#prison clothes because i have no sense of fashion and also because i like the idea that he continues to wear it post escape under his armor

[3nderm1te]

WAIT. I HAVE A FUN DREBLR GAME. all of you design your version of c!dream on this picrew. lets see how many c!dreams we have!!

[starcurtain]

Everyone on Twitter playfully dragging Aventurine for his crop top and track pants fit, and while I agree that this is hilarious and should be meme'd into oblivion, I also can't help but think that the Aventurine fandom as a whole should definitely embrace turning "He's kind of tacky, wouldn't know a subtle outfit unless it was picked by Jade, and wears bizarrely out-of-touch fits on his days off just because he personally thinks they look cool" into an endearing fanon character trait.

Because like, canonically? It makes perfect sense.

As a child, his family didn't have the luxury of giving him a wide variety of clothes in different styles or fabrics. He wore what he could get. Then, we're only ever shown adult Kakavasha wearing rags until joining the IPC.

We know from his character stories that he was kept extremely out of the loop on world news and mainstream media as a slave and literally wouldn't know anything about clothing other than seeing it on other people.

From the time he was a child, wearing whatever his family could pull together, to the time he became an adult prisoner wearing literal scraps, there was never a need or even reasonable opportunity for him to learn about fashion or the social pressures of "dressing to fit in."

The first thing he's told to do as a member of the Stonehearts is "Go pick out new clothes," and the next time we see him, he's wearing the most peacock-esque outfit possible. When Jade told him to pick out his clothes, he literally went in completely blind with no lessons on how to appropriately dress for any adult occasion at all.

While I do think that one of the first things Aventurine would have done as a new Stoneheart is research how to establish a certain "character" for himself and how to dress to give a specific impression, I also think that Aventurine would delight in finally, finally having the power to present himself exactly as he chooses--and that would likely be very strongly informed by an entire child- and young-adulthood growing up without a single social pressure to "dress normal."

Given that he never had someone to teach him how to dress in any modern intergalactic style in his formative years, I think that it makes perfect sense for his "fashion" sense to be extremely unique to him, with little outside influence except for being strongly based on what he knows best: the luxuries the Avgin people could gather from the deserts of Sigonia-IV.

Ratio accuses him of being "flashy," but Aventurine likely loads up all his personally-picked outfits with turquoise jewels, fur trim, and gold metal accents because that's what he grew up perceiving as status symbols and signs of prosperity. Of course he's flashy! Why would he not want to wear furs and jewels now that he has them?! What do you mean wearing six gold bangles is overkill with a t-shirt? No such thing as overkill, come on!

Topaz dropping the Star Rail equivalent of "You look like what would happen if Fashion Week was themed on the yakuza and the Roaring 20s at the exact same time" every other month.

"Well, I think it looks great!"

tl;dr: Aventurine can definitely do his research and blend his outfits into any scenario if needed, but when left to his own devices, he absolutely wears the most over-the-top and/or bizarrely unmodern and "I couldn't care less what is currently trending" fits because no one ever taught him fashion sense when he was growing up, he's finally got the autonomy to dress himself in whatever he thinks looks best, and he's still a little bit drunk on the opportunity to bath in the natural luxuries he longed for but could never have as a child.

Just sayin'.

[hellotailor]

Apologies if you've already done a post on this and I've just missed it, but can I ask for your take on the pyjamas worn by the cast of interview with vampire? I mean technically they're not a 100% necessary item, but just from a quick look there seems to be a lot of variety and they do change over the series

ok, i’m delighted by the specificity of this question, and it turns out that i have a VERY extensive answer.

there’s a lot of sleepwear in IWTV due to the volume of bedroom/coffin scenes, and like any other outfit, these costumes are shaped by characterization and historical period. for instance claudia initially wears a long, modest, frilly nightgown - an old-fashioned style that plays into her girlish doll wardrobe purchased by louis and lestat. however her sleepwear matures over the years, including a trendy lace nightdress with bloomers in the 1920s (note the rectangular silhouette), and a pink padded jacket/pastel robe outfit in 1940s paris. she's following contemporary trends while charting a visible trajectory from child to adult.

when i wrote about the Théâtre des Vampires coven costumes, i noted that while their wardrobes share certain themes (ie. monochrome patterns and stripes), they each have specific personal tastes. that holds true for sleepwear. in the S2 finale we see the coven going to bed in their coffins, with Eglee in a gorgeous (maybe 1940s?) robe, Celeste in a striped pajama suit reflecting her 1920s-30s cabaret style, and Armand in a plain grey set of prison jammies because he's Suffering.

of course, the star pajama outfits all belong to Louis and Lestat, playing into their wealthy domestic aesthetic in S1. they receive multiple bedroom/coffin scenes, and Lestat's gold Leyendecker robe is obviously iconic.

touching on the historical side of things for a moment, pajamas (as in a matching buttondown top and loose pants) were popularized in the western world in the 19th century, as a repurposed south asian import - kind of like how banyans became trendy among the upper classes in 18th century england. this was when loungewear started to catch on as a concept, both in terms of dressing gowns and smoking jackets (which you could wear while socializing at home) and actual pajamas, which became unisex in the 1920s.

back in his human life in the 18th century, Lestat probably slept naked or wore a shapeless white nightgown (and possibly a nightcap, the sexiest of garments). but in New Orleans he adopts Louis' lifestyle, which involves a luxurious wardrobe of fashionable menswear. they're both into shopping and looking good, and i think they enjoy the ritual of getting dressed together each night.

(i also have a personal theory that Lestat may prefer to sleep fully clothed because his formative traumatic memory involves waking up naked in the dark. after all, he doesn't need pajamas to stay warm, and he doesn't have a recent habit of wearing them in his human life like Louis does. then again, maybe he just enjoys having a new outfit for every occasion!)

in Dubai, we only get one scene (iirc) with Louis and Armand in their pajamas, lying in bed wearing outfits that tie into the striped prison bar imagery of their bedroom. Armand is in warmer brown tones (like his Paris wardrobe) while Louis is in black and grey, like the rest of his Dubai outfits. i'd also note that this is the one place where they're genuine in private, meaning that they aren't putting on a show for Daniel. so this is potentially Armand's most relaxed costume in the present day.

the fact that they're wearing this kind of old-school sleepwear feels very appropriate for their whole deal, imo. in the 21st century, a lot of people just sleep in boxers and t-shirts or whatever. there's a slightly 20th century vibe to wearing a full set of buttondown pajamas, and Armand's outfit reads as more stylish (and possibly more wealthy) than your average millennial guy. which makes sense! they're old men.

i think we can assume that every single thing in their Dubai home is ferociously expensive, even when it doesn't need to be. considering the way Louis gives himself a modern makeover in the finale, i do wonder if he'll switch over to sleeping in t-shirts etc next season, or if he'll stick with variations of the same sleepwear he wore during his mortal life.

p.s. all of my iwtv design posts are available on this tag!

[moibakadesu]

Okay, here we go, my interpretations and rambles about the 4th anniversary art. I know everybody is doing that right now and a lot of my thoughts might be the same as a lot of other people's, but the brainworms are active.

Let's start that it is brilliant that they went with a funeral theme for the 4th anni and to top it off they released it on the 4th of April. As a lot of you might know, 4 stands for death in Japanese (and various other asian countries), as it is pronounced the same.

My initial prediction for the art was, that it would be the funeral of the prisoners themselves and that we would see them lying on the frame of flowers (chrysanthemum, white lilies and white roses, all traditional funeral flowers). But as it turns out, we have the prisoners attending the funeral of their victims, so to speak.

So of course we have everybody in classic funeral attire, and sadly that doesn’t make for a lot of variety for the guys, sans the shoes, some buttons and different seams and pockets, but they all look splendid in it (and it stops Fuuta from combining it with some ridiculous fashion choices), so I can vibe with it.

For the girls we have of course a bit more to look at in terms of different clothes, the ones who are still visiting school in their respective uniforms, although in dark tones to fit in the whole composition, and Mappi with a simple dress as well as Kotoko with a chic blazer and trousers combo.

The wardens take the role of the priest who would attend a traditional Japanese funeral, how very fitting. Everybody is very pretty. I do still prefer akka’s art, but kee did a very good job capturing everybody as well.

Now the really interesting part is of course how everybody is holding their bouquets. I think the general consensus is that they stands for the victims, or in a wider sense the emotional stance that each prisoner has in regards to their murder. Let’s go in order from left to right.

Mikoto: Very prim and proper. I am in the camp that thinks that Mikoto committed the murder, not John, but also that he genuinely doesn’t remember anymore (due to stress-induced amnesia etc.). So it makes a lot of sense that he holds it in the most neutral and normal way possible. He doesn’t know the victim, he doesn’t have any particular feelings regarding it that he can remember.

Kazui: Holding it very lightly, but not as careless as if you would have to fear it falling to the ground. Maybe symbolic for the lack of emotional commitment in his marriage, due to being homosexual? Somewhat fitting to the lyrics of Cat, “let’s keep it simple”, keep it casual, these feelings are not real and very fleeting.

Shidou: Oh, he is interesting. He is holding the flowers exactly like you would a young baby, proper head and body support with both his hands and arm, while being very gentle with it. Further evidence that his murder ended up being one of his sons. As I assume ending up braindead after an accident and Shidou having to give the okay to use him as an organ donor.

Fuuta: My angry little ginger. And his anger shines through, what are you gripping your flowers so tightly for, little man? He is holding it almost like a weapon, very much the hero of justice with his sword ready to strike. I find it interesting that he is the only prisoner not smiling. I thought maybe because he is the one who is the most terrified about what his actions have led to? He was deeply riddled by remorse from the beginning after all, as much as he didn't want to admit that.

Haruka: Oh Haruka, what are you doing? His is … interesting. My theory is still that the murder he is actually is in Milgram for is a suicide, and the way he is holding the flowers does a good job in supporting that thought. He is holding the bouquet upside down, with not much apparent care for its state, some petals falling on the floor, and more importantly, on himself. I think this might represent how he has little to none self-worth and care for himself. Another thing I did see a japanese fan on Twt talk about was the meaning of an upside down bouquet. Apparently there is a superstition about holding flowers upside down, so that they … absorb water faster. This is both a good way to show Haruka’s innocence about the world as he would possibly believe such a thing as well as … very grim, as I think he drowned himself.

Yuno: Similar to Shidou she is holding her flowers a lot like you would an infant, and … well, that speaks for itself I would say. There is no ill feeling or disrespect towards the unborn life, is what just not meant to be with her.

Muu: Holding her bouquet behind her back, just like she does not want the fact that it might in fact have been her fault behind her victim act. Could also go very well with how she most likely did hide the box cutter out of sight until she struck.

Mahiru: She is holding her flowers very gently, delicately, with a lot of love, of course, it’s Mappi after all. Maybe almost a bit too close to her, if she is not careful she could crush or squish them easily. As it is in line with how destructive her relationship ended up being.

Amane: Oh Amane, the disrespect, haha. Carelessly discarded behind her. Sinners are worthless and need to be punished, right? Nothing wrong with quite literally stepping over dead bodies. The little girl is quite savage, I have to give her that much.

Kotoko: She is a bit hard for me to read. Her grip on the bouquet is concealed, does she maybe not want to admit how tightly she is holding on to it as a parallel how she does not want to admit to her sadistic tendencies, because it is after all always for justice, nothing else. Hmmm.

[monsterblogging]

Fuck JKR: How To Create A Harry Potter-Esque Aesthetic Without Any Harry Potter In It

So I saw a few posts from people mentioning that a reason people might be into Harry Potter is because of the aesthetic or atmosphere, and ya know what? I can't even argue that, because if there's one thing about HP, it's that it Sure Does Have Aesthetic And Atmosphere.

So! I'm gonna tell you how to STEAL ITS LOOK! Because:

JK Rowling considers ANY support of her work to be support of her politics.

Fan content/fan merch is still free advertisement for Rowling's work. YOU might not choose to give her money, but you can't be sure you won't pull people into the fandom who will.

Everyone should create more things that aren't tied to corporate-owned IP, period.

So. Most things in these films have an aged, antique look. You'll see a lot of brown hues, both on sets and on people's clothes. There's a lot of near-blacks (especially charcoals and walnuts) and lighter grays on the sets, especially from the third film onwards. (Wood is more often than not stained dark, while lighter hues are often provided by bricks or plaster.) The last two films use a lot of stormy blues and grays. Prisoner of Azkaban also emphasizes contrast between tones, which heightens a sense of texture. True black also appears throughout the films, such as on students' uniforms and many Death Eaters' outfits, and on the chairs in Malfoy Manor. White appears occasionally, especially on Hedwig, students' shirts, or during winter scenes, but pure white isn't otherwise really common. Paper or parchment is usually warm beige. There's also a lot of silver, gold, and brass, often appearing on things like dishware, tools, trinkets, Christmas baubles, and so forth. Bronze also comes up occasionally.

Reds, yellows, blues, and greens are pretty common throughout the films, even outside of Hogwarts, though you'll see just about every color somewhere. For example, orange is often found around the Weasleys, and orange, maroon, and purple feature in the divination classroom. Teal features prominently in Grimmauld Place (contrasted with saffron yellows).

Most colors aren't really super bright; a lot of the time they look a little faded, or like they're colored with natural dyes. If you use medieval illustrations to source your colors, or aim for earth tones and jewel tones, you'll be about right for a lot of what you see in the films. Bright colors are pretty rare; some of the brights we do see are in Honeydukes, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, and certain magical effects, such as Floo fire.

A lot of light is provided by candles, torches, or fireplaces, which cast a warm yellow/orange light. Moonlight is represented by blue light in the first and second films. Blue light is also used for the Goblet of Fire and the penseive.

Another thing you gotta have in there is clutter. It should look kinda antique and give off a kind of magical or mystical atmosphere. Think books, storage jars, orreries, crystal balls, old lamps, antique clocks, vintage glassware, antique mirrors, old teapots, and little metal trinkets. (If you're trying to decorate a physical room, your stuff doesn't have to actually be antique, of course; antique-styled is fine.)

Texture is also very important, which can be represented with full or top grain leather book covers, stone walls, dents and scratches, cracks, embellishments, and embossing. Additionally, all damage and wear gives a sense of oldness to things. Stains and variegated colors also add interest. (If you're decorating a physical space, you might look into aging/distressing/antiquing techniques.)

If you want a space to look cozy, you don't really want bare or blank walls. Shelves, paintings, tapestries, and wallpaper can all help with that. Again, use brown, rather than black. Warm, yellow lighting will also help. If you lean toward blacks and cool lighting, you're going to have a colder-looking space.

Fashion in the wizarding world is extremely all over the place, ranging from stereotypical fantasy witch and wizard clothing, to pretty normal vintage clothing, to some wacky vintage-inspired looks, to the kind of fashion that would be put under the cozycore umbrella, to ordinary modern clothing. One thing that's absent is subculture fashion as we know it. (Bellatrix Lestrange does look kinda goth, but it's less a subculture thing, and more a "yeah we're putting our bad guys in fancy black stuff" thing.)

If you're trying to lean into the whole quirky/eccentric/old-fashioned kinda thing, you'll want to pass over the more modern and obviously synthetic type stuff. Also, patterns, textured fabrics, knits, mixed colors, lace, and other embellishments can add interest to outfits.

Architecture is also all over the place. Hogwarts is pretty medieval, while places like Diagon Alley give more Victorian vibe. The main thing is looking old fashioned and quaint.

To try and summarize all of that:

Browns. Lots and lots and lots of browns. Blacks and grays, too. Contrast between light and dark browns and blacks/grays.

More beige and gray than pure white; more charcoal gray and dark walnut brown than true black.

Among other colors, mostly earth tones and jewel tones. Very limited brights.

Polished metal and glass also add shininess.

Old-fashioned. Vintage. Antique.

Clutter, texture, patterns, variegation. Minimalist/clean aesthetic avoided.

Aged and distressed.

Lighting often yellow/orange due to coming from fire. Blue/teal light often coming from moonlight and certain magical light sources.

Now, here are some things we actually don't see. I'm not mentioning them to discourage you from using them if they're what you really want, but to inform you about them so you can consider whether they might throw off the vibe for you:

Green/purple/black combos.

Purple/silver/black combos. Pink/purple/teal combos.

Pink/black combos.

Orange/black combos.

Green/orange/purple combos.

Red/black combos.

Basically a lot of combos commonly associated with Halloween, witches, or vampires.

Big raw crystals. We see crystal balls now and then, but that's it.

Other natural items used as decorations - feathers, pinecones, sticks, etc. The one exception I can think of are the shells embedded in the walls of Shell Cottage.

Crushed velvet. Lots of fantasy uses this, HP films don't.

If you need inspiration, go look up medieval and renaissance diagrams and illustrations of stuff like the four elements, the zodiac, the solar system, and all that. Go look up alchemical symbols and emblems. Search up pre-WWII vintage ephemera. Go look up Victorian clipart. Look up stuff like botanical, zoological, and astronomical books and art from the 17th-19th centuries. Look up vintage wallpaper and fabric patterns. Look at vintage-style crafts. Research period architecture and fashion. Research European heraldry.

If you're wondering what exactly you're going to design around without Hogwarts and the Four Houses, here are some suggestions:

The four classical elements (earth, air, fire, and water)

The four seasons

Card suits - Tarot, French, whatever you want

Holidays - Halloween, Christmas, whatever

Fairy tales

Flowers

Mythical creatures

Bugs

Birds

Any other animals you like

Ecosystems

Your own original worldbuilding

So yeah, there ya go. You don't need to keep participating in HP to indulge in the aesthetic.

[NOTICE: Anybody who clowns on this post by making this about them and their childhood, patting themselves on the back about their chosen means of "ethical" participation, praising the fandom, or adding any other form of irrelevant bullshit is getting blocked. Also, I don't want to hear about PJO or Earthsea again for the millionth time, either.]

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 6113

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, kidnapping, cannibalism, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, ignoring of sexual boundaries, dub-con bordering on non-con, (mostly humorous) gore, (mostly humorous) body horror

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen" ... or something like that

11. Marinate

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter. Story Masterlist

Steve:

Steve wakes up to a racket. “Mmph.” He sits up from his mattress, the thin blanket draped over his knees, two knobbly points where he rests his elbows as he rubs the crust from his eyes. As he wakes fully, he begins to make more sense of what’s making the racket.

“Help Meee! Somebodee!!! Heeelp! Please!!”

He groans and plops his face into the cradle of his criss-crossed arms. Right. Last night was Date Night.

“Hello?!!! Can anybody hear me?!!!

Bucky had walked by carrying her. Steve’d barely gotten a glimpse of a limp neck and a mass of dangling brown hair before they were out of sight and he heard the low, rolling drag of one of the other cell’s door being opened, then closed. Bucky had come over with their nightly Old Fashioneds to drink together, still wearing his nice date clothes. It’d been hard for Steve to reconcile his base attraction to the man, while also knowing the reason why he was dressed up like that in the first place.

Bucky had been glad to see him. He’d kissed him, and Steve had smelled ladies’ perfume on his shirt. Bucky slid down the wall and talked about how he was so pooped, how he was so glad that now he could just take it easy and spend more time at the house with Steve. He talked as if he’d just gotten through a regular day’s work instead of a diabolical kidnapping scheme. “Ugh,” he’d groaned, running a hand through his hair as he picked the cherry out of his glass. “Now I can relax.”

Erica Buccanetti was in the basement.

Currently, the woman down the hall—Erica—keeps yelling and yelling and yelling, and eventually Steve can’t take it anymore. “Hey!” he calls out. Shut up, he wants to say, but doesn’t. Because it’d be mean.

The screaming stops for the briefest second, and then the woman screams even louder and more desperately, tears clogging her voice. “Hello?! Ohmygod! Please, please you have to help me!! This guy! He—he chained me to the floor!! He kidnapped me!”

Steve looks down at his own wrist. “Yup,” he mutters. But he hasn’t yelled it so she doesn’t hear him. She just keeps screaming and crying for Steve to help her.

Bucky had warned him that it would probably go this way.

“I don’t even tell them what they’re here for until the first wave of screaming stops. It’s best to just let ‘em cry it out for those first couple of hours. Once we have The Talk, they usually freak out again for anywhere between an hour and a day, then it’s just how fast they move through the five stages of grief.”

Steve’s go no clue what the five stages of grief are, but figures freaking-the-fuck-out might be one of them. Over in her cell, Erica screams and pleads so much that Steve can’t even get a word in edgewise to tell her that he’s being held prisoner, too. “Please I’ll do anything!” she yells, voice echoey. Anything!! Please! You have to help me!!

It sounds like she’s several cells down from the one Steve’s in. The basement walls are all concrete and stone and sound tends to carry out in the spiraled hallway. Especially since the doors to their cells aren’t solid. “I can’t help you!” Steve calls out. “We’re in the same boat!” Really, they’re not, but he doesn’t need to tell her that now. She’d never stop screaming if he did. Bucky’s the freak who kidnapped her, why should Steve be the one who has to break the bad news that he also plans on eating her?

“What??! How long have you been here?!”

Steve sighs and lies back down on his mattress. “I dunno! Less than a month!” He’s lying. He knows exactly how long it's been. He only knows because of Bucky’s visits, because of his meals and when they come. If it weren’t for those, Steve wouldn’t have a clue what time of day it even was. He’s got a little tally going on the side of the toilet-sink, classic prisoner style. He puts a scratch in the metal with the links of his chain, one for each breakfast Bucky serves him. But yesterday he’d almost forgotten to do the tally. He’d forgotten until it was bedtime, and for some reason that really bothered him. He’d scratched that day’s tally in with extra vigor.

Now, he reaches over to grab his most recent book. He finds the page he left off on.

“You know James?!” Erica yells. “Did he—did he take you too?! Why?! What’s he want with us?!!”

It hurts Steve, to hear her use the name James, to be reminded that Steve himself was duped just the same as everybody else. He’d called Bucky James, up until a few weeks ago. Steve shouts, “Yep!” not wanting her to know that he goes by Bucky, for some reason. Steve flips a page in his book, wonders if Bucky eventually tells all his prisoners his nickname. He hopes not. Why does he hope that?

“What does he want?! Oh, god, is he … is he gonna rape me?!”

Steve groans and lets his forehead thunk down to the page. “No!” he tells her. He can hear her moving around over in her room, grunting with effort, the chain rattling as she tries to free herself. She starts sobbing after a while, screams some more, then goes back to the sobbing. She doesn’t try to communicate with Steve any further, and Steve is actually kind of glad.

She’s been quiet for a few hours, and Steve is pretty sure she’s fallen asleep. He’s made his way through most of Anna Karenina by the time Bucky appears.

“Morning,” he says, friendly, setting down the breakfast tray that he’s brought Steve. It’s blueberry pancakes today and Steve’s stomach actually grumbles as he takes the tray. He spreads the butter and pours the syrup, cuts into the fluffy pancakes. Bucky makes the best fucking pancakes Steve’s ever had. “How was it?” Bucky asks, tipping his head towards the cell door. “With her here?”

Steve glares at him. “Awful. Screaming and crying. Woke me up.”

Bucky makes an apologetic face. “It’ll get better. It’s about ten a.m. now. I’ll go in and have The Talk with her once she wakes back up.”

“Ugh.” Steve figures there’s going to be a lot more screaming in his future. “Why’d you design the rooms this way?” he asks, genuinely curious. “Why’d you make it so that we can—” he cuts himself off as he realizes that he’s including himself in Bucky’s victim pool. He swallows thickly, and rephrases, “Why’d you make it so that they can talk to each other?”

Bucky shrugs. “Having each other to talk to calms them down, gives ‘em something to do. Plus, I think it makes the rooms feel nicer and less threatening, to have the sliding doors. Less claustrophobic.”

Steve’s eyes drag over to the wooden slats of the cell door. Leave it to Bucky to design an aesthetically pleasing dungeon. “Have you ever had somebody escape?”

“No.” Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Why? You making plans?”

Steve snorts and spears another bite of pancake onto his fork. “Come on Buck. No.” Steve’s a realist. He knows that if he escapes (when he scolds himself, when he escapes), it’ll have to be from upstairs. “I just wondered.”

Bucky watches him carefully for a long minute, like he’s sizing him up. “One girl,” he says quietly, coming down to sit next to Steve. He steals a bite of pancake, eating it thoughtfully. “One girl almost got out, once. She was one of those mutants, like you hear about on the news, you know? Only I didn’t know it.” He licks the syrup from his fingertips. “I mean it’s not like they’re common, especially now the government’s got that serum to fix ‘em. What are the chances, right?”

Steve’s eyebrows raise. “What, like she could walk through walls or something?”

“She definitely would’ve escaped if that were it.” Bucky scoffs. “Naw. Turns out she could freeze things. The roofies kept her from it at first I guess, but then they wore off and she got to work. First she burst the pipes, tried to flood herself out. I turned the water off, confused as fuck how it’d happened, cause it was the middle of summer. I left her in here while I tried to get a plumber in, tried to fix things. Meanwhile, she was down here freezing the bedroom door.” He points at said door. “Froze the wood brittle and busted through like it was made’a toothpicks.”

Steve’s gaze slides over to the slatted panels of the door. It’s like a chic, mid-century modern version of a prison cell’s barred doors. Steve’s chain doesn’t extend far enough to let him go over there and test it, but from the looks and sounds of things it’s solid hardwood, with an electronic locking mechanism anchored deep inside the concrete wall. Unless he’s got a superpower he’s yet to discover, there’s no way he’d be able to break the thing open.

The fact that the door is so transparent, slatted instead of solid, is almost like a taunt in his opinion. Freedom: so close yet so far away.

“But I got her under control before she could cause any real damage. Knocked her out, got a hold of the serum to fix her. Now I keep an emergency kit of the stuff in the OR.” Bucky sighs like it’s a disappointing memory. “Had to punish her of course.”

Steve blinks, disturbed by the thought of what it would be like to almost escape such a horrible fate, only to get dragged back again. He swallows thickly. “What’d you do? Cut off her legs?”

“Hands,” Bucky says. He holds up his own, wriggling his fingers in the air. “That’s how she did the freezing thing. With her hands. It was just a freak chance that she turned out to be like that. I’ve never had any other trouble with product.”

Steve glares at him for using that term again. “And what did she do, to deserve to get eaten?”

“You know I actually don’t remember.” Bucky says thoughtfully. “Something heinous, I’m sure. Usually involving kids.” He must see the distaste on Steve’s face because he leans closer to him, scowling. “Hey. I don’t ever take innocents.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that.”

“It’s true. I’d have to look at my records to know what her story was. They all start blending together after a while.”

“You keep records?” Steve scowls, suddenly not very hungry for his pancakes anymore. He pushes the tray back in Bucky’s general direction. “Done.”

Bucky frowns at his obvious discontent. “You sure do have a lot of questions all of a sudden,” he says. “You want to know about how my business runs?”

“Maybe.” Steve holds his nose up in the air, stubborn. “Maybe I’m curious.”

“Curious,” Bucky echoes, watching him closely. He’s suspicious, but there’s something underneath of that suspicion, something interested about Steve being interested. Steve has intrigued him.

“Hello?! Are you still there?! Hello!!! Guy?! Mister?! Are you still there?!”

Both Bucky and Steve sigh at the renewed yelling. Erica’s awake again. Steve watches as Bucky hefts himself to his feet and heads to the door, looking for all the world like he’s simply off to do a business presentation that he’s been dreading. “Wish me luck,” he says, sliding the door open and closed again.

Steve stares at where he left, feeling apathetic and really mixed up about it. “Good luck,” he mutters.

Bucky:

For some reason, Bucky just doesn’t get as much enjoyment out of it as usual. He doesn’t even fix himself a drink to watch her come to. By the time he’s downstairs the next morning, Steve’s already interacted with her. Of course Bucky knew that might happen. But he figures shielding Steve from the realities of his business won’t do either of them any favors. It is what it is.

Erica does the whole shiver-gasp-hyperventilate-scream-cry-scream-cry thing, which Bucky waits out with an admirable amount of patience. “Erica, Honey,” he says when he thinks he’s finally got a chance. “Are you ready to listen to me? I’d like to talk to you but you’re making it very hard.” She sniffles and refuses to look at him, curled up in the corner by her mattress.

What is it about women and corners? Bucky thinks. He can get to them just as easily there as anywhere else. You’d think they’d figure that out. With no response forthcoming from Erica, he takes a deep breath and tells her, “So like I said, it's what I do for work. People pay me a lot of money for it. And I understand it’s a lot to come to terms with. You’ll be thinking about escaping, and killing me, all that. But besides all that, I don’t want you to worry. You’re going to be fed well here—no meat, so we don’t even have to get into that. I give my girls pain meds whenever they need them, so you should never be in anything more than minimal discomfort.”

She peeks out from the messy splay of her brown hair at that, her eyes all puffy and red-rimmed. “... Minimal discomfort,” she breathes. “Are you fucking serious?”

Bucky hums, displeased. “It’s better than the alternative, Sweetheart.” He claps his hands and gets to his feet. “And hey, think about it: you’re religious, right? Catholic?”

Her eyes widen, shocked that he knows this. It’s cute, Bucky thinks, how none of them ever suspect the stalking. “How do you know that?” she whispers.

He shakes his head at her and he heads for the door. “I just brought it up because I was gonna suggest that, if you believe in God and heaven and hell and all that, you might try to look at your time here as a sort of penance. For what you did to your brother.” At the door he looks back at her and sees her shocked eyes and parted lips. “Yeah,” he simpers. “Just think: God might even let you into heaven once I’m through with you. You just have to be sorry enough.”

He walks out and slides the door shut. She doesn’t start crying and screaming again until he’s halfway to the stairs.

Steve:

After a week of Erica, Steve is running out of patience. According to Bucky—who fancies himself an amateur psychologist—she’s in the ‘Bargaining Stage’, whatever the hell that means. For Steve it means talking constantly and needling him for answers.

“Steve! Are you awake?!

“Steve! We have to think of a plan!!”

“Has he eaten you yet?!”

“Is James gay or straight?! We could try and seduce him! Bite his dick off!”

“Where are you from?! What do you do?! What’s your family like? Do you think they’re looking for us yet?!”

Steve barely glances at the lunch tray Bucky brings him that day. “Please,” he begs, tossing aside his copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance without saving his spot. “Please let me come upstairs for a little bit.” He’s not even thinking of escaping, is the sad thing. He just needs a break.

“She a talker?” Bucky asks wryly.

“She only stops when you come down,” Steve grits, feeling bad for feeling this way towards his fellow captive. But he can’t help it. She’s relentless, seems to think that if they really put their minds to it, the two of them can find a way to bust out of there. Steve tells her the story that Bucky told him of the mutant woman, tells her how Bucky wooed him and brought him there. For a day or two, he really does try. He talks.

But he doesn’t tell her about how Bucky isn’t planning on eating him. He doesn’t tell her how he’s apparently not on the menu like she is, how he's not going to die, how Bucky is convinced that he and Steve are going to be together. He tells himself he does this out of compassion for Erica, so that she can feel solidarity with him and not lose hope or whatever. But really, he just doesn’t want her to know about his special memories, the private things he knows about Bucky, the things Steve has with him that she never will. He wants to keep that to himself. He’s not sure why exactly, but he does.

He doesn’t tell her that Bucky goes by ‘Bucky’ and not James.

He also doesn’t want to lump himself in with her. Because as bad as Steve feels for her situation, Bucky still told him about what she did to her brother. And it really does help Steve from feeling too much sympathy for her. It’s funny, but he always kind of assumed it was all men who did those awful things. But Bucky shows him the paperwork. He shows him the proof. So when Erica whines and laughs and cries, high as a kite on her pain meds, upset about the fact that Bucky chopped her leg off, Steve doesn’t feel as bad or as horrified as he knows he should. He just keeps telling her to try to go to sleep. The more she sleeps, the less he has to deal with her.

By now she’s been tapered down a bit on the meds, so she’s back to being her usual chatty self. She thinks the two of them are bosom buddies. Come to find out, she’s a really vapid and annoying sort of person. She tells him about her dead-end job that she could give a rat's ass about, and Steve thinks that it just fucking figures she'd be a DMV employee, of all things.

“I need a break,” he repeats to Bucky with pleading eyes. “Please.” 

I want to spend time with someone I actually like. 

He has thoughts like that all the time, but of course he never says them. He doesn’t like Bucky, he just … gets along with him really well. Or at least he used to, before all this happened.

“Well …” Bucky hedges, looking like he’s really considering it.

Steve’s heart leaps. “I’ll be good,” he promises, talking quietly even though it’s really not necessary. He knows Erica can’t make out their words right now, just like Steve can’t hear Bucky talking to her at a normal decibel over in her cell. But the sound of the electronic locks at the top of the basement stairs is always clear as a bell, and both Steve and Erica know what it means when they hear that familiar ‘beep’, those familiar footsteps coming down. Steve is sure it strikes far more terror into her than it does him. Especially since the surgery happened.

Bucky took her leg. Steve asks him about it when he’s guided upstairs and into the bathroom. He’s being allowed to come up for a shower, but then it’s back downstairs. He’s disappointed at the limitation, but doesn’t complain. Baby steps. “So, did you eat her?” he asks, trying to use the conversation to distract himself from the way that Bucky watches him undress. There’s nothing Steve can do about it. He needs to shower at some point. He stinks.

“No,” Bucky tells him. “She’s just for Carlo, remember?”

“Mm.” Steve gets the water running and glances nervously back at Bucky. “I don’t want you to come in with me,” he says, trying to firm up his voice into something that Bucky will respect. “I just want to get clean, please.”

Bucky inclines his head as if to say, 'Go right ahead'.

Steve steps into the shower, and oh, it feels like heaven after not washing for so long. He checks once more to make sure that Bucky isn’t coming in after him, then closes his eyes and leans into the spray. Bucky’s voice sounds from the other side of the glass door. “There’s a safety razor in there. You can use it. But if you try to slit your wrists or something stupid like that, all you’re gonna achieve is a shit ton of discomfort.”

Steve looks around and spots the razor. He picks it up, blinking at it. He knows Bucky isn’t going to leave him alone in the bathroom long enough to do anything with it. Not that Steve’s plan involves self harm. It doesn’t. It involves Bucky harm. “Thanks,” he mutters, and proceeds to try and shave his face without the aid of a mirror. He’s pretty successful, only nicking himself once or twice along his jawline.

“Thank you,” he says again, figuring that a little more mild behavior can’t hurt his game. “For letting me shower up here.”

“You’re welcome, Honey. Your new room has a shower in it.” It’s finished, Bucky’s told him. Just needs a few ‘personal touches’, whatever that means. “And there’s a solid door. You won’t have to listen to all the crying and screaming anymore.”

Steve nods, a silent laugh bubbling up in his chest at the hilariousness of how awful those words are: ‘you won’t have to listen to the crying and screaming anymore’. Jesus Christ. How awful is it that Steve is laughing at that? Or that all he can think about is how soon he’ll be able to get a full night’s sleep, read a whole chapter, take a long shit, without interruption. He loses his temporary mirth and opens his eyes with his head ducked under the spray, the water sluicing off his hair and down his nose, his lips. What is he becoming? “Why did you tell me your name was James?” he asks quietly.

“Hm?” Bucky didn’t hear, and Steve repeats himself. Bucky steps closer to the shower door, the shadow of his body visible.

“If you weren’t planning on taking me or … or selling my meat, then why not introduce yourself as Bucky?” Steve looks over and sees the blurred form of him through the steam and the dimpled shower glass, his hand up against the door, palm flat. “Why’d you have to do that?” he asks, so quietly that he’s surprised he gets an answer at all.

“Habit,” Bucky says, and he sounds regretful. “I was stalking Eileen at the time, so I was in work mode. I wasn’t expecting to meet you. It’s … it’s hard to let anyone close.” His voice has gone quiet now, too. Soft and serious. Steve feels like he’s holding his breath as Bucky tells him through the glass, “You just get used to separating yourself into these … these different pieces. And you keep ‘em that way. Nobody sees all of you.”

“... That sounds lonely.”

“It is. But you form habits. I’m sorry.”

Steve looks back down at the shower floor, at his feet, his toes. He knows how lucky he is not to have lost anything yet. He’s still not sure he even trusts that Bucky won’t take something, eventually. “I didn’t tell her,” he says. “Your name. ‘Bucky’. I didn’t want her to know it.” He shakes his head at himself, mutters, “S’stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” Bucky opens the shower door and Steve jumps in place, jerking back a little. But Bucky’s still clothed and he doesn’t try to come into the shower. He just reaches in and takes Steve’s hand and gives it a squeeze. His shirt sleeve gets soaked in the process, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s looking right at Steve. “It’s not stupid at all, honey,” he says, eyes tender. “You’re not like them. Not at all.”

“What am I like?” Steve whispers.

Bucky smiles softly. “You’re Steve. You’re my boyfriend. My lover. Hopefully, one day, my partner.” Steve gapes at him and Bucky just gives his hand another squeeze, then retreats. The shower door separates them once again, and Steve is left to stand there, shaking under the water for a while as he has an existential crisis. He thinks about possible ways to murder Bucky for at least ten minutes straight. Unfortunately, pummeling him to death with the body wash doesn’t pass muster. The little cheap safety razor not much better. Bucky will notice if he tries to sneak it.

“You turned into a prune in there yet?” Bucky teases.

Steve shakes himself out of it and proceeds to wash his hair.

Bucky:

He plans out the perfect day for them, and by the time he’s given Erica her breakfast and is able to bring Steve up from the basement, he’s very excited. It’s just over seventy degrees outside that day and the sun is shining. It streams in through the kitchen’s skylights while the coffee machine percolates away. Bucky is in a fantastic mood.

He gives Steve a big good morning kiss, thumbing over his smooth-shaven jaw. The little cuts from yesterday are all gone, and he resolves to have a safety mirror installed in Steve's new bathroom downstairs. "Sleep any better?" he asks. Steve mumbles something vaguely affirmative and Bucky beams, because in only a few days he's planning on surprising Steve with his new room. “So, I’ve got the perfect day planned for us,” he proclaims as he holds the barstool out for Steve. Steve climbs up and Bucky secures his left cuff to the link that’s embedded in the quartz countertop. He’s installed them in all sorts of handy locations upstairs, since Steve’s been there.

Because baby steps.

He pushes Steve’s stool back in and goes over to start whipping up their breakfast. “French omelets,” he proclaims proudly. “Toast, bacon, other-bacon, and fresh squeezed orange juice.” Steve, of course, sneers at the ‘other-bacon’. Bucky ignores it. “What do you like in your omelets?” he asks him cheerfully.

“Onions, cheese, mushrooms, spinach,” Steve lists off, carefully eyeing all the things that Bucky pulls from the fridge. “I’d say ham if you had it, but …”

“I’ve got it.” Bucky produces a ham steak, still in its grocery store packaging, and that seems to satisfy Steve. He starts chopping up different things, humming as he goes along.

“Why’re you so chipper?” Steve asks, reaching for his glass of juice.

“You have to ask?” Bucky grins across the counter at him, but the grin fades a little as he takes in Steve’s expression. Bucky puts down his knife and rounds the island, coming up beside Steve and cupping his jaw. “Hey,” he says tenderly. “I’m happy, because I’ve got my fella up here with me. I get to spend the day with you.” He kisses him lightly. “You have any idea how much I’ve missed that?” Steve shivers under his hands, but at least he doesn’t pull away. Bucky hums knowingly and pecks another kiss to his mouth before going back to the cutting board. “So since you said you were curious, I thought I’d show you around the property today.” He peeks up at Steve, sees him sitting there observantly. “Show you how things run. If you want.”

Bucky knows it’s risky, that it might provoke a negative reaction from Steve. Maybe even cause a setback of sorts. But in the long run he thinks it’s a good move. The more open and honest he can be with Steve, the more Steve can come to terms with everything. Because after all, that’s the dream, isn’t it? Full, true intimacy. No games or projections, no thin, exhausting veneer of who he knows he’s supposed to be for that specific person. Just him and someone who knows all of him, and accepts him, and stays.

Bucky grabs a handful of mushrooms and gives them a quick chop. He starts cracking eggs. “You can ask me questions, you know,” he says coaxingly, checking on Steve’s expression. “If you want. I’ll answer honestly.”

Steve frowns thoughtfully. “Mmm, I dunno.” He sits there for another few moments, and Bucky starts to think that he won’t take him up on the offer, but then, “Was the China story true? About the village?”

Bucky pauses. Steve looks genuinely curious, so he tells him, “Yeah. Yeah it was. Only, I knew what I was being served. I’d picked up the barest bit of Mandarin while I was there, and I heard them whispering.”

“And you ate it anyway?”

He nods, watching Steve carefully. “And I ate it anyway.” Steve looks back down. He doesn’t look happy with that answer, but he doesn’t look hateful or disgusted either, which makes Bucky’s heart lift hopefully.

“When did you start doing it. On your own?”

He takes a deep breath, wary of upsetting Steve but knowing that this is something they have to get past. “I was in med school, still.”

“Cadavers?”

He laughs. “You have thought this out.” When Steve just shrugs and sips his orange juice, Bucky clarifies, “Cadavers are embalmed. You can’t eat them. But, sometimes we’d get a severed limb in the ER. You know, something that couldn’t be reattached.” He tips his head permissively as he swirls the eggs to a fine scramble. “... and, sometimes I was the one in charge of disposing of the pieces.”

“Ew.”

He smirks and flicks the burner on. Steve’s ‘Ews’ don’t have as much vitriol to them as they used to. It gives Bucky hope. “Yeah. So I had a few more opportunities to try it. And of course I researched it. Found out it wasn’t harmful.”

“Except for the brains,” Steve supplies dully, and Bucky points the spatula at him with a grin.

“Hey! You’re learning!” He pours the eggs into the pan and they sizzle and pop against the heated Teflon. He sprinkles in the ingredients for Steve’s omelet, stuffs a pinch of shredded cheese in his mouth, and chews. “Yeah, so, I knew this guy in tech, right? And he had access to some stuff. Dark web stuff. That’s where I found an entire community of people who do this. Come to find out, it’s been a thing since like, forever, and then ... I don’t know,” he shrugs emphatically and flips the edge of the omelet inwards. “There’s like this whole subculture that’s formed around it. People started showing interest in me when they found out I was a surgeon. I made friends, figured out that I could get rich off it—hell of a lot richer than doing butt lifts and boob jobs—and I just … started slow. Treated as a hobby, before I went professional with it.” Steve snorts, but it’s not mean, and it makes Bucky grin in turn. He finishes up Steve’s omelet and slides it out of the pan, points to one of the two plates of cooling bacon that are resting on paper towels. “That’s the vegetarian pile, if you couldn’t tell.”

They look almost identical. But Bucky has only ever lied to Steve once, and this isn’t it. Steve only hesitates with his fingers over the bacon for a second, then he’s taking two strips for himself. Bucky bites his lip and wonders if Steve would even try a bite of the other bacon …

“What’s ‘slow’?” Steve asks, crunching through his slice of bacon.

Bucky watches it covetously. Seeing Steve put that much trust in him is such a huge thrill. “What?” he asks distractedly.

“You said you started ‘slow’.”

“Oh.” He tears his eyes away from Steve’s grease-smeared lips. “Um, well I didn’t have this place.” He gestures around the kitchen. “Just my condo in the city back then, so I had to go one at a time. And it was wasteful, because I had to harvest the whole body all at once. Nobody pays the same rates for frozen meat. They want fresh.” He frowns at the memory, pouring more eggs into the pan. “Back then I’d rent a place, a cabin or something. Come upstate for a long weekend. I'd do the work, clean up, freeze whatever wasn’t bought right off the bat. Just had to learn my way around it, find a process that worked for me.” He peeks up at Steve to check on him, but the guy is very studiously consuming his omelet. “I was doing three, maybe four girls a year? Eh, I dunno. Something like that.”

Steve shakes his head. “‘Doing’. Christ.”

“You know what I mean.” Bucky plates his own food and pulls out the stool next to Steve’s. “The dark web has a lot more than cannibals on it, Honey. You can find a lot of good targets. Pedos and stuff.” Steve finally looks up at him and Bucky gives him a nod, satisfied. “Yeah, exactly. For a while I really tried to push the man-meat on clients, just because they were so much easier to track down, and there were so many of them, with their kiddie porn and shit. But the clients wanted women.”

“Gotta please the customer,” Steve mumbles. “So you were a mobile serial killer, and now you’re a stationary one.”

“Don’t call me that,” Bucky says, a little sharper than he intends to. That gets him another solid moment of eye contact with Steve. “I’m not a serial killer. They kill for psychological reasons. They need the thrill. I don’t. I’m just running a business.”

“Sure.”

“You know I wouldn’t even kill them if it was possible. I’d take a leg and set them loose, if I could.” Bucky grabs a piece of ‘other-bacon’ and crunches down on it. “I’m a butcher, but I do it humanely. You should see the fucks these people were buying from before. Before I came on the scene.”

Steve looks at him with wide eyes, says, “Wha?” around a mouthful of egg. Bucky hums darkly.

“Yeah. I chatted with a few online. And I’ve met one in person. Gotta research the competition when you’re setting up a business plan, after all.” He sneers as he remembers the losers he’d found. “They were serial killers. Rapists, sadists. Did all kinds of horrible shit to their victims. Then if there was anything salvageable, that’s what they hocked.” Bucky sees the horror and disgust in Steve’s eyes again and he nods. “It was easy to drive them out of business. All that fear and stress? It's not good for the meat. My product tastes better."

"Product," Steve repeats dully.

"Right. So who would pay for scraps when they could get a gourmet meal with all the fixings instead?”

“Oh,” Steve says, and he pokes at his omelet instead of eating it. “Yeah.”

Bucky swipes another piece of other-bacon. “It wasn’t just not having the house. I also worked full time at a private practice. But I gave that up after the first five years. Had the house built, moved to full time. Now I can handle more like twelve, fifteen girls a year if I rotate consistently. Last year I was a workaholic and did over twenty. I made bank, but it was nuts. I’m never doing that again.”

Steve goes still next to him and Bucky senses the tension. He looks over. “What?”

Steve scoffs a little and shakes his head. “Nothing, I’m just stupid is all. I actually thought you had a job. The practice you talked about. I still thought it was real.” He stabs another bite of his omelet up and shoves it in his mouth. “You don’t practice medicine.”

For some reason, that wounds Bucky’s pride. He looks back down at his plate, hurt. “Yeah, not really,” he murmurs. Just what he does with the girls, but he supposes that doesn’t really count. He does miss it sometimes. Just the social aspects of it mostly. It’s very isolating, what he does alone. He sighs and eats his food.

After Breakfast, he gives Steve time to get dressed for a walk. He smiles when Steve emerges from his room in a new outfit. “That’s one you haven’t worn yet.”

Steve shrugs. “I was saving it.”

Bucky bites his tongue to keep from saying anything, privately tickled that Steve was saving a date outfit. Mostly, Steve’s been wearing the men’s extra small sweatpants and generic tee shirts that Bucky supplies him with, but today he’s chosen to wear something of his own. It’s just an Aerosmith tee shirt with a jean button up thrown over it, but Steve looks good no matter what he wears. At least in Bucky’s opinion. “Here.” he hands over Steve’s boots. They lace up, so Bucky hasn’t allowed him to keep them in his room. “You need a belt?”

“I’m good," Steve murmurs.

Bucky grins and claps his hands together. “Okay then. On with the tour!”

They walk the edge of the property. It’s the trail that Bucky jogs most mornings, and he tells Steve that. “This is big,” is what Steve has to say. “You have a lot of land.”

Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls him in for a hug. “Hey,” he says softly, speaking into Steve’s hair. “I know you’re thinking about ways to run away right now.”

Steve tenses in his arms, but he doesn’t deny it. Bucky kisses the top of his head. “It’ll get better,” he promises. “It will. Just gotta give it time.”

Steve avoids looking at him after that. They finish their loop of the property at the barn. Bucky decides not to take Steve inside, but he explains what he does there. Steve seems to take it pretty well, in Bucky's opinion.

“So once they’re dead, you chop ‘em up in there.”

Bucky inhales deeply through his nose and lets it out in a controlled sigh. “‘Chop’ isn’t the word I would use. I’m a trained surgeon, Honey. I treat their bodies with respect.”

“I think they’d disagree.”

“I harvest almost everything in the OR. Then, yes, the torso or other large remaining cuts get sectioned in here.”

Steve doesn’t seem to like hearing the word ‘Torso’, Bucky notices, and he makes a mental note not to use it around him. “There’s a dumbwaiter here too,” he tells him. “It leads to a separate freezer, which connects to the basement via another hallway.” Bucky can see the cogs turning in Steve’s head as he takes this information in. Steve is planning out every possible escape route he might be able to utilize, in the near future.

Bucky isn’t worried. Steve will come around. He just has to get them through that ‘near future’ without incident.

With the tour concluded, they return to the house and he locks Steve’s wrist at a spot by the couch. There’s a cord so that he’s got enough slack to move around the general area. Bucky gives him the remote control and Steve holds it in his hands like it’s a treasured object. “I can …” he seems to falter, which is adorable to Bucky. “I can watch whatever I want?” he asks meekly.

Bucky smiles. “Yeah, Honey. Go ahead. I’ll be working in the kitchen.”

Steve:

By the time it’s late morning, Steve’s already mentally exhausted.

Bucky’s ‘tour’ hadn’t been graphic or anything. Hell, mostly they’d just walked around the grassy path that runs along the tree line of the surrounding forest. But Bucky had detailed his harvesting process, his mail order service, his history with the whole, morbid affair.

And then there’d been the butchery barn.

That’s what Steve’s calling it in his head, since Bucky’s so god awful insistent that he’s a butcher and not a serial killer. "Bucky the Butcher." It even sounds like the perfect name for a prolific serial killer. Steve would laugh at him about it, but he’s pretty sure that would make Bucky get mad and stick him back in his cell, so he doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even argue. He just nods along to the information Bucky gives him, memorizing the parts that might one day help him out of this hellhole.

It’s kind of hard to remember it’s a hellhole, though, when he’s being treated so nicely. Especially when it’s by the man who was his lover before, the man whom Steve had trusted and liked (a lot. What does that say about him?), the man with whom he’d formed an emotional bond so quickly. Steve hates it, but it’s still there, coloring their every interaction.

The basement isn’t so bad, he thinks. At least when he’s down there, he remembers what he is: a prisoner. Not a boyfriend and certainly not the ‘partner’ that Bucky had described wanting. Steve knows though, he knows his best chance at survival lies in convincing Bucky that he can be the absolute best ‘partner’ ever. Steve thinks he can pretend well enough, maybe even for long enough.

He’s just worried about how much of himself he’s going to lose along the way.

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[rottenwhimsy]

villanelle and autism

side notes before i begin:

some of these traits could also be explained by cluster b disorders, as she’s heavily bpd coded and canonically aspd, but i see her as both cluster b AND autistic.

also, please don’t say things like “YES she’s not a psychopath, she’s autistic instead” because she’s still very much aspd and i don’t want to take that away. i’ve seen a lot of people with aspd really identify with villanelle and say she portrays it well.

just scroll if you don’t agree, this is a harmless headcanon and i’m simply explaining why i have this headcanon, as well as why a lot of autistic people seem to relate to her (people get SO mad if you even insinuate a popular character might be autistic lol)

masking/mirroring

masking is a strategy used to hide neurodivergent traits in order to blend in with neurotypicals. this can include mirroring (mimicking others expressions/behaviors), or even entire persona changes.

in the very first scene villanelle carefully observes a man smiling then mimics his smile (1x01)

villanelle hears a woman laugh on the radio then mimics her laugh, later she reuses that same laugh with sebastian (1x02)

liked copying the statue people in the street (2x05)

often mimics konstantin and predicts what he’s going to say

can quickly switch personas, adopts different accents and dialects quickly, and reuses phrases that are said to her

taking things literally

when talking about villanelle anna says “she was quite literal” and goes on to describe how villanelle misinterpreted a joke so confidently that she killed someone because of it (1x07)

interprets the bible extremely literally in season 4

“i have children” “i don’t want your children” (1x05)

“sheep are happier than wolves” “you spend your time off surveying sheep?” (3x08)

took konstantin saying “do something normal” literally (1x02)

“you are not a pumpkin, you a beautiful” (1x04)

kills gabriel because she thought he was genuinely asking to die when he was expressing how sad he was about his situation (2x01)

sensory seeking (& sensitivities)

touches and focuses on the texture of the liliana rizzari duvet, goes out of her way to ask the man she’s killing for the name of the duvet, later purchases it for herself and carefully feels the texture of it again (1x01)

generally touches and smells everything

“i want to smell her skin” (4x03) as well as her describing her ideal perfume in detail then asking eve and konstantin to smell her (3x03)

hates wearing crocs and other “non-nice” things, is very fixated on “nice” things like high quality clothes and food

makes people stroke her hair when she’s feeling upset (2x05 and 4x01)

bold fashion with a lot of colors/patterns/textures

seems to dislike most people hugging her

more up to interpretation, but she wore headphones in 3x04 and 3x05, once while she was having a meltdown on a train

struggles with social cues

includes coming off as blunt/rude, trouble navigating groups, and not interpreting situations correctly

how awkward and blunt she was at her wedding (3x01)

interacting with the church, especially in 4x02

doesn’t know how to react to displays of emotion (gabriel crying, benita crying, was confused and froze when her brother was being affectionate)

doesn’t understand why some people are upset with her (konstantin in s2, may in s4, eve at multiple points)

doesn’t understand that certain things will make people upset (being very blunt with gabriel then being put off when he starts crying)

struggles with understanding boundaries

doesn’t see authority figures as an authority (teasing and flirting with the prison guards, threatening konstantin, casually killing anton, doesn’t seem to understand consequences)

does not follow rules that don’t make sense to her

breaks into eve’s house expecting a normal dinner, doesn’t know how to calm eve down and ends up making her panic more (1x05)

didn’t understand why eve’s coworkers were acting scared of her (3x08)

is confused as to why sebastian laughs when she says she likes national anthems (1x02)

not understanding why her mom was laughing at her and that it was mocking “you always laugh at things that aren’t funny” “like you?” “yes” (3x05)

stimming

the repetitive performance of certain physical movements or vocalizations in order to self soothe or express emotion

big jumpy happy dance (3x04)

during cup game (3x05)

jumping and spinning on the heels of her boots by the train with rhian (3x08)

her copying noises she hears could be a type of vocal stim, echolalia

on the train ride at the end of 3x05

there are more examples but i can’t list them all since she generally bounces around a lot and has a lot of big movements

inappropriate/bizarre responses

yelling “this is so BORINGGG” while in an art museum (2x04)

“i mean i masturbate about you a lot” (1x08)

yelling “JUST DUNK ME” while getting baptized (4x01)

soooo many instances that again i can’t list them all…

alexithymia

alexithymia is the difficulty feeling or identifying emotions (or physical stressors like pain)

her whole aa meeting speech in 2x06 about how she feels nothing and the distress it causes (is extremely bored, hurts herself and it doesn’t hurt, just wants to feel something)

doesn’t know if she’s telling the truth or not (2x07), this could also be because of masking as too much masking can cause identity confusion, not knowing what you’re faking and what’s authentic

weakened sense of danger, even says “i don’t get scared” (2x08)

says she’s fine then immediately collapses (2x01)

other traits

meltdowns, especially at the end of 3x05 where she was wearing headphones and had increased stimming while crying

low empathy

attaches to and fixates on a specific person, obsession prone

REJECTION SENSITIVE DYSPHORIA

has always felt estranged and inherently different from others, “i’m not normal you know” (2x01)

detail oriented, notices things others don’t

bad at dancing/rhythm

exaggerated facial expressions

exaggerated speech

poor impulse control

differences in expressing emotions and communication

only comfortable with select people

perfectionism, hates working with a team and wants to do jobs alone (1x04, 3x02)

feels threatened when irina knows more languages than her, as languages are something villanelle is very interested in (1x08)

black and white thinking

[iamnmbr3]

Hi it's me!🙋‍♀️

My roman empires these days:

■ the way Harry describes Draco's clothes in yule ball is one thing but funnier thing is when Harry thinks he looks like a vicar i love it lmao(idk is it considered as good or bad, compliment or...???)

■ in GOF Ron is the first one who notices Hermione's teeth length have changed, not Harry..guess whose details Harry notices 24*7? (skin colour, mood, height, etc)

■ Harry lied to MLE for Draco(at least talked in passive voice so it wasn't obvious who did those things) so why should Draco need a trial?! I think these two are impossible together, either MLE knows nothing about Draco's deeds and there's no trial or they know everything and there is a trial for him..idk did i miss something..

1) I don't think Harry meant it as a compliment. But also, it's notable that he's looking. What's up with that Harry? Draco also has opinions on Harry's clothes too - in one of the books he makes derogatory comments about Harry's Christmas jumper. They are both really out there like 'wow i hate that guy so much. and he has a terrible fashion sense. want to hear my detailed opinions on every outfit he's ever worn?' (Their friends must be so Tired TM).

2) Lol omg yeah good catch! Ron immediately notices when a tiny detail about Hermione, the person he has complicated and growing romantic feelings for, changes. Because he's hyper aware of her and what she looks like. Similarly, Harry catalogues every detail about Draco and immediately notices tiny differences - like his skin tone changing a bit in book 6 - before anyone else does. Hm... Wonder what could be up there...

3) Post book 7 a lot more information about Draco's crimes would be available. Draco would probably be rounded up as a known Death Eater. He's got the Dark Mark and other Death Eaters who were captured would have named him (especially given how hated his family became). From an outsider POV the fact that Voldemort was using the Manor as a base and was keeping prisoners there makes it look like Draco and his family were high up, favored members of the inner circle (and the postwar wizarding world would be unlikely to be sympathetic to "no actually he mistreated us too. we didn't even want him in our house. no really"). Draco would be seen as being complicit in the kidnappings, imprisonment, torture and murders that took place in his house. And to be fair, he was, however unhappily and unwillingly, complicit in all that. He was one of the jailers holding people prisoner there (albeit a minor one and quite possibly something of a prisoner himself in his own house, possibly even without the ability to release people even if he had wanted to). Survivors of that experience would be able to name him as responsible.

If any of the other Death Eaters who were on the Astronomy Tower survived and were captured they would also be able to name him as responsible for at least some of the events that occurred there (Harry's probably out there like 'nope. they're definitely lying. You're really going to believe the Carrows over me?' lolol /hj).

He also used Unforgivables on fellow Death Eaters on Voldemort's orders - probably there were other incidents like the Rowle incident that Harry witnessed - which some of his surviving fellows could reveal. Probably most wizards would not be receptive to the "no I swear I didn't want to do it. I was forced." argument. Except of course, Harry can actually provide evidence this is true due to his mental connection to Voldemort.

Therefore, I imagine he'd be on trial for aiding and abetting the Death Eaters, an illegal paramilitary organization, multiple counts of imprisonment and kidnapping, providing aid and material comfort and support to the wanted criminal Lord Voldemort (by being complicit in letting him use his house as a base), multiple counts of the use of Unforgivables for torture, accessory to murder (all the prisoners who were killed in his house), possibly some sort of insurrection charge (because they'd probably assume he actively fought on the side of the Death Eaters at the Battle of Hogwarts), possibly a generalized count of crimes against Muggleborns due to his involvement with the Death Eaters, AND if someone spilled the beans on the Astronomy Tower incident - one count of using the Imperius curse on Madam Rosmerta, multiple counts of attempted murder, and one count of accessory to the murder of Albus Dumbledore.

So yeah. Not looking great for him. Now there's a lot of important context around these charges. A lot of this context is information ONLY Harry can provide or verify. So Harry's testimony would be critical in proving that Draco didn't do some of these things or was coerced and in proving that he had a change of heart.

In fact, given the likely postwar climate and Draco's last name and seeming heavy involvement as a diehard Death Eater loyalist who was so favored by Voldemort that he was granted the rare honor of a Dark Mark while still in school, I take the fact that Draco isn't rotting in prison postwar (and apparently didn't do any prison time at all according to supplemental material) as incontrovertible evidence that Harry spoke for him at his trial. Which delights my drarry heart.

[bekaroth-reads]

Buggy x reader

[because I just started rewatching One Piece, and I forgot how unwell I am about this clown 😥. Reader is nonbinary technically, but feel free to add gender to taste. Not proof read, sorry if somethings are weird]

Truth be told, you weren’t expecting to take to being a part of this crew as quickly as you did. It all started when you were trying to get away from the inn that you were stuck working at. When you had started to work there, it was to earn enough money to move to a different island. Unfortunately for you, the guy that ran the place had no intention of letting you go anywhere. He managed to make it so you were in constant debt to him; or, rather, lied about you being in debt to him to make it so you had to work for little to nothing.

To make things worse, he was in with the corrupt Marine officer that ran the legal things on this island, so it wasn’t like you could report your boss. In fact, you were told flatly by both that if you tried anything to mess with the business, including trying to leave, they would hunt you down and throw you in prison. Seeing as there were no other Marine’s on this island to challenge the jerk, the threat held water, leaving you no choice but to comply.

That’s when it happened. At first, all you knew was that there was something of an upset on the island that had all of the Marine personnel on edge. That’s when the doors to the inn burst open. A group of colorful characters, both in the sense of the idiom and their fashion, came strolling in like they owned the place.

You, both not wanting to be here to find out what these people wanted and seeing the chance to escape while your boss was busy trying to tell them they weren’t welcome, slipped out the back, kitchen door amid the starting chaos. Things were going fairly well, the only set back being that a giant lion that was with the group started to stalk over to you, but it seemed that the man that owned him didn’t think you were of note and called the beast back to him. This was pretty close to the inn too, so you were certain that once you got to the docks, it should be smooth sailing (no pun intended.)

The main thing you noticed when you got to the docks was a massive ship with a clown-themed Jolly Rodger decorating the sails. Not that you every really doubted that the rough and tumble group harassing the town was pirates, but this was certainly a confirmation. While this certainly could mean plenty of bad things, it could also mean plenty of other people in dock getting ready to leave quickly. There was a high chance of hopping onto one of these boats with little resistance and before your absence was noticed at the inn, a prospect that was looming in your mind the longer that you were away.

Just as you were starting to walk away from the part of the docks where the pirate ship was, you felt someone tap you on the shoulder. You froze, fearful that you had been found; it was stupid to think that you could simply walk off when the people holding you on this island had eyes and hands everywhere. Hesitantly, you turn around to be met with…

…nothing.

It wasn’t possible for someone to have tapped your shoulder and then hide as there was no cargo of any kind near where you were standing, and the closest building was much too far away for anyone to have been able to dash behind it before you could see them, even with your stalling. So, you ended up chalking it up to your mind playing tricks on you from your paranoia.

As it turned out, there were tricks involved, but it wasn’t your mind that was playing them. The tap happened again, this time on your other shoulder, causing you to flip the other direction. This time you did see something: floating gloves. Staring at them in confusion, you were shook out of the daze when one of them waved at you, the cloth slipping up a bit to show part of a severed wrist. The sight tore a yell out of you, but as soon as it started to leave your mouth, the other hand shot forward to cover it.

“Now, is that anyway to greet a person?” A voice with a tone that you might describe as tangy giggled behind you.

There was so much that was shooting through your brain right now. Who was this? What were these floating hands? Most importantly, what did they want with you? You go the answer to all of these when the hand in the air pointed a finger down toward the ground and spun it in a circle, signaling you to turn around. You felt nauseous already, and the feeling got worse when you saw that the person that was messing with you, the owner of hands, was none other than the notorious Buggy the Clown.

You scolded yourself mentally for not putting the pieces together from at least the Jolly Rodger and the wanted posters you had seen plastered anywhere the Marines could hang them. There were rumors that Devil Fruits were a thing and that Buggy had some powers related to them. That would at least explain the whole hand thing…at least a little bit.

“I see my reputation proceeds me~” Buggy seemed more than happy about the fact that you knew who he was. “Makes sense. I am the most fearsome pirate in… well, ever!”

There was another laugh from him, this time more loud and unhinged.

You didn’t dare move as he looked you over, still keeping his hand over your mouth.

“Tch! I’ve seen some drab people, but you ain’t pullin’ any punches! Messy hair, dirty face, and the clothes to match ‘em. It’s like you’re dressin’ the way you make other people feel!”

This irked you. It wasn’t like you could help any of that; most of your time was spent doing literally everything at that damn inn, and the little money you were given had to be spent on the little bits of food you could get your hands on. Deciding that you weren’t going to take anything more, even from a feared pirate, you manage to move your head just enough to bite the tender part of his hand between his thumb and pointer finger.

With a dramatic yelp, a startled Buggy let go of you, and you made a break for it. You didn’t get far before he caught you once more; his hands, now holding a knife between each finger, shot at you at an alarming speed, one pinning the shoulder of your shirt to a nearby pole, slicing the rope wrapped around it while the other jammed itself into the wood next to your head, the knife closest to your face cutting a shallow line across your cheek as it did so.

“What did you think you were going to get from pullin’ a stunt like that, hun?” There was certainly some anger in his voice, but there seemed to be an oddly genuine feeling to his smile, you figured from him being excited to kill you. “I’m not big on showin’ mercy, ya know.” He practically growled.

“Well,” you started, took a moment to look at the blades by your stinging face, and then back at the clown, “we all have to go sometime. Why not go out with a bang by doing something like bitting the Infamous Captain Buggy?”

This seemed to tickle his fancy, because the next thing you knew Buggy had his head thrown back in a full-blown laughter that seemed to make his stomach seize with how hard it was. Once he had calmed himself, he looked back at you, the crazed look still swirled wildly in his eyes, but seemed to change to a different mad dance than the one it did before.

“So, there’s a spark there after all! Goin’ out the flashiest way you can think of? Even I can respect that!” There was still a laughter dying down in his voice as his hands reconnected. “Not to mention, I think I like the sound of you callin’ me, ‘Captain.’”

So, that’s how you ended up on this boat for the past year or so, finding it astounding how easily Buggy was able to strong-arm those creeps back at the island into letting him take you. Understandably, you started at a very low rank. At first you thought it was going to be hell. But, as things turned out, it was similar to the work you already had to do back at the inn; a big difference being that you actually had more help doing the work from other low level members of the crew.

The other big difference being when payday came around. You might not have gotten as much of a cut as the crew that actually went over and pillaged stuff, but you did get some for staying to keep an eye on the ship while the others were out. Either way, it was still way more money than you were used to; not difficult to have more than nothing. The crew that was around when you got the first of your funds were thoroughly entertained by your excited reaction to what they considered nothing.

The crew was certain that you were getting a bit more than the other newbies as Buggy called you, “his project.” It wasn’t odd for him to call you to his cabin because he had a new make-up, outfits, or staging idea, and you were the ideal Guinea pig for him to experiment on; of courswasn’t going to test things on himself, and, besides, you needed all the help you could get learning how to be a proper, certified, circus freak. It got to the point where most of the crew jokingly called you the fourth mate because of how often Buggy would have you specifically do things for him.

While maybe the crew wasn’t too buddy-buddy all the time, there were still plenty of times where everyone would admit that there was a certain type of loose friendship to be found in one’s shipmates. You did your best to keep a good rapport with the others as you knew that with rumors bouncing around about you being the captain’s favorite, jealousy was sure to rear its ugly head, even though you were certain that the rumors were nothing more than that.

This was one such time that you were all a bit more lax. It was early in the morning, and some of you were all standing on the deck, having a small conversation as you all finished eating your small breakfast and prepared to start your work for the day.

“We gotta find a theme for ya, Swabs.” One shipmate said as he fidgeted with some rope.

“Huh? What do you mean? I dress as circus-y as my work will let me.” You pointed to your somewhat circus themed work clothes.

“Yeah, sure, but it’s basic. It’s better of yer something specific.” Another chimed in.

“Specific?”

“Yeah! Like, somethin’ that’s all you. Or, ya know, something you like.” The shipmate who started the conversation explained.

“Wha- since when has this been a thing?” You asked, befuddled, “Jacobs just wears an imp hat!” You brought attention to the seeming hypocrisy in their critique.

“Well, he likes imps. That’s his thing.” The fourth crewman in your group joins in, “It’s not that hard, Swabby. Just find something to theme your stuff around, especially circus act stuff. Like, strong person, animal handler, a balancing act, or whatever.”

“Look, I can’t choose balancing act.” You respond with a grin, “everyone already has that one as part of their gig.”

“How d’ya mean?” Jacobs asks.

“Well, we all have to do the balancing act of walking on eggshells whenever Captain is around.” You joke, pulling a laugh from a few of them.

The one’s that did laugh were quickly shushed by some of the others. You were about to question why when you suddenly felt he presence of someone standing behind you.

“Seems to me that you should be a fellow clown if you’re that fond of jokes.” Buggy’s venom filled voice let you know that you had just stomped one of those proverbial eggshells to bits. You swallowed hard at the lump in your throat.

“C-C-Captain-“

“Come to my quarters. Be there in no more than five minutes.” Was all he said before he turned and walked away.

You looked back at the rest of the crew to see them looking sullen, almost sad.

“Sure gonna miss you, Swabby.” The person closest to you said with a small pat to your shoulder.

You looked to some others that were around, and the only things they did was shake their heads, some that wore hats or hoods took them off and held them reverently to their hearts (including Jacobs with his imp hood), Cabaji being the only one to be straightforward with you by whispering loudly, “You. Are going. To die!”

Not having much else you could do beside accepting your fate, you made your way toward Buggy’s cabin.

You gave a light rap on the door, and received a sing-song, “Who is it~?”

“It’s me, Captain.” You had gone through this song and dance so many times that he could tell your voice through the door.

Remembering that he was supposed to sound stern with you right now, Buggy cleared his throat and gave a barky, “So, get your ass in here!”

There was no time waisted after that, and as soon as the door was closed you looked to see where he was. It ended up being sitting on a stool in front of his mirror. Walking over to him, you were clearly seen in the reflection, your captain deciding to look at you that way instead of turning around.

“Getting a bit mouthy, aren’t we?” Buggy alluded to what he heard on the deck.

“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” You quickly apologize.

“Better not.” He scolded, before stretching his arms and yawning like the conversation wasn’t even worth his time. “I might be willing to show some mercy, if you do somethin’ for me. Can’t be bothered to put my smile on today. Too tired.” He grabbed something off the little table in front of him, turned around, and held out a small jar to you, “Make yourself useful.”

Carefully, you took it, opened the lid, and took some of the red makeup into your hand to warm and make ready. Buggy watched the circular movement of your two fingers blending the paint, somewhat critiquing, but wholly mesmerized. Once you were certain it was prepared, you went to apply it to his face.

Starting with the corners of the painted smile that ended on his cheeks, you almost hesitantly connected them, especially when your fingers would have to run over his lips. You didn’t know why, or perhaps you did and your self-preservation instincts told you to never admit anything, not even to yourself. It seemed like Buggy could see things that even you refused to about yourself.

“What? Afraid I’ll bite?” He teased, his grin was so large it moved your fingers over with it and made creases in his cheeks that stretched to the edges of his legendarily known nose. “I still owe ya for that as I’m sure you remember.” He added as he ran his fingers along the faint scar along your cheek, reminiscing how you had gotten it.

You simply swallowed again and started to fill in the outline you had made, once again starting along the outer corners and working inward, saving his lips for last. Once you had gotten to them, you coated his upper lip first before running your fingers across his bottom lip.

Buggy, a dark look in his eyes, used the close proximity to his advantage. Lips softly parting, he took your index finger between his front teeth and bit down just enough to leave dents in the skin, his tongue flicking against the pad of your finger.

It was a good thing this flustering yet weird moment didn’t last long, as the next thing you knew, Buggy coughing and dryly wrenching as he reached for whatever the closest drink was as he sputtered, “Ack! Ugh! Aw, shit! You still had paint on that finger!”

You honestly, you had no idea what to do or how to react, so you just stood there stiffly, staring at the finger that was just in your captain’s mouth. Was that flirting? Weird flirting? What?

Clearing his mouth with another drink of whatever he had gotten, loudly gargling it for good measure, Buggy then sat down the glass, and sauntered his way back over to you like none of that had just happened. “Anyway, where were we?” He asked in a playful but genuine question, actually forgetting what was just happening for a moment before his demeanor changed back to the dangerous on from before. “Oh, yes! Now I remember.”

“You were helping me with my lips. Go on now. Keep going.” He instructed.

“I, uh, I guess I should set them.” You think out loud while you look past him at the table to find setting powder.

Buggy turned your head back as soon as you looked away. “Oh, no, you don’t. Not yet.” He corrected as he moved closer to you than he already was. “Got the make-up a bit heavy on my lips. Now, what are you supposed to do when that happens?” He asked, his thumb running against your lips as he talked about his.

“B-blot them…” you whispered against the digit.

“Then help me blot them.” He hummed back as he moved his hand and turned his head so he had ample room to lean his mouth onto yours.

The kiss that he gave you somehow managed to be rough and short, like he was truly using you to even out his make-up. He pulled away from you, making a comical pop sound like he just burst a bubble, and was nothing but grins and giggles at the sight of you still trying to catch up with everything that just happened.

Then, Buggy took off his glove as to not dirty it, and used his finger to spread the paint that had rubbed onto your face during the kiss to make a rouge grin to match his own.

“See? I told ya, you’d make a good clown!” He teased and snorted out a laugh.

[kirbykonka]

Stone Ocean things I would have liked to see, as a Floridian:

—forgetting that it’s winter because it’s literally 70 degrees. 80 degrees on Christmas isn’t uncommon but it is disappointing every time it happens

—blaming deaths on not just alligators, but also pythons (works well around the Everglades)

—the fashion sense of the characters actually isn’t that far off

—they must say “y’all”

—unless it’s in South FL you’ll be seen as a traitor

—walking outside in summer and being hit with a miasma of mosquitos and heat and moisture that will make you feel like you’re being eaten alive (because you are being eaten alive)

—hitting someone with your car is so easy with wet roads

—FL judicial system is on fleek and after all the crazy shit people do lawyers are so done with us

—strip malls. No one goes there except middle aged mothers shopping for shoes or perfume.

—The real teenage hangout place is Walmart. I am not joking. I have been there many times after school and on weekends and every single time we’d go there were other kids our age.

—we don’t even buy anything most times we just walk around

—everyone is poor af unless you’re south (Miami and the Keys)

—in Miami/Tampa/Jax or any big city people also won’t go to strip malls because there’s a 50/50 on whether or not they get shot up

—we hunt pythons seasonally since they are invasive, you can win prizes for this. I feel like Jolyne and Ermes would enjoy that hobby

—four-wheeling. More of a southern USA thing as a whole, but there are miles of open tracks to take your ATV out to. Very fun with friends where you can race and see who DOESNT stall their four wheeler in a lake

—snakes in the backyard, they’re EVERYWHERE. Could have been so easy for them to chase an albino Burmese python thinking it was White Snake 😭

—toads coming out at the beginning of spring and making every little kid so happy that they have prey again, Emporio is def a frog hunter

—when the toads are hibernating we go after lizards instead, Emporio again is def a lizard hunter

—the monkeys loose in the woods. I’ll let you research that on your own.

—thrift stores are full of winter clothing because of all the northerners who migrate down here, Weather Report must have gotten only those 💀

—you’ll know a prison is nearby because there will be a road sign saying “don’t stop for hitchhikers”

—There is no such thing as a clean beach

—marshland is more common than dirt

—“dirt” here is basically just sand there are zero minerals in it so it’s hella hard to farm

—DUST. EVERYWHERE. BUT ITS ALSO SO HOT YOULL DIE. BUT ITS ALSO WET SO YOULL MELT.

—humidity is constantly over 80%, that means you’re going to sweat no matter what you do

—and for last, the Florida man “memes” aren’t memes at all. That’s actually what people are like here. We have had kids expelled for slashing tires, we have had people arrested for driving gaming chairs, we have had snakes eat people whole.

Florida is literally hell itself.

And we are all so proud to be here.

This has been my Floridian PSA, thank you for reading 🥰

[your-old-sins-tournament]

12 YEAR OLD OCS; SIDE B

Pink [@somebodytolove31] (she/her or he/him)

Okey so basically I created her for a superhero school roleplay I had with friends, her tragic backstory is that her father is a deadbeat but is also a hero, he got Pink's mom pregnant and then told her if she ever approached him he would kill her. Pink had a nice life with her single mom until the mom got sick and decided to go to Hero, thinking maybe he would have a bit of compassion, needless to say he didn't and followed through his promise. Pink saw all of this and now it's her life's purpose to kill him, even if it kills her.

I recently refound the roleplay and decided to develop the character on her own, I may have changed the setting and her gender and other shit, but I've decided to not touch her backstory or her character arc where she starts making friends and realizes there's a lot more to life than just revenge (she still gets his dad arrested, but that's a long story)

Oh yeah did I mention she can turn into a wolf? She can turn into a wolf

Anyway please vote for her

Erin [@silveredcircuitry] (she/her)

Snarky and ridiculously overpowered illusionist who got captured by an evil organization for an unclear reason and by means that didn't make much sense because they required her powers not work on the people capturing her. That doesn't matter though because the entirety of the plot I actually figured out was just an excuse for her to cause problems and fuck with people psychologically.

Had a thing with making finger guns that would shoot out illusory (but still pretty painful) bullets and smoke. She is part of me wanting to draw finger guns so badly that I actually learned bits and pieces of how to draw hands.

Her sense of fashion was just an amalgamation of a bunch of things I found neat but also easy to draw at the time, including a bandanna around her neck and a bag shaped like a lime slice (some kind of citrus anyway). I didn't even have especially interesting taste in my current opinion. I did not draw her in evil government prison but my mental image of her is only in her street clothes and i think my idea of it was she just got dumped in a cell in whatever she was wearing when they kidnapped her lmao.

I'm genuinely a little tempted to redesign her as a character in a superhero or "one weird power per person" setting, with the finger gun gimmick as a necessary thing for targeting. And also push her fashion sense a bit further.

Anyway if nothing else you gotta give her props for having a fingergun motif and not being like. a pyromancer or anything that could make her physically do that. And also the mind games and teaching me how to draw hands :)

[jojotichakorn]

archer rewatches nlmg: episode 11

[episode 10]

i kinda love that palm came so close to considering killing tanya. there is something very meaty, very juicy there.

hey, we're not catholic here. thinking about doing something and doing it are very different things.

absolutely insane and diabolical, i love it

literally one of my favourite mini-eras of their relationship. palm as an official personal bodyguard. they also look sooooooo fucking hot, just look at them!!!

i desperately want to analyse their fashion sense in-depth because i am obsessed with it. and it feels intentional. palm is genuinely stylish. his current change in status just built off of what he always wears, so he simply has a jacket on top of his standard tasteful hawaiian shirt and white low cut tank-top, he always accessorises and has a variety of bracelets and necklaces he wears as well. meanwhile, nueng is very much "i know which items of clothing i should wear for which occasion and... that's it", so he goes for a regular short-sleeved top + shorts pairing on the island and now wears a very straightforward suit and tie combo, and it all very much gives off a "someone else bought all these clothes for me and i'm just throwing together whatever my eyes fall on first" vibe.

well, i have good news for you, kit. a little while longer and you won't have to imagine what it's like when you son sends you to rot and die in prison :)

don't mind me, i'm just trying to figure out how short i am in comparison to pond (results: devastating)

and thank gods for that

gjdflkgjkdf friend? they su[gunshot]

speaking of fashion, chopper's looks are also very stylish and very intentional like!! idk, i wanna talk to the costume designers of this thing asap.

*chanting* PAT-RI-CIDE PAT-RI-CIDE PAT-RI-CIDE

PERTH IS SO FUCKING GOOD I SWEAR TO GODS

look at him, gushing to his mom about his boyfriend, he is so happy with palm and so in love with him 🥹

babe, i know you're insane, but everything should have limits. you are staying together forever or else. this is a threat.

thinking of palm daydreaming about dancing with nueng, when they were dancing with other people. thinking of palm dancing with nueng, when he was drunk and grieving his mom and about to lose nueng. seeing them finally dancing together happily, making plans for the future, promising to never leave each other again.

again, when is it my turn

i'm obsessed with nueng's personality growth btw. babygirl is literally being held hostage and he is laughing in kit's face lmao.

[finale]

[padfootswhiskers]

How about 7 for Harry and 14 for Sirius?

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

While I read the books ages ago, I’ve only recently joined the fandom so my apologies if this is wildly wrong 😂 but what I’ve noticed in the corners of fandom I’ve interacted with so far is that for the most part, people genuinely love Harry! No matter how much they might differ on other, er, more controversial characters. Which is great, because Harry is extremely lovable!

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

Okay this one’s interesting! When we actually meet Sirius, he’s just escaped from Azkaban so he’s wearing prison robes. In both gof and ootp, he’s wearing robes again, which I imagine must be plain af because Harry never describes their colour/pattern (but this doesn’t really mean he prefers wizarding robes since at this point in canon he’s got like, 99 other, more pressing problems than what to wear, xD.) We also know Sirius can dress convincingly as a Muggle (unlike several other witches and wizards we see in the series). As can James, apparently, since we have this from the Elvendork prequel:

Both were dressed in T-shirts emblazoned with a large golden bird; the emblem, no doubt, of some deafening, tuneless rock band.

The only firm headcanon I have of his fashion aesthetic is…it’s really low effort. It’s careless.

Whether it’s wizarding robes or Muggle jeans, Sirius is the type of guy who’d look drop dead gorgeous rolling out of bed in his bedcovers. I can’t see him wearing carefully embroidered robes like Yaxley or wacky colours like Dumbledore, and jeans and a simple tee are pretty much the only Muggle clothing I can see him in. I don’t get the impression that Sirius particularly cares about his appearance. He just doesn’t have to.

So basically, my answer is…the aesthetic wherein you get the sense that he hasn’t tried at all, and that makes it sexier, somehow 😂

[selamat-linting]

i realized a lot of gender affirming feelings i have are tied up to the sense of being a breadwinner. that is, i would rather spend my time dealing with the physical dysphoria of wearing make up and girl clothes than deal with the dysphoria of feeling emasculated from unemployment. its fucking stupid, i know that doing work is not a masculine or a feminine things its just work!!! i didnt expect myself to be that kind of old-fashioned guy who wants to Provide™ at all costs. in my irrational brain, its goes like this, physically im not taken seriously as a man, and if im unemployed i cant do traditionally masculine and chivalrous things nor give myself gender affirming things like appropriate clothes, binders, etc so i deserve to feel bad and horrible about myself. its very yikes. like damn, im being duped, cant believe capitalism made me think working is gender™, this masculinity shit is wack and i cant exactly hope to follow an idealized non-exploitative version of it because the version im ingrained with is still tied up to the cisheteropatriarchal society that produced it. okay eventually with sufficient self crit i suppose i'll find peace and a healthier gender expression, but in the mean time this is a bitch to deal.

also its not like i can be unemployed right now? like, my dad might be free from prison and working construction right now but my salary is still bigger and my job has more security. i really cant quit working or else we cant afford rent. so i guess coping with that insecurity by trying to find some kind of joy from work no matter how silly is like, a survival strategy. also, i guess being a guy only in my days off is better than being broke and stuck in the house 24/7 being someone im not.

[totaldrama-showdowns]

Submissions that didn’t make it into the Best Outfit Showdown! Including invalid ones. With the amount of characters nominated, the requirement to enter became three separate submissions! Apologies if a character you submitted didn’t make it in!

millie

“it's very cute! cute colours and it's realistic. her boots are a little off but her jacket makes up for it #millie sweep”

Leonard

“he's got that garden gnome-type swag. that spellcaster rizz. look me in the eyes and tell me this absolute LARPing chad isn't drowning in [REDACTED].”

Junior

“he looks more like a teenager than anyone else. I look at him and think "yeah that's a 13 year old". they peaked”

Bear Suit Izzy

“Go girl, you slay in that fursuit”

Izzy (in her swimsuit)

“Her outfit fits her personality pretty well already, and i think her swimsuit's even better! Especially when she has a harpon. She would have a harpon.”

pilot chef

“he didn't go to flight school but he DID buy a pilots outfit and that's what really counts :)”

jo

“she was so real for showing up to an internationally broadcasted reality TV show in a hoodie and sweatpants”

Ella

“Her dress is actually pretty! Also her dress behind above her knees fits the environment she's in”

anne maria

“she slays idk”

the ice dancers, both of them.

“they served”

sugar

“idk I like her”

mike

“Minecraft”

Julia

“It just really works for her”

Rodney

“I would wear that”

Lindsay's up the creek outfit; José; Jasmine

“It's sooo awesome I fucking love it.jkirt (jean skirt) and a cool red top?? Slay I love her sooo much

José has blue and black which slaaaays Alejandro's colour scheme I'm sooo sorry but also not really

Jasmine. Nuff said yeah boyyyyyyyyy!!!”

The local from bjorken telephone

“She SLAYED that swan. We all know that. No one else dresses better than her”

KITTY!!!

“Her outfit is totally cute and I think it holds up today :D”

Jasmine

“The colors look really good on her and work well with the environment (A female character with proper shoes! wow!) and her personality. The attention to detail that since shes so tall she doesnt really properly fit into her clothes is funny”

Heather

“It's cunty. It's iconic. It screams "early 2000s" and it's so HEATHER”

Scarlett

“really really fucking cute. Highlights aspects of her character which is especially good for her being a twist villain. The colors harmonize well especially in scenes with dark colored backgrounds”

Blaineley

“What can I say? She's hot. The outfit works”

“her outfit makes sense, unlike all of the others on this show”

Princess Courtney

“It’s purple and Courtney is pretty and I like her :)”

Drama Brothers Harold

“idk why he was in the last poll his fit goes hard”

jen

“her outfit is so cute. i love her sweater. plus she’s literally a fashion blogger”

Josee

“the color scheme is nice and idk she looks cute i love her”

Ellody

“she looks so nerdy it fits her character so well. and her outfit is just adorable”

courtney’s human cricket costume

“the little antenna are so cute. and she was so smart for coming up with it. she deserved to win that challenge”

courtney in the weird blonde wig

“the outfit isnt that special but it’s so iconic. that moment changed lives”

Laurie

“ok largely this is because i had a crush on her when i was 11”

Gwen’s pajamas

“How come Gwen goes to sleep wearing an awesome fit but when she wakes up she looks at her 3 shirts and goes "Yeah this is perfect"”

Chase…

“His outfit is good. Only his outfit. I'm a big fan of it. Chase himself sucks tho”

SIERRA CODY SHIRT

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU SIERRA”

HEATHER BUNNY PAJAMAS

“shes soooo cute!! why didnt they keep those i luv u heather it was nice to see.. heather that likes pink bunnies she tries to keep that side of herself secret too often<3”

military tank top chef

“tom of finland slay”

Prison fit duncan

“finally”

craptry sugar

“SUGA HOLLA!!! it was sooo cute i loved it the pink jeans looked great and i definitely prefer the pink and white color scheme to her regular outfit and i love her regular outfit too! but pink jeans!! i luv u sugar”

Intern Dakota

“SHE SLAYED THAT”

“slayed what else is there to say <3”

Cowboy Chris

“bro’s got the drip”

Shed

“I love their cat headphones and their gamer chair. super swag”

“Love the gaming chair :)”

Bridgette

“Her hoodie is super cute imo”

camel

“i have vague memories of a camel slaying in rr”

Ripaxel

“They rock my world like a hurricane”

[sibyl-of-space]

what inspired the character designs in amadeus?

What a fun question! With the caveat that specific things can't be discussed without spoilers (and therefore won't be discussed), I'll try to talk about them to the best of my ability.

Amadeus:

I made the first sketches of his design so long ago I barely remember what the initial vibes were. I do remember that his long straight hair and rich boy vibes were kind of meant to be Lucius Malfoy-ish (Prisoner of Azkaban was a huge reason I initially became obsessed with werewolves, so that's where this inspiration came from. I don't want Amadeus to have anything to do with HP beyond this, for obvious reasons; but I should admit this influence).

As far as his actual clothing, Amadeus's weird shirt-coat thing is actually largely drawn from the cape I made for a DGS Sherlock Holmes cosplay. Hound of the Baskervilles is another huge inspiration for the game, and I find it way easier to draw clothes that I have made or worked with in some way, so I drew from that.

(this is the only photo I have easily on hand, lmao)

The pants for his full design are based off of pants I made for a Lloyd Irving cosplay, and the boots kind of are as well. So well, pretty much, cosplay gave me a ton of experience interpreting weird clothes into IRL fashion and making them, so now I get to do the opposite thing where I have a ton of weird clothes I've made that I can pull from when thinking about what characters might wear.

The most iconic part of his design, the arms, well... to put this in vague terms because of spoiler reasons: that was an example of the design actually being revised to fit plot details. It has resulted in a way cooler and more interesting design, but it wasn't originally there. I had to realize some plot things before I could reflect them in the design, and now the design would be unrecognizable without it.

Solea:

Solea went under drastic revision since my first version of her, because her character also underwent drastic revision and the OG design no longer felt like her. I wrote about this a little bit in a devlog, but in order to draw a hairstyle for her that I liked, I spent about 3 hours watching Black haircare videos on YouTube to get a feel for different typical styles for her hair texture and variations on those styles, and bookmarking the ones that felt like they had the right vibes. After that, I drew a mockup and sent it to a friend who has similar hair texture to Solea, and asked "does this hairstyle make sense?" and she said "yep!" so it was a go.

In terms of the rest of her design: I'm being intentionally vague here, but there are reasons she looks the way she does, and it took a lot of tweaking to get it to feel right. My favorite part is the ugly ass gardening gloves she's got on. Without those it still felt too Disney's Hercules-esque (especially the top half - her bottom half design fixes this somewhat, but you can't see it in the talksprite). But the big ugly functional gardening glove contrasting with her pretty flowing fabrics I think results in the right aesthetic for her.

The Witch:

It came to me in a dream.

OK, not really, what actually happened was I was thinking about Amadeus while lying in bed about to go to sleep, and for some reason imagined the witch who lives in his home now descending from the second floor banister looking like some abstract weird ass orange-red creature. It was one of those things where I was just like "that's weird as fuck. Kind of creepy. ...Let's do it." I remembered the head was circular with square "petals" protruding, and the bottom was kind of triangular, but since it was all made up in my head it wasn't that concrete. So when it came time to actually draw her, I drew from the stylized and very Shaped designs in Super Paper Mario, and tried to get it to feel close to the image in my head.

...It was only after coloring it that I realized it looks very, very Homestuck. This was probably a huge subconscious influence, but not for a second did I consciously consider it. If anything I think my initial daydream was inspired by an enemy from Final Fantasy VIII.

Anyway, hope this was somewhat interesting! Thanks for the ask!