#Jacqueminot

[detournementsmineurs]

Publicité pour la "Rose Jacqueminot" de Coty (1904) présentée lors de la "Masterclass sur la Parfumerie" par Régine Pasquet et Yohan Cervi - Spécialistes du Parfum - organisée à la boutique Infiniment Coty, dans le cadre des "Journées du Patrimoine", Paris, septembre 2024.

[apexious]

I love seeing people theorise on the just dancers names and their meanings but isn't it more likely that jack is actually named after the species of roses called "General Jack Rose", aka the roses that are a mix of both red and pink in hue?

GUYS

SO

I was telling some friends about just dance lore (always fun)

And Jack's name got brought up, so I mentioned how, yes, Jack Rose's name is just Jack and Rose from Titanic

And of course, @kings-out-of-pocket-hell had a GENIUS moment and said

"Maybe Titanic was Night Swan's favorite movie."

...

GUYS

[lemaldusiecle]

The grand duchesses's favorites perfumes, 1910s.

Olga, La Rose Jacqueminot by Coty.

Tatiana, Jasmin de Corse by Coty.

Maria, Lilas Pourpre by Coty.

Anastasia, Violette Pourpre by Coty.

[josefavomjaaga]

Being the son of marshal Soult ...

... may not always have been fun for young Napoléon Hector. Not only because growing up under such an overbearing personality could be considered quite challenging in the first place, but also because Soult senior, at all times of his career, had a real knack for making enemies all over the place. This was especially true for the last period of his life, that he spent as minister in the July Monarchy.

The July Monarchy, from my very layman perspective, seems to have been a compromise by its very nature: a bit of First Empire nostalgia for the bonapartists, a bit of constitution and parliamentary debates for the republicans, a bit of a Bourbon monarch for the royalists. And of course, as is always the case with compromises, everybody hated it.

On 13 May 1833, Marshal Soult, as minister of War, in parliament proposed some changes to the army administration: Conscripts were to serve for three years before returning to their homes and forming an army reserve that could be called upon in times of need. This proposal was vehemently critisized by the bonapartist party, namely one former colonel Armand de Bricqueville, who saw in this change a deliberate attempt to destroy what he called "regimental spirit", the lack of which in the long run would make the army nothing but an obedient tool in the hands of the government. (Which apparently was a horrible thing.) Bricqueville, you have to give it to him, managed to put into his speech every personal insult against Soult he could think of, from accusing him of trying to bring back the Restauration, of having supported the ultra-royalists, to having been the cause for the defeat at Waterloo, even hinting at Soult having betrayed Napoleon. Some excerpts:

[...] Ah, you're right, weaken the country's forces, because they're all against you! [Call to order] Break the national instruments, [...] bring about the Restoration, that is your task, and probably your goal! [Repeated call to order] [… About Napoleon’s army at Waterloo] Its leaders were tired of war and were no longer physically or morally fit to wage it. Staff were filled with traitors [...] The loss of the battle was mainly due to that inconceivable negligence that led to essential orders not reaching General Grouchy [...], which made everyone say that the victory would have been ours if Marshal Berthier had been the major-general. [Exclamations in the centre, Marshal Soult salutes]. Unfortunately, the man who replaced him had, in 1814, in the service of the Bourbons, mistreated the old army more than anyone else. [New exclamations] He had just become intimately acquainted with the Vendéens and the Chouans of Quiberon […] There are men who, in enemy territory, have made the French name abhorred by their exactions; I could name some who in their rout did not lose a single piece of the gold that victory had brought them; who, as friends of the fine arts, we must do them justice, brought admirable masterpieces to France, and finally brought back treasures on the backs of mules, but not a single caisson or barrel of cannon. [Murmurs]

The last part obviously alluding to Soult’s retreat from Portugal in spring 1809, but mixing it with the retreat from Andalusia in 1812 (that had been anything but a rout).

I guess the overall tone of that debate gets quite clear from those snippets. Interestingly, Soult actually seemed to want to answer, but two of his colleagues prevented him from honouring these personal insults with a reply.

And that’s where Napoléon Hector, the Marquis de Dalmatie, by now 30 years old, takes the stage. Because the next thing Bricqueville received (presumably after many congratulations from his bonapartist colleagues) was a challenge to a duel from Marshal Soult’s son. It was fought on 14 May, and the four witnesses (Clausel and Jacqueminot for Soult Junior, Exelmans and Bacot for Bricqueville) put this official protocol into the Journal de débats of 15 March:

The direct attacks of M. le colonel de Bricqueville against M. the marshal minister of war in his speech of Thursday 13 June in the Chambre des Députés, having made it essential for M. the marquis de Dalmatie to seek satisfaction, a meeting took place this morning in the Bois de Boulogne between these honourable adversaries, who chose the sword as their weapon, and began a fight which lasted more than ten minutes. M. de Dalmatie hit a stone and fell backwards. Monsieur de Bricqueville hurried to offer him his hand and put him back on the right ground. The fight started again. This time, M. de Bricqueville's sword, having become entangled in M. de Dalmatie's after a fairly long struggle, slipped out of his hands. He advanced straight towards his opponent, who eagerly gave him back his weapon. After a rest necessitated by such a vicious attack, the fight resumed; the adversaries rushed at each other and soon came to grips face to face. In this situation, the witnesses, who were, on one side for the Marquis de Dalmatie, Marshal Clausel and General Jacquéminot, and on the other side General Excelmans and Mr César Bacot, Member of Parliament, threw themselves between them and declared that, as men of honour, they should not allow such a stubborn engagement to continue. The two combatants submitted to this decision and went their separate ways, showing each other frank and loyal esteem. Paris, 14 June 1833.

To me this sounds a lot as if all four of the witnesses were mostly there in order to watch the two idiots stumble around a little and to make sure that nobody got really hurt. There are different reports about this incident, some even claiming that Bricqueville actually did injure the marquis de Dalmatie or that the latter was fighting in earnest. Anyway, the official report is the one above.

In how far Soult himself was behind or informed of the duel, I do not know. Gotteri seems to not mention this at all in her book, and Brun de Villeret at the time was not in Paris. Only why Soult himself did not make the challenge seems clear: He was already 64 years old in 1833 and rather not fit for hand-to-hand combat.

But this was not the only incident in which a dissatisfied officer expected the son to stand in for his father: a certain maréchal-de-camp Hulot d’Aussery (or d’Osery; a distant relative of one of Soult’s former aides) that same year asked for an interview with the marquis de Dalmatie and, as soon as he was received, challenged him to a duel, because Soult as minister of War had not made Hulot a lieuténant-général yet, as Soult’s predecessor Gérard had promised. Napoléon-Hector, presumably somewhat confused (he was neither involved in the affairs of the ministry nor was he even part of the military, but had become a diplomat) refused the challenge but promised to talk to his father about it. Soult senior sent one of his aides to Hulot who tried to talk some sense into him, but to no avail. (According to one anecdote, Soult did not take the whole thing very serious, telling Hulot: So sorry, but I only do duels with cannonfire.)

Disgruntled Hulot did not let it go. The minister of the Interior interfered next, telling Hulot to stop that nonsense. Hulot then sent two highly insulting letters to Soult junior, probably hoping Napoléon Héctor would feel offended enough to now accept the challenge. When both father and son Soult instead decided to sigh, shrug and ignore the whole matter, Hulot had the letters published in the republican journal La Tribune:

Marquis of Dalmatia, you are an insolent coward! Wherever I meet you, I will stamp your face with the seal of infamy! If life is dear to you, then live at this price...

Nope. Being the son of marshal Soult, probably not always fun.

[the-cricket-chirps]

Leonetto Cappiello

La Rose Jacqueminot, Coty

(perfume advertisement)

1904

[otmaaromanovas]

for those of you with a $500 to spare, a seller on eBay is selling one of the special reproduction perfumes that coty released in 2004 - this one just happens to be a replica of Olga's favourite perfume!

[gattoneropub]

Vintage Perfume Poster, El Perfume De Las Personas Elegantes, La Rose Jacqueminot Coty

Vintage perfume poster, El Perfume De Las Personas Elegantes, La rose Jacqueminot, instant digital download. Art nouveau perfume Poster, beauty advertising print for Coty  perfume this poster would make a lovely bedroom or bathroom wall art print. This vintage, art nouveau Coty perfume poster encapsulates the glamour of times gone by and features a red haired woman in a vibrant yellow long dress, inhaling the scent from a rose. The poster is carefully digitally restored by an artist remove any major signs of wear and tear and to refresh the original colours, retaining the vintage character of the poster. COPYRIGHT: For personal use only. You should not physically resell or digitally redistribute the artworks as originals nor as modified. WHAT YOU WILL GET You will receive a link to enable you to download a file with different ratio JPEG files. Each ratio file has high resolution JPEG images, 400 dpi which are ready for instant download and printing. Your link will expire in 14 days and you will be able to download the files 3 times. A 4x5 ratio file for printing 4"x 5", 8"x 10", 16"x 20", 40 x 50cm. A 3x4 ratio file for printing 6"x8", 9"x 12", 12"x 16", 18"x 24". A 2x3 ratio file for printing 4"x6", 6"x 9", 8"x 12", 10"x 15", 12"x 18", 16"x 24", 20"x 30", 24"x 36". An international paper size file for printing 5"x7", A5, A4, A3, A2, A1, 50x70cm. A file for printing 11"x14". Read the full article

[notesjournalieres]

6 janvier 1824

Mon cahier pour 1824 n’est pas fait : il faut que je me serve encore de 1823.

Je me suis dispensé cette année d’aller à la cour, le jour de l’an. Pourquoi aurais-je été présenter mon visage au milieu de cette ridicule ovation du Trocadéro. Je me suis dispensé d’envoyer des cartes quelle que part que ce soit. J’en ai aussi moins reçu que les autres années.

J’ai dîné vendredi, 2 Janvier, chez Etienne avec le colonel Jacqueminot et Saunier. On veut me porter au collège départemental de la Meuse, si j’échoue à Vervins. La chance est loin de présenter une certitude. Il y a là une intrigue ministérielle qui porte des Bassins, le beau-frère de Villèle, et au secours de laquelle viennent des libéraux assez prononcés.

Réunion le Dimanche 4, chez Cas. Périer. Chauvelin y pérorait. Transporté du calme de Pithon dans le mouvement de Paris, j’éprouve malgré moi le contact des autres, et je crois davantage à un succès d’élection très improbable. Je vais presque tous les jours chez Laffitte. Jeudi, jour de l’an, j’y ai conduit ma femme et mes trois aînés entendre une petite pièce jouée par les acteurs des Variétés. Ils se sont fort amusés. Ma Lise toussait et chaque fois que j’entendais sa toux, mon cœur était déchiré.

Le bon Hartmann a comblé mes enfants d’étrennes. C’est le seul bonheur de ce genre qu’ils aient reçu des étrangers. M. Hartmann n’y sera pas l’an prochain. Je veux en dédommager alors mes enfants. Lundi 5 janvier, je lis le fouillis emphatique de Salvandy. Mme de Duras l’appelle le solitaire en voyage. — Je ne fais rien, occupé que je suis à courir pour mes impositions. On m’a donné l’alarme en disant et répétant de toute part à Paris que je ne paie pas le cens d’éligibilité. J’ai peur que les ultras ne m’aient joué quelque mauvais tour. M. Clavier a été tracassé pour m’avoir délivré un certificat de contributions dans le mois de septembre.

J’ai dîné chez le duc de Vicence. Lui est bien maigre, bien attristé, ne rêvant que le tombeau. St-Aignan est d’une vive exaltation contre les ultras. Il y avait à dîner le Cte de Mercy-Argenteau, sa femme et sa fille. Le comte dit que le royaume des Pays-Bas est absurde. Il s’y trouve une seule administration et deux cours. Il faudrait une cour et deux administrations. Lady Parke, la femme de Bruce. Lord John Russel qui a fait la fameuse motion au dernier parlement relativement aux Bourbons. M. et Mme de Souza. Forbin qui met bien bas le roman de Salvandy. On ne parlait que du mariage de Mlle Gabrielle de Beauvau avec M. Talon, frère de Mme du Cayla. C’est Turenne qui a fait le mariage. On a cru être transporté au siècle de Louis XIV lorsque, ces jours derniers, le roi a dit : « M. de Turenne, je suis content de vous.»

J’ai été au soir chez Mme de Rumford. L’abbé de Pradt a bavardé le sacre de Napoléon. Il y avait aussi M. de Tracy, M. Gallois et M. Jamard. Il paraît que Léon XII est un grand chasseur et un homme de plaisirs. Aujourd’hui, Milleret m’a mené à Brie avec Nègre. Colot y est venu aussi. Beau temps et amicale réception. Le colonel Alexandre de Rigny va épouser Mlle Zéa. Si je n’étais pas un maladroit, moi aussi je marierais mes neveux.

[lovelylexis]

Jacqueminot

a variety of deep crimson rose.

[shotoria]

we are gonna find out whose jacqueminot rose is better

we are gonna have a 'jack' off

we are gonna find out which one of us is the biggest asshole

we are gonma have a 'jerk' off

[ariyadaivaris]

Subject: “What a debut!” Original Send Date: 2/4/2018

Dear Mr. ________,

Congratulations on your formal debut! I was most impressed with the way Mr. _____ introduced you to the audience. Being a member of the Universe comes with a sense of great pride and ownership and our division has always been the purest representation of that. This new beginning that was promised to them must be upheld to the highest standards!

I didn’t hear back from you after you left the building even though my secretary left you a message. Hopefully we are still on for coffee before next week’s events!  We have SO MUCH to discuss! I have an entirely new presentation on the ever-expanding platform that the Network has been offering to people in our industry! Why just look at the two of us now! All those years ago in the midlands, would you have ever thought it possible? I mean, I did, but times were different then! New platforms present new opportunities, not just for us, but for industry’s expansion and diversity!

Thanks again for your ongoing correspondence and cooperation! It is most appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed the bouquet! They were General Jacqueminots!

Yours Truly, Drew Gulak For A Better 205 Live

[sesamestreet47]

Bouquets

Camilo Madrigal x fem!reader

platonic!Isabela Madrigal x fem!reader

she/her for the reader & he/him for Camilo & she/her for Isabela

fluff with a little bit of angst

word count: 5522

!english isn’t my first language, so there can be some grammar mistakes that I am sorry for in advance!

MASTERLIST

@sesamestreet47

“Isa, I need flowers,”

Isabela jumped startled. She snapped her head towards the sudden voice but quickly calmed down once she noticed to whom it belonged. She faced her friend. “Oh, hi Y/N.” Isabela smiled at her and Y/N returned the gesture. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes though.

“Hi. I need flowers,” she repeated. 

If it was any other person, Isabela would get offended by the impatience. But it was Y/N. The girl that rarely showed any emotions with a face always adorned with a stoic expression. Isabela stared at her friend. The fidgeting with her feet and pulling on the hem of her skirt didn’t go unnoticed by the oldest Madrigal kid. She might not identify as Señorita Perfecta anymore, but she still had the ability to point out even the slightest changes in one’s behavior. That girl was nervous.

“You need flowers? What kind?” Isa asked, the corner of her mouth lifting a bit. She crossed her arms as Y/N pondered over her answer. Isabela decided to help her a bit. She opened her arms before the teen and soon all kinds of flowers grew from her palms. Orchids, daisies, tulips, poppies.

“No, not these,” Y/N said after examining the plants. She tapped her chin a few times, before looking back at the young woman. “Roses.”

“Roses?” Isa exclaimed. Her smile grew wider. She shook off the remaining petals and soon she was holding a beautiful bouquet of red roses. Y/N looked at each rose but shook her head unsatisfied.

“No,” she stated. “not this color.”

“Then what color do you need?” Isa sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose feeling the annoyance growing inside of her. She should’ve known better that it was going to go that way. No interaction with Y/N was ever a “straight to the point” one.

“I don’t know, I don’t remember what this type of roses is called,” Y/N shrugged, completely ignoring Isa’s annoyed state. “I think it was something like Jac… Jacquin?”

“Oh, you mean General Jacqueminots!” Isa exclaimed. “Hold on.”

The annoyance quickly disappeared as Isa took the red roses. She gently touched each of the flowers and soon their petals brightened a bit. The roses were now dark pink.

“There you go, amiga,” the woman said with a slight bow. She handed Y/N the bouquet. The girl took it and brought it up to her nose. The sweet smell filling her nostrils. She felt her cheeks warm up and she knew they matched the color of the roses she was holding. Gorgeous flowers, but it’s not like she expected anything less from the gifted girl.

“So,” Isa wondered, elbowing her friend. “who’s the lucky person?”

Y/N came back to reality. Her stoic expression reappearing as she looked at Isabela.

“Someone very special. Adiós Isa,” she stated and kissed Isa’s cheek as a goodbye. She rushed past the girl avoiding further investigation.

Isa stared at her figure. “I might have an idea who that special someone is,” she sang to herself.

“Señorita Isabela, could you make us some flower crowns?” a group of kids run up to her tugging on her dress. She looked at them, a few daisies blossoming from her palms. “Of course niños,”

—

Later that day, once Isabela finished all her chores, she spared no time in getting back to her house. She sprinted to Casita with a speed that put Antonio’s jaguar’s to shame. The house waved its roof tiles at her, but she was too excited to notice the greeting. She stopped in the middle of the house looking around. She panted out of breath, but was smiling nevertheless. 

“Hola, Cariña. What’s gotten into you?” 

Isabela turned her head and saw her father coming out of the kitchen. Augustín chuckled lightly seeing his oldest daughter in such an unruly state. It’s been some time since Isa stopped caring about perfection, but the messy hair and smudged eyeshadow, that sweat from running so fast melted, was a sight Augustín still found bizarre. He loved this new side of her though.

“Hola papi,” Isa breathed out. “Just looking for everyone else.”

Her father hummed and pointed at the first floor. “They should be up in the nursery. Do your mother a favor and tell them dinner is almost ready,”

“Thanks papá!” Isa shouted already on the stairs.

Without knocking, she practically stormed into the room making everyone’s heads snap towards her. She counted five heads. Just like her dad said, everyone was here. Spending time in Mirabel’s room became a frequent thing among the younger generation. They decided to catch up on all these years and bonding in the smallest yet coziest room in the house was the perfect way to do that.

“What’s up with you?” Mirabel asked with a raised brow. That huge grin on Isa’s face could either mean something really good or really bad. No inbetween.

“Oh, nothing.” Isa waved her sister off.  Isabela picked up Antonio and sat in his place putting the smallest Madrigal on her lap. These two weirdly became really close, so affection was a frequent thing among them. Antonio paid no mind to Isa, he just cuddled to her side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What are we talking about?” she asked, trying to sound casual. The rest of the kids looked at one another before shrugging it off.

“Just wondering when Mariano will propose,” Luisa explained. “Again.”

“Yeah, he already asked Dolores four times,” Camilo chuckled. Isa looked at her prima amused. Dolores smacked her lips. “I keep telling him it’s too early, but he just doesn’t get it,”

“I’ll bet he’ll have asked you again by the end of the week,” Mirabel said.

“Pfft, more like by tomorrow,” the shapeshifter scoffed.

Dolores put a finger to her lips making everyone shut their mouth and stare at the girl. She put a hand to her ear listening intensely. After a moment the girl sighed. “Camilo won,”

The said teen smiled smugly at his youngest cousin, who in return stuck her tounge out. Isabela coughed into her palm.

“So,” she tapped her fingers. “while we’re on the topic of love and couples and stuff…”

“What are you up to?” Luisa asked her.

“Nothing!” she said trying to sound offended, but the smile she couldn’t contain betrayed her. “I just had an interesting interaction with certain someone earlier today and I was wondering if any of you happened to receive some flowers? Per se… My dear primo over here?”

Everyone turned to look at Camilo who himself had a shocked expression on his face. “Wha-what are you talking about? I’ve no flowers,” he said, cheeks and nose pink. Once again, five pair of eyes looked at Isa. It started to look like a pendulum. Her expression fell slightly.

He’s just embarrassed and doesn’t want to confess. Isabela reassured herself.

Of course the flowers were for him. She couldn’t possibly think of anyone else. Y/N and Camilo were close. Closer than regular friends would be. Only around him did her stoic façade disappear. Her eyes would become more lively, her body language more relaxed and at ease. Her lips always curved into a small but genuine smile whenever he was around. It seemed that for Camilo that smiled reached her eyes, only for him. Isa rooted for the pair and she got the whole family to do so as well. Ever since Dolores heard Camilo say something that made Y/N laugh (thing that Isa deemed impossible) the flower growing girl knew her little friend had it bad for her primo. Isabela was a hopeless romantic. She loved seeing people in love, especially when they were people she was close with. Seeing Dolores so in love with Mariano was probably the start of her little love is in the air phase. Was it even a phase? Maybe the two lovebirds that was her prima and ex fiance had just awakened something in her that was always there. Just hidden deep. That’s why when she noticed the red cheeks and lovesick glances between Y/N and Camilo, she started growing daisies and pulling on their petals muttering to herself he loves her…he loves her not…she loves him…she loves him not, hopeful these two would finally get together. Her brain just couldn’t accept the fact any of them could have feelings for someone else.

“Okay, then…” she trailed off squinting her eyes suspiciously. “Oh, dinner is ready by the way.”

Isa stood up abruptly making Antonio yelp in surprise and fall onto the bed. Mirabel looked at her cousins and Luisa with a confused face. Everyone else just shrugged not knowing what was that about as well. They followed Isabela out of the room.

— 

“Ay, Camilo!” Pepa groaned at her oldest son.

He just slid onto a chair next to Isa, the one his mom wanted to sit on. Camilo just smiled sheepishly at his mother knowing she can’t get mad at him for too long. The woman rolled her eyes and sat on the chair next to him. The few small clouds that formed themselves above her head, fading away as her brother Bruno started telling her a story. Isa observed that scene with a confused look and mouth full of empanadas. She turned her attention back to her plate, but not for too long.

“Isa,” Camilo hissed. “What the hell was that in the nursery? With whom did you have an interesting interaction? What flowers?”

“It’s okay, primo. No need to be embarrassed.” she winked at him. Camilo cleared his throat.

“No, I don’t think you understand. I have no clue what you’re talking about. No one gave me flowers!” he said slightly annoyed. And slightly too loud. Everyone looked at the pair with puzzled looks on their faces. Camilo laughed awkwardly and Isa smiled nervously. The family hesitantly went back to their meals or conversing with the relative next to them. Isabela put down her empanada in disbelief. Did he really not get the roses? Then who did? Isa was so sure the bouquet was meant for her primo, it would never occur to her that she could've been wrong. Was there really someone else? But who?

“Are you sure? Like absolutely sure? ” she asked hoping that he was just messing with her. Knowing Camilo, he probably was. But her hopes were quickly destroyed as Camilo nodded.

Oh, no.

“So you didn’t get the General Jacqueminots? The dark pink roses?” she whispered looking ahead. Like she wasn’t asking but making the situation clear.

“No, what even are those?”

“Beautiful flowers, the meaning of mellow love,” she whispered, her gaze spaced out. Camilo blinked a few times leaning against the chair’s backrest. “And… Who asked you for those?” he asked, biting his lip in worry. He was afraid he already knew the answer to that.

“Y/N did,”

He lost his appetite.

—

It turned out that the situation with flowers wasn’t a one time thing. Y/N didn’t leave Isa alone for the next week or so. Every morning she would find her on the plaza, tap her shoulder making Isabela jump, ask for flowers and flee before Isa could question her. Same place, same time, same conversation. The only thing that differed was the kind of the plants. Y/N never asked for the same type twice. Each day Isa was tasked to grow a new bouquet. After the General Jacqueminots, she asked for Wild Pansies. Then Isa created a bouquet of Cornflowers. Next were Peach Blossoms. She also gave Y/N some Ivy Geraniums, Cedars and Gorses.

And when kids would ask her for flower crowns, she’d respond with “I wish, but I’m in a hurry niños,”. After daily interaction with Y/N, Isa would run back to Casita. She herself had no idea where that speed was coming from. Once home, she’d knock on the shapeshifter’s door and without waiting for an invitation she’d storm into his room. Camio realized she knocked to announce herself rather than ask for permission to come in.

“Jeez, Isa!” he shouted the first time she did that, visibly startled at the sudden appearance of his oldest cousin.

“She ordered Wild Pansies!” Isa breathed out ignoring Camilo’s annoyed expression. The boy covered his face with his arms groaning.

“And why are you telling me this?” he ran his hands through his locks.

“Oh, please.” Isa crossed her arms. “It's clear as day that you like her.”

Camilo pressed his lips together. “Not true,” he lied. Isa squinted her eyes and Camilo did the same. Their staring contest didn’t last long as Isabela’s sharp glare eventually made Camilo lose as he shifted into Y/N then himself, then back to Y/N and back to himself out of nervousness. Isabela grinned in victory. 

“Okay, fine,” Camilo muttered. “but it doesn’t matter. She clearly likes someone else.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m telling you what flowers she asked for,” Isa explained, but rolled her eyes when Camilo looked at her puzzled. “We’re gonna figure out who that is.”

The shapeshifter’s eyes widened in realization. He reached for a piece of paper and took out a pen. “What flowers did you say she got?”

Everyday Camilo would add a new flower, or a clue as Isa called them, to his list. Isabela then would tell him what each plant meant.

General Jacqueminots - mellow love

Wild Pansies - think of me

Cornflowers - hope in love

Peach Blossoms - this heart is thine

Ivy Geraniums - your hand for the next dance

Cedars - I live for thee

Gorses - endearing affection 

Every night Camilo would stare at the piece of paper before falling asleep. His mind was clouded with only one question that repeated itself on and on like a broken record. Who was this mysterious person that his Y/N, his luz de sol, fell for? Did he know them? Has he ever shapeshifted into them? Should he shapeshift into them? Maybe that’s how he could get her to- no. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

The longer Y/N’s request for flowers went on, the more Camilo became agitated and confused. He couldn’t stop pacing around his room waiting for Isa to come back from the plaza.

The next two bouquets Isabela grew, might’ve been her least favorite she ever created. Y/N asked for Moss Rosebuds and when she received them, she basically skipped across the plaza. Isa looked at her happy state. It was probably the first time seeing someone so content made her so sad. And if it wasn’t already bad enough, Y/N came back to the plaza moments later. Isa was surprised, she had yet to ask for two bouquets in one day. Isa felt the anxiety building in her stomach when Y/N told her she needed another batch of flowers. But that anxiety almost turned to tears as the name of the plants came out of Y/N’s mouth - Ambrosias.

This time Isabela didn’t run to Casita. She barely even walked there, it was really more trudging. She walked into her primo’s room with her head down. Camilo sat up on his bed alarmed knowing that didn’t make Isa a bearer of good news. Rather the exact opposite.

“Moss Rosebuds - confession of love,” she choked out. Camilo bit his lip preventing himself from tearing up and reached for the note as he didn’t expect Isa to continue. “and Ambrosias-”

“She got two bouquets?” he exclaimed genuinely surprised. Isa nodded with pressed lips.

“Ambrosias mean love returned,” she managed to say. “I’m sorry.”

Camilo didn’t come down for dinner that night.

—

“Isa,” Y/N tapped the girl’s shoulder. “I need new flowers.”

Isa not only jumped, but also screamed. A bunch of colorful daisies popped out on her head. 

“Y/N! How did you find me?”

That morning Isa didn’t go to the plaza as usual. She decided to relax in her makeshift garden. She promised herself that she’ll grow something herself, without the use of her powers. So far it was going splendidly. She watered the garden herself, without asking Tía Pepa for help. She carried the bags with fertilizer herself, without the help of her sister Luisa. And she took care of bugs and pests herself, without asking Antonio to talk to them. Most of the seeds she planted have already started to sprout. It was hard work, but so rewarding. Mostly because she was doing it for herself. No one - except Antonio and probably Dolores - knew about this garden that has become Isa’s happy place. That’s why seeing Y/N here, looking so casually, got her incredibly confused.

“Antonio said his hummingbird saw you here, so I came,” she explained. “I have another flower request.”

“No.” Isa crossed her arms and looked down at the girl with a stern look. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. She pressed her lips into a thin line. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean, no, I won’t grow any flowers for you,”  

“Why not?”

“Because you won’t even tell me who they’re for.” she pointed her watering can at her accusingly.

Y/N rolled her eyes and looked down. Her fingers found a loose thread on her skirt. Isa shrugged and turned her back to the girl, attention back on her garden.

“I can’t tell you,” Y/N said after a moment of silence.

“Then I won’t give you any flowers,”

Y/N sighed loudly, making Isa scoff. “Okay, fine. I’ll find some Foxgloves myself,” the girl muttered, turning on her heel.

Foxgloves? 

Isa felt gears turn in her brain. Foxgloves, foxgloves, foxgloves. She definitely knew the meaning of these particular flowers. Foxgloves, foxgloves, foxgloves. It was a different request, something was off, but what? Foxgloves. Foxgloves! Isa’s eyes widened in realization. Foxgloves meant insincerity!

“Wait!”

Y/N stopped in her tracks turning her head slightly, but still not facing the Madrigal girl.

“I’ll grow Foxgloves for you,”

Y/N blinked at that and then smiled lightly. Once again, the smile did not reach her eyes.

—

Another week of Y/N asking Isa for flowers went by, but this time Isa was more than eager to give her friend requested bouquets. There were times when it was Isabela who would look for Y/N, she just couldn’t wait to hear what plants she had in mind. It was ironic really. Isa was squealing with excitement when Y/N would ask her for flowers like Burdocks, purple Hyacinths and Primroses. Her smile couldn’t get wider when flowers like Lavenders, yellow Lilies, Mourning Brides and Peonies blossomed from her palms. After each new bouquet, Isa would kiss Y/N on the cheek, say her goodbyes and run off. Funny how the tables have turned, with Y/N now being left puzzled in the middle of the plaza and Isabela running before being questioned.

“Write it down, write it down!” she would shake Camilo’s shoulders, unable to contain her excitement. The boy would just swat her hands off, fix his ruana and roll his eyes.

“Dios mío, Isa. It seems that you’re more involved in this relationship than me,” he said on the one but last day of the week. He grabbed his note and pen.

“That’s because I am. You two have been dancing around each other for ages and now finally something is happening. Can’t let you screw it up. You desperately need my help,” she said, flipping her hair. Camilo threw his pen at her. 

“Just tell me the name of the flowers and get out.” he pointed at his note.

“Peonies - anger,”

And Camilo added them to his list. He looked at it and read it out loud.

Burdocks - touch me not

Purple Hyacinths - sorrow

Primroses - inconstancy 

Lavenders - distrust

Yellow Lilies - falsehood

Mourning Brides - unfortunate attachment 

Peonies - anger

And somewhere in the middle of town, Dolores muttered to herself. “This is better than tío Bruno’s telenovelas,”

—

On the next day, Isa strolled around the plaza awaiting her friend’s arrival. She was unusually late. So when she finally spotted her in the crowd, she walked up, not skipped, to her. Isa gently tapped her shoulder. The girl turned and Isa noticed a slight change in her expression. She saw the little shimmer of mischief in her eyes. Being eagle-eyed was sometimes a powerful skill. A thought crossed Isabela’s mind. That maybe there was more to this situation than it seemed. She shook it off and as always asked Y/N what kind of flowers she needed already preparing her hands.

“Yellow Carnations, please,” she said. “and Pennyroyals. Make it a mixed bouquet.”

Isabela stopped in her tracks. She should be happy, right? These flowers didn’t mean anything good, just like the previous ones. And the sooner Y/N and her mysterious partner break it off, the sooner her primo can grow the guts to make a move. But what about Y/N? She got so caught up in interpreting the flowers’ meanings and giving Camilo pep talks, that she forgot to think about her friend. Was she okay? Was she heartbroken? Was her partner that cruel? Whatever that couple was going through, seemed like heavy stuff. Isa knew Y/N was strong and never let anyone do her wrong. She also knew that her friend was an independent girl, she wouldn’t ask for help. Especially when she knew the Madrigals were needed by everyone in town. She would never ask for help with such a petty thing like a relationship. It was something she could deal with herself. But Isa also knew that she didn’t have to. She had people who cared about her and who wanted to help. Isabela was one of them. 

She gaped at her friend, worry present in her eyes. Y/N stared back. 

“Are you sure, amiga?”

“I am.” Y/N smiled lightly.

Isa saw that mischievous shimmer in her eyes again.

—

Yellow Carnations - disdain 

Pennyroyals - flee away

Camilo stared at the newest additions to his list with Isa peering from behind him. He read the names over and over again. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Isa asked.

“I don’t know,”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” the girl scoffed. Her cousin looked at her offended.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” he looked up at her. “You even sure that these are the correct meanings?”

Isa gasped, placing a hand on her chest. “Never question my flower knowledge,”

Camilo groaned and plopped on his bed. Face covered by his hands. Isabela sighed at his pathetic state. She sat next to him and took the note in her hands.

“Look, it doesn’t matter anymore who that person is. What matters is that she can’t be alone now,” Isa started. Camilo uncovered his face. “We both know that there’s so much going on behind that neutral mask she always wears. Someone needs to be with her right now.”

Camilo nodded lightly. Isabela was right. He stood up and turned to his prima.

“Isa, I need some flowers,”

—

“Isa,” Y/N walked up to the girl. “I got flowers.”

Isa faked a surprised tone. “You did?” Y/N nodded.

“Yeah, Forget-me-nots,” she explained pulling a small bouquet of blue flowers from behind her back. “I found them on my doorstep.”

Isa looked smugly at the blue flowers.

Forget-me-nots - true love and respect

“They’re beautiful,” Isa said examining the flowers. Y/N looked at her with scrunched eyebrows. 

“Of course they are, they’re yours,”

Isa’s eyes widened and she stepped back. Words got stuck in her throat. That girl. Did she have a gift as well? Reading minds or something? 

“You know?”

Y/N smacked her lips. “I do,” she pulled Isa by her arm. She leaned so her lips were close to her ear. “so for the last time, could you grow flowers for me, please?”

—

Isa, the hopeless romantic that she was, couldn’t keep the smile off of her face. She trusted her legs would take her straight to Casita, as she couldn’t tear her eyes off of the bouquet she was holding. Nutmeg Geraniums were resting in her palms. That day she wasn’t just the giver, but also the deliverer. Y/N asked her to give the bouquet to Camilo. An actual love story was unfolding itself right in front of her. She didn’t even feel any shame as a bunch of ideas for a novel title were crossing her mind. Isa was so glad that no one in her family had the ability to hear thoughts. Feeling the path under her feet get familiar, she fastened her pace. Walking through the door, she absent-mindly greeted her parents, who looked at one another puzzled. She walked into Camilo’s room, without knocking as usual, and handed him the flowers.

“Woah, why am I getting a bouquet?” he asked. Camilo’s nose twitched slightly at the overwhelming scent that filled his nose.

“It’s a response to yours,” Isa explained. “Nutmeg Geraniums - I expect a meeting.”

Once again, Camilo didn’t come down for dinner, but only because he was off to meet his beloved.

—

He didn’t have to think twice about where he’d find her. Y/N had this place, that she used to clear her head. No one knew about it, that is until one day she invited Camilo to join her. He felt so honored that day. Ever since they would meet up there when other people’s presence was just too overwhelming. Y/N cherished the time spent alone, but she preferred being alone with Camilo even more. Did that make sense? Not important. So that was where Camilo went, under the bridge between the village and Casita.

Just like he suspected, Y/N was there. Sitting by the shore, with her feet splashing in the water. He stopped mere meters away from her. His eyes scanned her figure. The faint light of the setting sun was illuminating one side of her body. Her hair glistened, her face got brighter, but at the same time, some parts of her got dimmed. Like she was being hugged by her own shadow. Magical view. She was magical, almost unreal. And that came from someone with magic flowing in their veins.

“Hi,” he said gently. Camilo sat down next to her. Y/N looked at him.

“Hi,”

“Everything okay?” he asked, his hand making its way to his neck.

“Oh, yeah. Splendid,” she responded.

That caught Camilo off guard. He swore he could hear her smirking while saying that. He looked at her and realized he was right. Y/N was in fact smiling mischievously.

“Wha- are you laughing?” 

His confusion jest grew more, as he saw her shoulders shaking a bit. Then he heard snickers coming out of her mouth. Oh, she was laughing all right.

“N-no,” she choked out, but then burst into laughter. “Okay, yeah. Maybe a little.” Camilo looked around. His mouth opening and closing, he looked like a fish out of water. Y/N just laughed more.

“Oh, god…” she wiped a tear. “I came up with quite a story, didn’t I?”

Camilo just got more confused if that was even possible. Then he noticed something on Y/N’s lap. Flowers. Not just any flowers, Ambrosias, Wild Pansies, Cornflowers, Peach Blossoms, General Jacqueminots. She was tying the stalks together making a flower crown. The girl followed his gaze.

“Yeah, I kept them. Wouldn’t want Isa’s hard work go to waste,” she shrugged.

And then it hit him. She was not giving these bouquets to her partner, because she didn’t have one. He facepalmed mentally. He should’ve known sooner. His sister not once did mention anything about Y/N being with someone and knowing her love for gossip she would’ve done that a long time ago. Y/N didn’t fall in love and break up with someone. She was just messing with him.

Just.

Messing.

With him.

What a jerk.

“Oh my god…” he whispered, eyes wide. “You’re cruel.”

“Aw, thank you cariño,” she cooed. Camilo tried to ignore the way his heart did a backflip at that pet name.

“You-you can’t just do that! You tricked me! You tricked Isa! Who does that?”

“Me. I do that,” she cut him off. “Relax, consider this me paying you back for all the pranks.”

Camilo opened his mouth to respond, but Y/N covered his mouth with her hand making Camilo blush even more. She placed the finished flower crown on his head and nodded satisfied.

“Pretty,” she breathed out. Camilo felt the anger disappear, he was still a little disappointed though. 

Camilo’s eyes fixed themselves on the girl next to him. He stared at her hands that were toying with the remaining flowers and petals that fell off. He took a deep breath in and coughed to gain her attention.

“So, you’re not heartbroken?” he asked awkwardly when she turned to look at him.

“No,”

“And no one actually received the flowers?”

“No. Well, you did, just now,”

“And you’re not in love with anyone?”

Y/N took a second to respond to this. “I am.” she looked to the side but pointed at the flower crown. Camilo’s cheeks were probably redder than Dolores’ skirt by now. He bit his lip, but a little smile made its way to his lips.

“I’m not good with words, you know that. So I tried something else. I know Isa was rooting for us, hence the flowers. But you wouldn’t like that unless there was a little bit of messing around,” she explained after a minute or two.

“You call that a little bit?”

“Sorry,”

“Jeez and I was taking notes like some dumbass,” he pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“Let me see. I wanna know if you got them right.” she scanned the note. She stopped at Ivy Geraniums. “Oops.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know that’s what they meant,” she deadpanned. “I must have mistaken them for Roses Geraniums.”

“And what do those mean?”

“Preference? I think.” the pair looked at each other before bursting into laughter. 

After calming down, Camilo reached his hand across Y/N’s lap. Not noticing the pink hue that adorned her face when he did so, he picked up one of the flowers.

“Well, just to be clear… Here.” he handed her a single Ambrosia with a smug look. So proud of himself for remembering the meaning of the flower. Y/N took it and used it to cover her face that was now way redder. A lovesick grin made its way to her lips.

“Okay.” she giggled stupidly. Oh, he finally got her flustered. Camilo absolutely loved that, that power he had now. She often took off her mask, that stoic façade, when around him and Camilo considered that luck. But now, now that he knew he was the only person she showed her true colors to, he would say it was a blessing. 

“So,” Y/N picked up one flower and stood up. “May I have this dance then?”

She offered him her hand that was holding a single Ivy Geranium. Camilo grinned and accepted it. He wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him. He took the flower and put it behind her ear. His eyes not once leaving hers. Camilo felt his heart skip a beat, when he saw Y/N shyly lowering her gaze to his lips. She leaned closer then leaned back a bit. So he decided to take the initiative and close the distance between them. Pulling her by the waist with the help of his other hand, he placed his lips on hers. And when he felt her kiss back, he almost started shapeshifting out of excitement.  But he didn’t because that’s how she worked on him. She took off her mask when around him and he didn’t feel the need to put one on. Not once when with her did he feel like he needed to be someone else. Y/N was his escape from the life of the boy with thousand faces.

After breaking off the kiss, Y/N looked at him smiling and hid her face in the crook of his neck. Her warm breath tickled his skin. Camilo chuckled lightly and started swaying side to side humming a soft tune. They stayed under that bridge for a long time. Various petals falling over them, almost as if dancing with them.

And a little bit further away, two girls stood at the patio of Casita. One with her hand next to her ear and the other growing daisies on her head out of impatience. When Dolores told Isa everything that just happened, the girl jumped screaming. She tightly hugged her prima, making Dolores yelp. 

“Am I the best matchmaker or what?” she asked smiling widely. Dolores rolled her eyes amused. 

“You sure are,” she responded.

—

“I should thank Isa for the help, right?”

“I guess so,”

“Should I give her some flowers?”

“You’re hilarious,”

MASTERLIST​

@sesamestreet47

[detournementsmineurs]

Et en face de l'Hôtel Hilton Paris Opéra dans la nuit cette improbable ancienne brasserie alsacienne "Au Roi de la Bière" construite par l'architecte Chausson puis surélevée et remaniée par l'architecte Paul Marbeau pour le compte du restaurateur Jacqueminot Graff (1892), coincée aujourd'hui entre deux immeubles hausmanniens et devenue... un McDonald's (1998).

[annalaurendet70]

Coty was founded by François Coty in Paris in 1904.

•Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna Romanova of Russia.

Fragrance La Rose Jacqueminot perfume for Women by Coty was released in 1906. Aroma highlighted by a bouquet of fragrant citrus, fresh and fruity scented tones that will bring a romantic, fresh and sensual perfumed sensation. Examining it closer once applied you will notice a lingering quality of softer fragranced floral, woody and powdery hints that hide an essence of passionate feelings.

•Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna Romanova of Russia

Jasmin de Corse was launched in 1906 and is an indolic jasmine fragrance with smoky undertones named after Corsica, Francois Coty's birthplace.

Notes: Cassie, neroli, jasmine, orange blossom, orris, civet, ambergris, ambrette, benzoin.

•Grand Duchess Maria Nikolaevna Romanova of Russia

Lilas Pourpre was launched in 1911. Lilas Pourpre translates to Purple Lilac and according to the box, the perfume combines the flowers and leaves of the lilac plant in its bouquet.

•Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova of Russia

Violette Pourpre

📌 The information on tbe favourite perfumes of the Grand Duchesses was told by Empress Alexandra Feodorovna's friend, Yulia "Lili" Von Dehn.

[papirene-royzn]

Jacqueminot Roses Two by Martin Johnson Heade.

[heaveninawildflower]

1) Stove Plants ( Allamanda schottii, Stephanotis floribundia )

2) Vanda tricolor var; Vanda insignis Helveola, Vanda tricolor formosa, Miltonia spectabilis

3) Thrysacanthus Schomburgkianus, Dendrobium nobile

4) Phalaenopsis grandiflora, Correa cardinalis

5) Roses, Souvenir de la Malmaison (Bourbon), General Jacqueminot (Hybrid perpetual)  

6) Pompons Chrysanthemums, La Gitana, Trophée; François I, Florette

7) Weigela rosea, Lapageria rosea (or Chilean bell-flower)

8) Lilies, Lilium lancifolium album and Lilium lancifolium roseum

9) Compholobium splendens, Hemiandra pungens, Grevillia elegans

10) Camellias, Augustina superba and Caryophylloides

Illustrations (after Augusta Innes Baker Withers) to Thompson's 'The Gardener's Assistant’. Published 1859 by Blackie & Son. Hand-coloured etchings.

Images and text information courtesy British Museum.

© 2017 Trustees of the British Museum