“Need I remind you of the last person who showed up to The Council unannounced?” he spits out, interrupting her. The silence that follows is so thick, even I can feel it hidden atop the stairs. My brow furrows–The Council? I stand back to my feet, and walk to the bottom of the stairs, catching Rowan and Needa off guard. They stare at me in silence, as if they’re waiting for me to say something. I grab my rain jacket off the hook near the door, and nod to them as I walk out the front door. There is only one person I need to speak to right now, and it’s best if I go speak to him alone.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

I don’t bother to pull my hood over my head as I journey to the castle on the other side of town. The rain feels cool on my still heated cheeks. The streets are empty, lit only by the windows of homes and the setting sun reflecting off the wet stone. Despite everything, my father has always said I am welcome in the castle at any time, so the Sentinels barely notice as I climb the stone steps to the grand wooden doorway between them. I run my hands over my wet face and hair, shedding water onto the stone floor and leaving a small puddle. I toss my wet jacket over my arm and scan the main corridor for any sign of life.

I hadn’t expected the castle to be so calm after such an alarming event in the market. More Iron Sentinels are posted around the castle, standing stoic against the stone in their black leather armor and iron swords sheathed on their hips. Since my father’s coup, the Iron Sentinels became the primary defense against Mystics and Mystic-supporters. The soldiers of King Eamon’s army who stayed loyal to my father’s cause were promoted to Sentinels and given posts throughout the city. Ash was promoted to the leader of the Steel Vanguard, the strongest squadron of Sentinels in Windfell. I wanted to be so proud of him, but these ends could never justify those means.

I wander down the corridor towards my father’s office, running my hand along the cool stone walls to keep my blood from boiling. This castle is a constant reminder of the evil my family has wrought on the land and I can’t seem to quell the rage boiling in the pit of my stomach. I reach my father’s office door and push it open gently. The room is empty, and I sigh quietly in relief. I enter the dark and dusty room, gazing at the tall bookshelves behind the large wooden desk. The books on the shelves are dusty as if they haven’t been touched in years. Papers are scattered around the desk, and I pick one up to read it.

“URGENT MESSAGE to Iron King Alaric Blackthorne from Iron Inquisitor Colonel Phoenix Fahlgren: Our squadron has been forced to retreat from the border of Avalore. Mystic attacks have increased threefold and our numbers have been diminished. We request—”

“Well, look who finally came in from the rain.” I am startled by the voice in the doorway, and shove the letter back down on the desk. I turn to see Linden leaning very casually against the wooden door frame. I cross my arms across my chest and glare at him as he stands in the doorway, blocking the only exit with his slender frame. He mimics my stance by crossing his arms across his own chest.

“Where is he?” I ask coldly. I don’t want to deal with Linden’s games today. As a child, he was eerily quiet, always with his nose buried in a book. Despite his quiet nature, he was always adept at spinning tales to get Ash and I in trouble just to watch as our father would lecture us about our behavior. These days, he’s the liaison between the Acolytes, who keep the city running behind the curtain, and our father. How fitting that he be the face of the shadowy enforcement group--the ones you never see until it's too late.

“Dad’s busy,” he says as he glides past me to Dad’s desk, gently pushing the papers around without looking at any one in particular. “I’ll tell him you stopped by.” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. My cheeks begin to flush with heat as I face my brother. Even now, he is a spitting image of our father. His hair is dark and straight, and when he laughs, he reveals his white teeth, perfectly straight with a small gap between the front two. He still maintains his boyish charm, but something dark stares back from behind his dark brown eyes.

“Do you want to fill me in on what the hell happened out in the marketplace?” I realize too late that I am almost yelling at him when his face falls to a dark glare. The silence is heavy on my chest as I wait for my brother to respond.

“You know what happened,” he spits out. I’ve struck a nerve in him, and I want to keep plucking that string until he tells me what I need to hear.

“No, Linden. I don’t.” I can’t hold back the anger in my voice. “A man is screaming in the streets, and our brother slaughters him in front of the entire town.” Linden doesn’t respond, merely closes his eyes. “Why was he screaming? Why was he…” I pause to wait for Linden to meet my gaze. My question is almost a whisper “Why was he glowing?” Linden sighs deeply and drums his fingertips on the desk while he thinks. I stare at him, desperate for any response.

“Because–” he’s as quiet as I am– “he was a Mystic.” The silence is palpable as the weight of his words sit on my heart. He makes his way to the bookshelf behind the desk, searching before selecting a thick tome on a high shelf. He brushes the dust off the cover, and holds it out to me. I take it, silently. All our lives, Linden has been a quiet but calculated jackass. He could lie his way out of any situation, place all of the blame on one of us and get away with murder if he wanted to. But this Linden, the one before me now, is different. His words are more cruel and his eyes are colder, but this is a genuine gesture. I look from my brother to the book in my hand. The title reads “The Codex of the Imbued Ascendants” in faded gilded font. By the look of the worn and musty pages, this book is older than even our father’s father.

“Why are you giving me this?” I run my fingers across the embossing along the spine, looking at the worn edges of the pages. I meet Linden’s gaze, and he is staring at me with a ferocity I haven’t seen since the coup. His response is a forceful whisper as he closes the gap between us. I look up to meet his terrifying glare.

“If you don’t know by now, how do you expect to survive?” I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Everything that has happened in the last hour is turning over and over in my mind, trying to connect any of the pieces. Linden begins to leave, but stops at the doorway and looks back at me, expectantly.

“Linden,” my voice is quiet, as I’m still processing everything from watching a man die, to Linden doing something seemingly nice for me. He interrupts me, and waves at me to exit the office.

“Keep that book close to you. Don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.” He ushers me out of the office as I tuck the book beneath the jacket over my arm. We walk in silence past the Sentinels that guard the stairwells to the main entryway, where there is still no sign of our father or brother. Without a word, Linden turns on the balls of his feet and disappears down a staircase away from the entryway and out of sight. I guess there’s only so much kindness he can handle at a time, I think to myself.

taglist: @thecomfywriter @the-golden-comet @wyked-ao3 @gioiaalbanoart @sunshineshadowcast

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing blog #creative writing #writing #writeblr community #my wip #wip share

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sl-newsie · 9 months ago

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Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 10: A Favor

Time passes much faster in Gotham. In the blink of an eye it’s already been two months, but my plans have progressed triumphantly nonetheless. After that night in the morgue with Dr. Crane I hightailed it to my apartment and cleared out anything that would trace unwanted investigators to me.

After a quick Internet search I discovered my hypothesis was right- my record has been wiped from every system. As if I was never employed in Metropolis. Only a few colleagues back home tried to find me… and were either silenced through bribes or blackmail. So I drained what money I could from my account and found a small apartment in the high-society part of Gotham. Expensive yes, but it’s also allowed me to blend in with the very people I’m trying to exact revenge on. A few fancy dresses and a haircut made perfect camouflage.

I’ve kept my promise to Ivy and contacted her through written notes passed through the underground. I’m already infiltrating high society, might as well know good contacts from the slums as well. If anything they are far more reliable than the esteemed rich. After a few weeks Nigma sent me his own message- appropriately in the form of a riddle. He’s hiding out in an abandoned library.

What’s remained an unsolved riddle is what’s become of Dr. Jonathan Crane. I hear whispers from those underground that he’s been selling his fear toxin to the black market. To the mafia. I find it funny to see a highly regarded psychiatrist like him turn into a mafia drug dealer. Another side question is if he still remembers me- but I stop thinking too deeply about that.

“Everything alright, Ms. Prentiss?” The elevator man in front of me asks.

I shake my distracting thoughts away. “Not at all, Marcus. Just overthinking, is all. How’s your wife?”

The poor man shakes his head as the elevator rises towards my apartment. “Elaine’s condition hasn’t gotten worse, but it hasn’t gotten better either. And we can’t afford many more treatments. We still have debts to pay to Falcone.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say softly. “If there is any way I can help, please let me know.”

Marcus offers a small smile. “Thanks, Ms. Prentiss. But you’re too young to get caught up in this. My advice? Get out of Gotham.”

You have no idea how badly I want to follow that advice, Marcus. I miss my old home in Metropolis. I miss seeing trees, grass… Not a concrete nightmare. But if I left that would mean I would be leaving these poor citizens behind. I don’t owe them anything, but I can at least make a difference by ridding the city of the people who are destroying their lives. The people who destroyed my life. Throughout the past months the rise of mafia crime has been rising, more proof that I need to stay.

“Maybe someday, Marcus.” The elevator dings and I step through the open doors. “Goodnight. Say hi to Elaine for me.”

He nods. “If only everyone here was as caring as you. Goodnight, Ms. Prentiss.”

Goodnight, indeed. Now it’s time for the real nightlife to begin.

I unlock my door and step into the dark apartment, the only light coming from the city lights in the window. That’s the only highlight about this costly place: the view is breathtaking. No wonder the rich snobs love it here. I shed away my business attire and slip on my nighttime uniform: black leggings, black jacket, and army boots.

Now comes the fun part: sneaking out. When I first got here I scoped out a way to slip out the window. After a few guesstimations I purchased a pulley system to transport me to a nearby fire escape. The adjacent building is unoccupied so no one pays any attention to me. Everyone is too busy worrying about Batman.

That’s the other piece of juicy news that’s been floating around: Gotham has its own vigilante. The media has been eating it up like candy. Every night there’s a new report about criminals being turned in by the masked man. However I have my own agenda to attend to.

Everything I need is in my knapsack. I unlock the window and lower down to the fire escape. Tonight’s weather promises perfect conditions for my research. It’s not stalking, it’s research. I climb down to the pavement and check the paper map. Three red Xs, three targets. My first stop is a few blocks away, just past this parking complex. The best lookout point is on the 10th floor.

Ding!

Once again another set of elevator doors open and allow me out, only this time the situation keeps me much more alert. Was that a car driving by or a tank? No matter. My presence is to remain discrete. No use poking into business that’s not mine. I grip my knapsack and begin walking through the echoing building.

“...wasn’t for freaks like you!”

What?

I stop in my tracks and poke my head around the column to see a gruff man come storming right past me. He’s dressed in black, almost like Batman. He fails to notice me and keeps walking until he’s entered the staircase. Who was he yelling at-?

It can’t be. It is.

The Dr. Jonathan Crane sits slumped against the wall. His face is barely visible in the shadows but I can tell he’s been busy. His hair is unkempt and his suit is slightly more worn than it was in Arkham. He's missing his glasses. His Scarecrow mask lies a few feet away. Part of me urges myself to walk away without a second thought. The other half… it thinks differently.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

The fear doctor doesn’t move an inch. One might think he’s dead. The only thing he does to acknowledge me is shift his eyes over to look at me. Same calculating stare, same piercing blue eyes.

“I heard Batman cornered you in a parking garage a few weeks ago,” I gesture to our surroundings. “Just like this one.”

Dr. Crane lets out a small hum. “Your information is correct.”

“Another drug deal gone south?” He nods slowly and I shake my head with a somewhat taunting smile. “My my, how the tables have turned. Now instead of being head honcho of Arkham you’re doing business with the mob.”

“Quit the mockery, Dr. Prentiss. Unlike you I’m not exactly welcomed in society after the incident at Arkham. By the way, how did you manage that?”

My instincts tell me it’s safe to approach. If he does have any fear toxin on him then I have a gas mask at the ready.

“It’s called being nice. Unlike you I have much friendlier methods of infiltrating Gotham.”

Crane sees me walking closer and almost seems to freeze up, nearly inching away like a startled animal, but he’s quick to regain a confident demeanor. How far has his mind gone these past months?

“What brings you to this supreme location?” Crane asks sarcastically.

“Research,” I answer simply. “I imagine you’re headed back to wherever it is you call home now since your friend just walked off? What’s that all about?”

Crane’s face flinches into a sneer. “That wannabe thinks that it’s people like me who are tearing Gotham apart. I’m trying to save it!”

Despite his quick outburst I keep a straight face. “By methods of fear.”

He slowly nods. “Exactly.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.” I check my watch. 10:30. “Nice to catch up Dr. Crane but I do have things to do.”

I do a mock goodbye bow and keep walking to the other side of the building. Quit feeling sad, Prentiss. He doesn’t miss you, you don’t miss him. We settled our agreement- And yet Crane is following me.

“Dr. Crane, I advise you to turn around and walk away.”

He doesn’t stop and catches up to me. “No, I like this. Dr. Prentiss, the once-goody-goody psychiatrist, is now sneaking around like a rebellious teenager. How’s the whole ‘raging Hell’ scheme coming along?”

“Better than your drug deals,” I reply smoothly.

We reach the end of the parking structure. Across the street is an apartment building that houses one of my targets: Lawrence Thompson. The filthy lawyer who was supposed to, but failed, to defend me. Instead he turned halfway through the legal process and tattled a mouthful of lies against me.

“Picking out your new luxury apartment?” Dr. Crane asks. He’s standing next to me- almost too close for others’ liking. But it’s fine with me. He’s been close enough to administer toxin into my veins, he can stand next to me as a temporary colleague.

“It’s not your place to know, but it’s part of my research,” I answer and note the time when I see the scum in the window. 10:34.

Next to me I hear Crane hum. “Are we replacing ‘revenge’ with ‘research’ now?”

Since when is my life his entertainment? “Don’t you have a place to stay?” I ask with a slightly lazy tone.

He scoffs. “When I worked at Arkham I had an apartment. Obviously now that I’m an escaped convict I need to find lodgings elsewhere.”

I tilt my head. “So you’re homeless?”

“I’m temporarily unhoused. There’s a difference.”

“You’re in serious need of an upgrade.”

Crane leans away and avoids my gaze. “I don’t want your help.”

I clap my hands together and nod. “You’re right. You don’t want it, you need it.”

Out of nowhere the doctor lurks even closer, backing me against the wall. My pulse skips faster… though whether it’s through fear or excitement is unclear.

“You forget I’m the one who caused you to face your greatest fear,” he murmurs.

My eyes never blink and I keep a steady face. “Do you expect a thank-you card?”

His brow furrows in confusion. “Wait a minute. You’re glad? That’s the first time I’ve had someone thank me for poisoning them.”

I went through a whole year trying to suppress my grief for my parents. His fear toxin gave me the push to overcome it. For the past month I haven’t once thought about my parents’ death.

Thompson appears in the window again. 10:41. So it takes him 7 minutes to take out his trash. My work tonight is almost done. Now I just need to scope out the other side of the building.

“Stay. Stay, Crane,” I say as if talking to a dog when I hear him behind me again. “Stop following me!” He murmurs something but I can hardly hear him. “Come again?”

“Um… does an offer for potential lodgings still stand?” He asks with a hint of nervousness.

Don’t help him. Do not help him! He’s nothing but trouble. If I allow him to stay in my life then it will only cause delay. How can I possibly trust this psycho enough to let him stay in my apartment? I’ve made it this far by myself-

“I’ll pay for it,” Crane speaks up when he sees my disagreeing expression.

“Money is not an issue. Try again.”

He licks his lips and rethinks his offer. “If you let me stay, I will owe you a favor.”

My eyes narrow. “What kind of favor?”

Dr. Crane leans in with the same stern eyes. “A favor that might save you if you’re ever in a pinch and need help.”

Do not help him! But in Gotham a favor is worth more than a million dollars. I can’t afford to ignore it. Even Ivy’s mentioned how profitable allies can be in this city.

“Fine. You can stay with me, but on my terms.” I point a warning finger and get up in his face. “No stealing. No fear toxins. No slitting my throat when I’m sleeping. And! Keep your hands to yourself, or I will gut you like a fish.”

Crane doesn’t flinch. “Deal.”

#jonathon crane #jonathon crane x reader #dr jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow #poison ivy #the riddler #harley quinn #the joker #two face #the penguin #batman #batman begins #the dark knight #the dark knigth rises #gotham #gotham tv #cillian murphy

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chiral-dimensions · 2 months ago

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A decade-old goal achieved

I have been meaning to get around to putting this back patch on my M-1965 field jacket since sometime in the first half of 2014. I usually like to chain stitch patches on and follow with a tight whip stitch around the edges. I finished the last of the stitching tonight.

The patch is from Entangled Roots Press, they're still active and easily found online.

I got the jacket in 2004 or 2005 from a military surplus store in Kensington Market, it appears the previous wearer was a sergeant in the US Army's 1st Armored Division.

Also I knew my hair was thinning but this is the first time in a long time anyone has taken a picture of the back of my head while my hair was all pulled to the side so I have a second milestone of finally realising that I am apparently balding.

Pictures by wife

#wife #me #patches

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sea-changed · 3 months ago

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"When the tactics of the Spanish-American War showed the wisdom of some semblance of camouflage, blue gave way to khaki [in U.S. Army uniforms] and eventually to the olive-brown tones of Dwight Eisenhower’s famous short jacket. The standard-issue olive drabs, or 'O.D.s,' were openly derided. 'It was a shade that might have reminded an imaginative observer of the color of vomit or even excrement,' the cultural critic Paul Fussell wrote in his 2002 book, 'Uniforms.' After V-J Day, it became existentially necessary for the Army to address its image problem. Olive drab was a drag on morale and a handicap to recruitment, and the mass entry of army clothes to the civilian life, as worn by veterans to tend their lawns or to pump a customer’s gas, further eroded its prestige.

"In 1949, the Office of the Quartermaster General set about stabilizing the army uniform, and its search for a new color may have represented the most extensive development and market-testing process in the history of both apparel and bureaucracy. An advisory committee ruled that a neutral gray-green would be 'flattering to the greatest range of people,' according to a later technical report. A team from the Quartermaster Corps proposed army uniforms to about 15,000 troops in 24 cities [and] quantified the relative enthusiasm of recruits, veterans and officers’ wives[.]

"[...] Phased in between the mid-’50s and early ’60s, the army green field uniform projected “the confidence and readiness of an authoritative military force,” the historian Shelby Stanton wrote in 'U.S. Army Uniforms of the Cold War, 1948-1973.' 'Army green,' Stanton felt, 'complemented the U.S. desire to project the most professional soldiering image toward its Cold War adversaries.'"

Troy Patterson, "How the Army Jacket Became a Staple of Civilian Garb" (New York Times)

#i didn’t even read this article looking for wwii facts and yet!#i want to read a whole book about the cultural meanings assigned to gi uniforms #if anyone knows of anything even somewhat adjacent please do let me know #wwii book club #historical fashion

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darerendevil · 1 year ago

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For archive purposes: August, 2016

Pretty much every summer since he was a little boy, the Irish actor Cillian Murphy has taken his summer holidays in Dingle, a small fishing and market town in Co Kerry. It’s a curious mix of Graham Greene’s 1930s Brighton — all colourfully painted pubs and no flashing amusement arcades — and organic restaurants and sushi bars from the cosmopolitan 21st century. It seems entirely appropriate for Murphy, 40, who can wrap a dangerous hardman from the past, like the Peaky Blinders gangster chief Tommy Shelby, in a soft cloak of contemporary vulnerability.We meet a few streets back from the front, in a pub so Irish, you’d think it was a film set. On one side, there’s the bar; on the other, a hardware store counter. He walks in as I’m trying to buy a drink and finding they don’t take debit cards. It takes a couple of seconds to recognise him. He’s slender, hunched into his denim jacket, slim legs in black jeans, a mop of hair almost covering his startling blue eyes. I explain that I’m wondering if it’s wise to drink while interviewing, and he gives a small smile. “I think it would be rude not to, don’t you?” And he buys me a Guinness.

Settling in a chair at the back of the pub, he talks about Dingle, suggesting places to hear live music. “My father’s been coming here since he was a boy, so the holiday tradition goes back a long way,” he says. It’s briefly disconcerting to be sipping a pint and chatting about family holidays with the piercing gaze and paper-slicing cheekbones of the chillingly dangerous Shelby.

When Murphy leans forward on screen, someone’s probably about to die. “He has movie-star stillness,” says Caryn Mandabach, the executive producer of Peaky Blinders. “It’s when the camera loves to stay on your face, and you can just think what the character is thinking, and it comes across. You’re born to that, you can’t learn it.“When I met him for the role of Tommy Shelby, he was so slender for a gangster, I asked how he could convey the physicality of a violent man. He leant forward, looked me in the eyes and said, ‘I’m an actor’, in such a way that I backed down instantly. There’s something in his eyes.”

In Foxy John’s pub, however, if he leans forward, it’s because he’s excited, discussing Stevie Wonder’s drumming groove or how he can’t fall asleep if he’s not listening to Radio 4, or — a favourite topic — his constant grappling to understand modern notions of masculinity.His latest movie, Anthropoid, is part of that study. It’s an unconventional war film and he plays an unconventional hero. The script is based on the true story of two Czech soldiers in the republic’s London-based army in exile during the Second World War, who were sent back to Prague by the clandestine British Special Operations Executive. Their mission was to assassinate Reinhard Heydrich, the SS officer running the Nazi-designated protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia.

The operation was successful, although luck played a significant part. Murphy’s character, Jozef Gabcik, jumped in front of Heydrich’s open-topped car and began to fire, only to find that his British-supplied Sten gun had jammed. His accomplice, Jan Kubis (played by Jamie Dornan), threw a bomb, which narrowly missed. The pair fled, assuming they had failed, not realising that Heydrich had been hit by a jagged chunk of shrapnel and would die, days later, from severe septicaemia.

Unusually for an action film, the assassination comes at roughly the halfway point. The story moves on through the destruction of entire towns in SS reprisal attacks, and the horrific torture techniques the Gestapo used to drag information from civilians suspected of helping the duo, before they’re hunted down in a church.All the time, they are battling doubts about the point of their mission. Dornan can’t bring himself to shoot a fleeing collaborator, and Murphy is consumed by guilt at having recruited local women to give the pair a convincing cover story.

“Their fear and paralysis is very relatable — they’re not presented as invincible superheroes, and that was the appeal for me,” Murphy explains. “Even though it was a small act, it had huge global repercussions. But they did not have the benefit of history to see that they did the right thing. They heard that 10,000 people had been massacred because of them. Imagine trying to live with that. Are there contemporary causes you could be that committed to, that would demand taking innocent lives? I don’t know.”He wonders what path he would have chosen, might still choose, if heroic action were demanded of him. He recently saw Force Majeure, a Swedish film that’s “like a meditation on masculinity”, he says. “This father is with his family on a skiing holiday. They’re having lunch when an avalanche roars down on the restaurant. He grabs his iPhone and runs — but the avalanche just passes over. It was dust. The mother had grabbed the two children, and they watch him walk back. For the rest of the film, they have to figure out what this has done to their family, what it’s done to him as a man and as a father.”

He gives a little shiver. How to be a father is something he’s working through carefully. His sons, Malachy and Aran, are in primary school in Ireland — Murphy and his wife of 12 years, the artist Yvonne McGuinness, recently moved back there from Kilburn, northwest London, because they wanted their boys to be Irish, to live by the sea, to know their grandparents. At the same time, he worries about protecting them from the iron casket of being an Irish man.“I’m firmly of the belief that women are the superior sex. It became apparent to me pretty early on as a young man,” he says. “Men, and particularly Irish men, project this macho facade. They still find it hard to express emotions. It’s why we’re great storytellers — it’s internalised, and it comes out through great drama or after 11 pints of stout, but it’s not the default setting. I hope my boys aren’t growing up that way.”

When he was an adolescent, emotion came via music. Both his parents were in education: his mother is a French teacher, his father a civil servant in the Irish education department. “My dad was one of those people who could pick up any instrument and play it. He’s a traditional music aficionado, so we went to a lot of sessions as kids. It was my first experience with an art form that could change you emotionally.”He rebelled against his father’s tastes, preferring the Beatles, Stevie Wonder and Van Morrison, although “by the way, I also bought a lot of terrible 1980s music... my first record was probably Europe’s The Final Countdown”. By luck, Stevie Wonder’s Superstition comes on the pub stereo, and for a moment he’s lost, recalling his days in a Frank Zappa-esque band that almost signed a five-album deal with Acid Jazz Records back in August 1996. He suddenly pauses, frozen for a second, thinking things through.

“So that’s 20 years ago this month,” he muses. “That’s the month everything in my life changed. We turned down the record deal, I failed my law exams, I met my wife and I got cast in Disco Pigs... It was the ultimate turning point.” He raises his glass and we silently toast this anniversary.

Disco Pigs, Enda Walsh’s play about a pair of strange, inseparable teens on a night out in Cork, was his first proper acting job after school and student am-dram. It was supposed to run for three weeks at an arts centre in Cork, but blew up, transferring to Dublin, then Edinburgh and London, then Europe, Australia and North America. He was on the road for 18 months and, in 2001, reprised his role for the film version. That’s where Danny Boyle saw him and cast him as a bike courier battling the zombie apocalypse in 28 Days Later — which is where Christopher Nolan saw him and cast him in Batman Begins and Inception.And on and on, until his movie-star stillness and piercing blue eyes placed him in the rare position noted by Mandabach: “He’s both a movie star and an actor, and almost no one gets to be both.”

All of which surprised him completely. “I’d never seen a zombie movie before 28 Days, so I really thought they were making a film about the problem with rage in our society.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know it was a hit in America until Chris Nolan flew me over. To be honest, with Tommy Shelby, I saw it as a show about the generation unmade by the First World War, trying to figure out how to be a man... I’m always drawn to stories about damaged men.”By now, two pints down, I’m getting overfamiliar. He played a transgender foundling in search of a mother in Neil Jordan’s Breakfast on Pluto, in 2005, and an Irish republican soldier in Ken Loach’s The Wind That Shakes the Barley (2006). These feel like pioneering, campaigning roles, I say — and it’s as if shutters crash down behind those eyes. He suddenly becomes watchful and cautious. “It was the roles, really — I had no particular desire to bring the issue of transgender to the public,” he says carefully. “If that was a by-product, I’m really happy, but that was not the primary motivation. You have to be careful. You can annoy people by being righteous, preachy and privileged. And the IRA...” He shrugs. “I’m not going to be drawn onto that particular minefield.”

There’s a brief pause, then he starts gathering his things, heading back for dinner with the family. “Look,” he says kindly, “there are things I don’t like talking about in interviews — no one really wants an actor’s opinion. But also I’m wary of this whole thing.” He waves at the tape recorder. “Unburdening your soul in public. All my male mates are Irish, at ease with slagging each other off. Like Jamie on this movie — we slagged each other off all the time. With Irish men, slagging is code for love, but it’s never really articulated.”He still feels music is the safest place for him to feel emotion. “It’s much more instinctual than intellectual, and the words are secondary. I don’t think I cry at a song because the lyrics are so affecting. It’s generally the melody that gets me first.” He still plays guitar and writes songs. “Which makes me bad news at parties,” he says with a grin as we shake hands. “People ask me to play something, and all I’ve got is this thing I’m working on that no one’s heard of.

“Even in Dingle,” he says over his shoulder, “they don’t let you get away with self-indulgent crap like that.”

#Cillian Murphy #Interview

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cherrygirlystuff · 6 months ago

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Vintage Thrift Shopping for Indie Sleaze: Where to Find Authentic 2000s Pieces 🛍️

Hey there, vintage vixen! 🌟 Ready to dive into the world of indie sleaze fashion and score some authentic 2000s gems? Whether you’re channeling that iconic grungy glam or just want to add a touch of nostalgic edge to your wardrobe, finding the right pieces is key. From online vintage stores to local thrift shops, let’s explore where to hunt down those must-have indie sleaze staples.

1. Online Vintage Stores: The Digital Treasure Hunts

The internet is a goldmine for finding vintage indie sleaze fashion. These online stores offer a curated selection of 2000s pieces, making it easier to find exactly what you’re looking for without leaving the comfort of your home.

Depop: This app is a treasure trove of vintage finds and indie sleaze fashion. Search for keywords like “2000s grunge,” “vintage band tees,” or “retro denim” to uncover hidden gems. Plus, many sellers are open to negotiation, so you might score a deal!

Etsy: Known for its handmade and vintage goods, Etsy has a fantastic selection of 2000s indie sleaze pieces. Look for shops specializing in retro clothing, or search for terms like “vintage indie” and “2000s fashion.”

eBay: A classic for vintage shopping, eBay offers a wide range of 2000s fashion. From iconic band tees to distressed jeans and vintage accessories, you can find it all here. Just make sure to check seller ratings and reviews to ensure authenticity.

2. Thrift Stores: The Local Hidden Gems

There’s something magical about digging through racks of clothes to find that perfect indie sleaze piece. Local thrift stores can be a goldmine for 2000s fashion, and here’s how to make the most of your thrifting adventures.

Research Local Spots: Check out thrift stores and charity shops in your area. Stores like Goodwill, Salvation Army, and local secondhand shops often have a selection of vintage pieces. Visit regularly, as inventory changes frequently.

Know What to Look For: When thrift shopping for indie sleaze, keep an eye out for key pieces like distressed denim, oversized band tees, graphic sweatshirts, and vintage leather jackets. Look for items with that authentic 2000s vibe, including bold prints and grungy details.

Make Friends with Staff: Building a relationship with thrift store staff can be a huge plus. They might give you a heads-up on new arrivals or even hold pieces for you if you’re a regular. Plus, they often have insider knowledge on when the best items come in.

3. Vintage Boutiques: Curated Collections with a Twist

If you prefer a more curated shopping experience, vintage boutiques are your go-to. These stores often specialize in high-quality, hand-picked vintage pieces, including those coveted indie sleaze items.

Local Boutiques: Search for vintage boutiques in your city. These shops often carry a curated selection of 2000s fashion and can provide a more personalized shopping experience. Check out their websites or social media for updates on new arrivals and special collections.

Online Vintage Shops: Many vintage boutiques also have online stores. Look for boutiques that specialize in retro and vintage fashion, and explore their collections for indie sleaze essentials. Websites like Rokit and Beyond Retro offer a great selection of vintage pieces.

4. Flea Markets and Pop-Up Shops: The Hunt for Unique Finds

Flea markets and pop-up shops are fantastic for discovering unique, one-of-a-kind indie sleaze pieces. These venues often feature a mix of vintage clothing, accessories, and more.

Flea Markets: Visit local flea markets and vintage fairs for a chance to find rare and unusual items. These markets often have a mix of vendors, so you’ll need to do a bit of digging, but that’s part of the fun!

Pop-Up Shops: Keep an eye out for pop-up vintage shops and events. These temporary stores can offer exclusive finds and often feature curated selections of vintage clothing. Follow local fashion blogs and social media for updates on upcoming pop-up events.

5. Estate Sales and Auctions: The Ultimate Vintage Experience

For those willing to put in a bit of extra effort, estate sales and auctions can be a goldmine for vintage fashion. You might find some incredible indie sleaze pieces in unexpected places.

Estate Sales: Estate sales can offer a range of vintage clothing and accessories. Check local listings and auctions for estate sales that feature vintage collections. You never know what treasures you might find!

Auctions: Look for auctions that specialize in vintage clothing. These can be online or in-person, and they often feature unique pieces from past decades. Bidding can be competitive, but it’s worth it for those rare finds.

Final Thoughts, Babe: Embrace the Vintage Hunt

Finding authentic 2000s indie sleaze pieces takes a bit of patience and a lot of love for the hunt. Whether you’re scouring online stores, hitting up local thrift shops, or exploring vintage boutiques and markets, each piece you find is a little slice of fashion history.

So grab your shopping list, channel your inner vintage detective, and dive into the world of indie sleaze fashion. Happy hunting, and may you find all the retro treasures your heart desires! 🌟🛍️

#2014 grunge #2014 nostalgia #2014 tumblr #2014 aesthetic #2014 revival #indie music #indie sleaze #bring back 2014 #2014core #soft grunge #vintage

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