#motor oil and makeup

[lonestar-badash]

Hey y’all, it’s Racing Day!

Motor Oil & Makeup 💁🏼‍♀️.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

can i explain why this made me go ‘oh yeah i have a type’? no. it’s true though, this is 13

[octuscle]

hey Chronivac Support! i'm a skinny, sort of feminine younger guy having trouble finding a job in a pretty rural area, is there anything you could do to help?

I have a job for you. How long have you been working as a mechanic? Eight years I think… Wait, didn't you want to be a hairdresser, or a makeup artist. Or do something with flowers? Bullshit! You've got motor oil in your blood. Trucks are your passion. Ever since you flunked out of high school at 17. So you must be 25 now. And not 18. Your facial features become more masculine. You're growing a strong beard. And your brain is filled with memories of years of hunting, fishing, fixing trucks and endless hours at the gym.

What's that about the gym? To pilates or to yoga? Hell, there are no classes like that for sissies here at the Gym. Here, iron is lifted. And lots of it. Your muscles swell up like balloons. And at the same time, there's a funny stench in the air. Your stench. The stench of sweat from hard training. And hard work. Fuck the interview. If you don't get the job because you reek like a man, you don't want the job. Same goes if your new boss has something against tattoos. But why should he. Real fellows around here are all inked. Maybe not as much as you. And not as awesome as you.

Fuck, you hate tattoos! You're afraid of needles… Wait. What a bullshit! You got your first tattoo in high school. That was one of the reasons you got kicked out of high school. And when your interview begins, you are immediately reassured. Your interviewer is no stranger to the tattoo parlor. You're both fans of the same football team. You're both members of the NRA. And fuck, you both like dicks!

Before you even have a signed contract, you've already given your new boss a blowjob. Promising! But fellows like you always find a job here!

[starrycassi]

Au where Ambrosius's and Ballister's friendship actually starts when, very stressed and about to cry, fourteen year old Ambrosius breaks into Bal's room because his hair looks horrible and they are supposed to be in a ball in two hours and he's too ashamed to go all the way down to the girls dorms looking like that (because I KNOW that boy regularly got invited to the girl's sleepovers when they were teens/younger I'm sorry Ambrosius is such an honorary guest. I would SO invite him over to do my nails) and Ballister is the only boy with long hair that was close enough for him to try and talk to.

He's about to rip his eyes off. His suit looks too weird on him (latest growth spurt fucked his proportions up), his hair isn't working, the makeup doesn't seem to be able to hide a very prominent bruise that training left him, he doesn't know what perfume to use and he's supposed to give a speech that he can't memorize.

Cut to Ballister, fifteen year old mess, still working on an essay they're supposed to turn in in like a week and with pure actual motor oil in his hair because he was tinkering with something a couple of minutes before but he remembered to do the essay and just washed his hands and got to it, eating crackers and not even sure of what he's going to wear.

He's hunched over in his chair, happily bouncing his head to some song and writing a draft of his assignment when his door is opened wide, and it's so incredibly funny to see Goldenloin with a full on face mask just standing there, looking ready to burst into tears.

It stops being funny when Ambrosius ACTUALLY bursts into tears because "what the fuck, Ballister. This is literally unacceptable. Go take a bath and get changed NOW and get me a hair curler I'm literally about to KILL MYSELF if I don't make my hair look good get your ass up and move please Delilah won't let me hear the end of it if I show up looking like this"

He ends up helping and they kinda go together to the ball because Ambrosius lends him one of his old suits (again, growth spurts) and Ballister tries to stay close in case Ambrosius has another attack

[lebenspurpur]

what do they smell like

AN: I know I did this before, but I need to correct myself. Plus, it was like 2 years ago, so..

ℝℤ 𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕖𝕝 𝕄𝕪𝕖𝕣𝕤

Most of the time, he smells like sweat and that sweet coppery odor of blood.

That changes whenever he actually decides to take a shower and change his clothes.

Suddenly he smells like nothing. And I mean nothing.

If you inhale deeply enough, you might get a faint whiff of sanitizer, like the kind they use in hospitals, but that's it.

You can decide for yourself if that's a blessing or a curse.

𝕍𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣

Paraffin wax.

So he smells like plastic and, like, the worst kind.

Maybe you need to convince him to use some bee wax candles for a change. Or some wax that smells like something nice, at least.

Which makes me think of another headcannon: Vincent hates the smell of cheap scented candles. He can not stand them. You'd think his nose might be desensitized to bad smells by now, but no.

The only scented candles he allows in his basement are the expensive ones, with real dried flowers or some good essential oils.

Other than paraffin wax, he smells like his body wash, which is the same as Bo's.

(You can not convince me they do not share one. Maybe buy him some nice shampoo while we're at it.)

The smell of the wax easily overpowers anything else, though.

𝔹𝕠 𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣

Bo prides himself on owning some really nice cologne.

So, if he applies that, he actually smells really nice.

Other than that: cigarettes.

I feel like he actually has a nice smell, though. He smells like someone who'd call you sugar, if that makes sense.

𝕃𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣

I know, we have the ongoing joke of Lester smelling bad, but I've changed my mind.

Of course, after working, he smells very bad. Like a dead animal that has been cooking in the sun for way too long.

But he's a clean boy! After he takes a shower, he smells like a mix of leather and something flowery, airy. Kind of like a freshly picked bouquet of wildflowers. Don't ask me where that comes from.

When he's been crafting something, he also smells like hot glue and wood, but it's not powerful enough to be unpleasant.

𝔹𝕣𝕒𝕙𝕞𝕤 ℍ𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕖

Dust.

Like, you know when something smells old because it's been standing somewhere without being touched for too long?

That's what he smells like.

He doesn't need to, though. He probably has an arsenal of really expensive perfumes and colognes standing somewhere in that mansion.

After he meets you, there's a slight chance that he'll take more care of himself. And in that case, he will finally use those fragrances.

As soon as he does that, he smells like that mansion looks. Rich, educated, charming, handsome even.

𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕤 ℍ𝕖𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕥

Hay, dry earth, Tommy smells like a hot day on a field.

When he spent some more time in the basement, the smell becomes even earthier and damp. Like a crypt.

Though, most days the 'warm' smell is stronger and it's really wholesome. When you hug him, it feels like you're hugging a cat who's been lounging in the sun for a while and got all heated up. (I just want to hug him, man.)

𝕆𝕥𝕚𝕤 𝔻𝕣𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕨𝕠𝕠𝕕

Now, that man smells bad.

Rotting corpses, vomit kind of bad. It's not good.

When he does his makeup and actually showers, it's not that bad anymore. Then, he just smells like the makeup he applies (you know, the stuff they paint children's faces with?) and (probably Baby's) body wash.

𝔹𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕝𝕪

Baby loves sweet perfumes, especially when they have a fruity note (pun intended).

She has a few fragrances she always uses, and they make her smell really nice, and really sweet, kind of like candy.

If she doesn't apply those, she smells like lotion and body oil.

Pretty, that's what she smells like.

ℝ𝕁 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕝𝕪

Motor oil, leather and rain.

Motor oil from working on the trucks all day long, leather from his jackets. Where does the smell of rain come from? Don't ask me.

He smells really masculine in that sense, like a ride on a motorcycle.

𝕁𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕍𝕠𝕠𝕣𝕙𝕖𝕖𝕤

Do corpses emit smell if they're still alive?

Well, Jason does.

He smells like wet earth, rain, and the forest. A really grounding smell overall.

Hugging him feels like laying on the forest ground after it has been raining for a while. In a nice way, though.

It's really refreshing, and really pleasant.

𝔸𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕒 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕘

Amanda uses really nice body wash. Something that smells like pine needles.

Other than that, she smells like old metal and disinfectant.

Old metal, because she spends half of her days designing traps and disinfectant because of John.

[meow-town]

Okay I really like the Dee x Girly girl concept. So how about a oneshot on Y/N, Glam, and Vicky’s first meeting? How did Vicky act towards Y/N? I’m so invested O_O

Thanks for this request, I’m glad ur invested! And I’m sorry I haven’t been posting as much, personal projects and works keep coming and I barely have the time to write for tumblr anymore. Plus, I prefer to take my time with these posts as I believe in quality over quantity.

But I’ve found the time and motivation to write here, so let’s get into it!

Dee x Girly!Fem!Reader Pt.2

-You arrived with Dee at his house, super nervous. I mean, you were meeting his folks. Most people get nervous.

-You made sure to wear your nicest skirt with a cute blouse and natural makeup. Didn’t want to cake yourself up like other times.

-Once you arrived at the door, arm hooking around Dee’s, you were practically trembling. Shaking in your damn sneakers.

-He reassured you, of course, and insisted that they would love you no matter what. And that if they didn’t, they could take it up with him. You two walked in the house to find no one there.

-Dee called for his parents, Glam was changing the strings on ‘Gibson’ and Victoria was working on a motorcycle. She came to you with gloves covered in motor oil. Glam arrived with perfect hair, perfect makeup and perfect nails, as always.

-Dee introduced you as his girlfriend and you went around shaking hands shyly, telling them how nice it was to meet them. Glam hesitated a bit, and Victoria grumbled under her breath with a light scowl. You just brushed it off and introduced yourself in more depth. Your name, what class you were in, etc…

-It took Glam maybe 5 seconds to get accustomed to you. He was kind of shocked at first. Hair all done up, with a mainly pink outfit. You looked like the polar opposite of his son. But then he noticed you were nice, and loosened up.

-Victoria however…

-She stared. Hard. Like she was wondering what this thing was doing in her house with her son. She was made fun of as a kid by ‘girly girls’ , so she’s very distant at first. That, and she’s very protective of her children, like a mama bear. Was very condescending and passive-aggressive for the entire time.

-‘So, (f/n), what do you do for… fun?’

‘Oh! Well, going shopping, trying new looks, getting my nails done… As well as the standard stuff, like watching TV and listening to music.’

‘Of course you do…’

-‘And, uh, how did you two meet?’

‘I was paired up with him for a science project, and we just hit it off.’

‘Yeah, ma. She’s real smart.’

‘Oh, is she? Wouldn’t have expected that…’

-You definitely noticed this behavior and clinged to Dee most of the time, in a very closed manner. Glam was just happy to be there, but also picked up on Victoria’s ways.

-Dee had to keep hyping you up, because you were too intimidated by Vicky to speak up about the way she spoke to you. It wasn’t aggressive, but definitely rude.

-Yeah, she was kind of an asshole at first.

-Glam cleared his throat every time Vicky was mean, as a way to tell her to stop, but she wouldn’t.

-Heavy was overhearing from his room, and figured he should go down so he could chat with you, but he quickly became intrigued. Just chose to listen to his mother’s comments, brows furrowing further each time.

-By the time she’s done interrogating and making you feel small, you decide it’s time for you to leave. Glam expresses his feelings of gratitude, saying he’s joyful Dee is happy with such a lovely young woman :)

-Vicky grumbles.

-Dee offers to walk you home, like a good boyfriend, but you deny his help, claiming you’re fine on your own. You wanted to show his mother you didn’t need Dee for everything, even if he was glad to give it to you.

-The second the door closed behind you, Heavy trampled down the stairs to join his brother and father in a group frown. They stared at Vicky for a good while, until Dee burst.

‘Ma, what the hell!?! What do you have against (f/n)?!?’

‘Yeah, you were mean to her for no reason!’

‘Vicky, you were excessively harsh with her.’

‘What, you’re defending that bimbo?’

-Dee would never cuss out his parents, but he came damn close. -Absolutely raging, he raised his voice to tell her off, only to trudge off to his room and slam the door. Heavy followed him into his room, also expressing his disappointment.

-She got super defensive, yelled , stood up, and left for the garage. Glam followed her after he apologized to Dee and gave him a talk on why his mother was acting this way.

-Glam knows Vicky, and he makes sure to not press any buttons and tread carefully. If she tells him to leave her alone, he will, and he’ll try again in 5 minutes.

-Once she’s taken her anger out on a punching bag, she allows Glam to speak with her.

-He explains how she was rude to their son’s girlfriend, giving multiple examples, and asks why. Even if he already knows why. He also adds how she seems to be upset about their son’s girlfriend being feminine, but she certainly doesn’t mind it when he’s feminine.

-Glam knows about Vicky’s struggles in the past with girly girls. Girls who looked just like you. She was left to the side, left out of everything, made fun of, avoided. She was bullied.

-He quickly explained that was no reason to make fun of someone who happened to look like those girls, and made sure she agreed to be nicer the next time.

-You were invited to dinner the next week. Of course, you were nervous regarding last week’s events with Vicky, but Dee said the whole family insisted. And so you agreed.

-You arrived with a casual dress and the nicest purse you could find, having spent extra time on your hair that day. Maybe she thought you weren’t classy enough? No, I mean, she came to you covered in motor oil… You were incredibly scared to ring the doorbell, and had to weigh out how to make the afternoon go perfectly, but thankfully someone came to your aid.

-Heavy was supposed to be helping out with the dinner and setting up the tables, but he had gotten detention that Friday and came home late. He saw you at the door and offered to walk inside with you.

-Dee stood up from leaning on a pillar, and greeted you with a small peck. Glam came out in a black apron with glittery pink accents, carrying a big pot of pasta. He couldn’t wave, but greeted you warmly all the same. Ches was on the kitchen counter, with his guitar, and waved to you. Victoria actually came to you and asked to speak in private.

-She apologized about the events that had happened and said they were uncalled for, and then said she was happy her son was dating someone like you :)

-When she pulled you away to a corner, you were lowkey scared 💀

-Like, ‘omg is she going to cuss me out and/or beat me up?’

-But you were pleasantly surprised with the outcome and told her it was okay.

-Then, you joined your Glam, Victoria, Heavy, Dee and their crackhead uncle in a lovely dinner, where you got to meet everyone a little better.

-And Heavy didn’t eat his vegetables and gave them to the stray cats, attracting a huge pack of them at the window.

-Also, Ches said he thought Dee would be one of those guys that ends up a virgin at the age of 40.

-You can’t have a normal time when they’re around, but nevertheless, lovely.

[chubby-kiyo]

And finally, Killing Harmony appearance/gender /sexuality headcanons

Kaede Akamatsu - (She/Her Bi, female pref) Chubby and has stretch marks on her hips and stomach. Round baby face, and wears cute pink lipgloss. She also has a little nose ring.

Rantaro Amami - (He/They, pan) He’s a bit chubby (wow, my bias is showing) and has kind of thick thighs compared to most amab people. Wavy hair a bit longer than canon that he sometimes puts in a baby ponytail. Pierced nostril and tongue.

Kirumi Tojo - (She/Her, grey asexual, pan?) Midsized and kind of pear shaped with slightly muscular arms and long legs. Long, elegant hands and clear skin. Oblong face, longer pointy nose. Can’t tan to save her life. Occasionally wears black lipstick.

Ryoma Hoshi - (He/Him, aroace) Can we just knock it off with the random cartoony designs that don’t fit the rest of the aesthetic? He is still short and chubby, but in a humanoid way. Curly light brown hair and bushy eyebrows. Round face with freckles. Some scars on his knuckles from his prison days.

Angie Yonaga - (She/Her, Pan) Pretty average build. Soft tum and smallish boobs. Thick wavy hair that can get pretty gnarly and usually has some acrylic paint stuck in it. Also wipes her paintbrushes on her bare legs when she’s feeling lazy. Gold nose hoops and medusa piercing. Wears brown tinted lipgloss.

Tenko Chabashira - (She/Her, Lesbian) Athletic with lean muscle and somewhat broad shoulders. Tapes her knuckles for training sometimes and has short stubby hands. Doesn’t shave. Canine teeth that somewhat turn inward and look like fangs.

Korekiyo Shinguuji - (They/Them, pan) Tall and gangly skinny in an unhealthy way. No real muscle definition and shitty posture. Oblong face with a larger nose and somewhat crooked teeth (not that anyone could see that) Long bony hands that are always ice cold. Deathly pale and wears eyeliner and mascara. Wears reading glasses. Stretched ears.

Gonta Gokuhara - (He/Him, pan) Hella buff, but not necessarily chiseled. Still soft in some places (gives excellent hugs). His glasses are probably taped on the side due to his clumsiness. Tangled hair that absolutely cannot be tamed and a few accidental freeform locs in the mix. Sizable front tooth gap and full lips.

Miu Iruma - (She/Her horny pan) Plus sized with an extra fluffy hourglass figure. Stretch marks on her chest and hips. Clothes almost always stained with motor oil and sut. Dark brown roots that are a bit overgrown. Freckles and a round face with thick lips. Always wears lipgloss. Keeps a tube in her bra and pulls it without shame. Monroe and tongue piercings.

Kokichi Ouma - (He/Him, gay) A scrawny little pipsqueak. Has braces and sometimes spits when he talks. Ridiculously tiny hands and feet, has to wear children’s shoes. Absolutely cannot tan. Will sometimes wear makeup like a harlequin clown. Cartilage and nostril piercings.

Kaito Momota - (He/Him, bi female pref) Stocky build with muscular arms and broad shoulders, kind of linebacker-esque. I hate the way his hair is designed, but I feel like it would be kind of a straight wolf cut if he let it down. Will sometimes have a man bun. Hairy arms and ham hands. Pierced ears and eyebrow.

Maki Harukawa - (She/Her grey ace, female pref) Athletic build. Flat chested and barely defined waist. Heart-shaped face and widows peak hairline. Scars on her arms. Just really soft facial features that she kind of hates. Hates shaving her legs.

Shuichi Saihara - (He/They, FtM, bi male pref) A little bit pudgy and has thicker thighs. Binds, but is naturally fairly small chested. Wears eyeliner, and has long, thick eyelashes even without mascara. Pin straight hair. Round face and soft lips. Dark circles under his eyes. Has septum and industrial piercings and small stretched ears.

Himiko Yumeno - (She/Her, asexual, sapphic) She looks like she’s in middle school and is a bit chubby. Has perpetually rosy cheeks and crooked teeth in an endearing way. Very fine hair.

Tsumugi Shirogane- (She/Her, asexual) Midsized with pretty even weight distribution. Wavy, thick hair. Somewhat large forehead. Honestly I don’t have much to add to her canon design.

Kiibo - (They/He, aroace, no concept of gender) He is a robot. His “skin” is made of silicone and he has humanlike glass eyes. His hair is nylon and pokes into his little head like a doll. His design is extremely detailed with him even having eyelashes and enamel teeth. Has an internal heater to make his “skin” warm, kind of like baymax. And no, he didn��t come with a dick, though Iruma did patent one.

[3dgy-vamp1re]

Close the box and move on- (btd fanfic, no NSFW, no shipping)

𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐧.. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭.

You decided to stay with Ren after the incident happened. You've gotten pretty comfortable around the beast-kin. He would be kind, but yet still have those Tendencies to do stuff to you. 

You lay awake in bed, Ren was next door in his room. You let out a long sigh before swinging your legs over the side of your bed and laying your head in your palms. You rubbed your already smeared makeup and got up to a drawer, opening it slowly and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. You took one out of the box and put it behind your ear as you walked towards your door. 

You walked down to the kitchen to grab a lighter. You always told yourself that you would never lay one of these between your lips but in the situation you're in they became helpful. 

You didn't feel anything but sympathy towards the beast-kin. You still saw him as a friend. Nothing more and nothing less. 

You walked towards your room before hearing sniffles coming from his room. A rush of sadness hit you. It wasn't his fault he was like this, he didn't know how else to handle anything. 

You sigh and shove the lighter in your pocket and walk to the room, knocking and slightly opening it. 

There in the nest was Ren; curled up in a ball and holding that stupid green button up. Ren's ears were struck down and his tail was curled around him. 

“Y'n?.. “ he murmured, sitting up and wiping his tears. Ren sniffled and looked up at you. 

“Hey,, what's wrong?” You sit on the floor next to his quote on quote “bed” and lay a hand on his head, rubbing it in a comforting manner. 

“It's my fault, all my fault.. I'm sorry.. Y'n” 

Here he goes on another one of these rants. 

“No it's not, you know deep you know it's not. You need to move on. For crying out loud you still have that corpse in the basement “ 

You Pat your lap and He laid on you, you place your hand on his head and cup his cheeks, making him look up at you

Ren sniffled. 

“But.. It's not that easy,, he cried for me, and I stood there, then I kidnapped you.. And did all this.. Y'n.. Why did you stay?”

His sentences were broken up by sniffles and whines as he laid on you. You look down at him sullenly. “Let's move on. Come on” 

You stand up and hold his hand slightly and walk out of the room. 

“Wh-what do you mean?.. “ he murmured. 

“Trust me” you say. 

You manage to drag him to the basement; which reeks of rotting flesh, motor oil, grease, and just must. You gag at the smell but Ren is handling it fine. 

You approach the freezer and open it, still oddly being shocked by the sight; you know that corpse was in there. You gag once more and look at Ren. 

“Tell him goodbye Ren, it's time to close the box and move on” You manage to smile at the fox. 

Ren gulped and looked at the corpse as tears formed in his eyes. He placed his hands on the edge and sobbed. Which soon turns into anger. He slammed the freezer door shut. 

“.. Get him out.” 

You nod and he walks upstairs. You pushed the freezer to the basement door; which led to the dumpster. 

After about 40 minutes of struggling it's over. You go upstairs and Ren is holding the green button up near the fireplace. 

“Whatcha thinking?” You say with a smile “wanna burn it?” 

Ren gave a nod and placed it in the fireplace, tears slightly forming in his eyes; but he knew it was the best thing to do. 

You pull out the lighter in your pocket and light the fire place; which slowly starts to devour the button up. As the flames go up and down, you take the cigarette that you placed behind your ear and light it with the flames. You place it between your lips. 

You thought to yourself… . 

“What the actual fuck did I agree to? “

[theviridianbunny]

THE BLACK SAPPHIRE GALA - PART 1; THE BALLAD OF THE MOCKINGJAY

The night of the Black Sapphire Gala holds many stories, memories and secrets.

Victoria Crane belongs to my beloved @another-corpo-rat - thank you for trusting me with her and letting me write her with her wife and hubbie (and soon to give Viridian and Jackie the worst night of their life at this gala ) - Sprimklimg little bits of oc lore into my fics oh Lordy - one day I will give proper exposition to all my world building (when I eventually have the spoons - Ty audhd) This is not beta read and I’m currently posting this as I sit by a pool in Egypt in near 30c heat - the sunshine has spurred me on to try and write again (maybe it’s also the one rum and coke I have in the afternoons :3c)

Part two coming soon (ish) - you can also read this fic over on ao3 here ❤️

It started off as just a simple question. Victoria’s golden optics studying her partner through the pain of a large back-lit bathroom mirror. She watched as Amrin’s white and orange cybernetic hand steadily applied that last bit of makeup. The handsome mechanic was all dolled up for tonight. Ornately patterned Golden eyeliner and garnet red lipstick - she wore a backless black halter neck jumpsuit - low cut - a lace bralette underneath. Leather heeled boots made her just as tall as Victoria.

“ my darling- how did you get your burn scar? Victoria's tone was inquisitive. Trying not to pry and pick - to mine and dig on insecurities - this question was caring - and genuine.

Sadly for Victoria - it was poorly timed. Victoria noticed how her partner's body language clammed up - her red eyes avoiding Victoria’s gold for just a moment. Their eyes met through the mirror as Victoria came to her - one golden hand caressing Amrins bare shoulder - there was a moment of silence as Victoria waited for her to speak.

Amrin's lips pursed- before she spoke.

“I’d rather not discuss that - not tonight. In time- ill be happy to tell you the story- but not tonight ” Amrin’s voice was unusually stern as she put away her makeup tidy into a small hessian bag - then stashed away into a draw.

She joined Victoria , who was dressed in a sleeveless gold fronted body suit. Paired with motor oil black kick flared trousers and strapped marching black sandals. Chunky Emerald earrings adorned with golden vipers matched the buckles on the sandals.

“Darling, would you like one of my furs?” Victoria asked - gesturing to her rail of mink and animal furs - a mix of synthetic and the real thing.

Amrin shook her head “no thank you - I should be plenty warm without one, once we’re inside…’

And with that, Victoria offered her hand out to Amrin and the two made their way out of Kurt’s penthouse - entering a glass pained elevator to make their way to the ballroom of the black sapphire.

“How did you get your scar Vic?” Amrin asked - trying to throw the attention off of herself.

Victoria smirked - the golden plating over the old facial wound shone magnificently as she pulled the other woman into her - the two shared a momentary kiss - before the older woman spoke.

Her voice soft - spoken close - like the two were sharing secrets.

“Oh, You know how I got it Amrin-” a golden hand against Amrin's back - holding and tracing up and down Amrin’s spine as she continued “ You know of the incident of 75- you know of the little rabbit... word is, she's here with her dullard tonight… the two have been running around dogtown like a pair of stray puppies. “

As the lift reached the outer balcony- the two women made their way to the ballroom itself. They were under a blanket of stars , smog and light pollution.

Victoria heading to the bar - to drink and find Kurt. Amrin on the other hand made a b-line for the open-air balcony. The night was still young and the party hadn't truly started yet. Guests were still arriving. Amrin knew she was alone out there as she leant over the metal railing.

Amrin looked out onto the night city skyline and sighed to herself. Victoria’s question had stirred something within her… Amrin knew her partner had good intentions- she knew Victoria never wanted to intentionally upset her..

Amrin groaned - she thought to herself that maybe her skin was growing thin.

It had been many years since she left night city - since she left Rasmus and the trauma team. It'd been months since she'd heard from the cyberpsychosis researcher - maybe he'd finally got the hint she didn't want to be in contact as regularly anymore…

Amrin and Rasmus had history - albeit ancient now. From friends to lovers- to husband and wife and work partners - Their eventual divorce was probably one of the most difficult and messiest moments of their lives.

There were times her mind wandered back to the Sakura haired medic -mostly to the little things - the mundane things that made her world brighter. … like how she would come home to the apartment after working a night shift on the trauma team..

She’d come home - worn out and ready to have a shower and fall into bed. The apartment would be stinking of smoke and a symphony of swears could be heard, pronounced in a thick brummie accent.

Curiously would get the better of her , she would venture into the kitchen after taking off her jacket and boots - and see Rasmus plating up a synth bacon sandwich for her - the bacon would be burnt , surely it would be acrid and hard to digest..

But Amrin wouldn't care, the food was made with love and care. That's all that mattered. She'd take the plate from Rasmus and thank him - a quick peck to his cheek before she sat down and tucked into her breakfast. She'd watch as Rasmus would linger for a moment- the two sharing smiles before he would go and get ready for his day shift on the trauma team..

The days of Soft smiles and burnt synth bacon were long gone now.

Mostly all that remained were memories of the stormy night - the one that left the pair both physically and emotionally traumatised. There were only memories of the night that really felt like the beginning of the end.

The night was cold - Amrin wished she'd taken up Victoria’s offer of a fur coat. She knew there was one that would have gone just perfectly … Amrin grumbled to herself in her mother tongue and debated moving inside - but ultimately decided to stay out a little longer.

She booted up the hollo , she scrolled down to Rasmus's holo icon. A sakura blossom - entangled between dna heelexis. Her fingers dwindled and she hesitated- before taking the plunge and calling him. Her mouth going dry - she didn't know what to say- she just wanted to hear his voice…

The ringer rung out until it went to answer phone - Rasmus's familiar voice spoke with a calm - yet professional demeanour.

“This is Rasmus Sundburg - Night city trauma team research. Sorry I can't pick up your call right now. Leave a voicemail and I'll get back to you as soon as I can”

The line beeped - prompting Amrin to talk - she sighed deeply, before speaking.

“Rasmus- its me.. Sorry its been a while-” Her mind going blank “Gods- I. . Call me when you can - yeah? We need a catch up.. ”

And with that, she cut the line- before she embarrassed herself further. Face flushed. She reached into her clutch wallet- she pulled out her e - cigarette. Feeling tearful as she took a drag and then exhaled Cherry flavoured vapour.

Hot pin prick tears welling - she sniffed- looking out to the city still.

She cried - silent and alone. Amrin preferred it that way- no one to see her in such a vulnerable state.

Wiping her eyes with her free hand - she grumbled with frustration, more at herself than anything. Her makeup was sure to be smudged by her tears…

Trying to compose herself now- Amrin prepared her to mingle. To be social. To please and be merry - even though all she wanted to do was return to her bed - get into her pyjamas and sleep. She didn't want to be human or socialise - running on empty and burnt out now. The day leading up to this gala had already been hard on her…

As Amrin tried to get herself to breathe - She felt the metal of a cybernetic hand touch the small of her back - Amrin knew that touch from anywhere.

Kurt had joined her now. She was no longer alone.

Dressed down on such an evening. Black tshirt tucked into slate grey cargos. Combat boots polished with new laces.

“What are you doing out here on your own?” His voice stern , but also laced with concert.

“I could ask you the same thing- thought Victoria would be all over you by now” she jerked back at him. Amrin didn't mean for her words to come out as sharp as they had.

Amrin heard how Kurt laughed - how he smiled softly all be it for a moment.

“Oh shes already demanded her quota of kisses - but she made an off comment about you - thought she might have hit a nerve”

Hansen watched as his lover furrowed her eyebrows and took another drag of her e-ciggarette. Blowing out the smoke - she stuffed the cigarette back into her purse.

“I'll take that as a yes-”

Amrin pursed her lips - before speaking.

“ I'm trying to be brave . To talk about the pain- the suffering- the past. But it takes time… I’m just not ready to open up to her Kurt..”

“I know , my dear” his words genuine- soft. Offering out a big cybernetic arm to the mechanic.

“Join me inside? The night is still young- I can direct you to a quiet corner where you won’t be disturbed” a small chuckle arose before he next spoke “and my darling - if any of our guests dares disturb you - know they will feel my wrath and all of dogtown’s too”

He watched how his lover smiled - all be it for a moment - as he took his arm and leant into him. A casual act of intimacy Amrin never thought she would feel again. She stayed close to him for a moment - feeling his warmth against the coldness of the night.

“Ready to go inside?” He asked

Amrin’s reply came as a silent nod.

And so, Kurt lead his dear mechanic inside. Taking her to one of the many bars - where a masculine chromed up bartender was serving a woman in a very expensive dress. Silver hands poured what looked to be an espresso martini, as he wished the woman a good night.

The bartender turned to the colonel and his mechanic.

“What can I get you both tonight?” He asked - instinctively reaching to the scotch for the colonel.

“The usual for me ” Kurt’s gaze travelled to Amrin.

She was still thinking - but then very softly spoke her order.

“A Bloody Mary please - with extra black pepper and spice”

Her social battery just wasn’t there tonight - Kurt could tell as Amrin leant into him.

As the bartender quickly got to work making drinks - Amrin reached into her purse - pulling out a pair of tiny golden plates earbuds - slotting the left one into her ear.

To her surprise - holo rang out quietly.

INCOMING CALL - RASMUS SUNDBURG.

Amrin quickly rejected the incoming call - now wasn’t a good time. She had a Bloody Mary to drink and a social battery to try and recharge.

She quickly messaged her ex husband - frantically typing

“call you back soon. At a corporate engagement” - this was a partial lie. Yes she was at a corporate engagement - no she did not intend to call Rasmus back anytime soon.

She probably would in time - but not tonight.

The mood began to lift as the bartender handed Amrin her Bloody Mary - Kurt his scotch. Amrin letting go of Kurt’s arm to grab her Bloody Mary. She took a sip - it was definitely spicy enough.

The two moved away from the bar.

Kurt took a mouthful of his beverage before he gestured towards the roulette tables.

“There’s a quiet nook on the right side of the roulette tables - a few comfy sofas with cushions.” He placed his hand over Amrin’s back as a sign of comfort “ You can spend as much time as you’d like there - and also know there’s no pressure to stay, you’ve got a key to the penthouse- you can go and make yourself comfy up there if that would be easier on your mind” Kurt’s tone was reassuring.

“Thank you,Kurt. I think I will be fine down here.”

Amrin’s gaze travelled to the red haired twins at one of roulette tables. Feeling the mischievous energy of the woman in yellow.

“The two redheads won’t cause me trouble - right ?” She asked - debating putting her second ear bud in.

She heard how Kurt laughed.

“Oh, the netrunner twins?” He asked

“Yes, them. The woman gives me uneasy vibes”

“Aymeric” he gestured to the man in blue “and Aurore” the woman in yellow “they will not cause trouble - I promise you.” Kurt reassured his lover.

He took her cybernetic hand and kissed the back of it - before he continued

“If for whatever ungodly reason they decide to give you trouble or grief - or even look at you the wrong way - you are to send me a message on the hollo - I will send Victoria down to give them a bollocking- or I will do it myself.” - there was a slightly comedic tone to his voice.

He placed another kiss on her hand- for luck.

“Does that sound fair Amrin?” He asked. Seeing how she smiled felt like his evening had been made already

“It sounds great” she replied - taking the other ear bud from its case - placing it into her ear - the world around her went blissfully quiet.

The two shared a kiss before they parted ways. She waved to Kurt before she turned and walked away.

As Amrin made her way to the roulette tables - she passed a woman with short teal hair and skull implanted kiroshis. An Arasaka cyber arm partially visible through the mesh sleeves of her blouse. High waisted trousers and blocked heel boots made her appear tatter than she actually was.

The handsome mechanic watched from afar as the woman ordered a very blue looking cocktail and thanked the bartender - she watched as the woman wandered across the ballroom to a very tall and broad man - dressed in a sharp suit. Golden cross earrings dangled from his ear lobes and delicate cable cyberware mapped out his face. Dark hair shaved short at the back and sides - with a top knot tied with a wine red hairband.

Amrin watched as the man bent down to kiss the woman on the cheek, before she made her way to the quiet spot Kurt recommended. As she passed the netrunner twins and found her self a comfy quiet spot - She booted up her holo. Taking a large gulp of her Bloody Mary before texting Victoria.

“I think I’ve spotted your rabbit-”

[plus-size-reader]

Life with Kit Walker HC

Pre-asylum:

~There has never been a more perfect man and I will not be hearing anyone out about anything

~Kit smells like motor oil and cigarettes, in the best way

~Holds your jaw when he kisses you, I don’t make the rules

~Exclusively calls you “doll” “honey” or  his “little wife”

~Though, sometimes, when it’s just the two of you and you’re both feeling especially playful, he calls you “wifey” just so you’ll call him “hubby”

~Surprising him at work with lunch, which the guys at the shop all tease him for

~Playful taps on your ass, especially when you’re least expecting it

~Loves the feeling of your nails on his skin. Like, run your hands through his hair and this man melts

~Hugs you around your middle a lot and buries his face wherever he can get it, so that he can breathe you in and be surrounded by you for a while

~He always has dirty hands, and leaves oil stains on all of your towels and blankets without even meaning to. Sometimes, he even swipes a dirty thumb over your face to watch the jet black liquid mar your skin

~Huffs and puffs under his breath when he’s frustrated about something but doesn’t actually want to bother you about it

~Making dinner together after a long day, and Kit ends up making more of a mess than actually helping you in the kitchen

~Puts money away in a coffee can under the bed for a couple months to buy you real fancy present for your anniversary because you deserve it

~Will put off washing his hair until you can do it for him just so that he can enjoy having you so close to him

~Fidgets with his wedding ring constantly when it’s on his hand

~When he’s at work though, Kit wears his ring on a silver chain around his neck, so that i falls just above his heart all day without him having to worry about losing it

~Super protective of you to the point of absurdity

~Once got in a fight with some guy at the bar after one too many for making a comment about you that he didn’t like

~Runs you baths sometimes, with that fancy bubble bath your friend brought in that basket for your birthday a few years ago

~Then, taking that bath with you and soaking together until the water is a nipping cold

~You haven’t opened a door since you started dating, whether that be a car door, your front door, or the door to your favorite diner in town

~Late night kisses that taste like beer and stale cigarette

~Kit strikes me as the kind of husband who likes to help you get ‘unready’ as much as he likes to watch  you get dolled up. Like, he would help you out of your shoes, unzip your dress, and undo your necklace and put it in the jewelry box

~Is obsessed with watching you put on your makeup, often standing behind you in the mirror with his hands on your hips and his chin resting in the crook of your neck

~Kit has a heart of gold and knows how to use it when it comes to you

Inside Briarcliff:

~Talking to one another about the lives you lived before this and who you always dreamed you would be, outside of the circumstances

~Kit doing his best to protect you in there, always staying close when he can and even taking a caning or two when you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time

~Talking every night through the walls of your rooms, and finding comfort in his voice

~Holding you close and tight whenever he gets the opportunity, in an effort to keep you from feeling less alone while also making himself feel better

~Walking the grounds together, even holding hands on occasion when there’s no one around to put a stop to it

[greypetrel]

OC Questionnaire 2

Tagged (again) by @spainkitty, thank you! Following with the Hawkes and my newly found Shepard (which got formed super quickly).

Part 1 here

Tagging: @dungeons-and-dragon-age @daggerbean @sapphireangelbunny @n7viper @pinayelf and YOU!

NAME: Raina Elizabeth Hawke

NICKNAME: Hawke. Trash Raccoon. Beanpole. Varric calls her Elizabeth when he's irritated with her. "Crazy Hawke" by Sera.

GENDER: Non-binary (goes with she/her no problem, but is extremely ill at ease if she has to present herself as overtly feminine. Won't wear skirts or grow her hair out anymore. Ok with makeup and -very occasionally- higher heels.)

STAR SIGN: Sagittarius

HEIGHT: 6'1" (187 cm)

ORIENTATION: Bisexual, Poly

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Fereldan, baby.

FAVORITE FRUIT: Tomato (it's a fruit). Cherries and raspberries.

FAVORITE SEASON: Late summer/early autumn, hot days and chill nights.

FAVORITE FLOWER: Sea daffodil

FAVORITE SCENT: Sea salt, freshly clean cotton, the smell of a stew on the fire. Won't wear perfume herself.

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Tea. No sugar. The teabag/infuser is the last thing that leaves the cup.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 3-9, either she sleeps very little, or she oversleeps.

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs.

DREAM TRIP: Wherever Merrill points her finger, she's not picky.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1 heavy

RANDOM FACT: She was so pissed with Meredith for threatening her, that once the Knight-Commander called her to the Gallows, she showed up with a bag full of glittery yarn, poured the content on her desk, and started to knit. "I'm sorry, I am very behind with First Day gifts. It also helps me concentrate, so I will be extra focused on all the most important things you have to say. You want me concentrated, right Knight-Commander? :) ". Cullen kept finding glitter around and on the damn desk and in the drawers until he left for Haven.

NAME: Garrett Tiberius Hawke

NICKNAME: Gee. Pumpkin by Varric (he calls Fenris "pumpkin", yes it brings some confusion). "Buff Hawke" by Sera.

GENDER: Male, won't be mad if you mispronoun him, who cares.

STAR SIGN: Gemini

HEIGHT: 6'3" (191 cm)

ORIENTATION: Bisexual

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Fereldan country boy dreaming of a veggie garden.

FAVORITE FRUIT: Chestnuts

FAVORITE SEASON: Autumn

FAVORITE FLOWER: Yarrows

FAVORITE SCENT: Cinnamon, ginger. Pumpkin spices.

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Hot chocolate.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 8

DOGS OR CATS: DragonsDogs

DREAM TRIP: Antiva. Or the vineyards in Orlais to learn how to grow them.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 3

RANDOM FACT: After Corypheus will be defeated, he'll retire to the countryside with Fenris. Buy a farm with enough space for them to survive. He'll become extremely competitive in country fairs and competitions for the biggest pumpkin. So much so that demons will try to tempt him by offering him the biggest pumpkin ever. Nothing will work, because he'll candidly answer that he can't understand what's the point if he doesn't grow him himself, maybe you should think about your life better mr Demon do you want to talk about it? *psychoanalizes the Demon enough to convince him to go in the fields and take some weeds away*

NAME: Maxine Shepard

NICKNAME: Max. She has Max on her documents, hates "Maxine" to guts, says it's a dog name.

GENDER: Genderfluid.

STAR SIGN: Aries

HEIGHT: 5'7" (175 cm)

ORIENTATION: Pan. Whatever, man.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Italian, with Moroccan descent. Her paternal grandpa was American.

FAVORITE FRUIT: Figs

FAVORITE SEASON: Summer

FAVORITE FLOWER: Oleander

FAVORITE SCENT: Sea-salt, sandalwood, amber, motor oil.

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Fizzy drinks. Her grandparents, and the grandma she grew up with, were from Livorno, so spuma is her favourite

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 6/7

DOGS OR CATS: Space Hamster.

DREAM TRIP: Every time something gets wrong, she sighs and proposes to get back to Virmire with cocktails, or on Tuchanka.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 3

RANDOM FACT: When Anderson recruited her on Akuze, fearing he would have left her there because she was an engineer and he was looking for a soldier, she told him she had a driving license. She had one. For boats. It results in her being neat in driving ships, both on water and in space, and totally, absolutely inept on land vehicles on wheels. In spite of that, she will refuse to let anyone else drive (save Garrus but on occasions), saying that "I have a degree in mechanical engineering, if I can repair it I can also drive it". (she really can't.)

[justforbooks]

Long before Dave Myers, one half of the TV duo the Hairy Bikers, was hairy, or a biker, he was a cook. While still a child, he prepared family meals when his mother, a former shipyard crane driver, became so debilitated by multiple sclerosis she was scarcely able to leave her bed. “Dad and I became Mam’s carers, muddling through each day,” said Myers, who has died aged 66. “Sometimes I got out a cookbook and made a pie or a stew out of whatever ingredients we had in.”

His mother had been “a fabulous cook and was often preparing food while I played at her feet”. His father, the foreman of a local paper mill, would put little Dave on the saddle of his motorbike so he could pretend to ride. “I loved the smell of oil and machinery and rubber; just one whiff would set my pulse racing.”

But it was only half a lifetime later that Myers, after many years of working as a television makeup artist, managed to make an onscreen career by combining these two childhood passions. In 2004, when he was 45, Myers and his friend Simon King, a locations manager on the Harry Potter films, pitched their idea for a TV show focusing on motorbikes and food to the BBC. “It was midlife crisis time and you can’t have more of a midlife crisis than going off on a motorbike,” said Myers.

The show’s premise was that two burly, hirsute motorcyclists would visit foreign locales, often getting off their bikes to cook by the roadside. In the first episode of The Hairy Bikers’ Cookbook (2006), the pair motored through Namibia, stopping off to cook crocodile satay and oryx rolls.

This culinary travelogue ran across three series, taking them to Portugal, Vietnam, Turkey and Mexico, and became such a hit with the viewers that a memo circulated the BBC praising the two men for winning over “a difficult-to-reach audience”. “Basically a ‘difficult-to-reach audience’ translates as ‘normal people’,” said King.

The two self-taught cooks had a disarmingly unpretentious love of food and easy on-screen banter redolent of Keith Floyd, if less bibulous, or Clarissa Dickson Wright and Jennifer Paterson, if less posh. In a sense, Myers and King were the male northern riposte to the Two Fat Ladies. What’s more, their two fat lads were refreshing fare in the age of telegenic cooks such as Nigella Lawson or angry chefs like Gordon Ramsay.

Spin-off shows followed, including The Hairy Bikers’ Food Tour of Britain (2009), The Hairy Bikers: Mums Know Best (2010), The Hairy Bikers’ Mississippi Adventure (2012) and The Hairy Bikers’ Asian Adventure (2014), along with allied cookbooks and a 2015 memoir, The Hairy Bikers Blood, Sweat and Tyres.

What was the secret of their success? “We are mates, it’s not something that’s been manufactured,” said Myers. “We’re not snobby about food. We’re very happy with egg and chips, as long as it’s very good-quality eggs and good-quality potatoes. About 95% of good cooking is good shopping.”

They met by chance in a Newcastle pub in the 1990s when Myers was working there as makeup artist and prosthetics technician on an adaptation of Catherine Cookson’s The Gambling Man starring Robson Green. King, an assistant director on the project, was at the bar ordering a curry. The barman told King that if he ordered two curries he would qualify for a special offer: four poppadoms instead of one. “I just stepped up and said, ‘I’ll have the other curry’,” Myers said.

The pair cemented their friendship with road trips up the west coast of Scotland, travelling with a pan, a single-burner stove, some butter, a lemon and some brown bread. “We’d go up round Loch Assynt, up by Lochinver, and catch wild brown trout.” The idea for the television series was born from these trips.

But, while the Hairy Bikers became celebrated and their cookbooks successful, some worried that their recipes were unhealthy. Their banana French toast recipe, consisting of brioche, bananas, peanut butter and cream, was ominously dedicated to Elvis Presley. One critic suggested that their full-English shakshuka, featuring sausages, lardons and black pudding, “looks as if it should come with a diagram on how to administer CPR”.

Indeed, as their fame expanded, so did their waistbands. By 2012, Myers recalled, he was taking tablets for high blood pressure and to lower his cholesterol, and both he and King were diagnosed as being morbidly obese during a medical. He weighed 17st 12lb, with a 49in waist, while King weighed in at 19st 6lb, with a 50in waistline. “I was prediabetic; human foie gras, basically,” Myers said.

The diagnoses pushed them to make the series The Hairy Dieters: How to Love Food and Lose Weight. Both men lost 3st 7lb during filming and published their most successful series of books afterwards under the general title Hairy Dieters. “Doing it publicly was the thing that encouraged us to make it work. People admired the honesty. We sold about 1.3m copies of our first book. We learned an awful lot from it.”

The following year, 2013, Myers appeared on Strictly Come Dancing, performing a “Tartan tango” to the tune of The Proclaimers’ I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) with his dance partner, Karen Hauer, and becoming, in the words of the show’s judge Len Goodman, “the people’s champion”, winning the weekly popular vote despite sometimes low marks from judges and armchair critics deriding his “ungainly boogying”. He didn’t win, but the Hairy Biker received the longest standing ovation for, fittingly enough, a Meat Loaf-themed paso doble.

Myers, the only child of Jim and Margaret, was born in Barrow-in-Furness ( then in Lancashire but now in Cumbria) and attended the town’s grammar school for boys, where an inspirational teacher, Mr Eaton, encouraged him to develop his artistic skills. He took a fine art degree at Goldsmiths, University of London and a master’s degree in art history.

His first job was as a trainee makeup artist at the BBC. He worked there for 23 years, including a stint on Top of the Pops, before the Hairy Bikers got together. While filming the show in Romania, Myers met Liliana Orzac. “In our hotel there was a striking woman on reception. Nudging Si, I whispered: ‘I fancy her!’” They married in 2011.

In 2022, Myers announced on the podcast Hairy Bikers – Agony Uncles that he had been diagnosed with cancer. He and King made a moving return to the screen in The Hairy Bikers: Coming Home for Christmas in December 2023, in which they discussed his illness and treatment; and had filmed a new series, The Hairy Bikers Go West, which is currently screening on BBC Two, and which King described as “a celebration of a joyous and creative friendship”.

Myers is survived by Liliana and her children, Iza and Sergiu.

🔔 David James Myers, chef and television presenter, born 8 September 1957; died 28 February 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[dailyanarchistposts]

The Islamic Republic

The 1979 revolution swept aside the monarchy and the comprador bourgeoisie that benefited from its rule. These were replaced by a new form of capitalist state, the Islamic Republic. The Iranian system is best described as state capitalist, both under the Pahlavis and the Islamic Republic. By that I mean, it is a system where the state is the main motor for capital accumulation. The private sector and modern industry are supported by state revenues, which mainly come from oil. The upper-level managers and bureaucrats constitute a class who, like those who filled this role in the previous regime, enriched themselves through positions within the state bureaucracy. Control of state power allows these “millionaire mullahs” to amass enormous fortunes. Their investments are global, including in Western democracies. This class now comprises not only those clergy, merchants, and state officials, but also their extended families, who make up a large and wealthy bourgeoisie. A central pillar of this state bureaucracy is the Pasdaran, or “Revolutionary Guards.”[20]

The Revolutionary Guards were formed during the revolution as a way to solidify the Khomeinist position. Khomeini and his supporters were distrustful of the army, as it was closely associated with the Shah’s regime. They also needed to counter the armed leftist guerilla groups who had a formidable presence as a result of their role in the insurrection. Consequently, a militia was created of committed Khomeini supporters, drawing from the militias that had evolved out of the neighborhood committees that sprang up during the revolution. The latter were themselves tied to the local mosques, which were in turn controlled by a central “Revolutionary Committee” presided over by Khomeini himself. After the revolution, these armed committees were purged of non-loyalists and formalized into the revolutionary guard. With the war, they became formalized as a military unit and formed the frontline of the battles. The Pasdaran were, and still are today, ideologically and institutionally tied to the seat of the “supreme leader.” At the time of the Guard’s emergence, this position was occupied by Khomeini, but now filled by Ayatollah Khamenei. Originally a middle-ranking cleric, Khamenei was a committed Islamist militant during the Shah’s period, who would go on to become one of Khomeini’s most ardent supporters, later serving as president for a time during the 1980s. However, irrespective of who is in government, the Pasdaran are autonomous and owe their loyalty to the leader.

Today, the Pasdaran are larger and even more institutionalized, having become one of the central anchors of the state, not only militarily and as a repressive force, but also economically. The Pasdaran are not only a massive military force that parallels the regular army. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, state bureaucracy provided a means of advancement for those previously excluded from state and economic power. The Pasdaran consequently became one of the largest corporations owned by the state, second only to the national Iranian oil company. Their books are completely closed, even to the official government. They draw their arms from the private sector, but also the black market, aided by their control of the borders. Iran routinely executes drug traffickers; indeed, these makeup most executions. But if you are an officer in the Pasdaran it can be a lucrative trade. Civil exams were replaced by religious exams, ensuring that those who were the most ideologically loyal and committed to the state could advance through the ranks and be given positions. The Pasdaran is also responsible for regional repression. For example, they organized and coordinated the repression of the Iraqi demonstrations of 2019. Their elite Al-Quds force has also been instrumental in supporting the Syrian state against its opposition.[21]

Ultimately, at the level of political-ideological organization, the Islamic Republic operates similarly to other one-party authoritarian states, with the difference that religious networks replace the party apparatus. In other words, the Islamic social networks play the role that the party apparatus did in the fascist and Stalinist countries: the mosque is the party headquarters, and the Friday prayer leader is the local commissar, spreading the message of the state to the masses weekly. The Friday prayer at the central mosque in every city is the megaphone of the central government, while the cleric plays the role of the commissar doling out state ideology to those in attendance.

[red-nightskies]

OCS as OBSCURE ASSOCIATIONS

Tagged by my darling dear @perpetuagf 🖤

Tagging @teamhawkeye 🦷 @lxmbert 🦷 @shellibisshe 🦷 @bloodofvalyria 🦷 @ghostfvcker 🦷 @scalpelsister 🦷

ANIMALS: Black adder, figeater beetle,

COLORS: Neon green, Pastel pink, Periwinkle

MONTH: June

SONGS: TRRST - IC3PEAK, Zillakami, Inappropriate - ZAND, A Drug From God - NPC,

NUMBER: 11

PLANTS: Bluebells, Hyacinth

SMELLS: Motor oil, Hairspray, Vodka

GEMSTONES: Opal

TIME OF DAY: Mid-day Sun

SEASON: Summer

PLACES: Junk yards, food-courts, skate parks, dimly lit apartments, grimy bunker

FOOD: Fast food, strawberries, sushi

DRINKS: Pink lemonade, vodka lime and soda,

ELEMENT: Earth

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Virgo

SEASONINGS: Juniper berries, sage, vanilla

SKY: The burning sun

WEATHER: sweltering heat

MAGICAL POWER(S): invisibility

WEAPONS: Cocktail Stick Katana, Kyubi x-MOD2

SOCIAL MEDIA: Instagram

MAKEUP PRODUCT: Glitter, glitter and more glitter

CANDY: Strawberry laces, flying saucers, jelly babies

METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL: Yaiba Kusanagi CT-3X

ART STYLE: Street Art

FEAR: Dying and fading away, never being remembered

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: Succubus

PIECE OF STATIONARY: Glitter gel pen

THREE Emojis: 🪲🖤✨

CELESTIAL BODY: Moon

[mychemicalraymance]

Making this post and then the phone is off for the night. Whats been so cool about these costumes this tour is 2 main things to me, the first of which being the fact that they highlight running theme commonalities between all of the albums, which is like. Really cool because we tend to view them as disparate, but like ! Clown makeup for sure makes me think of party poisons mask and mouse Kat, and lola, and also the weird tinkery turn of the century ism of black parade. The poncho and the face paint is such an interesting combo of all three albums, sort of a danger days garbage bag witch, the black parade embodiment of death, and revenge metal figurehead. The cheerleader especially. Like obv we have the cheerleaders in the black parade, but theyre also super emblematic of revenge. And then they also are figures that lend themselves to an unnatural normalcy that are really easily subverted which makes them super fitting for the whole danger days repurposed post apocalyptic desert vibe. Its just so cool.

Also the second thing is the fact that all of the costumes have a unique underlying sense of "confused" identity, to me. Theyre all distinctly fraught. Like all of these figures are sort of other because they highlight the fact that their stance in culture is entirely contextual and they become other and denaturalized when you remove them from their place < that is basically an explanation of camp. So like theyre all camp other figures. Like. Cheerleader obviously comes to the forefront for that description. A cheerleader is so natural to small-town America that it is practically inherent to womanhood until you remove her from the football game and she becomes creepy, sycophantic, and sexual. A clown is so weird because just a few things have to shift about them culturally and their entire identity changes to the inverse of itself ; clowns used to be genuine, sincere entertainment, and then there was some sort of tectonic shift and they become universally uncanny. Poncho witch and motor oil are less obvious, but their air of costume and self reflexivity are what still make them conscious identities to me like the others. Like. Witch of death as a preacher figure. Trent reznor homage that is just as much of a type of drag as dolly Parton, etc. I cant wait to see the rest i love these.

[prettywhenibleed]

𝕬𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖋𝖊 (Another Life)

Pt 1

OC x AceMerrill/David

18+ NO MINORS

TW: Light swearing, a little bit of a heavy make out sesh

You and Ace first met when you were fifteen years old. You always wore things that, inadvertently, made you the target of peoples cruelty. Today was one of those plentiful days. You were just out in town, walking around window shopping when you were shoved by someone behind you. You managed to catch yourself and not fall to the ground, which only seemed to anger the person that had pushed you. It’s not like you wore some crazy and outrageous outfits or did strange things with your hair and makeup. You actually didn’t wear any makeup besides some mascara and, if you were going to go somewhere nice, you might put on a little bit of deep red lipstick. Your hair was naturally a very dark brown, so dark that it basically looked black and it had a bit of a wave to it. The clothing that you wore was not too different from what the other girls in Castle Rock wore, you just happened to prefer to wear all black, with the occasional red accent. As the boy that had pushed you said some nasty things to you, his two friends that stood on either side of him egging him on and offering their own insults, you could feel yourself wanting to cry. You just wanted to burst out into tears right then and there, but you knew that you couldn’t do that. If you did that, you would just give them what they wanted and it would only show them that you were weak and that you were an easy target for them to taunt and terrorize in the future. 

You swallowed the feeling and tried to walk away from them, but as you turned to leave, one of them, you weren’t quite sure which one, grabbed your arm. His grip was tight and you could tell it was an action that was full of anger. Why he was so angry, you didn’t know and you sure as hell didn’t want to find out. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, freak?” One of the boys spat. Keeping your back to him, you tried to yank your arm from his grip so you could get away from them, you didn’t want whatever this was to escalate into something that could get you hurt. Just as he was about to speak again, he was suddenly yanked away and thrown to the ground by someone, each of his friends following suit as they too, were thrown to the ground. Feeling the hand that previously had a vice-like grip on your arm had released you and hearing the sounds of people hitting the ground and the groans that came with it, you finally turned around. You were shocked at what you saw. You saw none other than Ace Merrill and his gang standing over the three boys that had been harassing you. The Cobras. They were only a year older than you, but they had already made quite the name for themselves in our little town and their reputation was one that was bad enough to make you want to keep your distance from them. That was of course, unless you had a death wish. You had obviously seen them around town a lot, though you had never spoken a single word to any of them before, but I guess today was the day that that would change. As you shook the surprise from their actions from your face, you gave them a small but genuine smile. “Thank you.” You told them, your voice small and quiet from your nerves but it was still loud enough that they had heard you. This earned you a smirk from Ace. He took a few confident steps towards you before stopping. He was now so close to you, that you could smell the scent of the cigarette smoke and motor oil that came off of him. “You’re more than welcome, doll. Couldn’t let those assholes harass a beautiful thing like you, now could we.” He said to you, looking right into your eyes. 

From that moment on, Ace became your very own protector. Anytime that someone would say something unpleasant, do something to upset you or just look at you funny, he would make sure that that person was dealt with. He even told his boys to look out for you too... Well, he more threatened that if they didn’t do something when they saw someone messing with you, he would make them wish they were never born. You wouldn’t realize it until much later, but it was that moment that you fell for Ace Merrill, and he wouldn’t admit it until much, much later, that that was the day that he knew that you were going to be his forever. He wasn’t going to let you go, not ever. As the two of you spent more and more time together, which mostly consisted of you hanging around the Cobras’ hangout, going to the occasional drive-in movie with Ace or him just taking the two of you on a drive so you could be alone and talk without the judgmental stares of the people in town, you both started to realize that, while you didn’t participate in the illegal things that Ace did, nor would he want you to, you were both very similar to each other. The biggest thing was that you were both outcasts, different reasons, but outcasts all the same. When you found out that he also had a love for reading, though he hid it very well and had never told a soul until now, you were very excited. It wasn’t until you two had been together for almost a year that you had finally convinced him to read to you. Since then, it has become somewhat of a thing that you two did. You were now eighteen, Ace being nineteen and ever since the whole event with Gordie Lachance, his three friends and the body, you had been noticing something change in Ace. You didn’t know what it was exactly, you could only speculate. While Ace had told you what happened that day near the train tracks, he didn’t bring you because he didn’t want you to have to see a dead body and boy was Ace glad that you weren’t there when Lachance pulled a gun on him, the change that you had seen in him didn’t make much sense. While yes, his ego took a bit of a hit after being bested by a boy years younger than him, you didn’t think that it was enough to cause all of this. 

It was tonight when Ace opened up a little bit to you. You and Ace were in his car, just enjoying each other’s presence while you listened to the radio play lightly in the background, when he spoke up. He turned to you, taking his time looking over your face as if he was trying his best to memorize every detail of it, before he finally spoke. “I’m going to go away for a little bit, doll.” He told you softly. You were confused, that confusion must have been evident on your face, because Ace spoke again. “I’m going to find somewhere for us to go. Somewhere we can run away to. I’m gonna get you the hell out of here and away from those shitty excuses for parents. ” He clarified. He brought his hand up to your cheek and gently stroked it. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch before taking hold of his hand. You nodded lightly. “You’ll come back for me?” You asked him as you opened your eyes and looked up at him. You knew that he would come back for you but you just wanted to hear him say it. “Always. I’ll always come back for you, Aurora.” His voice was firm but full of love and honesty. “You promise?” You asked with a smile. You already knew the answer. Ace let out a chuckle and smiled back at you. He moved his hand that was on your cheek, to the back of your head and gently pulled your face closer to his as he leaned in to meet you halfway, stopping mere centimeters from you, his lips grazing yours as he replied. “I promise.” He whispered before closing the almost nonexistent gap between you. Your lips moved in sync with each other’s, having done this many times before, but it somehow always left you feeling like it was the first time. The kiss was eager and passionate, filled with all the love that you two shared for each other. As the kiss got more heated, Ace moved his hands down to your hips, leaving them in place for a few moments before swiftly lifting you up slightly and pulling you into his lap. With your legs now on either side of his, you wrapped your arms around his neck. After a while of making out, you ground into his lap, rolling your hips slightly. Ace let out a moan at your sudden movements, pulling back from your kiss to look at you. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna have to do a lot more than just kiss you, doll.” He said in a breathy voice, his hands already moving up and down your thighs. You leaned back in and gave him a slow, lingering kiss before parting your lips from his slightly. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want, Ace.” You whispered back to him. He gave you a devilish smirk and shook his head. “God, you make me wanna do bad things to you when you talk like that and look at me the way you’re lookin right now, doll.”

The next day Ace packed a couple bags and put them into his car before making his way to your house to say goodbye to you before he left. You held onto him tight as tears welled up in your eyes. “Why can’t I go with you again?” You asked him, your voice muffled slightly from your face still being buried into his chest. “Cause I don’t know what I’m gonna find. I wanna be sure of where we are going before I bring you.” He said to you as he ran his fingers through your hair. You looked up at him, a tear finally making its way out of your eye. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you, doll. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.” He told you, his voice soft and you could swear it sounded like he may have been holding back tears himself. Though you knew he would never let them slip or even show. “Okay, but just. Just don’t forget about me, okay Ace.” You said to him. You knew he wouldn’t forget about you, but deep down, you had this sinking feeling. He gave you a grin and chuckled. “Not a chance. That's not even possible.” He reassured you. We shared one last long and passionate kiss before he got into his car and left. For the first week, Ace had called you every single day, sometimes multiple times a day, filling you in on what was going on and to just talk to you, admitting at one point that he called you multiple times a day sometimes, just so he could hear your voice. You both missed each other so much and you couldn’t wait until he found wherever it would be that you would be running away to, so that you could see each other again. It was a few days into the second week of Ace being gone when it went silent. You were worried when he didn’t call you that day, but just convinced yourself that maybe he wasn't able to find a payphone, or maybe he had run out of change…. After the third day of not hearing from him, you were in a bit of a panic. You were terrified that something had happened to him. Saying that Ace wasn't exactly a safe driver, would be a massive understatement. You were hoping with everything in you that he hadn’t gotten into an accident and hurt himself, or worse. With no way to contact Ace, all you could do was wait. So, that’s what you did, you waited and waited and waited. The weeks turned into months and those months soon turned into a year. 

No word of Ace ever reached you again after your last phone call with him. Your heart broke at the thought that maybe, he had just found someone else, someone new and better than you to live that happy life with. That happy life that he had promised you. As the years went on, you isolated yourself more and more. This year marks the seventh year that Ace has been gone. You were now in your mid-twenties, but something was wrong… Off. While all the kids that you went to school with grew up and looked their age, you didn’t. You looked as if you were still only eighteen years old. You didn’t know what was happening, you didn’t know how  it was happening, but it was. You searched for years, but never came up with anything. As another three years passed, you realized that other people had started to notice as well. It was then that you decided to leave. You had hoped that, when you did finally leave Castle Rock, you would be leaving with Ace, but you don’t always get what you want, do you? Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you continued to pack your car. You didn’t bother taking one last look at the house or town that you had grown up and spent your whole life in. It wasn’t exactly a place that you cared to think much about. Though, you knew that there would always be one thing that you would silently thank Castle Rock for, and that was Ace. Even though you hadn’t heard from or seen Ace in a decade now, Jesus, has it really been that long? Despite the many years that have gone by, your love for him would and has never wavered. He would always be your first and only love. No matter what, no matter how much time passes, that one fact will always remain true. Your heart will always and forever, belong to Ace Merrill.

Your decision to keep moving every four to five years is what had brought you here. Santa Carla, murder capital of the world. The year was now 1987 and you were, in your eyes, practically an old lady now at the age of forty six. You didn’t look to be a middle aged woman though, you still only looked eighteen years old. All these years later and you still couldn’t figure out what had happened to you back then. It was hard, not being able to make any long lasting friendships. Though, you never did have friends back then either. Well, except for Ace and his gang of course. Even though it has been almost three decades since Ace disappeared from your life, you never could bring yourself to even think about moving on. Moving here to Santa Carla, you felt different. It was as if you could sense something was about to happen. Whether that thing would be good or bad, you were yet to find out. Over the years you had managed to amass quite the savings, so when you got here, you went straight to the apartment that you had been looking at and met up with the agent there. You did what you had to and soon, the apartment was yours. After getting your things inside, of which there wasn’t much since you moved so often, you decided on taking a much needed shower. You had originally wanted to just go straight to bed after you were done, but you quickly decided against that when you got out and got dressed. You felt a strange pull to the boardwalk that you had seen on your way to your apartment. By the time you had gotten dressed and was ready to head out, the sun had sunk into the horizon and the sky was now dark. You felt almost giddy as you parked your car and made your way through the crowd on the boardwalk, looking at all the stalls you passed and everything that they were selling. You had stopped at one stall in particular, it was one that sold little trinkets, jewelry and such. You were pulled deep into a memory of you and Ace when you spotted a locket. It looked so much like the one that Ace had given to you for your eighteenth birthday. He had even managed to put a photo of each of you in there. Your hand instinctively went to the piece of jewelry that still hung around your neck. You hadn’t taken it off in almost three decades. God you missed him. You had hoped through the years that maybe one day you would see him again, but you never did. You didn’t notice, but there was someone in the crowd watching you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the woman that stood in front of him, a woman that he hadn’t seen in so many years and one he thought he would never see again.

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