#silk rose garland

[eikaebana]

Shop from our selection of Vine Silk Rose Garlands which are perfect for creating stunning wedding arches or floral arrangements for your wedding decoration. Best Price Guaranteed! https://shop.eikaebana.com

[minahinoo]

Evening dress, c. 1810. Machine-made silk net, embroidered with chenille thread; with silk ribbon; hand sewn.

Dress of red silk machine-made net, with high waist, low neck and short, slightly gathered sleeves. The bodice fastens at the centre back with a narrow red silk ribbon at the waistline. The neckband and sleeves and a v-shaped insertion in the bodice front are embroidered with a design of rosebud garlands worked in pink, red and green chenille. This embroidery is repeated at the hem, with a wider trail of roses and rosebuds. It apparently had a red under-dress.

[oneforthemunny]

light my morning sky |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: three wedding ceremonies, and it's stop number two in vegas. a night with your friends, celebrating you the way both of you love, and it leads to a rather intense wedding night for the two of you in sin city.

contains: minors dni. smut. fluff but mainly smut. drugs and alcohol, overall just partying in vegas. getting married in vegas. dom!eddie x sub!reader. bratty overtones to sub!reader. more of a soft!dom with rockstar!eddie bc he's in loooveeeee. spanking with implement (paddle/crop). thigh riding kinda. crawling. pinvsex. language. nothing too harsh or mean bc it's their (second) wedding night lol.

"I now pronounce you married." Elvis, or one of his many replicas on the strip, rasped in his low, exaggerated drawl mimicking the beloved singer. His hair perfectly coiffed, sideburns trimmed, and dressed in a black jumpsuit with wings, red and gold sequins trim.

Flamboyant, over the top- it was Eddie's dream.

Eddie grinned at you, his hands in yours, thumb brushing over the large stone on your left hand. He looked like The King himself in his white tasseled suit, pointed collar, and blue beading down the deep V of his shirt- an identical suit made to look exactly like Elvis' infamous jumpsuit from his time in Las Vegas in the 70's. It had been a prop in some show your father was producing, one that you and Eddie borrowed after the wedding.

"Eddie, you may now kiss your little darlin' here." The officiant grinned, stepping back towards the faux-rose garland, strung with bright lights.

Your heart swelled in your chest, just as light and giddy as the first ceremony, letting Eddie cup your face, pulling you in to seal with a kiss, far more passionate and needy than the ceremony in California.

Cheers erupted from the small crowd of friends you'd rallied for the big day- well, the second big day. Their booze soaked giggles and screeches mashed to the tune of Can't Help Falling In Love pouring out of the static filled old speakers. Flashes blinded your vision, even behind your closed eyes, camera clicks and bright snaps of camera light capturing every moment.

For a moment, you tensed, aware of your rounded shoulders, of Eddie's hand grabbing at your ass, eyes opening and cutting towards the aisle. Jonathan stood there, face hidden by the camera. Eddie had insisted his friend from Hawkins come instead, replace the snooty photographer that had done the ceremony before. Your parents had raved about him, but Eddie didn't see what the big deal was with him. He just made you both look so stiff, so unnatural in your portraits.

Eddie's hand slid up the silk material of your tiny dress, gripped onto your hip, bunching the material. You could feel his wedding band in the small of your back when he pressed his hand there, steadying you before he tipped you back. A deep dip of a kiss, your thigh hiked around his hip.

The small bouquet of white roses you'd bought at the front of the chapel fell onto the patterned carpet, your friends' screeching and whooping laughs ignited by the dramatics. They expected nothing less from Eddie- from both of you.

"Lord have mercy," The officiant laughed, fanning himself dramatically, long metallic sleeves rippling. "These two have lots of hunk-a, hunk-a burnin' love, don't they folks?"

Eddie could feel your lips twitch against his, a snort of a giggle, hot air blowing against his lip. His dopey and dimpled grin met you when you finally pulled apart. It left you weak, blistering in his intense, love filled gaze.

A pop of Perignon filled the room, Gareth and Farrah bumbling closer with two glasses, trying to stop the excess spilling over. A celebratory toast to the two of you, to keep your buzz going after the break in the bender you took for the ceremony.

Since you'd landed on Thursday night, the party hadn't stopped. Liquor flowing, loud music, sloppily piling into a stall with your own friends, taking bumps off your room keys before stumbling back to the club in your designer shoes, ready to keep the party going.

The afterparty was no different. Tucked away in a private villa at Ceasar's, you didn't make it to the club. Eddie had insisted he had to go first, nearly pushing Jeff over to get to the door, scooping you up in his arms and walking you through the door.

"Watch your fuckin' head, baby- don't lean back." You could smell the alcohol on his breath, a pungent mixture of too many to name, mixed with the faintest whiff of smoke from his cigarettes.

It didn't take long for Nick to find the boom box, blaring his party mixtape at a wall shaking volume, everyone scattering. Some to the kitchen to scour through the piles of empty bottles for a full one, others to collapse into the couch and let someone line up a pick me up before plunging in the hot tub outside.

"You," Eddie slurred, his head dipping down to press against your forehead. "Look so fuckin' beautiful." Nose brushing against yours, red from his own party favors.

You giggled nasally, blinking blearily eyed to focus on him to close to you. The effects of the tequila and champagne and hodge podge of liquor you'd mixed and consumed catching up with you.

"You know what, baby? You look really good, Mr. Munson." You whispered, hand cupping his jaw. "Like- hic!- too good to be fucking true."

"You're sweet talkin' me? Huh? Bein' s'nice to me?" Eddie grinned, fingers sinking into your hips.

"Yeah." You hummed.

"Tryna get my pants off or somethin', huh, baby? G-Get in my pants by bein' so sweet? You think that's gonna work?" Eddie teased, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeahhh..." You nodded, staggering against him, manicured nails raking down his bare chest. "We have to- to consummate the marriage, Ed."

"What?" Eddie furrowed his brows. "We gotta do what? Wait- I thought you wanted to fuck."

You laughed, head tilting back letting out that mean little cackle that always got Eddie worked up- a little mocking, mostly genuine. It left him flushed in heat, crawling up his chest and splattering over his cheeks.

"You dumbass, that is what that means." You rolled your eyes at him.

Eddie's eyes narrowed with you, catching your chin easily. "Oh? That's how you wanna play tonight, hm?" He shook his head, your body erupting in a fiery heat. "You're not gonna be nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to you." You countered, hand closing around his wrist gently, steadying yourself. "You're the one who's mean."

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned, eyes shining, glimmering in the low light of the room, the music from the other side thudding in a low roar, still shaking the walls. "You want me to be mean to you tonight? That's how you wanna do this?"

"Yeah." You sighed, a devious little grin that had Eddie's heart swelling, body buzzing with bouts of electricity. A shock to his system that brought him into something animalistic and primal and thrilling. Something new he only felt with you.

"I was hopin' you'd want to. Figured you would. Went ahead and got you a little somethin'." Eddie hummed, pulling you close into him. His breath hot on your cheek, booze soaked and warm on your skin.

"A gift?" Your eyes lit up, bright and devious all at once. Positively troublesome.

"Yeah. A gift. Just for you, baby." Eddie's lip dragged over your cheek, nose, hands sliding up your neck into your hair. "A wedding gift, but-but not for the wedding. For the after."

"Mm," You moaned lightly, his lips brushing with yours, teasing. Just enough to make you want to kiss him fully, leave you waiting and wanting more. "It's after now, Ed." You batted your lashes up at him.

"Is it?" Eddie muttered, fingers curling around your hair the back of your head.

"Yeah." You whispered, voice raspy from the liquor. "Time to give me my gift."

"Ooh, you're gonna be demanding?" Eddie pulled back from you, holding you at arms length so he could see you. Your pout, glassy eyes rounding instinctively- a classic look, teetering on demanding and begging, a signature look for you.

"'M not being demanding." You huffed, hands sliding over his arms. He could feel the diamonds of your wedding band scratch lightly over his skin. "You said you had a gift for me."

Eddie bit back a smirk, squeezing your shoulders with firm, gentle affection. You grinned triumphantly when he stumbled to his closet, puling a red gift bag tied together with a gold bow.

He smirked at your squeal of delight, hands clapping together excitedly when he gave you the bag. "What is it?" You beamed, a peal of excited, drunken giggles spilling from your chest.

"Open it." Eddie clicked, shaking his head at you. "What's in it- open the damn thing, baby. It's a present. 'M not tellin' you w-what I got you." His words slurred, still silly and playful.

You laughed, head spinning and intoxicatingly airy with glee, unraveling the gold spun ribbon with a dramatic tug of your hand. Underneath the piles of tissue paper, a long box lied at the bottom.

There, inside the felt lined box, a small heart shaped paddled. Black and leather, with a black, metal handle. It was small, smaller than most of Eddie's chosen paddles. The heart shape at the end firmer than the crop, not as flimsy as you expected.

"Look," Eddie pointed, swaying gently in front of you. He turned the handle clumsily around his hands before he turned it to you. There in etched gold, your names and the date carved into the metal handle.

"Ed." You cooed, head tilting back to meet his gaze. "You got this f'me?"

"Well, kinda." Eddie nodded. "I mean, for me to use on you, but yeah. Wanted something to-to remember this by."

Lips pulling in a smile, you stood, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush to your own chest. "You're so sweet." You hum, swaying with him softly. "So sweet to me."

Eddie's cheeks flushed, matching the drunken red heat painted on his neck. "Yeah." He hummed, hands sliding over your cheeks, smearing your already rubbed off foundation, tilting your head back towards him.

"'M not gonna be sweet to you f'long." He muttered, lip twitching in a curling grin. Staticky prickles of excitement licked at your neck, shimmering all the way down to your core. Eddie's tongue ran over his teeth, brow raising. "That alright with you, baby?"

"Yes." You whispered, nails digging into his hands lightly, steadying yourself.

Eddie caught your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "Who?" His tone dropped, low and raspy but punctuated.

The nervous, maybe excited, giggle spilled out of your lips before you could stop it. Eyes shining, swaying with excitement, you batted your lashes towards him. "Yes, Sir." You purred, hands sliding, nails raking down his forearms.

Eddie grinned, ducking down to catch your lips in a hungry kiss. Hand pressed to the small of your spine, you could taste the liquor on his tongue as it slid past your teeth. A sloppy, needy, alcohol fueled make out. Hands grabbing, pulling at the other, pushing your bodies closer and closer together until it felt like they might fuse together, mold into one. Hands sliding, bunching the material of your dress up your hips.

"Wait!" Your eyes flew open, pulling apart with an urgency that had Eddie jumping.

"What? What's wrong?" Eddie's brows furrowed, vision fading blearily in and out of focus.

"I forgot," You turned towards your suitcase. "I bought something special for tonight. S-Somethin' to put on." You muttered, swaying drunkenly, hands on his waist to steady yourself.

"Baby, it's alright. Just save it for tomorrow-"

"-No." Your tone was cutting, huffy with a hint of demanding- bratty. You did it best, Eddie supposed, his cock twitching at the sound.

He wanted to grab the paddle, haul you over his knee right then, feel you scratch and scream at him like old times. Instead, he let you stomp off, bunching a flash of white material to your chest, stumbling towards the bathroom.

It was worth it, Eddie decided. Legs spread on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing with anticipation until the doors opened.

"Are you ready?" He could hear your grin, hidden by the door.

"Yeah. Show me, baby. Come on out." Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin.

The door opened painfully slow, your own teasing reveal, until you stood before him in a tiny, white, see through lacy lingerie set. A classic, more scandalous and revealing than before. Bra and panties so revealing it left little to the imagination, hip hugging garter that connected to two leg holders, both with their own loops. Eddie pictured for a moment tying you up by them, stringing the rope through them, tying your legs wide open and spending the rest of the night- hell, the whole week in between them.

Maybe tomorrow night. Tonight, he had other plans.

Eddie's loud wolf whistle mixed with your bubbling giggles. "Holy shit, baby, look at you. No, look at me, but I wanna look at you." Eddie rasped, hands sliding over your exposed skin, rubbing the lace of your garter, pulling the tiny strap of your panties so it snapped to your skin.

"You like it?" You whispered, watching his eyes carefully. You knew he did. He always did.

"You kidding? Love it." Eddie grinned. "Worth the wait, beautiful."

Your cheeks burned with a rush of euphoric excitement, hands sliding up his shoulder, your ring sparkling even under the dim lights of the room.

"Ok, I'm ready now." You said boldly, lashes batting up to Eddie sweetly. "I just wanted to put this on for you."

"Oh? You're ready?" Eddie snorted lightly, lips curling in a smirk. "You callin' the shots?"

You huffed, an eye roll that had Eddie swallowing hard, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. "No," Your tongue clicked sarcastically. "Obviously you're in charge for right now."

"Oh, it's like that?" Eddie scoffed. "You're gonna act like that?"

"I'm not acting like anything, Ed." You bit your lip playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about." Oh, you were playful tonight. Eddie's heart swelled, palms twitching with excitement.

"Hm," Eddie hummed, tongue running down the inside of his cheek.

"Why don't you go get your gift." Eddie nodded towards the discarded paddle at the other end of the bed. You stepped towards it. "Nuh-uh-uh." Eddie clicked, head shaking.

"You know how you're supposed to get things for me." His eyes darkened, narrowing towards you.

Your thighs twitched, aching between them with a familiar heat. "Ed," Whiny and nasally, shoulders slumping for effect.

"You're gonna whine? C'mon, I know you know better." Eddie shook his head. "I don't wanna be mean to you tonight. Not too mean, anyways. Don't make me be mean. Go get your gift and bring it here, you know what to do. You be good for me, and I'll be good to you."

It didn't take much convincing, not when your head was spinning the way it was, desperate to please him. You knew he was true to his word, that he'd make you feel so good, which was exactly why you sunk to your knees. Crawling across the carpeted floors, you crept slowly towards the paddle.

Eddie watched through heavy lids, the sway of your hips, tiny panties riding up into your ass with every crawl. Your eyes met his when you raised up, gently grabbing the paddle off the bed. Eddie's heart lurched with excitement when you slipped it between your teeth, sinking back to your knees.

"Holy shit... Baby," Eddie groaned, leg shaking furiously when you rounded the corner of the bed, crawling straight for him. "Look at you. Jesus Christ, you know what you're doin'?"

You sunk back on your knees, settling between Eddie's open legs, eyes rounded so sweetly up at him it answered his question- you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

"'M just trying to be good." You whispered sweetly, head tilting to the side when he took to the paddle from you. "I just want to be so good for you always and forever, Mr. Munson."

Eddie thought he might snap the paddle in half, grip strangling in a tight hold around the pole. For a second, he contemplated again diving right between your legs, kinky foreplay be damned. Instead, he pulled you over his knee, let you straddle his thigh, covered cunt hot on his knee.

"Look at me." Eddie rasped, pulling your chin up, letting it rest on his chest, your body folded over his. "I wanna look at you. Wanna see you the whole time."

You pressed your lips together, swallowing back a pathetic whine. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other dragging the paddle along your exposed cheeks.

"You wanna be good for me?" Eddie whispered. You didn't reply, didn't get the chance to before the paddle snapped onto your ass. A jump, a whine, followed by Eddie's coaxing whisper back onto his knee.

"I asked you somethin', sweetheart." Eddie muttered, the crop tapping your other cheek. "You wanna be good for me?" Two sharp hits one to each cheek had you hissing.

"Yes." You hissed through gritted teeth, stilling your hips not to grind on him, hump his leg mercilessly. You knew that'd just fuel his cruel teasing even more.

"Yeah?" You yelped at the sharp sting.

"Yes, I wanna be good for you." Your spine ached at the uncomfortable bend in position, still you didn't dare move. It was true, you did want to be good for him.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Eddie whispered, nose nearly touching yours.

You bit back a giggle, stopped by three more sharp spanks of the crop to your ass, already itchy with growing agitation. "Yeah." Your eyes shone up at Eddie's, a silly, love sick grin that had him swooning.

"Yeah?" Eddie mocked back with a light snort. It was growing harder to keep the mean, domineering persona he tried to. When you were being this sweet, when you were being so good for him.

The crop fell again, this time your hips did roll. Just enough to dull the ache between your legs, a momentary release that had you melting further into his chest.

Eddie didn't miss it, pulling you closer to him, readjusting you on his thigh. "I don't know if I believe you." Eddie hummed, cracking the crop down again in short, sharp successions. "Are you really gonna be good to me? For the rest of time?"

You whimpered, hips rocking slowly, a steady rhythm that nearly had your eyes rolling back. The burning stretch of your ass mixed with the slow, pleasure-filled rolls of your hips.

"I will, I promise." You hummed in a high, breathy tone. "I swear I will be. I'll be a good wife for you. Forever and ever and ever."

Eddie's heart nearly burst at the words. How sweet they still sounded, even if you had technically been his wife for a few weeks now.

He let the paddle fall, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you into his lap. Lips on yours, your legs wrapping around his hips before he rolled the two of you, body slotting over yours, drunken giggles filling the air.

Hand intertwining with the other, Eddie's eyes rolled back at the feeling of your ring scraping over his when he finally slid into you. Mrs. Munson, forever. Forever his, just as he was forever yours.

Eddie had you pressed against the window of the suite, hips rutting into the fat of your ass, marked with the etching heart shape of the paddle. Overlooking the city's skyline, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Your cheek pressed to the window, Eddie's pressed to yours, skin smushed to skin, the two of you weren't close to being done. Just getting started, started on forever, started on a life together.

For now, in a hotel room in Vegas, insatiably happy and in love with one another. Mr. and Mrs. Munson, for the second time.

[chic-a-gigot]

L'Art et la mode, no. 52, vol. 21, 29 décembre 1900, Paris. Roses de Noël. Dessin de J. Portalez. Bibliothèque nationale de France

Manteau de panne mauve, drapé par une boucle "art nouveau" entourée de petits velours violets. Le bas et les parements sont dessinés d’iris en taffetas chiffonné, tons naturels.

Purple panne coat, draped by an "art nouveau" buckle surrounded by small purple velvets. The bottom and the facings are with an iris design in crumpled taffeta, natural tones.

—

Manteau en hermine et zibeline. L’hermine cesse sous une guirlande de roses incrustée en taffetas et panne peints. Volants de mousseline de soie blanche semée de roses et pétales incrustés en taffetas et panne, avec çà et là, du strass en gouttes de rosée. Col, revers et bandes de zibeline à l intérieur du vêtement.

Coat in ermine and sable. The ermine ends under a garland of roses inlaid in painted taffeta and panne. Ruffles of white silk muslin sown with roses and petals inlaid in taffeta and panne, with here and there, rhinestones in dewdrops. Collar, lapels and bands of sable inside the garment.

—

Manteau tout en zibeline et velours noir, avec agrafe "art nouveau" or et rubis Les nœuds qui courent sur le volant sont aussi fixés par des motifs "art nouveau".

Coat entirely in sable and black velvet, with gold and ruby ​​"art nouveau" clasp. The bows running along the flounce are also attached by "art nouveau" motifs.

—

Mante en chinchilla, doublée de volants de mousseline de soie rose et lilas superposée en transparent. Capuchon de dentelle et fouillis de' dentelle resserré par un tour de cou de roses sans feuillage. Pans en dentelle enguirlandés de roses et attachés de nœuds de velours noir.

Chinchilla mantle, lined with pink and lilac silk chiffon ruffles in a transparent overlay. Lace hood and lace tangle tightened by a neckband of roses without foliage. Lace panels garlanded with roses and tied with black velvet bows.

—

Manteau de velours améthyste, avec col et revers en hermine. Le haut brodé de galons et de guipure d’or formant boléro. Même galon d’or aux manches. Manches intérieures en mousseline de soie mauve. Agrafe or et opales.

Amethyst velvet coat, with ermine collar and lapels. The top embroidered with gold braid and guipure forming a bolero. Same gold braid on the sleeves. Inner sleeves in mauve chiffon. Gold and opal clasp.

[xxx-wounded-angel-xxx]

Tear you appart - Felix Volturi x reader

Felix Volturi x fem! reader - contains smut

3456 words

content warning : swearing, darker and wilder than my usual Felix, possessive Felix, size difference (both him and reader like it) - Smut ahead ! please no judgment, this is the first time I'm writing some I tried my best I feel so embarrassed 😅 Stop at the divider if you don't want the smutty part that contains : dirty talk, voice kink, size kink, penetration, virgin reader (she's an adult in her 20's !), praise kink

Taglist : @agirllovespancakes <3

At first, you weren’t sure what to make of your mate. First, Felix was big. Like…two meters tall and really muscular. Like wow. And second, he… was busy. Like very busy, which you could comprehend since he was one of the highest ranked guards of the Volturi Coven. And the executioner… that's it you had said it. His job was to brutally kill people, and you did not fully know what to make of him because of that.

He was kind to you of course. But you could barely see him. He had a very important place in the coven after all, it would be mean to hold it against him, he couldn’t help it after all. But it was making it harder for you to understand him, how could you get to know him better if he wasn’t there with you?

Ever since you were staying with the Volturi after finding out that you were Felix’s soulmate, your existence had gotten kind of lonely. The current secretary would go shopping with you if you needed something but you were mostly staying in your quarters that were adjacent to Felix’s. So, you decided to spend the time by decorating as much as you could your quarters to your own taste.

As a goth, you took advantage of the Halloween season to buy home decor. Artificial black roses, deep red and purple ones, black lace curtains, gothic prints you paired with vintage looking frames Heidi found for you in an abandoned room… You kept the walls white but painted the furniture black. Lots of bookshelves were acquired to hold your book collection, CDs and DVDs, Felix had made sure you had a good TV and even better stereo when you said you basically lived with music. Anne Stokes and Victoria Frances’ art hung all over your walls, nemesis now dark fairy figures and cult cuties shelved neatly above your desk, nightmare before Christmas plushies and figures scattered all around your quarters with the occasional Hello Kitty and Kuromi: it was starting to look like home.

When December came by you bought red velvet curtains, and red crystal beads. A lot of them. Surprisingly, you were now finding every week rose bouquet, that you would put to dry and keep in elegant vases. You were sure they were from Felix, even if he never mentioned it the few times the two of you had met in November.

You were working on the canopy of the bed, after installing the black lace curtains and strings of white pearls that were easy to find as Christmas tree ornament, you were making garlands of red crystal beads that would reflect the light all around your bed canopy. Attaching bead after bead, you were disrupted by Felix. You looked at him, surprised as you saw him sit beside you on the black silk sheets of your bed.

“Good evening my darling mate”

This evening, you finally got to spend time with your mate. He apologized for his lack of presence beside you, the coven had been exceptionally busy and he had not been able to give you the time you deserved. But now, he was here, and could finally take care of you, his mate, properly.

You talked for hours that night, She Wants Revenge playing low in the background as you finally got to know each other.

But no matter how interesting this all was, you were getting tired. Felix noticed your yawn, and with a smile put you to bed, tucking you in and gently kissed your forehead goodnight.

Your Felix held his promise. Week after week you got to know the other better. Going from strangers to friends… to more. After a few months you realized that Felix wasn’t a friend anymore. No, he was more. You wanted him to be more. But it wasn’t easy. He was your soulmate! It was supposed to be easy! But it wasn’t. At all.

Spring came and left, and so did summer. It was the middle of autumn, and you still did not know how to tell your soulmate you liked him. How could you? How could a simple human compare to a vampire? He had not turned you yet, it seemed that he quite enjoyed your human habits for now. Maybe he liked your softness, the warmth of your skin or the color of your eyes? But that did not resolve your problem. How could you tell him when you had never done this before? You were in your twenties and not had your fist kiss yet!

You had started a diary to keep your memories, express your feelings and your thoughts. And the most recent entries were all about him. About Felix, the gleam in his eyes, the way his skin shone brightly under the sunlight, how hot you had found the glimpses of his toned and muscular body you had been able to see, the way his thunderous laugh made your heart smile… How… You love him. That’s it, you had admitted it fully: you loved him. It was written black on white in your diary. Your heart was in his hands. You did not need a prayer when you had his name.

That was the last line you wrote, leaving your diary on your bed as you left your bedroom to take a relaxing bath before going to bed in your favorite attire.

You came out of the bathroom, all clean and fresh, humming some She Wants Revenge song, when you froze. Felix. Felix was sitting on your bed. Felix was sitting on your bed holding your diary. Felix was reading your diary where you very explicitly wrote how much you loved him. Fuck.

 When Felix looked at you, you felt like you could die from embarrassment. You tried to leave, but in the blink of an eye you found yourself your back against a wall, Felix’s body pressed against yours preventing you from running away. Anyway, where would you have gone? This was your room, for fuck’s sake! You shivered as he used his big hand to raise your head so he could look you in the eyes.

“You meant it?”

“What”

“What you wrote in your diary about me. You mean it?”

You had never seen Felix that serious before, his husky voice had lost all humor.

“It… It is… Yes, it is true. I … I really mean it.”

You blurted out the last words, anxious. What if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear? What if he hated you now? What if… Wait, why was he smiling?

“You have no idea how long I’ve longed for this. May I?”

You nodded, not sure what he was asking for. He cupped your cheek, and to your surprise he kissed you. You closed your eyes.

It was better than what you had read in your books, much better. His lips were soft against yours, his kiss tender but quite possessive at the same time. You returned it, quite clumsily due to your inexperience, but still with enthusiasm. He was the one to break it so you could breathe again. You were only human after all. Your body needed it.

“Damn, that was…”

He laughed at your reaction.

“Can you do it again?”

Smirking, he eagerly accepted your request.

Later, when you were too tired to stay awake, Felix accepted to stay under the covers and hold you. The feeling of his strong and much bigger body wrapped around your much smaller frame brought unholy thoughts to your mind, that you quickly shook away, but it still let you the time to show slight embarrassment. You thought for a moment that Felix would take advantage of it, but he didn’t, only kissing the top of your head and bringing you closer to his body.

“Does that mean that we are together now?” “You could say that dolcezza.” “So you’re my boyfriend?” “Absolutely not. I’m your mate. If you want a more human term, just say that I’m your husband.”

You looked at him, shocked, and that little shit that was your mate had the biggest grin you’d ever seen.

“I… I think mate is an appropriate term.” “As you wish.”

Your heart was beating so fast he couldn’t not hear it, and his bright smile was the confirmation. Luckily for you, Felix had decided to go easy on you for tonight. But you feared what his teasing would be like…

You fell asleep with these thoughts in mind, Felix’s arms holding you tight against him. “Buonanotte tesoro mio, ti amo…”

When you woke up the next day, Felix was still here, holding you.

“Hi” “Hi. Slept well?” “Yes” “Good”

Bringing you closer to him, Felix buried his face in your neck. You froze as it felt like he was smelling you, and he left a kiss where he could feel your pulse. Being this close to him felt nice, really nice. He smelled good, too. Something musky, homey.

“Are you sniffing me?” “You did a few moments ago” “Touché.” A pause. “So?” “You smell nice. Like home.” “Ah, that’s a mate thing, you know? I smell good like that to you only.” “And me? What do I smell like?” “The tastiest thing I’ve ever met.” “Felix!” “What?! You should take this as a compliment! You smell delicious!”

He had that cocky look that looked so good on him. You couldn't wait to spend forever with him.

It was near Christmas now. More than one year since you met Felix, a few months since you realized you loved him, and a few weeks since the two of you were fully mated. Well fully… There was something the two of you had not done yet. It was… sex. For fuck’s sake, you were an adult, you could say the word sex! But… that did not erase the fact that you had basically no experience in dating. Felix was your first kiss… and would be your first lover. The thing was that he was not aware of it. How could you tell him! This man was cocky enough, if you told him, it would sign you way to a never-ending teasing! Fuck. Wait, that was the point! This man – or vampire – was going to be the death of you.

Your thoughts were a complete mess. You were sure than even Aro couldn’t understand a single shit if he were to read your mind. Which was why it was a good thing that he hadn’t asked for a while. But maybe it could actually help? Wait no! You couldn’t let him know you were desperately trying to get in the pants of his executioner. All of it was driving you crazy.

You tried to keep up with appearances with Felix, behaving as normal as you could with him, but you couldn’t help but let some touches linger more than necessary, brush against him every time you were close with him, dragging the kisses as long as you could without accidentally killing yourself from the lack of oxygen… All of it you thought Felix didn’t notice. But that was forgetting something: your mate was very much a predator. And as a human, you were very much prey for him, even as his mate.

Your heartbeat running faster when he was close, the way his low voice would send shivers down your spine, or how some kisses and touches could get you clenching your thighs… Felix noticed everything, and your asshole of a mate was reveling in it, your love like the thrill of the hunt. He took great pleasure in it, day after day, trying to drive you crazy until you would be your back against a wall, forced to tell him exactly what you wanted. And he would make sure you beg for it, dragging the thrill of the hunt as long as he could. But lucky for you, he loved you more than it. He would try to not make you beg, not too much at least.

Your Felix had become great at reading you, your expressions, your desires. And being as old as he was, it had not been hard for him to put two and two together: the way you returned his affection, always eager but also quite clumsily, always holding back afraid of going too far or doing wrong… That darker, possessive side off him was extremely satisfied of it, no one had touched you like that before, no one but him, you were forever his.

After a few weeks, your struggles were not funny anymore, he wanted you to feel desired, to not see your inexperience as a bad thing. You were so damn beautiful and desirable; he would show you how much he wanted you.

He would be off duty for the next few days, it was perfect. The next time he would get in your bed, you would not be sleeping for a good while.

For the past few days, it seemed like Felix was toying with you, always managing to get you where and how he wanted. He was slowly taking you out of your comfort zone, it was like he had something in mind as he would hold you close, soft breath in the crook of your neck sending shivers down your spine. He would let you back up if you were too uncomfortable, of course, but the bastard knew what he was doing, always taking you further and further of your comfort zone without crossing your boundaries, teaching you a few things about you in the meantime. Damn, did you always have that size and voice kink or was it of his doing? Fuck, you had no idea but did not care much, it was too good for the reasons why to matter anymore.

All of this led you to that very moment, your Felix towering over you, your back against the wall of your room. Voice low, whispering in your ear, driving you crazy.

“Aren’t you pretty like that, all flustered? Your blood smell so good I might just eat you…”

Of course, this led you to grow even more flustered, your blood rushing and tempting him even more. He took another step, and lowered his head even more, leaving cold kisses on your neck, his cool breath driving you crazy. You move your head to give him a better access, and let out a soft moan as his teeth scrap your neck.

“You like that don’t you? To be all helpless as soon as I touch you. My beautiful darling…”

He lifts you, claiming your lips and you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist. He bites your lower lip, and you let out a soft gasp, your Felix taking advantage of it, his tongue meeting yours to explore your mouth. After a while the two of you part, soft panting can be heard from you. At this moment, you realize you left your stereo on, and as your notice what song is playing you send to hell every hesitation and kiss him passionately.

“I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight

Lie still, close your eyes, girl, so lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close, soft breast, beating heart

As I whisper in your ear, "I wanna fucking tear you apart"

It drives the both of you crazy, leaving you only wanting more, more than everything you had already done. So when Felix carries you to the bed, you continue to kiss him. When he lays you on the bed, climbing on top of you, you drag him close and deepen the kiss. When he takes off your shirt, you unbutton his, hands roaming everywhere on the other’s body in a frenzy haze, kisses left everywhere.

“I want you” you pause. “No, I need you.” You let out a moan as he rips your bra and leave kisses on your breast, a smile oh so smug brightening his face as he finds your sensitive spot. You writhe underneath him, clenching your thighs together, left wanting more, needing more of him.  

“Felix…” His name leaves your mouth as a soft moan, and he can’t help but chuckle at your neediness, he’s finally got you where he wants you to be, he’s going to drag on this teasing as much as he can.

“That’s my name darling, say it again…”

He’s so smug but you can’t help but do as he say, especially when his pants and yours disappear, and his hand slip in your silky panties. As he brushes against your clit, you can’t help but buckle your hips, trying to get more friction where you need him the most.

“Eager, aren’t we?”  Always that smug expression, he knows he is driving you crazy and he revels in it: you’re his and he is the only one able to get these reactions from you. He leans over you, pressing his body against yours, claiming your lips once again. You whimper as you can feel his hard bulge against you, increasing your arousal to an extent you didn’t know was possible. But you weren’t the only one left craving for more.

“Please Felix…” “I need you to use your words tesorina. Tell me, what you want?” “You. I want you I need you!” “So greedy my darling… Is that what you want?”

You can’t answer him as he rips your panties, throwing away what’s left of them before making his own underwear meet the same fate. He’s bigger than you anticipated, yet the only thing you can focus on is how much you want him inside of you.

Not breaking eye contact with you, he strokes his penis a few times, making sure it’s slick with his precum and your arousal, and get on top of you, teasing your wet folds with his hard length.

“Are you sure you want this?” He looks at you with such seriousness, trying to read your face and be sure this is what you want, that he’s not going further than you’re comfortable with. “Yes Felix please” “You only have one word to say and I’ll stop if it’s too much for you”

You nod, and satisfied with your approval Felix thrust into you. You moan at the feeling; you feel so full of him. You expected it to hurt, being your first time, but it doesn’t, your love prepared you enough.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it my darling? My cock filling you up, bringing you more pleasure than you’ve ever had.”

You can only whine and moan, too lost in the pleasure you’re experiencing for the first time. Felix eats up every of your reactions, satisfied that only him get to make you feel this good.

“You’re so responsive to my touch” Felix praises you, and his words do something to you you weren’t aware of it being possible. Something good. Really good. Felix, attentive to all of your reactions, notice and whispers sweet praises in your ear, driving you wild. He thrusts faster, eliciting more moans from you. It feels so good, you can only focus on him and the pleasure he gives you, moaning his name.

“I love hearing you cry out my name, tesoro. It’s music to my ears.”

He finally finds an especially sensitive spot of yours, hitting it relentlessly, eliciting moan after moan from you. He growls in pleasure, getting you closer and closer. You feel something ready to snap inside of you.

“Please Felix I’m close so close!” “That’s it darling, come for me.” He kisses your shoulder. “Come for me, let me feel how much you love me. I’ll be right behind you, filling you with everything I have.”

The pad of this finger brushes against your clit, and with his dirty words it’s enough to make you snap, riding the first climax of your life. Your Felix follows quickly, his cool cum filling your cunt as he moans your name, “you’re mine all mine my [Y/N] forever mine never letting you go my sweet and beautiful [Y/N]”

You fall back on the bed, trembling with pleasure and exhaustion. Sliding out of you, Felix admires for a moment your mixed release dripping down your inner thighs, before laying down beside you and holding you close, whispering sweet praises in your ear. He kisses your forehead tenderly, and you snuggle closer to him.

“I love you” “I love you too tesorina”

Exhausted, you fall asleep, safe and spent in your mate’s arms, Felix never letting you go for a second, holding you tight against him the whole time. This is what eternity should feel like, and he will make sure it always is that way for you.  

[breelandwalker]

Flower Moon - May 22-23, 2024

Ready your gathering baskets and your best shoes for traipsing, witches - it’s time to greet the Flower Moon!

Flower Moon

The Flower Moon gives us the fulfillment of the first flush of the Pink Moon, with fragrant blossoms greeting us at every turn and heralding the merry month of May. The floral name for this particular cycle is shared by a number of indigenous nations, include the Algonquin, Anishnaabe, and Dakota. Other names include Budding Moon and Frog Moon (Cree), Planting Moon (Dakota and Lakota), and the Moon of Mulberry (Choctaw).

European names for this moon include Milk Moon (Anglo-Saxon) and Hare Moon (Celtic, allegedly). Some modern pagan circles also call it the Grass Moon as well, since the flourishing of grasslands is more common in some areas than the appearance of flowers.

This full moon peaks during daylight hours in the Western Hemisphere (around 9:53am EDT), so the moon may appear to be full on both the nights of the 22nd and 23rd.

What Does It Mean For Witches?

As we pass the spring rites and move toward the summer season, it’s the perfect time to celebrate your growth and the ways in which you want to flourish. This is the season for romance and love, and not just that which comes when we put on flower crowns and go a-Maying. This is a time to love ourselves as much as each other, to celebrate our bonds, and to be reminded of our own beauty and strength. Remember the things you love about yourself and consciously take a moment to remind your loved ones how much you care for them.

It is also a time to celebrate fertility, be it animal, vegetable, mineral, or spiritual. Put new plans into action, start that project you’ve been meaning to do, embark on that new hobby or activity you wanted to try. If you have a long-term goal or a big project, now is the time to outline your path to completion and plan how to direct your energy so you don’t burn out halfway through. Don’t hold back - break through the walls of imposter syndrome and anxiety, indulge in your creative urges, and let your inspiration soar. What you choose to plant and nurture now determines what you will harvest later in the year. And above all, remember to have FUN!

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

If you’ve been feeling the urge to do some flower-related magic, now is the perfect time! Familiarize yourself with the wildflowers in your area and if possible, maybe grab your basket and scissors and go on a foraging trip. Remember to properly identify flowers before picking them, don’t overharvest, and don’t take anything from private property without permission or from national parks full stop. You can press the flowers with a notebook and something flat and heavy, or you can dry them in hanging bunches, in a cardboard tray, or in a low-temp oven for later use.

This is also a good opportunity to get your hands in the dirt and connect with the land where you live. If there are plants in your care, take a little time to do some pruning and watering. Check them for spring pests and treat where needed. Give them some love - talk to them, sing to them, encourage them to grow tall and strong and abundant. Bless them as you tend their plots and reaffirm your commitment to be a good caretaker.

As an exercise, try making flower crowns, garlands, bouquets, wreaths, or centerpieces using plant correspondences, flower language, or color magic for a desired effect. This can be done with real flowers or silk ones, depending on how long you want to keep them around. Try your hand at making flower water with roses or other blooms - it makes a wonderful base for moon water!

Experiment with recipes for dishes and drinks that use edible flowers too! Whether it’s color-changing butterfly peaflower tea, sweet and peppery nasturtium, adorable pressed pansy shortbread cookies, or the tried-and-true comforts of chamomile, flowers have many tasty secrets to offer. Don’t be afraid to add botanicals to your health and beauty routine as well! (Just make sure nothing’s going to negatively interact with your meds or irritate a pre-existing condition. Safety first!)

Whether you do so with your near-and-dear, your witchy circle, or by yourself, celebrate everything that blooms - including you!

Happy Flower Moon, witches! 🌕🌼

Further Reading:

Additional Lunar Calendar posts by Bree NicGarran

Flower Moon: Full Moon in May 2024, The Old Farmer’s Almanac

Moonrise and Moonset Calculator, The Old Farmer’s Almanac

Flower Meanings: Symbolism of Flowers, Herbs, and More Plants, The Old Farmer’s Almanac

Floriography, the Language of Flowers, AllFlorists.co.uk

Flower Power: Flower Moon Spiritual Meaning and Stunning Magic, The Peculiar Brunette

How to Dry Flowers 5 Ways, MasterClass, June 7, 2021

DIY Floral Water or Hydrosol, Patti Estep, Hearth and Vine, July 4, 2021

17 Edible Flower Recipes, Better Homes and Gardens, March 8, 2022

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

Your Vampire: Chapter Two

I Feel Pretty

(Max Phillips x f!reader)

Words: 1, 341

Summary: Max Phillips, your friend and boss, is surprised to find out you know he’s a vampire

Warnings: a whole lot of vampire lore in this chapter, no y/n, reader has nickname Garland, Max in a state of undress

Check out masterlist here

“How do you know so much about vampire lore?”

“It’s called reading.”

Sitting across from you on his luxurious couch while talking about being a vampire was not something Max was expecting today.

When he opened his luxury coffin from the floor in his basement, he was surprised to find you standing there. He was more surprised you didn’t run off screaming or fainting dead away. You stood there very calmly for one confronted with a vampire.

“So, I’m a vampire.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I-wait, you do?”

You shrugged, “It wasn’t that hard to work out.”

He made his way out of the coffin, “Brains and beauty; always knew there was a reason to love you. As my executive assistant.”

“Hey, everyone else is too dumb to notice.”

“Huh,” he closed the door in the floor. “You’re not scared I’ll kill you or something?”

You looked at him in his dark red silk pyjamas, “If you were going to kill me, you would have done it by now.”

“Good point,” he suddenly noticed you were standing in his basement. “Wait, what are you doing down here?”

“I was exploring.”

“You are supposed to be resting,” he gently picked you up like it was nothing. Now you knew that it was due to his being a vampire.

“Now, it’s either the bed or the couch.”

“Actually, I need the bathroom.”

“Fine,” he headed towards the bathroom, you still in his arms.

“Hey, I’m fine to walk the small distance. I don’t need supervision in the bathroom.”

Thanking him as he put you down, it suddenly occurred that you have been festering on the couch for too long. You lifted up an arm and gave yourself a sniff.

“Damn, I need a shower. I must stink!”

“You smell like roses to me.”

Snorting out a laugh, you made your way into the bathroom.

One shower and change of clean clothes later, you poured yourself a bowl of cereal and plopped on the couch. Max came down the spiral staircase now in his suit pants and shirt. He sat opposite you on the couch.

“So, you’re a vampire,” you said after a while.

“Yup.”

“Was that after college?”

“Well, after I was kicked out of our college, I went to this one in Romania. They had a unique approach to learning.”

“They turn all their students into vampires?”

“Not all of them, just their best students like me,” he smiled. “It’s surprisingly hard to turn people into vampires,” you looked at him in confusion. “If you do a normal turn, you’ll end up with a lesser vampire, they’re called ghouls. Well, we’re not allowed to call them ghouls anymore. They formed a union back in…”

“Max, you’re rambling.”

“So a true vampire,” Max continued. “Is one that can pass as a human and they are a lot harder to make.”

“It is? So if I wanted to be a vampire,” you started.

“You want to be a vampire?”

“If I wanted to be a vampire,” you reiterated. “How would I go about it?”

“Well,” he paused and got up. “Do you mind if I get myself something?”

“No, go ahead.”

“Do you want tea? I’ve got Darjeeling or green.”

“Sure,” you watched Max as he wandered about the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge and took out a bag of blood from the now-not secret location. He took out two mugs and filled one with blood and put a tea bag in the other.

“You’d need to get a vampire with at least one hundred years on them. And they would have to be assessed. And you’d have to undergo a medical and psychological assessment. So, there’s a lot of paperwork involved. And I hate paperwork.”

“I know, that’s why I do all your paperwork.”

“That’s why I love you. As my executive assistant,” He put the mug of blood in the microwave and turned on the kettle.

“There is another way to make a true vampire,” The microwave pinged as the kettle whistled

“There is?”

“Yeah, it’s some old vampire legend that says if a vampire finds their blood-mate, they can become a true vampire.” His back was to you, but you could still hear him.

“A blood-mate?”

“It’s like a vampire soul mate.”

“That’s a dumb name.”

“I know.”

“So how do you know you’ve found your vampire soulmate? Are there matching birthmarks?”

“There’s signs I’m sure, but it’s just a legend,” he coughed something that wasn’t stuck in his throat, and handed you a mug. “Wait, wrong one.”

He took back the one in your hand and handed you the right one. After he took a satisfying sip, he continued.  “Anyways, you must be bored with all this vampire stuff.”

“Oh no, I’m very fascinated. I’ve got a million questions for you.”

“Are you going to interview this vampire?”

“Heck yeah.”

“I should have made a PowerPoint,” he mumbled.

“My first question is: do you have a reflection?”

“Of course, I’m not missing out on seeing this gorgeous face in the mirror.”

“Can you turn into a bat?”

“And ruin this suit?”

“Wait, I’ve seen you out in the sun? Would that not hurt you?”

“Oh my dear, you are thinking Nosferatu, not Bram Stoker.” You tilted your head in question. “Sunlight only harms a lesser vampire but merely weakens a true vampire. Midday sun is the worst which is why I avoid it.”

“So no tropical vacations for you?”

“I wouldn’t be sunbathing. You can enjoy the sunshine while I stay in the shade.”

“Taking me on a tropical holiday, are you?”

Max shrugged and put his empty mug on the coffee table. “Why not? You deserve a tropical holiday.”

“I do. And I’ve got some vacation time saved up,” you mused at the thought of. “So, to continue the interview: Can you cross running water?”

“Of course I can.”

“Don’t you need soil or something?”

He paused the knotting of his tie, “How do you know so much about vampire lore?”

“It’s called reading.”

He made a noise that he was impressed. “No, we don’t need our native soil to slumber in. We just need to sleep close to earth during sunlight hours to replenish ourselves. Besides, transportation of soil involves a lot of paperwork.”

You bemoaned his hatred of paperwork and continued, “What about the counting thing?”

“What counting thing?” He started putting on his shoes.

“The one where to stop a vampire, you spread out a bunch of rice or something and the vampire is compelled to count every grain until the sun rises.”

“I have never heard of that one.”

“That’s why The Count on Sesame Street counts everything.”

He popped his head up in surprise, “Are you comparing me to a Muppet?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.” He got up and started putting on his vest and suit jacket.

“So what about the silver thing?”

“The silver thing?”

“The silver thing in that it repels vampires.”

“Oh, that was just a rumour created by a vampire.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, I think they had stock in silver or something and wanted to make it valuable, so the rumour was created.”

“That’s wild. It’s like those people who created the myth that diamonds are special.”

“They are a girl’s best friend.”

“No, Max, I think you’re my best friend.”

“Really? Me?” He shook his head. “I have to go into the office.”

“Aw,” you whined. “But I have more questions.”

“All in good time, my pretty.”

As he was leaving, he kissed the top of your head. It was such a quick, casual gesture neither of you noticed it until it had passed. There was a delay in the realisation for both of you. Max momentarily forgot where he left his keys, even though they were in its usual place. And then he forgot where he left the front door, but he made it out eventually. You didn’t notice as you just sat on the couch feeling confused but also content.

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Lovingly tagging @chaithetics @cevans-is-classic @galaxyedging @letsgobarbs @peepawispunk @missladym1981 @kirsteng42 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @ericamarie093 @yorksgirl @popcornforone @allthe-ships @clowncummiess @ellenmunn

[resplendentoutfit]

Festooned in Flowers: A Victorian Fashion Trend of the 1870s and 1880s

Artificial flowers are much used both for hair ornaments and as trimming on the gown – the largest size roses possible made of silk or velvet in black, white, or different colors with the dewdrop effect of rhinestones or diamonds. – Vogue, 1901

Some dresses, such as the gown below, were trimmed with elaborate garlands of flowers.

Right: Gustave Boulanger (French, Portrait de Madame Lambinet, née Nathalie Sinclair • 1887 • Musée Lambinet, Versailles

Left: Rogelio de Egusquiza y Barrena (Spanish, 1845-1915) • The End of the Ball • 1879

Flower garlands appeared draped over the entire gown, or just the skirt of a gown. Flower clusters were also popular on the shoulder, the middle of the neckline, and on a strategic placement where the fabric was gathered. Sometimes it seems they were used everywhere at once.

The Art of Dressing Well. A Complete Guide to Economy, Style and Propriety, published in 1870 advises: 

“Yet, even in the full dress requisite for evening parties, the rule should be to dress well, becomingly, and appropriately, but not obtrusive, and above all, not gaudily, or too much. It is a crime against good taste to be too much in excess of the company, yet care must be bestowed upon the costume, the hostess expects it, and the guests observe its neglect. It is the test of good taste to be in the foremost rank of guests for appropriate dress, but never in advance of others." 

Hmmm...it seems to me through today's lens that the antique gown in the photo above is "too much".

Short, or what we now call cap sleeves, were essential for formal evening wear in any season, as were sleeveless dresses. Off-the-shoulder and low-necklines were also very popular.

Glittering jewelry was often worn – necklaces in double-strands, dangle earrings, bracelets, and pearls. Some fashion plates and gowns in museums show women wearing a thin velvet ribbon around the neck.

Long gloves were a must. Hats were not considered appropriate in formal wear but fancy comb and pins were. As stated above, fabric flowers were also often used to decorate hairstyles that were mostly up-dos. Feathers were sometimes also tucked into the hair. Some hairstyles were very elaborate. And then there is the ubiquitous fan; either held closed or open to show off a special design.

[stardust-for-your-soul]

how beautiful did he look, as he sat amidst the lilies, maidens bedecked in gold bathing him in milk and rose petals as he accepted them graciously. lashes fluttered shut with golden orbs hiding behind serenity bathed eyes, calm despite the repetitive chant of his noble name.

'long live deus auri!'

priests chanted the holy name of the mighty god whose blessing seemed to have livened the nation with plenty joy, smiles rising on the face of every citizen. the city was bathed in lights and lamps bright as every gust of wind sang melody of the ardour.

music and incense had filled every nook and cranny, and travellers had gathered from the corners of the world to behold witness to the occasion; and to have their own hands filled with the generous king's gold—who was as gleeful as a father could be at the occasion of his eldest son's coronation.

he stands once the ceremony is completed, long brown hair open as they fall over his defined shoulders. to call him beautiful would've been both accurate and laughable, for he was more aptly compared with the sun than any petty word that could be used for anything else. the priests gather around him as he bows, a graciously swift movement as they slip the silks on his chest and the gold jewellery fitting of a crowned prince—enhancing his beauty a million times.

and had you blinked for even a moment, you would have missed the way his gaze fluttered ever so softly in your direction, atop the balcony which provided a view to the multitude of princesses who had been invited to the ceremony, as the garland of lotuses was slipped on him—the most silent gesture that very loudly said one thing—he would look forward to the day he can do that to you, and claim you his.

he turns back though, as quickly as he had looked, and then greets all with the most pleasant of smiles. all cheered loudly, but none's heart would've known the turmoil of anticipation that yours did. you understood very well the undertones of this coronation—it was his request from the king, who had been more than happy to oblige, so that he would have the right to ask your hand from your father who would only be willing to hand over his daughter to the noblest of men.

you have to prevent even a slip in gesture or airs to make for the sudden attention that you garner then, and your father smiles in the distance, old eyes gleaming with great understanding of his loveliest daughter's visage.

its a lovely affair then—the crowned prince and you sitting together near the lake of lotuses as he smiles at you with the smallest of desire in his gaze, as though trying not to let his composure slip—

'tell me, lotus-eyed, would your father allow me to take your hand in mine now?'

but your father knows the answer as he listens vaguely from near the rose bushes, even more than both of you who remain oblivious to his watchful gaze as he secretively smiles.

all that awaited now was the marriage ceremony and the rituals that follow with it—the best man wins the hand of his divine daughter. he knows he won't have to be partial, though. quite vain then would be his long wait of four years; looking for the valiant man who could dare to woo his daughter, the lady known for her very beauty and immaculate character in the land of wealth and trade.

he takes no worries when he smiles gleefully though, allowing the love birds to engage in peaceful conversation, fully trusting that his daughter would never do anything to make him bow his head low in shame. his eyes gleam in joy as he internally rejoices.

deus auri is the most competent of all in the seven continents, after all.

header credits: @cafekitsune !

[eikaebana]

Shop from our selection of Vine Silk Rose Garlands which are perfect for creating stunning wedding arches or floral arrangements for your wedding decoration. Best Price Guaranteed!

Visit Us: https://shop.eikaebana.com

[earl-grey-teacake]

I'm a dif anon but I am also so so super invested in your Victorian au! So I want to ask about the color/materials/scents associated w each family!

If any of the details are spoilery, totally leave it out :)

Ahhh! Thank you for asking!

I have broken it down by family and the current people of each house.

Please enjoy my ramblings about fabrics and perfumes!

Color: colors of the houses, usually seen on their emblem. These colors follow each character to signal from what family they are from.

Fabric/trim: When I am describing their clothing, it will likely be in the following fabrics unless stated otherwise. Also, provides insight into the social status

Jewelry: Extension of the house colors but also symbolizes power. All the alphas wear lapel pins in the house's stone and metal setting. The omegas have some sort of jewelry in the stone and metal.

Scent: Alphas tend to have stronger, sharper scents while betas have neutral scents (think clean linen; sweet and powdery. Byredo Blanche) and omegas have floral, sweet scents.

Duchy of Mercedes/Earldom of Williams-House of Hamilton

Colors: Blue, Silver, Black

Fabric/trim: Silk, primarily silk taffeta; white lace; garlands of leaves and flower buds; ribbons

Jewelry: Sapphires set in silver

Secondary gender and scent

Lewis Hamilton (Alpha): smells of amber, vanilla, cinnamon and wood. It's warm and strong, the kind of scent you remember for a while and exudes power. Inspired from Grand Soir by Maison Francis Kurkdijan.

Nico Hamilton (Omega): citrus, musky, with a softness from the floral. It smells bright, refreshing, but there is a warmth to it from the musk. Inspired by Petit Matin by Maison Francis Kurkdijan. (The perfume Grand Soir and Petit Matin were released together. Grand Soir to represent the nightlife and Petit Matin representing the gentle morning.)

George Hamilton (Alpha): smells cold and refreshing. Citrus, sea salt and sandalwood. It is reminiscent of a cool mountain stream. Inspired by Silver Mountain Water by Creed and Aqua Universalis by Maison Francis Kurkdijan.

Alex Hamilton (Omega): Floral scent of magnolia, rose, and jasmine with a slight sweetness of apple and peaches tempered by the slight scent of cedarwood. It's youthful without being childish, delicate, sweet, and fresh all at the same time. Inspired by my favorite perfume Love in White for Summer by Creed.

Lia Hamilton (Alpha): Citrus, sea salt, sandalwood, lightened with fruity blackcurrant. It has the citrus-sea salt freshness from her father and the woody warmth from her grandfather but made unique by the sweetness of the blackcurrant. Inspired by Millesime Imperial by Creed.

Logan Hamilton (Omega): Fruity and floral- greengage plum, apple, rose, bergamot, Virginia cedarwood and sandalwood. It is fresh and floral and just exudes romantic, youthful love. Inspired by Acqua Fiorentina by Creed.

Earldom of Mclaren-House of Piastri

Colors: Black, papaya

Fabric/trim: twilled wool, serge, and brocade with leaves and wine

Jewelry: Topaz set in gold

Secondary gender and scent

Oscar Piastri (Alpha): Citrus, icy cold, fresh and herbal. It is a combination of icy, winter air; the sharpness of lemon, and the earthy scent of tea. It is harsh and sharp in the way it is both warm and cold. Inspired by Aqua media by Maison Francis Kurkdijan and Ofresia by Diptyque.

Duchy of Sainz- House of Norris-Sainz

Colors: crimson, maroon, black

Fabric: silk, satin, velvet, crystal beads, tassels

Jewelry: Ruby set in gold

Secondary Gender and scent

Lando Norris-Sainz (Alpha): musky amber with notes of vanilla, coriander and nutmeg. It is warm, spicy, floral and sweet but not overpowering. It settles like a sleeping dragon or the calm before the storm, there is a sharpness beneath calm, sweetness of the vanilla and nutmeg. Gentle Fluidity Gold by Maison Francis Kurkdijan.

Carlos Norris-Sainz (Omega): a deviation from the gentle scents of most omegas. It is strong, woody, spicy and sweet all at the some time. It smells like a fiery demise that you willingly accept because it is that captivating. Inspired by Baccarat Rouge 540 by Maison Francis Kurkdijan.

Feel free to send in asks or comment if you have any questions. If you want you share your perfume or your thoughts on the perfumes I have chosen feel free to.

[violettduchess]

A/N: Silvio won the first poll for my and @aquagirl1978's Summer Days Sultry Nights CCC 💜

The winning prompt was "Garden Party"

Fluff

WC: ~1k

Everything must be in its place. It absolutely must be perfect and it is up to you to do your duty as host, making a final pass through the small, side garden of the palace you have chosen for your party,  ensuring everything is up to your very exacting standards. The bushes have been decorated with paper flower garlands that you painstakingly spent hours folding last night and earlier this morning. Tiny little bursts of blue and white color that liven up the deep green foliage, bringing a welcome burst of his favorite colors to the setting. Perfect, you think as you nod to yourself and then head toward the table.

Your heart swells with pride and a sense of self-satisfaction. You chose everything yourself: from the sky-blue tablecloth shot through with silver thread that sparkles in the sunlight, to the white dishes with their delicate pink seashell decorations around the rim. You even chose real seashells from your beloved collection and scattered them artfully across the table. A stroke of genius, if you do say so yourself.

Now one more slow, discerning walk around to double check the place cards is necessary. The guests you invited are a lively bunch. They would have to be in order to keep Silvio Ricci entertained. However they don’t always get along with one another. Lady Crabb must be seated quite far away from Signore Orso and neither of them can stand the chatty ballerina, Mademoiselle Cheveux Roses. Really, it was quite the headache finding them all suitable seating.

But you managed and best of all, you took the time to decorate his chair at the end of the table. Blue and silver ribbons are tied around the legs and along the top rail, making sure everyone knows that this is the seat for the Prince of Benitoite, your guest of honor who has been away for days on royal business.

A voice calls your name and you turn to see Carlo approaching, nodding his dark head of curls in greeting. 

“You wished to be informed when the cakes were done.”

The cakes!

“Thank you Carlo!” 

And you are gone, dashing up the garden path and bursting into the kitchen where the cook and several other kitchen staff are carefully lining up the bite-sized raspberry-lemon cakes you had helped bake earlier onto a silver tray. Your smile is brighter than the delicate lemon curl decorations on each one. The cook is nestling a ripe raspberry amid each yellow ribbon and sneaks you one before stepping back, smiling warmly.

“Are they to your liking, Signorina?”

You nod excitedly. “They’re perfect!” Carlo reaches over and lifts the heavy tray, carrying it back out to the garden while you follow slowly, each step very careful as you are carrying two small pitchers, one with coffee and one with tea. Knowing him, he’ll probably prefer coffee but you want to have both ready, just in case.

A small trilling sound comes from Carlo’s gray vest and he reaches inside, pulling out his silver pocket watch.

“Four o’clock.” 

You beam at him, excitement coursing through you like bubbles in a glass. Quickly you smooth down your dress, making sure there are no wrinkles in the soft, ocean-blue silk. Four o’clock. He said he would be back then, done with his travels and able to return home. Now you hear the faint chiming of the church bells, marking the hour with four resounding chimes in a row that reach you over the palace walls.

The sound fades into silence and you frown slightly as you glance at Carlo who offers you a reassuring smile. 

He said he would be here……

And then you hear the creak of the garden gate and like a dream, Silvio is there, striding across the path as quickly as his long legs will take him. You light up like a firecracker set to burst as soon as you spot him. A cannonball unleashed, you take off towards him.

“Papa!!”

Silvio kneels down, opening his arms to catch you, nearly falling backwards at the force of your hug. He scoops you up into his arms, lifting you high off the ground and hugs you back just as tightly.

“Piccola,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He smells like the sea, fresh and salty and you hug him once more, just because you can, before wiggling for him to put you down.

You slide your hand into his, your fingers curling tightly as you pull him towards the table. “Come, Papa. I’ve arranged a whole party to welcome you back from your business. Mama will be here too as soon as she is done feeding the baby.”

Carlo follows you both, a puzzled expression on his face. He speaks quietly, only for Silvio's ears. “The meeting ended early enough for you to be here on time?” The merchants Silvio had gone to speak with on a tiny, nearby island were notorious for being long-winded. The prince lowers himself onto his beautifully decorated seat, shrugging one shoulder.

“I told them I had an appointment with an extremely important royal that I had to keep.” He turns his gaze to you and you’re beaming. 

"Guarda qui papà, I've placed you close to me and Signore Orso. Do you see the gold bracelet around his paw? It looks like yours! Mama gave me one of her older necklace chains and I wound it around until it fit!”

Carlo slowly steps away from the garden party planned by the young princess for her father, watching with a soft smile as Silvio listens to her chattering on, nodding intently at everything she tells him. To think this is the same man who would snarl and bark his way through this very palace like an animal, hiding any tender part of himself behind sharp words and gnashing teeth.

And then he fell in love with an extraordinary woman who took his heart into her capable hands, cradling it and protecting it.

And then you, little princess, were born and he fell even further into a love as wide and deep and endless as the ocean. 

Which leads to this moment, right now, as Silvio Ricci, practically glowing under the light of the summer sun, strokes his daughter’s pale hair with a tender hand and smiles, openly, warmly, murmuring his gratitude as she pours him a cup of lukewarm coffee. 

Tagging: @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly

[umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken]

Day 5: Shapeshifter & Masquerade

A marriage of Spring and Autumn

(super original title, I know 😎)

@tamlinweek

Her mother told her that a masquerade ball was to be held, in honour of the marriage between Spring and Autumn. Tamlin could have laughed at the irony. So it was to be a night of secrets and lies. How fitting.

She had never thought of her shapeshifting powers as a curse, as something she would ever come to hate. But now she was trapped in her own skin, forced to remain Still when it was in her veins, her very nature to move and shift and change.

And now the day had arrived at last, where she would meet her husband to be for the very first time.

She had been shaken awake by Lady Titania at the crack of dawn to begin preparations. Still too fuzzy from sleep to argue, Tamlin had allowed herself to be moved about like a doll for her maids to paint her face and style her hair just so. Her mother’s constant needling in the background had done nothing to help her already sour mood.

Then came her gown. Length upon length of pale green spider-silk, gathered at her waist in rippling folds with hundreds of delicate, pink roses stitched all across the gown. The bodice itself was sleeveless, held up at her shoulders with delicate, twisting thorns. A chest of jewelled flowers in every hue rested on the table; heirlooms from her grandmother who had lovingly planted and nurtured the delicate blooms herself. One by one, her mother pinned them into her hair until she wore a glittering crown, perfectly befitting a demure lady of Spring.

Lady Titania squeezed her shoulders, smiling happily, “There. You look beautiful, Tamlin. If only you could wear a smile along with your gown.”

She looked up from her clasped hands, meeting her mother’s gaze in the mirror before pasting on her most saccharine smile.

Her mother tsked at her, “Your father has gone to great lengths to arrange this marriage, it would do you some good to be happy about it. The Lordling Eris is of an age to you, I’d thought you’d be happy about that.”

Her mother’s dismissive tone stoked the fire burning low in her belly, and she whirled in her seat. “It’s not his age that I’m concerned about, mother! It is this!” her hands clenched into fists, “You want to sell me into a lie! Do you even care about what I want?! What I feel?! How could you let father do this to me?! How could you let this ha-”

Faster than she could blink, her mother slapped her soundly across the cheek, then took hold of her arm and squeezed hard, pulling her upwards til they were face to face.

“Selfish, ungrateful child! You stop this right now! This marriage will do great things for our Court, for our family. The Autumn Court is traditional, still stuck in the old ways.  I will not have you jeopardise this, do you understand?” her mother shook her arm, “Do you understand?!”

All Tamlin could do was nod, her blood pounding between her ears, cheeks hot, eyes prickling.

Her mother sighed, her voice softening. “Perhaps in time, when the Lord Eris has grown to favour you more, when you have attended to him as a good, faithful wife should, you may be able to shift more freely. But for now, you must remain as you are, yes, petal?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Good. Now the mask.”

It was a thing of beauty. Gold filigree in twisting patterns of thorns, dotted with delicate roses pieced together with tiny ruby fragments. It fitted perfectly to her face.

In the mirror her mother smiled.

“Perfect.”

<><><><> 

She forced her hands to lay flat on her lap as she watched the partygoers wander around the ballroom. From atop her seat on the curtained dais, Tamlin could see everything.

Her parents had truly outdone themselves. The ballroom was glowing with fae-light, garlands of flowers strewn from wall to wall. The room glittered with magic, and the air was sweet and heady with the smell of perfumed wine. She couldn’t remember a time where the room had been as full of life, so loud and magnetic. She must have sat there for hours, watching as the guests trickled in.

Finally, with a great fanfare, the Autumn delegation arrived. The High Lord Beron, his wife the Lady Freya, and their eldest son, her future husband. Lord Eris.

Where Spring Court males tended to be more powerfully built, with strong legs and thicker chests, the males of the Autumn Court were slender and lean. It was almost comical how small Lord Beron looked standing next to her father, High Lord Oberon; particularly when his cruelty was so well known. Each of the Autumn Court family were dressed in deep red velvet, three dark figures in a room full of light. Tamlin's nails bit painfully into the palms of her hands.

Her parents greeted the Autumn Court with bows and curtsies, welcoming them to Rosehall. Then they were turning towards her, their tilted faces obscured by bronze masks.

It was time.

She rose from her seat and parted the thin, gauzy curtain, descending the dais to greet her future husband. She kept her gaze locked on the floor the entire time. Her one last act of defiance before her parents. Eris bowed as she reached him.

“Lady Tamlin.”

“Lord Eris.”

She raised her head from her curtsy and was momentarily stunned.

Vivid eyes of pure sunlight gazed at her through a mask of bronze oak leaves. His hair, red as a flame hung in soft waves to just below his chin, accentuating the sharp features that were so prominent within the Autumn family. His lips curled into a smile as he offered her his hand.

“Shall we?”

Letting her skirt fall to the ground, she laid her hand in his and he kissed her knuckles, his soft lips lingering on her skin. They made their way onto the dance floor and took their positions. Eris dropped his other hand to her waist, squeezing lightly. Grudgingly, she placed her hand on his shoulder and flexed her fingers. Cauldron boil, but his shoulders were broad. She could feel him staring at her in her periphery, and she forced her fingers to still against the luxurious fabric.

The orchestra began and then they were moving, spinning across the floor. One full circle, then a second. The party goers became a colourful smear against the golden walls of the ballroom.

Eris lowered his head to her ear.

“You look lovely tonight.”

She ignored him.

“Does the lady not approve of my choice in words? Shall I say… Resplendent? Decadent? Glorious?”

Tamlin sent him a look, “There’s no need for flattery, my lord. We are to be married within the week.”

“I don’t waste time with flattery.”

“Then you are jesting me, and I despise that all the more.” She snapped.

“I speak the truth.”

She scoffed. Irritating bastard.

He grasped her hand firmly as he spun her in a perfect arc, then pulled her back to his side.

Her skin tingled where his arm encircled her, and she imagined that his fingers were scorching holes through the silk of her dress, branding her with his fire. He met her hard stare with a look of quiet consideration.

They had come to a stop on the floor and all of a sudden she could feel each coil of muscle in her body, stretched taut like the strings of her fiddle. Begging for release.

He waited there, his arms wrapped around her. Behind them, the orchestra played on.

“What in the Seven Courts are you-”

“I mean it, Lady Tamlin,” his voice was warm in her ear, “I am many things, but I will never tell you a lie.”

She didn’t speak for a moment, focused on the feeling of his warm hand on her tingling fingers, then she finally tilted her head up to look him in the eyes.

“You really don’t give up, do you?”

He smiled, teeth gleaming. “I never learned how.”

 He squeezed her hand, then they were once more moving across the floor. She kept her gaze locked on the gilded walls of the room, chasing down her skittering heart. Tamlin was determined not to meet Eris’s gaze for longer than was necessary. Besides, the weight of the flowers in her hair took a constant toll on her concentration as she strained to keep the damned things from flying off of her head at every spin.

“Copper for your thoughts?”

“What?”

“You were scowling most splendidly. I hope your anger isn’t aimed at me.”

“No,” she replied briskly, “What would I have to be angry about after all? It couldn’t be at the fact that I’ve heard the tales of your father’s cruelty, of your Court’s cruelty, and now you, his oldest son, wants my hand in marriage. Tell me, are you to be as cruel as your father is, or will you be a different beast completely? I am to be taken away from my home, away from everything I have ever known and forced to play your pretty little wife for the remainder of my days.” Her last words came out in a vicious hiss.

They whirled around to face each other. Her fingers held onto his arm with a deathly grip as he dipped her low. She glared up at Eris. He was not smiling now.

“Is that enough reason for you, my Lord?”

“I see.”

He fell silent then, and they continued their dance.

Turn and turn around the floor, and neither of them spoke a word.

Her blood pounded in her ears, and she felt as if the breath had been stolen from her lungs. It had felt wonderful to speak so freely. But in the time it took to make one more rotation around the floor, a chill began to seize her spine. Tamlin could almost hear her mother’s voice in her ear.

Stupid girl, allowing your temper to rule your tongue! If you feared his anger before, you have only stoked the flames higher with your thoughtless words!

Round and round her thoughts went, until she was almost completely ready to spout whatever apologies were necessary to avoid the possible torture in her future.

“Forgive me, Lady Tamlin. I had not realised how you might feel about this situation.”

“I’m… sorry?”

 “You have every reason to have fears and reservations about this marriage. I am sure that if I were in your position, I would have some as well.”

Eris squeezed her hand, his voice lowering, “I can only offer you a promise.”

“A promise? What kind?”

“I promise you that we will enter this marriage as equals. You are to be mine, and I will be entirely yours. You will have nothing to fear from me, I swear, Tamlin. If you wish to return home to Spring someday, it will be granted.”

For a long while, she could only stare at him. He was not at all what she had been expecting. She had entered this ballroom hoping that her husband wouldn’t be a cruel brute with a penchant for torture and had come out more than surprised. Coming back to herself, she realised that she had been silent for quite some time, and Eris had dropped his gaze to the ballroom floor.

“You’re not who I thought you’d be,” she said at last.

He tilted his head. “And what were you expecting?”

“I was expecting a beast.”

His eyes twinkled and she couldn’t help but smile as well.

“Oh?”

“Yes. A great hairy beast, with a dripping mouth full of blood and ugly, vicious teeth.”

He tossed his head back in a chuckle, exposing the long, pale column of his throat. “I’m sorry to have disappointed you so.”

Her heart pounded wildly, “You are forgiven.”

The orchestra began the final strains of the dance.

“You’re not at all what I expected either, Tamlin.”

“Dare I find out?”

“I must admit, when my parents informed me of this proposal, I hadn’t expected much. ‘A daughter of Spring’, I thought. ‘How dull’. But you,”

She moved her hands to his shoulders as he moved to take her waist, and in a single motion he was lifting her high in a half circle.

Magic pulsed through his fingertips into her skin with each burning touch. His eyes were pure light, focussed solely on her. Tamlin's fingers tightened on his shoulders as he finally set her back down, his hands hesitant to leave her waist.

“You’re bright and wild, and angry and witty. You… You have bewitched me entirely.”

Her breaths quickened, “Eris.”

Behind them, the orchestra played the final note with a flourish.

His face broke out into a devilish smile as he leaned down to kiss her hand.

“Until the wedding, Tamlin.”

Then he was gone, fading away into the bustling crowd now stepping onto the dancefloor.

Her heat beat a furious rhythm in her chest, mind devoid of all thought save for the feeling of his lips on her skin.

[chic-a-gigot]

L'Art et la mode, no. 47, vol. 34, 22 novembre 1913, Paris. Mlle Pascal, dans. Raffles, à l'Ambigu. Mlle Gaby, au Théâtre-Impérial. Bibliothèque nationale de France

Mlle Pascal, dans Raffles, à l'Ambigu.

Robe en charmeuse rose pâle; tunique de tulle blanc avec guirlande de petites roses de soie. Corsage de charmeuse "vieux bleu", voilé de volants de tulle blanc. Nœud et pan "bleu Saxe" dans le dos. Bretelle de charmeuse rose ornée d’un petit galon d’or.

Pale pink charmeuse dress; white tulle tunic with garland of small silk roses. "Old blue" charmeuse bodice, veiled with white tulle ruffles. "Saxony blue" bow and panel on the back. Pink charmeuse strap decorated with a small gold braid.

—

Mlle Gaby, au Théâtre-Impérial.

Robe en charmeuse noire. Corsage et tuniques en tulle blanc brodé de skungs et galon d’argent. Pavots jaunes et rouges. Sous-jupe plissée en voile noir.

Black charmeuse dress. Bodice and tunics in white tulle embroidered with skungs and silver braid. Yellow and red poppies. Pleated underskirt in black voile.

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 69 - evening dresses in 1924

Rose’s evening dresses really settle into the pastels this season, so much that I’m thrown for a loop on the two or three occasions when she goes for jewel tones instead. Twelve dresses, that’s fewer than Mary has but curiously more than Edith. Let’s see.

While the pastels fill most of the time, Rose begins and ends the season in blue. This first one is rather an example for the fancy sack look, but I like how the little sleeves are draped around her arms. It’s got a lot of beading all over it, wavy lines and curlicues shaping up to bigger ornamented areas on the sides.

Someone must’ve taken a look at this at some point and gone: “Rose in orange? This is wrong; she needs to wear soft pinks!” because we’ll get an accumulation of soft pinks soon after this. This one is mainly chiffon filled with tons and tons of tiny golden curlicues, framed in wide velvet trim on the skirt and the neckline. I quite like this despite the evident baggy top effect; both the neckline leaning a little toward a cowl and the split skirt have something structural going on, and there are those flowers added to her shoulder.

The lighting here makes me unsure of the color, but I hope it’s soft pink, because if not, it’s beige. And if this dress is beige, it really has nothing going for it. There’s a bit of embroidery, flower brambles I think, short sleeves with no interesting shape, and that’s it.

A bronze dress with tiny golden leaves all over, this is one of the few occasions where I kind of wish they had skipped the additional embroidery on the waist as it doesn’t really fit in there color-wise. Can’t tell you anything about the skirt because dinner table shots, but Rose likes this enough to wear it again as a married woman – which means it’s tiara time! And honestly, that tiara is adorable.

More lousy lighting, but try to believe me that the dress is green. In fact, it may be a green velvet, dappled in silver to match the silk satin under layer. The front has this weird almond-shaped stomach panel going on; I personally feel the back with that plunging V of silver folds looks more elegant, which isn’t a new concept regarding 1920s. They liked them their back designs.

Off to pinks. This one is a tad more on the salmon side, and it’s got these thin vertical beading lines all over, emphasizing the desired streamlined silhouette but curiously going into a bit of a curve on the sides of her waist, and then the drop waist line just gets a massive up in either silver or pale golden embroidery.

Took me a while to tell this one from the previous; with the same neckline and shoulder straps, an only slightly pinker shade of pink (which can easily be put down to lighting) and the same vertical beading lines, it doesn’t look a whole lot different until you look at the skirt. They always confuse me when they have two extremely similar items in their wardrobe; who does that? But to the skirt business: The beading here spreads out into a sort of fractal flower motif, and then she has these little ruffles sitting on her hips. It’s also tiara time again, and they really need to lay off the rose motif already. Her name is Rose and she likes pink; we get it.

Okay, no, they don’t need to lay off the rose motif here. This dress is stunning. This combination of pale gold sequins and auburn chiffon ruffle hem? Beautiful. Plus the chevron configuration is giving it some illusion of shaping that the 1920s cut doesn’t actually have. And then they do the usual thing, marking the drop waist not in terms of structure but only in decoration – and honestly this garland of flowers ends up looking so elegant. I love it, no notes.

Another peachy pink silk satin. I have conflicted feelings about this dress, in particular about its most striking element, the scalloped strap going over her throat from one shoulder to the other. On one hand, I’m cringing at imagining the sensation of wearing this; on the other, I think it looks really good. Rose also coordinated the scallop shape well with her jewelry; look at her bracelet. The sequin-and-pearls sun motif on the skirt is okay, a little clunky perhaps.

This dress is more on the pale golden side of peach, and it’s working with this turtle shell scales pattern, all of it in glittery beading. And yet more glitter as this silver zigzag band crosses in an X over the front and frames the skirt – I know the second shot is grainy and poorly-lit, but the movement in these skirt panels is beautiful. They also put a color-matching chiffon rose in her hair because Subtle Symbolism™, and while I’m tired of the latter, the look is very nice.

You know things are bad when an off-white outfit is a relief. Finally a different color scheme! Silver in this case, but Rose sticks with her glitter which seems to be a ton of rhinestones running in a sort of feather design to both sides of her top. I wish these cowards had gone full in and given her a real skullcap with dangly bits and all. Rebel Rose would totally have worn something extravagant like that. Ah well, the bejeweled hairnet is still something, and the earrings are cute. Fun fact: This silver dress is one of at least two clothing articles on Downton Abbey that previously made an appearance in the 2008 movie Easy Virtue, where Sarah Hurst wears it and it’s scandalously and period-untypically short. So perhaps the added chiffon layers underneath the skirt are there to cover Rose’s knees.

Rose ends the season like she started it, in blue, and I’m only now realizing that this is the culmination of her initial blue-red character color scheme. She hasn’t worn one single red dress over the entire season. Because in Julian Fellowes country, good character development is only when you get all of your adversity out of you and become a sweet, perfect little lady… Here’s hoping Rose will cause her father-in-law an aneurysm. Anyway, beaded golden lace layered over blue, the usual cut, simple jewelry. Why are these people not wearing sleeves on Christmas?