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venture x childhoodfriends!reader
heeeyyy soooo.... I watched that one episode of mlp where twilight meets and reconciles with Moondancer and it inspired me to write this 😈😈
ALSO MY FUCKIN DRAFT OF THIS DIDNT SAVE SO I HAD TO START OVER RASGDHFJXKSN
also I haven't written a fanfiction since like.. middle school and for reference I've already graduated so I'm sorry if it's not that good 😭🙏
Sloan Cameron, also known as Venture. a now very well known archeologist, talon fighter, and the occasional overwatch agent. needless to say, their strength, wits, and discoveries has put them in the news and a few articles a good number of times.
right now, believe or not, they're not on some site looking for ancient relics of the past. or, in some way they could be. right now, they're at home looking through old photos of their childhood. they had recently moved after their previous apartment had been destroyed in an omnic attack.
for hours, they had been giggling to themselves, reminiscing old memories.
"awww, that was when I dressed up as a mummy for Halloween! I got called a nerd so many times.." they cringed briefly at the teasing they used to face. not like it was their fault that nobody else seemed to care about having a historically accurate costume! well... nobody except....
"wait.. who's that?" Sloan grabbed another photo, one of them in high school standing next to someone. they scratched their head as they tried to remember who this mystery person is.
"oh! that's y/n!" they finally remembered. their victorious smile faded as they started to remember you. "wow i... completely forgot about them.." they furrowed their brows.
they started to look for more photos of you. the more they saw, the more they remembered.
and the more they remembered about you, the more they remembered what they did to you and the pain they caused.
you and Sloan were best friends. from grade school until high school. the two of you met in grade school, both sharing a passion for dinosaurs, and you were inseparable since. you did everything together. you had a passion for art that matched the passion Sloan had for archeology.
Sloan remembered how you always said that you'd become an infamous artist, creating art for all to see and relate to or empathize with. they thought to themselves... well, if you were as passionate as they were, as they remembered, they were sure they could look you up and find countless of articles and online discussions about you. it would be easy to get in touch with you.
so Sloan pulled out their old cracked phone, and started to do some research on your name.
but... nothing. not so much as an online profile appeared. they blinked, confused. what happened? where were you?
their mind was filled with conflicting thoughts about why they couldn't find you online. they didn't doubt your ability to become successful, but maybe... you have an underground succession thing going on?
after not coming to a satisfying enough conclusion, Sloan shook their head. then they had an idea. even if you don't have an online appearance, you two used to be childhood best friends. it wouldn't be that hard to find you.
Sloan didn't know why, but they felt compelled and determined to find you.
actually, that's a lie. they do know why. they just don't want to think about it.
~
Sloan's nerves were through the roof right now. they started looking for you in their old hometown, and, surprisingly enough, you never left. so after some asking around, they found the apartment you supposedly lived in.
Sloan felt nervous as they stood at your door, feeling like an unwanted guest. well, they kinda are, but you'd be happy to see your old friend, right? who wouldn't be?
taking a deep breath in and puffing their chest out to feign confidence, they finally mustered up the courage to knock at your door.
after waiting dreadfully for a few seconds, the door slowly creaked open. Sloan's heart raced with anticipation for seeing your face again after so many years. and, from what they heard from the people who live here still, it seems nobody else has really seen you that often either.
eventually, the darkness inside your home filled with some light as Sloan was finally able to see your face. wow... you looked.. different. but still just as beautiful.
you styled your hair/hijab differently now, you were wearing more casual clothes (assumably resting at home), and.... you had bags under your eyes?
Sloan stood there awkwardly, watching your face go from confusion to shock. they lifted a hand and said, "hey..." while looking off to the side, unsure of how to greet you after so many years.
"uhm.. do you remember me? it's me, Sloan! we used to be friends? I just moved recently and I found some photos of us, and I thought of you so I wanted to-" they started rambling a bit, before they got interrupted.
"what are you doing here." Sloan's heart dropped as they heard the slight venom in your tone and they looked at your expression, only to find an emotionless, yet slightly bitter face. it wasn't the face they remembered... you used to be so sweet and caring, never letting a sour expression on your face. so why are you so different now?
"er- well.. I wanted to reconnect. I know we haven't talked in years, a-and I'm sorry for not reaching out before! but I got so focused on my work that i-" they were interrupted yet again as you scoffed, looking away.
"right. I know you were. I see you all the time on the news." you sighed. "look, it was real nice of you to stop by, but I'd rather be alone right now. goodbye." you shut the door.
Sloan stood there, shocked at your words and reaction.
meanwhile, on the other side of the door, your hands shook as you gripped the doorknob still. your heart ached as you just slammed the door in the face of your old friend, and... your old love.
way back when you two were still friends, as you grew up, you grew to like Sloan. like, really like them. they were everything to you. they meant everything to you. that is, until..
you shook the thought away, not wanting to remember. you let out a shaky sigh, trying to clam down from the flurry of emotions flowing through you right now. you held your head in your hands, overwhelmed. another knock at your door snapped you out of your thoughts. feeling anger build up again, you opened the door again, narrowing your exhausted eyes at your ex-friend.
"why are you still here? what do you want from me?" you spewed at them, feeling annoyed at the sight of them still at your door.
"listen, I know that we've- I've been gone for a long time, but I really want to reconnect with you. I want to be friends with you again." they pleaded, hoping you'll agree to their request.
your heart winced at the word "friends". you bit your lip, closed your eyes and sighed. "no thanks. I don't need anyone else, and I certainly don't need you." you closed the door again, this time with the intention of ignoring them if they tried knocking again.
Sloan stood there yet again, not knowing what to do. you were so... angry. and they knew why. and they knew they had to make it up to you. they did try knocking again, but after you didn't open the door again after the third knock, they left. they were still just as determined as ever to make it up to you.
you on the other hand, was determined as ever to push your feelings away and forget about them. you thought you had moved on, but seeing them again just brought up so many old memories, feelings, emotions, and heart break.
you sat on your couch, going through your phone. finally finding your and Sloan's old messages, you scrolled through the countless unread messages you had sent. tears welled up in your eyes as every emotion you felt then made themselves known again.
you remembered the heart ache you felt. the betrayal you felt. the sadness, the anxiety, the frustration, and the anger. you felt so.. distraught. you didn't know what to do with all these emotions.
after what happened, you became a shut-in. you closed yourself off from everyone else. you never left your hometown, never having enough money to do so and no goal in mind of where you would even move to if you wanted to. the sheer pain Sloan had caused you ruined you.
you had spent countless nights remembering them. so many nights wasted on laying in bed awake at 3am crying your eyes out over them. after a while, you convinced yourself that you moved on and that they weren't worth your time or emotions. nobody was worth your heart anymore. and you weren't going to mope around anymore hoping someone would change your mind. and you certaininly weren't going to let Sloan give you that hope.
~
Sloan felt defeated as they continued on their walk throughout their old town. every idea they had seemed like an idea that wouldn't work or go well.
almost considering giving up and going home, they paused as they saw a flier on a telephone pole. it was an advertisement for an art show coming up, which happens to be the next day. face lighting up, Sloan had an idea, it may be a dumb one, but most of the ideas they had were dumb, and those pretty much always worked out, so why wouldn't this one?
grabbing one of the fliers, they started to make their way back to your home, remembering your door had a mail slot in it.
~
you were sitting on your couch, sketching in your sketchbook to calm yourself down from earlier. even after what happened all those years ago, you still pursued art as a hobby.
your ears perked up as you heard something go through your mail slot in your door. curious, you got up to check what it was. you opened up the folded piece of paper, and saw it was an ad for an art show coming up tomorrow at the local museum. you felt a little excitement run through you at the thought of going to another art show. you enjoyed going to shows like this, seeing other artists' work. but that excitement was short lived as it was replaced with confusion.
"why am I getting mail at 8pm at night...?" you mumbled to yourself. opening the door, hoping to catch the culprit who gave you this ad, you looked around but found no one in sight. you just shrugged your shoulders and closed the door.
around the corner, Sloan was hiding behind a corner, silently celebrating that didn't seem to find out it was them who left it there and, fingers-crossed, were going to the art show the next day. their heart raced again that day as they prayed that you would show up.
~
sure enough, the next day came and you dressed up in some nice clothes and showed up to the art show. but, as you were arriving to the first steps to the museum, a familiar face stopped you dead in your tracks. Sloan.
"what are YOU doing here?" you asked, irritated.
Sloan took some steps towards you, "well, I know how passionate you are for art, so I thought I'd invite you here! we could walk through the exhibits and all the art together and catch up!" they excitedly explained, reaching their hand out for you to take.
they looked away for a second, finally being more honest, "look i- I know I hurt you. and I wanted to make it up to you. so please, let me try." they pleaded, looking back at you, flashing that famous smile at you that you loved.
your eyes wavered, considering taking their hand for a brief moment. but then you swallowed your feelings and pushed their hand away.
"and.. you think this is going to make up for everything?" you questioned.
"uhh, yes?" they said, full of hope.
"oh, so, you're gonna invite ME to this art show, when you couldn't even bother to show up to the last one?" you felt your emotions begin to rise up.
"what after this? you're going to leave? are you going to leave me again without even saying goodbye?" tears started to well up in your eyes.
"everyone was expecting me to be able to make a name for myself at that show, to finally start my successful career in art like I said I would! and i completely bombed it! I felt absolutely humiliated!!" your voice started to rise as you finally started venting all your feelings about what happened to them.
"I spent the whole event thinking about you: 'where's Sloan?', 'where are they?', 'maybe they're just late!', 'where's the person that i love?'!" your voice cracked.
"I felt like I didn't matter to you! it was the biggest opportunity of my life and I needed you there, and you! DIDN'T! SHOW! UP!" finally being overwhelmed by your emotions, you stormed off, tears rolling down your face as you ran off back home.
Sloan stood at the entrance of the museum, unaware of the people staring and just focused on your fleeing form. they were absolutely mortified. they knew they had hurt you.. but they didn't know it was this bad. or maybe they just didn't want to accept that it was this bad. they let a few stray tears go down their face before wiping them and coming after you.
~
you were at home, feeling as embarrassed and exhausted as ever. you felt empty too. tears were still coming down your face as you heard a soft knock at the door. you knew who it was. you briefly contemplated ignoring it, before getting up and opening the door, avoiding eye contact with the tall figure.
"y/n... can- can I come in?" Sloan stammered, unsure if you'd actually say yes.
you didn't even care at this point, you nodded and opened the door enough for them to come inside.
Sloan looked around your home, various art pieces and papers scattered around. they watched as you sat on your couch, following suit.
"hey.. about what-" they started before getting interrupted by none other than you once again. except this time it was much different than the last times.
"im sorry." you croaked out. Sloan had a confused expression on their face.
"i-im sorry for yelling and making a scene like that at the museum. I'm sorry for being so cold to you before when you were just trying to make amends." you genuinely felt guilty. you started to realize that, as much of a horrible friend they were for leaving you, you were just as bad for treating them that way.
Sloan shook their head, "no, I should be the one apologizing." they paused. "I abandoned you when you needed me. and... I never even said goodbye. I left. and we never spoke for over 10 years." Sloan started to feel their own guilt begin to rise up in them as they confessed.
"the reason I left... well, we were 16 and I had gotten accepted for an internship with the wayfinders society. but... it required me to leave to wherever they needed me, whether it's Cairo, Petra, Egypt, anywhere. it was the biggest opportunity of my life... and I knew that if I didn't accept it, I'd miss out on having my dream job." they smiled a bit as they remembered their early days as an archeologist. you started to look up at them, listening to their explanation.
Sloan frowned again, "but... the day they needed me to get on the plane and leave.. was the day of your art show. I had to choose. and... I'm sorry. I couldn't let this opportunity slip by me. so.. I got on the plane and left." their voice started to waver. "i.. I'm sorry I never even said goodbye. I wanted to but... I didn't know how. I knew it'd hurt you. and after you started texting me so much, asking me where I was and why I disappeared and left, I didn't know what to do. I was scared." there were now more tears coming down Sloan's face as they finally confessed how they felt about that whole situation. ever since it happened, they had never told a soul about what they did. they had too much guilt ridden inside them to ever tell that to anybody, especially you.
you reached over to hold their hand, hoping to comfort them, just like you used to.
"im... I'm sorry you had to make that decision. I know it must have been an incredibly difficult one. but you not showing up and leaving without a word really did hurt me a lot..." you swallowed nervously, preparing to say your next words.
"the truth is... the reason why it was so important to me for you to be there was because.. I was going to confess to you afterwards." you closed your eyes, not wanting to see what Sloan's reaction to that was. "i... I had a huge crush on you for so long, and-and i had planned for months how I was going to confess, and after I heard about the art show and applying, I had a whole plan to invite you and confess to you afterwards." your cheeks started to flush a little.
"so... when you didn't show up.. and you left... it completely broke me. I felt abandoned, I felt like you hated me and didn't care about me." your voice started to crack again as tears threatened to spill.
Sloan's own cheeks heated up a little at your confession. you.. liked them? suddenly little behaviors you exhibited way back when started to make sense in their head. seeing that you were about to start crying, they brought a hand up to your face and caressed your cheek with their thumb.
you jumped a little at the sudden feeling of their hand comforting you. it had been so long since you've felt a comforting touch like this, let alone from them. you naturally leaned into and actually begun crying again.
"y/n.. I had no idea you liked me that much.. I'm sorry for not realizing sooner." they paused to think... they knew they never really had feelings for you like that. but... that was over 10 years ago. both of you were completely different people.
"do you think maybe.. we could start over?" Sloan proposed. they still wanted to make things up to you. hurting you was the last thing they ever wanted to do.
you sniffled as you looked up at them through blurry vision and teary eyes.
"i.. I'd like that." you finally smiled. the smile that Sloan loved.
"great.." Sloan cleared their throat as they stuck out their other hand to you for a handshake. "Heya! I'm Sloan, also known as Venture, it's nice to meet you! that's your name?"
you giggled at their silliness, but after calming down, you gently took their hand and shook it. "hi, I'm y/n. it's nice to meet you too." the both of you sat in comfortable silence, smiling at each other.
neither of you knew what your own respective feelings were for the other.. you didn't know if you loved them still. and Sloan didn't know if they'd ever grow to love you the way that you did. but either way, neither of you will ever be abandoning each other. you're here for each other.
~
HOLY SHIT I FUCKING FINISHED IT JESUSSSSS
anywayz
I hope at least one of u gooners liked this even tho I yap a lot 🙏🙏
also not proofread cuz it's like 5am and I've been typing for hours and I'm not gonna read allat 😭🙏
anywayz
hope it was good enough considering I hadn't written for years lol
Bai Bai :3
#venture#overwatch#venture i love you#venture x reader#sloane cameron#sloan cameron#sloan cameron x reader#venture ow2#venture overwatch#overwatch 2#fanfic#venture pls kiss me#childhood friends to lovers?#kinda not actually lol srry#angst#unrequited love#bittersweet#Spotify
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Period Drama Costuming - a (ranty) review
I love period dramas. I watch them like my life depends on it, and as a result, I have Thoughts. Period dramas are arguably where costuming becomes most important - here, costume isn't solely a storytelling device, it's a reflection of the specific place and time in which the narrative is taking place. Sometimes it's done well. Sometimes it really - really - isn't.
It's reductive to try and make any sweeping, general rules about how costumes in period dramas should be done. Every show has its own tone and style, and this is important to consider. However, some productions can take this in... interesting directions. We can really only judge each attempt at historical costuming on an individual basis, which - spoiler alert - is exactly what I'm about to do. Below the cut, I've had a look at some bad costumes, some good costumes, and some that don't really seem to fit in either category.
DISCLAIMER!! - This is simply an opportunity for me to rant about something I have a lot of (subjective) Feelings™ about, and is in no way supposed to comment on the overall quality of any of the pieces discussed. I'm also NOT claiming to be an expert on this topic. There are lots of people on here who undoubtedly know more about this than me, and if you're one of them, I'd really love to hear your thoughts!!
The Bad
Reign (The CW, 2013-17)
I've just gotta get this one out of the way. I made it through an almost-entire season of Reign before the atrocity that is its costuming got the better of me. If you'd shown me photos from this show without telling me it's about Mary Queen of Scots, I couldn't have guessed what period this might be set in. Reign's costume designer has stated "I wanted gowns that kept some kind of Elizabethan element, whether it was a nipped waist and extreme silhouette, or if it had a bit of a medieval feel" and uh. Yeah. By and large, that didn't happen. From what I can tell, a somewhat historical silhouette does begin to appear in the show's final season, but at what cost?
Perhaps Reign wouldn't have been as bad if the dresses were at least nice to look at. Instead, they're generally reminiscent of prom dresses - the fabric looks cheap, and the details look so tacky that I can't even endorse the costuming for this show from an aesthetic standpoint. Sorry to any Reign fans out there, but this is almost certainly going to be my most scathing review of the lot.
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The Musketeers (BBC, 2014-16)
I love The Musketeers. I really do. But what the costume department was thinking - especially when it came to the women's costumes - I really have no idea. I mean, a Peter Pan collar?? On the Queen of France??? IN THE 1620S???? Truly something. Constance always looks like she only half-finished getting dressed that morning (why is her hair down. she's married.), and Anne sports some of the most outlandishly ridiculous collars I've ever seen. I don't even want to get into what Marie de' Medici is wearing. It's belts - as a necklace apparently! She also appears to be hiding some kind of gourd under her hair, but alas.
Yes, the men wear pleather. Yes, it does upset me.
The Musketeers' costumes perhaps wouldn't sting so badly if they didn't dress numerous background extras in significantly more accurate clothing. I've spent too much time watching this show and sighing in despair because Noblewoman Number 3 has a more accurate 1620s dress than the literal Queen.
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The Spanish Princess (Starz, 2019-20)
I haven't properly sat down to watch The Spanish Princess through to its conclusion yet, but I do intend to - when she's not fawning over Richard III, Philippa Gregory adaptations can still be good fun, despite having about as much historical authenticity as the Fiji mermaid.
Nevertheless, no one in this show seems aware of what time period they're in, with dress styles spanning from early 14th-century surcoats to some fairly Elizabethan-looking silhouettes. The fabric choices are all over the place, and similarly - although not quite as egregiously - to Reign, often don't even manage to look good. Even from a modern standpoint, this show is colour- and pattern-clash galore. There is also practically no layering whatsoever, with the dresses going on as single pieces without a panel in sight. Admittedly probably easier from a production standpoint, but still.
Don't even get me started on the headdresses. Weird, pudding-cap-esque padded crowns and tiny scraps of fabric like the ones seen on Mary Tudor (an attempt at a French hood? I shudder) are fairly constant, although I have spotted a few passable attempts at a Gable hood.
They do get points for giving Arthur Tudor a fuck ass bob. Thanks.
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The Buccaneers (Apple TV+, 2023-)
When I first started The Buccaneers and saw what its costuming had to offer, I audibly sighed. If you're a fan of visible back-lacing, cheap quality fabrics, and poorly fitting bodices, this is the show for you. The 1870s look is not a difficult one to emulate, and yet The Buccaneers fails rather miserably with its main characters, half of whom appear to be walking around in their underwear, with untied hair and single-layer dresses. Poor Nan only seems to own about two outfits that aren't visibly too big for her.
But by far the greatest crime committed by The Buccaneers' costume department comes in the decision to have multiple instances in which characters appear to be wearing corsets as tops. Yeah. I had a rough time with that one too. Mabel seems a particular victim of this - in both of the images above she looks as if she's been rushed out of the house before she got the chance to even button up her dress. A State of Affairs indeed.
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The Good
Becoming Elizabeth (Starz, 2022)
Although I was slightly underwhelmed with the execution of Becoming Elizabeth's story, this was absolutely overshadowed by its costuming, which is probably one of the most historically accurate depictions of Tudor clothing I've ever seen. With the same costume designer as Shardlake (which is also very well done - a big day for fans of Anthony Boyle's codpiece), it's remarkably clear how much research went into the pieces worn on this show, with some directly recreated from portraits, and others visibly inspired by surviving clothing from the period.
I won't pretend that Becoming Elizabeth's costuming is without flaws - I'm not a fan of Elizabeth's hunting/riding clothes, and she wears her hair down far too often (Catherine Parr appeared at times to have access to a Dyson Airwrap). However, the positives definitely outweigh any gripes I have. We have dressing scenes in which we see the separate layers and panels that comprised Tudor dresses, and the French hoods actually have hoods, as opposed to simply being the semi-circular headbands we see far too often. The royal women wear ermine fur on their sleeves, and I was also a fan of the jewellery.
The care that went into the costumes for Becoming Elizabeth is so clear - I truly wish I'd enjoyed the plot more, if just so that I could spend more time staring at those dresses.
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Emma. (Autumn de Wilde, 2020)
I adore Emma, and its costuming is honestly perhaps the biggest part of that love. The waistlines! The hairstyles! The bonnets! Emma's costumes are proof that you don't have to sacrifice historical accuracy for the sake of stylization - it's by far the most zany and colourful of any direct Austen adaptation, and yet its visuals remain strikingly faithful to the Regency period.
Like Becoming Elizabeth, many of the pieces worn in Emma bear a striking resemblance to surviving pieces and fashion plates from the era. The only problem I've noticed in this was the alarmingly strange detachable ruff-thing Emma is shown wearing in one scene, but frankly, it still manages to fit the tone of the piece.
I'm usually not a huge fan of the Regency fashion depicted on television - I find it rather dull - but the costumes in this movie are gorgeously distracting in every scene. Turns out historical accuracy actually can make things better - who knew!
Is this enough to make me forgive Alexandra Byrne for the costumes in Mary Queen of Scots (2018)?
No.
(I do not forgive ANYONE who worked on Mary Queen of Scots for making Mary Queen of Scots.)
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Firebrand (Karim Aïnouz, 2023)
Firebrand hasn't even been released outside of Cannes yet, and already I am so, so down with everything it's giving. This movie could end up being the dullest two hours of my life, but I'll still sing its praises for one very simple reason - CHIN. STRAPS.
THAT'S RIGHT FOLKS!! The French hoods FINALLY have chin straps!!!! It's only been in virtually every well-known painting of them ever, no big deal.
Although we only have one trailer and a few promo photos to go off of, the costumes in Firebrand look fantastic, with enough layers, fur, embroidery, and hoop skirts to keep me happy for perhaps the rest of my life. We'll see how the movie itself turns out, but it already has a lot going for it in my eyes.
Also shoutout to Henry VIII's absolutely manky leg ulcers in the trailer. That's what I like to see.
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The Outliers
Right. Here is where the hypocrite accusations are about to come flying. But frankly, I said it myself at the start that every period piece deserves to be judged on an individual basis, and the tone and intention of each piece is important in how its costumes are perceived.
That being said, if you think any of the 'bad' costumes deserve to be in this section - maybe they should've tried not being ugly, idk.
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Bridgerton (Netflix, 2020-)
Bridgerton's excuse for its inaccuracy comes not from its lack of effort, but rather from its deliberate rejection of the historical narrative in any form whatsoever. We have two Real People™ in Queen Charlotte and King George III, but even their spin-off opens with a disclaimer that their story will be utterly fictional. Bridgerton does not present an issue like some of the other pieces on this list because it is actively opposed to being historically accurate to a degree that few other period pieces have arguably ever achieved.
Literally nothing about Bridgerton is consistent with history, so it does not disappoint when its costumes aren't either. The clothing does take visible inspiration from the Regency silhouette, but even then it is not consistent, with Queen Charlotte's costumes still firmly Georgian-esque (and honestly, marvellous wigs aside, they're not... bad?). Bridgerton is a historical fantasy before it's a historical drama, and as such it's easy to just sit back and enjoy the costumes for what they are - even when what they are is garish.
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The Great (Hulu, 2020-23)
The Great is first and foremost a dark comedy, not a historical piece. Yes, Catherine the Great and Peter III were real people, and yes, much like in the show, Catherine did overthrow her husband in real life, too. But the similarities end here, as none of the characters in The Great have any intention of resembling their real-life counterparts.
Set roughly in the 1740s, the costumes in The Great are clearly far from reality, but they still resemble the silhouettes we know and recognise as 18th Century. The show is a satirical means of poking fun at the opulent aristocracy, and as such every costume conveys a distinct appearance of luxury. Every single item of clothing worn by the nobility looks absurdly expensive, and the exaggerated ridiculousness of many of the looks we see onscreen are an intentional way of conveying how utterly disconnected the people at court are from reality. From Peter's leopard skin jacket to ladies wearing powdered wigs as hats, The Great's costuming is purposefully elevated from its historical source material, and that is precisely what makes it so good.
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The Favourite (Yorgos Lanthimos, 2018)
Sandy Powell's work on The Favourite is perhaps one of my all-time favourite pieces of costuming. Similarly to The Great, The Favourite utilises clearly recognisable aspects of 18th-century fashion - with ermine fur trim, half-length sleeves, and periwigs - but stylised so that everything conforms to a solidly black and white colour palate.
The Favourite's costumes are gorgeous and evocative of their time period - with well-portrayed mantuas, riding habits, fontanges etc. - all while conforming to Lanthimos' characteristically off-beat style. The shared colour palate really puts the three leads on equal footing in a visual sense, which is key in exploring the relationships that Abigail and Sarah are able to manipulate Queen Anne into developing. Had the colours and fabrics been historically accurate, I believe the movie would have risked making Anne too visibly above the rest of her court, but the striking congruence among the cast successfully solidifies their ability to exploit one another, regardless of status.
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I don't know if there are any conclusions to be drawn from this, I just love talking. If you've made it this far - thank you for reading! I hope you found at least some of this interesting.
I'm always open and eager to discuss this topic, so please do let me know your thoughts - What are your favourite period drama costumes? What piece of costuming made you go OH JESUS WHAT IS THAT???
Anyway, thank you for going down this little rabbit hole with me - my asks are always open! <3
#history#period drama#period drama costumes#history posting#reign#the musketeers#bbc musketeers#the spanish princess#the buccaneers#becoming elizabeth#emma 2020#firebrand#bridgerton#the great#the favourite#historical fashion#historical costuming#costume design#helena has opinions
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Okay, I wanted to redo the makeup test I did here. I wasn't that satisfied with the contours and with the scar, so I was like: Let's do it again. And I fucked up with the scar. Just see yourself. But the contours! I'm really proud of them!
At this point, I just gave up. In the meantime, I tried to do my BF's makeup as Vernon Roche because he is sewing his chaperone in the background for the whole time.
By the way, this is him (without makeup), all proud of himself that he did his little weird towel.
Then I said that this is too cute for Vernon.
This is him after I told him to solve 847 ÷ 12. It worked. I'm satisfied. Every time we will do a photoshoot now he just has to divide.
So I did his makeup and came back to the scar and stuff. I used just a little bit of the clay that stayed on my face and let it be. I had no time left because of the light.
Since Tumblr does not allow two videos in one post, here you can watch the rest of it if you are interested:
By the way, this is how it looked when I worked with latex. I think I'll just do it like this till I figure out how to work with the clay.
Unfortunately, it took me so long that we were not able to make any proper photos. The light was already too low at this point. But at least we had some fun and tried the makeup. Enjoy the high-quality bathroom selfies in our dirty mirror.
Vernon in a deep sleep here.
Now you may ask: What is this mess? What it's doing here? Well, this was meant to be a cool post where we show you our summer versions of Rorveth (we are working on full costumes, but it takes so much time especially when we try to use as many historically accurate methods as we can - I can post some of the progress here if anyone is interested ), but since it took more time than intended and we are running out of time even with our summer costumes, I guess we have to wait till the convention (which is next weekend) to show you properly.
So I guess this is just a little teaser to show the Rorveth fandom here that we are actually working on something and it's going to be worth it!
With a photographer we agreed on doing some photos outside the convention area and I specially requested some "photos with feels and story behind them", so I really hope you'll like it! I count on this fandom! I've already asked you about Roche's tattoos and about other stuff and I love how the fandom lives here. (So, if you have any ideas or special requests on Rorveth summer/casual/no fight photos, I'm listening!!!)
And if you don't know me: Hi, I'm Klíště and I write terribly long posts and please someone stop me because on Tumblr I have no self-control.
#rorveth#iorveth#vernon roche#ioroche#Rorvethcosplay#please someone take tumblr out of my hands#this is getting out of control#and I still don't know how to properly use it#Cosplay
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Press Your Number: John Egan x OC
word count: 4.8k a/n: I couldn't resist trying my hand at a John Egan story even though I'm nervous about it lol. As will probably be my usual this isn’t as researched / historically accurate as it should be so sorry in advance. I'm really just going off the vibes tbh ! read on AO3
The sun was setting with only the smallest bit still hanging on above the tops of the surrounding trees. It would soon be too dark for Jacqueline to continue working but luckily she’d reached a comfortable stopping point. She climbed down her ladder and stepped away from the plane to look up at her work. Oddly enough Jacqueline felt more proud of her pinup girl on the side of the plane than any of the pieces she’d shown back in Paris.
Normally Jaqueline painted nature scenes. She hadn’t painted a person since university and had been nervous when Corporal Ken Lemmons told her what they wanted. But she had to admit that she’d done good. The painted blushing blonde looked full of life with her lips red and open in a playful pout. Jacqueline had worried whether or not the outfit was too risqué but she liked how the blue two piece swimming costume stood out against the plane’s sheet metal. It was eye catching. She hoped the men liked it just as much as she did. It still seemed like some sort of joke that she was getting to paint again. When she’d overheard Ken bemoaning having to paint designs on the planes she’d jumped at the opportunity before even introducing herself. She never thought that she’d be able to do this sort of thing when she transferred out to Thorpe Abbotts.
Jacqueline figured she still had a couple minutes of light left and climbed back up on the ladder with her paintbrush and palette in hand. The shading along the cleavage didn’t seem right no matter how many times she touched it up. She ached for proper paint but knew to keep her complaints to herself. She’d find a way to make it work, she always did.
“Now that’s a view worth writing home about.”
The voice came from behind Jacqueline and in her surprise she jerked forward and had to stretch out her hand to brace herself against the plane to steady herself.
“Take it easy now.” The voice was louder, closer. Whoever the speaker was, he was probably right below Jacqueline. She pushed off from the plane and steadied herself on the ladder.
“I’m good.” she assured him. After taking a breath she finally looked down.
The man she didn’t recognize had moved up closer to the plane to get a better look at her work. A quick study of the man had Jacqueline wishing she’d met him in different circumstances when she wasn’t wearing coveralls three sizes too big, hair all tucked up into a sweat stained hat, and hands covered in paint. He was tall with broad shoulders. He was wearing a white sheepskin jacket instead of the ones every one else seemed to prefer. His hair looked thick and Jacqueline’s fingers itched to run themselves through it. She thought she saw a mustache. She needed to get a better look at him.
“Do you like it then?” She asked, gesturing to the pinup with her head even though he wasn’t looking at her to see the gesture. Jacqueline thrived off of hearing what people thought of her art. She was greedy for any possible crumb of praise.
“She’s beautiful. Modeled off your broad back home?”
“No, I just dreamed her up.”
“It’s damn realistic to be something you just dreamed up, you must have practice at this sort of thing.”
“I don’t have a lot of practice in painting half naked women, no.”
“Could’ve fooled me!” The man stepped away from the plane and Jacqueline finally got a better look at him.
He was gorgeous. Jacqueline really wished she looked more presentable. She pushed her feelings aside and joked, “It’s the naked women we practice on, not clothed.”
“I knew it! You must be some sort of professional artist.”
“Oh no, please.” She shook her head. “I hate that idea. If you ask me there’s no such thing as a professional artist.” She knew she should stop there but instead continued, “Art is something you engage with, a conversation with something you tap into. An artist should always be open to continual growth and learning. An artist is a student, not a professional. Or at least if they’re a proper artist they wouldn’t consider themselves a professional.” Jacqueline let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry,” She raised her free hand not holding her paintbrush and palette and scratched at something on her cheek and along her jaw. She shrugged. “You were trying to pay me a compliment, it was rude of me to ramble. Thank you.”
When Jacqueline shifted to look back at the man she immediately met his eyes causing her to blush. His eyes were wide and after a brief moment of intense eye contact left her face to trace down her body. She felt his gaze as it went down to her hands in her lap. She burned as he worked his way back up to her face. It had been a while since a man had studied her like this and she hoped it turned into something as foolish as she knew it was to want. It was like his energy had changed completely and she didn’t know why. But she didn’t mind.
He smirked up at her, causing Jacqueline’s heart to skip a beat, and said, “It wasn’t rude no. Trust me, I love a good ol’ fashioned ramble.” He shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “I’m just realizing I was seriously misled on some key details.”
Jacqueline did nothing but stare at him, confused. He continued before she could figure out a response. “They said your name was Jack. I didn’t realize that was a nickname.”
Instinctively she tisked, “I told them to stop calling me that, it makes me sound like a boy. I hate nicknames.”
“If it’s not Jack then what’s your name?” He prodded.
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” She challenged with a smile.
“You can call me Bucky.” “Your mother named you Bucky?”
“My mother named me John but—”
“Lovely to meet you, John.” She stuck her free hand out and smiled wider when he took it in his own. “I’m Jacqueline.”
____
The officer’s club was full of laughter and music and men working off the restless energy that came with surviving another day. Normally Bucky would be right there with them, right in the thick of it. But he’d flown his first mission that day. He’d gone up and it hadn’t been anything like he thought. He couldn’t even remember what he thought it would be like. Bucky studied the glass in his hands. His hands had done terrible things that day, his hands were nothing like her’s. Nothing like Jacqueline.
For some reason Bucky hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. He’d never felt like this before, focused so much in on one woman. But he kept thinking about how delicate her paint stained hands looked and the way her scratching at a wayward piece of hair on her face made him realize that she was a woman and not a man like he’d been expecting. Bucky felt ridiculous for being so worked up over a broad’s hands but here he was, a mess. It had only been a couple of days but his thoughts kept coming back to the woman he hadn’t been able to find since meeting on the hardstand. The endless meetings with Colonel Huglin and various other staff hadn’t given him the free time he wanted to search for Jacqueline but at least that afternoon he’d worked out that she wasn’t a mechanic. His mistake had been assuming that her getup had been her uniform. Now he was back to square one.
A loud cackle broke through over the general noise of the crowd and Bucky couldn’t help but look for the source. There was a group of women by the corner of the dance floor and they looked like they were trying to contain one of them. Bucky watched and took in the view as they joked amongst themselves. The redhead, whose back had been to him, stepped out of the way and Bucky got a better look at the rest of the women in the group. Immediately his eyes jumped to the woman closest to the dance floor, the one with one hand on her hip while the other fanned at her face. She was wearing a rich blue dress that complimented her chestnut hair falling loosely around her face. He’d always liked the color blue but now he knew it was his favorite. She wasn’t wearing red lipstick like the rest of them but Bucky didn’t mind. She seemed to be entertaining her friends and making them laugh; he could tell from all the way across the room that she’d be the life of the party by his side. She was beautiful and Bucky needed to talk to her, needed to dance with her. Anything at all. He was a man starved.
But before he could make a move Lieutenant McDaniel was by his side and Bucky knew he was trapped. By the time he managed to get away from the conversation he’d lost her. Bucky kept his eyes peeled as the night went on, always looking over his shoulder. He’d catch glimpses but then she’d be gone before he could reach her. He couldn’t focus. He blamed his poor darts performance on the booze and joked that he’d come back around once he cleared his head. He wandered back over to the bar defeated. First he’d lost Jacquline and now he’d lost this mystery woman. If any of his guys found out he’d let them slip through his fingers they wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Bucky’s reputation would never recover. He needed to pull himself together. He downed the last of his drink in one go and asked for another. As he waited for his drink he turned to lean against the bar top and look out over the room. His heart skipped a beat.
There she was in the middle of a group of women settling down around a table across the hall. She sat down in the seat against the wall, the only one facing him directly. A wave of desire rushed over him, an overwhelming sense of longing that had Bucky feeling like a kid with his first crush.
“Major.”
Bucky turned around and accepted the drink the bartender was offering him. “Thanks.” He lifted the glass in a cheers motion then turned back around with his eyes immediately going back to the woman.
Something one of the girls said made her throw her head back in laughter again and Bucky instantly felt himself smiling along with her. The woman was a vision; Bucky wanted to have his way with her. She grabbed her hair all in one hand and pulled it up and away from her face. She fanned herself with the other, still laughing with her friends. When she pulled her hair back the woman had exposed the side of her face and neck so Bucky could now take in her full profile. He almost dropped his drink when he realized he knew that jawline. It was Jacqueline. He’d been eyeing Jacqueline all night and didn’t even realize. He could practically hear Buck in his ear teasing him for being such a fool.
Without thinking Bucky set his drink on the bar and headed straight for Jacqueline. One of her friends, the redhead, saw him first and elbowed Jacqueline in the side to get her attention. John felt something settle in him when she met his eyes; it felt so right to have her looking at him. He’d always loved attention but never had it hit so right than now.
“Jacqueline.”
“John.”
He reached out a hand. “Dance with me, doll?”
“Doll?” she cocked an eyebrow at the endearment but before Bucky could worry about being turned down she was pushing her chair out from the table and standing up. “I can’t promise I’m a good dance partner. I’ll probably step on your toes.”
“A worthy sacrifice to have you in my arms.” He pulled her onto the dance floor and twirled her around, smiling when she giggled as she spun.
“Smooth talker, are you?” Jaqueline said as she settled into his arms and followed his lead as they started to dance.
“I’m whatever I need to be when the situation calls.” he boasted.
Jacqueline laughed. “Spoken like a real American.”
Bucky looked down at her confused but defensive. “What’s wrong with speaking like an American?”
“Nothing at all! Just that you lot tend to act before thinking and seem to think you can handle everything on your own.”
Bucky was quick to heat with anger but took a second to consider what she’d said. “Where are you from, then? Because your accent sounds an awful lot like mine.”
“Alright, you got me.” Jacqueline winked at Bucky like she was letting him on a secret. “I’m a Yank like you.”
“Do you not consider yourself American?” He watched Jacqueline chew on her lip while thinking how to answer. Now that he had her up close Bucky was grateful Jacqueline had forgone the red lipstick for something closer to her natural lip color. He was having a hard enough time keeping his cool as it was. if her full lips were fully painted up Bucky wasn’t sure he had the self control to stay respectable.
“I spent most of my life over here.” She finally answered. “I can’t even remember the last time I was in the States.” she took another moment to think. “It was probably when my mother passed. No, it can’t have been that long, I had to have been back since then. But maybe… no. Hmm… Wow.” she blushed, probably embarrassed at her rambling, and shook her head. “I guess I haven’t been back in nine years? Almost ten.”
“That’s a long time to be away from home.”
“Not if it never felt like home to begin with.” Jacqueline said with an unbothered shrug.
“I can’t wait to figure you out.” Bucky said without thinking first. He quickly turned to look away from Jacqueline to hide his face in case he really was blushing like he felt.
“It’s still early days.” Jacqueline mused. “We’ve got time.”
The song ended and the pair separated to join in the applause for the band. A slower song started up and Bucky was quick to pull Jacqueline back against him before she could escape. She didn’t resist him and settled into his arms, leaning her head on his chest. The thing that had settled into him before dug itself deeper. He hadn’t felt like this since his first days learning to fly.
They danced without talking for a while until Bucky leaned down close to Jacqueline’s ear and whispered, “I looked for you, you know.”
“You looked for me?” she pulled slightly away stared at him with a look of bewilderment. “What do you mean? Why?”
“Because I wanted to see you.” he said honestly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Jacqueline mouth dropped open in surprise. She seemed to be lost for words and Bucky loved that. He loved throwing people off their game. He stared at her mouth and took note of the slight smudge of pale lipstick on the corner of her mouth. He wanted to kiss it. He cleared his throat and pushed down his instincts that were begging him to wrap Jacqueline fully in his arms and give into all temptation. He was going to take a page from Buck’s book and be a gentleman about this.
_____
Jacqueline was already at the bar when the Major came through the doors. A couple of cheers went up at his entrance and she couldn’t help but smile into her drink at the reaction. She loved the theatrics. But she’d done her research and she couldn’t believe she’d been so informal around someone with such a high rank. It didn’t make her want him any less, but it did intensify her nerves. Rank implied status and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get back into the world of status. She watched as he wove his way through the crowd. He didn’t stop talking for a second. Jacqueline wasn’t sure why she was so endeared by his working the room.
The couple next to her left the bar leaving more than enough room for him to come up next to her. Jacqueline set her glass down on the bar and tried to straighten herself up. She didn’t know what she was going to say to him. Should she wait for him to say something first? She was awful at intentional flirting. Jacqueline glanced over her shoulder and then whipped her head back around. He was almost at the bar and Jacqueline knew he was going to come up next to her. This was it.
But then he didn’t recognize her. Didn’t even spare her a glance. Jacqueline wanted to laugh she was so mortified but held it in. Based off of the rumors she really thought he’d at least look at her even if he didn’t start flirting. She took a deep drink of her gin and tonic as she listened to the Major order a pint and make small talk with the airman on his other side. Her body felt like it was on fire she was so hyperaware of her surroundings. She felt beyond silly for getting her hopes up that he would want to talk to her again. It had been such a brief thing; they’d barely talked. It didn’t matter how nicely she tried to put herself together, it didn’t matter how long she’d spent on her hair and makeup. Her first impression had come and gone. She’d lost her chance to blow the Major away.
“Another round? Gin and tonic, right?” The bartender asked as she finished off her drink.
“Please. Thank you.” She said with a smile but barely met the bartender’s eyes. As soon as she had her new cocktail she slipped away from the bar and into the crowd.
Her original plan of doing something — admittedly she hadn’t gotten far enough along to actually plan anything, she’d been counting on John to do most of the doing — was useless now so she figured to hell with it. She was going to enjoy her night with her girls. Her closest friends and coworkers, Ginny and Elizabeth, cheered when she returned to them. Jacqueline thanked her past self for not telling them about meeting the Major. She knew they would tease and end up repeating the stories that had started spreading through the base. It didn’t do her any good to think about all of the women John had slept with. Maybe it was for the best that Jacqueline was forgettable. She needed to keep thinking about him as the Major, not as John. He was just a nice man she’d met and that was that.
An hour later and her friends were all sitting around a table, laughing at Ginny’s imitation of their old supervisor. Jacqueline pulled all of her hair back from her face, twisted it around in her hand and held it up at the back of her head. With her other hand she fanned at her face. She’d worked up a sweat dancing and her hand was doing nothing to help her cool down. Jacqueline had just made up her mind to go out and grab some air since she was so hot, maybe she’d even turn in for the night, when Elizabeth elbowed Jaqueline in the side.
“What was—” Jacqueline’s voice broke off when she followed Elizabeth’s line of site and saw the Major walking towards them. He was looking right at her and when she met his eyes he grinned. The other girls at their table turned to see what Jacqueline and Elizabeth were staring at and the conversation had died by the time John reached their table.
“Jacqueline.”
She felt butterflies when he said her name.
“John.” She replied with a smile. Then she’d taken his offered hand and followed him out to dance floor.
She’d spent the rest of the night wrapped up in John’s orbit. Even when they weren’t dancing John had kept her close, a warm presence that Jaqueline didn’t mind despite hating the heat. Normally Jacqueline was only good at being lively and social at the beginning of the night, more often than not she would slip out early to sooth her introverted nature begging to be alone. But somehow she loved being constantly surrounded with John by her side. It was easy to maintain a smile and keep up with the jokes being thrown around with the weight of John’s arm around her waist.
Time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye and too soon John was walking her back to her hut, the perfect gentleman despite the rumors. Jaqueline wondered if this was what flying felt like; oddly enough she felt weightless with her arm wrapped around John’s.
“When can I see you again?” John asked when they were almost at her hut.
“It’s a small base, I’m sure we’ll run into each other.” she said coyly. Jacqueline didn’t have a lot of experience with men but she knew with men like John she had to hold her ground. “I’m sure you could find me if you really wanted.”
“Is that a challenge?” He sounded excited, like Jacqueline had given him some sort of gift.
“You think you can manage finding me?”
“I’ll manage it all for you, whatever you ask.”
John’s words were what Jacqueline had always wanted to hear from a man but she knew to be wary. “You should be careful saying things like that to a girl. She might get her hopes up.”
“And if I want her to?”
That took Jacqueline by surprise. She spluttered, “Then you should show her you care. Talk is useless if it’s just that.”
“Good thing I’m a man who acts.” And with that John twisted Jacqueline towards him. His hand went right to the side of her face and he cradled her jaw as he pulled her in for a kiss.
Jacqueline didn’t even pretend to be respectable. As soon as John’s lips were on her’s she was desperate for more. She pulled her arm out from being trapped between them and wrapped it around John’s back to bring him closer. It was clear he hadn’t expected Jacqueline to escalate the kiss but he was quick to match her energy. He moved his hand into the thick of her hair and Jacqueline couldn’t hold back her moan when he tugged at it to bring her closer to him.
Her moan seemed to snap John out of it and he ripped himself away from Jacqueline, breathing hard. He took a couple of steps back leaving Jacqueline standing there looking like some strung out floozy with slick lips and wide eyes. She figured she should be embarrassed by how scandalous she was sure to look but she couldn’t seem to care when John seemed to be just as out of sorts. They looked at each other in silence, their heavy breathing the only noise between them. And then they both started to laugh loudly into the night. John came back to Jacqueline’s side.
“I’ll come find you.” He promised with a kiss to the top of her head. Another to her forehead.
“I’m looking forward to it, Major.” She gave him a wave before entering her hut. She waited a minute until she let out a giggle and danced around the empty hut like the teenage girl she was feeling like.
Jacqueline spent the next day on edge waiting for John to pop up at any moment. She meant what she said: Thorpe Abbotts wasn’t a big base. There were only so many places one could hide and she wasn’t even trying to hide. But to her dismay John never showed. She felt like such a fool for getting her hopes up. Her mood the following day went from bad to worse when the forts started rolling in after the mission. Lieutenant McDaniel’s fort, the one John was flying on, hadn’t come back. John was gone.
That afternoon Jacqueline was lost in thought staring out the minuscule window. The forest around the base reminded her of the years spent in Switzerland even though the two looked nothing alike. She had been such a child back then; the world had been so big back when she was young and now Jacqueline felt so small standing in the corner of the switchboard room. She felt so naive for losing herself over a flyboy so quickly, especially one she barely knew. Her cousin had joked that Jaqueline would find herself a pilot and finally have one of those romances that inspired great art. Even her aunt had commented on the possibility of her work leading to producing something she never thought possible. But just because the first world war and her various lovers had inspired her aunt to write didn’t mean Jacqueline was the same. Jacqueline was nauseous thinking about using her heartbreak as inspiration. Maybe this was why she couldn’t consider herself a proper artist.
The sound of her coworkers arguing pulled Jacqueline from her thoughts. It was no surprise they were talking about her. Nor was it a surprise they would do so openly in front of her without care. After all the time they’d spent together the three of them didn’t hold anything back.
“At least she got out quick.”
“Bloody hell, Ginny. That’s awful to say.” Elizabeth dropped her nail file on the ground as she looked up scandalized.
“I’m just saying!” Ginny defended herself. “You can’t tell me that the heartache would be the same if they’d been together for ages. She’s better off this way!”
Elizabeth bent down to reach under her chair. She picked up her nail file and pointed it accusingly at Ginny. “But you don’t need to say that!”
“It’s important to see the bright side!”
“It’s also important to have more than a couple of hours to process losing someone. You of all people should know better.” Elizabeth chastised.
Ginny’s face went red with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “I was just trying to help.” She pouted, bitter that Elizabeth had poked at her sore spot. “It’s okay, Ginny.” Jacqueline stepped away from the window and turned back around to face her friends. She gave them a weak smile in an effort to assure them but she could tell from their faces it didn’t work.
Their office was small, enough room to maneuver around their chairs but not much beyond that. It felt as cramped as their switchboards looked. But luckily the girls knew how to make the space work, having worked together for almost two and a half years. When Jacqueline had been approached to transfer to Thorpe Abbotts until the Americans could get their crew up and running she said she’d only go if she could pick who would work underneath her. Ginny and Elizabeth hadn’t let her down and Jacqueline was beyond grateful she didn’t have to navigate this new world alone.
She plopped down into her chair and let out a deep sigh. “You’re both right, I suppose.”
“How’re you doing?” Elizabeth asked gently.
Jacqueline shrugged. “As expected.”
“I’m assuming you don’t want to get a drink with us then, after we get off?”
“No one’s getting off anymore.”
“Ginny!” Elizabeth, as always, was scandalized by Ginny’s comment but Jacqueline was laughing despite herself.
“I didn’t even get off to begin with.” She confessed after she stopped giggling.
“All that and you didn’t—”
“When would I have had the time to shag him?” Jacqueline asked with a tired sigh. “You know I haven’t seen him since.”
Ginny was quiet for a moment but then said, “At least you snogged.”
Jaqueline’s heart hurt as she thought about how John had looked at her when he pulled away from their kiss after he walked her back to her hut. “At least there’s that.” she sighed again.
An alarm rang out and the girls sprung to attention.
“I got it.” Jacqueline motioned for the other two to settle back into their chairs while she put on her headset. She connected the right wire then said, “Good afternoon, this is RAF Thorpe Abbotts. How may I direct your call?”
____
He thought it was a dream at first, that made he’d hit his head at some point during the mission and was losing it. But his gut told him he recognized the voice of the operator who answered his call. He cleared his throat.
“This is Major Egan. We’re out at—”
“John!” the voice was breathless and desperate just like he’d been dreaming. Straight out of his fantasizes and into reality. “Major, are you there?”
Bucky cleared his throat again and said with a laugh, “Does it count as finding you if I don’t see you?”
A loud laugh came through the phone and Bucky felt human again.
#I have no big picture plan for this project which is Terrifying !! but I just had to get this out of my head#sorry to those waiting for a billie/rosie update I'll get started on the next thing right away i promise !!!!#also shout out to katie aka softspeirs for giving me feedback and reassurances she's truly the best#rosiegirlie writes#masters of the air#masters of the air fanfiction#mota fanfic#mota fanfiction#john egan x oc#john egan fanfiction
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Pointing Out the Historical Inaccuracies (and Some Accuracies) of Ridley Scott's Napoleon 🤓
The only interesting parts of this film are the costumes, and maybe one or two music tracks. The rest of the movie is just awful. The story can hardly be called a story. It's just miscellaneous boring scenes duct taped together. None of the characters are developed beyond a single trait, if that. A period this broad shouldn't have been crammed into a movie this short. I honestly wouldn't have disliked the historical inaccuracy so much if it had been sacrificed for the sake of a good narrative, but this is bad. Even if you don't know about the era enough to nitpick it, I wouldn't recommend this film to anyone.
TL;DR go watch Waterloo or The Duelists instead.
Accurate Historical Details
There were some minor details that made me perk up like, "Ah, yes! It did happen like that!" The rest of the movie is so inaccurate that these details stuck out.
Napoleon tugged on peoples' ears as a sign of affection. You see this in the movie with Tallyrand and Josephine. He also did this a lot with his soldiers, which we don't see in the film. In fact, he doesn't interact with his soldiers much at all in the film.
The French fired a 101-cannon salute after Napoleon's first son was born.
Napoleon famously bumbled at the Coup of 18 Brumoire, and his brother Lucien had to step in to direct the French grenadiers.
It's contested whether or not Robespierre actually shot himself in the jaw, but I think at this point it's mostly accepted as truth? In any case, someone screwed up his jaw before he was arrested.
The British loved publishing political cartoons about Napoleon, including cartoons of him being cucked.
Joséphine did actually meet Tsar Alexander shortly before her death. I didn't know about this one and was happy to learn something new.
The depictions of line and square formations were okay.
Historical Inaccuracies
This is, in spite of its budget, one of most historically inaccurate pieces of media I've seen on the era, and on top of that it isn't even good.
There is so much historical context omitted from this film that I feel like anyone who doesn't have an interest in the time period will have NO idea what's going on. You are never really given the how and why of history other than "the Europeans are fighting and also Napoleon is there."
The overall characterization of Napoleon is just bizarre. Napoleon was smart, egotistical, ambitious, hot-tempered, and had a magnetic charisma and human charm that inspired a kind of blind loyalty in his soldiers. This is why he was so successful - and so dangerous. Napoleon never feels threatening or sinister in this film. He's just kind of there, slouching and sweating and mumbling under his breath as history unfolds. Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure does a better job of depicting Napoleon than whatever the hell is going on here.
Napoleon was not present at the beheading of Marie-Antoinette.
He didn't have his horse shot out from under him at Toulon, and he didn't send gore-spattered cannonballs to his mother, as far as I know.
The movie casts a younger actress to play Joséphine de Beauharnais, but Joséphine was actually older than Napoleon.
I'm pretty sure that Napoleon didn't find and return the sword of Joséphine's ex-husband, although there is a legend stating that he attempted to confiscate it and was persuaded by Joséphine's son to return it.
The French army never shot their cannons at the Pyramids in Egypt. They also didn't loot the Pyramids, although they participated in a lot of heinous looting elsewhere.
Napoleon didn't leave Egypt because he found out he was being cucked by his wife - he'd already known about that for some time. He left Egypt because the campaign was failing and because the political situation in France was becoming untenable.
Jacques-Louis David attended the coronation of Napoleon, but didn't start his studies for the painting during the coronation itself. (At least as far as I know.)
The lake scene during the Battle of Austerlitz is a bit of a legend, but probably not true. The gigantic lake was more likely a series of shallow ponds, if it existed at all.
Napoleon did not lead cavalry charges, and he sure as shit didn't lead cavalry charges at the Battles of Borodino or Waterloo. In fact, Napoleon infamously sat a safe distance away while watching the bloody Battle of Borodino unfold.
Napoleon was not exiled following the Russian campaign. He was exiled after the War of the Sixth Coalition, in 1814.
Joséphine died in 1814, when Napoleon was still at Elba, not in 1815.
Trench warfare and scoped muskets were not used at the Battle of Waterloo.
Napoleon never met the Duke of Wellington.
That's uh. The cut version of my complaints.
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Near Zero part 3.
PAIRING: cillian murphy as j. robert oppenheimer x fem!reader
SUMMARY: 1.9k words. Brought on as part of the Manhattan Project, your old physics professor sees you in a new light.
RATING: E; explicit smut, barebacking, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, age gap (10+ years), angst, infidelity, period-typical sexism
A/N: Though based on real life characters, this is J. Robert Oppenheimer as played by Cillian Murphy, a fictional character. This is not intended to be historically accurate, merely written as entertainment. Thank you to @indulgence-be-thy-name for being the best cheerleader. Not a lot of plot this time but I thought the first time smut deserved its own chapter. Enjoy! 🖤
masterlist
The shame you feel is like a nausea that soon morphs into a cold rage. So cold that it burns you, making you isolate yourself all over again, despite the mixer being a genuinely enjoyable experience.
You barely wave when you see Mary one morning two days after Dr. Oppenheimer looked straight through you. You physically recoil at the idea of speaking to her or Barb for any length of time, shaking your head as you speed down the street with your pocketbook.
Luckily, no-one speaks to you, so you have no reason to speak, either. You wear your most non-descript clothes, not wanting any attention whatsoever. To be invisible on purpose is better than trying to be seen only to be rejected like the other day. He had made you feel important, and you, the idiot that you are, believed him.
If you thought about it long enough – and you have tried not to for years – you are lonely. You’re so lonely that it makes a unique kind of grief. You don’t recall a time when you didn’t feel like this. You can’t let yourself dwell too much, or you’ll combust. And you need to keep going. You need to work, to have a purpose. You can’t go home. It doesn’t feel like there’s a home to go to anymore.
Your guts churn every time you think Oppenheimer is about to walk into the laboratory. You consider faking illness, but you’re weak enough as it is to the men in your group; to give them more ammunition would be a mistake.
The cold rage stays there, and the work cannot get rid of it. You wait for your mind to clear, but it remains the same, equations forever swimming around, along with dark thoughts you would never name aloud. You stay at your desk many hours after everyone else calls it a day, and you walk home alone at night.
For three nights, it’s the same. The fourth night, you write basic chemistry equations to solve, ones you remember from high school, the movements so practiced that you don’t pause for minutes at a time, your hand hurting from how hard you grip the chalk. Your writing becomes less legible with effort, and you regret so many things when you step back, the board full. You should start again, write more neatly, empty the ashtray. You should leave, you should take a big sleeping pill and lie down.
You hear footsteps and know who it is before you turn around, your stomach dropping, your hands balling into fists at your sides.
“I hoped it wasn’t you.”
“No-one else here but me,” you reply, gaze slipping up to Oppenheimer’s face, and you swallow. “It’s always me.”
“The light was on, I-”
“Whatever you have to say,” you interrupt, turning back to the board, picking up the eraser. “I’m sure it can wait for tomorrow when you have a larger audience.”
You begin clearing it all away, hating that he saw your equations, your sloppy hand. You put the eraser back with an audible clatter. Your carelessness leads to it falling to the floor, but you don’t pick it up. You don’t care about whatever he has to say, either. It’s all just noise.
“Okay.”
He sounds defeated, and you shoot him a glance. It’s nighttime and he’s wearing his hat, like some kind of costume. He’s a phantom, prowling around his town. Of course he walked straight past you the other day, he has so much more to do.
“Why are you here?” you ask before you lose your nerve.
Your eyes lock and your heartbeat ricochets. He takes a couple steps, but you continue:
“I mean, you’re married, right?”
You haven’t met Kitty, but everyone knows her. You can’t avoid her if you know Dr. Oppenheimer. Mentioning her might be a mistake, but all of this already feels dangerous, bordering on idiotic. He could expel you, find some way to snuff out your career, too. You’re reckless, and you never have been before, so it’s hard to know when to stop.
“Yes,” he replies. His jaw tenses. “I came here because I was out walking. Again.”
“And you happened to see the light and decided to come up?” you throw back. It comes out as a petulant sneer.
“I was looking for you. I didn’t want to stay away anymore.”
Your face flushes. A week ago, his words would have made you swoon. Now, you grit your teeth.
“So you charm me, then you ignore me. And now you expect me to believe that you’re suffering some kind of… some kind of burden because of me? That you were sparing me?”
“We work together,” he says, and his tone is completely different.
He’s speaking to you like he does the men he argues with. You’ve seen it from a distance many times before. Even if you hadn’t, you’d heard stories.
“We… we work together?” you repeat, and you half-laugh. “So if I was someone’s wife, that would be preferable?”
“Yes, it would,” he says, and he watches you scoff.
His eyes never leave you. He’s determined.
“But you can’t say away?” you say.
“No.”
He takes the few last strides to meet you and reaches for your waist, hands catching you to bring you into a swift kiss. You close your eyes on impact, gasping, and he doesn’t let go, moving you both towards the desk. Your legs hit the wood and you take hold of his face, fingers splayed on his high cheekbones, opening your mouth to him as he conquers you with his hot tongue. You moan, the sound slipping out as his thigh presses between your thighs, pinning you.
He suddenly pulls back with a smack of your lips, his eyes searching you, his hands cradling your face like yours are his.
“You’re not seeing Richard?”
Your mind reels, his breath on your lips as you pant, screwing up your face in confusion.
“Feynman?” you say, and he nods. “That’s absurd-”
“You’re not?”
“No, I’m not,” you insist. You blink. “Were you jealous?”
You remember the mixer and how Feynman had joked around with you. He spent a lot of the night near you, but he was never friendly in that sense. You didn’t know if he was spoken for, but he never treated you like a potential target.
You are half-joking but see Oppenheimer’s eyes narrow ever so slightly.
“You were jealous…”
The thought of him being possessive of you is strange, and somehow flattering. It’s entirely foreign.
“You ignored me because you thought something happened,” you muse, and it doesn’t stop feeling bizarre. “You were that upset?”
“It was cowardly of me,” he says. “And it’s silly.”
“It’s so silly,” you agree, and he kisses you again.
He groans when you suck on his tongue, renewing your courage. The desire ignites in your belly, pulling you deeper down. His touch, beginning to show a kind of desperation, makes you wet, and you moan against his lips, feeling him press into the apex of your thighs.
He pushes you down, hands shifting up to your wrists, his whole front pressing into yours, his lips breaking contact to hover above you. His eyes are addictive in how they rove you beneath him.
“Are you still upset?” you tease, and he shakes his head, for the first time smiling.
“No.”
Your voices drop to whispers, and the intimacy of that makes you weak. You jut your chin at him.
“Can you take off your hat?”
He obliges, freeing your wrist for a second, before he’s back again, staring at you. You can feel how hard he is through his trousers that press into your crotch, your heart hammering. If someone were to walk in, there’d be no explaining this away.
“Come here,” you whisper.
He kisses you again, and you wrap your thighs around his narrow waist, your tongues tangling. He groans once more, and lets you slip out of his grip to help undo his belt, his fingers deftly pulling down his fly. You reach inside his pants to feel the hard length of his cock and he give a huff of a laugh against the corner of your mouth, pushing you back down, his hands slipping down your sides and then up under the bottom of your dress.
You shiver as his fingers glide up your thighs. Stockings are hard to come by, your bare skin breaking out in goose bumps all over.
It’s been a long time since a man touched you. It’s never been like this, so electrified. Your nerve endings alight when he meets the cut of you over your underwear, finding you soaking through the cotton. He grunts, pushing aside the offending material to reach your cunt, your gasp smothered by another rushed kiss. Your hands no longer attempt to stroke him, he’s distracting and precise, filling you with two fingers, as you ride his palm.
“Fuck…”
This isn’t a dream. If it were, you’d be awake already. When you fantasize about this, he never gets this far. You climb, his lips peppering your cheek as you rock, his thumb rubbing your clit, your body tightening. His teeth graze your jaw and your back bows.
“Come, my darling,” he whispers. “Come for me…”
You explode, vision whitening as he brings you off, your hands gripping his arms to keep you steady. You ride it out, thighs shaking as he pulls back to look you in the eye.
“How was that?” he murmurs, and he’s smiling again.
He’s so beautiful when he smiles. You kiss him instead of answering, still twitching deep inside. His fingers slip away, sticky on your thighs as he widens them.
In a rush, you lift your hips to pull your underwear down, while he rearranges his own to free his cock, and then he’s there, he’s right there –
He grunts as he pushes inside you, your arms wrapping around his neck to kiss him, to pull him back down. He rocks, filling you, and you both still, sighing.
“You feel incredible,” he whispers, and you grin up at him. “Are you alright?”
“Better than alright,” you whisper back.
He moves again, almost all the way out before slamming into you, both of you groaning. The delicious drag of him makes you tremble and moan, your head falling back against the desk as he picks up speed.
“Don’t finish in me,” you whisper, and he nods, his breaths turning to pants.
He buries his face in your neck, and you hold on for dear life, taking everything, feeling as if you are floating above your body with how reckless he becomes so quickly. He pulls back at the last second, kissing you, one hand gripping your jaw.
He comes, sweat on his forehead, and you pant along with him, dazed.
For several moments, you say nothing, resting together, still lying on the desk. He peels away, offering to help you up. You pull your underwear back on, and he tidies himself. You wait for the other shoe to drop, but he takes out two cigarettes, lighting them both and inhaling them before handing you one.
“Can I walk you home, now?” he whispers.
He’s so quiet, so utterly elsewhere in that moment that you stare at the side of his face, smoking, before he finally looks at you, hopeful.
“Yes,” you whisper back, exhaling.
Let me know if you like this one! Thank you for reading. 😘❤️
#oppenheimer x y/n#oppenheimer x reader#j robert oppenheimer#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy x reader#fem reader#near zero
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so we all know that the samantha movie messes around with the canon of samantha’s stories (the location of the mount bedford house, alice pitt seemingly morphing with agatha, etc.), but it wasn’t until this watch that i noticed that it potentially changes the dates of when grandfather edwards and samantha’s parents died. as mentioned in this post, grandmary seems to be wearing mourning clothes in the beginning of the movie, which indicates that someone must’ve died in the past couple of years. i’m sure if someone tried to analyse her costumes for Historically Accurate Mourning, they’d fall short, but since we don’t see her in any outfit that is not predominately black until the church scene (and from there out we never again see her in black), i’m working under the assumption that grandmary was meant to be understood as being in mourning for the first half of the movie.
but the question then becomes, for who? because we later learn that the admiral has been asking grandmary to marry him for twelve or so years, which means that grandfather edwards’ death has already been shifted around. according to the ag wiki, he died somewhere after sam’s parents in the books (presumably when she was about six or seven since grandmary is distinctively not in mourning when we meet her in the first book). the ag wiki could of course be wrong about this, since i simply have no idea where that info came from, but regardless, when it comes to the movie, grandmary’s in mourning but it’s not for her husband.
which leaves me with the conclusion that samantha’s parents died much more recently in the film than they did in the books. this does work within the other info we have about their deaths in the film i.e. how long ago it happened is never brought up and samantha seems to have a lot more memories about them than she does in the books.
of course, it is also possible that grandmary’s mourning-esque costuming was meant to just be a shorthand for the character development she goes through, so in that case sam’s parents could’ve died at the point we know them to have in the books and she could just still be struggling to move past the event. but regardless of what way you interpret it, the movie seems to be interested in the effect these deaths have had on the parkington/edwards family in a way that the fairly fractured series wasn’t capable of doing
#samantha parkington#american girl#ag#agblr#american girl doll#from my slate#samantha: an american girl holiday#grandmary#admiral beemis
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Top Ten TV
Rules: Game: Add 10 gifs from your favorite shows and tag 10 people.
I was tagged by @godmerlin Thank ya so much! SOO
My love! My favorite! I adore you so much! Merlin until recently was a show I would rewatch every year. THEN one of my RP servers when down for months and my mind was like HEY YOU NEED DOPAMINE KNOW THAT SHOW? It's a special intrest now. Merlin and Arthur were always my favs. But I read two merthur fanfics, realized hey this actually worked, watched the show with new eyes, decided to write a small oneshot. And then It was not a one shot, And then there was a sequal and a prequal... then I was writing more stuff! This show showed me I could write again after a long time thinking I could not.
My second favoirite show is Avatar the Last Airbender I guess and my fav character is actually Aang. I like his nonconfrontationalness I kinda also have that trait and you do not often see it in fiction.
(Now from here on out they don't really have an order?
I really like the show The Tudors. I don't require historical accuricy in shows about the time period that is a special interst to me. I can enjoy the shows seperatly and be like that did not happen! But the tudors is weard because it is very much NOT historicaluy accurate as a whole but somtimes, Dialouge and scenes are pretty much ripped from the firsthand acounts of the period. This is also the show were both Natalie Dormer and Henry Cavill got their start. Fun fact Katie McGrath was actually working on costume design on this show and someone told her she should try acting. She got a very small role in the show then went on to land Morgana in Merlin. ALSO this show makes me cry so MUCH
I didn't get into Shadow and Bone on my first try. After season two aired I tried is again with a freind of mine and loved it. I'm so upset it was canceled!
With Brigerton I actually started with the Spin off Queen Charlotte (I'm counting spin offs and their original show as the same show usually so I can have more shoes listed here WHEEEE.) Anyhoo Queen Charlotte won me over with it having a romantic male lead with mental Ilness. and I enjoyed it! So I watched Brigerton too. Eloise is pretty much teenage me.
The boys and Gen V got me with its plot and commantary on American society. Alright it kinda helps that I've never really liked the idea of super heros. This is pretty much the only superhero media I consume along with one animated show my sister had me watch once. My favorite from the original Series is Hughie and my fav from Gev V is Jordan.
Okay so yeah! Dr Who. I stopped watching shortly after 11 left and came back for 14 and 15. My fav doctors are 11 and 15 so far! I adore Martha and Donna the best.
So The Last Kingdom was a show that my freind really liked and we watched together. I hated Uhtred in season 1 but came to enjoy him later. I LOVED These two in the gif, I WAS HERE FOR THEM SHIPPING THEM IN THE LAST SEASON. You know how that turned out if you watch the show. I have never hated on a character as much as I did on a certain king. THEM. <3
I am very much enjoying House Of The Dragon. I was a GOT fan until the end season even if it started going downhil before that. No I am not team black or team green. I can see both viewpoints. So I'm just here to watch people freak out over it. And enjoy it myself. And Cheer for Healana while waiting in dred due to having read the book it's based on. I'm upset the seem to have gotten rid of Nettles though.
Derry Girls is the show on this list I watched most recently. I did not really like the first episode but from there I adored them all. Clare and Orla are my Favs. But the entire cast is great.
@shana-rosee @tiny-and-witchyn @poisonedfate @theroundbartable @247merthur
@saurix5 @akelafang @kairenn-n @kadenemrys @pendragonsclotpole
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LWA: This is just a mini-ask, but I've seen people comment before on Crowley's waiter jacket, and while the lapels are genuinely different from the others, the rest of the look, as far as I can tell, is because Crowley /does not understand how to wear it/. From the way it is draping at the front, he has the hanging loop attached--which you should not do while actually wearing the jacket!--and the sides aren't shorter, but tucked into the cummerbund. Which also, no. I'm pretty sure this is supposed to be a deliberate costuming parallel to Gabriel's own misadventure in suit jackets, where he has neglected to cut open the back vent. Aziraphale and Crowley are more humanized than their employers, but they are still "off."
to be honest with you, LWA, mini/silly asks are very welcome at the moment!!! the details on crowley are really cool, and to my shame i'd never really paid much attention to it!!! it's not so obvious in this post (in fact i don't think the jacket is closed here, there's too big a gap?) but by 'hanging loop', im guessing that you mean this little clasp thing going on here?
(also love the detail of what i think is a FiH knot, as opposed to the other servers, who im guessing are sporting half, maybe full, windsors. iconic)
as for the cummerbund disaster... from the back it definitely looks bunched and bulky, or at least the shirt definitely is (which in itself... yeah, negates the whole point of it - is it even sat in the right place?? looks like it should sit a smidge higher??) but from the bottom right, the cut of the jacket would suggest it's not long enough to be standard length, and the front finishes, and angles up, in a cropped shape at the waist (more like the front of a very high tailcoat cut?)... odd:
edit because ive just looked at this again - it does quite literally seem like it's a tailcoat cut, and he's tucked the tails into the cummerbund? crowley wtf are you doin my love you're an enigma
regardless of the specifics though, crowley in particular dressing just slightly out-of-place is a really cool detail, especially in his historical dress; people always remark on aziraphale's clothing being slightly - or completely- out-of-touch, but crowley in his own manner dresses slightly off as well, absolutely.
slightly unrelated, and took me a hot minute to find it, but this overview of his rome attire is an example of awesome details demonstrating that crowley might not blending in as much as he intended. and bernadette banner's (1:26:45) review of their 1827 dress was really interesting too, indicating that crowley oftentimes dresses 'ahead of the time'. its plausible that crowley would just dress in a way that he thinks is accurate, but from a human's perspective is just completely foreign, and whether his attire just happens to be noticed by the right people, or its another subconscious (demonic?) power-of-influence thing, what seems to be slightly incorrect dress for the exact, specific period suddenly becomes trend-setting fashion.
but then again, we get his nanny costume, which the book chalks that up to him having watched mary poppins; goes to show that sometimes crowley doesn't quite recognise the shift in time period where dress is concerned, and instead takes the pop culture idea of what a nanny would dress like, and runs with it.
i like the thought that gabriel (and maybe all the angels, when they visit earth, to varying degrees) might dress a little strangely/have some faux pas going on, but got to confess - can't spot where gabriel's vent stitches might still be tacked? from what i can see, in s1 he has a double-vented jacket that appears to be open, and then in s2 has a ventless/ double-pleated vent jacket? possibly? (@everyone timestamps most welcome; i was scouring both seasons half asleep at 2am)
seems like he still has them tacked in his coat though which, yeah, is a really amusing detail:
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Oh yeah, I made this last night
I was complaining yesterday about how I can’t draw, and while I tried and failed to draw traditionally (I think I’ve been out of practice too long and I can’t adjust to the layout of it not being right in front of my face at the same angle, if that makes sense), I decided maybe I can try drawing these guys again
I’m pretty happy with how the main trio turned out in this redesign, I think I was able to give them all distinct looks
Cassidy got some changes, Rasmus pretty much stayed the same other than a permanent ponytail, and Rowan's hair got completely changed. Mostly because I wanted to make his hair have a more distinct shape
I still need to come up with new names for them though. Best I got is Rowan becomes Rusty, but I don’t know for the other two. All I know is that in another world, Cassidy would be Peppermint, or some other variation of mint
Anyways, a while ago I was considering changing the setting of the story to be cowboy themed. It was mostly because at the time, a Discord I was on was making a Cookie Run cowboy AU that I really like, but also because the story never had a clear time period setting. It was part modern day, part fantasy, and I never really got it to be consistent
Though the big problem is that I’m pretty unfamiliar with cowboys and how they operate. Which is ironic because I’ve been living in Texas for over a decade. But like, I’ve never been that interested in Westerns or that cowboy stuff, probably in part because I heavily dislike country music. So I don't really know much about the era other than Victorian times were also happening
I would also have to change some things around so that they fit in the time period, most importantly the whole situation with Rasmus and the others. I'm thinking maybe I can turn that from science experiment to witchcraft and have magic be more of a thing, since they are meant to have magic
I've given a little thought into how the story works now, like that these three got hired either to drive cattle to a certain area or keep watch of a ranch. I guess if they got to travel, then the former, but if I just want them to hang out, then the latter. Former's probably better though, since if I want to make an actual plot, there's your overarching goal
I think I need to do more research on the time period though, so I know what I'm doing. Though also this isn't going to be like, completely historically accurate. I mean these guys are fictional goat thing people with magic powers. I don't think something like the Civil War happened recently, and I'm not sure I want sexism to be a prevalent thing in the plot. And I think I also personally I need that reminder since sometimes I forget that I can give myself wiggle room
In that vein, the cattle are probably also semi fictional, or at least maybe they shouldn't be exactly the same as real cows. I don't know, I feel like it'd be really jarring to have normal cows alongside brightly colored goat people
Anyways I trailed off, back to the actual drawings
So because of the cowboy consideration, I tried to sketch out outfits they could wear. As well as body types (though they didn't turn out as varied as I'd like). Cassidy and Rasmus I think are fine, but Rowan might need more tweaking. I also need more cowboy refs, especially ones that aren't just costumes or AI pictures in Google Images
Then afterwards I decided to start sketching some of the other characters I've made up. Which just so happen to be the parents of the main characters. Who also have names because I came up with the naming scheme at that point
Top to bottom is Periwinkle, Basil and Silver
Of those three, I think Periwinkle turned out the best, but for one thing, she's been in my mind much longer than the other two, so I have a much clearer idea of what she's supposed to look like. And on top of that, I've actually drawn her before, so I know what to change. Basil and Silver are very much first drafts, and first drafts are usually not the best when it comes to designing new characters. No wonder redesigns of characters usually end up better than the original, since you have a base design where you already know what works and doesn't, as opposed to working from the ground up
And with Silver, I made it a point that he and his son don't look anything alike other than both having darker hair, so I quite literally had nothing to work with, unlike Basil or Perri
I'm also realizing that I've made a pattern with the parent designs, namely that all three of the main characters pretty much exclusively look similar to their moms. I suppose you can't tell much here, since Rasmus was born green but got changed via the experimentation, while I drew Silver, Rowan's dad that he looks nothing like, with the mom he does look like not being depicted. But yes, Cassidy and her bio mom are blue, Rasmus and Basil are green, and Rowan and his mom are red
Periwinkle and Cassidy are probably the two who look the most distinct from another, in part because they're two different shades of blue. Which is ironic because in my more recent working of this world, I made it a point that Perri's family has crazy strong genes, with everyone in the family (outside of marriage) is blue. I might have to take that out or just change how this works
I mean with Rowan, I don't really know how to change it, since his dad's family is all in the greyscale, so him being red would have to come from his mom. And with Rasmus, his parents are supposed to be green and red, with the idea that it's plausible that he could turn out brown, while in reality he was born green. But I mean I guess I could turn him a more yellow-ish green? I don't know, I'll figure it out
And uh yeah, I guess that's it. Not really anything that remarkable, but at least I drew something
#I really need to figure out new names for these characters#but I don't know what to change their names to#and no one will answer me when I ask#anyways#original characters#original story#capra#cassidy#rasmus#rowan#this thing needs a name#character redesign#cowboy#my art
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Voyager rewatch s1 ep12: Cathexis
Another one I didn't remember at all, this one was quite exciting to watch. Voyager's first 'crew getting possesed by aliens' story, it's another one of those episodes that's pretty much a copy of an earlier Next Generation episode, but it was well done, and very creepy and suspenseful. I like the way they played up the crew's paranoia to add to the tension. And it was the first time we get to see Captain Janeway's Victorian governess holonovel, which is one of my favorite things, and not just because I'm tickled that Captain Janeway shares my taste in literature, but because she looks absolutely gorgeous in period costume. Like, let me fangirl for a moment here, because look at this perfect vision of beauty, oh my god:
I want her whole outfit, it's perfect. Major kudos to the costume designer for giving her an historically accurate dress and hairstyle. As someone who used to do a lot of historical costuming, I'm very nitpicky about those things, but this is a good costume on every level- beautiful design, well fitted to the actress, fits the character's personality, absolutely nothing anachronistic about it anywhere. 10/10, no notes! I need to cosplay this so bad!!
Okay, I'm done being a costume nerd, back to the episode itself: I appeciated that they mentioned the EMH being programmed with knowledge of various cultures traditional healing practices instead of just having him dismiss Chakotay's medicine wheel as superstition. While I have issues with the wheel prop itself not looking very realistic, I do like that they made a point to say that Earth's medical establishment will become more open minded and inclusive in the future. (But the artwork on the wheel looked central or south american, and I'd always thought Chakotay was supposed to be from the north american southwest- it says a lot about how much the writers didn't care about him that after 7 years of episodes, I still have no idea what continent he's even from. sigh.)
Also lol at Tom Paris talking about how when he was a kid he had a doctor that made housecalls- who the heck has that even now, let alone in the 24th century?? I think this was probably where I started to get the headcanon that the Paris family is super rich- like I know that Earth is supposed to be a utopia with no poverty, but I feel like rich people with inherited wealth would keep on living in their fancy houses in their gated communities, and Tom Paris strikes me as being a privileged kid who grew up in a big house with a swimming pool and a tennis court, who spent his youth riding around in his expensive car (or would it be a shuttlecraft?? do rich people have their own shuttles on earth??) and being a slacker/prankster king at his fancy prep school like a 24th century Zack Morris. (I know I read Pathways back when I was a teenager, and it may have mentioned something about his childhood, but I don't remember any of it, and novels aren't technically canon in Star Trek universe, so I'm sticking with my rich kid Tom Paris headcanon.)
More of Neellx being possessive of Kes in this episode, ughhhh.
I didn't remember that they gave background crewmember Lieutenant Durst a pretty prominent supporting role in this episode. Obviously it was meant to make his subsequent death more impactful, but it was anyway, since I still remember him for getting killed off. (I probably don't have to give spoiler warnings for a decades old show, but spoiler: he dies in the very next episode.)
Anyway, tl;dr: a solid alien possession episode.
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(inspired by the calendar asks)
The gang's following through with a hilarious yet genius money-making idea from the minds of businesswoman Maia Simmon and the photographer Mason Weaver: slutty themed calendars. The titans were getting all dolled up for the shoot (by which I mean getting dressed in various degrees of slutty costumes). The theme? Historical. Honoring the congruent histories of Titans and humans. The titans were the main focus, obviously- but the Monarch staff would be accompanying them as either supporting or background actors. As of right now; only Ichi, San, and Ni were ready to go- dressed as what Maia dubbed the Gold Triumvirate. Each was wearing a Roman-themed outfit of flowing red capes, golden wreath crowns, shoulder togas that make zero attempt to hide their fantastic abs, the equivalent of a see-through red rag as a skirt (ones that would 1000% reveal everything underneath with just the right lighting), and sandals.
Ichi: This is fucking ridiculous.
Maia: Hm. Figured you'd like the crown.
Ichi: Crowns' not the fucking problem. It's everything else. Not even historically accurate! Who would wear these??
Ni: Oh, I dunno, maybe someone trying to get 5 champion gladiators to notice them at a function?
Ichi growls deeply at Ni. Ni's testing the movement afforded to him by the outfit while San's admiring his cape.
Ni: I gotta say, though, insane that people actually get paid for this. I mean, what? Pose in front of that device a few times and we make bank? Why didn't we do this sooner?
San: Cuz we never thought like that! Imagine all the cash we coulda been getting by tapping into human sexuality! Fuck it, screw money; imagine how much fun we'd have taking mates back then like we are now!
He accentuates by planting a kiss on Maia's cheek. Ichi visibly cringes and snorts in annoyance. Ni just chuckles.
Ni: Y'know, any other day I'd trash you for being a soft bitch for nuzzling up to a little fleshy toy like her- but the longer I spend down amongst humans, the more I actually find myself starting to agree a tad...
Maia: Uhh- is that a compliment?
Vivienne: Maybe, maybe not- but what it is is definitive proof that our coexistence campaign is working! Getting other humans on the coexistence/titanfucking train again is important- but it's gotta go both ways. Getting 2/3rds of Ghidorah on our side is huge for us!
Maia: You're correct. Now all that's left is the sour puss that's the last third.
Ichi: Y'know what, asswipes? F-
He stops himself when he feels his scales start to heat up a bit. He sits back down on a nearby chair and plants his chin in his palm.
Ichi: Ugh- nevermind.
The group doesn't really have the time to focus on the outburst as Rodan, Mothra, and the Skullcrawlers walk through the doors. Rodan's in feathery tribal wear that only seems to accentuate his musculature, the crawlers are all only wearing loincloths and elaborate necklaces, and Mothra's in a low-hanging kimono cut at the thigh and neck that makes basically everything very visible.
Vivienne: Holy mother of-
Rodan: Yeah hah hah~ do I look good or do I look good?
Vivienne instantly bum-rushes right past Rodan and to Mothra.
Mothra: Hey... Gosh this thing is so loose- do I look good?
Vivienne: You partially blinded me on your way in.
Mothra: That a good thing?
Vivienne: The gods made you to ruin me.
Mothra: Ok... probably a good thing given the drool.
Rodan: Awww- I look good too, right??
Ni's throws an arm around Rodan's head and holds him in a playful headlock.
Ni: Aww- of course you do, little bird! Ya look like you're just itching to have someone ravage you.
While Rodan fights back against Ni's play-fighting, the door swings open again and out comes Shimo and Kong. Kong's dressed in Iwi wear cut to accentuate his chest and leg muscles, and Shimo's wearing some very breezy armor and fur meant to make her look like a viking lost half her clothes.
Vivienne: I'm gonna have a heart attack before we're done here.
Maia, Andrews, Ilene, Ling, & Mason: Saaaaaaaaame.
Mothra: Hey, where's Goji? Wasn't he with-
Kong: He was- having some trouble with his outfit. There were a lot of strings to tie...
Maia: Ah- right. Probably shoulda thought that through-
Then, the door opens one last time as the large form of Godzilla steps out. Like Kong said, the entire outfit is very stringy. Like Ghidorah, he's got a crown- only his is decorated with myriad sea-stones (sadly fake, but still convincing). He's dressed in what historians assume the Kings of Atlantis would dress in, only lacking a top and barely any bottoms to speak of. An aqua cape drapes over his shoulders and his hair is in a ponytail behind his head. As soon as he walks in and sees everyone in their costumes- his eyes go wide. They dart from Viv to Mothra to Kong to Shimo to Ghidorah to Rodan to the Crawlers, on and on until he's blushing fiercely. Everyone looks at him and does the exact same.
Godzilla: Holy-
Vivienne: Fucking-
Godzilla: Shit.
Looks like Mason's gonna need to get the shooting completed soon before another Infant Island orgy ensues with so much concentrated Bi Panic in one location...
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if there was some kind of Legendkeepers Halloween Costume Party, what would everyone dress up as? and who would put the least/most Effort into their costumes?
I honestly don't have clear ideas on What Specifically people would dress up as, so I focused more on effort/approach!
Sumire - She'd probably pick something that seems like an easy grab, in the vein of "going as a ghost just so it's a sheet over the head and something everyone Gets", but she does put some effort into it so it actually is pretty well done. Might be like, instead of just a grey sheet for duskull, she makes a point of having the skull mask, loose "sleeves" for the hands, bones on the 'back', and she'll make a point of keeping her arms folded behind her or hanging in front of her.
Maciel - lowest effort, he doesn't feel comfortable spending money on stuff like that. He'll do it, partially due to Lena's prompting and partially because he would like to join in, but it involves a lot of thrifting and/or creative/generous interpretation, probably on the level of "wearing a black shirt with a gold ring on it and claiming it's Umbreon" for example. (Though with Lena pressuring him it'll be more involved than that)
Lena - puts a lot of effort into it, but is also indecisive - she doesn't remember her halloweens and loves the idea of getting to experience it, but can't figure out what she wants to do most. Probably does several costumes, depending on how many events she gets to go to
Satsuki - while she'd like to dress up, she's too busy with various events and having to present certain ways for them - as the champion, as a contest idol, as the person who saved Hoenn from drastic flooding... her outfits for these events match the theme and her role but just have generically spooky touches to them rather than being all-out costumes.
Ren - some sort of goofy food costume. He dresses his pokemon to match too, and posts photos on his pokemon photo blog はい、チーズ ! ("ok, say cheese!", but also known as "Hi, Cheese!")
Aya - I can't see her enjoying the celebrations much, but I can see her wearing ears/wings/tail accessories during the season for fun.
Ritsu - ok actually wait maybe he's the lowest effort. Just wears the diamond clan uniform he was gifted in Hisui as being a "surprisingly historically accurate costume". (He just likes having an excuse to wear his old garb again)
Touya - not sure why but I could see him go for a profession-based costume, like wrestler or doctor or something. Just goes for something quick and storebought, nothing too fancy
Kimmie - probably goes for some sort of cute pokemon thematically, but rather than more literal she probably goes for like cutesy clothing that evokes the imagery more indirectly - like if you had a pink cutesy dress with a jigglypuff face printed on the front. May buy the base outfit but she further accessorizes by herself.
Xav - if you can convince him to go out, he'll wear one of those "artistic halloween costumes" where it's done more to rise to the fashion challenge than just a simple, store-bought costume. Involves precise makeup work, attention to detail, the whole nine yards. Puts the most effort into it - IF you can get him to go out somewhere for it, that is.
Rex - depending on where on his timeline he is, I could see him dressing as his favorite superhero! He'd probably go for storebought (I can't imagine him making it himself and I don't think he knows anyone who could) but then 'erm actually' every off detail about it if it came up.
Aspen - indecisive and also a bit shy, worried others will think they're being "childish". Most likely to do matching costumes with his friends. Drawn towards pokemon-themed costumes the most, likes them when they look more directly like the pokemon.
Natsumi - since they're in charge of the lousy three, they decide to dress up to match - as Ogerpon, naturally. That, or they convince Aspen to be Ogerpon while they're Pecharunt. They put a good amount of effort into making sure the costume is readable, but don't worry too much about the quality of it so much - so if cheap plastic masks or slightly off stitching or something is in there, it's fine. It's only meant for limited time usage after all.
#long post#blablablah#legendkeepers#prompted#sumire#maciel#lena#satsuki#ren#aya#touya#kimmie#xav#rex#ritsu#aspen#natsumi#shyyren#gonna make a new tag for this:#ocs qna#and also I'd like to draw attention to the fact that Maciel's cheap about it - but Lena is able to have several costumes anyways#thank you for your time uwu#ocs
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I enjoyed the first few seasons of GoT expressly for the over the top gore and tragedy porn, but I fizzled out because it was just so pretentious. Like, I was there for gore, whump, and political machinations, and it delivered on that, but it also pretended to be highbrow and realistic, which it very very much was not.
I like my gore-drenched political thrillers to be well acted and highly polished, but good technical quality doesn't actually make something a meaningful examination of the human condition. And if your idea of "historical" is "meaner and dirtier than everyday life" then you know nothing about history.
I like fantasy when it tackles knotty worldbuilding questions in a realistic manner; what does medicine look like in a world with healing spells? How does the existence of dragons impact international trade? How does religion work in a world where magical spirits tangibly intervene in people's lives? (spoiler: it won't be Christianity in a funny hat)
But "realistic" and "historical" instead just mean "the women have a miserable time of it and there is a lot of mud".
GoT did have some great political machinations, even if it did lift them wholesale from the part of English history Shakespeare wrote plays about, but beyond that it was even less realistic and historically accurate than Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings.
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I would have been much less irritated if all the fans trying to pimp it to me had been like "I like it for titties, violence, and dragon riding". The costumes look fucking cool. The cinematography and editing were top notch. There's plenty to like... Just not the particular things people were always going on about.
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Had the funny thought about Nikia and the boys debating costumes.
Thatch is being a shit and keeps recommending whatever sexy variant his mind can conjure up.
"Baby, why don't you go as that damsel in that old game, the bubbled blond princess?"
"...Diane, I think, right? No. Daphne. I don't know where I'd even get a bubble of that size. Or a wig that long..." Nikia mutters dismissively. "Let alone a dress with a plunge that deep but won't just dump my tits out. That's the real magic, right there."
Izou smacks Thatch with a huff.
"Hey, it was a good idea!"
"No it wasn't, you just want a horny costume."
"...French maid?"
"Sounds like something you just want to wear yourself." She mutters threateningly and Thatch grins, propping up his leg with a thoughtful look.
"I do have the legs for it..." He muses playfully. "What do you think, babe?"
"Not if you want to be seen together in public. It's French maid, not French bear maid." Izou points out dryly.
"I'm quite proud of my manly hair, thank you very much!"
"We know." Nikia sighs.
Izou keeps suggesting obscure historical figures that would require hours of makeup and three different doctorates in historical studies to have heard about.
"Izou, I love you and appreciate your suggestions more than Thatch's--"
"Hey!"
"--but that is way too much work for Halloween."
And Nikia is just begging for something relatively simple and warm because it WILL be cold as shit come Halloween night, regardless of how warm the days before are.
They end up settling on Little Red Riding Hood, The Big Bad Wolf, and The Huntsman. All very historically accurate save Thatch's, who mostly just wore fake side burns, clawed gloves, and ripped pants with yellow contacts. Not much 'historical accuracy-ing' a wolf man, after all.
Thatch did, however, keep making sex jokes to both of them until they bribed him with candy to shut up in public. Whereupon he started back up in short order.
He was very proud of himself by the end of the night and more than a little drunk after the Halloween party. So was Izou but he's better at pretending to be sober. Thankfully, Nikia was the DD, to which they were quite grateful for.
Actually, it would be very funny to do a retelling of a fairy tail for my own spooktober event piece. Might have to keep that in mind!
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Aw shucks, thanks for the informative knowledge on jousting during this period (I respect the commitment to historical accuracy 👍). But now that you’ve mentioned masquerades…
— Penalanon (recovering from losing a 50/50. It was my first 10 pull since forever 💀)
misc lore drop day 41/?
Physically restraining myself from giving a way too historically accurate detailing of what masquerades specifically would have been like at that time. I read way too much about them, and I’ve decided I like the more fantastical, stereotypical version we usually tend to think of. Or I guess more accurately, the Venetian version over the early 18th century Viennese style. It was much more formal and complicated at that time, and it hurts my head to even think about all the etiquette. So I’ll just stick to the typical dressing up in costumes while wearing masks, which they did in fact do! Though I guess maybe they’d be very stuffy and formal for most of the part in Austria, and then “go on formal business” down to Venice to have more fun with it hehe. Imagine them wearing opposite colors as their costumes hahaha.
My first thought is that Fernando would absolutely love the plausible deniability that wearing a mask and non typical clothing would give him. Though don’t tell him, but…everyone except him is pretty aware that it’s him. I’ve talked a bit about this before, but he is much more comfortable being affectionate or more down to earth if it won’t affect his carefully crafted image. He really believes in the idea that a monarch should be a lofty, untouchable figure. Even if his identity wouldn’t be completely unknown, it still gives him a level of secrecy and freedom he doesn’t have the chance to feel almost all of the time. Especially if they were guests in another city! I feel like both he and Seb expect each other to cavort with other strangers who they could never be around otherwise. Yet they drift towards each other. Seb likes this Fernando, a Fernando that isn’t hyper aware of his surroundings at literally every moment. A Fernando who acts like the flirty, wild playboy who Seb had heard he was in his youth. He’s usually so stiff and formal with couple dances, but now he’s grabbing Seb’s hand more than is socially appropriate, brushing his waist. Seb thought he had just been an awkward dancer before, someone doing it just because it had to be done. But now he can see Fernando’s passion, his genuine enjoyment. They don’t talk, they just dance the night away, pretending to be two strangers enamored with each other.
I like when they can have these moments where they’re in their own little bubble. Where Fernando doesn’t feel the need to hide his true self away, and Seb isn’t compelled to tease him about every little thing because of it. They’re just them for once, no formality, no expectations, no spectators, no judges of character. Meanwhile everyone is watching them and is like, awww the royal couple is getting along so well!! So they leave them be. Imagine them the next morning though, not outright talking about what happened. “So, that was some ball,” says Seb, “did you find manage to find yourself some company?” Fernando replies, “yes, and he was quite a fine dancer,” and sips his tea while trying to hide his fond smile. Seb has to look away so Fernando doesn’t get spooked by how big his grin is.
#every day i get closer to actually writing a fic#i think after the anniversary ill maybe open myself up to writing ficlets based on these lore a days(or comics)#if anyone is interested....#me teasing this concept in the tags several times as if ill actually follow thru I SWEAR I WILL#also noooooo penalanon rip :') i hope you at least got a good standard 5*!!!#im not touching that wish page until my GOAT comes out#lore a day#boy king au
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