I actually didn’t care for Boba before the Book of Boba Fett show happened. I didn’t give a fuck about him other than how iconically girlpop baby his outfit was in the comics. That was an epic pastel babygirl outfit. But you know what made me love Boba? The reason why I’m borderline obsessed with him now? He’s just a hurt child who wanted his Buir, and he collects other broken people and makes them a home and has a hatred of the spice trade from his own father’s hatred of being a spice freighter slave. He loves children even when they’re absolutely little fuckers to him, and he wants to be accepted, and welcomed into a family.
His family is strong and angry and full of outcasts that the galaxy has abused and discarded. And he adores them all so much.
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okay so you know how it goes: fourteen comes to life in thirteen's clothes. and they're both too short and too loose and entirely too bright for his frame of mind. they worked with a doctor who hid everything behind a too wide smile; not so much with a doctor whose pain and tiredness is written across his face
he needs to change. obviously
and then the star beast starts, and fourteen leaves the tardis, and he's still in thirteen's clothes
he just. he doesn't know. how does he choose new clothes? he feels wrong. how will wearing something else change that?
(donna tells him that it's christmas, mate; it's bloody freezing. maybe wear longer trousers, yeah? also he's both too young and too old to wear braces. just a friendly note)
he doesn't have to explain who he is to the unit scientist, not with those clothes. instead he talks about how he doesn't understand why he looks like this. why he is this. why this face? why isn't he someone new?
actually. maybe he is someone new. was he ever this open before? hm
why do you look like that, sylvia hisses, trying to hide him from the daughter he destroyed ruined left
it's a lottery, he replies, purposely ignorant
he still has his thirteenth self's screwdriver. it's too small in his hands
(the whole time they were her, her hands were too small. she didn't like touching anyway, but whenever someone took her hand, it felt wrong. they were too small. sometimes it felt like if she worked fast enough, tinkered about without stopping, she wouldn't have to look at them)
everything goes wrong. his fault, like always
(blimey. of all the things to carry over from the first time he had this face, it had to be the guilt, didn't it?)
you shouldn't look like that, the doctordonna says, and he runs a hand down his face with a tired laugh
no, the doctordonna says, not the face. a hand reaches out to grasp at the collar of his shirt, at the dangling earring chain. this isn't you. who are you, doctor?
like he knows. like they've ever-
she dies.
she lives. he doesn't deserve it. it isn't about him. he still doesn't deserve it
we're letting it go, donna says, and he looks down at himself, at another him's clothes, another him's screwdriver
well, she never was subtle, his donna
the tardis is gorgeous, though when isn't she. he tries to show off his new console to donna, and she rolls her eyes, and drags him off to the wardrobe
unlike normally, where all the clothes are scattered about, the new tardis wardrobe now also has a line of wardrobes stood against the wall. fifteen of them, to be exact
the last wardrobe is open. and empty
he goes to the second to last, and opens it to reveal a wide array of rainbow patterned shirts. she probably would've hated for her things to be organised like this. always creating mess so she wouldn't have to think about anything important. he laughs. and he takes off the sky coloured coat and the worn boots and the earrings and gently places them inside. tag, he thinks, as he closes the doors
and then he moves down to the eleventh wardrobe, full of brown coats and blue suits and neatly pressed shirts and pairs of converse. and he stands in front of it. and he wonders
after a moment, donna's like wait do you want me to leave?? you never cared about nudity before, did you? and he's like oh actually i do feel more self conscious. huh. weird.
he doesn't have to say, i think i'm a different person. not to donna. she just gives him a smile, and a shoulder nudge, and tells him she'll see him in the console room
the last wardrobe is empty
he takes a breath, and then goes to rummage about in the rest of the clothes
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Mon Posting
Lol I didn’t abandon this blog
I LOVED the Mon costuming in Andor. I think they built off her OT outfit in a really nice and chic way. One of my complaints is the lack of interesting texture. LOOK at how cool these sleeves are.
Now I can complain about disney being cheap and not putting a lot of budget into costume design. In return we don’t get as detailed costumes. But that can be a future post.
Mon in Andor has incredible costumes. They are so elegant and crip. The thing I LOVE about andor is that the costumes look lived in and when they don’t look lived in that is the point. Mon’s wardrobe feels like a costume and that is the point. While other Star Wars shows don’t have this at all. Well in Mon’s case they are crisp and even. They are immaculate. Which makes her political facade even more interesting.
They took motifs from her original costumes and really refined them and expanded upon them. She has a consistent style and it’s really impressive since they didn’t have a lot to work with.
Eta Hentz 1944
Ezra 2017
Dior 2021
These are some of the Mon fits I have kicking around in my camera roll and inspo boards. I have so many more.
...
I finally posted this lol
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Some continued Warring States AU sketches of the layers of Kaname’s combat setup
The long coat is something she picked up from her mother’s clan.
Some more notes can be found in this older post. I have made some alterations to her armor since but the notes are still more or less much all relevant and accurate.
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