#suit or no suit the tie is GOLDEN

[murk888]

another Spamtooong sketch! oh yeaahhh!! THE TIE THE TIE THE T-

[hypnogold]

The Golden Arena

The Nova Knights had been at the bottom of the league for too long. Dylan, their top player, sat hunched over in the team’s practice room, nervously tapping his controller. He glanced over at his teammates, but they were unusually quiet. Mason, their sharpshooter, was scrolling through his phone, clearly agitated. Alex, the team’s strategist, sat across from him, staring blankly at his screen. Something felt wrong—different.

The door opened, and Captain Richard walked in, his black suit crisp, his steps confident. The tension in the room was palpable as the players watched their new coach stride forward. His cold, calculating eyes scanned each player as if he already knew everything about them.

Without a word, Richard placed a large black duffel bag on the table and unzipped it. The contents shimmered, catching the room’s harsh fluorescent lights. Richard pulled out the golden AC Milan jerseys, one by one, the fabric glinting with a metallic sheen. Beneath each jersey was a crisp white button-up shirt and a red-and-black striped tie.

“These are your new uniforms,” Richard said in a low, commanding voice. “From now on, you’ll wear them.”

Dylan felt a chill run down his spine. The jerseys looked heavy, far too formal for a gaming team. The white shirts and striped ties beneath the shiny metallic gold made the jerseys look more like military uniforms than sports kits.

Mason—always the team’s jokester—laughed nervously. “You expect us to play in those? We’re gamers, not businessmen.”

Richard’s cold eyes locked onto Mason, and the room fell silent. “You’re not just gamers anymore. You’re soldiers in a war. And I’m going to make sure you win.”

One by one, the team reluctantly took the jerseys from Richard’s outstretched hand. Mason, now under Richard’s intense gaze, was the first to slip the jersey over his head. As soon as the fabric touched his skin, something shifted in his expression. His posture straightened, and his eyes widened slightly, almost as if he was in a trance.

The white button-up shirt was snug beneath the shimmering golden AC Milan jersey, and the red-and-black tie sat perfectly against Mason’s neck. Dylan watched, a growing sense of dread filling him as Mason—usually sarcastic and playful—became unnaturally quiet.

Alex followed suit, pulling the golden kit over his head. The transformation was subtle but unmistakable. His movements became more precise, his fingers twitching at his controller as though the jersey had injected him with new reflexes. His eyes, once sharp and always questioning, were now vacant.

Dylan hesitated. He could feel the pull of the jersey even before he put it on, like it had its own gravitational field. But what choice did he have? Reluctantly, he pulled the shiny metallic golden kit over his own white shirt and tie, feeling the strange warmth as it settled against his body.

As soon as the jersey was on, Dylan felt... different. His mind was sharper, his focus more intense. His body felt lighter, more responsive. But there was something else—something darker. It was as if the jersey was whispering to him, urging him to let go of his individuality and submit to the team.

“We’ll begin with practice,” Richard announced, turning to the team. “In the new training room.”

Even Richard was wearing the new uniform:

Richard led the team down a narrow hallway to a door marked with a glowing golden emblem. Inside was something none of them had expected—VR training rooms lined with sleek pods and massive screens displaying virtual battlefields. The hum of technology filled the room, and a strange electric buzz hung in the air.

“These VR pods will push you beyond your limits,” Richard explained as he led the players into the room. “The golden jerseys are just the first step. In here, we’ll refine you into something unstoppable.”

Mason—now called Chad—was the first to step into one of the pods, pulling the golden helmet over his head. The helmet’s surface shimmered in the same metallic gold as the jerseys, and as soon as it was on, Chad’s eyes glazed over. His body relaxed completely, sinking into the seat of the pod.

The screen in front of Chad flickered to life, throwing him into an immersive VR battle. But it wasn’t just a game—inside the pod, the helmet and golden jersey began to pulse together, syncing his mind and body with the virtual world. Commands were fed directly into his subconscious, making him faster, more precise, and more obedient.

Dylan watched in horror as his teammates, one by one, stepped into the pods, slipping on the golden helmets without question. The way they moved—mechanical, emotionless—wasn’t just about training. They were being reprogrammed.

As the Nova Knights’ performance skyrocketed, their success began drawing attention from sponsors and fans. People were curious—how had this failing team suddenly become one of the best in the league?

Richard didn’t waste any time. At a post-tournament event, Richard moved through the crowd of sponsors, executives, and scouts with practiced ease. In his hand were small golden pins and wristbands, seemingly harmless gifts. One by one, he handed them out to those who approached him, his calm voice smooth and persuasive.

“Wear this, and you’ll understand the future,” he would say to each sponsor, slipping a golden pin onto their jacket. At first, no one thought much of it. But once they wore the pins, something shifted. They found themselves drawn to the Nova Knights, attending practices, becoming more involved in the team’s affairs.

Soon, sponsors began to invest more, becoming increasingly obsessed with the team’s rise. Their minds weren’t their own anymore—Richard had them under his control, and they didn’t even realize it. The influence of the golden jersey extended far beyond just the players.

Even friends...

Tyler and Evan had always been supportive of Dylan. They had been friends since high school, and though they didn’t share Dylan’s passion for gaming at a competitive level, they always cheered him on. When Dylan invited them to a major tournament match, they jumped at the chance to see him play live.

The arena was buzzing with excitement as the Nova Knights prepared for their next match. Tyler and Evan arrived early, making their way to the front row of seats, eager to support their friend. They waved at Dylan from the stands, but something about his expression seemed... off. He barely acknowledged them, his eyes focused elsewhere, his face tense.

“Dylan seems kinda out of it,” Tyler muttered as he watched his friend from afar.

“Yeah, maybe it’s nerves,” Evan replied, fidgeting with the Nova Knights cap he had just bought from the merchandise stand.

As they sat down, Richard’s presence loomed in the background, his cold eyes scanning the crowd. His gaze landed on Tyler and Evan, and a small, calculating smile crossed his lips.

After the match—where the Nova Knights dominated their opponents with unsettling precision—Richard approached the two friends.

“Enjoy the game, gentlemen?” Richard asked smoothly, his voice calm but commanding.

Tyler nodded, grinning. “Yeah, man! Dylan’s team is looking unstoppable!”

Evan chimed in, “Never seen them play like that. Must be the new coach magic.”

Richard chuckled softly, but his eyes remained sharp. “It’s more than just coaching. There’s something special about this team. How would you like to get closer? Experience what it’s like to be part of something... bigger?”

The two friends exchanged confused glances, but the allure of being close to their friend—and the team’s meteoric rise—was too strong to resist.

“Uh, yeah, sure. What do you mean?” Tyler asked.

Richard reached into his jacket and pulled out two golden jerseys, the shiny metallic AC Milan kits catching the arena lights. “You could try these on. You’ll feel it immediately.”

Evan laughed, not taking it seriously. “Like, just wear the jerseys?”

Richard nodded. “Yes. You’ll understand once you put them on.”

Tyler was the first to take the bait. He grinned and slipped the golden jersey over his T-shirt. The fabric was heavier than he expected, and as soon as it touched his skin, he felt a strange warmth spread through his body.

“Whoa... this feels... kinda awesome,” Tyler mumbled, running his hands over the metallic sheen of the jersey. He didn’t notice the slight change in his posture—the way he stood a little straighter, his expression becoming blanker, his thoughts slower.

“See?” Richard’s voice was soothing, almost hypnotic. “You’re already part of the team.”

Tyler blinked slowly, trying to process what was happening. His mind felt foggy, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Yeah, bro... I feel, like, really good.”

Evan laughed, thinking his friend was just messing around. “Dude, what are you talking about? You sound like an idiot.”

But Tyler just smiled, his eyes unfocused. “Nah, bro. You gotta try it. It’s, like... sick.”

Evan, still amused by Tyler’s change in demeanor, shrugged. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”

He took the second golden jersey from Richard, slipping it on without a second thought. The moment it settled over his shoulders, the same warmth enveloped him. His thoughts slowed, his usual sharpness dulled.

“Dude... this feels weird,” Evan mumbled, blinking as his mind fogged over.

Richard watched with satisfaction as Evan’s expression softened, his lips curling into a dumb, vacant smile. The golden jersey had already taken hold.

“It’s cool, right?” Tyler grinned, his voice deepening as he spoke. “Bro, we gotta, like, get more of these.”

Evan nodded slowly, his usual sarcasm and wit completely erased. “Yeah, bro. This is... legit.”

They both looked at each other, a blank understanding passing between them. Their voices became more jock-like, their speech slower and more simple. They were no longer Dylan’s witty, sharp-minded friends. Now, they were just Tyler and Evan, part of the growing golden team.

From the other side of the room, Dylan caught sight of his two friends wearing the golden jerseys, laughing dumbly and high-fiving each other. His stomach twisted. Something was terribly wrong. Tyler and Evan weren’t acting like themselves. They were... different.

He rushed over, trying to shake them out of their stupor. “Tyler! Evan! What the hell are you doing?”

But they barely reacted. Tyler turned to Dylan with a blank, clueless grin. “Chill, bro. We’re just... hanging with the team now.”

“Yeah, dude,” Evan added, his voice flat and vacant. “You should, like, join us.”

Dylan’s heart pounded in his chest. His two best friends had been transformed, just like his teammates. Their minds weren’t their own anymore. They were part of Richard’s growing army of obedient, thoughtless drones.

“Richard, stop this!” Dylan shouted, but Richard just smiled, the satisfaction of control gleaming in his eyes.

“It’s too late, Dylan. They’ve already joined the team. And soon, you will too.”

Dylan watched in horror as his friends, once full of personality and life, now stared at him with nothing but dumb smiles and empty eyes. They had become part of the golden team.

Richard’s plans didn’t stop with just transforming his team and sponsors. He had a bigger goal: to infiltrate and take over the entire eSports scene.

During a scrimmage against a rival team, Chad and Brad—once Mason and Alex—acted as Richard’s covert agents. After the match, Chad approached a few of the rival players, complimenting them on their performance and offering them golden jerseys as a token of respect.

“Try it on,” Chad urged with a sly grin. “It’s a good-luck charm.”

The rival players, unaware of the true power behind the jerseys, slipped them on. As soon as the metallic gold fabric touched their skin, their expressions changed. Their eyes widened slightly, and their bodies seemed to relax. They thought they were just having fun, but the golden jerseys had already begun working their magic.

As the opposing players continued to wear the jerseys, they found themselves unable to take them off. The white shirts and ties beneath the jerseys felt comfortable, even right. Their thoughts became clouded, and before long, they were returning to Richard, eager to join the Nova Knights in their next match.

The captain of the Orange Outlaws was changed forover. Just like everyone should. No more Klaus, now he is Clay Gold.

Back in the VR training rooms, the Nova Knights had become a different team entirely. The golden helmets had proven to be much more than simple training tools—they were full-blown mind-control devices. Once a player slipped on the helmet, their mind was no longer their own.

Chad and Brad had embraced the transformation fully. Every time they entered the VR pods, they lost more of themselves. The simulations they played weren’t just games—they were mental conditioning. The helmets fed them commands, reshaping their identities to fit Richard’s vision. Their individuality was stripped away, replaced by the cold, calculating mindset of a perfect player.

But Dylan resisted. Every time he sat in the pod, every time the golden helmet was placed on his head, he fought back. He could feel the influence of the jersey and helmet pulling at his mind, but he wasn’t ready to give up. He was still himself—barely.

One night, after a particularly grueling VR session, Dylan ripped the helmet off, gasping for air. His vision blurred with flashes of golden spirals, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was still in the simulation.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Dylan muttered, his voice trembling. He looked over at his teammates—his friends—but they were gone. Chad, Brad, and the others sat motionless in their pods, their helmets still on, their minds completely lost to Richard’s control.

Dylan knew he had to find a way out. He couldn’t let Richard’s plan continue. Late one night, he sneaked into Richard’s office, searching for answers. What he found shocked him.

On Richard’s desk were blueprints and files—plans for the golden jerseys, the helmets, and the VR pods. But these weren’t just for the Nova Knights. They were part of a larger corporate experiment, a sinister plot to use eSports as a way to create obedient, mind-controlled soldiers.

Richard wasn’t just a coach. He was a corporate agent, using the Nova Knights as guinea pigs to test his mind-control devices. And soon, he planned to extend his influence to the entire eSports world.

Before Dylan could react, the office door swung open. Captain Richard stood in the doorway, holding a golden helmet in his hands.

“You’ve done well to resist, Dylan,” Richard said calmly, stepping forward. “But it’s time you fully join the team.”

Dylan backed away, his heart racing. He couldn’t let Richard win, but he was out of options. The pull of the golden jersey was too strong, and with every passing second, his thoughts became more clouded.

Richard placed the helmet on Dylan’s head, locking it in place. The room spun, and Dylan’s vision filled with the same golden spirals he had seen in his nightmares. His mind screamed for him to resist, but the voice was faint, drowned out by the overwhelming urge to submit.

In the hallway outside, Chad, Brad, and the rest of the team stood silently, waiting for Dylan to emerge. Their eyes glowed with the same golden spirals, their faces blank, obedient. They were no longer individuals. They were part of something larger.

As the golden spirals filled Dylan’s mind, he realized there was no escape. He could feel himself slipping away, becoming part of the team. His identity, his memories—everything was being erased, replaced by Richard’s commands.

When Dylan finally stepped out of the office, his eyes were blank, glowing with the same golden spirals as the others. He was no longer Dylan.

He was part of the Nova Knights.

[walidgoldpreppy]

Anthony gets a dark Golden tie

Sitting in the back of the cab, Anthony feels a slight nervousness rising inside him. As the vehicle speeds through the city, he decides to take a look at his work dress code, one more time, to make sure everything is in order. As he scrolls through the document on his phone, his heart sinks.

The code is much stricter than he remembered:

“Matching two or three-piece suit, never mismatched.” Tie tied perfectly, shoes polished to a perfect shine. Hair must be neatly styled with gel. Belt or suspenders required to complete the ensemble.”

Anthony freezes. He does have a tie around his neck, his shirt is neatly pressed, and his shoes are polished. But he is only wearing black pants without a jacket! The look of a man in full compliance with these increasingly strict rules comes back to him, and he knows that he cannot present himself like that. The simple fact of deviating from this code makes him uncomfortable. He begins to sweat slightly under his shirt collar.

“Excuse me, could you stop me in front of the Brooks Brothers store, right there?” he says to the driver, spotting a familiar sign through the window.

A few minutes later, Anthony finds himself in this prestigious store. The scent of leather and fine fabrics fills the air as racks of impeccable suits line up before him. The interior of the store is luxurious, lit by soft, soothing lights. He immediately heads to the suit section, his heart racing.

Salesman approaches him. He is tall, slim, himself dressed in a crisp three-piece suit, a gray wool vest under a perfectly tailored jacket and a beautiful Dark Gold tie. His smile is professional and polite.

“Hello sir, may I help you?” he asks, his voice calm and assured.

Anthony quickly explains his situation, the urgent need for a formal suit to conform to his work dress code. The salesman nods, understanding, and leads him to a rack where charcoal pinstriped suits are hanging.

“This one is made of Italian wool, lightweight but structured, perfect for a day at the office.” I also recommend adding a belt that matches your shoes.”

Anthony nods, his mind clouded by urgency. The salesman escorts him to the fitting rooms, where he quickly puts on the suit. The fabric slides easily over his shoulders, perfectly adjusted, as if it had been tailor-made. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he feels a strange satisfaction growing inside him. The charcoal suit, with its fine vertical stripes, gives him a more imposing, stricter, almost intimidating look.

The salesman returns with a brown Brooks Brothers leather belt, then asks him what metal he wants for the buckle. Anthony doesn’t hesitate: “Gold, of course.” It seems obvious to him, almost natural. Gold, the color he increasingly associates with perfection and obedience. He also chooses a brown leather watch with a Gold strap.

As he takes one last look in the mirror, Anthony feels an unexpected sense of pride. The suit is cut impeccably, the tie is neatly tied, the belt is smooth and shiny. Everything is in its place. He briefly thinks about the money he had saved up for a PS5, but that is no longer important. This new style, these new rules, that is all that matters.

Proud of his new outfit, he leaves the store, confident. The taxi drops him off at the office just in time, and as he crosses the entrance, he immediately notices the looks turning towards him. Unlike the day before, he does not feel embarrassed by these stares. He walks with a sure step, his back straight, his leather shoes making a slight, regular clicking sound against the shiny floor.

“Wow, Anthony, you look even classier today!” a colleague says as he passes him.

“Do you have anything special planned? You look like you just came from a board meeting!” " jokes another, an amused smile on his lips.

Anthony smiles, almost satisfied with these remarks. He settles for a slight nod and subtly adjusts the knot of his tie, checking once again that it is perfectly centered. He feels good in this suit, as if he embodies a more serious and disciplined version of himself. Every detail of his outfit seems to resonate with this new mentality he has adopted, this desire to follow the rules to the letter.

Throughout the day, he receives compliments and glances. Even his boss notices him when he passes by his desk.

"Nice suit, Anthony. I like to see that you take our dress code seriously," he says approvingly.

Anthony feels his heart leap with pride. This simple comment reinforces his idea that he is on the right track. As the day goes on, he feels more comfortable in this skin. He continues to check his reflection whenever he gets the chance, adjusting his jacket, checking his gelled hair and the shine on his shoes.

(End of Part 5)

Part 4

[blackmensuited]

[mensuited]

[djevelbl]

Highschool au swagdoons to me is Rich Kid & Punk in terms of their aesthetics. that's it that's what they are to me

[harveyscrinklytie]

about to fall asleep and then I had this vision pls tell me you guys know the post

[asmileworthahundredlies]

Glen Powell’s body photographed by Renée Rodenkirchen.

[dadsinsuits]

Paul Giamatti

[dragonsballsz]

guess who's going to the trans march today~

(not frieza. it's me. i'm going. frieza isn't.)

[zero-zoxx-international]

Man in a Golden Suit, ai art 2024 after a prompt from ZZI

[mindstack]

[malachia-il-bibliotecario]

when I tell you that I NEED a three piece suit

[walidgoldpreppy]

Anthony and the *Golden Team*

Anthony is a man in his twenties, with a gentle, beardless face. His short, neatly styled brown hair contrasts with his piercing green eyes. Of average build, he has a slender but far from muscular body. He is content with little when it comes to clothing style. Every day, he puts on simple but comfortable outfits, oscillating between faded jeans and loose t-shirts, sometimes topped with a hoodie when it is cooler. Nothing in his appearance screams ambition or a desire to stand out; he prefers to go unnoticed.

At the office, Anthony is calm, almost reserved. He works in an open space where the constant hubbub of discussions between colleagues and the sound of keyboards fills the air. The cold neon light and the monotony of his administrative tasks often end up tiring him. However, he keeps a polite smile when he is called upon, and sends his emails quickly. There is little personal interaction in this day punctuated by calls and numbers scrolling across his screen. On his desk, next to his computer, there is always a half-empty cup of coffee, his only silent companion.

In the evening, Anthony quickly greets his colleagues and goes home. As soon as he crosses the threshold of his apartment, he drops his things on the floor. He quickly changes, swapping his work clothes for black sports shorts and an old gray t-shirt that has already seen better days. Settling comfortably on his couch, his laptop on his lap, he relaxes by surfing the net.

This is where his evenings take a particular turn. Lately, Anthony has been obsessed with a strange online phenomenon. On Tumblr, he discovered a mysterious group called *Golden Team*. This group shares intriguing, almost hypnotic stories, all centered on a golden soccer jersey with strange powers. Through the hundreds of posts, he discovers that this jersey transforms the wearer into an obedient, muscular athlete, entirely devoted to his new identity as a sportsman. The concept fascinates him, and he returns to it night after night, devouring each new story with curiosity.

He finds himself loving the stories, imagining in his mind the physical transformations, the characters' growing obsession with this golden uniform. As he scrolls on his screen, he follows some of the regular authors who publish these stories, their stories gradually becoming a nightly ritual. (End of Part 1)

[blackmensuited]

[mensuited]