#leather industries of america

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue September 1, 1961

Leather Industries of America Fall/1961

vogue archive

[leviathanspain]

fucked my way up to the top

roman roy x reader

synopsis: the recent shroud of attention towards the roys lands a spotlight on you, causing you to question your marriage

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the public didn’t favor you as a roy wife. you were labeled a gold digger, virtually nobody, a poison, a cancer. it didn’t matter that your own family was rich and prosperous. not as public as the roy family was, but respected in their industry.

you had grown up with roman, for a few brief summers at least. neighboring his summer home with your grandfather’s, you’d find yourself sneaking away at odd hours to visit the sullen boy.

after losing touch, you had reconnected with the youngest roy son at a business conference that you had accompanied your father to. he was impossible to shake off after, and soon you found yourself walking down the aisle.

but your relationship behind closed doors was extremely unconventional. in the year you’ve been married to roman, you never had sex. you came close once, on your wedding night, but nothing else since. you understood him the most, and his issues with intimacy. you’d wait around for him as long as he needed, because you loved him.

you loved him more than anyone else in his life, and he didn’t know why.

roman was still roman, in the best way he knew how to be. he’ll make inappropriate comments at you in professional settings, defending it with “she’s my wife!”, or sticking his hands down your pants whenever he got cold. you never really understood his methods, but it was affection nonetheless.

although you had a history with corporate america, you wouldn’t deny that your marriage to roman had sped up your career. only because roman has insisted that you work alongside him. it was either that or not work at all.

so the media, in the raging shit storm that kendall had started, had picked you and your marriage as the weakest link, attacking you in many headlines. twitter had been worse, causing you a mild headache for weeks.

roman had assured you’d that it would all blow over, that as long as you both knew the truth, that nothing else mattered.

but it did. everything mattered.

“hey ro-“ he had answered your call before the second ring. he sounded breathless, but you could hear the bustling office environment over the phone. there was the sound of leather, assuming he moved to sit.

you looked at yourself in the mirror, giving yourself one last look before walking over to the door, “i just wanted to call and remind you that i’m going out.”

roman made a noise over the phone, “ughhhh- that’s tonight?” he looked at his watch, checking the time, “right. that’s fine, yeah.”

“ro?” you asked, a smile on your face as you heard him hum in response. “i wasn’t asking if it was fine. remember what we talked about?”

roman sighed, rolling his eyes slightly as he leaned back in his chair, “that you’re my wife, not my property…”

you laughed, “when you put it like that it sounds awful. whatever roy, i’ll see you later.” he could hear the clicking of the apartment lock, you were already leaving.

“okay, bye bye now sweetie!” he mocked an elderly lady with his tone before hanging up quickly.

on nights you’d go out with friends, roman wouldn’t go home. he would eventually find his way home around two or three am, but only because you’d call to let him know you were going home. there was no point of being home if you weren’t there.

he had done it once, but there had been a pit in his stomach the entire time. as if he was doing something wrong.

he had heard the apartment door click, and his head turned from the random late night news channel to the door. you were standing there, wavering slightly as you stepped forward.

“baby-“ you slurred, and immediately roman stood up. he walked towards you, and a sheet of concern washed over his face. “i’m sorry baby, i know how much you hate it when i drink.” you grabbed onto roman’s shoulder, hand clutching him as you tried to steady yourself.

roman scoffed, “when did i say that?” his tone turned defensive, but mainly confused.

you shrugged, “i know you do.” you let go of him and stepped towards the couch, “you get in that mood.” you had meant to sit down, but you found yourself on your back instead. you closed your eyes, swallowing thickly, “you pull away.” roman scoffed again, “y/n, im right here.” his hand grazed your face as he leaned over you. he rested on the couch’s edge, but you couldn’t keep your eyes on him.

“no- it’s not like that. everytime i want to,” you faltered, and roman inhaled sharply, “it’s like you shut down. and we’ve danced around it for almost a year and-“ your words slurred slightly but roman had understood you perfectly.

“what do you want me to say? hmm? that i don’t want to fuck you?” he got off the couch and stood up, “do you want a divorce? is that it? since we didn’t fuck you can probably get a good deal out of that, you should go fucking try it!” roman didn’t know where this anger was coming from, but he felt it come out like word vomit. and he couldn’t stop.

tears escaped your eyes and you sniffled, feeling your face heat up with embarrassment. “no- i don’t want a divorce, roman.” you shook your head as you cried, wishing the couch could swallow you up.

roman continued to spit more words at you, but you cried harder. “i just want my husband to touch me! i want to be desired- to be loved!” you shouted, words overtaking his.

“i want you every minute of every day. i wake up with you on my mind, even when you’re asleep next to me i want you. i fucking want you, so bad.” his voice dropped and he stared down at you.

you shifted your eyes over to him, and tried to stand up. roman noticed what you were doing and took your hand, pulling you up.

“have me, roman. have me and never let me go.” your arms draped around his neck, pulling him into you. you leaned into him, and kissed him roughly. roman felt himself hitch a breath before pulling away.

“i cant.” your hands dropped from his collar and you stared, speechless. “i want to, y/n. but i-“

you pushed past him, not letting him finish as you tried to stumble towards the door. “you’re a fucking coward.” you slurred, tears muddling your vision. you fumbled for the door handle, “i never want to see you again! you hear me! i hate you!” you stomped a foot as you struggled more for the door. “fuck!” you cried out, feeling defeat and heartbreak wash over you in an instant.

this feeling was crippling. closing your eyes as you slid down in defeat. you couldn’t fight anymore, you didn’t have it in you. your husband didn’t stay to linger, slipping away quietly.

the separation was taking its toll. it was starting to get noticeable to those around you. you had wished for space from roman, who had hesitated but obliged. his only request was that his family doesn’t know, and so far, they hadn’t.

but little things, questions regarding the other had raised a few flags. kendall had asked about you once, bringing up the question to roman on your whereabouts. roman had lied and said he had just seen you in your office, but kendall knew you weren’t even in the building. or when shiv had texted you to ask if you’d be joining the family to scotland, but you had to play off your absence with a separate work trip. when in reality you had no idea that roman would even leave the country.

shiv knew something was off. she was finding roman more intolerable by the day. he was more disheveled, prone to outbursts, constantly on the defensive, and it definitely had to do with you. you were his happy little pill.

as much as you wanted to keep the secret, roman made it difficult. he rarely ever saw you anymore, and he would often exclude you from meetings regarding family or work. you didn’t mind at first, until it started affecting your work. you’d have to talk to him about it, eventually.

logan had called for a meeting in his office. usually big meetings with all of the roys and close workers meant bad things. typically you’d stay out of these things and find out from roman. but you had no roman to come home to anymore, and you’d have to learn how to fight for yourself sooner rather than later.

you were the third one to arrive. kendall was already perched beside his father. you admired kendall for his ability to resurrect himself and crawl back under his father’s thumb. you respected him, but not lately. greg and tom were also in the room. their little duo was dangerous, you’ve warned roman to watch out for them.

“y/n!” tom stood up from his seat, awkwardly hugging you. you stiffened in his arms and pulled back with an awkward smile, “tom. didn’t know we did that!” your eyes slid to logan and kendall, who seemed as equally as surprised by your presence.

“sir.” you looked at your father-in-law, who’s eyes shone at you, “y/n. what a delightful surprise.” he kept his tone even, but you still smiled nonetheless.

kendall had his wits about him, for once. “what changed?” he squinted his eyes at you and you laughed slightly, “it’s nice to see you too, ken.”

just as you turned, you heard a whistle at the door, “where is everyone? you said at 11:30 right?” roman looked down at his watch before looking up, eyes settling on your face.

you hadn’t expected to see him so face to face, for the first time in weeks. he looked away slightly, cracking another irrelevant joke before walking over to a chair.

he didn’t even greet you, and that didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else. more and more flooded in, and you couldn’t stop the pounding feeling in your head even as the conversation began.

“roman!”

logan’s shout had broken you out of your daze. you blinked, eyes narrowing on the clock as you realized thirty minutes had passed. you had missed most of the meeting, and seemingly caught the end. but this wasn’t just any end, this was logan handing your husband his own ass.

you listened to roman get chewed out. you weren’t in the loop to roman’s work, and you felt lost.

logan’s insults turned into abuse. you felt your mouth go dry as you stood up, words spilling out of your mouth in roman’s defense.

you didn’t know what you had done until it was done. you were locked in a stare with logan, who was in disbelief at your outburst. you felt you face heat up and you inhaled sharply. logan didn’t say anything, but kendall had waved his hands, “alright. let’s just- end it here.” he shifted his gaze over to you but you didn’t meet his eyes.

roman stared at you, from across the room in his chair. you blinked, words faltering as you stared at him.

you didn’t bother apologizing as you excused yourself, practically running down the hall to shut yourself away.

there was a soft knock at your door. roman. it had to be roman. you felt your chest heavy with pressure as you stood up, walking over to your door. you unlocked it, but hesitated as you pulled it open.

“yes?” you peeked out, beads of sweat lining your forehead. your eyes met his and roman stared at you, “let me in.” he nodded to the door and you hitched a breath, opening the door as you stepped back.

“ro-“ without another word you threw yourself into his arms. he grabbed you tightly, reciprocating your need for affection.

“i’m so sorry.” you choked out, “i’m so fucking sorry.” you knew logan had a difficult relationship with his son, and this didn’t help any of it. logan must hate you now.

roman shook his head, “fuck that. fuck that old ass guy. it’s okay, you-“ he pulled back and you felt his lips on your cheek, “you know i would’ve done that for you.”

you hugged him tightly, and hoped this warmth would last.

[sophaeros]

arctic monkeys for clash magazine, april 2010

ON THE ROAD WITH… ARCTIC MONKEYS

Words by Simon Harper Photos by Jason Joyce

As Britain’s favourite band headed out on the European leg of their ‘Humbug’ tour, Clash discovered that Arctic Monkeys were less sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, and more cakes, ping-pong and Coco Pops…

The city of Offenbach, about twenty minutes south of Frankfurt, was once noted for its abundant leather industry, and is currently the base of the German weather service, but such claims don’t negate the fact that it’s basically a sterile, grey, typically German suburban borough. The arrival of a fleet of trucks and buses, carrying Arctic Monkeys, their crew and stage gear, heralded the notion that for one night only, Offenbach may just come alive with suitably bustling energy.

Offenbach’s Stadthalle is the smallest venue on the Monkeys’ three-week tour of Western Europe. The band have been through Portugal, Spain and France, and know how to kill time during the day while everyone works around them, building the stage for that night’s show. And so, when Clash finds them, upstairs in the Stadthalle’s back rooms, they’re in the middle of a fierce ping-pong match – the game scores being tallied up across the tour. The table, it transpires, is the band’s own, and follows them wherever they go. A set of football goals lie waiting for action, but the small white balls prove more enticing.

It’s a cold, February Tuesday, and these back rooms are where the band will spend the whole day.

Previous encounters with Arctic Monkeys have been somewhat tough – notoriously reticent and famously press-shy, there’s a tangible wall that surrounds them, which is seemingly hard to penetrate. Suspicious stares cut through you, while succinct answers frustrate you. Today, however, they couldn’t be more accommodating.

Clash sits with the quartet in the band-only room, where their personal equipment is kept in a vertical flight case of drawers, and a small fridge is at hand for cold beers. Nick O’Malley, Jamie Cook and Matt Helders sprawl on the leather couches, while Alex Turner perches on the table, often pacing the room, then escaping in search of a lighter. We’re here to talk about life on the road. What starts as an interview eventually descends into louche conversation; daft chat punctuated by much laughter. Perhaps they’re glad to see a friendly face; perhaps the monotony of touring makes them crave any respite; perhaps there’s nothing better to do in Offenbach.

Is being on tour like real life, or does it feel like you’re detached from what real life is?

Matt: It’s probably real life. It doesn’t seem like it’s too separate or miles away.

When you go home is that normality or is it just a continuation of what you do on the road?

Matt: I don’t find it hard to settle back and switch between the two.

Nick: You feel like you’re unemployed when you go home properly.

Like you’ve got nothing to do?

Nick: Yeah, or like if you’ve got a couple of weeks off.

Matt: Like school holidays.

Alex: Does that make this school then?

Matt: Yeah, but it’s like basketball camp or something you enjoy.

How do your friendships cope with life on the road? 

Matt: It’s fine.

Nick: Yeah. We know how to not annoy each other. We’ve never really had friction, because we’ve all got a similar outlook on how not to annoy people, I suppose, so there’s never really been any problems.

Alex: (Mock nastily) That’s what you think, mate.

Nick: (Laughs) I suppose if you see the same people every day, after a while you’re bound to get a bit annoyed, but as long as you keep in your mind that it’s just because of the situation and not because you don’t like the person, then you can kind of avoid outbursts that you might not mean. It’s never really been a problem so far.

Do you notice a huge cultural difference between touring Europe and America? 

Alex: Even between places in Europe. I mean, often, to be honest, certainly at this stage that we’re at, days like today aren’t uncommon, where you’re out of town and you don’t even really see where you are, as I’m sure you’re aware. But you can really tell the difference just in the show, from the crowd. We did Madrid and Barcelona over t’weekend, and last week Portugal, and they were really excitable and there was like a frenzy going on when we were playing. Whereas I think crowds elsewhere can be a bit more reserved, can’t they, depending on where it is. I reckon one of the best crowds on this tour was a gig we did last week in Porto. We’ve never played there before. There was this real appreciation or something just from the start. You can just sort of feel it, can’t you; ‘We’re all here to have a laugh’.

Alex lives in the States now. Have any of you considered moving to somewhere you’ve visited on tour?

Matt: Yeah. It’s good that you do get to see places that you might consider moving, like Berlin. I could imagine living there.

Does living apart make you appreciate each other more when you’re back together?

Jamie: [Long pause] Mmmm…yeah.

Gone are the days when you’re living round the corner from each other.

Alex: Yeah, I suppose that’s true. You’ve got to sort of organise to be in one place. I suppose that is a bit of an inconvenient drag.

Are there any essential items that you have to pack before you come out on tour?

Jamie: One of them rolly things that gets fluff of your coat. (All laugh)

Alex: I feel like you’re a lot better equipped than the rest of us with things like that.

Yeah, you’re looking very bobble-less.

Jamie: Ah, cheers. Yeah, I did it this morning actually. A quick roll.

Matt: A skipping rope – except I forgot it this time. I’ve lost mine.

Nick: DVDs, stuff like that.

A ping-pong table?

Jamie: A ping-pong table is essential actually. I don’t think we’d go on tour without that.

Alex: Some kind of series…

Matt: A box-set.

Alex: Kinda really discovered that this last year. It was summat I’d never really got into before.

Nick: Any HBO series.

Alex: (Laughs) Yeah. I’ve really learned to appreciate that sort of continuum, because you can follow a thread.

Matt: You know what you need to do the next day.

What have you been watching?

Alex: We’ve got into Deadwood a bit on the last tour. That’s what’s been missing, I think, for me on this tour, some sort of thing like that.

Have you done The Wire?

Alex: Yeah.  I went Wire mad on that tour. I just got so greedy. I get so greedy with them things.

Matt: I couldn’t catch up.

Jamie: Yeah, he ditched everyone. I got ditched on t’second series!

Matt: Six in t’morning, I could hear him.

Jamie: You’d get up and that [theme] song would be on. It’d just be crisps all over, a bottle of…

Nick: ‘Wire Beast’s been up all night again!’

Alex: ‘Where’d you get that dressing gown from?’

Jamie: Just laying there with crumbs all over him.

Have you ever had any scares at customs? 

Nick: I got searched yesterday actually.

Matt: It was your squeaky wheels, just as I’d said. I said, ‘Them wheels are gonna attract attention.’

Nick: In Germany. A very thorough search, but luckily no glove action.

Jamie: They probably wanted to mend your wheels for you.

Matt: ‘I’ve got summat for that, some GT85.’

Nick: They were really suspicious of me. They really took everything apart and didn’t put it back as neat as I’d put it in.

Alex: At this end, yesterday?

Nick: Yeah, when we arrived in ‘Munchen’.

Alex: They’re quite, like, strict, aren’t they, Bavarian authorities.

Nick: Yeah. They had a look at me belt, everything. All me case and bag. Took everything apart. Then he were like, ‘Where have you come from?’ I went, ‘Barcelona’. He were like, ‘Have you had any contact with drugs in Barcelona?’ I went, ‘No.’ He went, ‘What do you do?’ I said, ‘I’m in a band.’ And he went, ‘Ah’, and then, like, swabbed everything.

Alex: When I got in t’car yesterday, the fella were like, [German accent] ‘If you like to do drugs, do not try and do it in Bavaria.’

American customs scare me most. 

Matt: Yeah, it’s a load of questions.

Alex: ‘What are you doing here?’

Jamie: New Zealand were quite funny. We all got pulled…

Matt: We had to sit in them chairs for a bit…

Jamie: And this guy was asking us directly the last time we ever did drugs. Then someone came over who worked for us…and he soon disappeared rather fast. We were fine. (All laugh)

Alex: I’ve come to quite enjoy the American customs people. (All laugh)

Matt: They’ve always got weird names.

Alex: They’re like, [American accent] ‘So you’re in a band, huh?’ You go, ‘Yeah, yeah.’ ‘What do you do in the band?’ ‘Oh, I’m the singer.’ ‘Yeah? You don’t look like a singer to me.’

Nick: ‘Do you sound like Coldplay?’

Alex: Yeah, ‘What kind of music do you guys play?’

Jamie: ‘Do you sound like Staind?’ I went like, ‘Staind? I know them… Fuckin’ hell!’ It took me ages. ‘Yeah, yeah, we sound a bit like Staind.’ When he said it I were like, ‘Yeah, a bit.’

You’ve said before that you wanted to try and get an album out this year. Do you get any time on the road to do any work on that?

Alex: Not really. That’s a bit of a pain in the arse, not being able to rehearse and work stuff out. I don’t think I write very good songs on t’road. They’re all a bit wonky. You get back and you’re like, ‘Hmmm’.

Does it detach you from what we were talking about earlier, ‘real life’? Does it detach you from the things that you want to be writing about?

Alex: I dunno. You can still use your imagination, but I just think, yeah, in your surroundings there’s always about to be something that’s going to happen. You can’t think. I always write wherever I am, but I dunno if the things that come out when you’re touring around always have the shelf life that the other things do.

Have you got any songs earmarked for the next album?

Alex: Yeah. I mean, there’s some ideas, but we haven’t really had the chance to get out the fine toothed comb.

‘Humbug’ was a departure in sound from your previous albums – do you think you’ll continue in that direction, maybe bring Josh Homme in again?

Alex: Not sure, really. We would like to do something with Josh again – it was terrific for us to go on that adventure – but whether or not it’s this next thing, I’m not sure. And also, like, he’s busy! (Laughs) He’s got a schedule himself, doesn’t he?

You went to record over in his place, so do you think next time you’ll have him over to...

Alex: High Green? (Laughs) Homme in High Green? I quite fancy that.

Nick: He’d look like a superhero in High Green, all the bad genetics there are in High Green. He’d look amazing.

Matt: He’d be the biggest man there.

You’ve released a couple of singles exclusively through Oxfam. What made you decide to do that? 

Jamie: Laurence and Jonny at Domino came to us with that idea – a great idea for the charity reason, and then cos Woolworths and stuff had shut down, but there were always an Oxfam.

Alex: Like, in towns where there perhaps aren’t, like, an Our Price or something.

Do you have to think of more creative ways to get your records out there?

Jamie: Yeah, rather than just sat at home.

Matt: They should think about making the journey exciting – paint paths a nice colour to the record shops.

Alex: The yellow brick road.

Matt: Something that makes people want to walk to a record shop. Even if it’s just free parking. (All laugh)

Jamie: It’s just too easy to buy music now.

How do you feel as artists about the devaluing of music? Does it annoy you that you’re working hard to make something, but people can just pick it up from their friends?

Jamie: I suppose we were never in the industry when it were big money, when people used to sell twenty million albums. Has that ever happened since we’ve been around?

Probably someone like Dido has.

Jamie: Yeah, that were probably the last.

Matt: It’s like, we wouldn’t expect anything like that to happen to us, so…

Alex: I do think there is people that always will want to go and get records.

Matt: Yeah, it won’t change everybody.

Alex: I was reading a couple of months ago about there’s an idea where you won’t even have – you know like you pull songs off iTunes or whatever – but they were saying you subscribe to a database and pay to get ’em…

Jamie: Spotify, that’s what that was.

Alex: Yeah. But you can’t get them on…

It streams the music – you can’t download them.

Alex: But you can’t do that on your phone, can you?

Matt: Yeah, you can do Spotify on your phone if you pay about £10 a month. Nokia did that thing where you can just pay a monthly thing and you can have as many as you want…

Alex: The fella had a quote, he’s like, ‘There’s nothing sexy about an MP3 on your desktop’. (Laughs) He’s like, ‘There’s nothing sexy about having a subscription to a database’. (All laugh) But then you could just sort of buy a record and stand it up against your wall. Not that that’s particularly sexy, but, you know what I mean… I like things that you can stand up.

Jamie: Like you said the other day, everyone’s just gonna have an empty house.

Matt: Yeah, there’s gonna be nothing on t’shelves. Not even books now.

Jamie: No one’s got any photos anymore, no ones’s got any CDs or records…

Matt: You’ll just have a screen and a chair.

Jamie: You’ll just go, ‘Sound. This is sound.’

Matt: With nowt on your wall.

Jamie: You can just have everything [at your fingertips]; turn your fire on, open your curtains…

Alex: You’d get in it for your bath. (All laugh)

[Alex goes into the band’s equipment drawer, pulls out a giant figure of Freddie Mercury in full-on rock pose. “See, he said he likes things that stand up,” Matt says.]

Does being on an independent label give you the freedom to experiment with your marketing or promotions? 

Matt: Yeah. They [Domino] have as many ideas as us for stuff like that, like the Oxfam thing. They tend to think on a similar level, and, at the same time, if we have a suggestion, they’re open to it. It sometimes is a good thing to have a label like Domino, cos they’re experienced in doing weird stuff, and have obviously signed things that aren’t necessarily to make any money or anything, so we’ll listen to them if they have a suggestion, and vice versa. They’d put records out on tins of beans and all sorts. (All laugh)

Jamie: I wanted to do it on a conifer. I wanted to put an MP3 out on a conifer.

Matt: Or just seeds. Christmas tree seeds.

Alex: Yeah. What did they actually do?

Matt: There’s a Jewish guy, I forgot what his name is, and they did it on a kosher chicken noodle soup or something. You buy the soup and you get the code [for the MP3]. Which is good in a way, because he’s just poo-pooing the fact that there’s not much point. It’s an incentive, but it doesn’t get it in the chart, you see. It’s a give-away. So you can sell anything and just have an MP3 code on it. You can sell a car and you’d just get one song.

Jamie: But then it doesn’t count towards t’charts?

Matt: No. The Oxfam thing don’t either, does it. Only the download bit does. You’re not allowed to give away incentives like free stuff, because that’s obviously encouraging people. See, that’s the thing – people might buy the soup and not download the song. ‘I wonder if they make good soup?’

Jamie: When you see a good cover sometimes…

Matt: Yeah, you buy it for the cover.

Alex: Perhaps the epitome of that is you buying a Lady Gaga picture disc. (Laughs)

Matt: Yeah, I did. I’ve been a fool.

Alex: It’s great, cos she’s wearing like a fuckin’ box of Coco Pops or something. (Laughs)

Matt: You could buy that Freddie Mercury thing and get a Queen album, for instance. You don’t need to put it on or owt.

Jamie: You want to make it awkward.

Matt: Buy a chair. Buy a flat pack piece of furniture and you get a code for an album.

Jamie: You have to put your furniture up and send a picture to someone, then they send you the MP3.

Alex: That would make a good video: playing in a bowl of Coco Pops. (All laugh) Remember that kids programme where they used to have to go swimming in a bowl of cereal…

Jamie: Ah yeah. Didn’t they used to do something like that on The Big Breakfast?

Matt: They did, yeah.

Jamie: It were a massive cup of tea and you used to have to get the sugar lumps…

Matt: Yeah, yeah, that was it: One Lump Or Two.

Jamie: One Lump Or Two, yeah!

Alex: It would be great: kid comes down, he’s having his breakfast – Coco Pops – and then, like, Arctic Monkeys are in his cereal. (All laugh)

Jamie: Hot milk, though.

Matt: Hot milk in t’afternoon.

Alex: (Laughs) ‘Why not try Coco Pops after school?’

Jamie: (Laughs) I love that advert!

Alex: It’s the best!

Do your fans give you CDs of their bands?

Matt: They throw them on t’stage! Imagine if you got one of them in t’eye! Fuckin’ hell! Remember in America, a kid got on stage and he had a handful [of CDs] and someone had to grab him to get him off, but he threw them. So he were getting pulled away and he threw them.

Alex: I’ve been getting less CDs though…

Matt: Now they’re throwing download cards at you!

Alex: I got a pair of underpants…

Jamie: People are chucking downloads at you. You’re like, ‘What the fuck?’

Matt: People are throwing zeroes and ones at you – it’s like the credits of The Matrix!

Jamie: You can’t get any flick on a download.

Alex: They’re chucking Spotifys at me. Maybe that’s what them pants were – some sort of code.

I think it’d be a totally different sort of code! Do you listen to the music that fans give you?

Matt: I listened to one that someone gave me the other day. It just were at home though, he just gave it me.

Alex: No more than I’d wear that pair of pants! (Laughs)

Matt: It were just convenient – I were getting in me car and there’s a CD player there.

What’s the strangest thing a fan has given you?

Matt: Just in Japan – everything you get is weird! Like, a monkey hat – it left your own face in but it’s got ears and a tail.

Jamie: And sweets.

Matt: A lot of sweets.

Jamie: We once said, ‘Oh, we like these sweets’ in an interview…

Nick: There’s someone that makes baked goods.

Matt: You got a good one, where it were like a picture of you…

Alex: Yeah, I got like a diagram of myself…

Matt: A diagram, pointing at every bit, and then asking to fill in, like, what his favourite brand of jeans were.

Alex: Hand it back, and then she’d sort of kit me out.

Matt: She’d buy it all! So, like, ‘Favourite shoes? Trainers or boots?’ It would be like that. He’d fill it in and send it back and then she’d buy it. ‘Will this do?’

Alex: Back it came with this jumper that were perfect actually. She really knew me better than I knew meself.

Nick: With baked goods, I know it’s not [spiked], but you never know… It’s probably fine – it’s more than likely fine – but it is a gamble.

Matt: It’s innocent, but someone might have seen that opportunity.

Jamie: I don’t think I’m ever gonna eat a baked good that some stranger’s made. You learn about that. There is a story there…

What’s the first thing you do when you get home after the tour is finished? 

Nick: See your friends and family that you’ve not seen.

Matt: I go and get my photos developed. That’s actually one of the first things I do.

Alex: I usually pick up me guitar. Honestly. It’s a deep breath.

Later that evening, Clash is back in the ping-pong room. The tour manager comes to break bad news to the band - the curtain at the front of the stage is broken. They won't be able to make their usual grand entrance. "Ah, we've got to do it," grins Alex. Do what? "We've been saying on this tour if ever the curtain doesn't work, we've got to go on to this song." Which song? "Black Eyed Peas’ ‘I Gotta Feelin’’," Alex beams. The band are giddily bouncing around, electrified by the prospect of taking the stage to the song that's soundtracked many a menopausal vodka-stained Saturday evening's preparatory gathering.

“But when do we go on?" Matt asks.

"The rap. We gotta wait for the rap," Alex asserts.

"We should wait until "Mazel tov”,” Jamie smirks.

Ten minutes later, Clash is amidst the Offenbach crowd when the lights go out and the song bursts from the PA. A wave of euphoria swells, the irony not lost, and right on cue, just as the Peas declare, "I know that we'll have a ball", the four Monkeys stride towards their instruments.

The nineteen-song set covers their three albums - with Nick Cave's 'Red Right Hand’ thrown in for good measure. The last song before their encore is 'Secret Door’ from 'Humbug’. Just as Matt cracks the snare drum that launches the song's long psychedelic outro, cannons on the roof blast out gold and silver confetti over the joyous crowd below, proving that the Monkeys aren't averse to a bit of showmanship every now and then.

The after party is a subdued affair (well, in Offenbach it's bound to be!), with just the band, some friends, crew, and Clash, diving into the beer and nibbles on offer. A fairly drunken chat with Alex about Johnny Cash, Billie Holiday and Gram Parsons rounds off our time with the band, as they retreat back to the confines of their bus, about to depart for Dusseldor and their next gig.

Such a welcome and warm atmosphere is often rare backstage, especially with a band as celebrated as this, but the Monkeys - ever changing and ever surprising - are beginning to make a habit of defying expectations. Growing up has never been such fun.

[podiumackles]

the moments that stay (they turn out all wrong)

In which the man she could never forget suddenly turns up at her cell, but he has no remembrance of the woman in front of him. And the moments that stayed with her for decades, turn out to be her memories only.

series masterlist

CHAPTER 6

A/N: hey so did you guys know I find writing dialogue infuriating?? English isn't my first language!! apologies in advance.

Outlines: After being his sidekick in Payback for years, you-better known as your supename Fury-ended up on the same end of Soldier Boy's violence as every other person. What you didn't realise, however, was that your old team had set you both up for betrayal, right when you thought you were helping them in getting him. After decades of being stuck in Vought's testing lab, you heard Soldier Boy got out. But the man who appeared in front of your cell wasn't the man you knew.

Warnings: swearing, weed, smoking, slight mention of manipulation, and possibly wrong storytelling in lines of the canon events. I'm not that good at remembering, guys. and the boys was just kinda complicated. forgive me.

Present

The flight to America was long. After leaving the van, Butcher had led the group, including you, towards a private plane. How he had gotten that in his possession, you didn’t dare ask.

"Russia."He had told you when he was asked where the hell you were. All this time, you had thought you were in your own country—the one you were raised in, trained in.

Manipulated in. Shaped in. Lied in.

You hadn’t dared to sleep on the plane. Your eyes were too focused on the people around you, and they, in return, didn’t take their eyes off of you either. It was an endless cycle of silent distrust, like a coiled snake ready to strike at the faintest flicker of weakness.

Butcher, with that permanent sneer etched onto his face, seemed oddly at ease, lounging in one of the leather seats as though this were all routine. The others, however, shifted uneasily, side-glancing at you and occasionally muttering in voices too low to catch. They knew things about you, things you hadn’t been allowed to know about yourself. Secrets planted in you, roots twisting through your memory, leaving a tangled mess you were just beginning to understand.

When the wheels had touched down, the silence between you and the others was heavier than ever. One by one, they had risen, adjusted their coats, hid weapons or stashed them, preparing for…something. You weren’t sure what. Butcher glanced back at you as the group headed for the exit.

"Stick close," he growled, his tone hinting at the consequences if you didn’t. You rose to follow, but a thought tugged at you—the same one that had haunted you for weeks now. Why am I here? You had been trained to follow orders, to be useful. To be a fucking soldier. But now, without a team of your own, without a clear purpose, with complete strangers and a man who didn’t remember you, you felt like a weapon without a target.

As you stepped into the next van, a white one this time, the biting chill of Russia was replaced by the dry, metallic heat of the American air. And the drive was, once again, long, through silent stretches of deserted roads, a landscape that grew more barren and industrial as the minutes ticked by. A landscape way too modern for your liking.

Eventually, you pulled into a shadowy parking lot, a motel shining in its glory on the other side of it. The motel loomed in the dark like a fortress of faded neon, its sign shining so brightly, that it cast a sickly glow on the empty lot in the burning daylight. Butcher muttered something to the driver, then turned to you and the rest of the group with a thin, humourless smile.

"Home sweet home," he sneered. "Get comfortable."

He climbed out, his boots crunching on the gravel as he motioned for everyone to follow. You felt a strange disorientation, a sense that you were stumbling into a world half-hidden, a world that you weren’t quite part of yet.

Butcher led you all through a side door into a bright hallway, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and bleach. The walls were a sickly yellow, way too bright for your eyes. You heard voices somewhere down the hall, muttered and low, a constant hum that seemed to blend into the buzz of blinding lights overhead.

One of Butcher's associates—the scrawny man who you had learnt to be named Hughie—looked back at you, sizing you up, as if he was trying to decide if it would be a good idea to make conversation with you. He didn’t say anything, but his mouth opened regularly, just to be closed again immediately after.

Who names a kid Hughie, anyway?

Finally, Butcher stopped outside a door, fishing a key from his pocket. "This is where we’re holed up for the night." he grunted, throwing the door open. It was a room with multiple doors, making it almost feel like a five-bedroom apartment. You glanced towards the back of the room, where a cabinet held a single device- which almost looked like.. a TV?

The carpet looked soft, patterned with designs you couldn't quite place, and the smell was almost too good to believe. This whole damn situation was too good to believe. Nobody just gets you out of a facility with that much trouble.

Soldier Boy immediately left the main area, opening the furthest door before slamming it shut with such force that you almost flinched.

You were left with the rest of the group, the man whose accent you couldn't quite place dropping onto the couch before lighting what seemed to be a blunt. You frowned upon seeing his actions.

“Is that-“ you started, but the man cut you off almost immediately.

“Want one?”

That shit was illegal, last time you checked. How did he just light up one so casually?

“But, isn’t weed-“Once again, you were cut off before you could finish your sentence.

“Hasn't been illegal for a long time, love,” It was Butcher who had cut you off this time, a teasing smile edged onto his lips. “At least I hope it isn't. Frenchie can’t keep his hands off of the damn shit.”

Frenchie. Ah. Because he was fucking French?

A girl sat down next to him, and it was then you realised she hadn't uttered a single word all this time. But quite honestly, you didn't care. You didn't want to speak to anyone here anyway.

“Give me that.” You muttered as you reached towards the joint hanging from Frenchie’s lips, snatching it from his loose grip and inhaling the sweet drug yourself while taking place on the chair in the corner of the room.

Damn, did that feel fucking good.

“Great. Another junkie. You know how to pick them, Butcher.” The broad, dark-skinned man looked you over, a look of distrust in his eyes, with something you’d say looked like hatred.

Full-on hatred.

He left soon after the words had left his mouth, aiming for the room the furthest away from where Ben had just entered.

“Forgive MM. He’s a li’l tense.” The words left Butcher's mouth like they were rehearsed, almost like he’d had to say them many, many fucking times before.

You looked a Hughie, who had a glint of wonder shining in his eyes. And you decided you could no longer take his silent admiration.

“Just speak up, you're going to get your brain cooked if you think about it any fucking longer.”

Hughie’s face flushed, and he gave a nervous half-laugh. "Right, yeah, sorry. I was just—uh, thinking you might, you know… need anything?"

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Do I look like I need help?"

He shrank back slightly, rubbing his neck. "Well… no. But you do look, uh, tense."

The edge of his voice grated on you, but you found yourself holding back the sharp reply that sprang to mind. Hughie’s wide-eyed sincerity was almost… disarming. Not quite annoying, but close enough to be irritating. You took another drag from the joint, exhaling the smoke in a slow, curling stream that made him squirm under your gaze.

"Maybe I am," you replied finally, as the burn of the weed started to settle in, softening the sharp edges of the moment.

Butcher, sensing the tension as easily as a shark senses blood, chuckled as he slumped onto the couch on the other side of Frenchie, his arm sprawled across the back. "Best to relax, eh? Ain't no reason to trust us just yet, but might as well get comfy." He shot you a pointed look. "Wouldn't want you lashing out at us, soldier."

You stiffened slightly at that. Soldier. The word felt heavy, loaded with every fragment of an identity you’d been handed, and then dragged through hell with. But right now, you felt as if the word was used against you.

A form of manipulation you recognised all too well.

You glanced around the room, sizing each of them up—their guarded expressions, eyes flickering between caution and something sharper. Like you, they weren’t here by choice; they were pulled into the world of someone else’s agenda, their every move shadowed by doubt.

Butcher turned away, seeming to lose interest as he gestured toward Frenchie. "Frenchie, Kimiko, see if you can find us some real food. Nothing from the motel vending machine."

Frenchie and the girl gave a lazy salute, him mumbling something in French as he rose, giving you a quick nod as he passed, a spark of mischief glinting in his eyes. You got the feeling he could read you better than most, maybe even better than Butcher, but he wasn’t about to pry. They sauntered out of the room, leaving you and the others in a strangely awkward silence.

Hughie broke it, clearing his throat. "So, um…what’s your story, anyway?"

You shot him a cold look. "What’s it to you?"

He raised his hands in defence. "Nothing, just…you don’t exactly look like the type who follows Butcher around willingly."

"Right," MM added, stepping back into the room. His stare was unyielding as he glanced from you to Butcher, his shoulders tense with barely contained frustration. "Another question I’ve got too. Why’d we pick up this one, Butcher? First Soldier Boy, now Fury?"

Butcher’s smirk widened, almost enjoying the tension. "Easy, MM. Trust me, she’s gonna be useful. This one’s got a… particular knowledge."

You scoffed, crossing your arms. "So, what is it you expect me to do, exactly?"

Butcher leaned forward, that dangerous glint in his eye intensifying. "We asked your li’l friend from the past to help us with a problem. He, however, has proven unuseful at the first opportunity to fix it. Along with us, we’d like you to take down a supe named Homelander, together with Vought. Some big fish need taking care of, and you’ve got a rep that says you’re more than capable. Or, am I wrong?"

It was a baited question, but you didn’t flinch. "You tell me. You seem to know a lot about what I can do."

"Only what I’ve heard." Butcher’s tone was amused, but his gaze was sharp, unwavering. "But I figure you’ve been in the dark about most of it. They’ve kept you chained up in that facility for so long, all locked up with nothing to lose but your mind. Well, here’s your chance to earn back a bit of that freedom."

You tensed at the thought. Freedom was something you’d nearly forgotten the taste of, something that had felt like a distant memory until you were thrust into this strange company of misfits. Now it was dangled in front of you like a carrot on a stick, but you knew Butcher well enough to know it wouldn’t come without a cost.

You had fucking expected this anyway.

Fucking manipulation all over.

"So what, you want me to play attack dog for you lot?"

Butcher snorted, glancing around the room. "Attack dog, cannon fodder, hell, maybe even an ally. You’re here because you’re dangerous. I figure you’ll either find a use for that, or you’ll find yourself out on your ass. Your call."

The threat was as clear as the invitation. It hung in the air, thick and potent, as you studied each of their faces again. They were all different in their ways—MM with his sceptical eyes, Frenchie with his enigmatic grin, Hughie with his fidgeting nervousness, and Butcher with that smirk that told you he never played fair.

A sliver of something—maybe adrenaline, maybe the weed—flickered in you as you took in the group around you. For the first time in a long time, you felt the urge to fight, not for anyone else’s agenda, but for your own survival, your own questions. Maybe Butcher was right. You’d play his game. For now.

"Fine," you muttered, leaning back into the couch, your posture finally relaxing a bit as you held Butcher’s gaze, unblinking. "Who’s this Homelander, anyway?"

Butcher looked at Hughie before the younger boy walked over to you with a device you couldn’t quite place. He held it up, almost like a picture frame, but the unexpected light coming from the device burnt into your eyes.

“What the fuck is that?” You muttered in disbelief.

“A real son of a bitch, isn't he?” Butcher let out a low chuckle from afar.

“No, the fucking picture frame.”

“My phone?” Hughie spoke up carefully, as if afraid of letting off a bomb when he responded.

“That is no fucking phone.”

“21st century, uh, we got them like this nowadays.”

You would grow to hate his irritating stutter of responses. You already knew that.

Hughie held up his phone once more, and instead of trying to comment on it even further, you took the device from him with foreign precision, as if scared to hold something so far from your mental pictures of life.

As you looked at the image that was shown on the screen, you frowned once more upon looking at the man named Homelander. It was a strange feeling that went through you, almost familiar. You glanced at his facial features, slightly recognising the way his nose hung over his lips and the way his eyebrows framed his eyes almost the same as-

“Who’s he?” you asked before you could dwell on it further, and handed the phone back to Hughie.

“He’s the new Soldier boy.” Butcher answered.

“Great. Another fucking asshole leading a shit team of supes, then.” You muttered, taking another drag from the joint still smoking between your fingers.

Butcher’s grin widened as he watched you process the information. “You catch on quick, love. Homelander’s a bit more than an asshole, though. This one’s got the power of a god and the mind of a tantrum-throwing child. You think Soldier Boy was bad?” He chuckled darkly. “This one’s got a streak of crazy you wouldn’t believe.”

“Doubt that.”

Hughie, still looking slightly wary of you, chipped in. “He’s, uh… not just strong. Homelander’s got all of Vought backing him. They protect him, market him, and turn him into the perfect hero for the public. All the while, he’s probably the most dangerous person alive.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the familiar irritation bubble up. You’d been a weapon for someone else’s whims before, a pawn in a game you hadn’t even known how to win in the end. And now, here they were, trying to sell you on another mission with vague promises of freedom. Still, something about the threat of this “Homelander” stuck with you. Maybe it was the hollow rage Butcher seemed to carry in his words, or the way MM’s shoulders tensed just at the mention of the supe’s name.

But you couldn't shake the feeling about Homelander building in your chest, the confusion making its way to your mind.

Butcher leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low growl. “This ain’t about heroics, love. We’re not out to save the world. We’re out to make sure this bastard doesn’t burn it down just because he feels like it.”

You scoffed, taking another drag of the joint before you exhaled, watching the smoke drift toward the sickly yellow ceiling. “And you think I’m going to be your secret weapon?”

Butcher shrugged, unbothered by your doubt. “We know what you can do. And frankly, I don’t think Vought or Homelander would expect it. They don’t know you’re in the game now, and that’s a hell of an advantage.”

For the first time, you let the thought settle. A weapon Vought didn’t know they’d lost. You hadn’t had a chance to choose your side before, but if you were honest, the thought of putting someone like Homelander down had a certain appeal. A weapon they’d shaped, was now in the hands of the one group that seemed hell-bent on destroying them. There was something poetic about that.

You looked over at the people still present in the room, the strange, broken people you’d been thrown in with. Hughie, nervous but oddly steadfast. MM, controlled anger simmering beneath a calm exterior. And Butcher, the man who looked like he’d die laughing at the end of the world.

You exhaled slowly, letting the thought take root while glancing back at the ceiling.

“All right, then.” You grinned, feeling the old fire flicker to life. “When do we start?”

A/N: as always, feedback is appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @demodemo909 @deangirl96 @mostlymarvelgirl @n-o-p-e-never @daisydark @mxltifxnd0m @lamentationsofalonelypotato @junyjunyjunyper @yvonneeeee

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1956 Chrysler Norseman

The Dream Car at the Bottom of the Atlantic: 1956 Chrysler Norseman

Despite its sleek and dramatic styling, this Chrysler show car is remembered mainly for its sad fate: For decades now, it has been sleeping at the bottom of the Atlantic.  Here’s the unfortunate story of the 1956 Norseman. 

Throughout the 1950s, the Italian coachbuilder Ghia of Turin enjoyed a prolific partnership with Chrysler, creating many of the Motor City automaker’s most memorable show cars. Chrysler provided the designs, chassis, and running gear, while Ghia’s artisans created the hand-crafted bodies, typically at a fraction of the cost and time required in America.

However, there was at least one Chrysler-Ghia collaboration that was never officially shown to the public: the ill-fated 1956 Norseman. On its voyage to Detroit aboard the Andrea Doria, the Italian passenger liner collided with another ship, the Stockholm, and sank around 50 miles off the coast of Nantucket, claiming 51 lives. Since July of 1956, the Norseman has rested in the Andrea Doria’s hold at the bottom of the Atlantic, and a handful of photos are all that remain.

Designed under the supervision of Chrysler styling chief Virgil Exner, the Norseman showcased a number of distinctive features, but arguably the most spectacular was its fully cantilevered roof, reportedly conceived by Chrysler stylist Bill Brownlie. With no A or B pillars, the top was supported entirely by the buttress-like C pillars, aided by a pair of thin steel rods in tension at the forward edge of the panel. Other distinctive touches included hidden headlamps and floating bumpers front and rear.

The Norseman was constructed on a 129-inch wheelbase chassis—the same wheelbase as an Imperial, we note—while a 331 CID hemi V8 provided the power, coupled to a PowerFlite two-speed automatic transmission. According to Chrysler, the idea car, as the automaker called its show car prototypes, represented an investment of 50,000 man-hours and $150,000 to $200,000, while Ghia’s portion of the build consumed $15,000 and took 15 months, it’s said.

This photo of the Norseman’s cockpit, above, also provides a close look at the pillarless roof construction and the elaborate one-piece windscreen supplied by PPG Industries. Four bucket seats upholstered in two-tone metallic leather were separated by broad consoles front and rear, while the front seat backs pivoted to provide easier access for rear passengers.

Since the Norseman went to Davy Jones’ locker before it was ever officially photographed or displayed, very few images exist. (There is even some dispute about the color of the paint.) The few available photos were all taken at Ghia in Turin, including the fascinating shot below of the wooden body buck on which the aluminum body panels were formed. The rare snapshot provides some insight into the tremendous amount of hand labor required. While the Norseman and its unfortunate history are well-remembered today, few if any of its exotic features ever made it to a Chrysler production vehicle.

[emdoesstufff]

Some random headcanons for my version of the mcu young avengers

Check out my timeline and aesthetic board posts for more context behind these things. I would really love to hear anyone else's headcanons or anything they'd like to add to this.

Eli Bradley-

He was super asthmatic before becoming a super soldier, like had to carry an inhaler everywhere with him

He is technically military, but just as Patriot

Wears his and his grandfather's dog tags

You best believe he copied that brown leather jacket Steve Rogers look

He was offered a different shield more similar to the current Captain America shield, but he opted to stick with the original shield design

Kate gave him a pair of red converse for his birthday once and he wears them on missions sometimes because he thinks they look good with his suit

Kate actually got him on docs too, he has a red pair of those too

The first time he went to New York City, he was absolutely amazed, Kate took him to the best pizza place

Harley Keener-

Him and Riri are the best friends ever, Riri likes to joke that it only works because she's a lesbian

Just like he left Peter E.D.I.T.H., Tony left Harley a new version he remade of Jarvis, it's the primary AI he uses now

Whenever he tells people he inherited Stark Industries, they immediately assume that he was Tony’s biological son because he really does look like he could be

When a mission went bad once, Harley ended up getting stabbed near his chest, and instead of undergoing surgery to fix his innards, he literally just put an arc reactor on his chest, he does eventually get it fixed for real though

He hides the Tennessee accent pretty well, but if he's comfortable enough, or drunk enough, he'll let it out

Before and after they're dating, Harley buys Cassie literally anything she wants, and anything she mentions ever, she was pretty annoyed at it at first, but eventually she accepted that there was nothing she could do about it

Cassie helped him to not be one of those rich people that people are talking about when they say "eat the rich", he's actually a pretty beloved billionaire

Kate Bishop-

Her and Clint realized it was pretty hard to communicate sometimes with the deafness, so they both learned sign language, and it comes in handy in all kinds of situations now

They also gave each other matching name signals, big hawk and little hawk

She loves to wear converse with her suit and she has a purple pair she always wears, once for his birthday, she gave Clint a matching pair, and even though he complains, he still wears them

Clint gave her an arrow necklace one time and even though he didn't tell her Natasha wore one like it, she could tell it was really important to him and she wears it all the time

She's babysat Nate so many times that she's become super used to referring to Clint as dad because of it, sometimes she accidentally does it when there are no kids around

Her and Yelena occasionally bring their dogs when they hang out and Lucky and Fanny are best dog friends now :)

People always say that she reminds then of Natasha, and she has to pretend like she isn't sad she never got to meet her

Her, Cassie, and Kamala are all best friends, but they always include America in everything

Kamala Khan-

She had no idea how, but she accidentally became Nick Fury's sort of right hand man, she was just doing so much stuff for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the new avengers initiative that it just kind of happened

Fury was super hesitant of her at first, but then he warms up and actually really likes her

When Kamala wants to bring Amadeus into S.H.I.E.L.D., everyone is still suspicious of him, but Fury is reminded of another ex-red room assassin that he trusted and brings him on anyway

She gets super into working at S.H.I.E.L.D. and doesn't see her family for months at a time, she feels super bad about it, but she loves what she does so much she can't really help that happens

She kinda assumed that after a while Harley or Eli would take over as team leader, but they never do, always giving Kamala her rightful position

When she meets America for the first time, she is super surprised when she fangirls over her, but when she tells her it's because she's also a brown female superhero, her heart absolutely melts

She loves training with Amadeus, knowing he's someone she can't hurt, he doesn't say it, but he feels the exact same way

Literally no one is surprised when they start dating

Cassie Lang-

Since starting at NYU, she was arrested four times, luckily Harley had enough money for bail

The police lay off on her mostly once she starts being active with the Avengers

She's really a genius when it comes to Quantum Physics, her grandpa taught her basically everything he knows, Scott knows quite a bit about the subject, but Cassie loves to remind him that she knows more

Scott is always completely befuddled about where grumpy old man Hank goes when it comes to Cassie, she's like his favorite person in the world

She tried to hide the superhero stuff from her mom, but one time she forgets her mom is in the room and casually shrinks down like she would if she hadn't been there

She doesn't tell any of her family when she starts dating Harley, afraid of how they'll react since he's a Stark and there's always been a rivalry there, but once they meet him, they actually really love him

She has an Eat The Rich T-shirt even though the Pym family is actually really wealthy, Harley loves to make fun of her for it

She's actually really good friends with Eli, liking that he stands for America, but still always calls the government out on its shit

Amadeus Cho-

He fanboyed when he met Bruce the first time, but now he actually considers him the father figure he never had

His fighting outfits usually look like a mix between Hawkeye and the Winter Soldier

It might be a little cliche for someone who was altered by gamma radiation, but he's always had some anger issues (that Hydra loved to utilize)

His and Harley's friendship is so similar to Bruce and Tony’s it's actually crazy

Literally the seventh smartest person in the world

The older Avengers clocked that he must've had some red room training almost immediately, because he fights so much like Natasha

He told Kamala all about Alex, and she never told him, but she always kept a look out for little blond boys that were rescued from bad situations, just in case he came up somewhere

He ends up getting six PHDs throughout his time, but stops there because he kind of wants Bruce to be a little ahead of him so he'll always feel like a mentor to him

The first time he met Kamala's parents, he kind of expects to be disliked because of what Kamala has said about her parents and boys, but they actually really love him, Kamala says she's pretty sure it's because he's an Asian genius

He can ride a motorcycle and it's pretty badass

Riri Williams-

She had a HUGE lesbian crush on Shuri when they met and she just assumed it was a silly little thing, but when she learns Shuri is also gay, she's convinced she has a chance

She doesn't really get his she ended up being best friends with Harley, but she loves to mess with him

She met Rhodey once and he was a little confused by her, but she was really funny so he liked her

Harley finds FRIDAY in Tony’s old stuff and gives it to Riri to use as her suit AI, the whole team basically uses Jarvis all the time though

She goes back to Wakanda all the time and she's so active there that everyone basically knows her name

She meets Bucky there one time and she's super shocked to find out he was adopted into the royal family and the people actually accept him as one of the queens kids and T'Challa and Shuri's brother, she loves the name White Wolf though

All of the girls hang out together every once in a while (Riri, Kate, Cassie, Kamala, America) and just talk about everything that's going on in their lives

When she first meets Harley, she's still struggling to find a stable power source for her suit, and he shows her how to make an arc reactor the way Tony always did

America Chavez-

She started calling Stephen dad way before he adopted her, that was actually one of the reasons he decided to, she clearly already saw him as her father

She loves living in the sanctum because of all the weird things that just happen there all of the time

Her and Loki hang out on rooftops and lot, so Stephen doesn't know she's hanging out with him after he told her not to

After her and Loki are the closest friends, she starts always stealing his clothes, it doesn't help when people always tell her she looks good in green, Loki eventually gives up on getting her to stop

After Kamala became a public hero, America saw her as her role model because of what she represents, when she meets Kamala and the other girls, she absolutely freaks out

She loves making jokes about the last name Strange, "You're strange" "No, that's my dad"

One time Eli asked her where she gets all of her American themed clothes and rhw whole group laughed for like twenty minutes

Charles Alexander-

People always refer to his name like it's his first and last name, even though it's his first and middle name

Yelena never tells him, but part of the reason she calls him Alex is for her father (she really is a daddy's girl)

The first time he calls Yelena mama on accident, she has to excuse herself so she doesn't cry in front of her whole family

Alex loves going to visit Melina as a kid, and she absolutely adores her grandson, not believing she would ever be able to have one, even after she gets two daughters

When he's living with Bucky, he kind of accidentally becomes military with Eli, and Bucky is so proud when he see that his dog tags say Barnes, Charles Alexander

He always gets phantom itches in his metal hand as a kid and Bucky guides him through the life of being an amputee

Nobody's quite sure when he started calling the Thunderbolts Aunt and Uncle, but everyone loves it

When he grows up, Alex very profusely apologies to Bucky for being so angsty to him as a teenager, not giving him a good chance to be a father, but Bucky assures him that being angsty was the best way to let him be a father

At 13 he has an emo haircut and he always sighs and flips his hair when Bucky tells him off

Him and Yelena both kind of get rid of their Russian accents after living in America for so long, but they still speak the language together whenever they can so they don't lose it

Billy Maximoff-

He has the most mommy issues ever, like he resents Wanda so much, he's not so fond of his father either

After so long of searching for Tommy, he's heartbroken that Tommy wants nothing to do with him at first, upset that he essentially always left him in the dark and left him behind in the hex void when he got a new body

Making up with Tommy makes him so happy that he actually doesn't leave his brother's side for days

He doesn't remember any realization moment, he's always kind of known that he was gay, but basically being forced to grow up in the 80s and 90s he was always too scared to acknowledge it

Tommy always reminds him that he's the younger twin and it actually drives him crazy

He tries not to wear too much red, so he doesn't look too cheesy, but it's his favorite color dammit, he'll wear it whenever he wants

He knows the things Wanda did with her powers and it actually terrifies him about what he could do with his, even though he ends up having to do some of those things

Sometimes he says things that make Harley joke that it's like he's part robot, he never mentions that he technically is, although he wonders how much that actually transferred to the twins

Tommy Maximoff-

He actually has no idea why his hair is white, not sure if it's his powers or not, the body just came with them for some reason

He actually told Billy that he was bisexual in the 90s, but Billy was too scared to say anything then, years later when he tells Billy that he uses he/they pronouns, Billy is able to finally tell him how proud of him he is

He remembers how much he got along with Pietro and he wants to find him again, but when he finds he's dead in real life, he's disappointed at the fact that he'll never get to bond with his uncle

He loves the color green and never shys away from wearing it, encouraging Billy to wear red as well

Tommy definitely also has the Wanda mommy issues, but he likes to think that his father was innocent in the whole situation, even if Billy disagrees with him

Having to die and be born again never scared him as much as it scared Billy ( this would make a lot more sense if I actually bothered to write any of this down)

Kid Loki-

He's never really wanted to be on a team, but he does enjoy being a part of the Young Avengers

He wasn't sure about America at first, but eventually she became the only person he truly trusts and will back her up no matter what

He is actually the first person to call her Miss America, when other people hear it, they assume it's her superhero name

When America calls him Chico, he never admits that he doesn't know what it means, I mean he's Asgardian, he's never heard Spanish before

He still occasionally goes and helps out around the TVA, he likes to talk to Sylvie and Mobius, one time he even goes out to the Multiverse tree and talks to TVA Loki

The first time he meets main universe Thor, he's really sad about what his older brother never got to become, he's even sadder when he learns what happened to Hela

He's obviously super good with knives, like he can do all kinds of flips and throws, he also has a huge collection of them

After a long time of having the same horns, Harley suggests a design he could switch to, Loki pretends like he doesn't care, but he actually does take it into consideration and gets new horns

The team finds it really hard to trust him at first because of the reputation of the universe's Loki, but after seeing him fight for them and how much he supports America, they pretty easily let him into their group

[film-in-my-soul]

Hang me up to dry | 1,364 | TyrantTirade

Summary: Steve grabs the first pin on the strand and slowly clamps it down onto Bucky's inner thigh then looks back up. “But since you didn't do what you were told, now I have to show you what you were supposed to do, don't I?”

I'd Tell You Everything | 1,726 | Catchclaw

Summary: It’s not that Steve feels bad about calling a phone sex line. It’s that he feels, well, kind of ridiculous.

When I feel down, I want you above me | 2,706 | lanyon

Summary: In the twenty-first century, Steve Rogers still has inordinate difficult talking to women, or men, or anyone with a pretty face. Tony Stark suggests that he try calling a phone sex line. Under the influence of severe exhaustion, he does just that. He has no explanation for why he keeps calling, though.

But I Won't Do That | 2,726 | leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) / @leveragehunters

Summary: When Clay figured out the identity of the drugged, naked man his boss had just dropped in their locker room, his thoughts bolted for the fucking exit, leaving exactly one straggler behind: I should not be seeing Captain America’s dick. And contrary to what his boss had hoped, Clay and his single remaining thought were pretty fucking disturbed.

(see below for more recommendations!)

Up All Night | 3,598 | triedunture

Summary: Bucky starts taking benzedrine to help him stay awake through his double shifts, but it has some unintended side effects. Steve is upset by this. Until he's not.

5 times Bucky and Steve were Unnaturally Comfortable Around Each Other, and the 1 Time They Weren’t | 5,238 | WhatTheBodyGraspsNot / @whatthebodygraspsnot

Summary: "Steve gently tosses his book to the side and then places his hands on Bucky’s shoulders, kneading thoroughly against the impressively tense muscles. Bucky sighs, his eyes falling shut and mouth dropping open in a mixture of slight pain but mostly relief. “Oh fuck,” he groans, leaning into the touch. Clint snickers quietly, trying to busy himself with pouring milk into a bowl of cereal before one of his trademark sarcastic comments can escape him and make the situation more awkward than it’s already quickly becoming."

Boy Crush | 5,584 | Lasgalendil / @lasgalendil

Summary: Steve wanted—no, needed—to be that watermelon. He was dying of dehydration and Bucky’s dick was the only cure. There was something sexy about the idea of putting his head between those thick thighs, feeling the power of them squeeze around his ears— …oh. Steve Rogers /might/ have a danger kink.

Whiskey Waltz | 8,475 | botaniques (flamboyantgentleman)

Summary: Bucky’s looking at him like, god, like he’s never seen him look before. Like Steve’s really something to look at. His eyes are half-lidded and foreign, suddenly fixed on Steve, carved from the shadows that stretch down across his skin. Steve falters, swallows, feeling his lashes flutter with disbelief. Maybe this is part of the joke. Maybe he’s imagining it. Maybe Bucky is the one that’s gone crazy. “Yeah, alright,” he hears himself say, distantly. No. No, abort, don’t be weak like this. “Show me what you’ve got, Barnes.”

I’ve Been Careless With a Delicate Man | 8,987 | Paraxdisepink / @paraxdisepink

Summary: Steve lets SHIELD think he and Bucky were boyfriends so they’ll let him see the Winter Soldier in medical.

Both a Poison and a Cure | 9,298 | Duchess_On_Fire / @duchessonfire

Summary: Steve Rogers spends his days between his 9-to-5 job at Stark Industries, his dark erotic art side hustle, and his passion for the BDSM community. It might not be very common, but it's his life, and he likes it just fine the way it is. That is, until a six-foot tall, near mute, probably highly traumatized guy in full leather gear calling himself 'The Soldier' falls into his lap one day.

You're the One Who Gets Through | 9,644 | actualalligator / @actualalligator

Summary: Bucky has dipped in and out of the BDSM scene since getting back from Wakanda. He wants the dominance and submission part, but he doesn't like pain, and that seems to be a sticking point for people. Or a boundary they are willing to push. Being hit/pinched, and purposefully hurt triggers him. So he tries, has a bad experience, and walks away for a while before trying again. He meets Steve at a local BDSM club and decides to give it another go.. But he's also at the edge of giving up. He is beginning to believe that pain is necessary for him to go down, so submission and subspace or having a dominant of his own is not something he can ever have. And then Steve shows him that he absolutely can.

i find you, in a world full of stories | 10,444 | this_wayward_life

Summary: Every Wednesday, at two in the afternoon, a golden-haired man walks through the doors of the library. He always sits at the same table, his back to the wall and his feet kicked out in front of him. He takes a sketchbook and a pencil out of his messenger bag, and he sits there for hours. Sometimes Bucky will turn around to see the man watching him, a thoughtful expression on his face. The man never seems to be embarrassed to get caught, and instead always gives Bucky a blinding smile and a wiggle of his ring-adorned fingers. Bucky can never stop himself from ducking his head as his cheeks heat up, but he always gives a little wave back.

only fools rush in. | 10,604 | Ehiel / @gxneral-hux

Summary: It happens too fast. Bucky should have been quicker. More observant. He hadn’t noticed the creature’s weapons begin to take on the same glow as their eyes, hadn’t noticed the one before him poise his gun – not at Bucky, at Steve – before it’s being fired. Steve screams. The creatures turn on Bucky, but they don’t have the time. Three quick shots grounds them. White-hot rage is quelled only by bone deep concern as Bucky sprints to Steve’s side.

A Beast For Thee | 13,100 | littleblackfox / @thelittleblackfox

Summary: Love, in some way you choose God's plan can easily bruise One bone and blood mass we fuse And I can be A beast for thee -Bonnie 'Prince" Billie A Beast For Thee

an unfamiliar coast | 19,033 | brideofquiet / @bride-ofquiet

Summary: He doesn’t have a concept of how long ten years is anywhere. Not even before he’d been yanked out of a natural, linear progression. He’d been six years old once; he’d been sixteen and then he’d been twenty-six. But the breadth of time between those moments—what the hell is ten years? A long, long time. That’s all he knows.

Uncertainty of the Law | 26,892 | mambo / @whtaft

Summary: Steve didn't expect to fall in love with the lawyer looking at his painting. But he did.

The Beyonds of Mirrors | 33,049 | littleblackfox / @thelittleblackfox

Summary: by being moved I exert my empire, making the dreams of night real: into my body at the bottom of the water I attract the beyonds of mirrors... -My Life, Rainer Maria Rilke

if only you could see me (for the pie that i am) | 35,121 | bitelikefire (theoleo) / @deimoslunaa

Summary: In which Steve is the proud owner of Frost; a semi famous local bakery in D.C. And despite the overwhelming insistence that it’s about time he start dating, Steve swears up and down he isn’t ready for that. Or as of recently, just doesn’t have the time because of Mr. Barnes. The highly demanding wedding planner on the phone who keeps asking for nearly impossible deliveries and maybe Steve would like to personally strangle him. Maybe.

And Shadows Will Fall Behind | 36,820 | leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) / @leveragehunters

Summary: The world was full of things no one could have expected. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes never expected to fall from a train into decades of torture and killing. HYDRA never expected their perfect Winter Soldier's programming to shatter. And Bucky, who'd once been the Winter Soldier, who was now an auxiliary to the Avengers, never expected to look down from a rooftop in New York City, where he was keeping watch over the world's most ineffectual aspirant supervillains, and see a tiny ball of angry sunshine. Fierce and fearless, he loosed feelings in Bucky that he'd thought were gone forever. Bucky was determined to see him again. The better thing would have been to introduce himself. Not to stealthily follow him as he leapt across the rooftops, strong and agile, feet touching down like he was doing gravity a favour. The world may have been full of things no one could have expected, but Bucky probably shouldn't have been surprised when his tiny ball of fierce, angry sunshine dumped him on his ass.

Easy Work For Easy Pay | 45,779 | AustinB / @cornerficus

Summary: Bucky's working his way back up through the ranks at S.H.I.E.L.D. after a mission took his left arm and Stark gave him a new metal one. So when Fury tasks him with integrating the newly defrosted Captain Rogers into the 21st century, he jumps at the promotion.

Ain't No Grave (Can Keep My Body Down) | 107,099 | spitandvinegar

Summary: It's six in the morning, and Steve is heading out on a run when he nearly trips over a bouquet of sunflowers on the front steps of his brownstone. For a second paranoia takes over, and he kicks the flowers a little, waiting for them to explode. They don't. They also came with a card, which he picks up. The front of the card has a tasteful picture of the Brooklyn bridge at sunset. It's very nice and sedate, like the kind of card you would buy to give to your boss. On the inside someone has written a short message in big, shaky block letters. I AM SORRY FOR SHOOTING YOU. Steve sits down hard on the steps.

2024 Reclists · INBOX · Blog Updates

[vintage-london-images]

Following WW11 in the late 1940s, the fashion industry in Britain was in the doldrums. This was partly due to ongoing rationing, which made obtaining certain kinds of materials difficult to obtain.

In an attempt to kick-start the business, the men’s tailors of Jermyn Street and the West End of London devised a style based on the turn of the century, Edwardian clothing. They were hoping to sell to the young officer class who were being demobbed from the various services. Unfortunately for the tailors, the look didn’t catch on with their targeted customers and they were stuck with piles of unsold clothing. In order to get something back on their investment, they sold job lots to the menswear shops of East and South London at very cheap prices. These shops put them on display in their windows and the local working class youth took a liking.

So around 1951 a sweeping trend in fashion took over Londons teen boys. It was an adaptation of Edwardian romanticism which included tailored velvet blazers and button down shirts coupled with drainpipe jeans or trousers, skinny ties, and chunky leather shoes. Top off the outfit with a quiffed up hairdo, and you have the look of a classic Teddy Boy.

It was the newspaper The Daily Express that coined the term "Teddy Boy" in 1954 by shortening Edwardian or Edward to Teddy and the trend started to sweep the nation. These fashion-forward working-class teens had their roots firmly secured in music and dancing. Their style was closely identified with their youth and Teddy Boys built their culture around Jazz and skiffle music. However, when early rock-n-roll entered America's scene and crossed the Atlantic with the likes of Jerry Lee Lewis, Gene Vincent, Elvis, and Buddy Holly, the Teds found their true sound. The trend finally fizzled out in the mid sixties but later posed a comeback and is still popular today.

Please check out other posts with hashtag #video on @vintage-london-images

[anonameisadditions]

So You Want To Write #2: The Roguish Type

It’s the 1930s in America, and the world is a dim, grimy place. Gone is the Jazz Age- with slick art deco, free-flowing illegal liquor from every speakeasy across the nation, and get-quick-rich schemes smothered under The Great Depression. The Great American Experiment seemed to be over- the rot in the once-great society (In the eyes of the vastly more empowered Caucasian men of the time) had become septic, and foul. The banks had shown themselves just as greedy and selfish as the average American, failing to properly plan for an economic bubble burst and ending up going insolvent within days of the economy crashing. The entire country would be placed out of work- the great boom of industry transformed into a sputtering, dying foghorn in the mist. It is no shock that in this era, our art would turn mistrustful, angsty, and depressed. And nowhere would this deep illness be reflected so cleanly as Film Noire.

These films- seedy, provocative crime films based around smoking, whiskey-swilling private dicks, and smoldering, vicious women would depict the dynamic of a dying society- a place where the police were rotten, the men weak, and the women hard. This is the environment we associate with the icon of the film noire- The private eye.

A “good” man, in a matter of phrase- for they always had some canny sense of right and wrong, a belief that their work was making life truer for someone. But, they’d be shaken- a dame, a woman worth trusting, beautiful and convincing, would lead them astray, tricking them into a deadly tango of treachery that would have them once again asking- Is it worth it to be good in a world that’s so bad?\

In steps The Man Who Knew Too Much.

“The Man Who Knew Too Much” is the common DNA of the modern rogue, in our modern conception of one. It stars Leslie Banks- a man known primarily for playing gruff, menacing bad guys across the pond at this point- and casts him as a leading man. He’s a brawler. He shoots first and asks questions later. He puts himself up against terrible odds- an entire criminal conspiracy to destabilize the political situation in London- and steps through with candor and charm, at each step along the way. He gets way too involved with a situation and ignores all rational advice given to him by the police- all because he trusts himself more than he trusts any institution.

And the audience EATS THIS UP

“The Man” becomes an instant classic, and Hitchcock begins to truly accue stateside appeal- and this only gets refined in his spy-fiction follow-ups, the best known being “North By Northwest.”

What’s the point of this brief history to the topic at hand- The Roguish Type, and how you want to write them? Everything. Because to write is to render fat from meat- it’s to understand how society changes a story as society adapts to it, to understand the underlying psychological underpinnings of motivation that makes an audience resonate with an archetype. And none is as misunderstood and spiritually confused as “The Rogue.” A scoundrel, A criminal, a scumsucking mouthbreeder who sits below the expectations of society- he flits from job to job, obliged to no one but himself- a modern cowboy, perhaps, but without an obligation to protect anyone but themselves. Within the rogue, however, lies an exceptionalist ideal we all wish we could live up to- the idea of innate goodness. 

Art from 2nd ed. Dungeons and Dragons, Kyle Punk and Tim Shepard

Prince Of Thieves

When we refer to “rogues”, the Jungian ideal in our world is drawn to the Tolkienesque, fantasy-focused interpretation of a rogue- a man bundled in leather, with a meaty look to him and a small, sleazy smile. He plays with knives, idly- using the point of his blade to clean out under his fingernails, suggesting a propensity for violence, and skill with a dagger. His eyes size you up and down, boldly, questioning whether a quick robbery could solve some problems that need solving, right, bub? 

But then we see him act. He joins our merry caravan, the rogue- this criminal outcast, this thief, this reject- and we see that he’s more than some petty criminal- he’s a self-styled robin hood, who won’t screw over people he likes, and will actively target those he doesn’t- but he' never given someone something they didn't have coming. He’s a self-styled anarchist- a true believer in individuality, who smiles and accepts the dog-eat-dog world of the undercity- and yet, this dog only eats a meal worth having. This “Robin Hood” didn’t need an education, a religion, a cause, or a care to be good to people- He only needed his wit. 

When Indiana Jones goes deep, deep, into the jungles of some tribal colony to steal their precious Incan gold relic, he does so to do… what? Sell it to a museum? He’s certainly making a buck off this. But, Jones is then contrasted to what a man like Beloq is- unprincipled.

A true asshole, willing to work with Nazi’s as long as they pay enough. He is quite rich from this-- His resources are plenty, his palette refined, his Jordan’s unsoiled. But then, as you see them interact, you realize that Jones and Beloq could not be more similar- The only thing stopping Indiana Jones from exceeding Beloq- no, what makes Beloq unable to win against Jones, with it’s final act, is the fact that Jones, despite his bad behavior and bad traits, still desires to be good. 

This is where I draw the core concept you must adhere to in “The Rogue”. Within our society, we have a strange relation to criminals. Our court system’s biggest inherent flaw- by design- is that ultimately, a jury of your peers will be the ones to convict you. We use this concept because we believe that a man must be considered a true criminal, a malintented traitor, worthy of punishment. This is why the jury must be convinced of the fairness of the charge to cast judgment on the offender, and why we don’t treat manslaughter and murder the same. Criminality is not inherently defined by breaking the law- it is defined by breaking the law for reasons that the state views as invalid.

Some say power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. But the rogue presents a different hypothesis- that one can use the tools of evil and still be good, as long as they can keep their moral code intact. This places the rogue in the place of the outsider- a common character used to question societal norms with pluck, determination, and humor. 

Examples? Right. Examples.

Look, Your Worshipfulness, let’s get one thing straight. I take orders from just one person: me.

Han Solo occupies an interesting role in the first Star Wars film. He’s a smuggler who’s working under the boot of a powerful fascist army, driving a spaceship that’s widely considered one cherry vehicle, and shows a reluctance to get himself involved with the fleeing Luke Skywalker and Obi Wan. His introductory scene- the infamous “Han shot first” under-the-table pistol blast helps establish Han quite well as a rogue, using an unscrupulous and dishonorable trick to remove an obstacle in his path. But as Luke spends time with Han, so do we, and we start to realize there’s more going on in the heart of this smuggler than he lets on. He implies a background working with the resistance, several times through the film; He quickly bonds with Luke like a big brother. What’s most important for this roguish character, however, is the clash of sentimentality and practicality. Han Solo denies an opportunity to work with the rebellion to strike a major blow against the empire, in what is considered practically a suicide run. But, in the last moments of the film, while Luke is left to perform the trench run, alone, Han Solo comes back, with a quip and a cheery face; For the rogue, despite his dog-eat-dog psychology, sentimentalism and heart is why he lives to fight another day. 

"It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside."

If you thought for a fucking second i was going to use Benedico Cumshlupper or whatever, you have a lot to learn about me.

Hows this for a head teaser? It’s often easy to forget that Sherlock - the insufferable, upper-class advisor for all manner of criminal mystery - is, as accounted by the original short stories and novels, the roguish type. Consider- Sherlock seems to regard absolutely zero importance to the laws and rules of polite society, making an absolute terror to his landlord, doing large sums of illegal narcotics to stave off boredom, and generally treating the police as ineffectual at best and annoying, abusive bullies at worst.

Sherlock may be better off than the average rogue, but do not be mistaken- His interests, as selfish as they are, are still interested in helping his fellow man. Most Sherlock stories have Sherlock professing a lack of care towards the problems of “average people”, save for the mystery- yet most of his stories end with a brief segment of sentimentality, of Sherlock making right what was wrong often at personal expense, and recognizing the humanity in the poor souls who come to him, seeking his help. Sherlock utilizes both the concept of authority and breaks the law to bring justice and truth to people- despite his assurance of having nothing but self-interest in mind. 

"ARGH! The common language doesn't have enough swears!"

Chilchuck, from Dungeon Meshi allows us to explore this tendency further. Chilchuck fits our archetypical rogue- a highly skilled, vaguely illegal operator with a focus on the fine arts of thieving- mainly lockpicking, athletics, trap navigation, and other roguish skills. But while Chilchuck doesn’t typically encompass the criminal miscrent side of the rogue, he does showcase the other commonality between the last few examples- the eruption of sentimentality. Chilchuck constantly comments on how he shouldn’t even be working with the twins, and empathizes, again and again, that there is no possible way that he’s going to stick his neck out for his party beyond what he’s being paid to do. Yet, what does Chilchuck do every time the situation gets tough? He runs to danger. He only threatens to leave when he feels his concerns are unheard by Laius about the state of the adventure. Chilchuck can pretend all he wants that he doesn’t care about anyone but himself- but actions speak louder than words. 

Conclusion

The identity of the rogue is based in a rejection of the concept of nature vs nurture in a work of fiction. The Rogue, despite his background in skullduggery and criminality, showcases an intact moral compass that even the most polished wonderboy can recognize as a heart of gold. He exists in this environment to prop up an element of heroic fantasy- the belief of innate goodness, that one can utilize the powers of evil for the purpose of good and avoid letting it corrupt themselves too far. They work in contrast to other, more pure-of-heart characters to exemplify that circumstances don’t always make the man- and to let us, the audience know that we didn’t need to grow up a soft-eyed farm boy or be promised a great destiny to make a difference- only have our hearts in the right places and to do what we can to make evil lose. If you liked this blogpost, Give it a reblog and a like, and don't forget to follow me for more media analysis and creative endeavors. Below, you can vote on the focus of my next entry in "So You Want To Write" series.  

Yours Paradoxically, 

AN0N

[wolfalder]

What would you consider to be an ethically sourced tail? Where might somebody purchase an ethically sourced tail?

Thank you so much for asking!!! 🐾

Personally I believe It should either: Be sourced as a by-product of the food industry, Transform a waste product to give it value, such as the reclaiming fur from animals culled for environmental management, Minimise waste by re-manufacturing vintage pieces or using surplus manufacturing material, instead of only using new material. There are other options such as taxidermy from ranched animals which were stillborn or died from illness or other natural causes. Byproducts of roadkill, pest management, and wildlife population control which are done in a sustainable manner that keeps the natural population at a healthy and maintainable level. Also if there is no unnecessary pain or cruelty that’s inflicted and killing of said animal involves minimal waste and has a purpose other than simply their fur.

And I know there is the argument that we don’t need to kill animals to make clothing because of course there are other materials to keep us warm, but the best of them (wool, down, leather) also come from animals. Meanwhile, most synthetic fibers (including fake or “faux” fur) are derived from petroleum, a non-renewable resource, the extraction and transformation of which entails serious environmental risks.

In many regions, wildlife populations must be culled annually to maintain healthy and stable populations, to preserve habitat, to protect endangered species (e.g., by culling predators that attack ground-nesting birds or sea turtle eggs), and to safe-guard human health, livestock and property. If furbearer populations must be culled, surely it is more ethical to use these animals than to discard them?

Farmed minks manure, soiled straw bedding and carcasses are composted to produce organic fertilizers, to enrich the soil and produce more food, completing the agricultural nutrient cycle. Biofuels made from mink remains now power buses in Aarhus, Denmark, the world’s largest producer of farmed mink. Similar projects are being tested in North America.

Now after all that here are some options for furs/tails. Though please do your own research into each small business or company you buy from.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/SterlingFoxTaxidermy

https://www.etsy.com/shop/ChimeraTaxidermyAU

[midnightsun-if]

Since I’ve caught up in all the Cienna asks could you make a mock post of what her game would like? I need my ceo romance

The smell of freshly ground coffee wafts from the open doorway of the break room, faint murmurings of conversation an undertone as your coworkers huddle over it— readying themselves to start their day.

You don’t pay them much mind, only offering slight nods of greeting to the people you pass, as you make your way towards the little hallway off to the side of the main room; one that led to a small waiting room that held three things: a sturdy oak desk, a simple sitting area, and an imposing door that led to an office that overlooked the skyline of Manhattan.

Settling into the plush leather of your chair, booting up your computer, and getting various papers organized, were the first things you did upon arriving every morning— not wanting to lag behind in the hectic world of corporate America. Especially not when you were the Secretary, a nice name for personal assistant, to the CEO of Viridis Industries, and needed to be on your A-Game at all times.

Working here for the last six months has taught you one thing at least— Cienna ${surname} is the best at what she does, and trying to keep up was a job in itself. Making the last few months pass in almost a whirlwind of meetings, lunch rushes, and near paper cuts.

Making the reason you took this job be pushed to the back of your mind:

[Choice]

Information. You’re the upcoming CEO of a rival corporation and the only way you can take over is if you find something that’ll finally put your company over the edge.

You’d been looking for something new— You’re used to working in this sphere, but not for a boss that actually cares.

You used to work on the lower floors of Viridis, this promotion had been offered to you, however. Taking it seemed like a no brainer.

Honestly? You have no idea how you even got this job. It was a stroke of dumb luck.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

As Southern Brazil Floods, Leather and Footwear Industry Hits ‘Peak Crisis’

As persistent rains in Brazil‘s flood-stricken southernmost state show no signs of letting up, sussing out the extent of the damage remains a challenge.

Parts of Rio Grande do Sul have been inundated with more than 25 inches of rain this month alone, according to national weather service INMET. More than half a million people have abandoned their homes in search of higher ground and 147 are confirmed to be dead. Another 127 are reported missing.

Two weeks after a torrential downpour caused the Guaiba River to hit historical peaks, burst its banks and breach the state capital of Porto Alegre, the arrival of fresh bouts of rain is causing its levels to rise again, threatening a deeper and more deadly deluge.

Little, if any, cotton is grown in Rio Grande do Sul, an agricultural hotspot that’s home to a population of 11 million. But the state is a major cattle producer and leather processor, said Silvio Moraes, regional ambassador for Latin America at Textile Exchange. It’s also what he describes as one of the “main national centers” for footwear manufacturing, textile spinning and weaving, and garment manufacturing.

For the shoe and textile factories that are traditionally located along rivers, “peak crisis” could be an understatement, Moraes said.

Continue reading.

[hekateinhell]

#vcsmuttysunday: Armand & Daniel explore the Adult Entertainment Industry in the 1970s

I think it's more or less established fanon at this point that Daniel and Armand had a fun time experimenting with what the burgeoning sex industry had to offer in the late 1970s and early '80s (I place at least half of the blame on this comic). But sex shops really started taking of in Europe and North America in the '60s, '70s, and '80s! As far as I could find, London's first 'modern' sex shop opened in 1972 — five years before Armand and Daniel moved to London and lived as a couple in the city. Manhattan - where they later went - was infamous for having a strip of pornography theaters and all kinds of XXX entertainment spots in Times Square.

Here's some of the things they might've found in the sex shops back then, the ordinary and the not-so-ordinary:

(NSFW BELOW THE CUT)

Vibra Bed

It was a vibrating device that you attached to your bed and it turned the whole thing into… a vibrator. Armand absolutely bought one (or two or three) of these and probably made Daniel hump the vibrating mattress to completion while he watched. Their neighbors hated them.

Hitachi Magic Wand

Most of us have at least heard of this one that's still a best-seller today, but 1977 was when it really took off! I think Armand would've found it somewhat of a novelty to be able to bring Daniel to orgasm without using his hands or mouth directly. The vibrations alone would do it pretty fast, especially when placed along the perineum and the head.

Speaking of finishing fast...

Strain Loops

Cock rings in general became super popular during the sexual liberation phase of the '60s and '70s (people wanted to stay hard longer during anal sex), but I'm highlighting this type in particular because I hadn't come across it before and I just saw it mentioned in reference to vintage sex toys. Imagine Armand looping that around Daniel's dick and balls before he makes that boy hump that vibrating mattress a second time.

Novelty Handcuffs

This one I'm listing simply for my sake, because I think human Daniel (and vampire Daniel lbr) would get such a kick out of literally chaining a powerful vampire like Armand to his bedpost with the kitschiest bright red handcuffs!

And now - remember what I said about adult theaters in NYC earlier? Well, here's some of the movies they could've caught (and one of the places it would've been socially acceptable for Armand to whip out Daniel's dick out in public and do things to it, which he did).

Not saying Armand didn't buy Daniel leather shorts after seeing this and made him wear them everywhere for the next two weeks, not saying he didn't.

LIVE SEX ACTS.

Imagine Armand making Daniel get on that stage and put on a performance of his own! Maybe Armand joins him, maybe he doesn't (it would be Armand's first time in the spotlight since he seduced Louis in Paris - shame that was a performance of an entirely different nature... well, perhaps not to a vampire, huh?).

Grope-rooms are once again exactly what they sound like: you went there to grope other people and get groped. Bet The Dancer joined them more than once.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy that tiny slice of sex history and that it inspires some smutty vampire thoughts of your own!

X

[omegaremix]

Killing Joke / Pig @ Irving Plaza, N.Y.C; September 12, 2018.

When was the last time I visited Irving Plaza? Ten years ago, when Ministry supposedly had their “farewell” tour. That show opened my eyes up to Meshuggah who turned the entire place insane and a forgettable opening act not worth mentioning. Now, we’re the gatherers as Killing Joke puts us. Next year celebrates 40 years as a band and are currently performing the Laugh At Your Peril Tour through the Americas and Europe. They stand as one of the few acts in existence that have played together for this long and never slowed down or lost power. The miserable humid weather of light drizzle and grey skies could never dampen the audience down for what unfolded.

I assumed it would be only Killing Joke’s time to shine. I had no idea there was an opening act. Here’s a lead singer who comes on stage dressed in an odd get-up, all black head-to-toe. He’s also wearing a silver leather jacket with super-long tassels hanging down from his arms, a flat pilot’s hat, sunglasses, bondage over his privates, and thick black boots. I had zero idea who the opening act was until he shouted “we are Pig!” Really? It’s Raymond Watts himself. What a surprise. Watts / Pig has been a classic and go-to industrial staple during the Wax Trax era. It’s great to hear he’s still performing without a hitch. With his time in KMFDM, “Juke Joint Jezebel” was not an option but a necessity. He performed another big hit in ”Secret Skin” and also preached everything about (sin, sex, and) salvation. He’s wearing the priest’s collar, after all. One good thing about Watts / Pig was his presence: direct, communicative and in many times pointing to his fans (salvation, people); moving, gyrating, and swinging to the tune of his industrial sound and his affinity for stage, orchestra, and cabaret. This is one industrial artist I’m familiar with and still should’ve been more into by now, even despite having one of his titles in Sinsation for some time.

Killing Joke took the stage with a wonderful welcome from the New York City crowd. The entirely original gang of bassist Martin “Youth” Glover, guitarist Geordie Walker, drummer Paul Ferguson, and lead singer Jaz Coleman were very happy to see us as well. They reformed as the original unit before the Absolute Dissent-era so the 40th anniversary is a milestone meant to be. All throughout the night they culled songs, switching from almost every album demonstrating their versatility in punk, dub, industrial, and metal while always staying close to their politically and socially charged message.

They kicked off the 95 minute set with one of their key hits “Love Like Blood” and jumped 25 years into “European Super State”. They went back to the classics with “Eighties”, another familiar one for us gatherers, then forward again with newer songs with “New Cold War” from Pylon. But you can’t make it an anniversary show without going back to where it all started: their 1980 full-length debut which they played five songs from. “Requiem” and a harder live version of “Wardance” were absolutely included. It wasn’t until “Butcher” where the audience furiously broke out in mosh pits. Three cuts from their self-titled 2003 record kept the energy going all throughout, first with the rugged “Asteroid” and also included “Loose Cannon” and “The Death And Resurrection Show”. An hour and 14 songs later, Killing Joke re-treated backstage but came out for a five-song encore that sealed the extended deal.

For an outfit that started and regrouped again in 40 years, they look modest and much healthier than most bands that went that long. Starting with the 1980 self-titled debut to Pylon, Killing Joke’s sound has gotten stronger and more powerful by each record. What truly made their arrival a sweet one was not only in their songs but in themselves as a unit. Witness them in person and you see how gracious they are to perform for their fans. No attitudes, no egos, no pretentiousness. All smiles. You know they were all happy to be there and were extremely appreciative. They show their thanks through great shows, retrospective deluxe sets, and being personable because they know their supporters helped them carry on for all this time.

And then there’s Jaz, whose scraggly looks show his frightened and mesmerized on-stage presence for all to see. That’s Mr. Coleman for you. He’s also jovial, too. His stories of how he once was an unhealthy alcoholic mess that became “Loose Cannon” to Youth’s time dee-jaying industrial clubs in a grittier more dangerous New York City garnered guaranteed laughs from all of us. Most importantly, he also championed personal freedom for all. It’s that integral message from their socio-political themes that’s most essential in these states’ uncertain and tumultuous times. Those messages are what the fans identify with and it’s why they love them so much.

It was one of the busiest shows I seen. Almost not a single square foot of standing room spared and neither were the VIP sections or all sides of the upper balcony. The energy was loud and constant in-between songs and (again) Killing Joke was in great spirits. The grey misty weather would make all of us miserable. Killing Joke’s presence was so great that it lifted all of us out of it.

[darthkvznblogs]

Honestly, the mha characters in the kverse would probably be very different considering the plight of mutants, the world being new to heroes in general, and the can-of-worms that is Japan's anti-vigilante laws.

Definitely would be some changes in store, that's for sure.

Just to clarify, it's not so much that the world is new to heroes - people with superpowers have existed for ages - it's just that, before Captain America, they used to be much more of a...local phenomenon, if that makes sense. Not just in terms of mass media not being a thing, so most people wouldn't hear about the vigilantes operating a state over, but also the fact that most heroes operated from the shadows, under cover of night, that sort of thing. Vigilantism has been illegal or at the very least frowned upon in most places, regardless of superpowers being a thing.

In that sense, you could say NYC's vigilante scene is more "traditional"; people knew about Daredevil, no doubt, but the farther away from NY you get, the less likely you'd be to think much of the lunatic acrobat in the red leather getup and his rather hard to believe exploits. The Avengers are changing the paradigm by being extensively public figures with world-class PR (courtesy of Stark Industries) who teamed up to fight off an actual alien invasion. Superhero teams just weren't a thing beforehand.

[all-risejd]

I Can’t Do This Anymore

Warnings: The Judgment Day, Kinks (variety), polycule, Axiom did not approve of this, crack, plot what plot, oops, mentions of aftercare, mentions of lube, nudity, anal, awkward situations, mile-high club

1. Prelude - Axiom gets a promotion

Axiom stood stock still staring down at the piece of paper he’d been handed by a member of the Creative team. Shawn AND Hunter wanted to see him. He was either getting fired or an opportunity worth his weight in the division. They were relatively close to the Draft so maybe, maybe, he was getting a call up to Smackdown. That would be nice. He wasn’t sure how he felt about moving away from the friends he did have in NXT but he didn’t want to disappoint anyone. Frowning, he hurried to find the office in the arena. 

Hunter and Shawn were both behind the desk, the pair looked up at him as he entered. “Axiom, glad to see you!” Shawn smiled, “We have a potential career advancement for you.” 

Well, that sounded better, “We want to bring you up to RAW, potentially.” Hunter explained, “We want to start you with a trial run with The Judgment Day.” That was not what he expected, he thought for a moment that Hunter had wanted him to join LWO, which, given his whole masked persona made sense. But nope, it was the Goths. Axiom cocked his head to the side, clearly confused. Hunter chuckled, “I know you were hoping for the LWO, but we think you’d be a great fit in Judgment Day.”

Axiom cocked his head to the side before he nodded his head, “Alright, I uh, ok.” He shrugged, “When do I start?” He asked softly, still a little confused, “And do I need to change my gear?”

Shawn chuckled, “You need to go with black gear, for now, we aren't sure if you will uh, get any TV time, but for the first two weeks we just want you traveling with them.” Shawn cleared his throat as he pushed a folder toward him, “These are the latest spending accounts for The Judgment Day, we know you are good with numbers, so we’d like you to review their spending accounts, and get back to us.” Axiom nodded his head as he took the binder, and headed back out of the office, with the sinking realization that he wasn’t performing tonight. 

2. Axiom reviewing the spending of the group

His first night ‘on the job’ Hunter wanted him to review everything the Judgment Day members bought regularly. He spent a long time highlighting different purchases that he felt were… odd. Thirty-three separate handcuff purchases, nineteen Mami collars, seven industrial bottles of lube, three rather odd industrial chain purchases for seven feet in length, what amounted to seventeen mini-feast in hotel rooms across America, and several purposes from a Leather Dom Shop, that after googling had him panicking about his apparently vanilla lifestyle and sex life. He flicked his gaze upward to see that this was only a monthly total of their accounts. What the hell had he agreed to?

3. Axiom asking about handcuffs

He slid into the outside seat on the flight, and looked between Dominik at the window and Rhea in the middle. “I have counted thirty-three handcuff purchases. I’ve reviewed the footage from recent RAW and SmackDowns, and you’ve only used three sets on television, exactly where are the other thirty.”

Rhea snatched the papers, and pointed at a singular purchase, “Bolt cutters.” She said things like that explained anything. Axiom gave her a long, patient look, she continued on, “We can’t seem to keep up with the keys, so like Dom and I will be… having a night in.” He was so relieved he was wearing a mask he could feel the flush on his cheeks, “And we like to play with the cuffs, but then I… uh, we can't find the keys.” 

“So you cut them off?” Axiom asked.

Damian leaned forward from behind them, “I once had to go to a Harbor Freight in the middle of the night to pick up those bolt cutters, because Rhea had his ass up, shoulders down, hands behind his back, naked, and couldn’t find the keys.” 

4. Axiom asking about Mami collars

He had tried to get Rhea to answer his questions but the woman was infuriatingly good at ducking him, Damian and Dominik had turned out to be openly sexual with no problems, so Axiom opted to go after Finn. “Hey, Irish?” Axiom caught the man by his arm - he hadn’t had a chance to really spend that much time with him. 

“What do ya need, lad?” Finn asked, clearly in a hurry.

“I’ve been going over the reports…” He indicated to the papers in his hands, “In the last thirty days you had to purchase nineteen different collars with MAMI on them?”

Finn gave him a rude look, “Look, buddy, you are welcome here, as you know, but there are some questions you shouldn’t ask-”

“I’ve watched the RAW and SmackDowns…” Axiom started, “And I’ve counted eight possible collars-”

Finn ran a hand down his face, clearly irritated, “Look, she breaks them, ok, either in the ring, or when she and Damian are playing, he tugs on our collars.” Axiom almost asked about the our but decided that he didn’t need that information, “When the letters pop off, it’s cheaper to replace the whole thing then the letters.”

Axiom felt his face flush under his mask, as he thought about his next words, “Ok, thank you… for that, should I be on the lookout for other collar purchases?”

Finn blinked, “No, mine is leather, and Dom’s is a cute little velvet thing. We have bells on ours, not our name.” With that the man turned and stalked away, leaving Axiom awkwardly bouncing from one foot to another. He thought about texting Hunter, because this was maybe getting out of hand - he couldn’t tell if they were being honest or not about these purchases. 

5. Axiom asking about industrial bottles of lube

Hunter had asked him to hurry up with the itemized reports. It was nine in the morning, a perfectly reasonable time to be up and out of bed, he’d knocked on the door multiple times, when no one had answered, he’d opted to go down to the front desk, and based on him being the ‘manager’ of the Judgment Day (at least on paper) he got a room key for the hotel room he thought belonged to Damian.

He should have listened harder, he adjusted his mask, slid the key card into the lock, and pushed the door open - Finn’s back was the first thing he saw, sweaty and muscled, as the man on his knees bounced up and down on Damian’s lap. It took a full minute for Axiom to connect the dots - Finn was riding Damian, the sheets pooled around Finn’s hips, “Fuck.” Damian hissed, as he caught sight of Axiom, pausing his hips, and sighing.

Axiom blinked rapidly, unsure for a moment, “Hey, Damo can I grab the-” Rhea paused as she emerged completely naked from the bathroom, “-lube.” She gazed at Axiom, “Are you joining? Did you invite another boy into the bedroom without asking me?” 

“Nope.” Finn and Damian said at the same time. Rhea shrugged her shoulders, stalked across the room and grabbed one of the seven industrial bottles of lube that Axiom had meant to ask about - there were strawberries and kiwis on the front label. “What are you doing, lad?” Finn asked, curious.

“Mami, I’m colllllld.” Dominik whined from what Axiom assumed was the bathroom.

“I’m coming Dom Dom, Axiom has a question.” Dominik loudly whined, Damian made a motion with his hand indicating that Axiom should ask his question. Rhea shifted her weight, “So?”

“Uh, I don’t need to ask, I can see what you use it for.” With that he quickly retreated, slamming the door, and rushing down the hallway to his own hotel room, he tossed himself into it, locked the door, and threw himself face down on the bed, screaming - why the hell did they all have to be naked and comfortable. 

6. Axiom asking about industrial chains

For once Axiom had managed to be the passenger rider in the ‘travel’ SUV. Finn and Rhea had both flown home to visit family, so right now Axiom was riding with Damian (who was driving) and Dominik who was stretched across the backseat, playing Candy Crush on his phone. “So, you know I’ve been reviewing what you, uh, collectively have been spending money on.” 

“Right.” Damian hummed, “Find something interesting?”

The way he said it made Axiom a bit worried, was there more interesting things in their past? Should he be looking at previous month purchases? What was this man about? He cleared his throat, adjusted his mask, when it had gotten so hot in here, “There were three purchases for industrial strength chains, seven feet in length… ordered over a three week period.”

“One was for hitting my dad, but Bunny got in the way.” Dominik offered, “One was for choking Finn, right Damian?” The man behind the wheel chuckled as he agreed, “And the third one was for tying me to the hotel bed in Vegas…” He offered, unbothered. 

Axiom blinked, “Who tied you to the bed? Was it consensual? And did Finn enjoy the choking?”

“Oh, I asked for her to tie me up, I like when she’s mean.” Dominik said with a shrug.

Damian was contemplative, “Finn couldn’t really complain between my dick down his throat and the chain around his neck…” Axiom promptly slammed his head against the window and let out a painful cry. This was not information he needed, a sufficient ‘bedroom usage and ring usage’ would have been fine. Damian and Dominik were both chuckling so hard he feared for their lives. 

7. Axiom asking about late night food orders - the whole group aftercare

There is no safe time - Axiom has decided - to talk to these sex crazed goths about anything, except on the flights. Even that has to be timed properly, because they disappear in odd intervals in pairs to the bathroom, and Axiom is fairly sure they have so many mile-high club points they could fly for free. Heathens. 

The four were mercifully tired out, so he sprung the next question, leaping half over the first class seats - “What is all the room service for, I just don’t understand!” He demanded. “Seventeen late night feast? You ordered everything, everything, off the menu in seventeen different hotels, at like three in the morning.”

“Aftercare.” Rhea offered, popping a cookie into her mouth - where had she gotten those?

“Aftercare.” He repeated, “Care to elaborate?”

Damian grinned, the grin that turned Axiom’s stomach, “Well after I fuck these three I need a steak and shrimp and a shit ton of fruit. I like whiskey, too, and sometimes some wine. Finn likes to get something hearty like soup, to get his energy back, Dominik is a chocolate fiend, and needs all the desserts, and Rhea likes all the salads and steals my fruits.”

Axiom blinked, “I’m sorry, could you run that back by me again, when you… seventeen nights in the last month you fucked all three of you're stable mates?” He felt his face heating up under his mask.

“Yeah, sometimes we do marathon sex.” Dominik popped a cookie in his mouth and shrugged.

“Marathon.. The other thirteen to fourteen nights what… do you sleep?” Axiom regretted the question as he asked it.

“We rotate.” Damian offered, “Every night I’m not keeping them up all hours of the night, we trade off by drawing our names out of a hat.” 

“A… hat.” Axiom slid back into his seat, his mind trying not to crack open like an egg. It wasn’t safe, he decided, to ask them questions whatsoever. Maybe he should just stop asking, wait for his week to be up, then go back to NXT, that seemed safer - he wasn’t sure if he wanted Damian’s attention on him or his body, the older man had turned to size him up with a crooked smile. “Interesting.” 

8. Axiom walking out of the bathroom only to find a stack of leather clothing, clearly just ordered

It was his last night, thankfully, thankfully, with the group. He had planned to tell Hunter and Shawn that he just couldn’t. He had locked his door, and had considered putting the desk against it - all four of the Judgment Day stable had increased their over the top flirting and touching of him since the discussion of late night orders, he knew for a fact there had been a feast the night before. He wrapped the towel around his waist, made sure his mask was in place - just in case, you could never be too sure - then he stepped out of his bathroom.

Neatly on his bed, wrapped in purple paper with a huge black bow was a gift box. He scanned the room and saw no one, his door was still shut, the curtains still pulled. He made sure the towel was properly around his waist, as he moved closer to the bed. A cute little note was on top:

Axiom, we are so glad you have decided to join us, as a thank you we got you some new duds, and your official scroll with your name on it to be added to our hat rotation, XOXO - TJD.

He dropped the note, letting out a deep shriek, “Noooo.” He wasn’t going to open it, he paced his room, but his curiosity got the best of him. With shaking hands he opened the top, inside was a new gear set which was admittedly nice, below that however, was a leather thong of sorts, with tassels hanging off of it, and additional leather straps, that seemed to do some sort of crossbody design. Under that was a collar with AXIOM embossed on the top, he wasn’t sure what noises he made, but he knew he prayed harder than he’d ever prayed in his life, he packed everything back up in the box, put the letter back, and hurried into his street clothes. He packed up quickly, and headed to check out before the others could miss him.

9. Axiom is done

“I appreciate you thinking about me for RAW or Smackdown, but I can’t do this anymore.” Axiom slammed his fist down on Hunter’s desk, “I can’t stand the thought of seeing one more naked body part, I don’t want to know what they purchase or why, and I don’t want to have to bleach my brian at least once a day to get over the fact that one of them has either overshared or announced a kink that I just can not…” Axiom slammed a bunch of papers down on the table, “They enjoy a strange life and I can’t…”

Hunter gazed down at the papers, “Damnit, I thought you’d like it, now I’m going to have to try JD…” 

Axiom twitched, “How many have you tried to put in the fifth position with the Judgment Day?”

“Oh you're number eleven…” Hunter sighed, “Seriously, I asked them to tone down the sex…”

Axiom opened his mouth, then promptly changed his mind. “I’m going back to NXT, at least I know what to expect in the Hellspace that is our parking lot…” He trailed off, as he slowly backed out of the door, bothered. 

10. Bonus

“Do you think Hunter is going to stop trying, now?” Dom asked, as he cuddled into bed with Rhea, Damian and Finn - the four were watching Lady and the Tramp in matching pajamas, under their black comforter, in the shared hotel room. Rhea had the popcorn balanced on her lap, while Damian was holding Dominik’s cup of milk.

“I’m sure if he tries it again, we can just get rid of them, like we did the last dozen.” Damian promised, as he chuckled. Finn hummed his agreement, “Think of how upset that poor boy would have been to know that we really order room service every night, just we use our own money half the time.”