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anotheruserwithnoname · 1 year

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Victoria - 4 years on

Today (May 12) marks the fourth anniversary of the first UK broadcast of the 3rd season (and possibly series) finale of Jenna Coleman’s Victoria in 2019. It’s amazing it’s been so long!

Of course Jenna has gone on to other work. As the season was finishing up on ITV, she was co-starring in a West End revival of All My Sons. A few months later she’d be in Thailand shooting The Serpent. Then of course C19 arrived (hard to believe, less than a year after Victoria aired!), and after a pause Jenna ended up in The Sandman, Klokkenluider, and other projects.

Is Victoria finished? Wikipedia’s page has it as cancelled, citing a statement by ITV dated from 2021 that there were no plans for a 4th season. I recall one article saying further production was unlikely due to C19 (which would technically put Victoria in the same company as GLOW and a few other series ended due to the pandemic, even though most other shows continued production). Daisy Goodwin, the show’s producer and writer, posted on Instagram sometime in 2019 that she’d written scripts for Series 4. And, of course, Series 3 (spoiler alert) ended on a cliffhanger.

There’s still hope that the show might return, perhaps as a one-off special. Yes, Jenna and Tom Hughes are no longer a couple - but there’s certainly precedent for exes to continue working together in TV and film, so that’s not necessarily a barrier. There’s certainly no time limit involved - Jenna could return to the role later in life quite easily (much as Judi Dench has done); in real life, Albert didn’t die for real until a decade or so after the events covered in Series 3.

But the fact remains Jenna has moved on. Maybe not into something ongoing (even Sandman S2 might only entail another one-off story, she won’t in in every episode, and The War Rooms is looking to be the TV equivalent of vaporware), but being tied to a TV series might have prevented her from taking on things like Jackdaw or the Lemons play - or whatever she might be doing next. She probably has no burning need or desire to return to Victoria (maybe not to the same degree she appears to be disinterested in reprising Clara Oswald), other than maybe the fact the series leaves viewers hanging so it’ll always remain a bit of “unfinished business” in that regard.

Her co-stars have also moved on. Nell Hudson is now a novelist; Margaret Clunie has been doing mostly independent films; Tom has been in several TV series and movies over the last couple of years.

But what we did get were 3 seasons (plus a Christmas special) of surprisingly light-hearted romantic drama, Vicbourne, Vicbert (I forgot the ship name), Jenna in nearly every scene, plus some great co-stars including Margaret and Nell, Rufus Sewell, and of course fellow Doctor Who-franchise veterans Tommy Knight and Eve Myles and, lest we forget, Diana Rigg also popped in for a visit when she wasn’t poisoning Joffrey Baratheon! LOL! I miss the show but am thankful we got what we got!

#jenna coleman #queen jenna #victoria tv series

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slvt4lanadelrey · 10 months

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Prom Queen | part two | Lorraine Day |

Warnings: Nick.

Part one | Prom Queen

Kissing Lorraine was like kissing a sugar cube, it was sickly sweet. With the most innocent of touches, the purest of words you were hooked; and she was fleeting. The kiss was sweet, something that played like a broken record in your head each second of the day. You would be helping your mother, something to do with your soon to be sister in law's wedding and the strong aroma of vanilla would invade your scenes; deteriorating you from your work. You would be knocked back into the music room, Lorraine feverish lips locked on yours.

A smile wormed its way on your face, sweet like cinnamon; she was a dream, a vitamin that helped your body.

"What's got you all merry?" Your mother asked, smiling with a cigarette between her lips. You shrugged, face blazing a deep crimson. How could you explain how your heart pumped for a girl, someone who would sneak into your heart each night to whisper promises that they made sure to keep like a vow. Lorraine, Lorraine Day was the one who made you so merry; you were a fool, a dumb and inlove girl for someone they couldn't have, how cliche of you.

"I know that look, pumpkin, you're in love." Your heart sank, feeling a bead of sweat dripping down your neck. You gulped, shuffling to avoid eye contact with the siren that lured you in with her warm voice.

She was your mom, the woman who gave birth to you and even if she didn't always show it in the way you'd like; she loved you, and would do everything in her power to protect her own.

"Come on, Y/N, is it Nick?" Your teeth dug into the tender flesh, pressing down until the layer of skin pulsated around your canines.

"No." You shamefully mumbled, blood running through your body like a sizzling fire. Gasoline dribbling throughout your system, then you threw a match stick and watched as everything was set aflame.

Your eyes sparkled, immediately thinking about the brunette that held your heart in such a way you weren't sure whether God did exist, how could such a creature with so much power and love to give out; condemn you and Lorraine into a path full of half sided, secret, unsure love. A fight worthy of war, the ongoing argument between people that slowly crept into society; you loved a girl, and there wasn't a single slither of shame in your body when it came to admitting such a fondness towards Lorraine, but to other people? You were a nervous wreck, constantly on the edge of insanity at the thought of someone knowing your heart.

"No? Then who is it, I ain't heard nothin' about another boy." She plucked the cigarette from her lips, milky smoke gasping into the air; filtering around her head like the sunlight that shun upon her. Her eyes landed on yours, searching for something that ticked you.

"It's not a boy." Your face drained of colour, a cold flush washing through your body at a speed that sent you shivering. Your hand reached out, sliding into your pockets.

"It's about a girl?" Your mother tilted her head, leaning her face into the open window to let out the smoke. She thought for a moment, breathing into the fogged window.

"You don't like Nick?" She asked, not once accusing you of something so vial, so sinful. Realisation drew on her face, her features relaxing when she glanced back at you again.

"Hope she's worth it." Was all your mother said before flicking her cigarette out the open window, she took a moment to look you back in the eyes.

"Don't get yourself killed, Y/N. I won't bury my youngest daughter for something as foolish of loving who she wants." Your mouth dropped, hands reaching out to grab ahold of her. When your digits wrapped around her wrist, tugging her into your grasp she looked at you with wide eyes.

"You don't care? You don't care that I'm not…I'm not something you thought I was?" Fear crept, slowly dragging its finger across the torn wallpaper, whispering sickly through the thick atmosphere of fearful thoughts. You're not good enough, the voice of reason screamed at you, howling through your prison like mind.

"Why would I care? I married someone who never loved me, you love someone so much you are honestly willing to stand up to a town full of bigots. I'm proud if anything." She cupped your cheek, wiping away the single fallen trickle of tears.

"You've always been brave, pumpkin."

You didn't move, not when she left, not when other people filtered through your house, not when your brother called. You were stuck in time, permanently stuck in a state of shock.

Your head was tilted backwards, the grasp of an unknown presence pouring molten lava into your locked shut jaw. It sizzled, blistered and ultimately left you unable to ever open your mouth.

Then, you were being pushed over. Your head rested into the small wooden gap, big enough for someone's head. A man, much taller and stronger than you walked over and slammed their axe into your neck with a clean slide.

The result of loving someone, I guess.

"Are you okay?" Leon nudged you, flicking a piece of food from his plate at you. Your glossy eyes flooded with sorrow squinted before landing on the boy in question.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" And just like that you were pushed into a brain-numbing conversation about marriage. Your mother would shoot you glances, each time your father and older sister would mention Nick.

Relaxation wrapped around your body like a warm blanket. Lorraine was standing in front of you, smiling like you were the only painting ever worth watching. Her dimples hollowed on her cheek, talking to someone next to her with a song worthy voice; silky soft, plush for the damaged ears.

She was a melody, a symphony that only you were able to listen to. Just like how birds chirping in the morning lust would lull you awake, already smiling for the day; Lorraine had that same affect, the same way to hush your body into a sense of comfort that ultimately caused ruffles within your picture perfect family.

Like a broken record, Lorraine didn't fit into your Palace of perfection, she was a distraction; chaotic one at best. She made you yearn for more, she made you seek a better life; one only she could provide.

Whereas, Nick was willing to settle. He'd probably buy a sweet little ranch, one nice enough to raise a family but one slow enough that it wouldn't cause too much distraction.

Torn, like a tug of rope, you were stuck. Love never doubted your mind, never once had you questioned the undeniable love and the way you were positively smitten for Lorraine. Never once had Nick made your heart skip, not with his blue eyes, chiselled jawline, not even with his jock-like ways: which had the rest of the girls swooning, dropping their panties within moments.

No. Nick wasn't your thing, he wasn't your taste, certainly not your liking. All of that love, bitter sweet devotion was all dedicated to one person; Lorraine Day, herself.

"Are you ready?" She offered her smile at you, hands wrapping around her backpack straps. She rocked on her heels, like she was scared you'd deny her. You had planned to meet up with her before the long weekend, a weekend your family had dedicated to getting to know Nick on a more…family level.

Just like every affair, every plaguing secret that would turn even the purests of air toxic within a single breath. Lorraine had been captured, sucking the life out of you with each love sick words she'd praise into your ear. Whilst Lorraine enjoyed every moment of your time together, knowing it had an expiry date, she was at peace with pressing feather light kisses along your cheek. You on the other hand was seething, jaw turning inflexible at the thoughts that somehow tainted your mind even though Lorraine was all over you.

Lorraine pressed her lips down on yours, her hands gripping so tightly around your waist. She didn't care, she didn't mind that you'd never be able to call her yours in public, that the claim over who you deserved; who you belonged to will always be held with Nick's name. You were there, she was pressed into yours; everything was fine, especially when you let out a small whimper at her brutal force.

You didn't hold the same sentiment. You hated it, it left a permanent tang on your tongue each time you were forced to remember Nick. It ached to kiss Lorraine, it left a yearning feeling in your heart when you'd call out for her and she wasn't able to answer. You were friends in public, and devoted lovers in private; but that would never satisfy your needs, I'd never clench the thirst you'd have for Lorraine each time you would lay your eyes on her. A drug, a small trickle of nectar that trailed down your throat whenever she'd whisper your name.

Mine, it repeated in your head. You were selfish, famously so. You had a boyfriend, one that wasn't that bad in reality; he listened when you said no, bought you gifts, sent flowers if you were unwell. But Lorraine would travel through trenches in order to see you, she would buy every florist out if that meant any health would be regained in your body, she would forget about the baggage you carried on the daily; all in order to be able to love you, small love, quiet and devoted love. Pure and honest, love and enchantment.

"I love you" no amount of words would cover up the sin, the blinding fact that suffocates your thoughts. Nick was expecting you in less than half an hour, he would want to hold your hand and hear the words you had solely promised Lorraine you'd only tell her.

It made you sick, how could you possibly love someone when you knew you were causing them pain?

Lorraine wasn't like other people, she was patient, more than okay with waiting. You were the problem, like every other situation; you weren't happy, so you had to isolate yourself.

"What's wrong? You've gone stiff on me, again." Lorraine mumbled, her lips never parting away from your skin, so when she talked it vibrated against your flesh. You chuckled at the feeling, wiping away the salivate trail across your neck.

"I have to go." You mumbled into the kiss, parting it with a slight whine. She was just too comforting, a memory of a teddy you slept with throughout your earlier years in life. She smiled, nuzzling her head into your shoulder.

"I'll miss you, try and have fun." She was perfect, the actual oxygen you breathed in everyday.

Even though you were about to spend three tortuous days with Nick; someone she hated. Lorraine was still encouraging you to have fun, enjoy the weekend she knew you two weren't able to have together.

Part of her happy mood was that she got to see you before you left, that you promised that when you were going to be laying beside Nick you would be thinking about Lorraine; and secretly dreaming about how good she kissed.

"I can't let you go." You declared, clinging onto the girl with all your might. Your eyes wandering into hers, the silky liquid gold pouring down on you. She was heaven, so nicely wrapped up in a small frame with big brown eyes you're fortunate to look into most days.

"It's just three days." She tried to pry your arms off her, wiggling out of your grasp was harder than it appeared.

"It's 72 hours, how tortuous." She giggled, once again connecting your lips.

"Indeed."

"I'll miss you" like a parrot you repeated your words, fingers still locked with hers.

"I love you." She muffled her words, lips once again meeting yours with a quick haste.

She loved you and as God witnessed, you loved her just as much.