#nail glacé

[chicinsilk]

Harper's Bazaar June 1958

Tan Arnold wears a pink swimsuit held up by a single strap. Swimsuit designed by Givenchy forJantzen, in Celanese acetate, Lastex and nylon. Mr.john's large parasol straw hat under a pink swimming cap. “Watteau Rose” lipstick by Juliette Marglen, matching Nail Glacé.

Tan Arnold porte un maillot de bain rose retenu par une seule bretelle. Costume de bain conçu par Givenchy pour Jantzen, en acétate Celanese, Lastex et nylon. Grand chapeau de paille parasol de Mr.john sous un bonnet de bain rose. Rouge à lèvres "Watteau Rose" de Juliette Marglen, assorti à Nail Glacé.

Photo Louise Dahl-Wolfe

[elsaellaelys]

Cupcakes for Breakfast

Kinktober

summary: JJ and Y/N get distracted with the incing while decorating cupcakes.

933 words

WARNINGS: 18+, food play, really kinky.

pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

a/n: I know it's Sunday, I'm sorry. Promise I'll be post earlier next week. Hope you enjoy however. <3

--★--

JJ was still asleep when Y/N came back from the market. Sure, it was 8 am., she would be asleep still if she wasn't craving cupcakes that much. It was a necessity, didn't even knew where it came from, she just woke up to cuddle more into her boyfriend's arms and it clicked in her mind. Now the kitchen counter was full of with flour, milk boxes, food coloring, eggs shells and butter.

JJ's sleep got impossible to keep with all the noise coming from the kitchen, cake mixer and the constantly fall of things on the floor. At first, he was pissed, but he could never get mad at her, when he entered the room and saw his girlfriend all covered in flour, she smiled widely for him, lifting the cupcake pan with her glove.

"Look! Cupcakes!" They were fresh out of the stove, the smell of vanilla was indescribably in the air, he approached ready to grab one when she slapped his hand.

"No. Eating. Now. We have to decorate first." Y/N scold him, turning around to find the incing.  "Plus, they're hot."

"Hmm." he annoyingly hummed. His eyes followed her actions, watching her dress lift when she crouched, she turned around catching him staring, her strawberry patterned apron.

"What?" she laughed, putting red color into the chantilly inside the plastic cake decoration bag. JJ shrugged, hands stroking the skin of her arms as he hugs her from behind.

"I was just imagine you, lying on your back on top of the corner, with only this apron on."

"JJ!" she yelled, but didn't denied when he started to slide the strings of her dress down her arms, peppering kisses along her skin. Y/N sight at the feeling. The dress fell to her waist and JJ smiled against her skin seeing she had no bra on, he cupped her breast, pinching her nipples, she gasped, hips bucking towards his growing boner. Slowly her dress pool at her bare feet, she kicked it along with her panties.

She turned around to meet his lust brilliant blue eyes, JJ kissed hardly her mouth, toungues already mixing, founding the incing behind her with his hands, he pulled away, feeling his dick throb just with the pleasing look of her eyes.

"Open this pretty mouth for me, uh?" Y/N did as he asked, tongue out a little, she stared at him, JJ sprayed glacé on it, smirking before licking it off, over and over. God!  It felt like he reached the ultimate pleasure of making out with his girlfriend, really filthy, but he was sure it tasted like heaven. Vanilla flavor spread on their mouths. Y/N didn't wanted to break the kiss, but she did, taking the bottle and covering her breasts with the incing.

"Naughty girl." he laughed, already going down to her chest, teasing her nipples, sucking hickeys, wiping the sweet with his tongue.

"Fuck, Jay." she moaned pulling at his hair. There he couldn't hold it slow, sliding off his shorts he came back to her mouth. She felt his chest with her hands, traveling them through his body and he did the same, quickly going to rub her clit, she was so wet it could drip on the floor.

"Fuck me, please, now." she begged.

"Anything you want, sweetheart." Lifting her up to sit on the counter.

She always looked hot, he admitted, but there was moments like that, where he could cum just looking at her figure, already spread out for him, her whole body begging to be touched - and he would never denied -, her boobs where hanging out the apron and he hold a handful of one while lining his cock with her entrance, pushing in slowly. Her nails scratch the counter, feeling her insides stretch with and for him, soon he was in that deep spot where he belongs and she grabbed onto his shoulders and his strong arms, moaning his name over and over as he kept hitting the same spot, over and over. Wet sounds filled the air, JJ's cock was sliding easily and it was bringing her closer with each thrust.

"JJ... I'm cumming. Fuck!"

"That's it, babe, cum for me." he encourage her, bringing a hand to rub her clit through her orgasm, Y/N's nails digging into his arms. Her pussy began to squeeze his even more tightly, making his eyes shut, his head thrown back.

"Shit. I can't cum inside you." he groaned. Even though her legs were weak, she left the counter, kneeling in front of him, with the Chantilly can.

"Let me help." she smiled biting her bottom lip. JJ propped against the sink, pulling her hair tight, but soft.

She laughed as she covered his length with cream. "That's something I never thought I would do."

JJ just laughed back, too caught up in the feeling of her kitten licks around his dick. Y/N seemed to be very unhurried now that he was the one needing to cum, so he pushed her mouth lightly deep, the girl gagged and pulled back with a smirk, starting to pump his cock fastly. He could feel the heat growing more and more in his lower stomach.

"Yeah... Show me your pretty tongue." she did what he order, letting him paint it with the jets of cum.

"Fuck. Here." He grabbed her jaw, spraying glacé on it, leaning to catch her mouth in a kiss and share the sweet cream.

"Hummm..." she moaned. " The cupcakes."

"We're all dirty." he laughed between kisses.

"So let's shower first." she smiled, taking off the apron.

[drinkingcoffee-inthedark]

Professor Vanserra

(Velaris University AU Part One)

Summary: You get more than you bargain for when you’re hired to assist in the lecture hall with Velaris University’s legendarily attractive History Professor.

Pairing: Lucien x Reader

Warnings: ⚠️smut! do not interact with this post if you are under the age of eighteen!⚠️ not proofread- and probably not very good but 🤷‍♀️

You made your way down the winding stone staircase, heading straight towards Professor Vanserra’s office. You were his teaching assistant, and he was your mentor. Well, supposed to be your mentor. When he wasn’t being a royal pain in your ass.

The male may have been ridiculously gorgeous and smart, but it’s nearly impossible for someone that has the brains and the looks to not also have the ego to go along with it. He was nearly perfect, and expected the same from others. His high standards made for an incredibly demanding personality. He had fire in his veins, and it showed.

You nearly speed-walked through the corridors of Velaris University’s winding west wing, before you halted outside Professor Vanserra’s door, admiring the plaque splayed across it.

Professor Lucien Vanserra. Professor of Prythian History. You’d always hoped to see your own name on one of the doors in these halls.

The fiery redhead hated to be interrupted when his door was closed, but he did ask you to bring the stack of papers to him. You bit your lip hesitantly, before raising a hand to knock on the wood.

Before your knuckles could make contact, the door flew open. Professor Vanserra stood in the doorway, his eyebrow quirked up and a frown on his lips.

“(Y/N). I believe I asked for theses papers nearly 30 minutes ago.” He said, tearing the stack of essays from your hands.

Your face flushed and you wring your hands nervously. Not meeting his eyes.

“W-well, yes. I hadn’t finished grading—”

He cut you off with a huff and turned on his heel, heading towards his desk. He dropped into his chair and began thumbing through the stack.

You took a tentative step into his office and cleared your throat gently. He didn’t deign to so much as glacé in your direction.

“Professor Vanserra?” You tried again, voice timid and unsure. Lucien rolled his eyes.

“Yes?” He said, the annoyance crystal clear in his sharp tone.

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though you weren’t really sure what for. For not moving at impossible speeds? For not reading his mind? For not being good enough?

He glanced up at you from the top of the paper, and quirked an eyebrow.

“Sorry?” He questioned.

“Well…yes. I’m sorry I was late.”

He set the paper down on his desk, and folded his arms across his chest.

“(Y/N), ‘sorry’ is for mistakes. Your frequent…mishaps… are no mistake. You simply are not performing as you should for this career.”

You gaped at his words, torn between feeling devastated and enraged. Teaching was your passion. It was all you wanted to do. You’d dreamt of taking the podium at Velaris University before you ever attended as a student. You gritted your teeth, biting back tears.

“I think my performance is just fine. I may not be perfect-”

Lucien’s irritated scoff had your words dying in your throat. He picked up the essay that he’d been reading, and his eyes roamed the page to find where he left off. An icy dismissal.

You felt the rage bubble up again, and you balled up your fists, you nails digging into your palms. You did not work this hard to be treated that way. You were finished with allowing him to behave so petulantly. You crossed the room in a flash and slammed your palms against the desk, your flesh stinging at the force. Lucien jumped slightly, letting the paper fall from his hands and he shot you a bewildered look.

“What-” he began, but it was your turn to cut him off.

“Why don’t you like me?” You demanded. He stared at you incredulous.

“I don’t know what mean.” He said evenly. You rolled your eyes.

“I mean,” you began, exasperated, “you treat me like garbage. You’re demanding, rude, and so cold. So why? Why do you hate me?”

Lucien was up in an instant, sending his fancy leather chair flying back with a clatter. His russet eyes flared with anger as he eyes you as if you were prey.

You took a cautious step back, debating on whether or not you should make a dash for the door. But the look in Professor Vanserra’s eye shifted slightly, unrecognizable to you. It planted your feet to the ground. You stared back at him, wide-eyed and curious.

You began to squeak out an apology, but he ignored it, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, his eyes not leaving yours.

“(Y/N).” He said, his voice deep and even, “I don’t hate you. I just can’t stand to be in the same room as you.”

You frowned, searching your brain, trying to connect the dots, and coming up empty. He sighed.

“You come in here in those short skirts. Those tight blouses. Looking absolutely delectable and I can’t have a taste. I don’t hate you. I want you.” He admitted.

Your eyes got even wider, nearly comically so, as you stated at him, your jaw nearly on the floor.

“You’re a dick to me because I’m hot?” You asked. His adminission had you floored —and furious; how dare he you in such a way just because he couldn’t have some self control.

Lucien crossed the room in a few strides- his long, sculpted legs carrying him gracefully. He was so close you could smell his aftershave, mixing with the musky natural scent of his skin.

“I’m strict with you,” he began cooly, “because I see your potential. You’re intelligent. You just need the organization and the guidance.” The closest thing to a compliment he’d ever given you. It made your skin tingle.

The idea shot through your head before you could stop it— how lovely it would be to see the uptight professor come undone. How you’d like to be the one to make him that way.

Feeling bold, you took a step even closer to him. He sucked in a breath, and you reached upwards to trail your fingers along his defined jawline.

“Guidance, huh? Why don’t you guide me now? Teach me what I need to learn, professor.” Your words were heated— a challenge. He accepted.

“On your knees.”

The authority in his words didn’t give you a moment to think. You could only listen. You dropped to your knees and looked up at him expectantly before your brain even thought to hesitate.

His large hand gripped your jaw and he tugged it upwards. His thumb pressed into your plush lower lip and he tugged on it. Your lip unsealed with a ‘pop’ and you looked at him quizzically.

“Open.”

You obliged his request and opened your mouth up to the sky. You instinctively stuck your tongue out and flattened down over your bottom row of teeth. Before you could process what was happening, a thick droplet of saliva hit your tongue and slid down the back of your throat. Your eyes went wide and wild as the realization hit you. Lucien spit in your mouth. You swallowed the fluid quickly and clamped your thighs together, your face flushing at the rush of heat pooling between your legs.

It was disgusting. It was degrading. And you wanted more. You needed more. You took a slow motion snapshot in your brain of the image of Lucien, standing over you, a trail of saliva hanging from his lips before it hit your tongue. And with that, you were ready for anything he wanted. You were ready to be his plaything. With the way he looked at you, pupils blown wide, you passed his test.

A hint of a smirk flashed across his lips, so briefly that you though you’d imagined it. His eyes roamed over your face, stopping at your lips again. He slid his thumb across your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth again, eager for anything else you had to offer. This time, he slipped his thumb into your mouth, and you rounded your lips around it. Your eyes met his as you sucked softly on his thumb.

Not breaking eye contact, Lucien’s other hand snakes down to his belt, and you heard it come undone. The soft hiss of his belt pulling through the loops of his pants had heat pooling in your belly. You didn’t even have to look down to know that he was just as aroused as you were

You heard the faint noise of him unbuttoning his pants, and the agonizingly slow hum of his zipper opening. He pulled his thumb from your mouth and in a slow, fluid motion, had his pants—and boxer shorts— around his thighs. His impressive member sprung to life, and you licked your lips at the sight.

“Are you going to listen to what I teach you?” He asked. You nodded eagerly.

“Good girl.” The phrasing had a new wave of heat rushing through your body. You gripped Lucien’s hard length and pumped —once, then twice, before giving the head a tentative lick, making the red headed male groan.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, and you took the tip into your mouth slowly. He looked down and you with half-lidded eyes, and he watched intently as you took him deeper, and bobbed your head.

“So pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he cooed, his hand cupping your jaw softly. You moved you head faster at his encouragement and hummed around him, making him moan softly at the sensation.

You licked and sucked at his cock, hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper. The sound of your name falling from his lips had you moaning, and you felt the moisture soaking into your underwear from your own arousal.

Lucien took the reigns and bucked his hips, making him nearly hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly on his length and he smirked down at you.

“Too much for you, darling?” He asked, his tone slightly mocking. You were determined to wipe the smirk off his smug face, and picked up the pace. Your fingers cupped his balls, and you squeeze softly.

“Fuck!” He gasped out, and you would’ve smirked right back up at him, if he wasn’t filling your mouth.

You squeezed again, and sucked on him harder, before he gritted his teeth and jerked his hips away.

“Wait.” He told you, and you pulled your mouth off of him and looked up, inquisitively.

Lucien’s hands tangled in your hair and he tugged, not hard enough to hurt, but with enough force that you followed his upward motion. You rose on your feet and allowed the tall male to guide you forward, facing his desk. You walked until your pelvis came into contact with smooth mahogany wood.

“I don’t want to cum until I’m inside you.” His words had a quiet whimper falling from your lips.

His hands came down from your hair, and pressed gently at your shoulders. You followed his lead, and bent over the desk. Lucien hiked your skirt up around your waist and hummed appreciatively when he saw that we weren’t wearing any panties.

“My good girl is ready for me, I see,” you could hear the smirk on his voice. Before you could deign a response, the handsome male slowly dragged his forefinger across your slick slit. You hissed in response, and your legs tensed at his touch. You wanted more. Needed more.

“P-please…” you managed, but it was little more than a whimper.

Lucien’s finger circled your clit, like a shark circle prey in the middle of the ocean. You shook your hips, trying to get some sort of direct contact.

At your meager attempt, Lucien pulled his hand away, before bringing it down in a slap right on your left ass cheek. A startled squeak erupted from your throat, and Lucien practically growled.

“I’m in charge here.”

“Y-yes, Professor.” You managed to get out.

“Good.”

And with that assertion, he was inside you, stretching you out in a way you’d never experienced before. Tears pricked at the corners of you eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood to keep yourself from crying out. Lucien was more careless about letting you know just how good you felt, moaning as he sheathed himself deep inside you.

“Gods, you feel so good.” Lucien gritted out.

Your fingers gripped the desk, your nails digging in leaving little half moons in the ancient wood. Leaving your mark on the office, as Lucien was leaving his mark on you, his own fingers digging into the sensitive flesh on your hips.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he filled you so completely, and you sucked in a shaky breath. Lucien’s pace was slow, but rough. His hips met yours brutally, and you felt each thrust ring through your bones.

Empty headed besides any thoughts besides Lucien’s name, you resigned yourself to your own carnal control. You rutted your hips back against Lucien, meeting his deep strokes in perfect sync. Soft groans fell from your lips as you felt yourself nearly coming undone with each movement inside you.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as the Autumn Court male found the spot that made you see stars. Lucien’s hand tangled in your hair, tugging slightly to give him access to your neck. He but down roughly, making you cry out.

“Mine,” he murmured, before flicking his tongue over the tender, red flesh that he marked.

You chanted his name like an ancient prayer as you felt your release untethering in your belly.

He slowed his pace to an agonizing beat, and tugged on your hair again.

“Say it.” He demanded.

“Y-yours. I’m all yours.” You whimpered out, desperate for him to pick up the pace. Satisfied with your answer, Lucien sped up, his skin slapping against yours wantonly.

You met each movement in time with Lucien, knowing you were both so close to the edge. The red headed male groaned your name softly, and flicked his tongue across the shell of your ear. That was enough to send you off the deep end, black spots clouding your vision. Your orgasm ripped through you, your body going slack as you cried out Lucien’s name.

After a couple of more thrusts, he was following you over the edge, filling you deeply. The room was silent except for the panting as you each tried to catch your breath.

As Lucien pulled away from you, your legs wobbled, unsteady still from the aftershock of your release. The Professor’s strong arms caught you before you could hit the ground, and he steadied.

“Are you alright?” He asked, eyebrow cocked, amused.

You grinned at him sheepishly, “I’ll survive. That was my favorite lesson you’ve taught me.”

-

[the-dose-makes-the-poison]

Song of Autumn

Charles Baudelaire

I

Soon, we shall plunge into the shades of cold;

Farewell, bright summers too quickly passed!

I hear, falling already with funereal shocks,

The wood resounding on cobbled yards.

All of winter will enter my being anew: anger,

Hatred, shivers, horror, to hard work compelled,

And my heart will be, like the sun in its polar hell,

No more than a block of crimson ice.

I hear in trembling each crashing log;

Building a scaffold has no sound more dull.

My spirit is like the tower that falls

To the battering ram and its tireless blows.

It seems to me, lulled by these monotonous shocks,

That one nails in great haste some part of a coffin.

For whom? - Yesterday was summer; now it is autumn!

This mysterious noise announces departure.

II

I love the verdant light of your long, wide eyes,

Sweet beauty, but all today is bitter to me

And nothing, neither your love, nor your room, nor hearth,

Is worth more than the sun streaming over the sea.

And yet, love me, my tender heart. Be mother to me

Even though ungrateful, even unworthy;

Lover or sister, be the ephemeral sweetness

Of a glorious autumn or the setting sun.

Short shift! The gaping tomb awaits!

Ah! Let me rest my head upon your knee

As I deplore the loss of white, hot summers

And taste these final rays of yellow gold.

Translation: © David Paley

Chant d'automne

Charles Baudelaire

I

Bientôt nous plongerons dans les froides ténèbres;

Adieu, vive clarté de nos étés trop courts!

J'entends déjà tomber avec des chocs funèbres

Le bois retentissant sur le pavé des cours.

Tout l'hiver va rentrer dans mon être: colère,

Haine, frissons, horreur, labeur dur et forcé,

Et, comme le soleil dans son enfer polaire,

Mon cœur ne sera plus qu'un bloc rouge et glacé.

J'écoute en frémissant chaque bûche qui tombe

L'échafaud qu'on bâtit n'a pas d'écho plus sourd.

Mon esprit est pareil à la tour qui succombe

Sous les coups du bélier infatigable et lourd.

II me semble, bercé par ce choc monotone,

Qu'on cloue en grande hâte un cercueil quelque part.

Pour qui? - C'était hier l'été; voici l'automne!

Ce bruit mystérieux sonne comme un départ.

II

J'aime de vos longs yeux la lumière verdâtre,

Douce beauté, mais tout aujourd'hui m'est amer,

Et rien, ni votre amour, ni le boudoir, ni l'âtre,

Ne me vaut le soleil rayonnant sur la mer.

Et pourtant aimez-moi, tendre cœur! soyez mère,

Même pour un ingrat, même pour un méchant;

Amante ou sœur, soyez la douceur éphémère

D'un glorieux automne ou d'un soleil couchant.

Courte tâche! La tombe attend; elle est avide!

Ah! laissez-moi, mon front posé sur vos genoux,

Goûter, en regrettant l'été blanc et torride,

De l'arrière-saison le rayon jaune et doux!

[unholywood]

❛   choke .   intimately  wrap  your  hands  around  my  muse’s  throat / faith x serana (:

𝔐. ⑊ the hum is bone-deep. does your desire taste like copper? to breathe is to be informed & correspond each wincing pulsation of living. amber-preserves, back-lit & centuries deep in a wealth of smoldering hunger as her tongue lulls to enunciate. “ i can feel the blood throbbing inside of you. ” perfervid napalm at the grasping flesh of inner thighs, irrigated— nails sit against the curvature of muscle that paths the hollow of her, pressed in half-moon divots until they grasp the body of her jaw & tether in tempering voracity.

the existence of her is violent. it paths its way into her; every bruise ever hewn into the white-knuckled fist, the desperation to forge something in pleasure that can itch the terrible raze of an esurient soul & in every waking moment as the pyrrhic existence of the slayer, slay her. someone, somewhere, is piling the dirt on.

“ do you need to believe this rage is not yours? ” a confession is mouth to mouth; her breath is cool & glacé. burning gaze pulls at the strings of the slayer, feral apparition in the eyes, a separation— fingers enveloping her throat (long-stemmed & full of thorns).

[oldtimesnew]

"Ice Sticks" Fabergé cologne on a stick

Actress Jane Hitchcock is wearing "Berry Glow" lip and nail glacé by Fabergé, Vogue, June 1, 1969

[hypallepse]

french 00s emoteens rats

For @terrortracks —Day 2: Pairing

HickeyGibson as french emoteens in the 00S. Rap, rock, pop and musical.

Those were my songs when I was a teenager and I'm gifting them to my rats because I can. It's half-silly half-serious but I won't say which part is which.

TRANSLATIONS AND VARIOUS RAMBLING UNDER THE CUT

1 – La Boulette (Génération nan nan) (tr: The Ball/Loser/Fuck-up (The nope nope generation)), by Diam’s

→ Iconic rap song in the 00s, many references to French politics in the rest of the song. Hickey listens to that.

Y a comme un goût de haine quand je marche dans ma ville y a comme un goût de gène quand je parle de ma vie y a comme un goût d'aigreur chez les jeunes de l'an 2000 y a comme un goût d'erreur quand j'vois le taux de suicide me demande pas s'qui les pousse à casser des vitrines j'suis pas la mairie j'suis qu'une artiste en devenir moi j'suis qu'une boulette me demande pas si j'ai le bac moi jai que le rap et je l'embarque et je l'embrase je le mate car je l'embrasse

There's like a taste of hate when I walk in my city There's like a taste of discomfort when I talk about my life There's like a taste of bitterness among youngs of the 2000's There's like a taste of error when I see the suicide rate Don't ask me what makes them break windows I'm not the major, I'm just a fledgling artist Me, I'm just a Boulette Don't ask me if I have my bac (highschool diploma) I only have rap, but I embark it, I set it ablaze, I love it cause I embrace it

(translation by: https://lyricstranslate.com/fr/la-boulette-boulette.html-0#songtranslation )

2 – Jeune et con (tr: Young and stupid), by Saez

→ Billy listens to it, Neil pretends to like it too.

Encore une soirée où la jeunesse France Encore elle va bien s'amuser puisqu'ici rien a de sens Alors on va danser faire semblant d'être heureux Pour aller gentiment se coucher mais demain rien n'ira mieux Puisqu'on est jeune et con Puisqu'ils sont vieux et fous Puisque des hommes crèvent sous les ponts Mais ce monde s'en fout Puisqu'on est que des pions Content d'être à genoux Puisque je sais qu'un jour nous gagnerons à devenir fous

Once again, another evening where France youth Again, it's gonna have fun, since nothing makes sense here So we're gonna dance, pretend to be happy In order to gently go to bed, but tomorrow nothing will be better Since we are young and dumb Since they are old and mad Since people die under bridges And this world doesn't care Since we are nothing but pawns Happy to kneel Since I know that one day we will end up mad

(translation by: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/jeune-et-con-young-and-dumb.html)

3 – Palabra mi amor, by Shaka Ponk

→ It’s about Neil. And Billy is a little sick of it.

je prend mon temps sans plus attendre je bouge mon cul sur mon divan le déluge viens pour mes enfants et dans les diners je m'étends sur le sujet, évidemment je suis l'sauveur, je suis savant je suis savant je suis savant i am a man made of joy and pain

I'm taking my time without taking any longer I get off my ass on the couch The deluge is coming for my children And on dinner I go on At length, of course I'm wild, I'm savant I'm savant I'm savant I am a man made of joy and pain

(translation: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/palabra-mi-amor-word-my-love.html )

4 – Le chemin (tr: The road), by Kyo, with Sita

→ Emo-ass song about a break-up. Iconic with teenagers in the 00s. They are listening and crying to it.

Regarde-toi assise dans l'ombre, A la lueur de nos mensonges Les mains glacées jusqu'à l'ongle Regarde-toi à l'autre pôle, Fermer les yeux sur ce qui nous ronge On a changé à la longue On a parcouru le chemin, On a tenu la distance Et je te hais de tout mon corps Mais je t'adore

Look at you, sat in the shade From the glow of our lies A hand freezing down to the nails Look at you, at the other pole Eyes shut to what gnaws away at us We changed over time We overcame the paths We held the distance And I hate you with all my body But I love you

(translation by: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/le-chemin-path.html )

5 – J’ai demandé à la lune (tr: I asked to the moon), by Indochine

→ Break-up vibes. Pathetic Neil hoping Billy will take him back.

J'ai demandé à la lune Et le soleil ne le sait pas Je lui ai montré mes brûlures Et la lune s'est moquée de moi Et comme le ciel n'avait pas fière allure Et que je ne guérissais pas Je me suis dit quelle infortune Et la lune s'est moquée de moi J'ai demandé à la lune Si tu voulais encore de moi Elle m'a dit "j'ai pas l'habitude De m'occuper des cas comme ça" Et toi et moi On était tellement sûr Et on se disait quelquefois Que c'était juste une aventure Et que ça ne durerait pas

I called upon the moon Behind the sun's back I showed her all my wounds And the moon laughed at me And since the sky wasn't really proud And I wasn't feeling any better I told myself I was out of luck And the moon laughed at me I called upon the moon To ask her if you still wanted me She told me "I'm not used to bothering with these kinds of issues" And you and me We were so convinced And we would sometimes say that it was simply an affair And that it wouldn't last

(translation by : https://lyricstranslate.com/en/j%E2%80%99ai-demand%C3%A9-%C3%A0-la-lune-i-called-upon-he-moon.html#songtranslation )

6 – Dernière danse (tr: Last danse), by Kyo

→ Kyo is back.

J'ai longtemps parcouru son corps Effleuré cent fois son visage J'ai trouvé de l'or Et même quelques étoiles en essuyant ses larmes Et j'ai appris par cœur la pureté de ses formes Parfois je les dessine encore Elle fait partie de moi

I've travelled her body for a long time Touched upon her face a hundred times I've found gold And even some stars wipe away her tears I've learned the purity of her shapes by heart Sometimes, I still draw them It forms a part of me

(translation by: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/le-darnier-danse-last-dance.html-2#songtranslation )

7 – L’assasymphonie, by Mozart l’Opera Rock

→ It’s a French musical about Mozart but make it emo and rock. Please google it for the looks alone. The Hickey vibe are off the roof too.

Tuant par dépit ce que je sème Je voue mes nuits A l'Assasymphonie Et aux blasphèmes J'avoue je maudis tous ceux qui s'aiment. L'ennemi tapi dans mon esprit Fête mes défaites Sans répit, me défie Je renie la fatale hérésie Qui ronge mon être Je veux renaître Renaitre

Killing by frustration what I sow I dedicate my nights To the assasymphony And to blasphemies I confess I curse All those who love each other The enemy crouching in my mind Celebrates my defeats Without letting up it outbraves me I deny the fatal heresy Which gnaws at my soul I want to be reborn To be reborn

(translation by : https://lyricstranslate.com/en/l039assasymphonie-assasymphony-assasinate-symphony.html)

8 – Je saigne encore (tr: I bleed again), by Kyo

→ Last words by Kyo and I’m not even sorry. My ado self is thriving. Express yourself my boy. This is very jealous Neil and some stabbing because that’s on brand for them.

Ça fait mal, crois moi, une lame enfoncée loin dans mon âme Regarde en toi, même pas l'ombre d'une larme Et je saigne encore, je souris à la mort Tout ce rouge sur mon corps Je te blesse dans un dernier effort

And it hurts, believe me, a blade dug deep into my soul Just look at you, not even a shadow of tear And I'm still bleeding, I'm smiling to death All this red upon my body I hurt you in a final stress

(translation by: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/je-saigne-encore-im-still-bleeding.html-0#songtranslation )

[coulisses-onirisme]

Claude CAHUN Marcel MOORE (deux femmes en couple amoureux et actif)

Femme, féministe, hors genre, photographe, écrivaine, comédienne, artiste multiple, engagée politiquement contre les nazis, résistante active (19ème 20ème siècle)

Elle réalise, de 1949 à 1953 une série de photo intitulée Le chemin des chats18, à La Rocquaise, ou sur le Mur de l'Atlantique ou Atlantik Wahl construit par les allemands le long de la plage St Brelade, toujours visible (Ile de Jersey)

« Je sens comme si je les voyais, mes cuisses maigrir d'une sueur de fièvre, douche parfois brûlante, parfois glacée, toujours inattendue. Mes genoux vidés, les os dissous, vêtu d'un parchemin lucide, se gonflent, flottantes vessies de porc. Mon cœur alenti sonne un glas funèbre, puis bat bruyamment comme un tocsin. Il devient mobile, se promène dans mon ventre, y éclate en coliques profondes. À chaque secousse, une conscience tombe, pulvérisée. Peu à peu, je m'allège. Bref répit ! Mon cœur se gonfle outrageusement et s'emplit d'hydrogène. Gros ballon rouge et bleu, il monte au bout d'un fil. À l'autre bout, c'est une guêpe enfermée, qui frappe à coups venimeux aux parois de ma poitrine. Si je l'aidais à sortir ? Et mes ongles sans hésiter pratiqueraient un jour qui guide l'échappée de ce cœur s'il ne faisait dehors désespérément noir. Ô nocturne sans issue qui se joue dans les cercles de la nuit musicale, infernal serpent qui s'est décapité en avalant sa queue, bracelet aux sept chaînes hermétiques » Colville 1999, p. 56

Claude CAHUN Marcel MOORE (two women in a loving and active couple)

Woman, feminist, nogenrer, photographer, writer, actress, multiple artist, politically engaged against the Nazis, active resistance fighter (19th to 20th century)

From 1949 to 1953, she produced a series of photos entitled Le chemin des chats18, at La Rocquaise, or on the Atlantic Wall or Atlantik Wahl built by the Germans along St Brelade beach, still visible (Island of Jersey). )

“I feel as if I saw them, my thighs losing weight with a feverish sweat, a shower sometimes hot, sometimes freezing, always unexpected. My emptied knees, dissolved bones, clad in lucid parchment, swell, floating pig bladders. My slowed heart sounds a funeral toll, then beats loudly like a tocsin. It becomes mobile, wanders around in my stomach, bursts into deep colic. With each shock, a consciousness falls, pulverized. Little by little, I lighten up. Brief respite! My heart swells outrageously and fills with hydrogen. Big red and blue balloon, it goes up at the end of a thread.

At the other end, it's a trapped wasp, striking venomous blows at the walls of my chest. What if I helped him get out? And my nails without hesitation would practice one day which guides the escape of this heart if it were not desperately dark outside.

O nocturnal dead end which plays out in the circles of the musical night, infernal serpent which decapitated itself by swallowing its tail, bracelet with seven hermetic chains” Colville 1999, p. 56

Chemin des chats, 1948. Claude Cahun

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue June 1958

Opera pumps in caramel yellow alligator, apricot bottoms by Schiaparelli. Delman shoes, in Fleming-Joffe alligator.Frost Bros. Jewelry Verdura. Turquoise straw hat by Lilly Daché. Sofa by Eero Saarinen, for Knoll Associates. With the colors of June: Watteau Rose lipstick and glossy nails, by Juliette Marglen. Escarpins d'opéra en alligator jaune caramel, bas abricot de Schiaparelli. Chaussures Delman, en alligator Fleming-Joffe. Bijoux Frost Bros. Verdura. Chapeau en paille turquoise par Lilly Daché. Canapé par Eero Saarinen, pour Knoll Associates. Avec les couleurs de juin : rouge à lèvres et ongles glacés Watteau Rose, de Juliette Marglen. Photo John Rawlings vogue archive

[sushis4kalyo]

Arizona Nail Art 🌸

[ednaeflowers]

❛  Lailah is the most un-uptight person ever,  ❜ Edna comments, and thinks briefly about writing a letter to her eventually. Ladylake is not too far away to make a visit, but now that there's no more dragon rumor to steer unwanted people away, Edna should be more diligent here. ❛  Sounds like you have a 'blast' chatting with her. Have you already met with Meebo and Zaveid then? ��❜

She contemplates for a moment, then replies readily, ❛  I'll overlook it this time. The rich glaze is important for perfect marron glacé, but there's also no time like the present.  ❜ ( A roundabout way of not keeping him here for long. Surely, a human like him has other things to do. ) ❛  After all, it's been a while since I got to have marron glacé.  ❜

And so, she is fascinated as she watches him work. As a fire seraph, Lailah is good at baked snacks, but marron glacé is something she doesn't make often—and while Meebo is good at making most of the snacks, he doesn't make marron glacé often either since it's usually Edna who even requests for it. As for Edna herself, she cannot make them well, and she never knew if Onii-chan knew how to make them either. 

❛  Just a bit of extra vanilla is fine,  ❜ she decides. Even if the glaze won't be as rich, it should still taste pretty good if he's nailed down the other steps. His palmiers already has the stamp of approval. He's not stuttering on any of the steps right now, so it's obvious to her that he's more skilled than she thought. After a beat, she glances at the card again and also adds, ❛  Thanks... I don't think you wrote your name on this, by the way, Miracle Chef.  ❜

Wow. Lady Edna still had a bunch more puns to burn through. Maybe it's like their special friendship handshake? He'll have to prep some before he found Lord Mikleo and Lord Zaveid. Though the almost too polite "Good luck, Sir Ludger!" for finding the latter suggests he's got time...?

'Will do! Though find her energy comforting. Thought she'd be uptight since leaders just are. But she's one of the friendliest people I'll ever know I think.' He wouldn't bog down the page with details, but their talk lasted hours while Shepherd Rose slept in. All pleasant though!

Marron Glacé... A fine order for a finer lady. Ludger checks his bags for the essentials, and... everything's in place! 'Can do! Though will warn! Glaze supposed to marinate overnight, so might not be as rich when done. Unless you want me to bother you that long. |･x･`)'

Whatever the case, he'll get right started with pouring his cooking canteen into his fold-out pot for the chestnuts to boil and help shed those tough shells. Though Ludger's pot had one last trick-- yanking down at the bottom, tiny legs extended so it could rest above ground for the sticks and tinder to slide under. A few strikes from his flint onto his fire starter, and their cooking journey begins!

'While that goes, how do you like your glaze? Any additives besides vanilla? Extra vanilla? Want to make this perfect! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ'

[m-rosie]

Chant D'automne (Song of Autumn)

I

Bientôt nous plongerons dans les froides ténèbres;

Adieu, vive clarté de nos étés trop courts!

J'entends déjà tomber avec des chocs funèbres

Le bois retentissant sur le pavé des cours.

Tout l'hiver va rentrer dans mon être: colère,

Haine, frissons, horreur, labeur dur et forcé,

Et, comme le soleil dans son enfer polaire,

Mon coeur ne sera plus qu'un bloc rouge et glacé.

J'écoute en frémissant chaque bûche qui tombe

L'échafaud qu'on bâtit n'a pas d'écho plus sourd.

Mon esprit est pareil à la tour qui succombe

Sous les coups du bélier infatigable et lourd.

II me semble, bercé par ce choc monotone,

Qu'on cloue en grande hâte un cercueil quelque part.

Pour qui? — C'était hier l'été; voici l'automne!

Ce bruit mystérieux sonne comme un départ.

-Charles Baudelaire 1892

------------------------

I

Soon we shall plunge into the cold darkness;

Farewell, vivid brightness of our short-lived summers!

Already I hear the dismal sound of firewood

Falling with a clatter on the courtyard pavements.

All winter will possess my being: wrath,

Hate, horror, shivering, hard, forced labor,

And, like the sun in his polar Hades,

My heart will be no more than a frozen red block.

All atremble I listen to each falling log;

The building of a scaffold has no duller sound.

My spirit resembles the tower which crumbles

Under the tireless blows of the battering ram.

It seems to me, lulled by these monotonous shocks,

That somewhere they're nailing a coffin, in great haste.

For whom? — Yesterday was summer; here is autumn

That mysterious noise sounds like a departure.

-Charles Baudelaire 1892

[settersloveletters]

hello hellooo!! i literally love ur blog so mf much, can i pls request some yummy angst w a fluffy ending w tsukki and kenma 🥺? where their s/o feels jealous n insecure maybe about another girl and when they bring it up they end up having a huge fight ?

— you’re great; oneshot

a/n: okay,, i only wrote tsukki’s right now and i’ll get to kenma’s soon but i really wanted to post this tonight so i hope that’s okay >_< also idk how to write angst so i’m sorry if this doesn’t pull your heartstrings ;w;

oh i also started to write in proper grammar and not all lowercase ehehe

➳ request: s/o insecure abt another girl + angst + big fight with tsukki and kenma

➳ pairing: tsukishima x f!reader

➳ genre: angst, fluffy at the end

➳ word count: 1.9k

➳ admin: kiri ♡

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

You continued to tap the top end of your pencil against your desk, leaning your head against the palm of your hand as you glared at the familiar blonde across the room. You and Tsukishima Kei had been an item for almost a year now, and you couldn’t be happier. That is, until your homeroom teacher assigned a project that required everyone to be in pairs.

“Earth to (Y/N),” Hitoka Yachi, your assignment partner and best friend, waved her hand in front of your face. “You’re gonna get wrinkles on your forehead if you keep glaring at Tsukishima-kun and Akari-san.”

“I am not glaring at them.” You scoff, leaning back against your chair and folding your arms over your chest.

“(Y/N) you shouldn’t be worried about anything,” Yachi responded, “Tsukishima-kun only has eyes for you.”

You blew your bangs out of your face in frustration as you turned towards the window. You knew that you shouldn’t be worrying over this trivial matter, but the fact that your boyfriend was spending most of his time with the most popular girl — also dubbed at the most prettiest — in your year bothered you.

“Doesn’t help that Kei’s partners with Akari-san.” You argue back. Akari Hana was the girl that every guy dreamed about. Smart, athletic, pretty. You were insecure enough. When you compare yourself to Akari you could find so many flaws in you and so many perfections in her. It didn’t help that your last boyfriend — which was back in junior high — broke up with you for a girl similar to Akari.

As the bell rang, signaling that school was over, you gathered your things into your school bag and was about to head over to Tsukki when you stopped. You watched as your boyfriend — without glancing at you — made his way out the class. Still talking to Akari. You purse your lips and gripped the strap of your bag.

It’s okay. You were fine.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

The rest of the week remained just like that. Tsukki only offering you good morning texts and a peck on the cheek when he sees you, before making his way to Akari. Again. Every time you tried to talk to, or approach Tsukki he would brush you off before he ran off to Ms. Popularity.

You told yourself that it was fine, and that they were only spending that much time together for the sake of the project. However you started to notice how much closer the two started to get. Every time you see either of them, the other is right beside them. Even as you went to the volleyball club’s practice after school, you stopped yourself from entering the gym as you saw Akari watching from the sides. You turned right around and went home. The only text you got from Tsukki was him asking where you were, to which you replied saying you weren’t feeling well.

[5:43] my little tsun-chan: hey why didn’t you come to practice today?

[5:50] you: i went home, wasn’t feeling well

[6:00] my little tsun-chan: dumbass, you gotta take better care of yourself

You tossed your phone to the side and pressed your face into your pillow. Kei you idiot.

Friday finally came around and you couldn’t be more relieved. Friday was the day you and Tsukki held your weekly movie nights. One of the days that left a special place in your heart. You smiled as you made your way to school, knowing that this was one day that Akari Hana couldn’t take Tsukki away.

“Oh sorry (Y/N),” Tsukki looked at you. You found him underneath a tree out in the school yard. You assumed that he was waiting for you, however that wasn’t the case. “Hana-san and I were gonna finish the assignment today.”

“But we always have movie nights Fridays.” You furrow your eyebrows. “We’ve never missed one unless you have a game.”

“Well yeah, but this is for school and Hana-san is busy over the weekend so we only have today to finish.” Tsukki pulled out his phone.

“Hana-san? Since when have you started calling her by her first name?”

“I forgot, but she’s the one who insisted and I didn’t really care.” Tsukki replied, not sparing you any glacé.

“You and Akari-san have gotten a lot closer huh?” You bite your lip, your throat starting to hurt.

“Well yeah, we’re partners of course.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her too. We’ve barely talked to each other this whole week” You brought your gaze downwards, whispering the last sentence.

“(Y/N), don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Tsukki, rolled his eyes, finally looking at you.

“Is it my fault that I’m worried? Probably.” You bite your lip harder. “Akari-san’s amazing though. She’s pretty, smart, talented and athletic.”

“Yeah she’s all of those things. But you’re great too (Y/N).”

“Just great… That makes me feel better.” You laugh bitterly.

Just hearing Tsukki say stuff like it wasn’t a big deal, affected you a lot. You started to remember this exact scenario happening back in your last year of junior high. Where you confronted your current boyfriend at the time and asked him about a girl in your grade that all the guys fawned over. If you weren’t already insecure the words that he said raised the bar.

“She’s just amazing. From her face to her personality. But you’re great too (Y/N).”

But you’re great too (Y/N). But you’re great too (Y/N). But you’re great too (Y/N).

You could feel some tears welling up in your eyes as you remember that phrase, “You seem like you like Akari-san a lot.”

“What are you jealous?” He smirks.

“Do you think this is a joke?” You can see a figure out of the corner of your eye. Glancing towards the side you see Akari Hana walking out of the school doors looking around for Tsukki.

“Okay Hana-san and I need to finish our assignment. When you’ve gotten over your unnecessary jealousy, I’ll text you.” He started to walk towards Akari.

“You know what. I’m done Tsukishima.” You dig your nails into your hand. “If you think Akari is all that, you might as well go out with her.”

Tsukki turns around at your statement, “What? (Y/N) what are you even saying?” He touches your wrist.

“NO! Don’t touch me!” You yell, shrinking away from his touch. “Just go to Akari. I’m done Tsukishima.”

You turn away and run off to your house.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

You spend your weekend locked up in your room, eating ice cream and chips while reading sad fanfiction to soothe your aching heart. Tsukki tried calling you after you ran home, and even sent multiple texts. But you just brushed it off, putting your phone on do not disturb as to not disrupt your reading.

When Sunday came around, your heart hurt just more than it had been. It was your one year anniversary with Tsukki. Or it would’ve been. You covered yourself with your blankets as you hugged your stuffed animal. You gave up reading on fanfics and decided to just lay there, staring off into space. You enjoyed the quietness.

“(Y/N)-CHAN!” Your bedroom door was slammed open, surprising you from the sudden loud noise. You looked up to see Yachi standing in the doorway. “I’m here to take you out because you’ve been stuck inside all weekend.”

“Yachi please no,” You groan, pulling the covers over your head. “Just let me wither away in my sadness.”

“Nope it’s almost 6 and you’ve spend the entire day inside, now get up and get in the shower.” Yachi replied, grabbing the covers off of you.

Groaning once again, you begrudgingly made your way to your bathroom knowing that you couldn’t argue your way out of this. Stepping back into your room, wrapped in your towels you see Yachi sitting on your bed, texting away on her phone.

“Who’re you texting?”

“Huh? Oh, just Hinata-kun don’t worry.” Yachi says, placing her phone down on your bed. “You’re wearing that by the way.”

She points to a yellow sundress covered in a floral pattern laid out on your bed. Letting out a sigh, you grab the dress and head back into your bathroom to change. After fixing yourself up, You and Yachi head downstairs. Reaching the final step you hear a knock at your door which leaves you confused. Looking back at Yachi, she shrugs her shoulders at you.

Opening the door, you come face-to-face with the person you’d least expect to show up. “What’re you doing here.”

At your door stands Tsukki, in a pair of khaki coloured pants and a navy blue polo shirt. He was holding a bouquet of flowers as he darted his eyes everywhere, except your own eyes.

“I–uh,” Tsukki, sighed and finally looked at you. “(Y/N), please let me explain everything.”

“I’m supposed to be going out with Yachi right now.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Actually (Y/N), Hinata-kun texted me and needs my help with Kageyama-kun.” Yachi speaks up, “I gotta go but I’ll talk to you later!”

The blonde girl heads out the door before you could say anything and you’re left alone with Tsukki. The two of you fall into uncomfortable silence, something that hasn’t happened between you in awhile.

“(Y/N)–“ Tsukki starts to say, but you cut him off before anything.

“As much as I don’t wanna talk to you, I’ll give you 10 minutes.”

“I need 30 minutes.”

Your mouth gapes open, “30 minutes, Tsukishima–“

“Please, (Y/N).” He pleaded.

“Fine.”

After a long walk in silence, the sun had started to set that an orange hue was left in the sky. Tsukishima led you to a small park away from the houses and roads. From a distance you could see small little lights littering the ground. As you got closer, you realized that the little lights littering the ground were candles. Candles that led to a small gazebo where a table setting was set up in the middle.

“Tsukishima what is this?” You asked as he pulled out your chair for you to sit.

“This is what me and Han- Akari-san had been planning.” Tsukki reveals.

“Akari-chan?”

“All that time her and I have been spending, she’s been helping me plan this for our one year.”

Your eyes widen at his confession. You suddenly feel stupid for thinking the things you thought. You felt stupid for thinking that Tsukishima would ever be like your ex-boyfriend. You just felt stupid.

“I–“ You don’t even know what to say.

“No don’t you dare apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry for just edging you on like that. I just made things worse.” Tsukki took your hands in his. “I have no idea how to express how I’m feeling without being sarcastic. And I hurt you. But I swear to you (Y/N), I love you and I will always love you.”

You could feel the tears coming up in your eyes, but you feel Tsukki’s calloused fingers wipe them away. “I’m sorry for acting so jealous and insecure. And for jumping to conclusions.”

Tsukki shakes his head. “Let’s just put this behind us.” He leans in and places a kiss on your forehead showing his affection.

Your relationship stood strong ever since.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[Behind the Scenes]

(Y/N): wait a minute did yachi have a hand in this too? Is that why she came to my house and got me to get ready?

Tsukki: maybe

(Y/N): wait is that hinata and yachi… and akari-san in those bushes??

three heads pop up before the three run off

[marinelp]

🇫🇷 Hello par ici ! Vous passez un bon début de semaine ? Prêtes pour la vague de chaleur vendredi ? 😅 Aujourd’hui sur le blog je vous propose un nail art abstrait et minimaliste effet « crème glacée qui fond » avec @peggysageofficial et il y même un tutoriel vidéo 🎥 Vous aimez ? Le lien direct est dans ma bio ou story 😊 Bonne soirée 😘 • 🇬🇧 Hello! How‘s your week so far? Ready for Friday’s heatwave? 😅 Today on the blog I’m sharing this abstract and minimalist ‘’melting ice cream’’ nail art with @peggysageofficial and I’ve also included a video tutorial 🎥 Do you like it? The direct link is my bio or story 😊 Have a nice evening 😘 • #peggysage #peggysageofficial #negativespacenails #minimalistnailart #icecreamnails #nailart #nailarttutorial #marinelovespolish #instanails #nailitdaily #nailsofinstagram #naildesign #nails2inspire #ignails #nailstagram #nailpromote #nailswag #nailartwow #naturalnaillover #nailartheaven #collaboration ad https://www.instagram.com/p/CDMbiiwglSO/?igshid=1q82u0yolds2a

[randomoranges]

here we go, the summer retrospective no one actually asked for lol

Seeing as I’ve done this summer retrospective for years, back on the old LJ and did it here last here, I thought I’d do it again. It’s under a cut, because this is for me, but like feel free to read through it and judge me, I guess lol. 

 This summer was weird. In so many ways. For starters, it was my shortest summer in a really long time – if ever, minus the year I worked at McGill. The end of the school year dragged on for like 3 weeks and by the time it actually ended, it took me, retrospectively, another 3 weeks to recuperate from it. I ended up replacing a teacher who got Covid in November and never came back and the group was hard as hell and that took a gigantic toll on me – emotionally and physically and mentally. This entire year was a shit show of stress and “anxiety”, so that was - fun. On top of that, there were also places I wanted to go to/go back to that unfortunately closed because of the pandemic.

 Then, just as I was getting into the spirit of summer, the last leg of it decided to test all my emotions at once and that was another roller-coaster.

 July was grey and overcast and I’m sure that also didn’t help.

 Regardless, I still managed to do quite a few things, so here’s the list – for my own benefit, obviously. I know it seems like A Lot, but keep in mind I was off for 7 some weeks and some things were grouped within a day.

 Ice cream places visited: Iconoglace, Hocheglacé, Unicone, Meu Meu, Armoire à glaces, Kameha, Riverside, Havre aux glaces, Pineault, Chocolat favoris, Calem, Koba, Sachère desserts, Ice cream glacée

 I caught up again with the photo albums.

 Got the second dose of the vaccine

 Restaurants and food: Pigeon café, Espadon, Paramount, Sushi Sama, Thai Express, Drogheria Fine, Gérard, La Beignerie, Mitch Deli, Slice & Soda, Sushi Shop, Bête à pain, Guillaume, Parfum d’Asie, Ma poule mouillée

 Outings and Activities: La Ronde, La grande roue, Downtown, Chinatown, Pointe à Callière, Old Port, Oratoire St-Joseph, Square Victoria, Avenue Mt-Royal, Hochelaga, watched the meteor shower and saw some on two nights, Jean-Talon Market, walked on the back of Mont-Royal, supper at Gougoune’s, Mt-Tremblant, La fromagerie St-François, boat ride, Georgie’s House – twice!, le Petit navire, plage du Quai de l’Horlogex3, Bassin Peel, Atwater Market, Pink & Green house, walked in the Village, Habitat 67, lookout du Quai de Montréal, Sunflower farm

 Friends and hangouts: Somehow or other, I managed to make new friends on the day that I went to the museum and on le Petit navire. I also had one dinner with my camp crew, went to La Ronde with a friend I hadn’t seen in years, had dinner with another friend and ice cream with another.

 I ran into some old friends from camp at the pool, a friend from school at the la Grande roue, and a friend from university while I was out and about. (And two students – one from 6 years ago and another from this past year. Lol.)

 Dad and I finally built the new shed. I fixed my Mom’s mug.

 Pool: 11x – the municipal pool I used to go to when I worked at camp reopened and they did a really good job on it.

 In the early stages of summer, the Habs were still in what feels like a fever dream of a playoff run and I decided to splurge and get my name added on my jersey.

 Painted nails: 3

 Painted plant boxes: 5

 I took care of my plants and added a few more to the collection.... oups. I also grew sunflowers from seed – and barely got to enjoy them as they unfortunately got eaten L

 Despite everything, I managed to write some fics and work on some AUs, but I would have liked to do more.

 I also managed to do some art, but even that felt like it wasn’t the amount of what I would have liked.

 I chilled in my hammock as well.

 I went on some bike rides, but equally feel that compared to past years, I didn’t go as often or as far as usual...

 Reading (re): Antique Bakery, I splurged and bought all the Sailor Moon mangas and read them, booklet on SAQ, No Time like the Future, started two other books as well that I did not finish.

 Watched: Sailor Moon 90s anime, We are Lady Parts!, caught up on some stuff on the PVR, Schitt’s Creek, Green Book

 Mended stuff that had been waiting for ages for some TLC

 Started the MOOC on Indigenous Studies

 FINALLY FINISHED FAKE FIGUARY.

 Finished updating my plant documents. Finally.

 Went to see my auntie I hadn’t seen since – Xmas 2019 lol. Went to my godparents’ house, and mom’s friend came over for dinner.

 And obviously, did some puttering around and cleaning at home and such. Got stuff ready for the new school year...

 All in all, this summer had its moments. The fact that I knew where I was going to be working before the end of summer kind of was a good and bad thing. Obvs knowing where I’d be was good, but it also didn’t let me fully disconnect. Inevitably, I felt as though I was already behind but I firmly told myself that no – I was on vacation, too bad for the rest.

 I was also able to do some things that I’d never done before – visit landmarks of the city that I hadn’t seen before and that was nice. Going back to eat at a restaurant was nice and going up north for the day was pleasant. I would have liked to see more of my friends, but it seems everyone is allergic to hanging out and too busy for me lol. Still, I feel like this summer was all over the place. Between the weather – which wasn’t our usual, the state of things in the world and my own mood, it was – ok, but could have been better.

 Tomorrow I go back to teaching and with the pandemic still going, I’m annoyed that whatever hype I had has been slowly eaten away by the general stupidity of people in regards to Covid. But that’s an issue for another day.

 Here’s to you summer 2021, until next time.

[floraisondiadem]

vanessa kirby . cisfemale . she/her . wasn’t that ofelia avita markoviæ walking the palace grounds ? it’s nice to see the lady in waiting out and about on such a fine day as this. I’ve heard from the court spies that they are notoriously taciturn, whilst also managing to be quite protean. the thirty year old is eager to find out who exactly is behind the killings from what’s being said at court. I heard that they themselves are vrajiit ( malleable anatomy & vocal replication ). it’s funny, whenever I think of them, I think of spiderweb cracks swiftly branching out across a surface, rows upon rows of faces lined up on a shelf ready to be borrowed and the porcelain reticence of a doll. great to see the mannequin around, isn’t it ?

⇢ 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍;

full name: ofelia avita markoviæ meaning: ❛ advantage | life, son of the god of war ❜ nickname(s) | aliases: ophie, lia | avita markoviæ, ekho occupation; current | former lady in waiting | academy graduate, theater puppeteer home: danruba martial affiliation: unattached. pansexual. affiliation | alignment: herself | neutral chaotic, neutral neutral disposition { positive }; protean, courteous, discerning disposition { negative }; taciturn, abrasive, possessive notable physical traits: silver ear cuff piercing on left ear in the form of three rings intricately weaved with runes, a precautionary measure countering her guises. the faint scent of freesia.

tw: death, tw: body horror, tw: blood, tw: murder

✧ the twins ofelia and odysseus entered the world one dreary, wintry—she will never forget the cold, how it cradled her nor the flakes of snow that kissed her cheeks—morning in danruba to vrajiit wise woman solveig whom practiced the art of anthropomancy with eyes the color of glacial ice and her wife the elusive as the tide willonia; a boat maker turned bone carver, from animal bones to the bark on the skeletal trees does her touch reach and twist with a voice that demanded a bent knee from the seed of a man named alasdair.

✧ to fill any other spaces, any leaking cracks were the weaved tales solvieg told of the old gods, a heavy presence in the shape of another member upon the family tree or the presence little ofelia swore she could feel in those moments of her mother brushing her fingers through her hair to make a braid. she dared not look in the mirror, ofelia’s fear keeping her fidgety frame stilled. 

✧ willonia called them her little minnows as age progressed; brushing a hand across their cheeks the two didn’t understand why there was tears in their mothers’ eyes one day, the other parental no where to be seen not even a shadow, threatening to spill over nor the meaning behind such raw display of emotion. frantic were they to make it go away, wrapping arms around her in an embrace she did not return—but oh ofelia would understand later, on the battlefield, bloody and tired and so so cold as she buried the blade in her brothers throat—I’m sorry little minnow—leaving her lips in their mother’s voice, the hot gush of blood warmed her quivering hands briefly, odysseus’s look of shock blending with her gaze of animalistic fear and tracks of tears. cowardice, her mind hissed, a desire to live, she chokingly responded. fingers pressing against her brothers’ dead frame—that suddenly mirrored her own. 

✧ a drawn out tear soaked sigh, then she picked up the jagged rock.

✧ the two entered the academy together, hand in hand, only knowledge under their belts was the rough play they’d grown used to with the other children in the village. the fights ofelia would get into occasionally gifting the other party with a broken nose. inexperienced. but they knew how to bite at least. were quick on the feet. devouring gazes that ate up their lessons in spite of fumbles, in spite of ofelia’s revulsion towards the reason for the preparing. they grew apart there, different connections different interests different reasoning's for being here. for wanting to stay. ofelia nearly loosing herself within it’s walls. they exited the academy separately when the time came. ofelia’s only glimpse of odysseus is cursory.

✧ was it divine punishment? this memory, this crime that crushed her with guilt, twisted itself like her gift did to the flesh and left her voice a mock of what it used to be. two toned. as if another resided there in her throat, could be peered at if one dared close enough. a darker whisper nearly swallowing her own voice trapping her in that cycle of would she ever be her own again.

✧ connections, a recommendation, well oiled by honey dripping from tongue, praises the glacé. you’ll sing for another now little minnow. the abuse of her mother’s title, the blood that tied itself to her veins in which she hardly ever spoke of got ofelia placed in the position. a proper decoy. protection against assassination's. big words and a heavy duty placed upon shoulders that could easily let it crumble however the vrajiit are kin. she’d remain. 

⇢ P o w e r s & A b i l i t i e s;

malleable anatomy; user can modify the physiological features of oneself and others, including face, body, skin, or size (to a limited degree) to disguise or look like another person. while removing/concealing a body-part, like a finger, eye, etc., is possible, the user can't actually add anything new to the body-shape. they can, however, shift the flesh to a remarkable degree, although the changed being will always be recognizable as a member of their species.

vocal replication; user is able to mimic the voices of others or imitate sounds such as animal noises and explosions. any sound the user hears they can replicate with perfect clarity along with any manner the sound was made in.

⇢ W e a k n e s s ( e s ) | L i m i t a t i o n (s);

✧  the process to alter, to redesign, her features is rightfully so an agonizing one no matter the tolerance built. likened to pressing your face up against a gravel road and dragging. leaving the vrajiit vulnerable to attack while she redresses herself in the appearance of another using long nails to rip the skin revealing the new face underneath the gore.

✧ limited to hands, face, hair length and color. she has yet to attempt full body transformations. same goes for altering other people but their transformations don’t extend for a long period of time like hers does. 

✧ tries not to use this ability too much due to the pain it causes unless required of her.

✧ sounds that are too high or too low in sound frequency may be impossible to replicate or cause considerable strain on the user's body.