#lady rebecca fashions
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A Young Person's Introduction to Late 19th-Century Western Fashion
hello fellow youths
General information
Banner, Bernadette. "Exposing Victorian Influencers Who 'Facetuned' Their Photos. (Photo Manipulation was EVERYWHERE)." YouTube. July 17, 2021.
English Heritage. "Fashion Through History: Episode 1 – Victorians." YouTube. February 9, 2023.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "100 Years of Fashion // The Fashionable Plus Size Silhouette from 1820-1910." YouTube. June 5, 2021.
Victoria and Albert Museum. "100 Years of Fashionable Womenswear: 1830s – 1930s | V&A." YouTube. July 18, 2023.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "Victorian Fashion Is Not What You Think It Is." YouTube. March 19, 2019.
Accessories
Banner, Bernadette. ""Afro-Victorian": Bringing Historical Black Women's Dress into the 21st Century w Cheyney McKnight." YouTube. October 20, 2021.
Cox, Abby. "A Fashion Historian Explains the History of the Handbag." YouTube. January 26, 2023.
Rudolph, Nicole. "Dangerous Things in Victorian Pockets : Mens Pocket History." YouTube. March 2, 2024.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The Controversial History of Color Season Analysis." YouTube. November 4, 2023.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "Disgusting and Creepy Victorian Fashion Trends." YouTube. October 17, 2018.
Bustles and hoopskirts
Donner, Morgan. "Weirdest Victorian Invention: The Bustle-Chair (and we made one)." YouTube. November 20, 2020.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "100 Years of Underwear // The Changing Plus Size Shape from Regency to Victorian to Edwardian." YouTube. May 1, 2021.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "All About Bustles! A Deep Dive into 1870s Fashions." YouTube. December 26, 2023.
Rudolph, Nicole. "Why were Victorian Hips Controversial?" YouTube. September 12, 2021.
Cosmetics
Birchwood, Vasi. "1800s Makeup Is Not What You Think." YouTube. July 21, 2023.
English Heritage. "Queen Victoria Makeup Tutorial | History Inspired | Feat. Amber Butchart and Rebecca Butterworth." YouTube. May 20, 2019.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "I Used Only Victorian Cosmetics For a Week." YouTube. July 26, 2023.
Fabrics
Rudolph, Nicole. "Did Silk Spontaneously Combust in the Victorian Era?" YouTube. August 8, 2021.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Elastic." YouTube. July 4, 2021.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The Truth About Arsenic in the Victorian Era." YouTube. January 24, 2021.
Gowns
Bullat, Samantha. "Dress Historian Analyzes Victorian Mourning Clothing of the Mid-19th Century." YouTube. March 14, 2021.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "All About 1860's Fashion // What did Civil War-era fashion look like?" YouTube. November 12, 2022.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "How did fashion evolve from 1850-1859? // 1850's Fashion Deep Dive." YouTube. October 1, 2022.
Rudolph, Nicole. "Victorian Fast Fashion? The Truth about the History of Disposable Clothing." YouTube. February 6, 2022.
SnappyDragon. "Were the Pre-Raphaelites painting accurate medieval dress . . . or Victorian fairtytalecore?" YouTube. April 26, 2024.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "19th Century Fashion - How To Tell Different Decades Apart?" YouTube. November 17, 2017.
Hair care and styling
Banner, Bernadette. "Following a Victorian Home Made Hair Care Routine (1889)." YouTube. September 11, 2021.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "Getting Dressed in an 1888 Daisy Costume // Easy Bustle-Era Hair Tutorial." YouTube. November 13, 2020.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "Getting Dressed in the 1870s & 1874 Hairstyle Tutorial." YouTube. February 23, 2020.
Rudolph, Nicole. "Why did Victorian Women Cut their Hair Short?" YouTube. December 18, 2022.
Laundry and housekeeping
English Heritage. "A Tour of the Laundry - The Victorian Way." YouTube. September 6, 2019.
English Heritage. "How to Wash Up - The Victorian Way." YouTube. March 18, 2021.
English Heritage. "Laying the Table at Christmas – The Victorian Way." YouTube. December 14, 2022.
Walkley, Christina, and Vanda Foster. Crinolines and Crimping Irons: Victorian Clothes: How They Were Cleaned and Cared for. Peter Owen Limited: London, 1978.
Outerwear and working wear
Birchwood, Vasi. "What Irish Working Women Wore in the Late 19th Century | I Made the Clothing of My Irish Ancestors." YouTube. June 23, 2023.
English Heritage. "The Real Mrs Crocombe | Part Four: A Victorian Cook's Outfit." YouTube. July 5, 2018.
Stowell, Lauren. "It's Hot: Let's Look At Some Bathing Suits." American Duchess. August 18, 2023.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Jeans, T-shirts, and Hoodies: Time Travel 101." YouTube. March 20, 2022.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "The 1851 Women's Pants That Made The Victorians Go Crazy." YouTube. March 2, 2020.
Shoes
Rudolph, Nicole. "100 years of Antique Boots." YouTube. February 10, 2024.
Rudolph, Nicole. "How to Make Regency & Victorian Shoes: Beginner Shoemaking." YouTube. June 27, 2021.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The Myth of Tiny Feet "Back Then"." YouTube. September 26, 2021.
Undergarments
Banner, Bernadette. "I Wore a (Medical) Corset for 5 Years. How do Victorian Corsets Compare?" YouTube. November 7, 2020.
Banner, Bernadette. "Making Some Frilly Victorian Underwear || 1890s Combinations." YouTube. February 9, 2019.
Birchwood, Vasi. "What Victorians Wore to Bed." YouTube. May 5, 2023.
Cox, Abby. "I made weird Victorian underwear (it's a knit onesie) & a pretty 1890s corset || historical sewing." YouTube. March 21, 2021.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "How 8 Different Historical Corsets Affect the Same Plus Size Body." YouTube. December 12, 2020.
Rudolph, Nicole. "100 Years of Corset History: How 8 Corsets affect the same body." YouTube. November 29, 2020.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "How Did Victorian Ladies Stay Warm in Winter? || THE EXPERIMENT." YouTube. January 22, 2021.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "How Did Victorian Women Deal With Their Periods?" YouTube. October 17, 2019.
#victorian era#history#fashion#karolina zebrowska#youtube#video#nicole rudolph#bernadette banner#abby cox#lady rebecca fashions#american duchess#shoes#hair care#hairstyle#morgan donner#1800s#1860s#us history#american history#cosmetics#gilded age#reconstruction era#1850s#1870s#menstruation#1880s#1890s#gibson girl#reference#edwardian era
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Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica Atreides in ‘Dune’ (Film, 2021).
#rebecca ferguson#lady jessica atreides#dune#fashion#blonde hair#blue eyes#fantasy#robert morgan#jacqueline west
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Until We Found You | Part IX
And we’ve finally made it to the last chapter of Until We Found You. Fun fact, I had the first part and this one ready at the same time. I had the vision for it and you’ll see why it’s titled the way it is at the end. I really enjoyed writing this, I love it so much. Thanks to everyone who also voiced their love for it, you all are so kind and I wish you the best. Also, in true scream fashion, we had to mention psycho. For this last time, heed the tags.
Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Poly!Ghostface x reader, NSFW, All characters 18+
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII
Word Count: 1404
”Baby come on! You’re gonna miss the movie!” Stu yelled out as he took a seat on the left side of the couch. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” you huffed out as you walked down the stairs. “if someone kept all my things where I leave them I wouldn’t be running late,” you said teasingly, hearing Stu laugh. “Oh come on baby, you know seeing makeup and hair shit scares the ladies away,” he teased as you rolled your eyes. “Careful Stu, she’ll probably choke you out if she finds out about another girl,” Billy said as he walked by you, offering you a soda which you gladly accepted, planting a kiss to his cheek as you two walked to the couch together. You sat besides Stu, Billy on your right as Stu placed a blanket over all three of you.
“So what are we watching?” You asked as you relaxed back, smiling as Billy set the popcorn bowl in your lap. “Psycho,” Billy said with a smile. “ah, going old school today? We should watch Rebecca after,” you added in as Stu smiled. “I like your thinking, doll, I was gonna say we should watch that too,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
You three were about half an hour into the movie, your head resting on Billy’s shoulder as you held hands with Stu. You felt his hand leave yours, making you whine in protest and look over to him. “I’m bored,” Stu said as he yawned, Billy looking over and rolling his eyes. “How about we play a game then?” He asked as you and Stu’s attention now settled on the older male. “What kind of game?” You asked as Billy smirked. “Our own kind of game, baby,” he hummed, Stu smirking as if he knew exactly what Billy was talking about. “You’re gonna let Stu play around with you, but I’m going to question you. Don’t worry, it should be easy for you baby, it’ll be all about horror movies.” He smirked, looking at you like you were about to be his prey, you cowered a little at his gaze, pushing your thighs together as you grew needy just from his look. “Awh, look at that Billy, already getting turned on for us,” Stu said as he adjusted and set you on his lap, his hands running over your clothed body as Billy moved to sit next to you two. “Easy question as a warm up baby, which character and me share the same last name?” He questioned, his breath fanning over your neck, goosebumps raising on your skin as Stu’s fingers twiddled with the hem of your shirt. “Sam…Sam Loomis…” you spoke out, looking to your side before Billy turned your head back to the tv, “eyes on the movie, baby,” he hummed, smirking as you squirmed as Stu lifted up your shirt.
“Another one, baby,” Billy whispered into your ear, it had been another half hour since they started their little game. Tears streaked down your cheeks, your skin was blushed and already bruising from their marks being left on you, and you were shaking and squirming in Stu’s lap. “Please Billy, please, Stu,” you whined out their names, trying to get away from the pleasure as they chuckled at your state. “One last question sweetheart,” Billy promised you, swiping his tongue over his lips as he looked over your exposed body. “How many different times did they film the shower scene?” He asked, his hands groping your breasts as Stu’s fingers pumped into you. “What?” You questioned as Stu smirked against your neck. “How many different takes did they have for the shower scene baby? Come on, it’s easy,” Stu said as you whined, a loud moan leaving your lips as Stu played with your clit. “90! It- It’s 90!” You exclaimed, letting out a cry when they stopped their touches. Billy tsked, shaking his head, “you were so close baby,” he said as you whined. “78 shots, all for those famous 45 seconds,” Billy hummed, smiling and kissing you before Stu pulled you away for his own kiss. “Please…please, I wanna cum…” you begged, giving them both puppy dog eyes. Stu visibly melted, now looking to Billy with the same eyes, knowing both of you might get in trouble if he didn’t get his permission. “I’m dating two needy fucks, aren’t I?” He sighed, giving you another kiss before reaching over to Stu, whispering into his ear before giving a kiss to his cheek. “You’ll cum, but only if you let both of us cum first,” Billy said to you, you nodding your head quickly. “Since I got you to myself last time, why don’t you use that pretty mouth on me while Stu plays with that pretty cunt of yours,” he said as he moved back, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down along with his underwear to his mid thigh. You moved, getting onto your hands and knees on the cushions as you crawled slightly to Billy, opening your mouth and licking his tip. A groan left his lips at the touch, his hand snaking into your hair as Stu got to work with stretching you out.
It wasn’t hard, having already been fingering you relentlessly during their game, using the slick that you were leaking to help lube you up even more. You took Billy into your mouth, holding the base of his cock with one hand while your other held your body up. Moans left your lips and vibrated through his cock as Stu played with you, little whimpers and whines helping aid to Billy’s pleasure as Stu took his fingers away. You could see through your fluttered eyelids that Billy’s head had tilted up to match Stu’s gaze, finding out why when you felt Stu push against your entrance. “So pretty f’me baby, so fucking wet,” Stu groaned as he pushed in, making you moan as your walls sucked him in further.
“God, you’re fucking sucking me in, doll,” he moaned, taking his time thrusting into you to allow you to adjust. But with the two boys who had been worked up for nearly an hour now, they were quick to use you for their release. It felt like four seconds before they began to thrust into you from both ends, you could tell they were trying to match their speed to make you delirious. You enjoyed times like these with them, when their pleasure was focused on, not that they didn’t pay attention to you, but it made your head spin when they used you freely. Stu reached one hand down between your body and the couch, circling around your clit, making you moan and arch your back in pleasure. Billy gripped your hair harder, fucking into your throat with grunts and groans leaving every other second. Stu was just as vocal, his thrusts getting sloppier with time. “Be a good girl and open that mouth wider for me, little bunny,” Billy said as he pulled out, you looked up to him with a fucked out look as you held your mouth open, feeling your sanity being ripped from you as Stu thrusted even harder into you. Billy moaned out your name as he pumped himself, cumming into your mouth and partially across your face. Stu meanwhile had one hand bruising your waist with his grip while the other played with your clit, making you moan and push against him. Stu came and slowed down his thrusts slowly, you whimpering and moaning out as his hand didn’t stop pleasuring you. “Cum for us baby, you want to be good, don’t you?” Billy asked, holding your chin up to look at him as you gave a weak nod, your moans getting more high pitched before finally climaxing, crying out as Stu helped you through your high.
“You know, I’m still kinda sad I was on your kill list,” you mumbled, cuddled between your two boyfriends on the bed, all ready to go to sleep now hours after their game. “hey, you know that was just the plan until we found you” “and before we found out you had the hots for ghostface,” Stu added after Billy, making you smile and shake your head. “whatever dorks, just go to bed already, gotta wake up early for that gale interview,” you said, smiling as you gave them both a kiss.
#poly!ghostface#poly!ghostface x reader#poly!ghostface x female reader#poly!ghostface smut#billy loomis#billy loomis x reader#billy x stu x reader#billy loomis brainrot#billy loomis smut#stu macher#stu macher x reader#stu macher brainrot#stu macher smut#ghostface#ghostface x reader#scream au#scream x reader#scream#scream1996#scream 1996#obsessed!reader#smut#fluff#angst#finale
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Propaganda
Miriam Hopkins (Design For Living, Trouble in Paradise)—miriam hopkins had great range as an actresses, truly a woman who could play a passionate outburst for either dramatic or comedic effect and sell the ever-loving hell out of it. she's wonderful in the witty and sophisticated comedies she made with ernst lubitsch, great examples of movies that could never have been made after the hays code; the frothy musical comedy the smiling lieutenant where she plays a naive princess who accidentally gets betrothed to maurice chevalier, the polyamory classic design for living where she gary cooper and hot vintage shadow king fredric march are a throuple, and the ineffably exquisite comedic masterpiece trouble in paradise in which she and hubert marshall are sexy jewel thieves trying to con sexy rich lady kay francis, but will emotional complications ensue???? watch to find out!!
Joan Fontaine (Rebecca, Suspicion, Ivanhoe)— Check out the screen tests of other actresses for Rebecca to fully grasp how subtly and effectively she plays the role. Competence porn! Good acting before the method!
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]
Miriam Hopkins:
She is an incredibly charismatic and versatile actress who brings a certain captivating je ne sais quois to each and every one of her roles that makes her impossible to ignore. Her pre-code films were considered quite risqué, with her part in a thrupple in Design For Living, and some saucy scenes they had to cut from Jekyll and Hyde. She also had a strong career in early television, so good that this queen literally has TWO Hollywood Stars, TWO!! One for TV and one for Film
youtube
Also she is Gorgeous, capable of being the girl nextdoor and also a stunning blonde bombshell. She's not as well known as some golden-age Hollywood stars but she's really incredible and I recommend everyone watch her films
In Trouble in Paradise she plays a pickpocket who flirts by stealing from her criminal boyfriend and I fell in love
queen of the pre-code era. often her roles were of carefree, flirty and lighthearted but intelligent women. famously in the movie where she was part of a fredrich march/gary cooper throuple.
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Linked gifset
She's got this sly slouchy confidence that just draws you in. Almost no one wore 30s fashion as well as her
We all know that Design for Living is THE pre-code movie and she is so iconic in it. Her eyes are everythingggg. Also everyone look at her in a suit in She Loves Me Not please
A Frequent collaborator of Ernst Lubistch, Miriam Hopkins like up the screen in her comic roles, as is especially sexy in her pre-code performance in Design for Living; probably one of the first movies to showcase a coded polyamorous relationship. She toes the line between adorable and sexy, and had the acting chops to back it all up.
Joan Fontaine:
ABSOLUTELY too hot to have played Jane Eyre like what were they thinking.
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hii!!!! can i request karaoke hcs for the brothers? (could u also add what song u think they'd sing lol) ty very much <333
Karaoke Headcanons
Lucifer
Believe it or not, Lucifer actually enjoys doing karaoke, especially with his brothers. Not that he would ever admit it, though.
It will take a lot of convincing to get him to do it since he has an image to maintain.
He will never laugh at the person singing no matter how bad they might sound.
Lucifer actually becomes irritated when people laugh at someone's singing abilities. It's fine if someone is purposefully trying to sound bad. But if someone is genuinely trying their best, he will shoot whoever is laughing a nasty glare
Lucifer will most likely sing songs by either Kiss, Queen or Ghost.
Depending on the situation, the songs Lucifer sings might change. Let's say he, for instance, was alone with MC
Songs Lucifer might sing
Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen (obviously)
Square Hammer - Ghost
Cirice - Ghost
When alone with MC, tired, or drunk
Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen
Somebody to Love - Queen
I Was Made for Lovin' You - Kiss
Dance Macabre - Ghost
Are You Satisfied? - MARINA
Mammon
He loves karaoke and has a blast every time.
It's most likely him or Asmodeus, who suggested doing karaoke in the first place.
Super supportive and cheers for whoever is singing.
If someone is scared of singing, Mammon will offer to sing with them so they don't have to do it alone.
Mammon doesn't stick to a particular genre of songs. He does like upbeat songs but is not against singing a slow ballad.
Sometimes, he let his brothers pick what song to sing to mix things up.
Songs Mammon might sing
On Melancholy Hill - Gorillaz
I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor
Gasolina - Daddy Yankee
Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars
Just Dance Lady - Gaga
If you are extremely lucky, you might hear Mammon sing Can You Feel the Love Tonight.
Leviathan
He loves karaoke, but doing it in front of others is scary.
It takes a lot of convincing and encouragement to get him to sing karaoke with others.
Leviathan prefers to have at least 4 or 5 people sing before it's his turn. He needs tge time to prepare himself.
Once he has sung a song or 2, he will become confident, and you will have to force the mic out of his hands.
Anime songs, game fan songs and vocaloid need I say more.
Songs Leviathan might sing
Luka Luka☆ Nightfever - Samfree
the WORLD - Nightmare
Unravel - TK from Ling tosite sigure
World Is Mine - Ryo (supercell)
It's Been So Long - The Living Tombstone
He will absolutely pour his soul out to Unknown Mother Goose by Wowaka. He puts his entire heart into singing that song
Satan
He doesn't hold any particular opinion on karaoke. If asked he will join, but it's not something he would suggest himself.
Usually reads until it's his turn to sing.
Sings a lot of different types of songs. Another one who doesn't stick to a particular genre.
He will definitely be the one who is most likely to sing any form of metal.
Also, most likely to sing any songs involving cats
Songs Satan might sing
Spillways - Ghost
Mein Teil - Rammstein
Everybody Wants to Be a Cat - Aristocats
Sonne - Rammstein
Love Like You - Rebecca Sugar
Papaoutai - Stromae. Satan actually gets a bit emotional when he sings this one.
Asmodeus
Without a doubt, the biggest fan of karaoke amongst the brothers.
He is the reason why there is at least one karaoke night per month.
Asmodeus cheers on everyone who sings.
Now Asmodeus doesn't just sing he preforms. He will give you a whole show when his turn comes.
He likes upbeat dance music, but he is not against trying other genres. He will do an amazing job regardless of what song he sings
Like Lucifer, the songs he sings might depend on the situation and how he is feeling.
Songs Asmodeus might sing
S&M - Rihanna
Toxic - Britney Spears
Applaus - Lady Gaga
Bubblegum Bitch - MARINA
Mary on a Cross - Ghost
When sad, tired or drunk
Washing Machine Heart - Mitski
Gilded Lily - Cults
Hermit the Frog - MARINA
First Love/Late Spring - Mitski
Beelzebub
Another one who doesn't have a particular opinion on karaoke.
He does like it since it brings his brothers together and there tends to be lots of snacks to munch on.
He is very supportive and always encourages people to do their best.
Beelzebub will sing just about anything he doesn't have a preference and usually lets his brothers pick.
When Beelzebub picks songs himself, they tend to hit people right in the heart
Songs Beelzebub might sing
Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood
Feel Invincible - Skillit
Gimme Chocolate!! - BABYMETAL
Fix you - Coldplay
A Sky Full of Stars - Coldplay
Home - Cavetown
Fourth of July - Sufjan Stevens. This one tends to make his brothers shed a few tears.
Belphegor
Most of the time he joins because he is too tired to move away.
Doesn't have anything against karaoke it's just not his favourite thing.
Falls asleep most of the time and someone have to shake him awake even it is his turn
Belphegor does, however, try his best when either Beelzebub or MC are singing l.
Tends to pick calm songs or songs that doesn't require a lot of work.
Does join Satan from time to timecwhen he sings more aggressive songs
Songs Belphegor might sing
Rises the Moon - Liana Flores
Bad End Theatre True End ver. - NomnomNami
Aunnobeats - Maigo Hanyuu
Little Dark Age - MGMT
This Is Love - Air Traffic Controllers
Runaway - ARORA. It sounds absolutely amazing when he sings this song 10/10.
#obey me shall we date#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor
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"the confidence when he's playing a role vs the insecurity when he's being himself" is such a good way to put it, and there's times I've fantasized about having a line that deft to throw at the haters. I'll keep it in my back pocket if such a situation ever arises again.
Please do!
I've been an AtS fan for a long time, and something I've always found so compelling about Angel is how easy it is for him to slip into a disguise and walk into a situation armed only with his own confidence in the role he's playing. He does it several times - especially over the course of the first two seasons of AtS - and I am absolutely enthralled by it. He's suddenly an art museum guide, a police detective in charge of a crime scene, a priest, 'cool' vampire J-Don, a lawyer, a French guy who loves fashion. Angel would never go out in a Hawaiian shirt and beach hat on his own, but he has zero problem with becoming Herb Saunders: Clueless Tourist from Baltimore in front of a mob boss. There are a lot of things this says to me about his character:
He's clever.
He's spontaneous.
He's calm under pressure.
He's good at improv/bluffing and should probably call Rebecca Lowell's agent and just become an actor already.
He doesn't care how strangers perceive him. This is the one that I think a lot of fans don't really understand about Angel. This man does not give a fuck. The reason he wouldn't wear a Hawaiian shirt on a normal day but is happy to do it in front of Little Tony isn't because he's embarrassed for other people to see him in a loud shirt - clearly - but because Angel has his own particular style that he feels comfortable in as himself and doesn't want to wear something that doesn't appeal to him, unless he himself chooses to wear it for a reason. It's like with the pink motorcycle helmet. Angel has no problem with other people mistaking him for a gay man, so when he doesn't want to wear the ladies' helmet, it's not because it might affect anyone else's perception of him but because he doesn't want to wear that helmet and he didn't get a choice. He likes his dark clothes and he likes his car, and the fake swami accuses him of developing this type of style to cultivate a persona for other people to appreciate without taking into consideration that these things appeal to Angel himself regardless of what strangers think. The only folks that he does actually care about in terms of their impressions of him are his friends, and so he'll correct them (sometimes) when they misinterpret him, but often he lets them think what they want about him, too. Which is maybe why it feels like Angel is so often misunderstood in fandom - because so many fans simply accept other characters' opinions of Angel as if they are fact rather than actually looking at Angel himself. Like with the smiling thing. There's an overwhelming fannish opinion that Angel doesn't smile very much because there are characters in the show who say he should smile more. But outside of serious or dangerous situations, Angel actually smiles all the time, and if it's any less than Wes or Gunn then it's only because he's more often in situations where it would be really weird to be smiling. He's a pleasant guy unless he's been given a reason not to be!
I also headcanon that one of the reasons Angel is so good at pretending to be someone else is because human camouflage is something that is literally built into his physiology as a vampire. Pretending to be something they aren't is a super important skill for all vampires, not just defensively in order to move through the human-dominated world but also as a means of getting close to their primary source of food. Angel spent 150ish years using his human face to deceive his prey while hunting, then a further 100ish years using it to blend in and disappear. Wolf in sheep's clothing, except the sheep's clothing is a really fucking good impression of a normal human being and he can wear it all the time. It comes naturally to vampires to pass as something they're not (we're ignoring the friend of Xanderrrrr's here) and Angel has 250 years of experience of people-watching. If he couldn't do pretty good imitations of different kinds of people by this point, I'd be surprised and disappointed in him.
But also! When we first meet Angel in the show, he's had very little experience interacting with humans while he's trying to be himself and not play some role to accomplish some kind of purpose. He's never had friends before, at least not with a soul, and he has no example of another vampire with a soul to imitate or learn from. He's flying totally blind, navigating unfamiliar territory, AND has conflicting impulses. So when he's insecure about his feelings and actions and expectations in his own life, that is also as natural for him as the confidence when it comes to pretending to be someone else.
Er, thanks for coming to my TED Talk?
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SLENDER BROTHERS
MUSIC TASTE HCS
SURRENDERMAN
~Melanie Martinez~
Show & Tell
Evil
Fire Drill
Cry Baby
~Lana Del Rey~
Dealer
Carmen
~Mitski~
Stay Soft
Nobody
A Pearl
~System Of A Down~
Lonely Day
Chop Suey!
~The Brobecks~
Better Than Me
~Roar~
I Can't Handle Change
~Danny Rose~
Treading Water
SLENDERMAN
~Queen~
Bohemian Rhapsody
~ABBA~
Money, Money, Money
The Winner Takes It All
Eagle
~Army Of Lovers~
Crucified
~Pentakill~
Mortal Reminder
Infinity Edge
~Rammstein~
Mein Herz Brennt
Angst
Mutter
OFFENDERMAN
~Lindemann~
G-Spot Michael
~Rammstein~
Rosenrot
Ausländer
Dicke Titten
Amerika
Rein Raus
Bück Dich
Zërstoren
~Limp Bizkit~
Break Stuff
~Oingo Boingo~
No One Lives Forever
~Boney M.~
Rasputin
Daddy Cool
SPLENDORMAN
~OOMPH!~
Such Mich Find Mich
~Estelle~
Stronger Than You
American Boy
~Queen~
Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy
Play The Game
You're My Best Friend
Don't Stop Me
~Rebecca Sugar~
Love Like You
~ABBA~
Waterloo
Honey, Honey
I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do
TRENDERMAN
~Lady Gaga~
Donatella
Fashion!
Born This Way
911
~RuPaul~
Sissy That Walk
Call Me Mother
Catwalk
~Scarlett Johansson~
Heads Will Roll
~Marina~
Are You Satisfied?
Girls
#trenderman#splendorman#surrenderman#offenderman#creepypastas#slender brothers au#slender bros#slender brothers#slenderman au#slenderman#surrender#surrenderman au#Surrenderman headcanons#slenderman headcanons#offenderman headcanons#splendorman headcanons#trenderman headcanons#slender brother headcanons#headcanons#slender brothers music#cp#creepypasta au#creepypasta#i eat pasta for breakfast
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A Young Person's Introduction to Early 20th-Century Western Fashion
am i hip with the kids yet
General information
Dotschkal, Janna. "1920's." FOUND. October 21, 2016.
English Heritage. "Fashion Through History: Episode 3 – 1930s." YouTube. April 16, 2023.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Standardized Sizes in Womens Fashion and Why They FAILED." YouTube. May 16, 2021.
Vintagebursche. "100 Years of Classic Menswear - and what we can learn from each decade." YouTube. February 29, 2020.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "1920s Fashion Is Not What You Think It Is." YouTube. May 20, 2018.
Accessories
Cox, Abby. "Flappers, Y2K, & Capitalism are Why Women "Don't" Have Pockets." YouTube. January 12, 2023.
Cox, Abby. "The Disappointing Truth On Why We Don't Wear Hats Anymore..." YouTube. December 18, 2022.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of the Iconic Cloche Hat: Making 1920s Fashion." YouTube. September 18, 2022.
Rudolph, Nicole. "When Hats were Illegal: Sewing a Goth Edwardian Hat." YouTube. February 21, 2021.
Sheehan, Sarah. "Neo-Egyptomania." PatternVault. December 31, 2022.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "Why Did We Stop Wearing Hats?" YouTube. April 28, 2020.
Cosmetics
Banner, Bernadette. "Making and Testing a Victorian Skincare Routine." YouTube. April 8, 2023.
English Heritage. "1930s Makeup Tutorial | History Inspired | Feat. Amber Butchart and Rebecca Butterworth." YouTube. December 18, 2018.
Holland, Evangeline. "On How to Be Lovely." Edwardian Promenade. April 15, 2010.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The Controversial History of Color Season Analysis." YouTube. November 4, 2023.
Fabrics
Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Elastic." YouTube. July 4, 2021.
Rudolph, Nicole. "Wearing Overalls to Boycott Fashion Greedflation? Weird History of 1920." YouTube. March 16, 2024.
Gowns and formal wear
Banner, Bernadette. "I Redesigned Mary Poppins' Jolly Holiday Dress Based on REAL Edwardian Lingerie Gowns." YouTube. February 20, 2021.
Banner, Bernadette. "I Remade Mary Poppins’ Dress to be Actually Edwardian." YouTube. July 9, 2022.
Cox, Abby. "Alexander McQueen & the Patriarchy Problem in Modern Fashion." YouTube. October 20, 2023.
Cox, Abby. "What Makes a Gown Haute Couture (like House of Worth) in Victorian and Edwardian Eras?" YouTube. September 19, 2021.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "An Edwardian Woman's Fashion Evolution." YouTube. June 4, 2022.
Oakes, Leimomi. "Terminology: what is a lingerie dress or lingerie frock? (and blouse, and skirt)." The Dreamstress. July 21, 2018.
Rudolph, Nicole. "Stop Idolizing Coco Chanel: a shocking history of theft." YouTube. January 13, 2024.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The Truth about the Fringed Flapper: Making 1920s Evening Dresses." YouTube. November 6, 2022.
Vintagebursche. "1920s Theme Party - How to dress." YouTube. December 9, 2023.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "1920s Fashion Encyclopedia, Pt 1: Daywear." YouTube. November 27, 2019.
Hair care and styling
Banner, Bernadette. "I Tried Following a Real Edwardian Hair Care Routine." YouTube. May 12, 2020.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "Getting Dressed in the Edwardian Era / Gibson Girl Hairstyle Tutorial." YouTube. June 12, 2020.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "Titanic-era Hair Tutorial // Getting Dressed in the 1910's." YouTube.September 4, 2020.
SnappyDragon. "Historical hair myths debunked : How often should you wash your hair—daily shampoo or no shampoo?" YouTube. August 12, 2022.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "Weird Edwardian Beauty Tips." YouTube. February 11, 2017.
Laundry and starching
Banner, Bernadette. "Ok but how did the Edwardians WASH these dresses?" YouTube. August 3, 2022.
Outerwear
Cox, Abby. "Athleisure: Destroying Fashion & the Environment." YouTube. January 18, 2024.
Rudolph, Nicole. "150 years of Masc Women causing a Moral Panic." YouTube. June 17, 2023.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Jeans, T-shirts, and Hoodies: Time Travel 101." YouTube. March 20, 2022.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "SPRING/SUMMER FASHION TRENDS REVIEW but it's 1936 (ft. original fabric samples!)." YouTube. April 22, 2022.
Shoes
Rudolph, Nicole. "I Made Witchy Edwardian Shoes by Hand!" YouTube. March 14, 2021.
Rudolph, Nicole. "Making 100 year old Comfy Slippers: Free Pattern!" YouTube. December 30, 2023.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The Myth of Tiny Feet "Back Then"." YouTube. September 26, 2021.
Rudolph, Nicole. "The True History of Stiletto Heels : the battle between Ferragamo and Dior." YouTube. August 26, 2023.
Zebrowska, Karolina. "Why Is No One Talking About 1930s Shoes?" YouTube. September 15, 2020.
Undergarments
Banner, Bernadette. "1903 Patented Bustle Pad Reconstruction." YouTube. June 8, 2019.
Banner, Bernadette. "Achieving That Classic Edwardian Shape: Reconstructing a 1902 Bust Bodice." YouTube. April 16, 2020.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "So What are Guimpes Anyway? // Examining Antique Edwardian Guimpes." YouTube. August 21, 2020.
Lady Rebecca Fashions. "They Wore Corsets in the 1920's?!" YouTube. January 29, 2022.
Rudolph, Nicole. "Did Brassieres End the Corset?" YouTube. February 28, 2021.
Rudolph, Nicole. "Dressing in Edwardian Clothing: Undergarments and Layers of 1907." YouTube. November 1, 2020.
Rudolph, Nicole. "How Flappers got their Figure: the 1920s Silhouette." YouTube. July 10, 2022.
SnappyDragon. "How pin-up photos fooled dress history : the making and marketing of lingerie pictures." YouTube. April 1, 2023.
#1920s#1910s#roaring twenties#fashion#menswear#flapper#gibson girl#reference#1930s#1900s#early 1900s#coco chanel#brassiere#high heels#youtube#video#cosmetics#hairstyle#hair care#shampoo#nicole rudolph#abby cox#bernadette banner#lady rebecca fashions#snappydragon#karolina zebrowska#fashion history#history#art history#edwardian era
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Rebecca Ferguson
#rebecca ferguson#actress#icons#celebrity#fashionstyle#fashion sexsi hot#beautiful woman#model#lovely ladies#sexy celebrities#fashion model#pretty woman#lovely dress
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Meant to Be — Bucky Barnes (5)
Chapter 5 — Fie Ce-o Fi
Pairing: mafia!bucky x innocent!reader
Word count: 10,335
Summary: Preparations for the wedding have begun. How is the girl dealing with everything, and just what is James Barnes up to?
Warnings: depressive thoughts, language, brief violence and torture.
Note: Buckle in for a long one. Excuse any mistakes, I will fix them as I find them. Barely edited, because I wanted it out!
Welp. Let me know what you guys think. 💜💜
Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi
Main Masterlist│Series Masterlist│Series Playlist
Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6
I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow and called out, "It tastes sweet, does it not?" "You've caught me," grief answered, "and you've ruined my business. How can I sell sorrow when you know it's a blessing?"
— Jalaluddin Rumi
April 27th, 2018
A week. Was that enough time to plan a wedding? The girl didn't think so; neither did her wedding planner, who swore up a storm when she learned as much.
"Seven days?" the petite Japanese woman exclaimed when Fleur broke the news. "Seven days to plan a wedding? Seven days to plan the wedding of the century?"
For some reason, Leah Ishikawa, the wedding planner, kept getting stuck on the seven days. The girl was unfazed, however, having had the time to undergo a similar attack in the morning.
"Mr. Burgundy told me to encourage you to work closely with Mrs. Winnifred Barnes and Miss Rebecca," said Fleur in her thick accent, opting to take charge of the conversation since it was clear the girl was unable to. "I understand they have already done a lot of the work. Mr. Burgundy wants you to make sure all of the bride's expectations are met."
The girl was curled up on the couch in her room, listening idly to the conversation while she stared out the window. She briefly heard Leah mention a photoshoot of some sort but was promptly distracted by the guards making their rotations on the grounds.
Security had tightened immensely since her talk with her father that morning. He placed guards at all the entrances, and their job was to keep an eye on her. The one outside her room was particularly annoying, calling her "kiddo" and making jokes that all seemed to land short. He introduced himself as "Clint Barton, skilled marksman and your babysitter for the week." Clint was to follow the girl with two men of his choosing if she ever felt the need to make an appearance in public.
She did not. However, it was not up to her because, right away, Leah loudly declared that they were "going shopping."
They arrived at an exclusive Italian fashion house, whose name she couldn't pronounce, and the girl tried on multiple dresses of varying colours and lengths. She sat in the backseat of an escalade, with the child lock on, while Clint used her father's card to pay.
Back at the house, she stared numbly at the wall while light flashed in her peripheral, and a photographer asked her to smile.
She wanted to cry.
"For the invitations," Leah said. "I heard a rumour the Patriarch of All Romania was specifically asked to attend, so you better smile."
The girl mustered all the energy she could and did as asked. The artificial smile stayed on her face for the next few days. She made small talk with the esthetician lasering the hair off her body, and joked with the ladies at the spa who were giving her a manicure. The girl even spoke personally with the baker decorating her cake, telling him she wanted "something sweet and romantic, to symbolize the love she shared with her fiancé."
Her father's warning loomed a constant shadow over her. "Don't give me any reason to remind you."
The threat to her best friend's life kept the girl from showing her real emotions. A crippling fear coursed through her veins, and the pit in her gut that never seemed to go away became as prominent as ever. She spent her days smiling through several appointments with various professionals—florists, caterers, and musicians. She spent her nights curled up on the bean bag in the tree house, dreaming of her brother, waking up drenched in sweat in the aftermath.
Despite the girl's bleak reality, the full force of her situation did not hit her until a few days before the wedding, during her first dress fitting.
"Deep breath in."
The girl didn't know how she could possibly breathe in more. Her lungs were already at max capacity.
Maria Rambeau was a big name in the wedding business. She was a majestic sight to behold, with grey streaks in her stylishly short hair. In her prime, Maria dressed celebrities such as Amal Clooney and Elizabeth Taylor. The girl was supposed to be appreciative—excited, even, by her presence, but she could only manage a tight-lipped smile and muted enthusiasm, which she blamed on nerves before the big day. Maria Rambeau's team took over her entire room, hauling out long racks of white dresses of all styles and shapes.
The girl gave them free rein to put her in whatever they deemed fit. She had no energy left to be picky. Her mood immediately shifted when they put her in the first dress. She stiffened in front of the mirror, one foot on the raised podium and the other curling around the soft carpet.
She was wearing white. Unsure why that detail stuck out, it was all she could focus on. She tried on a second dress, indifferent to the heated discussion around her. More lace, less lace. A-line, satin, ball gown, taffeta. It all became a blur.
Fleur placed a gentle hand on the girl's elbow, which she barely felt, and helped her down the podium. They measured her once more, cinching her waist, asking her to stand straighter. Fleur caught the girl's blank look and offered a smile that went unreturned.
She walked up to the podium after trying on what felt like the thousandth dress of the day. The entire room fell silent, so she turned toward the mirror to see what was wrong.
She looked pretty. But, of course, she did. The girl had lost weight in the last couple of days due to all the stress, making her look frail. She was done up like a barbie doll, all prim and proper. With all signs of sleep concealed, an unnatural blush on her cheek, and elongated lashes, she no longer looked like herself. Money was prone to do that to a person.
Gone were the lines around her mouth whenever she smiled. Gone was the spark in her eyes that came with the feeling of being alive and free. She wasn't free, and she certainly did not feel alive.
The dress was pretty too. Long, flowy, tight, and big. It stuck to the girl like a second skin, letting her leg peek out, just barely teasing the apex of her thigh. She grabbed the strapless neckline and pulled. It was tight, with no chance of falling, though she could not help but fear it anyway.
Melancholy struck out of nowhere—Dove, with her infectious smile and bold ideas. She would laugh at the girl if she could see her now.
Maybe it was the wishful thinking of two young girls—two naïve girls—to want a wedding together. Dove was supposed to marry first—an impromptu wedding off the coast of an island city, on a stolen (read: borrowed) yacht. During the bouquet toss, Dove planned to hurl the flowers straight at her friend's face, and as a bridesmaid, the girl would have no choice but to honour the tradition; and marry.
A year later, the girl would marry somewhere "romantic" and "old" (like her soul, according to Dove). Their kids would grow to become friends, and the two would live as neighbours with their respective husbands by their sides.
Wishful thinking, as she mentioned before, of two naïve girls. It all seemed so impossible now. So unreal. Like a dream or a fleeting mirage.
When she was a little girl, her brother walked her down an imaginary aisle to marry her imaginary husband. She had long since grown out of that childish phase, yet still, even years later, the girl could not help the thread of longing that pulled at her heart from the idea.
She was in no hurry to admit to anyone that she had planned her wedding in between daydreams. Just her and her betrothed, under the night sky, mimicking the palace of mirrors that emperor Shah Jahan built for his beloved.
How foolish.
The crowd mistook the girl's quiet sniffles as a positive reaction, when in reality, she was dangerously teetering the edge of dissociation, half stuck in her dreams and half in her nightmares.
Rambeau, teetering the edge of seventy-six, took slow steps towards the girl and placed a veil over her head.
"Oh, goodness! You look gorgeous!" Maria exclaimed, clapping her hands like a child. The future Mrs. Barnes made the most beautiful bride.
The girl sniffed again and wiped a tear from under her eye. So, naturally, the entire room erupted in cheers of approval because what else could she be crying about, if not in happiness over her upcoming nuptials?
She was tired, achy, and sad, barely able to breathe in the dress. She wanted nothing more than to get out of the constricting fabric.
"This one," she demanded desperately, yearning for the torment to end. "I want this one!"
And as anticipated, no one complained. How could they? It was the perfect dress in their eyes, and she was the perfect bride.
"Oh!" exclaimed one of the designers. "It's a perfect fit too! We won't need to do much altering."
The girl couldn't breathe right, but she decided against saying anything. She just wanted the day to be over.
A knock sounded at the door, and Fleur, who had been a quiet and passive observer till then, ran to open it. She had her eyes trained on the floor throughout the entire ordeal, choosing to keep her opinions to herself. Perhaps it was because they weren't favourable to the majority of the room. No one wanted to hear that the fitting was a waste of time, that the bride didn't care much to walk down the aisle in a white dress, if at all.
"Mr. Burgundy? Come in," said Fleur. "Your daughter was just finishing up."
Danial Burgundy's presence filled the entire space, making it feel much smaller than it was. He nodded to the people occupying the room, then extended his hands towards Rambeau.
"I take it the fitting went well," Danial observed.
"Beautifully," replied Maria. "Don't know where you've been hiding her."
Danial shrugged. "Can never be too careful." His demeanour was casual, but the implication was anything but.
Maria seemed a smart woman and easily took the hint. "That is true. I always thought your wife was the most beautiful bride I ever dressed, but your daughter easily surpassed her."
The mention of her mother's wedding surprised the girl.
Danial nodded in acknowledgement. "Speaking of, I'd like a moment alone with her."
This was ridiculous. The room was starting to spin now, and it was becoming harder to breathe. The girl wanted out.
The room cleared as quickly as lightning. Maria's entire team was gone in seconds, leaving behind all their supplies. Fleur gave the girl a warning look before making her way out as well, shutting the door behind her.
"You look..." Danial began, unable to adequately put into words all that he was feeling.
"Different?" supplied the girl.
"Yes. But it's not your—"
"—My style," she finished for him. I know."
Danial nodded nervously. "Yes, well, you look good. Pretty. Beautiful."
The girl did not bother giving him a reply. Her mind was still stuck on her former life. Like a broken record, she found herself going back in time when things were different. And how cruel, wishing for something she could no longer have.
Four years of her life wasted, gone down the drain. What did her school think happened to her? She had a life in Vancouver, a job, friends, a routine—now she had nothing. Did anyone notice she was gone? Did Dove believe whatever lie she was fed about the girl's whereabouts? She would never find out. Just like she would never get to walk down the stage and receive her degree.
Though, the girl would be doing a similar thing tomorrow. She would walk down the aisle instead of a stage, would stand in front of a priest and her fiancé instead of the chancellor and the entirety of her graduating class. Instead of a degree and a new job, she would receive a kiss and a lifelong prison sentence.
"Your mother would have loved to see you like this. She always wanted you to get married," said Danial.
The girl blinked, briefly taken by surprise. "I assumed differently. I thought she'd be too busy having the time of her life in the Bahamas to even think about me."
Hurt flashed through her father's face so quickly she was sure she imagined it. "She'd still want to be there for the big day," he insisted.
"Okay," the girl said simply, not believing her father but wanting to end the conversation. She turned away, mindlessly eyeing her reflection in the mirror.
"I haven't given you a wedding present yet," Danial told her.
The girl scoffed. He was joking, surely. "I don't need a present," she replied blandly.
"There must be something," he teased, "that you want."
"I don't want to marry a monster," her heart screamed. "I want to be free." But those were unrealistic things to ask. Then a thought hit her. "I spent the past five years working toward my degree."
Her father stood behind her, towering over her frame in the reflection. "What are you asking?" he demanded sternly. Perhaps he knew her train of thought. They were, after all, much to her dismay, of the same blood.
"I'm asking for one day. To walk the stage, say goodbye to my old life." She straightened her shoulders, unwilling to back down this time. "I want to graduate. That is what I want for the wedding present."
"No." Not the most surprising response, but irritating nonetheless.
"It's only a day," she countered. "Twenty-four hours. That's all I'm asking."
Danial clenched his jaw and flexed his hands. "No," he declared.
His second refusal felt like a slap. Tears of resentment gathered in her eyes. "You're not being fair. I've done everything you asked."
"Life isn't fair," he retorted.
"Papa, please." The girl didn't mean to call him that. It just slipped out in her most vulnerable state.
The ice around Danial's heart began to melt. She had not called him that in almost ten years—since the decline of their relationship. To hear it after so long was like a punch to his gut. In his surprised state, Danial let his daughter's plea seep through his defences—he deserved it—and let himself soak in her pain and grief. White, hot guilt clawed up his spine, but he stomped it before it could take root.
"No," Danial said again, more decided in his answer than before. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room before the first tear could leave her eye and drop to the floor. Danial bid farewell to his old friend and sent her back in. Why couldn't she have asked for diamonds instead? He decided he needed a drink.
Back in the room, a crowd gathered once more. "Now," said one of the assistants, oblivious to the torment the girl was going through, "let's see what we can do about getting you some matching lingerie."
The girl smiled through the tears threatening to fall down her face. She supposed she would always be one of those who dream. And her dreams would have to be enough because whoever said that "dreams always come true" was a goddamn liar.
May 3rd, 2018
He woke with a shout. Cold seeped through his clothes and into his skin, making him shiver violently.
"Fuck!" he shouted, pulling the covers away from his body. He ran a hand over his eyes, wiping the water from his face. "What the fuck?"
Bucky glared up at Steve, who stood next to Bucky with a shit-eating grin. "Rise and shine, beautiful."
"Fuck you, Rogers," Bucky grumbled in defeat, letting himself fall back onto the mattress. "Was the ice water necessary?" he asked, annoyed.
"I called your name five times," Steve defended. "You shouldn't have gotten piss drunk if waking up in the morning was going to be a problem."
Bucky rolled his eyes, then rolled out of bed, discarding his wet shirt for a dry one. He immediately stumbled to the kitchen and dry swallowed a couple of ibuprofen, groaning when his head pounded in response. "Shit. My head."
"I did warn you. If you remember." Steve handed Bucky a glass of cold water, which he promptly gulped down. "Sometime before your ninth or tenth shot."
"Can a man not enjoy his bachelor party without getting shit in return?!" Bucky snapped irritably. Images from last night bombarded him, flashes of light and colour, sweaty skin against his own, and wandering hands over his muscles—A flash of blonde hair and red lips. His head pounded to the beat of the bass, mimicking whatever sound must have been playing at the club.
"Geez. You need to get laid." Steve laughed when Bucky shot him a glare. A lesser man would have cowered under that look, but Steve knew his friend would never hurt him. They shared a bond stronger than family.
"I would never," Bucky sternly reminded his friend. Despite all his flaws and shortcomings, the mafia man was proud to say he was a faithful lover. He would never disrespect his fiancé by cheating on her, even if he had yet to meet the girl.
"How long has it been since you..." Steve let his words trail off, but the question was obvious.
Bucky started a pot of coffee, taking out two mugs. "Too long," he scoffed, leaning back against the counter. He crossed his arms and glared at the ceiling. "Since that thing with Rollins a month ago."
Tensions had been high among the men since that day, and Bucky started spending more time in his office than in his bed. There was no time between all the chaos for Bucky to take a girl to bed. There was always someone that needed to be dealt with, always a problem that needed solving. Then, news of his engagement made local headlines. Bucky definitely couldn't take a girl to bed after that.
"Yeah," Steve murmured, "that whole thing was a shit show."
Bucky rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "Can't wait till that bastard is rotting six feet under." He reached behind him and poured the finished coffee for himself and Steve.
Steve grabbed the small jar of sugar from the counter, then reached for a spoon. Bucky was quick. He slammed the half-open drawer shut and plucked a clean spoon from the sink. Steve almost saw the device he hid there. Bucky would need to be more careful.
"Take this instead," he offered. Bucky didn't bother with an explanation. Nothing he could say would convince Steve.
Steve paused a beat before relenting. He knew his friend was hiding something; he also knew he would find out sooner than later what it was.
"Milk?" Bucky asked though he knew the answer.
"Just a little." Steve made his coffee just how he liked it and set it on the table. "Hey, at least you'll be getting some tonight." And they had moved on.
"Tonight?" Bucky questioned, taking a sip of his Italian Roast. Black, just the way he liked it. Then it hit him. Yeah, he was definitely getting some. He chuckled and shook his head. "Doubt she'll let me try anything the second we meet. I'll probably have to wait for the honeymoon."
"Yeah?" Steve smirked. "When's that?"
"The sixth. It's a Sunday. Three days after the reception." Yes, it was quick and hasty, but Danial Burgundy insisted, and his own father was no help. "Just hurry up and pop out a couple of children, why don't you?" Danial Burgundy and the older Barnes had laughed, but Bucky didn't find the idea as amusing. While he respected Danial, he was in no position to tell Bucky what to do.
Bucky ran a hand over his face and scoffed. "The fucking reception. Don't know how I'll survive it." The last thing he wanted was to be paraded around his father's friends like some zoo animal.
You only get married once, Buck. "You could try to look forward to it," Steve reprimanded. Between the two friends, he was mostly the more level-headed one.
"I am looking forward to it," Bucky smirked, wiggling his brows for effect. "A lot."
Steve frowned as if Bucky had personally offended him. "I'm not talking about the honeymoon, punk. Have some respect for the missus."
Bucky only smiled wider. "You haven't seen her yet, have you?"
"No, but you haven't either," Steve pointed out.
Bucky just shrugged with a smug grin as if he knew something Steve didn't.
"No." Steve's eyes widened. "You fucker. When?"
Bucky mimicked zipping his lips shut. "A magician never reveals his secrets."
"Fuck that. I thought your dad forbade you."
Bucky shrugged again.
"When?" Steve demanded.
"Exactly a week ago. I had some business with Danial, and I just happened to see little Burgundy walk out of his office in a tiny two-piece."
"Well, shit!"
Bucky smirked wider. He pushed off the wall he was leaning against and went to his room to grab the black manilla folder containing his fiancé's information.
He returned to find Steve sitting in the breakfast nook, polishing an apple against his shirt. "Here." Bucky tossed the manilla toward his friend, who promptly flicked through it.
"Woah!" Steve's eyes grew wide. "She's pretty."
"She's fucking gorgeous," Bucky smugly agreed.
"Can't believe she's a Burgundy," Steve expressed, eyes flicking over the girl's picture.
Bucky hummed in agreement. There she was, Bucky's fiancé, his wife-to-be, wearing a sensible pair of pants with a loosely fitted henley. Nothing special. It was her smile, all soft and inviting, that made her irresistible. He desperately wanted the girl's attention directed at him instead of the nondescript book in her hand. Bucky wanted to see her smile in the sunlight instead of through a thin piece of paper; he wanted a taste to see if she was as sweet as she looked. He wanted her swollen lips wrapped around his—
"She's got nice eyes."
Bucky scratched the back of his neck. He really needed to get laid. "Uh, yeah, she does. By the way, what would Sharon say about you admiring my girl?" Bucky teased.
Steve went deathly still before the corners of his mouth lifted in an arrogant smirk. "You wouldn't fucking dare, asshole. I'd cut your tongue out."
Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. "You get real fucking scary when it comes to your wife."
Steve merely smiled.
The shrill ringing of Bucky's phone interrupted the candid moment between the two friends. Bucky only briefly glanced at the caller ID before his smile dropped and his expression hardened.
"This is Barnes," he answered gruffly.
Even Steve Rogers straightened his shoulders at Bucky's tone. It was bewildering how quickly Bucky could go from a carefree young man to a hardened crime boss.
"Who?" Bucky seethed in response to the person on the other line. "Motherfucker!" He slammed the table with his palm and swallowed thickly, attempting to control his reaction. "When?"
Bucky swore again at the answer. "If you let him out of your fucking sight for even a second, Razor, I'll gut you and feed you to the fish. Understood?" he snapped, ending the call once Razor voiced agreement.
"What happened?" Steve broke the silence after a brief moment of pause. He knew the call meant nothing good but wanted to hear it himself.
"I have to go," Bucky offered as a response. He took long strides towards his room, hastily changing out of his nightclothes and into a clean suit. Bucky didn't bother with a tie. He would have to take it off anyway.
He retrieved his Colt 1911 from his dresser, along with his rings. The Colt belonged to his father, who gave it to Bucky on his eighteenth birthday. And the ring...? There was something to be said about the surprise on his enemy's face when a mediocre punch opened their skin, letting blood flow everywhere—Not that Bucky ever threw mediocre punches. After all, he was trained in martial arts from a young age.
Steve walked in when Bucky was tucking his gun in the waistband of his trousers. "What happened?" he asked once more.
"Rollins happened."
"Good or bad?"
"Both," Bucky replied. "Three of my men are dead."
"Okay," Steve raised an eyebrow. "That's bad."
"We have the guy who did it," Bucky finished.
"Rollins?"
Bucky shook his head. "One of his rat bastards."
"That's still good, right?" Steve asked, confused why Bucky was so upset about the win.
Bucky's voice lowered in a mix of empathy and regret. "Phil's gone."
Steve plopped himself down onto Bucky's bed. "How?"
"Knife through the chest."
Steve clutched his hair with white knuckles and groaned lowly. "Those fuckers."
Ever since the two mobsters met Phil four years ago, he became a brother to them. And while he worked for the Barnes Mafia, he was also loyal to the Rogers'.
Steve composed himself and stood on shaky legs. "I'm coming with you," he announced, determined in his efforts.
"No, you're not," Bucky scoffed, putting on a pair of loafers.
"You can't stop me," Steve warned. "I won't let those bastards get away with this!"
"And you think I will?" Bucky suddenly exploded, losing the last of his temper. He was just as upset as Steve over their friend's death. Bucky grabbed Steve by the shoulders and pulled him close. "I'll make every last one of them pay. I swear to you, Stevie, those motherfuckers will get what they deserve. But I need you here."
Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Bucky interrupted him.
"Someone needs to plan the funeral. Phil deserves a proper goodbye."
Steve let his shoulders slump in defeat. He knew Bucky was right, yet he tried to convince him again. "You've got a wedding to attend in a few hours."
Bucky playfully shoved his friend away. "And who can guarantee the groom is punctual, if not the best man?"
"Yeah," Steve finally relaxed, though Phil's death was still fresh on his mind. An unfortunate consequence of their lifestyle. "You know I've got your back, punk."
"Asshole," Bucky returned without hesitation.
"Pussy."
"Bitch."
"Son of a bitch."
"Hey!" Bucky exploded, wagging an accusatory finger. "Don't bring my ma into this."
"Speaking of your ma," Steve continued smoothly, "she is going to be pissed as fuck if you get blood in your nails."
Bucky shrugged, grabbing his keys from the dresser. "I won't. I promise. I've got men for that."
There was blood everywhere, not that he could be bothered by it. One look at the man tied to the chair in front of him made Bucky forget his promise to Steve. His hands were bloodied in seconds.
Razor left a while ago, opting to give his boss some privacy. Since then, the dark basement had been filled with small whimpers and muffled screams. Bucky was unsatisfied. He swung his arm in a swift right hook and laughed when he received only a minuscule groan as a reaction. "You're no fun," Bucky teased. He reached for his gun, smiling as the man struggled against his restraints. "Scared?" Bucky mocked. "You shouldn't be."
Bucky placed his gun on the small table to his left, waiting for the man to relax before bending down and retrieving a knife from his ankle. It was long and slender—sturdy in his hands, and perfect for carving.
"I hear you like knives." Bucky smirked at the look of horror that crossed the man's face. "I don't see the appeal, personally. There're guns, swift and clean—kind of loud, but they don't leave a huge mess. You want to be discreet? Poison works wonders. You don't know you're dying until you're dead. But knives? They just seem excessively messy."
The man in the chair stiffened.
"I wonder what all the fuss is about," Bucky mused, running a finger along the sharp blade. He sucked his bottom lip in contemplation, releasing it with a pop. "Why don't I find out?" And Bucky brought the weapon down on the man's leg, smiling when the scream he was looking for finally reached his ears.
He quickly retrieved the blade, slamming it into its new home in the man's other leg. There was nothing to be done about the blood. Bucky would no doubt receive a swift tongue lashing from his mother about it, but he could still fulfill his other promise to Steve.
Bucky would make every last one of them pay, starting with the rat bastard in front of him.
May 3rd, 2018
She woke to the sweet smell of maple. A smile immediately graced her sleepy face, and she stretched her arms above her head, contorting her body to eliminate any aches or soreness from the night before. A joint cracked, maybe two, and she sighed in relief.
The girl could smell maple and... cinnamon, was it? The aroma permeated the room, making her sink deeper into the soft mattress. Indistinctly, a soft melodic voice reached her ears.
"What language is that?" she wondered.
Fleur almost dropped the tray of food she was holding. Her wide eyes narrowed in a faux glare. "You scared me."
"It's not french," the girl observed. She tried to remember the words in her dazed state. "Sounds slavic.ˈDrage wo t͡sto ˈmisliɫəm? Sokovian, maybe."
Fleur placed the tray on the edge of the bed with unnecessary force. "It was nothing. Here."
The girl let out a small yawn and raised herself on her elbows. "It sounded beautiful." She gave Fleur her version of what she hoped was a genuine smile. "I had a Sokovian friend in school."
"You talk too much," Fleur chastised. "Eat."
"Wait!" The girl urgently grabbed Fleur to stop her from leaving. "Eat with me."
"No." Fleur pulled her arm away. "I have a lot to do. I have to pack a bag for you, and—"
"Please? I don't want anything to go to waste." Her eyes were wild with need, and Fleur must have seen the despair swirling behind the girl's bright irises because she relented.
The two sat side by side and drank from the same cup of hot chocolate. The girl ate a piece of fruit and soaked some of the bread in the hot chocolate, at which Fleur raised a perfectly arched brow.
"Your hair looks almost red in the sun."
Fleur touched her head. "No, it doesn't," she replied fiercely. "It's blonde. Have you ever seen a red-haired french person before?"
"Izgleda da ne." I guess not, the girl murmured in Sokovian.
"You have an affinity for languages or something?" Fleur asked casually.
"Or something," the girl answered. "I mentioned my friend. I learned french from him, some Sokovian too. Also, I wanted to travel the world for Investigative Journalism. It made sense to learn more languages." She shrugged a shoulder. "What a waste."
"Not completely. You could continue after your marriage."
"Not likely."
The two ate in relative silence, taking much longer than needed to finish a simple meal, and bartered meaninglessly until the last crumb was wiped clean. And even then did not move, satisfied for a time with being in each other's company.
May 3rd, 2018
She thought she knew privilege—had seen the dirty reality of it beneath the many layers—but she was merely ignorant of its candidness. The wealth she found herself surrounded by was incomparable to the previous advantages granted to her for being a Burgundy.
The girl stumbled upon exiting the private elevator, surprised to find herself in a foyer. Then she noticed the view, and her legs almost gave out. She should have expected this would be no ordinary hotel—but perhaps her expectations were askew if she presumed to find herself in a small one-bedroom, much like what she lived in when she left home.
The girl looked down and saw her reflection staring back at her in the marble. The place was so big she was worried she would get lost. The attendant's voice went through one ear and out the other. The girl only managed to catch a few details. Two floors, five-bed, six-bath, a lounge and a private terrace, among other things. She wondered how much it cost.
She must have voiced her previous thought because the attendant smiled brightly. "Seventy-five per night."
She gasped in surprise. "Seventy-five hundred?" She couldn't imagine anyone spending that much money on a single hotel room.
The attendant frowned, clearly offended. "No. It's seventy-five thousand per night. Your fiancé booked the penthouse for three nights; the entire hotel for two."
The girl choked on air. She knew James Barnes was wealthy, but she never imagined this. "The entire hotel?" Exactly how many people were coming to the wedding?
"Yes, ma'am. Your entire wedding party is staying with us. And your bridesmaids will stay at the penthouse while you are on your honeymoon."
The girl felt sick. Positively and irrevocably. First, the shock of finding out how wealthy her fiancé was, then to hear him referred to as hers. Her fiancé. Her wedding. Her bridesmaids. Her honeymoon.
"I assumed Mr. Barnes would have told you," the attendant continued, mildly concealed suspicion lacing her voice.
Vaguely, the girl was aware a question had been asked and that she should answer said question, but a sudden dizziness overtook her. She stared at a small smudge on the mirror to her left—a lone imperfection amongst an otherwise spotless surface—and focused on breathing through her nose and out of her mouth.
Fleur placed a cold hand on the girl's back when she remained unresponsive. "Miss Burgundy?"
The girl blinked and refocused her attention. "I'm alright," she said. "Just a bit dizzy. I think I should sit down."
The attendant's eyes instinctively trailed down the girl's abdomen. "Would you like some water... or some champagne, perhaps?"
"Neither," the girl replied with a forced smile. "Thank you for the tour, but I'll rest for a bit.." The tour was nowhere near finished; it had hardly begun, but the dismissal was palpable.
"Of course," the attendant said with a polite nod. "I hope you enjoy your stay and feel better before your wedding." She stared at the girl's stomach as she left the room, almost bumping into the two guards at the door.
"Is that the bride?"
A large group of girls immediately bombarded her when she entered the main lounge. They wore identical robes, with the hotel logo embroidered on the sleeves, and sipped on flutes of champagne; her bridesmaids.
It quickly became clear there were two kinds of girls in the room. The first kind surrounded her with overly fake smiles and gave her compliments they didn't mean.
"Oh! Where did you get those shoes? They're so cute," said a tall redhead. They were second-hand from a thrift shop and were not cute.
The second kind, scattered varyingly across the space, visually sized her up. Their judgemental eyes scanned the girl head to toe, taking in her frayed jeans and scuffed shoes. Her messy hair, dry lips, and red eyes. Their stares lingered on her chest and bottom—on her waist—as if she were merely an object for them to criticize. It was clear they saw nothing of interest when they quickly dismissed her and continued their hushed conversations.
Two blondes of the second kind made their way over to the girl, pulling her down to sit with them. She shook their offered hands, hoping they couldn't feel the sweat lining her palms.
"You are one lucky bitch to be marrying James Barnes," said a bottle blonde with overly filled lips painted a bright pink. She stunk of Chanel. "I didn't know he had a girlfriend until I got the wedding invite."
Heat rose to the girl's face. She gave the two a rehearsed answer. "Oh. We didn't want the relationship to be public. James likes his privacy."
The taller blonde thrust a flute of champagne into the girl's hand before sipping on her own. She was perfectly tall, with legs that went on for days. Green eyes framed with long lashes. She lightly ran the pad of her thumb along a bright red lip. "Bucky does like his privacy, doesn't he?" she mused. "I would know," she shrugged a delicate shoulder, "from experience."
"Bucky?" the girl questioned.
"James. His close friends call him Bucky."
"Oh..." That felt like something she should have known. "Right. Of course," she laughed nervously. "Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night."
The blonde hummed in consideration. "Yes, I can see that."
The girl blinked. Someone behind her snickered.
"Oh, what was your name?" the blonde continued. "It completely slipped my mind."
The girl took a large sip of her drink before answering.
"How cute. My name's Dorothy." She reached over to bop the girl's nose. "You can call me Dot. Everyone does. This is Chanel."
The girl gave Dot a shaky smile. "It's nice to meet you, Dot." It wasn't. It really wasn't. She then turned to Chanel, praying she could keep a straight face. "And you."
"I'm surprised you didn't have a bachelor party," said Chanel. "Bucky sure went all out."
"Yes," Dot agreed. "Why didn't you?"
The girl stuttered around a response. "James—I don't—I didn't feel like it."
"Well, he missed you."
"Who did?" The girl asked incredulously.
"Bucky, who else?" Dot raised a brow. "I had to stay with him all night to make sure he wouldn't call or try to see you." She twirled a strand of hair with her finger. "It's bad luck to see each other before the wedding."
The girl didn't know what to say, so she settled for something generic. "Oh. I missed him too." It seemed her betrothed held no similar qualms about the marriage if he felt happy enough to party.
"Show us the ring!" Chanel suddenly demanded.
The bride-to-be presented her left hand to the room, prompting the ladies to huddle closer. "How cute." Dot turned to Chanel. "Isn't it just like the one James gave me on my birthday?"
Chanel nodded eagerly. "Except yours is bigger, I think."
Dot hummed in agreement. "Heavier too. Oh, but yours is so much cuter! Suits your personality perfectly."
What would this stranger know about her personality? The girl wondered if this was how mundane people made friends—sizing the competition with backhanded compliments to see who broke first. She glanced around the room. No one here was normal, least of all her.
"Thank you." She wanted to cry.
"So, Mrs. Barnes, do tell us. How did you and James meet?" someone asked.
"She's not Mrs. Barnes yet, dear," Dot quickly corrected, managing to sound both sarcastic and snobbish.
The girl laughed uncomfortably, plastering the biggest smile she could muster. "No, I still have a few hours before that happens.
Dot hummed. "Regardless, I would love to know the story. Bucky has been so uncharacteristically tight-lipped about you. He usually tells me everything."
Panic took over, and the girl looked at Fleur for guidance—They hadn't practiced this—only to find Fleur glaring somewhat discreetly at Dot. "We, uh—Our families knew each other!" the girl hastily answered. "There was a dinner. One thing led to another, and here we are—"
"Excuse me, do I know you?"
Confused, the girl froze at Dot's jarring question, only to find the blonde's attention on her maid.
Fleur schooled her expression into a passive one. "I doubt it, miss." Her accent was more pronounced than ever, surprising the girl who thought Fleur was improving.
Dot narrowed her eyes, briefly dropping her jolly and quick-witted persona. "No, I've definitely seen you before."
"Fleur's been working for my father for a while," the girl supplied. "Maybe you—"
"Have you visited the Burgundy estate lately, Miss Dorothy? I believe Mr. Burgundy invited your father for a friendly game of blackjack last month. Perhaps you tagged along?"
"I don't recall," Dot sneered.
The girl watched in confusion as the atmosphere changed.
"Oh!" Fleur covered her gasp with both hands. "How thoughtless of me. Mr. Allen couldn't have possibly visited when he was in prison for—"
"Stop right there!" Dot hissed, and though her voice was soft, the warning was sharp. However, the damage was done, and the room exploded with gasps of shock.
Even the girl couldn't hide her surprise at Fleur's abrupt change in behaviour, then at the company.
"When did your father go to jail, Dorothy? Why am I just hearing about this?"
Fleur quietly excused herself during the chaos.
"It was a misunderstanding," Dot explained, swiftly slipping into a calm disposition. "The matter resolved itself in a day." She turned her sharp eyes toward the girl, who straightened at the attention. Dot sighed, letting her shoulders droop. "Your mother was a great help to mine. How sad she couldn't be here today."
The room fell silent. The girl wasn't aware their mothers knew each other. What excuse was she supposed to give? She decided to go for the truth. "Yes, it is," she agreed with a sad smile.
Dot narrowed her eyes. She seemed displeased. "You're a strong person. I would burst into tears if I were in your position, God forbid."
"Yes, well, what can we do? Life goes on." The ladies began to chat among themselves as the previous tension slowly dissipated.
Dot's concealed scoff did not miss the girl's ears. "How optimistic of you."
The girl jumped at the lull in conversation after a moment. "I think I should change," she announced, stretching her legs. "And maybe take a shower." No one seemed to pay her any attention. "Right. I guess I'll be going then."
The girl turned to leave, but Dot stopped her with her arm. "Before you go, I just wanted to tell you how nice it is to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too." It wasn't. It really wasn't, but the girl could help but be polite.
"We'll be seeing a lot of each other now," Dot said in a honeyed voice. "I can't wait for you to be part of the family."
Part of the family? What? "I'm sorry, but how do you know James?"
Dot put a hand over her chest. "How do I know him? You mean he hasn't told you about me?"
"No, he hasn't." The girl swallowed nervously. "Are you his sister?"
Dot threw her head back and laughed. "Am I his—Oh! I'm going to have a word with him after this. I can't believe he hasn't told you."
The girl couldn't help but feel like the butt end of a joke, with no choice but to play along. "Hasn't told me what?"
Dot stepped towards the girl and bit her lip as she leaned forward. "Me and James... well, let's just say we're very good friends."
"Oh." Dot's underlying meaning was clear.
What else could she say? Everyone held an advantage over her. They grew up surrounded by the mafia while she left. They knew all the particular goings-on of the organization, and she didn't. And now this gorgeous blonde was passive-aggressively staking some type of claim over James Barnes. Who she affectionately called Bucky.
"Okay."
Dot curled her lips into a smile as if to say, "checkmate," and took the girl's hand in a tight grip. "Again, welcome to the family, dear. You have no idea how excited I am."
It started slowly, a tingle in her spine, crawling up her shoulders and towards her neck. The feeling of someone watching her. She surveyed her surroundings, once, then twice, then seemingly happy with the absence of another soul, turned back towards the pool.
It had taken just one look at the girl's tear-ridden face for Fleur to deduce what was wrong.
"They're jealous." Fleur was wearing a neat braid. Her roots were a reddish blonde.
"Jealous?" the girl had scoffed, forgetting about her friend's unusual hair colour.
"Your husband is quite popular, especially among the younger ladies."
"He's not my husband," she snapped in frustration.
"Apologies." Though Fleur did not sound apologetic at all. "They're not happy you're marrying him."
"Least of all me! How am I supposed to convince everyone of this marriage, Fleur? I know nothing about him. I don't even know what he looks like!"
"Mr. Burgundy didn't let you two meet?"
"James Barnes is a busy man. He has an entire city to run." The girl repeated what her father told her, then aggressively shook her head. "I refused a picture. I don't think I could have survived the week if my nightmares had a face."
"All that from a single photograph? I hear he's a handsome man."
"The eyes are the windows to the soul, aren't they? After my brother died, my father changed and became cruel. His eyes used to be full of life, but they turned dull." The girl looked down at the floor, remembering how strict and uncaring her father became after losing his child.
Fleur thought for a moment. "I know you don't feel it, chérie, but you hold a lot of power."
The girl wanted to cry. "I don't feel powerful." She felt weak and helpless.
Fleur grabbed her hand. "Behind every successful man is a woman. Remember this. I helped my husband expand his practice. Without me, he never would've gotten to where he is."
The girl couldn't help the pity she felt. "And yet he still—"
"Yes, I got too comfortable. Never let your guard down, or the next thing you know—"
God, was that what would happen to her? Would she be swept away under all the lies and betrayals that seemed to follow the mafia everywhere?
Fleur seemed to be able to read the girl's mind. "I will not let that happen to you!" she promised passionately. "You are lucky the wedding is so public. Your husband will not risk losing you." She paused. "Or hurting you."
The girl deeply exhaled. The severity of her situation was voiced for the first time, leaving a weight on her shoulders.
"How can I help?" Fleur asked softly.
"I want to swim." The girl didn't bother correcting herself. "Alone."
It hadn't taken Fleur long to orchestrate the entire thing. A thinly veiled threat to the guards posted outside—something along the lines of castration—and the girl found herself in an empty natatorium.
The girl didn't know how to swim, though she didn't need to. She only needed to submerge herself long enough to forget what she had to do in a few hours.
Vow her life away to a monster. James Barnes.
She took the steps one at a time, becoming comfortable as the cool water slowly obscured her bikini-clad body. The pool was not too deep where she stood, only reaching her elbows, so she walked farther until it reached her chin.
The girl closed her eyes. A deep breath in, out, and another in before she bent her legs and lowered her body.
The effect was immediate. The world quieted down to silence, took all the girl's worries and anxieties, all past, present, and future troubles and dispersed them across the water's surface to be collected once she emerged.
The girl didn't want them back. She didn't want to live in constant fear, always wondering when the next shoe would drop. If she straightened her knees and took her head out of the water to breathe, she would need to wear her wedding dress, walk down the aisle, and marry a monster. However, if she stayed, with her legs bent and floating aimlessly—with her breath stuck in her lungs and her body pliant in the water, she would be free of all her troubles.
Her eyes slowly fluttered open. She saw the ceiling above her through a distorted lens, her hands and legs floating aimlessly around her. Air bubbles left her nose and breached the surface, which seemed to move farther and farther away as time passed. Her hair created a beautiful halo around her head, and she sighed, expelling the last of air from her lungs.
As she let herself float away, deeper and deeper into the calm abyss, she thought, with sudden clarity, that she would love to spend the rest of her days here. No thoughts or feelings, only a calm that she could not reach any other way. A place where she was everything and nothing, all at the same time.
The girl shut her eyes, letting the comforting pressure of water surround her from all sides. Yes, she would love to spend the rest of her days here.
The effect was immediate. The world boomed with noise, took all the girl's worries and anxieties, all past, present, and future troubles and accumulated them across the water, which was then promptly collected the second she emerged.
The girl gasped, sputtered, and choked. It felt as if the arm around her abdomen had picked her up and slammed her onto concrete. The loss made her cry. She sobbed as she attempted to loosen the arms around her, to dive back into the serene calmness she was just feeling mere moments ago.
"No!" she cried out. "Let me go!"
The arm tightened painfully. "What the hell?"
The girl froze. She recognized that voice. She turned so abruptly her hair whipped the man across his face, making him flinch.
"Peter?"
"You were gonna drown!" Peter berated her. "Do you want to die?" He wore a dress shirt and dark grey slacks, the fanciest the girl had seen him in.
"No. I don't want to die. I just..." The girl moved a strand of wet hair from his eyes. "What are you doing here?"
Peter ignored her question and carried her out of the pool, setting her carefully on a lounge chair nearby. "What the fuck were you thinking?" he asked forcefully.
The girl suddenly felt very exposed to the cool air. She grabbed a nearby towel to cover her nakedness. "I wasn't," she replied. "I wasn't thinking."
"That doesn't sound like you," he observed, sitting beside her.
"Why are you here?" she asked once more.
Peter sighed and ran his hands over his face, wiping the excess water. He would have to change his clothes and find new shoes. The leather was sure to be damaged beyond repair.
"I heard some guys in the lobby talking about how the bride was taking a swim. I came in to say hi, and almost witnessed you kill yourself."
The girl wasn't trying to kill herself, though she decided not to correct him. "What are you doing in New York?" she clarified. "In this hotel?"
Peter scoffed, leaning forward to grab his dry suit jacket. "Did you hit your stupid head while you were down there?" He shoved a thick envelope toward her. "You invited me."
In her hands was a wedding invite. Gold and pink lines on matte black card stock. "The Barnes and Burgundy family cordially invite you to witness the holy matrimony of James Buchanan Barnes and—" In her hands was her wedding invite.
Dread settled low in the girl's stomach. The last she'd seen Peter, Campus security was escorting him out of the DKE party. That was also the last time she saw Dove. The girl wanted to ask about her friend. Was she okay? Was she eating well? How upset was she when the girl left without a goodbye?
"You need to leave," she declared.
"Oh, uh, okay." Peter rose to grab his discarded jacket and the wedding invite. "I'm in room 315. I'll see you at the church, yeah?"
"No. You need to leave the city." The girl rose to her feet as panic began to take over. "Now!" she exploded when he didn't move fast enough for her liking.
"Jesus!" Peter did not let the girl push him toward the exit. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "What are you talking about?"
She was hysterical, trying her best to keep her tears at bay, a complete one-eighty compared to a moment ago. "It's dangerous for you to be here. Catch the first flight back to Vancouver and go home!"
But Peter wouldn't listen. He wrapped the slipping towel tighter around the girl's shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Is this those wedding jitters I've heard about? because you're not making any sense. My life isn't in danger."
His calm and placating voice annoyed her. As always, Peter thought he knew better when he didn't. Her father obviously invited him here as a power move to show her his control over her life. One wrong move and Peter would suffer the consequences, along with Dove.
She pushed his hand away and grabbed his wet shirt. "You don't understand. You need to go to Dove. How was she when you left her? Is she hurt?"
Peter frowned. "Dove's alright. She misses you 'cause you left out of nowhere, but she's actually he—Wait. Why would she be hurt?"
The girl let out the breath she had been holding. "So, she's fine?"
Peter grabbed her wrists to loosen her hold on him, which was becoming tighter. "Yeah, What the hell? What aren't you telling me, Kitty? Why would Dove be hurt?"
The girl's face contorted in sorrow. She contemplated coming clean to her friend, telling him everything that had transpired since that fateful night in Vancouver. "Peter," she sighed, slowly losing her resolve. Perhaps he would listen if he knew what was at stake. "My father is—"
"I must say," a loud voice interrupted the two, "when my men told me my daughter went for a swim, I was surprised. Especially considering I didn't know you could swim."
Both of them froze. Peter tensed his shoulders and sighed deeply, letting his eyes close. "Kitty."
"Run," she whispered pleadingly. "There's still time."
"I'm sorry." Guilt swirled in Peter's eyes when opened them. He looked dejected.
The girl snatched her wrists from his hold. "It's okay. Just let me do the talking."
Peter shook his head. "Not about that." And he took a step toward her father.
What? she wanted to ask, but the question answered itself.
"Thank you for keeping an eye on her, Pietro. She clearly can't be left alone." Danial let his gaze wander all over Peter's wet clothes.
"Pietro?" the girl found herself wondering aloud.
Her father looked confused for a moment before bursting into laughter. He wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulder as if they were friends. "I forgot. You might know him as Peter, your schoolmate."
The girl turned to her friend, waiting for him to deny it.
Peter bowed his head, unwilling to meet her gaze. "Pietro Maximoff, Miss. At your service."
"No," the girl denied. "There must be some misunderstanding."
"There isn't," Peter—no, Pietro answered. "It's nice to meet you formally."
Her father seemed pleased. "Good job, Pietro. You can go. I'll call you if I need anything."
Pietro left without sparing her a glance.
It was like the entire world slowed. Voices muted, and a ringing overtook all her senses.
"You best be on your way," her father said.
"Why?"
He felt far away when he spoke. "You have a wedding to attend. That's why."
He misunderstood. "Why him?"
In the past week, the girl's world had flipped so many times she couldn't tell up from down anymore. Fear and anxiety were her best friend during this troubling time, and she thought nothing could surprise her. She was wrong.
She remembered meeting Peter—Pietro—for the first time. He was adamant about being her friend, waiting outside her classes with a coffee one day and iced tea another. The girl always figured he was friendly because she was Dove's best friend. She never suspected any foul play.
A horrible thought struck her. How would Dove react once she knew the man she loved deceived her? Another thought. Did she already know? A double deception was sure to kill the girl.
Did the girl's father control everything in her life? Had he known this entire time what she was doing? He must have. Pietro would have told him everything. He would have indulged her father with her most intimate thoughts and feelings. That betrayal somehow felt much worse than Pietro lying about who he was.
That is when the numbness started. The girl was tired. Tired of feeling, hoping for a reprieve, and constantly being let down. Tired of fearing for her friend's life.
When her father gestured for two of his men to grab the girl, she did not react or fight back. She only tightened the small towel around her shoulders. They dragged her out with ease, following her father, stopping when he stopped, moving when he moved.
When she passed the concierge, the staff averted their eyes, unwilling to even risk looking in her direction. Still, the girl felt a pair of eyes follow her. She turned her head only to find a man staring at her.
There was a prominent frown on his face as he ran his gaze over her exposed legs and up her torso. While the girl usually felt repulsed while being leered at by random men, the stranger's eyes did not make her uncomfortable. Something about him felt oddly familiar. He was beautiful, with soft hair cut short on the sides, and was wearing a dress shirt with slacks, similar to Pietro's. His eyes were a startling azure.
Try as she might, the girl couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen the man before. Despite the distance between them, she noticed a muscle in his jaw tick in annoyance upon seeing her face.
He parted his pink lips then, to say something, though she didn't hear what. Her father frustratedly rubbed his eyes and replied to the man, walking over to greet him. The two shook hands, and Danial gestured for the guards to take her away.
The girl stayed passive the entire time, only pulling the towel over her chest to try and erase the stranger's stare from her body. They dragged her across the lobby and towards the elevators. There was no stopping it now. A wedding awaited her.
Her bridesmaids' chatter quieted to a dull throb, deadening completely the longer the girl ignored them. They were snacking on fruit and sipping champagne while a photographer captured the exaggerated moment. Smiles too big and poses too disingenuous.
In comparison, the girl sat blank-faced. No smile. No disingenuous pose. No falsities or pretenses. One couldn't tell her dress was a few sizes too small, preventing her from breathing. Or that underneath the layers of concealer, her eyes were dark enough to be mistaken for bruises, and her elaborately made hair housed the beginning of what was turning out to be a massive headache.
Yes, it was odd that the bride-to-be was not trembling with excitement, but that could be a consequence of nerves. Her lack of response, however, was starting to become concerning.
"What do you think?" the hairdresser asked for the third time. He finished the final touches. A brooch here, a sprinkle of glitter there.
The girl barely glanced at her reflection. "It's nice," she murmured, then tuned out the rest of the conversation.
A young woman refreshed the colour on her lips with a small brush before blotting it with a tissue. "I've never had such an obedient bride before," she laughed. "You're as still as a mannequin."
The girl gave no reaction. She briefly heard the pair acknowledge her inattentiveness, speculating in hushed whispers why she wasn't happier. She felt disinclined to indulge them.
She was tired.
She didn't know when, but the room cleared out, and still, she was sitting in front of the vanity, staring at a fixed spot in the mirror.
From her peripheral, the girl saw her father enter behind her. Danial was dressed in his most expensive suit and held a folder in his right hand, which he placed on the vanity. Still, she sat unmoving.
"Everyone is already on their way to the church," he told her. "I sent Fleur with your bridesmaids." He paused, waiting for his daughter to say something, but she didn't. Danial cleared his throat. "I wanted to give you your wedding present right now. I know there's time set apart for later, but I thought you'd appreciate doing this privately."
At this, the girl did react. She found her father's eyes in the mirror and looked down at the folder in question.
"Open it," Danial urged. And so she did.
The girl took in the contents of the folder passively, emotionlessly. I, Danial Burgundy, being of sound mind and body, do hereby declare the following—
"I suppose congratulations are in order." Danial placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "You will become the new and sole owner of the Burgundy estate once the marriage is finalized."
Now, this did get a reaction from the girl. She shot up from her seat, making Danial's hand fall to his side. "You're trying to buy my silence? You think this will erase what you're making me do?" The girl made her way to the door, holding the will in a white-knuckled grip. She couldn't sit there and be reminded of how badly she lost.
"I told you before," Danial's voice reverberated through the room, "and I'll tell you again. This will all make sense soon, then you'll thank me. There's a reason I'm doing this. A good reason."
The girl looked at her father, at his determined face and stiff posture. No, she decided, there can be no justifiable reason for what he is doing. Nothing she could ever understand or forgive.
"We're late, Father," the girl said; and with that, she turned around and left. There was a wedding to attend.
Note: Thoughts? How are we feeling so far?
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Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes au#mafia!bucky#mafia!bucky x reader#mafia!bucky x innocent!reader#mafia au#marvel#meant to be series#mywriting#forced marriage#arranged marriage
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When I pick up the phone and actress Rebecca Ferguson greets me with a cheery “hello,” she sounds completely at ease. She doesn’t sound at all like a woman who’s been flying across the world to promote her new blockbuster film, Dune: Part Two, all the while spending six days a week shooting the second season of her critically-acclaimed Apple TV+ dystopian drama, Silo. Of course, I realize not too long into our conversation that this is in part because Ferguson is quite amiable. I also learn that there's also a small part of her that chooses to embrace the chaos.
While discussing her look for the final Dune: Part Two premiere in New York, she recounts the story of when she arrived in the Big Apple, much of the outfit was thrown together last minute. While talking about her hair (courtesy of hairstylist Blake Eric) Ferguson says, “We were running late, so he was running after me with the scissors whilst clapping and chopping into it. I love all of the chaos.”
It’s hard to imagine this comically haphazard image when you take a look at the killer result. For the red carpet, Ferguson and her stylist, Tom Eerebout, chose a gothic ensemble from Olivier Theyskens that featured a black bodysuit layered under a sheer cape gown with alternating panels of frilly lace and fishnets. Ferguson accessorized with a pair of glossy black thigh-high boots and stacks of dog chains, which her husband, Rory St. Clair Gainer, actually picked up at a local pet store. Meanwhile, her ombré locks, which extended all the way to her hips, added a dramatic final touch, as did her bright red lip and dark eye makeup. The ensemble screamed ’80s dark glamour, and Ferguson herself jokingly referred to it as “Madonna on crack.”
The Dune star was full of jokes during our chat, which helped paint a clearer picture as to how such a playful look came together. “I'm more Gothic. I'm edgy. I'm Scandi,” she says. “I'm not fluffy and, you know, bride-like. That’s just not me.”
The Dune: Part Two press tour has been full of bold showings, from Zendaya’s Stéphane Rolland dress with the pointed-pronged cutout to Florence Pugh’s side boob moment in her backless Valentino gown. However, none of the looks have been quite like this, and you can sense how free Ferguson felt in the ensemble.
“I think for me it was quite nice at the end here to be able to just break loose and think, No, f*ck it,” Ferguson says. “I'm going to go completely rogue and communicate something completely different. You know, [having the] freedom and the platform to do so.”
The stars of Dune: Part Two have certainly been breaking free with their red carpet choices, and it’s been a sight to behold. Ferguson notes that she’s surrounded by fashion showstoppers who shine just as bright even when they’re on their own. “You know, [you] can take everyone individually out, and they would [still] absolutely rocket,” she says.
But Ferguson, who plays Lady Jessica in the Dune series, certainly stands out on her own as well—and the New York premiere look was one of her most personal outfits yet. It’s clear that spur of the moment decisions can sometimes turn out for the best. “We literally just have fun, and sometimes you mess it up,” she tells me. “You know, everything isn't perfect.”
When I tell her that I did in fact love the look, she says that she's happy to hear it. But she adds, “It doesn't really matter as well because some people will like it. Some people won't like it. Some people will think it looks absolutely crazy and masquerades...but that's what's fun. The times that I kind of didn't really see myself because I was a little bit of a beige hideaway. That's not interesting. We're selling a movie...We're making fun for people to talk about and gossip about and hate and love. And, you know, that's what fashion is.”
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Royal Rota reporters and Meghan articles, circa 2019
Some posters pointed out that Charles and Camilla do leak while, William and Catherine do not. This is true. It is more nuanced than how the reporter to NYMag described it, and I'm guessing that's perhaps their experience versus other rota members.
Charles is notorious for leaking, especially against his sons, and is "friendly" with royal reporters.
However, I'd like bring up a different element here. The Sussexes and co. claim the rota was unfair to Meghan and portrayed her in a negative light. Well...let's look at a reporter of their ire, Rebecca English of the DailyMail, and some of the headlines of her reporting in 2019.
For example:
Prince Harry jokes about baby number TWO as he engages in rugby banter with Falklands veteran - while glowing Meghan tells guests: 'We're nearly there'
Meghan's fashion finale! Duchess of Sussex stuns in a blue Carolina Herrera gown as she joins her husband for a private meeting with King Mohammed VI on their last evening in Morocco
Meghan's fashion finale! Duchess of Sussex stuns in a blue Carolina Herrera gown as she joins her husband for a private meeting with King Mohammed VI on their last evening in Morocco
Touching moment Meghan glances down at her baby bump during an investiture ceremony in Morocco (before cheeky Harry jokes that he didn't realise she was pregnant)
Maternal Meghan makes a beeline for two adorable sisters who waited for TWO HOURS to catch a glimpse of 'the prince and princess' in Morocco
Meghan impresses schoolgirls in Morocco by talking in FRENCH - but embarrassed Harry apologises because he doesn't speak it, after Duchess of Sussex has henna tattoo to celebrate pregnancy
Pregnant Meghan dazzles in a flowing red Valentino dress covering her bump as she and Harry land in Casablanca ahead of three-day tour of Morocco where they will stay as guests of King Mohammed
Bun's the word! Meghan goes for a sleek topknot as she opts for an all-black outfit including a recycled Givenchy coat for university visit
Meghan's starring role! Duchess of Sussex is pretty in peach at the National Theatre as she makes her debut as royal patron after succeeding the Queen
oh and look here!
Palace staff are forced to spend hours moderating 'hundreds of thousands' of vile sexist and racist comments on Palace social media pages aimed at Kate and Meghan fuelled by rivalry between the duchesses' warring fans
The Markle sparkle! Meghan glitters in a £3,400 Roland Mouret gown and Diana's bracelet as she joins Harry for a charity performance by Cirque de Soleil at the Royal Albert Hall
Note: This was the night when allegedly Meghan told Harry she was struggling with her mental health, and he did nothing.
Joking well-wisher tells pregnant Meghan she's 'a fat lady' during her visit to a London animal welfare charity - but fortunately the Duchess sees the funny side
'We're ready, we're so excited': Moment Meghan couldn't resist revealing her due date to fans in Merseyside - and one claims she 'came straight out with it'
I'm having an April baby! Meghan lets slip to well-wishers during a walkabout in Birkenhead she is now SIX months pregnant – but doesn’t know if it’s a boy or a girl as she wants it to be a surprise
Here one unflattering story, which is based on the incident when Meghan lashed out at a staffer that English herself witnesses while the Sussexes were on tour in Fiji. Again - this is what the press does. You don't do your job, you misuse their power, and they call you out.
Meghan's bodyguard to quit after just six months in the job - weeks after her PA walked out - as protection officers 'find the Duchess's wish to be "one of the people" challenging'
More complimentary articles
Meghan shows how to dress to impress! Duchess gives fashion tips as she becomes patron of charity helping women get back to work - while wearing a £2,600 coat and a £1,700 handbag
How Meghan is 'incredibly relaxed' about her impending birth despite being up to a week overdue and facing having a hospital delivery instead of her dream natural home birth
Ha, fun side bar -- Amal Clooney getting an award from Charles.
Amal Clooney joins Prince's Trust charity as a figurehead for the first global youth campaign... with Prince Charles finding her 'deeply impressive'
Juming forward to the South African tour -- which actually, the Sussexes did very well on.
Archie meets the Archbishop! Meghan Markle and Prince Harry take son to tea with veteran anti-apartheid campaigner Desmond Tutu whose daughter jokes: 'He's going to be a ladies' man!'
Meghan Markle conjures memories of Princess Diana as she wears a headscarf in public for the first time on visit to Cape Town mosque
'He's the best dad!' Meghan Markle praises Prince Harry's parenting skills as he says she is 'the best mum' after they join in dance with South African children on latest stop in their African tour
Meghan Markle is greeted by a very enthusiastic fan, 81, as she and Prince Harry visit Cape Town's poignant District 6 Museum before sitting down to a snack of traditional pastries and samosas
Prince Harry says he 'can't wait' to introduce son Archie to Africa as he, Meghan and the baby head off for a ten-day tour
'Meghan will inspire women, partly because she is black': University of Johannesburg professor praises Duchess of Sussex as she is greeted by excited students ahead of tonight's reunion with Prince Harry
Fit for a prince! Meghan Markle picks up some denim dungarees for Archie (and jeans for herself) before hugging starstruck girls as she visits Johannesburg art studio without her son or Prince Harry
Meghan Markle thrills a classroom of charity workers when she SKYPES them during Prince Harry's visit to a college in Malawi on the couple's African tour
Then the Sussexes went to Canada and announced that they would step back from royal duties, and it all went downhill from there because of their own actions.
ACTIONS = CONSEQUCNES.
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i would love to just know some basic info about rosie <3
like what’s her favorite color? does she plan on having a family? her favorite movie/song/singer? (idk remember if this is inputted in previous asks or true mother but) how’s her relationship with her family like?
she’s just my girl and i lover her sm!
Rebecca Rose Phillips, Captain for the ATA! Deep red hair that is sometimes maroon in the right light, she loves the latest fashions and very much hates the rationing in England, but is thoroughly enjoying the shorter hem lines because of it.
Rose grew up in Georgia, but her family moved to South Carolina sometime in her yearly teenage years. She’s the youngest of three children, she has two older brothers. Her family is fairly close, she had a good childhood, did all the things southern girls of her age did. And all the things they were told not to do. She lost her virginity to her brother’s best friend after they moved and when he tried to propose she happily turned him down.
Rose started to learn to fly at sixteen, when her older brother learned, and she’s been in the sky ever since. Her oldest brother joined the army in the early 40s and passed in late 1941 after the Germans bombed a railway station in Norway. He never even saw any action and had been waiting on a transport to base. Which, after the initial grief, was when she decided to join the ATA.
Rose’s mother hasn’t spoken to her since she left, they had a massive argument when Rose joined and they both said very hurtful things. Her father sends her occasional care packages and updates her on what’s happening at home.
Her other brother is happily married and a doctor in North Carolina, he has four kids and Rose sends him condoms as a joke.
Rose’s favorite color is yellow, like the flowers that grow in the field outside her family’s house. Once Rosie finds out, he brings her one every time he sees her and that’s what has her falling for him. Among other things.
Rose likes all music, but she and Bucky bicker about it after the war. She prefers more lyrics than instruments and he disagrees. Rose loves to dance, and she’s dying to enter a few competitions. Begs Rosie to do one of those “last ones standing” competitions when they go meet her family.
Rose has a really tough exterior, her mother raised her to be a lady, but not one to be walked all over, and Rosie has a good time getting to the center of that toughness where she keeps her heart.
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Vixen Academia: Femme Fatale meets Dark Academia
That’s actually my own personal aesthetic BUT if you read this and says “hey, that’s actually quite like me”, feel free to call yourself a Vixen Academia person :)
SO I was reading a little about aesthetics and subcultures and I just realized I feet both Dark Academia AND femme fatale aesthetics and I though... Why not create a name to my aesthetic? Basically, Vixen Academia would be a little close to Romantic Academia, but less idealistic. It’s about confidence about your looks AND your academic skill, not letting anyone ashame you for been who you are, been feminine but quite dark at same time.
MOVIES & SERIES
Jennifer’s Body (2009)
Chicago (2002)
The Love Witch (2016)
The Pink Panther (1963)
The Tourist (2010)
Clue (1985)
Rebecca (1940)
Girl from Nowhere (2018-present)
Black Swan (2010)
Mean Girls (2004)
Heathers (the musical, please. The movie is so… meh)
BOOKS
Rebecca, Daphine du Maurier
Junji Ito’s Tomie
Carmilla, Sheridan Le Fanu
Lady Killers
They Never Learn, Layne Fargo
If We Were Villains, M. L. Rio (Meredith is 100% Vixen Academia)
THINGS
Cheerleading, fencing, martial arts or any sport that make you look badass af
Learning French just for the aesthetic
Always been the “too well dressed” friend of your group
Having THAT red lipstick
Knowing that your social life don’t make you less academic
Pearls, gold/silver neackless, hoop earings
“Carrear over romance” type
Reading layed down on your couch with a wine glass near by
(Comfortable) high heels, oxford shoes, mary janes etc
Hand fans to hot days
Readings about fashion and cosmetics
Sunny day = sunglasses day
Been a little mysteryus just for the fun
Always with a hand mirror on the bag
The “C’mon, I heard about a new place that’s seems amazing and nobody knows yet!” friend
Feminist studies and books
Skincare routine
Police & spy thriller books
“Villain Era” playlists
Usually hearing you have the “resting b face”
ALWAYS with something red (a bracelet, your shoes, a dress… anything, but always in red)
I also made a playlist you can hear clicking here!
#dark academia#chaotic academia#light academia#romantic academia#adhd academia#dark academia aesthetic#dark academia aesthetics#aesthetics#femme fatale#dark feminine aesthetic#vixen academia#personal aesthetic
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