#I'm a red flag

[gothic-croissant]

Intro

DNI: Proshippers MAPs NSFW blogs TERFS Anti-Therian Anti-Fur ableist queerphobic in anyway Dream SMP fans

Mutuals:

@amethyst-aster: They called me their friend once (I think) and their cool af

@f4y3w00d5: She is awesome I would call her my friend but i'd have to ask them

@ash-the-tiefling: I think we're chill

@lixorloveslicorice: Friends :D

@epixu: No comment /pos

@the-metatron: I hope he hasn't fucked my grandfather yet

@the-almighty-god: wait how is god my mutua-

@aerdoeswhatev: no comment /pos

@agentldiddy: we are plotting to kill R*wling (for legal reasons that's a joke)

@fattocatto-wizard: Fatto Catto. /pos

@the-random-wizard-from-space: he's chill and amazing we met through my former space obsession

@angelo-rib-shack: he's amazing metafam idk if we're related or not lmao

@coquette-baguette: matching usernames wonderful love him /p

Tone tags:

[itsbigbirdintime]

Slight Glitch Warning

[scarystickers]

Media that the gay tumblr people love

[cuddlytogas]

So I accidentally almost got into an argument on Twitter, and now I'm thinking about bad historical costuming tropes. Specifically, Action Hero Leather Pants.

See, I was light-heartedly pointing out the inaccuracies of the costumes in Black Sails, and someone came out of the woodwork to defend the show. The misunderstanding was that they thought I was dismissing the show just for its costumes, which I wasn't - I was simply pointing out that it can't entirely care about material history (meaning specifically physical objects/culture) if it treats its clothes like that.

But this person was slightly offended on behalf of their show - especially, quote, "And from a fan of OFMD, no less!" Which got me thinking - it's true! I can abide a lot more historical costuming inaccuracy from Our Flag than I can Black Sails or Vikings. And I don't think it's just because one has my blorbos in it. But really, when it comes down to it...

What is the difference between this and this?

Here's the thing. Leather pants in period dramas isn't new. You've got your Vikings, Tudors, Outlander, Pirates of the Caribbean, Once Upon a Time, Will, The Musketeers, even Shakespeare in Love - they love to shove people in leather and call it a day. But where does this come from?

Obviously we have the modern connotations. Modern leather clothes developed in a few subcultures: cowboys drew on Native American clothing. (Allegedly. This is a little beyond my purview, I haven't seen any solid evidence, and it sounds like the kind of fact that people repeat a lot but is based on an assumption. I wouldn't know, though.) Leather was used in some WWI and II uniforms.

But the big boom came in the mid-C20th in motorcycle, punk/goth, and gay subcultures, all intertwined with each other and the above. Motorcyclists wear leather as practical protective gear, and it gets picked up by rock and punk artists as a symbol of counterculture, and transferred to movie designs. It gets wrapped up in gay and kink communities, with even more countercultural and taboo meanings. By the late C20th, leather has entered mainstream fashion, but it still carries those references to goths, punks, BDSM, and motorbike gangs, to James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Mick Jagger. This is whence we get our Spikes and Dave Listers in 1980s/90s media, bad boys and working-class punks.

And some of the above "historical" design choices clearly build on these meanings. William Shakespeare is dressed in a black leather doublet to evoke the swaggering bad boy artist heartthrob, probably down on his luck. So is Kit Marlowe.

But the associations get a little fuzzier after that. Hook, with his eyeliner and jewellery, sure. King Henry, yeah, I see it. It's hideously ahistorical, but sure. But what about Jamie and Will and Ragnar, in their browns and shabby, battle-ready chic? Well, here we get the other strain of Bad Period Drama Leather.

See, designers like to point to history, but it's just not true. Leather armour, especially in the western/European world, is very, very rare, and not just because it decays faster than metal. (Yes, even in ancient Greece/Rome, despite many articles claiming that as the start of the leather armour trend!) It simply wasn't used a lot, because it's frankly useless at defending the body compared to metal. Leather was used as a backing for some splint armour pieces, and for belts, sheathes, and buckles, but it simply wasn't worn like the costumes above. It's heavy, uncomfortable, and hard to repair - it's simply not practical for a garment when you have perfectly comfortable, insulating, and widely available linen, wool, and cotton!

As far as I can see, the real influence on leather in period dramas is fantasy. Fantasy media has proliferated the idea of leather armour as the lightweight choice for rangers, elves, and rogues, a natural, quiet, flexible material, less flashy or restrictive than metal. And it is cheaper for a costume department to make, and easier for an actor to wear on set. It's in Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings, King Arthur, Runescape, and World of Warcraft.

And I think this is how we get to characters like Ragnar and Vane. This idea of leather as practical gear and light armour, it's fantasy, but it has this lineage, behind which sits cowboy chaps and bomber/flight jackets. It's usually brown compared to the punk bad boy's black, less shiny, and more often piecemeal or decorated. In fact, there's a great distinction between the two Period Leather Modes within the same piece of media: Robin Hood (2006)! Compare the brooding, fascist-coded villain Guy of Gisborne with the shabby, bow-wielding, forest-dwelling Robin:

So, back to the original question: What's the difference between Charles Vane in Black Sails, and Edward Teach in Our Flag Means Death?

Simply put, it's intention. There is nothing intentional about Vane's leather in Black Sails. It's not the only leather in the show, and it only says what all shabby period leather says, relying on the same tropes as fantasy armour: he's a bad boy and a fighter in workaday leather, poor, flexible, and practical. None of these connotations are based in reality or history, and they've been done countless times before. It's boring design, neither historically accurate nor particularly creative, but much the same as all the other shabby chic fighters on our screens. He has a broad lineage in Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean and such, but that's it.

In Our Flag, however, the lineage is much, much more intentional. Ed is a direct homage to Mad Max, the costuming in which is both practical (Max is an ex-cop and road warrior), and draws on punk and kink designs to evoke a counterculture gone mad to the point of social breakdown, exploiting the thrill of the taboo to frighten and titillate the audience.

In particular, Ed is styled after Max in the second movie, having lost his family, been badly injured, and watched the world turn into an apocalypse. He's a broken man, withdrawn, violent, and deliberately cutting himself off from others to avoid getting hurt again. The plot of Mad Max 2 is him learning to open up and help others, making himself vulnerable to more loss, but more human in the process.

This ties directly into the themes of Our Flag - it's a deliberate intertext. Ed's emotional journey is also one from isolation and pain to vulnerability, community, and love. Mad Max (intentionally and unintentionally) explores themes of masculinity, violence, and power, while Max has become simplified in the popular imagination as a stoic, badass action hero rather than the more complex character he is, struggling with loss and humanity. Similarly, Our Flag explores masculinity, both textually (Stede is trying to build a less abusive pirate culture) and metatextually (the show champions complex, banal, and tender masculinities, especially when we're used to only seeing pirates in either gritty action movies or childish comedies).

Our Flag also draws on the specific countercultures of motorcycles, rockers, and gay/BDSM culture in its design and themes. Naturally, in such a queer show, one can't help but make the connection between leather pirates and leather daddies, and the design certainly nods at this, with its vests and studs. I always think about this guy, with his flat cap so reminiscient of gay leather fashions.

More overtly, though, Blackbeard and his crew are styled as both violent gangsters and countercultural rockstars. They rove the seas like a bikie gang, free and violent, and are seen as icons, bad boys and celebrities. Other pirates revere Blackbeard and wish they could be on his crew, while civilians are awed by his reputation, desperate for juicy, gory details.

This isn't all of why I like the costuming in Our Flag Means Death (especially season 1). Stede's outfits are by no means accurate, but they're a lot more accurate than most pirate media, and they're bright and colourful, with accurate and delightful silks, lace, velvets, and brocades, and lovely, puffy skirts on his jackets. Many of the Revenge crew wear recognisable sailor's trousers, and practical but bright, varied gear that easily conveys personality and flair. There is a surprising dedication to little details, like changing Ed's trousers to fall-fronts for a historical feel, Izzy's puffy sleeves, the handmade fringe on Lucius's red jacket, or the increasing absurdity of navy uniform cuffs between Nigel and Chauncey.

A really big one is the fact that they don't shy away from historical footwear! In almost every example above, we see the period drama's obsession with putting men in skinny jeans and bucket-top boots, but not only does Stede wear his little red-heeled shoes with stockings, but most of his crew, and the ordinary people of Barbados, wear low boots or pumps, and even rough, masculine characters like Pete wear knee breeches and bright colours. It's inaccurate, but at least it's a new kind of inaccuracy, that builds much more on actual historical fashions, and eschews the shortcuts of other, grittier period dramas in favour of colour and personality.

But also. At least it fucking says something with its leather.

[ghouljams]

With Love, König tags: König x f!reader/f!oc, regency era au, manners, collaring, courting, king!König, reader is mildly insane, König is going to marry you and that's a threat Summary: Your fiance runs off, your reputation is in ruins, and worst of all König has decided he's going to make you his queen. He doesn't even ask your father's permission to do it.

You receive word that your fiance has left you in the short hours of the morning. It comes in a carefully folded note, with his seal, and his signature. It's cruel, but not unexpected. You'd known for long enough that this was an engagement for nothing but your title. Still, you shed a few tears onto the parchment at the loss of your future, bleak as it might have been. You can rest assured that your parents, and the rest of the social world, have already received the news. You expect they'll start looking for another match for you soon.

The second letter is somehow more surprising. You don't recognize the black wax seal, or the handwriting. You don't know how it slipped past your family without being opened, but it's tucked on the same tray as your fiance's letter and you break the seal with cautious fingers.

"My Heart," it begins, and you frown at the familiarity, "You have bewitched me, body and soul. My every hour is spent with thoughts of you. The memory of your touch is only remedied by my own hand, and even that is not enough. I hope that you will accept this small token of thanks for the dance we shared, and look forward to our next meeting with the same fervor I do."

You look up from the letter to stare at the wall. You narrow your eyes at the wallpaper and do your best to try and think of who the fuck is sending you love letters. Certainly not your ex-fiance, he never did more than send you a note asking you to wear something "more appropriate" for the next party. You look back at the letter. It's a bit stuck at the bottom, likely to keep whatever token it contains in place. You slip your finger carefully under the edge of the fold to open it. A silk ribbon flutters onto your lap as you stare down at the king's signature. "With Love, König" in perfect royal handwriting.

You scramble to ring for your maid, you need to get dresses and you need to speak to your father immediately. Your maid seems to either not know or not care that you are received a letter from a king because she helps you get ready with her usual compliments and coos. Disinterested in the day ahead of you, you always assume. She ties the ribbon behind your ears when you ask her what to do with it. The black clashes, but you don't have time to argue.

König is already in the sitting room with your father when you finally make it downstairs. He stands almost as quickly as you drop into a low curtsy. Your father stands too and you're taken aback by how small he looks next to König. Your father has always been a proud man, a man to be feared as much as respected, but next to König he may as well be a child. You drop your eyes to the floor, proper and polite.

"Gott in himmel," König breathes, and your eyes dart to him. His brows are drawn together, like he's in pain. You can't tell if he's displeased when you can only see half of his face, his mouth obscured by a dark black cloth. You meet his eyes and are quick to avert your gaze, lest the heat in his burns you.

You rise from your curtsy and keep your eyes on the floor. "My lord," you greet, and hear him hum. He's pleased you think.

"My lady," The way he stresses "my" makes you shiver, his lady, "look at me when I speak to you." You're quick to follow his command, the tightness in his tone is intriguing, but you can't see a reason for it when you do look up at him.

Your father attempts to raise issue when König stalks towards you, his voice drowned out by the way the king fills your vision. You barely flinch when he grabs your chin, and turns your head. His skin against yours is unfamiliar and rough, it makes your skin prickle with heat as he sighs.

"You're wearing this wrong, Hummelchen," He tells you, his free hand going to tug at the end of the ribbon around your head. The black silk is tugged loose, falling delicately into König's grip. His thumb teases your lower lip, improper and entirely hidden from your father. "You want to wear this right for me, ja?"

You open your mouth to answer and he pushes his thumb between your lips, presses down against your tongue to hold you open. Your eyes dart in your father's direction, panic rising in your chest. König's eyes crease at the edges, he tips his head to watch your tongue try to work under his grip. You settle for swallowing, your lips closing around his finger as you nod your head. What else can you do in the face of a king?

"Braves Mädchen," He praises sending another prickle of heat over your skin. You feel like all your manners are just being thrown out the window, it's making your head spin. His grip loosens, his thumb sliding out from between your lips to smear the wetness against your hot cheek. Warmth pools between your legs, entirely too familiar, and entirely his fault.

König makes a twirling motion with his finger, and you don't hesitate to turn. You can hear his fingers pulling the length of ribbon between his hands, and you're glad to have your hair off your neck when he loops the ribbon around your throat. You have to tip your chin up, you have the sudden --and startlingly appealing-- thought that he could very easily choke you like this. König's fingers pull the ribbon tight, and you make a quiet noise of... protest? Approval? You make a noise, and it loosens just enough to be comfortable. He's quick to tie a neat bow, the tails of it hanging on either side of your spine. You touch your fingers to the silk. Like a collar.

König's fingers linger on your neck, and you tilt your head to afford him space to touch. Each brush of his skin makes your heart race, this monster of a man is so gentle with you. As if you were some treasure he could hardly afford. He curls over you, one of his hands sliding down your arm. He grips your wrist tight, and raises it to his lips. You turn your head to watch him, his eyes are dark when he catches you staring. His teeth flash dangerously in the light where they scrape against your pulse. Not so gentle then.

"You will accompany me to the next party," He leaves no room for argument in his command, states it like a fact predetermined by God, "We'll announce our engagement there."

"Your what?" You father asks behind König, aghast at the breach in conduct. You hardly notice it, entranced by the way he presses his cheek into your palm.

"Kay," You breathe for him. He's just like one of the heroes from your penny novels, better for being real. You wonder if he's ever killed anyone, he'd look good with a little blood on him.

[galoogamelady]

I forgot to share the full pics from the end credits of Red Flags (context for "sopese")

[uncanny-tranny]

Quick tip: If a trans passing guide is focused on thinness, whiteness, or getting rid of anything about yourself that is "too clockable" (regardless of if that thing about yourself makes you happy), maybe it isn't worth fretting about, since it is clearly coming from a homogenized idea of what passing looks like

[babykittenteach]

The vase needs flowers.

[bizarrelittlemew]

the way Stede drums his fingers on the back of the chair

also: how he lifts his robe while walking on deck

[archonfurina]

Random Astarion Gifs 16/~

[canisalbus]

You mentioned before that the people who would have access to Machete's bedchamber would likely already know about Vasco. How did that come up in your mind? Did they get caught in the act or was the subject broached with enough trust? How did those people handle it? Sorry if this is a bit vague but I thought about it today and I'm very interested. :)

I think it just has to be the case, I can't imagine how they could manage to hide the fact Vasco is bunking with him from everyone, for years and years. Machete doesn't live alone, he has staff and servants who do his housekeeping and run his errands. Even if Vasco didn't stay there for any extended periods of time and snuck out the back door to avoid attention, I'm assuming at least the people who do his laundry and change his sheets would eventually detect that some sort of funny business had happened. But the number of people who are in on it is still very very small and tightly controlled. His assistant Vittorio definitely knows and helps to manage this situation, so does his personal doctor, and on top of that maybe a handful of most trusted high-ranking emplyees, which he has vetted extremely carefully and pays handsomely for their discreetness and prudence.

[siren-serenity]

when he loves you

characters: red-haired shanks, gn!reader warnings: fluff a/n: - i'll take requests for more of this "series"!!! i kinda wanna do sanji and ace hehe - HOLY SHIT HE'S SO FINE!!!! LIKE DAMN- OMG SHANKS??? SHANKS?!?!?! - feedback is appreciated!

part one (shanks) // part two (ace) // part three (buggy)

when shanks loves you, there is no doubt about it. it's so painfully obvious when he's in love, heart fluttering as if he's an old school boy and butterflies in his stomach erupting whenever you're around him. the blush on his cheeks rivals the shade of red his infamous hair and his tongue turns to lead around you.

"benn, shut up!" shanks whisper-shouts, pressing his hand over his face and trying to cover up as much of his blushing face as possible. his voice is muffled yet anyone could hear the whine in his voice. "y/n can hear you!" his black-haired first mate simply sighs heavily, resigned to his fate as shanks' cupid. "that's the whole point, captain!" shanks points at him, cheeks flushed. "not another word!" benn only rolls his eyes but shanks could see the glimmer of amusement in them.

when shanks loves you, you learn to love his way of expressing affection - physical affection. whether it is him holding you by the waist in a death grip whenever a storm hits whilst he's steering the wheel or at the quiet moments in the middle of the night and he's the little spoon embraced by you, you learn to love the amount of warmth he emits and the little featherlight kisses he presses on instinct.

"mhmm," shanks sighs and scoots closer to you. he buries himself in your arms, smiling widely. "this feels...nice...." you pet his hair, and the grin expands. he loves the way your fingers gently ran through his messy red hair, careful to not pull any knots, and the soothing action almost makes him fall asleep. "you like this?" you tease and even with his eyes closed, shanks could imagine the way your eyes would twinkle. "yeah," shanks presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw before nuzzling into you. taking a deep breath of your scent, he mumbles something one last time before falling asleep. "i love it."

when shanks loves you, there is nothing in the world holding him back from showing just how much he loves you. he's an emperor, what's the point of coveting so much berry when he can spend it all on you? there's no greater joy than seeing the look on your face when he comes back, gifts in tow. even though you chide him for spending so much berry on you, you're grinning nonetheless and his heart stops. it's a routine on every island he and his crew stop at, one that he intends to do until he can't anymore.

"shanks!" you run down the plank and tackle him in a hug. his arm cradles the back of your head, pushing it closer to him as if he's trying to mold you together with him. "you're back!" "always, love," he gives you a light kiss before picking up the almost-forgotten bags. he shakes them, smiling. "got you something." you sigh playfully but took it in hand. gosh- the way your eyes glittered and the way you kept biting your lip to prevent the big smile from erupting on your face...shanks would do anything to keep it there. "you can't keep buying me more stuff! spend the berry on your crew!" although you say this, shanks knows, without a doubt, that you're going to squeal over each item he bought and keep them pristine in your cupboard. including the cheesy (you called it cringe) mug that red '#1 lover!!' and the matching ('cliche' you called it) pair of silly duck shoes., you'll treasure them all.

when shanks loves you, he loves you. heart, soul, mind, body, you can have it all, as long as he can have you in return.

"i like you," shanks says, cheeks blushing as he confesses to you first. "love ya," he presses a kiss to your head as you wake up, a giant grin on his face as always. "i love you," shanks cradles your face in his, hand shaking as he realizes that he could have lost you. he would do anything to bring you back if that happened; hell hath no fury like a pirate scorned when he found your murderer. he realizes that the moment the sword descended on you and almost pierced through skin that perhaps...perhaps you were the 'one' that rayleigh mentioned all the time. "i love you, y/n. don't ever leave me...please."

[readgi]

I know the teen wolf fandom is pretty much dead, but I need to know how y'all feel about Theo Raeken?

Cause I haven't even looked at this show since the last season came out, but ALL OF A SUDDEN I'm obsessed with that boy and his character development on season 6 (or the little we got anyways) all over again

And thiam too but anyways

Is that a red flag? Should I be concerned?

[darunyama]

Homelander in his yandere era

[supanuts]

BENZ ATTHANIN as Methas and GARFIELD PANTACH as JJ in THIS LOVE DOESN'T HAVE LONG BEANS (2024) TEASER

[uncanny-tranny]

Some more advice for fellow adults: set your ego aside and let younger people (even kids!) educate and teach you. There is no shame in looking to a younger person for education and knowledge. It is, actually, a big facet of humanity that we teach each other - why, then, does that teacher need to be the Right Age in order for you to be willing to learn from them?