#Magnificent 7 Stocks

[davidnelsoncfa]

Fight the Fed - A Raw 2024 Investment Reality Check

Myth of the Elite 7 – Mega cap stocks were not the only path to success Challenging the Status Quo – Over-reliance on traditional investment mantras, in particular conventional wisdom surrounding the Federal Reserve has been an investment loser Reality Check – Lightning rarely strikes in the same place twice. Look outside the popular favorites for new themes as we head into 2024 The Price Tag…

[youthchronical]

BlackRock launches ETF that expands beyond the 'Magnificent Seven'

BlackRock’s iShares is trying to appeal to investors who want to diversify beyond from the so-called Magnificent Seven. The firm launched the iShares Top 20 U.S. Stocks ETF (TOPT) this month. It doesn’t just hold the Magnificent Seven — Apple, Amazon, Meta, Alphabet, Microsoft, Nvidia and Tesla. It’s made up of the 20 largest U.S. stocks by market capitalization. “What the iShares build ETFs are…

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Late Night Tea

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 7)

A Levi x reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

You can't sleep so you annoy the shit out of Levi instead.

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 3.4k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

You skipped up the stairs of the small shop, hidden away in a back alley in the center of Trost's commercial district. The faded sign at the entrance, which said Trost's Top Tea in cursive gold lettering, swung in the gust of wind as you rushed past it and pushed open the door, making the small bell attached to it ring violently.

The shopkeeper let out a small sigh at the commotion, but when he greeted his customer with his usual "welcome", his voice was fond. He didn't need to turn around to know who had just entered his fine establishment. There was only one person so enthusiastic to enter that they almost took the door off its hinges every time.

"Alfred, long time no see! I hope you're doing well! How's everything? Have things been good? I hope things've been good!" you exclaimed happily while simultaneously letting your eyes roam over any potential new merchandise that may have arrived in your absence.

"Much the same, I suppose," he said slowly, eyeing you curiously. "It has been a while indeed. You had me worried there, child. I really thought one of them Titans finally got you."

Alfred called everyone under the age of 50 'child'. He was a heavyset elderly man who made up for his balding hair by sporting the most magnificent mustache, its bushiness and size unmatched by anyone inside the walls. It had only gotten bigger since the last time you'd seen it.

"Oh, that's so sweet of you, but there was really no need to worry. I'm saving up for something big, remember? So I really had no choice but to stay away. You know how I get, I can't come in here and not buy something. Can't resist the leafy temptations." You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

Alfred let out a wheezy chuckle, then coughed.

"I will stop worrying once you cut it out with this scout nonsense and join the garrison," he said finally, a bit out of breath. "At least be safe while you waste the taxpayer's money." He gave you a stern look and started rolling himself a cigarette.

You rolled your eyes. "I will if you stop smoking."

"Nice try," Alfred said. "But you know I won't."

"I guess I'll always be a scout, then." You smiled.

Alfred just shook his head. He lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. "So what can I do for you, child?"

"Right," you said, your eyes twinkling with excitement. "I have good news. I finally saved enough money! So I'm coming to collect it!"

"It?" he asked, puzzled.

"The tea set? The one I asked you to set aside for me?"

"Oh, that. I sold it already."

"You did what?! You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding."

Alfred shook his head. Your face fell. "How could you?"

It wasn't fair. After you had worked towards this goal for so long, having it snatched away from you just when you were about to reach the finish line… The betrayal.

"It was the most expensive item in my shop. I didn't think you were serious. Besides, that was months ago. I wasn't sure you'd be coming back."

"Of course I was serious! I told you I would find a way to get the money! It was supposed to be a gift..." you trailed off.

"I have plenty of other tea sets in stock. Just choose one of them," he said, motioning to the sets on display. None of them were as nice as the one you had picked out.

"These are hardly adequate," you mumbled. They definitely weren't good enough for Levi.

"What's wrong with them? I think they are perfectly fine."

"You don't understand. The other one was just…perfect. The paragon of elegance. The moment I laid my eyes on it, I just knew it was the one. I had to get it for him, no matter the price. These just don't compare."

"Gosh! I had no idea you felt so strongly about it. I'll get new stock in a month, and I'll see–"

"I don't have a month," you said miserably as reality hit you. That was right. Levi's birthday was in less than a month, and now you didn't have a present. This was bad. Very bad. There was no time to be wasted standing around chatting with Alfred. You had a crisis to solve. Tea problems required tea solutions.

"I have to go," you said quickly, turning on your heel and rushing out the door.

Alfred looked after you. "To leave without buying something…The child is acting very strange," he muttered.

He stared at the little sachets of free samples he had prepared for you, one for each of the new leaves that had come in while you had been absent. You hadn't even asked for them. This had never happened before.

– –

You turned to one side. Then you turned to the other. In the bunk above you, you could hear Nifa sighing softly in her sleep. You experimentally let out a sigh, too. Maybe it would help you fall asleep.

It was four pots later and you still hadn't come up with a solution. This was unprecedented. Usually a little bit of tea was enough to help you work out any problem. Yet the only thing that had been worked out was your heart, which was running a mile a minute, and your problem still remained unsolved.

On the bright side, you had never felt so full of energy in your life. Every single cell inside your body felt activated – humming and buzzing, chattering amongst themselves as they worked, each with their own important jobs keeping you alive. You could hear the blood rushing through your veins, could taste your heartbeat on your tongue. You were positively vibrating. And you really needed to pee.

You climbed out of bed and tiptoed to the door. As soon as you were out in the dimly lit hallway, you made a run for it. The bathroom door came into view – you yanked it open and made your way inside.

Complete darkness surrounded you. You had forgotten to take a candle. But there was no time to go back and get one. You needed to go now.

"Just my luck today," you groaned, but you couldn't help laughing as you felt your way around to the toilet, going as fast as you could without running into a wall. It was just so ridiculous.

When you were done, you felt more awake than ever.

Maybe some pacing up and down the hallway would get the job done. After tea, taking a walk was the next best thing when it came to clearing your head. You started with the hallway of the women's barracks, but soon decided that it was too short to be satisfactory, so you wandered up the stairs to the office floor instead. Its hallway was longer and much nicer, with wood paneling on the lower halves of the walls and better lighting.

You started down the corridor, humming in a pleased manner.

As you passed Levi's office, you noticed that there was light shining through the gap under the door. You stopped. Maybe something in his office would give you ideas for a different gift. You could try to engage him in conversation while you had a look around, inconspicuously of course.

Deciding this was a great idea, you attempted to open the door, only to find it already ajar. You poked your head in. The office was empty.

"Lucky," you whispered and quickly stepped inside.

You let your eyes wander around the room, eager to find something of interest that could serve as inspiration. Even though you had teatime here with him regularly, you had never paid a lot of attention to your surroundings. Now you found there really wasn't a lot to see. The room was rather plain. Apart from his desk, a chest of drawers and a few chairs, the only other furniture were a small couch and two bookshelves.

His desk was neat and tidy, holding only the necessities. Nothing interesting there. You went over to the bookshelves. Maybe he was secretly into romance novels?

"What are you doing?"

You flinched and turned around to see Levi standing in the doorway, a cup of steaming tea in his hand. His eyes were boring into yours, inscrutable as ever.

"I can't sleep," you said quickly. It was the first thing that popped into your head.

"And?"

"And I thought maybe you could help me, or something."

"You thought that I could help you fall asleep?" He raised his eyebrows.

You could feel a grin spreading on your face, which happened every time you lied. It was a well-known fact that Captain Levi didn't get a lot of sleep. So much for being inconspicuous.

"Yeah, since you're an expert at not being able to sleep and all, I thought you might have some tips for me," you tried to salvage the situation.

Levi huffed. "Just how much tea did you have?"

"Huh?"

"And don't try to tell me you didn't have any. Why else would you have trouble sleeping?"

"Of course I had tea. I always drink some in the evening, it helps me unwind after a long day. Though I do admit I had more than usual…"

"How many cups?"

You did the math in your head. Four pots, one pot usually yielded about four cups for you, so about… "Sixteen cups?"

Levi's eyes widened. He shook his head.

"Tch. No wonder you can't fall asleep then." He walked past you to his desk and put down his cup. You stared at it longingly.

"It's not like I planned to drink that many. It just kind of happened," you muttered.

"Sure it did."

"You're not being helpful," you pouted.

"Never said I would be. Now go to bed." Levi pulled a document from the neat stack in the corner of his desk, attempting to go back to work. Clearly, you had other plans. You plopped down on the small couch and crossed your arms.

"No. I don't want to. I'm not sleepy at all. And you haven't given me a tip yet."

"I don't have any tips."

"Well, what do you do when you can't sleep?"

"I work."

"I don't wanna to work," you whined. "I want to sleep."

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Then count sheep, or one of your other beloved farm animals."

"Tried that already. Sheep, horses, cats, Levis. Nothing worked."

Levi shot you a glance. "How does that even work? There's only one of me."

"No, there isn't," you said matter-of-factly. "There's you on a horse, you when you clean, you when you fight… You with flowers…"

Levi glared at you. "The last one never happened." He shivered, remembering the drawing he would never be able to unsee.

"But it could," you pouted.

He didn't answer, his eyes back on the paper in front of him.

You craned your head to get a look at the bookshelves behind you. Encyclopedias, history books…didn't he read any fiction?

"Guess that's a no to the romance novels then," you mumbled.

"What?" Levi was looking up at you again, his eyes narrowed.

"Nevermind." You sighed. There wasn't anything useful in his office. You eyed his teacup wistfully. Levi followed your gaze.

"No."

You gave him your best puppy dog eyes. He looked thoroughly unimpressed and put the cup to his lips, emptying it.

"I didn't even want it anyway," you muttered. "Just wanted to save you from getting sleepless."

"I can handle it. Now leave. I want to get some work done."

"I don't wanna go. You can work while I'm here."

"I can't. You're distracting me."

"How am I distracting you? I'm not even doing anything," you protested. Levi gave you a look, a strange expression flashing in his eyes before he dropped his gaze to the surface of the desk.

"Stop being a brat and go to sleep."

"Excuse me? I'm too old to be a brat."

"Mentally, you are one."

"Certainly not." You grabbed one of his encyclopedias off the shelf behind you. "I'll be quiet and read, I promise. You won't even notice I'm there."

You settled into the couch and opened the book on a random page. FLANNEL, a kind of light, porous, woollen stuff, woven on a loom with two treddles, in a manner similar to baize. This is unquestionably one of the most useful articles of wearing apparel; and it is much to be regretted, that it is not more generally worn, as we are fully persuaded, that it would be the means of preventing many diseases.

You yawned and skimmed the text for the next entry. FLATULENCY, a very common disorder, arising from vapors generated in the stomach and intestines.

You burst out laughing despite your best efforts to hold it in. Levi shot you a disapproving look.

You cleared your throat, trying really hard to put on a straight face again as you continued reading the entry. Needless to say, you didn't get very far.

The drinking of turbid or feculent liquors… Feculent. You giggled at the word. Levi sighed. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," you said quickly.

He glanced at the book in your hands, his eyebrows shooting up. "It's an encyclopedia."

"Learning something new can be entertaining, too, you know…" you mumbled defensively. You held the book up to your face, trying to hide the smile which formed on your lips. Your eyes skimmed over the words in front of you as you went back to where you had left off.

… Feculent liquors, whether new or old, as well as excessive potations of hot tea, produce a similar effect.

You gasped and snapped the book shut. What slander was this? This book was obviously not to be taken seriously.

"What? Done already? I thought learning something new was fun?" Levi sneered.

"Nothing new can be learned from this book," you said with a solemn expression.

As if putting 'feculent' and 'tea' in the same sentence wasn't bad enough already. But claiming tea caused flatulency? That was where you drew the line.

"The pages are nice and thick though. I bet it would do nicely if you ever happen to run out of firewood."

Levi snorted. "Just admit that you were bored."

"I wasn't. I just prefer to read things that are well-researched and can back up their claims with evidence. Unlike this."

You picked up the book with your fingertips and shoved it back in its place on the shelf. Then you flopped back onto the couch, peering at Levi. He was frowning at the page in front of him.

"You can't sleep either, right? That's why you're still here, working," you said.

His eyes flicked up to yours. He nodded. "Trying to work, anyway," he said dryly.

"I'm sorry, I'll be quiet now," you said, curling up against the cushions.

You watched the way the shadows danced across his face in the flickering light of the candles on his desk.

He picked up his pen, dipping it into the inkwell before writing something on the piece of paper in front of him. You tried to guess what it was by the movement of his hand, which, of course, was impossible, but it made for a nice pastime. Closing your eyes, you imagined his neat script filling the page, probably wasted on a boring report for Zachary.

You let out a yawn. The steady sound of his pen scratching over the page, the rustling of the paper, even his small sighs… There was something calming to it, something comfortable, making you feel all warm and fuzzy and tingly inside. Your thoughts started to slip away from you as you gave into the feeling, lulling you right to sleep.

– –

Levi blew out a breath as he pushed the finished document away from him. Only then did he notice that you had been quiet the entire time he was writing it.

He frowned. This was unlike you. He glanced over at the couch. You were curled up into a ball, your arms wrapped around one of the cushions, hugging it tightly. Your eyes were closed. Were you sleeping?

Levi got up from his chair and walked towards the couch. You didn't stir.

He could hear your long, deep breaths now. You were definitely sleeping. A strand of hair had fallen into your face. Without thinking, he bent down to gently tuck it behind your ear.

"You can't sleep here." he tried to scold you. It came out more softly than he had intended. "It gets cold at night. You'll get sick. Idiot."

You didn't react, still peacefully asleep in front of him. He sighed. He knew he should wake you, but for some reason, he couldn't. You just looked so calm and content, and you had finally fallen asleep. He wanted to let you rest.

"Fine. I'll take you to your room. But don't drool on me," he told you.

He grabbed the cushion that you held pressed to your chest, attempting to pull it out from between your arms, but you let out a whine, hugging it even closer.

Levi rolled his eyes. "Keep it, then."

He bent down, wrapping one arm underneath your knees and the other around your back, and gently lifted you from the couch. You buried your nose in the crook of his neck, mumbling something in your sleep as you relaxed against him. Levi froze. He could feel your warm breath on his skin. It tickled slightly. The cushion flopped to the ground as you wrapped an arm around his neck, the other one dangling loosely to your side.

"Mhm," you made, satisfied, your lips grazing the sensitive skin of his neck as you nuzzled deeper into it.

Levi shivered.

He almost dropped you.

"What are you doing," he grumbled, adjusting his grip. There was no answer, just your deep and even breathing. He sighed. "Let's get you to bed."

Levi carried you out of his office and down the stairs. When he got to the door of your room, he stopped, remembering the last time he had knocked on that door at night.

This was a bad idea. He didn't feel like dealing with your roommates right now. Or ever again, for that matter. He should just wake you, so you could go in by yourself. He should, he really should, but…

"Damn it," he muttered and turned around. You were still holding onto him, sound asleep, completely unaware of your surroundings. So carefree for a soldier. It made something inside of him ache. He wanted to scold you again, tell you not to let your guard down like this, to be alert at all times. But he couldn't. Not when you were sleeping peacefully like this. In his arms. He swallowed.

"Damn it," he said again.

He carried you back up the stairs, past his office, up another flight of stairs, until he reached his quarters. He had to steady you against the door to get the key out of his pocket and unlock it. You didn't notice, continuing your peaceful slumber.

He carried you into the darkness of the room. The only source of light came from the open door.

He carefully set you down on the bed, but when he tried to straighten up again, he found that your arm was still wrapped around his neck. He grabbed your wrist, trying to move it, but you let out a whine again, just like you did earlier when he grabbed the cushion.

"Won't work this time," Levi murmured.

He gently pulled your arm away, which made you mumble something unintelligible under your breath. You sounded cross. Levi rolled his eyes and tossed you a pillow. You wasted no time, immediately hugging it to your chest with a satisfied hum.

"Idiot," Levi said fondly. He draped the blanket over you, snugly tugging you in.

When he got to the door, he looked back at your sleeping figure. Your mouth was slightly open. You would definitely drool on his sheets. Strangely, he didn't mind.

A/n: I may have read an encyclopedia from 1803 for this chapter… (All of the excerpts are actual quotes from "The Domestic Encyclopedia", volume III, by A. F. M. Willich) xD

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1 , @iifrui, @shakysif , @ickearmn , @omlyurslvi

Click here part 8

[lying-on-floors]

Omfg I can't get over the tf2 comic 7 ending

SPOILERS

link: https://www.teamfortress.com/tf07_thedayshavewornaway/

The crossed off surnames of his ex wives💀

FOUR LITTLE RUGRATS!!!!! They're menaces, all of em, just like their daddy

Again, menaces and all of the stockings 💀 the crooked ass tree bc it's too big is so funny

The fakeout😭

"My boys can swim...my girls to, we just got back from the pool"

His bbg looking at heavy with the turkey <3

SPY?? He's so handsome omg

Bbg having her tiara broken 🥺

Also, two names of the mini scouts, Tanya ANZ Tommy

Wonder if there is a "T" theme going in with their names??

HELLO😭😭😭 IM IN TEARS

Pyro peeking over the side of the table at the turkey💀 what a magnificent creature <3

Also,,, Sniper looks so handsome??? They all do, but snipes graying looks good on him! Also, the turtleneck and the green??? 😻😻

Also, Scout is giving total "mom" vibes <333 he looks like his mom </3

Also, is she dead? Or does she think he's dead? Bc he legally doesn't exist, so...is he dead to her? Did momma Willis mourn her baby???? I'm gonna be sick😫😭

Fr, though, Jeremy's house looks so comfortable, like, he's a full time dad! After SPY being a deadbeat, aahhhhhh I love them

Also, Sniper is totally dating Scout and helping him with the kids... am I delusional? Maybe, but I'm free

[dinoflwer]

^^ this is a shortfin mako shark!! cute, right?

it belongs to the family of lamnidae, also known as mackerel sharks or isurids. lammidae are large, aggressive and powerful sharks that live in tropical to cold, temperate waters globally. there's only 5 species of shark belonging to this family: white shark, shortfin mako, longfin mako, porbeagle and the salmon shark.

its the fastest shark species with cruising speeds of 45mph (faster than a running horse!!) to astonishing speeds of 60mph! these gorgeous speed demons are able to be so magnificently agile due to their strong muscles and a streamlined body which allows them to power through water in fast bursts.

also, same as their lamnidae family, shortfin mako’s have specialised blood vessels that regulates their blood temperature to be higher than the surrounding water by producing heat metabolically. this is referred to as a heat exchange circulatory system and makes them one of the few endothermic sharks! their warms blood enhances their agility, allowing them to move at greater speeds, and being able to swim intensely for longer periods of time and reside in colder waters.

primarily, their diet consists of bluefish, swordfish, tuna, marine mammals and few other sharks. as they are aggressive predators near the top of the marine food web, this speedster doesn't have many predators, just commonly other larger sharks when shortfin's are still juveniles.

shortfin mako's habitat is near the surface of tropical and temperate oceans. juveniles are commonly located in coastal waters and adults are more likely found offshore. however, they are still highly migratory and are incredibly capable of swimming long distances across entire oceans!

these guys are certainly no where near being the largest shark species, the whale shark, by averaging size of 1-2 metres (6-7 feet). mako's suit the average shark lifespan (20-30 years) by being capable of living up to and over 30 years.

their reproduction doesn't happen until later in life. males at 8 years of age whilst females 20. a female shortfin shark's pregnancy lasts 15-18 months and they give birth to live young. their offspring ranges from 4-16 pups and, at birth, the pups range from 68-71cm (27-28 inches). also, each female will give birth to the ranged amount of pups every 3 years, due to their reproductive cycle. mating occurs from summer to autumn where eggs are fertilised internally and then develop inside the mother.

unfortunately, according to the 2019 stock assessment, shortfin mako sharks are overfished and subject to overfishing due to their coastal and temperate latitude across all oceans, making them an easy target. they are either targeted commercially, caught purposely to create a profit, or captured accidentally in fisheries. shortfins are valued for the quality of their fins and meat.

thankfully, NOAA fisheries implemented regulations to protect the shortfins after they were determined "critically endangered" in 2019, after being up-listed from "vulnerable" and "near-threatened" back in 2007. this rebuilding plan promotes population growth.

[gabessquishytum]

Ive been lurking for a long time just eating other peoples ideas but i cant get over sleazy pickup artist hob having this religious pussy experience from this weird goth he met at a bar just standing there silently like a mannequin. I would love it if dream was only this unearthly beauty to HOB. Literally NOBODY ELSE gets why this crying wet cat bewitched him body and soul... hob is a total conman on the internet manosphere bc he looks like Alpha Male and he just says some bullshit he makes up on the fly and starts pyramid schemes. He stumbles out of that hookup dazed and confused but feeling like he needs to buy a ring and perhaps commission a golden statue. Hes Different after. Like his accounts drop off activity for a good long while as he tries so desperately to find this Weird Fucking Guy hes not quite sure was human at this point and when people start noticing what hes doing hes an absolute laughing stock but hes too busy pulling all nighters red strings on the corkboard to care hes like an obsessed mad scientist in a monster movie. He goes to that bar EVERY NIGHT. For 100 days. Then his magnificent stranger walks back in and orders a glass of milk at the bar and hob is ready to simp for the rest of his fucking LIFE. Morpheus is this guys Actual Name and hob realizes he could have just like,, looked him up online if he believed morpheus when he told him the next morning then left while hob was in the shower. But dream shares that he doesn't have social media. Or a computer. Or a phone. He pulls out this ancient flip phone held together with scotch tape and willpower so hob can enter his number. He types with one index finger on hobs screen to enter his own. Hob is gifted his presence for another night of insane sex where he almost dies like twice and comes more times in a row than he has in his life. Dream is completely unaffected by literally any media attention and No One Gets The Appeal. Hes like a cryptid and everyone knows who HOB is seemingly BUT dream and he really doesnt care about any of the questions he gets. Usually just responds with some shit like "you could be learning a new hobby right now. Try oil painting, perhaps the clarinet." Its not even beer goggles bc hob is following after this freak like a puppy in the middle of the afternoon wearing all black and a long jacket in August while he picks out the specific peanuts from a big barrel he would like to feed the birds at the park today.

-🔪

Yeah I absolutely love the idea that Dream is a weird skinny gremlin to EVERYONE. Except for Hob. Hob thinks he's an angel, a beautiful ethereal creature, Dream has literally saved Hob’s soul from the torments of cringey redpill internet content. Hob walks around with heart eyes 24/7, basically waits on Dream hand and foot. He doesn't give a shit if he gets ripped on online - he doesn't go online anymore, he's way too busy staring at the way the light filters into Dream’s eyes.

He's so down bad for Dream’s pussy it's almost comedic. He'll get on his knees and bed to be allowed just a sniff, just a moment with his nose between Dream’s legs. He'd buy Dream’s bath water but he's so lucky he doesn't even have to!!! He gets it for free!!!

All this to say: they're both freaks, no body gets why they're Like That but true love finds a way!

[fanterfane]

July Patreon Sketch Requests!

Here are all of the sketch requests I did for my Patrons on stream in July!

1. Boobless Boy! Female to Femboy Transformation for Anonymous! "Seddy wasn't expecting the boyification ray attack... I don't think any girl ever expects that."

2. Deathbed Boy! Noel as a deathbed companion for Phones! "I'd take his Baldachin's blessing in a heartbeat..."

3. Banchou Badass! Banchou tomboy TF for SnufferinSnagglepuss! Previous: https://www.deviantart.com/fanterfane/art/Banchou-Badass-Patreon-Request-978477241 "Kaetaro is still upset about being transformed into a tomboyish boy with a bad temper, and he's taking it out on Fayne now! The almighty KABEDON from Kaetaro completely stunlocks Fayne into a stammering welp incapable of self defense. Why is Fayne always blamed for things he never did!? Does he act suspiciously when accused or something??"

4. Make-Believe Masturbation! Female to Male hypnosis for Izzy! Uncensored: https://bsky.app/profile/fanterfane.bsky.social/post/3lcytwclcqp2k

5. Lemy Living Large! Uncensored: https://bsky.app/profile/fanterfane.bsky.social/post/3ld5wfko32k23 Lemy the Skinsuit Boy being worn by a slime girl for Phee! "One of the things I love about living skinsuits is that they're hollow. Which goes without saying but like, think about it. If he's hollow, that means he can be filled up, even full to bursting... If you wanna see a 3-page comic of this concept, I highly recommend this 10 year old one on FA: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/14642974 Since it inspired me!"

6. Lemy's Sage Adventure! Uncensored: https://bsky.app/profile/fanterfane.bsky.social/post/3ld5wjobooz2z Lemy the Skinsuit Boy being worn by Sage!

7. Body Brainwash! Male to Female headswap for Tina! "I love the concept of bodies having an effect on headswapped people. You've gotta imagine how many different neurons he has connected to his brainstem. They say that your intestines have the second most amount of neurons in your body after your head! It's why people get cravings, it's their guts craving something, not their brains. It really makes you think!"

8. Boy Beef! Cow femboy for Vee! https://bsky.app/profile/fanterfane.bsky.social/post/3ldkbm5tn5u2z

9. Magnificent Magnolia! Magnolia Arch Age Progression for The Negative Zone!

10. Soukaku Soul! Sora possessed by Soukaku for Yasuda Kojo! Boys possessed by hungry demons can clear out an entire restaurant's stock in mere hours...

11. Bee Boy! Femboy Dronification for Epsi! "The bee queen's pheromones are impossible to resist. You'll be a good little drone for her, won't you? honey is delicious, I wish bees were real..."

12. California Boy! Serena turned into a west coast femboy, in downtown L.A. for Goldnight Angel! Do you think they're gonna fuck underneath the pier next to the 5$ water bottles?

That's all for this post! Please let me know if I'm not using any tags correctly!

[damonalbarn]

Interviewer: If you and Blur were cheeses on a plate, what would you all be? Alex: Well, Damon would be a Stilton, magnificent and polarising, Graham would be a gooey Brie and Dave would be a fine handmade goat's cheese. Weird, but I can't think of one for me – just too many to choose from. Take Stock magazine, 7/8 2012

[inneedofsupervision]

I didn't ask, did I? (Chapter 5)

Happy begrudgingly steps aside and walks after Tony into the diner. The billionaire skillfully ignores the gasps of surprise and the poor attempt to take pictures of him secretly as he strides straight up to the counter. "Two cheeseburgers and a large fry. To go." "Please get in line and wait for your turn, Sir." "Excuse me?" Tony slowly pulls his sunglasses down and glances at the skinny teen behind the register. "Bad hearing comes with age, huh?" mutters the teen under his breath.Happy makes a choking sound behind him.

Or, how Tony Stark gets sassed by some high schooler working part-time and makes it his mission to figure out what he did to make this kid he'd never seen hate him. If that means annoying the hell out of said high schooler, that's not his problem.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Chapter Summary: Something unexpected happens while the team's at the Avengers Compound.

Read on Ao3.

"Anthony Edward Stark, what did you do?"

The man in question jumps as the door to the conference room bursts open, giving way to a furious-looking Pepper Potts. Tony pulls at his tie, loosening it with a roll of his eyes before turning around, face morphed into a wide apologetic smile.

"Pepper Virgina Potts, you cannot imagine how delighted I am to see you. Is that a new blouse? It looks magnificent."

"Something's wrong, Mrs Potts?"

Tony turns to glare at Steve, the latter raising a single eyebrow before gesturing for him to look at his fiancee. Tony's head reels back, facing Pepper. Her lips form a thin line, pressed together firmly as she tries to suppress most of her anger and keep a professional face.

"Ten bucks, Tony screwed the pooch," whispers Clint behind his hand with a snicker. Natasha's lips tug upwards at the corner. Tony turns with a glare, pointing a finger at the archer.

"Shut your mouth, Legolas. Mommy and Daddy are talking."

Clint grimaces at the comment but kicks his legs up the table. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back to enjoy the show.

"Feet down, now."

Clint's boots are off the table in an instant.

Tony smirked at how quickly the archer cowered at his fiancee's words. One glance at Pepper makes him realize he did not have the privilege to laugh, as he's currently the main target of her wrath. The man quickly schools himself, setting up his best placating smile. "Darling, although incredibly smart, mind reading isn't on my list of traits, so tell me what I can do to get you to relax again."

Pepper crosses her arm over her chest, eyes narrowing.

"Don't you dare try to tell me to relax when you caused the press to run wild and SI stocks to go into an all-time-deep in a day, Tony!"

Sam whistles. "That's almost impressive. What did he do?"

Tony turns, glaring, pointing his finger at them. "The peanut gallery is closed for today. No clever comments coming from any of you, capiche?"

The rest of the team keeps quiet as they watch Pepper scolding the man whose shoulder sinks further as the strawberry-blond woman asks him if he has completely lost it.

"Pepper, darling. Please, whatever I've done, the PR Team can manage it," he tries, but Pepper is having none of it.

"You know what, tell me if they can," says the angered woman. She glances towards the ceiling. "Friday, if you would be so nice."

"Of course, Miss Potts."

The flatscreen at the wall turns on, all heads turning towards the live broadcast playing on the big screen.

"Is that the Tower?"

Steve leans his arms on the table, brows furrowed as he stares at the drone footage playing, showing a side of the well-known building, thoroughly covered in black and white paint.

"What even is that?" asks Sam, who tilts his head in confusion.

Tony's mind is blank. His building got used for some crazy idiots canvas to portray their juvenile act of rebellion or whatever that imitation of a zebra on crack is trying to be, and he finds out about it in the news.

His Tower.

Full of paint.

"Friday, volume up," he snaps, jaw clenching in anger.

The voice of the news anchor raises. Every person in the room has their eyes on the screen, where a camera zooms in on the large image of a quadrat filled with black and white rectangles that overtake most of the glass facade.

"A statement regarding the allegations is still pending from Stark Industries. The burden of proof will be challenging for the concern to sweep under the carpet; the video has already been shared over a million times and is spreading like wildfire on the Internet. It shows SI owner Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, in a dispute with a minor working part-time at a fast food store. The huge QR code painted on the Stark Tower with graffiti spray, which is scannable even from several miles away, regained the attention of the video a thousandfold."

The camera focuses on the reporter, who now takes out her cell phone and opens a QR-Scanner, demonstrating how the code causes a link to a video to pull up.

"How in the world did someone paint this on a building? Doesn't the lines have to be perfectly straight for a scan to work? That's honestly impressive. Hey, don't glare at me. You are the one who caused that if the lady on the TV is right," defends Sam himself when the billionaire throws him a bitter look. Before Tony can tell Sam to shut up, he gets shushed by Natasha, who watches with interest as the video begins to play.

"Good luck to your PR Team," comments Clint, grimacing in unease when Peter Parker's voice echos through the conference room, begging to keep his job.

"Tony, how could you do that to a kid?"

Tony is ready to throw his drink at Steve at the disappointment that drips from the man's voice while the blond's face shows a hint of anger.

"I got framed! This kid is pulling your leg. He's acting," Tony tells them as he points at the screen, but the image of him leaning over the counter of a specific fast food chain, holding onto the arm of an employee who begs him not to get fired, doesn't help much to convince his fellow teammates. Tony doesn't know if the news channel or the person uploading the video has pixeled the kid's face and laid a voice modulator over the sound of Parker's voice to keep his privacy. What he did know is that the caption under the video didn't help make him look less like a grade-A douchebag.

"Tony Stark getting high school employee fired from a part-time job. Damn, Stark. That's low even for you," states Sam, shaking his head.

Tony could tear his hair out in frustration.

"I told you, the kid's acting!"

Steve, who had stood up from his chair, puts a hand on his shoulder on his way out, having seen enough.

"Maybe you should stay out from the next few missions until it's settled."

Tony blinks at him in disbelief.

"You're kidding, right?"

Steve pats his shoulder.

"We all have bad days, Tony. But this isn't the way. Get this sorted out, and you're back on the team."

The others follow soon, walking out of the conference room and leaving Tony with a still frowning Pepper.

"Steve's right, Tony. You have to get this sorted out."

She gives him a last look before also walking out of the room.

Tony runs a hand over his face, a tired sight leaving him before telling Friday to turn off the TV. His knuckles are turning white with how hard he's balling his hands into fists as he stalks around the room, mind going miles a minute. A million and one questions are running through his head, questions he couldn't answer, and that drives him more mad than the fact his tower got turned into a memorial of his failure to keep his cool. Why didn't Friday notify him someone put a hand on the Tower? How did they paint the facade of an eighty-story tall building?

Even though there were many questions without an answer, Tony had a hunch about who was behind all of this. Who had to be behind this petty act of revenge?

On his way out, Tony checks his reflection in the glass door, pulling his tie straight.

"Friday, give me the kid's location."

It's time to go looking for Peter Parker.

[dc-marvel-crossovers]

Day 1: a magnificent slice of stardust by @bittercape. Roy Harper/Tony Stark, 857 words, rated T.

Day 2: An Adamantium Shovel by @notherdeadrobin. Jason Todd/Slade Wilson & Logan, 3496 words, rated T.

Day 3: The Stockings Were Hung by @betrayedbycinnamon. Bucky Barnes/Jason Todd/Clint Barton, 3945 words, explicit.

Day 4: Can’t Start A Fire Without A Spark by @mightymightygnomepriest. Frank Castle/Jason Todd, 1322 words, explicit.

Day 5: Winter Traditions by @carcrash429. Clint Barton/Ronon Dex (Stargate Atlantis), 1152 words, rated G.

Day 6: Barebow by @artaxlivs. Clint Barton/Jason Todd, 3421 words, rated M.

Day 7: Biggest Fan by @claraxbarton. Clint Barton/Roy Harper, art.

Day 8: Make It Up As We Go Along by @there-must-be-a-lock. Roy Harper/Clint Barton, 4922 words, rated T

Day 9: early next mornin’ (‘bout a half past nine) by @capriciouswrites. Karen Page & Jason Todd, 2212 words, rated M.

Day 10: Just Want You For My Own (More Than You Could Ever Know) by @there-must-be-a-lock. Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Dick Grayson/Clint Barton, 4461 words, explicit

Day 11: Baby It's Hot Outside by @claraxbarton. Clint Barton/Jason Todd and Clint Barton/Diana Prince, art.

Day 12: Sit By The Fire by @darbydoo22. Steve Rogers/Dick Grayson, 746 words, rated G.

Day 13: On Target by @claraxbarton. Clint Barton/Roy Harper, art.

Day 14: Waiting For Something More by @wyxan. Peter Parker/Michelle Jones & Tim Drake, 2342 words, rated G.

Day 15: Nocking Point by @artaxlivs. Jason Todd/Clint Barton. 5042 words, explicit.

Day 16: any frontier, any hemisphere by @bittercape. Jason Todd/Steve Rogers, 719 words, rated T.

Day 17: Christmas Magic by TheologyDiscography. Clint Barton & Harry Potter, 1694 words, rated G.

Day 18: to hold saltwater in your mouth by @paprikadotmp4. Jason Todd/Bucky Barnes, 598 words, rated T.

Day 19: Wake Up by @claraxbarton. Clint Barton/Jason Todd, art.

Day 20: Birds of a Feather by @carcrash429. Clint Barton/Sam Wilson/Dick Grayson, 1291 words, rated G.

Day 21: all things nature’s given by @carcrash429. Clint Barton & Dick Grayson, 1327 words, rated G.

Day 22: I’ll Take The Dangerous One by @wyxan. Yelena Belova/Stephanie Brown, 2698 words, rated T.

Day 23: In Brightest Day by @claraxbarton. Clint Barton/Kyle Rayner, art.

Day 24: can’t start a fire without a spark, ch. 2 by @mightymightygnomepriest. Frank Castle/Jason Todd, 3468 words, explicit.

[starrysharks]

could you show a little bit of your art progression over the years? your style is absolutely magnificent btwbtw!!

sure ! i've done a similar post, but that was focused on shape language and didn't go over all of my art progression. i'll link it at the end of this post!

anyway, i started digital art around 7 years ago, but all of the art from that period is essentially lost. at that time, it was just deviantart bases and various furry/warrior cats fanart made in MS paint. while i'm not a fan of vivziepop anymore, she was a big inspiration at that time, as well as a handful of popular animation meme artists at the time. around 2019, i started making art in krita using a mouse. and later that year, i started making art in ibispaint (mostly skullgirls fanart). unfortunately, practically everything from before 2020 is lost because it was on reddit accounts that i had deleted out of cringe. don't delete your old art ever!!! i do have this piece though, made in 2020 on krita with a mouse. my main inspirations were invader zim and other cartoons.

my artstyle took a lot of dips and turns around this time. i got back into anime, and it influenced my style in a way that i think made it really ugly and bad looking. i also refused to ever flip my canvas. i think this era actually held me back. here's an example.

anyway, by 2021, i had gotten into more anime that influenced my style in a different way. i forget the exact ones, but i did watch a lot of stuff from trigger (like BNA and LWA) at the time, and also got into enstars which influenced my compositions a lot. it's also around the time that nova in her current "space astronaut bunny" concept was born. i started experimenting with backgrounds, color palletes, and colored lines, which was crucial. i look back at this era pretty fondly. though i still refused to flip my canvas :D

by 2022, my artstyle looked like this -

(this is actually from dec 2021 but like. it's still what my artstyle looked like)

i had played world's end club and rewatched panty and stocking, and it changed my brain chemistry. i decided that my artstyle would be "60% anime, 40% western cartoon", and despite some shortlived phases where i'd go for a slightly different style, i still kept it up. looking at least year's art summary, though, you can see that i broke away from that style for something more anime. and also, i hardly ever experimented with colors anymore because i was focused on character design. i'm gonna be real i think everything after july looks like absolute bootycheeks. i hate this weird single tiny dot reflection style i had going on it looks like dogwater.

after 2022, my art was in a miserable transitional period where i had zero clue what direction i wanted to go in. but despite all that, this piece in particular is crucial. because i used halftones in the background. it's foreshadowing!!!

i continued like this for a while, until the time where i decided to play around with shapes with those vocaloid big 8 drawings. people really liked the shapes that i used in that one, and i found them fun to draw. so i started exaggerating more, and after i rewatched panty and stocking for the 307492020506th time, as well as invader zim for the 2nd time, my cartoony roots came back.

and then, when my art was already steadily improving, across the spiderverse dropped, and i watched it. funnily enough afterwards i had a big art block because i was just thinking, "you need to draw if you want to work on something as big as that! improve!!!!" which kind of held me back. but after all that, i decided to take a note out of ATSV (and comic books in general)'s book and start using halftones in my work. as well as that, i started focusing on lineart way more, and tried to play around with lineweight. which brings us to present day, where my latest art pieces look like this :

i still think that my artstyle needs a lot of work. even these pieces have issues when it comes to symmetry, values, and the like. but nowadays, though my art takes far longer now (as i've abandoned special pens and just do lineart with the hard dip pen in a kind of tedious way), i'm having more fun with it than i have in years. i think halftones fit my artstyle really well, and they're a unique way to "fill up" areas. now that i pay attention to lineart, i think it makes my art feel 'fuller', at least with more depth. did i mention my inspirations for this current 'phase' of my art? :0 i've been playing a lot of muse dash lately, and my pinterest boards are always full of stuff from TWEWY and megaman. there's far more than that, but in short, i want a sharp and striking style with bright colors. i know that you said a little bit of my progression and i basically dropped a whole essay 😭 ,,, but i really like talking about art in general even if i'm not very good at it. i hope this was interesting at the very least! here's the other post also:

[saleintothe90s]

Daily press, September 28, 1989

The more things change, the more they stay the same. 35 years ago people in South Carolina were still reeling from Hurricane Hugo. Very strange how people could just go to someone's house to donate (see left column) back then.

Imagine getting ready to get on a plane to London when you collapse at the airport.

I'd never heard of the comic Outland, it was a spinoff of Bloom County that ran only on Sundays. Here is Mortimer Mouse:

(eBay seller Erickson Comics and Paper)

I found this Sunday night, and then Monday night, I find out that Pete Rose died! VHS Tapes Old newspapers are magic.

Even in 1989, the clothes in these A&N ads already looked outdated. It was always like this with them. I could pull up a newspaper from 1994, and the clothes would look like the clothes people wore in ... 1989.

ooh, we have a Phar-Mor alert. We were not a Phar-Mor family, we did not visit the mythical store known as Phar-Mor. My mom said that area was too crowded. It was like a giant variety store with a pharmacy, right?

I was nosy, and looks like they broke up in 2001. So the Yorks were trying to gain "custody" of their embryo from a lab in Norfolk (they lived in California). I'm not sure if the couple were successful at having children though.

Oh no! It's our boy David Merritt! We remember him from the August 1, 1993 newspaper entry. Remember, his restaurant didn't open until 1992, and was hyping that it was going to open on April 7, 1990.

These ads are magnificent.

Old Mill? I gotta say it:

For you dead mall fans out there, both Outlets Ltd and Great American Outlet Mall are long gone.

I never thought that My Two Dads needed one censor, let alone two. I gotta watch My Two Dads, it has Paul Reiser and Dana from Step by Step! I love that podcast she has with Christine Lakin about Step by Step.

Speaking of censorship, STOPLESS GIRLS. I looked up the address, and looks like it was torn down.

No Cathy in this strip, but there are Fax jokes. Remember faxing in your lunch order? Onion rolls seem so old skool, I feel like I remember seeing them at the bakery at the grocery store when I was a real little kid, and then never again. Is it a regional thing? Do people not eat onion rolls in Hampton Roads anymore?

Garfield was upsetting that day.

OH I almost forgot. Speaking of upsetting:

A man on his bike was hit by a car down the street from the newspaper offices. So just you know, walk down the street and take a photo of it and put it on the front page of the local section. I hope Allen was ok. The McDonalds where it happened is long gone, but the building remains.

/edit/

So the day I went to publish this, I had to take the long way home from Suffolk, and I drove by this intersection on my way to the James River Bridge. Old newspapers ARE magic.

I know we make jokes about certain people putting raisins in potato salad, but what about raisins in your chicken.

I love the names of these raisin recipes! Silk Stockings?! Model T?! I would try a lil bite of each of these.

I can't remember where I mentioned this place, but it amuses me SO MUCH that back in the day you could go to Coliseum Mall and buy steaks.

wait. Bryers made jelly? I wonder if that's the same fruit that was in that yogurt they used to make that was so good. Breyers ice cream is soo bad now.

!! This was my friend Paul's mom! I about flipped when I saw this. This is exactly how five year old me remembers her. She would give me rides to school sometimes in her old jeep and would pick my mom up for room mothers.

Finally, this Eastern Airlines ad is beautiful. They had about a year and a half left, closed in 1991.

I completely forgot to post for September, I got 🦠 at the end of August that went into the first week of September, then I had to get ready for the Norfolk Zine fest, then then this weekend? Is Richmond Zine fest. Don't forget, my zines are available on my Etsy shop.

And there's a new design over at my TeePublic.

Facebook | Etsy | Retail History Blog | Twitter | YouTube Playlist | Random Post | Ko-fi donation | instagram / threads @thelastvcr​ | tik tok @ saleintothe90s | TeePublic Store

[thethirdromana]

Servalan's costumes, rated

I was supposed to be going out and doing fun things like bouldering tonight, but it's pouring with rain, so instead I'm staying in and looking at Blake's 7 screengrabs.

Screengrabs from here (they prefer their images copied, not linked) and record of what Servalan wears when from here.

As seen in Seek-Locate-Destroy.

We begin the list with what is - delightfully, amazingly - a relatively understated costume by Servalan standards. I guess it's the shorter sleeves over longer sleeves (a consistent Blake's 7 design choice, I guess that's just what fashion is like in the Grim Future) that gives the sense that this might be Dress Down Friday in the offices of the Federation. Almost dowdy in comparison with what's to come. Let's keep our powder dry for now. 5/10.

As seen in Project Avalon.

What amazes me about this costume is how silly it looks in screengrab form - seriously, take a moment to really look at Servalan's tiny head emerging turtle-like from the enormous quantity of furs - and yet, in motion, Jacqueline Pearce completely pulls it off. It's ridiculous, of course it is, but not for one moment do you doubt that this is the kind of thing that Servalan would choose to wear and feel comfortable in. It also gets an extra point or two for how the opening of the coat is tailored to the collar of the dress she wears underneath. 6/10.

As seen in Project Avalon and Deliverance.

There's a fun process that happens when you look at lots of Servalan's costumes (bearing in mind that I've preloaded all the images!) where you start to look at something like this and think, yeah, that looks normal enough, I could wear something like that to the office. And then you step back and go, no the fuck I couldn't, and you admire everyone involved in the process that brought us here. Love the beading and ruching, love the way that big collar actually looks quite comfortable, love the way that Jacqueline Pearce is lounging in it. 9/10.

As seen in Orac.

Trousers? On Servalan? Not sure how I feel about that, and I get the impression nor is she. On anyone else the coordination of white gloves and shiny white knee-high boots would be noteworthy, on Servalan it's just a Tuesday. Bit bland to be honest. 4/10.

As seen in Weapon.

There's an image limit to deal with, so I'm sacrificing at least one further fluffy overcoat thing in order to show more photos of this magnificent costume, and I make no apologies for that. Look at this swan-queen spun-sugar exposed-midriff confection of delight. Just when you think you've absorbed it all you notice the fishnet sleeves and the floor-length cape. Maybe it would be worth submitting to just a little bit of remorselessly evil oppression for the opportunity to float around all day dressed like this. 100/10.

As seen in Pressure Point.

It takes quite an outfit for you not to really notice the Sexy Stormtrooper vibe of the Mutoids in the background. And so Servalan is delivering quite an outfit here. What a jacket, what a hat. Ladies Day at Ascot never looked so good. 9/10.

As also seen in Pressure Point.

This is one of those beaded lizards that we all made when we were eight, right? I feel like I should like this: it's flattering, it's a bit weird, it's a nice dress with 25cm or more of a sparkly gecko giving it jazz hands across Servalan's chest, but somehow it's just not coming together for me. Maybe it's the lack of a massive collar. 5/10.

As seen in Trial and Voice from the Past.

No. Absolutely not. The nadir of Servalan outfits, from the weird double-breasted bodice, which I can only describe as military meets straitjacket, to the terrible combination of off-grey stockings and shiny silver shoes. Even Jacqueline Pearce is struggling to make this look good. 0/10.

As seen in Gambit.

From the nadir to very nearly the zenith. This is only one of two times that Servalan wears an outfit that isn't black or white and wow, does she make it count. The red! The glitter! The big frill thing that looks like the kind of adaptation a lizard might use to warn off predators! Also, not to get too pervy, but I think this has to get extra points for whatever machinations are preventing her boobs from making a bid from freedom from the astonishingly low neckline. 12/10.

As seen in The Keeper.

It's another big fluffy robe! But a different one from the previous big fluffy robe! I like to think she might be hiding snacks under there. 7/10.

As seen in Star One and Aftermath.

This is... a normal dress. Could be an understated bridal gown, plausibly a cocktail dress, but I could imagine both having this in my wardrobe and actually wearing it, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. It's just not what Servalan's costumes are for, you know? Obviously she looks great but where's the pizzazz, where's the oomph, where's the collar that could take someone's eye out? 6/10.

As seen in Aftermath and Powerplay.

This is technically Dayna's dress, but Servalan wears it for two whole episodes, so it counts. Which is a pity because it's just so drab. It shouldn't be! It has a funky triangle neckline, only one sleeve, and a ribbon arm wrap on the sleeveless side like she's heading off to a festival with hippies. Unfortunately the colour scheme brings to mind nothing so much as a faded bus seat and the smock-like cut is deeply unflattering. 2/10.

As seen in Volcano.

Things I like about this: for once Servalan gets to cover both shoulders, her arms and her cleavage. Jacqueline Pearce must have been so warm! It looks comfortable and practical. And dull, but I suppose it must be a lot of pressure on a Supreme Commander to look fabulous all the time. 4/10.

As seen in The Harvest of Kairos.

Fun fact, of all of Servalan's outfits this is actually the closest to something that I used to have in my wardrobe. Mine was navy blue on one side and stripey on the other, and the stripey side emerged into a similar enormous... sleeve... thing?? I never wore it to my day job, but you know, perhaps I should have done. These are the kinds of things that Servalan inspires us towards. 8/10.

As seen in Children of Auron.

And just like that, Servalan changes her colour scheme. Black, of course, looks just as good on her as white did, and I can't decide which I like better. What makes this outfit is the detailing: the collar, the little decorative slashes like a Tudor nobleman would use to show off his undershirt. 6/10.

As seen in Rumours of Death.

I just spent ages scrolling through red carpet photos to try to find the celebrity who I swear recently wore almost this exact outfit. And I can't find them. But never mind! This ticks so many boxes for me: it looks everso pretty, it seems wearable, and the floofy sleeve feels like it reflects plausible fashion trends of the Blake's 7 universe. 9/10.

As seen in Moloch.

Whereas this is not working for me. This is, thank goodness, Servalan's only foray into full-on 80s shoulders (unlike poor Avon, whose costumes suffered from this for the whole of series D) and I do not like it. The wide shoulders, made to look wider by the silver detailing, just serve to make the rest of her look small. And no one should make Servalan look small. 3/10.

As seen in Death-Watch.

Just a normal LBD, innit. 5/10.

As also seen in Death-Watch.

This is the same dress underneath with a semitransparent beaded cardi over the top. It should be fun and vaguely goth, but instead it reminds me of nothing so much as the kind of thing you throw on when you're worried you're showing too much skin for a funeral. Amazing how it makes her look about 10 years older too. I miss the days of the massive collars. 2/10.

As seen in Terminal.

For someone who is confidently writing a series of posts about costume design choices, I know exceptionally little about costume, and as a result I don't actually know what this is made of. Is it leather? Some kind of matt-looking PVC? It's a solid costume choice, anyway; I'm starting to think that the mark of a good Servalan outfit is how much difficulty I have with the image description. In this instance, I have no idea what the thing on her shoulder is and I love it. I also love that this is the 80s and therefore she's allowed to be on TV with a normal human belly. 8/10.

As seen in Traitor.

MAGNIFICENT SHOWSTOPPING ICONIC. She looks like a sexy raven and she's having such a great time. The way the points of her eyeliner match the points of her hair! This is the kind of thing that drives people to cosplay. I don't think I would get a buzzcut and dye my hair solely to get this look just right, but I'm also not ruling it out. 20/10

As seen in Animals.

It's so disappointing when you get an outfit spot on and then it's in the wash, and all you can manage from what's available in your wardrobe is an half-hearted replica. That seems to be what's happened to Servalan here. Sorry, Supreme Commander, but sexy raven lightning doesn't strike twice. 6/10.

As seen in Assassin.

Later on she wears a sort of lacy cardi over it, but I have an image limit and I'd only be repeating what I said for Death-Watch, so we're going to skip that one.

This is another normal dress. It's a perfectly fine normal dress; it's hard to see from the photo, but I like the fabric belt, and those are undeniably good earrings. Still, it's not exactly strange enough for a Servalan costume, and I feel for Jacqueline Pearce having to do this whole episode without a bra. 7/10

As seen in Games.

Just as I am running out of ideas for commentary, I feel like the Blake's 7 costume designers were running out of ideas for outfits. This feels like it has a bunch of disparate ideas thrown at it - polka dots! fluff! peephole thing! - but the vibe is of a reality TV show fashion challenge where they have a box of stuff and 20 mins to turn it into a dress. 4/10.

As seen in Sand.

This is a floor-length dress, but it's best in close-ups: it's the detail that matters. It looks pretty, comfortable, and quite soft. It's a nice costume, but is it really a Servalan costume? It doesn't scream command like some of the others on this list. 5/10.

As seen in Orbit.

Don't worry about what I cut to be able to include two photos again, because this is worth it. From the front it's good but not great (though I'm glad she gets a bit more boob support in this one!) but from the back? Superb. She's wearing the splendid earrings from Assassin again, but here they also reflect the detailing on the back of the dress - oh, it's just a delight. A very creditable note to end on. 9/10.

[linasofia]

A Shooting Star

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l Part 6 l Part 7

Fandom: The Hobbit

Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield x OC Vega

Summary: Lady Vega loves to sneak out to Erebor’s rampart to study the night sky, but one night, an unexpected visitor joins her. It is the beginning of a story whose end only the stars can tell.

Warnings: none

Special thanks to @lathalea & @legolasbadass for all your support and feedback. 💙⭐️

A small gush of wind met Vega, daughter of Vimar, as she climbed the many stairs to the rampart. Since she left her lantern by the wall, her only guidance was the moon. Thankfully, it was a clear night, and the pale light coming from the grand silver coin in the sky was enough to illuminate her path. As she silently entered the rampart, she felt the usual excitement tingling in her body. She knew she was not allowed to be there, but it was the best place for stargazing, if she did not count the mountain slope outside the gate, and it was worth the risk of being discovered. Without making a sound, she hurried to her secret spot, hidden behind a large block of stone—remains from a battle long before she came to live under the Mountain.

Vega rested her back against the rough wall and took out her book from the pocket in her skirt. She was grateful for choosing her warm stockings of finest mountain goat wool; the wind on the rampart was colder than she had expected. Her long winter shawl covered her upper body, and she pulled it tighter. She should have taken the heavy cloak instead, but it was too late to go back now. Besides, she had endured worse weather on the rampart. Vega opened the book carefully, found the most recent of her notes and peered up. Her trained eye easily located the stars of her people’s most important constellation; the magnificent Durin’s Crown. Every year, when a feast was held to celebrate Durin’s Day, the constellation could be seen right above the Mountain. Now, however, when the days were much shorter, it was set far to the west. She smiled. A handful more full moons, and then she would close the circle and be back at the first page in her notebook. She had stood on the rampart many nights and studied the constellations' quiet movements over the sky. It was a fascinating hobby, but not completely without danger. The rampart was high, and the darkness could be compact, at least when the new moon resembled a curved, thin chain of mithril. In addition, there was obviously always the risk of being discovered. Vega preferred not to tell anyone about her own private escapades. Especially not her father. In his eyes, she was still a young girl with little or no understanding of what was considered dangerous. The fact that she followed in her mother’s footsteps and refused to marry any of the lords she was presented to, out of duty, only fueled the old man's conviction that she did not understand what was best for her. Her mother, on the other hand, supported her strong will and constantly defended her daughter’s decision in public.

Vega grew up in the Blue Mountains, and as the daughter of a trusted construction advisor to the king, she lived what many would describe as a relatively comfortable life. Their home was always filled with her father’s construction drawings, books, and strange tools. During her first years, her father would not let her near his precious drawings, but as she grew older, he opened up another world to her, where the symbols, numbers and lines started to make sense. Vega believed it was her father’s work that laid the foundation for her interest in trying to understand things written or drawn by others long before her time. When she found an old map, she instantly tried to visualize the places, and eventually, she started to dream about adventures far beyond her people’s borders.

After King Thorin and his company had reclaimed Erebor, it did not take long before a messenger with the king’s summons reached the Blue Mountains. Vega’s father quickly answered the call and packed his most important belongings. Then, less than a year later, he arranged for his wife and daughter to make the same journey. She still remembered the excitement she felt as a young woman when their caravan set out toward their new home. Vega had heard many old tales about the great treasures of the Lonely Mountain, but also songs of unspeakable grief. She could not wait to see the great halls with her own eyes, and her mother repeatedly assured her it would be worth the long absence of her father. He had an important role to take on as the King of Carven Stone had returned to the Mountain. That was now many years ago, and Vega had grown, both in body and mind, since then.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots reached her ears. She drew nearer to the large stone and hid in its shadow. Her heart was banging in her chest, and her throat tightened, making it hard to breathe, as if she was deep down in the dusty coal mine under the Blue Mountains—a place restricted to the strongest miners among her people. Was this the night she finally was to be discovered? A tall shadow appeared on the stone floor in front of her, but she could not see the dwarf for the massive block of granite. She waited, desperately trying not to make any sound, as the shadow slowly moved closer. Then a broad figure walked right by her and stopped only a few arm’s lengths away. The pale light of the moon fell upon the male, and it made the rich fur on his cloak shimmer. It reminded her of a tale she once heard; about a rare fox who changes color—from almost black to white—when the first snow falls. From behind, the cloak in front of her looked vaguely familiar. In the darkness, all things appear to be grey, but Vega instinctively knew she had seen that cloak before. Admired it, even. The man searched his pockets and pulled out a long, thin item. A small flash of light tore the darkness apart, and when he turned his face to shield his pipe from the wind as he lit it, Vega stared—horrified—at the dwarf’s regal profile. The tobacco glowed as he inhaled loudly, and then a thin cloud of white smoke seeped from his nostrils. The dark, pleased hum that followed made something stir in her lower body, and Vega let out an involuntary gasp. The king instantly turned his head towards the dark corner, and her heart almost stopped. With a hand over her mouth, she held her breath.

“Who’s there? Step out of the shadow!” the king demanded, his voice raised, but not to its full capacity.

Vega took a deep breath and forced her feet to obey. When she stepped out from her hiding place, the moon appeared to be brighter, and she gracefully curtsied as the ruler of Erebor’s piercing stare met hers. The look on his face shifted from annoyance to surprise.

“Good evening, My King.”

“My Lady, I did not expect to meet anyone here. What in Mahal’s name brings you to this dark place?”

Vega hid her book behind her back. “I’m simply looking at the view.” She tried to control the tremble in her voice, but the rush of adrenaline made it impossible.

“The view?” The king looked over the edge of the rampart. He could see lights from the city of Dale, but other than that, the night offered nothing spectacular.

“Surely you must struggle to see anything interesting at all.”

Vega gazed up with a broad smile. “Not that view. This!” She pointed above their heads, where countless stars silently stared back at them.

Silence fell heavily between them. Thorin smoked his pipe while searching his memory for constellations he learned long ago, when he was a much younger dwarf. He could only remember a few of them. Back then, Frerin was much more interested in these stars and always waited patiently for his older brother to locate Durin’s Crown. Thorin’s heart ached at the memory. His brother’s death had removed the joy from so many activities, stargazing was only one of them.

He glanced at the lady standing beside him, her chin lifted and her eyes fixed on the sky. She seemed lost in her thoughts, and the smile still lingered on her lips. Her dark hair was braided in a beautiful pattern—the style popular among the women from the Blue Mountains—and then he spotted a bead with her family's name. He smiled. When he first saw her, he was unsure who she was, but as he looked closer, he could clearly see the resemblance. She was truly her father’s daughter, but beautiful and with a disarming smile.

”Is Lord Vimar aware of your late visit to the rampart?” He could hear her surprised gulp, and she quickly turned her focus on him instead. She had not realized he recognized her, and Thorin met her startled gaze with a calm smile. ”Do not worry, My Lady, your secret is safe with me.”

”Thank you, My King.” She smiled back, a sweet and slightly mischievous smile. ”No, my father would probably lock the door to my chamber if he ever found out what I was doing during the nights.”

”Nights? Are you telling me that I could have had the pleasure of meeting you here on other nights previous to this one?”

Vega wanted to smack herself. Why did her mouth speak too much as soon as the king rested his captivating azure gaze on her?

”I…” she did not know how to continue. How could she explain the thrill and the longing to do something forbidden? What it felt like to slip out in the cover of darkness and just be alone with her dreams and imagination. ”I’m afraid that is the truth,” she then admitted.

”Did you bring a book to read in the dark as well? Your eyes must be much better than mine.” The king sounded almost amused when he spotted the leather-bound piece in her hand, and Vega instantly pressed it against her chest.

”It contains only a few hasty notes I made for myself to read, together with drawings of constellations I have seen. It is nothing of importance.” Vega tried to gain control of her own words; she always spoke too much when she was nervous.

”Would you allow me to see it? I am certain your handwriting is neat and a pleasure to read.”

Her heart hammered again, just as it did when she was hiding, but this time it was not from fear. Was the King of the Longbeards really interested in the stars, or was he only being polite? She searched his face for the truth but found only honesty in his eyes. For a short while, she allowed herself to admire his prominent nose and full beard before she remembered she had no right to gaze upon her king like that.

”My King,” she hesitated, but was tempted to share her findings, if only to make him stay a little longer. Never before had she spoken to someone with such powerful charisma, and he made her very curious. ”It is nothing like the maps in the Royal Library of Erebor,” she then heard herself say. ”But I will be honored to show it to you.” Her hands trembled slightly as she opened the book, but when she tried to offer it to him, he took a step closer.

”Please, My Lady, explain it to me.”

Vega had to take a few deep breaths before she mustered enough calmness to explain her notes. When she spoke, the king listened intently, but every time he pointed at one of her drawings of Durin’s Crown, she couldn’t stop herself from staring at the heavy rings adorning his thick fingers. He had the hands of a warrior—large and calloused—but something in the way he let his fingertips glide over her stained papers told her those hands could do more than just harm.

The notes were indeed created for her eyes only, but after the initial insecurity, Vega found herself growing bolder in the king’s presence. As he leaned a little closer to her, no doubt to see better, a faint hint of pine and leather caught her senses, and it made her head spin, just like the strong tobacco she once was persuaded to try. She promised herself after that single time, to never smoke anything equally strong again. But she wouldn’t mind feeling this type of warm dizziness again. Then Vega shook her head to clear her mind. Who knew the alluring scent of the mightiest of all dwarves alive could evoke such delusional ideas.

”Considering all constellations, which one do you find most mesmerizing?” His question came unexpectedly, spoken in a much lower voice than before. It felt very personal, and Vega shivered. She knew what he probably was expecting from her, but eventually, she decided to answer honestly.

”Of all the constellations and the tales told, I must say I have two favorites, next to Durin’s Crown, of course.” She smiled warmly when a thick black eyebrow rose in surprise. ”The first one is The Hammer.” Vega pointed to the east, where nine stars proudly formed a large hammer.

Thorin nodded, remembering the constellation from Frerin’s rare attempts to actually teach him something useful. He was not sure about the tale; Frerin sometimes changed the story, only so he later could claim that Thorin remembered it wrong.

”And the second?” he asked, gently holding the unusual emerald gaze of the lady beside him. Thorin found her truly fascinating, and the way her voice enchanted him, as she spoke passionately about the stars, made him wish she was a member of his council instead of her elderly father. The endless discussions would be much more bearable if she was.

”The second one cannot be seen now. You will have to wait until spring before you can spot Raven’s Nest in the east.”

”Is it easy to find?”

”If you know what to look for, I supposeit’s easy. It’s one of the smallest constellations I know of, but I love the tale.”

Thorin smiled. He wanted to question her about the tale, just so she would keep talking, but he realized he could not ask her to stay on the rampart all night. The icy wind was growing in strength and the hour was late. He had gone to the rampart for the possibility of clearing his mind after a long evening session with the council. Instead, he had stumbled right onto Lord Vimar’s daughter’s secret stargazing spot. He had completely forgotten his manners and did not introduce himself properly. And what was even worse—he had no name on the lady in question.

”My Lady, even if your father sometimes speaks of his family, I do not think I have ever heard your name. May I ask for it?” His words were soft, and less formal than their initial conversation.

Vega stared at the king. Had he just showed interest in knowing her name? She could not understand why, but she had no intention of denying her king. The unexpected warmth in his eyes made her weak. His raven hair rested against the fur of his cloak but as he turned his head, the wind caught strands of it and blew life into the dark locks. She briefly wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked.

”Vega,” she almost whispered, her voice suddenly failing her as a result of her improper thought.

”Lady Vega, you have been most kind and shared your private notes. I thank you for that. But I’m afraid I need to ask you to return to the warmth of your chamber, before you get too cold.”

”Of course.” She averted her gaze, afraid he would see the disappointment in her eyes. The most exciting moment in a very long time would soon be over, and Vega pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She could do nothing to stretch their chance meeting further.

”I bid you a good night then.” He gave her a short nod.

”Good night,” she echoed as she made a poor attempt to curtsy. Her knees wouldn’t cooperate. Thankfully, King Thorin didn’t seem to notice, or care. All he did was grace her with another warm smile.

”And Lady Vega, do not hide in the shadows next time. I might mistake you for an intruder.”

She mustered one last smile in return. Then she watched him disappear from her—no longer—secret spot on the rampart. His cloak's movement as he rounded the corner was the last thing she saw of him. Vega took a deep breath and the cold air in her lungs made her cough. The king was right; she really should get back home. As she climbed down the stairs and found her lantern at the same place as she left it, she couldn’t stop thinking of his last words to her. Next time. Would there really be a next time?

💙 If you like my writing, please consider spreading the love and reblogging.💙

Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @enchantzz @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @kibleedibleedoo @mariannetora @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra @rachel1959 @knittastically @jaskierthelover @quiall321 @medusas-hairband @fulltimecrazy @s0ftd3m0n @emrfangirl @glimmering-darling-dolly @lilith15000 @clumsy-wonderland @chaikittie @theawkwardbutterfly @legolaslovely

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed.

[littlequeenies]

BEDSITTER GIRL JANE ASHER [1966]

I'm sure that many of you are already quite familiar with this photograph of Jane Asher, it has been reproduced several times in various fashion books over the years, but it was originally published in a magazine editorial called The Time, The Place, The Dress, and (if you still need it) The Food, by Molly Parkin for Nova in 1966, and printed poster-sized over a double-page layout, measuring 51.5 cm x 34cm for full visual impact! Molly commissioned Ossie Clark and Celia Birtwell to design the dress especially for the feature, she specifically wanted something which represented not only the fast-paced, disposable, transient nature of the current youthful attitude towards fashion trends but also something with enough decorative value to end up on the wall in a bedsitter as pop paraphernalia after it had been worn at the weekend, rather than thrown out with the trash!

So what better candidate for potential 'wall art' than a printed paper dress! Celia painted her initial ideas in gouache, inspired by the work of Paul Poiret and illustrations from La Gazzete du Bon Ton. The finished designs were then printed onto a suitable Johnson & Johnson manufactured paper by the 'Art to Wear' company of Zika Ascher, and the dresses were made to order for the sum of 17s 6d each. I love the fact that Celia also took it upon herself to paint the vinyl floor tiles in the mock-up bedsit, mirroring the design detail from the border of the garment to complete the overall look. And that Molly (a woman after my own heart), attributed just about every single item on display in the magazine feature to its original source, from the Biba beads right down to the Woolworth lollipops and sticks of rock!

On the floor: Jane Asher in a dress designed by Ossie Clark made of printed paper fabric designed by Celia Birtwell; made to order in small, medium and large sizes, approximately 17s 6d. Bangle at Woolworths, 2s 9d. Vinyl floor tiles painted by Celia Birtwell. Lilac patent shoe by Russell & Bromley, 7½ gns. Amber patent shoe by Elliot, 8 gns. Coloured cigarette by Sobraine, 7s 2d for twenty. Coloured crepe stockings by Russell & Bromley, 6s 11d. Pop tin tray by Goods & Chattels. 9s 6d.

Close-up of the design detail from the border of the dress. 

Above: One of Celia's initial designs for the paper dress rendered in gouache, inspired by the work produced at the Martine School of Decorative Arts in Paris. The school was set up by designer Paul Poiret in 1911 at 'La Maison Poiret' in an endeavour to realise his dream of creating a decorative arts movement in France which would be on par with the new developments in the arts taking place in Vienna and Germany at this time. The students mainly consisted of young working class girls between the ages of 12-15 years old, Poiret encouraged them to work freely from nature, organising trips to the countryside and conservatories whenever possible, but apart from this input they were otherwise without artistic supervision. His role was merely to stimulate their artistic taste without influencing or criticising them, in order to maintain the purity of the original source of inspiration in the work. He would then select a range from the finished designs which were suitable for reproduction and have them applied to fabrics, wallpapers, carpets, cushions and ceramics.

The work received an excellent response amongst art circles, and following an exhibition at the Salon d'Automne in 1912 the demand was such that Poiret opened a retail outlet called 'Atelier Martine' on Rue du Faubourg St Honoré. With a very favourable review in Vogue, the Martines went from strength to strength, also using their designs to create magnificent large scale murals, transforming hotels, shops, offices, private houses and the studio of dancer Isadora Duncan into exotic oriental palaces in the process. An international reputation was quickly established, however, the gathering momentum of the Martines success was  stopped in its tracks by the outbreak of WW1 in 1914. The school closed for the duration of the war, with many of the students relocated to a safer environment. Business eventually resumed as normal in the aftermath, but although Poiret tried several times to re-establish his career and the Martine style, most notably in the mid 1920s with an extravagant display at the International Art Deco Fair in Paris, both failed to ever regain the immense popularity of their glory days. 

Three designs for round carpets, typical of the Martine style, from the workbooks of the School of Decorative Arts.  

The Table: green paper drum table by Hull Traders Ltd, £3 13s. On the table: Large glass jar, £2, full of Smarties, Liquorice Allsorts and Barratt's assorted sweets; glass-topped storage jar, 6s 6d, containing dolls' eyes from Pedigree Dolls; spice jars, 2s 9d; glass dish, 7s 6d a pair, contain bath oils at Boots, 6s 6d. All the glassware from The Scientific Glassblowing Co Ltd. Hexagonal coloured boxes by Goods & Chattels, £1 17s 6d a set.

On the wall: wooden beads at Biba's, 11s. Striped shoes at Fifth Avenue, £3 19s 11d. Red and green shoe by Walter Steiger for Bally, 9½ gns. Bead bracelet at Biba's, 5s 6d. Dress designed by Ossie Clark of printed paper fabric designed by Celia Birtwell, made to order, 17s 6d. Plastic earrings by Paco Rabanne, £1 10s. Bangle at Woolworth, 2s 9d. Pink patent shoe by Russell & Bromley, £3 19s 11d. Woolworth lollipops. Paper roses from Portobello Road market. Dried flowers at Natural Fern Display Ltd, from 3s 6d each. Large wooden beads at Biba's, £1 2s 6d. Pearly Queen dress from Hector Binney stall, Bermondsey market.

The Bed: emerald green wooden bed by Gary Griffiths at Vasa, approximately £30. Green sheets at John Lewis, £5 19s 6d a set. Orange and red shoe by Walter Steiger at Bally, 9½ gns. Leather and suede shoe by Salvatore Ferragamo, 14 gns. Woolworth's rock, 1s a stick.

IMAGE CREDITS

All content scanned and transcribed by Sweet Jane from an original article by Molly Parkin for NOVA, September 1966. Model; Jane Asher. All Photographs by Duffy. Celia Birtwell design in gouache scanned from Celia Birtwell by Celia Birtwell.  *The Close-up of border design detail on the printed dress courtesy of the V&A collection. Carpet designs from the Martine School of Decorative Arts were scanned from A Fashion For Extravagance by Sara Bowman.

LINKS

Visit the Celia Birtwell website here. Listen to Molly Parkin on Desert Island Discs here. Watch Great Lives: The Molly Parkin Documentary here. Read about the life and times of of Zika Ascher here. View an issue of La Gazette du Bon Ton from 1914 here. And finally, read more about the career of designer Paul Poiret  and view examples of his work here.

From @sweetjanespopboutique blogspot

[aaronburrdaily]

October 28, 1809

Couche at 1. Rose at 7. Called on J. de C. at 10. Was received by Madame with very engaging frankness and ease. Passed an hour with the family. Got some books, and he sent his servant for others for me from the King's library. Young brother of Mr. J. de C. went to show me Puerari's; out; left card. Had scarcely got home, when Puerari called on me. We walked to see the library of Classenborg, about which I have a pretty story to tell you. This library is confined to natural history and botany, and is magnificent in those departments. It is in care of Professor Ramus, to whom I was there introduced. He tendered himself to go with me on Sunday to the Palace of Rosen, and to show me the collections of coins and medals, which is said to be splendid. I shall make some addition to Gampy's stock here. You can't think what trouble the little varlet has brought me into. Having on my arrival inquired where some coins and medals could be had, it was immediately noised about that I was a medal and coin hunter, and scientific, of course, in numismatique.¹ Puerari introduced me as such to Ramus, for which I could have boxed him. Dined to-day, for the first time, at the table d'hote,² and am so well pleased with the company that shall dine there henceforth when not engaged abroad. At 6 walked out to see the illuminations and fireworks at the palace of Fredericksberg, about 1 1/2 miles, on occasion of the arrival of the King and Queen. You must know that the Queen has been passing some months (ever since the death of the late King) with her father in Holstein, and has never yet been seen here as Queen, which is the cause of all this stir. And so it happened that we all, about 30,000 of us, came back as we went; the King and Queen had not arrived; there was neither illumination nor fireworks; we were all quite sad. The report is that the King cannot get across the Belt a cause du³ British fleet. Called on Schlegel this morning; out.

1 The science of coins and medals. 2 For table d'hôte. Literally, host's or guest's table. A complete meal regularly served in a public dining room. 3 Because of the.