#Duke of wellington posting or something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

napoleonic-sexyman-tournament · 2 months

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So, I saw that you had no propaganda for the Iron Duke himself and thought that should be corrected, because I cannot let this man go unloved.

He is the ultimate sexyman. I don't really get that title or the requirements but I do know this man and he is the ultimate in Regency-era sexiness.

Field Marshal Sir Arthur Wellesley, First Duke of Wellington, whose full list of titles merits its own Wikipedia page, he had so many (including Prince of Waterloo of the Kingdom of the Netherlands), was so well known for his debonairness that he was often called "the Beau" or Beau Wellesley.

Our dear Duke with his eyes of "a brilliant light blue," is quite the underdog made good. The fourth son of an Anglo-Irish aristocratic family, he was a bit of a loner as a child, whose star was eclipsed by the academic success of his older and younger brothers. Yet he had a remarkable talent for the violin, which as we know from Mrs. Jefferson is quite a good quality for a man to have. As a young man he was considered extremely good humored and drew "much attention" from female society. The Napiers of Celbridge thought he was a "saucy stripling" and he was also considered quite mischievous. Yet he also had a rich inner life, reading and contemplating the great philosophers of the day.

Yes, we know about his military victories in the Peninsula (the position of Field Marshal of the British Army and the accompanying baton were created for him) and his success at Waterloo, but he was also both romantic and a ladies' man. (I could go on about the military success but that's not really what this is about, is it?)

Want the romantic side? He fell in love with Kitty Pakenham while a lowly aide-de-camp in Dublin but, with no real position or prospects, was laughed away by her brother when he sought to marry her. In a fit of pique he destroyed his violin and turned firmly toward progressing his career. Over a decade later, after he had made something of himself in India, he learned she hadn't married, supposedly because she was still pining for him. Reader, he married her, despite thinking she'd grown ugly, and got two children from her in less than two years. I'm not kidding, this man was virile. They married in April of 1806, their first son was born in February, 1807, and their second son was born in January 1808. Although he wasn't sexual faithful to her, Wellington wore an amulet she gave him for over twenty years, and was still wearing it when he sat with her on her deathbed. When she was surprised he still wore it, he told her if she'd just bothered to check in the last twenty years, she'd have found it. Despite surviving her by twenty years, the Duke never remarried.

Now, please don't think badly of him for the lack of sexual fidelity. It was the Georgian era. Sexual fidelity was not a part of marriage in high society. Men didn't sleep only with their wives and some wives could be quite happy with that (for one, it's much easier not to have one pregnancy after another when your husband is sleeping with someone else). Not that women weren't also sleeping around. Which brings me to one of Wellington's more... interesting conquests: Lady Caroline Lamb, wife of William Lamb (the future Second Viscount Melbourne and Prime Minister). Why do I know that name, you ask? The OG pixie manic dream girl, Caro's much more notably known for her affair with Lord Byron. After that particular bit of nonsense, she was in Brussels with the rest of the English aristocracy during the 100 Days/post Waterloo. She and the Duke supposedly slept together and she took his cloak away as a souvenir.

Who else did the Duke liaise with? Well, there were the usual flings with actresses and singers, such as La Grassini. As previously noted in another post on this tumblr, he was noted as a stronger, better lover than Napoleon by another of their mutual lovers. Wellington also was a client of Harriette Wilson. He visited her when she was in Paris after the Duke of Beaufort bought her off, though this was before Beaufort stopped paying her, prompting her to publish her memoirs. She canvassed her old lovers, including Wellington, to see if they'd pay her not to be in them. Wellington send her a note in return saying "Publish and be Damned." Something about his succinct dismissal of her is just so hot.

Oh, want a bit more of Wellington being a bad boy? In 1829, while Prime Minister, he got into a duel that still is commemorated almost two hundred years later. King's College, London, was set up while Wellington was also advocating for Catholic Emancipation and this led to Lord Winchilsea publicly insulting Wellington's honor to the point that the Duke (who'd never dueled before or supported dueling generally) called him out. They went to Battersea Fields and settled the matter with pistols. Wellington won and Winchelsea apologized. King's College celebrates "Duel Day" every March.

Even better, want to read about Elizabeth Bennet and the Duke being witty and falling in love? Complete with scenes of the Duke showing he knows what to do with his cannon? Then let me recommend the third variation of An Ever Fixed Mark, A Dalliance with the Duke. I dare you not to vote for him for all eternity with that portrayal in your head.

#extensive wellington propaganda

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nighterwriter · 2 years

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Coincidence

Dick Grayson x reader

Word Count: 1414

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Dick was tired. Patrol had been rough and his body was paying the consequences of fighting one to five for hours on end in Gotham’s unforgiving rain. He groaned, trying to massage the tense part in his upper back that had been a victim of one too many punches. He picked up his phone and aimlessly scrolled through missed messages and social media posts, smiling softly when he reached your goodnight text.

Goodnight handsome. Be careful, be safe. Love you always.

Both of you had been busy the last three weeks, trying to juggle work life and personal stressors and because of this, the only time you talked was through good morning and good night texts. Dick’s chest ached. He missed you. He missed the smell of you that had faded from his apartment, the pastries you’d drop off at his work, the way your eyes glowed when you saw him at the end of a long work day. He wanted to be selfish and wake you up with a call - he knew you’d respond - but it wouldn’t be fair to you. At least you had a four-day weekend starting tomorrow - well today. He’d asked for the rest of the week off to spend it with you.

“The loverboy’s sad.” Tim craned his neck to read his texts and ducked when Dick tried to swat him away.

“Shut up dude.”

“Aw, do ya need me to give you a good night’s kiss?” Duke puckered his lips and fought Dick’s outstretched hands.

“Seems like you guys miss them more than me.”

“Duh,” Cass shrugged, “They’re cool.”

“They’re the only one that lets me get Warheads Double Drops.” Steph added.

“That burned your tongue to point of you needing grafts.”

“It’s about living a good life, not living a long one.”

Damian sat in the throng, his face resting in a distasteful manner. He hadn’t liked you from the start. The family was weary at the beginning, which was customary, but the boy never seemed to warm up to you. He’d leave the room when you walked in and if he had to stay, he’d pick the farthest corner and ignore you until you left. You had tried to talk to him, but with the combination of his icy remarks and your aversion to confrontation, you thought it would be best to give him time and space. This broke Dick’s heart, of course. He had a feeling this would happen and tried to maintain the same amount of time he spent with his little brother, but every time something happened - whether it be because of work or something else - he knew that Damian would find a way to blame you. You understand and assured Dick you were okay with Damian’s feelings, they were brothers before you were together, but he could see the slight disappointment whenever you were ignored. You always wanted people to like you, but you knew that sometimes it wouldn’t work out that way, but it was a bigger bummer considering it was your boyfriend’s family.

“We’ve been busy with work, but we’re supposed to meet for lunch tomorrow.” He didn’t know why he was explaining this, but it felt better to get it off his chest instead of keeping it inside. God, he missed you.

Damian scoffed but didn’t say anything. Bruce looked up from the computer and opened his mouth, but Dick shook his head. It’s better to let him deal with it himself.

A noise came from the computer. Barbara frowned as she pulled up the tab, but then looked confused.

“Someone’s at the front door.” It was three in the morning and raining heavily and Wayne Manor had gates that could only be accessed with a code.

“Excuse me, Mr. Wayne? I know it’s late and I didn’t mean to show up out of the blue, but I need help.”

What the hell were you doing here? You had pulled your hood down and were looking directly into the camera, your arms hugging your torso. You could’ve been a clone, maybe Clayface in disguise, but you had that familiar look in your eyes and you had known the gate code that Dick made sure to teach you in case of emergencies.

“Wait! There’s a code word… Wellington!”

“By God, how much longer are you planning on letting the poor child stand out there?” Alfred reprimanded, gathering towels and heading towards the front door.

Dick followed, a pit of worry digging itself into his stomach. He’d told you the code for emergencies and by the way you were holding your stomach, you might’ve been hurt, but the color of the hoodie was too dark to make any conclusions.

Relief flooded your face as Alfred opened the door.

“Good morning, Mr. Pennyworth. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“The only thing you should be sorry for is the cold you’re going to catch if stand out there a minute longer.” The butler ushered you in, wrapping you in towels.

Your face brightened when you saw your boyfriend. “Hey baby.”

“What’s wrong? How’d you get here? Why’re you here?” Dick gently rubbed a towel against your hair.

“I took the bus and I walked here.”

“Babe, it’s three in the morning. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I needed to come here as soon as I could. Good thing bus fare at two in the morning’s cheap.” The rest of the group soon joined in the foyer, watching amused as the couple bickered. Your arms were still caged against your body and the closer Dick looked, the lumpier the area looked. “And I didn’t come here for you, I came for Damian.”

The boy’s scowl had deepened when you called his name and took a step towards him.

“I was gonna go to bed, but I remembered I had to take the trash out. When I got there, I found these little guys.” You cradled your stomach as you gently unzipped your hoodie. Cradled in your hands, five kittens were asleep, curled against each other. “No momma in sight.”

Damian’s face brightened when he saw the creatures. Two of them were all grey, one was grey and white and the other two were grey and black. Gently, you scooped two up and placed them in Damian’s awaiting hands, giving the other three to Cass and Jason. Your teeth were chattering as Dick wrapped a towel around you and threw your soaked hoodie to the floor.

“I would’ve kept them ’til tomorrow, but my landlord saw me skulking around the trash and I’m pretty sure he’s been waiting for me to slip up and break my lease.”

“That’s why I told you to move in with me.” Dick murmured, pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back to generate some warmth.

”We’re not having this conversation right now.”

“Where will they go?” Damian asked quietly, biting back a smile when one of the kittens let out a mewl.

“I can’t keep them, no pets allowed at my apartment complex and I don’t know the first thing about taking care of kittens,” You paused, “Maybe you could keep them? Or find them a loving home?”

He was quiet as he gingerly petted each kitten, eyes searching for any fleas or wounds. Dick wanted to believe that this had been planned. Kittens near your trash was as stereotypical as it got. But you never left without your phone (there was no trace of it on your person) and you risked getting sick which is something you hated because of your work’s shitty tendencies. It’s a coincidence, he thought as he kissed the top of your head repeatedly as he watched Damian play with the only kitten awake. One hell of a coincidence. One sent by someone who wanted you and Damian to get along.

“Off to the showers with you. You’ll spend the night in the manor before accompanying Master Dick back to Bludhaven for your much-needed time off.” Alfred’s words weren’t a suggestion. You nodded and kissed Dick before going to follow, but were stopped by Damian speaking.

“After you collect yourself… would you like to assist me in the kittens’ bathing and feeding?” He sounded uncomfortable, his eyes flitting quickly to yours and back to the kittens, but it was enough to make your heart swell.

“Yeah sure.”

Dick smiled as he watched you hide your giddiness as you followed Alfred.

Maybe it was more than a coincidence.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson drabble

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kanerallels · 5 months

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#1, 7, 8, and 15 for the fic ask game, please ?

1.What's something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again? Ummmm good question. Oh! With one of the random obsessions I had this year, I didn't overthink my need to write fan fic, or go overboard. Instead I just wrote a bunch of one shots while the obsession remained, and didn't get too worried about the plot or anything. It was really fun, turned out well, and I think I would do it again!

7. What character(s) captured your heart? ALWAYS Kanera. But I had a lot of fun writing some (unpublished) Trilla content, and Inspector Wellington from Miss Scarlet And The Duke was very fun to write!

8. Did you write for a new fandom or ship this year? Yup! Probably some others, but the main one I can think of would be Miss Scarlet and the Duke (William x Eliza) and The Company You Keep (Charlie x Emma, obviously!). Oh and Saville and Galen from Valiant by Sarah McGuire, too! OH WAIT AND CHENFORD FROM THE ROOKIE dang I wrote for a lot of new ships this year

15. Rec a fic you wrote or posted in 2023! Oooh! Um let's go with "Traditions", one of my two Jacen Syndulla Week fan fics! It features our Ghost crew beloveds, plus also my OC ship for Jacen which I wrote roughly 53 k words of context for a couple years back

#thanks for the ask!!#fan fic ask game

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lyndwyrm0 · 9 months

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W.B Obbly's Obelisk Observer Society ( @gargoyle-doyle )

Timeline of the obelisk throughout the ages :-) get cozy this is a big long post :0

All of these are dated either by the original sources of the images or by us, through cunning cleverness and wild assumptions. Thanks for tolerating our inaccuracies and please feel free to point out anything you think is a mistake! I will site as many of the sources that I can track down in our files without losing my mind, if i left one out it's for your own safety (it was probably an accident). For the images that are really small I will include zoomed in/circled versions at the bottom of this post :-)

(this is not all of the images we have of the obelisk, just the ones that are relevant enough to give an idea of what it looked like/ where it was throughout the 1, 1/2 centuries it was on Southsea beach)

This drawing is dated 1729, and (I'm not sure if the quality is going to be butchered when I upload this) but there is a *tiny* little wooden post towards the left of the water which is listed in the written key as "6 Felton's Gibbet who stab'd the D of Buckingham". (scroll to bottom for zoomed in ver)

1765: listed as "10. Feltons Gibbet" and is the post of wood in the near centre of the image. (zoomed in version at bottom :3) one source says that this image (or one very similar) is from 1750 instead. Believe whichever one you want :))

The gibbet post was replaced with the obelisk sometime around 1782

(est) 1830's: we got this image from the Portsmouth Historic Environmental record on their facebook and they had it listed as around the 1830's. Our obelisk is (most likely) the one on the right.

Around the 1850's onward things become really confusing and, in our files, very disorganized.

Southsea esplanade was built around 1852, along with Clarence pier around 1860. We think that the obelisk was moved during this construction (not very far, just further inland) along with the other monuments along the beach.

According to this Hampshire Telegraph from 1884, W.H. says that it was sometime around 1850 that Frederick Fitzclarence added the inscription on the obelisk, commemorating the construction of the esplanade. Among the other things Fitzclarence was doing to 'make his mark' on Southsea beach, he added two monuments dedicated to the Duke of Wellington and Admiral Lord Nelson which also went missing - might be W.B. Obbly Society's next research task :))

Then there's This link: H. Percy Boulnois says that "Amongst other improvements which I carried out along the sea front was the re-arrangement of the various monuments" so potentially he had something to do with the obelisks obscurity during this time period. I'm not too sure but I think this is sometime in the mid 1880's seeing as he was elected borough engineer in 1883 (I recommend reading the History in Portsmouth page linked above because it's super interesting; he also built Canoe lake and was friends with Arthur Conan Doyle - although it seems like there were very few people who weren't friends with Arthur Conan Doyle during his time in Southsea)

Anyways, all of this ^ was just to say that we have a few drawings that I might make a separate post about (I will link it here if I do ;) but I'm not adding them to this timeline because we can't even be entirely sure that the obelisk is in them.

These two photos are the first photographs we have of the obelisk! Both are dated from 1854 and found on the royal collection trust site. The first one is titled "The fleet at anchor" and the second one is titled "The Neptune coming out of harbour" and also shows either the Wellington or the Nelson monument as well.

Even though I said I was going to make a separate post about this, I'm terribly unreliable and lie constantly so here's one of the drawings that confuses us from around the 1850's:

This is one of the many drawings we have with a wacko looking version of the obelisk, so wacko that we can't even really tell if that is the obelisk in the background. My current theory is that artists who drew Southsea beach hated drawing the obelisk so they just took as many creative liberties as possible to make it look completely unrecognizable. But given the placement in comparison to the 1854 photos where the obelisk is literally visible ??? still can't be too sure honestly lets just move on before I get upset

The only date that I can find for these two drawings is 1871, both from alamy images, the obelisk would be one of the structures near the 'street' in the bottom left. In the second image it looks like it has been removed for construction? (also clearly visible in the second image is the bases of the Wellington and Nelson statues on either side of the tramlines - which is interesting as neither of the actual statues themselves are there despite the fact that according to their memorial page the Wellington statue remained in place at least until 1874? This means one of these sources is wrong and I'm out to find out which one >:-( if anybody is even reading this and happens to know something pls tell me imbegging

In 1881 there is this newspaper extract (Hampshire Chronicle Feb 5th 1881) that claims the obelisk was removed for construction and found to be too decayed to be re-erected so instead it was replaced by a fa-simile. RIP to the original obelisk :(

Another article from 1881 says that the new obelisk was painted brown instead of white because people thought the original white looked moldy and gross (lol)

We still have photos from after the article where it still appears white, but honestly it's colour varies a lot so whatever

1892, obelisk is the white structure in the centre of this photo

1894, I think the obelisk is just barely visible in the shadows to the left of the pier

Between the 1890's and the 1930's we have a sad gap in our photo collection BUT there are plenty of newspaper extracts that mention the obelisk so we know it was definitely still there during this time period, I won't include all of them as I'm planning on making a separate post dedicated to the newspapers mentions. (acquired through our buddy David who gave us access to the online newspaper archive)

*we do have one photo estimated from 1900 which i've added at the very bottom of this post

The most notable newspaper entry from this time period is Feb 22nd 1902 and it says that the obelisk was blown down in a storm. (sorry its blurry)

We know that it was at least rebuilt by 1915 which is its next mention in the papers.

1930: This image is from the evening news March 13th, 1930. This is a photo that we would kill to find the original version of, as it is maybe our best bet of getting a good look at the inscription. I'll probably go into more detail on a separate post.

1934, from a newspaper article signed "W.G." that we think was written by William Gates based on the monuments and memorials website.

Skipping to this image dated "1930's" that I found randomly in one of my textbooks while I was doing my geography homework, which just happens to be one of the best images with have of the obelisk from this era. My best guess is that this is mid - late 1930's (based on absolutely nothing other than intuition and the cars in the photo) Thank you to my geography teacher for assigning local sea defense's as a research task as it led me to the Southsea coastal scheme booklet :)

1937, there are a lot of photos just like this one from old Southsea postcards with the obelisk far in the background but this is the only one I have with a specific date - thus making it timeline worthy

We have this image dated as 1939, making it the most recent photo we have of the obelisk so far. Portsmouth music scene website has a really similar image of the pier (scroll wayyy down on that link), with the sign advertising "Hugh Frossard and his broadcasting band", who performed at clarence pier in June 1939.

The zoomed in images ! sorry these are still kind of blurry

(this is a black and white version of the 1894 clarence pier pic because you can see the outline of the obelisk better)

Bonus images!! I dont have specific dates for these two but I really like them :-))

*This is the one estimated around 1900, but I can't remember where I found this image/where I got that date from which makes me suspicious

It's also super hard to see the obelisk in the background but here's the best close up I can get you

Bye!!

#Obelisk observer society

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philcoulsonismyhero · 9 months

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I'm trying to get a whole bunch of new stuff drawn over the next few weeks before the autumn con season kicks off, so in the hope that a bit of public accountability will help me keep up the momentum, here's the to-draw list:

Kit Fisto (next on brown paper Jedi drawings list) - started today, about 70% of the lineart roughed out

Set of four Team RWBY (coloured card) - Ruby is about 80% pencilled, other three have poses sketched out

Nazghul thing* - rough sketch layout down on paper

Captain Jack - pencils finished, next step is inking

Daniel and Johnny screencap redraw - pencil lineart finished on Daniel, Johnny about 80% done, still need to decide on background elements

Criminal Minds - 12 of 16 characters finished, pencils for #13 nearly done

I've got a few different deadlines for getting things done if I want them printed in time for the various autumn cons, and the first one is the 11th. The only one that I definitely need done by then is Kit Fisto, but the more I can get done by then the better. The next deadline is the 18th (and the RWBY and Nazghul ones need to be done by then so I've got them for ACME in Glasgow) and then the end of the month for the stuff I want to have for SCC (which is The Big One). There's a couple more things I can add to the list if I get through everything, but nine different drawings of varying levels of complexity is enough to be getting on with for now.

I'll post some WIP photos along with the progress updates if people are interested in anything in particular!

(*The nazghul thing takes a little explaining - there's this guy-on-a-horse statue of the Duke of Wellington in Glasgow that iconically always has a traffic cone (or several) on the Duke's head (and sometimes also the horse) and it's a big local landmark. I was trying to come up with something funny because funny always sells well, and my sister and I hit on the idea of a nazghul wearing the iconic traffic cone as something that'll probably go down really well with the Glasgow con crowd. I'm also going to include the 'People Make Glasgow' tourism slogan as 'People Make Mordor', just to add an extra joke.)

#to draw list #personal stuff #we're just going to ignore the times at which i make any update posts...#i always end up nocturnal when i don't have to get up early at the weekends #not getting to bed until 6am is unfortunately normal for me

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clove-pinks · 2 years

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The term dandy meant vastly different things from its inception in the late 1790s to its heyday in 1819. It was largely superseded by the term beau 1810-1815, and then resurrected by post-period writers to each of whom, as we have seen, it signified something different. It is significant that Beau Brummell was called ‘Beau’, as was Wellington, ‘The Beau’ by his contemporaries, or occasionally, ‘The Peer’. Wellington was often portrayed as dressing simply, in white pantaloons, hessians, blue frock and white neck-cloth and cocked hat. [...]

The dress he wore for the battlefield and for campaigning would have been entirely in place on Bond Street among the beaux of the ton, admittedly with the addition of some military trappings, such as the sash and sword. He was an early adopter of fashion, if not an innovator. It is certain that he set the pattern for the young officers of the army, who wanted to cut a dash by imitating their leader. They talked of ‘the true Wellington pattern cocked hat’, the ‘Wellington boot’, the ‘Wellington pelisse’, and so on.

— Ben Townsend, Fashioning Regulation, Regulating Fashion: The Uniforms and Dress of the British Army 1800-1815: Volume II

Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington by Charles Turner, after Juan Bauzil (or Bauziel), hand-coloured mezzotint, published 1817. (National Portrait Gallery)

Bauzil, Juan, active 1816. Bauzil, Juan, fl 1816 :Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington. Engraved by Chas. Turner; [painted] by Bauzit [ie Bauzil]. London, published April 16th 1816 by the Proprietor Chas Turner.. Ref: C-021-001. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand.

#arthur wellesley #1810s #fashion history #napoleonic #dress history #duke of wellington #regency #dandyism #beau brummell #fashion #military history #dandy #wellington #ben townsend #british army #men's fashion #historical men's fashion

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lordansketil · 2 years

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I find George IV fascinating, but part of me feels that I shouldn't because of all the bad things he did, such as his 1824 proclamation that enslaved Black people were "undeserving of our protection" if they didn't obey their enslavers, his stalking of Maria Fitzherbert and Mary Hamilton (the latter of which has been compared to sexual harassment), his treatment of Caroline, which included coercive control/abuse when they lived together, and of his daughter Charlotte. Thoughts?

Listen, George IV wasn't a good person. He wanted to be a good person, but he had the backbone of a chocolate eclair and was fundamentally self-centered. I think it was his sister Elizabeth who said "my brother was always in a dazzle" and "had he been left to his own judgement would ever have been kind and just but people got hold of him, and flattery did more harm in that quarter than anything". They're partial words, of course, but probably true. The man was not remotely suited to his birthright and, after 1816, he presided over one of the most repressive and brutal periods in English history and the best excuse he has to excuse himself from responsibility is that he wasn't interested in government. He sent congratulations to the magistrates who ordered the Peterloo massacre. There's really no getting around just how grim things were and how hated he was. His treatment of his wife and daughter was tyrannical in the extreme and he was insanely obsessive when he was in love.

But, you know, it's impossible not to enjoy George IV once you start reading about him. This was a child who called out "Wilkes for ever! And the forty-five!" to his furious father when he was seven. The same year he later said King George III ceased to love him. This was a teenager who adored fancy heels so much his father, determined to show him they were foolish and impractical, took him on a long walk in the countryside until his shoes broke and his feet were bleeding and blistered. Yet he came to dinner wearing another pair despite the pain. This is someone who, ever since his parents sent his brother away, was terrified of being alone.

Prinny's story is so bound up in tragedy, for himself and for others, caused first by his parents and then by him, yet it reads like comedy and bad melodrama. He wanted to be grand and heroic but ended up a laughingstock. His love letters were so over the top they became bathetic. He was a shopaholic. He put on increasing amounts of weight. He struggled with depression and tried to cure it with more and more consumption. He was often unwell during his regency and was seldom well during his time as king. He was hopeless with money. And he needed someone, always, to be his rudder because - beneath all that bluster - he had no faith in his own judgement and felt that he had no purpose. George IV may not have been a good ruler, but he was just so damn human.

After enduring a painful operation without anesthetic, his first response was a pun. He couldn't stand awkwardness. He loved fashion so much he was always trying new things. He made the Duke of Wellington tear his hair out over how to fold fancy envelopes and gave him that naked statue of Napoleon. When he first became king he said he never wanted to sign another death warrant (if only he'd gotten his way!). He sat on the Lord Chancellor's bed and threatened not to leave until Eldon gave a friend of his a posting. He was always laughing or crying over something. He cried when his friend Lord Moira told him the state of the country during his Regency. He cried and was drunk at his wedding. He laughed and ate biscuits at the thanksgiving service for his father's recovery. He once dressed as a sexy nun at a masquerade party. He wore black silk underwear. He was always trying to get other people to eat more. He loved music, gossip, dragons, horses, romances, and stupid practical jokes. He loved Jane Austen even though she found him repulsive. He obsessively collected caricatures of himself and was still causing problems after his death when Prince Albert found his porn collection. Every time you read anything about George IV - always swinging from one extreme to another - you inevitably learn a new and even more ridiculous fact about his life.

So I say, you don't need to defend George IV to enjoy him.

#george iv #prinny #the most extraordinary compound #blorbo from my history books

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naresnani · 2 years

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Annihilation

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire | Napoleon Bonaparte / Arthur Wellesley | Words: 3.2k

Tags: NSFW, dark au (see notes), rough sex, biting, bleeding, blood drinking, masochism

Summary :

Looking at the former Duke of Wellington, he couldn't call that final state the same thing as beautiful, but he couldn't find any other word more perfect for it.

Notes: So this is based on the... netflix castlevania-esque AU I thought up a while ago, which illustration can be seen here. You should probably check out that post first to make more sense of the setting. Anyway this was also written for the 2022 Napoleon Week event ran by @kissmetwicekissmedeadly (or @xxsycamore ) and Me, for the prompt of day 2 - Scar // “I can’t call this beautiful.” Taken A LOT of artistic liberty with this one.

Also, Mind the tags.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

A gash of lightning lit up the decrepit castle alive. Unlit chandeliers clinked above restlessly making a show for no one while the following thunder hums underneath the flooring. The foyer looked dead-still otherwise, as is always the case. The entire place seems barren no matter how much work is being done here in reality. It is still as hollow, still as noiseless, still as dead.

The only place something wretched could call home. Lord Vlad's lair. Desolate enough to not be disgusting. It's as good as one could get being the risen dead. Only the higher ranks could ever even hope to catch a sight of its towering structure. But there's really nothing all that exciting once you find it. A human might, but for him it's either this listless existence or the grimy blood-mixed dirt of the battlefield.

Napoleon remembered that he was human once. Sort of. And sometimes it's achingly obvious that he was still a bit of one.

Because all this destruction in the name of Vlad's revenge towards humanity blankets him in something indefinable. It's not even guilt nor bitterness. It's something he desperately needs to shake off to resume his path, but couldn't.

Total sensory and emotional deprivation was perhaps not how man are made to live. The intoxicating effect of violence to mend it just doesn't last long enough for him. Pain doesn't last long enough for him. Wounds and anger doesn't. Death doesn't.

Lord Vlad often laments that of beauty. Not everlasting enough, not indestructible enough, not his enough. Especially after humanity had taken away his love forever—burned at the stake for being his. Now suppose love and beauty is something he deems unachievable but desperately seeks for, and that desire is what made all the other great purebloods relegate him. He's too human. All too human.

Napoleon considered. Could what he's dealing with be something… a tad similar to that?

The entrance door behind him screeched an awful sound. The key's few clicks dislodged some of the vacuum that oppressed the place. Something else is now roaming the building.

By the sound of the staggered steps and the burning metallic stench, Napoleon knew exactly who it would be.

"Finished with your mission?" He turned back just a degree. He could catch the silhouette of a bowing figure, prowling slowly to where he was standing. It barely took notice of him until they caught each other's eyes. "I know I will always find you this way."

Blown out pupils, skin and cloth covered in blood and filth. There's nothing behind that window.

The former Duke of Wellington stared from that shadow. Napoleon thought this sort of fall from grace couldn't be more erogenous, this end result of evolution. He wished the remaining half of him would finally submit to that end—no more trace of the former human! But he couldn't find a way. He couldn't yet bridge this agonising limbo and be done with that ineffable emptiness.

Looking at the duke, he couldn't call that final state the same thing as beautiful, but he couldn't find any other word more perfect for it.

"I'll admit, I was waiting for you," said he.

The creature stalked, and finally lunged for him from that distance, crashing him into the wall before Napoleon could draw a knife off his holster.

He held off the duke with an arm against its throat and finally managed to fish out the knife. He boasted the weapon in front of it, chuckling as if threatening to cut its face open, before landing the sharp side across his own arm instead.

Blood spilled generously from the cut. He let the former man sink his teeth into the wound, suffocating his body further into the wall just to drink every drop of it. He groaned through gritted teeth in pain, but one couldn't let this Wellington stop drinking before it's over.

Seconds passed with lips sucking harshly on the wound and the duke hadn't yet gotten enough of it for longer than expected. He realised, Wellington wouldn't stop until he's dry.

With heart jumping frantic in his ribs Napoleon shoved him off with all of his strength, enough to send him tumbling hard onto the floor. As expected Wellington instantly stood up without a sweat, bent over as if he's about to retch.

He did just that with mouth opened as wide as it was able. Nothing came out of him.

"You… damn you."

The human voice that belongs to him. Raspy, quiet. Much younger than one would expect.

"... I knew it. It's your damn stench again. You've been doing this on purpose."

Napoleon’s lips couldn't stop their curve. Wellington spat on the floor and got nothing out but saliva. Not lingering taste from the back of his tongue, not the smell. He groused. Looked back towards Napoleon.

"What in devil's name do you actually wish to do? Get me hooked? Slowly turn me into your slave?"

"What would you reckon I wanted?"

"It will not work out as well as you think."

Napoleon lost the smile. He leaned forward.

"Listen, here." He grabbed Wellington by the shoulder—a mock friendly gesture—and harshly pulled him closer to whisper, "You were the one practically choking me out for it. Don't give me that attitude. I could've just put you down to make it easier for the rest of us but Lord Vlad is sometimes rather attached to his dogs."

Wellington snarled. "Then you know very well what will end up happening instead is you, torn up into pieces all over the ground and floor, unsalvageable—and that's something you cannot afford to regret too late."

Napoleon's eyes twitched. He smirked. "I had wondered if you'd care even slightly if I'd died… maybe you do."

"I care whether or not you've died by my hands."

"Huh. That's surprising."

"I have some conscience left." Blue eyes pierced into dull emerald ones. "Unlike you."

Napoleon endured Wellington's biting gaze. It shocked his nerves into a cold standstill. In a way it's more ferocious the more it possesses reason. Because he could shred you apart better with intention.

But Napoleon had been with him for a while—longer than he could recall the era before—and each day, each time they stood on the same battered battleground, the same village burnt into crisp, he knew that it's true.

Wellington would chew him out for every single 'inhumane' death and then drop down to scavenge a fresh corpse the next moment. An idiot of principle. He never spared Napoleon a single glance before this. Never gaze at him as prey. Never took him apart the way he wanted him to. Napoleon wants to feel the receiving end of that monstrosity. For once, for once in this dull indestructible existence.

That conscience Wellington decided to keep,

"Hmph." Napoleon averted his eyes, almost to hide a smile. "It's unfortunate."

He wanted Wellington to take him, badly.

His arm had stopped bleeding. Napoleon brought his hand up to bite the pad of his thumb until it broke skin and grazed it across Wellington's lips. It caught the duke off guard, shutting up tightly. Some red coated the lower curve. He could definitely still taste that savoury blood all too well.

"But consider… that I maybe do enjoy seeing you like this." He smiled wider. His thumb stopped at the edge of Wellington's mouth, urging it to finally tremble open, tongue darting out slightly to lick the blood off. Napoleon could nearly pinpoint the way the high spread from the prickle of the duke's taste buds into his darkened eyes. "Seeing you addicted. To me."

Wellington's shaky hand hesitated, before it grabbed Napoleon’s to push his thumb further into his mouth to lap up any excess drop even after the wound closed up almost instantly. He couldn't hide his frustrated grunt, flattening up his tongue up to a knuckle, and further up the arm still, cleaning up any dried stain of the previous bleeding.

"That's it… just like a dog," Napoleon cooed.

Hearing that Wellington fixed him with slight fury, shiver, whatever emotion was overcoming him right now, and pushed Napoleon further up the wall to latch his mouth into his neck, earning him a shocked huff from the man. Just having Napoleon's pulse be this close made him shudder. His lips could trace the warm blood flowing under the skin.

Then he felt a cold, sharp instrument resting on the skin of his nape.

Napoleon tutted. "Ah-ah-ah. You can't have what you want. I'll kill you."

Napoleon's knife blared its warning. Wellington somehow restrained himself, letting Napoleon down, his teeth just a touch away from his neck. He could effortlessly tear through it just as that knife could smoothly sink into him, but he kept his lips shut. Breathed in what air that he could gather around to ground him.

"Keep your teeth away and I might- just keep your head on your shoulders." Napoleon sounded breathless. He couldn't help his heart running faster than he'd like it to. "It's not a pleasant experience. Faust possibly won't even bother with you."

Napoleon expected Wellington to be provoked and leave this game alone, but instead he felt rough lips diving in and rubbing, picking, pinching—tongue licking the same spot with the beating pulse over and over again. Arousing a single nerve. It's ferociously gentle. Torturing. Too intimate.

He arched his back off the wall to slightly escape from it but Wellington planted his full weight to prevent it from happening. A pathetic moan almost left his throat. This simple helplessness along with the weight of someone devouring him this way almost built the excitement he was seeking.

It was supposed to be a long game, but Napoleon couldn't make himself stop it from advancing.

He pulled on the duke's hair. Wellington started sucking some skin deep into his lips until it broke the small vessels beneath the epidermis, just until he could almost taste the blood under the thin layer. Just there. So close but not here. He was only licking Napoleon’s bruises and he needed to sink into him. Fits his mouth on him. Something. Anything.

Something hard was pressing into his thigh. Napoleon's cock, leaning into the lines of his trousers. "...You fucking harlot."

Napoleon's laughter emanated. He shifted the knife behind his neck just a bit to remind him of it.

"If we're both getting off to it, can't say it's a bad deal."

"So this is what you've been fantasising about, huh?" He dragged his thigh a little just to see Napoleon’s reaction. "What is this, a sick death wish? A paraphilia? A self-destructive fetish?"

"If only it were so casual. I…" Napoleon winced and bowed his head. "It's not simply lust. I want to be crushed out of this vessel. This… residue of humanity is dragging on my skin. I can't stand what it's doing to me anymore."

"Haah, what are you even…"

"I need undoing." He looked back at him. "Undoing, you hear me? Proper ruin that'll keep me breathing. There's no such thing. Only some that'll break me enough."

Wellington scowled. Whatever nonsense this man is going to give, he knows what he actually wants. They stare at each other closely. "Why me? not the Lord, not the doctor, or just some random wench that you can find."

"Why you. You're the only one that I-" Wellington wouldn't understand the slightest, of course. Napoleon closed his mouth for a second. "Allow."

Closer. "Allow to what, precisely."

"To fuck me." The knife sat deeper into the skin.

Wellington sneered, a tad amused. "If that's the case…"

His hands roamed for the first time. It pressed through clothes into the dips of Napoleon’s ribs, waist. He stopped a hand on one of Napoleon’s thighs to drag it back to his cock. They wouldn't leave each other's eyes out of sight. New shivers thundering in him. Wellington whispered,

"Turn around."

Napoleon kept their eye contact. He slowly released his knife from Wellington's neck, lowering it, and eventually letting it fall onto the floor.

He trusts him with his life.

Wellington twisted him around while dragging his hips backwards. Napoleon grunted by the strain. He pulled off Napoleon's trousers just enough to free his erection.

Napoleon grinds his teeth so as to not moan while Wellington stroked him. He tugged Napoleon’s shirt open to reveal more skin, to fit his teeth into while the man was writhing. He supposed this is the only way he'd get his fill.

"Is this what you were thinking of?" He squeezed on the stroke up. "This is what you wish I'd do?"

Napoleon couldn't speak or he'll let out an egregious moan. He grinded his hips back into Wellington's to get his cock harder. The duke tsked. He lapped up his own fingers clean before shoving them into Napoleon’s trousers and pressing into his hole.

Napoleon swallowed up a grunt. The finger dragged along his walls, stretching a muscle he didn't realise could be pulled so pleasantly. It breached deep enough to graze rub into his pleasant spot, and he let tremors rumble throughout his body. This is as close as contentment he's going to get.

Wellington grazed his teeth on his shoulder and Napoleon finally moaned. His cock and entrance kept being stroked and stretched incessantly at the same time no matter where he escaped his hips to and he felt everything coming in together, climbing to a single point.

"...How simple."

Napoleon chased his release himself by fucking into Wellington's hand and fingers. It felt just like any other one. Could've jerked himself off and gotten the same result. He leaned his head into the man behind him, panting, searching the blue eyes that were keenly watching him.

"You could do more than that."

"Be patient."

Wellington collected all of his cum into his palm, tugging the oversensitive cock to spill everything out. He used them to coat his own erection while Napoleon shook over the prolonged stimulation and he pressed his forehead onto Wellington's cheek while taking a lungful of air for each stroke he gave.

"Take your clothes off if you have to," Wellington said. His breath still reeked of rot that Napoleon wished would eventually also blight him. That beautiful end. He idly pressed his mouth into Wellington's—catching him off guard—while he let his trousers fall, his half unbuttoned shirt and jacket falling off his shoulders; the duke once again thrown off by how much he was giving him.

The kiss didn't move their lips. It simply froze them still. Wellington hesitatingly trailed his hand along Napoleon’s bent arm to find his fingers that were stopped in the middle of unbuttoning, and finished the job for him, pushing it off and letting everything fall to the floor.

Napoleon’s body was entirely unprotected, while the duke's clothes and armour still pressed intimately against his bare skin. They didn't see each other's eyes. They might not ever want to see them again.

Wellington even spoke against his lips, so he didn't need to pull away. "You're giving me everything."

"Yes. This is nothing."

Wellington's fingers danced along Napoleon’s abdomen, his erection absentmindedly resting between Napoleon’s behind. This is nothing but the banal state of being. Debased human body.

"This is what you want destroyed?"

Some lifeless limbo that you're living in.

"Or do you actually want it… completed?"

He slowly rutted into Napoleon’s willing entrance, while his hand reached down to cup the other's softened penis.

Napoleon moaned while grabbing hold of Wellington's clothes behind him for anchor.

"You're bothered by your longing. Means emptiness has filled you. There's no way to escape that for a human."

"I- I fucking realised. –ak-!"

Wellington set a brutal pace that dragged and opened his tight insides unceasingly, stimulating more nerves that spread to all the tips of his body. His cock soaked Wellington's hand, who did not move to give it any attention.

"Hah, poor thing. I didn’t realise all that anger and blatant disregard are… quite literally desperation."

Napoleon’s barely swallowed gasps and moans poured out towards the tall hollow ceiling. His pleasure and pain couldn't spill out anywhere, just coiling and coiling inside because he couldn't let himself cum until he's certain that monster wouldn't keep going.

"I shouldn't destroy you, you might've deserved this torture of being." He slowed down to thrust full and deep, rolling his hips to hit the spot Napoleon would feel his dick the most. He trailed his hand and softly held Napoleon's bare shoulder close to his lips. "But… you could have this from time to time."

"A-ah- just, keep going."

"I know." Wellington bit a piece of skin. He kept up his grinding while relishing the small trickle of blood. Napoleon whined and it's a noise Wellington never heard from his mouth—the cock in his hand got impossibly harder and his passage clenched tighter onto the dick penetrating him.

"- -Oh… I should- really.. savour you."

Napoleon exhaled long and deep breaths. Wellington slowed down for a moment, long enough to make Napoleon realise the hair tickling his cheek, and the hand idly tracing his bare abdomen. The cold air blowing around him contrasted with their warm breaths.

They continued long into the night.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Napoleon whimpered as he felt the heat trickling down his legs. He has not felt this mentally exhausted in a long time. The bed they've moved into creaked as Wellington shifted behind him, grasping the back of his thighs and began licking him up to his aching hole.

"You- !"

He doesn't have the strength to complain, dropping his head down onto the sheets. Wellington could taste some drops of blood. He cleaned it up and prodded his tongue in to lap up any that could've been left in his wake.

Napoleon was trembling on the bed. He couldn't yet feel anything close to what he's been looking for, for any pain that Wellington bit into him kept fading back into nothing. There's nothing that the duke would do to him further except just… making love and making love.

"... You still wouldn't give me what I want."

Wellington laid atop of him, biting the side of his neck deep into his artery, eliciting a very weak cry. He only sucked in a couple rich gulps before immediately pulling out, only licking the rest of the blood that seeped out.

Napoleon had filled his palette enough. He didn't know what else he could do. The wound closed up quickly, as any inflicted wounds would have on the halfling, and Wellington thinks he definitely shouldn't just try to finally finish him in one go, not even if he actually wants to.

The man was probably too spent to continue anything anyway. He let Napoleon roll to the side and his back on his arm. He brushed the sweat off the man's forehead idly. He couldn't find anything else to touch, or to stare at.

They accidentally looked at each other's eyes. It's not as bad as they thought it'd be.

"I don't know what you truly want, and I don't think you do either, do you?…."

Long and weakened breaths. The castle became a silent and hollow cranium, again. As it will always be for eternity. But the duke did not know that during those last moments where he had gently brushed the sweat off his fellow's skin for seemingly no reason, had been the closest Napoleon had ever gotten to feeling complete.

#ikevamp #napoleon week 2022 #Ikevamp napoleon #Ikevamp wellington

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goodthoughts001 · 1 year

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Kate Middleton, Prince George Have Most-Watched Playdate Ever: See the Photos!

When Kate Middleton takes Prince George on a playdate, the results are royally cute. We learned this key lesson today in Wellington, New Zealand.

The eight-month-old youngster joined parents Kate and William for his very first royal engagement inside the Blundell Room at Government House.

Photos of the future King of England’s playdate with local toddlers offered up a glimpse at the would-be monarch’s personality … and/or were just super cute:

Did you like 11 Precious Prince George Playdate Photos? If so, please share:Get more content like this delivered to your inbox for FREE:

While the future monarch crawled across the crowded room, proud father Prince William marveled: “He goes right up to the door and peers through.”

The latest milestone from George? “He’s teething!” Kate Middleton revealed.

Other playdate highlights? The royal baby grabbing a purple tambourine, throwing a blue plastic block and banging on a baby drum set with Isabella Tunstall.

“Isabella and George had a lot of fun on the drums,” her dad Ryan said. “It was a pleasure sharing our beautiful baby with the duke and duchess.”

“The whole thing was a wonderful highlight,” he added.

Scroll through the gallery above for more scenes!

Tom Ford and Richard Buckley: Married!

Tom Ford married longtime partner Richard Buckley, the fashion designer revealed Monday.

“I lost so many friends in college … I would say more than half of my closest friends,” he said during an interview in London, per British Vogue.

“Richard, my partner of 27 years, had also gone through something also quite tough in his life. We are now married which is nice.”

“I know that was just made legal in the UK which is great; we were married in the States.”

Ford told Women’s Wear Daily he and Buckley first crossed paths at a fashion show. They went on three dates and were living together four weeks later.

The two welcomed their first child, Alexander “Jack” John Buckley Ford, in 2012.

While marriage may be seamless, parenthood has changed his lifestyle a bit.

“I used to spend most of my time at home naked, but now we have a child it means we have a nanny and so I can’t come downstairs naked and have a bowl of cereal in the morning,” Ford said.

“Before I had a child I literally took off all my clothes the minute I walked in the door.”

Congratulations to the happy couple, in spite of those fashion constraints!

Lacey Holsworth, Inspiring Friend of Basketball Star Adreian Payne, Dies from Cancer

Lacey Holsworth, the young cancer patient who befriended Michigan State star Adreian Payne and served as an inspiration for the entire Spartans team this year, has passed away.

She was eight years old.

Holsworth met Payne after she was diagnosed with neuroblastoma two years ago.

She proceeded to become a fixture at his games, helping Payne cut down the net after Michigan State won the Big 10 Tournament last month and sitting courtside last week when he finished third in the college slam dunk contest.

“Princess Lacey has achieved the ultimate victory,” reads a post from her official Twitter account this morning, confiring the sad news. “She now dances among angels.” For any business translation inquiries, contact Translation Company UK

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theduchessreturns · 2 years

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Weeks 1-3

Hello Mom, Dad, Jack, Angela, Jackson, Danny, Courtney, Maureen, Alex, Bennett, and Drew:

It has been 8 years since I studied abroad in London and boy has time flown! In some ways, 2014 feels a world away - President Obama was in office, Scotland held a referendum on its independence, "Happy" by Pharrell Williams was the song of the year, and "social distancing" was something we did when a random family member showed up to Thanksgiving.

Not only has the world changed since 2014, but our lives have changed. There have been new careers, homes, degrees, marriages, and of course, two of the cutest babies you've ever seen. For me personally, I graduated Amherst, moved to New York City, went to NYU Law, founded a bakery, passed the bar, started my job, and met a really nice guy in an all cash bar in Brooklyn.

And while, for all these reasons, 2014 feels a world away, a strange familiarity struck me as I joined the security line at JFK and looked down at my ticket. As I dug through old photos and found the one I was looking for, I laughed at just how much hadn't changed.

London 2014

London 2022

Before we get into the good stuff, we have to address the elephant in the room. Duchess - where is the old blog? As it turns out, signing up for Tumblr with a college email you lost access to 6 years ago was a bad idea. Unfortunately, the customer service agent I explained the situation to was less than enthused by my story (and equally unswayed by my royal title). For a trip down memory lane though, click here:

A short 6 hours after taking off from JFK, I Ianded in London Heathrow and practically skipped onto the Piccadilly line. Neither my 23 pound suitcase nor 2 hours of sleep could bring me down; I was back! Jake had landed a few hours earlier and made his way to his new (ultra-trendy) office in King's Cross. I opted to work from the Tin Shed (my favorite coffee shop) until it was time to check into our flat in Notting Hill. When we finally met up, we were smiling ear to ear, thrilled to be back together and in London.

New neighborhood

The next day, I ventured down to my office at 20 Fenchurch Street, affectionately known in London as the “Walkie Talkie building”. My firm set me up with quite the space, complete with free tea, snacks, and “sweeties”. They also filled me in on a sneaky back door entrance to the Sky Garden at the top of the building (think: Top of the Rock), which always had a queue outside!

Cahill office at sunset

After our respective workdays, Jake and I explored London together and discovered some great pubs (Churchill Arms, Duke of Wellington, The Cow, The Castle, White Lion), restaurants (Mazi, Sushi Atelier, Pizza East, BiBo, Gloria) and all around cool hangouts (The Ned, The Pelican).

Churchill Arms

The Ned

On one of my favorite post-work adventures, I snuck out of work a bit early to explore the Museum of Natural History and see the iconic townhouse from the Parent Trap.

Museum of Natural History

"I have class and you don't!"

I then walked to my new favorite pub, The Grenadier, which is hidden in a mews off of Knightsbride High Street (a "mews" is a small street, yard, or cul-de-sac, often cobblestoned). I sipped a glass of rosé and read my book until Jake joined and grabbed his first and last gin and tonic of the trip. It was the perfect evening (except for the gin!).

The Grenadier, a favorite of Prince William and Duchess Margaret

Our first Saturday in London was sunny and jam-packed. We grabbed breakfast in Notting Hill at JuiceBaby and ventured through Hyde Park to my old digs in South Kensington! My apartment in Courtfield Gardens brought back fond memories of my semester abroad, where I met some lifelong friends (hi Cailyn and Maria!).

2014

2022

After a photoshoot in front of the door and street sign, Jake and I hopped on the Tube to Borough Market and grabbed gyros at Gourmet Goat (one of our best meals in London). We then ventured back west to grab pints at The Churchill Arms and The Windsor Castle (two great spots) and dinner at Dishoom, a highly recommended Indian place in London. We split the Okra fries, Chicken Tikka, Raita Yogurt, Mattar Paneer Ruby, Garlic Naan, and Chicken Biryani, savoring every last bite. Dishoom is rumored to be coming to New York and Jake and I will be the first in line when it does!

On Sunday, we met up with one of my college roommates Meghan and her girlfriend Wa for breakfast at Boys n Berry in Fulham. We visited her adorable new apartment nearby (also a Mews) and were thrilled to have overlapped in London.

Jake, Meghan, Wa, and I

After breakfast, we grabbed a double decker bus to Wimbledon and met up with the Parker family! I was thrilled to reunite with them and introduce Jake to Phil, Shelagh, Lulu, and Sam. After an all-too-excitable catch up in the entry of their house, Phil and Shelagh drove us to visit Hampton Court, a favorite palace of Henry VIII.

Entrance to Hampton Court Palace

Not only is the palace breathtaking in its grandeur, but utterly fascinating to tour. We wandered through the Kitchens, Cumberland Art Gallery, Great Hall, Apartments, and Gardens (wow!), learning about the Tudor court, Henry VIII's reign, and the unfortunate fate of each of his six wives. Phil and Shelagh said they went to a music festival here, which would be worth a return trip!

Phil, Shelagh, Jake, and I in the Gardens

Jake and I in the Kitchens with hundreds of years of fires on display

As Shelagh explained, Henry was "quite pudgy" and it's not hard to understand why...

Henry VIII's version of PB&J on crackers

After Hampton Court, we returned to the Parker's house for dinner and drinks, trading stories of our travels (Phil and Shelagh had just been to Utah), lives (Lulu was finishing her masters and Sam had just released a hit song on Spotify), and the history between our families. At one point, I asked Phil about the first time he visited America and he explained that Poppy picked him up from JFK and drove him directly to a helicopter ride around NYC. The Coluccis proceeded to keep him up for 48 hours straight with trips to the diner, tours of Flushing, and a wedding (sounds about right). After hours and hours of laughter, it was time for Jake and I to venture back to London. We left their house full, in more ways than one.

Hampton Court Palace ended up being to perfect precursor to my night out to see Six the Musical, a modern retelling of the lives of Henry VIII's six wives. In true British fashion, Meghan and I grabbed pre-show pints and stood outside Theodore Bullfrog, a pub near the theater. We met up with Wa (who was venturing from her job in Richmond. Yes, THAT Richmond from Ted Lasso) and took in the show, which was fantastic! We grabbed a final final at a Heritage SoHo, which spelled like the Fondue restaurant in Mont Tremblant.

That week, Jake and I settled into our routine of working and meeting up after work to explore. On Saturday, we checked off an item of Jake's London bucket list - a Premier League football game. The process of getting tickets is quite complicated because there is no secondary market for them. But Jake managed to score amazing seats to the Fulham Bournemouth match on Saturday!

That morning, we woke up early and grabbed a quick breakfast in Notting Hill before venturing south-west to Fulham. We had a bit of a difficult time getting into a pub, as home pubs were members-only and away pubs required away tickets. After pleading with a bouncer that we were Americans with no real allegiance, we joined the buzz of fans in the King's Arms. A few pints, rosés, and orders of chips later, we walked through Fulham to the stadium. The stadium, known as Craven Cottage, is absolutely fantastic! It's the oldest stadium in London and filled to the brim with charm. I got quite the kick out of watching Jake go through the ticket entrance.

Jake in the Turnstile

We took our seats for the match and quickly realized we were right next to the away section. The Bournemouth fans were LOUD, boisterously chanting, mocking the "library" of Craven Cottage with "shhh"s, and throwing a series of middle fingers and F-bombs our way. It was hilarious!

Pitch

At half-time, the score was 2-1 Bournemouth and we joined the throws of other fans in the corridor of the stadium, which was right on the Thames. In the second half, Fulham drew a PK and tied the match up at 2-2. We had an absolute blast, singing “Come on Fulham!” all the way home!

Jake and I on the Thames in Craven Cottage

On Sunday, we picked up Jake's new Barbour (an early 30th birthday gift) and made our way to the Treehouse Hotel, where Aunt Nancy was staying for work. We grabbed breakfast in their rooftop restaurant, catching up on our first few weeks in London and her incredible job. In true Kiley / Colucci fashion, we talked for so long that the staff politely asked us for the table back.

Aunt Nancy, Jake, and I at the Treehouse

These first few weeks have been nothing short of fantastic and Jake and I feel so lucky to be here! Until my next post...

Cheers,

Maggie

and/or

Margaret, the Duchess of Kensington

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bananavehicle · 2 years

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To do this, you'll need a copy of Minecraft Java Edition, an archive program such as.

#How to make a minecraft texture pack 1.12 how to

Updated on July 5th, 2021 by Anastasia Maillot: Minecraft is still going strong even ten years after its release, despite a relatively simple concept. This wikiHow teaches you how to edit Minecraft textures and use them in-game on both Windows and Mac computers. Any zip archiver should be able to extract files from. The original textures are located in the game Java Archive file minecraft.jar. It focuses on the extraction of appropriate files from the game Java Archive minecraft.jar, their editing, and packing the newly created textures and putting them back into the game. RELATED: Weirdest & Creepiest Minecraft Mods The purpose of this article is to teach you how to create a custom texture pack. The Resource-pack designed for the Conquest Reforged Mod. With a list that ranges from cartoony textures to ultra-sleek modern designs, here are the 10 best and 10 worst texture packs currently available for Minecraft. A Little Taste of Jerm 1.12 - 1.14 57,876 Updated Created Apr 27, 2018. Mojang – the developers of Minecraft – have even revealed, that over 55 million players are logging into the game on a regular basis each month – that’s a lot of players potentially looking for a new texture pack for their game. Home Minecraft Texture Packs Trailers Texture Pack Minecraft Texture Pack. Having released in 2011, Minecraft has taken the gaming world by storm with over 122 million downloads across all platforms – it is safe to say that Minecraft is one of biggest selling games in the world. Before you begin downloading any texture packs though, be sure to download MCPatcher as it will allow you to run HD textures – which most texture packs now support - within the game. But as long as you downloaded the right release of the pack, you can ignore Minecraft's 'Incompatible version' warning. The best thing about texture packs is that fact that you can significantly alter how you wish your game to look based on your particular tastes. 2-Hellforged and the earlier version of Lycanites are NOT interchangeable, so read the version listed carefully. Duke Architect 2 years ago posted 3 years ago. While there is the option to create your own texture pack – whether it is a mash up of your favorite packs or simply with your own art – many players choose to use the easier method of downloading texture packs that are available online. Los Wellington Texture Pack for 1.12.x (UPDATE ) 128x 1.12 Realistic Texture Pack. Texture packs can even be used to turn Minecraft into a Martha Stewart simulator - or at least the closest thing to it. Is your Minecraft looking a little bit dull and boring? Why not spruce it up with a new fancy texture pack that can turn your old wooden house into a modern, sleek, contemporary home.

#How to make a minecraft texture pack 1.12

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napoleonic-sexyman-tournament · 10 days

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Arthur Wellesley

"So, I saw that you had no propaganda for the Iron Duke himself and thought that should be corrected, because I cannot let this man go unloved.

He is the ultimate sexyman. I don't really get that title or the requirements but I do know this man and he is the ultimate in Regency-era sexiness.

Now, please don't think badly of him for the lack of sexual fidelity. It was the Georgian era. Sexual fidelity was not a part of marriage in high society. Men didn't sleep only with their wives and some wives could be quite happy with that (for one, it's much easier not to have one pregnancy after another when your husband is sleeping with someone else). Not that women weren't also sleeping around. Which brings me to one of Wellington's more… interesting conquests: Lady Caroline Lamb, wife of William Lamb (the future Second Viscount Melbourne and Prime Minister). Why do I know that name, you ask? The OG pixie manic dream girl, Caro's much more notably known for her affair with Lord Byron. After that particular bit of nonsense, she was in Brussels with the rest of the English aristocracy during the 100 Days/post Waterloo. She and the Duke supposedly slept together and she took his cloak away as a souvenir.

Nicolas Charles Oudinot

a. “COLANDERS ARE SEXY THEY HAVE SO MANY HOLES”

#napoleonic sexyman tournament

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xiaq · 3 years

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(TW: sexual assault. Take care of yourself.) I won't be offended if you ignore this, or make your own post. I hope I don't offend YOU. But I'd like to hear your thoughts? RPF is abhorrent to me. I won't read it, even if it's an innocuous, 2 line appearance of Crosby so the fictional world is more real. It's putting words and actions into the mouths of REAL people. And to me the line is paper thin between that and the r*pe fantasy letter that Natalie Portman received as her 1st ever fan letter.

Firstly, I understand why RPF might make you uncomfortable and I’m not offended by your question at all. Keep in mind, these are my thoughts/opinions and I absolutely don’t expect everyone to share them, and that’s fine. So let's tackle a few things individually. 1. I think comparing RPF to that rape fantasy letter Natalie Portman received is a dangerous false equivalency. In one scenario, an adult man writes a terrible fantasy about a minor and then ensures to the best of his ability that the minor in question receive and read said fantasy without the ability to consent to its content. In the other scenario, (provided people are being responsible and respectful) you usually have an adult writing a fantasy for other like-minded adults. They do not want the person the fantasy is about to read or engage with it, and they use the available tagging and warning systems to ensure that people can consent, to the best of their ability, to consuming the story’s content. I know one of my friends who writes RPFs puts in all caps at the top of every fic she posts online something to the effect of “IF YOU FOUND THIS BY GOOGLING YOUR NAME TURN AROUND AND LEAVE.”

TL;DR I do not believe perverse power-seeking behavior that disallows consent can be equated to a genre of writing that, as a whole, usually ensures readers can consent to consume the content produced.

2. On the discomfort with “putting words and actions into the mouths of REAL people” thing. I think it’s important to remember that, historically, literarily speaking, some form of RPF has always existed. The Epic of Gilgamesh all the way back in the second millennium BC was a fictionalized version of (to our knowledge) a real Mesopotamian king. Nearly all of Shakespeare’s histories were fictionalized versions of real people and their exploits, and the Brontë sisters more or less role-played people who fought in and lived through the Napoleonic wars (the Duke of Wellington, for example) who were still living while they created these stories. As children, humans, in general, are prone to making fictional accounts of real people all the time. I’d wager that, at its base construction, we all do a bit of RPF writing, even if it’s solely in the privacy of our own heads, when we make assumptions about the humans around us and the parts of their lives or personalities that we do not actively see.

TL;DR I don’t believe anything is inherently wrong with RPF––in fact, I think it’s quite natural.

3. Now, I can understand discomfort over RPFs because they may feel like a divergence from more traditional fic about fictional characters. But I think it’s important to remember that the very concept of a celebrity involves a performative body. The public personas of celebrities are constructs, and those very constructs perhaps encourage fictional interpretations. I’ve never written RPF, but I believe it was @earlgreytea68 who said (and I’m paraphrasing, here) that RPF allows a degree of freedom that most fic does not because writers have a larger (or perhaps more empty) canvas with which to work. In a book or a TV show, a character often has a back story and explicit personality quirks, and the reader or viewer follows them home and sees who they are at night, alone, away from other people or when interacting with people they love. Obviously, we are not afforded this behind-the-scenes information about most celebrities, so an RPF writer essentially gets to make up their own character––their own ideas about who this person is behind closed doors/when the cameras are off––and superimpose those ideas onto a well-loved figure. Tl:DR Folks who write RPF are engaging in creative, fictional, writing, and I think, for the most part, they are well aware of the fact that their stories do not represent reality and perhaps prefer writing them because of the additional freedom of the genre.

4. All that being said, I do think it’s very important that RPF writers (and fic writers in general) are responsible and respectful in the way that they share their writing online. If someone writes an RPF and sends it to the real person in question, that is inappropriate behavior. If someone finds an RPF online and then takes it to the real person included in the narrative (despite the author’s clear intent to never share it with that person) that is inappropriate behavior. If a person posts fic online and does not properly tag it so readers can consent to their reading experience, that is inappropriate behavior. I feel these situations might be termed “abhorrent,” considering context, but I certainly do not think the very act of writing or reading RPF is abhorrent. TL;DR As long as writers share their RPFs responsibly, I support them and have no quarrel with them.

#RPF #fandom studies #discourse #fandom discourse #real person fiction #answered asks

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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years

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The Scots Greys and the turning of the tide at Battle of Waterloo

They never consider the situation, never think of manoeuvring before an enemy and never keep back or provide a reserve. They’re charging at everything!

- Duke of Wellington reflecting on the charge of the British cavalry after the Battle of Maguilla in 1812

The Duke of Wellington was never pleased with his cavalry. In Spain he condemned them for “charging at everything”, getting cut up in the process or finding themselves on a distant part of the battlefield, horses blown, at the very moment they were needed elsewhere. So at Waterloo the Iron Duke intended to keep the mounted arm on a tight rein.

It was, after all, the first time he would actually face Napoleon in the field, and the situation was not auspicious. He had been taken by surprise. He famously learnt of the sudden appearance of the French on the border with the Southern Netherlands (now Belgium) at the Duchess of Richmond’s ball in Brussels on 15 June. “Napoleon has humbugged me, by God!” The following day his Prussian allies were worsted at Ligny. Hs own troops, rushed forward to nearby Quatre Bras, were badly mauled. He was on the back foot.

But his capacity to anticipate setbacks paid dividends. Some weeks earlier he had chosen a piece of ground on which to make a stand if the French were to come. The ridge of Mont St Jean, a mile south of the village of Waterloo athwart the main road from Charleroi to Brussels. The ridge ran north-east to south-west for about three miles, two-thirds of which Wellington was able to occupy with infantry and artillery. To support these he would post two brigades of light cavalry on the left (east) flank and three on the right. Two brigades of heavy cavalry, including the Scots Greys or, as they were then more properly known, the 2nd Royal (North British) Dragoons, would be in the centre. And to each of the cavalry brigadiers, as well as to the Earl of Uxbridge (later Marquess of Anglesey), the commander of the Allied cavalry and his second in command, Wellington gave strict instructions not to leave their positions without his express order.

The Duke was essentially a general who preferred to choose his ground, make the enemy attack him and then use the superior musketry of his infantry to defeat them. He intended Waterloo to be just such a battle. In addition, for the first time he had the benefit of a strong force of heavy cavalry inclusing the Scots Greys – bigger men, bigger swords, bigger horses – to counter the French heavy cavalry or break up an assault that threatened to overwhelm his infantry. And, indeed, the charge of these two brigades, best known perhaps for Lady (Elizabeth) Butler’s 1881 painting Scotland Forever! depicting the Scots Greys galloping wildly at the French, would be one of the critical actions of the battle, even, some argue, its turning point.

The Scots Greys had been formed in 1681 from a number of independent troops of dragoons (originally men who dismounted to fight with the musket, rather than fight from the saddle with sword and pistol), and known as The Royal Regiment of Scots Dragoons. The “grey” of their later title may at this time have referred to their uniform, for it was not for a dozen years that this changed to red, and there is no record that the Scots Greys used grey horses exclusively.

However, when inspected by King William III (William of Orange) in 1693 it was noted that the Scots Greys regiment were all mounted on greys. Soon afterwards they were being referred to as the “Grey Dragoons” or the “Scots Regiment of Grey Dragoons”. In 1707, after the Act of Union, they were restyled “North British”, as the parliamentary union envisaged Scotland to be. Not until 1877 would their nickname be made official. They became the 2nd Dragoons (Royal Scots Greys), inverted after the First World War to The Royal Scots Greys (2nd Dragoons). They kept this title for 50 years until amalgamating with the 3rd Carabiniers (Prince of Wales’s Dragoon Guards) to form the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards (Carabiniers and Greys).

When Napoleon escaped from Elba at the end of February 1815 to begin his “Hundred Days”, the ill-starred attempt to retake the French crown and continue his imperial ambitions, the Greys were one of a number of regiments rushed to Belgium that had yet to fight “Napoleonic” troops. Indeed, by the time of Waterloo few Scots Greys had seen battle - and they were keen to make up for it.

Their moment came in the early afternoon of 18 June, when it looked as if Wellington’s line at Waterloo would break. The Comte d’Erlon’s corps of three infantry divisions, some 14,000 men, with 6,000 cavalry, assaulted the Allied left wing and centre, which was held by Dutch-Belgian brigades and Lieutenant-General Sir Thomas Picton’s 5th Division, the latter experienced Peninsular troops.

As d’Erlon’s men ascended the slope towards the sunken road that ran the length of the ridge left of La Haye Sainte, driving back the British skirmishers and reaching the thick hedge that fringed the road, Picton’s men stood up, formed into a four-deep line to guard against cavalry attack, advanced and began volleying.

However, the French deployed unusually quickly into line and returned fire. Picton himself was killed after ordering a counter-attack in language profane even by his own legendary standards, and soon his troops were giving way under the pressure of numbers. At two o’clock Napoleon appeared to be winning the Battle of Waterloo.

But Lieutenant-General the Earl of Uxbridge was a cavalry commander of genius. Earlier estranged from Wellington on account of eloping with the Duke’s youngest brother’s wife, he had been disbarred from service in the Peninsula after brilliantly covering Sir John Moore’s gruelling retreat to Corunna. But his cavalry coup d’oeil had not deserted him, nor his moral courage. Despite the Duke’s orders that none of the cavalry was to quit the ground it had been posted on without his express will, Uxbridge ordered his two brigades – the Household Brigade (1st and 2nd Life Guards, Royal Horse Guards and 1st (King’s) Dragoon Guards) and the Union Brigade, so-called for its English, Scots and Irish regiments (1st Royal Dragoons, 6th (Inniskilling) Dragoons, and the Scots Greys) – to charge in support of the hard-pressed infantry.

With a combined strength of nearly 2,500 sabres and led by Uxbridge, the heavies advanced. The Household Brigade was first into the charge, sweeping back the cuirassiers guarding d’Erlon’s left flank. To the Household’s left the Union Brigade surged through the lines of red-coated infantry in the sunken road, where some Gordon Highlanders grasped their stirrups to get at the French, and at the foot of the slope routed the two advanced infantry brigades of General Joachim Quiot’s division, the Royals, capturing the eagle of the 105th Ligne while Sergeant Ewart of the Greys, 6ft 4in tall and a master swordsman and rider, captured the eagle of the 45th Ligne.

Only two eagles were captured that day.

As with the Household, however, the officers of the Union Brigade were finding it difficult to rein in their troops, and the heavies lost all cohesion. With many casualties and still trying to reorder, the Greys now found themselves before the main French lines, their horses blown, though some galloped on to attack the guns of the Grande Batterie. This was too much for Napoleon, who had hitherto left the conduct of the battle to Marshal Michel Ney. He promptly ordered a counter-attack by two cuirassier brigades and Baron Jacquinot’s two Polish lancer regiments (a charge also painted by Lady Butler).

As Major-General Sir William Ponsonby tried to rally his brigade he was captured by Jacquinot’s men, whereupon several Greys galloped to their brigadier’s rescue but the lancers at once killed him and three of his would-be rescuers, who could do nothing to overcome the lance’s reach. The rest of the heavies might also have been speared or sabred had it not been for a counter-charge by Major-General Sir John Vandeleur’s light dragoon brigade and two of Dutch-Belgians from the left flank, who had also disobeyed Wellington’s orders to stay put.

The charge saved the remnants of the Household and Union brigades but their casualties had been heavy, including the Greys’ lieutenant-colonel, James Hamilton, who was killed. The official recorded losses for both brigades that day were 1,205 troopers and 1,303 horses, an extremely high proportion.

However, 14,000 French troops of D’Erlon’s corps had been committed to the attack on the Allied centre at a cost of some 3,000 casualties and irrecoverable time. It was four o’clock before they were ready to advance again, by when, with the Allied line holding along the ridge and Prussian troops beginning to arrive on the field from the east, it was be-coming clear that Napoleon had lost the battle, although there would be another two hours of increasingly desperate, bloody but futile French attacks before Wellington judged it the moment to signal the whole line to advance.

The Scots Greys would later incorporate the image of the captured eagle in their cap badge, and Sergeant Ewart would be commissioned as an ensign (second lieutenant) in the 5th Veteran Battalion of Infantry. The following year he was invited to a Waterloo dinner in Edinburgh, where Sir Walter Scott asked him to speak. But Ensign Ewart begged that he might be excused, saying, “I would rather fight the Battle of Waterloo over again than face so large an assemblage.”

The Battle of Waterloo, the culmination of more than twenty years of fighting in Europe and across the globe, was one of the greatest military defeats in history. Within a matter of hours it would not only result in thousands of deaths, but also in the destruction ofa well-experienced army.

The role that the Scots Greys played in the Battle of Waterloo was, perhaps something of a surprise. Although they had had a long and relatively distinguished history, having fought in many battles from the time of William III in Holland, the group tasked with fighting at Waterloo, the majority having little or no battle experience, proved themselves to be more than adequate on their day. Through sheer courage and determination they entered a bloody battle against all the odds.

Historians continue to debate whether the Scots Greys was the actual turning point of the Battle of Waterloo with as much vigour as they debate the late intervention of Blucher’s Prussians. Be that as it may it remains undeniable that the number of losses, in proportion to their numbers, was very high, yet the impression they made on the battlefield at Waterloo was, and still is, deep and forever remembered.

#scots greys #waterloo #napoleon #eagle #history #british army #war #military history #napoleonic warfare #britain #france #prussia #regiment #duke of wellington

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uomo-accattivante · 4 years

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The Dune trailer (1:37) releasing online on Wed., September 9!

Sources have confirmed to Inside The Film Room that the first official “Dune” trailer will be released online on Wednesday, September 9. The will come in the wake of a special, theater-exclusive teaser that is attached to screenings of “Tenet.”

A Canadian cinema employee shared the following details to ITFR. The teaser will run for one minute and 37 seconds and will give audiences around the world a glimpse of Frank Herbert’s classic sci-fi world through the eyes of Academy Award-nominee Denis Villeneuve (“Arrival,” “Blade Runner 2049”).

But wait… There’s more! Not only did our source confirm the teaser’s existence and Warner Bros.’ plan for marketing the full official trailer’s release, but they have actually seen the footage – and so have I. It’s nothing short of spectacular and a true tease.

*Teaser Spoilers Below, Scroll Down For Non-Spoiler Section*

It opens with gorgeous, custom WB and Legendary logos that fit the gold and black aesthetic the marketing material has shown so far. Then, it hops right into an iconic scene fans of the novel will immediately recognize: the Gom Jabbar test. This scene takes place early in the novel and is the focal point of this teaser.

Before traveling to Arrakis, Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) is introduced to the Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam (Charlotte Rampling). She asks Paul to place his hand inside a box that causes Paul to feel excruciating pain without physically harming him. The catch? He’ll die if he removes his hand. The Gom Jabbar is a lethal poisonous needle that Mohiam wears on her finger and presses against Paul’s neck during this test of his humanity, awarenesses and animal instincts. You’ll discover the reason for this test during his journey.

This is nothing short of stunning from a visual perspective. The set that Chalamet and Rampling sit in is enormous and circular, with beautifully ornate carvings in the walls and floor. Sunlight beams through a skylight, and the two characters are centered in the room. The Reverend Mother is wearing a complex gown. It’s almost terrifying how the black, netted material drapes over her entire body, from head to toe. She speaks with a taunting, almost mechanical voice, explaining the test to Paul – the poor boy is clearly in over his head.

As the test plays out and his fear and pain increases, the footage is intercut with a sweeping shot of Arrakis’ deep desert, with dunes as far as the eye can see. It’s exactly how you would imagine it. They’re bright yellow, and you can feel the sun through the screen. We also get quick, big shots of almost every cast member, making their faces obvious to viewers.

We see the door open on an aircraft and the Atreides men stand in their armor as the Arrakis sun shines onto them. Oscar Isaac looks absolutely regal and badass as Duke Leto Atreides. Rebecca Ferguson is hooded and smiling as Lady Jessica, and Duncan Idaho (Jason Momoa) makes a quick appearance wearing a stillsuit. We also see Javier Bardem’s Stilgar remove his face mask to speak to someone and Zendaya’s Chani climbing over rocks with a group of Fremen.

Some quick shots also include an ornithopter touching down in the desert and Paul stepping off. We also see Chang Chen as Dr. Wellington Yueh, Sharon Duncan-Brewster as Liet-Kynes and our first look as “Beast” Glossu Rabban Harkonnen, played by Dave Bautista. He looks almost painted white or covered in dust. There is also the quickest glimpse of a large character’s head emerging from a huge tub full of a liquid that had a similar color to Rabban’s skin. This character seemed to be Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgård), and it was a perfectly grotesque moment.

Throughout the teaser, the intensity of Paul’s test build and builds with each new cast member that is introduced, finally culminating with an epic closeup of Paul in the desert in a stillsuit, walking among Fremen. The score really comes in as the title reveals itself, and I am almost certain this is a piece from Hans Zimmer himself. It sounded like a cross between “Blade Runner” and “The Lion King,” with a good amount of drums mixed in with some ethereal, synth vibes. It perfectly fits “Dune.”

The teaser finishes with the title reveal, followed by a stacked list of every cast member that fills the screen from top to bottom, and a stamp that says “FILMED IN IMAX.” This film wasn’t captured with IMAX cameras, so this could mean they’re going the “Top Gun” Maverick” route of having their digital cameras certified by IMAX themselves. I’d expect expanded aspect ratios for at least part of the film, if not the entire film, when you eventually see it in IMAX. The images themselves look unbelievably crisp and almost surreal in a way that’s hard to put my finger on. I don’t know what exactly Villeneuve and cinematographer Greig Fraser did here (anamorphic lenses might’ve done the trick), but if these simple character shots look this good, I can’t wait to see the big and complex stuff.

*No Teaser Spoilers Beyond This Point*

It must be noted the teaser closes with the phrase “ONLY IN THEATERS,” but this is nothing new. Despite their upcoming films having official release dates picked out, all of WB’s recent trailers have forgone these dates in favor of highlighting the theatrical experience and keeping their trailers evergreen in the event of a delay — they won’t have to release a new trailer just because the date is wrong. I actually recognized this pattern last week with “Judas and the Black Messiah” and “Tenet” and predicted that the new trailers for “Wonder Woman 1984” and “Dune” would also go this route. The absence of a date is not any indication that “Dune” will be delayed; this is simply the new normal in a pandemic.

So, we know it exists, but when and where will this theater-exclusive teaser be available? That is a little less clear. In social media messages posted yesterday, both the Facebook and Twitter accounts for Canadian theater chain Cinemark stated “the teaser trailer for ‘Dune’ will be debuted in select Tenet screenings starting August 31.” Additionally, the Twitter account stated “Warner Bros. has pushed back the date for the ‘Dune’ trailer.”

But despite being rated and ready for theaters when Canada and countries around the world show “Tenet” today, WB has asked for Cinemark to withhold the teaser until next week. The explanation for this is likely two-fold.

Firstly, the trailer for “The Batman” made an earth-shattering splash when it arrived on Saturday and is still dominating social media conversation. I suspect WB didn’t want one of their babies stealing limelight from the other. Despite this teaser being exclusive to theaters, news of it (and bootleg footage, no doubt) would have been all over social media the remainder of the week. Secondly, the first screenings of “Tenet” in the United States begin on Monday. It is entirely possible that WB wanted to wait until domestic public screenings began before allowing the teaser to show overseas, as well.

The final impression that I will leave you with is that this teaser did not disappoint me in the slightest. Although the 1:37 runtime whisked by in a flash, I could not have been more impressed with the look of this film and the way Villeneuve and company are capturing the world of Dune. This will blow every previous adaptation out of the water.

With all the cast members getting shown off, the music, the designs and tease of the official trailer coming soon, this is truly Warner Bros. and Legendary flexing their muscles. They know they have something special on their hands, and they want the trailer debut for this event film to be an event all on its own. With the marketing to this point having been basically nonexistent, I have to admit some concern was growing in me. That’s all gone now. I have no doubt in my mind that the official trailer that drops online on September 9 is going to melt faces and blow minds.

The wait is almost over, everyone. The sleeper has awakened.

“Dune” is set to hit theaters December 18, 2020.

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#oscar isaac #dune #dune 2020 #denis villeneuve #timothée chalamet #rebecca ferguson #jason momoa #josh brolin #zendaya #javier bardem #stellan skarsgard #charlotte rampling #sharon duncan brewster #chang chen #trailer

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