#fun fact the dress is inspired by one from downton abbey

[kanerallels]

For the Christmas fic maybe…Sabezra and “All I Want For Christmas is You?” (I just saw that post and it sounds so cute and fun!)

Thank you so much for sending in a request!! This one got a little long, but I'm fairly proud of it

“Looks like we were right about this being a meeting place for the local Imperials,” Sabine said quietly, nodding to the table filled with gray uniformed officers, all chatting and drinking.

“Looks like it,” Ezra said, fidgeting with his drink cup a little as he shot another glance at Sabine. They were both in disguise— him in a crisp white shirt and suit coat of Kanan’s that Hera had found for him, and her in a dress that Ezra had never seen before. It was magenta with a halter top, leaving her arms bare. The fabric was embroidered and beaded in diamond patterns, and the skirt hit just below her knees. In her hair�� dyed freshly just for the occasion— she wore a small silver tiara.

She looked beautiful, and Ezra was trying really hard to pretend he didn’t notice. He was supposed to be over his crush, after all.

But missions where they went undercover together made that hard, especially around Life Day. Mistletoe and sappy songs were everywhere— even now, playing in the background of the bar.

I just want you for my own,

More than you could ever know.

Sabine glanced at him, and lifted an eyebrow. “Spectre Six? You good?”

Make my wish come true,

All I want for Christmas is you.

Even when she was looking at him like he was insane, she was prettier than anyone else in the room. Maybe especially then. Take it easy, Bridger, Ezra ordered himself. He wasn’t going to ruin their friendship. Not now, not ever.

“I’m good,” he said.

[carmichealroyals]

CHARACTER INSPIRATION // C H A L L E N G E

Rules: Write up a blurb or make a visual collage of the people or characters (from books, TV shows, movies, etc.) that inspired your OC, either visually, personality wise, or just a general vibe.

I was tagged by this by so many lovely pals -- @thelockwoodroyals, @wa-royal-tea AND @ourwillowcreekroyals !!! I only feel bad that it took me so long but I wanted it to be as perfect as it could be while taking time to fiddle with Photoshop more (thank you @royaldevilliers for answering my silly questions). Below the cut are the descriptions for the personality types and tropes for each of the main three kids of this next generation! 

Not sure who’s done this yet, so if you see this and you want to do it, this is me telling you to do it!

CHARLOTTE:

The Protagonist:  Protagonists are natural-born leaders, full of passion and charisma. Forming around two percent of the population, they are oftentimes our politicians, our coaches and our teachers, reaching out and inspiring others to achieve and to do good in the world. With a natural confidence that begets influence, Protagonists take a great deal of pride and joy in guiding others to work together to improve themselves and their community.

Spirited Young Lady:  She is the girl who bends the rules just a little. Oh, she can dance a country dance or pour tea with the best of them, but she may also be a good walker or horseback rider. She may be the most intelligent girl in the story, and she is almost certainly the wittiest and the most outspoken, sometimes earning her the title of spitfire. She may be talented in more practical ways, as well: if given the opportunity, she may turn out to be a wise investor, and she may harbor talent for music, writing, or art that goes beyond drawing room entertainment and might become a means of financial independence if necessary. In rare cases, she may even solve a murder. Though she occasionally runs into some trouble, especially if she fails to obey the powers that be, she usually comes through in the end.

Deadpan Snarker: A character prone to gnomic, sarcastic, sometimes bitter, occasionally whimsical asides.The Deadpan Snarker exists to deflate pomposity, point out the unlikelihood of certain plans, and deliver funny lines. Typically the most cynical supporting character. In most cases, it is implied that the snarker would make a good leader, strategist, or consultant given their ability to instantly see the flaws in a constructed plan. More often than not, their innate snarkiness is the only thing preventing the other characters from comprehending this for themselves.

Politically Active Princess:  The Politically Active Princess is a princess that takes active interest in and plays an active role in politics. Naive courtiers and commoners alike might view her only as a figurehead, but in truth, she discreetly uses her position and guile in order to achieve her ends. Skilled in diplomacy, she will usually attempt to solve conflicts via conversation or bargaining, rather than combat. Her defining trait is her involvement in politics or diplomatic matters, without letting herself serve only as a bargaining chip.

Inspired by: Mia Thermopolis (The Princess Diaries); Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls); Vex’ahlia (Critical Role); Jenny Lee (Call the Midwife)

PETER: 

The Architect:  It can be lonely at the top. As one of the rarest personality types – and one of the most capable – Architects (INTJs) know this all too well. Rational and quick-witted, Architects may struggle to find people who can keep up with their nonstop analysis of everything around them.

The Dog Bites Back:  Unlike the Bastard Understudy and The Starscream, this character attacks as a crime of opportunity. There is no danger that he will take over the villain's place in the grand scheme of things. There is, however, a possibility that he will menace the others as a True Final Boss. The backstabber often ends up dead, but this is usually not Redemption Equals Death because their motive is not noble. Innocent victims who turn on the villain typically do it only for revenge, while evil victims prove that they were fine with all of the Big Bad's crimes except the one committed against them.

Middle Child Syndrome: Everyone loves the oldest child because the parents can rely on them, they watch out for their siblings, and they're so confidently attractive. The Youngest Child Wins because they're the "baby". But what does that leave the one in the middle? That's essentially the definition of Middle Child Syndrome, in which a child automatically may become The Unfavorite or the rebellious Black Sheep, specifically because they are the easiest child to overlook. They're not old enough to be given the responsibilities and privileges of the oldest, and the youngest child took their spot as the spoiled and doted-on "baby" of the family. This tends to be more of an issue when there are three children rather than four or more. Oftentimes in media, the middle child ends up becoming more of the Deadpan Snarker or the quirky one for this reason.

The Un-Favorite: Where there's an Alpha wolf, there's got to be a Beta. When there is a first banana, there is a second banana. This is the person in the family who can't get a break. For example, this is the child who's the big let-down to their parents, the daughter that was supposed to be a son (or vice-versa), the child the parents had by accident when they'd already decided they didn't need another mouth to feed, the adoptive, foster, or stepchild that came before the parents had a biological child, the illegitimate child conceived by infidelity on the part of one of the parents (if not even worse). But all in all, this is basically the kid who is always getting the short-end of the stick. In some extreme cases, this may cause Rich Sibling, Poor Sibling, especially if one sibling is forced into service to the other. A regular line that may be entailed with this is a variant of, "Honestly, [name], why can't you be more like [favorite's name]?"

Inspired by: Edith Crawley (Downton Abbey); Fiyero (Wicked: The Musical); Logan Huntzberger (Gilmore Girls); Rafael Solano (Jane the Virgin)

PEGGY: 

The Mediator:  Idealistic and empathetic, Mediators long for deep, soulful relationships, and they feel called to help others. But because this personality type makes up such a small portion of the population, Mediators may sometimes feel lonely or invisible, adrift in a world that doesn’t seem to appreciate the traits that make them unique.

The Baby of the Bunch: Being the youngest of your group typically comes with some perks and challenges. On one side you're probably the cutest, have a pass to act immature, people like taking care of you, and you can embrace your fun side, knowing that the elders are there to handle the serious stuff. And if there's anything you're naïve about, you have plenty of others to give you the realest unfiltered advice without the generational gap and detachment that your parents or the Old Master have. On the other end, sometimes people don't take you seriously. There you're kinda stuck because no matter how old you get, you'll always be "the baby" in their eyes.

Indifferent Beauty: A character who is attractive, aware of their effect on other people, but doesn't care or at least doesn't value their physical attractiveness over their other traits. Often, this character is a consummate professional who is well aware of the fact that they could use their "assets" to get what they want by other means, but feels that it would be unprofessional or beneath their dignity, and is instead focused on proving that they can compete purely on skill, often to the exclusion of romantic opportunities. While such characters are not averse to dressing in sexy outfits, they don't plan on relying on or even exploiting their sex appeal - but the camera will often do that for them. Other characters' indifference is not due to regarding relying on appearance to be beneath their dignity, but rather that they consider it to be unimportant.

Spoiled Sweet:  The Spoiled Sweet character is a naive, spoiled, rich or comfortably upper-class or upper-middle-class girl, who has everything they could ever want, but instead of being mean, she is as nice as can be to everyone. While still spoiled, slightly naive, perhaps shallow, maybe even a bit selfish at times, when it comes right down to it, she is a loyal friend and doesn't use her money or popularity as an excuse to treat everyone like garbage — though the trope Rich in Dollars, Poor in Sense is in play, especially since a particularly common sticking point is that characters of this type often believe their friends and other loved ones deserve to live just as well as they do.

Inspired by: Rory Gilmore (Gilmore Girls); Beth March (Little Women); Pike Trickfoot (Critical Role); Peggy Schuyler (Hamilton: An American Musical)

[bitletsanddrabbles]

WIP Wednesday: Dash it, Jeeves, which way’s the bedroom?

Given that I was just complaining about my inability to find a blue print to Highclere’s upper reaches, it seemed appropriate that today’s snippet be from one of the spots where I most wish I had one. And so we see Bertie Wooster, guest of Lord Grantham, enacting one of his most brilliant schemes ever despite the fact that Jeeves, his  brain clearly starting to go at last, did not see it’s genius and advised against it.

Also, I think every writer should do at least one short piece in the style of Wodehouse at some point. It’s terribly fun.

Cut text because it’s rather long.

As I predicted, Horatio took one look at me, standing in front of his beloved with a carving knife, and leapt to the most dire conclusion. As I predicted, he swiftly moved to protect the delicate object of his affection. As Jeeves had predicted, I seemed to have underestimated the vehemence of his reaction. His face turned a decided aubergine colour. His mustache bristled. I couldn’t swear but that a couple puffs of smoke didn’t go billowing out his nose.

I took a step backward.

He took a step forward. He slowly extended his hands in the general direction of my neck.

I took another step, with him following. It should never be said that Woosters are cowards, but on the third step, me retreating and this lumbering beast coming after, something broke inside me. I dropped the carving knife and bolted. There was a bellow like an irate hippopotamus and the sound of footsteps behind me and I knew, without looking over my shoulder, that the chase, as they say, was on. The halls of Downton Abbey quickly took on the semblance of the Valley of Death and I, without making reply or reasoning why, charged through them. Someone had blundered, and that someone was Bertram.

“Now Horatio, I know what you’re thinking,” I tried to reason as I hastened myself down the gallery. “That can’t have looked very well at all.”

“I’m going to break your spine in five places and then beat you to jelly!” was the well reasoned response.

I decided to save my breath for running. Downton Abbey is a very squareish sort of building. The gallery runs around the periphery so that Horatio and I could have been running in circles, or more to the point squares, all night. Given the floor we were on, that didn’t seem preux to the gently nurtured guests, so when we reached the stairs, I transferred floors as smoothly as possible with the goal of reaching my own room, sequestering myself inside, and locking the door. Perhaps the Girton-Brattle menace would be more inclined to conversation if the option was breaking down a piece of solid oak. It was a sound enough plan, but there were two hitches. The first was that I lost some speed on the stairs, putting my neck in closer proximity to those iron bending hands. The second was that while trying to make up the lost time, I inadvertently turned the wrong direction upon reaching the bachelor’s quarters, thus charging away from my room, rather than towards. It occurred to me to try and correct, but the time I realized my mistake, my pursuer had reached the top of the stairs, so reversing course would have been to deliver myself to the jelly pot.

The next step, it seemed obvious, was to cast around for a hiding place. The problem there was that Horatio was so hot on my heels that he’d see where I had stowed myself and be after me like a dog with a ferret gone to ground. Also, while there were doors aplenty, I had no idea which rooms were occupied and one does not like to simply charge in on a chap while he’s relaxing for the night. As a last resort, I started to cast about for some sort of weapon. I somewhat regretted not holding on to the carving knife. On the other hand, that was a rather short range weapon and would have involved putting myself within grabbing distance, something I was eager to avoid. If I could have gotten in one of the rooms, a fire poker or something of the sort might have been acquired which would have done the trick. As a bonus, I likely could have hidden behind a door, giving me enough cover to spring from behind. I finally spotted a niche in the wall ahead, one of those places where decorations are put to make a place look a bit dressier and, if I remembered correctly, this one housed a vase. Not the ideal means of defense, naturally, but at least something I could lob at the thick skull with enough force to do some useful damage. I could only hope that the vase was not some priceless heirloom, rife with sentimental whatnot. One really does not want to go about breaking his host’s sentimental doodads, but this was an emergency.

I had almost reached my goal when there was a sort of thudding noise behind me and the air was coloured with some less than polite sentiment. Under the oath I thought I heard a polite, “Terribly sorry, sir,” but I didn’t stop to investigate until I had reached the aforementioned niche and was hoisting the previously noted vase that resided there in. Only then did I turn around to see what had transpired. Of course, having missed the actual incident, I had to do some guess work, but what I surmised was as follows:

As Horatio Girton-Brattle had come plummeting down the hallway, intent on Bertram’s demise, Mr. Barrow had stepped from one of the side rooms. In doing so, he had impeded Horatio’s forward momentum, either with a door or his body, in full or in part. Horatio, not thinking clearly, had been so incensed by the interruption, that he had given up his pursuit of yours truly and now had Barrow pinned to the door by his neck. The room beyond that door must have been occupied, because I was aware in a dimmish sort of way of banging from the interior and an indecipherable sort of yelling.

The truly surprising thing was how unperturbed Barrow seemed to be by the whole thing.

“Watch where you’re going, you miserable little worm!” Horatio’s loving words were clearly audible, even at a bit of a distance.

“Terribly sorry, sir,” Barrow repeated. He sounded neither agitated nor particularly sorry.

Apparently Horatio picked up on the lack of true sorrow. I’m not certain, but I think I heard the gnashing of teeth. “I should beat you to a jelly, tripping me like that.”

Now, a mere mortal would have quailed at the thought. There would have been stammerings and possibly pleadings. But apparently this Barrow was made of sterner stuff than most men, because all he said was, “I wish you wouldn’t, sir. It would make a mess of the hall rug.”

It is said that the best of men lead by example. That their good deeds and gallantry will inspire the lesser men. So it was in this case. The words of this butler among butlers inspired me to gather my courage. If he could face down a raging Girton-Brattle, then why not I? It helped that the confrontation had put Horatio with his back to me. It seemed but the work of a moment to retrace my steps and, with one swift motion, bring my weapon down upon the head of this fearsome specimen, hopefully with enough force to incapacitate him. The only cause for hesitation was, as before, the inevitable demise of the vase and my uncertainty as to it’s value. I had no great desire to be thrown out on my ear at this late hour.

My decision was made for me when a noise emitted from Horatio much like I would imagine a pipe explosion in a mechanics factory would sound. That it is to say it was loud, sort of whistling, and seemed to spell doom for any and all near the blast area. Unable to simply let Barrow stand there and be jellied after he had, purposefully or not, saved me, I started forward, vase raised. Fortunately for the vase, and possibly for Bertram, if I’d not managed to connect with enough force, before I arrived a very authoritative, most vexed voice demanded, “What on earth is going on here?”

I came screeching to a halt, the vase being instinctively tucked into a safe place under one arm. I had not immediately recognized the voice. It was familiar, but something about the tone made it so I couldn’t put a finger on the speaker. I was therefore somewhat surprised when Lord Grantham strode into view, his face set with righteous anger. At tea and dinner he’d looked like a mostly mild mannered sort of old boy, perfectly happy sipping his port and playing with the dog. I wouldn’t have imagined him to look quite so much as a big game hunter advancing on an elephant that’s had the poor sense to trample the lion he was hunting, particularly as he was wearing a dressing robe. A short way behind him was a tall, broadish looking chap with an odd gate that I soon realized was due to his leaning on a walking stick. This, I surmised, was Mr. Bates. Behind Mr. Bates shimmered the familiar and trusted form of Jeeves.

If all I had to write in this piece was Bertie’s PoV, I’d probably have finished by now, novel or not. Unfortunately it also requires Jeeves’s PoV which Wodehouse only wrote once and which is really rather slippery to get a hold of. But you need that upstairs, downstairs feel for it to be properly Downton...

[poplarpriestess]

Turning Points - Chapter 1

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12303666/1/Turning-Points

Written for NanoWrimo 2016. Disclaimer: Neither Call The Midwife or Downton Abbey belong to me. I just enjoy both immensely and am having some fun by mixing both up. Summary: When Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes run into trouble as teenagers in Yorkshire, they make a choice which defines the rest of their lives. Little do they know, their choice will also change Julienne Newgarden’s life forever too. Turning Points Chapter 1

Yorkshire, the late 60s…

There was something about being hand in hand with Charles Carson which Elsie Hughes did not think she was ever going to be able to put into words. It was the sheer connection of feeling him right next to her, palm to palm.

It was intimate in a way that did not need to be shut behind closed doors, that was what she had heard one of the other lasses at the Abbey say. She had been out for the evening with her feller and she had come back full of it. Of course, the others had all either quizzed her, desperate for the gossip and for a love of their own, or they had ignored her and insisted they were too high above her to care about such things when nothing could be further from the truth as the poor lass had come back to the female corridor that night.

As for Elsie she had had a different reaction – that was because for the first time in her life she had understood what had been described. She had lain in her bed and she had listened through the open door and she had had a smile on her face as she heard every word. But it was not because of the other lasses date night.

It was not a foreign concept to her or something to be longed for. It was something which she had, something which she knew she was lucky enough to have in her life.  It was something – something very precious to her indeed.

She and Charles had been working together for three years – she had arrived at Downton Abbey when she was fifteen, fresh out of school, right in the twilight of its day. There was no chance she was going to spend her life in service there and for that she could only be glad. She wanted so much more for herself than the girls had had in the past and she was not going to settle for anything because other people though it was the right life for her.

She knew for example the day that she gave the job up her mother and father were going to think she had lost her mind. But that would not be the truth. She would leave at just the right moment when there was somewhere for her to go.

And when she did go she was not going to be leaving alone.

She and Charles Carson had always got on. They had a lot in common after all. While she knew he had had a lot more love for the place where they worked and for that matter, the people … what the two of them did share was work ethic. Neither of them were slackers or likely to tolerate it later in their careers.

They both also loved to read, to walk in the beautiful country side in which they were lucky enough to live and also to spend their evenings quietly but at the same time, together.

But that did not got to say the two of them were identical in everything for she knew that at times, they could be very different. There were faults in his character which she recognized and did condemn from time to time but not too strongly. After all, she was as human as he was and she had no doubt she had her own faults.

Besides anything else,  she loved him – all of him, for good and ill – far more than any condemnation.

She loved his strength and his truth and his honesty.

She loved his eyes and his smile and the touch of his warm hands.

She loved his laugh, she loved his voice, the way he said her name.

All of it – and all of it she had discovered just this summer.

It had been the day of the fair – that was when this new chapter in their friendship had begun - and she did not think it was an exaggeration to say her life, she felt, had begun. He had not even been sure that he wished to go. Some silliness about getting something done when the rest of the household were out…

She had rolled her eyes. She knew he wished to progress in his job and he was not afraid of the hard work to get there.

But when the house was busy he did his own work load and about ten other foot man’s job (which was lucky because there were only two others – and having two footmen in the sixties was almost unheard of)… She had decided then and there she was not going to stand for it anymore… he was not a man to put himself first and it was beginning to show.  He had bags beginning to develop under his eyes and she had begun to notice he laughed less easily. Not a great surprise – though the estate had not ran as it had done in its hay day since the two of them had joined, they were both nevertheless aware that the time in which the Crawley’s were going to life at the house were numbered. There was much change in the air and if there was one thing her friend could not stand then it had to be change.

Every day there was more and more talk of whether it was going to be English Heritage or National Trust who took it over and while Elise found the idea that the house was going to be conserved appealing – for she was not immune to the beauty of it, even if she could see the grotesque which was involved in it – Charles could not quite believe that their, or more correctly his family, would not remain where they had been of so many years.

As she had said to him in one of her harsher moments though, the world was never going to again be in the Victorian or the Edwardian period – they had come so far from all of that there could be no return to the time of their grandfathers, especially not after the world had suffered through two world wars. Then there was the poverty which so many families had still had to endure after…

No, the time of grand lord and ladies was well and truly done.

“I know that!” he sad said with annoyance before storming off.

But none of that had taken place on the day of the fair. On the day of the fair there had been no annoyance or crossed words.

It had been the kind of day when the two of them had could just enjoy being together.

“Oh no – not today!”  she had said as she had begun to drag him out of the abbey and down to Downton village. “You my lad are coming with me.” she did not know what had inspired her to take him in hand that day. There had been a million other like it when she had left him to his work but – but there was so much more to life than work.

And all of a sudden she had been the one who wanted to make him see that.

And so they had gone down to the fair together and she had made him watch while she and Beryl went about on the carrousel before making it up to him by buying him a beer. The frown which had been on his face since they had left the house begun to begrudgingly turn into a smile.

Quite aside from the fact that she had been right – it was good to get out of the old place for a while it turned out – she did look very, very pretty in her pink shirt and denim dress. He was the last man in the world to be unaffected by the charms of Elsie Hughes, not that she knew that.

That was when Charles had begun to open up. When in Rome, after all…

”Well if I am here then I may as well have a go on the coconut shy!”

He, in return, had won her a little toy bear. For a moment it had reminded her of another fair and another life time ago, but then she had shaken the thought out of her head. She had not wanted to remember Joe Burns. Not quite then – he had been a nice enough lad…  but not when she had been with Charles Carson. Joe was nice enough. But all of a sudden it had seemed as if it was wrong to compare the two. Silly as it was to think, she mused to herself, even though the two of them were just friends – there seemed all of a sudden to be a lot more weight to what she shared with Charles.

She told herself it was because they were that little bit older – they had a bit more in common. They shared more aspects of their lives. After all she may have gone to school with Joe, but she worked with Charles, lived in the same building.  They shared nearly every meal time in that out dated servants hall.

“The two of you are having fun – I am going to leave the two of you too it,” Beryl had said to her with a wink as before she had gone off to find Bert Mason, one of the team of gardeners at the Abbey who Beryl would quite like to have some fun with herself.

Elsie had grimaced for she had not quite liked the mirth with which her friend had said that before he had returned to Charles.

“It seems as if we have been abandoned,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, we can only count that as her loss… candy floss?” he had offered.

“I was beginning to wonder what was taking you so long to ask!” she said with a grin. He knew she had a sweet tooth after all.

And that was where the night had really begun.

It had ended with the two of them walking back up to the abbey.

It was the kind of summer night that they did not often get up in Yorkshire. Even through there was a breeze it was by no means cold and Elsie had no need of the contingency cardigan which she had taken down to the fair in her bag.

The sun had not long since set. No one had told the stars that though – far away from the lights of the fair, they shone as brightly as they ever had.

“Thank you for tonight,” Charles had said to her with a soft smile on his face – not the huge bright one she had seen throughout the evening, but one which suggested there was true sincerity breath its depths.

“You’re quite welcome…”

There had been a pause before he had turned to her. “I did need to get out,” he admitted.

He hadn’t wanted to say it at the beginning of the night. But she had seen that was the truth and like the true friend she was she had made sure it had happened.

“I know you are taking all of this hard – but it is not personal. It is just the way of the world.” she said softly.

It was not meant as a rebuke or a lecture.

“The truth is I envy you. Having something which you are so proud of and able to be so passionate about.”

It was not that she had a lack of these things – the Scottish highlands and the strength which they had shown after all they had had to endure in the last few years – the last century and beyond - was surely which she was proud of. It was something which she was fiercely proud of.

But it did not harm to be gentle with him.

They were from very different backgrounds and they were from very different lives – but it was all relative and despite her young age she felt she had lived through enough years to know that.

He gave her a soft smile and took his hand in his own before lifting it to his mouth and leaving a kiss there.

“No matter what changed the two of us have to face – I think I will be ok with them if the two of us can face them together.” His voice was low as he said that and she knew like many Englishmen he could have more than a little trouble admitting the truth of how he felt, which made it all the more precious to her when he did.

A huge smile graced her face as she cup she cupped his own handsome face between her two hands.

There beneath the moonlight, on a perfects summer evening, the two of them kissed and the world seemed to fade into nothing.

X x x

That all seemed as if it was a long time ago as the summer drew to a close. Not a season had passed since the two of them had begun to get closer – not a full one any way – and yet it seemed as if the two of them had been especial friends a lot longer.

And so together, Charles and Elsie had walked out of the abbey that evening in pursuit of quiet time and somewhere to have a picnic.

It was in many ways the perfect end to the summer. What she could only hope was going to be their first summer together. It had been a season of hand holding and lips brushed up against one another and all manner of blissfully innocent expressions of love and due to Beryl being the one to pack their picnic basket rather than one of them, they now had a delicious meal to end it with.

The sandwiches of ham and cucumber had been made with just the right amount of spread, the small, cold pies which had been part of the luncheon meal were as delicious as they had been when they were served warm and the crisps and cordial packed finished the meal nicely.

“It is not going to be too long before it is too cold for us to do this,” Elsie said as she leant back into Charles arms.

“This is why we are doing it now,” he hummed softly. “So the memory can keep us warm over winter.”

“Is there going to be nothing else to keep me warm in the winter?” she asked in a manner which she was well aware was just a little bit tartly.

Craning her head round she was able to see his face she was pleased to see there was a rather devilish smile there.

“I can think of one other thing,” he said as their lips brushed together.

“So I can feel,” Elsie smirked before turning to look at him.

“I – I – Elsie, I am sorry.”

Elsie could not help but laugh a little at how flustered he was.

She hushed him gentle before finding her fingers was on his lips and their eyes locked.

For just a moment it seemed to her as if the entire world was perfectly still.

There was no wind in the air.

There were no sounds from any other being human or animal. It seemed too Elsie in a way desperately quiet.  It was almost as if the earth itself was making its mind up about them.

This was not the first time they had found themselves caught in such a moment.

There had been quite a few throughout the summer and Elsie knew them for what they were.

Turning points.

Did she go left or right?

She knew what her mother and father would have her do and that would be save herself for marriage. But the closet she got to him the less she wanted too.

Emotionally she loved the way the two of them were together.  The two of them were in sync. That was not to say they agreed on everything – god knew they were never going to do that.

But the wobbles and the fights were not important. What was important was they felt. And when it came down to the things that mattered – the two of them agreed.

She kissed him, gently at first there lips brushing together as they had done so many times before.  And as the kiss deepened, she leant into him, just as she had done before.

But every other time she had been able to stop it – make some reason why the two of  they had to stop, whether it be to get back to the house to go to work or to get somewhere else or simply to say good night.

But his hands were so warm and she loved him so much,

Her hand sort the warm flesh beneath his shirt.  That was new.

It was softer than she had thought it was going to be.

It was Charles who pulled back then – not her.

She knew he was a man of tradition. May be he was the one who would stop them. And may be that was going to be all for the best in the long run.

But he did not say anything. He only looked deep in to her eyes once more as if he was looking for something.  He cupped her cheek gently and run his thumb back and forth across her check. And it was apparent he found it for soon he was returning her kiss with the passion with which she was giving to him.

For the first time ever when they were together he was less than a complete gentleman. His hands begun to wonder.

She was not sure if she was more intrigued or afraid but the one thing she did know was she did not want to stop. She had never let the fear of the unknown stop her from doing anything. Not leaving home. Not starting work. Not anything.

She would be damned if she was going to let it stop the two of them becoming closer.

For a moment she wondered if they should go down and in to the village. They could not go back to the house to do what they wanted to do… but they could go to the Grantham Arms.

Yet... She did not want to move from where they were out in the last of the summer’s evenings with no one but each other.

His hand went higher and higher up her leg and she breathed in and out.

And kept steady.

“I love you,” he said very gentle as his fingers brushed places she was not used to being touched.

Whether she was entirely relaxed or entirely on edge… it didn’t matter.

“I love you too – and I trust you.”

That was all he needed to know.

They did not get back to the abbey till long after curfew having had a night the two of them were bound never to forget and having made a choice at a cross roads which would rule the rest of their lives.

Please review!

[aion-rsa]

The Teleprompter Interview: Laura Carmichael ‘Doctor Who Used to Give Me Nightmares’

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Australian thriller The Secrets She Keeps, currently airing on BBC One and iPlayer, takes the audience to a very dark place says Laura Carmichael. Her character Agatha, a supermarket worker who befriends a pregnant blogger, ‘does such unbelievable things, the most irresponsible things’ driven ‘by the impulse of motherhood’.

Building a crime thriller around that impulse makes the series relatable, says Carmichael. At its heart, the show is about ‘wanting to be a mum and wanting to be the perfect mum.’ As her character’s backstory unfolds, ‘you understand her’ says Carmichael, though ‘she absolutely puts people through hell.’ Whether Agatha could ever be forgiven, she says, is a question for the audience to mull.

There’s no talk of a second series as yet for The Secret She Keeps. ‘It was taken from the book, which stands alone,’ Carmichael explains, ‘but it would be great to revisit and see what would happen.’

As the finale arrives in the US on streaming service Sundance Now, the Downton Abbey and The Spanish Princess actor talks Den of Geek through her TV obsessions and memories.

Which TV show inspired you to start your acting career?

I loved all of the Sunday afternoon BBC shows. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe and all of the Narnia series, that we had on VHS. I loved Five Children and It and those classic dramas, mixed with MGM musicals. Those big productions always seemed like a dream. From a kid, I was very much spending Sunday afternoons in front of the TV.

What was your first TV love?

I remember loving Pride and Prejudice and The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, they were the mad two worlds when I think about what I loved as a kid, watching lots of TV with my sisters.

Was there a TV character you wanted to be when you were little?

Deeply inappropriately as a child I remember being obsessed with Ab Fab. Before I knew anything about what they were talking about or what any of the jokes meant, I wanted to be Patsy and Eddie.

Have you ever done fancy dress as a TV character?

Yes, Ab Fab. We were around 10 or 11. I was Eddie, my younger sister was Patsy. I had a Kangol beret and had curled my hair and wore bright red lipstick with a 70s-style shirt with a crop top over it and a jazzy waistcoat. The outfit was so good, it was really perfect.

And there is photographic evidence which I have shown to Joanna Lumley when she came to do a charity event on Downton and we were able to recreate the pose.

What’s your current TV obsession?

I’m going to struggle to not answer every single question with I May Destroy You because of how brilliant that is. What Michaela Coel’s been able to do is so personal and yet it feels as though the world is just saying ‘yes!’ We are so tuned in to what she is saying and how she is saying it.

When did you last cry watching television?

This morning, watching the finale of I May Destroy You.

And when did you last laugh out loud watching television?

During lockdown, we’ve been watching lots of Curb Your Enthusiasm. We’ve gone the whole way through and back again. It’s just getting better and better as Larry David allows himself to go further and further into Larryisms, and it always makes me l-o-l. ‘Lol’ is a joke in the series, by the way! It really annoys Larry that this woman says l-o-l rather than laughing.

Which TV show has given you nightmares?

I’ve been watching The Sopranos again and I have been having gangster dreams. Because it’s the story of the family, it doesn’t always feel like it’s about violence but then it’ll catch you unawares and you’ll see someone be tipped into a river and I’ve definitely had one of those nightmares.

From childhood, there’s so many things. Doctor Who used to give me nightmares, anything with weird sound effects. Also the film The Water Babies, it’s really creepy. It’s about a kid who drowns and then becomes a water baby and it’s terrifying.

What was the last TV show you recommended to someone?

I really loved Shrill with the brilliant actress Aidy Bryant who’s in lots of Saturday Night Live, and also Lolly Adefope, who I think is hysterical. You can watch it on BBC iPlayer. It’s another great female-led comedy show, very relatable and very funny. Also I’m always telling people to watch Stath Lets Flats, which I think is just genius. This Country, amazing. When you’re doing some heavy drama in the day I really like switching off and just laughing my head off.

Older comedies, French and Saunders again, I have fangirled over them and am a huge fan of their work. Smack the Pony when I was growing up was such a huge thing for me. They were so cool and sexy. When you think of Britpop and cool 90s, I do think of those girls. Sally Phillips is so funny. I have done a comedy film with her and she was very gracious about the fact that I was supposed to throw something at her head and not hit her but I hit her square in the head with a baby monitor and she was so lovely about it! I always cringe when I remember that.

Which TV show have you never seen that everybody keeps nagging you to watch?

I have not seen Breaking Bad, which is terrible. This is a confession.

Straight to prison!

It’s really bad, I know. I find dramas really consuming, and that feels like going into something quite intense and stressful. That’s one I’m working up to.

Which TV theme songs do you know the words to?

I guess that would be The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

Does it come out at parties?

Only after several beers.

Is there a TV show from your back catalogue that you think deserves a wider audience?

I really did love Man in an Orange Shirt which was out a few years ago on the BBC. I’m in it a bit, but it’s about these two guys that fall in love during the Second World War and have this amazing love story. You see the characters and their families later and see how it’s affected them. It’s a really beautiful piece of writing and really amazing performances from James McArdle and Oliver Jackson-Cohen.

Given the power, which TV show would you commission?

A tricky one. I think it might have to be something to do with dogs. I have a hilarious Jack Russell and since getting him, I find myself watching more dog programmes because I get a kick out of him watching it as well, so maybe just a Dogs Behaving Badly compilation.

What was the most fun you’ve had making television?

Oh man. Probably the finale of Downton. It was a real riot because it was the end of a really happy job. The day that we shot [Michelle Dockery] Mary’s wedding to Matthew Goode, it was really sunny and there wasn’t lots of dialogue or a lot of heavy lifting but everyone was in. I’ve got lots of funny photos on my phone of Michelle and Matthew just messing around. We were just all being quite silly and giddy, sitting in the gardens laughing our heads off. That’s a very happy memory.

The Secrets She Keeps is available to stream on Sundance Now and BBC iPlayer

The post The Teleprompter Interview: Laura Carmichael ‘Doctor Who Used to Give Me Nightmares’ appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[akissatmidnight]

Good morning, fellow Outlander fans! Today, I’m getting into one of my favorite things…History! Specifically, I’ll be talking all about the Scottish clans and giving you a little Outlander love along the way! Because there are numerous Highland and Lowland clans, I’ll be picking some of my favorites with the most amount of history fun.

The Gregor/MacGregor Clan

Clan Motto: Roighal Mo Dhream-Royal is my Race

Minor Motto: Een dhn bait spair nocht-Slay and spare not (this one is so metal)

War Cry: Ard choille!-The woody height!

The Traditional Tartan

The “Primitive” Tartan

The Highland Dance Tartan

Here are several facts associated with this the MacGregors:

They were among the first clans to adopt the bagpipe in the 1600s!

In 1603 James IV outlawed the MacGregor name, forcing them to renounce their heritage or die. Many took on other Scottish names, but others were hanged.

During the Jacobite Risings, the Gregor clan (which was not an outlawed name), fought with the Jacobites and was defeated at the Battle of Littleferry, making them unable to participate in the Battle of Culloden.

The MacGregors were reestablished in the 1800s, finally bringing back the chiefs.

The only MacGregor mentioned in Outlander is Alexander MacGregor, the 18 year old cattle thief who was a victim of Black Jack Randall, and the initial owner of Jamie’s bible.

I’ve written a romance novel, The Amethyst Bride, featuring a MacGregor man. You can read about it here!

Clan Fraser of Lovat

Clan Motto: Je Suis Prest- I am Ready

War Cry #1: A Mhor-fhaiche!- The Great Field!

War Cry #2:Caisteal Dhuni- Castle Dounie (referring to their ancestral seat)

Fraser of Lovat Tartan

Dress Tartan

Jamie Fraser Tartan (NOT an actual Fraser Tartan)

Here are several facts associated with this clan:

There is also the “Lowland Fraser Clan”, which is entirely separate from the Frasers of Lovat.

The Frasers fought with William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, who you might know from the (historically inaccurate) movie Braveheart, in 1303.

The clan supported Mary Queen of Scots in the Siege of Inverness in 1562.

A real man named James Fraser hid in a cave for years after surviving the Battle of Culloden. Read more about him here!

The Frasers have participated, in force, in all of the wars based on American soil, such as the Seven Years War and the Revolutionary War.

Here are some bonus pics of our fav Fraser…

Clan MacNaughten

Clan Motto: I Hoip in God-I Hope in God

War Cry: Fraoch Eilean!- The Heathery Isle!

The clan’s tartan…festive.

Here are several facts about this clan…

This clan are descendents of the Picts, some of the earliest, tribal, dwellers of Scotland. Possibly with Celtic roots.

They opposed Robert the Bruce (ya know…the Braveheart guy) and when he took the throne, they lost much of their lands to the Campbells.

There are many forms of this clan, such as McNitt, Macnaughton, McNett…and McKnight! Yeah, it’s my family’s father clan!

The MacLeod Clan

Clan Motto: Hold Fast

Old Clan Motto: Murus aheneus esto- Be the wall of brass

Their traditional tartan

The hunting tartan

Here are some interesting facts about the MacLeods:

My first historical romance novel, Queen of Emeralds, follows a MacLeod Chief and a British Heiress. You can read about it here!

They are the holders of the Fairy Flag. Shrouded in mystery, this flag is said to have come from the far east, possibly made by vikings, or have been used during the crusades. But in one popular MacLeod tale, the Fairy Flag was wrapped around a MacLeod Chief’s baby by a group of fairies. It has been artfully preserved and says to have the power to heal the sick, give military prowess to in battle, and protect the clan in times of famine or danger. But you’re not supposed to touch it, nor photograph it…but here’s a photo lol.

In the early 1600’s, the Clan MacLeod of Lewis became extinct and the seat, Castle Leod, it fell into the hands of the Mackenzie clan. It then became the seat of the Mackenzies. It was also the inspiration for Castle Leoch in the Outlander book series. It would have been used for filming, as it is still in good condition, but another castle was selected instead.

Castle Leod

The Mackenzie Clan

Clan Motto: Luceo Non Uro-I Shine Not Burn

Clan War Cry:Tulach Àrd-The High Hill

Dress tartan

Regimental tartan

Outlander show Mackenzie tartan (NOT actual Mackenzie tartan)

Let’s look at some fun Clan Mackenzie facts…

Mackenzie is actually an Anglicized version of “Mac Coinnich”, which means handsome.

They were once the 4th most powerful clan in Scotland.

In the 17th century, the Crahan Seer  foretold that the direct Seaforth Mackenzie line would die out after a deaf mute was born. A few years later there was a Seaforth Mackenzie named Francis. Wouldn’t you know, a bout of Scarlet Fever made him deaf and mute and he outlived all his sons, ending the line for good.

Here are some bonus pics of your fav Mackenzies…

Outlander Season 2 2016

  The Wallace Clan

Clan Motto: Pro Libertate- For Liberty

Clan War Cry: Freedom!

The Wallace tartan

Here are a few little facts about the Wallace Clan…but mostly William Wallace.

The Wallace clan came to Scotland in the 11th century from Normandy, France.

The true William Wallace is nothing like what you saw in Braveheart!

Little Willie wasn’t a poor orphaned kid. He was raised a nobleman and even became a knight. Far cry from the ragamuffin living in a shack.

Wallace never met Isabelle of France. Girl was like…5 when he was participating in Scottish military endeavors.

Wallace wouldn’t have worn a kilt. Kilts didn’t become a thing in Scotland until the 1600’s. So no butt flashing in real life.

Scots in the 12 and 13,000s never painted their faces blue. The Picts did to scare off Roman invaders hundreds of years before Wallace was even a gleam in his noble father’s eye.

But he was hanged, drawn, and quartered…so that’s true. Yay?

Robert the Bruce was the real Braveheart. Literally. After he died, his heart was removed and given it’s own fancy casket.

Clan Murray

Clan Motto:Furth, Fortune, and Fill the Fetters.

Old Motto: Tour Pret- Quite Ready

Murray of Atholl Tartan

Murray of Tullibardine Tartan

Here are a few facts about this clan:

They descended from Flemish and Norman lords and prided themselves on being from noble stock.

After Culloden, there was a massive diaspora from the Highlands, due to persecution of the clans. A great number of Murrys settled in Nova Scotia.

Their old crest featured a mermaid

This clan maintains the old private regiment in Europe; the Atholl Highlanders. This is because Queen Victoria was so moved by the Murrays of Atholl’s greeting to her upon visiting the country, she repealed the man that outlawed Scottish military regiments, just for them.

Bonus gif of our fav Murray…

Clan Campbell

Clan Motto: Ne Obliviscaris- Forget Not

Clan War Cry: Cruachan!- Referrs to a popular rallying spot in times of crisis

Here are some facts about this clan:

At one point, they were the largest and most powerful clan in Scotland.

Their name might have come from the phrase “cam bul”, which means “crooked mouth”, referring to a founder of the clan.

They could be d*cks…especially to the MacDonald clan. But, that’s how you stay on top. We’ll talk about their issues in a bit.

Their castle seat, Inveraray Castle, was used in some filming for the show Downton Abbey.

Clan MacLean

Clan Motto: Virtue, Mine, Honor

Clan War Cry: Bàa no Beatha- Death or Life

Here are some fun facts about the MacLean clan…

They are one of the oldest clans in Scotland and are known for their fierceness in battle.

in the 1500s a chief named Lachlan MacLean married a Campbell girl. He hated her so much, and instead of just ignoring her and getting a mistress like the other guys in the 1500s, tied her to a rock by the sea in hopes the tide would drown her. But much like a Batman villain, he was too cocky and didn’t see her death through. She was saved by a fisherman and one of her brothers killed Lachlan…but he deserved it.

Clan Donald/MacDonald

Clan Motto: Per Mare Per Terras-By Sea and By Land Minor Clan Motto: Fraoch Eilean-The Heathery Isle

Here are some interesting things to know about the Donalds…

One of the oldest on record, the clan is descended form both the Norse and the Celts.

The MacDonalds were sneaky in the Battle of Culloden!

Many of them bailed when they saw how the Scots were being slaughtered

They also had two minor regiments fighting for the British, so some of the smaller groups were able to maintain their positions and lands.

Remember how I told you that the Campbells and MacDonalds had some major bad blood?

In 1642, a group of Campbell soldiers in Ireland were ordered to kill all the MacDonald Catholics and threw dozens, possibly even hundreds, to their deaths over a cliff. This sparked a long series of battles between the two clans

And the Campbells kept being jerks…any Game of Thrones fans? Remember “The Red Wedding”? Well that scene was inspired by the Massacre of Glencoe, where a bunch of Campbells came to chill with the MacDonalds of Glencoe…as you can probably guess, it ended up with the Campbell forces massacring numerous people, burning homes, and allowing scores of woman and children to die of exposure.

Shown: Frank Randall partying it up at the Red Wedding before it all went to shite.

 Are you part of a clan? Which one? 

That’s it for this week! I know I didn’t come close to covering a fraction of the clans, but I think we all had fun. Was your clan not mentioned? Let us know, maybe we’ll bring up the clans in a future post. And make sure to check out out Outlander page here to help you through Droughtlander.

And see who’s hot for teacher in Sarah’s contemporary romance series here and learn about Kelsey’s contemporary and Scottish romance series here!

An Outlandish Clan History Good morning, fellow Outlander fans! Today, I'm getting into one of my favorite things...History! Specifically, I'll be talking all about the Scottish clans and giving you a little…

[holhopecostumier-blog]

illustration module final designs

I haven’t blogged about my illustration module in detail, only mentioned it in previous posts with how things are related to the project. With my deadline within the next few weeks I only have a few minor tweaks to do to complete my sketchbook for hand in. 

So, for this project we were asked to read and analyse J.B. Priestley’s ‘An Inspector Calls’ play, pick an era of our choice to set the play in and create designs for the individual characters for one of the acts. I have had alot of fun (and many late night drawing sessions) doing this module as I got to research further into one of my favourite eras, the 1920s. For this blog post I thought I would show my final designs that I have created for each character and why I chose it.

Although at the start of the play Mr Birling is described as this ‘heavy-looking, rather portentous man in his mid-fifties, I personally see him being shorter than Mrs Birling as she appears to be the higher socialite of the family. Because he is all business over family and has traditional values, I have put him in the classic tuxedo suit with white bow-tie and pleated bib. 

For Mrs Birling I researched into Edwardian fashion as I think much like her husband, she is traditional and because of her age she would be in the previous era’s fashions. As she has a clashing personality with her daughter Sheila, I wanted this to show throughout the clothing with the colour and amount of embellishment added - showing her superior role within the family, in which she is described to be ‘her husband’s social superior’. For this style I did take alot of inspiration from Violet Crawley from Downton Abbey as she fits the overall character of Mrs. Birling - by wearing previous fashions in the 1920s.

Their daughter Sheila is a young woman who is naive about everything in the world and how it works as well as with her engagement to Gerald Croft (Mr Birling seeing it as the joining of two businesses - Birling & Co and Croft Ltd). This is why I have put her in a light pink colour - to show her youthfulness and at the time, being in love. Another way of showing how young she is compared to her parents was by putting her in the 20s latest fashions of having no silhouette in the clothing, having short hair achieving the desired androgynous look. 

Eric Birling’s main attribute in the play is that he is portrayed to be an alcoholic. My attempt to show this in the final designs is something which is constantly hinted at in the script, is that he always has a glass of something in his hand. Sheila describes him as ‘squiffy’ in which I wanted his look for act 3 to look dishevelled or looking undone. Here I am mixing two ideas of Eric going with the traditional tuxedo look with the white bowtie and pleated bib but then wearing the 20s fashions to not only show his youth but also the clashing of personalities with his father.

Sheila’s fiance Gerald Croft is described as this ‘attractive chap about thirty... very much the well-bred young man-about-town’ in the script. As he is supposed to be this young socialite I decided dressing him up in fashionable 1920s wear would show off his personality well. I have put him in a grey tweed suit and made it alot slimmer, much was quite fashionable at the time. I have also included a red/pink necktie as it was a new addition to fashion as well as colour matching with Sheila’s dress.

For Edna, the Birling’s housemaid it was quite difficult to research into, but I mainly focused on secondary resources like the TV show Downton Abbey. In my research I found that by looking at the maid’s aprons you could sometimes tell what era the person began working due to the patterns which were fashionable at the time which I thought was a pretty cool fact. 

With the character of Inspector Goole I wanted to keep his costume quite muted and using dark colours to represent his mysterious and observant personality. I also wanted to show a clear contrast within the upper class of the Birlings and the working and middle class. He is in a 3-piece suit and bowler hat which was one of the norms of the 1920s. I did try some ideas with this costume trying to incorporate more of a police uniform but didn’t think it fitted well as he is more of an inspector than a policeman. 

~ holly

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