#greek national costume

[greektradition]

Greek traditional costumes 🇬🇷

[gemsofgreece]

A woman in an Amalia dress - the Greek national costume. Photo by Elias Pergantis.

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 12

______________________________

Present

"is that a ferry?" I ask, the hippocampus got closer and we saw something that said "Princess Andromeda", and the figurehead is a wooden woman tied to it

Princess Andromeda... Who?

Ah..

The wife of Perseus son of Zeus, she was to be sacrificed to Poseidon but Perseus saved her

How weird of her to have a ship, you personally, certainly won't step foot into the ocean after you were about to be sacrificed to it

A middle aged man scolds his three kids for jumping in the pool and points at a sign, a dog that looks somewhat human that looks like it belongs in the deepest pits of hell is in line for the buffet

You freeze up, is that an empousa?? A monster playing poker with a mortal human?

You look around and see variations of monsters and humans, seemingly happy in the cruise

What is this? Monster human united nations?

Don't get me wrong, you're not racist, it's just that monsters typically eat humans, so it's okay that you find it weird that a snake haired monster with poison blood is gambling with Jeff

(not Medusa, but gorgons)

"Is this a trap? A knockoff Lotus Hotel & Casino?" Percy scoffs

Annabeth holds your hand in a tight grip "Could be... But we don't know what it does, no one eat anything here"

"Lotus Hotel...?" You ask

Percy looks at you "Yeah... It's some magic hotel where time passes really slowly, like so slow, it's different for everyone, I met a guy there from the 70's and when I asked he said he'd only been there for two days, we felt we were only there for a couple of hours but it's actually been five days"

Oh shit.

"is... Is this hotel in Vegas?" You look nervous, Annabeth furrowed her brows "Yes, have you encountered it? It's dangerous and normal people wouldn't know how to get out"

"oh fuck... I may have been, no definitely, I should be older than I am right now, when my family and I were on a mi- vacation, I went inside this hotel, I was only there for like 20 minutes but they claimed I was gone for two years... I- holy shit. I was stuck in a hotel for two years" you exclaim

"how did you not know that was a trap? Have you not read the Odyssey? The lotus island and the lotus eaters?? I thought you were a fan of Greek mythology?" Annabeth asked

You roll your eyes "Well I'm sorry I didn't think a hotel was going to be related to a magical lotus island"

Tyson's face got sad "that scary... How you got out?"

"I don't know... All I remember was a pageant in the hotel, it was an event and- Oh." You stop

______________________________

Past

"Wow... This place is actually kind of nice" you look around the glistening chandeliers and observe the clamoring people

A servant smiles at you, seemingly ignoring your vigilante costume "Would you like a lotus flower? They're complementary"

It won't hurt you to take one right?

So you did.

"hey.. um where's the way out?" You ask

The smile on the servant's face doesn't drop "Miss it's so late out at night, you should return to your room"

"but I don't have a room-" you feel a key card in your pocket, you did have a room

So you go there, you enter the gigantic room, it was like for royalty, the sheets were so silky, the pillows were so soft, you opened the cabinet to find a set of clothes

Your suit is beginning to feel itchy anyways, you take a shower and put on the clothes, you find on the night stand a platinum card

What were you here for again?

You get out of the room, you hear people laughing

"you should go down there young lady! There is a pageant! There is this beautiful maiden, more beautiful compared to the others!" A man says, he was wearing clothing so old fashioned you'd thought he was from the regency era

Well, a pageant sounds fun!

In the hotel ballroom people were staring... Not at the contestants, well, yes the contestants, but one, one special lady

"Good evening LA!" She laughs

How captivating... , you think

She turns and sees you, she stops smiling "(Name)? What? What are you doing here?"

Did she just call you?

Oh gosh she just said your name!

"you're not supposed to be here!" She floats, yup floats and you're shocked, she grabs your hand and she walks you to the entrance of the hotel, the servants who were eager to help everyone was avoiding her gaze and now staying far from you

At the entrance she gestures you get out of the hotel, so you did

A bunch of guys approach you, you don't know who they are

A few minutes pass by

"guys what happened to the mission?" You ask

______________________________

Annabeth: why didn't you know the hotel was magic?

You: idk maybe because in the book it was an island?!

______________________________

@yunloyal @sirenetheblogger @00hellohello00 @spqce-bun @casspen-starlight @eyeless-kun @ghostdoodlen @ratchetprime211 @delias-stuff @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7 @wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @chinxinsomnia @nathaly36 @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @ceramic-raven @sweetconnoisseurgardener @dhanyasri @bella-wolf100 @shortnsweetsposts @roseapov @d3sperate-enuf @d3kstar

[itsloriel]

Costumes of the Greek Revolution (1821), original costumes from the National Historical Museum of Greece, an exhibition called "Raiment of the Soul" by photographer Vangelis Kyris.

via AskBalkans

[stay-young-look-young-blog]

Traditional Greek costumes, exhibited in the National Historical Museum of Greece.

[operafantomet]

The Romanian / Norwegian / Greek / Middle East + European Tour version is really starting to hit many countries and cities now. Along with some photos of the current cast (from the respective webpages I have linked to underneath), here's a complete overview to where it has played so far, and where it will play in 2024-2025 (*):

JAN 2015: Teatrul National de Opereta, Budapest, ROMANIA. This was the prototype, directed by Stephen Barlow and designed by Andrew Riley. Leading trio was Adrian Nour, Irina Ioana Baiant and Florian Ristei, and it was performed in Romanian.

SEPT 2018 - MARCH 2019: Folketeateret, Oslo, NORWAY. This was a much updated version of the original Romanian production, with new costumes, and revamped sets and effects. Leading trio was Espen Grjotheim, Mira Ormala / Astrid Giske and Carl Lindquist, and it was performed in Norwegian.

JAN - MAR 2020: Thessaloniki Concert Hall and Christmas Theatre in Athens, GREECE. This was pretty much the Oslo production, but with some changes for tourability. From Greece on it has only been performed in English, regardless of the location. The original leading trio in Greece was Ben Forster, Celinde Schoenmaker / Amy Manford and Nadim Naaman. The production closed earlier than announced due to Covid.

FEB - MARCH 2023: Christmas Theatre in Athens and Thessaloniki Concert Hall, GREECE. Back in Greece, still in English, still an international cast, even more set and costume changes. This time the leading trio was Tim Howar, Harriet Jones / Georgia Wilkinson and Nadim Naaman.

OCT - DEC 2023: The Arena, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Continuing most of what was the case in Greece, except Nadim Naaman took over the role of the Phantom from Tim Howar, and Dougie Carter took over as Raoul. Was now dubbed "The Middle East Tour". It was the first time a full-scale production of Phantom of the Opera was done in Saudi Arabia.

FEB - MARCH 2024: Dubai Opera, Dubai. Same cast and overall set-up as Riyadh. This production followed in the footsteps of the World Tour (original version), visiting Dubai in 2019.

APRIL 2024: National Palace of Culture, Sofia, BULGARIA. Same cast and overall set-up as Riyadh and Dubai. This was, I think, the first time a city has housed two different non-replica productions. Not at the same time, mind you, as this version touring has meant the local productions are now allowed to perform for some time. This was at least what was announced from the producers in Bulgaria, Serbia and the Czech Republic. Curious.

AUG - SEPT. 2024: National Palace of Culture, Sofia, BULGARIA. The production has announced its return to Sofia this autumn. This due to the sold-out initial run.

OCT 2024: Sagros Campo Pequeno, Lisbon, PORTUGAL. The production has announced a run there from October 15-27, 2024. A concert version has previously been performed in Portugal, but it will be the first time a full-scale production is done.

NOV - DEC 2024: Musical Theater Basel, Switzerland. The production has announced a run there from Nov. 6 to Dec 22, 2024. The original Swiss production 1995-1997 did a hardcore thing of perfoming in both German and English. It will therefore not be the first time POTO is performed there, nor the first time it is performed in English. But it is the first time this exact version visits, and the 1995-1997 one was the original version.

FEB - MARCH 2025: Stadsschouwburg, Antwerp, Belgium. The production has announced a run there from Feb. 6 to March 7, 2025. The original Belgian production ran from 1999-2000, and was performed in the local language, but it will be the first time it is performed in English. It will as such also be the 10th anniversary for this specific touring version, as it premiered in Romania in January 2015.

MARCH 2025: Kongresove Centrum, Prague, Czech Republic. The production has announced a run there from March 19-27, 2025. This means the local production 'Fantom Opery' at Goja Music Hall has been paused. According to the official website the Phantom will be Nadim Naaman, the role of Christine will be shared between Georgia Wilkinson and Bridget Costello, and Raoul will be Dougie Carter.

(*) More dates will likely follow. Kuwait was announced some time back, but cannot be found anywhere now. Also, the local Serbian production announced a break because another version was visiting, so I won't be surprised if Belgrade is added to the list later on.

[jack-kellys]

k so yall voted to see my 2023 final essay for a class called london in performance. which wasnt too serious. basically i compared the national theatre's phaedra [which i did not like that much tbh. one of the lines in my paper is "to truly send the criticism home, compared to the white critics who praised the play with four stars, Polish editor Andrzej Lukowski and Pakistani critic Arifa Akbar are the ones to only give two stars on the story that centers an illegal immigrant (The Stage)." just saying] as an adaptation of a classic greek play to the west end's general cash-in commercialization. and then my argument was that the center of that pendulum is somehow fucking newsies @ the troub im so sorry.

HERE ARE THE HIGHLIGHTS:

first of all i got to cite myself as like. an expert which was SO funny

"To preface, because of my five years of close knowledge about this subject matter, its multiple stagings, scripts, and casts, I am well aware that this musical as a whole is quite average."

importantly, my definition of a revival in this paper is "creating something accessible to a modern audience for the sake of improving and adapting an original source material into a performance". if it doesnt improve and/or adapt it then it fails imo

"Lines [in the script] that hold weight are sort of dropped, in favor of keeping the show hopeful at all times. The reflection lies in the younger generation taking hold of a new age, rather than in workers rights, child poverty and abuse, and unification.  Newsies at Wembley Park, the first professional revival and first iteration of the musical outside of the United States, flips this as a performance."

i called newsies 2012/livesies staging "left-right up-down" like a video game combo lmfao

"Wembley Park’s revival inserts viewers into the action of the city by default, but also the events that befall the newsboys.... Two police officers stalk in front of the audience as a scene with a new sense of impending doom plays out on the stage. The strikebreaking battle is... level with many of the audience’s seats, and boys escape officers and grown men through the aisles helping each other stand upright while shouts of “Move, move!” are called out .... as a pair hurry away up a ladder behind my aisle seat."

"The expansive take on staging (since as I said before, the musical itself is average) almost takes the place of design. ... Pulitzer’s desk resides on top of a platform of newspaper stacks, emphasizing his position in the hierarchy over the children selling those papers especially as the newsboys push it on with much effort. The towers are made to look like black metal with rust and peels. The lighting is white and natural during scenes. The ensemble’s costumes look more similar to each other, making them appear more unified visually compared to Broadway. The design is in the ensemble’s interactions, dance, and fluid movement through the city of the show, letting the performance and the dancers speak for themselves."

then mandatory michael section:

"What struck me the most watching it had to be Jack’s casting, and new character positionality within the context of the story. Never before has Jack Kelly been a Black newsboy union leader, not in any professional production. Played by Michael Ahomka-Lindsay, Jack’s role was much more electric. His fear of leading the strike became more personal, his baggage with the reform center gained more onstage intersectionality, his relationship with Katherine became even more complex and out of reach. It changes many of those past dropped lines, it made me hear lines differently than I had used to. It’s a more effective reflection that makes the events in the story a bit more tangible to an audience that could have initially been caught up in the grandiose dance numbers- not to mention the performance opening amidst strikes nationwide."

best part:

jack-kellys. "Welcome to..." Jack-Kellys, 23 Jan 2023, 3:46AM, this-is-what-i-mean-by-five-years-of-close-experience. 

[icantfindmireyaaaa]

👻 ¡ ʰᗩˡˡᵒʷ𝔢є𝐍 έν𝔢𝐧t! 🎃

☠ᎢᎡᏆᏟᏦ OᎡ ᎢᎡᎬᎪᎢ 🧟‍♀️

🏛intro post🎃

《rules # ☆》

💀nothing much!!! but please be patient cuz I wont always be online and happy halloween guys!!

# radio star 📻 ~ ¡I'll assign you a song based off your aesthetic!

# chewed bubblegum 🍭 ~ `I'll give you a candy based off your personality`

# pumpkin spice 🎃 ~ |I'll assign you a character from one of my fandoms<3|

# smile for the picture 📷 ~ •I'll make you a mood board of your choice!•

# lovely eyes 💋 ~ *I'll assign you a colour!!!*

for moots only #

# ancient ruins 🏛 ~ ×I'll assign you a greek myth×

# once upon a time 🧚‍♀️ ~ ^I'll assign you a mythical creature^

# dress up 💫 ~ [ I'll give you a Halloween costume!! ]

# movie star 🎬 ~ 'I'll assign you a horror movie<3'

deadline: november 6th

Listing all my moots :3

@palladiumfragments

@emdabitchass

@biggestqiblifan

@witchwritingfanfics

@daonedaonlyskh

@fluffycows4life

@permetutotheworld

@sleeplessfluid

@the-thing-in-the-dark

@your-gay-emo-cousin

@erklen11

@pillowfluf

@wishing-on-a-snowflake

@justagray

@definitionoffuckup

@k-is-for-potassium

@sun13koi

@monarch-of-weird-girlboy-nation

@unhinged-as-hell

[romanovsonelastdance]

Do you have any postcards of Olga Konstantinovna in national Greek costume?

Just one! And it's actually a CDV (carte de visite) which are smaller than postcards, more like the size of a baseball card or credit card.

[is-the-19thcentury-man-okay]

I was very pleased with my English 1820s man. I made sure he had enrichment of a scholarly nature, to balance out the Romantic tendencies they have. He took to studying classical history and language, and I confess I was proud to have such an intelligent 19th century man. More recently he took an interest in current affairs but, as he is quite young, I assumed this was a sign of maturing. Then, just like that, he ran away! I went out searching and a neighbour informed me that he'd gone to Greece to fight against the Ottomans! I was horrified and went straight there, but I found him with a pack of Greek 1820s men and he adamantly refused to come home. What should I do? I worry that he will get hurt fighting, or that his constitution will not survive rough living in the Greek mountains. But he's having such a good time. He is learning the modern iteration of Greek (such a clever man), enjoys the local cuisine, and even wants to dress like his new friends. Is he in great danger if I let him stay, and how could I take him home without breaking his heart? (I don't want to risk any of those Greek 1820s men getting angry either, if I take their lucky mascot away.) Many thanks for your advice!

Romanticism and nationalism make for a very potent combination, as you have learned by now, and for many 19th century men of a certain social class and level of education, the attraction of the Classical world adds another layer of mythical folklore; not to mention the allure of pagan ceremony and skimpy neoclassical clothes.

For 1820s-1830s men, the Byronic appeal of exotic "Eastern" nations can be irresistible, and in general you will find a lot of national myth-making and interest in folk costumes.

Lord Byron in Albanian dress, 1813. This man is not Albanian!

You also have to be aware of your 19th century man's possibly very different ideas of national and imperial boundaries. He learns the polka in Bohemia, he wants to fight the Ottomans, he wants to fight in the Miguelite war—he might support Romantic German nationalism! It's not always the national and cultural understandings of the 21st century.

Being British is also not a guarantee of sensible behaviour. You might think that your British naval officer is going to rest on his laurels after the Napoleonic Wars, and the next thing you know, he's leading a fleet in the Chilean Independence movement!

Thomas Cochrane, naval officer for hire.

19th century men are not for the faint of heart. It can be challenging to balance their Romantic desires with a sensible course of action. Since your man has already spent so much time with his new Greek friends and has embraced their lifestyle, you could suggest that it's important that he document his experiences in a travel narrative that will also champion their cause.

As much as possible, you want to convince him that he's very valuable as a writer and/or visual artist giving voice to a cause—too valuable to foolishly risk his life or ruin his health abroad.

[galleryofart]

The Cupid Seller

Artist: Joseph-Marie Vien (French, 1716–1809)

Date: 1763

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Musée National du Château de Fontainebleau

Description

This painting by Joseph Marie Vien (1716-1809) was painted in 1763 and given as a gift to to the Countess du Barry in 1788, the last and sulphurous mistress of Louis XV, who hung it in her castle at Louveciennes.. It was confiscated during the Revolution and sent to Fontainebleau in 1837 to adorn the walls of the antechamber in the apartment of the Duchess of Orléans, daughter-in-law to King Louis-Philippe. The painting was admired by many at the Salons, notably by Diderot. In the the history of painting it has become a kind of manifesto for neoclassicism. The subject is inspired by an ancient Roman painting discovered in 1759 in Gragnano near Naples, which was popularised in engraving as early as 1762.

Numerous details give the work the “Greek touch” that was a la mode in the arts at that time. The rocky boulders are followed by friezes of triglyphs and metopes, fluted pilaster columns and the antique style of headdresses and costumes skilfully draped and worn by the young women in this painting. However, the graceful faces with powdery complexions, the delicate jewellery box, the smooth gestures and the detail of the rose on the table give this scene a boudoir atmosphere, not unlike the rococo theme of the fashion merchant.

[talas-first-lady]

Zari Tarazi Fashion Tournament: Finals!

All right, Z nation, we're down to just 2 remaining looks.

From episode 5x12, Freaks & Greeks. Zari's yellow look knocked out two of my absolute favorite dresses, but I can't hold a grudge against something so cute.

From episodes 5x15, 6x01, and 6x07 (plus 4x03, where it appeared on the other Zari). Punk Zari has consistently gotten some of the highest vote totals throughout the tournament.

Who takes the crown?

[shiny-coin-collector]

This Post Is All Ooc!!

Heyy!!

This is a Rp account for my oc from redacted audio named Corbin!!

This may die quickly idk yet!! (Hopefully not I love this oc-)

Pfp by: Me!!

Tags that will be used (hopefully!!)

Acting Corbin <- (Corbin obvi)

Ooc <- just me sorry

Corbins moots <- my moots!!

Corbins asks <- asks by yall

Corbins anon asks <- asks by yall but anonymously (ooh so spookyyyy)

Simp Corbin <- Corbin simping for random characters/people

Corbin Loves His Autistic Coded Boyfriend <- simping for someone (usually for Their Boyfriend, Fenrir/Fenn, sorry yall!)

(Fenrir’s/Fenn’s account is @theotherdamnincubus which is run by @astrodude-87 !!!)

Info Of Corbin Below Cut!!

^

Mood board/icon!!

(Making Art for him soon!!)

Raven Shifter!! (Duh-)

Prns: He/Him

Fav Color: Purple/Red (Red reminds him of Felix)

Sexuality: Omni With A Preference For Masc People!!

Taken/Single?: Taken by Fenrir Who Is A Incubus!!

(Fenrir’s name was updated!! Used to be Felix!!)

Looks: He looks stoned most the time (no one knows why, not even himself), his fingers are black on the end and have “talons” of sorts (did this because I thought it was silly-), little taller than 6’2/6’3, Greek Nose border line Roman tbh, darker aesthetic, purples/blacks/dark reds are all colors he wears, he dyes his hair black and red to match Felix’s hair, Eyeliner is a must for his day to day for some reason

Nationality: he is a Slavic / Greek man!! (Most of his family is Slavic since he’s from there but his grandma + her entire family that isn’t her husband and kids is from Greece!!)

He Attends D.A.M.N For a Shifters Certificate!!

His favorite class is: Shifting (obvi), and Fire Elemental

Least Favorite: Air Elemental (Abusive Dad Is A Air Elemental- likes Lasko though “he’s a cool dude, don’t know him well though”)

Interests: Felix (He will randomly get very nosy about random shit and ask 1000s of questions), Baking, Art, Designing Things, Crafts, Costume Props, Making Masks, Musical Theater

Erm- If I Can Think Of More Stuff I’ll tell yall!!

[yunamedkostobot]

Jacegan Week 2024: Day Six. Historical

1910-1920s silent cinema AU

 TW: period-typical racism and homophobia, “Birth of the nation’s” cinema success,  implied radium poisoning, mentioned Red Scare

In this au, Jace and his brothers(and a little sister Visenya) actually grew up in the whole-acting family. Their mother, whose family got poor after losing all of their money during the Long depression, started her vaudeville acting career and became the family's breadwinner from the tender age of eight and rose up to the second highest paying actress(after Lotta Crabtree). Their father is a famous musician coming from a wealthy family, their paternal grandmother is a former actress by herself and their aunt is the costume maker for the theaters. They are not really in touch with their maternal side of the family, since they did not approve of their mother's acting career.

Meanwhile, Cregan comes from the farmer’s family of Norwegian second-geheration immigrabts. His family went bankrupt in the panic of 1907, so he and his sister were left with almost no money. Cregan was forced to turn to seasonal worker, while Sara started to work at the clock fabric.

Cregan met Arra Norrey at the mill at Lawrence. They married and later had a baby Rickon together. However, since Arra was forced to work even when she was ill and pregnant, she died of influenza not so long after Rickon’s birth. It happened not so long before the Lawrence strike of 1912, where Cregan actually took a huge part: from helping to evacuate the kids to standing up against the strikebreakers.

Cregan and Arra actually loved to go to cinema to watch movies(and Arra especially loved Max Linder’s and Roscoe Arbuckle’s comedies), but after the strike is won, Cregan feels some type of rage against the cinema that it does not depict the life in its full nightmare and even the social films mostly concentrate on such things as imprisonment and abortion(he understands it’s significant though) and the films about the labor focus more on the redemptions of masters which is not the part of workers ordinary lives. He decides that no matter what, he will wear his IWW red card proudly.

He is lucky though and after the long season of season work he, with Sara’s help he gets a clerk job at one of the “ Radium Luminous Material Corporation” offices in New York. In his spare time, he writes scenarios for different studios and walks a lot with Rickon.

Meanwhile, Jacaerys is living his best life: he lives with his mother, father, four brothers, cousins and little sister, they all star in the feature films at their director-grandfather’s studio with his family, and now is set to marry his cousin Baela, who is an actress too(since it is a pre-Code times, she legally still can play any role). Her sister Rhaena, meanwhile, helps her mom as costumer.

Meanwhile, Corlys gets the news about his rivals in a Biograph(corporate spies, you know) that D.W.Griffith has left them, founded his own company and now is adapting “The Clansman” by Dixon. No need to say both he and Rhaenys are infuriated by it. They decide to start to make a counter-move and make another period drama movie to beat it(they’ll fall in beating in the box-office, but a good movie will be made).

Sadly, they did not find a good scenario for a long time. Come the winter of 1914, and only there they found the scenario written by Cregan: which tells the early life of Samuel Gridley Howe, the famous abolitionist, friend of John Brown and the founder of the Perkins’s Institute for the disabled. More precisely, it tells about his participation in the Greek Revolution and arrest in Poland.

They buy the scenario from Cregan, and Corlys, seeing that this young man has the potential of a good scenarist, gives him a two-year contract. Cregan agrees and starts to refine the scenario alongside Rhaenys. 

Both young men meet each other at the stairs, when Jace and Baela accidentally stumble on Cregan, who is going out of Rhaenys’s room with a lot of paper in his arms, cause Rhaenys has a tendency to write every scene in detail.

They cross their ways simultaneously. They see each other on the set, when Cregan sometimes approaches cameraman Elmo Tully while Jace and his screen partner are waiting for them — the partner is an actor who played young Greek Howe meets in his travels. Daemon, who is playing the older lead, does not even attempt to hide total disinterest.

They cross their path at the costume shop, when Jace sees his cousin Rhaena disciss costumes with Cregan, and his voice with norwegian accent strikes something in him does not understands.

They cross the way during the lunch break, when Jace with his stuntman and younger brother Luke are discussing something funny, and Cregan suddenly thinks how it may look like on the screen and attempts not to listen to them, but to read on their lips, but it fails miserably, since he stares on someone else’s faith without even noticing. 

Their first conversation happens when Cregan sees Jace dragging ten books about Howe Rhaenys asked about and another five illustrated books about clothes of this time for Rhaena. They talk a lot about their favorite books and Cregan mentioned he would love to read «Martin Iden» by Jack London, but he does not have a strength to go to the library after the whole work day and spending time with his son. Jace is surprised by learning that their new scenarist has the son and urges him to bring the boy to the work.

Next day Cregan finds the book he asked nearby the set.

Baby Rickon absolutely loves the studio, especially playing hide-and-seek with kid Aegon, Viserys and Visenya. Sometimes, Luke and Rhaena playfully join them. Even lesser times, Laena coo over new boy and secretly give them a lot of sweets to both Cregan and Rhaenyra’s chargrin.

During the filming and writing there are not so many incindents that may cause anybody harm. However, one day the decoration falls on the set, when Luke is making the stunts, and it takes both Jace's and Cregan's fast reactions to drag him from the dangerous zone. After this, they merely look at each other and start to laugh — to everybody's confusement.

At this moment, they are just happy men, and oh gods, they are sure that the film they are making will be great.

(It would not be great, but good nontheless. Like many films they will do after it, but this time will be remmebered as the happiest one).

(Neither Jace, nor Cregan doesn't know know, where we'll ther relationship go, and how many moments, both good and bad, they will share together. There would be a twelve movies(most of them a hystoricals, one based on personal tragedy and one of them a mix of socialist propaganda and action), temporarily break-up, not really happy marriages to women(similiar to their partners, but not actually them), arrests during the Red Scare, Luke's injury and his marriage to Rhaena, adaptation of «Martin Iden» they made together, Cregan's sister being Radium Girl, scandal based on rumours overblown by Hedda Hopper, serving as historical consultants, the world travel, La Olimpiada Popular and death — one at Madrid, and another at Jarama. So many things).

But now, at this moment, they are happy.

[art-portraits]

Saskia van Uylenburgh in Arcadian Costume

Artist: Rembrandt (Dutch, 1606-1669) golden age

Style: Baroque

Date: 1635

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: The National Gallery, London, United Kingdom

Description

Saskia van Uylenburgh, the daughter of a burgomaster of Leeuwarden in Friesland, was 23 years old and had been married to Rembrandt for a year when he painted her portrait. She is in Arcadian costume (in other words, dressed as a shepherdess, though a very grand little shepherdess).

She has gold embroidery on her wide belt and on the brocade edge to her spring-green over-gown. Her sumptuous dress bells out over her cream satin petticoats and the light, almost transparent sleeves fall at her sides in gauzy folds. The low wide neck pushes up her breasts, edging them with delicate lace. Her long red hair waves down to brush her shoulders, and glowing pearls hang from her ears and peep over the crown of her head. The necklace of tiny wild flowers is echoed around her brow and a sprig of juniper sways over her head.

Her costume is not of the seventeenth century, nor of Roman times: it’s a dressing-up version of Renaissance dress, something that Rembrandt liked to use for intimate portraits and the big biblical scenes he aspired to paint, regardless of when they were actually thought to have taken place. They added drama or poetic meaning to the picture.

The painting is sometimes referred to as ‘Saskia as Flora’, the Roman goddess of spring and fertility, a title much more in keeping with her costume and with the profusion of flowers that she holds, primulas, tulips, roses and tiny pinks among them. In the other hand is her shepherdess’s stick, entwined with delicate green leaves. At the time, such classical representations – the Seasons, Greek or Roman gods and goddesses or more abstract figures such as Justice, Mercy, Envy – were popular in all the arts. Poets, writers and composers all looked back at the ancient world for inspiration.

But it’s possible that there’s another dimension to this portrait. Saskia grasps the stick firmly as if for support, rather than just as a decorative prop. The hand clutching the flowers is stiff and tense from the weight and unwieldiness of the bouquet. She appears to lean back slightly, as if easing discomfort, carrying unaccustomed weight. Suspended across her gown just below the waist, a little chain draws attention to her belly. Her expression is difficult to decipher. Her large blue eyes gaze not at us, but a little over to the right to someone standing near – the artist perhaps. Her oval face with soft cheeks is enlivened by a little half-smile. We can‘t discount the possibility that when Saskia stood as the model for this painting she was visibly pregnant, and that Rembrandt has portrayed her as such.

During the seven years of their marriage, Saskia had three children who died very young. Only the fourth child, Titus, survived into adulthood. Titus was born in 1641. Saskia died a year later and Titus in 1668, a year before his father. So for Rembrandt, although the promise of abundant life was fulfilled for a while, it didn’t endure – except in his portrait of Saskia as Flora, goddess of spring.

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington - Chapter 3

fireman!Steve Harrington x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ SMUT, ANGST, Steve knocks a guy's lights out, ok? ok.

a/n | It's halloween, Steve's least favorite holiday. But the spookiest thing here are his serious abandonment issues :/

Steve hates Halloween. Crowds mulling about on the sidewalks, little kids screaming for no good reason, and usually a significant uptick in calls to the station due to people’s booze-heavy parties. It’s the one thing he asked for from the chief, to have Halloween off every year so he could go into hiding for those twenty-four hours of national stupidity. 

This year is proving to be different. While he does have the day off from the station, his girl has asked him to come with her to a Halloween party. When he had told her there was no chance in hell he’d go out on Halloween, she just shrugged, said fine, that she’d go by herself. Steve wasn’t about to let that fly. 

That’s why he currently finds himself waiting outside her dorm in the quick-cooling October night. She had told him to wear a costume, which he balked at. But he did put in some effort, putting on his worn leather jacket from his army days, letting his dog tags hang out over a white t-shirt, aviators on his face. Top Gun was still cool, right?

His worries about his own outfit fly out the window when she finally comes out though. He finds himself speechless, taking in her attire. She’s wearing a very tight and very short black dress. Too short, too tight he thinks to himself. There’s yellow and gray stripes in some parts, and Steve realizes it’s the same kind of stripes that are on his own uniform. And then he sees she’s got a little plastic fireman’s hat on her head. Mother of god. He swallows thickly, finally meeting her eyes.

“Hi, Stevie.” “You’re not going out in that.”  She scoffs at him, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that makes her cleavage even more unbearable.

“Steve, don’t do this. I thought you’d like my costume. I wore it for you.” Steve scrubs a hand down his face.

“I do like it, doll. But I’m pretty sure every other guy on this campus is gonna like it too.” She steps forward, bringing her palms to rub up and down his chest.

“Listen, don’t worry about every other guy, yeah? I just wanna have a good night with you.” He knows there’s no use arguing with her, she might even be more stubborn than he is, so he just sighs. He offers her a crook of a smile before tipping her hat up with his finger.

“Alright, alright. Lead the way, chief.” She grins, taking his hand and tugging him along to wherever this godforsaken party is.

Steve’s stomach drops when he sees the greek letters over the front door of the house. A fucking frat party? She tugs on his hand, looking back at where he seems to be stuck in place.

“Baby, we’re just gonna have some fun, ok? And then we can leave, whenever you want to.”

“Can we leave now?”

“Steve.” he acquiesces to her, letting her pull him into the house. 

Steve is immediately reminded why he hates Halloween.

It’s a sea of scantily clad bodies bumping into each other to the beat of an ingratiating song. He feels like he can practically chew the air it’s so humid and murky inside, a mix of sweat and booze assaulting his senses. The only thing keeping him from completely losing it is her hand still firmly holding onto his as she leads him through the crowd towards the kitchen at the back of the house.

She lets go of his hand to hug a few of her friends and he hates how much he wishes she hadn’t let go of him. He tries to act somewhat pleasant as she introduces him to her friends, trying to make his grimace look more like a smile. Truthfully, he can barely hear a word anyone is saying, the music coupled with his already damaged hearing making everything sound muffled. He just smiles and nods. 

They settle into a corner in the kitchen, he slots behind her, hands around her waist while she talks with her friends. He’s quick to throw back a few swigs of some non-descript liquor that’s littering the countertop, letting things mellow out just a bit in his mind as his throat burns with the gulps. The alcohol lets him slip away from it all, only anchored by the feeling of his hands on her hips. He’s pulled back to the present moment when she turns in his grasp, he leans down to let her speak into his ear.

“We’re gonna go dance, baby. Will you come dance with me?” He huffs.

“No, doll. You go dance. I’ll watch, yeah?” She frowns just slightly before leaving him with a chaste peck, turning and following her friends into the living room. Steve fills a red solo cup with something dark before shuffling after her, leaning up against a wall and watching her move into the crowd.

“Hey, man. That’s a sick jacket. Is it thrifted?” Steve’s attention is turned to a guy who’s fingering the American flag patch on his shoulder. He shrugs his hand off.

“Sorry, what?”

“Your jacket, bro. Is it vintage?” 

“Uh, no. It’s mine.” Steve can’t believe this guy, he’s only five years older than most of the people here for christ’s sake.

“Well, it’s real cool, man. Where’d you get a jacket like that?”

“The army.” The guy laughs. Steve’s losing his patience.

“No shit. Really? You in the army, bro?” Steve just nods, glancing away, trying to find her in the crowd.

His eyes finally land on her and his heart kicks up when he sees that she’s been cornered by some punk in a cowboy hat. He tries to keep his cool as he starts shoving through the crowd, but when he sees cowboy hat put his hand on her waist he goes livid. He turns the guy around by his shoulder and when he speaks it comes out in a loud bark that can definitely be heard over the music.

“Hey! Why don’t you keep your fucking hands to yourself, kid.” Cowboy hat scoffs.

“Why don’t you mind your own business, man. Just trying to take a pretty lady home for the night, is that such a crime?” Steve snaps, and before his brain can catch up, he’s tackling cowboy hat to the ground. A crowd has formed around the pair as they struggle against each other, but Steve gets the upper hand, landing several, crunching blows to the man’s face. He gives him one more jostle by the collar of his shirt before he stands, spitting blood out of the side of his mouth. 

The ringing in his ears finally dies down and he realizes that the music has stopped. Everyone has stopped to watch what just happened. He finally finds her eyes in the crowd and his stomach twists. Her jaw is slack and her eyes are wide. She looks shocked. Even worse, she looks scared. Steve feels like he’s going to throw up, seeing her look at him like that. He does the only thing he can think to do, shoving his way out of the crowd and out the front door, starting to walk off down the street in a bit of a haze.

He hears her calling his name but he doesn’t turn around, just keeps walking.

“Jesus christ, Steve. Will you stop? Or at least slow down? I’m in fucking heels.” He sighs, stopping in his tracks before turning around, keeping his eyes on his sneakers. She walks up to him, dipping to catch his gaze.

“You’re bleeding, baby. Will you come with me, please? Get you cleaned up?” 

“Why’d you follow me out?” She looks taken aback by his question.

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?” Steve scoffs.

“I saw the way you were looking at me. Thought you finally figured out that I’m no good for you.” She sighs, tilting his chin with her knuckles to get him to finally look at her.

“Steve, I’m a big girl who can determine all on my own what is or isn’t good for me, ok? Now will you please come with me so we can get you taken care of?” Steve nods mutely, once again letting her lead the way, this time back to her dorm.

…

He’s never been in her room before. She has a single because she’s an RA, neat, if not a bit sparse. He sees the grad school pamphlets on her desk and something in him twists at the reality that she’ll most likely be moving away in just a few months. Onto much better things, he supposes. He stands in the doorway, watching as she slips off her heels in turn for a pair of flip flops before sliding a first aid kit out from under her bed. He quirks an eyebrow at her, but she just shrugs.

“Comes with the territory of looking after a bunch of college freshmen. Now let’s go get you fixed up, baby.”

She leads him to the floor’s bathroom and mercifully, it’s empty, everyone else still out getting sloshed. She motions for him to hop up on the counter, stepping between his legs and taking his chin in her hand to inspect his face. She hums.

“Just a cut lip and the start of a black eye. Didn’t realize Matthew got in any swings at you.” Steve grumbles.

“Don’t wanna talk about fucking Matthew.” She huffs at that, but continues her ministrations, dabbing at his lip and split knuckles with alcohol wipes. Her words come out as a murmur as she bandages his knuckles.

“Steve, I’m sorry I made you come out with me tonight. You told me you didn’t want to go and I pushed and I shouldn’t have.” He goes to speak but she shoots him a look that tells him to keep quiet. 

“But, this can’t keep happening. You promised me you’d work on this shit. I get that it’s hard for you, but it’s never gonna get better if you don’t try. Did you look into that VA psych center I told you about? They offer counseling that’d be practically free for you.” Steve grumbles.

“I don’t need some fucking shrink digging around in my head. Just gotta– I don’t know, try harder to not be so fucking stupid.” She squeezes his thighs.

“Hey. You’re not stupid, Steve. You’re a human who’s–”

“Doing his best. Yeah, yeah, miss therapy. Obviously not doing good enough for you though.” He regrets it the minute it leaves his mouth, sees the way her face falls at his words. She clears her throat.

“I’m just trying to help you, Steve. Fuck– I care about you, a lot.” She turns on her heel, bringing her hand to her forehead, Steve watches an exhale slacken her shoulders.

He slides off the counter, shuffling up behind her until his chest is pressed to her back, slipping his palms to splay across her stomach. She jumps at first, but settles into his grasp. She always does.

He rests his chin on her shoulder and sways them a bit side to side. She sighs, eyes closed.

“M’sorry, doll. I didn’t mean it. You know that, huh?” She brings her palms to slide along his forearms before twining their hands together.

“You never mean it, Stevie. But sometimes you can be so mean. I just wanna help you.” 

“I know, baby. You’re so good to me. So good for me. Don’t fucking deserve you. Tell you what, first thing Monday, I’ll call that VA center, ok? I promise.” He lands a kiss to her temple before burying his face in her neck. She hums at his words.

“But I think you like when I’m a little mean, don’t you?” He can’t help the sly grin that slides across his face and into her shoulder. He feels her shiver in his grasp.

“Uh-huh. Tell me, pretty, who’d you get all dressed up for tonight, hm?” He untangles their hands, letting his palms slide down her thighs before roughly catching the hem of her dress and rucking it up to her waist. She gasps, stumbling forward a bit and steadying herself by pressing her palms against the tiled wall. Steve keeps his hands on her waist, sliding them down to catch the band of her little black thong to snap it against the plush of her hip.

“You, Steve. It’s all for you.” He kicks her feet apart, spreading her wider for him as he kneels behind her, dragging her panties down with him. She goes to turn around but he lands a harsh smack to her ass, making her lurch forward again.

“You’re perfect just like this, pretty. Stay just like that. Daddy wants a taste.” Before she can protest he’s diving in, licking a salacious stripe through her folds. She whines as he gets to work, and Steve thinks for a flickering moment that he’s found one other thing he’s great at. Making his girl fall apart. He fucks her with his tongue and she reaches a hand back to grip onto his hair, grinding her hips onto his mouth. 

“That’s it, baby. Want one from you just like this. Want you to come on my tongue, can you do that for me?” She lets out a long sigh.

“Y-yes, daddy. Fuck– just don’t stop, please.” He lands a sharp smack to her ass before dipping back into her cunt.

Steve knows all her tells by now, the way her breath starts to catch, the little whimpers, the shake in her thighs. She lets out a broken cry when she comes, fingers digging into his hair, he groans under the pressure. Her head dips down, forehead resting against the tile. Steve slowly stands, keeping a firm hold of her waist when her knees start to buckle.

“I got you, baby. I got you. Did so good for me.” She lets out a long whine of his name and it makes his cock twitch in his jeans. 

He holds her steady, palm splayed along her stomach, pressing her back into him as he grinds into her ass. 

“S-Steve– someone might see– fuck!” He rolls his hips particularly hard into her.

“Is that right, doll? Well, they’d just see what a good little slut you are for me, yeah?” She whimpers when his teeth graze along her neck. He unbuckles his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing cock, smearing pre-cum across her ass.

“You want me, right, baby? Tell daddy what you want.” She jerks back into him when he slides his cock between her folds.

“Want you, daddy. Want you to fuck me, p-please. I–” Steve thrusts into her in one harsh arc of his hips and she lets out a broken gasp. He gives her no time to adjust, setting a brutal pace that’s drawing little whimpers out of her with each press of his hips. The adrenaline and alcohol from earlier is finally catching up to Steve, and he needs her desperately.

“Fuck, baby. Little pussy’s made for me. Taking me so well. Just take it, doll. Be a good girl and take it.” His fingers are digging into the swell of her hips as he presses his chest to her back, hovering over her hunched figure. He slides one hand down her front to toy harshly with her clit, practically drawing a sob from her. She’s a babbling mess underneath him, letting out curses and cries of his name. Steve cranes his neck to get a look at her face, seeing tears glittering down her cheeks.

“You crying on my cock, pretty? S’just that good, huh?” She lets out a chant of the word “yes” to his question, too far gone in the pleasure and pain of it all to say much else.

“Come for me. Right fucking now. Come all over my cock, pretty.” She cries out, breaking off into a gasp as she pulses around his dick and Steve groans at the feeling. Steve’s not far behind, pressing his forehead between her shoulder blades as he grinds his hips as hard into her as he can, coming so deep in her she shivers at the feeling. 

He presses a kiss to the nape of her neck, shushing her whimpers as he pulls out.

“Y’alright, doll?” She sighs, turning around and leaning back against the wall as she shimmies the skirt of her dress back down around her thighs.

“Yeah, um, where’s my underwear though?” Steve scans the tiled floor, finding them off to the side where he must have tossed them. When he grabs them for her, he realizes that he had ripped right through them. She raises her eyebrows at him when she sees their shredded state.

“Steve, I can’t believe you–”

“S’fine, pretty. I’ll buy you a new pair, huh?”

…

They shower together in the shitty dorm bathroom. She gives him back a t-shirt and pair of sweats of his that she had stolen from his place a while ago, coaxing him into staying for the night. They curl around each other in her tiny dorm room bed and she takes to carding her fingers through his still damp hair. Steve would never admit it out loud, but it’s quickly become his favorite feeling in the world, having her hands in his hair. 

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re gonna hold to your promise, right? Gonna call the VA center on Monday?” Steve sighs and nods. She could ask him to chop off his hand and he’d probably do it right now, he’s so faded out from the light scratching of her nails on his scalp.

“Yes, baby. M’gonna call them, I promise.” She seems to accept his answer, letting out a sigh of her own.

“You know, I really meant what I said. I care about you so much, Steve.” He lifts his head from her chest, looking up at her.

“I know you do, doll. Christ, it’s only been a few months but– I– you– I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her eyes soften as she brings her hand to stroke along the arch of his cheek. He feels like he’s going to melt.

“Oh, Steve. You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere, you’ve got me.” Steve presses a kiss to her sternum before settling back against her chest. She falls asleep before him, but he can’t seem to shake an incessant thought that plays on a loop in his mind. Not going anywhere, yet.

…

Steve wakes up early the next morning, trying to untangle himself from her without disturbing her sleeping form. She stirs next to him as he sits on the edge of her bed.

“Steve? It’s early, what’re you doing?” He brushes his palm down her bare arm before drawing it back up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Gotta go, pretty. My shift starts in half an hour.” She frowns slightly, sitting up and holding onto his hand.

“It’s two days, isn’t it?” He nods.

“That’s the price for having Halloween off every year.” They both sigh, taking in each other’s sleep-smudged figures.

“You’ll be careful, right?” He scoffs but she grips his thigh, giving him a squeeze that tells him she means business.

“Steve, please tell me you’ll be careful.” “Baby, I know what I’m doing. Besides, the likelihood of anything beyond a cat stuck in a tree or a faulty fire alarm in the next forty-eight hours is so low. I’ll probably just be sitting at the station for the next two days, watching grass grow.” Her frown deepens at his words and he surges forward to try to kiss it away. It doesn’t quite work.

“It just freaks me out sometimes. One day you’re with me and the next you’re on shift and I don’t know if it’s been a good or bad one until the next time I see you. And then I start worrying about if there’s gonna be a next time and—”

“Woah, woah. I’m a firefighter, pretty, not a fucking navy seal. Look, I’m gonna promise you two things. First, I promise that I’m gonna call that goddamn VA center on Monday.” This earns him a slight smile.

“And second, I promise you that as long as I can help it, there’s gonna be a next time, ok?” She huffs, not seeming totally convinced. Steve cups her face in both his palms.

“And, I guess I’ll be careful, for you.” He seals his words with a chaste kiss which she chases after, deepening in a way that makes his brain go fuzzy. He finally pulls away, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“I really gotta go, doll. I’ll see you soon.” She offers him a smile.

“Until next time, Steve.”