#rag & bone

[theflashfashioncloset]

Iris West: Rust Brown Cardigan

Iris West: Rust Brown Cardigan

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[dcfashionfool]

Men’s Summer Fashion Trends for 2022

Men’s Summer Fashion Trends for 2022 @dcfashionfool #menssummertrends #mensfashion

We are now in the height of summer and it is time to make sure you are up to date on all the summer trends!  We hope you’ve cleaned out your closets because you are going to want to make room for some new essentials for the season. While you still may be rocking the spring trends, The DCFashion Fool is now ready to equip you with the men’s summer fashion trends for 2022. We are barely a couple…

[thefashionistacook]

Rag & Bone

Rag & Bone

Rag & Bone Now having a friends and family sale! 

[perfettamentechic]

Summer Outfit by Paola Moretti

Summer Outfit by Paola Moretti #outfitoftheday #summeroutfit #summerstyle #ootd #wwt #diesel #only #renécaovilla #karllagerfeld #veronicabeard #mulberry #fredleighton #suzannekalan #katespade #ciaté #ragandbone #iho #paolamoretti #perfettamentechic

Costume: Diesel Gonna: Only Scarpe: René Caovilla Borsa: Karl Lagerfeld Cappello: Veronica Beard Occhiali: Mulberry Orecchini: Fred Leighton Anello: Suzanne Kalan Cover: Kate Spade Nail: Ciaté Profumo: Rose by Rag&Bone Fashion Blogger: Paola Moretti Instagram: paolamorettiiho

[sinfulforrest]

mwehehehe having more yandere thoughts tonight, this time about a vengeful ghost man of mine, Keiran!

lil warning for mentions of self starving/disordered eating from anxiety, noncon and noncon possession!

♡ Keiran hates the living. He envies them so, so much he can't begin to put it into words. He hates them, hates their warmth, their life, their presence on the world. How is it fair that others get to live whilst his life was cut short? Worse still, how was it fair that he had taken to stalking you after you had explored the crypts that he had made his home!? You seemed so excited and happy to be there, disturbing his 'rest'...it was the best excuse he had when he followed you to your home. It was only fair that he got to explore your home too, no?

♡ He found you pathetic honestly, watching you bumble around your home as you searched for objects that he had moved to mess with you, watching you shake in fear every time he forced your surroundings to make unnatural noises. You were so cute when you were scared, but that was amplified when you became brave and determined. He wanted to break you. He couldn't decide where he got his greatest pleasure from; it was either when he would tug on your clothes, causing you to yelp in surprise, or when he would lightly tap onto your shoulder, watching your head whip around at lightning speed.

♡ One night whilst you sleep he floats over, lying down to face you, pressing a finger on your forehead. Immediately your face scrunches up and you tremble. He smiled, watching you whimper and shake from the nightmare he'd just given you. You began beading up with sweat, tossing and turning with twitching limbs before waking up with a cry, clutching your chest as you hyperventilated. What went from a fond appreciation for you turned into envy when he realised that he couldn't feel the searing heat of your skin after these nightmares, and with that, he decides to amp them up for you.

♡ More weeks pass, and the nightmares only worsen for you. In your dreams you're stalked endlessly by a pale figure, hair billowing around its form, whispering incomprehensible words that pierce through your eardrums and lodge themselves right into your skull, clawing at your flesh with ice-like nails, making your skin instantly frostbitten. In your waking hours, you swear you can now see the figure from your nightmares down the corridors of your home. Eyes sunken in, chains adorning the bone-thin wrists of the figure. Tattered rags for clothes and a hole in its abdomen, complete with ghostly innards gently swaying like its hair. You feel so cold now.

♡ Keiran likes how close to death you look. Tired, sunken eyes. Jumpy skittishness. You'd even stopped eating due to how nervous you'd gotten. He loved it. He loved how malleable you were for him. He wanted to touch this new you, wanted to really feel your body. He decides that night to give it a go whether you like it or not. He lays over your curled up form and lowers himself down, and down, until your skin and bones house his spirit.

♡ You wake up against your will, coughing and spluttering. Something wasn't right. You felt disoriented, not quite connected to your body. You try to move and sit up to ease your laboured breaths, but to your dismay you find that you can't even make a finger twitch. Was this sleep paralysis? That theory is thrown out of the window when your arm starts moving on its own.

♡ You can't shout. You can't scream. You can't even whimper as you hand slowly travels down in between your legs, resting right by your sex. You find yourself speaking in a tone of voice that isn't yours.

"It feels so good to finally be able to feel your warmth..." you croon. You're terrified. You chuckle, before your other arm snaps and bends unnaturally, sending searing pain coursing through your body. Eventually the wet crunching stops, and your other hand is clumsily fondling your nipples.

♡ Keiran couldn't get enough of the warmth he had coveted for so long. He could hear your weak spirit screaming at him from within you to stop and to get the hell out, but he merely shoved it down further. He'd soon get you out, get this vessel for himself. That's what he kept saying, anyways.

♡ Your lower hand begins playing with your sex now, and you can't stop the tears that flow from your grinning face. It hurts. Your face, nipples, groin, body. It hurts so much. And it won't stop. You desperately try to move and fight back against whatever force is making you do this, but all that does is just make you feel even heavier and powerless. You lay and take it, giving up, letting your body cum against its will.

♡ Keiran exits your body after that, feeling the buzzing coursing through your shared body fade as more of him left. He couldn't believe that had actually worked. You stare at the pale figure before you, bewildered and dazed, your tears making it look wobbly and distorted. Keiran stares back at you with an unreadable face.

♡ Filled with a surge of confidence he dives back into your weak vessel again, not ready to give it up. This was his body now, he decided. You and him would be one, whether you liked it or not. Not that you'd have a say really; you wouldn't want him to take your life away and to tear your soul out from within your body, would you?

[the-huldras-back]

On the Boardwalk, On the Shore

Had this on a reblog on another blog that got censored almost immediately, so I decided to start a whole new blog for my writing about it! Anyways I was really gripped by the idea of mermaids transforming like salmon do in the wild.

Aluya’hicetya, A mermaid in her youth, was a darling girl in that time of her life when her kind felt the draw to rebel, swimming up to the surface to breathe the fresh, warm sea air. The old ones in her pod said it was good in moderation to keep parasites out of the skin, and the older ones said that they shouldn’t stray far from the deep waters, or entertain themselves with humans. “It’s not like the old days,” They’d say. “You can’t just sink a ship in a terrible rage like you used to.” But what none of them were willing to discuss, even in the safety and comfort of their warm undersea vents, were the consequences of letting lonely girls wander too close to the shore.

It was nothing so pedestrian as a simple kidnapping, one of those old stories of selkies captured by longshoremen or boys catching a fish bound to grant you a wish. The danger never came from the shore, but inside of the young who sat under dazzling human lights, listening to snippets of conversation on the wind. Some argued that the sea air could turn young merfolk strange, making them unrecognizable to their pods. 

Of course, Merfolk were dangerous to humans too. In the old days, plenty of sea creatures made easy meals out of the stupid and the unlucky, and there was no taboo against eating them, but most avoided it unless they were desperate. Search parties churning up their water and threatening their limbs with boat propellers were bad for the community, so in these days, only the witches made a habit of disappearing juicy morsels from the shore.

Aluya, though initially thinking about whether the stray boogie-boarder might make a good snack despite the warnings, was instead haunted by the sound wafting out over the chatter of folks on the boardwalk, resting in near invisibility on the rocks in the dark and listening to these strange beings with their strange chatter. Human tongues came easily to Merfolk, the pink muscles in their mouths just as capable of English as the haunting sounds in the deep. So one night after many years of listening and watching, there came a sound that made her heart ache, and she crept dangerously close to listen. 

Aluya was no stranger to the machines humans used to play what they called music, the sick, crunchy, compressed garbage that offended the ears and drowned out the voice, but this was different. She started to recognize it from her perch on the rocks, hidden by the blindingly yellow lights up on the pier. It always went the same way: “Can you play Sweet Child of Mine?” “Do you know ‘House of the Rising Sun’? The Dolly Parton one!” “Hey girl, you know any Nirvana?” 

Then the music would kick up. Slow at first, then with more confidence, a small rechargeable amp carrying the sound over the waves. Human technology was as impressive as old, deep magics to her, the way small sounds became large in their hands. It was startling at first, Aluya foolishly trying to match the keening with her own throat, forgetting she was being sneaky and that her song couldn’t respond to the call without water for her to speak into. Her kind didn’t have throats made to communicate above the waves. It made her red with embarrassment, but then she sat and listened for hours on the rocks, haunted by the clear tones of quality steel cords and even better chords. 

It took weeks of watching and listening on the rocks before she found who it belonged to, a young woman who walked the long way through the dark once the boardwalk closed, late into the night. Rough-looking and ragged, the scraggly musician was all bones, slinking like a stray cat through the night back to a small cottage by the sea. The ancient detritus of lures and netting in the bay outside the house told Aluya everything she needed to know. A pang in her chest, like the long prelude to a heart attack.A fisherman’s daughter’s daughter’s daughter, whiling away her hours on the earth by the sea, playing songs for money. It made her heart ache in a way that she didn’t expect. 

It wasn’t about rebelling anymore, she didn’t think. The night air wasn’t so great for its own sake. Instead, she would leave her pod in the afternoons when the sun on the waves made her impossible to see before posting up on a rock, sitting to listen, then escorting her home, all without any real plan or ability to reason out why she was doing it.

Her family and friends were quick to question her of course, but Aluya simply claimed the warm night air helped with an itch in her deep blue scales, and that she was rebelling, Mom. That seemed to satisfy her initially worried parents, and she felt so clever, sneaking off to listen and learn. Before long, Aluya knew every tune this strange girl knew, memorized them and their particular keenings like she would the voice of a friendly acquaintance. She followed along as well, with the snippets of people listening on the boardwalk or the girl’s own lilting tones when she deigned to do more than play the instrument. In this way, she learned her favorites, like Dokken, Whitesnake, and Genesis, and the ache in her chest grew with each passing evening.

Her dreams, though, weren’t of the usual mermaid things like salty fish and slippery eels and whatever else a mermaid might dream of. They were strange and dark, her inner eye drawn towards a cold, dark void in the shadows cast by instinct and the whispering of old, low voices. They grew harder to ignore, night after night, and as she listened, she learned things.

On waking, Aluya would find that she had spent her night's sleep swimming, or carving things into the walls of her grotto, or floating in the deepest, coldest part of her room, hot and irritable from bad sleep. All of this she could put up with, but the ache in her chest, like there was something she was missing out on, made her so jealous she could bite down on her tongue, that was the part that galled. It was miserable but became so much worse when she started to notice changes. 

Small crevices she had swum through since she was a guppy suddenly got tight, and she had to wriggle to get through. Some of her blue scales had started to flake off, and only in the yellow lights of the distant boardwalk could she see that new ones were growing in, a deep and vibrant pink that worried her. Her teeth! How could she forget. Mermaids had jaws of teeth made to fillet fish bones and suck down meat without choking, but what she’d worried were cracks or damage were instead obviously the smallest of serrations, appearing across her mouth in growing numbers each time she woke. 

Looking into her reflection in old glass and the family’s scavenged standing mirror, she was different. Pink all over where it mattered, when all the family’s scales were a deep blue, colors that would hide her within moments of swimming away, muscle and growth all over, so she towered and loomed in her own home, and a more powerful jaw, her muscles developing quickly to let her crush bone rather than work the meat off of it. She looked completely feral.

And magic! Mermaids didn’t do magic, she’d always been taught, only witches in the cold deep did, to warm themselves and bring storms down on disrespectful ships. She’d never heard of what made someone a witch, but now she understood as she carved on the walls of her grotto awake, using heavy metal fishhooks from the shore to scrape esoterica she barely understood and felt compelled to perform. With each dream, the old voices taught her a new trick or cantrip, and her family grew more worried, clearly on the edge of bringing up her changes but unable to bring themselves to do so until Aluya was towering over them, having grown at least a foot in a few short months, deep pink scales growing in where she used to have her mother’s blue. 

It wouldn’t be too much longer before they withdrew from her, giving only distant but polite answers to her questions about dinner and the weather topside, watching with disapproving eyes when she slinked out into the wider ocean to visit her musician and rest atop the sharp black rocks. 

Aluya knew the feeling she was experiencing, after feeling it tear at her guts for months now, all through the spring and into the hot, hot summer. Laying on rocks still warm from the sun, Aluya was absolutely certain that she was lovesick, and that it was causing the strange changes. She was becoming a witch, one of the feared merfolk whose strange ways and instinctive knowledge of the magic of their leviathan ancestors made them outcast from good and decent oceanic society. She’d grown too preoccupied to care though, finding freedom in her newfound size and strength. When it wasn’t worrying Ayula, she found it exhilarating that she seemed to be stronger and faster than before, able to kill and eat much larger, richer prey for her supper, even the mighty tuna unable to evade her in her new, monstrous state. She’d eat this rich food and feel it turn in her stomach, unable to fill the hole in her with food, and something even stranger happened to her as she listened to all those old rock songs on the pier. 

Opening her mouth, Ayula found she could speak! Some new adaptation with the change meant that as those chords wafted out into the air, she could catch them and sing along in time, even if only to herself, her deep, husky voice stirring from deep in her aching chest, crooning out her Void-laced tune across the night air, giggling to herself when her bewitched notes stunned animals on the shore or drunken beachgoers. Before long, she was testing herself, seeing how long she could leave someone spellbound on the shore, siren song keeping them in a stupor. She knew she was pushing it when that music kicked up on the boardwalk and she just couldn’t help herself, following along with her beloved’s clever fingers. 

“Yesterday, and days before. Sun is cold, and rain is hard. I know…” Her voice left an entire group spellbound, all of them still like deer in headlights around the fire they’d built up next to the water, a dozen humans all trapped in her spell till she let them go. It felt powerful and right, like she could sing them all into the sea for her next meal. But there was only one girl she wanted, and her song couldn’t beat out the cry of a steel guitar.

That was when she began to feel the most miraculous transformation coming along, the whispers growing urgent in her dreams as she rested now in a shipwreck, the old metal hull of a tugboat caked in occult symbols, fetishes made by instinct making her sleep more lucid, easier to remember the words of the tutors in her blood. That was when she learned the greatest, most taboo of mer magic. 

Ayula waited though, afraid and frightened for the first time since her transformation began, until she couldn’t stand it for another night longer, putting on the things she’d need. Human clothes and human things, pilfered from the water. She dragged them ashore, and as she left the safety of the sea foam, getting covered in scratchy sand, her tail started to disappear, melting like it had never been there, and then she was just a tall, wet teenager, quickly changing under the pier. Dressed in shorts and a shirt that barely fit her powerful frame, Ayula recognized in the mirror of a nearby jeep that she could pass for human, just so long as she didn’t make a habit of showing off her recessed gills or big, razor-sharp smile. She tied her long hair back, shuddering at the sensation of being dry for the first time in her life, and then headed up the stairs next to the boardwalk, ready to use her newfound voice to make her feelings known, one request at a time. 

Peering down at her beloved, Ayula reached into her pocket and took out a mason jar of quarters she’d found and dried on the rocks for weeks now, counting out five dollars' worth of change, before dumping the sum into the guitar case in front of the blonde woman, stunned and shy now despite her monstrous size and ability by her beloved’s lovely, fair features, and asked in a halting voice, “C-could you, um, well… Do you know any Dokken?” She knew that was one of the girl’s favorites, and her smile made all of Ayula’s transformations worth it.

[jettastic-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: OFF-WHITE RIPSTOP CROSS BODY CAMERA BAG BLACK UNISEX GREEN INDUSTRIAL STRAP *NWT.

[digitalcombination]

 Men Clothes Shopping And Online Websites And Brands

 Men Clothes Shopping And Online Websites And Brands

If you are looking for an upscale style, you can shop online for men’s clothing at several sites. These sites offer a variety of designer names and high-street brands. Some of these include Rag & Bone, Hugh Boss, Rick Owens, Stone Island, Moncler, and Off-white. There are also many smaller brands, such as Assembly Label, Neuw Denim, Rhude, Fear of God, and more. A return policy A good online…

[alexandremartinezblogita]

RAG & BONE celebra l'unione con la collezione Holiday 2021

RAG & BONE celebra l’unione con la collezione Holiday 2021

Il fotografo James Brodribb ha catturato la campagna Holiday 2021 di Rag & Bone ©RAG & BONE, Fotografia di James Brodribb Il marchio di moda newyorkese RAG & BONE ha presentato la sua Holiday 2021 Collection con una campagna scattata dal fotografo di moda James Brodribb. La collezione, che esplora i valori fondamentali del marchio – qualità, artigianato, versatilità e funzionalità – evidenzia…

[misslacito]

Jessica Alba

Jessica Alba ha vuelto a la vida pública por todo lo alto tras su maternidad. Y es que una cosa no está reñida con la otra. Además, Honest, su firma cosmética, está subiendo como la espuma. Vamos a ver sus últimas apariciones!

House of Harlow y Chanel.

  (more…)

[elenaindolfi]

SHEIN Mixed Print Striped Cuff And Neck

SHEIN Mixed Print Striped Cuff And Neck

SHEIN Mixed Print Striped Cuff And Neck by elena-indolfi featuring a short sleeve dress

Short sleeve dress €9,75 – shein.com

Long coat €12 – shein.com

Floral Lace €72 – zazzle.com

Rag & bone block heel boots €160 – blueandcream.com

White purse €9,75 – shein.com

[shopyourtvcom]

Atypical: Season 1 Episode 7 Julia’s Navy Pinstriped Pants Julia Sasaki (Amy Okuda) wears these navy blue pin striped straight leg skinny pants in this episode of Atypical, "I Lost My Poor Meatball". They are the Rag & Bone Simone Pinstripe Pants. Buy them HERE for $295.00

[socialoutcast-16-blog]

Untitled #1856

Untitled #1856 by social-outcast-16 featuring a white collar shirt T By Alexander Wang white collar shirt$175 – jades24.com Distressed boyfriend jeansprettylittlething.us Converse black high top$65 – asos.com Rag bone handle bagblueandcream.com Charlotte Russe cage ringcharlotterusse.com Triangle earringszaful.com John Varvatos cologne fragranceperfumeemporium.com

[chipandco]

In honor of Mickey’s 90th Anniversary rag & bone has collaborated with Disney for a fierce new collection. The new rag & bone x Disney Mickey Mouse collaboration is a fabulous celebration of the Mickey: The True Original Campaign.

This unisex collection offers a selection of best-selling rag & bone styles, with bold and iconic Mickey Mouse references. Even more exciting, is that the rag & bone X Disney Mickey Mouse collection will actually be worn by Disney cast members working at ‘Mickey: The True Original Exhibition,’ which opens in New York City on November 8.

The stunning new capsule collection will be available beginning November 1 on rag-bone.com, shopdisney.com, and at a variety of rag & bone stores as well as through select wholesale partners worldwide.

  Chic New rag & bone X Disney Mickey Mouse Collection In honor of Mickey's 90th Anniversary rag & bone has collaborated with Disney for a fierce new collection.

[fashionphenomenon]

Untitled #162

Untitled #162 by riseofaqueen featuring white handbags Cropped shirtprettylittlething.com STELLA McCARTNEY white skirtmytheresa.com Rag bone lace up flatintermixonline.com Leather walletshopunder.com Maison Margiela white handbagmodalist.com Miu Miu cat-eye glassestherealreal.com