!!GUYS SOMEONE’S FOUND RARE PICTURES FROM THE SET OF MARY PICKFORD AND BUSTER KEATON’S LOST PICTURE!!
they’re actually my manips based on a great fanfic titled “Romeo and His Girl (1925)” by @busterandmary - it’s a fictional romance between Mary and Buster and it’s definitely worth checking out!! i’ve read the entire thing today and it’s a lovely and emotional piece of storytelling (it also has a couple of spicy moments so better beware)
Rolls-Royce Sweptail, 2017. Presented today at the Concorso d’Eleganza at Villa d’Este, referencing the swept-tail of certain Rolls-Royces from the 1920s. A bespoke version of the Rolls Royce Wraith commissioned by a Rolls-Royce connoisseur.
The second one is a 1920 x 1080 wallpaper version if anyone is interested. The other one’s the print version. Yes, the store will be opening very soon. Just need to do more research on which online service is better.
Alright inklings, I can’t decide on something so I’m passing it over to your judgement. I need help coming up my book’s aesthetic.
Do I set my dark fantasy novel in a version of 1920s England? Think period dress, struggling to travel around, candlelit nights, flintlock pistols, unjust laws, post-war anger and uprising, occult monsters, religion and witchcraft intermixing in the night. Think isolated towns, small world views, research being hard to come by, no way to reach out when the monster is coming to get you save to scream. Think the woods at night and demons waiting for you around every corner. Think the devil reaching out his hand for you.
Or do i set it in modern England? The same isolated town but now electric lights that shatter, instances that laugh in the face of science, the cracks at the edge of reality, trucks that break down, you know it isn’t real but it is. Think abandoned places and backwards views, think witches but now they have tattoos and lipstick smiles. Think demons who dress in business suits and who’s smiles grow too wide for their faces, think corruption and rot at the heart of everything.
Or do you reckon there’s some way I can combine both? Somewhere in the middle perhaps like 1980s kind of setting? I don’t really know for sure, help me!
(Selkie: a fictional creature. A seal in water, a woman on land. When she comes on land, she sheds her seal skin. If someone hides it, she cannot return to the water without it)
Elizabeth is a selkie. James does not know. Elizabeth does not know. After her mother died, Governor Swann was terrified of losing his daughter as well, so he took Elizabeth’s selkie skin and hid it. When Elizabeth marries James, her selkie skin is buried in a false bottom in her hope chest. She arrives in her new home and as soon as she touches the selkie coat, she remembers who she is. Elizabeth sees her chance for freedom. But before she can take it, James comes in. He sees it and is very confused. Elizabeth contemplates lying to him, but she cannot. This is her test. She wants to know exactly the kind of man she married. She tells him what it is, what it means. James nods. He tells her she is free to go, free to stay, and free to return. Elizabeth kisses his cheek and runs out with her skin. No matter what she chooses, she is free.
Elizabeth leaves and James goes complete Scruffington because he knows she won’t return. She has her freedom and that is all she ever could have wanted.
In an effort to get him to stop his downward spiral, the Navy sends him out to hunt some pirates. But in the pursuit, a sudden storm comes upon them. James, in trying to wrestle some control over the ship in the treacherous water, is thrown from the ship. He sinks beneath the water, spinning and spiraling until he is certain he feels death creeping in at the edges of his vision. But suddenly, his arms are looped around a seal and he is shooting up, up up up until his head breaks the surface.
The rest of the journey is relatively uneventful. When James returns home, Elizabeth is there to greet him. Her coat is not hidden in a box or buried in the sand. It hangs in the closet, ready for her when she is ready for it.
Alors j’ai commencé à feuilleter le bouquin Shadowmen, et, ordre alphabétique aidant, Arsène Lupin est l’une des premières fiches. C’est plutôt intéressant, il y a la liste complète des livres de la série d’origine, des adaptations, quelques pastiches intéressants, une chronologie très complète de l’univers de la série (mise en parallèle de celle de l’univers de Sherlock Holmes), ainsi qu’une longue théorie concernant l’arbre généalogique complet du personnage.
En vrac, quelques trucs que j’ai noté avec surprise :
Maurice Leblanc avait aussi écrit quelques romans aux thématiques très SF : Les Trois Yeux, qui parle d’extra-terrestre, de conspiration, d’anticipation… Un genre de Premier Contact, version 1920. Et aussi Le Formidable Evènement, qui raconte les conséquences de l’apparition soudaine d’un continent à la place de la manche, reliant donc la France à l’Angleterre, qui devient vite un territoire sinistre et sans fois ni loi, façon Far West (MEILLEUR concept de série HBO !)
La fiche s’intéresse surtout aux éléments les plus “surnaturels” des aventures d’Arsène Lupin, et il y en a ! Notamment dansL’Île au trente cercueils, par exemple.
J’ignorais complètement que Dorothée, danseuse de corde faisait aussi officiellement partie de la continuité d’Arsène Lupin. C’est un peu dans le genre du Club des 5, avec une bande de jeunes orphelins de guerre qui résolvent un grand mystère (directement connecté à l’une des grandes enquêtes de Lupin). Du coup, je le lirai sûrement, les personnages ont l’air très chouettes.
Les japonais ont été étonnement prolifiques en matière de films Arsène Lupin ! (et bien avant Lupin III)
Si je vois d’autres anecdotes sympas, j’en parlerai aussi…
I'm new to the Jekyll and Hyde fandom, I've only read the original book, read a version of the musical's script, and listened to the 1994 recording with Anthony Warlow... What else would you reccomend for me?
Try watching the 1920 and 1930 versions of the book! They are old school, but they’re a lot of fun. There is also the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, which is a movie based off the comic book of the same name. Jekyll is a member of a team composed of Victorian fictional characters. c:
There is also the movie Mary Reilly, which is silly but has a really fun Hyde.
There is a BBC series, (a short one, 6 episodes, by Steven Moffat) called Jekyll, starring James Nesbitt, which is also very good! You can watch them all on YouTube here.
Musical wise, check out the German production, as well as the productions with Robert Cuccioli from 1995 and Rob Evan. Constantine Maroulis’ Revival from 2012-13 is also a guilty pleasure of mine, and I’d be more than glad to send you it through an email, as I always misplace the Tumblr post with the links to the show. D:
I’d also recommend tracking the Jekyll and Hyde tag, as we have lots of very talented and wonderful artists and writers. c: And as a bonus, I have a Jekyll and Hyde playlist of a few of my favorite (and not so favorite) J&H related content here.
Prompt: Reader is traveling with best friend Newt and is captured by her brother, one of Grindelwald’s followers, and Grindelwald himself, only to be tortured and brought along with him to Credence when he is in the underground of NYC.
Warnings: torture, killing family in self defense
AN: I imagine Grindelwald to be a 1920’s version of Moriarty. Also, please feel free to request anything. I will have a list of prompts you can request up soon.
“Hey Frank!” You smiled at the gorgeous thunderbird. “It’s okay, Mummy’s here. But don’t tell Newt.” Placing your hand on his head, you thought about the dark storm clouds above him. What was the danger? Frank calmed down and nudged his head against your hand. “Hey, it’s okay. Tomorrow, we’ll be in America and on our way to getting you back home.
You made your rounds in the case as Newt carried you through the streets, someone needed to keep his (your) creatures calm. Too bad that Niffler couldn’t keep his promises to stay put while you checked on the babies. When you realized he had left, you accidentally cracked a vial of a residue of some sort given to you by a dying creature the two of you had found in the Nile. Some of it touched your hand and immediately vanished. You were able to put most of it in another vial and clean up what you couldn’t, though your skin soaked up a bit more. You hoped the side effects were thankfully minimal. Many hours had passed before Newt came in with the little jewelry thief.
“There he is! How many times have I told you that the only jewelry you can have is the stuff in the box I gave you. Hello Newt!”
Your smile melted as Newt’s face became angry. “Y/N! I thought you had them under control!” This was so unlike Newt. Sure, he’d snapped at you when he was frustrated or some search had not gone well, but he’d never looked at you with such anger.
Finally it clicked in your head. This wasn’t Newt. You flicked your hand (wandless magic was a pureblood family tradition, and probably the only one you were proud of), and Newt had changed into a person you could recognize anywhere. Your brother, Y/B/N, also known as one of Grindelwald’s highest ranking fanatics. “B-brother, Y/B/N, please leave them-”
“We aren’t interested in them or this Scamander fellow you love so much. We want you.”
“I won’t join in someone who kills innocents.”
“Join us, or I blow this case to pieces.”
You were in pain. Do you go against your morals or let them die? Your parents were the typical pureblood Slytherin and would have wanted you to give in, but since you and Newt had become such great friends, you had decided to follow your own moral compass. “Brother, I am sorry. Reducto!”
He was caught off guard. In the pureblood world, slaying one’s kin was the highest of offenses, akin to being a blood traitor, which you now supposed you were. But that was no longer your world. Y/B/N’s protego was too late and the spell broke through. As he crumpled, another took his place.
“Interesting. This one’s loyalty knows no bounds.” And that was the last you remembered before waking in a dark room, magically bound. “Now, what is such a powerful pureblood doing with those monsters and that muggle loving Hufflepuff? You could be even more powerful under me.”
The face, mostly covered in shadow, had a disgusting smile. You looked at him, glaring, and spat, “I have a heart and a soul. I would give anything for them.” It was true. Newt had saved you from the life of a pureblood princess and for that you owed him everything, no matter how much he denied it.
“Ah,” said the face, sickeningly sweet, “so you love them? Fine then. If you must sacrifice yourself, I am happy to oblige. Crucio!”
Pain which you had never even thought possible coursed through your body. The world lost focus and all you could hear was the spell over and over again. Your mouth wanted to fall open and pledge your allegiance to him, but you clamped it shut.
Newt and the creatures were obviously safe. Your family was safe. You couldn’t let them be harmed. So you held firm through the pain. The curse should have driven you mad, perhaps it already had, maybe you already were, but something had started to block it out. It must have been that vial that broke right before your brother had come; it must have spell resistance properties. Thank goodness you had been able to save most of it.
Finally, he stopped the spell. “You will follow me, remain safe, and completely invisible.” You didn’t know what spell he had use, but you could still think properly so it wasn’t the imperius. It wasn’t until MACUSA’s aurors tried to kill Graves that the effects of what was in the vial fully presented themselves and threw off the spell.
Once you had full use of your legs again, you ran to Credence to try and separate him from the Obscurial. Newt hadn’t noticed you yet, and you hoped he wouldn’t. You didn’t want him in any more pain. With a flash, you had separated it (why Grindelwald hadn’t stolen your wand, you didn’t know) and started to contain it before there was a crack and you had been thrown against the wall.
You woke up to Newt at your side, your body having taken the blow for Credence. “Y/N, p-please, please b-be o-okay. I-I can’t l-lose you.”
You turned to his voice. “N-Newt?” It hurt to talk. You tried opening your eyes, you knew you had, but you couldn’t see. “N-Newt where are you? I-I can’t see you. W-what have you done with him? Where’s Newt?” You were so scared. He was family, more than that if you had ever cared to be honest with yourself. He couldn’t be gone.
“Y/N, oh sweetheart, I am here. Shh, it will be alright.” Someone lifted you up, hopefully Newt.
“Heal her. She saved your lives today, saved the life of this poor boy. Please, heal her!”
“I’m sorry Mr. Scamander. She got-”
“No you will heal her. She’s been kidnapped and by the look of it, t-t-t-tortured.” He struggled to get the word out. How could anyone have hurt you, his precious Y/N?
The President relented, to everyone’s surprised. “And due to her heroism, we will overlook your association with a No-Maj.” A healer came to take you from Newt’s arms and it was all he could do to not freak out. You squeezed his hand gently. You knew you’d be okay.
It was months before you were well enough to return to England. The curse had taken a toll on your immune system, and it had taken several medicines and spells and potions to get it to work properly again. But you were back. Back in London, and you were looking for Newt. While he wanted to stay, the Americans were still afraid of your creatures and didn’t want Newt or his case to stay for long. So he had to leave.
You smiled as you thanked the bartender at the Leaky Cauldron, who always knew that it was a hot chocolate for you no matter the hour of the day. You had a slight chocolate addiction that was severely in withdrawal from the hospital. Now all you need was Newt. Newt and your family.
He came into the pub and Christmas came early. You got out of your seat and ran to meet him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I am so so sorry, I-”
To your surprise, he stopped your words with a kiss. He drew you into his arms even further and sighed, pulling back to whisper “Merlin, I love you.” Before kissing you lightly again. “And you’re finally home.”
“We’re in the Leaky Cauldron.”
“Yes, but you’re with me, in my arms, where you belong.”
You were surprised at the boldness of your Newt. But the blush on his face showed that it was still him. “In your arms? Are you ready for this Scamander?” Your tone was light but you still worried.
He kissed you once more, impossibly soft, leaving you wanting to beg for more. “Y-yeah. I am. You’re home, in my arms.” You leant your head and sighed. You were home.