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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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A halloween fic where Leah and her gf go to a Williamson family halloween party. Gf secretly dresses up as the always serious Lioness captain and everyone finds its hilarious except Leah (maybe she finds it kinda hot lol)…

narcissist II l.williamson

"oh she is going to hate this." laura laughed as you emerged from your room, the younger girl waiting patiently in the living room while you'd put the finishing touches to your halloween costume.

"thats the goal!" you grinned with a wink, giving yourself a once over in the hallway mirror, adjusting your hair a little. "you look so good lau!" you beamed at laura who was dressed up as cowgirl barbie, having somehow convinced kim to go as her counterpart western ken, who agreed to meet you there.

you'd all been invited to a halloween party thrown by leah's cousin holly, which was an annual tradition among the williamson family and their close friends. leah had been out all day having gone over there this morning, promising to help holly set everything up.

you'd gotten out of it given you had picked up a last minute shift this morning and promised a very nervous laura that she could come over and get ready with you.

with most of the girls away on international break the austrian had spent nearly everyday at yours and leahs shared home seeking out the company she missed when her house mates were away.

not that you or leah minded at all, both looking at laura like a younger sister. you'd always fit in well with leahs friends and team mates since the two of you started seeing one another a few years ago, though you'd become exceptionally close to the fellow members of her coveted infamous acl club.

you glanced down as your phone buzzed, alex texting that she was outside in an uber. "scottys here." you informed, grabbing your house keys and lauras hand, the two of you running to the car with a laugh after you'd locked up.

"jesus christ alex!" you jumped in shock as you opened the door and came face to face with the older woman, who grinned at you devilishly, dressed head to toe like a sexy pennywise the clown. "that is a nightmare." laura laughed, climbing into the car alongside you.

"you look gorgeous!" alex pointed toward laura as the driver pulled out from the curb. "you...well, you look bang on mate." alex nodded her approval as you grinned happily. "down to the very last detail." you pulled a very stern face, causing both women to laugh loudly.

you'd opted that out of all the options you had, the best and most top tier costume you could pull off was to dress up as your lovingly strict girlfriend in her natural element.

so you were clad out in her favourite england kit from the euros with williamson splashed across your back, having to roll the top of her shorts twice so they didn't hang down to your knees. you'd even pulled your socks up and stole an old pair of her boots which you had no doubt you'd hear about from the girl in question soon enough.

then there was the thin black headband which sat on your head pulling your fringe out of your face, leahs now having grown out beyond the need to use it but you'd still given her endless amounts of shit while she'd needed it so it seemed a perfect accessory.

the final cherry on top was the one love captains armband wrapped tightly around your bicep, loaned to you by katie before she'd flown off to ireland for national camp. having laughed till her stomach hurt when you'd explained what you needed it for she made you promise to send her lots of photos.

pulling up to hollys house the party was clearly in full swing as there was cars everywhere and people lounging around smoking on her front lawn, every single sort of weird and wonderful costume in sight.

thanking the driver the three of you slipped out and made your way inside, holly spotting you right away as she grinned and hurried over. she hugged alex who dipped with a wink, spotting some of her friends across the room.

laura was next to go, kim waving her over where she sat with amber, jen and a few others in the living room, the sight of the arsenal captain with a cow print tracksuit on making you let out a loud laugh as she winked and playfully rolled her eyes, dipping her hat at you as she stood to embrace laura.

"and you...babe you are a spitting image!" holly grinned after she'd hugged you tightly, holding you away from her at arms length and looking you up and down.

"god the world can barely handle one leah williamson, but two? good luck to us all!" her brother ben appeared beside her, hugging you tightly and spinning you around before darting away to mingle.

"where is she?" you asked, holly taking your hand and dragging you away to make you a drink. "outside with her mum i think, and i need to see her live reaction." holly handed you a drink and again pulled you away with her.

you spotted your girlfriend stood by the fire pit in the middle of the yard, surrounded by a few of her family members you'd met several times before, following holly over as amanda spotted you and the girl gestured for her not to alert leah.

"well hello sexy, is it hot today or is it just you?" you smacked your girlfriend on the bum as she so often greeted you, the older girl spinning around as you did, having been messaging all day how much she missed you.

though once she actually took you in you were unable to read the look on her face, her family members all exploding into a round of applause and whistles as you took a bow.

"leah williamson; england captain, european champion." you held your hand out toward her mum with a blank stare, and a near perfect impression of your girlfriends thick milton keynes accent, sending the older woman into a deeper bout of hysterics as you were showered with compliments.

"you are unbelievable." finally finishing making the rounds hugging her various family members leah was next as you returned in front of her, sending her a beaming smile and a wink.

"like it? think its pretty accurate." you again made fun of your girlfriends tendency to replace her th's with f's as even leah was unable to hold back her smile.

"you might be fucking annoying but i have to say i do love it baby girl, imitation is the best form of flattery." leah smirked, pecking your lips a few times as the two of you hugged tightly.

"you're looking proper fit babe." you grinned, your girlfriend dressed up like a sexy jack sparrow, the bandana and corset combination doing wonders for you. "are you going to speak like that all night?" leah grimanced at the thickly dramatised impression of her accent.

"sure am, welcome to my every day reality my love."

"leah where are we going!" you laughed as she dragged you through the house by your hand, both of you a little tipsy you stumbled on your feet as she pushed you into hollys room.

"you look so fucking good tonight babe its driving me crazy." leah breathed out, shutting the door and pressing you up against it, hands gripping your hips.

"are you seriously telling me you're finding me dressed as you a turn on right now?" you laughed quietly, arms wrapping around her shoulders and fiddling with the baby hairs on the nape of her neck as she gave you a toothy grin.

"what can i say baby? you're hot, i'm hot. put them together? i very much like what i see." leah whistled with a smirk making your eyes roll playfully. "such a narcissist." you teased, standing on your tippy toes to connect your lips to hers.

your head spun as her lips ravaged yours, the kiss desperate and messy and passionate, the older girl doing her very best to show you just how much she'd missed you today, and just how much she was enjoying your little get up tonight.

"leah." you released a breathy moan as she took your bottom lip between her teeth, tugging on it as her eyes locked with yours and winked, sucking your lip into her mouth and pressing you even harder into the door as her tongue slipped into your mouth now taking full control of the kiss.

but tonight, tonight you were determined to stay in character.

you pushed back against her taller form, walking her back until her legs hit the bed and she fell, the kiss breaking for a moment before her hands grabbed at you possessively, tagging you to straddle her lap.

"i think you should keep this on when i have you a whining mess underneath me later my girl. you know i love when you wear my name." leahs hands slipped under her jersey which adorned your top half, short nails scratching your abs before she tugged teasingly at the material.

"maybe i'll even let you wear my euros medal if you beg me nicely enough." leah smiled wickedly, hands gently sliding up higher on your torso until you hastily grabbed them and pinned them to her sides.

"mm tempting but not tonight lee baby, tonight i'm the captain." you breathed out against her lips, ducking your head back with a smug smile as she tried to dive back in to kiss you.

though before anything else could happen a fist was pounding at the door. "i swear to god the two of you better be out out of my room and fully clothed in 0.5 seconds or i'll kick this fucking door and your heads in!" holly yelled menacingly, hitting the door again as you and leah shared a grin.

"don't worry love, this isn't over yet-" you paused, leaning back to proudly tap the lionesses badge on your chest.

"the english are never done."

#leah williamson x reader #woso blurbs #engwnt #woso x reader #leah williamson #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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taylorswiftstyle · 8 months ago

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The Eras Tour | Fearless section | Version 4

Naeem Khan 'Beaded Fringe Tank Dress' - $4,995.00

I’ve always felt the power of fashion is its ability to demarcate time.

In Taylor’s world, she’s used it as a visual tool to anchor that version of herself at a specific moment in her life. So when I first saw grainy images of this fringey dress, that sparkly guitar, plus black boots I felt immediately transported to 2009 and the Fearless Tour. Then, Taylor wore a strikingly similar fringed dress by Mandalay and accessorized it with a pair of knee high black boots by Everybody. Those boots were a new-to-her signature that was the successor for the cowboy boots she used to wear for Debut-era performances.

To me one of the key functions of the Eras Tour, especially in the form of its costuming, has been toeing the line between referencing eras of the past while also giving them a slightly refreshed, modern facelift. The first three Fearless dress iterations on the Eras Tour all felt recognizably ‘Taylor’, just newer. I loved the lighter metallic, but still Western-shaped, boot that was a modernized nod to the sundress and cowboy boots of her youth.

But this! Hand to heart, full swoon eyes in effect feels more copy + paste than reference + refresh. The only difference is the absence of ringlets and perhaps a few more heartbreaks on her sleeves.

To me, it’s really giving that we were both young when I first saw you. The transportive magic of fashion (and the Eras Tour).

Photo by Kevin Mazur/TAS24 via Getty Images

#taylor swift #tour #dress #naeem khan #eras tour

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junipernight · 6 months ago

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Yangvik Week 2024 - Days 2 and 4

Prompts: Touch Starved, Family, and Hair

___________________________________________

Balm

“Alright, I’m ready,” said Yangchen, stepping out from behind the finned-caribou hide that partitioned the tent.

Kavik squinted at her. She was dressed in the blue furs of the water tribe, in a knee-length parka with a moon motif on the front panel. Her hair had been swept up and folded into a bun, with two strands on either side of her face hanging in braids and adorned with bone beads. Her arrows were completely covered by the warm mittens on her hands and the thick fringe over her forehead.

She looked every inch a Northern Water Tribe girl - even her eyes, normally a dark gray, seemed to have taken on a slightly icy hue, as if they were reflecting the arctic world around them—but there was something off about the disguise.

Kavik snapped his fingers as he figured it out. “You look like my gran-gran!” he said. Then his thoughts caught up with his mouth, and he said, “Wait, that didn’t come out right.”

Luckily, Yangchen seemed more amused than offended. “How was it supposed to come out, then?”

Kavik poked the bun at the nape of her neck. “Your hair. No one younger than my gran-gran wears their hair like that.”

Yangchen frowned. This had been her favorite way to do her hair, in one past life or another. She hadn’t even thought about it before tying her hair up—her fingers had remembered all on their own.

Thinking back on her time training in Agna Qel’a, however, she realized Kavik was right. She would stick out if she wore her hair like this, and it was very important that she blend in for the sake of the mission: Today, she was meeting Kavik’s extended family in Long Stretch.

And if everything went well, they would never suspect that “Ilagik” was the Avatar.

Yangchen peeked out the tent flap: the tundra greeted her, wide open and vibrant and abuzz with the frenetic energy of late summer. The sun was obscured by a light mist, but she could make out a bright spot low on the eastern horizon. “We have some time before we have to leave,” she said. “I can try again.”

“Let me help you,” Kavik offered.

Yangchen raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“My cousin taught me how to braid when I was little,” he said defensively, as if he were offended that she doubted him.

Yangchen shrugged, and flounced onto the nearest bedroll. “Ok then. You do it.”

Kavik took off his mittens and sat behind her. He pulled out the beads, untied the ribbons, and unpinned the fake fringe. Then he began to comb her hair. He started at the bottom, gently running his fingers through the strands and gently teasing apart tangles. Gradually he worked his way up to the roots of her hair.

Without meaning to, Yangchen leaned back into his touch, her eyes drifting shut. Having her hair brushed felt nice, nicer than she would have expected. It wasn’t an experience she was accustomed to; the last time someone had brushed her hair would have been back at the Western Air Temple. The older Air Nomad girls taught the younger ones how to deal with hair after they turned old enough; growing one’s hair out was an important marker of growing up. Yangchen didn’t remember whose hands had brushed her hair and taught her how to hold the comb, only that it hadn’t been Jetsun.

Yangchen winced.

“Sorry,” said Kavik, thinking the motion had been in response to something he did.

Yangchen suddenly noticed that there wasn’t much braiding going on. “Are you playing with my hair?”

Kavik paused guiltily, “... maybe.”

“Keep doing it, it feels nice.”

Kavik was happy to oblige. He ran his hands through her hair some more, watching the silky strands slip through his fingers.

“Tell me about your cousin,” she said. “The one who taught you how to braid.”

Kavik began to separate her hair into sections. “I have a lot of cousins, but my favorite is Yuka. Every year, we used to see each other at fish camp, and we’d all go everywhere together like a pack of porcupine seals. Yuka is the oldest, and Kalyann and I used to think that cloudberries sprouted wherever she walked. She’s really smart, and she always had the best ideas for games.

“One summer, she was teaching my girl cousins how to braid their hair, and I cried until she let me learn too.”

Yangchen grinned as she imagined Kavik, baby-cheeked and innocent and tearful about being excluded.

��Real tears?” she inquired. “Or were you a master liar even then?”

“Very real tears,” Kavik assured her solemnly. . “I would never lie to Yuka.”

Yangchen snorted, not believing him for a minute. “Will I get to meet Yuka?”

“I hope so. I heard she’s married now; hopefully she didn’t move away.”

“Do you mind if I use a little hair grease?” Kavik asked, holding up a small jar.

“Umm...” Yangchen was willing to eat meat, if that was what was available. She was aware that the clothes she wore and the tent they were sheltered in were made from the hides of dead animals… hides which had been carefully waterproofed with the same animal fat Kavik now held up, no doubt. And yet, it still made her uncomfortable, the idea of rubbing cooked animal remains directly on her person.

She was about to say yes anyway, for the disguise and because it wasn’t really a big deal, when Kavik surprised her.

“It’s from Taku,” he said, twisting open the lid. Instead of the stench of animal fat, a fruity and sweet aroma filled the air, taking her by surprise. “I think it’s some kind of fruit oil.”

Yangchen’s shoulders relaxed. “Sure.”

Kavik rubbed the grease onto his hands and began to massage it into her hair. Whatever fruit it was, it was familiar. The scent called her back to some other place, in some other lifetime, but Yangchen resisted, focusing on the soft patter of rain on the tent and the gentle tugging of her companion’s hands through her hair; he was massaging her scalp now, digging his fingers into the roots of her hair; this was even better than the brushing.

No one touched Yangchen anymore, outside of occasional bouts of physical combat. In the western air temple, she had grown up in close proximity to dozens of girls, with whom she’d had very little physical boundaries. Her sisters and she had piled on the same beds, and huddled for warmth during festivals at the northern temple, and tackled each other both on and off the air ball court. And of course Jetsun had always been her greatest source of comfort, holding her close and anchoring her to the present when she was wracked by the grief and anguish of a thousand past lives. After Jetsun had died and Yangchen had left the temple, she’d been left with almost no one. Just a lonely figure at the top of an air spout, suspended in front of an audience.

(Except for Nu Jian, when she still had him. Nu Jian couldn’t hug her, but at least she could hug Nu Jian.)

When had Kavik become the exception to her isolation? When had Kavik become the one that casually lifted her up and spun her around?

She was almost sad when he finally began braiding her hair, but they did have somewhere to be, and a long ride ahead of them.

Kavik froze a thin sheet of ice, and held it up to her when he was done.

“What do you think?” He asked.

Kavik had braided the bulk of her hair into one long braid and pulled it into a loop that dangled from the crown of her head. He’d also redone the face-framing qilliqti that she had tried to do before. Yangchen had struggled to thread the thin braids through the beads, and her earlier attempt had been frizzy because of it. The hair grease combined with Kavik's skill had made the braids sleek and elegant.

Yangchen turned to thank him, and then immediately dodged a greasy finger aimed right for her nose. Another greasy hand came at her, and she grabbed Kavik’s wrists.

“Stop that!” She laughed.

“But you like my hands,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’m trying to give you a hug!”

“Oh!” It was Kavik’s turn to be surprised. “Okay.”

She hugged him. And then she directed his greasy hands back at his face.

“Hey!”

(They were slightly late to dinner with Kavik’s parents.)

#alright here it is hot off the press #no beta we die like all avatars do eventually #YangvikWeek2024 #Yangchen #Kavik #fluff #Yangvik #fanfiction #chronicles of the avatar #avatar novels #btw I am 100% a middler so if any of the polar people of tumblr want to offer suggestions to anything ive got laughably wrong about Up Nort #please go ahead i am open to editing this later

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lilacmingi · 1 year ago

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THE GOAT

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem reader, Mingi x fem reader

Word count: 4,790

Note: I’m doing something new with this little series. Each part will have two imagines based on the duos from the Bouncy music video, so you guys are getting TWO imagines in one :D

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆 | 홍중

Hongjoong released a long sigh, staring through the telescope he held between his glove-clad hands.

"Tired?" You questioned.

He scoffed. "No."

"Liar."

"I'm used to staying up late. You should know this by now."

"Yeah, yeah." You waved a dismissive hand, repositioning yourself on the raised platform Hongjoong sat upon, fixing your gaze on the city below. "How many nights are we going to spend keeping watch out here like this?"

"Until we get the signal."

"The signal." You muttered through a sigh of exasperation. "And when will we be getting that?"

"Don't know." Hongjoong pushed the telescope closed and set it aside.

You leaned back, resting on your palms while gazing out at the nighttime cityscape lit up with vibrant neon hues from the different signs displayed on buildings. The streets were empty, completely vacant and void of any civilians. This place you called your temporary home was practically a ghost town. Despite the people here being away from the government's control, they all seemed to prefer to move quietly throughout to city so as not to draw any attention to themselves.

The sound of a motorcycle revving loudly echoed somewhere in the distance.

Well, except some people.

Hongjoong chuckled softly. "That must be Seonghwa."

"Must be. What is he doing anyway?"

"Riding around with his new motorcycle gang I suppose."

"That doesn't seem like something that pertains to the plan."

"No, but who says we can't have a little fun while we wait to put the plan in motion? He grinned.

"Yeah. You have a point."

"Plus, we're just regular civilians going about our daily lives. Isn't that right?"

"Right."

Hongjoong adjusted the hat on his head, pushing it back enough to where he could look up at the stars. His cowboy attire was a bit ridiculous, but it was his disguise and unfortunately yours as well. All the boys were staying in separate hideouts around the city. You, Hongjoong, and Mingi were located in a part of the city that had a more western feel to it and in order to blend in, you had to dress the part. Not only that, but the boys were wanted for their crimes against the government and they needed to keep a low profile, lest they get captured by the android guardians.

"Mingi's face is plastered all over the city." You commented, recalling the numerous sketches of him you had seen stuck to nearly every building.

"I know."

"You don't think our cover is gonna get blown?"

"No. There have been plenty of times we've almost been caught in the past, but we always make it out."

He had a point. All of them were uncannily lucky when it came to escaping the clutches of the android guardians. Yes, Yeosang got captured once, but he was brought back completely unscathed with his emotions still intact. That was a miracle in and of itself. There wasn't a day that went by where the boys weren't thankful for all eight of them being safe.

"At this point, what are we even watching for? Nothing has happened in Prestige Academy for months."

"We're not watching for anything. We're just keeping an eye on them."

You hummed and nodded, your fingers mindlessly fiddling with the fringe on your vest.

"Do you ever miss home?" You questioned, eyes locked on the dreary slate gray city of Strictland far in the distance—a reminder of how vastly dissimilar this world was from the one you grew up in.

Hongjoong pursed his lips in thought.

"Not really. Our lives weren't exactly perfect and it seemed like none of us had a purpose. The group broke apart and everyone was dealing with their own issues. Here, we have a purpose and whatever problems we had back home are insignificant now, especially compared to the threat we're facing here." There was a brief pause before he added, "What about you?"

"Do I miss home?" You questioned.

He nodded.

"No, but sometimes yes. Back in our world, I felt stuck I guess. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life and I felt like I was being held back. If you can believe it, I feel more free here, even with all the rules the government is trying to enforce."

Hongjoong chuckled softly. "I get what you mean."

"When we first started this journey together, I was terrified. I didn't think I had it in me to make such daring moves, but now I want to do thrilling things like infiltrating an academy, but I do sometimes miss the normality of my old life. I miss hanging out with you guys in that old tin building."

"I do too." Hongjoong smiled fondly, turning to you. "But it's like I said earlier, who says we can't have a little fun? This dystopian world may be bleak, but we can still take it easy and have moments of normalcy."

The light from the large neon sign reading The Goat shone along his face, highlighting his side profile as he looked at you. It was a heavenly sight and one that had your heart thumping wildly with adoration.

You felt strongly about Hongjoong and had been quietly swooning over him for a long time now. Unfortunately, with all of the chaos constantly going on around you, there was no possibility of confessing. However, in this moment of vulnerability, you found yourself uttering something you normally wouldn't say.

"I'm glad I'm here with you."

Hongjoong's head lifted at your words. Now that he was looking at you, his eyes studying your face, you got nervous.

"Sorry." You murmured an apology, fiddling with the fringe of your vest again. "It's just that... well, you mean a lot to me and if we hadn't gone on this rollercoaster of a journey together and I stayed at our old home I'd probably be miserable. What I'm trying to say is that I'm thankful that we stuck together."

His gaze softened, a gentle smile gracing his pretty lips.

"I feel the same way."

A beat passed and Hongjoong scooted closer, it was unnoticed by you, as you'd turned your gaze back to the neon dotted cityscape ahead, staring out at the nighttime scene. His lips pressed together in momentary contemplation while his fingers fidgeted with the chains attached to his black leather gloves.

Hongjoong was a smart man, but your words caused him some confusion. Was that a confession? A subtle way to declare your feelings without saying it outright? Maybe you were just showing him appreciation for your companionship—or maybe you were hinting that you wanted something more. He hoped it was the latter.

There was only one way to find out.

He had taken on the android guardians multiple times, broke into a museum to steal the Cromer, snuck around Strictland to set up speakers, and now he was planning to infiltrate Prestige Academy to save as many students as possible, which would be one of their biggest and riskiest plans ever. Confessing is nothing compared to that. It should be a piece of cake. Keyword should.

Swallowing his pride and pushing away his nerves, he leaned over towards you, the movement grabbing your attention. Seeing how close he was made you tense up, but you didn't make any efforts to move away. Truthfully, you didn't want to.

His eyes were a little wider than usual, hesitancy swimming in his brown irises. The reason for that reluctance, you didn't know.

"Hongjoong?" Your voice came out much quieter than you intended. "What's happening?"

"I'm about to kiss you."

There was a brief pause of silence as your brain processed what he had just said. The only word that managed to come out of your mouth in response was,

"Okay."

You hardly had time to internally cringe at your lame response as Hongjoong's lips made contact with yours, promptly silencing your thoughts. Their softness alone had your mind turning to mush, your eyelids sliding closed as you practically melted into him. His gloved hand moved to cradle the side of your face while your hands relocated from your lap to the nape of his neck to keep him held close, hoping that this moment would last long enough for you to believe it wasn't a dream. His kisses were so delicate and slow. It felt like he was pouring all of his emotions into it, conveying just how much you meant to him with each gentle press of his lips.

Only a few moments passed before Hongjoong's kisses became a little more heated as he picked up the pace, moving his lips with more urgency. He even nipped at your bottom lip a couple times, earning a quiet squeak of surprise from you. You were thankful to be sitting down or else your knees would have given out on the spot. He chuckled lowly against your lips, amused by your reaction. His sultry laugh made your heart thump rapidly, your hands tightening into fists.

It wasn't long before your hands moved to his hat, pulling it off his head and tossing it to the side somewhere so you could card your fingers through his blue locks, grabbing handfuls of it. He let out a low hum that vibrated against your lips and sent a rush of butterflies to your stomach. After a particularly dizzying kiss, you sighed out his name, your mind far too clouded to realize what you had said. Hongjoong couldn't ignore the way that lit a fire in him. He liked how you sounded and he wanted to hear it again.

At this point, keeping watch was at the back of Hongjoong's mind. All he could think about was you and how glorious it felt to be kissing you like this and what it would take for you to say his name again.

"Say my name." He sighed out between heated kisses. "Please."

You did as he asked, repeating his name in a breathless whisper, egging him on.

His hand that cupped your cheek slid around to the back of your neck, his thumb gently rubbing your nape. You suppressed a shiver as he took your bottom lip between his, encasing it in warmth.

The both of you parted ways, Hongjoong's eyes looking hazy while his tongue darted out to wet his lips that were slightly swollen from your intense make out session. It seemed impossible, but he looked even more stunning than usual.

"What was that for?" You questioned breathlessly.

"I didn't know how else to convey my feelings."

"So, instead of just confessing, you did something riskier by kissing me?" You asked amusedly.

"What can I say? I'm a man who likes to take risks." The statement was confident, but judging by the pink tinting the tips of his ears, the thought of straight up confessing hadn't crossed his mind.

"Now what?"

"Well..." Hongjoong trailed off, his hand finding yours. "We can be together and still take down Prestige."

You gave a lighthearted chuckle. "Alright then. If you think you can handle balancing a relationship and overthrowing the government."

"Please." He scoffed playfully. "I'm the captain. I can handle anything."

Hongjoong's eyes shifted slightly, moving away from your face and focusing on something in the distance.

"Someone's coming." He announced, his gaze fixed on a figure riding a delivery scooter.

You chuckled softly even though you were bummed out that the moment had ended.

Duty calls.

He scrambled for his telescope, opening it up and peering through the glass.

"We didn't order any food." You mused.

"I know."

He zeroed in on a logo stuck to the delivery scooter that read Blue Bird Delivery. A silent sigh of relief was released. As the person approached, Hongjoong began messing with the pulley system attached to the roof of the building, lowering a beat up metal bucket to the ground below.

The moped came to a stop and the rider pulled out a plastic bag, placing it in the bucket before Hongjoong raised it.

"Is that Yeosang?"

"I think so."

The driver, who you assumed to be Yeosang got back onto the scooter and took off towards his next destination.

Hongjoong removed the plastic bag, carelessly tossing it aside as he opened the styrofoam takeout container. Inside was a single Cheongyang chili pepper.

Your brows furrowed in perplexmxent, wondering why Yeosang would bring you something like that. Hongjoong removed the paper from the container and examined it briefly. Glancing around, he broke open the green chili pepper, pulling out a rolled up note that had been put inside.

"What it is?" You inquired, watching as he unraveled it.

"It's time."

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The atmosphere in the dim Chili Peppers bar was filled with the sound of low murmuring from the few patrons it housed, the occasional sound of clinking glasses or pool being played accompanied the low conversations. You pressed the corners of the wrinkled paper to the wall, hanging a new wanted poster, this one bigger than the ones that already hung there. Most of them depicted the same man while others showed images of a few other fugitives who were believed to run in the same group. The only thing that was different from the rest was that any poster that showed this particular man said DEAD OR ALIVE in large letters. You weren't exactly sure as to why this man was wanted, but you heard whispers throughout the city that he looted local businesses in the area and sometimes traveled with a group of other fugitives. Some even say he runs with the masked men in fedoras, but you're not sure—this town talks a lot.

The wooden doors of the saloon squeaked as they were pushed open by a strong force. A tall figure stepped into the establishment, all of the attention drawn to him, the chatter in the bar coming to an abrupt stop. Every patron in the saloon had their heads directed towards the stranger, their eyes following him across the room. He wore a large hat that blocked his face, keeping his head low as he approached the bar you stood behind. You took note of the large shotgun strapped to his back, not thinking too much of it, as quite a few people around here carried weapons with them.

"How can I help you?" You asked, leaning on the wooden bar top.

"Why else do you think I came to this bar?" The man responded, his voice low and incredibly deep.

"Not everybody comes into this bar to drink, you know."

"Soju." He responded, taking a seat on one of the stools.

Reaching underneath the bar, you grabbed a shot glass and a cold bottle of soju from the mini fridge. Cracking open the alcohol, you poured the clear liquid into a shot glass, sliding it over to the man. His gloved hand reached out and lifted the shot to his lips, downing it just as quickly as you had poured it. He slammed the glass down onto the counter with his head hanging low. It was only when he raised his head that you got a clear look at his face.

First, you noticed his strikingly handsome features, then instant recognition. This was the man from the wanted poster.

You opened your mouth to speak, but your voice was stuck in your throat as he stood up, pulling his long, leather coat back to flash the gun sitting in a holster on his hip.

"When I turn around, duck under the bar." He instructed lowly.

What? Is what you wanted to say, but you didn't have time as he spun around, pulling the gun out.

You dropped to the floor and covered your head as the sound of gunshots rang out above you, some stray bullets hitting the bottles of alcohol displayed behind the counter, the shattered glass falling onto you, liquor splashing onto the wooden boards of the floor.

You didn't even have time to consider wether you trusted this stranger or not, yet you did exactly as he said without a second thought. Then again, it was the only thing you knew to do when you saw him draw his weapon.

A thump sounded from above you, the noise drawing your attention. The man now stood on the bar holding the shotgun that was previously strapped to his back, firing the weapon mercilessly. Based on the heavy thuds you heard after every shot, he was good.

"Alright. It's safe. You can come out now."

Deciding to peek out from your hiding spot, you slowly stood up, peering over the bar top. Bodies littered the floor, tables were overturned, and shell casings were scattered everywhere. Your eyes were blown wide in surprise as you took in the scene before you. The stranger hopped down off the bar, landing behind the counter with you. You unconsciously took a step back, still wary of the man.

"Who are you?" You asked in a shaky voice, rattled by the experience you just had.

"Mingi."

When you didn't respond, he held his hands up in a placating manner to show he wasn't a threat.

"I won't hurt you. I'm a good guy."

Still skeptical, you studied him for a moment, your eyes scanning his sharp features for any signs of dishonesty.

"I saved you." He added.

"Saved me?"

"Yes. Everyone in this bar was working for the government."

Your expression shifted upon hearing that.

"Strictland is getting tougher on enforcing their rules and regulations. They were going to bring you in and have your emotions taken away."

"What?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, shaking your head in denial.

"That's not possible. This is the outskirts of the city. The government has no control here."

"They're trying to."

Mingi could see your breathing start to quicken, a look of fear crossing your features.

"What do I do?"

"You come with me."

"But I don't know you."

"Have you ever heard of The Black Pirates?"

"No."

"They're a group of people who are rebelling against the government and trying to undo what Strictland has tried to enforce. Me and my friends work with them."

So that's why his picture is all over the city. Those other wanted posters are probably the friends he mentioned.

"Trust me, it's best if you listen and come with me." He added.

After taking a few seconds to think it over, you caved and agreed to go with Mingi. It seemed to be your best and only option.

"Smart girl." He commented. "Follow me."

Taking a final glance at the bar that was in complete disarray, you turned your back and followed Mingi out of the establishment. There was something sad about walking out of that dingy bar. It felt like you were leaving a part of you behind. Chili Peppers was a place you had spent a year working at and met many different people. You were well-acquainted with the regulars and enjoyed catching up with them when they came in. It was a fun job and one that had marked a new start of your life, so walking away from it broke your heart.

"Can I go back?" You asked.

"Probably not. You'll need to lay low."

"Right."

Unable to look at the bar any longer, you dropped your head and moved forward, rounding the corner of the building. It was only when Mingi came to a stop that you lifted your head.

He stood before the side of the Chili Peppers bar, staring at the multiple wanted posters depicting a sketch of his face that were plastered along the siding. Painted in harsh and aggressive black streaks across the posters was a giant Z. Mingi rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed huff.

"So freaking persistent." He muttered under his breath.

"What's that?" You inquired.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek in agitation. "He's the one in control of everything going on in Strictland."

You pressed your lips together as a bitter taste invaded your mouth. "I see."

Mingi turned to look at your expression, seeing the discomfort that flashed across your features as unwanted memories more than likely invaded your mind. It was clear to him that you felt ill will against Z.

"We all hate him." Mingi spoke up, hoping to ease your mind a bit. "That's why my friends are here. To get rid of all these rules and laws. This world is... wrong."

"I used to live in Strictland." You spoke up after a moment of silence. "I had to watch my friends turn into emotionless zombies. The android guardians tried to get me, but I fled. That's how I ended up here in the outskirts of the city. I felt safe... until now."

Mingi frowned upon hearing your story. Z and his twisted way of thinking has ruined so many lives. Your story was just a reminder of why he and his friends constantly put themselves in the line of danger and why they needed to continue doing so.

They wouldn't stop until this world was saved.

Your feet dragged through the dirt that lined the streets of the city, your eyes cast downward to stare at your shoes as they kicked up tiny puffs of dust.

"So, where are you taking me?"

"My hideout."

"And where is that?"

"Rooftop of The Goat."

"Rooftops aren't very secretive."

Mingi chuckled softly. "No, but it's the perfect spot to keep watch. My friends and I split off into groups of two so it would be harder for us to be tracked down and possibly caught if the android guardians decide to infiltrate this temporary safe haven. I've been staying in this part of town for a while."

"I heard about a group of people displaying acts of rebellion against Strictland's government and they've never been caught. It seems like they slip away in the nick of time every single time." You paused for a moment. "That was you and your friends, wasn't it?"

Mingi gave a nod.

A short walk through the dusty streets led you to the building with the giant neon sign reading: The Goat shining brightly at the rooftop, the word entrance accompanying the name of the building. It was then that you realized there were no doors.

"Come on." Mingi beckoned, climbing up a set of rickety metal stairs that lined the side of dilapidated building.

With each step, the stairs rattled softly and you hoped they would stay together long enough for you to reach the top.

"Hongjoong." Mingi announced, using his knuckles to knock lightly on a metal pipe as the both of you emerged on the rooftop.

"Oh, Mingi. Hi." A man with vibrant blue hair and cowboy attire greeted while peering through a telescope.

"Any news?"

"Not at all." The man who you assumed was Hongjoong lowered the telescope and pushed it together into its compact form before setting it aside. When he finally turned to look at Mingi, his eyes landed on you.

"Who's this?"

"You know I told you I was going to Chili Peppers to take care of some business?"

"Yeah."

"Everyone sitting in that bar tonight was working for the government. Y/n was the bartender and the only one there with her emotions in tact. They were going to bring her in and brainwash her."

"The government has no jurisdiction here."

"They don't seem to care. You know Z is going to try and get his way no matter what."

"Great." Muttered Hongjoong. "Just what we needed."

Mingi removed his hat and let out a sigh, running his fingers through his short, choppily-cut pink hair.

"This is bad." He said to Hongjoong.

Meanwhile you were left to watch the tense exchange between the two, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. These two and their friends were the only people who could undo all of the damage Z has done to Strictland and here they are, visibly distraught.

"We still have the raid on Prestige." Hongjoong mentioned, making your ears perk up.

"Right." Mingi nodded. "That'll surely light a fire under Z. He won't see it coming."

Hongjoong peered into the distance, presumably where Prestige Academy sat.

"It's just a matter of time." He murmured.

"What's going on with Prestige?" You inquired, too curious to keep your mouth shut.

"We're going to sneak in and break everyone out of their trances. We've got an elaborate plan in place, we're just waiting to put it into motion." Mingi explained.

The government of Strictland was very powerful and this group of, you weren't sure how many people, are out here making big moves in order to save humanity. You commend them for their bravery but at the same time you wondered how someone could be so brave.

"I can't believe you guys do stuff like this."

"We have to. It's what we're here for." Mingi told you, his eyes holding a tsunami of emotions: commitment, determination, perhaps even a hint of fear.

"I'll leave you two alone." Hongjoong spoke up. "If you need me, I'll be downstairs."

With that, he stood up and entered a door that you assumed led to the inside of the building, leaving the rooftop so you and Mingi could converse in private.

"Have a seat." The pink-haired male gestured to a raised platform resembling the front of a ship with two telescopes set up on it.

He stepped up on the platform, offering you a gloved hand to grab onto, which you did and allowed him to assist you onto the raised surface.

He set his hat aside and took a seat, his long legs hanging off the side of the platform. You followed suit and made yourself comfortable beside him, resting your arms on the metal bar of the railing that lined the ship-like structure.

"So, what's your story?" You asked, gently swinging your legs back and forth.

Mingi's captivating lips stuck out in though while his eyes focused on the buildings in the distance.

"I guess I should start from the beginning."

And so he did. From being brought here by the Cromer to taking the places of the masked men in fedoras and saving Strictland. You stayed silent the whole time and let him speak without interrupting. When he finally finished, a heavy and lengthy silence hung in the night air.

"So, you're not from this world." You said it like a statement.

"No."

"And you agreed to take the place of the men in fedoras just like that?"

"Yes. There's no way we can go back to our old world, especially knowing this one needs saving."

An overwhelming rush of admiration swelled in your chest, as did your respect for Mingi, if that was even possible.

"You and your friends are so brave."

He huffed out a light chuckle. "Yeah, I guess we are. It's weird. When we were told we would have to step up, we did. We did it without thinking."

"Do you ever get scared?"

"A lot. There have been times where I worry our plans won't work or one of my friends is about to get caught. I'm afraid one day, we won't be so lucky."

"If you need an extra person on your team, I'm willing to step up."

Mingi's brows raised, his sharp eyes becoming rounder in surprise.

"I'm not sure what I can do, but I'm willing to help however I can." You added.

"Are you sure?"

Yes, Mingi had just met you but he felt somewhat protective of you and there was a small part of him that couldn't see you get hurt or captured by the android guardians.

"Yes I'm sure." You were adamant in your decision. "I lost the only friends I had to that dictator. He stripped them of their emotions."

Mingi's eyes met yours, serious and searching for more confirmation even though he could see it clearly on your face—there was no changing your mind.

"We need all the help we can get, but it won't be easy." He told you.

"Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it. I'm up for whatever Strictland has to throw at me."

"Very well."

About that time, Hongjoong emerged onto the rooftop with a large sheet of rolled up paper in his hand that you presumed was a blueprint.

"Joong, we've got a new recruit." Mingi informed him.

"Is that so?"

You nodded in confirmation.

"What do you say we fill her in on the plans to invade Prestige?"

"I'm way ahead of you." Hongjoong wiggled the blueprint in his hand, bringing it over to spread it along the ground, revealing a grand plan. "Let's begin."

Seonghwa & Yeosang ⟡ Yunho & Jongho ⟡ San & Wooyoung

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

#ateez imagines #hongjoong #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong x reader #mingi #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi imagines #ateez lore #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x y/n #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #kim hongjoong #ateez lore au #ateez outlaw #ateez outlaw au

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thelibraryghost · 11 months ago

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A Young Person's Introduction to Early 20th-Century Western Fashion

am i hip with the kids yet

General information Dotschkal, Janna. "1920's." FOUND. October 21, 2016. English Heritage. "Fashion Through History: Episode 3 – 1930s." YouTube. April 16, 2023. Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Standardized Sizes in Womens Fashion and Why They FAILED." YouTube. May 16, 2021. Vintagebursche. "100 Years of Classic Menswear - and what we can learn from each decade." YouTube. February 29, 2020. Zebrowska, Karolina. "1920s Fashion Is Not What You Think It Is." YouTube. May 20, 2018.

Accessories Cox, Abby. "Flappers, Y2K, & Capitalism are Why Women "Don't" Have Pockets." YouTube. January 12, 2023. Cox, Abby. "The Disappointing Truth On Why We Don't Wear Hats Anymore..." YouTube. December 18, 2022. Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of the Iconic Cloche Hat: Making 1920s Fashion." YouTube. September 18, 2022. Rudolph, Nicole. "When Hats were Illegal: Sewing a Goth Edwardian Hat." YouTube. February 21, 2021. Sheehan, Sarah. "Neo-Egyptomania." PatternVault. December 31, 2022. Zebrowska, Karolina. "Why Did We Stop Wearing Hats?" YouTube. April 28, 2020.

Cosmetics Banner, Bernadette. "Making and Testing a Victorian Skincare Routine." YouTube. April 8, 2023. English Heritage. "1930s Makeup Tutorial | History Inspired | Feat. Amber Butchart and Rebecca Butterworth." YouTube. December 18, 2018. Holland, Evangeline. "On How to Be Lovely." Edwardian Promenade. April 15, 2010. Rudolph, Nicole. "The Controversial History of Color Season Analysis." YouTube. November 4, 2023.

Fabrics Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Elastic." YouTube. July 4, 2021. Rudolph, Nicole. "Wearing Overalls to Boycott Fashion Greedflation? Weird History of 1920." YouTube. March 16, 2024.

Gowns and formal wear Banner, Bernadette. "I Redesigned Mary Poppins' Jolly Holiday Dress Based on REAL Edwardian Lingerie Gowns." YouTube. February 20, 2021. Banner, Bernadette. "I Remade Mary Poppins’ Dress to be Actually Edwardian." YouTube. July 9, 2022. Cox, Abby. "Alexander McQueen & the Patriarchy Problem in Modern Fashion." YouTube. October 20, 2023. Cox, Abby. "What Makes a Gown Haute Couture (like House of Worth) in Victorian and Edwardian Eras?" YouTube. September 19, 2021. Lady Rebecca Fashions. "An Edwardian Woman's Fashion Evolution." YouTube. June 4, 2022. Oakes, Leimomi. "Terminology: what is a lingerie dress or lingerie frock? (and blouse, and skirt)." The Dreamstress. July 21, 2018. Rudolph, Nicole. "Stop Idolizing Coco Chanel: a shocking history of theft." YouTube. January 13, 2024. Rudolph, Nicole. "The Truth about the Fringed Flapper: Making 1920s Evening Dresses." YouTube. November 6, 2022. Vintagebursche. "1920s Theme Party - How to dress." YouTube. December 9, 2023. Zebrowska, Karolina. "1920s Fashion Encyclopedia, Pt 1: Daywear." YouTube. November 27, 2019.

Hair care and styling Banner, Bernadette. "I Tried Following a Real Edwardian Hair Care Routine." YouTube. May 12, 2020. Lady Rebecca Fashions. "Getting Dressed in the Edwardian Era / Gibson Girl Hairstyle Tutorial." YouTube. June 12, 2020. Lady Rebecca Fashions. "Titanic-era Hair Tutorial // Getting Dressed in the 1910's." YouTube.September 4, 2020. SnappyDragon. "Historical hair myths debunked : How often should you wash your hair—daily shampoo or no shampoo?" YouTube. August 12, 2022. Zebrowska, Karolina. "Weird Edwardian Beauty Tips." YouTube. February 11, 2017.

Laundry and starching Banner, Bernadette. "Ok but how did the Edwardians WASH these dresses?" YouTube. August 3, 2022.

Outerwear Cox, Abby. "Athleisure: Destroying Fashion & the Environment." YouTube. January 18, 2024. Rudolph, Nicole. "150 years of Masc Women causing a Moral Panic." YouTube. June 17, 2023. Rudolph, Nicole. "The History of Jeans, T-shirts, and Hoodies: Time Travel 101." YouTube. March 20, 2022. Zebrowska, Karolina. "SPRING/SUMMER FASHION TRENDS REVIEW but it's 1936 (ft. original fabric samples!)." YouTube. April 22, 2022.

Shoes Rudolph, Nicole. "I Made Witchy Edwardian Shoes by Hand!" YouTube. March 14, 2021. Rudolph, Nicole. "Making 100 year old Comfy Slippers: Free Pattern!" YouTube. December 30, 2023. Rudolph, Nicole. "The Myth of Tiny Feet "Back Then"." YouTube. September 26, 2021. Rudolph, Nicole. "The True History of Stiletto Heels : the battle between Ferragamo and Dior." YouTube. August 26, 2023. Zebrowska, Karolina. "Why Is No One Talking About 1930s Shoes?" YouTube. September 15, 2020.

Undergarments Banner, Bernadette. "1903 Patented Bustle Pad Reconstruction." YouTube. June 8, 2019. Banner, Bernadette. "Achieving That Classic Edwardian Shape: Reconstructing a 1902 Bust Bodice." YouTube. April 16, 2020. Lady Rebecca Fashions. "So What are Guimpes Anyway? // Examining Antique Edwardian Guimpes." YouTube. August 21, 2020. Lady Rebecca Fashions. "They Wore Corsets in the 1920's?!" YouTube. January 29, 2022. Rudolph, Nicole. "Did Brassieres End the Corset?" YouTube. February 28, 2021. Rudolph, Nicole. "Dressing in Edwardian Clothing: Undergarments and Layers of 1907." YouTube. November 1, 2020. Rudolph, Nicole. "How Flappers got their Figure: the 1920s Silhouette." YouTube. July 10, 2022. SnappyDragon. "How pin-up photos fooled dress history : the making and marketing of lingerie pictures." YouTube. April 1, 2023.

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angelofthenight · 11 months ago

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Kenchanted Pt.4

(Ken x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Mostly dialogue, Y/N is hinted at being depressed but it’s nothing triggering or significant

Word Count: 3.5k

Table of Contents

You rushed into the police station with a jog to your steps, your motivation being the man that hasn’t evacuated your mind even for a second ever since you sent him away. You were only home for about an hour before the police station had called you and Ken’s voice spoke over the line.

He excitedly explained to you where he was and how they told him he could get a phone call. The only phone number he knew was yours due to seeing it written on Julius’ desk. So that’s how you found yourself in the police department as they released Ken, who was now all decked out in stylish cowboy clothes, from the holding cell.

“Ken, what happened? You were gone for only an hour-” You spoke with big eyes as Ken ran towards you with a big, dopey grin strung up on his face. “(Y/n)! Great news! They’ve seen Barbie!” He cut you off with giddiness.

You put your hands up to slow him down, much more important questions existing that needed to be answered. “Ken, why are you in jail?” Said man shrugged. “Beats me.” Your eyes traveled up and down his form, taking in his new appearance from the cowboy boots all the way up to the matching hat. “Why did you change clothes? And why would you dress up as a cowboy?”

“Hey, I love fringe!” Ken defended, fastly shaking his shoulders to make the white fringe whip around. “I didn’t really feel like myself in the clothes you gave me so when I saw this in a store window I changed. But then the clerk started yelling at me and chasing me and then they arrested me.”

You blinked rapidly at the information. “You stole this?!” You cried out, gesturing towards his Western clothes. “I gave you money though!” “Oh that’s what it was for?” “Do you even still have it?”

Ken rocked on his heels, twiddling with his plastic fingers behind his back as he scrunched his lips. “…No.” You glared right at him with hands on your hips. “What did you spend it on?!” “I stepped on some picture on the ground by accident and some guy ran up yelling at me and telling me to pay him money for stepping on his picture so I gave it to him.” He explained with an innocent, naive shrug.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Oh my god, Ken.” You released yourself to take a deep breath. “Well, you fell for your first LA scam. Congratulations.” You said through a galled monotone. Ken couldn’t see through your sarcasm. “Thank you!” He chirped with a proud smile and composure, tipping his white cowboy hat to you.

Once you bailed Ken out, rather than taking him straight to your car, you took him for a little stroll around town to properly talk with him. “I’m sorry about everything I said earlier today. I’m just not used to falling off my everyday schedule. And my boss and I both have a lot of expectations from myself, so I’m not the most flexible person.” You told him, still not feeling that well with letting him go.

“I forgive you.” Ken quickly replied with an upbeat bounce, not sounding the least bit of upset with you. “But it would be nice if you did loosen up a bit. Just go with the flow.” He recommended, waving his arms out to express the last bit. You scoffed lightheartedly, “Yeah. Maybe I should just do what you would do. Throw myself into every opportunity to get in trouble.”

“Sometimes trouble can be fun!”

“Not if it gets you thrown in a holding cell and goes into your record.”

“But at least there I got to find out that Barbie is in the area! The policeman told me she got in for the same reason as me!”

“If they were telling the truth that is.”

You didn’t mean to be so negative, but you just didn’t want to get the poor guys hopes up. It’s a very realistic possibility that the cops were just humoring him and going along with his antics. This was just your way of desperately attempting to give Ken a needed reality check; knock the sanity back into him. As a natural pessimist, Ken’s optimist disposition felt like nails on a chalkboard to you. He was just so out of touch with reality while you had the tightest grip on it. He needed to understand that life was harsh and unforgiving, no place for such a person like him.

When you opened your mouth with the intent to give Ken a hurtful life lesson Ken halted his tracks when you were about to pass a cotton candy stand, the pink cloudy substance that swirled around the stick capturing his attention. You nearly tripped over your own ceasing feet when you almost walked ahead of him, rejoining to his side.

“Do you want some?” You asked him after noticing how enamored he was with the creation of it. Ken snapped his sparkling eyes over to you, nodding enthusiastically. You pulled out the needed bills and exchanged them for one big, pink fluffy cotton candy. The young worker held out the treat for Ken to happily take before you two continued to walk the westside beach town that led to the boardwalk.

Ken held it a few inches away from his mouth as he did his pretend bites with a cheery grin. You rolled your eyes at this, ‘Not this again’. “Ken, you’re supposed to pinch off a piece and put it in your mouth.” You said as you demonstrated it, nearly humming from the taste since it had been a while too long since you’ve had it.

Ken observed your example and looked back at the pink cotton ball with a sense of hesitant uncertainty. Though he did as you instructed and took a pinch out of the weightless spun sugar. He took a second to study it and hesitantly placed it on his tongue. He closed his lips and was about to chew like he did with the breakfast until he felt nothing but the tasty sand-like sugar on his newly grown taste buds.

His huge eyes whipped to you with shock. “It disappeared!” You let yourself softly laugh, an amused genuine smile spreading your lips. “That’s what cotton candy does.” Ken looked back to the fluffy sugar bush and took several pinch size bites, his eyes lighting up everytime the piece vanished in his mouth. “I didn't know that food could taste like this!” He said when he looked over to you with the happiest of looks.

The two of you continued your walk until you decided to spark up a more casual conversation to get to know Ken a little better. “So, what's the deal with this girlfriend of yours? How long have you two been together?” Ken sucked a sprinkle of the sugar off his thumb before he answered, “Well, we’re supposed to have been boyfrien-girlfrien for 62 years now but she doesn’t really treat us like that.”

Your eyebrows slowly scrunched together as questions began to swarm your mind. “Wait, why do you call yourselves a couple when she doesn’t see it that way?” “Because it’s supposed to be Barbie and Ken. It’s never just Ken.” He explained with that mindless grin of his. You gave him a look. “But most of the time it’s just Barbie though.”

Ken’s smile faltered when you said that, his bright blue orbs floating without direct attention while his mind drifted with distraction; lingering on your words. He shook himself out of his space-out to put back up a bright smile. “What about you? How long have you known your Rob?” He asked you before you told him it had been five years.

“Has he moved in with you yet? That’s my dream with Barbie.” You felt your muscles slightly tense upwards at the uncomfortable question that people always had to ask. “Um, no, he hasn’t.” You replied as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. “I mean it’s in the plan but he wants to move in sooner rather than later when I think it should be later than sooner. There’s just a lot that needs to be done when moving in together, and don’t even get me started on billings and picking out a place.”

Ken raised his brows at your explanation. Never has he met someone so worked up about beyond tomorrow while Ken himself has never felt burdened by the knowledge of upcoming decisions and plans. “Wow, you think a lot about the future.” He breathed out.

“Well, I have to. Being planned, prepped and prepared is the key to stability, and I apply that to me and my boyfriend and our relationship.”

“You have such strange ideas about love and life.” Ken chuckled to himself which made you mockingly snicker back. “Forget ‘love’, it doesn't exist.”

Ken nearly tripped.

“How could you say that?!” He practically screamed in your ear, his expression deeply shocked and offended. “Of course it does!” You glared at his raised volume, glancing around to make sure no one in the public was looking in your direction. You stepped closer to Ken to talk in a hushed tone, trying to signal him to keep his voice down. “And how do you know?” You questioned with a condescending shadow over your voice.

“In Barbieland, I’m surrounded by lots of Barbie’s and Ken’s who are head over heels in love.” Ken proclaimed with an expressive nod as you resumed walking. “Are you in love with…” you steered off for a second as you realized he used the two names in plural, “your Barbie?”

“Well yeah…” Ken answered all too quickly yet his expression deflated as he glanced off momentarily, “but it’s not the real thing. At least not yet. True love is a two-way street, y’know.”

You gestured toward him. “Exactly my point.” You said. “True love is either always one sided or fake. Love is finite and never lasts.” Ken was visibly frowning at what you were saying as your point of view. “What about you and Rob? Don’t you love each other?” He asks like he was a child of divorce. You stopped in your tracks, Ken copying you to watch you struggle for words.

“It’s…” You bit your lip as you trailed off. You never liked trying to verbalize your feelings, you preferred keeping it all inside you in a place where you didn’t have to acknowledge or explain them. “Well I am attracted to him and I do like him in that way. But being ‘in love’ is kind of far of a stretch.” You sighed, rubbing your tired eye before reconnecting eye contact. “That's what I'm trying to tell you. It's complicated.”

Ken looked back and forth between your eyes, as if searching for some kind of explanation for your bleak way of thinking. He just didn’t understand you. “But it doesn't have to be though.” He argued, desperation clawing at his throat and frustrated tears threatening to border his orbs.

You shrugged with a melancholy frown. “That’s just how the world is, Ken. It’s messy and unclear, and it’s just plain cruel. That’s why we have to toughen ourselves up for it and nothing can ever seriously hurt us.” You spoke with a thick shroud of disapointment heavy in your voice; speaking purely out of the experience he seemed to lack.

You nearly snapped your own neck when you heard Ken mumble beneath his breath, “That’s not how the world in Barbieland works.”

“Well maybe it’s just a naive, ignorant world.” You growled back under your breath. You loathed how often he talked about this “Barbieland” and how flawless it sounded to be. It made you furious. You were beginning to theorize he was just in a cult on a remote, isolated landmass or island. It would explain all your questions about him and his homeland.

The world was black and white, wicked and dark. It was relentless with problems and it was a ‘survival of the mentally fittest’ built place. You had to raise and fend for yourself and once you blinked and found yourself all grown up, your view of the world had been molded by your own disappointment and anger. But now you refused to see the world any other way. Because then you would have to admit that you were wrong and that it was just your specific life that was like that. You were not wrong though. The world was- “Can I ask you something?” Ken’s sudden lively voice pulled you out of your dark cloud of stormy thoughts. “What.” You grumbled.

He gulped, staring at your grumpy expression as he began to feel a nervousness swell up within him to ask you, “Why don’t you smile?”

You blinked several times, bafflement softening up the scowl on your face you didn’t even realize was present. You glanced around timidly, awkwardly trying to decide on an answer. “I do. Just not every minute of the day, but I do smile.”

“But aren’t you happy?” Ken pressed on, making you more uncomfortable as you preferred to not talk about your emotions or the feelings that weren’t disappointment or anger or disgust. “I mean, I’m content.” You tried to explain but that seemed to further Ken’s confusion. “But not happy?”

Ken felt so… he didn’t even know a word that describes what he felt about it. He had never met someone who wasn’t quick to admit that they were happy, both with themselves or with their life. Every hour of the day in Barbieland, every Barbie and every Ken had the time of their plastic lives. Everything was perfect, aside from his relationship with Stereotypical Barbie. From the weather, to the food, to the activities, to the parties, to the clothes, to the community.

And you were just the… opposite of everyone he’s familiar with. Yet he didn’t exactly dislike that. Of course you were such a wet blanket though, but something as unfamiliar as you kind of gave him this sort of thrill. The kind of thrill he felt at the pit of his stomach when he was about to face the biggest plastic wave he’s ever seen, not really scared but not really excited.

“It’s another complicated thing, Ken. I like my life and I like my relationships. I wouldn’t say that I’m not happy, I do feel happiness a lot but it’s… it’s complicated.” You sighed out while tightly crossing your arms as if that would ease your discomfort. Ken made himself slowly nod despite not really understanding, mentally digesting your foreign predicament. He looked off into nothing particular as he tried to maintain a steady breath, your overall mentality nearly overwhelming him. “Everything sounds complicated with you.”

You shrugged at his observation, wondering if you really did overuse that specific word even if it was the perfect description for most things in your life. “Happiness just isn’t my top priority. And if it's just something you need to work for well then I have more important things in my life that I can put my energy into.”

“Like what?”

“Like my work.”

“And?”

“And housework and bills and…” you mentally screamed at yourself as your mind went blank, “and quite literally anything else.” You grumbled which left Ken the open opportunity to dig.

“Like dancing?” He pepped up, taking your ‘anything else’ very literally. You briefly nibbled on your lip. “Well no but-”

“Beaches?”

“No-”

“Concerts?”

“I don’t-”

He went on to list all the things he and other dolls personally enjoyed doing. “Baking? Theme parks? Camping?” His list was cut off with the exclamation at the notice of a certain A frame sign that caught his eye. “Disco parties!” He squeaked as he pointed at it, immediately jogging to it with you chasing after him.

“There’s going to be a Disco Party at the pier next week!” Ken read with a burst of joy overflowing him as he practically bounced on his heels with a gleeful giddiness spreading his lips into a wide smile while pointing at the sign like a kid pointing out a toy they want at the store to their mom.

You stood at his side to study the sign on your own, resisting the itching feeling to roll your eyes at the colorful public invitation with a big disco ball at the corner of it and 70s song references scattered across the words. “We should go!” Ken insisted with excitement bubbling through his composure.

Your lips held a small sour cringe. “I don’t dance.” You instantly shot down which made his energy deflate as he gave you a look of mortification. “What do you mean you don’t dance?!” “I just think it’s stupid.” You shrugged simply.

Ken squared his shoulders at you with his hands on his hips, his eyes blown open. “Have you even tried it?” He sharply questioned. A condescending smirk twitched the corner of your mouth as your eyes rolled. “I don’t have to swing and flail my body around myself to know that it looks ridiculous and embarrassing.” You said easily while you tightly crossed your arms in an uptight manner.

Ken blinked. “Em… bear… a-sing?” You raised a brow. “Yeah, embarrassing. You know that shameful, self-conscious feeling you get when you do something you’re uncomfortable with in front of others?”

He slightly spaced out as he thought over your explained definition, realizing that he has felt that negative feeling before. But he couldn’t apply that to something as refreshing as dancing. “…Oh! So you’re just too shy to dance?” He concluded with an accomplished smile and a pointer finger at you. You groaned under your breath and turned away from him to walk back the way you came with your tightly crossed arms. “I’m not shy, I just would prefer to keep my dignity.”

Ken watched you walk ahead of him for a moment. A strange warmness tickled the pit of his stomach as a mindless grin, birthed from that foreign sensation, settled into his lips. A little chuckle rang out through his throat and past his misty smile as his eyes remained on you before he jogged to catch up to you, rejoining you by your side.

That chuckle erupted again but lighter. “You know, I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re really weird.” You vaguely flinched at his comment before giving him a quick up and down glance. “You’re not so normal yourself.”

“But I actually kinda really like that you’re weird.” He added with a soft smile planted delicately on his lips. “It’s so different from what I’m used to.” Although the compliment was unflattering, you felt a sudden warm temperature expand throughout your chest. Identical to that toasty, cozy bodily reaction you get when you’re in a freezing cabin in the middle of winter and you just lit a flaming fireplace.

You told yourself it was just the California heat getting to you.

The corners of your mouth perked up gently without your consent as you admitted, “And even though your immature naivety can be so annoying it gives me a headache, it can be cute.” Ken’s smile broadened enough for his teeth to show, snapping his beaming eyes down at you. “You think I’m cute?”

You shot a glare up at him, trying to force your grin down into a frown but your upturned lips were too heavy to weigh down. “I never said that.” He shook his head up and down enthusiastically in an overly joyful manner. “You did though!” You let out a repressed laugh, it coming out too suddenly for you to try to hold it in. “Don’t think too much into it though. I still think a fish is cuter than you.”

“But still cute.”

“Just shut up, okay?”

You two walked in silence for a moment, a lighthearted and playful atmosphere circling around you until you felt Ken’s bright blue eyes lasering into you. You glanced up at him to catch his cheeky gaze and grin. “What?” You asked, your brows pinching together.

“I made you smile.” Ken pointed out, sounding very proud of himself while remembering how much you didn’t smile.

You abruptly felt the pulse of your heart pound one beat harder than the rest, not even realizing that you were in fact still smiling. You finally got the strength to drop your smile into your signature frown, practically a scowl. “Whatever. Let’s go home now.” You brushed off as you motioned the blond to follow you.

Ken slightly tilted his head, puzzlement teasing his expression. “You mean your home?” He asked, making sure you didn’t mean Barbieland which was his home. He couldn’t go home without Barbie.

You paused, internally stabbing yourself from the embarrassing mistake. “Yeah… my home.”

#reader insert #ken carson x reader #ken x reader #ken carson #kenergy #greta gerwig barbie #barbie 2023 #the barbie movie #barbie movie #barbie #greta gerwig #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling #enchanted movie #enchanted #I’m just Ken #fluff #disney enchanted

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irish-dress-history · 2 years ago

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16th c. Costume Books, a Problematic Source for Dress History

But did they really dress like this?

Costume books and costume albums are a popular source for dress historians, historical costumers, and reenactors researching 16th and early 17th c. Europe. There are good reasons for this. They are primary source documents (at least sometimes), and they show the clothing of cultures and social groups that are difficult-to-impossible to find in other types of period art, like the Irish and rural peasants. Examples of these books include Trachtenbuch des Christoph Weiditz, Habiti antichi et moderni di tutto il Mondo di Cesare Vecellio, and Théâtre de tous les peuples et nations de la terre avec leurs habits et ornemens divers. These books are, however, deeply problematic as a dress history source for several reasons. In this post, I will discuss the ways they are problematic and how those of us researching historical dress can gain a better understanding of what the people shown in these books were actually wearing. I have broken down the problems with using these images into 4 areas.

Embodied biases:

The creators of these books were, at least sometimes, prejudiced against the cultures they were portraying, and these biases may have affected how they characterized these cultures. Hans Weigel, author of Habitus praecipuorum populorum, characterized his native German fashion as modest and virtuous and characterized elaborate Italian fashions as decadent and corrupt. Weigel considered these 'strange' foreign fashions a threat to the 'civilized' German fashion he favored (Bond 2018). This bias might have motivated Weigel to idealize his portrayal of German fashion or to exaggerate the strangeness of Italian fashion in order to scare his readers away from trying it.

Weigel's dislike of flashy foreign fashions seems mild in comparison to the bigotry of some of his peers. Flemish artist Lucas de Heere and French artist François Desprez both labeled the Scottish 'savages' in their books. Jost Amman's description of a purported Turkish sex worker in the German edition of Gynaeceum, sive Theatrum mulierum, is appallingly bigoted:

"A Turkish Wh*re: This is a prostitute, who sells her impure body for dirty money to a lover that pleases her. With the earnings of this sin she dresses herself prettily and beautifully, in order to attract the Turks even more easily with her false ornaments." (translation from Ilg 2004)

Considering the blatant bigotry he shows here, I wouldn't anything about trust Amman's depictions of sex workers, Turks, or any other non-Western Europeans. Or any other women, really.

Sights unseen:

Even when costume book creators weren't actively trying to perpetuate their biases through their work, their ignorance could still cause problems. These artists did not always visit the countries whose costumes they painted. They relied on other artists' work or even just verbal descriptions to fill in the gaps in their knowledge. The resulting images can distort the cut, construction, and material of the clothing.

For example, the Turkish women in this original woodcut by Pieter Coecke van Aelst are wearing shawls or scarves with long fringe wrapped around their heads and shoulders. In the Christoph von Sternsee costume album's illustration based off Coecke van Aelst's print, the fringed shawl has become a strange, tailored hood with a panel of pleated cloth attached to either it or the gown below.

(Coecke van Aelst's woodcuts were identified as the source for the von Sternsee album's illustration in Katherine Bond's 2018 dissertation.)

Copy of a copy of what?

In spite of the problems it causes, copying from other artists' work was common in costume albums (Bond 2018). Considering that the artists did not visit all the cultures they illustrated, this is unsurprising. Some images were copied repeatedly, and the artist misunderstanding the source material wasn't the only source of distortion. Artists also made up details to compensate for bare-bones source material.

This simple line black-and-white print of an Irish woman wearing a léine (linen tunic), brat (Irish mantle), and headwear was used by several artists, all of whom made changes and additions. The first copy in this post is the most faithful to the original, but it still adds long sleeves and eyelet holes on the neckline to the léine. The coloring of the headwear suggests a wool hat crested with a tuft of horsehair and having a linen roll at the bottom. The coloring also gives the brat a contrasting lining.

The second knockoff is the most famous. It comes from Lucas De Heere's illustration which purportedly shows Irish people in service to King Henry VIII. This is some thing De Heere couldn't have actually seen, as he moved to England 20 years after Henry VIII died and never went to Ireland at all. De Heere took the most liberties with his version. His Irish woman appears to be topless under her brat. The bottom of her léine has much less volume than the original, and De Heere has added an apron. For the hat, De Heere has replaced the crest with triangles of green wool.

Unlike De Heere's version, the final version is mostly loyal to the cut shown in the original, but it makes some unlikely suggestions for the materials. The léine appears to be green silk brocade. The brat also appears to be silk. Accounts from people who actually went to Ireland in the 16th and early 17th centuries state that these garments were made of linen and wool, respectively. Both the hat and its crest are now completely made of linen.

Chronological distortion:

The heavy use of copying in costume books also has the potential to mislead us in terms of when these fashions were worn, because the original images may be significantly older than publication year of the books that copy them. For example, the dress of Livonian women shown in Hans Weigel's 1577 book was almost certainly copied from Albrecht Dürer's 1521 watercolors. Weigel used references that were more than half a century old, but described them as if they were contemporary fashion in 1577.

Even when costume book images are accurate portrayals of their source material, many of them lack the detail needed to identify seams, fabric types, or garment understructures. How do we deal with these problems when attempting to reconstruct what the people shown in these books actually wore?

What do we do about it?

I am not saying that we should discard these things completely as sources. Dress historians as respected as Patterns of Fashion author Janet Arnold and The Tudor Tailor authors Jane Malcolm and Ninya Mikhaila have used costume book illustrations. I definitely know less about 16th c. dress history than Jane and Ninya. I am just saying we shouldn't use them uncritically.

First, do some research on the costume book you're looking at. When was it created? Do the illustrations look suspiciously similar to those in other books? (Google image search and pinterest can be helpful for identifying this.) Did the creator, like Hans Weigel, have a particular bias they were advancing? Did they actually visit the cultures they portrayed? Christoph Weiditz actually traveled quite a bit, but he did not visit the British Isles, so his Irish and English women are probably based on someone else's art (Bond 2018). A lot of the scholarly publications about costume books are frustratingly paywalled, but some of them can be accessed for free via researchgate or academia.edu.

Avoid using copies when possible, even if the copies are more realistic-looking or more detailed art. As I discussed in the examples above, artists change things when they copy. Publication dates of copies can also be misleading in terms of dating clothing styles.

Find other sources such as: written descriptions from the time period, extant historical garments, more detailed art depicting similar fashions in related cultures, and art made by people from the culture you are studying. Period written descriptions can yield information about materials used, colors, and other details. Extant garments are your best source for information on cut and construction (unless you are lucky enough to have an extant tailor's manual from your period and culture). Detailed art depicting similar fashions can offer suggestions to fill in for missing information on construction, materials, and embellishments. Art created by the culture is valuable for identifying inaccuracies created by bigoted or ignorant artists.

Finally, remember that it's okay to not know everything. There are gaps in our knowledge about what people wore 500 years ago that will probably never be filled without a time machine. Sometimes you just have to make a plausible guess and move on. Don't let yourself get so paralyzed by doing research that you never complete the garment reconstruction/art/tumblr post you were doing the research for.

Bibliography:

Bond, K. L. (2018). Costume Albums in Charles V’s Habsburg Empire (1528-1549). https://doi.org/10.17863/CAM.25054

Dunlevy, Mairead (1989). Dress in Ireland. B. T. Batsford LTD, London.

Ilg, Ulrike. (2004). The Cultural Significance of Costume Books Sixteenth-Century Europe. In Catherine Richardson (ed.), Clothing Culture, 1350-1650 (p. 29-47). Ashgate.

McClintock, H. F. (1943). Old Irish and Highland Dress. Dundalgan Press, Dundalk.

McClintock, H. F. (1953). Some Hitherto Unpublished Pictures of Sixteenth Century Irish People, and the Costumes Appearing in Them. The Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland, 83(2), 150-155. https://www.jstor.org/stable/25510871

Costume Books mentioned:

Amman, Jost. Gynaeceum, sive Theatrum mulierum.

The Costume Album of Christoph von Sternsee. not available on-line. Katherine Bond's research is your best source for this one.

Desprez, François. Recueil de la diversité des habits.

De Heere, Lucas. Corte Beschryvinghe van Engheland, Schotland, ende Irland.

Théâtre de tous les peuples et nations de la terre avec leurs habits et ornemens divers, tant anciens que modernes, diligemment depeints au naturel par Luc Dheere peintre et sculpteur Gantois.

Vecellio, Cesare, and Gratilianus, Sulstatius. Habiti antichi et moderni di tutto il Mondo di Cesare Vecellio.

Trachtenbuch des Christoph Weiditz

Weigel, Hans, and Amman, Jost. Habitus praecipuorum populorum, tam virorum quam foeminarum singulari arte depicti.

Kostüme der Männer und Frauen in Augsburg und Nürnberg, Deutschland, Europa, Orient und Afrika

Kostüme und Sittenbilder des 16. Jahrhunderts aus West- und Osteuropa, Orient, der Neuen Welt und Afrika

costume prints by an unknown artist, in the Bibliothèque nationale de France, Cabinet des Estampes. I cannot find this one online. image taken from McClintock 1953.

#dress history #historical fashion #art #16th century #17th century #historical costuming #historical dress #cw whorephobia #cw racism #irish dress #leine #irish mantle #reenactment #costume album

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